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The lights pulsed in soft, hazy colors. Not the blinding kind you’d find in big-city clubs, but enough to make everything feel blurred from faces, laughter, to the steady beat shaking the floor. The air smelled like cheap smoke, and sweat. Music blasting loud enough that conversations were muffled. It was any party-person's dream place.
A party good enough to keep them hyped and entertained. It was Boombox's kind of thing for a popular underground indie musician. A dream for him, yet, a nightmare to... Some.
Somehow, somewhat, Medkit was in the said party. He stood near the edge of the dance floor, arms crossed tightly over his chest, eyes sharp as he scanned the room. Not scanning the crowd for fun—he was watching the exits more than the people. He wasn’t here for the party. He was here because Sword was invited to celebrate an event.
Originally, it wasn't even supposed to be Medkit. It was supposed to be Rocket. Although, Rocket excused themselves for not wanting to visit Playground and had to go finish his father's errands for him. So, in hopes of companion, Sword reached out to them.
Medkit didn't budge at first, insisting that they had to go fix Scythe's totally minor issue with the gear today. But, after a bit more convincing, he agreed reluctantly with the promise of being paid with extra bux in return. (They refused, though, knowing Sword, they'd still get at least 5 bux at the end of the day) and made up an excuse to her.
He didn’t really belong. He knew it, and honestly, he didn’t care. He stood at the edge of the room, arms crossed, leaning against a wall near a flickering “EXIT” sign. His eyes kept scanning—doors, corners, places to step away. He wasn't interested nor in the mood to start a conversation with any of the inphernals in the room.
They could go for a drink, but it'd leave him hungover the next morning which they didn't want to happen considering the amount of stuff he needs to finish by tomorrow.
The noise grated on his nerves, and the laughter felt like a sting. He wasn’t made for places like this—not for the music, not for the chaos, and certainly not for Boombox’s reckless enthusia-
Their thoughts were interrupted when someone nudged him with a snicker he didn’t hear. He barely blinked before it happened once more, snapping them back to reality.
"Hiya, Med! You there?"
Ah.
The same loud voice that Medkit could recognize any day, anywhere out of habit.
"Hello, Boombox." Medkit greeted back.
"Took ya long enough to notice." Boombox caught his glance, but they didn’t pull him into the crowd. He knew Medkit didn’t like being the center of attention, especially not in a place like this.
Medkit narrowed his eyes. “I’m not here to dance,” he warned.
Boombox smiled cheekily, all heat and noise. “Yeah, yeah. I figured. You're standing here as if you'll become one of the walls.”
Medkit looked like he wanted to retort. Something about how stupid this all was. How they wanted to be left alone for a moment. How Boombox never took anything seriously.
But a deep part of in them didn't. Kept them from speaking what they wanted to say in the first place.
Maybe because of how carefree the other can be, how relaxed they are during phights, how they can see something positive under a nasty, negative circumstance, how they can just. Be themselves.
Medkit would rather deal with Scythe and Broker's bickering than outright claim those feelings out loud to the gal beside him, standing there so... Free, not having to worry about being hunted by a crazy scientist and a himbo warden everyday.
Boombox didn’t push them. Didn’t tug on his sleeve or crack a joke to drag him out. Instead, they leaned against the wall beside him, mirroring his posture with a lazy kind of ease. They were close enough to feel his warmth but not enough to crowd them.
"Y'know," Boombox spoke again, "you don't have to smile, talk, or do anything." They said over the beat, not looking at the other. "I just like it when you're here."
"Oh?"
"...?" Boombox raised a brow before realization finally hit them.
"WAIT- I MEAN, YYYEAH? I DO LIKE IT but I mean- Just... UGH." They groaned, facepalming himself in the face. Can't really cover up that now.
"I... likeee your presence. You don't need to do anything special! Just your presence alone is enough." The DJ exhaled shakily. If it weren't for the vibrant neon lights, Boombox could swear there was a huge hue of red plastering on his face right now.
Meanwhile, the healer blinked, a weird fluttering feeling bursting through him. Yet, his gaze didn't shift. He tried to remain his composure despite the irregular heart-beating of his chest which he wasn't sure if it was supposed to be normal.
He stared ahead a second longer, then scoffing. "Then you're weird."
"Weirder than you think actually!" Boombox proudly said, a chuckle following along.
Medkit’s eyes flicked back to the crowd, but the tension in his shoulders eased just a little. The chaos of the club was still too much, but having Boombox near made it both bearable and unbearable with the growing feeling in him. It irritated him.
