Work Text:
“Where are you going?”
“Uh- outside?”
Branzy looked back, in real confusion. He didn’t get it yet, then. He wasn’t defensive. Just hesitant, the fear Clown should have enticed months before now bleeding through to rust at the edges of his fitted composure.
“Try again.”
It clicked. Clown saw Branzy’s hands start shaking, and his shoulders tensed, then fought to relax. He should learn to relax. It would help, if he leaned into this. Not that Clown cared much if he didn’t.
“I- I’m going to- be safe? Not fall in a hole? A- avoid- people?”
Branzy spoke faster, his eyes darting, like there was a right answer. Like there was something he could say that would get Clown to stop looking at him, freezing him in place.
There wasn’t.
“Again.”
It was amusingly easy, to press replay on Branzy’s frightened panic. Safe, too. Controllable. If Clown was the one distressing him, he wasn’t scaring himself.
“I’m… not going outside? Am I?”
“Correct.”
The tension released. Branzy’s shoulders slumped, but his lips twitched, and his feet scuffed at the floor. His hands were carefully still. Not giving Clown anything to look at.
“Any reaso- no, no, don’t- I- I’ll go back to- to work.” Cheeks glowing a little, Branzy sighed, and moved to leave, shooting an anxious glance, like he wanted to wait for permission. “Sorry?”
“No. If you want a break, you can have one.” Clown felt rather magnanimous, stepping forward into the space between them with a firm tone. “But you’re not leaving my sight.”
“…oh.”
Miserable, Branzy kicked at the floor again, and let out another plaintive sigh. Like he wasn’t the one being kept safe, here. Like his eyes didn’t dart up, his lips didn’t twitch, a spark smothered a moment later by his own hesitancy.
Clown waited another moment, to see if he was going to complain. He almost thought Branzy was out of the woods, that he was learning quicker than expected the shifted expectations in this relationship, when he heard the hitching breath that meant his partner was trying again.
“But-“ Already a mistake, but there was red in Branzy’s cheeks, and his own pride still seemed unable to let him back down. “But- Clown, I- I can’t always- you can’t always be-“
“I can.”
Clown didn’t retaliate. Didn’t raise his voice. He had a right, as much as anyone had a right to anything, around here. Parrot may be the one they answered to, but he could be killed as much as anyone else, and he’d approve. He would see nothing wrong with a little removal of autonomy, when they were teammates already.
And Branzy stumbled. He opened his mouth again, then closed it, and he looked miserable, but Clown trusted his instincts. There was something in his eyes, the way he pushed back onto his heels. Like he was relieved to be keeping them in place.
Clown trusted himself, to be trustworthy in overriding Branzy’s decisions. He wasn’t looking to harm, just restrict, temporarily. Branzy couldn’t be trusted with himself.
“C- can you? Really?”
“Yep.”
“A- and-“
“No one’s going to stop me. You’re not going to stop me, are you, Branzy?”
It was funny, to watch Branzy go through every stage of grief on fast-forward. He moved his weight again, like he was denying Clown was even talking to him, and he could just walk out of here. He curled his nails into his palm, like a rabbit that knew it couldn’t fight back. He almost moved to argue, then thought better. Something upset flickered, then he breathed out, and shook his head, quickly.
“…n- no. Sorry.”
“Good. Nothing to be sorry for. First time’s a free pass.”
“F- first time-?”
“Talking back, BranzyCraft.” Clown crossed the distance between them in brisk steps, tilting his head happily. “You won’t do it again, will you?”
“Clown- c- come on, you- you’re telling me I can’t go outside. What am I supposed to-“
“Listen. You’re supposed to listen, Branzy.”
Doubt was visible, now Clown was a little more up close.
So, he leaned forward, and cupped Branzy’s cheek with one hand, pressing his mask against his partner’s forehead in a simple move that pressed straight through his personal space without an ounce of resistance.
“And you’re going to, aren’t you?”
Quiet. Clown could hear Branzy’s breathing. It was adorable, panicked, resisting his weak attempts to control it. It was inconsistent, with the way some part of him relaxed, and he leaned into Clown’s touch in return.
“Yeah. S- sorry.”
Humming, Clown slipped his hand down, circling the back of Branzy’s neck in a small scruffing motion, rubbing over where his pulse beat mere inches away. It was a mercy, in its own way. It saved the struggle Branzy seemed to be undergoing not to fully collapse into his hand.
“Good. Are we calm?”
“Mhm.”
“You want a break.”
“N- no, I- I was just…” Branzy’s breath hitched against Clown’s mask, and he barely felt it, aside from under his fingertips. “I- wanted to…”
“No. You’re getting a break. I’m not trying to hurt you, Branzy. Just keep you safe.”
If Branzy left their base, Clown didn’t know what might happen. It was an uncontrollable world, out there, with so many ways for Branzy to hurt himself. He could pick a fight with the wrong person, jump off a cliff somewhere Clown couldn’t find him in time, run away and not know how to get home.
Branzy nodded, nuzzling against Clown’s head, another small sigh driving him into the soft touches surrounding him. It was sweet, how he seemed willing to fit the space Clown gave him. That was why he didn’t want to give too much, in case Branzy lost himself.
“Heel.”
With a faint smile, Branzy huffed a small laugh, but pulled away obediently to follow at Clown’s shoulder. It was useful, and assuring, how close he stuck, paces level with Clown’s measured ones.
It was so nice, how hard he tried to be obedient.
Clown held out his hand, about halfway across the tent that was Branzy’s permanent home for as long as he chose. It didn’t take much. Branzy seemed almost abashed, as their fingers intertwined, like he was making up for something.
