#minus tucker but tucker can eat a bag of dicks

[whumpiary]

VIBES: Josiah's complicated relationship with being used vs his caretaker instincts 👀👀👀 thoughts?

@wildfaewhump, this ask literally consumed all of my waking thoughts for the better part of a week and then i forgot to post the freaking drabble i wrote lmao. thaNK you for these vibes. have some introspective, flash-backy Josiah with next to no context because u know thats how i do(content warning for: descriptions of an accidentally injured animal and implied self harm/self-endangering behaviour)

—

The phone only rings twice before someone answers. 

“Hi there, can you hold?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Josiah says, hand rubbing over the back of his neck

“Great”

And there’s a click before some chirpy royalty free music starts up, occasionally interspersed with a short jingle punctuated by cartoonish barks. Busy night at the animal clinic, then. Great. 

He’d nearly missed the dog as he was walking past, lost down the back of a dumpster. But he’d heard the whine, as though something had tried for a snarl or a yelp, only to have its voice snagged on a hook, and he’d stopped. Flashing his phone light, catching the eyes flashing in shadows, and then the dark reflection of blood on concrete, the leg tangled in barbed wire snagged on the wheel of the rubbish bin. 

The jingle for the animal clinic repeated itself.

He thought for a minute about maybe leaving. Hanging up the phone and letting this be someone else’s problem. But it was cold and dark and no one would be looking for their lost mutt at two in the morning.

Besides, it was hurt.

He couldn’t just leave it. It wouldn’t be right.

-

“You ever consider going a week without getting in a fight, Ace?”

“Why would I do that when I’ve got a pretty guy like you willing to patch me up?’

It stings a little, that comment, in a way Josiah can’t place. So he frowns and doesn’t say anything, finishes placing the butterfly bandage over the split on Cass’ eyebrow. 

“There you go,” he mumbles, washing his hands off at the sink “All done”

Cass grins, head hanging lazy against the wall. He knows better than to poke and prod at the injury with Josiah still in his sights.

“What would I do without ya, sunshine?”

“Don’t call me that”

“Sorry”

The sound of the running tap fills the room with gentle white noise and Josiah keeps scrubbing at his hands, even though they’re plenty clean by now. The water’s soothing. So’s the quiet. But Cass never does well with quiet.

“Maybe I like getting myself in sticky situations just so a pretty guy like you will patch me up, you ever think about that?”

Josiah turns the tap off, eyes flicking to Cass’ blossoming black eye.

“You don’t though, right?”

Cass’ grin flickers, falters.

“What?”

“You don’t get yourself hurt just so I'll…” he trails off. It feels stupid to even finish the thought. Cass was joking. It was a joke. “Nevermind. Sorry”

-

Josiah doesn’t like dogs, as a rule. He’s never really liked them; erratic and loud and jumping up when you’re not ready.

He had come across this one a couple of times on his late night walks. It was big and stupid and liked to huff a solitary bark across the street when it saw you but it never bothered him. It wasn’t friendly, but not brutish either. Gruff and harmless

The jingle cuts short on its fifth cycle. 

“Hello, how can I help you?”

“Uh, yeah, hi, I have a dog here?” the end of the sentence curls up like a question and he clears his throat “Sorry. I’m on the corner of Johnston and Park Street and there’s this dog-”

“Is it Trevor?”

Josiah blinks.

“What?”

“German Shepherd? Red collar with a yellow tag?”

He flashes his torch light again and the dog gives a half-hearted warning growl. Gruff and harmless and hurting.

“Yeah, I guess”

“Yep, that’s Trevor. Tell her to go home, she knows where she lives,” says the woman, with the tone of voice that she gets this call at least twice a week. She goes to hang up the phone “Goodb-”

“No, wait, hold on,” Josiah says quickly and there’s a spike of panic in his voice that probably comes across as anger and annoyance but at least she doesn’t hang up “The dog’s hurt. Aren’t you guys meant to come pick her up?”

“Hurt how?”

“Her legs all cut up from some wire or something”

The woman sighs and clucks her tongue.

“Trevor, you big idiot,” she mutters under her breath, and there’s a couple of clicks of a computer mouse “Corner of Park and Johnston, you said?”

“Yeah, the alley a little way down”

“Right, well we won’t be able to get down there for a good hour or so. You right to wait with her?”

