Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

While Night Raven College’s opening ceremony is not nearly as crowded as a congested land-city, the warmth of the surrounding students is enough to set Jade on edge. Still, he ignores it. They—meaning Azul, Floyd, and himself—must use this opportunity to scope out their fellow first years.

No one looks notable at first glance. Then again, few people are. Jade keeps an open mind and pays particular attention to his new dormmates; if Azul is to be Octavinelle’s next house warden, and Jade his vice warden, they must understand their peers. It wouldn’t do to use their new pawns inefficiently.

Floyd, on the other hand, grows more impatient by the second. To Jade’s right his brother shifts his weight from leg to leg, robes rustling with his every movement. He taps out a beat with his heels. He grumbles under his breath.

Eventually, he mutters, “This sucks.” Jade peels his eyes away from a pair of Scarabia students. Floyd is glaring at the ceiling like he’s wishing for it to cave in. “They’re gonna be at this for hours.”

“It shouldn't take too much longer,” Jade reassures. Admittedly, while he and Azul are using the opportunity to get a lay of their new hunting grounds, Floyd’s disposition is ill-suited for a slow event like this. The only surprise is in how long he took to complain.

Jade’s reassurance only serves to deepen Floyd’s scowl. Eyes darting around the room, he clearly debates the costs of starting a fight during orientation, right where the Headmaster and teachers can see, before he slumps further. He shoulders past the crowd without a word to either Jade or Azul.

To Azul, Jade whispers, “Floyd is leaving. Should we stop him?”

Azul sighs. “I doubt he ever had plans of staying. Leave him be. We’ll be fine so long as he doesn’t cause any trouble.”

There’s a pause as they consider the words “Floyd” and “cause trouble.”

“...Never mind, that idiot is bound to get in trouble,” Azul mutters. “If something happens, we’re not doing anything to help him. He’ll have brought it on himself.”

“Of course,” Jade agrees. This was a possibility they both acknowledged before they were accepted into Night Raven. Floyd could behave well enough in public settings; he knew better than to get arrested. But in a magic academy, with other powerful students willing and able to fight him? It’d be easier to force-feed him mushrooms.

A sudden cackle quickly proves him right. Everyone, staff and students, turn to the source of the noise. The Mirror finishes its sorting before the hall falls silent. All eyes are on Floyd and another student.

Floyd is sneering down at his new playmate, who is both too short and too far away for Jade to identify. That, and his back is to Jade.

His brother reaches out to the student with both hands, fingers outstretched, light glinting off his teeth. They land on the student’s head, slipping underneath his hood. Floyd is ruffling his hair the same way one would a fluffy animal.

“You’re just a little Goldfishie,” Floyd coos. “Are you sure you’re old enough to be here? Why’d you chase after me, huh? Aw, is the little angry Goldfishie gonna nibble on my fingers?”

“Goldfishie” sways under the force of Floyd’s hair-ruffling, his hood slipping off and revealing the vibrant, red hair that must be the source of his new namesake. It’s a rather uncommon color—one that reminds Jade of the Princess of long ago, the one who made the deal with the Sea Witch. Perhaps the color captivated Floyd; it’s unusual for him to not brush off a stranger.

Floyd’s new fascination doesn’t react to the manhandling right away. Although, it looks as if his ears are turning as red as his hair. Jade would’ve expected the student to retaliate as soon as Floyd laid hands on him.

If he’s recalling this student correctly, he had been sorted into Heartslabyul earlier tonight. His stiff posture and matter-of-fact pride had pinged Jade’s interest, marking him down as someone to keep an eye on. Pride, after all, is easy to manipulate.

“HOW DARE YOU!”

Magic sparks against Jade’s skin as the student lashes out with a wave of pure magic. Floyd goes flying—he’s in the air for a solid second—before he crashes against stone, the impact winding him with an audible guh. He wheezes as the student fixes his hair and rights his hood.

“I cannot tolerate rule-breakers like you,” the student seethes. “Leaving during Orientation, calling me by a strange nickname, and laying your hands on me—have you no respect?”

Floyd is too winded to respond properly. But, by the way his eyes light up, Jade knows to watch his hands as he pulls out his wand.

