Chapter Text
Something was going on with Nesta.
There'd been subtle hints of it for a couple weeks now, shifts in her behaviors that were only truly readable to those who knew her well. She'd been staying out later than usual, and when she did come home she was silent as a cat, almost as if she hadn't wanted her late arrival to be noticed by Elain.
It certainly wasn't unusual for Nesta to stay out late, or to even crash at Gwyn or Emerie's if the three of them had spent the evening out. On the nights she'd been out with her friends, Elain usually heard Nesta from the front hallway as she dropped her keys and shoes down before retreating to her room.
No, something was definitely up.
Elain knew her sister well enough to know that if she asked her outright, Nesta would entirely shut down. Her sister had a prickly disposition on the best of days, but when backed into a corner and confronted about something she was clearly struggling with she was more inclined to lash out, to slam down a wall of ice so thick you'd need a bulldozer to get through to her.
If she wanted to get Nesta to open up, it would have to be done with the careful patience of trying to win over a hissing feral cat, bent on clawing your eyes out.
It was Saturday morning when she finally approached Nesta. "It's October," Elain announced, dropping herself on the couch next to her sister.
Nesta, who'd been staring down at a dog-eared paperback, clearly not reading, judging from the lack of pages turned over the last several minutes, didn't so much as look up.
"Okay?"
Elain, not to be deterred, stared at her sister's profile for several quiet seconds. After a moment, Nesta let out a long sigh, dropping her book in her lap.
"Alright, I'll bite. Why am I supposed to care that it's October?"
"Because it's fall."
Nesta didn't so much as blink. "And?"
"And," Elain said, grinning broadly, "That means fall activities."
Nesta stared at her for a long moment before lifting her book again.
"No."
"No?" With a soft huff of indignation, Elain snatched the book from her sister's hands and tossed it on the cushion behind her. Nesta's sharp eyes flashed in annoyance, but Elain pressed on.
"Pumpkin patches, hay rides, corn mazes…"
"No."
"There are so many haunted houses, Nesta."
Her sister practically winced. "I hate those."
"Feyre doesn't," Elain pointed out. "And she's already said she's in."
"Fantastic." Nesta tried to reach around her for her book but Elain blocked her. "Take her then."
"It has to be the three of us."
"For god's sake, let me read in peace."
"It's Sellyn Drake, you've already read all of hers. And I will, once you agree to go at least some of my carefully curated calendar of appropriately autumnal activities."
"I don't want to."
"Remember when the three of us used to do stuff the other wanted?" Her sister sighed, exasperated, as Elain widened her eyes owlishly. It was a look that had, since childhood, usually helped get her way. Even Nesta had never been entirely immune to it. "Wouldn't it be fun to do that again?"
Nesta's gaze narrowed in consideration for a moment. Then, something like worry flickered in her eyes.
"Is this about Graysen?"
Graysen? Elain blinked in surprise, partly at her sister's question and partly in the realization that she'd barely thought about her ex in days. She hadn't even been tempted to pull up his profile, to check up on all the things he'd been up to lately.
Though, admittedly, she'd found better ways to distract herself.
Ever since their encounter in the art gallery, the memory of which was enough to bring a flush to her cheeks, she and Az had been texting throughout the day. She could hardly believe her own boldness when she read back through the messages and even pictures she'd sent him.
And that wasn't even getting into the things he'd sent her.
If you'd asked her six months ago what she was into, Elain probably would have blushed and stammered that stuff like that was private. If pressed, she'd probably have admitted that she liked being wooed, being held by strong arms, or sweet words whispered in her ear.
And while she would argue to the day she died that Azriel was one of the sweetest men she'd met, despite what he thought about himself, the things he said to her when it was just the two of them were positively filthy.
More baffling was the fact that she liked it. Even just thinking about the messages he'd sent her the night before, of the things he was going to do to her when they met up this weekend…
"Elain?" She blinked, flushing as she snapped her attention back to her sister. Concern creased Nesta's brow as her sister leaned forward, placing her hand over hers. "If you need a distraction so you don't think about him…"
"Oh, no," Elain said, shaking her head. Nesta gave her a disbelieving look, but she continued on. "I mean sometimes I still miss him, of course. We were together for so long but… no, I just want to spend time with my sisters. With you and Feyre. We don't always have the time to do stuff together. I know we went to the party and her show recently but… I don't know. I thought it would be nice to do the kind of stuff we used to do. Just the three of us." She grinned. "Just think of how annoyed Rhys will be that we took Feyre to pick a pumpkin instead of him."
