#sorry if their designs are not too accurate I sketched this by memory half asleep in bed at 1am | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hualianff · 3 years

Text

Distant Faces

The Lonely (Instrumental) – Christina Perri

After much deliberation, HC finally decides what to give XL on his birthday: a painted portrait of XL and his parents during Xianle’s most prosperous days. Even though HC tries his best not to remember his life during those times, he knows XL loved his parents despite how everything turned out.

It’s been over 800 years, after all.

XL had offhandedly mentioned he can’t even remember the details of his parents’ faces anymore. The way his mother’s eyes shone chocolate brown in the sunlight; the way his father scowled in disapproval but never in a malicious manner. The way his mother held him when he felt sad, let him cry on her shoulder. The way his father looked proudly upon XL as his son.

Admittedly, XL had a complex relationship with his father. They didn’t always see eye-to-eye, especially towards Xianle’s inevitable deterioration. XL can cry because he misses his mother, but with his father, it’s more than that.

It’s regret.

It’s shame.

It’s anguish for the tension that kept his father at a distance that now seems insignificant.

But being the kind of person XL is, he’d rather remember the positive aspects of his relationship with his parents than the hardships.

Especially because he feels like he failed them in the end.

HC cannot relate to XL’s experience of having loving parents who genuinely cared for him, much less the loss of such parents. An abandoned child like himself had to bear the burden of living from a young age. HC did not grow up nurtured or fawned over; HC endured his cruel existence by looking after himself.

After meeting XL again after his third ascension, HC now knows what it’s like to be loved–fiercely and unconditionally. To imagine losing XL gives HC a palpable semblance of what XL felt when he woke up completely alone on the day his parents passed. Over the decades, XL has briefly talked about that day, though never in full detail. Partially because XL’s mind has blocked out the trauma, but it is also simply too painful to remember.

Originally, HC heavily debated whether gifting his husband the portrait was even a good idea. The last thing he would want to do is upset or offend XL. HC wasn’t even sure he could properly replicate the king and queen’s faces.

Ultimately, HC decided to go through with his plan. He hopes that if anything, this painting can help XL recall his parents’ faces and the fond memories he had with them. Perhaps it could serve as an outlet for healing from the years XL suffered on his own. Everything HC does is for the happiness of his husband.

After going through one of his earliest memories via his butterflies, HC spent days sketching, outlining, and painting the portrait. He miraculously managed to portray the details as accurately as possible—MQ and FX themselves confirmed. The two heavenly officials failed to hide their teary eyes, MQ abruptly turning away while FX furiously rubbed at his cheeks. It’s one of the few instances HC holds his tongue when around the two martial gods.

There is no shortage of people who celebrate XL’s birthday when it arrives—heavenly officials, Ghost City, and worshippers alike. HC spends the entire day by his husband’s side, visiting as many festivals to witness the joyous ceremonies. Worshippers place extra lavish offerings on their altars while XL’s friends personally deliver their gifts at Puqi Shrine. (The designated location for heavenly officials.)

Once it’s evening and the festivities have calmed down, only two remain inside Puqi Shrine. HC has taken the liberty to cook a quick meal for them to share. He ladles soup into XL’s bowl, then scoops rice topped with fried fish onto his plate.

“Thank you for making us dinner, San Lang. It looks delicious,” XL says, eyes sparkling. HC smiles warmly.

“I would be a fool to not spoil Gege with wonderful food, regardless if it’s his birthday or not,” HC solemnly says. “Though I do hope he enjoys the fish and soup.”

“There are no doubts about that,” XL replies before eagerly spooning some broth into his mouth. His eyes visibly widen as he sputters a bit, spoon lowering back into the bowl. “Oh, that’s hot!”

“Careful, gege. Allow this dutiful husband to blow on it.”

They finish eating with satisfied slurps and chewing, keeping casual conversation between bites. Before XL can get up to clear off the table, HC snaps his fingers, every dish already washed and placed back in the cabinets.

They are finally alone, energy spent and stomachs no longer empty. HC’s eyes shift to the corner of the room where a covered, flat object is propped against the wall.

