Work Text:
Derapchu was hired to work for a far-away facility in the outskirts of the Farlands ever since he had quit BAT. After everything that happened with the Director, he wanted a fresh start. He immediately got accepted to this job with no prior interview- which was shady as hell but the pay looked really good (who’s still able to pay half a stack of netherite bi-weekly in this economy?), and the schedule looked flexible enough.
They just happened to have an open spot for anyone interested in assisting their HR department, which was vague and Derapchu had zero credentials for, but hey, how hard could it be? He already got accepted anyway. Jumper’s good with people and he’s always hung out with her, this will be a breeze.
Leo is gonna fucking kill me. No. Nufuli’s gonna haunt me for life- fuck, I hope he keeps Leo distracted. And SHIT, Jumper. Oh Jumper, I don’t even want to think about it.
Derapchu felt his soul sinking into the bottom of his gut, the life drained out of his face as he stared agape at the two Wifies(es?) in front of him. Their words going one ear and out the other, he felt like he was gonna puke this instant. He might as well just let the floor swallow him up right now.
”Derapchu. You’re zoning out.” The more familiar Wifies spoke up, snapping Derapchu out of his daze to finally take in who’s in front of him.
He was greeted by the unforgettable sight of the dark-haired, robotic appearance of the Director, the white trims on his netherite armor being a dead giveaway. While the brunette Wifies was working with his back turned to them by the lab table nearby, indifferent to the situation happening behind him. And for some reason, Derapchu has the feeling that he’s being watched by him either way. That thought scared him shitless enough, so he just turned to the other Wifies standing in front of him.
”… So you’re not dead. And you’ll kill me if I run now right?”
”Yes.” It was that short dismissive response Derapchu was all too familiar with, he used this tone all the time back in Paragon, it’s just that it didn’t have a voice changer anymore.
”That’s enough for introductions. Ensure he causes no trouble from here.” The Wifies in the back ordered, the first time he’s talked since Derapchu got here. It was creepily the exact same octave, accent and interval as the Director’s. His brain was busy scrambling to grasp this information to realize that he’d just been led out of the room already.
A heavy silence weighed on the two as they began walking around the facility. The Director occasionally explains the purpose of areas that weren’t self-explanatory. Throughout all of this, Derapchu was discreetly using his communicator to get a hold of his colleagues, or anyone at the very least to get him out of here. Everytime he had tried to type in their names, nothing would show, and Derapchu was starting to get an inkling that something was very wrong.
As if reading his mind, the other answered without prompt, “It’s pointless. This space exists outside the confines of the server.” He continued to walk as if this revelation was just one of the rooms that they were touring through at the moment.
”What? Does that mean I’m dead??” Derapchu blurted out, out of habit. He should be in the Farlands right now! How in the world could he have ended up anywhere else? Too distraught to control his emotions, he followed close behind Wifies in case he would miss a word he’d say next.
“No, he’ll return you once you’ve served your purpose,” Wifies replied simply, there was only one other “he” that Derapchu knew of besides themselves, “that is, if you don’t cause any trouble.” Wifies didn’t elaborate further after that, not like he needed to either, the message was pretty clear already.
Safe to say, the moment the Director dropped him off at his room, Derapchu fell onto the bed without any complaint. It was a basic, plain apartment with all the necessities you would find in any room of a noob’s house, except he wasn’t feeling at home at all. He was somehow transported into another server sometime after he got here and he was now working under the worst possible employer without anything he can do about it.
The chances that there could be more of that same person is just great too. He could feel the migraine threatening to start the moment he attempted to think about his name… the universe really fucking loves him. Like how could he be so naive? Doing all of this for netherite that he might never be able to use. He should’ve just stayed with BAT, he would even give up his previous position to become one of Jumper’s spies. Just anything to feel better—all he wanted now was to go back home.
What would Parrot do if he were in his shoes? Derapchu thought to himself, his exhaustion taking over his weary mind. He would’ve found a way to escape by now, even in a place like Paragon, he always figured a way out. He rolls over to his side, facing the wall as he hugged his knees. He kicked the blanket off the bed, trying to imitate the feeling of having control, it didn’t really comfort him though. Maybe they would have stopped me from leaving in the first place if I was half as good as him. He didn’t want to think badly of his friends, but even he could tell that he didn’t have much to offer in the team. They were better off without him, he would trade places with Nufuli if he could.
