you said i have to trust more freely - r.c series (four)
requested here; (one); (two); three
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader(the duff inspired)
word count: 5k
Why did it feel like his stomach dropped out his ass when Nate showed up?
It wasn’t like he actually expected you to choose him over Nate. The guy was practically perfect—your textbook version of what a guy should be. Clean, nice, predictable. The opposite of him.
But watching you hesitate like you were weighing your options right in front of him? That hurt like a bitch and he hated how much it did.
He couldn’t shake that look in your eyes.
Like you weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. While every time you were around, he didn’t know what the hell he was doing. It’d been like that since the beginning, even back at that party when you tossed your drink in his face after he called you that stupid fucking name. He could still remember the way you glared at him, cheeks flushed and eyes blazing. He’d been a cocky little shit, sure, but that fire in you? It hooked him.
Yeah, he liked messing with you. Always had. But lately, it didn’t feel like just messing around anymore. It felt different. It felt like he was doing it because he didn’t know how else to get close to you.
And now Nate was here, acting like he had some claim. Offering you lunch like it was some kind of test. Rafe should’ve laughed it off. Should’ve let you go. But instead, he was standing there, watching the whole thing go down, and all he wanted to do was grab you by the hand and pull you out of there. Away from Nate.
Away from all this... bullshit. There he was, full-on spiraling because of a girl. Because of you.
He knew he was developing feelings, had been knowing, which terrified him because it was unfamiliar territory—he was used to being in control and suppressing emotions, not feeling vulnerable or emotionally attached.
Because maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to be the guy you rolled your eyes at anymore. Maybe he was done playing the part of the asshole who didn’t give a fuck.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Rafe walked faster, trying to shake off the feeling. But he knew. It was the way you laughed when you were around him, even when you were annoyed. The way you always gave as good as you got. The way you’d looked at him today—like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as immune to him as you tried to be.
You were off having lunch with Nate.
The safe choice. And if there was one thing Rafe Cameron wasn’t? It was safe. And maybe, deep down, he hoped that was the reason you wouldn’t be able to walk away from him for good.
He kept walking, his footsteps loud in his head, like each step was trying to drown out the voice that was screaming at him to turn around. To go back and say something. Anything. But he didn’t. He wasn’t that guy. Not the one to chase after someone, to make a big scene. No, he was the one who sat back, arms crossed, and watched the whole thing play out like it didn’t bother him. Like it wasn’t tearing him up inside.
Rafe realized he was pissed. Not at Nate. The guy was just playing his part. But at you. No, not really at you either. He was pissed at himself. For letting things get this complicated. For letting you get under his skin the way you had.
It wasn’t like you were his. It wasn’t like he had any right to be jealous.
But damn, the way Nate had just swooped in like it was nothing, like it was so obvious you’d say yes to him. The dude barely had to try, and there you were, actually considering it. Maybe you even wanted him to. He stopped walking, running a hand through his hair, trying to clear his head.
Screw this. He needed to get out of here, away from the whole situation. Maybe blow off some steam, hit the gym, or go for a drive. But the thought of you sitting there with Nate, laughing, maybe even flirting—it was enough to make his jaw clench.
What if you were actually into that guy? What if all this back-and-forth with him was just... nothing to you? Some game you were playing because you liked the attention, but when it came down to it, you’d always pick someone like Nate?
If you picked Nate, fine. But if there was even a part of you that was feeling the same thing he was—if there was even a chance you weren’t as over him as you pretended to be? He wasn’t going to let you walk away that easily.
Not without a fight.
Rafe dug his phone out of his pocket, stared at the screen for a second. He could text you. Could hit you with some sarcastic line, ask how lunch with Captain America was going, but it felt... small. Petty. And, honestly, he didn’t want to come off as that guy—the jealous, insecure type. But not doing anything felt worse, like he was just letting things slip through his fingers.
He leaned against a nearby fence, staring off into the distance. Part of him was waiting for some kind of sign. Like maybe you’d ditch Nate and text him instead. Maybe you’d realize that this whole thing with Nate was boring, that you needed something more.
Or maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe you’d laugh and smile at Nate’s predictable jokes, and that’d be it. You’d pick the guy, the one your friends would probably approve of. The one who didn’t make you feel like you were on a rollercoaster every time you were around him.
Rafe kicked the fence post. He hated this. Hated feeling out of control, like someone else was calling the shots. Like you were making choices that didn’t involve him.
And yet, there he was. Waiting.
He was about two seconds away from hurling his phone into the bushes when it buzzed in his hand. His heart actually stopped for a second. No way. There was no way.
He glanced at the screen, and there it was—your name, lighting up his phone.
