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seanfalco · 1 year

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Keep Y’Warm

Nathan Young x f!Reader

Word Count: 1.3k Tags/Warnings: flirting, suggestive themes, pretty tame really Prompt: I decided to participate in @/yearoftheotpevent‘s Year of the OTP (except using reader inserts). For January’s prompt I chose ‘Snow’. a/n: Struggled with breaking out of some writer’s block, so I’m not sure how I feel about this one, but I’m glad I finished something.

“I can’t believe they’re makin’ us do our community service outside in this weather,” Nathan whined, half heartedly scraping his snow shovel through the wet slush that covered the sidewalk in front of the Community Centre. “Look, my trainers are already soaked through!” he cried, lifting a wet sneakered foot as evidence. “I can barely feel my toes!”

“Maybe you should’ve worn more weather appropriate attire,” Shaun drawled indifferently as he passed, a steaming cup of coffee in hand.

“Well maybe some of us don’t have weather appropriate attire!” Nathan countered, sneering at the back of the probation worker’s head.

Shaun paused as he opened the door. “That’s not my problem,” he shrugged, sparing a dry look for Nathan before pushing the door open with his shoulder and heading back into the warmth inside.

An incredulous scoff left Nathan’s mouth as he gaped after the man. “Fuckin’ prick!” he muttered, crouching down to grab a handful of wet snow and flinging it against the window in harmless retaliation.

“At least y’have a coat,” you muttered, huddling further in on yourself against the cold to keep your teeth from chattering. The thin long sleeved shirt you had on under your jumpsuit did little to protect from the icy wind that cut through you and threw heavy wet snowflakes in your face.

Nathan looked over at you, a frown pinching his brows. “Don’t’cha have one?”

“I do, but I left it at my stepmum’s. I didn’t think I’d need it yet,” you grumbled, blowing on your frozen hands in an attempt to thaw them somewhat.

Nathan’s frown deepened in thought for a moment. “C’mere,” he exclaimed, unzipping his coat.

At first you thought he was gunna offer it to you and you were about to protest, not wanting him to freeze either, until it became apparent he had something else in mind, holding his coat open for you and beckoning you over.

“Get in here.”

“I don’t think we’re both gunna fit,” you snorted, looking at him doubtfully.

“Will yeh shut it and just get over here? I’m losin’ th’rest of my body heat!”

Heaving a fond sigh, you did as he asked and moved closer, letting him wrap his arms and the sides of his coat around you. Almost instantly you felt warmth seep into you and you pressed your face against his chest, trying to get as close as possible. “Better?” Nathan asked, pulling back to get a look at you, a goofy grin on his face. “Yeah actually,” you replied, distracted by the snowflakes caught in his long lashes and the faint smell of his body spray. “Ugh, get a room,” Kelly muttered, rolling her eyes. “C’mon, let’s just get this done!” Alisha whined, interrupting the moment.

“Yeah, th’faster we get this done, th’sooner we get t’go back inside,” Curtis added, attacking the pile of snow in front of him with renewed vigour.

Instead of freeing you, Nathan simply picked up his snow shovel and shrugged. “This might be a bit awkward, but at least we’ll be warm,” he chuckled, his breath fanning warmly against your cheek. “I’m not lettin’ y’freeze on my watch,” he exclaimed, and you shuffled backwards as he attempted to continue clearing the sidewalk, smiling to yourself.

With every movement, however, you were reminded of just how close you were, hyper aware of his body pressed up against yours.

“Nathan!” Kelly groaned, her expression contorting in disgust as she passed, clearly overhearing his thoughts. “You’re disgustin’!”

“What? I can’t help it!” he laughed, carefully avoiding your curious look.

By the time the walk was clear–no thanks to you and Nathan, who mostly goofed off–and Simon had spread a layer of salt down, your cheeks and nose were flushed from the cold, and even Nathan’s coat wasn’t doing much to protect you any longer.

“C’mon, let’s get back inside,” you exclaimed impatiently, wriggling your toes uselessly in your sneakers.

“Don’t hafta tell me twice,” Nathan huffed, finally freeing you from his jacket and you all hurried inside to warm up.

Hastily toeing off your wet trainers as soon as you hit the locker room, you shucked your jumpsuit and hung it in your locker to let the sopping legs drip dry while Nathan plopped down on the locker room floor to pull his shoes off.

“I think there’s somethin’ wrong with my toes!” he cried, stripping his soaked socks off. “Look they’re turnin’ white and I can’t feel ‘em!”

“Sounds like th’beginning stage of frostbite,” Simon observed, leaning over from his locker to get a better look.

“Frost bite!?” Nathan yelped, his head whipping up frantically. “Are my toes gunna fall off?” he cried, gesturing wildly toward his bare feet.

“They might,” Simon murmured, wearing a tiny mischievous grin.

“Not if we get them thawed out,” you interjected quickly, throwing Simon a dirty look as you passed him, grabbing Nathan by the arm and hauling him to his feet. “C’mon,” you urged, dragging him to one of the shower stalls across the room and yanking the curtain shut behind you.

“Get th’hot water on!” Nathan whined, twisting the faucet handle all the way to hot.

“No, wait!” you yelped, smacking his hand way to dial it back. “We only want luke warm.”

“But I’m freezin’!” Nathan countered, pouting at you as the water spluttered on.

“If you go to hot too fast, you’ll scald yourself and not even feel it,” you explained.

Nathan frowned, taking your words in with a grain of skepticism. “Alright, fine!” he finally cried, unzipping his coveralls.

“Here lemme help y’with that,” you murmured, reaching out to grab hold of his arms to stabilize him as he shrugged out of the top half of his jumpsuit.

“Your hands are like ice!” he yelped and you couldn’t help but snort in amusement.

“Yeah, no shit! I’m just as cold as you are!” you countered, reaching out to feel the temperature of the water. “Okay, I think that’s good t’thaw out with and then we can crank up th’heat some more,” you murmured.

Nathan nodded, shedding the orange jumpsuit completely and sticking his feet under the stream of warmish water. “I’m never opposed t’turnin’ up th’heat,” he joked, giving you a cheeky grin.

“You’re such a flirt,” you chuckled, shaking your head ruefully before stripping the rest of your undergarments off while Nathan’s back was turned.

After a few minutes, his feet seemed to return to a normal pinkish colour, but when he turned to tell you he could feel his toes again, his gaze fell to your bare chest and the words died on his tongue.

“Well, hello there! If it isn’t my favourite girls! When did this happen?” he asked, unable to tear his eyes away as he pulled you into his arms.

Grinning, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as the water rolled over you, pressing your chest against his, just as you had earlier when he’d wrapped you in his coat, except now there were considerably fewer layers between you.

“Wanna tell me what you were thinkin’ bout earlier that Kelly overheard?” you asked, glancing up at him, the water plastering his curls to his head.

Nathan’s chapped lips pulled into a smirk at the thought and he shifted against you, his cock slowly stirring in response, pressing against your hip. “It had somethin’ t’do with wishin’ we were wearin’ less…” he replied, his gaze flicking over your face. “Kinda like we are right now.”

“Look’s like y’got your wish,” you murmured, arousal tingling through you to pool low in your gut and between your legs.

“Will y’look at that,” Nathan teased lightly, though his voice had turned husky. “Would y’like t’know what else I was thinkin’ about?” he asked, dangling the implication tantalizingly before you, his chest rising and falling against yours with each breath he took waiting for your answer while the water trickled down your bodies, warm seeping into you.

“I think I’d rather you show me.”

@super-unpredictable98 @salvador-daley @elliethesuperfruitlover @firstpersonnarrator

#misfits #nathan young #nathan young x reader #misfits fic #robert sheehan character fic #joz.fic #year of the otp 2023

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scottxlogan · 5 months

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This story was written for the @yearoftheotpevent

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Loki (TV 2021) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark Characters: Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes, Loki (Marvel), Kang the Conqueror | Nathaniel Richards Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Swearing, Idiots in Love, Past Abuse, Two timelines, Age Difference, Beginnings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Adult Content

Summary: In 1989 Tony Stark is convinced that he's found his soulmate in the man who rescued him at a low point in his life. From their first meeting sparks flew, but there's a part of Tony that's seeking out even more from his new roommate. Will Tony be able to convince Bucky to take things to the next level between them.

After a year of ups and downs Bucky and Tony's story comes full circle as we travel back to the beginning to see where it all started before finding our way to the present where things reach the dramatic conclusion. Will Bucky, Tony and their friends find their way to happily ever after or crash and burn when the enemy's plans come full circle?

#winteriron #tony stark #bucky barnes #iron man #winter soldier #winteriron fic #starkbucks #year of the otp #year of the otp 2023

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pbchocmint · 7 months

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✨⭐️ Starry-eyed steddie ⭐️✨

@yearoftheotpevent July (I’m so behind lmao) prompt: star

#st #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #my art #my st art #steddie fanart #st fanart #digital art #lyrics from star by mitski #the lyrics overall aren’t that fitting for them except maybe in an AU but it fit the prompt and I love mitski #also I haven’t drawn much in so long 😭😭#year of the otp #year of the otp 2023 #yotp #yotp 2023

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oprescuewagon · 10 months

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Year of the OTP submission for July ‘vacation together’

Beach babes and they know it

#kakashi #kakashi hakate #tenzo #yamato #kakayama #naruto #kakashi x tenzo #captain yamato #dog teeth kakashi #hokage hatake kakashi #Kakashi is wearing Green for tenzo #and tenzo is wearing a pair of kk shorts #idiots in love #year of the otp event #year of the otp 2023

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sofya-creations · 1 year

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Happy Valentine’s Day!

