Chapter Text
With a deep stretch, Jimmy pulled his eyes from his phone's screen, his absent scrolling of Twitter serving no real purpose than to distract from the cleaning he'd promised to do. It was just so boring—maybe less so if he could listen to music or a podcast while he did it, but he'd ripped his wired earbuds clean in half two weeks ago, and the last thing they needed was a noise complaint. He had to get it done, though, before he was forced to hear that disappointed lilt for the fourth day in a row.
Jimmy tore himself free from the comfort of their bed, begrudgingly. Careful to keep his wings closely pressed to his back, it was barely a few paces before he was in their little kitchenette. A tight squeeze, if he didn't tilt his wings just right, and even then, he couldn’t help brushing a wingtip against their flamingo-shaped lamp at the edge of their tiny living room—and near impossible for both him and his partner to squish into.
He had, like, what… ten minutes to get an entire sink of dishes done? Piece of cake.
This was his one chore that couldn't be done for him. Well—no, it could, and it had been, a few times, but it should only be his chore.
Now just get started on it, he willed himself. It wasn’t that hard.
He stared blankly at the stack of dishes, greasy surfaces glistening beneath the flickering kitchen light in what felt like a personal taunt, before he sighed and shook his head.
Jimmy went to water the flower box hanging off their windowsill instead. The box was a crowded blend of red, blue, and violet flowers—they’d originally only bought red and blue ones, but the violet ones had started cropping up a few weeks ago. They hadn’t known why, but they were pretty enough that they’d decided to leave them be.
As he watered, he noted how the poppies were falling into each other and blocking off the light for the forget-me-nots again. He tried in vain to keep them from covering the other flowers, watching them limply fall back even as he tried to prop them up.
From somewhere behind him, he heard the telltale jingle of keys, followed by a quiet clicking sound. Oh, there was no way it had been ten minutes already—
"Honey, I'm home!" his partner announced, his signature warmth filling the room in an instant.
"Tango, hi—" Jimmy greeted him, a very short, guilty glance cast at his lack of progress in the dishes department. "How was—how was work?" he asked, smacking the hot water on and grabbing the first plate nearby.
Tango kicked the door shut behind him, the bout of force enough to make the small, already-crooked painting of ravagers playing poker shift slightly on the wall. He winced and moved to straighten it, but from Jimmy’s angle, he could tell it was still askew.
Oh whatever, he thought. Their apartment already wasn’t the epitome of good interior design—their patchy orange couch sufficiently ensured that on its own. Nothing matched it.
"Work was fine," answered Tango, raising up a hand to wave a paper as he added, "What's less than great is that rent's going up by 300 if we renew our lease." He sighed. “Lunere prices are crazy compared to Aurecove.”
"Wait, seriously?" Jimmy set a plate in the dish rack and grabbed another, mind whirring. He’d never lived in Aurecove himself—according to Tango, the mer city he’d grown up in was called Meris Hollow—but Tango had brought up the cost of living differences many times over their time together. He’d always seemed optimistic about it, claiming it was worth the extra cost for all of the opportunities, but sometimes, it seemed a bit ridiculous to Jimmy. "That can't be right. Didn't you say it should be closer to, like, 120?"
"Should've been, but apparently 'fire-related property damage—'" he said in air quotes, "—and 'repeatedly disturbing the peace' are grounds to hike it up."
Jimmy winced, memories flashing in his mind of all the times they’d accidentally set off the fire alarm in the middle of the night because Tango had scared himself awake while rolling off the bed, setting something in their shoebox of an apartment on fire in the process.
It probably also did not help that Tango’s sneeze reflex involved a mini fireball, and Jimmy’s feathers were fantastic at triggering said reflex.
That was part of why all their furniture was bought cheap without regard for aesthetics—at least if their devil goose and turkey curtains burned, it wasn’t much money down the drain. They hadn’t even paid full price for them when they’d gotten them; they had come in a bundle deal with matching bed sheets.
“Still,” Jimmy replied, running a finger around the rim of a glass to check if it was still oily, “that can’t be right, can it?”
Tango gave a loose shrug, arms falling limply to his sides as he sighed, “That’s city life, I guess.” He leaned back against the wall. “Don’t worry, we’ll make it work. We’ll just... have to cut back a bit.”
