[ARCHIVED]

"James," you murmured, edging into his space where he was standing at the bar. Mary said he’d be here and, hallelujah, there he stood.

He rolled his eyes, glancing from his friends and then down to you. "What do you want, shortcake?"

You held back a scowl, determined to be as nice to him as possible. You were hardly short. Much. At all. He was just tall. And he knew you hated the nickname either way.

"I need a favour."

His eyes softened just a smidge at your tone.

"Anything you want," he said.

You looked out of the corner of your eye at Sirius who was listening intently and Remus who was pretending not to be.

"Can I ask you in private? Sorry."

Remus cleared his throat. "Is something the matter?"

"No, it's nothing. Just a secret," you said, attempting to smile at him beguilingly.

James sent the boys a blinding what can you do smile and threw his arm over your shoulder, steering you both from the prying eyes of the local and out into the biting early spring cold.

"What's your issue?" You pulled out from under his hold to wrap your arms around yourself. "C'mon, you're making me nervous. You killed someone?"

"What? James, no!"

"You're pregnant." You laughed weakly. His face went white. "You're not!"

"I'm not!" you rushed to say. "No. Sorry."

"’Sorry sorry sorry‘. Don’t be. You didn't kill someone and you're not pregnant — I can fix whatever this is."

"My hero Jamie, always trying to fix things," you sang, trying your best to cheer up. "It's not so terrible, I'm only shy 'cos I'm afraid to ask you, not cause it's the end of the world.”

"Rip off the plaster and ask, then. I’ll say yes,” he said, patient where he leaned against the pub's brickwork.

"I know. I think that's why I'm afraid to ask." He raised his eyebrows. You looked at his hands and asked. "Will you pretend to be my boyfriend?"

His easy smile slowly faded.

"What?"

"For Alice's wedding. Please? Just for the wedding."

"I'll be your date, whatever you want."

"No… I- I'm just…" you covered your mouth with the back of your hand before closing your eyes, clenching your fist and pushing it out awkwardly. "Georgia Finningley said I'm not the kind of girl who gets a boyfriend. That she couldn't see me with someone. And I know she didn't mean it to be mean, and it wasn't mean, and I know I'm being silly, but-"

"When did she say that to you?"

"Last week, after Lily's."

"She said that to you in front of the other girls?" he asked, eyebrows scrunched together.

"No. We were- we were out on the mezzanine."

"Smoking?"

You warmed. "That's not the point."

"You're right, it's not. I'll come back to the smoking after." He stepped closer to your side, not touching but close. "She said it to be mean."

"I know," you admitted.

"I know you know."

You stood in silence, two blades of grass in the wind. His hair was ruffled by the breeze, skin warm in the dreary landscape. He was always the warmest thing in sight, even in summer.

"I'll be your boyfriend."

"Thank you.”

"But, and you know this about me already, I won't do anything by halves. Alright?"

"Right."

"We need at least a few public sightings before the wedding so people will believe it. And I'll have to lie to the boys. You'll have to lie to the girls."

"And then…"

"We’ll slowly fade off after the wedding and Finningley won't be any the wiser. We can say you broke up with me for being too handsome."

"Too irritating, more like."

"That too. If they're gonna believe us in love by Longbottom's wedding we're gonna have to put on a good show," he said excitedly, "you may be so lucky as to kiss me, you realise? We're gonna be so in love it makes other people sick."

"Thank you, James." You meant it. You knew he was offended on your behalf by what Georgia had said.

"I'm not doing it for you! Well, I am. But also 'cos I can't stand uppity wankers like Georgia fucking Finningley thinking they're judge and jury."

You fizzled. He opened his palm out in front of you and beckoned for you to take it. "We fancy each other starting now. Okay?" He was grinning too deviously for your liking.

You felt a little nauseous as you agreed, even worse when you followed him back inside the bar and found his friends sitting in a booth awaiting his return. He pulled you by the hand into the seat beside him and then dropped it like nothing had happened.

"We totally saw that," Sirius said, shocked.

Remus looked similarly surprised.

"Saw what?" James asked, taking an appreciative sip of his pint.

"You were holding hands!"

James raised his eyebrows, slipping his hand behind your back casually. "Are we five?"

Remus was at a loss for words. Sirius was enraged.

"What's happening?" Remus asked.

"What are you doing?" Sirius asked in turn.

You could feel yourself begin to sweat. James pressed his hand tight to the small of your back when he noticed your nerves before patting you firmly and pulling away.

"Nothing," he said. "She's tired."

"You're being all touchy."

"I'm always touchy."

"While I agree you're very sensitive, I think we're talking more about your sudden tactileness,” Remus cut in.

James snorted, peaking at you out the corner of his eye in a show of nervousness. "Don't know what you mean!"

"Mate, you just looked at her."

"Y/N," Sirius appealed to you, "he's not acting out of character?"

You shrugged and chuckled nervously. It wasn't fake.

"Are you two…?"

James said nothing. You, having been counting on him, also said nothing, which said enough for both Sirius and Remus to look blindsided.

"Since when?" Sirius demanded.

James smirked into his drink.

"Right, and your favour?" Remus asked smugly, zeroing in on your windblown appearance. "Little old to be tumbling in alleyways, aren't we?"

"We didn't-"

"Never too old for some fun," James said cheerily, then turned to you. "You want a drink, shortcake?"

"Yes," you said. You thought you'd probably need it.

-

You were standing outside Sirius Black's flat, nervous. Tonight was your official unveiling as a couple with James and most of your friends were going to be there among whatever company Sirius had deigned to invite. You'd worried yourself silly over the fact that James was probably going to get handsy because you desired it and knew you shouldn't, not knowing how to act in love enough to fool everyone and not in love enough to fool James.

The door cracked open, Sirius with a cigarette in hand.

"Oh, you creature. What're you loitering on my mat for?"

You crept back, eyes crinkling. "I was just about to knock."

"Sure you were. Cig?"

"Yes, please."

You accepted the cigarette and let your weight fall on his doorway, let him light it for you. You took a careful first drag and smiled as your throat burned.

"Don't tell James."

"I won't tell your boyfriend, but he'll know."

"How?" you asked, pushing off the doorway to flick ash over his railing. Sirius grinned manically under the stoop, overhead lights painting him stark pale.

"He'll taste it."

Noise from the party drifted out the door. "Big crowd tonight."

"Nah, they're all alright. Long as someone keeps Marl off the peach snapps it'll be a quiet one."

His definition of a quiet one was different to everyone else's, evidently, as things were getting quite rowdy inside after you'd finished your indulgent cig. You vaguely recalled most people's names and found yourself familiarly tucked into the group of girls, Lily and Mary having acquired a tray of jello shots.

"And where've you got all these?" you asked Mary.

She shook her head and tapped the side of her nose. "Secret."

"C'mon, I hate secrets."

"Don't we all!" Marlene said to you. "Ironic considering a little birdie told me something interesting about you this morning."