Anthony and Kate from Bridgerton for my Year of the OTP 2023 contribution for the prompt : "If i kiss you, will you shut up?".

@yearoftheotpevent

#YEAR OF THE OTP #Year of the OTP 2023 #Bridgerton #kathony #kanthony #anthony x kate #anthony bridgerton #jonathan bailey #kate sharma #kate sheffield #simone ashley #Fanart

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downton-bridgerton · 5 months

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Anyway, late once again. And I'm tired at this point of publishing this. But I enjoy this challenge!

I WILL SKIP NOVEMBER tho. Because I have a lot in my hand and I don't have any much ideas for the November prompts, so yes. Will be skipping that month.

Anyway, here's for @yearoftheotpevent for October. This previous month's prompt: Text Messaging!

FF.Net's link is here!

#i hate myself and my cringey ass #anyway: enjoy :))#cora crawley #robert crawley #cobert #downton abbey fanfiction #downton abbey #year of the otp #year of the otp challenge #year of the otp 2023 #*my drabbles and writing #my post

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heronchild-haven · 6 months

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Sunshine in your smile

A Heronchild poem written from James' point of view.

-> for the @yearoftheotpevent May prompt ‘Sunshine’

-> read below or on AO3

Sunshine in your smile hair like gold so bright To be under your gaze is to be touched by rays of warmth and light I know that I‘d presume in pride, for all you are so fair and fleeting as the hours of day to ever think you mine Too often now I find myself the devils own device, in shadows wreathed on blackened shores and under starless skies But always it is you who finds me in my night The one whose touch does still cut through to pull me back into the light Yet as of late it seems your shine is clouded, your gemstone eyes in grief so deep are shrouded I know you fear to burn too hot if looked upon to blind I care not whom you think you wronged or what you seek to hide: You cannot parch my skin nor scorch my eyes To cancel out the light within will ever be enough no darkness and no sin

#hiii #I’m still alive #and I actually finished a wip :)))#heronchild #james herondale #matthew fairchild #my writing #fanfic #poetry #parabatai #year of the otp 2023

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riddikuluspuff · 11 months

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one shot: just say yes

♢ just say yes

written for @yearoftheotpevent

june prompt(s): wedding/proposal

relationship: Draco Malfoy x Hermione Granger

rating: mature

synopsis: It was the announcement of the season. The happiness that wavered throughout the Wizarding World rippled every single person that waited for an announcement like this to appear in the newspapers and be whispered among gossipers in Diagon Alley. Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were engaged to marry. The big Malfoy wedding has been scheduled for the springtime in the Malfoy Manor gardens. The event is deemed to be planned by the groom's mother, Narcissa Malfoy, and the couple's best friend, Pansy Parkinson-Longbottom. Everything will be discussed in this newspaper, and this reporter will be following everything about this Malfoy wedding. So, be sure to constantly check out what The Daily Prophet reports on the events following the soon-to-be Mr and Mrs Draco Malfoy.

word count: 4.1k

! ON AO3 !

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sofya-fanfics · 5 months

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Their Secret Relationship

Fandom : Fairy Tail

Relationship : Gajeel x Levy, Nastu x Juvia

My Year of the OTP 2023 contribution for the prompt : secret relationship (reveal).

I’m sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language. I hope you like it.

Summary : Levy looked at Natsu and Juvia. That’s strange, she thought, how long had they been friends ? Of course, Juvia was close to everyone at the guild and Natsu would do anything for its members, who were family to him. However, Levy did not remember ever seeing them talk together, much less have lunch.

Disclaimer : Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima.

@yearoftheotpevent

AO3 / FF.NET

Levy looked at Natsu and Juvia. That’s strange, she thought, how long had they been friends ? Of course, Juvia was close to everyone at the guild and Natsu would do anything for its members, who were family to him. However, Levy did not remember ever seeing them talk together, much less have lunch.

It was noon and most of the Fairy Tail members were having lunch at the guild. Levy was waiting for Gajeel. Natsu, Juvia and Happy were a few tables away from hers. Therefore, she had the opportunity to watch them. Usually, Natsu and Happy would have lunch together or with other members of their team, especially Lucy. And if Juvia did not have lunch with her or Gajeel, she spent most of her time with Cana and Lisanna. Something is going on, Levy was sure of it.

“What are you looking at ?”

Levy jumped. She was so focused on watching Natsu and Juvia that she did not notice Gajeel and Panther Lily approaching. Gajeel was behind her. He leaned over her to look in the same direction as her. Panther Lily was on his shoulder.

“Do you know how long they’ve been friends ?” Levy asked.

“Natsu and Juvia ? They are not friends.”

Gajeell straightened up and sat across from her, preventing her to see the dragon slayer and water mage table. As for Panther Lily, he sat at the other end of the table.

“Happy told me they were hired for a mission a month or two ago,” the Exceed said. “They must have gotten closer at this point.”

Levy frowned. She felt there was something else.

******

A few days later, Levy and Juvia were in a children's clothing store. Levy was four months pregnant and Juvia wanted to take her shopping for her future child.

“It’s never too early to prepare,” Juvia had told her.

Levy had to admit that she was right and everything she saw in this store made her happy.

“Look what Juvia found.”

She showed her a little yellow onesie with a smiling sun sewn on the front.

“Juvia knows what she’s going to get you.”

“You do not have to.”

Juvia shook her head and smiled at her.

“That makes Juvia happy.”

She walked over to the cash register to pay for the onesie. Levy could not help smiling. As soon as she knew she was pregnant, Juvia proclaimed herself aunt of her future child.

“Gajeel was my only family for years,” she had told her. “So it’s normal that I’m there for you when you need it.”

Levy was lucky to have someone like Juvia in her life. She looked out the window and she saw Natsu and Happy walking on the street. Natsu carried his backpack, like when he went on a mission. Juvia approached, holding a bag containing the onesie.

“What's the matter ?” she asked.

“It looks like Natsu is going to leave the city.”

“He goes on a mission for two days.”

“How do you know ?”

“He told Juvia about it yesterday.”

Levy looked at her, surprised. She thought back to when she had seen them having lunch together a few days ago. Which meant they had seen each other again.

“You spend a lot of time together.”

Juvia looked away and Levy frowned.

“Not so much, Juvia ran into him by chance.”

“Lily told me you went on a mission together.”

Juvia nodded and walked towards a table where different items were placed.

“Look at these bootees. It’s so cute.”

Levy knew she was trying to change the conversation. There was something going on between Juvia and Natsu, she was sure of it. But she would not say anything. If Juvia did not want to talk about it, Levy would not press her.

******

“I'm sure they're in a relationship,” Levy said, giving a screwdriver to Gajeel.

“Who ?” He answered, taking the screwdriver.

They were in the bedroom they were converting for their child and Gajeel was putting the crib together.

“Juvia and Natsu.”

“What are you talking about ?”

“Haven't you seen how they behave, the way they look at each other ? And I often saw them together.”

“You imagine things. Juvia never paid attention to Natsu.”

“Things change. Especially after what happened with Gray.”

Gajeel groaned. Everyone in the guild knew about Juvia's feelings for Gray. Unfortunately, he did not feel the same. Juvia had overheard a conversation between Gray and Erza, where he told her that he was not in love with Juvia and that he would never be. When he realized that she had heard him, he apologized, telling her that he did not want her to find out like that. Juvia had not blamed him, but she had been heartbroken. Gajeel, on the other hand, still had not forgiven Gray for hurting Juvia.

As for Natsu, Levy suspected that he was in love with Lucy. But she never realized it and when she was in a relationship, Levy saw sadness in Natsu's eyes.

“I think she might be happy with Ntsu.”

“With that idiot ? He's even dumber than Gray.”

Levy lightly hit his arm. Yet, she could not get the idea out of her head. And if they really were a couple, she would be happy for her two friends.

******

Three months had passed. The first snowflakes of winter had replaced the red leaves of autumn. Levy was seven months pregnant with twins. She still had a hard time believing it. It was both wonderful and frightening. But she knew everything was going to be okay with Gajeel by her side.

Night had fallen. They were coming home. In the distance, Levy saw Juvia and Natsu. They were smiling at each other and they were close, very close. So close that Levy thought for a moment they were going to kiss. She suddenly stopped walking.

“Is Everything all right ?” Gajeel asked, worried.

Levy nodded and pointed at Juvia and Natsu who had moved away from each other.

“Look.”

Gajeel stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

“You’re at it again.”

Levit pouted. Gajeel did not believe her when she told him that Natsu and Juvia were a couple. Each time, he told her that she had too much imagination. And Levy had no proof for what she was saying. Just her instinct.

Without thinking about what she was doing, she approached Natsu and Juvia. She heard Gajeel calling her, but she did not stop. Her friends did not see her arriving and they kissed.

“I knew it !” Levy cried out.

Natsu and Juvia jumped and moved away from each other.

“I can’t believe it, you were right,” Gajeel said, opening his eyes wide.

The dragon slayer and the water mage blushed and exchanged a look.

“Why didn’t you tell me ?” Gajeel asked Juvia.

She looked at Gajeel guiltily.

“Juvia’s sorry. She wanted to tell you, but...”

She looked at Natsu, as if she was searching for help and comfort. Levy could see how bad she felt for lying to them. Especially to Gajeel.

“We wanted to keep our story to ourselves. Without anyone getting involved or judging us.”

“And after what happened with Gray-san, Juvia was worried about what you would think. Do you forgive us ?”

Gajeel sighed.