Every instinct told him to play it cool. Let it ring a few times, don’t seem desperate. But his hand moved on its own, thumb swiping across the screen before he could stop it. He brought the phone up to his ear, heart hammering in his chest, trying to sound normal.
“Yeah?” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, like he wasn’t dying inside.
And just like that, everything else—Nate, the frustration, the whole stupid back-and-forth—faded into the background. Because right now, you were calling him.
⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ
Lunch with Nate was proving to be exactly what you expected: normal. easy. boring.
He talked about his classes, his weekend plans, asked you a couple of questions about your own. And you answered, smiling, nodding, doing all the things you were supposed to do. But your mind? It was somewhere else entirely.
It was with Rafe. With the way he looked at you before he left, like he was daring you to stop him. Like maybe he wanted you to say something, anything, to keep him from walking out. And as much as you tried to ignore it, that little flutter in your chest hadn’t gone away.
“So, how’s studying going?” Nate asked, pulling you back to the conversation.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, it’s fine. Just... a lot,” you mumbled, forcing a smile.
Nate raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the fact that you weren’t all there. “You sure? You seem a little distracted.”
You hesitated, your mind flashing back to Rafe. To the way he’d been so close to you during your study session, leaning in like he had every intention of pushing your buttons. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way he’d talked about the bonfire, about seeing you as more than just someone to mess with. And for the first time, it felt like maybe Rafe wasn’t just a flirt. Maybe he was actually trying to tell you something.
“I’m fine,” you lied, stabbing at your sandwich with way too much enthusiasm.
But you weren’t fine. Not even close.
You knew why. Sitting here with Nate, everything felt... off. It was like you were trying to make this picture-perfect version of your life fit, but the edges weren’t lining up. You were supposed to want this—supposed to be happy that the guy you’d been into for months was finally showing interest. But instead, all you could think about was Rafe. About the way your heart had sped up when he looked at you, the way his voice dropped when he was being serious, when he wasn’t hiding behind that smirk.
God, why couldn’t you stop thinking about him?
Nate cleared his throat, snapping you out of it again. “You sure you’re good? You’ve been pretty quiet.”
You bit your lip, nodding, but it was like the words were stuck in your throat. “Yeah. Just... got a lot on my mind, I guess.”
Like how you might’ve just let Rafe walk away.
Nate didn’t push it, and part of you was relieved. The other part? It was screaming at you to stop pretending. To be honest, at least with yourself. Because the truth was, as much as you wanted to want Nate, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Rafe was the one you should’ve been sitting with right now.
And that scared you. Because choosing Rafe meant choosing chaos. It meant diving headfirst into something that had no guarantees, something that could blow up in your face. But it also meant feeling alive. Because with him, everything was more intense. More real.
As you and Nate left the sandwich shop, walking back to campus, you couldn’t help but glance around, half-expecting to see Rafe somewhere. But he wasn’t there. He was gone, and now you were stuck wondering if maybe you’d just made a huge mistake.
Nate smiled, oblivious to the storm inside your head. “So, you wanna do this again sometime?”
Your heart sank a little at the question. Because the answer should’ve been a yes, no hesitation. But instead, all you could think about was Rafe. About how you wished you were with him, laughing, arguing, feeling that electric tension that seemed to hang in the air whenever he was around.
You swallowed, forcing a smile. “Yeah, sure.”
But as the words left your mouth, you knew you were lying.
And Nate, being Nate, didn’t seem to notice. He was still smiling, probably thinking the lunch went fine, like everything was falling into place just the way he thought it should. But you? Your mind was miles away, stuck on other guy and the way he’d left without looking back.
You felt like you should say something to him, like you should be more present in the moment, but every time you opened your mouth, nothing came out.
Did you really want Nate? Or had you just been chasing the idea of him this whole time because it was easy, because it was safe? Because he was the kind of guy you grew up thinking you should be with?
But then there was Rafe. And the more you tried to push him out of your head, the more he stayed there, taking up space, making everything with Nate feel... dull in comparison.
“So, I was thinking,” Nate said, breaking the silence, “Maybe we could check out that movie this weekend? You know, the one you mentioned a while back?”
His voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you blinked, trying to focus. “Oh. Yeah, maybe.”
But the truth was, you didn’t care about the movie. You didn’t care about any of it right now.
“Hey, you okay?” Nate’s voice snapped you back again, his eyes narrowing in concern.
You plastered on a smile, nodding quickly. “Yeah, sorry. Just... distracted, I guess.”
“Well, if you’re busy this weekend, we can always reschedule.”
“I’ll let you know,” you replied, hoping he wouldn’t push it any further.
Nate nodded, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced. And honestly?
Neither were you.
By the time you made it back to your dorm, you were mentally exhausted. Nate had left with a casual wave and a promise to text you later, but as soon as he was out of sight, you let out a long breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.
