Submit box open for gifts!!

The city is louder at night. Sirens wail, people talk and streetlights flicker on busy streets. The nightlife of the city has always been a drawing point - for the right people, of course. Those looking for more adventure, for the thrill of being so close, and yet keeping a distance. For those who want to create the thrill themselves. For those who have nothing more to lose.

Ryan checks over his gun, carefully taking each piece apart and wiping it down. He’s had this gun since he arrived in the city, so far from the sweet country boy and the scent of peaches. With it grew his reputation, and it’s sentimental now. He doesn’t want to let it go even with better weapons emerging every week. He has an ammo dealer, so he’s satisfied. He’ll keep using it until he can’t anymore.

Among the crowds on the street, the gangs and civilians alike, he knows his name is a whispered threat. Perhaps, were he born in another time, parents would whisper to their kids ‘behave or the Vagabond’s gonna get you’. Perhaps they do anyway, Ryan doesn’t make it an incentive to ask. It’s not like he comes across many kids anyway, not whilst in the act. They avoid him like the bogeyman, and he is the bogeyman of these streets.

People don’t silence when he enters the bar, but a few people hush, and Ryan can immediately pick out those who are new to the scene by simply that.

Rule 1. Never show fear.

He sits in one of the empty booths, orders a diet coke, and steals a straw so he can sip it through his mask. There are downsides to wearing a creepy skull mask, and the drinking part is one of them. The club is full of humidity, and he feels like if he doesn’t drink something, he’ll just faint anyway. That would be far worse for appearances.

A man sits next to him.

He seems far too posh to be at this kind of establishment, dressed up in a tailored suit, with well-groomed facial hair that Ryan can just see out of the corner of his eye. He orders a drink, leans back on the stool, and Ryan waits for him to make a move. His actions, posture, his general presence all indicate a purpose. Ryan’s willing to wait it out, see what it is.

The waiting ends when the man receives his drink, takes a swig of it and turns towards Ryan, crossing his legs and saying, “Hey.” Ryan chooses to simply respond with a nod, no point wasting his voice yet. “You want a job?” Ryan nods again. “Great, ‘cause we’re hiring.” A file is handed to him, information about a person, a dealer, not one Ryan personally uses. He reads through it as the guy speaks once more. “We want him dead, however you see fit. I’ll pay you half now, the other half comes when the job’s complete.” A business card slides in amongst the file (and the money, Ryan now notices). By the time Ryan turns to look, the man’s gone.

Ryan never actually accepted the offer.

But damn, he’s gonna do it anyway.

- - - - -

The man is dead, no trace of the killer, or the killing. Ryan wants to place bets on how long it might take for his disappearance to be noticed. He’ll take himself out for a nice meal if it’s longer than two weeks, is his final deal. He sends a simple text to the number on the business card, and receives a text back, a location and a time. Part of him mourns at having to go out again tomorrow, but he knows the payment will be worth it. There’s been a few books he’s wanted to treat himself to, and he needs some more fertiliser for his plants. Oh, and groceries for Ms. Kilson next door. He always likes to throw something extra in there.

It’s not that Ryan has any lack of money - the opposite, in fact. He has an abundance of it. But most of it’s in savings, a quarter of every take still goes to charity. Appearances only matter as long as the mask is on, what he does with the money is his own business. In the end, he usually gets around 20% of a take to spend on pleasantries - which although a nice amount, still leaves him thinking. He doesn’t want to be one of those people who can throw money around like nothing. He doesn’t deserve that, in his opinion. And there’s a quaintness to still have to balance out his money each week.

After his usual after-mission tradition (disposing of leftover evidence, showering, washing clothes, balancing finances, watering plants), Ryan’s able to lie in bed, feeling the gun hidden under the pillow, knowing the other is hidden under the mattress. He shuts his eyes, and falls asleep as sirens scream once more.

The morning brings a gentle light through the windows. It can barely reach him, in the slightest gap between two buildings. Ryan wakes slowly, remembers the meeting, and realises he never set an alarm.

He throws himself out of bed, almost running to his wardrobe, falling onto his bed twice whilst trying to dress. He manages to complete the morning routine in less than ten minutes, and breaks the speed limit a few times to get to the location. It’s surprisingly another bar, Ryan is surprised they open this early in the morning. He knows he’s deep in gang territory when he enters but the mask is more of a protector than his gun could ever be.

It’s only when he sits in a booth, looks up at the clock, that he suddenly realises shit.

He’s an hour early.

He buys himself a drink - diet coke - and a small bite of food to eat - a bag of chips. Eating them is somewhat of a struggle but he manages. He just hopes that he hasn’t got dust on his mask, brushes it almost obsessively.

After he’s finished he still has awhile to wait for them to arrive. He debates trying to get a nap. It’s early and he still has a good chunk of time left to wait. But the idea of getting caught, asleep, waiting for payment deters him. Eventually, he settles for playing some of the games on a burner phone. It’s an older model, like the ones he used to have when he was younger. He’s good at most of the games on it, and with any luck looks like he’s furiously texting instead. You’d have to be close enough to realise he was only pressing the top buttons, and not the rest of the keyboard. That or paying too much attention.

Time still passes embarrassingly slowly. A few times he catches himself grow irritated at being forced to wait before remembering it’s his own fault. He’s not sure which is worse. It’s the first time he’s done this, and he hopes not to make a habit of it. That would be a real kicker, wouldn’t it?

Ryan sees someone approach the table out of the corner of his eye, and notes that there’s still ten minutes to go until their meeting time. He doesn’t recognise the woman with red hair, but he does recognise the man in the suit. He lets his guard simultaneously go up and down.

The woman’s hair is striking, curls frame her face and freckles decorate the pale skin. Arguably, the feature Ryan is most drawn to, is her arm, the red marks covering it almost as much as the freckles. Black marks are thrown in there, here and there, and Ryan doesn’t think a single person in this city won’t have at least one. He wonders how many the man has, to create those tired eyes, the bags beneath them, yet still keep that intensity within them. Part of him doesn’t want to know. Part of him wants to know if he looks the same.

“You passed with flying colours.” The woman smiles, and Ryan squints at her. “Job complete, no trace of the murder. We did place bets on whether it would be a messy or clean kill, sorry about that. I added half of my totals to the pay.” She smiles, warm and friendly, and Ryan isn’t used to that. Jobs aren’t a friendly business. It’s a constant fight, listening to words and reading the real meanings behind them. This catches him off guard, and that’s dangerous.

“The rest of your pay.” The man says, passing him an envelope. Ryan opens it, flicks through the notes and counts the amount he receives before the job, plus an extra thousand. It doesn’t seem like much, but who would spend two thousand just on a bet?

At the curious stare into the envelope, the woman adds, “You should’ve seen the amount Gav’ made, boy doesn’t know how to look after his money.” She shakes her head, in a way that looks more loving than annoyed and Ryan is constantly surprised by her, this isn’t fair. He’s supposed to be intimidating, not joked with.

“Now this job is complete, however.” The man in the suit says, leaning forward onto the table, “We’d like to offer you a part in a bigger job.”

“We can promise the pay will be larger, at least triple the pay for that job, plus a portion of the leftover takings.” The woman adds, clearly knowing the way to Ryan’s heart.

“What is it?” Ryan finally speaks, makes his voice gruff, as deep as he can manage. The two look surprised, if only for a moment, but Ryan’s glad to even manage that. They exchange a look, just between the two of them, and Ryan is becoming slowly convinced they may be a couple.

“A heist.” The woman states, nothing but that.

The man picks up, “We have a team, but we need one more person to pull this off. Another on the ground team.”

“Me, then?” Ryan asks.

“Hopefully.” The woman nods.

“When will I be needed?” He asks, then, because this sounds interesting. He’s not been involved in a heist before, usually only bodyguarding or killing. Heists are impressive, they’re the things you see on the news and what people in the city truly fear. Participating in one would change his reputation, definitely. He’s not sure how, exactly, but he could spend forever attempting to guess.

Vagabond is unpredictable.

“Overall, only the planning sessions and the final heist. We have no definite dates, but we’re hoping to do it within a month, at least.” She explains to him, before looking to the man, “Did you give him the number?”

“Of course.”

“Then any meetings will be sent to you a few days before they occur. You can take other jobs, but this must come as a priority.” She continues, voice entering a far more serious tone now, one that Ryan does know. “These are our terms, do you agree?” She finishes, looking at Ryan seriously.

He waits, runs over the facts in his head before nodding, “Count me on board.”

Her smile widens, “It’s good to have you.”

- - - - -

That was how he met Geoff and Jack of the Fake AH Crew. Now he’d seen them once, he recognised when they came up again on a news report. He did his bit of research into the gang, a concept mostly new to him. He knows some mercenaries research every gang they work for, but he never really bothered. He’d only research if he suspected they were involved in something even he morally didn’t agree with. There were very few jobs he’d turn down at face value, but he never did it politely.

The pride that comes with realising they chose him to work for them hits him hard. It’s not like he’s the worst person to employ, but they did still choose him. Him.

Then he proceeds to completely forget about the job (not forget, but definitely not think about as much), until a text lights up his burner phone, and he finds himself on google maps trying to work out the address they’ve sent him. This is probably not the lowest he’d stooped in this city, and he doubts it’ll be the lowest. It is still not a proud moment. He clears his history afterwards.

- - - - -

He gets to the location when he’s meant to, this time. Not an hour before. It’s a warehouse and he feels a little uncomfortable being in it. Warehouses don’t usually look like a refurbished apartment that a college student will move into, but this one certainly does. There’s a camera, and a voice that tells him to wait in the lobby. Which he does.

“Oi, you bloody came!” A voice calls, after what must be around five minutes of waiting. Ryan looks up, raises an eyebrow and then remembers he has the mask on. So, he stands up and walks over to the person, who instead of taking him inside, runs circles around him, as if trying to examine his very being. It’s uncomfortable, to say the least. “You’’re built!”

“Fuckass, stop harassing the guy we got a meeting to do!” Another voice yells, and finally the guy steps away, walking inside without a single gesture Ryan should follow him. He does anyway because what else does he do? The guy is blond, with sunglasses perched on top of his hair that looks so covered in gel Ryan might cut himself if he tried to touch it. He meets another guy leaning against the wall, and he has red hair that has the slightest curls starting to reach out of it. Freckles dust his face and he rolls his eyes when the other finally reaches him, “Finally, come the fuck on!”

“I am!” He whines as the two rush off ahead. Ryan follows, glancing around as he does. The only indication of it being a warehouse is the higher than average ceiling. Everything else looks normal. Furniture, pieces of art, it’s as any normal home would be. It’s slightly unnerving, considering where he actually is. Gangs usually aren’t this homey.

He enters the room they do, a large table in it and three other people stood around it. Jack and Geoff, and another shorter guy that Ryan doesn’t know the name of. Their real names aren’t recorded anywhere online, only personas and even those are difficult to place. He only knows Jack and Geoff’s because Jack had mentioned them as she walked out.

“Vagabond, good to see you.” Geoff nods at him, before motioning around the room, “Short one’s Jeremy, angry one’s Michael and the Brit is Gavin.” There’s a collective ‘hey’ from the three of them, which Geoff promptly ignores, “Lads, this is Vagabond.”

“Oh so we don’t get his real name?” Gavin says, in the whiny tone that seems to be a staple of his personality at this point. He looks like a whiny rich kid, sounds like one, and acts like one. Joy.

“He’s a mercenary, Gav’.” Jeremy points out, “It’s hardly like he’s part of the crew.” Gavin doesn’t look pleased with the answer, but settles for it anyway. Ryan takes a moment in the silence to look at everyone’s wrists. Everybody but Jack has their’s covered, by button ups or jackets, they’re all covered somehow. This truly must be a gang then.

“Well, here’s our current plan.” Geoff says, pressing a few buttons on the side of the table and it suddenly flickers to life, showing a map of Los Santos on it. Ryan’s personally impressed, even more so when the markings load in - places pinned, circled, arrows and lines in five different colours. “You guys know your colours, Vagabond, your’s is black.” He huffs out a small laugh. Fitting.

The plan would be fairly basic, if not for the absurdity of it. Ryan was just beginning to question if this actually was the notorious Fake AH Crew when Geoff says, “And Jack’ll be landing the jet in the street here,” Truthfully, it’s more concerning when nobody even reacts. Yeah, just land that jet in the street, that won’t be a problem. It’s a normal day.

Ryan is very glad to hear he will simply be escaping on his motorcycle, and rejoining them at a safehouse.

Parts of the plan are bizarre but it’s still plausible. It doesn’t seem like it would be an impossible feat, however miraculous that may be. It’s whacky, unexpected and looks like fun if they manage to pull it off. Ryan also spends too much time oogling over the table. He might start saving up for one, it would be useful. Each of them have pens tuned to their colour, and they make notes where they need to on their various jobs. Jeremy is a sniper, Gavin a hacker, Jack is the getaway well, pilot, and Michael and Geoff join him on the ground team. The entire thing seems like it shouldn’t work and yet like it will. Ryan feels like it fits him. Impossible and possible. Perfect.

He turns down the offer for drinks, instead goes to reside back at his own apartment and reviews the notes that Jack sent him. He feels like he has something to prove here, and reads the notes until he falls asleep, with them still in hand, the black marks hidden in the dimness of night

- - - - -

The heist goes off without a hitch. He turns down the offer for the after-party.

He does not turn down the offer for their next heist.

- - - - -

Or the next.

- - - - -

Or the next.

- - - - -

He knows, there’s rumours, about his relationship to Fake AH. Even if the media thinks differently, all he’s ever done is attended meetings and performed at heists. Nothing more, nothing less. In fact, the first time he does attend an after-party, it’s for very different reasons than to party.

“Vagabond, you made it!” Gavin greets, the moment Ryan stumbles through the door. He almost falls against the wall, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes. “Vagabond?” There’s gentle hands on him, he hears the zip of a jacket but it sounds too far away, or too close, echoing in his head. He blinks his eyes open, sees Gavin stare up at him worriedly.

The world jolts then, and he just manages to stop himself falling completely. Gavin’s holding him, helping stabilise him, and Ryan feels more afraid he’s going to crush him than he is about falling. He catches a glimpse of the wild fury of emotions in Gavin’s eyes before he looks away, and maybe it makes his heart beat faster, maybe it’s the blood loss. Would it be slower? He doesn’t know.

“Jack!” Gavin yells, it rings in Ryan’s ears, a necessary evil. “Jack, he got shot, the bugger got shot!” Ryan shuts his eyes and when he reopens them, Jack is in front of him and he’s not sure when, or how that happened but she’s looking at him with the same look Gavin is and Ryan realises their hands are bloody around the same time he realises he’s about to pass out. He gently pushes them away to fall probably against the wall, and slumps to the floor around the same time his eyes fall shut.

- - - - - 

The room is dark when he wakes.

It isn’t somewhere he recognises and his thoughts immediately carry him to kidnappings, and torture, and he shoots upright before he thinks properly about it.

The sharp pain that fires through his chest is a reality check, leaves him falling back onto the bed with a pained whimper. He’s gotten shot before, just not in such an awkward place. He thinks it went into his rib-cage, shattered one of the bones. He wasn’t too sure, just knew that it hurt and it hurt badly. When he looks down, he sees that he’s wearing a top that isn’t his, and his wrist is clearly visible. He sighs, because his mask is still on. That was worth letting him keep.

“You’re awake.” Jack says, as she enters, glass with a straw held in her hand. She passes it to Ryan, one hand stays to steady his as he drinks. It’s only water, but feels incredible on his dry throat. She watches him as he drinks, her face soft, oddly unreadable. Ryan meets her eyes, and she smiles at him. “You got pretty fucked up.”

“No kidding.” Ryan sighs, lies back against the bed. He goes through his mental checklist, asks, “How long has it been?” as he does.

“Overnight.” She pulls up a chair, sits beside him. “Out like a light.” He shuts his eyes, doesn’t think about it as he takes off his mask, relaxing at the feeling of cooler air on his skin. He lets the mask drop onto his front, as far as he can get his arm through the pain. He doesn’t even consider moving the other one. “Be careful!” She hisses, leaning forward to check his side again.

“It’s fine. Probably.” He shrugs, he’s exhausted. The Vagabond persona is hard, too hard right now. “Can I water my plants?”

“What?”

“At my apartment. They need watering. And Ms. Kilson needs her groceries. She lives next door.” He tries to think of other things, but nothing’s coming right now. Those are the most important. He thinks. “The stray cats, too. They might need feeding. Have you checked the shelters?”

“Okay, slow down there, big guy.” Jack puts a hand on his shoulder, puffs out a small breath of air that Ryan thinks might resemble a laugh. “Give us an address and shopping list, we’ll get it done.”

Gavin ends up having to help him use the speech to text function on his phone, with minimal corrections. Ryan’s lost the use of his dominant hand, and his thoughts are too much of a scattered mess to guide someone through notes. He just speaks, and Gavin does the editing needed to make it legible. Ryan waits whilst he does, dozing absently and staring at his face. Gavin looks up at one point, furrows his brows as if Ryan is doing something bizarre, before smiling, shaking his head to go back to working. Ryan can’t work it out, just keeps staring.

When they eventually leave to go and do his task list, Ryan ends up with Jeremy. He seems adverse to talking to Ryan, instead sits buried in his phone. Ryan watches, for a little bit. He’s in a tank top, and Ryan idly counts the black and red marks on his arm. There’s not that many black, but lots of red. He must love easily, Ryan concludes. He keeps staring until Jeremy looks up, startles back. The guy looks like a startled deer, for a few moments, before finally standing and leaving the room. Ryan would’ve passed it off, fallen back asleep, until he comes back.

This time, in his hands, he holds a laptop and walks directly to Ryan’s bed, sits on his uninjured side. The mattress tilts dangerously, but he stays balanced all the same. He puts the laptop onto Ryan’s lap, and turns to stare directly at him.

“Um, yeah?” He blinks at Jeremy, and Jeremy blinks back. Doesn’t say anything, just motions to the laptop. When Ryan loads it up, he realises there’s a game of minesweeper on there. A glance back at Jeremy reveals that he’s watching the screen now, so Ryan settles in, finds a position where he doesn’t need to move his arm as much, and plays minesweeper.

Jeremy still doesn’t say anything, and Ryan doesn’t have the energy to consider if he’s playing at something. He really wouldn’t know, just plays and fails and occasionally wins. It’s been a long time since he actually played minesweeper. There’s something peaceful about the whole experience, too. A strange serenity to clicking, Sometimes, he’s able to forget Jeremy’s there at all.

Until, that is, he speaks, “Why are you here?”

Ryan halts, stops his playing completely, “Because I got shot? I want to leave too-”

“No, why do you keep, like, coming back? You’re a mercenary, you don’t belong to us, why do you keep working with us?”

Ryan lies back into the pillows to the point where he feels like he might go through them, “I’m, too unawake for this conversation.” Jeremy continues staring at him and Ryan feels obligated to continue. He doesn’t.

Eventually, Jeremy gives up.

- - - - -

“Vagabond, why do you have so many bloody plants?!” Gavin’s voice wakes Ryan from his doze. He’s just in time to notice Jeremy snap awake too, his head smushed onto the bed frame as he napped. Gavin appears around the door seconds later, with a noticeable stain of soil on his shirt. If Ryan could gather the energy, he’d be worried about that.

“Ryan.”

“Wha- that doesn’t answer the question!” Gavin splutters, walking over so he can lean on the end bed-frame.

“Call me Ryan.”

“Stop avoiding the question!”

