Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I have a proposition for you,” Jade said, coolly sliding into the booth across from Floyd and folding his hands in front of him.

Floyd grimaced. Those words coming from Jade could either mean something fun or something really, really annoying, and he wasn't in the mood to take the gamble right now. He was on break, finally, after an exhausting dinner rush at the lounge, and he just wanted to finish his fries in peace.

“Is it gonna suck?” Floyd asked flatly.

Jade hid a polite chuckle behind his hand. “I will leave that to your discretion,” he replied. He cleared his throat delicately. “I need you to seduce Jamil Viper.”

Floyd was quiet, his expression blank as the words worked their way through his brain. Once he had fully processed the request, he responded in the only way he could come up with.

“Dude.”

“Please, allow me to explain,” Jade continued. “I know you're as cognizant as I am of Azul’s current… predicament, in regards to Jamil.”

Floyd scoffed. “If you're talkin’ about his embarrassing, pathetic, doomed crush, then yeah,” he drawled. “I'm cognizant.”

Jade smiled, but it was a bit tight and unnerving, in a manner so subtle that no one but Floyd would probably even notice. “Precisely,” he said. “And I’m sure you’d agree that it would be beneficial for us as a whole if he were to move past this fruitless endeavor. It has affected his decision-making as of late, and I’ve begun to question whether he can still be counted upon to act in our or his own best interest, particularly in matters where Jamil is concerned.”

Floyd groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “In other words,” he said irritably. “You're in love with Azul, and you want me to take the guy he likes off the market so that he'll choose you.”

Jade, to his credit, was remarkably unphased by the accusation. “I’m sure I don't know what you mean,” he said, placing a sincere hand to his chest. “I make this request only out of concern for our operation and our friend.”

“Whatever,” Floyd said. “There's no way I’m doin’ that. It doesn't sound fun at all.”

Jade quirked an eyebrow. “Does it not?” he asked. “I thought you might enjoy the challenge.”

“Uh, first of all, it wouldn’t even be a challenge. I could make Sea Snake fall for me without breakin’ a sweat,” Floyd clarified with an eye roll. “But pissing off Azul that badly would be way too much of a pain. I don't feel like fighting with him.”

“That is unlikely to be an issue,” Jade continued calmly. “If you were to succeed where Azul has so spectacularly failed, it would only further wound his pride to hold you in contempt. He would have no choice but to accept it.”

Floyd considered that, before lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “Still don't wanna,” he said simply.

Jade sighed theatrically. “Well, I can't force you,” he conceded. “I suppose I will just have to address the matter myself.”

Floyd froze with a fry halfway to his mouth, his eyes slowly moving up to meet Jade’s sharp gaze. He felt uneasy, suddenly, but he wasn't sure why. “What, like… you and Sea Snake?” he asked with a grimace. “No way he’ll go for that.”

“No? I can be rather persuasive.”

“Ugh, you don't even know him,” Floyd whined. “He’s like, the least trusting person ever, no way he won't be suspicious if some shady guy like you shows up outta nowhere and starts hitting on him.”

Jade brought a thoughtful hand to his chin. “Hm. Now that you mention it, his nature would make him resistant to this form of subterfuge,” he mused. “Perhaps you're right. This effort would likely be in vain.”

“Uh, for you,” Floyd corrected. “Like I said, for me it would be a piece of cake. We already hang out at club practice and stuff, and we get along, kinda. I could totally get him to fall for me.”

“Now that I’ve had the chance to reconsider, I’m not entirely convinced of that,” Jade continued. “After all, he’s criticized our— what he perceives to be— dishonest nature before, not only Azul’s. I imagine our pursuit would be met with equal warmth, or lack thereof.”

“Woah. Hold up,” Floyd said darkly, feeling himself grow frustrated. “Are you sayin’ I have as much of a chance of winning over Sea Snake as Azul?”

Jade just shrugged, unbothered. “If I had to guess,” he said simply.

Floyd laughed once in disbelief, leaning back in his seat. “Okay, now you're pissin’ me off,” he said. “Give me two weeks.”

Jade’s eyes glowed. “If you insist,” he said mildly.

—

Jamil had surprised Floyd from the beginning.

From the moment they met, at that very first basketball club practice that Floyd had showed up to on a whim, Floyd had known they wouldn't get along. He knew the type: serious, responsible, boring. He would hate Floyd for his recklessness and irrational behavior, and Floyd would get annoyed by his annoyance. It was a familiar song and dance. After all, as a general rule, people didn't really like Floyd Leech.

But then, something interesting had happened. Floyd had spent most of that first practice testing the capabilities of his still-new legs by trying to drop-kick the ball into the basket, much to the disdain of the other club members; when their attempts to rein him in were unsuccessful, everyone had opted instead to ignore him and continue practicing on the other half of the court. Everyone except Jamil. Jamil had approached him, without any sense of unease, and offered to teach him how to shoot free-throws.

Not only had he not been annoyed by Floyd’s antics, but he’d recognized what no one else had been able to: that Floyd, fresh from an entire life spent underwater, simply had no idea how to play basketball.

After that, Floyd learned quickly that his first impression had been wrong. Jamil was serious and responsible, but not always, and he certainly wasn't boring. And most surprisingly of all, he never seemed particularly put-off by Floyd's behavior. Floyd was pretty sure that he liked him, even.

It was for that very reason that Floyd was confident he was the only one in the whole school who could carry out this task. After all, as a general rule, Jamil Viper didn’t really like people.

Floyd spent a majority of his weekend working, so it wasn’t until Monday that he was able to officially begin the operation. He and Jamil had a number of shared classes, their first one being second period antidotal potions with Crewel. Fortunately, it was also one of the few classes Jamil didn't share with Kalim, so Floyd would be able to demand his full attention.

“Morning, Sea Snakey~” Floyd greeted brightly, snagging the seat beside him. Jamil was always early to class, and always sat in the same place in the back, while Floyd was normally late and ended up stuck up in the front by the professor. They didn't usually talk during their shared classes, except on the rare occasions they were paired up for group work. They didn't talk at all outside of basketball club, really. That was gonna have to change.

Jamil peered up at him through his hair. “Oh, hey, Floyd,” he greeted coolly. “You're here earlier than usual.”

“Aha, you noticed something like that?” Floyd asked, resting his chin on his hand with a grin. “Didn't realize you paid so much attention to me.”

Jamil didn't humor that with a response. Just as well, because at that moment Crewel entered the room, waving his switch and demanding that they all sit down and stop yapping like puppies or whatever.

Floyd was decidedly not in the mood to pay attention to Crewel’s lecture, and instead opted to spend the class period attempting to spin his pen in his fingers. He failed many, many times, and every few seconds the pen would clatter loudly across the desk. Luckily, he was sitting far enough in the back to avoid Crewel’s notice, so he kept at the task uninhibited.

On one attempt, the pen went flying over to Jamil’s side of the table, coming to a rest on top of his notebook. Jamil’s own pen stilled in his grip. “Floyd…” he muttered under his breath, before letting out a deep sigh. “You're doing it wrong.”

Floyd blinked slowly. “Eh?”

“You have to use your middle finger to push it around your thumb, and then catch it when it comes back around,” Jamil explained, before demonstrating perfectly. “Like that.”

Floyd stared at him, open-mouthed. “Damn, Sea Snake, is there anything you're bad at?” he asked.

“Nothing comes to mind,” Jamil replied, the corner of his mouth turning up. “You try.”

Floyd did, several more times, heeding Jamil’s quiet advice each time he failed. And then, finally…

“I did it!” Floyd shouted as he caught the pen between his index finger and thumb, so excited he momentarily forgot where they were.

“Mr. Leech,” Crewel snapped, sending the classroom into a tense hush. “Would you care to enlighten us as to what it is you find so much more interesting than my lesson?”

As usual, Floyd’s thoughts rose to the surface completely unfiltered. “Uh, literally everything,” he said.

He expected an elbow to the ribs or a hissed reprimand, but once again, Jamil surprised him. He coughed into his hand, and it sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

“After school detention,” Crewel said simply, turning back to the board. “You too, Viper.”

“Wait, what?” Jamil said in alarm. “Professor Crewel, I can't—”

He was cut off by the bell, and the students began packing up their things and heading out for their next class. Jamil snatched up his notebook and quickly made his way down to the front of the room, Floyd close behind him.

“Professor, please, Kalim has a history exam tomorrow that he hasn't even started studying for, and I have to make sure—”

“Quit your barking,” Crewel interrupted firmly. “You should have considered that before disrupting my class. I'm sure Mr. Asim is very capable of studying for his exam on his own.”

Floyd watched as Jamil nearly turned purple in his attempt to hold back all of the things he wanted to say. “...Yes sir,” he eventually conceded.

“My bad, Sea Snake,” Floyd said sheepishly as they made their way out of the classroom together. “Didn't mean to get ya into trouble.”

That was a lie. Actually, his plan had been to bother Jamil so much by throwing his pen around that he eventually yelled at him and caused a scene, thus earning the joint detention. He'd forgotten that Jamil never got mad at him, really. He must've been confusing him for Riddle.

Jamil just waved him off. “Wasn't your fault,” he said calmly. “I would've taken any excuse to do something besides listen to Crewel drone on about stuff I learned when I was eight.”

“Ah, right, guess you'd need to know all about antidotes and stuff,” Floyd mused. “Anyone try to poison Sea Otter lately?”

Jamil grimaced. “Don't jinx it,” he said tiredly. He slowed as they approached the entrance to the courtyard. “Well, I have flight next. I’ll make sure your boss doesn't fall on his ass, don't worry.”

“Not my boss,” Floyd corrected. “And just let him fall, it'll be funnier.”

Jamil grinned. “See you in detention,” he said with a wave over his shoulder.

“I’ll be there!” Floyd chirped back. He whistled as he made his way to his next class, pulling his pen out of his pocket and twirling it in his fingers with practiced ease.

Piece of cake.

—

“You would think students of exceptional talent summoned to an elite magic school would be able to come up with something better than—” Jamil paused, squinting at the graffiti in front of him. “Ass-ton Vargas.”

Floyd chuckled, leaning back against the stall and not putting any particular effort into their task. Crewel had confiscated their pens, so rather than being able to magic away the vandalism in the bathroom stalls, they were expected to utilize the sponge and bucket of soapy water they'd been provided. It was far from fun, but Floyd had certainly had worse detentions. “Dunno, some of these drawings are pretty great,” he said, eyeing one in particular of a giant cat petting a very small Professor Trein.

Jamil was quiet for a moment, then made a small sound that sounded somewhere between a laugh and a squeak. He cleared his throat. “You might like this one,” he said casually. Floyd peaked around into Jamil’s adjacent stall, his eyes finding the phrase Jamil was gesturing to near the top. Floyd Leech is packing 22 cms.

“Huh,” Floyd said.

Jamil raised an amused eyebrow at him. “Is that true?” he asked.

“Nah, not even close,” Floyd said mildly, moving back into his own stall. “I’m 191.”

Jamil’s loud burst of laughter echoed through the empty bathroom, and Floyd grinned proudly. They fell into a comfortable silence, which was broken only by the occasional splashing from Jamil's bucket.

“Dammit, this is gonna take forever,” Jamil muttered. “I don't know how I’m going to have time to help Kalim study, and make dinner, and his lunch for tomorrow…”

Floyd paused what he was doing (which was not, in fact, cleaning the walls, but instead drawing on his own arm with his pen) and peaked into Jamil’s stall once again. “There's a way easier way, y’know,” he said, pushing himself in next to Jamil. “You got a whiteboard marker?”

“Uh… I think so,” Jamil said, rifling through his bag. He held up a blue one. “Here.”

Floyd uncapped the marker, scribbling over an explicit art piece that was displayed on the door. Then, he used his uniform sleeve to wipe it off, clearing away both the erasable marker and the permanent marker beneath it. “Ta daa~”

Jamil looked genuinely impressed. “How did you know that?” he asked, touching the newly clean surface.

“Not my first detention,” Floyd said brightly. He sought out an area that was particularly saturated with graffiti art, and drew FL + SS over it, framing it with a heart. “What do ya think?”

“Cute,” Jamil said dryly, before he paused, his eyebrows coming together in confusion. “…Did you just write that with your left hand?”

“Mm-hmm,” Floyd confirmed, waving his left hand in front of Jamil’s face. “This is my dominant one.”

Jamil looked taken aback by this information. “Then why do you shoot baskets with your right hand?” he asked.

“Because… that's how you taught me?”

Jamil blinked. “You remember that?”

“Uh, duh. I didn't even know what basketball was back then, I just joined the club because I thought the uniforms looked cool,” Floyd said with a shrug. “I only stuck around after that first practice because I thought you were awesome, and I wanted to learn to play even better than you.”

It occurred to Floyd, as he watched Jamil try to subtly hide his flustered expression behind his hair, that he wasn't even trying. He wasn't pulling any moves or tricks, he was just being honest. If he could already make Jamil blush just by talking to him like he normally would, maybe he wouldn't even need two full weeks.

“I’m nothing special,” Jamil muttered. “I just practiced a lot with my friend in middle school.”

“That's my Sea Snake, always so humble~” Floyd said with a teasing grin. “Who knows, maybe if I start playing with my left hand I can finally beat you.”

Jamil glanced sideways at him, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk. “Don't hold your breath,” he said. Floyd’s grin widened, and they stayed like that for a few beats, before Jamil reached back into his bag and pulled out another whiteboard marker. “Get to work, I don't want to be here all night.”

Floyd dutifully began cleaning his stall, and they fell back into silence as they worked. After he finished wiping away the last of the graffiti, he hauled himself onto the toilet and peaked over the stall. “Y’know,” he said casually. “If you want, I can come back with you to Scarabia and help Sea Otter study while you do your other stuff.”

Jamil paused, looking up at him slowly with an expression not quite as gracious as Floyd was expecting. “Since when do you study?” he asked.

“Ahaha, I don't,” Floyd clarified. “But my memory's real good. I remember all that stuff Trein was rambling about.”

Jamil’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Floyd knew, then, that he'd been overconfident. Jamil didn't trust him, not completely. Of course he didn't. “What do you want?” Jamil asked simply.

“Hm?”

“None of you Octavinelle guys offer to do anything without an ulterior motive,” Jamil said, crossing his arms over his chest. “So what do you want?”

Floyd groaned. “Seriously?” he said irritably. “You think I’m like Azul and Jade?”

“No, I don't,” Jamil said unhesitantly. “But I think if Azul put you up to something you thought sounded fun, you would do it.”

Floyd was surprised by his own resentment of the accusation, considering Jamil was almost entirely correct. He placed a hand on his chest sincerely. “No one put me up to anything,” he lied. “I just wanted to hang out more.”

Jamil’s eyes softened a bit, and he leaned back against the stall, regarding Floyd carefully. “…That’s okay,” he finally answered. “I can take care of it, I’m used to this kind of thing. Maybe next time.”

Not a big deal. Obviously it would take more than one day to break through Jamil’s heavily guarded walls. If anything, the little bit of pushback only made Floyd want it more. Until now, this whole thing had been more about proving Jade wrong than having fun, but maybe he would have a challenge to enjoy after all. He should have expected as much where Jamil was involved.

“Next time,” Floyd repeated, grin splitting his face like a knife.

Chapter Text

Basketball club was, undoubtedly, the highlight of Jamil’s time at Night Raven College.

He’d always loved basketball, ever since he was a kid, when he would sneak off to the Asim’s professional-grade outdoor court at every possible opportunity. But it was more than that; the club was his singular reprieve within the walls of the school. It was the one thing he had that involved Kalim in no way, the one thing that was his.

In everything else, even if Kalim wasn’t physically there, Jamil still had to take him into consideration. In class, he had to make sure to keep his grades perfectly mediocre so as not to surpass him. At the dorm, he had to uphold a careful balance of performing his tasks as vice housewarden and knowing which ones to defer to Kalim, lest he give the impression of undermining him. He’d been trying to ease up on those habits since the… incident over winter break, but it wasn’t so easy to pull himself out of the routine that had been ingrained in him since he was old enough to understand why.

In the basketball club, however, he had never had to worry about any of that. It had always been a place for him to let loose in the way he’d always so desperately wanted. It was freeing. It was fun.

Admittedly, a significant part of that was Floyd. Kalim or no, it wasn’t really in Jamil’s nature to show off or be competitive, but Floyd always managed to find a way to pull it out of him. Whether it was challenging him to free-throw competitions or talking him into some ridiculous shenanigans that had nothing to do with basketball at all, Floyd seemed to consistently know just how to trigger the side of Jamil that he’d so carefully buried.

Maybe that was why Jamil found himself so tolerant of him, in spite of his… unique personality. Surely it was the common opinion that Floyd’s tendency to do exactly what he wanted— and nothing but— was an inconvenience, or even scary. But Jamil couldn’t quite bring himself to see it that way. On the contrary, he envied it.

If only the company Floyd so closely kept wasn’t so wildly untrustworthy, maybe Jamil could have considered him someone he could let his guard down around. Maybe they could have been friends.

“What's Sea Snakey up to tonight? Anything fun?” Floyd asked as he haphazardly shoved his jersey into his locker, slamming it shut just before its contents came falling back out.

Jamil glanced up at him from where he was tying his shoe. “Uh, no,” he said. “I’ll probably just make dinner and go to sleep.”

Floyd sighed loudly, pulling his uniform shirt on but leaving it unbuttoned as he took an unreasonably close seat beside Jamil on the bench. “So lame. It's Friday night, y’know, you gotta live a little,” he said. “Come to Mostro Lounge. I’m workin’, so I can whip you up something good.”

Jamil grimaced. He had never in his life stepped foot into Mostro Lounge willingly, and he had no desire to change that anytime soon. The one singular time that Kalim had insisted on dragging him along, Azul had spent nearly two hours trying to sell him on some sort of “business opportunity,” and Jamil didn’t think he had it in him to endure that again. “I’ll pass,” he said bluntly. “Besides, I can’t just leave Kalim to fend for himself.”

“So bring Sea Otter,” Floyd offered with a shrug.

Just like that, Jamil felt his hair-trigger defenses raise. He couldn't quite explain it, but something was… off. He’d been pushing it to the back of his mind, seeing as he tended toward paranoia and he didn’t seriously consider Floyd a threat, but he couldn't ignore it if Kalim became involved. The unspoken barrier between himself and Floyd Leech would always be that Floyd worked for (with? near?) someone who would do anything in the pursuit of money, and Jamil worked for someone who had a lot of it.

“No,” Jamil said, perhaps too curtly. Floyd leaned out of Jamil’s space, and his expression shuttered off, leaving his face blank and unreadable. Jamil sighed. “Thanks. But I don't think so.”

Floyd was quiet for several beats, simply staring at Jamil with that same closed-off expression. Then, he leaned forward again, an intensity behind his eyes that made Jamil feel cornered. “Do you think I’m a bad guy, Sea Snake?” he asked.

Jamil just held his gaze, too thrown off by the question to respond. They were interrupted before he could come up with an answer.

“I’ll come,” Ace said from the locker block across from theirs, pulling his jacket on as he approached them. “I’ve been avoiding that place since the whole lame ass contract thing, but I remember the food being pretty good. I’m getting bored of the grub in the cafeteria.”

Floyd leaned back on his hands and glanced up at Ace flatly. “Huh? Did someone invite you or something?” he drawled.

Ace spluttered. “It’s a public restaurant! I don't need your permission,” he said defensively.

Floyd sighed, standing up and buttoning his shirt. “Do what you want,” he said, throwing his jacket over his shoulder. “See ya.”

Jamil watched him go, feeling perplexed by the conversation. Mood swings from Floyd were hardly anything to raise an alarm about, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else going on.

“Did that seem… weird?” Jamil asked once he and Ace were left alone in the locker room.

Ace raised an eyebrow. “What, Floyd-senpai flirting with you?” he asked dryly. “Uh-huh, sure, super weird.”

Jamil whipped around to face him, unable to hide the shock from his expression. “What?”

“Ugh, never mind. Leave me out of it,” Ace said, tossing a wave over his shoulder. “See you next practice.”

Jamil remained sitting there alone, his mind spinning in a hundred different directions, until the automatic lights eventually shut off on him.

—

“Thanks, Jamil!” Kalim said brightly as Jamil set his plate of dinner down in front of him. Jamil took a seat on the pillow across from Kalim, tapping his fingers on the table distractedly. Kalim raised an eyebrow. “Uh, where's your food?”

Jamil paused, sitting up straighter. “I’m not that hungry. I’ll eat later,” he said. His gaze drifted away as he battled with himself internally, before finally coming to a decision. He cleared his throat. “Actually, I think I’m going to head out for a bit. Will you be okay here for an hour or two?”

Kalim looked surprised; which he should, really, considering Jamil generally never left his side unless he absolutely had to. “Oh! Sure!” he agreed easily. “…Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine. I need to go talk to one of my classmates about a project we’re working on,” Jamil assured. Lying to Kalim was as easy as breathing. “Don't leave the dorm, please. And stay the hell away from the carpets.”

Kalim grinned, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Okay, okay! I’ll behave,” he promised. “Have fun!”

Jamil grimaced. “Yeah. I’ll try,” he muttered.

He left the lounge and headed toward the mirror, but took pause as he passed the hallway leading to his dorm room. Should he switch out his dorm clothes for something… nicer? Mostro definitely had the atmosphere of a classy hotel lounge, but in the end, it was still just a student-run restaurant in a high school dorm. The Octavinelle students generally just wore their dorm uniforms; that hardly helped his dilemma, however, considering that unlike Scarabia’s actual loungewear, theirs consisted of full three-piece suits and cummerbunds. What a ridiculous school.

Jamil groaned inwardly and steered himself toward his dorm room. He quickly pulled on a black button-up shirt and jeans, scrutinizing himself in the mirror unenthusiastically. After a moment of consideration, he reached up and pulled out his hair tie, letting his long hair spill freely over his back and shoulders. Good enough. He headed resolutely to the mirror chamber before he could change his mind.

Mostro Lounge had the same low-lit, skeezy atmosphere that Jamil remembered. It was also packed. If he weren't so morally opposed to Azul and the way he operated, he might have been impressed that a student had managed to put together such a thriving, legitimate business on school grounds.

Speak of the devil, etcetera etcetera.

“Jamil-san!” Azul said, looking entirely too pleased as Jamil approached the host stand. “What a pleasant surprise! Have you come for dinner? Or perhaps there was something you wished to see me about?”

“The former,” Jamil said flatly. He glanced around somewhat awkwardly. “…Is Floyd around?”

Azul blinked slowly. “Floyd?” he asked, as if he was unable to comprehend the question.

“He’s in the back. I would be happy to let him know you’re here,” Jade said, sliding into Jamil’s field of vision out of seemingly nowhere. The smile on his face set off every warning alarm in Jamil’s system. He really should have just stayed in Scarabia. “In the meantime, feel free to sit in the waiting area until we have a table available. Or you can wait at the bar, if you’d prefer.”

“Hold on—” Azul said, grimacing as he tried to multitask the throng of students waiting to be seated and Jamil’s waning attention. “Just… yes, as Jade said, please make yourself comfortable. I’ll be sure to catch up with you once I find a moment.”

Jamil very much wanted to assure him that there was no need, considering they had nothing at all to catch up on, but he bit his tongue. His resistance always seemed to just encourage Azul more.

He decided to follow Jade into the seating area and toward the bar, but one of the patrons they passed caught his attention on the way. He approached the mostly-empty table. “You came here by yourself?” he asked dryly.

Ace looked up at him, and then glanced around their vicinity. “Uh, so did you?” he pointed out. He sighed, checking his phone dully. “Deuce was supposed to meet me here, but he got held up at his track meet or whatever.”

Jamil hummed, sliding into the booth across from Ace. “Did they win?” he asked for the sake of conversation.

“‘Course they won,” Ace said proudly. He seemed to catch himself, and cleared his throat. “Good thing for Deucey that he has Jack to carry his dead weight.”

Jamil just nodded, giving up on feigning interest as he glanced over Ace’s shoulder toward the kitchens. “Have you ordered yet?” he asked distractedly.

“Nah, I just sat down. It's crazy busy,” Ace said. “Guessed they're understaffed now that they don't have forced contractual labor.”

They sat in idle conversation for the next several moments, until they were interrupted, suddenly, by someone running at them so quickly that he had to skid to a stop so that he didn't pass the table. Jamil blinked, and looked up into a wide, pointed grin.

“Seeeea Snakey!” Floyd sang, with the enthusiasm of a puppy dog. “You came!”

“I’m here too,” Ace deadpanned.

Floyd laughed brightly; Jamil was relieved that he seemed to no longer be in the mood he'd left with after basketball practice, at least. “Aww, don't be jealous, little crab,” he said, mussing Ace’s hair roughly. Ace scowled and shoved him away, and Floyd turned back to Jamil, leaning his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand. “Look at Sea Snake, all prettied up~. Don't tell me you did all that for me?”

Jamil thought back to what Ace had said earlier, and grimaced, flinching away from Floyd’s too-close smirk. “Did what?” he grit out, his face burning humiliatingly. He was wearing jeans. “Whatever, can we order?”

Floyd stood up straight, saluting him theatrically. “Sure thing,” he said. “What can I do ya for?”

They finished ordering (Jamil requesting anything spicy, and Ace in turn requesting anything not spicy) and Floyd took off back toward the kitchens, leaving them alone once more. Jamil sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“…Sorry,” he told Ace, because he felt the need to, for some reason. Despite all the time that he, Ace, and Floyd had spent together over the last year, he couldn't help but feel like the dynamic had abruptly shifted somehow. “I don't know why he's being like this.”

Ace paused from where he was typing away on his phone, slowly looking up to meet Jamil’s eyes with a bewildered expression. “Dude,” he said. “It’s always like this.”

Five words were, apparently, all it took to send Jamil into psychological warfare for the entirety of time it took for their food to arrive.

Floyd came back balancing two plates on one arm and two drinks in the other. He dumped them on the table, before squeezing into the booth beside Jamil. Jamil made an effort to put as much space between them as possible.

