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Pest leaned against the cold, stone wall. Dim lights flickered overhead, the irritating buzzing noise disturbing the peaceful quiet.
It was one of those rare days where Pest had to go on the train. Usually, he waited here for the elevator, but today he was going to a junkyard nearby to (hopefully) find some scrap material.
Pest glanced up as the rumbling sound of wheels on tracks faded into earshot. About time, it was almost 10 minutes late. Plus, people don't even go on it half of the time. Pest shifted his gaze to the tunnel as the train slowly came into a view, slowing down, and stopping. Pest pushed himself off the wall and walked to the opening doors, taking a seat in the corner.
As expected, the railroad car was completely empty. There would be nobody to disturb the quiet, and he could get to the junkyard peacefully.
At least, that's what Pest had hoped for, until Poob unfortunately came into the railroad car last minute. Pest bit back a groan. Maybe Poob would leave him alone? Impossible. Maybe they wouldn't see him? Unlikely. In such an empty space, there's no way to hide.
Poob glanced around, their eyes seemingly lighting up when they rested their gaze on Pest.
They strolled over to him, smiling as they sat down.
"Hi, Pest!" Poob greeted with their stupidly shining smile. When Pest didn't respond, they continued, "What're you doing here? I don't think I've ever seen you get on the train before."
Alas, there was no hope for him. If Pest didn't respond, Poob would probably just ramble on about something, so he might as well engage in conversation, right?
"I'm just going to get scrap material," Pest replied.
"Oh, cool! Where?"
"A junkyard."
"That's nice! I'm going to party. I hope you have fun there!"
“ Of course you’re going to a party. You go to parties every day— do you go anywhere else? ”
Poob didn't understand anything Pest had just said, but they continued anyway, "My friend just got a chocolate fountain, so she bought a bunch of strawberries for everyone. She also got drinks, and a whole bunch of other party stuff! I'm really excited, because I've mever had a party ar her apartment before. I wonder what type of people she invited!"
Poob continued to ramble on about his friend and the party he's going to. He paused once to ask, "Sorry, I'm just going on and on! Do you have anything you want to talk about?" Pest had said no, so Poob went on to talk about the party they went to yesterday, and the day before, and the best party they'd ever been to, and so on.
Pest didn't really pay attention, his mind drifting away to other thoughts. He had replied earlier to avoid hearing Poob ramble, but it looks like it would turn out that way no matter what Pest did.
At one point, Poob had stopped talking. Maybe they had nothing else interesting to talk about (not like anything before captured Pest's attention), or just didn't want to bother Pest any longer. If it was the latter, Pest would be very grateful.
For a while, Poob started humming random tunes they'd make up on the spot. Pest was a bit irritated by it at first, but eventually realized that the humming was somewhat... peaceful. Yeah, peaceful.
Pest felt Poob shift their weight to lean back on the seat, and not long after, he felt an unfamiliar weight on his shoulders.
It wasn't unpleasantly heavy, Pest had a great deal of stength. It felt warm, maybe a little comforting. Pest didn't move his head as he glanced down at Poob, who was now resting their head on his shoulder with their eyes closed.
Did... did Poob really just fall asleep on his shoulder?
Suddenly, Pest's hands felt clammy and sweaty. He shifted his gaze back to Poob, then to the window right ahead, back to Poob, over and over again in a loop. Pest shut his eyes, hands gripping the fabric of his pants, desperate to cling on something. It felt like his heart was stuck in his throat, booming in his eardrums, and that he had to rip it out at all costs.
What is this feeling?
Was he sick? Was it just a product of his hatred for Poob? He'd never been in physical contact with Poob, not ever. What was happening with him?
He needed to get away. Maybe if he slowly shifted away, he could get Poob off his shoulder without waking him. Why does he even care if Poob stays asleep or not? To prevent Poob from talking too much again. Yes, exactly that.
But, that was a little risky. Pest didn't care too much about Poob's personal life. He wouldn't be surprised if Poob was at parties all day every day, excluding the time he spent in that elevator. Pest didn't know if they were a light sleeper or not. Besides, the warmth and weight was oddly comfortable. He's not making excuses, right? Definitely not. He has no reason to. Why would he make excuses? He hates Poob. Loathes him.
Pest calmed his racing mind, slowly breathing in and out. He opened his eyes again to the sight of Poob sleeping, their chest slowly rising up and down in quiet exhales. The strange feeling seemed to intensifiy, and Pest quickly looked away to stare at the ground. This was weird, to say the least.
Pest let go of the grip he had on his clothing, letting the hand that wasn't on Poob's side to trail over to his chest.
He put a little bit of pressure, a gentle amount, to the area where his heart was. His heartbeat was still booming, but it was quieter this time.
Eventually, Pest managed to collect himself. Did he really hate Poob so much that he ended up like... that? That was just embarrassing.
There was a loud beep, and the announcer spoke, "Now arriving, Tulipia." Then, the intercom shut off.
Poob shifted and slowly awakened, stretching their limbs and they glanced around before looking at Pest with a sheepish smile.
"Sorry I fell asleep," Poob apologized, "your shoulder doesn't hurt or anything? It's not asleep or something? I didn't drool, right? If I did, I'm really sorry..." Poob mumbled, fidgeting with their hands.
Pest paused, glancing at his shoulder, the warmth slowly tingling away. He wanted more of it. But why?
"You didn't drool. It's fine." Pest said, not letting himself make eye contact with them.
"Ah, okay, good!" Poob looked up at the sign above the door. Tulipia. "Oh, I get off here. Your junkyard must be pretty far. Or was my nap just really short? I didn't really pay attention to the time," Poob remarked, getting up and rubbing their arm a bit. "Bye, Pest! Maybe I'll see you on my way back! Well, probably not, unless you stay at the Junkyard really late at night... See you later!"
Poob waved goodbye, grinning as they walked out of the train. Pest allowed himself to make some eye contact with Poob, and kept a watchful gaze on them as the exited the train station.
Not long after, the doors closed, and the train started moving again.
Why does he feel that way? Why does he want that warmth back?
Well, it's best not to think about it. For now, he can finally just sit in comfortable silence. He has a lot of time for those thoughts later.