You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone like a fucking idiot. But no messages came in, no missed calls from Rafe or anyone else. It was just you, sitting there, replaying the whole afternoon in your head.
Why did everything feel so wrong with Nate? He was supposed to be the plan. He was supposed to be your choice. The easy, right choice.
Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts. Your heart jumped in your chest as you glanced down, half-expecting it to be Rafe. But it wasn’t. It was Nate, sending a follow-up text about the weekend plans.
You stared at the message for a long moment, your thumb hovering over the keyboard.
What were you doing? Why were you still holding onto this idea of Nate when your heart was clearly somewhere else? Somewhere messy, complicated, and... dangerous.
Before you could stop yourself, you closed out of Nate’s message and opened Rafe’s contact. Your thumb hovered over his name for a second before you hit "Call."
The phone rang once. Twice. Your heart pounded in your chest as the seconds dragged on. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you should just hang up before he—
“Yeah?” Rafe’s voice came through the line, a little gruff but unmistakable.
You froze for a second, suddenly unsure of what to say. But then you took a deep breath. “Hey, uh... you busy?”
There was a pause, and you could almost hear the smirk in his voice. “What, finally realizing Nate’s not as fun as you thought?”
“Something like that.”
There was a beat of silence, and you thought maybe he was going to tease you some more. But then his voice softened, just like it had earlier. “You wanna meet up?”
Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah. I think I do.”
Another pause, and then: “Same spot?”
You knew exactly what he meant. The library, third floor, in the corner where you’d been studying. You nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”
“See you in a few.”
And just like that, the line went dead. What had you just done?
You hung up, heart racing like you’d just agreed to do something you weren’t supposed to. But wasn’t that the whole point? This thing with Rafe—it was unpredictable, messy, and completely off-script.
As you grabbed your jacket and headed out the door, you couldn't help but feel like you were crossing some kind of line. With Nate, things were clear-cut, easy. But with Rafe? It was like stepping into the unknown. You knew there was a chance this whole thing could blow up in your face, but for once, you didn’t care.
You wanted real. You wanted fire. And right now, that was Rafe.
As you walked to the library, the campus around you blurred, your thoughts spinning back to every moment you’d had with him. Every teasing comment, every cocky grin, every time he’d gotten under your skin without even trying. Maybe you had been pretending with Nate—pretending to want something you were never actually sure about.
But with Rafe? You weren’t pretending. Even when it terrified you.
When you reached the third floor of the library, it was quiet, almost too quiet. Your footsteps echoed as you made your way to the spot you both knew so well. And there he was, leaning back in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world, like he wasn’t the reason you’d been tied up in knots all day.
You rolled your eyes and crossed the room, dropping into the chair across from him. “Don’t start,” you warned, though the edge in your voice was weaker than you wanted it to be.
Rafe’s grin widened. “What, can’t handle me being right for once?”
You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Right about what? You being a total pain in my ass? Sure, I’ll give you that.”
He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand like he was amused by your whole existence. “C’mon, you know why you’re here.”
“So,” you started, trying to act casual, like your heart wasn’t pounding out of your chest. “I guess lunch with Nate didn’t really do it for me.”
He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “No shit. Figured as much.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept up. “Why are you so smug about it?”
“Because,” he said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table, “I knew you’d come back.”
Your breath caught in your throat at how sure he sounded.
Of course he knew. That cocky, self-assured grin of his said it all. He’d been waiting for this moment—waiting for you to realize what he had probably known all along.
And damn if it didn’t piss you off.
You sat down across from him, trying to hold onto the last shreds of your resolve, but it was slipping. Fast. Because the way he was looking at you? Like he was daring you to admit what you were really feeling—it was messing with your head.
“So, what now?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Rafe crossed his arms, biceps bulging in his stupid polo, like he was giving you all the space in the world to figure it out. “That’s up to you.”
That’s the thing about him—he could act all indifferent, like he wasn’t bothered, but you could see it. There was something behind his eyes, just barely kept in check. And it wasn’t nothing. It wasn’t just some game to him. Not anymore.
But you weren’t ready to give him that satisfaction. Not yet.
“What makes you so sure I’m not just here to tell you I’m picking Nate?”
That smirk faltered for just a second. “You’re not.”
You couldn’t be.
“How do you know?”
“Because if you were, you wouldn’t have called me.”
The way he said it—so simple, so damn certain—made your heart skip. He was right, and you hated that he knew it. Hated that he had this pull on you that no one else ever had. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny the truth. Not when it was staring you in the face, wearing a smug expression and leaning back like he had all the time in the world.
“What if I did?” you shot back, still trying to hold your ground.
