the break-up

They've been in NY for over three weeks already and he still can't manage a sleeping schedule that doesn't end up in restless three am's. Judging from the shy ray of light slipping under his bedroom door, he's not the only one who's still living on a caffeine high. Silently praying Fitz didn't just fall asleep with the lights on, Nate walks out of his room. 

There's pencils and pens scrawled all over the floor, and Fitz is sitting cross legged on the couch in an ocean of sketchbooks. He's drawing, his tongue between his teeth and his brow slightly furrowed. The second Nate sits down next to him, his face shifts instantly, a wide grin breaking through. It's so natural, the way he leans against him, pressing up against his side as if gravity was pulling him towards him. They stay quiet. The silence around them is comfortable, almost cosy, wrapping them up and keeping them warm.

Looking over his shoulder, Nate sees Fitz is drawing them again. It's a thing he does when the world isn't being kind to them, turning their real life adventures into fights worthy of being featured in proper comic books. Turning homesickness into a villain with tentacles, because it's way easier to fight things you can see and touch. Nate gets it, more than he knows, since it's a lot like what he does when he gets into fights. He wishes he could explain this to Fitz, that he could see how it's just the only way he knows of dealing, of letting things out. Even if it is a lousy way, it's all he knows how to do.

In the frame that Fitz is coloring, Nate sees himself punching the bad guys with his super strength, Fitz hiding behind a bench, yelling what he assumes will be words of encouragement. He lifts his eyes and meets Fitz's, knowing already what he'll find there.

It's a love he doesn't deserve. How Fitz looks at him as if he was more than trash. How he seems to believe his getting into fights has some sort of noble undertone to it, when it's really just him being too much of a coward to face his feelings and cracking under the pressure of keeping them all inside.

1 . nose kiss

Ever since she started working with Kate, the stuff Jane deals is top notch quality, but she still feels like she has to try it before selling it because her Chem teacher is baking meth and something is going to go wrong very soon, so she needs to check that it isn't the product what gets screwed up first. Plus, so far it's been fucking amazing. And Jane doesn't like sharing, but she keeps running into Clary and every time she looks like her whole world is falling down around her, and the invitation rolls off her lips before she can even think about it. She probably wouldn't do it if she could get her brain to work properly around the redhead, because she's been pushed away far too many times, and her pride should keep her from trying to get this girl to like her so hard, but she just can't. So there they are again, in the same playground they always end up in, and this time Kate has outdone herself because they've been there for like five minutes -or maybe an hour? She can't tell.- and they're already incredibly gone. Clary is giggling with her face buried in her neck, and sometimes being a junkie is pretty great. It's nice to hear her laughing, she looks like she cries a lot.

“How would you know that?”

Oh. So she'd said that out loud. She turns her face and looks at her, smiling softly because she looks so fragile sometimes, but still so tough, like she knows she's made of porcelain and will break if anyone sneezes near her, so she shields herself and grits her teeth at the world.

“I don't. But you do, don't you?”

“Yeah.”

She sighs and Jane isn't sure when they scooted up like this, but somehow she finds herself feeling Clary's breath on her lips and it sends a shiver down her spine. She's staring at her mouth now, and she knows Clary will never speak to her again if she does what she's dying to do, so instead, she leans in and kisses the top of her nose. It seems safe, that way she gets to touch her skin with her lips on an innocent manner and maybe her stomach will stop turning inside her, but Clary scrunches up her nose and giggles like she's five years old, and Jane thinks she couldn't possibly be more gone for this girl.

2 . firm kiss

They've been hanging out so much lately, Jane is starting to think maybe it's not as impossible as she thought it was. Maybe Clary doesn't hate her guts completely, and maybe she can find a way to talk her into thinking about doing all the things she wants to do with Ruby, with her. It's awful of her, because Ruby is a sweetheart, but she's come to hate her profoundly. In her eyes, she's got to be amazingly self centered if she honestly doesn't notice how Clary sighs when she walks by, how her eyes are always glued on her, and how she tugs at her sleeves to cover up things Jane can't bring herself to think about. She knows it's not true, she knows Ruby loves Clary and she knows she's had a rough life too, and she would be in complete shock and full of guilt if she knew all of those things, but when she catches Clary digging her fingernails into the palm of her hands until they bleed, hating Ruby comes easily. There's only so much of Clary longing after her she can take, and she wishes there was a way to make her snap out of it.