“Are you happy ?”

“Juvia is very happy.”

“So that's all that matters. Even if it's with this idiot.”

“Hey !” Natsu cried out.

He glared at him, annoyed. Levy laughed lightly at his reaction. She approached Juvia and took her in her arms.

“I'm happy for you.”

Juvia smiled and put her arms around Levy. Even if Natsu and Juvia were different, she knew they would be happy together. And no matter how anyone would react when they would learn of their relationship, she would be there to support them.

The end

#year of the otp #year of the otp 2023 #fairy tail #navia #natsu x juvia #gajevy #gajeel x levy #levy mcgarden #gajeel redfox #juvia lockser #natsu dragneel #navia fanfiction #fairy tail fanfiction #fanfiction #my writing

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fanarts-manga · 10 months

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Ranma and Akane from Ranma 1/2 for my Year of the OTP 2023 contribution for the prompt : Vacation together.

@yearoftheotpevent

#year of the otp #year of the otp 2023 #ranma 1/2 #rankane #ranma x akane #ranma saotome #akane tendo #fanart #my fanart

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scottxlogan · 4 months

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Posting the final chapter for the @yearoftheotpevent. This story was another HUGE one for me as it carried over the length of the last 12 months with installments each month. Some as one shots and others as multi-chapter stories all following the larger theme that was going here. This project was a huge labor of love for me and one that I was determined to see from beginning to end. It had so much in it that I’m very proud of this work as it was truly a year of new beginnings and adventures. Thank you to everyone who joined me on this ride as this was a massive endeavor for me!

Chapters: 10/10 Fandom: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Loki (TV 2021) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Loki/James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Howard Stark/Maria Stark Characters: Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes, Loki (Marvel), Kang the Conqueror | Nathaniel Richards, Howard Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Maria Stark, Obadiah Stane, Logan (X-Men), Peggy Carter, Thor (Marvel), Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Emma Frost, Happy Hogan, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Michelle Jones (Marvel), Peter Parker, Tiberius Stone, Stephen Strange, Sylvie (Loki TV), Pepper Potts, Mobius M. Mobius Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Swearing, Idiots in Love, Past Abuse, Two timelines, Age Difference, Beginnings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Adult Content, First Time, Holidays, Falling In Love, Holiday Decorations, Dessert, Not Peggy Carter Friendly, Period-Typical Homophobia, Group Kissing, Dirty Dancing, flirtations, past Obadiah Stane/Maria Stark, Menacing Behavior, Flirting, Canon-Typical Violence, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kidnapping, Angst, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Minor Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, TVA | Time Variance Authority (Marvel), Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending Series: Part 12 of The First Time: WinterIron Year of the OTP 2023 Series

Chapter Summary: One year after facing down the enemy, the team comes together in celebration of Loki and Rhodey's newfound life together. Along the way the team experiences the joys of what the new future can hold for them with Bucky and Tony hosting the grand event. As the party unfolds, the team shares in heartfelt moments and a possibility for what's ahead moving forward.

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simon-x-billy · 6 months

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Simon x Billy

Year of the OTP: October

Chapter 10: Attack of the tiny flying human

Prompt: Text messaging

AN: While Billy is sleeping off his drowned sorrows in his time zone, Simon has time traveled back 6 hours, to Brooklyn. He gets to live the same 6 hours twice. That’s just how it works. So sci-fi. He has been summoned (peer pressured) back to Brooklyn by his agent for a terribly important meeting requiring a suit. That’s all he knows about it: Wear a suit. Done. He’s wearing a suit. He’s never even seen Johnny in a suit, let alone wearing one with him. It’s this morning all over again, and it’s official. Italians do coffee better. NSFW TW: Finally back to the sexytimes! But first, lots of talking and saying stuff and things. Fair warning: There’s no Clary irl, but there is a Chase. Masterlist || ao3 || start || prev || next

————/Simon/————

“Simon, I don’t like that Johnny.”

“I know, Ma.”

“He looks like a sheister, that boy. He does not have a trustworthy face. No. He does not.”

“I know, Ma.”

“Well if you know, Simon, why don’t you go find a more trustworthy-looking agent?”

“Ok, Ma. Where are the Eggos?”

“Pish. Why am I stocking Eggos when you’re not living here anymore? Go stock ‘em for yourself over at that schmancy apartment of yours.”

“Ok, Ma. You’re right.”

She’s turned her ‘you don’t have a trustworthy face’ face on me.

“What, Ma. What? Please stop giving me the stink eye. It’s scary looking and definitely unfriendly.”

“You want I should be your friend now.”

I search madly for the right answer to that question.

“You want I should go to Katz’s? Yonah Schimmel? No! Wait! Ma, I will buy you an island if you make your matzoh ball soup.”

I am a genius.

Katz’s. Yonah Schimmel is next door. Pic mine.

That should keep her busy for well over 24 hours. It takes time to boil a chicken down to nothing but golden goodness. As Grandma used to say, “It took a day to build Rome, it takes more than that to make chicken soup.”

That should keep her happy and friendly for at least as many days as the soup lasts, and then some. And it’ll give me some fat to run off. Sometimes I don’t eat enough to sate the running addiction. It is what it is.

From the kitchen I hear Ma shout “But I do like his red hair!”

————/-/————

“Simon!!!” It’s practically a screech. The next thing I know, I’ve been attacked by a tiny flying human. I don’t know if there’s such a thing as a flying hug. Kind of like a cannonball into a pool, but aimed at me and not at a pool. Whatever it is, there are limbs everywhere, long hair in my mouth, and not a fraction of an inch of her touching the ground. I figure I’ll just leave the untangling up to her, for fear of touching places it would not be good to touch. This is all on her to unravel. She slides easily to the ground outside Java Jones.

Lily. That’s who.

“Look at you! Why are you all handsome and fresh-looking?” She looks at me suspiciously. Because apparently this is suspicious. And I now worry that I’ve never been handsome and fresh before.

“Nevermind,” she immediately interrupts herself, holding me at arm’s length. “Look at you! You’re all tanned and weirdly healthy. I’m dazzled by the sun dripping off you.” She sniffs. “Why do you smell so good? Are you wearing cologne?! I’m concerned.” Her eyes narrow. “Who are you and what have you done with my sweet vampire Simon? Why are you like this and what are we doing tonight?”

All of this delivered with coquettish little grins and winks sprinkled here and there.

“Stop flirting with me, vile creature.”

She growls and mock-punches me in the arm. “What the fuck, Simon! Where have you been? Clearly somewhere sunnier than Brooklyn. And this is not a tan you get in the Hamptons.”

I can’t help it, I just can’t be mad at this compact little flying ball of limbs. The girl three years younger than I am, that I think of as my little sister, yeah, her. I can’t be mad. She’s just too excited to see me. Genuinely happy to see me. Ugh, now I’m genuinely happy to see her, too.

“So? Are you going to tell me anything? Why do you look like a golden god, sitting here in this dingy hole of the pallid and caffeine-deprived?”

“Italy.” Am I grinning? I think I might be grinning.

“Grinning like the Cheshire Cat.”

“Did you hear the part about Italy?”

“Italy?!?!” She says with overly dramatized shock

Now this one definitely went to theatre school.

I know this to be true, not only because she’s dramatic — convincingly dramatic — but also because it’s where I met her. So I know from firsthand experience that she has a finely tuned host of expressions, reactions, etc to draw from. It’s called sense-memory. Dude, we’re from NY. Theatre camp might just have been with the Actors Studio, or it might not. We might have been mini Method Actors, we might not.

And this face? This face is pure goofball, all the way. She comes by it naturally.

“No, but seriously, Italy?” she asks.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about moving there.”

Lily spews cappuccino froth everywhere.

“Hang on, I got it.” I'm instantly springing for the counter in search of a cloth. Or even a stack of mini napkins? Please? I leave Lily holding her shirt away from her skin. The cappuccino is still hot enough that her shirt is now steaming. Ow.

It’s only as we’re dealing — successfully — with the aftermath, that I finally have a moment to recall what I said, just moments before The Great Cappuccino Incident of 2015.

I’m thinking about moving there.

I didn’t even know that’s how I felt until it flew out of my mouth.

I think I want to move to Italy.

Yep, still true, even after repetition.

“You want to what?” she asks, attention fully on me and not her shirt.

“I think I’m going to move to Italy.” Hm. My mouth just made up my mind for me.

When I’ve had something fly out of my mouth in the past, my mouth has turned out to be trustworthy and wise about 90% of the time. It’s not a perfect science. But what I will say is that my mouth speaking from my gut is not as gross as it sounds. I’ve learned to trust my gut-mouth. It tells me what I don’t realize I already know. And suddenly I have complete clarity. I’m moving to Italy.

!fuckyeahmovingtoitaly!!!!sddssaasblergjkl!

“Why???” she asks. I can hear all the question marks.

“I’m feeling…………things there.”

“You’re feeling things there,” she parrots back at me. “Like what?” she asks with mirth. She’s feeling mirthy.

“Well, for one, I feel more creative than I have since the day I started flogging myself with a blinking cursor on a blank white page, entitled Book 4 pg 1.”

“Writer’s blo-“

“Don’t say it! You’ll jinx me!” Look, Jewish mysticism is alive and kicking in Brooklyn. “Quick, spit on the evil eye!” I order her. It’s the least she could do!

“Don’t worry, Si. You’ll conqu-“

“Stop jinxing me! What, are you trying to ruin my life? Seriously! Anyway, I think Italy might help with that thing we’re not allowed to say out loud, knock on wood.”