Jimmy scrubbed harder at a spot on his 'My boyfriend is hotter than this coffee' mug. “Maybe I’ll get a promotion soon so I can help out more, you never know,” he tried, though he knew both of them were aware that Jimmy’s job at Half Foods would never earn him enough to compare to Tango’s contributions toward supporting themselves.
“Maybe,” Tango agreed, slanting him a smile. “We’ll be alright regardless, though, so don’t stress about it.”
Jimmy sighed as he set the mug to the side, watching droplets drip down the rim. How could he not stress about it?
He didn’t want to ruin what was obviously Tango’s attempt to reassure him, however, so he instead remarked, “By the way, Keralis invited me to the boardwalk to hang out tomorrow.” Shrugging, he speculated, “Maybe—I don't know—maybe becoming better friends with people who have been there longer than me will help in the long run?”
The logic wasn’t entirely sound, but Tango nevertheless nodded along. “I’m sure it will, yeah,” he reckoned, his tail flicking behind him absentmindedly. It tended to twitch when he was lying, Jimmy had noticed by now, so at least he could take solace in knowing Tango meant what he was saying.
"But it seems fun anyway," Jimmy said, "whether it's useful or not. Maybe we’ll see some ghosts or something—Keralis mentioned a lot of people like going there since they think it’s haunted or something."
"Mhm, I’ve heard of that as well. Urban legends around here are funny—remember that guy on the train who went on about sea monsters in the sewers? Gotta be careful about the water, though, remember?" Tango was sure to note. "Don't need you going all fishface on me."
"I won't, I won't," Jimmy chuckled a bit, shutting the water off for a minute to reorganize the mess he'd made of the dish rack. Hopefully everything would fit on it right. The canary hybrid continued, waving a hand dismissively, "xB said he really just likes going for the casinos anyway, so we probably won't even be by the water."
Tango raised an eyebrow, faux disbelief painted on his face. "So my sweet, loving partner is going to be gambling all of our funds away? How evil!"
"No! No, I'm not—" Jimmy laughed. "I'm definitely not, but he might. With his own funds, not mine—I'm not spending a thing."
"I'm just messin' with you," Tango said, pushing off the wall and moving toward the closet—not even big enough for one of them to halfway stand in, if it were emptied—grabbing at something to change into, out of his work clothes. "Don't worry about the money thing, really," he tossed over his shoulder. "I've got it under control, 'kay?"
"Hundred percent." Jimmy didn't respond further than offering over a smile, busying himself with the dishes once more. No doubt, he'd be worrying about it. Tango could only shoulder so much of the burden for the both of them—heck, he did Jimmy's chores for him, too, sometimes. Tango was a giver, he’d learned; he was always patient with Jimmy, always willing to bend to allow him the leeway he thought he needed. He was always doing things for Jimmy, even to his own detriment sometimes.
But that was love, wasn’t it? Jimmy chewed on his lip in thought as Tango hung his jacket. Love was warm compassion and fiery devotion, a dance of compromises brokered over soft laughter and gentle gestures. And they had that—but still something wasn’t sitting right with Jimmy, even as he tried to convince himself it was all perfect.
The thought that something was still missing nagged at him—but he stifled the thought with a shake of his head. The love was there. If anything was wrong from the relationship, it was a shortcoming on his end.
And indeed, Jimmy wanted to contribute more, wanted to be able to support Tango the way his partner did for him, but he was always tripping over his feet at every obstacle, always fighting with himself to take the smallest of steps forward.
That was the drawback of starting over on land, he supposed—he’d only really had three years of life experience like this—and while he would never regret the decisions that had gotten him this life, he could certainly be frustrated by all the ground he had to cover before he could get anywhere near being able to stand on equal footing with Tango in this relationship.
Still, as he glanced at his boyfriend, brow creased in mirth, the warm kitchen lighting glinting off the rosy lenses of his non-prescription glasses, Jimmy was reminded of why he’d chosen this path in the first place—if nothing else, they had each other. And that was enough.
"Ayatatata—yeep!"
Tango clawed at the blankets in a feeble, desperate attempt to save himself from falling, but to no avail. A hearty thunk against the ground was the chorus to his fairytale awakening. Squeezed into the thin space between the wall and their twin-sized mattress, both he and all of the blankets made their home, much to Jimmy's chagrin, it seemed.
