Chapter Text
In all honesty, it was rather difficult to ignore the person you never meant to develop feelings for, when they were always in close proximity… and always doing surprisingly adorable things.
Uh, not that the child of Medusa would ever be crazy enough to actually voice that out loud, even if it might result in that strangely human face flushing in insanely-adorable embarrassment for a few seconds… or his alter ego turning a fun shade of purple at the revelation.
Hmmm, that might almost be worth the payoff of whatever Spectra would write about it.
Ever since the public ‘mutual’ break-up he’d had with Cleo (and that was a carefully crafted deception that seemed to have fooled everyone)... the blogging ghoul had been shadowing them both on and off. Mainly trying to find out the how, why, who and what now? surrounding the dissolution of Monster High’s main It-Couple.
Unfortunately, the Ghostly Gossip was rather purrsistent and refused to stop hovering on the periphery at all times… which made it pretty difficult for either of them to get within a dozen feet of their intended targets - without an update claiming something ludicrous. Just last week Spectra had raised questions about whether or not Cleo De Nile herself had designs on Abbey Bominable - all because they’d spent the entirety of Study Howl together chatting instead of working… and he didn’t even want to think about that article speculating what went on in the mansters’ locker room after he played a game.
She was way out of line, but the Headless Headmistress was away this month, so there was no one to reign in her more… uh, creative impulses.
It wouldn’t be so bad, if only that crazy ghostie ghoul would fact check before going off half-cocked to type out whatever her -admittedly vivid and oft-times fascinating- imagination deemed a fitting series of false facts to elaborate on whatever ‘ground-breaking story’ she’d concocted from half-truths and rumour. Sighing, Deuce made a quick sweep of the area from under his protective visor and made for the locker he’d been assigned, frustratingly close to that of the bloodie he’d started to think of as more than a friend…
~
Some might consider the boy nothing more than the human freaky-flaw of the popular party monster, DJ Holt Hyde, but anyone who spent more than a few minutes with either of them began to realise just how surprisingly similar they were underneath the overt visual differences. Deuce always liked how Jackson would light up if he was included in a statement under the ‘monsters’ banner, no snarky ‘not to mention the normie in the room’ comment thrown in…
From the gorgon’s perspective, classing them both as something monsterial made more sense than the ‘half-human’ label did… because really, this was Monster High -and that wasn’t just a name. A lot of the things they did in this educational haven for the next generation of monsters would kill a normie stone-dead!
From something as inane as creepateria food, to Frankie’s random lightning strike-like sparks… not to mention what the Mad-Scientist-in-the-making was like in class, alongside the school’s other resident genius, Ghoulia. After the last explosion (they both swore hadn’t been deliberate… yet their elated expressions said otherwise), the Mad Science lab, and half the neighbouring Biteology lab, had burned purple flames for near on a week…
…the Headless Headmistress was still having Nightmare keep a not-so-discreet eye on them even now, months after the latest incident. Well, latest incident she knew about… there were a few unofficial experiments being run in the catacombs she’d sell her head to know about before they blew.
Whatever Holt and Jackson were, officially, no one knew… but Deuce was sure it fell under the vague category of fire-proof monster; based on all the evidence he could muster by paying close, totally-not-stalkery-attention, to the pair.
There were other things he knew about them that most others did not, too…
Like how Jackson loved rain while Holt hated it, how sunburns never seemed to transfer over to the other personality but papercuts did… that they communicated through video chat when they thought no one was looking, not yet having mastered internal communication like their mothers had; and how, in recent times, Holt had managed to combine their favourite foods to both their satisfactions (and the utter horror of the Home Ick Creature, Mrs Kindegrubber).
He also knew how their chameleon Crossfade used to shift colour schemes for each of them individually, that both of them looked equally adorkable in Jackson’s glasses or Holt’s (ironically) fire-engine red jacket… and the gorgon was especially hyper-aware of how Jackson seemed to be spending far more time with Toralei and her werekitty posse recently.