“Um…” he takes another look at the dog, crouched in defense by the wall, leg mangled. Gruff and harmless and hurt “Yeah. Yeah, sure. What should I do abou-”

“Great. See you then”

And then she hangs up. 

Fantastic.

He slumps down against the wall, committed to stay in for the long haul. He wouldn’t have been sleeping anyway. May as well not-sleep in an alleyway babysitting an idiot dog. 

The dog gives another low growl as Josiah gets comfortable, but it’s not as committed as before. A rough rumble in the back of its throat. Like it knows it should at least try and put up a fight but it’s too cold and too tired and too sick of being hurt.

“Yeah, yeah,” Josiah mumbles “Growl all you want, I’m not going anywhere”

-

“I’m not leaving, Jos”

It’s Lou’s voice through the door. Like it has been for the past four hours, on and off.

“I’m not leaving today and I’m not leaving tomorrow and I’m not leaving the day after that. I’m not leaving”

He shoves his head under the pillow. He doesn’t want to hear it. He doesn’t deserve to hear it. Unfortunately, Lou has a way of being heard when she wants to.

“I don’t give a fuck what y- what she-” there’s a low thump instead of words. Heel of a hand against plaster. A long pause. “You’re more to me than what you can do, alright? I don’t care. I don’t give a shit about any of that. I give a shit about you”

He can feel his throat closing up with grief because God she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know how worthless he is now. She doesn’t know. 

He can’t help her anymore. He can’t help anyone.

And she’s gonna open that door. And she’s gonna find out. And then he doesn’t know what he’ll do.

He throws a lamp at the closed door and the light globe smashes into confetti, littering the carpet.

It’s a while before Lou bothers knocking again.

-

The dog has started pulling at its own leg, alternating between licking and gnawing at where the barbed wire’s digging into its flesh, undoubtedly trying to get itself loose. A terse “hey” had worked the first few times but now it’s aggressively ignoring Josiah’s attempts to distract it.

Josiah leans towards it, clicking his fingers to try and get its attention. It turns its head as he stands up, obviously recognising his intention to approach.

It starts growling at him as soon as he takes a step, teeth bared and hackles raised, ready to attack at the first sign of aggression. Josiah puts his hands up in a surrender that the dog is never going to understand. It gives a little warning huff.

“I’m trying to help you, idiot, calm down”

-

“I can do it myself,” says Cass, teeth bared like a beast as he holds his arm by the elbow, keeping the dislocated shoulder in an approximation of the right place. He’s always like this, when it’s bad. Small injuries, cuts and bruises, a sprain that needs strapping, he groans about for hours and demands pampering for. He’ll protest that he’s dying, yelp for a band-aid, declare his disposition to fainting at the sight of blood. It was when he didn’t want help that there was something to be concerned about.

Josiah crosses his arms, blocking the path to the door.

“You said that last time and then I didn’t see you for a month”

Cass’ frown deepens and Josiah knows he’s right. It feels good to be right. It feels good, too, to fight with him on this. To insist on something. To demand the right to help. 

“That was differ-”

“Yeah and you said that last time too,” Josiah interjects “And it wasn’t”

Cass looks up at him through loose hair, wisps of it caught on his forehead where he’s sweating from the exertion of staying up right. He presses his head to the door frame, squeezing his eyes shut tight against the world. His breath, on the exhale, is almost a whine. Like wind around a cliff. 

“Y'not my nurse,” he mutters, voice husked out “Don’t need help”

But he lets his arm get taken up as Josiah reaches for it. 

Josiah watches as Cass turns his head, as if looking away will mean he’s not actually getting help, not actually weak, not actually desperate. He looks tired.  He looks so damn tired and for a moment, all Josiah wants is to hold him. Tell him it’ll be alright. But it’s… That wouldn’t be right. 

“I know you don’t,” he says instead.  It wouldn’t be right. “Alright. On three”

-

He crouches down a foot away from the Shepherd, one hand braced against the wall as he reaches for the bulk of the wire. The dog whines as it tugs at its own leg, shifting to let him in closer. Josiah smiles, despite himself, and begins to untangle the mutt from the knotted mass it’s snagged on.

Then the thing bites him.

-

“The connection we have is such an amazing gift,” says Ellie, tracing the lines of his face in the dark with her fingertips. She kisses his cheek “Imagine how much more special it would be if it was a constant. If we were bonded properly”

She’s mentioned it before, in passing. In jokes. The same way you might mention dream houses or your favourite baby names. Just testing the waters. Just making sure the thought wouldn’t scare him off.

