Work Text:
By the time the judge finally called it, nobody in the room had any energy left to celebrate, complain, or even be properly angry.
Three hours of testimony, objections, bad evidence, worse strategies, and Quackity sounding one breath away from giving up on the entire concept of law had drained the courthouse dry.
Chairs scraped back. Papers were gathered in tired hands. The jury looked like they wanted nothing more than to vanish.
Around them, the guests who had shown up for the spectacle started filing out in clumps, their attention already thinning into relief now that the whole mess was finally over. Nobody wanted to stay and watch the aftermath of a trial that had managed to confuse even the people arguing it.
Quackity rubbed at his face like he was trying to wipe the entire case from memory, Tubbo looked exhausted in a way only court could do to a person, and Alondrissa left with the sort of stiff indignation that made it obvious she still believed she had been robbed of something.
Juan stayed put long after the crowd had started to thin, his annoyance only getting sharper as people slipped past him and out of the building.
Foolish, meanwhile, looked infuriatingly calm, like three hours of legal chaos had barely managed to ruffle him.
That alone was enough to make Juan's jaw tighten.
Outside, the sun was lower than it had been when they'd all filed in that morning, sitting deeper in the sky and throwing long shadows off the courthouse steps and the pillars framing the entrance.
The guests who had come to watch had largely already gone, the verdict anticlimactic enough that there wasn't much to linger over, and the island had other things going on.
A few people were still milling at the base of the steps, talking in the scattered way of crowds that haven't quite decided to fully disperse yet.
Foolish spotted Tubbo near the bottom, off to one side as if he were waiting for him.
Foolish came down the last few steps and stopped beside him.
"So," Tubbo said. "We didn't win." He said it like he was still figuring out what that meant.
Foolish tilted his head slightly. "We didn't lose either."
Tubbo made a sound that wasn't quite a laugh but close enough. "The jury told us both we were being idiots and now we have to do homework together. As like. The ruling."
"Community service," Foolish said. "There's a difference."
"Is there?" Tubbo exhaled through his nose, slow and tired. "I have to spend a week building safety passages with Alondrissa."
"And Graf."
"And Graf." Tubbo was quiet for a moment. "Graf, who drove my train, over a woman, and then got to just... leave."
Foolish watched his face, the frustration and confusion mingling in the set of his jaw. "He's still getting a sorta punishment," Foolish said with a shrug. "Even if nobody ended up suing him directly."
Tubbo nodded once, like he was trying to accept that. "I mean yeah but still..."
Foolish considered it. "It could've been worse."
Before Tubbo could answer, a hand closed tight around Foolish's arm and yanked him sideways.
"Wha—" Foolish twisted, off‑balance, and found Juan's hand gripping his sleeve, his eyes hard and determined.
"Shut up," Juan snapped. "Ven."
"Oh, uh." Foolish looked back at Tubbo over his shoulder and managed a wave, a sort of helpless goodbye gesture that probably didn't communicate much beyond this is happening and I'm not totally sure why.
Tubbo watched them go, blinked once, and decided that was absolutely not his problem. He shrugged and headed back to the Regime.
Juan didn't let go. He dragged Foolish around the side of the courthouse, away from the crowd, away from the noise, not stopping until they had reached the shadowed side of the building.Then he let go, spun around, and faced him. His chest was rising a little faster than the short walk warranted.
"Qué fue eso," Juan snapped.
"That," Foolish said, straightening his jacket where the grip had pulled it crooked, "was a court case."
"That," Juan said, "was three hours of my life. Three hours, Foolish." He held up three fingers, directly in Foolish's face, like he might not be familiar with the number. "Tres horas. Gone. I'm never getting them back."
"Yeah, well," Foolish looked at the three fingers and then at Juan. "I was also there you know."
"Then you should be just as mad," Juan snapped, dropping his hand but not stepping away, "at how we both got screwed over in there!"
"Technically we didn't lose. The case just got dismissed—"
"A dismissal," Juan cut in, stepping forward, "is still a loss. It's just a loss without directly saying it."
Foolish tilted his head, considering it with the kind of genuine thoughtfulness that was somehow more aggravating than if he'd just laughed. "I mean, community service isn't the worst outcome if you think about it—"
"Alondrissa was run over by a train!" Juan shouted it loud and clear, like maybe Foolish had forgotten. "By Tubbo's stupid train! And we walked out of there with all three of them building safety crossings together like that's somehow justice."
“What do you want me to do about it? It’s over.” Foolish scoffed under his breath. “The judge already decided. And the safety crossings aren’t a bad idea.”
Juan stared at him.
Foolish looked back, completely unbothered.
"One of the new rules," Juan continued, voice lower now but no less sharp, "basically tells Alondrissa it was her own fault for getting hit."