Even in his annoyance, Tango couldn't help but melt hearing his little songbird's morning voice, grumbling some incomprehensible complaint about all the movement. Something along the lines of, "Do you have to go already?" if Tango had to guess.
"Not going anywhere yet, nope," he responded, clearing his throat. "You just pushed me off again."
"No, I didn't," Jimmy denied, eyes still closed as he reached a hand out, his whole body leaning into the movement. "Go back to sleep, c'mere." He intended to pat the bed, clearly, but just waved a hand, because he was so far toward the side.
"Your wings are taking up the whole everything—I think the floor would be better at this point," Tango said with a grin, snagging one of the thinnest blankets to throw over his partner's head. He laughed at the sight of the goose face printed on the blanket draped over his partner’s forehead. "Rest well, birdface, I'm gonna just—I'll make breakfast or something."
Jimmy let out another nonsensical mumble but didn’t move to stop him. Tango chuckled quietly as he walked over to open the fridge, drumming his fingers on the top of the door as he reviewed its contents. He made a mental note that they needed to pick up more eggs as he pulled out four and set them on the counter nearby. One nearly rolled away, luckily caught, but not before Tango let out a panicked squeak at the close call.
"No laughing," he decried as he caught the muffled sound of a giggle. "I'm gonna make the best omelet you've ever had in your life, watch me! Or don't—you should be—wait, you should be asleep! Get to sleep, mister!" Tango pointed his freshly acquired spatula toward Jimmy accusingly.
The man had already sat up, his wings slumped behind him as he stared forward, wrapped in that blue blanket. A few golden feathers peeked out from beneath the soft fabric, sleep-ruffled but just as beautiful as the rest of him, Tango thought. "I'm not gonna go back to sleep now—I just properly woke up," Jimmy responded. "Do you want help, by the way, or can I just sit here and watch?"
"You can close those pretty little eyes and you can go back to bed," Tango said, turning sharply back to face the counter. He knew he wasn't going to, though, so he made a show of flicking his tail back and forth, and bending down to grab a pan.
What? If he was wanting to watch anyway, best give him a show, right? Every little laugh and "Oh my gosh" he earned was well worth it.
Tango hummed as he stepped across the kitchenette. He couldn’t claim to be the best cook—frankly, Jimmy’s skills somehow dwarfed his despite his boyfriend’s lack of land experience—but he’d done this enough for it to be routine.
He set the fire to a low heat as he went about beating the eggs in a bowl, barely remembering to add salt before he poured them onto the skillet.
As Tango waited to be able to flip the omelet, Jimmy stretched and asked, “Got anything interesting planned today?”
He shrugged in response. “We’re working on stuff, y'know—lots of just going back over stuff we did before. Abstraction, ya know?" When Jimmy blinked at him, not understanding, Tango decided he'd have some fun with this. "Yeah, we're de-spaghetti-ifying the… turboencabulificators and seeing how, uh—how the transmission components interact with the binary-encoding comparators. Basic stuff, really. Makes sense, right?"
He bit back a laugh as Jimmy continued to give him a blank stare before saying, “That—” he shook his head, “—yeah, that definitely makes sense…”
Tango snorted on a laugh. “It does, doesn’t it?” he pressed in a teasing tone, watching Jimmy huff.
“Look at me, alright—” Tango raised an eyebrow and complied as Jimmy crossed his arms, “—You pulled me outta the ocean three years ago. You know what I know about redstone.”
Tango nodded along, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Nothing, yes.”
“Right. So all of your redstone nonsense—” he waved his hands for emphasis, wings nearly flaring out to the length of the room, “is just that to me: nonsense.”
“Got it, got it.” He nodded some more, humming in faux agreement. “Not all of us can be extra mega super geniuses of awesomeness.” He gestured grandly with his egg flipper as Jimmy snorted.
“The eggs are burning,” he deadpanned, snickering as Tango fumbled to try to flip the omelet, only for it to break apart in the pan. He could feel his hair fire flare as he failed yet again to fold the omelet right, winding up with something that forfeited the right to be called an omelet with how scrambled it appeared. It was half-burnt on the bottom, uncooked on the top, and an all around mess. Tendrils of smoke were beginning to curl up from the blackened bits.
Jimmy laughed and walked over to see into the pan, cackling when he saw the state of the eggs. “Those are—those are cooked, alright,” he gasped out as Tango turned the knob off and reached for a plate to transfer the food onto.