He shrugged, that infuriating grin never leaving his face. “Then I guess I’d have to live with that. But I’m not worried.”
Lies.
You narrowed your eyes at him, “You’re so damn cocky, you know that?”
“I’ve been told,” he said with a wink.
You wanted to roll your eyes again, to act like he wasn’t getting to you. But he was. And he knew it.
You rested your elbows on the table, your eyes meeting his. “And what if I told you I wasn’t sure? What if I told you I’m still figuring it out?”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just kept his eyes locked on yours, like he was seeing right through the bullshit. “Then I’d tell you to take your time. Figure it out.”
The way he said it—so calm, so sure—made your stomach twist. He wasn’t asking you to pick him. He was daring you to. Because Rafe didn’t do half-measures. He didn’t do safe. He was all or nothing, and right now? He was putting it all on the table.
All you could think about was the way your heart was hammering in your chest, the way every part of you was screaming that this—this—was what you really wanted.
And that’s when it hit you: you weren’t scared of Rafe. You were scared of how much you wanted him.
“Rafe, I—” You stopped yourself, unsure of where you were even going with that.
His expression softened, just a fraction. “What? What do you want to say?”
You wanted to say everything. That you weren’t just messing with him anymore either, that you couldn’t stop thinking about him, that you were tired of pretending like Nate was some perfect choice when he wasn’t even in the same league. But saying all that? To someone who hurt you so much before?
He had that look, like he knew exactly what was going through your mind but was giving you space to figure it out on your own. But you weren’t sure. You weren’t sure if you were ready to say it out loud. Admitting how much Rafe meant to you felt like letting him win, like handing him all the power. And after everything, after all the back-and-forth, you didn’t want to be that vulnerable. Not with him.
“I know I’ve been an asshole,” he started, almost hesitant. “All those years, the shit I said—it wasn’t right. You didn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve that.”
Your breath caught in your throat.
He ran a hand through his hair, like he was trying to figure out how to keep going. “I just... I don’t know. It was easier to push you away, to act like I didn’t give a fuck, you know? Like messing with you made it better somehow. But it didn’t.” He paused, his voice softening. “It made me feel like shit.”
You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. You just sat there, staring at him, trying to process the fact that Rafe Cameron—Rafe—was apologizing.
He swallowed, looking down for a second before meeting your eyes again.
“I know I’m a mess. Hell, I’ve always been a mess. And I get why you’d pick someone like Nate. The guy who won’t make you lose sleep wondering what the hell is going on.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “But the truth is, I fucked up. I’ve been fucking up since the beginning. With you, with us. And I hate that I did that." He pushed back slightly, running a hand over his face like he was frustrated with himself. “I’m not good with this... with feelings. With being upfront. But I’m trying, okay? I’m trying to figure it out. I don’t expect you to forgive me just like that or trust me after everything I’ve pulled. But I want you to know I’m not the same guy I was back then. It sounds fucking insane, but I’m not. I want to be better. For you. Because, fuck, I don’t want to lose you to some guy just because I couldn’t admit I was scared of this—of us.”
You bit your lip, not trusting yourself to speak just yet.
“And look, I know I’ve made it hard for you to believe me,” he said, his voice softer now, more honest than you’d ever heard him. “But you should know that you’re not just some game to me. Not anymore. You’re... everything I’ve been too afraid to want.”
The guy who spent years acting like nothing could touch him, like he was untouchable, was now sitting across from you, pouring his heart out. And you had no idea what to say.
Your mind was racing. It felt like everything you thought you knew about him, about what you were feeling, was suddenly flipped upside down. You'd always assumed Rafe would never be the guy who’d sit down and admit he was scared of something, especially not scared of you.
But here he was, looking like he was waiting for you to say something—anything.
What? What were you even supposed to say? That you forgave him? That you didn’t? That you were still figuring out how you felt about everything? You weren’t even sure yourself. But you did know one thing—whatever this was—it was real.
You couldn’t deny that anymore.
“You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know that I’m not going to play around anymore. Not with you.”
Your heart clenched at that. And the thing was, you could see it in his eyes—he meant it. There was no teasing smirk, no cocky attitude. Just him. Raw and real and honest in a way that caught you completely off guard.
And suddenly, you realized that was what scared you the most. Not Rafe, but the way he made you feel. The way he pushed you to stop pretending, to be real, even when it terrified you.
You stared at him, feeling like your brain was short-circuiting. He was spilling his guts to you. It felt... unreal, and you were torn between wanting to laugh and maybe freak out a little.
All you could think was, How the hell am I supposed to handle this? This wasn’t what you were expecting. Not from him.
“So, what,” you started, leaning back a bit, trying to keep your voice casual, “you’re just, like, a totally different person now? Is this the part where you tell me you’ve been secretly going to therapy or something?”