Lily is staring at me. Well, no, not staring so much as assessing. “You’re different, Si. And it’s not just the tan. Your eyes are brighter. Sparklier.”

“Ew.”

She smacks my arm.

I look at her and my insides turn to mush. “You, Lily, are a mensch.” Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“What have I done to deserve your highest praise?”

“You haven’t done anything specific, and that’s part of the point. You, Lily, are a good human being. If it was just a one-time thing, I’d find a different compliment. But this is just an observation. You are a good human person.”

To my surprise, her eyes well up. “Hey, you ok?” I take her hand in mine and give it a warm squeeze. “Hey,” I squeeze again.

“Oh, nothing,” she says, rolling her eyes, but I can tell it’s not even remotely ‘nothing’ by the simple fact that she’s sniffling and her eyes look even more watery.

“Nothing’s wrong, Simon, I promise.”

“Happy tears, then? Did you get into Juilliard?”

“I wish! And anyways, I’m at Tisch.”

“Not too shabby!”

“You bet your frickin ass! There is no shab!”

“Mazel tov, Lily. Stand up and hug me,” I order her. And she does. But she’s sniffling and watery again. I have acquired a cappuccino shirt of my own. At least we’ll both smell alike, and cancel each other out.

I look at her appraisingly. (It’s her turn to be appraised.) “Something’s happened.”

She can’t stop the smile from exploding across her face. “Yes, something’s happened. But Chase made me promise that he’d be there when I told you.”

“Oh.”

Look, I know it’s a shitty thing that my monosyllabic response fell like a lead weight at her feet. But seriously, it’s Chase who needs to know what he’s walking into. Lily can either warn him or not. She’s not his babysitter nor his gatekeeper. “Keymaster,” I sigh.

The only reason I’m pissed at him is that he blew me off for a year. He wasn’t there for me. A stranger from Italy is the only person who was there for me. Not Lily. Not even Ma, who decided being jealous of her son’s vacation was top of mind, rather than her son’s mental and emotional state. The more book sales you have, the less support from humans you need? Is that the logic?

Poor little rich boy. Broken by privilege. Ok, the self-loathing has started, and at this moment, it’s not all about me. It’s supposed to be about some big surprise and I need to respect that.

“Where is that melonfucker anyway?” I raise my voice a little louder, as a poetry slam has just begun. At least it’s not as bad as the one in the book.

“Melonfucker?” The way she says it, I can’t tell if she thinks I’m funny or a loser. You’d think those two expressions couldn’t mate on one face.

I probably could have worded that a little better. Anyways, “Don’t ask. It’s a thing now. Soon everyone will be saying it.”

“I like it. Better than motherfucker. I don’t want to think about fuckers of mothers,” she says with a squicked-out expression.

“But fucking melons is ok,” I laugh.

“Fuck melons, not mothers! T-shirt? Mug?” she suggests.

“I fucked melons way before melonfucking was a thing,” I declare.

“You did what now?” It’s that voice with that pretentious accent that I’ve known since we were 10. He moved here from London. Posh London, apparently, cuz I guess that’s a thing that exists. It wasn’t til he met me that he started not-hating living anywhere else. And not only was this not London, it was America of all places. Insults and injuries and all that.

I thought he was cool. He thought I was a dork. But a friendly dork.

I first laid eyes on him as he wrestled with the door of his locker, just a few down from mine. Then he showed up in my English class, and everybody laughed when he pointed out that English class should really be about learning to be English.

It’s a miracle and a mystery why the student body chose to think that was funny. If it’d been me pulling that gag, I’d have been bullied mercilessly. But not Chase. He has something in him that has always drawn people in. I’ve never been able to put my finger on it.

He discovered that I’m the bomb later that day in the lunchroom. (‘Hi, I’m Simon and you will shortly discover that I am the bomb, deal with it.’ That’s how my brain has chosen to remember it.)

I’d been behind him in the lunch line, and watched with fascination as every single thing about the situation confused him. He was bewildered from beginning to end. Only to be spat out the other side into a busy lunchroom social scene. The moment of destiny, when the new kid stands there holding his tray, blinking at the reality of not knowing a single person in an already well established social hierarchy he knew nothing about.

This was it. Do or die time. It’ll make or break a kid.

And this was where I got awesome.

I walked up and stood there next to him, both of us looking out at the room. It was just as he was about to ask what I was doing that I said, “Sit with me.” And then walked up the center aisle without checking to see if he’d followed. Because even at 10 I was painfully cool. I stopped at the usual table, next to the usual cast of characters, and asked Kevin to scooch down so both of us would fit.

Chase had, indeed, followed. So he sat down. I think I said something like, “Hey everybody this is…” and let him fill in the blank. “This is Chase. Chase, this is everybody.”

I always remember that day whenever I’m pissed at him. It sucks cuz then it gets hard to stay pissed at him.

Chase looks at me warily before he grabs my fist and pulls me into a tentative bro hug. “Hey, man.”

”I’m mad at you.”

“Yeah. I kinda got that,” he replies. “Babe, did you tell him yet?”

“Of course not Simon will you be my Man of Honor?” All of this comes out on a single breath and obviously without punctuation.

I can feel myself standing here blinking at them. Everything gets a little slo-mo. I swallow.

Lily flashes her ring, wiggling her fingers at me in excitement.

“Married?”

They both nod yes.

“I do! I mean, yes! I will!” I sweep the tiny human up into my arms and twirl her around once before holding her at arm’s length. “Mazel tov!” I hug her again, and then look to Chase. “I knew this day would come, but a father’s never prepared for the flood of emotions, is he.”

“Father?” asks Lily with an “Ew gross,” following shortly behind.

“You better treat my little girl right,” I adopt a Texan accent, “Or I’mma come after you, son.” I give him a nostril flare, because it feels right. “You hear me, son? That’s my little girl you’re marrying. And Daddy’s got a shotgun, son. Daddy’s got a shotgun alright.” All we’re missing is a spittoon.

“Simon, what are you doing?” Lily asks.

“You know very well what I’m doing.”

Both Chase and I speak at once. “Monologuing.” It’s a thing we do. We went to theatre school.

“I can’t believe you’re monologuing at a time like this!” She practically shouts at me.

“It’s what he does when he’s nervous,” says Chase. The man who’s known me better than anyone else since we were 10.

Ugh, I guess I better man up and give him a real hug. “Mazel tov, man.”

————/-/————

She can’t be serious. “You want me to what now?” She wants me to cosplay Book Simon for Comic Con. I feel sick.

“I just threw up a little in my mouth.”

“No, seriously, hear me out. ‘Simon is Simon!’” she says with finger quotes. “It’s your thing! It’s synergy,” she says with ever more enthusiasm.

Lily, picturing synergy

“You’re joking, right?” It’s Chase.

“Oh thank God,” I blow out a breath of relief. “I was literally about to die a thousand horrified deaths hearing you agree with her. Oh my God. I feel dizzy.”

“Shut up,” Lily grouses. She sticks her tongue out at us because adulting is hard.

“I can’t cosplay my own books, and you know this! That is the- I mean, why would you even-“ She’s shaking her head, indicating that she is stubbornly holding tight to her position. “OK, look,” I say, committed to explaining all the ways she is an insane person. “What would you be thinking if you went to a show, only to find the frontman wearing his own band’s t-shirt, from this year’s merch tables.”

Chase sucks in his breath and pulls back, as if I have particularly noxious farts. Big, juicy, gross ones.

And then Lily busts out with, “I’d think he was wearing an ironic t-shirt.”

Ooooo, well played, Lily. Nice save. But I’m still embarrassed for her. “I wouldn’t be able to look myself in the eye for years after cosplaying myself. I think I might literally throw up. So much.”

“What about the scene when you crawl out of the grave - that Simon,” she persists. “You could be all muddy and unrecognizable.”

“But I AM VAMPIRE HUNTER D! And anyway, I’m on a panel tomorrow. So I can’t show up unrecognizable from being covered in mud from my grave.”

Simon, picturing D

“On a panel?!” Chase exclaims. “You, Simon Lewis, on a panel. Facts? You’re on a panel?”

I nod.

“On a panel,” he reiterates for the purpose of clarity. “Why didn’t you lead with that?!”

“Yes, yes, and yes to however many questions - I lost count.”

“And he’s my Man of Honor. And,” she gets serious, “he’s moving to Italy.”

“What? Simon, what the fuck?” Chase is now pie-eyed.

“And he’s talking to someone.” She finally stops dropping bombs.

I groan, “Lily, I was trying to get to all of that. Just one at a time.”

“Stop right there. Both of you.” Chase is suddenly serious. “Simon?”

“Yes, Chase?”

“Talk. About Comic Con.”

Lily is unimpressed. “That’s where you landed? Of all those options. You want to hear about Comic Con.”

“Ok, Comic Con,” I acquiesce. “I’m on tomorrow at 11am, 1A18. They want me to talk about getting started at a young age. But after this morning’s meeting with Johnny, I’m beginning to think maybe that’s not what they’ll want to hear about at all.” I am internally happy dancing.

“Why - what’s that about?” Chase wants to know.

“Come to the panel and find out,” I challenge, barely concealing my glee.

They both look pained. Chase breaks the awkward with, “It’s a little late for tickets. We didn’t know if you’d want to go.”

“Why wouldn’t I have wanted to go?”

“For exactly the reason we were worried about you being mad at how long it’s been. Simon,” he raises an eyebrow. “You ‘later-bro’d me.”

I can’t decide if I’m feeling guilty for that. At all. Nope. Not feeling guilty.

“Kelly can get VIP Passes. Will you come?”

