Archive of Our Own ^beta

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. 

No one was supposed to remember him. He had changed for the sole purpose of starting over. He wanted to forget his past, leave it behind— leave everything behind. 

Yet, in front of him stands the main thing he wanted to forget. 

_________________

Two days ago

“Hey, Scara! Did you hear we can’t pick our roommates this year?” 

Scaramouche scoffs and rolls his eyes. “That’s dumb. What did they do that shit for?”

Kazuha shrugs as he sits next to his best friend on the couch. He had just come over from next door as soon as he read the email from their university. A new semester starts soon, signaling the beginning of their third year. Move in day is in two days, though. 

“They said it’s for us to meet new people and make friends. It’s a load of—“

“Bullshit.” Scaramouche finishes for him, knowing Kazuha doesn’t curse much, if at all. 

Kazuha chuckles, “Yeah, that. If we’re not at least neighbors I’ll riot.”

“We better fucking not be neighbors; I’ve had enough of you. Also, you already are my neighbor.”

Kazuha lays his head on Scaramouche’s lap. The latter scowls, but makes no move to push him off. “That’s only when we’re home on holidays, so it doesn’t count.”

Scaramouche wants to whack him with the remote. “Our entire childhood doesn’t count? You’re fucking unbelievable, get out of my house.”

Kazuha giggles, and pokes his cheek. “Aunty Nahida would kick your ass.”

Scaramouche glares down at him, and flicks his forehead. “No cursing.”

The two boys remained silent after that, watching whatever shitty show Scaramouche has on. They seriously can’t pick roommates this year? Kazuha is the only person he can tolerate, and that’s because they’ve been neighbors for forever. Whatever, Scara will just ignore the person. They probably won’t be important anyway. 

______________

So, that was a lie. 

Kind of. 

His roommate is someone who used to be important. Someone who used to make him feel things, but he’s been since buried any emotions. Especially romantic ones. 

Scaramouche stares at his ex-boyfriend, Childe. He looks the same: gray attire, dead blue eyes, ginger hair, and so many fucking freckles it’s ridiculous. Scara doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. 

“Dude, you good? You’ve been standing there and staring at me for like five minutes.” 

Archons, his voice even sounds the same. It pisses Scaramouche off. 

The dorms are akin to those tiny apartments. There’s a small kitchen and living room space, along with one bathroom and two bedrooms. They’re on the fourth floor so they also have a tiny balcony, just big enough for them both. 

“Shut up.” Scaramouche automatically responds because what the fuck else is he supposed to say? His day was fine until he got here. 

The ginger fuck slightly glares at him. “Excuse me? What’s your problem?”

Scaramouche seethes, “What’s my problem? Are you dumb? It’s you, you’re the problem.”

The guy only glares harder at Scaramouche. It’s reminding him of when they first met; He had been an asshole to Childe back then, too, but the taller male reciprocated his energy. It gave Scaramouche a rush. 

“Okay, first of all, fuck you. Secondly, how am I a problem? We literally just met!”

…So now he’s acting like he doesn’t know Scara? Real fucking mature. 

Scaramouche pushes against his cheek with his tongue, making a small clicking noise, “Okay, what the fuck do you mean by that?”

Scaramouche hadn’t changed that much. Had he? Sure, he didn’t want his old self to be remembered, but Childe is acting like he got a whole new face. What parallel universe did Scaramouche just walk into? He feels strange despite this being exactly what he wants. No one is supposed to remember him, specifically Childe, so what is this weird feeling? 

Scaramouche ignores it. 

The taller male shrugs, “It means what it means? Look, dude, if us being roommates ticks you off that much— even though I didn’t do anything— we can talk to administration about switching.” 

Now why the fuck would Scara want to do that? Both of their shit is already here, so it’ll be too much of a hassle for one of them to move out already. Also, Scara refuses to let Childe win this. If he agrees, he’ll look like a little bitch. 

Scaramouche shakes his head, “No, it’s whatever. You just look like someone I used to know.”

“… That wasn’t an actual apology.”

“You probably aren’t getting one. I’m not one for saying sorry. I’ll acknowledge I’m wrong, but you won’t get a sappy sorry. You better not have picked the good room.” Scaramouche says, carrying his bags to the empty room. 

The taller man looks at Scara’s back with confusion, anger, and amusement. “I’m Childe, by the way!” 

“Don’t care.” He calls from the room, and shuts the door. 

Childe doesn’t see him for the rest of the day. 

_____________

“You’re freaking joking. You have to be!” 

“I wish it was a fucking joke. I wanted to stab him as soon as I walked through the damn door.”

Kazuh shakes his head in disbelief. He seriously can’t believe Scaramouche’s ex is back. They had quite the nasty break up. Kazuha didn’t see his best friend cry once, but he knew the break up hurt. It hurt enough for Scaramouche to change his entire appearance. 

He had pretty, long hair that is now cut down in the hime style. He used to wear lighter colored clothes like blues and white, but now it’s all black and red. He usually had a smile on his face, but now it’s permanently a scowl or disinterest. They way he talks is about the same, but it was a little nicer back then as well. 

Kazuha’s best friend changed right before his eyes, but he loves Scara, so he supports him in anything he does. Kazuha actually liked his new look, and he always will. 

“Well, I hope he isn’t going to be around that often. SCU is pretty big, so I doubt you’ll run into him.” 

Scaramouche sighs and leans back against the couch. They had met up in the lounge in their dorm building after unpacking. There’s only a few other students with them. 

Kazuha is right, though. Sumeru City University is a big ass campus. There’s four coffee shops for crying out loud. He can’t possibly run into Childe. Being roommates with him is enough. 

“Tell me about your roommate.” Scara suddenly says, no longer wanting to think about his own. 

Kazuha perks up and smiles, “I have two! Their names are Venti and Heizou! They’re so funny, and cool. Venti is a fourth year, and Heizou is a third year like us. Oh! They invited us to a welcome party on Friday at some frat,”

Scaramouche smiles, but it ends up looking more like a smirk, “Ah, you’re so quick to replace me. Well, I’m glad they’re gonna take you off my hands; you’re annoying.”

Kazuha pouts and flicks his forehead, “Be nice to me. They could never replace you, we’ve been neighbors since forever. We’re still neighbors even now,”

Scaramouche snorts. “You live a floor below me.”

“ Directly below you: 405 and 305,”

“Gods, I hate you,” Scara rolls his eyes good-naturedly, “What time is the party?” 

Kazuha shrugs, “Venti said show up any time after eight,” 

“We’ll be there at ten, then. I’m assuming he isn’t part of the frat?”

Kazuha shakes his head, “No, but his friend is. You know what Heizou told me? Venti has an older boyfriend. Said the guy is a grad student, probably twenty-eight.”

Scaramouche listened as Kazuha rambled on about his roommates. He doesn’t know how Kazuha can be sociable and an introvert at the same time. The thought makes Scara nauseous. 

_________________

When he gets back up to his room, it’s 11pm at night. He hopes the ginger fuck is asleep, or at least in his own room. But when has the world ever been kind to Scaramouche?

“Hey, welcome back comrade!” Childe greets happily, standing in the kitchen. 

Scaramouche barely acknowledges him, and heads straight to the bathroom for a shower. Of fucking course, Childe follows him. Scara tries to slam the door in his face, but Childe is quicker. He forgot how fast the taller man’s reflexes are. 

“Hey, sorry, but I have to tell you something. Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot, but it’s still early. Let’s start with a clean slate, yeah? We don’t have to be friends, but being civil with each other is good enough. How does that sound?” He’s smiling that dumb smile and his dull eyes are sparkling with hope. 

Scaramouche wants to crush that hope. 

Scara scoffs, arms folded over his chest, “I’d rather eat a bowl of nails than be civil with you. We can simply just ignore each other. That sounds great to me.”

Childe scowls down at him, “Dude, I’m trying here-“

“Didn’t ask you to.”

“You’re fucking annoying, you know?”

“I do, now tell me something new.”

Childe groans, “You’re insufferable! We literally just met and you’re acting like I killed your entire fucking family!”

We just met. 

Scaramouche wants to choke slam him. 

“Maybe you fucking did.” He says sternly and slams the bathroom door shut. 

“Hey! You almost got my fingers!” 

“Fuck off!” Scara shouts and turns on the shower, drowning out Childe’s annoying voice. 

“Can I at least know your name?!”

Scara doesn’t answer him. A moment later he hears a door slam. 

Their RA is going to hate them. 

________________

It’s finally Friday night and Scaramouche is tired. 

This entire week was a hassle. He had to literally cuss out his advisor for fucking up his classes, he had to help Kazuha with some poetry club thing, and he’s been trying to keep his aunt from visiting. Him and Childe haven’t spoken since Monday, and it’s pure bliss. It’s the only upside to his week. 

Now, he’s ready for a damn drink. 

He just finished getting ready, which isn’t different from his usual attire. The only difference is he’s wearing jewelry. He’s got on black, baggy cargo pants with a black, tight shirt and a red mesh shirt underneath. He put on his old red converse and wore three rings, two silver chains, and put in his triple helix piercings. He usually only wears one, but he figures all three won’t hurt. First impressions and all (he doesn’t care, but Kazuha does).

