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He doesn't know when it began, but lately, Fits time spent with Pac has seemed… different. Different in what way, Fit is still trying to figure that out. They’ve laughed together, fought together, comforted each other, but it doesn't feel the same as before.
In his hand were a few roses, seemingly hastily wound together at the stem, the thorns slightly pricking his finger in a way he didn't mind. If anything, he welcomed the pain to hopefully clear his mind from whatever was clouding his composure.
Before him lay his good friend, Pac, who sat in a sturdy wooden chair across from him at Star Bobby. It has been a complete coincidence that they had run into each other and decided to catch up while having a meal at Star Bobbys, though, seeing Richarlysons smirk when they bumped into each other, perhaps he had been wrong about that.
Though, at the time, Richas’s expression was far from the dominant thought in Fits mind.
Pac had seemed to stumble though his words when basically shoving the flowers in Fits direction. If Fit wasn’t accustomed to controlling his emotions, he doesn’t know if he’d be much better, and that's what concerned him. When did Pac start infiltrating his mind like this? Pac this and Pac that… When does it stop… does he even want it to stop?
They’ve been in mildly awkward conversation for awhile now, bringing up the weather or the status of their respective children that they know aren't too far away. Despite the light topics, the conversation became more natural the more they talked, similar to the normalcy they usually have. Wait, what? Why is this different then how we usually are? How did it become different?
Fit thoughts were wandering but he couldn’t help but take a brief pause at the sight that had been bestowed upon him. They had been talking for so long across the slightly tattered wooden table holding their half-eaten meal that the sun had started to set, casting both light and shadow onto the figure in front of him. Pac's black hair glowed from behind, his hair a bit unruly from the evening wind. The features of his face dulled in the lack of light, but were visible enough to make out; his mostly blue sweatshirt became a black silhouette with a golden outline, as if he was a deity.
A though creeped into Fits head, one that instilled him with a fear he had never felt before:
When did he get so beautiful?
The thought was brushed away to the far corners of his mind before it could do any real damage to his current composure, but Pac had already noticed a trail of light pink on the bald man's cheeks and ears.
“Wanna go now?” Pac continued, his voice somewhat sheepish. “Ramon and Richarlyson are probably up to some shenanigans with Phil.” They were both grateful when Phil showed up an hour into the dinner and asked to take care of the children, but knowing their kids, Phil might be a little in over his head.
Fit gave a soft chuckle, “Yeah… I’m half expecting to see the house half burned to the ground when I get back. I hope Phil tucked him in already”
“It wouldn't be a surprise if Chume Labs was no more,” Pac chimed in, “I'll be sure to thank Phil the next time I see him.”
After a few lingering chuckles, Fit and Pac parted ways, going to their respective houses awaiting the mass destruction from their small but capable children.
The next day when Fit awoke, he went to Ramons house as usual, but he was still in bed when he arrived. He attributed that to the ruckus Ramon had probably caused the night before. Fit sat on the edge of Ramon’s bed and simply stared at his beautiful baby boy. He sighed a loving sigh, and his mind began to wander back to the night before.
Pac. His gorgeous dark hair, illuminated and flowing in tune to the evening wind; his eyes, the only feature he could make out through the shadows cast by the setting sun. Truly beautiful, Fit thought almost instinctively.
Before Fit’s consciousness could do any more thinking into that particular thought, Ramon awoke in a flash, suddenly upright, and staring at his father.
“How was yesterday?” the boy wrote on his chalk slate beside his bed. Ramon seems to have an insinuating look in his eyes toward his father about what happened last night.
“Now Ramon,” Fit began in a fatherly speech, “I don’t know what you’re implying here, but I had a fantastic time last night. Now you on the other hand… you may have had an even better one.”
Fit looks around the room to see a mess; there were drawings all over the walls, looking like Richarlyson’s handiwork, the remnants of pizza from the boxes on the floor, and several wrappers from a variety of different candy. “Seems you had a little bit of a party,” Fit chuckled.
He was glad that Ramon was having fun, and he made a mental note to thank Phil for that later.
The day passed as usual, no unnecessary thoughts plaguing his mind to an inescapable reality he had yet to realise.
After putting Ramon to sleep to wrap up their day together, Fit finds himself drawn to the roses he had been keeping in his inventory. Pulling them out, he could see the beginning signs of withering on the lustrous red petal. A perfect spot came to mind.
He slowly walked from Ramon house to his own, traversing the outside of his lava cast home with ease. At the top, lay his garden adorned with moss and a few flowers of varying origins. He always loved this garden because he found it funny how these flowers were so beautiful and thriving atop a structure known for being in the midst of danger.
Reaching into his inventory, he pulled out the roses and pushed aside some of the dirt with his hand to make space. He covered the roots once they were securely in place and admired his handiwork.
