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iphoenixrising · 4 years

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Check, Please WIP: Part 1-4

AHL!Bitty

I’m going to hell, but… Parse, Bitty, and Jack or PB&J as I’ve seen it, have some wonderful stories in the fandom, and tbh I’ve come to look at Kent Parsons very differently thanks to a few. You can probably check them out on my Ao3 bookmarks and such.

Notes:

I know shit all about hockey but damn if I don’t love Check, Please! Not everything is accurate and some details are mine. Like, I’m just going to pretend the Bruins aren’t in Providence, and the Pawtucket Rebels are the AHL team.

But then, what if Jack and Bits didn’t get that kiss at the end of Jack’s graduation? What if they just stayed the best of friends, pining away at one another until Kent Parson comes back into Jack’s life. Now it’s not just Jack pining, it’s Kent too :D

And, well, after winning the Championship his senior year, bringing that back to Samwell, Eric Bittle might just think he hasn’t had enough Hockey after all.

Really, it’s time to put up or shut up.

** Pro

Of all the things on Kent Parson’s Wish List (winning the Stanley Cup, being on a team he loves, playing hockey for the rest of his life, having a pet and Kit meets all those criteria for so much cute and cuddly), getting his friendship back on track with Jack Zimmermann hadn’t moved down from number 1, ever.

Things changed after that disaster at his college frat house, then later in Zimm’s first season with the Falconers, Kent wasn’t sure it could even be a wish.

When it came to hockey, things were always too easy. They never had to talk about it, about what they were doing on the ice. All of that just came like breathing. Parse and Zimms, Zimms and Parse. The whole Zimmermann-Parson No-Look One-Timer was never something they discussed, it was something that just happened.

On the ice, they were unbeatable, just like in Juniors.

Off the ice...was a different story.

(Sometimes he dreams about it, finding Jack passed out on the bathroom floor of the hotel, foaming at the mouth, panic and adrenaline hitting Kent hard when he’s pretty sure his best friend, the man he almost-kind of-sometimes loves, is going to die on this floor.)

Jack’s problem with pills started early, around the time he and Kent got serious enough to play for scouts that started coming around with the promise of watching the son of Bad Bob.

(He was always partially to blame for Jack’s downfall. Kent had been the closest to Jack back then, had seen the signs, had tried to pull him back whenever he could, had been the one to ease Zimms down before every game, to be the one sitting in a corner with the bigger Canadian, running his hands over Jack’s shoulders and holding his hands, checking his breathing, helping him work through the anxiety.)

But, but!

That’s all old history, something Jack probably never wants to revisit ever again (because he cut you out of his life so well–), even when he makes it to the Falconers.

(After that disaster at his school, well, no wonder.)

And Kent just has to deal with that, has to accept it finally, and just move on.

(He could have been an Ace, just that fast, playing with Kent’s team of awesome guys. And fuck did it hurt when Jack turned him down flat...)

Until this little shit came along.

** 1

Eric Bittle realizes he’s severely messed up when he doesn’t kiss Jack Zimmermann at graduation.

For two years, they’ve played hard hockey for Samwell, have gotten close, becoming best friends. They’ve held checking clinics, hugged tightly in cellys, watched boring as hell history documentaries on that god-awful green couch, and pulled each other back from the brink of insanity during midterms and finals. They’ve spent time in the kitchen with Bitty cooking and Jack working at the table. They’ve spent time outside in the quad, bullshittin’ like the oldest friends, chirpin’ back n’ forth like they’re two peas in a pod.

Jack somehow started being his best friend without even trying.

The last game showed him how close they’d become when he’s going through the empty rink, making it to the loading dock, just a flash of jersey leading him to Jack hunched over, tears in his eyes.

The utter agony right there had gone through Bitty like lightning, driving him forward to hop up on the pallets Jack was sitting on, and wrap both arms around those wide shoulders, hold on to ‘im as tight as he can.

“It ain’t your fault, Jack. You did so good with us. I’m so proud of you, honey, you have no idea. You worked so hard, so hard, Jack.”

“Bits,” is soft and sad, Jack choking a little, but those big arms come around him, crush him against Jack’s chest and the pads he’s still wearing.

“I know, I know. Sometimes it just isn’t in the cards, no matter how hard we fight. You get that, don’t you? Sometimes it just is what it is.”

“I can’t–” accept that is what Jack wants to say.

“I know it’s hard, but sometimes all the trainin’ and plannin’ and best of intentions just aren’t enough to tip the scales in your favor.”

And Jack seems to get something there, tightens his arms a little more, and holds on.

It’s a little while later when Jack’s stopped shaking like a leaf, “I wanted to bring home a Championship. Wanted to make my mark on Samwell.”

“Of course you did–”

“Thought after all this time, everything I owe Samwell and the team, bringing me here, giving me this second chance–”

“Oh Jack,” at this juncture, Bittle’s head is under Jack’s chin.

“I finally felt like I’d stopped fucking up,” is rough and dark in the quiet of the rink. “I thought coming to Samwell was a...a punishment. I dealt with it because I thought my life was going to start after, when I finished up my degree and got back into the Draft. But that’s...that’s not how it happened. My life started the minute I met you and the team and I remembered why the hell I love hockey so damn much in the first place.”

And if maybe a few slow, shameful tears escaped Bitty, well, no one would ever know.

But they got even closer as Jack’s graduation loomed, and Eric Bittle stayed in his own personal hell of loving Jack so much it ached, but helpless to stay away to protect himself.

Instead, when Jack pauses at his door, Bits knows what he needs and finds space to lounge on Jack’s bed, scrolling through Twitter while Jack talks about the negotiations with NHL teams or works on his last assignments.

Watching Jack pack his things, preparing for the Falconer’s training camp, getting ready for the next stage of his life, all of it makes Bits so dang proud and so sad at the same time.

But, well, nothin’ lasts forever, now does it.

When Jack ran all the way back to the Haus just to see him, just to pull him in hard for a desperate last hold, it was all Bits could do to stop from sobbing his heart out.

“–and you’re coming to Providence this summer to stay with me for a while, and-and I’ll be down when I can. You’re going to Skype me all the time. Bits, promise me. All the time.”

“Okay, Jack. Okay.”

Something soft in French that he has no idea what it could possibly mean, but he absolutely imagines Jack pressing a kiss in his hair.

“I’m sorry, Bits, but I have to go. I...I’ll text you, okay?”

“Okay,” is more watery than he’d like, but he can look up in Jack’s blue, blue eyes and at least feel warm that he’s had this man for as long as he has. When Jack’s hands slide out of his, he somehow doesn’t feel like he’s losing anything at all.

** 2

And just like that, Jack takes a step in his life he never could have predicted. Like an hour away instead of across the hall is enough to keep holding on, enough that Jack comes to Madison over the summer, enough that he asks Bitty to show him how to use FaceTime and SnapChat.

It’s enough for Jack to pick him up off his feet every time they meet up and bury his face in Bitty’s hair. It’s enough for Jack to Skype almost nightly while he’s tuckered out in his bed, talking about the joys and pitfalls of being a professional athlete.

It’s enough that he gets to meet the Falconers long before preseason starts, and the amount of pies he brings is literally obscene.

(It all works out just fine in the end because he goes home with the empty pans. Not a single slice left.)

It’s enough when Jack talks more about life than hockey sometimes, and Bitty is utterly helpless to stop any of it. And it’s funny, he thinks, how he was sure Jack would just flitter out of his life after a while. That they would be reduced to a Skype call once a week maybe when they find the time, then once a month, then not at all, moving into texting once and a while until Jack would be nothing more than one of his best memories of Samwell.

It’s funny how he thought Jack moving into the NHL, moving to Providence, moving out of the Haus, moving on with his life, would mean also moving on from Eric Bittle.

And my, how wrong he was about all that.

Watching Jack play with the Falconers from the stands with the Stanley Cup on the line is not really where he’d thought he’d be once Jack had graduated.

But, if anything else, they’ve gotten even closer than before.

And when the buzzer finally sounds and the Falconers win it, he’s among the crowd running out on the ice for the biggest celly of the year.

Jack spots him immediately, grabs him up with a victorious roar, and skates around people holding Bitty like a favorite toy until Tater scoops him up from Jack yelling about “Nook pies!”

Marty skates by him, ruffling his hair with something twinkling in his eye. Thirdy hauls him up, too, though Bitty has no idea why all these hockey players are just throwing him around when they’ve just won the Stanley Cup, but he still thinks it’s awful nice of them to include him in their celebration.

He doesn’t go back to Georgia for the summer after all or the next one before he starts his senior year, but goes between staying in Jack’s guest room and the Haus instead. His Mama’s not happy about it at all, but he’s a grown man, so that’s all she can say about that.

So Bitty passes the summer of his Senior year training with Jack or at Faber when the ice is up for grabs, works on some chapters for his someday cookbook, and continues his vlog so everyone can see how superior filo is to choux in the right circumstances.

With the season over after winning the Cup, Jack is over at the Haus more than ever if Bitty’s not in Providence already staying in his guest room.

It should be strange to answer the door at the Haus on Saturday morning during the summer and see Jack there in his trainers, sweats, and t-shirt, wanting to hang out for the day after he’d put in a few hours at the Falc’s stadium already.

(“C’mon, Bits. Can’t slack during the summer. You’re the captain. Set an example.”

“Jack, it’s summer. Leave me alone until at least nine am for goodness sake!”

“Not going to happen, bud.”)

It should be strange riding the train or in the passenger seat of Jack’s SUV on their way to Providence while he fiddles with the music and Jack doesn’t complain about the selection.

It should be strange to wake up on Jack’s couch, laying on a broad shoulder with a heavy arm flopped around Bitty’s waist and logs being sawed in his ear.

It should be strange to know Jack’s kitchen better than the back of his hand, and to be giddy every time there’s a new utensil bought with him in mind.

(“Jack, why in the world would you need a dough scraper of all things?” “Not for me, Bits.”

“O-Oh!”

“Yeah. Thank Tater. He went with me this time. He held up that and said, ‘oh does B have one of these? It looks important.’ I didn’t know so I bought it in case.”)

It should be strange to see Jack’s Skype requests almost every night before bed, or have his former captain sprawled out in Bitty’s full sized bed once Lardo, Ransom, and Holster are already moved out and the new Waffles are well into the first semester of his senior year.

(“Good Lord, Jack, scoot over!”

“Mm.” Jack scootches maybe a foot more so Bitty can climb in beside him, already yawning. “Comfy, bud?”

“Gettin’ there,” and he absolutely ignores how much easier he falls asleep when Jack throws a heavy arm over him.)

It should be strange for Jack to whip him on up in a big hug when he admits the boys voted him as the Captain, and Jack breathes out, “damn right,” too close to his ear.

(“I don’t know if I can do this, Jack.”

“Too bad, Bits. Looks like you’re already doing it.”)

It should be strange for Jack to chirp him about his thesis, about his struggle with Whiskey, about why this darn strudel just won’t turn out right.

(“Jaques Laurant Zimmermann, do not make me ground you from pie.”

“Haha. I know you wouldn’t do that, bud.”

“Oh? Don’t be so sure, Mister.”)

It should be strange to get an earful when his new video comes out and Jack had no idea the jam war was that serious while Bitty has been supplying the Falconers for nearly a year.

(“Are you kidding? Aunt Judy is really that upset?”

“You have no idea, honey. It’s almost World War III down there.”

“Good thing you’re stuck at Samwell.”

“Good thing is right! I don’t want any part of that mess.”)

But somehow it never is. Strange, that is, to have Jack so much. Even though nothing could happen between them (“Never fall for a straight boy.”), Bitty still can’t let go of Jack, can’t deny him, can’t tell him no, can’t be the one that fails to respond when Jack reaches out for him.

Even when Kent Parson shows up at a Falcs game and cheers himself hoarse, screams for Jack right there on live TV.

And while trying to get through his dang senior year, trying to get his team to the Eastern Conference, he watches how Jack and Kent start to move back in one another’s orbit.

...which is probably why he doesn’t tell Jack anything about the scouts from the AHL coming to see him after the game with Princeton.

** 3

The Pawtucket Rebels manager, Michael McLean, is the one that meets Bitty with a Standard Player Contract the morning he gets back from Jack’s place when they’re going to be starting in the Frozen Four if they win the next two games.

The weekend away was nice, but he hadn’t been expecting Jack’s intention to introduce him to Kent Parson of the Las Vegas Aces.

“We’ve already met,” Bitty had filled in, still shaking Kent’s hand with a distant smile on his face, “at the Haus party when he swung on by.”

“Not my best moment,” the Captain admits sheepishly, eyes not meeting Bitty’s, and dang it if the boy ain’t at least a little bit cute.

“I suppose we all have our days,” Bits just drawls out and gives him a wink. He holds out the plate of fresh cookies as some kind of peace offering.

The weekend was still nice, being caught up in Kent’s manic energy and Jack’s easy acceptance. But, he starts seeing the signs pretty easily, when Jack’s hand goes to Kent’s shoulder after a good joke, the exchanged glances that linger, the slowly dwindling personal space that used to be there for them. How they start finishing each other’s sentences, and oh, doesn’t it just make his heart give a little beat when he sees them both happy.

(But doesn’t that just break it at the same dang time. Not only does Jack like men, but he’s already got his sights set on his old boyfriend. It’s almost enough to make a grown man cry. Bitty consoles himself after breaking down in his room on Sunday when Jack and Kent dropped him off at the Haus. Only Senor Bun knew how much he’d ugly cried himself out that night.)

When Mr. McLean gives him the contract to peruse and a business card with his information circled in blue pen, Bitty almost picks up his phone to call Jack, talk about what he would need other than a lawyer to go over this thing.

He thinks about Kent and calls Coach and Mama the next morning instead, promises to send scanned copies of the contract. Mama asks if this is something he really wants to think about doing after graduation.

“It’s money, Mama, a lot of money, and who knows? Hockey might not be outta my heart just yet. I’ll still have time for everything else.”

He only feels a little bit bad when Jack Skypes him on a roadie, set-up in a hotel, asks how his darn thesis is going, and promises to be at the next home game.

Kent joins the call while Bits is slid down all snug and sleepy-eyed, kids around with him by making kissy faces.

“College is brutal, Bits. You aren’t sleeping enough.”

“Well, now that’s life, ain’t it?”

Bitty knows something’s going on between them because Kent is shaking a finger at the screen and lecturing him about procrastination while Kit snoozes on. He’d only known if Jack told him about it.

“Bits, your thesis is basically about baking. Baking is the thing you love that isn’t hockey.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier,” Bitty slurs tiredly, wondering how he’s talking to the man that’s swiping his unrequited crush right out from under him even though he doesn’t even feel too bad about it. Not when he sees how good Kent is for Jack now, even if that hadn’t always been the case.

(Long as it makes Jack happy, I can endure it. It’s tough, but I’m tougher.)

But really. Kent Parson is so different from his image as the Captain of the Aces, Bitty can’t help but genuinely like the man.

“I’m so jealous. I love peppermint cookies and I’ve never gotten any sent to me!”

Sleepy time Bitty makes a note of that even when the world fuzzes out a little bit more.

“God, he’s so cute, Zimms.”

“Euh. He really is, Kenny. We should hang-up and let him sleep.”

Or he might of just dreamed that part.

The Aces have a hard game coming up, and he’s got his outline done, so the Haus is finally going to let him alone long enough to bake one single, solitary pie. In the middle of it, he certainly doesn’t expect Jack to show up with a six pack of Molson Blue, apparently assuming they’re going to watch it together and cheer on Kent.

“But I expect you to cheer for the Falcs when it comes down to us and the Aces, Bits.”

“Oh honey, I always root for the underdog anyhow.”

The chirp makes Jack flop back on his bed and laugh hard enough for tears to be in his eyes. Bitty just goes back to the Aces on his laptop and drinks Jack’s awful beer with a smirk.

He stirs a little from sleep to Jack talking softly beside him in bed since “It’s too late to drive back to Providence tonight. Move over, bud.”

He mutters something maybe, sighing instead when fingers comb through his hair.

“That W was perfection, Parse. You were skating your best life out there, eh?...sleeping right now. Yeah, senior year is a pain in the ass...you bet I miss you. Three weeks, we’ll be close enough to Vegas...yeah, I’ll try to get him to come along, but the Wellies are getting closer to the Championship...he would kill to bring it home for the boys.”

But he probably imagined all that, too.

Still, he’s got a short break before the next round of games, and just five days until his deadline to let Mr. McLean have his answer when Jack shows up at the Haus and is apparently confused why Bitty isn’t packed for Vegas.

“What do you mean we’re going to Las Vegas, Jack?!” Because this is the first he’s heard about it, and how does Jack already have a plane ticket for him?

“Come off it, bud. If I go there without you, Kenny will never forgive me.”

“How does he even know I don’t have a game?” He frets while putting sleep shorts in a suitcase, wonders if he should bring one of his suits since Jack is already wearing one.

Jack’s brows scrunch together, “Don’t you talk to him on that–that bird one? All the time? He says he always reads your updates.”

He pauses with a pair of boxer briefs and gives Jack his very best unimpressed expression, “Jack, sweet pea, please tell me you didn’t just refer to Twitter as that bird one?” He carefully does not say anything about Kent Parson checking his Twitter updates.

The soft smile and shrug in reply answers that now doesn’t it.

“I swear, what would you do without me,” he sighs, a little throb of love getting caught in his chest, and he just busies himself right on past it, going for at least one pair of flip flops probably buried under mounds of winter gear.

“Honestly? If I didn’t have you these last few years, maybe it would have been like what happened when I was in the Q,” Jack leans back on his elbows on Bitty’s bed, right beside the suitcase he’s quickly trying to pack. Being stuck between two button-ups, biting his bottom lip because he’s already bringing so much takes a backseat when Jack mentions the days he was in Juniors, and Bitty feels his eyebrows raise.

“When we started checking clinics, you and me, that was the most...balanced I ever started feeling after all that. The, ah, overdose. That...that might have been where I ended up if it hadn’t been for you and Samwell.”

With a breath (because Lord, here was Jack finally talking about it, in such a soft tone, his eyes so very blue, and just! Well, he’s not made of stone and this is Jack), he scoots the suitcase back and plops right down on the bed, reaching for Jack’s hand. He carefully looks at the closed door and rubs those big fingers with his thumb.

“You honestly think you would have made those same mistakes without me, Jack?” He tries to be nice about it, “because I sure as heck don’t.”

His fingers tighten around Bitty’s, a squeeze, a soft thank-you.

“I mean, I didn’t know you back then, so I can’t say who you were, but there are some parts of that Jack left in the one I know now. And the Jack I know now is someone that knows how to lead his team, and takes care of them, who knows how to inspire them. The Jack I know got up extra early just to help this hopeless case learn to overcome his fear and be able to play hockey better than he ever could have before. You helped me not just be able to take the check, but I’m a captain, a center, and I earned it because of you. The Jack I know is selfless in so many ways and selfish in just the right ones, and dang it, he’s my best friend, so you better not say anything else like that about him again.”

The bed shifts under him when Jack sits up, a big hand coming up to palm the side of Bitty’s face so Jack can lean his forehead in, look straight at him from just inches away with those stupidly big blue eyes, and be so warm and just Jack.

“You were never hopeless, Bits,” and with his voice that low, being this close, Bitty feels his cheeks getting warm, his eyes helplessly sliding down to Jack’s mouth.

The errant thought Vegas, we’re going to Vegas shakes him out of the moment, and he pats Jack’s forearm, gently pulling back from the very intense, heart-stopping moment where his brain almost killed him when it told him to just go on and kiss Jack.

But his brain also knows it would probably be the last thing he’d ever do with Jack because Jack has Kent for that now, doesn’t he?

Mentally shaking himself, Bitty stands quickly, goes back to his suitcase, “All right, now for heaven’s sake, Jack, help me here. I’ve never been to Las Vegas–”

And it’s not nearly as hot in Georgia as it is in Las Vegas when they get off the plane, but everything else about it is incredible.

(He doesn’t think about how nice it was to ride next to Jack on the plane, talking strategy and the team, the upcoming games and new plays they might bring to the ice. It’s nice to hear about the Falcs eating his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with hollers for more. The pies never last long and cookies are always a favorite.)

He might have worried for about a minute, fiddling with the Uber app on his phone to update his location, but Jack just lays a hand on his back and guides him out of the terminal.