"Ugh." Nesta's nose wrinkled, but a smile tugged at her lips. "I do not understand what she sees in him, but I guess it would be nice to spend time with her without him dogging her heels. Fine. Pick one activity."
"Three?" Elain asked hopefully.
Nesta's eyes narrowed. "Two, don't push it."
"Deal." Beaming, Elain held out Nesta's book, which her sister snatched back immediately. "What are your plans today?"
Very few people would have noticed the slight stiffening of Nesta's shoulders, even as her face remained neutral as she opened back up to the page she'd been on. "Just reading," she said dismissively. A pause. "Drinks with… a friend later."
And there it was.
If it had been Gwyn or Emerie her sister was spending the evening with, Nesta would have said as much. She might have even gone so far as to try and invite Elain out with them as she had several times in the past. But Nesta's eyes remained carefully fixed on her book and away from Elain's gaze.
Nesta was going somewhere, possibly meeting up with someone, but she didn't want Elain - or anyone, she supposed, to know about it.
But none of that made sense to her. While her sister certainly enjoyed going out, she was hardly a social butterfly, preferring to keep to her tight-knit circle. Her sister was a difficult, if not impossible person to know. Even growing up with her, parts of Nesta had remained a mystery.
Through most of adolescence, Nesta had only one true friend, a girl named Clare Beddor who she'd swiftly lost contact with after high school.
The only friends Elain was aware of that Nesta spent any amount of time with were Gwyn and Emerie, and even with them, she'd taken years to open up to fully.
A guy then? That seemed more likely, but even then, Nesta had never been particularly serious about the men she went out with. She certainly wasn't bringing them home to meet her sisters, and she certainly rarely dated any of them for very long. Even Elain only had the vaguest of details about her sister's exploits, usually when Nesta sent her screenshots of various dating app accounts, usually accompanied by roasts about whatever terrible fish picture the men in question had chosen to include.
Elain pressed forward. "Oh? Anyone interesting?"
Another long pause. "No." The word came out a bit sharply as her sister turned a page. "Just a friend." Nesta's blue gaze shifted to Elain. "Why do you ask?"
Elain rolled a shoulder, settling back against the couch. "Just curious. You haven't really mentioned any new friends in a while."
Steel blue eyes narrowed as Nesta closed her book, setting it in her lap and folding her hands over it. "Speaking of friends," her sister said with a deceptive calmness that immediately raised alarm bells in Elain's mind. "You've been making a few of your own."
Azriel.
Her sister didn't even have to say his name. Elain knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Nesta knew something was going on.
But exactly how much Nesta knew, that she didn't know. Azriel had told her himself that he had a bit of a… reputation when it came to women. It was possible Nesta had heard the same about him. That might account for the furrow of her sister's brow as she looked at her now. Her sister had always been protective of her, to the point of openly disliking Graysen for the bulk of Elain's relationship. In fact, she'd only just come around to tolerating him by the time they'd broken up.
When they'd broken up, every one of Nesta's suspicions about him, her little offhand comments throughout their relationship, had been vindicated. Her sister had never been so cruel as to point out that she'd told her as much, but Elain had seen the hint of it in the months after, in the way Nesta had watched her as though half expecting her to fall apart at any moment.
She didn't even want to think about what Nesta would say if she knew Elain had been sleeping with one of Rhys' friends, especially once who had a known reputation with women. A part of her bristled at the thought of it, of the things Nesta might think about him without even knowing him at all.
And another, more awful part of her, didn't want to think that her sister might have been right with whatever judgement she'd render.
But if Nesta had known for certain that something was going on between them, she'd have said so already. Elain couldn't imagine Nesta liking any of Rhys' friends, given the way she complained about Feyre's new interest in him.
Elain willed her voice to sound casual. "Feyre's friends?" Nesta's eyes observed her quietly. She forced herself not to look away as she affected a shrug. "They're nice, I like them."
