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“Eugene, wait!” Jett exclaims, extending his arm out in front of Eugene. “This part’s dangerous.” He glances back with a quick wink.
Eugene’s brows furrow, staring at Jett with the most offended glare ever. His mouth opens for a response but he can’t find anything suitable to say. Go fuck yourself? Fuck you? Get out of my way? I had this in the bag before your stupid dipshit self got in my way? Of course Jett would pull some bullshit like this! He grips the handle of his hammer so hard his knuckles turn white. He’s positive he’s about to splinter the wood when he hears that stupid horse fuck face mutter something about “you damn metas” and how a certain somebody is going to deal with this.
“Who’s ‘somebody’?” Ezra glares at the animal mask wearers.
“You guys have a problem with metas? That’s hysterical,” Eugene steps forward, anger simmering underneath his skin. “You’re robbing an arcade, bro. None of us need powers to deal with some double-a mascots trying to steal trading cards out of all things! Come on! I’ll show you!”
Jett feigns gasping, his jaw agape. Ezra cheers him on in the back while the double-a mascots run out of the arcade like pure cowards. Pride and smugness linger within Eugene as he hears them scream and run down the alleyways. Oh, right. They had to follow them…
“Okay,” Jett says, leaning on Eugene with stars in his eyes. “That was kinda badass, Eugene.”
Despite Eugene festering with resentment and anger, he can’t help but smirk at Jett. ‘See? I don’t need you protecting or mocking me. Whatever it is you think you’re doing.’
The Titans rush out of the arcade, Eugene panting heavily for air as he climbs several flights of stairs. He missed the exhilarating feeling of flying…oh, how he needed to fly right now. To feel the wind on his skin. Ugh. Being powerless fucking sucked! He runs on the rooftop, almost falling face first into the asphalt.
“Eugene, wait! The distance is too far—”
Oh, fuck that! His foot misses the ledge and he’s knocked backwards and down into the air. Fuck my life… Eugene mentally sighs as he almost hits the ground, being lowered safely by Ezra. Great. Now what? He’s probably gonna wait around because he’s so useless without his powers?
He looks up and catches Jett glancing back at him. Eugene can’t help but scowl slightly. What was that look Jett gave him, anyway? A ‘oh, hey, look at this loser! I’m way better than him because I have my stupid cool powers and he doesn’t!’ look? Jett’s probably going to laugh at him. He already is, anyway. A certain feeling swirls in his chest.
Eugene groans while walking away. He even kicks a few rocks. Fuck his life and fuck Jett, too. They can all go kick rocks like he’s doing right now. He sighed. Why is my life like this?
⋆˚꩜｡
Eugene mindlessly taps his foot against the floor as he stares at Discord. He chews a pen in his mouth as he’s suddenly added to a random ass group chat by Lian.
“…what the fuck,” is all Eugene mutters. “Guess I’ll type…”
Shazam: hey everyone
cheshirecat: @Shazam !!!!!
fairplay: hi
Wildcard: hello
Proxy: so a lot happened
Shazam: okay????
cheshirecat: we saw red hood again
Shazam: after the roof?
Proxy: it’s kind of a long story
Wildcard: nightwing is a fucking snitch
Eugene heavily sighs as he sees Jett’s message pop up on his monitor. He rolled his eyes, sensing Jett’s prick energy through the screen.
Shazam: what does red hood want
cheshirecat: same thing as before
Shazam: cole?
cheshirecat: yeah
Shazam: have they found anything
fairplay: no
Shazam: ok hey i gotta go, some of the guys on my floor are doing a smash tournament, its our last week in the dorms but i wanna hear EVERYTHING
Proxy: monday? pike street
Shazam: definitely tell me if anything else happens!
Eugene slumps back in his chair, still chewing on a pen. He’s wrapped up in a huge fluffy blanket, his eyes fighting to close and drift off into a peaceful sleep. A loud, sudden ping makes his eyes shoot wide open.
One message from Jett. Motherfucker.
“Oh, fuck off…” Eugene mutters, opening the message.
Wildcard: you should really change ur pfp
Wildcard: it doesn’t suit you
“Oh, fuck off!” Eugene groans, throwing his head back hard against the chair. He should be playing Super Smash Bros with his friends, really, but he’s out here texting multiple, many threats to his teammate/enemy that he hates—…no. That was not the right word. It was something new. Eugene loathes Jett. Now, that seemed right for a feeling so sudden and new.
