I lov your writing. Please write 43. falling in love with their best friend’s partner au
Oh, anon. You have fallen victim to the trap of the “ahumanfemale drabble”. There is no such thing. Only entire frigging fics because I can’t do what I’m damn well told. In any case, here it is. I hope you like it. - xoxo, ahf.
(Much love to @me-ladie for the alternative definition of “partner” and to @butihavejoy for the marvelous line toward the end about taking the lead. I love you both to the moon and back.)
Rafael Barba is gorgeous.
A masterpiece framed in lean muscle and bronze skin, a work of art in black fabric and thick, dark hair. His green eyes are bright and observant and his voice is an arrogant, endlessly arresting tenor. He moves with fluid grace that borders on aggressive and Sonny keeps waiting for the day when it ceases to steal his breath straight from his chest but it’s been three months and it hasn’t happened yet. He’s started to wonder if it ever will. Sonny can’t remember a time before he hung on the man’s every word, had been desperate for a glance or a few minutes of his attention. For three months he’s come to this room after his shift, for three months he’s brought him and Amanda dinner as an excuse to see him.
He’s pathetic, probably.
So in love it hurt him to think or breathe or even look in Rafael’s direction. Which happened a lot, considering that Amanda was his best friend and Rafael was her partner. Dancing partner, not… they weren’t dating. They were both competitive dancers, specializing in the tango. Amanda did it for fun in addition to running her own studio for kids. Rafael, as far as Sonny knew, only did the competition circuit and just… ceased to exist outside of competitions. This was his last year before retirement, Amanda’s last year before she quit competing to focus on her business, and the two of them were determined to go out with a bang - preferably a bang in the shape of a first place trophy to display in Amanda’s studio. Her sudden obsessive dedication to this was the only reason Sonny had ever met Rafael in the first place, having heard his name for years without ever meeting the man.
Sonny was introduced to Amanda Rollins almost ten years ago, as two halves of a blind date. Sonny was just getting his restaurant off the ground and Amanda was new to New York, looking to start over. The date had gone well - laughter, joking, arguing over sports. Amanda was gorgeous, funny, smart as a whip. He’d enjoyed her company immensely but when it came time to brave a goodnight kiss the spark just… wasn’t there. Not the way he wanted it to be, and Amanda seemed to agree with her grudging smile and shrug that suggested darn the luck. But they became fast friends anyway and had hardly parted since, supporting each other through businesses opening and struggling and beginning the slow trudge toward being successful. Sonny had never been more grateful for a person in his life because Amanda never did anything by halves, including friendship.
Which made him feel even more guilty when he realized that he’d never been very involved in the competition part of her career. He was making up for lost time, though. Feeding her every night and forcing her to go home when she was dead on her feet and her babysitter was due to leave in half an hour. It certainly was for Amanda, his best friend, and not the stunning man whose arms she spent every night in.
A fact that she seemed to take for granted, Sonny thought bitterly as he scaled the stairs to their rehearsal space.
Amanda, getting to feel all that lean muscle up close.
Amanda, getting to watch up close as sweat formed at his hairline and slipped effortlessly down the column of his throat.
Sam pressed his ear against the door, he could hear the music playing in her room. It had been playing for the last twenty-four hours, he was worried about her. It had been almost twenty-four hours since she had come out of her room.
Dean had tried a number of times to get her to come out, but she ignored his attempts. He tried all her favorite foods, but she wouldn’t even open the door. He had called and sent her texts, just asking if she was okay.
Dean was ready to go kick the door in after twelve hours, but Sam convinced him to leave her be. Now at the twenty-four hour mark, Sam found himself just as worried as Dean.
He knocked softly on the door. “Baby, please open I need to see that you’re okay. I’m worried about you. So is Dean, Cas, and Crowley…”
There was nothing, no movement, just music playing. There was movement behind him. Turning around, Cas stood there looking worried.
“She’s warded the room.” Sam’s eye’s widened, he stepped back, kicking the door in.
Rushing inside to find (Y/N), he came out with tears in his eyes. “She’s gone.”
Person B trying to teach Person A how to make cupcakes. Person A ends up dropping an egg on themselves, then throwing one at Person B for a sense of revenge. The whole process dissolves into both being covered in a mess of flour and eggs on the kitchen floor.
The vision had left Alex, in a word, frazzled. He and Ellie had spent the remainder of the weekend - after their dance - holed up in their room, not really talking about what had happened. Alex needed the time to process it, and Ellie had respected that need. So on Monday when he woke up and realized Ellie had the day off, Alex called in sick for the first time in a very long time and called Ellie to see if he could come over for breakfast so they could finally talk about everything. He picked up food on the way and went to her place, rapping lightly on the door when he got there. “Ellie?”
“There was a photo session where we chatted and he told me about his early days ballroom dancing all over Ireland and I told him about my cooking (Ellis writes cookbooks
for people with diabetes and blogs about rural life in Southern France
where he lives with wife Meredith). We went out to dinner one night
which was very pleasant (but) I wouldn’t dream of giving him advice,
he’s perfectly capable. He looks wonderful and he’s very good in it.“