"I can tell," Nesta said, her voice as smooth as a still, glassy lake. "You and Azriel seem quite friendly."
"He's nice," Elain said as neutrally as possible.
"Nice," Nesta said, rolling the word over her tongue in consideration before finally smirking. She huffed a laugh. "You can just say he's hot, Elain. I've got eyes too, you know. Nice indeed."
Elain's mind worked to find a reasonable excuse, well aware that the scarlet of her cheeks had already given something away to Nesta, but her sister was already reaching for her book, still cackling. "You can stop opening your mouth like a fish," her sister smirked. "He's objectively gorgeous. And it wasn't exactly subtle the way he practically fell over himself helping you with your coat at the Prick's party." Nesta's eyes flickered over Elain, briefly softening. "It's a good sign don't you think," her sister continued, a bit more gently. "Finding someone else attractive after moping over that bastard for months?"
It was, and Elain had considered as much. For a moment, she wanted to confess all of it to Nesta, about Azriel and the time they'd been spending together. How she was pretty sure she was in danger of developing strong feelings for him even though he himself had told her it was a terrible idea. How there were moments she could almost delude herself into thinking he felt at least a little bit of it back. How she wasn't sure if the thought of it thrilled her or terrified her.
But she couldn't say any of that, not without immediately drawing Nesta - and possibly Feyre's - immediate attention. There was no way she could see her sisters approving of it, of rushing headfirst into what was functionally a casual fling and fooling herself into thinking it was anything more.
It might have been stupid, but she wanted to be selfish just a little bit longer, even if it hurt her in the end.
"Just be careful." Her sister's voice cut through her thoughts and Elain glanced back over to see Nesta reaching for her book again. "When they're as beautiful as he is, they almost always have a mountain of baggage to make up for it." Her sister's eyes flicked up at her. "And I don't want to see you hurt again."
-----
Carver's was something of a Velaris institution, sitting on the outskirts of the city, just off the highway heading to Fort Windhaven, the military base just south of the Illyrian mountains. Large faded billboards lined the highway, as they had for years, encouraging people to visit 'Velaris's favorite amusement park for over 50 years!'
The park itself had seen better days. Even when Azriel had come here as a child, the park had shown subtle signs of deterioration in the form of chipped paint and dated carpeting. While the family who owned it had done their best to modernize aspects of the park, updating aging bumper cars and adding in a laser tag arena a couple decades prior, other parts of Carver's still retained some of their questionable vintage charm.
"That is," Elain said, her voice soft and unfailingly polite, "the most disturbing mascot I've ever seen."
Azriel chuckled, looking up at the entrance sign at the mascot in question, a cartoon character of a boy of around eight who had served as Carver's mascot since its inception, decades prior. As a child, Azriel and his friends had used to swear that the cartoon, with its unnaturally blue painted eyes, watched them when they moved, and they would often run to different points in the parking lot just to check if the character was watching.
As an adult, Azriel now knew it to be nothing more than an artist's trick, but as a child he'd been a little more willing to entertain the idea of a haunted cartoon watching his every move.
"Wait until you see the statue," he told her, reaching for the door handle to open it for her. "It's going to give you nightmares for weeks."
Elain shuddered but a smile tugged at her lips as she walked through the door. "Sounds romantic," she teased.
The arcade hall just inside the entrance was buzzing with activity, full of people and loud flashing arcade machines. Along a side wall, some teenagers were locked into what appeared to be an especially competitive skee ball match. In the food court, kids ran around tables full of pizza and birthday party gifts while their frazzled parents looked on. At the far back, another set of glass doors led out into the grounds of the park, where small groups of people played mini golf or headed towards bumper cars and batting cages.
"I've never been here," Elain remarked, her eyes skimming along a row of racing games. "I'd seen the signs along the road but…"
Her voice trailed off, and he tried not to hear the question in the but. It was, admittedly, a strange choice for a date, if that's what they could even call this. He wasn't really sure what you were supposed to call going out with the girl you were sleeping with when both of you had also acknowledged that what you were doing wasn't dating, that it couldn't be for a myriad of reasons.
He knew all those reasons. He just didn't like any of them.