Now, should he respond with a simple “fuck you” or should he block Jett? Hmm, decisions, decisions. His mouse simply moves over the block button and he feels free as a bird when he presses it.
⋆˚꩜｡
Wildcard: .
Wildcard: bRUH YGS TOLD ME TO FLIRT WITH HIM
cheshirecat: …wtf did you say
Wildcard: “you should really change ur pfp it doesnt suit you”
Proxy: WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SAY THAT
fairplay: bro
Wildcard: omfg
Wildcard: OMFG
cheshirecat: WHAT HAPPENED
Wildcard: he blocked me
Wildcard: dont talk to me
Proxy: LMAO
⋆˚꩜｡
Eugene is sprawled out on his chair, his head lulled to the side, drool leaving the sides of his mouth. The blanket falls off his legs and tumbles to the ground. Discord rings and rings until he eventually wakes up.
“…the fuck?” He mumbles sleepily as he fumbles with his mouse, clicking on the voice chat.
“Anyway—oh, hey, Eugene!” Lian calls out, her camera on.
“…hi,” Eugene mumbles, his head instantly hitting the desk with a loud bang.
“…Eugene?” PJ mutters, shifting the camera down to see his face. “Dude…? Are you okay?”
Eugene starts to snore softly, his head laying on his desk.
“Did he fall asleep?” Jett loudly snickers, sneakily taking a photo.
“Yo! Eugene!” Darla’s voice comes from the other side of the door. “Eugene!”
Eugene stays sound asleep, dreaming of mountain dew and soft pretzels… and for some reason, Jett. Even in dreams, he still manages to torment him.
“Wake up, bro,” Ezra stifles a laugh. “We’re discussing—”
Ezra suddenly pauses when Eugene’s door slams open. His face is still planted into his desk even as Darla steps into his room. The Titans go silent, watching the scene play out.
“Yo, I have been calling you for the past few minutes!” Darla exclaims, about to shake Eugene. “Why are you still asleep? Eugene, wake up!”
“Huh?” Eugene murmurs, sleepily sitting up. “What do you want?”
Darla’s words instantly sound like a blurred and muted distant memory once Eugene is lulled back to sleep for one second. She shakes his chair.
“What do you want?” Eugene asks again, groaning.
“Are you sleeping?” Darla tilts her head.
“What? If I was asleep, you would’ve seen that! What the hell does that even mean? I don’t—ugh, whatever, dummy!”
“Chill, I was joking. Anyway, who are those guys?” Darla says, pointing to Eugene’s computer screen.
Eugene squints his eyes. “Uh… I don’t know them.”
“Oh, well…” Darla sighs as she leaves Eugene’s room.
“Huh?!” Eugene exclaims.
“You don’t know us?” Jett tries to ask, unaware that he’s literally muted on Eugene’s side. He frowns slightly when Eugene doesn’t respond. “Um… Don’t tell me you muted me, bro.”
“Eugene, please unblock Jett,” PJ mutters while facepalming.
“I don’t want to,” Eugene insists. “He’s—”
“Bro, please. He won’t shut up,” Ezra sighs. “Please just do it for our sake…”
Eugene slumps in his chair. “Fine! Fine.” His eyes glance over to one message from Jett.
Wildcard: thanks sweetie
Wildcard: *Shazam
Eugene’s eye twitches as he screams. “What the fuck?” His hands go to his hair, gripping it like he’s about to rip it out. Sweetie? Oh, Jett was about to have it whenever Eugene saw him in real life.
“…what was that?” Lian suddenly asks, ripping Eugene from his pretty violent thoughts.
Eugene wants to instantly explode right there and then. He let Jett fucking embarrass himself. He’s gonna pay for this! “Um… I thought I saw a bug.”
“Really? What kind?” Jett’s voice carries a teasing lilt. Eugene frowns.
“It looked like you, really,” Eugene hums. “It was a cockroach.”
Jett fumbles with his words. “Is that all I am to you?”
“Pretty sure,” Eugene snickers. “Why, you don’t like it?”
“Okay, first of all, stop flirting. Lian was gonna tell us something,” Ezra groans.
“Red Hood made us rooms in his safe house,” Lian inquires. “We can crash there if we want.”