Ace’s plate consisted of steak and fries, while Jamil’s appeared to be fried shrimp in some kind of red sauce. “The menu doesn't really have anything spicy on it, so I kinda made it up,” Floyd explained with a shrug. “Should definitely be spicy, at least.”

Jamil wasn't particularly enthused by the preface, but he brought a cautious bite to his mouth regardless. It was spicy, absurdly so, but hardly too much for him to handle. It was… good, actually. Very good. He'd gotten so bored of his own cooking over time that he'd almost forgotten that food could be enjoyable.

“Huh,” he muttered. “It's not bad. I didn't even know you could cook.”

Floyd beamed as if Jamil had told him he should be a head chef for a living. “Eh, it's easy. I just throw stuff that tastes good together and it usually comes out okay,” he said. “I hate it, though. Especially when Azul makes me do it.”

“I understand,” Jamil muttered.

“Uh, Floyd-senpai, my steak is crazy rare,” Ace said, eyeing his food with disgust as he cut into it. “Did you even cook this?”

Floyd groaned exasperatedly. “That's how it's good, Crabby,” he said with an eye roll. He leaned forward, his eyes glinting. “Just be a big boy and eat it, okay?”

Ace glowered at him, but conceded, taking a hesitant bite. He chewed on it for a moment, before averting his gaze. “It's pretty good,” he mumbled

“Yaaay, Crabby and Sea Snake like my food!” Floyd said cheerfully.

Jamil hesitated, debating whether to ask the question in his mind. His curiosity won over in the end. “Is it weird for you to cook seafood?” he asked bluntly. “You know… considering.”

Floyd stared at him blankly for several long moments, before bursting into laughter; not his usual high-pitched, threatening cackle, but one of unfiltered amusement. It was a nice sound. “Ahhh, Sea Snake, you’re seriously never boring,” he said, leaning his cheek against his hand. His grin sharpened. “What do you think I ate in the ocean? I’m a predator. Don’t forget that~”

Jamil held his gaze unflinchingly. “I haven’t,” he assured, taking another bite.

The three of them fell into easy conversation, and Jamil slowly felt himself relax as time went on. Ace was probably right. It was always like this, and it didn’t mean anything. He didn’t even know where the sudden hyper-awareness had come from. If Floyd was especially attentive toward him, it was probably just because Jamil was more patient with him than most people. The sudden interest in spending time together outside of club practice was new, but wasn’t that the normal progression of… friendship? Was that what this was? Hell if Jamil knew anything about that.

That would be just like him, to overreact to something as simple as someone trying to be his friend.

As if summoned by Jamil’s thoughts of possibly entertaining friendly relations, Azul chose that moment to approach their table. He shot Floyd an unsubtle look, before directing his full attention to Jamil. “Things are finally beginning to slow down, so I thought I’d check in,” he greeted with a well-rehearsed smile. “Are you satisfied with your service this evening?”

“‘Course they are, I’m takin’ care of them,” Floyd drawled before Jamil or Ace could even respond.

“You’re supposed to be taking care of the other customers as well,” Azul said agitatedly. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re still on the clock.”

“I’ll get back to it when I feel like it,” Floyd said with a shrug.

Jamil looked on in confusion as he felt an unusual sense of tension crackle between the two of them. That was definitely strange. Azul and the twins had a weird relationship, and Jamil was well aware that they had made a sport out of antagonizing each other, but this felt different somehow. Like there was something else underlying their words, something that Jamil couldn’t hear.

“Well, in any case,” Azul said dismissively, clearly giving up on the losing battle of trying to convince Floyd to do something he didn’t want to. “My apologies, Jamil-san, were I so nonchalant about my responsibilities as Floyd, I too would have been happy to take advantage of this rare opportunity to engage you in conversation. As it so happens, we are very busy tonight.”

“It’s fine,” Jamil said, perhaps a bit too quickly. “I need to get going soon anyway. I really just stopped by because Floyd invited me.”

Azul’s smile tightened. “Is that so,” he said. He and Floyd exchanged another tense look, but Azul, of course, didn’t lose his carefully-practiced composure. He cleared his throat. “Regardless, I do hope to see you back here again soon. And, seeing as someone on our staff appears to have gone off-menu with your order, it will of course be free of charge.”

Ace chose that moment to remind everyone that he was, in fact, at the table as well. “Mine too, right?” he asked wishfully.

Azul eyed his plate, and then fixed Ace with an unamused look. “That is a Wagyu porterhouse, the most expensive item on our menu,” he said flatly. “This isn’t a charity.”

With that, Azul made his leave, leaving Ace gaping in his wake. “W-wait, I didn’t even order it!” Ace called to his back. He turned a heated glare toward Floyd, who was giggling at his expense. “Floyd-senpai, you’re gonna treat me, right?”

“Huh? Why should I do that?” Floyd said dully.

“Uh, because you brought me this weird raw meat that’s apparently a premium item!” Ace said, visibly distressed.

Floyd hummed, seemingly considering it. “Alright, fine,” he eventually agreed. “But only if you can beat me in one-on-one at practice tomorrow.”

Ace slumped against the table miserably. “That’s impossible,” he muttered.

“Is it?” Floyd drawled. “Guess you gotta find someone better to sub in for you then.”

Ace sat up at once, turning to Jamil earnestly. “Jamil-senpai,” he said, eyes pleading. “Come on, help me out, please.”

Jamil side-eyed Floyd, who was watching him with an expectant smile. All three of them were well aware that Floyd had never once beaten Jamil in one-on-one. Jamil let out a long breath through his nose. “Fine,” he conceded.

“Thank seven. I owe you one, seriously,” Ace said in relief. He glanced at his phone. “Oh, the track club is back, I gotta go meet Deuce at the gate. See you guys. For the record, I’m never coming here ever again.”

“No one invited you in the first place!” Floyd chirped.

“See you, Ace,” Jamil offered with a wave. He watched the younger boy leave, his hyper-awareness coming back in full force as he and Floyd were left alone.

Floyd placed his arm on the table and laid his head on it, looking up at Jamil in a way that made him stupidly self-conscious. Jamil shifted awkwardly in his seat. “That was nice of you to do for Crabby~” Floyd said. “Sea Snakey is a good upperclassman.”

Jamil sighed. “You would’ve paid for him anyway,” he pointed out.

“Hm? You think so?”

“Yeah,” Jamil said confidently. He worked up the courage to meet Floyd’s eyes. “Because… I don’t think you’re a bad guy.”

Floyd’s smile faltered. It was subtle, and only for a brief moment, but Jamil noticed. He sat up and shrugged. “Whatever you say,” he said. He yawned and stretched. “Guess I better get back to the kitchen. I don't wanna have to deal with one of Azul’s annoying lectures later.”

Jamil glanced at the time on his phone. “I should be getting back to Kalim, too,” he said. He paused, feeling like he should say more but not really sure what. “…Thanks for dinner.”

“Sure thing!” Floyd chirped, his good mood back in full force. “You just gotta return the favor next time.”

An unsettling feeling washed over him at the idea of next time. As if this, whatever this even was, was just how things were now, suddenly and unconditionally. “Maybe,” was all he could offer.

Floyd slid out of the booth, and offered his hand to help Jamil out. Jamil took it, following close behind him. Floyd took his time before letting go. “G’night, Sea Snake,” he said, his voice unusually soft. With that, he headed off with a wave over his shoulder, leaving Jamil standing alone in the middle of the crowded restaurant.

Jamil watched his retreating back until it disappeared behind the swing of the kitchen door.

Chapter Text

Floyd let out a deep sigh as he stood outside of Azul’s office, trying his best to work up the motivation to open the door. He didn’t know, exactly, what was awaiting him on the other side, but he was positive that it wasn’t anything fun.

Azul had requested that Floyd come see him after class, without Jade, which meant definitively that Floyd was in trouble. And seeing as Floyd was fairly certain that he hadn’t actually done anything wrong recently, there was really only one thing this could be about. He was really, really not looking forward to dealing with that. He should just go back to his room and avoid Azul for as long as possible. Or better yet, make Jade handle it.

Heaving another sigh for good measure, he pushed open the door, throwing himself onto one of the couches in front of Azul’s desk unenthusiastically. “Sup?” he greeted.

Azul set down his pen and folded his hands in front of him. “Hello, Floyd,” he said, his expression far more amiable than Floyd had expected. “There’s something I’d like to speak with you about.”

“Obviously,” Floyd said with a yawn, kicking his feet up. “I’m listenin’.”

Azul stood and moved toward the couch across from Floyd, tapping Floyd’s inclined feet pointedly with his pen on the way. Floyd rolled his eyes and removed them from the tea table. “It has come to my attention, recently,” he started once he sat down, still entirely too friendly. “That you have become acquainted with Jamil Viper.”

Aaand there it was. It wasn’t fair, really; Floyd had agreed to put the moves on Jamil to prove a point, and as far as he was concerned, it had nothing to do with Azul at all. That part of it was Jade’s problem. He knew, logically, that the entire idea was to get in the middle of whatever nonexistent thing Azul thought he had going on with Jamil, but that wasn’t his goal, and he didn’t want anything to do with it. Yet here he was, having to answer for it anyway. So annoying.

“That’s nothing new, though? I’ve been in the basketball club with him this whole time,” Floyd said simply, opting to feign ignorance.

Azul hummed. “That’s true, but the other night in the lounge, your relationship seemed more… significant than my impression of it,” he said. “I wasn’t aware you were actually close.”

“That a problem?” Floyd asked, unable to mask his annoyance.

Azul put his hands up placatingly. “Not at all. I have no intention of reprimanding you, calm down,” he said. His face suddenly broke into that sly smile of his, and Floyd began to feel dread for an entirely new reason. “Quite the opposite, really.”

Floyd raised an eyebrow. “Okay…” he said cautiously. He wasn't sure he liked where this was going.

Azul smiled at him warmly, crossing his legs and folding his hands over his knee. “I thought we might use this to our advantage,” he suggested. “I’m sure you're aware of my intentions to indoctrinate Jamil into our business practices. I believe he could be quite the asset to us.”

“I know you have intentions with him, yeah.”

“I only thought your acquaintanceship might warm him up to the idea,” Azul continued, ignoring Floyd completely. “Or, better yet, that you might just so happen to collect intel that could help sway his loyalty in our favor.”

“Nope,” Floyd said without hesitation. There was no way in hell he was about to be some triple agent caught up in whatever weird game everyone was playing. Not for the first time, he wished Azul and Jade could just be straightforward for once instead of turning everything into some sort of Machiavellian scheme. It was fun to watch, a lot of the time, but Floyd wasn't cut out for it. “Sorry, not happenin’. If you want that, you be friends with him.”

Azul’s eye twitched ever so slightly. “I’m trying.”

Floyd groaned. He was starting to think there might actually be something genuine behind Jade’s motives, because seriously, the kindest thing to do at this point would be to beg Azul to just give up. Not that Jade was any better. Between the two of them, they’d thoroughly convinced Floyd that having a crush was the dumbest and most embarrassing thing in the world. He sincerely hoped he’d never have to experience it.

That kind of stuff didn’t interest him, anyway. The idea of dedicating so much energy to one person, of having to be considerate of their wants and needs all the time, just seemed boring and annoying. He’d never understand why his brother and Azul were tying themselves into knots over it.

“Look, what’s goin’ on with me and Sea Snake has got nothing to do with you,” he lied, because it seemed like the right thing to say. It was vague enough to imply nothing, but suggestive enough that Azul would definitely overthink it. Jade would be proud. “Can I go now?”

Azul pursed his lips, but conceded, his visage of friendliness fading as he sat back against the couch. “I’m not sure the hostility is entirely called for, but fine,” he said. He paused, tapping his fingers against his knee. “Before you do, I have one more question.”

“Shoot.”

Azul shifted in his seat, avoiding Floyd’s eyes pointedly. “…How did you do it?” he asked, expression pinched as if it physically pained him to ask.

Floyd considered asking Azul to elaborate, if only to see him squirm more, but he was well aware of what he was asking. “Maybe he just likes me. It’s not that weird,” Floyd said.

“It is,” Azul deadpanned. Floyd laughed, delighted by the response. Azul’s capacity for both artful circumvention and brutal honesty was one of the things he loved most about him.

“Ah, man, I dunno,” Floyd said with a shrug. Honestly, he had no idea how he and Jamil worked in any sense. But they always had, from the very beginning. “I just get him, I guess?”

Azul exhaled very slowly through his nose. “You get him,” he repeated dully. “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve mastered a skill that I couldn’t, despite my best efforts.”

“Ew. Don’t get all modest all of a sudden, it's creeping me out,” Floyd said. He yawned and stretched. “I’m goin’ to bed. Try not to sit in here and feel sorry for yourself all night.”

Azul rolled his eyes. “I’ll hardly lose any sleep,” he reassured.

Floyd made his way to his dorm room, throwing himself onto his bed with a groan immediately upon entering. He heard Jade chuckle at him from his side of the room. “Long day?”

“No thanks to you,” Floyd said, lifting his head up to shoot his brother a glare. “Azul is already getting all twitchy and annoying over the whole Sea Snake thing. Your plan pretty much sucks, by the way, I’m pretty sure it's just makin’ him want him more.”

Jade just hummed, his expression inexplicably pleased as he spun in his desk chair. “You think so?” he asked. “What a shame. Well, if you feel inconvenienced, you’re certainly free to end the charade whenever you wish.”

Floyd scrunched up his nose. It was true that he hated Azul breathing down his neck, but… dropping the whole thing would just bug him more, for some reason. He let his face fall into his pillow, groaning again. “Nah,” he muttered. “I still gotta prove you wrong or whatever.”

“Ah, that’s right,” Jade said mildly. “How are things going with Jamil, then?”

Floyd took a moment to consider that, flopping over onto his back. “Uhh, good, I think,” he said. “He seems to like hangin’ out with me, which is cool. And he gets all flustered sometimes when I say stuff to him. It's pretty funny. He acts like he's all laid-back and stuff, but it's actually really easy to get a reaction out of him. Makes me wonder if he's not used to people making passes at him? I’d think he'd get that kind of stuff all the time, since he's so pretty.”

Jade crossed his arms and regarded Floyd with apt attention. “I see,” he said.

“It’s actually a good thing that it's Sea Snake who Azul likes. It would be way more annoying if it was someone else,” Floyd mused. “Like, say it was Goldfishie or something, I would have to act totally different to get him to like me. But with Sea Snake, it doesn't really seem like he cares that I’m like this. Even if I piss him off sometimes he just goes with it. Like you and Azul. I can just be me with him, y’know? Makes it easy.”

The expression on Jade’s face was terribly amused, as if he'd been told a joke that Floyd wasn't in on. “That is a relief,” he agreed.

Floyd turned to him and raised an eyebrow. He was very well attuned to situations where his brother wasn't saying everything he was thinking. “What are you all giddy about?” he pressed.

Jade put his hands up placatingly. “Nothing at all,” he said. “As for Azul, I will be sure to bear the brunt of his displeasure from now on. No need to worry.”

“Meaning you wanna be his shoulder to cry on,” Floyd scoffed.

“Such accusations,” Jade said, pressing a hand to his chest in exaggerated offense. “My only wish is to bring contentment to those most important to me. There’s no harm in us all getting what we want in the process.”

By that Jade obviously meant that he would get Azul’s attention back, and Azul would get whatever notion Jade had of what was best for him, but as for Floyd… “I’m already content, though?” he ruminated. “Pretty sure I’ve already got everything I want.”

Jade chuckled. “Interestingly enough, you said the same thing when the three of us were debating leaving the Coral Sea to attend Night Raven College,” he pointed out. “And now, two years later, you’ve taken to living on the surface more enthusiastically than any of us, no?”

Floyd considered that. It was true, he had initially been the most resistant to leaving home, and had given in only out of unwillingness to be left behind. Now, though, he could probably be fairly easily convinced to stay on land forever. “I guess?” he said. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Just something to consider,” Jade said off-handedly, turning his chair around to face his desk once more. “Sometimes you don’t know you’re looking for something until you find it.”

—

“Hey. Floyd.”

Floyd cracked his eyes open, squinting against the silhouette that had suddenly appeared above him in the sunlight. He was taking advantage of his free period to take a nap in the courtyard; or he had been, anyway, until he was rudely interrupted.

But who better to be interrupted by.

“Sea Snakey!” he greeted brightly, sitting up with a stretch and a yawn. “What a coincidence, I was just dreamin’ about you~”

Jamil visibly cringed. “Please don’t say anything like that ever again,” he deadpanned. He reached into his bag, before pulling out a food container and thrusting it at Floyd unceremoniously. “Here.”

Floyd took it, staring down at the container in confusion as a pleasant smell reached his nose. “What’s this?”

“I’m returning the favor,” Jamil explained. “It’s lamb kofta. It’ll taste better if you heat it up first.”

As if he hadn't heard him at all, Floyd popped the top off of the container and treated himself to a bite of one of the kabobs gleefully. “As expected, it’s delicious~” he said. “Bet you worked extra hard on it since it was for me.”

“Hardly. It’s just the same batch I made for myself and Kalim,” Jamil said, rolling his eyes. He glanced up at the clocktower. “Speaking of which, I have to go find Kalim and bring him his lunch. I’ll see you—”

“Hold up,” Floyd said, quickly digging his phone out of his pocket. He wasn’t one to let an opportunity go to waste. “You gotta give me your number so I can let ya know when I’m done with this and bring the lunchbox back to you.”

Jamil raised an unamused eyebrow. “Floyd, we’ll see each other at practice tomorrow,” he pointed out. “Just bring it to me then.”

Floyd ignored him, holding his phone toward him persistently. Jamil hesitated, before eventually giving in with a sigh, taking the phone and inputting his information disgruntledly.

“Yay!” Floyd chirped as Jamil thrust his phone back in his hands. “I got a cute guy's number~”

“Ugh, cut it out,” Jamil groaned. “Don't overdo it or I’ll block you.”

Floyd grinned as he changed the contact name and returned his phone to his pocket. “Relaaax, I’ll only text you for really important things, promise,” he assured.

Jamil sighed. “Somehow I doubt that,” he muttered. “I’m leaving now.”

Floyd spent the rest of the afternoon in an exceptionally good mood, giddily glancing at his new contact every so often. His restraint lasted him until classes let out, after which he dropped himself into an empty booth in the back of Mostro Lounge and pulled out his phone.

He sat back against the booth in delight, waiting impatiently for the bubbles that indicated that Jamil was typing his reply to pop up. His peace was quickly interrupted, however, by a sudden agitated presence approaching his table.

“Floyd-kun!” Ruggie said, his face scrunched up in frustration. “I need your help. Azul totally screwed me on my last paycheck. He said I only worked two days last weekend, but I definitely worked all three!”

Floyd stared at him blankly. “Uh, why are you tellin’ me this?” he asked, his mood taking an immediate dive. “Go take it up with Azul.”

“I did,” Ruggie groaned. “He doesn’t believe me. But you saw me here on Friday, right? You gotta tell him!”

Floyd sighed long-sufferingly, but pocketed his phone and stood, motioning for Ruggie to follow him back to Azul’s office. “You’d better cover my dish duty tomorrow,” he muttered, and Ruggie enthusiastically agreed.

After many long, annoying minutes of his life spent half-heartedly pleading Ruggie’s case to Azul, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out immediately, his mood brightening significantly at the sight of the name on the screen.

“...Is someone calling you?” Azul asked, as if it were the most outrageous thing he could possibly imagine. “Who?”

“Gotta go. Good luck with that, Sharksucker,” Floyd said quickly, receiving the call as he stepped out of the office. “Hey, Sea Snake, gimme one sec. Don’t hang up.”

He made his way to his room at nearly a full sprint, relieved to see that Jade wasn’t there as he latched the door behind him. He launched himself onto his bed, putting his phone on speaker enthusiastically. “Okay, I’m here~” he said, slightly out of breath.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Jamil snapped irritably. “You can’t just send me something like that and then stop responding!”

Floyd blinked, confused, and opened the messaging app on his phone.

“Oops,” he said. “Sorry, got distracted.”

Jamil exhaled loudly into the phone. “Whatever,” he muttered.

“Aww, you weren’t worried about me, were you?”

“What’s the emergency?” Jamil asked tiredly, ignoring Floyd entirely.

“Ah, right,” Floyd said, getting back into the mindset he’d been in before Ruggie had thrown him off his game. “Well, you see… I lost your lunchbox.”

There were several beats of silence, and Floyd waited patiently for Jamil to respond. “Are you kidding me,” he finally said.

“I know, I know, I’m the worst,” Floyd said with exaggerated solemnity. “Anyway, I figured I should buy you a new one. But then I thought, what if I pick out one you don’t like or somethin’? So I think the best course of action here would be for you to come with me into town next weekend and we can buy one together. It’ll be fun!”

Jamil was quiet again, and Floyd found great pleasure in imagining the irritated expression on his face. “Floyd,” he said flatly. “I don’t care about the lunchbox.”

“Great! So Saturday?”

Jamil groaned. “…Fine. I guess I wouldn’t mind going into town,” he said. “Since we stayed here for winter break, it would be nice to get out of the school.”

Now it was Floyd’s turn to pause, for once unsure how to respond. His first instinct was to say something along the lines of and whose fault was that? but it seemed… tactless, even for him. He could make a joke out of most things, and even ribbed Azul for his own overblot from time to time, but something about what happened with Jamil was decidedly not funny. Maybe it was because, when it came to Azul, the loneliness and dejection and self-hatred that had led him to that point was something that Floyd felt that he could help fix. Alleviate, at the very least. With Jamil, however, nothing had changed at all, and there was nothing Floyd could do about it. He could only hope to make Jamil laugh enough that it would one day drown out the memory of him screaming.

“I’ll get ya out of here anytime you want, Sea Snake,” was what he decided on. “Just say the word.”

Jamil let out another breath, but this time it sounded more amused than exasperated. “I appreciate the sentiment,” he said. “But I don’t exactly have a lot of free time.”

“Aw, come on, just play along,” Floyd pouted. “Say we have all the time in the world. Where do ya wanna go?”

Jamil hummed contemplatively. “Nowhere in particular. Just somewhere I’ve never been,” he said. “I do get kind of jealous that Ace has gotten to see the Coral Sea and I haven’t, though.”

“I’ll take you there!” Floyd said, sitting up in bed excitedly. “I’ll show you my house and everything! My mom’s definitely gonna love you. And we’ll get you a merform potion, not just one of those lame water breathing ones. I bet you’ll look super cool. Especially with your hair, all fanned out like betta fins. You’ll love it, seriously.”

The silence fell again, for much longer this time. Floyd checked his phone to make sure Jamil hadn’t hung up. “…Sea Snake?” he pressed, his patience failing him.

“Sorry,” Jamil said, sounding much more withdrawn than he had moments ago. “That sounds good.”

Floyd frowned. “Woah, what happened?” he asked. “Why’d ya get all moody?”

“Ugh, I’m not moody,” Jamil argued, and Floyd was relieved to hear some of his fire return. “It’s just… I don’t know, Floyd. You’re talking about introducing me to your mom. Isn’t that kind of weird?”

The question caught Floyd off guard. He understood what Jamil was asking, but he wasn’t expecting it, considering he hadn’t even been thinking about that whole thing. For a moment he’d even forgotten about it altogether. But, well, Jamil had passed him the ball, he might as well take the shot.

“I guess that’s up to you?” Floyd said. His chest felt strange, for some reason. “Maybe it’s exactly what you think it is, and maybe it’s not weird at all.”

Jamil responded with a series of strangled noises. Floyd couldn’t help but smile, amused, as he waited for him to pull himself together. “Oh,” he said, his voice delightfully high-pitched. He cleared his throat. “I don’t— I’m not sure what to—”

“Sea Snake,” Floyd said calmly. “Relax.”

“How?!” Jamil spluttered. He took a deep breath, presumably collecting himself. “You just said—”

“I didn’t really say anything?” Floyd pointed out. “You can just brush it off, if you want.”

Jamil hesitated. “Um,” he said, voice still a bit strained. “I think I have to.”

Floyd shrugged, despite the fact that Jamil couldn’t see it. “That’s fine,” he said. And really, he wasn’t worried. He’d planted the seed. There was no way Jamil could just pretend it didn’t happen. “So, we’re good for Saturday?”

Jamil let out a small laugh of disbelief. “Uh, I don’t know. Sure,” he said, overwhelmed. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Mkay~” Floyd sing-songed. “Sleep well, Sea Snake.”

Jamil scoffed. “Unlikely,” he muttered. “…Goodnight, Floyd.”

Floyd continued to lie there for a while after the line disconnected, his phone silent on the pillow beside him. He couldn’t quite explain it, but he felt… off, somehow. He brought a hand up to rest on his chest. There, just to the left of his sternum, he could feel his heart pounding heavily against his hand.

That was interesting. Maybe he was getting sick. His face did feel kind of warm.

Chapter Text

Azul sat stiffly at his desk, his mind miles away from the paperwork in front of him. He swore under his breath as he tore a hole through the parchment with his pen for the third time.

“Is something bothering you?” Jade asked mildly. He was sitting on the couch, sipping tea quietly while Azul worked. “You seem rather tense today.”

“I’m fine,” Azul grit out. He sighed, scrubbing a gloved hand over his face. “Do you know where Floyd is right now?”

Jade brought a hand to his chin in consideration. “I can't say I do,” he concluded.

“He went into town. With Jamil,” Azul said, his pen creaking in his grip. “Jamil told me in class earlier today.”

The expression on Jade’s face was infuriatingly calm, but Azul could sense his amusement, regardless. “Oh, really?” he said. He brought his teacup to his lips. “I hope they have a good time.”

Azul stood abruptly, approaching Jade and standing over him interrogatively. “You know more about this than you're letting on,” he said. It wasn't a question.

Jade had the audacity to look confused. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he said innocently. “I wasn't aware that Floyd would be going into town with Jamil-san today.”

“Jade,” Azul said firmly.