But he also knew, when they'd decided to hang out this weekend, that she wouldn't have been expecting him to take her to what was fundamentally a family amusement park. She'd likely have been expecting something along the lines of meeting up for drinks before going back to one of their places so he could bury his face between her legs until he had her begging him to fuck him.
It was a playbook that had worked well enough for him in the past, but it felt insufficient to him all the same. And so he had, for what might have been the first time in his adult life, chosen something a bit different with a woman he was interested in.
"I practically grew up here," Az admitted. Her eyes slid over to him and she smiled. "My mom took me, whenever we had a little extra money. I would blow it all on the shooting games. When I was in high school," he nodded towards the ticket window where a bored teenager tapped away on their phone in front of a wall full of stuffed animals and other assorted prizes. "I worked that prize booth right there."
Elain looked over, following his eyesight. Her lips curved into a smile. "Please tell me you wore that same uniform," she said, pointing at the distracted teenager's bright yellow shirt.
"Unfortunately," Azriel admitted, earning a laugh of approval. "But before you get too curious, I've burned every picture."
"Too bad," Elain said, lips still twitching.
He slipped his hands in his pockets, glancing around the arcade and allowing, for a moment, some of his oldest memories to come back, some of the few he had from his teenage years. "Sometimes if things were really dead the owners would let me use tokens to play whatever games I wanted."
Elain smiled gently. "That was sweet of them."
"I think they felt sorry for me," Azriel admitted. "Me and my mom had been coming for years and they knew we didn't have any money. I'm pretty sure they didn't even need the help when I applied but they hired me anyway and let me take whatever pizza didn't sell in the food court home for me and my mom."
He was careful not to look at her as he spoke, but he could feel her eyes on the side of his face, watching him as she silently listened. Stepping towards a token kiosk, he fed a few bills in before retrieving the tokens.
He placed half of the tokens in her hand before lifting his eyes to her with a smirk. "I should probably warn you," he said, dropping his voice low. "I become a competitive monster when I play these games."
Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "That bad?"
He laughed. "Pretty bad. It's worse when Rhys or Cassian come. Mor and Amren flat out refuse to come with us anymore. The last time we were all on the bumper cars together got so intense that I'm pretty sure only the fact that I still know the owners kept us from getting kicked out entirely."
He was rewarded with a laugh as Elain rolled the tokens over in her hand. "Maybe something a little less destructive then," she suggested. "How about skee-ball?"
He smirked, lifting his hand in the direction of the tables. "Lead the way."
-----
Azriel had not been kidding about his competitive streak.
She was pretty sure he'd gone easy on her at the skee-ball table, allowing her at least a few hits back and forth before sinking the shots with a beautiful efficiency that had left her, despite her best efforts to remain polite, scowling.
Elain had been rewarded with a devilish smirk that was almost breathtaking.
She'd fared better in laser tag, managing enough stealth to step out of the shadows without him seeing her enough times to land a respectable number of shots. But even there, he'd won, stealing up when she'd least suspected it, silent as a shadow. He appeared particularly fond of letting his hand ghost the curve of her hip before darting off around another corner, in pursuit of one of the other players.
Vindication had finally come at one of the claw machines where, after dropping a frankly absurd amount of money trying to win her a stuffed frog, Azriel had stepped back with a scowl only to watch in astonishment as Elain herself managed to snag a stuffed owl on her first try.
"For you," she told him, transferring the squat gray owl to his open hands. "I expect you to take exceedingly good care of him."
"I think I better," he murmured, his fingers sliding along hers as he took the stuffed animal. Transferring the owl to one hand, he slid his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her in for a slow kiss.
His mouth was surprisingly tender against hers, the kiss so different from the hidden, heated ones they'd exchanged thus far. His tongue teased her lips, insistent, and she parted for him. A soft whimper escaped her throat and she felt his hand squeeze lightly at the back of her neck, even as he answered the sound with a low groan of his own.
When he pulled back, his nose grazed hers for just a moment. "Just to be safe," he murmured. "I think you might have to check in on his well-being on occasion. To make sure he's properly cared for and all."
"I wouldn't want to intrude," she murmured, her thoughts growing hazy as his hand teased the baby hairs at the back of her neck.
"Not an intrusion at all," he murmured, lips grazing hers again. She felt him step closer, his musky cedar scent wrapping around her in a lover's embrace. "Come over any time you like."
