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Wemmbu makes his way back to where the rest of the party awaits, heavy feet staggering behind as his head replays what Minute asked of him before he left over and over again.
Oh, and give Spoke a hug for me.
Cause that’s the world’s most normal ask. That’s what everyone wishes upon stars for. Yeah, giving Spoke hugs— annoying, squirmy Spoke. Looking him in his empty, creepy eyes and wrapping two arms around him, should be easy enough. That’s how hugs go, right?
A fucking hug. MinuteTech, guardian of the End; keeper of an entire dimension of the world’s biggest server, Unstable’s most auraful player even if Wemmbu would really like to deny it, wants a hug delivered all the way over to Spoke. Of like, all people.
What’s up with these two anyways? Minute often sours up when Spoke is mentioned, his eyes get all weird and sorrowful— which is weird for pretty much devoid and expressionless eyes. Always monotone and flat, yet they somehow look like they’d belong on the face of a sad puppy when Spoke’s the subject at hand.
And Spoke, Spoke thinks he’s real slick with it. Which is funny given that Wemmbu is nowhere near observant, yet he doesn’t miss how Spoke’s tail lashes in a panic every time Wemmbu or Egg bring up Minute around him. Once even dropping whatever he was holding and making a mess at the mere mention of the End.
He’s able to contain however he feels about this somehow better than Minute, crazy that Spoke can do anything better than Minute, but he’s always been known to be quite the liar. So it’s not very shocking that his poker face holds up to his reputation.
Wemmbu’s spent too much time around Spoke if he’s able to read him now. And pretty much any amount of time around Spoke is too much. Oh well, he’s actively headed for more. And now he’s expected to hug the bunny.
How is he meant to go through with doing that?
Another can of worms Wemmbu wouldn’t like to address right now but is kind of being forced to, is that Wemmbu has not a single clue how a hug works.
He’s not one to blame, he tends to physically express his affection by macing Egg (after making sure he’s clutching tight onto a totem) and beating the fuck out of Flame— which usually doesn’t go too well for him either.
Wemmbu just doesn’t… hug.
That’s a Parrot thing, probably. He has even seen Flame hugging a bunch of times before. It’s just not his thing. His thing is Gambit. Crucible. Orbitals. Eggchan, maybe.
On another hand, Minute never asks for anything. He’s always the one offering, helping, providing— the fact that Wemmbu managed to somehow catch him slipping and requesting something in itself is beyond belief.
And it makes sense, Minute can’t really leave the End, not long enough to just go and give Spoke a hug apparently. And realistically, Wemmbu knows that it’s probably true. This server’s known for only its chaos, and in the mere hour Minute could stop by Spoke’s to catch up and snuggle or whatever the hell those two do (probably fight some more), the entire End island could end up in ruins.
So, yeah, Wemmbu will give Spoke a hug for Minute. Can’t be that hard. Doesn’t sound that crazy. He can do something for Minute.
Parrot would be really good at this, he’d know just what to do. Spoke’s always in Parrot’s business regardless, isn’t he? All handsy and affectionate— Parrot doesn’t push him away, and for all Wemmbu knows he probably likes it too.
His scowl deepens for a second when his destination appears in sight and he’s pulled out of his thoughts.
Spoke better be in a good mood. He better make this easy.
He walks in with big strides on his feet, his presence indicated by the sharp clicks of his heels. He moves past the bickering Mapicc and Jumper, something about how Mapicc can’t make traps for shit, and he tunnel visions onto Spoke when his eyes finally land on him by the nearby lake.
He stands alone, oddly enough, and he stands quiet. Not very Spoke-like. Especially when there’s a Parrot to annoy in the vicinity, when there’s a Mapicc to cling onto. But this does make Wemmbu’s job easier, so he pays it no further mind. He makes his approach.
Wemmbu considers just— doing it, before he realizes he doesn’t really know what he’s gonna be doing. Therefore he can’t just ‘do it’.
Upon getting closer, he’s surprised hyper-aware Spoke doesn’t detect him coming. And with a quick look at Spoke’s back, he notices Spoke’s hands shaking ever so slightly, so he decides against scaring him. Even if it would be really funny. Fuck, what is Minute making of Wemmbu?
He opts to moving to stand next to Spoke rather than behind him, and that still gets him a flinch from the void-bunny-something. It doesn’t really feel good, nor was it funny. Spoke is yet to cover his fear with an obnoxious laugh or hit Wemmbu playfully, this is all so wrong.
And Wemmbu’s here to hug him. Sure. Let’s make matters worse for Spoke while we’re at it. He’s tough, he’s handled worse. Took too close a dive to the void one too many times already.
“A bit jumpy there, Spoke?”
Wemmbu watches it happen in real time, Spoke trying to put a mask on, fumbling it and immediately giving up on the idea as a whole as he just turns to look at Wemmbu, face flat. Again, not Spoke-like!
