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hipsofsteel · 1 year

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69 for ColCa, 21 for Rusty & Kitty and 5 for Chris & Evelyn :]

Well, my beloved, either you picked awful numbers, or I have awful taste in music (unlikely for the Cyrano soundtrack features heavily on my Wrapped this year), because #69 is Mongolian rock music, #21 actually will work for that ship but not in a fun way, and #5 is the song I use to try to calm down my dog whenever the concept of wind gives her anxiety.

Anyhow, everyone whose old enough to remember when this was a Hetalia state OC blog, watch me return to my embarrassing ways.

Also, my most beautiful dearest... Tumblr has FUCKED their post editing and I really despise doing THREE of these fuckers in ONE ask. Goddamn NIGHTMARE post.

This ask is in reply to

#69, Carson and Roberto

"I'll pick #69 for the horniest characters," Katie thought. "Surely the funny number will correspond with a song that's worthy of the number." And then Jess looked at her playlist and found Mongolian rock music. Which was good music, but FREAKING HARD to adapt for these characters.

Absolutely no warnings for this, but the others will feature content warnings of a sort.

"What on earth are you listening too?" Carson asked as Roberto was at his desk in the living room, editing a movie script and actually wearing his reading glasses for once.

"Music." Roberto answered, chewing on the end of his pen. A habit he'd developed when he quit smoking.

"I can tell that." Carson deposited the decaf coffee next to his significant other, before taking a sip from his bottle of beer. "But where the heck is it from?"

"Mongolia." Roberto answered. "Bev sent me the album, said 'it fucks severely'. And she was right, it does."

Carson bit back a chuckle. "Of course she did. Is that script even set in Asia?"

"The vibes I need to edit does not have to match the vibes of the screenplay."

"Doesn't answer my question."

Roberto doesn't even glance at him, making a few quick edits and then frowning at something. Carson could have sworn he heard Roberto mutter well that's just a little too cliche for me even as he scribbled something out. Carson just watched him work, and sighed, settling down on the couch with his beer. Roberto's dogs were already fast asleep in their beds.

In a little while, he'd drag him off to bed. But for now, he'd just listen to this music with Roberto, and wonder if that script was set anywhere near Mongolia.

#21, Rusty and Kitty

Well. Sure this won't be sad/dark/SOMETHING EMOTIONAL.

Quick Author's note: This is set sometime in the late 1800s, North Carolina, and contains some allusions period typical racial violence. However, the characters, being capable of resurrection, do more violence in revenge. So you're warned in advance.

The problems always began when the area they'd managed to eek away a safe place to live in became too settled. When more people came, and asked questions about why a black woman and a white man were living together. Of course, Rusty knew that if the situation were reversed, it would be far worse. But still...

Here he and Kitty were, resurrecting in the ashes of their burned cabin. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. Slowly, he got up, and went looking for their stash.

The spare clothes, food and water, and the weapons were out by the time Kitty stirred. Rusty helped her clean up and get dressed before he worried too much about himself. But once they were both done, they looked at each other with tired eyes.

When they'd come home after re-admittance to the Union, they'd both prayed things would get better. But as Reconstruction had faded away, they'd watched it all go to hell again. Rusty didn't even have to ask Kitty, tossing her a fully loaded pistol and a rifle with a bayonet already affixed.

They didn't speak. No banter of Yellowhammer or Tar Heel. Kitty simply crested the slight hill to look down on the town, and when Rusty joined her, she pointed out the houses of each of the men who'd burned down their home. Tired green eyes met exhausted brown ones, and they sat down, recovering and waiting.

And when night had fallen again, when the town was silent and still with sleep, they went down.

They stayed at each other's backs as they broke down doors and walked into bedrooms. As they shot their way through men who had shot them. They only killed the ones who'd been involved, leaving the others in each family behind.

And in the morning, they were somewhere in the mountains, sitting on stolen horses, and nursing cups of coffee with reloaded pistols.

Others in the north could preach about peace. Of a house divided reuniting. But the North, the Union, had abandoned them.

Alabama took North Carolina's hand as she walked them further south. They'd take shelter in Ashton's home for a while. South Carolina would have probably have heard of the murders by the time they got there, but he wouldn't turn out his sister, or Rusty. He'd frown, and quietly let them in.

Violence answered violence. And as long as justice was not served in this country, Rusty and Kitty, along with all the other states, would have blood on their names.

