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Branzy was sitting in the kitchen, sipping cola, feeling a strange sense of deja vu, when a high pitched scream coming from Clown’s room pierced the silence.
Branzy immediately shot up, spilling his cola, running to Clown’s room.
The cola could wait.
What happened to Clown?
Branzy was already imagining all of the possible things that could’ve happened to Clown, when he ripped open the door to Clown’s room and saw Clown stand ducked on the window sill staring down in what looked like fear.
“Clown?” Branzy asked, terrified, “What’s wrong?”
“Branzy?” Clown whispered, almost in tears, “Branzy, save me there- there’s a spider, save me Branzy, help!”
Branzy, still in shock, asked, “A- a spider?”
“There!” Clown pointed to a thin spider that was no bigger than three centimetres, shaking slightly.
“I-,” Branzy stammered, nervously, “Do you want me to catch it and throw it out for you…?”
“Just- just remove it, please!”
Branzy nodded and rushed back to the kitchen to get a glass and a piece of paper.
When he got back to Clown’s room a few seconds later, he didn’t look up from where he was staring at the spider with what Branzy was almost sure was fear, so Branzy hurried and trapped the spider in the glass, then picked it up.
“Clown, could you get down from there, so I can throw out the spider?” he asked softly.
Clown took a few seconds before nodding slowly and carefully climbing down from the window sill, making sure to not get too close to Branzy and the spider, who then opened up the window and let the spider climb on the wall outside, before closing it again.
“There,” Branzy said, “The evil spider is gone.”
Clown was taking deep breaths.
“Thank you, Branzy,” he said breathlessly, “My saviour.”
Branzy chuckled.
“So, you’re scared of spiders?” he asked, because honestly, he did not expect that from Clown.
“Mh… Let’s call them what they are: Creepy crawly death dealers,” Clown answered, quoting Patton.
“Sanders Sides?” Branzy asked. “Nice.”
Clown smiled a not-smile and nodded.
“They should not be allowed to exist,” he stated, smiling blankly.
Branzy chuckled once more.
“If you say so…,” he mumbled. “Anyways, are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, let me just…,” Clown said, moving across the room, picking various things up and putting them in his schlackpack, “...get my things.”
He put on the schlackpack, which was by far the most cursed thing Branzy had ever seen, and put his phone in his red and black striped hoodie-jacket’s pocket.
“Yep,” he said, “I’m ready to go.”
Branzy nodded and started walking out of Clown’s room.
They were going to the orthodontist for Branzy’s check up appointment.
Usually, Branzy went with Rek, because doctor’s appointments are terrifying, but Rek, the traitor, decided to get sick and throw up the day before the appointment, like the L-taker he was, so Clown offered to go with him instead.
While they were walking to the bus stop, Branzy thought about how great it was that he had a student’s ticket for public transport and they had a functioning public transport system, as well as free healthcare. Simultaneously, he imagined a world where a self-proclaimed ‘first world country’ did not have any of those things. That would be really stupid and cringe, he decided.
Thank the gods Philza Minecraft added free healthcare and easy access to basic necessities when he invented America so his would-be American friends had somewhere to exist.
They got to the bus stop about two minutes before their bus came and when it came, sat on the front right seats together, because apparently Clown had that thing where you have to always sit in the same place (or do everything the same way) every time or the world would end and had imprinted on that particular pair of seats.
Branzy casually and platonically hooked his arm around Clown’s, holding his cold and soft hand, to which Clown responded by squeezing it.
-
Branzy mumbled something beyond even his own understanding while he walked to the bus stop, holding Clown’s hand.
“Hm?” Clown asked, looking at him with something between concern and faint amusement.
“Aaaaa,” Branzy monotonously said, while being in a lot of pain.
Clown huffed.
“Would it help if I carried you?”
Branzy nodded, because he was not going to just miss out on the opportunity of being carried by Clown.
Thankfully homophobia wasn’t real, so the only potential consequence would be the public humiliation of being carried around in the public, but that wasn’t really of much importance for an ever so slightly delirious Branzy, especially not if it meant he could be close to Clown.
“Alright…,” Clown said, picking up Branzy bridal style, allowing Branzy to lean his head on Clown’s chest.
Branzy pretty much zoned out for the rest of the way home, head full of half thought thoughts of Clown and the comforting warmth he radiated, so much so he barely even noticed when they arrived back home until Clown tried to set him down on the stairs to unlock their apartment door.
