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#so angry forever and ever they should’ve just made a rebels 2
luminescentturtle · 7 months
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actually still pissed abt ahsoka. my children what have they done to you.
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pastelwitchling · 3 years
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Somebody to You (Chapter 2/4)
               Isobel was not even a little bit what Alex expected her to be. She flipped her hair as he’d imagined she would, and she had the same sneaky smirk that Michael did that made Alex’s heart ache, but as they strolled the museum halls, passing painting after sculpture after painting after ancient pieces of New Mexican history, her remarks were never teasing but genuine.
               She seemed fascinated less with the actual artwork and more with what Alex thought of it himself. As if she hoped to unravel the mystery of him by knowing his opinion on the mundane.
               “What about this one?” she pointed at a piece. “And that one? What about this?”
               “Isobel,” Max panicked, “don’t touch that!”
               Alex hid a smile. Max and Isobel had the relationship he’d always secretly wished he had with his brothers, despite their differences. Despite their father trying to get in between them and pin them against each other.
               He should’ve been sad, should’ve felt left out as he usually did when Michael started flirting with a girl when they were hanging out; like everything was a reminder of how much he didn’t fit, but . . . Max kept looking for his reactions, and Isobel kept her arm hooked around his and glaring at anyone that gave the only gay kid a sideways glance, and both of them felt the need to fill Alex in on any inside joke they had.
               By the end of the museum visit, Alex realized the entire trip had been listening to more of the Evans’ stories than knowing anything about the pieces they’d seen. It was nice, like being with Liz and Kyle, except one of them kept watching him, raising an inconspicuous brow whenever Alex pulled his phone out and the other kept giving him covert glances and smirking, like she knew something Alex didn’t.
               Alex almost wanted to tell Isobel that he knew about Max’s feelings for him, as surprising and out of character as they were, but couldn’t bring himself to confess to them. They’d feel real, like he was humoring Max instead of the truth, which was pining and loving his brother and forever miserable at the strange distance Michael seemed to be taking with him now.
               Too lost in his thoughts about Michael, Alex didn’t even realize that Max was holding a smoothie in his face until his nose hit the cold cup.
               Alex blinked, startled, and Max smiled softly. “Sorry. Pineapple’s your favorite, right?”
               “Yeah,” Alex said slowly, taking the cup. Isobel was holding something aggressively pink and Max’s own was a deep blue. “How’d you know?”
               An unreadable expression crossed Max’s face for a split second, but it was gone so quickly that Alex was sure he must’ve imagined it.
               “I asked Michael,” he said, gaging Alex’s reaction as he took a sip.
               Alex had no idea how much it felt like he was suffocating until he had something cold and delicious trickle into his chest, like a window was open to his heart and he was able to breathe.
               His eyes fluttered and he sighed, content. Max’s smile widened.
               Alex pulled off the straw and looked down. He was used to being watched, but people’s interests usually quickly faded. Max, on the other hand, seemed to stare more and more.
               He cleared his throat, swirling the yellow smoothie. He glanced at Isobel, to make sure was busy harassing the enamored girl behind the desk about her right to have more granola. “Can I ask you something?”
               “Me?” Max blinked. “Yeah!”
               “Why now?” Alex asked. “I mean, we’ve been around each other since middle school.”
               Max seemed to think about this a moment, then, “I guess I just never looked at you that way. I mean, you’re – you’re my brother’s best friend.”
               “But that hasn’t changed.”
               “No,” he agreed. “But . . . Michael told me you play the piano.”
               “So?”
               “So,” Max swallowed, “I didn’t know that. I never even imagined it. You have this whole emo thing going, but . . . it feels . . . like . . . there’s more to you, I guess?” He shut his eyes. “Which I know is so stupid to say because I don’t know you that well, but I – I want to. I want to . . . know the guy that looks like he could rule the Underworld and still plays beautiful music on his piano and who laughs around his friends and who’s always there for the people that need him. You’re just good, Alex.” He turned red and wouldn’t meet Alex’s eyes when he continued, “You’re – you’re cute and you’re good, and . . . I don’t know, that feels like the best kind of story.”
               Alex stared until beads of ice water fell down the side of the cup and over his fingers. He blinked, and looked down. He should’ve been angry that some stranger would claim to know anything about him, but only Michael had ever been able to tell when Alex was angry about his father, and rebelling in everything from his clothes to his makeup to his words. When he found comfort in the dark aesthetic, but everyone else was uneased by it. Alex was scary and unapproachable. Only Michael had ever known of how weighed down he could be by others’ aversion to him, how much mattered to him. And now, it seemed, so did Max.
               Alex swallowed thickly, running through the million things he would say. How’d you know? Don’t read my mind like that. How did you so easily say what Michael never seems to want to? In the end, however, he settled for, “Oh.”
               *
               Watching Alex and Isobel together was . . . not unpleasant. Far from it, actually, Max found himself laughing when Isobel eagerly tugged Alex along every few blocks to gossip about who-knows-what, and Alex scrunched his nose every so often in a way that made Max’s heart flutter. It was either giggle a little breathlessly at his reactions or press his hand over his chest and question what his racing heart meant.
               “What’s so funny?” Alex asked at one point.
               Max blushed at the idea of confessing, but he figured it would help his case, so he murmured, “You’re kind of adorable,” and took a long gulp of his drink, refusing to look at Alex for his reaction.
               They walked along the neighborhood for a long time. Isobel treated them each to a beer, and if Alex was annoyed by her at all, he definitely didn’t show it. In fact, he looked amused every time she spoke, and it made something in Max’s protective heart melt.
               Stop it, he scolded. This is fake, this is all fake. Remember your mission.
               When the time came for them to part ways, Max insisted on walking Alex to his house.
               “Ooh, Max,” Isobel hooked her arm around Alex’s. “Such a gentleman! Ready to go, Alex?”
               But Alex, Max now realized, had faltered.
               “Erm,” he gently removed his arm from Isobel’s. He looked, for the first time that Max had ever seen him, nervous. “Th-That’s okay. I like walking by myself.”
               Max shook his head. “Alex, it’s really late, I can just –”
               “It’s fine, okay?” Alex said with some edge, walking backwards. “Seriously, I don’t need help.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Thanks though. I had a lot of fun. Really. Goodnight.”
               “Goodnight,” Isobel murmured back, her brows pinched, and when she looked to Max, he saw the same confused concern on her face that he felt. He’d thought everything was going fine. He’d thought offering to take Alex home would be a good thing. Had he said something wrong?
               When he and Isobel made it back into the house, they stopped in the corridor that separated their rooms. Isobel leaned her shoulder against her door a moment, and with a gentle smile, she said, “I like him.”
               Max pursed his lips. The same words were on his tongue, but they felt wrong to say. Isobel didn’t know that all of it was an act, that he had only gone out with Alex to help get rid of his feelings for Michael. The softness of her blue eyes forbid Max from confessing to that truth.
