.: One-Time-Thing :.
"You're my favorite place to go when my mind searches for peace."
Luna's Aunt Daisy—with all her theories that Luna loved so much and held so dear—has said that anything that happened after two in the morning was likely to be a disaster. No good ideas—and no stories that didn't end with the protagonist in a police station or with their head in a toilet—were ever developed this close to the witching hour. Luna's sister Kinney would beg to differ, but Luna didn't expect this theory to be disproven tonight.
The housewarming party that Luna and her family decided to throw in their new penthouse had finally run its course. Her parents, aunts and uncles, and the younger siblings had headed out before the clock struck eleven, but that was when Tom and Elliot—who don't live here, Farrow was quick to point out—said it was time for the after party to finally start. They punctuated this thought by pulling out a handle of expensive vodka.
Luna was fine to just call it a night when half the guests had left—fine to just join her nephew Ripley in the land of dreams—but some of SFO had agreed with her best friends, and she wasn't about to be the only party pooper. That was well over three hours ago now, and Luna had decided she was just fine with being the party pooper (granted, there was no more loud music and almost everyone was just lounging on the furniture chatting).
Now, Luna was on a mission.
A half hour ago, she'd sat with her feet in the pool and passed a blunt around with Tom and Elliot. It must have been the headspace she was in before she'd inhaled that first puff—indifferent, wanting to be somewhere else, and altogether tired—that made the high hit unpleasantly. Instead of feeling content, warm, and sleepy, Luna felt anxious, lonely, and exhausted.
Her mission so far was a bit of a fail, but Luna was determined because, really, there was only one person that Luna wanted to be with right now and only so many rooms he could be hidden away in.
The townhouse, while near and dear to her heart, had been painfully tiny. Their new penthouse was anything but, so there were more than a few rooms that she had to peek her head into before she found where he was. Being jittery and anxious was not something that she particularly enjoyed, and—pardon her fixation, but—Donnelly was the only person she wanted to be around right now. She wanted his calm presence and his even breathing that had lulled her to sleep many a time. She wanted his eucalyptus and clove cigarette scent to cloak her senses.
She found him in the third room she checked—the larger of the two spare bedrooms that they had converted into a family room of sorts.
Pushing open the door, there were more people there than she had anticipated. Akara, Banks, and Sulli were chatting on one of the sofas—the one on the back wall under a large window—and Sulli's long, tan, and bare legs were thrown over both of the men's laps as she leaned against the armrest. The room was usually centered around a low wooden coffee table and a flat-screen television, but the couch that Sulli occupied was the only piece of furniture that was still in its original place against the far wall. Her brother and his husband had moved their loveseat more towards the back wall—crowding one of Jane's vintage end tables—and Oscar and Donnelly had situated their respective armchairs in a sort of loose semi-circle to better chat with each other. This effectively cut off Sulli, Akara, and Banks from any conversation that was happening on the other side of the room, but from what Sulli had shyly confessed to her, her cousin wouldn't mind.
There was one open sofa still, but it was all alone in the middle of the room and her shaking hands wouldn't enjoy that isolation too much. Not to mention, it wasn't what she wanted—high or not.
So, she headed for who she came for. Her brother said something in greeting, but it went in one ear and out the other—even if she had a gun to her head, she wouldn't have been able to repeat what he'd said. She stopped when she reached their little circle of furniture, and she unabashedly stared at Donnelly. His black Iron Maiden t-shirt had a few holes worn into the shoulder and his dark-wash jeans were clinging to his thighs as he lounged back in her favorite armchair. His eyes were clear and his light-brown hair was messy—a little greasy from the week he'd been having, but as her state of being pretty much matched his at any given moment, Luna didn't care. Donnelly had been avoiding alcohol and weed for the past three weeks, as he said he wanted to keep his head clear, and at the moment Luna wished she had joined him in his abstinence.
She could see him taking in her shaky hands, darting eyes, and slouched shoulders, and she saw the moment that her situation dawned on him.
"Bad high?" he asked.
"Yup," she replied slowly, looking over her shoulder at the door she'd just come through.
"You good, Luna?" her brother asked. He had a baby monitor clutched in his right hand, and his left hand was resting comfortably on his husband's thigh. He looked so concerned for her, and more than ready to get her literally anything she asked for. It was times like this that she remembered how much she loved her brother, but this was the first time that his strength wasn't the steady presence she was looking for. All she wanted at the moment was to curl up in Donnelly's lap and have him calmly run his fingers through her hair.
"Peachy," she said in answer, her voice strained. She made eye-contact with Donnelly, and she knew her questions were plastered across her features. Really, anyone in the room could likely see the longing on her face. Then he nodded at her—nodded—and she couldn't help but be surprised. She knew that he was giving her permission to oust them, but this was a gigantic step that had way more implications for him than it did for her.
"You're sure?" she questioned, surprised.
Oscar's eyes were pinging between Luna and Donnelly as if he were watching a table tennis match, and his face was a wash of confusion. Maximoff and Farrow, on the other hand, looked to know exactly what was going on—though her brother looked none too happy about it, and was liable to throw a (minor) fit as soon as she moved a muscle.
"Yes," Donnelly said simply, slipping a cigarette behind his ear and leaning back in his seat.
"Thank God," she breathed.
All the tension drained from her body as she took those three steps towards Donnelly and folded herself into his lap. They fit together, these days, like they were the last two pieces of a puzzle. There was no awkward shuffling to get comfortable, no accidental elbows to the gut; his arm just wrapped around her waist and his other hand landed securely, and warmly, on her thigh. As he pulled her closer to his chest, her arm wound around his neck and her head found its home in the juncture of his throat. Luna steadfastly ignored the growing tension she could feel coming from the room around her, and focused only on how centered she now felt—focused only on how easy it was to keep her eyes closed and how calming it was to breathe him in.
"The fuck?" Oscar whispered.
"A 'one-time-thing', was it?" Farrow asked.
She could hear the grin in Farrow's voice.
Donnelly, though, said nothing to either of his best friends. He just pulled her a little closer and began to fiddle with the strands of her hair.
this is un-beta'd, it doesn't really have a plot, and, rather than have an actual ending, it just stops lol. also, you can see me attempting to make myself okay with akara/sulli/banks bc i know nothing's changing... didn't really work, but i'm nothing if not determined.
all the same, this has been sitting on my desktop for about three months, so i figured i'd post it for the holidays :)) i hope you all enjoyed, thanks so much for reading!
- - - hi, update from the land of march 1st 2020: i now have one bogus review for this story, really love this for me. just ignore it and hopefully it'll get taken down. pls make me feel better with real reviews.