Lian interrupted Eugene’s peaceful sleep for this? Eugene could fucking cry this instant—this could’ve been a fucking email! This could’ve been a quick message, not a complete conference call or whatever this was.
“…Is that all?” Eugene mutters, barely hiding the irritation laced in his voice.
“Someone’s angry,” Jett says in a sing-song tone.
“Shut up!” Eugene snaps, instantly covering his mouth. “This could’ve been a fucking e-mail,” he mutters way too loudly.
“What?”
“Nothing… Haha.” Eugene quickly clicks off the call.
Great. Now he would have to change out of his Minecraft pajamas and into his usual sweater vest. Eugene curses every Titan that he knows, including his favorites, as he gets ready for the impending, horrible meet up. Fuck his life.
⋆˚꩜｡
Eugene shows up last, slipping in behind Jett. He yawns as Jason points them down the hallway. Eugene’s eyes widen and he does a whole triple check when he sees his name right next to Jett’s. His room… Is next to Jett’s. Jason played in his face. Jason… played in his face! They’re essentially roommates at this point. It was absurd. No, it was preposterous!
“No…” Eugene mumbles to himself. “No. No… No! What the fuck!? What the fuck…”
“It’s wonderful, right?” Jett speaks up, raising a brow.
Eugene pauses, turning his head to glance at Jett who is currently leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and all. Just the sight of him alone filled him with some rage so unexplainable, he swore he felt steam rush out his ears and a certain, pure and strong stirring inside his chest.
He fumbles for a response that isn’t flipping Jett off or exploding with curses and insults that have been unheard of. He feels blood rushing to his head when he senses Jett’s eyes staring at him—probably assessing him for a future mocking insult. Oh, poor Jett…he probably loathed Eugene the same way he did—for his face, his voice, his clothing—he loathed it all! Poor Jett indeed, forced to reside with someone so powerless.
“No!” Eugene snaps, stepping inside his room. His pulse rushes as his head reels with several hysterical thoughts. He slides down, his back against the door. He hits his head back against the door heavily.
“Why is this happening? Why me? Why…” Eugene hesitates to say that bastard’s name—his flesh immediately crawling at the thought of it leaving his tongue. “Why Jett? Oh… this is so bad.”
Loud heavy rock music blasts from next door and Eugene screams into a pillow. Why wasn’t he considerate? But then again, it was Jett fucking Blitz we were talking about….
“You’re fine. You’re fine, Eugene!” Eugene sighs, convincing himself. “Everything will be just fine… right?”
It was not fine. Eugene stayed up, his eyes red and dry from a lack of sleep. A pillow covers his ears but it does nothing to block the loudass music emitting from Jett’s room. Fucking asshole, Eugene mentally remarks. He has a fucking headache!
Shazam: TURN THAT SHIT OFF BEFORE I BEAT THE FUCK OHT OF YOU
Shazam: *out
Shazam: Fuck
Wildcard: mfw you’re just oht
Shazam: SHUT THE FUCK UP
Shazam: TURN IT DOWN JETT
Wildcard: what are you gonna do about it
Shazam: IM GONNA
Eugene pauses. What was he gonna do anyway? Realistically, he could throw a single punch at Jett and he’d bruise. But could he land that hit? Might as well try it…
Wildcard: say it
Shazam: no
Shazam: i will not
Wildcard: why not
Shazam: open the fucking door
Jett opens the door, looking down expectantly to a very angry Eugene. His furrowed eyebrows form a crease—for some reason, Jett has the impulse to press his finger in between that said crease.
“So, are you—” Eugene pauses, his anger fumbling when he feels Jett’s finger cold and firm against his skin. “What the—…”
“Sorry, what was that?” Jett jokingly asks, leaning down to hear Eugene better.
Eugene frowns and pushes past Jett, pausing the music on his phone. “See? Now that’s better.”
“Whatever helps you sleep better at night,” Jett sighs, his eyes watching Eugene’s every move.
“I will,” Eugene sardonically says, rolling his eyes. “Thank you very much, Blitz.”
“I guess you’re welcome, Choi,” Jett delivers back with the same amount of sarcasm. “Sleep tight. Or not.”
Eugene just grumbles while leaving, almost tripping on Jett’s foot. “Fucker.”
“Hm?”
“Fuck off!” Eugene exclaims while slamming his door.
Eugene pretends he can’t hear Jett’s god awful, loud ass cackling as he goes to sleep.