               So all he did was hum, mutter a goodnight, and open his door. When he stepped in, he found Michael on the edge of his bed, leaning his elbows on his knees, his hands interlocked tightly.
               Finding Michael in his room at ungodly hours was no surprise, but Max rarely saw him so distressed, his jaw clenched, his eyes focused ahead as if he barely noticed his brother, his thumb carving into the back of his other hand, his foot tapping restlessly on the hardwood floors.
               “Hey,” Max said warily, closing his door.
               “How was the museum?” Michael said in lieu of a greeting.
               Max understood, closing the door. “Good. Great, actually, you don’t have to worry.” He sat down next to Michael with a sigh. “Isobel came with, he had a lot of fun.”
               Michael dropped his head into his hands, his fingers tugging at his curls. “Great,” he said hoarsely.
               Max stared a long moment, and his shoulders slumped. “Michael, you got to stop this. Just talk to Alex –”
               “Stop it, Max,” he ground out.
               Max shook his head. “What happened? I thought Saturdays were for you and Alex, why’d he call me?”
               “I . . .” he growled and stood, kicking a dresser. Max said nothing as his brother paced the length of his room.
               “It’s okay,” he finally said. “He couldn’t hate you, no matter what you –”
               “You didn’t see his face,” he said. “I said – I can’t believe I . . . but it had to be done. I had to . . . he wouldn’t have called you otherwise.”
               Max swallowed. He didn’t know why, but the idea that Alex wouldn’t have called him if Michael hadn’t pushed him to do it upset him more than it should.
               “R-Right,” he said and cleared his throat. “Look, would you just sit down please?”
               Michael sat down with a  huff, his foot still tapping. Max gripped his knee firmly. “Hey,” he said. “I can tell you what he did.”
               Michael nodded, eyes wide and afraid. “O-Okay. Yeah, okay.”
               So Max told him everything, from the moment Alex had come over, to Isobel inviting herself along, to the museum trip, to the smoothies they had, to the beers. When he told Michael about offering to walk Alex home and Alex’s reaction, Michael didn’t look the least bit surprised. If anything, he looked angry all over again.
               “Asshole,” he grumbled, rubbing his face with one hand.
               “Hey,” Max said heatedly, “I tried to –”
               “Not you,” Michael rolled his eyes. “Alex’s dad. Jesse Manes.” He sighed. “If he gets even a feeling that Alex might be dating a guy, he . . .” he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
               “It does,” Max said, remembering the fear in Alex’s eyes when he had offered to walk him back. “Michael, he was freaked out –”
               “I know,” Michael cut him off firmly. “Just . . . let it go, Max. There’s nothing you can do. Just don’t let his dad see you together. No matter what. Alex will be the one paying for it.”
               Max swallowed, thinking. He had rarely seen Jesse Manes around town, knowing only that everyone admired him for his military service. Max had never had an opinion other than the fact that Jesse had seemed too cold to approach, but he was nothing like Alex.
               With Alex he saw a warm light. With Jesse, there was none.
               Nonetheless, he just nodded until Michael stopped looking worried about it, and brought in another pillow and blanket for his brother to sleep in his room.
               When he laid there in bed, he pulled his phone out, scrolling mindlessly for fifteen minutes before he convinced himself that pulling Alex’s number was a good idea. He didn’t think he wanted to or should call, but . . .
               Get home okay? he texted, and regretted it the second it sent.
               “Shit,” he whispered, his eyes falling shut. Michael was asleep against the wall, snoring away. Max tapped the edge of the phone when he got no response, then shut it off, leaving it on his nightstand and not at all expecting a response. Then –
               Ting!
               Max swallowed and grabbed his phone.
               Safe and sound, Alex’s message read.
               He bit his lower lip, hesitated, then typed out, Good. Sweet dreams.
               Now that was the one he regretted. Sweet dreams? He groaned, turning his face into the pillow and tossing the phone aside.
               He stared at it from where it sat on the carpet, not expecting an answer, or maybe for Alex to make fun of him or tease him for it. Then the screen lit up and he almost fell off the bed.
               You, too, Max.
               It was stupid. It was so, unbelievably stupid, but a smile tugged at Max’s lips and a chuckle escaped before he even realized it had formed. He could almost hear Alex’s voice, soft and amused, saying his name. What if he thought Max was cute? Or kind? Or unique? What if he was just humoring Max’s ridiculousness? It didn’t matter. He hadn’t laughed at him, he hadn’t ignored him. It made Max smile.
               “You really are good,” he murmured into the night. Michael slept on.
               *
               As soon as he woke up, Michael half-groggily reached for his phone, expecting to find texts and pictures that Alex had taken on their Saturday together. Just before he opened his screen to a single text and picture from Isobel, he remembered that he and Alex hadn’t actually spent any time yesterday with each other.
               Michael deflated entirely, his phone in front of his face as he thoughtlessly clicked on the message. He sat up at once. It was a picture of Isobel taking a selfie with a begrudging Alex on her arm, laughing in that cute way he did when his nose was scrunched and his eyes narrowed.
               He swallowed. This was supposed to be him and Alex yesterday. But what really caught his eyes was Max in the corner. He wasn’t looking at the camera, but at Alex, and the look in his eyes . . . the way he smiled . . .
               Michael had never seen that before. He looked at Max, still sleeping soundly, and thought about this plan to bring his best friend and brother together.
               His thumb tapped the edge of his phone. He wasn’t bringing them together. He was just diverting Alex’s affections for a second. And then Max would go after Liz, the person he actually wanted, and all of this would be over.
               Max doesn’t have a crush on Alex, he told his half-asleep mind, trying to calm himself down as he stepped out of bed. He doesn’t.
               Then for no reason at all, Michael typed out a text to Alex, asking him to meet in the park nearby. Max murmured something in his sleep, and Michael snapped out of his thoughts. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. What was he doing? He was so close now. He couldn’t stop this.
               So he fixed his text. He asked Alex to meet both him and Max. Alex took an entire half hour to answer, and Michael knew he was an early riser, so he tried not to feel panicked that his best friend might be too angry to respond, and when the text came that Alex would need twenty minutes to get there, some relief settled in Michael’s chest and he went to wake Max.
               “Huh?” Max sat up, alert, his eyes still closed. “What – what’s happening?”
               “Get up,” Michael said with a heaviness and unwillingness he forced himself to push aside. “We’re going to see Alex.”
               *
               Alex swung back and forth on the swing, his phone clutched tightly in his hand, waiting for any other word from Michael. He was convincing himself that he was excited to see him, but the memory of his words yesterday had gone from the back of his mind to the forefront, and he couldn’t help but still feel hurt that he’d been dismissed so easily.
               “I’m just trying to have a little fun here. Am I supposed to turn down a hot girl for you?”
               Alex’s fingers gripped the swing’s chains tightly, his eyes burning. Like Alex was some nuisance, a second thought. He’d never imagined those words leaving Michael’s lips. He’d never imagined Michael, of all people, making him feel so . . . unwanted.
