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threads

Summary:

Basil keeps pulling on loose threads. It’s never on purpose. It’s a force of habit.

Sunny is disappointed in him. Basil wants to say he’s used to it.

Notes:

found this again and i never posted it for some reason so here it is. this was for day 5 of Whumptober 2023, but i used the alt prompt: Panic.

enjoy <3

Work Text:

“Look this way.”

 

Basil lifted his head toward Sunny instantly at the sound of his command. Sunny sifted through the racks of clothing before selecting one out of the dozens and holding it up against Basil’s front. His impassive expression shifted into a small frown. Sunny frowned a lot. Basil always felt it was somehow his fault.

 

“These shirts are too big for you,” Sunny stated, shelving the shirt back with its duplicates. He wandered off a bit farther, still looking through the various clothings around them. Basil followed close behind him. He didn’t want to get left behind.

 

Sunny stopped at another rack of clothing, now beginning to look through that one too. He took his time with it, methodically observing each and every shirt that hung there. Basil squirmed in his spot, beginning to fidget with the hem of his too-big shirt. It wasn’t his own shirt. It was Sunny’s. His own shirts were too big on him too, but they were becoming worn out from him picking at the threads too much. He couldn’t help it, it was a habit.

 

There was nothing wrong with them, technically, he could still wear them. Sunny didn’t want him to though, insisting that he wear some of Sunny’s clothes while they catch up on errands today. Basil didn’t know why. He’d just mess up these clothes too.

 

Sunny turned around, a significantly smaller shirt he now held up in front of Basil. The blond stiffened as Sunny examined the hypothetical look, before nodding in satisfaction and tucking the sweater away into the shopping basket hanging from his elbow. He moved on, now checking the next rack over.

 

It was a rinse and repeat process. Sunny would look through a rack, pick something for Basil, and move on to the next. Sunny would always choose. Basil didn’t. Basil wasn’t sure what he liked anymore. And Basil would be fine with this process if there weren’t so many people around. Because there were so many people. Every direction he looked, there would be someone also browsing through. Occasionally, one or more would pass by them. Basil didn’t like it, that he was sure of.

 

He wanted to go home.

 

“You’re uncomfortable,” Sunny observed. He glanced back at a startled Basil. “Why?”

 

“U-Uhm,” Basil darted his eyes away. He didn’t like eye-contact. It made him nervous. Especially Sunny’s eyes. He loved those eyes, but in a way that made him feel frozen—paralyzed. 

 

His hand found its way back to the hem of his shirt—the shirt that was too big on him, the shirt that was Sunny’s—to pick at the cloth. Sunny stopped him before he could, however, intertwining their fingers. His hands were cold, Basil noted. His hands were always cold, but Basil found comfort in them. He had to, else he’d get no comfort at all.

 

“Why?” Sunny asked again in that same empty tone. It was neither mean nor kind. It was just void. Basil wanted to believe he preferred it that way.

 

“I-I…” Basil glanced up at Sunny’s empty eyes. He found love in there. Somewhere in there. “I-I don’t wanna be here anymore…”

 

Sunny cocked his head to the side.

 

“S-Sunny, there’s too many p-people here… I…” Basil squeezed his hand, “I don’t l-like it.”

 

Sunny stared at him a while longer, as if expecting him to say more. Basil didn’t. He kept quiet, kept his head lowered, and held Sunny’s limp hand in his own. He heard Sunny breathe a soft sigh through his nose, followed by the clinking sound of metal hangers bumping into each other. Basil looked up. Sunny had continued browsing again.

 

“S-Sunny…?” Basil took a small step closer to him. Just a small one. Not too close. Not because he was scared or anything—Basil would never be scared of Sunny—it was just… he didn’t want to seem like a bother.

 

“I’m not done here yet,” Sunny said simply, grabbing another shirt—a small shirt—and holding it in front of Basil, like he did all the others. After a moment of thought, he placed that one in the basket as well.

 

“I-I know.” It felt like it’s been too long, though. It felt like they’ve been here for an eternity. “B-But,” Basil tried prodding, “I-I think we’ve got e-enough things, right?”

 

Sunny didn’t look at him as he replied, “We wouldn’t have to be here if you hadn’t ruined your clothes.”

 

Basil bit his lip at the accusation—not too hard to break skin, of course. Sunny didn’t like it when his lips would get bloody. It was ugly, he would say, unpleasant. Basil didn’t want to be that.

