Chapter Text
Froggy can feel Grox glaring daggers into the back of his head.
He can’t help but wonder, why? It’s not like Grox gets anything out of it. Froggy can’t even see him from where he’s sitting.
And, despite what Grox would like Froggy to believe, Grox has no genuine reasons to hate Froggy, who’s sure it’s just a stunt to intimidate him.
Sometimes, though, when Grox makes an effort to stare menacingly at the back of his head during chemistry, or Froggy hears his ranting to his villager buddies about him when he’s completely out of sight, it really seems like Grox genuinely just hates his guts for no reason.
That’s not it, though; there are the glares, the sideways scowls and the dirt Grox is constantly trying to dig up on him, but Froggy also occasionally notices Grox looking at him... almost fondly.
No matter how hard Froggy tries he cannot begin to fathom what’s going on in that boy's head.
“Grox?” The chemistry teacher, a balding man with a full beard with half-moon glasses addresses Grox.
Froggy feels the unrelenting rage of just a moment earlier fade away as Grox perks his head up attentively. “Yes, Mr. Venus?”
“While I have not the pleasure of knowing why you’ve spent the last-” Mr. Venus makes a show of peering at the watch on his wrist. “twenty-seven minutes glowering at the back of Froggy's chair, I would prefer that you shift your attention to page five-hundred of your workbook.”
“Mr. Venus, I have been paying attention to the workbook,” Grox assures him hurriedly. “I’m quite unsure as to what you’re referring to.”
By now, the eyes of all of their classmates are on them, mostly Grox, but some are looking curiously at Froggy as well, as Mr. Venus saunters over to Grox's desk. “Yes, yes. I’m sure this is how you have landed yourself on page four-hundred-fifty-two.”
Froggy very nearly chokes on the breath he'd been inhaling. Grox on the wrong page of the workbook is about as unlikely as if Dr. Phil had come bursting through the wall of their classroom riding a rhinoceros.
The rest of the class seems to think so as well, and they’ve burst into a bout of cackles that lights an inexplicable flame of anger in Grox's chest, and before Froggy can help himself he’s giving his own input on the subject. “Mr. Venus?”
The teacher whirls around sharply. Now the eyes of all of their classmates are on Froggy “Yes?”
“Excuse me, sir, for suggesting that perhaps calling him out in front of the whole class was not entirely necessary.”
Instantly, Mr. Venus is on the alert and Grox fiery gaze is back to burning holes through Froggy’s skull, now more intensely than ever.“Did I ask for your opinion, Froggy?”
He shakes his head politely. “No, Mr. Venus.”
“And so why did you feel as though it would be welcome?”
In a fleeting attempt to calm himself, Froggy takes a deep breath. “Well, I don’t necessarily know why I thought it would be welcome when I suppose Oakridge’s students must constantly refrain from speaking their minds.”
Now Froggy knows that he has gone too far. So does the rest of the class, as he’s now got their undivided attention.
Mr. Venus, meanwhile, has turned completely red and is moving in a way that one could only describe as vibrating “Froggy, Grox, detention.”
Grox's face goes white, and his jaw drops in horror. Where anger had been a moment before, Froggy now feels guilt.
“But, Mr. Venus-” Grox begins, only to be interrupted.
“Don’t you start with me, Grox. You have failed to follow directions for an entire half hour and Froggy over here has decided to talk back to his teacher. Both you and your little friend are all too deserving of an evening’s detention.”
“He’snotmyfriend!” Grox snaps furiously, and it comes out sounding like a single word.
“The both of you will be sent to detention regardless of the state of your relationship,” Mr. Venus proclaims, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t quite know what’s gotten into either of you. My most attentive student abandoning all direction in favor of glaring at Froggy, and my most respectful student talking back to me.” He says the phrase talking back as though it is an unforgivable sin.
A burst of shame pulses briefly through Froggy's body, and he ducks his head down meekly. “I’m sorry for talking back to you, Mr. Venus.”