When the clock strikes 9:45, there’s a knock on the front door. Scaramouche grabs his phone from the charger, and leaves his room, closing the door. Childe has been gone all day, but he still doesn’t want the fucker to look in his room whenever he comes back. 

“Hey, you look good! My husband knows how to dress,” Kazuha says as soon as Scara opens the door. 

Scaramouche punches his arm, “Can you stop fucking calling me that? It got old back in elementary school.” He walks down the hallway to the elevator, and Kazuha follows him while rubbing his sore arm. 

“You know I bruise easily. People are going to assume the worse, and I’ll have to tell a counselor my husband abuses me,”

“Do you fucking want me to leave more bruises? Because I will if you don’t shut the fuck up.” 

Kazuha chuckles, “Fine, fine I’ll lay off. You’re no fun. Party pooper,”

Scaramouche looks at his friend. He really looks at him. He squints his eyes in suspicion, “You’re high. That’s why you’re acting like a dumbass.”

Kazuha giggles and nods. “I’m not completely gone. Just a little pre-game. Want some?” He pulls out a pen from his pocket. 

Scaramouche shakes his head, “Wait until we get outside.”

When they reach the frat house, the party is in full swing. There’s people out on the front lawn either talking in groups or someone is throwing up. The music can be heard from outside— hell, they heard it from down the street. Upon entering the house, it’s packed from the front door all the way to the back. 

Scaramouche feels Kazuha grab his hand tightly. He mentally rolls his eyes, but doesn’t let go. There’s people dancing everywhere and people standing in corners with drinks in their hands. Some couches and chairs are pushed against the walls where some people are making out or just talking. They find the kitchen pretty quickly, and there’s even people in here. 

There’s a sliding door further back that leads to the backyard. Some people are out there as well, but Scaramouche can’t tell what’s happening. Maybe smoking. 

They approach the bar, and eye their options. Scara points to a bucket full of ice filled with colorful drinks, “Look, they’ve got your favorite. That fruity shit you like.”

Kazuha’s eyes light up and he grabs a pink one. These drinks aren’t high in alcohol content, which is perfect because Kazuha likes to be cross faded but more from weed. Scara grabs a beer just as a starter. He likes to ease his way into drinking, going for something stronger as the night goes on. 

They go back out into the crowd and find a corner to chill in. Scaramouche looks around and sees some people he recognizes from first year when they had to take mandatory classes. People are dancing like nobody's watching: jumping around without a care or grinding against one another. Scara never understood sensual dancing. Even if he was drunk off of his ass you’d never catch him dancing like that. He never even danced like that with Childe. 

To be fair, he never danced with Childe ever. 

The fact that he’s thinking about the ginger fucker right now means he needs more alcohol. He chugs his beer and tosses the can on the floor with the others. 

“Hey, I’m gonna get more, be right back. Do not move.” He yells into Kazuha’s ear. His friend nods slowly. 

He doesn’t trust Kazuha when the guy is high. He has a tendency to walk off and make new friends. Scaramouche didn’t like being alone at parties. He went into the kitchen and grabbed a red solo cup. He filled it up about halfway with tequila, and nothing else. He goes back to their corner and of course the idiot is gone. Scara nearly crushes the cup in his hand, but can he really be mad? He knew this would happen no matter how much he threatened Kazuha. 

He pushes through the crowd, slightly scrunching his nose at the smell of sweat and alcohol. Where the fuck could he have gone? Someone bumps into him, making him drop his cup. 

“Fuck! Watch where you’re fucking going, asswipe!” Scaramouche yells, but he doubts the person can hear over the music. 

The [tall] person turns around and Scaramouche wants to punch the damn wall. Of course, it’s Childe. 

Childe smiles lazily, and his eyes are unfocused. Great, he’s drunk. “Heyyy comrade! What’s up?!”

He throws an arm around Scara’s shoulders and the shorter man pushes him off. “Don’t fucking touch me. Move out of my way.” 

Childe just smirks and shakes his head, “Nope! You need to loosen up! Have a drink!” He hands over his own cup, and Scaramouche cringes. 

“Disgusting. You probably drugged it.”

Childe pouts, “I didn’t! I can barely hear you, by the way!”

Scaramouche is about to walk away from the bastard until he feels a hand grip his wrist. Before he can protest, he’s being pulled through the crowd by Childe. He’s yelling at the beanstalk to let him go, but his words fall on deaf ears. 

Childe doesn’t stop dragging him until they end up in the bathroom. Childe locks the door and turns to face him. Scara is glaring at him like he’s never glared before, “What the fuck is wrong with you?! You’re literally fucking deranged. Let me out.”

Childe shakes his head, “No. Not until you apologize.”

“Apologize for fucking what? I don’t even talk to you.” 

Scaramouche is slightly worried that in his drunken haze, Childe remembered him. Which doesn’t make sense because Scaramouche doesn’t want Childe to remember. Maybe if the fucker wasn’t drunk off of his ass, then Scaramouche wouldn’t be so damn worried. 

He shoves the thought to the back of his mind. 

“And that’s the problem! We’re going to be roommates for the whole year, we should get to know each other. It’s going to be awkward,”

“It’s only awkward for you, dumbass. I’m perfectly fine. Now, I need to leave to find my high ass friend. Move,” Scara shoves him aside, but somehow he keeps forgetting about Childe’s reflexes. 

Childe grabs his wrist, pulling him back, and pushes him against the sink. He cages Scaramouche in with his long arms on either side of the shorter man, leaning down slightly with a smirk. 

“Leaving so soon? Your friend is fine, I’m sure they can handle themselves.” 

He’s so close, he’s so close, he’s so fucking close. Scaramouche can smell the alcohol on his breath and he needs to escape. He can't be this close to Childe, he swore to himself that he never would ever get close to the ginger again. Physically, mentally, or emotionally. 

Scaramouche can feel his breathing pick up. He needs to leave now. Childe is still smirking at him, his blue eyes filled with mischief and dare Scara say lust. He knows these eyes all too well; fell victim to them every single time. He had been weak, but not this time. 

Never again. 

Scaramouche shoves him away hard, and Childe stumbles back against the wall. Scara leaves the stuffy bathroom quickly. He texts Kazuha that he’s leaving, and finds the front door. 

The entire walk home he thinks about what it would be like if Childe had remembered. 

___________________

The following Monday, classes began. Scaramouche attends classes on Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday of each week. Kazuha has nearly the same schedule: Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday. They find time to hang out in between their classes as well. 

When the week is over, Scaramouche is somehow drained. It’s been nothing but introductions and stupid ice breakers. He’s glad to be starting actual work next week. It’s finally Friday, and Scaramouche throws himself onto the couch in his dorm. He turns on the tv and finds a random cooking show. 

He hasn’t seen Childe since the party. He was pissed at first because how dare the fucker run away? He owes Scaramouche an apology for trapping him in the bathroom. Also, what was with the weird flirting? It made a shiver go down his spine. 

Now that the week is over, and he hasn’t seen Childe at all, he doesn’t care. It’s peaceful, it’s like having his own dorm room or his own apartment. His own space. 

The door opens a moment later and Kazuha walks in. He has a bag full of snacks and drinks to binge for the night. 

“Honey, I’m home,” He says, closing the door. He smiles softly at Scaramouche as he makes his way over to the couch. 

Scaramouche rolls his eyes, “I think I'll have movie night by myself. Thanks for the snacks.” He takes the bag from his friend as soon as he sits down. He hands Kazuha the remote as a trade. 

“Your actions contradict your words, and I think I like that most about you.”

“Shut the hell up, nosy neighbor.”

Kazuha chuckles at the nickname as he finds a movie. Ever since Kazuh started visiting Scaramouche next door, the latter has called him a nosy neighbor. Kazuha went over every day and asked Scaramouche a simple question: what are you doing with that? Only because Scaramouche liked to play in the dirt and was always finding small bugs and such. 

Three hours, 4 bags of chips, and 2 family sized sodas later, Childe comes back. Kazuha and Scaramouche barely pay attention, too sleepy to notice their surroundings. Scara will never let Kazuha talk him into binge eating junk food ever again. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows it’s a lie. 

Childe looks at them briefly, but Scara doesn’t pay him any mind. Kazuha throws a small wave before giving the tv his attention again. Childe stands there and notices how close they look. He didn’t think Scaramouche had a partner, let alone any friends. He seemed like the loner type when he met him, but Childe guesses he shouldn’t judge so quickly. 

“What the fuck are you staring at?” Scara’s voice rang out in the dorm. He’s glaring at Childe, who is still standing there. 

Childe shakes his head, “Nothing, my bad, comrade. Uh, is that a friend of yours?” 

“No.”

“Yes!”

Childe stares confused at them. “Which is it?”

“None of your fucking business. Go away.” 

Kazuha pouts and flicks his forehead, “Be nice,” He turns to face Childe a polite smile, “We’ve been friends since childhood. We’re actually neighbors.”

Scara glares at his best friend, harshly whispering, “Why the fuck would you tell him that? What if he remembers? Fuck you, Kazuha,”

Kazuha only chuckles, and pats Scaramouche’s head softly. “Don’t worry, yeah?” He knows that Scaramouche is conflicted about wanting his ex to remember him, especially after what happened at the party. Kazuha didn’t like Childe for what he had done to Scaramouche back then when they broke up. He definitely doesn’t like him now that he learned about the party. 

