Archive of Our Own

Mattholomule sat next to Gus outside of the graveyard, shoulder to shoulder, ruining their eyes as they tried to read a human magazine in the everlasting dark haze of the Illusionist Graveyard. There were words and pictures, somehow Gus couldn’t really read them but still completely understood them at the same time. 

“Gus, I’m really glad that we’re friends,” Mattholomule said out loud, bluntly and without prompting, as if it were his first time reading off a script. 

“Aw, Matty,” Gus gushed, sensing nothing strange or weird about the situation, “I’m happy to be friends with you too.” 

The magazine seemingly vanished into thin air and they were suddenly standing. A few spikes stuck out of a pit nearby. 

Mattholomule raised his hands into the air, a rare wide and beaming smile on his face. 

“Hey, let’s celebrate our friendship by doing a double hand high-five,” suggested Mattholomule, a smile still on his face. 

Maybe Gus should have realized that something was off when Mattholomule smiled so long without getting annoyed, but something about the atmosphere made thinking difficult. Everything felt so soft and hazy, even the dense fog felt like a warm blanket. 

“Okay, we’ll shout high-five besties on three,” Gus said as he raised his hands. 

“One.” 

“Two.” 

Gus woke up to the loud shrieks of his alarm, his arms were raised above his head. Before he could succumb to the sweet release of sleep again, he grabbed a notebook from under his pillow and began writing earnestly, detailing his dream before it dissolved like his favorite hat the last time it rained. This month’s Oracle class assignment was to keep a dream journal in order to train their dreamweaving. At the end of the month, they would each meet with Professor Pythia to interpret those dreams and learn how to control them. 

Oracle magic was new to Gus, but he enjoyed it. 

Since Belos’ defeat, witches were allowed to explore new kinds of magic. Wild magic was allowed and those who only lived under Belos’ rule were encouraged to explore different avenues of magic. Though it was difficult to adjust at first, the residents of the Boiling Isles opened their minds to new magic, guided by the wild witches they once prosecuted. 

When he was finished recounting as much of his dream as he could, Gus skimmed the pages, his face growing warmer as he read. Dreaming about Mattholomule proudly declaring their friendship and then practicing high-fives felt a bit too personal to share with his professor. It was a lame and sappy dream, one completely unlike the real Mattholomule, who would probably rather die than say anything positive about another person. 

He considered burning the page with a fire glyph and making up a different dream, but Professor Pythia knew how to pick out lies with magic.  

Reluctantly, he stuffed the notebook back under his pillow, noting to keep it away from prying eyes. Plus, he knew that the Oracle Professor had seen more embarrassing things. The small amount of embarrassment was a small price to pay for knowledge. He also had to steal Luz’s schedule to make sure they didn’t share an Oracle class that week. 

Despite the constant fear of social embarrassment from mind reading, memory picking, and dream weaving, Oracle magic was amazing. 

In the past, Gus was proud to be an Illusions prodigy, but now he got to enjoy being a novice Oracle. It was refreshing to ponder his way around magic that both interested him and challenged him. He didn’t have to be a talented Oracle, he just had to be willing to learn. That feeling was far better than being atop the towering pedestal of being a child prodigy. 

Ultimately, his true destiny was to venture into the human world, establishing a connection as the human world ambassador. 

Well, since he was still young he could have fun too. Maybe have a few vacations in the human world. Luz was lucky to experience getting food poisoning from witch food, he wanted to see if he could get it from human food. He’d also get the opportunity to talk to real humans, smell the metallic scent all human objects seemed to have, and engage in human capitalism at the local chain store. 

Luz and Amity would run off on a sickly sweet date while Willow would go around studying human world plants. That would just leave Mattholomule to spend time with, which wasn’t a loss at all. 

Who better to explore the human world at his side than his Human Appreciation Society co-president? 

Once he and Mattholomule reunited the club, they came to the compromise that there would be simulated touching of the human artifacts. Gus would teach about them and after Mattholomule would teach the club members how to make them. He was pretty sure Bo and Eileen still fell asleep during each of his lectures, but he still appreciated that they came. Their club was still small and cozy, but the mutual love for human culture was there. 

However, Gus did keep a secret from his club members and co-president, and that was that he had secretly kept Mattholomule’s forgeries. They were still in pristine condition, except for the human footwear replica his father threw out after thinking it was trash. He got a lecture on cleaning his room and that keeping sad piles of mud wasn’t allowed. 

The other two relics got a place of honor at his desk, most of the time at least. They also got a place of dishonor stuffed into the mouth of his alarm clock whenever Luz or Mattholomule came over. Only Willow and his dad knew about them. 

Gus held the “cellular phone” in his palm and held it up to eye level, further memorizing the jagged edges of the stone. He wondered how the stone was made. Was it a natural formation of the islands, carefully chosen to fool naive classmates or was it the result of clumsy and inexperienced construction magic. While the imperfections were clear to him now, it was still amazing to Gus that these forgeries fooled him even for a second. 

With his other hand he idly traced the letters along the homemade label. Interestingly both he and Mattholomule used all capital letters and blue ink to make the labels, but if you looked closely there were a few key differences. Gus’ labels had been pristine, as if words were magically stamped onto the labels, which they were, while Mattholomule’s were a bit sloppier. The points of his A’s never quite connected while the curve of his R’s hastily went past the line as if his impatience extended to his handwriting as well. 

Inside his mind he imagined Mattholomule molding the stone for the cellular phone, painting the details into the skull, and trying the twine just so it could hold the fake shoe together. He could even imagine how Mattholomule hunched over his desk, Gus noticed his posture got worse when he was concentrating, making sure his creations could fool novice human scholars. Luckily Gus was no novice, but he had to have had great references in order to craft such clever forgeries. 

Though Mattholomule seemed like just a petty delinquent on the outside, he was pretty insightful and reflective underneath all the snark and jabs. Hanging out Mattholomule was a challenge, but in the best way possible. Underneath all those layers of acid and spite, there was something more. 

Gus felt like he was learning something new about Mattholomule all of the time, that every time he looked closer there was something new to learn. It was even more fun than Oracle classes.

It was like he was in the Mattholomule Coven. 

No, that sounded a bit weird. Maybe the Mattholomule’s Forgeries Coven. 

Either way, Mattholomule spent a lot of time in Gus’ mind, even invading his dreams. 

At some point Gus began to spend at least a few moments every morning analyzing Mattholomule’s forgeries. It became a bit of a morning routine. Maybe even an “anytime Gus is bored and somehow thinking about Mattholomule” kind of routine. By the time he realized how ingrained into his schedule it was, it was too late to bother to change it. He wasn’t really sure why he started doing it, or why it became more interesting since they reconciled at the graveyard. The cellular phone and human skull were two of his most prized possessions, right after the forbidden magic texts he stole while Belos was distracted by being overthrown. 

In fact, he wasn’t even sure why he snuck into Principal Bump’s office to steal them. Well, to be more accurate he broke into Principal Bump’s office and rummaged through his trash can. It was even in his “To Burn in the Firepit'' can. Luckily Principal Bump was conveniently distracted by the rampaging griffins at the Grudgby fields only to discover that they were an anonymous illusionist’s prank. 

There were still wanted posters around the school stating that the culprit would be punished with cleaning out the Detention Snake litter box. 

Good thing he DEFINITELY wasn’t the culprit and that all the evidence was conveniently burnt away with a fire glyph. 

Though what would be worse than Principal Bump punishing him would probably be Mattholomule finding out he even kept the forgeries. Mattholomule would laugh at him, and taunt him for still obsessing over fakes. He’d call Gus the lesser human expert since he didn’t even get the names of his artifacts right while Mattholomule got that information from some credible source. Just the thought of the other boy realizing how much Gus thought about him was embarrassing. Gus could even feel himself getting flustered just thinking about it. 

If anything it was a bit like when he was with Bria, his every thought filtered by his huge and obvious cru-

No. 

It was probably over scholarly reasons. 

Before he could ponder any further like the great human philosopher Sock-Crate-Tea, he was interrupted by the sharp pain of his watch gnawing at his wrist with tiny teeth. 