"Yeah?"

"Very, very interesting," she said, nodding.

"If it's the same thing I heard then I'm very mad at you," Lily said. You froze up and she laughed. "For not telling us!"

The girls had all leaned in for your confession.

"It just happened. I don't know when. Suddenly, we're together."

You smiled like you couldn't help it, picking at your nails. Your group of friends giggled and cheered, Mary forcing a shot into your hand. "This is a cause for celebration," she declared, similarly appointing each girl with their own jelly. Emmeline stared down at hers apprehensively. "Do it for Y/N," Mary said pointedly.

Emma took her shot and groaned. "Congratulations," she said hoarsely. "I'm not doing another one."

The rest of you took your own shots.

"I really hadn't expected it. You've been firmly in James Potter's friend zone since third year,” Dorcas began.

"I asked him out one time!"

"And he was still of the idea Lily would change her mind back then," Mary said, nodding sagely.

Lily frowned a little. "You say that like he's settling. Don't be cruel." Mary laughed, pinching Lily's arm until she was giggling and crawling away.

"That's not what I meant at all! Just that he fancied you at the time. I wouldn't call it settling, anyhow. That's like saying a poor man settles for caviar," Mary said.

"Am I the poor man or the caviar?" James asked, voice very close. You twisted to find he'd stationed himself behind you without being heard, movements covered by the general hubbub of the room. "I best be the caviar, or I'm going to be very upset." He said this as he pushed his hand across your shoulder until his palm was cupping your neck. He leaned down and kissed you quickly on the mouth, a chaste peck. "Hello, sweetheart."

You said hello back, word so quiet it got lost on the way from your mouth. He smiled at you very sweetly and then turned his attention to the ladies. "Evening, girls."

"Yeah, hi, loverboy," Lily said, squinting at him.

"Evans, always so cold. Mary, you look ravishing! Orange is your colour." It really was. Mary pressed a hand to her chest in mock swooning, leaning back so her braids pressed into Lily's shoulder.

"Potter, keep the flirting for your missus."

"Right you are, Marl." James turned his eyes to you. You imagined his expression wavering, the mark of adoration in his eyes. "You look lovely," he said, uncharacteristically quiet, and then, "good enough to eat. Mind if I try?"

"You admit, I'm the caviar?"

He grinned. "No, I don't."

"Don't like that," Dorcas complained.

"Yeah, I don't remember signing up for the tooth-rotting stuff," Lily agreed.

"Tooth-rotting! I was thinking sickening," Sirius said, grabbing James' shoulder in a manly clasp.

"Don't get too jealous, I've saved some for you." James maneuvered into Sirius' space until he was close enough to kiss him. Sirius called his bluff and stayed very still until James backed off. "You're no fun, Black."

"Don't want to catch whatever it is you've got. No offense," he said, nodding to you.

James remembered himself and smiled at you easily. "Whatever it is," he said warmly, "she's got it bad."

Half the girls cried out in disgust while the others cooed. Sirius rolled his eyes and muttered something about finding someone less insufferable to drink with.

"Didn't want to drink with that plonker anyways," James said, his hand finding a home at the nape of your neck, squeezing with his fingertips. You were puzzled at his behaviour and shuddered, pulling away to analyse his expression. He wasn't looking at you, instead his eyes were on the TV. "I hate this song."

"You hate this song?" you asked.

"What, s'hard to believe?"

"What kind of music do you like, James, besides top of the pops?"

"Stuff too mature for ears like yours, baby, don't worry yourself with it."

You huffed. "Prick."

"And proud. Want a drink?"

You could feel the warmth of the jelly shot still, and banked on getting in another. The best part about drinking was the taste becoming easier to manage the more you drank. "I want something fruity, please."

"Your wish is my command, sweet thing."

“You know what else my little birdie told me?” Marlene asked as soon as he’d gone.

“Your little birdie being Sirius Black, of course?”

“Quite right.”

“Go about it, then,” Emma prompted.

“You’ve been shagging Pots in alleyways and pub bathrooms.”

That had actually been the fun part of your deception. James had taken Remus and Sirius’ smoke break as an opportunity to plan ahead. “Right, when they come back, I’m going to look at you all subtle - as in, not subtle at all - and go to the bathroom and you can bat your dainty lashes at them both and make some excuse about needing some air, and then we’re going to fuck in the bathroom.”

You’d looked at him in total shock.

He’d lasted a further five seconds before breaking. “I’m messing with you, darling girl,” he pulled a pack of exploding snap cards from his pocket, “we’ll shoot the breeze for half an hour.”

“Half hour? They’ll definitely know we’re lying,” you’d said, laughing at your own joke as he’d pouted at you.

“Only a bit,” you admitted, ears warming. Marlene tilted her head back.

“I wouldn’t have thought it of you,” Dorcas said.

“Thought what?” you asked.

“Well. That you’d fancy James, and that you’d fancy him enough to shag in the leaky cauldron. Sirius is right, you might actually have something,” she joked, grinning. “Just saying - must be a pretty good fuck to risk dragon pox.”

“Sanitation spells are quick and easy,” James said pointedly, pressing a cold can of cider into your hands, sitting on the arm of the chair you were in with a flourish of his smart jacket. He pulled your shoulder against his thigh, hand on your other side. “But you’re right, Dor. I’m a good fuck. The missus will attest.”

"The missus doesn’t kiss and tell,” you muttered, flushing. You opened your can of cider and took a drink to avoid meeting the eyes of your teasing friends.

The night drifted on. James played a diligent boyfriend and stuck by your side even when the boys left to play cocktail waitress in the kitchen. This was, perhaps, his best move. Each of your friends seemed shocked and (to your pleasure) a little awed at his watchdog position. He only left to get more drinks and was back quicker than he had to, always returning to press you into his leg, hand firm on your shoulder. As the night progressed his hand rose, drifting slowly like the tide – up and down and up again.

His fingers in your hair had you biting back a shiver. You looked out of the corner of your eye to find his arm, muscled from the quidditch season, straining against his smart button down shirt. From under your lashes you could see he wasn't looking at you, his eyes somewhere across the room, distracted by boyish laughter.

You pushed into his side as a show of affection and whispered, "You don't have to stay here all night."

You heard the conversation around you hiccup. Your friends were listening and pretending not to be. He leaned down to talk closer to your ear.

"The point in being your boyfriend is spending time with you."

"It's been an hour. Go – stretch your legs, embarrass Remus."

He weighed his options and then dotted a kiss on your temple. "Alright, pretty girl. I'll be back," he said.

You brought your hand to your temple as he walked away, dusting the pads of your fingers across his kiss.

“That’s awful,” Dorcas said.

You winced. “It is?”

“I mean — you can tell how much he likes you,” she corrected.

“Too much,” Marlene agreed.

“Have you ever known James Potter to shy away from a party?”

“Maybe he really likes you guys,” you deflected.

“He really likes you.”

