I wasn't going to crosspost this here from my journal, but Thumana bribed me, so blame her~

Title: A Sorta Fairytale (1 of 2 or 1/3)
Series: FE9/10
Character/Pairing: Ike/Soren, Ranulf/drunk girls and boys, Soren/science.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: College AU. On the first party of the semester, Ike is kissed by an anti-social Science major. The rest, as you would say, is history. Ike/Soren.
Author's note: something I started randomly over last Nano. Well, technically it's a mix of 09's nano snippets as well. I had scrapped the whole college verse I had going, but kept two scenes I liked a lot in this one.

It's also the one that started the whole TFLN fic revolution between Ammy and I~

Happy birthday, Artemis Elric!

he saw my "I like bacon" magnet on the fridge and I told him how much I love meat, then we started making out
what a beautiful fairy tale.


Ranulf was grinding on the floor with a girl in a black tube-top and a big guy in a Hawaiian shirt. Ike was just glad that he'd stopped with the wingman stuff and trying to get Ike laid. Ike hadn't expected the surprise party in his apartment 'for the hell of it' and pretty much the first thought in his mind was 'if anyone pukes, I'm making Ranulf clean it up.'

It was Saturday night, so the game wasn't on, so technically he wasn't missing anything. Ike passed a few gyrating drunk girls who tried to get him to grind with him, and made his way towards the fridge. He was pretty sure there was still some cheesy bacon breadpizza in there, if Ranulf hadn't gotten to the last, that was. If Ranulf had, there would issues between them, because he'd called dibs and Ranulf was always going on about the absoluteness of dibs and the Bro Code, and Ike was pretty sure that applied to cheesy bacon breadpizza as well.

He saw another refugee from the drunken masses stalk in. A guy in glasses, a black long-sleeved shirt under a black t-shirt of with a pirate on it, with touched by his noodly appendage printed on it, ripped jeans and sneakers. He was a bit on the small side, looked like a stiff-wind could blow him over. His red eyes looked wary. They focused on the I love bacon magnet on their slightly dirty fridge. (Ranulf preferred to call it 'rustic' – Ike knew it was just rusty.)

Ike wondered how high the guy had to be to get eyes that red. Did he smoke the whole farm?

"Yeah, that's my magnet," Ike said. He took a bite out of his delicious breadpizza. Usually, he'd fight to the death over breadpizza, especially the bacon kind, but the guy sort of looked like he might die of starvation, and he didn't want anyone dying on his watch. Ike held a piece out, and the guy considered it. Ike thought the guy sort of looked like he might take a bite out of Ike's hand, or curl up in a corner and snarf it down while sort of looking like Gollum from Lord of the Rings, but he did neither.

"Go on, sit down," Ike said. He took another bite and the guy sighed.

"Haven't seen you around," Ike said conversationally.

"We have different majors," he said. "The kinds that don't cross paths often."


"I'm a science major, and you seem to be majoring in football," the guy said with a frown.

"Ranulf said he was going to major in beer pong and being awesome, so anything's possible," Ike said.

The guy finally took a bite from his, and it was little bird bites. Kinda cute, actually. Ike held it, and he had this thought that if Ranulf ever saw this, he'd never live this down. That didn't mean he cared if Ranulf did, though. The guy took a sip of his beer.

"This is good..." He said.

Ike nodded. They were up against the fridge, and some drunk guy—likely Ranulf–was going WOOOO in the other room.

For a moment, the guy looked almost wistful. His wary, hard expression softened to something tender. The guy leaned up and kissed him. It was surprising, really. Ike didn't have a good history of kisses. There was the kisses from shop girls who were a little too obsessed that were sloppy, messy and had a waxy aftertaste; kisses from drunken party girls which got body glitter over him and left him feeling irritated and pushing them away; kisses from girls who thought they were dating or almost in love, who he'd thought of nothing but friends. He'd never kissed a guy before, but the feeling was oddly pleasant. It left a tingly feeling, and unlike the girls, there was no disgusting lipstick or body glitter stuck to him and he wasn't gagging on the scent of some fruity body spray. With this guy, the thought of being kissed again didn't bother him. In fact, he wouldn't mind it at all...