“I like plants.” Gavin fixes Ryan with a dead stare, and Ryan ignores it in favour of Geoff entering the room. There’s some kind of shift, and Gavin tugs Jeremy, leads them both out. Ryan tries to sit up properly again, but gives up quickly. Whatever painkillers Jack must’ve given him are wearing off. He can barely keep track of the suddenly tense mood, besides the fact something is different. Sinister? Serious? He’s not sure.

Geoff takes the chair Jack had been using. Ryan notices Jeremy took the laptop, and is surprised he didn’t notice that. Geoff has to speak to get his attention.

“Vagabond-”

“I said Ryan.” He mutters, blinking up at Geoff. He seems briefly taken aback before nodding, regaining his composure.

“Ryan.” He tries again, satisfied at how it seems, “I have a proposition for you.” Ryan doesn’t say anything, copies what Jack usually does during planning sessions. Tilts his head a little, just to show he’s paying attention. It seems polite. “You can have time to think about it, if you need, we aren’t forcing this on you. There’ll be benefits, of course, but ultimately not much will change whether you accept or deny-”

Ryan takes the opportunity to interrupt, ask Geoff, “What’s the proposition?”

“We’d like you to become part of the crew. An official part, not just, us and the Vagabond. You’d have access to all our resources, our teams, and you’d be under our protection - not that you weren’t already, just that it’ll be official. We want you to become a Fake.” Geoff bumbles over his words, and Ryan’s never seen Geoff nervous before. He’s always been level-headed in meetings - with Ryan or others - and definitely never stumbled over words. Ryan is left suspicious over it. Or he would be, if the actual meaning of what Geoff was asking of him hadn’t just kicked in.

“Will I still be able to run my own jobs?” Ryan asks, firstly.

“You’ll have to take them through us at first, as it’ll be associated with us and we need to be aware of allies, and enemies, but yes, you will. It’s a case of us just not wanting to piss off the wrong people.” Geoff shrugs, and Ryan takes his moment to digest that.

“What else will happen?” He then asks.

“You’ll get keys to the penthouse and access to any of our warehouses and supplies. I’d still ask before you take stuff though. And tell the B-Team before you storm into their penthouse, they get territorial.” Ryan nods as he takes all of this in. It doesn’t take much to make the decision, even if he’s ill and should ask for more time. No, the decision is the easiest part.

“I’ll do it.” He says, doesn’t let Geoff say anything before adding, “Now can I go back to sleep?” Geoff looks startled, but relaxes, reaches over and brushes Ryan’s hair back from his face.

“Sure you can.” He tells him, and Ryan shuts his eyes. He’s safe here.

- - - - -

What Geoff did not include in that, was how they would change.

It was small at first. Light shoulder touches, eye contact, hair ruffles. Just little things that Ryan himself wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t so unfamiliar to it. He didn’t think anything of it - he had opened up to them more than he had- Most people, really. So it was fair that they opened up back to him. He lived in his apartment, fulfilled his tasks, arrived when summoned and occasionally Jack or Michael would join him on his jobs, hell, even when he volunteered at the animal shelters someone would often join him. But it was small, insignificant things.

Gavin holding his hand to show him something, Geoff patting his shoulder, Jeremy bumping his side. Small things.

Hell, they did the same kind of stuff to each other. Ryan often caught the stares across the room, Gavin watching Jeremy as he focuses on a game, Jack watching Geoff as he focuses on finances. He’d seen Michael give them all that look. Often, in fact. Ryan could easily place the look. Didn’t stop him denying what it really was though. Didn’t stop him at all.

That was, until, he accidentally walked in on Michael and Gavin kissing in the penthouse kitchen.

It had been late, he’d gotten distracted playing games with them, so they insisted he stay the night. Wasn’t safe on the streets, and Ryan shook his head and relented. He’d gone to get a glass of water, dressed in Geoff’s ill-fitting tracksuit bottoms and his own t-shirt. The lights were still on, which wasn’t a surprise. The Lads were a nightmare to get to sleep. Even Ryan knew that, despite how little he was at the penthouse. It was a fight on the best of days, he had the phone conversations to prove it.

He turns the corner out of the corridor. They don’t see him, not at first. Gavin is leaned over Michael, the latter arched back over a kitchen counter. His eyes are shut, hands on Gavin’s hips and Ryan honestly cannot believe he’s seeing this. The two look perfectly moulded together, and Ryan isn’t sure why he stays, stays stood there instead of turning- leaving- going. But he does, and they break apart, and Michael sees him and freezes.

Gavin turns as Michael says, “Ryan.” as if he can’t really believe Ryan’s there. Which makes two of them, actually. Probably three if the look on Michael’s face is anything to go by.

“Okay, fuck, um-” Ryan stutters, backing back up towards the corridor.

“No- no! Stay there!” Michael yells, before flinching. Letting go of Gavin, he rushes over to where Ryan’s stood, opens his mouth to say something, and completely fails.

Gavin walks up beside him, “Okay, um, Rye, sit down for this, ‘kay?”

And that was how Ryan learnt all five of them were in a relationship.

And he did need to be sat down.

- - - - - 

Ryan spent the next week at his own apartment. It wasn’t that he was upset about the information, no. It was just, unexpected? He doesn’t know how to take it in. How can you, after so long spent avoiding love, avoiding relationships? To find out that you’re friends with an entire, five way relationship? That they all know love more intimately than you want.

Well, you don’t.

Ryan would water plants, clean guns, clean knives, wash clothes, eat, sleep. It just followed that for a little while. A constant cycle that at least kept him slightly sane as he took some time, time to himself for once. It was weird, to say the least. Partially there, partially not. None of them tried to get in contact with him, and that was okay. He needed time, and they understood that. It was all good.

Jeremy being in his apartment was a surprise.

He’d just gone out to get some groceries, for himself and to leave outside next door. When he’d come back to find Jeremy on his sofa, he had thrown a knife that narrowly missed his head. Jeremy looked up from his phone, glaring slightly at him.

“That’s mean.” He commented, going straight back to whatever he was doing on there. Ryan stood there, slightly in shock as Jeremy continued to completely ignore him.

“You’re in my apartment.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re being dumb.” Jeremy didn’t say anything, looked up again at Ryan’s confused face and rolled his eyes, “You are. Like I get the whole ‘wanting to be dramatic and scary and hating love’ thing, but we don’t. So, what’s the big deal?”

Ryan didn’t have an answer, and Jeremy smiled.

- - - - - 

Things became normal again. Normal and yet not normal. It was like something had switched, changed, and Ryan didn’t know exactly what it was. The touches were still there, but more? More of them, more often and Ryan found himself missing their company when he went home and it was- Worrying to him. He found himself reciprocating, and enjoying it. He didn’t want to stop.

Meanwhile, the heists were getting bigger, more dangerous and for more reward and all of them were on a constant high. They were a known name now, known throughout households and even in neighbouring cities. People were out more often for meetings, and sometimes Ryan would attend and sometimes he wouldn’t. He spent more time at the penthouse, at the warehouses, they dragged him to parties and casual video game nights alike. They’d kiss in front of him now - flirt and tease and it was a nice balance. Sometimes Ryan would be involved in it and sometimes he wasn’t and he didn’t mind either way (or maybe he did, but he minded more when he wasn’t involved, so he ignored it completely)

Gavin and Jack are sat entangled on the sofa as they play through Portal, Ryan offering the occasional words of advice. From both his experience and the walkthrough he has open on his phone. Gavin makes another annoyed noise as Jack grabs the controls off him, going through the level without the five deaths Gavin had already managed. Ryan’s still surprised he made it through the tutorial on his own.

“Jack, you’re doing it wrong!” Gavin whines, and she rolls her eyes, focused.

“She’s not dead yet.” Ryan points out.

Gavin waves his hands in Ryan’s direction, “Yeah but she’s doing it wrong, Rye! It’s not fair!” Ryan shuffles up on the sofa, pats his head.

“I’m sure she is.” Gavin huffs, but says no more, and Ryan shakes his head, sits back in his own seat. Jack is focused precisely, the same focus she holds when she’s firing in fight, driving a car, managing a deal.

Hell, Ryan’s in the middle of wondering whether he should conduct a study into whether being a criminal helps your skills at playing video games, when the penthouse door bursts open. All three of them are on the floor, crouched behind the sofas within seconds, a haunting silence in the air and guns in their hands. In the end, though, it’s Michael who stumbles in, with Jeremy in his arms and a plea on his face.

“Jack, Jack, fuck-” He falls dangerously forward, just managing to catch himself. Jack is first to react, of course, standing and rushing over, supporting Michael with Jeremy, and Ryan follows, gets given Jeremy. He’s so pale, hands on his side, blood staining his clothes, blood staining Michael’s. Ryan can’t tell if it’s Michael or Jeremy’s - both’s - and numbly follows Jack’s orders to get them in one of the bedrooms. She’s berating them, why they didn’t call, and Michael’s explaining it, but Ryan isn’t listening.

He only starts listening when Michael says, “They took Geoff.” And that’s also when he starts planning.

- - - - -

Ryan knows how to go solo. It’s easy to him, hair tied back, mask on, the new patch on his jacket with the Fake symbol. It’s the first mission he’s not authorised in a while. Mostly because he doubts he’d be allowed to do it, but that’s besides the point, isn’t it? He’s doing it, gun at his side, moving slowly through the underground building. It’s all very cliched, grey walls and floors, almost a sterile feeling to the place. At least Ryan can place bets on them being cliched villains. Hopefully that makes his job easier.

He’d borrowed the plans for the tunnel system off the B-Team, and hopefully he’ll get back before they realise. It’s supposed to be a quick job, and he’ll make it one. He taps the code into one of the doors, placing his hand over the speaker as it beeps out. He slips in almost silently, and a precise whack of his pistol takes out the person stood in the room. Poor guy barely got a chance to turn around. He moves them to the side of the room and starts peeking through all of the cameras. The plans unfortunately do not list where people are kept, so he looks through each until he spots somewhere he thinks is suspicious. And well, seeing Geoff unconscious in a cell, he decides it can’t get much more suspicious than that.

Him being unconscious might even make Ryan’s job easier, in the end.

With his map marked he starts moving again. His mind is constantly alert, constantly listening out for anything that could be a person. He moves around corners pressed to the wall and attacks with knives rather than weapons. This is the Vagabond. Silent, deadly, efficient.

The Vagabond is not vengeful, not worried, not scared.

Ryan is.

“We’ve had an intruder-” A voice buzzes around a corner, and Ryan sticks to the grey, throws his knife and doesn’t look at what’s left behind. He does pick up the radio, though, and take back his knife. No finders keepers here. He isn’t losing his knives to rescue missions.

He follows the small instructions he’d written, poking out of his sleeve. He’s close now, the amount of guards is getting higher. It’s a rather big inconvenience, having to put them all somewhere hidden. Usually he manages with a side room but at this rate he may as well leave them in the corridors. Balancing wanting to be stealthy but wanting to be known afterwards is a difficult job. He should take a page out of the Lads’ book and try spray paint. Michael always grins as he sprays it, Gavin behind him and Jeremy pretending to be a hype man. He knows the three of them take great pleasure in marking their territory.

He jumps as a guard lunges at him, just manages to catch him with his knife, digs it into his stomach. With one hand he muffles the pained noises, before letting him drop to the floor, dragging the knife out and slitting his throat.

When he looks up, another person stands there, two, in fact, and it’s all Ryan can manage to throw two knives at them before they shoot him. They do anyway, thankfully into his thigh. He clenches his teeth, moves through the pain. He’s so close now, he has to think of Geoff. The others will be upset if Geoff isn’t bad. He will be upset if Geoff isn’t back.

The wound burns and he ignores it, focuses on everything else he can, anything else he can. The noise of his footsteps, other footsteps, where he is, his breathing- he almost misses the door he needs when he gets to it. Pauses as he checks the lock, takes out the keys he’d taken from some guard along the way and checks each one. He finds it on the third out of five, whilst pondering why people still even have key locked doors. There’s far better ways to lock places nowadays, surely that’s inefficient? A simple code locked door is better nowadays.

Ryan enters the room, and finds it very hard not to be distracted. Geoff is lying on the floor, right side of his face covered in blood and arms bound awkwardly beneath him. He’s still out, not even the gunfire could wake him and Ryan isn’t sure if that’s a relief or not. He ends up reaching for him, hauling him up and ignoring the quiet, pained noise, to carry him on his shoulder. Now he just needs to get out with him. Which is easier said than done.

Throwing knives whilst balancing an unconscious body is an incredibly difficult task. Coupled with walking on a wounded leg and it’s all around a bad time for all parties involved. Ryan’s just glad that it wasn’t his ribcage this time - because that’s a lot harder to ignore. He knows from experience.

In total, on the way out, he kills three more people, has to climb a fucking ladder (he marks it as another low point of his career) and has bled thoroughly through the black trousers he wears. He’s glad that he brought a car, this time, and not a bike. That could only serve to make the situation worse.

Geoff doesn’t wake up. Ryan spends a bit of time in the car doing first aid. He has a heartbeat, doesn’t appear to be bleeding out. He takes care cleaning some of the worse wounds, bandaging them up as best he can. The blood is wiped off Geoff’s face, and surprisingly little attention is spent on Ryan himself. First Aid, after all. Always focus on the unconscious victims first.

The car ride back is slow. He takes a longer route, just in case he’s being followed, but takes it all as slow as he possibly can. For both himself and Geoff, asleep with both the seat belts on it the back. The penthouse garage opens for him now, just with a simple press of a button, and he’s able to drive in unassisted.

He is not unassisted when he gets into it.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?” Ryan flinches at the sound of Gavin. He’s stood at the door leading into the building, panting as if he ran there. Ryan gets out without answering, and receives an irritated huff in response. He can see the accompanying eye roll without even looking. “Rye, I understand you’re not used to being in a crew, but usually we don’t vanish when there’s an-” He stops as he gets closer to Ryan, both in words and movement. “Oh.”

“He hasn’t woken up, but he’s alive.” Ryan picks him up, holding Geoff close to his chest. He’s fucking heavy, but there isn’t a better way to carry him.

“You- Ryan.” Gavin sounds stern but quickly drops it, instead walks ahead to the door. “Get him upstairs, we need Jack, shit.” He holds the door open for Ryan, and the two rush upstairs together.

Jack spent a whole two seconds staring at Ryan before grabbing his shoulder, almost pulling him into one of the spare bedrooms. Ryan’s surprised to see Jeremy, though the lad is asleep. He doesn’t look like he’s waking up anytime soon. He looks innocent, in sleep. Eyes shut, one hand underneath the pillow. His mouth is open slightly, and Ryan catches himself smiling at the sight. Jack directs him to put Geoff on the bed across from him, before immediately rushing out to collect what Ryan imagines is her first aid kit. Ryan takes that moment to think. He takes his jacket off, puts it on the back of one the chairs. It’s pretty wrecked, Ryan thinks he can patch it up though. With a stretch, he sighs, winces at the twinge of pain in his muscles. He glances at Jeremy, spends a bit just looking, smiling at him. Carefully, he reaches over to brush at his hair, the dye in it fading. He’d planned to let it grow out for a bit now. It’s almost odd now, seeing it slowly transform back to normal. A Jeremy Ryan personally, doesn’t know. He’d like to know, still.

However, it’s in reaching out, that Ryan spots something that he hadn’t before. Something on his arm a glaring red. That he doesn’t want to see.

Ryan didn’t wait for Jack to get back before he quickly left the penthouse.

- - - - -

He should feel bad. Actually, scratch that. He feels awful. Just, he should feel bad for leaving- no, he does as well. Part of him is still surprised nobody saw him leave. He keeps checking over his shoulder. The choice to hole up in a safehouse would, hopefully, be a smart one, but he’s still unsure. He’s never been unsure of things until this fucking gang.

He’s an idiot.

What tops it all off, is he knew it was happening. He knew, and still didn’t do anything about it! He let it distract him on missions, let himself get hurt because he was too busy thinking about pretty smiles! That’s pathetic! He is a professional and should have conducted himself as such.

In honesty, he’s angry at himself. He’s angry at himself for doing the one thing he said he wouldn’t do. He doesn’t have any excuses. So being in the safehouse and beating himself up about it seems like a reasonable punishment.

He wears long sleeves now. He doesn’t want to see them, doesn’t want to acknowledge it. His evenings are spent bundled up with book after book and he throws away the ones about love and soulmates because he is so, so tired. What’s the point of them, anyway.

Well, he could answer that himself. They’re everything he’s not, a balance instead of instability. A place to run to instead of run away from. Something he has wanted, and had, and lost, so many times that there doesn’t seem to be a point in trying anymore. He lets himself fall back on the sofa, stick his feet over the end. A song is playing and he’s briefly reminded of his theatre days. He always considers that - going back to performance - but there’s a fear in it. Not the performing but the constant threat his presence brings to people.

He falls asleep to the slow melody.

The next day he safely buys enough supplies to last him a month. He works out his finances, takes some out of his savings. He’ll have to try and get jobs. It’s like working solo again, only this time avoiding the most powerful gang in the city. He’s not sure why the idea is so foreign to him, suddenly. He arranges for external deliveries to his neighbour, mourns for his lost plants. It’s too risky for him to actually go and collect them. He can buy more yet, it’s just not the same.

For the next few days it’s like he lives in a strange in between.  He’s unsure if he should still be hiding, if he should ever stop - if he’s living or just existing. He eases back into jobs cautiously, contacting only his most trusted employers. He feels weird not contacting Geoff to get the go ahead on jobs now. Feels weird having to keep to the shadows as he does. His jobs aren’t big, or flashy anymore and there’s something he’s missing. Maybe it’s the adrenalin a heist brings, a feeling like no other, being in control, the careful execution, the success, the celebration after. The laughter and the smiling and the shouting and the looks and he actually fell for them?

After a week he gets more confident.

He leaves the house for things other than jobs. If they wanted to find him, they would have by now. That’s his justification. He doesn’t think about how he’s never been this careless whilst hiding before.

- - - - -

He knows he wants to be caught when he decides to go back to the apartment.

Some of his plants will have perished, but he knows that some might be left. If he’s thinking of moving then it would be worth getting them. He goes during the day, bundled in an uncharacteristic hoodie. Going at night would still pose more risk than he’s bothered to deal with. The sun is unbearably hot. Maybe it’s a combination of the hoodie or the time he’s spent in the dark safehouse or the dark night-time but he’s sweltering. He ends up taking the bus to the apartment, because it’s too hot to walk, his car is too easy to track and the bus has air conditioning. Actually, just getting inside the apartment building is a relief.

His footsteps echo up the stairwell, following him up to his floor. The building is old, and he can feel the humidity with the barely working air-con desperately working away. His natural speed kicks in on the stairs, and when he reaches his floor his apartment keys are already in his hand. He looks briefly at his neighbour’s door, but it’s still too risky to talk to her, so he enters his apartment instead.

Upon entering the apartment, he imagines it wouldn’t take someone with his years of expertise to figure out something’s wrong.

It’s messier than when he left it, bowls stacks up by the sink he can just see, a bin that’s mostly full of something he can’t quite work out. The lights are on, the blinds are shut, and he is entirely suspicious. The lights shouldn’t be on, and he usually keeps the blinds open for his plants whilst he’s out. Also, Jeremy’s asleep on the sofa.

He looks shockingly innocent. His shirt has ridden up slightly, and he catches a glimpse of bandages beneath the shirt. One of his arms is on his stomach, the other falling down towards a watering can on the floor. Ryan looks around now, prompted, and takes in the flowers, still perfectly living and thriving. There’s no signs of wilting, even. It’s probably owed to the sleeping lad on his sofa. Ryan stands there, sighs, and walks into the bedroom to grab a pillow. He tries to slide it under Jeremy’s head, and almost falls over when he springs up with a punch.