It's late, the bar's almost closing, and Clary is sitting all alone on a table, her feet hanging in the air, and she's, shockingly, staring at Ruby. Jane has all her stuff on her bag, and she's heading for the door when something comes over her and before she knows it, she's walking up to Clary and pressing her lips against her. She cups her face with her hands, and kisses her like the world might end if she doesn't get it right, lips brushing softly at first and then sucking on her bottom lip, running her tongue over it. Clary doesn't pull away, and she doesn't know if it's the shock or because she might actually like it, but she doesn't want to know either. Jane breaks the kiss, her eyes fixated on hers, and exhales deeply.

“See you around.”

She turns around and walks out, first stealing a glance and smiling proudly despite herself when she sees Ruby staring back at Clary, eyes wide open and biting her lip. Some part of her is scared she might have pushed them together, losing every chance she ever might have had with Clary, but if it makes her happy, she's good with that.

3 . jawline kiss

They haven't seen each other in a week, mostly because Jane has been avoiding her as much as possible. If she was into Clary before, after kissing her, she's all she can think about, and it freaks her out in a lot of ways because she doesn't do that. She doesn't obssess over girls. She's careless and a free spirit and free spirits don't spend all of their time thinking of tiny, gorgeous girls and how it would feel to wake up next to them, how they like their coffee and what they have for breakfast. So she stays away from Clary, trying to clear her head and get back to her usual self. Besides, she's really busy with the business growing so popular, so she barely has any time left to do anything. Her sleeping schedule is more fucked up than ever because it's gone from sleeping at weird times to not sleeping, ever, and it may have something to do with the fact that when she closes her eyes there's a face always there, so it's not very surprising when she falls asleep waiting for her coffee at her favorite cafe. She falls asleep on a lot of places, and this particular window seat is very comfortable, so she decided on resting her head on her arms for a little bit and she's fast asleep by the time Clary walks in.

She's been looking for her. Ever since they kissed, Clary's been thinking a lot about her. And the more she thinks about her, the less she thinks about Ruby, and Ruby's dating a very nice guy who seems to be interested in marrying her and keeping her in his pocket forever, so Clary thinks thinking as little as possible about Ruby as she can is the best thing she can do. So she looks for Jane, because Jane's fun and she actually likes her a lot even if she tries not to show it, ever. She spots her sitting in the corner of the very crowded place, and can't help but smile when she notices she's asleep. She crawls in the seat next to her, and brushes her arm with her fingertips, getting no response. She hadn't ever paid much attention to Jane, always so caught up in Ruby, and now that she gets to look at her from up close she kind of wants to kick herself because she's gorgeous and the way her eyelids flutter against her cheek, how she breathes in so deeply and her lips are slightly parted, everything about her is making Clary want to kiss her more than anything. But kissing a sleeping person doesn't seem like a good idea, no matter what Disney might say, so she just stares at her. The temptation is too big, and with the way she's resting on her arms, her neck is exposed, and Clary doesn't know what on Earth comes over her but somehow she finds herself planting soft kisses along her jawline, hot breath against her skin.

they think they know, because she likes to tell their story to everyone they meet, and people tend to assume that's all there is to them, because it's exactly what they look like from the outside. she's outgoing and full of life, and he's a loner who's usually glaring at people, so the story of how they found each other and fell in love and then almost broke up because he shut her out and ever since she's been his ray of sunshine is all people see in them.

but they don't know half of it.

