Archive of Our Own ^beta

The door creaks open as Allan lumbers into the Smiling Friends™ break room. He looks at the thermostat and clicks his tongue: sixty-nine degrees. Then he rolls his eyes and bumps the temperature up by one. He’ll have to have a talk with Charlie about how, even though it’s just a slight bit humorous, he shouldn’t touch the damn thermostat. It’s October, it’s plenty cold in Pennsylvania.

Then he’s in motion.

Allan goes by his routine, silently reciting the steps like he were reciting his movements to justify his whereabouts to the police after, say, the victim was found with a sword in his stomach.

(Christ, the detectives still show up for questions. Irritating to think about.)

The first thing he starts is the coffee. Personally, he's more of a tea drinker but Charlie’s been trying to cut his Redbull intake and Pim can be a sort of a… grouch, on his more off days. He knows Charlie doesn't notice but when the pink critter is stressed, his nerve ending is more expressive (though how Allan even noticed that is a mystery itself). He uses a stirrer to smooth the grounds of the coffee in the measuring cup after putting in the filter and finally, he adds water to the machine. He presses the button and the coffee maker whirs to life. He waits for the steady pouring of the coffee before he finally starts looking through the cupboards.

Though his house is placed and decorated exactly as he likes, Allan can’t say the same for the breakroom. When it’s nearly time to leave, Glep will grab the trash bag and it’ll topple over as he lets the doors hit the wooden frame of the counter. Charlie will sweep but he never puts the broom back in the correct spot nor does he even put it in the same place. Pim will help wipe the counters but he always forgets to put the wipes back in the supply closet.

Not that Allan minds, but it’s just the things he’s noticed while working at the Smiling Friends™. Once everything is back in its spot, Allan proceeds to start cleaning the proper way.

It takes a good thirty minutes, give or take. It usually takes thirty-two but he ends up going for thirty-five minutes when he's noticed some dust caught under the fridge. After that's taken care of, he finally pours himself a cup.

Around that time, Pim walks in with his laptop bag, a pumpkin-themed sweater on.

“Good morning Allan!” He says with a bright and warm smile covering his face, “I hope you're having a happy Wednesday on this gorgeous day!”

“Morning.” Allan replies blankly as he stirs his coffee. “Where's your other half?”

He's noticed Charlie bumming rides off Pim more often these days but Pim will always offer when the yellow critter forgets to ask. Charlie's probably decided to take the pink critter up on the offer whenever it arises now; it’s more rare for Pim to show up by himself these days.

“Other– oh!” Then he laughs just a tiny bit, “You mean Charlie.”

“Yes.”

“I don't know actually.” Pim goes to the step stool and moves it to the sink, right next to the coffee maker. “He didn't text me to ask for a ride…”

“He’ll be late.” Not that it's true– though they don't really have a set schedule, Mr. Boss always makes sure his boys get a full eight hours of work, even if that work is lounging in the break room or trying to fix the T.V. again. Usually everyone simply comes in early so they don't have to stay past five.

“Well, he probably wouldn't care anyway.” Pim shrugs, idly making his coffee.

It's strange, Allan thinks, to know exactly how Pim likes his coffee before he makes it. Hell, he can practically taste it– sweet and creamy, the brown sugar getting dissolved in the piping hot coffee and then the chilled creamer being taken out of the fridge. A quick-chill for making a pleasantly warm cup. It's too sweet for Allan but it fits Pim perfectly.

Maybe I'm strange. Allan thinks (why the notice for such a small thing?) but that's ridiculous. He's the only normal guy there, after all.

“Checked with Mr. Boss yet?” Pim asks, sitting in the chair as he places the bag on the table.

“No.” A pause. “Not gonna wait for Charlie?” Allan asks.

“Something tells me last night is biting him in the behind.” Pim mumbles, a small smile on his face. “If he’s not late, he’ll definitely call in.”

Allan doesn't know why but he suddenly feels… irked. “Oh?” He simply says.

“Oh, he went to the bar.” Pim waves it off, “He sent several Snapchats to me while I was asleep–” Allan ignores the way he finds himself relaxing and the irritation subsiding, “–but he was at it till one in the morning. I don't know how he does it, honestly!”

Suddenly Pim is rambling on about Charlie and Allan mutes most of it while he turns his attention back to the paper clips he was about to sort.

To say Charlie and Pim are friends is a massive understatement– Pim was initially Charlie’s trainer for the job but they somehow clicked together once they went on an actual job together. Charlie seemed to be distant, only taking his eyes off the phone when he was needed but after dealing with the alpaca guy (their only job to last a week, thus far), they seemed to become instant friends.

Allan’s glad Charlie is there for the jobs but he– and he will deny this for as long as he lives– but he sort of misses the duo partnership he had with Pim shortly before Charlie was hired. Sure, he's worked at the Smiling Friends™ longer than Pim but Mr. Boss used to be a “hands on” sort of guy. Allan would simply stay back and file the papers exactly as he likes and Mr. Boss would always get the job done.

It changed once Jason was born though. He needed to be in his son's life but he still wanted to help people, so the most logical conclusion was to simply hire more help. Once he saw Pim's positivity, you could say it was a match made in Heaven– something Pim has mentioned before is how much he loves his job.

Allan would know that even if Pim never said a word; Pim thrives when he helps people smile, even at his own expense. He always seems to be down if there are no jobs for the day and he’s so... giddy for any client that comes in (the ‘adventure’ tagline, a common descriptor he uses). He claims it's his job but Allan would never offer himself as a doormat, no matter how much a customer begged.

Pim is just… Pim. And Allan knows Pim, so there's no need to keep beating a dead horse.

He's thankful Charlie is here to do the jobs he doesn't want anyway. Charlie is not without his charms though– calm, bored most of the time, and passive. However, he asserts himself above Pim and occasionally, he usually flees at the tougher jobs. He wants to be known as the solution without being the dirt that was stepped on to get there. Allan always gets irked at Charlie and his silly behavior but Allan knows he’s not without flaws of his own.

For one, Allan is impatient, an emotionless middleman who's simply there to offer a solution, a scale weighing out your options. He doesn't really care really, it's just a part of the job. He’s certainly not a “people person” but he's got the interactions down for as many scenarios as he can conjure up. He's also not afraid to bleed a little should a client ever tiptoe over his boundaries (and he has had to do it too).

It's probably why Mr. Boss also tries his best to keep him inside– a perfect filer and an antagonistic attitude towards anyone rude enough, why, surely Allan would savor the inside of an office. Allan respects Mr. Boss for recognizing that simple fact alone.