               Then, before he could help it, his thoughts wandered to Max. Max, who had hurried him away from the large mansion only because he was terrified his sister would scare him away. Who had been eager to get Alex’s opinion on every painting, sculpture, and relic, and actually listened when he spoke. He’d never been able to speak to strangers so easily, but sometimes it was hard to remember that that was what Max was supposed to be. It was just so easy to talk to him . . . and so easy to forget the bad things around him . . .
               Alex shook himself of those thoughts. What was wrong with him? Max was just a cuddly teddy bear, someone who had helped out once when Michael was too busy. No matter what he said or confessed to, he’d get bored and tired of the chase soon enough. He’d get bored and tired of Alex, just like everyone else did.
               When he looked up, he saw Michael first, and started to stand. Then he saw Max, and his shoulders fell.
               “Are you fucking kidding me?” he murmured, and heaved a sigh as he sat back down. He wasn’t going to just run back into Michael’s arms when his schedule allowed him to remember they were supposed to be best friends. Ruining the only day they might’ve had alone was the final straw.
               “Hey,” Michael smiled wide, and Alex’s heart started to flutter. It made him want to cry. It was so unfair, especially when he knew that Michael used that smile on every pretty girl he saw. Until yesterday, Alex had believed he was different.
               Alex ignored Michael’s greeting and glanced at Max instead, who was sleepily rubbing his eyes. Alex faltered. Had Max gotten out of bed just to see him? The thought made him soften. It wasn’t fair, after all, to blame Max for Michael’s behavior.
               “Hi, Max,” he said, and Max blinked, clearly surprised at being spoken to.
               He put his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat. “Uh – hey, Alex.” Another glance at Michael. “Y-You look nice.”
               Maybe Max was waiting for Michael to approve of this compliment, to tell him how smooth he was being with his crush, but Michael’s eyes were focused on Alex, his expression solemn.
               Max seemed to sense the tension because he exhaled slowly and pointed at the swing next to Alex’s. “That swing taken?”
               Alex couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips, no matter how brief, and he shook his head. Max took the swing and swung back and forth as if nobody else was there.
               “Come on, Alex,” Michael murmured, kneeling in front of him. “If this is about yesterday –”
               “If it’s about yesterday?” Alex scoffed humorlessly. “Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?”
               Michael looked hurt. “That – that’s not fair.”
               “No?” Alex shook his head. “Saturdays are supposed to be ours, Guerin, and you treated me like some brat you had to put up with!”
               “I didn’t –” Michael’s mouth opened and closed on several sentences, seemingly appalled at the idea. “Alex, I just –”
               In a voice too quiet for Max to hear, Alex said, “You invited Maria. Was that just to hurt me?”
               His eyes widened. “No!”
               “Did I –” Alex faltered. “Did I do something to piss you off, or –”
               “Alex!” Michael couldn’t seem to believe that Alex would go down that road.
               Alex clenched his jaw. “Well, what was I supposed to think? I can’t believe you would even talk to her again after what she did to me! I –” he broke off with a shaky sigh, looking away from Michael and Max to keep them from seeing the tears fill his eyes. “I thought you were my friend.”
               “Don’t say that,” Michael said hoarsely, taking Alex’s hand in his. Alex hated the shivers it sent down his body. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I – I just knew that it hurt losing a friend like that, and I thought that it would make you feel better if – if I could fix it –”
               “The only person in the world I care about losing is you,” Alex argued, and Michael said nothing for a moment. Alex realized his mistake at once, and he looked down, his face heated. “I thought I was losing you yesterday. I thought you’d . . . forgiven her for what she’d done. Like my feelings didn’t matter as much as a pretty girl.”
               A moment of silence. Even the creaking of Max’s swing had stopped. Then Michael tugged on his hand.
               “No one . . .” Michael started and abruptly cut himself off. Alex looked back at him to see his expression was conflicted. Before Alex could ask what was wrong, what had been wrong with him lately, Michael forced a smile to his lips. It was a play at his usual light one without any of the lightness.
               “You know the fair’s going on until next week,” he said. “Why don’t – uh – why don’t we go together? Tomorrow? Just you and me?”
               Alex should’ve been thrilled at the idea, but something . . . something was off. Michael looked like he was more miserable at asking for it, and Max was looking at them strangely solemn.
               Realization dawned. Michael was hesitant to go out with Alex alone when he knew his brother had feelings for him. Alex glanced at Max again. He would’ve preferred to be on his own with Michael, but the idea of going with Max didn’t seem so bad either.
               He internally sighed. “Max,” he turned to him, “why don’t you come with us?”
               Max raised a brow. Michael stopped pretending to smile and his brows furrowed. Alex didn’t understand. Wasn’t this what he’d wanted?
               Then Max smiled, and Alex’s attention was caught. “Yeah? You really want me to come?”
               Warmth bloomed in Alex’s chest, and something like a breath of relief escaped his lips, his first real breath since he’d gotten Michael’s text to meet. Maybe Max would get tired of the chase, but . . . better to get the inevitable over with sooner than later, right?
               “I mean, if you want to,” Alex played at a shrug. Max chuckled and looked down.
               He nodded. “Yeah, yes, I do.”
               Alex realized he and Max were just staring at each other. He blushed and looked back at Michael, expecting to see him overjoyed. But his smile was tighter than ever.
               “Great,” Michael said. “That’s just . . . perfect. Exactly what I was hoping for.”
               *
               “Okay,” Max plopped down on the bed, feeling filled up on lunch and something else he’d been feeling since Alex had invited him along with them to the fair tomorrow. “What’s wrong?”
               “Nothing,” Michael sniffed roughly, replacing his jacket with another one of his own that he’d left in Max’s closet. “It’s all going according to plan, right?”
               “Yeah,” Max nodded, “so why do you look like you’re two seconds away from clocking me?”
               “What?” Michael looked over his shoulder with pursed lips, without actually looking at Max. “I’m not. It’s great, right? He invited you all by himself.”
               Max smiled to himself at the thought. “Yeah,” he said, his voice soft to his own ears.
               Michael finally met Max’s eyes for a long while, studying his expression. Then he turned, smiling with narrowed eyes. “Are you . . . you’re not . . .?”
               Max raised a brow, waiting for his brother to elaborate.
               “You’re not . . . starting to actually like Alex, are you?”
               Max’s eyes widened and he scoffed. He started to say that he absolutely wasn’t when he caught himself. He thought of Alex’s kind eyes and his laugh and the hurt in his voice when Michael ignored him. He thought Alex had had enough people dismissing him behind his back.
               “Of course I like him,” he said. “He’s nice, you know? There’s nothing wrong with him.”
               “Yeah,” Michael said with a nod, as if reassuring himself. “Yeah, I mean . . . you like him like you like Kyle, right?”
               Max hesitated. “Michael . . . do you like Alex?”
               “I love Alex,” he said at once. “Just not like that.”