Unfortunately for him, the student notices the movement, too. With a flick of the wrist he casts a heart-shaped collar around Floyd’s neck. Floyd tries to retaliate—nothing happens. He stares at his wand with clear confusion until the student sees fit to explain his spell.

“Off With Your Head,” the student says, holding his chin high, “is my Signature Spell. You’ll be unable to use your magic for as long as my collar is around your neck. Since you’re incapable of behaving, I’ll leave it on until the end of Orientation.”

Now Jade remembers the student’s name: Riddle Rosehearts. Jade sorts him higher on his list of notable peers. Anyone can be prideful, but it’s rare for an incoming first year to have a fully manifested Signature Spell. And, with the way he sent Floyd flying, he’s strong enough to challenge his house warden. He may even win.

He’ll be an interesting watch, Jade thinks.

Riddle Rosehearts, after taking a moment to stand over Floyd’s still-sprawled form, turns on his heel and returns to his fellow Heartslabyul students. When Floyd doesn’t move from his spot on the floor, Jade heads over to help him up—and to get a better look at his brother’s defeat.

He’s rewarded with a sight he never thought he’d see: Floyd blushing. Face flushed down to his neck, starry-eyed and breathless, staring after Riddle Rosehearts’ swishing robes. Blushing like a love-struck fool.

By the time Jade collects himself, Floyd’s on his feet and walking back to Azul. It’s there he stays for the rest of Orientation, occupying himself by tracing the edges of the collar around his neck. His gaze never strays far from Riddle Rosehearts.

Riddle doesn’t seem to notice. Though, true to his word, the collar vanishes as soon as everyone is dismissed. Jade half-expects Floyd to launch into another fight as soon as the spell fades.

But Floyd follows Octavinelle’s head warden obediently, his hand still rubbing at his neck.

Chapter Text

“Uhg, gross. Why’s that guy getting all buddy-buddy with Goldfishie? I thought nobody liked him.”

Across the library and partially hidden by a few rows of shelves, Riddle and an unfamiliar student are sitting side-by-side, textbooks and notebooks spread out before them. Riddle points to something on the page, then at his own notebook. The unfamiliar student nods his head and leans into Riddle’s personal space. Riddle doesn’t seem to notice.

Returning to his search, Jade pulls out another book from its shelf and flips through it. “Riddle does have a responsibility to his dormmates,” he says. “His goal as house warden is for everyone in Heartslabyul to pass—or so I’ve heard. That would involve some tutoring here and there.”

“The guy’s not studying,” Floyd says, the scowl evident in his voice. “He’s just cozying up to Goldfishie.”

“Then maybe he’s attempting to get in Riddle’s good graces?”

“What, by getting into his pants?”

“Perhaps.”

Floyd mocks a gag. “Like Goldfishie could ever take the stick far enough outta his ass to shove anything else in there. The guy’s just wasting his time.”

And you would know? Jade thinks. Though his brother hasn’t outright confessed to Riddle Rosehearts (not that he would, seeing as he’s oblivious to his own infatuation), he has been pestering Riddle more days than not. Chasing him, teasing him, butting into his conversations—anything is fair game to Floyd.

It’s been a while since Floyd has so thoroughly enjoyed himself. The only shame is that Riddle doesn’t share that sentiment. Nearly all of their interactions result in a fuming Riddle and a collared Floyd.

Well, up until Floyd refined his Signature Spell after giving up on it for so many years. Jade remembers the way he used to complain about it, saying there was no use in a defensive spell like Bind the Heart when everyone around them was so weak. Azul had suggested he practice it regardless. Floyd being Floyd, he refused.

Encountering a Signature Spell like Off With Your Head must’ve revived his interest, because he had spent several hours after Orientation relearning Bind the Heart in their shared room. By the end of their first week, he had chased Riddle around campus and provoked him into another match. Every spell of Riddle’s had bounced right off of Floyd. Including, to Riddle’s frustration, Off With Your Head.

Riddle still won in the end. Floyd seemed happier at his loss than he would’ve been otherwise.

“You never know,” Jade says. “Riddle has often surprised us.”

When Floyd doesn’t respond, Jade glances over at him. He’s still glaring at Riddle and the unknown student like he’s planning on marching over. Smirking, Jade continues, “Isn’t it a common trope for a bad boy to be seduced into better behavior? Perhaps this student has similar plans. It may be worth a try.”

