Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Your surprise…

“And at 11, a confrontation on Valdifa-Flight 89 finds the crew shocked as an intoxicated passenger flings himself from the plane and free falls through the air, shouting profanities as he plummeted through the sky with no parachute. Police have yet to identify the suspect and a body has not been discovered. It’s believed the man may still be at large,”

You sit in front of the TV as the soft glow of the screen washes over you, vibrant colors painting your skin but failing to steal the coolness in your gaze as you look over the screen. You absent mindedly scratch at the black cat lying in your lap, the black kitten happy to be your support animal while its master is out saving one adorable creature at a time. Davi happily lays his head across your other thigh, trying to get you to give him attention as well. You were going to head to bed but when you saw his face, you just couldn’t help but plop down on the couch and let yourself be pinned down by your two furry babies.

You give them both gentle scratches as they take up whatever space they can on you but your eyes can’t escape the pull of the TV.

So it really happened, huh? You don’t know how to feel about it as you hear the newscaster say “play the clip” and watch a video of the incident, from the perspective of one of the passengers, play across your screen. Whoever had taken their phone out and pressed record really captured the highlights.

There was Keith, shoving an attendant, laughing maniacally, and overall being the complete opposite of what he’d told you he was. You could throw your remote through the screen if you didn’t have so much respect for your things now -and if you didn’t refuse to disturb Davi and Sprite- so, instead of taking your frustrations out on a pillow or stomping the floor, you just watch, centering yourself as best you can as you rest your palms on your furry friends and breathe, long, deep sighs that flow out of your mouth and nose like steam from a broiling hot engine.

Well, at least the bastard’s gone, that’s what you want to be able to say to yourself, at least, but you know better than that. No matter how much you fight it, your mind just can’t help but remember something that makes your stomach hurt a little.

You’d asked Skylar so many questions -she loved when you asked questions- and she had told you so many things that stretched your suspension of disbelief but one of the wildest had to have been the act of [Realization]. How did she say it worked again? Taking the “animas” of an object and shaping it into “an approximation of a human”.

Yes, that’s right. She’d told you that they’d live out their lives and when they died….

The groan that leaves you is palpable,

“UUUUUUUUUUUGH!” Sprite and Davi both lift their heads at that, looking up at you expectantly: was this a treat situation or a cuddle call? “Sorry guys, but I think it’s time for bed,” they give each other a look of pause before relenting, clearly still worried about their owner’s lover and their secondary “papa” but acquiescing all the same. They skitter off up stairs, definitely about to take whatever position in your bed Sam and Tom haven’t already claimed for themselves, and you begin to make the climb to follow them as you let the thought in your mind continue.

You hope you’ve misremembered, you hope you’re dead fucking wrong right now.

You step into your room and sneak out the box you keep beneath your bed before creeping back into the hallway. Sprite and Davi look up from their place on the bed, ready to follow you back out, but you turn and gesture for them to stay with Sam and Tom who just barely teeter back to sleep as you slip away.

In the hall, you take a deep breath, open your carefully crafted wooden box, and take out its contents: a dazzling pair of sleek sunglasses with orange pink hued lenses and a snazzy new finish courtesy of Skylar and Franklin. You’d have to tell them how much you liked the new design.

As you place them on your face, your world becomes illuminated in a familiar vibrancy that brings a smile to your face for a moment before you remember why you’re doing this.

Glasses on, you look at the golden sheen that sweeps across every inch of your home, signs that your friends and lovers are all out there living their best lives. You make sure to take out your phone as well, scanning it over to see if any of the apps you have respond to your gaze and sigh, relieved, when nothing does.

But then, you look at what you came here for and look down at the simple, open box with a skeleton key inside, sighing internally as you confirm what you’ve been dreading this whole time.

The shimmering gold sheen is gone.

Keith is dead and now he’s back.

You have so many calls to make.

Chapter Text

“So, mi arma, destiny has found us together once again, I see”

You stand in the space the dateviators -technically the date2viators- create, wordlessly

Standing across from you is Keith, once more manifested by the dateviators in his suave, key themed tuxedo and cap. He gives you a warm, inviting grin as though you two were the oldest of friends and closest of companions. You could applaud the shamelessness if it didn’t make the vein on your head pulsate so much.

“So, I know that we left things off at a bit of aaaa…” he trails off, “..turmultulous turn,” he nods regrettably, “I had just tasted freedom after so long and, I admit, in my haste to dine on the world’s most succulent fruits, I harmed one so beautiful, lovely and, most of all, forgiving, as you.”

He’s being quite apologetic, you have to wonder though if it has anything to do with the fact that you two are currently in the boiler room closet and you’re currently holding his key over the trapdoor to the crawl space.

“[Poise 50: Fuck with the bastard] You’re right, I shouldn’t be so- whoopsie,” You drop the key just to mess with him, quickly catching it again with the same hand right before it disappears into the shadows.

Keith doesn’t seem as amused about it as you are.

“Alright, mierda!!” His hand shoots forward with a start, cavalier mask slipping instantly as his eyes dart between the key and the abyss below. “ Fine, carajo, I’m sorry” he grumbles, “do NOT put me back in that fuckin crawlspace, aren’t you screwing 99 other people anyway: why hold a grudge for me, ay!?”

You steady your hand, “Eeehhhh, closer to 90, some of us were better off as friends,” then pull the key back from over the edge, watching as Keith’s tensed shoulders ease in time with your motion,

“Exactly my lo-” You shoot him a look, “I mean, friend, my dear friend,” you hold the key over the door again, “okay! Acquaintance, my good acquaintance..”

“And barely that,” You let the trap door close gently, not wanting to rattle Dorian’s spot should he find himself there again. “Now, explain to me why I shouldn’t bury you under one of the dumps Mateo’s animals left in my backyard.”

The green that rises to the surface of Keith’s cheeks is pleasing to you. Which, of course, serves him right. He’s a liar and a raging egomaniac, not to mention a brazen thief who stole all of your money and tricked you into stealing bitcoin of all things. It might be better for you to get a shovel and bury him out in the back afterall.

“Ah, what can I NOT offer you, perita?” He asks, his manipulative grin appearing again, “I believe I..borro-” you open the trap door again “STOLE, I stole your money  last we saw each other -ahem- perhaps I could return it to you?”

You simply smile back at him, “Ah, you must have missed it, falling out of planes and all, but I became a partner at the biggest, most influential company in the world after you left,” You lower your hand towards the open trapdoor, “I made the three stacks of bills you took on my first day working from home; try something else,”

“S-such good fortune,” His face confidence wavers immediately, trying to keep the beads of sweat from forming on his brow as you offer a simple, cheerful smile in return that radiates contempt, “then what If I were to say this,” he wiggles his eyebrows winking at you as he puts on his most suave grin, “I think it is time you and I rekindled the love between us,”

“Our love?” You ask, faux surprise and concern on your face, “now, why would I think you “give a shit about that"?" his own words repeatedly sink back into him like daggers, “what about the “long con, baby”?”

It’s here that it dons on Keith quickly that you have no real plans of being gentle with him. He’s gotten an ending with you and there’s no way to turn it back. But, as you ready to drop his key into the depths and dark, he reaches into his pocket and produces something that gives you genuine pause.

“Is that-”

“One just for you, mi arma,” Sitting in Keith’s hand is a candy, a candy that you immediately recognize as gifts he’d given to you as more of your character came to fruition. Odd, how he’d seemed so invested in your growth back then, only to turn around and cut you down at the knee when you were at your most hopeful.

You look at the thing curiously. There’s no way he seriously believes…you wouldn’t. And yet, you can’t stop looking at it. It’s quite marvelous with a design element of all the other candies that came before. And yet, it seems totally unique. Immediately you can tell that this really is a candy made just for you.

Keith’s mischievous smile grows as you lick your lips.

You take a moment and think. This IS a once in a lifetime chance, and quite frankly you’ve been meaning to know what one of these actually tasted like…just like those tidepods... You never had the misfortune of needing one before, though you were certain you came close a few times with Doug of all people. You could never read that guy.

“Eh, okay,” You relent, snatching the candy from him,

“Haha, of cour- wait, really?” He says, genuine surprise coming over him as the spectral energy flows through your date2viators and what was once an asshole becomes an asshole with a human form.

Keith gasps, smiling, patting his realized body as he stands before you, grinning and laughing to himself at his good fortune.

“I-I cannot believe you would do this for me, gracias mi arma!” He cheers as you pop the candy into your mouth. Its fucking phenomenal, totally worth letting an ego maniacal, drug dealing asshat be released to walk the mortal world.

“Aw, don’t thank me,” You say simply, enjoying the sweet taste in your mouth, “I really only did it because Dorian wanted a swing at you,”

“A poor bluff, pendajo,” He snarks back, “our dear friend Dorian simply is not the type to enact violence in such a crass manner,”

“Oh, we both agreed on that,” Keith stops as he steps out of the room and hits a strong, solid surface. The silver fox looks up slowly, eyes scanning up the wall of a man before him until he sees the face of a viking, blonde and blue eyed and grinning from ear to ear.

“So I asked Kristoff if he would do it,” You beam back at him as the color leaves Keith’s face.

You’re not a violent person but this, this does bring a smile to your face.

Chapter Text

“Wait, so did Kristoff KILL Keith!?” Chance asks with shock on his face, getting a great many looks from the surrounding parents as you and Chance sit in the cool, metal bleachers of the little league championships. Well, you, Chance, Bhodi and the Hanks. Usually there are more but only so many can break from their busy schedules to this sort of thing. Even you can only make it to so many games.