               No, Max silently agreed. Not like that. Michael’s feelings seemed more . . . possessive, though he didn’t want to talk about things he wasn’t sure of. All he knew was that Michael wanted Alex to himself. He didn’t know how to tell him that that wouldn’t work with the plan.
               “I’m sure he just brought me along because he felt bad for me,” Max placated, though the idea made him want to curl up on his bed. “You know, you did bring me along for no reason.”
               “No,” Michael said with that same forced lightness, turning back to his clothes. “No, this is good. Like I said, it’s great! Alex is starting to want you along. The plan is working perfectly.”
               “Yeah,” Max muttered, noticing the way Michael roughly tugged his sleeves down. “Perfectly.”
               *
               “This is a bad idea,” Kyle said as soon as Alex had called to tell him his plans for tonight. “I think you’re forgiving him way too easily.”
               Alex’s phone sat on speaker on his nightstand. He sighed, fixing his hair so that it looked less like he’d walked through a hurricane, but the strands remained windswept and messy and he gave up.
               “He made a mistake,” Alex said for what felt like the millionth time. “Everyone makes mistakes.”
               “Not that kind of mistake!” Kyle argued, his frustration evident. “Alex, he invited Maria!” Alex flinched at the name and was glad his friend couldn’t see him. “That’s like if I invited Jared!”
               “Jared Wilson is a homophobic ass,” Alex argued at once, and calmed the edge in his voice. “It’s not the same thing.”
               “Both of them made life a lot harder for you when they realized you were gay.”
               To that, Alex had no response. He didn’t care. He loved Michael, and being angry with him felt wrong. He didn’t want it.
               He sat on his bed’s edge and played with the buttons on his black cardigan. It was new, something he wanted to wait to wear until he and Michael were alone, because Michael always liked hugging Alex as they walked and clinging to his side, and Alex had wanted Michael to feel soft and warm when he hugged him. It should bother him that he did so much of what he did with the worry of how Michael will take it, even though they’re not dating and could probably never date, but every so often, that traitorous bit of hope would claw its way to the surface and tell him that it could still happen.
               Maybe all it took was Michael knowing how he felt. It didn’t matter. Alex could never do it.
               “I don’t want to lose him,” he said quietly. Kyle didn’t answer. Alex half-wished that he hadn’t heard him, but he doubted it.
               Finally, Kyle sighed and said, “I know.” A pause, then, “What about Max?”
               Alex blinked. “Max?”
               “Yeah,” he said. “Seems like he really likes you.”
               Alex wanted to scoff, but what left his lips instead was, “Yeah?” Kyle chuckled and Alex blushed. “N-Not that I care! I just don’t want to get his hopes up for nothing.”
               He hummed. Alex hated how he could hear the amusement in his voice. “Okay, well,” he said, “don’t count him out just yet.”
               Alex was about to retort when a door suddenly slammed outside his bedroom. He heard the heavy footsteps of hunting boots and swallowed thickly. He tried to keep his light voice as he turned off his speaker and held the phone up, “Hey, I-I’ll see you at school, okay?”
               “Uh –” Kyle was clearly thrown off by the sudden change in conversation. “Sure, but are you –”
               Before he could finish his question, Alex hung up and put his phone aside. Then he caught himself in the mirror. His eyeliner. He was already wearing it.
               “Fuck,” he breathed.
               His heart hammered in his throat as the footsteps stopped outside his room and the door swung open. His father stood there.
               “Did I hear you talking to a boy?” he demanded.
               “N-No,” Alex said at once, cursing his stammering. “I mean, yes, but it was just Kyle.”
               Jesse hummed. Alex’s heart sunk into his stomach when Jesse closed the door behind him and stayed inside.
               “Dad,” he started, “really, I was just –”
               “Come here,” Jesse said with a wave of his fingers. When Alex didn’t move, Jesse fixed his son with his cold blue eyes. “Alex, come here.”
               Alex swallowed and resisted the urge to cower away. If his father hated disobedience, he hated a coward more. So Alex marched up to him swiftly as he was trained to do, his shoulders straight despite his lowered eyes, and the second he was close enough, Jesse grabbed his face in one hand, his grip painful.
               “What is that,” he said coldly, “on your eyes?”
               Alex clenched his jaw, trying not to whimper even as his dad’s hand nearly broke his jaw. Even as he knew what was coming. Not for the first time, as his fingers trembled on his dad’s wrist, he wished Michael could be here to protect him.
               *
               Max was in Alex’s class, and it was rare that a Manes was late, but Alex didn’t show up until halfway through the first lecture. He had a black sweater on with a collar that hid most of his chin and long sleeves that fell past his fingers, despite the fairly warm weather. His arms were stiff at his side, and his eyeliner was smudged a little bit.
               The math teacher said nothing to his most brilliant student about being late, and just gestured at him to take a seat. Max lifted his head off his desk and tried to catch Alex’s eyes, but Alex was staring straight ahead.
               Liz turned around in her seat, her brows furrowed. Max didn’t hear her murmurs, but whatever she said, Alex merely nodded once in response, his smile small. Liz didn’t look reassured, and Max realized he was inching out of his seat.
               “Yes, Mr. Evans?” the teacher said.
               “Uh – nothing, sir,” Max said and sat back down. “Sorry.”
               Some of the other students snickered, but Max didn’t care, because at least Liz was looking at him. He swallowed and pointed at Alex, the silent message clear. Liz nudged Alex’s arm softly and gestured with her chin at Max. Alex looked over.
               Max didn’t know what to do but raise his hand in a little wave. Alex just looked away again, his shoulders scrunched as he almost folded in on himself. He looked out the window and didn’t seem to pay attention to another word of the lecture.
               Max tried to catch Alex in the hall in between classes, to ask him if he was all right, but Alex just shrunk away from him.
               “I’m fine,” he muttered.
               “Alex, wait a second,” Max tried, instinctively reaching for his wrist.
               He’d barely touched him when Alex flinched away. “Don’t do that!” he snapped, making the entire hallway of students stop and turn to stare. Alex looked furious and terrified all at once. “Don’t ever, ever grab me!”
               Max stood frozen with his hand outstretched, stunned, and the hall filled with a heavy, tense silence. Alex didn’t seem to care. He kept glaring at Max a moment longer, his breathing quick like he was on the verge of crying, and he whipped around to where a startled and concerned Liz was ready to guide him away.
               Murmurs broke out over the crowd, and Max heard more than a few people call Alex a number of things, all ranging from “freak” to “psycho,” before they came to check that Max was okay after that outburst. Max could only be offended.
               Alex was clearly suffering with something, didn’t anyone notice or care?
               When Max got to lunch, Isobel was already standing. She looked as she rarely did; her bright smile gone, replaced with a solemn frown. “Hey,” she tugged Max down as soon as she caught sight of him. “What happened with Alex in the hallway? Rosa said he suddenly started screaming at you?”
               Max shook his head. “Something’s wrong with him,” he said.
               Isobel’s frown deepened. “Hey, don’t say that, you don’t know what could be –”
               “No,” Max cut her off, indignant that she could assume he meant the worst. “I mean, something’s wrong with him, like something must’ve happened. He’s usually a lot nicer. And he showed up late. He never shows up late.”
