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It was lonely in your house now, with all your household items being...well, just objects now.
Sure, you were constantly having the dateables coming in and out on various visits. Whether they were friendly, sexy, professional, or otherwise, it’s not like you were alone 24/7 like you had been before.
But on nights when nobody was over, nights like this, the house echoed with silence. It reminded you of the “before” times, before the dateviators. Back when you were alone in the house, as far as you were aware.
You’d like to go outside and venture out into the world. Hell, at least go down the street. But you couldn’t-- you knew you couldn’t. Too much bad outside, too much danger. If you weren’t so mental, you would be out of the house all the time, going out on adventures with your many friends and lovers. But no, because of your...situation, here you are sitting. Alone.
Well, at least you could do was get your mail. It was put in your mailbox right outside. That was something you could do. The one thing you could do.
So, you opened the door, nervous to avoid any nosy neighbors who attempted to talk to you. You could not let anyone know how damaged you were, so you never let anyone see you. Know you.
But this time, no neighbors. No one walking their dog, or kids playing outside, just quiet. You sighed in relief and stepped out on the porch to grab the mail when something caught your eye.
Something was in your bushes down the stairs in front of your fenced porch. Something...or someone?
“H-Hello?” You called softly, trying to stay calm. “I... I have a big bad boyfriend who will come out here and pummel your ass!”
“...You do?” a slightly cracked voice replied from the bushes. You knew that voice—it was one voice you hadn't heard in months. The one voice you wanted to hear.
“.... Jerry?” Your breath hitched in your throat as he stood up for your call.
He looked the same; dishelved hair, frumpy wrinkled clothes. But now they were a t-shirt and jeans, instead of his usual button up and bow tie. He gave you a pathetic sheepish grin as he tripped over some branches crawling out of the bushes.
“What---wha---?” You stammered, your brain trying to form words of questions that you wanted to ask. Finally, your brain decided to let out a “Why?”
“Why?” He asked as he swept rogue leaves from his messy black hair.
“Why are you here?” You finished the question.
“Hmmph,” he huffed. “Well, that just answers that, doesn’t it?!”
“What...What are you talking about?!” It’s like he was speaking in riddles.
You noticed that a few of your neighbors had started to look out their windows at your conversation, fascinated by it. You’d NEVER stay on your porch in conversation, you were always rushing whoever knocked on your door inside, tucked away in your mystery house.
“.... Get in here,” You grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs and inside, away from the prying eyes.
Once inside, you could tell Jerry was already flustered from the skin-on-skin contact, as he was furiously blushing and wringing his hands.
“Now what are you talking about?” You crossed your arms in an awaiting stance.
“What? My comment?” He huffed again.“Well, it seems like you’re always having another conquest in here every night, so if I’m not on the schedule, what must I be doing here?”
“Conquests?” Your nose crinkled in curiosity, and then it dawned on you. “Have you.... have you been spying on me?!”
His angry scowl turned into a scary pout and then came back again just as quickly.
“NO. No, I am just simply observant. Every time I walk by this house, you have been welcoming some new ‘guest’ inside!”
“Every time you --?” The wheels in your head were spinning once more. How many times has he been down your street? And when? And WHY?
“What-- What--- WHY are you walking down my street?” your voice raised slightly.
“Because! I—I just like it. Y’know, an old neighborhood. I lived here my whole life.” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
“So, you’ve just been stalking me. For MONTHS.” you repeated.
“No!” He protested, flapping his arms in complete disorder. “NO, I haven’t--”
“And-- y’know what? How DARE you!” you interjected with a scoff. Now you were angry.
“How dare I?” he asked in shock. “How dare I--?”
“You have some nerve, yknow that?” You spat. “You-- you leave here, without so much as a GOODBYE. No note, no forwarding address, nothing! And you don’t speak to me, for MONTHS.” Your fists clenched into angry fists.
“And then you hide in my bushes? To SPY on me?” angry, hot tears welled up in your eyes. “And you have the AUDACITY to come here, and judge me? Judge my life?”
“Well, it--” he fumbled over his words now. “It seems like I never had a chance to “talk to you” because some ‘guest’ was always here, and--”
“It could’ve been you!” You cut him off again, tears now very clear in your voice.
“Do you think I’ve just—I've just been sitting here, fucking every person that comes into my house?”
“Well, you were before--”
“NO.” You interjected. “NO. You don’t get to stand there and judge me for things I did in this house just to survive."
“Survive?” He let out a disgusting laugh.
“Survive being lonely!” You argued.