He didn’t need to be apologetic. That was one of the things Clown was trying to change, to try to teach him that sometimes it was ok to forget a small mistake. He could take care of it.
“Sit.”
Branzy sat, climbing quietly onto one of the bar stools. For now, they were serving as their recreation area. They’d have to clear it up, but they had time. Clown was happy to drag a few things out, for the sake of a little more time with just the two of them.
For his part, Clown kept walking, just a few steps to find Branzy’s current book and his sketchbooks. Reading was another new thing, for his partner. Rather than running off into adventure and not admitting he was trying to get himself hurt, Branzy could find some other world in a book that gave him the same rush, without the risks.
Clown was trying it out, at least. He’d been pushing a few things, trying odd little hobbies to see what could fully capture Branzy’s attention. It was a difficult game, but it kept his own head calm, trying to find what would fit his partner’s.
Sliding Branzy’s book along the counter, Clown climbed up the chair beside him, but didn’t stop there. Instead, he turned around, swinging himself then his legs onto the countertop, and adjusting so he could lie down along the length of wood. It was more comfortable. And it gave him a better sense of control, having a different angle on Branzy.
“Can’t- can’t believe you make me read…”
Branzy’s laugh was light, fluffy and meaningless, but Clown tilted his head to shoot him a look anyway.
“Yes. It’s good for you.”
“…yeah. A- all of this is, isn’t it?”
Nodding, Clown watched carefully, for the reaction. Branzy tested him, sometimes. If he’d stand down with a little resistance. If he didn’t have the confidence to push through pushback.
Still a pleasant surprise, to watch Branzy’s shoulders twitch in a shrug and a smile, his eyes dropping to his book.
“Thanks. Almost- feels like you actually like me.”
“I do.”
It was a little more than liking, but Clown would let him have it.
“…and that- that is where you lose me.”
Branzy seemed happy to be the final word, shaking his head in his own disbelief and positioning his fingers just right around the pages. He would have left it there, his eyes flickering for only the barest moment, betraying his fear that Clown wouldn’t say anything, would admit truth with his silence.
Clown let a moment pass. Then two. Branzy didn’t show his disappointment in his face, more just the slight slump in his shoulders, the way he fidgeted, as he settled with his book. Like he was more inclined to simply get up and leave, Clown’s orders meaning so much less when he thought they were motivated by something impersonal.
It was personal. It was personal because Clown couldn’t imagine anyone else feeling like the way their emotions intertwined.
If he didn’t love Branzy, one of them would be dead, by now. He wouldn’t have had the ease to walk into Branzy’s room to find a knife’s point buried in his forearm, wouldn’t have had the self-confidence to force his partner’s hand away.
Sometimes, Clown wondered if he was meant to love Branzy to make up for what little he gave himself. They both filled in the gaps, in each other. Branzy made him feel kind, and he made Branzy feel like he didn’t have to make bad choices because his head gave him no other option.
“I love you.”
Branzy’s head shot up, and he would have hit it on something, because Clown hadn’t thought to baby-proof the rafters. But the ceiling was a way off, and he was ok, just severely frightened, his breath visibly hitching as he stared at Clown in wordless terror.
“L- like-“
“Like I will keep you safe.” Clown smiled, his arms crossed and ankles raised slightly in the air behind him. He shouldn’t look threatening. And he wasn’t trying to be. “Like you belong to me anyway, and I want to keep you regardless. Is that okay?”
Branzy looked faint. He might be playing it up, or he might not have realised the situation, or maybe it was something else, making all the blood in his face rush to his cheeks and ears, and he stammered out something that could almost pass for a reason, in a strangled, hushed tone.
“B- but- Clown- I- I’m- you could- anyone, s- so-“
“I think you’re perfect, BranzyCraft.” Taking a risk regarding falling off the counter, Clown reached out, vaguely patting his partner’s hair as best as he reasonably could. “Everything I could hope for.”
“Clown…”
“Even if you think you’re… anything, Branzy. Anything you think of or do to yourself. Everything still holds.”
He’d end up drawing Branzy again, after this. He should stop, really, because people weren’t his forte, and off-the-cuff portraits even less so, but sometimes Clown couldn’t resist. He needed some outlet for the sheer energy flowing into and out of his devotion.
Branzy stared at him, with all the abject terror of a rabbit in a trap being told it was going to be adored. He didn’t understand. He didn’t need to understand. But Clown could take care of him, and he’d enjoy it, and they could both pretend to be functional human beings.
In a single moment that felt like the snapping of a taut wire, Branzy dropped his head, everything from his cheekbone to his helix glowing red.
“Thank you. I- I love you. Too.”
That was a surprise, actually. Not one Clown would have asked for. A small hum of surprise escaped him, before he had a chance to hold it back, but Branzy just set his jaw, and nodded in determination to finish what he’d started.
“You- you know I wouldn’t- I’m not this easy. Not for- for everyone.” Branzy glanced up, wide eyes desperate for Clown to know how much this mattered to him. And he did. “But- you- you’re nice. To me.”
They were both bad at this. It was nice, the way Clown could just nod, acknowledging the way he understood what was trying to be said.
“And I want to be.”
“…and I still don’t know why.”
“Just told you. Love.” Clown grinned, spinning through the awkwardness of it pressing against the inside of his skull with a small laugh. “Now read. Good behaviour means you can go outside.”
“You’re so controlling…”
Branzy’s voice was barely audible, muttered into his hand as he wiped his eyes quietly.
“I’m what, Branzy?”
“N- nothing.”
“No. I’m what?”
“I- said you were… controlling…”
“Good. I am. Because I love you, Branzy, you know that?”
“L- love you too…”