Chapter Text
He came into his room and saw Georgia digging through his food pile. “What are you doing?”
Georgia looked back at him. “I'm looking for some snacks.”
California raised an eyebrow. “I have snacks. You're digging through them. Please don’t dig too deep. I got some stuff at the bottom of the box.”
Georgia seemingly found something he liked. “I'll clean it up.”
California looked at the bag and laughed. “I didn't even know I had those. I know Florida likes to come in and just steal things.”
Georgia was holding a bag of barbecue chips.
California was looking for something in there. He reached the bottom of the box and pulled out a bag of pre-rolled joints.
Georgia's eyes widened. He couldn’t think of anything to say other than, “You know Gov doesn't like smoking in the house.”
California shrugged. “Unless you plan on telling him, we won't have a problem.”
California pulled a lighter out of his pocket and lit the joint. He took a puff. “Want some?”
Georgia guessed he knew California smoked, but he never would have guessed he would be sitting in California’s room with California offering him a hit.
Georgia shrugged. When in Rome… “Sure.” He pulled the joint from California’s hands gently. “How do I…?”
California smiled. “You ever smoked tobacco? Vaped? Any of that?”
Georgia nodded. “Used to smoke tobacco but quit. That was the 80s.”
California vividly remembered the 80s.
“Well, it’s the same idea. Just a different taste and smell and a different high.”
Georgia took a small hit and immediately started coughing. California rushed for some water. “You okay?”
Georgia nodded. “Yeah, just wasn't expecting that. You do this a lot?”
California made a seesaw motion. “I have a lot of bad habits. Hopefully, a lot of them will stop due to me dating you. Not that you have to fix me, oh, Jesus, this is coming out all wrong.”
Georgia was getting more and more amused. “I get it, sugar. Just a question.”
California nodded and snatched the joint back. “Imma need a lot more of this.”
Georgia chuckled. “Do what you need to, Sunshine.”
Georgia had picked up the remote and was flipping through different movies. “Anything you want, hon?
California was happy he had someone to call him all these sweet pet names. He answered as honestly as possible, “Is The Princess Bride okay?”
California jumped on the bed, nearly on top of Georgia.
California kissed his cheek and rolled to the other side of him. He leaned his head on Georgia’s shoulder, grabbed the remote, and clicked play on the movie.
Throughout the movie, they passed the joint back and forth.
California quoted it word for word, laughing especially hard at “Mawage. Mawage is wot brings us togetheh today.”
Georgia realized how high they were both because he was laughing just as hard, if not harder.
Suddenly, Florida burst into the room. “Alta California. ¿Qué hiciste?”
California giggled. “Hola, La Florida. ¿Cómo puedo ayudarte?
Florida seemed to realize that neither California nor Georgia were anywhere close to sober.
Florida rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I understand how pissed you are with Texas. But Jesus, did you have to destroy everything that reminded him of you?”
Georgia, even in his state, looked seriously at California. “That’s why you left? To destroy all of those memories?”
California put his finger on Georgia’s lips. “Shhh…shut. He was threatening your honor. He wouldn't leave me alone. I did it. So what? That's it.”
Georgia didn't have the energy to scold California on how badly he screwed up.
Then he remembered how badly he screwed up with Missouri and realized that California's actions might be a result of his bottled-up feelings.
But neither he nor Missouri had done what Texas and California did to each other.
Maybe he'd scold California, maybe he wouldn't. He'd see once he got sober.
Florida sighed. He sat next to California. “Look, naranja, we need to work on your emotions. I know you have Georgia now, but maybe you should see a therapist.”
That snapped California out of his haze. “No, no, no, not again, no.”
Florida hadn’t heard this. “You've been to therapy before?”
California nodded. “He was bad. He told me Texas was my fault. He told me that trauma was why I was bisexual. He told me I should have fought back. He…hurt me.”
Florida knew California well enough to read between the lines.
He might have to make some people disappear. “When was this?”
California thought. “60s. He was approved by Gov, but looking back, Gov just signed off on whatever.”
Florida didn't need to make anyone disappear then. Probably.
California looked at Florida's face. He recognized that look. “New York and Nevada took care of it. It's fine now.”
Florida was still upset. “I just needed to talk to you about Texas. I'll let you two be. Tennessee is cooking tonight, so Georgia, if you want to bring Cal, that's fine.”
Florida, still upset, stalked out of the room.
Georgia looked at California. “Sunshine, do you want to keep watching the movie?”
Cal wouldn't meet his eyes. He nodded.
f*ck, Georgia still didn't know how to make him feel better.
He thought. What type of love would be best for California?
He liked acts of service. What would California like? He thought.
He remembered how excited California was to give him food. Maybe his was acts of service, as well.
But then he remembered how Florida always hugged him, holding his hand.
Touch could be it. Maybe that would work.
Or maybe it was both. He would see. Let's try touch first.
Georgia pulled him close. He rubbed his arm. California slightly relaxed. Georgia slowly pulled out California’s braids. “You okay with your hair down? I have your beanie here if that’s a comfort item.”
California finished untying his braids. Georgia looked at the waves the braids had created, and with his hair like that, he could see the resemblance to Spain and, by extension, Mexico even more.
Georgia had only seen Spain twice, but that was enough for him. He seemed infinitely crueler and more willing to take advantage of all his colonies, or as Spain called them, viceroyalties.