Regardless, he sets his coffee cup down and starts towards the door. “Okay, I'm gonna check the call logs.”

“Alrighty, let me know if you need anything!” Pim calls out as Allan speed walks out into the hallway.

The hallway that leads to Mr. Boss's office seems long in the way that Mr. Boss’s office seems to be a complete void. Allan doesn't think he's ever been in a corner in the office nor has he actually seen the wall (well, at least until Britney's "redirection") but he takes it as is. Not his room, not his problem.

He knocks on the door and with a faint ‘Come in~!’, Allan opens the door.

“Heya Allan!” Mr. Boss says, full of energy and spinning in his chair, “What's shakin’, bacon?”

“Did Charlie call in?”

Mr. Boss stops abruptly and crosses his arms, shaking his head, “He did! And what a day to do it ‘cuz I got a job that's gonna need two hands on deck.”

“Okay. I'm gonna–”

And just as Allan turns towards the door, Mr. Boss is suddenly behind him. Allan curses as he jumps back but Mr. Boss retains his smile, “You're gonna go with Pim today!”

A groan escapes Allan and he pinches the bridge of his nose, “God damn it. Can't Glep do it?”

“I've already got him on an errand for me, actually!” Then Mr. Boss starts escorting him back to the break room, “I'll tell you the details in here so you and Pim can get started!”

When they enter the room, Pim is already turned around in his seat, arm resting on the back with a grin on his face, “Oh, a job this early?” He says, so excited sounding.

“Yep!” Mr. Boss says. Allan just rubs his eyes as he makes his way back to the coffee and takes a sip while he talks. “Poor guy called about his cat going missing! Finding it would put a big ‘ole smile on his face so that's what you guys are gonna do!”

“Oh, I love cats!” Pim says before pausing, “Wait– Allan, you're with me today?”

“Unfortunately.” Allan says before continuing his baby sips on the coffee.

Pim just seems to brighten up more, “Oh, this is gonna be epic! A Pim and Allan adventure!”

“Let's just get this over with.” Then he pauses. “I need–”

Pim cuts him off. “Your allergy pills? We can stop by your place– or the store! I know how much you sneeze around animals so that should help.”

Allan shouldn't be surprised in the least bit that Pim remembers the very mild and frustrating sneezing he goes through when he's around animals but the surprise is still there. Hell, he'd probably even know the exact brand too, if Allan asked. There used to be more pet jobs back then.

Allan assumes the warm feeling in his stomach is simply the coffee and he sets it down. “We can stop by my place. I still have plenty at home.”

“Alrighty!” Pim shuts off his laptop and places it back into the carrying bag. Then he stows it away in a drawer by the door. “Time to make someone smile!”

Practically skip-running out, Pim excitedly leaves the break room in the blink of an eye while Allan simply watches. Mr. Boss just holds a thumbs up to Allan, “Good luck! Now get out there and make someone smile!”

—

The drive is a lot longer than Allan would like, if he's being honest. He doesn't mind driving but leaning over in the car isn't really good for his back. On the other hand, he trusts Pim to drive them safely but doesn't want him driving only because of his height. The constant looking over, to the side, behind at the rear window– Allan simply hates the unnecessary movement so he volunteers as the driver today.

“Do you mind?” Pim asks, holding the AUX cord in one hand and the other holding his phone. He seems brighter with his bright orange sweater on, different than his usual attire.

“Only if you play John Coltrane first.”

He laughs, “Oh, I bet you wanna listen to–” Pim connects the phone and quickly taps away on his phone. Then the sweet sound of jazz fills Allan's ears and he can't help but smile.

“You're good at that.”

“At what?” Pim asks, setting his phone in the cupholder.

“Picking songs. You always put the right sound on.” Allan says, glancing at Pim occasionally. “You’re good at it.”

“Oh, but you love jazz! Of course I know your favorite songs.”

Allan wonders why the heat of the coffee hasn't digested yet, why it seems to coagulate and sit in the deepest pit of his intestines. He doesn't feel any acidity so it can't be heartburn, he doesn't feel sick so he's in no danger of puking in the driver's seat. It just… sits. Like it's waiting…

Whatever. Allan will simply drink some water later.

“Hm.” Allan side-eyes Pim when he tries to raise his voice. Nothing comes out though and it gets quiet again as the sweet hum of the saxophone fills the car.

He's tempted to ask about it but figures that Pim must be thinking about the client. The job is simple: his cat is missing and he can't smile without his sweet baby. Personally, even despite the allergens, he could not own a pet. He's not really an animal person– he could have birds, technically, but the smell would probably kill him. Perhaps fish but he is not about to drop a grand because if he's going to get fish, he will get the best equipment for them no matter the cost.

It's tempting though…

Allan’s concentration is shifted when the name of the town pops into view and he sighs, “Thank God.”

“Aw, don't worry Allan!” Pim says enthusiastically, patting the center console because he knows Allan doesn't like to be touched when he's driving, “It's just a little kittycat, I'm sure it'll be over in a jiffy!”

Allan just stares at the road, eye twitching as the car in front of him drives two miles under the speed limit, “We will see about that.” He says.

“Well, we could always check the shelters first.” Pim says before humming. “I saw a couple on the way here.”

“No one takes cats to shelters.” Allan isn't sure why cats are so discriminated against but he has known jerks to intentionally swerve to hit cats should they appear. Another reason to be pet-less– far less tragedy to happen this way.

“Well, maybe someone took this one.” Pim says. “You're free to deal with the client while I go check, if you like.”

Allan scrunches his nose as a rural neighborhood shows itself off the busy main road. The numbers on the houses start to tick down to their client’s address. He doesn't say anything but he can feel Pim's eyes staring at him. Then he hears a click of the tongue.

“Gosh, here I was thinking you’d be a little more motivated than Charlie.”

Oh, that pink bastard. Allan’s hands tighten on the steering wheel as he side-eyes Pim again. He's staring through the windshield but a miniscule smile rests on his face, foot moving to the beat of jazz. To be ridiculed by store employees is one thing, but getting compared to Charlie of all people?

Little shit.

“I'll check the shelters.” Allan says, though it's unusual for him to let his mouth run before he thinks about it. The allergies, the loud creaking of metal grates and dogs barking– sensory overload, all of it. Yet Pim has somehow turned the tables and convinced Allan to be at least a slight bit motivated to go check these cacophonous buildings.

Pim beams, “Aw, you're so great Allan! Thanks again!”