"Because she was standing on the tracks."
"Tracks that shouldn't have been there in the first place!" Juan stepped closer, close enough that Foolish had to actually look down at him. "And there were no signs on those tracks. None."
Foolish exhaled through his nose. "Okay, yeah, no signs, that's true, I'll give you that. But Juan." He gestured vaguely. "There were still tracks. Big visible tracks. And she went and stood on them anyway. On an active railway. All on her own. That's kind of on her."
"You're really gonna stand there and blame a poor woman who lost her child?" Juan's voice went flat with disbelief. "You saying she purposely got her little George killed? You are a fucking monster, Foolish."
"Woah hey, no that's not what I said!"
"Un monstruo sin corazón." Juan shook his head disapprovingly and turned away half a step.
"Signs or no signs, standing on a railway is still a choice," Foolish said, and then something shifted in his expression, like he'd just remembered something useful. "And it seems she has a habit of it, actually. There was photo evidence of her building an entire wall across those tracks."
Juan turned back. "That was a protest after she got hit. She was trying to show the train couldn't just run people over without consequences and demanded compensation for her suffering."
Foolish shifted his weight. "Putting a wall in front of the train isn't making it any safer."
Juan stared at him, the frustration sharpening into something almost bewildered. "You," he said slowly, like he was stating a fact he still couldn't believe, "told the court there were no rules against running someone over with a train."
"Because there weren't" Foolish said, tilting his head like it was obvious. "Which is why Tubbo isn't in the wrong for just owning a train that technically had no safety regulations yet."
"You said it like it was a joke. Like you were proud of it." Juan said, voice tighter now.
Foolish's mouth curved. A small, infuriating smirk slipped through. "I am proud," he said. "It was a valid legal argument. I pointed it out and next thing you know, there's a new rule. You're welcome."
"Oh, congratulations," Juan shot back, the words dripping with sarcasm. "Congratu‑fucking‑lations, Foolish, you made it technically legal to run someone over with a train right up until today. That's a wonderful achievement."
Foolish's eyebrow lifted. "Yeah, well. At least I got something productive to come out of this case."
"Something productive," Juan repeated, like the words were physical insults. "My client is doing community service with the person whose train ran her over and you're talking about being productive?"
"Both our clients are doing community service!" Foolish threw a hand out. "I keep saying this! You keep not hearing it!"
"It is not the same thing!" Juan paced a tight circle and came back. "Alondrissa came in there as the victim. She got run over, lost her baby, her home got moved without her permission—"
"Her castle was on the tracks!"
"It was there first and should not have been touched!"
"She stole the train, Juan." Foolish spread his hands. "You can't steal a train and then act surprised when things escalate."
"You think stealing a train is a bigger problem than running someone over with one?"
"I think stealing a train is insane regardless of the context, yes—"
"Unbelievable." Juan let out a short, sharp sound that wasn't quite a laugh. "You are actually unbelievable, Foolish."
"Thank you," Foolish said.
Juan stared at him. "That was not a compliment." The anger in his face went quiet for a second, narrowing into something more pointed.
"Did you bribe him, Foolish."
Foolish blinked. "What?"
"Quackity." Juan's eyes were steady on his. "Did you bribe Quackity?"
"Are you — " Foolish made a disbelieving sound and actually looked offended. "No! Juan! I did not bribe the judge!"
"No te creo."
"I genuinely did not—"
"There is no way he dismissed it like that unless someone did something," Juan said, stepping forward again. "Our side was solid. Tubbo literally sued the victim. You should not have been able to walk out of that clean."
"Or," Foolish said, holding his ground, "you screwed up so badly that Judge Quackity just gave up on the whole thing."
"Me!? I didn't screw anything up. That was you!"
"Oh, like you didn't have Graf as your first witness come up and confess that he was the one who ran over Alondrissa? That surely helped plenty, Juan."
Juan's jaw tightened. "It was meant to help Alondrissa!"
"How?" Foolish asked. "How does your witness confessing help? He just told the whole room he did it, and then Quackity looked around and went so why is this guy not the defendant, and you had no answer for that!"
"Esa rata was supposed to—" The words were out before Juan caught them, and Foolish watched him realize it immediately, watched the slight change in his face.
Foolish's eyebrows went up very slowly. The grin that followed was enormous. "Supposed to?"
"Forget it." Juan hissed, turning his head away.
"No, wait, wait, wait—" Foolish stepped closer, head tilting, energy shifting into something delighted. "You and Graf had a little arrangement going on?"
"I didn't say that."
"You kind of said that—"
"Dije que lo olvides!" Juan snapped.
"Graf was supposed to say something else, wasn't he!" Foolish was already laughing, reading it off Juan's face. "Was he supposed to pin it all on Tubbo?"