               Isobel rubbed her jaw as she looked over at Alex’s table where both Liz and Kyle were encouraging him to eat something, the concern evident on their faces.
               “I mean, it’s not exactly new, right?” she muttered. “He’s freaked out like this before.”
               Max pursed his lips. Alex had seemed so excited yesterday when Michael had asked him to the fair. What could’ve happened from then till now? Had Michael done something? No, he would’ve warned Max.
               Then he remembered something Michael had told him about Jesse Manes . . .
               His shoulders fell. “Shit.”
               Isobel seemed to realize he’d figured it out, and eagerly asked, “What? What is it?”
               Max hesitated. “You can’t tell anyone. I mean, not even the Ortechos. No one, Isobel.”
               “My lips are sealed,” she quickly promised.
               Max licked his lips. “Well, remember how nervous he was when I offered to walk him home the other night?”
               “Yeah?”
               “Michael told me about his dad,” he said. “Apparently, he really, really doesn’t want his son to be gay.”
               Isobel’s eyes widened with horror. “Alex is scared of his dad?”
               “He’s wearing long sleeves, and he’s sweating through it,” Max said darkly by way of saying what he didn’t want to outright.
               Isobel gasped. “You think he . . . hits him?”
               Max shook his head, not wanting to believe that Alex had that kind of father, but . . . “I’ve never heard Michael so unnerved by someone outside of his foster parents.”
               “Oh my god,” Isobel whispered, her wide, glassy eyes turning to Alex who was sitting slumped in his chair as if allowing himself a few seconds to stop pretending he was fine. “Oh my god,” she started to stand, to go over to him, but Max grabbed her arm and sat her back down.
               “Don’t,” he warned. “Michael didn’t want to tell me, and I doubt Alex wants anyone to know.”
               “He’s beating him!” Isobel whisper-yelled through grit teeth. “We – we have to tell somebody!”
               “Not if Alex doesn’t want us to,” Max argued.
               “Max!”
               “He has brothers,” Max said, and Isobel fell silent. “The last thing Alex needs right now is for the only family he has to hate him because they think he told on their dad. Not if Alex doesn’t want us to.”
               Isobel clenched her jaw, her eyes miserable, and she nodded. It was clearly the last thing she wanted to do.
               “I don’t know how you can bear it,” she breathed, looking over to Alex like she wanted nothing more than to hug and protect him. “He’s so sweet, I don’t know how you can bear it.”
               Isobel, of course, couldn’t see Max’s clenched, trembling fists beneath the table as he watched Alex start to eat despite himself, start to smile like he was so used to the beatings that he’d learned to work past them after a while, wondering the exact same thing.
                 Technically, Michael’s official house was an airstream at the junkyard where old man Sanders had let him stay while he had a part time job after school. Max wished Alex hadn’t known the whole story because then at least, as they went together to the auto shop, Max would have something to say instead of wallowing in the awkward silence between them.
               In fact, awkward wasn’t really the right word. Heavy seemed more appropriate.
               The weather was cooling quickly, making it more bearable for Alex’s sweater. Max half-wondered what Alex would do if he reached down and looked for his fingers underneath the sleeves.
               “I’m sorry,” Alex mumbled, and Max snapped out of his thoughts. Alex had said nothing on the drive over, nodding quietly in thanks when Max had offered to drive him as they were both going together, but his eyes were on the ground now.
               He looked so shy for once that Max was caught off guard.
               “Huh?”
               “For yelling at you,” he went on, even more quiet. “I didn’t mean to . . . I just don’t like . . .”
               “Being grabbed,” Max finished. He stopped, and Alex did the same. “Alex, I would never hurt you, okay? I wouldn’t.”
               Alex wouldn’t look at Max, but Max could see his breathing getting quicker, his jaw clenching tighter and tighter.
               “What did Michael tell you?”
               Max tried to school his features. “Nothing.”
               He was sure Alex would snap at him, would turn right around and cut off his friendship with both him and Michael. Instead, he scoffed wearily. “You’re just as bad a liar as he is.”
               Raising his chin and pretending that it didn’t cause him pain to fix the bag on his shoulder, Alex forged on ahead. “I don’t need anyone’s pity.”
               Max followed in silence, but only for a minute. “My mom knows someone in the state council, I could talk to her –”
               Alex whipped around, his eyes wide and terrified. “Don’t! You can’t, Max, please, don’t ever –”
               “Okay!” Max took Alex’s hands to calm him. He was rambling, his fingers shaking. “Okay, I – I won’t, Alex, calm down.” When Alex had been reduced to a trembling figure, Max pulled him in gently against him. “I won’t tell, I promise. Just calm down, okay? Please, calm down.”
               Max’s chin was on Alex’s head. He had a hand in Alex’s hair – it was so much softer than he could’ve imagined – his other hand running up and down his back, trying not to scare him again with any sudden movements.
               “It’s just me,” Alex croaked out against Max’s chest. “It’s only me. Because I’m . . .” He shook his head. “He doesn’t hurt them. They – they don’t care about enlisting. They’re happy to do it. I don’t want to ruin their lives, please –”
               “Okay,” Max whispered into Alex’s hair. He smelled like vanilla. “Okay, Alex, it’s okay. I won’t tell, I promise. I promise.”
               They stood there like that for a long time, Max’s fingers raking through Alex’s hair, taking in the way each strand felt against his fingers. He felt the strong muscles of Alex’s back even through his sweater. He couldn’t help it. Everything about Alex was a mystery, and the more he uncovered, the more he wanted to know.
               A breath escaped his lips, and Alex tensed. He stepped back, unwilling to look at Max, his face tinged pink.
               “S-Sorry,” he murmured.
               Max nodded, putting his hands in his back pockets to keep from reaching out for him again. “Me, too. It’s – uh . . . been a long couple of days.”
               Alex sighed, rubbing his face with one hand. Max resisted the urge to ask how bad the pain was underneath the sweater, but if he was being honest, he didn’t think either of them wanted the answer to that question. So he nudged his head towards Michael’s trailer, and waited for Alex to lead the way.
               “What’s your favorite fair treat?” Max asked before they could get to the door. He didn’t know why, but he wanted just a few more seconds before Michael joined them.
               “What?”
               “Fair treat,” he repeated. “You know, they sell a lot of snacks at fairs. They’ll be selling a lot tonight. Which one do you like best?”
               “Uh . . .” Alex thought about it. “Cotton candy? I guess? The, you know, big swirls?”
               “Okay,” Max nodded, grinning. “Then I’ll buy you the biggest swirl they have.”
               Alex’s eyes widened and he turned pinker. It was so cute that Max had to giggle.
               “I have my own money.”
               “So?” Max shrugged. “I want to get you something. I thought about winning you a prize during one of the games, but that feels a little cliché, you know?”