Childe feels like he interrupted something, so he just nods, “That’s cool. See ya around.” He went into his room, and shut the door. 

He leaned against it and sighed. 

Why did his chest hurt when seeing them together?

_______________

The next few weeks are quiet. Scaramouche and Childe fall into a rhythm that neither of them acknowledge. It ensures that they’re never in the dorm with each other for more than a few hours at a time, except for at night when they go to bed. Scara had classes in the morning and Childe’s first class was at noon. They briefly see each other as Childe leaves the dorm and Scara comes back, usually with Kazuha in tow. 

They hang out in the dorm until dinner time. That’s when Scaramouche sees Childe again. They could cook in their dorm, but the food in the cafeteria is free and decent. Childe is usually in there with a small group. They’re all loud, and laughing at whatever. Not that Scaramouche ever pays attention. 

At least, not much. 

He subtly takes glances at Childe’s table. The ginger fucker still hasn’t apologized for the party, and Scara is starting to wonder if he was too drunk to remember. He watches as the freckled face smiles brightly, eyes squeezed shut. His sweater with the university’s logo on it is slightly too big, but it still fits perfectly. His hair is the same as ever. 

Scaramouche remembers when he used to always chide Childe for doing the same style. He wanted to see how the taller man looked with different styles, but Childe wasn’t that adventurous. Not in that area. He was mostly adventurous with their relationship; wanting to try new date ideas and new things in bed. Childe was unpredictable and Scaramouche lived for it. He loved the rush, and the unknown. He trusted Childe would show him a good time, and the taller man always did, never letting him down. 

Their breakup was a shock to Scaramouche. He thought everything was fine, perfect even. He thought they loved each other, but he learned that people lie and can’t be trusted. He felt betrayed. 

He hadn’t felt that since he was young when his mother abandoned him. 

Scaramouche hated to admit it, but the heartbreak fucked him up. Which is why he changed his appearance, and even his personality. He grew meaner, and bottled up his emotions to toss out. The only thing he felt was gratitude toward his aunt and Kazuha. He avoided any type of interaction, especially from people who showed interest. Whether it was friendship or something more. He only needed Kazuha. 

Kazuha never betrayed him, and never broke his heart. If anything, he helped put the pieces back together and Scaramouche will forever be grateful. 

Fuck Childe. 

Fuck Childe and his stupid, handsome face. Fuck Childe and his tall ass muscular body. Fuck Childe and his melodic voice, his laughter sounding like music to Scara’s ears. Fuck Childe and his—

“Scara! Are you listening to me? You’re so zoned out.” Kazuha looks concerned. 

Scara looks away from Childe, “I’m fine. Sorry. What were you saying?”

Kazuha’s eyes flicker over to what Scaramouche was staring at and quietly sighs. He won’t say anything, though, because he knows Scara will deny it and possibly start an argument. 

He just repeats whatever he had said earlier. 

_______________

They’re two months into the semester now. They’ve gotten into the swing of things with their classes and homework and studying. They still barely say a word to each other when they’re in their dorm at the same time. 

Whenever they saw each other at parties, Scaramouche would go the other way even if he had just come from that direction. He goes out of his way to avoid the ginger, but doesn’t know that Childe isn’t playing his little game. Childe has never once tried to avoid Scaramouche. He only talked to the shorter male when he needed to because he respects Scaramouche’s boundaries. 

Childe just shows up, and Scaramouche leaves. He still doesn’t know why Scaramouche hates him. What had he done? What could he have possibly done? They just met! Yet, Scaramouche hates him like he knows him. 

Childe doesn’t understand and he wants to know. He needs to know why Scaramouche doesn’t like him. Does Childe remind him of someone? Does he look like someone Scaramouche knows? Or does Childe just give off awful vibes? 

Today is the day he will get answers. 

He accidentally overheard Scaramouche and his friend (?) talking about going to a party tonight. Maybe he can follow Scaramouche when he runs. Sure, he’ll look like a maniac, but this conversation needs to happen. 

A few hours later, Childe is spinning. Or is the room spinning? Since he wanted to talk to Scaramouche, he decided to not get too drunk. He took two shots for liquid courage, and went to go find his roommate. Childe found him downstairs in the basement where people usually smoke and hot box. He didn’t peg Scaramouche as a pothead (his friend, on the other hand, is way too relaxed for a college student), so finding him there was a surprise. 

But, what was even more surprising was the state he found them in. 

They were on a couch in the corner, and it was kind of dark but Childe wouldn’t mistake Scaramouche. He only needs to see a face once to commit it to memory. They were smiling, talking in hushed voices, and Childe was shocked to see that Scaramouche was capable of smiling. He thought his roommate was only capable of anger. 

Suddenly, they leaned in closer and the friend had a hand on Scaramouche’s thigh. Childe felt like he wasn’t supposed to be watching, yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away. His heart was beating rapidly and his stomach dropped to his ass when the two of them kissed. They kissed like they had done it plenty of times. Childe felt strange. Why did he care so much? What those two were wasn’t any of Childe’s business. 

So, why did it make his chest hurt?

He left in a rush, and that’s how he ended up here: drunk as shit in the backyard. Every time he moves his head, the world blurs for an insignificant amount of time before his eyes focus again. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. Scaramouche means nothing to him. He isn’t more than just a roommate. 

Scaramouche is barely even a roommate. 

Childe doesn’t particularly like him, nor does he hate the shorter man. He just wants to talk to him. Maybe if he finds out why Scaramouche hates him, they could be friends. Childe could apologize and they could start over. 

He hears the sliding door open, the booming music filling the yard, and close again, muffling the sounds from inside. Someone throws themselves onto the chair next to Childe. 

“Needed some air?” Childe says, trying to be polite. Drunk or sober, he’s always been a social butterfly. 

“Something like that. Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me,”

Childe turns his head too fast, and his eyes can’t focus in time, but he recognizes the annoyed tone. 

“Hey! Oh, fuck, I can’t see straight,” Childe groans, and sets down his cup. Maybe he should stop drinking. 

Scaramouche makes a disgusted noise, and gets up to leave. Childe notices this, though, and grabs whatever he can reach, “Wait! Please, don’t go!”

Coincidentally, he grabbed Scaramouche’s hand. 

Scara tries to pull his hand away, but Childe holds tighter, “Let me go! I refuse to have a repeat of last time!”

Childe is confused. “Last time? What happened last time?”

“Nothing, now let me go before I kick your ass!”

“No, please, sit down. I need to talk to you,” Childe begs, lightly tugging on his hand. 

Scaramouche glares harshly at him, “I don’t want to fucking talk to you.”

Childe sighs, starting to get annoyed. “You owe me some fucking answers.”

“I don’t owe you shit!”

“Yes you do! Why do you hate me? I don’t even know you! You don’t even know me !”

Scara stops resisting upon hearing those words. He’s too crossfaded for this. He can’t do this, not right now. But, his mouth betrays him. 

“I know everything about you.”

Childe just stares in shock. What does that mean?

Scara continues, “You know everything about me. Don’t say that.”

His mouth is betraying him. He doesn’t want to say these words, doesn’t want to admit how much Childe’s words hurt him. They shouldn’t hurt him. He’s over Childe, it’s been three years for god's sake. But, why does Scara feel like crying? Why does he feel like telling Childe every single thought he had since the day they ended it? He wants to tell Childe everything that has happened since he left. He wants to tell Childe how much his aunt Nahida misses him even though she doesn’t say it. He wants to tell Childe how much Kazuha hates him now because it’s funny to think of his sweetheart best friend hating someone. 

But he can’t. 

He refuses to. 

Scaramouche refuses to be vulnerable in front of Childe again. It’ll only end in betrayal. 

Childe stares up at him from his chair, taking in every detail of his face. He had this strange feeling of deja vu in the back of his mind ever since they met. His brain kept telling Childe that Scaramouche is familiar, but could never put his finger on it. So, he ignored it. 

However, he can’t ignore it this time. 

“Who are you? I… I don’t know you, but…” 

And there goes those words again, stabbing Scara in the heart. A punch to the face would hurt less. 

Scaramouche shakes his head, and smiles but it’s bittersweet. “Please, don’t say that ever again.” 

His hand slips from Childe’s slack hold. “But I…”

Scaramouche walks away, not looking back once. He disappears back into the house, and Childe immediately loses sight of him. 

How does he know Scaramouche?

_________________

“And then he kept saying that I know him? I clearly don’t! He confuses me to no end, Yoi!” Childe whines, laying his head on his textbook. 

He’s outside in the courtyard with one of his closest friends Yoimiya. They wanted to have a study session for their test in a few days. However, it turned into rant about Childe’s roommate. 

Not that Yoimiya minds, she needed a break anyway. Her mind has begun to drift as she was solving physics problems. 

“But you don’t know him? Not even from like high school or something?” Yoimiya quips, eating a fruit snack. 

Childe shakes his head, “No, I really can’t think of anything. I mean, I’ve had this strange feeling,”

Yoimiya raises a brow, “About what?”

Childe shrugs. “Like I’ve seen him before. I can’t remember, though.”

Yoimiya taps her chin in thought, humming quietly. Then, she realizes something, “Oh! Didn’t you say you had an ex? Maybe they look alike?”

