I am cringe, but I am free

Reese flicked to the next photo. A young Kelly in a fire station on Brad's shoulders. His helmet far too big on their small head.

"He was in my culinary course. Wanted to cook better food for his station. He was completely useless, couldn't even julienne a carrot. I kind of...took him under my wing, I guess"

The next photo was a garden wedding. Reese in a black suit, Brad in a white one. Cupping his jaw and pulling him into a kiss as confetti rained down on them. The trees green and simple gold bands shimmering in the sunlight.

You picked up the photo to look at it a bit closer. Turning it in your hands and smiling down at the intertwined subjects.

He looked happy. Eyes closed, smiling against Brad's lips. Cheeks slightly blushed and hair a bit longer. Pushed back neatly.

"Was he nice?"

Reese hummed. Taking the photo back. Looking down at it with eyes that slowly softened into something sad. Something regretful.

"Very, that was the problem"

And then he put it back in the box. Closing the lid and pushing it aside. Arm snaking around your waist and pulling you closer. Chin tucked against the crown of your head. Waiting for you to finish the last bite of pizza crust before taking your hand in his. Grease smearing between your palms.

Just sitting in the silence.

Reflecting.

Until his eyes stopped itching and heart stopped racing. Until all he could smell was your shampoo, and all he could feel was your warmth sinking into his skin. Cans of soda littering your coffee table. Empty pizza boxes stacked high. The TV playing something you had muted hours ago. The light now just dancing across the dimly lit room.

And then he broke the silence.

"So, what about you? Any photos?"

You shook your head. Pulling your hand free from his grip and trailing shining fingertips up and down his stomach. Tickling his sides just to make him squirm, batting your hand away.

"Not really. Only two ever got past the second date stage. And even then, they didn't last long enough for photos"

You poked his belly button. He bit your ear.

"Well, just tell me about one. Anyone. The one you liked the most"

His body weight slowly eased you onto the floor. Back sinking into the rug as he twisted his hips, settling between your legs. One hand on your thigh, hooking it over his hip. His elbow pressed into the ground beside your head, keeping himself upright. Lips moving from your ear to down your throat. Slow and lazy. Smelling like pepperoni and Dr Pepper.

Your head was spinning as you tried to look back. Tried to remember all those years alone. All those years trying to connect with someone, anyone that wasn't him. Who made you feel the happiest. Who made you laugh the most. Who you thought, for even just a moment, you might have a chance with. Might be able to build something with.

And there was one, only one, you could think of that even came close.

"James. I met him at a work Christmas party. He was someone's brother or cousin, I'm not sure. But he had this smile and all this spiky hair. And he couldn't sit still for the life of him. But he...he made me laugh"

You let your hands find his hair. Tangling into short strands. Gripping what you could as his tounge lapped and teeth nipped.

"Why didn't it last?"

You groaned, head falling back. Spine arching. His hand sliding up your pyjama shorts. Your shirt slipping up your stomach.

"He reminded me too much of you in some aspects, and not enough in others"

His fingers grazed the lace of your underwear. His nose nudging against your jaw. Slowly moving up to kiss across your cheeks, your temple, your nose.

"He was reckless and loud. All playful and full of optimism. He still thought farts were funny-"

"They are"

He was smiling down at you. Eyes bright and amused. You glared playfully, and he huffed. Returning to his mission of kissing every inch of skin in front of him and back down the other side of your neck.

"Sorry, continue"

And you did. Head fuzzy and eyes falling shut.

"We'd have a lovely date, and I'd just start feeling like myself again. Like I used to, and then he'd kiss me, and I'd be reminded of who he wasn't. Who I was trying to pretend he was"

James was amazing. He was patient when he needed to be and sweet when you let him. He was face paced and slow all at the same time. He didn't force himself into your life he just became part of it. He always asked before kissing you goodnight at the door and never stayed over without permission. He made eggs and pancakes and cleaned up after himself. He pushed you into trying new things and getting out of the house more.

But he just wasn't Reese.

The Reese who was now tugging at your shirt collar with his teeth. Annoyed by its presence as you let your arms drop, lifting yourself so he could pull it free. Hand not returning to your thigh, but your waist instead. Stopping you from squirming as he sucked a light mark into the swell of your bare breasts.

"He didn't kiss me like you did"

His head snapped up. Eyes wide, lips parted and pink. Licking them as he looked you up and down. Took in his saliva on your skin. His marks slowly developing. The heaving of your chest, the heat of your skin. Back arched and hands laying above your head. Hair fanned out and his.

All his.

"Man, if I knew it had these god-like sex powers over women, I would have used them for evil-"

You cut him off, one hand raised to weave through his hair. Pulling him into a kiss that was full of heat and passion and want. Sucking at his bottom lip, lapping at his teeth. Swallowing down every small noise he made as his hand travelled up from your waist, over your ribs and arm, and around the wrist that was still laying on the carpet. Pinning in there as you bucked up against him. Pushing against his open zipper as he pulled back for a gasping breath. Cheeks flushed and pupils blown.

"You were my first everything, Reese. It's hard to branch out after convincing yourself that one guy would be both your first and your last"

You stroked his hair. Fingertips grazing his nape, thumb rubbing against the skin behind his ear. Watching his face fall. Gulping down some emotion you couldn't quite register.

"That was selfish of me. Keeping you all to myself. I should have let you-"

"I didn't want you to"

Your hand circled around. Down until it was cupping his jaw. Thumb pressed against his lips. Silencing him.

"It was my choice to stick around. My choice to put up with you. My choice to give you everything until I had nothing left"

You pulled his bottom lip down. Kiss swollen and so pink. A flash of white teeth and a pink tongue as his jaw fell open. Sucking the digit in and nipping at the soft pad. Looking down at you like he did the first time. The very first time. When you were both so scared and so unsure. Still exploring and learning. Making you unravel like solving a puzzle box. A mix of pride, lust and love. All rolled into one with a sprinkling of disbelief. Disbelief that you were his. That only he got to see you like this. Got to see the hitch in your breath and the want in your eyes.

You rolled your hips again. And he moved to meet you. Sucking your thumb deeper, holding your wrist tighter.

"And I wouldn't change a thing"

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

When you were seventeen, you both tried to go the next step. The making out on his bed, the dry humping on the couch, and the handjob in the garage were great. All good steps, all enjoyable. But you thought you were ready for the next one. Laying on your bed in your empty house with your bedside lamp on and his hands slowly lifting your shirt off. Seeing your bra for the first time, not just feeling it under your shirt as he groped you like cat kneeding a pillow.

But you panicked. Chickened out and hid your face in your hands, trying not to cry as he quickly lowered your shirt and held you close. He promised it was ok and that you were beautiful. That there was no rush. He could wait. He was good at waiting. He had waited longer to pull off pranks on his brothers or mess with his parents. So he could wait a bit longer for you to be ok with him seeing you naked.

But he didn't have to wait long.

Because when you turned 18, you tried again.

And you didn't cry this time. Shirt off, pants thrown somewhere, left in your underwear and him in his boxer shorts, learning how to not injure your breasts in a giddy freeze of needing to touch and sqeeze and bite and lick. You didn't go very far. But it was a start. The start of it all.

Because after that, you both pushed a bit further. Mouths on places, fingers in things. Rutting and humping and biting and sucking. Slowly learning what made each other feel good. The spots to focus on and the ones to avoid. How much pressure was needed to make the other fall apart and what noises meant there was a mess incoming.

Then, when you were 20, you tried to go all the way. Finally feeling safe and comfortable and ready.

That was until he was hovering over you, cock wrapped, covered in lube, and laying against your stomach.

And then you panicked.

Like you always seemed to do.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry. I just got freaked out"

He had you pulled into his chest in seconds. Stroking your back and kissing your forehead. Hushing you as you hiccuped small sobs. Body shaking and heart racing. His cock trapped between you, ignored and still hard. Poking into your stomach.

"It's ok. You know we don't need to lose our virginitys to each other to stay together, right? I'm more than happy with what we're doing now. As long as I get to see your boobs, I'm pretty much set for life"

He shrugged, smirking as you retaliated with a bite to his collarbone. Not hard enough to hurt as your lips continue to wobble, but enough to make his lips widen further. Some of tension easing away as you kissed the bite in apology. Teeth barely leaving a mark.

"I want to, though. I really, really want to. I want you to have it. And I don't want to keep chickening out. It's just...."

You traced his ribs with wobbly fingers. Face hot and hidden in his chest. Mind flashing back to moments before. The press of him against you then and now. Almost touching your bellybutton.

"You looked really big when you did that. I got scared it wouldn't fit"

He stiffened, then huffed out a laugh. Pulling you away from his chest to smirk down at you. Eyes shining and lube slick fingers pushing your hair behind your ear.

"Listen, I know you've got nothing to compare him to. But the ego boost is appreciated-"

"Shut up, you're so gross"

You reached up to pinch his nipple, but he intercepted your hand. Grabbing your wrist and rolling you onto your back, pinning it to the pillow, and pecking at your nose and cheeks until you were squirming, no longer caring about the tension moments ago. No longer embarrassed or full of regret. Back to just you and him and the familiar press of skin on skin.

"We can try again another day. But while I've got you naked, do you mind if i just..."

And then he was sliding down your body. Lips pressed against your stomach and hands moving to slowly pull your thighs over his shoulders.

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

You were sat on your couch. Kneeling on the pillows as he held your ring in his hand. An hour of talking just wrapping up as your nerves felt like they were consuming you. His hand holding yours. Both looking down at your ring finger as the sun began to set. Bathed in orange and pink. Cups of coffee and tea forgotten and getting colder by the second as your hand shook. Or maybe it was his.

"Do you really want to try this again? It could end so badly"

He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Like all my other marriages worked out so great?"

You huffed out a laugh. Nervous and thoughtful. Thinking back to all the stories of fights that led to something nasty shot his way. Someone's patience wearing thin as he lashed out one too many times. Played one too many pranks or jeopardised one too many important events. The self sabotage and feelings of inadequacy that you wished he had never experienced. That you wished you had protected him from. If only you hadn't been so stubborn.

He sighed head hung low. Eyes tired and locked on the little green heart and gold band in front of him.

"I think, honestly, you are my only chance. And I want to take it. Just...promise to talk to me? No going to bed angry or running away or anything. We talk now. I can't do another 12 years away from you. And I don't think you can either"

He slipped the ring onto your finger. Lacing your hands together and cupping your jaw, pulling you into a soft kiss. Full of love and promise. Nerves melting away as you felt like you could finally breathe again. Making a small wanting noise as he pulled away for a breath. Thumb brushing your cheekbone.

And then you reflected on your years without him. Eating microwaved meals and watching the same two shows over and over again. Sleeping in a bed that was too cold and too big. Showering too fast and eating too slow. Everything so grey and dull and bland. So alone it made your heart ache late a night when the moon was high. Face always blank. Nothing ever quite as funny as it was with him. When he told the joke. When he tripped over his own feet. When he was smiling at you, waiting for the milk to spurt out your nose just so he could tease you and wipe you clean. Because he was the only one who could make you do that. Who could make you laugh that hard.

And now he was back, now he was in your life, in your bed, cramped in your shower, making a mess of your kitchen, you couldn't imagine going back.

"No, I really couldn't"

So you lifted your hand into the dimming sunlight, and watched the stone sparkle. Green like his eyes.

"It looks smaller-"

"You're hand just got bigger-ow! Stop doing that!"

He cupped his nipples over his shirt, pulling your fingers away and pushing at your shoulder in retaliation. Making you laugh, like he always did. Hands moving to grab his wrists, pushing him onto his back with a grunt. Legs tangled together, hair falling around his face. Nose to nose with his hands pinned to the arm rest. Faces filled with matching goofy smiles.

"Make me"

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

"So we're definitely telling them? One hundred percent? No backing out?"

You stood at his parents' front door. All neatly painted and covering the years of holes and burn marks the boys had craved into it. His hand holding a covered tray of Arancini balls and caramelised oinion quiches whilst his other wrapped around your waist. Your own hands holding a wooden Charcuterie board of cheese and meats and fig jam he had made from scratch.

"No backing out. Francis has had his celebrations, Piama is eight months deep with no complications, and Malcolm hasn't done anything stupid in a month. It's our golden window"

You both just stared at the painted wood as neither of you plucked up the courage to open it. Sounds of life, loud and bustling, so close yet so far.

