#that last line made me realize that we might get a fifth time buck thinks eddie is dead or dying sooner than i thought | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wkemeup · 5 years

Text

Feel Again

summary: Instantly captivated by the woman the nurses have dubbed the ‘frequent flyer’ of the emergency department, Bucky can’t help but fall for Y/n. He relishes every moment he can spend with her and with her apparent clumsiness, it’s quite often. That is, until he learns the real reason behind her injuries.

pairing: doctor!bucky x reader

word count: 13k 😬

warnings: mentions of a physically abusive relationship (no direct descriptions of violence), descriptions of injuries

authors’s note: this def gets a little dark but I promise it’s worth it. please enjoy a very lovestruck/protective bucky 🥰

“Alright little man,” Bucky chuckled, brushing his hand over the curls of the three-year-old boy name Nico sitting in his father’s lap upon a cot. The busy chaos of the emergency department had Nico clinging onto his stuff stuffed stegosaurus for dear life, curled up against his father’s chest.

Small brown eyes looked up nervously as Bucky knelt down at Nico’s eye level. He pointed to the Band-Aid he had obtained special from the pediatrics floor on the boy’s elbow, light green and covered in small cartoon dinosaurs.

“Don’t go running down the stairs again, okay? Doctor’s orders.”

Nico nodded, his curls bouncing into his eyes. Bucky stood up with a grin and shook the hand of Nico’s father who apologized for the fifth time in as many minutes for bringing his son in for such a small cut. His wife was away on business and he had a bad habit of panicking at the small things when it came to their son.

“Always better to be safe,” Bucky advised, offering the nervous father an encouraging smile as he slid the chart into the basket at the end of the bed. The man hugged his son tightly before he reached for their coats, thanking Bucky again for his time. He watched as Nico’s father lifted him easily into his arms and carried him to the exit of the emergency department.

As they pushed open the doors, Bucky caught a brief glimpse of the night sky, blanketed in darkness and freckled in stars. Last he knew the sun was still above the skyline. He glanced up at the bright red numbers illuminated above the nurses’ station to read it was nearing on one in the morning. Bucky sighed, giving himself only a moment to breathe before he recognized Steve jogging in his direction.

“Buck!” Steve called over the loud chatter of irritable patients waiting for their turn and the constant beeping of about a dozen heart monitors. He shoved his way through a hoard of interns in light blue scrubs gathered over the bed of a man talking casually despite the knife protruding from his collarbone and grumbled something about ‘dough eyed idiots’ under his breath. Panting for a moment as he reached Bucky, he glanced down at the clipboard.

“I need you on bed eight.”

“You doing okay, Steve?” Bucky smirked, leaning against the countertop at the nurses’ station. “Looks like being head of trauma ain’t all it’s worked up to be. You seem a little overwhelmed.”

“We’re swamped,” Steve grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose. One of the nurses could be heard scolding an intern with defibrillator paddles in his hands as the patient was opening his eyes from a heavy sleep. “The interns are completely useless and I’ve got more patients than beds. This full moon shit is killing us.”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky laughed, clapping Steve on the shoulder as he moved toward the bed at the end of the line. “Take a breath, Stevie. Sam’s on call for tonight. Why don’t you give him a ring?”

“Yeah I bet he’ll love that,” Steve rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “I’ll be sure to tell him it was your idea, too.”

"Wouldn’t that be a damn shame,” Bucky called over his shoulder, chucking to himself as he swerved his way through the crowd of people gathered for the injured soccer player in bed six.

Bed eight sat at the end of the series of cots lining the east wall of the department. It was tucked a little further into the corner, separated by a series of rolling carts and machines, so it at least felt slightly less claustrophobic than the rest of the beds around here.

The curtain was drawn around the bed, obstructing the patient from view, so Bucky took a minute to glance over the chart.

Y/n Rumlow. Female. No record of prior medical history, which was a bit unusual, but the nurses had at least taken down note that the presenting problem was pain and swelling at the wrist. Shouldn’t be too difficult to manage. He could have her out of here in a few minutes and on to the next patient before Steve started flogging the interns or actually woke up Sam, for which Bucky would face some serious death glares for the rest of the night.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the well recited speech he usually doled out to patients.

With a quick tug, Bucky swung open the curtain, eyes still glued to the clipboard, “Good evening, ma’am. My name is Dr. Barnes and I’ll be--”

A yelp sounded over the metal rings sliding against the rod over his head and Bucky froze.

He glanced up over the brim of the chart to find a young woman sitting cross legged on the bed, dressed in light wash jeans and a sweatshirt with faded lettering worn with years of use. Her hair was tied up away from her face, like she had thrown it up last minute before leaving the house, messy strands falling down from the bun. The faint discoloration of dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and the imprint of what appeared to be the fold of a pillow case on her cheek.

Bucky noticed almost instantly that she was undeniably, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

She was gingerly resting her right wrist against her knee just over the rip in of jeans. Her phone sat on the bed by her hip, softly playing music from the speaker as the headphones must have yanked accidentally from the plug. Wide eyes, a breath coming in too quick, a hand stabilizing against her chest, and Bucky realized he had startled her.

“Sorry I scared you there, Miss, uh,” Bucky chuckled nervously, glancing down at the chart for her name again, “Rumlow.”

“Y/L/n-Rumlow, actually,” she corrected with a soft, almost proud, smile and Bucky wondered if he ever heard a voice as sweet as hers before.

She pulled the headphones from her ears and quickly turned off the music playing from her phone. The strum of the guitar silenced, something that sounded familiar to Bucky though he couldn’t quite place it, and the unnerving noise of a busy ER filled the room again.

"Y/n is just fine,” she added and Bucky’s heartbeat kicked up.

“Okay then, Y/n,” Bucky smiled back at her as he took a seat on the edge of the bed, enjoying the way her name felt on the edge of his lips. He swallowed, cursing at himself for the flush in his cheeks that seemed to redden the longer she looked at him.

He had a job to do. Might as well focus on that instead of the anxious energy surging in his veins.

He gestured for her hand. “Why don’t I take a look at that?”

“I hope I’m not taking up too much of your time. I’m sure there’s someone who needs your help more than me right now,” she said nervously, glancing down at the series of bed filled with patients and the bustling families around them.

Bucky noticed then that she was alone, and he wondered why that was.

“I’m sure I’m probably fine,” she continued with a shrug, “but I didn’t want it to get worse, you know?”

Bucky nodded, watching the way she kept glancing down at the eight-year-old in bed five who hadn’t stopped coughing since he arrived, skin flushed red and sweat dripping down his back. His mother sat on the cot with him, running her hands along his damped hair as the poor boy looked like he was about to faint at any minute.

“You’re not preventing anyone else from getting care,” Bucky assured her genuinely.

Steve approached the boy and his mother just a moment later and Bucky nodded down towards them. Y/n followed his gaze and her lips curved up against her cheeks, watching intently as Steve took off his stethoscope and let the boy listen to his own heartbeat. A grin broke through the boy’s tired face and he gestured excitedly for his mom to try.

“I’m sure you see a lot of pain working in a trauma center like this,” she said, gaze still trained on the boy, watching him with a kind of secondhand joy that made Bucky’s stomach weak. He didn’t know people were still this genuine. She turned back to him. “Do you have good moments like that, too?”

Bucky nodded, his cheeks a little sore from smiling. No one had ever asked him that before.

“We do, actually. The good moments aren’t always cute kids, though.” He could feel her eyes on him and he took a deep breath, continuing. “Sometimes, the good moments are when a patient’s heart rhythm picks up again after flatlining long past when someone else would have called it or when we’re able to stabilize a patient coming in from a car wreck long enough to get them up to the operating room or when we catch a tumor in a scan for a concussion that’ll probably end up saving their life. That kind of stuff happens more often than you’d think.”

Bucky didn’t realize how wide he was smiling, caught up in the memories, until he noticed the bewilderment with which Y/n was watching him, eyes practically sparkling, as he was lost in his own world to just talk about what made this job worth all of the bad timing and the lost causes.

“But a lot of times it’s the cute kids,” Bucky added, chuckling softly under his breath.

“It’s really nice that you care so much about what you do,” Y/n said, almost longingly with a bit of an ache in her voice that Bucky didn’t catch. “Not everyone is fortunate enough for that.”

Bucky shrugged, trying to brush it off casually. He glanced down at her wrist, noticing the way she was favoring it as she had pulled it closer to her hip bone.

“I should probably take a look at that, then. Since I care so much,” Bucky said with a teasing smirk, one that somehow made her smile even wider and he swore he could just stare at the way her lips curved so sweetly against the soft hue in her cheeks for eternity and be content.

“Right, of course,” she giggled, extending her arm towards him.

She hissed as he took her wrist carefully into his grasp, a frown pursing over her lips and Bucky cursed himself for being the cause of it. He ran his fingers carefully over the swollen area, light bruising forming at the surface, and he glanced up to gage for her reaction to find her pulling her lower lip into her mouth, biting at the dry skin.

“What’s the damage, doc?”

“It’s definitely sprained,” Bucky admitted, reaching for the cart next to the bed and dragged it towards him. The wheels clicked against the tile surface and he pulled open the second to top drawer, rummaging through the supplies until he pulled out a long, tan bandage. “I’m going to wrap this, alright? It may hurt a bit.”

She nodded as Bucky began to unroll the bandage. He glanced up at her, finding himself wanting to know more about a patient than the necessary questions for the first time in years.

He wanted to know what school that sweatshirt was from because he couldn’t quite make out the faded lettering on his own. He wanted to know what artist she had been listening to when he startled her and if she made playlists for the weather and obscure kinds of moods like he did. He wanted to know if her eyes were naturally such a warm, inviting hue or if she smiled like that at everyone or if she wanted to go to dinner Friday night--

Wait.

Focus.

Bucky set the beginning of the bandage at the inside of her wrist and began to wrap it carefully around her arm and then up around her palm between her thumb and pointer finger, and then back around her wrist twice. As he worked, he could sense her eyes on him, watching, and he found himself needing to ask her more questions just to hear her voice again.

“So, no medical history, huh?”

“Just moved to the area,” she replied quickly, a little flatter than what her tone had been before though Bucky didn’t pay it any mind. “Haven’t had a chance to find a primary doc or transfer my records yet.”

Bucky nodded, satisfied enough with her answer, though he didn’t notice the way her shoulders seemed to sigh in relief when he didn’t probe further. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for patients to show up without a medical history, especially if they were from out of state or hadn’t been to a provider within the hospital’s network before. He didn’t think too much of it.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened that you sprained your wrist at this time of night?” Bucky asked playfully as he secured the adhesive end and released her hand.

She flinched slightly at his question and Bucky narrowed his eyes, pausing for a moment to watch her as she averted her gaze to his hands. She shrugged, though a sliver of hesitation slipped in before she spoke.

“Oh, I just tripped over some shoes in the hallway coming back from a shift. Landed wrong.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, unsure. He swore he remembered seeing the indent of a pillow crease on her cheek when he first sat down, like she had woken up from a deep sleep, but then she started to laugh. She had those crinkles up by the sides of her eyes that made Bucky’s stomach flutter and he couldn’t remember why he asked in the first place.

“I’m pretty clumsy, actually,” she sighed with that grin that made Bucky’s stomach churn. She brought her left hand up to her lips to hide the smile Bucky couldn’t seem to look away from as a blush filled her cheeks.

That was, until he noticed the flash of a diamond reflect under the florescent lights and his heart sank.

He shouldn’t be surprised; didn’t know why he was. A girl like that, so effortlessly beautiful and a smile that could instant light an entire room; he didn’t have a chance. Bucky chewed on the inside of his cheek, forcing out a grin to match hers despite the disappointment wallowing in his stomach.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you too long,” Bucky said as he stood from the bed, trying to mask the hurt in his voice. “Just make sure you ice that and get yourself a primary doc, okay?”

She nodded quickly, gathering her phone and headphones into her bag before she slid herself off the side of the bed. “Thank you, Dr. Barnes. I really do appreciate your time.”

“Bucky,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. She raised an eyebrow. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “You can call me Bucky. You know, if you, uh, ever find yourself back here which I, um, of course hope you... don’t.”

Cheeks flushed red with an embarrassment he was entirely unused to talking to a woman and Y/n grinned so wide he was sure the corners of her lips might touch her ears. He’d never seen anything like it.

“Okay, Bucky,” she said sweetly and he wanted her to say his name a dozen more times. “Hope you have some good moments tonight.”

Bucky smiled, giving her a subtle wave as he watched her disappear into the crowd of doctors and patients before he caught sight of her again by the door. She paused, digging into her bag for her phone, brushing a fallen hair behind her ear and huffing it out of her face when it fell back a second later. The soft pout on her face made Bucky’s legs weak. Once she pulled the phone from her bag, a frown pursed over her lips and her shoulders seemed to stiffen. Bucky was about to walk over to make sure she was alright when he felt a nudge in his shoulder.

“You look like a complete idiot, just so you know,” Sam grumbled, arms folded over his chest as he clearly was following his gaze.

Bucky tore his eyes away from Y/n reluctantly as Sam began to snicker to himself. He grabbed a chart out of the hands of an intern as they walked by and tracked down some kid named Peter Parker in bed two with a glorified bug bite.

When he looked for Y/n again, she was gone.

***

“You’re thinking about the girl from bed eight again, aren’t you?”

Bucky lifted his head from his arms folded against the countertop of the nurses’ station and sent a glare in Sam’s direction. He hadn’t had a decent night sleep in four days and he was coming off a thirty-six-hour shift, the lack of sleep evident in the bags below his eyes and the messy wave in his hair. He only agreed to stay an extra hour to help Steve with the transition of interns coming onto the night shift so his patience was incredibly thin, especially for Sam’s antics.

“She’s married, Sam,” Bucky groaned, rubbing at his eyes. “Don’t matter if I’m thinking about her. She’s not available.”

“Maybe it’s a green card marriage,” Sam offered and Steve wacked him upside the head. He shrugged, seemingly unbothered, though he ducted out of Steve’s reach before he spoke again. “Maybe the guy’s emotionally unavailable and she’s looking for a way out. Or... maybe she’s in the market for some side action.”

Sam bumped Bucky’s hip with his own, making some ridiculous cooing noise. He apparently found himself to be incredibly hilarious as he nearly doubled over laughing at Bucky’s non-reaction.

“It’s been three weeks, Buck,” Steve said cautiously, shoving Sam away and stepping between the two as usually found himself doing. “Maybe you should let Nat set you up with the nurse in cardiology.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Look, I appreciate the thought but I’m way too busy for--”

“Dr. Barnes?” one of the interns came up behind him, timid voice barely heard over the hustle of the ER. Bucky turned around to face her. Wanda, he thought. She handed him a chart. “Bed fourteen is asking for you specifically.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Did you tell her that we don’t--”

“Thanks Wanda,” Bucky pressed out a smile, interrupting Sam as his eyes fell upon the name listed at the top of the chart.

Sam glanced rather obviously over his shoulder and started chuckling to himself, saying something to Steve Bucky knew would only come at his own expense, but he took off towards the west side of the department without waiting to hear what is was.

He couldn’t seem to get there quick enough. Several interns tried to snag him away as he walked past, asking questions they should have learned in their first year, but he shrugged them off, gesturing for one of the nurses to assist them instead. The nurses always seemed to know more than the interns anyway.

Sure enough, as he turned the corner, there she was.

Hair cascading down over her shoulders, exposing the soft curl amongst messy waves he hadn’t seen the last time she visited. She was in black leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, almost as if she had just crawled out of bed and still, she was hands down the most captivating person within view.

Her eyes glanced around the room, almost curiously, just watching the doctors as they scribbled their messy handwriting into charts, nurses as they drew IV and scowled at the interns, and patients as they muttered amongst one another, complaining of the noise and the long wait time. Bucky found himself grinning before he even took another step in her direction.

She hadn’t noticed him approach the side of the bed and when he cleared his throat to say hello, she recoiled away as if something had burned her. Her hand clasped to her chest, breath picking up in pace, eyes wide in such a familiar state to when Bucky first met her.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky blurted out, sliding her chart into the basket at the end of the bed. He scratched nervously at the back of his head. “Man, I’ve got a habit of scaring you, don’t I? Guess I should learn to walk a little louder...”

Y/n relaxed instantly as her eyes fell upon him, a blush burning in her cheeks as she grimaced at him, though it turned into that sweet smile Bucky missed so much.

“No, no it’s my fault,” she waved him off, laughing nervously. “I startle easy.”

Bucky nodded, already feeling a contentment just being around her again. He didn’t know it was possible for someone to captivate him so quickly, so easily, without much effort at all. The way she was looking up at him, under thick lashes and a soft red in her cheeks, Bucky felt like he could melt.

“So, what’s going on this time?” Bucky smiled, pulling up a stool and wheeling it under him as he sat next to her bed. She extended her right hand in his direction, wrist covered in the bandage that should have been removed over a week ago.

“I think I messed up your good work,” she frowned, her gaze darting to the ground, almost shamefully. It sat in startling contrast to the kind features in her face.

“It’s not my work I’m worried about,” Bucky said lightly, hoping to get her smiling again. “What happened?”

Y/n didn’t respond for a moment. Instead, her eyes were focused on the way Bucky’s hands grazed over her wrists tenderly, careful not to put too much pressure, his own eyes flickering up to hers every once in a while to make sure he wasn't accidentally using too much force.

“I um,” Y/n started, slowly bringing herself to meet Bucky’s eye when he paused, waiting for her to respond. A smile curved at her lips, though something felt a little off about it. “I tripped over the damn cat. Can you believe that? If I’m gonna fall so much maybe I shouldn’t use my wrist as my landing support, huh?”

Bucky nodded apprehensively, watching the way the smiling didn’t quite reach her eyes. But then again, it was nearing midnight and he was coming off a thirty-six-hour shift. Maybe he was just seeing things.

“Guess I should count myself lucky you’re so clumsy then,” Bucky said, flashing her a smile. “Didn’t know if I’d see you again.”

She bit on her lip in an effort to suppress the grin pushing at her cheeks and the light sparkled in her eyes again. Bucky chuckled under his breath as he started to unwrap the bandage, exceedingly cautious to touch her skin with only the gentlest of pressure.

She hissed as he pulled the bandage from her arm and the cool air brushed over the skin. Bucky narrowed his eyes, studying the swelling, though he was surprised to see some green and yellow marks, bruises about a few days old, wrapping around her wrist. They looked almost like stripes.

“When did you start to notice the bruising?” Bucky asked curiously, lifting her arm slightly to examine the other side.

“Oh, that’s been there for a while,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

“You know,” Bucky started, thinking aloud as he took a closer look, “it almost looks like...”

Fingers? A hand print?

Bucky stopped himself before he could ask. He was sure he must be seeing things. He really needed to get some rest after this shift. Bucky sighed, gesturing for the nurse who walked by to bring him a few of the breakable cooling packs they reserved for favorite patients.

“Think I’ll be okay, doc?” she asked light-heartedly, retracting her wrist from his touch when he had stilled his movements and he was simply holding her hand. He swallowed nervously, not even realizing he had been doing that.

Bucky cleared his throat, nodding quickly to distract from the warmth in his cheeks. The nurse set the cooling packs on the edge of the bed and Bucky thanked her quickly. He picked one up and slid the rest into Y/n’s bag before she could do it herself.

“Use one of these once a day. You just break the bag at the center, like a glow stick, alright?” He snapped the bag, demonstrating how to activate it, and handed it to Y/n. She smiled in appreciation and let it set over her wrist.

"Let your wrist rest without the bandage at night if you can,” Bucky added. “I think you’ll be just fine, Y/n.”

“Thanks, Bucky. You’re a real savior,” she said as her left hand reached out for his and squeezed it firmly.

His eyes were drawn down immediately, staring at her hand upon his, the flicker of her diamond ring barely catching his attention from the way her fingers curled under his palm and her thumb brushed against the back of his hand soothingly. Her hand was so small compared to his, barely covered over his at all, but he could feel the warmth of it, the softness of her touch.

When she pulled her hand back again, Bucky missed it instantly.

“Take care, Y/n,” Bucky said, brushing aside the feeling swelling in his chest as he helped her to her feet. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to see me for a while this time,” Y/n offered, glancing up at him in a way that made his stomach a little weak. There was something unreadable behind her eyes, something that looked a little like longing, though he was certain he was just seeing things.

She was married, after all.

Bucky watched, again, as she made her way to the exit, sliding out of the way of the incoming swarm of interns barreling their way through the ED. She made herself small as she squeezed by a few family members of the patient in bed eighteen, too polite to even ask them to step aside. Then, she paused at the door, her shoulders rising with a deep, heavy breath, before she took a step forward and out into the night.

Bucky turned to head back to the nurses’ station when he found Sam standing behind him, shaking his head as hands planted on his hips.

“Man, you’ve got it bad."

“Shut up, Sam.”

***

It wasn’t the last time Bucky found Y/n in his ED. Over the next few months she’d come in for various injuries, requesting to see him specifically, and miraculously only needing to come in during the overnight shifts Bucky usually worked. It would be a twist in her ankle, or a soreness in her ribs, or sometimes an ache at her knee. She came in enough that the nurses began to dub her as a frequent flyer, though Bucky put a stop to that rather quickly.

She’d stay a little longer than necessary and Bucky would find himself moving a little slower when he examined her, just hoping to savor a bit of their time together.

He’d learned that she used to work as an editor at one of the most prestigious newspapers in the city until she stepped down once she got married, though she didn’t say why. He learned that she liked going to the zoo and just sitting by the red panda exhibit, waiting for them to come out from their hiding places or just to watch them sleep. He learned that her family lived out of state and she hadn’t seen them in a while, though she missed them terribly. He learned that she cared more about the lyrics in a song than the melody and would rather go to a dive bar with a band than a busy club on Saturday nights.

The more he learned about Y/n, the more he wanted to know. He could spend every minute just asking her questions, though he obliged her when he found that she seemed to want to know just as much about him.

So, he’d tell her about Steve; reluctantly, about Sam, too. He’d tell her about his years in medical school and the complete lack of a social life he had, though she didn’t seem to buy that for a second. He’d tell her about the tour he spent in Afghanistan as a field medic and how he nearly lost his left arm in an explosion. He’d tell her about how he liked to go to the batting cage on weekends and about the best ice cream shop in the whole city. He’d even tell her about his fascination with Stark Industries and she’d let him rant for a solid ten minutes on their new project that was set to redesign emergency medicine in the field for decades.

Every moment he spent with her left his heart swelling and it didn’t matter to him when she twisted and pulled at the ring on her finger absentmindedly as they talked. He was just happy to be around her, even if this was all it was going to be. A few stolen moments amongst a crowded emergency department, finding that when he looked at her, she was the only one in the room.

It had been nearly a month since he’d seen her last and part of him was thankful she was able to keep herself unharmed and managed not to trip over something else for a while, but he missed her like crazy. He’d find himself looking towards the entrance of the department every so often, a dozen times a shift, searching for her amongst the crowd.

Though, he knew it was unlikely he’d find her today. He agreed to do a double shift for Steve when Nat called out sick, so here he was, attending to patients with the sun shining outside for a change. Y/n only seemed to come in at night so at least now he’d be able to focus on something other than missing her voice or the sweet way she’d smile at him or the flicker of light in her eye when she --

“Dr. Barnes?” a voice called, rough around the edges from years of smoking.

Bucky blinked, pulling his attention back to the middle-aged man sitting in bed eleven. The man coughed again; an awful sound that probably ruptured something deep in his lungs. Bucky sighed, fiddling with the chart in his hands.

“You need to lay off the cigarettes,” he said simply, focus regaining on his task at hand. “You’ve got tar build up in your lungs and it’ll only...” his voice trailed off as a clanging sound erupted further down the hall, pulling his attention, as a nurse rushed to pick up the supplies that had been knocked over. Bucky shook his head, glancing back at the chart.

“It’ll only get worse if you keep smoking like this,” he continued, shrugging. “I can prescribe something for smoking cessation, but that’s the best I can...”

Again, a commotion at the end of the hall. Bucky narrowed his eyes, ignoring the way his patient grumbled under his breath, and he tried to get a better look.

“Sorry! Sorry, shit, I—I didn’t mean to cause such a mess,” a voice stammered out, one so familiar that Bucky quickly handed off the chart to the resident observing over his shoulder without a second thought and headed in the direction of the commotion.

The patient was calling after him, complaining about his terrible bedside manner as Bucky stalked off but it hardly even registered when he saw Y/n’s cheeks flushing red, stumbling over her words.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, a moment of relief in his chest short lived by the way he noticed she was holding her hands; out right, like she was carrying an invisible platter, only her palms were red with blood. One of the nurses was gesturing for her to follow him to one of the open beds, pulling her away by a harsh hand on her elbow from the mess of supplies along the floor she had knocked over. His impatience was evident in his shoulders, the way he rolled his eyes at her, and a heat boiled in Bucky’s chest.

“I can take it from here, Grant,” Bucky called, jogging towards them as he grabbed a pair of latex gloves from the counter. He glanced briefly at Y/n, who’s eyes bulged at the sight of him, a near look of panic flashing over her features that Bucky didn’t quite expect.

“Bucky!” she gaped, swallowing thickly. “I didn't think you'd... Don't you work nights?”

Bucky shrugged, curving his lips into a smile for her the way he usually did. “I agreed to take an extra day shift to help Steve out. Lucky timing, huh?”

Y/n nodded, though she didn’t return his smile. It was unusual for her and it made Bucky raise an eyebrow in concern, though she tore her gaze away from him before he could ask what was wrong. It was then Bucky noticed Grant impatiently tapping his toe, waiting.

“We’re good here,” Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line. “Thanks.”

Grant rolled his eyes, letting go of Y/n’s elbow, and while her shoulders seemed to relax, her hands were still held stiff, her stare firm to the floor. Timid. Almost fearful. So unlike the light-hearted, quick witted woman he knew. It didn’t sit well with him.

Bucky swallowed, tugging on the gloves before he reached out towards her absentmindedly and let his hands cup the back of her own, holding them steady in place. He shook his head as he examined her palms, a deep red coating in the insides of her hands, shards of glass embedded in tiny fragments amongst the surface. Stealing a glimpse at her face, he noticed the faint reflection of tracks down her cheeks, like she had been crying. His stomach twisted into knots at the mere thought of it.

He glanced back at the line of occupied beds before he caught sight of the open door at the end of the hallway.

“Follow me.”

He led Y/n down the busy hall, past several patients who had been waiting hours before her and the dirty looks that followed, before he gestured for her to step inside of the exam room. He flicked on the light switch as she stepped inside and carefully closed the door behind him. She had already taken a seat on the cot when he grabbed a chair and slid it up beside her.

He gestured for her hands again and she gave them over hesitantly. Bucky glanced up at her, noticing the way she avoided his gaze, shielded under his stare for the first time since he’d met her. As he held her hands in his own, he let his thumb brush comfortingly along her knuckles, trying to ease her discomfort as he took a better look at the glass puncturing her skin.

“I’m gonna have to pull the shards out with tweezers,” he said after some time, unable to come up with an alternative plan that would spare her more pain. She nodded, still yet to meet his eye. Bucky grabbed the kit from the drawer and pulled a pair of tweezers out. “This’ll probably hurt a bit. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

As he moved the metal rods to grip the first piece of glass, starting with the smallest fragments first to avoid additional blood covering his view, and tugged it out of her hand with a sharp movement. She let out a yelp in response, unprepared.

“Sorry,” she gritted through her teeth, a flush of embarrassment in her cheeks.

“No need to apologize, Y/n,” he replied sincerely and she seemed to relax a bit at that. “I’ll work fast, alright? It’ll be over in no time.”

She nodded in agreement and Bucky could feel her eyes on him as he worked. Each shard he pulled from her hands elicited a muffled whimper she’d try to hide from him. She’d bit down on her lip, tuck her face against her shoulder to hide the tears welling in her eyes, but he noticed. He cursed his own hands for bringing her this pain.

Hoping he could distract her as he moved to pull out the larger pieces in her hands, he let his mind wander to the question that had been swarming in the back of his head.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” he asked carefully, keeping his eyes trained on her hands as he plucked out a rather large shard embedded into the lifeline in her palm. She winced as the glass clanged into the metal cup next to him. A few more pieces and he’d be done.

Her silence didn’t slip past him as he continued to work, though he didn’t push her just yet. He was already causing her pain by tugging at her broken skin, there was no need to add to that. When he finally got to the last piece in her left hand, Bucky pulled it out quickly and let the tweezers fall into the cup amongst the glass shards. The two of them exhaled in relief.

As Bucky reached for the disinfectant wipes and the gauze he would need to wrap her palms, he warned her that it would sting. He pressed the alcohol-soaked cloth to her right palm and she bit back a whimper, one that made Bucky’s stomach churn. He muttered an apology under his breath as he wiped away the excess blood and wrapped her hand in the soft material. Then, he moved to the other to repeat the process again.

Once her hands were wrapped and Bucky peeled away the latex gloves, tossing them into the disposal bin by the door, she cleared her throat.

“I, uh, dropped a pair of wine glasses,” she mumbled and first the first time that day she met Bucky’s eye. There was something clouding the light in her eyes that Bucky found himself so drawn to every time he was able to steal a few moments with her. She didn’t carry her usual carefree charm or the sweet smile that made Bucky’s knees weak or the laugh he could have listened to for hours on end. Something was off, but he couldn’t make sense of it.

“It was so stupid,” she continued, shaking her head. “The wine spilled everywhere, all over the white tiles and Brock—Brock was so mad, he nearly--” she paused, biting on her lip hard enough to stop the words from spilling out.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, an ache in his chest hearing her husband’s name for the first time. The way she said it, her voice practically shaking, Bucky found himself desperate for her to finish that sentence, though he couldn’t find the strength to ask her to do so.

Instead, she let out a heavy sigh. “I must’ve just lost my balance or something while I was trying to clean it up and caught myself on my hands, right in the glass all over the floor. It was my fault. I can be so clumsy.”

Bucky nodded, though there was a part of him, bigger than he wanted to admit, that didn’t believe her. The way she spoke, it was almost void of emotion, like she had said those words too many times for it to be real, like it had been taught and rehearsed in front of a mirror.

“You’re always so kind to me Bucky,” she said in a whisper, a lingering of remorse in her words that took him off guard. “I take up so much of your time here. I’m sure you have better things to do than pull glass from my hands. I bet even one of your interns could have done it.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Bucky teased, hoping to ease the obvious ache in her voice. He offered her an encouraging smile as he glanced down, realizing he was still holding her hands in his, though she made no movement to pull away. “I... I like when you take up my time.”

Bucky sighed, staring at her hands in his own, running careful fingers over the soft exposed skin, trying to gather some courage.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this, but I...” Bucky licked his lips, a nervous shake of his head, and he let the words he had been holding back since he met her tumble out. “I miss you when you’re not here. I don't ever want to see you hurt but... when you walk through the door, it’s the best part of my day. Everything is just better when you’re around. I don’t remember the last time I felt this way... about anyone.”

Bucky glanced back up at her to find her lips parted in shock and a longing behind her eyes that made his stomach weak.

“I... I don’t deserve that, Bucky.”

Her gaze fell down to his lips and Bucky swallowed.

“You deserve the world, Y/n,” he replied and it was the easiest thing he ever said. Her breath hitched at his words.

“Bucky, I--” she exhaled and he could feel it against his cheek. When he had moved this close to her? At what point did he start leaning in? When did she meet him halfway?

His hand had found its way up to her neck, gently running his thumb over her jawline until she met his eye, speckles of light returning between the colors in her iris the longer he held her like this. They were so close, unbearably so, that he noticed the undertones in her iris for the first time and the faint markings of a scar along her forehead. He could stare at her for hours and find new features to appreciate, to want to kiss and hold and love.

He’d never fallen for anyone so fast before and despite the laundry list of questionable ethics, he couldn’t help but want every part of her; her mind, her soul, her body, the sweet curve of her lips, and the sound of her laugh that had marked its home in his chest, the crinkles by her eyes and the curious way she enjoyed observing busy rooms. He wanted it all.

Bucky held himself against her, nose brushing over her cheek bone until his lips sat only a breath from hers. He could feel the uneven exhale of her breathing, shaking in the same anticipation he felt deep in his chest. Eyes glanced up to his, nervous, longing, and he ached for her in a way he didn’t know was possible. Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned forward, his lips tingling at the thought of her, though he stilled his movements instantly when he glanced down and noticed a dark purple mark peeking out from under her shirt.

Bucky pulled back, eyes narrowing on the colored patch on the left side of her chest, hidden under her collar, only a sliver of what appeared to be a much larger pattern.