"Dangerous offer," she murmured, twining her fingers through the loops of his belt. "You might not be able to get rid of me."
She'd meant it as a joke, but even as she said the words, she regretted them. It was so easy to forget, when they were spending time together like this, that there wasn't anything serious between them. It was easy to forget that they weren't just like any of the other couples here on a weekend date, taking advantage of the nice autumn weather to play a round of minigolf or simply hold hands as they walked around the park, trying out the various rides or games.
It was so, so dangerously easy to forget a lot of things when she was with him.
The thought shouldn't have bothered her. She'd never been under any illusions that things with them were at all serious, and even if there was a chance they could have been, she still wasn't sure it was a good idea to jump headfirst into anything when only a few short weeks ago she'd felt nearly catatonic with grief over another man.
No, no matter how good she was feeling about Graysen and his lack of presence in her life, it was still too soon to jump into anything else with anyone. It wouldn't have been fair, using someone else as a tool to get over him.
Isn't that exactly what you're doing with Az, the hateful part of her brain whispered.
It's different, she insisted back, even as she fumbled to find the reason why.
Nesta had been right to be concerned about her. They all were, Elain had never seen clearly when it came to the people she cared about. She'd missed all the signs that Graysen had been losing interest in her, to the point that she'd held onto hope that things would somehow, somehow work out even when it had been clear to everyone else that their relationship was long past dead and buried.
She simply couldn't trust herself to see clearly. Azriel had been honest with her from the start about who he was, in a way Graysen had never been capable of.
But even with that direct honesty she still found herself looking for something that couldn't be there, some promise he'd not given her. She couldn't trust herself not to fall for another man who, when it came down to it, would never want her the way she needed.
No, she needed to be more careful.
If her comment had bothered him at all, he showed no sign of it. He merely huffed a laugh, pressing his lips to her forehead in a quick, surprisingly chaste kiss. "I'm pretty sure it's going to be the other way around."
-----
After a great deal of deliberation over slices of greasy pepperoni pizza, they had finally settled on Douglas as an appropriate name for the stuffed animal. The stuffed owl had sat in Elain's lap the entirety of the drive home while they'd talked about their respective childhoods.
They'd both grown up poor, in family situations that were dysfunctional for different reasons. Her parents had passed away some years ago, while his both still lived, though he hadn't spoken to his father in years.
When he'd mentioned his father in passing, she fell silent for a few moments and he could almost hear the curious gears of her mind working before she spoke again, softly.
"You've mentioned him before," she said carefully. "But you don't talk to him at all?"
Instinctively, he tensed, a reaction he always had whenever people asked about his father. It had been years since he'd discussed the subject with anyone but his mother, and even Cassian and Rhys only knew the bare bones of it.
"No," he said.
"I'm sorry," she almost whispered and he glanced over to see her looking down as she toyed with one of the owls wings. "I didn't mean to pry, you've said before it's a sore subject."
"It's okay," he said, sliding one hand from the steering wheel to squeeze her leg. "It's just… it's not a pretty subject. It's not something I want to burden people with."
She was quiet for another moment before he felt her hand close over his, twining their fingers. "I'd be happy to listen," she said carefully. "If you ever wanted someone to talk to about it."
For a moment, he weighed the possibility of it, of discussing a subject he hadn't allowed himself to dwell on in years. It had never gone well in the past when he'd done so, and there had been times even the mere thought of his father, of the things he'd let happen to Azriel under his own roof, had been enough to drag him back into that same emotionless black pit of despair that had constituted most of his early years.
He imagined the way she would listen to him, patiently, as he told her about the failed attempts to reconcile with his father, of the visits to his father's home, how things had been okay until they hadn't been.
How he'd ended up with the burns on his hands.
But he could also imagine how her lovely brown eyes would fill with pity - and horror - and he just… he couldn't stomach the idea of her looking at him like that, like a broken thing, even if that was what he truly was. He couldn't stomach the thought of the idea of him changing in her mind, the distance it might put between them.
He knew she'd understand, but he also knew she'd never look at him the same way again.
He gave her a tight smile, one that he knew didn't reach his eyes. "Maybe another time," was all he said. If she was disappointed, she said nothing, her eyes flickering over his face as though trying to read what story was etched there.