"I'm gonna throw up"

"Me too"

His hand tightened around your waist. Both gulping and still staring at the door. Niether moving.

But you didn't have to.

Because a second later, it was flung open. Lois taking the board from your hands and replacing it with a stack of plates and napkins. Ushering your both inside as Jamie ran past to throw something at Kelly in retaliation for whatever they had just told Dewey that they weren't meant to.

"You've been avoiding table duty far too long. You look lovely, get to it"

She pressed a kiss against your cheek and then she was off, rushing away to put food on the tables outside and dig in the kitchen draws for more knives and forks. Malcolm trying to tell her something as she brushed him off and made him go find more chairs.

"Dont mind her. She's just a bit stressed with the whole family coming. Take Reese to help you while I tame the beast"

And then Hal was there. Emptying Reese's hands with a smile before rushing off too. Hands circling his wife's waist and whispering something into her ear that made her laugh and swat at his arms. Leaning over to put down a plate of dinner rolls and some salad tongs on the breakfast bar to be carried out by the next victim that crossed her path.

Leaving you and Reese standing there. His arm still around your waist, a gold band on your hand. Watching everyone go by like it was just another day. Like you were teenagers again, just existing as a fact, not a question.

"No ones-"

"Shocked I'm back in this house after 12 years with a rock on my finger and your arm around my waist? Yeah, Reese. It's freaking me out too"

You looked at each other. Nerves bubbling and noise increasing. And then he kissed your cheek, took your hand, and pulled you towards the backyard. Helping you set the table and taking things Lois handed him. Chatting away with his family like old friends. Joking with Jamie and riling Malcolm up. Getting to know Tristan as you both folded napkins and watched Hal yelp as the barbecue spat out flames.

And then lunch was ready. All sqeezed in around the folding tables pulled out from the cobwebs in the back of the garage. You and Reese's thighs pressed together, and the steaks burnt. Everyone digging into potato salad and praising Reese's jam. Francis already gulping down three Arancini and going for his fourth when Piama smacked it out of his hand, telling him off for not sharing.

And it was nice.

Familiar.

Reese pouring you a new glass of white wine and eating all the tomato's your picked out of your salad and shoved onto his plate. Slicing and buttering your bread rolls before his and cutting your steak into bite sized pieces so you didn't have to struggle. Holding your hand under the table as you filled up, eating with just his fork as you smiled and watched him. Always ready to put away more food.

'Free is my favourite flavour' is what he always used to say, and that still rang true.

It wasn't until everyone started to slow down that he let go of your hand, picking up his glass and tapping it with his knife until everyone half looked his way. Conversation stilling and nerves building.

"Can I just have everyone's attention for a second?"

Your hand felt cold. Your throat clenched. So you wrapped a hand around his calf, and sqeezed tight. Taking in a deep controlled breath.

"We just wanted to announce that-"

"You're engaged again. We know. Pass the potato's"

Jamie rolled his eyes, reaching a hand out across the table towards the almost empty plate. Reese's brow furrowing.

"No, well yes. I am but I'm engaged to-"

"Miss Heartbreaker there. Again, we know. Potatoes, please"

He shook his hand more aggressively, and Dewey passed them with a huff. Going back to his own meal. Just like everyone else. Forks scraping plates, knives slicing meat.

Reese just stood there blinking.

"Not a single one of you is-"

"No"

Malcolm spoke up this time. Scooping salad onto Leah's plate.

"You've been seeing each other for months, we guessed it was coming"

That didn't help the shell shocked look on Reese's face. Or the pounding of your heart. Holding him so tightly, your knuckles ached. Throat so tight your voice shook.

"You...you knew we we're seeing each other? This whole time?"

Lois rolled her eyes. Shooting a wink your way as Hal cut her steak, sneaking a few bites when she wasn't looking.

"Honey, the garage isn't as well insulted as you'd like it to be"

"Our bedroom on the other hand-"

Kelly wrinkled her nose and covered her ears. The whole table groaning in unison.

"Oh, ew. Someone, please shut that sentence down before it starts"

But Hal just continued, kissing Lois' cheek as they looked deeply into eachothers eyes with a hunger you had witnessed far too many times before.

"It's a natural and beautiful part of life. Without it, you wouldn't all be here-"

"I wish I wasn't"

Kelly gaged, turning back to their salad as you looked up at Reese. Face slowly changing from shell shocked to angry. Your hand sliding up his thigh, then over his hip. Tugging on his belt loop in a silent plea to just sit down and let it go.

But he couldn't.

Because, at the end of the day, he was a Wilkerson.

"I have been busting my ass sneaking around and making excuses when I could have just gone to see my girlfriend? You know we drove an hour once just to have a picnic so we wouldn't risk running into one of you? It's been a nightmare!"

His face was red. Hands swinging widely.

And Malcolm just shrugged.

"Honestly, waste of time, dude. I could hear you both in Kelly's room that night. You didn't stand a chance at being subtle"

"Does he always shout 'touch down' at the end? Or is that only after the second round? Because Francis-"

"Hey! Don't drag me into this!"

The whole table snorted. Sharing looks as your face filled with heat and shame. Letting go of Reese to burying your face in your hands.

"God, this is humiliating"

Your ring sparkled in the sunlight, the sounds of Reese picking a fight with one of the brothers filled the air. Piama's foot knocked yours gently under the table until you looked up at her through your fingers. Her skin glowing, her smile bright and eyes soft. Belly pressing into the table.

You looked behind him. Some older boy with a backwards cap and skateboard laughing away with his friends. Not even paying attention to you. Like he had just forgotten you the second the door closed. Not even worth worrying about if anyone would ever find you.

The boy broke his skateboard over his head at lunch. Hat falling in the mud and blood running down his hairline.

He smiled as the older boy beat him back. Holding his own until the older boy was flat on his back, sobbing to the teachers as he wandered over to you, holding out one skate wheel. Knuckles bruised and lip split.

"I'm Reese by the way"

And it was all downhill from there.

Walking you home, his brother's bickering behind you. Sitting next to you at lunch after a few too many people looked at you funny. Sharing snacks and having homework nights. Hands lingering a bit too long, brushing together far too often to be written off as accidental. Teenage hormones raging a bit too much when the sun set and the movie dragged on. Everyone in his chaotic household fast asleep as some guy got chased by a killer clown. Heart beats echoing in the darkness.

He broke your heart for the first time at 16 when you caught him making out with some girl in the hallway. You weren't dating. You were just friends. But you didn't realise how much you wanted to be more until that moment. Withdrawing from him, walking home alone and hiding in the girls' bathroom during lunch.

Your first kiss had started with a shouting match. Him practically dragging you to his room after guilt tripping you into coming over to help him with his history assignment. Door closed, both of you standing on either side of his bed. Yelling and crying and neither understanding why the other was so angry.

Why he cared if you gave him space to kiss girls.

Why you cared if he kissed other girls at all.

Ending with a shout that was far too loud and far too vulnerable.

"Because I want you to be kissing me!"

Then there was silence.

Silence that made the air thick and the room small.

Silence that lingered for too long and clung to your skin.

Silence that was broken as he leapt across the bed, kneeling on messy sheets, and pulled you in by your collar. Lips pressed together far too hard, far too messily.

And perfect.

So perfect that you melted into it. Hands gripping at his shirt, whimpering against his lips. He had slowed down at the sound. Pulling back just long enough to cup your face, tilting your head, and trying again. Softer, cleaner. Lips slotting together like puzzle pieces.

He never kissed another girl again.

Not until that night.

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

"A baby shower?"

Your cup steamed into the air. White, swirling tendrils that filled your nostrils with the aroma of mid-priced coffee from the local cafe you had both finally settled on after over an hour of flirty texting banter with far too many questionable emoji combinations from Reese's end.

"Yeah, in a month or something"

He was wearing a brown sweater. It looked so soft and cosy. The sleeve fraying from his persistent fiddling as he avoided your eyes, almost as if he looked at them for too long, he'd lose himself in them.

You picked up your paper cup and took a sip.

He did the same.

"You know, people normally do that after being like 8 months pregnant. Not 4"

He shrugged, hiding his smile behind the lip of his cup.

"Francis is just really excited"

"I bet. They started trying back when we were fresh out of high school. I can't imagine the stress they've gone through getting this far"

You both put down your cups, staring at the dark liquid in silence. Him picking at his sleeve, you warming your hands around insulted paper. Feet close but never touching underneath the table as people just kept walking by. Living their lives without a care in the world as you two sat there, a mix of strangers and soulmates.

He broke the silence. Foot tapping at your ankel and head lifting. A small sad expression filling his face.

"You never wanted kids"

You nodded. Then shook your head. Shrugging in a small, vulnerable movement.

"I didn't...not want them"

And that was true. You had never really thought about kids with Reese except in fleeting moments of pure fondness. When he fell alseep before you and his face relaxed so much it was like he was a child again. When he would fall flat on his ass trying to fix something in your shitty apartment and pout while you laughed until your sides hurt. When he'd lean his head on your shoulder while you watched movies late at night, snuggling into your side like he needed protection from the romance on screen.

His baby's would have been so cute.

"We're too old now anyway. Well...I am"

"Piama is in her 40's-"

"I know and I'm scared"

You gripped your cup and bit too tight, hissing as hot liquid spilled onto the webbing between you thumb and fingers. Shaking it off, skin far too warm.

He grabbed a napkin from the dispenser on the table. Taking your hand in his and dabbing it dry, soothing his thumbs over the sore spot.

"As happy as I am for them, they're taking such a huge risk. That's why I was so mad about her sleeping on the couch. You guys really need to step up here"

He sighed, lifting your hand and blowing on it. Cool air followed by a dry kiss. Instinct almost. Dropping your hand with heated cheeks and leaning back in his chair. Back to playing with his sleeve.

"I don't know if I would've even been a good dad. I was a pretty bad husband"

He pulled a thread loose. Sighing and biting it off with his teeth to throw over his shoulder.

"You weren't bad with me"

He looked up at you. Tilting his head and eyes curious. Doubtful. So you continued.

"You were sweet and thoughtful and so full of love I could practically feel you vibrating with it every night when you cuddled me to sleep. You would have extended that to our theoretical children, I'm sure of it. Just maybe after teaching them how to make paint bombs and ruining my clean laundry"

You nudged his calf with your foot, watching a soft blush creep across his cheeks as he took another sip of coffee, coughed, and the reached his hand across the table. Fingers curled, calling yours over to slide across his palm. Calloused and warm pads running across the base of your ring finger.

"You would have been a good wife if we ever got to the alter. You're patient with me and understand how my messed up brain works. You never called me dumb or looked down on me. And you're a pretty good kisser"

You huffed out a laugh. Sliding your hand down until your fingers interlocked.

"I learnt from the best"

You shot him a wink and he smirked. Foot stretching until it was under your chair. Resting your heel against his shin and fingers twitching in your hand. His smirk slowly dropping. His coffee half empty and rapidly cooling in the breeze.

"I'm sorry, again. About that night. I shouldn't have gone over there-"

"It's ok.

You sqeezed his hand. Eyes welling and breath catching. Emotions all bubbling back up from where they had hidden away. The sting of it all still there. Still lingering.

"I was just...so in love with you, I blinded myself to the facts. If I wasn't so stubborn, we would have been married with six kids and a dog by now"

It was his turn to squeeze your hand now. Ducking his head to try and meet your eyes. Sniffling and swallowing down the tears before they had the chance to fall. Finally looking up and seeing seas of soft green. Lips upturned and apologetic.

"I was defensive. That didn't help either. I just couldn't bear the idea of losing you. I guess I just pushed you away first. Like that would make it hurt less"

You hated how right he was. How it was a two man job. How much he had yelled back. How he body blocked you and threw things out of your suitcase as fast as you packed them. How cold and isolated he became after it all. How breaking up with him felt like breaking up with a stranger.

How you had carried this guilt, this anger, for so long. Too long. Unjustified and misguided. Throwing your whole life away in a manner of minutes. Missing out on so much, missing out on him, for over a decade.

And the silence just kept hanging. Thick and uncomfortable. His hand still in yours, his legs still under your chair. Both retreating as you cleared your throat and moved to pick up your coffee cup. Sipping it just to hide behind it. Him moving to done the same. Taking the last half in two big gulps.