“Bucky?” she questioned cautiously, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mark. It wasn’t until she followed his line of sight that she realized the sleeve of her shirt had slipped a bit and exposed the secret lying underneath. She quickly adjusted her top covering up the bruise again, but the damage had been done. He had seen.

Bucky felt sick suddenly. Nausea creeping up in his stomach for the months that had gone by and he so foolishly missed the signs, too caught up in wanting to see her, in being thankful he could spend another few minutes just talking with her, that he didn’t stop to think about why she was coming in to the ED so often for an otherwise completely healthy woman. The way she referenced her husband, in the rare moments she did, was filled with a kind of hesitation, intimidation, she shouldn’t have carried for a man she loved. He hadn’t realized until now that he’d never even known her husband’s name until a few moments ago.

He couldn’t wrap his head around it; how it was possible that a woman who was so filled with wonder and joy and kindness when Bucky first met her that he was instantly captivated by her, could be the target of a vile man with no other outlet for her anger.

Bucky let his hand fall from her neck and he pulled it into his lap. It clenched into a fist that punctured his nails into his palm, but he was careful to hide it. He let out a heavy exhale, though that did nothing to ease the tightness in his chest.

“How long has your husband been hurting you?”

She sucked in a gasp, her entire body growing stiff. “I don’t-- W-Why would you ask that?”

“You don’t have to lie for him, doll,” Bucky implored softly, his hand sitting upon her thigh, thumb circling in soothing motions. Her gaze fell down to the movement of his hand, watching the tenderness in which he touched her, cared for her. It was unlike anything she was used to, and for the first time, Bucky knew why.

“Please, let me help you,” Bucky pressed. “You don’t have to go back to him. I won’t let him lay a hand on you again. I can—I can help you, doll.”

“Bucky,” she exhaled, his name a plea in her voice. “Leave this alone, please.”

“I can’t do that, Y/n. Not when I know he’s hurting you.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she snapped suddenly, words harsh in her voice though her eyes were wide and fearful. It was too rehearsed, almost conditioned, the way she made her voice stronger, edgier, than she felt. She couldn’t force her eyes to be as hard as her voice or the movement of her hand as she batted his away. She couldn’t lie to him through the shades of her iris he had grown to care for so much.

“Doll, I’m beggin’ you. You gotta let me--”

Y/n jumped off the bed suddenly, shoving Bucky aside to grab her bag from the counter. Her hands were shaking as she did so, wincing as she put too much pressure to her wrapped palms. Bucky stood cautiously, trying to make his stature a little smaller, less intimidating, as he approached her. He reached a hand out to her shoulder.

“Y/n, please--”

“Drop it, Bucky. There’s nothing you can do,” she urged, a panic replacing the faux constructed offense and Bucky saw a glimpse of fear in her features that nearly made his legs give out.

Before he could have a chance to beg her to stay again, she pushed open the door and disappeared out into the crowd. He stared at the door as it closed behind her, frozen in a state of shock and panic for this woman who was so intent to go back to the man who kept sending her here.

Bucky snapped himself back to reality and chased out after her, calling her name as she pushed past the crowd of interns, bumping into their shoulders in haste. She didn’t hold up. Light blue scrubs dove out of his way when they saw Bucky running in their direction.

“Y/n, wait!”

He was stuck behind a gurney that had been wheeled out into the hall and she was suddenly down by the double doors. She glanced back at him, an unreadable expression on her face as she turned and pushed her way outside.

His heart in his throat, Bucky desperately tried to swing around the sides of the bed before he just lunged over the top, much to the annoyance of the nurses, and practically sprinted down the hall. An administrator carrying a dozen files in his hand nearly had to jump out of Bucky’s way as he ran past, clinging tightly to the stack of papers.

Panic surged in his veins when he couldn’t find her down by the doors. He slammed his shoulder into the release and stumbled out into the busy street. Ambulances lined up at the drop off point, pedestrians walking by, family members of patients sitting on the bench, and the man Bucky had been attending to earlier smoking off in the corner, still wearing his hospital gown.

But not Y/n.

Bucky raked his hands through his hair, eyes darting down the street in both directions. She was nowhere. She was gone.

“Shit!”

“What the hell is your problem?” Steve grumbled behind him, having followed him outside upon noticing the commotion. “You’re scaring the patients.”

“I need Y/n’s records,” Bucky said, shoving past Steve and ignoring his question. He could sense Steve on his heels as he raced back to the nurses’ station and rapidly began typing in the computer. It took some digging, her records not being readily available in the system, but he found them.

“Fuck.” He slumped back into the chair, his hand darting to brush over his parted lips.

Prior to her first visit to Bucky several months ago, she had shown up in various EDs in Seattle, one every few months for at least a year, and then to Washington, D.C, for the last two years where she’d been treated for broken bones, a fractured rib, and internal bruising.

She’d also been in New York for longer than she let on, using Urgent Cares and EDs from outside the hospital’s network before she met him. For some reason, when she met Bucky, she stopped her pattern of using different emergency rooms. It was the first time she went to the same place consistently for more than two visits.

She broke her pattern for him.

“You want to tell me what's going on?” Steve raised an eyebrow, hands planted firmly on his hip, though his features began to soften when he noticed the wave of desolation in Bucky’s face.

“I fucked up, Steve. I really fucked up.”

***

“I can’t tell whether or not it’s worse that she hasn’t come back yet,” Sam said as he jumped up to sit on the countertop of the nurses’ station. It was nearing two in the morning and he broke open his second bag of chips. It was a slow night and those didn’t sit well with Bucky. It gave him too much time to think.

“I should have fucking seen the signs,” Bucky grumbled to himself, words that he’s repeated consistently since he saw Y/n last. It had been nearly three weeks since she ran out of the ED on him. Three weeks of constant anxiety, of looking over his shoulder to the door, of expecting the absolute worst. “How many months was she coming in here with those injuries? Why the hell didn’t I realize it sooner? Am I just that fucking naïve?”

“It’s not your fault, Buck,” Steve said calmly. “None of us saw it either.”

“I just wish she had a phone number or an address listed in the chart so I could at least make sure she’s okay,” Bucky conceded for the moment, though he knew the voice in that back of his head would return soon enough to remind him of his failure. “It’s the not knowing that’s killing me. I keep checking the papers thinking I might find her name in there one day, that her asshole husband will have taken it too far and I didn’t do a damn thing to stop it.”

“We’re not mandated reporters in New York state, Buck,” Steve reminded his friend. “We’ve been over this. You can only break HIPPA to report abuse of vulnerable populations; children, the elderly, mentally disabled. Y/n doesn’t fall in those categories so--”

“Am I just supposed to sit here with this knowledge that her husband is the reason she’s been in and out of this ED for the last six months, then?” Bucky grunted, raking his hands through his hair hard enough to tug out a few strands.

“If she’s not willing to press charges, there’s nothing the police can do,” Sam added, his voice a little softer than usual, more careful. “You have the evidence she’ll need if she ever does. You can even testify for her if it comes to that. But until then, you gotta sit still. Unfortunately, with shit like this, she’ll be back eventually.”

***

Another week passed by and still nothing. Bucky threw himself into every shift he could possibly pick up on the off chance Y/n might come back to the ED. He couldn’t risk not being here if she did. Dark circles hung under his eyes and he spent more nights sleeping in on call rooms than his own apartment. Steve was nearing kicking him out of the hospital for a week straight when Bucky finally agreed to take a day off. He slept nearly sixteen hours that night.

“Dr. Barnes?” Wanda called from across the hall. She handed him the chart of a twelve year old girl with what appeared to be a case of the flu judging by the redness in her nose, the cold sweats, and a general green color in her skin.

Bucky pushed out a smile that didn’t come as easily these days and knelt by the bed. “Hey kiddo, how you feeling?”

“Not good,” the girl murmured, clenching at her mother’s hand.

“We’ll get that sorted out for you, okay?” Bucky pulled out his stethoscope and pressed the cool end to the girl’s back, asking she take in a deep breath. Then, he took her temperature just to confirm his suspicions, and when it read 101.3, he grimaced towards the girl's mom. “I’m going to go ahead and prescribe an antiviral and hopefully we can get this flu under control.” He turned back to the girl. “That sound good to you, princess?”

The girl nodded sheepishly and curled into her mother’s side.

“Thank you, Dr. Barnes,” the mom said, offering a smile in Bucky’s direction as she moved to pull her daughter into her arms. He nodded, and turned to hand the chart over to the nurse to assist with discharge when he found Sam waiting behind him. He wore a nervous kind of look on his face that made Bucky narrow his eyes suspiciously.

“What’s your deal?”

“I need you to come with me,” Sam replied, his voice short though there was a lingering concern in his words that Bucky wasn’t quite used to. Having spent so much time ridiculing and teasing one another despite the fact that they were actually friends, he knew enough to drop his guard when Sam came to him in this voice.

Bucky nodded, following Sam down the hall to the exam room with the closed door. Sam put his hand on the knob, but he paused before turning it.

“I need you to take a breath,” Sam instructed and Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’m serious, Buck. You need to be in control when you walk in this room.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bucky groaned, his patience growing thin.

“It’s Y/n,” Sam said and it was enough for all of Bucky’s defenses to fall. “It’s... it’s not great, man. But this is what I was talking about. She’s back and she needs you right now. Okay? So, take a breath. Please.”

Bucky nodded quickly, sucking in a deep breath to his lungs though it came in shaky. He wondered when these feelings had developed strong enough to make him this terrified to see you again; to have to wonder what Sam meant by ‘not great’ and sit with that mental image for a moment too long before the door finally opened for him.

Sam stood outside, closing the door behind Bucky as he entered. It was dark inside the exam room, the shades drawn and only the lamp by the desk illuminating the space. Y/n stood just a few feet from him, her back to him as she held her arms wrapped around her waist.

“Y/n?” Bucky called cautiously, though she didn’t move to face him. He took a step closer.

“Wait,” she blurted out. He watched as her breaths came in heavy waves through her shoulders. “Just... please don’t be angry with me.”

Bucky’s heart fell, his chest aching painfully at the very thought. “I could never.”

With a heavy sigh, a brief nod to herself, Y/n began to turn around. She kept her head down, hair shielding over her face, and there was a slight tremor in her hands as she gripped at her forearms crossed over her waist. Bucky took a careful step forward, so that he was standing close enough to see the hairs standing up on her arms and the hear the rustled intakes of her breaths.

“It’s okay, Y/n,” he encouraged softly, trying to keep himself calm despite the anxiety rushing through him. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you, okay?”

She nodded hesitantly and slowly allowed herself to lift her head, her hair falling away from her face and Bucky bit down so hard on his cheek he drew blood.

A dark purple bruise marked over her cheek bone, extending in angry red vein-like lines down the sides of her face from the swelling. Her lip was busted open down the center, dried blood caked in the cracks. But worse than that, her eyes were red, filled with tears that sent a painful stab straight to Bucky’s chest.

Bucky reached out, so tenderly, so slowly, that it felt like a century before his hand grazed against the side of her face. She closed her eyes at the touch, leaning into him as he looked over the bruising, searching for further injury. His thumb traced over her jawline, his hand setting against her collarbone, as he hoped to sooth her while he examined the wounds.

He let out a heavy sigh and pulled his hand back. The subtle gasp she let slip didn’t pass his notice and he wondered if he should reach out again. He parted his lips to tell her that nothing appeared to be broken, that the swelling and bruising made it look worse than it was, but the words fell heavy on his tongue. Nothing he could say could make this any easier. It didn’t matter if it would heal on its own in a matter of a month or two, because the damage had come from someone she was supposed to trust, supposed to love. There was no repairing that. Even if it had been happening for years. It wasn’t any easier.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” she whimpered as the tears began to well over her lashing as cascaded against her checks. Bucky shook his head rapidly, not wanting for her to apologize for a single thing, but she continued before he had a chance to interject. “B-Brock... he knows. He knows I’ve b-been coming here. I’m n-never supposed to go to the same place more than twice but I... I was selfish and- and I wanted to see you again. I c-couldn't stop wanting to see you.”

A sob racked through her and the sound nearly broke Bucky straight in half. On pure instinct he reached out and gathered Y/n in his arms, surprised to find that she came against him willingly, her hands gripping tightly at his scrubs, face pressed into the crook of his neck as he ran his fingers down her back in long sweeping motions.

“I’m right here. You’re okay, doll,” Bucky cooed, swallowing back the lump in his throat. “I’m not going anywhere, you hear me?”

She nodded against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her hands spread against his back, bunching into the fabric of his dark blue scrub shirt and Bucky realized she was trying to ground herself. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head without thinking much of it and his breathe hitched when he realized what he had done. Though it seemed, at the gesture, her whole body seemed to relax, muscles losing their tension and her grip on his shirt becoming less tight.

After some time passed and Y/n’s cries had fallen silent, her breathing coming in at a normal rate, Bucky spoke up.

“Does he have consent for your records?”

Y/n didn’t pull away from him, mumbling against his chest, “he made me sign for it.”

“Okay,” Bucky exhaled, a slight relief at the plan formulating in his head. “We need to go in and revoke that as soon as possible. I’ll make sure everyone in this hospital knows not to give your information to him if he shows up. If we revoke consent, no one can even tell him if you’re here if he asks. Okay?”

Bucky started to pull away, just to help lead her to the door so he could get access to a computer, but she clenched her grip on him reflexively.

“Please don’t leave me.”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, doll,” Bucky soothed, his hand rubbing in soft circles on her back. “I won’t leave your side. Think you can come to the hallway with me? I’ll take you behind the nurses’ station so you’re out of the way of the patients. That alright?”

“Y-yeah,” she conceded, nodding to herself. She let her arms fall from his waist and brushed at the dried tear tracks reflecting on her cheeks. She winced when she grazed over the bruise mark too hard. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, doll,” Bucky said encouragingly in light of the heat boiling in his chest, wondering how long it took her husband to condition her to apologize so often. He could barely stand to think about how this woman who stole his breath away from the moment he met her, who was a filled with such light, could be extinguished by a man who was supposed to love her.

Bucky extended his hand to her, part of him wanting to make sure she had a way to ground herself outside of the room and a more selfish side of him just wanting to hold onto her a little longer. She stared at his hand for a moment, a look of relief on her face, as she took it carefully in her own.

“If it gets to be too much, you just let me know, alright?”

Y/n nodded, pushing out a smile that fell quickly from the pain in her broken lip. Bucky sighed, restraining the part of himself that urged to bring their intertwined hands to his lips and kiss at her knuckles. Instead, he pushed open the door, florescent lighting blinding for a moment as the chaos of the ED came back into view.

He felt a squeeze in his hand as he stepped out into the hallway and Y/n followed closely behind. Her other hand snaked its way across her and hooked onto Bucky’s forearm. She glanced up at him nervously, almost as if she was silently asking it this was okay, and he smiled encouragingly at her, nodding. She exhaled in relief as he helped weave her through the crowd.

Sam noticed them coming in the direction of the nurses’ station first. He raised an eyebrow and set down the chart he had been reading.

“Everything okay?” he asked as Bucky led Y/n around the back entrance and helped her settle into the chair Nurse Hill usually occupied.

“Revoking consent,” Bucky said as Y/n released his hand reluctantly so he could type his password into the computer. “Where’s Steve?”

“He’s been telling staff not to give out any info on Y/n since she got here. The ED’s on lockdown from that asshole as far as we’re concerned,” Sam replied, throwing a half-etched smile in Y/n’s direction. She struggled to lift the corners of her lips but he could tell she was appreciative nonetheless.

Bucky finished clicking a few boxes on the computer and he passed over a touch screen to Y/n. “Just need your signature, doll, and we’re done.”

She took the pen from his hand and quickly scribbled her name onto the pad. He noticed the hyphenated end of her name, his name, was illegible compared to the rest. She pressed her lips into a thin line when she was done and handed the pen back to Bucky. His fingers grazed over hers a moment longer than necessary.

“Is there anyone we can call for you?” Sam asked, breaking through the tension that kept Bucky’s eyes drawn into Y/n’s.

Y/n shook her head. “No, I, uh... I don’t have friends around here and I haven’t spoken to my family in years.”

Sam sent a nervous look in Bucky’s direction, unsure of what to do next. This wasn’t typically his wheelhouse. First instinct was to call in social services, but he knew Bucky would want to be at the forefront of this.

“We’ll figure something out,” Bucky said reassuringly. “You can stay here with us until my shift’s up and we’ll go from there, alright? If that’s what you want...”

Y/n nodded quickly, a solace relaxing the apprehension in her muscles.

“Okay,” Bucky said, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. Things were coming together. This mess had a few strings that could be tied to knots. There was a plan, at least, and she wanted him to be next to her through it. It was all that mattered right now.

Despite the break in her lips, Y/n started to smile back at him, a flicker of light returning to her eye that Bucky adored so much. Though it fell away instantly when a voice rang out through the ED and a surge of panic coursed over her features.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS MY WIFE?”

Bucky’s eyes darted over to the entrance of the ED where a man, over six feet in height and a growl tearing through him like a rapid dog, shoved aside two nurses attempting to calm him down. One glance back at Y/n, who had sunk so far down into her chair in an effort to hide herself behind the barrier, and Bucky knew instantly that this man was her husband.

Brock Rumlow.

“You have no goddamn right!” Rumlow bellowed, his voice echoing down the halls and drawing the attention of at least a dozen patients and staff. “I know she’s fucking here! Tell me where she is!”

A rage boiled deep in Bucky’s chest when he noticed the red marks on Rumlow’s right hand; marks he had obtained from the abuse he doled out to the woman he was supposed to love. Bucky's breaths were coming in too fast, his hands clenching into fists so tight it punctured his palm with his nails. Before he could take a moment to think, he shoved his way out to the hall and away from the nurses’ station, stalking in Rumlow’s direction.

“I’m going to need you to calm down,” Bucky seethed, clenching his teeth in an effort to control his voice, though it didn’t do much good. Rumlow paused, shaking off one of the nurses as he straightened his back, sizing Bucky up.

“Tell me where my wife is and we’ll be on our way,” Rumlow drawled, his eyes glancing down the series of cots.

“We cannot confirm or deny if your wife is here, sir.”

“Bullshit,” he spat, face boiling red.

“You’re scaring our patients,” Bucky said through gritted teeth. “Calm down, or leave.”

“Fuck you,” Rumlow grunted and he attempted to push past Bucky, though he was met with a hard shove.

“Don’t make me call for security to escort you out.”

“Security?” Rumlow scoffed. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are but--” His eyes widened, locking in on something over Bucky’s shoulder. “Y/n! There you are baby!”

Bucky’s stomach dropped as Rumlow caught sight of Sam attempting to sneak Y/n back to the closed room at the end of the hall. Sam quickly stepped out in front of her, shielding her from Rumlow’s view as she did her best to hide behind him. A sickening smirk pulled at Rumlow’s mouth and he moved, once again, to push past Bucky but found he was met with a wall of hardened muscle.

“Don’t even fucking think about going near her,” Bucky growled, putting a hand on Rumlow’s chest and shoving him back a few paces. Bucky stole a quick glance back at Y/n, who had peaked around Sam’s arm, and tried to convey a lifetime of apologies for allowing this man even lay eyes on her again. She didn’t even spare Rumlow a second look, focused solely on Bucky.

Rumlow’s eyes narrowed, gaze darting from Bucky to Y/n, watching the silent conversation held in their stare. He cracked his neck to the side as his upper lip began to twitch.

“So, you’re the asshole that’s been putting garbage in my wife’s head,” Rumlow taunted, spit flying from his mouth like a rabid dog. “Yeah, that’s right. I know about you. I know you’re trying to steal my wife from me. But newsflash, asshole! She’s mine!”

“She’s not your property, you piece of shit,” Bucky fumed, his cheeks growing hot with the rage coursing in his veins.

Rumlow let out an animalistic growl and he charged full force in Bucky’s direction, throwing a fist straight at the left side of his face. Bucky dodged it easily, bending down and shoving his shoulder into Rumlow’s gut and sending the both of them spiraling to the ground.

Chaos erupted as patients began to scream, nurses and interns darted out of their way as Bucky held Rumlow down by his collar and punched him square in the jaw. Blood spat from Rumlow’s mouth and he tried to get a grasp on Bucky before he took another swing, but he wasn’t coordinated enough for that. It seemed he was only able to attack when his victim didn’t fight back.

Bucky could barely see straight, red clouding in his vision, until he felt strong hands grabbing at his shoulders and yanking him off the ground. Two security guards hulled Rumlow off of the floor and restrained him by the arms as Bucky tried to shake off whoever was lugging him backwards.

“Buck! Stop!” Steve shouted into Bucky’s ear and Bucky stilled immediately.

Steve released his grasp and suddenly Y/n came crashing against him, wrapping her arms tight around his waist as Bucky stumbled back a step at the impact. He froze, caught off guard for a minute, arms stretched out to the side as he looked down to find her shaking, before he let himself hold her.

“Hey, I’m alright,” Bucky whispered so only she could hear. She squeezed him tighter in response, her face tucking into his neck and he could feel the stain of tears against his skin.

“I’ll fucking kill you! You hear me, bitch! I’ll kill you!” Rumlow roared, pulling against the security guards holding his arms back. Y/n flinched at his words, unable to even steal a glance in his direction, and Bucky tightened his grip on her, turning their bodies so she wasn’t in Rumlow’s direct line of sight. Bucky ran his hands along Y/n’s back, urging her to walk with him away from the scene.

As Rumlow continued to shout obscenities, Bucky glanced back over his shoulder to find security handcuffing him and Steve towering over as they restrained him to his knees. Patients and staff members parted alike as Bucky gently pulled Y/n along down the hall towards the exam room. He whispered endless apologies into her hair as he led her to the door. Once they were inside, Y/n let her hands fall away from his waist and they quickly jumped up to grasp the sides of his face.

“Did he hurt you?” she asked anxiously, eyes darting over his face. Bucky pressed out a sad smile, reaching up to her wrists and pulling her hands away from his cheeks.

“I’m okay, doll, I promise.”

She nodded, though he could tell she didn’t quite believe him. She took a few steps away from him, her hands falling from his outstretched grasp and he missed the contact instantly. One arm crossed over her waist and the other pressed up against her lips as she shook her head, like she was trying to contain words from spilling out. Bucky watched silently, unsure of what to say.

“I should never have dragged you into this,” she finally said, a heavy sigh in her words. She turned her back to him. “I don’t know how he even found out about you, that I’ve been coming to see you.”

“But we never... we didn’t... um,” Bucky stammered awkwardly, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck.

Y/n turned around slowly, her eyes downcast in shame as she nervously picked at the ends of her shirt. “There are other ways to be unfaithful, Bucky.”

Bucky’s heart skipped as she met his eye, that longing he had been seeing hidden behind her iris’s for so long, now so abundantly clear.

“At first I thought maybe I was just confusing these feelings with the relief of someone, anyone, just being as kind and as gentle as you were to me when we first met,” she started. “I thought maybe I was just misplacing this need I had to be touched with something other than... other than cruel intent onto you because you reminded me what it was like when someone was gentle, when a touch could bring goosebumps instead of bruises.”

Bucky nodded slowly, though he let her speak as he took a seat on the edge of the cot. He could tell it was difficult for her to get this out by the way her hands wrung against one another and the subtle quake in her voice. He tried to ignore the way his heart had picked up in pace the longer she spoke.

“But then I realized it was you,” she said, a littler strong now, more assured, and Bucky’s heart nearly stopped. She shook her head, almost in disbelief as she walked a pace closer to him until she stood between his legs. “It was your hands I wanted to put me back together, your face I wanted to see when I closed my eyes at night, your voice in the back of my mind. It was you.”

“Y/n...” her name slipped past his lips like a prayer.

“All that and I still ran from you when you tried to help me,” she sighed, chewing on the dried skin on her lip, just next to the split. “I’ve just been so caught up in this lie for Brock all these years that the second you saw through it, I got scared, thought maybe you’d change your mind about me, think I’m weak or... or foolish for staying with him.”

“I don’t think those things,” Bucky interjected quickly and she smiled sweetly at him, the smile that he had fallen so easily for.

“I know you don’t,” she said, her hand reaching up to brush over his hair and push it behind his ear to get a better view of his face. His skin tingled at the touch. “You reminded me what it was like to feel again, Bucky. I was so numb before I met you.”

Her lips pressed to the center of his forehead and Bucky exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

“I don’t know what happens now, but I want you in my life,” she confessed, nervous eyes meeting his and Bucky quickly reached up to the hand cupping the side of his face to hold it in his lap. He brought her knuckles to his lips, kissing them gently and pulling a smile from her he adored so much.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. I’m right here,” he affirmed and her smile widened. “We’ll have to get you a new doc, though. I can’t be treating you after this.”

“I can handle that,” she replied quickly, chewing on the inside of her cheek to suppress the smile tugging at her split lip though it didn’t do much use.

“And your husband?” Bucky asked nervously, a wince pulling at the corners of his face in anticipation of losing her smile again, but it didn’t let up.

“Let him rot,” she replied confidently. “I’ve got enough evidence against him to put him away for years. Always thought I’d find the courage one day to use it.”

Bucky couldn’t help the smile at that, the pride he felt warming his chest. He pulled her closer, pressing his lips to the crown of her hair as he enveloped her into his arms. She sighed against his neck, the warmth of her breath leaving goosebumps in their wake and Bucky sighed contently.

There were so many unanswered questions, so many next steps, but Bucky couldn’t find the energy to care about a single one of them in this moment with Y/n pulled tight to his chest, the sweet smell of her shampoo flooding his senses.

She nestled in tighter against him and he wondered if had fallen for the version of Y/n who had been numbed for so many years, how much more he could adore her when she was allowed to express every part of herself unimpeded.

It didn’t matter there were so many unknowns. There was too much to look forward to.

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-7233

additional drabble 🌸

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #reader insert #my writing #bucky fic #feel again #doctor au #bucky x female reader

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originofjaehyun · 4 years

Text

Interlude: No More Drama | Part 3 | Boom

Interlude: No More Drama Masterlist

Word count: 3,178

Warnings: None except for mentions of cigarette I guess

Part 3 | Boom

“It was rather good baby, the day you were standing there again like a picture.”

Prev • Next

Jaehyun’s used to girls flocking around him.

He never meant to boast about his look, but it would be a lie if he told people that he's not confident with it. His pale skin, combined with the defined jaw, decorated with a pair of brown eyes that could penetrate with just a look, he is chiseled to perfection.

There are many times where he would go to clubs, either with a friend or with his clients, just to have the rest of the night pretending he’s having a good time when he’s not. He is sick with the same pattern, girls trying to steal his attention, trying their best to seducing them. He has witnessed more than a handful of women that wore something that could barely hold their breasts.

Jaehyun hated these types of girls. But he would hold them just for the sake of temporary satisfactions. What is wrong with hookups, as long as both parties gave their consent? They would feel like they owned Jaehyun the next morning, texted him even when they were already back at their respective homes. But Jaehyun would never respond, seeking nothing more but just a one night stand.

Not until he saw you.

He was sitting right across you, so he had a full picture of how you look that night. You were pretending, just like him. He saw a glimpse of him in you. When you made eye contact with him, he thought you would be another girl that he would bring home for the night, expecting you to send back another flirtatious peek just like how other girls would. But no, he was just another indifferent person for you. You’re back, talking with your best friend and letting out the most genuine smile of the night.

Curious.

He thought as he continued to observe you. In the end, he saw his opportunity to find you, as you walked towards the balcony for a smoke. The moment Jaehyun’s lips touch yours, he feels like a bolt runs through his vines. His heart beats faster as the kiss becomes more intense. Your kisses feel like the first spring for Jaehyun.

Jaehyun woke up with the absence of your presence. So she left, he thought to himself. This is nothing new to Jeong Jaehyun. Every time he had those casual sex, there are times where his partner would just storm outside without even bothered to say goodbye. He’s used to it.

It’s a shame, he thought there’s something different... from you.

It just makes sense for him to flinch when you suddenly opened the door with two glasses of water on both hands.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” You said to him, apologetically. Worried that you’ve woken him up from his slumber because of the ruckus you’ve made.

You put the glasses on the side table, “I thought you’ll wake up feeling thirsty after… Uhm, last night.” You gulped, feeling slightly embarrassed as you remembered how he devoured you just a few hours ago.

“I’m sorry for barging your apartment, but you look so content in your sleep that I don’t want to wake you up. I promise I didn’t steal anything.”

Me, content?

This is something new to Jaehyun. This is the first time he sleeps longer than his partner. Even when they left without trying to not wake him up, he would pretend that he’s still asleep, just for the sake of being polite.

He stared at you, scanning how you look, before letting out a soft hoarse simper.

“There’s nothing much in my place anyway, but I’m guessing you’ve taken a liking on my shirt?”

You blushed, “Well, I technically passed out last night, and you refused to let me go after the fourth round.”

“We left our clothing in the hallway, so I just grab whatever is lying here. I hope you don’t mind, here’s yours.” You passed the already-folded shirt and trousers to him. “Uhm, your boxer is in the middle. I left your coat at the coat hanger.”

He blinks repeatedly, without replying to your statement. Realizing he might still be collecting himself after being woken up, abruptly, you continued your speech.

“I’ll be gone before long. I hope you’re ok with me changing here, I don’t know where your bathroom is and I’ve been barging long enough.”

You’ve sensed that his gaze has become softer, eyes gleaming.

“Don’t change yet.” He finally talked to you. “Can you come here instead?”

He stretched out his arms, adorably asking for your presence. He pressed both of his lips together, acting spoiled and forcing the dimples to come out. After last night, he actually asked, rather than commanding. You let out a small chuckle, before falling on top of him, cuddling with each other.

You took a moment to enjoy the silence between you. The room only filled with the sound of your breathing, harmonizing with each other. He casually caressed your hair, tightening his hugs while making sure you’re still comfortable in between his arms. This man could be gentle too, so you thought, after seeing him being so beastly last night. He placed a kiss on your temple, then playfully snuffling himself onto your hair.

“I should get going.” You stopped him from tickling you further.

“As much as I enjoy this and it’s Saturday morning, I think I’m overstaying my welcome.”

“Who said so? I can do this all day.” He put his head on the crook of your neck, continued to act spoiled. “At least stay for breakfast? I can cook for you.”

“You’re good looking, smell nice, extremely experienced in bed and now you can cook? God seems a bit unfair when he created you, huh?” You scoffed at his statement, making him burst in laughter.

“But really, I have to turn down the offer. My best friend will start hunting for me if she knows I’m at a stranger’s house. But thank you for your kindness.”

You raise yourself up, ready to change back to the attire you wore last night. He then limped himself back to the bed, staring at the ceiling as you changed.

“Can I see you again?” He’s now sitting down again, watching as you continued to wear your pants.

You zipped your trousers.

“Oh Jaehyun,” You walked towards him, picking up the phone you left at his side table. “You’re a charmer, you’d find plenty of women like me.”

You plant a kiss on his forehead, before striding your way to his apartment door.

–

“Do you have everything ready?”

You rolled your eyes before replying to the owner of the sweet voice. “Joy, this is the fifth time you’ve asked me and yes, I have everything.”

She sighed, “Well, it’s only natural for us to be nervous, right? After all, we are going to meet a representative from NCT Corp., big bucks, y’know?” She rubs her thumb with her index and middle fingers, acting like there’s a dollar bill in between.

“Well, my dear friend, you’re in luck cause the creative director is coming with you. Besides, ever heard a rumor that our clients would prepare a signed document beforehand if they knew I’m coming?” You said while shrugging your shoulders.

“Fucking show off.” Joy rolled her eyes.

“Language, miss.”

She then clings your arm, acting spoiled – in case you would ask her to go home early; which is not a good sign.

Both of you then proceed to enter the car, provided by the company that’s ready to drive you to the potential client’s office, NCT Corp., located at the heart of Seoul. It is a commercial property services firm, the biggest in South Korea. It has managed billions of square feet in property and facilities management and has done over thousands of leasing transactions. No wonder Joy breaks to sweat when she’s told that she’s going to be in this project with you when the client is in such caliber.

That’s not the case for you. You love the challenge and you love the thrill, when you’re faced with something that needs more than just a simple multiplication, your brain starts to work in wonders and you love that feeling. You love being in control of your job and you take pride in every work you’ve done.

You aligned at the lobby. It’s very modern and chic, but you know that the marbles that they used to decorate the floor would cost a fortune.

“Hi, how can I help you today?” The lady at the receptionist greeted you with a wide grin.

“Hi, I’m here to meet Mr. Seo? We’re scheduled to have a meeting at three.”

“OK Miss, may I have your ID card?”

You swiftly took your wallet and gave her your ID card.

“It’s [Y/N] [Y/L/N], from The Paper Plane.”