“Don’t worry about it, Bits, we’ve got a ride.”

And standing by a stunning red Ferrari is Kent Parson himself, grinning wide under his sunglasses.

“Oh my,” even if it’s a little breathless, he gives himself an out here because wow, it’s a nice car.

(And he is not at all looking at Kent’s bare arms or muscled calves. Absolutely not. He’s already got one heartache, thank-you very much.)

He still squeaks a little when Kent literally picks him up off his feet and swings him around.

“There’s my guys! Falconers and Rebels!” Kent yells for half the airport to hear.

Jack blinks and Bitty groans softly.

Those blue eyes aren’t accusing him of anything, but it’s that same confused look when he tries to figure out if the next song is Destiny’s Child or Queen Bey herself.

“Rebels?”

He doesn’t wince, but it’s a close thing.

“I’ll...tell you about it later.” He waves off, deflecting perfectly, and snaps up his luggage again now that he’s on his feet.

“Oh,” Kent looks from him to Jack and back to him, and his mouth opens probably to say something else no one else needs to hear.

“Thank-you for coming to pick us up, by the way,” he starts rambling right on, “I’ve never been to Las Vegas before. And we’re even going to watch a game? How exciting! Should I make something for your team? A good luck something maybe? Is there a grocery store close to your house? Can we stop? Maybe I could do a few apple pies and a strawberry one...?”

“You can make me food all day, B,” Kent smiles so wide and white down at him and just swipes his bag right up out of Bitty’s hand like it weighs nothing at all. “My favorite pie is peach, just in case you were wondering.”

Bitty slaps him right on the arm, absolutely offended. “Kenneth Virgil Parson the Third, like I wouldn’t already know what your favorite pie is! Why of all the nerve!”

And that is how Bitty talked himself right out of the AHL conversation with Jack. At least, for the time being.

In the end, he makes two apples, two strawberries, and three peach pies, one for Kenny to keep at home.

Jack mutters under his breath about the Falcs needing a peach pie, and Bitty can absolutely do that once they get back home.

The boys are wonderful at keeping him company in Kent’s big kitchen while he works, staying out of his way unless he directs them.

“It’s not going to be a super exciting game. The Schooners are old rivals since before I came to the Aces,” Kenny shrugs, fish oven mitts on, and his own apron is really just Kit’s face blown up on a white background.

But the man’s fish oven mitt is–

Wait for it

– named Fish.

Because Kent is a master at naming things, obviously.

Kit Puurson is laying on the kitchen table from where Bitty banished her from walking along the counters while he’s baking.

“Now, don’t sell it short, sugar pie,” Bitty replies absently, makes the lattice on the last pie perfect. The A in the center is going to be great once the pie finishes baking. “It’s going to be exciting to see you play live no matter what.”

“Aw,” and Kent is smiling all nice at him now that he probably knows Bitty’s not gunning for his boyfr- for Jack, “you’re just saying that because it’s true.”

“Of course I am, Kent. It is true.”

“Any time you get bored of watching the Falcs, all you have to do is call me, Bits. I’ll have you on a plane in a hot minute,” and Bitty has to look over at him for that because it might have been a chirp at Jack, but the tone was a lil’ too serious for his taste.

“Who knows, Mister Parson, I might take you up on that someday.”

(When hell freezes over.)

“I hope so, Bits,” Kent’s eyes go to the masterpieces on the counter waiting for their turn in the oven, “I really hope so.”

At the game later that night, before the Aces take the ice, Bitty gets a Snap from Kent Parson.

All the pie pans are licked clean. Not a crumb in sight.

Bitty sighs in unmitigated relief.

Even though he feels strange not wearing a Falconers or Samwell jersey when he’s at a hockey game, he can’t blame Jack for leaving their home team merchandise back in Providence.

Earlier, Kent had tugged an Ace's jersey over his head and landed a cap as the cherry on top, winking at him while Jack was busy grumbling to himself about something or other.

It feels odd to have someone’s name across his back other than his own (or frankly Zimmermann because Jack already gave him two hoodies and several other Falcs shirts, which was real kind of him, and they’re such nice clothes!), but his Mama would fly up from Georgia and whoop his butt good if she knew he’d refused a gift from a celebrity.

So, even with Jack scowling, he accepts the jersey and hat for the game tonight.

He and Jack find their seats, right behind the bench, and it looks like they can finally settle in.

Jack keeps a running monologue of stats and predictions, leaning in to Bitty while eating the carrot sticks they'd packed in so Jack wouldn't be tempted with junk food.

This boy and his rigid schedule of cheat days. Honestly.

And Bitty is content to talk hockey and the upcoming season, is content to talk about the Samwell team and the next game coming up.

He gets to watch Kent and the Aces make an opening lap around the rink to wave at their fans, laughs at the finger guns right in their direction.

He settles on in to watch what will probably be a good game no matter what Kent said earlier, and of course, Jack chooses then to bring it up.

"Are you going to tell me about the Rebels anytime soon?” Jack is watching the game when he finally says it, something in his tone of voice that sounds a little closer to mad.

Bitty looks over, guilty as sin, and Jack looks back, all kind of calm.

“I...I didn’t make a decision or anything–” he starts then turns away from those blue eyes. “I-I should go get us something to drink! Jack, what do you want to–”

He’s halfway out of his chair, but Jack’s hand on his wrist stops him, pulls him back down to his seat.

“Don’t be mad!” Bitty sighs, loud and long, “I didn’t even know what to do when Mr. McLean came to see me.”

Jack hums, “You could have called your best friend who happens to be a professional hockey player.”

“That will be enough chirps outta you, Mister Zimmermann. You were already having a time with the changes to your medication, and I didn’t want to add anything else to your list.”

Jack guffaws at him, “that was two months ago, Bits, and my anxiety is under control. You could have told me anytime since then.”

“Well, I–” and Bitty has a moment where his mouth almost runs right away with him, and he almost tells Jack they ain’t datin’ so not everything has to be out in the open.

“You?”

And even though Kent has the puck, Jack’s eyes are all for Bitty.

“Jack,” he sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“You can tell me anything. You know that, right bud?” And that line between his eyebrows lets Bitty know Jack is actually concerned.

“Of course, Jack, I...I just. I don’t know, you’ve got your own career to worry about, and I don’t even know if I still want to play hockey after graduation, nonetheless with a team in the AHL.” He shrugs lamely, pretty sure Jack probably thinks he’s an idiot.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Bits. You don’t have to make a decision right away.”

“Well, I’ve got about five days until he wants to know if I accept their offer,” Bitty rubs the back of his neck, cheeks pink.

“Oh. Well, you should let me read the contract anyway, eh? At the very least, it could help you make a decision if the offer isn’t for much.”

“If– I mean, if you want to? That would be real nice.”

“Euh. Tomorrow morning after my run, we’ll look at it.” Jack gives a sharp nod like he’s accomplished something, pats Bitty on the shoulder, and goes back to the game, just as pleased as pie.

The win was really something for the Aces, and he gets to meet Swoops, Poots, Scrappy, and Gopher when Kent tells them the baker of the pies is at the game.

“Oh my God, I ate like three pieces,” Swoops pats him on the shoulder and laughs.

“I’m so glad you enjoyed it!”

“Oh totally. Gopher can’t help himself around sweets, so you might get a marriage proposal if you aren’t careful.”

“O-oh my! That’s mighty sweet, but I would hate to have to break his poor heart.” Bitty laughs a little and doesn’t notice how Jack’s eyes narrow.

It’s entertaining as all get out when Jack groans at the amount of chirps he’s already gotten for being a Falc instead of an Ace.

“He’s got important...things in Rhode Island,” Kent had finally said to his team, which Bitty did not understand at all.

(But, it does make sense. Jack wants to stay close to Shitty and everyone from Samwell. He couldn��t be part of their nearly everyday lives if he had joined the Aces.)

They drop by Kent’s house to change clothes, and head out to celebrate the victory with the team, and all that fluttering around his room at the Haus is suddenly worth it when he looks damn good in his button-up with a black tank top underneath and a pair of shorts that look like they’ve been painted on his ass.

When he comes downstairs, Kent wolf whistles and Jack gets red in the face.

“Are you sure–” Jack starts, a little stuttery that makes Bitty preen.

“Mister Zimmermann, it’s best you do not finish that sentence,” Bitty snipes with his nose in the air.

It’s absolutely satisfying when two very cute boys dance with him at the club, grinding on him and having a heck of a good time.

He doesn’t notice Jack’s sour face until the third or fourth song in, and by then, Kent is making his way through the crowd.

The hand on his arm pulls him out from between two different boys, and Bitty is just about to give whoever it is what for, but Kent just shifts to grip his hips and pulls him in, back-to-chest.

And Lord help him, Kent is an amazing dancer. How does he even get himself into these things?

Watching his favorite person, favorite people, dance is giving Jack too many Ideas.

He already has plenty when it comes to Bits. Even more when it comes to Kenny since they have history to fall back on, but for Kenny and Bits? His brain might shut down because Jack is even more invested in that.

(Kenny hasn’t said anything, but Jack knows him, knows what the look in those eyes means when he watches Bitty. Instead of Kenny trying to talk him into asking Bitty for a date, maybe Jack should be trying to do the same. Or-or talking about if all three of them…?)

As is, Jack has a lot more thinking to do after this trip.

“I swear I take care of him as much as he lets me,” Jeff is saying, “it’s not like it’s his first year anymore. He’s way past all that, Jack.”

“I know,” Jack downs his beer, tries not to be too irritated at Swoops because of the attitude. Since he and Kenny have been talking again, he knows more about that first year with the Aces and Kenny’s struggles after the Draft than he’d wanted to know at the time. He hadn’t wanted to focus on the difficulties his best friend was having with a new career as a professional athlete, was more concerned about getting himself through rehab.

He’s been finding out about those struggles and bad times, feels better knowing about all the things he’d missed out on back then because that means Kenny is talking to him again.

(“You cut me out!” Still haunts Jack sometimes when he thinks about how he did that to his best friend, his other half. At the time, it had seemed like a trade he didn’t have any other choice but to make, give up his best friend for the chance to get better.)

Jeff was the Ace Kenny billeted with his first year, and the two are close. Maybe even closer than Jack and Kenny had been in the Q.

He doesn’t deserve to be jealous of that, but somehow, he still is.

“I did him wrong when he was in the Draft,” Jack finally admits to Swoops, “and I’m glad he had you and the team there when he needed you. I just...I just want to make sure he’s okay. Kenny means a lot to me.”

Swoops raises a brow over the beer he’s drinking. “He was pretty torn up over you that first year, Zimmermann. If I could have, I would have found you and punched you right in the nose for that kid.”

Jack shrugs a shoulder, “would have deserved it.”

“Yeah, yeah you would have,” but it seems like the salt has gone out of Jeff’s spine, and he slumps down in his seat across from Jack. “I had to tell the team not to mention your name for a long time. Not gonna lie, when you got picked for the Falcs, I drove over to his place and stayed the night in case he had a breakdown.”

And oh does that hit Jack right in the heart.

“But, he was...not okay but okay? He was happy for you, is the point.”

Jack’s heart twists painfully at that, “Euh. He’s a better friend than I deserve.”

“You know, he told me about going to your college, right?”

Jack looks Swoops in the face, thinks he might get a little more clarity about that night of the Epikegster.

“Yeah, he did,” because Jeff can read the tell me more on Jack’s face, “and he beat himself up about it for months. Told me he ran off at the mouth because he was angry at you. Hell, you weren’t even happy to see him.”

At the time, no. No, he wasn’t.

“It was...a shock. We both said some pretty harsh things, I think. But, we’ve come a long way since then.”

“I’d say so. He can say your name without looking like he’s going to start crying now at least.”

Kenny…

“I’m not going to do that again,” Jack feels like he needs Jeff to know this. “He’s stuck with me this time, eh?”

Swoops laughs and raises his glass for Jack to tap with his own, “here’s hoping, Zimmermann. Here’s hoping. But hey, at least he has someone to help pick-up the pieces.”

Kent manages to get them through the throng of people at the bar and get them bottles of water, bracketing Bitty in with his arms to keep people around from jostling them.

They’re both sweaty and panting after the last song, and Bitty doesn’t even know how he managed to survive pretty much humping a professional hockey player on the dance floor without embarrassing himself.

“That was so fun,” Kent leans down to talk in his ear since they’re so close to the music, “can we dance some more?”

“Of course we can, honey,” Bitty tilts so he’s talking in Kent’s ear, and it presses them closer together, “but do you need to check in with your team?”

The laugh is low against his neck and Bitty almost, almost shudders.

“My guys are big boys, Bits. They’ll be fine without me mother-henning them to death.”

“Well, all right then, handsome. You’d better get me on out on that dance floor before someone else does!”

And it’s another song or so before they get a slow one. Kent manages to maneuver them into a corner, and pulls Bits in for a slow dance.

“Lord, that was fun,” Bitty doesn’t think much of it, his hands around Kent’s neck. “I don’t think I’ve had this much fun in a while.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” and Kent gives him that big ole’ smile that makes his whole face light up, and Bitty can’t really blame just one bit for just how cute Kent is in that moment. “I’m glad you came with Jack, Bits.”

“Me too. I had reservations with how close we’re getting to playoffs, but I’m glad I could take the time.”

The hands on his hips squeeze once, and Kent’s face falls, his eyes darting away.

Bitty moves a hand from around his neck to his face and turns him right on back. “Hey, what is it? Should we go?”

“N-no, no. I was just–” and Kent looks back at him with a frown, leans in a little to talk quieter. “Do you still hate me? From when I came to your college?”

And oh. Oh my.

Well, looks like they’re going to have this talk, aren’t they?

“I mean, it’s okay if you do. I was...a dick, okay? I was a complete and total dick. Zimms and I talked about it some, so-so he gets why I said some of the things I said because I mean, he just–and-and I… There’s a lot is all I’m saying. It was awful, not-not all of it, but therapy kind of helps a little? Sometimes it helps I mean, dealing with it when I found him like that, and then later when Big Bob–”

Bitty gently puts a hand over Kent’s mouth to shush him on up.

“Kent, honey,” he tries softly, misses how those eyes get wide above his hand, “I understand how someone can say mean things when feelings are hurt, and it seems like you and Jack have mended fences since then, right?”

Kent nods without dislodging his hand, but his eyes are shiny and just oh, that poor boy. Jack had talked to him about those days back in Quebec with Kent Parson as his right-hand man, Bitty knows Kent is the one that saved Jack’s life during that overdose. He knows how quiet and strained Jack’s voice gets when he talks about it, can only imagine how terrified Kent had been finding him, performing CPR, getting him to the hospital in Bad Bob Zimmermann’s car.

He can’t touch that painful past for either of them, wishes sometimes he can give that back when he hears how wistful Jack sounds, sees how Kent sometimes looks like he has regrets. No, Bitty can’t fix their past for them, give them back their innocent days, but he can help the people they are in the here and now, can’t he?

“Well, that’s good to hear. What’s really important is that you don’t do that again, all right? Don’t take your anger out on Jack even if he might deserve it sometimes, and don’t ever say those horrible things to him again. Okay?”

Kent blinks at him and his eyes go softly half-mast. He finally nods with Bitty’s hand still over his mouth.

“Good. Then, we’re all fine, right?”

Another nod and a squeeze to his hips.

“Wonderful. Now Mister Parson, we are going to finish this song and then go back to your boys to celebrate. Maybe if we’re lucky, they’ll play ‘Crazy in Love’ later because that is one of my favorites.” He takes his hand away and grins up at Kent while his heart beats harder at the soft smile looking down on him.

“Good plan, B. If they play it, you can only dance with me, okay?”

“Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?”

Sure enough, the DJ plays ‘Crazy in Love’ and Bitty is pretty sure Kent’s the one that asked for it. That absolutely doesn’t mean he gives it any less ass shaking than it rightfully deserves.

He’s happy to see Jack laughing with Swoops and Poots when they finally tear themselves away from dancing, and Bitty absolutely refuses to drink whatever fruity thing Kent offers him because he’s not twenty-one quite yet, thank-you very much Mister Parson.

But the Aces are so nice when they leave, thanking Bitty again for his victory pies. He waves them off and doesn’t mind Jack’s hand at the small of his back when Kent guides them out.

(Later that night, he pretends he doesn’t hear Jack get up off the couch and walk down the hall to Kent’s room and softly close the door. But at that point, he’s not sure if he’s still a little jealous, or even who he’s really jealous of if he’s honest with himself.)

He eventually gets a few hours of sleep, and still wakes up god-awful early anyhow.

Since he’s been in this kitchen for three days already, he automatically puts on coffee and pulls out what he’s going to need to feed two big hockey players.

He doesn’t even register Kent in the doorway watching him until the first cup of coffee is gone and the second is on the way there.

“Oh my Lord!” He fairly screams when he notices Kent watching.

“Sorry,” is totally unrepentant, the ass.

“You sure look it!” Bitty chirps back after his heart has climbed down out of his throat. “Goodness sakes, were you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Nah, you just look cute in my kitchen, all busy and stuff. I like it.”

And well, that just takes the words right out of his mouth, so he goes back to make sure the bacon doesn’t burn while the quiche cools.

“Bits?!”

Jack is flustered and drenched from the shower, skittering almost right on the ground. He’s only got a towel around his waist and his hair is all over the place.

Bitty can resolutely say it’s the best morning in the history of mornings because that towel is awful short and Jack’s legs are awful long.

“I’m sorry! He just surprised me, we’re fine!” Bitty flaps his hands to shoo Jack out of the doorway. “Go on now and finish your shower. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Jack wipes water out of his eyes from his dripping hair and looks down at him silently.

“I promise, Jack. Go on now. Shoo! Naked is for the bathroom and the locker room.”

The slow grin is really just the nail in the coffin because no man should be that beautiful, it’s really not fair to the gay population.

A glance at Kent’s shit-eating grin and he has to silently amend that statement. No men should be this beautiful.

While Jack trucks back down the hall, Bitty grabs paper towels to sop up the water he’d trailed, giving them up to Kent when he gets a frown for trying to clean up.

He tisks to himself and pours Kent a cup of coffee, mixing in the right amounts of cream and sugar, hands it to him when he throws away the wet paper towels.

He puts the bacon on another paper towel to get some of the grease while Kent sits down with his coffee.

“I had so much fun last night. I can’t thank-you enough for taking us.” As he puts the quiche in the middle of the table.

“I had fun, too, B. Most the guys won’t dance no matter what, and you are awesome.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, sugar pie.”

Kent laughs at him, but reaches out to grip Bitty’s wrist before he can go back to the stove, “but, just so I know...you really don’t hate me anymore, right? We’re friends now?”

Oh, this must be the I need to tell you as Jack’s friend that me and him are datin’ talk. Lord, help him get through this conversation.

“Now, Kent. I already told you last night as long as you don’t hurt Jack like that again and have significantly groveled, we’re all fine.”

“Yeah, I know, but I mean, you and me. We’re fine, too, right?”

“Why of course we are.”

“Okay. Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure.”

Bitty pats Kent’s hand with the free one, “and you already know you can talk to me about anything, right? If things like that are bothering you, you can talk them out with me before you go and say something like that again, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Bits.”

“You’re welcome, Kent.”

He retracts his hand with another pat and goes back for the bacon, waiting for the something else that might be on Mr. Parson’s mind.

“Bits?”

Mmhm. There is it. “Yes, Kent?”

“You...can call me Kenny, too...I mean, if you want.”

The bacon plate in hand, and Bitty turns to look at the pink cheeks on Kent Parson, the way he doesn’t meet Bitty’s surprised eye.

(Even with all his team and the press coverage, he’s only ever heard Jack call Kent ‘Kenny.’)

“All right then, Kenny,” and oh is he grinning, thinking about chirping him just for fun. “I think we’re just about ready for breakfast.”

Nothing else comes of it, and Bitty’s not sure if he’s relieved or not.

Jack slowly, methodically reads through the scans of the Rebels contract he’s got back at Samwell. Kent reads over his shoulder, eyebrows squinty in concentration.

Lord, they look so cute like that. It’s really surprising no one else has picked up on the dating yet because these two are absolutely transparent.

“So–”

He gets twin wait a minute fingers.

“Well fine then,” and he meanders in the kitchen to see if maybe he should make those peppermint cookies after all.

