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Absolute disbelief.
That’s what’s Ze’s feeling right now.
More accurately, it’s in response to the sheer absurdity of the situation he’s currently in. If you told him way in the past that he’d be staring at his screen speaking and even joking with ‘entities’ in his Minecraft world, he would have outright ignored you.
Well, Ze believes them when they say they’re entities.
They could just be viruses, maybe a trojan from one of those times Ze tried to pirate a movie off the internet. He never really was the ‘techy type.’ Never had the time when he was younger to learn.
But viruses aren’t known for conversations like the ones Ze has had with the two. How easily they switch from ruthless banter to meaningful conversation. After the whole eyes debacle, he never expected them to take it with the amount of seriousness they do now.
He knew they cared a little bit, but man did that talk make it click.
Maybe they’re just figments of his imagination. A roundabout way of his brain trying to make company without having to actually risk talking to people. Nah, scratch that. No way his brain would purposefully make one of his “friends-to-be” so annoying.
Or maybe, it’s the eyes again. And all of this is fake. And he’s still in that hole—
“Ze? You good? Is he zoning out again…?”
Ze shakes his head clear of any doubt and refocuses his gaze, looking back at the screen. Regect’s whispering to a concerned Moe. Ze tries to defuse their worry quickly after noticing.
“Sorry, what was it?”
“We need your choice on decor in this new house. You’re the final vote. Fante’s uh… original choices are—“
A loud, irritated yet familiar honk echoes from behind him through his headset. Ze sets his chair forward to join in on whatever nonsense they were doing now.
Hm.
Red or blue curtains?
“Moe thinks blue curtains would look nicer but like, red curtains would be sick, y’know? Probably not, your old bases were never the best in my opinion.”
“Asshole.”
Ze assesses the two choices. Red would look sick, but does that fit in this type of house? And that would entail having to agree with Regect. Besides, the red curtains in this mod are duller than expected… Blue is brighter and makes Ze feel—
What the hell is he doing?
Ze has spent the last few nights up at ungodly hours just by being with Moe and Regect. The sleep deprivation has been hitting hard, even bleeding into other aspects of his daily life. Socializing, focusing, and basic overall functioning. Granted, he was trying to catch up on lost time with the two after weeks of being apart… but man he could literally just close his game, take his headset off, and collapse. So why isn’t he?
…
Well uh, Regect would be testy if Ze left now. That’s why he’s staying talking about the colour of the curtains. It’s because these guys really care for him, in way Ze will not expand on. Ze clears his throat to try to will down the utter warmth in his gut. This… feeling has unfortunately been a common occurrence as of late when it comes to Regect. Ze’s sure it’ll pass.
“I think red would look nice.”
The kitchen is in absolute disarray.
Bowls strewn about all filled with different mixes. The curtains, splattered with both icing and dough, staining through the dyed fabric. The smell of the room being a maelstrom of sickening sweetness.
And in the center of it all?
“Ze. How do you make a cake.”
Sigh.
Ze skims through the cooking mod’s description to figure out how to craft a ‘recipe book’ while snacking on day-old chips. His pantry has needed some cleaning anyways, so he’s getting a start on it. See? Productive.
“Why are you baking a cake anyways…” Ze drawls absentmindedly as he checks their storage room. He wasn’t expecting a response, but he got one.
“I get bored y’know… you’re not here all the time. Me and Moe can’t exactly leave like you can.”
Hm.
It makes sense, as Ze thinks deeper on it. They aren’t players like him. They don’t have bodies to return to. Instead, they’re chained to this server and to this computer. Ze doesn’t like how that makes him feel.
He tries not to dwell on it, busying himself with searching for the materials needed to craft the recipe book.
“Did you make the recipe book or not yet? Geez…”
”One of these days, I am going to fight you. And win.”
“I actually wouldn’t mind a spar.”
Ze walks in, setting the book down as he starts reciting from it. He’s already planning to keep the book in the kitchen for future use, maybe in an item frame for easy access. Ze’s sure Regect and Moe will get plenty use out of it. Might as well save them the trouble of crafting. Speaking of Regect, he’s already moved onto his cake making, stirring aggressively as he cracks in some eggs. But his words linger, creeping back into Ze’s head.
