A/N: Welcome to BixCo Week, everyone! I hope you guys enjoy the next few days of these two goobers. I decided to do this differently than I'd originally planned. Most of my inspiration to write for these two revolved around their college years, and I figured I might as well just fuck with the order of the prompts to make it a more chronological story. After BixCo week is finished, there may be a few more chapters to get posted, and those will not necessarily be in chronological order. Because of that, please keep an eye on the ages that are given at the beginning of each chapter. Those will be your guide on when things happen in the timeline.

Erik is 19. Bickslow is 21.


Cobra's eyes narrowed slightly while looking at the enormous black pickup truck before him. He and Bickslow had been a dating for nearly six months, and this was the first time he'd seen just what his boyfriend actually drove. Considering they were in college, and pretty much everything was in walking distance, there really was no point in driving anywhere more often than not. But it was Bickslow's birthday, and Cobra had been invited to ride along with him down to his grandmother's to celebrate.

His stomach had nearly dropped out of his ass when Bickslow had asked him. In all of his dating years, not one person had wanted to take him home to meet the family. She was pushing eighty, from what he'd been told, so he could understand why Bickslow would want to spend it with her. It was just surprising that he wanted Cobra to be a part of that as well.

Part of him hoped that this was a good sign, that Bickslow was really serious about them being together.

"Are you gonna stand there all day?" Bickslow laughed when Cobra jolted, leaning across the seat to look at his tanned boyfriend through the open window. "We've gotta get going, Cobra. It's a two hour drive, and we'll probably be there past dark."

Cobra rolled his eyes and wrenched the door open, then hopped up into the truck. He really didn't know that much about trucks in the first place - honestly, who fucking cared? - but he'd never pictured Bickslow being one that would actually own one. It wasn't really a practical choice for living in the city. He buckled up and watched the scenery going by as they got further and further from the dorms.

"So, I should probably tell you some stuff," Bickslow said once they'd made it to the highway.

"Do you have an axe in the bed, and you were waiting until I couldn't jump out and run to tell me you're planning on gutting me and crawling inside my body like a fucking Tauntaun?" Hearing Bickslow's loud burst of laughter that was more cackle than anything else, actually helped to ease Cobra just a little bit.

"No," he said once he'd calmed down. "No Tauntaun-Cobra sleeping bags."

"Good, because you're taller than me. It wouldn't work." He let out a slow breath when Bickslow's hand found his own, their fingers easily intertwining on his lap. "What do you need to tell me?"

Bickslow glanced over to find bright indigo eyes gazing at him. "Well, my Memaw is kinda old fashioned."

Old fashioned. That really didn't sound good.

"She's a sweet little lady though. Just… really religious, I guess?"

"You guess?" Cobra didn't have an issue with religion. Not one bit. Just because he was intelligent enough to not put all his worries on some dude sitting in the clouds, didn't mean other people couldn't.

Bickslow chuckled, but it was nervous. He squeezed Cobra's hand lightly, except he couldn't tell who it was supposed to reassure. "Okay, she's really religious. She'll make us pray before eating, head down and eyes closed and holding hands. She might offer to let you say grace before we eat, but you can just tell her that you're an atheist, and she won't push it. She'll still make you bow your head though."

"Okay…" That didn't sound too bad. Why was Bickslow making this out to be more nerve-wracking than it needed to be?

"No cursing," Bickslow continued.

"What the fuck?"

"Old fashioned," he said. "I doubt she'll wash your mouth out with soap like she used to do with me, but I'd rather not chance it."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

"Cobra…"

He sighed and rolled his eyes, his head dropping back to the headrest. "Fine. I'll watch my language. Anything else?"

"Yeah…"

And then he hesitated. And Cobra was left wondering why Bickslow's hand tightened around his once again. Why, when he looked over at his boyfriend, he could see the concentration in his pinched brow. "You gonna tell me?"

"Y-Yeah…"

That really did not fucking bode well for him. Cobra was sure of it.

"Memaw doesn't… Well, she doesn't know she's meeting my boyfriend."

Stomach to asshole commencing. "She…" Why in the hell wouldn't Bickslow tell her about Cobra coming along? What if he wasn't really welcome at all? Not just as the boyfriend, but as a fucking person in general. What if she wanted it to just be family? What if she wanted the only fruits around to be the ones picked from trees and sitting on the table?