Derapchu fell asleep shivering that night, and he never really shook off that sensation for the rest of the time he was spending in the facility. He got used to it eventually though, he wakes up, showers for as long as he’s allowed to, eats sometimes, gets dressed and goes to work, and then repeat. It wasn’t too bad, at least that was what his false sense of security was telling him. Except for the uncanny environment filled with different kinds of Wifies (Wifi?), that was still hard to adjust to. He’s been extremely uncomfortable since he’s had the knowledge of them being clones of the brunette one with glasses.
Overall though, his job was pretty straightforward- it’s basically an interview that lasts for an entire day with a series of tests every so often. The inquiries consisted of things relating to human behavior and personality- he’s still unsure if there’s actually a HR department here. Oh, and why did they specifically pick him for this job you may ask? It turns out that they wanted to research more about human idiocy and ways to avoid it, apparently he was the best candidate among all of the applicants. What. Ever. The sooner he’s out of here, the better.
Today was one of those test days, so it took him longer than usual to get the hell out of everyone’s sight. He rubs his hand over his face, yawning as he fixed his hood back over his head. He was about ready to go back to his room for the day- when he noticed someone standing in front of his room. It was the Director. Okay… he still cringes calling him that in his head, Wifies was just a really confusing name around here.
“What do you want?” Derapchu bluntly greeted, unbothered to do formalities.
“I wanted to know about something.” It was still weird hearing him talk without the voice changer, he was used to the voice sure, but not on this clone that he’s unfortunately most acquainted with.
“Uh, sure. What is it?”
“… How has Parrot been?” A moment of silence passes between them as Derapchu regains his bearings.
“… Are you for real right now?” He couldn’t help but want to laugh, he has to be in some kind of fever dream. It was like he was back as a guard in that prison all over again.
“…” He isn’t kidding.
“Look, I haven’t spoken to him since, you know.” Derapchu gestures to the other’s white trims. “So I have no clue.”
“Oh.” The Director shifts awkwardly in response, his arms hanging at his sides while standing in perfect, proper posture.
“If you’re so curious, why don’t you go visit him yourself? Unless, it has something to do with that,” he pauses, “boss of yours.”
”I can’t exactly, I died so I’m permanently banned from the server,” the Director hesitated for a moment before continuing, “and he says I’ve finished playing my part.” Whatever that means, Derapchu did not care to find out.
”Okay, sucks for you man, just, could you move? You’re blocking my door if you mind.” He just wanted to knock out on his bed already.
Thankfully, he scooted out of the way and Derapchu was about to enter his room when the other spoke again, “I also wanted to know how you were doing.”
Derapchu sighs, turning the door knob before stepping into his room, “You don’t have to pander to me. I told you, I don’t know how Parrot’s doing.”
“No- I mean it, that’s what I wanted to ask first.” What did this guy think their relationship was? Best buddies or something?
“Sure dude. Whatever floats your boat I guess.” And before he had to stay for this conversation any longer, he shut the door behind him and went to bed.
Derapchu thought that would break contact with the clone altogether. But the Director did not stop dropping by after that, instead he became more insistent and mindful about what pissed Derapchu off. Everyday he would wait for him by his door, bring him food and even picked up on what the other liked to talk about. It wasn’t an unwelcome development, it was just too sudden to not be suspicious. And he was done giving anything around him the benefit of the doubt, so the new company tired him out more than anything.
“Do you have nothing better to do? Why are you here again?” Derapchu deadpanned as he arrived, greeted by the monotone face as usual.
The Director and his infuriatingly neutral expression replies, “I really don’t, I haven’t been assigned to a new server yet. And you’re the one I’m most acquainted with here.”
”That’s an overstatement, we’re plain strangers.” Derapchu waves the other out of the way, successfully freeing the entrance to his room.
Just as he was about to shut the door on the other, the Director speaks again, ”I owe you, you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me joining your server.” There was a perceptible sound in his voice that irked him, it was something close to desperation.
“… You’ve lost your touch, bro.”
“… What?”
