{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll","title":"Devil Doll's Journal","subtitle":"there's nothing we can't face...except for bunnies","author":{"name":"Devil Doll"},"link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"service.feed","type":"application\/x.atom+xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom","title":"Devil Doll's Journal"}}],"updated":"2015-12-31T23:03:28Z","entry":[{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:844580","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/844580.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=844580"}}],"title":"Year End Survey","published":"2015-12-31T23:03:28Z","updated":"2015-12-31T23:03:28Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"year end survey"}},"content":"This year was largely miserable and exhausting through the middle ten months, with a couple nice things on the bookends.<br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><b>1. What did you do in this year that you'd never done before?<\/b><br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.tumblr.com\/post\/123510236031\/earlier-today-i-broke-the-cardinal-rule-of-free\" target=\"_blank\">Rescued some guinea pigs!<\/a> Touched the Stanley Cup! Saw a play at the Shakespeare Theater in Chicago! <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.tumblr.com\/post\/113784045736\/st-patricks-day-dinner-there-was-much-debate\" target=\"_blank\">Ate cheese I made myself, including milking the goat!<\/a> <a href=\"http:\/\/okaybutlistenpodcast.tumblr.com\/CompleteEpisodeList\" target=\"_blank\">Started a podcast!<\/a><br \/><br \/><b>2. Did you achieve your goals, and will you make more for this year?<\/b><br \/><br \/><b>Goals for 2015:<\/b><br \/>-hold a plank for four minutes <br \/>-keep my open browser tabs below 100 at all times<br \/>-organize the hutch in the kitchen<br \/><br \/>I achieved none of these things, but I survived the year, and I'm calling that good.<br \/><br \/><b>Goals for 2016:<\/b><br \/>-write write write <br \/>-keep my open browser tabs below 100 at all times<br \/>-organize the hutch in the kitchen<br \/><br \/><b>3. Did anyone close to you give birth?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Nope.<br \/><br \/><b>4. Did anyone close to you die?<\/b><br \/><br \/>(Does a 15 year friendship count?) An elderly family friend passed away. <br \/><br \/><b>5. What places did you visit?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Illinois (Chicago and Rockford), Missouri, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico. Those last few were part of a trip where I went to New Mexico for the wedding from hell. (My cousin married a heinous cunt. It was pretty special.) During that trip I visited the <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.tumblr.com\/tagged\/american-quarter-horse-hall-of-fame\" target=\"_blank\">American Quarter Horse Museum.<\/a><br \/><br \/><b>6. What would you like to have in 2016 that you lacked in 2015?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Answer from last year: a cast iron frying pan.<br \/><br \/>I didn't get it.<br \/><br \/>For 2016 I would like more free time and more creative time than I had in 2015, which, honestly, shouldn't be hard to do. It's a low bar. *knocks on wood*<br \/><br \/><b>7. What date from 2015 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?<\/b><br \/><br \/>February 13th--the vet visit of bad news. (<a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.tumblr.com\/post\/111001488426\/some-bummer-news-on-the-logan-front-hes-got-a\" target=\"_blank\">here<\/a> and <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.tumblr.com\/post\/111425763036\/we-got-the-full-vet-report-today-and-it-didnt\" target=\"_blank\">here<\/a> and <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.tumblr.com\/post\/119331794171\/i-am-worried-about-logan-how-is-he\" target=\"_blank\">here.<\/a>)<br \/><br \/><b>8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Making it through.<br \/><br \/><b>9. What was your biggest failure?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Losing my patience with Logan when he misbehaved, because I was exhausted and stressed. He behaved terribly at times, and dangerously\u2014for himself and for me\u2014but he didn\u2019t understand what was happening. We were both frustrated and miserable, but unlike him I understood why it had to be that way.<br \/><br \/><b>10. Did you suffer illness or injury?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Unlike 2014, I have not been to the doctor once in 2015, except for routine preventative stuff. Logan, on the other hand, suffered a very bad injury and it turned everyone's lives upside down for ten months. <br \/><br \/><b>11. What was the best thing you bought?<\/b><br \/><br \/>NHL Center Ice.<br \/><br \/><b>12. Who was awesome this year?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Laura Stone, musesfool, chicklet_girl, dizzzylu, maichan, bleep, artemis2050...I bet I\u2019m forgetting a bunch of people.<br \/><br \/><b>13. Who wasn't awesome?<\/b> <br \/><br \/>Donald Trump. What's up with THAT guy? (Don't answer.)<br \/><br \/><b>14. Where did most of your money go?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Vet bills, car repairs, and gas to get back and forth from the barn every day for months on end.<br \/><br \/><b>15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Seeing the Stanley Cup! Seeing artemis2050 in Chicago!<br \/><br \/><b>16. What song will always remind you of 2015?<\/b><br \/><br \/>\u201cAlready Gone\u201d by The Eagles<br \/><br \/><b>17. Compared to this time last year, are you:<\/b><br \/><br \/>i. happier or sadder? happier<br \/>ii. thinner or fatter? fatter<br \/>iii. richer or poorer? poorer<br \/><br \/><b>18. What do you wish you'd done more of?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Being happy.<br \/><br \/><b>19. What do you wish you'd done less of?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Crying.<br \/><br \/><b>20. How will you be spending New Year's Eve?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Home alone, which is my tradition. (Start as you intend to go on, and all that.) <br \/><br \/><b>22. Did you fall in love in 2015?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I fell back in love with hockey.<br \/><br \/><b>23. Did you try any foods you've never eaten before?<\/b><br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.tumblr.com\/post\/134230083331\/thanksgiving-weekend-1-i-did-a-thanksgiving\" target=\"_blank\">Ethiopian food!<\/a> <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.tumblr.com\/post\/122894516551\/photo-roll-1-a-big-bowl-of-mango-and-raspberries\" target=\"_blank\">Cotton candy grapes!<\/a><br \/><br \/><b>24. What was your favorite TV program?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Fargo.<br \/><br \/><b>25. What made you laugh in 2015?<\/b><br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/www.russianmachineneverbreaks.com\/\" target=\"_blank\">RMNB<\/a><br \/><br \/><b>26. What was the best book you read?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I read one book this year, <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.tumblr.com\/post\/134610308056\/bitter-springs-by-laura-stone\" target=\"_blank\">Bitter Springs<\/a>. And you should read it, too.<br \/><br \/><b>27. What was your greatest musical (re)discovery?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Chris Stapleton.<br \/><br \/><b>28. What did you want and get?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Logan\u2019s leg is finally healed. He\u2019s not back to work yet, is still rehabbing, but we were able to back off on some of the treatments and no longer have to be at the barn every day.<br \/><br \/><b>29. What did you want and not get?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Support from people who mattered to me.<br \/><br \/><b>30. What was your favorite film of this year?<\/b><br \/><br \/><i>Behind the Candelabra<\/i> (I think it\u2019s from last year, but I finally saw it this year.) <i>Mad Max: Fury Road<\/i><br \/><i>Magic Mike XXL<\/i><br \/><br \/><b>31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I turned 44 and I went out to dinner with my family.<br \/><br \/><b>32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Sudden influx of wealth.<br \/><br \/><b>33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2015?<\/b><br \/><br \/>\"Affordable.\" (I really need to replace this question.)<br \/><br \/><b>34. What kept you sane?<\/b><br \/><br \/>My friends who were so understanding and supportive and helpful.<br \/><br \/><b>35. Which celebrity\/public figure\/fictional character did you fancy the most?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Eddie Lack, Tom Wilson. <br \/><br \/><b>36. What political issue stirred you the most?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Same crap as always. Can we keep the religious extremists out of our government already?!?!<br \/><br \/><b>37. Who did you miss?<\/b><br \/><br \/>My grandpa. (Still, two years later.)<br \/><br \/><b>38. Who was the best new person you met?<\/b><br \/><br \/>My new barn BFF, Terri.<br \/><br \/><b>39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2015<\/b><br \/><br \/>Finding out who is still interested in being your friend when you are fucking miserable is invaluable. Don't be afraid to act on this knowledge.<br \/><br \/><b>40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.<\/b><br \/><br \/><i>We are never ever getting back together.<\/i><a name='cutid1-end'><\/a><a name='cutid1-end'><\/a><br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/689200.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/67462a47e069c46cf3450b4dc0025f38cc50bdfe545457f53224fd209085f0d5\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW0D8A7lBv:fTUs3fwGKfNuH3ynDiHZsg\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:844419","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/844419.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=844419"}}],"title":"Year End Survey","published":"2014-12-31T20:45:32Z","updated":"2014-12-31T20:45:32Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"year end survey"}},"content":"IT'S ALIVE.<br \/><br \/>And it's that time of year again.<br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><b>1. What did you do in this year that you'd never done before?<\/b><br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.tumblr.com\/tagged\/italy%202014\" target=\"_blank\">I went to Italy!<\/a> For free! The aunt who pays for me to travel with her chose that for our trip this year. It was so beautiful! <br \/><br \/><b>2. Did you achieve your goals, and will you make more for this year?<\/b><br \/><br \/><b>Goals for 2014 were:<\/b><br \/>-hold a plank for four minutes <br \/>-update LJ\/DW once a month<br \/>-work on that writing thing I've been avoiding for a year<br \/><br \/>I was on schedule to make the four minute plank by the end of this year (I was at two minutes in June) but then I had surgery on my hip and was unable to do any planks at all for for several months, so I lost a lot of ground.<br \/><br \/>I completely failed on the LJ\/DW updates, partly because LJ made some kind of code change that made it almost unusable for me for about six months there. And then when it finally was working again I really didn't have much to say. At this point I've accepted that this is the place where I post my end of year survey and that's pretty much it.<br \/><br \/>I did not work on the writing thing. :(<br \/><br \/><b>Goals for 2015:<\/b><br \/>-hold a plank for four minutes <br \/>-keep my open browser tabs below 100 at all times<br \/>-organize the hutch in the kitchen<br \/><br \/><b>3. Did anyone close to you give birth?<\/b><br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.tumblr.com\/post\/99682090631\/my-nickname-for-this-smiley-little-butterball-is\" target=\"_blank\">My friend Price and his girlfriend had a super adorable baby.<\/a> <br \/><br \/><b>4. Did anyone close to you die?<\/b><br \/><br \/>My great-uncle Roman. He was very old and it was expected, but it was still very hard on the family, because he was everyone's cheerleader.<br \/><br \/><b>5. What countries did you visit?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Italy!<br \/><br \/><b>6. What would you like to have in 2015 that you lacked in 2014?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Answers from last year: financial stability, snowshoes.<br \/><br \/>The finances have been better. Still no snowshoes. I'm gonna give up on those. <br \/><br \/>For 2015 I want a cast iron frying pan.<br \/><br \/><b>7. What date from 2014 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?<\/b><br \/><br \/>The day I saw the Leaning Tower of Pisa. It was fucking awesome.<br \/><br \/><b>8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?<\/b><br \/><br \/>The long, painful rehab process following my hip surgery.<br \/><br \/><b>9. What was your biggest failure?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I didn't start working on Christmas stuff nice and early like I normally do, and then was rushed and exhausted.<br \/><br \/><b>10. Did you suffer illness or injury?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I had not one but two surgeries in 2014, and I'm glad I opted for both and they improved my quality of life by a lot. In February I had an endometrial ablation, to get rid of my horrible heavy periods, and it worked like a charm, and I had a super easy recovery (I went hiking the next day!). In June I had surgery to repair damage to my hip from an old horseback riding injury, and my recovery from that took a lot longer, but was also very easy and fast, according to the physical therapists and doctors. <br \/><br \/><b>11. What was the best thing you bought?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I'm drawing a total blank. <br \/><br \/><b>12. Who was awesome this year?<\/b><br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.tumblr.com\/post\/102099487141\/you-guys-the-most-amazing-thing-happened-this\" target=\"_blank\">Artemis2050!<\/a><br \/><br \/><b>13. Who wasn't awesome?<\/b> <br \/><br \/>I guess this year I'll say the police. Cripes.<br \/><br \/><b>14. Where did most of your money go?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Medical bills (mine and Logan's).<br \/><br \/><b>15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Walking on my own two feet again, after being on crutches for a month following my surgery. It was pretty sweet.<br \/><br \/><b>16. What song will always remind you of 2014?<\/b><br \/><br \/><a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=7PCkvCPvDXk\" target=\"_blank\">All About That Bass<\/a> by Meghan Trainor.<br \/><br \/><b>17. Compared to this time last year, are you:<\/b><br \/><br \/>i. happier or sadder? happier<br \/>ii. thinner or fatter? same I think<br \/>iii. richer or poorer? richer<br \/><br \/><b>18. What do you wish you'd done more of?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Writing.<br \/><br \/><b>19. What do you wish you'd done less of?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Wasting time online.<br \/><br \/><b>20. How will you be spending New Year's Eve?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Home alone, which is my tradition. (Start as you intend to go on, and all that.) This year I'll be eating escargot. <br \/><br \/><b>22. Did you fall in love in 2014?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I sure did. <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.tumblr.com\/post\/100984238876\/pumpkinsterek-the-80s-hoechstache-saga-so\" target=\"_blank\">With Tyler Hoechlin's glorious mustache.<\/a><br \/><br \/><b>23. Did you try any foods you've never eaten before?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Tripe! (NOT A FAN.)<br \/><br \/><b>24. What was your favorite TV program?<\/b><br \/><br \/>The Roosevelts.<br \/><br \/><b>25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I do but for the sake of avoiding wank I'm not going to name them. :)<br \/><br \/><b>26. What was the best book you read?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I read so few books now. It's all just fan fiction. I did read a book or two. Probably something by John Sandford.<br \/><br \/><b>27. What was your greatest musical (re)discovery?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Pink Martini<br \/><br \/><b>28. What did you want and get?<\/b><br \/><br \/>An iPad!<br \/><br \/><b>29. What did you want and not get?<\/b><br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.tumblr.com\/post\/105401334216\/oh-nuthin-jus-cryin-in-target-because-i-cant\" target=\"_blank\">A Tinsel Pig.<\/a><br \/><br \/><b>30. What was your favorite film of this year?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Big Hero 6, Guardians of the Galaxy, The Maze Runner.<br \/><br \/><b>31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I turned 43 and I went out to dinner with my family.<br \/><br \/><b>32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Sudden influx of wealth.<br \/><br \/><b>33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2014?<\/b><br \/><br \/>\"Affordable.\" (I really need to replace this question, too.)<br \/><br \/><b>34. What kept you sane?<\/b><br \/><br \/>My friends were an invaluable support after my surgery--lots of care packages and visits, and gifts of DVDs etc to help fill the time while I was bedridden. They were awesome.<br \/><br \/><b>35. Which celebrity\/public figure\/fictional character did you fancy the most?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I'm still creepily enamored with Tyler Hoechlin. <br \/><br \/><b>36. What political issue stirred you the most?<\/b><br \/><br \/>We finally got marriage equality here in Wisconsin, and my sister got married! \\o\/<br \/><br \/><b>37. Who did you miss?<\/b><br \/><br \/>My grandpa. :(<br \/><br \/><b>38. Who was the best new person you met?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Huh. I can't single one out.<br \/><br \/><b>39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2014<\/b><br \/><br \/>Don't go to Europe with only a Kindle Fire for reading material. (It wouldn't charge through the converter.)<br \/><br \/><b>40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.<\/b><br \/><br \/><i>Hey, mambo! Mambo italiano!<\/i><a name='cutid1-end'><\/a><br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/689112.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/cbbc3aff0fb988b8ed7e000779739610c75f94ea769d50fd82155903bb79209d\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW0DwB7FBv:BF3IgqL_92311PRqDF3Gjg\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:844250","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/844250.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=844250"}}],"title":"devildoll @ 2013-12-31T21:13:00","published":"2014-01-01T03:21:28Z","updated":"2014-01-01T04:26:43Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"end of year survey"}},"content":"Not gonna lie, I've been putting this off all month, because I just didn't even want to think about most of these questions and rehash all this stuff, because 2013 can best be summed up as: AND I THOUGHT 2012 WAS BAD. <br \/><br \/>But tradition and posterity blah blah blah.<br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><b>1. What did you do in this year that you'd never done before?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I went kayaking! It was awesome and I want to do it again.<br \/><br \/><b>2. Did you achieve your goals, and will you make more for this year?<\/b><br \/><br \/><b>Goals for 2013<\/b><br \/>-write five stories<br \/>-hold the crow yoga pose for more than two seconds<br \/>-winter moonlight hiking<br \/>-200 Sit-Ups (for real this time)<br \/>-<a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.tumblr.com\/post\/39348297725\/i-have-a-jar-left-from-christmas-gifts-that-will\" target=\"_blank\">happiness jar!<\/a><br \/><br \/>I wrote <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/users\/DevilDoll\/works\" target=\"_blank\">five stories.<\/a> I am now able to hold crow for\u2026ten seconds, probably. I went winter moonlight hiking (more than once!). I also had a goal, which I forgot to put down here, of hiking 200 miles in 2013, which I accomplished despite a nagging hip injury, so yay me!<br \/><br \/>I completely failed at 200 Sit-Ups AGAIN, but I've come to realize that at this point I'm just not all that interested in it, so I'm giving up on it.<br \/><br \/>I did do a happiness jar, which was actually a Hello Kitty box, and I was pretty good about it for a while, and then things got kind of busy and sucky, and I forgot about it for a while. At the end of the year I got back to it. I spent some time reading the notes in it today, and it was fun. There were definitely things I'd forgotten about, and it was nice to remember.<br \/><br \/><b>Goals for 2014<\/b><br \/>-hold a plank for four minutes <br \/>-update LJ\/DW once a month<br \/>-work on that writing thing I've been avoiding for a year<br \/><br \/><b>3. Did anyone close to you give birth?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I don't think so. I\u2019m pretty uninterested in humans reproducing so if anyone did I probably forgot.<br \/><br \/><b>4. Did anyone close to you die?<\/b><br \/><br \/>My grandpa died in September. <span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/fullygoldy.dreamwidth.org\/profile\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/a31c26fed898bf6654de22754ee78db16f18c34edc3550f4e730b8427f977b7f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT056GQJiv05e0zTaZg1RFEYV0g0o-lRBm3nIevQ:-nysiOjwZ9m5fa0wE0OnKg\" alt=\"[personal profile] \" width=\"17\" height=\"17\" style=\"vertical-align: text-bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/fullygoldy.dreamwidth.org\/\" target=\"_blank\"><b>fullygoldy<\/b><\/a><\/span> died in November.<br \/><br \/><b>5. What countries did you visit?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Just the one I live in.<br \/><br \/><b>6. What would you like to have in 2014 that you lacked in 2013?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Answers from last year: financial stability, snowshoes.<br \/><br \/>I got neither, so I'll stick with those again this year.<br \/><br \/><b>7. What date from 2013 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?<\/b><br \/><br \/>The morning I got word that my grandpa had finally died.<br \/><br \/><b>8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Writing <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/1022356\" target=\"_blank\">Stand Fast In Your Enchantments.<\/a> Not only was it long and plotty, but I wrote it over what was a really difficult six months, and since it was for Otter, who is my Teen Wolf beta reader and sounding board, I couldn't bounce stuff off her, which made it even more difficult. I am so damn glad I finished it.<br \/><br \/><b>9. What was your biggest failure?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I'm not really sure and I don't feel like contemplating it.<br \/><br \/><b>10. Did you suffer illness or injury?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I've had an ongoing problem with my hip, starting in April and getting progressively worse since. I will hopefully have an answer about the exact nature of the problem soon.<br \/><br \/><b>11. What was the best thing you bought?<\/b><br \/><br \/>A rosin bag for yoga class. I had the worst problem with sliding around on my mat all the time, because--and I know this sounds weird--my hands are really smooth. (When I went to get fingerprinted for work reasons the cop who did it grumbled and had to re-do the whole card because I barely even have any fingerprints. Maybe I'm an android, I don't know.)<br \/><br \/><b>12. Whose behavior merited celebration?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I've had some really wonderful times in Teen Wolf fandom this year, and people have been so generous and creative and amazing. Those were some bright spots in what was a pretty difficult year.<br \/><br \/><b>13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?<\/b> <br \/><br \/>Republicans, as usual, but let's mix it up this year and say Jeff Davis, head dipshit over at Teen Wolf. <br \/><br \/><b>14. Where did most of your money go?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Car payments, horse expenses, paying off my MacBook.<br \/><br \/><b>15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?<\/b><br \/><br \/>My friend Price came to town to see Thor 2 with me and we had a fantastic time. I wish he could move back here so I could see him more often.<br \/><br \/><b>16. What song will always remind you of 2013<\/b><br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=nlcIKh6sBtc\" target=\"_blank\">Royals by Lorde<\/a><br \/><br \/><b>17. Compared to this time last year, are you:<\/b><br \/><br \/>i. happier or sadder? sadder<br \/>ii. thinner or fatter? same <br \/>iii. richer or poorer? same <br \/><br \/><b>18. What do you wish you'd done more of?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Writing.<br \/><br \/><b>19. What do you wish you'd done less of?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Being angry about things I can't control.<br \/><br \/><b>20. How will you be spending New Year's Eve?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Home alone, which is my tradition. (Start as you intend to go on, and all that.)<br \/><br \/><b>22. Did you fall in love in 2013?<\/b><br \/><br \/>No, thank God. That's the last fucking thing I need.<br \/><br \/><b>23. Did you try any foods you've never eaten before?<\/b><br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/bloodymarysareavegetable.tumblr.com\/post\/53210964965\/chia-seed-pudding-1-4-c-chia-seeds-1-c-liquid-I\" target=\"_blank\">Chia seed pudding!<\/a> Which I LOVED and I make all the time now. SO DELICIOUS.<br \/><br \/><b>24. What was your favorite TV program?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Well, it should have been Teen Wolf but season 3A was so bad that this year my favorite TV show isn't the one for the fandom I am actively writing in\u2014that goes to Almost Human.<br \/><br \/><b>25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I think I might replace this one, too. It's such a bummer.<br \/><br \/><b>26. What was the best book you read?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I read so few books now. It's all just fan fiction. I did a book or two. Probably something by John Sandford.<br \/><br \/><b>27. What was your greatest musical (re)discovery?<\/b><br \/><br \/>The Black Keys<br \/><br \/><b>28. What did you want and get?<\/b><br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/Trigger-Point-Performance-Revolutionary-Roller\/dp\/B0040EKZDY\/ref=sr_1_2?s=exercise-and-fitness&amp;ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1388504527&amp;sr=1-2\" target=\"_blank\">This foam roller.<\/a><br \/><br \/>I have a smooth one that I've used for years, but the Pilates studio had one of these, and I loved it so much and used it every time I was there. Then the studio closed that location and moved into a local fitness club, and that roller didn't make the move (I think it belonged to the personal trainer who worked out of the old location--he went somewhere else). Anyway, I went back to using my own roller all the time and found it wasn't as effective. So I asked for one for Christmas and my mom delivered! &lt;3<br \/><br \/><b>29. What did you want and not get?<\/b><br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/Grizzly-Rage-Brody-Harms-Adam\/dp\/B0013D8L86\/ref=sr_1_cc_1?s=aps&amp;ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1388504571&amp;sr=1-1-catcorr&amp;keywords=grizzly+rage\" target=\"_blank\">This cinematic masterpiece.<\/a><br \/><br \/><b>30. What was your favorite film of this year?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Huh. That's actually a tough one. 2012 was just so fucking amazing and then 2013 was\u2026not. There were a lot of movies I was really looking forward to that were disappointing (Iron Man 3, Man of Steel, Monsters University, the list goes on) so I guess\u2026Pacific Rim  or Thor 2.<br \/><br \/><b>31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I turned 42 (the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything!), and I went up north to spend it with my dad and grandparents. It was the last birthday I'll ever celebrate with my grandpa, and I knew it at the time, so it was pretty bittersweet.<br \/> <br \/>I didn't actually celebrate with my family down here until July. We went out to dinner and had cake at home. It was nice and low-key and fun.<br \/><br \/>And Ileliberte drew me <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.tumblr.com\/post\/50872252455\/ileliberte-eartha-kitt-as-catwoman-plus-cat-d\" target=\"_blank\">a fantastic Catwoman piece!<\/a> Eartha Kitt version, too!<br \/><br \/><b>32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Less cancer. WAY LESS CANCER.<br \/><br \/><b>33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2013?<\/b><br \/><br \/>\"Affordable.\" (I really need to replace this question, too.)<br \/><br \/><b>34. What kept you sane?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Texting with my friends, spending time at the barn with Logan. Teen Wolf fanworks.<br \/><br \/><b>35. Which celebrity\/public figure\/fictional character did you fancy the most?<\/b><br \/><br \/>My love for Tyler Hoechlin is through the stratosphere at this point.<br \/><br \/><b>36. What political issue stirred you the most?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Ugh. I hate politics so much, mainly due to the existence of Republicans, so maybe this question needs to be replaced, as well.<br \/><br \/><b>37. Who did you miss?<\/b><br \/><br \/>My grandpa. :(<br \/><br \/><b>38. Who was the best new person you met?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I found an amazing new yoga instructor who has really changed the way I practice, and made me a stronger, better student.<br \/><br \/><b>39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2013<\/b><br \/><br \/>Take your iPhone out of your pocket before you go in the port-a-potty.<br \/><br \/><b>40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.<\/b><br \/><br \/><i>I'm trying, but I'm graceless<br \/>Don't have the sunny side to face this<br \/>I am invisible and weightless<br \/>You can't imagine how I hate this<\/i><br \/><br \/>Graceless \u2013 The National<br \/><br \/><a name='cutid1-end'><\/a><a name='cutid1-end'><\/a><br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/688668.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/74676d4848a5fcf3a21708e5629e9cf55a09be2fb84c5e3f889ba0ac9cb790a6\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW0TsG5lBv:-t_BIT_s8FCTcIiJxyuYiw\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:843815","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/843815.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=843815"}}],"title":"The Peace of Wild Things","published":"2013-09-10T00:22:14Z","updated":"2013-09-10T00:22:14Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"my life"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"family life"}}],"content":"My grandpa died last week.<br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/>He was 93 years old and had been ill for a while, but that only makes it slightly less difficult. It's still a loss for all of us, a gaping hole in our family. An empty chair at the table, a pair of shoes by the door that will never be worn again, a pick-up truck sitting under the oak tree that we can't bear to think of selling.<br \/><br \/>He was a logger, like my great-grandpa, like my great-great-grandpa, like my dad. He logged with horses well into the 1980s, long after everyone else had switched to machines, because he enjoyed working with them and didn't want to give it up. His logging horses were the first I ever rode, and he always used to say I got my love of horses from him. I probably did.<br \/><br \/>He loved being outside, even when he wasn't working. He hunted, and fished, and went for long walks. My first hikes were with him, traipsing through the woods on our family's land. There were no trails, no signs, no GPS watches--just a walking stick and a couple peanut butter sandwiches in our pockets. I walked a lot of miles looking at his boot heels, stopping to pick flowers, catch a toad, ask him what kind of bird was making that noise.<br \/><br \/>Like me, he loved to read, and learn things. He never used a computer, but he knew you could find just about anything on the Internet, and every week when I called he'd have something for me to look up. Who made the first potato chip? How long does a grasshopper live? I spent a lot of Sunday nights reading Wikipedia pages into the phone. <br \/><br \/>He was funny, and kind, and incredibly honest. If you've read my stories, you've met him, in a way. There's a little of him in Ernst from <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/271099\" target=\"_blank\">Junk Cheap<\/a>--Ernst's outrage over opposition to marriage equality came straight from my grandpa, who insisted \"it's no one's goddamn business who someone else wants to marry.\" There's more than a little of him in Steve Rogers, both the <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/314102\" target=\"_blank\">Semaphore<\/a> version and the <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/558511\" target=\"_blank\">Rule Number Nine<\/a> version. I borrowed quite a few things from my grandpa, habits and personality traits, his dislike of the casual use of the f-bomb, his old antique radio that didn't work anymore. It came in handy when I was writing Captain America, knowing a guy who was born in 1920 and fought in World War II and hated bullies.<br \/><br \/>He always flew an American flag out by the road, even when he disagreed strenuously with the direction the country is going in, and it's at half-staff now, for him. The funeral was standing room only, and afterwards there was a luncheon in the small town he grew up in, bowls and pans and Nesco cookers lined up on the counter in the town hall, full of food cooked and served at no charge by the women of the town. My second grade teacher was there, cousins of cousins were there, sons and daughters and grandchildren of deceased friends were there. My parents have been divorced for thirty years but she was there, and some of her siblings came, and some of her friends. A man who worked for him for years broke down and cried outside the funeral home. There was an honor guard, and each of the grandkids received a spent shell from the volley. <br \/><br \/>My grandmother gave my brother my grandfather's watch. My cousin Kyle got a coin he carried all through the war. I got his pocketknife. When I was a little girl we would sit on the tailgate of his pickup truck and share an apple, and he would cut it into slices with his knife, and let me fold the blade back in when we were done.<br \/><br \/>About ten years ago there was a Christmas where money was tight for my grandparents but not for me, and before I left their house on Christmas day I rolled up a twenty dollar bill and stuck it through a wreath-shaped ornament on the tree, for them to find when they took it down. When I saw them a few weeks later, my grandma asked if I had left it there and I said yes. She said, \"Grandpa said right away it  was you.\" I laughed and said, \"How did you know?\" and my Grandpa said, \"Because you have a good heart.\"<br \/><br \/>I got that from him, too.<br \/><br \/><center><br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/cf65aa112f92dff11263fa9f19faef2fc0db22c6a4c4ac548be28e8668188ddc\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UVd9v1RQljLLcQ1EER0Ljxk2719AjGXONfmYvQwergFmaA8:DD5h97ozCZZW2NkRzDo8Jg\" fetchpriority=\"high\"><br \/><br \/>Age nine. Look at that face!<br \/><br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/3a58fce41be22c03a10ee925f9dcbe96a2410b141963c0f4f8dd565e015cab4b\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UVd9v1RQljLLcQ1EER0Ljxk2719AjGXONfmYvQ0ergFmaA8:kCE_dGVO4C37GBasaXHo7Q\" loading=\"lazy\"><br \/><br \/>When I visited in July he had just been moved to a nursing home, and I spent the day there with him and my grandma, looking at pictures. This is my grandparents sixty-five years ago, and just two months ago.<br \/><br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/69c77ae93813b12b2dde568c415c459afca30a04ec975c8d284fc7dba8d950eb\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UVd9v1RQljLLcQ1EER0Ljxk2719AjGXONfmYvQ4ergFmaA8:9gDc8ATI2uENWUZqhq2VsQ\" loading=\"lazy\"> <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/8daa7427a06a4d9779cf64b67b0164dd3922ae8857f8d3e3d3b0cd632b59ecc1\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UVd9v1RQljLLcQ1EER0Ljxk2719AjGXONfmYvQ8ergFmaA8:ah-Cc9u1M1qgmYnXI-ZBeg\" loading=\"lazy\"><br \/><br \/><br \/><\/center><a name='cutid1-end'><\/a><br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/688401.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/88e17beac6b51b7741b810a36dd10b518f5611e461c6930b717070601876c3bf\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW0TkA71Bv:2zvkPZoXYDaYrpT837Xg1Q\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:843724","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/843724.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=843724"}}],"title":"Won't Do Me No Good Washing in the River ebook!","published":"2013-03-28T14:23:48Z","updated":"2013-03-28T14:23:48Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"fanfiction: derek hale\/stiles stilinski"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"ebooks"}}],"content":"<span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"amezri\" lj:user=\"amezri\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/amezri.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/amezri.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>amezri<\/b><\/a><a class=\"i-ljuser-badge i-ljuser-badge--pro\" data-badge-type=\"pro\" data-placement=\"bottom\" data-pro-badge data-pro-badge-type=\"1\" data-is-raw hidden href=\"#\"><span class=\"i-ljuser-badge__icon\"><svg class=\"svgicon\" width=\"25\" height=\"16\" xmlns=\"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/2000\/svg\" viewBox=\"0 0 33 24\"><path fill-rule=\"evenodd\" d=\"M19.326 11.95c0 2.01 1.47 3.45 3.48 3.45 2.02 0 3.49-1.44 3.49-3.45 0-2.01-1.47-3.45-3.49-3.45-2.01 0-3.48 1.44-3.48 3.45Zm5.51 0c0 1.24-.8 2.19-2.03 2.19-1.23 0-2.02-.95-2.02-2.19 0-1.25.79-2.19 2.02-2.19s2.03.94 2.03 2.19ZM7.92 15.28H6.5V8.61h3.12c1.45 0 2.24.98 2.24 2.15 0 1.16-.8 2.15-2.24 2.15h-1.7v2.37Zm1.51-3.62c.56 0 .98-.35.98-.9 0-.56-.42-.9-.98-.9H7.92v1.8h1.51ZM18.3802 15.28h-1.63l-1.31-2.37h-1.04v2.37h-1.42V8.61h3.12c1.39 0 2.24.91 2.24 2.15 0 1.18-.74 1.81-1.46 1.98l1.5 2.54Zm-2.49-3.62c.57 0 1-.34 1-.9s-.43-.9-1-.9h-1.49v1.8h1.49Z\" clip-rule=\"evenodd\"\/><path fill-rule=\"evenodd\" d=\"M2 8c0-2.20914 1.79086-4 4-4h20.5c2.2091 0 4 1.79086 4 4v7.9c0 2.2091-1.7909 4-4 4H6c-2.20914 0-4-1.7909-4-4V8Zm4-2.5h20.5C27.8807 5.5 29 6.61929 29 8v7.9c0 1.3807-1.1193 2.5-2.5 2.5H6c-1.38071 0-2.5-1.1193-2.5-2.5V8c0-1.38071 1.11929-2.5 2.5-2.5Z\" clip-rule=\"evenodd\"\/><\/svg><\/span><\/a><\/span> made us a lovely ebook, complete with a very pretty cover.<br \/><br \/><center><br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/4686570c9b31a649d374f1e13a83ce9da3ce29e447914dd5c00508ba9914bdc5\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkxSElwYmRc2-kUAnXLda7nRo0peo1N8:zikjHr8ZLDXgAGfLs3rzFg\" fetchpriority=\"high\"><br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/www.haremuniverse.com\/semaphore\/Devil%20Doll%20-%20Won%27t%20Do%20Me%20No%20Good.epub\" target=\"_blank\">Download the epub here.<\/a><br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/www.haremuniverse.com\/semaphore\/Devil%20Doll%20-%20Won%27t%20Do%20Me%20No%20Good.mobi\" target=\"_blank\">Download the mobi here.<\/a><br \/><br \/><\/center>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:843395","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/843395.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=843395"}}],"title":"Fic: Won't Do Me No Good Washing in the River (Teen Wolf) Derek Hale\/Stile Stilinski (Mature)","published":"2013-03-26T19:03:03Z","updated":"2013-03-26T19:03:03Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"podfic"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fanfiction: derek hale\/stiles stilinski"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"teen wolf"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fanart"}}],"content":"I was lucky enough to work on a collaboration with these two amazing people. You should go check it out.<br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/736524\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Won't Do Me No Good Washing in the River<\/strong><\/a> (5938 words) by <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/users\/DevilDoll\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>DevilDoll<\/strong><\/a>, <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/users\/Jinxy\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Jinxy<\/strong><\/a>, <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/users\/Rahciach\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Rahciach<\/strong><\/a><br \/>Chapters: 1\/1<br \/>Fandom: <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/tags\/Teen%20Wolf%20(TV)\" target=\"_blank\">Teen Wolf (TV)<\/a><br \/>Rating: Mature<br \/>Warnings: Major Character Death<br \/>Relationships: Derek Hale\/Stiles Stilinski<br \/>Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski<br \/>Additional Tags: Amnesia, Alternate Universe, Temporary Character Death, dark themes, Depression, Fanart, Podfic, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Length: 45-60 Minutes, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming<br \/>Summary: <p>\"Remember, Derek: you never get back what you lost.\" Story by Devil Doll, artwork by Rahciach, podfic by Jinxy. This story has a happy ending, but please read the tags.<\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:842971","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/842971.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=842971"}}],"title":"Arts!","published":"2013-02-12T21:11:45Z","updated":"2013-02-12T21:11:45Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"fanfiction: derek hale\/stiles stilinski"}},"content":"I recently got TWO pieces of art for <i>Beltane!<\/i> \\o\/<br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/dreaminginpencil.tumblr.com\/post\/40469252165\/healer-stiles-inspired-by-beltane-written-by\" target=\"_blank\">dreamingingpencil<\/a> drew a fantastic portrait of Stiles with his tattoos!<br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/95bc36bdb243b40a083ce3d7d7ff4ad3cf3ff6870dce9e6513c7ffcfa6c072bb\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkxHGF4YnBY-7FIGh3Lca7nRo1BAo1N8:6D4CKtAJDKI3ms8lJrLZjg\" fetchpriority=\"high\"><br \/><br \/>[Image Description: Stiles covered in tattoos.]<br \/><br \/><br \/>and <a href=\"http:\/\/blandade.tumblr.com\/post\/40775096689\/drawn-based-on\" target=\"_blank\">blandade<\/a> drew this wonderful piece showing Stiles healing Derek:<br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/9db909ec6439aa88fe55e16d69719789b30086a165aba81ffb1a7035bb627e8a\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkxHGF4YnBY-7FIKmXLEa7nRo1BAo1N8:6LOupN9flb32eIJ_4t2NpQ\" loading=\"lazy\"><br \/><br \/>[Image Description: Stiles healing Derek.]<br \/><br \/><br \/>and then <a href=\"http:\/\/justanotherbeautifulface.tumblr.com\/post\/41558436161\/1-5-cover-series-for-fanfics-that-i-love-you-were\" target=\"_blank\">justanotherbeautifulface<\/a> made this wonderful cover for my story <i>You Were a Kindness When I Was a Stranger<\/i><br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/e5702a33e7fa3a3ec6889b7da2217a3a466697dd647afa82a336798a49ed0241\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkxOFFwIkx0o7EUAnXLda7nRo1BAo1N8:kOUH-MMisZrD9TkZw6Q8kg\" loading=\"lazy\"><br \/><br \/>[Image Description: Cover for story.]<br \/><br \/>and then I died of joy. The end.<br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/687261.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/26890d3eaaa85080d7ad7c864969470ad7cb85f8e926ab7f6cf52bf7c4be797e\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW3j8G71Bv:KyrMaISRowflUOgDMNqEhA\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:842730","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/842730.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=842730"}}],"title":"Beltane Podfic!","published":"2013-02-12T18:27:47Z","updated":"2013-02-12T18:27:47Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"podfic"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fanfiction: derek hale\/stiles stilinski"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"teen wolf"}}],"content":"The lovely <span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/erica-schall.dreamwidth.org\/profile\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/a31c26fed898bf6654de22754ee78db16f18c34edc3550f4e730b8427f977b7f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT056GQJiv05e0zTaZg1RFEYV0g0o-lRBm3nIevQ:-nysiOjwZ9m5fa0wE0OnKg\" alt=\"[personal profile] \" width=\"17\" height=\"17\" style=\"vertical-align: text-bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/erica-schall.dreamwidth.org\/\" target=\"_blank\"><b>erica_schall<\/b><\/a><\/span> has podficced my story Beltane, and it comes with a cover using one of the fanworks that inspired it, a beautiful piece by <a href=\"http:\/\/nininghasfeelings.tumblr.com\/\" target=\"_blank\">nininghasfeelings.<\/a><br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/763cf2b70547cdd4404fb5e648537b93997304074852ab2ad10e32f997465acf\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkxHGF4YnBY-70kLjX7MO-aX6EgetB9maA8:l1GUKCVR1GSty1LWww06pQ\" fetchpriority=\"high\"><br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/676196\" target=\"_blank\">Available on AO3.<\/a><br \/><br \/>&lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3<br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/686960.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/4dedca4562b9721f49769088e331a8630c1768ddae662671ef0952f1b78f9dd4\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW3zQG7lBv:8fSW0YeCYrbWbaZC228HUQ\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:842084","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/842084.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=842084"}}],"title":"Podfics and a Translation!","published":"2013-02-05T02:38:59Z","updated":"2013-02-05T02:40:48Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"fanfiction: steve rogers\/tony stark"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"podfic"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fanfiction: derek hale\/stiles stilinski"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fanfiction: clint barton\/phil coulson"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"teen wolf"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"avengers"}}],"content":"Somehow all of January went by without me posting about these, but I am here to remedy that!<br \/><br \/>Firstly, there is now a <a href=\"http:\/\/amplificathon.livejournal.com\/1658270.html\" target=\"_blank\">Can you hear when I say podfic<\/a> by <span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/www.dreamwidth.org\/profile?user=liannabob\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/a31c26fed898bf6654de22754ee78db16f18c34edc3550f4e730b8427f977b7f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT056GQJiv05e0zTaZg1RFEYV0g0o-lRBm3nIevQ:-nysiOjwZ9m5fa0wE0OnKg\" alt=\"[profile] \" width=\"17\" height=\"17\" style=\"vertical-align: text-bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/www.dreamwidth.org\/profile?user=liannabob\" target=\"_blank\"><b>liannabob<\/b><\/a><\/span>, who also recorded two other Clint\/Coulson corgi stories, including the one that inspired mine. \\o\/<br \/><br \/>If Teen Wolf is your thing, you can listen to the <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/626138\" target=\"_blank\">Jinx Removing podfic<\/a> by <span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/anatsuno.dreamwidth.org\/profile\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/a31c26fed898bf6654de22754ee78db16f18c34edc3550f4e730b8427f977b7f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT056GQJiv05e0zTaZg1RFEYV0g0o-lRBm3nIevQ:-nysiOjwZ9m5fa0wE0OnKg\" alt=\"[personal profile] \" width=\"17\" height=\"17\" style=\"vertical-align: text-bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/anatsuno.dreamwidth.org\/\" target=\"_blank\"><b>anatsuno<\/b><\/a><\/span> and it comes with a fitting cover:<br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/4a5a0bcd8d9240d15f2885b8d5ebc66049ebcde3a241d9d1f80120f022d4d9f8\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkxPFFwUohs06UMd2Cefdu6I6xhN:0jnPiA1-4QAGujhLCetUSg\" fetchpriority=\"high\"><br \/><br \/><br \/>Lastly, Semaphore is being translated into Polish. The first two parts are up right now:<br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/658275\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>Kontakt semaforowy<\/strong><\/a> by <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/users\/otemporaetmores\" target=\"_blank\"><strong>otemporaetmores<\/strong><\/a><br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/686495.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/4431b21d7b117100d8b6abd4382ed1a247e50472e7d9318228ccc91fdf4a726f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW3zkJ61Bv:H-ALOYm8sXJpv9B0-tNRSQ\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:841903","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/841903.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=841903"}}],"title":"End of Year Survey","published":"2013-01-01T01:36:28Z","updated":"2013-01-01T01:37:36Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"end of year survey"}},"content":"2012 had a lot of extremes. Fannishly it was simply wonderful, more than I could ever hope for, and I'm still sort of blinking owlishly at my computer most of the time in amazement. In my other life, things were a little more up and down. The year started off awesome and then got crappy and then got <i>really crappy<\/i> and there was way too much cancer involved (not me, but several of people I know and love). Online, I would be happy to just live in this little bubble of time forever, because I love every minute of it, but offline I'm officially ready to move on to 2013 now and hope things get a little better. <br \/><br \/>(This isn't the fannish survey I've seen posted around, because the idea of deciding which story is my favorite and which one is under-appreciated makes me feel like I'm shriveling up inside GAH. )<br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><b>1. What did you do in this year that you'd never done before?