 

He didn’t mean to ruin his clothes. It was a habit. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t control it. It was an impulse he couldn’t describe. An urge to ruin, to destroy—to believe that was all he was good for. He didn’t mean to do it. He couldn’t help himself. He could still wear his clothes fine. It was fine, he didn’t mind, truly. He didn’t need new clothes.

 

Sunny wouldn’t agree.

 

“I’m sorry,” Basil said instead.

 

Sunny’s hand stilled and he sighed. It was subtle. Unnoticeable. Hidden. But Basil sensed it all the same. “I know you are.” A beat of silence passed by them. Sunny seemed to be thinking something over. Maybe. Probably. Basil wasn’t sure. Basil couldn’t read Sunny very well—not anymore. “Okay,” Sunny breathed, finally turning back to look at the blond, “we’ll leave.”

 

Basil sighed in relief, it was a small exhale of air, but it felt like a pound of rocks off his shoulders. He nodded at Sunny, a timid yet grateful smile tugging at his lips. "Thank you," he said beneath a whisper.

 

Sunny didn't reply. He usually didn't. Basil was used to it. Sunny was a person of few words, and that was okay. That was okay. Together, still hand-in-hand, they walked out of the clothes section. Well, more like Sunny led and Basil simply followed blindly. Basil didn't know his way around this store. He couldn't even remember what store they were in. He always depended on Sunny. After all, as long as he had Sunny, he would be okay. He would be okay.

 

But as they neared what seemed to be the main area of the store, Basil clung to Sunny's side tighter and tighter. He didn't think there would be so many people here as well. They were everywhere. Why were they everywhere? Basil didn't like it. Basil didn't want to keep going.

 

He planted his feet onto the ground, causing Sunny to stop in his tracks, looking over at Basil in confusion.

 

"Th-There's people..." Basil mumbled, feeling his breaths getting heavier and heavier. "There's too many people here, S-Sunny." He kept his sights on the boy holding his hand, not wanting to look around and see the sheer amount of watching eyes. They could be staring back at him right now, and he wouldn't even know. They could be judging him, criticizing him, watching him, and Basil wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

 

Sunny glanced around. Casually. Like it was nothing. Like there was no one else around them. Like they really were the only living, breathing souls in this whole store. Sunny glanced around like it didn't matter to him. 

 

"Basil, I need to check these items out first," he reasoned, his tone bordering impatient.

 

"I-I know... but..." But there were too many people. He couldn't continue. He couldn’t breathe right. As if all the people in this room took away the air for themselves, leaving none left for Basil—leaving him to suffocate.

 

Sunny clicked his tongue and looked past him, like he wasn’t even there, before slowly nodding his head. 

 

“Okay,” he relented, tugging Basil’s hand in the opposite direction. “Follow.”

 

Sunny led him back to the clothing section they were at previously, but didn’t stop there. They walked more and more before Sunny stopped at the entrance of the fitting room area. It was closed, sectioned off with a velvet red rope. No one was here. Nonetheless, Sunny ducked under the rope, guiding Basil further inside. He nodded at one of the seats by the changing stalls, prompting him to sit down. Basil obliged.

 

"Stay here. I'll go check these out and then we can leave," Sunny explained. He let go of Basil's hand, about to turn to leave before Basil sprung up from his seat in a panic, latching onto Sunny's arm.

 

"W-Wait!" He pleaded, eyes wide. "Y-You're going to leave me here...?" He glanced around the empty room. Rows of changing stalls surrounded them. They felt like tall, intimidating towers closing in on him. The area was barely lit, and a multitude of boxes and miscellaneous clothing racks were littered around the room. They casted dark shadows on the walls—disfigured shapes that could spring to life when he least expected it. It was bad here. He didn’t like it here. "I don't want to b-be alone."

 

"You don't want to come with me either, though."

 

"I-I do!" Basil insisted. His voice seemed to echo through the vacant room. "It's just... I don't want to go where all the p-people are..."

 

"Then you can't come with me," Sunny said.

 

Basil opened his mouth, wanting to refute his claim, but nothing came out. Sunny had a point. It wasn't like he could demand all the other patrons of the store to leave. And Basil would be too overwhelmed if he were to follow along, Sunny knew that. The next best idea was to just... leave Basil. All alone. In this empty, disorganized, dimly lit changing area. It was for Basil's own good.