A batch later and both boys come on in and sit at the table with the tablet between them.

Bitty absolutely puts the cookies in the middle and pours glasses of milk. Kent looks from the plate to him with wide eyes.

Two seconds later, he’s already demolishing his third.

Boys.

“All right, you two. Give me the low-down.” Bitty waves a hand over his shoulder and starts washing up dishes.

Jack tells him how it seems to be a right fair offer for a rookie hockey player. The money could be better, but well, it ain’t too shabby.

Bitty sighs because the money is utterly obscene. More than his scholarship to Samwell for all four years.

Kent has no problem finishing Jack’s thoughts when he trails off, longer in the profession than Jack. He gives more examples of what bad contracts would probably be and makes Bitty wonder if this isn’t his first time helping with these sorts of things.

Well, as Captain of the Aces, he probably has. Not to mention how he babies his rookies.

“So,” Bitty finally bites on his lip, looking down at the tablet, “so if...if I wanted to keep playing hockey after graduation. This is a good opportunity, is what you’re tellin’ me.”

Both Jack and Kent nod at him, serious as a heart attack.

“This is a good opportunity, Bits.”

“But,” Kent looks at him seriously, “we aren’t agents, either. This is from our experience. For a professional opinion, I can suggest some guys, so can Jack, that can haggle the contract for you.”

He stands at the sink with soapy hands braced on the edges, just looking out the window into Kent’s nice backyard.

Kit is lounging on a dishtowel right there on the ledge to get some sun.

And just like his worst tendency, Jack stands up with a cookie and saunters over to stand beside him, back against the counter.

“It’s a lot to take in, bud,” is all growly and soft.

“I never imagined playing hockey after this year,” he admits, “buying a bakery, sure. Learning under other chefs, maybe taking a turn in another culinary art, yes. But, professional hockey? Hell, I couldn’t take a check without passin’ out a few years ago, Jack.”

Jack munches on his cookie, watching Bitty’s profile with soft eyes. “True. But, couple years ago, you wouldn’t have thought you’d end up Captain, and be on your way to the Frozen Four, eh?”

Kent shuffles his feet a little but boosts himself up on the counter beside Jack. “The AHL is like, our version of boot camp, you know? The kiddie pool before you hit the NHL. And there’s a four-season standard for that reason, B. You’ve got four seasons to play your best game and see if the Scouts are interested. I mean, a lot of guys that get a bad break and don’t make it, they can renew their contracts every four years or join the practice teams. Guys that still want to play hockey, like a lot of the guys on the Rebs.”

“That offer is for one season, though.”

“Sure,” Jack fills in, meandering back for another, handing one off to Kent. “It’s a chance to get your feet wet, Bits, see if you can make the first year. I didn’t get a four-year from the Falcs until I got through the probationary period.”

“Lucky they didn’t make you billet, Jack. That’s usually a requirement.”

“Nah, I was old enough. Marty and Tater kept up with me, though. And I had Bits,” Jack shrugs and promises himself this is the last one even as he eyes the full plate.

He glances over at the serious expression on Bitty’s face, thoughts turning behind his eyes because now he’s thinking about it. On one hand, yes, he wants his bud to stay close, be on their sister team’s roster. Pawtucket is only twenty minutes or so from Providence, even closer than Samwell.

(Jack wouldn’t have to lose him if Bits accepts the offer, keeps playing hockey. Jack thinks he’s terrible for wanting that as much as he does.)

For Bitty, the eminent future is looking closer and closer as this year draws to a close. Getting this offer was terrifying because of all those what if’s?

Kent hums around a mouthful, leans around Jack to look at him. “Sure, but you never know, B. You take Samwell to the ECAC, and there might be more people coming to talk to you.”

“Sugar pie, I’ve seen what you and Jack are up against. If there’s one thing I’m absolutely sure of, it’s that I’m not ready for the NHL, no matter how far we go this year. But–” he sighs a little.

“But what, bud?”

“...the real question is, what if I’m not ready to give it up once the season’s over?”

Kent chuckles at him around the last bite, “then you’ll have a year with the Rebels to figure out if you’re done with hockey, or not.”

He catches his breath a little (could it really be as simple as that?).

“...that’s what I needed to know, thank-you boys.” He pats Kent on the leg and Jack on the arm, taking up the tablet, swinging right around to go back to the stove and wait for the next batch, hip hitched on the cabinets while he reads all over again.

He’s going to call Coach and Mama when he gets back to Samwell. Then on Monday morning, he’s going to call Mr. McLean and accept the offer.

It’s not his fault most the people he’s friends with are so much taller than him.

Really, it’s not.

So when Kent just grabs him up before he and Jack get on the plane and hugs him tight for long minutes, Bitty’s feet dangle off the ground, but he’s pretty much used to it by now. Shitty broke him of it first, Holster helped.

“I’m going to miss you,” is said against his shoulder because he thinks Kent might just be tearing up.

Because of Jack.

Because Jack’s leaving.

Right?

With his feet still dangling, he pats the back of Kent’s head soothingly. “I’ll miss you too, honey. But, it’s not forever, right? We’ll see you again.”

Kent eventually put him down when Jack laid a hand to his shoulder and turned him in for a hug, and Bitty looks away when Kent wraps himself around Jack like an octopus, shoulders shaking just a little.

Jack makes soothing circles on Kent’s back, talks softly in French, and just holds on for a few long minutes. Bitty makes himself busy by checking their luggage tags and slips away to get them some coffee from one of the twelve Starbucks in the airport.

A caramel frappuccino helps a little, and Kent just sweeps him on up again.

Jack keeps a hand on the back of Kent’s neck until the very last second, and something in Bitty’s chest tightens a little, but for the very first time, he’s not sure if it’s for Jack touching Kent like that or if it’s for Kent being all upset they’re leaving.

Something to think about another day.

As is, he’s got a thesis to write, a team to take care of, and a pair of professional hockey players that need fresh baked goods. His plate is pretty much full.

** 4

His vlog has always been somewhere to vent when he needed to, and even if he doesn’t have a huge following with millions of subscribers (yet), he didn’t think things would turn out this way.

But, the school newspaper he usually ignores puts it right out there for everyone to read.

Eric Bittle of Samwell’s Own Hockey Team is the First Out Captain in the NCAA

Dex is there to put a hand on his shoulder when he feels like he suddenly can’t breathe.

Someone watched his vlog and picked up on a few things apparently (“Never fall for a straight boy.” Those words are going to haunt him forever).

He’s out to the team, but not the rest of campus. Good Lord. Hopefully no one pays it any mind, and they can just ride right along to the next game.

It does not go away.

Instead, the news catches fire, and before he knows it, his face is on ESPN as the first out NCAA captain. The rainbow background isn’t doing him any favors, but in between the panic in his brain, he thinks the yellow of the spectrum looks real nice with those shorts.

Chowder is the one that calls him in to look at the breaking story, looking over the couch to take note of Bitty’s face.

He shows how much his reflexes have improved when he throws himself over the couch and latches on when Bitty’s knees fail and he almost sprawls himself all over the floor.

His phone is in his hand, and Chowder is talking, saying something. He didn’t know when Ollie and Wicks, Dex and Nursey, Tango and Whiskey and Foxtrot, River, Hops, and Louis all got there crowded around him, but he just seems to blink and there they all are.

“I,” he starts loudly, immediately quieting everyone with a single word, “am going to make a pie. Everyone is welcome to hang out while I am doing so.”

So, he makes a pie and while he does, he makes a plan.

He talks out how this could affect the team’s chances of getting to the Championship, how this could affect how they play, how they plan to win the next few games. Bitty thinks it might be smart to step down as captain, being pragmatic as possible now that he’s not panicking about finishing the season and his senior year at Samwell.

Whiskey, who he hadn’t been able to connect with all darn season (more n’ likely because he found Whiskey at that party kissing the Lax bro), smashes his fist on the table and says that’s a whole lotta bull. Bitty’s the one that got them this far, and he’ll take them the rest of the way.

(Bitty still has several talks in the next few days. With the coaching staff, with Samwell administration, with the entire gathered team. He gives all of them the same option. He’ll give up being captain or all out quit the team if this would hurt their changes to go to the Frozen Four. He gets the same denial, loud and belligerent from his whole team –which warms his heart, honestly. They’re all such good boys.)

They decide to handle it one game at a time, and break for the night. In his room with coppery fear still in the back of his mouth, he holds his phone and stares at the contact information for Home.

He’s almost pressed it when a FaceTime request comes from Kent.

Almost at the same time Jack doesn’t bother to knock, but just throws his bedroom door open, looking like he’d run miles.

Throwing himself to his feet, both hands up, he probably looks terrified because Jack scared the absolute heck out of him.

“Bits,” and now it’s Jack that’s got both hands up, coming at him, “Bits, it’s okay. It’s okay, bud.” And he really means to say something, but he’s just all caught up in Jack. He smells so good and feels so nice, he’s strong when Bitty feels weak and shaky, picking him right on up and sitting down to fold over him like a big Canadian blanket.

“What a horrible way to be outed,” he laughs through the shakes, but his voice is hoarse. “This is absolutely awful, Jack.”

“God, it really is. I’m so sorry this is happening to you, Bits.”

“Lord, I’m making a fool of myself. What’s done is done, I suppose.”

“Still, I want to be here for you.”

“Oh, honey. I appreciate it.”

And he just lets himself sink into Jack a little, burying his face in Jack’s neck, just tries to breathe.

His phone goes off again, and this time Jack picks it up, sees who it is, and taps the top of Bitty’s head with it.

He thumbs the request without looking, just keeping his face right where it is. This is the best he’s felt since that awful ticker tape just laid out his biggest secret, and put a big ole’ target right on his back.

“Hi Kenny,” and he’s proud his voice sounds as steady as it does.

“Hey B,” is so soft and concerned, his heart gives a little patter.

Jack holds the phone for him with one hand, and squeezes him tight with the other.

“This sucks so hard, B. I’m so sorry ESPN gives a fuck about college sports enough to do something shitty like this.”

He raises his face just enough for Kent to see half his face out of Jack’s bulk. “One of those silly human interest stories, I guess. Too bad they got a little too interested, huh?”

“You can totally sue the shit out of them, okay? B, I know a guy. He could get you millions.”

“That won’t make everything right, Kenny, but thank-you for being here with me.” He gives a shuddering sigh, “I’m still going to have to deal with the backlash, and as much as I hate it, so will the team. I haven’t talked to the administration or the coaches, but it might be smart if I step down for the rest of the season, maybe quit outright. Then the boys might still be able to make it to the Frozen Four…”

“You’re two games away, B. You can’t give up now!”

“Agree. You got them here, they’ll have your back, Bits.”

“Kenny, Jack this is hockey. Everyone we go against from here on out is going to be gunning for us. The things they’re going to say to the boys–”

“They’ll handle it. Trust me,” Jack soothes, “they won’t let you give up either.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll see come Monday,” he’s tired, but there’s no slowing down right now, even if Kent is petting Kit and Jack’s lap is absurdly comfortable.

“Besides,” Kent continues, “you’re not alone, B. Plenty of us in the NHL. We’re just not like, out out. Maybe to our teams and stuff, not like, outed on ESPN or anything, fuck those guys. You seriously don’t want me to contact my guy for you? He got 6.8 million dollars for a celebrity case–”

“So you’re out to your team then, Captain Parson?” He blinks because the way Kent just came out with it, not a stutter one, shakes him.

“Huh? Well, yeah, of course I am. I’ve been on the Aces for years, Bits. These guys are like my family, so yeah, they know.”

“O-oh.”

Kent blinks at him, pauses. “Ah, I didn’t come right out and tell you, but yeah. Me too, so it’s okay, B. You’re not alone.”

It’s that moment when Jack leans down, shifting so Bitty’s looking up at him. “You’re not alone,” Jack repeats softly, “I kiss boys sometimes, too. None of that changes how good you are at hockey, and none of that changes you, okay Bits?”

And Lord above help him. He throws both arms around Jack, biting his lower lip between his teeth, and shaking like a leaf in a wind storm.

“Jack...Kenny…thank-you, boys. Just when I need you, and there you are.” He chokes a little, and there’s Jack folding down around him, there’s Kent holding Kit closer to the phone, sending virtual purrs and cuddles.

He doesn’t feel that bad wrapping his legs around Jack’s waist shamelessly, locking his ankles in the back, and just not facing the world for a while.

It gets a little better when Jack tries to squeeze into a pair of his shorts while Kenny is brushing his teeth and talking about the camp they had at a local rink, running drills and plays with some of the high school kids from around the area.

But everything in the world absolutely pauses when Jack clears his throat awkwardly

And really, God Bless Canada.

The little sigh that comes out of him is echoed from his phone, and yes Kenny, they do have good taste.

“I can’t sleep in these, Bits, ah, sorry.”

But that color blue stretched taunt against Jack’s big thigh is just the best sight he’s probably ever seen.

“I’m sorry, but that’s all I’ve got to offer. I can go talk to Dex?” Because Chowder has wider shoulders like Jack, but is about a foot shorter.

“Eh, not necessary.”

And well, yes. Bitty knows Jack wears cute little briefs. They were on a team together, have spent time in the locker room, have seen the occasional moment before towels go on. It’s men’s sports for crying out loud.

But none of that, absolutely none of that, prepares him for Jack shimmying out of those shorts for black briefs that absolutely mold to his behind and cup the front of him. The real coup de gras is that t-shirt coming off, and heaven help him, it’s muscles for miles.

Only those little briefs between Bitty and what the Good Lord gave Jack, the definition of fine walking across the room like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

Bitty unabashedly watches, lips parted, cheeks a soft shade of pink.

Jack closes the bathroom door, smirking where Bits can’t see, muffled noises as he roots around in the bathroom for a spare toothbrush. It gives Bitty can just take a second to himself to take in this whole situation.

He’s been outed on a national sports network that may or may not take the question of the Rebels right out of the equation

Chances of going all the way to the finals is looking slimmer and slimmer the more he thinks about it

Jack and Kenny confirmed some of his suspicions and it’s an absolute crime and a blessing that they’ve found each other again

Jack has gotten bulkier than Bitty realized in the last year and a half playing for the NHL and his ass should be marked as a dangerous weapon

He hasn’t answered any of the phone calls from home

Still, Coach sent him a text, Call your mother. She’s worried about you.

And top of the list, Jack Zimmermann is in his bathroom, shirtless, barefoot, after just having verbally come out to him.

If there was ever anyone that deserves to be up for Sainthood, it’s this good ole’ Georgia boy Right. Here.

With his head in his hands, he groans softly, and scurries to throw on his own sleep clothes, stripping down without a thought more than those short on Jack and those shorts off Jack.

“I absolutely feel you,” a breathy chirp, and he forgot Kenny probably saw the entire thing.

Bitty spins, almost ready to start getting on a boat down that river called denial when he realizes Kenny is giving him the most devilish looking smile.

“It’s really unfair that he’s a hockey God and blisteringly hot to boot.”

“We are the best of friends, I’ll have you know Mister Parson. Jack doesn’t even see me that way, even after tonight. Besides, I’m pretty sure he’s got his eye set on someone prettier than little ole’ me.”

He throws the covers back to busy his hands, but can spare a second to put some charm into it and look back at Kenny with a wink.

It’s either the best or the worst timing because Kenny gets this look on his face, opening his mouth for something that might have been good or bad, when Jack comes out of the bathroom smelling like mint and looking like a touch could burn you down to the ground.

Kenny looks at him for a few long seconds while they’re climbing into bed, and chirps them about hands above the comforter and hockey bros cuddle like champs before he yawns and finally hangs up for the night.

The sheet gets maneuvered between them so he’s not going to be tortured most of the night with only his sleep shirt and pants between them–

(and those sinful underwear, he’s never going to forget those)

–so it’s suspiciously easy to drop off with Jack’s arm around him and snoring in his ear.

The next two games are utterly brutal.

Ice bags are wrapped around his shoulder while he sits in his spot in the locker room, forearms on his knees to just hurt while Chowder is talking at his right and Dex at his left.

The bruises tomorrow are going to be beautiful, but heck, what’s some bruises when Samwell is officially in the Frozen Four.

Lord, they made it.

And he will start celebrating, right after he can raise up his arm again.

Oh, that’s going to be sore tomorrow. Making pies for the campus captain club is going to be awful, isn’t it?

He manages to get the ice bags off in time to walk with the boys back to the Haus, Ollie already scooping up his bag and Chowder, bless his heart, hovering anxiously right by him the whole walk there.

They don’t make him do a keg stand this time, thank goodness, but the party celebrating their win is well underway in less than an hour.

It’s real nice when the Lax bros bring in a stack of pizzas and slap him on the back in congratulations, like he hadn’t just been outed on national television. (He loves Samwell so much.) Chad L. says a whole bunch of something that Bitty tries to follow and ends up handing him a plate with pizza and accepting a piece of pie in exchange.

The fire extinguisher is in plain sight to remind the footballers what could happen if they don’t behave, and at least two of his boys hang around him most the night, bracketing him on both sides to keep an eye on him. Ollie and Wicks pop around the corner periodically anyhow.

He catches Chowder taking a picture for social media, has a second of panic, almost tells his sweet son not to do that because everyone knows, but shuts his mouth last minute and straightens up to grin for the next one.

The night the news came out, Bitty changed his social media to private, hoping to avoid some of the homophobic comments. Since the morning after (and it’s a crying shame he missed seeing those little black briefs again since Jack was already dressed by the time he got up), he’s been talking to pretty much everyone.

Most of all, his Mama and Coach...and Mr. McLean.

Jack squeezes his hand, and Bitty bites his lip, but still, “I’m afraid I don’t think I should accept your offer after all. This isn’t going to blow over any time soon.”

“Mr. Bittle. I’m interested because you’re fast, you’ve got soft hand, and you’re a good fit for the Rebels. As far as I understand, this isn’t going to change any of that.”

“O-oh!”

“If you want to play hockey, Mr. Bittle, you can do that with us.”

And it’s there when he looks in Jack’s blue, blue eyes, when he thinks about Ollie and Wicks, when he thinks about Shitty being so kind when he’d come out to the first person on the team. It’s there when he thinks about being terrified at that first check practice, when he thinks about how dang far he’s come in four years.

(It’s tough, but you’re tougher.)

“I want to play hockey, Mr. McLean.”

“That’s the spirit Mr. Bittle. I’ll send you training camp information in the next week or so. Welcome to the Pawtucket Rebels.”

If Jack holds him tight while he almost shakes apart once he hangs up the phone, well, only Chowder and Dex will ever tell a soul because they fell on him and Jack like a ton of bricks, hugging him and laughing.

Shitty, Ranson, Holster, and Lardo make the trip from Boston to show up on the Haus doorstep before they’ve even finished clean-up from the party the night before.

Before he knows it, he’s got Shitty crying all over him, telling him he’s so proud and Bitty’s just the best little captain there ever was.

It’s so nice because Shitty is silly as hell, but he’s an amazing friend in times of need.

And he can’t say it isn’t nice when Shitty picks up the loud speaker and starts shooing the rest of the hanger-oners out.

“Frozen Four!” Ransom crows, “our guys are going to kick some ass.”

“You said it, bro,” Holster warmly pats Bitty on the shoulder with one of those big hands while this pie is just coming along easily enough.

The flinch when the bruises ache is enough for more ice bags to get wrapped around him, and Shitty to shake a finger in his face, talking about taking care of himself. It might not be a concussion, but they’ve got serious games coming up, and he needs to be tip top if he’s going to take them all the way.

Bitty takes it to heart and lets them baby him for a few hours.

It does get worse when Dex and Chowder see Holster pulling the neck of his shirt up a little to check how bad it is, and then he’s got more hockey players in his kitchen butting in. Luckily, Dex is getting just as good at making pie as Bitty, and finishes up the lattice work perfectly.

He talks strategy with Ransom and Holster at the kitchen table while Lardo makes another pot of coffee, and Chowder subtly slips the bottle of ibuprofen next to him. Whiskey listen to them strategize for the upcoming games, and my, don’t it feel so normal.

He hugs Shitty again, holds on just as tight as he can, and thanks the Good Lord for such amazing friends.

Mama and Coach are more understanding than he ever would have imagined, taken in account what a shock it is just to come across the television like that.