"She knows you're coming," Bickslow said. "She just… doesn't…"

"Doesn't know we're dating," Cobra finished while pulling his hand from Bickslow's. The sucker punch to his gut was more painful than he would have imagined. Bickslow hadn't told his grandmother about them at all? So, was he just supposed to play the oh, we're just friends card? Bickslow hadn't seemed to mind all that much who knew they were together while on campus. He was the one who tended to sneak up on Cobra and rain kisses and playful nips along his ears and throat at random times, in random locations. Like, in front of the library in the middle of the day.

"Cobra-"

"No, it's fine," he said. It wasn't fine. He was fucking lying. Cobra knew it. Bickslow knew it. That splattered mosquito on the windshield fucking knew it. He wasn't alright with this bullshit, but it was Bickslow's birthday, and he didn't want to ruin it for him.

"I just-"

"I get it," he said. He really fucking didn't. Had the past six months meant so little to Bickslow? Sure, he'd never dated or kissed a guy before Cobra, but they were taking their time with it all. Cobra was fine with that. He'd just thought maybe things meant a little more than keeping it a secret from Bickslow's family.

"I mean, it's not like I was gonna call her up and say, 'Hey, so you know how I've been straight for forever? Well, I met this guy and he's got the cutest pointy ears-'" Cobra scowled over at Bickslow, making him chuckle. "'- and the sexiest little bubble butt, and now we're dating.'"

"Dick."

Bickslow chuckled again, reaching out for Cobra's hand while keeping his gaze on the road. "That's not something I'm gonna tell my Memaw over the phone," he said. "She's not gonna kick you out just because she doesn't approve, either."

"So, you're saying that I'm walking into some bullshit," Cobra muttered. Now wasn't that the story of his fucking life? And here he'd thought that spending time with Bickslow on his birthday was going to be something easy. Their whole relationship was actually pretty fucking easy, because he'd made sure Bickslow saw it that way. It was hard as hell for him, but he just wanted it to work out for a change.

There was so much Bickslow didn't know about, so much that Cobra wanted to tell him. But he couldn't. Because the last thing he wanted to do was scare him away. And Cobra was sure that at the first mention of a mental illness, Bickslow would book it.

"Memaw has no time for bullshit," Bickslow said. "She might be surprised by it, but…" He trailed off when he saw Cobra's knee shaking. It sucked that he was driving right then, because it was obvious that his boyfriend needed a little reassurance. "Baby, it's gonna be fine."

"I'm really not convinced it will be," Cobra said. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me this before?"

"Well, I…" Bickslow frowned in thought, carefully switching lanes to allow a semi-truck onto the highway from the upcoming on-ramp. That was a good question though. It had sort of slipped his mind beforehand, and it wasn't until he'd seen Cobra walking out of his dorm and toward the parking lot that Bickslow had even realized that he hadn't told his Memaw about their relationship. "It kinda slipped my mind."

"How does something like that just slip your fucking mind?!"

He winced then. Before he could really come up with an answer, Cobra took a deep, steadying breath and spoke again, his voice softer, more controlled.

"It's fine," he said. "I know now, and we'll just deal with it later."

"Coby-"

"No, Bix." Cobra sighed and reached out to lace his fingers with Bickslow's again, then slowly brought their joined hands up to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles. "You told me now, so at least I know before we get there. I'll just follow your lead."

"Probably a good idea," Bickslow muttered. "The last thing I need is for Memaw to teach you some manners."

"Ass," Cobra chuckled. "Still, you probably should've told her before bringing me around for your fucking birthday."

"Well, I never said I was a genius," Bickslow said, his lips lifting into a small smirk. "That's your job."

"Goddamn right it is."

Bickslow glanced toward the passenger seat to find Cobra smiling at him. His leg was still shaking out of nervousness, but he could see it while looking into those deep indigo eyes. He might have been worried about what their day was going to bring, but he was willing to give this a shot. Maybe it was just that Cobra didn't want to spoil his birthday plans. Maybe he was just trying to go with the flow.

Whatever the reason, Bickslow really fucking appreciated what he was doing. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"You can make it up to me later," Cobra said softly. Bickslow shivered when he felt a light, playful nip at his knuckles. "I still haven't given you your present."

