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The inside of the moon had been cold.
It's not like he didn't know that—it was a given, really; the moon was far out into the endless vacuum of space. Space was cold. And lacked the protective layer of oxygen and all that other junk the Earth people needed to survive. He should've known it'd be cold.
The inside of the moon was also pretty dark, he realized. It was round and huge, yet really restrictive in terms of having any room to move around.
The walls were sharp and jagged with rock and rubble, and there were no open crevices running along the overhead of its foreboding structure. That meant there was nothing to look at. It meant there was no such thing as light, or any hopes of any filtering through his newfound prison. Darkness really left them with a lot of time to think.
They thought about all the things they've done to get to this point. All the times they've hurt others—all the times they've hurt them back. He thought about his friends—all the BFB contestants that had taught him so much in all the little bit of life he's experienced and lived so far. He may have not been alive for very long, but… they really meant a lot to him.
They had visited them a lot, since the show ended. They had all the power in the world—power to pop in and out whenever he felt like it. He usually used that ability to his advantage—dropping in on small, glimmering moments of the lives they were living without him. Some decided to stay way out there, in the Pillary Ruins. Others were building their own islands, like Firey and Leafy. Some were living out their dreams, like Flower and Gelatin. Some were still competing, looking for something they couldn't give them. Some weren't fulfilled, just like he hadn't been.
He couldn't help the way he observed them. Constantly watching over them, no matter what they did. Back then, he had wanted to hold onto them all as hard as he could—to make them see how much better he made them compared to anyone else. They wanted to keep them tethered to them, and with enough force, they were sure they could convince them they were all they needed. He learned that control couldn't keep them; letting them want him back was what kept them from truly leaving altogether. He wished he had learned that sooner.
They knew they hurt people. He was only here because of his own mistakes—decisions that he both resented and wanted to justify, all at once.
One wasn't playing fair. She hurt Three; she hurt her so badly, she could barely move without gritting her teeth. One had power she couldn't control, and now she was taking it all out on everyone she came face-to-face with. They hadn't known any better, back then; they were all too young to know any better. They were all too young to have so much power—to have to make that decision. They were too young to lock someone away. Maybe he shouldn't have—maybe he should've listened to X.
Did he really learn anything at all? He knows what he did to the eliminated contestants—how he had locked them away. He locked One away, and he had done it again. He had even locked himself away at one point, stuck in his own head playing out realities that weren't real. They thrived in artificiality, and it was with this pattern of isolation that they had broken so many chances to connect.
Was Pencil really a fool for taking the deal? Erasing away your mistakes was always going to be more tempting than dealing with the reality of your actions—the reality of the present that you had weaved for yourself. She was only learning from his own mistakes, after all.
He wished he hadn't put Three to the wayside. He wished he hadn't allowed himself to become desensitized—a trade of his goal for his development. Three was still in there—rotting away—all the while, there he was, playing around with contestants and focusing on his own obsessions. He was more focused on classrooms than the person he had promised to improve for. How pathetic.
They were in here, while everyone else… they were so far away from him now.
Looking into the eyes of the person they held so dear, it was so clear to them now.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” X says in a flustered rush, their arms carefully wrapped around the lower slope of his back. He could only hold back a sob at that—the fact that they were actually in front of him, checking on him like he was something special—like he was the most important person in the room. Their cheeks burn purple under the blurry gaze of their surrounding audience—but he shakes his head; he needs to change. They needed to stop hiding away.
Four smiles with wobbly lips and tear-stricken eyes, leaning deeper into X’s encompassing bubble of comfort with a strange air of desperation. They gently entangle their own arms around his smaller frame, clawing along yellow dips of flesh with a pounding heart hammering with adrenaline. “I missed you more than anything,” they whisper, their voice wispy and hoarse from misuse. They lean in a little closer now, X’s eyes widening at the openness of it all.
He could never let X doubt it—never again.
He edges closer—their breaths mingling with a level of warmth that made him wanna curl in on himself; he wasn't used to this—he wasn't used to being open.