Still, you always come out to the playoffs for Parker, Dunc, and his kids, Chance also always comes out to the playoffs for Parker but your former D20 likes to pretend that he doesn’t and you like to pretend that you don’t notice how he looks at the umpire every time the colorful haired man comes close to cussing out a parent after a good call gets complained about. It’s a fun game you all get excited for every few months.

“Well first and foremost, keep your voice down,” You say, nudging him with your elbow, “and two: no, of course not; Kristoff took one step towards him and he jumped through the office window” You pause for a moment, “don’t worry, he didn’t get any glass on your D20,” Chance lets out a sigh of relief and you just chuckle in response.

You wish you had more to tell him. Keith reappearing was a shock when you told the group chat -you had to have a separate convo with Sam and Tom- especially since his re-realizing came with having to explain to them that they were all functionally immortal as long as you still had the date2viators, a prospect that excited and frightened many. Hector worried the most, not about immortality but about you being near that nutcase, and even came over shortly after you’d posted the news. He hugged you closely while you soothingly rubbed his back.

It made you wish you’d held Keith down for that pummeling..

“YOOOOOOOOOOU’RE OUT!” On the field, Parker makes another lightning fast call that breaks you out of your thoughts. The former board game’s laser-like focus catches every detail of the ball on skin contact and his voice is loud and clear as he announces his verdict. It’s a perfect call, no matter what anyone has to say.

And they do have so very much to say..

“Come on, ref!” A woman in a classic karen haircut and yoga pants stands up from her spot on the other end of the bleachers. You and Chance share a grimace as you listen to her begin to screech, demanding that Parker change his call for her daughter’s sake, “you think that’s fair!?” She screams, red in the face and pointing at Parker in a way that makes you growl under your breath, “That ball barely grazed her!”

Parker lifts up his mask to speak but you immediately stand up with your plastic megaphone before he can begin his own tirade-

“[Sass: 40] Shut up Sharon, what isn’t fair is God’s monthly curse of your existence on our lives!” You’re quickly pulled back down to your seat, “This is why your daughter pretends not to know you during pick u-” before your megaphone is also removed from your grasp from Chance. You hate when he crits on sleight of hand.

“Dude, you’re gonna get kicked out again,” Chance whispers harshly at you but your eyes go down to Parker and you swear there’s a tear of pride in his eye. 

Worth it..

“...she started it..” You whisper to yourself before leaning down to the row of seats in front of you, “pssst, hey, Hank 1, can I get another megaphone,” 

“Right here, babe!” The yellow suited hank beams as he offers up one of the dozens he brought with him.

“Do NOT give them another megaphone, Hank!” Chance shouts back. 

Damn his passive perception.

All the same, you’d hate to leave the game early and miss Dunc’s kids beat out the other team. Dunc is always so happy when he wins a game. He’s happy when he loses games too actually, you treat them all to ice cream regardless and the kids always come out having a good time. Dunc’s face when he sees a cookie and cream cone always makes your heart melt.

“Fine, I’ll play nice,” You say as you get comfortable in your seat. You can’t help but watch Chance watch Parker as the game continues, “though, I bet you wouldn’t have to watch me if you weren’t pretending like you’re not watching a certain someone,”

Chance flushes immediately, “I-I don’t know what you mean,” eyes quickly darting away from the umpire on the field.

“Critical fail on that deception check, Chance,” You smirk back. You reach over and place your hand on his, the cool of the bleachers dissipating under the warmth of your palms, “[Empathy: 50] why don’t you wanna roll for your relationship, ya big dork?” You ask him, nudging him again on the side with your shoulder, “afraid you won’t roll well?”

“You know me, babe,” Chance returns your touch, “I fall in love with people through careful, well thought out story beats-”

“Excellent lore and a good sense of closure,” You complete the thought for him, “except you and Parker have been in our house for almost 20 years, the story beats have been hit” you lace your fingers together, “think it’s time for closure?”

Chance looks to the side, his blush growing fiercer as he searches for the words. Luckily, his floundering for speech is neatly interrupted by a poke to your backside from something underneath the bleachers.

“What the-” You turn in your chair, sliding down some much to Chance’s curiosity as you look through the metal seats to see, none other than Keith standing in the shadows below with a sharp stick in hand. “Awww, hell no,”

There was Keith again, though, this time, he’d forgone his black suit and mask for a simple shirt and jeans. It looked odd on him though you can’t deny the way the shirt does something for the older man’s clear biceps.

“What the hell do you want?” You whisper angrily into the darkness, “I’m a little busy right now!”

“Yes, I know, mi arma,” He says with a bit of hesitation and sweat in his voice. God, he’s done something impulsive again, hasn’t he? “I was just in the neighborhood, laying low,” he clears his throat trailing off as he tries to look at anything but your cutting, still eyes, “and well, as you may recall, I had procured some means of….recreational stimulation last time we parted ways,”

“Keith, I am NOT selling you drugs underneath the bleachers, this is NOT a highschool drama,” 

“No, of course not, of course, I merely mean that in my original procuration of those recreational stimulants, I had, inadvertently, caught the eye of a rather notorious, how do you say, group of associates that would have preferred my procurement to be through them instead of through their unlocked safe that they left unattended between the hours of 4 and 9 and though I assumed said associates would have lost interest in this old silver fox after my passing, it appears that they caught wind of my miraculous return to society and wish to have a very detailed conversation concerning the immediate separation of my kneecaps from my lower body,”

You stare at him, blankly, mouth agape with your head between the bleachers.

“Keith, are you telling me you stole drugs from a mafia family and they’ve come to break your kneecaps and they’re hot on your trail so you thought you’d come to me!?”

“I require your car keys,"

“HOW DID YOU EVEN KNOW I WAS HERE!?” You feel like your whole body is set ablaze but you instantly calm down, knowing that there are a bunch of eyes staring at you right now and the last thing you want is attention.

“Your lover, Tom, told me your whereabouts,” Keith replies cheerily, “you should reeeally get him up to speed on who of us are your friends; once I mentioned I was a “dateviator situation” he seemed more than happy to leave me appraised of your life and location.” your face drops, “He says “love you, champ” by the way.”

“Dammit Tom,” You curse under your breath, “this is what the office bulletin board is for..” you look back to Keith, “but still, why me?”

“Well, I require a vehicle and when I learned of your whereabouts, I figured you’d probably give yours to me if you thought it would mean the mafia not showing up here?”

You again stare blankly as your mind processes what has just been said.

“So, you stole from the mafia”

“Si”

“And were going to steal from me,”

“Si”

“But then you had the idea to extort me instead using a little league game as hostage”

“You are correct, my friend,”

You give him your keys

“Gracias” 

“!&@%&$#!!”

“That is not appropriate language!” Sharon gasps and you yank yourself free from the bleachers, 

Without shifting your gaze, you instantly reach out and Chance just looks away as Hank 1 places a megaphone in your hand, “SHUT UP SHARON! Inappropriate was what I saw you doing in the Red Lobster parking lot, don’t start with me right now!” You throw yourself back down into your seat, groaning internally, desperately trying to let the migraine forming in your head subside.

Maybe it’ll be fine, you tell yourself, maybe Keith will escape the mafia, find a place to hide out and you can go get your car back later.

-THAT EVENING-

“This is Mary Anchor and I’m reporting live from a bird’s eye view from the sight of a massive explosion. Witnesses say a man described as a “silver fox” drove fully off a truly massive cliff attempting to jump a canyon and escape pursuit from several black painted vehicles without license plates, and the Coolsville police.” 

You are in your home, staring at the tv screen with your mouth agape…

“The unknown criminal, believed to be the same mystery assailant from the Valdiva-Flight 89 incident, sped straight over the edge of the cliff while giving the News 52 helicopter the middle finger. Upon driving off, the car soared for 3.2 seconds before smashing fully into the canyon walls. The car exploded on impact, certainly destroying anything within, I mean, just absolutely decimated. The suspect is believed to be dead and all important mementos within the vehicle are believed to be completely and utterly unsalvageable in any way shape or form,"

You’re not sure what an aneurysm feels like but if the vein on your forehead is any indication, you are fast approaching one, eyes blank and grip on your remote control threatening to shatter it to pieces.

If you bring him back this time, it'll be to kill him yourself..

Chapter Text

..It takes a lot of love to see someone strangling a man and still stand by them….

Dorian gives your door a wrap of the knuckles before taking a patient stance to wait for your response.

“Oh, Dorian,” at the sound of footsteps and a kind voice, the dapper, muscled doorman turns to see Hector and Diana approaching from behind. The young woman speaks first, happily greeting the man with a hug, “it’s nice to see you again; visiting H.O?” an obvious assumption, your house can quickly become a rotating door for all of your relationships. Your home is the central hub for 105 incredible people.

“Hello Diana, Hector,” He nods politely to both of them, “as you may both be aware, a certain key’s re-entered our lives,”

Hector speaks up at the mention of Keith, “y-yes! That reprobate has been bothering our human,” it’s rare for him to get this angry but Dorian and Diana understand it, “I came to check on them after what happened with their vehicle,”

“As did I,” Diana nods, “Memoria woulda come too but she is a drift in appearances with her new show; when she wades back to us from the distant shores, I want to give her a good update on my dearest friend,” 

Diana, Hector, and Dorian are the most protective of you. Of course, no one you know would want to hurt you but they seem to take the most direct interest in your well being and mental health. 

Diana especially knows your heart in ways the others simply can’t. Your connection is pure and honest, etched into the secrets that only you two share. She’s been there from the beginning, you grew up together, and with her comes understanding and a lack of judgement that makes you appreciate each other more each time you talk.

And it’s this very connection that makes her notice something is off.