Jade sighed, setting his teacup down on the table. “I’m not sure if this is the response you're looking for, and I maintain that Floyd has not confessed anything of the sort to me,” he started. “But I am under the impression that his feelings for Jamil Viper may go beyond those of friendship.”

For lack of a better reaction, Azul laughed a bit hysterically, threading a hand through his hair. He had suspected the same, of course, but it was a different thing entirely to hear it said aloud.

Floyd’s feelings weren't even the source of his agitation, not really; Azul understood firsthand that such things could hardly be controlled. It was the fact that Jamil entertained them. Azul had spent months doing everything he possibly could to endear himself to the object of his… interests, and had been met with nothing but outright scorn and rejection. Yet Floyd, who was hardly tolerable even to the most forgiving of personalities, had managed it with apparent ease. Azul was so, so tired of being inferior.

“That's just wonderful,” he said, deeply bitter. Normally he would be more concerned about maintaining an image, but it was only Jade. Jade knew him well enough by now. “Of course, out of everyone in the entire school, it had to be Jamil. Why would I expect anything less.”

Jade created room on the couch for Azul to sit beside him, which Azul accepted gratefully. After a moment of hesitation, Jade laid a comforting hand on his back. “I hardly think it’s personal,” he said calmly. “In fact, I don’t even think that Floyd himself is aware of it. I, on the other hand, have had my suspicions since last year.”

Azul pinched the bridge of his nose, collecting himself. “Well. No matter,” he said, clearing his throat. “This hardly affects my personal objectives where Jamil is concerned.”

Jade tilted his head to the side. “Does it not?”

“Why should it?” Azul snapped. “Who’s to say anything will come of Floyd’s pursuit in the first place? I don’t see why it should be me who has to step aside.”

He’d never been quite so blatant about what exactly his intentions with Jamil were, but again, it was Jade. It was likely he already knew.

As was typical, the expression on Jade’s face did not betray his thoughts. He continued his ministrations on Azul’s back, which Azul didn’t entirely appreciate; he felt as though he was being handled. “Azul,” Jade said in that low timbre of his. “May I be frank?”

“I’d rather you weren't,” Azul muttered. He already knew what he was going to say.

“If you choose to see this as a competition,” Jade continued anyway, undeterred. “I fear it isn’t one you’re going to win.”

Azul stood, and Jade’s hand fell and came to rest on the couch. He suddenly and viscerally regretted speaking to Jade about this at all. “No, of course not,” he said tightly. “How preposterous to think I could ever be superior to either of you.”

“Azul,” Jade said again, sounding rather disappointed.

Azul shook his head, fidgeting with his gloves as he attempted to calm himself. “Nevermind. Excuse my outburst,” he said. “It makes perfect sense that your interests would align with your brother’s. I’ve always known that they would align with mine only so long as you were amused.”

Jade sighed. “A stipulation which you've invented in your head,” he said.

Azul turned away from him, facing the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he said dismissively. “There’s somewhere I need to be. Feel free to put this conversation out of your mind.”

He saw himself out of his own office, not stopping until he had locked himself in his dorm room. He planted himself in front of his mirror and scowled at his reflection.

It just wasn’t fair. He’d changed, hadn’t he? He wasn’t the same undesirable loser he had been before, he’d worked so hard to make sure of it, so why? Why wasn’t it enough? What did Floyd have that he didn’t? He had power, he had money, he could give Jamil the world. He wanted to, if Jamil would only take it.

The rejection hadn’t stung quite so badly before. He’d convinced himself that it wasn’t just him that Jamil wanted nothing to do with, but people in general, because before now that had appeared to be the case. Azul had been determined to be the one to break through those heavily-guarded walls, to be charming and thoughtful and persistent enough to make Jamil see that it was okay to let someone in. It was a carefully-laid plan that Azul had dedicated so much of himself to, and he’d anticipated the victory of accomplishing what no one else had been able to.

Except Floyd had. The moment Jamil had stepped into Mostro Lounge at Floyd’s invitation, an achievement Azul hadn’t even approached yet in his multi-step plan, he’d known that he’d been beaten. And just like with everything else, Floyd had barely even had to try.

But even that wasn't what bothered him most. Inexplicably, it wasn't Floyd who he felt scorned by. It was Jade.

Regardless of what Jade said, Azul knew that the brothers’ loyalty to him was conditional. He knew it, factually, but some part of him didn't quite believe it when it came to Jade. Floyd was fickle, but Jade truly was not, and he'd chosen Azul time and time again. Azul realized that it was selfish, and unreasonable, and stupid in a situation as frivolous as this one, but he’d wanted Jade to choose him this time, too. He'd wanted a partner to support him while he worked toward his goal. It had been a long time since he'd been denied that, and he hated the feeling. It was lonely.

Well, whatever. He would deal with it on his own. It wouldn't be the first time.

—

Azul stood in the halls of Ignihyde wearily, questioning many of his life decisions. He was exhausted, but he'd concluded after hours of tossing and turning that sleep was a lost cause, so he figured he might as well pursue the company of the one other person he knew for certain would be awake at this hour. He raised his hand to the door and knocked.

“It's open,” Idia’s muffled voice greeted him, and Azul let himself in.

The room was dark save for the blue LED lights lining the ceiling. Idia was facing away from him, thoroughly engrossed in whatever he was doing on his computer. Azul sat stiffly on the edge of his bed. “Hello,” he greeted.

“One sec. I’m about to clown on Venajo’s final form,” Idia muttered, his face inches from his screen. Azul crossed his legs and sat patiently. “Aaand ggez. The hand-holding in this game is insane, it’s way more entry-level than the original. You can seriously just button mash. Like, the updated graphics are cool, but where's the strategy? The challenge?”

Azul hummed in acknowledgment. “That is unfortunate.”

“IKR? Here, you can play this next dungeon if you want, even a noob like you could probably clear it,” Idia said, glancing at Azul briefly to hand him the controller. He did a double take. “Woah.”

Azul raised an eyebrow. “What?” he said defensively.

“Uhhh, you look awful?” Idia said bluntly. “Your eye bags are like, me-level. And that’s a platinum-tier achievement.”

Azul scowled and looked away. “I haven't been sleeping well,” he said sharply.

“That's clear,” Idia drawled. He grimaced, suddenly, curling in on himself. “Ugh, you didn't come here to like, vent, did you? Because I seriously am not equipped to deal with that. My empathy stat is in the negative ranks.”

Azul rolled his eyes. “Obviously not,” he said. “I would hardly come to you for emotional support.” Or anyone, for that matter.

“Whew,” Idia said, letting out a breath of relief. He tilted his monitor toward Azul. “Anyway, gl. You already have the best weapon equipped but you can switch it with the right bumper if you want.”

Azul picked up the controller compliantly, his attention worlds away from the game as he half-listened to Idia’s ramblings about the RNG and hitboxes. Whatever any of that meant.

After his fifth game over screen in about as many minutes, Idia let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Okay, you actually suck so bad,” he lamented, holding out his hand for the controller. “Give it back before you waste all my revives.”

“Whatever,” Azul sighed, handing it over. He watched Idia play silently for several moments, tapping his fingers against his knee distractedly. “Can I ask you something?”

“I guess.”

“Did you pursue Leona-san, or did he pursue you?”

Idia choked dramatically on the chip he was eating, looking at Azul as if he’d just threatened his life. “What?” he squeaked. “How do you know about that?!”

“I know everything about everyone,” Azul explained flatly.

Idia tugged his hood further over his head anxiously. “Uhhhhmmmmm,” he said. “This is kind of super embarrassing to talk about…”

Azul sighed in exasperation, waving him off. “Fine, forget it,” he said. “I was just curious.”

Idia seemed to suffer from a profound internal debate for a few beats, before eventually giving in with a groan. “Ugh, do you have to look so sad and pathetic?” he complained. “What a stupid question anyway. Do you seriously think I would go after a guy like Leona?”

“I suppose not,” Azul mused. “So he pursued you, then. And how did you receive it?”

“Uh. Well, at first I didn’t even realize that was what was happening, because obviously I would never assume that,” Idia said. “But then when it became like, ridiculously obvious, I figured he had lost a bet or something. Even now I don’t completely believe it, but… at this point that would be insane levels of committing to the bit, so I guess he’s serious or whatever. Eugh, why are you asking me this?”

Azul shrugged tiredly. “I’m not really sure,” he said. “This information has helped me in no way.”

“Wait wait hold up, are you trying to get relationship advice out of me?” Idia asked, horrified. “You’ve got to be kidding… what universe have I landed in where I’m the experienced one with this kind of thing…”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Azul assured flatly.

“Well, if it’s to help my junior out, I guess I could talk about it a little more…” Idia continued as if he hadn’t heard him. His disposition had quickly changed from uncomfortable to oddly eager, and the tips of his wild hair had gone slightly pink. Azul had regrets. “Leona just kinda… made me feel like I was worth the effort, I guess? Like, he would always go along with what I wanted to do and listen to me rant even when it was stuff he obviously didn’t care about. And he would go out of his way to do stuff for me, which is totally not like him, you know? I guess that’s how I realized it was gonna work. Is your, uh, person like that at all?”

“Ha,” Azul said bitterly. Not one bit of what Idia had said was relatable when it came to him and Jamil. That sounded more like Jade, if anything. “No.”

“O-oh. Okay. Uhhh,” Idia said, tugging at his sleeves awkwardly. “I don’t really know what else to say… tl;dr, it’s just nice when someone gets you? Like, if it was anyone else, they probably would’ve gotten annoyed and given up after they realized I was a total rookie bronze rank in the feelings department, but he knew that what I needed was for him not to. Idk. That’s all I’ve got.”

There it was again. That concept of getting someone, of having some sort of ambiguous understanding of another person that Azul was apparently incapable of. But the thing was, he’d thought he did understand Jamil. He understood that Jamil was incredibly talented and intelligent and capable; had understood that from the beginning despite the disguise of mediocrity he wore. He had thought that that side of him, the crafty, cunning side that kept his cards close to his chest, would recognize a kindred spirit in Azul. It was that understanding that had enabled these frustrating, impractical feelings in him in the first place.

What he didn’t understand was why Jamil preferred Floyd’s company to his. He didn’t understand why even the concept of friendship with Azul was so offensive an idea. He wasn’t so naïve as to not notice the disconnect, but for the life of him, he couldn’t understand it.

Maybe it was precisely those things that Jamil needed him to understand. Maybe what Azul lacked was what Leona apparently excelled in: the wisdom of knowing when, exactly, to give up.

“…Thank you, Idia-san,” Azul said, suddenly eager to change the subject. “Are you going to continue playing?”

Idia jumped a bit, his hair reverting back to normal as he reached for his controller. “Right, we’ve barely gotten anywhere. The next region is what I really wanted to show you,” he said, fixating once more on the screen before him. “It’s cool because it’s pretty much a 1:1 of the original game map-wise, but they totally changed the mechanics, and it’s like, bad? They should’ve at least kept the objectives the same, considering this is practically the most iconic dungeon of all time…”

Azul listened to him drone on, and actually listened, this time, as his brain was too tired to plague him with any more coherent thoughts. Idia’s voice had a smooth cadence when he was actually calm, and Azul could feel himself slowly untense as the older boy spoke without any need for a response. Surely he could afford to close his eyes for a few moments; he hardly needed to see the screen when Idia was giving such an in-depth description of what was happening.

When he opened his eyes again, his head was on a pillow that was decidedly not his own. He sat up quickly, squinting against the sudden vertigo. The scenery was the same as it had been last time he was conscious, except now there was sunlight streaming through the closed curtains, and he was alone.

He reached for his phone blearily. He had multiple missed calls and messages, mostly from the twins. A glance at the time explained why; it was nearly ten, far later than he normally slept. He cursed under his breath.

Azul managed a smile. He stood, straightened himself out, and prepared to go about his day.

Chapter Text

In the town at the base of the cliff that Night Raven College sat upon, there was a decently-priced burger restaurant that was open 24 hours a day. It was the perfect place for a basketball team to grab a late dinner on their way back from a victorious away game; Coach Vargas seemed to think so, anyway, seeing as the club spent many a night eating greasy food under the restaurant’s fluorescent lighting.

Tonight was one of those nights. Jamil picked at his fries as he lounged in one of the firetruck-red booth seats, not entirely immune to the buzz of triumph in the air. He couldn't help but feel unusually content as Floyd’s overly-long legs knocked against his under the table.

“Give me your fours,” Ace said with a smug grin, plucking the rest of the playing cards from Floyd’s hand and laying his remaining cards out on the table between them. “Got you again, Senpai!”

Floyd scowled. “Whatever. This game is dumb,” he said petulantly. “It doesn’t even have anything to do with fish.”

Jamil let out a huff of laughter as he spectated his teammates. “Ace,” he scolded lightly. “Cheating at Go Fish is kind of pathetic.”

“Baseless accusations,” Ace declared unconvincingly. “Are you gonna finish your fries?” Jamil pushed the rest of his plate toward him.

Floyd threw an arm over the back of the booth; and behind Jamil, subsequently, which didn’t go unnoticed. “Eh, give him a break, Sea Snake, he’s gotta show us up at something,” he said patronizingly. “And it’s definitely not gonna be basketball.”

“Hey, I’m not even mad,” Ace said, mouth full of Jamil’s donated food. “You two tore up that court tonight, for real. And Floyd-senpai didn’t even foul out of the game for once.”

Jamil glanced at Floyd, twirling the straw of his milkshake idly. “That's true,” he said, trying to keep the strange sense of pride that welled up in him from showing in his voice. “I think that might be the first time ever.”

Floyd shrugged. “Yeah, well, it was pretty lame to stick to the rules the whole time,” he said. “But I thought it might be fun to go shot-for-shot with you and win together.”

Jamil cleared his throat, hiding his face under the guise of taking a sip of his milkshake. Ace groaned.

“If it was to impress Jamil-senpai, you'd think you would've done it a long time ago,” Ace said flatly.

Floyd blinked, tilting his head to the side. “Hm? Dunno what you mean,” he said, his confusion seemingly genuine.

“Shut up, Ace,” Jamil muttered.

“Alright, everyone wrap it up! Back on the bus in ten!” Vargas announced loudly, inadvertently putting Jamil out of his misery.

They began cleaning up and gathering their things, and Jamil made to grab all of their trays and take them to the trash can. He paused as he noticed the state of Floyd’s. “You didn't even touch your food,” he said, raising an eyebrow. Floyd was normally voraciously hungry after games.

“Ah, my bad, got distracted,” Floyd brushed him off with a shrug. “I’ll take it to go.”

Jamil narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously, but let it slide. They made their way out to the bus, the cool night air making Jamil shiver as they left the comfortable heat of the restaurant.

Floyd glanced over at Jamil as they walked side-by-side. Wordlessly, he held out the jacket he had slung over his shoulder toward him. Jamil flinched away as if he were handing him a bomb.

“Um, no thanks,” Jamil said quickly, trying to cover up his reaction.

Floyd sighed exasperatedly. “You don't gotta be so serious, Sea Snake,” he complained. “You're cold and I’m not wearin’ it. Not a big deal.”

Jamil grimaced, resenting the rush of blood to his face. This was so stupid. How could Floyd be so casual about all of this? How could he do something as cliché as offering Jamil his letterman jacket without cringing? It was for this exact reason that Jamil had never even entertained the idea of high school romance. It was mortifying.

And that was what this was; Jamil knew it for certain now. Floyd was romancing him. He figured the best thing he could do with that information was ignore it and continue treating Floyd like he normally would, but he wasn’t making it easy.

Whatever. He was cold.

“Fine. Thank you,” Jamil said, grabbing the jacket and trying his best to convince himself that this was a completely normal gesture between teammates. It was still warm from Floyd’s body heat. Jamil was in so much trouble.

The ride back to the school was short and uneventful. Floyd sat beside Jamil, but left him alone for the most part, instead opting to lean across the aisle and pester Ace. Jamil rested against the window and closed his eyes, doing his best to think about anything other than the pleasant, unmistakable smell of Floyd wrapped around him.

The bus let them off in front of the main building, and the team parted ways as they headed to the mirror chamber and back to their respective dorms. Jamil made to head up the stairs to the entrance, but Floyd stepped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

“I was thinkin’,” Floyd said casually. “I don’t really feel like going back yet. We should do something.”

Jamil raised an eyebrow. “It’s late,” he said flatly. “And I still have things to do.”

“What, like making Sea Otter’s lunch?” Floyd asked casually. He grinned, holding his takeout box out to Jamil. “Tah dah! Looks like your night’s all freed up.”

Jamil stared at the box blankly for a few moments, before slowly moving his eyes up to meet Floyd’s smug expression. Floyd hadn’t eaten a single bite of his food. Floyd was always hungry after games.

Jamil was in so much trouble.

“…I’ll give you an hour,” Jamil muttered, feeling himself concede in more ways than one. “We still have class tomorrow.”

“Yay!” Floyd chirped. “Race ya to the spelldrive field?”

Jamil groaned. “Do you ever run out of energy? We just played a full basketball game,” he said dryly. Floyd didn’t respond, only continued to look at him expectantly.

There was a beat. Then, simultaneously, they took off running.

Jamil couldn’t help but grin as the cool night air whipped through his hair and against his face. He felt the same exhilaration he always did during basketball practice, and every rare occasion he was allowed to release his inhibitions entirely and let go. He’d had dreams like this, of running as fast as he could, away from the burdens of his daily life and toward something that was just his.

Floyd had the advantage of longer legs, but Jamil was lighter, and he was stubborn. There was no way he was going to lose, not when, for once, nothing was holding him back from winning. He was about three steps ahead of Floyd when his shoes skidded to a stop on the turf.

“Ahh, man,” Floyd panted, immediately collapsing onto his back on the empty field. “You’re too good at everything, Sea Snake.”

Jamil snorted, sitting beside Floyd and attempting to catch his breath. “Well, considering I’ve had legs for seventeen years and you’ve had them for less than two,” he pointed out. “I think we can chalk this one up to experience.”

Floyd held his gaze for a moment. “You don't gotta do that around me, y’know,” he said seriously, propping himself up onto his elbows. “Act all humble or whatever. You're awesome and you know it.”

Jamil resisted the urge to be embarrassed by the praise, and instead huffed a laugh. “I do,” he agreed. And what a rush it was, to be able to admit something like that out loud. “I wasn’t trying to be humble, I just meant… you’re pretty impressive yourself.”

Floyd giggled joyfully, flopping back and lifting one hand to toy with the end of Jamil’s ponytail. “I like getting compliments from Sea Snake~” he sang. “Go ahead, keep telling me how cool I am.”

Jamil rolled his eyes, ignoring Floyd as he laid back on the grass beside him. He pulled the overly-long sleeves of the borrowed jacket over his hands to stave off the cold. Floyd lifted an arm lazily, tracing the constellations above them.

“You can't really see the stars in Silk City,” Jamil mused softly, watching the lazy pattern of Floyd’s fingers. “It’s a densely populated area, so the light pollution drowns them out. But when we were kids, Kalim and I would sometimes sneak out on a carpet to go up above the clouds where they were easier to see.”

Floyd hummed. “You should see 'em from the Coral Sea. There are so many, even more than here,” he said dreamily. “Jade and I used to swim up to the surface to look at them. See those stars there, the ones that make a big ol’ squiggly line? When we were little, Azul told us that was a moray swimmin’ across the sky.”

A smile spread across Jamil’s face; he couldn't help but be charmed by the thought of a young Azul making up astronomy facts solely for the entertainment of his two weird friends. He followed the line Floyd was tracing thoughtfully. “Actually,” he said, thinking back on the education he'd received from the Asim’s tutors when he was younger. “That constellation is called Serpens. It's… a snake.”

He’d thought Floyd might be disappointed by the revelation, but on the contrary, his expression lit up. “Ahaha, you don't say,” he said, amused. “Well, whatever. Eels and snakes are pretty similar anyway.”

“I guess,” Jamil agreed mildly.

He turned away from the stars to face Floyd. At some point, apparently, Floyd had done the same, and they were now facing each other at a much closer proximity than Jamil had expected. He held his breath. Several weighted moments passed between them.

“Should we kiss or something?” Floyd asked bluntly. He didn't look smug or giddy, like Jamil might have expected, but instead oddly unsure.

Jamil quickly turned his head back so that he was once again facing the sky, scrubbing a hand over his face and doing his best not to overreact. “No,” he said firmly.

Floyd was quiet for a moment, before shrugging. “Mkay,” he said.

Jamil couldn't take it anymore. He groaned, sitting up quickly and fixing Floyd with an accusatory glare. “How are you so relaxed about this?!” he asked exasperatedly. “Seriously, you're not holding anything back, and I keep rejecting you. Aren't you embarrassed at all?”

Floyd barked a laugh, folding his hands behind his head casually. “Embarrassed? Uh, no,” he said, as if the very concept was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. “I figured I’d just keep at it until you told me to knock it off. Which you haven't, by the way.”

The words were on the tip of Jamil’s tongue. Knock it off. It was the smart thing to do, just cut it off here before things got even more out of hand. He had been perfectly fine with the way things were before; with just three easy syllables, they could go back to that. That easy, distant camaraderie that meant nothing outside of making Jamil’s life a bit more tolerable on days that they had club practice.

He couldn't do it. The words wouldn't come out.

“Look,” Jamil said instead, despite his every instinct cringing away from the conversation. “I’m not… available, Floyd.”

“Eh? You got another guy back home or somethin’?” Floyd asked casually.

Jamil rolled his eyes. “Yeah. His name is Kalim,” he said flatly. He sighed. “I don't have free time, ever. I have a very demanding full-time job that I can't afford to be distracted from. This kind of… thing… is something I've never really thought about, and can't think about, not now. I would be terrible at it, in any case.”

Floyd just hummed thoughtfully, not appearing to be particularly affected by the information. “It's not ‘cause you don't like me, then?” he asked with a smirk.

The answer came easily, despite the fact that Jamil hadn't really thought about it before. “…No,” he admitted, to Floyd and to himself. “It's not.”

Floyd’s grin widened, his sharp teeth flashing in a way that for once wasn't menacing or intimidating. He sat up, leaning into Jamil’s space once more. “Soooo, what you're sayin’ is—”

“I’m saying that nothing is going to happen,” Jamil said quickly. “Can we change the subject, please? You might be immune to embarrassment, but I have plenty for the both of us.”

Floyd just chuckled, pulling himself to his feet. “Fine, fine,” he said. “Guess we should be headin’ back anyway. There’s tons of bugs out here.”

“What?! Where?” Jamil spluttered, shooting to his feet and wiping at the sudden ghost sensation of legs crawling up his arms. Rather than responding, Floyd burst into laughter, the sound echoing across the empty field. Jamil’s panic immediately gave way to frustration. “You are so annoying.”

“Hehe, I know, right?” Floyd said brightly. “I wonder why Sea Snakey likes such an annoying guy~”

Jamil abruptly turned away and began stalking back to the main building. Floyd jogged to catch up with him, still giggling at Jamil’s expense as they made their way across the deserted campus.

Once they entered the mirror chamber, Floyd turned to Jamil, giving him a condescending pat on the head. Jamil glowered at him, which only seemed to make him more delighted. “Go to bed, Floyd,” Jamil sighed.

“Yes sir,” Floyd replied with a grin. “Thanks for hangin’ out with me, Sea Snake. It’s always fun with you.”

“…I had fun too,” Jamil muttered, turning away. “Goodnight.”

“Night night!”

Jamil headed toward the mirror to Scarabia, exhaustion setting in the moment he found himself alone. Class was going to be rough tomorrow. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

It wasn’t until he was standing in front of the mirror and saw his own reflection that he realized what he’d forgotten. He turned quickly, but the chamber was empty other than him; Floyd had already returned to his own dorm. Jamil sighed and pulled out his phone.

“Miss me already?” Floyd answered on the first ring.

“I forgot to give you back your jacket,” Jamil explained, unable to tear his eyes away from the image of himself wearing it reflected in front of him. “Do you want to come back and grab it?”

“Eh? Nah, don’t worry about it,” Floyd replied with a yawn.

Jamil frowned. “…Okay,” he said. “I’ll give it back to you next practice.”

“Whatever you want,” Floyd said casually.

Jamil didn’t respond, just stepped through the mirror with phone still in hand, inexplicably hesitant to hang up. Neither he nor Floyd spoke as he headed through the Scarabia lounge toward the kitchen, but Floyd didn’t make any attempt to say goodbye either, seemingly unbothered by the silence. Jamil listened to him shuffle around on the other end of the line; getting into bed, maybe.

With the phone held between his ear and his shoulder, Jamil opened the fridge, shoving Floyd’s leftovers in among the various other containers of food in mid-preparation which belonged almost entirely to him. The sight reminded him of something. “Oh, I meant to tell you,” Jamil said, relieved to have come up with a reason to keep Floyd on the phone. “Kalim was ranting the other day about how NRC doesn’t have a prom, which of course led him to the conclusion that he had to throw one himself in Scarabia. It’s next weekend. He told me to invite everyone I could, so.”

Floyd was quiet for so long that Jamil was convinced he’d fallen asleep. Jamil tapped his foot against the linoleum kitchen floor as he waited, his heart racing with anxiousness that he didn’t entirely understand.

“Sea Snake,” Floyd finally spoke, and Jamil could hear the smirk in his voice. “Are you asking me to prom?”

And really, Jamil should have seen that coming. “I am inviting you to what is essentially just another one of Kalim’s parties, on behalf of Kalim,” he clarified dryly. “You can tell Jade and Azul too.”

“Mm hmm~” Floyd said, infuriatingly patronizing. “I’ll definitely be there. I’ll even dress up real nice for you~”

“Ugh,” Jamil groaned. “I’m going to bed now.”

“Hope you have nice dreams of your handsome prom date, Sea Sna—”

Jamil hung up before he could finish speaking. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his phone to his forehead.

He was in so, so much trouble.

Chapter Text

“Azuuuuul,” Floyd whined, sprawling himself dramatically across Azul’s desk. He tilted his head back to give him his best pout, and Azul’s eye twitched in response. “You gotta come.”

“I agree, the festivities will certainly suffer from your absence,” Jade added, far more maturely.