“Dickey, honey, now you know,” and she has to pause because Lord, his Mama is crying, “you know you can always come home. Always. No matter what. We love you. We love you and everything else, we can figure all that out.”

And so, since he’s never said it, only thought about what could happen, he tells her, “Mama… I’m gay.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know and that’s-that’s fine. We can figure it all out. But, you can come home sometime before the semester ends, can’t you?”

“N-not while we’re close to the Championships, Mama. I-I can’t–”

“Junior.”

And now he’s glad he just called instead of trying to FaceTime. So glad he doesn’t have to look Coach in the face right now.

“You’ve done a heck of a job this year. Been a good captain. You know me and your mama are proud, don’t you Junior?”

And there goes his lip all trembling, his eyes getting hot. Only Jack squeezing his hand keeps him together at all.

“Y-yes, Daddy.”

“Good. You just keep fighting. We’ll be here cheering you on, all right?”

His breath hitches in his chest, “yes, Daddy.”

“That’s my boy. You can do it, Junior. They’re tough–”

“–but I’m tougher,” and he’s covering his eyes, shoulder hunching down. Jack goes from holding his hand to pretty much lifting him up enough to slide on Jack’s lap.

“That’s right, son. You sure as hell are.”

He sighs out, a soft noise. “I am, Daddy. We made the Frozen Four.”

“Go get ‘im. Me and your Mama are behind you all the way.”

And even if Coach gets squicky when it’s time for I love you, Bitty manages to get it out anyhow.

“Love you too, son. Now you gotta stop, or else your mama’s gonna drown me.”

The thick laugh is so much better than crying. Jack thinks so too apparently, squeezing tight while Bitty’s sitting on his thighs.

If he thinks there’s a kiss pressed to the top of his head, well, he’s just going to blame it on being emotionally overwrought and leave it at that.

He didn’t bother with pads, just pants, sweatshirt, gloves, stick, helmet, and skates. The ice is quiet as can be in the morning light bouncing off Faber, making it beautiful.

Kenny’s far enough ahead of them that he’s on a break from practice, already home making brunch. “Big Red is going to be killer, B. Cornell is ruthless. Fighting Hawks from North Dakota.”

His skates cut through the ice until he’s gliding, hitting the long stretch, pumping as fast as his legs can take him, cycling the puck.

He doesn’t reply to Kenny, just listens while his muscles burn, his mind works, he sees the next move like a playbook.

Over the past four years, he’s gotten stronger, faster. Sure, he’s smaller than the average hockey player, but that don’t mean weak. Everyone they’ve played already figured that one out now didn’t they?

His arms and shoulders burn when he swings high, throws some muscle in it when he slaps the puck right in the sweet spot of the net.

“No fair, B. I want to watch!”

“I’d have to set my phone in the stands, sugar pie.”

“If that means I get to watch you do suicides, I’m on board.”

Bitty laughs out loud because Lord, he sounds like Jack.

“Trying to kill me before practice?”

“Captain’s prerogative, babe.”

Obligingly, Bitty sets up his helmet, laying on it’s side, throws a t-shirt in it to hold the phone up, and FaceTimes Kenny.

He gives the captain of the Aces a wink and then takes off to the blue line. He’s got his game face on, stick balanced perfectly, moving like his ass is on fire.

After a good turn out, he skates back to the stands where Kenny is very close to the screen.

“Well, there you go, Captain,” he snickers, scooping up the whole thing so Kent goes around the rink for some easy, cool-down laps with him before the boys start meandering in for practice. “That what you wanted to see?”

“You? Are fast, B. That was incredible.”

“Oh, sugar pie,” he grins down at Kent’s face in his helmet, “you say the nicest things.”

“Hey, I’m not being nice, Bits. I’m saying as a professional hockey player that you? Are fast.”

“Well, so are you. Short guys like us have a tendency to out-maneuver the big guys.”

“I’ve based most of my career on being the fast guy on the team, B, but I don’t know how I’d hold up against you.”

“Mmhm. I also haven’t been playing professionally for the last few years, tearing the fire out of my knee, Kent.” Very serious because he’s counted how many nights he’s seen ice bags over that knee in the last few weeks.

“Also true. It might be surgery for me this summer, but that should do a lot. I’ll have maybe ten years instead of five.”

“So you said. Your doctor is talking about it again?”

“...yeah. He says it should do wonders for where I’m at right now, and this might be the year to just do it and get it over with.”

“Three-time Stanley Cup winner is where you’re at right now, sugar pie.”

The laugh is nice, but now he’s wondering if he can convince Kenny to come to Providence and stay with Jack during his recovery. That’ll let Bitty be close enough to come over and take care of him while his knee heals. He’s already thinking it over when his third lap is coming up.

“B.” Startles him right out of his thoughts.

“Kenny?”

And something is there in the way Kenny is looking at him from the screen. “Be careful at the game tonight. Watch out for the Minnesota D-Men, okay?”

“Thank-you, sugar. You watch on out for those Rangers.”

“I will. Just send me a text when the game is over, even if I’m in overtime, okay?”

“You know it, honey. Now go on and get a nap. We’ve both got a busy night tonight.”

This could be the last time he steps out on the ice. This could be it. All of it could end right here right now.

They’ve got to play their hearts out. He’s got to give it everything he’s got. For himself, for the boys, for Samwell.

It comes down to this, facing Minnesota’s line like there ain’t no going back.

He sits on his bed, faggot and fairy in his head from the game earlier. He doesn’t accept Jack’s call because his face is a mess.

Well, serves him right because Jack just shows up at the Haus an hour later when Bitty has finally got it together.

The check is absolutely brutal.

He used to be floored by it, curled up in a little ball on the ice, couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could barely breathe.

But not this damn time. Oh hell no.

It’s fast when he’s back up on his feet, shoving his way through bigger men than him and stealing that puck right on out from under them.

He feels like he’s got wings on his feet when he glides by them like they’re just standing still.

Mama and Coach are here because they’ve come down to the last stand.

This is it.

Jack and Kenny are both there and where in the world they got #15 Bittle jerseys, he will never know.

Number #82 has already been gunning for him, but the last one is the very last of Eric Bittle’s patience running right on out.

His heart is racing, his legs burning, skates cutting ice as he steers around players, gritting his teeth against the ache, and for the first time, he’s gonna stand up, holler out that no, he’s not gonna take that nonsense lying down.

The moment slows down for long enough that he feels weightless when he pushes off, is airborn, shoving all his weight right into #82 just as they’re at the Samwell bench and shove the both of them right in with the boys.

It’s a tangle of arms and legs and skates and sputtering.

“Try me again, asshole,” Bitty sneers in #82’s face with the face guards the only thing between them.

“Homophobic prick!” One of his boys shouts.

Coach and the boys pick him up (shocked because he doesn’t usually have a need for potty mouth thank-you very much), want him to go get checked out while the ref blows the whistle just after Whiskey gets the puck, and now it’s all on Samwell.

He doesn’t get a penalty, thank goodness, and argues loudly with Coach to let him back in the game, he needs to get back. It’s not like he lost a tooth, just some scratches from going over. It’s a long look in his eyes before Coach just throws up his hands and shoos him back.

And Bitty’s not thinking about Jack and Kenny and Shitty and Lardo and Ransom and Holster and Mama and Daddy and everyone else up in those stands screaming for them when he hits the ice again. He’s not thinking about how badly he hurts or the scratches on his face. He’s not thinking about his thesis or graduation or his spot in Jack’s guest room.

He’s only thinking about the tied score, the next play, and how they’re going to show these away boys exactly who’s house this is.

And his arms strain when his stick comes back, when he slams that puck with every ounce of strength he has left. His heart thuds hard in the back of his mouth when their goalie’s hand shoots out, tries to catch the puck, just the tips of his gloves skimming the surface.

The alarm blares and the scoreboard changes so fast, Bitty’s not really sure what happened until his boys slam into him, gather all around him, screaming.

He’s dazed, fingers limply holding his stick, eyes still stuck on the scoreboard even when they lift him up, stick and all.

The crowd takes to the ice, and he gets his helmet off in time to get hugs from Mama and Coach, in time to accept the huge trophy, him and Coach and Dex holding it up with all the boys around them just a hooting and a hollering all over the place.

Ransom and Holster catch him right up off his feet, crying all over him when they tell him how proud they are.

The interviews shake him out of the daze and he tells the viewers at home that the team fought hard for this and earned it all themselves. He’s proud to be their teammate and captain, he’s proud to be a Wellie, and darn it, their hard work paid off.

Just as he turns, sees Chowder going past with three of their guys behind him, singing the Samwell song at the top of their lungs, he catches Jack and Kenny standing on the ice by the boards, watching him with soft smiles on their faces, and his eyes get hot abruptly, get full as can be.

Center ice, just like with the Stanley Cup. And this ain’t that now. This? This one is all his.

He feels his lower lip tremble just a little, puts his hand up to stop it, but dang it if Jack and Kenny aren’t just easing across the ice toward him with those smiles and his name across the back of their shoulders.

He gets a hand on the back of his neck and a shoulder to hide his face while the whooping and celebrating gets loud, loud, loud.

Lord, he’s going to vlog the hell out of this tomorrow.

Shitty is naked.

While it’s not new (they’ve been to Haus 2.0, and yes, Shitty was naked there too. Good times, really), Bitty has always had reservations about him being skin-to-fabric on that dang couch. Who knows what he might get. Well, all that spilled tub juice probably goes a long way to sanitize. Or so he says to keep his revolution to a minimum.

Watching Kenny get his ass handed to him from Lardo is hilarious. Watching Jack give in and have a chugging competition is even better.

He’s lucky the ECAC playoffs beat the NHL by almost a month. Jack and Kenny have another week before they start getting serious.

Ransom and Holster are talking animatedly with the Waffles, back slaps all around. He’s pleased as can be when Shruti, Sharon, Edgar, Chad L., and some other captains drop by to say congratulations and have a piece of pie. He doesn’t see Jack pause over his shoulder while he talks up a storm, doesn’t see the considering look on Jack’s face.

Something about this Bitty hits him harder than the last four years, makes that perpetual tightness in his chest mean something completely different than anxiety.

He should have realized it long before his graduation, should have been terrified of it all happening again.

Bitty affects him in so many of the same ways Kenny does, and it’s an amazing yet terrifying thing for Jack Zimmermann. Feeling like this person you’re looking at is literally made for you.

And just as he starts taking a step forward, pushing himself in to stand at Bitty’s side like he’s done the majority of their friendship, Kenny ducks out of nowhere and takes him by both biceps. His expression is desperate.

“You’ve got to stop her. Zimms. Zimms, be on my team. Right now.”

It’s so absurd because it’s Kenny and also because he knows no one is beating Lardo.

Ever.

Anything else is wishful thinking.

He casts a wistful look at Bitty, animated with his big win, and if Jack literally has his heart in his eyes until they’re out of sight, then only Chad L. from would have seen it.

Later on after the captains have said good night and some of their...guests have started staggering out, cheering for Samwell, for hockey, for tub juice, and for pie.

For this one, Bits really couldn’t take credit because Dex really made most of them, bless his heart.

Moving around the party-goers with a spare trash bag to pick up a bit, he spots someone sneaking upstairs, pauses to squint up in case he needs to charge on up there and firmly remind people the upstairs is off limits.

Or break out the fire extinguisher.

Either way.

...but he knows that ass in those jeans, and gasps softly as Jack’s plaid is bouncing up the steps ahead of Kenny.

And, he can let out a sigh, catch just a little bit of bittersweet. But, if there is anything Eric Richard Bittle prides himself on, it’s being a good friend. If Jack and Kenny needed a-a wingman or whatever, then he’s just going to dang well be that.

He keeps an eye on the stairs for the rest of the night for more than one reason. No one, no one, is going to disturb them when they’ve finally come this far, and even if he silently dreads it, hopes they at least used his room instead of a bathroom for heaven’s sake.

#check!please #wip #pimbits #eric bittle #jack zimmermann #kent parson #i'm going to hell #but i love this southern child #canon divergence #what if #that kiss at Jack's graduation didn't happen #but still #AHL!Bitty #eric x jack x kent #will eventually happen #work in progress #don't judge me #my fic #My writing

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c-atm · 5 years

Text

Flirty Fighting: Flawless Victory

Score: Biscuit 2 Berry 2

Steven couldn't think as Connie impishly closed the door to her room, telling him to wait for her downstairs. Steven nodded in dumbfounded agreement before turning towards the stairs, a simple thing.

Problem was he couldn't get a footing on the floor. He had to push wall to wall to move forward and even then..he literally couldn't get down stairs..So he floated in contemplation at the fact that Connie Maheswaran....Made him float instinctively.

"That little minx...That was sooo."

Steven growled and quiver, a rose quartz blush on his face as he licked his lips as the memory of what just happened pass through.

"Unfairly exciting."

*6 minutes ago.*

Steven had just pulled up in the Dondai into the Maheswarens driveway. Doug and Priyanka was gone for the month celebrating their wedding anniversary(’20 years strong’), so Connie had the place to herself...meaning more time to hang out alone....Meaning more time to tease her...He must admit he was on a kick since the blackout,

Seeing the indomitable Connie Maheswaren squirm so. The look in her eyes..those dazzling eyes..that bit lip, that seductive innocence. It was a rush for the usual nice guy to be dominant..especially to her, his strong willed and stubborn berry. His impish tease of a best friend. His super smart and usually cool Connie.

As he stood up he heard music playing from her room on the top floor, Connie’s room and recognized the song instantly as an english cover of ‘Love Dramatic.’

Oh love me Mister, Oh Mister

Let me hear how you feel, show that you're for real

Hey Mister, c'mon Mister

Stop the tease, make believe there's no need to be mean

The second thing he noticed with a smile was Connie was singing along..

‘She’s such a weeb..a sweet one though’

He chuckled as a plan formed with the thought..This was a perfect opportunity to start the visit with a tease...it was only right.

So with a slightly sinister smile The young man whipped out his smart phone and leapt to her window silently, ready to catch her...He set his phone to record.

and his face reddened..his mouth dried... his jaw dropped and lip quivered.

You won't know and won't tell how you drive me wild

(Your) Piercing gaze, charming smile is enough to tell

In this game played by two, I for sure will not lose

Love is war! Love is war! Love is war!

Connie Maheswaren, dressed in a forest string tee with a sea-foam frills across the chest that stopped just above her naval and baby blue mid thigh overalls that fit her like a glove, wasn’t just singing...She was giving a performance.

What a performance it was.

Let's dance til dawn hits and

Feel the heat of love and ecstasy

This ain't just a "thing"

Shivers go down your spine imagening

He watched as she twirled with her partner, a giant pink stuffed lion which she somehow got into one of his old red shirts, her hair flowing with each spin, each step she took, her voice in perfect tone with the song. It shook him through his heart and gem.

You'd be mine

Thinking ahead of time

That our future's looking bright, interwined in mind

How she dipped and tossed the toy around as she serenaded it. Each sway of her waist; rhythmic. Each twitch of her hips; mesmerizing. Her freed wild passion mixed with her natural body control,all in motion.

Eight whole words I want to hear from you

"I love you with all of my heart" ("I love you with all of my heart")

and I'll assure you that we won't fall apart

"You're unbelievable, Ni'."

His eyes widen as she looked straight at him and vice versa, the chorus playing in the background. His face grew even darker as he moved from his eyes from the phone.. and looked at the real thing..

He expected her to freeze, scream even.. or at least blush…

Once again Connie proved to be more than expected. Her eyes..those dazzling black eyes, were now burning not with anger, but with another feeling..one that sent shockwaves of excitement throughout his body, half-lidded as they were.

With teasing lick of her lips and a dangerous smirk, she stepped slowly one foot slightly crossing the other, accentuating her tone, strong, curves with each step, like a lioness in her den.

Mislead by interest, your charming act won't be enough pretend.

(It's) Both players intend: Getting their way 'til one of them will break

All while singing along, never missing a beat.

She got close enough to gently place the phone on her desk near her bed, pointing the camera towards the center of the room; catching the whole area.

There's no need, writing a "happy end"

'cus our love is so much more, and I wouldn't want it to end

She led him to the room center, her melodic voice and gentle movements putting him in a trance like state. Stroking his temple and chin as she lead him to the center of the room, in the camera sight.

I'll take all - even your deepest lies

Embrace me and hold me tight (Embrace me and hold me tight)

She hooked her left leg behind his thigh and his right hand at the curve of her back before leaned back pulling him down with her, their faces only a centimeter apart.

While I make sure your facade's breaking tonight

Oh love me Mister, Oh Mister

As the chorus began again she moved closer, to sing it straight in his ear. That plus the smell of lily and chai...Her scent...made his knees buckle for a second.

"YYYesss"

When I see you give in, I know that I could win

Hey Mister, c'mon Mister

There's much more 'hind this smile, yet I can't make out why

He didn't mean to say yes outloud, to answer the question so eagerly and readily, but he did. Luckily, it seemed that the music drowned out his submission.

You won't know and won't tell that I know you too well

Handsome face, blue-ish eyes, is your bulletproof disguise

She bit her lip and he was second from tasting her as well, before she released herself from his grasp and untangled him from her making a show of her long and well built her legs are. He actually whimpered just a bit as she turned away from him though was gulped when he found himself being led to the wall.

Draw me in, bet away let's see who's gonna win

Love is war! Love is war! Love is war!

"It's heartshaped. "

He blushed red as realize what he just said and what he was referring to. He moved his eyes upwards and saw her grinning mischievously before placing him between said wall and her back.

He trembled, trying to catch his breath and stop the heart attack he felt he was going on a she placed his hands between her waist and upper thigh, making him tap to the beat of the song. Her right foot on the wall keeping them in place.

When will you ever let me see

that you're feeling the same as me

Hear me out, I can't take it anymore

I'm begging you

She on the other hand swayed her hips, waved her body, slightly rubbing against him with her movements..but enough to realize she melted..and harden him. As she sang the bridge with a breathy almost purr like tone in his ear, emitting a snarl from her beastly Biscuit. as she played with his locks a bit, she gave him a slight nerve tingling blow upon his neck making him growl and pressing her against himself.

"Woo.. can I just live here.You,me and this wall behind us?"

His delirious request made her giggle heartedly and it was the perfect signal to end the performance on.

Please love me~

Oh love me Mister, Oh Mister

Let me hear how you feel, show that you're for real

Hey Mister, c'mon Mister

Tell me please, make believe, show me we're meant to be

She turned towards him and stared guiding him to the floor, sitting him down before straddling his lap. arms around shoulders, lips just an inch a part.

I'll give in just for you - I won't hold back this time

(Your) Gentle lips, teasing eyes make me weak for a while

In this game played by two, I doubt that you would lose

Love is war! Love is war! Love is war!

As she sang the song seductively and adorably, Steven found him hands resting on to her thighs and nothing else. He was entranced by her to do nothing but follow her lead..

Love is war! Love is war! Love is war!

When she kissed his forehead, he smiled.

Love is war! Love is war! Love is war!

His nose..He smiled..

Oh Mister~ Oh Mister~

When she moved to his lips giving him a hungry look, he parted his and closed his eyes in anticipation… only to feel her fingertips.

"Songs over."

Steven mind shutdown as she removed her fingers from his lips..and kissed them. She slowly and teasingly stood up before helping her bae-friend to his feet and holding his hands downward as she gave him his phone(after tinkering with a bit) and lead him out of her room as gently as possible. Steven, finally getting his motor function back, turned around only to meet her finger tips.

"I'll be with you soon, try to handle that...You've been floating since verse two."

Steven looked down and realized that he indeed wasn't on solid ground.. He was about to say something, when she did something unexpected. .. she gave him a quick peck on his lips and a teasing lick, getting a reaction out of him..floating a bit higher..

"We can discuss living arrangements some other time, 'Mister'. Now go wait downstairs. let me freshen up."

With that she closed the door on him."

*Present*

" Sheesh, She definitely beat me, flawlessly. I couldn't even mount a defense. "

He floated as a smile cane his face. He lost but damn it feel good to lose. That when he heard his phone vibrate. He opened his phone and almost hit the ceiling...literally.

Two photos: One with her blowing on his neck..which looked more like she was necking with the tagline: love you too mister😄

The second one was a picture she took of herself still in her outfit her back to the mirror slightly bent over looking over her shoulder with the tagline: Officially Heart Shaped(for your eyes only Biscut)😉😘😎

Steven snarled as he saved the pictures before a smirking. He floated in thought as he tried to think of a plan to get her back...but all he could think about is what happened..and if he was honest. his he loved it. Soon those thoughts went from making Connie melt and squirm to making Connie his, Indefinitely.