#5, Chris and Evelyn

Not much to work with from a calming, instrumental piece, so I used the title more as the prompt than anything else.

Quick Author's notes: Nothing too serious in this one, but there are some musings on death, so be warned.

They're sitting on the porch of Christopher's home in Wallowa county as the last light of the summer day fades into the night. The insects are singing, and the wind is whispering all around them. Both have Pendleton blankets across their laps, just existing in a peaceful silence.

And then, Chris speaks.

"How do you think it'll be when we die a permanent death? Do you think it'll be violent? Or will we just go to sleep? And- will we leave behind any signs we lived at all?"

Evelyn blinks, startled out of her silent reverie. "Well. How long have you been sitting on that one?"

"A bit." Chris admits, looking out at his horses. "I guess it's mostly in the abstract, but the succession movements always bring it to mind."

Ah, this was about Greater Idaho. Fifty years ago, it was about the State of Jefferson. Ten years ago, it was about Cascadia. Chris and Beverly constantly remembering that if they became too fractured, one or both of them might fall.

"Maybe it'll be violent. But I think we'll just- just disappear." She looked towards the softly colored sky, still clothed in dusk rather than night. "People will know we existed. We'll leave behind some sort of legacy."

Chris looked doubtful on that. She knew why. He'd watched languages and people die, while the conquerors tried to pretend they'd never existed at all. She took his hand.

"If something happened to you, and I was still around, I'd make sure you were remembered. Adam would. Clark would. We all would. I promise you won't just disappear.

He nodded, giving her a grateful look without looking directly at her. As their hands fell apart from each other, she heard him whisper.

"I'd do the same if anything happened to you."

#aph california #aph colorado #aph north carolina #aph alabama #aph oregon #aph kansas #oc roberto #oc carson #oc kitty #oc rusty #oc chris #oc evelyn #ask hipsofsteel #my fic #fuck tumblr in particular for giving me an error message unless i used their ''new improved'' post editior which i hate

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drabbles-mc · 1 year

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Playing It Cool But She's Lying

Opie Winston x OFC (Chris Teller)

Inspired by the song Kilby Girl by The Backseat Lovers

Warnings: language, alcohol, pre-canon AU, Young Opie who isn't completely dead inside

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: I've had this fic pictured vividly in my head for what feels like the longest time and it still fought me every step of the way as I tried to put it down on paper. But it's done! It's here! I'm so relieved lmao. I have such a Big Fic planned for Opie and Chris but writing this in the meantime was just so fun. Idk, I love the idea of Opie in his super early 20's and not being so sullen all the time. Let the man have some fun. 🥰 Also, shout-out to @garbinge for listening to me ramble for hours about this fic and these two in general. They wouldn't be here without you. 💖

SOA Taglist: @littlekittymeow @chibsytelford @i-just-read-stuff @fuckyeahopie @justreblogginfics @buckybarneshairpullingkink @paintballkid711 @jitterbugs927 @fanfic-n-tabulous @mijagif @frattsparty @winchestershiresauce @beardburnsupersoldiers @choochoo284 @artemiseamoon @nessamc (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

Chris was rooting around the cupboards of Gemma’s kitchen, looking for something to snack on while she figured out what to do with the rest of her night. Her usual avenues for Friday night plans were all out of the question. The club took off earlier in the evening which meant that she didn’t have Jax and Opie to bother the way that she normally would. A handful of her friends from school had left town a few weeks before when college was back in session, and Opie’s sister Veronica was out of town for the weekend visiting Mary’s family. Charming wasn’t exactly a town known for being busy, but it had been a long time since Chris felt like it was such a boring spot to be.

The only upshot of it all was that with the club being out on business, Gemma would be staying at T-M and the clubhouse longer than usual to make sure everything was alright. On more than one occasion Chris tried to tell Gemma that things were much more likely to go wrong when all of the guys were on the compound, but the message never seemed to go over well. Either way, Chris had the house to herself for the night and she figured that if there was nothing else to do, she might as well take advantage of it.

She was halfway to climbing up onto the counter to reach the top shelf when she heard a motorcycle pulling into the driveway. More confused than anything else, she went and peeked out the front window to see who it could be. Last she heard, only the prospect for left behind and it wasn’t as though he would have any reason to be stopping by.