“I just didn’t see you coming, bro.”
“I could tell. Now imagine I came with evil intent and one tapped you with a mace there, you need to keep your guard up bro!”
Wemmbu immediately realizes how stupid it was to say this to the person he’s supposed to be hugging. Yeah, no, just build up your walls higher! Don’t let anyone in! Especially not me!
“Whatever, Mapicc wouldn’t have let you come near if you wanted to kill me.”
That is true, with the guard dog Mapicc is. Wemmbu ignores how quickly Spoke disregards how easy it would’ve been to kill him there for two reasons: he doesn’t know how to navigate such thoughts and he doesn’t want to know why he feels responsible for Spoke’s well-being.
“What do you want, anyway?” Spoke continues. Wemmbu lets out a sigh before thinking, he is almost afraid to answer.
“Uh, I went to the End to get some gear from Minute—“
There it is, the magic trigger word. Spoke looks away frantically. Wemmbu, despite the nerves, finds himself more determined now. He takes a tiny step forwards, wary to not scare Spoke further away.
“—It’s nothing. Just, come here?” He opens his arms. Please. He’s never been the religious type, but he needs every deity possible to be on his side right now. He’ll— like, make sacrifices! Kill some people for this!
“…What?” Spoke questions it, naturally. Wemmbu really doesn’t want to explain, though, and Spoke doesn’t seem to… hate the idea. So he takes the initiative. He just, goes for it.
With one more bigger step forwards, he engulfs Spoke in his arms, pulling him to his chest and it concerns him how easy it is. He knows he’s stronger, if not the strongest, but he worries over how little resistance Spoke actually shows. He thrashes around for a brief moment, embarrassed, but then he takes a look behind his shoulder and calms down when he doesn’t see anyone watching.
He slumps into Wemmbu, almost too limb for comfort. Wemmbu rests a hand on his head, eventually patting Spoke’s hair when the hug isn’t cut short— which was apparently good, because Spoke manages to somehow sink deeper into Wemmbu’s hold; appearing impossibly smaller.
Wemmbu shouldn’t, and will not, but he thinks he could get used to this. Simply because he’s good at everything and he will adapt and master this too. Flame can be the combat master all he wants, Wemmbu will master hugging. Well, hugging Spoke. He’ll master hugging Spoke.
For Minute! Yeah, just for Minute. He should probably stop taking credit for it and just tell Spoke that this is from Minute, and he can only wish that he won’t freak out and push Wemmbu head first into the lake. It’s something about Minute in specific that tends to always set him off.
“This is from Minute.” He feels Spoke tense against him, and he rushes to elaborate. “You know, he can’t leave the end right now, so he asked me to hug you. For him. He misses you I think.”
It takes a second for Spoke’s breathing to return to normal, or as normal as it can be, but when it finally does he speaks up for the first time in Wemmbu’s hold.
“He did?”
As if anything should be hard to believe about this. Obviously Minute misses Spoke and cares for him deeply if he asked for this to begin with. And it should be a given that Wemmbu wouldn’t just… do this. And lie about it.
He entertains Spoke nonetheless.
“Yup. Was all mushy about it, you know how he is. You should visit him in the end after all this is over.”
The quiet he was met with almost made Wemmbu reconsider all his life choices that led to this moment, grimacing until his ears finally catch something, and his body catches up to his brain. He is more disturbed by his realization than the previous awkward silence.
That was a sniffle. Spoke’s chest is rising erratically, and muffled sobs are slipping out his mouth. Spoke is crying.
A hug, he figured out. But how is Wemmbu expected to also navigate this— comfort a crying Spoke. Spoke. Who’s never been serious in his whole life, let alone purposefully, visibly upset.
“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t—“ he pulls away a bit, in hopes to catch Spoke’s eyes, which he immediately learns was the wrong move when Spoke shrinks in on himself and covers his face with his arms.
“Fuck, Spoke, It’s okay, are you okay?” He tries to move Spoke’s hands away gently, to no avail.
So no eye contact right now, got it. Wemmbu backtracks a bit, and just shoves Spoke into another hug. Back in his arms. He finds himself to be way too excited when that works, Spoke returning the hug this time— hands clutching at Wemmbu’s clothes.
“This one’s from me.” What is he even saying anymore. What have Minute and Spoke made of him?
He doesn’t think he wants to hear the answer anyways.
Wemmbu goes back to the patting when Spoke’s cries refuse to ease down, and he doesn’t think about it before he starts rocking the trembling bunny in his hold— swaying both their bodies slowly.
He really hates that it does, but it helps. Spoke’s grip on his clothes loosens, and his whimpers lessen. Eventually, he even speaks up, soft and broken.
“Thank you.”