“Gege, I have one last present for you.”

“That’s been here this whole time? Wow, it’s so big!”

HC doubts himself even as he hands over the wrapped gift. He watches with bated breath as XL carefully works open the covering with nimble fingers to reveal what’s inside.

Once XL sees the entire painting in all its glory, his hand flies over his mouth. His initial excited smile upon tearing away the wrapping paper is replaced with a tense frown, the type when someone is trying their best not to cry.

A ragged sob escapes his lips.

XL can’t stop staring at their faces—his parents’ faces—who he hasn’t seen in centuries. Who he never got to say goodbye to. He touches the canvas, paints dried and glossed over with a finishing product that gives the image a sleek sheen. He touches their familiar faces, pleasant smiles etched onto their lips, and then his own, placed between his father and mother, smiling widely: happy.

XL hugs the canvas to his body, closing his eyes, and cries his heart out.

HC’s heart shatters at the sight of XL breaking down, though it was almost a guaranteed reaction. He doesn’t hesitate to rush forward to embrace his beloved from behind, nuzzling against XL’s temple as his smaller body trembles uncontrollably. But before HC can express his pitiful apology, he hears quiet, repetitive mumbling among XL’s broken sobs.

“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you.”

“Gege-”

“Thank you.”

“-breathe, my love.”

“Thank you.”

Over and over again. Nearly nonsensical through ragged chokes and desperate gasps for air. HC shakes his head as tears wet his own cheeks, as if to say a thank you was not needed. He rubs up and down XL’s arm, occasionally pausing to massage his neck, anything to comfort him in his sorrow. XL suddenly grasps onto HC’s wrist, an anchor from the barrage of overwhelming emotions washed over him over the last few minutes.

HC eventually rasps out a remorseful, “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know what for exactly. For triggering XL’s tears. For the death of XL’s parents. For the loneliness and grief XL has experienced and never had the proper closure to.

XL continues weeping without a sound. For the fear of ruining the portrait with his tears, XL carefully places the painting on the table. He gives the painting one last lookover, lower lip wobbling. XL bites his lip to suppress the whimper threatening to erupt from his throat.

How could he ever forgive himself?

“Me too,” a son whispers to his parents.

Half an hour later, XL and HC are situated in their bed at Paradise Manor. Per XL’s request, HC skillfully hung the painting up next to their wedding portrait. Two pieces juxtapose two different eras; one, a window to the past; the other, a relic that will remain timeless.

Someday in the future, XL will have the strength to commemorate his parents with more than just a fleeting prayer. He will describe them with words and stories that do them justice. He will honor their legacy not by following in their footsteps (for they have long disappeared against the force of time), but by practicing the values they bestowed upon him while simultaneously learning from their faults and mistakes.

However, for tonight, HC wraps XL in a snug blanket burrito, holding XL from behind as the former prince mourns in silence. HC doesn’t push his beloved. He merely squeezes XL’s hand to remind him he has someone to listen to him. The last thing XL requests before falling asleep is another portrait of his parents, this time with both him and HC sat in the middle.

“Father...Mother...if you could see me now...see how happy I am,” XL tiredly thinks, sleep beckoning him to surrender to the darkness. “You guys really...would have loved him.”

(Special thanks to @no-one-says-hi and @iaintnosidekick for listening/helping)

(Inspiration)

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian #hualian au #xie lian #hua cheng #cerdrabbles #happy birthday Xie Lian !

74 notes · View notes

rhub4rb · 5 years

Text

Of Birds and Bugs

AO3

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7

-_-_-_-

Kim was stomping as he made his way out of the classroom, dragging a very reluctant Alix behind him.

It seemed she wanted to continue their talk with Adrien. With her fists.

Kim wanted to as well, there was no doubt about it. His whole body was screaming at him, telling him to turn around and beat some sense into the blonde boy.

But he also knew it wouldn't solve anything.

So, he dragged the ever fighting Alix with him back to their lunch table, where Max sat, working on his laptop.

When Kim brought them to a stop, Alix huffed and crossed her arms, not looking at either Kim or Max. Kim just rolled his eyes at her, turning his attention to Max instead.