Azul rolled his eyes, unmoved by the display. “Quit patronizing me, both of you. You’ll be just fine,” he said. “I can hardly afford to waste time with something as frivolous as a party, I’m far too busy. Floyd, get off.”

Ignoring the request entirely, Floyd turned over onto his stomach, resting his chin in his hand and fixing Azul with a deep frown. “Since when are you so boring?” he drawled. “Any other time we get invited to a party in Scarabia, you’re obnoxiously gung-ho about it.”

Azul glowered at him, and the reaction was hostile enough to actually catch Floyd off guard. “Things are different now,” he said sharply.

Floyd slid off of the desk slowly, exchanging a weighted glance with Jade. He wasn’t stupid, he was perfectly aware of the tension between Azul and the two of them as of late; it was impossible not to be, it was so thick in the air he could feel it pressing down on his skin. It pissed him off. He’d told Jade from the beginning that the last thing he wanted was to fight with Azul, but that seemed to be the direction things were heading anyway.

What he didn’t understand was why the animosity seemed to be directed at Jade as well. It would be one thing if Azul was just mad at Floyd, whatever, he could deal with it, but what he couldn’t stomach was the idea of Azul creating a me and them divide in his head. Azul couldn’t separate himself from them, he wasn’t allowed. The very idea made Floyd want to break something.

“Things don’t need to be different,” Jade said calmly. “Circumstances notwithstanding, I had hoped the three of us could have a good time together, the same as we always have.”

Azul hummed, pointedly avoiding their gazes as he focused on the contracts in front of him. “Is that so?” he asked, his voice tight. “Is that your objective for tonight, Floyd? To have a good time with me?”

“Ugh,” Floyd groaned in response, too annoyed to acknowledge the question further.

Azul set down his quill, folding his hands and meeting their stares coldly. “I’m not entirely sure what the two of you want from me,” he said. “Seeing as I’ve become so boring, I would think you’d be perfectly capable of enjoying yourselves without me around.”

“Ugh,” Floyd said.

Jade cleared his throat. “Well, if that’s your decision, I suppose we have no choice but to accept it. Forgive my abruptness, but as I will be attending, I must excuse myself to get ready,” he said. “Perhaps the two of you can use this time to speak alone.”

“If you leave I’m never forgiving you,” Floyd grit out.

“By all means, go with him,” Azul said casually, his attention already returning to his work.

Jade shot Floyd another glance, before making his exit, the click of the door echoing in the uncomfortable silence. It took every ounce of restraint in Floyd’s body not to run out after him. He really, really didn’t want to be here, and he couldn’t stand doing things he didn’t want to do. But he couldn’t stand the thought of Azul hating him more.

Floyd sighed long-sufferingly, sitting on the edge of Azul’s desk and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “Look, I really hate this beating-around-the-bush shit,” he muttered. “Just tell me you’re mad at me for goin’ after Sea Snake.”

The scratching of Azul’s quill came to a stop. There was a long, drawn-out silence. “I’m not angry with you. You are perfectly at liberty to go after whoever you’d like,” Azul said. Floyd didn’t turn to look at him, but he sounded far less irritable than before, at least. “But I’m not going to willfully hand you opportunities to rub it in my face.”

Floyd frowned, unsure of what to say. Because wasn’t that the entire point of all this? To rub it in his face? To beat him so badly at his own game that he’d have to forfeit? But Floyd hadn’t even been thinking of that, he’d been thinking that he wanted to have fun, and that he wanted Azul to be part of it like always. His mind didn’t work in chess moves the way Jade’s and Azul’s did. Yet he was playing a match anyway, and he was two moves away from checkmate against an opponent he didn’t even want to beat.

“Fine,” Floyd huffed, sliding off the desk and turning toward Azul. “I’ll throw in the towel.”

Azul blinked at him. “What?”

“If you want me to stop tryin’ to win over Sea Snake, then whatever,” he said with a shrug, ignoring the sudden sick, confusing feeling in his stomach. “I’ll stop.”

The look on Azul’s face was one of utter disbelief. “Why would you do that?” he asked. “Since when do you do anything based on how I feel about it?”

Now it was Floyd’s turn to be confused. After all these years, did Azul really not get it? Did he not notice the way Floyd and Jade always stuck by his side, the way they had welcomed him into a world that had always just been the two of them? That world had been exclusive and guarded until Azul came along. It wasn’t like they ever talked about it, but Floyd had never imagined that the weight of that would be lost on him.

How annoying. And here he’d thought that Azul was smart.

“I just hate this, okay?” Floyd said exasperatedly. “I don’t want things to be weird anymore.”

Azul scoffed. “Are your feelings for Jamil so fickle?” he asked dryly.

Floyd shifted awkwardly. How was he supposed to respond to that? He didn’t have feelings for Jamil, not really. But even so… the thought of putting an end to all of it left a bad taste in his mouth, and he couldn’t understand why. Jamil would probably be relieved, seeing as he obviously didn’t want anything to happen between them anyway, and Azul would stop acting all wounded and pathetic. So why did he feel so gross about it? Maybe he was just worried about Jade getting mad at him for messing up his dumb plan. That was probably it.

When it was clear that Floyd wasn’t going to respond, Azul sighed, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “Can you just… allow me a moment of petulance?” he asked, resigned. “I’ll get over it. Obviously I don't want you to stop pursuing Jamil on my account. It would hardly benefit me, in any case.” He paused, looking away with a grimace. “It’s clear that he doesn’t reciprocate my interest and never will.”

Floyd felt that weird suffocating feeling that had been weighing on his chest lift at once. Not for the first time, he found himself amazed by how intricately his brother knew Azul. His stupid plan had actually worked. Azul was licking his wounds and moving on, just like Jade had predicted he would.

“Oh. Okay,” Floyd said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Cool.”

“Are you satisfied?” Azul said tiredly. “Because personally I’ve found this conversation thoroughly humiliating, and would like to get back to work.”

Floyd stuck his lip out in a pout, leaning into Azul’s space. “No,” he said. “I still want you to come to the party.”

“I see. So everything I said went completely over your head, then.”

Floyd sighed dramatically, heading for the door. “Fine, fine,” he said. “I just think it’s mean that you’re makin’ poor Jade go to prom without a date. I bet he was excited to dance with you.”

“…What?” Azul said, perplexed. “What do you—”

“Nevermind. Gotta go, see ya!” Floyd responded brightly, spinning around and exiting the office without another word.

He was decidedly unsurprised to see Jade waiting right outside the door, arms crossed and not looking particularly amused. “Your subtlety could use some work,” he greeted with a tight smile.

“Eh, whatever,” Floyd said with a shrug. “Can we go dance now?”

Jade’s smile softened around the edges, and he held his arm out. “Lead the way.”

—

As usual, Jamil was a force to be reckoned with when it came to parties.

The Scarabia lounge was immaculately decorated to the extent that Floyd barely recognized it; it was dark save for a bright array of flashing, multicolored lights, and all of the furniture was pushed to the side to create a wide open space for dancing. The ceilings and walls were adorned with streamers and balloons, there were several long tables piled with snacks and punch bowls, and a tasteful selection of fun, upbeat music echoed throughout the room. It wasn't like Floyd had been to a high school prom before, but based on what he’d seen in the movies, Jamil had pretty much nailed it.

“Whoever could you be looking for?” Jade asked, smiling patronizingly as he watched Floyd get up on his toes and search the crowd.

Floyd shot him an unamused look. “Shaddup,” he muttered.

“Floyd! Jade!” an excited voice reached them. Kalim ran up from the crowd, decked out in expensive-looking robes and gold jewelry. “I’m glad you made it! Is Azul with you?”

“He couldn’t find the time in his schedule, unfortunately,” Jade answered with a solemn smile. “He sends his regrets.”

“Aw, that’s too bad! I bet Jamil’ll be bummed, I think they’re pretty close since they’re in the same class and all,” Kalim replied. Floyd wondered, not for the first time, if Kalim knew anything about Jamil at all. “Well, anyway, you guys should get something to eat! Jamil made so much awesome food, seriously, you gotta check it out.”

Floyd peered over the crowd once more. “Speakin’ of Sea Snake, is he around?” he asked casually.

Kalim hummed thoughtfully, craning his neck as well. “I haven’t seen him much, actually. He’s probably running around like crazy trying to make sure everyone’s having a good time. He’s such a good host!” he said brightly. “I’ll send him your way if I catch him, okay?”

“Thank you, Kalim-san,” Jade said with a small bow. “We will be sure to enjoy the festivities to the fullest.”

Kalim bid them farewell and disappeared back into the crowd, and Floyd sighed, feeling his mood dip with each minute that passed without him spotting a familiar head of dark hair. “I guess I’m gonna go dance,” Floyd announced, spotting Ace and his little freshman friends on the dance floor. “You comin’ with?”

Jade glanced toward the entrance thoughtfully. “I think I’ll stay here for a bit,” he said vaguely. “I’ll join you soon.”

Floyd shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said, making his way through the throng of dancers.

The grin on Ace’s face was genuine when Floyd approached him; a welcome change from his usual arrogant, condescending smirk. Probably because he currently had the full attention of that mackerel he was always hanging around with. “Floyd-senpai!” he shouted over the music. “What’s up?”

“Just checkin’ things out,” Floyd said. He grinned lazily, turning to Deuce. “Hey Mackey, mind if I steal your dance partner for a bit?”

Deuce’s eyes darted around, as if unsure whether he was being spoken to. “O-oh, of course, Leech-senpai!” he said earnestly. “You can have him for as long as you want!”

“Dude, don’t just pawn me off,” Ace said with a glower.

Floyd just laughed, grabbing Ace’s hand and pulling him deeper onto the dance floor. Ace’s irritation faded quickly as Floyd dragged him along, and he joined in on his energetic dancing with an exasperated smile.

“You’re not too bad at this, Crabby,” Floyd mused. “I figured you’d overcompensate at dancing like you do with basketball.”

Ace let out a single dry laugh in response. “‘Course I can dance, didn’t you see me at SDC?” he replied confidently. “I tore up that stage, thank you very much.”

Floyd remembered their SDC performance well, in fact. Mostly, he remembered Jamil’s solo, and how he’d been mesmerized by the way he moved as he looked on from the audience. Up until that point, he hadn’t known that Jamil could sing and dance, not like that, anyway. He remembered thinking that there were so many things about Jamil Viper that he didn’t know, and that he wanted to know all of them.

“Ah, that’s right,” Floyd said offhandedly. “You and Sea Snake looked really cool up there.”

Ace hummed, accepting the compliment. He quirked an eyebrow at Floyd. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be dancing with your date?” he asked mockingly.

The reminder of the evening’s lack of Jamil caused a dip in Floyd’s volatile mood. He shrugged. “Haven’t seen him yet,” he said.

Ace’s amusement quickly turned to a grimace. “Ew, seriously? I was joking,” he said flatly. “So are you two like… official, now?”

“Hm? Nah,” Floyd said casually. “I went for it and he totally turned me down, ahaha.”

Ace cringed. “Ugh, I was trying to mess with you, so why am I the one who’s embarrassed…?” he muttered. “Um, hang in there, or something?”

Floyd groaned. “You’re just like Sea Snake, for real. You guys are takin’ this whole thing way too seriously,” he said. “I’m just having fun.”

“Oookay,” Ace said awkwardly. “Well, whatever, I really don’t care. But if you guys start kissing in the locker room or something I’m quitting the club.”

“Aww, but then who would warm the bench?” Floyd lamented sarcastically.

Ace deadpanned at him. “You’re a dick,” he said.

“Looked in a mirror lately?” Floyd shot back, delighted.

Ace’s annoyed expression drifted somewhere over Floyd’s shoulder. “Speaking of mirrors,” he said. “Your brother keeps looking over here. I think he’s trying to get your attention.”

Floyd followed Ace’s gaze to see Jade was indeed watching him, still lingering near the entrance. Upon locking eyes with Floyd, he smiled and tilted his head slightly to motion him over. “Guess I gotta go,” Floyd said, giving Ace one more overly-enthusiastic spin for good measure. Ace stumbled and caught himself before the momentum sent him flying. “I’ll let you get back to your mackerel.”

“He’s not my— whatever,” Ace muttered. “See ya. Hope you find Jamil-senpai, that guy could use some fun.”

Floyd pushed his way through the crowd and made his way toward Jade, who was wearing a radiantly delighted expression. “Look who made it,” Jade said happily, nodding toward a wall not too far from them, where a lone figure was standing back against the wall and searching the crowd. For them, presumably.

“No way,” Floyd said excitedly, pushing through the mass of bodies toward the person in question, Jade following closely behind. “Azul!”

Azul looked up, his expression smoothing out with relief upon seeing them before quickly reverting to its usual blasé confidence. “Ah, there you are,” he said casually. “It’s rather loud, isn’t it?”

Floyd ignored him, wrapping his arms around him tightly from behind and resting his chin on his head. “I knew you’d get lonely without us~” he said cheerfully. Azul squirmed in his hold.

“It’s nothing like that at all. Get off,” Azul said, managing to pry Floyd’s arms off of him and straightening his hair flusteredly. “After some thought, I figured my personal matters were less important than maintaining good relations with Kalim-san. He could be a valuable asset to us in the future, as you both know.”

“Of course,” Jade said, barely doing anything to hide his pleasure; a rarity, for him. “Kalim-san will be glad to see you. As am I.”

Azul cleared his throat. “Right. Well,” he said. “Shall we get something to eat?”

“Actually,” Jade said, straightening up and holding out a hand to Azul. “While I have your attention, I was hoping you’d agree to a dance.”

Floyd raised an eyebrow, pleased to see his brother actually taking some initiative for once. His amusement rose as he watched Azul squirm at the suggestion. “I’m sure you know this, but I’m not particularly skilled at dancing,” he said, eyeing the outstretched hand hesitantly. “You’d have a much better time dancing with Floyd.”

“I want to dance with you,” Jade declared firmly. His gaze shifted toward the concessions table, and he cleared his throat pointedly. “Besides, Floyd has other matters to attend to.”

Floyd and Azul simultaneously turned to follow his line of sight. There, looking characteristically overwhelmed and exhausted as he refilled the punch bowl, was the very person Floyd wanted to see most. The rush of excitement he felt was almost immediately dampened by the oppressive awkwardness that suddenly fell between the three of them.

There were several beats of silence. Azul’s expression was complicated, like he wanted to scowl but couldn’t quite bring himself to. Finally, he sighed in resignation. “Very well, then,” Azul said, taking Jade’s hand. He met Floyd’s eyes and offered him an attempt at a smile. “Have fun.”

Floyd was overwhelmed with the desire to squeeze him again, but for once, he restrained himself. “Catch you guys later,” he said quickly, before making his way over toward the punch bowl as quickly as he could without running.

Jamil was facing away from him when he approached, and for some reason, Floyd hesitated. He had that weird feeling in his chest again, the uncomfortable pounding that had been afflicting him non-stop lately. It was stupid, and he probably wasn’t dying, so he did his best to ignore it as he leaned down and brought his mouth close to Jamil’s ear.

“Thought you stood me up~” he said lowly, giggling as Jamil jumped in surprise and turned to face him.

The way Jamil looked certainly did nothing to help the weird feeling. On the contrary, it brought on an entirely new one; one that reminded Floyd of the way he’d felt when he’d gone cliff diving at the beach over the summer. Like he was falling, and he’d left his stomach behind on the cliff’s edge.

Jamil’s eyelids were painted a deep, glittery red. They matched the robes that fell over his figure, which were intricately beaded and far more elaborate than the simple blue tuxedo that Floyd wore. His hair was unbraided for once, but tied up in a high, straight ponytail that cascaded down his back. Floyd felt like he was on fire.

Oblivious to Floyd’s ailments, Jamil crossed his arms. “I could hardly do that, considering I live here, I’m hosting the party, and I’m not your date,” he said flatly. He paused, and when Floyd didn't respond, raised an eyebrow. “…Are you okay?”

“Uhhh,” Floyd replied, his thoughts moving like syrup through his brain. “You look really good.”

Jamil sighed, pulling on his robes distastefully. “It’s way too much… Kalim had his parents send us clothes from home. He insisted that we had to treat this like a real prom and not like just another party,” he said with an eye roll. “But thanks. You look nice too.”

The response made Floyd feel unusually awkward. Since when had Jamil started taking his compliments without any sort of protest? It wasn't even worth messing with him if he was gonna be like that. …Had Floyd been messing with him, even? He didn't know. He couldn't think.

“We should dance,” Floyd said quickly. Talking seemed hard all of a sudden, but dancing he could do.

Jamil seemed hesitant. He glanced at the concession table behind them. “I don’t really have time,” he said, sounding a bit regretful. “I have to refill the dips, and I haven’t checked on Kalim in a while…”

Floyd yawned theatrically. “Eh, fine,” he said with a shrug. “I’m gonna go practice that head spin you were showin’ me, see ya.”

“Wh— wait, Floyd!” Jamil said irritably as Floyd walked away, chasing him out onto the dance floor. “You can't just do a head spin in a crowd, you'll hurt someone. Probably yourself.”

Floyd grinned, taking Jamil’s hands and pulling him into a more open area. “Good point,” he said. “Now that you're out here, you might as well dance with me.”

Jamil glowered. “You're obnoxious,” he said, but didn't protest as Floyd proceeded to move him along to the music.

Floyd had imagined, considering their shared passion for dancing, that they would be perfectly in sync with each other as they moved across the dance floor. That wasn't quite the reality. Floyd was erratic and carefree with his movements where Jamil was precise and disciplined, and Jamil spent a majority of the time clumsily trying to correct Floyd without actually having the strength to do so.

“Oww,” Floyd whined. “You keep steppin’ on my foot.”

“Because your time is off! You play like ten instruments, you'd think you'd have rhythm,” Jamil snarked back. He moved Floyd’s hand from his waist to his shoulder for what must have been the tenth time. “Stop trying to lead.”

Floyd smirked. “Shouldn't I lead though?” he asked. “Since you're so short.”

“I’m not, even,” Jamil said flatly. “You're ridiculously tall. And that doesn't matter, anyway, I’m a more experienced dancer than you are.”

“Mhm~” Floyd teased, ignoring most of what he'd said. “You're even smaller than Azul.”

Judging by his expression, Jamil was far more offended by this than anything else. “We're the same height,” he insisted.

“I dunno, pretty sure he’s got a bit on you,” Floyd said, holding a hand up over Jamil’s head to indicate where he thought Azul might stand.

Jamil swatted his hand away. “Ugh, whatever,” he said. He took a step away from Floyd. “This isn't working. We’re obviously not compatible. When it comes to dancing, I mean.”

Floyd sighed dramatically. “That's because, as always, you're not doing what you wanna do,” he pointed out. He turned to address the group of dancers closest to them. “Hey, make some room unless you wanna get kicked.”

Jamil brought an exasperated hand to his face. “Please don't,” he muttered, in a tone that implied he already knew it was too late.

“I’ve been workin’ on that move you taught me! Check it out,” Floyd said excitedly, squatting down and proceeding to spin his leg around him like a helicopter, catching himself with his hands and jumping over it with his other leg. He grinned up at Jamil. “Good, huh?”

Despite his best efforts to look annoyed, Jamil couldn't keep the small smile off of his face. “Pretty good,” he agreed. “Now get off the floor.”

“Aww, come on,” Floyd said, resolutely not getting off the floor and leaning back on his hands. “Show me something.”

Jamil glanced at the crowd around them with a grimace. “This isn’t the place, Floyd,” he said. “We're going to make a scene.”

“So?” Floyd said, looking up at Jamil flatly. “Let ‘em see how cool you are.”

After a few more moments of hesitation, Jamil crouched down to Floyd’s level with a sigh. “Fine,” he said. “Back up.”

Floyd scooted backwards out of the way, watching in amazement as Jamil went into a semi-headstand with his legs spread out rather than straight up in the air. Then, he rolled onto his shoulders, before spinning back into a headstand just as quickly, his legs spread and turning like a windmill as he went. He made it look so easy and graceful, despite the strength Floyd knew it took to keep his limbs in position as he spun like a top on the floor.

“You,” Floyd said seriously when Jamil came to a stop, panting slighting from the exertion. “Are so fuckin’ awesome, Sea Snake.”

Jamil grinned, and it was such a genuinely happy expression that Floyd couldn't help but return it. “It’s not that hard, really,” he said. “Here, I’ll show you another one. Try to follow along.”

It quickly devolved from there. Jamil broke out what seemed to be every move in his repertoire, from footwork to spins to handstands, while Floyd half-attempted to mimic him and half-invented his own moves. Even when the music transitioned to less-upbeat songs that were clearly meant for slow dancing, they continued, as if they were dancing to a beat that only they could hear. The awkward feeling Floyd had felt around Jamil earlier was long gone, and instead replaced by something light and fluttery every time Jamil laughed loudly at Floyd’s bastardized attempts at keeping up with him.

At one point, Floyd glanced out toward the crowd and saw Jade and Azul. They seemed to be deep in conversation as they danced; the seemingly-permanently agitation that had marred Azul's face recently was gone, and Jade was nearly glowing with pleasure as he held Azul’s hand in his. The entire time Floyd watched them, Azul didn't so much as spare a glance in his and Jamil’s direction. No wonder Jade was smiling. Everything had worked out exactly the way he'd wanted it to.

Jamil and Floyd stopped dancing only after they became entirely too exhausted to continue. By the time they were finished, Jamil’s hair had come undone and his face was glowing with sweat, makeup smudged and breath coming out harshly. He was smiling in a way that Floyd had never seen on him before. He was so, so beautiful.

“Huh,” Floyd said, looking around as they sat on the floor and caught their breath, mostly as an excuse to drag his eyes away from Jamil. “It really cleared out.”

The other partygoers had created a large berth around them at some point; not only that, but there seemed to be far less of a crowd in general. Was the party already winding down? How long had they been dancing?

“Jamil!” a voice suddenly called, and Kalim’s fancy gold robes suddenly appeared in Floyd’s line of vision. “That was super fun to watch! I wanted to join you guys, but it was like you were in your own world, haha.”

Jamil stood quickly, brushing himself off. “Sorry, I… I got distracted,” he said. Floyd stood up as well, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Is everything going okay? Where is everyone?”

“Everything’s great! I think a bunch of people headed out, it's getting kinda late,” Kalim said with a shrug. “I’m gonna go keep dancing though, Silver promised me a dance before he left. I just wanted to let you know the prom has been a huge success! Everyone’s been having a great time!”

Jamil nodded, looking a bit distracted. “Good,” he said offhandedly. “That's great.”

Kalim turned to Floyd with the same easygoing smile he always wore. “That was some super cool dancing, Floyd. You're a perfect partner for Jamil,” he said. “I’ll catch you guys later!”

He ran off with a wave over his shoulder, leaving Floyd and Jamil alone once more. Floyd rocked back on his feet, watching Jamil curiously. The expression on his face was complicated; definitely not the elated one he'd worn moments ago, but not exactly upset either, more like he was deep in thought.

“See that?” Floyd said, nudging him with his elbow. “Sea Otter was just fine.”

Jamil looked up at Floyd, meeting his eyes with wonder. “I wasn't even thinking about him,” he said.

“Hm?”

“I… nevermind,” Jamil said, waving him off. He cleared his throat. “I guess I should start getting ready to shut everything down.”

Floyd hummed, glancing out over the room. “I should probably find Azul and Jade,” he said. He smiled, reaching out to wipe a smudge of eyeliner from under Jamil’s eye. “Thanks for inviting me, Sea Snake. Couldn’t’ve asked for a better prom date.”

Jamil reached up to grab Floyd’s hand as if to remove it, but seemed to change his mind halfway through the action, and instead held it near his face. They maintained eye contact for several long moments. “Floyd,” Jamil said, slowly lowering their clasped hands before letting go. “Goodnight.”

Floyd watched as Jamil turned on his heel and walked away, feeling an overwhelming urge to follow him. Well, he would see him tomorrow at practice. The night had to end eventually.

After several unsuccessful minutes of searching the emptying party for Jade and Azul, Floyd pulled out his phone to call them. His eyes were immediately drawn to a new message from Jade that he must have missed earlier.

Floyd frowned. That had been sent around a half an hour earlier. He really had been dancing longer than he thought.

He headed to the mirror chamber alone, whistling to himself all the while and feeling rather satisfied by the events of the night. This was it, right? The grand finale? Jamil liked him, inarguably. Azul was finally moving on, and didn't even hate Floyd as a result. Jade had gotten an entire night of Azul’s attention entirely to himself, in the same room as Jamil, something that would have been impossible a few weeks ago. It was over. Floyd had done what he'd said he’d do.

So that meant there was no point in continuing this thing with Jamil, right?

That thought was annoying, so he pushed it away. He would figure it out later. He was tired from all the dancing, and really just wanted to curl up in his bed and turn his brain off for a few hours.

He was almost to the Octavinelle mirror when he heard quick footsteps behind him, and he saw a flash of red in the reflection. He turned to face his pursuer curiously.

“Floyd, wait,” Jamil said, coming to a stop in front of him. He held up a bundle of fabric in his hands, which Floyd recognized as the letterman jacket he had lent him. “I forgot to give this back.”

Floyd huffed a laugh. “I told you not to worry about it, you didn't have to chase me down like that,” he said, but he reached for it regardless. Jamil didn't immediately let go. For a moment they stood like that, close together, connected by their grip on the jacket held between them.

Jamil pulled him in with surprising strength, catching Floyd off guard and causing him to stumble forward. He barely registered what was happening as he was pulled down by the collar of his shirt and his lips met the warm, soft skin of Jamil’s.

The kiss didn't last long. Floyd couldn't even comprehend it quickly enough to return it, and instead just remained uncharacteristically frozen in place until Jamil pulled back. Jamil’s face was flushed a deep red, and his expression bordered mortified, but he held Floyd’s gaze stubbornly.

After several weighted moments, Floyd allowed a slow, salacious grin to spread over his face. “You wanna come back to my room?” he asked, a bit dazed.