“Hmm, H.O usually answers the door pretty quickly when they get a knock at the door,” No matter what, it usually takes you only a moment to come to the door, always happily surprised by a visitor. The group chat makes a note to share their location with each other in case anyone wants to hang out so they’re certain that you’re supposed to be home right now. Diana presses her ear to door, “Oh, I hear what’s going on now,” She nods, much to Dorian and Hector’s confusion, before walking over to the bay window overlooking your living room and taking a peak inside, “yep, juuust like I thought,”

“What is it?” Dorian asks, pensive as his stance gets rigid and strong,

“They’re killin’ a man” She says matter of factly

“WHAT!?” Hector and Dorian rush towards the door with their unified scream.

Inside the house, you hold the realized Keith in a headlock, choking him out as you lock your legs around his chest to keep him from rolling about anymore on the living room floor. You’ve made a mess of the living room, tables overturned and objects left ajar from all of Keith’s writhing and flailing while you beat his ass.

“Malaje!” You grunt as you tighten your grip around his neck.

Keith wheezes, “w-when d-did you -ACK- l-learn so m-much -grunt- Spanish?” , trying to find a way out of this ass whoopin only to hear your grunting voice in his ear,

“I have Spanish speaking friends and loved ones," you huff, "it’s called - grunt - going the - grunt - extra - grunt - MILE! ” You grunt as you refuse to loosen your grip on the bastard, “¡Que te jodan!”

“My love!!” Hector’s voice shocks you out of your anger but you don’t lose your hold, looking up at the three visitors with red on your face from your own frustration.

“Hey, you were supposed to warn me when someone came,” You say to the narrator as though he didn’t start narrating from outside for that exact purpose, “you know what, that’s fair,” you say, getting a warm feeling of agreement and appreciation for your understanding, “Thanks, voice of JD Bla-HEEEEY!”

Your kind words are cut short as you are quickly pried off of Keith by Dorian who holds you back. But the fight doesn't leave you and you kick about fiercely, getting one solid strike to Keith’s face before you’re moved out of range.

“Let me go,” You protest,  “I’m gonna kill ‘im and then dig a hole in the basement so he can be closer to hell where he belongs!”

“Calm down now, love, caaalm down,” Dorian soothes you, wrapping you up from behind with his big arms to hold you in place, “there there, we’re alright now, ye?” you give a few more kicks but eventually give up; you’re not getting out of Dorian’s hold so you might as well get comfortable swaddled in his big strong arms. When it’s clear you’re done fighting, he kisses you on the top of your head and loosens his bear hug to a simple circle of his arms around your waist.

You grumble but you don’t fight it, allowing yourself to fall back into Dorian’s comfortable, if not highly restrictive, embrace and letting your burning rage subside into a low, manageable heat of seething. 

“ Siiiiigh, ” You pat the arms wrapped around you, “Hey Dorian,”

“Hello love,” Dorian greets you softly before letting you go. You turn around and hug him back properly, before going over to your two other visitors and giving them a proper welcome as well.

“Hector, Diana,” You reach out to both of them, taking Hector’s hand and pulling him in for a kiss on his cheek before pulling in Diana for a hug, “What brings you all here?”

“We were worried, my love,” Hector doesn’t let go of your hand, giving you another squeeze before placing his other hand over top of yours, clasping it between his palms, “we know you’ve been dealing with….things, and….”

“And I know how you feel when someone blows up your car, or, I know how you would feel if that happened and so was able to figure out that that’s how you’re feeling now,” She places a hand on your shoulder, “but you know, hearing is believing and I do love hearing you so tell me: how are you feeling?” 

You go to say that you’re okay, but the obvious lie catches in your throat with one look from Diana.

“First, thank you guys so much,” You kiss Hector again before bringing them into a group hug, “And,” you sigh, “I am very frustrated,” You cut a look to Keith, “to the point of violence,” the rage builds with every word out of your mouth, “because I was dumb enough to think that this guy was worth helping…but now I realize he DESERVE TO BE DEAD!!”

Dorian again bearhugs you as you start kicking again, this time landing one right between Keith’s ribs before being yanked away.

“Hector, Diana, maybe bring our human upstairs to calm themselves,” Dorian says as he stands between you and Keith.

“Dorian,” you don’t want him to be alone with Keith.

“I’m fine, I promise, I think I’ve been over due for a chat wit me ole’ mate,” Dorian smiles at you, trying to make you feel reassured.

“Alright,” You take his hand and give it a squeeze before you take Hector by the hand and kiss his knuckles, trying to soothe his growing nerves “but I’m only going up there to find my tennis racket, come on guys,”  before taking Diana’s hand as well and speeding up the steps with both of them in hand. Diana shows slight concern at your mental state but Hector simply blushes dreamily as he’s dragged along, the warmth of your kiss on his knuckles radiating through the rest of his body. As you go, you whisper something, a little request to keep you posted.

You were hurt pretty bad by Keith’s actions but Dorian was hurt worse. At first lovers and then a long time friend and in all that time, had Keith ever really meant any of it? The man had no sense of shame, following every impulse no matter who or what got hurt because of him. It hurt so much the first time Keith was realized, having to sit there and watch as the jackass pushed him open without a thought, robbed the house blind and then laughed in your face -and his- at the idea of friendship or love ever coming into play.

It’s hard to imagine what’s going through Dorian’s mind right now.

“T-thank you, Dorian,” Keith rises to his feet, trying to catch his breath as he rubs at his throat, “I appreciate your-uh ” but Keith’s gratitude is cut short as Dorian grabs him by his shirt collar, Keith’ feet not even able to touch the ground.

“What in the blazes are you doin here, mate?” His grip is iron clad as he grits his teeth, staring Keith right in the eye,

“Aw, my dear friend,” Keith pats the door on the arm, “I was merely having a conversation with our mutual acquaintance,” He hesitates before continuing, feeling Dorian’s eyes darken at the mention of you, “they were kind enough to bring me back to the mortal world after a small traffic accident,”

“”Traffic accident” ain’t quite how I heard it”

“Yes, well, after that…unfortunate mishap, they still thought it right to give me a third chance, so we might have a proper conversation,” he looks around at the wrecked living room, “questions were asked, answers were given and, through no fault of my own, things became physical very quickly. Were you aware that they’d been taking a self-defense course with someone named Jon?”

“I was,” Dorian puts Keith down, letting his feet touch the floor, “glad it’s workin out for ‘em,” 

“Listen, my friend,” Keith reaches out to touch the doorman but Dorian avoids the key’s touch, “I know that you and I have a past but, perhaps you could speak a good word for me,” He takes a step forward and Dorian retreats again, “ we have so much history after all,” 

“None of it good,” Dorian is steadfast but can feel himself being guided into a corner. Keith’s touch has always been inviting, always been welcomed and the doorman can feel the slow rise of red to his cheeks as Keith continues to look at him the way he used to before he showed his true colors. “All you say are pretty words, nothin’ real about you,”

“But it is real, Dorian, when it's with you..” Keith insists, “la que tú me haces, only you can make me like this” this time his attempt at touch succeeds, his fingers running along Dorian’s arm,

And Dorian fidgets, first bringing up a hand to pull Keith’s away but stopping when he looks into those eyes, those kind eyes. Keith always knew how to unlock Dorian’s heart, string him along to the most rapturous melodies. And Dorian hates that he used to dance to them.

“There we are, my friend,” he takes another step forward, “mi alm-,”

“100% HYPER LIGER BLASTER!!”  

“Por qu-”

!!!WHAM!!!

Dorian looks surprised when a tennis ball cuts through the air at an insane speed, smashing into the ground right beneath Keith’s feet to bounce up and smash straight into the man’s crotch with a sound so sickeningly audible that it made the neighbors watching from outside wince.

“Found my tennis racket!” You say as you run up to Dorian, “sorry I left you alone with him,” giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as you take his hand, “you alright, did I get him?”

“Y-yeah love, “ He places a hand on your arm, chuckling as he smiles “you got im,” 

You look down at Keith, “dude, don’t you have any shame at all,” you ask, shaking your head in disappointment, “you keep trying to play this game with people and you’re just gonna hurt yourself; this is your second life, maybe make it count for something,” your sharpen into a glare, “cause I’m not gonna bringing you back next time,” before turning to walk away, only realize that they’ve placed a fucking big dent in Florence’s floor and freak out. “Oh god!! WHAT DID I DO!?”

As you spiral and try to fix the floor, blubbering about what Florence and Celia will say when they see what you’ve done to Florence’s past self, Keith slowly gets back up to his feet and wanders out.

You pay him no mind but you feel his eyes linger on you, as though he has something to say.

But instead, he simply leaves.

Chapter Text

“T-tony,” You blubber, “c-can you fix Florence,” you stand over Tony as he kneels on the ground. His flooring tools are sitting at his side and he looks over the dent in the floor with a concern that makes you riddled with unease. You really can’t believe you did that, letting loose that 100% Liger Blast just to get Keith of all people. That was so reckless and now Florence is dented! You could almost cry every time you look at what you’ve done.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tony looks up at you with concern. He hates seeing you like this and seeing him hating seeing you like this makes you mad at yourself, “it’ll be okay, promise; I’ll get her nice and cleaned up before ya know it. It’s me Tony, you know I got ya,” He winks at you confidently. Yes, you do know that he’s got you and it makes your whimpering falter for just a moment.

“H.O” Sam puts a hand on your shoulder, “it’s fine, remember, Florence is not the floor anymore,” 

“Y-yeah,” you try to be calm but the thoughts keep rushing forward, “but w-what if she dies or something and she becomes the floor and I can’t get her out because it’s dented;” That could be true; you don’t know how this dateviator technology works and your date2viators are prototypes! W-what if everything needs to be in pristine condition to be realized again!? Oh, god, Celia will be so upset with you. “ sniff m-maybe I should call Franklin again?” your hand shakes as you pull up your phone only for Sam to gently place a hand over yours and then slowly but firmly push it back down.