This last action being something that even Holt was openly disapproving of.
And considering Holt had a long, long list of things to his name that Jackson had marked down as ‘questionable’, [which was apparently the Jekyll equivalent of ‘Oh my Ra, tell me you didn’t…’] so this was fairly significant. Normally Holt was all for Jackson making new friends and making crazy decisions… fully endorsing that one time they must never speak of again, involving a half-dozen feather boas, their new tongue piercing, the soundtrack to FROZEN and a now-broken Chandelier. Deuce retained the only photographic evidence of that incident on his phone… it was a spooktacular night…
‘...-ot saying don’t have friends, bro… just that there’s got to be another reason for her sudden over-friendliness, Jacks… trust me, stay away from them! Tora’s a cool ghoul but… she must want something...’ he’d overheard Holt telling Jackson via iCoffin, just prior to practically scaring the normie-like monster out of his skin when his presence was realised.
The iCoffin hastily stashed, Holt’s voice continuing, muffled, from his pocket as they both had pretended not to hear it. That the pair were communicating externally was not a thing they wanted to spread about, public knowledge could be dangerous… especially if someone decided to see what they conversed about by going through their iCoffin and watching their confursations.
Deuce and Operetta were the only ones who knew about it, at the moment… not even Frankie was aware. Which hadn’t exactly helped his predicament, Deuce realised in frustration, because the more the other(s) trusted and relied on him… the harder it got to hide his… growing affections.
He couldn’t help but concur with Holt’s assessment of the situation, though, even if he’d pretended to be oblivious to the whole thing. Toralei rarely ever did something unless it was for her own benefit… but Jackson was such an open, trusting, occasionally intensely-sarcastic, person to know -once you managed to get under that monstrous wall of caution, suspicion and self-defense that had built up over the years, that is.
And somehow… Toralei had in record time; dragging Meowlody and Purrsephone along for the ride. Even Heath was confused, because it was unusual to say the least, especially since Holt was so reluctant to the whole thing, and the pair tended to share attitudes towards non-musical things (especially more recently after the Frankie-vention, where she demanded they talk, work things out and stop being so polar about things for the sheer sake of causing minor chaos).
The whole situation had concerned Deuce, to be honest. Even after initially asking the other to sit at their table for lunch on that first day; all polite inquiry at that time, and for a solid fortnight afterwards, had been met with one-word answers or clever attempts to sidetrack the confursation. Of the sort that he’d only recognised, and successfully countered, after years of deploying them against Cleo.
It was a defense mechanism, hard-won, ingrained and not easy to turn off… so he’d let Jackson come around to the realisation that Deuce was totally his bro, someone to trust when he thought no one else was on his side, on his own. Though this tactic had worked, it had taken several long weeks… still, it was something he’d taken as a major victory; Jackson was an awesome friend to have, and he suddenly understood why Cleo and Ghoulia were always so tight despite seeming so vastly different in attitudes, interests and personalities.
Yet, Toralei and the twins seemed to have hurdled that barricade, in a heart-beat. Their sudden friendship seemed to have come out of nowhere - quite literally. One day they didn’t even make eye-contact in the hallway and the next… Jackson was apparently a werekat magnet. Neither party seemed inclined to ela-boo-rate on the how or why of their strange union, as if in-fur-ing that the rest of the school should simply know this infurmation already.
Okay, so admittedly, Deuce was pretty damn jealous of the whole situation… but he was equally worried about the werekitty’s intentions for this strange relationship she’d constructed with Jackson. This might blow up into something huge that would freak the other into ‘leaving’, which would mean that Holt would be present for the rest of their time at Monster High… it’s not like they didn’t have the technology to make super-charged iCoffin batteries with the odds-and-ends available in the Mad Science labs, so it was a plausible paranoia on the Gorgon’s behalf.
On the other hand, nothing seemed to be happening on that front -aside from a few hushed confursations, the quartet sitting together in one of the trees outside reading during quiet moments, and occasionally sharing lunch amongst the four of them.