They look to each other for some silent communication. It appears to go a little like this:

“What do you think?” asks Lily’s raised eyebrows.

Chase’s squint answers, “I dunno.” He’s always had a hard time agreeing to do things without several days notice. It’s one of the things I changed about his character in the book. You can’t be a half-angel warrior without spontaneity.

Lily’s hopeful eyes and dimples scream back, “Please, please, please?”

Chase’s sigh is total capitulation. The tension in his shoulders lets go, telling me he’s in.

“Thanks, guys. I hadn’t realized how much I need you there for the announcement. It’s big, and I’m freaking out.”

Chase goes to speak but I cut him off. “Nope, not telling til tomorrow. Cuz for now, I have even bigger news. You tell him, Lily.”

“Which thing am I telling him? It’s all juicy. Like how you met someone and now you’re moving to Italy. Is that the part you mean?”

Chase is still communicating wordlessly. His eye roll says, “As if.”

“Dude, bro I-“ I begin, but Lily cuts me off.

“Did he just dude-bro you?” she asks Chase in alarm.

“Yes, Lily. Yes he did,” answers Chase, looking askance at me.

“Shut up. Whatever.” I wave the dude-bro away. Just tell them, Lewis. “So, I kinda met someone. Someone in Italy. Which is only partly responsible for me moving there.”

Chase finally seems to get it.

“You’re moving?” he asks, voice losing its bombast.

“To Italy,” Lily confirms.

“Uh, I guess, yeah, kind of? Yes, I’m moving to Italy,” I say with greater conviction and vehemence.

“Name, please.” Lily puts out her hand as if I’m expected to have a pocket full of gold to deposit there. But what she’s actually demanding is a different kind of currency. A name.

“Um, I don’t know. I can’t really- I mean I don’t really know what ‘we’ are, so-“

“Give us a bloody name, you wanker,” Chase pulls out the Britishisms. “Clearly it’s serious.”

Si, certo. “Billy.” It flows out of my mouth so naturally that I know I’m not wrong.

“Where did y-“ Chase begins.

“Sorrento. A hotel. Maybe you guys can come visit sometime?”

Again with the unspoken language of eyebrows and dimples.

“OK, sure, yeah. If we can.” He’s being noncommittal. Maybe they don’t get that I’d be buying the tickets. They’re pretty expensive and Lily and Chase are a few off-Broadway shows away from their big breaks, so they can’t exactly be buying airfare just because I tell them to.

“Good. Let me know when, so I can have Kelly do all the ticket stuff,” I clarify, but I can see Chase is already squirming. “She’s the only one who knows how life actually works. Like I guess that frequent flier miles are an actual thing that exists. Hypothetically speaking.”

“Oh!” Lily exclaims. “Frequent flyer miles? Cuz if that’s the case, I’m saying yes right now. Just to be clear.”

“Yeah, of course! Just let Kelly figure it out, once you know when would work, ok?” Suddenly I’m feeling brilliant. Their honeymoon. Oh my god I am so awesome. “Or, y’know, you could always do your honeymoon-“

“Done! Yes! Our honeymoon! Yes, please. Yes. Exactly! That’s exactly when we’re coming whether Chase likes it or not.” Lily is practically vibrating, and trying hard to keep herself tethered to the earth. She fails. She jumps up and down, clapping and giggling. I might have gotten that from her.

This kind of thing always makes Chase uncomfortable — the money talk. It always seems to make him itch. As if money talk gives him hives.

“Soooo, Billie? Who’s she?” he asks with renewed interest.

“Yeah! I want to know about Billie, Simon, spill,” she echoes.

Well, shit. This is awkward.

I take a deep breath, and wing it. “Um, yeah, so Billy’s a chef at the best hotel I’ve ever seen in my life. And you guys know what a book tour is like. So when I say I’m in love with a hotel…”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, you love the hotel. Next?” Lily dispenses with the superfluous information. “More about Billie. Feed us.”

“Reminds me — let me know as soon as you pick a date, so I can get you a reservation. As much advance notice as y-“

“Blah blah blah restaurant, hotel, blah blah Billie! More Billie!” she demands.

“Are you moving to Italy because of a girl?” Chase isn’t excited about this notion.

“A girl?” I suppose that the following is not technically a lie: “Nope. Not for a girl. And anyway, even if it was partly because I like somebody, it’s just as much about loving Italy. The Mediterranean.” (I don’t misspell it, cuz I don’t want to confuse them.) “The speed of life there. The priorities are different there. And anyway, I already bought a car there. That’s like one step away from applying for citizenship. I like to finish what I’ve started, y’know?”

“Funny,” says Chase without even a hint of a smile.

“Wait. Are you getting-“ I pull back, eyes theatrically squinty. “Lily? What is happening on Chase’s face? This is a new one, and I’m not embarrassed to admit it scares me. A little.”

“I’m not sure, actually,” she says, studying him. “It’s almost the way he looks when some guy is hitting on me.”

“Chase, are you jealous? Please say yes, please say yes,” I tease.

“I am not jealous! Why would I be jealous!” He’s beginning to shut down. Lily and I both know the signs, so we let it go.

“Billy is a chef from Ireland,” I begin, and Lily is already swooning. The accent. Guaranteed. “And I will not deny that the Irish thing does it for me.”

“Is she a redhead?” asks Lily.

“Not a fan of the gingers, me,” Chase reminds us. It was one of the things I enjoyed most about writing up his dream girl — giving her red hair. His face looked pinched from sucking lemons when he first read it.

“Moving on. So I haven’t made any calls or done anything about moving, yet. So I don’t know about timing or anything. But I’ll let you know when I do.”

“Billie, please. Less Italy, more Billie. We’re frickin hungry, so feed us already!” she demands.

“What’s her best quality?” Chase wants to know.

“Beauty, yeah of course, and specifically the insanely green eyes. But really? Billy thinks I’m funny. Like, actual laughing and not just laughing to be nice.”

Their faces tell me everything I need to know.

“You’re making her up,” Chase claims.

“Agreed, she doesn’t exist,” says Lily. “How could you lie to us — right to our faces?!”

“Facts! And actually kinda seems to care about me. Like for real and not just for imagination.”

“Why do you think she’s worth dropping everything to shack up with her?” Lily asks.

“Billy is a lot of things, Lily. And ‘worth it’ is definitely one of them. I’m actually kind of fucked up about it. It’s a connection. A weird and unexpected one. But it’s a connection and it might be the first real one I’ve had since I met you guys. Damn. That’s kinda heavy. Right?”

They both vigorously nod in agreement.

Did I just ask them to come visit me and my very masculine, male ‘friend’ Billy? I might be regretting that already. A lot. This represents the 10% success rate I mentioned earlier that differs from the 90% success rate of my gut-mouth.

————/-/————

“Simon?!” I hear pots and pans clang to the floor in the background.

“Billy? Are you ok?”

“Just-“ His voice sounds strained, like he’s stretching — likely because of the falling objects he’s trying to rescue. “One-“

I hear Italian in the background.

Was that Billy? Holy shit, I thought his Irish accent was hot. Wait. Now an older man’s voice in Italian is doing some kind of scolding.

“Si, normale, normale,” I hear Billy say, and I almost get chills. Then I do get chills cuz he’s saying, “Grazie, Vittorio. Grazie mille.” I want him to say that, but with my name in the middle, and directly into my ear. Low and private, so only I can hear.

At least I know enough to catch that he’s speaking with one of the owners of the hotel. The one who runs the kitchen. Head chef. Michelin stars and all that.

I’ve only gotten a handful of words, but god it’s good to hear Billy’s voice.

What the fuck is up with me? I am so completely beyond my comfort zone. Because only things that I know how to do are in my comfort zone. If I don’t know how to do something, how am I supposed to be comfortable? Whatever. Point is, I miss his-

“Simon? You still on? Simon?”

“Yeah! Yes. Hi. Yeah, here. Hi.”

Billy chuckles on the other end. God what a glorious sound.

“It’s so fuckin good to hear your voice, mate,” rushes out of him. “I can’t even pretend it isn’t.”

“Fuckin hell, I know!” I can’t even pretend either.

“Lord, I think I need to sit my arse down a minute.”

I think he might miss me.

It feels like my digestive system has jazz hands, and I am grinning. I know this because I've just raised my fingertips to my lips to find out. And they are indeed grinning. If I had a mirror I’d be able to tell if it’s a dopey grin. I’ve never tried that kind of grin so I’m ill-prepared for encountering one in the wild.

“Hmmm,” Billy intones, then giggles. Recall how awesome those are. Giggles from Billy are musical, up and down the scale.

Billy tells me, “I love that you have no problem with thinking out loud — especially since, in the moment, you have no idea you’re doing it.” He’s teasing me. I’m feeling teased.

It’s simple. “I gave up caring. It wasn’t worth the energy. And anyone who can’t handle it won’t be able to handle me. So, it’s like a sieve for humans.”

“Weird metaphor, but ok,” he grants me.

It just occurred to me, “She Who Shall Not Be Named never commented on it. Not once. I kinda figured it wasn’t happening anymore. But I guess it is.”

“Simon?”

“Billy?”

“Did you ever feel like she took advantage of knowin what you were thinkin?”

Well, that was dark as one can get. I’ll admit my pride doesn’t love the implication.

“Probably,” I admit with an acrid taste in my mouth.

“Fuck her,” he says, simply. But there’s a vehemence underneath it all that makes my pulse go all irregular. He’s jealous. And protective. Of me! I feel like I just got asked to the prom by the hot exchange student.