"This is good coffee"

"Yeah, the beans...real smooth"

And then the silence was back.

Thick and heavy and so awakward. A type of awkward you had never experienced with him before.

"Oh, here. Gift for you. Well, a re-gift"

You had never been more thankful for him to reach into his pocket for an unknown item. Even if it was a bug or some dried dog turd he stored there for a laugh, it was better than the awkwardness.

But what he pulled out was neither. It was a silk handkerchief. Wrapped around a tiny item that you slowly unveiled, one delicate fold at a time. Eyes wide and jaw dropping as you pick it up, shining in the sunlight.

"You kept my ring?"

A simple single gold band with a heart cut emerald in the centre surrounded by glass diamonds. Clean and polished. Not a tarnish on it as if he had cared for it every day since it left your finger.

"That's $200 right there. I would have been crazy to trash it"

He tapped the emerald, and your head shot up. Jaw dropping further, a new kind of shock filling your chest.

"You told me you got it on sale"

"There was a sale. It was down from $500. Practically a steal"

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Reese...how did you even have the money? I was balancing our books, we didn't have an extra $200 laying around. We barely had enough for gas-"

"Babysitting money"

"Baby-what?"

He smirked. Self-satisfied and proud. Eyes lighting up like he finally got to tell a secret he had been holding in. Sharing the juicy gossip with coffee breath and a frayed sweater sleeve.

"When Jamie was little, mum sometimes gave me $5 to watch him when she got desperate. I saved up"

You looked back down at the ring. Turning it, examining it. Shaking your head in disbelief.

"You saved...for that long?"

He was sitting up now. Taking it from you just to slide it over your finger. Back where it belonged. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Cupping your hand just like that day he got down on one knee in the kitchen. Dressed in his boxers and hole riddled socks. TV blasting some terrible horror movie and you flipping pancakes because he felt like them. The kitchen light dim and the sunsetting. Both exhausted from work, and you not even dressed. Just matching him in your underwear and one of his old shirts you pulled out of the laundry basket.

It wasn't grand.

It wasn't romantic.

But it was you. It was Reese. It was in your shared apartment with its shitty plumbing and rat problem. Dressed in his clothes and making him something that barely counted as dinner just so you could get back to falling asleep on his lap as he laughed and described the gory bits to you. Stroking your hair and kissing your cheeks.

And here, now, at some random coffee shop in the middle of some weekday with people walking past without a care in the world for the two of you and your history, your love, your story...he was holding your hand with an emerald on your finger, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"I knew one day I'd buy you a ring. And I wanted to get a good one. It's no big deal-"

"You're making it really hard not to fall in love with you all over again"

His breath hitched. Eyes locking with yours. Tears filling them again, lips wobbling and soft, so soft. Looking at him like you use to. Like he was someone. Meant something. Like he wasn't just a screw up son or a rage filled bully. Like he was a person. A good person.

His hand drifted almost unconsciously. Lifting to cup your check. A thumb grazing your bottom lip and table digging into his stomach.

"In that case, you have to stop giving me that look or I'm going down with you"

You scoffed. But it came out wet.

"What look?"

"The wide watery eyes and little wobbly pout. It is all soft and pathetic. Sweet and kissable. It's what got me the first time around, and you're doing it again, you temptress"

His thumb pulled your bottom lip down. Watching you sniffle. That goofy smile back in full force. Eyes locked and time stilling. No more awkward silence. Just...peace. Soft and comfortable and so full of something indescribable that made your whole body fill with heat. Kissing the pad of his thumb and nuzzling into his palm.

Giving in.

Just...giving in to it all.

His warmth, his dry skin. His cologne and baggage jeans. His hair that was too dark and his skin that was in desperate need of one of your pampering days laying across your lap while you covered him in pink clay and swiped toner across his pores. One of your fuzzy headbands making him look like a cat as he hummed and drifted off. Asking for kisses before you started on lip masks and moisturiser.

It was just like it was years ago, all of sudden. Like a switch had clicked. And he was Reese again. The kid who stole your pudding cups and leaped across beds to find your lips. Who made mix tapes and cooked like professional. Who sqeezed your ass every morning before breakfast and begged on his knees for goodbye kisses.

And he had kept your ring. Slipped it back on your finger without an ounce of hesitation.

So you must still be you.

"So, am I invited to the baby shower?"

He stood up, leaning over the table and pressing dry lips to your forhead. Crushing the empty coffee cups and never letting go of your hand, for even a second, as he dragged your down the street, throwing them into the first trash can he came across.

"I'll ask if I'm allowed a plus one"

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

You remembered it being so warm that night that your clothes were sticking to your skin. The matress boiling hot and the sheets damp to the touch. But you didn't have the money to be running unessasary appliances all night, not if you wanted to be able to afford rent that week. So you flipped and squirmed and groaned into the hot air.

You remembered being half asleep when he picked you up. Cradled in his arms and carried to the kitchen. A towel lining the hard tiles and a pillow placed neatly on top of it. Lowered onto the promising cool floor with a sleepy sigh.

"Reese..."

Your hands gripped at his tank top. He pulled them free, kissing your knuckles. His mouth was so warm.

"I'll join you in a second. Just got something I gotta do first"

And then he was gone. Your face buried in a pillow that was cool and damp, freshly pulled from the freezer, as the front door opened, then closed. You didn't think anything of it. The time of night, the fuzzy vision of jeans in front of your eyes as he kelt on the floor, the toolbox that practically lived in the living room suddenly missing.

Not until you heard muffled voices.

Then a thump.

Wobbling to your feet and looking through the peep hole. A distorted vision of the woman next door gripping at his cheeks and pulling him down into a kiss that was sloppy and wet and disgustingly full of tongue.

You pulled open the door and just started at them. Her apartment door wide open, dressed in a nightgown that barely covered her overheated skin. And Reese looking at you with wide eyes.

If you had just taken a second to think, to look, you would have seen the two empty bottles of wine on her coffee table with only one glass between them. You would have seen Reese's hands moving to push her away. You would have seen the toolbox dropped onto the floor and spilling out into the hallway. You would have connected the dots. That the thump you had heard was him dropping it. That the mumbling was him telling her he was a taken man and to back off.

But you didn't take a second.

You just let out a small sob and slammed the door shut. Running to the same bedroom he had just pulled you from and finding your duffle bag in the closest. Filling it with underwear and pants. Him yelling at you as you sobbed and yelled back. Grabbing your toothbrush and pulling off your ring.

If you had only taken a second, you would have remembered that Reese wasn't that kind of guy.

But you didn't.

And because of that, you wasted 12 years without him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were stood off to the side of the gazebo Francis and Piama had rented in the park. Everyone snacking and chatting as Leah and Kelly played on the swings, blue and pink ballons tied to their wrists. Malcome and Tristan huddled in close as Dewey tried to bait Reese into doing something dumb while Jamie filmed it. Francis picking up on the scent of mischief and already storming over. Hal and Lois bringing in the gender revel pinata from the car and sharing kisses the whole way.

It felt...weird. Like you didn't belong. Like no one really saw you hiding alongside the appetisers. Helping pour drinks for Piama's relatives and Hal's distant niece's and nephew's. So much chaos and noise letting you just blend in. Go unnoticed until someone needed something.

Like Piama who had wandered over to your hiding spot and was now sat in a lawn chair with a very swollen belly and an exhausted sigh. Gratefully taking the ginger ale you offered as well as the shoulder massage.

"The decorations are so cute"

"Thanks, Kelly helped. They know their way around a party city"

You dug your thumbs into a knot at her shoulder blade and she sighed. Head hanging, hand cupping her belly. So tired already.

"So are you hoping for a boy or a girl"

"I'm hoping they make it to full term"

Your face dropped, and she leaned her head back with a smirk. Poking at your side and downing her ginger ale before throwing the empty cup towards the trash bag in the corner and missing.

"Oh, don't look so mournful. I know I'm old. The doctor says they're healthy and I'm healthy, and there should be nothing to worry about as long as I stay in a low stress environment"

You hummed and looked up at Francis, now tackling Reese in the mug while Jamie cheered them on. Both of their semi-formal outfits ruined as they shouted something back and forth.

"Marrying Francis may be detrimental to that goal"

She shrugged. Looking at him with so much love in her eyes even as Reese managed to rip his pants clean down the back, displaying his heart boxers to the world.

"Yeah, but I love it"

She looked at you. Smiling softly, taking your hand off her shoulder and holding it against her chest. That same love sick look on your face as Reese laughed before getting his open mouth shoved into the dirt.

"And you did to"

Your eyes shot down. Trying to back track. Pulling away only to be held tighter, looked at softer.

"Francis told me-"

"Of course he did"

You groaned. Letting your head fall upon the crown of hers. It was wishful thinking that you would both get away with just claiming friendship. A reconnection that didn't mean anything. Just trying to be civil. Normal. Pretending you didn't kiss in front of your apartment, didn't moan into your pillows, didn't wake up with him snorning in your face and smothing your naked body while your ring sat on the bedside table.

That you hadn't picked up where you left off. His stuff slowly filling your draws again. His underwear in your washing. His pictures filling up your phone. Because neither of you could take the questions right now. The same claims Kelly had thrown in your face, that your broke him, and you would again.

You both just wanted to give it a shot first. A real, proper shot at being happy. Before everyone gave their two cents. Was that really so much to ask for?

Piama reached up, and patted your head.

"I know you two think you're being subtle, but in case you haven't noticed, he hasn't stopped smiling since the anniversary party"

You lifted your head, and looked down at her. Then back at Reese, spitting out a mouthful of dirt and tackling his brother at full force into a bush.

"Yeah, good idea. I mean, it's been 12 years. We've changed"

He did a small half shrug, words mumbled against your pulse point. Your nails digging into his back. You moved your hands up to his hair to avoid drawing blood, silently annoyed he always kept it so short.

"Yep, we have-oh God-so much time to re-build this relationship"

He hummed, mouthing at your collarbone. Judging the highest point he could get away with leaving just the smallest hint of a mark. Just low enough to hide behind your shirt collar, but just high enough to make you adjust it all day. Nerves filling you chest as you leaned forward or turned too much.

After the party had been a blur.

Glitter and shouting. The same old fights re-hashed a thousand times over. It was like being home. Finally, home. Hal taking Lois to bed and feeding her a mountain of painkillers. Francis and Malcom fighting all night until they both feel asleep on Kelly's bed. Kelly giving up the couch to Piama and falling asleep on the floor in a pile of coats, laptop closed and Dewy in his own comfy bed with some leggy French lady. Tristan taking Leah to a local motel just for the space. Somehow still mad at Malcom for...everything, you guessed. Leaving just you and Reese in the garden. Spraying him with the hose as he complained about the water being too cold. Glitter filling the lawn in sparkling puddles. Moonlight making him look like something straight out of twilight. Boxers clinging to pasty long legs, hair dripping down his cheeks, and still as lean as you remembered.

The garage was unclaimed.

And that really was the beginning of the end.

You didn't even think the family noticed you climb into the car with them. Sat on Reese lap all the way back in the boot of Malcom's sedan as they drove home in a flurry of raised voices and sparkling silver. And maybe that was for the best. Because what was this? What even was last night, this morning? The taste of him still on your tongue, glitter still stuck to places it should never be found. Your clothes littering the floor, his suit still draped over the washing line. Boxers in an almost dry heap on the floor next to your heels. You didn't even have a change of clothes.

The walk of shame would be so obvious.

Too much champagne buzzing through your bloodstream. Too much dancing and laugher and food. Good food. Food that even Reese had praised all night. Full and content and warm, so warm. Heart swelling and nerves relaxing. The tension of 12 years just melting out of you. Falling into a familiar rhythm that neither of you were even aware of.

And here he was, biting your collarbone as the sun rose and the sheets sparkled. Half hard against your thigh and softly rutting there. Like so many mornings gone by. Half asleep and pushing him off with a giggle. Whining about being late for work. Saving time by showering together. Shoving a slice of bread between your lips as you ran out the door, mumbling 'I love you's.

Only you didn't have a shift to get to now, no bus to catch, no calls to take. Just time. Nothing but time and him and want. So much want.

"I don't have any clothes-"

"Yeah, you do. They're just on the floor"

His mouth kept moving down. Lips brushing against your sternum, hand trailing down your side and to your thigh. Gripping and lifting it. Hooked over his hip as he slid closer.

