Work Text:
It was a horror. Everyone on the Blue Skateboards seemed terrified of the fate that had befallen Magazine, their friend. That is, except for two people: The Money Man and Banana. They seemed almost…proud of what they had done. Whilst everyone (even contestants from team Larry and Bacon Bread) tried to reel back in from the shock of Magazine’s untimely demise, Birthday Cake was suspicious.
Maybe it was the adrenaline of the situation that got them thinking, but something seemed wrong with Magazine’s elimination. The husband duo seemed happy that she was gone, the pair almost completely unfazed by her death. Not to Birthday Cake, though. They could see the cracks in the pair’s facade, and they wanted to get to the bottom of it, as soon as possible.
Right as the elimination ended, Birthday Cake ignored Bean’s attempts to clear the air and made a bee-line to their makeshift office. With a hefty slam of the door, they slid off their wheelchair and onto their desk’s chair. The scribbles of notes in each person’s file was just as frantic as Birthday Cake’s train of thought. Despite being away from the scene for so long, their movements were still as quick as if Magazine’s death had just happened.
Notes. Notes on every person in the little area the entire group of contestants were in, even people like Emily made the list in files that Birthday Cake held. Everyone had notes in their files, except for CD and a few others, who they haven’t covered yet. Money Man, by far, had the largest amount of notes on his behavior, with Banana being a close second. His behavior has been so…off, compared to everyone else. Who still plays golf and breaks into song on command?!
After a cramp in their hand hinders their frantic writing, they stopped with what they had, leaving Billboard’s, CD’s, and Paper Towel Roll Jr. 's files untouched. As they sifted through their drawers to find room for these files, they found an opened package of cigarettes. Right. Birthday Cake smoked one cigarette forever ago and still had the pack in their pocket before dumping it in the drawer. They flipped open the box, and as expected, only one empty space was present. They figured that one more couldn’t hurt in this time of stress.
Birthday Cake shifted back into their wheelchair before twirling an unlit cigarette around their fingers. As they wheeled over to a fancy-looking chair near a window, they saw a few of their fellow contestants.(albeit, with half of a normal person’s vision) Some were sleeping peacefully, while others were chatting amongst their teammates to make the time pass. They opened the window and scooted the chair closer with their free hand to avoid an odor in their office before settling down in the chair.
Using a match (originally to light candles) to light the end, they took a long drag. With a deep exhale, Birthday Cake sank in their chair. They wondered how Whisky was doing. Their little companion was one of their closest friends, maybe their only real friend in the competition. He was important to Birthday Cake, making them worry about his safety quite often.
After a deep exhale from their second puff, the sound of their office door opening catches their attention. Birthday Cake turns their head to the noise, being greeted by a trembling Whisky. For the first time, he was dead silent. He had a fearful look in his eyes, as if he had a nightmare. “Whisky?” Birthday Cake called out, earning no response. “Whisky…is everything okay?” They ask again, tapping their cigarette gently to discard the ash outside.
Still no response from Whisky, but he’s moving now. That’s a good sign from Birthday Cake. Whisky loved talking to them; hearing nothing but silence was unnerving to the “detective”. Whisky stumbles over to Birthday Cake’s chair, almost tripping on their wheelchair’s wheels in the process. His robotic arms wrapped around Birthday Cake’s free one, and his head rested on the top of their own head. Now this was off. Sure, Birthday Cake and their right-hand guy were physically affectionate at times, but Whisky was never this clingy before.
Despite his off-behavior, Birthday Cake thinks of an idea. Sliding the lit cigarette between their lips, they reach over to Whisky’s legs with both hands and, albeit with a shaky grip, sets Whisky down in their chair. Whisky’s legs dangled off the opposite armrest to his head, and his bottom was perched inches away from the nub that used to be their leg.
While Whisky slowly settles into the embrace after a previous wave of shock, Birthday Cake loses themself in thought. They pick up Whisky’s
‘hand’ and stare intently. Maybe one day they can put a ring on Whisky’s finger. Maybe one day they could be bound together. Although, one thing would be different. Unlike The Money Man and Banana, they wouldn’t use their companionship as a means to get an upper hand in a game like this. They wouldn’t use their deep-rooted bond with someone they love over something like this…
Despite Whisky’s initial shock, he leans into it, resting his head on their chest and studying their breathing as they continue to smoke. His hushed mumbles snap Birthday Cake out of their thoughts, and they glance towards their friend. “I’m assuming today messed you up a little, did it not?” Birthday Cake asks through a steady stream of smoke, blowing it into the outside air. Whisky nods, replying with, “Yeah. I just…I got really nervous that it could happen to any of us…me…you! But…you seem quite spooked too; I never knew you smoked!” Whisky adds, chuckling dryly afterward.
“I don’t. Not really, at least. This is only my second one in…gee, I don’t know how long. I’ve had that pack for a while now! I think someone wanted me to buy it for them, but it just never got around to them, I guess.” Birthday Cake explains, despite doubting the story in their head. Their memory had always been foggy since the game started. “Ah. I hope it doesn’t become a problem, you seem stressed.” Whisky comments, wrapping his arms around their neck and holding tight as if they’d fly away if he let go.
Once finished, Birthday Cake flicks the cigarette nub out the window, conveniently getting stomped on by Paper Towel Roll while he was strolling with his son. With the cigarette put out, they look back to Whisky, who had a concerned look on his face. “No no no! It…It won’t be more than a one-time thing, I promise!” they swear, making Whisky skeptical. “Are you sure? I’m not sure if I can trust anyone on this team after what happened.”
Birthday Cake feels guilt well in their gut at Whisky’s admission. Their entire “detective” identity was nothing but a fallacy, and they felt awful for keeping that a secret from Whisky, but it had to be done to save face. Hearing Whisky makes them think of what would happen if he learned the truth about them being a fraud at heart.
Despite this, Birthday Cake bites the bullet and mutters: “I promise, Whisky. You can trust me. Always.” before planting a kiss on his forehead. Whisky heats up a little at the action, blinking rapidly in surprise. “Oh! I…uhm…one..more?” Whisky stammers, making Birthday Cake worried for a moment that they crossed a boundary with their companion. Until the “one more” hit them like a truck. Through nervous giggles, they comply with a giggly: “Alright then!” before planting a kiss on his lips.
To Birthday Cake’s relief, Whisky kisses back and smiles up at them when he pulls away. “Goodnight, Birthday Cake.” Whisky mumbles before resting on their shoulder. At this point, Birthday Cake accepts their fate and realizes that they can’t get out of this chair. Oh well, cuddling with Whisky shouldn’t be terrible in a comfy chair. “Goodnight, Whisky.” Birthday Cake murmurs before drifting into a deep sleep, wrapping their arms around Whisky’s sides to fully cuddle their true companion.