“Shit!” His legs bangs hard against the edge of the coffee table and he flinches, hand wiping his cheek and feeling incredibly happy there’s no blood drawn there. Jeremy is awkwardly lowering his fists, staring with wide eyes at Ryan. Then his face sours into a glare, and Ryan feels that harder than any bullet.

“Oh, so now you fucking appear?” Jeremy bites, and Ryan flinches in response. “You fucking run and leave us but oh, you come back here?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to be affiliated any more.” Ryan replies.

“You weren’t affliated, you were part of the crew!” Jeremy’s stood up now, leaning into Ryan’s space, and he’s short but he’s terrifying, and there’s almost no way to escape him.

“And I don’t want to be!”

“Fuck you!” And Jeremy pounces, sends Ryan falling back over the table, banging his head on the floor beneath him as Jeremy sends short jabs into whatever parts of him he can reach. Ryan reluctantly has to try and grab him, throw him off, and when that fails roll and try to get him trapped instead. “Go fuck yourself, Ryan!”

“Jeremy, stop!”

“No!” Ryan bites through the pain, kicks Jeremy back and Jeremy grabs his wrist, drags Ryan up to his feet and stops. They’re both panting, shoulders bobbing up and down and the world stills for a long moment as Jeremy yanks Ryan down to get a better look at his arm. He pushes the sleeve up, eventually gives in and manhandles the hoodie off him. Ryan tries to fight but his heart isn’t in it. Never was. The hoodie is dropped to the floor and Ryan can’t look at Jeremy anymore. “I fucking knew it.”

Ryan looks back, confused to see the wide smirk on Jeremy’s face, Jeremy looks right back at him, “What?”

“You’re coming back to the penthouse.”

“What? No I’m not.” Ryan protests, but he’s already being dragged out the door, and it clicks locked behind him and Ryan’s pretty sure he left his keys in there. It doesn’t matter - Jeremy got in there somehow, but those are his keys.

“You are, ‘cause we’ve got to do something we never do.”

“And what is that?”

“Sit down and talk like adults.”

- - - - -

Describing the atmosphere as tense would be a lie and Ryan has never felt this awkward in his adult life. Or his child life. Or ever, in fact. In fact, it’s so tense, he feels slightly sick. Very sick. However, it doesn’t seem like a valid enough excuse to get out of this.

They’re sat in the heist room, with all six of their chairs all around the table. Ryan is sat at one of the heads, Geoff at the other, and it’s oddly exposing, being sat here. All five pairs of eyes watch him and he feels afraid to move. There’s still tiredness evident in all of them, Ryan knows he caused it. Someone’s tapping, and Ryan suspects it’s Gavin.

Jack speaks first, with a gentle voice, gentle words, “We understand why you did it.”

“Still a dick fucking move-”

“Michael!” Jack scolds, and he rolls his eyes, slumps back in his seat. She takes a breath. “We, we’re in a relationship, you know this.” Another pause, another breath. “Fuck, I-”

Geoff takes over in a heartbeat, “We make it work. We’ve made it work for a long time. And, if you’re willing, we’d like to make it work with you, too.” The question takes Ryan’s breath away.

“We’d really like to!” Gavin adds, “You’re cute and funny and a nerd, sometimes, and we all have the marks and so do you, so there’s no hiding it.”

“If you say no, we can return to normal.” Geoff says, “You can stay, or go, we won’t mind.”

“I will.” Michael shrugs. “What’s the fucking point in hiding, Ryan? You risk dying everyday, we risk dying everyday. Fucking live a little.” Ryan doesn’t remember ever seeing Michael this tired before, and he wonders how many pieces he’s actually left to pick up.

“You don’t have to choose now-” Jack tries to say, but Ryan interrupts her.

“I’d like to-” And this time Jeremy interrupts.

“But if you dare try and pull away from us, I’m not letting you just ‘have space’ this time.” And that confirms Ryan’s suspicions that they did know, they always knew. He shuts his eyes, sits back in the chair and taps his fingers on his knee.

“I’d like to.” He says, and there’s a pause before triumphant cheers, shouts, and Gavin leans over from his chair to hug Ryan awkwardly in the way only Gavin can be.

“Who are you going to kiss first?” Jeremy demands, stood up now and leaning forward on the table. Ryan opens his mouth but is immediately beaten to it.

“Me!” Gavin cries, holding his arms up and almost falling out the chair.

“I’m the boss so technically-”

“Fuck you, Geoff! Kiss me!” Michael’s stood up now too.

“Okay, boys, settle down.” Jack holds her hand up, and everyone returns to their seats with a bursting tension. He can see Gavin bouncing in his seat. “Ryan?”

“Um,” He pauses, raises his hand, “Eenie, meanie-”

“Oh fuck off!”

- - - - -

It’s less surprising now, when Ryan gets home - delivers his groceries to Ms. Kilson - only to find Jeremy lying on the sofa. He sticks his hand up when Ryan comes in, jumps to his feet. He’s already dressed in motorcycle gear, and Ryan guesses he won’t be getting that peaceful evening in, after all.

“We’re going to Chiliad.” Jeremy tells him, as he grabs his arm, spins Ryan around and leads him back to the outside world.

“Another celebration?” Ryan asks and Jeremy grins so wide Ryan’s slightly worried.

“Jack owes me money now.” He declares, clapping his hands, “It’s our anniversary of you joining the relationship.”

“It is?” Ryan asks. They keep track of things like that? Ryan always gets surprised by his own birthday.

“Yup! So we’re setting some fireworks off.”

“It’s noon, Jeremy.”

“Picnic first.”

Jack made the picnic, Gavin having helped and it’s delicious and there’s enough food in there to feed a family of four for days. There’s also enough fireworks to flatten a small house. And a few things that are just straight up bombs that Michael managed to sneak in anyway. The sun sets almost unnoticed, except for when Ryan can tear his eyes from his lovers to look at it. The wonders of nature hardly compare to the five people around him. They’d probably laugh if they heard him say that.

Gavin calls to him, sat on the edge of the cliff whilst Geoff and Michael go to set up the fireworks (which is a Bad Idea but oh well.) The duo are joined by Jack and Jeremy, and the four lean on each other, arms wrapped around backs and breathing in sync with the world.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Ryan asks, and there’s just a hum in response and those are the only words shared between them. The first firework surprises all four of them, accompanied by Geoff and Michael’s shouts and a barely distinct, ‘we didn’t mean to set that one off!’ He laughs, they all do, shake their heads. Next time, a ‘whoo’ marks the firework. It sparkles in the air above them, Ryan drops his head on Gavin’s shoulders.

It could be a metaphor, fireworks. How they burst so brightly, a shot of light against a black sky that fizzles and glitters but fades. And maybe it was before - before all this. Maybe an LED would more suitable, and Ryan almost catches himself laughing at the thought. Jeremy uses his finger to follow one of them on their path, bursting out with it. A heart, Ryan realises, and he smiles.

“That’s corny.” Gavin comments, and Jeremy hums in agreement. Jack’s just smiling. There are sparkles in their eyes, coloured lights highlighting their bodies, and yeah. Maybe it is all a bit corny.

James turned his head towards his friend and smiled brightly, hanging up one of the stockings, Elyse’s, before coming down off the step stool and practically stalking over, hips swaying and eyes on the prize.

  “Hey, come help me hang up the rest of the stockings, Brucey,” James suggested, taking his hand. He led Bruce to the stool and had him stand behind him, handing him stockings. A good view of his ass, if you were to ask Bruce.

  “This isn’t helping that much, but I’m not complaining. I get to look at your ass all morning.” James turned his head and raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Yeah? Does it look good?” Bruce felt his cheeks heating up a little. He knew what he wanted to say, but should he? With James and Elyse being already together, and Bruce really liked James.. Maybe Elyse too.. They were both so pretty and perfect for each other.. Could he fit in their already perfect equation? “Hello, Bruce? I asked a question, dude. Or are you too busy staring?” He smirked at him, eyes narrowing as if he had his mind made up already.

  “Uh.. I guess so.”

  “You guess you’re busy staring, or guess it looks good?” James had that evil little glimmer in his eyes that Bruce wanted to smack, or kiss, right off of him. It was almost infuriating.

  “I guess it looks good! I mean- Jesus, James, your ass looks fine, can we finish this now?” Bruce looked like he was ready to explode, bright red in the face and cheeks all puffed up.

  “Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a twist, Brucey.” James giggled a little at Bruce’s reaction, putting up the remaining stockings that Bruce handed him. He stepped down from the step stool after, taking Bruce’s hand and leading him away from the main room.

  James tugged Bruce’s arm and pulled him close, wrapping his arms around his waist and smiling down at him.

  “What’re you doin’?” Bruce didn’t sound so offended, only curious.

  “What’s it look like?” He leaned down and pressed his lips against Bruce’s in a short, soft kiss.

  Bruce was taken by surprise, did the other man like him just as much, or was he just doing it to get his way? James had a way of getting what he wanted.

  James had the muscles that Bruce loved and wanted wrapped around him all the time, even though he couldn’t have that. Bruce pulled away after a second. “James, what about Elyse?”

  “What about her? She knows I like you. She likes you too.” He shrugged, a smile gracing his lips, his pretty blue eyes bright.

  “Shit.. So, what does this mean?” Bruce tipped his head to the side. “Uh, I mean, do you want to be with us? I can get Elyse to come over here to confirm she’s okay with it if you want.”

  “Yeah.. But, like, I’m not opposed to it! I just, want to make sure she’s not gonna think you’re cheating..” Bruce didn’t want that at all. He loved Elyse just as much, she was James, but a woman, they were just perfect for each other.

  He smiled and kissed Bruce’s cheek before heading out, leaving Bruce to his thoughts.

  Did James really think that? Did Elyse really like him too? Is he going to have a relationship with them? He certainly wanted it. He didn’t really like being single, but never really had the motivation to get out and date. This would be easier. A date within the workspace.

  James came back after a moment with Elyse, donning a Santa hat and a soft smile, it seemed as though he had already told her.

  She came over and wrapped her arms around him, smiling brighter, “It would be lovely to have you in our relationship, Bruce, you’re so sweet to us..”

  He smiled a little more, “I think I can accept that.. Shall we go spread a little holiday cheer? Share a beer?”

  She kissed him softly, and he moved his arms around her waist, James coming around them to wrap his big strong arms around the both of them.

  They left the office with big smiles and hands intertwined, and they moved somewhere a little less work and a little more play. No matter how fun their job could be, it was still a job. They needed a break at some point. The Willems’ house seemed like the perfect place too.

  Bruce was quickly settled down into the couch and a cold glass of beer was pressed into his hand as the other two bustled around the house, that was neatly decorated for Christmas, and he waited for them. When they came back, they settled on either side of him, and he felt comfortable there.

  They clinked their glasses in a cheers and giggled as they took a sip, leaning into each other’s embraces. From the other room came a jingling sound, a faintly familiar noise. Bruce squinted to try and figure it out before Benson, dressed in an elf costume, came trotting out of the kitchen, and sat at his feet, tail wagging.

Though Jeremy felt this way, it usually didn’t matter much once they began to talk with him, which consisted of blatant bullying and harassment nearly all the time. After that, he always folded and ended up following them to whatever stupid thing that they had planned for that evening, mentally berating himself the entire time for being as weak as they said that he was.

Afterall, why would they lie to him?

“So what’ll it be, Jerr? Are you gonna listen to us when we say that you’ll have a fuckin’ awesome time and come with us, or are you going to be the weak child that you always are and throw a fit about going, even though you know that it’s always fun,” his friend, Chase, demanded. His voice was taunting, and Jeremy knew the implied bullying and harassment that he would experience if he declined.

“Y-yeah, of course I’m going!” Jeremy forces out, the fake smile on his face more resembling a grimace. “Why wouldn’t I go? It’s always fun…sneaking into clubs and bars…breaking the law…” Jeremy’s voice faded away as he continued to speak, but the others didn’t pay any mind to him after he announced that he was indeed going.

“Fuck yeah, bros!” Chase yelled, and the other three guys in their circle of “friends” whooped in response. They all high-fived one another, all ignoring Jeremy as if he had become invisible. Sometimes, he wished he could be invisible. Maybe then they could leave him alone, along with the rest of their stupid school and other people around Los Santos that felt the need to be mean-spirited for no other reason than a quick laugh at Jeremy’s expense.

“Alright, let’s go guys, we want to get there for the prime club scene time. Everyone have their fake ID’s? I feel like getting trashed tonight, I don’t know about you guys,” Chase chanted, a smug smirk tugging at his lips. All of his friends cheered along with him, a chorus of ‘fuck yeah’ and ‘damn right’. Jeremy simply just sighed and turned his eyes towards the floor, listening to how it sounded as his sneaker scraped the concrete sidewalk of downtown Los Santos.

After quite a few moments of mindless babble and pointless loud whooping, Chase began to lead the pack of his friends in the direction of a local club located just outside of the large downtown center of the city. It was around 10 PM, Jeremy noted as he clicked a button on his slider phone. The sky was dark around them as they walked down the street, street lights and the occasional neon sign illuminating the air around them as they continued onwards.

As they all walked, in a pack as always, Jeremy lagged behind, watching from a distance as his friends joked and laughed with one another, fighting back the tears that he could feel coming on because of the all too familiar sting in his eyes. He wouldn’t cry, not again, not in front of Chase and his group; that was just more fuel to add to the fire that always burned him when it came to them. They always had something to insult him about, and the last thing that he needed was to add to their reserve.

Before he knew it, they were arriving at the club which Jeremy didn’t recognize, to his surprise. The line was already beginning to form outside of the clubs front doors, and Jeremy realized too late that his group had stopped at the end of the line, and he ended up slamming into Chase’s back. Jeremy stumbled backwards, partially out of shock and the other out of a degree of fear. He wasted no time whirling around to glare at Jeremy, eyes full of anger.

“What the fuck, Dooley?” Chase snarled, and the other guys turned to watch the confrontation, just as they always did.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” Jeremy blurted out, terror in his voice. “I swear, I just didn’t see that we stopped walking! I got distracted-”

“Shut the fuck up, Jerr. Watch where you’re going, and don’t be a clueless dumbass like you always are. Be someone other than who you are, that’s my personal recommendation. Maybe that’ll keep me from smashing my fist into your nose like last time,” he barked, and Jeremy flinched, his hand flying up and touching his nose subconsciously as the vivid memories of the ‘last time’ playing through his mind.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Chase smirked, and turned back towards his friends who all began laughing together. Jeremy sighed as his eyes began to water, but he wiped a strong hand over both of his eyes, effectively removing the tears from visibility. Even though the tears were gone, Jeremy still hated the hurt that he felt in his chest. That could never be solved, as it had become clear to him over the years.

Eventually, they made their way up to the club entrance where a large bouncer stood, checking ID’s. Jeremy smiled to himself slightly, relieved that there was a bouncer at this club. Sure, Chase and his other crew had their fake ID’s, and they had made one for Jeremy too at one point, but Jeremy had shredded it as soon as he got it. He had no interest in doing anything with a fake, he didn’t care too much for drinking, especially when it was with Chase and his crowd.

All of them gladly showed their false ID’s to the bouncer, and he simply just nodded and sent them in. When he got to Jeremy, Jeremy showed his regular ID, clearly displaying his birthday and the red lettering that wrote that he was underage. He knew the bouncer was smart enough to do the mental math and realize that Jeremy was only 18, clearly under the legal US drinking age.

Just as he had expected, the bouncer looked at his ID and back up at Jeremy, who had a pleading look in his eyes. Please send me away, Jeremy chanted over and over in his head, a silent prayer to the man stood in front of him.

“You’re underage, I can’t let you in,” The man explained to Jeremy, handing his license back with a shake of his head. Jeremy cheered inside his mind, but put on a fake frown to deter Chase from knowing that he really didn’t want to be here.

“Oh, shit, I had no idea,” Jeremy lied, trying to not sound happy in the slightest bit. Behind him, people who were waiting to enter the club began to grow impatient, grumbling at Jeremy to get out of line so that they could commence their night of drinking. Jeremy shrugged his shoulders in mock disappointment, muttering a quick thank you under his breath as he turned around to begin walking home. But just as he was walking away, he heard Chase’s voice.

“Wait up Jerr!” He called out, and Jeremy spun around just in time to watch as he pulled a one hundred dollar bill from his wallet and not so discreetly passed it to the bouncer. The bouncer looked at the money, and within a matter of seconds he was stepping aside and ushering Jeremy in. As he was pushed along, through the black door of the nightclub, his heart sank into his stomach and he began to feel ill.

“Alright, now that we’ve got all the boys together, let’s go get started with some drinks, shall we?” Chase asked the crowd, and all of them whooped and set off for the bar. Chase began walking with them, not taking any time to glance at Jeremy to see if he was coming or not. Jeremy knew he didn’t actually give a shit about him, and in a way it was quite relieving to watch him walk away.

“Nah, I think i’ll pass, I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick. I’ll catch up with you guys later, though,” Jeremy said to no one, the sarcasm dripping from each word. He rolled his eyes and sighed, glancing around before he saw the very sketchy looking restroom. He made his way over to it, having to push past several people in the process, but once he was inside he sighed with relief. He made his way to a stall, pushing it open and thanking the lord that he didn’t run into anyone performing any sort of sexual activities. It sure as hell wouldn’t have been the first time.

He closed the door behind him, sliding the lock of the metal door before he sat on the seat of the toilet. He still had his pants on, and as he sat he placed his head in his hands. He took a deep breath, attempting to calm his stomach that had been riled up due to his intense anxiety.

Jeremy remained in the stall for around ten minutes, breathing deeply and counting in his mind. Eventually he felt mildly better, as good as he was going to get given the situation, and he stood up to make his way out of the stall.

As he walked out he walked straight towards the sinks, scrubbing his hands together furiously to clean them. He scrubbed for awhile, and he looked up at the mirror while he did so. Next to him, he noticed the man standing at the counter, dark circles under his eyes, but his green eyes still shone nonetheless. He stared at himself intently in the mirror, never breaking eye contact with himself- he appeared to be incredibly focused on something, and that something was what Jeremy couldn’t decipher.

He barely noticed that he had been staring at the man, and he never became fully aware of it until the man glanced at him in the mirror briefly before turning on his heel and walking out. Jeremy shook himself out of whatever trance he had been in, drying his hands on his jeans before walking out. He decided that he would go ahead and walk towards the bar and lounge area, concluding that it would be the lesser of two evils in the club. It was either the lounge or the dance floor, and Jeremy was not a fan of dancing, especially not right now. So, he headed off towards the neon sign that read “Lounge and Bar”.

Once he had entered the area, which was slightly quieter than the dance floor, but not by much, he scoured the area for a good spot to sit for a few hours while playing around on his phone, given that he wasn’t going to drink, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to dance. He needed to dance with people, and Jeremy had no desire to seek Chase out at all.

In the corner, he spotted a tall round cocktail table, and he quickly made his way over to it. A cocktail waitress came around to him, offering him a drink menu, but he politely declined and just ordered a water instead. She nodded and set off back to the bar to retrieve the water, leaving Jeremy alone once again.

As he sat, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his slider phone, checking it for texts quickly before opening up one of the very few games that he had on it. He elected to play bejeweled, deciding that it would pass the time the quickest. Though, he underestimated his own attention span, and after only 45 minutes he closed his phone and slid it back into his pocket.