"Oh fu-you know what I mean. I think your family is going to catch on when I walk out of here in the same dress I arrived in"

You tugged on his hair, just hard enough to pull him away from his task of kissing every inch of your body he could find. He rested his chin on your chest, tilting his head so his cheek rested against your breast. Rising and falling with each heaved breath.

"There's some clothes in a box down the back. Stuff from high school. Steal that"

His eyes were so pretty. Soft and vulnerable. Looking up at you with so much longing. Hips stilled, hand squeezing. Just...smiling. Smiling up at you like you were his whole world. Like there was nothing in the universe but you and him and the heat of your bodies, the golden rays of the sun. Sex and sweat and gentle touches.

"Yeah, steal that"

Only there was a world outside of body heat and soft eyes.

A world that had suddenly come crashing in as Francis' voice echoed front the door, left unlocked in your hast to get your own clothes off. His fingers slipping under your straps, hiking up your dress.

You both looked towards him. Deer's in the headlights for just a moment before you quickly pushed Reese off you, tugging the sheets high up over your chest, covering yourself as he grumbled a groan about you always being too rough. One sheet corner covering his modesty. But he didn't care. It was his brother.

His very angry, disappointed looking brother who was now pacing in front of the unlocked door with a manic look in his eye.

"You couldn't let me have my moment huh? I was moving up the list and now this?! Who knows how many spaces my baby is going to take back from you two re-kindling your childhood romance!"

You blinked. Pride swelling in your chest.

"You're having a baby?"

He paused, tensions falling from his shoulders. Mouth moving, but no sound coming out. Like he had just realised what he had said. That he was going to be a father.

"Uh, yeah. I guess...I guess I am"

You reached back blindly, slapping at Reese's chest.

"Reese, get me some clothes. I need to hug your bother"

"But-We-He...fine"

You saw him out of the corner of your eye grabbing a pillow and shoving it over his crotch. Bare ass leaving the bed to go dig around in the aforementioned boxes. Pulling out basketball shorts and one of his old hoodies.

The blue one. You always liked the blue one.

He threw them onto your lap, moving to stand next to his brother. Tugging on his shoulder to turn him around.

You barely held back the giggle bubbling in your throat at the sight of them. One dressed and one bare.

"Have you told everyone?"

"I did. They didn't care with the party and Malcom's secret child"

You hunted around the floor for your underwear. Finding it under the bed and slipping it on, followed by the shorts.

"Where's Piama?"

You pulled the hoodie over your head. Still oversized, even after all these years.

"Still asleep on the couch-"

"The couch?!"

You quickly made sure you were covered and grabbed Reese shoulder, spinning him around.

"You let a pregnant woman sleep on the couch while you fucked me in a fully functioning bed!?"

He went to raise his hands defensively, only for the pillow to slip and remind him why they were down there.

"Hey! I didn't know she was on the couch! Where'd Francis sleep anyway? She's his wife!"

You turned to Francis who was sheepishly scratching at his neck. Only half turned around.

"I slept in Kelly's room-"

"In Kelly's-god I hate you so much"

Reese smirked.

"That not how it seemed last night-"

"Shut up or I'm biting it off next time"

"So there will be a next time?"

He looked far to satisfied with himself as you galred at him. Eyes darting down to those stretched, pink lips almost involuntary. Heat rising up behind your skin.

Francis groaned. Fully facing you now.

"Can you two stop bantering for a second and let me know if I'm keeping this a secret or not. My position on the list depends on it"

It was your turn to look sheepishly. Picking at your fingers and avoiding his gaze.

"We havent talk about that-"

"We've barley talked at all to be fair-Ow!"

You reached out. Pinching Reese nipples between your fingers and twisting. Making him smack your hands away and rub at them with a pout. Checking they were still attached as you rolled your eyes. Arms crossed and eyebrow cocked.

"I forgot how annoying you two are when you're together. My mouth is shut for 24 hours only, got it?"

Francis pointed between you both until you nodded. Then turned to face Reese, finger in his face and eyes sharp.

"You're cooking breakfast"

Resses jaw dropped in indignation.

"Why me?"

"Mums injured, Dad's still high, and you have the culinary qualification"

He huffed, then groaned.

And then relented.

"Fine. Give me ten to put my junk away"

He kept glaring as he stomped over to Francis' suitcase and dug around for a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. His underwear scooped up along the way.

"And shower or something. You reek of sinful activities"

Reese narrowed his eyes, pants pulled half over his hips, and pointedly picked up a can of deodorant. Dousing himself in a cloud of it.

You and Francis both coughed, waving away the cloud and heading for the door. Cracking it open just enough for some fresh air. His hand on your shoulder. Squeezing it softly as he looked between you both. You in Reese's clothes, your shoes on the floor, the bed sheets messy, and a ripped silver wrapper sticking out from under the pillows.

"Are you sure about this?"

You looked down at your bare feet. Cold against the concrete floor. Blue hoodie soft against your chin and filled with so many memories it made your head feel full and fuzzy.

Then you looked over at him, hopping as he pulled on a sock, tumbling over to the matress with a quiet swear word or two, and smiled. Really smiled. For the first time in years.

12 years, to be precise.

"I think I might be"

Francis sighed. Long and low. Filled with relief. Pulling you into a hug before pulling away and making his way out the door.

"Good, because you were always my favourite. The others could never get him smiling like such a lovesick goof ball"

The cold breeze licked at your skin. Sun shining onto you. The smell of nature wafting through the air and into your nostrils.

And then the door was shut.

And you were left standing there trying to process that statement. Body suddenly stiff and throat dry.

"Others?"

It came out as a whisper. Mumbled to the door more than the room. Your eyes unfocused and welling. Itchy and wet.

"What?"

You turned. Slowly, deliberately. Like a cornered animal. Looking at him, finally dressed and smoothing down his hair with his hands.

"Francis, he said others"

It was his turn to freeze. Fingers in his hair and eyes going from vague to fearful. Gulping harshly.

"Oh yeah...about that-"

"You got engaged after me?"

"Not engaged. Just married a few times-"

"Married?!"

You threw up your hands, letting out a scoffing laugh full of nerves and anger. Scrubbing your face with your hands and falling to the edge of the bed. Head hanging low and sucking in deep breaths to stop the stinging of your eyes.

"Look, I was lonely and-"

"So was I. And I didn't get shacked up to the first guy I came across"

You spat the words out as he circled around the bed, coming to sit next to you. Matress dipping and smelling like Francis. Musky and woody.

"Two girls one guy, actually"

You blinked. Tears slowly falling.

"Three...you've been married to three people?"

"Five if you count Raduca and that guy from Africa"

He reached for your hand.

"Are you mad?"

You snatched it away. Wiping at your cheeks instead.

"I don't know what I am"

And you didn't, you really didn't. You had broken up with him. You had ended things on an assumption and left with a duffle bag of clothes and an empty ring finger. You didn't have any room to judge him on the years that had passed with him as a free man. He could date. He could propose. You didn't own him.

But the three dates you had been on, the two late night hook ups and the one messy kiss at the Christmas work party had left you feeling so guilty that you had just...given up. Mind always wandering back to him. How the guy beneath you didn't moan like he did, didn't know how to make you feel as good as him. Who kissed with too much tongue or not enough. Who didn't know your favourite flowers or bought you the wrong chocolates. It wasn't their fault. You were just so used to being known, inside and out, that you never gave them the opportunity to build a database.

So you sat at home with your microwaved dinners and watched old movies until you fell asleep and dreamed of him. His hands, his lips, his cooking.

"12 years, Reese. 12 years I tried to date, tried to move on and I couldn't. And you...you were collecting rings like Sonic"

He was silent. Too silent. So you looked over at him and saw his eyes just as wet as yours. Bottom lip trembling.

"None of them lasted more than three months. They all got sick of me"

His voice was small. Fearful almost.

"You changed me. But when you left, I couldn't keep it up. I just reverted back into my old annoying self"

He wicked away a tear before it fell. Sniffing harshly and clearing his throat.

"I'm sleeping at work next to the mop and bucket, using the paper towel rolls as a matress. I come home every other weekend and pressure dad into some DIY project just for the company. I have no friends, no partner, and a shoe box filled with dirty underwear to send to pervs and some cash because that's all I have to my name"

You blinked. Sitting and listening. The most vulnerable he had been with you in the last 24 hours. Hurt and embarrassed. The same kid who used to hide behind his fists and pranks. Hurting others before they could hurt him. Small and fragile and so Reese it made your heart ache.

"I'm a loser. But with you...I was somebody. It was stupid to think I could find another you"

He didn't look at you as he stood up. Standing over you for a second. Forcing himself to look at you. Properly for what he hoped wasn't the last time. Your eyes darted away, cheeks hot and skin crawling.

"Your fly's undone"

You mumbled it. Reaching out to fix him up as he sighed and let you. Taking a step back when you were done and tucking in his shirt, heading for the door.

"If you move the surfboard there's a loose panel behind it that leads to the clearing out back. No one will see you"

His hand flicked towards the surfboard, dusty and fading. The wood behind it letting in sunlight through its cracks.

"Thanks for humouring me. I hope you have a good life"

His hand rested on the door knob, turning it as you shot up. Reaching out for his arm only to come up short. Brushing against his sleeve instead.

"Wait..."

His hand tightened on the knob. Knuckles white.

"What? You got something to say"

You gulped. Lump filling your throat, making it tight. You didn't want to leave it like this. End this reunion on such a sour note. But you couldn't figure out how to fix it. How to thin the air and go back to moments ago with him hovering above you with a smile across his face.

So you dropped you hand, and mumbled.

"I...I don't know"

He gripped the knob so tight it shook. Taking in a breath so deep, it raised and dropped his shoulders.

"Look, I know all I do is make mistakes. I always mess up and hurt your feelings, and that's probably not going to change. But..."

His grip lossened, just slightly.

"I really enjoyed last night. And if this is the last time we talk for another 12 years...well, I'm ok with that"

His head hung low, eyes just glancing over his shoulder at you, standing there sheepishly. Shrinking away from it all. Hurt and sad and confused. The crescents of his nails still indented into your hips. Your faint teeth marks still adorning his shoulder.

And he smiled. Soft and empty.

"Hurts a lot less than an engagement ring to the head"

He turned the handle, and you lurched once more. Snagging one of his belt loops between your fingers and tugging. He didn't look at you.

"I don't want to come to breakfast. Not because of you or us. But because I want Francis to have his moment"

He didn't nod, didn't turn. Just stood there. Hand still gripping the door knob. Muscles in his jaw popping.

"Would you be free for coffee sometime? I'll pay"

Silence, for a beat, and then his grip loosened, and he turned around, smiling at you with that same ease he always did. Like all the hurt of moments ago had already been buried away, deep down.

"Well, if you're paying, how can I say no?"

He pressed a peck against your cheek and then he was gone. Out the door and into the house. Leaving you to pick up your things and shuffle behind the surfboard in a daze until you were home free.

At least you thought you were home free.

"Fuck, Kelly. You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing sneaking around the woods?"

You jumped almost a foot in the air as they appeared from the bushes, standing there with crossed arms and a pointed look. Dressed in one of Malcolm's old shirts and some jeans. Hair still messy from waking up, only half smoothed down and full of leaves.

"What are you doing sneaking around the woods? And in my brothers clothes, no less. Did you hook up?"

You looked down. The hoodie, your dress in your arms, your heels hanging off your pinky. And sighed.

"That's...none of your business"

You held the bundle closer to your chest. Face already hot as you did the walk of shame you were trying to avoid. Pushing past Kelly only to have them grab your arm so tight it hurt.

"You're going to break his heart again"

You winced and wrenched your arm free.

"I don't plan to. And anyway, he broke mine first"

They scoffed, eyes rolling and foot tapping into the soft dirt. It put your teeth on edge. Still raw from moments ago. Tears not even dry yet. Eyes red and sore and throat still itching. Every nerve exposed and adrenaline still running through your veins. The heat of his kiss still lingering on your cheek.

"He's a dumbass. You knew that when you accepted the ring-"

"You were 4. You don't even remember what he was like"

It came out snappy. Body hot and angry. Frustrated and exhausted. Shaking lightly.