Score Biscuit: 2 Berry:3

Bonus:

As she closed the door on her Jam bud, she slowly slumped to the floor..a brilliant smile on her red face.. She was in love and she loved it.

She love it. All of it.

She love dancing with him, always did even when they were more innocent and he was less bold and she loved her body less...but that..

That...having him all to herself like that. Having him touch her like that, look at her like that it was too much if he took control for a second...She would have slumped, given in fully. She will never forget this...the mixture of wanting and loving in his eyes...The beach sand smell of his sweat...the feel of his hands, his body on hers…

“Oh my stars, I did THAT to him.”

She couldn’t help but feel proud..and a little worry that maybe she took it to far.

Until she heard him call her a minx...Which meant that despite everything..He was still all in. She stood up and pulled down her overall straps when she saw herself in the mirror, her stance and the seats of the overalls

“Heart shaped.”

That what Steven called it..Her butt. Her face flared at the thought but so did her mischievous side as she got her phone and took the picture.

“Extra points.”

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some-mad-lunge · 5 years

Text

The Last Goodbye

It was the third time Alex has had to pick Maria up off the floor behind the bar, sober her up and tuck her into bed. Each time she cries a part of him understands and part of him, well it hates her doesn’t it? Still if anyone knows the damage Michael Guerin can do to the heart it’s Alex Manes. So he buries it, digs it deep under all the rest of the shit labeled “for another day” and waits until he hears her soft snore before he lets himself leave.

He knows she’ll be okay. Tonight had been more about her mother than anything else. Guerin was just something she called a mistake, always giving Alex a look like she can’t believe he still talks to her. It had been hard at first, he couldn’t pretend otherwise. Still the heart wants what it wants, how many times had he yelled that at his father? How many times had he swore he would never be ashamed to follow where it led? How could he deny anyone else that same simple freedom?

And Maria, she’s amazing isn’t she. Strong and fierce, uncomplicated as a person can be. He envied her, sleeping off the pain of what she was losing, something Alex has never had to begin with.

He thought he’d had family once, put all his hope in one person, still did. Only now that person was himself.

The irony is that Maria had been the one to end it. The alien secret had come out too soon in whatever Maria and Michael were trying to be for her to see anything else. She’d been livid at them all for keeping it from her but maybe they’d all known, deep down, how she’d react. Even for someone with a mystical mind and a soft heart it was a lot to take. Again, Alex understood how she felt, and that just made it all the more difficult when he saw Michael’s truck in his driveway.

He gripped his steering wheel tight between his fingers. He’d known eventually Michael would come but he’d hoped it wouldn’t be on a night like tonight. Not when Alex was beyond weary of being the strong one, he was tired of breaking his own heart.

Of course Guerin looked beautiful, stained shirt and snug jeans, leaning on Alex’s porch railing like he’s supposed to be there. Maybe once upon a time, but not anymore. Always that teenage dream, the one that Alex never woke up from.

His leg ached, too much carrying Maria around and he can’t hide the slight limp as he makes his way up his front step. Michael notices and the pressure lessens instantly. Alex is too tired to be anything but thankful, walking through his front door and switching on the lights. He heads to the fridge to grab two beers, he knows Guerin will follow.

“Your door was unlocked this whole time?” It’s a low whisper, and Alex let’s it wash over him just one last time. Then he hardens his face as he turns, a bottle in his outstretched hand.

“Anyone who wanted in would find a way.” He knows there’s an edge to his voice, Michael wincing slightly before taking the offered beer. They both know any other time before Alex would have found him on the couch, feet up on the coffee table. Always trying to prove to Alex he had nowhere to hide, that he couldn’t run from them.

So he steps back, needing the space to be rational and the support of the counter to lean against. He’s just so weary of it all but if they’re going to do this best to get it done.

“I was trying to be respectful.”

“First time for everything. Why are you here, Guerin?” It’s a stupid question to ask, they both know the answer but Alex stopped believing he understood them a long time ago. Stopped assuming he knew what Michael meant when he opened his mouth.

“You know why.” Michael takes a swig of his beer, hand coming up to run threw his curls. It makes Alex’s fingers twitch, sense memory, another phantom limb.

“Yeah, well I’m going to need you to say it.” After Caulfield Alex had been nothing but honest, can’t have anymore space for misunderstandings. If Guerin chose to disbelieve, that was on him wasn’t it?

“You know why I had to try, with Maria…”

It takes everything Alex has left to meet Guerin’s eyes, he sees pain and want and a life that he’s not allowed to have anymore.

Yeah, he kind of hates them both, the two people he’s only ever loved more than anything.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

“Are you?”

Alex can’t help the spiteful laugh that bubbles out, slams his bottle on the counter as he braces his arms against it.

“Yeah, I am. I don’t like seeing the people I care about hurting. I’m sure that must come as a surprise.” In all of this that’s the most confusing part, watching Maria lose something she thought was real before it began. Seeing Michael’s chance at “normal” blow up in his face because of something he can’t control. None of them asked for this, Alex included.

The silence is defining, he can literally feel Michael’s need flowing through the room. He resents it because he feels it too. He’s accepted it, Michael just needs to catch up.

“Look, Guerin I’m tired. Really fucking tired, so if you could just say…”

“I love you.”

There it is, what they both know, have always known. Once again, it just doesn’t change anything. Alex remembers when he thought it did, when he believed it could.

“I know.”

Michael moves like he’s coming to him and Alex shakes his head firmly, stops him in his tracks.

“I told you, I told you there was no going back from this.” He had, when he’d seen Michael’s healed hand holding Maria’s across the bar, when he’d searched him out to tell him about Max.

He’d tucked it away until later, when the dust had settled and they had a moment alone. Told him he wished them both happy, the words sour in his mouth. If someone was going to throw him away, at least it had been for his favourite human.

“And I told you I needed to try, I had to know if I could feel anything for anyone else. And I could, and I did, but it didn’t compare. You have to know…”

“You need to leave.” For all of his bravado Alex doesn’t want to do this, he doesn’t want to be who he is, doesn’t want to do what he knows he has to do so he can sleep at night.

“You don’t mean that.” There’s a wonder to Michael’s voice, a pleading in his eyes that almost breaks Alex’s resolve. Almost has him believing that nothing else will matter if he just has his arms around the man he loves.

Life isn’t a romance novel, and Alex doesn’t get to have those things. At least his Dad has been right about that.

“It’s why I wished you and Maria had worked out after all, hell you still might. At least then you didn’t throw us away for nothing.” He realizes he needs to be cruel, logic never worked on Guerin. He has a heart to break, and this time it’s not his own.

“Alex, please.”

“You could have picked anyone else, Guerin. Anyone. But you chose her and I get it, she’s amazing. She’s sunshine and joy, uncomplicated and special. That’s why she’s my best friend. That’s why I have spent everyday since trying to kill every piece of what I feel for you. Every damn hold you have on me. I love you, I always have, I probably always will. But us, this, whatever we were holding onto, we let go. Here. Now. I won’t do that to her, I can’t.” He knows there’s unshed tears in his eyes, he knows if Michael dared to reach for him he wouldn’t be turned away.

“She’s the one that ended it.” Maybe to Guerin that’s what this is all about. Maybe it’s got nothing to do with Alex. Part of him wants to believe it, pretend this is some trick to hurt Maria like she hurt Michael, but he knows it’s not. It’s them, it’s what they do to each other. This constant give and take, mostly Alex and his selfish taking. He doesn’t want to be that person, not anymore.

So he does it, he keeps going, it’s the only move he has anymore.

“And you ended us. It’s what you wanted. Own it. Embrace it. Find your normal and easy, get out from underneath the mess we made.”

“I fucked up, I was confused and I just wanted…”

Alex cuts him off, plays the ace that will be the final note to their sad love song.

“Look away.”

Alex knows he’ll never forget the pained expression on Michael’s gorgeous face. He’ll never forget how it took every ounce of strength he had to not let his knees buckle in that moment.

He loves him, it’s so deep inside, so rooted that Alex can’t imagine it being my other way. Michael deserves his normal, and maybe it wasn’t with Maria but it’ll be with someone else. Someone whole and hopefully worthy. Someone who doesn’t lay awake most nights with regret flickering like a flame behind his eyes. Someone who didn’t break Michael over and over again, someone who won’t keep doing it.

“No.”

A beer bottle smashes to the floor, strong warm hands are pulling at his face before he can blink. Fingers curling into his neck, noses brushing, and Alex can’t stop the painful ache as his heart thuds in his chest.

“Don’t ask that of me, anything else Manes. Not that.”

He can’t help himself, he’s weak and tired, it’s too easy to tip his mouth right where he wants it. It’s soft and remorseful, he puts everything he wishes he could take back into that kiss. This, it’s got to be the last goodbye, for both of them.

Guerin must sense it, because he holds on tighter, molds his body into Alex’s, tries to lock them into place. For a moment, he pretends this is what it could be like. No more secrets, no more lies, no more games. Just Alex and Michael, two people who found each other because that was the way it was supposed to be.

Finally he lets go of the vice grip he has on the arms that hold him and pushes the warm body away.

“Michael…”

“No, not this time. You have to stop running from me.” Fingers slide out of his hair, he’s not sure he’s ever felt so cold in his life.

“I stopped running months ago.” Alex side steps around him, avoids the broken glass and foamed beer on the floor, opens the door. Michael’s eyes flick between the waiting night sky and Alex’s face.

“Then why?” Alex hangs his head, pinches the bridge of his nose to try and stop the tears that will give him away.

“I’m not what you want, Guerin, not really. Maybe it’s the chase, maybe I’m the excuse you use to stay where you are. But you can be more, you can have more and you realized it. This is just a blip. You’ll wake up tomorrow and remember why you chose differently when you could.”

“And what, finally have a day where I don’t feel like I’m falling apart without you? Tell me Alex, tell me how to do it? I’ve tried, I’ve fucking tried and it doesn’t work. Tell me how to run like you do.” It burns, those words, because the truth hurts, every damn time.

“You put one foot in front of the other as you walk out this door.” Alex smiled at him then, he hopes it’s cruel, he hopes it slices and severs. He hopes it sets Guerin free.

Those eyes widen, lips curl in disgust, boots crunching glass as Michael walks past Alex. He smells of sweat and oil, Alex breathes it in deep, a memory to lock away. He can’t bring himself to look, waits until the headlights fade and the tires squeal off in the distance before he pulls out his phone.

He knows Guerin, he knows he’ll be back. He’s the strong one. He’ll keep fighting, he always does. Alex was the only one weak enough to run away, so we would, again. Only this time he won’t make the mistake of coming back. He owes Michael that much.

#roswell new mexico #fan fiction #malex #alex and michael #Alex manes #michael guerin #shauna's roswell fic #angst because it's what I feel #sorry for spelling #and whatever else this is #long ass post

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phan-of-the-pen · 5 years

Text

I Dare You To Stay: Chapter 15

After like 6 months I’m back! Sorry about the wait you guys, but I put out three PBB fics in that period, wrote two new chapters for this fic, and balanced my own crazy life. Thank you for your patience, updates will resume normally! Enjoy!