From the table that he was sat at, he could see out onto the dancefloor, and Jeremy sipped on his water as he watched all the people on the dancefloor move with the beat of the music. He scanned the crowd with his eyes, snorting when he saw Chase and his group bouncing up and down on the dancefloor, very evidently already completely shitfaced. The already couldn’t dance for shit, that Jeremy knew, but this was a whole new level of bad. He kept his eyes on them for a few moments, enjoying the horrid sight, but he removed his eyes from them as another person caught his eye.

Walking across the dancefloor tentatively and cautiously, eyes focused intently on all the people around him, was the emerald-eyed man from the restroom earlier. To Jeremy, he appeared to be looking for something, but he couldn’t be sure what it could be. Though, he was intrigued once again, so he sat and watched the man from afar, curious about what he was going to do. It was pretty clear that he wasn’t there to dance, if his tight and stiff demeanor told Jeremy anything.

Within seconds, Jeremy observed as the man began to dance, though he was clearly not into it at all. He was just bobbing up and down to the music, occasionally swaying or raising his arms slightly to mix it up. Dancing appeared to be a complete afterthought, and Jeremy watched the man as he moved, and he attempted to follow the man’s gaze to see what he was so focused on. Though, his curiosity was satiated as he watched the stranger move close to a few people on the dance floor, quickly reaching into their back pockets and removing their wallets before swiftly removing all the cash before replacing the wallet back to where it had come from. Jeremy was amazed that nobody even realized the theft that was happening, and he watched as the man just walked to another part of the dancefloor before repeating the same thing once again.

Just as Jeremy was about to alert someone to the blatant robbery happening, he heard Chase’s voice from across the dancefloor and all the way into the bar.

“Dooley! Come the fuck out here, dance with us you pussy!” He yelled, slightly slurring his words. Jeremy panicked and looked around, but felt a wave of relief wash over him as he noticed that there was nobody watching him. As he sat at his stool and contemplated, Chase was clearly becoming impatient and irate with each passing second, so Jeremy decided that it would save him a lot of pain in the future if he just obliged to his drunkass whims.

He made his way to the dancefloor tentatively, hyper aware of all the people around him; he wasn’t the best with large crowds, never had been. The only thing that made the situation worse was that he knew that Chase knew Jeremy couldn’t handle crowds. Yet, here they stood anyways, Chase being drunk, as usual, and Jeremy, panicking as usual.

Once he finally reached Chase, he was yanked in by all of the guys, forced into the middle of their group and he felt his eyes began to sting and his heart began to beat faster as his anxiety rose. Though, he went along with it, telling himself over and over in his mind that this was for the best, or else he’d certainly end up in the alley behind the club with another black eye and a bloody nose. So, he kept on dancing.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom, stay here and have a good time, yeah guys?” Chase announced over the booming of the music, and all the guys nodded in response to him before choosing to run off to a different area of the club, leaving without saying a word to Jeremy. Though, he didn’t mind at all, and took the event as an opportunity to escape. Jeremy quickly ducked around all of the dancing forms of people around him, muttering the occasional “excuse me” as he bumped into them, even though he knew that they didn’t really care. They spent all night grinding on one another anyways, so a small bump was nothing in terms of their night.

Eventually Jeremy made his way back over to the bar area, but was very disappointed when he saw that his prime cocktail table had been stolen. He looked around and saw no other tables available, only a few random seats around the bar. With a sigh, he walked towards an empty seat at the farthest end of the bar, calling the bartender over with a wave of his hand. Once the man approached him, Jeremy ordered a RedBull and pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, ready to lay down cash and tip as soon as the man returned with his drink.

However, once he opened his wallet, he noticed that there was no cash in it. He spun around in his stool, anger in his eyes as he scoured the room for one man in particular. As soon has he made a 180 degree turn in his barstool, he laid eyes on the man. He was sat at a cocktail table with a beer in his hand, scrolling on his smartphone idly. Jeremy growled, getting up from his seat and stomping towards the stranger, too focused on what he was going to say to the bastard to hear the bartender screaming after him as he walked away.

Though, it didn’t matter to him as he reached the table, slamming his hands down onto it in order to grab the man’s attention.

“Bloody hell!” The man exclaimed in an English accent, dropping his phone down onto the table out of shock. He glanced up at Jeremy, eyes softening for a moment before he narrowed them again, clearly showing no signs of backing down or having a civil chat. “What the hell was that for?”

“Someone took all my cash from my wallet-”

“Well that sucks for you, but I don’t know why you’re telling me this. So, if you don’t mind, could you please leave and talk to someone who gives a rats arse?”

“No, I won’t, because you’re gonna fucking listen to me,” Jeremy swore, and the man’s eyes widened at his harsh tone. “All my cash is missing from my wallet, even though I know for a fact that I came into this shitty club with 32 dollars exactly. I had one ten dollar bill, four fives, and two ones. Sound familiar?”

“Why are you telling me about your money?” The stranger exclaimed, emerald eyes confused, “I don’t care about your sodding money, Jeremy, so just leave me alone.”

Jeremy opened his mouth to continue the argument, but he shut it quickly in shock.

“How…how do you know my name?”

“N-no reason! I heard your friends scream your name earlier, is all…yeah.”

Jeremy raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“They haven’t said my name in here. They never do, honestly, it’s always insults or nicknames,” Jeremy tells the green eyed man. “So how do you actually know my name?”

The man was silent for a moment, eyes staring down into his pint glass of beer, watching the foam inside the glass as if it would tell him his life’s secrets. Eventually, he just sighed, realizing that Jeremy wasn’t going to give up anytime soon.

“I just…” He started to say, but his voice faded off as it wavered slightly. He turned his eyes back to his beer, and Jeremy just let out a deep breath.

“Did you take my wallet while I was on the dancefloor?” Jeremy asked the man, his voice as level and calm as he could make it, given the strange and intense circumstances.

“No, I didn’t take it-”

“Let me rephrase, did you open it, take my cash, and put it back in my pocket?”

He remained silent briefly, before just nodding.

‘I’m sorry, Jeremy,” He said earnestly. “I can give you the cash back.”

Jeremy exhaled, remaining silent for a minute while he gathered his thoughts.

“Nah, keep it. I don’t really care.”

The stranger’s eyes grew wide, making the green in his eyes shine even more than it had in the restroom earlier that evening.

“Are you sure? I can give it back-”

“I’m sure,” Jeremy insisted. “But, the least you can do is buy me a drink.”

“Oh- of course! What do you want?”

“I guess just a soda is fine by me, I’m usually a water guy when I go out,” Jeremy told him, trying to ignore the shock at where this casualty and charisma came from. It was extremely out of character, given that Jeremy trusted no one always. Though, for some reason, this man was easy to talk to, and he wasn’t too sure how he was supposed to feel about that.

“Nah, i’m gonna buy you a beer,” the man says, smiling as he flagged down a waitress.

“What?” Jeremy questioned, shocked. “I can’t even legally-”

“I know you aren’t 21, Jeremy. That’s why I’m buying this for you.”

Jeremy remained stood next to the table in astonished silence, staring at the stranger as he spoke with the cocktail waitress.

“Can we get a beer here for my friend? It’s on me,” He tells the waitress as she approaches, and she nods as he flashes his ID to her. After she has the order written on her notepad, she walked away, casting a gaze over to Jeremy as she left.

“Close your mouth, Jeremy, you’ll catch flies,” Gavin jokes, reaching over and using his hand to shut Jeremy’s mouth. Jeremy allowed him to do it, smiling and laughing slightly at his stupid joke. The stranger gestures to the chair directly across from him at the cocktail table with his hand, and said “Go ahead, take a seat. We’ll be here for awhile.”

He simply just nodded and climbed up onto the chair, and the man smiled at him from across the table.

“So, I’m guessing you have a fake ID then?” Jeremy questions, leaning forward in his chair slightly.

“What? No, why would I need a fake ID?” The man asks, confused.

“Because you’re clearly not 21. You have baby face,” Jeremy discloses, and the stranger lets out an offended squawk of some kind while using his hands to cover up his cheeks.

“I do not!” He yelped, and Jeremy laughed. “Jeremy, I am actually 21, Jeremy!”

“Okay, okay, whatever you say,” Jeremy concludes, chuckling to himself. He jumped slightly as the waitress returned to the table with his beer, shocked by her appearance. For some reason, when he was talking to this man, he couldn’t do anything but; he was just so interesting, in all the weirdest ways.

“If you’re actually 21, let me see your ID,” Jeremy stated, and the stranger slid his ID across the table with one finger as he took a sip from his beer. Jeremy looked over the card, and hummed before passing it back.

“Gavin, huh?” Jeremy mentioned, and the man raised his eyebrows and nodded his head as he continued to drink from his pint glass. “That’s a good name. It fits you, I like it.”

“Thank you, Jeremy. I think your name fits you too,” Gavin told him, and Jeremy just smiled before sipping from his glass as well.

The two of them sat, both staring at each other, stupid grins on their face. However, the nice and serene moment was interrupted as Jeremy heard loud yelling coming from the dance floor as a group of people formed a dance circle. Jeremy wasn’t particularly fond of loud noises, and the man, Gavin, must have noticed that since he slapped the money down on the table before he stood up, gesturing for Jeremy to follow him. He was hesitant at first, not too keen on following a complete stranger around a nightclub, but eventually he got over it and grabbed his beer from the table and set off in the direction that Gavin had disappeared off to.

Eventually Jeremy spotted Gavin leaning up against a grimy wall near a large door. Jeremy watched as Gavin gestured for him to follow with a nod of his head, and as Jeremy approached where he was stood, Gavin muttered a quick apology. Before Jeremy had the chance to ask why, Gavin had him pressed up against the metal door, and he used his free hand that wasn’t clutching his beer to shove the handle open, allowing them to stumble backwards into a concrete stairwell.

Once Jeremy’s back hit the cement wall behind him all the way inside the room, Gavin pulled back with an awkward chuckle as he rubbed his free hand on his neck in embarrassment.

“Sorry about that, had to make it look believable for us to get in here,” Gavin apologized again, and Jeremy just nods.

“Yeah, I understand that. But where exactly are we going anyways?” Jeremy inquired, and watched as Gavin gestured up the concrete stairs before beginning to climb them. Jeremy set off after him, and once they reached the top, he found himself stood atop the roof of the club, 5 stories high.

“You didn’t seem to like the noise too much, and I knew it was way quieter up here,” Gavin explained to Jeremy as he walked over to the side of the roof, sitting down and dangling his feet over the edge. Jeremy remained where he was for a moment, debating whether or not to follow the guy, but he eventually resigned and decided that it wasn’t that big of a deal. Besides, there was a plus side to all of this- he didn’t have to be anywhere near Chase for the time being. Jeremy took it as a silent blessing and walked over to where Gavin was sat and he mirrored his position exactly before taking a sip of his beer.

“So, Jeremy?” Gavin begins, and Jeremy hums into his beer in acknowledgement.

“If you’re underage, why did you even come to this club? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know you shouldn’t judge a book by it’s cover or something like that, but to me it didn’t seem like you were ever really having a good time.”

Jeremy nodded in response.

“Yeah, it wasn’t my idea to come here,” he admitted, “it was my stupid friend Chase’s idea to come out with the boys or whatever the fuck to get hammered and hopefully drag some unlucky girl home.” Gavin squeaked out a laugh at that which made Jeremy smile as well, despite the fact that his mood was still slightly sour from the way that the whole evening had gone. Though, for some reason that Jeremy couldn’t quite put his finger on, being around the stranger made his night start to seem a little less horrible.

“So if you didn’t want to come, then why did you?” Gavin asked, and Jeremy sighed.

“I only came here because I knew that if i didn’t, I’d be getting beat to shit by Chase and his fuck bros when I get back to school on Monday. They think I’m weak, and they’re constantly telling me to ‘man up’ or to ‘stop being a bitch’. So at this point I’ve just figured that it’s easier on me if I just do something that I don’t want to do rather than not doing it and getting beaten in public,” Jeremy explained, and Gavin frowned.

“You should be able to do whatever you want to do, not what they want you to do,” Gavin pointed out, and Jeremy nodded again.

“I know I should have that choice, but I just don’t. They’re so horrible, Gav, you have no idea.”

“Punch ‘em in the dickhole, then. That shit hurts mega badly, man,” Gavin said, and Jeremy grinned at him.

“I’ll keep that plan in mind for the future,” Jeremy joked before taking a sip of his beer.

Once Jeremy had let his guard down more, he and Gavin hit it off wonderfully, and they spent the next three hours talking about anything and everything that they could think of that a person would need to know when they’ve met a new person. They talked about favorite colors, video games, foods, drinks, desserts- everything. They were in the middle of laughing at a stupid joke that Gavin had made when Jeremy froze.

Below him, coming out - more like stumbling out - of the club doors was Chase and his crew, all looking wasted beyond belief. They all staggered together out towards Chase’s car, talking extremely loudly to one another about something that Jeremy couldn’t care less about.

“Hey Chase,” One of the boys called out, and Chase spun around to face him, almost falling directly on his ass in the process.

“W-what the fuck do you want?” Chase snapped, but everyone remained calm and collected, having grown used to his loud outbursts.

“I feel like we’re fo-forgetting something?”

“If we didn’t walk out with it then it’s not important to us in the least,” Chase announced, and Jeremy felt as though his heart has just plunged out of his chest.

“Wow, those guys are real pricks,” Gavin muttered, and Jeremy just nodded in an attempt to hold back his tears that were threatening to spill over once again.

“Oh well, good riddance I’m guessing. I can take you home now if you want,” Gavin offered, and Jeremy raised one eyebrow in confusion.

“If you’re pickpocketing for money, why do you have a car?” Jeremy asked him, and Gavin’s eyes shone with amusement.

“Well, it’s certainly not a car, Jeremy, it’s a motorbike, and a dirty sanchez at that,” Gavin explained, and Jeremy just rolled his eyes.

“Did you buy it or steal it?”

“Well, technically I didn’t steal it-”

“It’s a yes or no question, stupid,” Jeremy told him, a slightly amused smile threatening to break out on his face.

“I did take it, yeah,” Gavin admitted, and just as Jeremy was about to say something, Gavin interrupted him. “It wasn’t being used though! It was being ready to be turned into scrap metal. So, instead of letting it die, I took it ad invested some savings to make it driveable. I’d say it all worked out according to plan.”

“Okay, Gav, whatever you say.”

Gavin stood up and stretched, his back popping in the process. Once he had finished stretching, he extended a hand out to Jeremy in order to help him stand up from the rooftop. Jeremy took it quickly, mumbling a ‘thank you’ under his breath as he stood. The two of them made their way downstairs back into the main club area, set their now empty glasses on the bar top before walking out the main doors.

“So where do you live?” Gavin questioned.

“Down in the shadier part of LS,” Jeremy answered before reading off the actual address. He watched as Gavin put it into his phone’s navigation. Gavin hopped onto the bike first before extending an arm to help Jeremy get sat directly behind him. Gavin pressed his foot to the clutch and the bike roared to life, it’s loud engine echoing off the walls of the concrete buildings around them.

“You’re gonna want to hold on,” Gavin informed, and Jeremy fumbled with his hands before he eventually wrapped them around Gavin’s waist. Once he was secure, Gavin slammed on the accelerator and off they went, speeding through the city without a care in the world. Eventually they pulled up in front of Jeremy’s apartment complex and Jeremy swung his leg over the bike and hopped off easily.

“You should give me your number, Jeremy, we can text and possibly hang out again?” Gavin said, the end forming as a question.

“Yeah, sure, here’s my number,” Jeremy smiled and opened his phone, showing Gavin the number. Once he had it in his phone, Gavin sent a swift text to Jeremy, and he programed the number into his phone as soon as it came in.

“I’ll see you around, Jeremy?”

“Yeah, for sure. Thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it.”

Gavin smiled and waved his hand in dismissal as he revved his engine.

“See you, Lil’ J!” Gavin exclaimed as he rode off, down the quiet streets of Los Santos.

Jeremy smiled to himself and cheered internally; the first day he had met Gavin Free, he had given Jeremy a nickname and Jeremy didn’t completely fall apart.

Jeremy took that as progress.

Day two had quite the strange beginning.

Jeremy found himself staring up at the ceiling, mind wandering to all kinds of different topics. The thoughts started out happy, though eventually they wandered into a darker territory, and suddenly Jeremy’s chest was aching with anxiety. He hadn’t thought about Chase and his ragtag group of assholes since the previous night, given that Gavin had provided an excellent distraction from the mental torture Jeremy subjected himself to every day. However, Gavin wasn’t here now to stop the thoughts from coming, so the only choice that Jeremy had was to roll with whatever came and hope that it didn’t end up badly.

He quickly grabbed his phone off of his bedside table, sliding it open before opening up his and Gavin’s brief conversation thread from the night before. He smiled as he read the final text Gavin had sent to him before he had fallen asleep before clicking a button to begin a new message.

Hey, are you busy right now?

Jeremy kept his phone open for a few minutes, staring at the small illuminated screen and wishing for a reply to come through. Though, after 5 minutes of no reply, he sighed and slid it closed again, returning it back to the table where it sat most of the day. He hoped that by some stroke of a miracle that Gavin had nothing to do today, given that it was a Sunday, but he wasn’t too certain about how Gavin’s daily life went. For all Jeremy knew, he could have very important family plans or something else important along those lines. If that was the case, Jeremy didn’t want to bother him or hinder him from doing anything that he needed to get done.

He puffed out a breath as he continued to stare at the white ceiling, his gaze tracing the lines of light on the ceiling created by his blinds. Slowly, he felt as his thoughts drifted to happy thoughts of Gavin to darker and more dreadful thoughts of Chase.

He knew for a fact that Chase wouldn’t be happy with him when he saw him at school tomorrow, and Jeremy knew that no matter how hard he tried to hide, they would eventually find him anyways, so the ending was always inevitable. Even though Chase had been completely hammered the night before, Jeremy was certain that he’d remember that he had brought Jeremy along with him to the club and would be quite angry when he awoke this morning, seeing as Jeremy was nowhere to be found, or he would grow angry when one of the other idiots informed him that they didn’t recall seeing Jeremy the night before. Then, of course, Chase would devise his plan to get revenge on Jeremy for being the weak spineless idiot he was, as they never hesitated to inform him, and Jeremy would end up on the ground, some part of him bleeding and another part of him bruising, along with the feeling of his heart shattering in his chest.

As his thoughts wandered to what Chase could have planned for him tomorrow when he returned, his heart rate quickened and he found it hard to breathe, feeling the beginnings of a panic attack coming on. He hated these, especially when he still hadn’t quite mastered how to fend them off once they had started.

However, he was yanked from his thoughts as he heard a loud yell come from the alley directly outside his window. Normally, he wouldn’t concern himself with such noises, but this one intrigued him and piqued his curiosity. He had never heard a noise as strange as that one before.

Jeremy quickly sat up, threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching briefly before making his way over to his window. He pulled the cord to pull his blinds up before opening the heavy glass window, then carefully crawled out of the now agape glass. He walked across the dark metal of the fire escape and looked over the edge of the fence, smiling once he did so.

“What the fuck kind of noise was that?” Jeremy asked loudly, his voice projecting down into the alley 3 floors below him.

“It was my bird noise, didn’t you like it Lil’ J?” Gavin questions, a huge grin on his face as he stared up at Jeremy from where he was stood in the alley.

“It was definitely strange, i’ll give you that,” Jeremy laughed, his smile growing as he watched Gavin below him. “What are you doing here?”

“I was bored, thought maybe you’d want to come hang out with me? Spend the day wasting time away as we do nothing significant,” Gavin explained, and Jeremy continued to smile. He nodded his head and Gavin laughed in response.