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I went up to the Nicolet Forest to see the blue herons roosting, which was awesome, and also impossible to take good pictures of without a super zoomy lense. But it was great. I also hung out with <span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/www.dreamwidth.org\/profile?user=artemis2050\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/a31c26fed898bf6654de22754ee78db16f18c34edc3550f4e730b8427f977b7f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT056GQJiv05e0zTaZg1RFEYV0g0o-lRBm3nIevQ:-nysiOjwZ9m5fa0wE0OnKg\" alt=\"[profile] \" width=\"17\" height=\"17\" style=\"vertical-align: text-bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/www.dreamwidth.org\/profile?user=artemis2050\" target=\"_blank\"><b>artemis2050<\/b><\/a><\/span> in person! We watched <i>The Avengers<\/i> and <i>The Bourne Legacy<\/i> and <i>The A-Team<\/i> and ate cheese!<br \/><br \/><b>2. Did you achieve your goals, and will you make more for this year?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Goals for 2012 were: <br \/><br \/><i>-write at least five stories<\/i><br \/><br \/>FUCK YES I DID THIS.<br \/><br \/>I actually wrote ten stories and several Tumblr snippets! Which is probably a week's worth for some people, but for me that's a pretty big deal. And I also posted one story I'd written years ago and thought I'd lost forever.<br \/><br \/><i>-read at least five books<\/i><br \/><br \/>Back at the beginning of the year I actually had a copy of this survey saved where I was updating it as the year went along so this would be a whole lot easier come year end, and I know I had a list of the books in there, but now I can't find the document. (I had a computer crash, and I thought I'd retained everything, but I can't find it!)<br \/><br \/>I'm pretty sure I did read five books, though, even though I don't read nearly as many books as I used to, because most of them cost money, and many of them are not as good as the stuff I can get for free from fandom, and also all the writing I've been doing cuts into reading time. I'm okay with that. <br \/><br \/>Anyway, the ones I can remember are <a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/gp\/product\/0399157689\/ref=oh_details_o04_s00_i00\" target=\"_blank\">Stolen Prey<\/a> and <a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/gp\/product\/0399157700\/ref=oh_details_o05_s01_i01\" target=\"_blank\">Mad River<\/a>, both by John Sandford. I also read <a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/Wheat-Belly-Lose-Weight-Health\/dp\/1609614798\/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1356969023&amp;sr=1-1\" target=\"_blank\">Wheat Belly<\/a> by William Davis, and <a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/The-Song-Achilles-Novel-P-S\/dp\/0062060627\/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1356969086&amp;sr=1-1\" target=\"_blank\">The Song of Achilles<\/a> by Madeline Miller.<br \/><br \/><i>-create at least five fannish things that are not stories (graphics etc)<\/i><br \/><br \/>I did this! I made some icons for several people, and posted a couple simple graphics to Tumblr.<br \/><br \/><i>-finally do that damn elephant Pilates move without adding an extra spring<\/i><br \/><br \/>MOTHERFUCKING DONE. \\o\/<br \/><br \/><i>-200 Sit-Ups<\/i><br \/><br \/>Erm. Funny story here.<br \/><br \/>For the last several years I've tried to do <a href=\"http:\/\/hundredpushups.com\" target=\"_blank\">100 Push-Ups<\/a>, and every year my shoulder would get so very angry, so I gave up on it, and decided to do <a href=\"http:\/\/www.twohundredsitups.com\/\" target=\"_blank\">200 Sit-Ups<\/a> instead. But instead of following the program I was sort of just winging it, doing as many as I could every time (I started off in January at 60) because my spine has good days and bad days, and for almost a whole month in there I couldn't really do any sit-ups at all. Anyway, somewhere along the line I started thinking it was <b>100<\/b> Sit-Ups instead of 200. I think this is because of the 100 Push-Ups thing. <br \/><br \/>Anyway, I was all proud of myself when I met that goal of 100, and then kept going and surpassed it, and so for the last few months or so I've slacked off because I've been so busy and I thought I'd gone above and beyond. And then I opened this document and realized: OH CRAP.<br \/><br \/>So I didn't meet this goal. I'm at 125. But not because I didn't try! I'm just an idiot. The good news is I should be able to meet it next year!<br \/><br \/><i>-Inbox Zero<\/i> <br \/><br \/>Total, complete failure.<br \/><br \/>It's a really terrible idea to decide to do this when you've just gotten into a new fandom (Avengers, at the time, and now Teen Wolf), because naturally the number of emails you get in a day goes up. So many notifications! LiveJournal, Dreamwidth, Twitter, Tumblr, AO3. <br \/><br \/>Then, to make matters worse, early in the year I got an iPhone, which is awesome! I love my iPhone! But previously I had a Palm Pre that came with a free hotspot that had a 5GB data limit, which was how I got online (with my personal laptop) at work, where all the fun things are blocked by Web Washer. Except the new iPhone's hotspot is only 2GB, which is NOTHING. The first month I burned through 75% of it in two weeks. So I had to severely cut back on my online time during the day, which only made the backlog in my inbox grow and grow. <br \/><br \/>The short version is more email + less access to email account = recipe for failure. At this point I consider myself a hero if I can keep total unanswered emails below 400. And that's how it's going to stay.<br \/><br \/>Oh, well. I tried.<br \/><br \/><b>Goals for 2013<\/b><br \/>-write five stories<br \/>-hold the crow yoga pose for more than two seconds<br \/>-winter moonlight hiking<br \/>-200 Sit-Ups (for real this time)<br \/>-<a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.tumblr.com\/post\/39348297725\/i-have-a-jar-left-from-christmas-gifts-that-will\" target=\"_blank\">happiness jar!<\/a><br \/><br \/><b>3. Did anyone close to you give birth?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I don't think so?<br \/><br \/><b>4. Did anyone close to you die?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Yes. My friend Marcia died in April, from lung cancer.<br \/><br \/><b>5. What countries did you visit?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Just the one I live in.<br \/><br \/><b>6. What would you like to have in 2013 that you lacked in 2012?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Answers from last year: New riding boots, snowshoes.<br \/><br \/>I got the riding boots a few months ago, finally. I'm glad I didn't get the snowshoes, because we had almost no show last winter, so that it would have been pointless. <br \/><br \/>For 2013 I'm gonna say financial stability. I had to buy a new car and it's been really tough to keep my bank balance in the black since I got it in June.<br \/><br \/>I still want those snowshoes, though.<br \/><br \/><b>7. What date from 2012 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?<\/b><br \/><br \/><i>Avengers<\/i> opening weekend, man. So awesome! <span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/musesfool.dreamwidth.org\/profile\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/a31c26fed898bf6654de22754ee78db16f18c34edc3550f4e730b8427f977b7f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT056GQJiv05e0zTaZg1RFEYV0g0o-lRBm3nIevQ:-nysiOjwZ9m5fa0wE0OnKg\" alt=\"[personal profile] \" width=\"17\" height=\"17\" style=\"vertical-align: text-bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/musesfool.dreamwidth.org\/\" target=\"_blank\"><b>musesfool<\/b><\/a><\/span> and <span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/chicklet-girl.dreamwidth.org\/profile\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/a31c26fed898bf6654de22754ee78db16f18c34edc3550f4e730b8427f977b7f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT056GQJiv05e0zTaZg1RFEYV0g0o-lRBm3nIevQ:-nysiOjwZ9m5fa0wE0OnKg\" alt=\"[personal profile] \" width=\"17\" height=\"17\" style=\"vertical-align: text-bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/chicklet-girl.dreamwidth.org\/\" target=\"_blank\"><b>chicklet_girl<\/b><\/a><\/span> and <span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/girlinthetrilby.dreamwidth.org\/profile\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/a31c26fed898bf6654de22754ee78db16f18c34edc3550f4e730b8427f977b7f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT056GQJiv05e0zTaZg1RFEYV0g0o-lRBm3nIevQ:-nysiOjwZ9m5fa0wE0OnKg\" alt=\"[personal profile] \" width=\"17\" height=\"17\" style=\"vertical-align: text-bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/girlinthetrilby.dreamwidth.org\/\" target=\"_blank\"><b>girlinthetrilby<\/b><\/a><\/span> came to town and we went to see the movie three times and ate cupcakes and it was also Free Comic Book Day and it was all around just awesome.<br \/><br \/><b>8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?<\/b><br \/><br \/>TEN STORIES HOLY SHIT.<br \/><br \/><b>9. What was your biggest failure?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Probably not writing that Clint\/Darcy story for <span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/musesfool.dreamwidth.org\/profile\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/a31c26fed898bf6654de22754ee78db16f18c34edc3550f4e730b8427f977b7f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT056GQJiv05e0zTaZg1RFEYV0g0o-lRBm3nIevQ:-nysiOjwZ9m5fa0wE0OnKg\" alt=\"[personal profile] \" width=\"17\" height=\"17\" style=\"vertical-align: text-bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/musesfool.dreamwidth.org\/\" target=\"_blank\"><b>musesfool<\/b><\/a><\/span>. Sorry, Vic! I got distracted by werewolves!<br \/><br \/><b>10. Did you suffer illness or injury?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I had two colds this year, one in May and one in December. Which is a vast improvement. Up until a few years ago when I stopped eating wheat, I was sick all the time. Constantly. And now I get sick just a few times a year, usually due to a combination of stress, interrupted sleep, and being around a lot of people. You can almost set your watch by it, actually. <br \/><br \/><b>11. What was the best thing you bought?<\/b><br \/><br \/>My car! A lovely little Toyota RAV4. I love it. (It's bankrupting me, but I love it.) I've wanted a little SUV for years, and I finally feel like I got a car that fits my lifestyle, for hiking and horse stuff, and driving 30 miles to my crappy job in shit weather and everything. I just adore it.<br \/><br \/>It's named the Quinjet. (LIKE YOU'RE SURPRISED.)<br \/><br \/><b>12. Whose behavior merited celebration?<\/b><br \/><br \/>My horse. You guys, he has just been AMAZING since we moved to a new barn that's a lot smaller and quieter. He is just so happy and doing so many great things during our riding lessons. &lt;3 &lt;3<br \/><br \/><b>13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?<\/b> <br \/><br \/>Every male politician who said something horrifying about rape. Fuck you all.<br \/><br \/><b>14. Where did most of your money go?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Horse, car. The usual.<br \/><br \/><b>15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?<\/b><br \/><br \/><i>Avengers<\/i>! And it delivered!<br \/><br \/><b>16. What song will always remind you of 2012<\/b><br \/><br \/><i>Avengers<\/i> theme. (I saw it twelve times in the theater. &gt;_&lt;)<br \/><br \/><b>17. Compared to this time last year, are you:<\/b><br \/><br \/>i. happier or sadder? sadder<br \/>ii. thinner or fatter? same <br \/>iii. richer or poorer? poorer <br \/><br \/><b>18. What do you wish you'd done more of?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Meditating. Totally fell off the wagon.<br \/><br \/><b>19. What do you wish you'd done less of?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Fucking around on Tumblr as a stalling mechanism when I got stuck on a story. There's taking a break and mulling something, and then there's just plain goofing off. Goofing off doesn't get stories finished.<br \/><br \/><b>20. How will you be spending New Year's Eve?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Home alone, which is my tradition. (Start as you intend to go on, and all that.)<br \/><br \/><b>22. Did you fall in love in 2012?<\/b><br \/><br \/>HELLO DEREK HALE AND STILES STILINSKI<br \/><br \/><b>23. How many one-night stands?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Every year I say I'm gonna replace this question...<br \/><br \/><b>24. What was your favorite TV program?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Teen Wolf, Walking Dead, Leverage (R.I.P.), White Collar.<br \/><br \/><b>25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?<\/b><br \/><br \/>RAPE SENATORS.<br \/><br \/><b>26. What was the best book you read?<\/b><br \/><br \/>This is hard because when I think about things I read this year that just blew me away...they're all works of fan fiction rather than books.<br \/><br \/><b>27. What was your greatest musical (re)discovery?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Probably Florence + the Machine, who I knew about but holy shit soundtrack of Derek Hale's life.<br \/><br \/><b>28. What did you want and get?<\/b><br \/><br \/>A fucking amazing Avengers movie. A fucking amazing Spider-Man movie (see what I did there?!?).<br \/><br \/><b>29. What did you want and not get?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I still have not figured out a way to stop leaving my flash drive plugged into my work computer when I leave for the day. In fact, I had to go back to work today to get it in order to be able to post this tonight, and work on some stories tomorrow. So much wasted time and gas! <br \/><br \/>I've tried putting my car keys with it, leaving notes on my jacket, setting an alarm on my phone to remind me to grab it before I leave, etc etc. But today was a perfect storm of failure of the failsafes (different set of keys because garage door is broken, left work early due to holiday, didn't wear a jacket because it wasn't that cold) and I ended up driving back to get it AGAIN. <br \/><br \/>(I can't use any online stuff like Dropbox or Google Docs to access stuff I'm working on, because it's all blocked by the office Web Washer. Thus I've resorted to flash drives.)<br \/><br \/><b>30. What was your favorite film of this year?<\/b><br \/><br \/><i>Avengers<\/i>!! Second would be <i>Amazing Spider-Man.<\/i> Honorable mention to <i>The Bourne Legacy<\/i>.<br \/><br \/><b>31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?<\/b><br \/><br \/>I turned 41, and celebrated early on Avengers weekend with my BFFGs (Best Friend Fangirls) &lt;3 &lt;3 On my actual birthday, which was a Saturday, I had the best day. I rode my horse in the morning, and went for a short hike, and ate strawberries and cream on the patio, and then went to see <i>The Avengers<\/i>, and then went out to dinner with my immediate family and had raw oysters and creme brulee and it RULED.<br \/><br \/><b>32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Less cancer. WAY LESS CANCER.<br \/><br \/><b>33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2012?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Black and made by LL Bean or Old Navy.<br \/><br \/><b>34. What kept you sane?<\/b><br \/><br \/>My horse, assorted fansquishies online.<br \/><br \/><b>35. Which celebrity\/public figure\/fictional character did you fancy the most?<\/b><br \/><br \/>Oh, Derek Hale. You suffer so prettily.<br \/><br \/><b>36. What political issue stirred you the most?<\/b><br \/><br \/>RAPE SENATORS.<br \/><br \/><b>37. Who did you miss?<\/b><br \/><br \/>My friend Marcia. :(<br \/><br \/><b>38. Who was the best new person you met?<\/b><br \/><br \/>There are so many! I've met so many awesome people via Avengers and Teen Wolf fandoms, many of them on Tumblr.<br \/><br \/><b>39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2012<\/b><br \/><br \/>Don't keep the bottle of nail polish remover next to the bottle of eye makeup remover. <br \/><br \/><b>40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.<\/b><br \/><br \/><i>I want love to walk right up and bite me<br \/>Grab a hold of me and fight me, leave me dying on the ground<\/i><br \/><br \/>I guess if you've read any of my Teen Wolf stories that makes a lot of sense. <br \/><br \/><a name='cutid1-end'><\/a><a name='cutid1-end'><\/a><br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/686189.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/e8af78f32ba6235076f69073699687f3acedb62013441633fa8a8180cac3dd7b\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW3zwI51Bv:8KNels0IFTg0V1G6IKAQlQ\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:841717","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/841717.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=841717"}}],"title":"Podfic!","published":"2013-01-01T00:29:24Z","updated":"2013-02-12T18:55:41Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"podfic"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fanfiction: derek hale\/stiles stilinski"}}],"content":"Fandom has given me one last lovely treat for 2012. This year has been so amazing for me fannishly, SO AMAZING. Thank you to everyone who has been a part of it. This is my joy. &lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3<br \/><br \/>The wonderful <span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/mistressjinx.dreamwidth.org\/profile\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/a31c26fed898bf6654de22754ee78db16f18c34edc3550f4e730b8427f977b7f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUEMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT056GQJiv05e0zTaZg1RFEYV0g0o-lRBm3nIevQ:-nysiOjwZ9m5fa0wE0OnKg\" alt=\"[personal profile] \" width=\"17\" height=\"17\" style=\"vertical-align: text-bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/mistressjinx.dreamwidth.org\/\" target=\"_blank\"><b>mistressjinx<\/b><\/a><\/span>\/<span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/www.archiveofourown.org\/users\/jinxy\/profile\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/a9f103b0c55f2d4407af273f0b346bd84163276626ec162964f4bdf37d94d696\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h03lyBT7tFit_V_A3GmtarRkU0BwhxH1t4tU1b0jTdbEFY:TjE7kBZtTmNzs6Y2qM-ewQ\" alt=\"[archiveofourown.org profile] \" style=\"vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" width=\"16\" height=\"16\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/www.archiveofourown.org\/users\/jinxy\/\" target=\"_blank\"><b>jinxy<\/b><\/a><\/span> has podficced my Derek\/Stiles story <i>Love, Like a Sentence of Death<\/i>! *__*<br \/><br \/><center><br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/bf9fb2a303836558a7631057a5e1382e1c9e635fa9a9863f84544681a9d3b7d9\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkxJEkQJkREw-lYAj3HGO-OI40JJ6htxLVDx:v0p9V7IbbvdTrDtxTRyJ4g\" fetchpriority=\"high\"><br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/617264\" target=\"_blank\">AO3 Link!<\/a><br \/><br \/><br \/><\/center><br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/685846.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/15982f115205911017405c4ade2f8e31e90900b61757dc0c34f99bb336aa38ec\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW3DUE6FBv:KnAB7t-L821ZWVM4y_ljaw\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:841257","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/841257.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=841257"}}],"title":"FIC: Jinx Removing (Teen Wolf) Derek Hale\/Stiles Stilinski (Explicit)","published":"2012-12-17T15:21:54Z","updated":"2013-02-12T20:08:53Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"fanfiction: derek hale\/stiles stilinski"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"teen wolf"}}],"content":"<b>Title:<\/b> Jinx Removing<br \/><b>Summary:<\/b> \"Derek wished he would sit down or take his jacket off or something; anything that would indicate he was going to stay for more than a few minutes.\" This is an alternate universe version of the apartment scene in my story <i>Love, Like a Sentence of Death.<\/i><br \/><b>Fandom:<\/b> Teen Wolf<br \/><b>Relationships:<\/b> Derek Hale\/Stiles Stilinski<br \/><b>Rating:<\/b> Explicit<br \/><b>Words:<\/b> ~6,000 <br \/><b>Spoilers:<\/b> General for seasons one and two.<br \/><b>Warnings:<\/b> None come to mind. <br \/><b>Availability:<\/b> <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/841257.html\" target=\"_blank\">LiveJournal<\/a> || <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/685758.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> || <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/596067\" target=\"_blank\">AO3<\/a>   <br \/><b>Podfic:<\/b> Available <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/626138\" target=\"_blank\">here<\/a> by <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"anatsuno\" lj:user=\"anatsuno\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/anatsuno.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/anatsuno.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>anatsuno<\/b><\/a><\/span>.<br \/><b>Disclaimer:<\/b> Not mine. <br \/><b>Thanks:<\/b> To <span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/musesfool.dreamwidth.org\/profile\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/c5185b31ad40424a3360f3e79c27f7998a363023d26ead924fa3d8b27f977b7f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT056GQJiv05e0zTaZg1RFEYV0g0o-lRBm3nIevQ:JtlnqPvflLh4ITeazGiv7w\" alt=\"[personal profile] \" width=\"17\" height=\"17\" style=\"vertical-align: text-bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/musesfool.dreamwidth.org\/\" target=\"_blank\"><b>musesfool<\/b><\/a><\/span> for beta reading. <br \/><b>Notes:<\/b> This is a wee ficlet for luthorchickv2, who is awesome and leaves the most wonderful little messages in my Tumblr Ask. &lt;3 &lt;3<br \/><b>Transformative Works Policy:<\/b> <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/users\/DevilDoll\/profile\" target=\"_blank\">Can be found here.<\/a><br \/><b>Posted:<\/b> December 17th, 2012<br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><b>Jinx Removing<\/b><br \/><br \/>Derek had a new place to live and a big shiny TV the second time Stiles came home for Christmas, a year and a half of college under his belt already. <br \/><br \/>\"I got that book you wanted,\" Derek said. \"You could come over and get it.\" He tried not to sound too hopeful. They were standing around outside Starbucks, where they'd run into each other by accident. The accident being that Derek had seen Stiles pulling into the parking lot and immediately done a U-turn.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, that'd be great,\" Stiles said, only half paying attention. Someone kept texting him, and he kept responding. It was probably Scott, who was never going to stop banging up against the boundaries of Derek's life, no matter how badly they both wished it were otherwise. \"Where you living now? Scrap yard? Old sewer pipe?\"<br \/><br \/>\"You know what? Forget it,\" Derek said, and walked away, angry at himself for even extending the offer, for spending months trying to find the book, for looking forward to seeing him.<br \/><br \/>\"Hey, now,\" Stiles said, trotting after him. Derek walked faster. \"I was joking! Don't get your pretty little werewolf panties in a twist.\" Derek ignored him.<br \/><br \/>When Derek got to his car, Stiles grabbed his arm, around his biceps, hard enough that the leather of his jacket creaked. Derek's whole middle felt hollow, like everything that should be there had fallen right out.<br \/><br \/>\"Don't storm off,\" Stiles said. He'd put his phone away while they were walking, and was actually looking at Derek now. \"I'm sorry, okay?\" He gave Derek's arm a friendly squeeze before letting go. <br \/><br \/>Derek jerked his arm like he'd wanted Stiles to let go anyway. \"You're a dick,\" he said, glaring at Stiles' annoying, contrite face. His hair was longer than Derek had ever seen it, his cheekbones more pronounced, and it made him look at lot older than Derek remembered. \"And you're not funny.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm very funny,\" Stiles shot back, grinning. \"You're just out of practice.\"<br \/><br \/>That was part of the problem, actually. Derek had barely seen him in the last eighteen months. A few hours here and there, when he was home; summers and long weekends and school breaks, all so few and far between. He'd thought it would help, being away from Stiles for months at a time. It hadn't.<br \/><br \/>\"So give me your address,\" Stiles said, and took his phone back out.<br \/><br \/>After a moment of obvious hesitation, Derek said, \"The scrap yard,\" careful to keep his face expressionless.<br \/><br \/>Stiles winced with not just his whole face, but his entire body. It was so familiar, so much like the Stiles who used to be underfoot all the time, that it made Derek's heart ache. \"Oh, man. I'm really sorry. I didn't\u2014\"<br \/><br \/>\"That was a joke,\" Derek said, and then, after a beat: \"You're out of practice.\"<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>Derek's new place was actually a two bedroom apartment in a building with a gym and secure underground parking. He was on the fourth floor, and could see the Preserve, a comforting patch of lush green, from his bedroom window. It was a real home, the kind of place someone might want to come and visit, and maybe spend the night, or just hang out and do nothing. That hadn't happened yet, though.<br \/><br \/>\"I gotta admit, dude, this is not what I pictured,\" Stiles said, as he stood in the living room and looked around. He was wearing two shirts and a jacket, all that fabric bunching around his shoulders as he shoved his hands in his pockets. Derek wished he would sit down or take his jacket off or something; anything that would indicate he was going to stay for more than a few minutes. <br \/><br \/>\"You want something to drink?\" Derek asked him. \"I've got Gatorade. Or soda.\" There was a whole twelve pack of Dr. Pepper in the fridge, Stiles' favorite.<br \/><br \/>\"Nah, no thanks.\" Stiles wandered over to the TV mounted on the wall and ran one finger appreciatively along the bottom edge. \"I gave up drinks with sugar in them. They're terrible for you.\"<br \/><br \/>When Derek didn't say anything, Stiles turned back toward him. \"So. You said you had that book?\" Everything about Stiles, his normally expressive face, his ever-moving hands, was so still and closed off. Like he didn't really want to be here.<br \/><br \/>Derek's own face felt like a chunk of wood. \"Yeah, I'll just...I'll be right back,\" he said, and didn't look at Stiles when he walked past him on the way to the bedroom. <br \/><br \/>The book was on the dresser, had been there for weeks, the first thing Derek looked at every morning when he woke up. Now he barely glanced at it as he scooped it up and walked back to the living room. It was a stupid thing to pin so many hopes on, anyway.<br \/><br \/>Stiles was still on his feet, over by the window now, and still wearing his jacket. When Derek walked back into the room, Stiles' eyes went immediately to the book in his hands. <br \/><br \/>\"Here you go,\" Derek said, and handed it to him indifferently, like he hadn't spent a year and several hundred dollars acquiring it, and the last two months obsessing over giving it to him<br \/><br \/>\"Wow. You really got it,\" Stiles said, and started flipping through it immediately. \"How'd you find this? Fewer than fifty known copies, they think.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Just lucky,\" Derek shrugged, staring at Stiles' hands as he turned the pages, and his teeth as they pulled at his bottom lip. It felt like there was no air in the room at all.<br \/><br \/>Stiles finally looked up at him, and his smile was warm and genuine, and almost unbearable. \"Cool,\" he said. \"Thanks.\"<br \/><br \/>\"It's good to see you,\" Derek blurted. The words sounded awkward and corny, and he wanted to cringe.<br \/><br \/>Stiles tilted his head, like a dog trying to understand what you were saying to it. \"You're acting...really weird,\" he said, confirming that this whole thing was a disaster.<br \/><br \/>Derek had no idea what he could possibly say to that. It was true, he knew he was acting weird, because he'd never done anything like this before. \"You should probably get going,\" was what came out of his mouth. He'd already botched it--best to just cut his losses and end the whole thing as soon as possible.<br \/><br \/>Stiles lifted his eyebrows at him. \"I just got here.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You can keep the book,\" Derek said stiffly, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans so he wouldn't be tempted to touch him. <br \/><br \/>Stiles looked down at the book in his hands, and then back up at Derek, but didn't meet his eyes. \"All right. Thanks.\"<br \/><br \/>Derek walked him to the door, feeling sick inside. He'd messed the whole thing up so quickly it was almost unreal. But this was it, this was probably the last excuse he'd ever have to be alone with Stiles again. As soon as he walked out that door, it was all done.<br \/><br \/>\"Stiles, wait--,\" Derek said, at the same time Stiles turned back, face contorted with anger, and said, \"I don't want the freakin' book.\" He held it out, jabbing at the air in front of Derek's nose with it. There was a blotch of red over each of his cheekbones.<br \/><br \/>\"It's for you,\" Derek said, flinching away. \"I want you to have it. I want\u2026\" But Derek couldn't even begin to explain everything he wanted, so he grabbed Stiles by his shirts and kissed him.<br \/><br \/>It was a terrible first kiss. Awkward and too hard, the corner of the book poking Derek in the sternum. There was a mortifying moment where Stiles didn't do anything, and Derek imagined having to let go of him, step back and look him in the eye and then stand there while Stiles muddled through a polite rejection while Derek pretended he wasn't being gutted alive.<br \/><br \/>Then Stiles surged forward and shoved the book at Derek, pushed it flat against his chest until Derek had no choice but to grab it with both hands. That left Stiles' hands free, and he used them to clutch at Derek's face and tilt his head and kiss him back. Stiles' mouth was eager and greedy, and all Derek could do was stand there and be kissed.<br \/><br \/>\"Is this why you asked me to come over?\" Stiles asked, when he backed off a little, tongue rolling over his own bottom lip. He was still holding onto Derek's face.<br \/><br \/>\"Yes,\" Derek said, voice like a rusty hinge. \"Is that okay?\"<br \/><br \/>\"God, yes,\" Stiles said, and kissed him again. This time Derek kept one eye open enough to toss the stupid book toward the couch. He missed.<br \/><br \/>\"Where's your bedroom?\" Stiles mumbled, as Derek shoved his hands up the back of Stiles' shirts.<br \/><br \/>That was a little faster than Derek had imagined this going, but Stiles had been away at school for almost two years, and had probably done all of this and more with a lot of different people. Derek had tried not to think about it too much.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, okay,\" Derek said, spinning them so he could back Stiles down the hallway without having to take his mouth off of him. Stiles struggled out of his jacket somewhere in there, laughter buzzing against Derek's tongue as he sucked on Stiles' throat.<br \/><br \/>The bed was unmade, the sheets due to be changed, but Stiles didn't seem to notice or care. He somehow tumbled Derek onto his back and peeled his shirt off of him at the same time, then stood next to the bed and yanked both his own shirts off as one, tossing them over his shoulder.<br \/><br \/>Last time he'd been home he'd told Derek he'd been doing some crazy workout thing at school, lifting tractor tires and logs and stuff, and it showed. He was all muscle and bone, hard ridges running up his ribs, biceps bigger than Derek remembered. Derek leaned back on his elbows and stared as Stiles finished stripping; Stiles was already hard, and bigger than Derek had imagined, flushed dark red. <br \/><br \/>Derek felt like he should be doing something else besides gawking, but he didn't know what. He'd somehow pictured lots of slow making out on the couch, maybe working up to this point after a few evenings spent together, and now he wasn't sure what to do.<br \/><br \/>It didn't matter much. Stiles wasn't having that problem at all. \"Take your clothes off, take your clothes off,\" he said urgently, hands quick and inescapable as he yanked off Derek's boots and pants and underwear, flinging them wherever, and then came down on top of him. Derek sucked in a startled breath at all the skin on skin contact, his hips jerking when their hard cocks touched, like a jolt of electricity that went right to his gut.<br \/><br \/>\"God, you look even better than I remembered,\" Stiles murmured, sitting back to straddle Derek's thighs as he dragged his palms down Derek's chest. He'd grown into his hands at some point when Derek wasn't paying attention. They were still big, bigger than Derek's, but now they fit the rest of his body, confident and strong. Derek had thought about Stiles' hands a lot, and how they would look on his thighs, skimming up his ribcage.<br \/><br \/>\"C'mere. Kiss me,\" Derek said, urging him back down, and Stiles grinned at him as he complied, stretching out so their legs slotted together. Derek rolled them so he was on top, and then dragged his mouth down the center of Stiles' body, tonguing the pattern of grooves on his stomach as he tentatively reached for Stiles' dick and ran his fingers lightly up and down. It was smooth and hot, and he heard Stiles' breath catch as he touched it.<br \/><br \/>When Derek opened his mouth against the fuzzy skin just below Stiles' bellybutton, Stiles lifted his hips and said, \"Yeah.\" The wet tip of his cock bumped against Derek's face as his hand on Derek's head urged him downward, and Derek went.<br \/><br \/>\"Oh my God, this is like sixty percent of my fantasies from my junior year of high school,\" Stiles said, as Derek settled between his spread legs and leaned down over him. Derek had never blown anyone before, so he tried to keep his teeth out of the way and hoped his lack of experience didn't show. He mouthed at Stiles slowly, taking his time, relieved to find he liked doing it, until he felt brave enough to suck lightly on the head.<br \/><br \/>\"You look so good like this. So good,\" Stiles groaned, and held Derek still by the back of his neck as he nudged slowly up into his mouth, careful not to choke him. Derek breathed through his nose and tried not to rut against the bed as he worked his tongue until Stiles groaned again. Derek felt Stiles' leg twitch, knee bumping against his ribs, and he let go of Derek's neck, even though Derek hadn't minded that at all. <br \/><br \/>Left to his own volition, Derek bobbed his head up and down a few times, cautiously at first, and then, when he got a little more confident, going down until his throat rebelled and he had to come back up. Stiles almost seemed more interested in watching Derek than in what he was doing to him, and Derek didn't know if that was a compliment to his looks or an indictment of his blowjob technique, but he thought he was doing a pretty good job until Stiles grabbed him by the ears and gently eased him off. Derek came up reluctantly, his mouth feeling hot and used. <br \/><br \/>\"We really, really need to fuck,\" Stiles panted. His hair was sticking up in crazy tufts, and his face and chest were flushed pink. \"You have anything?\"<br \/><br \/>\"In the drawer,\" Derek said, surprised by how hoarse he sounded. He had condoms and lube, purchased the last time Stiles had come home on a break, never used.<br \/><br \/>Stiles was already crawling across the tangle of blankets to get to the little table next to the bed. He reached in and tore a condom off the strip and then dug around until he found the little bottle of lube. When he turned back he rolled to his knees and tossed them both on the bed.<br \/><br \/>\"Pick your poison,\" Stiles said, smirking a little when he saw the way Derek was staring at his body, at his hard cock, red and wet and ready for anything.<br \/><br \/>It took Derek a second to figure out what Stiles was asking; he hadn't really gotten to this point in many of his fantasies yet. Mostly it was blowjobs, and kissing, and kissing after blowjobs. Mostly it was just Stiles wanting him back.<br \/><br \/>He reached out and picked up the condom, and then, after a second's hesitation, handed it to Stiles.<br \/><br \/>\"This just keeps getting better and better,\" Stiles said, grinning. Derek rolled over onto his stomach.<br \/><br \/>Stiles talked to him the whole time he loosened him up, pressing his open mouth to the small of his back, murmuring against his skin. It was better than Derek had dared imagine, actually, Stiles so focused on him and so appreciative, and at one point when Stiles fell silent, Derek whined, \"Keep talking,\" and Stiles <i>did<\/i>.<br \/><br \/>One finger felt good, two felt great, pressing into him with a confidence Derek's own fingers lacked when he was experimenting all by himself in bed. Stiles was also able to get a much better angle, one that left Derek clutching at the wrinkled sheets and gritting his teeth, pulling his knees up under him so he could rock back onto Stiles' fingers.<br \/><br \/>Three fingers was a stretch that slowly gave way to pleasure, and then Stiles was closing his teeth on the curve of Derek's ass and saying, \"Are you good? I really want to fuck you now. Is this good?\" in a strained voice.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm good,\" Derek said, rubbing his face against the pillow; sweat was running into his eyes. \"But go slow,\" he added, when he felt Stiles line himself up.<br \/><br \/>Stiles did go slow, but it was still just shy of overwhelming as he gradually worked himself inside. All the air left Derek's body in a rush, like it was trying to make room for Stiles, who felt huge and impossibly hard, like he was never going to fit, like he was never going to get the last inch in. <br \/><br \/>\"Wow,\" Stiles said, vague and stoner-like. Derek could feel his thumbs holding him open as he pressed forward. \"You're really--how long has it been since you did this?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Never,\" Derek said, trying to breathe, trying not to move.<br \/><br \/>Stiles froze, and his voice was sharper, not vague at all when he said, \"Dude, are you serious?\" <br \/><br \/>\"Don't stop,\" Derek gritted out, because he already knew what was going to happen next. He reached back to grab onto Stiles' thigh, following Stiles' hips with his own when Stiles tried to ease back out. \"I'm fine.\"<br \/><br \/>He wasn't exactly fine. It wasn't just the stretch of accommodating Stiles that was leaving Derek reeling\u2014it was the shockingly intimate feeling of sharing the same space with another person's body. It was nothing and everything like he'd remembered, maybe because this time he was experiencing it in reverse. But now that he knew what it was like to do it with Stiles, he wasn't going to let him stop halfway through.<br \/><br \/>Derek dug his fingers into the back of Stiles' thigh until he heard him hiss out a breath, too much, and used his other arm to brace himself against the bed and shove back onto Stiles' cock. Stiles slid home with surprised cry, and that was it, he was all the way in, and Derek let go and dropped down onto his folded arms, sucking in one huge breath after another. <br \/><br \/>\"You haven't changed at all,\" Stiles said, laughing a little as his hands stuttered over Derek's hips.<br \/><br \/>Derek didn't say anything. He knew that wasn't true. <br \/><br \/>Stiles gave him a minute to adjust before he pulled back and then pushed in again, a long, languorous thrust that felt strange and good. Derek choked on a sound he hadn't intended to make and arched his back. Still deep inside him, Stiles dragged his hands down Derek's sides and said, in a voice that made Derek shiver, \"You're unbelievable.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Just do it,\" Derek said, sounding a little shakier than he'd like. \"I need you to\u2014\"<br \/><br \/>And Stiles did. Stiles fucked him like a metronome, steady and deliberate and unerring, while Derek gradually lost his mind beneath him. It was too hard and not hard enough, and too fast and too slow, and he wished he could see Stiles' face and was also glad he couldn't, and through all of it, through a thousand desperate, disjointed thoughts, Stiles just fucked him and fucked him. <br \/><br \/>He didn't do any of the things Derek expected--he didn't speed up when Derek reached down to touch himself, didn't drive into him harder when Derek finally held himself still and just took it, over and over, let Stiles' cock push him closer and closer to orgasm. He just kept going, like he knew that was what Derek needed, and maybe it was; Derek certainly couldn't make up his own mind.<br \/><br \/>Coming with Stiles in him, big and hard and <i>moving<\/i>, wasn't anything he was prepared for, every spasm magnified to an intensity that robbed Derek of his ability to make a sound. His spine curled as he spilled all over his fingers and the bed, ass clenching hard around Stiles, who swore and just <i>went at him<\/i>, fingernails digging into the skin over Derek's hipbones as he held him in place and <i>used<\/i> him. The last few seconds were too intense and not very comfortable, and then Stiles suddenly stopped moving, holding deep and moaning, and it was over.<br \/><br \/>\"That was fucking amazing,\" Stiles panted as he carefully eased out and flopped down onto his back next to Derek, who gratefully pitched forward on to his face and grunted in agreement.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>Later, when Derek woke up, he has hanging onto Stiles with an arm around his ribs, face mashed against his armpit.<br \/><br \/>\"That can't be pleasant,\" Stiles said, when Derek nestled in a little closer. He sounded like he was smiling as his fingers carded through Derek's hair over and over again. <br \/><br \/>It was actually very pleasant. Smell was different for werewolves than it was for humans, Derek knew. He refused to be embarrassed about it, so he didn't budge.<br \/><br \/>\"So have you not been with a lot of guys?\" Stiles asked, and it seemed like he was trying really hard to be casual about it, which made Derek instantly tense up. He'd probably figured that much out even before Derek had admitted to his lack of experience, probably somewhere around the time Derek was inexpertly trying to blow him. Maybe Stiles thought he sucked in bed, and he'd never want to do it again. Just imagining that was like a kick to the gut, but it wouldn't be the worst thing that had happened to Derek after he fucked somebody.<br \/><br \/>\"Just you, actually,\" Derek said. He had no interest in lying about it. It was what it was.<br \/><br \/>Stiles' fingers stopped playing with his hair. \"Are you serious? Derek. Are you serious? You should have said something. I thought--\"<br \/><br \/>\"You thought I fucked everyone who looked at me twice?\" Most people thought that about Derek, from what he could tell.<br \/><br \/>\"Hey.\" Stiles' hand closed around his jaw and tried to get him to lift his head, to look up. When Derek resisted, Stiles said, \"Hey, look at me.\"<br \/><br \/>When Derek did, he expected anger or pity, but instead Stiles looked\u2026guilty. He pressed the pad of his thumb against Derek's lower lip, throat working for a few seconds before he actually spoke.<br \/><br \/>\"That's not what I thought,\" Stiles said, and though Derek wasn't sure that was entirely true, he didn't argue. \"And if it were true, it wouldn't matter to me. But I would have gone a little slower.\"<br \/><br \/>\"It was fine,\" Derek said, and caught Stiles' thumb in his teeth. It tasted like lube and sweat when he touched it with the tip of his tongue.<br \/><br \/>\"Oh, well then,\" Stiles said, eyes rolling. \"It was 'fine.' That's what everyone loves to hear.\"<br \/><br \/>Derek let go of his thumb and leaned up to kiss him instead, because it was starting to feel like they were going to fight, and he didn't want to. \"It was really good,\" he said. <br \/><br \/>Stiles cupped Derek's face in his hands and kissed him back, more gently than he had so far. \"I kind of rushed you, didn't I? I didn't mean to. We've known each other for years and there's been this sexual tension forever, and I just thought\u2014I thought this was it. And you didn't say anything.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm not some blushing virgin,\" Derek said, exasperated, but he wasn't much beyond that, in truth. \"I wanted to do it. I liked it.\" <br \/><br \/>Stiles looked at him for a long moment, eyes searching his face. Eventually, he must have seen what he was looking for, because he relaxed back into the pillow and closed his eyes and said, \"Good. Me, too.\"<br \/><br \/>Stiles' phone chittered from wherever his pants were on the floor, and Derek waited, but Stiles didn't make a move to grab it. He just hummed to himself and lazily rubbed his leg against Derek's.<br \/><br \/>\"You hungry?\" Derek asked hopefully. Stiles seemed inclined to stick around for a while. Maybe they could order something.<br \/><br \/>Stiles thrust his arms over his head and stretched. \"<i>Starving,<\/i>\" he said through a huge, noisy yawn. \"Feed me.\"<br \/><br \/>They got mostly dressed, no underwear or socks, and relocated to the couch. After failed negotiations regarding what constituted a delicious combination of toppings, they ordered two pizzas.<br \/><br \/>While they waited, Stiles retrieved the forgotten book from the floor and lounged on top of Derek as he paged through it. Derek hooked his chin over Stiles' shoulder and pretended to be interested in it, but he still felt a little dazed, trying to adjust to the idea that they'd had sex. Smelling it all over both of them, and sneaking peeks at the little patch of stubble burn on Stiles' jaw, made it seem real. As hungry as Derek was, he almost hated to get up when the delivery guy rang the buzzer.<br \/><br \/>The pizza was perfect, and really greasy. They ate it in front of the television, watching the Charlie Brown Christmas show they both knew by heart from childhood. <br \/><br \/>\"I think you're right about Peppermint Patty and Marcie,\" Derek said after a while.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, it's pretty obvious once someone points it out,\" Stiles agreed. He licked at the trail of yellow grease running down his wrist and asked, \"You have any napkins?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Paper towels,\" Derek said around a mouthful of cheese. He reached to put his slice down, but Stiles got to his feet first.<br \/><br \/>\"I got it,\" he said, and Derek settled back on the couch and thought a little about how nice it was to have someone around who was happy to do a simple thing like grab a couple napkins while you sat on your butt and ate pizza.<br \/><br \/>\"Hey, you have any beer?\" Stiles asked from the kitchen as Derek heard him tear off a couple sheets of toweling. \"I know I'm not old enough to drink,\" he said, before Derek could get those exact words out. \"But you can have one and I can just have a sip or two, it'd be--\"<br \/><br \/>The sound of Stiles' voice died as the refrigerator opened, and Derek stopped chewing as he remembered the Dr. Pepper. <br \/><br \/>Stiles knew Derek didn't like Dr. Pepper, because they used to get into fake arguments over it. Derek hated the sickly sweet stench of it, and Stiles would drink it on purpose if they were in the car together, Derek closed in and unable to escape the smell. Stiles certainly knew the cans of it in the fridge were for him. Which meant Stiles knew Derek was the kind of guy who kept stuff in his house Stiles liked\u2014the house Stiles had never even visited or been invited to before today. He knew Derek thought about him when he was at the grocery store or whatever. <br \/><br \/>The refrigerator closed, and Stiles came back with the towels and a bottle of beer, twisting off the cap, not meeting Derek's eyes. He took the first drink\u2014several long swallows, actually--before handing it to Derek. <br \/><br \/>Stiles sat down on the edge of the couch, not slumped against Derek like he had been before. His face was closed off again, but he was definitely not still--he chewed on his lower lip, blinking his eyes at nothing, as he ran his hands up and down his thighs, the fabric of his pants bunching under the heels of his hands.<br \/><br \/>\"Listen, you should probably know...\" Stiles started to say, and here it comes, Derek thought. He was going to tell Derek the sex was good but he wasn't interested in doing it again, or the sex was terrible and that was why he wasn't interested in doing it again, or he had someone back at school and so he couldn't be with Derek, or he didn't have someone at school and that was still preferable to being with Derek.<br \/><br \/>\"That's okay. It's fine,\" Derek said, helping himself to a few swallows of beer, mostly because his mouth was suddenly dry and his last bite of pizza seemed determined to stick in his throat. <br \/><br \/>Stiles gave him a what the fuck kind of drugs are you on? look. \"What's okay?\" he asked, looking perplexed, because of course he hadn't actually said what he thought Derek should know. <br \/><br \/>\"Whatever you're going to say. It's fine,\" Derek said, and made himself take another bite of pizza and keep his eyes on the television.<br \/><br \/>\"That doesn't even make any sense,\" Stiles said. \"What if I was going to ask you to give me your car?\"<br \/><br \/>\"You can't have my car,\" Derek said automatically. That was another old, more pleasant, fake argument, and he still knew his cue. He took three more deliberate swallows of beer.<br \/><br \/>\"Give me that,\" Stiles said suddenly, sounding irritated. He snatched the bottle right out of Derek's fingers and finished it off, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he took Derek's pizza away, too. He tossed the half-eaten slice back into the box on the coffee table, and Derek didn't dare protest.<br \/><br \/>\"You're infuriating,\" Stiles said, as he put a hand in the center of Derek's chest and pushed him back into the couch, settling over his legs. \"You make me so mad.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I know,\" Derek said, but he put his hands on Stiles' hips, and when he leaned in, Stiles let him kiss him. \"I'm sorry.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Like, seriously angry,\" Stiles said, as his fingers curled into Derek's hair. <br \/><br \/>\"I know,\" Derek said again, and pressed his tongue into Stiles' mouth.<br \/><br \/>They made out on the couch for a long time, the kind of thorough, exploring kisses they hadn't gotten to before. Stiles kissed him over and over again, until he stopped being mad. Then he kissed him some more and told Derek how good-looking he was and how good he smelled and how good he tasted, petting his face and nibbling at his ears and his collarbones as their hips ground together. This was what Derek had often pictured, alone in bed at night or staring at the TV and not really watching it, when he thought about Stiles being here in his apartment. It was even better in reality.<br \/><br \/>\"Can I do this?