Main Content

Archive of Our Own betaLog In

FandomsBrowseSearchAboutWork Search tip: buffy gen teen AND "no archive warnings
apply"

Skip header
Actions
Comments Share Download
Work Header
Rating:
Mature
Archive Warning:
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category:
F/M
Fandom:
The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Relationship:
Number Five | The Boy/Lila Pitts
Characters:
Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy)Lila Pitts
Additional Tags:
Mutual PiningFalling In LoveSexual Content4x05-4x06
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:2024-08-
10Words:4,051Chapters:1/1Comments:64Kudos:563Bookmarks:90Hits:4,225
night, play
thefudge
Summary:
Maybe that’s proof of love. The desire to grow strawberries together. (five + lila
+ seven years on the subway)

Notes:
obviously i had to celebrate our crazy lil ship becoming canon <3
could've never in my wildest dreams imagined we'd get so much delicious drama &
angst. i am SO grateful. anyway, this is basically just adding more scenes to
episodes 5 and 6, showing five and lila falling in love during those seven years in
the time bubble and the aftermath. hope you enjoy!

Work Text:
***

If death doesn't get you, time will.

He remembers reading that on a throw pillow in one of the Commission offices,

possibly the Handler's.

Most witty aphorisms leave him cold. But this one has some truth to it.

This one even stings.

Year Two is when he can't keep ignoring it.

He has to reckon with his growing attraction to her.

It’s not even attraction, really. It’s instinct.

That’s what he tells himself, at least.

They’re huddled together under blankets on the grimy subway floor and Lila is
moving too much, muttering something about being cold. Five puts his arm around her
and drags her body closer. Lila relents.

She’s lying flush against his chest. It’s kind of nice.

Until she says, “You better stop poking me with whatever it is you’re poking me.”

Five becomes aware of it too. His lower half's undignified response to their
proximity. He wants the train to run over him. His voice sounds reedy when he
speaks. “I – sorry – it’s just –”

He has never been comfortable with vulnerability, especially the physical kind. He
clears his throat. Tries to sound unfazed. “It’s just an involuntary biological
reaction. Nothing more.”

“Uh-huh. Can you tell your involuntary biological reaction to stop poking me,
then?”

Five begins to pull away from her.

But Lila grabs his arm and tugs it back over her waist. “Na-ah, mister. You’re not
going anywhere.”

“You just said –”

“I only told you to stop poking me. Not to stop being the big spoon.”

“Lila, we’re both uncomfortable –”

“I’m not. I find it sort of funny, actually. I was just teasing you anyway.”

“Thanks a lot.”

She smiles. “You’re welcome.” And then she wriggles her but against his hardness
for emphasis.

Five hisses. “Lila.”

“What? Am I making it worse?”

“You always make it worse,” he mutters.

“Do I?”

“Yes. Ever since I met you. Lest you forget, we’re stuck in this purgatory because
of you and your brilliant idea to fuck with time again.”
His voice might’ve carried more sharpness in the past. Now it just comes out weak.
Almost needy.

“Couldn't possibly forget that I’m at fault. You keep reminding me,” she replies
quietly with her back to him.

Five has spent enough time with her to know when he’s really hurt her. He feels it
in the way her body shrinks. Like she's about to blink away.

He opens his mouth to apologize, but Lila cuts him off.

“Also, you shouldn’t say ‘fuck’ quite so vehemently while your penis is still
lodged between my butt-cheeks.”

Five barks out a laugh. He can’t help it. She’s just so goddamn – he can’t even
find the word.

Lila giggles, wriggling her butt again.

They lie there on the grimy floor, laughing their heads off at this absurd turn of
events. Maybe a year ago they wouldn't have laughed.

Eventually, his arousal subsides. Lila mutters a weary good night.

Five tightens his hold on her. It doesn’t have to matter – what he feels in this
moment. It’s just another biological reaction.

Year Three is a little harder, because he sometimes wakes up with her on top of
him, head nestled under his chin. And her hands are everywhere. Literally squeezing
anything she can grab.

“It’s just nice to hold onto something when I’m unconscious,” she says, by way of
unconvincing explanation.

“And I’m the something.”

Lila nods. “Exactly.”

Maybe it’d be easier if he were a mannequin, like Dolores. Then he wouldn’t

actually feel things. And Lila would be happier.

His hands can’t help exploring either. They rarely sleep apart these days. And she
loves being the little spoon. And he’s always holding her waist. And his fingers
sometimes touch bare skin when her shirt lifts up.