"You don't know what you're talking about," Juan said, and shoved his shoulder, which accomplished nothing except making Foolish laugh harder.
"Graf didn't follow through and left you hanging!"
"Shut up, Foolish." Juan warned.
"And then you had the nerve," Foolish added, poking Juan's shoulder once just to tease him further, "of accussing me of playing dirty and bribing Quackity!"
"That is completely different!" Juan swatted his hand away.
"How is it different?!"
"Because it just is, idiota!"
"No, you are just mad Graf bailed on you!" Foolish said, leaning in as he said it, grinning like he'd won something. "I bet he was gonna make something up just like you've for the past 3 hours—"
"Que te calles!"
"But he screwed you over," Foolish continued, "and now you're just taking it out on me because you—"
Juan couldn't stand that smug, beautiful look on Foolish's face for one more second. He grabbed the front of Foolish's shirt, yanked the taller totem hybrid down and slammed their mouths together.
For one second Foolish just froze, caught completely off guard for possibly the first time all day.
Then he kissed back harder.
Juan’s breath hitched, sharp and involuntary, and his grip only tightened, fingers twisting into the fabric like he needed something solid to hold onto.
Their teeth knocked at first, clumsy and off‑angle, all leftover frustration and adrenaline from the day still burning through him.
The world narrowed down to the heat of Foolish’s mouth. Juan didn’t even think about the fact that they were still standing right behind the courthouse. He just wanted Foolish to stop talking and stop looking so annoyingly smug.
Juan shoved forward, forcing Foolish back until his shoulders hit the cold stone wall of the courthouse. It was a messy, desperate attempt to take control, needing to win something today.
Foolish made a sound against his mouth between surprise and a laugh and then his hands found Juan's waist and yanked him in the rest of the way.
They were both half suffocating and catching jagged breaths whenever they could.
Juan had one hand in Foolish's shirt and the other found its way into his hair, fingers tugging at the strands with a restless and frantic energy.
Foolish tilted his head to get a better angle and his sharp teeth caught Juan's lower lip, grazing, taunting, before he bit down just hard enough to draw a muffled gasp.
Juan didn't pull away. If anything, the sting only made him more desperate, and his mouth fell open in a silent, shaky breath.
Foolish took the opening immediately, his tongue sliding in to deepen the kiss, and Juan's knees nearly gave out for a second. A low, unsteady moan slipped out of Juan before he could stop it, the sensation hitting all at once.
His grip in Foolish’s hair turned uneven, tugging just a little too hard before easing again, like he couldn’t decide whether to pull him closer or push him away.
They broke apart just long enough to breathe, air coming in short, uneven pulls, before closing the distance again.
Somewhere in all of that, the desperation just quietly ran out. Hands had stopped gripping and started holding.
The kiss slowed by degrees, softer now, careful, almost sweet.
Foolish let his grip on Juan's waist loosen, thumbs tracing slow against his sides like he wasn't even thinking about it.
It was then that Juan realized.
The change.
His hands hesitated, stilling where they were, and something cold slipped in under everything else.
The memory of Cucurucho flashed through his mind, sharp and unwelcome. Given the way things had ended with him, he doubted his heart could handle whatever this was becoming.
It wasn't that he didn't trust the totem in front of him. He just didn't trust the silence that usually followed moments like this.
Juan pulled back abruptly, breath uneven, boots scraping against the ground as he stumbled half a step away. His hand flew to his mouth like he could undo it, erase it, pretend it hadn’t just happened.
His chest was heaving. He could feel the heat in his face without needing to see it, burning all the way to the tips of his ears.
Foolish stayed against the wall. Hair a disaster, golden skin flushed, watching Juan with a dazed and uncharacteristically quiet expression.
"Juan? You okay?"
“I just—” Juan swallowed, straightening his glasses with more force than necessary. “I have things to do. Important work.”
The words came out too fast. Too thin.
“I’ve wasted enough time on this case already.”
Foolish blinked, like he was still catching up. He pushed himself off the wall, clearing his throat, voice rough when he spoke.
“Right," he said, the word trailing off into a raspy exhale. "Yeah. Work. Obviously. I'll... just let you get to that."
Juan nodded sharply, eyes landing everywhere except Foolish's face. He turned to leave and made it exactly two steps before stopping.
"I'll be in my office," he muttered. "If you need me."
Before Foolish could even respond, Juan took off. He left the courthouse grounds in a hurry, like staying any longer would make it worse.
Foolish didn’t move right away.
After a second, he lifted a hand, brushing his thumb over his lower lip.
A quiet, almost disbelieving laugh slipped out of him, and he wasn't entirely sure what it meant.
He stayed there a moment longer than he needed to.
Then he headed back to his dragon.