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Love Savage let out a low sigh, staring out into the galaxy before him. It was around the time he should reasonably be getting some sleep, and yet there he was. Sitting in the co-pilot seat in their new ship. He'd grabbed himself a beer in case he needed to knock himself out with some juice, but he wasn't thirsty. For once, he was thinking. It felt so unnatural.
“The hell are you doing up?” A familiar voice behind him questioned, startling the living space Hell out of him.
“Ah! Oh, uh, hey Ro,” Love Savage huffed. “What- what are you doing up?”
Roshambo rubbed his eyes, wrapped up in a dark blue robe. “I heard you grabbing something from the space fridge. Now answer my question.”
“It's… it's nothing,” Savage mumbled, fidgeting nervously with the bottle in his hands.
Suspiciously, Roshambo looked him up and down. “You look… weirdly inquisitive. It's clearly not nothing, you're using your brain!”
“Hah, you caught me there.”
Clearly feeling somewhat awkward, Roshambo sat down next to his partner in crime. “Um. You wanna, like, talk about it?”
Love Savage could tell by the look in Roshambo’s eyes that he was hoping he'd say no. But really… “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I would.”
Roshambo sighed.
Love Savage held back the urge to smirk at his negative reaction. It was kind of funny to force Ro-Ro to be emotionally vulnerable sometimes.
“Well,” he said, leaning forward. “I’ve just been thinking real hard about… y’know, my whole pheromones thing.”
“Ah, yes, how could I forget your only remarkable trait?” Roshambo sarcastically grumbled.
For a moment, Love Savage glared, before puffing out his chest. “Yes, thank you, it is quite remarkable. But, well…”
“What?”
“I’ve… started to worry that I’ll never develop a meaningful relationship.”
Roshambo’s eyes widened. “I’m- I’m sorry, did you just say what I think you said? You, the expert of fucking and going, desire actual intimacy?”
“Yeah, why is that so hard to believe?”
“Because you’re the biggest whore I know??”
Love Savage thought about it for a moment. “You’ve got a point there.”
“Like, seriously, you gotta get why I’m shocked right now.”
“I do, I do,” Love Savage pushed his hair back. “But you gotta understand it at least a little, right?”
Roshambo looked to the side, then back at Love Savage, before merely shrugging his shoulders.
Love Savage sniffed. “I guess that makes sense,” he smiled weakly, curling his legs into his chest. “You don’t know what it’s like to have to force people to like you.”
Now Roshambo was building an aura of panic. Love Savage never usually got this deep. He pursed his lips, looking away. What was the strange feeling starting to wash over him…?
“I could just be going around, charming people, giving them the sweet stuff,” Love Savage paused, tears starting to well up in his eyes. “Until I die cold and alone.”
Roshambo clenched up in discomfort. He had no idea how to respond to this. After another brief pause, a shaky sob escaped Love Savage’s throat, the sound of which made Roshambo look right back at him, frowning with wide eyes.
“I-I’m never truly alone, but I’m still LONELY,” Savage whimpered. “How can I be expected to form any genuine connections when my mere presence attracts people?? Am I even likeable without this shit?”
Finally, Roshambo found the courage to speak, “Hey, I’m sure-”
“What, you’re sure people like me?” growled Savage. “How am I supposed to believe that when I don’t even believe that YOU like me???”
Now Roshambo was slack-jawed. He didn’t know how on Zorkgrof he was meant to refute this statement.
Love Savage laughed in clear hysteria, an almost crazy look in his leaking eyes. “I got you there, didn’t I? What even am I without these stupid pheromones, huh? Just some dumb, pathetic hair metal reject who can’t muster up more than a shitty little slap in a fight? All beauty and no brains? Hell, I don’t even know if I’m actually pretty without this stupid effect!”
For a moment, the two men simply looked at each other, before Love Savage keeled forward and started bawling into his knees. Roshambo stared at him, sweating beneath his robe. Quickly, he glanced at Savage’s beer bottle. The lid wasn't even open. He swallowed nervously, and felt his pride start to wash away. An exhale slipped out of his nose.
“I… I do like you, Percy.”