"We had a whole life before you. I had my first kiss on his bed and got my boob groped for the first time on his couch. Hell, I gave my first handjob in that garage. Behind the paint tins. He took me to prom and dipped me so far under the disco ball I smacked my head into the gym floor, so he rushed me home and held an ice pack to my head all night, checking my pupils and refusing to let me sleep incase he gave me a concussion"

You gestured to the back of the garage behind you. Letting out a manic scoff of a laugh. Kelly opened their mouth...then closed it as you continued.

"I'm the one who said 'I love you' first, while he drove us to Lucky Aid to pick up Lois from night shift just because he made me a mix tape of all my favourite songs to listen to whenever he drove me anywhere from now on. He almost crashed the car into the Phillmans letter box because he couldn't stop looking at me with this big goofy smile on his face. And you...you weren't even born yet"

You looked up at them. More tears, more stinging and welling. Voice lowering. Heart heavy.

"You weren't born until we were years deep into loving each other. Years deep into hating each other. And I know you grew up in the aftermath, and I know he's your brother. But, Kelly, you don't know how much I hurt. Only how much he did"

You reached out, taking their hand in yours. Holding it gently as you tucked your bundle under your arm.

"So, no, I'm not planning on breaking his heart. But if you go into this already hating me, hating us...then what chance do we stand? As much as he's a dick to you, he's still your brother. He vaules your opinion"

And he did. He really did. In the moments between all he could talk about was his family. How annoying Malcolm still was, how much he missed Jamie being small. How Kelly was doing in their classes and how much he had missed Francis, how much he still missed Dewey. Gushing with animated hand movements that only stilled when you reached out and took them in yours.

He loved him family.

He loved them so much.

You let go of their hand, cupping their cheeks instead. Thumbs brushing against the youthful fat covering their cheekbones. Soft with pale freckels. They looked like Lois. In the same way Reese did.

"You've grown up so much. I'm sorry I missed it"

You let your hands linger just a moment longer before you dropped them. Sniffling and squirming in the dirt. Your feet bare.

"I won't tell anyone"

Their voice was so quite, you almost didn't hear it. Looking up at them and matching their soft smile. Deflating almost, as the conversation drew to an end.

"Thanks, I appreciate it. Stay in school. Be like...I was going to say Malcolm, but honestly, aim for Dewey. He somehow turned out to be the most well-adjusted"

You moved your bundle back to your chest. Giving them one last fond look before rushing away. Walking all the way back to your hotel room. Your card key still in your purse...hopefully.

You didn't see Kelly pull their phone from their back pocket. Dewey's picture filling the screen as the active call was still running.

"You hear that?"

"Every word"

"And?"

"Jamie's really more well adjusted-"

By the time you looked up, all you managed to catch was a soft smile being tucked back over his shoulder and away from you. Two sets of ginger hair gliding away as his twin spoke quitely yet adamantly into his ear about something hiding in the restricted section.

You looked back down at your book, reading the line of text and fixing your paper as you wiped the wetness from your eyes with the back of your hand.

You had never been given such a high mark in your life.

That night, graded paper tucked into your robe pocket and pastries from the kitchen in shaking hands, you approached him during dinner. Mumbling out a thank you and clumsily handing over the bundle of sweets before bolting away with heated cheeks.

You could hear the table snickering. His friend's slapping him on the back and poking fun before tearing into the pastries themselves. Powered sugar on their cheeks and cream on their noses.

You let yourself glance over your shoulder once. Just the once. And caught him with that same soft smile on his face.

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

From that point on, it didn't matter where you studied. If you were struggling, he was there.

At the black lake as you chewed your quill to ruin under a tree, a soft hand picking up an adabonded textbook and handing it over. Opened to the exact page you needed.

In an empty hallway between classes, looking down at another fail mark with wobbling lips, a quill appearing and fixing one or two words that helped you pass your makeup test. A handkerchief mysteriously appearing in your pocket.

Tucked away in a dark corner of the three broomsticks finishing up your homework with a half drunken butter beer in front of you. A slip of parchment slid across stained wood with the text books page numbers written on it, the exact sections you had left to complete.

It was like he had some kind of sixth sense when it came to you. Like he was always watching, always aware of where you were at any and all moments. Apperating into thin air before dropping some assistance and disappearing as soon as he arrived.

It wasn't until your fith year that you even got to actually talk to him. Not just hearing his voice as one of the loudest in the crowd or following some explosion that him and his brother were always quickly running away from.

Being moved up from the beginners to the intermediate charms class. With his help, of course. Paired up for practical practice of a transfiguration charm on a water goblet, making it jump across the table and fill itself with water from a bucket.

He had that same soft smile. Charming the goblet easily. Filled and emptied as he nudged your side for you to take your turn. Wand wobbling and the goblet leaping rather than jumping. Clattering to the ground as you tired again. And again. And again. Until your chest felt tight and your throat felt raw.

Then suddenly, he was behind you. Hand sliding down your robe covered arm until it was engulfing your much smaller one. Long fingers adjusting your grip. Wand sitting much more naturally in your hand. Like it was an extension of your arm and not just some stick you had to believe could do wonderful things.

"Just relax. The wand can feel it if you're not confident. Don't let your nerves win"

His breath brushed across the shell of your ear. Sending a shiver up your spine as you bit the inside of your cheek and nodded stiffly. Trying to take in a deep breath and let it out slowly only for the whole process to come off more shaky than relaxing. Flicking your wand and mumbling your Latin as the goblet jumped across the table and dunked itself. Returning to sit a bit clumsily as your face broke out in a wide smile. Turning to face him with gratitudes dying on your lips.

Because he was close.

Too close.

Noses almost brushing together. Breath intermingling. Licking your lips and watching his eyes dart down to them. Fixated on the pink tip of your tongue as it tucked itself back away. The world freezing for a moment too long. Chatter and spilled water muffled by the blood pounding through your ears. His hand still holding yours.

Then you were both doused in freezing cold water. Fred laughing as Lee punched his shoulder, their bucket hovering upturned above you both.

George grumbled something as Professor Flitwick climbed off his footstool with dangling boots and made his way over in small steps to yell at the duo. His wand flicking behind him as his brother was picked up by the foot and hung mid-air. Shaking the sweets, quills, and balls of crumpled parchment from his pockets before letting him drop with a thump and shout.

"That's it, detention for you both! You too Mr Jordan"

Lee and Fred protested. Well, mostly Lee, as Fred picked up his things, glaring at his brother who was grinning, wide and self satisfied. Hair dripping into his eyes and robs clinging to his skin.

"Worth it"

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

By seventh year, you still had not exchanged more than a few words. But that didn't mean that you didn't spend a lot of time together.

Sitting next to eachother in the library and studying. The end of his quill pointing to diagrams and sentences when your brow furrowed for a moment too long, getting you back on track before continuing with his own work.

Laying on the grass and waving his wand softly through the air while you read, overlooking the black lake or forbidden forest. Pulling sweets from his pockets and sharing them. Gathering the wrappers as he left and slipping a daisy chain he had been conjuring upon your head.

Placing hot chocolates or butter beers on your table at the three broomsticks. A chocolate frog or every flavoured beans box accompanying them. Honeydukes bag hanging from his fingertips. Sometimes he'd hold out his hand for a few treats, throwing them back and wincing or smiling depending on the flavour he got, before Lee or Fred's voice would call him back with promises of Zonkos or Spintwitches trips.

It wasn't until Dumbeldore's army began to form that you got up close and personal once more. Him slipping you the meeting location written on self incinerating parchment between classes. Playing off the close contact as an accidental bump as Umbridge glared at the two of you, wand raised and ready to shoot some spell your way as punishment.

He had saved you seat at the Hogshead. Patting it as you walked in holding your bag strap tight, yellow scarf wrapped up to your nose and matching gloves barely helping your fingers keep their feeling.

He had slipped off his own gloves as Harry talked. Taking your hands in his and rubbing the heat back into them. Never glancing your way, still focused on Harry and Hermione. Ron acting as their guard dog, shutting down stupid questions and letting his friends say their piece.

You didn't talk when the meeting was over. Lagging behind Lee and Fred as you all walked back to the castle in silence. George taking one of your hands and shoving it into the pocket of his coat as you sniffled against the snow.

You didn't have your next proper conversation until Harry's classes began. Being paired up for disarming charms. Horribly embarrassed as the rest of your seventh year peers helped the younger ones while you still couldn't disarm the dummy no matter how hard you tried. The reality of it all setting in. The war begining. Cedric dead, dressed in your house colours. And you, completely and utterly unable to defend yourself or others against the horrors to come.

"You're tense again. The wand knows, remember?"

He was pressed against your back again. Hand stilling your shaking one. Pulling your fingers into the correct positioning and pointing it back at the dummy.

It felt like your heart was beating out your chest. Hammering on your ribs so hard you were scared they might break. His torso firm against your back. Boiling hot heat radiating through your jumper. His sleeves rolled up and his tie loose. That same soft smile painted across his face.

"S-sorry. I can't help it"

Your voice was small. Shaking in the air as he softly flicked your wrist through the motions. Getting you used to the feeling of the spell.

You cleared your throat and tried again. Voice louder this time. Steadier.

"I've been a muggle longer than I've been a witch. It still feels...unreal. Like I'm dreaming it all"

He hummed. A rumble low in your ear. Shaking your spine and catching your breath in its vibrations.

"Try it like this..."

He flicked your hand. And you muttered the spell. The dummy's wand flying across the room in a spark of blue.

You made a small noise of surprise. A mix of shock and victory. Turning to face him. Looking over your shoulder with a wide grin on your face and hair falling into your face. His eyes darting down to your lips again. Licking his own this time. Corner of his mouth fixed in a cheeky smirk. Pupils engulfing speckled brown.

Then Harry slapped his back and jolted his attention away from the gloss on your lips and the white of your teeth.

"Good job, guys. We're wrapping up in five for dinner if you want to help pack up?"

George took a step away, dropping your hand and reverting back to his cool composure. Heels clacking together and hand raised in a mock salute accompanied by a teasing wink.

"Anything for you, professor"

Harry rolled his eyes and poked his side as he left. Joining Neville who was struggling to push the dummy's back into the closest they had come from.

The moment broken and the chatter of the room returning, you helped pick up the discarded prop wands and roll dummy's over for storage. Giggling as George conjured a mop and made it clean the spell dust from the floor. Lee running for the door and slipping in one of its puddles. Ass hitting the floor with a thump and Fred almost slipping with him as he gripped his belly and laughed his heart out.

The room was empting. The floors clean and the closet shut. Harry lagging behind to stare at Cho Chang just that little bit longer. Ron getting ready to make a comment before Hermionie's sharp elbow stopped him in his tracks.

George was walking you to the door. Feet as slow as yours. Like you didn't want to separate just yet. His body heat still reaching your fingers, your perfume swirling through his brain.

You stopped just before the door. Plucking up all your courage and turning to face him. Praying your voice didn't crack, that your hands didn't shake.

"Would you like to see the kitchens? It's a Wednesday. They make treacle tarts on Wednesday's"

He smiled. Bright and wide. Eyes sparkling and scanning your face. Trying to catch your darting eyes as he leaned down, just enough to be face to face.

"I'd like-"

"You coming or what? We've got that thing...remember?"

It was Fred interrupting the moment this time. His second proper irruption since charms class. Gripping his brothers arm and pulling him towards the door. Giving him a pointed look as George opened his mouth to protest. Jaw clicking shut and a sigh pushed out through his nose. Eyes closing to re-center him as he turned towards you with an apologetic look.

"Sorry. Another time, maybe?"

All you could do was nod. Lump in your throat, feet shuffling a step backwards. Hands tucked behind you and head hanging low.

"Yeah, another...another time"

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

"So you're just not going to tell her?"

Fred was packing fireworks in the abandoned classroom they had fashioned into their own warlocks lab. Black smeared on his cheeks and sleeves rolled up. Tie and jumper discarded as he added in pigments and crunched herbs into the mix to really make it pop. George across from him, sealing the filled cylinders and mumbling formation charms before stacking them into worn messenger bags.

"I am...just not yet"

Fred hummed. Then sneezed. Powder tickling his nose and dying his fingers orange as the half filled cyclinder slipped from his hands.

"You'll break her heart before you've even got it-"

"And how am I meant to get it when you're pulling me out of kitchen dates?"