Stupid coffee in his stomach, flipping it and shaking the acid around. Allan should've had a breakfast sandwich or something because now he's reminiscing on previous jobs with Pim (even ones taken against his will).

This, too, is similar to the old days, he thinks. Allan tries to find an easy way to get jobs done– quick, simple solutions that should work. But Pim is… determined, for lack of a better term. He's organized but willing to get his hands dirty; he's positive but still not a stranger to the harsh realities of life. Pim likes to check his options and take them all when he has to.

So Allan is going to the shelters to deal with dandruff-covered animals, consistent barking, and smelly buildings for the client but certainly not for Pim.

Stupid coffee (like heartburn in his stomach).

Allan parks in front of a small white house, the client’s home. Pim unbuckles his seatbelt and leaves the car at record speed while Allan checks all the windows, puts the visor up, adjusts the seat, then he shuts the car off.

Pim is already knocking at the door of the house.

As Allan trails after him, he takes a look around the neighborhood. It could be considered trashy, with many houses having overgrown dried weeds, cracked concrete driveways, some windows even patched with duct tape. Still nicer than Crimeville though, but perhaps it's the scene of the sky that helps with that. At nine in the morning, the sun is nearly overhead but the remnants of the previous night show with shades of purple that mix with the light. Pink clouds are scattered but quickly disappearing, the trees are vibrant with their oranges and browns.

Pim was right. Allan thinks, It is a beautiful day.

When Allan makes it next to Pim, the door finally opens.

Standing in front of them is a shorter critter, only slightly taller than Pim. He's got a more peach skin tone but his glasses are massive and Allan wonders if he can even see without them.

“Good morning, Eddie!” Pim says with a wave, “My name is Pim and this is Allan, we're the Smiling Friends and we're here to help you!”

The critter reminds Allan of an anteater and elephant smashed into one being. He's got a long nose (trunk?) but he holds his hands up limply, showing off his long nails to the duo. Allan immediately clocks him as a timid person, the way his hands shake slightly when he adjusts his glasses. He doesn't seem like an Eddie, more like a Frederick.

“S-Smiling Friends…?” He asks, almost unsure.

“That's us, sir!” Pim replies, “We're here to help you find your cat, I believe?”

The attitude shift happens immediately upon mention of the cat, “Really?! Y-You’ll help me find Fluffy? Promise?”

Before Pim can say anything else, Allan speaks up, “No. No promises–” Allan can feel Pim's sharp gaze digging into his side and he quickly adds “–but we'll do our best.”

“Oh, thank you!” The critter throws his arms around Pim and Allan steps back, eyes squinting at the critter. He's not a hugger, especially for strangers or clients.

“Of course sir!” Pim leans into the hug then pulls back, “Do you have any photos of her?”

Eddie quickly pats his pockets and, upon feeling his phone, yanks it out. He taps away then flips the phone and shoves it up to Allan, “Isn't she adorable?!” He asks.

The cat is… black. That's really all there is to it. The photo has Fluffy perched on the back of a chair (Allan struggles not to mention the mess in the background of the photo) with her ears perked. Her head is tilted and tail pointed up, a simple pink collar adorns her. The kink in the tail is… sort of cute, he thinks. Allan simply moves his hand and slowly pushes the phone down to Pim's eye level, making sure to just use his pinky. The less he touches, the better.

“Aw, so cute!” Pim exclaims, “Don't worry Eddie, we'll find her! Right Allan?”

Allan just rolls his eyes. Pim and his unending optimism really doesn't help the gurgling in his stomach, if he's being honest. There’s a certain sparkle in his squiggly eyes that Allan can’t help but notice as Pim claps his hands together, clearly ready with a simple solution in mind.

He can only give a simple response back. “Okay.”

Stupid coffee.

—

The duties are assigned: Pim will help Eddie search the streets with cat treats and Fluffy’s favorite toy and Allan has photos of the feline now. He plans on deleting them as soon as the job is over but he has a feeling Pim will get more enjoyment from the pictures. He knows Pim has a singular goldfish (also named Mr. Goldfish) but Allan doesn't think he's ever found out why it's just a single goldfish.

Hm. Allan puts a pin in the thought.

However, as the sun gets higher and Allan’s tolerance for bullshit starts to dwindle, he starts to resent Charlie for calling in.

The first shelter is tame: the building is well-maintained and the staff is nice but they don't even take cats so that's a bust. The second shelter is loud, dirty concrete floors and gated doors with a bare-minimum bed (A.K.A. a towel) in each cage. They have several cats but none of them belong to Eddie. The third pisses Allan off with its hostile staff and some guy insisting the cat in the photo is there now.

“It literally looks the same!” The staff member says, a fat neck beard with an ankle monitor tightly wrapped on his ankle, a picture of one of their rescues in hand, “Don't you want the cat?”

“Yes. I want this cat.” Allan says, pointing at the photo on his phone, “But you don't have it so I'm leaving.”

“You haven't even met her! You just saw the picture!”

“This cat–” Allan yoinks the picture from the man and points at the tail, “–does not have a crooked tail. You do not have Fluffy the Cat, stop trying to convince me–”

“I’m not– bro, you're fucking delusional–”

“Delusional?!”

Well, that's the start of the argument. Allan has already ended it and he sits in the car but the man is still outside, cursing him while he texts Pim the update. He simply puts his hand on the horn and starts holding it, causing the man to jump back. His asshole tolerance is a near-zero right now so he just stares at the phone, completely ignoring the neckbeard at his driver window.

There's another shelter but it's much farther away so Allan starts to brainstorm– Pim should have already looked around the cul-de-sac so maybe they've already asked some of Eddie’s neighbors. He hasn't gotten a text back yet to confirm it; Pim could be “locked in” or busy talking to the client. He’s still reliable for getting an answer back on the job though.

(Charlie says different, but Allan thinks he's full of shit anyway.)

He sneezes again, for the tenth time today, and he squints. The medication should be working but he can feel the itchiness already taking hold in his eyes. His nose tickles and God, he can feel the mucus in his nose getting dangerously close to escaping. Allan can't help but feel like the coffee has completely messed up his equilibrium.

Regardless, he hopes Pim is having an easier time than he is, with the neckbeard grabbing a chair and– oh, fuck.

—

Pim is not having a good time, if he's being honest. Not to say that Eddie is annoying or anything, goodness no! It’s just… well, Pim would describe him as sort of fickle. It’s definitely kinder than something Charlie would say, at least.

