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It all started because of the t-shirt.
You see, Joel was new to this soulmate deal. What was that all even about? And everyone else seemed to either completely shut it out or fall so easily into it, getting married, getting homes, getting farms. What was Joel even supposed to do?
He certainly would not turn away help and company. It was all he had craved in Last Life, all he had been denied. He wasn’t impulsive enough to shut out his soulmate, even less so considering it was Etho—famous across worlds because of his skills and infamous because of his shenanigans. He was useful. He was fun.
Joel wasn’t stupid.
But what then? He wasn’t about to get married to the guy. They could probably use a house, but right now their place consisted of a total of 7 chests, 3 furnaces, 1 composter, 1 crafting table and 1 precarious cobblestone wall. All out in the open.
Joel was just… lost. He was just lost. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to act? When everyone he didn’t want to be like was by themselves and everyone else was off doing– whatever it was they were doing.
They were going around trying to show everyone that they had found their soulmate, trying to show everyone how happy they were. Was that what Joel was supposed to do?
He was just really out of his depth here. This was… not his territory, exactly. He would’ve preferred it if they had spawned in with, like, an axe each or something, rather than a life-long soul bond. But life was unfair and so he had ended up in this predicament.
He was not to blame, then, for taking Etho's t-shirt.
He was just really confused about everything, okay? What with everyone showing off and with their lack of home and with Etho's "No, don't tell me–" and all.
Look, who even has a t-shirt with their own face in it?
He found it while looking through their chests for something to do, and it was just convenient timing, you see. It was right there, the opportunity to show off his soulmate like everyone else was doing without having to actually do much. No lovey-dovey shit, no sudden marriages. Just a t-shirt.
It looked soft and comfy anyway.
He was not making up excuses.
"Is that my t-shirt?"
“Not anymore, it isn’t.”
It was Etho’s fault, then. Because he enabled Joel. He just stood there staring at Joel like he didn’t know how he was supposed to react, like he wasn’t sure if he should call Joel out or join him in his rounds around the server to show everyone his new item of clothing.
He did neither. So Joel kept doing it.
If you've already demolished the wall, might as well jump over it. Do a somersault while you’re at it.
He stole a hoodie next.
Look, Joel didn’t even know Etho owned hoodies. Not until the third night, when they finally had the Relation to settle down comfortably for the night. When they went to sleep, Etho replaced his bulky vest with a soft-looking hoodie that was only a tad too big for him, just enough to be comfortable. And if Etho wasn’t gonna wear it during the day, the warm, mellow thing was just going to waste. Joel was just being fair when he stole it. If Etho wasn’t going to take advantage of it the proper way, then he would.
And so what if he liked its perfume? That was beyond the point.
It featured a potato with googly eyes. That was the important bit.
“That does not fit you, man. I’m sorry to be the one to break it to you.”
“Rude much?”
Maybe the hoodie looked way too big on Joel when he crossed his arms, sleeves covering his hands and the leftover bit fisted in his hand. What about it? Sure, under normal circumstances Joel would’ve not let anyone ever see him like this; he was big and tall and strong, thank you very much. But now… now he had a soulmate who had a comfy hoodie that smelled really nice and felt really good against his skin. And he was wasting it. Joel was solely doing this out of principle, out of spite. How dare Etho do this? Etc etc.
“It’s not even rude, dude, it’s just objective.”
“You’re just jealous that you can’t take my stuff in return. That’s what this is about.”
“I don’t even know why you’re doing this.” Etho just sounded resigned.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?”
Etho covered his face with his hands and shook his head. He failed to cover up his smile.
He didn’t ask for it back that night.
(That same night, Joel realized that the reason why the hoodie smelled so nice was because it smelled like Etho. If he scooted closer to him in the bed, then it was no one's business but his own. And if the extrinsic warmth in his chest was anything to go by, his soulmate didn't mind it one bit.)
So how could it be Joel’s fault?
The vest was just the next logical step, obviously.
Etho had five of them, like one of those cartoon characters that opened their closet to reveal several identical sets of clothes. What was Joel supposed to do, huh? Let that go?
It was too funny. And the neck of the vest was soft, okay?
“Um.”
Joel felt a twinge of something inside his chest, dulled enough to recognize it as Etho's. It was disorienting in its suddenness, there only long enough for it to be noticed but gone just as fast. It was clearly repressed and just straight up confusing.