Childe purses his lips in thought. No, that can’t be it. His ex was way different, way more nice than that guy. His ex was brighter, too. Always had a smile on his face, and wasn’t angry 24/7. However, that’s all he remembers. Every time Childe tried to imagine his face, it was blurry. He remembers their breakup as well, it was terrible; so much yelling and crying. 

His ex’s face is still a mystery. 

“Nah, they’re absolutely nothing alike.” 

Yoimiya pouts, “Oh, I thought I had it. Sorry, Childe. I hope you guys can solve things soon!” 

Childe nods slowly, “Yeah… Me too.”

_________________

Something had shifted. 

After that conversation at the party, the air in their dorm seemed to change. Or maybe Scaramouche had changed. 

Well, not changed per se. More like… he stopped avoiding Childe. Scara doesn’t fully understand it himself. He’s supposed to hate Childe, not want to be anywhere near him. Getting too close would only result in disaster. 

He doesn’t talk to Childe, not exactly. Sometimes Scaramouche would make dinner, and nonchalantly say that Childe can have some if he wants. It usually ends up being just enough for a second person. Or he would just casually join Childe on the couch to watch tv whenever they both have a free day. 

“What are you doing?” Childe had asked the first time he did it. 

Scaramouche had scowled at him, “I’m fucking watching tv, what does it look like.”

Childe never asked him again after that. It’s a slow, transitional thing. Childe finds himself staying at their dorm more and more. Scaramouche doesn’t leave as much, either. However, Kazuha is over there more often than not, so Childe ends up staying in his room. He doesn’t like seeing them together. He believed that this was his and Scaramouche’s time where they watched tv while eating dinner in near silence. It isn’t much, but Scaramouche doesn’t yell and curse at him; it’s progress. 

That’s how it ends up tonight. Childe just got back from his last class, and it’s almost six— dinner time. He walks in, ready to greet his roommate, who is usually standing at the stove, but stops short in his tracks upon hearing laughter. He sees his roommate and his friend on the couch. There’s multiple beer bottles and a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. The tv is playing at a low volume as they face each other. Childe isn’t sure what’s going on, but he decides not to interrupt. He goes straight into his room, and shuts the door, albeit with a little more force than necessary. 

He’s awfully confused. He doesn’t understand why he feels this way. He barely knows his roommate, and his friend even less. Maybe Childe has grown used to their time spent together, despite it only having been a few weeks since they started it. He likes it, though. It’s the civility he wanted at the beginning of the semester, but he didn’t think he’d become borderline obsessed with it. He had a plan to try to make small talk with his roommate, get to know him a little bit. 

He thought he’d get to finally know his damn name. 

He asked a lot, but his roommate always ignored him or told Childe to fuck off. He wondered if his roommate simply just didn’t like his name. But it dawned on him that the shorter man just hated Childe that much to not even tell him something simple like a name. 

He throws his backpack on the floor, and sits on his bed with a heavy sigh. He puts on his headphones to drown out the laughter in the living room.

On the other side, Kazuh is laughing uncontrollably. Scaramouche hasn’t said anything that funny, but Kazuha acts like he’s a comedian. Or it could just be that he’s crossfaded. Both of them are, but Kazuha is gone. 

“Stop fucking laughing, you weirdo! I didn’t even say anything funny.” Scara gently shoves him by the shoulder, chuckling at him. 

“Yes, y-you did!” Kazuha exclaims, trying to calm down. He laughs a bit more and coughs, so Scara hands him a bottle. Kazuha drinks some, and wipes the tears from his eyes. 

“Are you fucking done now, lunatic?” Scara asks him. 

Kazuha nods, “All good. Sorry, it was so dang funny. Hey, does your roommate smoke?” 

Scaramouche shrugs. He’s only seen Childe drink. “I dunno. Go ask him.”

“Can I? Are you sure? I don’t want to upset you, hun.” 

Scaramouche scrunches his nose at the dumb pet name. “I don’t give a shit what you do. He doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

Which is a lie. 

Scaramouche has been thinking about Childe all night. He noticed the ginger when he came home, and saw the disappointment on his freckled face. He wonders why that is. He’s always with Kazuha, so why did Childe seem pissed off? And, why did Scaramouche like it? 

Questions for later. 

Kazuha gets up and goes to Childe’s room. He knocks loudly and Scara giggles, taking a sip of beer. The door opens and Childe pulls his headphones out. 

“Hiiii,” Kazuha says with a wave. 

Childe raises an eyebrow, “Hey?” 

Kazuha giggles, and twirls a strand of hair around his finger. Scaramouche wants to gag; Kazuha does this a lot when he tries to flirt with someone at parties. 

“I have a question… Um, do you by chance smoke weed? I have some edibles if you want to join us.” Kazuha smiles sweetly at Childe, and Scara hides his laugh behind a pillow. 

Childe gives him an awkward smile, “Um, no thanks. I'm not a fan of it.”

Kazuha pouts at that. “Aw, are you sure? It would be so much fun if you could join us. You know what they say: the more the merrier. Right, hun?” Kazuha directs the last part at Scaramouche. 

Scara looks at Childe for a moment. He finds that he does want the ginger to join them. He wants to see what Childe is like when he’s high. He nods. 

Kazuha looks back at Childe, “I feel bad for taking away your guys’ time. He tells me that you guys have dinner together. Let me make it up to you.” Kazuha gently grabs Childe’s hand, and pulls him out of the room. 

Childe doesn’t know why he lets himself be dragged away. Maybe Kazuha’s flirting worked on him. Maybe he just wanted to spend time with his roommate. Childe kind of wants the friend to leave, but it’s his edibles that Childe is about to eat. He isn’t that mean. 

Kazuha pushes him onto the couch, and sits down himself so that Childe is in between them. Kazuha smiles, “Relax, yeah? If you have a bad reaction, we’ll take care of you. Won't we, sweetie?” 

Scaramouche rolls his eyes.

Kazuha giggles and grabs a ziplock bag off the coffee table. It’s full of gummy bears and he pulls out two. “Let’s start off easy. Do you want another one, babe?” 

“No. I gotta be sober enough to take care of your ass.” Scara says. 

Kazuha shrugs and eats one himself. He looks at Childe, who is just staring at the gummies in his hand. “It’s okay, eat them. They work pretty fast, but we got you.”

Childe takes a deep breath. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous; it’s just weed. Something he’s never tried before. He shouldn’t trust either of them considering they’re both under the influence, and he doesn’t. Childe really doesn’t trust either of them, but the silver haired male seems to know what he’s talking about. Childe trusts him more than his roommate. 

So, he eats them. They taste like regular gummy bears. Childe isn’t sure what he was expecting them to taste like. He will say they’re a little tougher than regular gummy bears, but otherwise not too bad. 

“How long does it usually take?” Childe asks after swallowing. 

Kazuha shrugs, “Maybe twenty minutes for these. They’re pretty strong. Here, have a drink,” He hands Childe his leftover beer. 

Childe eyes it nervously. Scara scoffs from beside him. “Just drink it, scaredy cat.” 

“I’m not scared,” Childe glares at him. He chugs the beer, and sets the bottle down with a loud thump. “There. So, what, you guys just sit here until it hits?”

Kazuha shrugs, “Yeah, and amongst other things.” He giggles to himself. 

“Can you shut the fuck up?” Scaramouche says harshly. He doesn’t want the ginger fuck to know what Scara does in his own time. 

Kazuha laughs some more, and holds his hands up in surrender. Childe looks between them. He has an inkling of what they mean, but he finds himself asking anyway. 

“What do you mean? What else do you guys do?”

He isn’t sure if he regrets it or not. Depending on their answer, he’ll see. 

His roommate groans and gets up to go to the fridge. Kazuha giggles uncontrollably and it makes Childe want to know even more. So, he doesn’t regret it. 

“Tell me, yeah? I’m curious now because of your reaction.” Childe says, leaning closer to the giggling man. Maybe he could flirt his way through this like the guy had done with Childe. 

Kazuha takes notice immediately. He’s surprised that Childe is attempting something with Scaramouche in the room. Kazuha flirts to get what he wants, but he never means it. He only does it when he’s high, too. 

“Well, I mean, you can use that big brain of yours, no? Or did it hit you already? Unless, you really want to know?” Kazuha says quietly, a hand creeping up Childe’s thigh. 

Scara rolls his eyes, but doesn’t stop it. He knows his best friend. This is all just a game to him, anyway. He thinks it’s because he’s high and drunk, but he wants to join in on teasing Childe. The ginger doesn’t remember him anyway, so why not? 

It goes against his vow to not go anywhere near Childe, but he’s crossfaded. Liquid courage and all that shit. 

So, Scaramouche squeezes next to Kazuha, and puts an arm around him. “Are you telling our secrets, dear?” 

Kazuha turns to the side with a smirk, “Of course not, sweetie,” He turns back to Childe, “If I were you, I’d stop asking questions. He gets mad at me when I tell our secrets.” 

Childe feels something ugly unfurl in his chest as he looks at them being so close. The way they touch, how they talk to each other. They’re always together. Literally always. Are they dating? Just fuck buddies? What are they?

“Can you tell me just one then? I’m curious about something.” Childe asks with a sly grin. 