"Hey Max, listen I know this might sound crazy, but-"

"You want help finding proof of Lila's deceit," Max pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a ray of light catching it, the glasses glinting and obscuring his eyes.

Kim just looked at him for a moment, mouth opening and closing, trying to find words to say.

"Only an idiot wouldn't be able to tell that Marinette was NeTi," Max said. "plus, I did some research into the history of her career, and none of Lila's claims can be backed up."

Max looked at the two, his brows furrowed.

"But I don't know how we should go about it. We have been rather... harsh, towards Marinette over the last couple of years."

All three of them looked down in shame.

"We should apologize to her," Alix said suddenly. "we can figure out the whole Lila thing later. For now, I think it'd be best if we let Mari know that we don't believe in Lila anymore."

The other two nodded.

"We should head over to the bakery once school ends, once we're there we will-"

"We're going now," Kim proclaimed, cutting Max off.

"Now? But school isn't over, we can't just-"

Kim ignored Max's qualms, lifting Max by the back of his shirt instead, Max scrambling to get his laptop in time, before it was out of his reach.

Kim threw Max over his shoulder, looking at Alix with a raised brow, as if asking if he needed to carry her too. Alix shook her head quickly, struggling and failing in trying to cover up her laughter.

The trio, or more accurately Kim and Alix, didn't pay their curious classmates any mind, Max flushing in embarrassment, only heading back into their classroom to get their book bags.

"You know, the others will be suspicious if we leave before school is over," Max noted from his position thrown over Kim's shoulder.

"Let them," was all Kim said in return.

Once they had packed up all of their stuff, they headed out of the school; not even telling the teacher, Max reminded them scandalized.

Mme. Bustier could live with three fewer students for the last couple of classes, they had more important things to take care of now.

Marinette was humming along to her practice track while she was writing down notes for her design.

She was mostly finished with the final sketch, and Marinette wondered if it would be too early to already buy the fabric she needed.

She checked her calendar for when the recording of the new music video was and decided that maybe it would be a good idea to buy the fabric now.

If Marinette had been to school that day, she probably would have asked her manager to help her buy it, but seeing as she had decided to take the day off, she had plenty of time to find the fabric she needed on her own.

Marinette caught sight of herself in her mirror and stopped in her tracks. She brought a hand up to one of her pigtails, and Tikki flew up to her shoulder, looking at Marinette quizzically in the mirror.

"Marinette?" Tikki asked curiously.

"Maybe it's about time for a change," Marinette mused.

The pigtails, for better or worse, felt like something connected to her classmates. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, Marinette held fond memories of Alya brushing her hair out and tying it back up, playing and experimenting with different styles. But the new song and mini-album truly felt like the end of an era.

Marinette had called the mini-album that for a reason.

So maybe it was about time that she changed the old pigtails up for something new. She didn't want it to be a simple change though, like tying it up differently or keeping it down.

Marinette thought briefly about asking Alix for advice; her hair had always been a bit more on the wild side.

But Alix and Marinette weren't friends, hadn't been for a long time. Then again, Marinette thought as her mind drifted to the class that morning, maybe that would be changing soon.

Marinette didn't expect to actually see Alix once she took her eyes off of her reflection, and she positively shrieked as she finally realized Alix was there.

Marinette hadn't even noticed how Tikki had hid only moments before, and she looked around her room in disgruntlement. Marinette turned off the music, glaring half-heartedly as Alix started cackling.

"Sorry, sorry Marinette, I just-" Alix kept cutting herself off, trying to catch her breath while still laughing. "Oh god you should have seen your face!"

Marinette waited for Alix to have laughed it out, eyebrow raised, hands on her cocked hips.

"Is it safe for us to come up?" Kim's voice rang from downstairs.

Alix looked at Marinette, as if to ask for permission, and Marinette very confusedly nodded.

"Yeah it's alright, I just, the look on Marinette's face was priceless."

Marinette shrunk in on herself, as if to protect herself from Alix and what Alix could possibly say to make the day worse.

"Wait- no- I'm sorry I didn't mean it like that-"

Kim came up to the room, followed closely by Max.