The roses swayed in the brisk, now nighttime, air, releasing its lovely scent to those who were in range. Fit smiled at the scent, allowing his mind to wander just a bit. Unbeknownst to him, a small tint of red contrasted his skin.
A few days had passed as things normally went: Fit went on a few impromptu fishing trips at the sight of his catfish-infesting river in front of his house, a few trips to Phils to thank him for the other day, and went on a few adventures with Ramon.
Over his communication device, he got a message from Phil:
From Ph1LzA: Hey, Pac and I are planning on going to do a dungeon today, would you want to come with us?
Fit thought about it… and of course he would love to go on an outing with his two best friends.
To Ph1LzA: Sure! I’ll be right over. Ramon is with Tubbo today so I’ll be coming alone.
From Ph1lzA: All good! Pac said the same actually, Richas is with Tubbo too, and so I sent Tallulah and Chayanne to him as well. Might as well make it a parents day out, though I’m a little worried for Tubbo…
Fit felt a quick surge of worry and condolences for Tubbo, but it soon got washed away by his excitement to spend the day with Pac! …and Phil.
They arrived at the entrance to the dungeon, its danger masked by the peaceful nature surrounding the door.
“You really outdid yourself Phil,” Fit chimed in. He could tell it was a Nether Dungeon and those were not easy to come by.
“Well I had to for this special occasion,” Phil added slyly, “Pac, you seem excited”
Pac was lingering a bit behind the group, but had a big smile plastered on his face. “Of course, I’m excited to go beat up some monsters with my huge muscles!” He joked while mimicking a bodybuilder's flexing position. They all laughed as they headed inside.
As they made their way down a flight of rugged cobblestone stairs, a few groans and sharp hisses could be heard echoing around them. Inside was a cavern adorned with nether-like patterns and decorations, all only barely visible due to the dull, blue light emitting from the soul lanterns. Despite the danger in front of them, it was quite a beautiful environment.
Before they could fully take it in, a blazing fireball shot at Fit, just barely missing his cheek. If he had hair, it would have most definitely been seared and singed. Just as he was about to make a remark about how ‘this is going to be a cinch,’ 6 more blazes appeared in front of them.
An array of firing balls flew toward them at high speeds, rendering conversation impossible while their trained muscle memory kicked in. Fit was in his element, dodging with ease; looking for the perfect opportunity to strike.
In a quick glance behind him, he took in the state of his other companions on this adventure: Phil seemed to be doing okay simply dodging the fireballs, knowing Fit will probably put an end to them soon, while Pac was using a shield to block the attacks. Pac, while stepping backward, seemed to hit a loose rock on the floor, and he tumbled backward.
Completely disregarding his previous mission, he hurried to Pac, in an attempt to stop his fall. Though, that day, the rock won twice. Fit’s foot collided with something and next thing he knew he was on ground, a fireball shooting directly towards his face.
Before he could even think of a next move, a figure moved in front of him as he saw the sparks from the fire dissipate into the shield. Illuminated by the sparks, the figure was impossible to mistake, Pac. Pac’s grip on the shield was strong and his legs were sturdy on the ground; unmoving. Fit watched as the disappearing embers danced around the muscles dotted with droplets of sweat of the man in front of him. “Are you okay, Big Boy,” Pac jokes in their usual ways.”
He was genuinely speechless. His mind was filled with words he wouldn't dare to speak aloud.
After a quick beat, Phil coughed, breaking the moment. He held a few blaze rods in his hands from the now dead blazes. Fit got up clumsily but soon gained his composure in an eye roll after another of Phil’s signature ‘call out’ coughs. He had no idea how he looked at the moment, but he tried to stay ahead of the group to hide whatever was making his face warm.
They finished the rest of the dungeon without incident and made their way to a nearby cliff, overhanging a meadow. After a long day, they sat exchanging jokes and laughing amongst each other. Once again, in the later hours of the day, the sun gave in to its daily descent and began its departure from the sky.
Pac glowed, outlined in the marigold light.
Breathtaking, the only word Fit could think of at the moment… and then it clicks. It's all clicks. He enjoys watching Pac’s hair float as if it were weightless in the wind, he is knocked down 80 IQ points when looking at Pac’s muscles, he sees a god reborn in the glowing silhouette he thanked the sun for creating, he loves spending time with Pac, loves being around him, sharing all the parts of him he wanted to keep hidden because… he likes him. It all made sense.
Phil was watching the two in silence, a smirk on his face, on Fit hasn’t released yet, or else he would put an end to it.
“I’m going to be right back, I saw some flowers I would love to get for 'Lullah a little bit ago and I want to get them before it gets too dark,” Pac interjected into the silence.