they don't know that wasn't the only time they nearly broke up. they don't know she pulled away once too, pulled away for days that slowly turned into weeks, slowly cutting him out of her life little by little, and he noticed but didn't say anything because really, he'd known all along she'd realize how wrong she'd been thinking he could somehow be enough for her. so when he decided to say something about it, he knocked on her door with a sad smile and told her he understood, that it was okay, that he was happy about the time they'd shared together and he wanted her to have a better life than she could have ever had with him. they don't know she started crying because she hadn't expected him to draw such conclusions, or else she would have spoken up earlier and told him about all those nights she'd laid in bed thinking about how much she spoke and how much she whined and how he was so good to her, so patient, so kind, always listening and understanding and never complaining about his life even though he had it ten times worse than she had, and how at some point she'd convinced herself that he was going to get tired of her really soon and he was going to leave her and it would break them both because she knew he loved her but he wouldn't stand her anymore because who would, and he would be forced to walk out on their relationship, hurting them both, so she'd decided on doing it for him. they don't know how even though that night he stayed over, kissed her until the sun came out, reassuring her of how much he loved her exactly like she was, it took many more nights of it for her to believe it, and even so, there was and there is always a little lingering fear in her that he might one day give up on her, just like there is always a small voice on the back of his mind saying one day she'll realize she can do better.

they don't know that as soon as they started dating, they began texting each other every second of the day, and he picked up an extra shift at work to pay for his phone because he couldn't go more than half an hour without talking to her. they text each other everything they do, every little thing they feel, whatever goes through their minds, and they'll have the longest conversations like that, yet they still talk for hours when they finally see each other because they are so different that it's like they see life through lenses that focus on things the other doesn't notice at all, and it's just fascinating to see how the things they go through are suddenly renewed and painted in new colors when they talk about them.

they don't know that it took them a little while to say I love you, but after the first time, they decided on not saying it as a routine. they made an agreement to say it whenever they were overwhelmed by it, and it turned into the greatest thing about them, because they realized the things the other loved about them were tiny, ordinary aspects of their personality, and now no act of love goes unnoticed, no matter how little. there's I love you's late at night, when they are hiding under the blankets and waiting for their hearts to slow down and their lips are sore from kissing and their legs are tangled up and one of them will look at the other one and it's always there, sounding in the darkness of the room. there's I love you's in the early mornings, when he leaves her freshly made coffee before he goes to work and kisses her on the forehead, and there's I love you's late at night, when he comes home really late and finds a nice meal and a comforting pair of arms welcoming him into bed. there's I love you's written on post its on the fridge when he has to leave before she wakes up, but the last look he takes at her sleeping form on the bed makes him feel like he could fly into the sun and come back down in one piece, because their love would protect him from everything.

they don't know that they've talked about the future so much, that she already knows which color they'll paint the walls of their house, and he's even built shelves for her clothes that he keeps in a corner of his apartment. when it comes to them, everything feels natural, like being together is exactly what they were meant to do, so they don't doubt they'll have that future together. they know each other too well to be surprised by anything when the time comes to have a proper life together. he's always snippy in the mornings until he's had his coffee, she gets really emotional if she hasn't slept well, he puts too much sugar in his tea and she hates the smell of warm milk. they could write books about each other, full of tiny little facts they've picked up and saved carefully in the back of their minds, all of them details they've learned to love about one another.

I .

He doesn't think before walking into her room, he's done it a thousand times before, and he knocked first so he figures it's safe. Besides, what sort of person doesn't close the bathroom door when they're taking a shower? For a while, he just stands there, staring because they've been dating for a while but she's so tiny and they're so young and she's like a child most of the time, so it's always cute and fluffy but that's as far as it goes. Except now he can see the outline of her body against the shower curtain and well, she's not a child. She's a girl. With curves and everything. And it feels so wrong, because he can hear her belting out to some Backstreet Boys song and it reminds him of how very innocent she is, and he shouldn't be having these thoughts. Then she opens up the curtain and they stare at each other for about two and a half centuries, and just when his legs are starting to get shaky because no one can stay standing still for that long without that happening, she laughs.

“You're staring.”