Tags for chapter: fluff, vvv minor angst

Words for chapter: ~2.7

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

<– Previous chapter Next chapter -->

~~~~~~~~~~

Dan stepped through the front doors into the lobby. It was small and had basic furniture that looked as if it had come from the same dull color scheme, but Dan didn't really mind. He wouldn't be here very long.

A tired secretary looked up at him as he entered, but when Dan settled in one of the seats in front of the television, she looked back down at her paperwork, a frown still on her face.

Dan looked up at the TV and smiled wide. It was on the same channel that the weather station aired, and on it Phil was grinning and relaying the temperatures for the day and how the sun for once would be shining for most of the afternoon.

Dan sat and watched the whole time Phil was on, a goofy smile on his face. When the angle switched to the news anchors, Dan's attention drifted to his phone, where he scrolled through twitter for a little. Now that Phil wasn't on the live broadcast he'd be in a separate room, recording a few different takes of a handful of different weather broadcasts that the station could air later in the day, depending on which of their predictions were correct. And since Phil was here as an employee and not an intern today, as soon as he was done, they could leave.

They'd been dating for a few weeks at this point, and with Dan's workaholic schedule and Phil's two jobs, most time between them had been lunch breaks and an impromptu sleepover, or a few hours together of kissing and movies and video games before reality once again rained on their parade. Today however, Dan was off due to the shop being closed so it could get some of its appliances replaced, and Phil had his whole day off as well minus his morning broadcast. They were planning on spending it together and to shop and wander around Manchester as it rapidly neared the holiday season.

Dan thought that a day just for the two of them was long overdue.

A few people came and went while Dan was sitting there, and he eventually stopped looking up so hopefully since every time he only got a stranger returning his excitement with a look of bewilderment at Dan's gaze. And besides, had he gotten a little caught up in scrolling through the various threads? Maybe. Had he gotten comfortable in his seat and popped his earbuds in? Possibly. Did Phil ever give him a ball-park time as to when he would be done? No. So he really had no business materializing out of nowhere and hooking a finger under Dan's chin, tilting his head up and kissing him in greeting. Dan's legs just went jelly even though he wasn't standing, and his thoughts flatlined.

"Uh," Dan said eloquently when Phil pulled back. Phil laughed and helped Dan up.

"Hello to you too. I'm all done by the way—are you ready to get out of here? I distinctly remember planning a whole day together with my boyfriend."

Dan managed something between a breathy "yeah" and "of course" and let Phil grab his hand, leading him outside dumbly, still overwhelmed with how easily this cliche bastard could knock all of the breath out of his lungs. He simultaneously hoped that he would eventually get used to it—becoming a stuttering mess was highly inconvenient at times—and also never wanted that feeling of devotion to go away.

The sun was surprisingly warm for early December, and the sky was clearer than Dan had seen it in an awfully long time. Topped with all of the Christmas decorations around and nestled into Phil's side, their hands threaded, Dan really couldn't imagine a better way of spending his day off.

Their first stop was Starbucks—a Dan and Phil tradition. They'd gone to a Starbucks for their first "date" on one of Dan's lunch breaks, and ever since, they'd hit it a half a dozen times together in the several weeks of their relationship.

Phil ordered while Dan snagged them a table in the corner. He returned however, with a horrendous amount of foam on his coffee and a simple protest of "it's flavored leave me alone." Phil then proceeded to take a huge sip, leaving a hefty foam mustache on his upper lip. Dan laughed hysterically and couldn't help but snap a picture of Phil's adorable pout, sending it to Jaime after saving it to his phone. He was surprised when his phone beeped almost right away. She was down in London today working on the play, and it was too early for her to be on her lunch break already.

>> From: my maraschino cherry look at you two and ur coffee dates ur sickening

also

how much foam did he ask for that man is living in a world w/o god

>> To: my maraschino cherry too much. the answer is too much

"Is that Jaime? You two aren't conspiring against me again, are you?"

Dan snorted and took a sip of his own coffee (with a normal amount of foam, thank you very much).

"If you count conspiring as us dragging you for the sheer amount of foam on that coffee, then yes, absolutely."

"Hey! Unlike you, I refuse to be subjected to society's standards as to what is acceptable with coffee. Besides, what do you know? My coffee is fantastic."

"Some lines just shouldn't be crossed, mate, and a gallon of foam is one of them. And you're forgetting—I literally make coffee for a living. I think I have the right to judge." Dan said, rolling his eyes in the fondest way possible. Phil grumbled as if he was annoyed, but Dan could tell that he didn't really mean it.

Dan leaned back against the chair and watched Phil as he used the front camera on his phone to make sure he wiped away all of the foam from the top of his lip. Was that creepy? Maybe. But Dan just couldn't keep his eyes off of Phil, as cliche as it was. Phil was just Phil—Dan couldn't ignore him if he tried.

"What, did I miss some of it?" Phil asked, already pulling his phone back out of his pocket. Dan grabbed his hand to stop the movement.

"No, you spork, you didn't." Dan said softly.

Phil's face brightened and a sly smile spread across his face. "So," he drawled, "whatcha looking at then?"

Dan let his thumb flitter over the tops of Phil's knuckles before answering.

"A dork."

"Hey!"

Dan cackled as Phil crossed his arms and pouted. He started whining about how Dan was being a "terrible boyfriend" and "first the foam now this," and he was being so ridiculous that Dan only laughed harder. Phil just kept going though, and Dan tried to shush him in between giggles, but to no avail.

What an absolute fucking nerd, Dan thought as he gave up trying to stop Phil with words and instead pulled him forward into a kiss. Dan was still trying to control his laughter so he wasn't even really kissing properly and pretty much just smiling against Phil's mouth, but it worked perfectly. Phil shut up instantly and kissed back. His arm snaked around Dan's waist loosely, but it still sent a tingle up Dan's spine anyways.

Dan pulled back a little, his cheeks aching from laughing. "Hey."

"No no, come back here." Phil dragged Dan right back to his side, and this time the kiss was a proper one. When Phil let go of him Dan knew his cheeks were dusted pink, and in his own opinion the blush probably matched the warm feeling in his chest.

Phil hummed, smiling softly down at Dan. "Cute."

Dan rolled his eyes, but they both knew that didn't mean anything.

After they finished their coffees, they wandered out into the city. Earlier in the week they had planned out all of the stores they had wanted to visit, but things ended up taking longer than expected because they couldn't stop themselves from walking into every building that had something that caught their eye. With all of the extra stops, the shopping trip had to be split in half by lunch. Dan didn't mind though. A nice lunch in a little corner cafe with Phil was a pleasant and welcomed surprise.

Dan found his Christmas present for Jaime, and nearly bought one for Phil as well. The only thing that stopped Dan from buying the galaxy jumper was the fact that it was about twice as much as Dan's already small and strained budget.

It was nearing the evening when they stepped through the threshold of Phil's apartment. The day had been incredibly fun, and Dan didn't even mind that he was tired from all of the walking that they had done, or that the tip of his nose was near froze from the cold air.

Dan dropped the bags in his hands down onto the floor next to Phil's. He reached back up for the zipper on his coat, but Phil's hands batted it out of the way. Surprised, Dan raised an eyebrow at Phil, but it went unaddressed by the older man. Phil slipped the coat from Dan's shoulders and hung it up.

"Why don't you go pick out a movie, Dan? I'm in a bit of a mood for popcorn and snuggling under a blanket."

He retreated back to the lounge, the faint blush on his cheeks from Phil taking his coat off for him dissipating. It had been domestic and Dan enjoyed being taken care of, shoot him.

Dan settled on a bit of a classic and popped it into the DVD player. Behind him he could hear Phil starting the microwave, and even though they had ate not that long ago, Dan's stomach grumbled at the smell of the butter. Dan pulled one of the many blankets Phil had off of the back of the couch and wrapped it around him. He left half of it off to the side for Phil.

"You can start it! I'll be right in."

The opening credits of The Shawshank Redemption had finished playing by the time Phil surfaced, but it was with a large bowl of popcorn and accompanying sweets, which made up for lost cuddle time in Dan's mind.

A few moments later Phil was settled under the blanket, pressed next to Dan. The snacks were in a pile on their laps, and they frequently snuck a hand out from under the blanket to munch on them.

The movie was one of Dan's favorites, and he decided that watching it with Phil's body curled around his, tucked away in their little corner of the world, made it even better.

Phil had also never seen the movie before, and Dan had brought his own copy of it over ages ago with the intention of watching it. Unfortunately, they had never gotten the chance to until now, but it was hardly an issue. Dan enjoyed Phil's gasps of surprise, and his frantic panic towards the end of the movie when things were hitting the climax. When the screen faded to the end credits, Phil's jaw was dropped, shock on his face.

"I'll take it you enjoyed it?" Dan asked, a smiling. Phil stared at the television for another moment before snapping to attention.

"Like it? Dan, that was one of the coolest movies I've ever seen. And it's based off of a book, you said? God, I need to read it, oh my gosh." Phil continued rambling about his favorite parts, and he talked about his thought process through the movie. "I swear I thought Andy was guilty! But then he got some proof that he wasn’t, and they shot the guy!"

"Yep. Really makes you think, huh?"

Phil laughed.

"Yeah, it does."

Dan smiled, happy that Phil had enjoyed something that Dan loved. He pecked Phil's lips with his own before mustering the willpower to scoot out of their little blanket cocoon.

"Can you take it out of the DVD player? I'll take care of our scraps."

Phil was still smiling softly at him, and the look was making Dan's insides feel all warm and gooey. Not that long ago that would have terrified him, but now it just made Dan's grin go wider.

He quickly washed the bowl to get the butter off of the sides and put it back in Phil's cabinet. Before he left he shut the rest of Phil's cabinet doors, rolling his eyes. Phil could look at a bunch of nonsense numbers and measurements and predict the weather, but the man couldn't bother himself to close a cabinet door.

Dan walked back into the lounge, ready to tease Phil about it, but stopped when he found him standing next to the couch, reading something on his phone. His eyebrows were crinkled and the corners of his mouth were turned down in something between a frown and a grimace. The expression caused the joke on Dan's lips to wither, and for a moment Dan just stood there, watching Phil. He didn't seem to know that Dan was back in the room.

"Is everything alright?"

Phil jumped at Dan's voice shattering the silence, and slipped his phone back into his pocket. The small smile plastered on Phil's face was fake, and Dan could tell that Phil was trying to figure out what to say.

"Yeah, it's just an email from work."

"Tesco emailed you?"

"No, the weatherstation."

"Oh." Dan didn't know if he should keep pushing, but when he thought about the frown on Phil's face just a little bit ago and how his shoulders were curled in anxiety, Dan's resolution hardened. He knew first hand what something negative could do if it was allowed to fester, and he didn't want that to happen to Phil. "Was it something bad?"

"No, not really." Phil said, his fingers sliding into his pockets. Dan couldn't help but frown at that. Phil stuck his hands in his pockets when he was uncomfortable. Was Dan making him feel like that? "My schedule just got changed up a bit. I'm going to have to ring Tesco to have them adjust my shifts so none of them overlap."

Dan nodded, but there was no doubt in his mind that Phil wasn't telling the truth. Another glance at Phil's hands in his pockets held back Dan's tongue, however. He didn't want to make Phil uncomfortable or anxious.

Dan decided to drop the subject, but he didn't let his suspicions fall.

"Did you want to call them now? I can step back into the kitchen if you want?"

"No!" Phil said, his arms flinching like he wanted to move them, but decided not to at the last minute. "It's fine, I promise. I'll call them in the morning—I don't think anybody would pick up, anyways. Come on, it's my turn to pick a movie."

Phil gave Dan one last strained smile before turning all of his attention to the shelf of movies he owned. Dan was still frowning, worried about what had really been on Phil's phone, and even more worried about Phil, but he didn't say anything. Dan didn't think that Phil really looked at the selection and more-or-less just popped a random disc into the DVD player. After pressing play, Phil caught Dan's wrists and pulled him to the sofa. They settled back under the blanket, but this time Phil was holding Dan against his chest, his arms wrapped around Dan to keep him close. He pressed a soft kiss to Dan's temple.

"Relax, everything's fine, I promise."

It didn't do much to ease Dan's thoughts, but he did relax his body, as well as tuck his worried thoughts away to deal with later. For now, he just wanted to enjoy this time with Phil.

#my fics #allyssaTM #phan #phanfiction #i dare you to stay #fluff #au #i dare you to stay: chapter 15 #idyts #vvvvvv minor angst #dan howell #phil lester #phanfic

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secreto-draco · 6 years

Text

gert centric fic ,with hints of gertchase, exploring a bit of gert’s pan sexuality and early friendship with karolina. and also there’s molly.

fair warning people;

1) gert is Jewish Latina cause the actress who plays her, Ariela Barer is latina and jewish.

2) spanish is my 2nd language,and i have lived in a country,Chile-south america for 7 years,it’s been a bit over a month being back in the USA,so i speak castaño-meaning basic universal Spanish,with hints of Chilean slang,moreover my spanish grammar ins’t perfect so bear with me.

3) i’ve left the ending open-so i could write one more chapter from either or both gert’s and chases’ view -let me know if i should.

4) the time is kinda altered here-the astronomy project occurs a bit after Amy's death.

p.s shout out to @carolruwer who agreed to be beta.thank you so much :)

ill get out of your hair now;

It’s her 7th birthday, all the invitations clearly stated so, even the banner hanging overhead and the icing on the cake. But once again the father -daughter duo that is, Frank and Karolina dean have stolen the show. It shouldn’t bother her- she doesn’t like being on being in the spotlight anyways (it makes her anxious, kind of like her head’s underwater) and quite frankly [pun intended] it’s the norm. People and yes including, Gert Yorkes herself, can’t help but turn to Karolina when she floats in, she’s ethereal like a fairy or an angel or some being of light.

Yet Gert can’t help feeling bitter and invisible, even with a giant piece of cake on her plate that spells out her name in bold lilac icing, and a table set to the side holding gifts with tags that literally say,’’Happy Birthday Gertrude’’. Because right now, sitting on the edge of a circle with all her classmates, who only engage conversation and play with Karolina moreover, even the mothers who are supposed to be over with all the ‘’superficialness’’ and are supposed to be mature and nice to everyone, only happen to ‘’pop in’’ under guise of parental checking just to compliment karo, always with; ‘you look beautiful.’’ ,’’so sweet’’.

What is worse, is that after complimenting karo, they don’t stop to wish her a ‘’happy birthday’ they don’t even glance her way, instead choosing to go off to Frank Dean to loudly (seriously ladies chill) proclaim and shower him with compliments for his daughter; precious and remarkable. And to tell him that he’ll need to keep an eye out for boys, especially ‘’that chase stein.’’.

it burns her all the way down, fills her to the brim with shame, makes her cheeks red with embarrassment and her eyes sting with frustration and hurt. This party was a bad idea. She just wants it to be over, so everyone can leave, but unfortunately; there are games to play and ice cream to devour. So, it would take at least a few more hours till sweet solitude.

Amy and alex had left earlier to go inside to play video games in the living room, Karo is surrounded by her adoring ‘’public’’ alongside best friend Nico, Chase seems to be engaged with some of the boys playing soccer. Molly’s snacking on chips and pizza. Her parents are offering everyone their homemade cheese and joking around. Contemplating, maybe she could just slip up into her room to read, it’s not like anyone would notice plus she’s sad and bored, but just as she’ heading in,

‘‘hey Gert, you get the first try at the piñata. ’it’s chase, tone playful and boyish. Turning to him, she doesn’t fail to see his furrowed brows or his line of site. Chase, it seems, whilst clueless to her plan; has not failed to notice her on her own, or that currently, Gert is halfway inside through the patio door. He gestures to the bat he’s holding out to her, bringing a smile to her face. Giddy, she rushes off to make it rain candy.

Much later though, various parents gather them around for pictures and Gert’s perking up a bit, at least until she hears;

‘’Karolina, dear come stand next to Gertrude, you’re barely in the picture.”

Followed by;

“Karolina.come quick! I want to take a picture of you with the rest of your friends, you look beautiful in that dress of yours.’’

Standing next to Karolina who is glowing more than usual: flushed cheeks and shiny eyes from playing and laughing, not a single hair out of place and in a still crinkle-free baby pink dress and spotless white ballet flats, Gert feels less, in her army green shorts and purple blouse and old boots, long hair knotted and tangled, cheek scrapped. Rubbing salt to the wound is that, every picture taken focuses on Karolina. And the person who she feels closest too, her best friend, Chase looks just perfect on the left side of said blond blue-eyed girl, both beautiful and flawless; seeming to fit together.

In the end, though, just before leaving, Chase drags his mom over to take a picture with his best friend and birthday girl, his proclamation making Gert’s cheeks warm; and Molly, appearing out of nowhere jumps on her back and sings, terribly off-key’ happy birthday’-and quite loudly , in her ear, just as Mrs. Stein clicks on the camera.

She may be invisible to the world, but Gertrude Yorkes has her parents and Molly and Chase, they always see her.

2012

The ear-splitting bell had just released them from class and rushing out to meet the others in their usual corner in the playground.

‘‘Hey Gert, hold on a sec.” she barely hears him, but she stops. He’s short, a brown-haired kid with a combo of a weird smirk and smile;

With a rushed out ‘‘Hey thanks, ’ he starts walking with .Strange as it is, it’s also kind of nice, especially because everyone only talk to her just to ask her about-

‘‘So, you’re friends with Karolina?”. Of course. There is such a eagerness in his voice, making it obvious that he can’t play it cool.

‘‘Yeah”. She knows she’s being curt, but Gertrude Yokes doesn’t care.

‘‘And Chase, too? ’he keeps prodding.

‘‘Ye-’‘’

‘‘Do they, you know, like each other? Because I was thinking of asking Karolina to be my Valentine. And I want to know beforehand if she likes Chase or anyone else. I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes or cause any problem” he’s being so boyishly nice and bashful and sweet. Damn Karo.

No, I don’t know. And we’re eleven, we’re kids so we don’t normally talk about this stuff.’’ It comes out of her mouth in a rush, like strong waves crashing forcefully and loudly on the beach and the foam that’s left behind, dirty in the sand, gross and icky, is her embarrassment when she realizes what she said and how she said it.

‘‘bye, nicetalkingtoyou!” rushing the words out she power walks over to her friends, who are goofing off, Gert tries to ignore the burning in her heart and the way her blood is sluggish and cold.

Two weeks later, her card box only has 6 “Happy Valentine” friend cards, one from each of her friends: Molly, Chase, Nico, Karolina, Amy and Alex.

‘‘Molly asked me to put hers in for everyone, because she wasn’t allowed to come in and do it herself” says Chase, with a shy voice carrying a similar box, except his is full. She smiles in response.

*Whistles* ‘’Damn Karolina, did the whole school give you a card?” and her smile drops, Karolina’s got two boxes, bursting at the seams, Nico next to her, has a full box as well. Her eyes land on Alex and she feels better and a bit of kinship: they’re both in the same boat.

‘‘You need help there, Alex? ’voice playful and laced with sarcasm, she tosses in a wink.

‘‘You got your hands full, Gert. Doubt you could help me with mine.” He answers with a wink back. Self-deprecating humor for the win!

‘‘Let’s head out, whose place are we hanging out this time? ’asks Chase, his voice strained, sharp and heavy.

huh. Weird.

2012

She’s arguing with some jerk, he calls her a bitch. And just as she’s about to respond it’s Karolina that’s softly, yet firmly, tells him to watch his mouth and to leave. It surprises her. For the rest of the day she keeps talking with Karo, hanging out and it’s nice. She’s sweet, sometimes sickeningly so, but she treats her with respect and talks to her even when it’s just the two of them.

Two days later, though, Karolina starts acting weird. They’re in Alex’s game room, their usual afterschool hangout, and the seven of them are making plans for the weekend. Gert proposes to watch a scary movie at the movie theater.

Karo and Nico share a glace and look at her weirdly, then Karolina says:

‘‘Gert” voice stern and tone chastising it doesn’t suit her, Nico, sure, but not Karo, who adds:

‘‘If you don’t want to go to the sleepover it’s fine, but don’t just assume we won’t go either’ ‘

‘’What sleepover?’’ asks Gert curtly.

‘‘Don’t play dumb. Eiffel’s slumber party, she’d invited all the girls in our class, back on Monday.’‘

‘‘I wasn’t invited” even though her voice is steady, she can feel the humiliation staining her cheeks and shame settling on her shoulders. ‘‘I didn’t even know.”

‘‘oh….Gert I’m sor-“ starts to say Karolina, but Gert’s quick to stop her:

‘‘It doesn’t matter, though it seems like you and Nico won’t be able to hang out with the rest of us.” Then turning to the others; voice strained and forcefully cheerful; “So, what’s the plan kids?’‘

That weekend Alex has an online video game thing, Chase has a lacrosse away match and Amy has a school project. So, she and Molly have their own sisterly sleepover. It is awesome, fun and cozy.

2 months later;

Her friendship with Karolina has always been rocky. Karo’s a mama’s girl, the perfect girl, ethereal and nice. On the other hand, Gert is... well she’s Gert. They’re both too different, besides what friendship doesn’t have its patchy moments and difficulties. And moreover, it must be difficult for Karo to get along with her too. So, Gert tries, but things don’t always go smoothly.

Karolina usually has church things to go to, to be a face for it or just support her mother, but it comes in the way of their friendship a lot, mainly when Gert’s inviting her and the others to things, because if Karolina can’t come, then automatically no one ‘’can’’ come to her thing, whatever it may be. She tries not to feel snubbed and bitter, furthermore, her stance on religion doesn’t help, it usually just adds to the tension. Other times, it’s their differing personalities like now;

There’s a garage band that she hears off in the neighborhood which she wants to check out, but Alex isn’t into it, neither is Karo because, as she puts it, “loud angry music” is not something she’s into. She tries not to be offended or too sensitive about it and, ‘’luckily,’’ within seconds Chase is butting in offering up his plan. He does that a lot. He can’t side with either Gert or Karo so he always ignores the issue and friction at hand and proceeds to move the attention to something else. It bothers her that her best friend won’t stick up for her, especially when it’s against Karolina.

They end up hitting the Arcade and going for ice cream, Chase’s suggestion. And when she gets her period midway through, it’s Karolina who helps; handing her a pad and loaning her an extra pair of gym shorts. Coming out of the bathroom, she shoots a thankful little secret smile to Karo, who returns it with a soft one of her own. And that little secret makes things a little bit better between the two of them.

2014

Getting to take music lessons is a fun 13th birthday present from mom and dad. And even though Gert knows without a shadow of a doubt that she really likes chase. There’s this girl who sits next to her with piel morena y pelo negro. She has shining black eyes that light up when she’s being mischievous and sparkle when she smiles. She is beautiful, but not the angelic kind like Karolina, her beauty has a sharp edge and ruggedness to it, as does her wit, which can cut you in half. Valentina is also kind and sweet and mischievous, a bit of a trouble maker. She and Gert start to hang out a bit after class and, within a few weeks, Valentina is a regular visitor at the Yorkes’ household.

For Gert it’s refreshing to have a friend outside of her usual group of friends and even outside of her school circle. More importantly, having becoming friends with Vale boosts her confidence, even though it shouldn’t. Now, when all her friends within the “pride group” have their own thing, she doesn’t feel pathetic anymore as she’s no longer alone when they’re all busy.

When with the group she doesn’t feel out of place because she now has a friend to share certain interests with. Her research on feminism, for example. Her parents are feminists so hearing them talk openly about stuff is liberating and researching and learning has opened her mind and she feels she is a better person because of it. And nowadays, thanks to being able to share this with Valentina, she doesn’t have to nervously ramble about it with her disinterested friends. She doesn’t need to ask them to go with her to check out indie bands or to join marches, she has her parents, Molly and Vale for all of that.

A month into their friendship, she and Valentina have shared a kiss somehow,someway and in the end the details don’t matter, what is important is that it feels good. It’s different from kissing Chase, who was her first kiss when they were 12, they’d both wanted their first kisses to be safe and with someone they could trust, thus,with a touch of the lips, they’d kissed, but she’s not going to delve into that, too many feelings, too complicated for just a simple brush and press of lips. And that’s when it hits her, like a piano, loud and heavy and man it should have been obvious-she likes both boys and girls, and that maybe, maybe gender doesn’t matter to her. She’s attracted to Karolina, who’s both beautiful inside and out; she strongly likes Chase, who is someone she never wants to lose, someone who makes her feel safe, Chase who is all heart and soul. She likes Vale, who’s spunk and sweet and who shares interests with her, such as music, feminism and mischief, which she’s coming to like. Valentina who’s loud, who doesn’t make her feel small or shameful or patronized or last.

