.Which Guy-on-Guy Couple Is Your Favorite Slash Pairing?
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Hello Beautiful (Eleven/Max)Hello, beautiful, how's it going?Eleven was moping or at least, that's what Joyce was saying she was. She didn't really know what she was doing if she was honest, the whole big feelings thing had always been lost on her, given she'd never been really a feelings person. Or at least, she used to not be.The 19 year old had been sitting in her room staring at the ceiling for a while as she tried to get her mind off of her college work and rid herself of the aching in her heart, but her gaze soon turned to the calendar adjacent to the side of her desk, the year of 1990 in big, bold letters across it, under a string of rather finger marked Polaroid pictures hung across it, each showing two girls that grew up in succession till the last, which she couldn't pry herself away from, seeing the red haired girl inside of it smiling, practically grinning, next to her person. Maxine. Her Maxine.I hear it's wonderful in CaliforniaIt wasn't like Maxine had just disappeared or something. No, it just was that Maxine, instead of staying in the state of Indiana once she graduated from Hawkins High with her like she'd really hoped she would, given the death of her brother, Max had instead moved to go back to her home state of California, 2,229 miles away and out of her arm's reach.She had tried to make it sound like she was just moving because a college accepted her there, but Eleven knew deep down that was not the truth answer or at least, not all of it. She knew Max wanted out of Hawkins since she first stepped foot in it and with her Dad and her Mom god knows where since Billy's death (she'd been over their house semi-frequently in the time that passed for sleepovers, general visits and whatnot, but rarely saw them, even though it had been almost 6 years), Max had the chance to leave and took it wholeheartedly.I've been missing you, it's trueEl tried not to be bitter about it, she really did, but it still hurt sometimes. She missed her terribly.Max was...well, everything. The first person to try and make her happy after Hopper's death, to comfort her after Mike broke up with her for another girl who hadn't moved away from the town that had tortured them for years on end, the first girl she'd ever had a sleepover with, to talk about girly things to, to complain about nitpicky things that she'd never talked about to Joyce and ultimately, her becoming her first (and possibly only) ever girlfriend of 3 years.That chunk of time only seemed to matter so much when you decide to leave and think everyone will be cool with it, especially your girlfriend who knew nothing about it.But tonight, I'm gonna flyMax promised that she would call and if not, she would e-mail and that promise had been kept at least. There wasn't a day that Eleven didn't speak to her or wrote lengthy jargon about what was going on in Hawkins and her newly established section of Illinois and it's State University, where she'd decided to go since, well, she was already here after all and the Byers had been so kind to her, she wasn't not going to repay by just up and leaving them.Yeah, tonight, I'm gonna flyPlus, she felt like they were family, given Hopper had always been in love with Joyce secretly (only she really knew) and El saw Will and Johnathan as her brothers now more than ever.'Cause I could go across the world and see everything and never be satisfiedNo amount of any of that however, the time she spent talking with Will (who'd decided to get a job instead of going to college thanks to just the sheer pressure of it all causing havoc with his PTSD and had moved out into his own apartment that Eleven usually gatecrashed in most weekends to his annoyance and jokingly, chagrin), spending time with Joyce and new friends and studying and attempting to be on some normal functioning level as a human could never repair the Max sized hole in her heart. Mike be damned.If I couldn't see those eyesIf she closes her eyes, just for a moment and attempts to find Max's mind (a feat she's tried once or twice before) she can still see Max's eyes- her beautiful, endlessly ocean like pale blue eyes, just staring back at her, the pink lips she'd kissed for years in a nervous, but easy going smile as she stared, taking everything in to the best of her ability.However, reality usually swiped her away at the last second and she'd be back in the dark again, alone, before she would reluctantly pull out and come back down. She hated that she couldn't stay in that dream state forever and all with this, there was a voice, shouting at her practically to do something about it. Fix this whole thing and get out of the funk she's in.Problem was, she didn't even know where to start.Hello, beautiful, it's been a long timeA long way away in the inside of a dorm room situated in Fullerton, California, another person like Eleven was also thinking on almost the same level of thought.Maxine Mayfield, or 'Max' as she liked to be called, was lying on her bed while her roommate was out for the day, staring at a Polaroid photo encased in clear glass with a frame, a ink penned heart around its occupants, a copy of the same photo that had caught El's eye miles away in Indiana, but she didn't know that.Since my phone's rung and you've been on that lineShe hated leaving El, but Indiana just wasn't for her. It never was. Her mother and stepfather as well as her older step brother, were the only anchors other than El and their friends keeping her down. When Billy had passed away and El and the Byers moved, it made her hate it even more- not the people, just the place.She had been waiting to leave, watching the time tick away and once they'd all left for new experiences, gone off to college or stayed in the small town and worked or a combination of both, home called her and she followed his sound, despite her and El being a thing now.She didn't know how much it would hurt to be away from El until she got here, but soon found out as despite the long hours of talking about nothing on the landline, as well as the rambling emails that were basically a town newspaper with interjects of thoughts and Eleven's skewed sense of humor (which she'd also missed in the long run),she still had yet to say she was happy here, back home where she felt like she belonged.I've been missing you, it's trueShe had her own friends, both old and new (she'd managed to track down Nate Walker even and they ended up being friends like nothing had changed thankfully, which she was grateful for given her situation), she also saw her father here and there as well, but it didn't patch everything up, she knew deep down it never would, but she didn't want to admit that.But tonight, I'm gonna flyPutting the picture back on the table beside her bed, Max attempted not to let her mind stray to everything weighing her down and went to her classes willingly to fill her mind with mindless words and lectures that she'd half remember later when she felt like it, not knowing that something was waiting for her back at her dorm room, which she was presently heading towards to to put her belongings away before she went and found herself a late lunch.Yeah, tonight, I'm gonna fly, oh yeahFinding the door to her dorm ajar, Max assumed her roommate was home and called out her name as she entered to notify her of her appearance, but all of stuff fell out of her hands in shock when she saw the familiar back of a curly haired brown head on top of a body that was sitting on the edge of her bed, turning to face her with a grin and tearful eyes.'Cause I could go across the world and see everything and never be satisfied"Oh my god!" Max squealed like she was 12 years old again and the redhead dived from one side of the hall to the other, Eleven able to catch her on the receiving end in order for them to stumble onto Max's small single bed for a soft landing, both in tears as they hugged each other tightly, unwilling to let the other go as they buried their heads into each other's clothing.If I couldn't see those eyesIt wouldn't be until later that Max would come to find out that Eleven had stolen Will's car in order to make the 32 hour road trip to see her because she missed her so much, but she couldn't find a bone in her body to even care how she got here, just that she was.There would be introductions to make and things to do and she knew that Joyce would be livid and her bed was too small for two people plus a whole number of things would or could happen even after all those problem were solved, but right now, the ache in her chest was lifting and although she didn't know it, so was El's.They just were together and basically, that's all that really mattered. Ever.