Bickslow's teeth sunk into his lower lip and he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. That had definitely not been the birthday present he'd been expecting from Cobra, but he hadn't been complaining when his shirt had been peeled off and he'd felt his boyfriend's lips caressing his skin for the first time. If it hadn't been for Laxus coming back to their dorm room, reeking of whiskey with some girl stumbling in along with him, Bickslow knew things would have gotten much heavier.

He could still remember what Cobra had looked like, kneeling between his legs with his tongue lapping at the quivering flesh just above Bickslow's jeans. He'd been fully clothed, and before Bickslow could even suggest they make it even, Cobra had said that it was all about him. His pleasure. Cobra had been the one to suggest taking it slow in the first place, and after six months Bickslow was actually pretty fucking curious about how different a blowjob would be coming from a guy.

And when he thought about seeing Cobra so ready to please him, so eager for his zipper to slide down, to reach beneath his boxers and start treating him like a Bickslow lollipop, he found that he really fucking wanted that. Much more than he'd wanted it the day before.

Bickslow had been a little unsure of what they were doing the night before, and Cobra had been reassuring and tender and - fuck, he'd been treating him like a virgin. He couldn't even be upset about it because, when it came to being with a guy, this was all new fucking territory. Cobra was experienced and Bickslow was floundering, aside from understanding the logistics of how gay couples got down and dirty. But being comfortable with it was something completely different, and he was so fucking thankful that Cobra was so damn patient with him about the physical side of their relationship.

Kisses here and there, hugging and cuddling in a coffee shop. That was all fine with him. It was when the clothes started flying that he maybe, kind of, locked up a bit.

But now, thinking back on the night before, Bickslow really really wished that Laxus hadn't come in and killed the mood. Now he wished that Cobra had been able to keep going, had gotten his pants and boxers off and blown his damn mind.

He wasn't sure how he knew it, but Bickslow was positive that Cobra would have had him screaming in ecstasy. Fuck, he really wanted that. Cobra's lips wrapped around him, his cheeks hollowing out as he sucked, the way he'd-

"Do me a favor and don't fucking crash!"

Bickslow blinked and quickly corrected his steering before he veered onto the shoulder. He ignored the shrieking honks from cars around them while evening out in the lane, then sent Cobra a shaky grin. "Sorry about that."

"What the hell were you thinking?!"

"I really want you to blow me."

Cobra's mouth opened, ready to continue ripping into him, and then he stopped. "Well…" That was a first. Bickslow sounded so breathless. When he looked over, he could see a light flush drifting across his cheeks. "Alright then."

"Like, a lot."

Cobra smirked. "You were thinking about last night." Bickslow nodded, and he chuckled while grabbing his boyfriend's hand, linking their fingers. He didn't pull Bickslow's hand closer to his lap, and instead left them hovering over the center console. "Fucking pervert."

"That's my best quality," Bickslow grinned.

"Mm, debatable." Cobra really thought Bickslow had a lot of wonderful qualities. Being a pervert didn't even make his top five.


"You're fucking kidding me," Cobra said, his eyes widening in shock as Bickslow turned right off the two-lane road onto a wide gravel path. He'd never really had the chance to leave Magnolia, and now that they were a couple hours south, down in the countryside, Cobra was left wishing he'd seen it before.

Bickslow grinned at the entrance to his grandmother's property, the two thick wooden poles rising from either side of the gravel drive with a large wooden banner arching over it that read Tamashi Ranch. "Home sweet home," he said.

Cobra didn't care what he looked like while he gaped like a fucking moron at the wide expanse of lush grass stretching on for miles. Woods dotted the land far off on the right, set a fair ways behind a three-story colonial house. To the left were several huge buildings, a barn, and what looked like a grain silo. Horses roamed in a large wooden pen with several men guiding them. He was tempted to roll down the window just to see how different it smelled. That would have been a step too far though. Probably.

"What do you think?" Bickslow asked softly.

"Fucking wow." They turned right when the gravel forked, obviously heading toward the house. The house where Bickslow grew up. Where his grandmother was waiting. Cobra found that he was equal parts terrified of meeting her, and enthralled by the lush green grass they drove past. Why he'd chosen to go to college in the city, Cobra couldn't understand. This was a fucking eden. A goddamn paradise.

Bickslow held back a chuckle when the passenger window rolled down and he heard Cobra take a deep breath. In that moment, he wished he wasn't driving, just so he could watch his boyfriend's first experience of the country air in its entirety, instead of sideways glances here and there. Sooner than he would have liked, he parked the truck in his old space in front of the garage. Cobra rolled up the window before he shut off the engine, and they stepped out together.