Gus stood up and brushed off his uniform, making sure to press out any wrinkles. He slung his satchel over his shoulders. Gus paused for a second before tossing the forgeries into his bag. He had been slacking on his human scholar aspirations, something a future human world ambassador couldn’t afford to do. 

No matter who approached him with some trivial distraction, he would go straight to the library and search through their human archives. If he got lucky, he might even convince Amity to let him break into The Forbidden Stacks, not that he wasn’t willing to break into them himself. He always wanted to try the human paperclorp lock pick trick.  

Gus steeled himself. No distractions allowed. Nothing would stand between him and the library today. 

Gus Porter never got distracted, that was a guarantee. 

His anti-distraction protocol was going smoothly, he politely turned down Luz and Willow’s offer to work at the greenhouse and told his illusions classmates that he had another assignment to work on. He even resisted the sweet temptation of pranking Boscha and her friends into oblivion. 

If he kept up this pace, would he be in his sweet and serene library haven within ten minutes, five if he ran. There wasn’t anything in the world that would stand between Gus and his work. 

Gus almost shot into the air and dropped the contents of his bag when an arm suddenly slung itself around his shoulders.

“Whoa whoa whoa, ease up, Augustus. You almost shot me into the air too.” 

Gus peered over his shoulder, and downwards, towards Mattholomule whose arm was still securely around his shoulders. Suddenly the draft hallways felt a bit warmer than usual. His shoulders tensed a little bit. 

Mattholomule’s lip was pursed and one eyebrow raised, not even bothering to hide his judgment. Then again, Mattholomule looked like he was judging someone 99.99% of the time. Gus didn’t mind, but for the sake of their budding friendship-rivalry, he couldn’t let him keep the upper hand. 

Or maybe it was just fun to poke fun at Mattholomule and see the mask crack a bit. 

“Sorry Matty, you’re so far below my line of sight that I didn’t notice you. Maybe if you hit witch puberty too this wouldn’t be a problem anymore,” Gus quipped. 

Mattholomule huffed and stood on his tiptoes to use all his strength to push Gus down to his height. Gus obediently obliged, internally reveling in riling Mattholomule up. 

“Hey! I’ll catch up one day, pipsqueak! I still have a few more years of growing left in me.” Mattholomule retorted. He flashed a smile, tapping on his witch fangs. “I’ve already got longer adult fangs than you, so take that! Don’t worry, you’ll catch up one day. Or not!” 

Choosing to take the higher road, Gus ignored the jabs, instead listening intently to Mattholomule talk. It was rare for him to talk this much to anyone. He actually had a lot to say and, at least to Gus, it was all interesting. 

Even the bragging. 

Speaking of bragging, Mattholomule was rambling about his future growth spurt and his superior adult fangs. There were two weeks when Mattholomule was taller than him again a few months ago, he got the cold shoulder treatment for a few days. Gus didn’t mind though, it all just became a part of his charm. 

As he talked at a rapid pace, Mattholomule used the hand around Gus’s shoulders to pull on his cheek, a habit he formed during their year long friendship. Gus let out a loud laugh and felt his shoulders relax, making sure to take in every word the other boy said. He let Mattholomule steer them towards the line of lockers and out of the way of the steady flow of students rushing to get home. 

“Anyway, as your gracious and benevolent elder, I’ll let your rudeness slide.” Mattholomule’s easy grin morphed into a smirk, which usually meant trouble. “I’ve got a Grudgby scrimmage right after school, you should come watch. Not to brag, but I’ve gotten pretty good.” 

Mattholomule slid his arm off of Gus’ shoulders in favor of putting them on his hips and puffing out his chest proudly. Despite his nervousness earlier, Gus found himself missing that physical touch. Instead of admitting it out loud, he placed his elbow on top of Mattholomule’s head, forcing him out of his prideful stance. While he didn’t mind his friend’s inflated ego, it was too fun to tease him out of it. 

“I’m pretty sure I saw you trip and somehow fly over three tables during lunch today, it was actually pretty amazing, you should try human gymnastics.” 

Gus felt Mattholomule tense for the briefest of seconds, his eyes bulging a bit. 

“Y-you saw that?” Mattholomule whispered, as if him flying across the cafeteria screaming his head off and breaking a table a few hours ago was a secret.
“It looked like it hurt,” Gus said. 

“W-what it actually looked like was me testing out a new Grugby move. Your younger and less-athletic mind just couldn’t understand,” Mattholomule spluttered, his left hand moved to brush a lock of hair out of his face and his ears flicked around, so quickly that it was easy to miss. 

A year and a half of friendship and keen observation told him that Mattholomule always stuttered when he was nervous, played with his bangs when he was lying, and unconsciously flicked his ears around when he was embarrassed. 

“But do you need a healer? I’m sure Bo would be willing to help you if something hur-” 

Mattholomule brushed Gus off with a hand wave, “I took care of it, you don’t need to worry.” 

“You’re my friend, I should be worried about you,” Gus said, smiling gently at Mattholomule, who only looked away with a pout. 

“Do whatever you want, twerp.” 

Though they had been through so much together, from saving and repairing the graveyard to Mattholomule even helping them in the rebellion against Belos, the other boy consistently denied their friendship. While Gus was mostly sure he didn’t mean it, it still stung. Especially since Mattholomule occupied his thoughts and worries. Some part of him knew how bad Mattholomule was with words and friendships, showing his care through actions and trinkets, but he still craved the verbal validation. 

“Did Boscha force you into a Grudgby match? She’s going to pummel you out there. No shame in that,” Gus paused. “She actually might even pummel you before just because she can. In fact, I think that’s her right now.” 

“Where?” Mattholomule squeaked. 

He jumped behind Gus, pushing him in front like a meat shield.  

“You know, Matty, I was joking that Boscha was here but it hurts that you would use me as a shield. I thought we were friends.”
There was some truth to those words, but the other boy didn’t need to know that. 

Gus dramatically fell backwards, forcing Mattholomule to catch him. He summoned an illusion handkerchief and pretended to wipe away a few tears. 

“Ugh, you’re so embarrassing,” Mattholomule mumbled, but he made no move to push Gus off of him. 

Gus slumped over and proceeded to fake cry even harder. He magically dimmed the lights and shone an illusion spotlight on himself. 

“Did what we share mean nothing to you?” Gus whispered. “I thought we had a bonding moment when I saved you from the jaws of that snake.” 

“Uh no, our bonding moment was when I saved you from Angmar’s vines,” Mattholomule corrected. “I was pretty heroic there, wasn’t I?” 

Gus sprung up with a flourish and squished Mattholomule into a hug. 

“Oh Matty! You do care!” Gus gushed, his sour mood forgotten.  

Gus planned on milking the scene even more when he heard a few giggles behind him. A few familiar giggles. 

He turned his head to see Luz and Willow standing behind him, each covered in dirt and holding up pots that each housed a dangerous looking plant. Even though he wasn’t doing anything incriminating or embarrassing, he felt his entire face flush over. Mattholomule hastily pushed Gus away from him. 

“Ugh, I don’t feel like dealing with the human, I think she hates me. She’s always giving me weird looks,” muttered Mattholomule. He let go and was about to run off before he added, “I better see you at the Grudgby field later.” 

“Yeah, of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world,” replied Gus, though he had a vague feeling he was forgetting something important. 

But that didn’t matter anymore when Mattholomule’s face softened from his usual scowl by the slightest fraction. Well, if it was really important he would have thought about it already. Gus was always on top of things, it was his thing. Whatever not important thing that he was rightfully forgetting mattered even less when Mattholomule pulled him in again. 

“Anyway, I’m going to go get ready,” Mattholomule leaned in and dropped his voice into a whisper, “It looks like they’re up to trouble and I can’t afford another detention, but you three jokers can. At this rate Bump will actually feed me to the Choosey Hat. His words, not mine.” 
He ran around the corner, though not before he shot Gus one last stink-eye and blew a loud raspberry before he left. 

Was it weird that Gus enjoyed the rudeness and sass? 

“The match starts at three!” Mattholomule shouted. “Anyway, see ya! Tell me whatever dirt the human has on you later, I need a good laugh!” 