I Fall,You Fall,We All Fall Down (Harry/Draco) CH5“You admitted you loved me. In your own way, given you really didn’t like saying it out loud.”“Mother always said that she loved me, when she was able. Father, however-” Draco shook his head. “-he would only admit to being proud of me, never loving me. Given the curse over our family, I think he thought I would kill Mother due to it and didn’t know how to be a father completely, even when the opportunity was presented to him on a silver platter.”“Lucius might have been the way he was, but he tried to love you.” Harry admitted, watching as Draco’s eyes seemed suspiciously shiner than before. “He may not have loved you the right way, or treated you or Narcissa like he should have, but he did try.”Draco just nodded. “I’m guessing that’s why he gave up our home to the Death Eaters for a base, given they tried to break into Hogwarts without much success. He was trying to protect me, or so he kept saying. I wonder if the current version of me is hearing the same lies.”“He most likely is, given there’s a war he’s now a part of happening right now as we speak.”“I don’t usually ask this, but you have my permission to punch me when you find me for being as stupid as I’ve ever been and more."“Thanks.” Harry grinned and Draco couldn’t help but grin back, knowing that he was finally getting the boy he loved back, even if his real self didn’t know that yet. He wondered if the other Malfoy had his version of Harry, this version currently blooming to life in front of him after so long, in his head right now, speaking with him. Asking me to think for once.“The last time I saw you was at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. You owled me just after you arrived at the Weasley shack with a wedding invitation and the hair of some ginger-haired Muggle-born you found on the street as you somehow knew I would be able to find a Polyjuice Potion already made and ready in time to attend as your disguised date.”“You looked like absolute shit that day, I didn’t know who you were for a second.”“Excuse me, you made me look like shit so I wouldn’t be cursed to hell, you tosser.”✨The knock at the door was unexpected, but not unwarranted as many of Ron’s cousins and relatives were coming from around the European continents for Bill’s wedding, just as much as Fleur’s much smaller congregation were coming from France. Ron answered it and was voicing confusion as to who it was, but Harry after a moment of awkwardness, saw right through it. The ginger-haired boy in front of him that was attempting to speak to Ron as best he could was handsome as could be, with golden brown eyes and wearing a green pinstripe suit with black undershirt and shoes, a blue Fanged Geranium in his front pocket and golden rings adorning two of his fingers** that glinted in the afternoon sunlight streaming in from Mrs. Weasley’s newly cleaned windows as his frightened eyes caught him and relaxed slightly. “Ah, there you are Harry, my love. I was wondering if you’d forgotten me.” (**Just picture KJ Apa (hence the reason why I tagged him, haha) as the disguise for this scene here. Honestly, from the right angle, he could be a Weasley. It was an apt choice for a potion.)The boy smirked and Harry couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face at the realization, but dimmed it down slightly as Hermione, Ginny (who had just appeared in the room) and Ron all looked at him in confusion. Chuckling he stepped forward. “I wondered if my owl reached you at all, if I’m honest. Thank you for coming.” He took the boy’s- Malfoy’s, he realized now- hand and held it tightly. “I was thinking I would be without a dance partner.”“Harry, who in the actual hell did you invite-” Ron started, but Malfoy, ever the apt person at making up scenarios on the spot, smiled charmingly at Ron. “Draaien Goyle, Durmstrang Institute. Me and Mr. Potter met during the Triwizard Tournament in 4th year after I came to both represent the school and visit my cousin, Gregory, who attends Hogwarts. We've been in correspondence since then and I hope you don’t mind, but Mr. Potter knows I love a good drink and extended an invite. Goodness knows in these trying times, we need a little fun.”Catching Hermoine’s eye (who clearly had figured out judging by her surprised eyes and mouth almost agape) as well as Ginny’s (well, as much as he saw of her before she ran out of the room, seemingly upset), Harry just shook his head. “I didn’t think you or your parents would mind Ron, given thanks to Fleur’s parents, there’s enough champagne to kill a wild Cobra Lily and given that Dra-um, Mr. Goyle looks like one of your many cousins, I figured it would be alright, despite everything happening at the moment.”“You’re very lucky you're my best friend Potter or I’d crucify you for this.” Ron muttered after a moment and shook “Mr. Goyle’s” hand. “Welcome Draaien. Sorry about everything. You best hope Mum doesn’t figure out you invited someone, or you’ll be hung off the tent by your suit jacket, mark my words, the woman’s gone balmy thanks to this wedding.”Ron then finally left, leaving the three others alone in the room, Hermione flying up to them like a panicked bird as soon as he disappeared. “Are you insane, Harry!? What were you thinking, bringing him here!?”“Hermione, it’s fine. I’ve been stuck at home for so long, I was almost too eager to get that owl. Luckily, Father and Mother were in a meeting with all of those skiffs, so I was able to leave the Manor easily without detection.” Draco’s real voice came out of the stranger’s mouth and not the accent he’d picked up from being around Igor Karkaroff, the headmaster of the Academy that was old friends with his father and others he knew and communicated with during his life. “I’ll be in and out before this wears off, it’s good for a couple of hours. We have to be careful though.”He lowered his voice. “I wasn’t able to be present in the last couple of meetings, but I’ve heard whispers through the doors of Father’s study and the hall. There’s a war brewing of course, a bad one, but they are planning more attacks on a scale worse than we already were suspecting. I can only hope that we can contain it before it gets worse.”“We will.” Hermione nodded definitely. “We have a plan in place for if something happens.”“I know, I'm well aware. Harry’s got looser lips than Pansy Parkinson and that’s saying a lot.”“Hey, I’m right here.” Harry grumbled, but found it in him not to be mad as Draco took his hand again, smirking as he changed back into the accent he’d started with. “Come on Potter, lead the way to the tent so we can find our seats and hope that you don’t spontaneously combust in the meantime. You promised me champagne, not depression.”✨“You were acting like a mole. Like Snape was.” Harry realized, biting his lip. “You were listening to them within their meetings thanks to your father’s position and relaying the information back to me so I could inform the Order.”“Sadly I was unable to tell you about the raid on your Muggle relatives house until it was too late and they’d already left to try and kill you. You forgave me, however. You have too big of a heart, Potter, one of the many reasons I found myself falling for dumb old you.”“But if you were acting like a mole for us-” Harry swallowed. “Why would I ask Hermione to erase your memory? Why would I even dare do that when you had information that could help us in finding the Horcruxes and I could protect you?”“It was just that. You wanted to protect me. You didn’t care what I thought about it all, just that you wanted to protect me from getting hurt. The spells were performed that night, under the direction of Hermione herself. We didn't want to do it, but you convinced me that it was best.”“That night? The wedding night? We did it there?”“Not exactly. Everything kind of went wrong after the Death Eaters attacked the wedding.”