\" Stiles asked eventually, thumbing the button on Derek's jeans. <br \/><br \/>\"Of course,\" Derek said, blinking up at him. It was a weird question, after they'd already had sex. \"You can do whatever you want.\"<br \/><br \/>Stiles slid to his knees on the floor and pushed Derek's legs apart as he opened Derek's pants. His mouth was red and a little puffy, and Derek's stomach clenched up because he knew what Stiles was about to do with it. He couldn't breathe, couldn\u2019t even blink, as Stiles' long fingers carefully eased him, already achingly hard, out of his pants, careful to avoid the zipper.<br \/><br \/>Derek didn't even try to be quiet when Stiles licked him from his balls all the way to the head of his cock, once and then twice and then over and over, wetting him, tasting him. Each lap of his hot tongue forced another sound out of Derek's body, his heart pounding, sweat prickling the back of his neck and the creases of his elbows as his toes curled against the carpet. <br \/><br \/>It had been a very long time since someone had done this to Derek, and back then he'd been young and overwhelmed, and afterwards he'd spent years trying to forget it, so it was all a blur. This time he was aware of every detail, every soft noise in Stiles' throat, every flutter of his tongue, every twitch of his fingers on Derek's thigh. This was very much real, and very much Stiles. <i>Thank God<\/i> it was Stiles. As he ran his fingers through Stiles' hair, and touched his face where his cheeks hollowed as he sucked, Derek felt something that was a lot like gratitude.<br \/><br \/>Stiles had obviously had a lot more practice at this than Derek had. He used his hand and his mouth together, and kept changing up the pace and the suction, winding him up tighter, making him squirm. Just about the time it started to get unbearable, he took Derek deep, until the head of his cock parted the unbearably hot, soft flesh at the back of his throat, and Derek's head lolled against the back of the couch, half out of his mind when he came, pulsing against Stiles' tongue.<br \/><br \/>Stiles let him gasp at the ceiling for a minute before he climbed back up into his lap and kissed him some more. It was even better this time, with the taste and smell of Derek all over his mouth, on his chin. Derek reached down and cupped his ass in his hands, and Stiles groaned as he pressed forward, his dick bumping at Derek's stomach through their clothes.<br \/><br \/>\"You can touch me if you want,\" he said into Derek's mouth. <br \/><br \/>That seemed backwards to Derek, like this was what they should have done first, all this kissing and asking permission, rather than going straight to fucking. And even though this was what he'd hoped for, now it made him feel a little stupid and childish. But the reality was that the last time Derek had done this, he <i>had been<\/i> stupid and childish, and he'd been kind of stuck at that point ever since when it came to sex. Now they were back in his comfort zone, and Stiles appeared to want to hang out in it for a bit, which probably wasn't an accident; Stiles was backtracking to do all the things they'd skipped over.<br \/><br \/>He got Stiles' pants open and took the same care with the zipper Stiles had for him. Stiles was really, really hard, and had leaked all over himself; having Derek's dick in his mouth had really turned him on, and that was a little thrilling. Stiles made a small noise and twitched his hips when Derek closed his hand around him.<br \/><br \/>\"God, yes, please,\" Stiles said tightly, thrusting into Derek's fist. Derek didn't know much at all about cut dicks except that they were supposed to be less sensitive, so he let his thumb rub against the underside of the head as he stroked him, and Stiles seemed to like that. He clutched at Derek's shoulders and tipped his head back and let Derek jerk him off, until he came all over Derek's shirt.<br \/><br \/>\"Sorry I came all over your shirt,\" was the first thing Stiles said when he caught his breath.<br \/><br \/>\"That's okay,\" Derek said. It was just a plain T-shirt. And it had been worth it.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>\"What I was trying to tell you\u2014\" Stiles started to say, after Derek changed his shirt and they were drowsing on the couch in a tangle. Derek couldn't stop running his fingers across the dips on either side of Stiles' spine, right above his pants.<br \/><br \/>\"You don't have to explain,\" Derek said, because he really didn't need to hear the reason why this was going to be a one-time thing. He didn't blame him, even. Derek hadn't even tried to make it really good for Stiles a few minutes ago, just jerked him off all over his shirt, too eager and inexperienced to think of anything more creative. <br \/><br \/>Stiles turned his head enough to give Derek a warning nip of teeth, quick, right next to his nipple. \"Will you just shut up, and stop with whatever disaster scenario you're concocting in that freaky brain of yours? Please?\"<br \/><br \/>Derek took a deep breath, and then another, and waited. From this angle he couldn't see Stiles' face, and that made him nervous.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm trying to tell you I've had a thing for you for a long time. Not just a sexual tension thing. A big thing. Like, a really big thing. So you don't need to worry.\"<br \/><br \/>Derek stared at the ceiling and let that sink in for a moment. He'd always known that Stiles was attracted to him, but that wasn't really unusual, because even people who didn't particularly like Derek wanted to have sex with him. Derek wasn't an idiot--he knew what he looked like, and that a lot of people found him desirable. For the most part, he just didn't care. <br \/><br \/>Except when it came to Stiles. He'd known for years Stiles wanted to fuck him, but Derek had also wanted Stiles to <i>like him.<\/i> He'd wanted Stiles to spend the night even if they didn't have sex, and have his own toothbrush in Derek's bathroom, and call him from school and tell him he missed him. Those were the kinds of things Derek couldn't take for granted like he did physical attraction; he didn't have the same level of faith in his ability to engender them in another person. <br \/><br \/>But somehow, amazingly, he had.<br \/><br \/>\"Ow!\" Derek said when Stiles pinched his stomach. \"What was that for?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I just told you I've been pining for you for years. It's kind of bullshit you can't admit how you feel about me.\"<br \/><br \/>Derek tightened his arms and rubbed his nose into Stiles' messy hair. \"I can't even put into words how I feel about you,\" he said, just loud enough for Stiles to hear. It was probably the most honest thing he'd ever said to anyone in his whole life. <br \/><br \/>Stiles sighed and snuggled down even further into Derek's body. \"I'll give you some time to work up to it,\" he said. \"Because I'm, like, 99% percent sure you've never done that before, either.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You're right,\" Derek said, closing his eyes. <br \/><br \/>\"But don't take too long,\" Stiles said, after a minute, fingers clutching at Derek's clean T-shirt.<br \/><br \/>\"I won't,\" Derek promised. <br \/><br \/><b>The End<\/b><br \/><br \/><b>Notes:<\/b><br \/><br \/><ul><li>Title comes from the Jawbreaker song of the same name.&lt; li&gt; <br \/><br \/><li>The conversation while they watch the Peanuts Christmas special is about <a href=\"http:\/\/peanuts.wikia.com\/wiki\/Peppermint_Patty_and_Marcie%27s_relationship\" target=\"_blank\">Peppermint Patty and Marcie being girlfriends. &lt;3<\/a><br \/><\/ul><br \/><br \/><center><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/2a47cfe05eb6843524a8ff18eb07f5b66de04683c3201bb9a349c65fadfcc135\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkxPFFwUohs06UMd2Cefdu6I6xhN:DpwEqB5REmHH5qLh1sBcjw\" fetchpriority=\"high\"><br \/><br \/>Podfic available <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/626138\" target=\"_blank\">here<\/a> by <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"anatsuno\" lj:user=\"anatsuno\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/anatsuno.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/anatsuno.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>anatsuno<\/b><\/a><\/span>. <\/center><br \/><br \/><a name='cutid1-end'><\/a><br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/685758.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/31be443f715567fd92061577b2ee1874f3e3ced495566fc653ade9aca4f1a9c3\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW3DoF5lBv:ce5zuYgfBsH0CMUJo8982g\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:841133","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/841133.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=841133"}}],"title":"And more riches! \\o\/","published":"2012-12-08T14:00:29Z","updated":"2012-12-08T14:00:29Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"rule number nine"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"50000 unstoppable watts"}}],"content":"My riding lesson is a little later than usual today. It feels weird to be home at this time on a Saturday morning, but internetting will make the time go faster! My fantastic luck continues. Look at these pretties! &lt;3 &lt;3<br \/><br \/><ul><li><span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/lattice-frames.dreamwidth.org\/profile\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/c5185b31ad40424a3360f3e79c27f7998a363023d26ead924fa3d8b27f977b7f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT056GQJiv05e0zTaZg1RFEYV0g0o-lRBm3nIevQ:JtlnqPvflLh4ITeazGiv7w\" alt=\"[personal profile] \" width=\"17\" height=\"17\" style=\"vertical-align: text-bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/lattice-frames.dreamwidth.org\/\" target=\"_blank\"><b>lattice_frames<\/b><\/a><\/span> recorded my Clint\/Coulson story <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/358143\" target=\"_blank\">50,000 Unstoppable Watts<\/a> as  a <a href=\"http:\/\/lattice-frames.dreamwidth.org\/4100.html\" target=\"_blank\">podfic<\/a>! <br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/1f0e4f8c5be94ba4d811f3b23e05cb143bc60774453a52b9c6c1baa4125cb2b9\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkwQTUYEkg0o_kgLiHjZPfvSvQoergFmaA8:JVDnWe7SqzxjbBzQhe9Brw\" fetchpriority=\"high\"><br \/><br \/>[Image description: Cover for podfic]<\/li><br \/><br \/><li>eiirene made <a href=\"http:\/\/eiirene.tumblr.com\/post\/37427511372\/she-loves-the-necklace-and-steve-is-pretty-proud\" target=\"_blank\">a beautiful piece of art<\/a> for my Steve\/Darcy story <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/558511\" target=\"_blank\">Rule Number Nine<\/a>! (Follow link to see full size in the Tumblr post!)<br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/4c606fba791d34d24b5e8b5391f73aeab76cf25192ca5a6e1ca09ca3d685b518\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkxJHFYVnw088UMMgHvOO-zSvQoergFmaA8:13qBs0nejCkchAzvntrEbw\" loading=\"lazy\"><br \/><br \/>[Image Description: Steve and Darcy and the ladybug necklace.]<\/li><\/ul><br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/685549.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/7453c275d509ee86c050ce2afdc7a6e30a61bd0720d7b4159e3b38bb93389500\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW3DgE51Bv:ZgY12i9u5chj-rExLIh0UQ\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:840745","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/840745.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=840745"}}],"title":"An embarrassment of riches! (Semaphore Edition)","published":"2012-12-08T05:04:27Z","updated":"2012-12-08T05:04:27Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"semaphore"}},"content":"I had intended to post this last week, as I was waiting for my bandwidth allotment to reset for the month before burdening it further, but then last Friday I was suddenly struck down by a cold, and now all of a sudden it's a week later. But I'm finally getting the chance to show off some wonderful things people have made for my Steve\/Tony story <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/314102?view_full_work=true\" target=\"_blank\">Semaphore<\/a>!<br \/><br \/><ul><li>Jessica designed <a href=\"http:\/\/www.redbubble.com\/people\/jessicaking\/works\/9344163-captain-americas-pants-laundry-detergent-and-patriotism\" target=\"_blank\">a T-shirt with the quote about Steve's pants<\/a>! (Follow link to store.)<br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/80042a563763dfc70dfeacbc711a004e889f35007e119be51a54887f986cdd0b\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkxWCVcamAsr_kgbmCSfaKeL_V0SuQ:P3cURNgaFOR9n-z0ueFVjQ\" fetchpriority=\"high\"><br \/><br \/>[Image Description: Steve's pants smell like patriotism.]<\/li><br \/><br \/><li><span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/amezri.dreamwidth.org\/profile\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/c5185b31ad40424a3360f3e79c27f7998a363023d26ead924fa3d8b27f977b7f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT056GQJiv05e0zTaZg1RFEYV0g0o-lRBm3nIevQ:JtlnqPvflLh4ITeazGiv7w\" alt=\"[personal profile] \" width=\"17\" height=\"17\" style=\"vertical-align: text-bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/amezri.dreamwidth.org\/\" target=\"_blank\"><b>amezri<\/b><\/a><\/span> made ebooks, complete with a pretty cover! Download the <a href=\"http:\/\/www.haremuniverse.com\/semaphore\/Devil%20Doll%20-%20Semaphore.mobi\" target=\"_blank\">mobi<\/a> or <a href=\"http:\/\/www.haremuniverse.com\/semaphore\/Devil%20Doll%20-%20Semaphore.epub\" target=\"_blank\">epub<\/a>. <br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/b6ee0b9837a43937666a2134ed7f2de5c6c70b15c34ff63ae7583e6fa8a9ced7\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkxGEkQJj1Uo-ksOm3_AKuzSvQoergFmaA8:A1CG7m08d44Gguc0yQZAbw\" loading=\"lazy\"><br \/><br \/>[Image Description: Cover for Semaphore.]<\/li><br \/><br \/><li>And then, because I hadn't totally lost my mind from joy yet, stormageddonpond made an Avengers vid to \"Tubthumping\" by Chumbawamba. &lt;3 &lt;3<br \/><br \/><lj-embed id=\"3\" \/><\/li><\/ul><br \/><br \/>I'm so lucky, you guys. So lucky. *sparkle hearts everywhere*<br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/685175.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/68eaf9e8a0be45b10ca917c7ebdf4561c84e28819b6359d9b79fdc4cb0ef060a\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW3DwH61Bv:eCVerajIKVilXBIh97hX0A\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:840554","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/840554.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=840554"}}],"title":"FIC: Beltane (Teen Wolf) Derek Hale\/Stiles Stilinski (Explicit)","published":"2012-11-28T12:03:05Z","updated":"2013-02-12T20:54:56Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"fanfiction: derek hale\/stiles stilinski"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"teen wolf"}}],"content":"<b>Title:<\/b> Beltane<br \/><b>Summary:<\/b> \"Watching Stiles heal someone has always been a little uncomfortable for Derek, like he's seeing something intimate and private that shouldn't have an audience. That's nothing compared to how it feels.\" This is an AU in which Stiles has magical healing powers.<br \/><b>Fandom:<\/b> Teen Wolf<br \/><b>Relationships:<\/b> Derek Hale\/Stiles Stilinski<br \/><b>Rating:<\/b> Explicit<br \/><b>Words:<\/b> ~8,000 <br \/><b>Spoilers:<\/b> General for seasons one and two.<br \/><b>Warnings:<\/b> Blood and bodily injury. <br \/><b>Availability:<\/b> <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/840554.html\" target=\"_blank\">LiveJournal<\/a> || <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/684793.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> || <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/576205\" target=\"_blank\">AO3<\/a>  <br \/><b>Podfic:<\/b> Available <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/676196\" target=\"_blank\">here<\/a> by <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"erica_schall\" lj:user=\"erica_schall\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/erica-schall.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/erica-schall.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>erica_schall<\/b><\/a><\/span>.<br \/><b>Disclaimer:<\/b> Not mine. <br \/><b>Thanks:<\/b> To <span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/girlinthetrilby.dreamwidth.org\/profile\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/c5185b31ad40424a3360f3e79c27f7998a363023d26ead924fa3d8b27f977b7f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT056GQJiv05e0zTaZg1RFEYV0g0o-lRBm3nIevQ:JtlnqPvflLh4ITeazGiv7w\" alt=\"[personal profile] \" width=\"17\" height=\"17\" style=\"vertical-align: text-bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/girlinthetrilby.dreamwidth.org\/\" target=\"_blank\"><b>girlinthetrilby<\/b><\/a><\/span> and <span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/musesfool.dreamwidth.org\/profile\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/c5185b31ad40424a3360f3e79c27f7998a363023d26ead924fa3d8b27f977b7f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT056GQJiv05e0zTaZg1RFEYV0g0o-lRBm3nIevQ:JtlnqPvflLh4ITeazGiv7w\" alt=\"[personal profile] \" width=\"17\" height=\"17\" style=\"vertical-align: text-bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/musesfool.dreamwidth.org\/\" target=\"_blank\"><b>musesfool<\/b><\/a><\/span> for beta reading. <br \/><b>Notes:<\/b> I had a lot of inspiration for this story from fellow fans, so please see the notes at the end for the list of beautiful fanworks that made this story grow in my head. &lt;3<br \/><b>Transformative Works Policy:<\/b> <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/users\/DevilDoll\/profile\" target=\"_blank\">Can be found here.<\/a><br \/><b>Posted:<\/b> November 28th, 2012<br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><b>Beltane<\/b><br \/><br \/><i>I was looking for a breath of life<br \/>A little touch of heavenly light<br \/>But all the choirs in my head sang no <br \/><br \/><b>--Breath of Life, Florence + The Machine<\/b><\/i><br \/><br \/>Derek practically drives the car right into his new front porch, his hands sticky on the steering wheel, blurry spots in his vision, the smell of his own blood thick in his nose. He grays out for a second, until his wobbling head cracks against the window, startling him back to consciousness. The cold rain wakes him up a little more when he gets out of the car, but he almost goes to his knees anyway, pain tearing across his middle like the knife is still cutting into him. He leaves the car door hanging open, the chime dinging at him over and over as he stumbles toward the house. <br \/><br \/>It takes three tries to get his key in the lock, smearing a bloody handprint where he's holding himself up against the front door\u2014the door that's also new, and reinforced. He closes that one behind him at least, shaking fingers twisting the deadbolt into place, and he makes it through the foyer and into the bathroom before he goes down hard. He tries to catch himself, but his hands, slick with blood and rain, skid on the floor, and he nearly screams when he lands on his torn belly. This time he can't get up. The last thing he sees is a puddle of blood spreading across the tile under his arm, growing and growing, and not stopping.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>\"Oh my God!\" Scott says, and his face is terrified when he rolls Derek over onto his back, spreading his jacket open, tugging his shirt up. The bathroom light is too bright, stabbing at Derek's eyes as his hands instinctively try to cover his stomach, unable to fight the urge to protect himself, to hide any vulnerability. <br \/><br \/>\"Don't move! Don't move!\" Scott's voice is laced with panic, his nervous hands hovering over Derek's shredded abdomen, uncertain. He's got a gash on his chin and his hair is soaking wet, dripping icy water onto Derek's face.<br \/><br \/>Derek tries to say something, but all that comes out is an unintelligible noise. His entire body feels cold, and his teeth want to chatter when he unlocks his jaw.<br \/><br \/>\"Hang on, I'm calling Stiles,\" Scott says, and he digs in his pocket for his phone with one hand, and gives Derek's shoulder what is probably supposed to be a reassuring squeeze with the other.<br \/><br \/>\"Don't,\" Derek grits out. That's the last thing he wants. Not Stiles. Stiles will want to touch him, heal him, put his hands on--<br \/><br \/>Scott looks at him, baffled, and asks, \"What? Why?\" and then Stiles must pick up because he says into the phone, \"I found him. It's bad. Can you come?\"<br \/><br \/>\"No,\" Derek says, but now he can't even make it sound like an order, and Scott doesn\u2019t take orders from him anyway. That's the last thing he remembers until Stiles is there, kneeling down next to him and pressing his palm to Derek's forehead, soothing and warm. His hands are so warm. Derek has to fight the urge to close his eyes and whimper at how good it feels.<br \/><br \/>\"Why isn't he healing on his own?\" Stiles asks Scott. He tugs Derek's shirt up a little more, but much more gently than Scott had. Derek tries to curl in on himself, pushing at the floor with his heels to roll away, but Stiles holds him down easily, which is when Derek finally realizes just how bad off he is. \"These don't look like claw wounds.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I think it was some kind of mystical knife or something,\" Scott says. \"He got it away from her and he stabbed her with it and\u2026\"<br \/><br \/>Stiles looks up sharply at Scott when he trails off. \"And what?\"<br \/><br \/>\"And she died,\" Scott says, swallowing hard. \"Like, right away. He got her in the heart and it killed her.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh, shit,\" Stiles says. Derek can't meet his eyes when Stiles looks at his face.<br \/><br \/>Scott's phone dings, breaking the awful silence. \"Boyd and Erica are with Isaac,\" Scott says after he checks it. \"They've got the last one cornered.\" The alpha pack had done an admirable job of separating Derek's pack before moving in for the kill, but it's going to be over soon. At least this wasn't all for nothing. <br \/><br \/>\"We'll be fine. Go,\" Stiles says, shrugging out of his damp jacket. He's wearing a plain white T-shirt that's probably going to have blood all over it really soon. His tattoos, a mosaic of knots and runes and mystical symbols woven together over his sinewy arms in lurid red ink, look even darker next to the stark whiteness of his shirt. \"I said go,\" he says, a little less nicely, when Scott hesitates. <br \/><br \/>\"Are you sure?\" Scott asks, obviously torn, but he's already shuffled back a few steps, unconsciously drifting toward the door.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm sure,\" Stiles says, eyes flicking up to Derek's face and then back to the cuts on his abdomen. \"And Derek's too out of it to have an opinion.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Am not,\" Derek slurs, just to be contrary. He hates being talked about like he's not here.<br \/><br \/>\"Shhh,\" Stiles says, in a completely different tone of voice than he used with Scott, and gently rubs a hand over Derek's wet hair. Derek can't help the grateful sound he makes. He's hurting so bad, and even if Stiles can't help him, just seeing him, hearing his voice, letting the familiar smell of him crowd out the stench of his own blood, is a comfort. Despite his earlier protests, if Derek had to choose someone to be here with him while he--right now--he'd choose Stiles.<br \/><br \/>\"Call me if you need to,\" Scott says, and is gone in an instant.  <br \/><br \/>Stiles takes a deep breath and holds his tattooed hands over Derek's stomach, fanning his fingers out. <br \/><br \/>\"I don't want\u2014\" Derek starts, trying to push at Stiles' hands, but Stiles catches Derek's hands easily and presses them to the floor, clucking his tongue at him like a scolding parent.<br \/><br \/>\"Let me help you,\" Stiles says, when Derek keeps resisting. \"Derek, stop. Let me fix you.\"<br \/><br \/><i>No one can fix me<\/i>, Derek wants to say, but before he can, Stiles touches him.<br \/><br \/>Derek is instantly glad Scott isn't here to see it. Watching Stiles heal someone has always been a little uncomfortable for Derek, like he's seeing something intimate and private that shouldn't have an audience. That's nothing compared to how it feels. <br \/><br \/>Stiles presses his big, strong hands over the worst of the cuts, and his eyes get an eerily unfocused look, like he's looking at something faraway that no one else can see. His fingers, still so reassuringly warm against Derek's chilled skin, feel like they're vibrating, sending a bone-deep hum through Derek's body. <br \/><br \/>The tattoos on Stiles' arms start to glow, softly at first, and then slowly brighter, tinting everything in the room a soothing golden red, and it feels good, it feels so warm and so good. Every pleasure center in Derek's brain lights up and his back arches as his eyes roll back in his head, and it's all he can do to not moan as everything that's always been so right about Stiles flows into him. Loyalty and love and joy, burning right through to the rotten core of him where Derek is weak and broken and worthless.<br \/><br \/>He thinks he says Stiles' name, and that Stiles says his back. He wants to tell him not to stop, because he's never felt like this, even before his life went to shit and he killed almost everyone he loved. He'll probably never feel like this again, this pure, guilt-free pleasure.<br \/><br \/>But Stiles does stop. He's kind enough to make it gradual, easing Derek out of it a little at a time, like slowly floating to the surface in warm, clean water.  As the rush starts to fade, the pain in his middle comes back, a dull throb that sharpens momentarily with each breath, but it's much better than it was before. It's definitely bearable. <br \/><br \/>When Derek opens his eyes, Stiles is looking down at him worriedly. His hands are still on Derek's stomach, thumbs moving in slow circles over the healed skin, a welcome distraction from the way everything still hurts just beneath.  <br \/><br \/>Derek's whole body is tingling and he doesn't think he can talk yet. His chest feels strange, not like he's hurt, but more\u2026open. Like there's all kinds of room in it, instead of being clogged full of anger and fear. <br \/><br \/>\"Sorry,\" Stiles says hoarsely. \"Got a little carried away.\"<br \/><br \/>Derek's seen this part, too, when the person Stiles heals usually looks a little out of it afterwards, almost drunk. He flops a hand out to rest on Stiles' knee, the closest thing he can do to thanking him.<br \/><br \/>When Stiles covers it with one of his own, his fingers are caked with Derek's blood. The runes on his arms are still glowing faintly, each mysterious shape outlined with a thin thread of yellow light, soft and inviting. Derek wants to run his finger along each and every loop and curve, follow their winding path up his arm and under the sleeve of his shirt, trace the tendril that spiders up his neck and disappears behind his ear. But that's nothing new.<br \/><br \/>\"What did you do to me?\" Derek mumbles, trying to lace his fingers through Stiles' and mostly failing, until Stiles does it for him. He can smell the faint whiff of ozone that shows up in Stiles' scent whenever he heals someone, and it makes him wrinkle his nose, because he associates it with something he's spent years avoiding.<br \/><br \/>\"I healed you,\" Stiles says, but he smiles nervously and doesn't meet Derek's eyes. Derek's seen Stiles heal other people a hundred times and it never looked like it felt like\u2014like what Derek just felt. Like Stiles was <i>in<\/i> him. Like Stiles\u2014<br \/><br \/>\"I think I went a little overboard,\" Stiles says, and bites his bottom lip.<br \/><br \/>He's hiding something, but Derek doesn't have the energy to pursue it. And he's not sure he wants to know, anyway. He would rather just lie here and look at Stiles, because he never really gets to look his fill, afraid of getting caught staring, and is always hungry for the sight of him.<br \/><br \/>Stiles is looking down at their joined hands, but if that bothers him he doesn't say anything. Derek can see the crooked fuzz of his hairline, a tender cheekbone with a rusty smudge of blood on it, an ear with a thick black metal plug through the lobe, a tiny rune etched into it. Derek knows there's a matching one in the other ear. <br \/><br \/>Derek once heard Stiles tell Isaac they were for protection, and his eyes had darted to Derek when he said it, like maybe he was the thing Stiles needed protection from, and Derek had never forgotten it, never forgotten how much it had felt like being punched in the face. Thinking about it doesn't bother him as much as it usually does, like the sting has been blunted. Whatever mojo Stiles works on people, it's making Derek feel like nothing can touch him right now. <br \/><br \/>They stay like that for a bit, still holding hands, which Derek thinks he should not do, but fuck it. He almost died. Stiles' other hand is still resting on Derek's belly, and it's a testament to how badly he's hurt that Stiles' fingers stroking the skin an inch above his belt is nothing but comforting right now.<br \/><br \/>Derek thinks he could fall asleep like this, safe and watched over, but then he feels a slick rush of warmth down his side as the pain comes roaring back and Stiles says, \"Oh, shit.\" The cuts are opening up, flesh curling back, splitting him in two again, blood leaking out onto the floor. This has never happened before to someone Stiles has healed, as far as Derek knows.<br \/><br \/>Stiles slaps his hands down over the cuts, face ashen and frightened, and Derek feels the tingle in his bones as the hazy golden glow of the runes fills his vision again. It's not as intense this time, so either he's getting used to it or Stiles is holding back, but his toes curl in his boots as the endorphin rush rolls over him, leaving him feeling oddly sated but hungry to be touched. When Stiles lifts his hands away, Derek catches one in his and holds onto it tightly, not ready to go without any contact at all.  <br \/><br \/>Stiles threads their fingers together again and rubs his thumb over Derek's knuckles, waiting. They watch silently as the wounds open again, and then again, and another time after that, though it takes a little longer each time. Stiles keeps putting his hands on Derek, and Derek keeps bleeding, and finally Derek says, \"Stiles, stop,\" because Stiles is pale and shaking and he's probably going to kill himself trying to save Derek.<br \/><br \/>Stiles' hands clench into fists as Derek grabs onto his wrists, holding his hands away so he can't touch the cuts, and that's a good sign already, that he has the strength to do that much at least.<br \/><br \/>\"It's good, you slowed it down. It'll be fine,\" Derek tells him, though he isn't entirely certain that's true. The worst of the cuts is already open again, oozing a little, but it's a lot better than it was.<br \/><br \/>\"You're still bleeding!\" Stiles says, and for the first time there's a tinge of panic in his voice. \"Let me\u2014\"<br \/><br \/>\"<i>Stop<\/i>,\" Derek says, as forcefully as he can. It costs him to sound that authoritative, but he needs Stiles to listen.<br \/><br \/>\"Derek,\" Stiles says, plaintive and small. He shifts on his knees and flexes his hands, still trapped in Derek's grip.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm good, I'm good,\" Derek says, trying to sound as sure about that as possible. He pulls until Stiles gives in and settles on the floor in the crook of his arm. Stiles wraps one arm around Derek's chest and hides his face in Derek's shoulder. He's still shaking. \"You did great,\" Derek whispers against his temple. \"I'm a lot better.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Stiles says, and lets out a shuddering breath. They lie on the floor together, blood dripping down Derek's sides, but the bathroom already looks like a murder scene, and they're both covered in it, so there's no point in caring. <br \/><br \/>This is exactly what Derek didn't want, all the careful boundaries he's set for himself when it comes to Stiles wiped out in an instant. Five years of not looking at him for too long, not touching him too much, not letting anything he was feeling show on his face. And never, ever letting Stiles heal him, terrified of it, because the thought of Stiles putting his hands on him when he was weak and hurting was unbearable. He'd always feared that would be the thing that destroyed his illusion of control. And he was right.<br \/><br \/>But now that it's happened he can't seem to muster any regret, because the awful pain in his gut aside, he feels better than he has in a long time. He feels lighter somehow, buoyant, and incredibly fond of Stiles, filled with a gentle affection that's somehow easier to bear than the long, grinding years of lust and longing that have preceded it.<br \/><br \/>He twists his neck enough to nuzzle at the top of Stiles' head. The ozone smell is even stronger after so many rounds of healing, but by now it's impossible for Derek to connect it to anything other than how good it felt when Stiles touched him. He breathes him in and refuses to feel guilty about it; he's never been this close to Stiles for this long before, except that night years ago in the swimming pool, when everything stunk like chlorine. Stiles is probably well aware what Derek is doing, but Derek can't make himself care about that, either.<br \/><br \/>\"Sorry about the bleed-through,\" Stiles says, waving his hand back and forth over the two of them without lifting his head. <br \/><br \/>\"Is that what that was?\" Derek asks carefully. He knew something was different about it right from the start, and Stiles seems to be working up to telling him what it is. He can wait.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah.\" He sounds embarrassed. \"There's usually a little transfer, from me. Remember last year when Scott busted me for eating his Twinkie out of his lunch box on our third grade field trip?\" He pauses while Derek fails to stifle a painful laugh. \"But it's never been--I've never done that before. I couldn't control it, the first time I touched you. I'm sorry.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Don't be sorry,\" Derek says. He's not sorry at all. Even though he's lying here in a pool of his own blood, he feels weirdly content and happy. Stiles' emotions, he assumes, but he'll take them. His own aren't this enjoyable most of the time. <br \/><br \/>\"I got hit by a car once, when I was five,\" Stiles goes on. \"Ran out in the street in front of our house. My mom had great control--she was a way better healer than I am--but she was freaking out, and it all just flooded right into me when she touched me. That's how I found out there was no Santa Claus.\" His voice has laughter in it, but a little sadness, too. <br \/><br \/>Derek knows the loss of Mrs. Stilinski left Stiles, who was already showing signs of having his mother's gift, not just without a mother, but also without guidance, someone to teach him how to use his power. Before she died, she made Stiles' father swear to continue his training, and he'd made good on that promise. For years after her death Stiles spent several weeks every summer with a healer who lived an hour or two north of here. She'd taught him a lot, all the things his mother hadn't had a chance to before she was gone forever.<br \/><br \/>But she couldn't replace Stiles' mother entirely, of course. Derek knows first-hand that's impossible. It's one thing they have in common, losing their mothers way too soon. And for both of them it had meant there was one less person like themselves in the world. Derek squeezes Stiles a little tighter in silent sympathy, and lets himself run his thumb over the knob of his shoulder.<br \/><br \/>\"So now you know,\" Stiles says, sounding miserable. \"How I feel about you.\"<br \/><br \/>Derek can't even speak for a second, feeling like the world around him has been momentarily put on pause as everything slots into place. That's what it is, this new thing simmering inside him that's making him feel like there are options for his life other than spending it doing penance, or desperately trying to do the least amount of damage possible to the people around him. This sudden and inexplicable feeling of <i>value.<\/i> That's how Stiles feels <i>about him.<\/i><br \/><br \/>In the silence, Stiles tenses at his side and tries to sit up, but Derek gently holds him down with his hand spread wide between his shoulders. <br \/><br \/>This is a terrible time to do this, Derek definitely knows that much. They're covered in blood, and Derek's still very far from back to normal, but all of that seems distant and inconsequential, and he can't imagine doing anything else. He reaches over and slowly tips Stiles' face up from where he's refusing to look at him, and kisses him, fingers sliding along his jaw, thumb teasing at Stiles' lower lip before he touches it with the tip of his tongue. Stiles' mouth feels even hotter than his hands.<br \/><br \/>Stiles does not react the way Derek expects. He makes a noise like a wounded animal and jerks away. \"Don't!\" <br \/><br \/>\"But you just said\u2014I felt it,\" Derek says, confused. He's got an awful, crawling sensation in his gut that has nothing to do with the knife. \"Stiles, I--\"<br \/><br \/>\"You're not listening,\" Stiles says, shaking off the touch when Derek tries to rub his thumb over his cheekbone. \"You're being influenced by me. I can't\u2014we can't do this.\" His face is a heartbreaking kaleidoscope of sadness and vulnerability; he looks worse than he did when he thought Derek was dying. \"God, Derek, I'd give anything to have this be real, but it's not. It's the bleed-through. It's not real.\"<br \/><br \/>There was a time when Derek would have seen this as an out, a chance to undo what he just did, to pass it off as nothing more than a side effect, to go back to pretending he hasn't spent nearly every waking moment of the last several years thinking about Stiles and wishing things could be different. There was a time when he would have accepted it as fact that he doesn't deserve this, and that Stiles will only be worse off for being with him.<br \/><br \/>But that time is no more. In the few short minutes since Stiles touched him, Derek's gone from dogged survival mode to feeling like anything is possible, like all the shit that's happened to him in his life\u2014all the shit he's brought down on himself\u2014doesn't have to be what defines him anymore. It occurs to him that maybe Stiles didn't only heal the wounds on the outside.<br \/><br \/>Derek lets go of Stiles, and slowly pushes him away with the back of his forearm, ignoring the bleak look on Stiles' face when he does it. Derek's good at doing unpleasant things that nonetheless need to be done; Stiles hasn't changed that about him.<br \/><br \/>\"Help me upstairs,\" Derek says, rolling awkwardly to his knees. \"I want to clean up.\" Stiles gapes at him for a second, understandably surprised by what appears to be Derek's decision to simply act like nothing happened. Then he stands up, gamely hooks his arm under Derek's and helps him lurch to his feet. A sharp stab of pain in Derek's middle makes him grimace when he slowly straightens up, but he only sways a little instead of falling back down. <br \/><br \/>Stiles fusses at him the whole arduous climb up the stairs while Derek sweats bullets and tries not to pass out. He gets the feeling that Stiles is genuinely worried about him, but also that this is something else to focus on and bitch about other than what just happened between them, so he lets him roll and doesn\u2019t even protest when Stiles calls him a pig-headed asshole and threatens to leave him on the landing to bleed to death.<br \/><br \/>Derek's bedroom is unfortunately situated at the end of the hall, so they stop to rest several times, Derek leaning wetly against the wall he painted only a few months ago. Stiles' shirt is practically soaked with blood; Derek can only imagine how saturated his own clothes are.<br \/><br \/>\"That's an improvement,\" Stiles says, glancing back at the bloody splotches they're leaving behind. He'd made a face at the paint color the first time he'd seen it, which had seemed a little unfair, because he was the one who had kept pointedly mentioning the bare drywall.<br \/><br \/>\"You can repaint it any color you want,\" Derek manages to say almost normally; the pain's finally fading to a dull throb. \"Except that putrid green.\"<br \/><br \/>\"It's called 'Quaking Aspen,' you barbarian,\" Stiles says, sounding more like himself than he has since he got here. \"Somewhere, Martha Stewart just had to sit down and breathe into a paper bag.\"<br \/><br \/>Derek's saved from having to formulate a comeback by their welcome arrival at his bedroom. On their way in, Stiles leans over and flicks on the lamp on the table next to the bed; Derek can see more than well enough without it, but Stiles can't. There's a bathroom attached to the bedroom, one much bigger and currently less gory than the one downstairs, and once they get in it, Stiles props Derek up against the sink and walks out, closing the door firmly behind him.<br \/><br \/>It's a mistake to look in the mirror. Derek's white as a sheet except for where he's covered in blood, and his clothes are a disaster, despite the fact that he feels clean, reborn, like all the bad stuff has been burned out of him and replaced with something better. He knows this sudden absence of belief that he ruins everything he touches is probably Stiles--how Stiles sees Derek, rather than how Derek sees himself--but the break from the self-hatred is kind of nice. He feels so different he somehow expected to see it reflected back at him, and it's a disappointment to find he looks the same as always, except maybe a little closer to being a corpse than usual.<br \/><br \/>He manages to strip down and get in the shower on his own, wincing and hissing at the pull in his abdomen, watching to see if he's going to split right open again. Once he's closed up in the shower alone and away from Stiles, away from his warm hands and the delicious smell of him, he can examine everything going on in his head, try to figure out what's from him and what's from Stiles. There's a lot of bleed-through, maybe more than he thought at first. He's got so much of Stiles thrumming through him he'll probably be listening to Mumford & Sons for the next week.<br \/><br \/>But it's not that hard to sort it all out, in the end. When Derek was little, his mother taught him how to follow a scent trail, how to pick up an invisible strand and pull on it, follow it to the source. When he mastered that, she showed him how to focus on more than one at a time, how to walk into a room full of people and separate them all until he could both pick out each one individually and keep track of several at the same time. <br \/><br \/>This is a lot like that, and since his brain already knows the basic principle, it's relatively easy. He unravels the knotted up mess of emotions in his head, one delicate thread at a time, determinedly tracing the origin of each one, and what he finds doesn't surprise him.<br \/><br \/>Derek sits naked on the floor of the shower and watches his blood run down the drain, a hypnotizing stream of water painted with deep red swirls like the ones on Stiles' skin.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>Stiles is digging through Derek's dresser drawers when Derek comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. His wounds finally closed up for good while he was showering, so he's not bleeding anymore, but he still has several angry raised marks across his belly, and he's not quite steady on his feet yet.<br \/><br \/>Stiles is shirtless, his unmarked skin luminous in the dim light. Derek's never seen Stiles without his shirt on, probably the only one in the group, including Erica, he hasn't seen at least partly naked, because there's a lot of unintentional nudity in the werewolf world, and there's no sense in being uptight about it. Up until now he had no idea how much of Stiles the tattoos covered. The runes that stain his hands and arms flow up and over his shoulders and down his back, fanning out across his shoulder blades before gradually narrowing downward to delicate curlicues at the base of his spine, disappearing underneath his belt. <br \/><br \/>As Derek watches, Stiles closes Derek's sock drawer and then opens the one below it and makes a triumphant sound when he sees it's full of shirts. When he turns toward Derek with a T-shirt in his hand, Derek sees the runes also cover his chest, angling toward his breastbone before winding together in a jagged helix that runs down the middle of his abdomen. Both of his nipples are pierced. Derek didn't know that, either.<br \/><br \/>Stiles thrusts his arms through the sleeves of Derek's T-shirt and pulls it down over his head, but Derek is there before he can tug it down the rest of the way. Momentarily blinded, Stiles jumps when Derek grabs the fabric with both hands, then goes still as Derek slowly pulls it back up over his head. Stiles' face, when revealed, is wary. <br \/><br \/>\"I'll give it back,\" Stiles says, as if that's the reason Derek doesn't want him to put it on.<br \/><br \/>\"I know,\" Derek says, amused. Stiles stands there and lets Derek slip the shirt off his arms, like a little kid, and then watches silently as Derek tosses it on the floor and steps closer, resting his hands lightly on Stiles' skinny hips.<br \/><br \/>Stiles lowers his arms and closes his eyes, standing stiffly in Derek's touch, arms akimbo, very consciously not touching Derek. He swallows and his face crumples like he's in pain as he shakes his head.<br \/><br \/>\"Please don't,\" he whispers. \"We talked about this. I wouldn't be able to\u2014I couldn't stand it.\" His eyes are still closed, as if he can't bear to even look at Derek.<br \/><br \/>\"Listen to me,\" Derek says, ignoring the way Stiles flinches when Derek carefully takes his face in his hands. \"I know you think I'm just feeling what you're feeling, but that's not true.\" Stiles opens his eyes and then his mouth, but Derek shakes his head and\u2014miraculously--Stiles doesn't say anything. His eyes look huge in his pale face.<br \/><br \/>\"If that were the case I'd think I'm in love with myself, right?\" Derek asks. Stiles visibly winces at the word \"love.\" Derek takes a breath and doubles down. \"Instead of with you.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You aren't,\" Stiles says stubbornly, but he wants to believe it. Derek can see it on his face. \"Derek, think about it. Did you feel this way before today?\"<br \/><br \/>Derek doesn't rush to answer. This is likely the single most important thing he's ever going to say, and if Stiles doesn't believe him, all will be lost. But in the end it's easy. Everything is so easy now. <br \/><br \/>He leans his forehead against Stiles' and says, \"I've <i>always<\/i> felt this way.\"<br \/><br \/>Stiles pulls back just enough to look Derek in the eye as his hands close tightly over Derek's wrists, like he's hanging on for his life. \"Are you sure?\" His cheeks are suddenly tinted pink, his eyes bright and fierce. \"Derek, are you <i>sure?<\/i> Because if you aren't sure--\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm sure,\" Derek says, and he can't help the way he smiles, and then smiles even bigger when Stiles smiles back. He knows the talking is over. Stiles believes him. \"I'm really, really sure.\" He's also sure he's about to fall down, maybe from blood loss, maybe from flat-out relief.<br \/><br \/>Stiles' pants are a mess, big bloody patches at both knees, streaks where he wiped his hands on them, and Derek doesn't care. He closes his hand around Stiles' wrist and pulls him toward the bed, where he carefully lowers himself onto his back and urges Stiles down to settle over his hips.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm fine,\" Derek says insistently, when Stiles starts to protest, looking anxiously at Derek's stomach. It's not entirely true; he opted for the bed because he wasn't sure he could touch Stiles and stay upright at the same time, but he's fine enough for this.<br \/><br \/>He intended to kiss him, because this is definitely the kind of thing you seal with a kiss, and Derek's been waiting for years to do it, but he looks up at Stiles and gets distracted for a minute. Stiles isn't self-conscious at all, letting Derek look his fill, and smooth his hands over the marks on his skin like he's wanted to do for so long, lightly nudging one of the nipple rings with his thumb, which makes Stiles' breath catch.<br \/><br \/>His hands drift down, following the helix, making the muscles in Stiles' stomach jump in a gratifying way. Stiles watches Derek's fingers move across his skin, mouth slightly open, eyes hooded, like just seeing Derek's hands on him is the best drug. <br \/><br \/>Derek slowly works his belt open, and then the button on his pants, and he sees there's something else there, another mark, coiled low on his belly, the edge of it peeking out from the waistband of his pants. When his fingers catch the top of Stiles' underwear Stiles suddenly snaps out of his daze and realizes what Derek's doing. He stiffens and grabs Derek's forearms. \"Derek, wait\u2014\"<br \/><br \/>But it's too late. Derek's already pulled his underwear down enough to see. There, on the tight skin below his bellybutton, is indeed another tattoo, this one harsh and black against Stiles' tender skin, and it's not a rune. It's a triskelion.<br \/><br \/>They both go still. So still Derek can hear Stiles' heart, beating like a scared bunny.<br \/><br \/>\"What is this?\" Derek croaks out, mouth dry. \"Why do you\u2014\"<br \/><br \/>\"She did it, when she did the others,\" Stiles says, sounding almost apologetic. He means Brighid, the woman who took him under her wing after his mother died, who trained him to use his gift, who etched the runes into his skin when he was not quite sixteen years old. When she died, Stiles was gone for two weeks, and when he came back, quiet and peaked but as resilient as ever, there were new tattoos, delicate rings around all ten fingers, words in a language Derek didn't know.<br \/><br \/>Stiles has had the other runes as long as Derek has known him. Derek's heard references to the process over the years, that it was brutal, and Scott was worried Stiles would die. Stiles was just a kid then, just starting high school. Before Derek had come back to Beacon Hills. Stiles has had a triskelion on his body the entire time they've known each other, and Derek had no idea.<br \/><br \/>It dawns on him this is why he's never seen Stiles without his clothes on before.<br \/><br \/>\"Why didn't you tell me?\" Stiles has known Derek has the same tattoo on his back since that night at Deaton's, when they'd only known each other for a few weeks. That was <i>years<\/i> ago. \"Why didn't you say something?\"<br \/><br \/>Stiles lets out a harsh breath. \"How was I supposed to? I thought\u2014I thought you would just know. She made it sound like you'd know.\" His gaze drifts away, and he swallows hard before continuing. \"Like I knew. When I saw you.