She continues to share little pecks with Vale sometimes, it’s nice and she likes Vale quite a bit, not as strongly as she feels about Chase, but that’s not something she wants to ruin with awkwardness with either of them.

Unfortunately, Karo catches her and Vale one day in Gert’s sound proof basement where they’re supposed to be working on a piece for Mr.Ashraff’s drums class, and the tensions rise too crucial heights. For days on end Karo’s quiet and tense and terse around her, spying on her through the corners of her squinted eyes- is Karolina homophobic?

Thus, once again, Gert doesn’t feel quite safe in the group and is on the brink of frustration when one day the seven of them are hanging out in Alex’s game-room. After yet another side eye from Karolina, she bursts;

‘‘Got a problem, Karolina?” her voice cold and bitter and angry to hide the hurt and the anxiety.

‘‘no.”

‘‘okay, good.”

‘‘good.”

‘‘I’m going to get some more soda” walking out to give herself a moment ,to reign in.she’s not alone,

‘you two okay? asks Chase in a soft yet concerned voice, sharing a worried look with Molly.

‘‘yeah. of course.’’ she’s lying so obviously lying, and by the looks on their faces, molls and chase know too.

She needs to avoid this confrontation, so Gert rushes back into the room and throws herself in her spot, pretending to look busy on her phone.

Craving something sweet Amy drags them all to timely for baked goods and frappes.

It takes her a bit to decide, but eventually she gives her order hesitantly to the annoyed barista. Gert feels accomplished, she doesn’t how or why she feels so uncomfortable at times, but she isn’t going to let it control her, she’s going to own that bitch one day.

“Oye bandadia’,(hey badass/bandit) calls her a teasing voice underlined with pride, for her? She turns so abruptly that she gets whiplash, and it hurts her neck. And yes, she isn’t hallucinating, it really is Valentina giving her a teasing smile with those shining lit up eyes.

‘Cállate cabra, probaste el vanilla frappe?” (shut up weirdo [goat],have you tried the vanilla frappe?) she manages to answer reigning in her nervousness. She’s still a little anxious about her order, but still, small victories, besides it’s seen as making conversation.

‘No, pero mi hermano sì y le gusto” (No,but my brother has,he liked it)Valentina tone ringing with teasing and smug and her lit up eyes, she knows, ugh, the little shit.

“ah, okis, hola” she says almost as an afterthought after realizing she hasn’t properly greeted her yet. leaning in to touch her cheeks and to make the kiss sound, only Vale kisses said cheek loudly. Afterwards, Gert can feel her cheeks warm and can also feel the group’s eyes on her, well not Molly’s because she knows Valentina and greets her the same way Gert did, except this time Vale doesn’t peck her cheek. So much for playing it cool. Proceeding to do the introductions to try and keep the attention away from her, more specifically Karolina’s, who is starring-hard. ‘‘everyone this is Valentina, a friend of mine from music class, vale, everyone.’’.

Bit’s only when they are back at Alex’s place that they start questioning her;

“what was that thing that you did and why did she kiss you on the cheek?” surprisingly it’s Chase. is it her or is he sounding rather insistent? And what is he prodding for?

‘‘She’s Chilean, now American Chilean, and in South America kissing each other cheeks or pretending to and just touching and making the sound is a common way of greeting people. And since she misses her home country, and since both Molly and I are Latinas, ‘I’m Jewish Latina, she’s asked us to greet her that way.” Gert automatically answers,it comes out sounding like she’s tossing in an obvious factoid-good, cause she’s anxious right now.

‘‘Oh..That’s sweet of you. ...and Molly” with a soft breathless voice and melting eyes. She doesn’t understand why he does that with her sometimes and she’s not sure she wants to know because it does things to her, and she doesn’t want to dig into that either, shit. are her own eyes doing the same? So, she lowers her head and fiddles with her frappe’s straw to keep herself busy.

‘but a kiss on the lips is just a kiss ’‘she can’t be serious.

‘‘‘Yes, a kiss on the lips, it’s usually universally meant for, you know, either love or lust or whatever people feel when they kiss.” Nope. She’s not going to let Karolina get to her. She won’t look at anyone or anywhere, yup she’s just sipping her frappe, it is delicious.

‘‘Gert?” just the sound of her name and how can someone sound so vulnerable and quiet and yet loud and baleful with only just a one-syllable word. But that’s just how Chase is. She makes the mistake of looking up at him and his whole stance has shifted, he’s tense, standing with his back straight, jaw clenched, Adam’s apple bopping, neck muscle pounding and his brown chocolate eyes are the color of burning onyx and are showing swirling hints of pain, sadness, anger and a few other things she can’t really discern. The air around Chase, chase is heavy and charged.

‘‘Valentina and I have shared a few kisses.... I’ve come to realize that I like both girls and boys, I don’t care about gender to be honest.” Her voice is quiet and firm, but she can feel the fear stirring up in her. She has realized she’s either bi or pan-sexual (yes, she’s been researching) and these people won’t be her friends if they’re not okay with it. She has her parents and Molls whom she has spoken with and have accepted her and they don’t love her any less because of it.

She’s tall and defiant, pushing down the fear; no one says anything but her sister comes to stand beside her, tan hand on her shoulder,squeezing, giving love and support, Moll’s brown eyes locked on the rest of the pride kids, cold and alert.

Looking at Chase and she sees that he has changed yet again. Now he’s looking at her softly and openly, but his eyes are still the color of onyx with all that swirling darkness, his aura is lightly tinted with loss and anger, his stance has relaxed, his arms hang loosely on his sides, but for some reason he looks defeated.

‘‘Chase?’ her voice comes out tentative, even she doesn’t know what she’s asking for. Acceptance? Understanding? to at least say something?

‘Gert” he says openly, standing in front of her, “you’re my best friend, always”, and she’s tearing up and she can’t take it anymore, so she clutches him to her and his arms wrap around her tight. Then he releases her, but plants himself on her right, throwing his arm around her shoulders, clutching her to his side giving her safety and support.

‘‘I don’t get it, but it’s okay. ’Nico says and then her, Alex and Amy and even Karolina all pull her in for a hug. It’s one of the best feelings ever.

Later she is left alone with him., everyone having left for their own homes but chase had come and stayed at her place, and Molly’, had feigned tiredness and retired to her room, the little sneak.

‘‘You like her, Valentina I mean?’‘he’s looking at her inquisitively.

‘‘I kind of do.” She keeps quiet and for some reason she feels guilty like she’s said something wrong. She and Chase have a well-balanced friendship that’s bordering on domestic, it’s easy going, even though sometimes it feels like a relationship to her; just without the label and the kissing, but it’s not and it’s best to break out of it now because he doesn’t like her, at least not like she likes him so it’s better to try and move on.

‘‘Are you or will you be dating her?” the more they talk the more dejected and frustrated Chase sounds.

‘‘No and no. I kind of like her, but I don’t want to be with her that way” she answers quietly.

‘‘Why?”

“I don’t know. She asked me on a date and I said no, because it didn’t feel right. Don’t get me wrong, kissing, it’s more like pecking to be honest, we’re still kids, pecking her it’s nice, but maybe I’m too young to date or maybe I can’t give her what she wants. She wants to build an established relationship in the future and Vale’s feelings are so much stronger than mine. I feel like we’re friends and we’re figuring things about ourselves, being bi or pan or whatever, it’s a slow road we’ve just found ourselves walking, and at this age.... She was disappointed with my answer but she accepted it. She’s asked for some time and space before we can go back to being friends.’’ It’s the truth, those were the things she told Vale except Gert’s leaving out another part, the one where she feels too strongly about Chase to entertain getting in any kind of relationship with somebody else. It wouldn’t be fair to Vale or herself. But there’s no chance in hell that she’s going to tell Chase that. Luckily, though, Vale understood and gracefully bowed out.

Gert, she’ll come around and be a friend to you again. Though probably time and distance will be good for both of you.”

‘‘I know” she answers pulling him in for yet another tight hug that day “Thank you, Chase’’ She’s pouring all her feelings in that hug and drowning in his security, she knows she’s putting herself on the line but it’s ok for now, she will chastise herself later for it.

During the next music class Vale doesn’t sit next to her or smile her way or even glance at her. And somehow the class had lost some of it’s luster. Within 2 months Vale and her family leave for Miami to be closer to her abuelita.

It’s stupid for her too feel sad, because she lost her friend long before she left,since they weren’t even speaking. But Gert can’t help but feeling sad for weeks until Molly has had enough and crawls into her bed and cuddles with her bringing her love and warmth and sunny, positive and reassuring feelings. She’s so lucky to have her.

The pride kids don’t treat her any different, except for Chase who listens to her, pays more attention to Gert and her rants, and asks her questions when he doesn’t seem to understand and needs further explanations. This is not a bad thing.

Though,looking back, Chase has always like this, constantly careful not to hurt; he checks his words when he does speak, he’s mostly quiet in serious matters instead choosing to absorb and think. It does make him passive at times-it annoys her, cause why won’t he just take a stand! dammit! He’s extra gentle with his strength. It’s heartwarming cause, God this boy is patient and he’s good to his core. He’s witty beyond measure, matching her in battles of wit and snark, which makes him even hotter, if that’s even possible. And Chase is a dork and a closeted theater junkie who likes to apply red tinted lip balm and rock out to “wake me up before you go go”.

2015

Amy’s dead. Alex didn’t show up to the funeral. Nico’s shut down. Karolina’s helpless. Molly is sad and won’t leave her room. Chase is furious because Wilder didn’t show up, so he’s concentrating on lacrosse and his physique. And Gert has being losing sleep and is overall, just losing it.

All of them are drifting apart, but at least Molly comes back to her, crawling into her bed, holding her tight so that no one could snatch Gert away and asks for her lullaby.

Days turn to weeks and then months. Her phone keeps quiet. None of them can stand to be together, so even calls or texts are too difficult to fathom and even at school they avoid each other.

She doesn’t know exactly what’s going on with the others, their absorbed in their own lives. Nico looks buried with guilt. Karo seems to feel helpless so she’s running off to the church. Chase is always looking angry and is slipping into the role of the popular jock living the typical high school life.

Gert develops anxiety and panic attacks, she starts to go to therapy accompanied by Molly -God does she loves Molly.She makes the careful decision to use the doctor’s prescribed pill. With the help of her family, the exercises she’s learnt from therapy and the pill, does she start to get better.

Though after a particularly bad panic attack, her long, long hair was a stressor. [Sentient tentacles pinching and chocking, wrapping around her neck, crushing it and crawling into her mouth and down her throat.] she gets a slightly layered bob with bangs. And purple, from an eco-friendly brand, because she needed the change, something to break out of the after the stifling aftermath that was Amy’s death and the disbanding of the group.

she’s doing alright and life without her friends, the pride kids and Vale, is slowly becoming her new normalcy.

At least it was, until she gets partnered up with Chase in astronomy. When the professor announces it, Eiffel snorts and proceeds to reassure Chase, who is sitting in front of her, that she’ll Snap him to keep him company. Gert feels her blood freeze and tries to control herself because she can’t lose it now.

#gertchase #gert yorkes #chase stein #chase x gert #molly hernandez #karolina dean #pansexual #gertchase fic #gertchase fanfic #gertrude yorkes #marvels runaways #marvel's runaways

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kz-i-co · 7 years

Text

Babysitter: Part V

» Summary: You spend the day with Taehyung, but unfortunately your parents catch you together.

» Pairing: Kim Taehyung (V) / Reader

» Genre: Smut

» Words: 2.7k

» m.list ╫ bts masterlist

You woke from the sweet sounds of Taehyung light snores coming from above you. You couldn't get over how beautiful he looked when he was sleeping.

You were currently cuddled into his warm chest.

You gently stroke his arm down until you reached his hand. You grabbed his hand tracing your thumb over his bruised knuckles, remembering the events of last night. You felt a little guilty that your boyfriend had to get hurt just to protect you. You glanced up looking at his bruised eye. The swelling was down but black and blue color was still clearly seen.

You brought his hand to your face gently kissing his wounds. You felt so lucky to have such an amazing person to always be there for you. You also felt a rush of anxiety because you have barely two months left with him until you have to go back to school. Also you still had three years left.

You heard him cutely groan next to you as you continued kissing his hand. He lift his head to look at you caressing his hand and he smiled laying his head back down closing his eyes.

"Why do you always wake up before me?"

"Because I do." You giggled. "How do you feel?" You looked at him.

"I'm fine." He simple said but you knew he was more distracted about the whole thing.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it wasn't your fault." He said despairingly. "You should never be treated that way....when you're in a relationship, you should feel safe not scared."

"I feel safe with you." You smiled.

He didn't answer, he just leaned down kissing your forehead.

"So what are we doing today?" You asked.

"You'll see." He smiled.

"Let's get going." You sat up.

"No." He pulled you back.

You laughed as he climbed on top of you tickling you. "Tae...stop....ill wet your bed." You giggled.

He had your hands pinned above your head so you couldn't move. "I love you." Every time he said those three words you felt like the world stops. At the very moment particularly as he leaned down to kiss you. The kiss got deeper within seconds as you moved against his lips. You had the urge to touch him but he still had your hands pinned while his other hand slithered up your shirt.

"I swear if you two are at it, I will literally kill myself." You heard Yoongi sarcastically interrupt.

You also heard more laughter. "Or better yet Jimin." You heard the laughter die down.

"We better stop if you want your friend to live." You giggled.

"Let's go." He got up.

After you both got dressed, you were met with Taehyung friends plus one more extra you haven't met yet.

"I told you....they're like bunnies." You over heard Yoongi.

"J-hope, what's up?" Taehyung greeted his friend. "And we weren't doing anything in there." He glared at Yoongi.

"Not much." He hugged Taehyung.

They must of not seen each other for some time. You thought.

"This is (Y/N)?....you're so beautiful." He bowed for you.

"Thank you." You smiled.

"I'm Hoseok but they call me Jhope....its nice to finally meet you."

"Were going out." Taehyung said and grabbed your hand already pulling you towards the door.

When you finally reached your destination you noticed you were at the mall. You never really been to the mall because your friends were more party goers, the only time was to see a movie.

"I hope you're not buying me stuff."

His face went blank.

"You don't have to prove your love with gifts." You kissed his cheek.

As you stepped inside the mall it was bigger then you remember. The first thing that you both did was go to the arcade.

Taehyung was a kid at heart so you figured that's where he would want to go.

"I'm going to kick your ass in racing." He ran to the racing booth.

You sat down next to him in the booth giggling at his child like behavior. "You ready?"

Taehyung beat you the first three times but it was a close call. You were really good but he was just a little bit better. By the time you asked to play one more game you had a devious plan. When you reached the final lap you tickled him right above the knee like he did for you in the photo booth. He laughed so hard his car crashed into the wall giving you first place.

"You cheated." He whined.

"I did no such thing." You smirked.

You jumped out of your seat. "I pick next game." You stood at the end of the air hockey table.

"You don't want to play this with me." He smiled.

"Why?"

"Because apparently I'm dangerous."

You smirked. "Prove it." But before you played the game you heard loud commotion to the front of the arcade.

Shit. Youngjin. You saw him messing with some teenagers.

Taehyung was just about to walk over until you stopped him. "Please don't." You said painfully.

"I want to have a good day." He looked down in your direction. "Let's go somewhere else." He nodded.

As you were leaving you saw a employee and warned them about Youngjin and his stupid friends.

"Ice cream?" You suggested.

Before he could answer you dragged him to the stand.

After you both ordered, you attempted to pay but Tae beat you to it.

"You got something on your face." He smirked.

"Wha-" Just as you questioned, Tae made your ice cream cone miss your mouth and up your nose.

"Tae." You pouted as he was dying from laughter. You wiped off the remaining and wiped it back on his face. It didn't faze him one bit as he just wiped it off licking his fingers.

"You're going to get it." You tried to wipe as much as you could see off your face.

"Here." He leaned into you kissing your nose getting the rest of the ice cream off your face. You felt butterflies from the simple gesture.

You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck bringing him in for a proper kiss. You usually hated seeing other couples kiss in public because it made you queasy but you finally knew how they felt. They were in love and they couldn't help show that even if it was in front of tons of people.

You almost forgot yourself that you were in public as Tae deepened the kiss with his tongue moving farther into your mouth.

If only the next moment you were aware of your surrounds. "Is that?" You didn't notice your mother ask.

"(Y/N)! Tae!...Ew what are they doing?" You heard the familiar little voice belonging to your sister.

You both pulled away looking in the direction of the voice.

"Yup...that's your daughter." You father stated. "I knew it."

You felt like your head could explode at that very moment as you noticed the expression your parents were wearing. Your father looked angry and your mother couldn't help but smile.

You saw your little sister skip over with your little brother behind her.

"Why were you kissing?" Dara jumped into Taehyungs arms. He pulled her up so she could hug him.

"That's what adults do when they like each other." Your brother confirmed.

"Does this mean you're gonna get married?" She asked. She gasped excitingly. "This means you'll be my brother right?" Tae just smiled at your sister.

"Are you hurt?" Dara started to ask Tae looking at his bruised eye but your father interfered.

"So you lied to me." Your father crossed his arms. "You lied so you can spend some time with him."

"That's not true dad...I mean it's true that we are together but I didn't lie about going to Liz and Sana's."

"I left a little early because of complications." Tae slid Dara back down to the floor.

Your father arched his eyebrow not believing you. Tae looked at you to see if you could handle what you were about to say.

"You see.....Liz and Sana was having a party and I-" You hated thinking about that night.

"Let's just say this guy was forcing himself on me and if it wasn't for Tae I don't know what would of happened."

Your dad noticed his bruised face and his eyes soften. "He let me sleep over his house....and no worries his friends were there....I'm sorry dad....you can trust him...mom does."

"You knew they were together." Your dad asked your mother.

"Yes dear...and I'm okay with it....hes a a good boy." She smiled at you.

"I want them to get married." Dara pitched in.

Your father rolled his eyes. "Okay." He looked at you both.

"But I swear...I don't want to know anything....and you better stay in school...no getting yourself pregnant." Your dad rambled.

"No worries daddy." You hugged your father.

"Thank you....for protecting my little girl." Your father firmly shook his hand but soften as soon as he saw his bruised knuckles. "I'm grateful honestly."

"Are you coming home tonight?" You father asked.

You nodded. "We are going to need you to babysit." He continued. "Alone." You watch your mother smack him.

"She's an adult now hun."

"Yeah dad, we know better." Do you? Do you really?

"Okay...you couch...you bed." Your dad spoke down to you both.

"Dad." You warned.

"I mean it."

"Okay....come on Minho." Your mother called.

You were seated on the couch with your sister in between you two and your brother upstairs playing his new video game.

"Are you going to have babies?" Half way through the movie your sister spoke up.

You heard Tae cough nervously as you stared at your sister.

"You watch too much TV Dara."

"Some day I can babysit your baby." She smiled.

"Dara plea-" You started.

"Of course." Tae confirmed.

"Yay...I can't wait." She looked back towards the TV.

About an hour later Dara was passed out in between the both of you. Tae had the honors to get up and carry her to bed. As he was gone you decided to clean up the living room a bit. You opened the door to your back porch and carried the trash to the bin.

You felt the warm summer breeze fill the air. It was relaxing. You noticed the hot tub in the corner and realized that it was never used.

You made your way over plugging it in. You turned the settings on and the lights lit up inside as the jets foamed the water.

"You have a hot tub?" You heard Tae behind you.

"No one ever uses it." You shrugged your shoulders. "But...."

You pulled off your shirt, then your jeans leaving you in only your bra and panties. You smirked at Tae as you stepped in. It was warm already and you choose to sit in front of one of the jets in the corner letting it blow water on your back.

You watched as Tae pulled off his shirt and pants. You blushed seeing him in his boxers.

"I don't want to get my clothes wet because I don't have extras." He pouted.

Before you could speak he pulled his boxers down but making sure to cover up with his hands. You laughed feeling embarrassed. "You're too much."

He sat down across from you leaning his head back on the edge of the hot tub. You pushed yourself over so you were right next to him. His eyes were closed so he didn't expect you to be so close. You started kissing under his ear making him slightly jump.

He didn't move he just enjoyed the way you made your way over his lap straddling him. You leaned in kissing him desperately. You tugged your hand down into the water grabbing his limb length. As soon as you started pumping him you felt him stiffen in your hand. You pulled away to catch your breath as you continued to jerk him off.

He finally opened his eyes to look at you. He wrapped his arms around your back unhooking your bra tossing it outside of the hot tub. You pulled away from him so you could take off your soaking wet underwear.

You sat back down in your original position and quickly kissed him and leaned back just to admire his beautiful features. "Your sister wants us to make a baby." He smirked.

You couldn't help but laugh at his remark. "And my dad will kill you."

His smiled slowly faded. "Are you being serious though?"

"One day." You blushed. You leaned down kissing him once more.

"We don't have to make a baby but that doesn't mean we can't have sex." He blushed.

And at that very moment you lifted yourself up to lower yourself down his member. The water making it an easier process to adjust.

You started to rock against him at a steady pace making the water splash. You moaned as you felt him move his hand down rubbing you through your folds. He leaned forwards so he could kiss down your chest until he reached your right nipple sucking every inch of you.

You picked up your pace bouncing on top of him. You felt the pleasure stirring up already as Tae continued to rub through your core. He moved on to the other side of your breast sucking deep again. You heard the water splash out of the hot tub from your quick movements. You could feel his member twitch inside of you.

He leaned his head back once again giving you access to kiss his neck. He softly moaned from your touch. His breathing got deeper as you rocked against him. You quickly kissed him to steady his breathing as you felt him release inside of you.

You started to slow down as you felt the pleasure making its way up your core. Tae rubbed his hand through your folds more aggressively sending your orgasm passing through you. You leaned your head on his shoulder to catch your breath.

"Your parents might need to clean this water." You laughed lifting your head.

"My parents must never know." You smiled.

"Maybe we should take a shower." You suggested.

"Are you trying to kill me?" He arched his eyebrows.

"We smell like sweat and chlorine." You got out quickly grabbing towels in the downstairs bathroom. You handed one to Tae as you wrapped one around yourself. You both grabbed your clothes and you tossed yours in the washing machine. You made your way upstairs to your bathroom with Taehyung following.

You turned on the shower and stepped inside. You saw Taehyung hesitate outside of the shower. "I wont bite." You smirked.

He stepped inside and you immediately had him pinned against the wall. You kissed down his body until you were on your knees. You grabbed his member kissing the tip.

"I'm not going to last long." He moaned as you started kissing down his length.

"That's okay...I don't know how long we have anyway." You teased.

You quickly put him fully in your mouth bobbing your head back and fourth making him hard again. You licked down his length as you pumped him quickly. He had a pained expression in his face making you laugh. You put him into your mouth once again making him moan a little louder.

You pulled off of him immensely to shh him. It was his turn to be quiet. He couldn't control his hands as he leaned one on your head to quicken your pace. You pulled away quickly as you felt him twitch inside of your mouth. He released once you pulled away aiming at your chest. You smiled seeing how weak he was.

"You okay." You stood up so you could clean his juices off your chest.

"No." He finally opened his eyes.

You both made your way down to the living room and made yourselves cozy on the couch and watched a movie like you normally would. You didn't realize once again that you fell asleep side by side once your parents got home.

"This time I'm waking them up." Your father said.

"Hun stop...they're fine."

"I swear if they did-"

"Don't you remember how we were at that age." Your mother pushed him upstairs.

"Goodnight..." Your mother whispered to you before making her way up stairs.

#bts smut #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts one shot #bts imagines #bangtan fanfic #bangtan scenarios #bangtan smut #bangtan imagines #taehyung smut #taehyung scenarios #taehyung imagine #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fluff

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mama-m1na · 5 years

Text

The Ballad of the Goddess: Chapter 1