✨One minute, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy or well, “Draaien Goyle” were dancing as red-headed Weasley’s and blonde-headed Delacour’s whirled around them in their various pairs, red-cheeked from all the alcohol they had consumed and not even caring about what was happening beyond the borders of the tent. The next minute, that Patronus turned up announcing that the Ministry had fallen and then they were running down a long line of cut grass between fields, explosions booming around them from Death Eater’s wand casts with Ron and Hermione flanking their sides as the resident girl of the group Disapparated them to London.Of course, this is when Draco’s Polyjuice potion decided to wear off to both Harry and Hermoine’s horror. One minute, the red-headed disguise was panting as they sat in the empty diner Hermione had led them to, then he was bubbling, the next it fell away to reveal a terrified Draco whom Ron, after a moment of shock, set on like the centaurs did to Umbridge last year deftly. “What in the hell are you doing here, Malfoy!?”“Ron, Ron let him go! Get-off-of-him!” Both Harry and Hermione pulled him back, Hermione keeping hold of him as he thrashed before Harry assisted him in getting up. “Are you alright, Dre? Sorry about him. Guess that potion was stretched a little thin.”Draco was holding his cheek, but nodded, putting his head down to show a bruise. “I’ll live. Weasley’s got a right hook as good as his girlfriend’s, clearly, they’re made for eachother.”“It’s not the time for teasing right now, Draco, please.” Hermione pleaded and Ron stopped to look in between the three. “What, you knew about this!? This-this weasel being here?”“Draco’s been dating Harry for years, Ronald.” Hermione simply said, glaring at him. “I’ve known for years now, you somehow haven’t managed to grasp that concept yet despite me telling you multiple times.”“Please- Harry, please tell me she’s joking.” Ron quickly turned to Harry, who made no comment much to Ron’s panic. “Harry, what the fuck!?”“He’s not as bad as you think he is Ron, he’s different from his family.”“His whole family are Death Eaters or practice Dark bloody Magic!”Harry went to say something, but Draco caught his chest with a hand and stopped him in place as he stepped forward, most likely to get in Ron’s face. “He’s right Harry, he’s entitled to his opinion, though I will say this Weasley-”He turned to Ron with calculating but emotional eyes as he spoke softly. "I have never, or ever will, have any intentions to harm Potter. No matter your thoughts on the matter or against my family, some of whom I also find as wretched and depraved as you do, I hope to make that clear to you as my relationship with him continues.”Ron wanted to say something, clearly, and it was hopefully going to be less heated than how the conversation started, but it was whisked away by the more high importance of not being killed, as they hadn’t been aware that they’d been followed from the Burrow until two men, looking like workmen from some nearby building construction or janitorial job walked in to seemingly order something to eat and then started firing spells at them all.“Draco, what a surprise!” One of them grinned evilly as Draco looked terrified as his dark eyes stared him down. “Won’t Daddy be so surprised to find out his son is siding with the Boy Who Lived? The Dark Lord will have so much joy using the Cruciatus Curse on you in front of him so you will admit before you are killed!” The taut made Harry see red and he fired off several defense spells because of it, knocking the two senseless with the aide of the other three until the diner was practically destroyed and it just left them standing alone in the rubble.Harry quickly made Hermione and Draco drop the blinds while Ron used the Delumonator to get the lights and turn the whole place dark as they walked behind the counter to survey the damage that they had caused in defending themselves. The knocked-out man caught Harry’s attention first. “This one’s Thorfinn Rowle, I’m sure of it.”“He is, yes.” Draco admitted beside him, nodding curtly, despite looking like he may faint thanks to the other’s threat earlier and fingers dangerously close to Harry's own. “He was on the astronomy tower with us the night Snape went and killed Dumbledore.”“This is Antonin Dolohov.” Ron grunted from in front of them, where he hovered over the other man that both had threatened Draco and been put in a full-body bind by Hermione earlier. “I recognize him from the wanted posters.” He looked down at him in disgust, a far looser emotion than the one he’d shown Draco earlier. “So what are we going to do with you, eh?” He murmured, sneering practically as he watched the man’s frozen eyes staring back at him. “Kill us if it was turned around, wouldn’t ya?”“Weasley, if we kill them, despite the immense wanting of both you and me to do so, they’ll know we were here and that’s no good of any of us.” Draco finally spoke, a first of him considering him and Ronald had been at each other's throats for most of their existence.“Ron-” Hermione started, but it mattered nothing as Ron turned around on them angrily. “Suppose they did Mad-Eye or George. How’d you feel then!?” Ron spat before turning his gaze back onto Dolohov before Harry spoke. “It’s better we wipe their memories.”“For once, I agree with you.” Draco squeezed his hand before he turned to his side. “Granger, you are the cleverest out of us with spells. You do it.”✨
I Fall,You Fall,We All Fall Down (Harry/Draco) CH4“Honestly, it’ll be a blessed day when that woman retires and stops slandering everyone in her path. It’s like she has nothing better to do.”“She doesn’t, but that Skeeter for you. A downright national treasure.” Draco hoped that the sarcasm he was putting in was showing through a little. “After the Triwizard, you had a lot of nightmares and would sleepwalk to Hufflepuff’s common room entrance. She used to come and fetch you and bring you back. So did I, on occasion when I wasn't able to be seen.”“I did?” Harry voiced confusedly once more in his direction and Draco nodded. “Yeah, you did. You couldn’t stop saying Cedric’s name in your sleep, nor Voldermort’s. You’d talk here and there, but we couldn’t really make out anything else except the names. You’d also talk like your parents were still there, given you saw them when you were trapped in that graveyard.” The blonde-haired man sighed. “Eventually it got to the point where you weren’t sleeping and Granger had to make several sleeping droughts just so you’d get a couple of hours.”“I still tried though, to keep us together. I tried-” Harry protested and Draco shushed him. “You did try. We still had our meetings together. Some nights when you refused your drought, we’d go and sit up on one of the tower roofs and just talk about nothing.”“It was never about nothing, you laughing was a rare sight. I’m glad I got to see it without all that forced pomp and grandeur behind it.” Harry smiled, but then it fell. “Where did the idea to memory charm me into forgetting you come into play?” He hesitated to ask the question, as he felt like it would hurt Draco.However, he only saw a flicker of emotion on his face when he admitted. “After Sirius died.”