She then scans your ID card and flips open the ever-thick notes, filled with the black ink marking the company’s busy schedule. She stopped at one of the lines, before handing over two guest cards.

“Ms. [Y/N], we’ve confirmed your appointment today with Mr. Seo. All you need to do is to tap the card on the entry, and press the number 27 at the elevator.” She continues and pointing the direction of her right, showing you which way to go.

You grab both of the guest cards, handing one of the cards to Joy, “Thank you very much!”

She nods, “You’re welcome, I’ll inform Mr. Seo immediately that you’ve arrived. Have a good day!”

You’re trying your best not to let out a loud gasp when you reach the 10th floor. While the lobby downstairs was leaning towards the grandiose side, the current floor opts for a more humbled tone. The space was designed with a monochrome palette with wooden accents. The pillars were painted in black, but what impressed you the most was the wide panoramic window, showing off the breathtaking view the employees got to see every single day. You are then greeted with another person, this time a young man with curly brown hair, skin washed in a healthy tan. His eyes flicker at the sight of you.

“Are you Ms. [Y/L/N]?” He asked you and you nod.

“Great, I’m Donghyuck and I’m Mr. Seo’s current assistant. Please, follow me.” He said quickly, refusing to waste any more second.

“Nice office, by the way.” Joy jumped into the conversation.

Donghyuck chuckled, while he continued to lead his way, “Our Mr. Seo hated it when we’re constrained in the same view every day, thus the wide window.”

“You’d be surprised by how many times he forced us to brainstorm with him near the window. There’s a reason why I have my tan on, despite not taking any vacations.” He put his hand next to his mouth, being extra careful not to be caught by his boss talking about him. Both of you just laugh at his remark, making sure you stopped before Donghyuck knocks the door in front of you.

“Mr. Seo?” Donghyuck asked the person in question, being replied with a muted ‘yes’.

“The people from The Paper Plane are here.”

“Oh, please come in!”

Donghyuck enters the room, leaving the door open so that you ladies can enter after him. You didn’t make him wait for long, as you stride your way in. You’re then faced with a very tall man, a handsome chap. His eyes were the color of the earthy brown, glistening like an old copper penny. He greets you with a smile, showing you a dimple that is located on one of his cheekbones.

“Hi, I’m [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. It’s great to finally meet you.”

“Pleasure is all mine. I’m Johnny Seo, Chief Marketing Officer for NCT Corp.” He said as he shook your hand, letting you smell his fragrance, noting the spicy and woody scent.

“I hope finding your way here was not difficult?” He continues as he made a gesture to let you and Joy sit on the couch at his office.

“Not at all, Mr. Seo. There was a slight traffic jam at the corner of the street, probably because today is Friday. Otherwise, there’s no way we could miss such a beautiful office.”

A gum smile appears from his face, “Please, just call me Johnny. I might have the chief branded as my title, but I believe I’m too young for people to call me Mr. Seo all the time.”

“But you are an exception, Donghyuck, let’s try to make us look professional in front of these ladies, okay bud?” He then jokingly glared at the younger boy, causing him to hold his laughter. Both you and Joy are quick to realize that the person in front of you is definitely friendly, and kind for loosening up the atmosphere. He probably noticed how nervous Joy was.

“So, let’s get started, shall we? I booked my calendar for this, but surely I’m a busy person!”

You softly giggle, “Right, that is why I got you covered.” A brow raised from Johnny’s face, impressed with the amount of reference you brought with you.

–

“And that, finally concludes everything!”

A joyful squeal came from Joy’s mouth – no pun intended. You didn’t realize the sun was already set when you wrapped up your meeting.

“I know from the beginning I was right for choosing The Paper Plane.” Johnny smiles, followed by him stretching out his shoulder due to hours long of conversing with you. “Your portfolio impresses me, [Y/N], I’m looking forward to our project.”

You helped Joy, cleaning up the papers from the coffee table where you guys were pouring out your ideas.

“Shit, it’s already this late?!”

“Hush, Joy!” You shrieked in panic, eyes wide open as a warning for Joy who just tragically cursed in front of their client. Thankfully Johnny signed the deal already. If not, there goes your hard work.

Johnny, as kind as he is, just laughs at it, “Please don’t mind me, it’s over our working hours anyway, so we’re allowed to be our personal self again.” He said as if he knows that you’re scared of offending him. “Regardless, is there anything wrong, Joy?”

It’s only because he is Johnny Seo and the charisma that he has that he could easily be casual with someone who just jammed hours-long meetings with him. Joy, glad that she ended up didn’t fuck this meeting, quickly grabbed her phone and texting someone before replying to Johnny. “I’m meeting my girlfriends tonight. We’ve planned this dinner since God-knows-when.”

“Wait, you got an appointment? And here I thought we always eat somewhere after our meetings! It’s our tradition, no?” You whined at the last minute change-of-plan, clearly unhappy with the sudden news.

Joy gasps as her eyes widens, “Oh no! I’m sorry I forgot to tell you!” She said as her eyes continue to move frantically, concerned because you would usually eat dinner with her and now the probability of you having your dinner alone is almost absolute.

Just when you’re about to say you’re going to order a delivery or something, Johnny cuts you off, “If you don’t mind, [Y/N], I’m meeting a friend tonight. You can join me for dinner if you want.”

“Oh, please don’t take it the wrong way,” worried that you might start to have a weird judgment about him. “The person in question is my long-time best friend. We’ve known each other for years and we’re constantly in touch. So a night without my friend whining and complaining about life would actually be a good idea.”

You then look to Joy’s direction, telepathically asking for her advice. Her face said that you should go with it, but you’re still doubting.

“I’m sure my friend will like you,” he continues. “Also, I think your portfolio, combined with your personality will impress ‘em.”

“Well, uhm,”

It’s not that you hate meeting a new person, you’re just not sure how you could be comfortable by having dinner with a – if you dare to say so; a client that could secure your income for the rest of the quarter. Even so, the addition of his friend that you don’t even know what kind of high profile that person has tripled your worry.

“My treat?” Johnny looks at you, shoulders are now both ups, making it his last straw for you to come with him.

You finally laughed, “Oh dear, you surely know how to win someone’s heart.”

Johnny smirked from ear to ear, “Well, I trained for years. It’s only right for me to be able to do so.”

–

“You’re not treating me at Wolfgang’s.”

You stopped your step after you saw the restaurant sign. Wolfgang’s Steakhouse is a steakhouse that originally came from Park Avenue in Manhattan. Ever since it opened its chain restaurant in Seoul, it has been packed with celebrities and other VVIPs. You’re not the type of person who would be stingy with how you spend your money on food but definitely would think twice if you’re going to splurge that much money over a single meal.

Johnny then turned his way to you, before then a waiter opened the door for him.

“Well, consider it as a token of my apology for taking your time during the meeting, and for taking our time before making it for dinner. Besides, me and my friend are regulars at this restaurant. It’s always our go-to if we want to have a good meal. The steak’s awesome, the wine’s great, and the people here are relatively more, I would say, conservative in comparison to other places? So I can actually hear my partner talking, not some random gibberish from others.”

You just felt like you’re underdressed for Wolfgang’s. Not to the point where you’re ready to scoot your ass on a street-food stall at Myeong-dong (those are awesome, by the way), you’re glad that you still dressed properly to meet this client of yours. But you wished you’ve worn something fancier if you were to know your future patronage is going to treat you for an expensive meal.

But since you’re here and your stomach is clearly not on your side if you want to leave the place, you unconsciously follow behind Johnny’s tall figure, and even if you consider yourself not that petite, Johnny would still be able to hide your stature.

“My friend’s already here.” He said while looking at his phone. “He said he’s seated in our usual spot… Oh, there he is!” His eyes wide-opened at the sight of his friend.

So does yours.

“Jaehyun, buddy! Sorry I got caught in traffic!”

It’s been over a month since the night you left his apartment. He didn’t see you at first, no thanks to Johnny’s tall figure, but once he saw your face, his face perks up, you could’ve sworn you didn’t see his invisible tail wagging.

But whatever that has happened, you find yourself smiling without even realizing it, at the sight of him.

A/N: Sorry if this chapter was a bit too... slow in pace in comparison to the first two ones? At least this is how I envisioned Boom to be, just simply sweet. It was also hard to put the lyric into the chapter I literally squeezed my creative juice for this lols also im sorry the words are getting longer and longer by each chapter

#jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun fluff #jaehyunxreader #jaehyun fic #jaehyun angst #mafia!au #jaehyun #jaehyun scenario #fic jaehyun #angst jaehyun #interlude no more drama #nct scenario #inmd #neo zone #boom

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: Self Service {Headcanon}***

Warning: Cursing, Smut, NSFW, Teasing

Words: 2k

Note: This made my mind wander waaaay too much. I think I enjoyed this a little too much. LOL. I hope you guys like it. Thank you for reading!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the beginning of your relationship with Henry, the two of you made an agreement that you wouldn’t go any longer than a month without seeing each other in person. You said you would somehow make the time to reconnect. It was now seven weeks since you’d last seen each other. Seven weeks.

What made it worse was that in the process of breaking the one-month rule, you’d also broken the three-day communication rule. You hadn’t spoken in now four days and it was insane. You knew he was in the middle of doing some reshoots for The Witcher in Poland. You understood he was busy. You completely got that he probably had little control of this. Just because you understood didn’t mean that it was easy.

You missed him. You missed his scent, missed the way his massive arms engulfed you and made you feel so safe and protected. You missed the feel of his stubble brushing against your inner thighs and the feel of his hands as they slid down the slope of your hip, you even missed the feel of his feet as they were entangled with yours fighting you for the blankets.

You missed him so much you were now on the red-eye out of LA to Poland. It was a fourteen-hour flight, but you didn’t care one bit. You’d had enough of missing him, enough of falling asleep with your body pillow that wasn’t nearly as bulky as him. It was a cheap replacement that didn’t do the trick nine times out of ten. You wanted the real thing.

After a ten-hour nap, you finished out the flight catching up on some work. When the plane landed your driver was waiting. The drive was another hour through country and planes and over dirt roads and windy paths. It was a crazy drive. He was out in the middle of nowhere.

When the car finally stopped on set you walked through taking in all the interesting views. You were definitely looking forward to the release date. He’d worked so hard these last few months and you were excited to see him get all the recognition he deserved for the amazing job he’d done.

“Here you are. He’s right inside.” You thank one of the set workers and opened the door to Henry’s trailer and stepped inside. He immediately stood and turned to the door confused as to who would walk in without so much as a knock. When Henry saw it was you his jaw dropped. Kal was the first to bound to you and jump onto his hind legs to greet you.

“Y/N!?” Wasting no time, you hurried across the floor to crash your body into his. You held on tightly to him not wanting him to move one inch. Kal was again on his hind legs waiting for you to acknowledge him. That was the only reason you pulled back just enough to scratch behind his ears.

“Oh my god.” Henry’s arms tightened around you bringing you back to his embrace and the two of you just stood there inhaling each other’s scent. You’d nearly forgotten, and you wanted to press it to memory again.

“I missed you so bloody much.” Henry pulled back and cupped your face in his large hands and gently stroked the fresh tears away.

“You’re as beautiful as ever.” You wrapped your arms around him again and held on for dear life.

“I missed you.” Your voice was a whisper, it was all you could muster. Henry placed a kiss on top of your head before he placed another on your forehead. He pulled back just enough to look at you again. In seconds your lips met.

The kiss begins slow and sweet, it’s as if you both are reacquainting yourselves, testing if the spark is still there, if you still feel all you did seven weeks ago. In a matter of seconds, it is clear for you that your feelings remained the same, if not more heightened. You loved him; it was as simple as that.

The kiss intensifies as the urgency shines through. Henry’s lips passionately claim yours as you teasingly nibble his. His deep, husky moan echoed out in the quiet until Kal loudly barked interrupting the moment.

“He’s demanding a proper greeting.” You giggled as you dropped to your knees to hug the tenacious bear of a dog. Kal happily panted as he accepted your hugs and gave you licks in return

“How are you boy? Have you been taking care of daddy for me? Yeah? Have you been a good boy?”

“He’s been absolutely the best boy.” You smiled hearing Henry’s report and scratched Kal even more.

“Such a good boy, yes you are.” Kal curled up at your knees and rested his head on your bare thigh.

“I missed you too Kal.” Henry’s muscular thighs caught your eye and for the first time, you took notice that he was wrapped in a towel from the waist down. That meant he was naked underneath there. A smile spread across your face; a smile Henry caught.

“Oh no, I know that smile.” You stood and kissed him again, your hands roamed his body until they dropped to the waist of his towel. Henry’s hands gripped yours stopping you.

“Mmm, love I wish I could let you pull this off me, but I can’t. In ten minutes, I have to be out there to film the final scene of the night.”

“Ten minutes is enough time, you know it.”

Henry’s smile was wide, and his groan was one of a tortured man. “God, you just might be right. I probably could only last ten minutes but do you really want the first time we make love after seven weeks to be a ten-minute quickie?”

Realizing he had a point you groaned too. You were already more than ready. Henry must have sensed this. His hand dropped down to the sides of your thighs before he lifted your skirt to pull down your underwear.

“Since you can’t wait, I’ll help.” His lips met yours again and kissed you so intensely you didn’t realize him leading you across his trailer. When he sat you atop his thigh you moaned at the muscle under your ass.

“Use me.”

Your eyes snapped open and you searched his eyes trying to find his meaning. Henry’s lip quirked up in a mischievous smirk. “Take your pleasure, my love.” Henry gripped your thigh making you swing it over his thigh, so you straddled it. the heat from his skin met your already wet pussy. A low moan escaped you.

“Show me how much you’ve missed me.”

Of their own volition, your hips bucked forward sending the pleasure the friction of his thighs brought all through your body. Your belly fluttered and one swipe was not enough. You repeated the action and another moan tumbled from your lips before you bit down onto your bottom lip.

“I’ve had dreams of those lips.” Henry kissed you again and your hips picked up their pace. Soon you were rolling your hips to the rapid speed that your heart was pounding at. When Henry’s mouth dropped to your neck to suck the flesh there you wrapped your arms around his neck pressing your breasts to his chest. Henry moaned and lowered his hand to your backside before he squeezed.

“I missed you so fucking much baby.”

“Show me.” Henry quickly pushed your jacket off you and lifted your shirt above your head leaving you in your bra. Your nipples pressed against the material desperately wanting to feel his mouth. Henry didn’t make you wait long before his lips wrapped around one pert bud.

Your moan was loud as you wrapped your hand around his head to sink your fingers in his luscious locks.

“Fuck!” you quickly bucked on his thigh as you began chasing your release. Henry bit down on your nipple knowing you needed a little more sensation to get you there. Your shriek of approval had him pinching your other nipple between his fingers. The sharp feel of Henry’s teeth against your skin inched you closer and closer to your release. There was a thin line between pleasure and pain and Henry Cavill fully understood that and often took advantage of that knowledge.

“Oh my god, yes. Henry!” Henry’s lips left your skin as he looked down on your both hypnotized by the way your body rolled and rocked. Anytime you were on top of him he always got lost just watching you do your thing. He always said you were the best show he’d ever seen and that your body was like a drug. Right now, he was the drug and you wanted more. It was clear this was not going to be enough.

Once he heard your frustrated groan, he kissed you again. “It’ll have to be enough, for now, my love. Come for me.”

His command was the sexiest thing you’d heard in a long time—seven weeks to be exact. His prime and proper British accent always did things to you especially when he said the dirtiest things.

“Come all over my thigh, right now.”

“Shit!” Your body always responded to his commands, you didn’t know why, or how, but right now you didn’t care. Henry’s eyes met yours and that is where they remained. He knew the power of his gaze. In seconds you felt your orgasm wash over you making your body shake as Henry pinched your nipple even harder sending you higher.

“Fuuuuck!”

Just as you thought you were coming down, Henry pulled you forward on his thigh but pulled you backward by your hair. You felt no fear, you knew he’d never let you fall.

“Christ Y/N, you’re so wet for me.” As soon as he said it you felt him slip three thick fingers inside of you. You gasped and dug your nails into his shoulder.

“Oh god.” The stretch was delicious, it had been way too long. He pulled them free and slid them back in several torturously slow times. On the fifth insert, he curled his digits pulling another orgasm from you. Your scream was not a quiet one or a reserved one, it was a full on shout. Henry’s lips swallowed it as he used his thumb to flick across your still sensitive clit. The action only intensified your orgasm.

When he stopped the curl of his fingers pressed against your g-spot making it impossible for your body to cool. His smile was a devilish one, he knew just what he was doing.

“You’re beautiful when you come on you fingers love. So god damn beautiful.”

A knock sounded at the door of his trailer. Kal barked like the good guard dog he was.

“Yes?”

“We’re ready for you Henry.”

“I’ll be right there.” He never took his eyes off of you or his fingers out of you. With every word he spoke, he softly stroked the spot within. It was never enough to make you shout, but it was enough for chills to erupt all over you. Slowly he pulled his fingers from you and held them up between you. They glistened in the light from your wetness. They were so wet some of your essences trailed down to his wrist. Without words, Henry put his fingers in his mouth and sucked them clean.

“Mmmm. I’ve missed your taste. I can’t wait for later when I can have my fill.”

“Fuck!” Again, you groaned your frustration, which made him smile. Henry stood holding you in his arms and brought you to the leather couch across the trailer. As he put you down, he looked over your spread legs again before he shook his head. He turned away and cleaned himself before he put on his pants from wardrobe.

“How long until you’re done?”

“Two hours maybe.” He kissed you once, then twice before he walked to the door. “Come out if you’re feeling up to it, I’d love for everyone to meet the love of my life.”

You smiled hearing him call you the love of his life. He was the love of yours.

#self service headcanon #henry cavill headcanon #henry cavill

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lemonerix · 4 years

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Immortality and 4 eons of misery

Day 6: Immortality or Passage of time/ History Au Word count: 3,775

Arthur doesn't know what deity he angered, but he was cursed with immortality. It wasn't all that bad, it had a lot of benefits. He can't die and he can't age. He only has to deal with the fact that he would have to watch everyone he knew and love grow old and die. He was sick of being immortal, he didn't know why so many wanted immortality, it's boring as fuck. You watch every mistake in history repeat over and over, you watch as everything changes around you while you stay the same, you watch everything move onto something new while you're stuck in time. It. Sucks.

However, he had a change of pace when he met a man in the Roman Empire. He wasn't really someone that stood out, but he was quite a charmer. The man, who introduced himself as 'Alfred', was cursed like him too, but his situation was slightly different. Instead of being immortal, his original consciousness is preserved whenever he dies and gets reincarnated.

Now, let us follow the duo's misadventures throughout history.

9th Century Somewhere in the Kingdom of Northumbria

"Wanna bet how long I last out here?"

"Hmm, three minutes. Four tops."

Alfred rolled his eyes, "What? You really think lowly of me, Arthur." The other man just nodded and pulled the younger man to the ground just as a volley of arrows soared above them. "Maybe even sooner if you continue to be an airhead in the battlefield." Arthur drew an arrow and shot another invader, "Why don't you go out there then? Show them the skills you learned in the Roman Empire, and actually be of some help to our forces." he told Alfred, who only rolled his eyes as he twirled his sword on the ground. "Eh, I'm not really in the mood to fight right now. Do you think they still have some food back in camp?"

"How am I supposed to know that? I would really appreciate being left alone right now." Arthur swore when an arrow planted itself on his thigh, "Damn, this is the fifth time today!" Alfred laughed, the archer only glared at him as he broke the shaft and pulled out the head from his thigh like he was picking a berry from a bush. His companion grimaced as he saw the bloody arrow head on Arthur's palm, "I should keep this as a memento." the archer shoved it into his shirt.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Alfred gagged at the disturbing sight.

"What's it to you? If you get to slack off, then I get to keep arrowheads."

"Sure, now I think you're some kind of loony who likes to keep weird things."

"Oh shut it, and get down!" Alfred ducked just as an ax zipped past their heads. Arthur rolled his eyes, "Just get out there and be the hero you think you are, and stop bothering me." he then shot down a man running towards them. Alfred tapped his chin, "Well, if I get to be the hero..." he grinned and shrugged his shoulders, "Ah, what the hell. Just remember the bet, Arthur. Seven pieces of silver and a free drink after all of this mayhem."

"Whatever, now leave me alone.”

Alfred laughed and picked up his sword, "Alright, you Danish bastards! Tremble before the mighty he—ACK!" an arrow lodged itself into his neck; he fell to the ground next to Arthur as he bled to death. The archer only raised an eyebrow, "Well, isn't that just a shame, you didn't even last one minute." he yanked the bloody arrow from the warrior's neck and used it to shoot down another enemy soldier, "Better luck next time, then." Arthur shrugged his shoulders as he took Alfred's sword and dove into the raging battle.

September 4, 1666 London, England

"I assume that you had nothing to do with this?"

"..."

"Arthur, don't tell me you actually caused this inferno."

"..."

Arthur's face was red from embarrassment, he was just borrowing a kitchen because he wanted to try baking. He accidentally left his baking unattended and fell asleep in the kitchen, the next thing he knew, he was inside of a burning kitchen. He got out—unharmed, but his clothes were burned— and ran into Alfred a few streets away.

Alfred laughed, "Arthur, you can't be serious!"

The other man glared at him, "Shut up old man. At least I didn't die drowning in a barrel of booze six decades ago."

"Oh, don't you dare bring that up. Also, you're way older than me."

"Oh, am I? I don't look a day over twenty."

"...Yeah, alright. Now shut up."

Arthur gave him a mischievous smirk, the older man only rolled his eyes. It was true, Alfred was already in his late 50's during that time. He could already feel his old bones creaking in protest whenever he would stand, walk or do anything. The two watched as the people of London tried to kill the flames of hell that ravaged through the city.

The fact that it had been a dry summer that year made the fire stronger, the little water the people had were thrown to pacify the flames. It was a useless feat, half of the city burned for almost a week before the flames ran out of fuel. There were casualties and a lot of property damage, and there was a shortage of water, all because Arthur fell asleep while baking bread.

Alfred invited Arthur to stay at his place for the meantime, little did he know of what was waiting for him when he got home.

"I hate you, Arthur. I hope you know that."

"Don't worry, the feelings are mutual."

The two of them stared up at the charred skeleton of Alfred's home; the fire did reach a few houses on the other side of the city.

Summer of 1701 Somewhere off the coast of Cuba, in the Atlantic ocean

"Alright! A bountiful haul, lads. " The captain of the crew cheered, his mates yelled with vigor alongside him. "Cap'n, all the ship's crew has been accounted for. Now all we 'ave to do is segregate 'em, which are goin' to be sold, and...'snuffed out'." Buck, the captain's first mate, reported. "Brilliant," his green eyes shone with malice and excitement. "Now, why don't you help out the lads over there with our reward?" he told the sailor, who immediately joined the crowd that surrounded the treasures and spices they acquired from the merchant ship they raided.

Arthur grinned as he approached the men who stood in line with their hands tied behind their back. "You lot are at the mercy of our hands, you either join my crew, get sold as slaves, or be loyal to the crown and die." He pointed his sword at the men, who whimpered under his steel gaze. However, one did not break. He had a disinterested look on his face, his blue eyes looked at Arthur with disappointment and shame. He didn't even look older than fifteen, but his eyes regarded the pirate like he had known him for years. A sudden realization hit him, "You have got to be kidding me." he muttered under his breath, the boy smiled when the pirate turned around, "It's been a while, Arthur." he greeted.

"Yes, it has been a while, Alfred." Arthur face palmed, he just had to meet him under these circumstances. "What was this boy doing on your boat?" he asked one of the men. "He's a stowaway! He isn't part of the crew, we caught him hiding with the cargo before you ransacked the ship." the man answered, fearing for his life.

"I didn't think that you'd become a pirate, Artie. You never struck me as the rebel type."

"Please, I know you have seen me doing dirty jobs back in Europe. Becoming a pirate wasn't that far off for me to do."

"Ah well, I'd really appreciate it if you can send me back home now. Mother's making my favorite dish for supper later."

Arthur sighed deeply, he did not want to deal with Alfred today. He dragged the boy by his arms, earning a yelp of protest as he was pulled away. "Consider yourselves lucky today." the pirate hissed at the captured crew, then he glared at Alfred, "Just so you know, I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this because I am not in the mood to deal with your shenanigans."

"Whatever you say, buddy."

"Shut your trap, boy."

Arthur talked a bit with his crew, many were disappointed that they were going to lose the ship they captured, but were alright when they got to keep the stuff they stole. The captured crew and Alfred were sent back to a port in the Caribbean, and Arthur refused to answer his mates' questions about why they let the boat and crew get away.

It's nothing personal, really. He's just an old friend, after all.

Early 1780 Somewhere in South Carolina

"What? What got into you that made you side with those heathen rebels?"

"I beg your pardon, what made you side with the Crown? Just a couple of years ago, you were raiding ships for goods and treasure."

"Don't. Bring. That. Up. I dare you, if you speak of those days one more time, you'll have a bayonet shoved up your—!"

"Haha, don't test me, limey!"

Arthur and Alfred bickered back and forth, in a middle of a battle field. A small number of Revolutionary soldiers and British soldiers got lost from the main fight and ended up finding each other in an open field, where they began to shoot at each other. By some amazing coincidence, Alfred was leading the Revolutionary soldiers, while on the other side, Arthur was the captain of the British platoon.

They've been shouting back and forth for half an hour, their soldiers watching in confusion behind them. Another hour passed and the soldiers were already sick of watching their captains scream each other's heads off. They pulled their captains back into their respective ranks and left the field, silently vowing to never speak of this encounter to anyone, lest they embarrass their captains.

No blood was spilled on that field that day.

August 1880 Somewhere in the American Southwest

Arthur thought that it might be a great time to visit North America, the industrial revolution was also booming in the New World so he thought that maybe checking it out won't do any harm. The last time he was there wasn't really the best time to be an Englishman in America, so he hoped that things were better this time.

He was riding a train to California at the moment, the trains here in America are a bit different to the ones he rode back in Europe. The car he was in was fairly empty, he only heard the giggling of children a few seats away and the train's engine, not too much of a distraction from his reading. He was so focused in the novel he was reading that he did not notice an old man sit in front of him.

"Hey..."

Arthur did not budge.

"Hey, psst!"

No response.

"Arthur!"

The man snapped out of his fantasy, he looked in front of him. A man in his early 70's grinned at him, he wore a top hat that matched with the crisp suit he had on, a walking cane in his hands, a thick mustache hid his lips and spectacles sat atop the bridge of his nose. Arthur would say that he didn't know the man, but when he noticed the familiar blue eyes, he knew who the man was.

"Alfred?"

The old man chuckled, "Yep, where've you been, Artie? I haven't seen you since the Revolution." Arthur blinked, "Well," he closed the book in his hands," just here and there. I've been travelling a lot these days." Alfred nodded. "What about you?" the Englishman asked," What have you been doing here in the Colonies—er, I meant America?"

"Well," Alfred thought for a bit,"I got shot in the Revolution, but was reborn shortly after. When I turned...I guess I was thirty, probably older. Anyway, I fought in the Civil War," he raised the left leg of his trouser, revealing a wooden prosthetic leg," lost a leg, but it was worth it. And now, I'm a humble business man, selling goods and stuff."

The two of them ended up talking the whole train ride. It was pleasant to catch up with an old friend, especially if they've practically known you for about a thousand years.

Fall 1944 Western Europe

"Shot down in the middle of a dog fight, dragged yourself to the nearest Allied base, and refused medical assistance, claiming that "I'm the Hero, nothing can stop me." before you promptly collapsed to the ground." Arthur read the report on his clipboard without emotion, "You know, I'd be surprised if this was someone other than you, Alfred." he told the man lying on the bed, the pilot only stayed silent as he pouted. He really wished that some other field doctor was attending to him at the moment, preferably the nurse with a pretty face a few beds away. Arthur let out a soft laugh, "I sometimes wonder if you have some sort of death wish." he began to clean the wounds on the pilot's arm. Alfred winced, but refused to talk.

"Oh come on, this isn't anything compared to the days back in the trenches. You were wilder back then."

"..."

"You're awfully quiet today, Alfred. Don't tell me your tongue got shot off."

"..."

"Well aren't you just a ray of sunshine."

Arthur fell silent as he continued to clean Alfred's wounds. He heard the pilot mumble something, "What? Can you say that again, I'm afraid I didn't hear you." he said. Alfred was a little flustered, he felt a little embarrassed asking Arthur out for drinks, especially in the situation they were in.

"Can you...maybe,um...dammit..."

"Speak up lad, all I hear is gibberish."

"Remember that one viking raid, like several centuries ago?"

"...Oh, that one where you died just as you stepped into the battlefield?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Anyway, since...since I lost that bet. Maybe...I don't know...do you wanna go out with me...I meant, do you wanna go drink with me, once all of this is over? My treat."

Arthur blinked, he had forgotten that wager between the two of them until Alfred brought it up. In all the years they have encountered each other, he couldn't remember on time where they actually just hung out like old friends, drinking their heads off, or talking casually about random topics. He did remember one time during the Great War, where Alfred shared his rations and talked with him when they were not being bombarded by the enemy. The American also saved his butt several more times that time, before ultimately sacrificing himself so that Arthur could escape from the enemy. He had been so caught up with everything that was happening at the moment, that he didn't even bother to recall the little things Alfred did for him in his past lives.

Alfred waited for the other's response, hoping that he didn't sound weird or anything. "Well, I suppose..." Arthur replied quietly, he stopped tending the pilot's wound for a moment. "Once all of this ends, we'll see."

"So, is that a yes?"

"Maybe..."

"I guess it is."

A couple of weeks later, Alfred died of blood poisoning. Arthur felt a bit bummed out because Alfred didn't get to treat him to a pub.

Spring 1970 A small town in the English Countryside

After the war, Arthur decided that he'll spend a few decades laying low. A small town in the southern part of England sounded like an excellent place to stay for a while. After settling down, he thought of ways to spend his time alone. The house he bought was isolated from the other homes, surrounded by wide field of wildflowers, a forest stretched from his backyard, and the little dirt road that passed by his home was rarely used by his neighbors. It was a perfect little paradise.

It did get a little bit lonely sometimes, he had no one to talk to. He didn't really know his neighbors that much, and the only person he could actually talk to was Alfred. He hadn't seen him since he died in the war, and—even though he might not admit it out loud—he missed him. He at least wished that they got to talk a bit longer, maybe even share a drink or two before he passed on. He didn't like thinking about Alfred, there was just something so wrong and right that Arthur felt whenever the man passed by his mind, something overwhelming blossomed in his chest. He was never really the smartest one out there, nor was he the best in identifying and expressing his emotions, so he was a little afraid of the new feeling he felt. He wanted to see Alfred, but at the same time, he didn't. It's quite confusing, but then he could fully understand it.

He was tending to his garden that afternoon, the spring had brought the best out of his roses and carnations. The sun was beating down on him, but it did not bother the Englishman. He knew how it felt to be burned alive, so a little sunshine was nothing.

"Hey!"

Arthur momentarily raised his head, he looked around and wondered if he had imagined someone calling out to him. He crouched down and continued to prune a rose bush.

"Artie! Hey!"

This time, Arthur looked at his garden fence. There, trying her best to hang on, was a girl about twenty years old. Her golden locks framed her flushed face, she wore a wide-brimmed sunhat and a pastel blue dress, and her ocean blue eyes shone with innocent happiness. The English man's face flushed, his mouth opened and closed before he could finally say out loud, "A...Alfred?"

"Yep. It's me, but I think you should call me Amelia."

"Uh-huh..."

He dropped his tools on the ground and stood up, he walked towards the girl behind the fence. "What...What are you doing here?" he asked, still trying to process everything around him.

"Well, I was just visiting the English Countryside when I ran into you. Isn't that an amazing coincidence?" she laughed, "I didn't know you lived here. Your last address was in London, back in the 1900's."

"I just...I just thought that settling down here was a great idea, after the war and all."

"Huh, not bad." Amelia soaked in the calming sunshine and environment, "It's kinda hot out here. Can I get a glass of water, and some shade? Can ya do that for an old friend, Artie?"

"Uh...yeah. Come on in." Arthur opened his garden gate and invited Amelia into his home. That day, the Englishman felt afraid for the very first time since he was cursed.

Present day Manhattan

"Are you gonna stay a bit longer?"

"Yeah, I don't think I'll catch my flight because of this bloody headache."

"Pfft, that's on you, dude. You shouldn't have drunk that much last night."

"I know, don't rub it into my face."