“Why do I have to like you so much?” I accuse. “It’s really annoying.”

He doesn’t answer. “Billy? You still there?”

“Yeah.” His voice is weird and rough. “I’m here. I’m glad you called.”

“Me too.”

“No,” he says. “I’m really glad you called. I think I might be ah, em, a little fucked up over this whole thing.”

My heart plummets to my shoes. “Oh.” I don’t know what to do with this new information. I didn’t realize he thought this was fucked up. Ow. My…something hurts. Ow.

“Simon, that’s not even what I said, mate. I said that I’m fucked up, not that the situation is bad. You get the difference, right?” He sounds all wrong.

“Billy, are you ok? I’m a little lost, but I don’t want to be. So tell me, are you ok? Are…are we ok?”

“God yes,” rushes out of him all at once. “Tell me we’re ok, Simon. Are we?”

“Of course! Why would you- No, you know what? Never mind all that. I’m just gonna say it plain. I miss you, Billy Delaney. I miss you and Italy. I plan to see both of you by the end of the week.”

I hear a huge exhalation on the other end, and then I hear movement, as if he’s just slid down the wall to the floor, and landed with a grunt.

“Does that sound ok?” I ask.

“Y-“ He has to clear his throat, and it still sounds gruff. “Yes. Good. Yeah, yes. That- That sounds good.”

“Everything ok, Delaney?”

“Yes, Lewis. All is, as you say, ok.”

“Thank God.”

“Right?” he asks on another gust of breath.

“Why do I miss you so much? It’s weird, right?” I mean, it is. Right?

“Not to my eyes. Not to my ears. Or any other part of me,” he says. “I feel like I haven’t been able to breathe since you left the car. Vittorio is convinced I’ve lost a relation or something. I almost cut myself dicing, Simon. I almost cut myself, dicing!!! That’s beyond the pale, mate. Beyond the pale!”

“Be more careful, Billy, but don’t stop missing me, ok?”

“Ok. Say it back.”

“I promise, Billy. I won’t stop missing you.”

“God! I am so completely shite. Needin to hear that from you. Embarrassing.”

“But-“ One word into my response, Ma busts into my bedroom. It’s after lights-out time, and she’s brandishing her matriarchy at me.

“Simon! What are you doing up so late?” she demands.

I feel just like I did when I was 13 and got caught with my hand in my jammies. “Knock, Ma! I’m on the phone!”

“You are not. You’re on the computer. Don’t lie to me.” Despite the fact that it’s the future, where computers are also phones.

I can do nothing but roll my eyes.

Billy chuckles. “Keep it down, Simon. They’ll be hearin your eyes in Italy.” How can he tell?

“Shh!” I hiss.

“Don’t you shush me, Simon Ira Lewis.”

“She just triple named me,” I whisper to Billy.

“Who are you talking to, young man?”

“‘Young man?’” Billy laughs. “So your mum’s the one as keeps threatening to turn the car round, then.”

“You’re being very rude to your mother. Don’t carry on another conversation while we’re having a conversation.”

“The irony,” observes Billy.

I shoot him a “Pshht!” under my breath, and growl with an actual “grrr.”

“You’re all up in my space, Ma. That’s not ok.”

Ma looks taken aback.

“Who are you to decide what’s ok? Respect your elders, young man.”

“Ma. Stop. And go away. Or I will. I’m serious.”

“Excuse me?!”

“I love you, Ma, but you’re killin me here.”

“Boundaries,” Billy sagely observes.

“Boundaries, Ma. We have some.” Then to Billy, “Shh! I’ll handle this.”

“You’ll handle what? You’ll handle me?! What has gotten into you?!”

“Nothing, yet.”

Billy has just snarfed water out his nose.

I can hear him choking in the background.

“Look, Ma. We’ll talk in the morning, k? But I gotta go give a talk first thing, so it’ll have to be breakfast, not brunch.” And seeing as feeding loved ones is plainly still her kryptonite, I decide to take the food route to her happy place. “Will you make the coffee how I like it? And some of your coffee cake?” Oh my god, the coffee cake. I just made myself salivate. I’m not ashamed.

I see her giving me a thoughtful side-eye. “Alright. I love you, honey.”

“Love you too, Ma. G’night.”

“You want her to leave the door open a crack, and the hall light on?” Billy teases.

“How do you know about that?! I mean, why would you say that?”

“No reason,” Billy answers. “I think I might love your mother,” he says, with that twinkling voice he gets when he’s delighted. Are all Irish people so twinkly everywhere all the time? I gotta find a better word than twinkly.

“Promise me she’s short,” he commands. “In my mind she is a mighty woman, but short.”

“Your mind is right. Jewish mothers are required to be short,” I report. “It’s the law.”

“I knew it,” he laughs. Again, with the twinkling. “Her accent is amazing. Why don’t you sound like her?”

“You mean like this? Soymun. You’re pretty close with your Soim’n, actually. Who knew? Brooklyn and Ireland. Two countries so far apart should not sound so close.”

He chuckles. Such a nice sound. “More. Do the voice, do the voice,” he demands.

“Really? Ok.”

“Ha HA! Yes!” I can hear him grinning maniacally. He should consider happy clapping. When words fail, it’s really the only thing left to do.

“OK. So here’s what she tells me this morning at 6am over coffee:

“Soymun,” I exaggerate her accent. “Did you hear we have new neighbors next door? You remember, where Mrs. Levy died.” (Mrs. Levy died?) “Such a nice young couple. Two men, you know. They get married these days. Such nice Jewish boys.” (Always with the NJBs.) “They got the most beautiful baby girl.” (Got? What, did they go shopping?) “I babysit from time to time, you know. Oy, so spoiled already. A strong head on her, that one. She’ll make a fine Jewish mother someday.” (God help her future sons.)

He stops applauding to inquire, “NJBs?”

“Nice Jewish Boys. Like me. It’s a thing. Just roll with it.”

————/Billy/————

Billy: send me a dick pic

Grumpy: adfsdadfslkjsdjf

Grumpy: you want a what

Billy: ☝️printed right there

Grumpy: rhetorical q

Grumpy: back to the dick pic

Billy: yes please back to that

Grumpy: are you kidding

Grumpy: no dick pic til i know if you’re kidding

Billy: have you ever taken one

Grumpy: NO!

Grumpy: i mean yeah of course

Billy: you’ve never taken one

Grumpy: no

Billy: send me one

Grumpy: why???

Billy: are you feckin jokin me?

Billy: if your hand was doing what mine is

Grumpy:

Billy: just a little somethin to inspire

Grumpy:

Billy: refresh my memory

Grumpy: so how’s Lola?

He’s attempting to distract me with his car.

Billy: send one

Grumpy: you’re bossy

Billy: do you like that

Grumpy: jesus billy!!!

————/-/————

Ten minutes of banter later, I have the dick pic, a full bath, candles in the window, lights off, and almost an entire bottle of Bushmills 12. I swirl the whiskey round the ice til it starts meltin, then let myself into the water, relaxin against a towel folded behind my head.

I like making Simon feel wanted. Desired. But I was also wanting the dick pic currently glowin in my hand.

The hand that’s not currently cupping my balls, giving them some much appreciated attention. I prop the phone up against the window, so both hands are free.

I compare the pic to my own cock. Despite being the same size, they really are quite different. He’s cut — that’s the obvious difference. But he’s also veinier. Different color, too. Mine’s more, I’m not sure, maybe darker? But his looks sort of peachy, with a rosy head. I recall it looking angry red when it’s hard.

Grumpy: I’m waiting

Billy: ?

Grumpy: for yours, you cheat!

Billy: ok

I hold mine in my hand, stroke it and take a couple shots. The second one is best (why? dunno), so I hit send.

Grumpy: glargh *swallows tongue*

Grumpy: no swallowing jokes

Grumpy: unless they’re good jokes

Billy: you don’t want me thinking bout swallowin

Billy: but you’re fine with me thinkin bout your tongue, tonguing?

Billy: that’d be alright then would it?

Billy: i’m so turned on that even textin can’t make my cock go soft

Grumpy: you don’t play fair

Billy: you got no idea

Grumpy: merp

Billy: goodnight simon

Grumpy: no! billy wait!

Billy: my hands are busy

Slippery under water, my cock is almost painfully hard, but the slip and slide is everything good in the world.

Because of a dick pic. That is mental.

But look at it!

I think I just- Did I really just salivate?

Now all I can think about is picturing Simon slipping and sliding in and out of a mouth. Not my mouth, specifically. Sort of a gender neutral mouth. And just thinkin bout Simon gettin sucked off, my brain stutters, my pulse, my stroke, everything stutters as the bright light of pleasure glows throughout me and I’m groaning.

I twist as I pass the head on every stroke. God yes. My breathing picks up.

The imaginary mouth sucks on the crown of his cock. The image sends a lance of pleasure through me. I imagine my hand doin the same to his balls as I’m doin to mine.

In my mind, I’m picturing Simon feelin everything I do to myself, as if I’m doing it to him. I use it to create the fantasy. The fantasy expands to include my cock gettin sucked off. And it’s a pair of lips I’ve never kissed. I can’t believe the strength of wantin Simon’s lips on my cock, and wantin Simon to feel it as if it’s my lips on him. Mmmmmfff.

Oh shit, what’s- Text notification. Simon’s just sent another text.

His cock. Long, thick, rock hard and red. The angle is mmmmf his thighs in the background, and ungh his ssssac against his course shorthairssss.

I get two flashes of pleasure in quick succession. Oh fuck yes. Hhhhhhhhhhmmmyes.