“You’ve left 17 messages with Franklin; I promise you it’s fine,” Sam doesn’t get the whole object thing; she understands it way better than Tom but it’s obviously something you can’t quite get without actually experiencing it. Still, she’s always so understanding of you, way more than you think she should be. Even now, she’s trying to comfort you, her bemusement tapered by deep concern as she tries to get you to calm down. The worry mixed in with her smile makes you feel a little worse but also makes you shake your head and try to loosen up the crazy building up inside you.

You called Florence -real Florence because she’s not currently the floor- and she was fine, Celia even confirmed. Besides, you hadn’t been particularly kind to your objects before and they didn’t seem any worse for wear when you realized them the first time around. This probably isn’t even the worst mark you’ve made to the floor in your house. 

It should be, but it isn’t.

“Hey, how bout you get outta the house, eh?” Tony stands up and places his hands on your shoulder, looking at you with soft eyes and a cocked grin, “you let ole’ Tone here git’cha right and just relax somewhere, okay?” He reaches for your hands, pulls them up to his lips and kisses your fingers, forcing a blush out of you that he cheekily grins at, “go out and when ya come back, I’ll have a surprise for ya,”

You look to Sam who just giggles as she shakes her head. She’s not helping you out of this, and clearly agrees with Tony’s sentiment, so you just let yourself chuckle before nodding in resignation .

You do have a scheduled meeting for today..

“So, hold up, she said you were being inappropriate?” Curt sits back, looking utterly bewildered,

“After what you saw her doing in the Red Lobster parking lot?” Rod adds, equally disgusted at the audacity,

“That’s what I said,” You sit on the park bench overlooking a scenery of frolicking folks on warm, green grass, the sun shining down on you in this mid afternoon rendezvous with your favorite collection of gossips for your scheduled hours of people watching.

“Ya know why she’s like that, right?” Tina takes a long sip from her cup, “mmm, it’s cause her kids can’t play for shit and she’s jealous, I need a little more here” she reaches her cup over to you and you pour her a refill from your thermos of totally-not-day-wine.

“Absolutely, she can’t beat Dunk’s kids,” Wyndolyn nods along as you pour her another cup as well, “remember when you saw her son eating sand,”

“Who could forget,” you open your lunchbox and pull out a tupperware container of snacks, you always make sure to prepare a little something for the group when they come out, “I had to turn Hank 0’s head away so they wouldn’t catch any bad habits,” 

“And ya know I saw her with Dave the other day” Wyndolyn utters and a collective “ooooooooo” wrings out in glorious harmony.

“Her mailman, Dave?” Curt asks,

“Her brother-in-law , Dave,” Wyndolyn clarifies and the “ooo”s grow ever stronger

“Ain’t he in jail?” Rod asks in disbelief,

“No, he just got out,” You remind them “but I thought they’d broken up after what happened in the-” and everyone says this part with you in unison,

“Red Lobster parking lot”

“Right,” Wyndolyn explains, “so you could only imagine my surprise when a little birdy told me she was seen getting the door slammed in her face at his new motel,”

“Oh my god, she got dumped by the ex-con she was having an affair with?” You ask, mouth agape.

“Damn, her kids can’t score-” Curt laughs

“and neither can she!” Rod finishes

You all bust out laughing, cackling as you let the sweet burn hit you.

“Y-yeah, w-what a dumb bitch,”

The laughter stops and you all slowly turn your heads to the newest member of your little gossip corner. 

Bobby sits, nervous and blushing as your eyes target them. They try to look away but they can feel your eyes and so they just try to stay silent. You were surprised when you first heard Bobby wanted to join you on these outings, the bartender didn’t seem like the kind but when you mentioned that fact, they seemed invested in proving themselves as a wise-cracking, sharp tongued and witty individual who could gossip with the best of them.

“Ye, Bobby,” you start hesitant but then actually nod along, “yeah, Sharon sucks,”

The others decide to drop it, shrugging as they nod along. Sharon does suck.

Bobby perks up at the nods around them and their embarrassed look turns to a growing, flushing smile.

“Hehe, y-yeah, sorry I had to show ya mooks my sharp tongue n all but people who mess with my gang aren’t welcome in polite conversation,”

“Are you ki-” You slap a hand over Rod’s mouth,

“Let them have this,” You give Bobby a smile and they smile back.

“So, is Keith still buggin’ you?” Eventually, Curt takes advantage of the lull in conversation to ask about you. You know they’re all worried, especially after the antics Keith pulled at the game, Dunk said he was fine but you couldn’t stop yourself from apologizing since you’re the one who brought Keith back. Just thinking about it puts a pit on your stomach.

“Uuuuugh,” you groan as you slowly sag forward, leaning over with your head in your hands

“Hey,” Rod shoots Curt a look. He whispers out the side of his mouth with gritted teeth “ we ain’t supposed to mention you know who,”

“My bad,” Curt puts a hand on your shoulder and quickly changes the subject “uhhh, did Tony fix your floor?”

“UUUUGGHH,” You sink a little lower, remembering what you did to Florence.

“What the hell is wrong whit’chu?” Rod’s glare only gets stronger,

“My bad, my bad!” Curt starts to rub your back with way more force than necessary.

“See, now this is why you don’t got a partner,” Rod scoffs.

“I have a partner,” Curt says as he gestures to you like a stage magician,

“WE have a partner,” Rod places his hand on your shoulder and pulls you closer to him on the bench, “cause you couldn’t pull somebody alone,”

Curt gasps, “I can pull, thank you,”

“You couldn’t pull a sleigh on Christmas,”

Curt goes to say something more but he feels you trembling under his hand, muffled sobbing as you let it out into your palms making him pull his hand back and share a look with Rod.

“Ah,” Rod and Curt look between each other, teeth clenched and nervous. They don’t know what to do, “w-we’re sorry!”

“H..h…hhh..”

“Baby?”

“H..hhhahAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” You sit up, belting out a laugh, crying from the rapture shooting through you, “Damn, Curt, he burned you worse than he burned that pot roast he tried to make last week,”

They look at each other in surprise and then share a smile before turning back towards you,

“Oh, I see you good enough to make jokes now?” Rod smirks, taking you by the chin to make you turn your head towards him,

Curt places a hand on your shoulder as he shoots Rod a shit-eating grin, “I don’t think that was a joke, that was just the truth,” 

“What, that I burned you?”

“No, that ya can’t cook!” You and Curt both share a laugh as Rod flushes, deep hues of brown blossoming across his complexion. 

You can’t imagine how but you feel better with every second that passes.

You begin walking back home, waving goodbye to the others as you do so. You know you’ll see Tina again when she feels like complaining on your couch and Wyndolyn always seems apprised of everything you do anyway so she doesn’t need a chat to be in the know. Bobby says they’ll be happy to “show you all the ropes” again if you’ll have them and you, of course, will and Curt & Rod left smiling at you and throwing shade at one another about who made you laugh more during the conversation. Thinking about it makes you smile even wider.

The park is quiet around you as you stroll, still leaves resting on the grass as the sunlight tilts over the horizon. You place your hands in your pockets and let this calm wash over you, your breathing timed to the wind.

But your calm is quickly cut short when you feel something you wish you could ignore.

A twinge of heat in your back pocket makes you sigh. You reach back and are already feeling the migraine coming when you set the date2viators on your face, pull out the rusty key you kept close just in case.

And see it again free of its golden shine.

How did this asshole die this time?

Chapter Text

“Okay, talk,” You walk down the sidewalk of your neighborhood, strolling angrily under the moonlight. The serene sounds of evening suburbia would usually be a soothing melody to you, grasshoppers chirping and the faint hum of the lamp lights hanging overhead. However, that melody is sullied by the sound of the loafers following behind you, your irritation deepening with each hefty footstep that cuts into the song of the evening.

Keith, manifested through his key again, trails behind you with that same dumb smile on his face, all confident and composed like he wasn’t just out getting hog wasted and sullying the streets with his most hedonistic debaucheries.

“You know,” Keith, begins, “I have seen many things made beautiful in the moonlight, but only you, mi alma, look as-”

You place a finger up, “No,”

“Que?”

“No, we’re not doing this,” You sigh as you continue walking, “not the back and forth and no flirting; I know you’ve done something stupid and have probably also done something that’s gonna force my hand and help you against my better judgement so let’s just get on with it,” You can’t keep playing this game. The sooner you deal with him, the faster you can go back to the people you actually care about, people that don’t lie or steal or throw you under the bus.

Keith grins seductively, “Aw, you wish to cut the foreplay already?”

You just give him a look as you stop in your tracks, “Alright, crawlspace it is,” before speeding up your pace.

“Okay, okay!” He cuts the shit immediately, “Madre mía, lighten up, aye?” You can be such a killjoy sometimes, it’s a quality to be admired when dealing with someone like Keith, “Okay, so, you recall my brief stint with the mob?”

“You mean where you snuck into their hideout, opened their safe, stole their drugs, attempted to carjack me at my own home to escape them then successfully carjacked me at a little league game by using said little league game as hostages only to go straight into a high speed chase ending in your fiery and deserved death because you tried to jump a gorge in a luxury van?”

“The very same,” Keith nods, “Though why someone with your kind of money drives a van in the first place is-”

“Well, I drive a lot of people aro-HEY, this is not about me!” you turn and glare at the key, “ Get to the point, please,”

“Well, while I was in their incredibly unguarded safe, I may have procured one or two other commodities that went beyond my original disclosure” Fuck, you knew it was going to be something this ridiculous.

“Okay,” You slide your hands into your pockets, “now for the part that makes me get involved,” You ask, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

 But when all you get is silence, you have to turn around to fully face the man, receiving a smirk for your troubles that makes you unnerved.