He covers his eyes with his hands because that's a very mature thing to do, and doesn't look again until she's taking his hands away from his face.

“There's worse things than seeing your own girlfriend naked, you know. No need to look that regretful about it.”

She's smiling softly at him, but he can see she's a little hurt.

“I... I know. It just feels a little wrong. I mean... We're not there yet, right?”

He can't really read her expression right after he says that, and it's gone almost instantly, replaced by a warm smile. She nods and goes back into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

II .

She never gets drunk because there's always a match coming up she needs to train for the morning after, but one of her teams won something, he has no idea what, but some sort of championship has been won and they're celebrating and he can't blame her for drinking until she giggles at everything around her. He takes her home, because she can't walk in a straight line without someone holding her, and he's getting her into bed when she pulls him in with her. Somehow he falls down on top of her and before he knows it she's kissing him and tangling her legs with his, and he needs to stop it.

“Hey. No.”

She frowns, but it doesn't take her more than a second to start giggling.

“Come on. Please.”

She smells like vodka, but the way she rolls her hips against his makes him gasp.

“Fuck, Rory. No. Not like this, don't you want it to be special? This isn't special.”

“It's with you, that makes it special. Pete...”

Her brows are going to get stuck together if she keeps forwning like that.

“I'm sorry.”

He leaves the room and leans against the door as soon as he's closed it behind him, shutting his eyes tightly and fighting the urge to go back inside and just do whatever she wants him to do, because it's so hard to say no, but this isn't the way, and he has to be reasonable about this. He always needs to be reasonable. No matter how many hours he'll have to spend in the shower until he can get over how full of lust her voice was, and how hard she pressed against him.

III .

Avoiding her is impossible. He should know that by now, because trying to do it is just waste of time, since she always ends up finding him. Especially since he still works at her father's company. So he's not sure why he's surprised to find her sitting on his desk, headphones on, feet banging against the chair loudly enough to get her kicked out of the office if it wasn't because she's the boss's daughter. The look she gets in her eyes when she spots him is so easy to read, he feels like absolutely everyone around him knows exactly what's going on between them.

“It's fine if you don't want to.”

She blurts it out before he's even reached her, and he hurries towards her, shaking his head.

“I do want to. Of course I want to, why wouldn't I? I just think we should wait. Make sure we're ready for it. I don't want to push things.”

He says it as if he'd been the one doing it, even though he knows it's exactly the other way around, but he's the guy and he's the one who should be doing the pushing and she should be telling him to wait, but it's never normal between them.

“I'm just saying... I hadn't realized. I don't want to push it either, I get it if you're not ready.”

She said more things after that, but he's stuck at her first sentence and he raises an eyebrow so high he thinks it might fall from his face.

“What hadn't you realized?”

He asks slow and carefully, although he's sure he knows the answer already, and he's praying he's wrong because-

“That it would be your first.”

“Because it wouldn't be yours.”

“No.”

She looks at him, calm and collected, right in the eye, and he doesn't know how to react to that. He drops himself in his chair, his mind racing with so many thoughts it almost feels like it's gone blank from how blurry everything is.

“Okay. Just... call me.”

And then she's gone, and fuck. He hadn't realized it either.

IV .

“Who was it?”

“A friend.”

“Do you still see him?”

“Not really.”

“Were you friends then?”

“Yeah. Just friends.”

“Why did you do it?”

“I wanted to try it. And I wanted to make sure by the time I did it with someone and it actually meant something, I'd know what to do. And it wouldn't hurt or be messy or any of the things that a first time is for girls.”

“Oh.”

“It didn't mean anything. With you... it would mean literally everything.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

V .

He's still having issues with it, and now that he knows about this friend of hers, it's even more confusing. At times, she's still a child, and he feels terrible about having those thoughts about her. But she's studying right across from him, her hair falling over her face no matter how many times she tries to keep it tied up, her glasses so high up her nose it has to be hurting her, and she's holding her head up with her hand because she's gotten to a point at which if she doesn't do that, her head drops down and she falls asleep. And she's gorgeous. And a responsible grown up, and it's like a switch that turns the worrying off, and everything else on. Once again, he's been staring at her and she feels it and looks up.