Rafe’s lips twitched, but he didn’t fully smile. “No, not exactly,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “But... I’ve been trying to figure shit out. With myself. With us.”
With us. Your stomach did this stupid little flip at that, but you ignored it. “That’s a big statement, Cameron. You’ve had, like, two whole epiphanies and suddenly you’ve got everything figured out?”
He sighed, “I’m not saying I’ve got it all figured out, alright? I’m just trying to be honest for once. I’m done screwing around with you.”
His tone was sincere, and as much as you wanted to keep teasing him, the look in his eyes made your throat tighten a bit. You shifted in your seat, your mind running a million miles an hour.
“I mean, I guess that’s an improvement,” you muttered, keeping it light even though your heart was pounding.
Rafe raised an eyebrow. “You guess?”
“Well, yeah,” you said, crossing your arms and giving him a pointed look. “You were, let’s see, kind of a dick for a long time.”
He didn’t argue. “Yeah. I was.”
That caught you off guard. No defense, no excuses. Just... agreement.
“Okay, so... what now?” you asked, trying to play it cool. “You apologize, and I just forget all the crap from before? You’re really not making this easy,” you said, trying to keep your tone light, but your voice betrayed you, sounding a little too soft.
Rafe shrugged, that little smirk threatening to return. “Didn’t think you wanted easy.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to keep your composure. “You think you know me so well, huh?”
“Better than you think.”
Your heart raced. “Right, because I just love being confused and frustrated. It’s my favorite hobby.”
He chuckled, clearly enjoying this back-and-forth. “Well, you could always just admit that you’re intrigued. That might save us both some time.”
“Intrigued? Please. More like I’m questioning my life choices.”
Rafe leaned forward, “Hey, at least it’s not boring, right? I mean, look at us. This is way more interesting than whatever you were doing with Nate.”
You couldn’t argue with that. “True. But interesting doesn’t mean it’s not a total trainwreck waiting to happen.”
“Maybe,” he said, “But it could also mean something different.”
“You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh?” you said, trying to lighten the mood again. “What’s next? A serenade?”
“Actually, I’m not a bad singer,” he quipped, flashing that trademark grin. “But I think I’ll spare you the performance for now.”
“Wow, I’m overwhelmed by the humility.”
He chuckled softly, “You love it. And you know it.”
There it was again—the way he said things like it was a fact, like he could read you better than you could read yourself. And the worst part? He wasn’t exactly wrong.
“You don’t know everything about me, Rafe,” you said, your voice quieter now, but not weak.
His smile softened, just barely, like he heard what you weren’t saying out loud.
“Maybe not everything. But enough to know you’re not here by accident.”
It was easier to blame the pull he had on you. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t just him. You were here because something between the two of you, no matter how messy, no matter how confusing, felt unfinished.
You crossed your arms, trying to gain some control of the situation. “You’re awfully confident for someone who doesn’t have all the answers.”
“Not all of them,” he agreed, leaning back in his chair again, “But I know enough to know I’m not letting you go without a fight.”
There it was. That line you didn’t know you were waiting for. The line that said this wasn’t just some flirty game for him anymore. That maybe he was as scared of losing you as you were of admitting how much you wanted him.
And in that moment, sitting across from him, with all his defenses down and no jokes left to deflect with, you realized something terrifying: you weren’t ready to walk away either.
“Well,” you said, your voice softer, “I guess we’ll see if you’re really up for it, won’t we?”
His eyes locked onto yours, something serious flickering there for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah. We will.”
75 notes
·
View notes
Summary: Ken walks into the aftermath of Parrot finding out Wifies is actually a clone. He should be given sainthood for how little he kills Parrot.
notes: this is so not edited lol i wrote this in like. 3 hours between tasks at work. rip. this is vaguely set in the most recent UU episode in that i needed a setting and also a reason for ken wifies and parrot to be in the same place at once. no spoilers for the episode its just alluded to being the setting. uhhhh. i think thats it. enjoy.
word count for the curious: 2678. allegedly.
~~~~
Ken arrives in the meeting room with a hop in his step. He’s been looking for Wifies everywhere, but Dean let him know that Wifies was talking with Parrot, and now Ken can finally show him the little tricky trap he’s been working on! He’s proud of himself. It’s a really good design! So he’s hopping into the room like a rabbit instead of a cat.
Parrot stands alone at the head of the table, back to the door. Just Parrot.
Bleh.
“Yo,” Ken greets even though he still feels the urge to whack Parrot across the head occasionally. “I thought Wifies was here?”
“Did you know?” Parrot asks.