What did they get up to when he wasn’t there?
Ze doesn’t really get FOMO. He’s always been just fine on his own. It’s more curious than fearful if anything, any worry replaced with an adamant wonder.
“Ze, preheat the oven?”
He does, as per Regect’s request, but his thoughts have not drifted. He’ll have to ask about it tomorrow. In the meantime, Ze continues helping with baking, ignoring how that familiar feeling creeps back in. That same… giddiness. Granted, it’s a pretty peaceful evening. Baking with a friend is almost always a great time but the air feels charged with something Ze either can’t name or won’t name. Something neither of them would dare to point out.
How did Regect even get sick?
When Ze logged on that evening, he didn’t even believe him at first. Now? He’s looking in disbelief at Regect’s shadowy form as it shudders with every cough that wracks his body. Every sneeze like a grenade went off within the void of his ribcage. He’s bundled up on his bed with an ice pack where his forehead would be. If he had a head at all.
“Moe’s making soup for you downstairs, okay?“
“Just pass me more blankets…”
Instead of being congested like most sick voices, Regect’s only gets more glitchy. More compressed and deep fried. The audio attacks Ze’s ears with the sheer grittiness, as if ran through a bitcrusher ten times in a row. It’s an interesting auditory experience.
To his request, Ze supplies Regect with a mountain of blankets and pillows as he starts voicing his original questions.
“How did you catch the flu? It’s not like I downloaded a diseases mod. Why would I want the common cold in my game?”
“We work differently compared to you! It’s not even technically a cold…” Regect sniffles and turns over flippantly.
Ze rolls his eyes. As he looks at his screen, he lets himself daydream leaving the game right there. Just click right to menu and bam. Free from this whiny man.
He doesn’t though.
“S’ there tea downstairs?”
“I’m sure I can find some.”
Ze shuffles through the cupboards and chests for anything resembling a tea bag. He walks back up, tea cup in hand and biscuits in the other. The bed sinks under Ze’s weight as he sits next to Regect’s shivering body, setting the snacks down between them. Guess now’s a better time than ever to pop the question from a few days ago.
“Hey, Regect? What do you two do when I’m not online?”
Regect stills, and looks at him with either hesitation or concern. The lack of anything resembling a face is really unhelpful. He pauses before speaking, his gaze seemingly downcast.
“Oh. Well I just y’know… fly around, build, that kinda stuff. Cool stuff, because I’m cool. And uh well more recently, baking. You know that already though…”
The monotonous tone in his voice is the biggest clue in for Ze, and really the only clue he has besides the other’s restrained body movements. Ze doesn’t mind. If Regect doesn’t want to talk about it to him, whatever it is, he doesn’t have to. And that’s if it’s anything at all.
Regect continues to snack on the biscuits. As he eats, the biscuit seems to just… vanish in shapes of bite marks.
“Moe does… Moe things. She’s been on those computers we crafted recently. I think she’s been gaming or something.”
Ze wasn’t sure what he was expecting from asking but this provides some insight at least. It… humanizes the two entities. A little bit. Like they aren’t just half-ghost stories that appeared in his Minecraft world.
Picturing Moe on the computer playing games is amusing. Picturing Regect in the kitchen baking cookies is…
That same warmth twists in his gut, hotter and more expansive. Crawling, spreading, creeping into the inner corners of his heart, seeping outwards to infect his face with a burning feeling. And because of what? What the hell was making his body react that way? The mental image of Regect baking of all things should not entail any—
Oh he’s fucked.
Ze loves doing Moe’s makeup. He can really just go wild with it.
There’s specific dyes that Moe loves. Warm colours for blush, cool colours for eyeshadow, and white for foundation! Eyeliner for her is an accessory, an outfit maker, and a must. It’s Ze’s favourite part of the entire process.
They’re on the couch, Ze deep in concentration and Moe happily letting him help. He might get carpal tunnel from how hard he’s gripping onto the mouse, but straight lines are needed.
No deviation from the task at hand!