“Yeah? What is it?” Scara asks, rubbing Kazuha’s thigh, making sure Childe sees it. 

Kazuha bites his lip, trying to keep his eyes on Childe. The taller man looks between them, hates it, but he can’t deny it’s hot. 

“Are you guys like dating or just fucking around? You seem closer than just childhood friends.” Childe says, bringing a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind Kazuha’s ear. 

“Aww, can I tell him, sweetie? Can I? Can I?” Kazuha pretends to beg, showing Scaramouche a big pout. 

Scaramouche only chuckles, and pecks his lips. “Go ahead, babe,” 

Childe forces himself to calm down. It was just a stupid kiss, it shouldn’t matter to him. It’s their business not his. 

“We are close friends, you know. We’ve only had each other, so we figured why not have some fun? Plus, we’re in college and it’s the best place to try new things right?” Kazuha explains, leaning back onto Scara. The gummy he just ate kicked in. 

Childe blinks, and adjusts himself. He moves his hand and then looks around. His body feels weird; like it’s moving in slow motion. Scaramouche smirks, and whispers in Kazuha’s ear, “I think it hit him.”

Kazuha giggles, “Are you okay?”

Childe takes approximately a minute and a half to answer. “Yeah… I think,” His speech is slower, and his pupils have dilated, and become unfocused. 

He isn’t sure he likes this. It’s way different than being drunk. Childe feels like he isn’t in his own body, like he can’t control himself. He tries not to freak out, though. He heard that only makes it worse. Childe takes a few deep breaths, and blinks again. He keeps reminding himself to blink. 

Scaramouche is thriving right now. His ex looks completely lost, and like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He laughs wickedly and Kazuha chastises him. 

“Shut up! It’s his first time,” 

“But he looks so fucking stupid!” 

Childe can barely keep up with the conversation. He’s only been high for five minutes (he thinks) and he wants to lay down already. He wants to sleep. 

He looks at the other two, “Guys, I think— Oh,” 

Scaramouche and Kazuha are in their own world, making out right in front of him. What the actual fuck? Does Childe not matter any more? He wants to separate them, keep the silver haired man away from his roommate. He can’t put his finger on it, but he feels so protective of his roommate. He just wants to pull the shorter man close to his chest so the world can’t touch him. 

He’s hit with another wave of deja vu. He suddenly remembers his ex, and how he used to hold them. He always held them close, and they would say they like the sound of his heart beating. Childe tries to picture a face, or a voice but it’s only blurred out. Why does that happen?

Scaramouche has been subtly watching Childe from his peripheral vision. It looks like the man went through the five stages of grief in under a minute. He wants to laugh again because it’s what Childe deserves. 

Fuck him. 

It’s like Childe hasn’t even tried to remember Scara. He gave him the biggest hint ever (which he kind of regrets), but it seems Childe is that fucking dense. Does he need to spell it out for the ginger? Scara sure as hell ain’t doing that. Why can’t he just fucking remember? 

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when Kazuha takes his kisses lower. He’s kissing and sucking on Scaramouche’s neck, and Scaramouche is trying not to let out any embarrassing sounds in front of Childe. They’ve been messing around for awhile now, but it’s never anything serious. They’ve been friends for so long and really only trust each other, so hooking up every once in a while made sense. 

He makes eye contact with Childe just as Kazuha bites down on a particular spot. Scara groans and bites his lip, not breaking eye contact. Maybe this will help the fucking idiot remember. 

Childe is seething. Why is he letting the silver haired man touch him? His roommate is making direct eye contact with him and looking like he’s enjoying this. Well, Childe isn’t. He knows nothing about his roommate, but he does know he wants to be the one touching the shorter male. 

Childe feels his fingers twitch, and he grips onto the fabric of his sweatpants. His roommate groans again, and chuckles deeply, digging his fingers into silver hair. Childe can’t fucking take this anymore. 

“Okay! I’m gonna go to bed now. The edibles are fucking me uo, and I’m leaving before I can do anything stupid!” Childe loudly announces, standing up. He stumbles a little, not expecting it to feel different when standing. 

The other two have pulled apart, and are staring up at Childe. Kazuha licks his red lips. “Leaving the party so soon?” 

“Yes, I am. It seems like you guys need to be alone anyway.” 

Scara shrugs. “We obviously don’t mind if you watch. Right, baby?”

Kazuha nods. “Yeah, no worries there. But, if you really want to sleep, we won’t stop you. You’ll watch next time, though? Won't you?”

Childe sighs, “Goodnight.” He carefully walks back to his room and shuts the door. 

After a moment, Kazuha and Scaramouche burst out laughing. 

“Dammit! I thought that would work!” Kazuha says in between laughs. 

“I did, too. Gods, he’s such a fucking idiot. Why can’t he remember me?” Scaramouche exclaims. 

When their laughter dies down, Kazuha smiles at him albeit a little sadly, “I’m sorry, Mooshie. I tried in the only way I knew how.”

Scaramouche hates that nickname. Kazuha called him that a lot in elementary school because he didn’t want to say Scaramouche’s whole name. He told Kazuha to just say Scara, but the silver haired boy refused. He claimed Mooshie was cuter. 

“It’s fine, Kazu. You know I appreciate it. He’ll remember eventually… He has to. Wanna go to bed?”

Kazuha nods, and drapes himself over Scara. “Carry me?” 

Scara rolls his eyes and places his hands underneath Kazuha’s thighs. He carefully stands up, and Kazuha wraps his arms around his neck tighter to keep from falling. 

“You’re a big ass baby.”

“I’m your baby.”

“You fucking wish.”

“Are we really going to sleep?”

“You think I can’t fucking feel your dick?” 

The only thing to be heard was Kazuha’s fading giggles as the bedroom door shut tight that night.

________________

They’re at another party on Saturday night. One of the sports teams made it to nationals, so they’re throwing this huge party. It’s more packed than any other party Scaramouche has been to so far this semester. He can barely walk to the kitchen for a drink, so he made sure to fill his cup to the brim to avoid making multiple trips. 

Currently, he’s babysitting Kazuha in one of the bedrooms. There’s a few others in here as well, drinking and smoking. He and Kazuha sit on the carpeted floor with Kazuha’s head on his shoulder. He’s probably asleep by now, but Scara doesn’t mind. His best friend went a little crazy tonight, doing blinkers back to back from his pen. 

“Hey, you two,” Someone calls out. Scaramouche looks up from his phone. The girl who called to them is blonde and wearing the most revealing outfit Scaramouche has ever seen. He doesn’t care what other people wear, but damn. 

“What?” Scara says. He’s already annoyed. He’s too drunk for whatever bullshit they’re gonna tell him. 

“Come play seven minutes with us. We need more people.” She says with a sweet smile.

Scara groans inwardly. He absolutely hates that game. “Fuck no. Pick a better game.”

The blonde girl scoffs. “Oh come on! We’re all drunk and bored; loosen up! Wake your friend up! I like him, he’s chill as fuck.” 

Kazuha must’ve made a new friend earlier when Scaramouche went to the bathroom. He’s always fucking doing that. 

Scaramouche rolls his eyes, and gently shakes Kazuha awake. “Hey, dumbass. Wake the fuck up,” 

Kazuha makes a noise and looks up at him with half lidded eyes. “What?”

Scara nods his head over at the group, “They wanna play that stupid fucking game. The blonde chick knows you.”

Kazuha looks over at them, and smiles sleepily upon seeing the blonde girl. “Hey, Lumine. What game are you playing?”

The girl— Lumine responds, “Seven minutes! You should join us!”

Kazuha nods and turns to look at his best friend. And, really, Scaramouche should’ve known what type of look the idiot was going to use to convince him. Kazuha gives him a big pout, his eyes big and sparkling. Scaramouche just sighs, and Kazuha hugs him. 

They move over to the circle and briefly get acquainted with the others. Before they start, one of the girls— Yoimiya— exclaims, “Wait! My friend is coming!”

“Who?” One of the guys— Kaeya— asks. 

Yoimiya smiles brightly, “You’ll see!”

As if on cue, the bedroom door opens. Upon seeing who it is, Scaramouche wants to kill himself. 

“Hey, comrades!” Childe waves at the group and finds a spot next to Yoimiya. Everyone greets him like they know him. And, they probably do. Scaramouche remembers how much of a damn social butterfly he is. He wouldn’t be surprised if the entire campus knew of him. 

Him and Kazuha are the only ones who don’t say hi. Childe sends a brief look their way with a short nod. They get the game started. 

About twenty minutes in, Scaramouche is still sitting in the same spot. The seven minutes are going by fast with each couple that goes into the closet. He’s only gone in twice so far (he refuses to spin the bottle), and didn’t really do much. His partner was respectful of that and just mainly striked up a conversation about classes and such. Scaramouche didn’t mind, he’s probably going to forget all of these people by tomorrow anyway. 

“Alright! Childe, your turn!” Kaveh, another group member, exclaims. He and Childe have gone in the most, the bottle always landing on them for some reason. 

“Okay, who’s the lucky winner?” Childe says smugly as he spins the bottle. 

They all watch in anticipation (even Kazuha’s dumbass), but Scaramouche couldn’t care less. It hardly lands on him, so he’s not worried. He picks at his nails, not really noticing how quiet the others got. Even Kazuha stopped bouncing in excitement. 