“Well,” Your brow furrows as you watch Keith reach into his pocket with a look like he’s preparing to arm himself for combat. At the sight of the candy in his hand, you feel your stomach lurch as you brace yourself for what he’s about to say. He pops it in his mouth and your empathy kicks in, telling you to get mad before he even speaks the words allowed.

“[Charm Candy]: It involves your familia”

You could kill him right now if you wanted…

You hate this, you hate this sooooo much.

As you walk down the cobbled steps of this dark hallway, you can’t help but curse at yourself for once again getting played along on Keith’s strings.

You are dressed in black. It’s a beautiful, sophisticated ensemble that feels like velvet across your skin finished with a black masquerade mask that does little to hide your annoyance at the situation you find yourself in. 

“We must stop meeting like this,” Keith coos as he meets you at the end of the passageway, taking your hand for that final step to make sure you reach your point safely. You’re sure he must look like a shining prince to the others who watch you enter into the large chamber of smooth marble and wine barrels.

“What did I tell you about flirting?” You shoot back as you let Keith guide you towards the refreshment table, looking down at your beautiful garb as you do so.

This was a gift from Barry and you’re having to waste it on Keith of all people. Going to a swanky swaray with an antisocial jackass on your arm is not how you wanted to debut your love’s great work but it does seem like Keith was right, you’d look out of place in anything out of your regular closet.

This party you’ve snuck into is one for the elites, held in an underground space that was once a massive wine cellar. Now the cobbled floors have been smoothed to a fine flat surface and the rows of wine barrels have been moved to sit against a wall. You can’t help but feel like you’re in a place that’s been gutted, the beautiful corpse of something old and rustic.

Of course, you’re not here to judge the architecture or design elements of this place. You’re here because the freshly realized jackass you’re with couldn’t settle for just drugs from the mafia. He also stole a precious bottle of vintage wine said to be worth millions and apparently, they’re much more pissed about losing the fine red than they are about losing anything else.

Mafias are weird.

“Aw, are you not having fun, mi alma?” Keith offers you a glass of wine from a server’s tray. His suit is finely tailored, cut to fit his physique with a long tail coat and white ruffles for accent that bring a refinement to him belying his ruthless nature. You’re certain he’s catching a number of eyes and you already feel terrible for the poor rich folks thinking they’ve found a man of class. Luckily he already had a mask so you didn’t need to bother fetching one for him. 

You shoot a look at him, “Of course not, what do you think is fun about this?”

“You liked charming the guards,” Keith offers, smiling at you cheekily, “and you are looking quite fetching all dressed in black,”

“I liked not getting kicked out before we started, mister ‘I’m the aid to the senator,’,” You say, deadpan, remembering the show Keith put on when you got to the door.

“What was it that you said to them again?” Keith teases,

“Must you-”

“Ah yes, it was ‘ you seem strong ’” he repeats, the older man replicating the sultry tone you’d put on, “‘ I bet you could take me anywhere you wanted right now ’ never seen someone blush from a line like that,” 

If you didn’t hate his guts, you would be laughing your ass off right now because you did feel ridiculous saying that. But, everything Keith does is calculated, and you refuse to let your guard down. Even now, you can still smell the sweetness of the Sass Candy he’s got in his mouth, the only thing keeping you from peering into him and seeing what he’s really after.

“Don’t try and make me laugh, jackass,”

Before Keith speaks again, you hear the pull of a violin. 

Your eyes go to the players on the small stage prepared and then to people draped in black finery making their way to the center of the room. 

You can already feel Keith’s eyes on you.

“Absolutely not,” You sigh,

“But you love dancing,” Keith says, offering up his hand, “and the more you move about, the less likely it is that someone from outside our little arrangement might recognize you, I doubt you want anyone to take notice of you after you went through all that trouble not to use your Valdivian connections to get into this party,”

You stare at his hand and then at him, gritting your teeth as you finally take notice of all the eyes looking at you, the loner at the refreshment table.

“Don’t get too handsy,” you relent and take his hand with a warning look in your eye.

“Oh, mi alma,” He pulls you close, whispering against your ear as he struts you backwards to the rhythm of the strings and accordion. “I would never,”

“ Sigh ” Your feet come together with a snap and your shoes clack against the smooth marble floor. The music of the tango playing you and your partner in

“Ser muy salado,” Keith places a hand on the small of your back before pulling you in, his coat tails swoosh and he whisks you off with his elegant maneuvering. You hold on to him, moving to and fro with each of his slight machinations, allowing him to guide you as you dance to the tight strings of the orchestra’s tune. He’s gentle but thorough, never letting you stray from his rhythm, never letting you out of his sight through the sleek masquerade mask that sits on his face.

In this sea of black masked faces, studded with jewels, you find yourself only able to focus on him and his eyes never leave yours. You’re waiting for him to break his facade and he waits for you to give in and fall for him; the loser of your bout has control and neither of you want to let the reins slip from your grasp. And so, you are entangled in one another, two figures dressed in black twirling along the dance floor. And though you think yourself too aware to falter, you can’t help but feel like a shadow puppet, dancing to the play of his fingers with each press of his palm reminding you how you fit so well in his hands.

“I did not know that you could dance,” there is a huskiness in his voice, low and lulling, like the hiss of a snake with fangs too close to your skin.

You smile happily back at him “Oh?” before jamming the heel of your shoe into the toes of his, “and I didn’t know you could go so long without talking, what a shame to break the record”

He grimaces at the pain but spins you anyway.

“Why so touchy tonight, mi alma?” Keith purrs. He just can’t turn it off, can he? Always playing an angle. He dips you and his hand slides lower, cresting against the shape of your ass and earning a grimace from you. He’s about a finger’s length away from being firmly kneed in the groin.

“Because I’m currently getting slew around by the world’s worst person just so I can spend my paycheck on a bottle of wine that I’m almost certain you will NOT be delivering to the mafia like you said you would,”

“If you’re so certain this endeavor is a lost cause, why assist me?” He asks, chuckling.

In an instant, you have him by his neck tie, pulling him down as he grins through the strangulation and buckles to be eye level with you.

“Because you didn’t give me a fucking choice.”

The only reason Keith is here, realized instead of under a pile of inanimal waste, is because he tactfully informed you that the last time he had a conversation with the mob, he promised that he’d return their precious bottle of wine to them himself and, that if he somehow couldn’t return it, that they were free to come to his “friend’s” home to get it from them instead. 

Once again, he’s holding what you love over your head to help him out and you know deep down he’s going to screw you over but you can’t even bring yourself to risk it. 

You’d risk anything before you risked that house.

“You know,” You say with a sly, coy smile, “ [Empathy: 100] a little honesty between us wouldn’t be so bad,”

“[Sass Candy]: Secrets would be better,” He muses, making a show of rolling the candy in his mouth before cheekily grinning at you. 

“You rat bastar-!!” 

Before you can release your frustrations further,  a smooth voice takes you by surprise.

“Might I cut in?” 

You turn, grip on Keith’s tie loosening as you see a splendidly handsome man approach. His white hair flows like strokes of electricity and the diamond blue of his eyes shines clearly through the white of his mask. He is a brilliant spark in your eyes, finely tailored white suit contrasting against your black ensemble, a clear strike of lightning in a sea of pitch and shadow drawing all eyes to him as though he is his own spotlight. 

Wherever Volt stands is always center stage.

As you look, stunned, he takes the opportunity to slip his fingers between your grip and Keith’s tie until his hand is clasped with yours and he’s leading you away, much to the former key’s chagrin.

“Volt,” You ask, a sultry smile spreading on your face, a bit of surprise and wonder in your voice “whatever brings you here?” you’re not that surprised though, you really can’t be, and you don’t fight the way Volt lulls you into his arms, easily drifting into the shape of his embrace. He always knew how to sweep you off your feet, a rolling storm cloud made to whisk you off to somewhere.

He returns your wondrous smile, “Now, now, Livewire,” He teases “You didn’t think we’d let you come to some random hole in the ground alone?” He slides his other hand along the small of your back, “my dance card’s always open with you, you know that,” When he twirls you, he pulls you in, your back against his front, his arms around your middle, and his lips at your neck,

You’re almost too charmed to be upset that they came when you told them not to. It doesn’t help that you can’t even be mad that someone snitched on you because you snitched on yourself.

Well, come on! You weren’t going to lie to the group chat -they’d be devastated- and you know an omission of the truth is just as bad and twice as cowardly. You had to let them know where you were going and who you were going with and why you were going there. The best you could do is tell them you’d be fine and not to worry but of course they came anyway. How could they not? If you’d heard that any of them were going anywhere with Keith, you’d be there in a heartbeat.

“No, no I guess I didn’t,” You sigh, letting yourself be held, “but please tell me that it’s just you,” you plea with a small groan, eyes closed and body resting back into Volt’s sway.

There’s a beat as Volt doesn’t respond.

“Volt?” you ask again,

Still nothing,

You open your eyes, mouth a straight lipped line as you stare forward, “.....Volt, how many of the people that I’ve fucked or fist bumped attending this party?”

Your eyes shift to the crowd and a number of people begin to stand out. People like a man with sweet, wheat gold hair done in a low ponytail with a pen and paper in hand, or a lean, jittery figure with short, colorful tresses who you are now realizing is still wearing his fucking umpire mask. How in god’s name did you miss that?

“BUT HOW!?”

“We charmed the guards,” Dear god, these are some charmable guards; you’re glad they didn’t get the dateviators before you because you’re pretty sure they would have swooned their way through realization on day 1. “Well, most of us did, we’re pretty certain Parker knocked one out and stole his clothes,” Your eyes immediately go back to the guy in the umpire mask whose suit seems two sizes too large,

“Vooooooolt,” you whine as you go limp. His grip doesn’t loosen and you begin to start being reluctantly swayed back and forth with him, “I told you guys I’d be fine, it’s not that big a dea-”

“Not that big of a deal?” and of course, Volt brought Eddie.