“I might be dumb, but do you really think I won’t be able to tell that you’re pulling something mate? You owe me? Yeah right, you don’t give a single shit about me do you?”
For the first time in a while, the Director was rendered speechless. Derapchu couldn’t tell what he was thinking anymore. It was extremely risky for him to continue- if he dies here, wait, no, who would care? Haha, fuck it.
“I thought so. You fucking asshole. You’re actually using me as a means to apologize to Parrot aren’t you? You never change man, holy shit.” Derapchu’s been jumping back and forth on the threshold of going insane this entire conversation, he’s about to reach his limit.
“Don’t take this personally, I just thought this would be easier if—?” A punch meets Wifies’ face before he gets to finish, sending him stumbling backwards on recoil.
“I hate YOU so much! Notch, I hate this place!” Derapchu yells into the palms of his hands, finally letting out a fraction of the grievances he’s been keeping in his system.
It takes him a moment to register what he’s done, looking around for anyone about to execute or apprehend him for it. Nothing. Everyone was just going about their day like an incident didn’t occur. “Holy fuck, haha, you guys have no emergency protocols?”
”Do you see that as an invitation to keep punching me?” The Director fixes his head back into place. I keep forgetting this guy is synthetic.
”… No. Uh, I expected a more violent response from you actually.” Then again, nothing about this place is normal.
”I can’t blame you for it.” The hit didn’t even leave a mark on his face.
”Something’s telling me you expected my reaction.” Derapchu thinks aloud, squinting at the other with a frown.
”? You just realized?” The Director gives him a bewildered look.
”Not everyone is X2 bro, I can’t predict every little detail.”
”I don’t think you have to be—Oh. Hm.”
”What was that?”
”It’s nothing...”
”I KNOW that look!” Derapchu stares pointedly at him, his tone accusatory, “That’s the face people make when they don’t want to call me selectively stupid.”
”…”
”Get out.”
That was the end of their first unsavory interaction, although it was the first of many. Derapchu would chase the Director away from his door at the end of every shift, which opted for the other to drop the food he usually brought by the door instead. He still ate it anyway. At some point, since the Director had realized his presence was being tolerated more, this just fell into routine.
Derapchu spots the Director sitting against the wall beside his door on one particular evening. A strange deviation from their fixed schedule of avoiding each other. It only took a brief look at the Director’s downcast expression and disheveled hair to know that he wasn’t in high spirits, so either out of pure courtesy or pity, Derapchu opened the door to his room. He nudged the dejected figure with his foot to grab his attention, his own unique way of extending an invitation.
”Get up and come inside,“ he hesitates, “before I change my mind.”
It felt weird letting the guy into his room after all this time, wait, no, no he’s not gonna dwell on it. He’s not in the mood for dreading regrets right now.
“Tea?” Derapchu offers as he takes them out of the cupboard, the teabags happened to be one of the few things that Wifies dropped off sometime ago.
“.. Mhm.” The Director hummed, his figure slumped over the couch, much like a deflated balloon.
Derapchu took that as a yes to get some water boiling in a kettle he found in one of the cabinets. At least this place provided some appliances, it almost makes Derapchu forget he’s here against his own will sometimes.
“I’ve got lavender, lemongrass and uh, where did I put that other one?”
“Chamomile…? you left it on the counter behind you.”
“… Yeah, that. Thanks.” Did he have eyes on the back of his head or something? Well, not like Derapchu would be surprised if he did.
The Director just buried his face against the armrest in response, it sort of reminds Derapchu of himself, kind of, he’s more miserable of course.
He drops a teabag of Lavender in his own cup and Chamomile into another, he’ll just assume that’s what he wanted. Steam from the kettle starts escaping from its stout as the lid rattles, signaling the water’s come to a boil. After pouring the water, Derapchu carries the two cups over to the living room, taking a seat on the cushioned chair next to the couch before placing the Director’s cup on the table.
The other sits up shortly after, taking the cup with the same dejected expression he’s had on for the past 20 minutes. He takes a sip, and it lightens for a second or two.
“Okay, what’s up with you dude?” Derapchu finally asks, exasperation evident. “You’ve been sulking like a kicked and depressed dog, it’s disturbing honestly.” The Director in his head never showed weakness, unless it played a part in his schemes- if you can call them that. Derapchu can only assume he’s having X2 withdrawals.