Jamil groaned exasperatedly. “Stop it. No,” he said firmly. He hesitated, before pressing another kiss to Floyd’s unsuspecting lips, this one much shorter than the last. “I have to go. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

He looked at Floyd expectantly, and Floyd nodded. “Yeah, sure,” he said. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Jamil said. He stepped away from Floyd, looking a bit regretful, sparing him one last glance before turning and disappearing once more into his dorm. Floyd stood in the mirror chamber for several minutes after he'd gone, staring blankly at the space Jamil had just occupied.

The walk back to his room was a blur. His mind felt like it had been put into a jar and shaken up; all he seemed to be capable of doing was reaching up and touching his lips over and over again, reveling in the tingling sensation that seemed to be permanently left behind.

When he entered the room, Jade was sitting up in bed scrolling through his phone. Floyd ignored him as he collapsed into his own bed, suit and all. He sprawled out on his back like a starfish and buried his face in his hands.

“Did you have a good time?” Jade asked casually. Floyd made an odd, strangled sound, unable to formulate any other response. “Ah, I see.”

“Jade,” Floyd said once his voice decided to work again. “Something really embarrassing happened.”

Jade made a small noise of surprise, putting down his phone and giving Floyd his full attention. “I don't think I’ve ever heard you claim to be embarrassed before,” he said curiously. “What is it?”

Floyd rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in his pillow and hoping his next words would suffocate and die in the fabric before they ever made it out into the world. “I have a crush,” he muttered as quietly as he could.

Jade’s only response was an amused chuckle, like he'd finally heard the punchline of a joke that had been building up for a long, long time.

Chapter Text

Floyd watched the clock on his bedside table move forward another minute. Five minutes until basketball practice.

Indecision was a sensation that was new to him. His world had always been relatively black and white; there were fun things and boring things, interesting things and annoying things, things he wanted and things he didn’t want. He’d never had any problem differentiating between them. Now, however, there were thoughts running through his mind that he’d never had to deal with before, like pros and cons and maybes and what-ifs.

Floyd never did anything he didn’t want to do. That had always been easy before. But now, he had no idea what he wanted. He wanted to see Jamil every minute of every day, and he never wanted to see him again. He wanted the feeling in his chest he got when he was around Jamil to go away, and he wanted it to give into it until it suffocated him. He wanted things to go back to the way they were, and he wanted everything to change.

It all started with basketball practice. Three minutes.

He sighed, hauling himself out of bed. He spared a glance at his gym bag, before opting to leave it in his closet as he headed out the door.

This was all Jade and Azul’s fault, really. They’d spread their cringey lovesickness to him like an infectious disease. If he’d just stayed out of it, none of this ever would have happened. But that had never been an option; they did everything together, always had and always would. They laughed together, they cried together, and now, apparently, they pined together. Gross.

It was worse with Azul, considering they not only shared the ailment, but the person. He thought back to freshman year, when he'd first started to suspect that Azul’s fascination for his classmate went beyond simple curiosity. It had put Floyd in a bad mood for a week straight, because back then he had thought that it was inevitable. Jamil and Azul were so alike; they were equally ambitious and secretive and crafty in all the ways Floyd would never be. They would make a perfect team. And that had pissed Floyd off, because… he hadn’t wanted to share Azul with anyone else? Something like that.

It wasn't until the events of winter break that he realized he'd gotten it all wrong. Jamil was like Azul, but he didn't want to be. It was in Azul’s nature to be scheming and underhanded and duplicitous, but Jamil was only that way because he had to be to survive. Jamil didn't like those qualities in Azul because he didn't like them in himself.

That was when Floyd had realized that, for once, Azul wasn't going to get what he wanted. Jamil was never going to accept what Azul was offering him. What he needed was a life where he could be honest, and unapologetically himself, and free. Just like Floyd.

The locker room was empty when Floyd arrived. Unsurprising, considering practice had started ten minutes ago. Floyd made his way to the block where his and Jamil’s lockers were, and laid down on the bench, facing the ceiling. He didn’t feel like playing basketball today.

Floyd had never considered the idea of a romantic relationship with someone before. He’d been interested in people, sure. He’d been interested in Azul from the moment they’d met him all those years ago. He’d been interested in Riddle since he knocked Floyd on his ass at the entrance ceremony. But that was all it was, interest. The desire to be around certain people and observe them and see how they’d react in any given situation. He’d thought that was all it was with Jamil, too. But now, suddenly, he was having thoughts he’d never had before; thoughts of waking up to Jamil’s sleeping face, of doing annoying things just to make him happy, of being by his side forever. Those things had all seemed gross and boring to him before, but with Jamil… they might be nice. Because Floyd knew Jamil. He knew he would never be needy or clingy, he would never expect or even want any of the typical romantic stuff, and most importantly, he would never expect Floyd to be anything but himself.

Maybe that was what Floyd wanted. Maybe it wasn’t. He didn’t know. But if it was what he wanted, and what Jamil wanted, it would work. That much he did know. They would work.

He must’ve gotten lost in thought, or maybe drifted off a bit, because before he knew it an hour had passed since practice had begun. He listened to the voices from the gym get louder as they approached the locker room door.

Floyd hummed to himself as his teammates brought a rush of conversation into the quiet room, waiting as a specific set of footsteps grew closer and closer to where he was laying. They slowed down to a stop near him, and he tilted his head back to meet a decided unimpressed expression. He grinned. “Heya.”

“Practice started an hour ago, you know,” Jamil said flatly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Floyd sat up and shrugged. “Didn't feel like going,” he said.

“Then why are you here?” Jamil asked as he moved to open his locker.

Floyd observed Jamil carefully, trying to get a read on his mood. He didn't seem awkward or uncomfortable like Floyd might have expected, or even confident like had been in the mirror chamber the night before. It was like nothing had even happened.

How annoying.

Floyd had spent the whole morning struggling to decide what he wanted, but it was suddenly so obvious that he could hardly believe he'd been conflicted at all. He stood quickly, turning Jamil by his shoulder so that his back was against the lockers, and kissed him.

Similarly to the night before, it didn't last long; Floyd let it linger just long enough to get the same head rush he had the first time. When he pulled away, Jamil’s eyes were wide with surprise. “Had to get you back,” Floyd said, answering the previously posed question.

“Floyd,” Jamil hissed, looking around in paranoia despite the fact that they were the only two in the area at the moment. “Not here.”

Floyd quirked an eyebrow at him. “Wanna go somewhere else then…?” he asked with a slow grin.

Jamil sighed, pushing Floyd away to free himself from where he'd been trapped against the lockers. Several beats of silence passed between them. “We have an exam in Crewel’s class tomorrow,” was Jamil’s eventual response.

Floyd blinked, his mind slow to adjust to the abrupt topic change. “Why’re you talkin’ about school?” he asked, confused.

“We should study for it,” Jamil continued, his expression calm, as if this was an entirely normal progression of the conversation. “Are you working in the lounge today?”

“Uhh,” Floyd said intelligently. “Azul kinda always expects me to be there, but it's not like I have to.”

Jamil nodded. “What about Jade?”

“Why're you talkin’ about Jade?”

For the first time, Jamil's calm demeanor cracked. He cleared his throat, breaking eye contact and becoming singly focused on changing his shoes. “I’m asking,” he said pointedly. “If, when we go to your room to study, we’ll be alone.”

Everything clicked in Floyd’s head, then, and an exhilarating combination of surprise and anticipation flooded through him. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Gotcha. He should be workin’, yeah,” he said, ignoring his instinct to tease Jamil for fear of him changing his mind. “I’ll make sure he is.”

Jamil hummed, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Alright,” he said, and the effort he was putting in to seem unaffected by the conversation was visible. “I have to shower and change, I’ll meet you in Octavinelle in around an hour?”

Floyd grinned salaciously. “I could always join you~” he said, unable to resist.

Jamil let out a slow breath through his nose, before shrugging. “Sure,” he said simply. “You can wash my hair for me, it’s a pain.”

Floyd stared at him, wide-eyed, his brain sputtering to a stop. While he struggled to come up with any kind of coherent response, Jamil smirked. “See you in an hour,” Jamil said, turning and walking out of the locker room without a backwards glance.

Floyd stayed frozen in place long after he left, his mind racing to comprehend what had just happened. Not only was Jamil suddenly unaffected by his ribbing, but now he was teasing him back? Floyd laughed once to himself in disbelief, running a hand through his hair.

No matter what happened next, Floyd knew one thing for certain: he would never, ever get bored of him.

—

“Is this how you usually study?” Floyd asked, pulling back to catch his breath. The whole breathing through your mouth aspect of human anatomy was especially inconvenient at times like these. “No wonder your grades aren't that good.”

Jamil glared down at him. He looked so pretty like this, hovering over Floyd with his knees on either side of Floyd’s hips, his face flushed and his mouth red and shiny. Floyd squeezed Jamil’s thigh in an attempt to convince himself that he was really here, that this was really happening.

“Even now, you don't know when to stop talking…” Jamil sighed, before leaning down and capturing Floyd’s lips once more.

Floyd gleefully held Jamil by the back of the neck and responded with enthusiasm. This wasn't like their first few unanticipated, spur-of-the-moment kisses; this time, they were both very active participants. Jamil’s breath was hot in his mouth, his hair ticklish on his skin, his thighs soft beneath his fingers. Floyd was rarely overwhelmed, but he thought the rush of sensations he was experiencing might kill him.

He nipped at Jamil’s lower lip, and the quiet moan he got in return made him feel giddy with adrenaline. He allowed himself a few more moments to bask in it before reluctantly pulling away once more. “Speakin’ of talking,” he said. “I think we probably should?”

Jamil paused from where he'd moved to kiss along Floyd's jawline, slowly moving back to look him in the face. “Seriously?” he said flatly.

Floyd shrugged, toying with the end of one of Jamil’s braids. “I mean, last I checked, you were all serious about nothing ever happening here,” he pointed out. “And then all of a sudden you were kissin’ me. I’m kinda getting mixed signals.”

With a heavy sigh, Jamil rolled off of Floyd and onto the sheets beside him. “…I know,” he said. He was quiet for a moment, as if mulling over how to explain himself. “It's not like anything has changed, but I guess I just… wanted to.”

Floyd grinned, throwing an arm over Jamil’s waist and resting his chin on his clavicle. “Trust me, that's a good enough reason for me,” he said. “Kinda surprised it is for you, though.”

“Yeah, well,” Jamil said, turning his face away slightly to hide his obvious embarrassment. “I've always told myself that I just have to put up with the way things are for the moment, and that I’ll have plenty of time to actually do the things I want to do later on. But I guess I realized this wasn't something I could put off. Because you… you're not later, you're right now. And I knew I either had to take it or I would lose it.”

With a groan, Floyd flopped onto his back once more, throwing an arm over his face. “You're gonna kill me, Sea Snake,” he whined. He reached out to snatch Jamil’s hand, holding it tightly against his chest. “Feel that? That’s not normal, right? I’m dying.”

There were a few beats of silence, and Floyd shifted his arm to glance at Jamil’s expression. He was staring at his hand where Floyd held it, something like amazement in his wide-eyed stare. “That's—” he started, before clearing his throat and quickly pulling away. “You're not dying. Your heart’s probably just beating fast because of… recent activities.”

“Nuh uh. It happens all the time around you,” Floyd argued. “Gotta be careful. I’m not like Azul, I only have one of these things.”

Jamil gave him a strange look, before sitting up, hugging his knees to his chest and toying at the hem of his pants distractedly. “Speaking of,” he said. “Maybe we should address the elephant in the room.”

“The what?” Floyd asked, unfamiliar with the phrase.

Jamil sighed, turned to face him. “How much does Azul know about… this?” He gestured between the two of them.

Floyd blinked. “Uh?” he said, thrown off by the question. “I mean, he knows I like you. Probably suspects you like me too since you were pretty obvious.”

He received a flat look in response, but otherwise the last part went ignored. “And his reaction?” Jamil asked tentatively.

At once, Floyd understood. “Ah,” he said. “You know about it, then.”

“Of course I know. He couldn't be less subtle,” Jamil said with an eye roll. He sighed again, his face pinched like he'd rather be doing anything in the world than have this conversation. “Look, if there's going to be a problem, tell me now. I have no interest in getting caught in the middle of something between the two of you.”

Floyd chuckled, sitting up as well and rubbing the back of his neck. “Waaay too late for that,” he muttered. “But, uh, I think he's okay with it. Or he's trying to be? I dunno, but we kinda hashed it out and I’m not gettin’ the vibes that he wants to strangle me anymore, so.”

Jamil hummed. “I didn't realize he was so generous,” he said, suspicious.

“Ah… ‘graceful loser’ might be a better name for it?” Floyd mused. He watched as Jamil’s expression soured, and leaned his cheek on his knee thoughtfully. “You think pretty badly of him, huh?”

Jamil scoffed. “He’s underhanded and superficial and couldn’t be shadier if he tried,” he said flatly. “There’s no way I could ever get along with someone like him.”

“Mm. Well, you’re not wrong,” Floyd said with a shrug. He smirked. “I’m pretty shady too, y’know.”

“I know,” Jamil deadpanned without hesitation. “But at least you're obvious about your intentions. I don’t feel like I need to keep my guard up around you, in any case.”

At that, Floyd fell silent, his mind trailing off as Jamil’s words settled in. Would he still feel that way if he knew exactly how they had gotten here in the first place? If he found out that it was, in fact, cruel intentions and underhanded scheming that had resulted in him being in Floyd’s bed right now? The thought filled Floyd with an odd sensation that he couldn’t put a name to. He’d been experiencing all sorts of new feelings lately.

After a few moments, Jamil turned to him, his eyebrows pressing together in concern. Floyd’s internalizations must have been obvious in his face. He did his best to tuck it away, relaxing his expression into what he hoped was something neutral. “I wouldn’t ever hurt you on purpose, Sea Snake,” he said seriously.

Jamil’s expression softened. He reached up, tucking Floyd’s dyed strand of hair behind his ear. “I know,” he said quietly.

They stayed like that for a moment, and Floyd took advantage of their closeness to observe the lines and curves of Jamil’s face. He’d never seen anything so pretty in his life; not in the fins of the mandarinfish he used to chase, or in the colorful sky lights he and Jade used to swim up to see at night, or in the twinkling luminescent bugs that had lit up the fields around the school during his first summer on land. In the end, did it really matter how it had started? It wasn’t a game anymore. Floyd didn’t care about Jade or Azul or their goals, all he cared about was that Jamil was looking at him, and he liked him so much he felt like he was drowning.

“Floyd,” Jamil said, his voice pulling Floyd out of his lovesick thoughts. He shifted uncomfortably. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Floyd responded with a weak chuckle. “Me either,” he admitted. “Might be kinda fun to figure it out together.”

They met in the middle, their lips sliding together once more. This kiss felt different, too; it was less frantic than before, and tasted sweet on Floyd’s tongue. He wondered how many different kinds of kisses he could bring out of Jamil. He wanted to know all of them.

A soft click came from the front of the room, so quiet that Floyd hardly even noticed it. And then, before he could register what was happening, there was a strong shove to the middle of his chest and he was falling backwards off of his bed and onto the floor.

“Ow,” he muttered, his legs somewhere near the top of his head.

“Oh, my apologies, I'd forgotten that you had company,” Jade said brightly from the doorway. Floyd rolled his eyes. Sure he had. “Don't mind me, I’m only grabbing some finance reports for Azul.”

Jamil cleared his throat, quickly getting off the bed and brushing himself off. “It's fine. We were just… studying,” he said awkwardly.

“So I see,” Jade chirped, far too amused.

Floyd repositioned his limbs so that he was sitting cross-legged on the floor, and fixed Jade with a glare. “Yeah, we’re busy, so get what you need and get lost,” he muttered.

“I should get going, anyway,” Jamil said, glancing at the clock on Floyd’s bedside table. “I didn’t realize it was getting so late.”

Floyd rested his chin on the edge of the bed, pouting across the sheets at Jamil. “Aww, Sea Snake, you don’t gotta leave,” he whined. “Just live here. I’ll kick Jade out.”

Jamil rolled his eyes, but his expression was fond when he looked at Floyd. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” he said. He looked like he wanted to say more, but with a glance at Jade, he stopped himself. He gathered up his books and cleared his throat once again. “Well, goodnight.”

Floyd watched, disappointedly, as Jamil brushed past Jade and headed out of their dorm room. Jade closed the door behind him. He raised an eyebrow in Floyd’s direction. “Things are going well, I take it?” he said casually as he moved to begin rifling through his desk.

With a noncommittal grunt, Floyd leaned against his bed, not bothering to get off the floor. “I guess,” he mumbled. “…I dunno. I’m getting this weird feeling.”

“We’ve been over this. It’s called being romantically attracted to someone,” Jade said offhandedly as he flipped through paperwork. “It’s not always entirely pleasant, I assure you.”

“No, no, this is different,” Floyd said frustratedly. “It’s like… feeling bad about something you did even though you haven’t even gotten in trouble for it?”

Jade blinked, pausing in his task and looking down at Floyd curiously. “Are you trying to say you feel guilty?” he asked, bemused. “Whatever for?”

Floyd groaned, hauling himself off of the floor and pacing in front of his bed agitatedly. “Why do ya think?” he said. “This whole thing started as a dumb game, don’t you think he’d be pissed if he found out?”

“I don’t see why he’d ever need to,” Jade said casually, his lack of concern obvious. “In any case, I was under the impression that there was no longer any deception involved on your part.”

“There’s not. I seriously like him,” Floyd said miserably. “And that’s why it sucks. Not tellin’ him feels like lying, and I don’t wanna lie to him, not when I finally got him to trust me. But how do you tell the person you like that you were only pretending to like him at first to force some other guy to stop pathetically pining after him? Ugh.”

“Well—” Jade started, before stopping abruptly, interrupted by a sound near the door. It was hardly anything at all, quiet enough to be almost imperceptible, but enough to freeze them both in their tracks. Floyd felt the hair on his arms raise, the deep-rooted instincts that informed him that there was a predator nearby kicking in.

They exchanged a glance. From his expression, it was obvious that Jade, like Floyd, had recognized not only that they weren’t alone, but also who, specifically, was on the other side of that door. They’d had years and years to recognize the scent.

Floyd moved slowly toward the door, every muscle in his body tensed and guarded. He reached for the handle, and opened it.

There, standing in the hallway, was Azul. The expression on his face was neutral, but there was something burning in his eyes that reminded Floyd of a shark when it smelled blood in the water. A few moments passed where they stood in silence, neither making the first move. Then, Azul’s face broke into a polite smile, and Floyd felt a chill go down his spine.

“Hello, Floyd,” Azul said calmly.

Floyd swallowed. “Azul,” he said. “How long have you been standing there?” He didn’t know why he bothered asking. He’d known the answer from the moment he’d opened the door.

“Long enough,” Azul replied simply. “I was only stopping by to let Jade know I located the paperwork I sent him to look for. That’s all. Goodnight.”

“Azul,” Floyd said, desperate, as Azul pivoted and began to walk away.

“The two of you can have the rest of the night off,” Azul called over his shoulder, his voice as cold as ice. And then he was gone.

Floyd closed the door slowly, feeling outside of himself with dread as he turned to face Jade. Jade’s expression was as carefully neutral as always, with only a slight pinch of his eyebrows betraying his concern.

“That isn’t good, is it?” Floyd asked, his voice sounding distant to his own ears.

“No,” Jade agreed. “That isn’t good.”

Chapter Text

Nothing ever really changed.

Azul stood in front of the mirror in his dorm room, glowering at his reflection. It didn’t matter how different the figure staring back at him was from the one who had before, it didn’t matter how much stronger or smarter or more capable he became. Nothing ever really changed. There had to be a reason, there had to be something in his innate disposition that made him so easy to laugh at and look down on. If his appearance or ability weren’t factors, then what? What more could he do? How many more shapes would he have to contort himself into to fit into the mold of someone who could be respected?

In the end, it was his own fault. Despite his every logical thought begging him to believe otherwise, he’d let himself fall into the delusion that Jade and Floyd were different. That they stayed by his side for reasons outside of their own amusement. Recent events had only cemented the reality that he should have already been certain of: he was nothing but a toy to them, one that they would simply toss to the side when the seams began to fray.

It hurt. He cursed himself for allowing it to dig into his chest and pierce the raw tissue of his hearts so absolutely, but he couldn’t pretend otherwise. He had thought they were different. He shouldn’t have, but he had.

In a way, he preferred Jamil’s outright scorn. That, at least, he’d had years to grow thick skin against. But this, the sensation of being secretly made a fool of from the shadows, was something his defenses had not quite been prepared for. What was the point? Was it so amusing to watch him struggle and squirm? Were his failures such a joy to behold?

That was it, then. His mistake had been allowing anyone close enough to see him fail. That was something he could change; he could keep his objectives closer to his chest, he could internalize his every intent and desire so that no one could ever witness him struggle to achieve them. If the only aspect of himself that he allowed to face the world was a successful one, there would be no room for anyone to ridicule him. Not ever again.

The final adjustment he needed to make to his reflection was to vow, once and for all, that he would only ever see himself standing alone. Easy enough. He had already come this far.

—

When Azul entered the classroom, he was both relieved and apprehensive to see that Jamil had arrived before him. He steeled his resolve and approached, claiming the seat beside him that was not occupied by Kalim.

“Good morning, Jamil-san, Kalim-san,” Azul greeted, pasting on a charming smile. Jamil didn't seem particularly enthused about the seating arrangement, but acknowledged Azul with a hum.

“Hey, Azul!” Kalim said brightly. “Are you ready for the exam today?”

“Always,” Azul confirmed. He turned to Jamil, not particularly in the mood for small talk. “There's something I need to speak to you about, Jamil-san. Do you have time to meet with me during lunch today?”

Jamil didn't even look up from his textbook to spare Azul a glance. “If you can’t say it to me right now, then I’m going to assume it's something suspicious that I want no part of,” he said dismissively.

Azul abruptly gave up on the smile he was forcing. He didn't know why he’d even bothered going the polite route, it had never worked before.

“Of course, how silly of me. Surely Kalim knows every detail of your recent endeavors,” he said, all traces of former friendliness gone from his tone. “He can hear anything I might say to you, regardless of the topic, yes?”

As expected, Jamil paled slightly at the implication. Azul had assumed that news of Jamil’s liaison was something that he would prefer not to reach Kalim, or by extension, his family back home. Azul hadn't intended to use his volatile situation as a means to an end, but he was far past the point of being nice.

“Huh?” Kalim asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion. “What's that mean?”

“Nothing,” Jamil said, too quickly. “He's just talking about a project we’re doing in alchemy.”

Kalim nodded, seemingly appeased by the answer, bizarrely. “Ahh, right,” he said. “Jamil's been putting a ton of work into that project, I feel like I’ve barely even seen him recently because he spends so much time outside of the dorm working on it!”

Jamil coughed into his hand, his skin quickly going from pale to scarlet. Azul scoffed to himself. “I’m sure he has,” he said flatly.

“Kalim, go over my notes. You still have a few minutes to study before class starts,” Jamil said, sliding his notebook toward Kalim. He turned back to Azul with a glower, lowering his voice. “I don’t have time today. Can we meet after classes tomorrow?”

Azul smiled once more, satisfied. “It’s a date,” he said, a bit spitefully.

The class went by quickly, and when the bell rang, Azul followed Jamil and Kalim out into the hallway. He had the next period free and planned to spend it balancing expenses for the lounge; something he would leave to Jade, normally. He would have to hire more help soon. He added the task to his extensive mental agenda.

Jamil paused as they exited the classroom, and Azul hung back in the shadows of the wall, observing. He followed Jamil’s gaze down the hallway, where he spotted what had clearly caught Jamil’s attention: the tall figure of Floyd, leaning against a pillar and scrolling through his phone.

Azul grimaced, shifting his gaze back to Jamil. There was an expression on his face that Azul had never seen, not once in the two years he has known him. The sight filled Azul with a certain feeling; not the jealous, spiteful one that he’d expected, but something different, something suffocating.

It was a nice look on him. Azul was frustrated by the thought.

“You’re okay getting to your next class, right?” he heard Jamil ask Kalim.

“‘Course! See you at lunch!” Kalim said, waving over his shoulder as he headed off. Jamil watched him leave, waiting until he turned a corner before heading in the opposite direction, toward Floyd.

Azul continued to stand against the wall, watching the proceedings closely. Jamil approached Floyd, who grinned brightly and tucked his phone into his pocket when he saw him. That same expression remained on Jamil’s face as they spoke. Azul bit his cheek until he tasted blood.

Then, Floyd looked up, and his gaze met Azul’s. Azul watched as Floyd's face froze, his eyes wide and smile strained. He made a small movement, like he was considering approaching Azul, before his eyes flickered toward Jamil once more and his expression became conflicted.

Azul didn't give him the chance to decide. He turned on his heel, proceeding in the opposite direction without so much as a backward glance.

—

“Wow. Giving up your queen two turns in is a super unique strategy. It’s almost as impressive as last game when you blundered like four moves in a row,” Idia drawled, leaning his head on his hand boredly. He lowered his voice. “Maybe Azul-shi is trying to break the record for worst chess performance of all time? Surely he's at least on the leaderboard at this point…”

“I get it,” Azul snapped, leaning back in his seat and rubbing his eyes under his glasses. He had barely been paying attention to the game, it was true; there were other matters on his mind. “Idia-san… there’s something I need to speak with you about.”

Idia grimaced. “Isn't the beauty of this club that we can just play games and not talk to each other…?” he muttered.

“It’s about Leona-san,” Azul said, as if he hadn't heard him.

Idia full-body cringed, leaning away and pulling his hood up. “Nuh uh, no way,” he said a bit frantically. “Didn’t we have an unspoken agreement that Idia the Dating Guru was a one-time limited run?! You can’t put me through that again… not even Azul-shi is that cruel…”

“Calm down,” Azul snapped, rolling his eyes. “Rest assured that I don’t consider you a reliable source of advice, nor have I ever.”