"Uh, thanks," Ike said. His lips were still tingling. He wanted to touch them, testing out this new feeling. For a moment the guy got this deer in the headlights look. It only lasted a second before he was pushing himself up off the floor, and muttering a I-I have to go.Before Ike could even protest that it was fine, really–more than fine–the guy was gone. Ike got up, and tried to find him through the crowd, but three drunk girls doing the hula wearing nothing but beads got in the way. He pushed his way through the crowd until he was in the hallway, but it was empty. He stood there a while, looking from side to side, and feeling this strange tightness in his chest he'd never felt before.


Ike was still a little hungover that Monday. He could never figure out what going through those college dean's heads anyways. Who the hell made classes in the morning anyways? If the teacher didn't want him sleeping in her class, she shouldn't have made the class at seven freaking AM.

He stumbled out of bed and pulled on the clothes from last night. He was more than a little glad that no one had vomited on them during the night, because he hadn't exactly gotten to laundry duty recently. Or at all. Ranaulf was passed out on the floor with no pants. Ike dragged his sheet over to cover Ranulf's ass, because that was what bros did.

Then he grabbed his sunglasses and was out the door. Breakfast would have to wait until he napped through his morning classes. Ike figured he'd at least get credit for being there.


Ike wandered in from his last class, lugging some books. He was a little more awake after he hit the local coffee joint, but that didn't mean any of his last classes made any fucking sense. He dropped his bag near the door. Ranulf was in a rainbow speedo, jazzercizing. Ike didn't ask.

Ranulf did one last jazzhands before he turned off the boombox.

"Oh, hey! Did you hear the news? We are going to the beer pong Olympics," Ranulf said. "You should've been with us, man."

"I was busy," Ike said.

"Hooking up with someone?"

"Something like that," Ike said.

"Dish," Ranulf said. "Seriously, dish now. Don't go all 'no kissing and telling'–"

"I need to find someone," Ike said, cutting Ranulf off.

"Let me look through my little black book," Ranulf said. "You know, I never thought I'd see the day. But, we are totally double dating."

"No, not drunk girls. Not that kind of finding. There's this guy I saw last party. A guy, science major. Long hair that seems black at first, it's sort of greenish, though. Red eyes like he smoked the whole stash, kind of anti-social. Likes bacon. That's who I was with last night."

"Soren Nevassa?" Ranulf said. "And I'm pretty sure he hates bacon, as well as everything else."

Ike frowned. "How can you hate bacon? Is that even possible?"

"I know! I dated this vegan girl once, and she thought bacon was the epitome of evil. But that's another story."

"Yeah, tell me the horror story later. Where would I find him?" Ike asked.

"Now? Probably in the library, I swear he loves that library like you love meat," Ranulf said. He then grinned, and snapped his fingers. "I totally get it now. You love meat get it? That's why you don't kiss girls–" He elbowed Ike in the ribs.

Ike just looked blankly at him.

"Geez, my humor is wasted on you," Ranulf said and stuck his tongue out. "But seriously, go catch him. I'll be rooting you on. And by 'rooting you on' I mean 'drinking beer."

Ike opened the door partway and gave Ranulf a nod before he left.

"Save some beer for me," Ike said.

Then the door closed behind him. Ranulf began to make his way to the minifridge. The door opened back up.

"Forget something?" Ranulf asked.

"I call dibs on the ribs," Ike said.

"Gotcha," Ranulf said.

Then Ike really was gone.


Soren was, in fact, in the library just as Ranulf predicted. Ike wondered if he should start asking Ranulf for lottery numbers, or or his knowledge only applied to cranky science majors.