“Do I have something on your face?”

“I think we should have sex.”

“Now?”

“No. But... soon.”

The grin that spreads across her face kind of makes him wish he'd said yes to now.

I .

It's the first time he's seen her dance. It's also the first time he meets the friend, and he has too many emotions boiling up inside him. A week has passed since he said soon, and he knows she's waiting patiently, but he's who he is, and he's been planning it and thinking through every detail and it seems like the right time will never come. But they go back to his apartment after her dance routine is over, and she's taking off her coat and he just can't do this anymore. He kisses her and pins her against the wall, holding her wrists with a little more strength than is necessary. She kisses back and he can feel her smiling against his lips and it's just the last thing he needed, because now he honestly can't stop himself. He lets go of her hands to wrap his arms around her waist, and she takes it as a hint to wrap hers around his neck and soon her legs are around his waist and he's not sure how she managed to do it, but he carries her to his bedroom because this is not the time to be thinking. This is the time to keep kissing her, his tongue licking every inch inside her mouth that it can reach, until it's covered it all and he needs to explore more, so he licks her earlobe, and her neck, and her collarbone. He plants kisses all over her, while her hands lift his shirt and he only stops so she can take it off. He kicks his shoes off, and when he tries to go back to kissing her, she pushes him and flips them over so she's on top. He starts to complain, but then she smirks and takes her top off, and all those dance lessons have made her very coordinated because she manages to do that while rolling her hips against his in a way that has him seeing stars.

“Fuck.”

“That's what I intend to do, yes.”

I .

She's like the sun, warm and shiny, and it would be just as dangerous to get close to her. He knows that much, but he's still drawn to her like a sunflower, his mind constantly turning to thinking of her, of her laugh, of her long, long hair in which he could probably lose himself in. So he goes meet her after his shift is over, and he takes her to Tim's, which is kind of a big deal to him because Tim's is where he hides away from the world and he never takes girls anywhere, but this one's special and it makes him want to run away as fast as he can, but also hold her hand and just never let her go. For the first time in many years, he walks her back to her apartment and doesn't even try to kiss her. And for the first time in many years too, he goes to bed sober, his mind too hazy already from being close to her to feel the need to drown himself in alcohol.

He doesn't know it, but it's the first of many.

II .

Everything's been complicated, but when she kisses him, the world lights up. The lights are still off, and he can't see beyond his nose, but she shines like a star in the dead of night, and he knows he could find her lips with his easily even in this darkness, because they are the only thing that's been keeping him from drinking until he passes out.

III .

It's the first and last time anything like this happens to him. He's been riding that bike since forever, and he's always very focused on getting his job done, but he doesn't see the car until it's crashing against him. He doesn't see a white light at the end of a dark tunnel, nor does his life flash before his eyes. But for an instant, while he's lying on the ground, every single bone aching, he knows he could just close his eyes and stop trying. It could end. His life hasn't been all that great. He's done plenty of bad things, terrible things, and sometimes it feels as if it doesn't matter at all how hard he tries, the hole in his chest will never fully heal. But then he thinks of her. The way she smiles into his kisses. The way she likes to press her lips against his collarbone and just breathe against his skin as she falls asleep. And he's done a whole lot of awful things, but this is the one thing he's got right, and he can't let go now, so he forces his eyes to stay open and takes a deep breath.

IV .

Running away has always been an option for him. It's there, in the back of his mind, buried deeply now that she's here, but still. It's definitely there. So when Oliver comes back with a proposition, he can't help but consider it. He loves her, and he's happy with his life, but Oliver digs at each and every one of his insecurities, reminds him he's not good enough for her, and someday she'll notice it and she'll leave him. It's a conversation he's had with himself more times than he can count, but having someone else say it out loud to him has a different impact. And there's a day in which he goes see her with his mind almost made up. She opens her door dressed in one of his shirts and he's pretty sure those are his boxers, grinning lazily because it's a Sunday afternoon and before he can say anything, she grabs him by the collar of his shirt and drags him inside, pushing him onto the couch and cuddling next to him.