“O-oh,” Idia said, relieved. “Then what—”

“Your suspicions were correct all along,” Azul interrupted him, losing patience. He paused, carefully gauging Idia’s reaction. “Leona-san initially pursued you simply as a joke.”

Idia blinked slowly. “Wh—” he said, the ends of his hair turning a bit green. “What are you— what? How would you even know that?!”

“I know everything about everyone,” Azul reminded him.

Apparently accepting the response, Idia shrunk back in his chair, looking even more miserable than usual. “I knew it…” he muttered.

“That being said,” Azul continued calmly. “I also know for certain that despite his initial intentions, his feelings for you are presently genuine.”

There was a beat of silence, in which Idia stared at him expectantly. “Okay…?” Idia eventually said, confused.

“Well, are you glad that I told you this?” Azul asked, his voice coming out a bit more forcefully than he’d intended. “Are you relieved to know the truth, or would you have rather gone on not knowing? After all, as I said, it’s no longer a farce. You could have remained blissfully ignorant with no repercussions. So how do you feel?”

Idia shrunk into himself even further, half of his face becoming buried beneath the collar of his hoodie. “This is giving total final boss monologue vibes…” he said under his breath.

“Just answer the question.”

“Of course I wish you hadn’t told me!” Idia said, nearly startling Azul with his sudden loudness. He straightened up, playing with the ends of his hair anxiously. “Obviously it doesn’t feel good to know you were the butt of a joke! Not that I didn’t already know it was too good to be true, but seriously, to confirm it to my face like that… I think you might seriously be evil…”

Azul frowned. “I think your aggression might be misplaced,” he said. “I’m not the one who deceived you, I’m simply the bearer of bad news.”

Idia stared at him for a moment, his expression perplexed. “Azul-shi… I’m gonna tell you something, because I think you might not know,” he said seriously. “You’re a dick.”

Considering the mood he’d been in recently, Azul waited to be offended by the comment, but the expected indignation never came. Instead, he chuckled. The honesty was frankly refreshing. “Hm,” he said simply. “I see.”

He stood, gathering his things into his bag. Idia gaped at him. “Wh— you’re just gonna drop that and leave?” he said frantically.

“My apologies, I have responsibilities I need to attend to,” Azul said. “We can continue our game at the next club meeting.”

Idia scoffed. “Uh, it’s really in your best interest to pretend this game never happened,” he said dryly, holding up Azul’s captured queen. “It’s pretty much an auto L for you.”

Azul smiled, too politely to be genuine. “You underestimate my ability to make the pieces work in my favor,” he said simply. He turned toward the door, before pausing. “Oh, and for the sake of avoiding being killed by Leona-san at some point, I should tell you that everything I said before was a lie.”

“Huh?” Idia squeaked, looking rather exhausted by all the emotions he’d gone through in the past few minutes. “Then why would you say it?!”

Azul pursed his lips. The image of Jamil’s face from earlier flashed through his mind, the same way it had been all day. “Why indeed,” he said.

—

Azul Ashengrotto put his own self interest first. He had to in order to protect himself, and that wasn’t something that he desired to change. He refused to allow himself to be self-sacrificial for anyone else’s sake; it wasn’t as though anyone had ever done so for him.

His regular modus operandi in situations like this was to keep his cards close to his chest, and to play them only when it was most beneficial for him to do so. The problem, now, was that he wasn’t sure he stood to benefit at all. Telling Jamil would be revenge, plain and simple. Azul had always found the concept rather tasteless. He much preferred to instill regret and doubt in his enemies, to use his intelligence and resilience as a tool until there was no doubt of his superiority. Pettiness and spite accomplished nothing beyond brief, pointless gratification.

That was all his hesitation could be attributed to. It had nothing to do with Jamil or Floyd. After all, why should he allow whatever feelings he had for them to sway him, when they thought so little of him in return?

A knock on his office door tore him from his thoughts, and he looked up from the paperwork he had been staring at unseeingly with a frown. He didn’t answer, well aware of who was on the other side.

“Azuuul,” Floyd whined. “C’mon, let me in.”

Azul grit his teeth, turning his attention back to his work and doing his best to shut it out. If Floyd had any decency at all, he would take the hint and leave him alone.

He should have known better.

There was a loud bang as the door burst open and ricocheted off of the adjacent wall, causing Azul to nearly jump out of his skin. Floyd stood in the doorway, looking a bit meek in contrast to his forceful entrance. Azul glowered at him.

“You’ll be paying to have that repaired,” he said coldly.

Floyd waved him off, closing the partially-splintered door behind him as he approached Azul’s desk. “Sure, whatever. I’ll renovate your whole office,” he said. “You just gotta talk to me.”

“No, thank you,” Azul said, standing and making his way toward the door.

Floyd grabbed him firmly by the bicep as he walked past, and Azul rounded on him, teeth bared. “Fine, if you don’t wanna talk, then hit me or something,” Floyd said, grimly serious. “Anything is better than the silent treatment. I’m goin’ crazy here, Azul.”

“No,” Azul hissed. “Let go of me, now.”

Floyd held firm. “I challenge you for the housewarden seat, then,” he said.

“What? Don’t be ridiculous,” Azul grit out, attempting to wrench his arm out of Floyd’s grasp. He was stronger than Floyd was, but it was an unstoppable force meeting an unmovable object; when Floyd had his mind set on something, he couldn’t be swayed, physical limitations be damned.

“I mean it,” Floyd said. “If you refuse, I win by default, and I’m housewarden. That’s how it works, right?”

Azul was well aware that he was being baited, but at the very idea of losing his status, of losing to Floyd again, caused everything that had been building within him to overflow. “Fine,” he said.

He stopped resisting, took a deep breath, and threw a right-hook at Floyd with all of his strength.

Floyd stumbled back, catching himself on the edge of Azul’s desk. He held a hand to his cheek, but he looked almost relieved, which only served to piss Azul off further. He approached Floyd and grabbed him by his lapels, forcing him down to his knees to accommodate for their height difference.

“Fight back,” Azul said, hardly recognizing his own voice for all of its malice. “This is what you wanted, right? To take this from me? To take everything from me because I’m weak and pathetic and you can? So do it, then! Fight back!”

Floyd just stared up at him, his expression maddeningly calm despite the furious bruise already forming on his cheekbone. “I never wanted to fight with you,” he said with a frown. “I didn’t want any of this, I just…”

“Just what?” Azul demanded. “Thought you would amuse yourself at my expense? Well, I do hope that it was worth it. Let me make myself very clear, Floyd. This is my office and my lounge and my dorm, all things that I worked for and achieved on my own, and you are no longer welcome to any of them. How’s that, then? Do you still feel superior? Is it still funny?”

Floyd deflated, until he was being held up almost entirely by Azul’s grip. For the first time in recent memory, he looked small.

“I’m sorry,” Floyd said quietly.

The door opened once again, much more calmly than the last time. Jade entered, his usual polite air about him, but a quiet storm behind his eyes. “That’s enough, Azul,” he said, even but forceful.

Azul released Floyd, who let himself drop into a seated position. He smoothed out the front of his suit with his throbbing hand. “So arrives the accomplice,” Azul greeted bitterly. “I was wondering when you would show up to defend your brother.”

“On the contrary, it’s Floyd who is defending me,” Jade explained simply. “It was my idea. All of it, from the beginning. Please direct your wrath in my direction instead.”

For lack of a better response, Azul laughed, a bit hysterically. “Oh?” he said. “And, pray tell, what could possibly be your motivation for doing so?”

“Jade…” Floyd muttered from the floor.

Jade ignored him, keeping his attention firmly fixed on Azul. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and when they opened again, a fierce determination burned behind them. “I’m in love with you,” Jade said calmly. “And I wanted you to choose me.”

Time itself seemed to still as the three of them fell into silence, broken only by the sound of Azul’s heartbeat in his ears. Jade’s form slowly became tinted with red in his vision, as if the two of them were swimming through blood-filled waters. He took a deep breath, then two.

He was a fool for allowing himself to be caught off guard. How could he, of all people, have underestimated the cruelty of others? But it was beyond what he had anticipated; not Jade, not this.

He wouldn’t rise to the bait, not this time. He knew when he was being made fun of. He’d had years to hone the skill.

Very calmly, he brushed his hair back into place and adjusted his gloves. He fixed Jade with a cold smile. “Go to hell,” he said simply.

He stalked out of his office, slamming the door behind him on the way out.

—

Azul stood in front of the fountain in the courtyard, staring at his reflection in the water.

He’d considered not coming. He’d considered coming up with some alternate excuse for the meeting, something mundane and trivial that Jamil would surely roll his eyes at. But that had been before. Things were different now; he didn’t care about consequences or tact anymore, he just wanted someone to hurt the way he did.

He heard footsteps approaching him, and a figure appeared beside his in the water's surface. He didn’t turn, only continued to stare into his own eyes.

“Okay, I’m here,” Jamil’s voice spoke from beside him, rather exasperatedly. “What do you want?”

Azul closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He turned to Jamil, and he spoke.

Chapter Text

“…Jamil?”

Jamil sat up in a panic, his sleep-disoriented brain trying to get a grasp of his surroundings. He fumbled around for his bedside lamp, wincing as light flooded the room. “Wh’ happened?” he asked groggily. “Did I sleep through my alarm?”

“Uh, no… it’s 6pm,” Kalim said, staring at him in wide-eyed surprise. “Were you taking a nap? I’ve never seen you do that before…”

Jamil blinked slowly, trying to regain his bearings. Now that he thought about it, he did remember deciding to lay down for a moment, after…

There’s something you should know. It’s about Floyd.

He shook his head with a grimace, rubbing at his blurry eyes. “I had a headache,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Sorry.”

“It’s fine! I just got worried when you didn’t answer your phone, so I let myself in,” Kalim said casually. Jamil glanced at his phone. There were indeed a few missed calls from Kalim, as well as several other messages that he pointedly swiped away. “I figured I’d wake you up so you didn’t miss club practice. It starts soon, right?”

Anxiety gripped Jamil at the very mention of basketball club, but he did his best to shove it deep down, frustrated by the reaction. “It was canceled,” he said shortly.

Kalim pressed his eyebrows together in confusion. “Huh, that’s weird,” he said. “I could’ve sworn I saw Ace in his PE uniform heading toward the gym a few minutes ago…”

Jamil clenched his jaw, pushing his covers away and getting up, squeezing his eyes shut against the sudden vertigo. “I guess it was uncanceled then,” he said bitterly, unwilling to put any further effort into the excuse. It was fine, he could go. Everything was going to be fine.

I’m under the impression that it was more at my expense than yours, but nonetheless…

A flash of pain shot through Jamil’s head, and he grabbed the trim of his closet for balance, pressing his other hand against his temple. Kalim was at his side in an instant, face etched with concern. “Jamil? Are you okay?” he asked frantically. “If you’re not feeling well you really shouldn’t go, just text Floyd and—”

“I’m fine,” Jamil grit out. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just get your homework done while I’m gone, I’ll make dinner when I get back.”

Kalim continued to stare at him worriedly, clearly unconvinced. “Um, alright…” he said. “But if there’s anything you wanna talk about…”

“There isn’t. Don’t ask again,” Jamil said firmly, grabbing his gym bag out of the closet and throwing it over his shoulder. “I’ll be back soon.”

He spent the walk to the gym trying his best to think about nothing at all. In an ideal world, Kalim would have just left him alone for once and let him sleep. At least when he was unconscious he could avoid the endless repetition of Azul’s words looping through his mind.

If you’re anything like me, and I suspect that you are, I’m certain you don’t take kindly to being played with.

He grit his teeth until his jaw ached. No, he wasn’t going to allow himself to fret over this, he refused. Every second he spent thinking about it from this point forward was just a waste of his time. That was all the entire thing had been, a stupid waste of time.

He hesitated once he arrived at the locker room door, but only for a moment. He took a deep breath and entered.

Practice had already started about five minutes before, so the locker room was empty. At least it appeared to be, until Jamil turned the corner and froze in his tracks at the sight of a figure sitting on the bench near his locker.

It was all just a game.

“Hey, Sea Snake,” Floyd said, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. The expression on his face was uncharacteristically wary. “I waited for ya.”

Jamil barely looked at him, just headed to his locker, ignoring the way his hands shook slightly against the combination. “You didn’t have to,” he said, his voice carefully even.

Floyd didn’t speak for a few moments, and it took all of Jamil’s effort not to squirm under the gaze on his back. “…Shit,” Floyd finally breathed. “I guess you talked to Azul.”

Jamil clenched his jaw and turned around to face Floyd fully for the first time. At the sight of him, all of the poise Jamil had intended to uphold immediately vanished, and he couldn't help the startled gasp that escaped him. “What happened to you?” he asked in alarm, momentarily forgetting about everything else.

Floyd rubbed the back of his neck, turning his face away slightly to hide the deep purple bruise on his left cheekbone. “Ah…” he said. “I talked to Azul, too.”

“Azul did that?!” Jamil asked in disbelief. He couldn’t imagine Azul hitting anyone, let alone Floyd. While Azul certainly hadn't seemed happy when they'd spoken, Jamil hadn't imagined he was upset to such an extent. After all, to Jamil’s knowledge, this was just what the Octavinelle trio did. They plotted and they schemed and they antagonized each other. It was why he hadn't wanted to get involved with any of them in the first place.

“Aha, yeah, he got me good,” Floyd said with a strained smile. He let out a long, heavy sigh. “I fucked up bad, Sea Snake.”

Jamil blinked, surprised. The expression on Floyd’s face was unmistakably guilty, which was… not what he had expected. He'd been anticipating something along the lines of haha, you totally fell for it, Sea Snake~, and Jamil would make himself brush it off and act like none of it mattered, because none of it had mattered.

He would've preferred it that way. Being pitied by Floyd, of all things, just made it all the more mortifying.

“Look, I don't know what Azul told you, but it wasn't even my idea,” Floyd continued sulkily. “I felt weird about it from the beginning, but Jade is annoyingly good at talking me into stuff… anyway, I pretty much forgot about it right away, I was just havin’ fun hanging out with you. I don't know if you're thinkin’ it was all fake or whatever, but it wasn't. I mean it.”

Jamil exhaled slowly through his nose. “Mm,” he hummed noncommittally. “Okay. It’s fine.”

Floyd just stared at him for a moment, shifting a bit fretfully. “…You're not mad?” he asked when it was clear Jamil wasn't going to say anything further.

“No,” Jamil confirmed, and it was true. Frustrated and humiliated, absolutely, but not mad. Not at Floyd, anyway. If anything, he was angry at himself.

He'd known better. From the beginning, he’d told himself that he couldn't trust Floyd, not even as a friend. Why had he forgotten that along the way? Why hadn't he just let Floyd’s advances roll off his back like he'd always done with Azul’s? He’d known better.

He was the absolute last person who should have been susceptible to a plot as utterly ridiculous as this, yet he’d fallen for it anyway. Once again, the three of them had managed to hit him from his blind spot.

His mistake. He wouldn't make it ever again.

“So…” Floyd said, observing him carefully. “We're cool, then?”

Jamil shrugged. “Yeah,” he said casually, turning back to his locker. “Let's just forget any of this happened and move on.”

Floyd was quiet while Jamil dug through his bag. When he finally spoke again, he sounded different; withdrawn, and bored almost, like he often did when he was in a particularly unenthusiastic mood. “‘Kay,” Floyd said.

Jamil’s fingers closed on what he'd been searching for, and he turned around again, tossing the small bottle to Floyd. Floyd caught it dully. “It's a healing salve. Put it on your face,” Jamil instructed, and then he headed onto the court without a backwards glance.

Practice went by in a blur. Floyd attempted maybe one free throw before he lost interest and moved to sulk on the bleachers, and Jamil did his best to ignore him and direct all of his focus toward basketball. Ace kept shooting strange looks to the two of them, but he must have seen something on Jamil’s face that discouraged him from asking, because for once he chose to mind his own business.

Jamil practically ran back to Scarabia once the club meeting ended. The sooner he got back and finished his nightly chores, the sooner he could go to sleep. He just wanted to sleep.

“Hey Jam…il?” Kalim began to greet, before trailing off in confusion as Jamil rushed past him.

Don't follow me Jamil begged in his head. He didn't entirely understand why, but he needed to be alone in his room, now. The urgency grew as he made his way through the dorm, until he practically burst through his door, gripping his bed frame tightly as he attempted to catch his breath.

His vision was blurring. His throat felt thick and itchy. He just had to lay down for a minute; he'd probably overexerted himself at practice. Just for a minute.

“Jamil…?” Kalim said, letting himself into the room before the door had even closed fully behind Jamil. Because of course he'd followed him. “Is something going on?”

“No,” Jamil hissed, mortified at the way his voice broke. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly. “Just… give me a minute… please.”

Instead of obeying, Kalim placed an unsure hand on one of Jamil’s shoulders, and only then did Jamil realize they were shaking. “Sorry, but I’m not leaving until you tell me what's wrong,” Kalim said firmly. “You're kind of scaring me.”

Jamil took a deep, shaky breath. “It’s nothing, it’s… it’s stupid, I don’t know why I’m—”

“Is it about Floyd?”

Jamil looked up, surprise momentarily distracting him from whatever ridiculous meltdown he was in the middle of. “Why do you say that?” he asked, wincing at the sound of his own voice.

Kalim shrugged. “I dunno, you guys have seemed kind of close lately,” he said. “And you just came back from basketball club, so I thought maybe you had a fight…”

Of course Kalim would choose the most inconvenient time to actually be observant for once. Jamil sighed, reaching up to rub at his eyes. If his hands came away slightly damp, he chose not to acknowledge it. “I… yeah. It’s about Floyd,” Jamil said, giving in tiredly.

Kalim frowned. “Did he do something really bad?” he asked nervously. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Jamil closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, feeling his resolve disappear completely. “We were… I guess I sort of have feelings for him,” he admitted miserably. There was no point in sugar-coating it, or even pretending it was in the past tense. It wasn’t like bottling it up was doing him any good, if his current state was anything to go by. It didn’t even matter anymore if it got back to his or Kalim’s parents. It was over. “But he’s an asshole, and his friends are assholes, and I just want to forget about all of it.”

Miraculously, Kalim fell silent. Jamil moved to sit at the edge of his bed, collecting himself while he waited for a response. This wasn’t a conversation he particularly wanted to have with anyone, least of all Kalim, but… trying to bury it just made him feel more pathetic, somehow. It wasn't like he could hide away in shame, anyway; the worst people in the world to expose any weaknesses to already knew. They always seemed to.

“…Whoa,” Kalim breathed, finally. He looked at Jamil in wonderment. “You liked a white guy?”

For lack of a better response, Jamil let out a startled chuckle, which quickly escalated in a full-on fit of laughter. Kalim eventually joined in, confused and tentative, and that only made Jamil laugh harder. He laughed until tears flowed freely down his cheeks and his breath came out in hiccups.

It was just like Kalim to dilute it down to high school crush drama. And honestly, wasn’t that all it was? Wasn’t Jamil just overreacting like he always did?

He realized, in that moment, that he was glad he’d told Kalim. He’d forgotten what it was like to have someone to talk to. Someone to remind him that not everything was as serious as it seemed to be in his head, that the entire world wasn’t going to come crashing down around him.

“Um,” Jamil said once he'd calmed down, sniffing and wiping at his eyes. “Anyway, I’m fine. I’ll get over it. I just wasn't expecting it, which was naive of me.”

Kalim frowned. “Are you sure you two can't work it out?” he asked hesitantly. “You looked really happy with him at the prom…”

“I’m sure,” Jamil said firmly, ending the conversation. He stood and pulled himself together. “I’m gonna take a shower and then I’ll make dinner, okay?”

Kalim nodded. “Sounds good,” he said. He paused while Jamil gathered his shower supplies. “…Hey Jamil?”

“Hm?” Jamil acknowledged.

“So like… did you kiss him?” Kalim asked, without a hint of shame.

Jamil groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Ugh, do you have any capacity for tact whatsoever?” he asked in disbelief. “I obviously don’t want to talk about it.”

Kalim grinned a bit sheepishly. “Aw, come on, I’ve never heard you say you liked someone before! I wanna know the details!” he said, bouncing a bit on Jamil’s mattress restlessly. “Is that your type then? Tall, muscular… or are you into the fish thing, maybe…?”

Jamil slammed the door shut behind him before Kalim could see the exasperated smile on his face.

—

He saw the tall shadow fall over his textbook, but he scowled and continued reading as if he hadn’t; he knew who it was without looking. The same person who had been watching him intently from the corner of the library since Jamil had sat down.

“Good afternoon,” came the calm, disarming voice of Jade Leech. “May I sit here?”

“No,” Jamil said shortly. “I’m not interested in talking to you.”

Jade chuckled and took the empty seat across from Jamil anyway, to Jamil’s irritation but none of his surprise. “My, what hostility,” Jade said, infuriatingly amused. “Have I done something to offend you, Jamil-san?”

Jamil looked up, then, fixing Jade with a flat stare. Jade appeared unaffected by his obvious displeasure; delighted by it, even. “You know, it’s funny. I think I can count the number of times I’ve spoken to you on one hand,” Jamil said coldly. “Yet you seem to be under the impression that you’re free to involve yourself in my life.”

Jade seemed to consider that, folding his hands in front of him thoughtfully. “Hm. There seems to be a misunderstanding,” he said, his eyebrows coming together sympathetically. “Your ties to both Floyd and Azul guarantee my involvement as well, I’m afraid. Your business became mine the moment I became aware of their feelings for you.”

Jamil laughed bitterly. “Therein lies the problem,” he muttered.

“Pardon?”

“I’m not just a pawn in the ridiculous games you all play with each other,” Jamil snapped. “From the beginning I suspected that I couldn’t associate myself with Floyd without having to worry about you and Azul whispering in his ear at every turn for your own gain or amusement, and now I know it for certain. I just want all three of you to leave me the hell alone.”

Jade’s smiling eyes flashed a bit. “I see,” he said. “You seem to be quite confident in your impression of us.”

“You’ve hardly proven me wrong,” Jamil said flatly.

“Well, for the sake of fairness, may I share my impression of you?” Jade asked politely. Though his expression didn’t change in any notable way, there was suddenly a clear sense of hostility in the sharp edges of his features. “You are arrogant, and self-righteous, and egregiously judgemental. Day after day I watch as you turn your nose up at others, even those who hold obvious affection for you, and it fills me with a level of contempt which I’ve rarely experienced before. I have never once felt that you were deserving of the way my brother and Azul look at you.”

Jamil just stared, his emotions quickly cycling through indignation and fury and hurt before finally settling at exhaustion. Was this why Jade had approached him? To put him down even further? Whatever. He couldn’t summon up the energy to care anymore.

“Is that all?” Jamil asked darkly.

“Not quite,” Jade continued, undeterred. “All of that being said, I still attempted to create a situation in which my brother would be forced to pursue his feelings for you. Though I won’t pretend my motives were entirely altruistic, I assure you that the idea of having to share someone so dear to me with you was not entirely to my amusement. There lies one of many flaws in your presumptions.”

Jamil frowned, fixating inadvertently on a specific implication of Jade’s words. “Wait. That doesn’t make sense,” he said. “What do you mean ‘pursue his feelings?’ Azul said—”

“Azul, and indeed Floyd himself, can share your flaw of stubborn blindness at times,” Jade explained, tone gentle despite the blunt analysis. “But I assure you that Floyd’s interest in you never needed to be falsified. My interference only opened his eyes to what was already there.”

Jamil blinked. “Oh,” he said.

Jade’s smile changed again, this time becoming a bit melancholic. “That misunderstanding is, unfortunately, the root of Azul’s current ire,” he said regretfully. “Had he maintained the impression that Floyd’s feelings for you were always legitimate, there would be no bad blood to speak of. In fact, he had gracefully stepped aside after seeing the two of you together, despite the feelings for you that we’re both resentfully aware of. To surrender his pursuit in the name of Floyd’s happiness is quite out of character for him, yes? At least according to your interpretation.”

Jamil sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “What is this, Jade?” he asked tiredly. “Are you trying to convince me that you’re upstanding people? That you never have ill intentions, and I have no reason to be wary of you?”

“Oh, certainly not,” Jade refuted, chuckling a bit. “Your presumptions aren’t entirely wrong by any means. But can you claim to be entirely good yourself? Can anyone? Perhaps some things are worth enduring.”

Jamil pursed his lips, reluctantly allowing Jade’s words to reach him. He thought of Floyd, who had offered to help Kalim study, who had sacrificed his dinner to spare Jamil a night of cooking, who had been understanding each and every time Jamil had needed to prioritize Kalim over him. He’d endured Jamil’s baggage without complaint time and time again, so why was it so difficult for Jamil to do the same? When had he become so guarded that he could barely see past the walls he’d built up?

“I don’t… want to make myself vulnerable,” Jamil admitted frustratedly. He no longer knew if he meant vulnerable to their antics, or vulnerable to Floyd. He supposed it didn’t really matter.

“That is something you'll have to work through on your own. I only ask that you consider the situation from all angles before making your decision,” Jade said, straightening up in his seat. “I’ll leave you with this final sentiment. Despite what you may perceive as nothing but underhanded methods and needling, Floyd, Azul and I truly have each other’s best interests at heart.”

Jamil raised an eyebrow, his mind racing to understand what exactly that was supposed to reassure him of. “Okay?” he said, unmoved. “That’s great for you.”

Jade chuckled again, though Jamil could vaguely sense that beneath the amusement he would be happy to bludgeon Jamil with his textbook. “Association with Floyd guarantees association with us as well, as you’ve pointed out so disdainfully,” Jade explained simply. “Perhaps that concept isn’t as terrible as it seems.”

With that, Jade stood and excused himself, leaving the weight of a hundred doubts on Jamil’s shoulders as he went.

Chapter Text

Azul’s mind was static, his hands and mouth moving without any input from his brain. He was used to this feeling. Over the years, he’d carefully perfected the art of working himself raw, until he felt like he was outside of his body, until the only concepts that existed to him were work faster and try harder and do more.