Something like pride curls in amongst the butterflies in his stomach. To be bonded with Ellie. With smart, beautiful, incredible Ellie.

 -

“Bastard,” he says, drawing his hand back fast and hard “Bastard mutt. I’m trying to help”

The dog gives a half-bark like it’s trying to argue, or maybe apologise. Stupid, dumb, gruff, harmless, biting, bastard mutt.

-

“We could help each other, baby. Share each other’s pain, share each other’s burdens. Not just emotionally but physically. Literally. How amazing would that be?”

“You mean like in sickness and in health?” he says, smiling into her hair.

Her laugh is like a river, like a current dragging him under, like the sea.

“Yeah,” she says, and God he wants to kiss her again “Yeah, something like that”

-

Josiah sinks himself down against the opposite wall of the alley, out of the dogs reach and holds his arm up to the dim wash of the streetlight. It had got his forearm, just above the wrist. Lucky to miss an artery. The pain wasn’t so bad, a dull tearing throb along the muscle but, fuck, it was still bleeding a tonne. He takes off his jacket, and then the flannel underneath it, before putting his outer layer back on. The flannel had been five dollars a million years ago. It could stand working as a bandage for a night, the jacket could not.

“You happy now?” he asks the dog through his teeth as he tears off a sleeve and pulls it tight around the wound, one handed.

But Trevor isn’t listening. The dog’s back to trying to tear its leg from the wire with brute force. Josiah kicks his foot on the ground but it doesn’t let up. It’s gonna tear itself to shreds if he lets it keep going.

-

It’s the second time he’s found Cass unconscious in a month. Head lolling back in his chair, pulse barely bothering to keep him from dying.

-

Fuck it. He’s been bitten once now. A second one wouldn’t kill him.

-

It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair that every time Josiah patches him up, makes him better, he does this to himself all over again.

When was he going to start giving a shit about staying alive? 

-

Josiah’s close enough to the pavement now that he’s near to a crawl. The dog hasn’t let up it’s growl but it also hasn’t snapped again which is good, he thinks. It keeps scooting back the further he comes in and Josiah’s close to giving up because he can’t speak dog. He doesn’t know dogs, he doesn’t like them. He doesn’t know how to tell it not to be scared. 

“Come on, you dumb mutt,” he says, offering a curled hand out “I just wanna get your leg free”

There’s a whimper and a pant as the dog pulls its head down and away, finally deciding that it’s too exhausted to put up much more of a fight. Trevor reaches her head forward, and after a few cautious sniffs, she nudges her snout into his hand, gives his arm a lick.

“Good,” Josiah murmurs, and he’s caught off guard by how good it feels to have won the thing over “Good dog”

-

“You know I’m not just friends with you because you help me out, right?” he blurts out to Mal one day, halfway through cooking dinner.

“Course not,” says Mal, with an easy smile, he barely even looks up from where he’s slicing onion “It’s at least sixty percent because Lou would kill you if you weren’t.”

“No, I mean,” Josiah stops, tries to ignore the sinking rock in his gut that’s trying to tell him he’s about to ruin everything “Even if you weren’t… I mean, even if you didn’t…”

Mal does stop, then. He puts the knife down carefully, places his hand on Josiah’s arm.

“I know, mate,” he says, with that quiet sincerity only Mal could make look effortless “You too.”

-

When the woman from the animal clinic arrives, Trevor’s resting her head on his lap, eyes sad and breath puffing out in steady heaves.

“Made a friend have you?” she says as she steps out of the car. Josiah gives the big oaf a pat with his good arm as she raises her head from his lap, clearly recognising the woman from the clinic.

“Barely,” he grunts, but his hand remains sunk in her coarse fur, and Trevor’s tail wags lazy. He shifts where he sits so the injured arm is obscured. No need for potential fussing over that mess.

“Well, thanks for waiting with her. I’ll take her off your hands now”

And Josiah watches, his back against the wall of alley and his arm still throbbing sharp, as another nurtured thing goes.