\"<br \/><br \/>This is a whole other thing to absorb, in a night that's already been full of them. It'd been one thing to feel drawn to Stiles, to <i>want<\/i> him, to then find out Stiles wanted him back, but this is something else entirely. Derek lightly presses his thumbs into Stiles' belly on either side of the tattoo, dimpling the skin. \"She told you this was...me? When she put his on you?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Not specifically. \" Stiles chews on his lip and doesn't elaborate.<br \/><br \/>\"What did she say, Stiles?\" Derek asks him. His fingers tighten on the elastic of Stiles' underwear. He can't seem to let go.<br \/><br \/>\"She said my fate was tied to it, and I\u2026\" <br \/><br \/>\"Tell me,\" Derek urges softly, when Stiles falters again.<br \/><br \/>Stiles squares his shoulders and closes his eyes, and it's clear he's reciting from memory when he says, voice not quite steady, \"This is for the one you are destined to find. He is your fate. You are his salvation. The tooth and the claw, the light and the hope. The protector and the healer.\"<br \/><br \/><i>The protector.<\/i> <br \/><br \/>Derek remembers, for what is probably the hundredth time, Stiles telling Isaac about the runes in his ears, and the way his eyes had found Derek as if by instinct when he said the word \"protection.\" But unlike all those other times, now he actually understands why Stiles had looked at him, and it wasn't because he felt threatened by Derek. <br \/><br \/>But it's hard to feel like you can be anyone's protector when your bad judgement got most of your family burned alive. Derek's not sure he's been a protector at all for Stiles all these years. It's felt more like he was constantly putting him in the path of danger. It can't be him. It can't be. <br \/><br \/>And yet. <br \/><br \/>Derek knows for sure, knows for a fact, that there is no other werewolf\u2014<i>the tooth and the claw<\/i>\u2014walking the Earth right now bearing this mark. He's the only one. It has to be him.<br \/><br \/>He wants it to be him.<br \/><br \/>Stiles has grown uneasy in the silence, watching him. \"Derek\u2014\"<br \/><br \/>\"Why didn't you <i>say anything<\/i>?\" Derek asks again, because that's the part he can't get past. \"You knew all this time.\" All these years. Stiles has been carrying this on his skin, knowing what it meant, and Derek's been killing himself trying to <i>stay away.<\/i><br \/><br \/>Stiles shrugs a shoulder, but it's not as casual a gesture as he probably wants it to be. He's too tense, and he looks too upset. \"She told me I'd be tested, and that I had to be patient.  And then I found you, but you would never--you would never let me put my hands on you.\" He says it like it hurt him, has been hurting him all this time, that Derek denied him that, and it probably has. Stiles is a healer for a reason; it's as necessary to him as breathing. \"I thought you just\u2014didn't want me.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I wanted you,\" Derek says, even though Stiles already knows this. \"I've wanted you for a long time.\"<br \/><br \/>He's wanted Stiles for a lot of endless, lonely years, while he's watched all their friends find partners, standing silently by and waiting for Stiles to do the same, fall in love with someone who wasn't him, just to complete his misery. But Stiles didn't. Stiles did nothing, rebuffing every advance, and there were plenty that Derek knew about and probably many more he didn't. Derek had done the same, but he hadn't realized that it meant something, the two of them keeping themselves apart, like they were waiting for something.<br \/><br \/>Derek missed the most obvious part, where, after everyone else was already paired off, it had just been him and Stiles thrown together by what he thought was default. All those times Stiles went out of his way to include Derek when everyone got together for fun, or made sure he had somewhere to go for the holidays, even if Derek didn't always take him up on it. The endless text messages, and the way he'd tease him out of bad moods, the way he kept urging Derek to fix up the house, to start living like a real person instead of a haunted wretch. That wasn't just friend stuff. That was Stiles reaching out, nudging at him, trying to get him to realize, to show any sign he wanted something more from his life. Maybe wanted a life that included Stiles.<br \/><br \/>Stiles is still holding onto Derek's arms, but he doesn't stop him when Derek pushes his underwear down a little more, until he can see the whole tattoo. It's exactly like Derek's, only smaller, and now that he's over his shock, it gives him a pleasantly possessive feeling to see it there.<br \/><br \/>Derek touches it, just barely, with the pad of his thumb, and watches the goosebumps fan across Stiles' stomach as he traces the top spiral, following the curve around and down until he reaches the very center where the three spirals converge, and Stiles tips his head back and makes a sound that digs right into the most primal part of Derek's brain. It's a sex sound, a shaky gasp. Stiles' fingers clamp down hard on Derek's arms, and the edges of the triskelion begin to light up. <br \/><br \/>It's not the warm golden healing light from before. The inky black coils flare a fiery red that makes Derek splay his whole hand flat over the mark, the webbing between his fingers glowing translucent as the light gets brighter and brighter, and Derek feels an answering heat between his shoulder blades, and realizes he's raging hard. He's so hard and everything feels so good, so <i>red<\/i>, and his hips try to come up off the bed, and he's going to come, he thinks, surprised. He's going to come just from putting <i>one hand<\/i> on Stiles.<br \/><br \/>Stiles is hard, too. Derek can feel him bumping up against the underside of his wrist, and the triskelion is burning hot and bright against Derek's palm now. The familiar hum from before purrs through him, but there's also something else there this time, pulling at him instead of rushing into him. Derek feels something inside him answering--something that's been hiding, cold and scared, all this time, has been roused and is slowly uncurling, reaching for the light in Stiles, sighing in relief. The waiting is over.<br \/><br \/>Derek groans, \"I'm going to--\" just as Stiles says, \"Oh my God, <i>Derek<\/i>,\" and his hips jerk under Derek's touch, fingernails cutting into Derek's skin, and he comes, too, with a little choked cry.<br \/><br \/>Stiles sways over Derek as they catch their breath; he looks as stunned by what just happened as Derek feels. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh my God,\" Stiles says again, blinking down at where Derek's hand is still touching him. The light's subsided to a gentle shimmer, but Derek can still feel whatever the other thing is, a current flowing between them. \"That's never\u2014\"<br \/><br \/>Derek surges up, ignoring the way the flesh of his stomach, still trying to knit itself together somewhere deep inside, screams at him.<br \/><br \/>\"You were marked for me,\" he says fiercely against Stiles' throat, the words making heat rise in his back, in his belly, the place under his ribs where his heart lives. Stiles makes a harsh, desperate sound as his hands twist in Derek's hair. He yanks Derek's head to the side, and Derek lets him. <br \/><br \/>\"We were marked <i>for each other<\/i>,\" Stiles says, low in his ear, and that's even better. Yes, that's even better.<br \/><br \/>Stiles drags his mouth down to latch onto Derek's, and they really kiss this time, nothing like the short, one-sided thing that happened downstairs. It's a deep, hard kiss, with Stiles' tongue pushing against Derek's, making Derek open up and let him in, like he's trying to crawl right inside him.<br \/><br \/>He curls his fingers behind Derek's ears and makes urgent little noises into Derek's mouth, grinding down onto him until Derek rolls Stiles underneath him and rears up onto his knees and flings the towel away. Stiles isn't much help getting his own clothes off, too busy looking at Derek and trying to touch him, which is flattering but there'll be time for that later, after they get his damn clothes off. Derek tells him so as he yanks off Stiles' shoes and gracelessly relieves him of his disgusting pants, and suddenly Stiles is naked and grinning on Derek's bed, reaching for him, pulling him down next to him and kissing him again. <br \/><br \/>Stiles is gorgeous, solid muscle and strong bone bound tight by smooth skin. He and Derek are nearly the same height, but Stiles is narrower, his limbs long and angular next to Derek's more bulky frame, the muscles in his chest and stomach flat and hard. Derek runs his hands up Stiles' arms and over his shoulders, leaving tiny trails of sparks behind. The runes light up one by one as he touches them, pulsing with golden energy, until Stiles is glowing like an ember. <br \/><br \/>Derek leans down and closes his teeth on one of the nipple rings and gives it a gentle tug, making Stiles hiss with pleasure and bow up off the bed, clutching at Derek's head. Then it feels like he's everywhere at once as he rubs against Derek, practically begging to be touched, putting his hot mouth on Derek's shoulder and neck, dragging his blunt nails down Derek's back.<br \/><br \/>\"God, come here,\" Stiles says hoarsely. His hand slips down to circle around Derek's cock, already hard again, and slick from coming all over himself. \"I need to touch you,\" he pants, and runs a snug circle of thumb and finger up and down Derek's cock, groaning like he's the one being stroked. <br \/><br \/>Stiles is hard again, too, so Derek eases on top of him, sucking in a breath when their dicks rub against each other, sliding easily where they're both still wet and messy. They start working against each other, a rhythm that starts fast and only gets faster, Derek groaning as Stiles tightens his thighs around his hips and fucks into Derek's mouth with his tongue. This isn't going to be as short as the first time, but it won't be much longer, either.   <br \/><br \/>The kiss gets sloppy and uneven, the barbell in Stiles' tongue clicking against Derek's teeth, until they break apart and pant against each other's faces instead. Stiles is noisy, then, little pitched cries and half-sentences, and finally just Derek's name, over and over. Derek feels a prickle of heat between his shoulder blades and when he looks down at where their bodies meet, Stiles' triskelion is glowing again, the same intense red as before. Derek bears down on him, driving his hips into him, watching as the other runes begin to burn the same color, like fire racing across Stiles' skin. Derek feels his eyes flare in response, and when he looks up, Stiles' eyes are shining a deep, answering red. <br \/><br \/>Derek barely manages to hang on, but he fights for it, gritting his teeth. Stiles shudders, going silent at last, and everything is cleansing light and welcoming heat and finally, finally belonging to someone, and Derek chokes out Stiles' name and comes in a dizzying rush.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>It's a long time before either of them wants to move, but finally Stiles pleads dire thirst and gets up to grab some water. Derek rolls over into the warm spot Stiles leaves behind, onto his stomach, which doesn't really bother him at all right now, so he can smell him and think about how he'll never have to be without him again.<br \/><br \/>Stiles comes back with a huge plastic cup of water, and makes Derek lift his head and drink some before he insinuates himself under Derek's arm, humming happily. Derek rubs the back of Stiles' neck when he burrows in a little closer, pressing small kisses to Derek's shoulder as his fingers play idly with the shell of Derek's ear. As amazing as the sex was, Derek can already tell this quiet, easy affection is going to be just as addictive. He's never really had this before.<br \/><br \/>Stiles is still glowing a little, a random flicker here and there, jumping from his hand to his chest, then his shoulder to his neck. Until tonight, Derek's never seen his runes alight when he wasn't actively healing someone. He likes it, though. It makes Stiles even more beautiful.<br \/><br \/>\"Yours is lit up, too,\" Stiles says, his voice soft and pleased, when he notices Derek watching. He kisses Derek's shoulder again, and then slides his hand down to trace along the top spiral on Derek's back, circling slowly toward the center, gliding over the bumps of his spine, and it feels like he's stirring Derek's heart with his fingers. \"Has it done that before?\"<br \/><br \/>\"No. Never,\" Derek says. Up until today it was just an ordinary tattoo, ink on his skin. Now it's something more, with Stiles here. All this time, Stiles was trying to drag Derek out into the light, and Derek had been half-heartedly going along with it, but there was a reason it wasn't working very well: what he needed was for Stiles to bring the light to him.<br \/><br \/><i>The light and the hope.<\/i> <br \/><br \/>That's what he's been puzzling over since Stiles touched him the first time. That's the strange buoyant feeling in his chest he didn't recognize, because it's been so long since he felt it: hope.<br \/><br \/><b>The End<\/b><br \/><br \/><b>Notes:<\/b><br \/><br \/><ul><li>Beltane is an ancient Gaelic festival held on the first day of May that includes, among other things, purification by fire.<\/li><br \/><br \/><li>This story was initially inspired by <a href=\"http:\/\/nininghasfeelings.tumblr.com\/post\/31230151314\" target=\"_blank\">this beautiful piece of art<\/a> by ni\u00f1a, which made me start thinking things I jotted down for later. Then steammmpunk posted <a href=\"http:\/\/steammmpunk.tumblr.com\/post\/35116421854\/spaggel-answered-your-post-anyone-feel-like-giving\" target=\"_blank\">another piece of gorgeous art in the same vein<\/a> and I went OKAY FINE I'LL WRITE THIS NOW.<br \/><br \/>And then while I was actually writing the story I re-watched <a href=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=RoPm7SZwXOI&amp;feature=plcp\" target=\"_blank\">this wonderful Derek\/Stiles vid<\/a> by xosimplyvidsox and realized that song was perfect for how I was imagining Derek's thought process, and THEN shortly after that Sapphiamur posted <a href=\"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=7VPjjqP9eOY&amp;feature=plcp\" target=\"_blank\">this amazing vid<\/a> (also inspired by ni\u00f1a's art), which only made me want to finish this story even more.<br \/><br \/>I'm lucky I survived all this, to be honest. My Derek\/Stiles feelings were OFF THE CHARTS. So this is the part where I officially love on all of these people for sharing their gorgeous fanworks with the rest of us. Thank you. &lt;3 &lt;3<\/li> <\/ul><br \/><br \/><center>Podfic available <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/676196\" target=\"_blank\">here<\/a> by <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"erica_schall\" lj:user=\"erica_schall\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/erica-schall.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/erica-schall.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>erica_schall<\/b><\/a><\/span>.<br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/49ad741e2ef1567f4d41678911e0794fd36ff89be90c2d648a037158d12322d6\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkxHGF4YnBY-70kLjX7MO-aX6EgetB9maA8:S_RfCDZ-JwVsl8h8HCYyYA\" fetchpriority=\"high\"><br \/><br \/>[Image Description: Cover for Beltane podfic.]<br \/><br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/dreaminginpencil.tumblr.com\/post\/40469252165\/healer-stiles-inspired-by-beltane-written-by\" target=\"_blank\">dreamingingpencil<\/a> drew a fantastic portrait of Stiles with his tattoos!<br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/5a5b66f289b50a04a292e713efa24d645f3e8ce8f966ade83d44486ea8197692\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkxHGF4YnBY-7FIGh3Lca7nRo1BAo1N8:NJvJCsMm_8P2xlWP-ZnRSw\" loading=\"lazy\"><br \/><br \/>[Image Description: Stiles covered in tattoos.]<br \/><br \/><br \/>and <a href=\"http:\/\/blandade.tumblr.com\/post\/40775096689\/drawn-based-on\" target=\"_blank\">blandade<\/a> drew this wonderful piece showing Stiles healing Derek:<br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/e7053c4f208aa7882c93f68bdf6c75ab0d5381769402d40b478d45dc9b223f01\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkxHGF4YnBY-7FIKmXLEa7nRo1BAo1N8:NBZlhMxwZtw3JBjVPfaFYA\" loading=\"lazy\"><br \/><br \/>[Image Description: Stiles healing Derek.]<\/center><br \/><br \/><br \/><a name='cutid1-end'><\/a><br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/684793.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/4f6a2081bc9cffa610cba2b6a2e728c7a6a17eda1999804b7f953cdd6e2f7bf5\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW3ToJ7VBv:KGT5wn0mKUXzKGR047DBfw\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:839949","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/839949.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=839949"}}],"title":"FIC: Rule Number Nine (Avengers) Darcy Lewis\/Steve Rogers (Explicit) 1\/3","published":"2012-11-09T19:08:44Z","updated":"2012-11-10T13:15:04Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"fanfiction: darcy lewis\/steve rogers"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"avengers!"}}],"content":"<b>Title:<\/b> Rule Number Nine<br \/><b>Summary:<\/b> \"Darcy was right, Steve admits to himself later that day. He never has a date for anything.\" <br \/><b>Fandom:<\/b> Avengers Movieverse<br \/><b>Relationships:<\/b> Steve Rogers\/Darcy Lewis<br \/><b>Rating:<\/b> Explicit<br \/><b>Words:<\/b> ~24,000 <br \/><b>Spoilers:<\/b> For solo movies only, as this was mostly written pre-Avengers.<br \/><b>Warnings:<\/b> None that I can think of! <br \/><b>Availability:<\/b> <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/839949.html\" target=\"_blank\">LiveJournal<\/a> || <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/684350.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> || <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/558511\" target=\"_blank\">AO3<\/a>  <br \/><b>Thanks:<\/b> To <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"musesfool\" lj:user=\"musesfool\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/musesfool.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/musesfool.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>musesfool<\/b><\/a><a class=\"i-ljuser-badge i-ljuser-badge--pro\" data-badge-type=\"pro\" data-placement=\"bottom\" data-pro-badge data-pro-badge-type=\"1\" data-is-raw hidden href=\"#\"><span class=\"i-ljuser-badge__icon\"><svg class=\"svgicon\" width=\"25\" height=\"16\" xmlns=\"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/2000\/svg\" viewBox=\"0 0 33 24\"><path fill-rule=\"evenodd\" d=\"M19.326 11.95c0 2.01 1.47 3.45 3.48 3.45 2.02 0 3.49-1.44 3.49-3.45 0-2.01-1.47-3.45-3.49-3.45-2.01 0-3.48 1.44-3.48 3.45Zm5.51 0c0 1.24-.8 2.19-2.03 2.19-1.23 0-2.02-.95-2.02-2.19 0-1.25.79-2.19 2.02-2.19s2.03.94 2.03 2.19ZM7.92 15.28H6.5V8.61h3.12c1.45 0 2.24.98 2.24 2.15 0 1.16-.8 2.15-2.24 2.15h-1.7v2.37Zm1.51-3.62c.56 0 .98-.35.98-.9 0-.56-.42-.9-.98-.9H7.92v1.8h1.51ZM18.3802 15.28h-1.63l-1.31-2.37h-1.04v2.37h-1.42V8.61h3.12c1.39 0 2.24.91 2.24 2.15 0 1.18-.74 1.81-1.46 1.98l1.5 2.54Zm-2.49-3.62c.57 0 1-.34 1-.9s-.43-.9-1-.9h-1.49v1.8h1.49Z\" clip-rule=\"evenodd\"\/><path fill-rule=\"evenodd\" d=\"M2 8c0-2.20914 1.79086-4 4-4h20.5c2.2091 0 4 1.79086 4 4v7.9c0 2.2091-1.7909 4-4 4H6c-2.20914 0-4-1.7909-4-4V8Zm4-2.5h20.5C27.8807 5.5 29 6.61929 29 8v7.9c0 1.3807-1.1193 2.5-2.5 2.5H6c-1.38071 0-2.5-1.1193-2.5-2.5V8c0-1.38071 1.11929-2.5 2.5-2.5Z\" clip-rule=\"evenodd\"\/><\/svg><\/span><\/a><\/span> and <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"artemis2050\" lj:user=\"artemis2050\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/artemis2050.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/artemis2050.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>artemis2050<\/b><\/a><a class=\"i-ljuser-badge i-ljuser-badge--pro\" data-badge-type=\"pro\" data-placement=\"bottom\" data-pro-badge data-pro-badge-type=\"1\" data-is-raw hidden href=\"#\"><span class=\"i-ljuser-badge__icon\"><svg class=\"svgicon\" width=\"25\" height=\"16\" xmlns=\"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/2000\/svg\" viewBox=\"0 0 33 24\"><path fill-rule=\"evenodd\" d=\"M19.326 11.95c0 2.01 1.47 3.45 3.48 3.45 2.02 0 3.49-1.44 3.49-3.45 0-2.01-1.47-3.45-3.49-3.45-2.01 0-3.48 1.44-3.48 3.45Zm5.51 0c0 1.24-.8 2.19-2.03 2.19-1.23 0-2.02-.95-2.02-2.19 0-1.25.79-2.19 2.02-2.19s2.03.94 2.03 2.19ZM7.92 15.28H6.5V8.61h3.12c1.45 0 2.24.98 2.24 2.15 0 1.16-.8 2.15-2.24 2.15h-1.7v2.37Zm1.51-3.62c.56 0 .98-.35.98-.9 0-.56-.42-.9-.98-.9H7.92v1.8h1.51ZM18.3802 15.28h-1.63l-1.31-2.37h-1.04v2.37h-1.42V8.61h3.12c1.39 0 2.24.91 2.24 2.15 0 1.18-.74 1.81-1.46 1.98l1.5 2.54Zm-2.49-3.62c.57 0 1-.34 1-.9s-.43-.9-1-.9h-1.49v1.8h1.49Z\" clip-rule=\"evenodd\"\/><path fill-rule=\"evenodd\" d=\"M2 8c0-2.20914 1.79086-4 4-4h20.5c2.2091 0 4 1.79086 4 4v7.9c0 2.2091-1.7909 4-4 4H6c-2.20914 0-4-1.7909-4-4V8Zm4-2.5h20.5C27.8807 5.5 29 6.61929 29 8v7.9c0 1.3807-1.1193 2.5-2.5 2.5H6c-1.38071 0-2.5-1.1193-2.5-2.5V8c0-1.38071 1.11929-2.5 2.5-2.5Z\" clip-rule=\"evenodd\"\/><\/svg><\/span><\/a><\/span> for betas and encouragement. &lt;3 &lt;3<br \/><b>Notes:<\/b> This is for my fangirl BFF <span  class=\"ljuser  i-ljuser  i-ljuser-type-P     \"  data-ljuser=\"musesfool\" lj:user=\"musesfool\" ><a href=\"https:\/\/musesfool.livejournal.com\/profile\/\"  target=\"_self\"  class=\"i-ljuser-profile\" ><img  class=\"i-ljuser-userhead\"  src=\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.net\/img\/userinfo_v8.png?v=17080&v=915\" \/><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/musesfool.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"i-ljuser-username\"   target=\"_self\"   ><b>musesfool<\/b><\/a><a class=\"i-ljuser-badge i-ljuser-badge--pro\" data-badge-type=\"pro\" data-placement=\"bottom\" data-pro-badge data-pro-badge-type=\"1\" data-is-raw hidden href=\"#\"><span class=\"i-ljuser-badge__icon\"><svg class=\"svgicon\" width=\"25\" height=\"16\" xmlns=\"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/2000\/svg\" viewBox=\"0 0 33 24\"><path fill-rule=\"evenodd\" d=\"M19.326 11.95c0 2.01 1.47 3.45 3.48 3.45 2.02 0 3.49-1.44 3.49-3.45 0-2.01-1.47-3.45-3.49-3.45-2.01 0-3.48 1.44-3.48 3.45Zm5.51 0c0 1.24-.8 2.19-2.03 2.19-1.23 0-2.02-.95-2.02-2.19 0-1.25.79-2.19 2.02-2.19s2.03.94 2.03 2.19ZM7.92 15.28H6.5V8.61h3.12c1.45 0 2.24.98 2.24 2.15 0 1.16-.8 2.15-2.24 2.15h-1.7v2.37Zm1.51-3.62c.56 0 .98-.35.98-.9 0-.56-.42-.9-.98-.9H7.92v1.8h1.51ZM18.3802 15.28h-1.63l-1.31-2.37h-1.04v2.37h-1.42V8.61h3.12c1.39 0 2.24.91 2.24 2.15 0 1.18-.74 1.81-1.46 1.98l1.5 2.54Zm-2.49-3.62c.57 0 1-.34 1-.9s-.43-.9-1-.9h-1.49v1.8h1.49Z\" clip-rule=\"evenodd\"\/><path fill-rule=\"evenodd\" d=\"M2 8c0-2.20914 1.79086-4 4-4h20.5c2.2091 0 4 1.79086 4 4v7.9c0 2.2091-1.7909 4-4 4H6c-2.20914 0-4-1.7909-4-4V8Zm4-2.5h20.5C27.8807 5.5 29 6.61929 29 8v7.9c0 1.3807-1.1193 2.5-2.5 2.5H6c-1.38071 0-2.5-1.1193-2.5-2.5V8c0-1.38071 1.11929-2.5 2.5-2.5Z\" clip-rule=\"evenodd\"\/><\/svg><\/span><\/a><\/span>, because she wanted to read stories about ladies de-virginizing Steve, and I am accommodating like that. I wrote 99% of this story before the release of the Avengers movie, so it does not match up with canon in some respects.<br \/><b>Transformative Works Policy:<\/b> <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/users\/DevilDoll\/profile\" target=\"_blank\">Can be found here.<\/a><br \/><b>Posted:<\/b> November 9th, 2012<br \/><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/839949.html\" target=\"_blank\">Part One<\/a>  ||   <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/839845.html\" target=\"_blank\">Part Two<\/a>  ||   <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/839536.html\" target=\"_blank\">Part Three<\/a> <br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><b>Rule Number Nine<\/b><br \/><br \/>Steve notices Jane's friend Darcy right away, because he's always had a weakness for brunettes, and Darcy is smart and confident and sassy, which are all things that appeal to him. From the beginning she treats him-and all the other Avengers-like they're no big deal, but Steve supposes if the first Avenger she met was Thor, the rest of them really aren't any big deal at all. He likes her immediately, in the way he's always been drawn to pretty girls, feeling almost shy about it, and careful not to stare so she doesn't misinterpret his interest.<br \/><br \/>They see each other now and then, usually when there's some kind of group social thing, but eventually the Avengers all move into Tony's big fancy house, and Darcy is there sometimes. She even spends the night or the weekend once in a while, in the red bedroom at the back of the house, the one Tony calls the \"small bedroom\" and Darcy swears is bigger than her entire apartment. Steve comes across her in the kitchen making mugs of tea with Jane, in the den watching movies with Bruce and Natasha, in the garden jumping on the trampoline with Clint; she's around enough that it's not a surprise to see her, and they talk sometimes about nothing much in particular. She's part of life at Avengers Mansion, which is never going to be dull, Steve knows that for certain.<br \/><br \/>Then Tony's latest assistant quits. As long as Steve has known Tony, that job has been filled by a rotating cast of flustered people, both men and women, none of whom Steve ever sees more than twice. Which doesn't surprise Steve, exactly, knowing Tony. After the last one leaves in a fiery huff, Pepper and Jane get together and convince Tony to give Darcy, who is newly graduated from college and unemployed, the job. <br \/><br \/>Steve is surprised by this. He thought they liked Darcy. <br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>Darcy is actually great at being Tony's assistant, as far as Steve can tell. He isn't completely sure what the job entails, though he does know that she spends some of her time updating Tony's official Facebook and Twitter accounts. Surprisingly, she lasts longer than a week, and she doesn't look like she wants to murder Tony every time Steve sees her, which may be a low standard for success, but that's Tony Stark for you. She's at the house a lot more, usually ambling along behind Tony or sitting at the huge wooden desk in Howard's old office, with pens sticking out of her hair where it's haphazardly pinned on top of her head, her cute little glasses sliding down her nose. <br \/><br \/>Tony talks really fast and says a lot of things that don't make any sense at all to Steve, but Darcy must be able to translate his rambles into instructions, because Tony seems happy with her. After a few weeks, Steve notices there's been a visible shift of power, and more often it's actually Darcy telling Tony what to do, rather than the reverse. <br \/><br \/>One Monday morning during Bruce's weekly pancake breakfast, Tony tries to wiggle out of giving a presentation that's been booked for months. Darcy doesn't look up from her pancakes-she barely even appears to be listening to Tony's transparent excuses, actually-and says, \"Happy will be waiting with the car at 6pm tonight, Pepper will have you in the navy pinstripe suit, and the only choice you get to make is if you willingly get in the car or I send Thor to put you in it. You have three seconds to give me your answer.\" <br \/><br \/>Tony turns to Pepper, who is smearing raspberry jam on a pancake that nearly covers her entire plate, and says, \"You were right. She's perfect.\"<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>Steve's room is next to Thor's, which Steve doesn't really mind, except, well. Thor and Jane have sex a lot. Thor is kind of loud, and seems to enjoy narrating the proceedings, so even though the house is expensively built and the walls are thick, sometimes Steve hears them anyway. Sometimes they even wake him up out of a sound sleep.<br \/><br \/>Steve is just about to while away a few hours reading by his window when the thumping sounds start next door, and it's not long before Thor begins describing what's going on, and good Lord, it's the middle of the day. Steve decides to take his book down to the sunroom, his second favorite reading spot, but when he gets there Darcy is sitting cross-legged in one of the chairs, flipping through what looks like Tony's mail. She smiles at him when she sees him hesitate in the doorway, and drops a big manila envelope on top of the one of the piles on the floor next to her chair. She's wearing her cute glasses and a T-shirt with a piece of cartoon sushi on it.<br \/><br \/>\"Hey!\" she says brightly, which always makes him feel good, like she's happy to see him, but she's usually happy to see everybody. Except Agent Coulson, who obviously did something in the past to get on her bad side. Steve's not sure what it was.<br \/><br \/>\"Hi, Darcy,\" he says, unsure what to do. If he sits down and reads where she's working, will it seem rude? But if he walks away, obviously changing his mind about sitting in the sunroom after seeing her there, will <i>that<\/i> seem rude? He's always been so hopeless around women. Skull-faced Nazis are so much easier to deal with.<br \/><br \/>\"Are you coming in?\" she asks, raising an eyebrow at him. He waited too long to decide, and now she's noticed. <br \/><br \/>\"I was going to read in here, but if you're working\u2026\" he trails off, hoping she'll give him a clue what to do.<br \/><br \/>\"No, no, it's fine. Sit,\" she says, waving him in. Then she gives him a knowing look. \"Jane just got back from Toronto,\" she says. \"A little noisy in your room?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yes,\" Steve manages to say. He'd rather not discuss it. Thankfully, Darcy doesn't continue with that uncomfortable line of conversation, because her phone makes a little noise, like a rooster squawking. She picks it up, frowns at it, and then types something, so fast her thumbs are almost a blur, and puts it back down. Steve grabs a spot on the chaise while she's doing that. <br \/><br \/>He doesn't get much reading done. While he doesn't mean to watch her work, she's more interesting than his book, and he can't seem to forget she's there. She talks to herself a lot, mutters scoldingly at people who aren't even there--mainly Tony--and chews on her lip and blows wisps of hair out of her eyes. Her phone keeps making the rooster noise every couple minutes, often enough that Steve guesses it's the ringtone she's assigned to Tony.<br \/><br \/>\"So,\" she says, after a while. \"Are you going to the Gotham Hall thing?\" She doesn't look at him, just keeps sorting through a sheaf of papers in her hands, but Steve gets the feeling it's false casualness.<br \/><br \/>\"I have to, I guess,\" he says. The Avengers are getting some kind of award, with a big fancy dinner and little glasses of champagne. And probably many embarrassing speeches. Steve really dislikes the speeches.<br \/><br \/>\"Oh, good,\" Darcy says, looking relieved. \"So am I, and since I don't have a date and you don't have a date, we can hang out together. Everyone else will be paired up.\" <br \/><br \/>\"How do you know I don't have a date?\" Steve asks, feeling a little stung by the assumption.<br \/><br \/>Darcy has the decency to look embarrassed, and he immediately feels bad for doing that to her. \"Well-I thought-you usually don't-um, sorry? Do you?\"<br \/><br \/>\"No,\" he admits, and then laughs when she glares at him. \"You, I guess,\" he adds, unable to stop himself from smiling at her.<br \/><br \/>\"It's not a date!\" Darcy says immediately, pointing at him with the papers. \"We're just going to be in the same place together.\" <br \/><br \/>Steve holds his hands up in surrender. \"Okay, not a date, got it,\" he says, still grinning, but he feels pretty good about it just the same. It'll be nice to have someone there he's supposed to sit with and talk to, rather than feeling like he's lost in a sea of strangers, or hovering around his friends.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm sending an email <i>right now<\/i>,\" Darcy says, grabbing one of Tony's computer tablets off the floor, \"so we get seated at the same table. We'll be with Thor and Jane and Clint and Natasha.\"<br \/><br \/>\"All right,\" Steve says. He doesn't much care where they sit. \"Are Clint and Natasha\u2026together?\" he asks once the email is sent, because he's been wondering that for a while. It's rude to gossip, but he honestly can't figure it out, and since they're all friends, he figures it's okay to ask Darcy.<br \/><br \/>\"Well, you know,\" Darcy says, shrugging, which doesn't help at all. She's already absorbed in Tony's papers again.<br \/><br \/>\"Not really,\" he says. That's why he asked.<br \/><br \/>\"Oh!\" She does a finger snap that ends with her pointing at him. \"That's right! You probably don't know about fuckbuddies.\"<br \/><br \/>It feels like Steve's eyes bug out of his head when she says that word, and it must look a little like it, too, because Darcy winces apologetically. Steve still hasn't gotten used to the prevalence of casual profanity in modern culture. He can swear with the best of them-he was in the army, after all-but he usually needs a pretty good reason to drop the f-bomb. These days, it seems to be more of an adjective.<br \/><br \/>\"No, I don't know about\u2026that,\" he admits, feeling a little reluctant to hear more.<br \/><br \/>\"It's when you're friends with someone and you have sex with them, but you're not a couple,\" Darcy says breezily. \"I think that's what Clint and Natasha do when they aren't dating other people.\" She peers at him. \"Are you shocked?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Not too much,\" he says honestly, and it really is true. It's not like sex didn't exist back in his day, and people were certainly having their share of it, whether married or dating or whatever. Steve used to say that Bucky was getting his share <i>and<\/i> Steve's. But being so casual and open about it is certainly not what he's accustomed to, though he'd probably be less put off by it if it were called something a little less crass.<br \/><br \/>\"You'll get used to it,\" she says, and goes back to Tony's mail.<br \/><br \/>Steve's not quite sure about that, but he's willing to keep an open mind.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>Darcy was right, Steve admits to himself later that day, once he's back in his own now-blessedly quiet room. He never has a date for anything. He's self-aware enough to realize it's becoming an issue. <br \/><br \/>It's not like he has any shortage of options-people, both male and female, are not shy about letting him know they're interested-but for a long time after he woke up he was still in mourning. What he had with Peggy wasn't in the distant past for him the way it was for everyone around him; it was yesterday, last week, two months ago. At the time, it was hard not to feel trapped between two different time periods, the past he desperately wanted to get back, and the future he was struggling to join, and sometimes it still seems like he's made a mess of both.<br \/><br \/>He's ninety-five years old, a war hero, an Avenger, and he's never done anything more than kiss a woman. The idea of admitting that to anyone is embarrassing, and so he's been avoiding it, and then the longer he avoids it, the more time passes and the more embarrassing it gets. He's going to die a virgin if he doesn't figure out a way to face it.<br \/><br \/>Which is a whole lot of leaps to take from going on a Not Date with Darcy, so he decides to think about something else.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>What he doesn't anticipate, though, is that once they agree to go on their Not Date, it changes things a little. They talk a lot more, and sit next to each other on pancake day, and he notices all over again how pretty she is. He tries not to think about it too much, or focus on her more than he ought to, but now they have a thing that's just between the two of them, whereas before they simply shared a circle of friends, and he's enjoying it too much to try too hard.<br \/><br \/>The talking is nice, though, because one thing Steve values now more than ever is being able to have a conversation like a regular person. A lot of the people he meets now treat him like a celebrity or a curiosity, or want to flirt with him. Steve is <i>bad<\/i> at flirty banter, and he knows it. <br \/><br \/>Tony makes it look so easy, and he does it with everyone-with all the other Avengers, with waiters, with random people on the street, even with his robots-and it seems like every other word that comes out of his mouth has some kind of hidden sexual connotation. If Steve had to do that all day the pressure would drive him crazy. He appreciates that Darcy is enjoyable to be around and interested in what he has to say without making him feel like he has to come up with witty replies or watch out for double meanings all the time. It's the closest thing he's had to his friendship with Bucky since he came out of the ice.<br \/><br \/>Steve shares his black licorice with her when they watch movies, because she's the only other person in the house who likes it, and spots her on the trampoline when she practices doing mid-air somersaults. When the Avengers get offered-through a convoluted set of events involving a train derailment, a clown college, and ten thousand bees-the chance to tour an elephant sanctuary, he makes sure Darcy gets invited, too. As neat as the elephants are, Steve thinks watching her have the time of her life is nearly as fun.<br \/><br \/>Darcy gives him-with Tony's permission-a yellowed scrapbook she finds in the office, filled with fragile newspaper clippings about Captain America's WWII adventures, and grainy black and white photos of Steve and the Howling Commandos, everyone still young and strong and alive. She leaves him alone in the sunroom to page through it, hands shaking, heart lodged in his throat, and then comes back later with two bowls of mint chip ice cream, and shows him a video of otters holding hands, and doesn't say anything at all about his eyes being red.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>There's a knock at his door one afternoon a few days before the Gotham Hall event, and Steve immediately puts down his book and goes to open it. He once made the mistake of simply calling out to whomever was knocking to come in, and ended up with Hulk and Volstagg in his room; he's never doing that again.<br \/><br \/>This time it's Tony. He's dressed in a suit, but his tie is missing and he's wearing sunglasses, even though he's in the house. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey, you free?\" Tony asks, not looking up from his phone. \"We need to go jewelry shopping.\"<br \/><br \/>Steve thinks maybe Tony knocked on the wrong door. \"We do?\"<br \/><br \/>Tony finishes whatever he's doing and shoves his phone in his pocket, then finally looks up at him. \"Yep. For Pepper and Darcy.\" When Steve stares at him blankly he adds, \"For the Gotham Hall thing?\"<br \/><br \/>Steve suspects he does a bad job of hiding his surprise that Tony knows about Darcy and the Gotham Hall thing. There's no reason it should be a secret, really-especially since everyone will see them there together eventually-but they've never discussed it in front of the others, and Steve's been careful about taking his cues from Darcy. \"I\u2026\" he says, and then has no idea what else he intended to say.<br \/><br \/>\"You are going with Darcy, right?\" Tony asks, really slowly, as if Steve were three years old.<br \/><br \/>\"Yes,\" Steve says. \"Or, well. No. We're not going together. We're just going to be in the same place together.\" It's a distinction that seems important to Darcy, so he wants to make sure Tony knows about it.<br \/><br \/>\"Uh huh,\" Tony says. He pulls his sunglasses down enough to look at Steve over the top of them, then pushes them back up. \"Well, I have it on good authority she's wearing a black dress and red shoes, and has no expensive jewelry, so let's go. Bring your wallet.\"<br \/><br \/>The people at the jewelry store are thrilled to see Tony; it's Steve's experience that people in stores of any kind usually are. A balding man with a little round belly comes out of the back and makes a big fuss over Tony, clapping him on the shoulder while he shakes his hand, which Steve happens to know Tony hates. Several other employees immediately begin pulling out special pieces from the little cabinets under the display case, fluttering around Tony like excited birds while Steve hangs back, reluctant to be the focus of that much fawning. <br \/><br \/>Steve, who has never bought a piece of jewelry for a woman before in his life, has no idea what he's supposed to buy, so he wanders around and looks at everything, feeling increasingly confused. He notices nothing has a price tag on it. That can't be good.<br \/><br \/>Tony seems to be deep in the process of happily buying out the place within minutes, but Steve doesn't see anything that looks like Darcy would like it. All the necklaces-Tony said a necklace would be his best bet-seem too big or too small or too fancy or too boring. And he doesn't really know Darcy all that well, not like Tony knows Pepper. Tony may need Jarvis to remind him of Pepper's birthday, but the man can pick out jewelry for her like nobody's business. Steve knows this because Jane and Pepper both say so.<br \/><br \/>Another employee, this one a tall, graceful woman with the tiniest eyebrows Steve has ever seen, walks over to him, smiling and friendly. After introducing herself as Margot, she asks him what he's looking for, which doesn't really help, because he has no idea. Tony's got three necklaces, several pairs of earrings, and a pair of cufflinks on the counter already.<br \/><br \/>Steve says, \"I need to buy something for my-\"<br \/><br \/>\"Date!\" Tony yells.<br \/><br \/>\"-for my <i>friend<\/i>,\" Steve corrects him.<br \/><br \/>Margot gives him a little smile, the kind that might be holding back a laugh. People make that face a lot when Tony and Steve go out in public together. \"What is your friend like?\" she asks.<br \/><br \/>Steve thinks about that for a second and then says, \"Quirky.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I would have gone with 'busty,'\" Tony says from where he's trying on watches. Steve shoots him a disapproving look, which Tony either doesn't notice or plain ignores.<br \/><br \/>Margot still manages to not laugh. Steve gives her a lot of credit for this. She looks up at the ceiling for a second, tapping her finger on her chin, and then motions for him to follow her along the counter, which he obediently does until she stops and takes out a velvet tray of necklaces. <br \/><br \/>He knows exactly what he's going to get Darcy the minute he sees it: a silver chain with a sparkling red ladybug pendant hanging from it. Darcy has a scarf that has ladybugs on it, Steve's seen her wear it during the winter. And the necklace is red, which will match her shoes, which he assumes he's supposed to keep in mind.<br \/><br \/>After he points to it, Margot explains it to him in detail, something about diamonds and rubies and white gold and whatnot, but he just nods and says, \"I'll take it.\" It's the only thing in the store he can picture on her. He hands over his credit card, because it's doubtful he has enough cash in his wallet to pay for it that way.<br \/><br \/>Tony wanders over and gestures at Margot as she's putting the necklace in a fancy box, and she obligingly hands it over for him to look at. Steve thinks he's going to scoff, or make fun of his choice, but Tony just says, \"Good call.\" It's the least flippant Steve's heard him sound all day.<br \/><br \/>Tony isn't done yet, so Steve waits around while he decides to get some extra rings, two more watches and a money clip, even though Steve's never seen him carry actual money. The man behind the counter doesn't bother to tell him the total, and Tony doesn't bother to ask, just hands over his card. Steve didn't get his total either, so when he gets out to the car and looks at the receipt, he feels a little faint.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>The night of the Gotham Hall event, Steve puts on his dress uniform with a little more anticipation than he usually feels when getting ready for an award ceremony, taking even more time than usual with the buttons and the medals and the way his shirt is tucked. He combs his hair and checks his shoes for the slightest speck of dust, and then carefully retrieves the necklace from his desk drawer. More nervous than the situation probably warrants, he combs his hair one more time and then tells himself to stop being ridiculous and leave already.<br \/><br \/>Darcy is spending the night at the house, so Steve waits patiently outside the red bedroom, leaning against the wall, trying not to fidget with the necklace box too much, until the door opens and there's Darcy in her dress, holding a really sparkly, really tiny red purse. She obviously didn't expect him to be waiting there, but smiles and says, \"Oh, hey!\" <br \/><br \/>Tony was well-informed about what Darcy was going to wear. Her dress is black and tight and seems very\u2026well-constructed toward the top. A big portion of the back is entirely sheer, and the whole thing covers quite a bit of her while still managing to be more revealing than anything else he's ever seen her wear. It isn't exactly low-cut in the front, but, well. Steve makes himself look somewhere else before he gets caught staring.<br \/><br \/>Her shiny red shoes are a style he recognizes from his time, with little peep toes and dainty straps around her ankles. She's got her hair twisted into a pile on top of her head, but much more tidily than it usually is when she's just hanging around the house telling Tony what to do. Her lipstick is also red-another thing he likes, and will probably always like-and she's wearing delicate silver earrings, but no necklace, he's pleased to see. She looks beautiful. <br \/><br \/>\"You look beautiful,\" he says, without really meaning to. Darcy actually seems a little embarrassed by the compliment, if the uncharacteristically shy smile is anything to go by; Darcy rarely looks shy. Steve belatedly wonders if compliments are allowed on Not Dates. He may have already committed a faux pas.<br \/><br \/>\"Thanks. You look pretty nice yourself,\" she says, and thumbs the captain's bars on his jacket, which pleases him. He's proud of the bars, even if he doesn't always agree with the policies they represent nowadays.<br \/><br \/>\"I got you this,\" he says, and holds the box the way Tony showed him, opening it so she can see what's inside. <br \/><br \/>Her eyes widen when she sees the necklace. \"Oh, it's adorable!\" she says, and when she looks up at him, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, their gazes lock for a second, and Steve feels his breath catch. For a moment he suddenly sees her like he's never seen her before, not as fun Darcy who's always around the house, but as someone else, someone both strange and familiar he'd like to know a lot better. He looks back down at the necklace in its box and hopes none of that shows.<br \/><br \/>She <i>loves<\/i> the necklace, and Steve is pretty proud of the job he did choosing it. When she turns around so he can put it on her, he's momentarily distracted by the back of her dress, and just how far down the sheer part of it goes. He tells himself again to keep his eyes up, but that turns out to be just as distracting.<br \/><br \/>The nape of her neck is pale and soft, and feathery wisps of hair tickle his fingers as he tackles the unexpectedly complicated job of getting the necklace in place. She smells really nice, too, of something slightly flowery.  He manages to get the necklace on her, only fumbling the clasp a little-it's so tiny-and when he finally settles the chain against her neck, smoothing it lightly with one fingertip, he has an almost overwhelming urge to kiss her there, press his mouth to her silky skin and breathe her in for a moment. He takes a step back and clears his throat. \"All done.\"<br \/><br \/>Darcy turns, two fingers touching the ladybug where it rests above her cleavage, and practically throws herself into his arms. He manages to keep them both on their feet as she hugs him around his neck and pecks him on the cheek. Once she lets him go, she supervises while he wipes the lipstick away with his handkerchief, both of them laughing. <br \/><br \/>When that's all done, he gives her his arm. She slips hers through it and says, \"Off we go, Captain Rogers.\" <br \/><br \/>It's been a long time--nearly a century, even--since Steve's looked forward to an evening as much as he does this one.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>The whole group rides over to Gotham Hall in several different cars, then congregates in a special room set aside for them, where they all tug at their nice clothes and adjust each other's ties. Thor is dressed in some kind of Asgardian ceremonial thing with an extra-long cape, though he appears to have left his helmet at home this time. Pepper is wearing a shimmery green dress, and an emerald necklace Steve recognizes from the day at the jewelry store. Tony gives Darcy and Steve an appraising look, checks out the ladybug, and gives Steve a thumbs up. The only two people who seem surprised to see Darcy with Steve are Clint and Bruce.<br \/><br \/>It's probably the least painful award ceremony Steve's been to since, well. Ever. There's a cocktail reception first, where he has to mingle and talk to people he doesn't know and doesn't particularly care to know, but Darcy sticks with him the whole time. She probably doesn't realize this is his least favorite part, and that having her at his side makes it a million times more tolerable, but that doesn't make him any less grateful for it. <br \/><br \/>He introduces her to everyone as Darcy Lewis, without any kind of qualifier like \"friend\" or \"date,\" because that seems easiest; more than once, he sees other men give her an admiring glance. Jane and Pepper and Natasha-and probably Darcy herself-would give him a lecture to end all lectures if they knew he was succumbing to old-fashioned masculine pride, but he feels a bit smug all the same that Darcy is there with him. <br \/><br \/>They circulate as is expected of them, and talk to all the right people. Darcy knocks it out of the park, in Steve's opinion. He knows she's young, and that she hasn't been to many functions of this sort, but her naturally outgoing nature and her indifference to titles and positions that intimidate a lot of other people turn what's normally excruciating small talk into a source of entertainment. Steve finds himself unexpectedly charmed by her all over again. <br \/><br \/>He keeps his hand on the small of her back, gets her as many tiny glasses of champagne as she wants, and enjoys the feel of her arm bumping against his ribs as they talk to politicians and business people and military bigwigs. The reception part is over before he knows it.