✨ Harry was shattered. Beyond it, in fact. While Dumbledore had saved him from the press and ministers that wanted to practically devour him information-wise, he hadn't saved him from the immense guilt he felt from not killing Bellatrix Lestrange to avenge his godfather. He didn’t know how many more people he had to lose to live in some gray area of peace in the world that had taken so much from him. First his parents, then Cedric, then Alastair, now Sirius. His only family other than the Dursley’s, who practically weren’t family at all, finally wiped out to a degree where he felt all hope was lost. That worry of losing more people soon turned his thoughts to Draco, once he was finally left alone in his own company. Draco was more important than even his grieving over his godfather, despite the hurt that came along with that fact. Draco was still alive, but how long would that be before he too would be killed? Ever since the Order had taken him in, he’d had to very carefully meet with Draco in private when they could and those meetings had been few and far between, usually placed after Snape’s Occlumency sessions that left him drained and with a headache that he couldn’t shake for days, lest Draco understandingly did his best to lesson it in the short time. If it wasn’t his every move that would get Draco killed, it would be his own father, as being a Death Eater, both former and currently, only had one result to work towards and it wasn’t a hopeful one, no matter what his mother or anyone around him would feel or think. There was also the other side of things where one of the other Death Eaters might go after Draco as well, should his father not go through with it or Voldemort deemed him some kind of problem to be dealt with,a fear that hadn’t even occurred to him until now. He really hadn't wanted to make this kind of decision, but the feelings boiling inside him like a brewing cauldron had decided for him, reaching for a nearby piece of paper and pen. Hopefully, the Ministry wasn’t intercepting uncommon looking owls for the time being. ✨“You owled Hermione and pleaded with her to somehow disarm me and use the memory charms to wipe you away if things got to that point, which you thought at that time was right then and now. She convinced you not to and said she would if it came to it, but first try and see reason for a while longer before thinking about doing something like that.”“So it didn’t happen then?”“No, thankfully. Somehow your self-sacrificing brain managed to stop you from doing something dumber than normal for once and you put that plan on the back burner for a while till you came up with a different one that didn’t involve purging people’s minds.” “Let me guess, all the other plans were either too stupid or never going to work?”“Correct. Given you were staying with the Weasley’s, you didn’t owl me for almost the whole summer till we saw eachother in Diagon Alley when Father was arrested and I was chaperoning to my mother for the day. I confronted you on the train, however, not there.”✨ Harry knew he couldn’t keep avoiding Draco forever. He was a little shook up at seeing him in Diagon heading for Knockturn Alley, but hated himself for the look in his eyes. It was hopefulness, as much as it was fear and a smattering of hurt that made him feel more guilty than he already had hovering over him from everyone else. While Hermione and Ron talked out of earshot, Harry quickly donned the Invisibility Cloak and snuck from the Gryffindor carriage through the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw carriages and made it to the top carriages where the Slytherin students were either resting or studying. Locating Draco quickly, it only took 3 sharp pulls on his suit sleeve to get his attention and seemingly knowing it was him, got up from his seat and headed towards the bathroom, him following behind only to take the cloak off and be aggressively kissed within an inch of his life with his back pressed up against the sink before being let go, breathless. “Where the hell have you been?!” Draco whisper-yelled at him and Harry shook his head.“I had to be put into protection away from Muggles and so the Ministry and Death Eaters couldn’t find me, I wasn’t able to send you any owls to tell you I was okay. I’m sorry.” “Well thank you for putting me into a panic.” The normally unflustered wizard looked rather irate. “Before yesterday, I wasn’t even sure if you had somehow heavily Scourgifyed within an inch of your life and were lying in a cell in Azkaban for perjury.” “Not like they would be able to get to me with the amount of people hovering around me to keep both my sanity and safety in check. I swear it’s like they think I'm going to go on a rampage or something like /him/ just because things have happened to me that no normal wizard should have been able to endure, let alone go through in only a few years.” “You have been through a lot.” Draco’s face came close to his, his pale hands cupping his similarly coloured jaw and cheeks. “Too much. I heard about Black. He was related to my mother. I’m sorry he left you. I know how much he meant to you considering those Muggles you live with that should be strung up by their toes.” “Yeah.” Harry sighed, unwilling to continue the subject line about his uncle any longer. If he did, he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to get out of this bathroom, let alone off this train, so he just asked Draco what he did that summer (if he did anything) and let him entertain him with stories for the few moments they had together. He wouldn’t dare ask Draco about his father either, as he knew that without him around, Draco was a different man and rightly so and he liked that. Both were so engrossed in conversation that it surprised them when they felt the train slow down and turned their heads suddenly as they heard the stopping whistle of the Hogwarts Express as it started to pull into the station. Turning to him, Draco smiled wryly before nodding. “You should get back to your carriage.” “Yeah, definitely.” Harry nodded quickly, picking the cloak up from the toilet seat where he had left it as they stood parallel to each other. “I’ll see you later? When I can?” “You’d better, Potter.” Draco glared at him, but with no heat behind it. “I’m in too deep with you now to consider letting you get away from me. You’re lucky I don’t use a body-bind curse on you one day and keep you as an ornament for myself.” Ron and Hermione would ask why he was smiling later as they got out of the train once he returned, but he just shrugged. “Just thinking about your mother’s cooking, Ron.” ✨
I Fall,You Fall,We All Fall Down (Harry/Draco) CH3“We exchanged letters all summer.” Harry spoke breathlessly, his head spinning with the information he was starting to let stream in. “Somehow you sent them with a different owl than your own so your father wouldn’t be able to intercept them or know that you were even corresponding with me. We promised to try and be friends of some kind when we returned to Hogwarts because we didn’t agree on a lot.”“Yeah, we did, but that didn’t really work out.” Draco shrugged. “We were never meant to be friends, I’m pretty sure, given as soon as we saw each other without others around-”“-I dragged you into a secret passage that I knew and we snogged for an hour after you attempted to push me away from you before we went and snuck into Hogsmeade that night and had a butterbeer together in the corner where no one could see us.”“That’s right.” Draco nodded, seemingly pleased, but still rather weary as he watched Harry’s face tick a little as he was trying to make sense of all of this. “We started meeting up out of sight after that, especially when my father got involved in things he shouldn't have been, like Buckbeak’s execution, when Hermione found out about us.”“Wait, no, you were with two other students. You were laughing about it.”“I can assure you I was not. Just because the brute thing scraped me up doesn’t mean I hated it.” Draco grit his teeth, eyes now somewhere further away than Kings Cross or even Hogwarts could be. “I was being impulsively stupid to cover up what I was really feeling to save my reputation and I told Father that, but he never listens to a word me or Mother say anymore since Voldemort returned. Even before that.”“I’m sorry.” Harry had to apologize,but Draco just shook his head. “Don’t be. I’ve told you a hundred times I’m used to it.” The silence stretched between them before Harry suddenly laughed and Draco looked confused. “What’s so funny?”“She wasn’t very bloody happy about it, was she?”Draco smiled cheekily, even though it was still twisted with something Harry couldn’t identify. “Not in the slightest, thankfully Ronald is oblivious to everything or otherwise, I would have expected both of them to come charging on me like a pack of dogs.” ✨ “Are you sure there was nothing you could do?” As soon as Harry had gotten the news from Hagrid that Buckbeak was sentenced to death, he’d sought out Draco as best he could while keeping the trail off from his friends. Of course, meeting up on the grounds wasn’t the best idea on the execution date, but they’d managed somehow and were now hiding behind some stones next to the stairs that led down to Hagrid’s Hut, whispering between each other, hoping they couldn’t be seen. “I did try, but you know my father. Once something either minor or major claws under that skin of his, he’s never going to let it go. Especially if it involves me, given I’m supposed to be the “example of what Pure-Bloods are meant to be” or whatever.