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asphaltcowgrrlTitle: Mi-a picat fisa (My Coin Dropped)
Fandom: Romani Detective Original Fiction
Pairing: Andrej Zeklos/James Rosewood/Zayne Reyes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,871
Summary: The boys are fighting again and Andrej, frustrated beyond belief, does the unthinkable.
Author’s Note: Written for the weekend challenge at 1_million_words. My prompt is the quote Andy finds on the wall near the end of the fic. I had an epiphany today while eating my lunch. I think I finally know why Zayne and James do what they do sometimes. The title is a Romanian phrase that translates to ‘my coin dropped’ meaning they finally get it or understand something. At the end, Andy’s coin definitely drops. In an amusing side note, if a Romanian accuses you of ‘selling donuts’ they think you are lying to them. Which would never fly with Zayne because he’d be expecting donuts after.
James sat on the floor with his back against the recliner. He was holding a Ziplock bag of ice, wrapped in a thin kitchen towel, against his face. Pouting. Like a giant child.
**
Zayne knelt on the floor of the kitchen, bleeding on the ceramic tile. He was trying hard not to cry, more humiliated than hurt, but damn if his lip wasn’t throbbing anyway.
**
Andrej was six blocks down at the local coffee shop. He’d forgone his usual iced coffee and opted for the Cuban – cold brew with muscovado sugar – knowing he was going to need both the carbs and the caffeine to get through this. His hand ached, it’d been years since he’d been in a brawl.
“You know it had to be done,” Trish said from across the table. She reached for his hand and thought twice about it.
“I wonder if they’ll give me some ice if I ask,” Hilary muttered. “His knuckles are going to bruise.”
He pulled his hand away and hid it under the table. It was bad enough he’d punched not one, but both of his boyfriends. The few friends he had didn’t need to be making a big deal about it. “Violence is never the answer,” he said, reaching for his drink with his left hand.
“No,” Hilary agreed, saying the words slowly, trying to ease Andrej off the emotional ledge he’d climbed onto. “But sometimes it is necessary.”
“You said they were going at each other pretty aggressively,” Trish added. “You were afraid they’d hurt each other. I get it.”
But that wasn’t it at all. James and Zayne fought. A lot. But they rarely, if ever, got physical with each other. Well, not more physical than a poke or a smack to the back of the head anyway. But this afternoon, both had had clenched fists and angry faces. “They are always hurting one another in some way,” he sighed. “I had no intentions of adding to their pain.”
“But?”
He looked at Trish, trying to decide if she was truly attempting to help or merely looking for dirt. Her face was serious, earnest, and it gave him some measure of calm. She, like Jay, was quick to anger. Unlike Zayne, however, they were both quick to calm down, as well. Usually.
“But I have had it with the fighting.” He took a long drink of his coffee. It was exactly what he needed – strong and a little sweet, everything he’d always thought Zayne had been. “The bickering and the teasing are okay. Although it does get annoying, at least it is affectionate.” He shook his head. “Today, today there was no warmth, no joking. It was all anger and hurt feelings.”
“So you decked them both,” Trish said.
He gave her a look.
“Rollins, cool it,” Hilary scolded. “I have a feeling everyone’s emotions were running a little hotter than usual. Reyes has a hair trigger as it is. I have enough history with him to know how unmanageable he can be when his feelings are hurt. The narco, well, I can only guess. If he’s anything like this one,” she hooked a thumb in Trish’s direction, “then he’s probably not any easier to deal with than Zayne.”
“What shocks us both,” Trish said, “is that you, of all people, lost your temper.”
“Agreed,” Hilary said, nodding. “What the hell set you off?”
He put both hands out on the table in front of him, fingers spread. The knuckles on his right were swollen and slowly turning a lovely shade of bluish purple. How on earth did he explain it to them? The worry that their constant bickering had turned a corner into true dislike? Or, how he had never known how much he’d missed have something this close to a family after all his years away from home? Andrej didn’t want to lose any of it, not one single piece of this beautiful puzzle that was his life, but even he could only take so much.