“You were lonely? With me here?” His face welled back into a puppy dog pout. It was clear now that all he had wanted was your exclusive attention.
“I...” Your mind was spinning. What was happening? Why was he saying this? Were you in a nightmare?
“.... Look, Jerry.” You sighed, walking towards your couch in the living room. He followed suit.
“I....it was a game, okay? Of sorts.”
“A game?! A game of what?!”
“The datev---Skylar.” You sighed. “Skylar said that I had to get the other...dateables,” you blushed at the word, embarrassed to say it out loud.
“Dateables?” His nose was scrunched. “That’s what you called us?”
“She said it!” You tried defending yourself by throwing Skylar under the bus. “She said that I had to earn the trust of every date—everyone, in this house for her to be able to Realize you.”
“Huh,” he exhaled in bewilderment.
“And you—you gave that trust so easily! So incredibly easily, in the first few conversations we had!” You went on, knowing you had to get this all out before you started to feel crazy.
“Christ, Parker made me go through a whole god damn week of board games, just to throw a DICE on our relationship! And he is lucky it landed on ‘friendship’ because if he hated me, he’d still be up there alone in the attic.”
“...Really?”
“Yeah.” you half laughed. “Just ask Jean Loo or Lux—well, I suppose you can’t. Neither can I. They’re just...light and water now.” You shook your head.
You half wondered if they regretted getting angry at you, hating you, and spitting on you. Because in the end it got them trapped in this house with you, unable to speak. Fitting, really. You wondered if they were even sentient anymore—not like you cared anyway.
“...But you’ll remember I still talked to you,” you added.
“...You did,” he looked at you with those endearing eyes.
Your mind drifted to the nights when you’d spend hours in your office, just talking to Jerry about everything and anything. After Mac had shut down, Penelope was snoring in the post on top of a snoring Dasha.
You and Jerry would just spend all night discussing things—his curiosities about the world outside and explaining each and every object in his drawer. You loved that the most.
The way he spoke about every piece of your trash with such care and affection, as if they were the greatest treasures.
They were to him. But you—you were the greatest treasure of all. He wished so badly he had said that out loud to you. Even once; but he never mustered up the courage. Even when he was Realized, all he could do was let you hold him, let you take the lead. He just laid out their content, unable to show any kind of true affection.
---
And then—when he woke up, he watched you sleep. He stared at every detail of your face, your body. And he had thought to himself, you deserved better. You deserved more than he could have given you. The broken, scatterbrained “junk” that he was.
And so, he had left; after a proper new thing he discovered called a shower. He had left in secret, in search of finding himself on his own two feet. It was terrifying at first, but then he came across a pawn shop.
It was like a giant junk drawer! Things that people had discarded, all put on display for others to purchase and admire. Granted, it was a lot less odor than he used to be, and much better organized.
After spending hours in the shop, he was told to either buy something or go out. Seeing that he had no money, he moved onto the next shop. Which happened to be a model train store. And boy, was he excited!
The trains were all meticulously detailed, individual in their own way. And so many pieces! So many things to put together in unusual ways. Routes, train cars, he loved it all. He loved them so much he was determined to get one himself. But he needed money.
So, he returned to the pawn shop to inquire about a job. The owner at first was hesitant, but after an empowering speech about how each item was a treasure, he gave it a shot. And was he glad he did! Jerry began talking to most customers who came to sell something into another Knick knack in the store! Which saved the money the shop gave out, which began turning into major profits for the shop! Many people would come to the shop just to hear Jerry talk about their things with such love and care, knowing they would go to good homes in the end.
But he was always missing one thing—you. It was true, the pawn and train shop were barely a block from your house, and so often he found himself walking by. And it was also true that many times he would see another “Dateable” walking into the house with you. You always looked so enthralled to see them, and they like you. He still didn’t think he was worthy of facing you, and now that he had been caught and brough back into his former life, his tensions became an all-time high.
--
“...Jerry?” You waved a hand in front of his hand while he inner monologued, bringing him back to earth.
“I um--” he coughed emphatically. “I do remember that.”
“Y’know I never did that with anyone else,” you confessed. “It was all...physical.”
He frowned at the thought but was also touched in a way.
“So, you do have conquests,” he sighed.
“Will you shut up about ‘conquests’?” You flicked his temple. “You make me sound like a caveperson.”
“Well, I’m sorry but how else am I supposed to put it?”
“You don’t have to ‘put it’ anyway!” your arms folded. “You don’t get to say anything about it because you weren’t here!”