My cock jumps underwater, sending out ripples as electricity courses down my length.

Unnnnhhh, my imagination is still hard at work. I can no longer tell what part belongs to who, where sensation and imagination meld. In my hand. In his mouth.

Mmmmmm in his mouth.

I can see it with such clarity. That mental image makes my balls draw up high and tight, and all they want is release. Oh Jaysus, the image is so clear. His mouth, red and puffy from bein used. Spit-shine on his lips, running to his chin. The vision makes me moan, like a glow from a thousand miles away. And I keep on moanin, as a thrilling feeling of urgency swamps me. I arch my back, the pleasure drawing from every part of me, until I uncontrollably gasp “Fffffffffffffuh!” And suddenly I’m pulsing come into a cloth.

My cock in his mmmmouth. I convulse again, pulsing out even more, and my moan turns into a whine as I encourage one last strained pulse from the head.

My chest is heaving from holdin my breath. Sometimes I forget to breathe when I come. And if I can manage to keep control of my cock long enough to time my climax right, some of my most powerful orgasms have come from holdin my breath longer than a reasonable man would. The gasp of air when I tip over the edge is an orgasm that comes on a head rush and a sudden infusion of oxygen.

I’m not one for choking, though. Even the thought of it makes my cock shrink.

I step out of the bath and rest against the window frame, appreciating the view of the boats in the harbor all lit up like sparks on the water. I let myself air dry in the night breezes, luxuriating nude by the open window lettin in the floral scents of the gardens and the salt off the sea.

It’s a beautiful night, and I am sated.

————/-/————

Masterlist || ao3 || start || prev || next

————/-/————

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merryfortune · 4 months

Text

Fascinated

Year of the OTP 2023 - December

Title: Fascinated

Ship: Respectfulshipping | Ryoken/Spectre

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,473

Tags: Alternate Universe - Florist/Tattoo Artist, Attraction at First Sight, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Developing Relationship

The grand opening banner was silken when the sunshine hit it, dyeing the lilac fabric of it pink in the afternoon. It was gorgeous and unmistakable from even across the road at the local tattoo parlour.

He didn’t get a lot of business. None of the good kind, anyway so mostly, Ryoken served the tourists who weren’t too drunk. Besides, attitudes towards body art were beginning to change, which made sense since Den City was at the forefront of imported individualism, electric entertainment, and plenty more modern things.

It wasn’t a steady income but it was enough to allow Ryoken to pay the rent and that was made even easier considering that he slept on the futon in his own attic. So, he had plenty of time to do nothing at all.

Like admire the newly opened florist from across the road.

The shop it was prior had closed up when the ma and pa had decided to retire and move in with their children, or so Ryoken had heard. It had actually been empty from before he had opened up shop with his benignly controversial tattoo parlour.

The glass panes in the window was slick and shiny, well polished and with colourful bushels of seasonally appropriate selections and bouquets dutifully placed in buckets outside in the morning then brought inside in the afternoon. All by a worker that Ryoken had only glimpsed: a quaff of silver hair there, the swing of the straps of a pastel green apron there.

There was some kind of grand opening sale and Mother’s Day was at the end of the week. Ryoken didn’t have a mother in his life so he didn’t really have an excuse to go and poke his nose in. He really wanted to, however. It was such a nice and cosy shop from the outside looking in, so he would like to see what it looked like from the otherside of the threshold which had a jingly bell pinned to it.

But Ryoken needed an excuse to go inside.

And he didn’t really have one.

At least not until Takeru and Yusaku gave him one.

“Dude. Are you seriously pining for that guy from across the street?” Takeru asked, unamused as he rocked to and fro on his bicycle, moving barest centimetres on the pavement whilst Yusaku fussed behind him.

Takeru’s current side hustle was Yusaku’s old one: that was food delivery. He worked at Yusaku’s previous job which was the counter of a hot dog stand. Yusaku had worked there diligently all through high school and its earnings not only put him through high school and university but helped him open up his IT department. Takeru was hoping to bottle some of that magic for his main gig which was helping out at his family’s dojo.

“You’ve never even talked to him.” Takeru pointed out, provoking.

“Yeah, well, I’ll figure it out.” Ryoken said.

He crossed his arms, flustered. He leaned against the threshold of his tattoo parlour, which was next door to Yusaku’s IT department. It also sold an eclectic and curated selection of electronics and computer accessories. Video games, too. It was kind of a nerd’s paradise. Not really Takeru’s scene, unless he was bringing Yusaku home some hot dogs as Cafe Nagi’s were still his favourite. Not just favourite hot dog but favourite anything in the domain of fast food.

Ryoken liked them too and Yusaku was typically nice enough to order extra for him. Ryoken’s Father was right. There was a lot more money to be made in STEM than in the arts, especially tattooing but oh well. Ryoken had stuck to his guns and look how far it had gotten him.

His own small business, his own flat, and his own pathetic stint as a loverboy as he crushed on the florist from across the road.

It was honestly pathetic how soppy Ryoken was for someone he had only seen a handful of times in the past week. So far it seemed, the florist was enjoying a modest business, one which would always go on as the demand for flowers was far higher than anything else. His business was not only pretty from the premise but pretty in the premises too, stainless pale blue tiles lined the outside walls and the flowers were bouncy and vivacious, too.

All whilst underneath the name of the business captured the imagination: Sunavalon. What did it mean? Ryoken wasn’t sure but it rolled off the tongue, it stood out on paper. It looked handsome in serifed writing on stilts above that grand opening banner.

“Do you even know his name?” Takeru asked.

“No…” Ryoken confessed. Alas, the name Sunavalon was all he knew of the florist. But that was more than enough to cause a crush to blossom from the other side of the asphalt.

“Argh.” Takeru complained.

“Thanks for the lunch, Takeru.” Yusaku piped up. He had finally gone through all the foiled containers and brown paper bags that Takeru was hauling around in his insulated bags.

“You're welcome.” Takeru replied.

“But you should really do something about this whole thing.” yusaku said as he turned his attention to Ryoken, handing him a styrofoam container with his hot dog in it. “Like, surely you can come up with some way to at least introduce yourself. Offer him lunch.”

“I can’t just offer him lunch.” Ryoken said.

“Yeah, we know.” Takeru snickered.

Ryoken glared at Takeru. Money was tight! And Yusaku was a good guy, which was why Ryoken was getting this free shout once a blue moon. Fun fact, blue moons were quite weekly on this little street of littler businesses in this part of Den City.

Ryoken happily accepted his hot dog. Which gave Yusaku the free hand to enjoy his own.

“Brain food. Surely you have some free option of casually introducing yourself since we’re well past the just being neighbourly phase.” Yusaku said. “Like, don’t you have a sketch pad? A camera? Something, anything? Walk in there, say you’ve got a client looking for a quote over the phone on how good you can do flowers, specifically the ones she saw over there.” Yusaku shrugged as he then opened his container and took a bite from his hot dog. “Or something. I don’t really care.”

“That was a sure lotta words for someone who doesn’t care.” Takeru rolled his eyes.

“And totally genius.” Ryoken beamed.

“I’ve been told.” Yusaku smugly replied.

“Anyways, I better get going, I still have plenty more rounds to go and beating the pavement sure beats whatever trainwreck this is.” Takeru complained.

Yusaku laughed at Takeru’s expense. He leaned in and pecked Takeru’s cheek, wishing him good luck on the rest of his rounds. His phone was already blowing up with more orders, more places to go to pick up and even more places to go drop off. Ryoken really didn’t envy him. Even if he was fuming because of him.

Still, Yusaku’s idea was great.

Ryoken scarfed down the rest of his hot dog as he went back inside and Yusaku did the same. Especially since he actually had customers: a little old lady in search of a G-rated video game for her grandson’s birthday. Ryoken, meanwhile, was embarrassingly all too free to ramsack his own business in search of a good old fashioned sketch pad.

He found a good one - with only some of his best portfolio inside, just in case he had to impress - and sharpened one of his trust 2B pencils. After that, he manned up. He was going to find out more about the Sunavalon Florist or so help him as the crush he had may just crush him from the lack of insight into just who he was.

After lunch, and at a totally casual two-thirty-four on the clock, and have careful counting of who was coming and going through the florist’s doors, Ryoken put a back in five minutes sign on his own then meandered over. He wanted to seem interested but not obsessive. Cool and calm and he had a close call just crossing the road.

The toe of his jogger stubbed on a loose piece of gravel but Ryoken hardly stumbled. He recovered just fine. He exhaled and pushed his fringe out of the way as he finally got to the door. He pushed on it and was immediately met with a breath of air conditioning which stood out to him as both freshly installed and perfectly temperate.

“Welcome to Sunavalon.” a voice chimed out out of sync with the tolling of the bells.

Ryoken felt his heart skip a beat. He glanced around the room. This place was simple. Not extravagant but not under-decorated, either. The selections of decor were subtle and straight out of a catalogue for furniture under ten thousand yen and likely the same catalogue was all so congruent with one another. A lounge to the side, a mirror above it, a framed artwork on the other side of the wall. Then all the flowers, of course.

“Hey.” Ryoken said, after he cleared his throat.

The owner of the voice made himself known and was, naturally, the owner of the store. He came from behind the computer, totally swish, likely from Yusaku’s shop, Ryoken was willing to bet, Ryoken could swear he heard a choir of cherubs as his movement was in heavenly slow-mo.

“How may I help you?” he said and he placed his hand, elegant like a pianist’s, over his heart. “I am the proprietor of this florist, my name is Kinoshita Shinbou. You may call me Shinobu.”