 

Reluctantly, Basil nodded, loosening his grip on Sunny's arm. "You're right..." he admitted. "I'm sorry."

 

"I'll be back in five minutes," Sunny briefly glanced at his phone. "You stay here and you don't move, okay?"

 

"O-Okay."

 

"Okay," Sunny nodded. A beat passed before he turned away and left. Away from view, away from Basil.

 

Basil steadied his breathing, lowering back into one of the seats by the changing stalls. It was enormous in comparison to his scrawny figure. It seemed to swallow him up.

 

This was fine. Everything was going to be fine. Sunny only left for a moment. He was coming back. He'd always come back. He wasn't abandoning Basil, he was doing this for Basil. Because Sunny was kind and considerate. He was kind to Basil and he knew what was best for him.

 

Five minutes, he said. He'd only be gone for five minutes.

 

Basil dug through his pockets, fishing out the phone that he rarely used. Despite it being his phone, he didn’t know the passcode for it. He’d have to ask Sunny to unlock it for him. Luckily, he didn’t need to unlock it to check the time. In bold, white numbers, the time on his lockscreen read 2:30.

 

Okay. So Sunny would come back at 2:35. Okay. That was fine. Basil could wait five minutes. It was only five minutes. He would be okay. Basil breathed in deeply again, avoiding staring at the shadows plastered on the wall for too long. 

 

He glanced at his phone again.

 

2:31

 

Okay. Okay. Only four more minutes. Sunny would come back in four minutes. Okay. That was okay. Basil would be okay. He was okay. Don’t look at the walls, don’t look at the shadows, don’t look at the stalls, don’t look, don’t look.

 

He glanced at his phone again.

 

2:33

 

When did two more minutes pass…?

 

No, that was okay. This was okay. This was fine. Sunny would be back even sooner now—only two more minutes until he came back. Right. This was fine. This was good, even. Sunny would be back in no time and they would finally be able to leave this crowded, dense, overpopulated store. They would be able to leave, and everything would be okay. 

 

Basil tried to ignore his racing heart, the sound of it pounding against his ribcage echoing in his ears. He shakily wiped away his sweaty palms on his pants. That was weird. Why were his hands so sweaty? Why was his heart beating so fast? That was weird. It wasn’t like he was nervous or anything. Of course not. He would have no reason to. After all, Sunny would be back in two minutes from now.

 

He checked his phone.

 

2:34

 

One minute from now.

 

...Sunny would be back in one minute from now. (When did the time pass by so fast?) That was good—great, even. Not much longer now. He could leave soon—they could leave soon. He wasn't nervous. He was not worried. (His palms were clammy and his heart was racing). Why would he be? He had no reason to. (Don’t look at the shadows. Don’t look at the walls). He was okay. (He was alone).

 

 

He was alone.

 

That… was okay.

 

“Excuse me—”

 

Basil flinched hard, a breathless gasp leaving his lips as his eyes focused on the woman now in front of him. She was close—too close. Her voice sounded loud in the empty room—too loud. 

 

Who is this? Where did she come from? Why is she here? Why is she talking to me? What happened? What’s going on? Where’s Sunny—?

 

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. We aren’t allowing customers back he—”

 

Basil bolted away from her before she could utter another word. He found himself back in the middle of the clothing section again. He wanted to run away—run far, far away—but there were too many people—oh there were so many people… Every direction he started in seemed to be blocked by someone else. It was like he was trapped in an ever changing maze, doomed to wander through these aisles for eternity. He was lost. He was lost and confused and scared and alone.

 

Where was Sunny?

 

He checked his phone for the last time.

 

2:36

 

Where was Sunny?

 

It was over five minutes. It had been six minutes and Sunny wasn’t here. Sunny wasn’t here. He said five minutes, he’d only be gone for five minutes and he wasn’t here. Sunny wasn’t here. Sunny didn’t come back. Sunny left and he didn’t come back. Where did he go? Where was he? Where did Sunny go? Why did Sunny leave? Where was he? Where? Where? Where?

 

Every aisle looked the same, Basil was lost—running in circles, lost in a maze with no exit. There were people. There were too many people. Over there, over here. He couldn’t go there. He couldn’t stay here. He needed to leave. He couldn’t leave. He needed to find Sunny. Where was Sunny? Sunny was gone. Where did Sunny go? Every aisle looked the same—where was he going? Don’t look at the shadows. Don’t look at the walls. Where was Sunny? Sunny left. Five minutes. He’d only be gone for five minutes. Where did Sunny go? Where was Basil?