"So my genius doesn't transfer over to cooking, yeah, whatever, I know," Tango grumbled, tossing the pan into the sink after he scraped his attempts at a nice breakfast out onto a platter. His further grumblings weren't even words, just sounds.
"Aw—look, it's not that bad. They still look edible," Jimmy tried reassuring him. The words themselves would only have served to make Tango feel worse, frankly, but the hand set on his shoulder and genuine smile offered forth were plenty enough to put him at ease.
"Yeah, it's not like either of us are strangers to some burny burny, huh?" he returned, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his partner's cheek before continuing. "And it's not a certified Tango Tek dish if it's not a little hot"—he gestured to his creation—"so, eat up, handsome. Can't be runnin' around on an empty stomach!”
After divvying up the eggs and having breakfast together, Tango sighed and glanced at the clock. Forty minutes to nine—if he wanted to leave time for possible train delays on his commute, he needed to get going.
“I’ll see you when I get back from hanging with Keralis,” Jimmy said as Tango pulled on his shoes. “Probably gonna be back around six-ish.” In response, Tango gave a little mock salute, laughing.
“Can’t wait,” he replied. Then, with one last quick parting kiss, he set off to conquer his morning commute.
Thirty-seven minutes and two trains later, Tango walked into work. Strips of sunlight filtered through the cracks in the blinds, casting the bland off-white walls in some semblance of a golden haze.
He took a moment to catch his breath after sprinting from the train station before slipping off his spring jacket—which was technically intended as a winter coat, but Tango always needed more layers to feel comfortable—and taking a seat. From the workstation next to him, Mumbo greeted him with a small wave, which he returned, falling into their usual routine of talking about their commutes that day.
“Man, the train did not want me to be here on time,” Tango said, prompting his coworker to chuckle.
“It came late again?” Mumbo guessed.
Tango huffed as he booted up his computer. “It came late and it went express right before my stop. I had to hop on a downtown one to get back here.”
“Oh goodness,” Mumbo said with a sympathetic grimace. “Well, at least you’re here now.”
“Just in time to chip at this problem bit,” he agreed as he scrolled through the project file, trying to jog his memory of where he left off last week. He flexed his fingers and with a sigh, settling in for a long workday as he let thoughts of his smiling boyfriend spur him on.
Jimmy shivered as a spring breeze drifted down the boardwalk. Despite the bright sun overhead, it was still fairly chilly for his standards—a side effect of being accustomed to living with Tango, he supposed.
Next to him, Keralis balanced a frankly comical amount of oversized plushies in his arms, won from an array of games. Compared to him, Jimmy looked like he'd never played a carnival game in his life—which, to be fair, he hadn't. Made him feel a tad awkward, waving politely to passersby that were wont to stare at such a haul.
From the ring toss to the water guns, his friend managed consistently to knock it out of the park. It made Jimmy wonder how many times Keralis had been to this place—but either way, he did appreciate being taken as a serious opponent, even if he fell short each time.
A small gasp pulled Jimmy's attention to a little ender-hybrid kid running past, pointing then scurrying off to meet up with their parent, promptly nagging them about wanting a stuffed animal like that. Jimmy chuckled nervously, a courteous nod of acknowledgement made to the parent as he ushered his friend aside.
"Don't you think you should, like, go put those in your car or something?" Jimmy suggested. "You're gonna—Keralis you're—there's a pole there!"
Jimmy winced then sighed in relief as the man stopped mere steps before a potential disaster.
"Oh? Thank you—" Keralis laughed, craning his neck to peer at the wooden beam ahead. "Maybe you're right, just maybe. But hear me out—I could pass these out, if somebody looks like they're having a lonely day."
Jimmy blinked, humming shortly in consideration. "I mean, that's nice," he conceded. "That's very nice—I don't know if you could see anyone right now, though."
"Well that's what you're for, sweetface," laughed Keralis. "You're my eyes! Look into my eyes—while usually I can see the whole—" He paused briefly, singing softly, "I could show you the world!" He snickered. "Normally, at least, but right now I can't. So you look ahead for me, see? It's the perfect arrangement."
"I—" Well, it felt rude to just say no, but he wasn't too keen on being a guide dog. Again, he tried, "You should—listen, sure, I'll be your eyes all the way to your car, so you can put those somewhere. 'Kay?"