It felt like possessiveness.
Joel blinked a couple of times in rapid succession, trying to process the feeling. "Wow, okay. If you felt so strongly about your vests you should've said so. I've been taking your stuff enough that you must’ve surely seen this one coming."
Etho's face turned bright red. Joel had never seen him like that. He was looking at Joel then looking away, then looking back at Joel and away again. It seemed like he couldn't get himself to look at Joel out of embarrassment, but couldn't bring himself to look away either.
"It’s– It’s not–”
Joel raised a brow.
“It’s not what?” he dared Etho to finish that sentence.
Etho turned away and replied while he inconspicuously crafted something on their 1 (one) crafting table. “It’s not the– It’s not the vest.”
Joel frowned. “Then what is it?”
Etho was very intently looking at the wooden planks in his hands. He crafted a boat. Two.
“It’s just that it’s–” he made stairs– “very clearly mine.”
“Aha, sure. Your point?”
He hadn't known Etho to be awkward. But then he crafted sticks. A fence post.
"It's nothing," he said. "I just like it, I guess."
A fence gate.
Joel raised a brow at his soulmate. “Yeah?”
“...Yeah.”
“And why would that be?”
Sticks. Sticks. Sticks. A ladder.
“No reason.”
Joel rolled his eyes with a smile. “Sure. Whatever. Mine now.”
Another something in his chest.
“Okay,” Etho gave in with a small huff that denoted amusement more than it denoted annoyance. “But I want your axe for a bit. Can I have it?” He paused. “Why am I even asking. You didn’t ask. I’m taking your axe. Take it as a heads-up.”
“Wait no that’s illegal.”
“Too late now I guess.”
And Joel laughed, eyes bright and annoyed and fascinated.
He placed his axe on top of a chest, shook his head, and left to gather (read: steal) stuff from people around the server.
If he just wanted to flaunt his new vest, no one had to know that.
And if he liked the thought of Etho going around displaying his axe, well, what about it?
Shut up. Seriously, shut up.
It was just so easy, okay? And comfortable. And it felt nice. And so what!
So obviously he was gonna keep doing it. Like, what else could you expect from him? It was completely justified, you see. And now Etho was also taking his stuff, so they were even.
They were even.
That’s how Joel ended up with stolen hair dye. Etho’s hair wasn’t white by nature, he discovered. Disappointing, honestly. So he dyed his colored streak white to make fun of him. Obviously. As he should.
“You did not just–”
Etho was wearing his regular clothes, but was covered head to toe with little trinkets that were so clearly new on him. So clearly Joel’s.
“I did.”
Joel especially liked the emerald earring. The golden ring. The carefully crafted iron sword in its sheath on his back.
He would very much like them back where they belonged, though. (He didn’t.)
“You’re unbelievable.”
“And you dye your hair white. For what? Cosplay?”
“Shut up,” Etho groaned.
“No.”
“You are insufferable.”
“And you’re my soulmate, so. Sucks to be you I guess. I’m awesome though.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
No he didn’t. Etho did not, in fact, hate Joel. And Joel knew that.
He knew it because of the overwhelming fondness currently occupying his chest. None of it was his, obviously.
Obviously.
“I’m really close, though.”
Joel very blatantly looked him up and down, making sure to fix his eyes an extra second on each and every one of his accessories. There were many.
“It sure doesn’t seem so.”
He broke the crafting table and put it inside a chest this time. Just for good measure.
“Oh, come on.”
Joel snickered.
“You wasted all my wood last time. You made two stacks of sticks. Two–” he accentuated his words by raising two fingers– “stacks.”
“I wasted your–”
“I’m gonna stop you right there.”
“Okay.”
Silence. The softest quirk of lips, so small and so unequivocally genuine.
“I’m still waiting for you to get back everything you wasted, by the way.”
“Oh my god.”
Etho grinned at Joel half against his will, as he grabbed Joel’s axe from a chest without giving it a single second of thought. He headed out without looking back, except for the moment in which he called over his shoulder, “By the way, I’m bringing you acacia wood.”
“Oh you little–” He laughed, grabbing Etho’s bow as he followed his soulmate out. “It’s nighttime, you idiot.”
And really, how could Joel be blamed?