#earthlost

“ pete, it's fine. i'm SORRY i asked. ” there's a layer of hurt in his voice, in the undertones of his response. it's not like he's pete's babysitter, at any rate. it's just . . . sometimes he disappears from class. sometimes he answers a call and there's banging in the background. sometimes his explanations seem so finicky. there's a level to PETER PARKER that harry just doesn't have access to, and while he wants it, he learned very quickly in life that sometimes, what you want, and what you get from it, are two different things.

“ we're getting off topic, that's not what i ASKED you. i wanted to know if you could help me track him. ” marinette sits farther back in the couch, staring at the tech that surrounds her. STARK INDUSTRIES is . . . bigger than anything she's seen in paris, that's for sure. no one there had this kind of technology — no instead, they had some ancient alien magick wreaking HAVOC on her city. gabriel agreste had maybe something close to some of this, with some of the insane designs he had coming out lately. but NEW YORK is a different breed entirely: it feels so much more cramped. she can't imagine fighting an akuma on these streets. even with the ladybug cure, she doesn't know what kind of casualties she could inflict here.

RICHIE TOZIER HAS NEVER BEEN ONE TO BEAT AROUND THE BUSH . a seemingly natural occurrence when the brain - to - mouth filter never got fucking connected to begin with . richie has a thought , he says the thought , & he awaits whatever reaction ( sometimes good , mostly appalled , almost always baffled with his ability to just fucking say the shit that he does ) will come from said thought . this , however , this is one thought that had been festering in his mind , growing each & every time it's just him & lance & the fucking chaos they ensue solely by being within the same space . tonight is no different . richie's apartment has been alive with the loud swears & threats shouted at one another amid competitive gameplay , various snacks littering the coffee table along with his bong . thank fuck that stanley was out for the night doing stanley things , probably to avoid exactly what this night had to offer when you & lance fucking exist together .

street fighter theme plays lowly in the background , controllers sat on the arm rest of the couch , & you've only just begun to slip into a comfortable high when the temptation arises again . it's there , at the back of your mind , nearly every time he's near . ( similar to the thoughts you've had of eddie . eddie , with his stupidly kissable - looking lips & his stupid fucking pretty face & his stupid fucking girlfriend that serves as a stupid fucking reminder of what you'll never fucking have , you stupid fuck ! )

thoughts of lance are less . . . well , whatever the fuck you feel toward eddie is . lance is hot as fuck , he matches your humor & makes your goddamn stomach cramp from the laughter pulled all night , & you find yourself wondering if his lips would feel any better than the girls you've kissed before had . at least the thought of kissing him actually fucking makes your body react . . . the suggestion had been coated in something easy to pass off as a joke , but the look in lance's eyes tells you that he'd be willing to be serious if you were .

“dude!      no,     that     was,      i     literally     had      you!      that    wasn’t     fair!”       you     huff     out    a     breath     that’s    a     little     too     dramatic,      practically    expelling     all     air    from     your     lungs    as    your     head     falls     back     against     the     cushion.      you    stare    blankly    at    the    ceiling,     an      annoyance     festering    as     you     listen     to     lance     boast     at      your     side.      eyes     roll      and     head     turns     to     look     at     him.       it’s     then     that     it     really    registers      just     how    close    he    actually    is,      and     it      might   as    well     have    been    a    jump     scare     from     the    way     your     heart    almost    leaps    out    of    your     chest.     

“yeah,     yeah.   you     won,       big     deal.      do     you     want     like    a     cookie    or     something?”       sarcasm     comes     out    like    second     nature,     framed     by     the     mild     annoyance    at     your     loss,      &      masks     the     nervousness     you     suddenly    feel      from      being    so     close    to     him.       realistically,      you     could    just     scoot    over.      it’d     increase     the     distance,      lighten    the    air,        maybe    even     stop     the    way     your    eyes    drop     down     to     the     unbearably     annoying    curve    of    arrogance     present     on     lance’s     mouth.      “what    are    you     doing    anyway?    why    are    you     so    ----”     but    he’s     talking    again     before    you    can     blame     the    lack    of    space     on     him.

“ let’s just call this what it is… just really close talking. ”

knee     is      drawn      into     chest     and     arm      is     loosely     wrapped     around     himself,      head     canted    slightly     back     to     glance     up      at      @earthlost.        his     face      is       alight       with      the      thrill     of     it,       bill     can     see     the     excitement     in      his     eyes     &      can     hear     the     passion     in      his     voice     as     he     speaks     about     his    latest      dnd     campaign.            hands     are     used     too,      bringing     the     story     to     life     before     him.       (      not     that      he      needs      to.      bill’s     imagination     could    do    it     well     enough    on     its     own,      but     there’s   a    certain     swell    in     his     chest      as     he     watches     mike    do     it    for     him     that    makes    him     never     want     him     to      stop.      )        

softness     touches     features    as     bill     watches,      bright    blues    following    mike     to     keep    up     with     the     story    &      his    lips     curl.       he     feels     fucking    mesmerized,     and     it’s     because    he    is.       when    he     thinks     back      to     the      mike    he    had    met    and     the    mike    he    has    now,        the     mike     who’s     his     boyfriend,       bill      feels     that     flutter    right    beneath    his     ribcage,      the     butterflies    taking    their     flight     within     his     stomach.        it’s     mike’s     rambles     that     pull     him      back      into     reality,      and     if     his     dumbfounded     expression     says      anything    .     .      . 

[    RECIEVED:     Mike.    ]     are u at home?

[     SENT:     Mike.    ]       Obviously... It’s midnight, Mike.