Someone said something else. The conversation span. Somebody spoke about their latest fling, Marlene made enough jokes to put Sirius to shame. You ran your thumb across the embossed cider can, thinking.

“Well,” said one of the girls. “I just didn’t expect it from you.”

There was a small silence in which you didn’t realise she was talking to you.

“What?” you asked with a sheepish smile.

“A boyfriend.”

You bit your lip hard enough to taste blood.

“That’s funny,” you said, clearing your throat. “Someone said the same thing to me the other day.”

“I can see it clear as day. Maybe not James,” Lily said decidedly, “but definitely someone.”

“Our flower,” Mary said, brushing your shoe with hers.

“I just - excuse me, would you guys? Too many drinks,” you said, pushing onto your wobbly feet. It was half a lie.

You closed yourself in Sirius’ small bathroom and sighed. Considering he was a boy, he kept the space clean. You put the toilet seat down to sit and felt a sudden rush of embarrassed tears. Were you truly so off putting? You were old enough and smart enough to know by now that when people said they couldn’t see you in a relationship, it meant there was something undesirable about you. Were you ugly? Stupid?

You’d never been jaw dropping like Marl or top of the class like Lily, but you weren’t bad. You were pretty, you told yourself, staring into the large mirror set on the wall in front of the bathroom sink. You looked nice tonight. Your hair was perfect and you were dressed in something new and flashy. Maybe they didn’t mean it in a bad way. It still hurt.

You watched a tear trace the soft hill of your cheek and run down to the curve of your chin, sniffling weakly. It was the kind of hurt that made you feel pathetic, made your heart hurt.

“Shortcake?” You flinched at his gentle voice on the other side of the door. “Are you in there?”

“Yeah,” you said, too loudly.

“Can I come in?”

You flicked the lock. James let himself in and was quick to lock the door behind him.

“I hope you’ve brought your a-game tonight, these cards are burning a hole in my pocket. Literally. Hey, are you alright?”

You swiped the heel of your hand across your face quickly. “I’m fine, James.”

“You don’t look fine,” he said. His hands hovered, like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

“Too much cider. It’s nothing.”

He nodded like he’d suddenly understood what you were saying. “Quite right. A lady such as yourself can’t be expected to keep down two cans of cider and a jelly shot. I’m surprised you’re still standing.”

“I’m sitting.”

“Semantics.”

You giggled. He looked at you as though he were watching something terrible - an avalanche of powder white snow, a great wall of saltwater coming to flatten everything in its path. Morbid trepidation.

“What?” you asked him.

“Don’t cry, you look so pretty tonight. Please.”

You rolled your eyes and turned away to face the shower, watching the still damp curtain drip run-off down the drain. The words sent fizzing straight through your sternum.

“Has someone said something?”

“Were you expecting them to?”

“No, of course not. Just…” he leaned his weight against the sink basin. “I’m your fake boyfriend but I’m your real friend. I know what it takes for something to upset you.”

“Can people see something I can’t, James?” you asked quietly, pinching the material of your shirt distractedly.

“I’m betting I see a lot more than you do.”

“Is it bad?”

“Are you joking?” He laughed, awkward but earnest.

“No, I’m not joking.” He didn’t know what to say and neither did you. You sniffed very quickly and patted under your eyes carefully. “Doesn’t matter. What did you say about cards?”

James grinned, pulling the offending items from his trouser pocket.

“I’m gonna wipe the floor with you, doll.”

-

“Though I’m suspicious of how you found out where she works, I’m more curious about your plan.”

“My plan?” James asked, a pair of sunglasses on, his own glasses in hand. The label hung off and rested on his sun-warmed cheek.

“How you plan on explaining to Finningley why you, a fan of all sport wizard, are doing in a muggle JD’s.” You paused as he slid a pair of matching sunglasses over your nose.

He grinned brilliantly, the sunglasses doing nothing to dull his exuberant shine.

“Not I, shortcake, we. What are we doing here?”

“That’s more suspicious.”

He led you down an aisle of trainers, boxes piled so high you couldn’t see the tops without craning your neck. “We don’t need to talk to her. Truth be told, I’d rather not. She just needs to see us together.”

“She saw us at Sirius’.”

James poked at a pair of shoes with mild interest.

He looked awful today. Well-dressed, brown skin kissed by the sun over and over. His dark, thick hair was a devilish mess as usual, curls falling this way and that. The sunglasses hid away his melting brown eyes, resting on his handsome hawk-shaped nose. He was clean shaven and smelling of his usual cologne, which in itself was enough to haunt your dreams. Sandalwood unfurling into a deeply woody smell, like a pure, burning flame. You held back the want to press your face into his neckline, to stand in his arms and soak up all his sunshine heat.

Perhaps awful was the wrong word. Either way, it was awful for you.

You turned from him, eyes searching for Finningley.

“In the market for anything?” James asked.

You turned around to find him holding a small football, meant for kids. He sorted through neon coloured footballs and then moved on to expensive branded socks, to rugby jerseys, to windbreakers. The whole shop smelled of sports equipment, slightly plastic. He came across a shockingly ugly pair of football studs, bright orange and fluorescent yellow, raising his eyebrows. “I’d do well in playoffs wearing these. Very distracting.”

“They’d laugh you off the pitch.”

“An unkind sort, quidditch players,” he agreed.

“You’re a quidditch player.”

“And I’m horrid.”

“I concur.”

James grinned something wretched. “You like ‘em mean?”

You were much too fragile to play this game with him. You imagined a version of you that said yes, that goaded him, that kissed him to kiss him and not to convince others you were kissable. That version of you, that brave version, would step on the toes of his shoes and put your hand on his lean chest and say all the right things, set your mouth on his mouth and kiss him like you meant it.

This version of you faltered noticeably.

James frowned and set down the ugly shoes.

He looked like he might say something heartfelt or at least something probing. Conveniently, your reason for being there appeared. You threw open the curtains on your stage play, idling into James’ space like you loved him. You smiled coyly and looked up at him from under your lashes.

“You tell me,” you said, hoping she could hear.

James looked startled. You pressed your hand to his neck. He covered it with his own.

You eased the sunglasses from his face and tucked them into his shirt, leaning up on your tip-toes to speak in his ear. He stilled.

“She’s behind you,” you whispered.

“She’s - oh. Oh.” The undertone of his lovely smile turned from earnest to guarded but he gave it as good as he got it, pushing your sunglasses up into your hair. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he said under his breath.

You braced yourself for his mouth, a polite peck, eyes drifting closed as he came close. Then, a passion — a roughness. James was kissing you hard enough to feel your lips press against your teeth. You froze. He pulled back, nipped your lip, said, “Play along.”

You were trying, only it was difficult to suddenly be kissed so deeply by someone. It was a wish fulfilment at best and a ruination at worst. James Potter was really, truly snogging you, and you wanted it bad. He tasted of spearmint.