"We've hardly even stepped foot inside and you've already scared her?" Max asks in disbelief.

"I didn't mean to, I swear!"

Marinette looked at the trio with furrowed brows, slowly uncurling from herself.

"Why are you all here?" Marinette's voice shook, and she reminded herself to calm down before an Akuma would come.

It was quiet for a few moments, as the three of them looked at each other, probably trying to figure out who should tell her.

Kim was the one who spoke up.

"We know that Lila is a liar."

Marinette froze, eyes wide and mouth agape as she looked at her classmates.

"What..." Her voice was faint, and Marinette wasn't entirely sure she actually said anything.

"We figured it out after this morning," Kim pressed on. "We knew that you were NeTi, and Lila clearly made a jab at you. We looked into it more during class and..."

They all looked down.

"We are so sorry, Marinette," Alix said. "We should have believed you before when Lila first came but we-"

Alix was cut off as Marinette flung herself at the three, crushing them in a hug.

"Thank you, thank you so much," she sobbed.

The trio looked at each other, over Marinette, before they all returned the hug.

"I've missed you all so much," her voice cracked. "I didn't know what to do."

Kim started making shushing noises, hoping to calm Marinette down. Maybe she was crying happy tears right now, but he was still scared an Akuma would come.

It took a bit, but eventually, Marinette was coherent enough to guide them all over to her chaise, where she took a seat.

Alix sat down next to her, and so did Max, Kim taking a seat on the floor in front of them.

The trio shared a look before turning their attention back to Marinette.

"We also know that Adrien is in on it."

Marinette froze. She looked at all of them, seeing the question on all of their minds. She sighed.

"It... It's complicated." Marinette settled on.

"Com- Marinette he knew and didn't do anything to help you!" Kim exclaimed.

"We just... didn't want Lila to get akumatized again." Marinette looked down in her lap, fiddling with her fingers.

"He's letting Lila manipulate all of us," Alix said.

"I know..." Marinette whispered back. "I didn't want to keep quiet about it but..."

Alix wrapped an arm around Marinette's shoulder, pulling the girl closer to herself.

"It's okay-"

"But it's not!" Marinette snapped, pulling herself away from Alix's grasp. "Everyone is fighting all the time! Nino and Alya broke up, same with Ivan and Mylene!"

The others looked down, thinking about everything that had happened, how the class slowly had fallen apart. How so much of it had been blamed on Marinette, even if the girl had nothing to do with it.

"It's not your fault, Marinette," Max suddenly said.

That was what finally broke the dam. Every dirty look, every mean message. All of it had always come down to one thing.

"It's not your fault, Marinette."

Marinette cried.

Her breathing hitched. Tears welled up. It was as if something finally snapped inside her, and the tears started to trickle down as Marinette started to hiccup, and wail, and sob.

Marinette's face was red, her nose was running, and she screamed her heart out.

The others looked, stunned, as their usually composed and cheerful class president broke apart in front of them.

Alix was the first one to snap out of her stupor, and she was quick to pull Marinette into a bone-crushing hug, swaying them both in a steady rhythm whilst shushing the class president.

Max and Kim looked around in alarm, checking and keeping an eye out for an Akuma, both letting out relieved sighs when they saw none. Hawkmoth must not have been active at the moment.

Marinette slowly calmed down, the trio waiting with bated breath for her to speak, only for Alix to realize the girl had fallen asleep in her arms.

It had taken several calls, but Bruce Wayne finally managed to finalize a class trip for Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

He wasn't sure what had driven him to help the idol with organizing the sudden class trip, but before he knew it, he was spending a good hour or two the Monday after his short trip to Paris, on making phone calls and arrangements.

Maybe it was the dim spark in the young performer's eyes that had made him act. It was like she had been present the entire night, yet far off, always thinking of something else.

Or perhaps, it was her dedication to making a good class trip, despite already being busy with a number of other things. He wondered briefly if she even slept at night.

His sons would more than likely be curious as to what a french class was doing in Gotham, touring various Wayne buildings, but Bruce thought that it might be better to keep the fact that he had invited NeTi to Gotham a secret.