⋆˚꩜｡
Wildcard: Lowkey i got this
cheshirecat: do you
fairplay: he does not
fairplay: Eugene yelled at him
fairplay: and Jett just took it
Wildcard: .
Wildcard: Not what happened at ALL
Proxy: I believe PJ
cheshirecat: yeah me too
Wildcard: OH FUCK OFF
Wildcard: He LOVED to see me
cheshirecat: should we ask Eugene
Wildcard: Um.
cheshirecat: exaclty
cheshirecat: *exactly
cheshirecat: dont fucking do it jett
cheshirecat: dont you fucking do it
Wildcard: mfw you’re just exaclty
cheshirecat: This is why he hates you.
⋆˚꩜｡
Arcade day was a bust. Eugene spent the past few minutes trying to get a stupid Rilakkuma plushie out of a rigged claw machine. He leans his head pathetically against the glass. He sighs and the corners of his mouth curl downwards into a small frown.
“Having trouble?” Jett teases. “I could help—”
“No,” Eugene grumbles, his forehead pressed softly against the glass. “I got this. Go away.”
Jett wraps his hands around Eugene’s waist, moving him out of the way. Eugene goes instantly red, his eyes wide with disbelief. Something else other than anger flows throughout his body, through his veins and he doesn't know why. Being moved aside from Jett was able to make Eugene feel this way? That was ridiculous!
A soft plushie hits his face. A lingering feeling is left where Jett touched his waist. Was it detestation? Pure hatred? Or was it something else? Oh, how could Eugene stand this? This was horrible! He was moved aside!
“Yeah. Yeah,” Eugene mumbles, begrudgingly taking the plushie. “Thanks, I guess.”
Jett hums, walking off to go pester Ezra and PJ. Eugene stares at the fat Rilakkuma plushie for a long time before moving on to another game.
“So, how’s it going with you and Eugene?” PJ asks, watching Ezra play a random video game from the 80’s. “Sounded like that went well.”
“I think he hates your guts,” Ezra implores, glancing over to Jett.
“Yeah, but it’s the way he hates them,” Jett dreamily sighs.
“What does that even mean?” PJ shakes his head.
Eugene finds himself staring at Jett from afar—the way his hair looked. The way his hands moved. How he smiled. His eyelashes. His goofy clothes. His eyes squint for a minute before he forces himself to look away. That was dumb. He shook his head. Why was Eugene sort of admiring Jett? They loathed each other. Right? Right.
He totally wasn’t wondering what it would be like to be wrapped up in Jett’s jacket or to interlace their fingers together, or to kiss—Stop that! Eugene mentally berates himself. What has Jett done to him? He probably hired a random ass Etsy witch to make him feel this way! Jett will pay for this.
Eugene pretends like he wasn’t admiring Jett when he walks by him, probably to pester him about the game he’s currently playing and win it for him.
Lian sidesteps Jett the moment he leaves Ezra and PJ alone. He probably used a random excuse to go back to pestering and touching Eugene. “So…what’s the deal between him and Eugene?”
“Confusion,” PJ shrugs his shoulders, watching Jett walk up to Eugene.
“I bet they’re not even going to date,” Ezra nods, looking over at the scene. Eugene seems somewhat angry—more pouting than frowning as Jett moves him aside again, his ears burning. “Is he blushing?”
“Really? I bet, like, one dollar that they would date,” Lian sighs, peering her head over. “And, yeah. Eugene’s totally blushing.”
“You can do better than one dollar,” PJ rolls his eyes.
“…two dollars?”
“I guess,” Ezra shakes his head. “If that’s all you have…”
Lian whips her head around. “Are you calling me broke?”
“If the shoe fits.”
Lian shoves Ezra playfully, causing him to tumble onto the ground. PJ instantly bursts out laughing as Ezra stays sprawled on the ground.
“Loser!” Lian calls out, walking away.
“…whatever…” Ezra weakly mumbles, still on the floor.
⋆˚꩜｡
Eugene groans as he’s forcefully woken up from a peaceful, blissful slumber. As usual, Jett would blast music and someone would always manage to pester him on Discord. And what made it worse is that it was three in the morning. The blanket is on the floor again, but that stupid Rilakkuma plushie that he totally doesn’t want is cuddled in his arms.
He’s very positive that Jett was in his dream. Ugh, get out of my brain!
“Darla, please, I just wanna sleep,” Eugene groans as he answers the call.