Her confusion only intensified when she saw that it was Opie rolling into the driveway. When she heard the door shut and the sound of his boots on the floor, she beat him to the punch and called something out into the house before he could.

“I thought you were supposed to be long gone,” she said with a laugh from the kitchen.

She heard Opie chuckling as he made his way to where she was. When he walked into the kitchen, Chris was perched comfortably up on the counter with a can of soda in her hand. Opie shook his head, not commenting on the fact that she was choosing to sit on the counter rather than the multitude of chairs around Gemma’s table.

Opening the fridge, he grabbed his own can of soda. “I thought I was supposed to be, too.”

She laughed. “What’d they do? Downgrade you back to prospect?”

“Might as well have,” he said as he popped the top on his soda can. “I’m ‘on probation’.” He threw air quotes around it to emphasize his sarcasm.

Chris nodded, not even trying to hide how funny she found the whole idea of it all. She didn’t even know what probation would really mean in the context of the MC. Apparently it meant Opie wouldn’t be going on runs with them or any of the fun stuff for a little bit. She sort of felt bad because she knew it mattered to him, but she also knew that it wasn’t as though it was going to last forever. They’d need him again in no time.

Without a word, she hopped down from the counter and started walking towards her room. Opie watched her for a moment, and when he realized that she wasn’t actually going to extend him an invitation, he started to follow her down the hallway regardless.

Just as he crossed the threshold of her room, Chris was flopping down onto the beanbag chair that she had tucked in the corner opposite of her bed. Opie couldn’t believe that she hadn’t broken or gotten rid of the thing yet—she’d had it for years and it showed with how worn out it was. He’d called her out on it once and her immediate response was, “Just because it’s ugly, doesn’t make me like it any less—kinda like you,” and then he never brought it up again.

Rather than going and sitting on her bed, Opie walked over to the small desk she had pushed against the wall by her bedroom window, the same window that she had definitely climbed out of on more than one occasion to sneak off with Opie and his sister, and sat down in the spinning chair that went with it. It was a miracle that he fit in it, but he managed. He stretched his legs out and swayed the chair back and forth as they both sat there.

“Finally got the house to yourself and you’re not even gonna throw a party?” Opie asked with a chuckle.

Chris rolled her eyes. “Gemma isn’t gonna be gone that long.”

“So you’re just gonna sit around and do nothing?”

“Hey, listen, you’re the one who came to see me. So if I’m doing nothing, you’re dong even less than that.” She paused. “Why didn’t you go with V to visit Mary and everyone?”

“Oh, uh, because I didn’t want to.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You’re such an asshole.”

He shot her a small smirk and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s in the genes. Besides,” he took a sip of his soda, “V’s always been Mary’s favorite anyway.”

“Yea, mine too, but we all gotta settle sometimes, you know?” she joked.

“Alright,” he said as he rolled his eyes, trying to look annoyed and failing.

“It’s unfortunate for you and Jax that both of you have younger sisters who are objectively cooler and better than you in every possible way. I’m,” she laughed, “I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

Opie was only able to keep a straight face for a moment before he broke and started laughing. “You don’t sound very sorry.”

The two of them moved onto other things. They talked a little about the club, but he never stayed on that topic with her for long. He’d known her his whole life and yet he never really felt like he was in the position to just sit down with her and ask her point-blank what her actual problem with it was. Even if he wanted to, it wasn’t like it was the right kind of night for that anyway. He listened to her rant about Gemma, the two of them talked about Jax, and they ran the whole gamut of their usual conversation topics before they finally hit a lull in the conversation.

When things had been quiet for a couple minutes, Chris looked over at Opie, who was still parked in her tiny desk chair, toying with the now-empty soda can in his hands. She watched him for a moment before saying, “We should go out.”

He choked on the breath he had been taking. “What?”

“Yea! We should go out tonight! I don’t wanna spend my entire Friday night sitting here with you.”

He chuckled, sitting himself upright in the chair. “Thanks.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.” She stood up from the beanbag chair and stretched. “Come on—I know a place.”

“You know a place?” he asked, doubt written on his face.

“Oh fuck off, like you know any places that aren’t the clubhouse.” She paused and waited for him to either argue or agree with the plan. “It’ll be fun! I promise.”

Opie looked her up and down, wondering where exactly they could be going that could be that much fun if she was planning on going there in one of Jax’s old hoodies and a pair of cutoff shorts. Still, he knew that it wasn’t as though he had much else to do. He could either do whatever it was that Chris was scheming up in her head, or he could go sit at home and do a whole lot of nothing by himself.