               Alex opened and closed his mouth on several sentences, and Max wondered if Michael had ever offered to buy him anything with the promise that it meant something more.
               Alex looked away with a shake of his head. “You’re silly,” he muttered, and opened the door, climbing inside.
               Max followed, still grinning. They found Michael dressed and looking for the keys to his truck.
               “Hey!” Alex said a little breathlessly. “You ready to go?”
               Michael froze, looking over his shoulder. Max’s smile fell at once. Oh no . . .
               “Crap,” he said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “Crap, we said we were going to the fair tonight!”
               Another act, Max thought. “Michael,” he said quietly, a private warning, “today really isn’t the day to –”
               “I don’t get it,” Alex cut him off, his brows furrowed. “If you – if you forgot about the fair tonight, then why’re you in such a hurry to leave?”
               Michael shrugged, glanced at Max, and said, “I have a date.”
               Alex was silent a moment. “You . . . have a date.”
               “Yeah.”
               “But –” Alex shook his head. “The fair was your idea. Why’d you ask me to come with you if you knew you were going to be busy?”
               “I didn’t know when I asked you,” Michael said, and Alex stared. Despite his hidden fingers, Max did not miss the way they curled to fists.
               “So you –” Alex cut himself off abruptly, smiling incredulously, like he couldn’t believe his other half had stooped so low. “You made plans with someone else when you already had plans with me?”
               “Alex,” he huffed, exasperated. “Are you gonna get like this every time I’m meeting someone? A very attractive friend asked me out tonight, I said yes.”
               “But you’re my friend, too,” Alex argued. “When we make promises to each other, we’re supposed to follow through on them, it shouldn’t matter if you have a ton of friends or not.”
               “Well, it’s not my fault you don’t have any friends, Alex.”
               “Michael!” Max stepped forward, but Alex held a hand up. He didn’t look tense or frozen to the spot. He looked like every horrible thought that had ever crossed his mind about his friendship with Michael, every doubt that had ever haunted him, every fear of being unwanted or not good enough, it was all coming true.
               To Alex, Michael didn’t consider him worth anything.
               To Alex, Michael wasn’t protecting their friendship. He was shattering it beyond repair.
               He looked resigned and exhausted. Michael seemed to realize that too late.
               “W-Wait,” he tried, “I didn’t – I didn’t mean –”
               “You’re my friend,” Alex quietly defended. “You’re . . . you’re my . . .” He shook his head, like it didn’t matter anymore. He turned to Max. “D-Do you – uh – do you still want to come with me? To the – the fair?”
               He was clearly terrified, clearly unwilling to go at all if Michael didn’t want to, but wanting to prove that he was unhurt. That he wouldn’t break. Max was in awe of his courage.
               “I was just going to ask you the same thing,” Max said.
               A brief, barely-there smile tugged at Alex’s lips before it was gone. Without another word or glance at Michael, he left. Michael stared at the open door like he wasn’t even in the room, like he was numb and out of body. He’d gone too far this time.
               Max shook his head. “You were so terrified that he was in love with you . . . that you decided to make him hate you instead.”
               “I told you,” Michael said hoarsely, his eyes filling with tears. “He’ll only hate me for a little bit.”
               “And you’re willing to bet on that?” Max tilted his head. He promised Alex he wouldn’t tell anyone else what his father had done to him, but he leaned in anyway and said, “Because if I were you, I would think a little harder instead about why he’s wearing such a long sweater near the end of spring.”
               And with those final words, Max turned and left, catching only the realization in Michael’s eyes before he shut the door behind him. Alex was already in the car, hugging his arms and staring out the window.
               Max got in and shut the door. He exhaled slowly, “Alex –”
               “Just drive,” Alex said hoarsely, like he’d been crying for hours though his eyes were dry. “Please just drive.”
               Max swallowed and turned on the ignition. He didn’t want to be a hero here. He didn’t feel like one. The only reason Michael had hurt Alex this badly at all was so that he could swoop in. But this seemed like too high a cost.
               It didn’t matter in the end. Max did as Alex wanted, and drove.
                 The fairy lights were already strung up when Max and Alex got to the fair, plenty of booths already up with lanterns lighting the way, showering everything in gold. It looked more like a market with a few chances for the kids to win toys, but Max watched as Alex eyed each booth and necklace and dress like they were the only good parts of a bad memory.
               “My mom used to bring us here a lot,” he said, “back when she was around.”
               “When did she die?” Max asked quietly.
               “She didn’t,” Alex said simply. “She left. But this fair . . . it’s my favorite time of the year. Michael knew that.”
               “Alex,” Max shook his head. “I’m sure . . . I’m sure he had a reason for what he did.”
               Alex scoffed, but the press of his lips was both sad and sincere. “I know he did. But god, what could be worth all this?” he gestured at his own face, the exhaustion and misery there. “I can usually read him, but this time I just . . . can’t. I hate not knowing.”
               Max thought about that, and realized he was the same way when it had to do with someone he loved. How was he going to save someone who didn’t want to be saved?
               “Tell me something you do know,” he offered. “You said your brothers are happy to enlist. Does your dad make them all?”
               “No,” Alex sniffled. “No, dad would never make any of us enlist. He pushes it hard, and all the time, but . . . no, if you don’t want to enlist, then just don’t bother coming back home, you know?”
               Max hesitated. “Have you ever . . .?”
               He expected Alex to laugh it off or be indignant about anyone even considering that he would ever enlist, but he only sighed and confessed, “Sometimes.”
               Max stared. “S-Seriously?”
               Alex shook his head, smiling, and for once, he didn’t look sarcastic or amused. He just looked sad. “You don’t know what it’s like there. Or how bad it gets, and – and sometimes I think . . . I couldn’t afford a place of my own. I could escape him though. I could rise in ranks, I could beat him –”
               “Beat him some other way!” Max argued, and a few heads turned to look. Alex didn’t look like he cared, he never did, but Max stepped closer. “You can’t enlist, Alex.”
               Alex looked away. “I said I thought about it, okay? Only when things get really, really bad. It doesn’t mean I’ll do it. I’ll find some other way.”
               He didn’t sound sure, but Max couldn’t have been more sure of his abilities and talent. Alex was the strongest and smartest person he knew, he could easily make it out there. And what if . . . what if he had Max there with him? Supporting him? Helping him? The two of them together in a small apartment in New York or something –
               Max shut his eyes. He wasn’t supposed to think like that. This wasn’t supposed to be long-term. Soon enough, Michael would tell him the truth, and it would all be over. Alex might even hate him for it. He didn’t want to think about that though, so he bought Alex the biggest blue cotton candy swirl, got one for himself, and laughed with Alex about the sizes.
               About an hour in, Alex seemed to really be having a lot of fun. He was laughing at Max’s stupid jokes and tugging on his arm to show him little ceramic toys for sale and even a small aquamarine necklace that glittered in the moonlight with a gold chain so thin it was almost a silk thread.
               When Alex wasn’t looking, Max bought the necklace, and snuck up behind him, letting it rest in the dip of his collarbone.
