For the first time in years, Fie smacked Liam’s hand away and flinched back so hard he ended up pressed against the front door. Liam sucked in a breath, trying to keep the hurt from his face; the tears from his eyes. They stung. So did his hand. But he’d expected this. One step back for every two forward. It had morphed into a kind of dance between them. A stumbling waltz that somehow could twirl into the most breathless perfection despite occasionally stepping on each other’s feet. But he’d gotten spoiled. The interruptions, the ‘may I cut in’s, sneered from disapproving lips that had once been so constant had died down for so long. Ever since the last family reunion. That cold morning when Liam had watched Fie punch his uncle in the face through a haze of pain and numbness…

Fie was quivering, body tensed like a deer on the edge of flight. And maybe he would flee. Run from this, run from Liam and their life together. Chased by the hounds of guilt and shame that’d been set into his soul as a child by the very people who were supposed to love him unconditionally.

Liam ached to comfort him. His body quivered with the desire to sweep the other man into his arms and pepper his face with kisses. But he knew in times like this Fie was a pressure cooker, crushed under the weight of repression and unstable. So Liam clutched at himself, keeping the few feet of distance.

“Family reunion didn’t go well then?” He asked, trying to sound airy but coming across as anxious. Fie finally looked up at him, his brown eyes dark and distant.

“Quite.” He said. His gaze returned to the hand he had slapped, expression opening to become even more haunted. His ever prominent dark circles looked especially stark against his pale skin.

“It’s okay.” Liam assured.

“No. No it isn’t.” Fie said. He rubbed his face with both hands and then pulled himself up straight. With a pang, Liam knew he would leave. Would disappear and come back wasted or hurt.

But he didn’t. Instead of stepping back, Fie stepped forward. His grip was tentative; soft, and with a tremble that turned into a convulsive shudder as he buried his face into the crook of Liam’s neck. Liam made a sound of surprise, his mind blank for a moment, but his body moved without need of direction. He clung to Fie, crushing him against his chest.

“I love you.” He murmered. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He wanted to drown Fie in the notion. He’d say it as many times as Fie’s family didn’t. As many times as they called him slurs instead. If he did, maybe one day, his boyfriend would believe it.

“Do you, uh, y’know…” The client turned towards him, sweat beading his brow. The smell of nervous B.O mixed uncomfortably with the lavender oil and ozone-tinged scent of magic. With a sinking feeling, Liam knew what was about to come next.

“Do you offer, um, happy endings?” The man finally stammered, making a vague up and down motion with one hand. Liam removed his own from the man’s back, banishing the magic and taking one large step away.

“Nope, sorry sir.” He said. His voice was that of all professionals tasked to work with the public; an impenetrable wall of politeness. Even so, the client attempted a breach.

“Only, I heard… I’m willing to pay extra.”
“I don’t do that.” Anymore.
“You sure? Hmm, your name IS Liam, right?”
“Out.”
“But I-”
“Out. Now. Or I’m calling your wife.”
“Are you backmailin-”

Liam raised a hand, and the palm still slick with lavender oil started to steam and glow. The man jerked from the table, clutching the towel around his waist as he hastily gathered his clothes and fled. Liam heaved a sigh.

“I got a Mastery in black magic for this?” He grumbled.

He was finishing up sanitizing the massage table a few minutes later when his coworker Patricia stuck her head in. “Oh good, you’re done early?” She asked. Then she leered. “Your cop is back.” She winked. Butterflies broke through the unpleasant tightness in Liam’s stomach. The cop wasn’t his in the strictest sense. Not yet anyway. But it was nice to hear.

“Tell me you didn’t try your horrible British accent on him again.” Liam said, trying and failing to play it cool as he increased his cleaning speed by the power of ten. Patricia laughed, twirling a finger around one of her bottle-blond curls. “Of course I did! I said pip pip ‘ello govena. He looked like he wanted to die, it was great.”

“If he leaves, I’m setting your station on fire.” He flicked his fingers in her direction, a couple sparks of flame fizzling out well before they crossed the room.

“It might be worth trying to send him to one of the girls. So we could hear him stammer excuses.” She said in a sing song tone, before launching herself out of the doorway and down the hall. Liam looked in panic at the wet massage table. But well, he still had plenty of magic to waste left...

Less than a minute later Liam paused by the door to the lobby, smoothing down his blond curls and trying to make it look like he hadn’t run the whole way. Patricia’s shoulders were shaking, in silent mirth, but he ignored her. After one last steeling breath he opened the door--

And the breath was knocked from his lungs. Figuratively.

Fieval sat there, his back ramrod straight as always, despite the chinz chair. The shop girls had all wondered how many tea parties he’d had to sit through to get such posh posture, or if his parents had made him carry books on his head, because honestly the only time they’d seen English people were in Disney and Hallmark films. But Liam knew a large part of it was nerves. Even sitting still Fie somehow thrummed with nervous energy, and when it was just the two of them his perfect poise rapidly shattered… Liam blinked his own thoughts away, and approached.

There it was. The second Fie noticed him, his shoulders hunched and his hands started to fidget with the hems of his sleeves. His foot began to tap.

The shop girls didn’t understand Liam’s interest. “You’re way out of his league, honey. It’s just the accent.” They’d said to him, after Liam had buried his face into a pile of fresh towels and yelled about how he was going to marry that man. “He’s so far in the closet he’s in Narnia. Not worth it, sweetie.” They’d said another time. It was the first time he’d wondered if they were blind or stupid. Looking at the pink already tinging Fie’s cheeks, he wondered it again.

As usual, Fie’s back was like rock under his palms. “You need to relax,” Liam giggled, “Your doctor would be mad if I made everything worse instead of better.”

“Sorry.” Came the mumbled response. The muscles somehow became even more tense as he tried to make himself relax. Liam shook his head. With a smile, he set to work. For the first fifteen minutes he was stuck using light and soothing strokes until he was able to coax Fieval into relaxing enough that he could work on the knots. There were a lot, despite it only having been a week.

“I’m going to start, okay?” The back of Fie’s head bobbed in a nod, some of the tension returning. Liam huffed a sigh.

The scent of ozone crackled into the air as he summoned fire to one hand, a thin layer of intense heat. He dragged it down along the injured part of Fie’s back, prompting a hiss and twitch. A second later Liam had dismissed the fire and summoned the energy of ice to replace it, soothing the area he’d touched. The process continued. Fire and ice. Fire and ice. Fire and ice, until Fie was a boneless heap on the massage table. Liam wasn’t sure if it was relaxation or exhaustion.

He didn’t really know the science behind it. Whether it was the magic itself or the rapid combination of hot and cold, but this form of massage was becoming the go to for repairing muscle damage. All he did know for sure was that he was glad to have picked up such a skill, even though he’d initially learned it for less than pure reasons.

Fire and ice. Fire and Ice. In a way, they were his red strings of fate.

I'll format later or w/e

1. Lightning bugs / Fireflies
2. Summer Blockbuster
3. Sweets & Treats
4. Sunburn
5. Humidity
6. Beach Day
7. Thunderstorms
8. Concerts
9. Cookout
10. Fireworks
11. Lazy Days
12. Fire and Ice
13. Water Fight
14. Amusement Park
15. Picnic
16. Fly a Kite (my free slot)
17. Carnival
18. Road Trip
19. Electrical Black Out
20. Bonfire
21. S'mores
22. Sunset/Sunrise
23. Stargazing
24. Vacation
25. Lemonade
26. Spooky Stories
27. Camping Trip
28. Hiking
29. Family Reunion
30. School's Out
link to main thread

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