<br \/><br \/>Steve and Darcy are, as promised, at a table with Clint and Natasha and Thor and Jane. The food is the usual beautifully crafted stingy portions always served at these events, but the conversation at their table is lively, because anything that includes Thor is lively by default. Every once in a while Steve can't help but glance at Darcy, sitting next to him in her figure-hugging dress, wearing the necklace he bought for her, laughing and threatening to shove Thor's face into his wasabi mashed potatoes if he doesn't quit making bad jokes about his \"hammer.\" At one point, Clint catches Steve staring down at the too-tempting swell of her cleavage, and winks at him.<br \/><br \/>The main course might have been nothing to get excited about, but dessert is cupcakes decorated in Avengers colors, and they are delicious. The server tries to give Steve a Captain America version, but he politely declines and takes a Hulk one, which is purple and green. Darcy's is Iron Man red and yellow, and Jane teases her about not being able to get away from her boss. Steve notices that Clint gives Natasha the cake part of his, and she gives Clint her frosting, without even discussing it. For a moment he's envious of the years they've had together, and all the things they know about each other, but that feels a little ungracious when he's had such a lovely time so far with Darcy, so he puts it out of his mind.<br \/><br \/>Finally, there's the award part, which includes the standard montage of Avengers news footage set to soaring music, and several tedious speeches that are mainly used to score points with the public in an election year. At least this time the award is just one very pointy crystal trophy rather than individual medals, so they all don't have to get up on stage. Tony accepts the pointy award on behalf of the Avengers and gives the thank you speech, which means he mostly just talks about himself in his usual hilariously arrogant way. <br \/><br \/>At one point during the speeches, Steve realizes he's got his arm across the back of Darcy's chair. She doesn't seem to care, so he leaves it there until Tony struts off the stage, high-fiving all the dignitaries clustered on the stage as he goes, and it's finally time to head home. <br \/><br \/>For what is surely the first time ever, Steve thinks a mandatory social function has ended too soon.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>They're barely through the front door of the mansion before Tony announces he isn't nearly drunk enough yet, so they all go out to the back patio in their dressy clothes, where Tony makes huge drinks with sinister sounding names like \"Kamikaze\" and \"Liquid Death.\" Everyone but Steve gets noticeably tipsy, there's the usual off-key singing of Asgardian drinking songs, and Steve kisses Darcy.<br \/><br \/>The kiss doesn't actually happen out on the patio in front of everyone, of course, or even right away. At first, Steve makes a concerted effort to stay away from Darcy-the award ceremony is over, which must mean their Not Date is over, too-but once everyone has a drink in their hand, she sits down next to him on the bench rocker and offers him a taste of hers. It's fairly awful. <br \/><br \/>She must like it fine, because she keeps drinking it as she takes off her shoes and tucks her feet under her on the rocker as best she can in her tight dress. Bruce and Pepper walk over and they all discuss the \"Fury had a tonsillectomy yesterday\" rumor that was going around the Gotham Hall thing, until Tony feels like he isn't getting enough attention and barges into the conversation. <br \/><br \/>The topic changes to something called Hungry Hungry Hippos, which Steve doesn't know anything about. Based on what they're saying, it might be one of those games people play on their phones, like the one with the angry birds, which is something Steve has very little interest in, so he pretends to follow the conversation while actually thinking about the way Darcy's bent knee is pressing against the side of his thigh, and the way her arm brushes against his every time she lifts her glass. It's not an unpleasant way to pass the time.<br \/><br \/>Tony's deadly drinks start to do their magic in earnest, and jackets and ties start coming off, and eventually Clint's in the pool, possibly naked. Natasha, Betty, and Pepper are bouncing on the trampoline in their expensive dresses while Bruce and Tony argue about some incomprehensible science stuff. Jane is sitting on Thor's lap, and his hand is starting to creep up her leg. It's likely Steve will be sleeping on the couch in the den again tonight. <br \/><br \/>Darcy sets down her empty glass and starts plucking at her hair, and once Steve realizes she's trying to take out the bobby pins that are still holding her hair up, he goes to work on them himself. There are a lot of them, and her hair-do is a lot more complicated than he realized, so it takes a while. <br \/><br \/>He drops the little pins into her hand one by one, and her hair slowly comes loose, falling down over her neck and shoulders in heavy waves. It's really soft and smells really good. When he's done, she rolls her head on her neck, and sighs dramatically. \"Thanks. I was starting to feel like my skull was going to crack in half.\" <br \/><br \/>\"You have a headache?\" he asks. He hadn't realized wearing her hair like that could be uncomfortable. On impulse, he slides his fingers up along the tempting skin of her neck, skipping lightly over the necklace chain, and gently rubs the back of her head. <br \/><br \/>She leans into his touch and makes a purring sound that makes his belly do a little flip inside. \"Oh, that feels good,\" she breathes. \"Keep doing that.\" It's no hardship, so that's what he does for a while, working his way up to the top of her head and back down, then over to each temple, pausing at any particularly tender spots, until she finally settles against his side. \"You better stop or I'm going to fall asleep,\" she says, half laughing and half yawning. His hand slides out of her hair and down around her shoulder, and he tugs her a little closer. <br \/><br \/>Darcy nearly falls asleep anyway, head tipped onto Steve's shoulder as he pushes his toes against the ground to keep the rocker moving just enough. Neither of them says anything much, but it doesn't feel awkward at all. It might be Steve's favorite part of the night so far.<br \/><br \/>Eventually the impromptu party starts to wind down, and it doesn't escape Steve's notice that everyone's breaking off into their original pairs again. Betty drags Bruce over to a chaise where they sit together and laugh at the photos Darcy's been posting to Tony's Facebook page all evening. Tony sits on the ground in front of Pepper's chair, heedless of his expensive tuxedo, and leans his head back so she can run her fingers through his hair. There's some laughing and splashing over by the pool, and a few seconds later Natasha chases Clint into the gazebo. Clint's still naked.<br \/><br \/>\"I think that's our cue to leave,\" Steve says. Bruce and Betty must agree, because the words are barely out of Steve's mouth before they're up and gone. <br \/><br \/>\"I think that's our cue to bust out the night vision goggles,\" Tony says, and then, \"Kidding! I was kidding!\" when Pepper pretends to grab him by the earlobe and haul him to his feet.<br \/><br \/>As Darcy sits up, yawning against the back of her hand, Steve reluctantly admits to himself that the evening really is over this time. The thought of going back to his room alone is a little depressing, but Darcy puts her shoes back on and looks at him expectantly, so he finds his tie and threads her arm through his. He'll walk her back to her room, at least.  <br \/><br \/>When they get to her door, she hugs him again, for a long time. \"Thank you,\" she says against his chest. She's a lot shorter than he is, even in her nice red shoes. He thinks he's probably hugging her a little too hard, and his hands are maybe a little too interested in exploring the silky back of her dress. It's like all the lines of their friendship are blurring and he can't tell if he's crossing them or not anymore.<br \/><br \/>He doesn't plan to kiss her, and definitely doesn't mean to, but he's been feeling a pull toward her all night, a pull he kept telling himself meant he was getting too invested in their date that isn't really a date, but with little success. He's maybe not very good at going on Not Dates. <br \/><br \/>She takes a step back and he reluctantly lets go, but then she looks up at him, and it's suddenly like he's on auto-pilot. He's not even sure how his arms get around her again, but they do. She leans in, lifting her pretty face up to his, and it just\u2026happens. He bends his head and touches his mouth to hers, a kiss that's barely a kiss, and his brain tells him <i>that's it, that's enough, let go of her<\/i>, but he doesn't, because her mouth opens under his, teasingly slow, and now there's no denying that he's been wanting to do this all night, so he does. <br \/><br \/>He tentatively touches his tongue to hers and she responds instantly, the insistent heat of her mouth sending a tingle down his spine. He pulls her flush against him, nearly groaning when he feels the soft press of her breasts against his chest and the delicate edge of her shoulder blade under his fingers. One of her hands slides up the back of his neck, leaving goose bumps in its wake, and her fingers gently tug his hair, which feels surprisingly nice.<br \/><br \/>All of Steve's prior experiences with kisses have been rushed and too far in between, so with Darcy he takes his time and makes it count, holding her tightly against him and coaxing her mouth open a little wider. The kiss gets deeper and hungrier, and he feels like his whole body is lighting up, ready for more. <br \/><br \/>She breaks the kiss first, slowing it down, and turning it back into something light and teasing. Even though he'd like to do this longer-much, much longer-he follows her lead. When he opens his eyes, she's smiling up at him, a smaller, softer smile than he's used to seeing.<br \/><br \/>\"I guess I wasn't supposed to do that,\" he says, after he clears his throat, but he doesn't feel very sorry, and he doesn't let her go.<br \/><br \/>\"No?\" She bumps her nose against his. \"Why not? It was nice.\"<br \/><br \/>He's thrilled she thought it was nice. \"Well, this isn't-we're not really on a date.\" Though he may as well admit at this point, at least to himself, that he wishes they were.<br \/><br \/>\"No, we aren't,\" she says quietly, and even though he's known that all along, hearing her say it leaves him feeling inexplicably disappointed. \"But, you know, we're both attractive people, and we're both single, so there's no reason why we can't\u2026you know.\" She kisses him again, touching his upper lip lightly with her tongue, but just as he's about to say, yes, he'd love to, she tucks her face against his neck and says, \"Be fuckbuddies.\"<br \/><br \/>It's probably a good thing she can't see his face, because it gives him a second to recover and figure out how he feels, which is a confusing mixture of thrilled and disappointed. For a second, he'd thought she was going to say she wanted to go on a real date with him, and he wants that. Oh, does he want that. That she doesn't is a letdown, there's no denying that. But she does want <i>something<\/i> with him, something he thinks he wants, too, like lots of kissing and\u2026other things. Things she's offering.<br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" he says, impulsively, before he can talk himself out of it. He has one condition, though: \"But only if we call it something else.\" <br \/><br \/>She huffs a laugh against his throat, which makes him laugh a little, too. He knows she probably thinks he's hilariously uptight, and he guesses he kind of is, but he doesn't really feel that way at the moment. Her fingers are still twisting in his hair, sending hot little sparks of sensation down the back of his neck. He'd probably say yes to a lot of things right now.<br \/><br \/>She pulls back a little and looks up at him, making a funny thinking face. \"Hmmm. How about\u2026fuddies? How's that?\"<br \/><br \/>He thinks that isn't the greatest word either, but it's better than the alternative. \"That's <i>a little<\/i> better,\" he concedes.<br \/><br \/>\"All right. Let's shake on it,\" she says, and he sees the glint in her eye. He's not stupid, so he kisses her again; now that he's started he can't seem to stop. This time there's a lot more heat in it, maybe because now they both know this is going to go somewhere.<br \/><br \/>\"Best handshake ever,\" she says fuzzily when they finally come up for air again. Her eyelashes flutter a little as she sways in his arms. Steve thinks he might be a pretty good kisser for a guy who's only done this a handful of times.<br \/><br \/>\"So, uh, now what?\" he asks. He's not sure if this means they're going to have sex right now or not. <br \/><br \/>\"Come over to my place tomorrow,\" she says, nipping playfully at his chin, rubbing against him just enough for him to know it's on purpose. \"We'll cut the ribbon on this thing. Sound good?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Sounds good,\" he says, relieved they'll be somewhere a little more private, even if it means waiting. He doubts he'll be as loud as Thor, but he's not sure he'd be completely comfortable knowing all their friends are nearby, and will probably realize what they're doing.<br \/><br \/>Her phone starts crowing at her from inside her little purse, and Steve reluctantly lets go of her again as she scowls and mutters, \"Tony, I'm off duty, what are you doing?\" She kisses him on the cheek before she goes into her room, then turns and takes a step back toward him and grabs him by the collar and pulls him in for another, less innocent kiss that leaves him dazed and blinking when she finally lets go of him. As she turns away, she takes her phone out of her purse and glares at it. <br \/><br \/>Steve had planned, back before the kisses, to tell her how much fun their evening together had been, and thank her for suggesting it in the first place, but all he can do now is grin at her like a fool as she winks at him and shuts the door behind her. <br \/><br \/>He stands there for a few seconds, waiting for the fog to clear from his brain, and then leans his forehead against the expensive wood of the door and wonders what the hell he just did.<br \/><br \/>Continued <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/839845.html\" target=\"_blank\">here.<\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:839845","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/839845.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=839845"}}],"title":"FIC: Rule Number Nine (Avengers) Darcy Lewis\/Steve Rogers (Explicit) 2\/3","published":"2012-11-09T19:05:26Z","updated":"2012-11-10T13:14:43Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"fanfiction: darcy lewis\/steve rogers"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"avengers!"}}],"content":"<a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/839949.html\" target=\"_blank\">Part One<\/a>  ||   <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/839845.html\" target=\"_blank\">Part Two<\/a>  ||   <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/839536.html\" target=\"_blank\">Part Three<\/a> <br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/>When Steve gets back to his room the next morning, there's a text message from Darcy waiting for him, sent shortly after he gave up on trying to ignore the noise from Thor's room and dragged his pillow and blanket downstairs. So last night really did happen, and she really does want him to come to her place, Steve thinks, as he stares at the message. When he woke up with his face mashed into the back of the couch, it almost didn't seem real. <br \/><br \/>The text is simple, her address and a time to meet, and he almost replies and tells her this whole fuddies thing is a really bad idea, but when his finger starts typing it comes out <i><b>Thanks, see you soon.<\/b><\/i> <br \/><br \/>The house is unusually quiet for most of the morning. Even Tony, who seems to need very little sleep and almost never suffers from any kind of hangover, no matter how much he drinks, isn't up and around. Steve goes for a run in Central Park, churning out the most distracted five miles of his life. As he's standing on the curb across the street from the house, winded and sweaty, he sees Darcy come out and get into a waiting cab. She spots him and gives a little wave as the cab pulls out into traffic. He barely has time to lift his own hand before she's gone.<br \/><br \/>He spends the rest of the day vacillating between excitement and dread, unable to concentrate on anything for more than a few seconds. <i>I'm going to Darcy's to have sex with her<\/i>, he thinks to himself, and can't get over how strange it feels to know that. Bucky made this kind of thing look so easy, but everything having to do with women seemed to come easy for Bucky. <br \/><br \/>Steve changes his mind about a hundred times before he leaves for her apartment, and then twice more between her stoop and her apartment door, but in the end he knocks and she answers. Some of his nervousness subsides when he sees Darcy standing there, looking a little nervous herself, but still undeniably cute in a bright purple sweater and the kind of yoga pants all women seem to wear now, whether they actually do yoga or not. Her hair is falling loose over her shoulders, like it was when he kissed her the night before.<br \/><br \/>He almost says, \"I don't think we should do this,\" or something equally stupid, but before he can speak she grins at him and tugs him inside by the front of his jacket. He's barely over the threshold when she kisses him on the mouth, and he suddenly remembers why this seemed like a good idea.<br \/><br \/>\"Hi, Darcy,\" he says, against the corner of her mouth, a little surprised to find his voice sounds mostly normal, even though his heart feels like it's beating at a ridiculous speed.<br \/><br \/>\"Hi, handsome,\" she says, and gives him another quick kiss. It's almost embarrassing how happy that makes him feel. He knows, objectively, that he's good-looking <i>now<\/i>, but he'll always remember what it was like to be the short, skinny guy women didn't look at twice. It still surprises him, sometimes, when other people find him attractive. He's beyond pleased Darcy does.<br \/><br \/>He looks around a little as she takes his hand and leads him over to the couch. The apartment is a lot like Darcy: an interestingly shaped space with a lot of personality. She's right, though-the red bedroom at the mansion really is bigger than her apartment. The place is filled with colorful, mismatched furniture and odd little tchotchkes, the kitchen is basically just an alcove, and the bedroom has a curtain for a door. It's a comfy, welcoming place, and he notices with delight that she has a crowded shelf of actual paper books. It seems like no one has real books anymore. <br \/><br \/>The couch is small and beat up, and a weird orange-brown color, partially covered with a fluffy yellow blanket. He sits down on it and tries not to look surprised when she straddles his legs and kisses him some more. This is what he came here for, after all. <br \/><br \/>The sleeves of her sweater are, like almost all of Darcy's sleeves, way too long, coming down to over her hands, and the fuzz tickles the sides of his face when she runs her thumbs over his cheekbones. \"I was afraid you'd change your mind,\" she says, between kisses, and he must look guilty, because she stops kissing him and makes an exaggerated shocked face. \"You were going to back out!\" <br \/><br \/>\"I'm not backing out,\" he says, and he's never meant something so much in his entire life. Now that he's here and she's in his lap, it would take an alien invasion to pry him away from her. Which is always a possibility in his line of work, so he hopes that won't happen for at least a few more hours. She nudges at his jaw with her chin until he tips his head back, and then she leaves a line of hot, sucking kisses along the tendon in his neck. \"Definitely not backing out,\" he chokes out. \"Um. Oh, that's--\"<br \/><br \/>\"Good to know,\" Darcy says, her breath on his wet skin sending shivers through him. She uses her hand on his cheek to turn his face until their mouths meet again, and whatever response Steve might have made is lost in the kiss, and the kiss after that, and all the kisses that seem to blend into one long blur of her mouth on his, and her hands in his hair.<br \/><br \/>Her purple sweater is really soft and fuzzy, and it feels good under his hands when he slides them around her waist and up her back. She makes a pleased sound into his mouth and presses down on him, where he's already hard and ready for her. It makes him suck in a breath and lift his hips to meet her as he slowly tugs the back of her sweater up, trying to get his hands under it, until she says, \"Wait, wait.\"<br \/><br \/>He stops kissing her and lets his hands fall to her hips, feeling inexplicably guilty about what he was doing, even though they've already agreed to do that and more. She leans her forehead against his as they both catch their breath. <br \/><br \/>\"I forgot we should probably talk about the rules,\" she says, sitting up a little. \"Since I guess you don't know them.\" <br \/><br \/>That wasn't at all what Steve was expecting to hear. He had no idea there were rules. If he didn't already feel over his head, he would now. \"Right,\" he says, trying to focus on what she's saying and not how eager he feels and how gorgeous she looks right now. It's not an easy job, especially with her fingers still slipping through his hair, making a mess of it. <br \/><br \/>\"First rule,\" she says. \"Condoms always.\" Steve nods. He has no problem with that. Theoretically. He knows some guys-jerks, in his opinion-complain about it, but he wouldn't know the difference, so it's nothing to him, and he knows it's the responsible thing to do.<br \/><br \/>\"Second: no spending the night unless invited.\" This one brings him up short. He hadn't realized that wouldn't be allowed. He nods anyway, even though he's a little disappointed. He's never spent the night with a woman before, obviously, but the idea of it had been appealing. <br \/><br \/>\"No one can know,\" she says. That one he is on board with, 100%. He's still not even sure if he's totally comfortable with what he's doing, and he feels like he'd mostly be embarrassed if everyone knew. Not embarrassed by Darcy, but that people would know something so private about them. He nods again, vigorously.<br \/><br \/>\"No public displays of affection, especially when we're around our friends. We can talk to each other, act normal, but no kissy face stuff,\" she continues, and then rattles off the rest more quickly. \"Anyone can call it quits at any time, no explanation necessary. No holiday gifts. Always call or text before coming over, no drop-ins allowed.\" Steve just continues to nod along until she gets to the last one: \"And no feelings.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Feelings?\" he asks, taken aback. He already has feelings toward her. That's why he's here. <br \/><br \/>\"Like, romantic feelings,\" Darcy explains, flipping her hand in the air. \"You're my fuddy, not my boyfriend. So no hearts and flowers stuff.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Ah. Got it,\" Steve says, and then, because he's finding he doesn't really like this conversation very much, he pulls her down into another kiss. That must be all the rules, because after that the talking stops completely. <br \/><br \/>The kissing gets a little messier, and he slides his hands up under her sweater and cups her breasts, which makes her squirm pleasantly in his lap. He can feel her nipples poking up through the silky material of her bra, so he circles one with his thumb, which makes her squirm even more, and tip her head back so he can kiss her throat at the same time.<br \/><br \/>\"We should go in the bedroom,\" she murmurs, sounding gratifyingly short of breath, and Steve couldn't agree more. <br \/><br \/>Once they get to the bed, it doesn't take long for clothes to start coming off, and his shirts join her sweater on the floor in no time. After she shimmies out of her pants, Darcy rolls him over onto his back and straddles his hips, just in her bra and panties, her hard nipples showing through the nearly transparent pink fabric. Her hair is curling in dark swirls against the skin of her shoulders, and her mouth looks even more lush and tempting than usual, pinked by his kisses. She's even more beautiful this way. He feels like he can't stop touching her. <br \/><br \/>He's not sure how long it's polite to wait before he tries to take her bra off, so he works around it for a bit, sitting up so he can kiss her neck and the center of her chest where he can feel her heart pounding under his mouth. When he finally works the hooks on her bra loose and gently pushes it away, she's rolling her hips against him, and she guides his head down to suck gently on a nipple. Her breasts are beautiful, round and heavy in his hands, and unbelievably soft. He spends a few minutes concentrating on them, figuring out what makes her moan.<br \/><br \/>Just when he feels like he's getting the hang of it, she suddenly pushes him down onto his back, rubbing against him, and the skin on skin is a bit of a shock, a sensation he's never felt before. It's wonderful. But then she reaches for his belt, and it's time to come clean. He closes his hands over hers, stopping her. She gives him a questioning look, and there's no turning back now.<br \/><br \/>\"I need to tell you--I've never done this before,\" he says. <br \/><br \/>\"You've never\u2026.\" she trails off, eyebrows raised.<br \/><br \/>\"I've never done <i>any of this<\/i> before,\" he clarifies. There, he said it.<br \/><br \/>The shocked look on her face makes him feel even more ridiculous. \"Are you joking?\" she asks. <br \/><br \/>\"No.\" God, this is so humiliating.<br \/><br \/>\"But you're-Look at you!\" she says. \"How did no one hit this, ever?\"<br \/><br \/>That's at least a term he understands-Tony uses it all the time. \"It's a long story,\" he says, and then, when it looks like she might want to hear it, he adds, \"And not a very happy one.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Oh,\" she says in small voice. \"I'm sorry.\"<br \/><br \/>Her fingers stop clutching at his belt and instead thread through his and squeeze. It's a sweetly comforting gesture.<br \/><br \/>After that, there's a long, excruciating silence. Finally, Darcy asks him, \"Do you <i>want<\/i> to do this?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yes. Absolutely,\" Steve says immediately. Even this painful conversation has barely made a dent in the hard ridge nudging persistently against his belt buckle. There's no way she can miss it.<br \/><br \/>\"Good,\" she nods. \"Me, too.\" She gives him a reassuring smile. \"Listen, I just want to have fun and make you feel good, okay? No pressure. So don't worry about it.\"<br \/><br \/>He doubts it's possible for him to not worry a little, but he appreciates the sentiment. \"Okay.\" After another extended silence he asks, \"I killed the mood, didn't I?\"<br \/><br \/>\"A little,\" she admits, but she's smiling again, rubbing her thumb against him through his pants, which makes his hips roll up to meet her touch. \"But I'm glad you told me. You want to take off your pants now?\"<br \/><br \/>Does he ever.<br \/><br \/>He feels a little shy about it for a few seconds, mostly because he's unaccustomed to the frankly appreciative look she gives him as he stands and strips. She reaches for him as he crawls back up onto the bed, lightly running her fingers up and down the hard length of him, a teasing touch that makes him shiver. No one's ever touched him there before.<br \/><br \/>He kneels on the bed between her knees and hooks his fingers under the lacy edge of her panties, then slowly eases them down. She's bare down there, completely, and his surprise must show. <br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, that's another thing about the 21st century you'll have to get used to,\" she says with a small laugh. Her fingers are still rubbing him gently, making him twitch in her hand. \"Wide variety of styling choices for the nether regions.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Fine with me,\" he says, and his voice sounds a little more gruff than usual. \"Fine\" is probably an understatement. <br \/><br \/>He reluctantly takes her hand off of him-it's too distracting-and nudges her thighs up and apart with his hands so he can finally touch her. She obligingly reaches down and uses two fingers to spread herself open a little for him, and the sight of her touching herself makes him feel like he's been hit in the back of the head, right down to the ringing in his ears. He really-he really likes that. <i>A lot.<\/i><br \/><br \/>Most of his fevered imaginings involved him touching a woman, or a woman touching him. He'd never thought to picture a woman touching herself, and in hindsight that seems like an unfortunate lapse in judgment because <i>holy smokes.<\/i> <br \/><br \/>\"It's okay, you can touch me,\" Darcy says, nudging him with her knee, and he realizes he probably looks like an idiot, staring at her with his mouth hanging open. Or maybe she thinks he's hesitant to touch her, which he certainly is not. He shifts a little closer and slides his palm down the inside of her thigh.<br \/><br \/>He's never seen a naked woman up close like this before, and definitely never one this naked everywhere. He's an artist; he's seen nudes, even drawn nudes himself, and of course there's always been pornography around, no matter what decade he's been in, but this is different. Darcy is live and in person, and right there for him to touch. There's nothing hidden at all. <br \/><br \/>He runs the pad of his thumb along a delicate pink fold of flesh and hears her suck in a breath as she pushes up towards his touch. She's warm and wet, and not afraid to tell him what feels good as he explores her with his fingers. Once he has the lay of the land, he holds himself over her with a hand braced on the bed and kisses her as he touches her, and slowly slides two fingers up inside her, where she's even hotter and wetter, and unbelievably soft. <br \/><br \/>She feels impossibly small and tight around his fingers as he works in and out of her body, and when his wrist bumps against her, she moans and says, \"Yes,\" so he changes the angle of his arm until she says, \"Right <i>there<\/i>.\" Her hands dig into his shoulders, and she arches her back and bears down on the heel of his hand as he presses forward again and again. At the end she gasps and shudders, and he feels her squeeze tightly around his fingers in a fast rhythm. He had no idea that would happen.<br \/><br \/>They kiss for a while as she catches her breath, him trying not to push himself down into the soft skin of her belly, until she taps her knuckles on his chest and says, \"Ready for the main event?\"<br \/><br \/>He really, really is, but he kind of had other plans. \"Can I-with my mouth?\" He'd been looking forward to it before, and is even more so now.<br \/><br \/>She looks pleased that he wants to do that, but shakes her head and says, \"There'll be time for that later,\" as she reaches for a box of condoms on the table next to the bed. Steve hadn't even thought to buy any, he realizes much too late. He's lucky Darcy did.<br \/><br \/>He expects her to hand the little packet to him, but she doesn't. She tears it open, pointing with her chin where wants him, so he kneels between her thighs while she gets the condom out and rolls it onto him with confident fingers. It's snug but not uncomfortable, and she strokes him a couple times after she gets it on, watching his face. He already feels a little-lightheaded.<br \/><br \/>\"C'mon, handsome,\" she says, urging him down with her knees against his hips. \"I think you've waited long enough.\"<br \/><br \/>He agrees with that sentiment, so he carefully settles between her legs, propped over her on his arms. His heart is pounding and he's incredibly nervous; he hates that he doesn't know any of these things, what exactly he's supposed to do. The aching part of him slides against her, where she's slick and ready for him, and he shivers.<br \/><br \/>She reaches down and takes hold of him, guides him into place, much to his relief, because he doubts he would be able to find his own way. He's not prepared for how it feels, how tight she is around him, how hot she feels, even through the condom. He sinks into her with a shuddering breath and says, \"<i>Oh, my God.<\/i>\"<br \/><br \/>Darcy doesn't say anything, just gives him a minute to gather his wits as she slowly strokes his sides with her hands, kisses his temple. She's so patient with him. He wants to kiss her face, hold her tight and tell her how much he appreciates it, how much it means to him, but the words get tangled in his throat and he can't. Words are quickly becoming an after-thought anyway, because his body is over-riding his mind, demanding action. He rocks his hips a little, and it feels fantastic, so he does it again, pulling back a little more this time, which makes the slow slide back in even better. <br \/><br \/>\"Mmmm, just like that,\" Darcy breathes, clutching at his back. \"Just like that.\"<br \/><br \/>He has no plans to stop, so that's an easy request to follow. He thrusts into her over and over, trying not to go too fast or too hard, but it feels so good it's hard to concentrate. She starts moving with him, tilting her hips up to meet his downward stroke, and that makes it even better. It's indescribable, not at all like he'd imagined, and he's imagined this quite a lot. He's not going to be able to hold out.<br \/><br \/>He pants, \"I don't think I can-\" <br \/><br \/>\"It's okay, just do what feels good,\" she says, urging him on with her hands on his backside. He drops his head next to hers and moves faster, gets maybe a dozen more thrusts in before he's done, breath caught in his lungs as his hips hitch against her in jerky little thrusts. It's so intense his vision swims a little, and he sort of half-collapses on her as the last tremors work through him.<br \/><br \/>Afterward, he's winded and sweating, like he just ran ten miles, and her fingers are combing through his hair where it's sticking to his neck. He lifts his head and she kisses him, laughing against his mouth and he laughs, too, which kind of ruins the kiss, but makes him feel better, less awkward.<br \/><br \/>\"See? First time out of the way, and you did great,\" she says, taking his face in her hands and kissing him again through a smile. He knows it wasn't actually great for her in the same way it was for him, but he'll make it up to her as soon as he can.<br \/><br \/>He's wondered, a time or two, if it wouldn't be easier-and less humiliating-with someone he didn't know, someone he'd never have to see again. At times he's been tempted to treat it like a necessary burden and just get it over with, like getting a haircut. Now he's glad he didn't, because it's nice this way, with Darcy and her smiles.<br \/><br \/>As relaxed as he is, he's still conscious of how heavy he must be, so after a few minutes he reluctantly lifts off of her. There are a lot of instructions involved in pulling out of her and dealing with the condom.<br \/><br \/>\"You're still totally hard,\" she says, sounding surprised, as he sits back on his heels, handful of tissues at the ready.<br \/><br \/>\"Yes.\" He thinks he might be blushing, even after everything they just did. \"It usually takes two or three times before--\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh my God, we are going to have so much fun,\" Darcy says, before he can even finish the sentence. She hands him another condom and says, \"Suit up, you're goin' in again.\"<br \/><br \/>The second time lasts a lot longer, and he doesn't feel so overwhelmed by sensation, and can pay a little more attention to what's going on, and to her specifically. She bites her lip and says, \"Slow, slow,\" so he goes as slow as he can. Based on the noises she makes, he figures out a gentle, languorous rhythm with a little pause, as deep as he can get, and then an equally slow retreat. That seems to do the trick, and he's able to keep going much longer, and then she starts really talking, telling him yes, like that and now a little faster. He does everything she asks, determined to let her finish first this time, gritting his teeth when she digs her fingernails into his biceps. <br \/><br \/>It's close, so very close, but finally her thighs tremble against his hips, and she tips her head back and makes a sound that reaches right into his gut and <i>twists<\/i>. Her orgasm feels amazing, all her little muscles contracting around him in a fluttering pulse, gripping him even more tightly as he rides it out, wanting to wring every inch of pleasure out of her. He watches her, thrilled, until he can't hold back anymore, and then he squeezes his eyes shut and finally follows her.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>Steve feels terribly guilty for thinking it, but there's no denying that he sort of dreads seeing Darcy at the house for the first time the next morning. Even more so when he belatedly realizes that his home is her place of employment--he's been to the SHIELD workplace sexual harassment seminar, he knows the rules. Also, Tony might not be thrilled that Steve is fuddies with his assistant, though Pepper used to be Tony's assistant, Steve remembers, and, well. Tony should understand.<br \/><br \/>Eventually he also remembers that Darcy is Jane and Thor's friend, and that having sex with her could complicate everyone's relationships with each other. For several uncomfortable minutes, Steve's horrified that he's managed to simultaneously break so many rules. <br \/><br \/>Then Darcy walks into the kitchen and nonchalantly punches him on the shoulder with her phone and says to Bruce, \"I'll take one with blueberries, please.\" She sits down next to Steve and smiles, nudges his knee lightly under the table before becoming completely absorbed in updating Tony's Twitter account, and none of that stuff matters at all.<br \/><br \/>After that it's fine. They're both really good at being discreet, and both aware that Jarvis sees everything, so there are no stolen kisses or secret liaisons, even when they're alone in the house. But there are a lot of kisses and liaisons when they're elsewhere. <i>A lot.<\/i> <br \/><br \/>Steve thinks that if he had known just how great sex is, he wouldn't have waited quite so long to have some. And Darcy appears to know a lot about sex, and lot of different ways to have sex, and she seems perfectly comfortable-and very enthusiastic about-showing him all of it. <br \/><br \/>They spend a whole day on oral sex alone, which is a glorious day as far as Steve is concerned. First she teaches him how to use his mouth on her, which he enjoys immensely. For long, long minutes she lays open in front of him and tells him what feels good and what doesn't, moaning encouragement when he gets it right, and gently nudging him elsewhere when he doesn't. She hangs onto his head and arches up against his tongue, which makes him so hard he can barely see straight when he finally levers himself up and guides her hand to him. It doesn't take much before he's gasping for air and striping the gentle curve of her belly, barely done before he collapses next to her.<br \/><br \/>For about half an hour or so, it's the most intense sexual experience of his life so far, and then she completely flattens him with his first blowjob. <br \/><br \/>After that they spend several visits on all the variations of her on top of him-Steve had no idea there were so many-and then she gives him an appraising look and says, \"Super strength, huh?\" and they try a few more acrobatic positions. A few of those end in laughter, and only one in bruises.<br \/><br \/>It seems there's no end to the things they can try, and even the ones he thinks are just okay are still pretty darn good. But many of them are absolutely fantastic. He kneels on the bed and pushes into her from behind-a favorite, because he can span her waist with his hands, smooth his fingers over the rounded curves of her hips, watch himself moving in and out of her. He holds her up against the wall of the shower and blinks water out of his eyes and thrusts up into her; curls up behind her and presses inside while his fingers work between her legs; kneels next to the bed and makes her cry out over and over again with his mouth, hands pressing her thighs open until she begs for a break.<br \/><br \/>As much as he enjoys the sex, he likes the parts before and after it nearly as much. He likes going to her apartment and cuddling on the couch a little beforehand, catching up with each other before they move to the bedroom. He likes standing in the kitchen, naked and pleasantly tired, eating cold pizza from the refrigerator. He likes the way she sometimes pushes his damp hair off his forehead and kisses him there when they're done, and he likes dozing in her bed with his arm slung over her between rounds.  As much as he hates to leave, he likes kissing her goodbye at the door, pinching her lovely bottom on his way out, just to make her laugh and smack him on the arm. <br \/><br \/>But he does hate to leave before morning. He hates it more as time goes on, really, but he respects her too much to try to talk her into letting him stay. He thinks it would be nice, though, if she wanted him to. He'd like to wake up together in the same bed, naked and warm. He'd like to make her moan, and watch her hands clutch at his shoulders in the early morning light, and then eat breakfast together, just the two of them at the crooked little table under the window. He's not sure she would welcome the suggestion, though, since there's a rule against it and everything. It's better to not say anything about it at all.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>At first they see each other once a week or so, and he leaves it to Darcy to initiate, but their lives being what they are, sometimes plans fall through, and after a while he gets more comfortable sending her text messages and asking if he can come over when he's free. He never breaks the \"no drop-ins\" rule.<br \/><br \/>They go on some more Not Dates to official things, and he buys her more jewelry. This is very obviously against the rules, but he decides that it will seem suspicious if he stops--Tony will definitely ask why--so he keeps doing it and she lets him. The first time he shows up at her door with another velvet box, he has a whole argument in favor of jewelry purchases ready to go, but she doesn't bring it up. <br \/><br \/>So that's one rule broken right from the start, but there are seven more, and he'll stick to those.<br \/><br \/>Darcy is a text messaging fiend, sometimes sending several in a row faster than he can respond to them, even if he's got his phone in his hand already. She sends him pictures of herself, of interesting or funny stuff she sees while she's out and about, and sometimes embarrassing photos of Tony doing things like getting his facial hair dyed. Other times she sends him sweet messages like <i><b>Good morning, handsome<\/b><\/i> that end with something that looks like a little sideways butt, or maybe an ice cream cone: <i><b>&lt;3<\/b><\/i>. He has no idea what that means, but the words stay with him all day, and he often re-reads them when he needs something to cheer himself up, so the sideways butts hardly matter.<br \/><br \/>As time goes on, more and more often he finds himself seeking her out after a mission, either looking for her in the house if she's working, or asking if he can come to her place if she isn't. At the house they can't ever to anything more than talk for a few minutes, but sometimes that's all he needs. At her place they always have sex, but sometimes he naps with his head in her lap for a while first. Just seeing her makes him feel better, and while there's no rule in particular against what he's doing, he suspects there should be, because he feels like he's becoming dependent on it. <br \/><br \/>There are a lot of things about his friends he understands so much better now. He understands the way Tony acts toward Pepper, the way he focuses on her and defers to her in a way Steve rarely sees him do with anyone else. He understands the look on Thor's face when Jane walks into the room, and Betty being Bruce's first phone call after he de-Hulks. <br \/><br \/>Before this, he'd never known what it was like to have a beautiful girl waiting for him when he took off his uniform and went back to being Steve Rogers; not during the war, not during his stint with the USO. Back then he'd spent months with only the thought of Peggy, the hope Peggy represented, and one black and white picture of her, torn from an article in <i>Stars and Stripes<\/i>, and nothing more. It had felt like enough at the time-it had felt like everything, more than he'd ever had up until that point-but this is different. He and Darcy have so many of the things he never got a chance to have with Peggy, but wanted to so badly. Some days he can barely believe how lucky he is.<br \/><br \/>People like the Avengers work hard to make sure people like Darcy never have to know just how truly terrible human beings can be, and never have to suffer it first-hand. That's all Steve's wanted his whole life, was to do what he's doing now-to push back, to protect people. He had never imagined the cost, of course. He'd naively thought the worst price he'd pay would be his own life. Now he knows there are worse things to lose.<br \/><br \/>When he's with Darcy, he doesn't feel like a man whose body was created to go to war. A man who has seen the worst of humanity, who has killed more people than he cares to count, or even can count. <br \/><br \/>He feels good, he feels happy. He feels almost normal.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>Summer passes, then turns into fall, and they slowly start doing more things together that aren't official Avengers functions, but are still Not Dates. They go to a few movies, and out for meals a couple times, all things that can be passed off as friends hanging out. Darcy always insists on splitting the bill, which offends all of Steve's sensibilities, but he lets it go.<br \/><br \/>She goes to Brazil with Tony for ten long days, and Steve nearly loses a thumb to a guy with four arms and three swords, but he doesn't tell her about it. He's fully healed by the time she gets home anyway, which is a good thing, because she texts him as soon as she's back in New York, a little smiley-faced invitation to come over, and practically tackles him at the door.<br \/><br \/>He doesn't even get his jacket off before she's pushed him down onto the couch and opened his pants, and as she leans over to dig a condom out of her bag, he sees she's not wearing any panties under her skirt. She's soaking wet and swollen when he touches her, and she sinks down onto him hard and fast, moaning in his ear that she couldn't wait to see him, couldn't stop thinking about this, and he pants, \"Me, too, Darcy. Me, too,\" and manages to wait until she comes twice before he uses his hands on her hips to hold her down as he thrusts up into her and muffles his cries in her neck.<br \/><br \/>Two days later they have their first real fight, which seems to spring up out of nowhere.  Steve swears one minute they're having a normal conversation and the next they're arguing, about something so pointless he can't believe he's not just letting it drop, but it escalates until Darcy invites him to leave, and that's what finally brings him up short. <br \/><br \/>\"Okay, wait,\" he says, spreading his hands placatingly between them. \"I don't want to fight about this, and I really don't want to leave when we're mad at each other.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Well, I'm not leaving. This is my house!\" Darcy says. Her cheeks are flaming red.<br \/><br \/>\"I meant I don't want either of us to leave,\" he explains, after he takes a deep breath. If there's one thing he's learned so far in his life, it's that every time you walk away from someone, it could be the last time you see them. He's not going to storm out of here while they're both still angry. <br \/><br \/>He doesn't tell her this, because he doesn't want to come across as manipulative. One thing Steve hates is being treated differently or pitied because of the way his life has turned out, both good and bad. What he says is, \"I don't even know why we're fighting about this.\"<br \/><br \/>She glares at the television, which isn't on, and chews on her lip. \"I don't either,\" she admits grudgingly. \"I guess.\"<br \/><br \/>He spreads his arms. \"Let's hug it out,\" he says, which is what Tony uses to get hugs even when no one is arguing with him, and that dispels about half the tension in the room right there, because she cracks up.<br \/><br \/>\"Seriously, don't say stuff like that,\" she says, shaking her head as she walks into his open arms. \"I can't handle you talking like Tony.\" But she grabs on tight anyway, and he folds himself around her as thoroughly as he can.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm sorry,\" he says against the top of her head, and he doesn't mean for talking like Tony.<br \/><br \/>She gets it. She gives him a squeeze. \"Me, too.\"<br \/><br \/>\"You should have seen him today,\" Steve tells her when it becomes clear they're going to be standing here hugging a little longer. Tony is a safe subject right now. \"Someone put an 'Intel Inside' sticker on the back of the suit while we were waiting for the police to get the perimeter set up.\" Even Steve knows Tony considers this a grave insult.<br \/><br \/>\"Oh my God,\" Darcy says, sounding awed. \"Did you get a picture?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Clint did,\" he assures her. <br \/><br \/>She lets go of him long enough to do a double fist-pump. \"That's totally going on the Twitter account!\" she crows. \"I bet it makes Boing Boing, too!\" Darcy gets a five thousand dollar bonus every time Tony gets mentioned on Boing Boing. Steve's been to that website and it seems like a lot of stuff about bananas and zombies, but Tony thinks it's a big deal.<br \/><br \/>He grins at her, relieved the fight's over, and also just naturally pleased to see her so happy about something; Darcy's enthusiasm tends to be contagious, especially where Steve's concerned. She grabs him by the hand and tugs him over to the couch, which is another good sign. Her cheeks are still red, but now it's from excitement, and probably the warmth generated by imagining what she'll do with five thousand dollars.<br \/><br \/>\"So, are we cool?\" Steve asks, after they get settled and exchange a few kisses, just to make her cover her face and laugh. It works.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>\"Hey, are you coming over tonight?\" Darcy asks Steve as she bounces in a circle around him. She's convinced him to jump on the trampoline with her while she waits for Natasha to finish cleaning up and get downstairs. Natasha's teaching her how to do a backflip in the air; she's already mastered the somersault.