Damn jerk, the Grudgby field wasn’t even in that direction. 

“So, Gus, you were too busy to work at the greenhouse because you wanted to hang out with Mattholomule?” Willow asked, a knowing smile on her face. 

Gus wasn’t sure what she knew, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out. 

“Oh, Willow, they grow up so fast,” Luz sighed. “It feels like it was only yesterday that our son still wanted to dig through the mud to find plant seeds with us.” 

“That was yesterday,” Gus replied glumly.
“They turn thirteen and they suddenly think they’re grown,” Luz signed dramatically. 

Gus considered the pros and cons of using illusion magic to create a distraction and make a break for it. Surely a giant plant monster would distract both Willow and Luz. He ultimately decided it wouldn’t work out, Willow knows his illusion works too well. She would tell Luz, who would just tease him even more later. The best plan is to remain calm and collected. 

“Actually, I’m thirteen-and-a-half, I’d say three-quarters considering my birthday is in three months. I’m plenty grown.” 

Luz affectionately ruffled his hair, obviously not listening to what he was saying. He glanced at Willow, pleading for help, she just smiled back at him.
Traitor. 

“Anyway, Gus, I didn’t know you liked Grudgby,” Luz cooed, making sure to give Gus’ hair a good ruffle. 

“I don’t,” Gus mumbled, “sports aren’t my thing.” 

“But you’re willing to watch grumpy ole’ Matty play?” Luz said, punctuating her words with pokes to Gus’ cheeks. 

“Hey! Only I get to call him Matty!” protested Gus, returning a few cheek pokes of his own. 

“Only you?” asked Willow, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I didn’t know you two got THAT close.” 

When he saw Willow of all people with a smug smile Gus knew he was finished. He contemplated faking his own death and sneaking into the human world where he would assume a new identity. Instead of becoming a human world ambassador he would move to Human France and become a French human mime. He would name himself Pierre, which was a common and believable French name so he could blend in seamlessly. To sell the act, he’d keep a croissant on himself at all times. He would have to restrain himself from using magic though as if he became too famous of a mime Luz and Willow might find him. So, he’d have to be a mediocre mime, which pained his inner showman. 

It was either that or he’d have to beg Eileen for a memory erasing potion. Both for himself and his friends. Then Eileen, so she wouldn’t remember giving him the potion. Maybe the entirety of the Boiling Isles just to be on the safe side. 

“Yeah buddy, if you’re spending time with your friend ,” Luz barely restrained a smirk when she emphasized the word friend , “you didn’t have to lie and say you were going to the library. We understand.”

“I didn’t lie about the library,” Gus said bluntly, honestly. 

His words slowly processed in his mind.
“Wait! I can’t go to the library if I promised Matty I would be going to watch his Grudgby match,” Gus groaned. 

“Really? Well, it’s not too late to tell him you already had plans,” Willow said. 

“Yeah, it’s not like you made an Everlasting Oath,” Lus added. 

Gus buried his face into his hands.
“Oh no! You made one?” Luz began shaking him. “Don’t worry buddy, we can fix this. What were the terms? You didn’t promise anything stupid, did you? I’ll hunt him down right now and pun-”

“Pfft, please, Luz. I wouldn’t make an Everlasting Oath. Only someone completely reckless or completely ignorant to magic would make an unbreakable promise over such a small thing,” Gus stated bluntly. 

Luz stopped shaking him and her face went blank. Willow gave Gus a sharp glare. 

“I mean, it can happen to anyone, but not to me,” corrected Gus. “It’s an honest mistake that anyone could make, even wonderful friends whom I love dearly.” 

“My past shame aside, if there’s no unbreakable promise then there’s no reason to tell him you’ll watch his game some other time,” replied Luz. 

“That’s true, I’m sure he hasn’t gotten far by now. Mattholomule’s a nicer guy than he seems, he’ll understand,” Willow said. “He’ll understand if you can’t make it.” 

“I guess, I just really want to watch the game?” Gus said carefully. 

Gus internally pinched himself for that confession when Luz began cooing over him and Willow stood to the side nodding sagely. 

“Willow, our boy hasn’t only gotten taller, but he’s really growing up!” Luz scooped him into a hug. “You must really like him, right? If prickly with an adorably hidden soft side is your type, then look no further than the awesome girlfriend of Amity Blight for advice!” 

“Luz!” Willow said firmly, giving Gus some hope for reason, “This is about Gus, you can’t make everything about Amity!” 

If Willow was on Luz’s side, then Gus had no hopes of winning. Gus chanced a glance down at his watch, which ticked towards the start of the match. Technically it didn’t matter if he wasn’t there on time, but he felt like he had to. He didn’t want to miss a second of the game. Plus, escaping was always a good Plan G-7 since crime wasn’t the appropriate response for embarrassing teasing. 

Gus’ eyes flitted around the room, gaining inspiration when he saw the Abominations professor pass by. 

“Speaking of Amity, there she is!” Gus pointed vaguely behind Luz. “Your little meow meow is waving at us!” 

Luz blushed deeply, “I regret teaching you that.” 

Though, as expected of a doting girlfriend, Luz turned around and happily waved at an illusion of Amity. Gus made sure to enhance Amity’s cuteness by 100%, so that Luz wouldn’t notice that the illusion was looping. Willow shot him a look that told him she wasn’t fooled, but was going to let this slide. 

Never was he happier that the Blight twins convinced him that only the cleverest witches can draw spell circles with their toes, thinking that he was just a gullible kid who wouldn’t be able to do it. They don’t call Augustus Porter a gifted kid for nothing. If anybody can pioneer the art of secret toe magic, then it would be him! 

Gus Porter! Secret Art of Toe Magic Champion! 

. . .

Either he’d find a better name for his new magic or he’d have to take it to his grave, only for it to be discovered long after his body had dissolved back into pure magic. Ah, the suffering of true artististic scholars. 

Gus turned and ran towards the same hallway Mattholomule took earlier, nearly crashing into Amity as he made the turn. 

“Oh, hey Gus, my friend,” Amity began awkwardly. “Have you seen Luz and Willow? As an awesome girlfriend and aspiring awesome friend, I thought I should help them at the gree-”
“Around the corner and to the left, and if Luz asks how you moved so quickly just tell her you ran really fast!” Gus interrupted. “If you do that our friendship will exponentially increase!”

Not giving her a chance to reply, Gus ran off. He vaguely thought he should give Amity some credit for trying to be a better friend, especially to Willow. If Luz and Willow were willing to forgive Amity, then he was too, but forgiveness and bonding would have to wait in the name of. . . really wanting to see Mattholomule’s Grudgby match. 

Gus was far from being a jock, or even a sports fan, but he felt his heart race as he ran off. If he had to attend a sporting event, he’d spend more of his time making sure his poses and flag positions were perfect.Then he’d mindlessly watch as the figures get thrown around the field, only cheering when he was sure he was supposed to. Today, however, he was excited to actually pay attention to those figures. 

Well, only the one named Mattholomule. 

“Matty invited me to watch his sports ball thing! Our friendship is progressing wonderfully!” Gus said aloud, beaming from ear to ear, not realizing he was leaning against another student's locker.  

“Oh, um, that’s great,” the student replied awkwardly. “Can you move now?” 

Gus blushed and moved away awkwardly, towards the Grudgby fields instead of the hallway going in the opposite direction. 

Damn Matty, always distracting him. Well, it wasn’t his fault, but it’s more fun to blame him. Gus secretly decided to get Mattholomule to sneak him some discounts from his job at the bookstore as proper compensation. 

Then they spend a rainy afternoon reading together. 

By the time Gus reached the Grudgby fields Boshca and her friends were already there, doing athletic things like pushups, stretching, and aiming flaming balls at Mattholomule for practice.
Wait. . .

“Matty!” Gus shouted as he jumped off the sides of the bleachers, ignoring the slight twinge in his right ankle. “Don’t hurt him!” 

“Aw, the big-headed jerkass brat is getting saved by the overly dramatic illusion weakling,” Boscha sneered, though she thankfully extinguished the ball she was about to aim at Mattholomule’s forehead. 