“Give me a minute, I’ll be right down!” Jeremy called out to him before crawling back inside his window to grab his shoes from off of his cluttered bedroom floor. Once he had them on and tied tightly, he made his way back out the window, turning around once outside to close it until only a crack remained open. As soon as he was satisfied, he began descending the stairs of the rickety fire escape, each footstep resulting in a loud creak! Eventually he made it down to the last level of the fire escape, where the stairs ended and the ladder began. He carefully lowered himself onto the ladder before dropping down a few feet onto the dirty pavement of the alley.

As he recovered from his drop, standing back up from where he had landed in a crouched position, he was met face to face with a smiling Gavin.

“Nice drop, Lil’ J.”

Jeremy laughed in response, returning Gavin’s smile.

“Thanks, Gav.”

The two of them walked close to one another as they set off towards Gavin’s sanchez that was parked on the street, the bike’s kickstand barely holding it upright. The two of them climbed on with ease, Jeremy leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Gavin’s small waist. Gavin turned around and shot Jeremy a grin before he kicked up the kickstand and revved the engine, jolting to a start that sent them racing down the road.

“So what are we doing?” Jeremy asked him, leaning in close to his ear and speaking loudly in order to be heard over the bike’s loud engine.

“Just trust me, it’s a surprise. It’ll be fun though!” He called out in response before slamming on the accelerator, sending them soaring down the road. Eventually, Gavin made his way to the highway by the beach, speeding and weaving around cars expertly as he made his way northbound along the coast.

Jeremy smiled in fascination as he watched the scenery change from a beachy terrain to a steeply sloped one, large pine trees growing all over large mountains. They rode over a large bridge that went over a river, before darting into a tunnel that went underneath the military base. Jeremy was amazed as he looked back at the base once they had exited the tunnel, eyes wandering and looking at all of the jets that they had. Man, what he wouldn’t do to someday fly one of those, he thought to himself.

After around ten more minutes of driving, eventually they reached a small parking lot at the base of a very large mountain. Jeremy had never been this far out of the city before, given that he had no means of transportation, so his eyes were wide as he looked around him, smiling as he took in all of the greenery and elevated hills that he could see.

“Where are we, Gav?” Jeremy asked, turning to face an excited Brit, who was beaming at Jeremy.

“Haven’t you ever heard of Mount Chiliad, Jeremy?” He questioned back with a laugh.

“Well, yeah… but I’ve never been out here before!” Jeremy exclaimed in response, still amazed at the surroundings. He couldn’t stop his eyes from looking all around him, just enjoying the fact that he was finally able to see something different than just the dirty concrete of downtown Los Santos for once.

“C’mon,” Gavin said, gesturing for Jeremy to follow him with a wave of his arm. “Let’s go up to the top, shall we?”

“How are we gonna get up there?” Jeremy asked, and Gavin laughed at his confusion.

“There’s a tram that goes all the way up to the top. Let’s go buy tickets and get in line.”

“Oh, yeah. That makes sense,” Jeremy realized, his voice growing soft with his embarrassment. Though, Gavin made no comment, just laughed as Jeremy ran to catch up with him, the two falling into step side by side. After around 20 minutes, they found themselves standing on the tram, Jeremy’s eyes practically popping out of his head as he got an aerial view of all of the stunning landscape. Gavin was stood next to him, watching the scenery along with him, but occasionally looking away to sneak some glances at the fascinated Jeremy next to him. Each time he looked over, he would smile and laugh a little, admiring the excitement of his friend.

Once they finally reached the top, Gavin walked with Jeremy in tow over to a rickety looking wooden platform, sitting on the edge with his legs dangling off the side. It looked horribly dangerous, Jeremy thought, but he trusted Gavin and took a seat right next to him, mirroring his exact position and posture.

“This is…” Jeremy began, searching his mind for the perfect word.

“Enchanting” Gavin finished for him, and the two of them laughed together, Gavin squeaking a few times as he laughed, which just made Jeremy laugh even harder.

“Only you would use the word enchanting, Gav, I swear,” Jeremy told him, his voice very fond. In response, Gavin squawked which only made Jeremy laugh harder.

“What?” He exclaimed, clearly taken aback. “Jeremy, it’s an actual word, Jeremy!”

“I know it is, dumbass, no one uses it anymore!”

Gavin pouted, his lower lip jutting out with his feigned sadness. Jeremy just shook his head, chuckling as he did so.

“It’s even more beautiful at night,” Gavin told Jeremy, and Jeremy just hummed in response.

“Really? It sucks that we won’t be up here to see it.”

However, Jeremy found himself shocked, when hours later after the two of them had been sat talking, the sun had completely set without him noticing, and he sat staring directly up at the starry night sky, amazed at how many stars littered the dark atmosphere above him.

“Holy shit,” Jeremy breathed out in awe, laying on his back in order to look at the sky without hurting his neck. Gavin did the same, laying onto his back and staring up into the darkness with Jeremy.

“Isn’t it enchanting?” Gavin asked with a shit eating grin on his face, and Jeremy reached over and shoved his arm.

“Shut the fuck up, Gav.” He swore at him, nothing but affection in his voice. Gavin chuckled in response, the air around them going silent for a few moments.

“Hey, Lil’ J?” Gavin asked, and Jeremy hummed in response. “What do you see in the stars?”

“Well,” Jeremy began, thinking deeply while his eyes gazed upon the sky. They stayed there for hours, pointing up at the sky, talking and laughing as they looked up.

Day two of knowing Gavin Free went down in Jeremy’s books as one of his favorite days, and he knew that it would take a lot of force to ever make him forget it.

Before Jeremy knew it, it had been two months since he had met Gavin Free in a nightclub that he was forced to against his will. Though, as he thought back on it, he was truly glad that he had gone to the club that night. Without that night, he wouldn’t have met Gavin, and he honestly couldn’t think of what he would ever do without him. He supported him in ways that he had never been supported, made him laugh even when he felt as if there was nothing worth laughing about; he had made his life better.

“What do you see this time, Lil’ J?” Gavin asked as he gazed up into the sky. Jeremy hummed as he searched the stars above him, just like they had done several times since the first time Gavin had brought Jeremy up here.

“I think- okay, so, hear me out here. I’m pretty sure that those stars over there kinda look like a yoshi egg from mario, you know?” Jeremy points out, his finger raised to the sky. Gavin giggled slightly and nodded in agreement.

“Heck, Jeremy, I see it! Nice!” Gavin cheered, and Jeremy grinned in response. He had gotten so used to having Gavin around him so often that he had become so accustomed to his made up words and random phrases that actually made no sense at all in the context they were being used.

“Do you see anything, Gav?” Jeremy inquired, and Gavin stared up at the sky for a long while before speaking.

“Do you ever just get so comfortable somewhere that your mind wanders and leads you to thinking about things you never really think about?” Gavin questioned, diverting the subject away from the stars. Jeremy didn’t mention it though, he always loved when his and Gavin’s conversations varied. It’s what made every night more interesting than the last.

“Yeah, that happens to me quite a lot,” Jeremy agreed, and Gavin hummed in acknowledgement. “What are you thinking about?”

“I just… I was thinking about what I want my future to look like, you know? I don’t think about it very often, it stresses me out to even think about it since it’s so uncertain; I guess that’s the struggle when you have no reliable job or income or anything that really sets you apart from the rest of the people stuck on Earth at the same time as you,” Gavin rambled, sighing at the end of his answer.

“Since you were thinking about it, what do you want your future to look like, Gav?” Jeremy asked, his curiosity taking hold of him. Gavin paused for a moment, chewing on his lower lip as he thought.

“My ideal future, if I was allowed to choose exactly how I would want to live, would be to be rich, as awful and stereotypical as that sounds. It sucks having to rob people of their own money in order to keep me fed and alive, and I honestly just wish that I could support myself but also have everything that I’ve ever dreamed of, you know?

“For example, I’d own so many things, like a penthouse, a few nice cars, maybe a better bike than the dirty sanchez,” Gavin paused to laugh before continuing on. “Maybe I’d even buy a helicopter or something, who knows. Actually, I know exactly what I’d buy, Jeremy!”

“What’s that, Gavin?”

“I would buy a fire truck!” Gavin exclaimed, turning his head to beam at Jeremy. Jeremy just rolled his eyes and laughed at his ridiculous statement.

“Can you even buy a firetruck? Like, is that even a thing that you can do?” Jeremy queried, a dumb smile on his face.

“If I have a ton of money, then what can’t I do, Jeremy?”

“Lots of things still, Gav.”

Gavin scoffed and waved his hand in the air.

“Who cares about technicalities anyways, the most important thing that we have to focus on here is the fact that if I bought a fire truck, I could drive around with the siren on all the time, and I could honk that absurd horn whenever I want at random pedestrians, and you know what the best part would be? I could spray people with the water, Jeremy! They would be sliding all over the gaff, it would be an absolute mess!” Gavin shouted with delight, and Jeremy couldn’t help but smile along with him.

“Well, in that case, I hope that someday you have enough money to buy yourself a nice fire truck, Gav. It sounds like you’d have a ton of fun with it,” Jeremy told him, his voice earnest.

“Of course, I’d buy you an apartment or a house or something as well, whatever you’d want. Heck, you could even live with me in my penthouse…if you wanted to, that is….” Gavin said, his voice trailing off in embarrassment at the end. Though, Jeremy didn’t even notice his falter.

“God, it would be so nice to live somewhere other than where I am now,” Jeremy groaned, Gavin remaining silent in order to hear Jeremy speak more on the topic he had never heard much about.

“Honestly, where I live now sucks dicks, because I’m pretty sure that 99% of the time, my parents don’t even know that I’m there, and if they actually do know, then they just honestly don’t give a shit. I just…” Jeremy’s voice wavered slightly, and he took a deep breath before continuing. “I just want to live somewhere and be somewhere where people actually give a shit about me- where people actually care if I don’t come home at night, where people notice when I’m upset again, or just where I could walk in the door after school and have someone greet me fondly rather than just ignore me and act as though I didn’t exist. I just…I want something like that.

“But that doesn’t happen for people who are poor, have no job, and have no car. So I get to live with it until I can someday find an escape, if one exists. For my own sake, I honestly hope it does,” Jeremy sighed as he came down from his rant, his face red and blotchy as one tear rolled down the side of his head before falling onto the wooden planks underneath his head. Gavin remained silent for a few minutes, chewing on his lip and staring at the stars.

“You could come live with me,” Gavin spoke, his voice quiet and cautious. Jeremy’s jaw fell agape at his words, and he sat up from where he was laying down to stare down at the Brit.

“What?” Jeremy asked, completely shocked. Gavin propped himself up on his elbow and looked at Jeremy seriously.

“You can move in with me,” Gavin repeated, adding “I’d actually really like the company, my flat is incredibly boring when it’s just me there all the time. Plus, we’re already together pretty much every day anyways, so might as well just live together right?”

Jeremy contemplated for a moment, but just as he was about to speak, Gavin continued on.

“Honestly, Lil’ J, if you’re not wanted at home, I’d love to have you living with me instead, because I would enjoy your company, and I would hope that you would feel enjoyed as well,” Gavin finished sheepishly, a small blush creeping up to his cheeks. Luckily for him, the night prevented Jeremy from seeing the red as it became clear, and for that Gavin was grateful.

“Seriously?” Jeremy asked, taken aback by Gavin’s proposal. “You’d be okay with me moving in?”

“More than okay, actually,” Gavin confirmed, his tone genuine. Jeremy smiled one of the largest smiles he’s ever done, beaming at Gavin with complete elation.

“Okay then, I guess I’m moving in!” Jeremy announced, and the two of them beamed at one another, pure joy evident on their faces. They spent a while making plans for how they were going to get Jeremy’s stuff to Gavin’s flat, before finally just concluding that they’d just play it by ear and see what happens. They were usually pretty good at that, one could say that it was their specialty.

“So, Lil’ J?”

“Yeah? What’s up, Gav?”

“You never told me what you want your future to look like,” Gavin informed him, and Jeremy frowned slightly.

“I guess I didn’t say anything because I’m almost certain that you’re going to think that it’s dumb and cheesy. Yours was a lot better, honesty,” Jeremy confessed, a little bit dejected.

“Who cares if it seems stupid, Jeremy. I mean, c’mon, I just told you about how I want to buy a firetruck in the future. Whose ideas are stupid now?” Gavin asked, his words slightly humorous but his tone remained serious. Jeremy groaned, but eventually caved under Gavin’s gaze.

“I guess the only thing that I want in my life is true love, as cliche as it sounds. I want someone romantic, who’s charming, and knows all the perfect moves no matter what the situation. I want someone to make me feel like I’m home when I know that I don’t have one. I want someone who can make me laugh when I feel like there’s no reason to laugh anymore. I just want…I want…-”

“Devotion,” Gavin finished for him, and Jeremy nodded quickly in affirmation.

“Yes, exactly! I just want something perfect that doesn’t end up going away as soon as I get it. I just don’t think I can handle that feeling anymore,” Jeremy confessed, his head lowered and his eyes focused on the wooden planks he was sat upon. He heard shuffling as Gavin sat upright completely, taking on the same posture and position as Jeremy. Though, Jeremy made no move to look at him, he just kept his eyes focused on the ground beneath him.

“Jeremy,” Gavin called out softly, his voice barely above a whisper. Jeremy still didn’t look up, refusing to look him in the eyes because of his own embarrassment. However, he ended up looking into Gavin’s stunning green eyes anyways as Gavin placed a gentle hand underneath his chin, tilting his head up to make eye contact with him.

Gavin observed the small droplets that had begun to gather underneath Jeremy’s bottom eyelid, and he reached up to swipe them away tenderly with his thumbs, resting both hands on either side of his face. Right as he began to pull his hands away, slightly ashamed and worried that he may have overstepped some boundaries unknowingly, Jeremy reached out and grabbed Gavin’s wrists, pulling him back towards him quickly and wrapping his arms around his neck. Gavin went along with the motion, wrapping his arms around Jeremy’s neck quickly, and the two of them sat staring into each other’s eyes for a moment, seemingly lost in one another.

Eventually Jeremy snapped out of his trance and flicked his eyes down to look at Gavin’s lips, and Gavin immediately took the hint and began to lean forward. However, just as he began to lean forward, Jeremy yanked him in roughly, which caused Gavin to bang his nose into Jeremy’s, and the two of them fell down laughing while holding their noses in pain. Gavin had fallen on top of Jeremy, who was now laying flat on the wooden platform, staring up at Gavin with a large grin on his lips. Once the two of them stopped laughing with their hands over their bruised noses, Gavin spoke again.

“Should we, I don’t know…try that again?” Gavin suggested sheepishly, and Jeremy nodded and smiled shyly. Gavin chuckled once before he placed both hands back onto the sides of Jeremy’s head, allowing himself more control this time.

He leant down slowly, stopping a centimeter before their lips would be touching.

“Oh for fucks sake, just kiss me you moron,” Jeremy exclaimed, exasperated. Gavin laughed in response before lowering his face the remaining distance and closing the gap.

It was slow, nothing too rushed or frantic; just two people genuinely enjoying the moment that they were sharing. They remained like that for a few moments, lips moving together in sync, but eventually Gavin pulled back, staring into Jeremy’s eyes fondly.

“That was…” Gavin began, a breathy laugh escaping his lips.

“Enchanting?” Jeremy suggested, and Gavin began to laugh. The two of them sat together in silence as they stared into one another’s eyes, getting lost in each other once again.

“I can’t believe you’re comically large nose fucked up our perfect first kiss,” Jeremy lectured sarcastically, a smirk on the edge of his lips.

“Shut up, Jeremy,” Gavin grumbled before cracking a smile as well, leaning in for another kiss.

By the time month 6 rolled around, Gavin and Jeremy’s lives fell into sync with each other. The two of them worked perfectly together on everything, whether it was dishes, laundry, and anything else that they could think of that could use two people. They were always together, except for when Jeremy had been in school, but he had graduated two days ago and was now free to live his life away from high school.

Luckily, with high school over and the fact that Jeremy no longer lived with his parents, Chase and his crew knew nothing of his new location, and Jeremy had been bruise free for almost 5 months, and he had never been happier. To add to the excitement, it was June 4th, and Jeremy was elated that his 19th birthday had finally arrived.

Jeremy sat on the couch, idly playing minecraft while he waited for Gavin to return back to the apartment. He was excited that it was his birthday, yes, but he was also excited to celebrate it with his boyfriend that made his world bright day after day.

Pulling out his phone, which Gavin had upgraded to a smartphone for him one day as a surprise gift, he checked the time, frowning once he saw it. It had been 6 hours since Gavin had left earlier in the day, and the sun was beginning to sink lower in the sky. Worried, Jeremy dialed Gavin’s phone number and hit call, holding the phone up to his ear. The worried sinking feeling didn’t subside, but rather it increased as Gavin’s phone went straight to voicemail. Realizing that there wasn’t anything more that he could do at the moment, he sat back down onto the sofa and began to do some more mining to preoccupy his mind from the thoughts of Gavin.

Three hours later, in the darkness of night, Jeremy heard a rasp at the front door, and he quickly stood up, practically running over to it. He yanked it open quickly, a huge grin on his face, but the smile fell as he opened the door and was met with another man other than Gavin.

“You’re Jeremy?” The man asked, his voice gruff.

“Uhm, yes?” Jeremy answered hesitantly, unsure as to why this man was stood at his door. He was hearing a full suit and had a perfectly sculpted handlebar moustache, which added to the weirdness factor of the whole situation.

“Gavin told me to come here and give you this,” the man said as he extended out his arm to hand Jeremy a white envelope.

“What is it? Also, where’s Gavin?”

“You can open it yourself, I personally don’t make it a habit to look through other people’s mail so. Yeah.”

“Okay, but where’s Gavin?” Jeremy asked, anxiety building rather quickly inside his chest.

“We had an issue…Gavin won’t be coming back for awhile. So, that’s why he left you the envelope, as well as there,” the man said as he pulled keys out of his jacket pocket before throwing them at Jeremy. He instantly recognized them as the keys to his sanchez, and he felt his heart sink.

“Is he dead?”

“What the fuck?” The man exclaims, “No! He’s just…taking some time away.”

“But-”

“I can’t give you very many details, but I can tell you this; You will see him again. That I can promise you. Don’t worry Jeremy, it’ll all come back to normal and it’ll make sense soon.”

Jeremy just sighed, resignation washing over him.

“Okay…if there’s nothing that I can do, I’ll just wait.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to wait for too long,” the man said, and Jeremy gave him a weak smile.

“Good luck, Jeremy. I hope that i’ll see you again soon.”

“Yeah…” Jeremy responded, “bye.”

He slammed the door shut and leaned on the back side of it, letting his back glide along it as he slid down until he was sat on the floor. He felt like he wanted to cry but he just couldn’t make himself do it. He stared at the envelope in his hands, unsure of what to do with it in that moment. Eventually, after 20 minutes of staring at the envelope, he decided to open it.

He carefully slid his finger along the fold of the envelope, allowing the contents to be exposed. He turned the envelope upside down and dumped out everything inside, seeing a card and a piece of paper fall out. He reached for the card first and began to read it.

Smallest J,

I am so sorry that i’m missing your birthday. 19 is a big number and I feel awful that I’m not there with you. I promise you that the next time I see you, I will make this up to you a million times if I have to, if it means that i’ll get to see you happy.

My new friend, Geoff, the weird one that came to your door, cut me a check to allow you to take care of yourself while I’m away. It should be included in this envelope, and it it’s not, then someone’s a bloody thief.

I promise that I will see you again, I just can’t promise when as of right now. Just know that I’m thinking about you while I’m gone, and I’m desperately wishing that I could be there with you. I’ll be back someday, and I hope that it’ll be soon, but if it’s not, and I arrive home to find that you’re not there, I would understand.