He had seen Mexico once, and while he didn't give Georgia the same level of unease, it was still there.
Georgia also knew that in the beginning, Florida was the jewel of the Spanish Empire. When California was taken, he had become the prized one. Florida was pushed to the side until his annexation into the United States.
Every country was shady, but at a lot of times, their government was the worst.
He didn't know exactly what they had gone through, but he could infer from the bits and pieces. None of the old colonies of Spain wanted to talk about it. If the conversation shifted to Spain, they all tensed up and tried to change the topic.
Even the old New Netherlands colonies had talked about their time under the Dutch, which was terrible. New York was always the prized one and Georgia knew he broke several times.
So for Florida and the Southwest to not even try to talk about it?
That sh*t must have been bad.
Georgia realized he had spaced out, and California was lying on his chest.
California seemed calmer. Seemed touch was a good love language for him.
At the swordfighting part with Count Rugen and Inigo, California smiled. He sat up and swung his legs over Georgia’s hips so he was straddling him. He decided to change the quote. “My name is Alta California.” He got closer to Georgia and tilted his head up. “You killed my loneliness.” He leaned his forehead against Georgia’s. Georgia could feel California’s breath on his lips. He whispered the last part without changing it. “Prepare to die.”
God, California was right. He would be the death of him.
The next time the line was said, Georgia flipped California over. California grinned like he was saying, I dare you.
“My name is Georgia.” He kissed California’s cheek. “You killed my sanity.” California let out a laugh that Georgia promptly stopped with a quick kiss. Georgia whispered the last part like California did. “Prepare to die.” Georgia left a lasting bite right under California’s jaw, where he knew it wouldn’t be easy to hide.
Georgia looked at California’s face. His eyes held a little bit of shock, but mostly?
They were darkened with lust.
Jesus Christ, the things he makes me want to do.
Georgia was fighting a losing battle in his head, too. He looked at the clock on the wall. Almost dinnertime. Not enough time to do the things he’s starting to want to do with California.
A knock on California’s door. He gently pushed Georgia off of him.
Georgia took a little pride in seeing his mark on California’s neck and a small tent in his pants.
Although it wasn’t like he looked much better.
California opened the door. It was Washington. California tried not to get upset. “Yeah?”
Washington sighed and rolled his eyes. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for accusing you like that. I should have asked more questions.”
Bullsh*t, thought California. Someone’s making him apologize.
Not wanting to get into an argument, California just said in a bored tone. “Kay. Sure. Bye.”
He heard Washington mutter, “And you wonder why you don’t have friends.”
California tried not to get upset with that one, even if he knew it was false. He had a wonderful boyfriend, a brother and one of his boyfriends, two parents, and many siblings to go with that. Who cares if Washington didn’t see that?
California shrugged. “Sure. I gotta go, so if that’s it, bye. I’m not staying for small talk. Especially not with you.”
He slammed the door in his face. California’s eyes were closed, and Georgia knew he was trying not to scream. Georgia didn’t realize how much the West hated California.
California was very upset. He pounced on Georgia and began kissing him hard. He bit Georgia’s lip, and when Georgia moaned, California slipped his tongue in.
This was not a loving, sweet makeout session. This was anger, frustration, and anything else California had bottled up inside him.
California nearly tore off Georgia’s shirt. He then began biting him all down his neck and chest.
These weren’t love bites. These were claiming bites. They all screamed one message- mine.
Georgia was extremely turned on. But this wasn’t how he wanted it to go. “Cal- oh God- California, hang on.”
California stopped. “Yes?”
Georgia had to think with his head and not his dick right now. “As much as I’m enjoying how fierce and rough you’re being, this ain’t how I want our first time to be. Sure, I may want it rough, but I don’t want it built out of anger and frustration.”
Hearing Georgia say these things seemed to dull the fire in California’s eyes. “Yeah. Sorry. I slipped, and uh, when I’m angry, that’s normally how I get it out. But I completely understand.”
Georgia now needed to get out of the lustful head space. California ran his fingers over the bite marks. Several of them were bleeding. “I’ll get something to clean those. They’ll be there for a few days, so just be aware of that.”
California opened one of his drawers and pulled out a tube of Neosporin and some isopropyl alcohol. He looked at Georgia with an apologetic look on his face. “Sorry if this stings.” He ran the isopropyl alcohol over all the bites. At some of the deeper ones, Georgia winced. “Sorry. Almost done.” He closed the bottle and got out the Neosporin. “This might hurt too, but less than the alcohol.”
He lightly dabbed the Neosporin on Georgia’s chest and neck. He looked at his work. “Should be good. Do you want one of my shirts or keep your old shirt? If you want to keep air on the bites, my shirts would be looser and longer.”
Georgia thought of how this would look. California wearing his clothes and him wearing California’s clothes was…hotter than it should be.
“Sure. I’ll take one of your shirts.”
California looked through his drawers. “Anything in particular?”
Georgia approached from behind him and put his arms around California’s waist. “Something that shows I’m yours.”
California handed him a shirt with a palm tree in the foreground and mountains behind it. There was a bear between the two. The print said “California Love.”
California doubted Georgia knew the song, but that didn’t matter regarding the shirt. Georgia slipped on the shirt. It went past his hips and was extremely loose on him. But it did show who he belonged to.
Georgia knew it was about time for dinner. “Come on. Time to eat.”
California grabbed Georgia’s hand and just about dragged him down to the kitchen.