Ken can feel every single part of his body prickle with discomfort. He’s glad that Parrot isn’t looking at him, so he has a chance to lower his shoulders, and tail, and ears. And attitude. He knows, somehow, what exactly Parrot means by knowing. Ken shuts the door silently.
“Know what?” Ken asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“Don’t play dumb Ken. Did you know about Wifies being a clone?”
Ken breathes in slowly. He pulls his comm out and checks the playerlist. Wifies is gone. He was here only a few minutes ago when Ken last checked, which means that whatever happened, just happened.
“Did he tell you that?” Ken asks, opening Wifies’s chat.
[_Kenadian_]: where are you?
“You know, I was so confused,” Parrot turns around, eyes distant and face blank. “When I first met him, he was such a fucking asshole. Entirely full of himself. Still the smartest guy I’d ever met, though, so when all this stuff started happening on the server, I couldn’t help but think of him. I thought I was gonna regret inviting him, yet he was so quiet and nice now.”
[_Kenadian_]: wifies
[_Kenadian_]: seriously where are you
“He was always reserved, even before, but all these little things started coming up— he couldn’t remember things well, he’d talk about weird things in his sleep, things like that. And I couldn’t even. . . I didn’t know how to piece it together, and he wouldn’t talk to me!”
[_Kenadian_]: wato
[Wato1876]: Hey!
[_Kenadian_]: have you heard from wifies
[Wato1876]: No?
[Wato1876]: Isn’t he on unstable w/ you right now?
[_Kenadian_]: he left and isnt answering my messages
[_Kenadian_]: parrot found out, idk how, and now wifies is /gone/
[Wato1876]: ok I’ll check around for him
[_Kenadian_]: thx
“Are you even listening?” Parrot asks, and Ken finally looks up at him. His expression is one of desperation. It disgusts Ken.
“No,” Ken says, voice bone dry. “You yelled at him didn’t you? God Parrot, and I was just starting to respect you.”
“He lied to me this whole time!” Parrot explodes, eyes wild as he leans his hand on the table. “From the start, he hid this from me, and I only found out by— by sheer coincidence! He was talking to someone on his comm, and said something about being a clone, and I just—”
“Wait, who was he talking to?” Ken interrupts with a frown.
“I— I don’t know, they had a deep voice, talked really particularly?”
“Must’ve been Retro. . . Retro knows?” Ken mutters to himself.
The shame Wifies stews in every day because of his clone status is something Ken hasn’t been able to push past; Wifies always says he owes his life to Ken, but rarely does he bother to share his burdens with him either. Which means at least Retro seems to be getting through to him. . . It stings a little, but Ken has bigger fish to fry.
“So you did know!”
“Parrot, why do you care!” Ken snaps, turning back to his comm and searching for Retro’s contact information. Shit. He should’ve nabbed it off of Wifies earlier. “You drove him off! He’s not your fucking problem now, shouldn’t you be happy?! There! You cleaned your friends list of liars! Aren’t you satisfied with your work?!”
“I just wanted to know the truth, I didn’t want to drive him off! He's not a problem to get rid of!”
“Well great fucking job, man, go kick rocks or something. Fuck, where did he go?!”
[Wato1876]: Found him. He’s at the factory.
[Wato1876]: Ken, his comm is cracked right in half. He’s stuck here again.
Ken feels everything in him rear like a lion. He closes his comm and tucks it into his pocket. Slowly, oh so slowly, he stalks around the table towards Parrot, holding the hilt of his sword in a loose grip. Parrot follows his path with his eyes, feathers puffing out and fists clenched.
“Did you break his comm, Parrot?” Ken asks casually.
“No,” Parrot replies.
“Parrot. Tell me the truth. Did you break Wifies’s comm? Even by mistake?” Ken’s gums ache. He’ll dig his teeth into Parrot’s thin throat. He’ll rip his flimsy little esophagus out.
“No, no. I didn’t. I didn’t touch him. I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”
“I don’t know if you wouldn’t, Parrot, but I swear to everything you hold dear, if I find out it was you who broke his comm, you are going to wish I had just killed you instead,” Ken hisses out.
“His comm is broken?” Parrot echoes faintly, and it’s like gravity returns to his world, his feet landing back in reality.
“I don’t think you deserve an answer, Parrot, but yes.”
Ken tries to breathe through his anger. He’s going to believe Parrot for now.
[_Kenadian_]: ill be there soon
[Wato1876]: Bring a replacement comm?
“I was mad,” Parrot sounds wretched. “But not— I don’t care that he’s a clone Ken. I just felt like he didn’t trust me.”
Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder.