“Alright, fine,” he finally conceded.

Her whole face lit up. “Amazing.” She pulled him up out of the chair and started shooing him towards the door. “Now get out so I can change.”

Opie allowed himself to be pushed out of the room, shaking his head with a small smile as Chris all but slammed the door shut behind him. He waited in the hallway, leaned back against the wall opposite of her bedroom door, curious to see what he was about to get himself into.

When Chris opened the door back up a couple minutes later, she had completely changed. Her hair was down, long dirty blonde waves falling over her shoulders. She had traded in Jax’s hoodie for a snug black tank top, and her cutoffs for a pair of ripped skinny jeans. She was pulling her boots on as she braced herself against the door. Despite the fact that she was completely off-kilter as she got her shoes on, she still looked over at Opie with a smile.

“Alright. You ready?”

He chuckled, shrugging as he watched her finally get herself back upright again. “Are you?”

“Pfft,” she waved him off as she stepped out and started going down the hallway, “I was born ready, Ope.”

“Right,” he said, sarcasm dripping from the word.

He watched as Chris grabbed the jacket that she always wore anytime she was on the back of someone’s bike. It was usually his of Jax’s, but every now and then if things got chaotic last-minute she’d have to catch a ride with Tig or Chibs. Despite not having her own, she was no stranger to motorcycles.

Opie went to grab his kutte off the back of one of the chairs around the dining room table when Chris spoke up. “You can leave that.”

He looked back over at her, clearly perplexed. “What?”

“Your kutte,” she said as she grabbed her helmet, “you can leave it.”

He looked back and forth between her face and the helmet in her hand. “Sorry, did you get a bike of your own that I don’t know about?”

She laughed and shook her head. “No, but you won’t need your kutte where we’re going.” She saw the apprehension on his face. “Come on, Opie, just be a normal guy with a motorcycle for once. The girls will be all over you.”

“Oh, well, you didn’t mention there was gonna be girls,” he joked as he reluctantly left his kutte on the chair and headed for the door behind Chris.

He trailed behind her as they both walked out of the house and down the driveway towards his bike. It had been a long time since it was just the two of them doing something together. It was the nature of the club, and also having siblings, that there was rarely any alone time to be had. Everything was always done in groups. Chris had plenty of solo time with Jax, and so did Opie, but it wasn’t often anymore that the two of them ever really spent time together without Jax or someone else around.

“You’re really committed to the full-face helmet, huh?” Opie asked her with a knowing grin as he swung his leg over his bike.

“Um, yea,” she said as she climbed on behind him, “because one of these days I just fuckin’ know you or Jax is gonna wipe out while I’m on the back of this thing and I don’t wanna mess up my whole face because you guys don’t know how to ride.”

“Big talk coming from someone who actually doesn’t know how to ride,” he retorted as he clipped the strap of his helmet underneath his chin.

“I know how to ride!” she said, clearly offended as she pulled her helmet on.

“You rode once like three years ago,” he told her with a laugh. “Doesn’t count.”

Even though he couldn’t see it, Chris rolled her eyes at him. “Whatever.” She wrapped her arms around him. “Are you ready?”

“Yea,” he said, letting the bike roar to life, “just tell me which way to go.”

Opie followed Chris’s instructions with a blind faith that he wouldn’t have had in many other people in the same position. There was no hesitation in her directions, though. Wherever they were going, she clearly knew the way there. There was a moment, about ten minutes into their ride, that had Opie wondering if she was just going to have him going in circles. He thought maybe she was just looking for a good excuse to climb onto the back of his bike. But then they crossed the border out of Charming and he realized that she definitely had a destination in mind, but he had no idea what it was.

“Take this right up here,” Chris pointed down the street to the next stoplight, “and then you’ll see it.”

“See what?” Opie said as he rolled up to the stoplight, leaning into the turn with ease.

She laughed, squeezing herself a little tighter to him when she felt the tension in his body. “Relax, Ope. We’re not rolling up to fight club or anything.”

When he rolled a few yards down the street, he saw the place that Chris must’ve been talking about. He let out a laugh that was more sarcastic than anything else. “I think,” he said as he pulled into the parking lot of the club, “I’d prefer fight club.”

She lightly slapped the back of his shoulder. “Oh shut up. It’s gonna be fun!”

