I kind of forgot this story existed after losing all my written work and rage quitting so uuuhh here you go ? i love you all and thank you for the support i was given a while ago and i hope youre still interested ! kisses and hugs for all

Chapter 7: "No More"

It was rude to make a guest do housework. Nate wasn't a polite person. Sleeping in late again, Flynn was 'forced' to takes the clothes out of the washer and stick them in the dryer. Then, he made coffee. Why were coffee machines so complicated nowadays?

After waiting five minutes and sipping his coffee out of a mug that proudly displayed, 'HOT LIKE MY ASS,' he brought out his phone and selected his boss' contact. 'Daily check-ups,' he had called it. It was a poor attempt to sugarcoat a situation like this, but the Brit appreciated the thought. A little...

He could hear shuffling and a groan from the bedroom, a small thud of something and a curse, then Drake was walking towards the kitchen where Flynn was seated. The groggy man watched the other talk on the phone as he scratched his belly.

"No, I'm fine."

A pause.

"No."

A pause.

"Mm-hm."

Another pause.

"Listen, I got company. I'll talk to you later," Flynn hushed and hung up, stuffing the phone back in his pocket and tilting his head at the other. "What?"

"What?" Nate repeated.

"You're staring." Oh. The brunet glanced away, then looked back, taking a seat across from his... friend(?) and resting his elbows on the wood. The nightmares kept waking him up and making his sleep unsatisfactory. He thought he was just over them when Flynn popped up again. He rubbed the scruff on his face with a tired sigh.

"I just cancelled the job. I can't go with them, since..." the tired man flexed his hands in a lazy way, trying not to make it seem like he thought Harry was a burden.

"Yeah. I know, love."

"I also have a side job I always do when I'm not doing the 'treasure hunting' thing, and it's Monday tomorrow, so..."

"Mm-hm."

Nate tilted his head at the other. He couldn't tell what he was thinking or feeling. Was it distress, sadness, grumpiness...? "What's wrong?" At the question, Flynn merely shook his head and took another sip of his coffee before sliding out of his seat and grabbing Nate a mug as well, which also proudly displayed, 'This might be Vodka.' Sully must've shopped for his damn coffee cups.

They both sat in silence for a minute as they drank their hot heaven until Nate hummed. The Brit looked up and lifted an eyebrow at him. "I was thinking," he started, "you could come with m-"

"No," he snapped. Drake blinked. Harry shook his head again and took a grumpy sip before setting his mug down with finality, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms. "I'm done with all that bullshit. No, I'm sick of it. It ruined everything. It took too goddamn long for me to realize that it isn't..."

"Isn't what," Nate squinted at him. He knew what he was going to say.

"...Worth it."

The brunet threw up his arms with a mocking laugh, getting out of his seat and pacing. His sleepiness had worn off quickly. "Just like Chloe, just like Elena," he huffed. He stopped, then turned to the other. "I do it because it's actually fun. Making your life happy is worth it. Sure, it's not for everyone," he raised his pitch a little, "but what's with everyone changing their minds? Next, it's gonna be Sully, then- then Charlie."

"You can find happiness in other things, mate."

"Like finding someone to love?" he mocked again. Flynn rolled his eyes. "Yeah, no, that's never gonna happen. It never has."

"Stop being such a drama queen-"

"Stop being so different." It came out... wrong? Not wrong, but it wasn't intended, either.

Harry gave him an unreadable look, then stood calmly and took his empty mug to the sink. "What do you mean?" he tested.

The slightly younger man shifted in his seat, reading the text on his mug over and over because it was that damn interesting. "I- I don't... kn-"

"You do."

Nate scratched his chin. "I mean- I know everything with you and... Took its toll, along with two years of whatever you've been doing, but you seem-" Weird. Off. Out of it. Not-Flynn.

Harry paused in his steps as he walked towards the table but quickly continued. "Not like myself," he stated rather than asked. Drake nodded in reply, earning a sigh. "I thought I was dead when I woke up," he murmured, then sat back down, slumping back in the chair. "I tried to commit suicide. I said it. I was miserable, I was desperate," he leaned forward and hissed the last word, "and I don't have the energy to risk any of that again. It did not make me happy. It made everyone suffer."

Flynn sat back in his chair again with a humorless laugh that sent shivers down Nate's spine- the laugh sounded like the one he used before he tried t- "And for what? Some bloody cash for us to wallow in while we drown in self-pity? It's like a damn metaphor for drugs, mate. I'm not havin' it. I'm fine being a bartender."

Drake scowled slightly as he scratched his chin again, watching the other man. He said, 'was miserable,' but he looked no happier. More relaxed, yes, but not happier. He nodded. He couldn't disagree; Flynn was completely right. Their lives were more important than all of that. It was one thing if Nate was alone on his adventures, but pulling other people in that he loved- that was a different story.

After a final attempt at trying to find something he could disagree on, the brunet swallowed the rest of his coffee and dumped his mug in the sink.

"We've been fightin' a lot," Flunn mused from the table.

"We've put off a lot of things for two years-"

"Or maybe," the Brit was behind him now, wrapping his arms around the other and purring into his ear.

Oh God- when did he get up from the table? Nate huffed and half-attempted to nudge him off; he knew it was a distraction, but Flynn was pleasantly warm, and taller than him, which aided in the heat and pressure covering him like a blanket.

"Let me make you feel good, love," Harry mumbled. He started unfastening Nate's belt as his hips pushed against the counter. "I missed you."

Those last three words made his resolve cave in. The brunet stopped squirming and instead angled himself against the hands on his belt and the chest against his back.

His belt fell to the floor with a clink of metal.

do you guys want me to write out this scene? let me know uvu