“You’ve got a few things wrong there Boscha, I’m not weak,” Gus shouted before the rest of Boshca’s words hit him, “and I’m not overly dramatic either!” 

“Yeah! And my head isn’t that big!” Mattholomule added. 
Gus playfully elbows him in the shoulder, “So, you admit to being a jerk?” 

Gus receives a playful noogie right back.
“At least I’m honest, damn theater kid.” 

“You’re lying, too! Your forehead is almost as big as this whole field.”

“I don’t make illusion spotlights for myself every time I’m mildly inconvenienced,” Mattholomule shot back. “At least I’m trying something new, and I think it really fits me.” 

“Oh really? The Grudgby uniform really fits you,” Gus replied, carefully lacing his words with sarcasm. 

It really didn’t. Even though he grew a few inches and grew some muscle mass from his construction classes, the armored parts of Mattholomule’s uniform hung loosely around him. Then again, it wasn’t out of character for Mattholomule to choose a bigger size just to look stronger without realizing it had the opposite effect. It was really really c- 

“Watch your words, squirt. I’m the true sarcasm master” Mattholomule pinched Gus’ cheek which jolted him out of his thoughts, “It’s not like you’d look good in it either. And don’t you make yourself illusions muscles to prove me wrong either!” 

Gus stopped casting the spell midway through. He posed dramatically hoping it would distract from his mistake. 

“Me? Augustus Porter? Sarcastic? Never.” Gus put his hand over his bile sack. “This is the perfect look for you.”
But there’s some truth in there, the look wasn’t bad, it actually did fit him in a strange way. He even managed to incorporate a hoodie into this one. It has both the excitement of a brand new look and the charm of the same old Matty underneath it all. The sight warmed his heart, so he took an internal screenshot to warm his heart in the future. 

Gus tried his best to look smug, but he can’t help but to smile fondly. 

They fly apart when a flaming ball creates a small crater in the ground between them. Boscha, rather than looking furious, looks more inconvenienced than anything else. 

“Ugh, can you cut the sappy crap? The snot-nosed brat fell into my lunch and got gruel all over my new scarf! It cost more than either of your ugly wardrobes,” Boscha hissed. “If he can’t pay for it with snails, then he can repay with target practice.” 

“This is why you’re playing Grudgby?” Gus asked. “Because Boscha forced you to?” 

Mattholomule muttered indistinctly as a reply, which means “yes, but I’m too proud to say it,” in Mattholomule. 

Gus mustered all the courage in his body to make a stand against Boscha, resisting the urge to grab Mattholomule’s hand and booking it. Boscha would catch up to them with her athlete legs and then hit them with flaming balls every time with her athlete arms. Boscha was persistent, he’d give her that. 

He glanced over at Boscha’s friends, giggling amongst themselves. An idea hatched in his mind. He just had to attack Boscha where it hurt most. 

Her pride.
“What are big strong athletes like you ganging up on this poor little guy? Look at you! You’re all buff. Look at him! He’s a stick!” Gus began.
“Hey,” Mattholomule hissed. 

Gus ignored that, choosing to talk down Boscha with his copious amounts of charm and his emotional cunning. 

“What do you have to gain from tormenting the poor guy! Three on one? With your combined upper body strength alone it’s practically a ten on one!” Gus continued with his speech, actively ignoring how Mattholomule was repeatedly stepping on his toes in anger. “Will using him as target practice really help your team? Do you really just want to be the mean girl? You need to challenge yourself to be more than just that!” 

Gus imagined Boscha and her friends realizing their mistakes, and letting both of them go free. Then they could go wrestle a griffin or whatever athletic kids liked doing. Then he and Mattholomule could go to the library together, or whatever the other boy wanted to do. 

Of course he would succeed, charisma and the ability to de-escalate situations were only two of the skills a human world ambassador needed. 

When he looked back at Boscha he saw that she was swapping her nails out with magic. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t really listening because your speech was sooo boring.” Boscha cocked her head thoughtfully. “Though I did hear something about a challenge?” 

“See?” Gus puffed his chest out proudly, “I knew you’d listen to reason. Now let’s put this incident behind us and part ways peac-” 

A few minutes later Gus stood side-by-side to Mattholomule, in a matching Grudgby uniform, but in illusion blue instead of construction brown. His satchel, which held the human artifact forgeries, was held hostage under Skara’s care. 

Normally he would have risked running off and leaving his books behind, he could just have his illusions steal them back. But if Boscha, or even worse, Mattholomule, found out about the forgeries he’d really have to become a mediocre human Mime named Pierre. 

“Nice going, Porter,” Mattholomule hissed into his ear. 

Welp. Mattholomule only used his last name when he was really annoyed.  

“What? I didn’t know Boscha would force both of us to play against her! At least it’s the two of us versus one of her,” Gus said. 

“We’re going to get flattened,” Mattholomule said glumly. 

“No need to be such a downer, Matty,” Gus chastised. “We’re the dream team. We totally have a chance.”
Mattholomule didn’t even grace him with a verbal reply, only raising a doubtful eyebrow. 

“We got this, Matty,” Gus said and placed his hands on Mattholomule’s shoulders, hands that were immediately shrugged off. 

“If we lose, then you’ll have to buy me ice-scream at least three times a week for the next month,” Mattholomule muttered.
“You’re such a kidder, that would take up, like all of my allowance.” 

Mattholomule glowered, “I meant what I said.”
“O-okay! Let’s do this! We totally won’t lose,” Gus shouted, already kissing his allowance goodbye. “We’re going to win! Let’s high-five on it!” 

When he turned to Mattholomule, he saw that he was flying away, propelled forward by Boscha’s throw. Gus winced when Mattholomule hit the pole with a loud ringing noise.
As the ground rumbled beneath him, Gus steeled himself, though he wished he knew how to turn his bones into steel too.  

They’d be lucky if Boscha let them out of this alive. 

About thirty minutes later, the two boys were sprawled on the Grudgby field, staring aimlessly at the sky. The good news was that Boscha got bored of them pretty quickly. The bad news was that it was after twenty-five minutes of a non-stop Grudgby beat down.
“This would make a really bad compilation,” Gus muttered.
“What the Titan is a compilation, some weird human thing?” Mattholomule groaned. “And I won’t let you owe me ice-scream five times a week every week for the next month.”
“Did you just up the stakes? That’s not fair,” Gus complained. He glanced over at Mattholomule who was smoking, literally. Typical stuff. “By the way, your bangs have been on fire for the past few minutes, you should put that out.” 

Mattholomule squawked, patting down his hair furiously, somehow fanning the smoke into a flame rather than putting it out. 

Without missing a beat, Gus reached over and pinched the flame out with his fingers. He tried not to notice how Mattholomule’s ears instinctively twitched when his hand brushed by. It was only a split second but it felt like the time when he and Luz accidentally made an electricity glyph, except it felt kinda nice rather than painful. 

Serious thoughts. Friendship thoughts. Thoughts that make sense. Like how his fingertips actually don’t really burn that much from pinching out a growing flame after they were nearly burnt off catching balls that were literally on fire. . 

What was one tiny burn to fifty consecutive hits with Boscha’s meteor balls? Plus, him making sure Mattholomule didn’t get hurt became second nature. From making sure he didn’t trip into a pit, to pulling him out of the way of falling graveyard debris, and even to making sure Hooty didn’t make him an afternoon snack. 

Accident prone was only one way to describe it, hated by the Titan itself was probably more accurate. It must have been a miracle that Mattholomule wasn’t constantly in the care of the Healing Coven.  

Gus never minded any of it though. He wanted to protect his friend and couldn’t bear to see him in any pain, even if the other boy used that to his advantage. All Mattholomule needed to do to convince Gus of anything was to smile, the big goofy one when he was unabashedly happy.  Somehow seeing that grin was too much for Gus’ weak heart. Really, Mattholomule could have been a master manipulator if he wasn’t so clumsy and greedy for attention. 

Though if he were like that, then they wouldn’t be here, laying in the grass together, staring at the clouds and assorted demons as they flew by. They probably wouldn’t even be the kinda-friends that they are now. 

“I just saved your life, now you owe me ice-scream,” joked Gus. 