One night, she’s yapping about winning another strenuous game of “duck takes
mermaid” on their improvised chess board, when she suddenly goes quiet as his warm
hand slides under her shirt and rests on her belly.

“Oh,” she says. Not exactly eloquent, coming from her.

“Too much?” he rasps, uncertain.

“N-no. That’s fine. It’s nice.”

He can hear her thinking. Lila shifts slightly and his hand slides a little lower.
Five swallows. “Still okay?”

“Mhm,” she says, a little faint. Then, more to hide her nerves, she adds, “It’s
actually sort of commendable that we’re only doing this now.”

“Doing what?”

“I don’t know…touching more intimately, I guess.”

Realistically, they’d touched more intimately than this in Year One when she’d
nursed a small bullet wound that had punctured his backside and he’d had to lie
shirtless in her arms. Or that time at the beginning of Year Two when she’d gotten
a nasty cut on her leg and he’d had to remove her trousers.

But all those times had been different. They’d been focused on keeping each other
alive.

This was intimate touch unprompted by emergency, or the need to survive.

More often than not these days, they touched because they didn’t need to.

“Five?”

“Yes?”

Lila places her hand over his on her belly. She moves it a little lower. He can now
feel the thin cotton of her underwear. So thin he could probably tear the fabric
just by poking it with his thumb. She had told him the other day they needed new
clothes.

His breath falls fast and warm against her hair.

“I want – I want you to touch me there,” Lila says, voice muffled by shame and
desire.

Five inhales sharply. “I – I want that too.”

“But we can’t."

"No."

"It would be – it would be really bad if we did that, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“What sort of people would we be?”

The kind we’ve always been, he thinks. The two of them, always a little askew,
always a little too happy to be doing questionable things together, even before
this subway business. Such a bad influence on each other, really.

“It’s just – biology again, isn’t it?” Lila asks and he can hear the creeping fear
in her voice. The fear that it might be more than that.
Five clicks his jaw. “Yes. We only have each other in this place and that’s why…
that’s why we crave this.”

He slowly removes his hand from her pelvis.

They both seem to exhale at the same time. They lie next to each other, barely
touching. Knowing they could, but shouldn't.

Lila sniffs. “Thank you.”

“Whatever for?” he asks, staring up at the dark cement.

“For being here. For...for keeping me sane.”

Five reaches out with his hand. He grabs hers. Their fingers lace so easily.

“Ditto,” he mumbles. Wondering if this is really sanity.

Wondering if he'd prefer madness, as long as he got to touch her.

Year Four is when she tells him “you know it’s weird, I never get bored with you,
no matter what we’re doing.”

Five frowns. They’ve been staring at the wall in front of them for the past half
hour. Literally watching paint dry. It's supposed to be the most tedious activity
known to man.

But he realizes he isn’t bored either.

“The cipher will be visible soon,” he says awkwardly, turning his attention back to
the subway wall. “And then we can cross it off the map.”

Lila nods. “Yep. Exciting stuff.”

Five runs a hand through his shoulder-length hair. He needs a trim.

“You need a trim,” Lila says, like clockwork. She’ll be the one cutting his hair,
after all.

Five tries not to anticipate the really nice feeling of her fingers combing through
his locks.

“Do you get bored with Diego?” he blurts out. Immediately wishing he hadn’t.

But it’s too late.

Lila cocks her head. “Honestly? Yeah. All the time.”

He shouldn’t feel this liquid warmth in his belly. He shouldn’t be so pleased.

He also shouldn’t push it. But he does. “Well, I’d imagine he’s still better
company than me.”

Lila scoffs. “Now you’re fishing.”

“I’m not. Just stating facts.”

“More like trying to get me to say you’re better than Diego.”

“Am I?”

“I just told you I never get bored with you. Then I admitted I get bored with
Diego. Why don’t you use that big brain of yours and draw the conclusion.”

Five can feel the corners of his mouth. He knows the smile is ugly and smug. He
can’t control it. “So you’d rather be here, watching paint dry with me, than be
with your husband?”

He sounds like the old Five, the bitter Five, the Five who could zero in on
someone’s weakness and exploit it.

But Lila has met the old Five. Lila likes his bitterness.

She smiles back. “Fucked up, isn’t it?”

He glances at her. “Extremely.”

And God he wants to kiss her right now. He really, really wants to kiss her.

It’s not a new revelation, but it’s older than he first realized. The truth is,
he's been wanting to kiss her for far longer than they’ve been stuck here.

“What are you staring at me for?” she asks, all fond and belligerent.

Five’s eyes drift down to her mouth.

Lila licks her bottom lip.

