Chapter Text
An increasing thump thump THUMP startled Buddy from the cozy nap he was taking on the windowsill, cuddled up in a red hoodie in the setting sun.
He froze, doing his best impression of a tchotchke, just in case it wasn't Chase sprinting up the stairs to his room.
The door swung open quickly
ricocheted off the wall
rattling the window he was resting by.
It nearly closed on the hand that reached in and threw a familiar teal bag, covered with geometric designs, onto the floor, next to the growing pile of dirty clothes.
The door met the doorjamb.
A distant door slammed.
Ah, right. Humans had certain needs that he didn't as a key, though that particular thing wasn't something he missed… Not with the frequent bouts of food poisoning.
back then, he ate what he could to survive
not all of it was suited for consumption
foul memories made him shudder
remembering times hunched over in a gutter
nights of unrest due to hunger
why did he want to be human again
━⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅━
Chase returned a short while later, much less violent with the door this time.
His hair was pulled up, stiff with dried sweat.
His dance gear clung to his body, his neck, and his arms.
Even disheveled, sitting cross-legged on the floor, tossing things out of his bag like a gremlin, Chase brought a brightness to the room.
Chase glanced around the room, first to the bed, then seeking out Buddy on the windowsill. When their eyes met, a relieved, loving smile bloomed on his face, bringing with it the dimple that, had he been close enough, Buddy could have nuzzled his head into.
Having made sure there was nobody occupying the bed, he retrieved his favorite black and teal jacket from the bag, yeeting it (a phrase Chase often used to describe this particular motion, though its etymology made no sense to Nox) onto the bed.
“Sorry, did I wake you? I was in a rush to get home", That bus ride took forrreeeverrrr… Chase groaned under his breath. Did they really need to stop at Every.Single.Bus Stop?
“Yes, well, when you slam a door strong enough to snap your own arm off, you can expect the racket to wake even the deepest sleeper. Save perhaps Freckles. He could sleep through an amateur break-in.” he rolled his eyes then glanced to the side. (He decided not to elaborate on his confidence that, if he had been the one to break in, not even Grandpa Ralph would hear him.)
“Awe, you think I'm strong?” Chase mused.
“That was not- ughh… I said nothing of the sort!”
“Hah, you’re just jealous of these guns!” Chase retorted, flexing his arms like a bodybuilder going for the win.
Buddy stared at him for a moment, his eyebrow raised, pretending to be unimpressed. Chase was beautiful, arms strong enough to throw him over his shoulder and run while doing it, but he wouldn't give him the satisfaction of indulging in his boast.
“You're allowed to stare. I know you want to," Chase wiggled his brows, "Been working on these bad boys for eight years.” (Well, four years, but Chase had taken the classes in tandem.)
“And what a waste of time it's been. What could you even lift with such weak, flimsy arms?” Buddy taunted, trying to get a rise out of him.
Chase smirked, relaxing his arms. “I could lift you. I think you just need a demonstration.”
He shook out his form.
Moving swiftly, he spun out of his position on the floor.
Shifting his weight back to his left foot.
Slid his right leg forward and redistributed the weight.
His back was straight.
Chest over his legs, low to the ground as he held a pose.
Arms were flexed as if he were carrying someone (Buddy, perhaps?) in a fish dive ballet form.
Graceful.
Well-practiced.
Showing off what he continued to achieve.
Chase looked up at Buddy from the low position with great confidence and hunger.
Buddy shuddered, like a mouse spotted by a cat, whose elegant stride would be the end of him. He gulped, shrugging off his fluster, composing himself enough to snap a comeback.
“Impressive, you can lift all 868 grams of me,” Buddy responded, and to that Chase smiled, so he clarified, “That is under two pounds, Chase,” and then Chase pouted, letting the pose crumple and himself flop back on the floor in the most dramatic way he could. Buddy covered a snicker.
Chase groaned, “Uhhg, you know that's not what I mean. Not keyple Buddy, human Buddy.”
Chase winced at his own phrasing, crouching on the floor.
Nox gazed out the window, holding himself.
This was a subject that, while they had already talked about it many, many times, they avoided addressing.
There wasn't anything that could be done now.
Not without the rest of the keys,
Not without a steady supply of Narratonin,
Not without curing the wonderful Mrs. Myra.
All of that needed to happen before he could even entertain the idea.
Like the many things in this strange new world,
it all seemed so out of reach.
Buddy frowned. Ah, yes, that was the reason I wanted to be human again. One of many reasons.
Being a keyson meant muted senses.
His existence was hidden from the world.
Trapped in this small, metal body.
A small body that was not well-suited for affection with someone who was human.
Chase walked on his knees near where Nox was on the windowsill, gripped it with his fingertips, and rested his chin there to be at eye level. (Also making a mental note to dust the sill later)
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Chase started with pleading eyes.
Nox interrupted him.
“No, you... are right. My keyple form is inconvenient for many things. I would dance with you if I could,” he sighed, thinking about what it would be like if he could be held in that fish dive, showing off a firm retiré.
Chase quickly countered, “Idunno, I’d say being pocket-sized makes you v e r y convenient. I can take you anywhere. You wouldn’t even have to pay the extra admission to get into dance clubs!” he beamed, then nudged Nox with his knuckle.
Nox put his hands on his hips, popping it to one side. His eyes narrowed, unamused.