<br \/><br \/>Thor and Bruce are likely crashed out in their rooms, and Tony has already climbed into his helicopter and left for a conference in Seattle, much to Darcy's obvious relief. Natasha got held up at SHIELD with a couple necessary stitches, which is how Steve beat her home. <br \/><br \/>\"Absolutely,\" Steve says. It's become a more or less regular weekend thing now, or as regular as it can be when he's an Avenger and she works for Tony Stark. But Saturday has sort of become their night, if they're both available. He looks forward to it all week.<br \/><br \/>\"Good, because we're leaving on Monday, and I need to get my fix,\" she says, giving him the little teasing smirk that makes his whole body feel hot. She's going to China with Tony and Pepper for two weeks, on some combination of business trip and vacation. She's been looking forward to it for months. <br \/><br \/>Darcy doesn't travel with Tony every time he goes somewhere, but when she does it tends to alternate between being a complete blast and a constant heart attack, from what she describes. She seems to like it anyway, and loves telling Steve all about it, complete with what has become a spot-on Tony impression. Steve actually enjoys these insights into Tony's life, which oftentimes is even more absurd than Steve realized. Rich guys are weird.<br \/><br \/>\"I think we should get tacos,\" she says, bouncing so high he's looking at her knees. \"And a giant basket of tortilla chips.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Uh huh,\" Steve says, distracted. It's really hard to not look at her shirt when they do this. He can feel himself starting to respond to her already, which is pretty normal, but right now that response is being accelerated by thoughts of seeing her later. Specifically, of what he wants to <i>do<\/i> later. He recently confessed to his fondness for watching her touch herself, and she's been extremely accommodating in that regard.<br \/><br \/>He's a little shocked, sometimes, by the sex. Before Darcy, he'd spent a lot of time imagining sex in general, but he never pictured it being as fast and hard as it sometimes gets, certainly never imagined the things she says-the things <i>he<\/i> says-or how good it would feel to just forget everything and thrust into her over and over, let his body do what it wants. <br \/><br \/>But he also didn't expect it to sometimes be slow and almost lazy, when he feels like he could keep moving inside her forever, and he makes her clench around him again and again, as many times as he can. Or expect her to tease him with her mouth or her hands, until he's shaking and desperate. Once she even made him say, \"Please,\" which he did, over and over again, until he spilled over her fingers and onto his own stomach. He hadn't expected that at all.<br \/><br \/>He's not sure how long they're going to continue to be fuddies, but he thinks he could keep doing it for a long time yet. He loves the way she looks, the way she tastes, all the different noises she makes, which he's learned to differentiate as time goes on. When he doesn't see her for days at a time he wants her so badly he can barely think of anything else. Sometimes it's a little frightening, how much power this thing with her has over him, and how much he needs it. <br \/><br \/>He smiles at her as she bounces on the trampoline in the afternoon sunlight, hair wild, laughing as she flings her arms over her head, and it almost feels like he didn't watch someone else's blood swirl down the drain in the shower less than an hour ago. He's so grateful for that, he wouldn't even begin to know how to tell her.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>Winter comes, and she wears the ladybug scarf. They go ice skating, and to see the Rockettes, which they both love. When the sun shines and the air is brittle, they go window shopping and drink hot chocolate, and he wishes he could hold her hand, and squeeze her fingers through her thick red mittens, but doesn't dare try. He's happy with what he has, he really is. He's happy with what they agreed on, even if it's not perfect. Nothing ever is. <br \/><br \/>There's a holiday party at the house, just for the group, and everyone exchanges presents. Steve gives Darcy a pair of sapphire earrings, and a coin purse shaped like a monkey's face. She gives him a beautiful book about the Louvre--seven hundred pages in all--full of some of the most gorgeous reproductions he's ever seen. Everyone exchanges gifts that night, and Tony's are preposterously extravagant-a few people get <i>cars<\/i>-so their gifts to each other don't stand out at all. <br \/><br \/>The next night, they go to an official holiday ball, for a charity that's a pet project of Bruce's. Before they leave the house, Steve gives Darcy the second part of her Christmas present, which is a necklace that matches the sapphire earrings. Her dress is a pale, icy blue, nearly white, and the jewelry is perfect with it. She looks like a sliver of winter itself, except when she smiles and the warmth of it isn't wintery at all.<br \/><br \/>The ball feels like it has an even bigger crowd than usual, and for some reason Steve's finding his tolerance for the dog and pony show is wearing thin. When he's reached his limit, he smoothly guides Darcy out of the ballroom and they go for a walk in the atrium, which is deserted. It's full of tropical flowers and fruit trees, welcome in the middle of winter. There's also a small waterfall, but it reeks of chlorine, which kind of ruins the illusion of being in a rainforest.<br \/><br \/>They sit down at a small bench by the waterfall and she scoots under his arm. This technically breaks the \"no public displays of affection\" rule, but there's no one else here to see.<br \/><br \/>\"Are you okay?\" she asks him. He can feel her eyes on him, and gives her a reassuring smile. She reaches up to where his hand is cupping her bare shoulder and threads her fingers through his.<br \/><br \/>\"I will be. I'm just a little tired, I guess. And I never know what to say to people at these things,\" he confesses.<br \/><br \/>She does an almost comical double-take that makes him stifle a laugh. \"Really?\"<br \/><br \/>He's surprised she's surprised.  \"Yes, really.\" He supposes he should be glad his discomfort isn't obvious, even to someone who knows him as well as Darcy does. He's gotten good at pretending.<br \/><br \/>\"I would never have known,\" she admits. \"You always seem so\u2026I don't know. Confident. Like you always know exactly what to do. And it's not like you have to impress anyone, anyway. People love you.\"<br \/><br \/>\"People love Captain America,\" he says with a little laugh. \"They don't even know me.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I know you,\" she says, leaning in a little closer. She bumps her nose against his. \"And I-\" Steve heart feels like it just flat out stops \"-like you plenty.\"<br \/><br \/>It's close enough, Steve tells himself as he smiles and kisses her on the cheek and tells her he likes her, too. Close enough.<br \/><br \/>Continued <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/839536.html\" target=\"_blank\">here.<\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:839536","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/839536.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=839536"}}],"title":"FIC: Rule Number Nine (Avengers) Darcy Lewis\/Steve Rogers (Explicit) 3\/3","published":"2012-11-09T19:02:36Z","updated":"2013-02-12T19:56:45Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"fanfiction: darcy lewis\/steve rogers"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"avengers"}}],"content":"<a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/839949.html\" target=\"_blank\">Part One<\/a>  ||   <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/839845.html\" target=\"_blank\">Part Two<\/a>  ||   <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/839536.html\" target=\"_blank\">Part Three<\/a> <br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/>Steve hears the sigh as he walks past the rec room, because it's hard to miss a Hulk-sized sigh. He backtracks enough to stick his head in the door, and sees Hulk hunched on the couch, chin propped on his hands. As Steve watches, he sighs again.<br \/><br \/>A quick check of his watch confirms it's been over four hours since they got home from their last mission, which is on the outside of Bruce's reversion period. Every once in a while he gets stuck, usually because something is bothering him. So far he's always come out of it within a day or two, and no one really worries about it much, because he isn't a danger to anyone anymore. Hulk loves everyone in the house now. Maybe a little too much sometimes, as Clint's ribs can attest.<br \/><br \/>Steve's just about to say something, ask what's wrong, when Tony and Darcy come around the corner. Tony's waving his hands around and rambling nonsense that probably makes some kind of sense if you can parse it, while Darcy follows along behind him, carefully out of accidental poking range. Her arms are loaded down with bound reports and file folders, and she's flicking through something on her tablet and saying things like, \"Right, got it. Uh huh. Whatever you say, Tony.\"  She always sounds a little like she's mocking Tony when she does that, but he doesn't seem to care.<br \/><br \/>As they pass the doorway Tony raises an eyebrow at Steve, then sees Hulk and stops short. Darcy, focused on her tablet, walks right into his back. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey, a little warning next time!\" Darcy says, glaring at him as she straightens her glasses. <br \/><br \/>Tony pays no attention to her. \"What's going on?\" he asks Steve as he takes in the scene in the rec room. \"Someone let him watch <i>Lilo & Stitch<\/i> again?\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm not sure,\" Steve says. \"I just found him.\" Hulk sighs again.<br \/><br \/>Darcy peeks around Tony's shoulder and says, \"Oh, poor thing,\" which isn't something a lot of people say about Hulk. She brushes past Steve and Tony, and heads straight for the couch. It's the special reinforced one, the only one Hulk can sit on. She pauses to carefully set everything in her arms, plus her phone, down on a nearby table, because they've all learned Hulk can break things without meaning to, and that'll only make him feel worse. <br \/><br \/>Expensive electronics safely stashed, Darcy sits down next to Hulk, looking hilariously tiny in comparison, and asks, \"What's the matter, big guy?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Hulk sad,\" Hulk says glumly, as if that weren't already obvious. <br \/><br \/>\"Sir, Director Fury is on the line for you,\" Jarvis says suddenly, startling the crap out of Steve. He loves Jarvis, he really does, but he's starting to think Jarvis enjoys making him jump. <br \/><br \/>Tony pulls his phone out of his pocket. \"Darce, come see me when the therapy session is over,\" he says, and then walks away, phone to his ear.<br \/><br \/>Steve's not sure if he should stay or go, but Darcy meets his eyes and tips her head to let him know he should come in, so he walks over and squeezes into what little space is left on Hulk's other side. <br \/><br \/>\"You wanna talk about it?\" Darcy asks Hulk. Sometimes he needs a little coaxing to fess up to what's bugging him.  <br \/><br \/>\"Hulk not a freak,\" he says, and opens one hand. In the center of his big green palm is a jagged rock the size of an egg.<br \/><br \/>\"Oh, boy,\" Steve says, ashamed that he didn't realize. <br \/><br \/>Darcy leans forward, craning her neck so she can see Steve around Hulk's massive bulk. \"What is that?\" she asks him.<br \/><br \/>Steve feels a little ill. \"Some people threw things at him today, as we were leaving. They said some things, too.\"<br \/><br \/>Hulk had handled it well, actually, simply snarling as he turned away. The rest of the Avengers hadn't been so sanguine. Thor had given the guys-a group of Long Island smartasses-the most regal scolding of their lives while Clint, Steve, and Tony stood behind him and glared. Natasha hadn't said anything, but had unnerved them all by perching on Hulk's shoulder and staring fixedly at them as she reloaded her guns.  <br \/><br \/>Once the tongue-lashing was over and the smartasses had skulked away, Steve hadn't given it another thought. He sometimes forgets that Hulk's a lot more vulnerable on the inside than he is on the outside. Just like the rest of the Avengers.<br \/><br \/>Steve gives Darcy an abbreviated version of what happened, not wanting either himself or Hulk to relive it. The look on Darcy's face accurately reflects what Steve had felt at the time. She's upset and angry. \"Why would they do that? He was <i>helping.<\/i>\"<br \/><br \/>\"They were just...being jerks,\" he says, which is the simplest answer. It's a universal constant, and he of all people knows this. \"They're just jerks, Hulk. They aren't half as brave as you are.\"<br \/><br \/>Darcy picks up the thread immediately. \"That's right. They probably don't help people like you do. And they definitely don't get to live in a house with a bunch of awesome people like Steve and Thor, right?\" She reaches up and ruffles his hair, and Hulk dips his head toward her and closes his eyes, like a dog getting its ears scratched. Steve thinks it's one of the sweetest things he's ever seen.<br \/><br \/>\"Hulk have friends,\" Hulk rumbles as he loops an arm around Darcy and pulls her into a hug. She nearly disappears into his arms. Steve hopes she can breathe.<br \/><br \/>\"That's right, we're all friends,\" Steve says, and the next thing he knows, he's being pulled into a hug, too, and squished against Hulk's massive chest next to Darcy. Her glasses are crooked again, and her face is pink with laughter and maybe from being squeezed a little too hard. She's the best, and Steve adores her so much right then he can barely stand it.<br \/><br \/>Hulk mashes them together a little more, and Steve risks a quick kiss, their first one in the house since the night they agreed to be fuddies, but there's no one to see them here, safe and hidden in Hulk's arms. She kisses him back, and grins against his mouth, and then maybe it's more than just one kiss. Hulk's making a pleased rumbling sound that tickles as it vibrates through Steve's whole body. <br \/><br \/>\"Okay, you think you can let go now?\" Steve asks after another minute ticks by. Hulk's hugs are kind of sweaty.<br \/><br \/>When Hulk lets them go, Darcy and Steve are both a mess, and Steve thinks his cheeks are probably as red as Darcy's, and not just from being squeezed by Hulk. He tries to pat his hair back down and straighten his clothes as Darcy fixes her glasses. Hulk is still holding the rock.<br \/><br \/>\"You know what?\" Darcy says, after appearing to consider their options. \"I bet Clint's fish would love that rock.\" Clint has an enormous three hundred gallon fish tank in his room, full of plants and miniature Easter Island heads and a little diving man that actually swims around. It has a single goldfish in it, named Clementine.<br \/><br \/>Hulk's face lights up at the suggestion. He <i>loves<\/i> Clementine. \"Hulk give rock to Clementine,\" he says, and heaves himself up off the couch and lumbers out of the room while Steve's still trying to tuck his shirt back into his pants; at least it didn't get torn this time.<br \/><br \/>Clint is shirtless and toweling his hair when he opens his door. As Steve explains the point of their visit-Clint's eyes narrow briefly when he's reminded of what happened earlier-it dawns on him that he's standing there obviously just out of the shower, but the shower is still running. Then Steve notices the bed is unmade, and a pair of boots he recognizes as Natasha's are part of the pile of clothing on the floor. And that purple bra probably isn't Clint's either.<br \/><br \/>\"Actually\u2026we can come back,\" Steve says, but Clint starts shaking his head before Steve even gets all the words out.<br \/><br \/>\"C'mon in, buddy,\" he says to Hulk. \"I was just thinking Clementine needed something new to look at.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Are you sure?\" Steve asks, as Hulk nearly flattens him against the doorframe as he pushes past him into the room. Clint doesn't bother to answer, which isn't a surprise. Once Clint's stated his opinion, he doesn't waste time reiterating it. He just stands back and motions Steve and Darcy in, too. So they all tromp into Clint's room and gather around the tank just as the shower stops.<br \/><br \/>\"Hang on,\" Clint says, as he digs some clothing out a drawer. He opens the bathroom door for a second and tosses the clothes in, then tugs a T-shirt over his head as he joins them at the fish tank. \"She'll be out in a minute,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>Steve just nods, embarrassed they interrupted them during a private moment, but also a little jealous. Clint and Natasha can be together right here in the house, and they don't have to hide what they're doing. Steve very carefully does not look at Darcy, afraid his face will give too much away.<br \/><br \/>They stand around admiring Clementine's many decorations until Natasha joins them at the tank, fully dressed, hair wet. Darcy gives her an abbreviated version of the reason for their visit. Natasha, who has the softest of all the soft spots in the house for Hulk, loops her arm around one of his big green ones and leans against it as Clint opens the top of the tank.<br \/><br \/>Hulk pokes at the diving man for a bit, his favorite thing in the tank after Clementine himself, and then they all watch in respectful silence as Hulk gently and solemnly drops the rock into the tank. It sends up a tiny cloud of sand when it lands. Clementine swims over almost immediately to investigate, which pleases Hulk to no end.<br \/><br \/>Everyone admires the rock for a bit, and also Clementine's intelligence, as explained to them by Clint. Eventually Clementine loses interest and swims away, disappearing into the maze of plants and other adornments in his tank.<br \/><br \/>\"Okay, everyone!\" Steve says, clapping his hands together. \"Time to give Clint his room back.\" He hasn't forgotten they interrupted him and Natasha.<br \/><br \/>Darcy gives Hulk what would be a shoulder bump but is more of a shoulder-to-elbow bump on the big guy. Steve wonders if he even feels it. \"Hey, you need some ice cream?\" she asks, bumping him again.<br \/><br \/>That breaks Hulk's Clementine watching-induced trance. \"Ice cream,\" Hulk rumbles, sounding pleased, and he's out the door and gone. Once Hulk decides he's going to do something, he does it. Steve and Darcy hurry to catch up, because leaving Hulk alone in the kitchen is never a good idea. He once ate an entire restaurant-sized jar of Greek olives. <br \/><br \/>\"I could use some ice cream, too,\" Natasha says, and Clint starts hunting around for his shoes, so it looks like everyone's having some. <br \/><br \/>After a quick trip to the kitchen they return to the rec room, where Hulk takes his usual place on the Hulk couch. Clint slouches into a big recliner with his ice cream sandwich already starting to drip down his fingers, and Natasha sits on the arm of the chair with her feet tucked between his legs, relaxed and easy with each other. Clint says something that makes her laugh, and she feeds him a spoonful of whatever ice cream is in her bowl, something chocolately.<br \/><br \/>It's skirting the edges of rule-breaking, but Steve sits next to Darcy, taking advantage of the fact that Hulk occupies most of the couch and they're kind of squished together. She doesn't seem to mind, and even flings one leg over his knee and starts swinging her foot as they eat and talk. This is a first, either of them displaying this much closeness and familiarity in front of other people.<br \/><br \/>It lasts a few happy minutes before Darcy's phone crows at her from the table. She hands Steve her empty bowl and gets up to check it, then gathers up her files and her tablet. Tony must need something, Steve realizes, and then remembers this is actually a work day for her. She probably had all kinds of stuff piling up while she was doing this; Steve's seen her email inbox and it's frightening. But she took the time to do this anyway, because Hulk was upset. <br \/><br \/>Next to Steve, Hulk is now humming happily as he slowly works his way through a gallon carton of strawberry with a wooden mixing spoon. He's actually a very fastidious eater. <br \/><br \/>\"I gotta run,\" Darcy says, sounding apologetic. \"We have to go over this week's lawsuits.\" One of the more surprising things Steve has learned about Tony is that at any given time he is being sued by half a dozen people who claim he stole their ideas. So far no one has been able to prove that's true. It's doesn't seem to bother Tony very much.<br \/><br \/>\"Hey, thanks for hanging out,\" Clint says, as Natasha nods, mouth full of ice cream. \"And taking care of stuff,\" he adds, glancing over at Hulk.<br \/><br \/>\"No problem,\" Darcy says. She pauses on her way out to give Hulk a one-armed hug. He doesn't stop eating, but does tip his cheek down for a kiss, as Steve sits there next to him, trying not to feel envious.<br \/><br \/>\"You feel better?\" Steve asks him, as Darcy walks away, though the answer is obvious.<br \/><br \/>Hulk nods as he licks the back of the spoon. His taste buds are really dark green, Steve notices. \"Darcy make Hulk feel better.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah,\" Steve agrees, as Darcy looks back over her shoulder and gives them all a little wave before she's gone.  \"Me, too.\"<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>Tony and Pepper are out of town, vacationing someplace warm, but Pepper sends him a text that says, <i><b>Darcy is sick please check on her if you can<\/b><\/i>, so Steve sends Darcy a text, and then a few hours later sends another one when he gets no response. Another hour later, despite the fact that he's spent most of it staring at his phone and willing it to chirp at him, he still has not received anything from her, which is unheard of when it comes to Darcy. Finally, with rising panic, he calls her.<br \/><br \/>She sounds groggy and miserable when she answers the phone, but agrees to let Steve come over after he reminds her he can't catch whatever she has. While he's getting his jacket, she texts him a request for cold medicine, and also some orange juice. Happy is already waiting with the car when Steve gets downstairs-Pepper texted him, too-and they head into the night full of grim determination. When Pepper says jump, everyone asks how high.<br \/><br \/>Steve nearly buys out the whole drug store, because the array of medicines is overwhelming-shelves and shelves of them-and he's not even sure exactly what Darcy needs. He ends up grabbing a little of everything, and then they stop at his favorite deli for some chicken soup. Three blocks later, he makes Happy stop again, and buys a pint of ice cream, because that seems to be Darcy's cure for everything. Happy drops him off at the curb with orders to call when he's ready to come home.<br \/><br \/>Darcy answers the door with a blanket around her shoulders, bleary-eyed and slouchy, and shuffles back to the couch, leaving him to kick the door closed while trying not to drop anything. Her hair is a tangled mess and she's wearing two different colored socks. Steve wants to cover her whole face with kisses.<br \/><br \/>He puts some soup in a bowl, and then lets her dig through the bag from the drug store, belatedly embarrassed by how many things he bought. She laughs a little, though, which he's glad to see, even if it leads to coughing. After she drinks some Nyquil and eats some soup, she nestles in the crook of his arm and lets him push her hair back, kiss her hot forehead. <br \/><br \/>She dozes off after a while, and Steve gently eases down onto his back so he can settle her on his chest. He's not sure if he's comforting her or taking advantage, but he can't seem to make himself stop, so he gives into the temptation and holds onto her and thinks thoughts he's definitely not supposed to think, until he sleeps, too.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>The next morning, Darcy doesn't say anything about the fact that Steve spent the night, but that may be because she feels even worse. He intends to spend the whole day doting on her, but he gets a summons from Fury and has to leave in a rush and spend a few hours rescuing some hostages from a group of very bad people who are all named after snakes. <br \/><br \/>That evening, he goes back to Darcy's with some more soup, plus a change of clothes and his toothbrush, just in case. He feels a little guilty about it-that's two rules broken now-but he'd be foolish to not take the opportunity to stay over again if she wants him to.<br \/><br \/>It does not go at all like the previous day. Darcy is surly and cross and does not want to be cuddled at all, and Steve can't seem to do anything right. He almost gives up and goes home so she can get some rest without him in the way, but when he suggests it she gets even surlier, so they watch a movie instead and Steve tries not to say anything that will get him in trouble.<br \/><br \/>Eventually, she inches over to sit next to him, and he cautiously puts his arm around her, holding his breath until she snuggles against him. She doesn't feel as feverish anymore, but she's clearly still miserable.<br \/><br \/>\"You don't have to do all this, you know,\" she says, just when Steve is starting to wonder if she's fallen asleep. \"It's not like you're my boyfriend.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I know,\" Steve says quickly, though his lungs feel so pinched he can barely draw breath to speak. When she finally does fall asleep, he carefully slips away from her and takes her forgotten soup back to the kitchen. He keeps his back to her while he rinses out the bowl, so he doesn't have to see her curled up on the couch, his to touch but not to have. He knows he isn't her boyfriend, never forgets it for a second, and he's not sure how much longer he can stand it.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>Steve knows there's really only one really obvious choice for whom to go to with questions about sexual relationships, casual and otherwise, so he prepares himself to talk to the expert. <br \/><br \/>Tony is in his shop welding something when Steve finally works up the nerve to approach him. He waits out of the range of the sparks until Tony notices him and lifts the torch away. \"I need to ask you something. Uh, confidentially,\" Steve says.<br \/><br \/>Tony takes one look at Steve's face and says, \"Sure.\" He kills the torch and slides his goggles up onto the top of his head. He waits patiently-<i>extremely patiently<\/i>, for Tony-while Steve clears his throat and gathers his courage.<br \/><br \/>If Steve were wearing a tie, he'd tug on it, but he isn't, so he looks at the floor and scratches the back of his neck instead. \"So I was wondering about-well, is it possible to go from being fuckbuddies with someone to being, you know, in a relationship?\" He still hates that word, but he isn't sure Tony will know what a fuddy is, so he has no choice. He finally looks up at Tony, who doesn't seem surprised by the question at all. \"Does that ever work?\" <br \/><br \/>Tony crosses his arms and squints at Steve. \"Is this about Darcy?\"<br \/><br \/>Steve has a moment of absolute horror and panic, and only barely manages to not immediately deny it all and flee back upstairs. A third rule, smashed to pieces. None of their friends are supposed to know. \"How do you know about Darcy?\" he asks instead.<br \/><br \/>Tony snags a stool with his foot and rolls it over so he can sit on it. \"Who else could it be?\" he asks as he picks up an incomprehensible tangle of wires and goes to work on it with a pair of pliers. \"I can't imagine you being anyone's fuckbuddy at all, really, so it would have to be someone you've known for a while, because you're one of those sensitive nice guy types-which some women love, so don't feel bad about that-and I know it's not Pepper or Jane or Betty, so that leaves Natasha or Darcy. If it were Natasha, you'd probably be limping a lot, even with the super healing thing, plus it looks like she and Clint are back on again. And you've been paying a lot of attention to Darcy lately.\" He frowns at the wires. \"Who, by the way is my employee, so I hope you're not fucking her on my time.\"<br \/><br \/>Steve doesn't even know where to start with all that, so he addresses the most offensive part first. \"We never did <i>anything<\/i> while she was work-\"<br \/><br \/>\"I was joking,\" Tony says, grinning at him before he goes back to fiddling with his wires. \"You know how many assistants I've fucked on company time? My own and everyone else's?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Uh, no,\" Steve says. \"But a lot, I guess?\" He wishes Tony would quit saying \"fuck.\"<br \/><br \/>\"<i>A lot<\/i>,\" Tony says, looking pleased with himself. <br \/><br \/>\"Okay,\" Steve says, not very comfortable with the turn this conversation has taken. He really just needed some advice.<br \/><br \/>\"Anyway,\" Tony says, giving up on the wires. He spins on the stool to face Steve. \"To answer your question, yes it can be done. I've never done it myself, mostly because I've never wanted to, but it's not impossible.\" Steve is momentarily encouraged by this, until Tony continues, \"The problem is, if you bring it up and she says no, then you've screwed yourself, because if she's not interested, she'll probably break it off once she knows you're getting in a little too deep. So you run the risk of ending up with nothing.\"<br \/><br \/>Having nothing sounds even worse than having what they have now, despite how bittersweet it's turned out to be. Steve tries not to let on that the answer isn't what he wanted to hear. He just thanks Tony, who nods and says, \"Anytime.\" He's back to his welding before Steve even gets up the stairs.<br \/><br \/>By the time he makes it back to his room, Steve's decided not to do anything rash, to take some time and think about it for a while. He won't stall around. He'll just give it some thought before making a decision. <br \/><br \/>So that's what he does. For two more months.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>\"I'm thinking you should let me buy you dinner,\" Darcy says, leaning against the door in the gym. She's got what Steve knows is a Stark corporate credit card held up between two fingers. This usually means she's had a particularly trying day and either Tony or Pepper told her to go out and spend some money on herself. \"Someplace <i>expensive.<\/i>\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'd be glad to,\" Steve puffs out, doing one last chin-up before he drops back down to the floor, arms burning. He gingerly flexes his fingers, which don't want to uncurl right away. He was up there a long time. <br \/><br \/>\"Good, because I need a martini the size of your biceps,\" she tells him, as her eyes travel appreciatively up and down his body. <br \/><br \/>\"That's a pretty big martini,\" he says, giving her a sly sideways glance as he grabs his towel and wipes his face. Flirty banter is actually not that hard when you really like the person you're bantering with, he's found. They're lucky his shirt is soaked with sweat, or he'd be tempted to kiss her right here in the house, and that would be against the rules.<br \/><br \/>Jarvis has a car waiting by the time Steve's showered and dressed. They walk out to the curb with a perfect two feet of distance between them, but as soon as the car door closes behind Steve, Darcy slides over and under his waiting arm. Her hand rests on his thigh as the car pulls out into traffic. The windows are blacked out, and the divider between them and the driver is up. They have a modicum of privacy here.<br \/><br \/>\"That bad?\" he asks, once they've pulled out into traffic and are crawling toward the restaurant. He knows there was a press conference today for Tony's company, which is why Darcy is dressed all in black; it's what she does when she has to deal with a lot of reporters. Steve doesn't think it makes her look particularly intimidating, but that's maybe because he knows her too well. Her hair is twisted into a knot on top of her head and she's wearing tall leather boots. Steve really likes the boots.<br \/><br \/>\"He told the entire press conference about the nanotech,\" she says, leaning her head back on his arm and closing her eyes. \"Even though he swore he wouldn't. But I knew he would, so I had the handouts with the specs ready.\" <br \/><br \/>This isn't surprising news--Tony is impulsive and prone to making big promises and saying things he's not supposed to say. But it's hard to hold it against him, because he almost always delivers on his promises, and the press loves his theatrics. And Darcy has learned to be ready for anything, like she was today. Steve never gets tired of hearing about Darcy outwitting him.<br \/><br \/>\"You're the perfect antidote to sixteen hours with Tony,\" she says, squeezing his leg. She's wearing her ladybug bracelet, a matching piece to that first necklace he bought her. He got the bracelet for her when they went to a big fundraiser for Citymeals-on-Wheels.<br \/><br \/>\"Am I?\" Steve asks, amused. \"Does that mean I'm boring?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Captain Rogers, you are far from boring,\" she replies, a little flirty, and Steve flashes back to the last time he was at her place, a little mini movie whizzing quickly across his brain before he makes himself pay attention again. \"And you're way less high-maintenance, too.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I would hope so,\" Steve laughs. Everyone is less high-maintenance than Tony, except maybe newborn infants. Tony expects the world-and his world in particular, which includes his company, Iron Man, and the Avengers-to revolve around him. In all fairness, the world often seems to be happy to do just that. And being around Tony can be invigorating, and Bruce is one of the people who seem to thrive on it, but at a certain point it tips over into exhausting. Darcy has the look of someone who has reached that tipping point.<br \/><br \/>Since he already knows back seats of blacked out cars don't count as public, he tips her face toward him with a finger on her chin and kisses her mouth, gentle and lingering. <br \/><br \/>\"Mmmm. I feel better already,\" she says when he breaks the kiss and nestles her back against his shoulder. \"And I haven't even had a martini yet. And I am definitely only allowed to have one. Hold me to that.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Busy day tomorrow?\" Steve guesses.<br \/><br \/>\"Yes. He has a photo shoot with Pepper for French <i>Vogue<\/i>, then an interview with <i>Men's Health<\/i>. Then he flies to L.A. for the Leno thing.\" Tony's filming some kind of comedic bit with Jay Leno and his cars. Organizing it has been a giant hassle, to hear Darcy tell it. \"The marketing guy had a few questions about the presentation and the choreographer needs to know how many fog machines she needs to work around. But I'll worry about that tomorrow. Tell me about your day.\"<br \/><br \/>Darcy probably doesn't want to talk about work anymore. That's fine with Steve.<br \/><br \/>\"Well, Hulk got tossed into a tanker truck that turned out to be full of honey,\" he tells her.  \"And then a lady's dog started licking him, and he tried to pet it.\" Darcy's already laughing, and he hasn't even gotten to the best part yet. \"When Tony tried to unstick the dog, it bit his suit and broke a tooth, so now Tony has to pay for a dog dentist and Bruce has to speak at the lady's son's preschool graduation ceremony.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Please tell me there are pictures,\" she says. \"<i>Please.<\/i>\"<br \/><br \/>\"Of course,\" he says, and reaches into his pocket for his phone. \"You can probably count on that bonus.\"<br \/><br \/>\"<i>Awesome<\/i>,\" Darcy says, and squeezes his leg again.<br \/><br \/>Steve spends a lot of time doing heroic things that make the world a better place, but nothing makes him feel as good as making Darcy laugh when she's had a rough day.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>The Avengers get another award, and Steve and Darcy go on another Not Date. This time her dress is a deep burgundy color, and Steve buys her a chunky black and silver necklace that costs more than he earned in all of 1943.<br \/><br \/>There's more drinking afterward, as usual, but they go to a dark and noisy bar to do it, because Tony insists. They're dressed way too nicely, and are also the Avengers, so even in a place as jaded as New York they attract some attention when they descend on the booths at the back of the place. Someone orders two entire bottles of tequila, and several trays loaded with teetering haystacks of onion rings, because the food tonight was even worse than usual. Steve gets a beer, because he likes the taste of it with the onion rings. <br \/><br \/>He gets into a conversation about baseball with Agent Coulson, who has a frankly scary level of recall when it comes to baseball stats, and it's pretty interesting. The game really has changed a lot since Steve's time, just like everything else. It isn't until Coulson slips out of the booth and leaves him alone that he notices Darcy is at the bar talking to a guy Steve doesn't know. <br \/><br \/>He's one of those oily Wall Street types with the crispy hair and a Bluetooth permanently stuck in his ear, and he is absolutely hitting on Darcy. As Steve watches, the guy touches her on the shoulder and smiles at her. Darcy smiles back and laughs at something he says. Steve is certain Darcy does not like oily Wall Street types, but he's finding it hard to trust his judgment at the moment.<br \/><br \/>He's already half out of the booth when suddenly Tony's there, face grim, pushing him back down with a firm hand. Without the Iron Man suit, Tony's no match for Steve, and they both know it, but Tony says, \"You're about to make a big mistake,\" and that brings Steve back to reality.<br \/><br \/>He lets Tony shove him back into his seat, and reluctantly slides over a little when Tony flicks a hand at him. The oily guy is still talking to Darcy. Tony shoves at Steve's shoulder again, until Steve finally makes enough room for him to sit down, trapping Steve in the booth. <br \/><br \/>Tony sets his drink down, smiles at him as if they're doing nothing but having a friendly conversation, and says, \"Don't look over there.\"<br \/><br \/>It's almost impossible to not look, but Tony taps his finger on the rim of Steve's beer glass and Steve's eyes automatically snap toward the motion. Now all he has to do is not look back over there. He closes his hand around the sweaty glass, fingers clenched so tight they squeak. <br \/><br \/>\"Atta boy,\" Tony says, still smiling. \"Relax. Darcy has better than taste than that.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I know,\" Steve says, but he feels sick inside, like all his guts are squirming around. This is the first time he's been confronted with the worst of what being fuddies means-he has no say in what she does, and he can't even speak up, because he agreed to this, and besides then everyone else might figure out what they're doing, which would break another rule. <br \/><br \/>He hates all the stupid rules, every one of them. She could take some guy home with her any time she wanted, do all the things she's been doing with Steve, and he'd have no right to protest. He'd even have to act like it's okay. It's not okay at all.<br \/><br \/>\"Wow, this is worse than I thought,\" Tony says, looking uncharacteristically concerned. \"You need to do something about this, Rogers. You're going to make yourself crazy.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I know,\" Steve says gloomily, and pushes his beer away. He feels a little more in control now. \"What's happening over there?\" he asks. He feels pathetic, but he can't help himself.<br \/><br \/>Tony casually looks over his shoulder and winks at Pepper, as if that's what he intended to do, and then turns back toward Steve. \"I think she gave him the brush-off. She's talking to Bruce now.\"<br \/><br \/>Steve's relief is immediate, but short-lived, because it's clear he has an even bigger problem on his hands, and it's one he can't avoid any longer. <br \/><br \/>Up until now he's only been partly honest with himself about what he's doing with Darcy and how he feels about her. Seeing someone else express interest in her, and knowing he's powerless to do anything about it, has left him little place to hide from his feelings.<br \/><br \/>And now he can't hide them from Tony, either, so it probably won't be long before he can't hide them from the others, too. And eventually, from Darcy herself. <br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>The next time Steve makes his way to her apartment, it's with a growing sense of dread, but he's determined to quit avoiding the issue. It's time to let Darcy go.<br \/><br \/>He plans to say something to her right away, but instead he kisses her, desperate and sad, and they end up in bed. He moves inside her for a long time, propped up over her on his forearms, cradling her head in his hands so he can kiss her over and over again, breathe in every whispered plea for more. When they're done, he slides down the bed and opens her knees, presses his mouth to the soft skin at the top of her thigh before making his way to the center of her. He's as gentle as possible, knowing how sensitive she is now, slowly coaxing a long, rolling orgasm out of her. <br \/><br \/>He spoons up behind her afterward, and her fingers twine with his where his arm is curled around her waist. \"Mmm. That was nice,\" she says.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, it was,\" he manages to say. He tries not to think about it being the last time. She falls asleep for a while, but he doesn't. He holds her in the dark and wishes things were different.<br \/><br \/>Steve feels her breathing change when she wakes up, and pulls her a little closer, gathering his courage. Before he can get his words in order, she arches her back and rubs the curve of her backside against him in invitation, and his body responds, as it always does, but he knows he has to stop now. He could keep doing this forever: just one last time, and one more last time, and another. That's how two months have already passed. That's how a year has already passed.<br \/><br \/>\"I think it's time to stop doing this,\" he says, mouth moving against the back of her head. He doesn't elaborate. That's one of the rules: either one of them can break it off, no questions asked, at any time. And he'd rather not explain why.<br \/><br \/>\"Sure, no problem,\" she says immediately, her voice light. She's already put a couple of inches of space between them, as soon as he said the words. The hope Steve hadn't even realized he was holding onto evaporates. She's not going to argue with him, or try to change his mind. They're done.<br \/><br \/>She doesn't turn over when he reluctantly pulls away. She doesn't look at him at all, in fact, until they're dressed and standing at her door. There are no goodbye kisses, no pinches, no swats, nothing. He says, \"I'll see you tomorrow,\" and she smiles at him, and says, \"Yep, see you then,\" and closes the door behind him.<br \/><br \/>He walks down the stairs a lot more slowly than usual, finding he has to force himself to take each and every step that leads him away from her apartment forever. It's one of the hardest things he's ever done, lifting his feet one at a time, over and over again. They feel like they're made of lead. It feels like his whole body is made of lead. Mostly his heart.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>He doesn't see her the next day, though, or the day after that. It's cowardly, and he's not proud of it, but he can't make himself talk to her, or even be in the same room with her. It'll get better, he knows, with time. He just needs to wait a bit, let the sting go away a little first. Jarvis makes it easy to avoid her. If anyone notices he's suddenly not around when Darcy is, they don't mention it. Not even Tony mentions it.<br \/><br \/>It's only then, with a lot of extra time and solitude suddenly on his hands, that he faces what a truly crappy situation he's gotten himself into. He and Darcy will have to see each other all the time, plus now he's lost-at least temporarily-his close friend, and the person who went to all the boring functions with him, as well as the sex, and the talks on the couch and the pizza in the kitchen, and someone to touch him with gentle hands when he gets home from fighting people who want to kill him. <br \/><br \/>Now he has nothing, just like Tony predicted, though it's by his own choice. <br \/><br \/>He thinks maybe he made the wrong choice.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>The Avengers have a really awful three days where they're fighting crime all over the place, and getting their butts kicked every time they do it. Tony gets hurt, Natasha gets hurt and won't admit it, Thor actually gets knocked unconscious, and that's just the first day. The bad guys get away, and then there are more bad guys, and then Hulk loses it and runs off into a forest in Vermont and no one can find him for two hours. The last thing that happens is one of the bad guys yanks one of Clint's arrows out of her dead accomplice and stabs Steve through the shoulder with it.<br \/><br \/>After it's all over and the SHIELD docs let him go, Steve drags himself home, feeling dispirited, and hurting a lot more than he's used to; even his accelerated healing can't keep up with the punishment his body has taken the last few days. As he gingerly strips down to his underwear and settles on his bed, he thinks wistfully of Darcy, and how much he misses her, and how much he would love to see her right now. That only seems to make him feel worse.<br \/><br \/>It takes him a long time to get comfortable, because something in his shoulder pulls, no matter which way he positions himself, and he finally ends up lying on his good side and curling his injured arm carefully over his ribs. He's just about to doze off when someone knocks on his door, and he feels unaccountably irritated. Steve's not one for self-pity, but he'd really like to just be alone right now to lick his wounds, both physical and mental. <br \/><br \/>Too exhausted to bother getting up, he calls out for the visitor to come in, dropping his guard just this once. That turns out to be a bad call, because his visitor is Darcy. <i>No drop-ins allowed<\/i>, he thinks immediately, and then wonders if the rules even apply anymore. They probably have a whole new set of rules to follow, and he doesn't even know what they are.<br \/><br \/>He tries to sit up, aware he's nearly naked and they don't do that together anymore, but moving hurts. By then she's already there next to him, sitting down on the bed in the space made by the curve of his body. He eases back down onto the pillow, trying not to grimace too much.<br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" she says softly. She doesn't call him \"handsome.\" Steve's not sure if it's that or simply the familiar sound of her voice that twists his stomach in a knot.<br \/><br \/>\"Hi, Darcy.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I thought you might need some ice cream,\" she says, hefting the bowl in her hands. It has two spoons sticking out of it and smells minty. \"Are you okay?\" Her eyes drift over the bandage looped around his chest and up over shoulder. <br \/><br \/>\"I will be,\" he says. He doesn't even try to smile at her. He can't make himself do it; seeing her is sapping the last reserves of his strength. She looks beautiful, as always, even in a T-shirt with a hole in it and mismatched socks. Maybe especially in those things, because they're what he's seen her wear at home, when it was just the two of them, laughing and cuddling.<br \/><br \/>Neither of them says anything else right away. She looks upset, which seems strange; he's used to her smiling when she's around him. She sets the bowl down on the nightstand and reaches out and pushes his hair back off his forehead, gently smoothing it into place. It's a gesture he recognizes, something she's done dozens of times, but never while looking this sad, and never while he was feeling this awful.<br \/><br \/>He's weak, he knows it, but he can't bring himself to care, or to fight it. As soon as he opens his arms, wincing a little at the pain in his shoulder, she comes down into them without hesitation, gently making a little spoon in front of him. She's careful not to jostle him as she settles her head on the biceps of his good arm. For a moment he has to squeeze his eyes shut and steady his breathing when he feels her against him, familiar and comforting. He needed her and she came. <br \/><br \/>Steve wishes it could be like this always, and wants it now more than ever, so he hides his face in her hair and holds on as tight as he can with his bad arm. He holds on to everything he feels but shouldn't, and everything he wants to say but can't. He's already made a huge mess of this whole thing; he won't make it worse if he can help it.<br \/><br \/>Instead, he says her name, tentatively, through a throat that feels raw and tight, but that's as far as he gets in his intended thanks. Her fingers thread through his, and he feels her soft mouth brush against his knuckles, a gentle kiss, and she says, \"Go to sleep. I'm here,\" and his heart breaks in two.<br \/><br \/>~*~ <br \/><br \/>It's nearly dark when he wakes up, the gray light of dusk filling the room. His shoulder feels a lot better and his bruises look mostly gone. Darcy is still there, clutching his good arm. He lets himself have a few more seconds, pressing his face into her hair and just taking her in; he hadn't realized how much he missed the smell of her. Then he marshals his resolve and makes himself slide his arm out from under her so he can roll onto his back and put some distance between them. He shouldn't have done this, because it will set him back days, maybe weeks, in his efforts to get over her.<br \/><br \/>As soon as he settles onto the bed she turns over to face him, slowly, so as not to bump into him, and carefully puts her arm across his middle, easing closer until she can rest her chin on his chest. His good arm wraps itself back around her shoulders before he can stop himself. <br \/><br \/>Her hair is loose, curling around her neck, down over her shoulder, tickling his bare skin. He's seen her like this plenty of times, but never in his own bed. And never will again, ever, anywhere. He feels unbearably sad.<br \/><br \/>She traces a small circle over his heart with the tip of her finger. \"Why did you break it off?\" she asks, with no warning at all. He's completely unprepared for the question.<br \/><br \/>\"I thought I didn't have to-\" he starts to protest.<br \/><br \/>She presses her finger to his mouth, shushing him. \"I know I'm not supposed to ask, and you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to. But it seems like maybe it's bumming you out a little, so I don't get why you did it.\"<br \/><br \/>This will be the final humiliation, telling her why. The thought is so unpleasant that he's tempted to lie, and he rarely lies about anything, ever. But then he remembers the first time he went to her apartment, when he confessed he'd never been with a woman before. She doesn't judge him, or laugh at him, and never has. She deserves to know the truth.