He turns his eyes back to the wall. “Nothing. Just waiting for paint to dry."

Halfway through Year Five he has this really embarrassing dream about her.

It starts with her giving him a haircut, like she normally does.

He can feel her fingers carding through his locks. He can hear the snip of the
scissors. Her body is close and warm.

"You're almost done," she says softly. "I know you don't like this."

But she's wrong. She's always been wrong. Five can't even pretend not to like it
anymore.
He doesn't want her to stop touching him. He wants to feel her close all the time.

He drops to his knees in front of her. Looks up at her with hungry, coveting eyes.

His hands cup her knees. Then come up to her thighs. He wants to take off her
jeans. He wants to rest his head on her bare skin. He wants to bury his face in it.
His throat feels so parched.

Lila hums. She parts her legs slightly, still gripping his hair.

“What makes you think you deserve this?” she asks, yanking his head up.

His scalp burns. Saliva pools in his mouth.

“I don’t. I don’t deserve it.”

In his dream, Lila smiles her pretty, teasing smile. “So why should I let you have
it?”

And he loves it when she condescends. He loves it when he has to debase himself.

“Please, Lila. I can’t – I can’t think about anything else. I need you.”

“How badly do you need me?”

Five is about to answer – about to humiliate himself further – when he feels a hand
on his shoulder, shaking him roughly.

His eyes fly open.

Lila is standing over him, face far too close. He can see the faint laugh lines at
the corners of her pretty, dark eyes. “You all right there, buddy? You were calling
my name like crazy.”

His cock twitches at the sound of her voice. He feels pathetic. He shuts his eyes
for a moment. “I – yeah. It was just a bad dream.”

“What was it about?”

“Um. You were trying to stab me with the scissors while giving me a haircut.”

She beams. “Sounds like me.” She rests an elbow against his chest. The small
truckle bed sags under them. They should probably find a new shelter soon. Always
another timeline, never the right one.

“It didn’t sound like you were in pain, though,” she notes, resting her palm over
where his heart should be. “At least...not that kind of pain.”

Five can feel his cheeks turning an awful shade of pink. Can feel his elevated
pulse too.

He pushes her arms away. “What can I say, I’m a masochist.”

Lila watches him roll off the bed. They should probably stop sharing one.

“That makes two of us.”

Year Six and they’re still trying to get home. But they’re both tired. And they
can’t keep fighting the other thing. It’s grown so heavy, like a lodestone, this
tension between them.

But she’s too proud to put down the weight. So he has to do it for her. He knows
what she needs. He always does.

“Strawberries?”

He smiles. “Strawberries.”

The greenhouse restores color to her cheeks. That and the running hot water. She
hasn’t been this clean or smelled this nice in ages. She twirls on the spot in her
comfy floral dress.

“You look nice,” he says, standing in the doorway, arms crossed.

Lila snorts. “Nice cable-knit sweater.”

Five looks down self-consciously. “I thought I’d have a change of clothes too.”

“Well, you also look nice.” She gives him a small curtsy. Then she frowns. “I don’t
know why I did that.”

They’re both awkward in this moment. Out of step somehow. As if this were day one.

Five nudges his chin. “The new batch looks nice.” He winces at the repeated use of
nice. As if they couldn’t think of another word.

Lila looks at the punnet of strawberries behind her. She picks one of the small red
fruit. She bites into the pulp. A trickle of juice runs down her lips. “Mm, it’s
sweet.”

Five stares at her mouth.

Lila picks up another strawberry. She starts walking towards him. “Here, have a
taste.”

She stops only when she’s in front of him. She lifts her hand to his lips.

Five looks straight into her eyes as he parts them. He tastes the tips of her
fingers too, as she pops the strawberry in his mouth.

Lila’s breath hitches. “Do you like it?”

And he knows he’s gone too soft. It’s not just this greenhouse and her in that
dress. It’s the number of years he’s spent pining after her.

His eyes almost plead. “Do you have to ask?”

So when in Year Six they finally kiss it feels like relief, like finally coming up
for air after being underground for so long.

All other pressing feelings in the moment subside and there is just this trembling
shyness, lips meeting clumsily, in fear that this too might be taken away from
them. She’s gripping his arms, trying not to slip against the strawberries. And he
sinks his hands in her strawberry-scented hair and he kisses her again.

And it doesn’t feel weird, even though maybe it should. She wonders about that out
loud. But not for very long. Now that they can kiss, now that they’ve allowed
themselves to do this, it’s the only thing they want to do. She wraps her arms
around his shoulders. Five grips her waist. There’s only her sweet mouth and the
strawberries.

