and they lived

[bossymarmalade]

[Ring Txt] I’m still mad, fyi
[Ring Txt] no not mad. frustrated.
[Ring Txt] and something else, I don’t know what. foolish? inadequate? uncouth?

[Txt] I’m still mad, or maybe it’s frustrated too. Idk.
[Txt] Being able to joke with you and be upset ≠ mutually exclusive
[Txt] So I’m swinging by, and then we can continue being upset and something else together.
[Txt] Then I’ll start back on the diaries.

[Ring Txt] that’s a good idea. I’ll be here.
fifteen minutes later…
[Ring Txt] and y’know I can do the whole impulsive whirlwind getaways too
[Ring Txt] first class on Air Rayner, penthouse suite in Hotel Rayner and personal driver with Limousines by Rayner. the works. you’d just have to pay for food.
[Ring Txt] but yeah jsyk I can be extravagant-ish spontaneous like that with you if that’s what you want

Zee doesn’t respond to Kyle’s messages, leaving her replies for when she arrives at the apartment.

She finds Kyle sitting on the couch, and leans over the back of it to catch his attention. She drops a small stack of her mother’s diaries onto the seat below her, and leaves her arms stretched out along the couch. A large majority of her skin is sun kissed- looking like what Kyle described as sugar cookie- while her shoulders (as well as her nose and forehead) have soaked up a splotchy sunburn.

"I didn’t want to do the runaway thing with you because I was upset with you," she explains softly, "But- you’re right. I don’t consider you enough when I’m making my getaways, and I have no excuse for that."

Kyle is half-dozing on the couch, after a bout of feeling somewhat bad for being so lazy over the holidays and yet also feeling suspicious that Miss Meow is draining his energy. The cat is curled up next to him, snuggled against his hip.

He wakes when Zee shifts her weight onto the couch; he watches the diaries drop and slide against each other, then looks up to her long, graceful arms and her dark tumble of hair as she leans over.

( if not happily, then ever after )

a toast, a toast

[bossymarmalade]

Bruce arrives at the Star City Penthouse by zeta, in a black t-shirt, leather jacket and jeans, boots muddied around the edges (but he doesn’t track any of it in), and a bottle of champagne in hand.

Ollie has been dawdling around in his office, attempting to sort out what in the stacks of mail he’s let pile up he can actually throw out and what he should keep. The same goes for a number of newsletters from organic market shares and the like, and he’s standing in the middle of his office surrounded by the garish chairs he’d gotten (one for each member of WSQ) piled high with papers. “Oh thank god,” he says when he sees Bruce, going over and kissing the other man while simultaneously grabbing for the champagne. “I was just about to set fire to the room and solve my problems that way.”

Bruce returns the kiss, softly at first, before he can release the bottle of champagne, and when his hands are free, he moves one around Ollie’s waist, the other curling around his jaw and holding him in place against him, as he deepens the kiss.

Ollie settles a bit, when Bruce holds him still for kissing, and he rolls the champagne bottle against one shoulderblade through the leather jacket as he throws his arm around Bruce. “It’s good to see you too,” he says, when they pause for breath. “I hear you’ve been working yourself to the bone.”

Bruce smirks, lingering closely to Ollie’s mouth, his grip unrelenting. “When am I not,” he drawls, lowly, licking his lips before he kisses Ollie again, and determines. “..pineapple.”

Ollie nods, an answer to both remarks, and licks his own lips too as if confirming. “Yup. Was one of my resolutions, you could say. Isn’t that delightful of me?”

Bruce doesn’t answer Ollie, and move his hand from around his jaw to his temple, fingers smoothing into the hair above his ear, pushing behind it. “..alright?” He asks, softly, not adjusting their proximity.

( triangulation and the new year )