He had on a green Science: It Works, Bitches shirt on pulled over a darker green longer shirt. When he turned, Ike noted a pirate flag stitched onto his duffle bag, and a cloth What Would Pirates Do? bracelet over his left wrist. He'd never seen such small wrists, and he'd met Reyson and Leanne, whose wrists were personally guarded by Tibarn, the hawk king. Also the rest of them. He looked even more fragile than them, and somehow it only made him more...interesting? Or to say, it only brought out a latent protective instinct and made him want to personally start guarding Soren's wrist. Also, the rest of him.

Soren noticed his gaze, and made a derisive sound, sort of like a hiss.

"No, it's not a new fashion statement, I just get cold easily," Soren said. "It's a family trait. So I layer."

"Oh no, that wasn't it at all," Ike said. He cleared his throat.

"Then state your business," Soren said.

"So, about last night—" Ike began.

Soren turned from him, making his expression unreadable. "I was drunk," Soren said. "That was all."

"I checked, you had like two sips of beer."

Soren turned back to face him and glowered.

"Oh, right. Lightweight and stuff," Ike said.

"It seems no college student can avoid getting drunk and doing stupid things at one point or another," Soren said with a sigh.

"According to Ranulf, you're not a true college student until you do," Ike said. "But really, it's no big deal."

"Of course it isn't," Soren said. His expression turned stony. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go to class."

He pushed by him, and Ike had the feeling that wasn't the answer Soren had wanted, even though he'd only said it to comfort him, and assure him everything was ok between them...even if they'd only met once.

Suddenly, he was more confused than ever.


When Ike returned back to his dorm room, Ranulf threw him an ice cold beer.

"Considering you aren't covered in hickies and looking triumphant, I'm going to guess it didn't go well," Ranulf said.

"You could say that," Ike said. He popped open the can and took a long chug. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve only to remember that he wasn't actually wearing sleeves. With a shrug he wiped his arm on his pants.

"It's weird," Ike said.

"So, you did kinky stuff?" Ranulf said.

"If talking in a library is kinky, then yeah. We totally did kinky stuff," Ike said.

Ranulf laughed. "For you that is kinky."

Ike took another sip of his beer. He couldn't exactly refute it. Not that he had really ever cared before. There was this pressing feeling, though, like he knew this person despite it all.

"I think he has to know me. It doesn't make sense, otherwise," Ike said. "But how? I guess I'll just have to find out by asking him..."

"Whoa, you're all Sherlock and shit," Ranulf said. He golf-clapped with one hand, which was quite a feat, considering.

"Is that your new name for Watson?" Ike asked.

"You be Holmes, I'll be Watson, and we'll solve the case of the missing beer," Ranulf said. He tipped back his can and took a long swig.

"I think Soren would probably be Holmes, and I'd be Watson. Also, you drank it," Ike said.

"Another case solved by hard work and shotgunning beer. And if you're Holmes, who would I be?" Ranulf said.

"The drunk guy in a rainbow beanie following us around and going 'woo!'" Ike said.

"Yet another case of literature being improved with beer and rainbow beanies. Now all we need are zombies and we're set to have a publishing deal," Ranulf said with a grin.

"C'mon, brofist," Ranulf said, lifting his fist. And Ike fistbumped him, because he knew that he'd Ranulf would keep his arm up all night just to get his fistbump.


Ike was staring at his book like it might impart some wisdom. He picked it up and shook it, but the book wasn't any clearer, and now the pages were all weird. Not for the first time, Ike was glad that he came in on a sports scholarship.

Ranulf waltzed in–literally, considering he just came in from his dancing class.

"I have some genuine information from a cute science major that Soren is captain of the debate team, and regularly makes people run from the room crying. Apparently he's really hardcore," Ranulf said. He sashayed over to the minifridge and pulled out a beer and popped the top. Ike couldn't help but wonder how many Ranulf had today, and how he wasn't passed out in the gutter already. Ike filed it away as just another one of life's mysteries.

"So, when's the next debate team meeting?" Ike said.

Ranulf smiled. "Tonight. You and I are going to watch this new crush of yours tear a new one for the celibacy club."

"Celibacy club, huh?" Ike asked.

He was going to look forward to this.