God, how he wished he could wrap his arm around those slender shoulders, pull Cobra close and kiss him. He was, however, very thankful that he'd told Cobra not to worry about what he was wearing - Bickslow, himself, had opted for a pair of weathered jeans, a newer pair of work boots, and a t-shirt, and Cobra was much the same. Those familiar combat boots were partially covered by a pair of black jeans, and he'd decided on a plain white tee that hugged him so fucking perfectly. It meant his boyfriend was just a little more comfortable, and that he (hopefully) wasn't worried about sticking out by being overdressed. Or underdressed.

"You seriously lived here," Cobra said, still looking around in amazement. "This isn't you pranking the shit out of me?"

Bickslow didn't have a chance to answer as the front door opened and his grandmother stepped out onto the covered porch in her familiar knee-length blue dress with little pink flowers printed on the seams. He gave Cobra a small, reassuring smile, then jogged across the lawn and up the steps to greet her with a tender hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Cobra's steps were decidedly slower. Up close, the house was even bigger than he'd thought. He knew Bickslow's family wasn't rich, not like Lucy's had been - and how she technically still was, now that she'd come of age and her father's fortune was released from her trust fund - but this was a whole other level of something he just couldn't imagine. The house was solid brick with elegant white pillars surrounding the bright red front door. The shutters on all the windows were covered in a fresh coat of forest green paint. There were two chimneys, one on each side of the house. Who the fuck needed two goddamn chimneys?

Still, he knew it would be rude to stand there, staring at his boyfriend's childhood home. He was a chemist, not a fucking architect or history buff. So Cobra forced his feet to move, not across the grass like Bickslow had done, but along the cobbled path leading to the porch.

"- sure you ain't eatin' fertilizer? You are growin' like a weed!" Cobra really should have expected Bickslow's grandmother to have that thick twang in her voice, considering they were on a goddamn horse ranch. Out in the country. He wasn't sure why Bickslow didn't sound anything like her though. Maybe he'd never had it at all, or maybe he made sure no one thought he was some country bumpkin just by hearing him talk.

"I'm the same as the last time you saw me," Bickslow chuckled. He turned when Cobra's quiet steps sounded on the stairs. "Memaw, this is C-"

"Erik," he said quickly, stepping forward and keeping what he hoped was a normal amount of distance between himself and his boyfriend. Good fucking lord was she tiny. Once he was directly in front of her, he realized that she couldn't have been more than five feet tall, even shorter than Lucy. She was thin from old age, but it seemed time had been pretty kind to her and gave her only the faintest of wrinkles around her bright green eyes and thin, plum lips. Her hair was pitch white and tied in a low braid. "It's nice to meet you."

Bickslow, thankfully, jumped right back in with a confused smile directed at him and his arm winding around her. "And this is my Memaw."

"Pleasure's all mine, Erik," she said, smiling wide and showing off what Cobra was sure were slightly yellowed dentures. Either that or she had the most insane dental hygiene to be able to have all of her teeth. "Now y'all come on in. Ain't no sense in standin' out here, roastin' like pigs on a spit."

"Yes, ma'am," Bickslow said, grinning. That was weird for Cobra to hear though, since he couldn't recall a single time he'd heard his boyfriend say ma'am. Maybe it was just the southern manners that had, apparently, been drilled into him over the years.

She turned and walked inside, her small shoes shuffling over the polished wood floor of the entryway. "Lunch is ready, so y'all wash up."

"Yes, ma'am." Bickslow took a step forward and glanced at Cobra while they made their way inside. "Erik, huh?"

And that was when he realized that he'd never actually told Bickslow his real name. Six months together, and he'd never done something so fucking basic. He removed his boots, following Bickslow's lead as he kicked off his own and set them on a low shelf just inside. "Yeah," he shrugged. It wasn't like he'd meant to keep it from him. It had actually just slipped his mind. He was so used to being around Gajeel, Macbeth, and Lucy, and they already knew his birth name. No one called him Erik except for them, but that was mostly because he was always introduced as Cobra.

"I like it."

And, oddly enough, hearing that made Cobra feel just a little better about deciding to spend Bickslow's birthday out in the middle of nowhere with his grandmother, who hadn't a clue what they really were to one another.


