Work Text:
It had been almost two weeks since that day. The day Jones let his heart speak and it ended up costing him the only friend he cared about losing. The words his friend had spoken at his confession still stung when he zoned out and remembered that damned day. He couldn't face The Foundation. Hell, he'd give anything not to face that guy again. Every time he saw him, he either ran the other way to stop himself from having a breakdown or hid. Either way, he wasn't very secretive with his avoidance. Most of The Seven had caught onto why he was avoiding the man he used to never leave the side of. It was only The Imagined, however, that actually asked him what happened. When she asked, he had to take a moment to stop himself from screaming before telling her.
"And you said the worst he could say was that he didn't like me back" Jones laughed, heart in his throat. "I shouldn't have said that, I know that now." The redheaded Seven member's voice was full of guilt, like her words jinxed Jones' confession. Hearing her voice made his eyes sting with tears. It wasn't her fault. None of what had happened was. Yet hearing her empathetic voice made him want to comfort her more than he wanted her to comfort him. "You can't just keep avoiding him, y'know. He's started asking where you are." The Imagined leaned back in her chair, feet propped on top of the table's edge as she spoke. Jones sighed, "I can't face him, Imagined. I just- I can't." Fuck he sounded so pathetic even to himself. Two weeks ago he would've killed everyone on the island if it meant to help The Foundation. If that was obsession, infatuation, or love he couldn't tell.
He realized in those weeks that he had a knack – or rather a curse – for wrecking the good things in his life. He didn't know how to take that realization. He had hurt people before: Betraying Slone, Leaving his wife to die, and now, letting his emotions get in the way of his only chance of escaping the loop. He had to suck it up sooner or later and face the man who broke his heart, whether he was strong enough to face him or not.
—
The Foundation had fucked up. He knew that. He knew he shouldn't have been as blunt as he was the moment Jones had left him after his confession. It wasn't something he could legitimately control, but he could've kept it to a minimum during the blonde's outburst of love. He couldn't even blame his reaction on stress; That afternoon was the calmest he ever had since he had come to the island. He hurt the guy, and he didn't know exactly how to make it up to him.
"I talked to him earlier. What the hell did you even say?" The Imagined asked as The Foundation stared at a hologrammed map of the island. He sighed, trying to ignore her. "I was too blunt with him and he got his feelings hurt. Not my fault."
"It technically is. He told you something that had been eating at him for weeks and you just had to let your stoicism speak for you, huh?" The Foundation's head snapped up to the woman, obviously pissed off at his response. "I didn't mean it like that, Imagined. You know that."
"Well he obviously didn't. It took him five minutes to not scream his head off when I asked him what happened."
"Well, he won't talk to me. You see the way he reacts when he sees me." The Foundation's blood pressure was rising. He didn't want to continue arguing with her, but she wasn't backing down.
"You don't think I've noticed how you look for him in every room? And how you ask the first person you see if they know where he is? If you really want to see him that bad, start where he's been sulking for the past two weeks." The Imagined left the room after that, leaving The Foundation to soak her words in. She was right. He had to talk to him, even if that meant cornering him in his own room.
—
The knock on Jones's door was nothing more than a heart dropping sound for the blonde. His heart dropped further in his chest when he opened the door and saw the man he had been avoiding for days. He tried to shut the door, but The Foundation had stuck his foot between the door frame and door, causing it to stay open.
"Jones, I know we ended on a-"
"Please, just go."
The desperation in Jones' voice shocked the taller male. Had he really hurt the guy this bad?
"Jones, I think this would be better if you let me in."
The blonde stood still for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest before he finally sighed and reluctantly pulled the door open for him. He walked in, hearing Jones shut the door behind him.
An awkward silence filled the room as Jones leaned against the door, waiting for the exact words he had dreaded hearing. "I'm sorry. I know that doesn't fix anything, but I'm sorry." Jones didn't look at him for a moment, knowing the other would want him to speak.
"Would your response have changed if I had waited?"
"...what?"
"If I had been more patient, waited a little longer, maybe would-" Jones stopped himself, feeling a lump grow in his throat.
"Would that have changed your reaction to what I said?"
Jones looked at him with remorseful eyes, waiting for his answer.
"I… I don't know. I-" –He shut his mouth, trying to gather his thoughts– "Patience wouldn't change how I feel for you, Jones." He hated the way Jones looked away at those words, knowing his words hurt more than the last ones he had spoken.
"Y'know everyone thought we were a thing, right?" Jones smiled weakly, walking away from the door and to his bed. "The seven sentries always asked how my 'boyfriend' was when they saw me," the blonde muttered, picking at the loose threads on the bed cover.
"I always thought it was funny that they saw what you didn't… How… did you not see it?" The Foundation sat next to him on the bed, staring into space before answering. "I guess I never paid much attention to what they said." The Foundation laughed quietly, seeing Jones crack a small smile at his words.
"I'll never be the one, will I?"
"You never were. I don't think anybody will be, to be honest."
Silence filled the room after that, neither of the men felt brave enough to break it. Jones leaned back onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling before laughing to himself.
"This whole ordeal changes everything between us, doesn't it?" Jones asked. The Foundation sighed, clicking the mask button on the side of his face. Without the mask, Jones could finally read his eyes.
"I don't think so. Might just build some awkwardness between us for the time being," The Foundation placed a hand on Jones' knee for a moment before pulling back as if the touch burned him. "We've been through enough together. I don't think this will break us. Do you?" The Foundation tilted his head to the blonde.
"If you asked me two weeks ago, I would've said this ruined everything," Jones sat up as he spoke. "Now? Maybe all we needed was just to talk it out..as pals."
It took everything in Jones not to cry, saying pals. They both knew he was lying. He wanted to call them more than pals, but he couldn't.
After a moment, The Foundation wrapped an arm around Jones' shoulder. Instinctively, Jones leaned into his side. The cold metal of his armor against the side of his face helped him find comfort in the situation. "I guess this ended up doing some good for me in the end… with the whole rejection ordeal.." Jones muttered. "Really? What good has happened for you?"
Jones pulled away for a moment to look him in the eyes with a weak smile. "I think you taught me a lesson that feelings are reckless. Only if you let them be, I guess"
Jones wanted to say more. God, he wished he had said more after that. Instead he left it at that, leaning back into the cold metal armor. He felt The Foundation's body language change. It was clear that his words might've fucked with him. Jones didn't care. He was still feeling a tad bit salty over the whole thing, so feeling his friend tense up at his words was a small victory. Though, deep down, Jones knew that he probably shouldn't have said those words.
For now, their friendship was still intact. No bad blood, No awkward situations. Just pure, platonic friendship between them. Or at least, that's what they both believed.