I am so, so sorry, Jeremy.

Take care of yourself, kid.

~Gavin

Jeremy set down the card and reached for the paper, which he now knew was a check, and he flipped it over so that he could read the amount.

“Holy fuck,” he swore under his breath as his eyes scanned over the number over and over again. “One hundred fucking thousand dollars?”

Jeremy’s whole world was spinning, and he leaned his back up against the door again in an attempt to get his bearings. It was all too much to process, too much at once time, and Jeremy was going to struggle to work it out. He just hoped that Gavin would return soon so that he didn’t have to start from scratch.

Month six, in Jeremy’s terms, sucked dick.

5 YEARS LATER

Jeremy groaned as he sat atop the nightclub that he had frequented all too much since Gavin had gone. Every Friday night, Jeremy came into the club, bought the same exact beer, and trudged up the stairs until he reached the roof. Then, he sat. He just sat in the exact same spot that he and Gavin had first talked and gotten to know one another, hoping that maybe he if did it enough times and for long enough, it would somehow bring Gavin back.

Though, it had been 5 years since he left, and Jeremy was starting to doubt whether or not this ritual that he had created would ever be good for anything other than draining his bank account weekly.

Since he had received that first check from Gavin when he left years ago, he had managed it well, and he still had a very large amount left, so much that he would most likely be set without a job for a significant amount of time. Jeremy had thought about staying home all the time and never finding work, but eventually he did some hunting and found a job that he sort of liked, and it got him out of the house during the day which was the main reason he wanted to find a job.

He was still living in Gavin’s old apartment, he never had the heart to even think about giving it up. The same went for the sanchez as well, he could never even think about getting rid of something that had been a key part of Gavin’s life when they had met. He knew that Gavin had wrote in his letter that he would understand if Jeremy came to the decision that he didn’t want to wait any longer, but he could never get past the first 30 seconds of thinking about leaving and not being there when he comes back.

He knew he would come back eventually, Geoff promised him that he would see him again someday. In Jeremy’s mind, 5 years was significantly long enough, and someday should be approaching any day now. Though, he had been thinking like that since after the first week he was gone.

Jeremy sighed deeply and brought his pint glass to his lips, taking a large swig of the beer. Each and every time he thought about Gavin, it made his heart hurt, but he couldn’t stand not thinking about him at all. The whole situation was a double edged sword, and Jeremy was all too familiar with the feeling of it being driven straight into his stomach.

Jeremy watched the cars below drive by, smiling sadly as he thought of what it would be like to have Gavin next to his side to talk and laugh with. He thought about that a lot these days. 5 years had really taken a toll on him. The last car drove by quickly, and within seconds it was silent- no cars, no screaming people. Just nothing. Jeremy leaned back and propped himself up on his hands, relaxing in the silence.

“This isn’t the first place I’ve checked, you know,” a voice spoke from behind him, and Jeremy’s heart nearly leapt from his chest. He quickly spun around, and he gasped when he took in the sight of them man before him.

His brown hair was now much more blonde, and his clothes were impeccable. They looked expensive and well-made, and possibly even specifically tailored to fit his tall, slender body. He wore gold-rimmed sunglasses over his eyes, and once he saw that Jeremy was looking into his eyes, he removed them, and Jeremy melted when his eyes met those emerald ones that he had fallen in love with.

“Gavin?” Jeremy asked, his tone one of pure disbelief. Gavin smiled and walked closer to where Jeremy was still sat on the floor of the roof.

“I checked Chiliad first,” Gavin continued, and Jeremy just watched in absolute awe and adoration as he spoke. He took in the way his lips moved, how his eyes sparkled when he talked about certain things. To Jeremy, it felt as if he was falling in love all over again, and it was the best feeling in the world. “I thought, ‘if there’s anywhere that Lil’ J would be waiting for me, it has got to be Chiliad, right?’ I mean, we had our first kiss up there, and that was-”

“Enchanting,” they both said at the same time, and Gavin beamed down at Jeremy, his eyes so full of love that it seemed like with the time apart, Gavin did the opposite of what Jeremy had suspected was going to happen, which was that he would fall out of love with him. Clearly, as he stared into Gavin’s eyes, he was very, very wrong.

“So why are you up here, then?” Gavin questioned, stepping closer to Jeremy, who was still sat down out of pure shock.

“Are you kidding? Yeah, Chiliad might be important, but this,” Jeremy gestured around him before looking back at Gavin, “This is where it all started. If it hadn’t been for our first talk on this roof, we wouldn’t have become friends, which means we wouldn’t have ever done any of the other things that we’ve done as well.”

“Hmm,” Gavin hummed, “I suppose that’s quite true, Lil’ J.”

“Of course it is.” Jeremy insisted, and Gavin laughed.

“So, I came to find you, because I have news.”

“Yeah?” Jeremy prompted, excitement shining in his eyes.

“My dream is slowly on it’s way to becoming a reality,” Gavin began, and Jeremy nodded. “But I realized that while my dream is coming true, there was someone else out there who’s dream hasn’t been fulfilled yet.”

Gavin approached Jeremy and held out his hand, yanking him up as soon as their hands were together.

“So, Jeremy-”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Jeremy began, fake exasperated with the largest smile spread across his face, “Just kiss me you moron.”

Once Gavin recognized the exact same words he had said to him the night of their first kiss, he immediately took the lead, grabbing both sides of Jeremy’s face with his hands, holding him close. Jeremy wrapped his arms around Gavin’s shoulders, pulling him in as close to his own body as he could, seemingly as if when Jeremy let go, he would fly off with the wind, and he would be gone again.

After a few moments, Gavin stepped back slightly and they pulled apart, just staring directly into each other’s eyes.

“That was…” Jeremy began, and Gavin grinned.

“Enchanting?”

“No… that was fucking incredible.”

Gavin laughed loudly and took a large step forward and wrapped his arms around Jeremy tightly, cherishing the fact that he could finally hold him again, and he couldn’t only see him in his dreams anymore. It was pure paradise at it’s finest.

“So Jeremy,”

“Yes, Gav?”

“Do you want to see my firetruck?”

Jeremy just laughed loudly, so loud that it echoed off the buildings around them. Gavin smiled fondly as Jeremy as he walked up and slung an arm around Jeremy’s shoulder, and the two of them began walking towards the exit together.

Sneak into Beacon, I thought. It’ll be great, I thought! There’s no way I’ll die on the first day! Well this is just GREAT! How do they expect everyone to have a landing strategy, was that some secret message that everyone except I got? That is just so typical. I bet Professor Goodwitch and Professor Ozpin are laughing at me right now, not to mention the other guys!

He caught glimpses of his brightly coloured fellow students as he fell- each of them seemed to be falling gracefully, some even deploying their somehow pre-prepared landing strategies. He heard the sounds of gunshots in the distance, and even saw what he thought might have been a parachute. But Jaune was now arcing towards the ground, and all the while flailing about with the grace of a panicked, squawking chicken.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Not like this! I don’t want to die like this!

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” was all he said (or rather, shrieked) aloud.

He fell through the canopy feet first, leaves whipping at his arms and legs. He threw up his arms to cover his face in fear as the ground rushed to meet him. It would take a miracle to save him now.

At what seemed like the last possible second a flash of crimson and gold flew towards him and then- thud thwing! He suddenly stopped. He unscrewed his eyes, and found himself nailed to a tree by a long, gold and red accented spear that had pierced through the shoulder fabric of his jumper.

“Wha-? I’m alive? I’m ALIVE!” he called out to the surrounding trees, throwing out his arms and swinging a bit with the sudden movement. “THANK YOU!” he yelled as loud as he could, euphoria flooding through his system.

He swore he could hear a faint “I’m sorry!” in reply.

_______

2.

“Just hold still, Jaune. I’m almost there.”

“Right holding still. Just don’t leave me hanging too long, okay?”

Pyrrah laughed a laugh that tinkled with joy and a genuine amusement, before jumping to the next highest branch and quickly steadying herself against the trunk of the tree. As much as Jaune was grateful that he was stuck to a gigantic old tree and not a flattened mess on the ground, it had been  getting boring just hanging there, not able to do anything but wait and hope that someone would come along.

“Thanks again, for helping. And for coming to find me, that’s really nice of you,” he said, reaching to rub the back of his neck. Pyrrah had reached a branch that was slightly above and to the side of him, and was now taking a closer look, surveying him with a calculating and intelligent eye. No doubt she was figuring out how to get him down, while all the while he just hung there helplessly. Doing absolutely nothing useful.

“Jaune, I’m telling you, don’t mention it. It was my pleasure,” Pyrrah said warmly. “And besides, I kind of had to come find you to get my spear back. I couldn’t exactly leave it behind, and I figured I may as well help you in the process.” There was a note of teasing in Pyrrah’s voice, as she reached for said spear over Jaune’s head.

Jaune snorted. “Well I’m glad I could keep your spear safe while you came for it,” he retorted, light and playful. He grinned at her, and she took a second, and then grinned back.

“Alright Jaune, I’m going to pull out the spear on the count of three. Then I’m going to grab onto you before you fall and lower you onto the branch below me, and we can work our way down from there. Are you ready?”

He sighed, and looked down, before realising that was a bad idea. He was overcome with a dizzying fear- the ground seemed to be so far down, and was probably very, very hard.

“Uh,” he gulped.

“Jaune,” Pyrrah said firmly grabbing hold of his arm. “Look at me. If we’re going to work together, we’re going to need to trust each other and we may as well start right now. Do you trust me to catch you?”

Jaune looked into Pyrrah’s green eyes. They were earnest and determined.

“Yes, I do,” he said, and she nodded. He hoped to every deity that may be listening that he hadn’t made a mistake trusting his life to a girl he had only met earlier that day.

“Alright. One, two, three!”

Pyrrah yanked at the spear, and with a single tug it yielded. Suddenly, Jaune was falling, sliding down the tree trunk- and then he felt another strong tug, and instead he swung. Pyrrah had caught his arm, and was holding steadfast as he swung back and forth under her branch. He reached out with his free arm and steadied himself against the tree trunk, and let Pyrrah slowly lower him down.

“Put your feet a little to the left, Jaune, the branch should be there.”

He did exactly that, and his feet connected with a solid surface, and he made sure to get a solid footing before he let go of Pyrrah’s grip. He turned and hugged the trunk of the tree in triumph.

“Woo!” he yelled. “Thank you!” he said again, partly to the tree. He kissed the brown bark, and immediately regretted it, tasting dirt.

Above, Pyrrah laughed again.

“Okay, now… how do we get down?” He said, turning to take stock of his surroundings. He was still fair way off the ground, but it seemed much less of an obstacle now that he could move about on his own.

He looked up at Pyrrah, who was leaning over, her long red hair spilling over her shoulder.

“Well, did you have time to work out a landing strategy while you were up here?” she asked, with a cheery grin.

“What? No, I was a bit busy wondering how I was ever going to get down. Wait, why?”

Pyrrah only grinned, then straightened up. She backed herself up against the tree trunk, rolling back and forward on her heeled feet a few times, before she ran along the branch and leaped straight off the end. Jaune watched, opened mouthed, as she summersaulted gracefully through the air and rolled headfirst into a landing on the undergrowth below, coming to a stop on her knees.

Jaune was awestruck. “That was awesome!” he cheered down.

“Thank you, but it really wasn’t that impressive,” Pyrrah called back, but she sounded flattered nonetheless. “Okay, now your turn. You should be able to swing yourself down on the branch beneath you, but I would advise you to hurry in doing so. Some of our comrades may have already reached the ruins and retrieved the artefact by now, not to mention the threat of the Grimm.”

“Oh, right,” Jaune replied, and he hastened to work. He found a suitable branch below him that didn’t look too difficult to reach, and lowered himself down.

He managed this three times, the branches getting thicker and more abundant the more he travelled downwards, Pyrrah watching and giving advice from below. On his fourth attempt, however, Jaune miscalculated just how far he was from his next branch, and when he tried to swing himself down, he overshot by nearly a foot.

“Oh no,” was all he said as he plummeted to the ground for the second time today, landing with an ooof on his back on the forest floor.

“Jaune, are you alright?” asked Pyrrah, running hurriedly to him.

“You didn’t catch me that time,” he said, sitting up and rubbing at his stinging back.

“Sorry, you weren’t that far from the ground. Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.” His didn’t mention that his pride had probably taken a hit more than his body.

Pyrrah extended her hand, and Jaune took it, smiling. Pyrrah had a strong grip, and he’d already seen that she was deceptively strong. She pulled him to his feet with ease.

“See, no harm done,” she said, brushing off a leaf from his shoulder plate. “I can catch you when you need to be caught, Jaune, but sometimes you just need to fall on your own.”

“Is that supposed to be wise?” Jaune asked.

Pyrrah grinned knowingly. “Just some good advice.”

“Thanks, partner. At this point I need all the good advice I can get,” he said, looking around. Above, stripes of sunlight filtered through the green canopy high above, and a breeze rustled through the winding old trees, nipping at Jaune’s hair. At ground level there were thick green bushes and a layer of moss all around. It was quiet and strangely beautiful in this forest, Jaune thought.

 “We should get going,” said Pyrrah, and Jaune nodded.

They set off side by side.

 ________

3.

“Remember to keep your balance, Jaune. Put your right foot forward just a little more. That’s it, now- strike!”

Jaune thrust forward with his sword with a grunt that echoed around the rooftop, cutting at the floating suit of armour before him. The blow hit the armour’s shoulder with force, causing it to bounce downwards, before Pyrrah lifted her hand and it floated softly back to its starting position.

 “Great, now hold your sword a little lower and try again. This time, try to focus less on force and more on accuracy. An accurate strike can be more important than a powerful one, in some cases. Try to aim for the heart.”

It was nearly sunset, and the sky was a brilliant array of pinks and oranges, and the first dots of light were beginning to appear in the distance in Vale. They’d been up here since classes had ended, leaving Nora and Ren in the library. Jaune had changed into his armour, while Pyrrah had instead opted to remain in her uniform. He could tell that he was improving quite well with her lessons, mostly because he’d been quite terrible before, but now he seemed to be getting the hang of things. Maybe he could do this after all.

“Go, Jaune,” Pyrrah cried.

Jaune stepped forward and struck again, laying three blows on the armour across the chest plate. It bobbed back and forth with each blow, and he was sure the last one landed right above where the heart would have been.

“Good work!” Pyrrah called, clapping. He flashed a grin at her, then stepped back and wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead.

“I’m really starting to get a feel for the sword. It almost seems lighter than when I first started using it, although,” he stretched out his sword arm, and rubbed at the bicep with his free hand, “that may just be because I have muscles here now that I didn’t even know existed before.”

He lifted up both his arms and flexed, pouting his lips at the same time, and Pyrrah giggled. He wasn’t quite sure if she was laughing at him being silly or the fact that his arms still looked like sticks, but he took it either way.

“That’s a good thing, Jaune.” She gently lowered the suit of armour to the ground where it clanged dully and then stilled, the fuzzy black aura disappearing from her hands as she walked closer to him. “A hunter or huntress always needs to have a special relationship with their weapon. In battle, you need to have complete trust in your equipment as much as your team.”

“Kind of like you with your spear or Ruby with Crescent Rose!” Jaune interjected excitedly, after a moment of thought.

Pyrrah nodded and smiled. “Yes, Ruby’s scythe is quite impressive, isn’t it, and her connection with it is one of the strongest I’ve seen. Usually when people design and create their own weapons like she did, they have intimate knowledge of how they work. Although,” Pyrrah added, gesturing towards Jaune’s sword, “With family heirlooms like yours, there is also a unique connection of blood and history, mixed with your own personal style.”

“You know, I never really thought about it like that,” Jaune said, eyeing his sword with a newfound appreciation. “I always thought having a shield and sword was a bit boring compared to all you guys. I mean, Nora has a lightning hammer and Yang can fly through the air using her arms. Her arms!” He moved his own arms back and forth to emphasise his point.

“To each their own, Jaune, but I personally think that simple weapons suit you more than any fancy one would.”

“Ha!” came a laugh from over near the edge of the roof. They both turned and looked, Jaune raising his sword.

“Who’s there?” he called. There was a silent minute before a head popped up over the edge of the rooftop, and Cardin Winchester looked awkwardly in their direction.

“I wasn’t listening in on purpose! I just put my window open for some fresh air, it’s not my fault you guys are talking so loudly.”

“Cardin,” said Jaune, firmly.

Cardin had changed greatly since the incident in the forest. He’d not only kept his promise to Jaune to leave Team JNPR alone, but he’d also become far more interested in studying and applying himself in class, and after Jaune had sent him some stern and vaguely threatening looks, had even stopped picking on faunuses in the lunch hall. Jaune was almost beginning to like him. Almost.

“I hope we weren’t disturbing you, Cardin,” said Pyrrah, far more politely.

“Nah, I wasn’t really studying,” came Cardin’s reply.

“I see, and what exactly was so funny about what I just said?” Pyrrah asked pointedly, putting one hand on her hip.

“Uh, well, the bit about Jaune… being simple…” Cardin trailed off, averting his eyes. He cleared his throat loudly. “Anyway, I heard you guys were discussing weapons. If there’s one thing about fighting I love, it’s wielding a deadly weapon. Do you guys mind if I join in?”

Pyrrah looked to Jaune, and Jaune shrugged in return. There was really no harm in including Cardin. He nodded, and she nodded back.

“Come on up, then. The more the merrier,” he said.

Cardin pulled himself up onto the roof. He was wearing half of his school uniform, with his shirt untucked beneath his sweater and pants wrinkled, tie and blazer notably missing.  

“Did you make your mace, Cardin or was it handed down to you?” asked Pyrrah, as he brushed himself off.

“I made it, but its design is based on my father’s. His was much more impressive, though- it was massive and way more intricate. I always remember him swinging it around in battle and knocking down Grimm like it was nothing.” Cardin chuckled, turning to look out towards the setting sun. “Something about that must have made an impression on me.”

Pyrrah glanced Jaune’s way, then walked towards the edge of the roof and stood a little distance from  Cardin, her shoes clicking on the concrete as she went. He followed suit.

The sky was now a burnt orange, and the sun was a glowing half crescent over a distant hill. Night was creeping in, and a chilly wind was coming with it. Jaune stood between Cardin and Pyrrah, and crossed his arms, admiring the almost bird’s eye view of Beacon in the dusk below. It was quite a lovely sight, with everything bathed in orange and long shadows from the courtyard pillars crawling slowly across the ground.

“My dad’s weapon was a relic from my grandmother, though. So I guess it’s kind of what you said, Nikos, blood and history and whatever,” Cardin added. “But really a weapon can only be as good as the one who wields it, right?” he said, turning his head and looked at both of them in amusement, as though he’d made a joke that Jaune hadn’t quite gotten.

“That is one way to look at it,” replied Pyrrah. “Another would be to say that both wielder and weapon need to work in harmony, much like we do with our body or our semblance. Without synergy with all extensions of our soul, we cannot have the balance we need to succeed.”

“Wow, that was deep, Pyrrah,” said Jaune softly. They smiled at each other.

Cardin sneered. “Deep? More like a bunch of baloney, in my opinion. A weapon is metal and you control it with your hands, and a semblance is a semblance. They’re different things.”

“Yet both a semblance and a weapon can be powered by Dust, Cardin,” Pyrrah threw back with a note of annoyance. “And we use the dust to control both. I hardly think that makes them completely different altogether.”

“Yeah, right, Miss Top-of-the-Class,” Cardin scoffed. He turned to Jaune.“What do you think, Jaune-y boy?”