<br \/><br \/>\"I broke one of the rules,\" he admits, with great difficulty. <br \/><br \/>He hopes that answer will suffice, but she tilts her head and chews on her lip for a second, then asks, \"Which one?\"<br \/><br \/>\"The one about-feelings,\" he says. His face feels immovable, expressionless. \"I think I broke it a long time ago,\" he confesses, though he's only recently admitted it to himself. He liked her long before that first Not Date, where he gave her a ladybug and kissed her outside her door. He's probably always liked her more than he should.<br \/><br \/>All this time he's thought agreeing to be fuddies with her was some weird anomaly, some kind of out-of-character, throw-caution-to-the-wind thing on his part. But it wasn't. It wasn't at all. He's wanted more than she wanted to give him this whole time. <br \/><br \/>He'd rather not tell her any of that.<br \/><br \/>\"Come here,\" she says, and cups his cheek with her hand, drawing him closer. She kisses him, a tender little thing, like the first one so long ago. And like that first time, Steve's body just does what it wants. His arm tightens around her and his mouth opens for her. They're not supposed to kiss anymore.<br \/><br \/>When she pulls back, she's smiling at him. He doesn't understand what's happening at all.<br \/><br \/>She bumps her nose against his, and says, \"That's good to know, because I broke that rule, too.\"<br \/><br \/>Steve could swear his heart literally stutters in his chest. She doesn't mean\u2026does she? \"You did?\" he asks. He almost winces at how hopeful he sounds.<br \/><br \/>\"Mmm hmm,\" she says. Her smile's even bigger now. Bright and open, radiating happiness. \"I broke it a lot. It's very, very broken.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Oh, thank God,\" he says, before he can stop himself, pulling her into an awkward, crushing hug. He holds her so tightly his arm starts to shake, and she makes a sound of discomfort. Steve rarely forgets how strong he is, but this has done it. <br \/><br \/>\"Sorry,\" he says immediately, and loosens his grip a little, but not too much. \"I just\u2026\" He doesn't know how to finish that sentence. <br \/><br \/>\"So,\" Darcy says, looking up at him from beneath her eyelashes. \"You wanna be my boyfriend, Captain Rogers?\"<br \/><br \/>He feels how huge his grin is, like his face is going to crack in two, but he can't rein it in even a little bit. \"Yeah, I do,\" he says. \"I really, really do.\" He kisses her again, confident of his welcome this time, and it goes on for a while, until they're both breathing a little heavily.<br \/><br \/>\"It's too bad you're hurt,\" Darcy sighs, when they break apart. \"We could celebrate.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm not that hurt,\" he says immediately. Which is absolutely true. \"You can be on top.\" There's no way she can miss how interested he is in celebrating; he's practically naked.<br \/><br \/>That makes her laugh, and he can't help but laugh, too. He feels so unbelievably happy, and has to pull her in for another kiss before she finally squirms out of reach and hops off the bed. She strips out of her clothes in seconds, then helps him when he struggles to get his underwear off with one hand.<br \/><br \/>\"As long as we're breaking all the rules,\" she says as she hovers over him on all fours, \"we can probably ditch the condoms.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'd like that a lot,\" he says. He knows this is kind of a big deal, and it's something he would probably never have suggested on his own, even though he knows Darcy takes those pills; she told him that when they started. \"If you're sure.\"<br \/><br \/>\"We've been together long enough,\" Darcy shrugs. \"And I haven't been with anyone else. Have you?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Of course not,\" he says, and that's one more nagging worry he didn't want to admit to, gone for good. She wasn't with anyone else while they were fuddies. <br \/><br \/>He props himself up on some pillows so he's almost sitting up, because he wants to be able to reach with his injured arm. She climbs astride his hips and sinks down on him without any preliminaries, and he tightens his arm around her and gasps into her neck when he feels how hot and slick she is inside, the shock of it sending goose bumps scattering down his arms. <br \/><br \/>\"Is this okay?\" she asks as she starts to move, and Steve knows she means his shoulder, but he shivers at the feel of her, so wet, so warm, and can only nod his head and moan. He had no idea it would feel like this, even though he's touched her there before, with his fingers and his tongue. It's so good. So very, very good.<br \/><br \/>After that, it gets fast and intense. Maybe because they've been apart, maybe because they don't have to hide anything from each other anymore. Darcy grabs onto the headboard and <i>rides<\/i> him, and he snaps his hips up to meet her as best he can.<br \/><br \/>It doesn't take long before he hears the helpless little sounds she makes when the end is near. \"God, you feel so good,\" she moans. \"I'm really close.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Me, too. Don't stop,\" he says, urging her a little faster, feeling his orgasm bearing down on him. The next thing she says is his name, a gasping cry as she furiously works herself on him, and he manages to hang on a few more seconds until he's sure she's done, before he lifts his hips one last time and lets himself come. <br \/><br \/>This time he doesn't have to pull out of her and deal with the condom when they're done, so they kiss for little bit while he rubs her with his thumb, lightly tracing a slick circle until they start again. They're in no hurry now, and he watches her ride him slowly, letting it build until her thighs are shaking and the hair at the nape of her neck is damp under his fingers. <br \/><br \/>Steve's not much of a talker, but he can't seem to stop himself now, when she's moving on him so slow and easy. \"I missed you,\" he pants into her shoulder as she rocks gently in his lap. He'd always avoided saying things like that before, afraid of getting too close to the \"no feelings\" rule, but now he can say whatever he wants. \"I missed you so much, and I wanted this for so long, but I thought you didn't.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I missed you, too,\" she murmurs against his ear. \"I wanted this, too.\" He holds her tight and kisses her neck, her nipples, the inviting space between her breasts where he once worked himself until he spilled across the pale skin of her throat. He's greedy to touch her, to put his mouth on her, after thinking he never would again.<br \/><br \/>At the end she's barely moving, grinding down on him, and he's got his fingers dug into the soft swell of her hip, watching her face as she comes apart around him, pulling him with her.<br \/><br \/>He collapses back onto the pillows, which are long since strewn all over the place, and he urges her down onto his chest, shushing her when she starts to protest about his shoulder. He feels fine. He feels <i>fantastic<\/i>. <br \/><br \/>They both groan when she moves enough for him to slide out of her. \"That was <i>great<\/i>,\" she mumbles, flapping a hand weakly against his face. \"We should do that again in a little bit.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I think that's pretty likely,\" he says, laughing. He catches one of her fingers in his teeth and gives it a tug.<br \/><br \/>They cuddle for a few minutes, not saying much, and then take turns in the bathroom. Steve checks his shoulder and finds the wound is closed, so he pulls off the bandage. On his way back to Darcy he has to stop for a second and just look at her, there in his bed. He never thought he'd have this, or a hundred other things he's wanted so desperately. He dives under the blankets with her and gathers her close.<br \/><br \/>\"Stay here tonight. Sleep in my bed,\" he says between kisses. He has plans for her in the morning, things he's been thinking about for months. And tomorrow is pancake day, too. They can walk into the kitchen together and not have to hide anything from anyone.<br \/><br \/>\"Mmmm,\" Darcy hums drowsily into his mouth. \"Definitely planning to sleep here a lot. I'm not letting you get away again.\" <br \/><br \/>\"Me neither,\" Steve says fervently, sliding one of his legs between hers. He's going to buy her all the gifts he wants, and hold her hand when they go for walks, and have all the feelings he wants without hiding them from anyone. The next time they all go to some hoity-toity function, she can sit on his lap when everyone gets drunk on the patio afterward, and he can talk about her with his friends the way Tony talks about Pepper, and Bruce talks about Betty. He can introduce her to everyone as his girlfriend. He can do a thousand little things that his friends take for granted, but are a whole new world to Steve. <br \/><br \/>But right now he has something else he's wanted to do for a very long time. Something he wants her to know, words he's been holding in his heart for months.<br \/><br \/>\"Darcy,\" he says softly. <br \/><br \/>She stirs in his arms and opens her eyes. She's so beautiful. When she touches his face she smiles, and says, \"Hi, handsome.\"<br \/>  <br \/>He leans down and whispers in her ear.<br \/><br \/><b>The End<\/b><br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/><i><b>Darcy's Rules of Being a Fuddy<\/b> <br \/><br \/>1. Always call or text before coming over.<br \/><br \/>2. No public displays of affection.<br \/><br \/>3. Condoms are mandatory.<br \/><br \/>4. No one else can know.<br \/><br \/>5. Never spend the night.<br \/><br \/>6. No holiday gifts.<br \/><br \/>7. Anyone can call it quits at any time, no explanation necessary.<br \/><br \/>8. No feelings.<br \/><br \/>9. In the case of Steve Rogers, none of the above apply. &lt;3 &lt;3<\/i><br \/><br \/><b>Notes:<\/b><br \/><br \/><ul><li>You can see Darcy's shirt <a href=\"http:\/\/www.feistees.com\/soy-sushi-t-shirt\/\" target=\"_blank\">here!<\/a><\/li><br \/><br \/><li>This is the book Darcy gave Steve for Christmas: <a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/Paintings-Louvre-Lawrence-Gowing\/dp\/1556700075\" target=\"_blank\">Paintings in the Louvre by Lawrence Gowing.<\/a><\/li><br \/><br \/><li>Because I wrote 99% of this before the release of the Avengers movie (I started it back in December of 2011!), they live in Avengers Mansion rather than Stark Tower, and Phil Coulson isn't dead and I'm sure there are a million other little inconsistencies, DEAL WIDDIT.<\/li><br \/><br \/><li>The first draft of this story had a scene where Darcy and Steve go to a revival theater to see <i>The Wizard of Oz<\/i>, and he mentions seeing it in the theater when it was first released. When I went to see the Avengers movie I was kicking myself all over the place for not getting this posted before the movie came out, because that would have been pretty damn awesome. I took the reference out of the final draft, since I missed my chance to look like a psychic. :)<\/li><br \/><br \/><li>The &lt;3 confusion came from a co-worker, who once asked me why his daughter kept sending him ice cream cones in her text messages.<\/li><br \/><br \/><li>Yes, Steve does really think Tony is an expert at relationships. Isn't he adorable? (In his defense, as long as he's known Tony, Tony has been with Pepper, so the sample Steve's working from is horribly, horribly skewed.)<\/li><\/ul><br \/><br \/><center>eiirene made <a href=\"http:\/\/eiirene.tumblr.com\/post\/37427511372\/she-loves-the-necklace-and-steve-is-pretty-proud\" target=\"_blank\">a beautiful piece of art<\/a>! (Follow link to see full size in the Tumblr post!)<br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/4c606fba791d34d24b5e8b5391f73aeab76cf25192ca5a6e1ca09ca3d685b518\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkxJHFYVnw088UMMgHvOO-zSvQoergFmaA8:13qBs0nejCkchAzvntrEbw\" fetchpriority=\"high\"><br \/><br \/>[Image Description: Steve and Darcy and the ladybug necklace.]<\/center>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:839324","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/839324.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=839324"}}],"title":"FIC: Love, Like a Sentence of Death (Teen Wolf) Derek Hale\/Stiles Stilinski (Explicit)","published":"2012-11-05T19:59:37Z","updated":"2013-01-01T00:05:14Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"fanfiction: derek hale\/stiles stilinski"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"teen wolf"}}],"content":"Why stop now?<br \/><br \/><b>Title:<\/b> Love, Like a Sentence of Death<br \/><b>Summary:<\/b> \"Derek would like to ignore it and never speak of it again, but that's the exact opposite of how Stiles operates.\" Despite the title there is no death in this story and it does have a happy ending, I promise. <br \/><b>Fandom:<\/b> Teen Wolf<br \/><b>Relationships:<\/b> Derek Hale\/Stiles Stilinski<br \/><b>Rating:<\/b> Explicit <br \/><b>Words:<\/b> ~3,900 <br \/><b>Spoilers:<\/b> General for seasons one and two.<br \/><b>Warnings:<\/b> None come to mind. Stiles is eighteen in this story if that's an issue for you.  <br \/><b>Availability:<\/b> <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/839324.html\" target=\"_blank\">LiveJournal<\/a> || <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/684236.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> || <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/555479\" target=\"_blank\">AO3<\/a> <br \/><b>Podfic:<\/b> <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/617264\" target=\"_blank\">AO3 link<\/a>, read by Jinxy! &lt;3 <br \/><b>Disclaimer:<\/b> Not mine. <br \/><b>Thanks:<\/b> To <span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/girlinthetrilby.dreamwidth.org\/profile\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/c5185b31ad40424a3360f3e79c27f7998a363023d26ead924fa3d8b27f977b7f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT056GQJiv05e0zTaZg1RFEYV0g0o-lRBm3nIevQ:JtlnqPvflLh4ITeazGiv7w\" alt=\"[personal profile] \" width=\"17\" height=\"17\" style=\"vertical-align: text-bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/girlinthetrilby.dreamwidth.org\/\" target=\"_blank\"><b>girlinthetrilby<\/b><\/a><\/span> for looking it over, and to qhuinn for the inspiration. &lt;3<br \/><b>Notes:<\/b> This is for qhuinn, who made a gorgeous gif that prompted me to write this. You can see it at the end of the story or <a href=\"http:\/\/qhuinn.tumblr.com\/post\/27735558775\/let-me-in-where-only-your-thoughts-have-been\" target=\"_blank\">on qhuinn's Tumblr.<\/a> <br \/><b>Transformative Works Policy:<\/b> <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/users\/DevilDoll\/profile\" target=\"_blank\">Can be found here.<\/a><br \/><b>Posted:<\/b> November 5th, 2012<br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><b>Love, Like a Sentence of Death<\/b><br \/><br \/><i>You're a dirty needle<br \/>You're in my blood<br \/>And there's no curing me<br \/>And I want to run<br \/>Like the blood from a wound<br \/>To a place you can't see me  <br \/><br \/>-- <b>Furious Angels by Rob Dougan<\/b><\/i><br \/><br \/>Their first kiss is bloody and ill-timed, too slick and actually kind of disgusting. Derek is covered in cobwebs and asbestos, and can barely move. Stiles is bleeding\u2014too much, from too many places\u2014and there's no one else close enough or conscious enough to know what they're doing. Derek is a chickenshit, or maybe just too smart and cautious to do this any other time, but now he uses his shaking hands to turn Stiles' head, angle his mouth up so he can reach it.<br \/><br \/>It's clumsily done, and even after Derek fixes it on his end he gets the impression Stiles hasn't kissed many people, or maybe none at all. But what he lacks in finesse he makes up for in the way his one good hand grips the collar of Derek's jacket, and the happy, surprised sound in the back of this throat. <br \/><br \/>When they finally break apart, Stiles smiles, a loopy, half-out-of-it grin, as Derek's thumb intercepts a rivulet of blood headed for the corner of his eye.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>Two days after Stiles gets out of the hospital, Derek sneaks in through his window and then has to wait in Stiles' bedroom a long time to talk to him. He waits through dinner\u2014chicken noodle soup--and then through the washing of the dishes and the taking out of the trash. Then he waits some more, idly surfing the Internet on Stiles' computer, while Stiles and his dad watch something sports-related on TV. Finally, he hears Stiles thudding up the stairs, a little more slowly than usual, a hitch in his step that isn't usually there.<br \/><br \/>Stiles freezes when he opens the door and sees Derek standing next to the window. Derek takes in the sight of him and tries not to wince; he has yellowed bruises and old scabs all over his arms and his face, a Frankenstein ladder of a fresh scar on his forehead where someone stitched him up, and his left hand is still intricately splinted and wrapped. <br \/><br \/>\"Hey,\" Stiles says, and then swallows, staring for a second before he remembers to close the door behind him. <br \/><br \/>He takes a step toward Derek, and Derek stiffens. Stiles stops where he is.  <br \/><br \/>\"How are you?\" Derek asks him. They haven't seen each other since Scott and Allison loaded Stiles into her car and drove off for the hospital. Derek's been healed for weeks.<br \/><br \/>\"Um. Good?\" Stiles says, like he's not sure.<br \/><br \/>\"Good,\" Derek says, nodding. <br \/><br \/>Stiles doesn't respond to that, watching Derek like he's waiting for him to say something else, but Derek doesn't. He can't seem to stop looking at Stiles\u2014battered, but upright and walking--and feeling grateful.<br \/><br \/>\"Is that the only reason you came by?\" Stiles asks finally.<br \/><br \/>\"Yes,\" Derek tells him. A lie. <br \/><br \/>The disappointment is naked on Stiles' face. This is harder than Derek thought.<br \/><br \/>\"Are you <i>sure<\/i>?\" Stiles asks, the first flicker of defiance showing through, and Derek feels what he's startled to realize is a jab of genuine fear.<br \/><br \/>He swallows it down. He can handle a kid, even one as ballsy as Stiles. \"Yes. Nothing's changed.\"<br \/><br \/>Stiles isn't cowed. Derek's not sure why he thought he would be, but it seemed like a good idea to come here and show him that things are back to normal. It seemed smart to take care of it in private, instead of in front of everybody else the next time they ran into each other. It seemed like it would be a lot easier. <br \/><br \/>\"I would disagree with that,\" Stiles says, hands on his hips. He has to hold the injured one at a weird angle to make it work. \"A lot. I heartily disagree.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I don't care,\" Derek bites out. Also a lie. <br \/><br \/>Stiles stares at the poster on the wall next to Derek's head, jaw working. The color's rising in his cheeks, his heart suddenly thundering. When Derek opens his mouth to speak, to reiterate his point that <i>nothing<\/i> has changed, Stiles' eyes snap back to him, glittering, furious. He advances on Derek, who only manages to hold his ground because he's already backed up against the wall. <br \/><br \/>Derek holds up a hand, palm out, to stop him. \"Stiles,\" he says, low, a warning.<br \/><br \/>Stiles knocks his hand away. \"Shut up,\" he snaps. The hair on the back of Derek's neck stands on end.  \"This is on you.\" He pokes Derek in the middle of his chest with two fingers, hard. \"You kissed <i>me<\/i>, asshole. <i>You<\/i> did it.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I thought you were <i>dying<\/i>,\" Derek hisses, cornered and desperate.<br \/><br \/>Stiles reels back from him, shaking his head as if to clear it, like Derek's struck him. He walks a circle in the small space between the desk and the bed, and when he turns to look at Derek again his cheeks are still red, angry red, but everything else about him is cold. <br \/><br \/>\"Sorry to disappoint you,\" Stiles says, and the tone of his voice is awful, flat. He walks out of his own room, slamming the door behind him. Derek hears him thump unevenly down the stairs, probably moving too fast for how unsteady he is on his feet. Derek doesn't move, and he hears it all: Stiles telling his dad he's going to Scott's, closing the front door a little too emphatically, getting into his Jeep, driving away. Leaving Derek standing stupidly in his room, hands stuffed in his pockets, feeling like he can't breathe. He can't even fucking breathe.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>Derek would like to ignore it and never speak of it again, but that's the exact opposite of how Stiles operates. A few weeks later, fully healed and pissed as hell, he shows up at Derek's apartment, the one Derek thought no one knew about. <br \/><br \/>Normally, Derek's really good at dealing with someone else's anger, because he understands it, and has plenty of his own to answer with, but as soon as Stiles walks in the door Derek feels like he's at a disadvantage. Maybe because he knows Stiles has every right to be pissed.<br \/><br \/>Derek thinks about offering him a seat, but there's only the bed to sit on, or maybe something to drink, but that might just encourage him to stay, so he stands in the middle of the room, thumb marking his place in his book, and watches Stiles, hands in his pockets, do a slow inspection of the place. It's the first time another person has been here since Derek moved in.<br \/><br \/>The apartment is small and pleasantly cluttered, just one big room with a TV and a futon bed, a galley kitchen, and a bathroom with a big, brand new shower, the best thing about the place. Stiles picks up a random book and looks at the spine, checks the view from the single window, pokes his head in the bathroom and says, \"Awesome shower.\"<br \/><br \/>Stiles can look around as much as he wants. There's nothing here Derek doesn't want him to see, and for once the place is spotlessly clean, because he's been spending a lot of time at home. He hasn't been hiding or anything; he's just been a little unmotivated to go anywhere. <br \/><br \/>But maybe there is something here Derek doesn\u2019t want Stiles to see, because he involuntarily twitches when the toe of Stiles' sneaker comes within inches of the box sticking out from under the bed. It's from Derek's favorite pair of boots, and it's a good box. Heavy black cardboard, with a rope handle on the side. <br \/><br \/>Stiles doesn't miss Derek's reaction. \"Don't worry, dude,\" he says, indifferently nudging the box out of view with his foot. \"I don't even wanna know what kind of kinky shit a guy like you keeps under his bed.\" Derek has nothing to say to that. <br \/><br \/>Derek waits and waits for Stiles to say what he came here to say, but he doesn't seem in a hurry. He wrinkles his nose disapprovingly at Derek's DVD collection, and checks out the contents of the refrigerator, which is mostly lunch meat and strawberries. There's a counter with two creaky stools that divides the kitchen from the main room, and once Stiles has looked at everything there is to look at but Derek, he leans back against it on his elbows and stares at Derek for a long time. <br \/><br \/>\"Listen, it's not going to happen,\" Derek says eventually, because Stiles is just dragging this out and he wants to fight about it already so Stiles will leave. He was going to go get some Chinese food for lunch, and if he waits too long it'll be crowded and he'll get seated in the humid corner by the buffet. \"I'm a lot older than you are, so this is never going to turn into some special teenage romance. I don't want to make out in the back seat of my car, and I'm not taking you to the prom. So just get it out of your head.\"<br \/><br \/>Stiles rolls his eyes and makes a talking mouth motion with his hand, looking profoundly bored with Derek's little speech. \"Prom's over and done, so you're off the hook,\" he says. \"And I was in the hospital for it, anyway.\" <br \/><br \/>It's not accusatory in the slightest, but Derek's got a hair trigger when it comes to guilt. \"Sorry about that,\" he says immediately. \"Were you going to\u2026?\"<br \/><br \/>\"No, I wasn't gonna go,\" Stiles scoffs, visibly irritated by the question when Derek was only trying to be nice. Derek has the weird feeling they've somehow swapped places. Usually he's the one standing around staring and being unreasonable.<br \/><br \/>\"That's not the point, though,\" Derek says, trying to get the conversation back on track. He wonders if it's usually this hard to dump someone you didn't even actually date. <br \/><br \/>\"I know,\" Stiles says. \"Anyway, that was a nice try, but if you think you're going to run me off by being a massive dick, I think we've already established it seems to have the opposite effect on me.\"<br \/><br \/>Derek can't even be offended by this, because every word of it is true. <br \/><br \/>\"So try giving me a real reason,\" Stiles says, rolling one hand in an \"out with it already\" gesture, like he's a game show host awaiting Derek's answer.<br \/><br \/>\"I don't want you to do something you'll regret,\" Derek says, resorting to honesty because nothing else is working. It comes out more gently than he intended, and he's a little embarrassed by that, and even more embarrassed when Stiles starts laughing. <br \/><br \/>\"Oh my God!\" Stiles chokes out. \"Are you serious? Dude, pretty much everything I've done since you and I met has been regrettable,\" he says.<br \/><br \/>Derek makes himself freeze; he's not even going to fucking blink. One of the most aggravating things about Stiles is that he has the ability to carelessly and unwittingly hit Derek where it hurts the most, without even trying. <i>Everything?<\/i><br \/><br \/>He tries to tamp down the anger, because he wants to be reasonable about this. If <i>Stiles<\/i> would just be fucking reasonable and admit Derek is right, everything could go back to normal. Stiles could still be the one bad decision Derek's managed to walk away from. <br \/><br \/>\"This is <i>different<\/i>,\" Derek insists. He can dwell on the \"everything\" comment later. \"You're young and you don't know what you're doing. People do stupid stuff when they're lonely, they make bad decisions. They trust people they shouldn't.\"<br \/><br \/>Stiles' eyebrows twitch up. \"You still don't trust me?\"<br \/><br \/>\"What?\" Derek's brain scrambles to follow. This fucking kid. He just won't <i>listen<\/i>. \"No, I meant <i>you<\/i> shouldn't trust m\u2014\" <br \/><br \/>\"And also,\" Stiles continues, \"you're not really all that young, as you just pointed out.\"<br \/><br \/>\"<i>You're<\/i> the one who's\u2014\"<br \/><br \/>\"Legal now,\" Stiles says. \"And the whole point of this is that you won't be lonely anymore.\" Stiles flips his hands up in a <i>Duh!<\/i> gesture.<br \/><br \/>\"Stop twisting my words!\" Derek yells. He's so frustrated, so fucking frustrated with everything. With how he can't get the upper hand back with Stiles, and he can't stop thinking about him, and he can't forget that stupid kiss. Before he can stop himself, he's whipped his arm back and thrown his book, sending it crashing into the wall next to the door. \"We aren't talking about me!\" <br \/><br \/>Stiles calmly looks at the book, spread brokenly on the floor, pages creased, then back at Derek. \"Are you sure about that?\"<br \/><br \/>Derek doesn't answer. He can't, his chest is heaving; he makes himself breathe slowly in and out through his nose and tries to get control of himself. He stares at the book, forces his shoulders to loosen, his hands to unclench. He has no idea what to say next. Every word just makes things worse anyway.<br \/><br \/>When he looks at Stiles again, Stiles' eyes are fixed on him, calculating. Then he smiles, and Derek thinks, <i>Oh, no.<\/i><br \/><br \/>\"You know what I think?\" Stiles asks, still smiling. \"I think you want it just as much as I do, but you're afraid.\"<br \/><br \/>\"That's bullshit,\" Derek says, but when Stiles steps closer, Derek takes an answering step without really thinking about it, and the bed's right there anyway.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>\"This doesn't mean anything,\" Derek says, that first time, as his hand moves steadily up and down, making Stiles strain into his fist. Stiles' eyes are glazed, unfocused, but they sharpen and narrow like he's about to tell Derek to go to hell, until Derek runs his thumb gently over the wet tip of Stiles' cock, and instead he turns his hot face into Derek's shoulder and moans. <br \/><br \/>He tongues his way down Stiles' chest, past the rapid-fire whoosh of his heartbeat, sucks teasingly at the skin just to the left of his bellybutton as Stiles writhes on the sheets beneath him. The sound Stiles makes when Derek closes his mouth over the head of his cock sounds almost like pain, and there's an answering twinge under Derek's ribs. <br \/><br \/>It doesn't mean anything. If he keeps saying it, Derek might believe it, too.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>A few weeks later, in Derek's bed again, Stiles arches his back and digs his fingers into Derek's ass and says, \"God, yes, fuck me,\" and Derek does it, powerless to deny him. He'll do whatever Stiles asks, as long as he keeps showing up here and eagerly reaching for Derek's belt, smiling soft and small when he wakes up from a post-sex nap and sees Derek's face, shoving Derek's shoulder and telling him to stop being an asshole, like Derek couldn't snap him in half if he wanted to, and sometimes he does still want to, because he's so goddamn infuriating.<br \/><br \/>Stiles seems so harmless most of the time, if you're not paying attention. Young and goofy, a wise-ass kid who bounces through life like it's a video game, ready for the next adventure, and the next. Stiles, with his big puppy paw hands and his funny faces, and the fragile flutter of his pulse in his throat when Derek noses his way under his chin. He's not harmless at all. <br \/><br \/>He gets Derek inside him and talks to him and touches his face, and he extracts all kinds of promises and confessions, cracks Derek open and scoops out every ugly, squirming thought and feeling he'd hoped to hide forever. He knows that Derek thinks about him when he's not there, that he <i>misses<\/i> him.<br \/><br \/>He knows that Derek still has the cheap Spider-Man valentine Stiles gave him last year\u2014gave everyone last year, so it didn't even mean anything\u2014and a crumpled paper fortune from one the few times they ever went out for dinner just the two of them. The fortune says, <i>The person you are waiting for is waiting for you.<\/i> <br \/><br \/>Afterwards, when Derek would rather just curl up and die than admit any of the things he's said are true, Stiles never brings any of it up, or throws it in his face, but Derek sees the way it slowly changes things between them, the way Stiles' growing knowledge of what this is and where he fits and how helpless Derek is to stop any of it slowly shifting the balance of power. Derek doesn't even try to lie to him anymore.<br \/><br \/>\"Stop fighting it,\" Stiles murmurs in his ear once, when Derek's shaking over him, pushing his face into the pillow so Stiles can't see it, but Derek <i>can't<\/i> stop, even though he knows he's only delaying the inevitable. It's a slow, painful surrender, and Derek resists every step of the way, because he doesn't know what else to do. Sometimes Derek hates how fucking persistent Stiles is, and other times he's worried that he'll give up on him.<br \/><br \/>Derek's life has been dominated by one bad choice after another, and he's a pretty shitty judge of people, so it's not really a surprise just how much he's managed to underestimate Stiles.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>It's the last summer before most of the kids leave for college, and the universe has decided to give Derek a break from the endless shit parade that has been his life for so long, and there's literally nothing going on, no threats of any kind. His pack is big now, and stable, which means they're mostly just hanging out and having fun. <br \/><br \/>Derek feels like he can't go anywhere without running into three or four of them, lounging in the big corner booth at the faux-retro diner, or tumbling out of the liquor store, loaded down with bottle-shaped brown paper bags and Pringles. On a Saturday night, a wandering group of two often becomes six, becomes ten, and eventually they're all together somewhere and hopefully nothing gets broken or damaged.<br \/><br \/>\"Hey, there's the big man,\" Boyd says when he saunters into the taqueria, punching Derek in the arm as he walks by. <br \/><br \/>Derek nods in return and slaps his little red basket full of burrito down on the table across from Robbyne, who is older and kind of boring and just happy to finally have a pack of her own after being alone for nearly a decade. She's been loyal and low-maintenance since she joined up, though, which are qualities Derek has learned to appreciate deeply, so he always takes some time to talk to her. Plus, watching Stiles eat can be distressing, and he can't drink out of a straw without looking like he's being attacked by it, so Derek's not going to sit with him. He's at another table with Scott and Erica, and they might be doing animal imitations, or re-enacting a movie. Derek would rather not know.<br \/><br \/>Even when he's making a conscious effort to not focus on Stiles too much, Derek can't ever fully tune him out. He eats his burrito and talks to Robbyne and Draza, the newest of the new guys, always with one ear tracking the rise and fall of Stiles' voice, a background hum of bottled energy that these days is most noticeable when it's absent. <br \/><br \/>\"I\u2019m not buying you guys alcohol,\" he says in the direction of Stiles' table at one point. If Stiles gets caught with booze, the main suspect is going to be Derek. He's not going to budge on this. <br \/><br \/>No one at Stiles' table even looks over at him; they're too busy executing a perfectly synchronized eyeroll. It's not like they can actually be surprised he was listening, or that he said no.<br \/><br \/>\"Ugh,\" Erica says, slouching down in her chair. \"What's the point of having him around if he won't be our cool older friend who buys us beer?\" <br \/><br \/>\"I know, right? Useless!\" Stiles agrees, throwing his arms in the air, as if two hours ago Derek hadn't made him come so hard he banged his head against the wall, back forming a tight, beautiful curve beneath Derek's hands.<br \/><br \/>For a guy who usually seems to have everything going on in his brain not just on his sleeve but written in giant, flashing letters above his head, Stiles never acts any differently toward Derek when they're around other people, even when Derek sometimes wonders what it would be like if he did. He's actually so blas\u00e9 about it that often when Derek looks over at him, dancing a silly dance with Allison, or doing that stupid bro fist thing with Scott, it seems impossible that he's the same Stiles who can, just with his hands and his voice, drag words out of Derek that he never thought he'd say, and then fall asleep nestled against his side like a kitten while Derek stares at the ceiling and tries not to think about how terrified he is.<br \/><br \/>Like the black cardboard box under the bed that holds a Spider-Man valentine and the last postcard he'll ever get from Laura and a dozen other useless things Derek wishes he could bring himself to throw away, he'd rather Stiles just leave him closed tightly and hidden away, and never look at what's inside. But it's too late. Stiles said, a few months ago, that he didn't want to know what was in that box, but now he does know. He knows that, and so much more.<br \/><br \/>Derek doesn't believe for a second they're hiding what they're doing from anyone; he's not delusional. But so far no one has said anything about it, or given them weird looks when they run into Derek and Stiles coming out of The Happy Donut at 2am, balancing two or three donuts on top of their coffee cups, reeking like they spent the bulk of the night screwing each other senseless.<br \/><br \/>None of their friends act like it's a big deal, or like it's an impending disaster, but then they don't really know what's going on, do they? They just think Derek is fucking Stiles. They have no idea what Stiles is doing to Derek.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>\"Tell me this doesn't mean anything,\" Stiles demands, mouth a bare inch above Derek's, fingers tight around his wrists, pressing them into the bed. They both know he can't really hold Derek down, but Derek lets him do it anyway.<br \/><br \/>\"Let me touch you,\" Derek pants. He's so close to coming, and he wants to feel Stiles clench around him while he does it, watch his face when his mouth drops open on a hoarse groan.<br \/><br \/>Stiles lifts up a little and Derek bucks up to follow, desperate to stay inside. \"Say it,\" Stiles again, this time more softly, but just as determined. This is the last inch of ground Derek's yet to give, an ongoing argument. <br \/><br \/>Derek grits his teeth and sits up, tries to kiss him to shut him up, but Stiles hangs onto his shoulders and uses them as leverage to dodge him. Derek's hands clench on his ass, try to hold him down as he chases his mouth. The long muscles in Stiles' thighs flex as he lifts up again, sinks down.<br \/><br \/>\"I need to come,\" Derek shudders out, a last ditch effort, but Stiles is unsympathetic. <br \/><br \/>\"Tell me it doesn't mean anything,\" he says again, not soft at all this time. His hands grab at Derek's head, clutch at his hair, forehead pressed against Derek's as he rides him with aching slowness.<br \/><br \/>\"I can't,\" Derek admits helplessly, finally, words months in the making. It sounds like pleading. \"You know I can't.\"<br \/><br \/>\"It's okay,\" Stiles whispers, hands going gentle as he stills in Derek's lap, and he finally lets Derek hide his face in his neck. \"It's okay. Me neither.\"<br \/><br \/><b>The End<\/b><br \/><br \/><center><br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/d78775606f7d2bd40ec76c63d12aeebeccd9dbf6423faaa60da1b26ccaa23c2f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkxJGEYBmBE17k4agnnBdu6I6xhN:3dVDR_amSklGNU7vDDt7Jg\" fetchpriority=\"high\"><br \/><br \/>Gif by <a href=\"http:\/\/qhuinn.tumblr.com\/post\/27735558775\/let-me-in-where-only-your-thoughts-have-been\" target=\"_blank\">qhuinn<\/a><br \/><br \/><\/center><br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/bf9fb2a303836558a7631057a5e1382e1c9e635fa9a9863f84544681a9d3b7d9\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkxJEkQJkREw-lYAj3HGO-OI40JJ6htxLVDx:v0p9V7IbbvdTrDtxTRyJ4g\" loading=\"lazy\"><br \/><br \/>Podfic read by Jinxy <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/617264\" target=\"_blank\">available here!<\/a><a name='cutid1-end'><\/a><br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/684236.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/ec5e4cbd75cb8997692c8a8e89ed814b2ee2094d202814275d72072d27f9fe93\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW3T8D6FBv:NuZeXT7faLpQRA4jrM5O0w\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:839163","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/839163.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=839163"}}],"title":"FIC: You Were a Kindness When I Was a Stranger (Teen Wolf) Derek Hale\/Stiles Stilinski (Explicit)","published":"2012-11-01T01:26:04Z","updated":"2013-02-12T20:41:30Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"fanfiction: derek hale\/stiles stilinski"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"teen wolf"}}],"content":"Over on my Tumblr, Anonymous wanted a 50 Shades of Grey Sterek AU and I was like WHUT I've never read 50 Shades or written BDSM! There's no way I can do that! <br \/><br \/>HAHAHAHAHAHA.<br \/><br \/><b>Title:<\/b> You Were a Kindness When I Was a Stranger<br \/><b>Summary:<\/b> \"It's not all handcuffs and spankings and learning to deep throat.\"<br \/><b>Fandom:<\/b> Teen Wolf<br \/><b>Pairing:<\/b> Derek Hale\/Stiles Stilinski<br \/><b>Rating:<\/b> Explicit<br \/><b>Words:<\/b> ~8,000 <br \/><b>Spoilers:<\/b> None.<br \/><b>Warnings:<\/b> This is an AU with consensual BDSM sex acts, in which Derek supports Stiles financially in exchange for a sexual relationship. Stiles is of legal age.<br \/><b>Availability:<\/b> <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/\" target=\"_blank\">LiveJournal<\/a> || <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> || <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/551403\" target=\"_blank\">AO3<\/a>  <br \/><b>Disclaimer:<\/b> Not mine. <br \/><b>Notes:<\/b> Another (not so) wee ficlet in celebration of my 10,000th Tumblr post. Anonymous asked for a 50 Shades of Grey Sterek AU. I've never read 50 Shades or written a BDSM story, so consider any mangling of either to be creative license. Titles comes from the song by The National. <br \/><b>Thanks:<\/b> To <span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/girlinthetrilby.dreamwidth.org\/profile\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/c5185b31ad40424a3360f3e79c27f7998a363023d26ead924fa3d8b27f977b7f\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT056GQJiv05e0zTaZg1RFEYV0g0o-lRBm3nIevQ:JtlnqPvflLh4ITeazGiv7w\" alt=\"[personal profile] \" width=\"17\" height=\"17\" style=\"vertical-align: text-bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/girlinthetrilby.dreamwidth.org\/\" target=\"_blank\"><b>girlinthetrilby<\/b><\/a><\/span> for the beta read.<br \/><b>Transformative Works Policy:<\/b> <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/users\/DevilDoll\/profile\" target=\"_blank\">Can be found here.<\/a><br \/><b>Posted:<\/b> October 31st, 2012 (Happy Halloween! Here's some porn!)<br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><b>You Were a Kindness When I Was a Stranger<\/b><br \/><br \/>Derek Hale is about five decades younger than Stiles expects him to be, and about five squillion times more attractive. He's wearing a black suit that matches his black hair, and a red tie that's probably been dyed with the blood of his enemies, and he looks like he wants to kill someone when Stiles is escorted into his office by one of his minions, a guy who's pretty enough to be a model. Hale's eyes zero in on Stiles, who fights the urge to blurt, \"HAHA JUST KIDDING!\" and run all the way back down all fifty floors and never come back. This guy is intense, and he's going to eat Stiles for breakfast. <br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>It goes better than Stiles expects, but since he expects Hale to immediately realize he isn't even actually with the college newspaper and throw him out on his ear, it's a pretty low bar.<br \/><br \/>Hale answers each question thoroughly and thoughtfully, but barely glances at Stiles for the first twenty minutes or so, which Stiles doesn't really mind because it takes a little of the pressure off. Why this guy--one of the most powerful businessmen in the state of California--agreed to be interviewed by a journalism student is a complete mystery. He certainly has more important things to worry about.<br \/><br \/>Several more beautiful minions hover around Hale like languid-eyed accomplices in homicide as Stiles goes through the questions Scott painstakingly typed out for him. They bring Hale fresh glasses of water before the previous one is even empty, and slide things in front of him to sign, which he does only after reading them while still talking to Stiles, which is impressive because Stiles can't even listen to music and play video games at the same time.<br \/><br \/>\"Talk to Boyd,\" Hale says to his minions several times, waving things away. \"Show that to Boyd, let him decide.\" He probably means Vernon Boyd, who is his second-in-command according to Scott's notes, which Stiles barely had time to read before Scott shoved him out the door with his clammy hands and told him not to worry, he'd do fine. Stiles is the bestest friend to ever best friend anyone, that's an undeniable fact, and Scott will owe him--<i>big time<\/i>--for this.<br \/><br \/>When Stiles is getting down to the last few questions, Hale suddenly sits back in his chair, chin propped on one fist, and looks at him. His eyes are some weird color Stiles can't identify from this distance, but they look strangely pale against all the rest of him that's so dark.<br \/><br \/>\"Leave us alone,\" Hale says suddenly and the minions swoop up their papers and their computer tablets and vanish. The door closes behind Stiles with what feels like an ominous thud. <br \/><br \/>Stiles isn't sure what's happening. Maybe he's overstayed his welcome. Maybe Hale's figured out he's an imposter sent here because Scott has a bad habit of not checking expiration dates on things he finds in the fridge. Stiles folds the list of questions in half, then in half again, and tries to look like a professional interviewer person who knows when his time is up. He just barely resists the urge to tug on his tie. \"I'm, uh, pretty much done if you need to--\"<br \/><br \/>\"Turn that off,\" Hale says, eyes flicking to the little recorder sitting on the desk between them, then back to Stiles' face. Stiles feels like he's being sized up for a coffin.<br \/><br \/>\"Sure, absolutely,\" he says, and leans forward to hit the stop button. He's not sure if Hale is about to give him some really juicy info off the record, or berate him for wasting his time. Whatever he's about to say, he doesn't want it on the recording with the rest of the interview.<br \/><br \/>\"How old are you, Mr. Stilinski?\" Hale asks him, when Stiles settles back into his chair. His strange eyes are slightly hooded now, unblinking. <br \/><br \/>Stiles actually has to think about that for a second. The question is not at all what he's expecting, plus it's hard to put together a coherent thought in the face of so much authority and hotness. \"Twenty,\" he says, after an embarrassingly long pause during which his mouth is probably hanging open while he does some quick math. \"Why?\"<br \/><br \/>Derek Hale smiles at him, slowly.  A surprisingly big, pleased grin that utterly transforms his face, and makes him look, inexplicably, even more dangerous.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>\"College must be expensive,\" Hale says after the waiter drops off their steaks and shuts the door to the private dining room behind him. The private dining room in the expensive restaurant where Stiles is starting to suspect he is on a lunch date with Derek Hale. <br \/><br \/>Stiles feels weird talking about his own financial situation--which is tight, very tight--with a guy who probably has a million dollars lost in his couch cushions and doesn't even miss it. \"I'm doing okay,\" he says, and tries to look unconcerned about it.<br \/><br \/>Hale hasn't touched his steak yet, barely looked at it. He picks up his wineglass and takes a sip, eyes on Stiles the whole time.<br \/><br \/>\"What if you could do better than okay?\" he asks.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>\"I'm going to hurt you,\" Derek whispers in his ear, like a promise, as Stiles straddles his lap, knees sticking to the leather of Derek's couch, hands tied behind his back. Derek's teeth close over Stiles' collarbone, dig in enough to make him twitch and rub his painfully hard cock against Derek's shirt. Stiles is naked and Derek is not, and it's been less than twenty-four hours since Stiles walked into his office and asked him what his long-term plans were with regard to sustainability and alternative energy sources, and Stiles has sucked Derek's cock three times. Derek hasn't let Stiles come at all. <br \/><br \/>\"Yes, please,\" Stiles says, because he's already learning, and the crack of Derek's hand on his ass is the best and worst thing Stiles has ever felt.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>Derek's eyes are green. Or maybe blue. Or maybe gray. All Stiles knows is that when Derek looks at him, he feels like Derek could ask him to do just about anything and he would probably do it. Eagerly.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>After Derek fucks his ass the first time, a few weeks into their arrangement, he stretches out behind Stiles and snugs him close, stroking his thumb over Stiles' hip bone and breathing damp air into his ear.<br \/><br \/>\"You won't always be allowed to come when I do that,\" Derek says, and nudges the back of Stiles' head until he tips his chin down and lets Derek mouth the back of his neck. <br \/><br \/>\"I know,\" Stiles says drowsily. He's glad Derek hadn't expected him to hold back this time, because there was nothing that could have prevented him from coming while Derek fucked him and talked to him and held his hands down.<br \/><br \/>\"We'll work on it. I'll teach you to control it.\" Derek's teeth scrape lightly against Stiles' shoulder blade, making him shiver. \"I'll teach you to wait for me, and it'll be so good. It'll be so good, Stiles.\"<br \/><br \/>Stiles believes him.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>It doesn't feel as weird as Stiles thought it would, having sex in exchange for money. He quits his job at the pizza place and puts new tires on his Jeep, and doesn't worry about how he's going to buy books when the new semester rolls around. He always has plenty of money now, and school is paid for, and he gets to spend time at Derek's penthouse apartment, which is like something out of a movie about beautiful rich people, getting fucked senseless. <br \/><br \/>He tells Scott about it, sort of. Not exactly what they do in bed, or how much of a business arrangement it is, just that he's hanging out with Derek and Derek is helping him financially. Scott doesn't ask many questions, but that's probably because he really doesn't want to know.  He sees Derek's sleek, expensive car pick Stiles up when Derek wants to see him, and he sees the marks on Stiles' body when he comes home afterward. He's not an idiot.<br \/><br \/>In bed, Derek likes to make Stiles submit, make him whine and squirm, but he also likes to run his hands over Stiles' body and tell him how pretty his mouth is, and how good he looks on his knees. Just the way the tone of his voice changes when he gives Stiles an order makes Stiles' heart beat faster. Being with him is easy and fun, and Stiles actually misses him a little when Derek is traveling on business or Stiles has to study and they can't see each other.<br \/><br \/>Stiles' sexual experience with guys is limited to the jerking-off-to-porn type, and the kinkiest thing he's ever done before this was put a rubber band around his balls once, so everything about this is new to him. The Internet is a vast and terrible resource, though, and Stiles reads up a little, just enough to not completely terrify himself. He thinks Derek might be really good at this.<br \/><br \/>Or at least smart enough to not throw Stiles into the deep end right away. Derek was clear from the beginning about what he wanted, but also clear that Stiles had the power to say no to any of it, or even all of it. \"A test run,\" Derek had said the first day, once they'd gotten back to his place. \"Nothing heavy duty, and I'll stop if you don't like it.