“Fear,” he finally said, stunning them both.
The girls looked at each other.
“What has you so afraid that you’d beat the crap out of the narco?” Trish brushed her fingers across his wrist, trying to give some kind of comfort. “Reyes, I understand. He’s just punchable sometimes.”
“Trish, please,” Hilary said, exasperated.
“She is trying to lighten the mood,” Andrej said. He knew they’d be surprised that he caught on to that, too. “I am afraid if so many things, Trish.”
“You hide it well,” Hilary muttered.
He eyed them both for a minute before speaking. “I have had too many years of practice,” he admitted. It had started in his childhood and, by the time he’d become an adult, it was old habit. Zayne had once told him he had to be strong-willed to keep it all in like he did, but Andrej knew the truth: he was too weak to be honest with himself or those around him.
“You need to unlearn that habit,” Hilary said. “It’s not – shit, hold on.” She looked at her phone, frowned, and then answered it. “Yeah? What the hell do you want?”
It had to be Zayne, judging by both her tone and the sour expression on her face.
“Why would I do that?” She frowned more deeply and waited.
He could hear Zayne’s voice, pleading, although he couldn’t understand any of what was being said. Although he was curious as to what Zayne was spouting, Andrej couldn’t worry himself with it right then. In an effort to dissociate himself from the events of earlier, he rose from his seat in search of another coffee.
The barista moved off to make his drink and Andrej looked around him. He loved this little place because it wasn’t like the other shops in the area. The wall containing the entrance and the one to the left of it were always covered in framed quotes and cute mugs carrying sarcastic messages. James had bought Zayne one of those mugs for his last birthday, one that read ‘world’s okayest boyfriend’. It had been quite the hit. Zayne used it so much that Andrej had given up trying to get the coffee stains out of the ceramic.
On the right, the wall was covered in a huge blackboard where every week a new bit of artwork appeared. He didn’t know who it was that drew the pictures, but they had a ton of talent. Today, there was a mermaid, her tail sprawling across three quarters of the wall. Above her were the words Not all love is gentle. Sometimes it's gritty and dirty and possessive, sometimes it's not supposed to be careful or soft at all. The quote finished beneath her with, Sometimes it feels like teeth. There was a little heart-eyed fish with his teeth sunk into her tailfin, hanging on for what looked like dear life.
“That is an interesting quote,” Hilary said, coming up beside him.
“I do believe the mermaid is trying to tell you something, Zek,” Trish added.
“Nah,” Hilary said, giving Andrej a huge smile. “The fish is.”
“I am confused,” he muttered. “What am I supposed to take away from this?”
“Hold on tight,” Trish said, giving his arm a squeeze. “You’re in for one hell of a ride with these two.”
“I already knew that,” Andrej said. He’d known it long before he started dating either of them. James and Zayne were too much a like and yet too different for things to be any other way. Sighing, he looked at Hilary. “What did Zayne want?”
She scrunched up her face. “You knew it was him, huh?”
“Your stank face when you answered kind of gave it way, Maxwell.”
Trish’s comment made Andrej smile. “It was indeed your expression as well as your tone of voice that gave it away.”
“Sorry, I get annoyed with them both when they upset you like this,” Hilary told him. “They want you to come home. I guess Reyes stopped bleeding long enough to use the phone.”
Andrej winced. He’d caught Zayne harder than he had Jay, splitting Zayne’s lip. He wouldn’t ever forgive himself for that. “Is he okay? Are they both okay?”
“Zayne’s lisping a little,” Hilary said with a grin, “but they are back to bickering like four-year-olds, so I’m going to say they’re fine. You want a ride home?”
“Or a ride out of state,” Trish added. “Because we can do that, too.”