“I never trusted you, Parrot, not once, not for a single moment, but you made Wifies happy. I don’t know what he sees in you, but he was happy playing second fiddle to your stupid little orchestra on here, y’know? So I tried very hard to get along with you, so Wifies could stay happy,” Ken lets go of the hilt of his sword to press a sharp nail into Parrot’s chest. “You don’t understand the state I found him in before he came here, before you roped him into your stupid little games. He—”
Ken’s voice cracks and he curses, indistinct and abstract. He hates this. Leave it to Parrot to fuck everything up, just like Ken always knew he would with his lack of foresight and planning and brain. Parrot snaps up to grab Ken’s hand in a tight grip.
“Ken, I didn’t want him to leave me,” Parrot chokes out. “I just wanted to know, I just—”
“And look at where your wanting got him!” Ken spits out, yanking his hand away. “You want, and want, and want, Parrot do you even care what your wanting costs the rest of the world? What it costs Wifies?”
“He never says anything to me, he never—”
“Do you ever ask?! God Parrot, get out of your head for a minute!”
Ken runs a hand through his hair. Where is he gonna find a replacement comm? He might have something in one of the prison servers he frequents, but his head is scrambled, he can’t quite sort through his inventory in his head to figure out what he has right now. He may have one in his escape kits. . .
“Ken,” Parrot breathes. He finally realized what he’s done, it seems. Ken wants to stab him in the stomach. “Ken, I care about Wifies more than anyone else. You know that right? He knows that right?”
Ken pulls at his roots.
“I don’t know anything about Wifies right now,” Ken finally says, exhaustion creeping into him as his adrenaline runs dry. “I can’t contact him right now. He gets. . . bad, when it comes to the clone stuff. God, Parrot, what the hell have you done?”
Ken doesn’t wait for an answer. He leaves the server and lands in his solo world, scrambling around his storage before finding a dusty old comm he hasn’t used since he customized his current one. Landing near the factory is always a displeasure, but he pushes his feelings aside and enters. It takes a little searching, but he finds Wifies and Wato in the office, laid out on the floor next to each other.
“Wifies,” Ken says, more to say something than having anything to say, and he sits next to Wifies.
“Sorry for scaring you,” Wifies says. His voice is hoarse, and his eyes are bloodshot. “My comm broke. I dropped it while it was open, and I fell on it.”
“I brought you an old one I had laying around,” Ken says, bringing a hand up and running his fingers through Wifies’s curls slowly. Wifies closes his eyes. “What happened?”
Wifies doesn’t answer at first, just breathes evenly and relaxes each part of his body. He's so tense. Ken wishes he had killed Parrot.
“Parrot found out,” Wifies whispers. “I was talking to Retro. He’s been. . . helping me decipher some stuff from the notes. It was important. And I called him, and Parrot heard, and he was livid. That I hadn’t told him. That he couldn’t trust me. So I left.”
“He’s an asshole,” Wato says, and both Wifies and Ken turn to look at him in shock. “What?”
“Wato, there’s a reason why we’re such good friends,” Ken says with a grin. “Because I, too, believe Parrot is an absolute asshole.”
“You guys always knew, but I lied to him,” Wifies says. “I don’t know if he’s an asshole for being upset I didn’t tell him.”
“Yes he is,” Ken and Wato say together.
“There’s no reason to defend him out here,” Ken scolds, scratching Wifies’s scalp lightly.
“I don’t hate him, Ken,” Wifies lets out a deep, winding sigh before sitting up slowly. “Can I have the comm? I need to message Retro. Tell him everything’s okay.”
“Fine.”
Ken hands over the comm and Wifies thanks him faintly. As he boots it up and logs in, Wato sits up and gives Ken a look. Ken returns the look. Before they can descend upon Wifies and force him to talk about his feelings, the comm begins pinging wildly, messages flooding in and not stopping. Peeking over Wifies’s shoulder, Ken makes a disgusted expression at Parrot’s chat being at the top of Wifies’s DMs. Parrot is absolutely spamming Wifies’s inbox. Ken’s going to eat him for dinner.
“Ah,” Wifies says. He then proceeds to ignore Parrot to text Retro. Good. Fuck that guy.
“What does he want?” Ken asks, not because he really cares but because if Parrot pisses him off again, he can justify going at him with an axe.
“Maybe. . . Maybe not right now,” Wifies’s voice is weak.
The messages roll to a stop. Good! And then Ken’s comm starts ringing off like shots. Goddamn it. Ken pulls out his comm. It is Parrot. Awful. Now Wifies and Wato move to peek over his shoulder as his inbox becomes utterly unusable.