\" <br \/><br \/>But Stiles had liked it, though he hadn't really been sure he would until they were on the couch, Derek's hot palm cupping the back of his neck, and Derek caught Stiles' earlobe between his teeth and murmured, \"I want to tie your hands behind your back.\" Stiles had liked that <i>a lot.<\/i> And liked most of the stuff they've done since then, too.<br \/><br \/>Stiles has always been a smartass, and it does get him in trouble once in a while, but Derek seems unusually tolerant of sass for a guy who gets off on giving orders. That's probably the weirdest part, really. That Derek, whose default facial expression seems to be \"intimidating glare,\" doesn't actually take a reign of terror approach to his personal relationships. <br \/><br \/>Sometimes Stiles makes mistakes, but he only gets punished for willful disobedience, never for ignorance. Derek is patient with him, and never mean, and is always careful about explaining the rules and what he expects, but he's also demanding and unyielding. He asks a lot, but he gives a lot, too. <br \/><br \/>And it's not all handcuffs and spankings and learning to deep throat. When Stiles spends the night, Derek usually makes breakfast for him in the morning, and is constantly vigilant about Stiles' wants and needs. Stiles can barely talk about or glance at anything without Derek buying it for him, and if he so much as frowns, Derek wants to know what the problem is and how he can help. It's sort of sweet. <br \/><br \/>He probably shouldn't get too attached to him, Stiles thinks, when it's already too late.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>He blows off plans with Derek once, early on in their arrangement, in favor of a post-midterms falafel and Frisbee celebration with Scott. <br \/><br \/>He gets the paddle, and has to sleep alone on the floor next to Derek's bed all night. <br \/><br \/>He doesn't do it again.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>Derek doesn't talk about himself much, but he almost always answers questions if Stiles asks them. Stiles being Stiles, he asks a lot of questions. One of the bits of information he gleans from this approach is that Derek is even younger than he thought, not even thirty yet, which seems a ridiculously tender age to have so much money and power. It's sort of a miracle Derek isn't a complete and utter douchebag.<br \/><br \/>\"Thanks,\" Derek says wryly, when Stiles tell him this. <br \/><br \/>\"You don't even have a cocaine problem or anything?\" Stiles wonders. He still finds this amazing.<br \/><br \/>\"I have other weaknesses,\" Derek says, voice dropping down an octave or two, and he hauls Stiles up over his knees and yanks his underwear down. <br \/><br \/>A few minutes later, when Stiles' bottom is red and warm, Derek holds him open and pushes inside. \"This is way better than a cocaine habit,\" Stiles decides, hissing at the way his ass smarts so perfectly when Derek's hips bump up against it. Derek laughs, and there's very little conversation after that.<br \/><br \/>The one thing Derek definitely does not want to talk about is his family, so Stiles consults with Google, and immediately regrets it. The results that come back are almost all news stories from six years ago: <i>Hale Family Tragedy<\/i> and <i>Eleven Dead In Suspicious Blaze<\/i> and <i>Hale Family Perishes in Tragic Fire<\/i> and other gruesome headlines. Stiles doesn't click on any of them. Even though it's public knowledge, this is obviously something Derek doesn't want to discuss, and it feels like a violation of his privacy to go around him. <br \/><br \/>The death of Stiles' mother was the single worst thing to ever happen to him in his life so far, and he will never get over it, never stop missing her. To multiply that by eleven, to suddenly be the last man standing in his family, and then, while not much older than Stiles is now, also be expected to head a multi-billion dollar corporation? How is Derek even still a functional human being?<br \/><br \/>Before, Stiles thought of Derek as lucky, to have been born beautiful and smart and into a wealthy family. Now, Derek doesn't seem very lucky at all.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>Once, on a sunny Sunday morning, Stiles turns away from the toaster to find Derek leaning against the kitchen counter, steaming cup of coffee in his hand, watching him. <br \/><br \/>\"Come here,\" Derek says softly, and when Stiles is standing in front of him, Derek drags the backs of two fingers down the side of Stiles' face, and Stiles' legs follow the motion until he's kneeling at Derek's feet. Derek's hand comes to rest gently on the top of Stiles' head, and they stay like that, Derek sipping his coffee, until the toaster pops up.<br \/><br \/>Derek's fingers skim down to tip Stiles' chin up as he bends to kiss his forehead. \"Get your Pop-Tarts,\" he says, and then turns to look out the window, a panorama of sunlit skyscrapers and brilliantly blue sky, as Stiles gets to his feet.<br \/><br \/>The Pop-Tarts are, as usual, molten hot, and as he sucks on his burned fingers and waits for them to cool Stiles looks over at Derek, the easy slope of his shoulders and the relaxed set of his jaw. He looks happier than Stiles has ever seen him.<br \/><br \/>One of the things Stiles learned pretty quickly is that being on his knees doesn't mean he's powerless. As much as Derek loves having the upper hand, he only enjoys the privilege because Stiles gives it to him. And the upper hand is a relative thing.  <br \/><br \/>Stiles occasionally sees Derek on television, always looking immaculately dressed and coldly invulnerable, the most powerful guy in the room. He thinks about those images sometimes,  when he hears the way Derek's breath catches when Stiles offers his wrists up to be bound, or when he feels him lose his rhythm when Stiles starts to beg, or when he sees Derek unguarded and content like he is right now. He sees the difference between this Derek and the Derek on TV, and he thinks, <i>I did that.<\/i> <br \/><br \/>Derek is definitely the most powerful guy in the room, as long as Stiles isn't in it.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>They're going to celebrate Christmas early, before Stiles goes home for break. It's a holiday that causes Stiles no small amount of angst, because what can he possibly give Derek that Derek doesn't already have or couldn't buy for himself? Or, hell, buy the factory where they make it, plus the patent?<br \/><br \/>\"You could make me something,\" Derek suggests, when Stiles mentions it, because apparently there's no anxiety Stiles isn't willing to voice. They're cuddling on Derek's couch, watching the rain beat against the windows. Derek is running his thumb over the bruises on Stiles' wrist, ones he put there himself earlier in the week.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm not in kindergarten!\" Stiles protests and pokes Derek in the ribs with his elbow, which earns him an annoyed huff. \"I can get you a real gift.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I don't need anything else,\" Derek tells him, practically purring it into Stiles' ear as his fingers skim up under Stiles' shirt and pinch his nipple. They get a little sidetracked.<br \/><br \/>It continues to make Stiles crazy, though, so he eventually badgers Derek into agreeing he will not buy anything fancy, which Derek only does grudgingly and while making it clear that he considers this an incredible imposition, but Stiles stands firm. Derek's the guy who gives him a new Apple product every time he has to cancel a date, so there's no telling what the dude's gonna do for an actual gift-giving holiday.<br \/><br \/>It's not what Stiles expects.<br \/><br \/>Derek leads him into the bedroom, and then into his enormous walk-in closet, and points to the set of drawers on the far wall. One of them has a red Christmas bow stuck on it, so Stiles goes for that one. When he opens it, it's empty, except for one of Stiles' T-shirts that somehow got left here a while back.<br \/><br \/>\"Great, you gave me my own shirt,\" Stiles says, before he realizes: the gift isn't the shirt. The gift is <i>the drawer<\/i>. \"Oh, um. Thank you,\" he mumbles, suddenly feeling a little warm and wriggly, like he wants to laugh and kiss Derek at the same time. Just climb all over him and love on him.<br \/><br \/>When he glances over at Derek, feeling a little self-conscious all of a sudden--which is ridiculous, given everything they've done together over the last few months--Derek is moving toward him, a predatory gleam in his eye.<br \/><br \/>\"There's more,\" he says against Stiles' temple as his hands deftly work Stiles' belt buckle and nudge him back toward the bed at the same time. <br \/><br \/>Oh, is there ever more.<br \/><br \/>Derek blows him. Not just a little sucking and licking before he fucks him, which Stiles is used to and loves, but an awesome, sloppy blowjob that goes on and on, because Derek will always choose orgasm denial if he can, but Stiles doesn't care because he's never had someone suck his dick this thoroughly, and at the end Derek lets him come in his mouth, which has never happened before.<br \/><br \/>Once Stiles thinks he can walk, Derek bends him over in front of the huge mirror in the closet, Stiles' hands squeaking against the glass as he braces himself, and watches himself fuck Stiles' ass. <br \/><br \/>\"Look at you,\" Derek pants as he practically lifts Stiles' toes off the floor with every thrust, but Stiles doesn't want to look at himself. He wants to look at Derek, with his strong hands curled around Stiles' hips, and his teeth sunk into his lower lip when he tips his head back and groans through his orgasm. <br \/><br \/>They end up in a heap on the floor, and after they finally shower and get back into bed, Stiles gives Derek his present, which is a hideous construction paper Christmas tree, complete with pipe cleaner garland and a glitter star, handmade by Stiles himself. Derek laughs, white teeth and crinkly eyes and everything, and doesn't even complain the next morning when there's glitter all over the bed, clinging to the stubble on his face and making his ass sparkle when he walks toward the bathroom.<br \/><br \/>Stiles doesn't expect to hear from Derek over Christmas, but he gets a lot of texts the first few days, and a surprise phone call late on Christmas Eve, after he's already in his little bed in his old room, feeling oddly vulnerable.<br \/><br \/>No amount of prying will get Derek to divulge where he is and who he's with, which leads Stiles to conclude that he's all alone in his apartment with a bunch of fruit baskets from people he barely knows and a stupid paper tree with glitter all over it. It's a sad image. He should have asked Derek if he wanted to come with him for Christmas, he thinks, before he realizes that would be ridiculous. What would he tell his dad? <i>Hey, Dad, this is the rich guy who pays to spank my ass, is the guest room ready?<\/i><br \/><br \/>But Derek's family is irrevocably gone, and he doesn't seem to have many friends, just people who work for him. Actually, when Stiles thinks about it, for all that he's incredibly busy and often surrounded by all of his gorgeous minions, Derek seems kind of lonely. It makes Stiles feel bad all over again for ditching him to play Frisbee that one time, and not just because his butt hurt for two days.<br \/><br \/>After the presents are opened on Christmas morning, he sends Derek a text message. He agonizes over what to say, because he wants Derek to know he's thinking about him, but doesn't want to come across like he's pitying him, which Derek will hate. He spends several minutes typing and then backspacing multiple times before he settles on <i><b>merry christmas I miss you<\/b><\/i>. Derek responds almost instantly: <i><b>Same here. Hurry home.<\/b><\/i><br \/><br \/>Stiles had thought he was home already, back in the house he grew up in, where his father still lives. But he was wrong.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>They spend Super Bowl weekend together at Derek's place, part of a new thing Stiles has noticed since Christmas, where they're spending more time together\u2014sometimes multiple days in a row\u2014and doing things that don't involve sex. They watch movies and go to used book stores, and Derek cooks a lot. Stiles' drawer has slowly filled up with clothes and comic books and random stuff that keeps finding its way into his pockets and then into Derek's washing machine. He even officially has his own side of the bed, with a charger for his phone on the table.<br \/><br \/>He's starting to feel a little strange about the sizable deposit that still shows up in his bank account on the fifteenth of every month, but he's not sure how to bring it up, or if it's even his place to do so. He tells himself it's pocket change to Derek, but mostly he just tries not to think about it at all.<br \/><br \/>On the day of the game, Stiles makes a huge pot of chili, one of the few things he's really good at, and they eat on the couch, nudging each other with their feet and trash talking both teams equally. But it's not really much of a game, and once it's clear what the outcome is going to be, Derek turns his attention to Stiles instead. <br \/><br \/>Derek kisses him and kisses him, and slides his hands up under Stiles' shirt, and holds his hips against him so Stiles can feel how hard he is, and then goes back to kissing him again. Long, slow kisses that wander down Stiles' neck and behind his ears as Derek's fingers trace tiny circles into the skin above the waistband of his jeans. When Stiles is grinding against him in frustration, wishing Derek would put him on his knees or turn him over or anything, anything that he wants, Derek sits back and says, \"All right, time for you to go home.\" <br \/><br \/>Stiles falls back onto the couch, gasping, and nearly wails in disappointment. \"You aren't going to fuck me?\" He's so turned on he can barely keep himself still, like his <i>blood<\/i> is on fire.<br \/><br \/>Derek smiles and shakes his head, and tugs Stiles' shirt back down. Just the way the backs of his fingers brush against Stiles' belly makes Stiles' hips try to roll up, seeking Derek's thigh. This is unbelievable, and when Stiles starts to say so, Derek taps Stiles' mouth shut with a finger on the underside of his chin and gives him a quick kiss with no tongue or anything. <br \/><br \/>Stiles' hands clench themselves in Derek's shirt and try to drag him closer, but Derek just laughs, low and dirty, against the curve of Stiles' ear. \"I want you to go home and think about me when you jerk off,\" Derek says, and Stiles does. Multiple times.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>A few months later, with Derek's solitary Christmas still in mind, Stiles spends his entire spring break with him, and after the first day realizes that Derek's cleared his schedule for this, and is on a psuedo-vacation. He's still on his phone a lot, and his computer, but they spend the whole week together mostly doing whatever they want. They go to a Giants game, and eat drippy ice cream cones in Golden Gate Park, and watch six zombie movies in a row. Stiles learns what a humbler is.<br \/><br \/>On the third day Boyd drops by to go over some stuff with Derek and get his signature on some paperwork, but Stiles never even sees him because Derek leaves Stiles kneeling on the bed, hard and desperate, his wrists cuffed to his ankles. Stiles has orders to stay hard for Derek, which isn't a problem at all. <br \/><br \/>He can faintly hear Derek's voice from the other room, a low rumble that seems perfectly pitched to make the base of Stiles' spine tingle, and he can see the fresh teethmarks on his thighs, feel them sting a little when he shifts on his knees. Just thinking about Derek's mouth on him makes Stiles choke back a moan, and he's dripping all over himself and aching when Derek finally shows Boyd to the door.<br \/><br \/>\"Good boy,\" Derek says approvingly, when he sees Stiles, and then he opens his pants and ruthlessly fucks Stiles' face. It's so good Stiles thinks he might die.<br \/><br \/>When Derek gets hard again, he lets Stiles ride him and come whenever he wants to, and even leaves his wrists unbound so Stiles can touch him all he wants, bend down and kiss him on the mouth. Stiles comes all over Derek's stomach, something he rarely gets to do, and Derek must like it, too, because he swears and grabs Stiles' ass to move him faster, and chokes out Stiles' name when he surges up into him one last time.<br \/><br \/>Afterward, Stiles sprawls on top of him, clean-up be damned, and dozes while Derek lightly strokes the back of his neck with two fingers, over and over again.<br \/><br \/>\"You're perfect,\" Derek says against the top of Stiles' head.<br \/><br \/>Stiles disagrees--he thinks Derek is the perfect one--but for once he's smart enough to keep his mouth shut.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>It's pure coincidence that Stiles sees them. He's sitting in a pretentious hipster coffee shop, waiting for Scott to finish up an interview in the building next door and wondering why Derek hasn't responded to his text messages all morning, when Derek's car pulls up to the curb. For a split second Stiles thinks Derek has somehow figured out where he is, and has shown up to surprise him. Derek's been out of town for four days and they're supposed to see each other tonight. <br \/><br \/>But that's not what's happening at all, because as Stiles is shoving his phone into his pocket and downing the last of his coffee, Derek comes out of the restaurant across the street. With a woman. A <i>beautiful<\/i> woman.<br \/><br \/>She has long, dark hair that falls perfectly around a face with the kind of bone structure that would make a sculptor weep. Her shirt is cut just low enough to provide a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage, and her legs are about six miles long. She'd fit right in at Derek's company, where even the guys in the mail room look like they were recruited at a Vogue photo shoot.<br \/><br \/>Derek has his arm around her shoulders, and she's laughing, looking up at him, and as Stiles watches, stricken, she reaches up and ruffles his hair with her fingers, something Stiles would never dream of doing in public. Derek smiles down at her, his real smile, and kisses her on the cheek before helping her into his car.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>Derek texts him an hour later, and it takes all of Stiles' willpower to not do something petty and immature like make him wait for a reply just out of spite. Or something really pathetic and sad like ask him how many other people he's sleeping with, and why he needs anyone else when he has Stiles, when Stiles doesn't need anyone else but Derek.<br \/><br \/>The car rolls up in front of Stiles' house at six o'clock sharp, and for the first time since the Frisbee incident Stiles considers not getting in it. It's the certainty that if he doesn't go he'll just be in limbo even longer, not knowing what's really going on with Derek, that makes him move his feet. That, and the realization that he'll probably go crawling back eventually anyway, and he'd rather not get the paddle again.<br \/><br \/>The drive seems to take forever, and Stiles uses the time to remind himself that he's Derek's employee. Sure, Derek doesn't pay Stiles' FICA or anything, but he's giving Stiles money in exchange for his time and his body, and that's all they ever agreed to, and that's all Stiles can expect. Derek isn't Stiles' boyfriend--they have an arrangement. <br \/><br \/>He just let himself get a little caught up, that's all, mistaking Derek's competence and natural tendency to take control for something deeper, and specific to Stiles. In his own defense, the drawer in Derek's closet is partly to blame, and the phone call on Christmas Eve that--Stiles groans and covers his face with his hands. That was probably where Derek was on Christmas Eve, when Stiles was feeling sorry for him and picturing him all alone: with his girlfriend. <br \/><br \/>Maybe Derek's had a girlfriend this whole time. <br \/><br \/>Actually, there are a lot of things that look different now in retrospect--every time Derek cancelled a date, or took a phone call in the other room, or was 'out of town' for days at a time. Derek had always given him the impression all of that was work-related, and Stiles had taken that at face value, but maybe that wasn't the case at all. <br \/><br \/>It's absurd to think Derek isn't seeing anyone else. He's handsome and rich and powerful; he probably has people throwing themselves at his feet all day long, and he's never promised Stiles anything beyond money and orgasms. Stiles just forgot that for a little bit, so maybe this was a good reminder. <br \/><br \/>He looks out the window at the city slipping by and takes one deep breath after another. He can handle this. He just needs to be realistic and stick to what they agreed, which is totally doable. By the time the car glides to a stop in front of Derek's building, he's got himself back under control.<br \/><br \/>That goes right out the window when he walks into the apartment and finds Derek--the Derek most other people never see--padding around the kitchen in ripped jeans and one of Stiles' faded old T-shirts that's a little too tight on Derek in a good way, bare toes flexing against the tile when he crouches down to search one of the cabinets for the meat thermometer. <br \/><br \/>Stiles is in love with him. There's no point in pretending otherwise.<br \/><br \/>Derek smiles when he sees Stiles, and pulls him close and kisses him on the forehead. \"Missed you,\" he says easily, like it's nothing. Like it's true.<br \/><br \/>His hair is really messy. Stiles wants to cry.<br \/><br \/>~*~<br \/><br \/>Derek makes dinner, and while they eat he asks Stiles what he's been up to, which is always the same thing: school and school and more school. Stiles suddenly realizes that everything about him must be incredibly boring and childish to a guy like Derek, who can send the stock market tumbling with one carefully worded press release. <br \/><br \/>Stiles asks Derek about his trip, unable to help himself, and Derek pauses before he says, \"It was interesting. We'll talk about it later,\" and Stiles isn't hungry anymore.<br \/><br \/>\"Are you okay?\" Derek asks him, when they're on the bed and he's taking off Stiles' shirt.<br \/><br \/>\"Yeah, fine,\" Stiles says, and it's not a total lie. Derek still wants him, at least one more time. That's something. <br \/><br \/>Stiles had been looking forward to some reunion sex, which tended to be really memorable, but now he'll have to settle for goodbye sex instead, because after this they're going to have that talk Derek mentioned over dinner. Stiles tries not to think about how awful it's going to be.<br \/><br \/>Derek gets naked, too, which he doesn't always do. Stiles is grateful for it, because he loves to look at Derek, stare at the ridges in his stomach and the feathery sweep of hair under his belly button, and the way the muscles in his thighs strain when he fucks up into Stiles' mouth. This might be the last time Stiles gets to see him like this, so he wants to look his fill.<br \/><br \/>It's the kind of night where Derek takes his time, hurting Stiles a little in the best ways, stroking his jaw while Stiles sucks him, murmuring half-swallowed words against Stiles' ribs before he sinks his teeth in and makes him whimper. Finally, he puts Stiles on his back and fucks him with two fingers, braced over him on his other arm, making Stiles look into his pretty eyes as he winds him up tighter and tighter, until Stiles is begging Derek to just put his dick in him already.<br \/><br \/>Stiles nearly sobs when Derek finally eases into him, feeling raw and overwhelmed, and Derek slides a hand up Stiles' chest and closes it around his throat, pushing his chin up, bending his head back until Stiles has no choice but to arch his back, grinding down on Derek's cock.<br \/><br \/>\"What do you say?\" Derek asks. He makes the words sound so filthy. \"What do you say when I give you what you want?\"<br \/><br \/>\"Thank you, Derek,\" Stiles says. It comes out hoarse and needy, but Stiles has no shame about that. It's nothing new. \"Thank you.\"<br \/><br \/>Derek hooks his hands under Stiles' knees and starts fucking him in earnest, the muscles in his arms bunching as he holds Stiles where he wants him. Stiles gets so caught up in watching Derek that he forgets to concentrate, and he realizes he's about to come too late to stop it. <br \/><br \/>His hands are tied above his head and he can't reach down and pinch himself, which he was allowed to do early on when he was learning to hold back, so he frantically yelps, \"Permission to come! Permission to come!\" But it's already too late and before Derek can even answer him he's shooting all over his own belly.<br \/><br \/>Derek stutters to a stop, grip still tight on Stiles' knees, and they both stare down at the mess on Stiles' stomach for a second. Stiles hasn't done this in months. He can't bring himself to look at Derek's face.<br \/><br \/>The muscles in Derek's stomach are twitching as he holds himself still, chest rising and falling rapidly. He'd probably been close to coming. \"I didn't give you permission to do that,\" he says, voice tight.<br \/><br \/>\"I'm sorry,\" Stiles says immediately. \"I wasn't paying attention, I--\"<br \/><br \/>It's the wrong thing to say.<br \/><br \/>Derek's eyes snap to Stiles' face instantly, and Stiles can't help but look at him now; he's well-trained. \"You weren't <i>paying attention?<\/i>\" He looks angry now, so angry. \"What were you thinking about instead, Stiles?\" he asks with the carefully enunciated calm that means Stiles is in a fuck-ton of trouble.<br \/><br \/>\"You! I was thinking about you!\" Stiles hurries to say. \"I was thinking about--\"<br \/><br \/>But he can't say what he's been thinking about all day, can he? Because the truth is even more damning. So he doesn't say anything, and Derek just gets angrier. He lets go of Stiles' legs and pulls out, quickly, and it doesn't feel good. His face is thunderous.<br \/><br \/>\"Turn over,\" he says, and Stiles' stomach clenches. Derek rarely fucks him face down--he says he likes to see Stiles react to him. Stiles really screwed up.<br \/><br \/>\"Derek--\"<br \/><br \/>\"Turn. Over,\" Derek repeats. \"If I have to say it a third time, you'll regret it.\"<br \/><br \/>That's definitely a motivator. Stiles flips over, an awkward movement with his hands still tied together and cuffed to the bed, but he manages, and spreads his legs and lifts his ass a little, belatedly offering obedience, in hopes it will placate him a bit. Derek's never fucked him while he was angry, and Stiles would have happily lived the rest of his life never knowing what it was like. Too late now.<br \/><br \/>He expects it to be rough and fast, and maybe a bad spanking first, but Derek covers him, arms bracketing Stiles' bound wrists, and thrusts into him slowly and then even slower. He doesn't talk at all, which is worrisome. Stiles is used to being showered with praise and compliments when they're fucking. But he doesn't really deserve any right now, he supposes.<br \/><br \/>Stiles gets hard again after a few minutes, and the friction of the sheets on his cock is nearly unbearable, but he hangs on, determined, and lets Derek takes his time, and tries to be a good boy. It goes on and on, and Derek is still silent except for harsh panting in Stiles' ear. The silence is the worst part. Stiles wishes Derek would just come already.<br \/><br \/>But he doesn't, and it's awful. Stiles finally breaks, even though he isn't even sure if he's allowed to speak. \"I'm sorry,\" he says, voice cracking. \"Derek, I'm sorry.\" <br \/><br \/>\"I know you are,\" Derek says, but his voice sounds wrong. Removed and offhand, no affection in it at all, like the way he talks to people he doesn't know or trust. He never sounds like that with Stiles, and never has, not even the first time they met.<br \/><br \/>And that's the one thing Stiles can't take. He's done a lot of things to Derek, and let Derek do a lot of things to him, some of them he didn't find particularly enjoyable except for the fact that Derek wanted him to do them, but this--this he can't take.<br \/><br \/>The word sticks in Stiles' throat at first, and his eyes feel hot and he wants to curl up in a ball and hide. This isn't how he wanted this to end, but for the first time he actually wants to get away from Derek and what he's doing to him, so he squeezes his eyes shut and says, \"<i>Wolfsbane.<\/i>\"<br \/><br \/>Derek's reaction is instantaneous. He levers up and off of Stiles, pulling out so fast it makes Stiles wince. When he reaches to untie the rope around Stiles' wrists, his hands are trembling. Stiles has never safeworded out before.<br \/><br \/>\"What do you want me to do?\" Derek asks when Stiles hesitantly rolls over and looks up at him, and if he thought Derek's face looked terrible before when he was angry, it's even worse now. He looks helpless and unsure, which is not something Stiles is used to seeing. It doesn't fit him. <br \/><br \/>When Stiles doesn't answer right away, Derek lifts a hand toward him, like he's going to pet Stiles' hair, and then he hesitates, waiting for permission. It's so surreal it makes Stiles forget for a second how miserable he is. But he does want Derek to touch him, still. He wants Derek to touch him always.<br \/><br \/>Stiles tips his head toward him and then rubs into the touch, inching closer, not sure of his welcome, but Derek gathers him close and kisses him on the forehead. He lets out what sounds like a relieved breath when Stiles clings to him.<br \/><br \/>\"Is this okay? Tell me what you want me to do,\" Derek says again, hands drifting down Stiles' back. He sounds more like himself now, and his fingers are steady and sure on Stiles' skin, not shaking anymore.<br \/><br \/>\"I want you to keep me,\" Stiles says, before he can stop himself. Derek's hands twitch against Stiles' hips, and then he pulls him even closer, nestling Stiles under his chin.<br \/><br \/>\"I was going to,\" Derek says softly. <i>Was going to.<\/i> Past tense. Stiles sucks in a miserable, shuddering breath and wonders how in the hell he's going to get through the next fifteen minutes, the next few days, the rest of his life. He feels Derek's hand gently palm the back of his head. \"Tell me what's going on, Stiles. I can't fix it if you don't tell me.\"<br \/><br \/>That's pure Derek, right there. He wants to take care of Stiles and help him and make his life easier, and up until now Stiles has been happy to let him do those things, but Derek can't fix this, can he? He can't fix how he feels about Stiles, which is not the same way Stiles feels about him. No one can fix that. All Stiles can do is bear it.<br \/><br \/>\"Do you have a girlfriend?\" Stiles asks, because keeping things in isn't his style and he has nothing to lose now. He's already lost all this, if what he thinks is true. \"Is that where you went for Christmas?\"<br \/><br \/>The hand still stroking Stiles' back stops, then starts up again. \"What the hell are you talking about?\" Derek asks.<br \/><br \/>\"I was waiting for Scott and I saw you come out of a restaurant with a woman and she played with your hair and you didn't answer my texts all morning and you kissed her,\" Stiles says in a hurry, which is sort of jumbled, but Derek is used to that by now.<br \/><br \/>An agonizingly long silence follows, during which Stiles feels like he's slowly disintegrating from the inside out.<br \/><br \/>\"Yes, that's who I was with on Christmas,\" Derek says, and even though Stiles knew it was coming, it's like being punched in the heart. Derek's hand slides around to carefully cup Stiles' face, but he doesn't make Stiles look at him, which is a small mercy. \"And you're going to feel really stupid in a second,\" Derek adds, amusement in his voice, as his thumb skims Stiles' lower lip. \"Because she's my sister.\"<br \/><br \/>Stiles leans back until he can see Derek's ridiculously handsome face. Derek looks like he's trying not to laugh. <br \/><br \/>\"Your <i>sister?<\/i>\" Stiles asks, disbelieving. <i>I thought your entire family was dead,<\/i> he thankfully doesn't say. It's possible he should have read one or two of those news stories he Googled. \"But you said your day was interesting and we'd talk about it later!\" he says accusingly.<br \/><br \/>Derek's amusement melts away as he blinks in confusion. \"What does that--\"<br \/><br \/>\"You said we had to talk.\" Stiles pushes himself up onto his elbow, really getting into his righteous indignation now. \"You dodged my question with a vague answer about 'a talk.' That's standard break-up language!\" he insists, and then immediately regrets his word choice. It's not really \"breaking up\" so much as \"firing,\" in this case. \"I thought you were going to--to get rid of me.\"<br \/><br \/>\"I'm not getting rid of you,\" Derek says. <br \/><br \/>\"Then why do we have to talk? And where were you all morning? And why is your hair all messed up?\"<br \/><br \/>Derek flops backward onto the pillow. \"Oh my God, Stiles,\" he groans, rubbing his hand over his face. \"Which one of those should I answer first?\"<br \/><br \/>Stiles takes a second to think back. \"Why do we have to talk?\" That's definitely the most pressing question at the moment.<br \/><br \/>It doesn't seem like a good sign that Derek stares up at the ceiling for a minute before he answers. \"Because my sister is in town and I was going to ask you to meet her,\" he says finally, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. <br \/><br \/>Again with the past tense. <i>I was going to keep you, Stiles. I was going to have you meet my sister, Stiles.<\/i><br \/><br \/>\"And now you don't want me to?\" Stiles asks, his voice sounding embarrassingly small. That seems to be where this is going, though he has no idea what he did to make Derek change his mind. But he must have done something, and even though Derek still has one arm looped around Stiles' back, he feels tense and stiff, like he'd rather not be here right now.<br \/><br \/>Stiles watches Derek's throat move as he swallows, and then swallows again before he speaks. Instead of answering Stiles' question, he asks, \"Who were you thinking about?\"<br \/><br \/>Now Stiles has <i>no idea<\/i> what's going on. \"Who was I what?\"<br \/><br \/>Derek's jaw twitches. He still hasn't looked at Stiles. \"Before, when you said you weren't paying attention. Who were you thinking about?\"<br \/><br \/>\"<i>You,<\/i>\" Stiles says. Didn't they already cover this? \"Why would you think it wasn't you?\"<br \/><br \/>Derek rolls his head on the pillow until he's finally looking at him. The hesitation Stiles sees written all over his face is not typical of him at all. \"I know I can't control what goes on in your head, or what you feel, and I'm not stupid enough to think I'm buying that, too,\" Derek says. \"That's not part of our arrangement.\"<br \/><br \/>Stiles barely stops himself from flinching at the word \"buying.\" For the first time since all this began, he feels like a thing instead of a person. \"Right. Our arrangement,\" he says bitterly, his already low spirits sinking even lower. He hates that word. <i>Hates it.<\/i> \"Gotta stick to that.\"<br \/><br \/>\"Right,\" Derek says, and he's back to looking at the ceiling again. <br \/><br \/>Stiles nods jerkily. \"Right.\"<br \/><br \/>And then the weirdest thing happens. Derek takes a deep breath and suddenly morphs into stoic, aloof businessman Derek Hale, right in front of Stiles' eyes. \"We agreed to certain parameters,\" he says, while Stiles is trying not to cringe away from him. He doesn't like this Derek at all. \"And I respect that. If you don't want to keep doing this, I'll understand that, too. I'll still pay for your school, because I agreed to do it.\" Here Derek appears to falter for a second, then his voice goes strangely quiet as he says, \"I don't want you to be with--to continue to do this because you're worried about the money.\" <br \/><br \/>It's all weirdly emotionless and business-like, except for that one little stumble at the end, which rolls around in Stiles' brain like a pinball, picking up speed as it bounces off all the other Derek-related stuff in there. <br \/><br \/>The drawer. The Christmas Eve phone call. Super Bowl weekend, and spring break, and the look on Derek's face that morning in the kitchen with the Pop-Tarts. And now: Derek's reaction when he thought Stiles was thinking about someone else while he was in bed with him. <br \/><br \/><i>Derek<\/i> is the one who hasn't been sticking to the arrangement. Every single one of those things Stiles thought he'd misinterpreted was instigated by Derek, and Stiles hadn't misinterpreted them at all. And now Derek's trying to act like none of that meant anything, but it's too late, because Stiles is on to him. Stiles heard what he almost said.<br \/><br \/>Be with <i>me<\/i>, was what Derek almost said. <i>I don't want you to be with me because of my money.<\/i> And there's only one reason Derek would find that intolerable.<br \/><br \/>The warm, wriggly feeling is back, and this time Stiles can't contain it, and it comes bursting out of him in the form of over-enthusiastic affection. He clambers half on top of Derek and noisily kisses his mouth, his cheek, his chin, his mouth again. Derek gives him a baffled look, but his arms wrap around Stiles and squeeze, which is encouraging.<br \/><br \/>\"You are a lunatic. What are you doing?\" Derek manages to grumble as Stiles laughs against his mouth. <br \/><br \/>Stiles darts up and kisses Derek's forehead. \"You're going to feel really stupid in a second,\" he says gleefully, and then he tells Derek exactly what he's been keeping to himself all this time, and it only takes three words.<br \/><br \/>Derek smiles at him, a huge, happy grin, and he doesn't look dangerous at all.<br \/><br \/><b>The End<\/b><br \/><br \/>Full prompt: <i>When Scott is unable to do an important interview for the college paper, Stiles offers to save the day, even if it means skipping class and wearing a suit. This guy's supposed to be super rich and super attractive, but Stiles grew up with people like Lydia and Jackson and Danny, so he's pretty immune to that kind of thing. At least, he thought he was. And then he meets Derek Hale. Thing is, Lydia et al never liked Stiles back, but Derek seems to. Under certain conditions anyway. 50shades AU.<\/i><a name='cutid1-end'><\/a><br \/><br \/><center><br \/><a href=\"http:\/\/justanotherbeautifulface.tumblr.com\/post\/41558436161\/1-5-cover-series-for-fanfics-that-i-love-you-were\" target=\"_blank\">justanotherbeautifulface<\/a> made this wonderful cover!<br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/7c4b12c1eb5ded447d86d9e44342eaf7a7cc182383f97a3cc724e22ea01cc2ad\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbpSndXe5hbdg8S3G09oA0h6UV50u0NFlDLMZkxOFFwIkx0o7EUAnXLda7nRo1BAo1N8:TEDM2NANQvsCqaOzHI80Vw\" fetchpriority=\"high\"><br \/><br \/>[Image Description: Cover for story.]<br \/><\/center><br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/683916.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/c1b75cfb85e429ad7f8da9c23cfed6c5e8700c3c311f8049142d83c31ba0c3ff\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW2jQB6FBv:iERlsXVx6xci2MBuSvGTZw\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:838410","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/838410.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=838410"}}],"title":"FIC: Innocent When You Dream (Steve Rogers\/Bucky Barnes) PG","published":"2012-10-29T17:12:07Z","updated":"2012-10-29T17:13:51Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"fanfiction: steve rogers\/bucky barnes"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"avengers"}}],"content":"<b>Title:<\/b> Innocent When You Dream<br \/><b>Summary:<\/b> \"Relax. I'm not after your virtue.\" Continuation of \"Romeo Is Bleeding.\" Rentboy AU.<br \/><b>Fandom:<\/b> Captain America Movieverse<br \/><b>Pairing:<\/b> Steve Rogers\/Bucky Barnes<br \/><b>Rating:<\/b> PG <br \/><b>Words:<\/b> ~800 <br \/><b>Spoilers:<\/b> None.<br \/><b>Warnings:<\/b> This is an AU in which Bucky has sex for money, though there is no actual sex in this story. (AGAIN.)<br \/><b>Availability:<\/b> <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/838410.html\" target=\"_blank\">LiveJournal<\/a> || <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/683610.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> || <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/works\/344539\/chapters\/976752\" target=\"_blank\">AO3<\/a> <br \/><b>Disclaimer:<\/b> Not mine. <br \/><b>Notes:<\/b> I offered up some wee ficlets in celebration of my 10,000th Tumblr post, and, to no one's surprise, <span style=\"white-space: nowrap;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/musesfool.dreamwidth.org\/profile\" target=\"_blank\"><img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/e2de2b2d458ba929d3bd584961d5a1b37383095fe3e4d141d008147ae521cf6b\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h02QCGVbdSgsfa9wzc2863DwUvDUA4DUR9vQ1cmDjQdwpRBB0Zjh0psVYBjDXS:kI1rxJGAkaydoCA0FlN5FA\" alt=\"[personal profile] \" width=\"17\" height=\"17\" style=\"vertical-align: text-bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;\" \/><\/a><a href=\"http:\/\/musesfool.dreamwidth.org\/\" target=\"_blank\"><b>musesfool<\/b><\/a><\/span> requested more rentboy!Bucky. So here it is!<br \/><b>Transformative Works Policy:<\/b> <a href=\"http:\/\/archiveofourown.org\/users\/DevilDoll\/profile\" target=\"_blank\">Can be found here.<\/a><br \/><b>Originally Posted:<\/b> October 27th, 2012<br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><b>Innocent When You Dream<\/b><br \/><br \/>Bucky sleeps a lot the first three days, sprawled face down in the middle of Steve\u2019s bed while Steve makes do with the couch. Then Steve is gone on Avengers business for the next two days, with the result that Bucky has been living with him for nearly a week before Steve realizes he actually doesn\u2019t sleep in any kind of established pattern at all.<br \/><br \/>When global crime-fighting isn\u2019t throwing his schedule into disarray, Steve gets up early and goes to bed late, rising refreshed and bright-eyed after only four or five hours. Bucky sleeps at random intervals, and for completely unpredictable lengths of time. Sometimes Steve wakes up at three in the morning to the sound of soft footsteps and the refrigerator being quietly raided, or the television in the bedroom painting a strip of soft blue light around the closed door. Once he even tip-toes into the bedroom in the late afternoon, nearly fifteen hours after Bucky went to sleep, and stands nervously over him until he\u2019s sure he can see his chest rising and falling, checking to make sure he\u2019s still alive.<br \/><br \/>But the dark smudges under his eyes start to fade, and the hollows behind his collarbones slowly fill in, and he stops looking so wary all the time. Being here is good for him. Steve wants it to stay that way.<br \/><br \/>Steve wakes in the dark, eyes snapping open before Bucky\u2019s even out of the bedroom, his entire body tense and still for a second until he processes where he is and who is there with him. This time, Bucky doesn\u2019t head for the kitchen, he heads right for Steve. Before Steve can even sit up or ask what\u2019s wrong, Bucky\u2019s lifting the blanket and crawling half on top of him, not even trying to avoid touching him. The couch isn\u2019t big enough to bother.<br \/><br \/>He says, \u201cBucky\u2014wait\u2014\u201d but he notices, distantly, that his arm is curling around Bucky\u2019s waist, one of his knees slotting itself neatly between Bucky\u2019s, so even if his brain is resistant, his body knows what it wants, or at least what Bucky wants. Bucky\u2019s head settles on Steve\u2019s shoulder, and Steve is aware that his own jaw is clenched tight, the muscles in his neck and upper back rigid and unyielding.<br \/><br \/>Bucky huffs a warm laugh against Steve\u2019s throat as he slips his arm across Steve\u2019s ribs. \u201cRelax. I\u2019m not after your virtue. I\u2019m just used to having someone else in the bed with me most of the time,\u201d he says. Steve\u2019s stomach twists a little thinking of all the strange bodies Bucky\u2019s molded himself against during the night. His hand tightens on Bucky\u2019s hip before he can stop it, which Bucky takes as encouragement, letting out a low, \u201cMmmmm,\u201d and burrowing in a little closer.<br \/><br \/>\u201cAll right,\u201d Steve says, as if it isn\u2019t already too late. As if he really has any say in the matter at all.<br \/><br \/>\u201cNot that I\u2019m not open to taking a run at your virtue,\u201d Bucky adds, the curve of his smile riding the words. His mouth hasn\u2019t touched Steve\u2019s since that morning in the bathroom, an embarrassing moment of weakness that Steve\u2019s brain can\u2019t seem to leave alone, especially when Bucky\u2019s voice sounds like this.<br \/><br \/>Steve doesn\u2019t bother to reply. He\u2019s getting better at not acting like he\u2019s being gutted every time Bucky makes it clear he\u2019s willing to\u2014<br \/><br \/>Bucky slides his hand up under Steve\u2019s T-shirt, and his thumb softly strokes across one of the ridges high on Steve\u2019s stomach, the one closest to his ribs, over and over again. Steve forces himself to not move, not even twitch. Bucky doesn\u2019t try to take it any further, and he doesn\u2019t say anything else, just seems content to touch him a little. For a few minutes it\u2019s absolute torture, and Steve imagines he\u2019ll never be able to sleep, but after a bit Bucky\u2019s breathing evens out and the touch slows, then stops.<br \/><br \/>Steve lets out a long, slow breath and finally allows himself to relax into the couch cushions, taking more of Bucky\u2019s weight. Bucky shifts slightly in his sleep, all the delicate angles of him\u2014hip, cheekbone, elbow\u2014melting pleasantly into the places where Steve\u2019s own body has made room for him. It feels wonderful. It feels a lot like something Steve could get used to, until sleeping any other way wouldn\u2019t feel nearly as nice.<br \/><br \/>That\u2019s a problem to worry about in the morning, he decides.<br \/><br \/>Right before he drifts off, he brings his hand up and slips his fingers into Bucky\u2019s messy hair. \u201cWhat am I going to do with you?\u201d he whispers against Bucky\u2019s forehead, but that\u2019s another problem best tackled in the daylight, so Steve closes his eyes and sleeps, warm and happy and needed.<br \/><br \/><b>The End<\/b><a name='cutid1-end'><\/a><br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/683610.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/f336caa506fa2b75843d02870ee83a6dab7f58861de2d6743491e669e21d734d\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW2jsB7lBv:KZWzkeNjGE3_J5-faqYGuw\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:838309","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/838309.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=838309"}}],"title":"Resistance was futile.","published":"2012-10-02T13:31:56Z","updated":"2012-10-02T13:31:56Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"teen wolf"}},"content":"Help I've fallen into Teen Wolf fandom and I can't get out."},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:838139","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/838139.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=838139"}}],"title":"Hugh Jackman as Wolverine","published":"2012-09-24T16:25:51Z","updated":"2012-09-24T16:25:51Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"wolverine"}},"content":"HOLY SHIT<br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/ic.pics.livejournal.com\/devildoll\/343506\/8282\/8282_600.jpg\" width=\"208\" height=\"300\" fetchpriority=\"high\"><br \/><br \/><br \/><br \/><img src=\"https:\/\/ic.pics.livejournal.com\/devildoll\/343506\/8282\/8282_600.jpg\" loading=\"lazy\"><a name='cutid1-end'><\/a><br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/683189.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/72b9406ca244144e67e5272c2a630fe48c8038d62f256defd33ff57f41546ece\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW2jwI51Bv:EvN3uitJDM4YTNsHRhISKg\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:837392","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/837392.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=837392"}}],"title":"Avengers again and again and...","published":"2012-09-01T03:19:39Z","updated":"2012-09-01T03:19:39Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"avengers"}},"content":"I went to see Avengers again tonight (number, um, 11) and while there was no new extra scene as had been speculated (hoped), it was really nice to see them all again, because I missed their stupid faces. <br \/><br \/>What was also interesting was how seeing the deleted scenes online changed how I saw the movie this time--little things that now have an extra layer. <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.tumblr.com\/post\/30629904700\/after-seeing-this-deleted-scene-now-you-realize\" target=\"_blank\">Steve and the waitress<\/a> would be an example, which I am linking to on my Tumblr because it is late and I am tired and I have to get up at 4:30am to go back to the horse show tomorrow, but...AVENGERS. \\o\/<br \/><br \/>I'm still so in love, you guys. So in love.<br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/682569.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/74930a04ce04f57216b333cbd1d3c5e32e7d1c50e5eb00fed328dac4ab3ad404\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW2zgG51Bv:n7OUrA23d_1WS1S5SGyr6w\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:devildoll:837223","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/837223.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/devildoll.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=837223"}}],"title":"Avengers back in theaters.","published":"2012-08-30T17:52:47Z","updated":"2012-08-30T18:03:16Z","category":{"@attributes":{"term":"avengers"}},"content":"Apparently the Avengers movie is going to be <a href=\"http:\/\/screenrant.com\/the-avengers-re-release-labor-day\/\" target=\"_blank\">back in theaters in the US for Labor Day weekend.<\/a><br \/><br \/>They're specifically reminding people to stay through the credits, which has us all wondering if there's going to be ANOTHER extra scene. (Iron Man 3?) <br \/><br \/><b>ETA:<\/b> OH GOD IT'S SHOWING AT MY THEATER. <br \/><br \/>I have the busiest weekend imaginable the next four days (horse show! Doctor Who! county fair!) BUT I WILL MAKE THIS HAPPEN.<br \/><br \/>[if I were at home you'd see a crazy excited gif here]<br \/><br \/><span style=\"font-size: smaller;\">Count von Count would like you to know that over at <a href=\"http:\/\/devildoll.dreamwidth.org\/682308.html\" target=\"_blank\">Dreamwidth<\/a> this post has <img src=\"https:\/\/imgprx.livejournal.net\/9237753cca0064761e567d4a7f855d21b1080395a12328e1143e63f9c7efd76a\/P2WlxyVijxKgh2tu9ctUUUMdsf-ah7h0yFmVCbZBitHe5BHQgcnrB1ghT1N4EUFi-UFakTDbbRdGEkcCiUcu7EMd1nPKLuCN6VVcqFdlIwbpHuqd65cW2z4A5lBv:9X1EOUER5mGDxbgkkouiOw\" width=\"30\" height=\"12\" alt=\"comment count unavailable\" style=\"vertical-align: middle;\" \/> comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!<\/span>"}]}