…
The warmth is returning.
It’s that same bubbling feeling of straight fire deep in his body, punching his heart in time with the accelerating beats. His foot is restless. His heart’s racing. It’s getting too hot. Thoughts a blur of shadows, of hands, and of—
Ze quickly stops himself before making Moe’s eyelid a heart rate monitor. What the hell was that?
Honk?
“Yeah, I don’t what that was either Moe…”
Ze sets his chair back and looks away from the monitor, making a quick excuse for his absence. His foot has thankfully stopped tapping but his heart only races faster. The thumping so clear and so loud, it’s all up into his eardrums.
Once he reaches an acceptable state of calmness is when he starts thinking. What caused that sudden rush?
The only answer Ze can come up with is one he doesn’t like the sound of at all. When his thoughts began drifting to a certain guy he really doesn’t want to name, his body went into overdrive. Surely this doesn’t mean what Ze thinks it does?
That the cause of this is Regect of all people?
…
“Moe! Do you know where Ze is? I want to take him up on that sparring thing he mentioned a few days ago.”
Thank goodness for that interruption.
“Y’know I was mostly joking when I said that?”
“Psh, are you a coward or something? Or is it because you know I’ll destroy you so easily it’ll look fake?”
Ze’s not doing much today. He’s absolutely down for putting Regect in his place.
“Nevermind. We’re doing this.”
Regect seemed to lighten up with a competitive pleasure at his words.
“Outside. Sticks only, no swords. Now.”
In a matter of seconds, Regect rushes outside. Ze sighs and instead focuses on finishing Moe’s makeup first. It’s easier to focus as instead of distracting himself with thoughts like before, he can entertain himself with thoughts of winning.
As he walks outside to where Regect waits, he continues this train of thought. How satisfying his win will be. How much challenge the sticks will add. How many matches there’ll be time for. How the rush of the fight will feel. How focused Regect will be, his breathing heavy and voice tinged with frustration. How good it’d feel to win against him, especially with how competitive Regect is. He’d probably get pissy, and hopefully enough for a touch. Maybe a swat or a shove, anything he can do right back. It’s astounding how easily playfighting can turn into eyes on eyes, hands on hands, mouths on—
He needs to stop blushing. He needs to get realistic. He needs to calm down. Yet, despite himself, Ze finds he mourns for touches he’ll never be able to have.
Fuck.
He logs off earlier that day.
“I can’t believe Moe’s dominating this.”
The past few days, Ze’s priorities have been on helping Moe and Regect figure out how they could move onto other applications on his computer. The first few attempts were unsuccessful but eventually they managed to be able to see onto Ze’s screen while keeping communication. They were even able to interact with whatever game was playing on his monitor.
Which is how they were watching Moe absolutely destroy COD ranked lobbies. It was beautiful.
Ze was familiar with the game as he was a fan of first person shooters. He knew his way around a gun after all so he wasn’t the worst in their trio. Far from it.
“This is bullshit!”
The other side of this spectrum was Regect, who lost every single match he’s played in yet.
“Skill issue.” Ze teases. Maybe some trash talk will get him in high gear.
Regect goes off on another rant as Ze acts as Moe’s audience. Ze’s account has never been ranking up so fast. And Moe was a damn quick learner.
The hours continue with Moe and Ze switching between playing and being a captive watcher. Seeing Moe honk in utter mad delight at winning yet another match left Ze grinning wide.
There was a small little hiccup half-way through a lobby waiting time however.
Ze realizes he hasn’t heard from Regect. In a while. Must have been around 40-60 minutes according to Ze’s memory.
“Regect? You still uh… here..? Don’t get pissy now.”
… Nothing. “Seriously man, don’t disappear without saying something. I thought we said we wouldn’t do that.”
It was shortly after the first baking evening. Him, Regect, and Moe were all cleaning the absolute mess they made per Fante’s request. Moe had gone out earlier but neither him or Regect knew about it... which turned into a frantic search around the house and the surrounding area. It was actually how the mess happened to begin with, but after they agreed to always inform one another.
There was no response for a bit. Well, not for long at least. A new window opened on Ze’s screen. Who the hell was trying to video call him?