Six months into Year Six she comes out of the shower in just a towel and she stops
when she sees him in the hallway. They’re still kind of new to this. This business
of being – well – not lovers, but something close to it.

Five stares at her bare shoulders, beads of water winking at him.

“Dinner’s ready.”

“Rabbit stew?” she asks, crossing her ankles. The towel seems to ride up no matter
how much she tugs it down.

“Uh-huh.”

“I’ll go put some clothes on.”

His eyes follow her as she makes her way to her room. She hasn't had her own
private space in a long time. They don’t have to share a bed anymore, now that they
have a whole house to themselves. Lila misses the warmth of his body.

It’s only a matter of time, though, until kissing won’t be enough and she’ll walk
into his bedroom or he’ll walk into hers. They’re just prolonging something
inevitable.

She can tell herself it's just biology. Involuntary responses.

But this is one line they can’t uncross.

And she wants to pretend that she has a choice in the matter. That she can go back
to a time before him. There are so many timelines, after all.

Lila drops the towel on the bed.

“Five?” she asks quietly.

The floorboards creak. He’s still standing in the hallway.

“Yeah?”

She doesn’t answer. She waits.

“Do you need me?” he asks. His voice is quiet too.

Lila ponders the question for a few moments.

She breathes out. “Yeah. I do.”

She hears his footsteps approaching, and she braces herself.

Her name means a lot of things in many tongues.

If you’re in the mood for a game, Lila is the very act of play. If you cannot
understand her motives she’s nighttime. Dark beauty.

But his favorite meaning is all of the meanings, concentrated in one person. Like a
cipher on a wall. Night, play.

He presses a desperate, aching kiss to her belly, tongue licking the moisture from
her shower, hands gripping her damp, slippery thighs.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

Lila’s voice is a little choked, but still daring. Still full of that delicious
spite. “So go on. Do it.”

Eight months into Year Six he still hasn’t told her about the notebook he found.
But he can’t.

Not yet.

It’s not just selfish. It’s reckless. Downright demented. And she will likely hate
him for it.

But he can’t give this up yet. The sight of her like this, straddling him, riding
him slowly, her face blank with pleasure. Her entire being focused on just the two
of them and no one else.

He’ll never get tired of this.

At least he can last a bit longer now. He’s built some stamina. The first time he
sank all of himself inside her he nearly came straight away. Lila wasn't helping
with the way she was nipping at his jaw and squeezing her thighs just right. Fuck,
stop, stop, I’m gonna come too fast, he’d begged, and she’d loved the need and
desperation in his voice. Obviously you can’t come inside me, she’d said, gripping
his cheek, but you can come on my tits. And that had pretty much undone him.
Crassness and sweetness and the salty taste of her, cleaning her up afterwards,
making her come on his mouth – it had been bliss.

It still feels like bliss, only more quiet now, a sort of slow burn where they get
to come undone together, one after the other, or both at the same time, his hands
on her hips, her hands in his hair, sharing one breath, one gasp, and that
synchronicity like some kind of timeline merge, like a hack in the algorithm,
something only the two of them could’ve brought to fruition.

How could he ever give that up?

He also knows that the possibility of going home would make her feel guilty, would
open up feelings and memories she has managed to put aside.

Lila is happy here. They’re both so happy. Why ruin it?

Then one night, as they're lying naked, Lila kisses him roughly on the lips and
asks him to come inside her. She’s got this bright, manic look in her eye.

Five breathes harshly against her shoulder. “Lila – no – we can’t –”

“It’s the one thing we haven’t done, isn’t it?”

“But you might –”

“Get pregnant? It’s not like your method of pulling out every time is risk free.”

“Still, the chance – the chance of it might increase –”

“So what? We're going to live the rest of our human lives here. A child wouldn’t
spoil that. On the contrary, it might comfort us in our old age.”

Her voice cracks with humor and want and pain. She’s given up on any other life.
She’s given up on any other family.

And it should please him. It should quiet all his insecurities.

But it doesn’t. Because he can see she is trying to break herself. To make herself
fit in this new world.
I want you to, she keeps saying, peppering his face with kisses. Just come inside
me. Please, Five. Please just come inside me.

And he feels awful about it. Because he really wants to. She feels so good. It's
not right how good she feels.

At the last moment, he tries to pull out.

But Lila grips the back of his head, bringing him down on top of her. She clenches
her legs around him. She digs her heel into his spine. “I told you I want this.”

He gives a shattered groan as he comes inside her, filling her up with his shame.

I aim to please, he’d told her once, kneeling in front of her, locking a bracelet
of metal scrap he’d made for her around her wrist.