Ryoken hazarded a smile. What a handsome name for a handsome man, he looked even better up close and in somewhat fluorescent light than in whatever shafts of sunlight he happened in during his few outings onto the street through the day. He had clay silver hair and amazingly blue eyes, he was somewhat tall and dressed quite prim in a three-piece suit accessorised by a pastel green apron with a small tulip on the chest.

“Yeah, hi, good to meet you,” Ryoken rambled through his words, “I’m Ryoken, I work across the road at the tattoo parlour.”

He figured mentioning his job would be a good way to know off the bat if his delusions of amour would be shattered or not but surprisingly, Shinobu merely smiled politely.

“Good to meet you also,” he said, “I’ve seen you every so often… What brings you in?”

Ryoken felt his words clog up in his throat. And then his mouth. And then he had to imagine Yusaku elbowing him in the ribs just to spit it out but there was just something so splendid about the florist in front of him. As though he were a dryad, one of his flowers rather than a person. He just had that effect on Ryoken.

“I, uh, need to borrow a reference, if you don’t mind.” Ryoken said in the poorest way possible. He could tell because Shinobu quirked a brow in mild confusion. “What I mean is, I’ve got a lady who wants me to tattoo a flower on her and she only wants to follow through on my quote if I can show her some more flowers in my portfolio so if you don’t mind, I’d like to do some sketching here. I won’t take long. Promise.”

Shinobu’s eyes lit up, “I don’t mind at all. Can I see your art?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure, have a look.” Ryoken smiled.

He was really glad he had made the point of choosing his most Instagram perfect aesthetic sketchbook to bring with him. Good quality paper, a funky white, orange, green, and grey geometric pattern on the cover, and some of his best drawings on the inside, too. He smirked as he handed it over and let Shinobu flick through it.

His eyes went wider and wider and bluer and bluer with how impressed he was with Ryoken’s work. He then paused on something towards the middle end of it, before the blank pages unravelled. He looked over it extra lovingly.

“I like this one, I think it's my favourite.” Shinobu said as he handed Ryoken’s sketch book back to him so he could have a look at it and lo and behold.

Shinobu had picked out a sketch to admire and choose as a favourite that totally encapsulated the ethereal vibe he gave off. On this particular page was something which was somewhat of a departure of Ryoken’s usual artworks of edgy doom and gloom, though not entirely. It depicted a Tinkerbell-esque fairy posed upon a dragon’s skull.

“You like this one best?” Ryokan asked to confirm, putting on some faux accent of modesty.

“Yes, I do.” Shinobu said with a smile. “But I agree with your client. Your flowers could use more accuracy so please, feel free to reference to your heart’s content on my shop floor.”

Ryoken felt as though he had been shot through the heart with an arrow. Not just Cupid’s but actual modesty’s too. He more than noticed the criticism that Shinobu had slipped into the conversation.

“Thanks, I appreciate it, any pointers you can give would be great.” Ryoken said.

“Hm… You should be mindful of Fibonacci’s number then, all flowers grow according to it. Assuming they aren’t fascinated.” Shinobu replied.

“Fascinated?” Ryoken echoed, he wasn’t familiar with this term. He blinked.

“Here, let me show you.” Shinobu said, more than excited, especially now he could show off not just his showroom but his passion, too.

Ryoken was enthralled by the delight which came to life in Shinobu’s voice and so, was more than drawn in when Shinobu showed him something from his private, not for sale collection. Ryoken had no idea that there was a whole world of floral body horror he had been previously unaware of until now.

Shinobu held a little, potted plant in his hands: the pot was pretty and ceramic, the succulent that was inside was anything but. It was abnormal and over exaggerated, like one of those doodles Ryoken did where he never lifted the pencil off the paper. This succulent just went on and on and on with all the parts of its plant. It was spiky and colourful.

“Do you like it?” Shinobu asked.

“Yeah, it's really cool.” Ryoken said.

Shinobu smiled as he let Ryoken hold it, too. The ceramic pot was cool on the inside of Ryoken’s palm. Holding it, he was able to see it from different angles and admire it better.

Shinobu watched, humbled, as Ryoken was excited over his fascinated succulent, “That’s from my personal collection but if you like it so much, why don’t you keep it?”

“No way, I couldn’t take it.” Ryoken said, straightening up at the offer as it was like a jolt of electricity to his system.

“I insist.” Shinobu said.

“I have the complete opposite of a green thumb.” Ryoken said. “I can barely keep myself alive on two-minute noodles.”

“Succulents are a good starter plant and, if you like, I can drop in across the road and see how it's going.” Shinobu suggested, and with a bat of his eyelashes no less.

Ryoken felt his heart stop and then, as he processed Shinobu’s flirtation. Then, when he did, his heart restarted and bounded straight into his throat. Ryoken felt his temperature rise as a wonky smile crossed his face from left to right.

“I’d appreciate that.” he managed to utter out.

“I’ll see you when I can.” Shinobu said and as though on cue, the bell to his own store jingled.

He actually had customers. Congratulations to the newcomer to the street. So, Ryoken politely backed out so Shinobu could get back to work. The same of which couldn’t be said about Ryoken. He took down his “back in five minutes” sign and didn’t get any visitors over the course of the rest of the afternoon. Though, he did notice a couple click-ons and click-offs on his website and emptied his spam folder.

All whilst the fascinated succulent in its white-and-blue ceramic pot now sat on his counter, just above his two-monitor computer setup complete with an RGB keyboard and wireless mouse. It looked good there. Ryoken liked it there and the next day, when Shinobu visited, he liked it there, too.

He visited early. Literally one minute after Ryoken flipped his close sign to open. If it weren’t endearing, it would have been freaky. Probably. Seriously, he came in at exactly 10:01.

“Good morning.” Shinobu said.

“Good morning.” Ryoken replied.

He smiled, welcomingly, but was a little bit unsettled by Shinobu’s punctuality. It was a bit too much but worth it very quickly as Shinobu admired the decor of Ryoken’s tattoo parlour. The glowy neon tubing on the walls, the cracks in the tiles, the state of the art equipment and of course: the pot plant on the counter.

Ryoken had, of course, placed it on a throne of honour, on the high counter which protected his two computer screens and cash register. It looked good there. Even if the Greek blue and white pot clashed with his edgier aesthetic that he was trying to theme his parlour around. At least the way it dripped and drooped was vaguely intestine shaped.

“Glad to see the little one settling in.” Shinobu chuckled.

“It’s been getting plenty of compliments.” Ryoken agreed.

He lifted himself slightly out of his red and black gamer chair to peek over the counter. He kept stealing glances at Shinobu but wanted to seem fun and casual, and like he actually had work. And Ryoken did. He was just tidying up some overnight bookings on his calendar, to chase up potential clients, make sure they hadn’t been drunk or similar when booking as these scattered bookings were timestamped for around midnight the night before.

“Glad to hear it.” Shinobu said.

The light chatter went quiet after that. Ryoken wasn’t sure what to say next. They had kind of done most of the small talk available to them. Was it too late to mention the weather? It was just as temperate as normal, maybe going to rain this afternoon… Or should they talk about their work? Ryoken wasn’t sure as he awkwardly tapped on keys on his keyboard. Mostly his back space since he was running out of things to be doing on his computer before it just turned into pretending.

And Shinobu must have sensed that Ryoken was doing that just: pretending to work.

He peered over the counter and looked down at Ryoken and Ryoken was taken aback once more by how pretty the florist was. He had big blue eyes which could have been straight out of one of those creepy porcelain doll’s faces and quaffed silver hair.

Ryoken felt his heart seize with his crush. There was so much that he didn’t know about the proprietor of the Sunavalon Florist, Mister Shinobu Kinoshita and he really wanted to change that. Their eyes met and Ryoken really, truly felt a spark. A mutual one. Shinobu smiled shyly and Ryoken blurted it out.

“Do you want to meet-up during off-work hours sometime?” Ryoken asked. “I know a good cafe around here, with a view of the sea, wanna go there on Sunday?”

“Sunday?” Shinobu echoed, flattered and his face going pink.

Ryoken nodded. His breath felt tight in his chest as his palms sweated. He did it. He really did it. He asked Shinobu on a date.

“This Sunday?” Shinobu prompted to clarify.

“Yes, this Sunday.” Ryoken replied.

“It's Mother’s Day this Sunday, I’m going to be busy all day.” Shinobu laughed. He turned shy, looked away. “And it's a special day for me regardless, I’m afraid I couldn’t anyway…”

“Oh…” Ryoken said.

Well. He learned something new about Shinobu. Mother’s Day was important. He wondered why. Then again, Ryoken felt like a fool for not realising that the florist would be busy all day on Mother's Day, a popular event for bouquets. He was a bigger fool for forgetting, despite the banners and buzz. Ryoken stopped himself from groaning at his own expense and try to refresh his thoughts by licking his lips.

“What about Saturday?” Ryoken suggested.

“This Saturday?” Shinobu echoed, his tone of voice turning playful as he looked at Ryoken once more.

“Yes, this Saturday.” Ryoken smiled.

“I would love to join you for coffee then.” Shinobu demurely replied.

“Then it's a date.” Ryoken said.

“I’ll look forward to it.” Shinobu added.

He reached up and traced his finger around the edge of the pot plant. He avoided the pricks of the succulent and Ryoken noticed. He was going to look forward to their coffee date on Saturday, too. For now, they both had work to do.

#yugioh vrains #vrains #yugioh #respectfulshipping #ryoken kogami #kogami ryoken #spectre (vrains)#year of the otp 2023 #writing tag #fascinated

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