“Your wait should be around thirty minutes,” Azul said robotically, working on auto-pilot as he attempted to simultaneously mark down the guest’s name and update the seating chart. “You’ll receive a text message from us when your table is ready.” He moved to his tablet while he greeted the next guest, repeating the same lines like a pre-recorded tape as he sent out a notification to the next patron on the list.

A tug on his elbow interrupted his concentration, and he turned to the source irritably. “Azul-kun, table five still hasn’t gotten their food and they’re gettin’ all pissy,” Ruggie Bucchi said, looking about as flustered as Azul must have himself. “I checked in with the kitchen and I think they might have gotten some orders mixed up…”

Azul sighed heavily, handing off his tablet to Ruggie. “Take over for a moment,” he instructed. “I’ll be right back.”

“Wh— I can’t, I have like six tables!” Ruggie argued, but Azul ignored him, pushing through the crowd and making his way to the main dining area.

He made his way toward table five, moving as quickly as he could on two legs. Before he could get there, however, he was interrupted by a call from a nearby table. “Hey, manager!” the voice summoned him, belonging to some unfamiliar Heartslabyul first-year. “I ordered a regular soda, this is diet.”

Azul put on his best customer service smile. “My apologies. I’ll bring you a new drink right away,” he said politely, taking the offending beverage.

Normally in situations like this, he would send Jade off to find the waiter who had dared to make such an error so that he could dock their pay for the evening. But Jade wasn’t here, a fact that became increasingly apparent as the night progressed, and Azul hardly had time to worry about crime and punishment at the moment. Currently, his only concern was making sure his restaurant didn’t burn down before the end of the night.

He finally reached table five, his forced smile expanding until he could feel his eye twitch. “I’m so sorry about your wait,” he said, bowing apologetically. “There seems to have been a mix-up in the kitchen, I’m on my way to solve it now. Can I refill your drinks in the meantime?”

Azul took down three more drink orders in his mind, offering another apology before he headed toward the kitchen. He stopped at the bar first, fully intending to deliver the drink orders to the bartender so they would be ready when he got back, but it was empty. With a groan, he recalled that he’d had Ruggie tending the bar as well. Drinks were Floyd’s responsibility, normally. Waving the thought away, he set down the cup in his hands and, resolving to come back and do it himself once he’d sorted out the food situation, headed into the kitchen.

“Where is table five’s order?” he demanded as he entered, catching the attention of the two chefs he’d managed to employ, both inexperienced underclassmen.

One of them, a Scarabia freshman who Azul desperately hoped had learned a thing or two from his vice housewarden, quickly began shuffling through order forms. “Uh, I don’t have a ticket for table five…” he said meekly.

“Oh, shit, that was the one that got accidentally taken to table three,” the second chef said. “They ate some so we have to remake it, I totally forgot. I’ll get on it now.”

“Make it a priority,” Azul said tiredly, taking an additional second to enjoy the quiet of the kitchen before heading back out into the main area.

He returned to the bar, dumping the incorrect drink order before getting to work on the new ones, balancing all four drinks in his hand and weaving through the crowd to deliver them to their respective tables. He felt sweat roll down his back as he moved under the ambient lighting.

It wasn’t that he was unused to wearing so many hats at the lounge, but rather that despite having only two fewer employees, it somehow felt as though they were criminally understaffed. No matter, he would simply have to recruit more in the future. There was certainly no deficit of students wishing to make money without leaving the grounds of the school. He just had to make it through tonight, that was all. Just tonight.

“Hey, I got everyone who was waiting marked down, but I had to get back to my tables,” Ruggie told him as he passed by, three trays balancing precariously on his arms. “Did table five get their food?”

“It should be ready shortly, keep checking in with the kitchen,” Azul said. The state of a nearby table caught the corner of his eye, and he did a double take. “Is no one bussing tables?”

Ruggie mumbled something that vaguely resembled I don’t know, before promptly leaving Azul to deal with the problem himself. Azul cursed under his breath and gathered the dirty dishes, before quickly heading back to the kitchen to put them in the sink and grab the cleaning supplies.

“Is table five’s order ready?” he asked the kitchen staff offhandedly on his way out.

“Almost done,” he was reassured.

Once he’d finished clearing the empty table, he rushed back to the host stand. A sizable line had formed in his absence. “I apologize for the wait,” he said, picking up his marker and quickly making the necessary adjustments to the seating chart. “How many will be dining tonight?”

Azul once again lost himself in the greeter role, getting each patron on the list in record time. Once everyone waiting had been accounted for, he headed back into the dining room, adopting the role of manager once more as he checked on the state of things.

“Azul-kun! Can you take care of these drink orders?” Ruggie said, exhaustion clear on his face as he waved a drink list toward Azul. “I've got a party of eight over here, I haven't had time to get behind the bar.”

Azul glanced toward the host stand to make sure no one was waiting, before taking the list from Ruggie with a sigh of acknowledgement, making his way toward the bar.

“Excuse me? Manager?” someone called for him as he passed, and he slowed to a stop. “Can we get refills please?”

Azul blinked, the scene before him processing slowly in his mind. There were three empty cups in front of each person at the table. He took note of his location, and the realization hit him with the force of a crashing wave.

He was at table five.

“Have you… still not gotten your food?” he asked in disbelief, the words tasting like ash in his mouth.

The three occupants of the tables shook their heads, and Azul no longer sensed any anger or frustration from any of them, only a grim sense of defeat. He took a deep, shaky breath.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, his voice unfamiliar to his own ears.

He charged toward the kitchen, vaguely thinking that he'd failed in his mission to keep everything from burning down, because he was surely going to explode at any moment and take the whole lounge with him. He burst through the doors, barely able to see through the red in his vision.

“Where is table five’s fucking order?!” he said, in a rare display of complete and utter classlessness.

The response to his inquiry, however, was entirely calm. Bored, even. “Chill. I’ve got it right here,” a familiar voice said.

Azul’s blood ran cold, immediately dousing all of the anger inside of him and replacing it with shock. He blinked, the haze of fury clearing from his vision, and locked eyes with the unenthusiastic form of Floyd Leech.

“Got two and seven here too,” Floyd continued, voice flat and unamused. “Should be all caught up I think.”

Azul continued to stare at him for several beats, suddenly overcome with relief despite himself. He cleared his throat and attempted to put on an unbothered front. “Didn’t I fire you?” he asked shortly, in a beautiful display of self-sabotage.

Floyd scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Uh, not really, you just yelled at me and punched me in the face,” he said dully. His gaze moved toward Azul’s hand. “Are those drinks? I can get ‘em real quick if you take these orders out to the tables.”

“Why?” Azul said, utterly floored. It was obvious just by looking at him that Floyd wasn't in a particularly good mood, so why would he be here, helping Azul, now? After all, he had assumed that at this point, Floyd would be just as angry with Azul as Azul was with him.

Floyd scowled. “Don't be a pain in the ass,” he said bluntly. “I’m so over this. I hurt your feelings, you told Jamil everything and ruined my life, aren't we even now?”

Azul’s eyes widened. “I— what did you just say?” he asked, startled.

Floyd raised an eyebrow. “Um,” he said. “You're a pain in the ass?”

Azul stared at him, perplexed. Had he really not even noticed? It had thrown Azul so completely that the topic of their dispute went completely forgotten. After all, he couldn't remember the last time he'd heard an actual name come out of Floyd’s mouth other than Jade's or his own, if ever.

The pieces clicked into place in Azul’s head. He set it aside; for the moment, at least.

“Nevermind,” he said, waving Floyd off. “Yes, I would appreciate it if you could fill these drink orders.”

Floyd nodded, taking the list dully and pushing past Azul toward the kitchen exit. Azul might have said more, but Floyd was clearly in an irritable state, and it probably wasn't the best time. Besides, there was work to be done.

The night went much more smoothly with Floyd’s assistance. Once they had successfully ushered out the final patron and locked up, Azul nearly collapsed at a table in relief.

“No offense, dude, but there's no way I’m staying to clean tonight,” Ruggie informed him tiredly, taking off his apron and dumping it on the table in front of Azul. “I’m beat.”

Azul exhaled deeply, looking around the lounge to assess the damage. It wasn't so terrible; he could do it himself, surely, but he still had to catch up on the bookkeeping lest he fall behind schedule. It would be a miracle if he got any sleep at all as it was.

“I’ll pay you time and a half,” he said, wincing at the very prospect.

“Make it double,” Ruggie bartered.

With an eye roll, Azul nodded, waving him away. “Whatever,” he muttered.

Ruggie grinned wickedly. “Roger that, boss,” he said, getting to work promptly. At least Ruggie could always be counted on, so long as there was enough money involved.

Azul closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, allowing himself a few moments of rest before he got back to work. He didn't bother to look when he heard footsteps approaching him.

“Are you dead?” he heard Floyd’s dry voice from somewhere above him. “You seriously need to work on your stamina, dude, we've had way worse rushes than this.”

Reluctantly, Azul opened his eyes, if only to glare at the boy hovering over him. “Duly noted,” he said listlessly. He groaned and forced himself to stand. “…Thank you for your help tonight, Floyd.”

Floyd yawned. “Yep,” he said. “I’m going to bed. Seeya.”

Azul watched him go a bit regretfully, but shook himself out of it, crossing the lounge toward his office. His work was never truly done.

He paused before the door, staring at the dim lamp light seeping through the crack with apprehension. It didn’t take him entirely by surprise; he’d had his suspicions since the moment he’d seen Floyd in the kitchen. There was a low likelihood that he’d made that decision on his own.

Azul took a moment to allow his rapid heartbeats to settle, before turning the doorknob and stepping inside.

A wave of conflicting emotions rolled through him as he locked eyes with the figure sitting at his desk. He locked his jaw and stubbornly refused to speak first.

“Good evening, Azul,” Jade said calmly. “I’m just finishing up this finance report. I’ve already completed the invoicing for this month, you can look over them if you wish.”

Azul hesitated, before dropping himself onto one of the couches, allowing the exhaustion to overwhelm him. “The two of you are incorrigible,” he muttered. “I hope you weren’t expecting me to be happy to see you.”

“Not at all,” Jade said, unbothered. “That being said, I hope you weren’t expecting me to allow you to cast me aside so easily.”

Azul sighed, leaning his head against the back of the couch and staring up at the ceiling. “I suppose it was an unrealistic expectation,” he said. “The two of you haven’t left me alone since the day we met.”

Jade chuckled, standing to move around to Azul’s side of the desk and sit on the edge. “Nor do we plan to any time soon,” he said lightly.

Lazily, Azul turned his head to meet Jade’s eyes, his cheek resting against the couch. He hated that he felt calmer than he had in days just at the sight of him. “What do you want from me, exactly?” he asked tiredly. “Did you think I would fall at your feet simply because you came here uninvited and did some paperwork on my behalf?”

Jade smiled, amused. “Well, I do think I’ve earned it. I did expend a considerable amount of effort on those invoices,” he said brightly. Azul rolled his eyes. “In all seriousness, I was simply concerned about the lounge. Though if you wished to forgive me out of gratitude I would hardly stop you.”

“Forgive you?” Azul said with a grim laugh. “That's funny, I don't seem to recall you ever apologizing.”

Jade tilted his head to the side curiously. “Oh, I’m not sorry,” he said, blunt as ever. “It’s hardly my fault that you've chosen to deliberately misunderstand my intentions.”

The comment might have sent Azul into a blind rage only a few hours ago, but exhaustion and recent epiphanies considered, he only smiled bitterly. “That might be true,” he admitted. “Though I do think I understand now, at least somewhat.”

“Oh?”

Azul thought back to what Floyd had said in the kitchen, and to the way his expression always seemed to soften when Jamil’s name was brought up in conversation, and to how undeniably happy he'd been those few days following the party in Scarabia before it had all gone to hell. Really, he should have realized sooner. He'd been too caught up on his own interests where Jamil was involved to see what had been right in front of him the whole time.

“Floyd loves him, doesn't he?” he asked. The words brought him no joy, but at the same time, lifted a weight off of his shoulders. “He has for a long time.”

Jade looked rather perplexed by the question. “Yes, I told you so,” he said. “Did you think I was lying?”

“You can hardly blame me for assuming that was just part of the grand scheme,” Azul snapped, sitting up straight. “Why didn't you just tell me? If I'd known before you created this elaborate plot—”

“You would have what? Stepped aside? I highly doubt that,” Jade interrupted frankly. “And regardless, it wasn't only about you, Floyd needed to realize it himself as well. This was the best way I could come up with to handle all problems at once.”

Azul waved him off with a sigh. “Your methods are questionable, but I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything less from you,” he conceded. “In any case, I get it. You wanted what was best for your brother and I was in the way. I see now that it wasn't as… personal, as I originally presumed.”

Jade frowned slightly; an exceedingly rare sight. “On the contrary. It was personal,” he said seriously. He moved from his perch on the desk to stand in front of Azul, demanding his full attention. “There's still one aspect of this that you're failing to understand. I already told you this as well, but I’ll repeat it if you'd like. I wouldn't mind repeating it every day for the rest of our lives.”

It only took a moment of staring into Jade’s soft expression for Azul’s confusion to turn to astonished, flustered understanding. He stood quickly, nearly stumbling in his haste to put distance between the two of them. “You don't— you can't possibly mean—” he attempted. Jade only watched him struggle in amusement, and Azul felt his face burn under his gaze. “No, I don't believe you. You're messing with me.”

“Hm,” Jade hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s a better response than ‘go to hell.’”

Azul pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to calm himself. “Jade,” he said firmly. “Be serious.”

“I’m deathly serious,” Jade said, placing a sincere hand to his chest. “I’m in love with you.”

Azul spluttered, holding his hands up in a desperate attempt to stop Jade from speaking. “Hold on, wait,” Azul begged. “So what you’re saying is that you wanted to dash my chances with Jamil, not out of malevolence, but because—”

“Because I was terribly jealous, yes,” Jade confirmed.

Azul laughed once in disbelief, sitting down on the couch once more, no longer able to trust his legs to hold him up. He’d never once suspected any of this, never even considered it, not even after Jade had told him forthright. Because it was impossible. Jade stayed with because it amused him, that was all. Azul had always known that. He’d never let himself forget it, certainly not for long enough to entertain the fact that it might not be the case.

And how did he feel about Jade? Maybe that was another thing he’d never allowed himself to consider, and for the same reason. After all, what was the point when he was just going to move on from him eventually? But now that he knew that wasn’t the case, that he wasn’t just a temporary source of entertainment…

Didn’t he depend on Jade’s constant presence? Didn’t he trust him more than anyone else? Didn’t he dread the day Jade would grow tired of him, because he didn’t want to lose him, because he wanted him to stay by his side forever?

Azul exhaled deeply, putting his face in his hands. “I’m… not sure what to say,” he muttered. He couldn’t make this decision, not so suddenly, not when he was dealing with a hundred different complicated emotions at once.

“That’s alright. I can be patient,” Jade said calmly. He grinned, his teeth flashing. “However, you should know that I do intend to marry you one day, so keep that in mind next time you choose to blatantly pursue someone else. I won’t let you go without a fight.”

Azul could only gape at him, at a complete loss for words. Jade giggled into his hand, seemingly delighted by his speechlessness, and Azul had to hold himself back from childishly throwing a couch pillow at him. “You are ridiculous,” Azul said exasperatedly.

Jade approached him, still smiling widely, and took one of his gloved hands. He brought it up to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss to the back of it, never breaking eye contact. Azul felt his face burst into flame. “Goodnight, Azul,” he said.

Jade was long gone by the time Azul was able to make his voice work again. He stared at his hand blankly, still frozen in the same position it had been when Jade dropped it, “Goodnight, Jade,” he whispered into the empty room.

—

“Need help?”

Azul looked up from the vice-grip he had on his broom, pushing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes frustratedly. “No,” he snapped. “Tell Vargas to kiss my ass.”

Jamil raised an amused eyebrow, leaning his weight against his own broom as he watched Azul struggle to hover less than a foot off the ground. “Vargas didn’t send me, actually,” he said. “You just looked like you were struggling.”

“Oh? And since when are you so altruistic?” Azul asked flatly, giving up and sighing in relief as his feet settled back onto the ground.

Jamil sighed, angling his head to strategically hide his face behind his hair. “I think we should talk,” he said, not sounding particularly eager at the notion.

Azul grimaced, before quickly pasting on his usual smile. “No offense, Jamil-san, but I would rather not,” he said. All things considered, the entire situation had been rather humiliating, and it would be a while before he would be able to even look Jamil in the eye again. “In fact, might I suggest that we don’t speak at all for the foreseeable future?”

Jamil snorted, rolling his eyes. “Do you know how much I would have loved to hear you say that at literally any other point in the past two years?” he said dryly. “Look… I guess I just wanted to apologize.”

Azul narrowed his eyes. “What could you possibly have to apologize for?” he asked, suspicious. As far as he was concerned, Jamil had been dragged into a mess that was almost entirely between himself, Jade, and Floyd; if anything, Azul should be apologizing to him. Not that he was planning on it.

“Um,” Jamil said, shifting a bit awkwardly. “I talked to Jade recently, and while he was mostly just being an asshole, I’ve been thinking about some of the things that he said. I’m definitely not taking responsibility for this ridiculous situation, but… maybe if I hadn’t been so awful to you in the first place, it could’ve been avoided. So I’m sorry.”

Azul blinked, his mind racing to try to even remotely understand what Jamil meant. “What?” he asked blankly, unable to come up with a better response.

Jamil groaned, clearly unenthused by the idea of elaborating. “Look, I knew that you were… interested… in me. And I should’ve handled it better. I could’ve, I don’t know, talked to you or something instead of treating you like a pain in the ass,” he said, muttering the words to his feet. “Maybe then we could’ve settled things in a normal way and Floyd and Jade wouldn’t have taken it upon themselves to make a whole production out of it.”

It took everything in Azul to keep from cringing. He vastly preferred Jamil’s disparagement to this humiliating pity act; in fact, he’d always enjoyed their banter despite the obvious undertone of rejection. Maybe that was why he’d been so attached to the hopeless cause for so long. His pursuit of Jamil had been stimulating, and fun, even. He’d never imagined, and certainly never wanted, an apology from him for it.

He tried to imagine a world where he had succeeded, where Jamil had accepted him and their relationship had deepened, and couldn’t. It occurred to him, then, that he had never imagined that. The end goal had seldom been on his mind. Perhaps he’d just enjoyed the thrill of the chase.

Azul idly added a notation to his mental list of recent discoveries about himself. How frustrating it was, to be a teenager.

“Jamil-san, if you had sat me down and kindly rejected me, I would have only pursued you harder,” Azul assured him. “I won't accept your apology. You were only being who you are, in the face of me being who I am. I assure you things would have turned out the same regardless.”

Jamil huffed exasperatedly, but Azul’s words seemed to reach him, because a small smile graced his face. “Fine,” he said. “Then I’m not sorry, and you are a pain in the ass.”

“Ah, much better,” Azul said, smiling again, more genuinely this time.

They were interrupted, suddenly, by a bellow from across the field. “Viper! Ashengrotto! I wanna see those brooms off the ground!” Vargas called.

Azul scowled, and Jamil smirked haughtily at him. “Sure you don't want help?” he asked.

“…I suppose it wouldn't hurt,” he conceded. “Though I wouldn't want to owe you anything, so I’ll offer you something in return. My friendship. I imagine we’ll be spending much more time together, anyway, considering your situation with Floyd.”

He held out his hand toward Jamil, but Jamil only spared it an unimpressed glance and crossed his arms. “No thanks,” he said. “There is no situation with Floyd, first of all. And second of all, I’m still not interested in being your friend.”

Azul chuckled, delighted, and let his hand fall back to his side. And so the chase began anew.

Chapter Text

Azul burst into the dorm room without bothering to knock, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed sternly. Floyd spared him a short glance before burying his face back into his pillow.

“Floyd,” Azul said tiredly. “I’ve been receiving complaints from your professors all week that you haven't been attending their lessons. I told them you were sick, but that excuse will only hold up for so long. Go to class.”

“Fuck off,” Floyd mumbled, his voice muffled by the cotton.

Jade spun around in his desk chair to face them. “I’ve done my best to persuade him, but it’s no use,” he said coolly. “The professors have been questioning me as well. Quite the inconvenience you’re causing us, Floyd.”

Floyd groaned, kicking his feet childishly. “I don’t care,” he whined. “I hate this school. I wanna go home.”

Azul sighed, crossing the room and taking a seat on the edge of Floyd’s bed. “No you don’t,” he said tiredly.

“I do,” Floyd argued frustratedly. “Things weren’t like this back home. My stupid heart never did this weird thing, and no one ever made me this sad, and I didn’t have to care about anything except having fun. If you told me living on land was gonna be like this, I wouldn’t have come.”

Jade let out a huff of breath that resembled a chuckle, and Floyd seriously considered crossing the room and throttling him. “Those things aren’t happening because you’re on land,” Jade pointed out calmly. “They’re happening because you’re in high school.”

Floyd didn’t bother responding to that, and the room fell into silence. Azul took a deep breath beside him, as if preparing himself for his next words.

“Considering you must blame me for what you’re going through, I’m sure I’m the last person you want to talk to right now,” Azul said, his voice a bit strained. He cleared his throat. “But if you want to get it off your chest, I’ll listen. I’m rather personally familiar with Jamil Viper’s cold shoulder.”

Floyd flopped over onto his back, glowering at the ceiling. He did want to talk to Azul, he realized immediately. That was all he’d wanted this whole time. Jade meant well, but his methods of comfort tended to piss Floyd off more than anything. Azul was the peacekeeper, always had been.

“He’s not even giving me the cold shoulder,” Floyd said miserably. “He still talks to me in basketball club and nods at me in the halls and everything is totally normal. Apparently he just wants to act like none of it even happened.”

Azul hummed thoughtfully. “Well,” he said. “That’s hardly the worst-case scenario, is it?”

“It is,” Floyd muttered. “I don’t wanna go back to the way things were. I want all of his attention, and I want to kiss him and touch him and make him happy. And if I can’t have that, then I don’t ever wanna see him again, ‘cause when I do I just feel angry and stupid and terrible.”

Azul’s face twisted into something that Floyd might have thought was sympathy if he didn’t know any better. “I know,” he said.

“It would be better if he was mad at me. Then we could, I dunno, hash it out or something,” Floyd continued. “But there’s nothing to even talk about, he just doesn’t like me anymore, and I can’t make him. It sucks. All of this sucks and I don’t know what to do.”

Azul pursed his lips tightly, and his expression changed again, the gentleness quickly giving way to frustration. “Alright, that’s enough,” he said bluntly. “I refuse to believe you’re this obtuse.”

Floyd raised an eyebrow at him, as if challenging him to speak his mind. “Eh?”

“He doesn’t like you? Are you kidding me?” Azul said exasperatedly. “I have never seen Jamil Viper look at anyone the way he looks at you, and trust me, I have desperately tried. He feels betrayed and embarrassed, which I know because I was also on the receiving end of your stupid stunt, but you’re blinded by self-pity if you truly believe he no longer cares about you. Hearing you whine about being unwanted by him to me of all people is more than I can take. Instead of lying around feeling sorry for yourself, go and fix it.”

For several long moments, Floyd only stared at Azul flatly. Azul held his gaze with no sense of intimidation. Then, finally, Floyd allowed a small smile to spread across his face. “Missed you,” he said quietly.

Azul looked a bit flustered by the declaration, and before he could come up with a response, Floyd grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down to lay beside him.

“F-Floyd,” Azul sputtered as Floyd wrapped all of his limbs around him and held him firmly in place. He quickly gave up his attempts to free himself, whoever, and reluctantly settled into the embrace. “Honestly.”

“Don't be mean to me anymore,” Floyd mumbled into Azul’s chest. “Just forgive me.”

Azul exhaled slowly, reaching a careful hand up to thread through Floyd's hair. “I do,” he said.

Floyd pulled back slightly to look up at him. “For the record, I don't blame you,” he said seriously. “Jamil would’ve found out eventually, even if it was from me. I couldn't deal with that gross feeling.”

“Guilt,” Jade reminded him from across the room. He brought a hand to his chin thoughtfully. “And while we're speaking of blame, I suppose it's fair to say that the three of us may be equally at fault for things turning out the way they have.”

“Well, no,” Floyd said flatly.

“Equally?” Azul added in disbelief.

Jade chuckled, entirely too pleased. “Alright, fine,” he said. “Though I do consider the results mostly successful, from my perspective at least.”

“Why?” Floyd asked bitterly. “Did you get Azul to fall for you or something?”

Azul made a small noise of distress, his fingers tightening in Floyd’s hair threateningly. “Stop it,” he hissed.

“Not yet,” Jade replied calmly.

Azul stiffened in Floyd’s grasp. “Ugh,” he said. “We are not talking about this right now.”

Floyd shrugged, pausing and toying with the buttons on Azul’s suit idly. “You guys are… okay, though, right?” he asked hesitantly, slightly nervous to hear the answer.

The room fell into tense silence for a few moments, and then Azul sighed, deflating in Floyd's arms. “Come here, Jade,” he said.

Jade’s lips quirked in a smile, and he stood promptly, circling Floyd’s bed and laying down on Azul’s other side. Unlike Floyd, he kept his hands to himself, but let his forehead settle gently between Azul’s shoulder blades and exhaled deeply.

They were quiet again, but this time the silence was far more peaceful. Floyd could tell, from Azul’s stiff posture, that he was attempting to work up the resolve to speak. He pulled him even closer as a form of encouragement.

“…It's difficult for me, sometimes, to convince myself that I truly matter to the two of you,” Azul said quietly. “Unconditional affection is a concept that I can’t quite wrap my mind around, even after all this time.”

Floyd scoffed. “You’re stupid,” he mumbled, feeling himself become comfortably lethargic in Azul’s warm embrace. “We love you.”

Azul swallowed thickly. “I don’t need to assure you that it’s mutual, do I?” he asked hopefully, his voice cracking a bit.

“You don’t,” Jade reassured, his voice sounding far away to Floyd now as he let his eyes flutter shut.