“Goldfishie’s too tiny and baby-faced to be a bad boy,” Floyd says. “And since when do you read romance?”

“He could be bad boy adjacent,” Jade amends, ignoring Floyd’s question. “That’s beside the point—bad boys aren’t the only ones romance inspires self-improvement in. An intimate relationship may be what Riddle needs to loosen his iron fist.”

“Goldfishie’s fun the way he is,” Floyd mutters. He shoves his hands into his pockets and slouches further into himself.

“Heartslabyul believes otherwise.”

“...I guess it’d be fun if he could play around a little.”

Jade, not expecting his brother to pull back from his irritation (and likely jealousy), pauses. He was hoping Floyd would rile himself up and get involved; he was never hesitant to do so before. Especially once Jade provokes him. He switches currents and says, “Of course, this is only if that student’s interest is genuine. It’s far more likely he’s going to manipulate Riddle and get revenge for the restrictive environment.”

There it is, Jade thinks with a hint of relief. Floyd’s expression turns thunderous, his body going lax as he shifts his stance, preparing for a fight. Then he slips over to the table, behind the unfortunate duo, and pulls the chair out from underneath the student, who crashes into the ground with a startled cry. The chair Floyd swivels around to sit in backwards, resting his arms and chin on the back of it, smiling sweetly at Riddle.

Riddle’s shocked for all of a second before he registers Floyd’s appearance. His face goes red.

“Floyd,” he hisses like a curse, “What are you doing?”

Floyd’s pleasant hum only enrages Riddle further. “I saw Goldfishie acting like a little teacher and I wanted to join in! C’mon, Goldfishie, why don’t you teach me something?”

“You’re not one of my students. You are not my responsibility.” By the way Riddle grips his wand, he clearly wishes he could behead Floyd and be done with him. “If you need tutoring, ask your own house warden.”

The unknown student, who is still on the floor, yelps out an agreement. “D-don’t bother our house warden, you bastard!” He opens his mouth as if to say more but freezes once Floyd looks down at him.

“Ah? Who the hell are you?” Floyd says. “Little fishies that don’t know their place should get lost. Unless you wanna get squeezed.”

Evidentially, the student does not want to be “squeezed.” He scrambles to his feet with a whimper and darts away, leaving behind his belongings in his haste to escape. Floyd watches him leave.

“Why’d you even bother with a weakling like that?” Floyd asks, once they hear the doors slam shut. “You should just play with me, Goldfishie.”

“You…” Trembling, red-faced and clenching his teeth in a tight scowl, Riddle casts Off With Your Head, the signature heart-shaped collar snapping shut around Floyd’s neck before he can react. “What is wrong with you?”

Riddle struggles to keep his volume low, his words quivering with rage. There’s a second where he glares at Floyd, knuckles white around his wand, before he shoves it in his pocket and gathers everything off the table and into their respective bags. “I can’t eat in peace, I can’t walk in peace, and I can’t even tutor one of my students without you barging in! This is the library, why are you even here? I know you don’t study. Were you following me, you—” He cuts himself off with a growl.

“I want nothing to do with you, Floyd. Leave me alone.”

Slinging both the student’s bag and his own over his shoulder, Riddle storms out of the library. Floyd’s collar doesn’t disappear.

Jade gives him a moment before walking over. “How long do you think he’ll leave the collar on this time?”

“I’ll take it off myself.” A burst of magic and the collar breaks off. Floyd stands, stretches, and stalks off. “Ah, now I’m bored. I’m gonna go take a nap.”

“Alright. Remember to be awake for your shift.”

“Fuck off.”

Hm, Jade thinks as he’s left alone in the library. He might have miscalculated.

Chapter Text

Floyd rarely meets Jade in his classroom. So when his brother waltzes into classroom 2-E and nonchalantly leans against Jade’s desk, he entertains Floyd’s small talk and waits for his motives to show themselves.

It takes less than a minute for Floyd to break away and yell, “Goldfishie!”

With one foot out of the classroom, Riddle winces. It’s likely he was hoping to escape before Floyd could notice him. Which would be impossible, Jade muses, seeing as his brother is always on the lookout for his crush and favorite toy.