Cardin was much taller than either Jaune or Pyrrah, and Jaune already knew from personal experience and from seeing him fight in class that he could hit pretty hard. Jaune also knew from his short, humiliating time at team CRDL’s beck and call that Cardin liked to play rough. So really it made sense that when Cardin then thumped Jaune on his back in a misguided push of companionship that it wasn’t a soft knock. At all.

Jaune wasn’t prepared at all. His legs were straight, and he barely had time to fling his arms out and yell before he was pushed clean off the roof by the sudden blow. He saw the ground below and the window sills of the dorm rooms flashing towards him and blind panic seized his mind before- he suddenly stopped. Something that felt like a giant hand seized at his middle. He looked down himself to see his white armour covered in a familiar black fuzz, and then he felt himself drift calmly skywards.

He must have looked quite silly to anyone watching, his arms and legs dangling down and his back in the air, ascending slowly back onto the roof. A pair of hands pulled at his arm to steady him as he was placed back exactly where he’d been standing before. He looked to Pyrrah to see her lowering her hand and huffing a sigh of relief, before turning and glowering at Cardin, who was still holding onto Jaune’s arm. He let go in an instant.

“Okay, that one was on me,” Cardin said, sheepishly. “I’ll admit that. Sorry, Jaune.”

Blood was rushing in Jaune’s ears as he patted himself down, relieved that he once again had escaped from being flat mush on the ground.

“You bet it was on you,” Pyrrah fumed, crossing her arms. “We’re on the edge of a roof! Did that not cross your mind?”

“It’s fine, Pyrrah, thank you,” Jaune interjected, throwing out his arms between them. Pyrrah looked like she was about to duel Cardin then and there, which probably wasn’t a good idea. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be the only one to go off the roof in that case. “Cardin, it’s fine, I’m okay now. But also, I kinda gotta agree with Pyrrah, man. From what I’ve seen, the best fighters have their own balance between their semblance and their weapons. I think it’s all about using the tools we have available to us as best we can.”

Cardin blinked. Jaune looked between him and Pyrrah, eyes wide and breathing heavily, then ahead at the dying sun. “Alright, how about we just forget that all just happened and enjoy the sunset. Okay? Guys?” He looked ahead determinedly.

After a few heated seconds, both of his fellow students seemed to come to some kind of silent agreement and they fell in with him, all three looking out onto the horizon. The last sliver of light still shone, determined, until it finally succumbed to the descending cool blue curtain of darkness. The sky turned dark, and orange Dust-powered lamps began turning on below.

Cardin chuckled. “You know, maybe you’re right, Jaune-y boy. Or maybe you’re wrong, who knows.”

Cardin reached out again, and Jaune flinched, spreading his legs for extra balance. But Cardin just clapped Jaune lightly on the shoulder.

“You know, from what I’m hearing and seeing in class, you’re improving every day. Maybe you do belong here after all.”

It was probably the closest thing to a compliment Cardin had ever given anyone.

Jaune looked over at Pyrrah, who was now standing in shadow, looking behind her towards the rising shattered moon. She looked regal in the twilight, and he found himself infinitely grateful that he had her there to guide him. And occasionally to stop him falling.

________

4.

It was slightly strange that Weiss, of all people, had organised the party. Well, it wasn’t exactly a party, more of an informal gathering in Team RWBY’s room to celebrate them all passing the first part of the Vityl festival, but Weiss had insisted that both her own team and team JNPR had earned some fun after their victories of the day.

Jaune had been jealous of the RWBY bunk beds since he’d first laid eyes of them. They just looked fun, unlike the uniform and flat on the ground beds in his team’s own room. Plus, they saved so much space, it felt like RWBY’s room was so much bigger and airier than theirs. He’d been putting these same arguments to Nora, Pyrrah, Ren several times, but he had yet to convince the latter two that they should do the same in their own room. Nora, of course, had jumped on board immediately.

“How can Pyrrah think these things are so dangerous? They’re ingenious,” he said to Ruby, who sat beside him on her bed, which was suspended from the ceiling using ropes (who would have thought of that?)

“I know, right?” said Ruby excitedly, “I mean, that one rope snapped like one time, but Weiss was fine in the end. And Blake has waaaay too many books to fit on the shelves, so really it also doubles as storage.” Ruby pointed across the way to Blake and Yang’s bunk bed, which was divided by layers of books.

“It’s awesome, huh Nora,” he said loudly.

“Yeah, but as long as the fun police over their disagree, it ain’t gonna happen, Jaune. Unanimous group decision, remember,” replied Nora, sticking out her tongue at him. He decided to be the bigger person, and not retaliate… until she had turned back to what she was doing. Then he poked his tongue right back.

Nora was stretched out on Yang’s top bunk reading a magazine and laughing loudly at the comic strips. She was reading them out loud to an amused Yang, who was standing on the end of Blake’s bed to be at Nora’s height and spouting out puns relating to the comics at a rapid fire rate.

Across the room, Blake and Ren were playing a silent but intense video game on their scrolls, sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the bigger screen. Weiss was standing behind them and cheering Blake on and occasionally offering tactical advice. Pyrrah had been doing the same with Ren, but had now wandered over to the small food table Ruby had set up earlier near the door.

At the start of the party it had been loaded with pilfered dining hall food like individually wrapped cookies and fruit, but Nora had also managed to make a load of pancakes and not eat them all immediately (these were now only crumbs on a plate) and Pyrrah had bought some fish treats that she’d found at the fair specially for Blake. There was also a jug of orange juice.

“So what were you saying about team attack names in your match today, Jaune?” asked Ruby, with a wide knowing grin. “Hmm, I wonder where you got that idea from,” she said, playfully pushing her shoulder into his.

Jaune looked at her, and laughed. “Oh man, that did not work out did it. I mean, we won ‘cause of Nora, but I just thought it would be awesome if we could do that thing that you guys do, you know? Just call out attack names and be so in sync that it just happens.” He sighed. “You guys do it really naturally.”

“Come on Jaune, don’t act like that,” said Ruby, this time punching his shoulder a little harder that what would be considered playful. “You guys’ll get there eventually. This is only our first year at Beacon, just imagine what we’ll all be doing by the time we graduate!”

“Ow,” he said quietly, rubbing his shoulder.

“You guys will have it all worked out. Flower Power will be like a lightning ninja move, and Arkos will be this cool thing where you and Pyrrah launch off each other’s shields, or something.”

He laughed, and looked over at Pyrrah, who was pouring herself some juice. He caught her eye, and she lifted up the jug and raised her eyebrow. He gave her a thumbs up and a smile in return.

“Would anyone like some more juice?” Pyrrah then called out to the room in general, and several heads turned in her direction.

There was a chorus of “No thank yous!” from all except Nora, who threw her arms into the air and said “Yes please!”

Pyrrah walked over with three cups in her hands, handing one to Nora before standing in front of Jaune and Ruby. Jaune watched, behind her, as Nora drank her entire cup in one extended gulp.

“Thanks Pyrrah,” he said as she handed a cup to him.

“Did you see any of those chocolate chip cookies while you were over there?” Ruby asked Pyrrah, leaning forward and swinging her legs back and forth excitedly.

“Yes, I think I saw one or two,” Pyrrah replied, looking up at Ruby.

“I can’t believe Ren doesn’t eat them as soon as he gets them. They’re mine!” squealed Ruby. She jumped off the bed with a practised ease. “Excuse me,” she said cheerily, and Pyrrah stepped back as Ruby dashed over to the food table so quickly Jaune was certain for a second that she’d used her semblance.

Ruby’s hasty exit had caused the bed to swing ominously, which had Jaune clutching at the bedsheets. Not that he was scared. He wasn’t scared, the bed was perfectly safe. Ruby slept on it every night, it had to be safe, right?

Pyrrah held out her hand to stop it swinging, and gave Jaune a look.

“It’s perfectly fine, Pyrrah. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, unclenching his fingers from the sheets.

“I didn’t say anything, Jaune, but I still don’t think that making bunk beds like this is a good idea.”

“Oh come on, Pyrrah! This is awesome, and look how much extra room they have.” He gestured around team RWBY’s room. “Think what we could do with that. Ren could have more room to do his yoga, we could practice without having to go to the roof. It’s genius!”

Pyrrah shook her head and crossed her arms. “But it’s also dangerous. I’d rather sleep soundly at night not having to worry about a bed falling and crushing me at any moment because it wasn’t structurally sound. No offence, Yang,” she added, looking over her shoulder.

Yang was holding on to her bed with one hand and was leaning back back as far as she could go.

“It’s cool,” said Yang. “I’ve been expecting Glynda to come in here and tell us to take it down since day one. I mean, it’s probably not safe, but Weiss was okay that one time the rope snapped, so I guess as long as long as no one gets seriously hurt or a teacher tells us to dismantle it, then we’ll just keep it like this.” She gave them both a thumbs up, and turned back to Nora.

“See!” exclaimed Jaune, as though a point had been made in his favour. Pyrrah raised her eyebrows at him.

“I thought I heard Ruby say Flower Power and Arkos before. Were you talking about partner names?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah. She was saying how we still have time to work out all that stuff.”

“She’s right, Jaune. With time, we can only grow stronger as a team. Although next time we’re in a match, perhaps it’s best not to spring moves on us that we haven’t practiced for. In a real battle, the enemy won’t stop and wait for us while we argue.”

“I know, Pyrrah, but like-” he gave a long-suffering sigh, dropping his arms for dramatic emphasis, “Arkos would have been so cool to show the world, you know?”

Pyrrah laughed. “I’m not so sure how I feel about the name Arkos. What about Pyraune or… Nikarc?”

Jaune grimaced, baring his teeth. “Ehhhh, why don’t you leave naming things to me, okay? It doesn’t appear to be your strong suit.”

“Oh, really. Is that what you think,” replied Pyrrah. A wicked grin appeared on her face, and she stepped forward.

Pyrrah reached out with both hands and pushed at Ruby’s bed. It swung backwards easily, and he found himself gripping at the sheets again.

“Pyrrah! I’m sorry, you can name everything,” he said shrilly, as she stepped up on Weiss’ bed to push the bed as far as it would go.

Pyrrah was now grinning toothily at him. She let go with one hand and easily leaned against the bed frame with one hand on her hip, while still holding it in place. Jaune looked over and saw that he was quite close to the wall. He reached out and grabbed hold of the short bedpost, clutching at it in fear.

They’d drawn the attention of the rest of the room.

“Let him swing, Pyrrah!” said Ruby from the food table. She had a ring of chocolate around her mouth.

“No, don’t let him swing,” said Jaune, “Ruby!” he added, annoyed.

“I say we see how it goes,” came Weiss’ voice.

“That seems dangerous, but it might be interesting to see how long the bed will last under that kind of pressure,” was Ren’s comment.

“Yeah give it a go!” added Yang.

“Pyrrah!” Jaune pleaded. Pyrrah was still grinning.

“Everyone seems to want me to let go, Jaune,” she said carefully. By this point, Jaune was clinging to the bedpost like his life depended on it. “But I really think that it’s far too dangerous to do so.”

Jaune felt like maybe there was a lesson in there that Pyrrah was trying to teach him. He looked over at Nora and the other bed, eying the now even greater distance between the two. Instead, a plan came to him.

“Wait! Pyrrah, I’ve got a better idea,” he cried, tentatively drawing his legs up onto the bed properly. He folded himself onto his knees, still gripping the wooden post. “I get it, bunk beds are dangerous and whatever, but what about this- if I can successfully jump from here to the other bed, then Team JNPR can have bunk beds. Agreed?”

Pyrrah blinked. “Jaune, that’s the silliest-”

“I’ll agree to that!” called Nora from across the way. “It’ll be fun! Ren, what do you think?”

Everyone in the room was now beginning to crowd around the beds, and they all looked to Ren. He shrugged.

“I suppose if you fail it will be funny, but if you succeed we can probably come up with a more secure way to create our beds than team RWBY.” Ren looked to Weiss and Blake. “I mean no offence.”

“It’s fine,” said Blake, “I regret using my books. It feels like every time I want to read a story I find it’s one of the ones holding up the bed.”

“And as much as I was fine when that rope snapped, it is not pleasant to wake up in the middle of the night half crushed by a full-sized bed,” chipped in Weiss, rubbing at her arm. “We really should have planned it better in the first place.”

“Yeah,” agreed Ruby, bowing her head, while Blake nodded.

Everyone turned to look at Pyrrah, who was still leaning on the bed. She sighed. “This isn’t how we should make our team decisions.” She looked to Jaune.

“Please Pyrrah,” he said, pouting. She rolled her eyes, but smiled as well.

“You have to actually make the jump, first.”

“Yes!” squealed Nora, as she rolled off Yang’s bed and jumped in beside Ren.

“This is such a terrible idea!” exclaimed Yang gleefully, as she too jumped off the other bunk bed.

Everyone took a step back, murmuring amongst each other in excited anticipation. They may have all been kickass warriors on the battlefield earlier that day, but now they were all just teenagers doing stupid stuff together.

 Like watching their friend fall flat on his stupid face because this is such a dumb idea, thought Jaune.

“Alright, quiet everyone!” cried Yang, stepping forward and raising her arms. The room hushed and stilled. “The bet is as follows- if Jaune can successfully jump from one top bunk to another, then team JNPR will get some sweet ass bunk beds of their own. JNPR, do you agree to the terms?”

“Aye!” cheered Nora, saluting.

“Yes,” said Ren calmly.

“I agree too,” added Pyrrah, “Are you still sure of this, Jaune?”

“What?” scoffed Jaune, “Of course. I’ve faced Grimm and Professor Goodwitch in a bad mood before, this’ll be a cinch.”

No, just give up now! You’re actually going to fall and kill yourself, and for what? Some bunk beds?

“Okay, then,” interrupted Yang again. “Team RWBY stands as witnesses.”

“Please don’t destroy our room for a stupid bet,” Weiss said, crossing her arms, but still seeming as eager to watch as anyone else. It should probably bother Jaune a little more than it did that all his friends were so quick to watch him do something stupid and potentially dangerous.

“Right, one last order of business before we begin,” said Yang, holding her arms wide like she was a circus conductor. “Place your bets, ladies and gentlemen! I bet ten chocolate chip cookies that he falls on his face.”

“Yang!” Jaune yelled defensively

His friends all laughed, and began shouting out their own bets. Jaune huffed to himself as Weiss joined Yang in betting against him, while Ruby and Nora added more cookies and even some pancakes to the mix. Ren and Blake respectfully bowed out of the game, but still hung around with interest, as did Pyrrah, who had now been pushing the bed back for some time. He wondered if she was getting tired.

“Okay then, are we ready to begin?” Pyrrah asked to the room as everyone settled again.

“Wait!” Ruby yelled, flinging out her arms. “I completely forgot. What about the tournament? If Jaune hurts himself-”

“Wow, I’m so glad my friends have so much faith in me-” interjected Jaune sullenly.

“-then won’t you guys have a problem?”

It was Ren who answered.

“That’s a valid concern, Ruby, but you don’t need to worry. We have already decided that Nora and Pyrrah will represent us in the next stage of the tournament.”

“Yeah, so Jaune can do as much stupid stuff as he wants, and it doesn’t matter,” giggled Nora.

“Oh, alright, continue,” said Ruby. She stepped back into line with the others, and everyone turned their eyes eagerly to Jaune.

“Errr,” he said awkwardly. He suddenly felt a terrible case of stage fright. “Maybe Ruby’s right, I mean, don’t you need me to support in the tournament? I am the leader after all.”

“Three,” said Pyrrah, ominously. She readjusted her hands on the bedframe, and the whole rig jolted. Jaune would deny squeaking at that until the day he died.

“Come on, Jaune, you can do this! I want those cookies,” cheered Ruby.

Everyone took two steps back.

“Two.”

“Fall on your face, Jaune, I want those pancakes!” jeered Weiss.

This was a mistake. This was a huge, massive, colossal mistake, thought Jaune, as he leaned forward on his knees and looked fearfully at the gap between the beds.

“One!”

After a millisecond more of hesitation, he jumped.

In retrospect, his first mistake was not properly checking his surroundings. In pushing the bed backwards, Pyrrah had also swung it closer to the ceiling, and Jaune, hunched over and clinging to the bedpost, hadn’t realised. He jumped straight upwards, trying to get some height, and so connected immediately with team RWBY’s ceiling. Then he bounced downwards, surprised but still focused on his goal. He moved towards the other bed- but it wasn’t enough. He saw in slow motion as the side of the bed came closer, and he had a split second to realise he was going to bang his head on the hard wooden frame. This… had been a huge mistake. And quite possibly his last.

“Jaune!” he heard someone cry, and then he felt himself be yanked downwards at the last second by the hood of his jumper. A hand on his back then pushed him forward, and he landed face first on Blake’s bed, shocked but unharmed.

He heard someone say, “Pyrrah, watch out!”, and he turned his head to see Ruby’s bed swinging wildly, and then someone dropped down beside him. He flopped himself onto his back, and sat up to see Yang and Blake taming the errant bed, while everyone else looked on worriedly.

“Is she okay? The bed hit her pretty good,” said Ruby somewhat anxiously.

Confused, he looked beside him to see Pyrrah rubbing at the back of her head. It clicked- to catch him, she had let go of Ruby’s bed, and it had swung back down with a vengeance. Gravity really was a heartless mistress.

“I’m fine, everyone,” Pyrrah said, raising her arm placatingly before sitting herself up. “One knock to the head isn’t enough to keep me down, you all know that.”

Her words broke the tension- Nora swore and groaned at her lost bet, while Weiss smugly patted her on the back, while Ruby tried desperately to backtrack.

“Okay, but what if, theoretically, I made that bet knowing that I didn’t actually have any cookies to bet with.”

“Well, you’ll just have to get some then. No wiggling out of this one, little sis!”

“Yaaang, please!”

With the excitement over, everyone started to lose interest and wander back to other parts of the room. Ruby’s bed was now still, but the sheets were twisted where Jaune had jumped from.

“I really wanted those bunk beds, Jaune!” Nora called from across the room.

Pyrrah turned to Jaune.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “That was stupid.”

“Yes, it was,” agreed Pyrrah, still rubbing at her head around her golden diadem.

“Sorry. That was probably one of those times you should have let me fall on my own, you know. As a lesson in stupidity, or recklessness, or whatever.”

“Yes, I probably should. It would have served you right.” She stared straight ahead seriously, but after a minute burst into laughter. “Watching you bounce off that roof was funny, though.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, grinning himself. They laughed together for several minutes, before settling down on the soft surface of the bed, still beside each other

“So… why did you do it?” he asked quietly after a short, companionable silence. “Why do you ever catch me?” He looked down, and saw that their hands were resting side by side.

“Because I want to, Jaune,” replied Pyrrah earnestly. “I won’t always be there when you fall, you must understand that. But I am more than happy to help you while we’re both here. You’re my friend.”

He smiled at that.

“Same for you, Pyrrah. I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I promise I will always try my best to catch you when you need it. I have to return the favour, after all.”

She put her hand on his shoulder, and they both smiled warmly at each other.

“So,” Jaune said, as his friends began laughing from the other side of the room, “the deal still stands if I try to jump again, right- ow! Pyrrah!”

 ________

One time he couldn’t return the favour

1.

Pyrrah tried, and there was no one in the world who would deny that.

The arrow fazed through the shield, shifting and glowing bright before reforming completely on the other side. It buried itself into the back of her heel, easily penetrating the leather of her heeled boot.

Pyrrah cried out at the crescendo of pain that followed.

She fell to her knees.

Far away in the city, Jaune fought a Grimm, driving his sword into its heart with a scream of frustration and the ghost of her kiss on his lips.

