Work Text:
You’ve never been one to tempt fate.
Everyone has a few superstitions, right? Some may have more practical ones than others, but everyone has little maxims of life they always follow, so as to not invite any more bad luck into their lives than necessary. On your part, you harbor quite a few of your own:
Never open an umbrella indoors.
Never step on a crack in the pavement.
Pick up every penny you see.
And most importantly (and most frequently): knock, knock, knock on wood.
The last one isn’t what you’d call excessive, per se. Though you’ve taken to it more in the wake of trying to find new employment, it’s now just something you do, and you feel much better afterwards.
You just hadn’t realized that you do it in one specific spot so often.
——
Jerry gets you, you think. While you wouldn’t necessarily be eager to while away most of your hours in the somewhat cramped, dark quarters of the Junk Drawer, but you can certainly understand the desire of not wanting to leave the confines of your living space, so you can’t judge him all that much.
Slowly, you’ve been working on maintenance days; prying out a few thumbtacks from the soles of his shoes here and there, lightly untangling the mess of earphone cables just enough so they don’t accidentally tie his hands together again, cleaning out a slightly suspicious patch of mold, that sort of thing, all while spending some good quality time together.
You’ve been feeling good about things for a while, with him and with yourself. All the new objects you’ve been meeting have gotten you more optimistic about the future; you tire less easily and you smile more often. Jerry’s also shown noticeable signs of improvement: his pained yelps less frequent, his eyebags less prominent, and he grins at you like you’re his daily dose of sunshine every time you come around. You’re both happy together.
Hopefully this lasts, right? You should try to make sure it lasts.
Without thinking, your knuckles reach over and rap quickly, three times, on the side of his jacket — precisely in the middle of one of the square drawers on his right. Knock knock knock.
This action makes subconscious sense to you. You’ve been frequently stressed out over work, both in employ and out of it, and the world itself has been sort of going to hell in general. So it’d only be natural that you’d knock on the desk whenever you wanted to stave off incoming onslaughts of bad luck for as long as possible, and it’d be possible that a lot of these end up being close to where your hands sit all fidgety on your lap.
Jerry doesn’t comment on it, continuing on talking as if he hadn’t noticed. He doesn’t have to, because the sound of your knocks being the exact same as they usually are clues you into what you’ve done. Your face colors slightly and you retract your hand back to your side — you wouldn’t ordinarily think twice, but on something you now know to be sentient…
‘Ah — ha, sorry. Force of habit, I guess.’
‘Oh, I don’t mind!’ He blinks, the tag on his glasses bobbing slightly as he tilts his head to the side. ‘It’s not like it hurts or anything. Feels rather nice, actually. Ah, jeez, that’s a bit weird to say, isn’t it?’
‘Not weird at all,’ you rush to answer. ‘I just… it’s not bothering you?’
He plucks at a couple of stray rubber bands on his arms, the muted colors letting out soft twangs as he does. ‘Do you like doing it?’
‘…Yeah,’ you admit. ‘It’s comforting, in a way.’
‘Then by all means, go ahead! I have my own things to knock on, and if it makes you happy…’ Red suddenly flushing bright against his pale skin, he voices haltingly, ‘In a way, I’m like your… good luck charm?’
And again, it’s just something that he gets about you; what a sweet, wonderful man. That earns him three kisses (the rule of threes still applies, of course), and you take the liberty to knock a few more times while you’re at it to seal the deal. ‘Thanks, Jer. You’re my lucky charm, alright.’
His face lights up, eager to share another fact about his collection. ‘I’m the recipient of quite a good many good luck objects of yours, you know. I’ve got so many pennies I could probably buy — well, I could buy around four-tenths of a dollar, but, still, that's a lot, isn’t it? Let me see where they are…’
So the maintenance day goes on, and you both feel all the luckier for it.