Though with the dark circles under his eyes and his ashen skin, Jade pities Riddle. Today is his first day cleared from the infirmary; Overblot takes its toll on its victims. Not to mention the potential for relapses. Uncommon but possible, a person is most susceptible to a second Overblot in the forty-eight hours following their first one, with the probability dropping with each successive day.

A large stressor like Floyd is the last thing Riddle needs. The kindest thing Jade could do is redirect his brother and allow Riddle to rest without stress.

Jade takes his time packing his bag. He might as well reorganize his pen case while he’s here.

“You sure you should be up and about, Goldfishie?” Floyd teases. “You look like the wind could tip you right over, and then it’d be bye-bye Goldfishie.”

Riddle—doesn’t explode with rage. He sighs and, in a defeated voice, says, “If you have no business with me, Floyd, leave me be. I’m not in the mood to deal with you right now.”

“Aw, really? But I brought you some treats. Gimme your hand.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“Yeah, you’re a Goldfishie. Duh.”

“I’m not a—forget it. I’m leaving.”

There are a few light footsteps, followed by a gasp and a hissed, “Floyd!”

Floyd had grabbed Riddle’s wrist and tugged him back around. Jade watches as Floyd pries open Riddle’s hand and drops a handful of familiar candies into Riddle’s unwilling palm.

A handful of extremely familiar candies. In fact, Jade had bought their wrappers after Floyd begged him to yesterday, at the end of Floyd’s two-day saltwater taffy phase.

At the time, Jade had wondered why his brother suddenly decided to learn taffy-making. Or why the pieces Jade tried were too sweet for most merfolk to enjoy. He didn’t think too much of it then, seeing as Floyd had fallen into weirder holes.

“I got a bunch of these,” Floyd says, “but I don’t like ‘em. You can have all of them.”

“Don’t give me your trash!”

“It’s not trash, Goldfishie! I just don’t like them. I thought you liked sweet things?”

Staring down at the candies, Riddle makes a complicated expression. “...I like pastries and cakes, yes. But I’ve never had candy before.”

“Wait, really? Why?”

If Jade listens to the rumors, it’s likely thanks to Riddle’s mother. Riddle himself declines to elaborate. “Never mind,” he says, “It’s not important. Will you leave me be if I try one?”

“Hm, maybe.”

Apparently, that’s good enough for Riddle. He picks up a piece, struggles to unravel it with one free and one occupied hand, and pops it in his mouth. Chews a little.

His face lights up. “It’s good! Soft and chewy—is it strawberry flavored? Where did you get these?”

“I dunno, I forgot,” Floyd lies. Jade recalls the batches and batches of stretchy taffy. The sticky countertops. The strewn wrappers. The complaints from fellow students. The first years took so long to clean the kitchens, Floyd got fed up and finished the job with magic. “But I got a whole bunch. You want the rest?”

“I, well. I would hate for them to go to waste…”

“Okay, great. I’m gonna give you all of them,” Floyd says. He proceeds to open his bag, pull out an overflowing handful of wrapped taffies, and pour them into Riddle’s bag. Then he pours in another handful. Riddle, shocked at the sheer number of candies, attempts to back away before Floyd can give him any more. He fails.

Floyd pours in one last handful of candies, plus a few strays that he digs around for, and then closes Riddle’s bag for him. “M’kay, that’s all of them.”

The candies in Riddle’s palm crinkle as he curls his fingers around them. “Why—why do you have so many?” he asks, sounding more shocked than upset. “I—I can’t possibly eat all of them on my own.”

“Eh,” Floyd says, as if he hadn’t made all those taffies by hand. “If you don’t want all of ‘em, give ‘em out. I don’t care.”

“I suppose I could,” Riddle says. Hesitantly, he opens his bag and adds his own handful. “Really, if you were planning on giving me all of these, you should’ve packed them in a bag. What about the ones they came in?”

“Threw ‘em out already.”

“...Of course you did,” Riddle sighs. Bag still open, he peers in and rummages around for another piece. He pulls out one with a yellow wrapper. “How many flavors are there?”

“Forgot.”

There are six flavors, actually. Assuming Jade’s remembering correctly (and that his brother was consistent between the flavors and the wrappers), Floyd made plain, strawberry, apple, cherry, watermelon, and lemon. Strawberry was a double batch while watermelon and lemon had to be remade, the flavors too weak and too strong respectively. Floyd had thrown a moody tantrum over those two flavors because of that.