But he didn’t move away.
Boombox hummed, knowing that sometimes just being near was enough. No forced conversations, no fake smiles. Just two people sharing a noisy space without needing to fill it with words. It was comfortable. There was no pressure between the two.
"You didn't hate this?"
"Didn't love it either."
"But you stayed."
Silence.
"I only did for Sword. Don't get used to it."
"Oh, I plan to." Boombox shifted, resting his arms on the railing in front of them. "I thought you'd leave ten minutes in."
"I still might, though." Medkit muttered.
"Eh, just glad you're still here for this long," Boombox tapped their finger endlessly to the beat of the music blasting, "You can just stay here and do nothing." They paused. "If only you want to."
"... You really mean that?"
Boombox nodded, tipping their head toward the door. "If you want to leave, I’ll walk you out. But if you want to stay... I’m here."
Medkit didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took a slow breath, letting the noise wash over him without panic. Then they glanced back at the club, at the faces and the lights and the music he usually avoided.
"Maybe... just for a little while."
Boombox grinned like he’d just won the best prize. "That’s all I’m asking."
And Medkit stayed. The music never got quieter, but somehow, it didn’t ring in his ears as much. The crowd kept dancing, spinning under the lazy pulse of the lights, but his eyes drifted less to the exits and more to the way Boombox drummed their fingers on the railing to the beat absentmindedly, like the song lived in his bones.
"You always hang out at the edge?" Medkit asked suddenly.
Boombox looked over, a little surprised by the question. "Sometimes." He paused, eyes scanning everywhere around the area but the other. "Only when the person I wanna see is out here instead of in there." They snickered.
Medkit rolled his eyes, but he didn’t hide the way his lips tugged, just faintly. "You’re insufferable."
"Yeah. But charming, right?"
"Debatable."
"Oh, c'mon!" He whined to which Medkit ignored. Boombox leaned in just a bit, not enough to invade, just enough to make sure the next words weren’t swallowed by the noise.
"Hey. For real. Thanks for not running off."
Medkit tilted his head. "I still can."
"I know." Boombox’s grin softened. "But you haven’t. That's why I'm so grateful!"
For a brief moment, their eyes met. Just for a second. Boombox didn’t tease, didn’t smirk. He just looked at him like he saw him, in a way that didn’t demand anything more than what Medkit was already giving. And that… was new.
Medkit cleared his throat, glancing away again, fidgeting with the hem of his cavat. "You’re lucky Sword bribed me."
"Am I lucky they bribed you, or that you said yes?"
... Yikes?
They didn’t answer. Couldn’t, maybe. His fingers curled a little tighter under his arms, then relaxed. He didn’t want to admit it. That maybe he was glad Rocket bailed. That maybe, standing here beside someone who didn’t try to fix him or pry him open, was nicer than he expected.
The same person who is so obnoxiously loud is standing right here beside him, letting Medkit be Medkit.
... Yeah. It did feel nice to meet people like this. Having companions that lets you be your authentic self, and forget about the walls you build around yourself.
With a quick snap of fingers, the doc was brought back to reality again. His eyes flickering back to the green fella staring back at them with their visor eyes.
"Stare at me like that one more time and I'm going to start thinking you like me." Boombox said suddenly, flashing him a crooked, anxious smile.
Medkit groaned. "Now I will leave."
"Nah, you won’t," Boombox said, placing a hand on Med's shoulder. "Because even if you don’t like parties, even if you think I’m a dumbass—"
"Which I do."
Boombox rolled his eyes. "—you still stayed. So either I’m growing on you, or you really hate yourself."
Medkit exhaled sharply through his nose, which Boombox decided was definitely a laugh, even if he wouldn’t admit it.
The beat of the music shifted into something smoother, slower—not a full change, but a breather in the rhythm. Medkit’s gaze lingered on the crowd, then back to Boombox, then to the floor. He didn’t move. Didn’t smile. But his voice, when he spoke, was quiet enough to cut through the noise.
"You’re not a dumbass." he whispered.
Boombox blinked.
"Sorry, say that again, Med?"
"Don’t make me repeat it."
"Whoops, there goes my free trial!"
And this time, when Boombox smiled, it was warm. Not loud. Not cheeky. Just… real. For a long minute, they just stood there.
Two polar opposites that managed to get along despite the contrast in personalities and vibes. The extroverted musician with a closed-off healer bonding at a place no one honestly expects they would.
...
Maybe, just maybe, Medkit lets himself indulge in the weird feeling for once instead of running away from it. Just this once in his life.