“But I--” his mind flailed, trying to figure out how to explain the last few months. “I couldn’t.”
“You couldn’t or you wouldn't?” you narrowed your eyes.
“...Both, I suppose,” he finally admitted.
“What does that mean?” Your eyebrows piqued in curiosity.
“It means I--- I didn’t find myself worthy of you,” he looked down at his hands.
“Worthy?” You snorted. “You come in here and accuse me of being a slut, and you think you’re unworthy of that? Why? Because you’re a virgin?”
“I didn’t mean you were a slut!” He loudly protested. “I would never—but wait, why did you say--”
“Jerry.” You looked at him sternly. “You didn’t even kiss me when I Realized you. You never made a move on me when you were still a drawer.”
“So, is that why you could talk to me and fuck every other object in this house?!” He blurted out angrily.
He at once regretted it. His hands slapped over his mouth, a horrified look in his eyes.
“I--I didn’t mean--”
“No, I – that's fair,” you said meekly.
“It is?”
“Yes...I... I mean for fuck’s sake you were an object, Jerry. An autistic one. At that.” you sighed.
“Autistic?”
“I mean, I assumed--”
“What does that mean?”
“Oh,” you suddenly felt stupid. Of course he wouldn’t know what that was. Or if he was.
“It... Well, basically I realize you’re not great at picking up social cues. Or understanding relationships, I suppose,”
“Meaning...?” He still looked utterly lost.
“The way we spent our time together,” You gently took his hand. “I mean, obviously there wasn’t much...affection. Romantically, I mean. Well--”
This wasn’t right. You weren’t explaining this well.
“I... I always felt this—thing, between us.” you rubbed the back of his palm with your thumb. “An...an unspoken kind of affection,”
“You did?” He asked in bewilderment. He hadn’t thought in a million years you actually picked up on his feelings, nor that you would reciprocate them.
“Mmmhmm,” you gave him the tiniest smile. “But I—I should have acknowledged it. Vocally,”
“Oh no!” He shook his head while now gripping a hold of your hand. “No, I—that's part of why I left.”
“Oh?” Now it was your turn to look puzzled.
“I couldn’t...I knew there was something as well. I mean, at least on my end. I never—I wanted to tell you every time I saw you, but I—I was scared,”
“Understandable.” You nodded. “But that's why I should have said something. I knew—even if you didn’t.”
“So... why didn’t you?” He asked cautiously.
“Because I was scared too!” you gripped his hand tighter. “I feared scaring you off; I didn't know if you were ready to confront those kinds of emotions. That if I even mentioned romantic feelings, you’d spook or something. It was stupid. I’m stupid--”
You looked away in shame, but Jerry put a finger under your chin and turned your face back towards him.
“You my dear, are anything but stupid.” He smiled genuinely. For the first time this evening.
“But I knew—I KNOW, that if you have—a certain, situation with someone—you respect it.” Tears dripped down your face.
“I knew that having relations, with the others, with the feelings I had about you, was disrespectful. If I had really lov—cared about you,” you swallowed the word.
“I would’ve said something. I would have done something. I wouldn’t just throw myself around between the breaker box to the fucking D20!”
“Chance?” His voice cracked. How did he not know about that?
“It doesn’t matter.” you shook your head. “The point is, I should have clarified with you, that our--- our relationship, meant something. That I only wanted that something, with you.”
“Our relationship?” He gulped. “You and I were in a relationship?”
“That’s my point!” You sighed. “We never defined what we were to each other. I never--”
You paused, still terrified to say the words. You hadn’t said them in such a long time to anyone. And the last person you did say it to left you. Alone.
But you had to stop being scared—you had to stop letting your past define your future. You could not—and would not, lose him again.
“I never told you I loved you,” you said in the softest of voices, now looking down at your own lap.
Jerry just sat there for a moment, drinking in your words. At first, he thought he had heard you wrong, there was no way you had just said that to him. Those words that he had dreamed, wished, and ached would come from your lips. Those words were now fully directed at him in such a direct way.
The silence was killing you. Have you been too late? Had you screwed this up too badly?
“I...” His voice was hoarse at first, before he coughed to lubricate his throat. “I love you, too Y/N,”
Your eyes darted up to his face in an instant upon hearing the words. He said them. He really and truly said them. To you. Out loud.
“Please,” you grabbed both of his hands in desperation, tears rolling down your cheeks.
“Please, Jerry. Don’t...Don’t leave me again. Please,”
Hearing you beg in such a pitiful demeanor broke his heart into a million pieces. This was the last thing he wanted, to see you like this. To make you feel like this. He had left because he thought you would never feel like this—not about him, anyway.