Opie parked the bike, allowing Chris to hop off before he did. He watched as she took her helmet off and shook out her hair. He hung his helmet on the handlebar, looking back and forth between Chris and the neon signs that were lighting up the dark windows of the club.

“Can you even get in here?” he asked, a smug smirk on his face.

“Fuck you, first of all,” she said with a laugh. “Second of all,” she reached into her pocket and pulled out a driver’s license that had her face but definitely not any of her real information on it, “I have a fake.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Opie said with a quiet laugh as he snatched the card from her hand to inspect it. He looked up at her, an amused look on his face. “Really? Rose?”

She burst out laughing as she took it back. “Thought it would be a funny little fuck you to Gemma,” she started walking towards the club, “not that she’ll ever know about it.”

Opie fell into stride beside her. “How do you even know about this place?”

Chris shot him a disbelieving look. “What? Did you think that all those nights me, and V, and all our friends didn’t go to the clubhouse with you guys we just sat at home feeling sorry for ourselves?”

“I mean…yea, kinda.” He laughed as she shoved him and he hardly stumbled half a step. “Guess I never thought about it.”

“Sometimes,” she told him as they walked up the few steps to the club door, “it’s nice to be out of Charming where everyone knows everything about you.”

Opie was about to try and come back with something smart when the bouncer at the door greeted them. The burly man made Opie seem small, and he was sitting on a stool just outside the door. Still, the man flashed a warm smile at Chris as she handed over her ID.

“Hey, Rose.”

“Hey, Benny,” she said as she beamed at him.

He looked Opie up and down as he handed over his ID, one that didn’t have to be fake. “Brought a friend, huh?” he asked as he looked over the card in his hands.

“Yea,” Chris said with a laugh. “Finally got him out of the house.”

He handed the card back to Opie, only looking at him for a second before diverting his attention back to Chris. “Have a good time.”

“Always do!” she said, a little more pep in her voice than usual as she took Opie’s hand in her own and dragged him through the doorway.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Opie leaned down so he could speak quietly enough just for Chris to hear. “They know you here?”

She was practically cackling as they made their way towards the bar. “How’s it feel to not be the famous one?”

She couldn’t see the look on his face as he allowed himself to be pulled through the clusters of people in the club. He was thankful for that, though, because he could feel the stupid grin that was on his face and he couldn’t quite manage to wipe it off. It was ridiculous, and he knew that it was, but he couldn’t help it.

“Man,” Chris said with a laugh as they got right up to the bar so that they could order their drinks, “I should’ve brought you a long time ago.” She turned and looked up at him. “Getting up here has never been so easy.”

“Being a foot taller than almost everyone in here helps,” he joked.

The two of them ordered their first round of drinks, and Opie finally took a moment to look around while they waited for the bartender to make them. The club wasn’t an overly large spot. It was comparable in size to the clubhouse only instead of being set up for five different things, the entire space other than the bar was dedicated to a dancefloor with the exception of a few tables on the perimeter of it all. The music was loud, the lighting low for the most part except for the scattered colored lights everywhere. It certainly wasn’t anything like the clubhouse. However, as he looked down at Chris and watched her watching everything unfolding around them, he realized it was exactly the type of place that she liked to be.

“I hope you know,” she said, pausing for a moment as she took a sip of her drink through the small straw that was in it, “that you’re going to have to dance with me.”

He raised his eyebrows, unable to stop himself from laughing. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh,” she laughed, leaning back so that she was propped up against the bar, “I definitely think so.” She saw the look on his face and argued before he could say anything else. “You can’t come to a club and not dance!”

“I didn’t know we were going to a club!” he said with a laugh.

“But here we are!” She gestured around like she was showing him the most lovely thing in the world. “So now you gotta dance with me.”

“Chris…”

“Opie…” she mocked his tone back to him. She finished off her drink and set the glass on top of the bar before stepping in closer to Opie. “Come on. You don’t know anyone here! I promise I won’t tell anyone in Charming if you’re a terrible dancer.”

He shook his head. “Not gonna happen.”

“I’ll make a scene,” she said immediately with a laugh. “Trust me, I’ll get Benny over here, tell him you broke my heart.”

He rolled his eyes. “You really are Gemma’s fuckin’ kid,” he said with a shake of his head. With a deep sigh, he finished off his drink as well. “Fine. Let’s go.” He saw the look of excitement on her face and cut it short before she could get too carried away. He held up his pointer finger, “One dance. That’s it.”