“We should stay here forever.”

She mumbles against his chest, looks up blushing wildly and bites her lower lip, and it's the single most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

“Wouldn't you get bored?”

It's a loaded question, but she doesn't notice. She giggles and shakes her head vehemently.

“You're all I want. Always. Everytime. Forever. You keep me safe, I need that.”

As he wraps his arms around her tighter, burying his nose in her hair, he can't help but smile because it's as if she knows exactly what to say to make him feel needed.

V .

It's hard to stop hearing her dad's voice ringing through his head, because just like with Oliver, he's told himself all those same things billions of times before, but it's easy to ignore his own voice. Her dad's... now that a different subject. And maybe this time doesn't count as Sam saving him, because it's Emma who helps him see, but like everything in his life, it comes down to Sam. He's felt worthless all his life, because his parents left him and then everyone that was ever in his life left him, and there had to be something wrong with him that made everyone leave. He was alone for so long, never doing anything worth mentioning, one pale day after the other, always numb. He tells Emma about this, and he tells her about how useless he's always been, how little he'd be missed if he wasn't around anymore one day.

“If you made one single person happy, if you made one person feel loved, then your life has meaning.”

Emma pats him on the shoulder, and this is another first for him, another of many that have kept on happening ever since Sam came into his life. For the first time, he feels like his life is worth something. Like maybe he can do more in life than just go from day to day. Like he should stop wallowing in self pity, and start properly living.

I .

She waltzes between two very long tables full of plants, and only stops to leave some seeds here and there, arranging some of the lights and singing lowly to the beautiful plants that they've cared for as if they were their own children. They're so big now, it makes her more proud than she ever thought she would be about this. And maybe it's not exactly what she dreamed she'd end up doing when she moved to New York. Her parents would definitely freak out if they saw what her new job consisted of. And she might constantly be risking her personal safety by helping him. But when she sees him walking into the room and smiling at her, she doesn't remember any of those things. She remembers being lost, and feeling fragile, as if a single blow could break her. She remembers floating in hazy clouds after long nights of drinking, and she remembers all the wasted days she slept through because she couldn't bring herself to face the day with such a hungover. She remembers hearing worried voices asking her why she was doing this to herself when she had no real problems to be drowning in alcohol. And then, she remembers a steady hand holding her own, a warm body always sleeping curled up next to her, holding her in place, keeping her together when she felt she might fall apart. She remembers brown eyes hidden under a frown when she came back home long after the sun had gone up, and she remembers the way that frown came back when she asked if she could help with this. She remembers how he nodded, and she remembers how for the longest of times, she lived in panic of disappointing him, because she was a mess and she might screw this up for them.

So yes, it's the most important thing she remembers, the way those eyes agreed with full confidence in her to let her help. The way they shone in hope that this might be the thing that showed her just how much she could do if she stayed cleaned. And she remembers the softest, widest smile that he gives her every day as she gets in the car after work. It tells her he's always thought the sun shone out of her, the moon and stars hung by her up in the sky, and he never doubted her. He kept holding her hand, pulling her through and out of the haze, bringing her to safety. Giving her time when she needed time, space when she needed space, and trust when all she wanted was someone to trust she could be better in order to actually be better. Trust and love, always. That's what he's always given her. That's what's got her out of her misery, and that's what will always keep her fighting. That broad shouldered boy that doesn't hug her like he might break her anymore, because he knows she won't and he knows she hates being treated like a porcelain doll when she feels so strong. He doesn't know she feels strong because of him. He doesn't know he saved her from her worst enemy, time and time, until they defeated it.

She doesn't know how many times she saved him.

“I thought you said you had a roommate.”