“Nope,” Mattholomule replied right away with a loud pop to the P.  

“Ugh, do I have to?” 

“Yup.” 

“Even if you changed the terms on a whim?” 

“You always listen to me for some strange reason,” Mattholomule let out a wheezy laugh, “but only because you know I’d stomp you into the ground otherwise.”

That’s true to an extent, but Gus can’t let Mattholomule know that he really listens because he likes seeing him smile, or he just likes being around him in general. If he found out, then it’d really be over. Mattholomule would never let him live it down. There were some things that were better left unsaid.  

“You’re like, four feet shorter than me, I have to avoid stepping on you when we’re walking next to each other,” Gus said instead, poking fun at Matty’s height is safer than saying everything he wanted to say. 

A fist lightly punched him on his left shoulder, Gus held back a hiss of pain, Boscha got a good hit or ten there earlier.
“Buy me my ice-scream, you punk,” Mattolomule retorted. “Respect your elders.” 

“Ugh, fine, I’ll go buy you some now, old man,” Gus replied. 

As he moved to stand up, Gus winced as he felt a sharp pain shoot up his right ankle. He tried to stand up, wobbling on shaky legs. His ankle felt like it was burning, every movement he made stung. He fell face first into the ground.

Titan, maybe jumping off the sides of the bleachers wasn’t such a good idea after all. Taking all those hits from Boscha was even worse. If he really thought about it, he did remember his ankle hurting more and more with each fall he took. 

“Hey, Gus?” Mattholomule crouched by his side, “are you okay?”

Gus rolled over to look at the sky again. It spun around mockingly. 

“I think I’m dying,” Gus said, at least partially serious. 

Mattholomule scowled. His face looked like a scrunched up mess. His hair was getting longer and it framed his face nicely, soon it would be long enough for a ponytail. It was a good look for him. Gus assumed that was just a delusion from the pain. 

“I think I twisted my ankle,” admitted Gus. “First when I jumped off the side of the bleachers and then every time Boscha threw me to the ground.” 

“Idiot, you should have left this to me!” hissed Mattholomule. 

“Nah, she probably would have killed you just because she could,” replied Gus.

“Puh-lease, I can handle myself,” Mattholomule scoffed, “Unlike you, I can handle a few falls.” 

“Carry me?” Gus asked, he made sure to tilt his head just so and to make his pout unbearably adorable. 

“You’re so weird,” muttered Mattholomule. “Luckily for you, I’ve got pretty strong arms, you know, just construction things.” 

“Mmhmm, that’s right.” Gus then added under his breath, just loud enough for the other boy to hear. “Stick arms.” 

“Watch it, I might accidentally drop you in a pit of spikes that I am about to accidentally make.” 

“Oh! My hero!” Gus crooned. 

Mattholomule’s scowl got even deeper, if that was even possible. 

“Shut up.” 

Even as he complained, Mattholomule still moved to try and lift Gus off the ground. He put one hand on Gus’ shoulder and the other under his knees. Gus could feel his heart beating so hard that it felt like it would cause his bile sac to burst like a balloon. Mattholomule’s face was covered in dirt and frankly, he looked a bit constipated from the strain, but to Gus the whole image was pretty dashing. Being held in the arms of a gallant gentleman after getting hurt? It was just like something out of the dating sims that Luz let him play. He was the human Internet icon, Your Name, and Mattholomule was his Fernando. 

Gus wished that this moment would last forever. 

It actually only lasted a split second. He felt Mattholomule tip backwards and heard him screech like some dying demon. Before he knew it they were sprawled out together in some pathetic heap. Gus was pretty sure he twisted his ankle for the sixth time today, but who’s counting? Plus, he’s pretty sure he accidentally kicked Mattholomule in the back of the head as they went down. 

“Get off of me, you’re heavy,” Mattholomule’s voice was notably muffled, probably because Gus’ foot was pushing his head into the dirt. 

Gus just rolled over so that his face was in the dirt too. At least he wasn’t squashing Mattholomule anymore. They probably looked like two land stranded merfolk. He was glad Boscha and her friends left before they could watch whatever this was. 

Before his self-pity fest could last long, he felt a tap on his shoulders. Mattholomule had made his way onto his knees. He gestured for Gus to get up and lean on his shoulders. Rather than taking on Gus’ entire weight, Mattholomule let him lean on his shoulder, letting Gus use him as a crutch. 

While the bridal carry was heroic and breathtaking, having Mattholomule simply supporting him warmed his heart. His heart wasn’t beating as fast as it was before, fluttering instead of threatening to burst out of his ribcage. 

Plus, he was always more into the hidden soft side of the bad boy Vincenzo than he was into the dramatic romantics of Fernando. 

They made their way slowly off the field, trying to keep as much weight off Gus’ right foot as possible. With Gus’ most recent growth spurt, there was a decent height difference between them. It probably looked like Gus was crushing Mattholomule on purpose. 

“Thanks, Matty,” Gus aloud. “You’re really a nice guy underneath all that bad boy bravado.” 

He held back a snort when he saw Mattholomule’s ears gave an annoyed twitch. The other boy moved to pinch his cheeks but stumbled, bringing Gus along with him. Though they didn’t fall this time, Gus yelped when his ankle hit the ground wrong. 

They took another few steps before they slowed to a halt. Mattholomule looked at him, holding eye contact. 

“Augustus, why do you even care?” Mattholomule said, barely above a whisper. “I’ve done nothing but cause you trouble, yet you’re always watching out for me.” 

“Matty,” Gus began. 

“You’re the first friend to actually stick around, even my childhood friend saw me as a tool more than as a friend,” Mattholomule had a rare serious expression on. “Why do you care?” 

What took Gus aback wasn’t the words, but the delivery. His tone wasn’t sad, but rather, resigned, as if he was expecting Gus to reveal some ulterior motive. 

“I,” Gus thought for a moment, “I think you’re interesting?” 

Gus internally cringed, maybe he really should have taken Principal Bump’s revived Magic of Friendship seminar. He really needed a review in the Reassuring Your Lame Friends unit. 

“Stupid answer,” Mattholomule replied without any malice. 

“Look,” Titan, this would probably send Mattholomule running to the hills. “I just think you’re really interesting. You rush into things but you’re actually pretty smart when you sit down and think. You’re pretty clumsy but you still keep going. And your nose scrunches up when you’re concentrating and I think it’s really c-” 

Gus stopped himself there. He looked at Mattholomule who just stared dumbly back at him. Not an ounce of its usual malice or mischief. According to Gus’ internal notes, that meant he was genuinely taken aback, surprised. Gus wasn’t sure if keeping every one of Mattholomule’s different expressions stored somewhere in the back of his head was a bane or a boon. 

Then he realized if he let his pause go on any longer, it’d get weirder than it already was. 

“I think it’s really. . . candid,” Gus finished lamely. 

Mattholomule’s expression returns to the judgemental default. 

“You lost me there, man,” Mattholomule muttered, but he was grinning as he rolled his eyes. “You’re really a weird guy.” 

“And your friend,” Gus added.
“What?” Mattholomule asked, dumbfounded. 

“I’ve only been calling myself your friend for a year and a half!” Gus was genuinely flabbergasted. “I made us human-themed friendship bracelets and you accepted it! You’re wearing it right now!” 

As he said, on Mattholomule’s left wrist was a beaded bracelet with real human teeth from a senior citizen’s dent-textures, glass eyeballs that actually made eye contact, and shrunken hands to represent high-fives. The matching pair was on his right hand and he wore it every day. He noticed Mattholomule did too, not that he was paying that much attention. 

Mattholomule bristled, “I wasn’t sure if you were telling the truth.” 

“Huh?” 

“Like, I know you’re nice and there isn’t any more bad blood between us,” Mattholomule fiddled with his bangs before continuing, “but I just couldn’t believe it. I thought one day you’d meet someone better and move on from a weakling jerk like me. It’s only what’s been happening my entire life.” 

Ah, Bria. Gus really wanted to scare her again and maybe blackmail her a bit. 