“Mngh… Do you remember anything? Honestly, you’re always—” Cutting himself off with a choked gasp, Riddle’s face suddenly puckers. Floyd bursts into laughter. “Why is this one so sour?”

“It’s lemon!” Floyd says. “Have you never had lemon before? Your face—you really look like a Goldfishie now!”

“I’m not—it’s sour! Lemon isn’t usually this sour!” Riddle yells, still chewing, face flushing. “You—you did this on purpose, didn’t you? I should’ve known you were planning on making fun of me! You’re always, always, always so insufferable!”

Floyd singsongs, “I’m glad you’re lively again!” before dashing out of the classroom, his laughter echoing down the hall. Riddle stomps forward as if in pursuit—only to pull himself back with a sigh.

“I should’ve been more careful,” he mutters. “I can never trust him.”

Still, Riddle unravels another candy as he leaves.

Chapter Text

Floyd is in love with Riddle Rosehearts. Realizing this took Jade longer than he’d like to admit, mainly due to Floyd being Floyd, but there’s no denying the level of attention and care he pays to Riddle. It’s almost on par with the way their mother dotes on their father.

And isn’t that a thought, comparing Floyd’s fresh, first love to that of their parents’, who have been together for several decades and counting, whose mutual doting would often chase Jade and Floyd out of the room.

Maybe it’s because of today’s events that Jade is reevaluating a few things. Refraining from a sigh, Jade glances over at Floyd’s bed, where Floyd is lazily using his phone before bed. His listless expression is a stark contrast to the breathless one he had made earlier, when Riddle had burst into the cafeteria-turned-wedding venue. With the wedding suit and styled hair (along with Riddle’s show of strength), Riddle might as well have performed a courtship dance for Floyd.

Not that either of them seem to notice.

“Why’re you glaring at me, Jade?” Floyd says. Jade blinks. He hadn’t realized he had been staring.

“I apologize; I got lost in thought.”

“About what?”

About your odd relationship with Riddle, Jade thinks. “Marriage,” he says instead. “I suppose the princess’ wedding has left me sentimental.”

Floyd’s bark of laughter is uncomfortably loud for this time of night. “Are you thinkin’ of marrying someone? Who? Wait, lemme guess—”

“I wasn’t thinking of my own marriage.”

“Lame. You sure?”

“I am sure,” Jade says, because the only marriage he’s thinking of is Floyd’s marriage to Riddle. When would it be, who would attend, where it would take place—while Riddle would no doubt be an excellent host, Jade figures his own wedding gift could be his assistance in the planning. Weddings are a notoriously difficult and expensive event to plan, after all, and Jade has had his fair share of experiences in working within a strict budget. He would guarantee his brother and his husband-to-be the wedding of their dreams.

Assuming they ever get that far. Part of Jade wishes they do. Another part—well. Another part of him is a bit reluctant at the idea.

It’s a small, quiet part, but it’s there nonetheless. He and Floyd are brothers, and while they have their bloody fistfights and they know to keep their distance from one another, less someone breaks a bone or loses a tooth, their dynamic has changed little over the years. He knows Floyd’s patterns. His habits. The way his interests ebb and flow with as much regularity as waves during a hurricane.

And yet Riddle has, unknowingly, unintentionally, inspired Floyd to change for what might be the first time in his life. To be more considerate. Careful. To act on more than personal interest and amusement. Or maybe it’s that Riddle’s happiness has become intertwined with Floyd’s personal interest?

Jade sighs. That alone is more than enough reason to be a little discomforted.

“You still thinking about it?” Floyd asks. Jade hums. “Why?”

“I was imagining what kind of people would be unfortunate enough to marry our peers,” Jade half-lies. “And how many of them could end up in… difficult relationships.”

Floyd says “Aw, that’s cruel,” with a wide grin. He immediately jumps in to offer his own predictions: “Firefly Squid’s definitely gonna fall for one of those marriage scams. Seagull—uhg, I don’t wanna think about who’d fall for a guy like that. Crabby could actually find a good partner, and Goldfishie… Who’d want to marry him?”

Jade lets out his breath. “What about that Heartslabyul student from our first year?”

“Which one?”

