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There’s a thick, fluffy tail with dark, coffee-colored tabby stripes poking out from the back of Johnny’s apron, perfectly matching his headband. It’s a little strange, but Ten doesn’t begrudge anyone who has to wear a work uniform, even if said uniform includes a tail. Johnny hums softly as he sets about his task, the tail flicking to one side and then the other in a feline display of interest. Ten could watch him all d-
Wait. What?
Ten stares, a dawning sense of realization cresting over him. Quote-unquote animal-themed accessories. Guests here for the coffee, but also just hanging out. Pet puns on the menu. The name Ninth Life. Paw-prints in the logo. Paw-prints! In the logo!!
Oh my god - this isn’t just a cat café. It’s a hybrid café.
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Touching Me, Touching You by venvephe for Kalika999 (kalika_999)
Fandoms: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018), Marvel
05 Oct 2022
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Peter blinks. The eye-searing font and familiar red-and-black outfit immediately snap him out of his sleepiness. When he clicked on the link for SuperCuddles.net, he didn’t think what he’d find was - well, this:
A full-page, professional photo of someone dressed up as Deadpool - complete with katanas - in terry-cloth pajamas, arms spread wide in the universal gesture of hug me! The words emblazoned at the top, in what must be ninety point font, read Super Cuddles: When Your Need for Touch is Super!!
This can’t be the real Deadpool - can it? No way. The real Deadpool certainly has a penchant for physical affection, but he’s an assassin. Being a professional cuddler is, like, the total opposite of killing people for hire.
Right?
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Ten loves being a regular at his local cat cafe. It's the perfect place to study, with its comfy chairs and warm ambience and tasty lattes. And the cats are good company, too.
Well, up until Johnny becomes the cafe's new barista. Johnny, who Ten has a crush on. Johnny, who Ten talks about with the cats all the time. Johnny, who the cats have decided is a perfect match for Ten - if Ten would only take their advice and finally confess.
A cat's idea of romance isn't the same as a human's, of course. But that won't stop Louis and Leon from playing matchmaker.
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In the autumn of his sophomore year, Kim Jungwoo makes friends with the captain of the soccer team, passes Organic Chemistry, hooks up in the library, gets advice from his roommate, watches his friends form a throuple, learns to like sports, and falls in love.
But not in that order.
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It takes Kun's jet-lagged, sleep-addled brain a few seconds to catch up with the sight before him: one Zhong Chenle, in a maroon henley and matching plaid sleep pants, face bare and hair soft and grinning at him. At seven in the morning.
Or: Kun comes home from the winter holidays.
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“So.” Johnny cups his chin in his hand, smirking. “You want just one kiss? One kiss to clear my friendship debt? That’s all the Christmas JCC is worth to you?”
Oh, if that’s where this is going, then Johnny is severely underestimating Ten’s stubborn determination. Johnny’s calling his bluff, challenging him to up the ante or back down. He should know better.
“Fine. Not just one kiss,” Ten amends, squaring his shoulders. He holds a finger in the air. “One thousand kisses.”
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Mark sets up the objects around him exactly as Ten has instructed: a bowl of salt and the lavender for protection, a saucer with Mark’s cross necklace as a capital-F Focus, with a white candle - scented like Soft Blanket, apparently - in the center. Just one more thing - the last step:
Put your hands together and make a wish.
Or: Mark is desperately in love with Donghyuck but doesn't know how to confess. Good thing he has a spell that will let him ask a genie for advice.
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“Is that the idiom we’re gonna use?” Johnny smirks up at him, kneading the muscles of Ten’s splayed thighs. “I thought we had a good thing going with the whole save a horse, ride a-”
“Finish that sentence and all you’re doing tonight is watching me ride solo,” Ten huffs.
Johnny’s smile only grows. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, partner.”
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“You’re disgusting,” Ten says affectionately.
“You’re amazing,” Johnny replies, leaning in to fit their mouths together again.
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Doyoung steps off the elevator and into the depths of Q Branch to find several of his underlings clustered around one workbench, chattering to each other in low voices. They’re so engrossed in their conversation that they don’t notice his approach - which is how he gets to overhear snatches of what they’re talking about. He almost assumes that it will be the latest sports news - uninteresting, but mundane enough - or maybe whatever album release is coming up.