"It wasn't even as strong as the ones they made back in the Dark Ages." Alfred laughed. Arthur only groaned and threw a pillow at the American, "Shut up! You're making it worse." The other man only rolled his eyes, he retrieved a glass of water and placed it on the nightstand next to the bed Arthur was in. "You should drink that. I can't believe you still drink yourself silly, despite drinking the strongest mead and wine in the past." he shook his head. Nothing much happened that day, Arthur stayed in bed while Alfred spent his time in the living room, occasionally checking up on Arthur.

He watched the Englishman's sleeping form, wishing that he was brave enough to say what he had in his mind. He found himself slowly falling in love every time the two of them would meet. It all started back in the glory days of Rome, where he met Arthur in a bath house. Something about the man charmed Alfred, and he found out why later on that Arthur can't die. His situation was somewhat similar, so he was glad that he met someone who knows how boring it is being 'immortal'. Since then, he followed Arthur wherever he went. He would always find himself searching for the man, or sometimes, the world would bring him to Arthur. Then he found himself wishing to spend every life he has with the immortal man, he didn't care if what he felt was wrong, all he knew that he loved Arthur because he was him. He wished that the other man felt the same, but he was sure that Arthur only saw him as a friend.

Arthur woke up just as the sun set on the horizon, he blinked and remembered where he was. He was in Alfred's apartment in New York. The American's fragrance filled his nostrils as he breathed in the scent of his covers, his face reddened when he realized that he was in Alfred's bed. He drank the glass of water by the nightstand and popped a painkiller before heading out of the bedroom. He headed into the kitchen where he found Alfred making dinner. "Arthur, you're up. Just wait a little bit, dinner's almost ready." The American told Arthur. He felt his face warming up, he didn't know why Arthur just had to come into the kitchen half-awake with only his boxers and a half-buttoned up dress shirt. He wanted to kiss him right there and then for being too cute. The two of them ate dinner together, having small talk, and retiring for the night.

"I...it's your bed, I can just sleep on your couch. Besides, I'm not that tired yet."

"N...no, I insist. You're a guest, I can always sleep on the couch."

The two of them went back and forth, until Alfred suggested, "If...if you wanna,uh...share the bed...I...I wouldn't mind, really." he rubbed his neck nervously, he waited for Arthur to laugh and just sleep on the couch, but he received a very unexpected response.

"W...well, I...I'd love to. Just...just don't get close to me...or anything. It's...it's not really gentlemanly to refuse an offer after all." Arthur stuttered out.

In the end, they ended up sleeping on the same bed that night. The things that happened that night is a story for another time, however.

***

That one episode of Good Omens really drove me to write this fanfic. I've also spent some time in r/trippingthroughtime before writing this, so I guess that's why everything is so chaotic, and there are probably a couple of inaccuracies here and there. Also, is this late or something? I can't really identify what day it is anymore. Anyway, hope ya'll enjoyed the story.

#usuk #usukweek #aph america #aph england #fanfic #hetalia #Hello fellow astronomers

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cowboyshit · 4 years

Text

Stay the Night

I started writing this lil ficlet awhile back, right around Revolution. I decided to write a purely smut-filled one-shot just for indulgence sake, where a FOC would basically use sex to "take care” of Adam and make him feel a little better. Since I like using FOC’s who I’ve already established whenever I can, I figured Fawna Rose from Some Real Cowboy Shit fit the bill for this one perfectly. There’s a little angst as we catch up on why these two aren’t together, but for the most part this ficlet is purely self-indulgent smut.

Ship: Hangman Adam Page x Fawna Rose (FOC)

Summary: After their initial encounter, Adam and Fawna started to get close. Close enough that she was pulled in to the storm of his insecurities and, not able to handle the idea of not being the only man in her life, they decided to stop seeing one another. However, the night after Revolution, even though Adam and Kenny won and beat the Young Bucks, Adam finds himself holed up alone in his hotel room, drinking. Lonely. He makes a stupid, drunk decision and despite what unsolved aches lay between himself and Fawna, he decides the only thing that can help him is the chance to see her again.

Rating: NC-17 (Gratuitous smut)

Warnings: Alcohol use, smut

Length: 5,982 words

Available below the cut

There was still a ringing in his ears. An ache in his chest. No matter how much he drank, he couldn’t get it out of his head. The footage on the titantron in front of him. Matt, Nick, and Kenny. All three poised to superkick him after he and Kenny won the tag team titles.

Kenny. The man who held the other half of the tag team titles alongside Adam himself.

But it was supposed to matter that they didn’t kick him, right?

That’s what he kept telling himself. Beer after beer. Shot of whiskey after shot of whiskey. It was becoming apparent that no amount of drunkenness was going to ease what was burning in his heart and that was when, drunk, a careless, reckless, and absolutely stupid idea popped into his head.

There was a sharp and sudden clatter as his clumsy, big hand swept a little too hard and tipped one empty beer can to crash into three more, sending them bouncing off the coffee table and onto the floor below. He muttered a curse and looked at the mess, noticing a few splatters of beer had spilled out and were soaking into the carpet. Unable to care enough to do anything about it, he made a nose of discontent in his mouth that was something like a grumble and returned to what he’d been trying to grab: his phone.

The bright screen made him wince as he unlocked it, but he soldiered on, mind set on one conquest and unwilling to give in until it did what was necessary. He navigated (with difficulty) to his contacts, scrolled, and clicked her name.

FAWNA ROSE

Their last text conversation popped up, long bubbles of thoughts they’d sent back and forth over a month ago, and her last words to him shone vivid and bright. He knew what they said – he’d read this conversation enough to memorize it – but he still forced his eyes to focus and read them again.

If you can ever find it in your heart to accept my situation, I’m here. Until then, I don’t think we should talk or see each other anymore. We’re just hurting ourselves by dragging this out Adam, and it isn’t fair to either of us. I care about you.

I care about you.

He sucked in a hard breath and held it, broad chest lifted and lungs slowly beginning to ache. His eyes ran over those four words one more time and he exhaled in a heavy, sudden breath. Too drunk to think through what he was doing he clicked her name, clicked audio, and clicked the button to call her. He held the phone against his ear and stared wordlessly out the window from his hotel room and tried to keep his breathing low and slow. He didn’t know what he was going to say when she picked up (if she picked up). He didn’t know why he was calling.

Yeah, he did.

The phone clicked and the ringing stopped but didn’t roll into the voicemail recording. She was there on the other line, but she hadn’t said anything. He pressed the phone a little harder to his ear, wanting her close, wanting to hear her breathing. His lonely heart ached and not just for the way he missed her, but for everything. For himself. The loneliness that chased his lashing out at men he’d once called brothers. The emptiness that no amount of alcohol seemed to fill, try as he might. The sting at the words echoing back at him in real time, with Nick’s and Matt’s voices, joining that of his insecurities and making it all harder to fight and to ignore.

“Adam?” She spoke first after enough silence passed between them.

He inhaled, tried to say something – even something as little as a hello – but found his throat was suddenly too tight to work anything through it at all. That air he sucked in hitched, betraying the shaky way he was struggling to hold his composure.

“Text me your hotel and room number, okay?” There was a gentility to her tone that stung his eyes with tears and made him pinch the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb to hold them at bay. The ache inside was a chasm ripped asunder and it begged to be filled with the care she so freely gave him. “Adam?”

“Okay,” he barely managed to speak, voice hoarse. He cleared his throat after and tore the phone away, ending the call with his heart pounding hard and his inebriated mind spinning.

After sending her the hotel and his room number, Adam glanced around and lumbered to his feet. His large frame swayed with instability, but he started to snatch and shove discarded towels and clothes around the room in an attempt to tidy up. He wasn’t necessarily a slob, and it was hard to make a hotel room messy after just a day when you spent your time in it completely alone, but drunken carelessness had him less clean than he’d normally be. He knew Fawna worried about him, too. Wouldn’t do for her to come in and see a bunch of beer cans lying carelessly around.

He didn’t call her because he wanted her pity, nor did he want to be lectured.

They’d gotten close after their first encounter. Close enough that she knew what he was going through. Close enough that when he started letting the fear of everyone close to him turn on him become true, he’d taken that out on her, too. Because he didn��t like that someone he was beginning to get real feelings for was already married. Because he was already feeling inferior everywhere else in his life, and no matter how many times she explained polyamory and her unique situation, he couldn’t shake the voice in his head that reminded him with her, he’d always be second.

Always second.

He was so tired of being second. Or third. Or fourth. Or fifth.

When the fuck was it finally going to be time for him to be first?

There was a knock on the door and Adam jerked, realizing he’d been standing in the middle of the hotel room, holding the television remote, staring off into space as he drifted in and out of painful, misery-fueled thoughts and inebriated numbness. Shaking himself back to reality he glanced at the remote, frowned, and set it on the hotel entertainment center before making his way to the door. His weight lurched and he struck a palm on the door to steady his body and keep from toppling over. It was then he realized he hadn’t thought to put on a shirt and hesitated, just briefly before he slid his hand down the flat surface to the handle, pulling it open and glancing down his front at her.

Seeing her after a month of no contact brought up feelings he didn’t have the mental stability or sobriety to process. He sucked in a breath and tried to think about what to say, but his drunk tongue took over and robbed him of the chance to save face.

“I miss you.” His brow pinched, and he swallowed back hard.

“I know.” She said, but gently, like she was cradling him carefully, minding his current fragility to keep him from shattering apart. Her autumn brown eyes on his put butterflies in his stomach and made him sway where he stood. Did she see the way she affected him? “I miss you too.” She admitted, volume a little smaller, like she knew she wasn’t supposed to say it but understood how badly he needed to know that. He felt guilty, then, making her go against everything she’d explained to him about how they couldn’t see one another unless everyone was on-board and okay with their situation.

He worried she was going to ask him if he’d changed his mind. His bleary blue eyes jumped with sudden sharpness between hers, waiting for it.

“Can I come in?” She asked instead, gesturing to the hotel room behind him he was blocking with his thick figure.

“Oh, yeah.” He said quick, stumbling back and out of her way. Adam held the door as she walked inside and then turned to close it, back to her as he tried to sort through everything and get a better hold of himself. Calling her here had been a drunk mistake, but he was still too drunk to take responsibility and send her home. He had her here. He needed her.

Adam turned around, hoping when his gaze met hers, he’d have a stroke of brilliance and know just what to say. “Fawna, I –”

“Shh,” she said, effectively quieting him as he frowned in confusion. Fawna drew close enough to lay her palm over his heart, and a smile tilted the edges of her full, sinfully kissable lips. “I can feel how hard your heart is beating,” she whispered, and it sounded like a roar in his ears with the way his blood rushed.

“Wait. I can’t do this to you.” He’d lifted his hands to pull hers off him but let his fingers curl around hers and was holding her hand between them. “I still don’t think I like the thought of sharing you, I just…” Words failed him because he knew he was wrong. He knew it was wrong to ask her to stay anyways, to let them keep complicating things because he just wanted to feel good for a minute.

He was using her the same way he used alcohol.

“Adam, it’s okay.” She said, surprising him. He frowned at her and she slowly pulled her hand away from his.

She pressed her fingers onto his chest and though she didn’t have the strength to physically move him, he allowed himself to be moved at her insistence and stumbled backward until she had them turned with his back pointed toward the bed. When he glanced questioningly at her, she raised one dark, shaped brow as if to say: Do you really want to fight me on this right now?

It was easy to give in since it was what he wanted. Adam let her guide him backwards until he fell on the bed, and when he tried to speak as her hands went to his belt buckle, she clicked her tongue with gentle chiding and let their eyes meet.

“Let me take care of you tonight, Adam.” She said.

Fawna waited for his nod, and relief swept immediately through his body. He laid back on the pillows and breathed hard through his nose as she released the tension of the belt, snapping the buckle and pulling the strap through. The sound of his jean zipper tugged down overpowered the jingle of her leaving his belt undone, and he groaned deep in his throat as she slipped her fingers beneath the elasticity of his boxer-briefs and wrapped her fist firm around his cock. The blood was rushing to fill it quickly, and he pressed his chin to his chest and watched with desperate eyes as she gave him that little smile that claimed innocence even as she behaved licentiously.

“Ohh,” he squeezed tight passed clenched teeth, “fuck.” A quick hiss sucked air hard into his lungs as she dipped and put her soft, wet mouth over the head of his cock and slipped him down her tongue. His body tensed and his hips arched upward, greedy, stuffing more of his inches and stretching her lips wide around his girth. His fingers curled and dug hard into the comforter over the hotel bed and his eyes, wild, jumped over the top of her head and watched her please him.

A desperate, shaking hand unclenched the grasp it had on the comforter and moved instead for her hair. He pushed the strands out of her face, wanting to have a clear line of sight to his cock bulging her cheek at the same time he felt it running between her tongue and the warm, ridged roof of her mouth, the tip pushing between the warm wet walls of her throat before she pulled back up. His groans filled the room and mixed with the little wet noises of her lips and tongue servicing his cock.

A little pop as she pulled up off his head, sucking back the saliva that left it glistening.

“Feels good, baby?” She purred, and Adam’s fingers slipped to frame the back of her head, curling tight around the strands.

“Mhm,” he grumbled, nodding as he pushed her head down, eagerly wanting her mouth on his cock again.

That soft, wet tongue of hers knew just how to stroke the skin, just where to curl and flick the sensitive lip of the head of his cock, and as badly as Adam wanted to keep watching her he was victim to the way his eyes rolled back in his head. Fingers still curling in her hair – pulling the strands a little too hard, his knuckles gone white – he pushed her down further and further, stuffing his cock inside her warm mouth until her lips kissed the base. He felt her struggle to hold his cock so deep and pictured the way they’d look from the side, where he’d be able to see the bulge of its shape down her throat. She choked again, body jerking, tender, wet skin squeezing his girth and making him moan deep in his chest.

Adam’s eyes snapped forward and he released the pressure of holding her down, watching as she slipped quickly up, little bits of spit bridged between her lips and the head of his leaking, desperately red cock. As she brushed the saliva away, Adam’s eyes traced the wetness glistening over her eyes and admired the way they shone in the soft white hotel light coming from the bedside lamp. He liked it like this - lights on - able to watch and see everything.

Fawna curled her fingers around his erection and used her spit and his precum as lubricant as she stroked with perfect pressure. Adam’s chin jutted outward, jaw clenched tight as another desperate, heavy moan ripped through his lungs and pressed between his teeth. She bent and he felt the tip of her tongue run down the blood-filled veins of his shaft toward his balls, and when she latched her lips around them and sucked the tender skin of his sac he made a desperate sound and curled his fists hard into the sheets at his side. Sweat dappled his forehead, sticking his crown of blond curls to his skin.

“Oh fuck, Fawna, baby,” he panted heavy and fought to keep his eyes forward when all they wanted to do was roll back again.

“Mmm, mhmmm,” she moaned and murmured while still sucking and licking the most sensitive, pleasurably spots, fingers rolling over the tingling, needy head of his cock. She sent vibrations through his cock as she did it and caused him to glance desperately down his body toward her head bent between his legs.

“Wait, wait,” he breathed heavily, like he’d just finished performing an intense match in the ring, his large sweat-damp and lightly blond-hair dusted chest rising and falling with staggered breaths. As Fawna slowly pulled her mouth off him and looked with confusion, Adam was sure to move quick and shoved at his denim jeans to push them further down his thighs. He wanted them off, same with his boots and socks. Once Fawna realized this she pushed his hands away - she’d said she wanted to take care of him - and undressed him herself.

She slipped off the bed and when his glazed eyes followed her with helpless confusion she answered with a little curve to her smile and slowly started to undress herself. “Stay put,” she commanded with a sweet murmur, and practically peeled the material off her skin inch by inch until his blood was roaring in his ears and the beat of his heart was pounding distinct enough to count. His fingers curled into the reprieve of the comforter again, needing to grab something since she’d told him he wasn’t allowed to reach for her. Hungry blue eyes nearly gone black, void of any softness they could otherwise have, ate up his delectable little treat as she - at last - peeled the lace lavender bra she wore and dropped it to the side. She curled her fingers in the elastic of her matching panties and made sure to turn about as she slipped them down and off her body so he’d have ample view of her ass as she did it.

It made him growl, more beast than man. His ass clenched as his hips lifted instinctually upward, wishing they were buried between those thighs he couldn’t pull his gaze from.

When she returned to kneel on all fours between his spread legs, she bent and angled her head inward, laying a slow, lingering, sensual kiss against the inside of his thigh. She trailed those affectionate, sweet touches up his skin to where his cock jerked and twitched, so hard it almost hurt, pre-cum beading and dribbling desperately down its head.

After pausing to wet her fingers she began to service him again, being careful to let off when it was clear she was building him too quickly toward the peak. The tease - the way she edged him - was the most glorious torture he’d ever experienced. He fought the instinct to put his hands on her hair and hold his cock in her throat until he made her gag on his cum by instead bruising her body with how rough he handled her. He grabbed fistfuls of the soft fat over her hips before he ran his calloused palms down her chest and over her nipples, pinching and pulling them just enough to make her squeak in that way that made a smug grin push into his round cheeks.

His sac sucked tight to the base of his cock as she bobbed her head in a quick, rapid motion over his sensitive, throbbing head. He felt the tight curl in his abdomen for the fourth time that night and his thighs tensed, the hard muscles beneath the natural fat showing. Fawna, used to the way his body communicated during sex, popped her lips off his head just before it was too late. He groaned long and low, mixed with an almost growl-like noise of frustration as his hips arched up and his cock leaked desperately, but he still didn’t cum.

“Are you trying to kill me, woman?” His voice was strained. Weak. He was a mess of heavy breaths and a sweat-sticky body.

And she smiled that little smile with her lips red and swollen from how they’d sucked and licked at his cock for so long. That playful little innocent seeming smile that told you she knew she wasn’t pure at all. It made his eyes dark with hunger and his fingers cramp, wanting to curl hard into her skin and flex his strength over her. She leaned back on her calves, sitting upright between his legs, and slowly wiped the little glisten of saliva and precum from her lips before she fixed her eyes on him again.

“Of course not, baby. I’m just enjoying you.”

A shiver of pleasure rushed down his spine and a flood of pride filled his body. That was something Fawna did well from the very beginning; make him feel important. Needed. She could be anywhere in the world, even back home, with her husband, but she wanted to be here, squished between his hairy, thick thighs, making him writhe and moan and nearly cum before letting off and going again, drawing everything out for as long as they physically could.

“Besides,” she said, tone playfully matter-of-fact as she started to climb up him, knees on the mattress at either side of his hips, drawing her eyes back up to his, “those moans of yours have me drenched, and you’re not going to finish until you’re inside me.” His nostrils flared, jaw clenching tight enough to make the muscle jump beneath his closely trimmed blond beard.

She pressed back on his thick cock, the head slipping between her pussy lips but not yet allowed inside. He could feel the truth - how wet she was - and it made him groan as his cock slid up with ease between them and rubbed her clit. She ran her hips back and forth, slow and languid, teasing her clit to rise and making herself whimper and moan above him. Adam’s fingers bit into her hips and drove the pace a little faster, wanting to milk more and more of those trembles out of her body and hear those needy little cries she couldn’t help but make.

Fuck, she was so wet. He could feel it coating their thighs; sticky.

Before she could make herself cum by rubbing his cock over her clit, Fawna pulled her hips up and reached back, positioning him so that when she sat back, the leaking, red head of his erection buried an inch inside her. She sank her hips slowly; down, down, down until he was comfortably lodged deep and they both stilled for a moment, adjusting to the way they breathed with shaky, desperate breaths. She ran her hands down his bare chest and started to move, rocking her body slowly to stroke his cock a few inches in and a few inches out. She was building him again, content to make his head spin and keep his only focus on the love and sex that filled the space between and around them.

The moan from his chest was deep and yearning. He arched his hips up as she sank down, and his fingers readjusted where they gripped her. He was trying to reach through fat, through muscle, to bone. She moaned and Adam felt he’d never heard a sound that made him happier. The way her cries bounced off the corners of the hotel room and reverberated back, tangling with his own passionate grunts, the shifting of their bodies atop the sheets, was driving him toward a lack of control. He wanted it all, then and there. He wanted to flip them around so she was beneath his shadow, he wanted to push his palms hard against her thighs and roll her hips up until her knees touched her temples. He wanted to drive his hips hard and fast into her over and over and over until he bruised her and left her aching for days. This possessive beast inside him was nearly impossible to deny, and his hands gripped tighter on her hips, his own driving faster up into her. He forced his eyes open, though they wanted to clench shut from the pleasure tingling through his entire body, and watched the way her face pinched in pleasure, lips caught wide open, their edges still glistening wet from when she’d been servicing his cock.

He grunted and drove his hips up harder, readjusting his grip on her hips, happy to see the red and white marks of his hands in the fat there. Would it bruise? He hoped so. He hoped she’d have the marks of his fingerprints in black and blue across that pretty flesh, and think about this moment. How good it felt to have him deep inside her, stretching her.

Suddenly, she resisted him. Before concentrating, Adam was the hive of restless need, and only forced his grip on her a little tighter, trying to make her ride him to the rhythm he decreed. But, when she stayed firmly resolute against being drilled by his pace, his eyes met hers with question. She slipped her hands down his sweat-damp chest to where he held her body and curled her fingers around them. Lifting, she pried them off her body and set them atop the comforter cushion. Her eyes met his and she smiled.

“My pace, cowboy. Remember?” She grinned as she said it, stopping him once again from getting carried away and driving them to the orgasm his cock was desperate for, twitching and leaking inside her. The breathless quality to her voice, the way she seemed to need to catch herself for a minute, was more than enough evidence to see how he’d affected her and nearly threw her off her game plan for the evening.

Adam could barely smile, every muscle tense and tight, but still flashed her an impish one.

“Can you blame me?” He choked out as she brought the pace back slow, sliding languid up and down his length, head never falling from her drenched lips. He shifted his body beneath her, peeling his skin from the damp comforter and drew a ragged, needed breath deep in his lungs. His tongue swept his lips and he took another breath, letting the tension in his muscles slowly leak out. “You’re driving me insane.”

“Aw, I’m sorry baby,” she said with a purr in her voice and a look in her eyes that said she was definitely not sorry. “But tonight I make all the rules.” She kept that pace, that way she stroked the entire length of his cock up and then down. Moving her hands to either sides of his shoulders she leaned her body over his and let him be trapped in her shadow. Her nipples brushed his chest and made a shiver ripple through his body. Every slow shift back and up of her body rubbed them against his skin and made him want to make a mad grab for them. Instead, his fingers curled desperate into the sheets where she’d placed them.

Fawna lowered, but didn’t reward his lips with a kiss. Instead she left tokens of her affection on his neck, kissing, licking, down to his chest and up the other side. She suckled, not enough to leave any permanent marks, but enough to let the blood rush hot and tingles to race up and down his spine. As she nibbled at his earlobe she whispered huskily into his ear, “I’m here to take care of you tonight, baby. I’m going to make it worth your while.” And she dropped her lips back to his neck, kissing where the muscles jumped because he swallowed so hard at her repeated promise. She lifted her mouth from his neck and hovered over him. One of her hands reached so she could gently grasp his bearded chin, tilting his blue eyes to meet hers. “That means I decide when we cum and everything we do before then.”

A shiver ripped through him like a tremble and the satisfied look in her eyes made him bite back a groan.

The slowed pace had taken him off the edge he’d been desperately at, and Adam wasn’t sure to be thankful or to curse her. Fawna slowly sat back and his cock twitched, buried inside her. He looked up her body, every imperfection on display by the glowing lights all turned on in the hotel room. She wasn’t shy - he loved that about her - and smiled at him watching her, lifting her arms and arching her body sensually. Her pink nipples were hard, and it took everything he had not to demand she bring them to his mouth where he could suck, lick, bite and give her beard burn on her breasts. His eyes fell down them to her belly, to her hips and thighs where his greedy fingerprints were still visible on her skin and back up again. When he’d had his fill of admiring her, Fawna began to move her hips again.

Adam wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she first came to his hotel. Time seemed to stand still in this place, even though he logically knew he didn’t. Nothing existed but himself and Fawna. Not the alcohol, not the turbulence in his self-identity and his questioning of the love and loyalty of men he’d once called brothers on his tongue and in his heart. None of it. He existed only in pleasure with her rocking hips, in the pressure of her pussy wrapped around his hard, pulsing, desperate, cock, and the sore tightness of his balls sucked up to the base of his shaft, needing that final release. They were both glistening with sweat, their hair stuck to their foreheads, temples, and neck.

Fawna pressed her palms against his chest gently and lifted her hips off him until his cock slid out, patched in creamy white from her own slick. It twitched, longing for the warm home it’d been enveloped in. She didn’t rob him for long, instead gingerly moving her body so she stood bedside and reached for his hand to tug him off the bed too. The sheets stuck to his sweat-damp body, his thick figure a frame in the comforter from how hard he’d been pressing himself into it.

“What idea do you have in that head of yours now?” He asked, but his voice was roughened by the relentless continuance of pleasure and the denial again and again and again of final satisfaction.

“You’ll see,” she said, and leaned over the bed, pressing one of her forearms atop it for leverage. She reached back, hand on his, and pulled him to stumble forward until his hairy, muscular thighs pressed against her legs and his cock slipped up between her cheeks, leaving a trail of his precum and her wet. When she let his hand go it was natural for it to fall to the ample curve of her ass and for the other to join it. His fingers pressed and curled into the give of the fat there and that hungry look passed his face again.

Fawna arched her back and moved herself into the cushion of the mattress and then back, squeezing him inside her cunt with ease, as if they were pieces of a puzzle meant to fit. Adam leaned his head back, letting the end of his curls brush his shoulders, and arched his hips into her pace. His fingers slipped up the curve of her ass with the intent to tighten a grip on her hips but then, unable to help himself, he lifted his right palm and brought it down hard, open-palmed, over her ass. The ripple of skin, the soft sting of red in the shape of his hand and the little squeal of pleasure and pain she made pushed his hunger back to the forefront once more. He raised his hand and brought it down again, making the fat jiggle and the skin redden.

This time Fawna did not stop him from choosing the pace and the more she let him get away with, the more he let the hunger inside take. His hips crashed with hopeless abandon into hers in quick, needy bursts. He knew he was going to bruise her, but he didn’t care. He wanted more and more of those whore sounds to moan out of her throat and bounce around his hotel room and back into his ears, filling it until it was the only sound he could hear.

His fingers curled their grip into her skin and used it to forcibly pull her back hard on him, to assist the thrusts as he shoved his cock needy and deep inside her. He fucked her into the mattress, one hand reaching up her back and shoving her down into it between her shoulder-blades, pushing her ass more up toward him so he could fuck her deeper and make her cry out and moan even more loudly. His name joined her cries and it made him even more ravenous than before. Sweat dripped down between his chest and still, he kept driving his hips to crash hard into hers, shoving his cock relentlessly again and again inside her red, swollen pussy lips.

By offering him the final power - allowing him to answer that needy call inside himself to be the one in control for the final act - she gave him exactly what he needed.

But he could hold off. Just long enough.

The hand that had previously pushed her into the hotel bed lifted and instead snaked between her body and the mattress, fumbling as his fingers reached with greed and without apology for her raw, raised clit. He slipped past it momentarily, almost cruel as he pushed two fingers inside her, along with his girthy cock still stretching her. A devilish grin curved the corner of his mouth at her little cry and long moan of pleasure that followed. He pulled his fingers free and used the wet he’d drawn from inside her to circle around her clit, petting her harder, synching it with the thrusts of his pulsing cock inside her. Just a little longer… just a little longer… he could hold off, he could…

“Adam!” Her cry ripped audaciously loud before her thighs began to shake and her body convulsed, the muscles of her cunt gripping tight around him.

A low groan crawled loudly from his throat, his jaw locked and he bent halfway over her before his own body could be denied no longer. Buried inside her Adam came, decorating her insides with ribbon after ribbon of hot, sticky cum. For a long moment, almost long enough to make them look like carved statues of exhausted lovers, they stayed still like that. Adam leaning over her body, his palms flat on the mattress, her body trapped under his, their skin glistening with sweat that caught the lights.

Dragging a deep breath into his lungs that smelled like sweat and sex, Adam slowly lifted himself to stand straight and gingerly pulled his sensitive, still semi-hard cock from between her red, dripping pussy lips. She crawled onto the bed and turned herself around to look at him, that same exhausted, happy expression relaxed onto her features. Before reality could stab into this sinful haven they’d created, Adam gestured toward the bathroom with a tilt of his head.

“Want to rinse off with me real quick?”

“Yeah,” she said with a smile, gingerly moving to set herself on her feet. When she swayed, he reached out to catch her, though his reaction was a little slower than it’d normally be. They exchanged smiles, amused at how they’d thoroughly exhausted themselves.

She yawned as they padded barefoot and naked around the bed and toward the bathroom. “Is it okay if I stay here with you tonight?” She asked, and though her tone sounded innocent, as if she’d just now thought of it, Adam had to wonder if she’d planned it all along. If she’d had the forbearance to know he didn’t want to spend the night alone, and all the sex in the world wouldn’t stop that emptiness from coming to steal away his happiness as soon as she left and he was the only one in his hotel room.

He wouldn’t put it past her.

Adam pulled her by the hand to stop her from walking into the bathroom and crashed her body back into his. His free hand reached to gingerly tuck a lock of her frazzled, tangled hair behind her ear and fell into tenderly holding her face. This was what made things hard between them. The way his heart beat for her. The way it wasn’t just sex.

“Yeah.” He said, and a faint, tired smile touched his lips. “I’d like that.” He leaned down, his hand slipping to pinch her chin between his thumb and forefinger, holding her face up toward him as he brushed his lips gently against hers and then sank in for a deep, passionate kiss that’d leave them both dizzy by the time it was through.

#hangman page #hangman adam page fanfiction #wrestling fanfiction #aew fanfiction #this was. purely self indulgent #mine: fanfiction #my fics: hangman adam page

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panlight · 5 years

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If the Volturi weren’t recast as evil but were considered family friends, what would the Cullens do on a vacation to Volterra? Which Cullen is friends with which Volturi? Who other than Carlisle tries to get them to eat animals? Who just loves the artwork?

I’ve always thought there were, consciously or not, a lot of parallels between the Cullens and Volturi. But I’m not sure if they would lead to genuine friendships or competitive rivalries. Maybe both? Maybe frenemies? Rosalie and Heidi are both exceptionally beautiful, even more than the average vampire, and that beauty has been a blessing and a curse to both of them in certain ways. Rosalie’s story is well-known; Heidi’s beauty–indirectly because of her gift, but also her important role in the Volturi. SM writing it would almost certainly make them rivals. Especially with beauty, she’s kind of constantly building up some characters by putting down others. But wouldn’t it be great if they buck that trend and bonded? If instead of competing they related. Maybe instead of beauty, they bond over a shared love of astronomy, or some other science/tech subject.

Felix and Emmett are obvious. They have similar energy. The big, intimidating dude who is also teasing and fun. They’d be competitive–but in a fun away. “Bet I can throw this bulldozer farther than YOU can.” Emmett challenges Felix to a vegetarian hunt and Felix is like “no thanks my dude Aro made me do that once, never again.” “Chicken…” “I’m DEFINITELY not gonna eat a chicken!” “No, I meant–”

I’m intrigued by a friendship between Esme and Marcus. Esme is someone who lost the most important person in her life (her baby) and recovered; Marcus lost the most important person in his life and hasn’t moved passed it. I know book Marcus is supposed to be in his late teens, although honestly I read all the Volturi as older (30-40s) initially. But even if he is that young, she’s got a lot of experience nurturing, befriending and supporting forever teens, and might do him a world of good.

Esme, obviously, is also going to mother Jane and Alec. Alec’s open to it, but Jane is initially resistant. But it doesn’t last too long. Esme is hard to resist.

I feel like Edward, Demetri and Alice might form a weird little group, but again with an edge of rivalry and annoyance but also this weird understanding. They’re all kind of these fashionable, artistic types. Alice and Demetri would bond (and argue) over fashion, and I think Demetri could go toe-to-toe with Edward on music and literature. Edward does argue about vegetarianism, too.

Jasper is just standing in the corner the whole time, arms crossed, not trusting any of these people. He doesn’t see them as villains but does see them as authority figures and his previous life with Maria wasn’t strictly legal so he’s not super thrilled to be there. Some of the lesser guards, the ones of the front lines, start to cautiously approach him, being impressed with his scars, and they start to exchange war stories.

Carlisle gets back into his friendly debates with Aro, which Aro thoroughly enjoys while Caius scowls like I thought we got rid of this guy. Aro asks Carlisle about human advancements and technology he’s seen in the minds of humans and young vampires and immediately sets up a facebook page and challenges Carlisle to dozens of simultaneous Words with Friends games.