He pulled away. You couldn’t help it, you chased him. He appeased you with a last peck and a laugh you’d never heard before and said, “Don’t overdo it, shortcake. We’re still classy.”

You nodded, taking your tingling bottom lip between your teeth. The cheesy novels always got that part right: fireworks. He readjusted your sunglasses back over your eyes and put his own back on and you both refused to turn your head’s in Georgia’s direction. When you looked out of the corner of your eye she was looking at you both with a broom loosely on her hand. When it hit the ground James laughed and covered his mouth. You both stood there desperately constraining contagious giggling.

-

Your final appearance as a couple began on the morning of Alice soon-to-be Longbottom’s wedding. The dress code was simple — as decadent as you please but don’t get cheesy with it. The bridesmaids wore gorgeous bronze silk slip dresses with bouquets of red roses, the groomsmen each with a rose tucked into their pockets.

You’d thought that a black dress might steer people’s attention from you completely and had bought the first one you found that flattered, ending mid-thigh. The fabric at your breasts was stiff, almost an invisible corset, and the straps were settled over each armpit.

The wedding was held on the Longbottom’s four acre property, green green grass topped by long, hand-carved wooden benches set on either side of a white silk aisle adorned by red petals. You and James stood at the top of it and set about making your judgements.

“It’s lovely,” you said.

He looked dreadfully handsome, the dark tendrils of his curls immaculate above his sharp eyes. He dipped down his head to you and you thought maybe he might kiss you. “It’s very dramatic,” he said.

How ironic, you thought. You look like a perfume model and you think everyone else has gone overboard.

“What’s that look?” he asked.

“What look?”

“I know you better than you think,” he said instead, staring at you. You marvelled at his ability to melt you, propping yourself up with a hand on one of the benches. Sirius was causing a palava at the registration table, the sound of Remus’ tired frustration reaching your ears. You hoped their hubbub might distract James long enough to save you, but no such luck. He waited patiently for your answer.

“I — you look very handsome today,” you admitted, feeling hot all over.

Perhaps he didn’t know you so well, as his spine straightened and his hand came up to tug against the collar of his shirt before he tucked it into his pocket with bravado. “Of course I do. I’m a handsome guy.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, embarrassingly earnest, “you are.”

He cleared his throat. The usher was trying madly to get people into their seats, begging ‘Bride or Groom?” to anyone who would listen. This was a difficult question, as most attendees where here for both. You eventually settled on the groom’s side with James, bare thigh pressed into his muscled one.

You could see the shape of his legs through his trousers and then looked away, blushing as you realised your own ogling. He didn’t notice. Well, fair do’s, you thought to yourself, he’s gotten an eyeful of my legs already.

You shivered. A small draft moved through the grounds and wafted the smell of rose water into every crevice. The cardigan you’d worn was similarly black, stopping just below your ribs and tied by two small, soft pieces of fabric at the front. You liked it because it didn’t fully cover the dress, though you were regretting it now.

A general hush had fallen over the crowd in anticipation. James pressed his knee to your knee and leaned over to talk to you without looking at you. “Are you cold?”

“A little.”

He brought both your legs into his and covered the outermost with a big hand, roving stripes over your naked flesh. “Bit frigid for an outdoor wedding,” he said, grinning, his pearly teeth peeking out through his parted lips.

You agreed weakly. You could hardly think. Your skin buzzed under his touch.

The music began. Bridesmaids and groomsmen drifted down the aisle looking bright and excessively happy. Lily, in her lovely brown slip, floated down the white silk in her strappy sandals looking like an angel, hair curled and glossy behind her. You knew you shouldn’t, knew it was ridiculous, but you looked to your left. James looked completely normal, no lovesickness, no outward yearning. His hand didn’t pause on your leg for a moment.

“Warmer?” he murmured.

You were burning.

Alice finally came down the aisle in her knee-length gown, all shiny fresh with love and elation on her face. You’d never seen such a ridiculously happy pair of lovers, laughing all through their vows and kissing passionately enough that the pews began laughing too. James’ hand tightened over your leg when the crowd cheered. He and Sirius began whooping loudly as to break your eardrums and, you figured, the sound barrier. Frank bowed to them both with a movement like a rolling bow.

People began rising from their seats to the reception tent.

“What did you think?” James asked as you stood. He remained seated. It was strange to be taller.

“About what?” you asked.

He held his hands out. You accepted hesitantly, felt the broom-wrought callouses on his otherwise soft hands slide against your palms as he spread his fingers over your pulse point, securing them around your wrists. You did the same. You didn’t look unlike  Alice and Frank had, index fingers sliding under his forearms.

He gently pulled you forward to be standing between his open legs. “About the ceremony?”

You relaxed. “I liked it.“ You hesitated to say more.

“What?” he asked conspiringly, seemingly excited by your opinion.

“I can’t say it, it’s mean.”

“Please say it,” he begged. He moved one hand so his fingers were wrapped around the fleshy hill of your thumb. “Please, shortcake, I love to gossip.”

“It’s not gossip!” you said, looking down at where his fingers held your thumb. He pulled you closer still, so close your knees touched the bench.

“It’s the flowers, right? It’s suffocating,” he murmured. You blew a relieved breath out the side of your mouth.

“A bit,” you agreed, giggling, hands tensing around his.

“Like a first year’s hair-softener.”

You laughed more and then looked over your shoulder in paranoia.

“James, shush.”

“What? It’s hardly hearsay!”

“It’s not nice. They’ve had such a perfect day so far and we’re taking the piss.” Even as you said it, you didn’t feel guilty. Your pulse was pressed to his palms, his hands drifting over your skin as you talked and laughed. Half the attendees had moved to the gazebo and yet neither of you noticed.

He’d said something terrible that had you cringing down, stomach aching. When you looked up he was giving you his beatific smile, the sun shining down on you both just right and you felt pinned by it.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said, smiling distractedly, looking down at his wrist. You curled your fingers inward and scratched the underside of his arm gently, feeling a little put out. After today, this would be over. You’d miss the stolen moments in bathrooms and hallways, would miss being allowed in his space like this — unapologetic, unflinching. James moved one hand up your arm, over your cardigan sleeve, to squeeze the crease of your arm.

“You…” he started shaking his head. “You make me so mad sometimes.”

“Mad?” you asked, worried.

“Furious.”

You didn’t know what to say. You tried to pull your arms away and he held on tight.

“You get this look on your face,” he said. He was smiling as he spoke, the strained kind, like he didn’t know how to say what he wanted to. “Like you realise you’re enjoying yourself and have to stop. Like you’re not allowed.”

You looked down at his sleeves, his cufflinks.

“Are you having a good time?” he asked you, suddenly, his voice loud in your ears.

“Yes,” you said timidly.

He let go of one arm to grip your shoulder, a comforting squeezing motion that made you sway. “Yeah?”

“I always have a good time with you, Jamie.”