[Parrotx2]: Ken
[Parrotx2]: I’m sorry
[Parrotx2]: not to you
[Parrotx2]: well I can be sorry to you too but I’m sorry that I reacted like that to Wifies
[Parrotx2]: and I just need him to know that I’m sorry
[Parrotx2]: and I know you hate my guts
[Parrotx2]: but you said he was happy right? I made him happy
[Parrotx2]: I don’t think I’ve ever made someone happy by just existing
[Parrotx2]: cause fuck, it’s not like I’ve done anything for him
[Parrotx2]: Ken what the fuck did I do
[Parrotx2]: please just let him know I’m sorry
[Parrotx2]: and that I didn’t mean to blow up
[Parrotx2]: you’d think I’d be used to betrayal but with him, it felt so much worse than betrayal
[Parrotx2]: like I had failed to be trustworthy
[Parrotx2]: the reveal was a lot, but I felt more hurt than disgusted or scared
[Parrotx2]: I don’t care if he’s a clone
[Parrotx2]: I mean I care if he wants me to care. I want him to want me to care about him.
[Parrotx2]: I care about him in general
[Parrotx2]: plus whoever the guy before him was was a bitch
[Parrotx2]: he’s like so much better in a million ways
[Parrotx2]: not the point
[Parrotx2]: the point is my caring of him is not reliant on his clone status
[Parrotx2]: I can tell he’s got a comm now cause my messages are showing up as received
[Parrotx2]: does he hate me now?
[Parrotx2]: he has every right
[Parrotx2]: I can’t even pretend that he shouldn’t hate me
[Parrotx2]: Ken I don’t want him to hate me
[Parrotx2]: I don’t know if I can live with that
[Parrotx2]: I fucked up so badly
[Parrotx2]: the worst part is I trust him
[Parrotx2]: I made this whole fuss about trust and I still trust him
[Parrotx2]: of course I do, he’s the single most trustworthy person I’ve ever met
[Parrotx2]: I’ve slept in the same room as him for months and I never even worried
[Parrotx2]: he could’ve left or betrayed me or killed me literally at any point
[Parrotx2]: and he never did! even if it would’ve made his life easier
[Parrotx2]: what the fuck was I thinking?
“Ugh. Do you wanna talk to him right now?” Ken asks, turning his head towards Wifies. He gets a face full of sweet smelling curly hair.
“. . . I don’t know,” Wifies says, resting his chin snuggly onto Ken’s shoulder.
[_Kenadian_]: can you shut up. jesus.
[Parrotx2]: sorry
[_Kenadian_]: yes he has a comm now
[_Kenadian_]: he’ll talk to you when he talks to you
[_Kenadian_]: you made him cry yknow
“Ken!” Wifies hisses, cheek warming up where it’s now pressed to the side of Ken’s throat. “Why did you tell him that?”
[Parrotx2]: fuck I’m sorry
[_Kenadian_]: yeah he knows
[_Kenadian_]: just
[_Kenadian_]: give him some space
[_Kenadian_]: also dont text me like that whats wrong with you
[_Kenadian_]: i want you so dead its not even funny
[_Kenadian_]: this is the SECOND time you make him cry
“Ken!!”
[Parrotx2]: I
[Parrotx2]: what?
[_Kenadian_]: wouldnt you like to know bird boy
[Parrotx2]: why would you tell me that
[_Kenadian_]: you need to understand the consequences of what you do
[_Kenadian_]: wifies never lets you see but i do and i think you should writhe
[_Kenadian_]: you care so much? lets see.
[_Kenadian_]: writhe bird boy writhe
“That’s mean,” Wifies says as Ken closes his comm, but he doesn’t move a single muscle.
“You should’ve made it worse,” Wato says. “Should’ve told him Wifies was comatose or something.”
“Jeez, since when are you so vicious?” Wifies asks, but Ken is almost certain he and Wato are holding hands behind Ken’s back.
“I approve,” Ken says, bumping his head into Wato’s lightly. “Anyway, take as long as you want to ignore Parrot. Forever, even. I’d also approve of forever.”
Wato hums in agreement. Wifies sighs again, much lighter than before.
“Just a little while,” he says to Ken’s vast displeasure. “Just until I can stomach it. I shouldn’t have run away.”
“You’re allowed to do whatever you want, actually. Forever.”
Wifies giggles, and Ken finally feels himself relax a little. If Wifies is laughing, then it’ll be okay. He still feels anger pulsing within him like a second heartbeat, but it softens when Wifies bumps the top of his head into Ken's cheek. Not gone, never gone, but quietened enough to let Wifies speak for himself.
Ken trusts Wifies despite his own opinion. So he'll keep true and hold Wifies close no matter what.
“We still gotta talk about your feelings,” Wato says, and Wifies whines, trying to hide his face further into Ken's shoulder.
“It's so embarrassing,” he murmurs.
“I'd be embarrassed too if I cried over Parrot of all people,” Ken deadpans.
Wifies groans. Ken won't let him get away this time.
39 notes
·
View notes