Ryan states as he drops his controller and goes to the kitchen, and really, at this point it's kind of the same as if he was playing, because he really has no idea how to beat Fitz at this game. He pours himself a glass of water and tries not to think too hard about the fact that he's for some reason hanging out with his girlfriend's ex and some random guy, because he's actually having fun with them, even if it is little bit weird.

“I do. And he has an early shift tomorrow, so I have no idea where he could possibly be.”

It is two in the morning after all, and they can stay up playing videogames because Ryan hadn't had classes the day after, Fitz can draw whenever he wants to, and Tucker doesn't really have anything to do most of the time. But Nathan shouldn't be out so late, and just as Fitz is starting to consider ringing him and seeing if he's forgotten about his job already, there is a sound at the door. It sounds like keys, but it's a really long while before they enter the lock and the three of them are slightly afraid of what might come in through the door.

“Nathan?”

Fitz squints his eyes to make out his figure better in the dark, but all of the lights are off and with Nathan all dressed in black, it's impossible to do so. He walks into the kitchen without saying a word, and he seems to not notice that there are other people in the apartment, so Fitz stands up, a worried look on his face. It isn't until he reaches the kitchen and there is some proper light shed on his face that Fitz actually frowns so much that it makes his head hurt. Nathan keeps quiet, and grabs ice from the fridge, pressing it against his forehead, as if he's not aware of the blood running down his jawline all the way to his throat, and how his shirt sticks to his skin and has more bloodstains than could be counted. He coughs, his entire body shaking as he does, and breaks the silence that fell ever since he walked in. It's like he's breaking some sort of spell that had kept them all frozen until that moment, and suddenly Ryan's stepping back from him, Fitz is making his way towards him, and Tucker is shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“What the hell, Nathan?”

“I went out to the pub.”

His answer comes with a sheepish smile that makes Fitz want to both punch him and cuddle him endlessly. He is very evidently drunk, and his smile shows his lip is what seems to be bleeding the most, so Fitz leans closer and presses his finger against it, wanting to make it stop, but his hand is pushed away instantly. It's by far the last thing Nathan needs at the moment, and there's a flash of something in his eyes, which only confuses Fitz even further. But Ryan, who's been an unwilling witness of it all, standing too close for his own good, he catches it and even though he's never been good at reading people, the look in the wounded boy's face is an open book to him. So that's how it is.

Nathan locks himself in the bathroom, and Fitz goes back to the couch, trying his hardest to pretend nothing's happened, until Tucker's stares become too much and he blurts something out, just to get him to stop looking at him like that.

“He tends to get into fights when he's drunk, it's pretty standard for men to do that, right?”

He makes it sound as if men were a species completely different from his own, and it makes both of his friends chuckle, which helps breaking the ice again. The shower is running, and eventually they forget about the whole thing. At some point, Fitz hears Nathan quietly slipping into his room, and he makes a mental note to ask him about it the next day.

It's five in the morning, and everyone's asleep. Well, everyone except for Tucker, because he's had this idea for a song stuck in his head ever since Fitz and Ryan drifted off, and he's been up writing it all on his own for the last half hour, when he hears a door shrieking that startles him. Nathan doesn't make any sounds when he walks, and he's starting to think the guy might actually be a ghost. He's wearing boxers and a Superman t-shirt, he's as skinny as humanly possible, seems to be all bones covered in a very tanned, full of tattoos skin with scars and bruises all over, and Tucker should probably stop staring because now he's staring back at him and it's turning into an awkward situation way too fast. Somehow managing to unglue his eyes from his body, he looks up to his face and finds Nathan smiling at him -or smirking? Was that a smirk?

“You want some coffee?”

The words come out of his mouth when he's least expecting them to, and they're all scrambled upon each other and he probably made no sense, but Nathan nods and hands him a cup, lazily scratching the back of his head as he sits down across from him. He looks extremely awake for someone who's slept less than three hours, and Tucker has the feeling he doesn't usually sleep longer than that. Staring at him while filling up his cup is a bad idea, and a drop of very hot coffee reaches his hand, causing him to swear louder than he would've liked to. Nathan winces sympathetically as he grabs his cup, and the sleeping beauties in the couch shift around, seemingly awake now. Fitz raises his head over the arm of the couch, and frowns at them.