He gave you a very long look. At first you didn’t recognise it on his face, it was so unlike him. No walls, no guarded secrets, a boy stripping back his bravado.

James let go of your elbow to wrap his arm around your shoulder blade, guiding you down to sit on his leg. You stopped breathing, pulse roaring in your ears whilst you tried to settle over his thigh without squirming. The hand wrapped around your wrist loosed go of your hands. They fell into your lap. His knuckles brushed against the tops of your covered thigh.

You had to wrap your arm around his neck to stop from falling backwards, chest against his chest, soft dark curls crushed under your hold. He smelled as intoxicating as always, sandalwood and something like smoke.

Live music had begun playing in the tent. Guests were clapping and cheering, laughter floating on the rose water breeze. The sun had begun to descend in the sky.

He let his hand rest on your hip, the other on your bare knee. All you could think of was his hands.

“I didn’t tell you,” he said, words like spun silver from his lips, “how beautiful you look today. Forgive me.”

Your heart rocketed. You took as subtle a steadying breath as you could manage, using the very tip of your index finger to push a misbehaved wave from his face. He waited patiently, his eyes drifting shut at your touch.

You dropped your hand. “So tell me,” you said, as bravely as you could.

His hand inched up your knee, spread wide over your thigh. “You’re beautiful.” He faced you head on.

This part was all on you, you realised. You had to be the brave one — he’d made it so it was your decision, had let you be the taller one. You had to be the one to lean down. You had to be the one to mean it.

You inched closer to him, little bit little. You’d never been brave all at once like him. Best he knew it from the start.

“James,” you said, words soft. His smile was gentle. You mirrored his expression unthinkingly. “James.”

You had no grand confession for him. You wouldn’t tell him you loved him, but the idea that you could know him, that he could know you, and that the both of you could make something pretty of it. Well, you’d be brave for it.

You moved down another inch.

“Ask me,” he murmured, your lips so close and not close enough, noses a whisper apart. “I’ll say yes.” What he’d said when you asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend. Your heart would burst through your chest any second now.

“I know,” you said, repeating your own words, a world apart. “I think that’s why I’m afraid to ask.” He exhaled through his nose in a laugh.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked. His exhale graced your lips. Nothing, you wanted to say. Everything. “I already told you, I don’t do anything by halves.”

You shivered, shifted on his leg to be taller still. “Why’s it up to me?”

His eyes darted down to your lips. He bit his own, inhaled so sharply you felt his chest move under your hand. The sun set, poured light all over him like a blessed being dripping nectar. His hand came up to touch your face and was soaked in colour. The music lulled, the laughing grew louder.

He ran the back of his hand down your cheek. “Kiss me?” he asked you.

You set your palm over his cheek and closed your eyes. You leaned in. This time, when you kissed him, nobody was watching.

-

omg first james fic kinda nervous

my masterlist

tag club :3

You're saved from any further embarrassment when you reach the next floor, almost tripping over yourself in your hurry to step off and out of his teasing hold. He follows, though he doesn't put his arms around you again, simply twining your fingers together. His hand is warm. 

"Junebug? Lovergirl? Flower?" 

"Ridiculous," you murmur, so warm you can feel a bead of sweat as it crawls down the small of your back. 

"We both know I can call you just about anything in bed, don't we?" 

"Peter!" you protest under your breath, wide eyed. 

He looks apologetic in his good humour, swinging your joined hands. "I'm messing with you." 

"I know." He looks out the corner of his eye at you. "You're always messing with me." 

"Am not!" 

You hope your judgemental gaze says, are too. 

You part to walk around a pillar and he's quick to take your hand again. It's a comforting weight. He has a thoughtful look on his face that you despise, because it never ever ends well for you. 

You drop his hand and take a left into the first storefront you see. Your mistake, as you've found yourself knee deep in delicate lingerie. 

You turn to walk out, your face already hot with embarrassment, and collide with a familiar chest. Peter grabs your shoulders kindly but firmly, twisting you around, forcing you deeper into the store. You stop when your thighs brush the display table in front of you, a dark brown wood covered in pinky purple bras and matching thongs. 

They tempt you for a mindless second, your hand drifting towards pretty lace. You pinch the soft fabric between your fingers and drop it. It's already too late. 

"You like that one, huh?" Peter asks smugly over your shoulder.

"No," you mutter. 

"No?" he asks, hands stretching over you easily, locking you in as he brings a bra up for you both to look at. "I could see you in this, honeybee." 

You squeeze your eyes shut and hope for mercy. The vibrations of his laughter rumble through your back. He puts the bra down and leans in. 

"Are you okay? I haven't taken it too far, have I?" His worried tone softens the heat of it all. 

You lean your head against his shoulder, eyes wide as you gaze up at him. "I'm okay." 

"You sure?" 

You smile, really smile. "Yeah." 

He smiles bashfully in return. "Sorry, sweetheart, I just love seeing you all flustered." 

You shake your head, long-suffering in your disapproval. 

"Can I make it up to you?" he asks. 

You know exactly what he means and consider pretending that you don't, but he's giving you those puppy dog eyes full of enough care to weaken your knees and your facade.

"Let's go home," you say, turning in his arms to thread your fingers once again. 

"Without buying anything?" he asks, disappointed. 

No, it wasn’t just because you caught his attention and that he wants to keep an eye on you while getting rid of any man or woman who wanted you for themselves.

Your clumsiness and the way your mind works kept him on his toes for the past year.

There was a time when one of their towel got stuck in the nearby tree while you were drying them. Of course, being a smart person that you are, you decided to climb the tree and retrieve the towel from one of the branches.

But that’s where your plan ended.

What you’ll be doing after retrieving the towel was never part of your plan. Precisely the reason why you got stuck on the tree trunk, while Hitoka rush towards the gym to get whoever could help you descend the tree.

None of your seniors could ever forget of what happened back then. Especially when the panic-stricken Tsukishima Kei tried to climb the tree to rescue you as of you’re just a cat who got stuck up there.

Coach Ukai tried to keep himself from hitting his forehead too hard when most of his players were panicking too much that they forgot about the ladder in the stock room.

Lucky him, Nishinoya and Tanaka were already used to your crazy antics that after seeing your snotty face while sitting on the trunk of the tree, they immediately returned to the gym to get the portable ladder from the stock room.

From that day, the team became protective of you. Forbidding you to do crazy things for them, and leaving most of the technical stuffs to you.

Tsukishima became extra protective to you though. Perhaps, one of the reasons was that you were also his classmate.

You later found out that it wasn’t the only reason.

“Promise me that you would call me if you need my help.”

You tried to free your hand from his grasp, but he didn’t even move an inch. What would you expect from a professional volleyball player who could hold a volleyball with his with ease?

“I won’t climb the shelves this time.” He scowled. “I promise. Besides, most of the stuffs that are on the top shelf were on your list.”

“You can’t trust this supermarket. Remember when they suddenly changed the location of their goods and you ended up climbing the shelves? I never thought that I’d find you on the floor, under those stack of tissue paper rolls.”