 

“S-Sunny…?” He entered another aisle. Has he been here before? They all looked the same. Where was he going? “S… S-Sunny…”  He entered another aisle. It looked the same. “S-Sunny… where…?” He entered another aisle. It was the same.

 

“S-Sun—” His voice choked around a sob. Tears began to spill over and his throat felt tight, as if someone tied a noose around his neck. Pulling and pulling it, tighter and tighter. He couldn’t breathe. If he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t speak. If he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t call for Sunny. Sunny won’t hear him. Sunny won’t find him. Where did Sunny go? Where was Sunny?

 

“…S—Sunny…” Soon enough, his legs gave in. He couldn’t keep wandering anymore. He was getting exhausted.

 

Basil collapsed to the floor, his chest heaving. How long has it been? Did Sunny leave him? No, no. He was coming back. Where was Sunny? Sunny abandoned him. No, no. Sunny would be back in five minutes. How much time has passed? Where was Basil? Don’t look at the shadows. Don’t look at the walls. Where was he? There were too many people over there. Over here. Over there. Where was Sunny?

 

He pulled his knees up to his chest, making himself as small as possible. He felt small. This shirt was too big on him—this was Sunny’s shirt. The aisles were tall. They towered over him. Don’t look at the shadows. Don’t look at the walls. His fingers ran through his hair, eager to rip and pull. He couldn’t control it, it was a habit. It was an impulse—to ruin and destroy. He didn’t mean to. He couldn’t breathe right. Someone dug their hand into his chest and squeezed his lungs, refusing him air. Everyone took the oxygen away, leaving none for himself. That wasn’t fair. Basil wanted to leave. Basil wanted to breathe.

 

His hands were shaking. Why was he shaking? He was scared? Why was he scared? Where was Sunny? Sunny left. It’s been over five minutes. How long has it been? Sunny was gone. Sunny abandoned him. Sunny wouldn’t do that. Sunny was kind and considerate. He was kind to Basil. Sunny was a good boyfriend. Basil was loved. Basil was scared. Where was Sunny? Don’t look at the shadows. Don’t look at the walls. The time was 2:30. Only five minutes. This would be okay. Where was Sunny? It was an urge to ruin and destroy—it was a habit. Where was—?

 

“…sil?”

 

Where… was he?

 

“Bas…?”

 

Basil felt a hand laid on top of his own. It was cold. Frigid. It made him shiver. It made him want to flinch away. But he didn’t. He wanted to find comfort in it.

 

Another hand came up to his face. It was cold too. Basil wanted to lean into it—he felt like he should—but he didn’t. Why didn’t he? The hand scrubbed away his tears before disappearing again. Basil felt relief, yet empty. Why did he?

 

“Basil.” 

 

His gaze fell on that familiar head of black locks. He remembered when he used to card his hands through it, smoothening the tangles. The hair was knotted now. He made contact with those dark eyes. He found love in there, once upon a time. It was still there. Hiding, maybe.

 

It was Sunny, kneeling in front of him. Sunny found him.

 

And he could breathe again.

 

“What are you doing?” Sunny’s face stayed in neutrality. Basil wanted to say he was used to it.

 

“I-I…”

 

He didn’t let him finish. “I told you to stay put. Why didn’t you?”

 

Why?

 

He… couldn’t remember. Why did he leave? …Right. He wanted to find Sunny. He wanted to leave.

 

“Y-You… said five m-minutes…” Basil managed to force out.

 

“What?”

 

“Y-You said…” Basil exhaled a shaky breath, “y-you’d only take five m-minutes… Th-That wasn’t five minutes…”

 

“The lines were long,” he said simply. “But I told you to stay put. What if I didn’t find you? What would you do without me?”

 

What would you do without me?

 

Sunny asked that question a lot. It was a question Basil didn’t want to think about too much. He was scared of the answer, scared of what it entails.

 

“I—I’m sorry.”

 

Sunny stood up, pulling Basil up with him.

 

“I know.” He turned around, intertwining their fingers and guiding him toward the store’s exit. “We’re leaving now.”

 

Basil trotted along behind him. Amidst their walk, his gaze wandered down to the hem of his shirt—the shirt that was too big on him, the shirt that was actually Sunny’s. There was a thread undone.

 

He pulled on it.

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