“I would never do that,” Gus felt a blush overtake his face. “I just really want to hear you call me your friend verbally. Most people only think of me as that smart kid, they don’t want to be friends with me because I’m a genius or because I’m a lot younger. You’re kinda mean but that actually makes me feel better?”

Mattholomule scoffed and rolled his eyes, which actually wasn’t that bad of a sign. When the other boy kept quiet, Gus continued.   

“People think I’m unapproachable because I’m a prodigy or they look down on me as a kid. I want you to trust and rely on me. I know how bad Glandus was for you, but I don’t want to feel like such an embarrassment to you that you’d deny our friendship.” 

His blush must have heated up another ten degrees when Mattholomule scoffed and started ruffling his hair. Unlike Luz, who aimed for maximum friction and static, Mattholomule ruffled surprisingly gently. It was at an awkward angle because Mattholomule was supporting his weight, but he knew it was the best one he ever received. 

“I’m good at feelings and words and stuff, but I do care. If those kids actually got to know you’d, they’d know you’re a dramatic, scheming, and kind of freaky guy. I like those things about you,” Mattholomule chuckled. He quietly added, “sorry I didn’t say it more, but I see you as a friend, my best friend.” 

Call Gus crazy, but hearing those simple words genuinely made his heart soar. Not only was Mattholomule being entirely honest, Gus could tell from the held eye contact, but he also confirmed he saw Gus as a friend. The best he could do was to reassure him in turn, because Gus knew better than anyone else how emotional Mattholomule was underneath his fragile and inflated ego. 

“I feel the same. I’ll never abandon you. If I didn’t abandon you when we were rivals, then I definitely wouldn’t abandon my best friend,” Gus looked up at the sky and imagined how cool he must look now. “And thank you for calling me your best friend, it feels really nice to hear it aloud. I was actually scared, you know.” 

“You know, you worry about some stupid things, idiot,” Mattholomule sneered. 

“What? No, you’re the idiot!” Gus fumed a bit. “I called you my friend and invited you to so many hangouts. I even crawled into Hooty once to get you out. Sometimes I still squeeze owl demon slime out of my boots.” 

They both shuttered at that particular memory. 

“True, but you seriously thought that I, the guy who accidentally flew across the cafeteria, would be embarrassed by someone as amazing as you?” Mattholomule snapped. “You’re hardworking, creative, and nice. I don’t care if you make mistakes, I probably fuck up twice as much as you do.” 

Mattholomule pinched his cheek and pulled. Hard. 

“You’re the idiot, admit it!” shouted into Gus’ ear as if that would automatically make him correct. 

Gus grabbed onto Mattholomule’s cheek and pulled equally hard. 

“No, you!” 

Between the urge to best the other and to avoid injuring Gus’ ankle any further, they awkwardly scuffled and shouted at each other while standing in one spot. They spun around, jilted and uncoordinated in some bizarre shuffling dance. Their earlier insecurities apparently lost for the sake of being right. 

Gus realized that he was still leaning on Mattholomule’s shoulders. The competitive cheek pulling had only closed the little distance between them. Sure, they both showed affection physically, but the close contact started to overheat Gus’ brain. 
“H-hey, Matty,” Gus said, “let’s just say we’re both idiots.” 

“Maybe when you admit that you’re the bigger one.” 

At least Mattholomule stopped pulling on his cheeks. Instead he moved his hand to cup Gus’ chin, pinching both cheeks at the same time. 

Gus blushed, this was significantly worse. Mattholomule could probably feel how warm he was getting. He had to get the upper hand back somehow. 

“I still think saving someone’s life is a pretty big declaration of friendship,” Gus said. “We’re best friends because of my heroics!” 

“Shut up,” Mattholomule hissed, seemingly in a better mood than before. “I saved you from Bria and her goons, remember?” 

“Silly Matty,” Gus used the hand around Mattholomule’s shoulder to playfully pat the cheek he just finished pinching, “it actually all started when I valiantly saved you from the detention pit snakes and I inspired you to become kinder.” 

Gus summoned an illusion of himself, with chiseled muscles and a flowing cloak. In each hand was a detention pit demon, held by its throat. 

“Yeah, no,” Mattholomule scoffed and drew a magic circle of his own. 

A giant spike grew out of the ground bursting illusion Gus as he gave one final dying screech. It was one of his favorite pre-recorded ones that he added into his less sentient illusions, a true work of art. 

“It’s really creepy that your illusions scream like that,” Mattholomule said as he watched what remained of illusion Gus drift away with the breeze. “You’re one weird kid, Augustus.” 

“Call me Gus again,” Gus blurted out without thinking, “like you did when you were worried about me!” 

“What? I wasn’t worried, I mean I was, but I didn’t mean to, I mean, it was just,” Mattholomule flushed so hard Gus could practically feel him radiating heat. “Shut up, Augustus!” 

“I like it better when you call me, Gus. It’s my really cool human nickname and,” Gus glanced over at Mattholomule, “it makes me feel like we’re really friends.” 

“Sappy shortie,” Mattholomule muttered. “Don’t group me in with your happy-go-lucky friendship potion guzzling weirdos.” 

Gus deflated a bit. Mattholomule took the silence as the signal to start moving again. Maybe hoping for complete honesty and openness from his prickly friend was too much to ask for. 

“Don’t look so glum, it doesn’t suit you. We literally went over this, we’re friends and always will be. I’ll even embarrass myself and risk detention by hijacking Bumpy’s announcements if you want,” Mattholomule grumbled as he practically dragged Gus along. “Don’t actually ask me to do that, because I will.” 

Gus’s ears perked a bit. Though he didn’t say anything, Mattholomule still seemed to understand the unspoken question.
“Yes, I did say we’ll be friends forever, even when we’re old, stinky, and wrinkly. Wanna make an Everlasting Oath to seal the deal?” Maybe Mattholomule had hit his niceness limits of the day, because he immediately added, “Just know my terms would be that if you ever break the Oath I’m allowed to feed you a frog potion, Eileen actually likes me better, so she’ll give me one for sure.” 

Suddenly Gus’ body filled with renewed energy. If his ankle didn’t hurt so much then he’d skip and dance across this field. It didn’t even matter that Mattholomule threatened to turn him into a frog, in fact that actually made it better. Mattholomule had said in his own mean little way that he always wanted Gus in his life and would be upset with his absence. 

Staying in each other’s lives forever. Mattholomule had said it so honestly and earnestly. He was even willing to make an Everlasting Oath over it. 

He was bursting with so much joy that he didn’t notice when Mattholomule dragged them to behind the bleachers, hidden from view of the main school building and littered with various bits of garbage. The sight of all the garbage and a potential demon skeleton were a stark contrast to his daydreaming. 

“Uh, Matty? This isn’t the healing coven homeroom, cuz, you know,” Gus gestured vaguely at their collective injuries, then at all the trash around them. 

“Ugh, I don’t want to think of them,” Mattholomule snapped. “I used to get sent there so often that I was used as a case study! They tried to heal a curse out of me! Can’t a guy just be clumsy and accident prone in peace?” 

Gus laughed out loud. When he saw that Mattholomule was so angry that his hair looked like it was puffing up like a cat’s he laughed even harder. 

“Stop it! I’d throw you into a pit if you weren’t so hurt right now!” Mattholomule slammed his hand against Gus’ mouth, which did nothing to muffle his laughter. 

“Okay, then,” Gus moved Mattholomule’s hand off his mouth. “What are we supposed to do instead, limp back home? Can you carry me that far?” 

“Ugh, no! I’m doing this.” 

Mattholomule lurched forward and Gus panicked. A million thoughts raced through his head. Did Mattholomule want to hit him even though he promised he wouldn’t? Kill him and bury his body under the bleachers? Bring him a bit closer and ki- 

Instead of any of the increasingly drastic scenarios Gus imagined, Mattholomule gently placed his hands on Gus’ ankle. His nose scrunched up and his hands were lit up by the magic circle he drew. It was still yellow like it normally was, but the magic that came from it felt different. 

“Healing magic?” Gus whispered in awe. 

Bo’s magic was soft and warm, like clothing dried in the sun. Viney’s magic made his skin feel tingly, like how his tongue felt when he drank a bottle of carbonated apple blood. Cat’s was cold and numb, like an ice pack pressed against your skin for too long. 