He frantically looked for you when he noticed the changes. When he noticed that most of the things on his list could be found on the lower shelves. He was calling you when he found you on the floor, giggling at what just happened to you.

“I’ll take note of that.

He sighed before gently kissing your forehead.

“Call me. Okay?”

“Okay!”

You grabbed your own trolley and set off on a journey. Luckily, most of the things you need were within your reach. As if they’ve lowered the things you need for you.

‘Biscuits... Biscuits...’ you whispered while looking for Tsukishima’s favorite biscuits. It was the only thing left for you to grab. It was usually placed on the third level of shelf (from the ground). It’s been like that for years, even during that time when you were buried under those stock of tissue paper rolls.

“Oh shit.”

You whispered, almost in horror, upon seeing the can of biscuits placed on the top most layer of the shelves, along with a promotional signage.

“20% off?”

You tried to look for a store clerk who can risk their lives for you. Although Tsukishima told you to call for him, you also wanted to do something for him.

But of course, that aisle was free from store clerk and was rarely visited by shoppers during that time.

“Here goes noth—”

“Y/N!”

“Hic!”

Tsukishima rushed towards you before looking at the biscuits that you were trying to reach. “Ha...”

“Sorry...”

“You’re lucky, you’re cute.”

He swiftly placed a kiss on the top of your head before reaching the biscuits with ease. He just extended his arm to reach for it. No tiptoeing, no grunting.

“What is it?”

“Gods are unfair sometimes.”

He chuckled before kissing your pouting lips.

Y/L/N Y/N SWORE SHE DIDN'T mean to be so 'annoying' all the time. It was in her very nature to be enthusiastic, and she showed her affection loudly as a default reaction.

But she always, always, no matter how much she pulled back, ended up annoying the one person she didn't want to.

Tsukishima Kei, though he was easily the smartest person in their whole class, was a quiet introvert with a hell of a scathing tongue when it came to it - quick to deliver insults and just as quick to shut right back up after them. He also happened to have an insanely handsome smirk, and Y/N found it unfairly attractive the way he would push his glasses up his nose with two fingers and then run a hand through his sandy hair whilst making some (probably rude comment).

And, if there was one person was the polar opposite of extroverted, energetic, Y/N, it was Tsukishima.

Somehow, they had become friends against all laws of society, but the girl often found herself noticing just how precarious their relationship was. Filled with her loud jokes and his quickly-made retorts, the things he said were often bordering on mean.

Yet, Y/N still found herself falling for her friend, but the situation was ... complicated.

She wanted desperately to confess and get it out of the way, but she was afraid of how Tsukishima would react: how he would tell her she was too loud, too annoying, to even be worthy of his attention.

His favourite words to her were 'shut up' after all.

Every time she cracked a joke, or made a teasing comment, he would do the same thing: roll his hazel eyes, push his glasses up his nose with his middle and ring fingers, and say "Shut up, Y/L/N," in the most bored tone possible.

Y/N began to wilt at the words.

Our friendship feels like it's crumbling, or poisoning me.

Still, she found herself unable to stifle her infectious bursts of energy, and feared making him grow increasingly annoyed at her until she became just another Hinata to him.

Meanwhile, Tsukishima was beating himself up on the daily for the way he was talking to Y/N. It was his very nature to be blunt, and the poor guy really had no clue on how to speak to anyone, let alone an enthusiastic, pretty girl who was constantly by his side.

Shut up, he said.

Stop talking and kiss me, maybe, he meant.

It was a stupid thought, but one brought on by spending months in her presence - months of seeing her stupid smile and hearing her stupid laugh on the daily, and hating himself for hoping for the impossible.

Tsukishima had never been one to hope.

He instead, infused all his feeling into those two short words, shut up, but they never came out with affection. He instead flashed through immediate guilt as Y/N lowered her head, not making another joke or touching him for the next few minutes.

Goddamnit.

Y/N was beginning to wonder if it was even worth liking Tsukishima at all. There was obviously no hope for requited affection, and didn't even know if they were friends anymore.

"H-hey, Tsukishima," she asked him after class, her mind having been filled with doubtful thoughts all day. "Are we still friends?"

He gave her a look that practically screamed dumbass over his thin glasses. "What makes you think we're not?"

Y/N kept her tone as light and cheerful as it normally was, but a little bit of doubt had been seeping into her voice. "I just- I don't know, sorry. Do you want me to stop talking to you all the time?"

"Well, I just-" Tsukishima gave an evident sigh, pushing his glasses up his nose and pulling back to give a more measured response. "Why do you even hang out with me? We're nothing alike."

A flash of hurt stung Y/N to the core, and she again wondered what she even saw in him. The question provoked her to the point where she lost her filter, and before she could stop herself, she was replying, "I don't know, maybe it's because you're hot."

She immediately slapped a hand over her mouth, cursing herself for always being so damn loud and talkative, not even stopping to see the look on Tsukishima's face as she sprinted from the room, her breath coming short in horrified gasps.

Oh, shit. Fuck, fuck ...

Y/N barely made it twenty steps from the classroom, the school's halls empty enough given they'd stayed ten minutes after the end of classes, before a hand latched onto her wrist and forced her to spin around. She already knew who had caught her, and turned with an embarrassed flush, but she didn't expect what came next.

Tsukishima advanced towards her a couple steps, her momentum sending her back colliding painfully with the concrete wall, and, before she had the chance to react, she was caged between his forearms, both resting beside her head as he leaned stupidly close, his back arched just enough to bring their faces level.

"Hmm?"

The sound was a little more than a hum from his lips as he inched forwards just the slightest amount, his smirk never faltering in a way that made her heart race.

"What did you say?"

Somehow, he'd performed a full one-eighty from the boy constantly hushing her, and Y/N's ridiculous extroversion was helpless against that look.

"You're hot," she repeated. "I like you."

Tsukishima gave a huff of a laugh, like he almost couldn't believe it, before narrowing the distance between them so greatly that their noses were brushing in a burning point of contact, Y/N's eyes wide, wide open.

"Hey, Y/L/N?" he smirked, the words a warm, pleasant breath upon her skin. "Shut up."

Finally, finally, their lips met, not that there'd been that much distance between them, and Y/N closed her eyes, pressing forwards to wrap her arms around Tsukishima somewhere, anywhere, just to deepen the joyous flips in her stomach as he showed feeling. For her.

Finally, finally, they separated, the tall boy leaning back and towering above her, his arms back at his sides rather than trapping her against the wall. A sudden spark of damn, I like being annoying, flashed through Y/N, and she took opportunity of the hazy, distracted satisfaction in Tsukishima's eyes to leap forwards, spinning around so that he was suddenly the one caught.

After all, their dynamic had always been just slightly tipped in her favour.

"You're cute," he replied, his cheeks practically burning with red as a little bit of shyness reclaimed him.

