I do not own Ratched.

I do not own my angel boy Huck. But I love him.

Huck Finnigan Lives Again: A Ratched Fairytale

Other Things In the Moonlight


"You always be a gentleman when you're with a lady, Huck, or I'll thrash you good."

"Yes, Ma."

It has been a wonderful evening.

Huck and Grace.

His sweetheart.

His fiancee.

Dinner, movie.

And now they're in the car, preparing to go home.

He's going to drive nice and slow, cruise along the twisty roads alongside the ocean he once so feared and craved the sweet, drowning release of.

He's going to drive her home, deliver her safe and sound to her parents' house.

Bid her farewell and goodnight even though he really just wants to hold her, gaze into her eyes, feel the warmth of her body until the sun comes up to greet a fresh, new, hopeful day.

Then he's going to drive back to his apartment above the Mrs. Graham's garage.

He's going to fall asleep staring up at the cracked and peeling ceiling.

With a smile upon his scarred lips and joy in his healed heart.

As his final waking thoughts are of her and with a little good fortune, so are his dreams.

He's going to do all that with gladness as he has done so many nights before.

But first he's going to kiss his sweetheart, his fiancee, his Grace.

He's going to kiss her sweet lips in the moonlight, inhale her light, flowery perfume wafting into his nose on the warm night air.

He's going to put his arms around her and feel that she is real.

He's going to accept the tightening in his trousers, the ache that's going to radiate later.

Because he loves her too much to compromise her purity just for his own natural human needs.

And he does, he respects the woman he loves.

And so he kisses her, gentle and sweet, hands caressing the soft curve of her neck, pressing not too much against the fabric of the back of her dress.

He kisses her.

And she kisses him.

And he is on . . .

Grace . . .

. . . fire.

And that's . . .

Grace . . .

. . . okay.

For a little while.

And then-

Grace?

-she does something she has never done before.

And he did not expect her to do now.

She puts one hand down, right on his thigh. Much higher up than her standard knee pat.

And she puts her lips close to his good ear, his right ear.

And murmurs so low, so huskily it almost ends him there.

"You can touch me if you want, Huck. You can touch me more."

And his entire body flames, his entire body surges.

He wants to, yes, he desperately wants to.

He wants to touch her, he cannot express how much he wants to touch her.

With his hands, his fingers.

His lips, his tongue.

His body is on fire for her, he wants everything, he wants to lose himself in her.

It's almost painful, the intense physical response his body has to her.

But he hasn't touched her overtly yet.

"Grace-"

And he's not going to . . .

"No."

. . . now.

And so he stops completely.

Draws back, breaks contact.

And Grace, beautiful Grace, opens her dazzling eyes that he can't quite make the color of in the moonlight.

And looks at him.

Him, Huck.

Who's lifting her hand away from his thigh, pressing it warmly to his chest.

"I . . . I don't . . ."

Yes. Yes, he does.

"I don't want to do that."

Correction.

"I'm not going to do that to you."

And he's calming right down, at least in his on-fire brain.

His body is another challenge in and of itself.

"I don't want to treat you like that, Grace."

But he's in charge of his actions.

"I don't want to take advantage of you. I don't want to ruin what we have."

And he's calling the shots of himself.

"I don't want to be that guy."

Even though he's definitely going to need . . .

"It's . . . it's okay. I'm giving you permission, Huck."

. . . some alone time after this little . . .

"I know."

. . . necking session of theirs.

"I just . . . I want to wait. Until we're married. Until it's right, Grace."

And she's still staring at him.

"I want it to be special between us. When you're my wife."

Like she's never seen him before.

"I . . . I just don't want to tease, Huck. I don't want to . . . cause you frustration."

And he smiles. He knows.

"I'm going to be worked up when I'm with you like this, Grace."

He's blushing and she's blushing.

"It can't be helped."

And it's their talk after the nurses' talk all over again about whether or not all his plumbing works properly.

"And that's okay. It's, uh, you know, normal."

And that's okay, he's forcing himself to speak honestly.

"But I don't mind it. I don't. It feels good to be able to feel."

Because there's nothing in the world that he would ever do to make Grace feel less than what she should.

"And, uh, you know, when we're, uh, married . . ."

And nothing he would ever do to make her less than what she is.

". . . there will be time for all the rest of that then. When we're husband and wife."

And she's staring at him so intensely he doesn't know whether she is furious or not.

"Oh, Huck-"

But he knows he's right and loves her too much to make her wrong.

"- I can't believe you just said that."

And she throws her arms around him again.

"I've never been treated with so much respect by a man before."

Burying her face in his shoulder.

"I love you so much, Huck."

And he can feel . . .

"I love you too, . . ."

. . . the tears of happiness on his neck.

". . . Grace."

And then he kisses her again, sweet and light.

And drives her home.

In the moonlight.


Yep, that's Huck.

And I adore him.

Thanks to DinahRay and Conbird for so graciously reviewing before. :)

Thanks for reading and stay safe and well!