He’d forgotten that he’d walked the six blocks to the coffee shop. In his anger, he hadn’t wanted to drive anywhere. Andrej trained his gaze on the quote again. Both Zayne and James had always had to fight for everything. James, to get out from under the controlling thumb of his parents and their archaic religion; Zayne from under the shadows of his two older siblings. Both always struggling to prove themselves worthy of whatever they had.
Maybe that was what their problem was.
“I think I’ll walk,” he told the girls. “Thank you for the offer as well as the company. I could not survive this relationship without you both.”
After a few more offers to give him a lift home, the girls gave in and hugged Andrej.
“Don’t let them guilt you into shit,” Trish whispered into his ear.
“If you need us later, don’t hesitate to call.”
He promised them both that he would heed their advice and headed out the door. Although it wasn’t a long walk, today it felt like forever. All he could hope for now was that they’d listen to him and try to put aside some of their own fears because he’d come to understand that was exactly what caused these flare ups. Fear that one was better than the other. Fear that one was loved more than another. Fear that they’d each be forced out of the relationship and made to watch as the other won everything.
Andrej wouldn’t let that happen, but he had to have their help for it to work.
By the time he was halfway up the drive, both James and Zayne stood in the doorway, waiting. James’ eye was puffy and purple, Zayne’s mouth red and swollen and painful looking. It hit him in the heart to know that he’d done this to them, but he hadn’t given them much choice. They’d forgive him long before he forgave himself.
“We need to talk,” he said before either could start apologizing. It was going to be a difficult conversation, but it was time they all laid themselves bare. There was no other way to save this thing that they had. “And we need to be honest with each other about our feelings, our wants, and our fears. Myself included. Are you willing to commit to that?”
Zayne nodded. James gave a quiet acknowledgement of agreement.
“Good. Someone please get me a drink and an ice pack. I think I hurt my hand.”
“That’s what you get for punching the cowboy’s hard head,” James said, a certain fondness in his words.
“Yeah, but he hit you first, gingerbread,” Zayne replied without any hint of anger.
Well, at least they were on speaking terms again, Andrej thought. It was a start.
Fandom: Romani Detective Original Fiction
Pairing: Andrej Zeklos/James Rosewood/Zayne Reyes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,871
Summary: The boys are fighting again and Andrej, frustrated beyond belief, does the unthinkable.
Author’s Note: Written for the weekend challenge at 1_million_words. My prompt is the quote Andy finds on the wall near the end of the fic. I had an epiphany today while eating my lunch. I think I finally know why Zayne and James do what they do sometimes. The title is a Romanian phrase that translates to ‘my coin dropped’ meaning they finally get it or understand something. At the end, Andy’s coin definitely drops. In an amusing side note, if a Romanian accuses you of ‘selling donuts’ they think you are lying to them. Which would never fly with Zayne because he’d be expecting donuts after.
James sat on the floor with his back against the recliner. He was holding a Ziplock bag of ice, wrapped in a thin kitchen towel, against his face. Pouting. Like a giant child.
**
Zayne knelt on the floor of the kitchen, bleeding on the ceramic tile. He was trying hard not to cry, more humiliated than hurt, but damn if his lip wasn’t throbbing anyway.
**
Andrej was six blocks down at the local coffee shop. He’d forgone his usual iced coffee and opted for the Cuban – cold brew with muscovado sugar – knowing he was going to need both the carbs and the caffeine to get through this. His hand ached, it’d been years since he’d been in a brawl.
“You know it had to be done,” Trish said from across the table. She reached for his hand and thought twice about it.
“I wonder if they’ll give me some ice if I ask,” Hilary muttered. “His knuckles are going to bruise.”
He pulled his hand away and hid it under the table. It was bad enough he’d punched not one, but both of his boyfriends. The few friends he had didn’t need to be making a big deal about it. “Violence is never the answer,” he said, reaching for his drink with his left hand.
“No,” Hilary agreed, saying the words slowly, trying to ease Andrej off the emotional ledge he’d climbed onto. “But sometimes it is necessary.”