[itslight-ishred]

Valentine’s Day Dance

Okay, so I’m a couple hours late on this, but I made it through all the distractions to finally bring you my first completed fic in over a year! This is my gift to @mlm-benvolio​ for the RvB Valentine’s Day gift exchange and first time posting one of my works to Tumblr. Enjoy. (will fix formatting if needed) @rvbgiftexchange Ship(s): Grimmons w/background Docnut and Locoboose and mentioned Tuckington 1,800+ words    "Dude, if you don't ask him out, I'm not talking to you ever again."        The lanky red-head gave out a sharp, fake gasp at those words, closing his locker and holding the non-robotic hand to his chest and faking a hurt expression. "You wouldn't. Who else would I talk to?"        "Wouldn't I?" This led to a full two minute stare-down between them both before a taller boy came by and picked up his older brother, squeezing him tight.     "Tucker! I just asked Loco to the Valentine's dance!"        "Okay, if Caboose can ask Loco, you can totally ask Dex," Lavernius gasped out, struggling to get out of his adopted brother's tight grasp. "Seriously, though, what's taking you so long? We all know you like him. Well, except maybe Dex himself."    

   Slinging his bag onto his shoulder, Richard just thought this over a bit as the three headed for the student parking lot. Passing through the commons, they noticed Franklin hugging Frank tight, but not nearly as tight as Michael had done to his brother. The blond noticed them and quickly broke the hug, dragging his boyfriend over to them. Before he could even say a word, Richard stopped him.    "He just asked you out to the dance?"        "Yes!! Has Dex asked you yet? Cause then we could go suit shopping together!" As usual, his younger brother was way too excited about these things than anyone had a right to be, but Franklin had always loved dressing up and going to parties.         "Dude, you don't need to go out and buy a whole suit for this. Not like it's prom," Lavernius told the junior. "Just pick something nice you already have. And can someone please tell Rich here that there's no way Dex would turn him down?"        Franklin's head perked up at that, looking his older brother dead in the eyes. "Rich, if he doesn't say yes, he's an idiot and in denial. He's been over for dinner more this year than the last three combined."        "I rest my case. Now c'mon, I've got a baby who's probably driving my dad up the walls."        Once out in the parking lot, Richard looked around for Dexter's old beater that was in this horrible, bright orange with the doors painted an even brighter yellow. Apparently having sensed his rising anxiety, F.I.L.S.S. started playing music from his relaxation playlist through the headphones around his neck that were connected to his prosthetic arm. "Thanks," he muttered to the AI before speaking up to get his younger brother's attention, giving the keys an underhand toss. "I'm gonna go find Dex. I'll be home in time to make dinner, promise." All of the other teens smiled at him as he jogged off, going up and down the rows to hopefully beat Dexter to his own car.        Thankfully he'd made it just a couple minutes before the shorter senior came over, drinking a soda that he'd gotten from one of the vending machines. "Oh, hey, man. Not goin' home yet?"        "Told Franklin I'd be back to start dinner. Wanted to hang out with you a bit." Dex raised an eyebrow at this but just shrugged, unlocking the car and getting in. It didn't take long for Richard to realize they weren't going to the middle school to pick up Kai. "Uhh. . . ."        "Relax, she's spending the weekend with some friends at a sleepover since our parents are out of town."        "So you're staying home alone? All weekend?"        "Yep."    Somehow this felt like the perfect opportunity to finally suck it up and ask him. No Kai around to spy on them, and nothing embarrassing to try explaining to their adopted parents. So far, so good. When they got to the Grifs' house, both teens kicked off their shoes and put their backpacks by the door, Richard setting up Halo 12 while Dexter went to the kitchen to grab some drinks and some chips. He made sure the red head was getting a thing of carrot juice, while he grabbed another soda for himself. "So, what's up? Normally you give me a heads up before showing up at my car."     "Eh, just didn't wanna hear Franklin talk my ear off about matching suits with Frank or whatever. Also hoping to avoid having Tucker call me to complain how stupid it is that he can't invite Wash to the dance. Pretty likely he'd also complain about Caboose not shutting up about asking Loco out."     "Are those two actually dating or . . . . ?"     "Dunno. But they're definitely going to the dance together." They sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to play a couple practice games of capture the flag before deciding whether or not they wanted to do an online match. "So, uh, are you going with anyone? If at all?"     "Maybe? No one's asked yet, and I'm not sure anyone would really wanna go with me. You going?"     Richard just shrugged before recoiling a bit at a sudden, sharp pain in his arm. "Ow! F.I.L.S.S.!"     "My apologies. I must have hit a wrong nerve trying to move the fingers."     