He didn’t catch her.

He didn’t save her.

________

Um. You wanted sad Arkos, right? No? Sorry.

It was not a large blog, only a couple thousand followers. Weiss began posting when she was twelve about the different recipes her and Klein would make in the Schnee family kitchen. As she posted more and more, her blog began to gain more traction from other coffee snobs. After many different themes and other odd points ( aka. The time she only posted black and white photos of her poor latte art), Weiss finally discovered a new way to make her blog fresh : finding the best cup of coffee in Vale.

In her quest for the perfect cup, Weiss met Blake. Blake was helping her parents run Faunus, a small hole in the wall in Menagerie, the lower area of Vale that was too covered street corner to street corner with different shops, where the two met. when Weiss walked in. The fall colors had just began to show in the trees outside as a cold breeze flooded in with the white-haired girl. Blake looked up from the book she was reading only to see Weiss studying the menu with more concentration that her parents when they took over Faunus.

Weiss ordered a piccolo latte, and although it was good, it was not the taste she desired. Blake saw the look of dismay when the girl took a sip and was going to ask her if she did not like the coffee, but Weiss had already left the store. Although normally Weiss would not return to a shop after realizing it was not the one, she did enjoy the atmosphere of Faunus. The next day, she came in with a laptop and her own tumbler of some green tea she made at home, and Weiss camped out for a couple of hours doing more research on the coffee shops in the area. In between reading reviews, she glanced around Faunus, taking in all of her surroundings.

The shop was designed like an old tea shop from China, which Weiss has visited last summer. Dark brown wood covered the counters, and scrolls decorated the walls.

Across the shop, Blake stood talking to her mom about some of their coffee supply not coming in on time. Her eyes began to wonder to see Weiss sitting on one of the small brown sofas with a tumbler and had not bought anything. She excused herself from the conversation she was having with her mom to kick out the rude customer; however, Blake saw what Weiss had open a word document and had different pictures of the shop on the page. The layout looked familiar. Too familiar.

“ You’re CoffeeDust”, Blake announced to Weiss. The blogger turned around with wide eyes to stare at Blake. The thing about Weiss’s blog is that she never had revealed her true identity. Weiss readied herself for a slew of questions and awkward ramblings, but Blake instead sat down beside her. She looked over the screen and read the small paragraph Weiss had written about Faunus. “If you are truly looking for a good picco, I think I might know a few places”, Blake said after a few minutes of silence.

After that day, Weiss’s journey alone added Blake. The two would talk and compare different drinks across the city. Even though they went to twenty more coffee shops and even started to do repeats just in case a different barista changed how good the cup was, Weiss still could not find what she craved. Today, they sat in Faunus scrolling through new places to go.

“How about the Qrowbar?” Blake asked from across the table.

“ Been there. Nothing new, except the guy kept trying to sell everyone Irish coffees”, Weiss replied. She layered a new picture onto her word document for a third review for Faunus. Ever since her first posting, business at the coffee shop has increased, transforming the quiet place more popular than the Starbucks down the street.

Blake rolled her eyes. “ Well then how about Blood Gulch? I hear they got a mean original drinks list.”

Weiss shook her head. “ I went there when I first came to Vale. The barista started arguing with the another employee in the middle of taking my order. Then, their manager came out and started yelling at them to ‘shape up’”, she said in quotation marks.” After ten minutes of listening to them bicker, some guy in the back, who I guess was the baker, came out and started talking about his feelings to me. They gave me some sort of red drink when I ordered my coffee black. Never again.” Blake let out a sigh and continued on her search for a coffee shop Weiss had not gone to.

“ Well, we could go to Xiao Long.” Weiss’s eyes looked up at Blake. She had not heard of Xiao Long. “ It just opened last week, and it is close to Signal Hall.” Signal Hall is on a small island on the outskirts of Vale called Patch, meaning the only way for them to get to the shop would be by ferry or the dreaded pedestrian bridge. It would have to be a weekend trip, and it was only Tuesday.  Weiss could not wait.

“We have to go”, the heiress shouted, standing up from the table. Blake’s arm shot out, steadying the coffee cup that almost fell over. She began packing away her laptop and other items while Blake just watched her. The barista looked at the clock.

“ Weiss, you have a class in twenty minutes. We can go Saturday”, she tried to reason, but Weiss was not listening. She grabbed her white and grey cardigan from the back of her chair and slung her backpack over her shoulders. “Listen to me Weiss”, Blake pleaded. Weiss finally turned and looked directly at Blake. “ Go to class right now, and I will ask my dad if I can get off early tomorrow or come in late or whatever. Just go right now.” Weiss huffed at her friend but understood why Blake wanted Weiss to not get behind.

As Weiss walked back to Beacon, she began looking up reviews for Xiao Long, yet there was none. Not even a small review.  Well that annoyed Weiss. She sat during her English class without actually paying attention, but instead, wondering about the small shop.

After class, she continued to try to research, but a text from Blake telling her to focus kept her on track. Blake had dropped out of college a semester before Weiss joined Beacon in order to help her parents run Faunus. Menagerie had become the new area for upper class people to move into and forcing the actual people of Menagerie to jack up their prices just to survive. Weiss remembered the look of sadness that crossed her friend’s eyes as she talked about the shop. The heiress had never had to worry about money due to her father owning the Schnee Coffee Company. That also fueled why she never wanted to reveal who she was on CoffeeDust. People would never trust the opinion of some prissy rich girl, but a young girl who loved coffee would get followers.

The next day, Weiss woke up and looked on her phone to see if there was any reviews for Xiao Long yet. There were none, sadly. Weiss sighed and went to class reluctantly. Her professor stopped talking about the Renaissance halfway through the lecture to go on a tangent about the time he fought a bear, which none of the kids actually believed. As soon as the clock struck ten, Weiss bolted out and ran towards Faunus. Blake stood outside the coffee shop in her black peacoat, which matched Weiss’s white one, on her phone. They greeted each other and ran towards the pedestrian bridge. Although the ferry would be a nicer view, the pedestrian bridge was a lot quicker. The cold winter air nipped at their faces as they walked across the river.

When they finally reached Patch, the streets changed from busy and crowded like Menagerie to almost barren. The two girls walked through the empty streets, and looked at the shops. An occasionally chain restaurant would show up every five streets, but otherwise, only family owned shops and apartments lined the streets “ Just a couple more streets”, Blake said. Weiss looked at her phone and saw they had only taken twenty minutes to get to the Xiao Long. That gave them ample time to enjoy the area.

Xiao Long is small, smaller than Faunus. It fit in with the neighborhood, yet it stood out due to its bright yellow awning. Rose murals covered the outside of the doors, and a dragon was the door handle. It honestly was odd and charming at the same time. They entered the shop, and a blast of warm air enveloped the two. A fireplace sat in the corner and was surrounded by worn couches. A blonde girl with her hair in a ponytail stood with her back turned to the door. Blake walked up to the counter to order while Weiss took some picture of the random nick nacks around the place.

Their conversation sounded aimable while Weiss tried getting a better photo of the line of golden roses along the mantel. It was honestly a cute store, but Weiss still needed to try the coffee in order to truly be impressed. Blake came over to her friend with a blush across her cheeks and a green tea in her hands. The mug looked like children had painted it, making it all more adorable. “ I got her phone number”, Blake whispered. She unfolded a small piece of paper to reveal a number and a messy signature. Yang Xiao Long. She must own the place.

Weiss turned to the counter and saw the blonde was nowhere in sight. She slowly approached the counter and stared at the menu. It was filled with handwritten drinks, mixing the classics with their own originals, such as a Crescent Rose and the Ember Celica. A small cough distracted Weiss from her deciding what she would order. A girl stood behind the counter, but she was not Yang. She had shoulder length black hair with slight red tips and the largest silver eyes Weiss had ever seen. She had a gentle smile on her face as she bounced on her feet.

“ Hi, my name is Ruby. Do you know what you want?” she asked. Her voice was high pitched yet not enough to be annoying. Weiss glanced back up at the menu to see if they served a picco, which they probably did. She was frozen though. What was happening?

“ I.. um . would like a …”, Weiss had no idea. She always knew what she wanted.

“ Well, if you are unsure, I would recommend the Crescent Rose. I came up with it all on my own”, Ruby said proudly. The girl made her own coffee drinks.

“ Sure, give me that”, Weiss was able to spit out. Ruby smiled and turned around to the espresso machine. Weiss watched with wide eyes as the girl moved so quickly between three different machines.

Ruby shifted her head around to look at Weiss. “ So, how did you hear about us?” She was just trying to be friendly.

“ We were looking at coffee shops in the city and saw you guys had just opened”, Blake said, saving Weiss from embarrassing herself. They both took a seat at the bar next to the ordering counter. Ruby giggled as she poured the steaming milk into a mug that looked like it had been broken many times and purely glued together. At any other place, Weiss would have demanded another cup, yet here, it seemed to fit in perfectly.

Ruby started walking around the space to another coffee machine, where she hit a few levers and watched as the coffee would come out. “ Yea, my dad finally got some money together and opened our place up. He was scared that we would not get much business since not many people come over to Patch. Most of the people already have their schedules and stick to them. I told him to wait until the concerts start again at Signal Hall. I said I would be willing to work late, but he replied ‘No! You need to get sleep’. But like, why would I need to sleep if I could just drink more coffee to stay awake. Am I rambling?” Ruby said, all without taking a breath. A spew of steam broke up their conversation. Ruby made a squealing sound before turning around and grabbing another shot of something. She mixed the espresso into the mug, added some more of whatever came from the front machine, and finally began pouring more milk into the mug. She wiggled the canister, probably making a leaf like every other barista.

What Weiss got shocked her. The mug was placed in front of her as Ruby looked at Weiss for a reaction. Before she would take a drink, she would have to take a photo. Ruby designed a full rose on the top of the coffee. No simple flower but it had details and a light pink tone to the drink. After the photo, Weiss raised the mug to her lips and tasted the Crescent Rose.

It was the sweetest drink Weiss had ever tasted. The bitterness came in as an after taste, but the sweetest came back. Rose water, chocolate infused coffee beans, skim milk, and something else. Cinnamon? But Weiss never saw the girl put anything else in the drink. How could she have created such a masterpiece?

“ Did you like it?” Ruby asked. She looked nervous but excited.

Weiss took a moment. She did not want to come off too forward but… “ This is the best coffee I have ever drank”, she said. Blake looked at her in shock before grabbing the mug. She took a quick sip before entering the same state as Weiss. They both sat at the counter in awe. Ruby just smiled back at them.

“Oh wow. Stop lying. It is my baby, but Dad was really weary about putting it on the menu”, she said. Ruby began to clean up while Weiss and Blake just looked at each other. That masterpiece could have never been on the menu. Yang came out of the back room to see the two girl at the counter in shock while her little sister washed some dishes. She strolled over to Blake and Weiss and saw the mug between them.

“ Was my tea not good enough for you Blake?” she asked with a joking tone. Blake broke from her trance and smiled.

“ I don’t know. I think I could make a better cup”, Blake teased. Yang looked amused.

“ You make tea?” she questioned.

“ One of the best in the city, but I am more of a coffee person”, Weiss replied. She finished off her coffee and wanted to buy another, but her phone alarm went off before she could reach her wallet. Weiss looked at her phone and saw she had a class in thirty minutes on the other side of town. Blake and Yang were talking about the best way to brew tea and whether brewing in milk or water tasted better ( it is milk by the way).

“ Well, I need to go”, Weiss said. Blake nodded, and the two got ready to leave.

“ You will be back?” Ruby asked from the sink. She had a faint blush on her cheeks as she asked.

Weiss looked down and smiled. “ Of course!” Her and Blake walked back onto the empty street and began their journey back to Menagerie for Blake and Beacon for Weiss. They both talked about the baristas and the coffee, but more importantly the baristas. Blake’s phone went off with a text from Yang asking her out for- of course- coffee. They both freaked out in the most civilized way of smiling at each other. After Blake got back to Faunus, she promised to text Weiss about what happens between her and Yang. Weiss said goodbye to her friend and went back to Beacon.

She sat down for a lecture in design about basics of layouts, which she already knew. She chose the seat in the back corner in order to work on her own website and would probably turn in an old version of her website for her final project. Weiss uploaded the pictures she took of Xiao Long to her laptop. She began dragging photos of the outside to the top corner, and the fireplace got a larger photo on the right. She wrote about the atmosphere before getting to the coffee. Everything she said was flowery and full of too many adjectives. Weiss grabbed the photo of her coffee and saw Ruby’s figure in the background on one of the photos, making the heiress grin. She could always go back for a second opinion on the shop.

Weiss did go back for a second time, a third, a fourth, and many more until she came into the shop daily. Sometimes, she would take the trek in the morning, but a blonde man, who she found out was Taiyang, Ruby’s father, working. He would be nice, but the shop did not feel right without Ruby or Yang. After her first class, Yang would be working. Yang had lost her forearm a couple of years back in a motorcycle accident. Weiss put that in her notes about the shop’s staff for the post. Ruby would always be working in the late afternoons, usually after Signal would let out.

Ruby told Weiss everything about herself over the course of a couple weeks. Ruby is a senior at Signal Academy with hopes of getting into Beacon as soon as she graduates. Although she loves making coffee, her dream is to become a teacher or help kids in some way. She had been making coffee since she could press the button on their old Mr.Coffee. Her mother went missing when she was younger, but Ruby did not let it affect her.

As the weather got colder and Christmas came around the corner, Weiss had basically become addicted to Xiao Long. Weiss and Blake walked over to Patch a week before Christmas. The walk had grown less troublesome and more comforting. They began to notice the people inside the little shops on the way. Tukson’s Book Trade was frequented by Blake when Yang was out with her dad getting things for Xiao Long, and the man who seemed to run every other shop on their way know knew the girls by name, even though they never asked him about his own.

Once they arrived, Blake immediately walked up to the barstools. Yang stood on the other side with a hot cup of tea waiting for her. The two had been trying to outdo each other with teas and alternated which shop to stay in. Blake was winning in Weiss’s mind, but she knew there was no true winner. Weiss waltzed around the room. The family had placed holiday decorations around the shop, keeping the homey feeling. Loose garland laid along the mantle, sewn through all the family photos that now sat on top of it. Ruby had placed a little Christmas tree on one of the tables to which Yang threw a menorah on another table out of spite. They then proceed to have a Hanukkah and Christmas battle throughout the store. Taiyang just sat back and accepted his daughters would never agree on a holiday to celebrate.

“ Weiss!” Ruby yelled from the back room. Weiss rolled her eyes and walked towards the door with an ‘employees only’ sign. Since the shop was not busy, like it usually was, Weiss could freely roam the entire store without anyone caring. Ruby stood on top of a small stool in the back room reaching for something on high shelf. She wore a santa hat and her red shawl, which Weiss learned was the last Christmas gift from her mother. She use to wear it around all the time but now reserved it only for the holiday season.

“ Do you need some help Ruby?” Weiss asked. Ruby nodded before handing Weiss a large amount of different greenery and some tape.

“ We need to finish decorating the outside, and you are going to help me”, Ruby said with no falter. Weiss rolled her eyes. Normally, she would have put up a fight but not with Ruby. Her small crush on the silver-eyed barista had flourished into something a lot more over her time going to the shop. It could have been her laugh that would make anyone smile, or the way she would move with grace while holding five different cups on her arms, or maybe it was the look in her eyes whenever she asked Weiss to try a new drink, but it was probably the feeling Weiss felt in her gut when she looked at Ruby that sealed every feeling of doubt towards her true feelings for Ruby away.

She nodded and waddle out the storeroom into the center of the shop with Ruby following right behind her. Yang and Blake glanced at the two before returning to their conversation now in a hushed tone. Weiss knew they were talking about them. Blake told Weiss a month ago that her and Ruby need to hurry up and date. Before Weiss could react, Blake added quotations marks and said from Yang. Instead of saying anything, Weiss gave the two her signature glare before walking to the front of the shop.

Ruby took some of the garland and began stringing it around the door with the roses. Twinkling lights already decorated the outside of Xiao Long and every other shop along the street. A light snow had begun to fall outside, causing small flakes to get caught on Weiss’s coat and in Ruby’s hair. Weiss would get distracted at looking at Ruby and forget to hand her more of the branches. The last bit of greenery was a small bushel of some leaves with white berries.

Ruby pushed Weiss inside the door while she stood outside. “ Lift me up, so I can hang this up.” Weiss nodded and turned around. Ruby jumped on her back and placed the bushel on the top of the door frame. The raven-haired barista slid down off Weiss’s back and back outside. Weiss turned around to see Ruby’s cheeks were more red than they were from the cold earlier. “ Hey Weiss. Guess what?”

“What Ruby?”

“ Well, we are under the mistletoe. You know what that means”, Ruby said. Before Weiss could react, Ruby shot forward and kissed Weiss. Her lips were soft and sweet, just like her coffee but no bitterness ever came. A soft pressure nudged Weiss to kiss her back. Ruby lifted a hand to caress the side of Weiss’s face as Weiss wrapped an arm around Ruby’s waist. They would have continued if a wolf whistle had not came from behind them. They both turned to look at Yang and Blake, who was snickering.

“If you two are done, I think you might be scaring away customers”, Yang joked, then getting back to cleaning. Ruby and Weiss then began to laugh. Ruby held Weiss close as they closed the door behind them. After that day, Ruby asked Weiss if they could become girlfriends. Weiss immediately said yes.

The Xiao Long post on CoffeeDust was the longest post Weiss had done to date. It was at least ten pages of photos followed by commentary on the staff, atmosphere, and even more on every drink on the menu, including parts of the secret menu Yang and Ruby had explained to Weiss and Blake one afternoon. Weiss proclaimed she found the greatest coffee in Vale. The response from her followers was amazing.

The next morning after posting, Christmas Eve, Weiss stopped by the shop to see a line outside. She was able to weasel her way into by saying she worked there. All three Xiao Long and Rose family members were behind the counter and even the guy who ran the Qrowbar was helping take orders. Ruby noticed Weiss and gave her a small wave before getting back to making multiple coffees in one go. Weiss waved back and moved into the storeroom, where it was quieter. The supplies in the room had been well stocked the day before, but now, every bag was open in some way, shape, or form. Weiss smiled. There would be no more slow days for the family. That was for sure.

After ten minutes of sitting on her laptop, Weiss noticed Ruby walked into the storeroom. The barista made her way over to where Weiss was sat and plopped down beside her. She then grabbed Weiss’s face and kissed her. Weiss could feel the exhaustion in the kiss, but Ruby still tried to give it her all. After a couple of minutes of lazy kissing, Ruby broke it apart. “ When were you going to tell me?” she asked.

Weiss blushed. “ I don’t know what you are talking about”, Weiss replied.

Ruby stared at her. “ You are CoffeeDust, and you never told me.”

“ I didn’t want you to be mad at me”, Weiss replied.

Confusion swept across Ruby’s face. “ I am not mad”, she stated plainly.

Relief flooded Weiss. “You aren’t?”

“Never”, Ruby said with a smile. She then leaned in for another kiss. “ I would like to thank my beautiful, coffee-loving girlfriend for giving the saving grace to my father’s dream.” Weiss went in for another peck before Ruby pushed her back. “ Before you can get anymore kisses, I would like to know, do you have any other major secrets that I need to know? Murdered a guy? Really hate dogs? Secret millionaire?” Ruby said the last one with a laugh.

“ Well, more like billionaire”, Weiss said casually. Ruby turned her body fully towards her girlfriend.

“ You are kidding me”, she said. Weiss then realized Ruby had never connected the fact that Weiss was Weiss Schnee.