A short while later, the three of them were seated at the dining table, recovering from an enormous lunch. It was barely after one in the afternoon, but the old woman had made a full-on dinner. Steak and heavy gravy, mashed potatoes, fresh green beans, and cornbread. And the sweetest, most sugary tea he'd ever had. Cobra hadn't known what to think of the meal choice - maybe she was going a little batty in the head and didn't realize that it was only lunchtime? - but by the look on Bickslow's face, he wasn't going to question it.

Bickslow let out a heavy sigh and patted his stomach for effect. "Memaw, your cookin's good as all get out," he said. Cobra paused when he heard a very distinct accent leaking through his voice. "I'm full as a tick."

Cobra really had to agree with him though. He'd never had so much lard in food before - or any, for that matter - but fuck was it good. And filling. He'd only eaten a single helping, but that was more than enough.

"That's because you ain't eatin' enough in school," she said while standing and getting ready to take the plates from the table.

"Uh-uh," Bickslow said, quickly standing from his seat. He walked around the table, and placed a gentle hand on her thin wrist, smiling all the while. "You cooked. I'll wash 'em."

She smiled back and gave him a small nod, taking her seat again. Once the dishes were off in the kitchen, Cobra suddenly realized that he had no fucking clue how to talk to her. Or what to talk about. Did he bring up what he was studying in school? Did he wait for her to decide on a topic? Luckily, being a good hostess, she saved him from sweating and fidgeting in his chair.

"So, Bickslow tells me you're a scientist?"

"Yes, ma'am." It was easier than he'd imagined to emulate the manners he'd seen and heard Bickslow using during lunch. "I'm majoring in Chemistry. I really prefer focusing on toxicology though. Learning about poisons, the effects of acids on things."

She clasped her hands together on the table, her elbows never touching the surface, and smiled at him. Bickslow must have gotten his incessant smiling from her. "Now that's a fine thing to learn," she said. "Bickslow was never very good in his science classes. He had to take Biology two years in a row."

Cobra chuckled, glancing toward the kitchen and listening to the quiet clinking of dishes in the sink. "Trust me, I know," he said, looking back at her. "He has me tutor him at least once a week." He wasn't going to mention that those study sessions had, more often than not, ended up with them lying across the books and papers, kissing and groaning and more than distracted.

"Well, I'm glad he's got a friend willin' to help." Cobra shrugged and looked down at his own hands resting on the table. "So how did you and Bickslow meet?"

He wasn't sure if she knew that Bickslow smoked - he was already in the process of quitting, after all - but he figured it was alright to tell her some of the truth. "We met through a mutual friend, Gajeel. Then we ended up studying together in the library, comparing his easy reading materials to mine."

"Easy?"

"He gets pictures in his textbooks," Cobra deadpanned. "I'm lucky to get a diagram once every hundred fu-" He quickly cleared his throat, muttering a soft apology and hoping she wouldn't realize he was about to let a curse slip out. 'Keep the cursing out, motherfucker!' "Every hundred pages or so."

"Well, you are goin' for different things."

Cobra still couldn't get over the fact that Bickslow was a Theology major. He just didn't understand it, but damn it all was the blue-haired bastard sexy when he started talking about it. That spark in his eyes, how his hands would start moving to help make his point. It was one of the few things Bickslow was truly serious about. "Yeah," he said. There was a pregnant silence that had his skin crawling. Maybe she was expecting him to bring something up? Regardless of whether or not she knew they were dating, an astoundingly large part of him ached for her approval. He really did want her to like him. "You know, he never told me he used to live on a ranch."

There was a twinkle in her eye that he didn't understand, but he stayed relaxed.

"Bickslow was born and raised here," she said. "His Mama had him up in her bedroom with a midwife and the town doctor here. She was young and his father wasn't around. Bless his heart, that man was so broke he couldn't afford to pay attention, and he decided that a baby wasn't for him."

"That sucks," he said, wincing slightly. Was that too rude? Damnit.

She let out a small, quiet laugh. "Well, he grew up here, workin' with the horses, ridin' and wranglin'. That boy learned this ranch inside an' out before he was tall enough to reach the stove."

"I just can't picture it," he said, looking back toward the kitchen. That definitely explained the delicious muscles his tongue had been dragging over the night before. Those tight abs, strong arms, the callouses on his hands and knuckles. After a moment, Cobra realized he needed to change his train of thought before he popped a fucking boner at the table with his boyfriend's grandmother sitting right there. Then again, just the realization that she was there was enough to kill that fucking mood real fast.