Eddie, for one, can’t seem to stop squirting hand sanitizer onto his hands, rubbing them quickly together as he jumps at every sound that makes itself known. He yelps at passing cars, jumps in fear at squirrels running from him, and he can’t even bring himself to knock on any neighbor’s door. The smell of the sanitizer, though usually tolerable, gives Pim a slight headache by the fifth block they make it to.

Pim sees this as an opportunity to make a new friend, tries his best to encourage Eddie that a simple ‘hello’ would do wonders, as long as you're kind about it. But the moment the footsteps of the owner shows itself, he’s cowering behind Pim or literally jumping into a bush. Pim barely keeps him from jumping onto a cactus at one point!

Of course, anxiety is a terrible thing! He knows some people have a hard time even leaving the house or calling people so he’s amazed Eddie even asked for help to begin with. He's always hunched over, hands fiddling with each other, looking around like a terrified animal.

The other thing with Eddie, he thinks, is that he's not that helpful for actually finding the cat either. He doesn't know much about, well, anything really! No treats in the house, a barely used cat bed and a small blanket, no toys– does he even know anything about Fluffy herself?

Not the time; instead Pim starts to think. Theoretically, cats are great hunters, even if they are domesticated. He remembers Amy owning a cat, a vicious cute thing that she would command to attack Pim's ankles and– well, it's a whole thing but even house cats have claws. Eddie says the cat wasn’t declawed (an awful thing to do anyway!) but he also says it's been ages since he's seen Fluffy– can cats survive that long? Pim recalls seeing a hawk on the way here…

They end up searching around, some treats purchased from a convenience store in hand, but even that is a daunting task– first, there are geese with a setup in some foliage nearby. They don't really enjoy the snooping so Pim and Eddie end up getting chased for… a while. Then some kids, with their silly antics and all, start trying to shoot the duo with BB guns. God, Pim doesn't even wanna think about the Rottweiler on 10th Street…

“I don’t know how you did it.” He mutters to himself, looking at the maps on his phone and trying to figure out where a cat would hide. His body aches but he's dead-set on finding this missing feline. They've searched the closest blocks and usually cats tend to stay in the area (...right?). There's a local park, a hiking trail that about ten minutes from where they’re at–

“What?”

It takes Pim a moment to register that it’s Eddie and he looks up. Eddie simply stares back, tilted head and a confused look in his eyes.

Did he say that aloud?

“Oh!” Pim quickly shakes his hands, “Oh, no– it’s just that– well, you’re just so nervous about meeting new people! I don’t know how you managed the courage to call the Smiling Friends! That was brave of you, really.”

His large ears sag a little as he glances down at his feet, “O-Oh, I… I didn't.”

“Huh?” Pim asks.

“I… I think it was my mom?” He brings a hand up, scratching the underside of his trunk, “I kept telling her about it and I guess she finally found someone to help...”

Oh. Well, that explains it.

“Oh! Well, I’m glad we’re here to help!” Pim looks down at his phone, scrolling through the messages: Allan simply responds with the address of the shelter and then a simple ‘No.’ so Pim assumes he hasn’t been lucky either though. “I’m sure Allan is working hard searching for her but until I get a text, we’ll just keep searching the neighborhood for Fluffy ourselves!”

Eddie looks a little dejected but he nods, “O-Okay, I’ll follow you Pin.”

Pim wants to correct Eddie but as he’s looking past Eddie, a jogger catching his attention for a second, he notices something. Sitting, sunbathing in a window in a nice two-story, sits Fluffy. Well, it has to be! It’s the same crooked tail, the same little collar in the photo, and Pim is certain he’s already questioned the man that owns the home but…

He points at the window, “Um, isn’t… that Fluffy?” He asks, just to be sure.

Eddie turns his head, stares, then starts for the window.

“FLUFFY!”

“Eddie!”

It’s another fickle thing about Eddie, Pim finds out. If there’s even a chance it’s Fluffy, he’ll run straight at a cat. He’s done it three times to three different strays in just the time they’ve been together! Pim just grabs his arm, nearly getting pulled as he digs his heels into the dying grass.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Pim pleads. Luckily Eddie listens and he stops, looking back. Pim continues, “I’m sure he didn't realize we were talking about that cat! He must have found her and simply kept her so if we ask–”

Eddie makes a sad little groaning noise and Pim can’t help but feel bad. He slowly lets go of the other critter’s hand and Pim taps under his chin. He showed the man a photo but perhaps he didn’t connect the dots? He remembers Eddie saying she’s been gone for weeks so maybe this is where she’s been? He said he never got her microchipped and that she’s a real friendly cat…

Pim just crosses his arms, determination in him rising. “You can stay here Eddie, I’ll go talk to the owner of this lovely home and I’m sure he’ll understand!”

Ha! If only every job were that easy.

All of their work has led to right now– the two of them sitting on the curb of the sidewalk, thoroughly defeated. Pim did try to talk to the man but he simply kept slamming the door in his face. It’s one thing to simply be ignored but the fact that he opens the door just to slam it again feels a little disheartening. His hands rest under his chin, propped up by his knees, and he sighs.

Gosh, he wish Allan were here. He could use some stern-ness right now.

“Say, Eddie,” Pim starts, “Do you have any proof of ownership? We could call the cops and–”

Eddie answers immediately, “No! No, no cops!” He shakes his head quickly, waving his hands, “Too scary… and I don't want to bother them. And I found Fluffy on the street but she's always been an indoor cat since so…”

Pim sighs again. “You haven't even taken her for shots at the vet?”

“Why would I? She's perfectly healthy!”

Pim pinches the bridge of his nose. Surely it's common sense to know that vaccinations are important for pets! He refrains from lecturing Eddie as he glances down at his phone, going through his messages. Charlie’s sent almost too many videos for someone that should have a hangover and Allan– oh! He needs to tell Allan!

He quickly types out a message.

‘Fluffy has been found but some guy has her in his home :( ‘

He sends it and waits. He can already see Allan hearing his phone and immediately pulling over to an abandoned parking lot or even the side of the road. He knows this because the message is nearly immediate from him.

‘Demand her back.’

‘I can't! He won't listen to me’ Pim replies.

‘Demand her back.’ A pause and then a gun emoji gets sent to him along with a message. ‘For Frederick to smile.’

Pim, though usually finding Allan's typing quirks amusing at the best of times, feels a little beat down and simply puts his phone away. Well, at least Allan is more motivated than Charlie usually is. Not that Pim is complaining, of course! It's just that the two have different methods for jobs like these.