The car was silent for a few minutes as they entered Velaris. "I've been thinking about what we discussed," she said softly, fingers still picking at the wings of the owl. "About us. The… sex."
His hand flexed on the steering will and he kept his eyes focused on the road and away from her, anticipating the words that were about to follow. This, he knew, was where she was about to call things off, and he wasn't sure he could blame her.
"Oh?" he asked, feigning a casual tone even as something in his chest constricted at the thought that she'd finally come to her senses, that it had settled into her brain that spending any amount of time with him was more trouble than it was worth.
"I want…" she began and he drew in a breath. "To establish a few ground rules."
He blinked before glancing over at her curiously. She was still looking at the owl in her lap, her cheeks pinkening in embarrassment. "Just…." she exhaled slowly. "If we're going to do this, if we're going to be… casual about this, there are a few things I need." A pause. "So neither of us gets hurt."
"Okay," he said carefully.
"I just don't…" Her voice took on an uncharacteristically frustrated note and he wished, for a moment, that he could hear her thoughts, to understand what she was thinking. "My last relationship ended badly," she finally said. "Things got really muddled at the end there and I wasn't doing well and I just… I need some ground rules in place if we're going to keep doing… whatever this is."
"Alright."
He sensed her finally allow herself to look at him as his attention was focused on driving back to his apartment. "First rule," she said. "We don't drag things out. If either of us wants to call it off for any reason we can do that. I don't want there to be any mixed messages. If it's over, it's over," she said.
"Fair enough," he said, mulling the emphasis she'd put on the words 'mixed messages.' He'd heard bits and pieces about her old relationship, enough to put together a picture of a guy who hadn't known what he'd wanted and who'd led her on to an almost cruel point.
He was pretty sure if he ever met Graysen Nolan in the flesh he'd be half inclined to deck the guy on principle.
"Second rule," Elain began. "If either of us starts sleeping with someone else-"
"I'm not sleeping with anyone else," he interjected.
"But if we start," she said and that tightness was back in his chest, at the things she must think of him, the ideas he himself had planted in his mind about his character. "We just… tell each other. We're not together, we don't owe each other anything, just… if you sleep with someone else, I want to know. For health reasons. And I'll tell you the same."
Jealousy, ugly and cruel, flared in his chest at the thoughts of anyone else's hands on her, of anyone else's lips drawing those perfect breathy moans from her body. "Got it," he forced himself to say. "No problem with that."
"Good," she said, quickly, a little breathlessly as though the topic had been as uncomfortable for her as it was for him. "Last rule, and it's one we've discussed before but… it's just sex. I don't want to think…" She swallowed. "Like I said, I don't want things to get muddled. Emotions. It's just easier if we're on the same page"
Something hung heavy in the air between them and he couldn't stand the feel of it, the awkwardness and tension that had never existed between them since they'd met. Her rules were fair, certainly nothing he wouldn't have expected under the circumstances. But he could tell even voicing them had taken something out of her, some effort that he didn't truly understand and was desperate to delude himself into thinking it was something he was almost certain it wasn't.
She's trying not to get hurt, you absolute idiot, he told himself. And she's right to protect herself. You've only ever fucked things up before, why would this be any different?
He pulled to a stop outside his place, placing the car in park before unbuckling his seatbelt and turning towards her. Her eyes widened as he placed his hand on her cheek, pulling her forward.
Her eyes were wide, the brown vibrant and lovely in the light of dusk.
Gods, sometimes she was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her.
He had no way of knowing how long things would play out with them, knowing that someday, inevitably, he'd manage to disappoint her the way he always disappointed people. And when that day came, he wouldn't blame her for walking away, the way he didn't blame her for establishing now that it could never be anything more than sex between the two of them.
The only thing he'd ever been any good at anyway. If this was all he got, he'd accept the scraps like the starving beast he was.
"I agree," he said, his thumb tracing a slow line down her chin.
As if to seal the promise, he leaned forward, pulling her lips to his. She was immediately pliant, returning his kiss with a surprising hunger, one he was ready to be consumed by.
She drew away, her eyes heavy lidded as they looked up at him. "Now that's settled," she said, voice low and husky. "Take me inside?"