During their vacation, Aro arranges for an old-school portrait painter to come and paint the Cullens in grand style. I’m sort of imagining them either in classical Greek/Roman dress, or some sort of medieval royalty vibe. Most of the family doesn’t know what to think of it, but Carlisle just sort of shrugs and like “this is the fifth one of these I’ve sat for.” And honestly vampires would make great subjects for painting/drawing because they can stay perfectly still for long periods when humans can’t.

I just realized I left out Bella/Renesmee. I always do this, because in my head the world of Twilight kind of exists in this Eclipse-era limbo where Bella’s still human and E/B aren’t married yet. But if they were there, I think Bella and Renata would hit it off as shields, and Renata seems pretty chill, like the Angela Weber of the Volturi. Renesmee tries to make friends with Jane and Alec but I don’t know how successful she’d be. She’s got more in common with them than she would with Claire, though. She’s way more advances than normal three-year-old Claire and will age past her quickly. Maybe she also befriends Chelsea and Afton? Renesmee’s been inspiring supernatural devotion and loyalty in people since the moment she was born, and being the center of attention is exhausting and maybe sometimes she’d like to disappear.

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pinkettepoet · 6 years

Text

In Which It’s A Lovely Dysfunctional Family

Summary: This is what happens during Thanksgiving with the Avengers. It’s madness but in the perfect way.

Warning: Avengers x Reader, Food Abuse, Infinity War Easter Egg.

Note: It’s not my best work but I just needed to get back in the game. Nonetheless, I think domestic Avengers is an amazing concept that we should all nurture.

“Y/N, get off your phone.”

You frowned at Bruce’s words. Nonetheless, you set the phone down, not before conveying your sadness through a sharp huff. Pouting, you said, “Fine. It wasn’t like I was searching for the newest celebrity drama. Hey, did you know that—”

Tony raised an eyebrow at your words. He stifled a chuckle as he returned to helping Peter with his homework. “Have you finished your essay, Y/N?”

“‘Course I did,” You replied with utmost pride and happiness. There really wasn’t enough words to describe the feeling of no more homework to do. As you turned you turned to Bruce— who had the exact same proud smirk— you bragged, “All thanks to the best teacher.”

“You’re welcome,” Tony and Bruce said together in perfect synchronization.

“That was weird.” You chortled like a pig.

Peter looked up from his Science textbook, grinning at the science bros and then turned his gaze to you. “Like Children of the Corn weird or Sharknado weird?”

“Like Bruce and Tony weird.” You affirmed him with a wide smile before sticking your tongue out playfully at the aged heroes.

Peter scrunched up his face, laughing a bit. “That’s bad, then.”

“Hey!” Bruce exclaimed.

“I can’t believe this is the thanks I get for saving the world and mentoring you two youngins.” Tony sighed exasperatedly.

Before anyone else could whip up a fantastic comeback, Natasha came in the room. She smelled of strawberry cake, wine, and perfectly cooked steak. As she wiped the stains off her apron, she said, “Be downstairs in ten. Dinner is ready.”

“Finally!” You cheered excitedly. All the studying made your tummy yearn for some delicious sustenance. Quickly, you followed Peter downstairs to the gigantic kitchen.

Your stomach was already growling by the time you arrived the the compound kitchen. With all the different smells of food, it was hard to not drool. As you delved deeper in the room, you found Sam, Bucky, Steve, and Pietro.

Bucky was sharpening the knives as he glared intensely at Sam. His brooding state was a bit hard to take in since he was wearing a bright apron with a smiling kitten in front.

“Bucky, man,” Sam called out as he took a swig of beer. “You gotta stop staring at me or I’ll be forced to think you’re in love with me.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m so in love with you, I can’t really wait to stab you.” Bucky answered sarcastically with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

In a blink of an eye, Pietro was in between them. “I don’t want murder before dinner. I just cleaned up your mess from your last fight.”

“It’s alright.” Sam dismissed. “He couldn’t even do his eyeliner, how is the man supposed to fight me?”

And that was how a small brawl began.

From beside you, Steve sighed audibly. He nodded at you in acknowledgement. “Evening, Y/N.”

“Hiya, Steve. Gonna break up the two lovebirds again?” You asked, trying really hard to not smile.

“For the fifth time today.” Steve smirked at you. Before leaving to settle the fight, he gave you a quick ruffle on the head. “See you in a bit, dove.”

You realized that you couldn’t do anything to help break off a fight between two of the strongest men on earth, therefore you made yourself useful with setting the plates onto the table. As you did the chore, you couldn’t help but notice that Natasha was busy as a bee, speeding back and forth the room.

“Something wrong, Nat?” You asked her as you laid down the forks and spoons on each side of the plates.

Nat stopped her pacing, wiping away the bead of sweat on her forehead. She planted her hands on her waist. “Every single Avenger, plus the extended, is coming to the compound. Chaos is bound to ensue. I’m just trying to hide everything that might cause trouble.”

You giggled. “Nat, there no way you could not stir trouble when the Avenger are around. Just go with the flow.”

She released a deep breath, flopping onto the chair. “You have a point.”

The sound of buzzing paused your conversation. It could only mean one thing: the guests were here. Immediately, you offered to welcome everyone in, seeing as it that everyone else was preoccupied.

“Hello!” You smiled. Behind the door was a bunch of different people. There was Shuri, T’Challa, and Okoye. Stephen Strange made it as well. The Asgardian brothers were also standing before you, effortlessly carrying boxes of pizza.

Shuri was the first to squeeze you tightly in a hug. “I missed you. Why don’t you visit more?”

You only hugged her even tighter. “Airports don’t exactly have tickets to Wakanda.”

The next to greet you was Dr. Strange. And strangely, he was wearing casual clothes. But the time stone still safe with him. He gave you a quick hug before stepping inside. “Good to see you again, Y/N.”

“Great to see you too.” You smiled.

And then you turned to Loki and Thor. “What’s with the pizzas to last a lifetime?”

Loki grinned mischievously. “It’s only a precaution. The food could be poisonous.”

“As if you could die, oh great God of Mischief.” You winked at him. And with that, you three set to the dining room— it was actually a miracle that the table had enough chairs for everyone.

To your surprise, most of the people were already seated. You took the chair in between Wanda and Okoye. And you weren’t going to lie, being beside two strong women definitely empowered you to the core.

Chiming rang throughout the room. It was Steve, sitting at the very end of the table. He had a champagne glass in one hand and a fork in the other.

Steve cleared his throat as he straightened his posture. “I’d like to thank everyone for coming here. For spending the Thanksgiving holidays with us this year. It means a lot to me. When I first became an Avenger, I convinced myself that I’d live a lonely life but thank you for proving me wrong.”

“Cheers to our lovely dysfunctional family!” You toasted, raising your glass of water to this evening’s celebration.

And then the best part of the night began: the actual dining.

Conversations and muffled mumbles scattered across the table. Topics ranging from fighting tips, cheesy pick-up lines, shopping plans, and dating fails were mixed all around.

Peter subtly tried to reach for the glass of champagne. He nearly had his hand on the glass before Tony swatted his hand away. “Aw, c’mon.”

“No drinks for you tonight, kid. All you’re having is soda.”

“Buck, can you pass me the salt?” Sam asked, looking expectantly at the soldier.

Bucky only glared at him and said, “Why don’t you get it yourself?”

“Because I can’t reach it.”

And then a fight began.

Dinner was briefly paused by a food war ensuing. Because you were completely starving, you carried on eating despite the food being thrown around. Even when mashed potatoes was dripping down your side, you continued to enjoy your meal.

Soon, almost everyone joining in. Shuri was having the time of her life shooting pieces of food at T’Challa. Peter was trying to slip away from the chaos. Natasha and Okoye were having a thumb war for some reason. Steve was smiling from ear to ear. Clint was using Thor’s muscles as a target. Strange and Loki were mysteriously conversing about some purple alien and it’s defeat. Basically, it was a one-of-a-kind experience.

“Still thankful for this lovely dysfunctional family?” Wanda whispered, leaning closer to you. She had a barrier around her from the food war— much to Pietro’s dismay since he wanted to hit Wanda with broccoli.

“Oh, yes. Wouldn’t change a thing.”

(marvel tag list: @not-jk-rowling, @the-crime-fighting-spider, @thewhinersoldier, @saharzek, @hottrashformarvel, @peregrinestook, @smol-flower-kiddo, @sireennotsiren, @samiiicg, @regulusirius, @jitterbuck, @moose-on-the-l00se, @gracielou0518, @geeksareunique, @mikaelsontrash, @thegirlthatdoeseverything, @witchseer25607, @buckylaufeysonstuff, @knittedsweatersandleatherjackets, @shydinosaurcandy, @rhodeisland101, @imaginesbyabi, @pinkflowerglow, @happysynonym)

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icarusalchemist · 5 years

Text

just lucky

read on ao3 here

summary: After getting a pet, Clint started wanting to do more things with more people. However, it was rare anyone ever had time for him and Lucky.

Or five times Clint's family didn't have time for him and the one time they did.

"He's not my dog," Clint said again, for what felt like the tenth time. He had to admit, though, that he was getting attached to the thing.

"Well, his tag says his name is 'Arrow'," the veterinarian said. Clint leaned down a little bit so his face was level with the bandaged dog on the table. The dog lifted its head, blinking at Clint with its one good eye. Clint sighed and ran a hand through his messy and still-damp hair before reaching out and rubbing the dog's ears with both hands.

"I could come up with something much better," he told the vet, not a single note of regret in his voice.

"Welcome to fatherhood, then," the vet said with a chuckle.

When Clint managed to unlock his apartment and carry his new pet through the doorway, he had already made up his mind on two things.

One, this new addition to his life would be called "Lucky," because damn if he wasn't a lucky little guy. And, two, he would call Barney to celebrate Lucky's joining of the Barton family.

But, as usual in Clint's life, everything went amiss from there on. Even though they hadn't spoken in a while, Clint had still hoped that Barney would answer the phone and come celebrate. That didn't even go partially as planned, because as soon as the first ring finished, the answer machine cut off the droning tone. And, of course, Barney's machine was full - probably with voicemails from Clint - so he couldn't even leave his stupid big brother a message.

Another typical exchange between the Barton brothers, he guessed.

ii.

A few short months later was Clint's first Christmas with Lucky. Normally, Clint would be content with staying in his pajamas and consuming a few too many pots of coffee throughout the day, not leaving his apartment once. However, this Christmas was different for some reason.

He wanted to celebrate.

Clint honestly should have expected that everyone he knew was too busy for him, though. Each of the Avengers had their own plans with the people they loved, Bobbi wasn't in town, and Natasha wasn't even answering her phone. Even the other inhabitants of the building were too busy to let him crash their celebrations for an hour or two.

So, instead of doing anything special with anyone like he had originally wanted to, Clint changed back into his pajamas, brewed a second pot of coffee, and laid out on the couch with Lucky resting on top of him, slobbering on his t-shirt.

"Merry Christmas, little guy," he said with a sigh, not feeling merry in the slightest.

iii.

"C'mon, Nat, it's your birthday."

Call Clint an idiot, call him an airhead, call him whatever you like, but he would never forget his friend's birthday.

"And how the hell do you even know that?" Natasha asked him. She was only-God-knew-where, doing only-God-knew-what, but it was a day meant for celebration and, dammit, Clint wanted to celebrate another year of Natasha not being killed in their crazy line of work.

"Because I wormed it out of you one time when you were actually drunk," he confessed. "Either that or you voluntarily told me while pretending to be completely wasted, but either way-"

"I'm not having a celebration," she cut him off.

"Fine. Just come to my place and have cake. Lucky loves cake and he loves you, so at least come celebrate with us!" Clint bartered.

"Why should I?" she asked, still sounding very disinterested.

"Uh, I just told you? Lucky misses you, I miss you, we all love cake, and it's your birthday, for God's sake," he said, rattling through his list. How embarrassing would it be if she caught the 'I miss you' part?

"I miss the both of you, too, Clint," Natasha told him, finally seeming focused on their conversation, "but I'm still not coming all the way to New York just for my birthday."

"Then tell me where you are!" he tried. "I can pick up a cake on my way and we can come see you." He was pacing back and forth in front of his kitchen bar now, only going as far as his phone cord would reach, and Lucky was trotting dutifully alongside him. "Lucky can hear your voice right now and it's making him antsy that he can't see you."

"You know that's a lie, Barton. I bet a thousand-to-one that you're pacing in that kitchen of yours with your damn corded-phone," she said, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Lucky may be a dog with good hearing, but even he can't hear off of that thing."

"Okay, fine, that part was a lie," Clint admitted. "But he does still miss you!"

"Not telling you where I am, Clint. Besides, I don't really like cake. You know that."

"I could get something else, we could meet up-"

"Clint," Natasha cut him off, "I really appreciate the effort, but I don't need or want to celebrate my birthday. I don't really see why you would want to, either, but I appreciate the sentiment."

"So... that's a no?"

"It's a no. Sorry, Clint. Give Lucky my love." A moment later, the phone line went dead.

Clint sighed and looked down at Lucky. "Sorry, bud. Looks like it's just us again today."

iv.

"Dateaversary, huh?" Bucky chuckled down the line. "Sounds like it would be cute. Too bad I won't be back home for another week."

"You don't think you could get just today?" Clint asked, scratching Lucky behind the ears. "Lucky misses you."

Bucky huffed another laugh. "I'm sure he does. Tell him I miss him, too."

Clint smiled a little to himself and leaned down to the dog in his lap. "Buck misses you, the crazy sap," he whispered.

"I'm not the sap, Barton," Bucky argued jokingly. "You're the one who wants to celebrate the anniversary of our first date."

"We've been together for six months, to the day! That's a damn good enough reason to celebrate!" Clint argued back.

"Yeah, maybe, but I still can't get the day, sorry." And Clint could admit that Bucky did actually sound sorry. "But hey, maybe we could celebrate when I get back next week."

"Maybe," Clint agreed begrudgingly. "Won't be the same, though."

"Who says?"

"I and everyone who celebrates anniversaries."

Bucky laughed a little and then sighed. "I'm sorry I can't be home. Maybe for seven months. And before you say anything, I know it won't be the same, but we can make it even more special. Six months plus one."

Clint chuckled half-heartedly and gave a soft, unheard nod. "That would be good, yeah. Might make up for this travesty."

"Hey, now," Bucky said warningly. "I'm trying my best, freezing my ass off over here in freaking Russia."

"I know you are," Clint said fondly. "We miss you, though, so maybe try a little harder and come home early." Clint laid his head back, letting it thud against the wall, his neck horribly uncomfortable against the back of the couch.

"I'll try. I miss you, too, Clint," Bucky whispered, voice soft. "I gotta go now, though, but I'll see you when I get home."

"Okay, see you then. Be careful."

"You've reached Kate."

"So I have," Clint muttered. "Leave a message and I'll consider getting back to you," he mocked alongside the recording. Then he sighed, hung up, and immediately tried again.

"This is the fifth time, Barton, what the hell?" Kate said in lieu of a 'hello' after the third ring.

"Well, hello to you, too, Katie-Kate," he sang.

"Hi," she deadpanned. "What do you want?"

"Do you know what today is?" Clint asked, sliding around his kitchen in his socks, trying to prepare an actual cake.

"Uh, August twenty-somethingth?" Kate guessed. "I don't know."

"Twenty-second," he told her. "And do you know what that means?"

"I don't," Kate sighed, "and I also don't have time for guessing games, so come on and spit it out."

"It's Lucky's birthday."

"Oh." That finally got her attention, Clint thought. "I didn't realize it had been a year-"

"Since I adopted him, yup. And he misses you, too," Clint said. "He'd love to celebrate with you, and I'm making him a cake-"

"I swear, Clint, if it's a pizza-shaped cake-"

"Hush, Lucky loves it." Clint grinned to himself and looked into the living room at the aforementioned dog, sleeping at the foot of the couch.

"Well, you and Lucky will sadly have to celebrate one year with your stupid pizza-shaped cake without me," Kate said a moment later.

"What?" Clint asked, taken aback. "Why?"

"I'm in Cali, Clint."

"Since when?"

"Since last weekend. I'm staying with America, it's date night tonight, and I won't be home for another two or three weeks."

"Huh," Clint mumbled. "Just like last year, then."

"What does that mean?" Kate questioned, almost sounding offended.

"Nothing, I just-" Clint sighed. "I tried to see if Barney would come celebrate last year but he never even answered the phone, and now you can't come celebrate a year-"

"Clint," Kate interrupted. "You know this isn't about not wanting to be there or about ignoring you. I am honestly a bit offended that you're comparing me to your dumbass of a brother, but I'll let it pass."

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Don't," Kate huffed. "Shoot me a text when you finish the cake and sing to Lucky. I'll call and America and I will help sing, too."

"Nah, you don't have to do that, Kate," Clint said, waving her off even though she couldn't see him. "Go enjoy your date with America, we'll be fine."

"What about Barnes? Isn't he home to celebrate with you?" Kate asked.

"Nah, he, uh, had another mission, just like last month." Clint cleared his throat and got back to mixing ingredients for the pizza cake. "Lucky and I will be fine, though, don't worry. Call me when you get home."

"I will. I'm sorry again, Clint-"

"I told you, Katie-Kate, it's fine. Have fun with America and tell her and the others that I said hi."

Halloween. The perfect time of year for people to get the shit scared out of them.

A typical Halloween at the Barton 'n' Lucky apartment would consist of closed blinds, probably too much coffee and pizza, and horror movies all day. But, this year, Clint got invited to a party.

Well, a "party." He knew it couldn't have been much when Tony Stark's invitation said "Clinton 'Hawkguy' Barton and Little Lucky," but he was still going to go and enjoy the time with friends. And he sure as hell was taking Lucky.

"Oh, Lucky, no," Clint sighed as Lucky pawed at the eye patch on his face again. This was the third time Clint had managed to get the thing to stay over Lucky's missing eye and the third time that Lucky had pawed it right off. "Do you not want to be a pirate?"

Lucky barked.

There was a chuckle from the stairs as Bucky walked down them, fully dressed in his costume. He had a blond wig braided messily over his loose brown hair and a homemade red coat over the rest of his black outfit.

"I don't think Lucky appreciates the eyepatch," he laughed.

"But he's got to be a pirate!" Clint argued. "He's got the perfect number of eyes for it!"

Bucky laughed loudly at that, tossing his head back and holding his stomach. "Clint, babe, no."

"What? It's the only costume that would be right for him."

"Well, maybe just forego the eyepatch. You've already got the puffy shirt and little pirate booties," Bucky reasoned, walking over and kneeling down to look Lucky over. The dog was just staring at the both of them, clearly confused.

"Too bad he couldn't be a piece of p-i-z-z-a," Clint sighed. "Would've been even more perfect than a pirate."

Bucky laughed at that then turned his head to Clint. "When are you getting dressed? We've gotta leave soon."

"Right now, then," Clint said, pushing himself off of the floor and jogging up to their bedroom.

"Make room, make room! He comes armed!" Bucky announced when they walked out of the elevator onto the communal floor of Avengers Tower.

"And he comes with a detachable arm!" Clint laughed, lifting Bucky's metal left arm.

"And the more important one comes with no arms and four legs!" Kate hollered, causing laughter to erupt across the room. Clint laughed as Lucky ran towards the sound of her voice, knocking arrows out of her hip quiver when he took her down.

Clint tucked his blond wig behind his pointy elf-ears and looked around the room; it wasn't necessarily crowded, but it was definitely full of people who loved one another. Everyone was in some kind of clever costume - Kate was Katniss from The Hunger Games (of course), America was Rosa Diaz of the Nine-Nine, Natasha was Sansa Stark (she was such a nerd, honestly), Tony was Alphonse Elric (he and Bucky had coordinated), and so many others were dressed up, too, in varying qualities of costume.

The room itself was decorated with orange fairy lights and jack-o-lanterns and fake spiderwebs in every corner. It was the embodiment of a Halloween party, just a lot more chill and the perfect gathering between friends.

By the end of the night, Clint was glad he had come. He had finally gotten to celebrate something on time, and with his family, no less. Honorary or not, they were all he had.

#clint barton #lucky #lucky the pizza dog #clint barton & lucky #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes #clint barton/bucky barnes #winterhawk #kate bishop #amerikate #barney barton #avengers #the avengers #marvel #marvel comics #marvel 616 #my fic

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wildroseofarran · 5 years

Text

Angel Rules || Luna, Oliver, Pete, & Logan

Luke: Luke set aside his laptop and sighed, leaning back on the couch until he was staring up at the ceiling. The TV felt like a faint buzzing noise in the distance, the document on his laptop a jumble of words. He couldn't concentrate on anything at the moment, just the dull grinding ache in his chest and arms that he'd come to recognize as loneliness.

The profound sort of loneliness that settled into your bones and your heart, making it hard to breathe. Hard to not break down and sob every moment of the day.

He could ignore it when he was in Edenton, when he was safe for a while in the loving arms of people who cared for him. But here, with no distractions and no company there was nothing to keep it at bay.

Dana: Long it had been since Dana Tolvin had made his presence known. For months he had forgotten the brilliant and terrible world of life. Life as he had known it. The Umbra was vast and much like a labyrinth. Knowledge was just as elusive as the maze world, and yet saturated. What he didn't want to know he could find. With enough persuasion he could extract information from the dust covered elders. His people. Trial and error was unforgiving. What he sought in earnest had been kept silent. Forbidden, he'd been told.

Dana Tolvin stepped into the elevator. The appropriate button was pressed. The light awoke; the doors slid shut. He breathed a slow, painful breath.

"Fifth floor," a sultry voice said over a tiny speaker. The doors opened.

Quintin Traxler knocked on Luke Graham's door.

Luke: Luke glanced toward the hallway leading to the door and considered not answering it. It was probably one of his coworkers from the firm trying to lure him into socializing again.

"Go away, Carl," he called. "I don't want to go to whatever gay club you found."

Dana: "Is that anyway t'greet a mate?" a familiar voice in a familiar yet unassociated accent.

Luke: He lifted his head, brow furrowed in confusion. Not Carl.

"Q?"

Dana: The door was silent. No verbal response. They took too much out of him this early.

Luke: Luke eased himself off the couch and headed for the door, miserable, confused expression falling away when he laid eyes on his pretend boyfriend.

"Hey," he said softly, holding the door open. "Did I know you were coming?"

Dana: Q's smile highlighted his laugh lines more than usual. He stepped through the door.

"No. You didn't know."

Luke: "You're a surprise then?" He shut the door behind Q and immediately turned to go into those arms.

Dana: "I'm a surprise." More than one. Luke was so ready for those arms. They symbolized peace and love...and none of it was real. He paid for this man. He was a replacement for what he should have been.

Large skinny hands held to Luke's shoulders.

Luke: "The best one." Snuggled against Q's chest, Luke was finally able to relax. "I missed you," he said softly.

Dana: "Do you miss Tolvin?"

Luke: Luke's brow furrowed again as he tilted his head back to look at Q. "What?"

Dana: "That was his name, right?"

Luke: "His last name, yeah. Why...?"

Dana: "Do you love him still?"

Luke: "You know I do. Why are you asking me about this? We don't usually talk about him."

Dana: Hands, weak, slowly slid down Luke's shoulders and arms. "Why don't we?"

Luke: "Because it still feels....raw."

Dana: "That's what...this is for."

Luke: "Not entirely..." He tilted his head. "Are you all right? You seem...off."

Dana: His mouth opened, ready to reply, and then snapped shut. Hands fell limply to his sides. His usually sun-kissed skin seemed paler than usual. Autumn might have been to blame, if not for the emphasis of veins, the shade under his eyes.

"I'm alright."

Luke: "Are you sure? You're pale. Here, sit." He took Q by the hand and led him through the doorway to the left and into the kitchen.

"I'll get you some water."

Dana: The man followed behind, fingers hardly gripping the lovingly commanding hand.

"I don't know what to say to you."

Luke: "What are you talking about? It's just me." He waved Q onto one of the barstools while he poured him some water and grabbed some aspirin.

Dana: "But it's not just me."

Luke: Luke's expression was etched with concern as he placed the glass and two tablets in front of Q. "What do you mean? Q, are you sick? Do you need me to take you to the emergency room?"

Dana: His mouth opened again. Snapped shut. "It's...me."

Luke: Rather than clear anything up, that just confused Luke more. "Of course it's you. Who else would it be?"

Dana: "Dana Tolvin."

Luke: "Q, come on. That isn't funny. What's wrong? You never show up out of the blue, you always call."

Dana: "February, 2017, you lost a fight with a bathroom sink. I hated that you were half-naked. Anyone could look at you. I told you I smoke like a chimney. You made Stella spend over a hundred bucks on cigarettes once. You kept hiding them and she kept buying more. We kissed and I pushed you away."

Luke: Luke's eyes widened slowly as Q spoke, some unspoken, brutal emotion squeezing at his chest more and more with each word until he was breathless and shaking.

That had been a private, bittersweet moment he'd locked away in his memory after Dana's passing. He didn't speak of it to anyone, ever; it was only revisited when he was in bed on nights like tonight, when he was lonely and miserable.

There was no way--none--that Quintin Traxler could possibly know that.

Dana: "I don't have long. What I'm doing is against the rules of Arcanoi."

Luke: He waited for....he didn't know what he was waiting for. A laugh. An explanation. A revelation that Q was drunk off his ass and all this was a joke made in questionable and inebriated taste.

But nothing came. And when nothing did, it began to sink in.

"....You're....s-serious......you--you're...."

Dana: "Is it really so far-fetched after hearing my voice? Knowing I still exist? Can you not suspend your belief for an hour and accept that I did this for you?"

Luke: "I haven't heard your voice in a year. A whole year of telling myself I was crazy and that Logan and I were having one of those shared delusion things they talk about in true crime shows. I thought we imagined we heard your voice because we wanted to hear it so, so badly and that's why we never heard it again."

Dana: "We had an entire conversation together. I'm not an illusion, Luke."

Luke: "Then where the hell have you been? Weeks of throwing shit and making the lights so crazy and chest poking and then nothing. Nothing! Like none of it ever happened!"

Dana: "I've been somewhere I hope you don't see for a very long time. There's so much...so much." The body swallowed, eyes drifted. "I had to learn how to do this."

Luke: "How to do what? Make yourself look like someone else?" He needed a drink. A beer from the fridge would have to do. "What, didn't think I'd open the door if you looked like yourself?"

Dana: "This isn't an embodiment. This is puppetry, Luke."

Luke: "....Puppetry? What does that..." Luke's voice trailed off as the second revelation of the night clicked in his head.

"You're controlling Q's body?!"

Dana: "I can't recreate my own body yet, Luke, and I've missed you. I've been studying everything I can and doing so much to get to this point."(edited)

Luke: "Oh, Dana." Luke set the beer aside and grabbed his hand. "I've missed you, too. So much that it hurts every day. But you can't do this. You can't just hijack someone's body without their consent, that's not okay. I know you know that's not okay. We could've found another way for you to be able to talk again."

Dana: "Stop being a lawyer for one minute. He sells his body for money. He won't know what I've done. I'll put him back exactly as I found him. You have my word. I couldn't stand it. Time moves differently where I'm from. I didn't realize."

Luke: Slowly, he released Dana's--Q's--hand. "What does that have to do with anything? He's still a human being. He should have control over his body, same as you or I. Taking him home doesn't make it okay that you took him."

Dana: "Do you even know what he is?" Tolvin said coolly.

Luke: "It doesn't matter what he is. He's a person, and no matter how much you miss me you can't hijack him. You can't just use him while you're turning up your nose at him, Dana. He's been kind to me and he's been kind to your sister."

Dana: He continued evenly. Luke had to under. ”He's not a person. He's a demon."

Luke: "Dana, stop it. Just stop. I don't want to hear it. Take him home."

Dana: "He's a demon! An incubus!"

Luke: "Dana, stop! If you care about me at all, and I really want to believe you do, take him home. Please."

Dana: "Then come with me. I don't like driving his - whatever it is. I'm telling you the truth. I wouldn't lie."

Luke: Oh, god, he'd driven Q's car here. He was driving Q. Luke buried his face in his hands. This was so wrong in so many ways. Q didn't deserve this. Dana didn't deserve to be dead and not even be able to have his own body. Logan didn't deserve to be alone. It was all so goddamn fucking wrong and he felt sick with it.

"Fine," he said at long last, voice soft and tired. This felt like another layer of invasiveness, but he'd do it if it meant Q got home safely.

He went to turn the TV off and grabbed his keys and wallet.

Dana: "Luke," he said softly, "look at me. This wasn't a whim. I've worked-" his jaw clicked again. Q's jaw. "so long on perfecting this. Years, Luke. Years I've held my patience for this moment."

Luke: "I would've been happy with your disembodied voice." Luke looked over at him. "More lights flickering. More chest poking and practicing Morse code. Because it would've been you. That's all I ever wanted. Just you."

Dana: "I wouldn't. That's nothing. That's not holding you. That's not seeing you clearly behind the veil. That's not being productive and being in your life or my daughter's or Logan."

Luke: "Logan." He sighed. "She's bought so many books about death and spirits and the afterlife. I told her my brother was going to New Orleans and she wanted to go so she could talk to hoodoo practitioners about contacting you."

Dana: Tolvin stared at the hands, arms he possessed. He tugged at the shirt to see the chest. What an ugly body.

"She shouldn't be here. She should be home. How is she earning income at this point?"

Luke: "She won't go home until she can take you with her." And if they never found Dana's body, well....

"Father Patrick gave her a job, organizing the church office. She babysits sometimes. I've been helping her."

Dana: "Odd jobs? She's a huntress. That's not -" Q's lip was bitten into, but not enough to bleed. "She's not going to find it."

Luke: "She went back once and that was enough for her to feel alone and out of place. You were her home, Dana. Not the orphanage."

Dana: "Her life can't come to a halt because I'm gone, Luke. You can't encourage that."

Luke: "Why do you think I talked to Father Patrick about giving her a job? Were it not for that she'd still be holed away in the cabin and only leaving to go to mass."

Dana: "You talked to Father Patrick? The Church isn't going to fund her for sitting around doing nothing. This -" Q's jaw clicked and tightened uncharacteristically. "I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. I came to you for a reason."

Luke: "The church isn't funding her, this isn't a 'Church' job. It's a normal job. As normal as babysitting and going to choir practice."

Dana: "She's abandoned the Church completely?"

Luke: "No, but like you said, they can't pay her for doing nothing."

Dana: "...We're supposed to be leaving."

Luke: Luke nodded. Right. "After you."

Dana: Tolvin headed to the door, but not without glancing back at the man he had puppeteered for.

Luke: He'd find Luke dutifully following him, face set in sad, weary lines.

Dana: This was meant to be a beautiful night. Messy, but memorable for the romantic effort. That demon had weaseled too deep where he didn't belong.

The keys were offered, fingers curled and cryptic.

Luke: Luke took them carefully. "Are you going to see Logan?"

Dana: "No. Not like this. I'm still ... honing my new skills. It's not ready."

Luke: He nodded, locking up after them and heading for the elevator.

"Can I tell her I spoke to you? If you don't want me to I understand."

Dana: "...It's been so long for me. I don't know anymore. Memories...aren't always the same where I am. You two," he swallowed, "tether me here."

Luke: Luke blinked. "We do?" he asked softly.

Dana: "You do. You have since I stopped breathing."

Luke: "Because we love you?"

Dana: "Because I love you."

Luke: Luke felt his entire soul burn in his chest, and tears prick at his eyes.

"We'll help you," he whispered. "I promise we will."

Dana: "What will you help?"

Luke: "To make you stronger. To help you always find your voice, and your body."

Dana: "My body is - that's the least of anyone's concern."

Luke: "It's our concern."

Dana: "Then stop." Despite the body, Tolvin managed to manifest an all too familiar stern tone.

Luke: "I swear to God, Dana, only you could tell your loved ones to stop worrying about you after you've just told one of them they tether you to this earth. Get in the elevator."

Dana: "I'm not saying it's shit! At no point did I say this tether - it's the only way I can see you!"

Luke: "I refuse to believe that. There is a way, and dammit I'll help Logan find it."

Dana: "A way to what?"

Luke: "For you to see us." Emphasis on the word you. There would be no more hijacking.

Dana: "It's as forbidden as what I'm doing."

Luke: "If this is forbidden and you still did it I have no doubt you won't pass up an opportunity to have more freedom. You're certainly stubborn enough."

Dana: "You never stopped bein' a thorn in my side."

Luke: "And apparently you haven't gotten any better at sweet talking me in the past year." He jabbed the button for the lobby.

Dana: "I never had to before. Being dead didn't make me Casanova."

Luke: "That much is obvious. What man doesn't love being called a thorn in someone's side?"

Dana: Enough. Luke was taken by his arm and yanked into a hug. "Shut up."