“So, how’s the first week with the Titans?” Darla tilts her head, her tone way too jolly for a late night call.
Eugene sighs, fighting the urge to fall back asleep right there and then. “Decent.”
“You like the people there?” Darla hums. “They’re your friends, right?”
“Yeah…” Eugene says. “Although… there is one problem.”
“Which is?”
Eugene heavily sighs. “A boy. His name is Jett—he’s…very impossible to describe, but if I could, I would say that he’s so annoying! I hate everything about him. His jokes. His voice. I hate his smile. I hate his voice. I hate his stupid pink hair…” he trails off. “I hate his stupid clothes even though I wear stupider clothes. I hate his stupid eyes—Oh, God, I can’t stand him!”
Darla’s jaw drops. “Oh?”
“I hate him! I hate him!” Eugene insists. “He’s so… ugh! He drives me insane.”
“He sounds like a nice guy,” Darla shrugs. “Give him a chance, maybe? Do you like him?”
“No! And don’t call him nice!” Eugene exclaims. “He’s my idea of nothing!”
“That never answered my question, though.”
Eugene hesitates. “…maybe. But don’t hold that against me! I know what the hell he is.”
“And what is he?” Darla holds a giggle.
“A complete imbecile!”
Eugene hangs up, quickly leaving his room. He makes a beeline for the kitchen for a quick glass of water. Was he crazy? He did not like Jett, right? Like… romantically like? Oh, come on, Eugene! Get it together!
He downs the glass of cold water like alcohol—it barely does anything to calm his stupid thoughts.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Jett asks suddenly.
Eugene squints his eyes at Jett’s malicious presence. “What makes you think that?”
“Heard you yelling, like, a minute ago.”
“O—Oh. Well… Well, it was nothing!” Eugene insists, looking away. “Why do you care?”
“Uhh…” Jett pauses. Why does he care? It’s not his problem that Eugene is mad, right? It’s totally not like he’s the potential reason why, right? Righttt…. “I dunno.”
“Are you rage baiting me?” Eugene sighs, deciding to look back at Jett.
Jett glances at Eugene. “…No? I’m not trying to—”
“Seems like you are!” Eugene yawns, about to walk away just when Jett grabs his arm, his fingers curling around his wrist. Heat rises to his face in spite of himself.
Eugene looks up, his traitorous eyes lingering on the sight of Jett’s lips. He swallows nervously—again, maybe it's the lack of sleep contributing to this shitshow. His pulse rushes, his thoughts running with a hundred thoughts per minute. He’s backed up against the kitchen table. His heart hammers in his chest.
“I don't actually hate you,” Eugene blurts out, almost screaming at the sudden silence. “I… I think I like you.” He flushes instantly with red. Why did you say that!?
“…Can I kiss you?”
He nods instantly. Eugene really doesn’t know what’s happening until Jett fucking kisses him. How did they get here? Only Eugene knows. And, he wasn’t dreaming.
The kiss triggers something warm inside him. Something curious, something like fire—it was one kiss, then another. Something else stirs within his stomach, swirling in his chest and he’s positive it isn’t the usual anger he feels.
Eugene finds himself tugging on Jett’s shirt, bringing them closer. Another kiss brings him to want more—hooked on the euphoria that this gives him. This… this is nice, he thinks to himself. It felt like sparks, warmth radiating throughout his body, his entire being. He used to be sure that he knew hunger, but this is something entirely different.
Jett abruptly pulls away and Eugene frowns. He’s about to ask why he pulled away when he turns his head to the side. Uh, oh. He immediately turns his head away, covering his face with his hands.
There it was. Lian standing there with the most shocked face ever. The three of them are having a very healthy dose of prolonged eye contact.
“Holy shit,” Lian mumbles, blinking several times. “No way.”
“Hey—” Jett exclaims. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“I am so getting five dollars.”
Jett sputters, his greedy hands still holding onto Eugene. “You made a bet!?”
“We all did, actually. Now, Ezra and PJ are going to give me five dollars! And I wanted water but clearly the kitchen is occupied…” Lian sighs.
“No, no, it’s not,” Eugene tries to insist before Lian rushes down the hallway. He groans. “All that for five dollars?”
“I guess…”
⋆˚꩜｡
“So? What happened?” Darla asks. “You hung up last night.”
“I think I have a boyfriend now.”
“…HUH?”