               “W-What –”
               “For you,” Max said.
               Alex touched the stone, still stunned. “Max, I’m not – I’m uncomfortable accepting so many gifts from people.”
               “I’m not just people though,” Max said simply. “I’m your . . .” he caught himself, “f-friend.”
               Alex looked at him. Max may have been wrong, but he could’ve sworn Alex had seemed disappointed for a moment at the use of the word friend.
               “R-Right,” he murmured. “Still, no more gifts, okay?”
               “No promises,” Max grinned, and his heart jumped when Alex’s face turned that same shade of pink. He was starting to wonder if he could turn it any darker when Alex glanced up and froze.
               “Oh my god,” he breathed.
               “What?” Max followed his gaze, and understood what it was that had terrified him. Making their way towards them was some man in uniform, and beside him was Jesse Manes, hands folded behind his back with his medals shining on his uniform jacket, smiling at booths and laughing with children who ran past.
               That, Max realized, was the most frightening part. Who would believe Alex if he told them their beloved sergeant was a monster?
               Alex stepped back, already trembling. He turned, but the crowd had gathered around them. Even if he stood in the shadows outside the lanterns’ light, he was still visible to anyone passing by, especially if his dad was looking through the booths. He would see Alex here, and just the implication that he was here with Max would get him hurt again.
               Alex hugged himself. “Think, Alex,” he whispered to himself, looking around frantically for a hiding spot. “Think.”
               Max looked back at Jesse. He was getting closer. He couldn’t stand seeing the usually intimidating Alex so frightened now. He had to protect him.
               He took Alex’s hand in his own and pulled him into the shadows, up against a booth. “Is your dad uncomfortable with PDA?”
               “What?”
               “Is he?”
               “Uh – yeah!” Alex shook his head, confused. “He hates it –”
               “Good,” Max breathed, taking Alex’s face in his hands, and before Alex could ask what he was doing, Max closed the distance between them and covered Alex’s mouth with his own. Alex stood frozen against him, but Max wouldn’t pull away, his body blocking Alex’s from sight.
               Half of him was silently urging Alex to play along, if only long enough to get his father’s attention away, but as Alex whimpered softly against his lips, his body melting against Max’s, his hands coming up to Max’s chest, clutching his shirt, Max suddenly forgot all about Jesse Manes.
               He forgot about the fair, he forgot about the booths around him, the crowd of people. He couldn’t think of anything but how soft Alex’s lips were, how perfectly he fit in Max’s arms. Max wanted to taste more of him, so he slipped his tongue in. Alex moaned, pressing unbearably close, and Max could feel him. His toned chest, his flat stomach.
               Max had never wanted to feel another man’s chest until this moment, to claw down his stomach, to feel the muscles of his back. Max tilted his head, bringing his hand around the nape of Alex’s neck and reaching his fingers through his hair, tugging a little on the strands.
               Alex’s hands came up to Max’s face, one hand reaching into his hair. Max wanted to tilt his head, to deepen the kiss, to put his hands up Alex’s shirt and feel his skin. He wondered if it was as sexy as the rest of him – he knew it had to be – and his hand had just fallen to Alex’s hip, tugging at the hem of his sweater, when he heard someone behind him scoff –
               “Ugh, disgusting,” a voice said, and Max snapped out of his thoughts.
               He pulled away, pressing his forehead to Alex’s, the both of them panting heavily. Alex’s eyes were closed, and Max took the opportunity to trace his deeply red cheeks with the tips of his fingers, his rosy, kiss-swollen lips.
               “Wow,” he breathed.
               “Yeah,” Alex swallowed and opened his eyes. They fluttered again as Max traced his thumb across his lips for the second time. “That – that was –”
               “Wow,” Max finished.
               Alex huffed a breathless chuckle. “Are you okay?”
               Max shook his head. “Wow.”
               Alex started to laugh, but seemed to remember they were supposed to be hiding. He covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes wide. Max wanted to hear his laugh, so he looked over his shoulder for any sign of Alex’s dad, but he was so far down the path that by the time Max had tilted his chin up to get a better look, Jesse Manes and his friend were completely gone.
               When he nodded to Alex, Alex’s grin widened and he laughed happily into the night. He jumped into Max’s arms, his own wrapped around Max’s shoulders.
               “Thank you!” Alex said into his shoulder, his voice muffled and filling Max’s chest with butterflies. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He heaved a deep sigh, probably the deepest he’d had in a while. “Thank you, Max.”
               Max wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist, keeping him close and steady against him. In the back of his mind, he could hear Michael’s one, big warning about Alex.
               “Don’t kiss him.”
               But now, in this moment, as he could still feel Alex’s soft, warm lips against his own, as he could hear his moans and smell his sweet scent, he couldn’t remember why.
               He smiled into the crook of Alex’s neck and said, “You’re welcome, Manes.”
It’s finally here! Please please please comment and reblog/share if you enjoyed reading even a little bit, it always makes the world of a difference 💗 I’m going to bed.
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duelistkingdom · 3 years
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careless man’s careful daughter
mai's parents divorced when she was young. she meets jonouchi, a sweet man working part time waiting tables to put himself through college. he understands her like no one else.
a t rated polarshipping fic based on “mine” by taylor swift. once again, an au where duel monsters is just a popular card game. can be read on ao3 by clicking here.
if you like my work, considering buying me a kofi.
Mai Kujaku had never really believed in love. She had no reason to, really. All she’d ever seen of love was that it broke and ended and she was done with it. In fact, Mai often wondered why anyone would bother with love if it never lasts. That was, of course, until she just happened to stumble across one Katsuya Jonouchi, a university student that was working part time waiting tables specifically with the intention of making his own way in life. He’d left a small town with the intention of making it big and never looked back. She’d made the mistake of letting him start a conversation with her and eventually she found herself part of his study group. It was alright, she supposed. There was no risk of falling if they just remained friends.
He already knew up front that she was a flight risk and Mai preferred it that way. He knew that Mai was not going to fall in love. Unfortunately for Mai, love did not decide when someone fell. Love came in swinging and she found herself wanting to be around Jonouchi more and more. He dragged her in and she found herself spending the night at his place one night. From there, everything just seemed to click together just a little too fast. “Can you believe it,” Mai asked one day while they were laying on the couch.
“Believe what?”
Of course Mai didn’t really have an answer for his question right back at her. She could see it: the exact moment he’d dragged her into believing in love again. “I mean, do you remember how this all started,” Mai said, trying her best to explain herself. “We were sitting right by the water and you just... you put your arm around me for the first time.”
Jonouchi smiled at the memory. Of course he remembered that. It had been the bravest thing he’d ever done, taking a risk like that. He knew that Mai could’ve easily told him go fuck himself and ruined the best friendship he’d ever had. Except... she didn’t. She didn’t tell him to go fuck himself. “Of course I remember that,” he said softly. “It was one of the best days of my life.”