Pim imagines Charlie would simply tell Eddie that his cat was probably run over but he could get another cat instead. In this situation, he would simply suggest a rescue center. He imagines them traveling to different shelters, no cat quite catching Eddie's eye. They'd probably spend the whole day doing that just for Eddie to decide he wants a dog or something.

He's glad he has Allan for this job though. At least with Allan, he's focused on the job and only the job– he keeps his phone shelved as long as he's with a client, has solutions on hand when Pim asks him his opinion, and (to Allan's credit) he's even smiled a couple times today! Pim enjoys that even more, he thinks.

Gyah. Not the time, Pim. He rubs his eyes and stands up again. Eddie just looks at him when he does.

“Alright, I'm going to try a different approach. Wait here.” Pim says. He doesn't really wait for Eddie's response as he turns and starts back to the house.

Fluffy is perched on the window sill, sunbathing as she naps quietly. Though very cute, Pim is determined to get this cat back! He marches up to the door and knocks loudly.

The man opens it nearly immediately and Pim yelps in surprise.

“What.” He says, voice deep and scratchy. He's an intimidating man, that's for sure– he's got a variety of tattoos trailing up both his forearms, there's muscle and veins very visible on his shoulders and neck, and the eye bags under his eyes give him an effective death stare.

“Alright sir–” Pim braces himself and quickly puts his hand on the door before it gets slammed again. The man seems to growl out in anger as Pim continues, “I understand you don't want to give up the cat but–”

“It's my fucking cat.” He snaps, suddenly opening the door wide. Pim stumbles forward and catches himself but as he does, the man swings the door back toward him and– well, Pim has been hit in the face before but a door is definitely new. He yells out a yelp of pain, hands covering his eyes as he tries to help the irritation he feels now.

Well, that didn't go according to plan. He finishes rubbing his eyes, blinks a couple times (blurry but… gosh, he needs to make that appointment) then he sighs. Rinse and repeat but not really by choice, if he's honest.

Pim clasps his hands together, a makeshift gun formed from his hands, and he places them under his chin. Think Pim, think! This man won't even talk to Pim, let alone keep the door open for more than a second. Can he ask Allan? Ugh, no! Allan trusted him to be able to do this and by all accounts, he should! It's just some guy holding a cat hostage.

Then a memory surfaces and he sighs to himself. On the last Allan-Pim adventure, he remembers running into the break room to see Charlie's nose ripped off (a traumatic experience, no doubt). He's even more shocked at the apparent ‘client’ that actually kills the C.E.O. of Insane Groundbreaking Games, who Charlie says was the one that injured him in the first place.

Pim can only imagine what would happen to him if he kept nagging this particular man. He's not necessarily afraid of him because of his looks but of what those muscles could do to Pim. He recalls that if he squints, Charlie's nose scar is still just barely visible.

Groaning, Pim's eyes shut as he tries to think of different alternatives. He could call the police but with no proof of ownership, it's all he-said, she-said being tossed around. And, if this rude man is smart, he will have already had the cat chipped– ah, Pim is just going in circles! He can't think of anything in the least bit!

Then he hears a car slow to a stop in front.

Pim opens his eyes and he's never been more happy to see the color red. “Allan!” Pim says, relief clear in his voice as he runs to the passenger side, standing on the tips of his toes to peer over the window. Allan simply puts the car into park and gets out, going around to Pim. His eyes are… puffy and red, his hands holding a tissue box.

“Oh gosh, are... are you alright?” Pim asks.

“Allergies.” Allan snatches a tissue from the box and blows his nose. Then he scrunches it up and looks around, presumably for a trashcan.

“Anyway, I'm so glad you're here! I've tried all I can but this… this cruel man won't give us Fluffy!”

“What about the cops?” Allan says. He stares down at Pim, eyes squinting at him. Pim only sighs in response while Eddie just sheepishly stands behind him.

“Eddie doesn't want to call them.”

“Okay.” Allan pulls out his phone, “I will then. He smells, by the way.”

“Wait, wait!” Pim reaches up but Allan just holds his hand higher, “Can… Can you try talking to him? I've really tried but he just keeps slamming the door and–”

“Is that why you have a nosebleed?”

“What?”

Pim's hand reaches up slowly and– oh, that is wet. He looks at his hands and sighs for the millionth time, taking a tissue from Allan, “I hadn't even realized…”

There are several things Allan would use to describe Pim: positive, kind, task-focused, determined. But he's also a pushover, naïve occasionally, and he puts others' needs above his own. For this situation, he'd describe Pim as ‘hopelessly stupid’– (or so he should).

The bubbling in his stomach starts to nip at his stomach, irritation rising in his chest as Pim pats his face clean. Pim is a grown man and he can handle himself but Allan can't help but feel irked at the lack of disrespect he holds for himself. For the lack of disrespect in general. So he hands the tissue box to Pim and walks to the door.

Besides, he's sick of dealing with this cat and the stupid allergies.

Allan knocks loudly on the door, four taps spaced apart evenly. The door opens and the man scoffs.

“The fuck do you want?” He says, spite in his voice.

“Do you have this cat?” Allan asks and he places his foot forward as the man tries to swing the door again. It's a loud slam! and as it happens, Fluffy jumps up suddenly. It must be the noise that startles her, the way Allan can see her running around in the background before suddenly rushing outside.

“Feta, no!” The man yells and he suddenly pushes Allan aside. Allan is quick to shove him back, acting on instinct now.

“Hey, asshole!”

The guy snaps his head around, looking back at Allan, “I'm the asshole?! You stupid motherfuckers are trying to–”

“You're literally acting like an asshole! Who slams a door like–”

“–steal my fucking cat! Fuck that long-nose idiot and his pussy-ass behavior–”

It's a yelling match between Allan and the man now and Pim is already at Allan's side, trying to pull him away, “Allan, Allan, Allan!” Pim says quickly, hands holding his friends’, “It's fine, lets just–”

Then he hears children giggling.

The BB guns.

It all happens so fast but Pim wonders if he's just slowing down– the three kids that terrorized him and Eddie are rollerblading down the street and their eyes lock with Pim's. He acts immediately– he quickly rushes to the Smiling Friends car, screaming out a quick “Run!” and jumps in, calling for Eddie as he does so.

Eddie runs fast, jumping into the backseat and Pim jumps into the passenger seat. Adrenaline still high, Pim locks the doors and he turns to look back to check on Eddie. He opens his mouth and– oh!

“You have Fluffy!”

In the backseat, purring loudly in his arms, Fluffy rests in Eddie's lap. Scratching her back, Eddie just stares back at Pim, smiling brightly at him.