Cobra wasn't entirely sure where Bickslow put all the fucking food he ate. Like the two whole slices of pecan pie that had replaced the traditional birthday cake - complete with a candle in it that had Bickslow cracking up. Because Cobra was struggling to get through his own piece. He could eat like a boss when he was so inclined, but never in his life had he eaten such filling food.

"I'm gonna be sendin' both of y'all home with leftovers," Memaw said. "I'm sure y'all don't get enough home-cooked meals livin' in the dorms."

"Not really," Bickslow chuckled. "Fast food is easy, and ramen is cheap. You know I'll take leftovers, Memaw."

Cobra gulped down the partially chewed bite of pie when her attention turned toward him. "I, uh… I've never really had anything like this, so…" He could only assume that the cafeteria style food in the orphanage could be considered a home-cooked meal, considering that was the closest he'd ever had to a home. Fast food was pretty much all he ate. Like Taco Bell. Constantly. And the only time he'd really gone to a regular restaurant was with Lucy and Macbeth when they graduated from high school, and again when they were all accepted to the same university.

But something like this? Sitting around a table in an actual dining room, smelling the food cooking and the work that went into the meal? That was something he'd never had. And it was something that he hadn't realized he was missing out on until he'd taken a seat and saw the meal set out on matching white vintage plates with blue flowers on the trim and gold edges.

"Well, anytime you come on down, you'll be takin' leftovers," she said.

"Thank you," Cobra said just before taking another bite. He was nearly done with his slice. He could finish this. Wasn't it rude to leave food on the plate? Bickslow had cleared his own during lunch, and then dessert. His grandmother had done the same, but her own portions had been visibly smaller.

"Think nothin' of it." She took a sip of her tea while setting her attention on Bickslow again. "Bickslow, I know you told me not to bother gettin' you anything, but it's too late."

"I saw this morning," he chuckled. "Thanks for the gift cards."

"Gift cards?" Cobra asked, brow raised and smirking. "Very modern."

"I don't know what to get my grandson anymore," she laughed. "I figured somethin' for the bookstore out there to get the books he wants. Lord knows I haven't the foggiest what he does and doesn't have now."

"Memaw likes spoiling my inner nerd," Bickslow said while putting a third slice of pie on his plate.

"What inner nerd?" Cobra chuckled. "You're all nerd."

"Gradually, step by step, one should become situated in trance by means of intelligence sustained by full conviction, and thus the mind should be fixed on the Self alone," Bickslow said, waving his fork around. "Bhagavad Gita."

"Honey, I think you just proved Erik's point," Memaw said gently. "I hope you had a good birthday though. I'm sure you had better things to do than come home and see me."

"No way," Bickslow said, more focused on food than what he was saying. "Cobra's gonna give me my birthday present when we get back later. And it's not like I wanna go out partying when I could spend the day with you and then have a nice night in with my boyfr-" The sharp kick to his shin under the table and the wide-eyed stare from Cobra sitting next to him, had Bickslow ready to swallow his tongue. "I mean, uh… studying… A night in studying… with my books!"

"You got somethin' you wanna tell me?"

Cobra was hoping with everything he was worth that he could just melt into the goddamn chair right then. He definitely was not going to look at the older woman just to find out if she was glaring at him like he thought. He was just going to stare at Bickslow, who was suddenly more interested in the fucking tablecloth than making a peep.

"Bickslow?"

"Y-Yes, Memaw?"

"I'm gonna ask you one time, and you best not lie to me," she said slowly.

"Yes, ma'am…"

"Do you have somethin' to tell me about Erik?"

Finally, Bickslow looked up from the table, right into her bright green eyes. "He's my boyfriend," he said, watching her slowly take a sip of her tea, still staring right at him. "For about six months now."

"Uh-huh."

Bickslow cringed slightly, but refused to look toward Cobra. Especially since he suddenly felt an apology sitting on the tip of his tongue, and the last thing he wanted to do was apologize for dating the guy who was sitting right there. He knew there wasn't anything to apologize for. He wasn't ashamed of his relationship with Cobra. Far from it. But he knew that his grandmother was religious, a devout Christian, and this was probably the last thing she wanted to find out about. That her only grandson was gay was probably the biggest kick in the teeth he could have given her.

"Is there a reason you didn't tell me sooner?" she asked.