Perhaps he could surprise Dick, Tim and Jason with their favorite idol when the class came.

Still, Bruce had his doubts about inviting the class. From what he had heard from his three eldest sons, it wasn't often that the idol talked about any particular friends, and a quick look at said idol's social media proved that there were no pictures either.

Maybe he could ask Alfred to look further into the situation later.

He looked over the calendar with everything the class would be doing on their two week trip to Gotham.

The first week was dedicated to touring Wayne buildings and different museums, the second week was more of a free week, of course with the Friday scheduled international talent show that he knew Marinette was guest performing in.

The international talent show had been linked to the charity gala he had attended in Paris, and had been organized by the biggest sponsors and doners, Bruce being among them.

It was another reason he had decided to invite the french class. Marinette would have gone to Gotham soon anyways, so it felt like an opportune moment to do so.

Bruce had talked to Jagged Stone before about the rockstar's talented "niece" and he had heard his sons talk about her plenty too. From what he had heard, it hardly seemed like the girl ever got a break, something Alfred had pointed out was rather concerning.

Maybe Gotham wasn't the safest place for the girl or her classmates, but Bruce had hope that the trip would turn out well in the end.

Now he just had to get back to work and see how things progressed with the french class once they were actually there.

-_-_-_-

@ozmav @skyel0ve @kuroko26 @shizukiryuu @fangirl-food-feelings @driftingmoonlitpetals @spicybelladonna @izzynuggets @thebookwormfairy @god-is-dead-and-so-am-i @melicmusicmagic @minightrose @graduatedmelon @awkwardturtlez @sizzling-fairy-oil @thornangelic727 @royalchaoticfangirl @vixen-uchiha @mewwitch @my-name-is-michell @mikantsume @imfreakingmagical @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @constancetruggle @kae690 @resignedcatservant @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @drama-queen-supreme @derpingrainbow @captainmac6 @k-rena-k @lunar-wolf-warrior @friedchickening @fandomfan315 @fanboy7794 @yin-390 @unholykrow @teresarosiadeviluke2112 @ayuchan07 @seraphichana @justanothersepticeyefan @politelyvicious @roseinbloom02 @uncompressed-boi @cadencehood @kaleigh-girlonfire

#maribat #maridami #daminette #idolnette #of birds and bugs #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug

409 notes · View notes

claraxbarton · 7 years

Text

Need

For @downwarddnaspiral, who asked for prompt 11 “I thought you didn’t want me” with Duo and Zechs.

Warnings: language, angst, sex, AU

Pairings: 6x2

Need

“You look like shit.”

Duo had to snort as he looked away from the table strewn with discarded sheets of paper, some crumpled and some ripped, all littered among the open books, pencils, markers and rulers haphazardly shoved just out of the way enough to allow Duo to fold his arms on the table and hide his head.

He looked up, though, at the voice and the oh so touching compliment.

Zechs Merquise stood in the doorway of the studio, leaning against the frame, his arms crossed over his chest and looking for all the world like the model for some kind of promotional literature.

Go to Grad School for Scenic Design and you too could grow up to become a gorgeous asshole!

Go to Grad School for Scenic Design and maybe, if you're lucky enough, this gorgeous asshole will notice you!

“You need sleep,” Zechs added as he pushed away from the door and came into the room.

This late at night, or rather this early in the morning, they were the only ones in there. Probably the only ones in the building.

Zechs looked down at the mess Duo had made.

Duo resisted the urge to take back the drawing that Zechs picked up. Instead, he forced himself to look at Zechs’s face as the other man looked over it.

“Hm.”

Zechs set it back down on the table, among all of the other rejects.

And even though Duo wasn’t particularly happy with the sketch, Zechs’s noncommittal ‘hm’ felt like a personal insult.

“What the fuck does ‘hm’ mean?” He demanded.

Zechs shrugged one shoulder.

“It means you need to get some sleep.”

“This is due tomorrow afternoon! If I don’t have preliminary sketches ready I’m -”

“You’re what? Going to be told to get them in the day after?” Zechs arched an eyebrow, doing that thing where he looked superior and all-knowing. The thing that Duo hated.