“You said they were going at each other pretty aggressively,” Trish added. “You were afraid they’d hurt each other. I get it.”
But that wasn’t it at all. James and Zayne fought. A lot. But they rarely, if ever, got physical with each other. Well, not more physical than a poke or a smack to the back of the head anyway. But this afternoon, both had had clenched fists and angry faces. “They are always hurting one another in some way,” he sighed. “I had no intentions of adding to their pain.”
“But?”
He looked at Trish, trying to decide if she was truly attempting to help or merely looking for dirt. Her face was serious, earnest, and it gave him some measure of calm. She, like Jay, was quick to anger. Unlike Zayne, however, they were both quick to calm down, as well. Usually.
“But I have had it with the fighting.” He took a long drink of his coffee. It was exactly what he needed – strong and a little sweet, everything he’d always thought Zayne had been. “The bickering and the teasing are okay. Although it does get annoying, at least it is affectionate.” He shook his head. “Today, today there was no warmth, no joking. It was all anger and hurt feelings.”
“So you decked them both,” Trish said.
He gave her a look.
“Rollins, cool it,” Hilary scolded. “I have a feeling everyone’s emotions were running a little hotter than usual. Reyes has a hair trigger as it is. I have enough history with him to know how unmanageable he can be when his feelings are hurt. The narco, well, I can only guess. If he’s anything like this one,” she hooked a thumb in Trish’s direction, “then he’s probably not any easier to deal with than Zayne.”
“What shocks us both,” Trish said, “is that you, of all people, lost your temper.”
“Agreed,” Hilary said, nodding. “What the hell set you off?”
He put both hands out on the table in front of him, fingers spread. The knuckles on his right were swollen and slowly turning a lovely shade of bluish purple. How on earth did he explain it to them? The worry that their constant bickering had turned a corner into true dislike? Or, how he had never known how much he’d missed have something this close to a family after all his years away from home? Andrej didn’t want to lose any of it, not one single piece of this beautiful puzzle that was his life, but even he could only take so much.
“Fear,” he finally said, stunning them both.
The girls looked at each other.
“What has you so afraid that you’d beat the crap out of the narco?” Trish brushed her fingers across his wrist, trying to give some kind of comfort. “Reyes, I understand. He’s just punchable sometimes.”
“Trish, please,” Hilary said, exasperated.
“She is trying to lighten the mood,” Andrej said. He knew they’d be surprised that he caught on to that, too. “I am afraid if so many things, Trish.”
“You hide it well,” Hilary muttered.
He eyed them both for a minute before speaking. “I have had too many years of practice,” he admitted. It had started in his childhood and, by the time he’d become an adult, it was old habit. Zayne had once told him he had to be strong-willed to keep it all in like he did, but Andrej knew the truth: he was too weak to be honest with himself or those around him.
“You need to unlearn that habit,” Hilary said. “It’s not – shit, hold on.” She looked at her phone, frowned, and then answered it. “Yeah? What the hell do you want?”
It had to be Zayne, judging by both her tone and the sour expression on her face.
“Why would I do that?” She frowned more deeply and waited.
He could hear Zayne’s voice, pleading, although he couldn’t understand any of what was being said. Although he was curious as to what Zayne was spouting, Andrej couldn’t worry himself with it right then. In an effort to dissociate himself from the events of earlier, he rose from his seat in search of another coffee.
The barista moved off to make his drink and Andrej looked around him. He loved this little place because it wasn’t like the other shops in the area. The wall containing the entrance and the one to the left of it were always covered in framed quotes and cute mugs carrying sarcastic messages. James had bought Zayne one of those mugs for his last birthday, one that read ‘world’s okayest boyfriend’. It had been quite the hit. Zayne used it so much that Andrej had given up trying to get the coffee stains out of the ceramic.