“The one that cozied up to Riddle. He seemed rather enamored with his house warden.”

The blank look on Floyd’s face morphs into disgust. So he does remember. “Enamored with his dick, maybe,” Floyd says. “Like hell that guy wanted to marry Goldfishie. Besides, Goldfishie didn’t give a shit about him.”

Jade waits for his brother to follow up with another comment, perhaps a “The only person who’d want Goldfishie is me,” or something along those lines. But Floyd falls silent.

Figuring the conversation’s over, Jade settles into his bed and turns off his lamp, plunging the room into darkness. He supposes it’s too early for his brother to act on his affections. Though, if things take much longer, Floyd and Riddle will go their separate ways after graduation, clueless to the relationship budding between them.

It’s a good thing Jade is a caring, kind brother. He’s more than willing to nudge them together.

“Hey, Jade.”

“Yes?”

“If a mer and a human got hitched, would the wedding be in the ocean or on land?”

Jade is a good brother. That he finds this duo’s oblivious dance to be amusing is only a bonus.

“I believe it would depend on the individuals involved,” he answers. Unfortunately, his brother can’t see his shit-eating grin in this pitch-darkness. “However, I would imagine the ocean to be the popular choice. Humans love the beauty of the ocean and adapt to swimming much more readily than a mer can to legs.”

“The ocean’s boring,” Floyd counters. “The surface is way more fun. ‘Sides, everyone I’d want to invite would already know how to walk on land, anyway.”

Jade waits a second. When Floyd doesn’t react to his words, Jade prompts, “Oh?”

“What?”

“Oh, no, it’s nothing,” Jade says and, in a tearful voice, continues, “I had assumed I'd be the first to know about your engagement. I'm rather hurt that you didn't think to tell me earlier.”

Floyd sputters, “Wh—huh? Who said anything about me being engaged?”

“You’re already thinking about who you would invite—”

“HUH? You’re the one that brought up the whole marriage thing in the first place! Who the hell would I be engaged to, anyway? Jade, you fucking—”

When Jade breaks character and laughs, Floyd hurls a pillow towards Jade’s side of the room, sending several items crashing to the floor and nearly hitting Jade’s terrariums.

Jade tosses it back. Violently.

Chapter Text

Floyd’s side of the room is more of a mess than usual: clothes are everywhere but in the wardrobe, there’s numerous shoes scattered on the floor and on the desk (some of which Jade has never seen Floyd wear), and Floyd himself is on the floor, legs in the air and halfway through pulling off a pair of pants.

Jade blinks, remembers Floyd mentioning something about being away for the night, and grins down at his brother.

“Floyd, do be sure to clean up after you’re done,” Jade says. He sits himself down at his desk to watch. Floyd groans.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Floyd’s legs finally tug themselves free from the pants and nearly kick over a tower of shoe boxes. “Uhg, why do I have so many clothes?”

“Do you need assistance?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Are you sure?”

Out of breath, Floyd glares at the ceiling, half-naked in a pile of clothes. His hair is more mussed than usual. He might not have the time to fix it; Jade hopes Riddle won’t mind too much.

Nine seconds pass before Floyd says, “I have to leave in an hour and I haven’t packed anything.” Jade takes it for the cry for help it is and begins to gather Floyd’s toiletries, snacks, and other travel items.

“You’ll be gone tonight and return tomorrow, correct?” he asks. Floyd gives a wordless confirmation. “Pick your overcoat and shoes first; you can wear the same ones both days. Then you can decide on what outfits you want to wear with them. Oh, and don’t forget your pajamas.”

Floyd uncharacteristically complies with Jade’s instructions without a single word of complaint.

After about five minutes, Floyd’s bag is packed with everything but his clothes. It takes him another twenty to decide on his overcoat and shoes, and then another ten to pick out his outfits. All while Jade critiques and comments on everything Floyd picks out from his mess, as is his duty. Really, Floyd’s fashion sense is better than this. The panic must be getting to his head.

At forty minutes, there’s a knock.

Riddle is dressed down in casual, warm clothes when Jade opens the door. “Jade,” he greets, already looking peeved. “Is Floyd ready yet? I told him we should leave at least fifteen minutes early if we don’t want to rush to the bus.”

“He’s almost ready,” Jade says, just as there’s a clatter and crash of noise, followed by a string of curses. “Would you like to come in?”