The Director considers for a moment, his eyebags somehow looking heavier in the silence. “.. I left him alone out there, Derapchu. I… what if he never gets to live long enough to see his dreams go through? I can’t live, no, be dead with that weighing on me. He can’t live without me. What am I supposed to do?” He gripped the cup tightly as he spoke, Derapchu wondered if his fingers even registered the heat.
“That is the most obnoxious thing somebody’s ever said to me.”
“What?”
“The hell you mean what?, you said it yourself, if he can’t live without you, why go and die in the first place? We both know Parrot didn’t have the guts to kill you.”
“I…”
“And why do you keep babying that guy? I’m dead serious, you’re a doormat bro, you let him get away with everything.”
“You don’t know what he’s like, he never listens—.”
“Oh hell I do! I was too busy trying to be like him to realize that he’s insufferably competent at everything! It’s to a point that barely anyone ever tries to argue with him, it’s infuriating.” Derapchu huffs, clenching his hands around his cup as he stares down at his reflection, this is so stupid.
The Director doesn’t say anything more than that, either out of respect or contempt, Derapchu doesn’t know. He doesn’t care at all. They drink in the quiet, drowning in their own thoughts, their cups would go empty and their minds would probably be able to fill it.
“Do you regret it?” Wifies spoke up, Derapchu was too tired to look at him, mentally at least.
“Regret what exactly?” He humors him, not like he talks much with anyone else in this Notch forsaken facility.
He places his cup back on the table. “Trying to be like him.”
“Does it matter?”
“No. If you don’t think so, it never really will.”
Was this guy always so pessimistic? Maybe not, but it was a different time that only Parrot was most familiar with. Right, the Director wasn’t the emotional type, but it didn’t mean he was incapable of it. In his own way, Wifies was human too.
Derapchu stands up, taking Wifies’ cup from the table right after. “I’m going to bed after I wash these.” He walks over to the sink, turning on the faucet to let the cold water ground him. “You should too.”
Things became docile between them after Wifies got up to leave. Derapchu let him in whenever he saw him by the door and they would have tea or talk about the server or not talk at all. It kind of fell into routine after work, Derapchu would find Wifies with a bag of who knows what and he would let him inside. They had a mutual understanding between them, nothing more.
“I’m not your therapist, take this up with the HR department, not me.”
“The HR department is a ruse that got you here. It doesn’t existtt,” Wifies drawled in response, pressing his hands over his face.
“My point exactly? You’re searching for a solution that doesn’t exist.” Derapchu continued fiddling with the potted flower he took from the table, he was bored out of his mind.
“Try having a boss who barks orders and nags at you everytime you’re there, it’s making me lose my marbles.” Fun fact about Wifies, he never cusses, it’s one of the few things Derapchu found amusement in every now and then.
“Had is what you mean, mate.”
“Leowook isn’t remotely as bad as him, Derap.”
“Who said I was talking about Leo?” Derapchu rebuttaled.
“Oh.” Wifies absently rubbed at the trims of his armor. Seriously, does he ever take that off?
“Do you sleep with that on or something?”
“How else will you recognize me in the crowd?” Morbid, but good point.
“I mean, you can take it off when you’re in here, we're the only ones around anyways.”
“Hm.” Wifies makes a sound of agreement.
It takes him 2 minutes to discard his gear into his inventory, revealing his worn down yin and yang sweater and bandana; ripped and burned at the edges.
“Woah dude- No wonder you kept it on.” Derapchu remarks with a frown, the skin under the ruined cloth remains to be pale and pristine; it unnerves him a bit.
“… Yeah.” Wifies rubs at the back of his neck, his hair had grown up to his back, ruffled and uneven; he must’ve kept it under his chestplate all this time.
These were one of his tells that said: “I don’t want to talk about it.” And Derapchu wasn’t the type to push for it either.
“I can braid your hair if you want,” He offers, another skill he got from Jumper, he puts the potted flower back on the table.