"Yeah, sure, that's what you've been saying," she teased, nevertheless leaning in again, on her tiptoes this time.

"Oh, shut up."

Their boss had generously rented out the whole establishment for the rest of the night. So nobody currently cared about how loud and rambunctious they were being.

With how busy and overloaded everyone was at the company, Tsukishima and his colleagues were just happy to finally have a break. And they were really going at it especially since the boss was paying for their food and drinks.

He stumbles forward when Mr. Yukimura gives him a solid hit on his back. “Look at Tsukishima go!”

The boss laughs boisterously. “We should have more drinks together!”

The thought almost made Tsukishima let out a groan but he simply nodded and made it seem as if he was considering the big boss’s suggestion. There simply was no way out of it once Mr. Yukimura had his eyes on you.

“But you’re always so busy, Yukimura-san,” he lightly chuckles. “And besides, doesn’t your wife want you to come home early?”

The people at the table who heard Tsukishima’s statement simply agreed with him.

“Yeah, boss! Whenever you go on overtime, she calls each one of us to check up on you,” his secretary chimes in.

The boss waves a hand in the air, “Don’t worry. I already told her about tonight.” He pats Tsukishima’s shoulder, “I said I was throwing one of my best employees a birthday party.”

This made Tsukishima genuinely smile. Heck, with how lightheaded he was at the moment, he even felt shy and somehow his cheeks felt hot.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he turned to face Mr. Yukimure and bowed his head in gratitude. “But thank you, I appreciate your kindness.”

He chuckles and pats his head, “Now, now, Tsukishima. I want to know… don’t you have someone waiting for you at home?”

Tsukishima grabs his glass, wondering who’d given him a refill, but he still drinks it. He feels the alcohol run down his throat and it makes him all the more dazed.

He takes a second to answer, “I’m not sure what to answer to that.”

He knows that he’s the one in the hot seat now, and some people from the other tables had joined in. Everyone was apparently curious about Tsukishima’s love life.

He hears a question thrown from the side, “Are you single?” A playful hoot follows.

Feeling everyone’s eyes on him, he shifts on his seat and touches the rim of his eyeglasses. “I don’t think I really have the time for that right now. I—“

Another voice. “But aren’t you always going out of the office on time?”

“Oh yeah, I noticed that too and he always seems to be in a hurry,” someone agrees.

Tsukishima’s growing more restless and he could only smile in silence, hoping that they stop questioning him.

“If I had a partner, I don’t think I’d be here with everyone tonight.” As he says that, his eyes briefly meet someone’s in the corner of the room.

He knows he has a habit of saying things before thinking, and most of the time, what comes out of his mouth always sounded a bit hostile than what he intended them to be. He hopes no one takes it the wrong way.

His boss chuckles, “Alright, guys! He has a point. Let’s go back to enjoying the rest of the night. Order more drinks, it’s all on me! But before that,” Mr. Yukimura stands up and raises his glass.

“Here’s a toast to Tsukishima Kei,” he tips it towards the boy. “Truly one of our hardest working employees. We’re glad to have you on our team. We wish you continuous success and happiness for another year.”

After the quick celebratory salute, everyone returned to their tables and seats and the merrymaking continued on. Despite his initial reservations, Tsukishima actually allowed himself to enjoy the company of his colleagues and had a few more drinks.

They drank, exchanged stories, and ordered a few more rounds until their boss had to leave sometime close to midnight. But even then, no one wanted to go home yet.

In the middle of listening to Kobayashi’s story of how yesterday’s client meeting ended in total disaster, Tsukishima excused himself to get some air.

Stepping out, he found an empty bench just a few steps from the izakaya. The seat felt cold and he regrets not bringing his coat with him. He throws his head back, closes his eyes, and relishes in a few minutes of silence.

The cold evening breeze manages to get him to slightly sober up. He takes a few more deep breaths and when he opens his eyes, he sees a figure hovering over him.

He instantly recognizes you.

Lifting a hand to reach your face, his fingers tickle your cheeks. Tsukishima gives you a soft smile, “Why did you go outside? It’s cold here.”

You scoff, “Says the person who just spent ten minutes outside because he had too much to drink. I swear, you can never hold your alcohol.”

You drop his coat on his lap and take a seat beside him, “Here. You’re probably freezing your butt off.”

He simply shakes his head at your remark, and slips on the coat. When he’s done, Tsukishima rests his heavy head on your shoulders and he immediately calms at your familiar, homely scent.

“I’m sorry. I know I said we’d go to that fancy restaurant tonight,” he says in a muffled voice as he links his right hand with your left. “We even had a reservation made in advance.”

You squeeze his in return, “It’s fine. We could go there anytime. Besides, I had fun, especially when they had you cornered about your love life.”

He hides his face on your neck and you hear him grumble, “Shut up.”

The moment that occurred just an hour ago flashes back to your mind. You were quietly huddled with your work friends at a corner table but the commotion that stirred in the middle of the restaurant caught your attention.

“Are you single?” You were anticipating Tsukishima’s response, knowing he would be at a complete loss as to how to answer that. You watch him as he shifts in his seat, and your lips unconsciously turn upward when you meet his gaze.

You and Tsukishima were close friends since middle school, and the both of you had always been tiptoeing the fine line between friendship and lovers that it drove everyone around you mad.

It was obvious that there was unspoken mutual attraction and though his best friend, Yamaguchi, always pointed it out, Tsukishima didn’t make a move.

It went on for years until you and Tsukishima discovered that the two of you were going to the same university. The moment you started the new chapter in your life, everything changed.

It was on your graduating year that he asked you out. You remember it clearly. The two of you were just casually working on your individual papers in your favorite coffee shop when he mentioned,

“Do you ever think… about the two of us? Like together?”

“In a relationship?”

“Yeah, would that be weird?”

You and Tsukishima exchange a knowing smile and in that moment, everything just seemed to fall perfectly in place.

“No, it wouldn’t be weird. It would feel… right.”

After graduation, it was by chance that you both got a job offer from the same company. Though you’d be in the operations department and Tsukishima in the marketing department, the two of you still agreed it’d be wise to keep your relationship a secret.

Having worked in the company for four years now, everyone still thinks of Tsukishima being a cool and dependent bachelor. Though it never really bothered you when people would make a pass at him, since at the end of the day, he always comes home to you.

Your mind is pulled to the present when you feel Tsukishima drawing circles and shapes on your palm. You lean your body closer to him, “You’re such a child.”

“But I am your child. You have no choice but to put up with me.” The words come out a bit unclear and he looks up at you doe-eyed and pouting. You figure he’s still a little drunk.

You steal a kiss and he gasps. “Happy birthday, Kei.”

Tsukishima’s quick to put his hands on both sides of your face, “That’s not fair!” He pays you back by littering kisses on your cheeks, nose, eyes, and forehead before finally pressing his chapped lips on yours.

He pulls away and touches his forehead on yours and says in the gentlest voice you’ve heard, “I love you. Thank you for being with me all these years.”