As Pac walked off, Phil turned to Fit and pointed at his own cheeks, giving very clear implications to Fit. Fit’s scoff quickly turned into a sigh and he adorned a very genuine face towards Phil.
“I think I might… like him,” the words tumbled out of Fits mouth. They weren’t ones to keep secrets, and Fit wanted Phil to know so he didn’t have to be alone in his feelings.
“You think?!?” Phil said loudly yet jokingly, “you’ve been eyeing the poor man since you first laid eyes on him, I’m surprised it took you this long.”
Fit felt a bit offended that was rooting in his current embarrassment. He messaged Pac that he would be heading home and told him to enjoy his night. Before warping away, he eyes seemed to involuntarily side eye Phil as the purple particles whisked him away.
Fit got a message from Tubbo detailing that all the kids would be sleeping over at his place tonight, so he had the night to himself.
He slowly walked over to his bed and flopped face first into the firm mattress. His thoughts ran wild. It was easy before being around Pac when he hadn’t made that realisation, but there was no hiding now. He wouldn’t be around without spewing the words ‘I like you’ or even more.
He rolled over onto his face and covered his face with his hands. He thought, in the words of Tubbo, it’s joever.
The following morning, Fit snuck into Chume Labs to leave a small book in a chest in Pac's room. He didn’t have the courage to even type him the words through his communicator in fear of having to respond, so he did the next ‘best’ thing.
Night came quickly for them both. After sending the invitation, Fit was nervous the whole day. It wasn’t that he was dreading the rendezvous, he simply was afraid of the outcome and what he would have to say.
At the base of his lava cast home, Pac came from the darkness into view wearing clothing different to his usual attire. As opposed to a deep blue hoodie, he wore a white button up and black pants that were much fancier than anything Fit was wearing.
His nervousness peaked at the thought of being underdressed, but it faded when Pac began the conversation. “So.., what did you want to do tonight?” Pac stated, coyly looking up at the taller man.
“Uhh, I was hoping that you could follow me for a second,” the words poured out of Fit’s mouth clumsily. Fit lead back up the outward of the lava cast, on the moss covered roof, until they reached the top. Flowing delicately in the wind was the rosebush that Pac had left him not too long ago.
“Is that-” Pac starts as he notices the flower, his expression visibly changing from curious to mischievous.
“No! Uhhh…” Fit quickly interjected before Pac could finish. “It’s..,” Fit cursed his brain for not being able to come up with an excuse. “Yeah… that’s the flowers you gave me”
He could feel his cheeks heating up.
Pac moved forward toward the roses and took one into his hands. Kneeling down, he took a large inhale as the smell of roses filled his lungs.
Once again, Fit was left speechless.
Pac turned to Fit, the moon in the night sky vaguely illuminating his bright and soft smile.
It was now or never. “I–,” Fit started, choking on his words.
“I like you, too,” Pac cut in, his face soft and his eyes full of affection.
Fit is stun-locked while blushing out of his mind. His heart feels like it’s going a mile a minute and his feet no longer feel stable. Before Fit could recover and respond, Pac, as if hearing what he just said for the first time, mimicked pulling a hoodie over his face, but there was nothing there. Then, in embarrassment, he brought his knees up and hid his face.
While regaining his senses, he laughed in endearment in how much Pac's current position reminded him of a curled-up potato bug. As Pac slowly unravels, his eyes lock on to Fit’s.
A few moments pass in silence before Fit finally gets the words out: “I like you.” He quickly averts his eyes and says it again, in case he didn't hear the first time, “I like you… so much.”
Fit looks back to find Pac smiling the most he had ever seen. Pac got back up and started slowly walking toward Fit, a glint in his eyes. Fit recognised this glint, he had seen it before many times. Oh. He thought. Pac had known for a while, hadn’t he.
Reciprocating Pac’s movement, Fit put his hands around the back of Pac’s neck, his hands woven into some of Pac’s hair. A small breath left his mouth as he whispered the words, “can I?”
Pac took this chance as an invitation he had been waiting for for months. He grabbed the Pac of Fit’s shirt and pulled him into a long, deep kiss. After a considerable amount of seconds, they broke apart, smiling.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Pac giggled and Fit would make sure he would not be making Pac wait anymore.
They sat on the ledge of the roof for hours, talking about whatever came to mind. Pac moved a hand to Fits knee as he used it as leverage to land a soft peck on his cheek. This rendered Fit utterly defenceless and unmoving. “Okay,” Pac joked, “I’ll lay of that… for now.”
As the conversations continued, the sun seemed to be done its slumber as it rose into the sky, painting it all colours of the morning. Fit looked at Pac, the sun once again enveloping his figure.
“You know…” Fit stared into Pac's eyes, “you look beautiful in the sun.”