Just as Pim is about to congratulate Eddie, he yelps when pellets start hitting the window. He grabs the floor mat, trying to ignore the… stickiness of it, and places it on his head. He's probably bruised enough on his back, he'd hate to get a headache from this too. He will need a shower though…

Pim glances out the window and he sees the three children suddenly shift their interest onto Allan and the man. Perhaps they saw they couldn't hurt Pim so now they're targeting–

“Allan!” Pim yells, “Come on, come here!”

It's when he notices what Allan is doing. Standing behind Mr. Rude, one hand on the back of his neck and the other grabbing his arm, Allan hides behind from the assault the kids deliver. The man screams in pain but Allan is stronger than he looks– he holds on tight and starts a mental count in his head. Children's attention span can only last so long.

His head is tucked down, seeking shield as the kids laugh and holler while the man screams out. Some people even come outside to watch. The counter in Allan's head finally comes to a zero and he pushes the man away. Then he sprints to the car, ignoring the screams of the kids at the sudden movement. 

He jumps over the hood and gets into the driver's seat. In record time, Allan manages to start the car, check his surroundings, and he's suddenly driving off, leaving pellets in the dust and some old prick screaming on the ground.

All in all, probably one of the worst jobs he's dealt with but also relatively easy. Four out of ten, he decides.

Once they get their signature from Eddie, he's dropped off at the convenience store and the duo watch as he skips down the sidewalk.

Allan and Pim take a moment to sit in the car, hidden behind some abandoned buildings, and check out the battle scars they've each received. Allan reaches into the glove box and pulls out the little first aid kit that's stored inside. 

Allan has got some bruises from pellets that have hit him in the leg and arm but he's really not as mangled as Pim seems to be. Pim now adorns a dirty white button-up, tears at the ends that match the tears in his shorts. There's red marks on Pim's leg with dried blood and a couple bruises blooming near his shoulder. Allan suspects his back has probably received the worst of it.

The whole time he's treating Pim in the backseat, there's a disgusted scowl just… covering his face. Pim feels like he did something wrong– should he have gone to the vet to cover it first? Perhaps Pim would mention he'd noticed the windshield of the car was cracked. Getting chased by armed children was a good distraction from it.

Pim clears his throat and Allan pauses, finishing the wrap on Pim's legs. The wounds are a little too deep for a band-aid (in Allan's eyes) so wrapping it seemed to be the best course. He lets Pim take his time in speaking up.

“So,” Pim starts, pausing for a sec as he hesitates on his words, “Um… good job today! I really appreciate it, Allan.”

Allan squints his eyes and ties the wrap off tight, causing Pim to flinch. He doesn't say anything though, the frown on his face relaxing slowly. Pim continues.

“I know it's been a rough day but… I really appreciate you being here. I don't think I would've been able to do this by myself…” He trails off as he looks down at the floor mat, now seated in his lap instead of being used as a helmet.

Allan starts to put the first kit away, quickly arranging the items the correct way. It gets quiet and Allan, for once, struggles on what to say. On one hand, Pim can handle himself for the most part. He's done several solo jobs before, he might be naïve at times (that unending optimism, that million dollar smile) but he can do it. On the other hand, Allan feels irritated as shit. (Because Pim got hurt? Because Allan wasn't reliable enough for Pim to even message?)

The car is quiet as they sit in the unused parking lot, surely overflow for the strip-slash-dance club that's located across the street. The bubbling starts to turn to boiling when he keeps reflecting on it. 

Not once in the time they spent apart did Pim make Allan aware of what he's been through. It makes him feel useless, in a way, to know Pim put up with so much physical abuse by himself. Surely he knows not to get near dogs (they always mistake him for a chew toy), surely he knows to call the police for children that are literally terrorizing the neighborhood (children are not exempt from the law). Yet, here he is: battered, bruised, cut while Allan slaps a band-aid on his own scrapes and calls it a day.

Surely the coffee must have digested by now. Why is he so irritated?

“Allan.” Pim's voice knocks Allan out of his thoughts and he looks at him. Pim is meekly fiddling with his fingers but he still speaks strongly, “Mind if I treat you to some Sweetie’s?”

Allan is reminded of the turtle-cheesecake deluxe sundae that's popular at Sweetie's, his favorite after rough days like these. The more common order, however, is a classic root beer float. A small treat to pick them up when they used to work together. The irritation starts to shift but Allan can't figure out what the feeling is turning to.

He closes the first aid kit, finished with the organizing. “Okay.”

—

It's nearly five and, theoretically, they should be heading back to the office. They need to drop off the paperwork, submit some workers’ compensation documents so Pim can get a rabies shot. They'll clean when they get there, tidying up the break room so they can finally close up shop and finally, they’ll leave to go home.

Instead, Allan and Pim rest in Sweetie’s parking lot. It's a creamery, an old-fashioned themed parlor that still has rollerblading waitresses taking orders and malts made the ‘original’ way. They sit in the front now, windows rolled down, Allan’s feet are propped up on the dashboard on the passenger's side, both of them with the seat leaning back.

It's an old routine, something they used to do together every Friday or Stress Day (a special kind of day where the client is… difficult). Allan mindlessly scoops ice cream with the tiny spoon he's provided while he listens to Pim rant on.

“–know I should have told you but– I just…” Pim fumbles on his words, a root-beer float in his hands. “I mean, I am an adult! Well, I s'pose the, er, kids and the geese was sort of unexpected. I'm... not sure how I would've handle those things in any other situation- Anyway! I guess I'm just, I'm used to doing it by myself more often now.”

“Because Charlie is lazy.” Allan says bluntly.

Pim quickly waves his hand, “No! I mean, he's not lazy – it’s, he's… not motivated. He's… he's like a pacifist, kind of?” He sets the float in the cup holder, hands now free to help articulate Pim's words, “It's just he's negative about helping some people. Like– like Shrimp! I get he wanted to get Shrimp to move on but, I dunno, wasn't it worth it to try and see if Shrimpina was open to trying again?”

“Jennifer.”

“What?”

Allan points the spoon at him, “Her name was Jennifer. You didn't even meet Shrimpina.”

Again, Pim seems to deflate as he bashfully rubs the back of his head, cheeks heating up, “I still feel so stupid about that…”

Allan thinks Pim should feel stupid, if he's honest. Any sane person would usually ask for a name first, usually try to figure out if the person they're looking for is actually right here. He also feels like maybe Pim shouldn't beat himself up too much over it. It seemed to work out in the end anyway, with Jennifer and Shrimp making out and living happily ever after (Charlie's words).

