bubatron
Fandoms
- Sleep Token (Band) (111)
- Metal Lords (2022) (3)
- Stranger Things (TV 2016) (1)
Recent works
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Summary
Vessel is struggling with feeling touch-starved. II knows him well.
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Summary
The whole day, a stubborn image kept fading in and out of his mind, along with a heavy, sluggish feeling in his rib cage.
Someone holding someone else. That someone being small, safe, held.
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Summary
The sound of the front door handle moving had II up from the couch and rushing to round it and assess his friend.
He could hear wet squeaking and soft grunting as he presumed Vessel took off his shoes, then the man appeared in front of him, holding out a plastic bag with a slightly trembling arm, looking like he was used to enduring a downpour of rain every day when returning home, unfazed even with his hoodie hanging down on him, soaked through, hair not faring much better, stuck to his forehead.
“Shit, Vee,” II fretted. He took the offered bag containing their takeout and cursed again when he felt just how cold his friend’s fingers were. “Go, change before you freeze.”
The man shrugged, sounding entirely earnest when he said, “It’s not that bad.”
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Summary
The singer stopped moving his hand and glanced at each of them before tilting the can in his hand a little toward himself as if to check how full it was. “I’ve never kissed anyone,” he said, voice level, matter-of-fact.
“What?” IV frowned, head tilting to the side in confusion. He looked first at II as if he held all the answers but only received a shrug of his shoulders, so he turned to III next, then the man in question.
“I don’t have a worst kiss story,” Vessel explained, tone measured. At the wide-eyed expressions he received, he averted his gaze and repeated, “Because I’ve never kissed anyone.”
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It turns out Vessel has never been kissed. II, III and IV are good friends and make up for it.
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Summary
“Tired?” II asked, crouching down to his bag to tuck his notes away.
His question seemed to startle the man, making him flinch out of his daze. “Oh. Uh– yeah, I guess.”
Even from his periphery, II could tell he was chewing on his lip.
“Two?” he eventually called, almost drowned out by the sound of II pulling the zipper on his bag. He wasn’t looking at II but instead fiddled with a dog-eared page in his notebook. “Do you sometimes wish you could be a little kid for some time?”