You look up and another masked figure is standing in front of you. You can’t pretend that you don’t recognize him though; his smooth black hair with traces of red and blue, his deep silver eyes and that look of worry and frustration that can only come from loving someone as reckless as you.

“Eddie-” He puts a hand up before you can even begin,

“Nuh-uh, don’t try and talk your way out of this one,” He takes you by the hand and pulls you out of Volt’s warm embrace. With Eddie, there’s no suave seduction, just tactful care and simplicity. He pulls you roughly but holds you carefully -one, two three, one, two three, one, two, three- trying to focus more on staying in rhythm and keeping you collected than showing off. He focuses so much that he almost forgets to start scolding you.

Almost..

“You went out with this asshole?” he asks sharply, “you know what he’s capable of, right?”

“I know, I know,” You’d be so much more exasperated if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie’s totally right, “but, listen; I can’t just let it lie this time,” you say, “Keith is-

“He’s blackmailing you, right?” Eddie says, cutting a dark look at Keith. You realize now that you’ve been dancing further and further away from the former key without noticing. When these two get together they just don’t fight fair. “Yeah, I know, the only reason you’d ever give him the time of day was if he had something over you,” You can feel Eddie’s anger rising and you know he and Volt are sharing a look over your shoulder, just waiting to give the command to do something they might regret.

“Eddie, look at me,” You cup his face and bring his eyes to yours, “I promise that I’m fine, that it’s going to be fine. I-”

“He’s threatening the house, H.O,” Eddies reminds you and you grit your teeth.

“I know, Eddie,”

“You love that house,”

“I….do,” You know that, of course you know that. He should know that too. Eddie is always a worrier, afraid of what might happen to you, to everyone. You know that he’s just scared and pissed, pissed for the both of you, but every word that comes out of his mouth is starting to make you feel a little suffocated. “Eddie…”

“You could have lived anywhere after you got that Valdivian job;” He takes you by the shoulders now, trying to get you to look him in the eyes, but you can’t, “gone anywhere, done anything but you kept that house and everything in it exactly the same because that’s where…that’s where we all loved you,” The walls are closing in on you, pressure building. “A-and he might throw that away but you’re getting tangled up with him anyway, without asking us for help?” there’s so much worry and hurt for you; it’s overwhelming, you can’t ignore his pain, you’re literally too empathic to not feel him right now and it’s making your heart race with guilt, “The more you let him in, the more he’s going to poison yo-”

“[Poise 100]: I GET IT, EDDIE!!!!” You yank yourself free from his grip and he stumbles a step back, falling over and landing on his butt as your breathing grows heavy from the tension threatening to strangle you. 

There’s another beat as Eddie collects himself. He shakes his head a little and then looks up at you, voice hitching at what he sees.

There are tears welling up in your eyes. 

“Goddammit, Eddie, I-I’m sorry,” You’re here because you know exactly how important that place is and he’s just beating you over the head with it, “y-yeah,” but you are fine, your breathing is well, your heart is racing but you are still here in this moment, “yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” good, that’s good.

“Livewire,” Volt places a hand on your shoulder, trying to calm you down but you instinctively side-step his touch.

“Volt, I-I’m sorry,” You whisper, breath hitching, gasping. Suddenly, everything is moving so fast. You close your eyes and try to come down, drawing on your SPECS, on anything, that might ease your mind. You lashed out and you shouldn’t have but why did Eddie have to be so-

“My friend,” Keith comes up from behind you and you turn to see him with a hand offered out to you. “Perhaps I can be of assistance,” You look at his hand and then at Volt who prevents himself from reaching out for you again. You slide your palm against Keith’s slowly, fingers running across his fine gloves. He turns his hand over and you let your fingers interlock with his.

He takes you away and you let him..

It’s not often that you feel bad these days. In fact, you usually feel pretty amazing. You have a good job, a good life, good people in it. Yeah, the worst person you’ve ever met is there too -and here now- but he’s usually dead so you’re pretty chill. But sometimes, something happens and you just fall so hard that it hurts.

That’s how you’re feeling now, like you’ve fallen and it really hurts.

“Fuuuuuck, why did I do that?” You can’t believe you lost your cool like that. Eddie’s probably furious with you and Volt can’t be happy either. Even knowing that, you still ran away. Now you stand near the wine barrels, hiding out in the corner as you try to make sense of what just happened,

“Sounds like you did it because he was being annoying,” Keith answers, the last person you wanna hear from “I saw how he was hounding you, battering you with questions, a terrible sight to find someone so fair, accosted by one they claim as a lover,”

“You’re asking me to beat you up, you know that right?” You say, looking up from the floor for the first time,

“You react quite strongly to these people, you know?” Keith doesn’t back off this time, staying in your space, closing in on you as you press yourself against the cobblestone wall for comfort.

“They’re my family,” you answer weakly, “my loved ones, I- you know how I feel,” You hate being like this. You can be so strong sometimes, so cool and witty and smart, hell might be the coolest, wittiest, smartest person out there right now because of your SPECS but goddammit, something goes wrong with one of your relationships and you don’t know what to do. You can always help them but its hard to help yourself, no matter how much you know you should be able to.

Suddenly, Keith places a hand on either side of your head, fingers framing your face with white gloves against the cobblestone wall you stand against.

“And yet, you don’t feel that way about me?”

He’s too close for your comfort but you’re not in the mood to fight right now, letting yourself sit in the smell of him. He has a smokey scent and you remember the marks on his key, some of them faint burns and rust. For a brief second, you think you might not hate it.

“Is that why you won’t cut this lover act out,” You ask, bemused and upset at the same time, a wry smile on your face. “You want to be part of my family?”

“Hehehe,” He leans in closer and his body sits just a hair’s breath away from your own, ruffles cresting against your skin as his lips fall closer to yours “would that be so wrong,”

“Would depend on the reasons,” You whisper,

“Mi alma,” His hand slides to fit into yours, “you know the reason,” and you tighten your grip as his fingers interlock with yours,

Before immediately twisting his arm the wrong way

“Owowowowowowowowow!!!!!” The bolt of pain Keith feels is burning and immediate as you put all your strength into the corkscrew motion of your arm.

“Does it look like now is the time to make a move on me,” You say with a cheerful smile on your face, vain pulsating on your head. You’re somehow happy to have someone to take this frustration out on, someone deserving of it for putting you in this fucking situation in the first place.

“Dammit, carajo!” Keith curses, “I was just going to try and make you happy!”

“By what, tongue-fucking my throat by the wine barrels!?” You may actually snap his arm off,

“OWOWOW,” Keith is forced to bend, twisting his torso with how you move his arm, “No, by telling you the truth about your familia!”

That snaps you out of your immediate rage,

You stop “W-what?” no longer twisting but not letting go, “about what?”

“I was just going to tell you, t-that I may have overexaggerated how involved I got you and your familia with the mafioso,” he says through a stung smirk, “you know how carried away I can be,” He’s not using a specs candy anymore, that much is true.

You can’t believe it, did he really….

“[Empathy: 100] Is that true?” You ask and as he nurses his arm, a little hunched over from the pain, he just gives you another pained smile and you feel a rage boiling up inside you as you tighten your free hand into a fist. 

He lied, he put you through all this on a lie, on a fucking lie! What kind of sick fucking freak does that shit!? Is he actually insane, is he truly so…malaligned and malicious!? 

You were hyperventilating and crying just a second ago but now all you feel is pissed beyond belief.

Your punching arm begins to tense up.

“Um, Livewire?” Volt appears just in time to watch you wind up but Eddie places a hand on his shoulder as he pulls his other half back away from the danger zone.

“Hehehe, you seem like you need some space, mi alma” Keith says with a nervous chuckle, “perhaps I should-”

WHAM!!!

The moon is out again tonight.

Keith sits on the steps outside the underground auction as you approach and take a seat next to him. He’s got a black eye and a cold pack placed over it, courtesy of Farya who you somehow also missed was among the crowd of people who followed you. You don’t know when they all got so sneaky but you’ll have to keep an eye out; you know how they like to do things for each other’s “own good”; if anyone should be plotting around here, it should be you.

“You here to strike me again?” He scoffs, clearly still raw about getting decked in the face. It’s not your proudest moment, well, it kind of is cause you had great form when you did it, but outside of the good form on that punch, you are not very proud (but you kinda are).

“Jury’s still out on that one” You look at your hands and sigh, “so, why’d you do it?” you ask

“Heh, is it not obvious?” Keith asks, “I was trying to spend more time with you,”

You sigh, already exasperated, “Not that, jackass,” rolling your eyes as you try to hold back from throttling this guy, “I know why you lied about involving me in your bullshit, I wanna know why you bothered coming clean?”.

You’ve thought about it a few times and it just doesn’t make a lick of sense. Keith gains nothing from being honest with anyone, unless he was lying back there about lying just to keep you focused on getting a bottle but the only way for him to resist a SPEC check is with those dumb candies and you always know when he’s using one so what the hell?

Keith looks at you, smiles and opens his mouth to spout a lie, something about loving you, wanting you to be happy, some garbled together nonsense that would make someone unfamiliar with him swoon. But you’re not a swooner, not anymore, and he’s finally starting to get that. So, instead, for the second time tonight, Keith tells the truth.

