Bound to Happen (Part 11), Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader
Prompt: The chronicles of being Lin’s assistant to maybe something more.
Author’s Note: Okay guys, this is it! The final chapter of this series! I might return to this universe one day - maybe you guys could ask me questions and I can write drabbles as a response? But otherwise, I’ve reached the end of my plot! Thank you for all the support and love. Siempre.
Warnings: The burn is over.
“I was thinking.” You started, hand making quick work of sawing the bread in front of you.
“Oh no.” Lin teased, bustling around the kitchen.
Dinner had become a semi-regular thing. About once a week you would spend nearly an hour in a brightly lit grocery store, arguing incessantly about what sounded the best. That night Lin had won with spaghetti. Lin won often.
“I’m trying to be serious here.” You waved the bread knife in his direction, effectively silencing any witty remarks he had ready. “We’ve slept together, what-”
“Are we counting orgasms or-”
“Shut up!” Lin giggled as you playfully reached over to swat at him. “We’ve spent the night together many times.”
“We have.” Lin seemed rather invested in his noodles at the moment, but he was fucking terrified.
This could easily be the conversation that ended it all. It was bound to happen, right? Two close friends sleeping together with no talk meant total disaster eventually. You would say you needed more and that he was holding you back from getting whatever more was.
He was always holding you back, it seemed.
“We need to figure out what we’re doing here.”
“Well, I’m making spaghetti.”
“I give us two weeks.” You finally settled on, halting Lin. His hands continued to work on dinner, but his brain was rushing through scenarios. “Two weeks to figure out what we’re doing. If we can’t sit and have an actual conversation about us then maybe it’s not worth the trouble.”
He watched for a second as you shrugged, continuing to busy yourself with the bread. An attempt at casual.
“I don’t need two weeks.” Was his immediate reply. “I’ve had almost twenty years to realize you are the love of my life.”
There was a moment of silence where no one moved. The light bubbling of the red sauce was the only sound in Lin’s vast house as you absorbed his exclamation and he watched on.
“That’s what I get for dating a writer.” You rolled your eyes as he gaped at you, flipping his gas stove off and sweeping you off your feet. “Lin!”
“Your boyfriend-” You grinned at the use of the term as the knife clattered out of your hand and onto the counter, “-was trying to be romantic and you rolled your eyes!”
“Put me down!” You shrieked as he continued to carry you away from the kitchen, “Our dinner!”
The couch cushion bounced as he tossed you off his shoulder.
“I have been waiting twenty years to call you my girlfriend.” He stopped himself to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, “Spaghetti can wait.”
It took Tommy exactly one day to connect the dots - he was always oddly perceptive when it came to Lin. He snickered when you showed up to a pick up rehearsal the next day, not on business.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing! It’s just, if you’re gonna tip-toe around everyone about your relationship with Lin, it would help if you didn’t wear a giant sign saying ‘Look at me! Lin’s girlfriend!’.” He shrugged.
“I don’t have a sign-”
“Not just a sign. Flashing lights. Confetti. The whole nine yards.”
You brushed his comments off. It was Tommy just being Tommy. Teasing, older brother Tommy.
Then Alex took note of a shift in dynamic. Then Chris, the least perceptive person in the room, asked you about Lin.
It was weird. Having this thing out in the open. Casual flirting all those years ago was one thing. Sleeping together was one thing. Having it public with stakes was another.
The fact that people had been clamoring for the two of you to get together for years wasn’t lost on you. The clenching in your stomach grew tighter. It was bound to happen. That’s what everyone told you. That’s what you convinced yourself.
You practically had worked yourself into a silent frenzy when there was a nudge at your side.
Lin, in all his stupid historical blouse glory.
“You’re thinking.” He squinted, “About me, hopefully? I know I haunt your every waking thought.” He grinned, nose scrunching and eyes crinkling.
Your eyes scanned him for a moment. The freckle that had developed on the dip of his nose with age. One that hadn’t been there in college. The light scar on his cheek, practically unnoticeable if you weren’t looking for it.
He told you of the high school theater mishap that caused it, giggling when he told you he hadn’t told the story to anyone. Not even his parents.
It was months of brushing off his dependence on you, years of rolling your eyes at the comments. It wasn’t until this moment that you realized you had been in love with him all along.
“Of course.” You sigh, allowing his arm to casually slink over your shoulder. He pulled you closer, you didn’t comment of the looks the entire company shot the two of you.
You didn’t even flinch.
“This probably isn’t the time to talk about it.” You took not of his hushed tone and stepped ever-so closer. ”What do you think about London?”
“It’s nice.” You tested the word on your tongue, “Why?”
“There’s an offer for me. A big one. It wouldn’t be until I’m done with this,” He gestured around the theater, at the actors who were slowly getting back to work. Lin would have to join them in a moment.
“Middle of next year? Have a month or so off. Move to London.”
Move. As in: Uproot and live there.
“I know it’s early. But I keep coming back to this contract and picturing myself there. It isn’t real unless you’re there with me.”
“Lin!” Called Alex, perched behind a piano with Leslie at his side. Lin nodded, starting to pull away.
“I’d have to look into some opportunities. See what foundations I can get involved in.”
“So you’ll think about it?” He was backing away, careful of stage hands perched in aisle ways.
“I can see it now: A true English breakfast in the morning, tea and biscuits in the evening, making sure underprivileged kids get funding while my man goes to work.”
Lin laughed at the picture, mostly because he had never been someone’s man before. Even with all the relationships he had hopped in and out of - he never felt like someone’s until that moment.
“I love you.”
You weren’t truly sure who said it. In all honestly, it felt like it was said a million times before. ‘I love yous’ hidden in coffee runs and desperately needed hugs of comfort and late night conversations.
You had loved him from the start, you confirmed, watching him stumble through rehearsal. He was half distracted with his eyes on you, always trying to make you giggle. He succeeded without fail.
You loved his stupid historical blouse and his Ja Rule growl. You especially loved the scar whose story only you knew.
You loved him and had no doubt in your mind that he loved you. If that meant moving to London for him, so be it. If that meant endless nights waiting up for him, so be it.
If that meant spending the rest of your lives together? Well, you could certainly work with that.