Luke: Luke clung to him, feeling a lump forming in his throat. Why did their tender moments always have to come about after so much contention? Why did it always have to be this way?

Dana: It wasn't the same kind of hug as Q. There wasn't a gentle little circle of fingers against the center of his back. There was a bear claw for a hand between his shoulders, a monstrous squeeze of a man afraid of the action itself, of what it meant with this man.

Luke: Dana could squeeze him as tightly as he liked. Being held by him had always been a rare thing; it was something Luke had to treasure, for the opportunity to experience it again might not come for a very long time.

Dana: "I've missed you."

Luke: Luke clung tighter. "I missed you, too," he whispered. "So much."

Dana: "I didn't...give...enough."

Luke: "You gave what you could."

Dana: "My daughter... How's my daughter?" Despite his questions, he wasn't letting go.

Luke: And Luke wasn't inclined to let him. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, lest his voice betray him. "She misses her dad."

Dana: His daughter. He missed her the most. He saw her the least. "You've spoken to her?"

Luke: "Logan has a few times. She sent her a gift for her birthday, along with some of your things."

Dana: "What things?"

Luke: "Pictures, books, your scapulary, one of your scarves."

Dana: "My life boiled down to things."

Luke: "Things are all we have left of you. We don't have a grave to leave flowers on or to visit when the pain of losing you gets to be too much."

Dana: "And you never will, Luke. You won't have that. This right now, is all I have to give you."

Luke: He swallowed again, though this time he couldn't keep his voice from breaking. "I know."

Dana: He didn't like that sound. He'd rather the fighting. It was so much easier than this. "I want to kiss you."

Luke: Luke wouldn't. No matter how much it hurt, he'd rather have moments like this. Moments like this were what he'd always wanted with Dana, what he used to daydream about and imagine when he'd let his mind wander. His mental version of Dana was so different and somehow so similar to Dana himself.

Luke took a shaky breath. "Go on then." And may God and Q forgive him this moment of weakness.

Dana: His brash and bear-like body language and manner seemed to fade. Had he been alive he would have been as feral as their first kiss. This body was not his own and he knew; he knew Luke would feel guilt. He knew he should have felt guilt and yet felt nothing towards this demon but repugnant jealousy. His lips, the body's lips found Luke's with a desperate search.

Luke: He'd feel guilt enough for both of them soon, but for now he would take this small gift he'd been given and make the most of it.

He'd take that face gently between his hands and kiss those lips in the same manner, trying to pour a lifetime of love into it.

Dana: There was another noise unlike the original host body. A growl, purr-like in its nature. The elevator dinged. The door opened. Tolvin felt blindly for whatever button, letting the door shut again.

Luke: The sound wasn't made by Dana's voice yet it sounded so much like Dana that Luke felt his heart squeeze painfully in his chest, enough to make twin tears slip past his closed lids and roll down his cheeks.

"I love you so much," he whispered.

Dana: He'd already said the words. He had years in the underbelly of the Shadowlands to sort his thoughts, and yet here behind the veil he felt the familiar twinge of uncertainty. Should he...what would happen...

"I don't deserve it."

Luke: He shook his head. "Don't think about that. We don't have a lot of time. Just...tell me how you feel. It'll get me through the worst of it when you're not here."

Dana: "I wish I had...I wish..." The door dinged again. He pressed the button. No. I'm not done.

"I wish we'd had more time. I wish I'd been here under better - but it wouldn't have made a difference."

Luke: "Dana." Luke held on to him once more. "I wish I knew how to make you believe that...that just having your presence means the world to me. Even if I can't see you or touch you or kiss you....knowing I'm not alone is enough."

Dana: "I'm not talking about now. I'm talking about when I was alive. I should have been with you."

Luke: "If I think about that, my heart will break. The time I had with you is precious to me." Even though he sometimes believed he'd only imagined some of that time, that the sweet, loving moments they'd shared had only been in his daydreams.

Dana: "If you meant what you said, would you really have gotten emotional letting me hold you and kiss you? Don't kid yourself. I'm nowhere near done but I'm doing this to be with you all."

Luke: "I did mean what I said. That's why I'm taking him home and why I'm telling you that something like this can never happen again, no matter how much we miss each other or how badly we want to be together. I feel like this making me lose you somehow."

Dana: Firm fingers held to Luke's chin, as they'd done well over a year ago.

"You're not going to lose me. Death didn't make you lose me."

Luke: Luke just looked at him with teary eyes, feeling all the more pain because it wasn't Dana's face he was looking at.

He had lost him. If not all of him, then part of him.

"Promise?" he asked softly.

Dana: The animated head nodded. "I'll have my own body someday. We can tell Logan together."

Luke: He nodded, resting his head against that chest that was so familiar and so foreign at the same time

"Okay."

Dana: This time when the elevator dinged, Tolvin looked. Wrong floor anyway. His fist tapped for ground floor.

"So, we leave now. We'll see her, and I'll put him back."

Luke: Another nod. "Okay. Will he...does he....know?"

Dana: "No. Although, what I understand is for humans. I've told you, he's not. I don't know what he'll feel, but right now he's asleep."

Luke: He didn't want to start that fight up again, he just wanted to make sure Q wasn't in any pain.

"Okay. " He stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby, taking Dana's hand and leading him out. "Where did you park?"

Dana: Their fingers would not be laced together. Rather, he continued to hold firmly to Luke's hand, walking ahead. This body felt too light.

"...Over there. Why is everything he owns small? This body, the car, that apartment..."

Luke: "He likes his apartment." He headed in the direction of Q's car, feeling another pang when he saw it. I'm so sorry, he thought. I'll make this up to you somehow.

He unlocked the car and opened the passenger's side door for Dana.

Dana: That doesn't tell me anything. He likes small things. You're small, he thought.

Which caused him to fight a smile while getting in.

Luke: Small enough that even Q with his lean frame could pick him up with ease and make him feel safe, which was definitely a thought best left in Dana's head. Luke's size wasn't exactly a point of pride to him.

He started the engine and pulled out of the parking garage, already thinking of how he'd get home. Maybe he'd just stay with Logan for the night and ask her to drive him home tomorrow.

Dana: The drive to Raleigh had taken so much of his time. Already he was exhausted. So much time wasted. He closed the eyes of his host and breathed. What a beautiful tedium.

"The world is so much more than you see."

Luke: "What I see is almost more than I can bear. Probably lose my mind if I saw what you see."

Dana: "I did for a time."

Luke: "What made you return to yourself?"

Dana: "Time. It just took time and...a lot of exploring. Curiosity brought me back."

Luke: "Time. People like to say time heals everything." He scoffed. "Big fat lie."

Dana: "Time healed my sanity. Time will heal Logan."

Luke: "How much of it," Luke wondered quietly. "She's my best friend. I love her. And I can't think of a single thing to take her pain away. What kind of friend does that make me?"

Dana: He wondered who Luke claimed as closest friend before their arrival.

"Makes you human."

Luke: He hadn't really had one, before Logan. He had his brother and Callum and his football friends and work friends, but no one he was able to pour his heart out to quite like he did with Logan.

"Then being human in a fucking curse."

Dana: "If this is what maudlin is I'm going to smack your stomach."

Luke: "This is what my life is."

Dana: Stomach smack, then.

Luke: "I'm driving, Dana."

Dana: "Then don't be dramatic."

Luke: Luke turned to give Dana a familiar stern look. Drama? This wasn't drama. He was a man undone by grief, only able to find joy and ease in small pockets and who believed everything he said.

Dana: Yes, well, Tolvin took hold of the nearest hand and squeezed. Though he wanted to kiss his knuckles he didn't. Old habits, years later. Years later to him.

Luke: Luke squeezed back, drawing every ounce of affection he could. He wouldn't have turned away that kiss. He never did, and Q knew that well. Tane Lukela was perhaps starting to learn that as well.

Dana: "You love this man?"

Luke: "We don't consider that word." If they felt it in any way, and perhaps in their own way they did, they didn't voice it aloud. It was said with touch, with action.

Dana: "We?" he frowned. "You've discussed it?" So exposing.

Luke: "We have an arrangement."

Dana: "A hooker demon. I know."

Luke: "Don't call him that."

Dana: "Why does the truth scare you?"

Luke: "Why do you assume I'm afraid?"

Dana: "You don't want to accept it."

Luke: "Maybe I just don't like that word. Maybe I think it's degrading and maybe I think you have no business degrading someone whose body you're currently in without permission."

Dana: "I'll pay him somehow if that's what you want."

Luke: "That is absolutely not what I want." That would make it so much worse.

Dana: "I can't pay him in money."

Luke: "I said no."

Dana: "Are you actually trying to boss me around?"

Luke: "I'm not trying to do anything, Dana," Luke said softly. "I'm begging you to just take him home after we see Logan and leave him be. I'll get on my knees if you want me to."

Dana: Tolvin studied Q's hands. They seemed so boney. These could not hunt. These could not kill with strength alone.

"He means that much?"

Luke: "He's been kind to me. He's been kind to your sister. No one knows better than me how far a little kindness can go."

Dana: "And if one day he decides to eat you, you'll be with me before you should."

Luke: "Dana, for the love of god, please."

Dana: "Have you ever fucking trusted me?"

Luke: "Have you ever stopped to think about how the things you say affect me?"

Dana: "I was a goddamn hunter! What I say should have fucking weight!"

Luke: "It does, Dana." He wouldn't cry. If he cried he wouldn't be able to see the road. If he cried, this would be yet another time he'd humiliated himself in front of Dana Tolvin and his heart just couldn't bear it. " All of what you've ever said has had weight and at least half it runs through my mind every time I see you like some broken record player that's mocking me and breaking my heart over and over and over again!"

Dana: "How have I mocked you? Mocked - Really?" Anger through a voice not his own still carried weight. The host's skin felt hot. His cheeks, palms, and crotch especially. "All I've ever wanted is you safe!"

Luke: It was a good thing they weren't on the highway surrounded by other cars yet because Luke slammed on the brakes.

"How is telling me you don't want me in front of a waitress looking at me with all the pity in the world keeping me safe? How is making me feel like a bother and a burden keeping me safe? How is calling me pathetic for needing comfort and a kind word from someone keeping me safe?" Luke was sobbing now, and there was no stopping. All his grief and insecurity were pouring out and nothing in the world could've stemmed the flow. "All I wanted to do was love you! I would've moved Heaven and Earth for you to look happy to see me! Why didn't you ever let me love you? Why? What did I do wrong, what was wrong with me?"

Dana: What was all of this emotion. He couldn't recall there being so much when he was breathing. Wasn't that tiresome?

"I wanted you hardened. You're a lawyer. I expect resolve for the very reason I died. Something could happen. Something did happen. Here I am still trying to help. I do love you or I wouldn't be here now!"

Luke: "I'm a lawyer, I'm not made out of fucking stone! And I'm not hard like one! You hurt me!" Luke turned away from Dana and hid his face in his arm.

He said he loved him, but he never said it gently. Never said it in the gentle, sweet romantic way Luke had always imagined. The way the Dana in his dreams said it. Even so, a part of him did feel that love. But a greater part just felt pain.

Dana: "I'm sorry!" Something said to quiet this argument, but something also truthful. He didn't want Luke to cry. He didn't want this pain. He reached for him, for his arm.

Luke: Unfortunately, the ship had already sailed on the crying front. His sleeve was soaked through and there was no end in sight, not even after the apology. If anything, it made the tears worse.

Cursing the fact that he'd inherited his mother's coloring, he wiped his eyes and turned. His face was red, eyes already swelling.

Dana: "Come here," said firmly, face grim. "Just...hush and come here." He didn't know how else to approach this, not in a manner which he would be comfortable. He loved him, and he hated him for this weakness. Not only in himself but what he caused the wraith. The human was pulled to Q's chest.

Luke: It wasn't the usual sort of comfort, not the manner in which it was offered or the unknown thoughts running through Dana's mind that accompanied it, but it was comfort. And comfort was something Luke Graham didn't turn down.

Tentatively, he leaned against Q's chest. He knew this chest. There was an endless well of comfort embedded in it.

Dana: He didn't know what to say. This was why his ex had left him. This was why they were never able to mend. Being a hunter was only half of the equation. This was simply too much.

"Come on. Tighten that chest, mate."

Luke: And just like that, the delicate bubble burst. The comfort his heart and soul craved wouldn't come today. Perhaps not for a very long time.

"Your father taught you that boys don't cry, didn't he."

Dana: The body swallowed down and rubbed between his shoulders. "He taught me to fight. Not to break down."

Luke: "My dad would've decked him."

Dana: "He was why I became a hunter. Help those too weak to do it themselves."

Luke: "Is that what you think I am?" Luke whispered, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Dana: "I think...sometimes ya need help. I think you're so full of love ya let danger in."

Luke: "Letting love in means letting a lot of other things in, too. I know that. I also know I'm not in danger. I'm a lawyer, I know how to trust my gut."

Dana: "Do you...believe me...when I tell you what he is? Don't circle the subject with what you love about him. I'm inside of him. I know what I'm talking about. I need you to be aware of what I'm saying. Please. For just a moment listen to me. Acknowledge this."

Luke: "I am aware of it and no, I don't believe it. Even if you're right and this man who doesn't hiss when he sees a crucifix and can walk in front of a church just fine is somehow a demon, I'm not in danger. Not from him."

Dana: Thick healthy, short nails dug into flesh. Indention was made by the effort. With enough force, so would bruising on the host's arm.

Luke: "Hey, what are you doing." He pulled that hand away. "Stop."

Dana: "Kiss me."

Luke: "Now?" After that display? After he'd humiliated himself?

Dana: "Yes. Now."

Luke: Luke closed his eyes. We can't. I can't keep indulging myself when his body's not his own. He deserves more than that from me.

"I can kiss your cheek. Anything else and I'll burst into tears again and neither of us wants that."

Dana: "I'm trying to prove a point, Luke. I'll go away after this if that's what you want. Just give me this."

Luke: What point? his gaze asked.

Dana: He kissed Luke's hand. He kissed his cheek. He nuzzled into his skin. The gaze was not answered.

Luke: Dana would find Luke's cheek wet with freshly fallen tears. This was...so unbelievably unfair. To spend so much time wishing for Dana's affection, his love, and to get it now when he didn't even have his own body...

He broke down again.

Dana: Slowly, he began to kiss all over Luke's face. No inch would be left untouched. A gentler apology was offered between the affection.

Luke: Luke tried to take deep breaths while Dana continued his ministrations, trying to steady and calm himself. But every kiss just seemed to make the tears come harder, and when the apology came, he dissolved altogether.

Whatever point Dana had been trying to make, Luke hoped that was it because his heart couldn't take anymore.

Dana: The point...it mattered so much. He couldn't trust the owner of this body. Years in the Shadowlands and he was still too weak to fight. Not the way he intended. All he could do was smother Luke in affection while he had the energy.

Luke: As long as Dana didn't mind smothering a man who was currently on the verge of blubbering and hyperventilating, Luke didn't have enough fight in him to stop him.

Dana: "Come on," he tried to soothe. "Take a deep breath and let it out from your mouth. Gotta breathe for me."

Luke: Luke tried his best and managed a hitched breath. The next one came a little easier.

Dana: "Keep doing that. In and out."

Luke: In and out. In and out. In and out.

Very slowly, Luke managed to catch his breath. And even though he was a little calmer, he was just....drained. He wanted to go to bed and sleep for three days and not see or talk to anyone.

Dana: The indentions created on Q's arm had begun to fade. The point he was trying to make. His nearness, his heat, his body had healed the host. But...Tolvin was going to have to let this go. If Luke noticed, then he would explain, but he doubted the man could see through those blurry eyes.

Luke: Luke didn't notice anything except the rhythm he was trying to keep with his breathing. It was such a simple task and yet it felt so exhausting. All of him was just exhausted. Emotionally, mentally, physically.

"I'm so tired," he said quietly, resting his forehead on the steering wheel. "I'm so tired."

Dana: Tolvin glanced around. He gestured towards the nearest sign yards away. "A hotel. A few hours of rest..."

Luke: He shook his head. "Can't. We have to get back to Edenton."

Dana: "Don't rush yourself. This body will be fine. It's been so long since I've seen you. Can you even see?"

Luke: Luke wiped his face on his sleeve and pulled back onto the road. "I can see fine."

Dana: "Luke, let me-" he sighed.

Luke: "I have to drive, Dana. I need to do something with my hands and head."

Dana: He felt the place on his arm which had healed. This was still his fetter, but he felt distanced from him. He looked out the window in silence.

Luke: It was a good half hour before Luke's breathing had returned to normal and he trusted himself to speak again. The tears never really stopped, however. They just became softer. Silent.

"I'm sorry," he whispered after a long while.

Dana: "Why are you apologizing?"

Luke: "I always feel like I have to when I cry in front of someone." Especially you.

Dana: "Depends on the person... Don't do it with me."

Luke: Luke nodded. "Okay." He probably still would, but he felt a little better.

Dana: A hand reached for Luke, paused, and dropped.

Luke: Luke's own reached out and twined with Dana's. There were so many gaps between them; he didn't want another.

Dana: "This feels as awkward as I imagine it would have been had I been alive."

Luke: "It wasn't all awkward."

Dana: "What was best?"

Luke: "That day with the sink."

Dana: "I pushed you."

Luke: "Not the whole time. There was a while when we were just talking and there wasn't any weirdness. It was just us."

Dana: "I enjoyed our last day."

Luke: "I should've stopped you. Stayed with you."

Dana: "You needed rest."

Luke: "I needed you more."

Dana: "Don't talk like that."

Luke: "It's true. I stayed up for days anyway. Didn't get any rest."

Dana: "I miss," he almost said past tense. He never thought this would work. "...my forehead to yours."

Luke: "I miss it, too," he said softly. "I still have your jacket, the one you gave me that day with the sink. Logan told me some things to try to get the smell of smoke out, but I never tried any of them. I like that it smells like you."

Dana: "I don't remember the... addiction of it. The Shadowlands have their own addictions."

Luke: "Spirits can have addictions?"

Dana: "Yes. We can."

Luke: "I thought death was supposed to bring peace."

Dana: "It's just another stage."

Luke: "Is there another, beyond it?"

Dana: "Reincarnation or nonexistence."

Luke: "Reincarnation? That's real?"

Dana: "Of course it's real. You don't have to. No one has to. Almost everyone does."

Luke: "So....all the people that are currently alive are reincarnations?"

Dana: "It's more complicated than that."

Luke: "How so?" This wasn't exactly a cheerful topic, but it was interesting enough to distract him.

Dana: "Find out on your own in...80 years," the wraith sighed.

Luke: "What, are the secrets of reincarnation only known to the dead? That's crap."

Dana: Ah, he managed a smile from his should-be lover.

Luke: Well, at least there was that.

"So reincarnation is real and there's something beyond death that sounds scarier than death. Cool. Very educational night."

Dana: "Not worse. Not better. Just different. I suppose the worst of it is not being able to be with you properly. Give me time."

Luke: "The worst of it is that you're dead. Not being able to have you properly even after discovering you're still here is God just adding insult to injury."

Dana: "Give me time, Luke."

Luke: Luke took a deep breath and nodded. "I will. And you need to promise me that dead or not, you won't lose who you are."

Dana: "I'm trying. But..."

Luke: "...But?"

Dana: "I'm...older. I've lived another lifetime."

Luke: "You're still you."

Dana: "People age. Even things like me."

Luke: "They age but they're still themselves, unless they literally get turned into something else."

Dana: "Well by that logic you shot me in the foot," he smirked.

Luke: "You're disembodied but you're you, Dana."

Dana: "You're...again, not listening to me. You're trying to enforce your own beliefs."

Luke: "My beliefs give me hope, Dana. I'm not trying to enforce anything, I already know that doesn't work with you. You need time and I need hope."

Dana: "Ain't my being here hope?"

Luke: "It is hope. But it's been a long time. Another lifetime for you. We both need all the hope we can get."

Dana: "And right now you need to feel safe and responsible by taking this body home."

Luke: "Right now....I need a giant long island iced tea."

Dana: "Alcohol was my vice."

Luke: "Been trying not to self-medicate."

Dana: "I would rather you didn't."

Luke: "That's been the general consensus."

Dana: "Can I trust leaving you again?"

Luke: "I can't promise I won't have a shot of something, but I can promise it'll only be one."

Dana: "Lawyer."

Luke: A very small, faint smile.

Dana: "How can you love me?"

Luke: "That's like asking the sun why it rises in the morning."

Dana: "I've done nothing but push you away. I've done nothing to earn it."

Luke: "And yet I fell in love with you anyway. Surely as that sun rises in the morning."

Dana: "That makes it sound predictable. I don't want poetry. I want truth. Why."

Luke: "If I had a logical answer I would give it to you. All I know is that from the moment I saw you, you pulled at me. I saw how you are with Logan, how much you care while pretending you don't, how passionate and protective and intelligent and stubborn you are."

Dana: "You see all of that...but still we fight. I don't want to fight. I'm tired of it and I've only just gotten back."

Luke: Luke sighed. "I don't want to fight either. I've never wanted to fight."

Dana: "I don't know how to stop us."

Luke: "I don't either." He was silent for a few moments. There was something he wanted to ask, but he was afraid to hear the answer. He was afraid there was no answer.

"....Can I ask you something?"

Dana: "What's that?" he asked after a moment.

Luke: "You asked why I love you...why do you....love me...?"

Dana: The wraith leaned back on his seat and looked away. A mile of silence. Nearly a mile more.

"In another life...I would have been kinder. I loved...fighting with you. The way you stress your brows. The thing you did - do with your hands. I wanted to be around to laugh at your anger...and make it better."

Luke: During that mile and the one after, Luke felt his worst fears being confirmed. There was nothing about him that Dana loved, there was no reason Dana loved him at all. He'd just been worn down by Luke's no doubt pathetic attempts to win his affection and interest.

Somehow the answer didn't make him feel any better.

"You want to stop fighting with me but you love fighting with me? So you can mock me for being upset?"

Dana: "Not those kinda fights. The ones that end with...what we did in the bathroom."

Luke: "That end with us kissing? Sky isn't going to fall if you say it, you know. I was wet and shirtless and you got hot and bothered about it and kissed me."

Dana: That was taboo, even now. He didn't want to talk about that. A lifetime later, some words, some thoughts, were simply too much. Elegance was only recently learned. "I wanted you to myself."

Luke: I was right there, Luke thought. You had me. I was ready to offer you everything I had. Myself. My heart. You had it all, and in return I just wanted a tiny corner, a tiny sliver of yours.

"You had me. You pushed me away."

Dana: "I had...my daughter came first. Her mother would never let me see her again if she knew..."

Luke: "I would never begrudge you that or resent you for giving your daughter pride of place. She should have it. And unless her mother hates gay people, what would the problem be?"

Dana: "We're all very Catholic. She knows what I do - did. She prayed for my soul. She was - is very conservative. It's what I - it's - I've explained before."

Luke: "Your sister is gay and still manages to be Catholic."

Dana: "It's not the same. That's not me."

Luke: "What if her mother wasn't conservative? What if she was totally fine with gay people? Would you still have pushed me away, been ashamed and embarrassed to be seen with me?"

Dana: "...Yes," said the body quietly.

Luke: Luke gave a short, humorless laugh. "Great. That's great." Another stab of humiliation as his voice broke. "Bickering is the only thing you like about me and no matter what, you would've always been ashamed and embarrassed of me. Fucking great."

Dana: "Not of you, Luke. The majority of my shit wasn't about you. It was me."

Luke: "Even better, every gay boy dreams of falling in love with someone who hates themselves for liking them."

Dana: So easy it would have been to fall into old habits from decades past. Instead he sighed. "If you can cut the drama for a moment and listen to me, Luke. I'm telling you I was afraid."

Luke: Tell me I'm wrong, Luke thought. Tell me you don't hate that you like me. Tell me there are actually dozens of things you like about me.

He fell silent, letting Dana say what he needed to say.

Dana: "I didn't give myself the opportunity to learn you. We barely spent time together. In between my fear and paranoia was untapped curiosity. We didn't get that chance."

Luke: "I wanted us to have more time," Luke said quietly. He wanted them to have more dates. More bonding experiences. More chances to actually get to know each other. "I tried to give us...some more time."

Dana: "We still have a chance."

Luke: "Do we? It feels like there's an ocean between us that keeps getting bigger and bigger."

Dana: "Because of death?" he smirked. "A trifle."

Luke: "Not because of that." His voice remained quiet. Sad. "Not entirely."

Dana: "We have more road," so talk.

Luke: "What else do you like about me?" he asked after a long while.

Dana: "What are you hunting for?"

Luke: "You asked me why I love you and I answered. I just want the same from you. Why do you love me, Dana?"

Dana: "I told you. It was...so much physical. Your body language told me of a man I wanted in my life. You're stubborn in a way I both love and hate. You're gravity."

Luke: "Gravity forces us down and we spend our entire lives fighting against it. Is that prophetic or just a coincidence?"

Dana: "Ya keep me from floating away and never coming back."

Luke: "Doesn't feel like I'm doing a very good job."

Dana: "I'm still here. You're a fine fetter."

Luke: "Yeah. You're still here. And so is the ocean between us."

Dana: "Is it really that much?"

Luke: "You can't even say that you wanted to kiss me that day with the sink out loud."

Dana: "Fifty years in the Shadowlands didn't fuck with my conservative mouth."

Luke: "So god really does have a sense of humor."

Dana: "That you'd fall in love with a man afraid of PDA?"

Luke: "It's not about the PDA. That was never the most important part." He sighed. "I spent so much time just....wanting you to be nice to me. To maybe look glad to see me and not just....vaguely annoyed. To smile at me."

Dana: "Do you understand what I've done for you to be here? The lengths I've gone to be able to hold your hand?"

Luke: Luke shook his head. "Probably not," he said, honestly but not unkindly. "It's hard to wrap my mind around it. I'm sorry if it seems like I'm diminishing your efforts. I don't mean to." His mind and his heart were just so tired and so wounded and so sad.

Dana: "You won't hear me about death and I'm right beside you, Luke. You won't hear me about anything. Do you actually love me, or an idea of me? Some fantasy you created with my body."

Luke: "It's hard you hear you when you're not you. I know you would be you if you had a choice right now, but it's true. Part of me is going to wake up tomorrow and think I dreamed this and I don't know how to stop it. I want to hear you. I want to understand. I hate that you were taken from me. I hate that we didn't get more time."

Dana: "I'm going to do this again, Luke. I'm not going to waste my knowledge when I could see you and Logan and my daughter. If I have to find a homeless junkie to see my daughter again I will."

Luke: Luke had no doubt about that. Dana was a determined man, perhaps even more so now than when he was alive.

"Can I ask something else?"

Dana: His gaze returned to the many trees and homes outside his window. "Go ahead."

Luke: "Whoever you decide to...you know, borrow for a minute. Could you ask first? I know that'll probably make it harder but if borrowing people is as forbidden as you say, asking might make it a little better. I don't want you to get in trouble and there's no telling what kind of punishments spirits can get. They're probably awful."

Dana: "They are. I've seen them." He sighed, considered. "You're going to shy from me if I do. You won't let me hold you and make up for lost time."

Luke: Luke almost wanted to ask, but he knew better. Some things weren't meant to be known.

"There might be some initial weirdness, but I'd feel better knowing whoever it was let you."

Dana: "...If that's what you want, fine. Then you're gonna help me find someone."

Luke: "I don't know a whole lot of people who wouldn't chuck me in an asylum if I asked if they'd be willing to let my dead boyfriend borrow their body for a while so I could cuddle him."

Dana: "Boyfriend?" he coughed.

Luke: Luke felt himself flush and was suddenly immensely grateful it was dark.

Dana: "Say it again."

Luke: "Boyfriend," he said carefully.

Dana: "I'm still that? I was ever that?"

Luke: "Maybe not officially but I always kinda--" he cleared his throat. His whole face was hot. "--thought of you that way. Sort of."

Dana: A hand reached out, hesitantly planted over Luke's cheek.

Luke: Luke chanced a look over at Dana, hoping to read his expression. He'd never admitted that aloud before. Even thinking it was hard.

He always imagined that if Dana knew, there'd be hell to pay. But maybe...not?

Dana: Q's body sighed. "I told you. I wish there'd been more time. I wish I'd been brave for you, n'not just work."

Luke: He nodded and took a deep breath. "I know," he said softly. "I wish we had more time, too." He leaned into that hand. "You were as brave as you could be."

Dana: "So help me find someone t'make this easier."

Luke: "Where do I even start?"

Dana: The wraith considered. "...Someone with nothing to lose. Someone with no home. Drug addict, maybe."

Luke: "Do you really want to borrow the body of a drug addict?"

Dana: "If it's what I have to do for you then so be it."

Luke: "Would you happen to know any?"

Dana: "We're driving away from Raleigh."

Luke: "....Yeah?"

Dana: "That's probably where one will be."

Luke: "Probably, but that doesn't get us any closer. I don't know any. I think."

Dana: "We can look. Sooner is better than later."

Luke: He considered for a few moments. It was a long shot, but they did say if something sounded crazy enough to work, it would.

"I think I might know where we can look. In Edenton."

Dana: "In Edenton?"

Luke: He nodded. "Did you ever go to a bar called O'Charlie's?"

Dana: "All the time."

Luke: "That's where we're going to look."

Dana: "Not exactly homeless there. Bikers, truckers, bottom barrel but not that desperate."

Luke: "Depends on the day."

Dana: "You have a particular man in mind you want to kiss?" he smirked.

Luke: "Not really. I generally try to avoid O'Charlie's."

Dana: "So you want someone local."

Luke: "I guess? I don't know. I feel like it's going to be weird either way, so it might as well be a weird I'm vaguely familiar with."

Dana: "Shall I drop this body off first?"

Luke: "Do you want to go tonight?"

Dana: "Yes. I'm not satisfied. I don't want to leave you. I'm exhausted but...I'll try."

Luke: Luke nodded. All told this was quite possibly the weirdest night of his life. "Okay. We'll take Q home and go to O'Charlie's. Do you still want to see Logan?"

Dana: "After. If we find someone. I'll be with you, but not. Do you understand what we're about to do?"

Luke: "We're about to go find someone who's sad and hopeless and feels empty and we're going to ask them if you can borrow their body." And now that he thought about it, "Will they know what's going on?"

Dana: "I've told you no, Luke."

Luke: Another nod. "Okay. Just wanted to make sure. Do you think there's a difference if the person you're taking over knows about it beforehand?"

Dana: "Probably resistance, if they don't want it. Easier if the Qui - if the person thinks it's all just a dream, like this host will."

Luke: "Well, this person--whoever they end up being--is going to know. We're following angel rules."

Dana: "Angel rules?"

Luke: "Angels need consent before they take a vessel."

Dana: "Where did you hear that?"

Luke: "Read it. Told you, Logan and I have been doing our research."

Dana: "Don't believe everything you hear."

Luke: "It's been corroborated by several more sources, Father Patrick, and a few people with firsthand experience with angels."

Dana: "Why do you care about angels?"

Luke: "I didn't really, it was just something I came across that was interesting. We've corroborated everything we can, not just that."

Dana: "Everything?"

Luke: "Everything we can, yeah."

Dana: "Why?"

Luke: "Research is pointless if you don't have the correct information." He was a lawyer, remember?

Dana: "I mean why any of it. What were you looking for?"

Luke: Luke turned to him. "A way to get you back."

Dana: "Eyes on the road," he said quietly.

Luke: Back on the road they went, but not before giving Dana a meaningful look.

Dana: "Humans don't turn into angels."

Luke: "I know," he said softly. And a part of him had been crippled by disappointment when he'd found that out.

Dana: They had to move on from that subject. "Do you...have a preference, body wise?"

Luke: "You mean apart from you?"

Dana: The wraith blinked. "Um...yes."

Luke: "Not really." Although looks grabbed his attention, he was drawn to the person they belonged to first.

Dana: "So a drug addled man from," he had to think a moment, "Peru, it' ain't gonna matter?"

Luke: "As long as he gives his consent."

Dana: "You're not being choosey at all."

Luke: "Beggars can't be choosers."

Dana: "I'm not skinriding on a hideous bag of shit."

Luke: "You are if that's the only person we can find that'll give you permission. What they look like isn't the important part of all this."

Dana: "I'll do sit-ups while wearing them."

Luke: It felt so wrong to laugh, but he couldn't help it. A small laugh managed to escape.

Dana: His passenger soon followed, though he covered his mouth, wiped that away.

Luke: Luke smiled. "We'll find someone. It really doesn't matter to me what he looks like as long as we follow angel rules."

Dana: "I want to kiss you. You deserve someone kissable at least."

Luke: "You're kissable. They don't necessarily have to me as long as their teeth are regularly brushed."