She laughed as she grabbed his hands in her own, walking backwards as she pulled him towards the dancefloor. “We’ll see!”

It wasn’t Opie’s scene at all. He knew it, Chris knew it, hell pretty much anyone who looked at him probably knew it. But it almost didn’t matter. He couldn’t remember the last time that he saw Chris having such a good time. He wondered briefly if this was what she was always like when she was away from the club and all the chaos that came with her family. She wasn’t quite a different person, per se, but she definitely seemed more at ease with herself. He wished that he could say that he felt the same.

Chris saw the apprehension all over his face and she had to laugh. She knew for a fact that some of the things that he had to do to get into and keep his place in the MC were much more daunting than dancing with her in a club full of people, and yet he was practically frozen to his spot.

Taking his hands again, she pulled him close so that his arms wrapped around her waist. He almost stumbled, not ready for the sudden closeness. No one would’ve been able to hear Chris’s laughter above the sound of the music, but with her body pressed right up against his, he could feel her laughter without having to hear it.

They both knew that Opie wasn’t a good dancer. Opie had a lot of things going for him, but rhythm wasn’t one of them. He’d only ever used all that height and muscle for fighting, for whatever brute force tasks needed to be done at T-M and for the MC. He never really had to be graceful, or any approximation of that.

Once he realized that Chris wasn’t just playing some elaborate prank, that she wasn’t going to throw him into the wolves and leave him alone, he tried his best to relax and ease into it. He was only partially successful. He tried to relax into the fact that his hands were on Chris’s hips, that hers were resting right in the crook of where his neck met his shoulders. With the heat of the club, Opie thought that the last thing he would want was to be so close to another person, but there was something surprisingly comfortable about having Chris’s body pressed so closely to his.

They’d only been on the dancefloor for a couple minutes when Chris interlocked her hands behind Opie’s neck and pulled her down so that she could talk to him and he would actually hear it. She had one hand rested on the back of his neck, one on his shoulder as she brought her lips closer to his ear.

There was laughter in her voice as she said, “You can loosen up, Ope.”

He chuckled and shook his head, trying not to think about how suddenly her being so close felt so different than any other time the two of them had been in tight quarters together. “This is as loose as I’m gonna get.”

She laughed, leaning her forehead against his shoulder for a moment while she did. When she finally lifted her head, tilting her chin so she could look up at Opie, she said, “It’s okay if you’re actually having fun, you know.”

He tensed up for a second, opening his mouth to argue, but then he realized that there was no point. The serious expression faded from his face and he allowed himself a small smile. “I know.”

She beamed up at him. “Good.”

She finally let him stand back completely upright. After that, he was still a little tense, and still extremely awkward on the dancefloor, but he was at least smiling and following Chris’s lead. Both of them were laughing as she moved her hands from his shoulders down to hips and tried to guide him into having some rhythm. It wasn’t successful but it certainly was funny. The sound of their laughter got lost in the music and the vibration of the bass throughout the club, but they still felt it.

While Chris had told Opie that he only owed her one dance, it was more than clear to Opie as soon as they got out onto the floor that it was going to be much more than that. It was a daunting thought at the start, but after a few songs and a few more drinks, he couldn’t deny that he was actually having a good time. Gun to his head, he’d never admit it to Jax or any of the other guys in the club. But when it was just him and Chris and a bunch of people who had no idea who he was, he allowed himself to enjoy it.

They were both standing by the bar, finishing off what Opie was assuming were their last drinks. Chris was practically glowing, a sheen of sweat across her forehead and a warmth to her face that was either caused by the heat of the club, the alcohol, or maybe both. The smile on her face as she set her empty glass down on the bar stretched from one side of the face to the other.

She gestured back to the dancefloor. “One more?”

Opie chuckled and shook his head. “I think I’m way past my limit.” He saw the exaggerated look of disappointment on her face and gave a good-natured roll of his eyes. “You said just one anyway. So, really—”

“Alright, alright,” she cut him off with a laugh as she waved her hand dismissively. “Fine. You win.”

“I don’t know if that’s what I’d call it.”

“What’s more of a win than spending your whole night with me, hm?” She leaned against him, batting her eyelashes for extra dramatic effect.