“You won’t give me what I want if you’re sad, mi alma,” Keith says, “all that caring you do for everyone, all that simping n shit, pendejo, it’s ridiculous honestly;” He expects a retort from you on that one but you just continue to listen, “I don’t understand how anyone could get caught up in their feelings THAT easily after one confrontation with a pile of wires,”

“Watch it,”

“HAHaha!” He laughs, “SEE!” he points at you, “THAT, that right there! You don’t find that crazy?” your glare doesn’t change, “nothing I could ever do to you would be worse than the most minor affliction I could target someone else with. You love loving and being with others so much that it probably hurts, I don’t understand it but I’ve heard the principal and it’s hilarious,” He sighs out with a chuckle on his lips, “So I figured, fuck, gotta save whatever you got going on with sparky and wire head or you’ll wallow and cry and won’t get me the-”

*clink*

“....wine,” He looks down and sitting next to him is the bottle he’s been after. He looks from it to you and is so genuinely shocked that you almost feel proud for making him go speechless for those brief, glorious moments. “The hell?”

“This is what you wanted, right?” You ask simply,

He again looks at the wine and then to you, brow furrowed, “You understand that I am not going to return this to the mafia, that I lied?” He asks, confused “that I will most likely be drinking this in the park, laughing to myself about how stupid you’re being right now?”

“If you don’t want it-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” He snatches the bottle up before your hand can reach it, “who said that ? Not I, my friend,” he looks at it greedily, licking his lips. But, then he just can’t help himself but ask, “but why?”

“Positive reinforcement, I guess,” you say with a shrug, “you told the truth and it helped me so now you have wine,” you gesture lazily, “and I guess, despite knowing intellectually that this was ENTIRELY your fault, I do, for whatever reason, feel bad for punching you, cause..” He’s from the house where they all loved you, “...ye, because of that,” it makes you feel stupid, how much you’re attached to them. 

But you can’t help it, it’s who you are, how you’re wired. You’re sentimental, and because you care about them, you care about every moment you spend with them and want to honor those moments. It’s almost superstitious honestly, like, if you’re not grateful for every little thing, it might all just slip away from you.

“I’ll never understand you,” Keith says, bemused before taking the bottle, “but free wine is free wine,” He takes the bottle and immediately busts the cork off with his teeth, taking a swig before letting out a long, satisfied sigh as the taste of the fermented grapes wash down his tongue. “Tastes even better than it felt back then,” he whispers,

“Wait, you’ve had this wine before?” You raise an eyebrow,

“Si, someone spilled it on me some 90 years ago, tasted great as a key, is even better now,” He relaxes back, “that’s why I stole it from the mob when I opened their safe,”

“Wait, what!?”

“Well, just because I didn’t throw you under the bus, doesn’t mean I don’t love wine,”

“Wait, that means you DO need to give that back, it’s the fucking MAFIA, Keith,”

He just shrugs, laughing under his breath, “What are they gonna do?” he asks, “kill me?” before offering you a swig from the bottle you just spent an insane amount of money on,

And the full on confidence in his eyes makes your shocked, tight lipped expression wobble into a shaky smile as you try so fucking hard to hold back.

“Hehehe, you pure asshole,” you breakdown with a smile as you take the wine from him,

“I told you not to make me laugh..”

Chapter Text

“So, please explain how this happened?”

Monique and Jean Loo sit across from you and you can tell they aren’t happy.

The three of you are in your kitchen and you have your head appropriately hung low as you sit slumped over and apologetic, the afternoon sun shining in through the large window overlooking the sink. You can only look at the floor right now, not daring to gaze upwards and peek at the looks your two loves are giving you or risk falling apart.

“Well,” You gulp, twiddling your thumbs as you try your hardest to avoid eye contact, “It was kinda like a…well, symbolic sort of thing..”

Jean Loo is struck afoul by your sheer audacity “Symbolic?” you can only imagine the look on his face, awestruck in the worst possible way and staring directly at you like you’ve truly offended him, “you spent four...MILLION DOLLARS..” you feel his face leaning closer till it’s just a breath away “on symbolism?”

God above, if only you could disappear right here and now.

“I’m so sorry,” you don’t really have an excuse for it. That much money on wine, on wine for Keith!? You didn’t even save some for the others as a gift. You really let the sentimentality get to you. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do any “dumb rich person stuff” when you became a partner at Valdivian but you got so swept up in the moment and now you’re paying for it.

“It is quite disappointing, H.O,” even Monique’s calm words are cutting at you, she must be even more upset than Jean Loo. Thank god she’s so cool headed because you’re not sure you could handle her yelling at you. “I believe we spoke about "frivolous spending” before, yes?”

“I promise that it was just this one time, okay?” You try to reason with them; afterall, you still have most of your paychecks saved up. You barely ever spend your Valdivian money anyway so you thought it was okay to dip into it but Monique was so appalled she called in Jean Loo for backup to give you the scolding you deserve, “I’m still in the black, right?”. 

This would be so much easier if they weren’t looking so good today too. Jean Loo and Monique are quite hot when they’re angry and dammit, it’s too distracting when you’re trying to think of proper excuses!.

Why you thought it was a good idea to mix financial advisory with two smokin hot accountants is beyond me.

Monique sighs, “yes, I suppose that this dalliance has not ruined your portfolio but your asset management is still appalling,” you knew it wouldn’t be that easy, “let us go over - again - how to better make use of your money,”

Monique walks out of the room and returns a few moments later, slowly rolling in a chalkboard with a prewritten lesson plan already etched out in chalk.

You already know that this isn't going to be a fun time but you kinda smile anyway. 

At least you're spending time with them.

“pant….pant…Give up..”

Papers and tax forms litter your living room, documents neatly piled in indexed folders and at least three laptops set out each cataloging your spending habits. All of them have been properly organized, stapled and processed and Monique’s chalkboard is covered in questions with smiley faces drawn next to them because you answered every question right and Monique believes in positive reinforcement.

You’ve spent hours proving to Monique that you’re not irresponsible with your money, SPECS and experience with her getting you correct answer after correct answer. In this battlefield of academia, however, there is one last challenge you must face and it’s been the most daunting task so far.

Jean Loo hits the beat!

“So you think that you can really walk and talk the talk/ Your receipts make me put the H and R in block/ Your taxes are praxis/ For making me axe this/ A fraudulent felony/ the numbers are tellin me.” 

He smirks as Monique’s beatboxing ramps up. You didn’t even know she could do this but you’re too busy focusing to give her the proper praise she deserves.

“I crunch numbers you fail to calculate/ Fools turn dependant when I retaliate/ Recheck your math, fix your path for prediction/ My know how has never been fiction” 

You take a step forward, cornering Jean Loo as you switch up the beat, rapid fire stream of rhyme beating down the toilet man until he’s backed into the wall as you hand him a completed document.

“Breaking your fraudulent claims periodically/ You want my taxes/ I plan them methodically/ Learn from my checkbook and get you some balance/ I’m not a fraud cause of one little dalliance!”

Jean Loo lifts his mic to his lips, smirking before his eyes catch yours. You're huffing as you stare him down, out of breath from what’s been 1 hour of going over your finances and 2 hours of crap battle that have frankly left your voice dry and your body tired. You’re both looking sluggish and with one final bead of sweat down his temple, and a little smile with an off glance look, Jean Loo sighs before lifting both of his hands in surrender.

“Alright, alright, I suppose you are not ze fraud." The Frenchmen relents "I concede mon lo-MMPH!” He’s instantly cut off as he's tackled to the ground. Your mics fall from your hands and clatter the ground, the harmonic ring mixing with the thud of his back against the floor as you wrap your arms around his neck and clasp your lips to his. “Mmmm,” 

Thank god you introduced him to toothpaste. You’re no longer assaulted by the flavor of an unwashed toilet when his lips fit to yours. Now you just get mint and cherries and the slick feel of his exploring tongue as you taste his shuddering breaths and savor the feel of his fingers running through your hair. 

“M-mon cheer,” his voice is husky when you finally let him breathe. He sputters whispers between each pause in your tongues interlocking before breaking the fit of your lips together to pant and blush at you,  “I see zat victory has gotten you quite excited,”

You chuckle against his lips, “I had to sit here and watch two gorgeous people for hours on end,” you sit up, hand pinning down his chest and framing either side of his waist with your knees as you look down at him, “and they didn’t let me hold their hand or kiss them once because I was in trouble,” You chuckle as you lean down until your lips are at Jean Loo’s ear, “I’m not in trouble now though, am I?”

“Monique is-”

“Too far away,” You finish his thought perfectly before looking over to your former stash of cash, “when she should be over here with us”

“sigh” Monique attempts to put on a feigned look of annoyance at the impromptu suggestion but it’s clear by the deep shades rising to her tan cheeks that she’s not against the idea at all. A smile slips onto her face as she stands to her feet and reaches for the buttons of her blouse,  “I suppose a reward wouldn’t be too out of  the question,” she giggles a little and you begin to pull up your fabulous red shirt,

Oh, right, THIS is why you thought it was a good idea to mix financial advisory with two smoking hot accountants.

knock knock knock

“Hmmm?” You sit up at the sound of someone knocking on your door, Monique and Jean Loo lying by your side, your shirt unbuttoned and your body fresh from doing whatever it is you did when we faded to black. A thing that neither you or I will be going into detail about here.

And thank goodness too, the age rating needs to stay exactly where it is.

“Hmph,” You smile teasingly, “You didn’t have a problem talking about Parker wanting to ”

The DOOR, H.O 

“Fine, fine,” You finally get up, murmuring something about “prudes” before putting your focus towards whoever’s outside, “I’m coming!” As you walk over to the door, you adjust yourself, fixing your slightly disheveled clothes to make yourself look presentable before gently opening it to reveal “....Eddie?”

Yes, it’s Eddie. Eddie, standing in front of your doorway, Eddie with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, Eddie looking like he hasn’t been having a great time since last night. You look down at the flowers, they’re all your favorite kinds, a beautiful arrangement that’s clearly been picked out just for you. Eddie knows you so well, and he treats you even better. But as lovely as they are, you’re not quite focused on them as much as you are on the look Eddie has on his face.