Love Savage paused his sobbing at the sound of the name. Roshambo had never called him by his real name in such an earnest manner before, let alone the shortening of it he somewhat preferred. At that exact moment, an odd shiver ran down his curled spine. He peeked his head up towards him.
“...Why?” he softly questioned.
“Because I lo-” Roshambo stopped himself just in time, getting warm in the face. Never one to hesitate, he continued in a better direction. “Because I think you’re more remarkable than you realize.”
Love Savage sniffled, eyes shimmering.
“You're…” Roshambo awkwardly fiddled with his fingers. “Not the brightest sometimes, sure. But despite all of that, you’ve still managed to come up with some incredible plans purely on the spot before. I can't even count on both hands how many times you've saved our hides.”
Love Savage put a hand over his mouth to very clearly hide his growing smile. “It can't have been that many times…”
“It has! You've saved yourself, me, the baby,” Roshambo felt a wave of sentimentality rush over him, a little smile curling across his lips. “Man, that baby. I think that little dude proved one way you are smarter than me: emotionally.”
“You can be pretty stiff,” Love Savage affirmed, wiping his eyes.
“I’m more of a punch first, ask questions later kind of guy. I like it that way.”
“I like you that way, too.”
Roshambo felt that strange tingle in his heart again, ears flushing up. Love Savage smiled softly at him, before clearing his throat and glancing away, rubbing the back of his neck.
Nervously, Roshambo pressed his knees together. “Well, um… Just know that during all the times I’m a complete jerkwad to you, I don’t really mean it, aight? That’s just kind of how I roll. Without you, I’d just be some weird lone wolf,” he paused, smirking. “I mean, that’d totally be cool and hot, but… I think having someone to do fucked up shit with is a bit better.”
With tears still present in his eyes, Love Savage smiled warmly. “...So do you think I’ll find somebody someday?”
“Well, I’m no expert,” Roshambo tried to shrug as nonchalantly as possible. “But probably.”
Without warning, Love Savage proceeded to lean forward, embracing Roshambo in a tight hug. Roshambo’s eyes widened, almost instinctively shoving him off, but instead he simply stayed put. Slowly, his arms raised up, and held Savage in return. It wasn’t often he’d accept a hug, but this one felt different. He felt different. Almost as if he could finally tell Savage one final truth.
“And, um… one more thing,” he quietly began.
Love Savage hummed in intrigue right next to Roshambo’s ear.
“Listen, I um… well… there’s something else to tell you…” Roshambo began to stammer on his words.
Confused by Roshambo’s hesitation, Love Savage pulled back from the hug, looking at him with mild worry. “What?”
“I-I… I…”
Why the hell did Love Savage get 10x more beautiful, wasn’t he literally just ugly crying? Was it the pheromones talking? It almost looked like Love Savage was starting to get nervous, too, a redness forming in his cheeks.
“I-”
Boom, distraction!
“What on earth are you two doing up at this hour?” a familiar stern, motherly tone said.
Both boys whipped their heads towards the sound.
“Ah! Miss Bills!” Love Savage squeaked, awkwardly taking his hands off of Roshambo’s back and blushing harder.
“Oh, we were just… y’know, this guy couldn’t sleep, I was keeping him company,” Roshambo quickly bullshitted.
“Well, get to your sleeping pods. You’re both going to be exhausted tomorrow,” Miss Bills tutted. “Early to bed, early to rise.”
“Yes, Miss Bills,” the two guys droned in unison. They both stood up, starting to walk towards their separate sleeping chambers.
Once they were a few feet away from Miss Bills, Love Savage quietly spoke up, “Um, was anything you were about to tell me important?”
“Huh?” Roshambo then shook his head. “No. No, forget about it.” Miss Bills gave him the reality check he needed. Why the hell was he still up, and why was he about to spill his guts to Love Savage like that? How stupid was he? Did he want the unholy sanctity of the Cosmic Scoundrels to be ruined?
Love Savage looked at him, somewhat sadly, then nodded. “Ok. Goodnight, Roshambo.”
“G’night,” Roshambo mumbled, turning and disappearing into his room. Love Savage followed suit with his own room.
Before Miss Bills was to also retreat to her sleeping pod (which was still kinda bizarre to her), she stood there for a moment, brows furrowed.
“Was there something unusual about those two, or am I just realizing something about them that’s always been there?”