Like some silly vow of love.

This is the only thing he can do, after all. Give her what she wants.

The next day, he tells her about the notebook.

Year Seven is really day one of being home.

It’s a cruel and cold world out there. There are no strawberries.

Steam mists her lips. Lila shrugs the snow off her boots. Five stands next to her
on the porch, looking like he’s about to get shot.

She smiles at him, though her eyes are wet and bloodshot.

“Please. Don’t – don’t be weird about this.”

Five chuckles. “Define weird.”

“We can’t let them know about us. No matter what.”

Five clenches his jaw. “So that’s it then. We just hide it forever. Like it never
happened.”

Lila nods. “Technically, it never happened. It’s on none of the timelines.”

“Ah. I can’t fault your logic there.”

“Five -”

“Do you still feel about me the way I feel about you?”

It’s his eyes that really hurt her. The way they plead and burn. Hers probably
aren't much better.

Lila shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me. And I think it matters to you too.”

“What matters is that we love our families. And this would break their heart.”

It would be childish to ask about their own hearts.

I hate this, he wants to say. But it would be superfluous. Like his feelings for
her.

Instead he squeezes her hand one more time. “All right. I’ll follow your lead.”

It’s always been about following each other. Chasing each other in the dark.

Blinking in and out of existence. Their own private labyrinth. If it hadn't been
the subway, it would have been something else.

“Do you love him?” Diego asks.

Because fool that she is, she forgot to take off the bracelet.

Not that Five was doing a very good job of hiding his jealousy.

Lila tries to deflect. But Diego insists. Do you love him?

She can feel Five’s eyes on her too, wanting to know the answer just as much. Maybe
more.

Lila doesn’t want to say it. Not because it’s not real, but because it might stop
being real.

Love was much easier to bear in a terminal point outside of time. What do you do
with it in this world?
Three days into Year Seven they are saying goodbye. But it’s not really goodbye. He
doesn’t like to think of it that way.

Lila extends her hand to him one last time.

At least when they blink out of existence, they will do it together.

“I wish we could’ve had more time,” he tells her as the durango and marigold slowly
swallow them whole.

He’s starting to regret this whole self-sacrificing business, even though he knows
they’re doing the right thing.

Lila squeezes his hand. “We should’ve stayed in the greenhouse. Grown more
strawberries.”

Five laughs.

Maybe that’s proof of love. The desire to grow strawberries together.

Your hair, that’s what it smells like, he wants to say. When he held her in his
arms on the platform as she watched the train carry her family away, he buried his
nose in her locks and inhaled greedily. And for a moment, he was back in the
greenhouse with her.

Lila stares into his eyes. He can see the fear there. But he can also see the
steadfast courage. The spark of the girl who always makes it worse, if she can help
it.

Five smiles.

If death doesn't get you, time will.

He'd like to amend the old saying. Death won't get you, and time won't get you
either. But she will.

He returns her warm gaze.

The dark is coming soon. But it won’t be just dark. There will be night, and there
will be play.

Actions
↑ Top Comments (64)
Kudos
FuriouslySappy, Unhinged_Tuna, crazysnail, gothzukos, Spritezz, prokma_fesgdd_sor,
DLmyself, ReadWish, unbadger, sunken_standard, Jiffermac, MirthfulMasochist,
darkside, MrGordo, monfivela, MintheReads721, Rowan_555, steampunkcircus,
BeccaSophiaC, TheExaltedQueen, Saya_Sultanova, sadlosernerd, HansoDax, dragonlike,
Djamarah, Ineffable_melancholy, StarryMcClain, oxfordmafiosos,
mentallyunstablemarvelfan3000, stoned_dude, Marianna_Leit, Kiliander, esvvel,
perrakai, Irony_Rocks, Whiteangel20, BillyK2020, Tigerpaws, missylane, kaia_blue,
Spacebeard, cevna, monkeyonthesun, LokiNightfury, Azweig, H9kkiaL2,
sammylikestoread, dodo_forever, Emeraldbuttercup, BoredlyBoringBoredom, and 329
more users as well as 184 guests left kudos on this work!

Comments
Post Comment
Note:
All fields are required. Your email address will not be published.
Guest name

Guest email

(Plain text with limited HTML ?)

Comment

10000 characters left

Footer
About the Archive
Site Map
Diversity Statement
Terms of Service
DMCA Policy
Contact Us
Policy Questions & Abuse Reports
Technical Support & Feedback
Development
otwarchive v0.9.379.1
Known Issues
GPL-2.0-or-later by the OTW