“Hey, dude?” Kaeya taps his shoulder. 

Scaramouche looks up from his nails, making a mental note to clip them soon. “What?”

Kaeya points down at the floor, and Scara follows his finger. Oh. That’s the bottle. Pointed at him. The bottle that Childe spun. 

Oh. 

“Yeah, pass.” Scara says nonchalantly. There’s no way he’s going in there with Childe. Something stupid might end up happening. 

Everyone groans at that. 

“Dude, come on! It’s just seven minutes! Don’t be a bitch!” Lumine shouts. 

“Fuck you, I’m not a bitch. I just don’t want to go with that .” Scara says with a glare, pointing at Childe. “I’d rather take a swan dive into a boiling vat of acid.”

Everyone laughs at that, but Scaramouche is so fucking serious. Childe chuckles nervously, “It’s all good, guys. Don’t force him.” 

“No, he has to go! It’s the rules of the game!” Yae Miko says with excitement and a glint of mischief in her eyes. 

“Do it, do it, do it!” Lumine starts chanting, and the others join her. 

Scaramouche rolls his eyes. This is so fucking stupid. This is why he doesn’t play these stupid fucking games. He feels Kazuha gently squeeze his hand, and looks at him. 

Kazuha has a small smile on his face, “Just get it over with, yeah? Maybe it won’t be so bad.” 

He hates that he always listens to his best friend. Scaramouche subtly squeezes his hand back, and stands up. The group cheers at that. 

“Come on, freckle freak. Let’s get this over with.”

Scaramouche makes his way into the closet on the other side of the room. It’s a small walk in closet, and Scara is grateful they won’t have to be pressed against each other. Childe follows him, and Kaeya locks them in there. 

“Time starts now!” He says through the door. 

Scara hates everything. What is his fucking life right now? His arms are folded over his chest, and he’s staring at the wall. He wishes time would move faster. 

Childe feels awkward as he looks around at anything but his roommate. He’s scared that the shorter man will yell at him for just a glance. 

After what seems like forever (in reality was only a minute) Childe speaks, “So, uh—“

“Shut up.”

“We gotta do something, man!”

“We don’t actually. I quite like the silence.”

Childe groans into his hands. “Look, while I have you here, what did you mean that one time? When you said that we know each other.”

Scaramouche doesn’t spare him a glance, otherwise the taller man will know he’s hurt by that. “Nothing. I was drunk.”

“No, no you don’t get to avoid this. Tell me what you meant. It confuses the hell out of me.” 

“Then, you’re just going to have to stay confused or figure it the fuck out.”

Childe is growing frustrated. He finds that he’s always feeling this way when talking to his roommate. His stubbornness makes Childe want to punch a wall. Or him. He’s such an asshole, too. If they do know each other, how the hell did Childe put up with this? He doesn’t usually surround himself with assholes, it just brings his mood down. How do they know each other?

“How about you just fucking tell me? Obviously I won’t ever figure it out! This seems like something important to you, and I don’t want to—“

“Shut the fuck up. This isn’t important to me; you’re not important to me. If you can’t fucking remember then what the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Maybe help me? Ever thought about that!”

“No, I won’t fucking help you! I tried! I fucking tried and you won’t! I must’ve not been that important to you if you can’t remember all the shit we’ve had! I’m done, Childe. I’m fucking done.”

Scaramouche can’t do this anymore. He’s been so torn between wanting to be forgotten and wanting to be remembered. But he didn’t think it’d hurt this bad. Why is he so torn up about this? They broke up three years ago, Scara should be over it by now. So, why isn’t he?

Childe looks exasperated by the whole thing. He’s really trying to think of something, trying to find out how he knows. It’s hard when most people he’s met in the past have blurry faces in his mind. He wants to know what his roommate is talking about. It looks like a big deal to him even if he says it isn’t. 

“I thought this wasn’t important to you? It clearly is. Can you at least tell me what your name is? Maybe that could help! It’s been nearly three months!”

Scaramouche scoffs again, and rolls his eyes. “This is fucking stupid. I didn’t change that much. How the fuck could you not remember me? I’ve spent the last two months wondering if I actually want you to remember me and what we had. But it seems like you haven’t been fucking trying at all. So, no, I will not tell you my name. Fuck you, Childe!”

Just as he finishes, the door flies open revealing Kaeya. His smirk is quickly wiped off of his face because he thought he’d catch them in the act. Before he can say anything, Scaramouche shoves past him out of the closet. 

He goes straight to Kazuha and pulls him off the floor. “I want to go home. Now.”

Kazuha is confused, but nods. His best friend looks pissed off and stressed out. He isn’t that high to disregard his best friend’s feelings. 

“Hey, wait! Don’t go!” Childe yells from behind. 

Kazuha glares at him, and Childe is taken aback. He’s never seen the guy get mad before, so this is shocking. He can only stand there as they leave the room. 

Yoimiya stands next to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay? Was that your roommate?”

Childe nods, “Yeah… I can’t help but feel like this is all my fault.”

“No, it’s not, Childe. You keep trying to talk to him, but he isn’t listening. I’m sure he’ll come around; no one can hold a grudge that long.”

“Yeah…” 

Childe suspects that his roommate could hold a grudge for years if need be. But he knew Yoimiya was just trying to make him feel better. He still feels like shit though. 

______________

“I hate him. I hate him so fucking much. He doesn’t remember my name, let alone breaking my fucking heart. I wish he never came into my life. He ruined it! He fucking ruined it!” 

Scaramouche had been ripping up all of their old photos ever since he got back to his dorm. He didn’t even know why he still had these stupid pictures. Childe means nothing to him now. He evidently means nothing to the ginger as well. 

How could he forget how much he’s changed Scaramouche’s life? He made Scara so happy, but it seemed like a flip switched inside him. Childe hurt him, broke his heart, and ruined his life. 

He did all of that, and can’t remember? It’s bullshit. 

“Um, Scara, are you sure you’re not going to regret this?” Kazuha asks carefully. He tried to stop Scaramouche from ripping them up, but he nearly lashed out. Kazuha shut his mouth and just watched. 

“Fuck him! He wants to act like this? Two can play that game, motherfucker!” Scara isn’t really answering Kazuha. He tears up another picture of him and Childe at an amusement park. It was their second date. 

“Okay, I can’t watch you do this.” Kazuha says, kneeling next to him on the floor. He grabs Scaramouche’s wrists tightly, causing the other to look at him. “Scaramouche. You need to stop. This isn’t going to help you, and you know it.”

Scara glares at him, “Fuck you! I know what I’m doing!”

“Do you? Because it just looks like you’re going through another break up.”

“I threw those fucking emotions out long ago. I hate him, Kazuha.” 

“I know… How about we take a break, yeah? Come on,” Kazuha gently grabs onto his hand, and stands up with him. He leads them to the bed, and they lie down. He doesn’t like seeing Scaramouche like this. He saw this years ago, and didn’t like it then, either. 

Scara lays his head on Kazuha’s chest, and squeezes his eyes shut. He won’t cry— he can’t. Crying is for the weak. Scaramouche isn’t weak. 

Then, Kazuha starts playing with his hair and humming softly. Dammit!

“Shh, it’s okay. Let it out,” Kazuha whispers. 

He didn’t realize he had been sniffling. His eyes feel wet, but he doesn’t wipe it away. Scaramouche finally lets himself feel. He lets out all of the bottled up emotions he’s been harboring for years. A mix of sadness, anger, heartbreak, betrayal, you name it. Scaramouche feels it all because of one person. 

One person who he thought he would spend the rest of his life with. One person who knew Scara better than he knew himself. One person who he could be vulnerable with. One person whom he loved, and they loved him back. 

One person who he still loves. After all these years, he never really got over Childe. He just used distractions to keep himself from thinking about Childe. He changed because he didn’t want to be the person Childe loved anymore. He didn’t want Scara the way he was, maybe a new person would get his attention again. But that didn’t work. 

Scaramouche’s feelings never changed. They remained dormant in his heart until he saw Childe again all those weeks ago. Then, he went and said he didn’t know Scaramouche. That hurt more than it should have. He can’t believe he fooled himself into thinking he stopped loving Childe. How fucking ridiculous. 

“I hate him, Kazu… I hate him so much,” Scaramouche whispers in between quiet sniffles. 

“I know, hun… I know.”

____________________

It’s finally winter break. Final exams are over, and Scaramouche is happy to be home with his aunt. He’ll never admit it, but he missed her. After the stupid seven minute game, Scara avoided Childe like the plague. He avoided him before, but it was worse. He stayed in Kazuha’s dorm, and he didn’t say it, but he was thankful Kazuha’s roommates understood. Of course he helped with cleaning and such; he isn’t that much of an asshole. 

Now, he has two weeks to himself. He’s going to forget about Childe and actually get over him this time. He can’t take another heartbreak. He even plans on moving to a single dorm. It’s going to cost an arm and a leg, but his aunt said she will help out. He filled out the paperwork before break, and the administration office said it’ll be ready when he comes back. 

Currently, he’s in his room, finding anything from the past to throw out. Kazuha will be over later tonight. Scaramouche sighs as he throws away pictures and small trinkets into a trash bag. He hasn’t cried since that night, and he thinks it’s progress. Crying isn’t going to help anybody. 