It was just one of those things, Mai supposed. Jonouchi had decided to show her around Domino City and told her all about the risk he took by coming here for school. He’d lived in Domino for far longer than she had and she realized that he made her want to put down roots for once. She’d always just moved on when she got bored of a place and yet... nothing about Domino was boring. She realized that Domino had its hooks in her when his friends had become her friends. She’d reflected a lot on that date that he took her on and how it’d been so brave of him to be willingly to place his feelings out there.
Really, Jonouchi never shied away from his feelings. He claimed his best friend Yugi had taught him that there was no shame in expressing his feelings and well, Mai found herself starting to believe that. None of his friends ever judged her for any of her emotions, really. When she was scared, when she was upset, when she was nervous... none of them seemed like shameful emotions anymore. She felt lighter knowing that she was in a judgement free zone. In many ways, she would secretly describe it as Jonouchi had made a rebel out of a careless man’s careful daughter.
She had spent so long carefully guarding her emotions that she had thought were bad or even wrong to have. Instead, now, she told everything to Jonouchi and his friends. When she felt blue, she knew she could dial up Anzu and his sister, Shizuka, for a girl’s night of complaining over wine and watching TV together. When she felt anxious, she could call Yugi and Atem and talk with them about her fears about the future. When she was angry, she could call Honda and they’d go to the gym to punch some punching bags together. It was absolutely strange to not just have this relationship with Jonouchi, but a relationship with everyone else as a result. In many ways, she believed that Jonouchi was the best thing that’s ever been hers.
Flash forward months later and Mai was properly integrated into Domino. She’d found a new casino job and had an apartment of her own. As far as she was concerned, this was a sign that she was willing to take on the world with Jonouchi. They were going to take on everything together, actually. And she now had a drawer of her things at his place. For once, she let all her walls come crumbling right down and let him in. He’d learned all her secrets and figured out why she was guarded. Even still, Mai sometimes had doubts still. How could she believe anything this good would ever last when she had no proof it would?
She couldn’t understand how Jonouchi maintained faith the way he did. There was really no other way of putting it: Jonouchi had faith in them. “How can you be so certain that we just... won’t make our parents mistakes,” Mai had asked one day, on the verge of tears. “I just... sometimes I think about how both of us have divorced parents and both of us know that relationships can end. How can you be so sure?”
“But Mai, that's our parents. That's not us,” Jonouchi said fiercely, seemingly full of faith that Mai couldn’t possibly begin to understand. That was the thing about Jonouchi: he always seemed to have faith even when he had no reason to have faith. And Mai... well, she liked that about him. “I swear to you, I'll never make the mistakes my father made and I'll trust that you'll never make your parents mistakes.”
It didn’t matter to Jonouchi that they had bills to pay and had nothing figured out. And yet, Mai admired that so much. Some days it was so hard for her to keep faith, though. And as nice as Jonouchi’s reassurances were, they weren’t always helpful. So instead on those days, she focused on everything that went right with their relationship. What she thought about was all the times Jonouchi showed her new places in Domino and laughing with their friends. She thought about the inherent bravery in the very first time he put his arm around her and how easily he had made a rebel out of a careless man’s careful daughter. In many ways, the memories were exactly what she needed more than words sometimes.
What she needed was to hold on to every single good memory and hold them tight to her chest. How, exactly a year after their first date, she’d allowed herself to believe for the first time that love could actually last and willingly opened herself to saying “I love you” to him. She’d been so excited when he had said it back and admitted that he wanted to say it first. He’d claimed the only reason he hadn’t was because he didn’t want to make her feel pressured into saying something she didn’t mean. In that moment, she felt safer than she’d ever thought possible.
Mai had assumed that meant that they now were good forever. She’d never had a long term relationship before and so one night, when they got into a fight, she had no blueprint for how an argument was supposed to go in a relationship. She’d lost tracked of the thread of what started the argument hours ago and by 2:30 am, she was fed up. It felt like everything was slipping right out of her hands and she couldn’t take it anymore. As much as she wanted to fix this, she wasn’t sure how to. Her parents had offered no blueprint because when they fought, it never resolved. And it kept coming back up every single fight and she had a sudden wave of anxiety taking over. Was this how it started?
Was this how her parents fell apart too? Did they once love each like she and Jonouchi do? Suddenly she was crying and she ran out of the apartment, desperate to prevent Jonouchi from breaking things off. She hadn’t realized it was raining and in all honesty, she didn’t care. She didn’t care as long as some distance was put between her and the problem. No, that wasn’t fair. Jonouchi wasn’t the problem here. She was. She was such a mess that she wasn’t sure why Jonouchi continued to bother with her at all. As far as she could tell, he wasn’t letting his issues bog him down. He did everything right and she... she just kept screwing up. Even now, she’d ruined the one good thing that she’d ever had. She was suddenly very grateful for the rain because if nothing else, strangers wouldn’t ask about why she was crying.
To her great surprise, Jonouchi had followed her out into the street. She could barely make out the details of his face in the streetlight and that made it hard to read his expression. All she could do was brace herself for the inevitable goodbye because that was all she’d ever known. “I know, it’s my fault,” she said quickly, desperate to soften the blow. “I just... don’t know when to stop picking, okay?”
Jonouchi had taken her hand and she felt a pounding in her chest. She’d never dealt with a break up before and she didn’t know how to deal with it. She’d never let anyone get in this deep with her and now Jonouchi had wormed his way in to her heart. “I know this,” he said and he sounded a little impatient. “But really, it’s not just your fault. I should’ve made an attempt to better see your side. I’m sorry that I failed you there.”
Her eyes went wide. “Wha – what are you talking about,” she managed to stumble out through her haze of confusion. Wasn’t he breaking up with her? Wasn’t that what this was? “I was totally unreasonable! God, I... I was a horrendous bitch to you when you were just trying to be helpful. I.. I don’t even know why you would bother with me.”
To this, Jonouchi responds by moving to cup her cheeks and his features came into sharp relief. Mai could actually see the wide eyed concern on his face. “Mai, I’ll never leave you alone,” he said softly, so full of love that Mai almost sobbed. Out of all the things he could’ve said, this was not what she was expecting. In fact... she was starting to suspect that this wasn’t the break-up she thought it was. “I remember how we felt on our first date, remember? I took you around Domino and we wound up sitting by the water and I looked over at you and I just... knew then that I would be so lucky to call you my girlfriend. Every time I look at you, it’s like the first time. I know that your parents suck, but god... I fell in love with a careless man’s careful daughter and she is the best thing that’s ever been mine.”
Mai could only respond with a soft whisper of his name and his lips were against hers in the pouring rain. She’d never told him how she often felt like he’d made a rebel out of a careless man’s careful daughter and yet here he was, completely on the same wavelength as her. “You are the best thing that’s ever been mine,” she said softly as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. There was a future she could look forward to with Jonouchi. She was his and he was hers, it was as simple as that. He took her hand to walk her back to their apartment and once again, she felt that surge of love and protection only he could provide. She could believe they were going to make it.
She could see it now.
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