Wifies considers for a moment, nodding before presenting his back to Derapchu. It was awkward at first, since this was the first time he was able to touch Wifies’ hair, he almost expected it to feel like nylon of some sort, but surprisingly, it felt like actual hair texture. He didn’t want to think about how the head Scientist got a hold of that to make his clones, so he took out one of the spare hair-ties he kept in his hoodie pocket to finish the job. He made two small braids that were tied together in a ponytail, he’ll probably experiment with more styles if he gets the chance to again.
“What do you think?” He watches as Wifies stood up to look at the mirror in the bathroom, touching his braids tentatively. Maybe it was too feminine? Honestly, Derapchu could only blame it on Wifies’ pretty face.
“I like it.” Wifies smiles at himself, maybe he’s seeing someone in his reflection. “Thank you, Derapchu.”
He looks away, slapping the flush out of his cheeks. “Don’t mention it.”
“… Why did you slap yourself?”
“There was a mosquito on it.” There’s no way he’s falling for him? Right? Right? Right? Holy FUCK.
Does this count as Stockholm syndrome? Derapchu asked no one in particular besides the bedroom ceiling. I mean, the only reason he’s here was because he had ties to the Director… but did he really play that big of a role? Indirectly sure, was it on purpose though? And didn’t he come here on his own stupid volition? Most of the blame lies on the scary-weird Wifies original really, but also himself. So it’s not Stockholm syndrome. Okay. He’ll be fine.
Just as he was about to relax, a thought kept him rigid, “… He killed Nufuli,” Derapchu murmurs, remembering an old friend’s gentle smile, a best friend’s grief, a colleague’s cold vengeance and an acquaintance in denial.
How could he fall for someone who did all of that? Derapchu was impulsive and headstrong for his own good, but the thought of forgetting all of those faces for the sake of his own selfish emotions wasn’t right either. Derapchu turns to his side, bringing the blanket over his face.
“Ouch- Derap, you’re pulling too tight,” Wifies grimaces as Derapchu tugs on his ponytail.
“Why did you kill Nufuli?” Derapchu blurts out, his fist tight around the other’s hair. “I know you were hung up on getting to Parrot, but you said Nufuli wasn’t of use to you anymore—which by the way, sounds pretentious as fuck! So why did you have to get rid of him?!” Derapchu was still holding onto the ponytail in full force, pulling Wifies’ head all the way back.
“… I’m- no… there wasn’t…”
“There wasn’t what?”
“I had no reason—I didn’t have one.” Wifies winced in pain as Derapchu pulled him back even farther.
He lets go, sending Wifies down onto his lap as he pants. Derapchu looked down at him, his braids were a mess and his bangs were all over the place. He couldn’t tell what expression he had, his own eyesight becoming blurry with tears. Why did it have to be him of all people?
“I’m sorry.” Wifies spoke up, his voice strained as he remained still, his head against Derapchu’s lap.
“Do you think that’s going to fix everything you’ve done? You’re fucked up. Ugh, shit, I hate you, I hate you so much.” Derapchu really wished that was the last thing he felt. He covered his face with his palm, he didn’t bother muffling his sobs.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry- Derapchu I don’t know what to do. I’m lost, I’ve been like this since I died. I can’t make it better, I can’t fix anything anymore, I never could in the first place.” Wifies covers his face with his hands, rubbing his forehead with a quiet gasp. Great. Was he about to cry too?
“Stop, just stop. You’re dead, at least you don’t have to make things worse,” Derapchu spat out, wiping his tears away with the sleeve of his hoodie. “You don’t get to have regrets, I can’t even say you don’t deserve it. You’re dead, you’ve repented, and that’s the most unfair part about it. You get to be here, and you don’t have to live and suffer like the rest of us do. You can’t have regrets, you can’t, because it’s over for you. While me, Leo, Jumper and Parrot, get to carry everything you’ve done for the rest of our lives. And you’re still unhappy, Wifies? Just because you couldn’t have it your way in the end? Fuck off, fuck you and Parrot man, ugh.”
Wifies didn’t make a sound in response, Derapchu couldn’t tell if he was stifling the noise or he was just frozen. Why did he care anyways? Maybe it might’ve been easier if Wifies was just the Director after all, and not disgustingly flawed and human(ish) Wifies too. It would make his life so much easier.
“Get off me,” Derapchu orders sternly as his eyes begin to dry.