He tries not to stare at anything too long in fear he might convince himself to keep it. There’s a small knock on his door a moment later. 

“Come in.” 

The door opens to reveal his aunt Nahida. Her graying hair is in a ponytail, and she’s wearing her usual green and white sundress despite it being freezing cold. Her bright green eyes are gentle as she smiles at him. 

“Dinner is almost ready. Is Kazuha coming over?” She asks. 

Scara picks up a plastic ring that Childe gave him from an arcade game. It’s a faded blue color, nearly the same as Childe’s eyes. Scaramouche remembers Childe had put it on his ring finger, and kissed it. Scara had smiled so widely at the indication, but it’s a bittersweet memory now. He throws it into the bag. 

“Yeah, later. I’ll be down soon.” 

Nahida knows what happened in general, but not the minute details. She’s fine not knowing, though. Her nephew is an adult and doesn’t have to tell her everything. Unless he wants to, of course. Then, she’ll listen. 

She nods, “Okay. Is all of that trash?”

“Absolute garbage. If you smell something burning later on don’t worry about it.”

Nahida chuckles quietly, “Alright. If you want to talk, you know where to find me.”

“Yep.”

Nahida walks over to him, and plants a kiss on his head. She pats his head and leaves the room. He finds it amusing when she does that because she’s so short. If Scaramouche weren’t on the floor, he would have had to bend down for her to do that. 

Dinner was uneventful. Nahida asked about school and exams. Then transitioned into talking about what she’s been up to while he was away. Her older sister Rukkhadevata came to visit for a while, and slept in the guest room. She said they had tons of fun, but Scaramouche didn’t want to know the details. He had no interest in whatever two women in their late forties got up to. 

Now, he’s in the backyard, starting a fire in their fire pit. Nahida is watching tv and Kazuha should be here any minute now. 

As if on cue, the door to the backyard opens, and Kazuha comes out. He’s wearing a sweater with a jacket over it, and sweatpants. 

“It’s f—“

“Fucking.”

“—Freezing out here. Do you have to do this now? You couldn’t wait until the morning where the sun warms us a little?” Kazuha complains, coming to stand next to him. He takes his hands out of his pockets to place them over the fire. 

Scaramouche shakes his head, “If I don’t do this now, I’ll never do it. I’ll make you hot cocoa when I’m done.”

“With extra—“

“Extra marshmallows, yeah I know. I’ve been making it for you for years now.”

Kazuha smiles. “Yeah, you have. This is a stupid question, but how are you feeling?”

Scaramouche begins to dump everything out and into the fire. “Do you want the honest truth, or some bullshit?” 

“I think you know the answer.”

Scara stares at the burning pictures and trinkets he collected over the two years of their relationship. They started dating in their second year of high school, and broke up senior year. Childe left after graduation and here he is now. Scaramouche remembers trying to get a hold of him, but the ginger fuck never answered his calls or texts. 

That feels like so long ago. 

Scara felt stupid for believing what they had was real. He feels stupid now for still being in love with him. Never again. 

“I feel like a dumbass. I want nothing more than to burn the world down and watch it with a smile. I can’t believe I loved him— still love him. I just… feel like such a fucking idiot, Kazu. He broke my heart so easily, like he was squashing a grape. He left without looking back, and never returned my calls. Then, he suddenly shows up and claims to not remember me. Not even my fucking name. How fucked up is that? I wonder what else the world has in fucking store for me.”

Kazuha puts an arm around his shoulders and leans his head against Scaramouche’s. “I know you don’t like the sappy sh—stuff, so I won’t say much,”

“Just say shit.”

“No. Look, you’ll get over him, you know that. It’s gonna take time, so don’t be mad if you still love him tomorrow, or the day after. He was your first… everything. That’s hard to get rid of. And you know I always have your back, no matter what. I swear on my life.”

Scara snorts at that, “At the rate you’re smoking I fear you don’t have much life left to swear on.”

“Don’t be mean.” Kazuha flicks his forehead. 

“Yeah, yeah. I heard you. Hey, I’ve never made you feel used right? Like, when we fool around and shit.”

“Not at all. It was mutual, and we were both lonely. Also, we’re best friends so you’re the only one I trust.” 

“Mm… Yeah, me too.”

“Can I have my hot cocoa now? I’m freezing my booty off.”

“Please, say ass. I’m begging at this point.”

“Never. Cursing is for mean people, and I’m not mean.”

“Cursing is for people who want to fucking spice up their speech.” 

“No, you sound crazy now. I’ll never say a curse word. You can’t make me.” 

“Is that a challenge?”

“Absolutely not. Don’t even think about it!”

They get inside the warm house, and straight into the kitchen since that’s where the backyard is located. They put their jackets onto the chairs surrounding the dining table. Kazuha hops up onto the counter by the sink as Scaramouche makes hot cocoa for the both of them. As he’s waiting for the milk to heat up, he tosses some mini marshmallows at Kazuha to see how many he can catch in his mouth. 

“You fucking suck at this!” Scaramouche says with a laugh. 

He throws another, and Kazuha reaches for it, but it bounces off his nose once again. He pouts, “You’re throwing them wrong!”

“How is that possible? I’m just tossing them. Come on, you’re wasting them. Also, I hope you know the ones on the floor are going in your cup.”

“I’m telling auntie!”

“Fucking snitch!” Scaramouche exclaims and throws five marshmallows at him. 

“Oh, boys!” A small voice calls out. They turn to see Nahida standing at the entrance to the kitchen. “We have a visitor!”

“Do we need to talk to them?” Scaramouche immediately asks. He really doesn’t like meeting new people or talking to strangers unless he absolutely has to. 

Nahida nods. “Yeah! It’s important, okay? You know I would never make you do anything if I knew it would hurt you, right? I would never set you up for failure, sweetie. Believe me when I say you absolutely should talk to our guest.”

He’s skeptical now. Very suspicious. Who the fuck is in his house? He looks at Kazuha, and he has a look on his face. 

Oh no. 

Oh no, no, no. 

“Auntie, tell me you fucking didn’t.”

“I didn’t do anything. He just showed up!” She replies. He hates that she knows who he’s talking about. “We were talking and I understand the situation now.”

Scaramouche can’t fucking believe Childe is in his house right now. What the actual fuck. He thought he was fine here, that he’d be able to get over the ginger. He feels like his safe space has been invaded, but he can’t blame his aunt. He wants to, but knows he can’t. She didn’t know all of the details, so she believes she’s helping. 

She really isn’t. 

“It doesn’t matter if you know, or not. I’ve made up my mind. Tell him to leave or I’ll end his bloodline.”

“I really think you guys should talk, Scara. I told you that I would never hurt you or put you in a situation to get hurt. He has something to tell you. It’ll answer your question about why he didn’t remember you.”

Scaramouche stares at her. Will he really tell him? Does he even care about that anymore? Scara kind of does. Okay, he really does want to know. Fuck Kazuha for saying he won’t get over him in one night. 

He hates when Kazuha is right. 

“I think you should talk to him, Mooshie. I can stay with you if you want.” Kazuha says, gently rubbing at Scara’s nape. For some reason doing this relaxes him. 

The two most important people in his life are telling him to talk to the person he vowed to stay away from. The person he shouldn’t love anymore, and is actively trying to get over. Scaramouche trusts Nahida and Kazuha with his life, but should he trust them on this? 

“I know we said we would support you no matter what,” Nahida speaks up, pulling Scara out of his thoughts, “But, that doesn’t mean you can’t have your questions answered. Maybe if you listen to him, you’ll find some closure.”

“I don’t fucking want closure; I don’t need it.” Scara quickly responds. Fuck closure, he can live without it. 

Can he live without knowing why Childe didn’t remember him? He was about to cut him out completely, so really how long would he have lasted? But, as he keeps saying, Scaramouche isn’t a complete asshole. 

“… Fine, I’ll hear him out. I can’t guarantee he’ll change my mind or some bullshit you see in movies.”

Nahida and Kazuha both smile widely at him. “We’re not expecting you to. Just listen to him.” Kazuha says. 

“He’s waiting.” Nahida says. 

Scaramouche looks at both of them and sighs. He trusts these two more than anything, and knows they’ll help him no matter what happens out there. He takes another deep breath and goes out into the living room. 

There he is. 

His ginger hair is as shaggy as ever, and he’s always wearing some type of gray or maroon clothing. He only has a light jacket on, so Scaramouche assumes his bigger coat is hanging on the rack. No one in their right mind would go outside without a big coat. It’s cold as fuck.

Scaramouche walks up to the side of the couch, startling Childe, “Oh! Ah, sorry, you scared me. Haha!”

Oh great, he’s just as nervous as Scaramouche. Not that Scaramouche will ever admit it. 

“We can talk in my room.” Scara just says, already walking upstairs. Childe scrambles from the couch, not expecting this. He quickly follows him up the stairs. 

Once in the room, Scaramouche shuts the door, then sits on his bed. He kicks the box that had all of their old stuff in it under his bed. Childe stands awkwardly by the door, not sure what to do with himself. 

A distant memory pops up of something like this happening. Scaramouche quickly gets rid of it. 

“Sit down, moron,” He say, gesturing to the desk chair. 

“Ah, right, sorry.” Childe mumbles and sits in the chair. 