Mattholomule’s magic was different. It flickered and waned, as if it were a flame that was struggling to stay lit. As they sat there in silence, the flicker grew increasingly warm to the point it almost burned. The healing was clumsy at best. Right now he could feel Mattholomule’s magic in waves. Whereas the healing track students could heal without him feeling a thing, keeping their magic consistent and getting it down with one loop. All the while, Mattholomule, who had begun noticeably sweating, kept drawing circle after circle over Gus’ ankle. 

“Matty, you’re using healing magic?” Gus asked. 

“Yes, now shut up and let me catch my breath,” Mattholomule grumbled. 

“How did you do that?” 

“Shut up, I need to concentrate,” Mattholomule whispered angrily when his circle flickered for a second. 

Gus immediately shut his mouth and watched in silence. After Belos’ defeat, multi-tracking was allowed. It had taken a while, but most students branched out into new courses. Gus started dabbling in Oracle magic, though he didn’t like it as much as illusions, it was useful for communicating with the ghosts of the Illusionist Graveyard. Other students, like Willow and Mattholomule, were perfectly happy in one track. Though maybe he was wrong about that initial assumption

Mattholomule stopped his circle and grabbed Gus’ ankle, forcing it to twist around. The movements were sharp, but it only stung a little, he definitely could make it home and take a stronger healing potion later. 

“Almost as good as new,” Mattholomule said. 

Mattholomule let out a heavy sigh and almost slumped over, catching himself before he did. His skin was a bit ashy and he looked nauseous. 

Odd, that was primarily a sign of overusing magic. Each witch’s bile sac was a different size, depleting their magic left them drained and lethargic. Had Mattholomule used up all his magic already? Sure, he used his magic against Boscha earlier, but so did Gus and he wasn’t feeling drained at all. Gus, who had an abundant amount of magic, had only been depleted of magic once, and that was forced by a Basilisk's jaws. 

“Thanks, Matty,” Gus scooted closer to Mattholomule. Though Gus was curious about the magic, he wanted to make sure he was okay first. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh just peachy,” Mattholomule grumbled. “Not everyone is as energetic as you are. I went to class, healed my injuries from lunch, made rock walls to protect your lame ass against Boscha, and healed your stupid ankle. Just shut up, stay still, and let me close my eyes.” 

Mattholomule rudely grabbed Gus’ arm, unbuckled the Grudgby armor, and carelessly threw it to the side before doing the same to his own. Then he laid his head on Gus’ shoulders with a huff. His eyes immediately squeezed shut. Even when he was more relaxed, Mattholomule still scowled. Though Gus had a million questions to ask, he stayed silent for the other boy’s sake. Instead he tried to enjoy the atmosphere without dying from bile sac rupture. 

At one point, Gus lost track of the time. His legs were falling asleep and his mind was working into overdrive. Both questions about Mattholomule apparently knowing healing magic and panic about the physical contact swirled around Gus’ brain. He felt as if his brain would melt and ooze out of his ears, which flicked nervously. 

“I can feel your brain overheating, squirt,” Mattholomule muttered with his eyes still closed. “Ask me what you want, before you die of nerdiness or something.” 

A quick glance told Gus that Mattholomule still looked bad, like worse than usual. Usually Mattholomule was a furnace, but now he was just at a normal level of warmth. Which probably meant something bad. He cursed his past self for refusing to take healing classes. Witches couldn’t die of bile sac depletion, could they? 

No, that was silly. 

“Are you okay?” Gus asked, as much as he wanted answers, he had to make sure Mattholomule was okay first. “Do you need some water?” 

Just to be sure, Gus paused before he added, “Do you see a light? If you do, don't go into it!” 

“I’m not dying, asshole,” Mattholomule hissed. “Ask me your nerd questions before I shave your eyebrows off.” 

As if to prove that point that he was fine, Mattholomule jabbed Gus in the stomach. Gus internally sighed in relief. If Mattholomule had the energy to be annoyed, then he really would be okay after all. 

“So,” Gus held himself back from rambling, “healing magic? How did a slacker like you learn it?” 

“I was there all the time for being a klutz,” Mattholomule said and drew something Gus didn’t understand in the air in front of them. “I just kinda of copied what they did when I got small scratches and injuries. You just force your body to be better or something.” 

“That’s a really bad explanation.” 

Mattholomule’s eyes shot open. 

“Look, I’m not good with books, but if I see it happen in front of me I can copy what they’re doing, kinda like this,” Mattholomule waved his hands around in a way that didn’t really explain anything. “If you pay attention to things outside of your dorky books, you’ll see that there’s a structure to everything.” 

Gus took a chance and leaned his head against Mattholomule’s. The other boy barely reacted to the contact, so Gus took a second to savor the feeling before speaking. 

“You know, Matty, you’re actually pretty smart. I can’t believe you healed a twisted ankle without cracking open a single textbook,” Gus could feel Mattholomule preen with the praise. “Though I do think you should still go to a class or something, then you’d get really good. We could dominate the Illusion, Oracle, Construction, and Healing tracks!” 

That last comment soured Mattholomule’s mood in an instant. 

“I’m not good with books and I’m not good with lectures, I’d rather do my own thing,” grumbled Mattholomule and his hands gestured vaguely. “I don’t want to be tied down to whatever magic I do.” 

“I get it. Like take me for example, while I’m a budding Master Illusionist and a novice Oracle, I want to be a human world ambassador!” Gus leaned a bit further onto Mattholomule, purposely squishing him a bit. “So tell me, what’s your dream?”

Mattholomule stayed silent for a moment before furiously shaking his head back and forth. His ears flicked nervously and the tips flushed red. He didn’t really get why Mattholomule would be embarrassed, but he decided to let it slide for now. 

“That’s fine too,” Gus said as he gave a few short, sharp nods. “I’ll be there by your side the entire way, even if you decide to become a mediocre French human mine!” 

“Ugh, sometimes I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mattholomule swatted at Gus’ face, “and get off me! Your pointy chin is drilling a hole into my head!” 

“Well, Matty, some of us actually went through witch puberty and got super chiseled,” Gus grinned charmingly at an imaginary camera. 

“Shut up, let’s go home. I need a nap and I don’t want to take it under these gross bleachers and on your gross shoulders.” 

“So, would you nap on me if I were a squeaky clean boy?” 

“I mean, I guess” Mattholomule caught himself. “I-I mean, er, well, what I meant-” 

All of a sudden Mattholomule buried his face in his hands. After a few seconds he pushed his bangs back. Like a snake, Mattholomule slithered out from underneath Gus’ chin. He stood up and brushed the dirt off himself, as if it was of any use. Though he still looked a bit dazed, he glared down at Gus with his hands on his hips. 

Normally Gus would call out the nervous flit to his eyes, but the implication that Mattholomule didn’t mind resting on his shoulders was causing his heart to flip flop around in his chest. 

“What I meant to say is to NEVER call yourself a squeaky clean boy,” Mattholomule looked away and added, “I’ll get your stuff, okay? I’m being a nice friend.” 

Gus was too busy reeling when Mattholomule turned on his heel and left, stomping his untied sneakers into the dirt. He stopped to kick at an empty soda can, only for it to bounce back and hit him in the head. When he stepped out from under the bleachers, he nearly tripped on his laces. All the while, he cursed under his breath. 

Gus looked at him as if he were the sun. 

“Are you just going to sit there?” Mattholomule called out. “If you don’t come over I’m gonna steal your bag.”

Something deep in the depths of Gus’ mind protested the idea, but Gus pushed it down in favor of running after Mattholomule, using his voice as a grounding point. He ran after him, making sure to pick up the gear Mattholomule threw aside, tossing them slightly less carelessly into a bin leftover from some gym class. 

Gus hopped and spun around the corner to the front of the bleachers where Boscha left their stuff. He tested his ankle, it was a bit sore, but there wasn’t any sharp pain. It was an amazing job for a healer that had never even gone to a class.  

“Hey!” Mattholomule peeked over the side of the bleachers, a toothy grin adorned his face. “Boscha and her hellish harpies didn’t do anything to our stuff!” 