“Mhm,” he hummed as he shook his head at her. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he turned her around so that she was facing the direction that would take them both to the door of the club. “Let’s get you home.”

The two of them made their way through the clusters of people who were still on the dance floor, the stragglers who were just getting to the club. Opie was walking behind Chris, but she was still reaching back, keeping one of her hands tucked in his so that they didn’t get separated by any of the pushy people who’d had far too much to drink.

The same bouncer who had been there on their way in was still there on their way out, but he was too busy getting into it with someone who had gotten far more drunk than either Opie or Chris for her to be able to say any kind of goodbye on their way out. Chris hardly noticed the whole scene that was unfolding just outside the door of the club, but Opie watched as they walked by, unable to wipe the amused expression off of his face. It was nice to go somewhere and not be the person getting in trouble, or being the best friend of the person getting in trouble.

It felt eerily quiet in the parking lot after spending the last few hours in the deafening noise of the club. When Chris laughed as they walked towards Opie’s bike, it sounded so much louder than it actually was with the absence of all the background noise that they’d previously been drowning in. He noticed that she let go of his hand once her feet hit the blacktop of the parking lot. He couldn’t stop the frown that appeared on his face the second her hand fell back to her own side.

When she got over to his bike, Chris stopped and turned around so that she was facing Opie. There was still a warm glow to her cheeks as she stood there waiting for Opie. He left a bit of a gap between them, more than he’d been able to in the club because of all the people. Needing some breathing space after being packed like sardines inside would’ve been the reason that he gave if anyone had asked him why he was standing farther away than normal. The real reason, though, was that despite having all the room in the world to put between them, there was something in his head that was telling him to stay that close to her, a part of his brain that hadn’t ever spoken up in the past. He didn’t have the time to try and figure out why things felt so different now.

Despite the effort to leave a gap between them, Chris closed the distance so that she was right in front of Opie, head tilted back so she could look up at him. “Where to next?”

“What, you don’t have more planned?” he replied with a chuckle.

“I mean,” she laughed with a roll of her eyes, “I’m sure I could some up with something.” She took a small step back towards his bike. “Or you could just bring me home.”

“You’re gonna try to sneak past Gemma when you’re like this?”

“Oh, fuck no,” Chris said, shaking her head and laughing. She pointed at him. “I’m crashing at your place.”

He sighed. “Chris.”

“Come on, don’t make me face Gemma like this. Because then,” she leaned back against his bike, “I’m gonna have to throw you under the bus too.”

Reaching past her, Opie grabbed her helmet off the bike and set it into her hands. “Put your damn helmet on.” He tried to sound annoyed as he said it, but Chris knew better, as evidenced by the grin on her face as she pulled her helmet on and climbed onto the back of the bike behind him.

Chris’s arms were looped tight around Opie’s waist as they peeled out of the parking lot and onto the street. She was giving him directions to get back home as she kept herself velcroed to him. Despite the fact that the air had cooled considerably in the time that they’d been inside, and that the wind was whipping past them while they rode, Opie couldn’t help but feel all of the warmth that was seeping from Chris’s body into his. His entire back and where her arms were looped snugly around his torso all felt warm even with the chill around them. He fought to stay focused on the road and her directions as his mind tried to wander.

Soon enough, they were back in familiar territory and Opie was bringing them back to the apartment that he shared with Jax. Chris didn’t come over and visit often, mostly because things seemed to be better with her and Jax if they were only around each other in small doses. But he wasn’t going to be back with the club until late the next day, if not the day after that, so it wasn’t like he’d be able to give Chris or Opie any grief about her staying there.

As soon as Opie unlocked and opened the door, Chris strode into the apartment, looking around as Opie flipped on the lights. Nothing had really changed since the last time she’d visited—it wasn’t as though Opie and Jax were all that into decorating and interior design. Still, even though nothing had changed, now it was just Chris and Opie, and Chris was just drunk enough to be in the mood to make fun of their place.

“The infamous Bachelor Pad,” Chris said with a laugh as she kicked off her shoes. She turned to look at Opie as she shrugged off her coat. “Surprised I didn’t burst into flames when I walked through the door.”

Opie rolled his eyes. “Don’t talk like you’ve never been here before.”

“Yea, but,” she laughed as she flopped back onto the sofa in their living room, “I don’t know, it’s different.”

He walked over so he was standing beside the couch looking down at her. “It’s really not.” He held out his hand. “Come on.”