"Hmmm."
"You're thinking about it! You're considering it!" Jimmy noted, playfully accusatory. "It's a good idea, I swear!"
"M'kay, fine," Keralis agreed. "Only 'cause I love your face."
"Thank you."
More than once on the way back, Jimmy had to course correct, getting turned around. Luckily it was a straight shot once the pier exit was in sight, the dazzling lights of games and rides behind them.
He dusted off his hands at a job well done once they'd pressed Keralis's plush trophies into his back seat. The pleading eyes of a sheriff plush toy begging to be set free from its metal prison stared daggers into Jimmy, and he narrowed his eyes back then turned to squint at the afternoon sun, cresting behind the western skyscrapers.
"Since we are off the pier now," Keralis broke into his thoughts, "we could go by the shoppies and things over that way, if you're interested."
"Oh, uh." Jimmy shook his head, waving a dismissive hand. "I appreciate it, but I promised not to spend too much, so I think I'll pass. Plus, I haven't been by the water in a long time, so I wanna stay by the pier a little longer."
"An ocean man," mused Keralis.
"Kind of? You're not wrong, genuinely," the man chuckled in response.
"—take me by the hand, lead me to the—" his friend referenced, cutting himself off to respond in earnest. "You like to swim then?"
"No! No, sorry, no," Jimmy stumbled in saying, coming across more defensive than he intended to initially. "I can't swim. I just like looking at the water."
"Interesting…" Keralis narrowed his eyes at him. "Very interesting."
"Uhh…"
"Anyhows," he moved on readily, "If you take the ferris wheel, take some pretty pictures of the water. I do it every time I go. It's like tradition." He held up a hand to blot the sun out from his eyes, pointing slightly inland, to where flashing signs led to the waterside casinos. "I'm going over that way, so I'll meet you back here if you want a drive home—meet at, like, sunset?"
"That sounds good, yeah." Jimmy nodded. "If not, I'll just take the train—catch you later?" Before Keralis could get too far, he raised an arm to wave the red paper bracelet around his wrist, calling, "Thanks again for admission!"
“Don’t get kidnapped by a ghost!” came his distant reply.
Jimmy chuckled, shaking his head. The boardwalk bustled around him, a small child who couldn’t be any older than ten giggling as he sprinted past Jimmy down toward the beach area carrying a to-go cup full of some fizzy red drink that sloshed as he moved. Further down the boardwalk, a couple was posing next to the water, a sheep hybrid woman holding up a phone to photograph them from across the way.
Jimmy sighed as he cast his sights past the main hubbub. It had been a while since he’d gotten anywhere near the ocean, mostly out of fear that he’d lose his memories again if he returned. He couldn’t say he missed the sea—how could he miss what he couldn’t remember, he thought—but he couldn’t deny that some part of him was drawn to it, be it out of curiosity or some distant nostalgia. He didn’t regret coming to land, though, wouldn’t regret it, he told himself.
Merely imagining the splash of seaspray against his skin was enough to send a shiver down his spine. He reached up to touch the scar on his chest instinctively as the cold ghost of something sharp briefly distracted him; refusing to dwell on the nature of the memory, he shook his head.
He realized a few paces away from the water that he’d nearly crossed the entire boardwalk. His gaze lingered on the horizon line a moment before he returned to his senses. His life was up here. Tango was up here.
Still, he supposed that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the view from above.
Jimmy ambled aimlessly down the boardwalk, eventually distancing himself from the sparse clusters of people dotted across the space. This far out, the crowd’s chatter and the beeps and trills of carnival game machines were nothing but white noise, able to be drowned out by a particularly blustery wind.
One such gust caught him off guard and he stiffened at the sensation, instinctively gripping his jacket closer. He hesitated—maybe this was a sign to turn back. Just before he committed to the act, however, he heard it: a soft, almost hauntingly melodic chime echoed in his ears.
His skin prickled as he glanced around nervously, suddenly feeling like he was being watched. A tide of unease roiled in his stomach as he took an instinctive step back, eyes widening as he heard something creak.
The phantasmal noise rang out once more as a shock of cold registered, inundating his senses. He shrieked, feeling something—hands, it seemed like—moving to grip his shoulders, touch water-slick and sharply foreign as Jimmy’s life flashed before his eyes.