“ Draco sneered, shaking his head. “Mother said as soon as the mediwitches oweled him about me being scratched, he’d started proceedings immediately. It was like he was waiting for a moment to strike.” “Lucius is always waiting to strike, Dre, you know that.” Harry reached out to palm his face in a moment of impulsiveness and Draco shuddered before he kissed the inside, looking dissolute. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him. Really I am.” “I know you are.” Hearing footsteps, Harry quickly took his hand away as Hermione and Ron appeared, Hermione all guns practically blazing as she stormed towards him. “You! You foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach!” She pushed him up against the rock with her wand to his neck, him shaking under it as Ron quickly sauntered next to Harry. “Hermione, no! He’s not worth it.” “Now listen, Granger.” Draco held up his hands. “I can assure you that whatever you saw, it was not what you were thinking. Me and Potter-” He spat the name in Harry's direction. “-were just having a little squif, given the circumstances. Nothing too insulting.” Hermione huffed, her nostrils flaring before she pulled him back to ground. “Ron, you start towards Hagrid’s. Me and Harry will follow you in a minute.” “Sure, whatever, just don’t kill him. You’d never survive in Azkaban.” Ron quickly sauntered off before Hermione could slap him and she turned back to them. “You two need to be more careful. Can you imagine what would happen if one of the pure-blood students saw you together? Draco would be punished a lot harder than you, Harry.” “Wait, you know?” Harry swallowed, a whole slew of bad scenarios flashing across his eyes as Draco just stood there aghast as Hermione just shrugged, still looking quite mad, but now with a softness in her eyes Harry had only seen around him, Ron or her parents. “Of course I do, you sneaking off isn’t new, but Draco-” She nodded in his direction. “Given what happened in first year, after that night we spent detention and Draco asked me to tutor him, I could see the change of behavior almost overnight. Despite being as pure-blood as you are, Draco, you can’t hide your emotions like most pure-bloods are trained to do from an early age. Or at least, you don’t want to, I'm guessing.” Neither boy knew what to say to each other before Draco blew out a breath that condensed in the cold afternoon air. “She’s bloody smarter than Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff put together, christ.” Guess that was the highest honour Draco could give to someone. “Hush it, Draco, though I thank you for the compliment.” Hermione nodded, but still looked rather concerned. “I won’t tell Ron, given he’s a menace as it is and this will just make him so much worse, but I’ll have to do something to make him see I’m supposed to be insulting you before we catch up with him on the grounds, so sorry for this.” Before anyone could blink, Hermione went and threw a hook that landed on the side of Draco’s temple, making him stumble back, but not in pain. Guess she knew where to hit so it wouldn’t hurt him, but it would leave a mark. Still, knowing that Weasley was most likely eyeing them, he pretended that it did, making Harry smirk as he pretended to run off, yelling about how his father would hear about this and all sorts of obscenities, before he and Hermione shared a look between them and started moving quickly. ✨ “She kept it a secret, despite how much it could have hurt you and brought you down.”“She also patched me up that time I got turned into a ferret while the whole school hated you instead of me and my whole house for once.”“That’s a lot like her, yeah.” Harry had to agree. Hermione could qualify for sainthood at this point, whether she and anyone else that had met her and had the privilege of her being in their lives would know it.“She even covered for us when that damned Skeeter journalist woman tried to get into the tents at the Triwizard and saw you talking to me.”✨ “Psst, psst?” The whispered male sounding voice came from one of the tent flaps nearby and Harry, ever so curious, stood still as he tried to listen. “Potter, is that you?” “Yeah.” He kept his voice low so that the others, Krum, Fleur and Cedric couldn’t see or hear him as they waited for their turns against the dragons that would be coming soon. There was a silence before the voice, clearly Malfoy given his last name being pronounced so heavily, hesitantly asked. “How are you feeling, Potter?” “I'm…” He honestly wasn’t sure how he felt. Scared shitless? Annoyed? “...I’m alright, Dre.” “The key to this whole bloody ponyshow is to concentrate.” Draco spit, thankful that Harry couldn’t see the look of fear itching on his face as he spoke. “It’s not your best skill, but if you can get the hang of it, after that is just-” “Battle a dragon, yeah, I’m aware.” “Of course you bloody are.” Draco was silent for another few moments before he reached under the tent flap and sought out Harry’s hand, holding it tightly. “You better not die on me Potter or I swear to god, I’ll find your grave and incendio your bones to ash.” Harry wanted to respond, but a sudden flash of a camera made him jump, seeing Rita Skeeter standing there, looking lovingly at him. “Ah, young love. So who might this be? Harry Potter and his secret partner? Do tell me all!” Draco had already let go of his hand by the time the old hag was sauntered out. ✨
Worth The Wait (Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor) Like a fighter and the only other broken-hearted I’ve been spending my life building walls to guard this This was it. Mark wasn’t ever sure this day would actually come anytime soon, given everything he’s been through so far in his just over 30 years on the planet, but it’s here and it’s happening and nothing was going to ruin it for him. Little bit of love that I’ve got left from the ones before you who took the rest And all those not meant to be’s added up to you and me He’s standing nervously underneath an arch of white roses and white and gold balloons, artfully decorated with white drapery woven though that almost makes it look ethereal as it flutters in the cool breeze that sweeps though every few minutes, its surroundings in the middle of Sierra La Verne Park assisting in that endeavor. Along with the arch, the white chairs, hedges and some of the trees are also covered in the same cloth, but the attention is more on himself and not the fairy lights blinking above everyone like little fireflies as sudden music signals the arrival of the real star of the show, his breath leaving him as he watched and waited. With every mistake, I was paving my way to you With every heartache, every dream that didn’t come true His heart pounding, Mark eyes the entrance to the sandy path just adjacent to his feet as Jason appears with Mika on his arm, the pale blue of her dress contrasting with the black and white roses in her bouquet, one of which sits not only in Jason’s pocket, but his own as well, bright against the black pinstripe vest and white shirt it’s pinned to, Bob helping with that as they had been getting dressed at his home that morning. (He’d been too shaky to do it himself.) Didn’t see it then, but I know it now I was falling up, I wasn’t falling down Speaking of Bob, he’s next to emerge, along with his wife Mandy, then it’s Lixian and Amy (the latter of whom kisses Mark on the cheek before she fits into her spot), Andrew and his girlfriend, then Marcus and Rachel, then Wade and his wife Molly, before finally (finally!), the music changes once