“…”
He grips onto his arm, preparing to pull him off. “Wifies, I said get off.”
Just as Derapchu began to peel Wifies’ arms away- he finally registered the snoozing. You’ve got to be kidding me. This fucker hasn’t slept in days hasn’t he? Why did he have to fall asleep now of all times?
“… I’m not dealing with this,” Derapchu resigns, pinching Wifies’ cheek harshly.
Wifies stirs, blinking up at him slowly. It takes him a moment or two to regain his bearings. “.. It was worth a shot.”
“You’re not sleeping here.” Derapchu nudges him out of his lap.
Wifies’ head drops onto the sofa unceremoniously. “I’m sorry.”
“I know and I don’t care, now beat it.”
“You won’t forgive me?”
“That really isn’t up for me to decide.”
Wifies sat up. “I figured.”
“Then why bother asking?”
“I just thought your answer would be ironic.” There he goes vagueposting again. Wifies turns around to face Derapchu, taking out a spyglass from his inventory. He presents it to him, motioning for Derapchu to take it.
Derapchu, in mild confusion, accepts it. “??? What’s this for?”
“It’s Parrot’s.”
”Oh.” Suddenly, the object felt heavier in his hand. He grasped it carefully, inspecting the surface of the spyglass curiously. There wasn’t anything that seemed special about it, besides the fact that the material appeared to be newly restored, Derapchu couldn’t find it any different compared to any ordinary spyglass.
“It’s mine now though, he left it with me that day.” Yeah, no kidding.
“Well, I’m guessing you want me to give this back to him once the job is over?”
“… You’d freak him out.”
“That’s the point.”
It earns a quiet snort out of Wifies. “I should’ve expected that.”
“Looks like I’m getting better at being unpredictable.” Derapchu looks through the spyglass, zooming into the bags under Wifies’ eyes.
“That’s quite an achievement.” He taps at the glass, prompting him to zoom out of his face.
Derapchu takes one glance over the object, before tossing it back to Wifies. “It would be nice if you cared about people’s lives just as much as that thing.”
“It’s a character flaw of mine.” Wifies catches it, taking the spyglass up to his face, it was his turn to zoom into Derapchu’s forehead this time.
“And that’s why you’re dead right now.” Derapchu pokes the glass away
“Rightly so,” Wifies replied solemnly, before tucking the spyglass back into his inventory. Derapchu wonders if he’ll ever get to see it again.
It’s weird, opening the door for him the next day, as if they weren’t just arguing a few hours ago. Man this dynamic really isn’t healthy is it? He can’t find it in himself to forgive him, he never will really.
“Don’t start thinking you’re off the hook just yet, I’m still pissed off at you.” Derapchu sits next to Wifies on the couch.
Wifies replies with an apologetic nod. “I know, so, I sought a compromise.”
“And that is?” Derapchu crosses his arms, wariness and curiosity settling over his face.
“Punishments of your choosing, my death doesn’t corroborate my redemption… but this should at least allow you to have your peace, and maybe your friends’ too.”
Wifies wore a determined yet thoughtful look as he said this, he was being sincere. It was hard to say how Derapchu knew this, but he still found himself sighing in disbelief. It’s really always something new with him.
“You’re proposing a lot here, it almost makes me feel bad even. Are you sure about this?” Why was Derapchu being so considerate? He had nothing else to blame but his easy heart for being so lenient
“I’m sure, just do- or tell me what you want to do, and I won’t complain." He’s really serious about this.
He might as well enjoy it. “Well, no backing out now okay?”
“I know, I’ll try to provide to the best of my abilities.”
“For starters, I think Jumper would want you to burn everything you took before you died, from the armor, clothes, bandana and spyglass.” He raises his pointer and middle finger as he continues, “Leowook would tell you to shave your hair bald, before dyeing it into a neon purple once it grows back.” Thirdly, he raises his ring finger with the other two. “While Nufuli—.” Derapchu pauses, the image of a duty driven Bounty Hunter appears in his mind, a quiet huff leaving his mouth. He sometimes wonders what else he could've been if he had lived. “He’d want you to pay for damages and BAT’s yearly income on the front.”