Branzy however had other plans as he kept clinging to Clown, who let out a low chuckle.
“Branzy, let go,” he said quietly with his borderline hypnotic voice, “I need to unlock the door.”
As much as Branzy did not, in fact, want to let go, he couldn’t help but let go, because it was Clown .
“There,” Clown said after a few seconds, as he moved back to Branzy and picked him up.
Branzy, of course, immediately clung to Clown again.
Then there was that chuckle again.
Branzy could feel the chuckle before he actually heard it and gods, was he in love.
He vaguely registered Clown closing the door with his foot and walking a bit before being set down on a stool.
Opposed to that, Branzy, of course, whined in response, as words just weren’t working all that well right now.
“Branzy, we are washing our hands,” Clown’s soft, yet stern voice came from in front of him.
Man…
Branzy reluctantly let go of Clown.
“Clingy,” Clown whispered, something akin to amusement in his voice.
Branzy would have objected, but before he could, Clown’s cold and soft hands were guiding him into the somewhat warm water and helped him wash them.
Not that anything other than incomprehensible whines would have come out…
After a little bit, the water stopped and his hands were surrounded by fuzzy warm material, which he belatedly identified as a towel.
Then, for a few seconds, there was nothing but a few muffled rustles, before he was picked up again.
Branzy didn’t even realise he had closed his eyes, until Clown laughed softly.
“Are you seriously falling asleep right now?” he asked, a wide smile in his voice.
Branzy didn’t even know what ‘a wide smile in his voice’ was supposed to mean, but it felt exactly like what Clown sounded like. Like, it just had the vibes …
Feeling like he was supposed to answer, Branzy mumbled something against Clown’s warm, warm chest.
“Alright,” Clown said quietly, “Let’s get you to bed then, hm?”
Branzy didn’t completely catch that, as he dozed off for a short few seconds, but he thought he heard the word ‘bed’, so he nodded.
Then, next thing he knew, he was being let down on something soft.
The warm thing that was against him up until a few seconds ago then moved away, which Branzy obviously did not agree with, so he reached out a hand, gripping a soft fabric.
“You want me to stay?” the warm thing asked him, sounding like a mixture of confusion and something akin to …fondness?
Branzy wasn’t sure.
He remembered that he was supposed to answer, so he nodded and lightly pulled the warm thing in his direction.
The warm thing then chuckled and embraced him, as consciousness left him in a fuzzy, warm dream.
-
Branzy woke up with something warm curled into his side.
He opened his eyes, cringing at the light, and looked down and saw a very cuddly looking Clown.
Feeling a smile spread over his face, he moved his hands, which previously had been resting on Clown’s back and moved it on his head to bury it in Clown’s still very soft hair.
Just the feeling of Clown’s hair curling around his fingers was so relaxing.
After a minute or so, he felt Clown’s head shift under his hand.
“Morning, Clown,” Branzy said quietly.
There was a small grumble from Clown’s direction, before Clown slowly opened his eyes.
“Hell,” Clown mumbled and paused, before seemingly remembering something, “...o. Hello.”
Branzy snorted.
“What time is it?” Clown asked, blinking hard.
“It’s…,” Branzy said, looking for his phone, which was on his ‘nightstand’, which was really just multiple school books stacked on one another, and turned it around to check the time, “It’s, uh… 6:21 PM.”
Huh. Why did he wake up so late? And why was his phone on his nightstand? He didn’t remember putting it there…
And… Was he still in his outside clothes? What the fuck…
His thought progress was interrupted by a sleepy giggle from Clown.
“Ah yes, my favourite time of morning: 6:21 PM,” he said.
“Shut up,” Branzy said, smiling fondly, “Listen, when I wake up the normal assumption is that it is morning.”
Clown huffed.
“Imagine waking up when it’s morning,” Clown said.
“Don’t you literally go to sleep at like, 9 PM?” Branzy shot back.
Clown pressed his lips together into a thin line.
After a while he replied, “I try to… I just… Don’t want to completely ruin my sleep schedule and therefore my life because I can’t go to school properly anymore. I just really, really want this to keep working.”
“Awe, Clown,” Branzy exclaimed, brushing a strand of Clown’s luscious hair behind his ear, “I’m teasing! It’s good that you’re taking care of yourself. You’re doing a great job at it too!”