Suspicious, but nothing they could prove as a potential set-up.
Frankie had confided to Cleo she hoped this was a positive step for Toralei, finding a new friend like Jackson, who was one of those people that brought out the kind, and more often than not, protective side in others… but numerous others amongst the student-deadbody were more wary. Even Manny took time out of his usual ‘targeting’ of the human-looking monster to ask what was going on with the extended werekat-time… an unusual feat in itself.
Though to be honest, pestering Jackson time was more snarky confursations thrown back and forth for an audience who weren’t fooled in the least by this pseudo-aggression, as opposed to actual bull-ying, at this point. Perhaps it was the casketball, or maybe Manny was growing up… it might also be the perpetual phobia of Holt setting the Minotaur on fire in retaliation like he’d threatened… but whatever it was, they were shriekretly bloodies now. Well, not-so-shriekretly, really… but the school let them think that it was.
~
The gorgon’s eyes narrowed, zoning back into the present with a twitch, watching as the very object of his concern let out a laugh and swatted Jackson on the shoulder. Purrsephone and Meowlody were lounging atop the lockers languidly, tails flicking back and forth rhythmically, occasionally passing through the mess of black and yellow that Jackson referred to as hair.
With a start, Deuce suddenly realises he’s not the only one watching proceedings intently… a half-dozen lockers down, the fashionista werewolf Clawdeen Wolf has gone stock-still, ears surreptitiously swiveling around as if trying to hone in on the confursation. Well, that’s never a good sign…
Throwing caution to the wind and mentally begging the Goddess Fortuna to be on his side that Spectra was otherwise occupied right now, he pastes on a casual grin and strides over. The Twins’ hackles raise a little as he approaches, but they don’t hiss… an improvement on last time, at least.
Toralei’s eyes rake his form with intense scrutiny - from head snakes to shoe soles- before she lets out a little ambiguous ‘hmph’, grins wickedly at Jackson, shrugs and moves away with a quiet, ‘Don’t go forgetting now, my blue-eyed baby boy!’
Like greased lightning, her two werekat shadows dart down smoothly and take up a brisk pace behind their leader… as Jackson turns a fun shade of crimson at this apparently brand-new nickname.
“O-...kay, care to tell me what that’s all about, dude?” he levels at Jackson, who is trying to flatten the pointy mess the Twins’ have made of his hair, with little luck. That was more of a hair-don’t at this point, and nothing except perhaps some extra-strength hair gel was going to fix it…
He had to clench his hands into fists for a brief second so as not to act on the impulse to try and help. A bro could help with another’s hair… unless they were Deuce Gorgon and continuously being stalked by a paparazzo ghost who would try to sensationalise the situation. Even if perhaps just this once, she’d be 100% correct, he wasn’t sure how Jackson (or Holt for that matter) would take it… they’d never given any real indication of whether they felt anything other than intense bro-ship for the gorgon.
“Um…” those beautiful blue orbs cast about in different directions, seeming to search for a change of topic, mind visibly working to come up with a plausible excuse.
Frustrated, but accepting, Deuce lets the whole scenario slide with a shoulder bump and a friendly, “Okay, so we’ll get back to that… got any plans for Prom?”
Several large textbooks Jackson was pulling from the locker clatter to the floor, and he looks like an ancient Grecian warrior caught in Medusa’s gaze as he turns to face the gorgon. “Um… I didn’t until… just now, apparently. What about you, I mean… after the whole overly-sensationalised breakup…”
That was an obvious deflection, but two could play that game.
“For one, I’ll just go by myself if I can’t find a ghoul or guy to take,” Deuce shrugs, staring at the other who is looking every direction but at him, “…and secondly, we’re not skimming over that topic this time. Who’re you taking to Prom?”
“W-well…” the other hesitated, bending to grab the books to hide his face as he muttered, “Toralei…”
“You’re taking Toralei to the Prom?” Deuce repeated, shocked, and yet his raised volume was nearly completely drowned out by the sound of metal wrenching free from its hinges. The fierce fashionista’s locker door coming free in a fit of surprised lupine anger, as Clawdeen screamed ‘WHAT?’ to the universe at large.