Tentatively, Ze answered.
“Holy shit it worked! Moe look, scooch over!” It was Regect.
“How the hell are you guys calling me from Minecraft?!” Ze is bewildered. Really, that is the most accurate description.
“I have my ways, Ze! I just can’t believe they worked… Fuck man. Can you open your webcam like us? I—we think it’d be nice now that we actually can.”
Ze’s still tense as he takes in the sight. For some reason, seeing Regect and Moe like this feels infinitely more personal. Ze can see the crinkles in Moe’s face when she smiles, especially how defined they get the bigger the grin. How Regect’s shadowy form shakes in excitement at the mere prospect of this even working. It’s like he’s beaming.
He opens his webcam.
“Woah… your room looks like shit.”
“I’m glad that’s what you focus on.”
Ze shrinks under Moe and Regects surprised eyes. He raises a hand to his chin, covering most of his lower face as his gaze shifts to himself in the monitor. If he knew this was happening, he would have chosen clothes that weren’t his pajamas and he definitely would have tidied things up in ghe background. Maybe practiced some more self care while he’s at it…
It’s dark in his room, the only light being from the computer screen and the moon through the closed shutters. He can only wonder what they’re thinking as they look upon his real face. Regect’s staring hard and still, and Ze can already imagine what insults he’s cooking up about the state of his room and about himself. He scoffs as an anticipatory reaction.
He turns off his webcam quickly after that, to their discontent.
“Aww, don’t be lame.”
“I don’t need to hear about what else you think about my room.”
“Moron, you really think that’s where I’m fucking looking?”
Ze doesn’t turn it back on, yet he stays on the call. Just seeing the other two in this perspective is captivating. He didn’t realize how important this would be to the two of them, but he supposes seeing his real face rather than the skin he uses would have some value. Lo and behold, it did!
It was 3 hours after the call where Ze’s thoughts began to betray him again.
Truly a nightmare.
Closing his eyes only made the images appear clearer. Bundling up made the fantasies more rampant. Rolling over in bed made his mind fall deeper into itself and Ze had to come to an uncomfortable realization.
He can’t keep lying to himself.
Every night, he’s been adamantly pushing down anything resembling adoration. It’s getting tiring.
Ze stares at the ceiling, hands fidgeting with the blankets, body shifting every two seconds on his bed. It’s like there’s a fucking beehive in his stomach. The warm, nay explosive feeling in his gut, similar to the movements of an angry swarm. The tightness in his throat filtering any words trying to slip out as if slicked with honey.
Ze rubs his temples in slow, frustrated circles as he tries to be proactive, thinking up a plan.
Bottle it up? From past experience, this one works the best however it also comes with sharp, stabbing pains in his heart every time he forces certain affectionate words down his throat. His head hurts as if bracing for it already.
Confess? The riskiest and the scariest, but the potential outcome is the most exciting. Damn it, why is he even excited at the prospect of that future? Ze coughs, hitting his chest to placate his unease.
Ghost and never see the two anymore?
…
Yeah no. He won’t do that to them.
Ze sighs and turns off his lamp rolling over. Too much thinking for a time that late. He’ll sleep on it.
“Your apartment is lame as shit, Ze.”
Sunlight streams through the window blinds of Ze’s small home. The blank grey walls being painted with orange sunbeams as Ze bumbles about the kitchen. He usually keeps the blinds closed, though sometimes he can’t be bothered.
He’s making breakfast. Toast and the leftovers of last night’s takeout. His phone is set up on one of the upper cabinets, providing a clear view of the space to Regect. A few days earlier, Ze managed to make the two of them able to see through his phone’s camera with another simple call.
It made the whole ordeal feel ten times more real.
Ze could rationalize all of this way easier when it was just them in the Minecraft server or just them in his computer instead of them spreading to the other parts of his already small and contained life. Much easier to write it all off.
That same warmth reappears, higher up on his body this time attacking his face with fire. This was going to be a real problem.
“I don’t have much to spend on decoration.”