“Or I’m going to be told to fuck off and the project’s going to be handed over to a second year because no first year gets to design a main stage show and this is just going to prove why that’s a rule in the first place.”

Duo scrubbed his eyes with his hands.

The Scenic Design program was good - was, in fact, great. One of the best in the country, and it was competitive as hell - both to get in and to stay in. There were three students in each year- first through third - and first years were usually assigned two shows to assist on, one each semester. In the fall, Duo had been assigned as Zechs’s assistant, working with the third year student on his thesis project, the set design for Trojan Women. The third year was a bit of a legend, his mother a Tony award winning lighting designer and his father a Hollywood film producer. Everyone wanted to work with Zechs- except Duo, who didn’t care if the sun actually did shine out of his ass. Working together had resulted in Duo’s very intimate understanding of just how confident and self-centered the other man could be. It had also resulted in intimacy of other kinds, which Duo had been pretty sure was a one-off. Well, five-off. He had fully expected that, after the show opened and the design studio did their post-mortem discussion, Zechs would go back to not giving Duo the time of day, treating him as indifferently as the rest of the peons. But, mind-bogglingly, Zechs had asked Duo out to dinner, had taken him on dates that ended with a lot of heated kisses but no sex for weeks until Duo demanded Zechs fuck him or get lost. That had been three months ago, and while their… relationship of sorts had taken a bit of a breather during the winter break while Duo went back east for three weeks and Zechs did… whatever he did, as soon as Duo had returned it had picked up right where they had left off. Literally. With Zechs’s tongue down Duo’s throat and Duo’s hands down the back of Zechs’s pants.

Neither of them, Duo was sure, were on the good list for airport security.

Everything had been great, great enough that Duo was pretty suspicious of it, and then two weeks ago the second year who had been assigned to design scenery for Antigone had been taken off the project. No one knew why - which meant that the entire department, not just the scenic designers, were gossiping about it.

The first years, who wouldn’t be given their own show to design until their second year - if they were lucky - had watched the drama unfold with mild interest. None of them were assigned to assist on the show, since second years never got assistants, so it didn’t matter that much.

Until Duo had been called into his mentor’s office and told he would be designing the show.

Then the other first years had cared. Had spent the last week shooting Duo looks and whispering things that suggested they sincerely hoped he found his way off of a bridge pronto.

And Duo… Duo hadn’t known what the fuck to do or think except I am fucked.

He had, in addition to this new assignment, all of his regular studio work, as well as his class work and his part-time not really at all allowed job to do.

It meant he was frantic, meant he was sleepless, meant he really didn’t have time to deal with Zechs. Who, yeah, was damn good in bed and turned out to be a really good conversationalist when he tried but, when he didn’t try, was a gorgeous asshole that was nothing but a distraction.

“Maybe,” Zechs allowed with another shrug.

“Your support is overwhelming. Really. Thank you.”

Duo yanked another sketch away as Zechs reached for it. The other man’s lips tilted into a smirk.

“Sleep on it. Wake up early and give it another pass.”

“I don’t want to sleep, Zechs. I want - I want to figure this out and not make an ass of myself!”

“Then at least take a break,” Zechs suggested, grabbing the scale ruler that Duo had been stretching for and holding it out of his reach.

Duo glared at him, but Zechs continued to smirk.

“Zechs.”

The other man continued to hold it over Duo’s head, and Duo was forced to stand up.

But, Zechs being the asshole that he was, he held it even higher.

“You know how I used to think you were cute?” Duo growled.

Zechs arched an eyebrow.

“Used to?”

“Yeah. It’s becoming an increasingly distant memory with each second.”

Duo lunged for the ruler, but Zechs with his stupid height and stupid arms continued to hold it aloft.

He wrapped one arm around Duo, pulling him close and keeping him from making another attempt.

“Give me half an hour and I promise,” Zechs leaned down and nipped at Duo’s neck, “you’ll be over your I hate everyone and everything mood.”

Normally, Duo would be arching into Zechs, would probably moan or something when Zechs bit him because Duo had a thing for biting but now was not normally.

