I haven't done FedEx for the weekly oneshot in a while, which is a tragedy. So here ya go, for this week's oneshot: FedEx!

He wasn't allowed to be feeling this way at all.

He wasn't feeling anything at all, really.

His stomach wasn't fluttering, and his brain wasn't screaming, and his cheeks weren't flushed at all. And even if they were, he'd simply eaten something bad for lunch, because he certainly couldn't be feeling this way for any other reason.

No, Fitz's teal eyes were not the cause of the achy feeling in his throat and the hopscotch pattern his stomach was currently jumping in.

After all, Fitz was a Vacker. He was snobby, ignorant, just like the rest of his famous family. He was handsome and talented and...

Just about perfect.

Not that the thought had crossed his mind, because Dex certainly wasn't allowed to be feeling this way about the brunette telepath currently talking to one of the many girls that always seemed to flock towards him.

The sour feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn't jealousy, because the Fitz could talk to anyone he wanted, and Dex couldn't care less.

After all, it wasn't like he had any particular feelings for the younger Vacker son. If he had any opinion about him at all, it leaned more toward dislike than anything else- after all, Fitz had always ignored Dex and the rest of his family; there was no reason to be feeling as Dex was right now.

Not that he was feeling anything, of course.

Except that Fitz been talking to him more, recently- being Sophie's friend seemed to have its benefits (downsides, Dex was constantly reminding himself) and more of Fitz's real personality was emerging every day.

The sweet, compassionate side of him that brought Sophie little gifts and quietly listened and gave willing hugs (not that Dex had noticed, because that was just absurd). 

The part of him that raged and cried and broke when his father's mind broke and his brother betrayed them and his best friend ran. (Dex certainly hadn't tried to muster up the courage to comfort him; that was Sophie's job).

The side that laughed and teased and sighed and snickered and played pranks and was carefree (Dex hadn't noticed the small chuckles that slipped out sometimes when he was laughing, instead of the usual bright tone, as if Fitz had invented a new laugh to fit in).

But Dex wasn't paying attention to those changes, because Fitz mattered just as much to him as the small flowers growing by the path. The sort that could collapse a mountain and plug a river and make Dex fall in love with the wrong person.

...

Fitz really should've stopped the feelings before they made it this far.

After all, simply talking to Dex would have been fine. Being his friend toed the line a bit, but it was still allowed (within the unspoken rules that Fitz understood without having to be told).

But these feelings definitely weren't accepted in his family, and it was Fitz's fault he'd allowed them to grow for this long.

It was too late, now.

Denying them had worked for a little while (Letting his gaze flick past the strawberry blonde, allowing his feet to walk away before they came into contact).

Then simply avoiding him (Volunteering for missions that would take him far away, making up excuses to leave, ignoring the semblance of hurt that crossed Dex's face with each forced word).

It had worked for a time, and they were never alone together. Until that injury that Dex felt such guilt for, who's apology made Fitz want to wrap his arms around the boy and bury his face in his shoulder and never let go (But Dex left the room quickly; understandable, so Fitz kept his face clear of the disappointment and hurt that ping-ponged inside his chest).

And yet after that, Fitz sought Dex out whenever he could, and he couldn't seem to make himself stay away. Even as his mind screamed at him (That's not the way you're supposed to be, walk away) he always seemed to end up by the technopath's side.

And the butterflies were fluttering in Fitz's stomach, the lump in his throat outweighing his resolve until he was making excuses to brush Dex's hand and bump his shoulder whenever he could.

But these feelings weren't allowed, so he was limited to brushing hands and bumping shoulders, stolen glances and quiet, wistful sighs.

...

"I like you." The words burst out of Dex's throat before he realized he was saying them, and he cursed himself in the mirror. "Like, more than friends. More like a boyfriend type and-"

No, that wouldn't do at all.

He had to be controlled. Ready.

Brave.

But courage was in short supply, especially for matters such as these.

Dex willed the blush from his cheeks, because even though this was just practice and the face staring back at him in the mirror was his own, the thought of saying these words practically stopped his heart from fear and embarrassment.

"I think you're pretty great. Like. Personality-wise. Not that you don't look good, because you definitely do- not that- I-"

Dex dropped his head into his hands and groaned in annoyance.

Why did he finally have to allow himself to realize he had a crush (and quite a large one, too) on Fitz Vacker?

And what part of his (rather stupid) brain had decided to confess?

...

"You're pretty awesome, you know." Fitz made himself stand tall, even though his face was burning and probably bright red. He never got this nervous (he never allowed himself to) so why did Dex inspire this level of uncertainty in him?

"I think I'm in love with you," Fitz tried. But the words didn't sound right.

Maybe it wasn't love; after all, this was just a crush that would eventually blow over.

Right?

"I'm in like with you," Fitz grumbled at the mirror half-heartedly. But those words didn't sound right either. Maybe because they made no sense, and were absolutely ridiculous.

He had to be passionate. Prepared.

Brave.

But all of his bravado had abandoned him, and he was left with nerves and sweaty palms.

Fitz told himself to walk out of the door and talk to Dex, but his legs seemed to be aborting the mission, today of all days.

Stupid legs.

Perhaps he would blame them.

Fitz tore his hand through his hair. 

Why on earth had his smitten heart and besotten brain decided today was the day to confess?

...

The kiss was soft.

It was sweet, and comfortable, and just about perfect.

But at the same time, it was fiery and fast, passionate and intense.

It took over Dex's entire being, because the tension had been building for too long and now they were finally together.

His hair was soft as Dex's fingers wove through it, and his skin tingled where Fitz's hand circled his waist.

It wasn't their first kiss.

That one had been awkward, with noses bumping and dry lips and shaking hands. Dex's knees had almost collapsed under him at the first touch of his lips, and Fitz's arm had slapped a book off a table as it tried to reach for his cheek.

But they'd laughed, their faces bright red as they flushed, skin and lips tingling from every point of contact.

And now they exchanged soft kisses in the fading light, their thighs pressing together where they stood in the meadow.

Sometimes it wasn't perfect, with tears getting in the way or fingers fumbling to find the other's face, but that was fine. Because they were together.

And even if sometimes people didn't understand why they held hands or whispered to each other during study hall, or how they seemed to know each other so well, they knew.

It was their secret, and while sometimes they wished they didn't have to wait until nobody was around to wrap their arms around each other, there was a certain thrill in sneaking around.

And now this was their meadow; where they came to escape questioning glances and judgmental stares.

Dex knew that someday they would be caught, and their secret would get out. He didn't know what would happen then (Perhaps Fitz wouldn't be allowed to see Dex ever again, with his father banning him from the Dizznee's home) but he tried not to think about it.

This was the eye of the hurricane.

The spot of calm in a roaring tempest.

And Dex wasn't ready to let go.

Mkay I did not proofread that, and it's probably trash

but I'm posting it anyway because it's almost midnight and I'm sleep deprived.

So there it is

I love FedEx-

Any requests for next week's oneshot, or just any in general? They don't have to be ships, either, they can just be random stuff.

I have a oneshot planned for the next week, but I literally ran out of ideas. That's why this one isn't anything in particular, just a bunch of inner monologues thrown together.

I'm rambling-

Okay, tell me if you liked it, or give me constructive criticism! I'm always looking for ways to improve my writing!