Ze remarks as he shovels a spoonful of sugar onto his buttered toast. In the time passed since that night, he did eventually choose a course of action. He will be informing Regect of these feelings soon.
Not confession. What he said originally was a poor choice of words.
The real trouble was finding a time where Regect was alone. Ze was sure he could get Moe’s help on this if he just pushed past his dignity, but damn did his brain make this hard. Why Regect? His mind chose such a little shit to obsess over and for what reason!
“That looks so good.”
“Such a shame you can’t eat it huh?”
Ze smirks, and takes another bite. He feels like being annoying today. A sort of revenge against his traitorous subconscious.
Regect just scoffs.
He looks upset. It’s a very convincing facade, quivering with only faux anger. Only those unfamiliar with his antics could be tricked. It’s amusing to the point that Ze’s openly snickering at his phone.
“Moe’s making breakfast for us right now. Without you. Loser.”
“Mmm. Minecraft food. Real delicious. I can almost taste the pixels.”
Regect pauses. “No way! Does that mean you haven’t tasted Moe’s cooking? Aw no wonder you’re such a little bitch! You’re missing out.”
Ze feels himself roll his eyes. He was too slow to stop his smile.
“Describe the taste to me.”
Ze sets his phone down, spending his breakfast absentmindedly listening to Regect ramble on and on about the flavour complexities of Moe’s culinary artistry like it’s a podcast. It’s weirdly calming, even though it’s just him going on and on about spices and herbs. Ze doesn’t even feel his grin grow wider with every passing second. He could get used to this every morning…
That’s it. Tomorrow, he’s going to confe—inform Regect. And hope this doesn’t blow up in his face.
Ze was bored out of his mind.
He chews on the inside of his cheek as he assesses the situation. Currently, he’s in the middle of a fishing trip Moe wanted to go on. The boat’s custody of Fante’s and the wizard himself made sure to tell the three of them to be careful. Fishing in this game was never the most riveting. In the past 15 minutes, all he’s caught is a stack of cod, half a stack of pufferfish, and an entire army of salmon.
Ze did tell Moe about his unfortunate issue.
She merely honked in amusement. Not very funny in Ze’s opinion but Moe was having a blast. At least she didn’t have a negative reaction to the news. He really didn’t want to deal with that sort of aftermath.
The lake starts to reflect some of the pink in the sky as a breeze twists through the air around the boat. Fuck, was this a drag. He never dealt well with having downtime. It always felt a little uncomfortable.
He sets his chair back, switching his view from the monitor to outside where similarly, it was also sunset. Golden light streamed in from the skies out his window. He opens the blinds a bit more in response.
Mm.
At least Regect and Moe seemed to be pleased with this evening. Regect even seemed to be swaying his body in sheer contentment. Ze acknowledged how good the sight made him feel but stubbornly did not move with him. A small rebellion.
Ze has officially made a plan with Moe’s guidance, after she stopped her giggling. The steps were very simple and Moe made it clear how she was willing to help Ze in any way possible. First—
Splash!
Ze’s body, eyes, and chair click back into awareness. Looking into the lake was a flailing mess of arms. Water was spraying everywhere as Regect tried to crawl back onto the boat. How did he slip?
“Fuck fuck fuck—Ze! Help me damnit!”
One of Regect’s frantic hands grabs onto Ze’s ankles and Ze knows his fate. It’s only a matter of time before he gets pulled in too, which does happen like three seconds later.
Arms curl around Ze’s torso as he tries to swim quickly out of the water, fingers pressing furiously onto the keyboard. The waves, however, push the two of them deeper into the lake’s center. Away from Moe and the boat. Ze struggles to fight against gravity as Regect continues his stream of expletives.
Ze eventually surfaces, his head reemerging from the depths. On his back was Regect, who was holding onto him like a wet cat would.
“Sorry man… Shit! Where the hell is the boat?!”
The sheer proximity of Regect’s voice in Ze’s headphones sends a familiar shiver down his spine. Why did he have to be on his back? Regect’s voice was glitchy and hoarse from yelling, like that time he fell sick a few weeks ago. Ze could listen to it all—
Not the time.