On the right, the wall was covered in a huge blackboard where every week a new bit of artwork appeared. He didn’t know who it was that drew the pictures, but they had a ton of talent. Today, there was a mermaid, her tail sprawling across three quarters of the wall. Above her were the words Not all love is gentle. Sometimes it's gritty and dirty and possessive, sometimes it's not supposed to be careful or soft at all. The quote finished beneath her with, Sometimes it feels like teeth. There was a little heart-eyed fish with his teeth sunk into her tailfin, hanging on for what looked like dear life.
“That is an interesting quote,” Hilary said, coming up beside him.
“I do believe the mermaid is trying to tell you something, Zek,” Trish added.
“Nah,” Hilary said, giving Andrej a huge smile. “The fish is.”
“I am confused,” he muttered. “What am I supposed to take away from this?”
“Hold on tight,” Trish said, giving his arm a squeeze. “You’re in for one hell of a ride with these two.”
“I already knew that,” Andrej said. He’d known it long before he started dating either of them. James and Zayne were too much a like and yet too different for things to be any other way. Sighing, he looked at Hilary. “What did Zayne want?”
She scrunched up her face. “You knew it was him, huh?”
“Your stank face when you answered kind of gave it way, Maxwell.”
Trish’s comment made Andrej smile. “It was indeed your expression as well as your tone of voice that gave it away.”
“Sorry, I get annoyed with them both when they upset you like this,” Hilary told him. “They want you to come home. I guess Reyes stopped bleeding long enough to use the phone.”
Andrej winced. He’d caught Zayne harder than he had Jay, splitting Zayne’s lip. He wouldn’t ever forgive himself for that. “Is he okay? Are they both okay?”
“Zayne’s lisping a little,” Hilary said with a grin, “but they are back to bickering like four-year-olds, so I’m going to say they’re fine. You want a ride home?”
“Or a ride out of state,” Trish added. “Because we can do that, too.”
He’d forgotten that he’d walked the six blocks to the coffee shop. In his anger, he hadn’t wanted to drive anywhere. Andrej trained his gaze on the quote again. Both Zayne and James had always had to fight for everything. James, to get out from under the controlling thumb of his parents and their archaic religion; Zayne from under the shadows of his two older siblings. Both always struggling to prove themselves worthy of whatever they had.
Maybe that was what their problem was.
“I think I’ll walk,” he told the girls. “Thank you for the offer as well as the company. I could not survive this relationship without you both.”
After a few more offers to give him a lift home, the girls gave in and hugged Andrej.
“Don’t let them guilt you into shit,” Trish whispered into his ear.
“If you need us later, don’t hesitate to call.”
He promised them both that he would heed their advice and headed out the door. Although it wasn’t a long walk, today it felt like forever. All he could hope for now was that they’d listen to him and try to put aside some of their own fears because he’d come to understand that was exactly what caused these flare ups. Fear that one was better than the other. Fear that one was loved more than another. Fear that they’d each be forced out of the relationship and made to watch as the other won everything.
Andrej wouldn’t let that happen, but he had to have their help for it to work.
By the time he was halfway up the drive, both James and Zayne stood in the doorway, waiting. James’ eye was puffy and purple, Zayne’s mouth red and swollen and painful looking. It hit him in the heart to know that he’d done this to them, but he hadn’t given them much choice. They’d forgive him long before he forgave himself.
“We need to talk,” he said before either could start apologizing. It was going to be a difficult conversation, but it was time they all laid themselves bare. There was no other way to save this thing that they had. “And we need to be honest with each other about our feelings, our wants, and our fears. Myself included. Are you willing to commit to that?”
Zayne nodded. James gave a quiet acknowledgement of agreement.
“Good. Someone please get me a drink and an ice pack. I think I hurt my hand.”
“That’s what you get for punching the cowboy’s hard head,” James said, a certain fondness in his words.
“Yeah, but he hit you first, gingerbread,” Zayne replied without any hint of anger.
Well, at least they were on speaking terms again, Andrej thought. It was a start.