“Maybe she had a change of heart after the game?” wondered Gus. 

“I’m not gonna answer that,” Mattholomule said, though his smile was still unabashedly wide. 

“So rude,” Gus muttered. 

Mattholomule laughed heartily. He hopped onto one of the rungs of the bleacher’s railing, leaning precariously over. Gus was going to tell him to be careful when he got distracted by Mattholomule brushing some of his still charred bangs out of his face. If Gus looked closely enough he could see Mattholomule’s tooth gap. Mattholomule was only one level of the bleacher higher than him, so they weren’t really that far apart, so Gus could memorize every detail of Mattholomule’s smile and how it warmed his entire body up. 

Titan, the last time a smile gave him such a rush was with Bria, and he had a gigantic embarrassing cr- 

Before Gus could finish that thought, he was almost crushed by Mattholomule. 

Almost. 

One second Mattholomule was laughing at him. Then the next second, falling over, the contents of their school bags flying around everywhere. 

Gus yelped and lunged forward with his arms outstretched in an attempt to catch Mattholomule before he hit the ground. 

The good news was that Mattholomule only fell a few feet, meaning he wouldn’t have been grievously hurt. The bad news was that Gus only had seconds to react. 

Before Gus could really process what was happening, he had an armful of Mattholomule, who frankly looked like he wanted to shrivel up and die. Gus had some vague memory of Luz and Amity in a similar, if less chaotic, situation. 

They stayed frozen there for a split second, before Gus piped up, moreso to distract himself than anything else. 

“So, you come here often?” 

The bad joke broke the tension. 

“You’re insufferable,” muttered Mattholomule. 

“And stronger than you,” Gus said. “You couldn’t lift me for more than a second.” 

With a flip of a switch Mattholomule started to screech creative insults and flail his arms until Gus stumbled and was forced to let go.
At least this time Gus managed to keep himself balanced, but Mattholomule fell face down in the dirt for what must have been the hundredth time that day. 

“Dude, I really think you are cursed,” Gus told Mattholomule, who only shook a fist at him in reply. 

While Mattholomule brewed in his pity party, Gus began to pick up their fallen items, sorting them into their different school bags. He hummed quietly to himself as he sorted out the different textbooks and brushed dirt off of stray homework assignments. 

“Hey, Gus,” Mattholomule interrupted. 

Gus turned his head to see Mattholomule crouched on the ground, holding up a few objects in his hands, they were rocks with. . . wait. 

“Are these the forgeries I made?”

Gus’ mind raced for options and he plopped to the ground. He could summon a Construction Monster as a distraction, sprint to steal a memory person, move to Human France to become a human mime, or maybe just force his organs to stop through sheer will power.

All of those were a better option than answering Mattholomule’s question. 

“Maybe?” Gus offered. 

Mattholomule raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Gus corrected. 

“Why did you keep these?” Mattholomule asked, without the accusatory tone Gus imagined he would use. “It’s just something dumb I made to be mean.” 

Instead of replying, Gus focused all of his energy into making his organs quit. 

For once in his life, Mattholomule decided to give Gus a little mercy. 

“I guess I didn’t want to talk to you earlier, so you don’t have to share,” Mattholomule said in the gentlest, for Mattholomule standards at least, way possible. “The old me, who I guess still kinda existed half an hour ago, would have accused you of taunting me. But now I know you’re just a big goof with a bigger heart.” 

He let a silence fall between them, giving Gus the chance to speak if he wanted to. When he didn't, Mattholomule filled the space instead. 

“I didn’t make those because I really liked human things. I didn’t even consider human artifacts until you chased me down with a club sign up sheet and a gullible looking face.” 

Gus still remembered that. He was instinctively drawn to the new kid with his hood up and how his eyes flicked around nervously at the crowd around him, as if he was expecting someone to attack him. In hindsight, there might have been a reason for that closed off aura, the one that still existed despite it all. 

“Yeah, and I remember how you sneered at me when I talked to you,” grumbled Gus. 

“Hey! Just because you’re feeling emotionally better that doesn’t mean you can sass me!” Mattholomule snapped. “I was trying to have a moment of being a good friend.” 

“Go on, your princliness,” Gus gestured dramatically. 

Mattholomule narrowed his eyes, but continued, “Anyway, what I was going to say before you rudely interrupted me is that you inspire me. That’s all I’m gonna say so don’t even bother asking for more!”

At this point, Gus was already an expert at filling out rude filler phrases. 

“Do you really mean that?” asked Gus.
“Stupid!” Mattholomule reached over and used two hands to stretch out each of Gus’ cheeks. “You’re the whole reason I want to go to the human world, so I can make real relics instead of that trash that you treasure so much!” 

“You wan chu oo chu da hooma worl?” Gus tried to ask even though his lips couldn’t reach each other. 

Mattholomule let go of Gus’ cheeks and started sputtering, “No! I mean, yes! I mean, just stop listening to me now!”

He pulled his hood up and pulled on the strings hard. Ah, the good old hiding in the hoodie trick, which meant it was Gus’ turn to start talking. 

“That actually makes me really happy to hear, since I kept those because I thought you were really clever in making them,” Gus tried to keep from rambling, but it was hard to hold himself back. “They also made me realize that even though you’re a little mean; you’re also resilient, really funny, and have a secret soft spot. They remind me of you, and I guess they represent how much I’ve liked you all this time and if you want we should really travel the human world together?” 

“You must really like me, huh?” Mattholomule replied, voice soft. 

With those words, Gus realized how that confession sounded. It sounded well, a bit like a confession. Gus replayed the entire day inside of his mind. Then he rewinded back to when Luz teased him about how he must “really like” Mattholomule and offered him advice she used on her girlfriend. On top of that, the embarrassing blushing. He’d dropped his entire after school plans for a boy, quite happily at that. 

And they called him a prodigy, a genius. 

“I really, really like you,” Gus thought. 

“What was that?” Mattholomule asked. “I didn’t catch that.” 

Titan. 

“What I totally said was,” Gus jumped into the air, and struck a silly pose, “Ice screamy timey now-y!” 

Luckily for him, Mattholomule's head was thicker than concrete. 

“That’s right, you still owe me ice-scream,” Mattholomule said. “I feel like we went through the plot of an entire chapter of Luz’s dating sim game.”

Gus laughed. If only Mattholomule knew what was going on inside of Gus’ brain. 

In a short time, they were changed back into their school uniforms, ready to put the pains of the Grudgby field behind them. 

“Is your ankle okay?” Mattholomule asked as they walked towards the front gates. “You’re not limping at least.” 

“I should be asking if you’re okay, since you used up a lot of magic today,” Gus shot back. 

Mattholomule rolled his eyes, “I’m fine, we’ll go to my place to get some potions and healing glyphs. I’ll feel even better when you buy me ice-scream first.”  

After saying that, Mattholomule’s hand shot out to impatiently tug on the strap of Gus’ satchel, practically dragging him forward. 

“I really like this,” Gus said out loud, without quite expecting an answer. “I like learning new things about you. And I like showing you new things about me.” 

Mattholomule flashed him a smile that was somewhere between smug and affectionate. Whatever you’d call it, it made Gus’ heart flutter all the same. 

“Technically, me being a lot smarter than you thought and you being a lot mopey than I thought has always been a thing. We, mostly you, were just too blind to see it.” 

Ah, classic Mattholomule, always wanting the last word. Though that was probably one of Gus’ favorite things about him. Sure, it could be annoying, but it kept him on his toes. 

“Matty, I always thought you were smart.” Gus said, while he tried to keep a serious expression, his mask cracked when he saw Mattholomule blush at the praise. 

“Okay! Enough mushy feelings today, okay?” Mattholomule tugged on Gus’ bag sharply. “Ice scream, now.” 

Gus’ entire body hurt and he knew he was low in allowance snails, but he wouldn’t go through it again day after day if it meant getting closer to Mattholomule. 

Gus let the flutters of a newly discovered crush wash warmly over him. Call him a dramatic romantic, but he already knew that no matter what, Mattholomule would be an important person in his life. 

And that was enough for now. For thirteen.