The taller teen glared down at his metallic arm for a second, going back to their game and attempting to continue the conversation. "Been thinking about it. Had sort of an idea who to ask. Besides, Sarge'd want me to go to keep an eye on Franklin anyway."     "Good ol' Sarge."     Feeling the AI in control of his arm in the back of his head and ready to send more shocks up his arm, Richard took a deep breath. "Do you wanna go to the dance? With . . . . me? Maybe? You don't have to, y'know, but if you want, it'd be nice. But you don't have to!"     "Dick?"     "Yeah?"     "Course, dumbass. Who else would I go with?"     About an hour later, the lanky teen found himself back home and in-between on steps in cooking dinner, Franklin bouncing in place as he sat on the counter, watching impatiently. "So?"     "So what?"     "Did you ask him?"     "Did Rich ask who what?" Sarge asked, coming into the kitchen to see what his boys were talking about.     "Richard asked Dexter to the dance this Valentine's Day," F.I.L.S.S. spoke up for the boy, knowing he was too nervous from earlier still to hold any sort of conversation.     "Bout dang time, son. You been fawnin' over him for the last four years now. How late's the dance s'posed ta go?"     "11:30 the latest," the blond teen answered back, their dad just nodding, knowing he could trust them both to not stay out too late.     Later that night, Franklin had texted Lavernius the good news, and the two proceeded to gush over this new development together, the older of the two saying he was afraid they wouldn't ask each other out until well after they graduated in a few months. The next few days were then spent with both of them trying to pick out a classy outfit to the dance, Lavernius saying he'd probably have to take Dexter shopping if the man had any hope of looking decent. So by the time the dance was there, their entire group showed up dressed in black slacks(minus Franklin who was in white with Frank), and they all had their own solid-color button-ups.     Loco and Michael tried splitting their time between the dance floor and eating snacks, while Franklin couldn't sit down from sheer excitement. Richard was too awkward to even attempt dancing, so he was glad to hang back and have some snacks with Dexter, making sure the shorter male didn't get the shirt or pants Lavernius had bought too messy. Speaking of which, he hadn't seen the darker skinned teen since getting into the main hall. This wasn't going to end well. . . .     "So, probably brought this up sooner, but why did you ask me here? I mean, we're not dating or whatever Loco and Caboose are."     "And you call me the dumbass. . . . I kinda thought it'd be obvious? I asked you out to the Valentine's Day dance. Should be pretty self-explanatory."     Dexter nodded a bit, eating a few more bites of his snacks. "True. But I wanna hear you say it."     Now Richard's face was starting to turn a similar shade of red as his hair, if just a shade darker. It wasn't a nearly full-body blush like Wash was known to get from time-to-time, but it did make his freckles blend together a bit. Just as she had last week, F.I.L.S.S. threatened to shock him again if he didn't speak up soon. Her personality had been really weird since Thanksgiving, he'd have to talk to Dr. Church about that.     "I- I like you, okay? I missed you a lot after you had to leave, and then you came back and I thought things'd be like when we were kids again, but it wasn't, and it still isn't, which I think is okay, y'know? We still bicker a lot sometimes, but it's not like when we were little. And you're always there for me when I need it, and you didn't hate me when you found out about me being a boy. Still can't believe you outed me in bio, though. I know, it was an accident. But you're my best friend, and I don't think I would've wanted to ask anyone else to come with me." Taking a deep breath, he started calming down a bit. "Honestly, it was probably a good thing you had to leave cause I think even when we were kids I had a crush on you. And I don't think I could've sorted that out on my own if you were still living with us."     "Huh. Good to know. I like you a lot, too. Thought about you the whole time I was gone. I mean, hard not to, considering you're why I was able to get my skin grafts. So even though you weren't around, you kinda were?" Side-eyeing the other, Dexter noticed the blush had gotten darker "So . . . are we dating now?"    "I think so? If you want to, anyway."     "Cool, guess I can finally do this," the heavier teen said, more of to himself, before leaning over and kissing his now-boyfriend, able to feel the heat radiate off his face from how flushed he was. It was at that moment that a bright flash got their attention, making them look up and see the overhead balcony where one Lavernius Tucker Church stood with his phone out, cheering in triumph.     "Finally! I've waited four years for this!" he cheered before running off to find his younger brother for safety.     "Wha- Tucker, no, I wanna dance with Loco more!" the younger boy tried telling him, as he tried climbing up his back and onto his shoulders. Lavernius just reassured him it'd just be for a little bit, to protect him from Dexter.     "Okay, Tucker's officially the group dumbass now."