again. You were right on time, not a second too late And baby, you were worth the wait, worth the wait Mark’s entire lung function ceases to exist once he sees Ethan standing at the end of the path with his parents on either side of him. He looks so fucking beautiful, his blue and green suit practically screaming at everyone to look at him as he moved, a golden leafed crown of black and white roses placed delicately on his head and one also in his pocket like every other person as everyone in the small crowd of friends they’ve invited stand to attention. Like a ten-foot tidal wave, you came without warning You swallow me up, now I’m lost in every moment Thankfully before he can kneel over at the sheer might of how the fucking fuck is any of this shit real, they catch eyes and it’s like he’s floating on air now, all the nervousness he’d been feeling for almost a week falling away in chunks and clenched fists dropping like stones as Ethan’s eyes well up at the sight of him, but he also grins in tandem as his mother and father take his hands and they start moving towards him. I’m drowning in your eyes, your touch, your kiss Never thought I’d ever find a love like this It feels like an eternity before Ethan is finally at the end of the path and music slows to a stop to let the semi-quiet back in again, his person mere inches away from Mark’s face and body and hands and all the things he wants to touch him with, but he knows he can’t. Not yet and definitely not here. Now I know with every mistake, I was paving my way to you With every heartache, every dream that didn’t come true When his parents let go of him, Mark quickly took up the slack left behind, Ethan’s shaking hands in his own as they stand opposite eachother, both equally not wanting to start crying and totally fuck up their own ceremony. However, it’s not long before the waterworks not only start on Mark’s side, but Ethan’s side as well, audible sniffles from the audience also chiming in as the celebrant starts to read. Didn’t see it then, but I know it now I was falling up, I wasn’t falling down “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in a spectacular part of Los Angeles, California, to wed these two perfect souls together as one going forward in the future.” You were right on time, not a second too late And baby, you were worth the wait, worth the wait “Mark Edward Fischbach and Ethan Mark Nestor-Darling met officially in 2014 and it was clear that according to friends, there was something special between them. Over the years that passed, romance soon blossomed, as well as bruises thanks to Ethan as, during their first kiss, he preceded to accidentally punch Mark in the face.” Everyone, including Mark and Ethan, died laughing at the joke, tension fizzled out by the time they were asked to say their vows. Every mistake was worth the wait And every heartache was worth the wait “Mark, my best friend, my short stack hunk of fun and owner of my heart and everything it gives out. I wonder what would have happened, had I not found the balls to go up to you and do that backflip at PAX East. I wonder where I would be, who I’d be with, what my life would have been like - but that no longer matters as right now, I would take a thousand lifetimes and never live them, if only to live this one lifetime with you as your partner, forever by your side.” Yeah, every mistake, I was paving my way to you With every heartache, every dream that didn’t come true “Ethan, my dear, the sweet yet diabolical key to my heart. Usually, I’m no good with things like emotions, I never have been a man of sappy words and even sappier occasions, but as I stand here before you now, opening up a vulnerable side of me and asking you to be bonded to me for the rest of our lives, I can’t help but think how fucking lucky I am to not only know you, but to be the one to take you as my own and live with you and our growing family, whatever it may become, in the future that is from this moment onwards.” Didn’t see it then, but I know it now I was falling up, I wasn’t falling down Mark’s ring finger had never felt so warm when Ethan’s smaller ones curled his newly minted gold wedding ring around it, feeling the shakiness of Ethan’s excitement already starting as he did the same to him, both fighting the urge not to let go as they pulled back from the other. You were right on time, not a second too late And baby, you were worth the wait, worth the wait “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you as of this day, Mr and Mr Mark Fischbach!” Oh baby, you were worth the wait, worth the wait Sure, there was spontaneous applause that suddenly erupted from the small crowd of people in front of them, there as cheering and dumping of rose petals which Mark felt vaguely against his cheek and hands, but he couldn’t really care less as his lips were too busy kissing his husband (his husband!) to near gagging point, before they broke apart nosily with a burst of giggles and raucous laughter following as they raised their clasped together hands to more cheers before the wedding party all headed out towards the reception in the building next door to dance the night away, the day still a fresh memory in their minds despite the mind-numbing amounts of alcohol. When Mark and Ethan woke up the next morning for their flight to Korea, they just turned to each other and sleepily smiled. That day was most definitely worth the wait.
~TWOODKRO~ (Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej)
Two years. It’s been two years since that damned virus got loose and the world hasn’t been the same since. At first, he was disbelieving, but now looking outside from where the slope of the mountain tumbles into the fog and darkness below in the early light of day, he finds himself unable to be sceptical anymore.It sucks balls, more than anything and it almost swallows him up some days, lest he manages to fight his demons off for another hour, but now it’s personal.Too personal.The house they’ve been living in the last six months was obviously abandoned a long time ago, some rich folk most likely clutching their pearls and wealth thinking it would save them in a fucking pandemic as they packed up their Bently or Chevolt’s or whatever and fled.He doesn’t mean to hope they’re dead and they’ve somehow learnt their lesson, but it happens to wash over him right now as he pulls together a collection of shitty sandwiches with the bread and canned goods and such he’s managed to scour from the abandoned bodega down the road from where he’s dragged them to hide from the authorities.He knows that they’re looking for them, as well as probably others who have somehow ended up in the same boat, but it doesn’t matter. They won’t find them up here, or so he hopes.It’s not much of a place to be, in the hills of California, but it’s safe. It’s hidden.Perhaps if they were back home, well in his home, in the Midwest, things would be different.But they aren’t in Chicago and they have no family to rely on, no friends either as most have died or hidden themselves away under curfew and curtains, so they just have to go with it.Plus if anyone did know where they are, it’s safe to stay they wouldn’t be alive for very long.Picking up the plate of food in the present, he trudges from the kitchen, through the living room and down an unlocked door that leads to a basement, as dark and wide as the city below them and he stands there, heart-pounding and mouth dry.He doesn’t mean to flinch, when he sees a movement out the corner of his eye, but turns towards it fast, biting his lip as he watches, swallowing.“How are you doing today?”The dark corner is practically calling him as he stands at the door, hoping, praying that he’ll hear a response back still, that this won’t be the day he has to run for his life and-“How the fuck do you think I’m doing?”The voice he gets in return is soft, croaky and sad, but it makes his shoulders ease and his breath wheeze as it leaves his chest, relieved.