They stare at each other for approximately 0.02 seconds until Scaramouche makes an annoyed expression. “Are you gonna fucking talk or what? Because if not, you can get the fuck out and never come back.”

Childe glares back. “Give me a damn minute, will you?”

“No, hurry up. You’re wasting my fucking time.”

“Okay, calm the fuck down! Gods, how the fuck did we ever date? You’re so annoying.”

And that successfully shut Scaramouche up. Childe had never called him annoying, not once. At least, not back then. He always said he could listen to Scaramouche talk for hours even if it’s about nothing. Does Childe remember that?

Scara scoffs in amusement. “Funny, you never said I was annoying. What happened to listening to me talk for hours?”

“That’s— I don’t remember that.”

“Then what do you fucking remember?”

Childe sighs, “I remember the break up. I remember small moments here and there. I remember that your smile was always so… bright. But, I can’t actually picture it. I knew I had an ex, but I could never see his face. It was always blurry in my mind, whether it was a dream or just thinking about it. Your laugh is different, though. Your… personality is different. What happened to you?”

The fucking audacity. 

Scaramouche looks at him like he’s crazy because he fucking is. “The fuck do you mean what happened to me? What the fuck happened to you?! You break my fucking heart, then leave after graduation?! You didn’t return my calls or texts— it’s like you fell off the face of the damn earth! And you come back to say you don’t know me? What in the ever-loving fuck! Did those two years mean nothing to you? Did you ever mean it when you said you loved me?!” 

Scaramouche is breathing heavily by now. He’s holding back tears because he refuses to let Childe see him so vulnerable. It feels good to finally get this off of his chest, though. All of his frustrations and emotions are laid out on the table; he’s showing Childe his cards, and can only hope the taller man will do the same. 

Childe sat there patiently, listening to every word. He knows he hurt Scaramouche, he just didn’t think it was to this extent. He felt guilty, but they had to; he had to leave Scaramouche. 

“Scara, listen—“

“Oh, now you know my name. How fucking great!”

“Hey, let me talk now. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for not remembering, but I have a reason, honestly. I’m not telling you so that you’d feel sorry or pity me. I’m just letting you know what happened because that’s what you want, right? The reason I didn’t remember you was because… I got into an accident. When I left after graduation, I was going back home to Snezhnaya. When I got there, the cab driver crashed the car— faulty tires or something. I ended up in the hospital and they told me the crash rattled my brain a bit. I couldn’t remember anything from the last few years at the time. Only the recent events, like our break up. I didn’t return your calls because my phone got fucked up, so I had to get a new one. Anyway, that’s what happened. I didn’t forget you on purpose.”

That’s… That's gotta be bullshit. It sounds like it came from some stupid romance movie. There’s no way something that damn cliché happened to him. 

Can it?

Of course not! It sounds stupid!

“That sounds stupid! That shit doesn’t happen in real life! No one can be that bad of a driver!” Scaramouche exclaims. He can’t believe it— he doesn’t want to. 

Childe rolls his eyes, “Believe it or not that’s what happened. My sister literally has a picture on her Instagram of me in the hospital.”

“Don’t care. You really had fucking amnesia? That feels so fucking anticlimactic. I hope you’re not expecting an apology for being an asshole.”

Childe snorts. “Absolutely not. You didn’t know.”

“Wait, so how did you remember? What triggered it?” 

“Actually, your aunt did. My mom sent me over here to visit a friend of hers, who is obviously your aunt. I guess I forgot they were close because we were. Anyway, she greeted me with excitement and honestly… All it took was to hear your name once. The memories came flooding back. I know it sounds hella cliche but the doctor said memories just work that way. They can be triggered by a simple sound, smell, or name, in my case.”

Scaramouche can’t believe this. Has his life turned into some shitty teen movie? All of this sounds fucking stupid. 

But, gods, if he isn’t happy. 

He’s so fucking happy, elated even, that Childe finally remembers him. He remembers all the good times, the bad, and the ugly. It’s funny to think that Scaramouche was so adamant about not wanting Childe to remember. He changed for a reason: he didn’t want to be recognized as someone he used to be. Didn’t want to be seen as the person who got his heart broken into a million pieces. He reinvented himself for the better. He never imagined he’d run into Childe again. It reminded him of who he used to be: someone who was betrayed and too emotional. 

Now, his new self stands here in front of Childe. Childe who only has memories of who Scara was , not who he is now. He isn’t sure if he likes that or not. 

“Okay, so now what? You’ve answered my questions and I have nothing to tell you.” 

Childe gets up and sits next to him on the bed. Scaramouche doesn’t move away or push him off, so that’s a good sign. He probably doesn’t hate Childe that much anymore. 

“Scara… I need you to know that I meant it back then. I loved you, truly.”

“But you left me. In the worst way possible, might I add. You… hurt me.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. And, if you’re willing, I’d like to try again. I’ve been thinking about you nonstop for the past few months. I didn’t understand why I felt that way when I barely knew you. Especially when you were with Kazuha. It made me so… angry to see you guys together. It was like he was touching what was mine. Do you know how many times I had to hold myself back from pushing him away from you? Gods, it was annoying!”

Scaramouche couldn’t help but let out a small giggle. Childe had scooted closer to him the more he talked, and didn’t notice but Scaramouche did. He has always noticed everything Childe did. 

“I don’t know, Childe,” Scara sing-songs, feeling like they’re 16 years old all over again. “I had planned on getting over you completely. I already burned all of our pictures,”

“You WHAT?”

Scaramouche nods, but finds it kind of funny, “Yeah. I didn’t want to think about the past. Especially my past self. I’m a new Scaramouche. One that you can get to know, and hopefully make new memories with.”

Scara hates how easily Childe can tear down his walls. He didn’t even tear them down— no, Childe is a crazy motherfucker so he climbed over them. He squeezed his way into the small space Scaramouche boxed himself in, and made himself comfortable. And Scaramouche just let him. 

He doesn’t regret it, though. Not one bit.

“That sounds good to me,” Childe smirks. “As long as your little thing with Kazuha stops. Not sure how much longer I can hold back.”

Scaramouche feels himself grinning, “Well, it’s not like me and you are official, soooo,”

Childe’s eyebrow twitches, and Scaramouche knows he’s got him. “ Yet. We aren’t official yet. I plan on making you mine again, just you wait.”

Childe moves closer, and gently pushes Scaramouche back onto the bed, leaning over him. 

Scaramouche stares up at him, “I hate how easily you do this,” He whispers, carefully bringing up his hand to caress Childe’s jawline. “You always find a way to get what you want, and I just give it to you, no questions asked. I hate how easily I give in to you. I was so determined to finally forget about you, and move on. Yet, here you are,”

“Here I am,” Childe says back just as quiet. He smiles, and leans into Scaramouche’s palm. “I don’t plan on leaving; not again. I swear on my life.”

“Bitch, you’re suicidal swear on something else.” Scara playfully glares at him. 

Childe laughs at that, “Relax! I’m not into all of that anymore! I’m a changed man.”

He means all of the fights he used to get into back then. He fought someone who had a problem with him, or he fought someone just for fun. He picked on the bigger guys and they would beat his ass, but that never stopped Childe. He only stopped when they threatened to expel him. 

“Yeah, sure you are. You know how much I hate you, right?”

“Of course, baby. I love you, too.” 

Scaramouche makes a disgusted sound. “Don’t call me that. Also, you can’t say you love me. You haven’t even taken me on a date yet.”

“I don’t need to take you on a date to know I love you, but fine. I’m really happy you agreed to this. I was pretty sure you were going to say no.”

“I was… I wanted to. But like I said, I hate how easily I give in when it comes to you. It will always be you, Childe.”

“It’s going to always be you as well, Scaramouche. Always,”

“And forever.”

They share a sweet kiss, and this time no old memories invade Scara’s brain. It feels like the first kiss of many. It’s exhilarating and gives Scara a rush. He’s excited for what’s to come as he prays to whatever god is listening that he won’t get his heartbroken again, that he’s making the right choice. 

They pull away, and Scaramouche smiles softly, “Now get off of me. I have to break up with my temporary boyfriend.” 

“Ouch. Does he know you guys are temporary?”

“Now he does because him and auntie have been listening this whole time.”

Suddenly, there’s a loud thump outside the door and then the sound of two pairs of feet running down the stairs. Childe chuckles, “How did you know?”

Scaramouche rolls his eyes, “They’re both nosy as hell. But, I know they mean well. Anyway, seriously get off of me. You’re fucking heavy, fat ass. What have you been eating?” He pushes at Childe’s chest, and the ginger rolls off of him onto the other side of the bed. 

“Why are you so mean? I don’t think I want to get to know the new Scaramouche.”

“Too bad, you kissed me so that sealed the deal,” He gets off the bed, and raises his arms up to stretch. Suddenly, Childe wraps himself around Scaramouch from behind, resting his head in the crook of his neck. 

“Get off of me,” Scara says with no real bite to it. 

“Never.”

“You’re annoying.”

“So are you.”

They both laugh quietly and just stand there, basking in each other’s warmth they haven’t felt in years. It feels right, it feels natural. Like they were always meant to be. 

“Don’t say shit, okay? I… love you.”

Childe smiles widely, and softly kisses his neck, “I love you, too.”