—

“Uh, hey, Floyd-senpai?” Ace said, looking a bit sheepish as he jogged up to Floyd as practice was wrapping up. Floyd had spent the majority of the club meeting sulking on the bleachers, which was becoming a common occurrence on days when he actually bothered to show up. “Captain told me to let you know you’re on cleanup duty today.”

Floyd scowled. “Screw that,” he said irritably. “I didn’t even play, I’m not cleanin’ up after everyone.”

Ace rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay… kind of mean to make Jamil-senpai do it all by himself though…” he said tentatively.

Floyd lifted his head slightly at that. “Hold up,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “You’re tellin’ me that me and him just randomly got assigned cleanup duty?”

Ace shrugged. “I guess?” he said.

Either the captain somehow had insider knowledge and a personal vendetta against Floyd, or the universe just really, really hated him. He groaned, letting his head thunk back against the bench. “Fine,” he said.

He waited for the gym to clear before hauling himself up, sparing a brief glance in Jamil’s direction as he did so. The other boy was across the gym, picking up balls and returning them to the rack, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he and Floyd were alone together in the room. Floyd grimaced, heading away from him and toward the broom closet.

It was then that Floyd noticed that they weren’t alone after all. He raised an eyebrow. “Either take over for me or get out of here,” he said flatly.

Near the entrance to the locker room stood Ace, who crossed his arms over his chest with a look of stubborn determination. “No,” he said firmly. “I’m locking you two in here until you talk out whatever the hell is going on with you.”

Floyd blinked, taken aback. “The fuck?” he said in disbelief.

In the first place, how would Ace even know anything was going on? It wasn’t like Floyd and Jamil were fighting or avoiding each other; the way they were interacting now would’ve been completely normal a month ago. Floyd supposed Jamil could have told him, but that seemed incredibly unlikely, considering it had been his idea to forget about all of it in the first place.

“What’s going on?” Jamil asked, crossing the room toward them and turning an unamused glance toward Ace. “Why are you still here?”

“Because he wants to get his ass kicked, apparently,” Floyd responded, still reeling at Ace’s audacity.

Ace took a small, nervous step away from Floyd, but stood his ground. “Look, I know it’s not any of my business, but I’m getting pissed,” he said irritably. “I thought it was awkward before when you guys were all flirty and obsessed with each other, but this is way worse! Floyd-senpai barely even comes to practice anymore, and when he does Jamil-senpai tries way too hard to act normal when it's obvious he's having some kind of crisis, and most importantly, you both suck at basketball now. We have a game against RSA coming up! I don't know what happened, and I don't care, but I know you're both too emotionally clueless to figure it out yourselves so now I have to get involved.”

Floyd and Jamil exchanged a glance, both seemingly at a loss for words. Vaguely, Floyd recalled that Ace tended to be like this; he'd berated Azul when that whole thing had gone down, too, completely unconcerned by how ill-advised and out of line it was. Floyd had honestly thought he was kind of cool back then, but now that it was directed toward him, he wasn't quite so charmed.

“You're right, Ace,” Jamil finally said, and Floyd could practically feel the anger radiating from him. “It's none of your business. Open the door.”

Ace shook his head stubbornly. “No,” he said again. “I mean, come on, don't you guys want to work this out? Do you enjoy being miserable or something?”

Jamil scoffed and rolled his eyes. “We’re hardly miserable,” he said. “Everything is fine—”

“Speak for yourself,” Floyd said bitterly, the words coming out before he could think them through.

There was a brief, uncomfortable silence. Floyd wasn't sure what expression he had expected to see on Jamil's face when he turned to him, but it definitely wasn't the irritated one he was wearing now. “What?” he asked coldly.

Floyd shrugged. “Well, I’m miserable, and it's not fine, but whatever,” he said dully. “I can take a hint. No use talkin’ about it when you've already made up your mind.”

Jamil’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, how exactly were you expecting this to go?” he asked, his voice low as if he were making an effort to keep their conversation private, despite the fact that Ace was only a few feet away and could clearly hear everything he was saying. “Did you think I was just going to brush it off and jump back into your arms? You should just be glad I’m still on speaking terms with you at all.”

Floyd groaned, kicking at the bleacher nearest to him. “I just want you to stop actin’ like it’s so easy for you to pretend like nothing even happened!” he snapped, feeling all of the frustration that had been building up inside of him finally bubble to the surface.

Jamil opened his mouth as if to respond, but promptly snapped it shut again, hugging his arms around himself and turning away from Floyd entirely. The three of them settled into yet another weighted silence.

“…Um, y’know what, I really don't need to be here for this,” Ace said, rubbing the back of his head. He reached for the door behind him. “I’ll leave you guys alone.”

He pushed on the door, and it budged slightly, but remained firmly shut. He tried again, and then several more times with increased urgency, but came no closer to success.

Floyd pinched the bridge of his nose. “Crabby,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Does the door lock from the outside?”

“I— I didn't even mean to actually lock it!” Ace said, his face suddenly several shades paler than it had been a moment ago. “I guess it must do it automatically…”

Jamil made an exasperated sound, spinning on his heel to head toward the exit on the other side of the room. Floyd watched, unamused, as Jamil went through the same routine Ace just had. When it was clear he wasn't getting anywhere, he pinched the bridge of his nose and trudged back toward them. “Surely one of you knows unlocking magic, right?” Jamil asked.

“Yeah, ‘course,” Floyd said. “But my pen is in my gym locker.”

Ace shuffled uncomfortably. “…So is mine,” he muttered.

“So is mine,” Jamil sighed. “Okay, then we’ll just have to call someone.”

“Phone’s in my locker too,” Floyd said, sitting down on the bleachers and lounging back, already having accepted the inevitable.

“Mine too,” Ace said, to the floor and very quietly, as if he was hoping they wouldn't hear him.

Jamil glowered at Ace. “Mine too,” he said between clenched teeth.

Ace laughed nervously, scratching the side of his face. “Okay, so, my bad,” he said. “But someone’s bound to come looking for us eventually, right? We just gotta wait until one of our friends notices we’re missing, and this’ll definitely be the first place they check.”

“That’s not the point,” Jamil snapped, beginning to pace anxiously. “I don’t have spare time to sit around in the gym for who knows how long, and the last thing I need is Kalim wandering around unsupervised looking for me. If you’d just kept your nose out of something that has nothing to do with you—”

“Lay off,” Floyd interrupted, rolling a stray ball on the floor near him under his foot lazily. “He didn’t mean to.”

Jamil laughed once in disbelief. “Oh, so Ace can miss a shot during a game and you’ll grill him for three days about it, but now…” he said, before trailing off and taking a deep breath. “Whatever. Nevermind.”

And with that, Jamil stalked across the room, planting himself on the furthest possible bleacher and facing away from them. Floyd picked up the ball from the floor and began to spin it on his finger boredly. Ace cleared his throat.

“Uh, sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I was trying to help…?”

Floyd shrugged. “You helped piss Jamil off, that’s for sure,” he said, chuckling under his breath a bit. “I kinda prefer it to him acting all chill and unaffected by everything, though, so props.”

Ace blinked. “Oh,” he said. “Um, you’re welcome, I guess.”

The three of them sat in silence for quite some time, the awkward tension managing to fill the spaces of even such a large room. Eventually, Floyd got far too bored, and he began to shoot free-throws to entertain himself. Soon enough, he got bored of that too, and he threw the ball in Ace’s direction. Ace barely managed to catch it before it nailed him in the face.

“One-on-one, Crabby, let’s go,” Floyd demanded. Ace hesitated for a moment, before nodding and dribbling his way to center court.

It was always fun to play against Ace, because he tried so hard, despite the fact that he clearly had no chance of winning against Floyd. Floyd’s regular taunting aside, Ace wasn’t actually bad at all, just predictable. It was fun to watch him think so hard, only for him to always do exactly what Floyd knew he would, without fail. He would learn eventually.

“Ugh, how am I ever supposed to beat you?” Ace complained as Floyd stole the ball from him and made the shot yet again. “You’re too tall.”

“He’ll always try to dominate you with his height. You have to find a way to throw him off and get past him,” a voice suddenly spoke up. Floyd turned to see that Jamil had approached them at some point, and was standing on the sidelines to watch. “You’re focusing too much on your left side, and he’s taking advantage of it. Switch up your tactics.”

Ace didn’t respond; he glanced between Floyd and Jamil, expression unsure. Floyd tossed Ace the ball and got into the defensive position.

“You should listen to him,” Floyd said calmly. “He’s way better at this than either of us.”

They continued to play for a bit, and Jamil continued to throw Ace bits of advice from the sidelines. Floyd ended up winning, predictably, but Ace had managed to score far more points on him than he normally would have. In the aftermath, Ace hauled himself to the closest wall and collapsed onto the floor, out of breath and exhausted. Floyd turned to Jamil, his adrenaline not entirely depleted yet.

“Wanna play?” he asked.

Jamil eyed him with a carefully unreadable expression, before shaking his head. “No thanks,” he said.

Floyd sighed, accepting defeat as he tossed the ball away and headed back toward the bleachers. Maybe he could get a nap in before someone showed up to free them.

“It isn’t easy.”

Floyd froze in place, slowly turning to see Jamil looking pointedly away from him, his face painted with barely hidden distress. “Huh?” Floyd asked.

Jamil winced. “This is ridiculous… we weren't even— I didn't even want anything to happen, so why…” he rambled, gritting his teeth against the words as if he could stop them from coming out. “Why isn't it easy?”

Floyd frowned, raising a confused eyebrow. “Wait… so, if you hate this, and I hate this…” he said, before throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Then what the hell are we even doing?! Can't we just talk and make up and go back to kissing and shit so we're both happy again?”

With a frustrated sigh, Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. “It's not that simple,” he said.

“Why?”

“I don't know!” Jamil snapped. He lowered himself onto the bleachers, covering his face with his hands. “I have no idea how to deal with any of this, all I know is that I let my guard down and I immediately got hurt, and I can't… I can't do this, Floyd, it's not worth it. I have enough to worry about already.”

At that, Floyd felt all of the fight leave him at once. Because Azul had been right. It wasn't that Jamil didn't want anything to do with Floyd because he'd annoyed him or pissed him off or he didn’t like him anymore, it was because Floyd had hurt him, and he didn't trust him not to do it again.

He rubbed the back of his neck wearily, before approaching Jamil and kneeling down in front of him. He reached up to grab his hands and pull them away from his face. “Jamil…” he said, ignoring the way Jamil violently startled in response. “I did somethin’ stupid. I do stupid stuff all the time, and I'll probably be doin’ stupid stuff forever, so if you don't wanna deal with that I get it. But I’m really, really sorry I hurt you. I’ve never been so sorry in my whole life. Just tell me you believe that, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

Jamil raised his head, finally managing to hold eye contact with Floyd for the first time in what felt like days. He was quiet for several long moments. Then, just as he opened his mouth to speak, they were suddenly interrupted by the sound of a door being pushed open echoing throughout the empty gym.

“There you— woah,” came Deuce’s voice, before he was abruptly cut off by Ace jumping from his seat on the floor and throwing himself bodily into his arms.

“Oh thank god,” Ace said, his voice weak with relief. He seemed to realize what he was doing and quickly detached himself from Deuce, clearing his throat. “Took you long enough! If I had to sit through one more minute of this melodrama I was gonna puke.”

Yuu and Grim followed close behind Deuce. It made sense, really, that Ace’s friends would be the ones to find them first; Floyd going off and doing his own thing at any given time wasn't exactly unusual, and Kalim was probably too caught up in his own world to even notice that Jamil was gone. “You were tryin’ to skip out on our study group, weren't you?” Grim huffed. “If I gotta show up so do you!”

“What… happened?” Yuu asked, glancing between Ace and the compromising position Floyd and Jamil were in. Jamil quickly pulled his hands out of Floyd's grasp, and Floyd stood with a sigh, heading toward the group.

“A certain little crab stuck his nose in where it didn't belong,” Floyd said, throwing a vaguely threatening arm over Ace’s shoulders. “Don't worry, we’ll make sure he answers for his actions next practice~”

Ace groaned, shoving Floyd away from him. “I already answered for them,” he whined. “Come on guys, let's just go… uh, sorry again. Senpais.”

Floyd answered him with a weak smile and a shrug, as if to say thanks for trying. It hadn't really changed anything, but at the very least, he'd gotten to talk to Jamil more than he probably would have without Ace’s intervention. Ace seemed to understand, because he gave him a nod and a look that might have been sympathetic before following his friends out of the gym.

The atmosphere was heavy. Floyd turned toward where Jamil was still sitting, and rocked on the balls of his feet as he waited to see if the other boy had anything more to say. If his continued silence was anything to go by, he didn't.

Floyd sighed. There was nothing he hated more than not getting what he wanted, and he couldn't remember ever wanting anything as much as he wanted Jamil. But from the beginning, even before he'd made his stupid deal with Jade, maybe from the moment he'd met Jamil in this very gym, all he'd wanted to do was make him happy. He'd wanted to see that guarded, serious exterior crack, he'd wanted to see him laugh and smile and have fun. And he'd succeeded at that, before, back when they were just teammates. Pushing for more had only done the opposite.

It was like Jamil had said, he had enough to worry about already. He didn't need Floyd fucking with his life even more.

“Alright, well,” Floyd said. “I’ll see ya around.”

He turned to leave, and was nearly to the door when he was stopped in his tracks by a quiet “Floyd.”

Floyd spun on his heel, raising an eyebrow in Jamil’s direction. He was standing now, staring at Floyd with a conflicted expression on his face.

“…I do believe you,” he said. “But I don't want you to leave me alone.”

Floyd sighed. “I’m not just gonna keep chasin’ after you if it's a lost cause,” he said tiredly.

Jamil laughed once, humorlessly. “How could it be a lost cause?” he asked. He looked up at the ceiling with a small groan, as if he were exasperated by the words coming out of his own mouth. “I’m already in love with you.”

Floyd froze in place, feeling vaguely like someone had just sent a chest pass straight into his stomach. He stared at Jamil for a long time, watching the other boy's face flush deeper the longer the words settled between them. Then, Floyd felt a grin spread across his face, until it was so wide that his cheeks hurt. The feeling in his chest returned tenfold. He didn't need Jade to tell him what it was called, this time.

“Hey, Jamil,” he said, attempting to keep the giddiness he felt inside out of his voice. “Let's go get somethin’ to eat.”

Jamil looked at him, his expression still pinched and unsure. And then, slowly, it smoothed out into what was almost a smile, as if he'd come to some kind of peace. “I’d have to bring Kalim,” he said, unapologetically.

“We’re going to the Lounge,” Floyd countered. If this was going to work, they would have to get used to dealing with each other's shit. They might as well start now.

“Okay,” Jamil agreed with a nod.

“Okay,” Floyd repeated, because it was worth it.

Chapter Text

There were sixteen seconds left on the clock, and Royal Sword Academy was up by two.

The game seemed to slow to a stop around him as Jamil considered his options. He was in possession of the ball, but taking the shot himself wasn’t plausible; it hadn’t taken long for the opposing team to catch onto the fact that Jamil had scored most of their points, and the defense was on him heavily. He could pass it forward, hope that he could get it into one of his teammate’s hands, and tie up the game as long as they made the shot. Or he could pass it downcourt, to Floyd.

Floyd was not in the mood for basketball today; he’d made that much exceedingly clear. He had fouled four of the allotted five times, and it had long gotten to the point that the opponents were no longer paying him any mind, certain that no one on his team would even bother passing to him anymore. Even if he did receive the ball, he would likely do something ridiculous, like shoot it into the opposite basket just for the hell of it.

That was what everyone else on the court thought, anyway. That was what Jamil wanted them to think.

Jamil smirked, turning on his heel to pass through the hole in the defense behind him. Floyd, who had been gazing around aimlessly until that point, suddenly snapped into focus. He received the pass easily, and Jamil watched as his demeanor entirely changed. His eyes flashed, and he sent Jamil a sharp grin and a wink. All according to plan.

Floyd took the shot, wide open, from half-court. It sailed through the net with a resounding swish right as the buzzer sounded.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Ace yelled from the bench, his voice somehow piercing through the wild cheering that had suddenly erupted from the stands.

Jamil chuckled as he watched their team swarm Floyd, showering him with praises and high fives and enthusiastic pats on the back. Floyd, however, seemed to not even notice the fanfare, his eyes never leaving Jamil’s as he made his way through the crowd.

“Suckers,” Floyd said as he approached Jamil, holding his hand down for a low-five.

Jamil snorted, consenting and hitting Floyd’s hand before crossing his arms smugly. “Told you it would work,” he said. “After a whole season of watching you foul out almost every game, no way those RSA guys would expect you to switch up at the last second.”

“My Sea Snakey’s so smart~” Floyd said, leaning in close to him. “Just marry me already.”

Jamil rolled his eyes, but allowed Floyd to close the distance between them and place a peck on his lips.

Jamil had intended to take things slow, to give Floyd another chance to prove himself and work his way up to earning Jamil's trust again. That plan lasted about a week, until the day Floyd came by Scarabia for dinner and Kalim asked the two of them if they were dating. Floyd said yes, and Jamil didn't protest, and that was that.

In that moment, Jamil had decided once and for all to stop agonizing over it. He was stupidly, mortifyingly, head-over-heels infatuated, and clearly no amount of overthinking or resistance was going to change that. Floyd was sorry, and Jamil forgave him, and it really could just be that simple.

“Well, that was a rather good showing,” a voice chimed in from beside them. Jamil pulled away from Floyd, but let the taller boy throw an arm over his shoulders. “Your assist at the end there was especially impressive, Jamil-san. You seemed to know exactly what to do to ensure that Floyd was clear to make the game-winning three-pointer.”

Jamil and Floyd eyed Azul with equally perplexed expressions, and Jade, who had joined Azul in approaching them from the stands, chuckled behind his hand. “Azul spent his entire free period studying up on basketball terminology in preparation for attending your match today,” he explained pleasantly.

Azul deflated, offering Jade a flat glance. “Thank you for that,” he said bitterly. “Anyway, as a reward for your victory, I thought I might treat the two of you to dinner in town. If you’re amiable, of course.”

“Ahh… Jamil, weren’t you sayin’ something early about having to help Sea Otter study tonight?” Floyd asked, squeezing Jamil a little more firmly.

Jamil blinked. He hadn’t said anything of the sort, which meant that Floyd was lying for his benefit. He was giving him an out.

It wasn’t fair, really, that he felt like he needed to. Floyd wasn’t the only one who needed to atone for past actions; Jamil had a fair bit of making up to do for the way he’d treated all three of them. By default, he’d accepted Azul and Jade the moment he’d accepted Floyd, and he wanted Floyd to realize that, too.

“We got that out of the way before the game, actually,” Jamil said casually. “I should be free for the rest of the evening.”

The surprised, toothy smile he received from Floyd in response made Jamil want to promise to spend time with Azul and Jade every day for the rest of his life. Luckily, Azul chimed in before such impulses could surface.

“Wonderful!” Azul said, clapping his hands together. “Say we meet in front of the main entrance once you're done getting changed?”

“Fine,” Jamil said with a shrug. “But I’ll pay for myself. That just seems like something you'd expect me to owe you for later.”

Azul placed a hand to his chest in exaggerated offense. “Perish the thought. You've already repaid me with the enthralling performance you just put on,” he said pleasantly. “Although, if we find time to discuss your inevitable transfer to Octavinelle during our meal, I suppose I could stand to benefit…”

“Never going to happen,” Jamil said flatly.

Jade cleared his throat. “Surely you'll be treating me as well, Azul?” he interjected.

Azul crossed his arms over his chest, his attention thankfully slipping away from Jamil. “I don't see why I should,” he replied unenthusiastically.

Jade smiled sharply. “Why, as a token of your affection for me, of course,” he replied without hesitation.

Azul let out a long, slow sigh. “Of course,” he said, the flush on his face betraying his lack of actual exasperation. Jade beamed. “I’ll consider it.”

“Sorry to interrupt this awkward flirting,” Floyd said, glancing up toward the clearing stands. “But why is Sea Lion-senpai lookin’ over here like he wants to maul us?”

Jamil followed his gaze, to see that Leona was, indeed, sending a hostile look in their direction while Idia tried frantically to pull him away. Jamil raised an eyebrow. He knew that he hadn't done anything to offend his upperclassman recently, but he wouldn't put it past the other three.

“…I wonder,” Azul said, some color draining from his face. And then, a bit frantically, “Well, we should get going. We’ll see you shortly.”

“Aye aye,” Floyd agreed, brushing it off easily with a salute. He tilted his head toward Jamil, grinning darkly. “We’ll be out in a bit, something we gotta take care of first.”

Jamil smirked back, nodding at Floyd once before the other boy released him, and they split up wordlessly. The game strategy wasn't the only thing they'd planned for this occasion.

The locker room had mostly cleared out by the time Jamil entered, which was exactly what he'd been hoping for. He locked the door behind him before heading toward his locker, scanning the room as he went.

Ace was still hanging around; Jamil had counted on that, as he was generally slow-moving and tended to loiter on his phone for a bit after getting changed. “Hey,” Jamil greeted casually as he opened his locker and began changing.

“Jamil-senpai!” Ace said excitedly, jumping to his feet. “You and Floyd-senpai totally killed it out there! I totally thought we were goners when Floyd-senpai started fucking around, but you planned that, didn't you? So freaking cool…”

Jamil snorted, pulling his sweatshirt over his head before heading to Floyd’s locker. “Thanks,” he said. “Guess we kind of owe you one.”

Ace has the decency to look a bit sheepish, but he stuck out his chest proudly regardless. “Hell yeah you do,” he said, so very humbly. “Honestly, if you think about it, I kind of won that game for us, right?”

“For sure,” Jamil agreed easily. He gathered Floyd's clothes and put them in his bag. “In fact, Floyd and I have already thought of a way to repay you.”

At that moment, the second of the two doors into the locker room opened, and Floyd entered the room, dragging a slightly-frightened looking guest along with him.

“Uhh, what're you doing here?” Ace asked Deuce as Floyd pushed him away from himself and toward Ace. Deuce stumbled a bit, expression flustered.

“I’m not… sure,” Deuce said nervously. Jamil watched idly as Floyd checked to make sure they were the last ones left in the locker room. “Leech-senpai kind of, um, insisted. He said you had something to tell me…”

Ace blinked, and Jamil did his best to hide his amusement as the realization visibly crossed the other boy's features. “W-wait…” Ace stuttered, his face paling considerably.

“I know it's not any of our business, but…” Jamil said with a smirk.

“We just felt like we had to get involved, since you're so emotionally clueless,” Floyd chirped, already backing away toward the door. “Good luck!”

Jamil bolted before Ace could even react, ignoring Ace’s enraged protests as he and Floyd raced toward the door. He slammed the door behind them and locked it, feeling only slightly guilty when Ace began banging on it moments later.

“Are you kidding me?!” came Ace's muffled voice from behind the door. “Come on, it’s not even like that!”

Jamil glanced at Floyd, who was leaning against the wall of the hallway and laughing hysterically. “Yuu will show up to let them out, right?” Jamil asked a bit doubtfully.

“Probably!” Floyd said, shoving his hands in his pockets and strolling down the hallway, unconcerned. Jamil shrugged and followed. “Ah, Crabby’ll be fine. Worry less about him more about the unresolved tension we're gonna have to stomach during dinner.”

Jamil groaned. “Are they really still not together?” he asked exasperatedly.

“Eh, they pretty much are,” Floyd said. “I think Azul’s still bein’ weird about lockin’ it down though.”

Jamil hummed thoughtfully. “Hm. Well, there's an easy solution,” he said seriously. “You and I break up and I’ll seduce Jade. Then Azul will get jealous and get his shit together. Those kinds of plans always work, right?”

Floyd stopped walking, turning to Jamil with a deadpan expression. “Not even funny,” he said, unamused. “You're mean.”

Jamil smirked, unperturbed. “We just locked our underclassmen in a locker room,” he pointed out. “That shouldn't have been in question.”

Floyd threw his head back in a joyful laugh, before backing Jamil against the wall, trapping him there with his arm. “True enough. Being nice is boring anyway,” he said with a grin. “We’re never, ever breaking up, by the way.”

Jamil waited for the doubt and panic to creep in, for the logical part of his brain to argue the unrealistic absurdity of what Floyd had just said, but it never came. It was a nice thought, and Jamil wanted to believe it.

“Alright,” he agreed. He thrust his gym bag into Floyd’s arms. “Your clothes are in there, go change.”

“Ugh,” Floyd complained. “Don't feel like it. Can't I just go in this?”

Jamil glanced down at his sweat-soaked jersey distastefully. “If you want to deal with Azul, be my guest,” he said with a shrug. “I’m sure he plans to take us to some ridiculously upscale restaurant.”

“Aww, look at you taking Azul’s side,” Floyd said slyly. “Don't start likin’ him too much. It would be super annoying if I lost you to him after all this.”

Jamil rolled his eyes. “In the interest of not getting murdered by your brother, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.

“Hm,” Floyd hummed. “Any other interests that might factor in there?”

Jamil pretended to think on it. “No, that's it,” he decided with a smirk.

Floyd snorted. “Sure, sure,” he said. And then, in a high-pitched impression that sounded nothing like Jamil at all: “I’m soooo in love with you Floyd~”

Jamil’s amusement dropped instantaneously. “I did not say— whatever,” he muttered, shoving Floyd away from him and freeing himself. “Get dressed.”

“Fineee,” Floyd whined, throwing the gym bag over his shoulder. “Gimme kiss.”

Jamil sighed tiredly, before getting up on his toes and kissing Floyd shortly on the mouth. Floyd grinned crookedly and stole one more kiss before turning on his heel and heading toward the adjacent bathroom. Jamil watched him go, unable to keep the fond smile from his lips.

A few moments later, Jamil felt his phone buzz with a text. He pulled it out of his pocket to see Kalim’s name flashing across the screen.

Jamil groaned to himself, but the smile hadn't left his face. He realized then, in a sharp moment of self-reflection, that he didn't even need the advice. For once, he wasn't worried about anything at all.