A small part of Bickslow wanted to cling to the hope that she wouldn't disown him right then and there. He just couldn't picture her doing it. Except, he'd also never really thought about how she felt about gay people in general. But she was waiting for an answer, and he'd learned a long time ago that she didn't ask questions that she didn't expect answered.

"I… Well, I thought… I don't know."

"You'll have to do better than that, Bickslow."

"I was worried about how you'd react," he whispered, finally breaking eye contact with her to look at his half-eaten slice of pie. "I wasn't gonna tell you on the phone, and it seemed like something I should say in person."

"Well, I appreciate the thought," she said.

"Are you… mad at me?" Both Bickslow and Cobra found themselves jumping when she laughed. It wasn't just a quiet little laugh, but filled the air around them.

"Honey, gettin' all worked up over somethin' like who's lovin' who makes about as much sense as a screen door on a submarine!"

Cobra chuckled at her quick turn of phrase. He really couldn't help it at that point. All day, Bickslow's grandmother had been throwing out weird little sayings that he'd never heard before, and he'd been trying to hold back his laughter. The last thing he'd wanted to do was offend her. But at that point, he couldn't fucking stop himself. And thankfully, when she reached across the table and placed her cold, wrinkled fingers on the back of his hand, drawing his gaze to her face, she was smiling back at him.

"My opinion on who makes my grandson happy don't amount to a hill o' beans," she said, lightly squeezing Cobra's hand. "Long as he's happy, I'm happy."

Cobra's smile grew just a little wider. "I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I'll take it as a good thing," he said, pulling another laugh from the older woman.

"But…" Bickslow's brows drew together. "You're a super Christian, Memaw. The Bible says that what we're doing is a sin."

Her eyes narrowed only slightly while she looked back at him. "You should know better'n anyone that I think that King James version is a load of garbage," she said. "The Bible's all well and good - and I prefer my Geneva version - but I raised you to remember the most important thing is love. You live your life as a good person, and God will make sure good things happen to you in return, Bickslow. I might believe in God, and I might be a Christian, but I'm of the firm belief that we should love each other, and stop focusin' so much on our differences."

"But I… I thought…"

"I can only assume that you ain't ashamed of Erik, else you wouldn't have brought him over."

"I'm not!"

"Then what's the problem?" she laughed, turning to look at Cobra again. "He's cute as a button. If you don't want him, I think I might just snatch him up myself."

Cobra huffed out a laugh at her exaggerated wink toward him, then turned to find Bickslow's jaw hanging open. And that only made him laugh even harder. One of his favorite things to do was trying to catch Bickslow off-guard. The look on his face was absolutely adorable when he was surprised. His eyes would get so wide, and those sexy, plump lips of his would part just a little. Cobra could nearly hear the cogs in his head grinding to a halt.

Fucking precious.

"M-Memaw?" Bickslow blanched at the sudden mental image of Cobra and his grandmother doing anything together that didn't involve a table between the two of them.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Bix," Cobra snickered. "Or I might just let her sweep me off my feet."

"Oh my god… Shut up…"

"But we could be in love," Memaw said. "Bickslow, you wouldn't want to deny an old woman the chance at love, would ya?"

"I quit," he muttered, stabbing at his pie and shoveling a large bite in his mouth. He was never going to get those images out of his head. Never.

"Now, how'd you get the name Cobra?"

"When I was five, I stopped a boy from beating up my friend, Lucy," Cobra said. He wasn't going to mention that it was Laxus, Bickslow's damn roommate. Mainly because he really wasn't planning on going down that road and bringing up all the bullshit between them over the years, if he could help it. "She'd just lost her parents a few months back, and she really wasn't in a good place at the time. And he was eleven, so it was already just a hot mess. Anyway, I helped her out and when we were talking afterwards, she said I reminded her of a cobra. The name stuck."

"Well, I'd like to call you Erik, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all," he said, smiling while taking another bite of pie.

Cobra's foot slid across the small space between their feet and lightly caressed his calf, and Bickslow found that he couldn't stop himself from smiling. The cat was out of the bag. His Memaw knew that he was in a relationship with a guy, and she hadn't blown a head gasket. She was treating him just like she did everyone else.

"You should feel lucky, Memaw. I didn't know his name was Erik until today."

Cobra shrugged at the playful glare from his boyfriend. "You never asked," he said. "Happy birthday, Bix."