“Just thought I’d ask.” “It doesn’t matter, Shane. Nothing does anymore.”It hits him like a slap in the face and he takes almost 3 strides forward, soothing words about to spill from his lips before there’s a hiss and he stops, hesitant.“I thought I told you to stay away from me.”“Yeah, well, I’m hungry and I don’t exactly think that my boyfriend, whom I love very much, should be sitting alone in a basement while I eat without him.”“I’m not the one who is hiding my boyfriend from law enforcement.”“I’m not the one trying to save my boyfriend from-” It’s slightly angry, but it dies out as soon as there’s a movement and he’s in the light, seething mad.“You can’t save me, so fucking stop it!”God, it’s spread and he hates having to admit that. It’s fucking spread. His arm is a haze of blackened and tanned skin, the bandage that he’d tied around the bite wound he’d gotten while they were on patrol worn and grubby.One of his eyes has gone, it must have happened during the night as they were both there yesterday morning, the dark brown eclipsed by cloudy solid whiteness drowning in the black smudges around it. It makes him swallow, once again, but he’s not afraid. Not yet.“I know that, but I’m trying to.” Shane’s voice is quiet and in front of him, he sees the despair on his lover’s face, the shards of himself trying desperately not to crack more in front of him as he knows Shane will try to pick up the pieces, but it’s too dangerous now.“You can’t.” His voice is raw as he tries not to lose it in front of him. “It’s...it’s almost to my brain, you can’t save me now. Why won’t you just throw me outside and let me go?”“Because I fucking love you!” It’s explosive, he doesn’t mean it to be, but it’s like a fire roaring through his veins. “I told you, 3 fucking weeks ago, that I would be with you until the end!”“Not like this!” His voice is screaming at him, heartbroken. “I didn’t want this, I just want it to be over, Shane, I can’t do this anymore! I can’t watch you try anymore!”“Then has this been all for nothing!?” Shane’s pissed, but his voice comes out so uncharacteristically quiet. “Has this-me, finding this place, fighting off the police, killing a guy in cold blood who was going to report us, been all for nothing, Ryan?”He watches, listens as his boyfriend just stands there, ragged breathing stark in the cold quiet of the place, before it turns into a quiet sob and Shane steps forward, wrapping him up in his arms despite the possibility he could be bitten at any moment or worse.He can feel the hands clutching at his shirt on his back and the weeping in the collar, but he doesn’t move, he just kisses a kiss to the black hair underneath his nose and rocks him slowly, eyes closed as the sun starts slipping down into the haze of fog below.Todays not the day, no. Thankfully not.But he can’t say the same about tomorrow.
IMACOCBYG,OTPO (Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej)
He knows it’s been a while, since he’s been here. Fair play, the /look/ that most of his old coworkers had given him the day of really made it so much harder. He was always a stickler for emotions and that day….that fucking day, it was like a goddamn ocean.Swallowed him up and then cruelly, spat him out without so much as an oar or a map or clue of what the hell to do or where the hell to go from here. He supposes that despite having been there through everything, it’s also as if he was never there at all, or worse, a spectator, watching and thinking and feeling and unable to stop what was coming.He hasn’t been fully back in his own head since it happened, it’s been three months, maybe longer if he really analyses the time passing between the last time he heard gravel as fine and grayscale as the stuff he’s currently walking to his destination on flicking his jeans and shoes to-~walking, no, /running/ on LA’s sun-drenched shores, Steven five steps behind him when he outright tackles him, the salt and the sand and the water mingling with the tears on his face as he keeps pushing at him, screaming at him to ‘let him go’, struggling as he pleads with him to just let go of him-~His own voice, despite, pained, broken, haunts him, but only when he’s alone.Maybe Steven as well, if he’s honest with himself. He doesn’t know how he’s managed to keep him from doing worse this long.Wasn’t like he didn’t have a reason for doing anything anymore, despite that being the truth.~“Hey.” His head turns to look distantly at the figure on the bed that calls him, big brown eyes drawing him in like a rope being pulled, even if it’s weaker than it once was before and his own eyes are a thousand miles away in a past that doesn’t matter now. “You better not be beating yourself up over there. I know you. All too well.”“All too well.” The sentiment is echoed, covered over by a warm smile as fake as the denial that rises up in his chest at the way the look that’s given in return get under his skin and goes straight to the moneymaker in his chest, making it ache.~Fuck. Fuck, why did it have to be him, of all people? Of all people that could possibly get sick, in Los Angeles, in California, in the whole of the goddamn United States and the world, was he picked out of everyone to get sick?~“You don’t have to do this, you know.” There’s a buzz in his left ear as the voice, shaky and full of ache and exhaustion, speaks by his side as the arm around his neck twitches.“I want to.” It comes out as a whisper, but that’s all they need between them, a kiss exchanged form one to the other’s forehead in stark protest.“I’ll all limbs, I’m surprised you even got this far with me.”“I told you 6 years ago that you were stuck with me, can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m like a demon that’s possessing your lanky ass.”“Demons aren’t real, sweetheart.”“Fucking bite me, asshole.”~It wasn’t fair.He remembers saying that to Steven, when he wakes up later in his apartment after their beach romp. It isn’t fair. It’s obvious that he’s seen everything, given he’s been changed into sleep clothing and can barely see thanks to how swollen his eyes are from crying, but the scars martyring his wrists for the last 2 weeks aren’t invisible, as much as he wishes they would be for both their sakes.Steven suggests, quite gently despite his usual nature, along with Andrew (bastards, the both of them, at least you have who you fucking love, his mind seethes venomously) that he get help, go see someone who can fix him up, patch up the clear holes he’s made for himself in the wake of everything.It’s not that fucking easy.~“It’s not that fucking easy to forget, you know!” His voice bellows across the room, disarray surrounding him and chaos, anger, sadness, the whole works practically jumping off of him as he just stands there, breathless.“Forget what? What do you mean? I thought you were like, in a coma or something being you were sick and all and Steven was jumping on my ass cause you didn’t call this morning and no one’s seen you in the last like, 3 days-”“I’m dying, Ryan. Fucking- goddamnit, I’m dying, okay? That stupid doctor I went to called me back and told me I’m dying. Congratulations.”The blood is suddenly so loud in his ears that he doesn’t hear his heart start to break.~It’s still a bitter pill to swallow. That revelation. The diagnosis. His heart was failing, something wrong with the way it looked and sounded and more. They didn’t know what at first, only that it was bad and progressing rapidly. They eventually figured it out. Viral Cardiomyopathy. Caused indirectly by the flu. One in a million chance of it happening. The fucking flu killed his best friend.~“What the hell do you mean you won’t get a transplant?!” He can’t fathom, no, cannot believe what he’s hearing right now. Only a few days ago, he’d just found out his best friend was fucking dying and now, as soon as a viable option popped up, he said no!?“There’s no point, Ry.” There’s that damned pensive smile again, the one that made him fall head over heels for him almost 4 years ago now and want to kick himself in the shin since.