Clown’s cheeks reddened, eyes darting to a point somewhere behind Branzy, the way they did when he was embarrassed.
To stop Clown’s suffering, Branzy changed the subject.
“Soo, what do you want to do until bedtime?” he asked.
“Well, uh… I think I need to freshen up my nails… So, we could do that, if you want to?” Clown suggested.
“Yeah, alright,” Branzy said, “You wanna eat food?”
“Yes, and breathe oxygen,” Clown said, grinning.
“Alright,” Branzy muttered, rolling his eyes good naturedly, “Let’s go to the kitchen, then?”
He sat up and suddenly remembered the pain in his mouth and let out an involuntary hiss of pain.
Ouch.
Clown sat up too.
“Right, I forgot about that,” he said, slipping out of bed and to the door, “I’ll be right back.”
True to his promise, he returned after not even a minute, holding a glass of water and something in a closed fist.
He gave Branzy the glass and then opened his hand, showing Branzy a small pill.
“It’s ibuprofen,” Clown clarified as Branzy took it from his hand, “In case that works for you.”
“It does,” Branzy said, wincing at the pain spiking from his mouth movements as he put the ibuprofen in his mouth and washed it down with the water, “Thanks, Clown.”
“No problem,” Clown said, smiling slightly, “Let’s go to the kitchen then?”
“I think I still have some instant ramen, if you want,” he added after a few seconds.
“Oh,” Branzy said intelligently, “Yeah, that’d be cool.”
He stood up, chugging the last of his water before starting to move to the kitchen.
“Go to the kitchen,” Clown said, walking towards his room, “I’m just gonna go get some instant ramen from my stash.”
Alright.
-
Branzy was kicking his legs, sitting on the counter top as Clown poured hot water into two bowls with obsidian hard instant ramen and ramen condiments in them.
“What do you want to eat them with?” Clown asked him.
“I don’t know,” Branzy said. “Chopsticks? What else does one eat ramen with?”
Clown stared at him for a solid three seconds completely unblinking. "Alright, fuck you too, I guess," he says, opening a drawer, "I was trying to be considerate."
Branzy blinked. "Sorry?" he asked, taking the chopsticks Clown handed him before having to do a double take when he saw Clown take a spoon for himself.
Clown must've sensed his horrorful confusion as he spun the spoon in his hand before explaining.
"I don't like chopsticks 'cause they hurt my fingers and always leave indents," he said, "And the noodles are too slippery."
"I can't see a spoon being any easie-" Branzy said but stopped when he saw Clown crunch his ramen before putting it back into the boiling water.
The two waited a few minutes in comfortable silence until Clown poked his ramen with the handle of his spoon and deemed it ready, before giving the other one to Branzy,
Then the two ate the ramen in relative silence, and Branzy felt himself fall in love with Clown a little more.
When he finished, Branzy put his bowl in the sink and turned to Clown.
“And?” he asked, “What’s this called?”
“What? Eating ramen? Or soaking your bowl?” Clown asked, sounding amused.
“No, the… You know, helping each other?” Branzy asked. “I refuse to believe that there’s not some super secret, special name for it. Like… Assistance exchange?”
Clown snorted.
“Support swapping.” Clown said, his voice turning into a dramatic monologuing one, “There you have them all. The neurodivergent love languages: Body doubling, info dumping, penguin pebbling, deep pressure and support swapping.”
“Man, we’re speedrunning love, aren’t we?” Branzy said half-jokingly, which meant that he was absolutely serious, but keeping the option of saying it’s a joke, in case Clown disagreed.
“What?” Clown asked.
“What?” Branzy asked back.
-
“Why are you suddenly short?” Branzy asked Clown, who was now a similar height to him, “Like, how does it keep changing? You were like, five metres tall, just yesterday,” he noted, just slightly exaggerating.
“Oh, I wear platform boots,” Clown answered simply, as if he had not just completely destroy Branzy’s entire world view.
“What,” Branzy stated, as this was not nearly normal enough for him to be able to just ask about it.
“Oh,” Clown asked slowly, “Did you not know?”
“No, I did not know!” Branzy said, scandalised, “All this time, you weren’t intimidatingly tall?!”
“I…,” Clown started. He sighed.
“You literally saw me multiple times without my platforms?”
“I… I did…,” Branzy mumbled, “How… How did I not notice…?”
Then, they went about their day as though everything was normal and Branzy’s life hadn’t just abruptly changed within two minutes.