“That's not yours. That's mine. You're Batman, not Superman.”

Tucker is more than surprised at the sudden change in Nathan's expression. His face transfigures and he smiles so widely his eyes crinkle up, then and he's actually laughing out loud, there is noise coming from him, so he's definitely not a ghost. He seems to have come alive all of a sudden, only needing Fitz's attention in order to turn into a real person.

“If you don't want me to wear your clothes, you shouldn't leave them in my room.”

His smile is so bright it's hard to believe this is the same guy from the night before.

“Thanks for the coffee, mate. I'm gonna go to work, so you all lazy bums can go back to sleep.”

He only left Lindsay alone for like ten minutes to go to the bathroom, so no, he wasn't expecting to find this other guy sitting so close to her his breath must be tickling her neck in the warmest of ways. Okay, he wasn't really in the bathroom, he was out in the back alley smoking up but it's really not his fault because the one time he actually calls a girl after sleeping with him, she thinks it's time to play hard to get and he doesn't even know what the fuck is up with her and he's not interested enough to find out, but none of that means that scrawny looking guy has any right to be putting his hand on her thigh. So he finds himself standing next to her and putting one arm over her shoulders and he's very prepared to tell that guy to fuck off, when their eyes finally meet. And Mitch has never been one to think too much about feelings but he can read this guy's eyes like an open book and his body language is so painfully obvious not even him can ignore it. The way his fingers grip the bar, his smirk never gets to his eyes, and if they get into a fight he'll be giving him exactly what he wants because his eyes are pleading for him to make him feel something that will help him forget. And he doesn't know how long he's stared at him, but it's been long enough to make Lindsay get bored and she's walking away, and he doesn't care.

throw me in a dark pit, don't think about the choices that you make

Nathan stands in his boxers against the window, a dim light making his figure stand out against the darkness that fills up the room. He lights up a cigar, taking a long drag and staring out into the street. If only the fleeting sensation of letting go he gets when he does things like what he just did wasn't fleeting. A phone buzzes, and Mitch is still in bed but he somehow manages to reach it and take it out from his back pocket. The apartment is so silent that the sound of his voice shatters through it violently.

so leave me in the cold

“I always knew there'd come a day in which you would be calling for me at two am, but I'm not exactly free right now.” His smug tone makes Nathan hint a smirk, but a sob comes right after through the phone and he once again closes his walls tightly around him, getting lost in his own thoughts.

wait until the snow covers me up

“Nat, Nat, stop crying. You're not a sick person, what is going on?” Mitch stands up, fumbling through the floor for his jeans and stumbling into them. “Oh, that fucker. I'll be right over.” The phone clicks, and he turns to Nathan, who hasn't moved an inch in the last half hour. “I have to go. A friend just realized she might have a crush on her cousin and it's a little complicated.” He tries to chuckle, but he can't pretend like it's funny because he just heard Nat being as broken as humanly possible and his own heart is breaking for her. But when he looks at the guy that a couple of hours ago was biting on his ear and smiling devilishly at him, he can tell not even Nat's this messed up.

thought you said you didn't feel pain

Now it's Nate's phone that buzzes, and he glances at it. “Here.” Mitch grabs it and passes it to him, but he doesn't move. Starting to think maybe he has literally turned into a statue because he can't remember the last time he saw him blink, Mitch takes a step forward, but he's got enough in his plate with Nat and Parker, and this was meant to be a casual fuck, he really should remember who he is and how little he's supposed to care.

this is torturous electricity between both of us

He lets himself out. He's closing the door behind him when he hears hurried steps coming his way, and he looks up and finds the whitest boy he's ever seen smiling widely at him. “Is Nate here?” He asks, and Mitch nods, a little confused, then watching him enter the apartment humming a happy tune. No. He mustn't care.

this is dangerous, 'cause i want you so much but i hate your guts