Riddle peers into their room. “...Is it always such a mess?”

“Not usually,” Jade reassures. “Floyd was going through his wardrobe.”

“Right before we leave?”

“It was a spontaneous thing.”

Finally pulling himself off the ground, Floyd pulls up his pants and secures them shut, grabs his shirt and tosses it on; then he pulls on his socks, shoes, overcoat, and bag. Jade watches Riddle’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. The sight he sees has him worried about his brother’s chastity: face flushed and eyes clearly focused somewhere, Riddle doesn’t snap out of his daze until Floyd’s standing in front of him.

Maybe Jade should’ve packed Floyd condoms, too. It never hurts to be prepared.

Riddle clears his throat. “Let’s get going. I’d rather not run all the way to the bus stop.”

“M’kay, Goldfishie! Lead the way!”

The two walk off, Riddle’s hand around Floyd’s wrist, Floyd easily keeping pace with Riddle’s quick stride. Perhaps they’re refraining from holding hands in public?

Jade calls out, “Have fun on your date!” Two pink faces whip around with clear indignation. He closes the door before their words can reach him.

And here I was ready to congratulate them, Jade thinks. He had been convinced Floyd confessed earlier this week, and that this outing of theirs was their first date.

He had thought it was a fair assumption to make, since they’re going out to town. On their own. And they’re going to spend the night there. With the winter holidays, they’ll be plenty of couples’ activities. Although Jade had thought it was a rather sweet date for Floyd to plan. He’s not sure if it’s better or worse Floyd had done so accidentally.

Jade should’ve double-checked before making a careless comment like that. He might’ve ruined his own fun.

The inevitable messages come in not too long after, likely once Floyd and Riddle are settled on the bus into town:

whatd you mean date

this isnt a date

It seems as if Jade’s two years of teasing has come to an end.

Is it not? I was under the assumption it was.

is it???

Do you want it to be one?

Floyd doesn’t respond. Oh dear, Jade thinks. His brother is likely reeling with the realization. Since the beginning, he’s been drawn to his “Goldfishie.” Always teasing him, chasing him, and hiding genuine displays of affection between shows of indifference and more teasing. It must be difficult for him to come to this realization now, when the object of his two-year crush is sitting right next to him. When they’re going to be spending the rest of the night together. Alone.

Maybe Jade should head into town, too. He could make the most out of this. He could bring along an audience. Azul and a few of the basketball club members, perhaps? It would be the perfect time to embarrass his brother further. He could take videos of their not-date date and title it, “Floyd Leech Finally Gets His Shit Together.” Maybe that should be his wedding gift.

Sighing, Jade sets about cleaning Floyd’s half of the room. It’s a shame he’ll be losing his easy entertainment, but Floyd will still be Floyd, and Riddle will still be Riddle. They’re not the type of people to lose all semblance of identity once they enter a romantic agreement.

(That doesn’t mean it doesn’t come as a relief when Floyd calls Jade later that night to snap at him. Jade can feel his brother’s blush through the phone, through the way he stammers and goes quiet when Jade asks about Riddle’s whereabouts. In the shower, he answers. He hangs up after Jade says, Oh? You’re not going to join him?)

Chapter Text

Jade hears the rumors about “That Leech and the Ex-Tyrant Getting Together” before he sees the physical proof himself, even though he is the first to know about the newest development to their relationship. The way his brother had returned the morning after his and Riddle’s first “date” with a red, giddy face and averted eyes had been a clear sign.

The two are surprisingly private about their dating life. Floyd had seemed like the type to flaunt his relationships, if only to embarrass both his partner and the people around him, but he brings up Riddle less often now that they’re officially together. (Of course, that doesn’t stop him from going on tangents if someone else brings up Riddle.)

And so, Jade doesn’t see the new couple until he stumbles upon them in a semi-private corner of Mostro Lounge.

They’re curled into each other, Riddle dutifully doing his homework with one hand, the other occupied with Floyd’s. Floyd’s eyes are closed, his chin resting on Riddle’s head. Jade would’ve thought he was asleep were it not for the way he fiddles with Riddle’s fingers.

He looks so content. Sitting still, skipping work, and curled loosely around his “Goldfishie.” Jade debates interrupting them but decides against it. Instead, he goes through the rest of the tables and, once his break rolls around, he checks on their table again.