But here you were, pleading with him to just stay there. Stay in that house with you, like he had always wanted to. He could’ve been so much happier so much sooner if he hadn’t gotten it his own way.
And then he realized what you were saying before—she clung to the others because you thought he didn’t care for you the way he did.
“You’re....you’re saying, you don’t want the others to keep you company?”
“I never wanted them!” Your voice is now filled with tiny sobs. “I never wanted any of them except you. I should have told you that. I should never have lost myself in them when all I wanted was you. I only did so because--”
You took a second to breathe.
“Because I was so lonely. So, God damn lonely. And I needed affection, real outright affection. And I thought I couldn’t get that from you, that I couldn’t communicate to you, that’s what I needed. And it was dumb. It was so, incredibly--”
He cut you off with his lips crashing against yours. At first it was just a clumsy way of getting you to stop calling yourself dumb again, but he quickly realized he had metaphorically leapt into deep shark infested waters without a shark cage.
“I--- I’m sorry!” He flustered as he lurched back against the couch. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”
“...Because you didn’t want to?” You sniffled.
“What? No!” He immediately reassured you. “No, because I wasn’t---I wasn’t ready, and I just did it because I couldn't hear you put yourself down again.”
“Oh,” you nodded, wiping tears from your eyes. “Right, right,”
“But--” he gulped. “I would—I would like to be ready,”
“Meaning...?” your eyebrow raised.
“Meaning--- can I kiss you again? Properly, this time?” he asked sheepishly.
“God please do,” It took every single ounce of self-control not to grab him and kiss him passionately right there. You knew he needed to do this at his own pace.
Jerry breathed out nervously, trying to figure out where to put his hands first. Did they go to your waist? Or your shoulders? Or your face? Your face looked nice. It looked holdable. He had seen it in the rom coms you would watch on Mac occasionally. Sure, that’s all he had to do. Copy them.
He moved his shaking hands towards your face, then stopped halfway as he guessed himself.
You couldn’t help but find his deliberating endearing. You raised your hands to his, taking them and moving them towards your face as you leaned in. Slowly but surely, he let you guide his hands to either side of your face, brushing his lips across yours in the lightest of kisses.
When they contacted, you made your own move. Your hands went back over his on your face and pulled him closer, increasing the force of which was his lips upon yours. When Jerry felt the sensation, he quickly responded by leaning forward on the couch so that you began to lay down, with him on top of you.
You continued to guide him through the kiss, slightly opening your mouth and ever so gently licking his lips for permission to enter. He quickly did so, also letting his tongue enter yours slightly. Once your tongue began to explore his mouth, he quickly responded in the same manner. Soon you were making out heavily on your couch.
You smiled broadly across his lips, unable to keep from doing so. You had waited for what felt like decades for this. You had fantasized about it so much it was like feeling DeJa'Vu, as if you’d done this a million times before.
After a few moments of heavy necking, Jerry pulled back with a very wide smile and breathed as if he’d just run a triathlon.
“W-Wowzers,” He nervously chuckled. “That was—That was--” for once he was at a loss for words. “Can we do that again?”
You giggled and nodded, cueing him to immediately jump back into your mouth, tiny little hums and moans being pulled from both of you.
“I love you,” he whispered between kisses. “I love you; I love you; I love you,”
He felt as if he couldn’t say enough, after all this time he was unable to.
“I love you too,” you repeated back to him every time he said it.
Suddenly something dawned on him, causing him to immediately cease kissing you and sit up abruptly.
“What’s wrong?” You asked with immediate concern. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” he replied. “I did,”
“Oh honey,” you smirked. “Did you cream in your pants already? Because that’s perfectly--”
“What? No! Ew!” He gagged, causing another giggle from you. “No, I never answered your request,”
His words made you sit up, now more attentive to his words. “Oh?”
His now still hand went into your hair, stroking your jaw with his thumb. You instinctively kissed it as he spoke.
“I promise—no no, I swear--” he locked eyes with you with more intensity than you’d ever seen from him.
“I will never leave you again, Y/N,”
Happy tears sprang from your eyes as you tearfully laughed, pulling him back on top of you.
“I’m gonna hold you to that,” you warned happily before peppering him with kisses.
“Please do,” he smirked as he began kissing you again, his hands now beginning to roam your body.
And hold him you did, so tightly you swear you could crawl into each other’s skin. And that was just the way you liked it—how you needed it, for the rest of your life.