Dana: His wraith smiled again. "I'm not getting in a fat fuck. Or someone diseased between the legs."

Luke: "........Okay, I'll give you that one."

Dana: Tolvin fell back into his silence while Luke drove, closing Q's eyes, the body went still, breathed evenly.

Luke: Luke turned the radio on low to keep him company while Dana and Q slept, wondering how on earth he was going to make this up to Q, debating whether to tell him or not.

Would Q even believe him if he did? Or would he call him crazy and yell and storm out of his life?

And even more insane than all that, there was the raging ethical debate on the fact that he was driving to O'Charlie's to pick out a vessel for Dana to hijack so they could have something resembling a future.

The drive wasn't going to be long enough for him to sort it all out.

Dana: As Luke pulled into the gravel covered parking lot, the body in the passenger seat began to stir. The soft noise of life was heard many nights before. A sound usually followed by a stretch, and a kiss into Luke's hair, whispers of good morning before the body slipped away for yoga and a shower. This time the moan deepened, sanded roughly around the edges.

"He dreams of sensations, not images," he whispered.

Luke: I swear I'll make it up to you, Luke thought with a pang as he watched that beloved body stir to wakefulness. My sweet, beautiful, sexy teddy bear. I'll make this up to you. I'm so sorry.

"Okay," he whispered back, nodding. "We're here. O'Charlie's in all its desolate glory."

Dana: "Well, I wonder how many of these this body's been with."

Luke: "That doesn't matter. Let's not go down that road again, okay? How are we gonna go about this?"

Dana: "Does that make you jealous?"

Luke: "I'm not the type. Can we focus on the ethical issue at hand? How do we pick you a vessel?"

Dana: I prefer the ethical issue I'm living in, Tolvin thought.

"The one alone, the one forgotten, the one stumbling around with enough drugs to stop an elephant? We'll just have to be patient."

Luke: Luke took a deep breath. "Right. Okay." He undid his seatbelt and eased off his hoodie. "Put this on, hood and everything. No one in O'Charlie's sees anything but the drink in front of them but I don't want to risk someone seeing your current body and have it be an issue later."

Dana: Would that even fit? The new layer was added. "You could seduce someone and bring them outside."

Luke: Dana was given a patented Luke glare.

Dana: "What? Don't gimme that look."

Luke: "Do I look like the type of man capable of seducing someone on a normal day?"

Dana: "Yes."

Luke: "What? I can't seduce anyone! Have you seen me?"

Dana: "Why do you think I was always trying to cover you?"

Luke: He just blinked.

Dana: His sigh was nothing like his host's. "You can't possibly be that blind."

Luke: "I'm just me, I'm not a Calvin Klein underwear model."

Dana: "Your only limitation is your height," he smirked.

Luke: "Ugh." Luke shook his head. "I'm short and hairy, that's well established. So is the fact that I'm not seducing anyone. We're going to watch and wait."

Dana: The human was suddenly taken by the collar of his shirt and pulled into a chaste kiss.

Luke: He very nearly squeaked in surprise, blinking again before his eyes closed of their own accord.

Dana: "I love you," he whispered. "I love your body just as it is."

Luke: "I love you, too," he whispered back, feeling the prickle of tears.

Dana: He didn't need it ask why there was moisture in his eyes. Life was already so goddamn depressing.

"Come on. Let's go find a better body."

Luke: He was going to ignore that little comment and just focus on the nice moment.

"Okay. Let's go. Pick out a booth."

Dana: It was one thing driving to Raleigh, learning the body on his own time. This had taken weeks of skinriding, but he dared not confess to his companion. Having to negotiate with a stranger with God knows what in his veins; he couldn't believe he had followed along with Luke's tearful pleas.

As usual, O'Charlie’s was packed with miscreants. The large rectangular room, carpet stained with alcohol, bodily fluids, and mud, thick with smoke from hidden cigarettes, had once been a second home.

"So many choices."

Luke: The charm of the room was precisely why he avoided O'Charlie's. Why everyone tended to avoid O'Charlie's. This was and had always been a place for desolation, a place where you went when you were out of hope.

How ironic that now he was walking in to find some.

"If they can be called that," he said softly. "What do you want to drink?"

Dana: There was a moment in which he'd forgotten. Years bound to Luke, remembering his smile, his scent, his voice, yet his favorite drink was lost. It had been over fifty years since alcoholism.

"Any beer is fine."

Luke: He nodded, leaving Dana to choose a seat while we went up to the bar, greeted Charlie, and ordered them a couple of beers.

Dana: Backed into a corner didn't feel as safe as he imagined Luke would prefer. He took a seat by a window near the door. Escape routes took precedence.

Luke: Safety was a relative term in this place. Some of the mysterious stains on the floor were blood; faced with that, a booth near the door seemed fairly harmless.

He got their beers and brought them back to the table.

"Any promising candidates at first glance?"

Dana: "A guy over there...looks like John Leguizamo. High as a kite, great. Too popular, though."

Luke: Luke looked toward said popular man. "That's Carlos. Definite no."

Dana: "Went to school with that?"

Luke: "He went to school only to sell weed and acid and fuck everyone."

Dana: "Sounds like someone who'll be missed."

Luke: He nodded. "Yep. Plus, he falls under the 'diseased between the legs' category."

Dana: "How do you know that?"

Luke: "Whole town knows. He's had the clap on and off since high school."

Dana: "Moving on, then." He sipped his beer, frowned, and set it aside. One woman center of the room continued to stare. He forced the hood of Q's jacket down over his brow. This was going to take forever.

"Just point out too-familiar faces."

Luke: Luke did, pointing out a few people he'd seen often, some he knew, and some he only knew of. The rest of the patrons were unfamiliar, which reminded him that Edenton was larger than it seemed.

Dana/Oliver: One, two, three, four, five perfect strangers. Ones with faces he could stand to see in a mirror. Three off on their own; two of which men. One slipped away to the restroom with the broken door. Good height; decent skin despite sun damage; dark circles under his eyes; chapped lips. Twitchy, aching fingers.

"Stay here." He wanted a closer look.

Luke: He followed Dana's gaze, spotted the man walking toward the bathroom. He looked....exactly like someone who drank at O'Charlie's. Was he Dana's prospect?

Luke nodded. "All right."

Dana/Oliver: The woman's gaze remained as Tolvin passed by, slipping into the bathroom just in time to hear the tell-tale snort. A series of sniffles followed. Idly, he washed his hands, waited for the human to emerge from the stall.

Three minutes later, finally his glimpse as he was brushed past for the door. A tacky pastel shirt covered in anchors. Jesus, that would have to go. Hair long ago neglected. Whatever he was running from wasn't his concern. He would suffice. He followed behind the curious creature as he unwrapped a Dum-Dums lollipop and paid his tab at the bar.

Luke: Luke tapped his fingers nervously on his bottle, waiting for either Dana or the man to emerge, vaguely wondering if Dana was just doing recon or already asking for permission.

Dana: Tolvin made his way back to the table long enough to whisper, "You paid for the grogs?"

Luke: "You and your damn Australian lingo. Yeah, I paid."

Dana: "Gonna follow our friend here and see what I can see."

Luke: "Am I going too....?"

Dana: "Do you want to?"

Luke: "I mean...I probably should. Me and him are gonna get kinda close, sort of."

Dana: "I'm just godsmacked that you're allowing this."

Luke: "Remember what I said. Only angel rules."

Dana: "The lengths I go for you," he sighed.

Luke: "Apparently I'm lousy with charm."

Dana: The wraith tilted his head. "Charm? Where?"

Luke: "Exactly. You're over here thinking I can seduce someone so that means I must have a lot of charm. Enough to get you to ask someone for permission before you borrow them."

Dana: "Yeah. Give it a go. Come on. Up," he gestured.

Luke: "I won't seduce," said Luke, sighing as he stood. "But I'll try to charm. Or at least plead our case."

Dana/Oliver: Only a man like Luke could believe so little in his obvious attraction yet demand justice from the legal system with such confidence. Mismatched bravery, he thought. So infuriating.

The man at the bar signed his receipt and tucked away his copy. The sucker back in his mouth, he headed for the door.

Luke: "How long do we wait before going after him?" he whispered. He didn't think they'd draw attention if they followed right away, but again, he didn't want to risk it. Especially with that woman staring.

Please don't let her recognize Q's face, Luke thought. Please God. I'm begging you. Do me a solid, just this once.

Dana: "I say you strike up something now. He's leaving."

The woman, deep brown hair in French braid, clothes one size too small, drew her attention back to her friends.

Luke: "Do I just start talking to him or do we actually follow him and then talk to him?"

Dana: "I'd rather go the Meet Joe Black method of this."

Luke: "The what now?"

Dana: "...Is that too old for you?"

Luke: "I have no idea. Gimme the highlights."

Dana: "No body. At all."

Luke: "I thought you didn't want to be a disembodied voice and that you wanted to kiss me and touch me."

Dana: "Not forever. I mean to talk to him. Get him talking. I'm going to shed this quick."

Luke: "If you're getting out of Q then I need to drive him home."

Dana: "I'll walk him home. I'll find you. We're wasting time."

Luke: "I need to take his car back anyway. It'll give me time to figure out how the hell I'm going to start a conversation with that man. It'll be quick."

Dana: "Luke. He's leaving now," said the waith flatly.

Luke: God fucking dammit. "Fine, I'll go after him. But promise me that you'll leave Q exactly how you found him."

Dana: "Tangles and all," he swore. "He was parked in the third spot next to the young tree. Good luck." Q headed for the door, which was caught by their target.

Luke: "I'm gonna need it," Luke sighed, taking another swig of beer before following after them. Subtly.

And made sure to walk a little too closely so he 'accidentally' brushed against him.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Oliver: "Yeah," muttered the human, doing a quick spin looking for what he had dropped. Three various colored keys and a single lion locket keychain.

Luke: Finally, God threw him a bone.

Luke bent to help the stranger pick up his things. The keychain was offered.

Oliver: The keys were immediately snatched back. The man had yet to look him in the eyes.

"Thanks," said in the same fashion. Stumbling, he headed for a beaten 1978 Ford pickup.

Luke: The stumble gave him another opening.

"Hey, I know it's none of my business, but are you okay to drive? Do you need a ride?"

Oliver: "M'not leavin' my truck here."

Luke: "I could give you a ride in your truck if you want?" If I really have charm, let it kick in.

Oliver: "S'fine. I'm - I'm good t'drive." Not really, but like hell he'd have a stranger in his truck with god knows what weapon.

Luke: "Um, no offense, but I don't think you are." He offered a small smile. "Sheriff's on patrol tonight and I don't think even I could convince him you were okay driving. I'm a lawyer, you see."

Oliver: "Ah, great. That's - That's great. What are ya, workin' for Uber?"

Luke: "Something like that. So, what do you say?"

Oliver: "No offense, man, but I dunno ya," he said to the ground. A moment later, a sniff.

Luke: "None taken." Dammit, make eye contact. People connect with eye contact. "Must be a small town thing, wanting to randomly help out. I grew up here. My brother owns the pub. I'm Luke. Luke Graham."

Oliver: "You're related t'O'Charlie’s?" Still, no eye contact. The ground must have been fascinating. He began to sway on his heels.

Luke: "Oh, no," he chuckled softly. "Sorry, I meant the pub in the center of town, across the street from the pawn shop. Pete's. Ever been?"

Oliver: "M'I like, under arrest or somethin'?"

Luke: Luke shook his head. Lord, this was a stubborn man. Which was perfect really, considering the man who could potentially be borrowing him.

"Nothing of the kind. I'd just hate for you to get into an accident."

Oliver: "So you're gonna let me go?" he asked, eyes glancing up for barely a second. Almost contact.

Luke: "Sure. Soon as you walk in a straight line to your car and convince me you're okay to drive." He tried for another smile, kept his tone light and casual and as not-pushy as possible.

Oliver: Crap and a half. Oliver looked to the grass and gravel with a frown. Surely he could walk a straight line. His goal was just there. His pick-up was the gateway to sanctuary, his ugly crumbled trailer with its wet wood scent. The mattress with the hole in it. His bottle of Belvedere waiting patiently for his lips.

He attempted a straight line. Too much effort was placed on perfection. His arms fanned out for balance.

Luke: Luke sighed softly. He was trying too hard, focusing too intensely on the ground. He definitely wasn't fit to drive.

After a few moments he said, "....you know what I'm going to say, right?"

Oliver: "I'll just walk home."

Luke: Dammit. He was so stubborn! Luke was dangerously close to sounding pushy.

"Sure you don't want a ride? It's a lot faster." You can go do whatever you want to do that much sooner. Come on, man.

Oliver: The stranger leaned against his truck and opened the door. The driver's window was rolled up and the truck locked from the inside. Seemed he was dead set on walking himself home.

Luke: ..........Well if he was going to walk, then he was going to have a companion to keep him from stumbling into the road.

Oliver: "Whatareyadoin'?" Yes, one word.

Luke: "Walking with you."

Oliver: "Ya don't even know me."

Luke: "I know. Don't have to know you to want you to get home safely."

Oliver: "You're fuckin' weird," he sighed, rubbing his face and the back of his neck.

Luke: "Not the worst thing I've ever been called."

Oliver: "Nosy, weird, scrupulous..." The pause lingered, and then, "Short."

Luke: Oh, good. Even this stranger was going to point out his height. "Still not the worst. Or the most original."

Oliver: "Scrupulo - Scrupulous was already used?"

Luke: "Well, I am a lawyer with a reputation for representing the underdog so..." Another smile.

Oliver: "So ya try t'help, like, drug addicts or people that yell they didn't do it?"

Luke: "I try to help the drug addicts that yell they didn't do it because they actually didn't do it but no one believes them."

Oliver: "But they're drug addicts n'ya wanna get paid."

Luke: "You really think the lawyer who takes the cases no one wants gets paid the big bucks?" Luke shook his head. "If I was in it for the money, I'd be the kind of lawyer who lands big fish clients who are guiltier than sin and puts them back on the street. That's not why I became a lawyer."

Oliver: "No one becomes a lawyer t'make the world a better place. Who are ya tryin' t'kid here, man," scoffed his walking partner. "Man, I am glad I never married. See shit all the time 'bout guys payin' out the ass for kids that ain't even theirs."

Luke: "I'm not delusional enough to think I can make the world a better place. The world's been shitty for thousands and thousands of years and it's going to keep being shitty for another few thousand. But I can make it a little less shitty for people who truly deserve it. For people in abusive relationships who want to protect themselves and their kids. For people on the cusp of losing their homes, for people who lose their jobs for no good fucking reason. And even for people whose partners want to use them as their own personal bank."

Oliver: "...Well," he felt in his dark brown denim jeans, offered a perfectly wrapped grape flavored Dum-Dum. Not that he believed him, but maybe it would quiet a block of his march back to the trailer park. Fuck. He had to make this trek back in the morning.

Luke: Luke blinked as he accepted the lollipop. Not exactly the response he'd expected. "Um, thanks. I can feel your skepticism from here." He unwrapped the Dum-Dum so he'd have something to do with his hands.

Oliver: After a block, the human sighed through his nose. "Ya gotta name, or should I just call ya Stubborn?"

Luke: Right back at you, he thought. "Luke Graham. You?"

Oliver: "Oliver." You get no last name.

Luke: He nodded. Oliver. It suited him. "Nice to meet you, Oliver."

Oliver: "Yeah, sure. M'waitin' for the surprise still."

Luke: "What surprise?"

Oliver: "Like, some other guy is gonna jump from behind a tree n'y'all think y'all gonna get my wallet. Or ya gonna try n'fuck me n'scar me for life."

Luke: "I don't want your wallet, Oliver. And I'm not going to fuck you."

Oliver: "Then what d'ya want from me?"

Luke: "To walk you home."

Oliver: "Bullshit."

Luke: It was and it wasn't. He did want to see this man safely home, but what he really needed to ask....after that 'scar me for life' comment he doubted he'd get a yes.

"You wouldn't believe me or even entertain my explanation, so I'm walking you home."

Oliver: "I think I'm just the right amount of buzzed, M'lettin' ya walk with me, ain't I?"

Luke: "Fair enough." He took a deep breath. "All right. Do you believe in spirits, Oliver?" Might as well jump right into it.

Oliver: "Like, the Holy Spirit n'shit?"

Luke: "Partly, but I meant spirits as in ghosts."

Oliver: "M'I your long-lost wife from the 1920s? Lemme guess. Ya were a saxophone player, n'ya got killed by bootleggers."

Luke: Luke's brows rose in surprise. "Isn't that a very specific example. That a yes?"

Oliver: "No." Just his imagination on coke. "I guess? I dunno."

Luke: "All right." That was about the level of belief he was expecting. "What if I told you ghosts were real?"

Oliver: "Seen one?" he scoffed.

Luke: "In a manner of speaking."

Oliver: "No shit?" Enthusiasm was injected for the sake of being polite.

Luke: "No shit." He vaguely suspected Oliver was humoring him, but at least he was listening. "Spoke to him. Touched him. Hell, I'm even tethering him to earth."

Oliver: "How'd ya do that?"

Luke: "By loving him."

Oliver: "...What's that?"

Luke: "He's tethered to earth because I love him and because his sister loves him. And because he loves us."

Oliver: "You're... serious, ain't ya?"

Luke: Luke simply nodded.

Oliver: "What's - Why ya tellin' me this shit?"

Luke: "Because he was murdered. Someone took him from me and didn't leave me so much as a grave to leave flowers on. They just left me a ghost who can't have his own body."

Oliver: "What - That don't -" he sighed. "The fuck does any of that mean, man? Why ya layin' this on me? Fuckin'..." No. For some reason he couldn't finish that sentence. He couldn't call him psycho.

Luke: "Any other day I wouldn't be. Believe me, I wouldn't be saying this to anyone on a normal day and I'm sorry I am today. And I'm sorry about what I'm about to ask you but you can say no and your no will be respected."

Oliver: "...You're freakin' me out, man." You need to go. He couldn't bring himself to say what he thought. Try though he might, he could not cease the memory of his daughter and the night she was born.

"...Hurry up."

Luke: "I'm sorry for that, too." He took a deep breath. "Know how I said my ghost couldn't have his own body? He can...borrow other people's bodies. It doesn't hurt them, I promise. They basically sleep through the whole thing."

Oliver: "...I think...you're on better stuff than I am." The subject was sobering to say the least. Surreal and just so goddamn strange. "You're sayin' ya believe in ghosts n'your boy toy was killed with no body and ya - what? Want mine?"

Luke: "I almost wish I was but I am stone cold sober, Oliver." He could only imagine how he sounded. He didn't even know if it was a good sign that Oliver wasn't running for the hills.

"That's what I'm saying. Ghosts are real, my boyfriend is one, and yes, I'm asking if he can borrow your body so I can have some kind of future with him."

Oliver: "Some - Some kinda what?" Oliver's brow crinkled. "...Luke. If what your sayin' means anything t'ya... he's dead. The dead don't get a second chance. That's it. Man...ya gotta move on from that. Just...go talk t'someone professional, okay, man?"

Luke: Luke took another deep breath, trying to center himself before he burst into tears in front of this man.

"That's what I thought. When his sister called me and told me he never came home that night, when I saw the blood in the woods...." He paused to take another breath. "It felt like my heart was being torn out of my chest. I thought, that's it. He's gone forever and I didn't get to say goodbye. But right when I was finally ready to let go of denial, he appeared in the living room and his sister and I both witnessed it. A year ago I would've agreed with you; not anymore. If I can't bury him, I'm going to help him have some kind of life even if he's dead. He deserves that. His sister deserves that. His little girl deserves that."

Oliver: A child. His weakness as a father. Children didn't deserve heartbreak. But the rationale...he couldn't let that go. Perhaps it was the tears in the stranger's eyes which led him to his next statement.

"Say...I suspend my belief for a minute. How d'ya know it was him? How d'ya know ya saw - or heard or whatever - a ghost?"

Luke: "He's proven it. Told me things only he would know, things I only ever told him. Plus it...feels like him, you know? It's an aura only he has."

Oliver: Oliver took to squatting on the side of the road. Hands clasped as though in prayer, pressed to his lips as he thought about what the hell situation he'd managed to find himself in.

"What if ya just thought ya heard it?"

Luke: "I wasn't the only one. His sister did too. And my friend Callum and Callum's dog."

Oliver: "Callum's...dog?"

Luke: "Dogs--and all animals really--can perceive things people can't."

Oliver: "N'ya wanna use me t'talk t'him again."

Luke: "Yes. If you let us."

Oliver: "Say all of it. The whole shebang again."

Luke: "All right. I am asking you if my dead boyfriend can borrow your body so I can be with him and so his sister and his little girl can have him back and if you say no it will be respected."

Oliver: Now he just wanted to see how far this man would go with this belief. It fascinated him. There was an angle there somewhere. "Impress me first. How 'bout that?"

Luke: Luke stared at him for a moment. "....Impress you?"

Oliver: "Yeah. Ya want my body. Prove ya deserve it."

Luke: "How?"

Oliver: "What ya got for me?'

Luke: "How am I supposed to impress you if you don't tell me what you wanna be impressed by? What, am I supposed to dance for your entertainment?"

Oliver: "Integrity, if you're honorable, tolerant, if the guy ya think exists is a tool n'and asshole."

Luke: "He's neither of those things. He's a good man. He saved and protected his sister, he adored his daughter."

Oliver: "How'd he do that?"

Luke: "He rescued her from the house where her parents were brutally murdered in front of her. They died trying to protect her."

Oliver: "A good Samaritan?"

Luke: "A good man, who couldn't leave a defenseless broken child in hell."

Oliver: "How did he know she was bein' attacked?"

Luke: "He was a hunter, and he'd been sent to deal with the two vampires who killed her parents. When he got to the house he killed them, but Logan's parents were already dead. He scooped her up and took her to where she'd be safe and became her mom and her dad and her brother and her best friend. When she grew up, she became a hunter. Just like him. Then he was taken from her and she lost the center of her universe. She still hasn't recovered. She really feels like an orphan now."

Oliver: Suddenly, Oliver got to his feet and waved off Luke's words like dust in his face. "Get the fuck outta here with that shit. S'one thing tryin' t'make me feel sympathy, n'I got that t'give. The rest is just bullshit."

Luke: Luke remained silent. Should've known this was hopeless. Any normal person would think he was a lunatic and here was the proof. He couldn't even blame Oliver; Luke knew he sounded crazy. He probably wouldn't believe him either if their roles were reversed.

Sighing, he started walking in the same direction they'd been heading before they stopped. Might as well take Oliver home and then...hell if he knew.

Oliver: Slowly, he found himself turning and following behind. Despite being the one going home, he felt as though he was the one assisting. This man needed a life, needed to move on. He pitied him.

"Ya got someplace t'be after this?"

Luke: "I'll probably crash at Logan's and go home in the morning. I live in Raleigh."

Oliver: "You're here for her?"

Luke: "In a lot of ways, yes. She's my best friend. But tonight I'm here because my boyfriend borrowed someone's body without permission and I made him put them back."

Oliver: "...How...have ya gotten t'this state of mind?"

Luke: "Losing a loved one to a violent death does a number on a person," he deadpanned.

Oliver: "I guess. I wouldn't know. Not really."

Luke: "Well lucky you."

Oliver: "How many ya lost, 'sides the dude?"

Luke: "Just him. But I nearly lost my dad a while back. He was in a bad car accident."

Oliver: "Have ya seen anyone 'bout what happened? Or...like...tried anything?"

Luke: "No," Luke said softly. "I don't need a shrink to tell me what I already know." The second question wasn't answered. He hadn't, but that wasn't to say the thought hadn't crossed his mind.

Oliver: Oliver began inadvertently chewing his lip. So dry. An easy task. "Ya need help, man. Ya can't go through somethin' like that without talkin' t'someone. Not the sister, either. Someone who, like... Someone whose lost someone before."

Luke: "What good is that gonna do? Talking to someone won't bring Dana back. Talking to someone won't get him a body. Logan has her faith, she has the church. And she's got me."

Oliver: "N'askin' me for my body ain't gonna do nothin' 'cause...it ain't..." Oliver sighed. "Sorry, man, but this shit ain't real."

Luke: "Yeah, that's what I should've guessed you'd say."

Oliver: The road suddenly seemed colder. This was too much.

"M'good the rest of the way. You're good t'go back, man."

Luke: "Already walked this far, might as well walk the rest of the way. Unless you don't want to be seen in public with the short blond lunatic lawyer either."

Oliver: "I mean, what else ya got for me? Can't be worse than that. But uh, I got shit t'do in the...mornin'..."

Slowly, Oliver rubbed all around his throat, the back of his neck. He breathed in deep and sighed through his nose.

"Fuck," he groaned.

Luke: "And I'm walking you home so you can sleep and then get up and do it." He looked over at him. "You okay?"

Oliver: Something was lodged in his throat. He swallowed and swallowed again. No, that wasn't it. It felt as though he was in a turtleneck one size too small.

"...Yeah, fine. Just...go on, now. M'fine."

Luke: Luke's brow furrowed in concern. "Oliver? What's happening? What's wrong?"

Dana: 'You did your best, Luke. Let me take over from here,' whispered a familiar voice in Luke's ear, as though right behind him, leaning down to accommodate.

Luke: Oh shit. Shit shit shit!

"Dana, no! Angel rules, you promised!"

Oliver: "Wh-What?" Bewilderment drew Oliver's brow tight.

Luke: God fucking--would nothing go right today?

"He's trying to borrow you without permission, which is the exact OPPOSITE of what he promised me!"

'Dana,' he added mentally. 'I swear to god if you get inside Oliver I am going to be so fucking pissed at you.'

Dana/Oliver: "S'just a sore throat! Stop with the-" he coughed.

Whatever Luke was thinking was beyond the wraith's capacity of understanding.

'He's going to do everything in his power to rationalize. That's what your kind do. He won't hear me right now, either.'

Luke: "Then we wait! You are not going to do this, Dana! Leave him be!"

Dana/Oliver: "Stop talkin' t'yourself!" No, fuck whatever this was. Oliver turned to his road and began a healthy jog towards the trailer park entrance, narrowly missing a dented blue Camry.

'He's getting away.'

Luke: Luke didn't follow. That would only encourage Dana to follow, too.

"Let him. I am not going to let you take him or anyone else by force."

Dana: 'Am I the man you love or an enemy now?'

Luke: "It's because I love you that I'm not letting you! That's not you and I'm not going to let that become you! You promised."

Dana/Oliver: After a firm blast from the horn, the Camry sped away down the road towards the path they had taken. The human seemingly tripped onto a knee, hand over his throat.

'I didn't spend another lifetime building up to this moment to be blocked by your morality! Fog or no Fog, I'm going to take him.'

Luke: "Fog? What--Dana, please! We can find someone else!"

Dana: 'Then negotiate with him, Luke. Help him into the house. Play the hero.'

Luke: "This isn't about playing the hero! This about mitigating this incredibly fucked up thing we're doing! You think I want to lose you? Again? To some godawful spirit punishment? I'd rather fucking throw myself into the river!"

Dana: 'Do not ever say that again! Do you hear me? Never!'

Luke: "You think this is the first time it's crossed my mind? Logan isn't only your tether, Dana."

Dana/Oliver: 'Do not ever tell her you've said or thought that. She has enough on her shoulders. Do not add more weight.'

Slowly, Oliver had stumbled to his feet.

Luke: "If you think I ever would then you really don't know me. I wouldn't put all this shit on her. She's my best friend, I love her. My demons are the last thing she fucking needs."

Dana: 'I don't, Luke. I don't know you enough, and neither do you of me. Tonight was meant to be the start. Do not let this man get away. We need him.'

Luke: "I know we need him. And I know morality is all dust in the wind to you and I understand why but it isn't to me. I just don't want them to hurt you for taking him by force. Taking him at all is already forbidden."

Dana: 'Luke. Stop, please,' said the voice in the calmest manner it could muster. 'Just...make friends with him, get on his good side. Try again.'

Luke: "He thinks I'm insane. He wants to send me to therapy. I can practically feel the pity oozing out of him."

Dana/Oliver: 'And right now he's recovering from my hand. Right now he'll accept anything.'

As it were, the human was shuffling his way towards a beaten beige colored trailer. Three rows of seven trailers each. Despite the dishevelment, the lot felt like a community. To the left, a party loud and clear full of laughter and country music. The middle row was silent and dark, tolerant and sleeping. Oliver's sanctuary was to the right, closest to the forest.

Luke: "He's going to punch me in the face," Luke murmured to himself, cautiously approaching Oliver.

Oliver: "Ya done talkin' t'yourself?" croaked the human, feeling in his pockets for his keys.

Luke: He nodded. "I'm sorry I freaked you out."

Oliver: "Ya need t'go home n'clear your head." Finally, the keys. "Thanks for the walk, I guess."

Luke: "You're welcome." He sighed. "I know you don't believe me, but everything I've told you is true, Oliver."

Oliver: "I think ya believe that."

Luke: "I do. And....I might be crossing a line, but I think you might be starting to think I'm not entirely full of it."

Oliver: "...What makes ya think that?"

Luke: "You felt something just a while ago."

Oliver: "Ya wanna know what that was?"

Luke: "What was it?"

Oliver: "I snorted fuckin' coke 'fore comin' outside. S'just...musta been somethin' shitty in it."

Luke: "Does bad coke usually feel like something is trying to climb inside you?"

Oliver: Oliver's nostrils flared. He looked inside his dingy living room and back out, rocking on the stairs. "Just a sore throat."

Luke: "But is it actually?" Luke asked softly.

Oliver: A sigh. "Ya want a beer?"

Luke: He nodded. "Sure."

Oliver: "S'Coors. Ya good with that?"

Luke: Another nod. "Coors is fine."

Oliver: The light was flicked on, the door left open. From inside came the howling bark of a basset hound.

Luke: The sound of the dog was a welcome relief. Animals dispelled tension.

"What's your dog's name?" he asked as he stepped inside.

Oliver: "Humphreys." The moment Luke was inside, a can of Coors Lite came flying for his head. A five-year-old black and white basset hound came bounding from behind for a curious sniff.

Luke: It was a good thing Luke had guarded a goal more than once in his life, otherwise that can would've knocked him right in the face.

"Jesus," he hissed, just barely catching it. "Little warning next time, would you please?" He lowered to greet the dog. "Hey, pal."

Oliver: Humphreys sniffed all around the newcomer's palm before giving an approving lick. His attention was brought to the doorway, staring outside... supposedly.

Quietly, a can was being chugged in the kitchen.

Luke: Luke scratched the dog's ears, briefly followed his gaze. "Good boy."

He opened his own can and took a sip. He wasn't really in a drinking mood but if it gave Oliver a sense of normalcy, he'd go along with it.

Oliver: Whatever was in the doorway prompted a soft warning growl from the hound.

"Humphreys," Oliver said sternly, assuming the intimidation was meant for their guest.

The trailer had seen better days. The leather couch was riddled with tears and worn patches. The only new-looking item was the pristine forty-inch television next to the window. The carpet, once a soft tan plush had flattened from high traffic, sprinkled with various stains. Only one door across the living room. Another on the other side of the kitchen. Simple. His. Oliver was content.

Luke: Luke knew differently, but he wasn't about to start up again and make Oliver freak out again. Instead, he went the subtle route.

"It's okay, buddy," he said soothingly, petting Humphreys again. "Nothing's going to hurt you. It's okay."

It wasn't the nicest or the most well-kept home he'd ever been in, but there was no doubt that it was a home. Oliver was comfortable here. He'd probably feel more comfortable if it was clean and a few things were replaced but that was probably just Luke projecting.

Oliver: "He was the runt of the litter," Oliver sniffed. "I think, anyway. They were all really small. Always wanted one."

The aluminum was crushed and tossed in the overflowing trashcan. Out came another.

"Maybe ya should get a dog."

Luke: "I've thought about it before. I think I'd need to get two though, so they could keep each other company while I'm at work."

Oliver: "Neighbor comes by t'spend time with him. Her husband's gone all the time so why not?"

Luke: He nodded. "What do you do?"

Oliver: The question was the cause of silence. He stared into his beer. "Work at the docks."

Luke: Another nod. "Helping the fishermen or the cargo boats?"

Oliver: "Cargo. Fisherman if available, I guess. Anything for a buck."

Luke: "You should hit up Tristan Seger. He's been looking for help. His partner's wife is having a kid and he's going to be taking some time off soon."

Oliver: "Ya friends with em?"

Luke: "Yep. Known him since we were kids."

Oliver: "He think like ya do?"

Luke: "What do you mean?"

Oliver: "Ya know. Believes in ghosts."

Luke: "I don't know."

Oliver: "So just ya n'the sister?"