But no - it’s agency gossip, of course.
Worse: it’s gossip about 007.
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The crowd shifts just so, and from halfway across the crowded club, Lucas sees him.
He's the most gorgeous person in this place - head thrown back as he laughs, his silver-blonde hair catching the light. He swirls a glass of red wine in one hand, so confident and at ease that he looks a prince holding court. Everyone around him is enraptured - Lucas included. With those leather pants and chunky rings and dark eyes, Lucas doesn't need to look for fangs to know that this man is a vampire.
Yeah. Lucas's heart - and Lucas's dick - is immediately set on him. Tonight, he's gonna live up to his well-earned title of fangbanger.
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“The jeans I gave you,” Baekhyun pauses - for dramatic effect, probably. At least Ten thinks so, until Baekhyun continues: “They’re kind of… magic.”
Ten looks down at his legs - at the jeans currently on his legs. They look like perfectly normal - if incredibly flattering - jeans. They feel like perfectly normal jeans.
"Magic," Ten says, deadpan.
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Somehow, Johnny’s punch manages to graze the Mad Burnish leader just so, because the armored figure staggers a step, blade still drawn. And then half of his helmet shatters, the black planes of hard flame cracking open to reveal its owner’s face.
Johnny’s eyes widen.
Because looking back at Johnny is the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen.
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“But...” Ten says slowly, gently squeezing Johnny’s hand in his, “we could, you know.”
Johnny’s heart nearly stops - only to kick in his chest, a surge running through his veins at those exact words from Ten’s lips. “Could what?”
“We could go back to yours,” Ten says, looking up at Johnny and holding his gaze. His eyes go half-lidded, his lips twitching into another smirk. “I could give you that demonstration.”
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It's in every kiss, every touch - every bruise they can't explain. Every heated glance that's a promise of what's to come later, behind closed doors, just the two of them:
You are the only one who needs to know.
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Three bouncers, fifteen security cameras, seven agents, six-hundred data files, thirty minutes, nine songs, and one glass of Martian rye whiskey.
Or: WayV's mission at a Titan nightclub doesn't go exactly as planned, and Ten's surprised to find heat on a moon made of ice.
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It's not particularly obvious, at first. Maybe because Christmas music is everywhere this time of year - maybe because Ten isn't quite paying attention. But it's getting hard to ignore the way Christmas songs hijack the speakers whenever he's around. Because Ten is cursed. Ten is cursed to hear holiday music whenever his thoughts stray towards romance.
And it’s not just when Ten thinks anything romantic, oh no - but when he thinks about Johnny. His crush. His maybe-even-more-than-a-crush.
December has suddenly gotten a lot more complicated.
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Partway through the first chorus of Kick It, Johnny takes the center of the choreography, and - shit.
Ten drops his phone on his face.
Holy fuck. This is a thirst trap. Maybe not a traditional one - most people don’t have an entire music video to send to a potential hookup - but it’s a thirst trap nonetheless. When the music video ends, Ten releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Dick: hard. Thirst: trapped.
So what is he going to do about it?
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Ten cups a hand around the Phantom’s exposed jaw and tilts his mouth into a kiss.
This is reckless. This is far more reckless than stealing six million dollars worth of diamonds - diamonds which Ten promptly forgets about with the little gasp the Phantom makes into his mouth. What the fuck is Ten’s life, that he ends the night by making out with a vigilante on a rooftop somewhere in midtown Chicago?
Well. Isn’t the risk what makes it fun?
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Hendery has a step-by-step plan for what he needs to do to have a good night out - not as Prince Kunhang, fourth in line to the throne, but as just Hendery. It's not too much to ask for one night out and away from his responsibilities, is it? He just wants to have fun. What Hendery does not have a plan for is a pink-haired boy with killer eyebrows, a sweet singing voice, and a weird group of friends.
Or: Hendery takes the subway, has a daiquiri, bleaches his hair, makes some new friends, loses a shoe, and maybe falls in love. But not in that order.