~~~I~~~ ~~~Prior to the Encounters~~~

It was a hot June’s day when this tale began.

Two Filipino teenagers were in the car of the older female’s cousin’s car on their phones, waiting to get to the campsite.

This trip had been planned out about two months prior but the younger female’s attendance had been extremely last minute.

“So, Kerstin, how are you?” the shorter thirty-year-old woman in the front asked as the younger teen from the passenger seat.

“Oh, I’m good,” she replied on the right of a car seat containing the woman’s son, in the back seat, “Thank you for taking me with you.”

“It’s no problem the more the merrier,” she replied in a higher pitched voice with her accent coming through on certain syllables.

“Kerstin, remember we aren’t burning down a forest,” the ravenette sung on the left of the car seat.

“Mina, you know I won’t,” the dark brunette chuckled earning a serious glare from her companion, “Fucking fine, but I know you want to to it too.”

“Language, Kerstin,” the ravenette sighed, “there is literally an infant in between us.”

“Oh shit you right… Fuck, wait shit!”

After about half an hour more of driving they had finally made it to their camp site and began to set up the tents along with the rest of the ravenette’s family members that had shown up.

“So what are we going to play tonight?” a woman named Kayla asked as they group was eating lunch.

“We could just start off with Salem tonight then do D&D tomorrow,” a male named Zyrus suggested, “It would also give me more time to adjust it since we’re adding in another character.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” the fourteen-year-old Vincent said while on his phone since there was a sliver of signal at their campsite.

The whole group sat under the two easy ups at the tables eating some fried Corn beef with rice.

“Do you guys want some hot chocolate or coffee?” an older looking version of Vincent asked the two females as they sat together planning to do some things at night in the woods.

“Yes please,” Kerstin replied as Rhamina hid her notebook with all of their plans from sight, “Hot chocolate.”

“So we’re doing D&D tomorrow afternoon since we’re going to be exploring the nearby town in the morning and for lunch,” a man named Zack said walking out of his tent.

“It’s time for Pokemon Go!” the ravenette chirped bringing out her Pokeball plus from her purse.

“Good luck beating Andrew, Rhamina,” Zack chuckled referring to his brother who was ranked 37 in the world for the mobile game.

“I’m not trying to beat him, I just want adventure and a leafeon,” the ravenette replied as she looked back to her notebook before continuing to work on her plans with Kerstin.

That night sitting around the campfire was all of the Filipinos as the younger ones continued the tradition of burning all the paperwork from the past school year.

“Fuck you APES!” Kerstin screeched as she dumped a whole binder’s worth of paper into the flames causing them to rise higher.

“Shit!” she exclaimed backing up to avoid lighting up her eyebrows.

Meanwhile Rhamina was sitting in a chair beside her loud companion with her melodica in hand.

As conversations continued the ravenette brought the plastic instrument and began to play a melody from an anime she watched.

While the notes resonated amongst the campgrounds and surrounding forest eyes opened from deep within the mountain before letting out a deafening roar which shook the earth.

The music immediately stopped as the female felt the shaking before she looked up at her relatives.

The shaking slowed to a stop before the older looking version of vincent held up the vintage book styled box for a game called ‘Salem’.

“So we down to play?” he asked as everyone just gave him wide-eyed stares.

“What?” he asked moving to the table under the easy-up, “We’re in California, earthquakes happen all the time.”

As the group played the witch hunting game Rhamina and Kerstin couldn’t help but feel really giddy.

“What the fuck?!” Kerstin screeched as the seventh accusation was placed on her.

“Flip that last card,” Zack chuckled as she did so aggressively, revealing not a witch card but the constable card.

“Good luck living when no one can save your asses!”

“Oof,” Rhamina winced as her sister kicked over one of the chairs by the fire, “Kerstin, come on he’ll get what’s coming to him.”

“That’s a pretty witchy thing to say, Rhamina,” the male replied narrowing his eyes at her.

“Well, I’m not the one who killed off the constable, Witch,” she playfully snapped back throwing the blame back at her cousin.

As the game continued only Zack and Rhamina were left in the game, winning the game as they were the witches who had killed off all the villagers.

“Yeah, witches!” Zack cheered as he reached over and high fived the female.

“Well, I’m gonna turn in for the night,” Kayla said walking back to her tent.

“I’m going to go use the restroom first,” Rhamina said, standing and taking a flashlight with her.

“Wait for me!” Kerstin sung as she dashed to follow her sister to the restrooms which were about thirty feet away from them.

“Dude, I don’t know why but I feel so fucking excited,” Rhamina said as they walked over.

“Dude, same!” Kerstin squealed, “Do you have any idea why?”

“Nope,” Rhamina chuckled while opening one of the doors, “Who knows maybe this trip will finally be the big adventure we’ve been looking for since seventh grade.”

The next morning Rhamina woke up before her sister and changed out of her pajamas while trying to stay as quiet as possible as not to wake Kerstin before she walked out of the tent to the table.

She set her small backpack down before moving to put water in a kettle and over the portable burner they brought so she could make tea.

“Morning, Mina,” Zyrus said as he walked out of his tent next, “What ‘cha making?”

“I’m gonna make tea,” she chirped pouring the now hot water into a foam cup with the Thai tea bag already in it.

As the tea was steeping the male used the remaining hot water to make coffee for himself.

“So how’s the adjusted campaign going?” the ravenette asked as he sat down next to her.

“It’s going well, the encounters will be more fun I’ll tell you that,” he chuckled waiting for his drink to cool down enough so he wouldn’t burn himself.

“Uh oh, it’s never a good thing when DM’s say that,” Rhamina teased before adding coffee creamer and sugar to her tea.

“Well, did she already make her character?”

“Yeah, I had her roll for stats in the tent last night.”

“What time did you guys sleep last night?”

“Like midnight,” the ravenette replied taking a sip of her drink, “We were on a discord call with some friends and were playing a build your own story kind of thing.”

“You had enough connection to support a discord server call?” Zyrus asked with a raised brow.

“Well, there was enough connection to use Kerstin’s hotspot so I did that and it worked pretty well,” Rhamina shrugged as more people came out of their tents.

About half an hour later almost everyone was out of the tents and eating breakfast.

When Kerstin had not yet come out of their tent Rhamina stood and left Vincent to watch her food before walking over.

Upon opening the tent she saw Kerstin, still asleep, wrapped in her sleeping bag.

“Kerstin, wake the fuck up, we’re going to eat then explore the town,” Rhamina called from the door causing the female to raise her head.

“Okay, give me five minutes,” Kerstin groaned as she sat up leaving Rhamina to zip up the tent and walk back to her family.

Five minutes later the female came out wearing a pair of black leggings and a hoodie which covered her shirt with white shoes.

“You’re lucky we’re not going on a hike today,” Rhamina said eating her food, “You’re shoes would get fu- fudged.”

“Wait shit,” Kerstin hissed while she got her food, “When are we going on the hike?”

“Probably going to do multiple hikes starting tomorrow,” Kayla said from her spot by the fire pit.

“Fuck!” the female groaned earning a light smack from Rhamina as she nodded towards the toddler who was playing with his father.

When everyone was finished eating their food they all got into their different cars, Rhamina and Kerstin riding in the same car they were in to get there, to go into the town to explore.

As soon as they parked Rhamina had already connected her Pokeball Plus to her phone and stowed her phone away in her backpack as she kept the ball in her hand.

She only took out her phone when there was a gym or a pokemon she wanted but other than that she would just click the button on her Pokeball Plus to spin pokestops.

The town itself was also quite pretty as the buildings were styled to be almost like log cabins to accomodate for snow that would come in the winter.

Around lunch time the group decided to just eat at a Red Robins that was in the town.

During that time Kerstin pointed at something to the right and the ravenette’s head followed then turned back to see the darkette stuffing her mouth with some of the fries on Rhamina’s plate.

“Fuck,” Kerstin spoke with her full mouth, “You weren’t supposed to turn around.”

“Kerstin, I could feel you shift from beside me,” Rhamina said dipping some of the fish in her tartar sauce, “We’re literally sitting less than six inches next to each other.”

Rhamina was eating her fish and chips with a salad as well as a gigantic oreo milkshake that she got for free since she was able to convince the people it was her birthday.

Kerstin was eating spicy chicken wings and had the endless fries that she kept stashing in her purse for later before ordering more literally five minutes after her previous order was placed on the table.

When they were done they went around the older part of the town and eventually entered an antique shop.

Rhamina and Kerstin were walking around the store with Vincent when they both felt a pull.

Backing up to one of the aisles they looked at each other before following each of the pulls.

Kerstin was led to an old looking flintlock pistol that was rusted to the point where it for sure wouldn’t work anymore.

“Holy shit this looks cool!” Kerstin exclaimed picking it up and checking the price to see it was one thousand and fifteen dollars, “Nevermind.”

“What the hell would you do with an old gun anyway?” Vincent, who had followed Kerstin while looking at his phone, asked.

“I don’t fucking know!” she barked, “It just looked cool.”

“So you’re interested in this old thing are you?” and old woman asked from behind the two.

“Holy shit!” both exclaimed in surprised before turning to the woman before thinking she looked eerily familiar.

“Why would a young girl such as yourself want an old thing like this?” she asked holding up the rusted gun, “We have many other display pieces that are much nicer and cheaper than this one.”

“I honestly don’t know,” the darkette shrugged, “i just felt drawn to it.”

“Mhm?” the woman asked tilting her head up so that her eyes weren’t seen behind her glasses due to glare, “How about I give this to you for fifteen dollars-”

“Holy shit really?!” Vincent asked with wide eyes.

“But, you must carry it with you and use it when needed,” she said handing over the gun after removing the price tag.

“Um, sure,” Kerstin said wary but pushing those feelings away and following the pull to the weapon instead.

Meanwhile, Rhamina was farther away towards the back of the room following her gut to a jewelry box.

She felt light and all the sound around her was drowned out as she reached to pick up the jewelry box with both of her hands.

As soon as she touched it a surge of power flowed through her and her hair was blown back before she was left holding the box.

She inspected the box and found that it was locked before checking the price only to choke once seeing it was three hundred dollars.

“Fuck me,” she coughed before moving to set it back only to be stopped by a pair of hands.

“You alright?” an older male asked from above her.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said with the usual smile she gave to strangers, “Just looking around.”

“May I?” he asked gesturing to the box.

“Sure,” she replied handing it over and watching as he inspected it.

“This is a beautiful thing,” he said before taking a pen out of his pocket which had his name tag reading, Robert, and adding a decimal point between the three and the first zero.

“Don’t go telling anyone now,” he chuckled handing the box back to the wide eyed female.

“Wh- wait?!” she said, “Is this okay?!”

“It’s fine,” the male chuckled beginning to walk away, “No one was going to be able to buy that anyway.”

“You have beautiful eyes by the way,” he spoke, turning his head over his shoulder before disappearing into another aisle.

“What?” the ravenette whispered to herself as he looked into a mirror next to her, “What the fuck?!”

With widened eyes she saw her brown irises were glowing brightly and the the golden flecks within them became more prominent.

Before she could question it further the glow disappeared and she blinked before looking down at the box.

It was a dark brown, rectangular box with a golden unicorn design on its flat top.

Looking underneath it, she saw a key for what she assumed to be a music box and turned it once only to realize it needed to be opened to play the music.

“Mina, you good?” her aunt Xenia asked upon seeing the ravenette just looking down at the box, “Oh, that’s pretty! How much is it?”

“Um, three dollars and yeah, I was planning on getting it,” Rhamina replied, turning to face her relative.

“Oh, if it’s only three dollars I can get it for you,” the woman said gesturing at the box.

“It’s fine, I can get it myself,” Rhamina smiled, “It’s only three dollars.

“Okay, if you say so,” the woman shrugged before walking off to find her husband and child.

At the front Rhamina and Kerstin were paying for their items and noticed the people ringing them up were the ones that had spoken to them in the first place.

“Got a pistol?” Rhamina asked looking over to her sibling, “Nice.”

“Yeah, that’s a pretty jewelry box,” Kerstin replied looking over to the gilded box.

“I know,” the ravenette chuckled as they both finished their transactions before exiting the store in their large group and walking into a dessert shop.

Immediately Rhamina went and spent twenty dollars on cotton candy flavored fudge that she most likely would refuse to share… Scratch that, definitely would not share.

As soon as she took one of the squares and Vincent reached over to grab one she hissed before moving to bite his hand.

“Mine,” she growled lowly, closing the box and stuffing it into her bag next to the box before hugging it to her chest as they sat on the bench.

By the time they made it back to the campsite it was around four in the afternoon and they decided to eat dinner before starting their game of D&D.

Rhamina and Kerstin just at the fries she took using a bottle of ketchup Kerstin stole from the restaurant for extra flavor as the others ate whatever they could find.

At around five everyone was finished and sitting at the table to play.

Their campaign was homebrew and structured to be more roleplay than battle, being based around the magical school of Hogwarts.

“Alright, Chaos, you drink the potion and feel a movement in your stomach,” Zyrus narrated as the DM.

“Fuck! I run to the bathroom!” Kerstin exclaimed having been in that situation in real life many times.

“Roll for athletics.”

“Come on don’t have me shit myself,” Kerstin pleaded as she rolled one of Zack’s d20’s that she borrowed.

“Fuck!” she cried as she looked at the face up 4.

“You made it into the bathroom but right before you made it to the toilet your bowels just release everything,” Zyrus narrated as everyone at the table started to laugh while Kerstin dropped her face into the table.

“No!” she screeched causing Rhamina to laugh harder.

“Oh my God!” the ravenette gasped with tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes.

“Mina, your turn,” Zyrus said as everyone turned to the ravenette.

“Well, since I’m in the locker rooms, I pick the lock on Kerstin’s locker and get her pants before going to the bathrooms,” she replied still trying to calm herself down.

“Roll for Sleight of Hand.”

“15 plus two, so 17.”

“Alright you’re successful in picking the lock and see her crying face down in the women’s restroom upon walking in.”

“I drop the shorts on top of her head before leaving the bathroom,” Rhamina said looking over at the distraught face of her sister, “And I use magic to lock the door before walking back to the library.”

By the time they finished they sat around the open flames of the fire pit once again, burning papers from the school year.

“Hey, why don’t we tell scary stories?” Vincent suggested looking up at the full moon above them.

“Alright, Mina, go ahead,” the older version of Vince named Jay said.

“What?” she asked looking up from a piece of paper burning in the fire.

“You’re the witch, you should have some scary stories,” Zack commented as he held hands with his girlfriend who was holding their dog in her other hand.

“Um, okay,” Rhamina said before leaning back in her chair.

“Wait!” Kerstin exclaimed and ran off to the main table to grab their tub of rice before returning to her seat.

Rhamina gave her a raised brow but Kerstin only gave a wink before she started tapping out a familiar rhythm on the container.

“Impatiently you walk down a long forgotten street nothing to see for miles save for endless fields of wheat,” Rhamina began nodding with the beat while smiling at her sister, “blood running cold your eyes catch a ghostly silhouette feeling on edge you halt your pace then break into a cold sweat.”

“Drifting along the dirt road he's right in front of you a towering man with black eyes and skin of ghostly blue,” it felt as if the air around the camp grew colder and the rest of the group looked up to hear the story, “his aura tugs at your mind from somewhere deep within as he slowly approaches you with his ethereal grin.”

“Verses rush over your mind you heard it long ago but those are only children's stories so how could this be so?” Rhamina sang while Kerstin sang the bottom harmony, the eyes of the ravenette seemingly glittering in the light of the fire, “choruses and melodies of generations gone they tried to tell us tried to warn us through a morbid folk song:”

“Should you see a vision of the Blue man walking mind to him you do not talk. Should you see the horror of the blue man's smile your sweet soul he will defile,” In a large blue tent a gilded jewelry box began to glow a light gold, “Always is the mission of the Blue man tracking run away and don't look back. Hopeless is the terror of the blue man's victim pray he spares you on a whim.”

“Drinking alone in taverns until the break of dawn shouldn't be driving anywhere but all your sense is gone,” the forest around them seemed to go silent save for the beat and notes coming from the ravenette, “it's no surprise when you feel a lurch beneath the car. Did you run over that tall man walking outside of the bar?”

“Snapped to your senses you jump out and grasp at his back no blood to be seen anywhere, instead just inky black,” The shadows jumped behind the pair earning concerned looks from the group but they did not move from their spots, “Smiling viciously at you with horrors unseen. You tear at your arms hopelessly you're desperate to be clean.”

“As a child your mother told you of a tragic song the story of a man so cruel to all who did him wrong,” Kerstin jumped back in to sing the harmonies, sensing the unease but staying calm with her sister, “Make believe is all those tales have ever really been. So why'd your heart begin to race and panic's setting in?”

“Should you see a vision of the Blue man walking. mind to him you do not talk. Should you see the horror of the blue man's smile your sweet soul he will defile. Always is the mission of the Blue man tracking run away and don't look back. Hopeless is the terror of the blue man's victim pray he spares you on a whim.”

“Never play with fate young man with your heart of hate. You can't win, he will grin, and your mind will rot away,” Rhamina sang slowly opening her eyes to reveal her glowing irises.

“Should you see a vision of the Blue man walking, mind to him you do not talk. Should you see the horror of the blue man's smile your sweet soul he will defile. Always is the mission of the Blue man tracking run away and don't look back. Hopeless is the terror of the blue man's victim pray he spares you on a whim.”

“Holy shit!” Vincent exclaimed falling backwards out of his chair, “Did you see that?!”

“See what?” Rhamina asked turning behind her as the others facing her stood from their chairs.

“Stay close to the table and the lights,” Jay said ushering the ravenette away from the darkness, “Mike, hand me a flashlight.”

The tech savvy male did as told as the older people guided Kerstin, Rhamina, and Vincent towards the easy-up.

“What happened?” Kerstin asked hugging the rice container to her chest.

“There was something behind you,” Kayla said standing slightly in front of the girls, “It looked like a fucking shadow thing.”

“Mina, did you summon something?!” Vincent asked in genuine concern.

“No, not on purpose anyway,” the ravenette said not seeing anything but the stray lights from her cousins.

Back in the blue tent the glow from the box faded and the interior was left in darkness once again.

“There’s nothing there but you guys be sure to be careful if you go walking off,” Jay said sitting down, “If you need to go anywhere take someone with you.”

“Okay,” the three youngest answered in unison.

About half an hour later everyone went back to their tents to go to bed but Rhamina and Kerstin were up talking.

“What do you think they saw that got them that worked up?” Rhamina asked as she held the box in her hands.

“Who knows?” Kerstin shrugged, “They probably just got psyched out.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” the ravenette chuckled before picking up her phone to play a game.

Suddenly, Kerstin burst up from her spot with a gasp.

“What if you actually summoned the Blue Man?!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Rhamina asked with a raised brow from her cocoon of a sleeping bag.

“Kala was talking about how the shadow looked like a really tall humanoid thing right?” Kerstin asked.

“Yeah? So?” Rhamina continued.

“What if you summoned it with the song?” she asked with a large smile, “I’m such a genius!”

“That’s not how magic works, Kerstin,” Rhamina replied now looking back to her phone screen.

“That’s how it works in D&D,” Kerstin sung.

“But this ain’t a game you know.”

“This could be.”

“We are not getting into any conspiracy theories of the human conscious right now.”

The next morning Rhamina woke up at around dawn and quickly changed into a black tank top, blue shorts that ended a few inches above the knee, and a brown pair of hiking boots.

She decided to leave her hair down as she placed a pokemon cap on her head before exiting the tent.

Rhamina then repeated what she did the previous morning, but making a larger batch of tea to put into her thermoflask for the hike they would be taking later in the afternoon.

Slowly everyone began to wake up and come out to eat their breakfast.

That morning they ate corned beef and rice once again but Kerstin and Rhamina heated up the extra fries in a pan and ate that.

“I still don’t understand how you were able to steal a whole bottle of ketchup,” Jay said staring at the darkette.

“Mina helped.”

“She said, ‘Hey, Mina, can I borrow your bag?’ and I let her have it,” Rhamina explained in between bites of food, “She looked me in the eyes, slowly put the bottle in it and I didn’t stop her.”

“But why?” Zack asked.

“It is tradition,” both females replied in unison.

“Everytime we go to Red Robins,” Rhamina started.

“I must take the ketchup,” Kerstin added.

“And she must order ‘Distilled virgin vodka with boneless ice’,” Rhamina continued, “It’s an us thing.”

“That’s weird but impressive,” Kayla commented wiping the corner of her mouth with a napkin, “That you can pull that off multiple times.”

“Also, Mina, how is the fudge?” Vincent asked looking to the female who had the backpack on the ground near her feet.

“It’s delicious and all mine unless you would like to lose a hand,” the female replied narrowing her eyes towards her younger cousin.

“I know, I know,” he said putting his hands up in surrender, “You made that very clear yesterday.”

“Mina, you don’t act like that normally do you?” Jay asked.

“Only if I’m comfortable around people,” Rhamina replied finishing her food before getting more tea.

“That is unfortunate.”

“I know right?” the ravenette asked with a smile as she felt the weight of the jewelry box in her backpack while Kerstin felt for the gun in her waistband.

~~~Fin. Chapter 1~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Picture:https://www.pinterest.com/pin/436497388884018400

Song(s) Used: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AxNZ8VERvNk

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#Ballad of the Goddess #Chapter 1 #Prior to the Encounters #Rhamina Miyu #Kerstin Vera #Original Story #D&D Based

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