Luke: "And Callum."

Oliver: "Callum....?"

Luke: "Another friend. The one who also knows about Dana."

Oliver: "So...why don't ya ask him t'use his body?"

Luke: "He's married."

Oliver: "So? Oh. No!" Oliver frowned. Whether he believed or not seemed to dangle by this statement.

Luke: "I'm not going to marry you or have sex with you."

Oliver: "Then what did ya want?"

Luke: "To kiss him. Hug him. Be held by him."

Oliver: "That means kissin' me."

Luke: "It does, yes."

Oliver: "So ya wanna kiss me."

Luke: "It would appear so."

Oliver: "I'm straight."

Luke: "That much is obvious."

Oliver: "Obvious?" he seemed offended.

Luke: "Earlier you said something about fucking you and scarring you for life."

Oliver: "Yeah. So go pick your Callum friend."

Luke: "He's married."

Oliver: "But it ain't 'bout sex, so what's it matter?" he asked with raised brow.

Luke: "It's about love, and that does matter."

Oliver: "But it wouldn't be him. What's your logic?"

Luke: "My logic is that I'll take what I can get."

Oliver: "N'I'm the best ya got."

Luke: "My only choices are having him in someone else's body or not having him at all."

Oliver: "N'it's gotta be me?"

Luke: "I'd....like it to be, yes."

Oliver: "Why?"

Luke: "I'm not sure. Gut feeling I guess."

Oliver: "Yeah. Sure. Just had t'be me."

Luke: "Yeah. Sorry."

Oliver: "No. Don't gimmie that. I talked 'bout this integrity shit already. What made ya pick me?" A darkness seemed to cast over his eyes. "Ya tell me why ya picked me n'put me through this or get the fuck out."

Luke: "The same reason you go drink at O'Charlie's," Luke said softly. "Dana wanted to find a random drug addict. O'Charlie's was the only place I could think to look. It's a place without hope, where people go to disappear. He spotted you and thought you were the best choice and believe me when I tell you I know how fucked that sounds."

Oliver: "Ya picked me...because I look hopeless n'pitiful? That's what you're sayin' t'me? Ya followed me home 'cause ya wanted t'fuck a random at a bar, n'ya made up this elaborate story t'make me feel somethin' for ya? The fuck is wrong with ya?!"

He was going to give himself a nosebleed, he just knew it, but that wasn't important. He pointed to the door. "Out. Get outta my-"

Again, he coughed.

Luke: Luke shook his head. "I didn't follow you home to fuck you, I didn't make anything up. Everything I've told you is true. All of it. I know it's fucked up. Even without the reason for choosing you it's fucked up. You can think I'm crazy all you want but I have not lied to you, Oliver."

Oliver: "I said get out!" shouted through coughing.

Luke: Was Dana trying to enter Oliver again? Would he tell Luke if he was?

It didn't matter. This was a lost cause.

Luke turned to leave. Under his breath he said, "Don't, Dana. We'll find someone else."

Dana: 'He's going to learn.'

The overhead light of the living room snapped and fizzed a violent death. The door slammed shut before Luke could reach for the handle. Humphreys, realizing the severity, began his restless howl.

Should Luke turn to face the sound of Dana Tolvin, he would find Oliver's back to him, head hung loosely against his shoulder.

Luke: Luke jumped as the door slammed closed. He suddenly thought back to Dana's display in the sheriff's station a year ago. He felt very much like he'd felt then.

"Dana, please. It doesn't have to be him." He bent to try to comfort Humphreys. "We'll find someone else, I can ask Callum if he knows someone."

Dana: "No point," said Oliver softly.

Luke: "What do you mean there's no p--fuck." Luke sighed. "Dana?"

Dana: "Jesus Christ Almighty, this head is static."

Luke: "He snorted a whole mess of cocaine and chased it with beer." He got to his feet. "This went about as bad as it could've possibly gone."

Dana: "Coulda - Could have been much worse. Could have tried to assault you, or worse." Oliver looked over his own hand. Tolvin's new hand. "Can't read him at all. Don't know how long I have. It's a noise I can't shake."

Luke: "He wouldn't have assaulted. He would've called some guys with tranq guns and giant butterfly nets to come get me."

Dana: "You don't know that," Tolvin said sternly. "And neither do I..."

Luke: "Sure I do. He thinks I'm a lunatic."

Dana: "Well, he knows I'm real now."

Luke: "Then instead of thinking I'm crazy he'll just hate me."

Dana: "You asked. You'll be fine. Nothing doing for now. I'm inside. He's buried safely behind his drugs. Hell. He might now even remember."

Luke: "I asked and he said no."

Dana: "I'm already in."

Luke: "Yeah. You are." He sighed again. "What now?"

Dana: "Now we just...you take a moment to breathe."

Luke: Rather than do that, he just petted the dog some.

Dana: Slowly, with a slight stumble, Oliver's body began to roam the living room, touching various items, feeling textures, closing his eyes and breathing.

Luke: Luke sighed and rested his forehead against the dog's. This was such a damn weird night. He was so tired. So...drained. He just wanted to go to bed and stay there for at least three days.

Dana: Humphreys' licked Luke's hand with purpose. Something was wrong with his human. Surely, this one could help.

"It's been a lifetime since I felt any of this. I nearly..." wept as the demon.

Luke: He scratched the dog's ears. "I'm sorry, buddy. He's not hurt, I promise. He's just sleeping. I won't let him get hurt, okay? I'll keep him safe. Don't be too mad at me."

Luke glanced over at Dana. "Are you okay?"

Dana: "...Yeah. Just adjusting. I spent the bulk of Q driving. It's just nice to just feel again."

Luke: Luke nodded. "How's your...is it spirit energy? You did a lot just now."

Dana: "I'm barely hanging on."

Luke: "You need rest. We both do."

Dana: "You help. Doesn't mean you have to be awake."

Luke: "You sure? You've got to be exhausted. You said you were barely hanging on."

Dana: "Can you sleep here?"

Luke: "Not very well. Do you wanna...."

Dana: "Do I wanna what?"

Luke: "Go home. To Logan."

Dana: "I don't have the energy for that walk."

Luke: "We're not walking. I'll go back for Oliver's truck and drive us."

Dana: "You're not walking alone."

Luke: "I'll be fine. It's not a long walk. I can take Humphreys with me."

Dana: "He's...I don't want to see her."

Luke: "Dana. We can't keep this from her. She's part of the reason why you did this."

Dana: "But not tonight. Just give me tonight. She won't understand."

Luke: Luke sighed. He couldn't argue that. This whole thing was a lot to take in, even for someone who did believe ghosts and things existed.

"Okay," he said after a few moments. He pulled out his phone. "I know where we can sleep."

Dana: Surprisingly no argument. The catch, which he had been waiting for, was just around the corner.

"Why not here? I have to put him back before daylight."

Luke: "I can't sleep here, Dana. I won't get any rest. I'll make sure you get him back here when you need to but I cannot sleep here."

Dana: Tolvin rubbed between his new eyes. The body seemed to twitch. He popped Oliver's neck.

"Where, then?"

Luke: "My brother's house."

Dana: "That'll be a barrage of questions."

Luke: Luke shook his head. "It won't be."

Dana: "How you think?"

Luke: "Just...trust me. He won't ask questions."

Dana: "...Fine. Fine. The dog stays. Just...find its food and water bowl."

Luke: He nodded. As much as he wanted to take Humphreys along, being in a new environment with new people and a cat would probably stress him out even more than he already was.

"I'll make sure he has both. See a dog bed anywhere?"

Dana: "Probably just takes the couch. These doors are closed for a reason." He headed for the front door to let the thing out. He didn't necessarily hate dogs. Tolvin had little experience with them. Too busy to have ever considered in his lifetime.

"Your heart is too big."

Luke: "Better that than too small," he sighed, going through to Oliver's bedroom. He came back out a few moments later with a pillow and several shirts, which he fashioned into a little nest on the couch.

"Oliver's smell will comfort him."

Dana: "I'm gonna laugh if he flips his shit over those shirts."

Humphreys sniffed around the yard for a while, relieved himself, and returned.

"Good boy," came almost naturally from the former hunter.

Luke: "Owning an animal comes with having their fur all over your clothes. I'm sure he's used to it."

He found the dog food and filled Humphreys' bowl, gave him some fresh water, found treats and gave him one of those.

Dana: Oliver's body leaned against the wall, eyes closing.

"How far is it to your brother's? Distance don't really feel the same here."

Luke: "Not too far." He shot Pete a text. "He'll be here soon."

Dana: "What do you mean he'll be here soon? Why is he coming here? What did you tell him?"

Luke: "That I needed him to come pick me and a friend up and we needed to stay at his house tonight."

He pulled up Pete's response and showed Dana his phone.

Pete's text--which had come almost immediately after Luke's--simply said: I'll be right there.

Dana: "Hell ask questions we can't answer."

Luke: "Can you please trust me, Dana? Please. Just this once."

Dana: Slowly, the eyes fell closed once more.

Luke: "I'm going to take that as a 'fine'."

Dana: "Mm." The body slumped forward, slid against the wall to land firmly on his rear.

Luke: Luke was immediately at his side. "Dana?"

Dana: "Just resting, Luke. Calm down."

Luke: He gave a huge exhale. "Okay." His nerves were so shot. He definitely needed to go to bed.

A few minutes later, Luke heard a car pull up and exhaled again. "Pete's here."

Dana: "Do you want this?"

Luke: "Do I want what?"

Dana: "Me. Here. In your life. Don't think about fetters right now. Answer me honestly. Would you rather be with the demon?"

Luke: "Dana." Luke knelt beside him. "Q is my friend. He's helped me. I know the relationship is hard for you to understand and I know you don't approve of it but I love you. I'm in love with you. Not having you in my life has been pure hell."

Dana: "...I...know it's not just that man," said the wraith in quiet tone, new eyes looking down at their feet.

Luke: He tilted his head. "What do you mean?" he asked just as quietly.

Dana: "He was just asleep. Not...fucked up like this body. I saw you."

Luke: "My reaction to Q's body was different because I know him. I don't know Oliver, but he seems like a man with a lot of demons. And who doesn't believe in them."

Dana: "Not - That's not what I'm talking about! I saw you with two men! At the same time!"

Luke: ....Oh. Dana had seen...oh.

Luke could only nod. There was no denying. No explaining it away. He had been with two men. And Dana had seen.

Dana: "I don't understand why I'm here. Why you're my tether to this realm."

Luke: He felt a lump slowly forming in his throat. "Would you rather I not be?" he whispered.

Dana: "This whole night. We have done nothing but argue."

Luke: "We're in a fucked up situation. We left so many things unsaid because we thought we'd have more time." Very slowly, very carefully, he lifted a hand to Dana's new face. "I don't want us to argue. I want us to be okay."

Dana: That hand felt just as warm and inviting as with the demonic body. "You want this struggle for the rest of your life?"

Luke: "It won't always be a struggle. We'll find our rhythm."

Dana: He didn't want to argue with that. Not tonight, despite how easy it could be. Instead the body sighed and was forced to its feet.

"Your brother's waiting."

Luke/Pete: Luke nodded, helping Dana up.

Pete meanwhile was hovering near his car, debating whether to go up to the door or wait for Luke and his friend to come out.

He'd taken a few steps closer to the trailer, wondering again what the hell his brother was doing in Edenton without his car when the door finally opened.

"Hey," he greeted, sighing with relief.

Dana: Tolvin kept his eyes to the ground as he passed the elder brother. He paused at the passenger door and stared. He took a deep breath and frowned.

"S'a very... masculine scent." Not his best imitation accent, but it would do.

Luke/Pete: "Pete's a very masculine guy," said Luke, opening the door for Dana. He turned to his brother with a grateful smile.

"Hey. Any room at the inn?"

"Always is."

Dana: "Rollin' 'round in the woods kinda masculine." So, Luke doesn't know, or Luke doesn't want me to know.

"Always ain't a good sign," he smirked. Blame it on the drugs. Easy out.

Luke/Pete: Pete considered his brother's....friend. "Hmm."

"Pete's always liked the woods." Luke kept his tone light, trying to quell any tension.

He went back to make sure the door was properly closed before getting into the car. "All right, let's go."

Dana: Luke was waited on before taking his place nearest the window. Was that even a subject worth approaching? Fera were extremely dangerous. Worse than many vampyre. But would he turn claw against family?

"Don't think we've met," he said cautiously. "Everyone in the family as tall as ya are, or are ya the exception?"

Pete: "We haven't," Pete said evenly, glancing at Luke's friend in the rearview mirror as he pulled out of the trailer park.

"I'm Pete, and yeah, I'm an exception. Most of the family is average height. And you are?"

Dana: "Average height for a man," he smirked.

Luke/Pete: Pete almost smiled. "Very funny. Meant your name."

Luke gave Dana a subtle poke.

Dana: Tolvin closed his eyes for a moment. That drug-addled fucking brain.

"Oliver Cole."

Pete: "Nice to meet you, Oliver Cole." And that would be the extent of his interrogation. Anything else could wait until later.

Dana: Luke's hand was taken and squeezed. Don't poke me, his frown said. Still...that hand was brought to his lips. How would this body react to his soul? Warmth on his cheeks.

Luke: Luke met that frown with a smile. For a moment, it was almost as if he was looking at Dana's real face.

The kiss made his heart clench in his chest, and his hand squeeze Dana's.

Dana: The remainder of the drive was silent. This was more trouble than it was worth in Tolvin's opinion. They could have stayed at the trailer; when he was finished with the body, he would have dropped it on the bed, where it would go about its business with the truck and the rest of his life until needed once more. This was love. Love meant compliance.

Luke: They could have, but something about that place weighed on Luke's soul. He wouldn't have been able to rest. And even though he knew there would be tension and questions to answer in the morning, he could rest at Pete's house.

A few minutes later, they were pulling into a neat driveway in front of a well-kept house in a well-kept neighborhood. An orange and white cat waited for its owner on the porch and the windows glowed warm and welcoming.

Dana: Something within the wraith stirred. No, that wasn't himself. That wasn't his pessimism and concern. That was Oliver Langdon Cole.

"Now that's interesting," Tolvin muttered.

Pete: "What is?" Pete asked.

Dana: "Nothin'." Back came the accent. "Just not what I expected. S'nice."

Pete: "Thank you. I built a lot of it myself."

Dana: "Good job," he nodded, excusing himself from the car.

Luke/Pete: Luke followed after, then Pete. He scooped up Midas as he headed inside, leading the way upstairs and to the guest bedroom.

Dana: Tolvin followed behind the trail of people, glancing into each room he could. Old habits. Windows, doors; any means of an exit. The house had good bones, but he wasn't interested in that.

Pete: Pete held the door open for Dana. "There's towels and extra blankets in the closet. Bathroom's down the hall. There's fresh sheets on your bed, Luke." The bed in the room that was Luke's. Because surely, Luke was going to stay in a separate bedroom. Surely.

Dana: "Rolled out the red carpet for him, didn't ya?" A good brother. Tolvin could see that. He took to a corner of the room, arm around his ribs, fingernail between his teeth. He'd seen a glimpse of this behavior at the bar. Consistency felt utmost.

Pete: "He's my brother," Pete said simply. "Every carpet he steps on is red if I can help it."

Dana: "That's sweet," he muttered.

Pete: "It's my job."

Dana: Tolvin took to silence, deciding it was the safest bet.

Luke/Pete: Pete gave his brother a look as he turned to leave. "I'll let you get some rest."

"Thanks, Pete," Luke said softly.

Dana: Quietly, he waited for descending footsteps. Holding his breath felt like a new concept again.

"How'd that go?"

Luke: "A lot better than I was expecting."

Dana: "It's not without his worry. That's, as he said, his job."

Luke: "Yeah. And he takes it to heart. I'll be getting the third degree over breakfast."

Dana: "It's still me, but doing this and bringing your brother into this I have to play a role."

Luke: "Just be you. He doesn't know Oliver Cole."

Dana: "But he'll see him when he owns this skin again."

Luke: "Not necessarily."

Dana: "You don't know that for certain. Besides, fifty years gone I still sound Australian."

Luke: "You do." And damn if that didn't make him smile. "How is that even possible?"

Dana: "Time both stands still and leaps forward in the Shadowlands." The wraith smiled once more. "What's that look on your face?"

Luke: Luke just shook his head. "Nothing, nothing. I just love that you still sound Australian."

Dana: "Well, Oliver doesn't. So it's a treat only for you and Logan." Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he began to stare at the door.

"He's waking up, by the way."

Luke: Oh, hell. "Does that mean it's time for you to sleep?"

Dana: "He has opinions on the house and your brother."

Luke: "I'm sure he does. He can keep them to himself." Oliver could think whatever he wanted about Luke, but not Pete. Luke wouldn't allow it.

Dana: Tolvin smiled again, an action which highlighted Oliver's voluptuous lips and almond eyes.

"I love you."

Luke: Luke stepped closer, took that face between his hands. "I love you, too," he murmured, placing a gentle kiss between his eyes.

Dana: Eyes which closed. The body sighed. So that's what he'd been missing.

"What now?"

Luke: "Now, we rest. It's been an intense day. My room is across the hall if you need anything."

Dana: Oh, no. The wraith deadpanned. "What?"

Luke: "A glass of water or a snack or someone to shoo the cat away when he scratches the door."

Dana: "I don't want our effort to go to waste. If we're going to be separated I might as well have stayed where it was safe."

Luke: Luke blinked. Did Dana want...? "You...do you want me to stay?"

Dana: "Of course."

Luke: "....Oh. Okay."

Dana: "What is it you want?"

Luke: "I just wanna be near you."

Dana: "I'm not asking for sex."

Luke: "I know."

Dana: "If being near is being across a hallway then by all means."

Luke: "No, I just didn't want you to feel overwhelmed or...smothered.'

Dana: "I've been gone fifty years."

Luke: "You have. I don't wanna sleep across the hall from you."

Dana: "Then why-" the wraith sighed as though defeated. "I'm just going to lay here."

Luke: Luke nodded and took a seat on the other side of the bed. How could this still feel so new after everything they'd been through?

Dana: Because. Despite the years of separation, more for one than the other, this was their first experience in bed. Nothing more than lying together in bed.

He offered Oliver's hand.

"Do you want to label this?"

Luke: "Labels and I haven't historically been friends," he said softly, taking the hand and holding it. "Do you want to?"

Dana: "There are enough labels in the Shadowlands. I don't want to add Skinlands to that as well."

Luke: "Then we'll be label-less. We'll just be us."

Dana: Is that enough? he mused. "Mm." Eyes closed. The body began to relax.

Luke: Luke tentatively rested his head against Dana's shoulder. Despite his tiredness, he wanted to enjoy this rare moment of closeness before sleep took him.

Dana: The body itself was not the true source of exhaustion. How long had he been here, was the question, followed by calculation of what he had missed at home.

Eyes opened. He turned ever so slightly towards his fetter to watch him sleep.

Luke: The further Luke slid into sleep, the more relaxed and peaceful his face became. All the worries and burdens that weighed on him in his waking hours lifted away, leaving him looking light and very nearly carefree. As carefree as Luke ever got, anyway. There was still the tiniest furrow between his brows.

And though his mind rested, his body was still very aware of Dana's presence. It curled closer to him, held his hand to his chest, tried to draw warmth and comfort and safety.

Dana: Tolvin's gaze altered between the man in his arms and the door. He was meant to rest. Soulful sleep could wait, surely, until tomorrow. The brother was near, curious, waiting. He would have done the same. Peter was of similar blood and principle.

Pete: Pete's curiosity, though rampant and relentless, had been temporarily put aside in favor of focusing on his evening prayer. It was a ritual he'd begun in France and one he often still practiced. Pagan prayer--Druid prayer--helped him keep the inner peace he'd found at his mentor's side.

Inner peace and focus, both of which he'd suspected he'd need very soon.

Dana: 'You can't keep me forever. Can you?'

The wraith scoffed. He was awake. How interesting. Why hadn't the demon regained consciousness while used, he mused.

"Keep quiet," he whispered. "I'll be done with you in a few hours."

Luke: Luke stirred a bit, cuddling even closer. He'd always been a light sleeper, no matter how tired he was.

Dana: Oh. He just learned something new...from a man he'd strived to touch in the span of a weak man's lifetime. He shut his mouth and caressed his blond hair. He would deal with the human when alone.

Luke: He sighed softly in his sleep. The furrow in his brow was easing a bit at Dana's touch, for although he was in a difference body, he was still him.

Dana: Off and on throughout the night, Tolvin faded from the body. His host slept peacefully beside his companion. His dread was sunrise. When the unwelcoming light kissed Oliver's skin, he frowned.

Gently, Luke was pulled to his chest.

Luke: Luke remained glued to Dana's side throughout the night, scarcely moving a single inch unless it was to move closer to his almost boyfriend.

Rather like he was doing now. He was so easily guided by Dana's touch it was as if he'd been waiting for it. He was going to have a hard time untangling himself from Luke's grasp.

Dana: "Luke," he whispered. "We need to go. Come on." Their first time together, and his number one concern was his best impression when Luke opened his eyes.

Luke: He made a small noise of protest, not fully awake yet and not willing to be. He clung tighter.

Dana: New tactic, forehead to forehead, he breathed in a scent he thought so unlikely to enjoy again.

"Come on, Luke. I have to put him back."

Luke: Luke just nuzzled in and held tighter. "Mmmmmm....."

Dana: The human would hear a gentle laugh. "Enough now." The softest bite he would ever experience was placed on his neck.

Luke: He gave a small sound of surprise that sounded very nearly like a squeak and was followed by another sound that was distinctly a giggle.

Dana: "So you are awake, you liar."

Luke: "Am not," he slurred.

Dana: "Are you dreaming?"

Luke: "Nu-uh."

Dana: "Then you're awake."

Luke: "Not awake until I open my eyes. Science."

Dana: "I have to go, Luke."

Luke: That had his eyes finally opening.

Dana: "You don't have to come with me."

Luke: "I should," he said softly.

Dana: "You don't have to do anything."

Luke: "I want to."

Dana: "Then we need to go. Oliver will wake soon."

Luke: Luke nodded, rubbing his eyes as he reluctantly untangled himself from Dana.

Dana: "We're walking?"

Luke: Another nod. "Pete'll definitely ask questions then."

Dana: "Drama." Softly, he bit his lip. "How many... abnormal creatures do you know personally?"

Luke: "That I know of? Just you, and you're not abnormal or a creature."

Dana: "You've never seen anything else?"

Luke: "Not unless it when I was really little and don't remember."

Dana: His brother could have shown him. Delirium could have overwhelmed him. He would hold his interrogation for now.

"Quietly, then. Let's go." He wanted more. Kissing the side of Luke's mouth felt appropriate.

Luke: Appropriate and completely welcome. He wanted more, too. One night spent sleeping side by side wasn't nearly enough after such a long year.

"Okay. Let's go."

Dana: Luke would be gestured to lead, watching the hallway, checking the doors and windows within view for their path. It was the crack of dawn; surely the Fera was asleep.

Luke: He moved as silently as a cat, carefully stepping over the creaky board at the top of the stairs. Pete's sleep may have been far more profound than his, but Luke still didn't want to risk it.

Only when they were out and headed down the street did he relax.

Dana: "You slept well?" he finally asked down the road.

Luke: Luke nodded. "I did." Better than he had in days. "You?"

Dana: "I didn't... sleep."

Luke: His brow furrowed. "I thought you needed to rest. Regain your energy."

Dana: "I wanted to watch you."

Luke: ".....Watch me?"

Dana: "Sounds crude, I guess. I haven't seen you in years."

Luke: Luke found himself wanting to take Dana's hand, but perhaps that wouldn't be welcome.

"You watched my sleep," he said softly. "Doesn't sound bad at all."

Dana: "Did you dream?"

Luke: "I don't think so. Can't remember if I did."

Dana: "What will you do now?"

Luke: "Walk you back, go get Oliver's truck and bring it back, then go back to my brother's, ask him to drive me home, and get interrogated on the drive."

Dana: "Do you want to go it alone?"

Luke: "Pete's brand of relentless isn't something I'd subject you to."

Dana: "I can follow, if you want."

Luke: "You don't have to."

Dana: "You should stop doing that."

Luke: "Stop doing what?"

Dana: "Treating yourself as secondary."

Luke: Luke just blinked.

Dana: "You speak incredibly passively for a lawyer standing up for others."

Luke: "Just don't wanna put you off. Pete doesn't pull his punches."

Dana: "You're an adult. Youngest or not. You're perfectly capable."

Luke: "Of plenty of things, sure. Explaining all this so he doesn't think I'm insane? Maybe less so."

Dana: "He won't think you're insane."

Luke: "What normal person wouldn't? 'Oh yeah, Pete, my dead boyfriend is in this guy Oliver's body for a bit and Oliver has a lot of opinions about it'."

Dana: "That's under the assumption he's normal," he said quietly.

Luke: "He's one of the most normal things in my life. He's my rock, my dad's, Stella's, my mom's. He's the sun, keeping us warm and safe and making sure we don't float into the abyss of space."

Dana: "Normal is relative. I'm normal. There's...more to your brother."

Luke: Luke frowned. "What do you mean?"

Dana: "You'll have to ask him."

Luke: He'd do no such thing, but he nodded anyway.

Dana: The wraith scoffed.

Luke: "You ever hear the story of Pandora's Box?"

Dana: "I don't want to hear you're a coward."

Luke: "It's not cowardice. My family's been through enough, coincidentally because of something very akin to Pandora's Box. I'm not going down that road again. If Pete has secrets, he can keep them."

Dana: "The white picket fence doesn't exist, Luke. Learn to accept what's in front of you."

Luke: He gave a humorless chuckle. "Believe me, I know. God knows I know. Those white picket fences don't exist for anyone, especially not my family. We've all had a lot of accepting to do."

Dana: "Then accept this. Just like your demonic lover. Just like Callum MacGillivray, and a quarter of this town."

Luke: "If he wants me to know, he'll tell me when he's ready."

Dana: "You can do better than that."

Luke: "Whatever it is he's apparently keeping secret, it's his, Dana. He gets to decide who knows. My feelings about it don't matter. It's not my choice. It's Pete's."

Dana: "Vampires get the same luxury as your brother." Tolvin rubbed the back of Oliver's neck and sighed. What a perfect way to decompress.

"Then stay in the dark."

Luke: "I don't wanna talk about vampires or Pete's closet skeletons."

Dana: "Why?"

Luke: "Because we only have a few minutes until we get to Oliver's house."

Dana: "Then what do you want to talk about?"

Luke: "How this all works. After you leave him, how much energy are you going to have?"

Dana: "Minutes, perhaps an hour on your own. I don't know. I will be watching Oliver. I'll be on the other side. I'll still be with you."

Luke: Luke nodded. Speaking of Oliver, "Is he in denial or does he finally accept you're real?"

Dana: "He was raised Christian. Believed until recently. He argues with himself over his Arminianistic upbringing. He's accepting me as a parasite. An Australian parasite," he smirked.

Luke: "If he was raised Christian he should be superstitious. Denial must run deep if he can write off a spirit as a parasite."

Dana: "Don't be surprised. That's the purpose of the fog. Those that believe are labeled with mental illness."

Luke: "What's this fog you keep mentioning?"

Dana: "The denial humans create when faced with things like me. You experienced it, too. Most unusual creatures have a variation of it. Keeps humans in check."

Luke: "Is it ordinary denial or a special kind of denial?"

Dana: "Special," he scoffed.

Luke: "Will it ever completely lift?"

Dana: "Mhm. Takes patience."

Luke: Luke nodded. "If the fog lifts for spirits, will it lift for other things? Like, is it across the board?"

Dana: "Experience plays a very large role. I would assume so."

Luke: Another nod. Despite everything that had transpired between them, he wanted Oliver to be okay mentally.

"This a hell of a situation we're in," he sighed.

Dana: "It doesn't have to be," said Tolvin quietly.

Luke: "Just going to take some patience, right? Patience and time."

Dana: "I hardly abode patience before. What I meant was I don't have to be here. You can denounce me."

Luke: "Out of the question," Luke said without hesitation.

Dana: "That was instinctive."

Luke: "Out of the question. Don't ever say that again."

Dana: "You're overwhelmed."

Luke: "We had an intense night."

Dana: "Every night will be."

Luke: "Not necessarily. This will get easier." Right? his eyes asked.

Dana: "... We'll see. What are you going to tell your brother when he interrogates you?"

Luke: Luke took a deep breath. "That Oliver is a friend and I'm helping him out." Not the most elegant explanation but the most believable."

Dana: "And you slept in the same bedroom."

Luke: "He's slept in the same room as his friend. He won't think that's weird."

Dana: "He probably knows something's amiss."

Luke: "Yeah. I'm hoping he's just curious about me calling out of nowhere."

Dana: "Do you want me to hear?"

Luke: "I don't mind if you do. Just don't take anything personally, okay?"

Dana: "What's that mean?"

Luke: "Anything Pete says. Told you, he doesn't pull his punches."

Dana: "So long as he doesn't degrade you."

Luke: "He wouldn't. He's not a cruel man, just a protective one."

Dana: The trailer park entrance slowly came into view. This was it. The last stretch of road before disembarking.

"We'll see."

Luke: "Yeah. We'll see."

...Fuck it. He was about to go back to not being able to hold or see or kiss Dana for who knew how long. He had to get it all in now.

He took Dana's hand and squeezed.

Dana: His laughter had always been deep, but nothing compared to Oliver's voice. Like a near bottomless pit, scratched from years of military discipline.

Luke: Luke smiled, not letting go. "What's so funny, huh?"

Dana: "I didn't do this much in life."

Luke: "Hold hands, you mean?"

Dana: "I think once with my daughter's mother."

Luke: "Just once? Really?"

Dana: "While we slept."

Luke: "That's a nice moment to have had with her."

Dana: "We fought the next day. Moments don't make a relationship."

... He kissed Luke's hand. Quickly.

Luke: Luke smiled again. "Maybe not," he said softly. "But they do a hell of a lot."

Dana: Tolvin felt for Oliver's keys and opened the front door. Humphreys rushed down the tattered steps and towards the woods to sniff.

The trailer park stunk of burnt wood, alcohol, and motor oil. The party had run late.

Luke: Luke looked around the park to give himself something to do. He was starting to feel anxious, and he didn't know whether it was anticipation over what was to come or something else.

"Should I go before you leave him? Is he awake?"

Dana: "It's best you do." Though if Luke will listen he wasn't sure. Oliver could take the day off and stick a needle in his arm, snort something, whatever. In the same instance, Luke would want to check on his well-being.

"Bring the dog inside." The weight of the body had grown exponentially. He had to force himself towards the bedroom. The stench of beer cans and marijuana hit him like a weak slap. He collapsed on the bed, attempted to kick off the host's black boots.

Luke: He nodded. He'd suspected as much. There was a decent possibility Oliver would decide to throw things at him over last night's episode.

After making sure Humphreys did his business Luke ushered him back inside, filled his bowl and his water quickly so he could go into the bedroom and get a few more parting moments with Dana.

"Here, let me," he said softly, helping Dana ease the boots off before bending to place a kiss to his cheek. "I love you."

Dana: "You're a gentle soul," he whispered, pulling the human closer to his chest. The bed stunk with age. The sheets and pillow cases - no, everything needed to be changed.

"Love you."

Luke: Luke was quick to nuzzle in, trying his best to savor the affection while he still could and not think about the lack of it that was coming his way. Dana was given another kiss, then two. "I love you so much, Dana."

Dana: "Fair dinkum," he smiled.

Luke: There, a smile. "You and your foreign lingo." One more kiss. "I'll see you, okay? I'm going to go get his truck. Rest."

Dana: This was their physical goodbye. He couldn't take his eyes off of Luke.

"I'll see you soon."

Luke: Nor could Luke stop kissing him. "Yes you will. Very soon."

Dana: "Get a headstart, before I close my eyes."

Luke: "Okay." Just one more kiss, one more I love you, and off he went to get Oliver's truck.

Dana: He waited for the door to shut, for the footsteps to fade. The count of one hundred, eyes closed, the body's chest sank with expelled air. More than an out-of-body experience, Tolvin began to pace the length of the trailer, ticking off every imperfection, avoiding thoughts of the woman on the other side of town. The woman he had helped raise.

Logan: That woman was currently in the process of starting her day. There was no work at the church today, but there was still work. The cabin was crying out for a clean, as was the truck. Laundry needed doing, a cake needed making for a party later on today.

And of course, prayers for Dana Tolvin needed to be prayed.

But first, her usual good morning text to Luke.

{Text} Don't forget to eat breakfast!

#Angel Rules chapter #lukebgraham #danatolvin #olivercole #loganriley

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