“The only thing they can do is put me on the transplant list, there’s no one around who has a heart. Go figure. So what’s the point of signing my life to a series of statistics and numbers?”He fucking hates that he has a point and the anger burning his veins proves that. He wants to say something, hell, he wants to raise a fuss, holler and smack some /sense/ into him, but he knows that he’s already making sense and the exhaustion is evident in his voice as he finally speaks, teeth clenched and eyes suspiciously wet, but rapidly drying.“Fine. I trust you. I always trust you.”Trust is a very stupid thing to cry over at 12:00 am in your apartment’s bathroom, he found.~37 days. 37 days after that appointment, he was gone. 4 days later, his funeral was held and now, 93 days after that, here he finally was.Just as he promised he would be, a little late, but...it didn’t matter.Heart hammering in his chest, he finally makes it to the west side of the cemetery, squinting to make out the words on the grave as the sun splinters its rays through the trees covered around the patch of land like bodyguards of the dead.SHANE ALEXANDER MADEJ 16th of May, 1986 - 4th February, 2023A friend to all and a heart bigger than most. Beloved son of Mark and Sherry, brother to Scott, loving husband of Ryan and father of Obi REST IN PEACEOh yeah. That.~He knew that he didn’t have long to go now. He’d been carrying him in and out of bed lately, practically living in his apartment, yet still paying the rent on his own, his best friend’s body seemingly too exhausted to be bothered to work properly anymore.Stubbornly, he wanted to will his body into working, to fighting his heart and fixing him and keeping him here with him and Obi, but he knew that was selfish on them both, no matter how either felt about the impending death lingering in the distance.It’s in the middle of the afternoon, fittingly, where this stupid, mad idea comes up.“Marry me.” He suddenly blurts out, as he watches him watching the TV.There’s a hitch of breath and a weak stare from his bed as he just looks at him. “W-What?”“Marry me.” His tone is more serious now and he’s somehow ended up on his knees beside him on the bed, dark eyes staring straight at him. “Please.” It’s begging now.He doesn’t know just how, but something falls over his face, like he’s going to burst into tears before that smile, that damn smile, is back and it’s weak like the rest of him, but it’s there and it’s tangible as he rasps out. “Okay.”Ultimately, against any and all advice from any medical professional on the planet, Sara (who is an angel, literally and figuratively) is coerced into driving as they lie in the back of the car, the smell of the metallic-like synthetic oxygen puffing from the nasal cannula in Shane’s nose stark in the new car smell that Sara’s vehicle seems to always have, but they couldn’t care less.4 hours later, there’s a heap of missed calls from Steven and Andrew and Curly and so many fucking people, but he only cares from the tears running down both his and Shane’s cheeks and the feeling of cold metal both on his finger and resting against his leg, the dizzying lights of Vegas almost sending them into a spiral if it weren’t for Sara bringing them to their senses.The rings aren’t perfect, just some basic gold bands that he shelled out practically his entire savings account for, but the look on his now husband’s face made it all stop hurting.If only for a moment.~Gingerly, he stands there for almost 5 minutes before he walks over to the now slightly older looking soil, to the stone marked with Shane’s name and drops a wreath of Sampaguita* onto the stone, the pure white of the petals almost making the whole dark and deary feel of the place somehow brighter, but he’s not quite finished yet.Ever the believer, from the pockets of his coat, he produces a spirit box and settles it onto the stone’s ledge where the wealth lies against it, the wind trickling though a little as he switches it on, stepping back with his hands shaking.“Hey, big guy.” There’s a beat and the noise that both are familiar with suddenly dies down, it’s quiet, too quiet, before-“...Hey, little guy.”
It's something the crawls up his spine-a prickling sensation-a reminder.
And Chris smiles in response-eyes bright and all Zach has to do is close his eyes to see them, to picture them.
"You really think so?" He nods his head in response, voice caught in his throat before he realizes that Chris can't see him-that he's miles away and they are just talking on the phone.
"Yeah-I watched it, you did great." The older man swallows-tries not to let his mind wander, to keep it focused on the conversation at hand.
"I was so nervous too, with everyone staring at me..." Zach gives a slight chuckle at this-ignores the look Milo is giving him from the car. He turns away, takes a few steps and stops. "But you were great, and you looked good to."
"Thanks..." Chirs's response is soft, a tone that sends chills up Zach's spine and out to his finger tips, one that makes him tingly and giddy all at once. "How are you doing?" The younger man's voice is laced with a contented sigh, one that says so m
They are lying in bed, and it's late-really late.
Zach is propped up against the wall, staring at the curtains on the other side of the room. Chris is lying on the bed next to him, face buried in the pillow, a low hum in the back of his throat. Zach's fingers are running though his short hair-over it really, in something akin to a petting motion.
It is in moments like this-between the filming of movies-between the hustle and bustle of day to day life that Zach loves the most.
"You should get to...bed..." Chris's voice is dulled and low-a mere rumble in his throat. Blue eyes are pulled open-glow brightly in the dark room.
"I will in a moment." Zach slips farther down in the sheets, turns his eyes from the ceiling towards Chris.
And they smile-because they know, because Chris understands. They shift on the bed, the younger man rolls onto his side and Zach scoots up behind him, wraps his arms around him.
"Any plans for tomorrow?" The blonds voice is still dulled-half asleep.
Poison -Peter and Sylar-
Poison: a substance with an inherent property that tends to destroy life or impair health, something harmful or pernicious, as to happiness or well-being.
Peter's eyes snapped open, going from content sleep to wide awake almost instantly. Sweat covered his forehead, and his breaths came out in pants as he pushed himself up in bed, leaning against the headboard. "Damn it not again," Peter muttered, banging his head against the wall. He had thought, had hoped that when the dreams had stopped a month ago, that they were gone for good, apparently not. At least this time, it hadn't been one of the more interesting dreams. They ranged in content from the cute stuff that would be right out of a 'chick flick,' to the ones that involved pain and blood, to the ones that would send him straight to hell. It was those nights that nearly made Peter want
Comforting Embrace -CasGabe-The faintest hint of a frown passed over Castiel's lips his eyes staring at the light coming through the motel window, as the wind bit at what bare skin was visible. He could not understand how the brothers could fight like that, not with everything that was at risk. How it was possible that Dean and Sam could fight like that, and, when Castiel had tried to get them to stop and calm down, turn around and blame Castiel for everything. It was not his fault the situation they were in, or at least he hoped it wasn't.
The brothers were currently fighting about Dean's drinking, something that seemed trivial to Castiel, but apparently was cause enough for Sam to finally confront Dean which ended in them fighting. When it had looked like Dean was about to strike Sam, was when Castiel had stepped in and received a right hook to his jaw. That was when Dean turned on Castiel, saying that he was on Sam's side and that if it wasn't for the whole damn apocalypse then maybe he wouldn't have this prob
Welcome to #Slashers-Club! This club/group is for people who likes male/male and/or female/female pairs.
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