She allowed him to pull her up off the couch, managing not to topple into him once she was upright. Without another word, he started to walk towards his room and even though he didn’t tell her to, she followed him. He walked into his bedroom before her, turning on the light as he did.

Chris lingered in the doorway for a moment and looked around at the mostly-empty space. He had a dresser, and a bed, and a beat-up nightstand she was fairly certain he must’ve picked up for free on the side of the road at some point. The top of the nightstand was cluttered with almost-empty water bottles and empty bags of chips. The walls had a few different motorcycle posters tacked to them, but not much else. It was exactly what Chris pictured his room looking like—a slightly nicer version of the dorms at the clubhouse.

She walked in and sat down on the edge of Opie’s bed, watching him as he went over and opened the drawer of his dresser. He pawed around in it for a few seconds before pulling out an old t-shirt of his and tossing it to her without warning. He laughed as she floundered to catch it at the last second.

“You can crash in here,” he said as he grabbed a change of clothes for himself. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

She shook her head as she stood back up. “No, stop. Come on, you can sleep in your own bed, Ope. It’s fine.”

“Gonna go wreck Jax’s room?” he asked with a laugh.

She smiled and shook her head. “That does sound like a good idea. But no.” She turned and looked at his bed. “This shit is big enough for two.”

“Yea, but—”

“Don’t be weird,” was all she said to him as she walked out of the room and to the bathroom to change.

When she came back into the room, Opie had changed and was sitting on one side of the bed. He glanced over the second he heard her in the doorway. A small, warm smile crossed over his face as he looked at her. She was wearing his t-shirt and had clearly gone into Jax’s room and stolen a pair of his shorts. Nothing fit her quite right and her hair was a mess but Opie suddenly couldn’t stop watching her with a smile on his face.

Walking over to the side of the bed that Opie wasn’t sitting on, Chris peeled the covers back and laid down on the mattress, immediately pulling the blanket up to her chin. She rolled onto her side so that she was looking at Opie. There was a tiredness in her eyes that hadn’t been there all night, but she was still smiling.

“Thank you for tonight, by the way,” she said quietly as she tried to fight back a yawn.

Opie nodded, watching as she fought the urge to close her eyes. “No problem.”

“I promise,” she rolled so that she was facing away from him as she got more comfortable, “I won’t tell the guys that you actually had a good time dancing.”

He let out a quiet laugh. “Appreciate it.”

It was only a matter of a couple minutes until Chris was fast asleep, the sound of her breathing unmistakably soft and even. Opie hadn’t even gotten up to turn the light off yet and she was comfortably passed out on the opposite side of the mattress from him. Opie turned and looked over at her for a moment. Her back was still to him, but she looked so small curled up and buried underneath his comforter. In direct opposition to Chris’s calm, steady breathing, Opie could feel his heart starting to beat faster in his chest.

Shaking his head at himself, he got up from his bed and went over to shut off the light. He knew it probably wouldn’t make any different, wouldn’t quiet his mind at all, but he still hoped. Once the room was cast back into darkness, he carefully stepped his way back over to the bed and slipped underneath the covers as well.

Laying on his back, he stared up at his ceiling, eyes open even in the dark. The entire night played over again in his head. Part of him enjoyed it, thinking back on everything that had happened, how good and how easy it all felt. There was something different about the closeness, and while in the moment it had felt comfortable, or even right, now the thought of it was sending him into a complete spiral. He wondered if any of it meant anything—Chris inviting him in the first place, how comfortably she kept herself so close to him, the fact that when he wasn’t overthinking every single thing he was saying and doing he was actually having one of the best nights he’d had in a long time. He wondered if it was going to change anything. He wondered if there was really any reason for things to change. Or maybe he was reading it all completely wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time that happened.

But something was definitely different now.

Turning his head, he strained his eyes to try and make out Chris’s sleeping form in the dark. He could still hear the level sound of her breathing. Clearly everything that had happened hadn’t affected her that much. If something had changed, it must’ve been him.

He turned his head so that he was looking back up at the ceiling. He was just beginning to force his eyes closed when Chris turned in her sleep. She shifted around a little on the mattress, her legs brushing against Opie’s for a moment as she got situated in her sleep. Opie felt like he was frozen in place until she stopped moving. Even when she was sleeping happily on the other side of the mattress from him, he still had to force himself to relax, and try not to think about the gap between them.

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