Well, that’s… a new piece of the puzzle to muse on, Deuce finds himself thinking.
Draculaura practically ran down the hall to see if her closest ghoulfriend was alright after that display. Deuce took the moment to languidly examine the fact that Jackson’s expression did not seem to be in line with that of the rest of the hallway… where others were shocked and surprised at the outburst… the other appeared amused, a small smile hiding at the corners of his mouth.
Okay, stop focusing on that or we’re going to do something Spectra will never stop writing about… he had to tell himself, quashing the urge to kiss the other. Simultaneously hoping that he’d imagined the slight flash coming from his left, because if he hadn’t…
A voice pierced through the fog of his thoughts, “Uh, Deuce?”
He blinked back to reality to find Jackson looking at him with a quizzical expression, like the gorgon was a puzzle that the other was trying to solve. Huh, perhaps he was, in a way. The question was, really, whether the other would like the final picture that was displayed when all the pieces were laid out in order…
“Huh, sorry man… lost in my thoughts, what were we talking about?” the Gorgon feigned confusion, which earned him a sympathetic expression.
“Nothing overly important, you were trying to wring information out of us about the Toralei situation… and not being very subtle about it.” Grinned Jackson, almost predatorily as Deuce realised how obvious he had been being. “I just wanted to warn you that it’s Holt’s class next, so… you might want to stand back, apparently we get pretty hot when changing over… and even if we didn’t, he’s a flailer. Your pretty face might not be safe at this distance.”
Was that a…compliment? No, it couldn’t have been…could it? He shoved away that thought, but somehow failed to dodge the one hiding right behind it. You’re both pretty hot all the time…
Deuce managed to clamp down on that one before it left his mouth, instead laughing and responding, “Is that even a word?”
Jackson shrugged, “Perhaps not, but it seems accurate… see you in Biteology after Lunch, I suppose. Can you please ask Holt to check his iCoffin?”
Deuce nodded as Jackson sighed, slid the headphones on and pressed play on their iCoffin.
Watching them change over from close-up was not easily done, but Deuce had his visor on which absorbed the majority of the light flare. There was a rush of flame that seemed at once, all over the Jekyll-Hyde… but at the same time, rose in an all-encompassing circle from the ground, flying up their body and only ceasing over their heads; erasing one and leaving the other. The transition back was the exact opposite, he had noticed by… paying close attention.
“AW YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH, READY TO ROCK!” Holt shouted, forcing several werewolves nearby to flatten their ears down as the loud noise slammed into their super-sensitive hearing implements like a wrecking ball. In that odd way the pair had, Holt seemed to know who was about him… because he immediately turned to look at Deuce as if returning to a conversation already underway. “Yo, Deuce, there you are… right where we left you.”
How does anyone even respond to a line like that?
Aiming for casual, as if this was just another one of those things that came with inter-monster cooperation, and not something totally unique with no set precedents as to how to react, Deuce said, “Uh, yeah, right here… hey, Jackson said to check your iCoffin.”
“Did he really?” the party monster arched a pierced eyebrow in response, digging the somehow unscathed phone out of his pocket. If the gorgon had blinked, he would have missed the split-second transition Holt’s face made, from that strange jubilant glee of being out and about, to the hybrid lovechild of a thundercloud and bitter parental disappointment.
“HE’S GOING WITH WHO NOW?!”
Well, that was rather deafening. The werewolves were starting to glare in response… to be fair, it was finals week at Monster High, tensions were high; a volatile combination of stress, sleep deprivation and over-caf-fiend-ation didn’t end well under normal circumstances. So naturally, there was also a full moon tomorrow night, meaning everyone was amped up, aggressive and not sure how to work it out of their systems… which might actually explain Clawdeen’s earlier outburst.