They were all looking at them—some of them being kind enough as to avert their attention elsewhere. Two was no such person however, staring directly at them with sparkling eyes and a level of amazement he wished he could knock them over the head with.
Either way, under the little bubble of X’s pretty eyes and orangey-summer glow, well… maybe it wasn't so bad, after all. He could live with that.
They finally get the courage to close the gap between them both—tilting their head to avoid the bumping of any nubs. He closes his eyes with an unwilling shudder, feeling the tiny little gasp X makes as their mouths collide—all before moving his lips with a quiet hum that trills up and through the heated coil singing in his chest.
Their brow creases tightly the second X returns the action with his own, shared amount of desperate enthusiasm—his soft hands pushing the back of their head with an unfamiliar pressure that only encourages them to splay their leg over X’s own in the hopes of locking him in for more. They huff into the kiss as their mouth opens wider, hands gliding up the indents of X’s hips and the free, open plains of yellow fur that they had missed feeling oh-so badly. They had never allowed himself to admit it—to admit that they wanted THIS. They wanted more, more, more—they were just too scared to change something that was already so perfect and right and special. What if X hadn't thought they were special, too? What if X wanted to leave one day?
He knew he wasn't a good person. X was just too good for him—much too good to be stuck with someone so cruel and unfeeling.
But… X made him feel. He felt so much, all the time—just for him. It was all for him; did X know how much he had changed them, just by existing?
But here they were—in the dark interior of the moon, embracing one another. It felt so nice—finally knowing that he was wanted; X wanted him. No matter how horrible he was, X still wanted him.
Finally parting, they pant against one another, their arms still looped into an unbreakable hold. X blinks up at them with a delirious little grin and eyes that were much too dazed to focus on anything else but his own face. Four simply shoves himself forward again—nuzzling into the other with a lingering purr as he molds into X’s cavity of protection. It was never going to be enough.
“I love you, X.” It's said with all the sincerity in the universe, the variable still staring up at him with an expression that made him want to melt right then and there. X moves his hands up as to cup the nub located at the side of his head, fingers raking through blue fuzz dirtied with moon dust and the heaviness of his past mistakes. And yet… X’s look of love doesn't change, nor does it falter; somehow, it only seems to burn brighter the longer he looks at him. Four bites his lip as he squishes into the warm palm of their hand, pupils blown wide at the way X’s thumb circled at his senses. He never wanted-
“Um, guys…?” Leafy cuts in from somewhere in the distance, her usual smile crooked with an awkward-seeming tilt. Her cheeks were painted a dark green hue. “Your love is so, so, SO beautiful, and it's so magical and cute, but I think maybe we need to focus on getting out of here before you guys, um… continue. Not in a mean way, of course! I love you both!” she hurriedly tacks on at the end, her hands scrambling a mile a minute in a rush to apologize. The rest of the survivors could only stare on with wide eyes and silence-breaking coughs. Eraser looked rather bored of the gross public display of their affections.
Okay, Four was set on changing and being more open with himself and whatever, but not that quickly. He breaks out of X’s hold with a nervous laugh, looking away from their forced audience. As for X, he simply giggles, his hand still firmly latched onto Four’s own.
“Um… Ignore that! All of you!” He blinks, tapping his chin. “Okay, don't completely ignore it, actually. X is… they're…” They press their hands tighter together. X wouldn't stop looking up at him—his expression just so… so… loving! Their brain was melting!
“They're… they're my partner! My soulmate! MINE!” they demand with a growl, barking it out angrily. “They're all mine! I love him and I'm his greatest treasure and you aren't allowed to say anything! OKAY!?”
Nobody says anything at that, nodding along with a startled stupor; it wasn't as if they hadn't already assumed, anyways. Four’s death glare stops Two from opening their mouth and spouting out a river of congratulatory compliments.
With X’s hand gripping his own, their fingers interlocked within one another’s, Four lets out a sigh…
He can do anything.