Ze looks around and spots the boat turning in circles as Moe fiddles with the steering wheel, her scattered honks coated in worry and panic. It was quite a ways away. Ze exhales in anticipation, and hoists Regect up so he could have a better grip. Ze starts swimming back, albeit very slow from the fact Regect is quite literally on him.
Regect was surprisingly quiet the whole time, just shivering in silence. Ze sneaks a glance, looking at him and it appears Regect is just... staring at him. Why the hell is he staring so hard?
“Tch… can’t you just fly or something?!”
“Hah! Well, you know.”
…
Bastard.
Well… guess that right now is a pretty good time to bring it up. Ze swallows down the hesitation in his throat and forces himself to just rip off the bandage. What he was going to say before he got rudely interrupted were the tips he made himself remember.
First, say it clearly with no risk of misinterpretation.
Second, be as ‘matter-of-factly’ as possible without showing his true opinions on this issue.
Third, ease into it. Please do not say it out of nowhe—
“I like you.”
Well that works too.
“Uh I would hope so, Ze? Aren’t we good?”
“Not like that, moron. I… ugh.”
Ze has never felt more like an idiot. He’s blushing. Not a massive amount in his opinion. Just to the point of having to set his chin in his hands as a mask. Even though Regect can’t see him, the cover is almost necessary for him to even continue. His other hand reaches to tug at his collar. Why the hell is he getting so hot? Ze swallows his pride to keep talking but only gets cut off.
“Oh. Ohhh.”
Fuck.
Ze shuts his eyes forcefully in embarrassment as Regect starts snickering. Which turns into laughing.
Which turns into cackling.
Ze considers throwing his headphones off, but he doesn’t. It’s truly a shame how Regect’s voice specifically sends sparks flying through him. Like a kiss without the proximity. If only there were a fucking way for them to touch.
The warmth in his gut has spread everywhere now. He misses the days where it was stuck inside, contained like a dangerous virus. Before it started spreading. Now, his skin feels like it’s blazing.
He tugs his collar more.
“If we’re doing this, we’re doing this properly. Open your webcam, I wanna see you say it.”
“Asshole.”
“I’m being serious.”
Regect summons up a screen of blue, transparent code. It’s the way they use to talk between Ze’s real world and the game. A digital communicator of sorts. It was a miracle at the time. In this situation, it seems more like a curse as the call window appears on his monitor.
“I’m not turning on my camera.”
“Please? I want to see you confess your undying love and adoration for me and how I simply prevail to be the best! Don’t worry, I’ll say it back.”
“You’re being a dick.“
A pause. Exactly 3 seconds before Ze caves.
“Holy shit man! Your face is so red!”
Regect’s chuckling, each laugh interrupting himself as he spoke. Ze scoffs, yet he can’t help but smile stupidly wide at the sight of Regect beaming again. How his shoulders quiver with each snicker that leaves his mouth. How his body, usually void in colour, seems brighter, more vibrant in the sunset glow. Thank goodness for shaders.
“I… have come to tolerate you. The time we spend together… is appreciated.”
“Wow. Romantic.”
Ze swats him in the shoulder muttering a quick ‘fuck you’ without any of the venom. He feels lighter now.
Regect and Ze were closer to the boat now, but still a while away. The sun has continued on its track downwards, the lake bathed in orange akin to Ze’s view out his window. Maybe he’s not opposed to keeping the blinds open.
Ze sneaks another look at Regect, who was positively shining with unashamed glee.
“Really, it was inevitable.”
“I’m having second thoughts—“
Regect interrupts, sinking closer to him and resting his chin on Ze’s shoulders. His hands slink under Ze’s arms and Ze is reminded of their reality. He grimaces at this lack of anything. Regect can sense his disappointment.
“It’s not the best of situations… but we can make it work. You just had to fall for someone stuck in a game huh?“
“You made it surprisingly easy.”
Regect laughed, though it was more bittersweet than anything. Tinged with restrained sadness. Ze closes his eyes, letting the audio act as his physical contact. A flimsy replacement, but one he’s come to cherish.
“I’ll bake another cake when we get back home.”
“Tell me how it tastes again.”