“Well, don't.” Allan decides on these words instead. “It's already over with. The job is done and you never have to think about them again. They probably don't even remember you anyway.”

“That feels worse…”

“It's not.” Allan points the spoon at Pim again. “You are just a pushover. You care too much.”

“I know.” Pim sighs, “We've been over this.”

“Yes, we have.” It's one of the first gripes Allan brings up to Pim after a few jobs working together. He remembers having to step in, demand a client listen or assert himself as the middleman. He remembers speaking up when Pim can't bring himself to and it culminates one night, in this same parking lot. Unlike other employees that have come and go throughout the years, Pim takes Allan’s advice.

He's better now, but he's still a little... malleable. The makings of a spine in place.

“You shouldn't kill yourself for this job.” Allan suddenly says.

Pim looks like he wants to object but he stutters. Then he rubs the back of his neck and sighs. “I… I wasn't trying to.”

“I know.” Allan doesn't think he gets it though, so he decides to hurt him instead. “If you had died, I don't think I could handle it.”

The chill in the air, along with the cool autumn breeze, is sharp, pine needles on open skin. It cuts through as Allan sees Pim freeze up through his sweater. However, Allan leads forward and rests his hand on Pim’s arm. It’s steady, firm.

Allan means it– Pim brings a sort of positivity to the office that no other person can bring (except for Mr. Boss but he's just strangely good at that, Allan thinks). Pim is reliable, he's firm in his beliefs to think about what's best for the client, he's flexible when it comes to dealing with more troublesome people.

Allan thinks the Smiling Friends™ would never be the same if Pim were gone. He shines so bright in his admiration to help that it even helps Allan some days too. Ugh. Now the ice cream is making his stomach feel weird. Maybe no diary, in general?

He caps the now empty container the sundae came with and sets it to the side, right next to Pim's float. As he does, Pim speaks again, “I'm really sorry Allan. I guess I just didn't realize…”

“It's okay.” Finally, reassurance. “I forgive you.”

With Pim, Allan learns he needs to hear the affirmation. Pim needs to know if he's still cared for or if Allan is sick of him– if he can't get that, he starts to spiral almost. He becomes terribly anxious, fear flooding him at the thought of losing a friend. Allan keeps telling Pim to get checked out by a psychiatrist, surely this must be a disorder of some kind (the same way Allan counts and counts and counts the paperclips at work some days and Pim will file for him). But that's before- nowadays he uses methods from his time in college, the perks of trying to be a social worker.

Not that it matters. If Pim values his privacy, then it's none of his business. Allan is simply there as sort of... support beam. So Allan reassures him; Pim leans his head against the driver’s seat in response, “You sure?” He would almost be too quiet, had Allan not turned off the car before this.

“Yes. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it.”

Pim smiles.

This is another thing, Allan thinks, that he misses from the early days. There's a sudden longing to touch Pim now, perhaps a good handshake or… more. Allan hates to be touched, hates dealing with difficult strangers, yet here he sits, his hand already drifting to Pim's face. He rests it on his cheek and, like clockwork (like familiarity), Pim leans into his touch.

He doesn't hate Pim.

His stomach violently yearns. Perhaps the ice cream is seeking revenge, making his heart louder than it's been before. He can hear the thumping and wonders why it's always at the most mundane of times that he feels this. He notices it happens the most around Pim but there have been others. An old, old relationship back in grad school, a fling or one-night stand that waits on the bench in his mind. A yearning but for something deeper than he can describe. Perhaps his diet doesn't need to be altered for now.

It's strongest around Pim though, usually is. Allan’s thumb gently brushes his cheek and Pim smiles. He hums mindlessly, eyes closed as he slowly reaches his own hand up to touch Allan's. This, too, is like earlier jobs, these small moments.

Maybe Allan missed this too.

Then his nose is suddenly itchy and he snatches his hand away. Pim startles, eyes shooting open and hands resting in his lap quickly again. As Allan grabs a tissue to blow his nose, he takes note of the way Pim's face heats up, his eyes darting around to look at anything besides him.

As if on cue, a car horn sounds and Pim jumps in his seat again while Allan looks around too. There's no incident in the parking lot and the cars on the street inch slowly at the stoplight, which is green now.

Allan sits up, grabbing the empty sundae container, “Are you done?” He asks.

Pim stares at him, like a deer in front of headlights. “Wha…?”

“Your float.”

“O...Oh!” Pim laughs nervously and he quickly hands the float over, “Th-thanks, Allan…”

“You’re welcome.”

He throws the containers away and takes a brief moment to look at the sky. Clear, almost nothing except for a couple airplanes passing by. It’s quiet too. He starts back towards the car and he sees Pim opening the door, jumping into the passenger seat. It’s not as quiet as it could be, with his chest thumping up a storm now.

Shouldn't have had that ice cream.

—

The floor in the breakroom get swept by Allan today, who refuses to do it until all other duties are done so no one walks on the floor afterwards. So Pim gets the wipes from the supply closet, Glep gets the trash-bags, and Allan pours the leftover coffee down the drain. The coffee machine is cleaned, the floors are thoroughly swept now. The lights are turned off.

Outside, there's a harsh breeze that kicks up every few seconds to slam against the door and Allan simply adjusts his tie. The other two are inside, biding their time before facing the cold.

“How aren’t you cold?” Pim asks. Even Glep has a little scarf and mittens.

“It’s fine.” He says. “Okay, I’m gonna leave now.”

“Oh, I’ll see you out then!” Pim says suddenly and he waves back at Glep, “See ya tomorrow!”

“Aweiuwacvb!” Glep says, holding up the scarf. Allan simply rolls his eyes and leaves the safety of the lobby. It’s fine weather, Jesus Christ.

Allan only squints his eyes at Pim when he hears a little snicker of a laugh.

Outside, it’s already dark, save for some pink far off in the distance. The sky is clear by now some clouds are starting to popcorn up, like cotton that's fluffed and spread about. The cold wind somehow paints the image clearer in Allan’s mind, like a snapshot saved in his brain.

He looks down at Pim, who’s simply smiling with his keys in hand.

“Okay, Allan! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Allan can see a band-aid peeking out from under Pim’s sweater so he points at him, “Make sure to change the bandages in the morning.”

Pim blinks then quickly reaches a hand up to grab the edge, “O-Oh, sorry!” A nervous laugh, his eyes looking off to the side. “Right, right. I’ll…” He clears his throat. He doesn't say anything at first; in fact, it almost seems like he's about to apologize until he sighs. Allan assumes that's the end and is about to turn when Pim speaks up again.