“I’m gonna have to go have words with this pretty kitty before my Musical Theory final,” Holt sighed, frowning at the iCoffin. “Kinda doubting this was Jacky-boy’s idea, and leaning more towards the concept it was totally all Toralei’s… which can’t be good.”
There was sincerity behind the words, but that wasn’t everything about this situation that was bugging his blue bloody… Deuce was a pretty perceptive person after all those years with Cleo and her cryptic clues as to what she wanted. So it was almost second nature to see there was something the other manster wasn’t saying…
Heart metaphorically sliding into the pits of his stomach, Deuce found himself asking the only logical conclusion his mind could pick out of Holt’s meaning. “Was there… someone else you were hoping to ask, or have ask you before Toralei got first dibs…?”
It was almost eerie just how similar Holt and Jackson were when they smiled like that, happy… but secretive. Sure, technically they were the same person, but most would never notice it unless they spent enough time with both of them…
Like a predator, Holt swaggered over towards him. One blue hand briefly contacting his face in an overly-familiar gesture, the likes of which Holt was widely known for, before slinging the arm it was attached to around his bloodie’s shoulders and dragging the other manster in close enough for his snakes to lick the other’s facial marking without straining to reach.
“Deuce, my gorgeous Gorgan bro, yes… yes we were… but apparently Toralei’s beat them to it. Sucks… we were waiting sooooooo patiently…”
Was that… was that a pointed glare?
Okay, now he was getting a little confused… oh no, did Holt know? Was this some sort of taunt? Deuce could feel his blood pressure rising, a blush threatening to set his cheeks aflame… but apparently Holt had said his piece, because he was already slipping away.
“Oh well, guess I’ll go see if Operetta wants to go with me still, right after I have a word with our resident feline alpha-wannabe.” The other pouted, rather melodramatically as he shoved their locker closed and began to walk away. “See you later, man…”
“I… yeah, see you then.” Since when were words so difficult to get out?
Part of him wished that Holt would come back… and not just because the party monster and his alter-ego, Jackson, had a higher body temperature than most -which appealed directly to his cold-blooded nature; his skin was still tingling from where they’d made contact. Like it was trying to memorise the feel of them pressed against one another...
Atop his head, the snakes were fighting amongst themselves, sensing his confused indecision… and acting out aggressively, or maybe they were play-fighting to keep warm… he wasn’t really sure how to communicate with them properly just yet. Trying to be a person sharing a body with another lifeform (or in his case, several) was not as easy as he made it look… that’s why he tried his best to understand Jackson and Holt, because he might be one of the few at the school who came close to understanding their predicament.
With a sigh, Deuce turned his attention in the direction of Study Howl, which he had next… sadly in the opposite direction that Holt had taken; only to come face to face with Clawdeen’s pointed stare over Draculaura’s head. She jerked her head just so, indicating that he needed to come closer, and then said something he couldn’t hear to tiny pink vampire –who squealed, hugged her, and ran off to greet Clawd who’d just walked out of a Freakonomics Final looking like he’d played a dozen rounds of Get Down Mr President with overly zealous gargoyles.
Intrigued, Deuce began to walk in her direction, only to pause in irritation as his iCoffin, along with everyone else’s in the hall- began to buzz indicating some sort of mass update. Checking the incoming alert, the Gorgon let out an audible huff of amusement and rolled his eyes, trying not to laugh at the newest addition on Spectra’s blog…
The tagline read, “Ro-Manster In The Air for Our Former It-Couple’s, Deuce Gorgon?” featuring a full-length picture of him looking at Jackson, taken only a handful of moments ago during the Clawdeen locker situation. Man, that ghoul types fast!
With a raised eyebrow, he tapped the iCoffin off and slid the phone in his pocket, outwardly unconcerned by it all… which set the mood for how the rest of the monsters in the corridor took the news; dismissing it as casually as he had, muttering that Spectra really was losing it these days, seeing things that weren’t there for the sake of sensationalism.
He just hoped Jackson and Holt took it with the same grain of salt as the rest of the school.