George's voice was harsh. Annoyed. Stuffing the fireworks a bit too aggressively into the bag. Fantasies of kissing you in the storage cupboards and tasting treacle on your tongue filling his mind. Your gloss transferred to his lips. His hand sneaking under your jumper and shirt until he could feel warm skin sinking under his fingertips. Your thighs shaking, swallowing all the small noises you would make as he bit at your lips and pulled you closer. House elves grumbling about needing the sugar bags he was pressing you into.

He pulled the powder towards him. Switching jobs to keep his hands busy and his mind empty. Filling cylinders messily as Fred hung his head and pulled out his wand, sealing charms spurting from the tip.

"Well, if you had just grown a pair and talked to her back in third year-"

George picked his wand back up with powder covered fingers. Holding it threateningly in his brothers face. Silencing charm dying in the wind before it even reached his lips.

"You owe me a box of treacle tarts"

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

After Umbridge's new rule separating boys and girls was put in place, your quiet hangouts slowly faded away. Smiling at each other in class. Catching his eyes when you passed each other in the hallways. You almost managed to start a conversation with him a few times during meals in the great hall. But you were quickly separated by the busy body Inquisitorial Squad members.

That's why you squeaked in such an embarrassingly surprised manner when one night, while walking back to your dorm just a few minutes shy of curfew, someone grabbed you. Smelling of sweets and ink. Pulling you behind a tapestry and hushing you as the tapping footsteps of the prefects wandered past.

The tapestry hid a stairwell that lead up to an empty classroom. Windows blown out and the night sky sparkling in its empty arches. George's face lighting up at he conjured a glow globe. Smiling, but not softly, almost...nervously.

He sat down, and you sat down next to him. Watching his fingers play with his wand. The clearing of his throat filling the silence.

"Me and Fred....were not going to take our NEWTs"

You blinked. Hands sitting limply in your lap.

"But you're so smart-"

"It's not that"

He shook his head. Swallowing harshly and running his hands through shaggy hair. Strands clean and silky and in desperate need of a trim. Shimmering like starlight.

"We have this dream-well, I guess it's a plan now that Harry's helped us out with the money"

He dug through the pockets of his robe, pulling out a sketch book. Bent and messy and filled with formula's and product diagrams that you didn't have a hope in hell of understanding. Hand writing messy and half drawn drafts of their Skiving Snackbox flyers stuck between the pages.

You flicked through. Fascinated and amazed. The way he could bend magic to his will as if it was just second nature. As if the magic that ran through your veins and his was not the same. His a part of his blood, born with it and fused to his very being while yours remained...foreign. As if it had been injected into you while you were distracted by your birthday cake.

You handed the book back. He tucked it away. Disappearing between the folds of his robes once more.

"We're dropping out. Just before testing"

He stood up, taking your hand and helping you to your feet. Fishing through his pockets once more as your face fell, realising the last few months you had with him had suddenly disappeared. Your future still so uncertain and the possibility of never seeing him again slapping you in the face like cold water.

He handed you a small business card. Enchanted to spark at your touch and the rough drawing of a man lifting a hat with a rabbit underneath it moving with each turn of the card. An address on the back and 'Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' written above it in a curling orange font.

"I hope you'll come visit us. There's not many things I'll miss about this place but...you're definitely one of them"

You nodded. Heart swelling at that last small admission.

He walked you back to your dorm. Weaving you through hallways you didn't even know existed, avoiding the Inquisitorial Squad's wrath as you bid him a good night and disappeared behind the barrels.

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

That day was full of light and noise. Sparks landing and disappearing in the air. Flying above you on his broom and laughing the whole time. Forwards through the air and a dragon chasing Umbridge out of the great hall with all the fith years laughing behind her. Everyone slowly gathering in the court yard as a whole new display was set off. Noise and light drawing the school out of the shadows.

A giant 'W' filling the air as they ducked and flew over the crowd. Catching your eye before disappearing into the sky. Everyone cheering around you. The smell of powder and soot filling the air.

His smile had faulted, just slightly. Just for the brief moment he was looking at you. A sadness filling his eyes and the corners of his mouth dropping as you shared an almost silent goodbye.

His business card tucked into your breast pocket.

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

You only just graduated. Your NEWTs passed but scores still low. Limiting you possible magical world jobs and leaving you with minimal muggle life skills to find work that way. Sat in your parents' house and twiddling your thumbs as they tried to help. Tried to understand why you were so lost.

But every job was too hard. Even working with your family seemed almost impossible. You didn't remember how to use a phone. Computers were so new, and you had had pretty much no time to get to know how to use one. You kept counting Galleons and Sickles instead of pounds and pence. And for the first time in your life, you felt naked without your wand.

So you sulked and picked up odd jobs here and there. Considering packing it in, forgetting you ever even had magic and just trying to re-intregrate into society. Become a boring muggle once again with a job and a car and bills.

But as you were packing away your uniform, you found it.

The little sparking business card.

And you felt yourself smile, properly smile, for the first time since he darted away on his broom.

So here you were, floo powder residue on your hands and standing in front of the shining new shop amongst the back to school shoppers with arms full of textbooks and cauldrons and sticking out like a sore thumb in your muggle clothes that you forgot to mask under robes just that bit better before returning to the wizarding world. His name on the sign. Fred's face lifting the hat up and down. And full, absolutely full to the brim, with people.

You sucked in a deep breath and stepped inside. The bell above the door jingling and colours suddenly filling your eyes.

It was....wonderful.

All the parts of magic you'd forgotten you loved. Warm and creative and fun. Joyful in a way you hadn't been able to grasp since Cedric's death. Sugar quills and Canary creams filling the shelves. Girls walking past and giggling as they held small vials of Crush Blush. Boys laughing themselves to tears in front of the U-Know-Poo display.

And it just kept going. Deep into the store and up a set of staris. Filled to the brim with amazing products dreamed up between classes and late night meetings. Every inch of the sketch book brought to life in front of your eyes.

Stuck in a sense of awe, wide-eyed and slack jawed when he found you. Bumping your shoulder and smiling brightly as you jumped and turned towards him. The crowd parting around you.

"I was beginning to think you'd never come"

You blinked. His eyes were still that soft brown with hazel flecks. His cheeks still painted in freckels. His smile still filling his face so perfectly.

"You cut your hair"

He chuckled and nodded. Sheepily reaching up to smooth out a side. Bringing you back to reality and remembering his original question.

"Sorry, I mean I've been busy with family and-"

"Do you like it?"

You paused. He tugged on a short strand. Gel pushing the front back into a feathered style.

"What?"

"The hair. Do you like it shorter?"

You blinked again. Lost in the way his eyes kept boring into yours, as if he had forgotten your face and wanted to scan every inch of it anew.

"I liked it best in sixth year. But I like it short too. Just...not too short"

You tried to play it off. A nervous and huffed laugh joining the end of your sentence. Pulling a flirty smile in your direction.

"Don't go bald. Noted"

His hand dropped from his hair, eyes wandering to your lips once more. Coated in gloss and shimmering in the sparks coming from Fred's wand on the second floor.

He cleared his throat, holding out his hand.

"Here, I'll show you around"

And show he did. Every shelf, every draw. All the nooks and crannys. Samples passed your way and freebies tucked into your bag when you weren't looking. Your cheeks hurting from smiling so much. His voice refreshing you, calming all your nerves. Your life's troubles melting away with each step.

He had finished the tour behind the counter, in a small hallway that led to the storage rooms and his and Fred's office. Away from the crowds and the noise. Stood on creaking floorboards and lit by candle light.

"So, what do you think?"

You looked down at the nose biting teacup in your hands that your dad would surely get laugh out of next Christmas when you gave it to your uncle.

"It's...amazing"

He let the silence hang there for a moment. Hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers. Blazer pushed open and buttons straining ever so slightly across his chest, hidden beneath his tie.

"We could use a sale assistant"

He had ducked his head. A small tilt and hopefully eyes cast your way.

"Really? Me? But I'm not good at-"

"You don't have to be good at magic to work in a magic shop"

He removed a hand from his pocket. Finding your fingers and brushing against them until your hand was freed from the box. Running across your palm and over your fingertips so lightly it almost tickled.

"And anyway, I'll help you"

You looked down at your hands. Then back up to him. That same soft smile from third year and beyond directed your way. Something hidden behind his eyes that you couldn't quite pinpoint, but a girly hope of yours identified it as longing.

Your mind raced. You didn't have much better options right now. And you'd be working retail in the muggle world anyway. This way, you could still have some connections to magic, even if you never felt the urge to use it again.

And you would see him every day. With his gelled hair and colourful suits. Hazel flecked eyes and bright smiles.

"Ok, that...that would be great. When do I start?"

His face lit up the hallway brigher than the candle flame.

"As soon as you can"

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

The job was good. It was fun. Full of life and laughter. George passing you on the checkout as you counted galleons, catching your eye while he continued to yammer away to customers and talk shop to Fred. His wand raised and lifting heavy boxes from your hands and onto the shelves when you automatically started stacking them by hand out of habit. Passing you paper bags filled with sandwiches and pastries when he ducked out to pick up lunch.

You wanted to earn enough to stay close by. Rent a room maybe so you could stop ruining your mother's carpet with floo powder residue.

And you did.

After a few months of hard work and your existing savings, you found a room for rent at The Three Sheets. One bedroom, one bathroom, and a small living space, including a modest kitchenette. It didn't take you long to move in. Your dad spending most of his time puking in the toilet from floo powder sickness while you and mum laid out blankets and throw pillows. Stacked dishes in cupboards and made your bed up with clean sheets.

His business card stuck to the fridge.

His handkerchief drapped over the fireplace.

Your dad slowly feeling better. Perking up just when the heavy lifting was done and all that was left was putting away clothes and soft toys. Opening boxes just to grumble about why you still needed so many teddy bears.

Then there was a knock at the door.

You opened it to find George standing there. Wearing a homemade jumper and jeans. Holding a box of treacle tarts and a bustle of flowers. Smile wide and bright, but slowly dimming down as he spotted your parents shuffling around behind you.

"Hey, you mentioned you were moving today, and I didn't want you to be alone, but..."

Your dad shot him a protective look. Your mother smacked his shoulder, muttering something under her breath about handsome young men.

"It looks like you have company already"

You didn't know what to say. Eyes locked on the flowers wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. Oranges and reds that matched his hair so perfectly staring back at you.

You jumped as your mother pressed a hand into the small of your back. Smiling tightly as heat welled up your neck, threatening to fill your cheeks. Shooting you a look that spoke a thousand words.

"We were just leaving, dear. You would be...George, right? My lovely girls boss?"

He shuffled the box and flowers in his arms. Reaching out a hand to shake hers. More polite than you had ever seen him.

"Yes, mam, that's me. I co-own the store with my brother, Fred. You should come see it sometime"

Your dad joined you, standing by your side and pressing a kiss against your temple.

"I'm sure the next time we're asked over for a cup of tea, she can spare some time to show us around"

You had never been so embarrassed by them. And they weren't even doing anything embarrassing. It was just strange to see your two worlds merge for the first time. All those holidays returning home and sharing stories about the boy who was helping you in class while your mum fawned and your dad glared. All those nights staring at the ceiling with your wand in your hand, practising the movements he had taught you. All the magic books tucked under your bed filled with his notes and dogged eared pages that helped you pass your OWLs and NEWTs by the skin of your teeth.

And now he was just standing there. Shaking your parents' hands and making small talk.

You stood there a bit too long doing nothing. Your mother softly pinching your side until you snapped back. Squirming on your feet and opening the door wide. Gesturing inside.

"Come in. I'll just...take these two home. Make yourself comfortable"

He stepped inside. Watching as you ushered your parents to the fireplace and disappeared in a flash of smoke. Giving them a pointed look as you helped them back into the house and kissed them goodbye. Giving them a silent warning not to say anything as your dad reeled up for 'the talk' before you returned to a man waiting in your unsupervised home. Freshly made bed just a few feet away.

When you returned, the flowers had been placed in a vase. The tarts set out on a plate. And he was standing over the box of soft toys leaning against the arm of your sofa. A stuffed orang-utan in his hands.

"He's cute. I didn't know you had a boyfriend"

You walked over, taking it from his hands and paying with the floppy arms. Fur worn and face fading from years of rubbing against its plastic cheeks.