They haven’t moved. Good.

Riddle startles out of his focus when Jade sets down a drink. “We didn’t order anything,” he begins, but he takes another look at the drink and falters.

It’s one of the more obnoxious drinks Mostro Lounge serves: a large, sweet, and colorful couples’ drink. It’s a milkshake in name and a parfait in structure, the bottommost layer buried under sponge cake, ice cream, berries, and whipped cream, completed with two heart straws. This particular one is vanilla and strawberry—though Jade took the liberty of adding blueberries.

“It’s on the house,” Jade says, as he tucks the serving tray to his chest. “Consider it our thanks for putting up with Floyd.”

Floyd, having opened his eyes upon hearing Jade’s voice, squints. “And Azul’s letting you?”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine with it.”

“So you didn’t tell him,” Floyd says. “Cool. Goldfishie, gimme a bite.”

Riddle dutifully pulls the drink closer. Floyd leans over Riddle’s shoulder and takes a sip. Swallows, frowns, and returns to resting his head on Riddle’s. “Gross,” he says. “It’s too sweet.”

“It is one of the sweetest items on our menu,” Jade informs him. Riddle, predictably, seems to have no complaints about the dessert. “You should’ve known that already, Floyd, seeing as you were the one to make the original recipe.”

“I was?”

“You were?” Riddle shifts, as if to look Floyd in the face, only to give up when Floyd refuses to budge. “I didn’t know you could make desserts.”

“Oh?” Jade says, ignoring the sudden intensity of Floyd’s glare. Really, it’s on Floyd for not saying anything earlier. “Floyd is an excellent cook and baker, so long as his mood allows for it. Don’t you remember the taffies he gave you our second year? If I recall correctly, it was right after your Overb—ah, excuse me. After you returned to class.”

Floyd hisses Jade’s name, his face splotching with an uneven flush. Riddle isn’t as quick to recall the event. Luckily, Jade is more than willing to jog his memory.

“Floyd spent several days learning how to make them properly,” he says. “He had me buy wrappers for all of them—I didn’t know at the time who they were for, but he came into class to gift you all of them. I assume he wanted to cheer you up.”

Riddle’s face flashes with recognition. “You handmade those? All of them? And you never told me?”

“Yes, Floyd’s been rather enamored with you since day one,” Jade continues. “I should’ve recorded the face he made after your first fight.”

“He has?”

“Jade.”

“Or that time he got jealous over that student you were tutoring in the library—”

“Jade.”

“—Or the time you showed up in a wedding suit and blasted those ghosts away. I was sure he was going to confess right then and there—”

Floyd, now blushing down to his neck, wriggles free from Riddle and trips in his haste to strangle Jade, who takes a cheery step back. “Don’t listen to him, Riddle!” Floyd snaps. “He’s just sayin’ shit to embarrass me—none of that actually happened—”

All at once, the three of them freeze. Jade gets the honor of seeing his brother’s eyes go wide.

“Floyd,” Riddle breathes. “Floyd, say it again. Say my name again.”

“Nuh-uh,” Floyd says. “I didn’t say anything. I said Goldfishie.”

“You said Riddle.”

“Nuh-uh.”

Very clearly weighing his possible actions, Floyd’s eyes zero in on Jade. Riddle tugs Floyd’s arm and pulls him back from an attempted fratricide.

“I like hearing you say my name,” Riddle says. It’s the sort of line that should be said demurely, all fluttering lashes and lowered eyes, but Riddle says it directly and simply as if it were another fact of his life. “Are you going to insist on calling me ‘Goldfishie’ forever? Even now that we’re together?”

When Floyd refuses to respond, Riddle’s expression turns smug. “Well,” he says, “I understand if you’re too shy to use it. We can always work up to it.”

“I’m not shy,” Floyd mutters, with his skin the color of Riddle’s hair. He settles down and pouts.

“Of course not,” Jade says. “That’s why it took you until your third year to confess. And why you called me the night of your first date, crying about how you didn’t know how to confess to—”

“JADE—”

Jade flees the scene. “Congratulations, you two!” he calls over his shoulder. He has to duck to avoid the spoon Floyd flings at him. “It’s about time!”