And just as a group of your coworkers exit the restaurant, Tsukishima passes out and rests his head on your shoulder.

you were struggling to balance the drinks, candies, and excessively huge tub of popcorn in your arms, intently focused on not spilling anything that you didn't notice your ex approaching you.

"all for you?" the voice caused your head to snap upwards, shocked written on your features even before you looked to see who it was. you already knew.

it took a moment for you to collect yourself, masking your surprise, and albeit a bit of fear, with a scowl. "actually, for me and my boyfriend," you spat, trying to swerve around him.

"aw c'mon. you couldn't have possibly replaced me that quickly." he took a step to block your way just as quickly, a wicked smirk on his face. "besides, i don't see anyone here."

"that's because he's getting us tickets dipshit get out of my–" you intentionally cut yourself off with a gasp that escaped your lips as he grabbed your arm, yanking you close.

"remember, no one could love you like i do, baby. you'll come running back to me soon enough when he breaks your heart."

you were struggling to wriggle out of his tightening hold, reeling away from his face much as you can. his words echoed in your mind, you tried to shake them off. you couldn't let him get to you, not again.

tsukishima's presence behind you put you out of your trance when you heard him tsk. your ex finally let you go and you stumble backwards to your boyfriend's chest. you let out a sigh of relief.

"she could have spilled those you know, she can be a bit of an idiot sometimes," he casually chimed, taking most of the snacks away from you. you frowned up at him, only to be met with a dismissive chuckle. "especially when she decided to date you as long as she did."

despite his teasing and nonchalant behavior, you didn't miss the way tsukishima stood taller than he usually did, shoulders broad, eyes narrowed, and his smirk menacing.

"are you trying to pick a fight?" your ex, fumed by tsukishima's daunts, took a step forward which only caused him to look smaller, funnily enough.

looking down on him, tsukishima muffled a 'pfft' to suppress his laugh. "you seriously do not have the facilities to try and act tough being built like that, you're not as intimidating as you think you look," he teased, pursing his lips to prevent a huge smirk forming on his lips.

"and you think you do?"

there was a moment of silence before your boyfriend bent down to his level, his voice low and cold as he said, "yes, if i wanted to. now if you excuse us we have a movie to catch."

he took your hand in his, the other one clutching your snacks and led you into the theater as your ex was left frozen in place.

"you better not let that ruin your whole mood for the day after you dragged me all the way here," he playfully remarked but when he noticed how your eyes were glued to the ground, he gave your hand a light squeeze. "i picked the best seats for us. oh and you won't make the same stupid mistake of dating idiots like that because you're stuck with me from now on," he grumbled, annoyed before kissing your cheek. yet when you finally looked up at him, he was hiding half his face over the collar of his hoodie. the bright tint of red at the tips of his ears gave him away.

suna rintaro

suna has been swamped with school work and training recently. you finally had a day to yourselves to catch up.

it was a lovely day at the park and he finally let you have an aesthetic picnic together. (he told you to lay off the tiktoks because you barely touched the frog cake you bought and all the other food, after taking a bunch of pictures).

he loved that you were so excited over it though, and thought the whole set up you prepared was cute. he also stocked on a new set of cute photos with you. definitely gonna post those on his highlights.

suna was rambling on about the latest gossip in his team, occasionally showing receipts of pictures and screenshots. you sat and listened intently, amused by your boyfriend's stories.

"oh i remember this one time when kita put the twins in time out that was hilarious," he recalled your chaotic friends from high school with a fond laugh.

he was scrolling through his loaded gallery when he noticed the sudden shift in your mood. suna caught the way your eyes skimmed behind him for a brief second, and your features instantly changed to a look of... anger? disgust? fear? he couldn't quite put a finger on it, but based on your reaction, he had a bit of an idea on what or who you saw.

your ex approached the two of you, and when he called out your name, suna's guess was confirmed even as he refused to turn around and look at him.

"ah! found it. look at this they were sat like this most of the training because–"

"can we talk in private?" your ex cut suna off, completely ignoring his existence and the way you shyed away from his gaze. you couldn't look either of them in the eye as you wanted to get out of there more than anything.

suna finally turned to look at your ex, an unimpressed look on his face. "excuse you i was talking can you not." he turned back to you, shoving his phone into your hands. you noticed how he scooched closed to and placed an arm behind you. "anyway as i was saying, tsumu was whining for hours–"

being interrupted for the second time, this time with a hand on his shoulder prying him away from you, suna glared up at your ex, heaving himself up from the ground and dusting himself off.

"i just wanted to talk to her," your ex reasoned, eyebrows raised.

"well i was talking to her first. say whatever it is you have to say right here and now and get lost." he comically faked a yawn, fanning a hand over his mouth and rolling his eyes.

your ex bitterly chuckled. "alright, whatever you say." he peaked over at where you were sat, blankly watching the scene unfold in front of you. "i was just wondering if you're the guy he cheated on me with."

your features instantly contort to that of pure shock and disbelief, mouth agape at his accusation. “excuse me you know damn well i never cheated on you, neither would i on anyone for that matter!” you exclaimed, furious.

he had a triumphant smirk as he mumbled to suna, “careful, man. she fools around with a lot of guys, based on my experience.”

you quickly jumped at your feet and stomped over to both of them, suna’s arm gently held you from getting any closer to your ex and gave you a semblance of calmness. “you mean my friends, genius? and don’t try to pin this on me you were the one cheating on me with multiple girls the whole time!” you were exasperated. to both your surprise, suna simply let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“do you usually project your own issues onto your partner? really, you were cheating the entire time and with that face?” suna began cackling uncontrollably, swaying your emotions. you held your own laughter back as he added, “man, i wish i had your confidence.”

finally letting out your own burst of laughter, you lightly slap suna’s arm while your ex stood there like a deer caught in headlights. he was utterly speechless and humiliated at your boyfriend’s taunts. being on the receiving end of suna’s insults, a cool, charismatic, attractive, and accomplished guy, was a huge blow to his ego. furious and embarrassed, the next best thing your ex thought to do (what he always did in your relationship, really) was to try and pick a fight with your boyfriend by shoving him, causing both your laughter to halt.

suna paused, when he finally looked up at him his eyes were cold and narrowed towards him. you cursed yourself for finding the way his tongue poked the inside of this cheek hot, given the situation. you anticipated his next words, the suspense he created was almost unbearable. instead, he only glanced at you and pulled you closer by the waist.

“come on, angel. let’s get out of here. the park suddenly smells a lot more like dog shit than it did earlier.” he glared at your ex as the last few words dragged out of his mouth.

“i would never give that prick the time of day,” suna scoffed and rolled his eyes as you both walked back to his car, blankets and baskets in your arms. “you shouldn’t either. i trust you and i know he put you through a lot of shit which makes it hard for you to trust me the same, but i’ll always be willing to reassure you as much as you need.”