"His arms are good for hugs"

George smiled. Humming as he lifted one fluffy ape arm to drap over your shoulder.

"I'll bet"

You put the toy back away. Closing the box and gesturing to the table, waiting until he was sat before making tea on the stove top. Leaves floating softly in the water as you added milk to your own cup, and sugar to his.

"Sorry, for intruding. If i knew you had company over..."

He took the cup gratefully. Not taking a sip until you were sat across from him.

"I just didn't want you forgetting your levitation charms and injuring yourself"

You nodded, picking up a tart and splitting it. Handing him the other half. Your toothbrush almost groaning aloud from the bathroom as the sickly sweet treat was lifted to your lips.

"And the tarts and flowers are because...?"

He shrugged, taking a bite and washing it down with sugary tea.

"Fuel and...pretty"

You knew he was talking about the flowers. But he didn't look at them when he said it.

He looked at you.

Crumbs on his cheeks and a flush beneath them that you were blaming on the jumper. It looked like proper wool. Nice and soft and warm. Too warm.

He finished his tart and tea. And so did you. Sitting in a comfortable silence like always. Until the sun had set and the room filled with a nightly chill.

"I should go, you look tired-"

"Stay"

He made a move to stand, and you reached out your hand. Covering his with your own. Anchoring him to the table.

"Please. We don't get much time to talk with the shop being so busy"

He sat back down. Slowly. Eyes fixed on where your hand lay over his. You snatched it back. Tucking it into your lap to fiddle with your fingers.

He nodded. Wand pulled from his sock and flicked towards the fireplace. Lighting it and filling the room with warmth. A candle conjured and set alight on the table. His eyes narrowing as the scent of cinnamon filled the room. Muggle candles sure were strange.

He pushed the tarts to the side. Watching the shadows across your face dance in the candle light.

"Did Fred not want to-"

"He's trying to perfect a new product. Been at it for hours. When I left, he was practically asleep at his desk with ink all over his face"

He chuckled. Eyes softening like they always did. Cups empty and air warm. His feet inches away from yours under the table. A hairs breath from brushing against each other.

The silence lingered. And he broke it first. You wanted to talk. He remembered that.

"I like working with you. I was scared, after our little stunt last year, that I might never get to see you again"

You smiled, memories of him looking so carefree in the air and the sparks flashing behind your eyes.

"Same. I didn't expect to lose you so close to the end"

Those same memories being replaced with the months after. You're hand coming up to press into your wrist. Evidenced of Umbridge's rule laying hidden away underneath your hoodie.

"It was lonely. I...didn't really have any friends. Just dorm mates, really. Without you I just..."

Your eyes were stinging. And he just watched. Waited. Brow furrowed. But you cut off that train of thought, shaking your head clear and willing your eyes dry.

"I really appreciate all your help. Without it...I don't think I would have graduated at all"

He reached a hand across the table. Palm facing upwards and fingers curled towards you.

"It's ok. I liked spending time with you. I love my brother. And Lee, of course. But it was nice to just sit sometimes. Without feeling the need to keep a conversation rolling or crack a joke every few minutes"

You lifted your hand own from your lap. Hesitantly placing it into his awaiting one. Fingers curled under your sleeve, tracing scar tissue letters with his index finger as you wrapped your own around his wrist. The wool as soft as you expected it to be.

"I felt so comfortable with you"

He pressed his index and middle finger against your pulse. Feeling how it pumped and jumped. Speeding up at his mear touch. Fingertips caloused from so many years of wand work and experimenting. Gripping his broom during quiddich and burning his fingers on potions gone wrong.

"I still do"

You looked up at him. Sucked into his gaze. The clock ticking and the fire crackling. Your orang-utans face stained with gloss from the nights you would curl up with it in bed and kiss it goodnight. Arms wrapped around your neck and nose burried in its orange fur. Wishing it was ginger hair.

He slipped his hand away. Chair squeaking against the floor as he stood up and snuffed out the candle.

"I'll let you get some rest. Big day tomorrow. Enjoy the tarts"

He headed for the door, hand already wrapped around the knob by the time you were able to get your body moving again.

"George"

His name slipped from your lips, lunging forwards and grabbing his arm just as he opened it. Hallway quiet and dark. You tugged his arm until he was bent low enough for you to reach his cheek. Pressing a kiss against against it. Stubble just starting to grow back and a gloss mark left against pale skin.

Pulling away and taking a step back as he straightened up. Eyes wide and smile almost goofy.

"Thank you"

He tried to compose himself. Ducking his head and heading out the door before the moonlight became bright enough for you to see how red his face had turned.

"Anytime"

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

"You kissed her cheek? I sent you all the way over there with flowers and my best pair of jeans for a kiss on the cheek?"

George had slumped down onto the sofa of their apartment above the shop. Socked feet kicked up on the coffee table and a very much awake Fred pacing in front of him. The smell of whatever he had cooked for dinner wafting through the air. None of it saved for him under the assumption that he would not be home that night. Doing the walk of shame in the morning before the shop opened with you trailing behind him.

"I didn't kiss her cheek. She kissed mine"

That just made Fred pace harder, hands thrown into the air.

"Wow, I knew you weren't exactly a ladies' man, but you're not even the one initiating the kissing-ow!"

George found one of the many books littering the apartment and threw it at him. Nailing his brother in the head as he rubbed at his temple and glared his way. Moving to throw it back only to give George the advantage, dodging it with ease.

"I was just...nervous. Her parents were there and she looked so tired. I didn't want to over stay my welcome-"

"At the rate you're going, there won't be a second welcome"

Fred had stopped pacing. Slumping down onto the sofa next to him. Bare feet kicked onto the coffee table.

"Just ask her out-"

"I can't"

Fred raised a challenging eyebrow. And George sighed. Deep and low. Hands coming up to rub at his face only to stop. You're gloss still on his cheek.

"We work together-"

"Oh excuses, excuses. I've been hearing one after another since third year. You're going to run out eventually, and then what? You going to run away and join a monastery? Take a vow of abstinence-"

"You want to know the real reason I won't ask her out?"

His voice was thick now. Frustrated and angry. Filling with a yearning that made his chest ache. And Fred just leaned in with a shit eating grin. Arms crossed and eyes full of that special kind of delight he got from pushing his brothers buttons.

"I would absolutely love that, mate"

It was George's turn to pace. Standing up and circling around the coffee table until he practically started retracing with brother's steps.

"What if we die in the war? What if we're on the front line and don't make it to the other side? What am I going to do? Leave her behind to mourn me?"

His hands were in his hair. Tugging and pulling. Pacing quickening.

"I won't put her through that. If we live to see the light at the end of this tunnel, I'll ask then. But not before. Not when she's already at so much risk just being muggle born. She doesn't need a blood traitor boyfriend to add another target to her back"

His hands were waving wildly. Feet going faster and faster. Until a set of hands landed on his shoulders, stilling him. Smirk gone, replaced instead with something darker, deeper. Something they never acknowledged. Not since Cedric's death knocked over the first domino in the chain.

"When the wars over, I'm holding you to that"

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

You were back in your childhood bedroom. Boxes stacked all around you, orang-utan curled against your chest. The small radio you hid under your bed frame turned on and sat against your pillow. Waiting for his voice to come through. The only voice that could stop your heart from beating so fast, your tears from falling thick and burning hot down your cheeks.

Your parents fireplace bricked up and removed from the floo registry. Every charm you could think of surrounding the entrances and your parents still confused by what was actually happening. Who this Lord Voldermort was and why he was so dangerous. Why he would care about them at all.

Orange fur tickled your nose when you heard it. That chipper tone cracking jokes and sharing cryptic news.

He was alive.

Still alive.

You closed your eyes and fell asleep just as Lee came on with the weather report.

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

The war raged on for so long that you never thought it would end. An essentials bag packed and never more than an arms reach away as you remained on edge, month after month. Listening to the radio, practising your wand movements and re-reading his notes in your textbooks over and over again. His business card and handkerchief never leaving your person.

And then it was over.

The radio fizzing to life one final time to announce his death. Harry Potter winning the battle and ridding the magical world from evil once more.

You cried with so much relief that your legs gave out. Trembling in your dad arms as he held you tight. Your mother rushing to get blankets and a cup of tea. Curled between them in their bed like a child all night. Finally sleeping, deeply and properly, for the first time in years.

You removed the bricks from the fireplace by hand. One by one. Sitting on the sofa day in and day out, waiting from him to pop through. To tell him yourself that everything was ok. He was safe. Fred was safe. Everyone was safe.

But after two weeks, your heart was so heavy it was weighing you down.

Then one day, it happened.

Your wand raised as the fireplace glowed green. Smoke billowing up its chimney and him stumbling out. Falling to the floor on his hands and knees. Hair long and dirty, stubble filling his cheeks and the stink of fire whiskey on his breath.

You rushed to his side. Pulling him close. Limp and heavy in your arms. Squeezing you too tight as he burried his nose into your neck. Inhaling your soap and perfume.

"What took you so long?"

He didn't answer. So you pulled him back just enough look at you. His eyes glazed and tired, bloodshot with bags sitting heavy in his skin. Ink and dirt smeared across his cheeks.

Your hand brushed his hair back. A mess of scar tissue greeting you, making your stomach lurch.

"Your ear-"

"He's dead"

You didn't need to ask who. The crack of his voice as he finally broke down told you everything you needed to know. Shaking like a leaf, his body wracked with guttural sobs as he fell back into your arms. Your parents finally rushing in at the noise. Freezing as they took in the scene before them. You on the floor and a broken man in your arms.

"I can't...I keep breaking mirrors because all I can see is his face looking back at me"

You glanced down at his hands, balled up in your shirt. His knuckles were bleeding. You looked over your shoulder, and your mother nodded. Whispering to your dad as she rushed off the grab the first aid kit. Your dad shuffling to the bathroom to fill the tub.

"I can't do this without him. I don't...I don't want to do this without him"

Your mother returned with the kit. Placing it by your side as you just held him closer. Stroking his hair and rocking him softly. Tears streaming from your eyes.

Between you and your dad, you managed to get him stripped and sat in the bath. Warm soapy water washing away blood and dirt. Sat on the lip as you cupped water in your hands and washed his hair until you could see the vibrant orange once more. Pushing it away from his forehead and letting him lean his head back against your chest. Soaking your shirt through as your fingers dug into the tense muscles of his shoulders. Bleeding knuckles cleaned of dirt and debris, ready to be dressed when he was dry.

"It's like I've lost a part of my soul"

His eyes were closed. Your fingers turning his head, tilting it to the side, thumbs smoothing down his neck. Knots unravelling slowly but surely.

"I don't want to go into the shop and have him looking back at me from every angle. His notes are still on his desk. His tea cup is still half full next to his bed. It's growing mould. But I can't...I can't bring myself to throw it away"

You didn't say anything.

Because you didn't know what to say.

You had never imagined a world without the two of them, together. Practically joined at the hip. It was always Fred and George. A set you could not separate. And yet someone had.

And it was wrong.

So wrong the world had suddenly tipped on its axis. Fundamentally changed for all eternity with a lost half soul wandering its surface.

You called your dad back in. Pulling him from the cloudy water and patting him dry. Dressed in your dads pyjamas and knuckles bandaged. Curled around your orang-utan and damp hair resting on your pillow. Your hand lazily trailing up and down his arm until his eyes started dropping.

"Did you want me to come back with you?"

He nodded. Reaching out to pull you closer. Orang-utan wedged between your bodies.

"Yes, please"

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

You moved back into your apartment. And so did he. Taking a few day trips here and there to the shop to clean up what the looters had left. Repairing the windows and sweeping up broken products until it was looking bare...but better. Him up in their apartment slowly picking up broken glass and sweeping floors. Tea cup washed and put away.

You tackled the office together. Taking breaks when it all became too much. Heading home to curl up in front of the fire as he cried and cried until he had no more tears to give.

Time moved on. And he got better. Opening a few days a week with you practically running the place. Customers few and far between but all happy to have a place back that reminded them of better time. That made them smile and laugh after all they had seen.

That seemed to pick him back up.

That joy.

Finding him in the office after closing with Fred's notes in his hand. Just staring down at them until you cleared your throat and let him know you were heading home. The invitation for him to join you unspoken. But that night he didn't join you. He stayed in the apartment above the shop that was filled with his brothers' things. And he was ok.