“Allan, can I… tell you something?”

Allan looks at Pim. He’s motioning for him to lean down. Allan kneels down instead, trying not to further stretch his back (he's due for another appointment with Dr. Monster anyway). Pim doesn't say anything.

Instead, Allan is surprised with a kiss on his cheek.

They discuss romance once, Allan recalls. Pim wants a wife, wants a family– but he also believes in destiny. He doesn't actively try to find romance, he hopes he meets her on the job. He hopes they accidentally touch hands at the buffet, perhaps even a waitress that leaves her number on the receipt. A drunk confession slips that he could even love a man, as long as it’s true love.

Allan wonders if Pim thinks this is destiny too, and not the result of a decade old friendship.

Allan isn't a romantic. He's blunt, straight to the point– he’ll cuddle at night but forget to hold your hand on the way to work. Allan remembers your birthday but doesn't much care for anniversaries, especially monthly ones. He hates being touched and he's obsessive over minute things. He thinks destiny is a myth; most people are just lucky. It's best way anyone can describe life really.

Pim knows everyone's birthdays and then some– he'll bring cookies on your aunt's birthday and then hand over a card for your sister in the breath. He's physical and touchy, always placing a peppy pat on the back. Pim keeps his apartment neat but he's not above the occasional sock on the floor. He loves the idea of destiny (and surely, this moment must be that).

Allan wasn't even aware romance was on the table. He never really knows unless explicitly stated anyway, though Allan isn't sure why Pim does this now though.

He suddenly pulls away and quickly runs towards his car, “O-Okay Allan bye seeyatomorrow !” He speaks fast, squishing his words together in a hurry. The red critter doesn't miss the way Pim's face is a bright maroon color now.

Pim fumbles his keys outside his car, desperately sticking the key into the lock and opening the door. He jumps in and shuts the door, panting. As he tries to steady his breathing, Pim groans out. “Why did I do that!”

His head hits against the seat and he slides down into the seat. His hands cover his face but the embarrassment is ripe, fresh in his mind. He's never even brought these feelings to him and yet, here Pim is with the nerve to do such a thing!

Allan must think he's… gross, despicable even. He's overstepped a boundary and now, Allan will hate him for the rest of his life! Pim groans again; why?

Was it because he felt brave today? Because he was so excited to hang out with Allan, who hates dealing with people? Because Allan is so confident and Pim wishes he could at least mimic that? Because he thinks of Allan so much and-

He needs to leave now.

Pim’s fingers struggle to work, losing grip of the keys and dropping them every few seconds. There's dread deep inside him, afraid of the incoming looks he'll get tomorrow. The scowl he makes when something stupid is said on the T.V., when Charlie plays some old comedy only he finds funny, it'll be reserved for Pim now too.

Fudge! Pim yells in his head. He finds the right key at long last and quickly turns on the car. Cold air blows in his face almost immediately and he turns the heat on just as fast. It's like reality telling him what he already knows is coming– frigid cold, no one around to even get a blanket from. All he can do is sigh in defeat.

He tries to find that feeling, that sliver of bravery he just had moments ago. 

Then he yells out an eep! when four taps are heard suddenly. He looks at his window and horror overcomes him when he sees Allan, standing by the driver's door and waiting for him.

Pim quickly rolls down the window, “Allan!” He exclaims, face heating up again. Now? Of all places?!

“Pim.” Allan says simply.

“A-About earlier–” He can't help fumbling over his words, dread creeping up his spine. “Listen, it was– well, I-I just, I got caught up in the moment and–”

“You've never mentioned you found me attractive before.”

Pim can't help but cover his face in shame, “I… I didn't expect to either, to be honest...”

Allan remembers having a ‘no co-workers' rule when it came to dating, back when he was just starting school. It came about when he watched someone throw hot coffee at the new cashier, a slimy man with little respect for anyone. Allan has never remembered his name but he remembers the smell and the look of burned flesh. It's not pleasant.

But that was then, when he used to be surrounded by fellow teens, hormonal emotional outbursts ready to pop at the smallest inconvenience. Now, he's surrounded by adults– some more stupid than others but there's significantly less drama. He's too old for that sort of thing anyway.

Pim is an adult. Allan is an adult. They can be affront about this.

“Are you interested?” Allan asks.

Pim looks up, looking absolutely stunned. “...are you?”

He recalls the disturbance in his stomach that plagues him when he's around Pim. He's had a few relationships before but they’ve all fizzled out. This feels different– there's certainty present here, an effort to be made (to understand, perhaps).

“Let me return the favor.” A try at flirting. It sounds foreign when it comes from Allan and it feels disingenuous for what he intends to do. With the way Pim reacted, Allan wonders if he's used the wrong tone of voice, read the situation incorrectly, and has just made Pim uncomfortable.

( This , he remembers. He still doesn't remember anything about what Charlie's mentioned before.)

Pim's eyes widen and he quickly stands in the seat, leaning out of the window now. “Are… are you sure?” Pim asks, hope clear in his voice.

Allan doesn't say anything. Instead, he simply leans down towards Pim.

It’s cold, a frigid night in October. It's dark out now, the last of the sun getting covered by buildings and trees. A wind passes by and it should freeze Pim to bone, should ignore the sweater and fill him with a chill. Instead, he's warm, blazing heat in his face; in his chest; on his lips. He might explode.

It’s unexpected, terrifying to Pim– he looks to the future with a smile but he doesn't know how to traverse something like this . Even his earliest flings are from college– to mess this up after living with loneliness for so long, to hurt someone he loves because he's not enough, it would simply devastate him.

It feels too short when Allan pulls away first.

“Okay.” He says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” A pause. “I will message you later.”

He’s gone before Pim can say anything else.

At night, perhaps nine or so, he states at the ceiling. His phone rests on his chest but he keeps himself in place. He won’t message Allan, won’t barrage him with loved-filled declarations– he has to go slow and wait. He can practice restraint this one time.

That goes out the window when Pim’s phone pings and he immediately checks his messages. Apprehension fills him and then dread takes over when he sees it’s from Allan. Pim taps it and sets the phone screen down for a second. Just get it over with. He thinks, and then he squints his eyes to read what's been sent.

He starts cheering and jumping around his room when the image loads to show a screenshot. In Pim’s contact slot, Allan has changed his name to read ‘PIM PIMLING (BOYFRIEND)’.