“Hey, spark,” He looks tired, like he’s been up all night and hasn’t had a moment’s peace. You’ve seen this look a number of times back when he was still running around trying to keep the Breaker Box intact, a mix of guilt and exhaustion you instantly wish you could relieve. It’s difficult to see, especially since you instantly recognize the reason why he looks like this.

“Eddie, please tell me that you didn’t come here to apologize,” You still can’t believe what you did the other night, hurting someone you care about like that. Eddie, of all people, someone who’s just looking out for you, “because, ya know, it was my fault for-”

“Are you kidding?” Eddie cuts you a look that stops you right in your tracks. There’s no anger, just shock, shock and concern, “you think you need to apologize to me?” he takes a step forward, entering your space again only to retreat from you when he realizes what he’s doing, “I’m the one who…” he takes a breath, “I’m sorry for freaking you out like that, I know you love the house more than anything, it’s the one thing that makes you panic and without thinking, I…”

“No!” You take his hand, “I’m the one who should-” but then your eyes catch his and fucking Keith’s voice rattles your brain as you stop yourself from saying another word.

What are you doing? 

You take a second and actually look at Eddie, Eddie who’s trying to make things right while you’re getting in his way because you don’t want him to think there’s anything he ever needs to apologize to you for. Even though you know he’d hate to hear you think about yourself that way.

Maybe Keith was right -as hard as that is to admit- and you really are being laughably ridiculous.

“God, I’m dumb,” you chuckle wryly as you ease your grip on his hand, “okay, let’s not fight over who sucks worse. I’m gonna say thank you for these,” You take the bouquet from him, “but, I still wanna say sorry; I don’t like hurting you, even if it’s only a little,”

Eddie smiles softly at that, it’s a tired grin that’s full of relief. He cups your face with his hand and brushes your cheek with his thumb as you instantly let yourself lean into his touch. His hands are rough but so gentle that you feel like you could fall asleep in the trace of his fingers.

“I get scared,” Eddie admits. It’s simple but you’ve never needed a lot of words between you. 

You smile, “I get..terrified,” before looking down, “so, ya know, I get it but..” you try to find the right words, the unaccusatory words, “but, maybe trust me a little? Well, no, that’s not fair, I know it’s not me you don’t trust but, maybe trust that I can take out the guy you don’t trust?” You try to flex your arm, “you know I can handle him if I gotta.” You’re still proud of that punch you gave Keith, even Eddie seemed impressed when he saw it. That poise is no fucking joke, that’s for sure.

“I’ll try,” Eddie says, “it’s just hard, thinking about what could happen if it turned out that I could do something for you when you needed me to, but didn’t,”

You laugh as you grab him by the tie,“We’re way too much alike,” before pulling him in for a kiss.

..CREEEK....

Your ears flutter at the sound of something up stairs. Eddie’s eyes move with yours and you both look towards the attic.

“Don’t tell me,” Eddie starts, breaking the kiss with a clear pout on his face,

“No, you’re probably right,” You sigh, “but I think I can handle it,” before turning your head and mumbling under your breath “that geezerly cock-blocker..,”

When you return your gaze to Eddie, you see that he’s looking off to the side, a little frustration bubbling to the surface. He wants to be involved so badly but fights his urges and takes a step back away from your door. 

“I guess I should go,”

“No,” You say simply, holding his tie firmly as you pull him into your house “I want you around in case something goes wrong,” you smile at the man who returns your gesture, “plus, I kinda wanna go get dinner after this, if you’re okay with that?” You think about the two already inside, “or maybe I can cook for you instead?”

“I’d like that a lot,” Eddie says. He takes your free hand and raises it to his lips, his tie slipping from the startled grip of your other hand as your smile turns dumb and goofy.

You gulp as you stammer, “I-I’ll be down in just a second, okay?”

And then you head upstairs.

“Do I wanna know why you’re climbing through my second story window?” Keith freezes as you open the door to your former attic. 

The once dreary space has since been redecorated, renovated into an attic gym. A new floor covering, a fresh coat of white paint and the renovation had the space looking brand new and sporty. It was tiring and grueling work, mainly because you’re terrified of moving anything in your house, but it had to be done. You have so many people who stay over that not having a guest room was kind of out of the question. Still, the changes, while taking far longer than they should have, came together pretty nicely

The only change you’re having a real problem with now is the new addition of a thief crawling in through the window, one foot on the ground and one foot hanging outside.

The moment he takes notice of you, Keith instantly strikes a pose, taking a seat on the windowsill and lying back as he gives you a wink. He’s dressed again in the white shirt and jeans he appeared before you in while at the little league game. You’re not certain if that’s an ill omen but you try to shrug it off.

“Well as always, it’s to see you, mi alma,” He takes a look at your state of partial undress and smirks, “I see your audit went well,”

“And I see you like to lurk outside of people’s windows,” You step inside the attic, casually nudging the door closed behind you with your foot, “the front door’s unlocked, ya know”

“I would hate to get in the way of your little meeting with the jartible you call your love,” When your coy smile turns into a sharp look, he backs off, swinging his other leg over to fully land in the room and begin strolling towards you “sorry, I forget how sensitive you are about your “familia”, I don’t mean to upset you,”

“And yet you poke anyway,” you close the distance between each other in a matter of seconds, “if you keep going like this, I’m going to think you like getting hurt,”

“Maybe I just like getting hurt by you?” He places his hands on your shoulders, guiding you backwards until you feel your back up against the door. You don’t fight him, you don’t really think Keith is dangerous. Maybe its because of the times you’ve fought already, or because you know he’s not someone you could ever really care about, but there’s never fear in how you interact with Keith when its just you and him. 

Neither of you have anything to give and so you have nothing to lose.

“Tell me why you really came here,” You fold your arms as he looms over you, your body heats intermingling. There’s so much space in this attic but Keith has cornered you into this little nook of it. He frames you with his body, blocks your vision so he is all you see. You can’t help but think that this must be how Dorian felt, framed and blinded and cornered by a charming smile. “Because we both know it’s not because you care,”

“But I do care, I’ve never lied about that, just about what,” He smirks and you let out a cool, mocking laugh and even that feels like it’s too generous of a response because Keith’s grin grows wider as the he’s already achieved something simply by you letting him remain here in your presence, “We had fun at the gala, didn’t we?” He asks, “you and I, together; dancing, laughing,”

“Lying,” You cut in,

“Confessing,” He retorts and your face softens because yes, he did eventually tell the truth and yes, he did, oddly, do it for you in his own weird way. “We could do more of that?”

“Oh, you have more things to confess to?”

“If I did, would you want to listen?” He closes in on you, like he did at the party, whispers like the hiss of a serpent, eyes like a predator waiting for you to offer up your neck. You think he’ll make a move on you again, try to take your lips in a kiss or more. 

But instead, he backs away.

“Is it so odd to think that we could be friends, mi alma?”

At that question, your gaze sharpens on him again, “You put my family in danger,”

“Not, really, right?” Keith says, “it’s not as though there was actually anyone at that game, and as I told you, I didn’t give up you or your familia at the party,” He smiles “and besides, would it be so bad to have someone around who you could be free with?” with a slight bow, he reaches out his hand, waiting for you to take it, “Someone who you can’t burden and who can’t burden you?”

You stare at him and think about how he reached out without hesitation, even after what he got last time. His confidence is hilariously aggravating and you try to hold back the laugh that wants to slip out of you but you just can’t and you hate yourself for it because, fuck, he’s the worst and he shouldn’t make you laugh but he does.

“You just want a friend?” You eventually say, hand on your face as you think about actually trying this whole thing again with him.

“I’m lonely, mi alma, no one else comes back,” You can see why, “I don’t think I can stand anyone else either,” you’re in an exclusive club, yay.

You sigh and go to turn him down, but then you look around the room, this special room, and remember something important that has you nodding as you take a hesitant step forward.

“Hm, why not,” 

You take his hand.

“See, was that so hard?” The second you take it, he pulls you forward before you can even make use of your poise and wraps you up in his arms, hugging you up against his body and forcing you to breathe him in, “you and I, mi alma, this is the start of something good, I can tell,” he snickers to himself, feeling clever and seductive. 

He’s confused though, when, without warning, you readily return the gesture and wrap your arms around his waist. 

“Finally returning my affections?" Keith chuckles,

“Just letting you know that I still appreciate what you did for me yesterday, don’t get this confused with affection,” You say as you lay your head against his chest.

“Ah, then we ARE friends,”

“Sure, we can be friends, if you can keep from lying to my face,” You offer,

Keith thinks about it for a moment, “Hm, very well, in honor of our new friendship, I would like to make another confession,”

“Is it that you came through this window because you didn’t know I redecorated and thought my safe was still in here?” You ask sweetly, smiling as you close your eyes.

Keith freezes in place, “Ah, you knew that?”

“Mmmhm,” You hum.

“You are going to suplex me now, aren’t you?”

“Ye,” your arms tighten around his waist, “yeah I am,”

Keith just nods to himself, “In honor of our new friendship, may I ask that you aim for the yoga mats?”

“I’ll do my best..”

In the living room below, Monique, Jean and Eddie sit on the couch together, chatting about their respective days when they hear the barely audible ‘whoosh’ of a SPECS option being taken before jumping at the much more audible sound of a man being suplexed so hard that, were there a yoga mat to cushion the blow, it would do little to mitigate the damage. 

! ! ! W H A M ! ! !

“Zould we be handling zat?” Jean asks,

“Nah,” Eddie says with a warm smile,

“I think they’ve got it for now,”