Now was his third day in a row with less than four hours of sleep and now was less that twelve hours before he had to turn in a preliminary set design. Now was not at all the time.

“You’re thinking about this too much,” Zechs continued, dragging his mouth down Duo’s neck, laving at his clavicle before biting down again.

Despite his resolve and his accurately labeled hate everything mood, Duo shivered at that touch and found himself angling his head.

He felt Zechs smirk against his skin.

“See? You want it. Take a break and let’s go -”

Duo finally managed to grab the ruler.

Zechs rolled his eyes.

“Duo.”

“Zechs.”

“Half an hour isn’t going to set you behind. And it might just give you a fresh perspective.”

“Look, I get that you’re horny, but letting you fuck me isn’t going to magically unlock this show for me. It’s just going to leave me with cum dripping out of my ass while I sit here for another six hours and try to figure out what the fuck I’m doing. Not all of us get to waltz around here acting like we’re God’s gift to theatre. Some of us actually have to earn respect.”

Zechs straightened up and regarded Duo with narrowed eyes. He stepped away, and Duo knew that his words had hit uncomfortably close to home.

Knew, also, that he was in an I hate everything mood and was taking it out on Zechs. Who was, though, trying to distract him. When all Duo wanted, when all he needed to do, was work.

Zechs looked past him, back to the table of rejected ideas.

He picked up one of the sketches that Duo had ripped in half and laid it beside the one he had previously looked at.

“You’ve already unlocked the show,” he said and then walked out of the room.

Leaving Duo to stare at his own work.

Fuck.

He sat down, reaching for his lead holder and his forty-five degree triangle and started to sketch again.

Zechs was right. Here it was - this was what the show needed to look at.

-o-

An hour later, Duo had cleaned up his mess, refined his sketches and cobbled together a presentation of his research images. He left the studio, locking it up behind him, and found himself dreading going back to his own apartment.

It wasn’t just that his three roommates probably still hadn’t bothered to clean up after the party they had thrown two days ago.

So, sucking up his courage and mentally preparing an apology, he walked the half-mile from campus to Zechs’s studio apartment.

It was almost three in the morning, and there was every chance that Zechs was already asleep or out with someone or - or had someone there with him.

Dreading that delightful thought, Duo knocked on the door.

It took awhile, so long that Duo started to walk away, but eventually Zechs opened the door.

He was dressed only in boxers. Which, well, didn’t alleviate many of Duo’s fears.

“I’m sorry,” Duo muttered.

Zechs arched an eyebrow, but made no move to invite Duo inside.

“You were… helping or whatever. In your own fucked up way. And I… yeah, I’m in my I hate everyone and everything mood. And…” Duo groaned and rolled his eyes. “And you were right, okay? You’re fucking brilliant and you were right. You’re… really fucking good at this.”

“So are you,” Zechs murmured.

Duo shoved his hands into his pockets.

“No, I’m not. But I’m - look, I’m not good with shit like this, okay?”

“Shit like what?”

“This,” Duo groaned. “You - me - relationships or whatever the fuck this is. I’m not - I’m not good with people.”

Zechs lips twitched, but instead of saying anything, he opened the door.

“You staying the night?”

Duo bit his lower lip.

“You want me to?”

Zechs rolled his eyes.

“I thought I made it very clear how I felt about having you over.”

He had, on several occasions. He had even given Duo a spare key just before winter break, had smirked as he pressed it into Duo’s hand and told him it was his Christmas present. Duo still hadn’t used it - it just felt weird, to open the door to someone else’s apartment, to just assume he was welcome.

With a sigh, Duo walked into the apartment. He dropped his bag beside Zechs’s and toed off his shoes.

After closing and locking the door, Zechs leaned back against it and watched him.

Duo sighed.

“So what, are we just gonna… stare at each other all night or can we just fuck and go to bed?”

“I thought you didn’t want me,” Zechs said.

“Yeah, well, obviously I do. Okay?”

Zechs smirked.

“Yeah. Okay.”

He held out his hand and, rolling his eyes, Duo took it.

-o-

#6x2 #sappy prompts #requests

7 notes · View notes