Wifies nods, seemingly taking mental notes as he listens. “And?”
“That’s it really. Unless you want me to come up with one for Parrot? I just figured you and him already settled the score.” Derapchu commented with dismay.
“No. What I meant to say was- what do you want from me Derapchu? It only makes sense if you’re included as well.”
He thought of me? Derapchu needed to exterminate the butterflies he was having in his stomach, why was he like this man? It’s ridiculous. He snaps back to reality from the eager look in Wifies’ eyes. “Oh, right.”
“So..?”
“I don’t think I have anything in mind, mate.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Derapchu shrugs. “Well it’s my answer, I’m afraid you’ll have to accept it.”
“You gave elaborate and honest responses for BAT, but you didn’t prepare anything for yourself? You’re not being logical Derap.” Wifies persisted, his frustration seeping into his furrowed brows.
“It doesn’t matter, stop pushing it.”
“I care about you, it’s not—.”
“But why do you care? Nothing you’re saying is adding up either, we’re not friends, you know that.”
“I’m aware, I know it by heart. I just don’t want you to downplay your self-worth.”
Derapchu exasperated, “I don’t do that.”
“Give me your hands then.” He relents, watching as Wifies took them on his own.
“What’s this for?” Derapchu looked down, he couldn’t help but notice the tingle of warmth in having his hands held, it was a nice feeling.
“I just wanted to remind you, that in servers like ours, people don’t value their lives lightly,” Wifies absently rubs at his knuckles in soothing motion, “but the sheer number of us can make us forget how special each and every individual is. And even someone whose tenderness shines in every friendship can get lost in the quantity.” Wifies bows his head slightly, resting it against Derapchu’s shoulder. “So take it from me, and don’t take life with everyone around you for granted. Derapchu, I’m sure your friends are looking for you, don’t leave them in the dark next time.”
Derapchu inhales a shaky breath, “Yeah I’m sure they are, I just ran away again didn’t I?” He’s been too dense to realize, how could he be so stupid? Why did he leave them on their own? “I want to go home, Wifies.”
“I’ll get you out of here sooner, I promise.” Their hands interlocked, it was hard to discern through the blur of emotions, but at some point, his lips met against another.
It was short, sweet and careful, as if the two were terrified to break the balance between them. Derapchu’s back was pressed against the couch’s handrest, it was a bit dizzying seeing Wifies hover above him, an equally conflicted and fervent expression plastered on his face. The sight made him flush, so instead, he focused on planting pecks against his jaw when he drew near, keeping his mind occupied elsewhere as the other returned the favor by cupping his face.
“Hey ‘fies.”
“Hi Derap.”
They rested their faces against each other, stuck together as if gorilla glue was pasted against their skin. They’re so fucking weird, everything just is right now. But it doesn’t look like either of them minded that.
“… I like you more than I’d like to admit.” Derapchu turns away.
Wifies chuckles, playing with one of Derapchu’s hair strands. “You make it pretty obvious.”
You’re one to talk. Derapchu turns to face him, pinching the bridge of the Clone’s nose. “Say it back.”
“I like you too, Derap.”
Wifies’ smile was infectious, it made him feel giddy when he leaned in, sharing another kiss. It looked like they were getting the hang of it, sort of, it was hard to know how to get good at kissing when this was the second one he’s had his whole life. But they felt good at it, that’s all that mattered.
Derapchu turned them over, the two adjusting so that he rested atop Wifies this time. “My feelings are confusing, and we’ve got a lot going on mentally. So really, I haven’t thought about what I wanted to happen to you.”
“Likewise on the first part, and you don’t have to worry about the rest now.” Wifies pulls Derapchu down against him, playing with the ruffles of his hair once he was settled.
Derapchu considers for a moment. “That’s a problem for the morning, yeah?”
“Mhm.”
He hums, his eyelids fluttering shut, nestling his face into Wifies’ neck. “I’ll shave your head first thing tomorrow.”
“Another problem for the morning.” Wifies shuts his eyes with a nervous laugh.
“Night, ‘fies.” He relaxes, patting Wifies’ open palm.
“Goodnight Derap.” He grasps Derapchu’s hand, interlocking them together.
Eventually they’ll figure this out.
Eventually. (Yeah right).