Chase shrugged and shook his head, “Anyway, speaking of pocket-sized, do you wanna go with me to the grocery store? I'm out of gluten-free pasta, but I made the sauce yesterday.”
Nox perked up a bit.
Getting out at this size was such a challenge. with such a dense forested area surrounding Chase's home, It would take him ages just to leave Hollow Farm's property.
This offer to take him into the strange new world he found himself in was enticing. His gaze softened. “Fine," he huffed in a haughty voice, "but I want one of the artisanal chocolate bars. To add to my collection.”
Chase chuckled, “Only the best for you, Cookieboo,” and he leaned in to kiss him, stopped short, scrunching his face in a pout.
The agreement.
He whined, “How can you expect me not to kiss you when you are so flippin' cute?” he squeezed the windowsill tighter, kicking his feet against the floor like a child throwing a tantrum.
Buddy scowled. “It's your own fault for your damn ‘Cute Aggression,’” as Chase called it. Nox shook his head at the attempted kiss, even though Chase had successfully diverted it for once.
“Pfft, yours is worse. You get all violent with the snowballs and lightning. Don’t think I didn't notice!” Chase countered, leaning forward.
“Yes, but try having your head bitten off by a giant and not reacting to it,” Nox snapped back, fists at his sides and only inches from Chase's jaw.
Chase pulled back and rubbed his jaw, remembering what happened last week.
Trying to 'gobble up his lil cutie' only to be decked.
That was when The Agreement was made.
The Agreement: Do not use said cute aggression, or most forms of physical affection, while Nox was in his small form.
His love was so close, and still out of reach.
Chase let his hand fall from his face and rested on the windowsill to “hold hands” with Buddy in the only way they could, outside of books.
Nox gently petted his fingertip and rested his cheek against it, giving it a nuzzle before letting Chase withdraw his hand. Chase sighed with a heaviness, blowing a warm breath over Buddy’s face that he scarcely felt.
“We’ll figure it out, I promise," Chase spoke softly.
Nox looked away and nodded. There was a heaviness still in the air that both of them wanted to escape.
Chase was the first to break it. “I um, wanna get out of these,” he tugged at the collar of his sweat-starched shirt, “You think you can ask the other keys what they might want from the store? I really wanna take a shower. I feel gross after practice. Also, uhhh… I’d, um. Like to get ready in my room… alone… by myself… alone,” He coughed and looked away, lightly flushed.
“R-right. Of course. I will ask them whenever you are ready to take me up.” Nox responded.
Chase stood up, towering over him now that he was on his feet again. He rested his hand on the windowsill, palm up, inviting him aboard. He accepted by walking onto his palm, where he was lifted with care and deposited onto Chase’s shoulder.
Out of reach.
Chase was Nox's ornate castle tower, with strong walls to protect him and all he cared for.
Out of reach.
There was the comfort of a soft bed with two down pillows; a space of his own to lie down in front of a hearth that promised love and warmth.
Out of reach.
Large windows were open, giving off a welcoming, honey glow.
Out of reach.
The door was always open, but brick-and-mortar rose over him, climbable,
Yet still out of reach.
Looking up at him was a reminder that a single brick from that tower could flatten him.
Nox reached out and gently touched a tiny fist-sized bruise on the side of Chase's jaw. It was barely noticeable now, but still a present reminder.
Chase reached up to the pull cord, which had been extended by tying a shoelace to it, and brought down the ladder to the little tower.
Nox could barely notice the vibration in Chase's voice as he shouted to the rest of the keys, “Hey guys, I'm comin’ up to drop Buddy off. Let ‘em know if you want anything from the store!” and poked his head through the door, but didn’t come up into the room. Instead, he moved his shoulder to the edge of the floor so Buddy could easily step off his shoulder without being handled again.
Another thing that they had discussed in the recent weeks since he had arrived there.
Chase left Buddy alone with his keyblings while he picked out an outfit and went to take his shower.
This adjustment was difficult for both of them.
Before, they were often physical with each other.
From pokes, jabs, and shoves,
to hair-petting, hugs, and cuddles.
That was before they were officially dating.
As they got to know each other more, inside of books, the more trouble they had doing less.
Trying to hide their courtship from Deacon and Violet.
Deacon, at the very least, suspected that something was up between them.
A suspicion made worse when Chase suddenly “needed to pick up Buddy and Violet from the library” with zero context.
Then, they both discovered Buddy was a key.
Chase, while initially startled by the news, accepted him in the two seconds it took to put together that Nox the Villain key and the Buddy he met in books, were the same person.
He still loved Buddy just as deeply, and still wanted to pursue a relationship with a 5 inch tall man.
But now they faced an unexpected problem...
Their relationship hadn’t changed,
nor the speed of it.
That was the problem...
How do you convey to your newly acquired boyfriend that you love him and wanna smoosh his face with your hands, or Nyam on him when he is 5 inches tall and won’t let you touch him?
The, unfortunate, truth was that Chase did have cute aggression towards him, which Buddy, the human had no problem with, but Nox, the keyson, did.
Holding back took a lot of effort, but it was a boundary Chase made sure to keep.
~Of course this only applied to physical affection~
There were still plenty of other ways to flirt with one another,
and neither held back on that front.
Well
at least when they were alone~