For the first time in almost a year, he was...ok.

He experimented more. Running up to you with a gleam in his eye you hadn't seen for years with a half cocked idea in his hands. Frowning when it would blow up in both your faces and promising to get it next time.

He slept more. Getting to the shop later and later as you left cups of tea and treacle tarts on his doorstep. The bags clearing from his eyes and his skin no longer sickly pale and paper thin.

He cut his hair.

And then reverted back to square one after catching his refection in the window.

As Christmas rolled around, he was getting back on track. The shop decorated and windows left longer between cleans. More and more customers showing up by the day. More products moving and more money being made. Almost breaking even for the first time since before the war. Rent actually paid on time and hot water turned back on. You had to wait almost an hour for him to come down one morning as he stood in the shower long enough to prune his fingertips.

But it was better.

He was better.

And so were you.

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

"I know you have Christmas plans, but would you like to do something together? Before you leave?"

He was helping you stack boxes in the store room. The new shipment arriving just minutes before closing. You sliding them in by hand and him joining you, finding it nice to do something with his hands instead of his wand for a bit.

"What did you have in mind?"

He shrugged, wrinkling his nose as he bent down and got more boxes. Back cracking in a way that made you snort softly.

"Dinner at my place? Say...six o'clock?"

That sounded nice, actually. You hadn't really had much time together just being...you. Not boss and employee. Not grieving brother and worried carree. Just you.

Friends.

Or whatever this had become.

You didn't know anymore. Because he had slept in your bed almost every night for a year. He had a toothbrush on your sink and a favourite tea cup in your cupboards. A draw filled with spare underwear, socks, pants, and shirts in his size living in your dresser.

You had started dating without dating.

Or kissing, for that matter.

So many steps skipped in the grief that overpowered you both into just needing each other.

And maybe, just maybe, Christmas dinner was the time to find out what this really was. What if felt like to just be you again.

So you nodded. Smiling as you stacked your last box, catching his hand hidden behind his back, waving his wand as the last box of stock floated into their spots.

"As long as you cook"

He smirked. That glint almost back in full force behind his eyes.

"Bring a bottle of wine and I just might"

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

He actually made an effort. Doilies on the table, candles lit, and a full course meal ready to serve. Stacking your plate with roast potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, and lashings of gravy. The roast beef already carved and stacked neatly next to your peas and candied carrots. Wine airating as he pulled off his comically frilly apron and sat across from you, clinking glasses and digging in.

Comfortable silence filling the air as your stomach filled to the brim.

"This is actually really good"

You shoved another forkful of potatoes between your lips, washing it down with your last mouthful of wine.

"I can cook, you know"

He refilled your glass. But only half way.

"I know....just not normally without burning something beyond recognition"

He leaned back in his chair, glass in hand and wine swirling like some scollar about to deliver a lecture.

"Cooking is like potions. You just gotta get the recipe right"

You laughed. Free and open. You hadn't heard yourself laugh like that in years. And neither had he. Putting his wine down and pushing his plate away, mostly empty except for half a pudding and two carrots.

"You're beautiful when you laugh. I don't make you do it enough. Jokes are...were Fred's specially"

The air felt thick. Poking at your peas as you suddenly felt like a school girl again. Getting a compliment from your crush in the courtyard.

But you weren't thirteen anymore. And you caught the correction in that sentence. Watching how his hand trembled slightly before dropping to his thigh. Gripping at the fabric of his trousers to still it.

"You know, I promised him something. Before the war. And while I could get him on a technically, I think... I think it would be best to fulfil it anyway. Just in case his ghost is breathing down my neck"

He chuckled awkwardly.

You pushed your plate aside.

"What kind of promise?"

He sucked in a deep breath through his nose, and let it out through his mouth. Eyes glacing at his wine glass, trying to decide if he needed more liquid courage before saying what he needed to say.

But he didn't.

He could do this.

Because he promised Fred he would.

"I promised...if we made it out alive, I'd finally ask you out"

You blinked. Mind wiring and heart pounding.

"Finaly?"

He nodded. Deciding he did need that last burst of liquid courage after all, and chugging the rest of his glass in one swallow.

"I've been wanting to since third year. But I was too shy, and then too busy with quiddich and then Cedric...I kept making excuses. Because I was scared. I was scared you'd turn me down, and I'd lose all this. Or maybe I was just scared of being happy. It's all so obvious when I look back on it. So clear"

He looked up at you. Eyes soft and hazel flecked. Like they used to be.

"You wouldn't have said no, would you?"

You were still processing how long he had liked you back. How long you had both been doing this dance without the other knowing that no one was leading. The daisy chains, the study dates. Wand corrections and soft smiles. All of it. For years now.

"Maybe in third year. I almost had a heart attack giving you those pastries"

He huffed out a laugh. Head tilting, soft smile slowly filling his face. A smile you had missed so much.

"I never got to have one. Fred ate for the two of us"

It was said with fondness. Powdered sugar cheeks and cream covered noses flashing into your minds eye. The first time you had ever spoken. And then moving day memories followed it. The brushed hair, the good jeans, shoes shined. The light dimming from his eyes when he realised you weren't alone.

"Is that why you came over with flowers?"

"Fred bullied me. He was sick of all the pining. Said I looked like a love sick puppy, and it was ruining his reputation with the ladies"

He rolled his eyes as you finished your own wine. Empty glasses and almost empty plates not spared a single glance as you locked eyes. Suddenly both too afraid to pull away in case the moment was broken and you went back to...whatever it was you were.

"If my parents weren't there, would you have-"

"No"

The answer was curt. Short and truthful. It made your skin prickle.

"The war was too close. And you were already in so much danger"

You leaned forwards in your chair, hovering just above it.

"The wars over now"

He did the same. Eyes darting down to your lips once more.

"I know"

The air was thick again. And warm. So warm it made your collar itch and your cheeks burn.

"So should I call my parents or-"

His hands cupped your jaw. Pulling you the last few inches towards him as he leaned into the gravy boat. Tie soaked in it as you grabbed the front of his shirt for balance. The table digging into your stomachs. His lips soft against yours. His stubble scraping your chin as you moved together seamlessly. Like this was where you were always meant to be.

He pulled a hand away, grasping for his wand and flicking it to slide the table from out between you, pulling you into his chest. A hand around your waist and the other tangled in your hair, tilting your head just right. Tongue lapping at the seams of your lips until you let him in with a whimper.

Tasting wine and potato's and gravy. Almost wishing he had waited for dessert so he could have licked the treacle from your morals.

But then his hand slid beneath your jumper, and sunk into your warm skin.

And the treacle was forgotten.

"George, slow down"

You pulled back for a breath and he pulled your right back in. Messy and short and trailing down your neck.

"Can't. I can't slow down. Ever since that day Fred blew our kitchen date, this has been stuck in my head. Plaguing my dreams. How soft you'd feel, how good you'd taste. I can't believe it only took a war for me to grow some balls and get here"

You let out a half shriek as he picked you up. Hands under your thighs as your ankels locked around his waist. Gripping at his shoulders as he pulled you back into a fervierish kiss. Walking you the short distance to his bedroom and lowering you onto the bed. Hand cupping your head to make sure you didn't smack it on the headboard.

His teeth were back on your neck. Scraping against sensitive skin as your back arched and eyes fluttered. Desparate to stay open as you threaded your fingers through silky locks.

Not too short.

You moaned, embarrassed by the sound as you threw your head back, letting it loll to the side and spoting them on his bedside table. A little row of sliver.

"Fred gave them to me that night. I almost shat myself when your dad locked eyes with me"

He didn't even look up, the tensing of your body telling him all he needed to know.

"He was very optimistic"

You gasped out. Jumper lifted over your ribs. His lips finding your navel and working up from there. Tugging at his own tie and throwing it away. Undoing his top button without his lips ever leaving your skin.

"I had to channel his spirit to put them out tonight. I don't even think we'll use them. I just...I want to touch you, not fuck you. Not yet"

Your head was spinning. His pillow smelt like his shampoo and his mouth was so warm. His hands kept wandering, pulling at the button of your pants and sneaking under the hem.

He stilled when you remained silent. Looking up at you through his lashes. Thumb soothing the heaving of your chest.

"Is that ok?"

You took a second to catch your breath. Staring up at the ceiling because he looked too good down there with his kiss swollen lips and wandering hands for you to think. To look at your boundaries and see if you felt like you could go further. Let him play you more. Jumping into everything so quickly and yet feeling like it had been this way forever. Like having his hands and lips on your body was second nature.

Like they belonged there.

So you tugged his hair and looked back down at him. Smiling and waiting and as patience as ever.

"Anything you want. I'm at your mercy"

He didn't wait for you to change your mind. Words barely leaving your lips before he was sitting up. Unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it free. Trousers shimmed off and socks kicked away. Lifting you to do the same. Working on your pants while you pulled your jumper away. Joining his clothes on the floor.

Both just looking at each other in your underwear before he pounced once more. Fingers fumbling with your bra, pulling it away and cupping a breast in his hand. Massaging it softly as he mouthed at your neck until you gave in and fell back down onto the matress.

His lips finding a hardening nipple as his fingers trailed down your stomach, slipping into your underwear and between your folds to find you soaking wet. Circling your clit with gathered slick. Making you see stars as your nails dug into his shoulders

"Oh godrick-"

"Good?"

You groaned. One of his fingers slowly slipping inside. Cursing under his breath at how tightly you held onto him.

"You know it is, don't get cocky"

He smirked, flicking your nipple with his tongue. Blowing chilled air onto the now spit soaked nub.

"Brat"

He pulled his finger free, back to focusing on your clit just to hear the whimpers he pulled from you.

"Sorry just...never done this before. Feels-feels so intense"

His hand stilled. Breast falling from his mouth.

"You haven't?"

He was pulling away. Everything suddenly holding this new meaning that wasn't there before. A pressure and guilt weighing his shoulders down.

You gripped his wrist and held it fast.

"George, you just took my first kiss. I didn't get around much"

He blinked.

Your first kiss.

He had taken your first kiss with wine in his blood and feverish lust in his brain. Rosemary and thyme filling the air and bellies full of far too many vegetables.

"Fred was very optimistic, indeed"

You nodded. Agreeing as your hips bucked, needing him to keep touching you. To just forget about all the hype and pretend meaning behind firsts, just for a moment. And to remember he was here, he was with you, with your consent and your longing.

And that was all he needed.

He slid his fingers back down. Two now curling inside you, finding a spot you didn't know you had and rubbing against it. Palm flat on your clit and mouth working your breasts.

Your body felt like it was on fire. Bucking and squirming. Unsure if it wanted more or if what it was getting was already too much. Pressure building, skin prickling. Sobbing into his pillow as you fucked down to meet his every thrust.

"I can't-going to....George"

He hushed you. Lips whispering soothing noises into your skin. Moving to sit up and watch you. See you. A kiss pressed against your cheek.

"It's ok. Let go. Want to see you"

And you did. With a sobbing scream and arched back. Riding the wave and clenching around his fingers as he kept thrusting and rubbing, drawing it out until you couldn't take it anymore. Hiccuping into the pillow and batting weakly at his hand.

Withdrawing and dripping wet. Sliping his fingers between his lips. Sighing at the taste and kissing your sternum as you caught your breath.

His soft cock pressing against your thigh.

"Do you...you havent-"

"It's ok"

He pulled the sheets up over you. Body shaking and shivering as the endorphin rush wore off. Leaning over the bed and finding where his wand had rolled to. Summoning a towel and cleaning you with a mix of muggle methods and magic.

Seeing your face twitch with guilt as he remained untouched.

"He hasn't really been on his game since...I'm ok. I'm happy, really happy. I promsie. You fell apart so beautifully. Almost as beautiful as when you laugh"

He brushed your hair back, stuck to the sweat beading on your forehead.

"If I make you laugh during sex...I think I might just break into pieces"

You huffed out a weak noise. Letting him curl you into his side like so many nights before. But now with the air smelling like sex and sweat, your bare skin pressed together. Exhausted and content. Years and years of almosts actualising in just a few short hours.

You reached down, playing with the elastic of his underwear.

"Will you let me try next time? Even if he doesn't want to participate?"

He nodded. Bringing your hand back up, fingers laced together and knuckles kissed one by one.