Wemmbu can’t handle the pressure of learning a third thing right now. Gratitude is weird, usually he just tells people to pay him back or something. He’ll let this one pass.
“It’s nothing.”
Spoke laughs weakly in response, “It’s a lot, especially for you.” And Wemmbu would take offense if it wasn’t true.
It makes sense that Spoke’s gotten around to being able to read him well enough too, after all. And it’s not hard to piece together that Wemmbu’s very new to this.
Spoke pulls away slightly to wipe his teary face with the palm of his gloved hand, Wemmbu keeps his hands firm where they rest as Spoke finally grants him eye contact.
Wemmbu regrets it quickly. For Spoke’s sad eyes not only are a harrowing sight to see, but also for how Wemmbu feels the love they hold for him under all that. The appreciation.
Spoke looks like this at Mapicc, at his soon-to-be king Parrot. And if not for the brave face he puts on when Minute is around, Wemmbu thinks Spoke would look at him like this too.
For Wemmbu to be the recipient of such looks, he deduces is an honor. He’s aware he’s not a very honorable guy, nor does he really try to he, but he wants to hold onto this.
Spoke rabidly blinks a few more times before going in for a third hug, this time with his arms wrapping around Wemmbu’s shoulders.
“Here’s one from me too. For you.”
Right. Wemmbu won’t take a turn at crying. He doesn’t cry. Spoke is just— contagious! The tears welling into his eyes don’t mean anything. He blinks them away and leans into Spoke.
His voice cracks when he tries to cheer unenthusiastically. “Yay.”
Spoke holds back a laugh, which doesn’t mean much when he’s flush against Wemmbu with his face right next to his ears and Wemmbu can feel it, but he finds himself appreciating the effort anyways.
Spoke’s fingers ended up in his ponytail at some point, just carding through it. They wordlessly agree to not say anything about it when his fingers are slowed down and occasionally stopped by knots.
Eventually, others’ voices get louder in the background, harder to ignore, and they both tense at hearing people question their whereabouts.
Right, this is still not normal. And they still both don’t want to be seen like this, so sappy and vulnerable. Wemmbu starts to let go, as Spoke’s hands simultaneously leave his hair. Wemmbu doesn’t think too much about why he already misses it, or why he misses it at all.
“Now—” Spoke giggles with a sniff, interrupting himself, “—I could be mean and ask you to hug Minute back for me, but I think I wanna do it myself. So you don’t have to worry about that.”
Wemmbu didn’t even consider that to be an option, so he can’t help how evident relief is on his face and in the tone of his voice when he next speaks. “Oh god, yeah, I’m glad.”
Hugging Spoke wasn’t at all as bad as it sounded, but hugging Minute, is something Wemmbu can’t even get himself to imagine. It’d probably be like— hugging a really distant relative that’s also your intimidating boss. Or, Santa.
Wemmbu’s only experienced at hugging Spokes, he can’t unlock other options already. He doesn’t know if he wants to even, he’s really excited to abruptly duel Flame sometime soon already.
Apparently, his relief gives the wrong idea, because Spoke starts looking sheepish and avoiding Wemmbu’s eyes again.
Even worse, he apologizes. “Sorry you had to do that, by the way.”
There’s too much on Wemmbu’s plate. He’s not adding apologies to it right now. Or hopefully ever.
“No- Spoke, I wanted to.” Wemmbu objects, hoping to be convincing enough.
“I don’t buy it.”
Ugh. How dare Spoke know when Wemmbu lies. It’s not even a lie, really, it's more of a half-truth! He wanted it eventually!
“I just wasn’t sure how to go about it— but I liked it, bro.”
That seems to be sincere enough— and it is— for Spoke to believe, proven by the tender smile growing back on his face. Stress washes away, or some of it at least. Who knows what Spoke really carries with him. Not Wemmbu!
Wemmbu smiles back, and it comes easier to him than it usually does. He brings an end to this when he feels the need to, before he starts spiraling some more about why and how and since when.
“Let’s go back before the rest find us here and drown us in the lake.”
“Yeah.” Spoke chuckles.
After the short walk back, Wemmbu instinctively gravitates to stand next to Eggchan like connecting puzzle pieces, as his gaze lingers on Spoke for a moment too long.
Spoke, who runs over to Mapicc and Jumper and acts completely fine, he barks too loud a laugh and gives too confident of a speech, he stands tall (still 5'4 though) and proud. Nothing left to resemble the small, sobbing Spoke he was holding a mere moment ago.
But when their eyes meet again, the love and understanding is still there. So Wemmbu just sighs exaggeratedly and dismisses Egg’s raised brow, cramming all these new and old weird feelings to the side before starting to sort through the shulker boxes given to him by Minute.
The thought. I hope we get to do that again unwillingly crosses his mind, causing him to slam his head hard into the shulker— ignoring the confused, high-pitched sound from Eggchan.