When Mr. Venus replies, he sounds less angry, but still firm and assertive. “I appreciate that, Froggy, however if you think apologies will get you out of detention then you are sorely mistaken.”
“I understand, Mr. Venus,” Froggy mutters defeatedly whilst Mr. Venus ignores Grox's indignant splutters.
When they get out of class that day, Froggy approaches Grox and opens his mouth to apologize for getting them detention when the latter violently shoves both hands into Froggy's back and pushes him, the force doubling Froggy over before he has a chance to say anything.
The remorse Froggy feels vanishes like a coin from the palm of a magician’s hand. “Well, nevermind, then,” he huffs into thin air once he’s regained his ability to speak, of course Grox is long gone already.
________
Mercifully, Mr. Venus elects to make their detention later in the week. This way Froggy gets a chance to properly explain the situation to his parents before the school can do so first. It’s also beneficial since Froggy has his hopes that by the day of the detention Grox will be less angry.
Grox actually is less angry, but only marginally. He sits at one of the front desks, stiff as a board, staring down Mr. Venus, who is having a bit of trouble acting unfazed.
In fact, he seems relieved when Froggy comes. “Froggy.” He smiles in greeting.
“Good evening, Mr. Venus,” he responds politely. Mr. Venus finally breaks away from Grox's scrutinizing gaze.
“Alright. From now until six-thirty, you two will stay in this classroom. Froggy, choose a spot in the back of the room as to provide limited distractions for both you and Grox.”
Froggy dips his head respectfully, though he is a bit disappointed that, seemingly, he will not be interacting with Grox. He can’t explain why this is, given that the last moment the two of them had really shared had ended with him hunched over and winded. He knows that Grox hates him and that he should be glad to get away.
Still, he can hardly bring himself to be mad with Grox, only mildly exasperated. Sometime in the last couple of days it had clicked that Grox’s being mean to him was probably just a coping mechanism, a way to expel the anger and anxiety that was the effect of the academic pressure piled onto his shoulders like boulders.
Honestly, he feels a bit silly for ever really considering Grox a genuine enemy; he's not malicious, atleast to him, rather a bitter highschool student trying to get through life with relative ease, something which has been made impossible for him by the expectation set.
That being said, Froggy is well aware that there are still no valid excuses for how cruel Grox has been to him. He'd really do best to just stay away, but he doesn’t want to. He wants to-
“Froggy, are you listening?” Mr. Venus looks over at him appraisingly, peering over his glasses. Froggy’s face burns; he thinks of the satisfied grin Grox is undoubtedly wearing.
“Yes, Mr. Venus.”
“Good. So, the two of you will spend your detention time writing one another letters.” He sighs, and Froggy swears there’s a bit of amusement in it. “This is by the request of Headmaster Wellington himself, who believes that more communication between the two of you would resolve the perpetual conflict you seem to be in.”
Froggy tries to exchange a bewildered glance at Grox, who won’t look at him back. He lets Mr. Venus continue. “You shall spend the entire three hours on these letters so that you may have ample time to think about what you would like to communicate, and make sure to do so politely.” He eyes each of them meaningfully. “You may write about whatever you please so long as it’s respectful and school appropriate. We will not ask to read these letters, however if Headmaster Wellington finds out that either correspondence contains any disrespect, then suspension will be considered. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Froggy confirms, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. He’d expected instructions to study. He had not predicted this. Still, he can’t help but be pleased. For the whole year all he’s really wanted is for Grox to actually communicate with him instead of just jumping to the most scandalous conclusions regarding his life, opinions on Grox, and academic behavior.
Then there’s the tiny part of him that’s baffled about the fact that Headmaster Wellington cares at all. Doesn’t he have better things to think about?
“This is ridiculous,” Grox protests, looking horrified. “I don’t want to, and you can’t make me.”
“Very well, Grox.” Mr. Venus nods his head in a show of mock respect. “How would you like to tell this to the Headmaster?”Grox says nothing. “That’s what I thought.” He gives a wide smile. “Well, boys, it’s time to begin writing. Remember that I’ll be here the whole time.”
Froggy pulls a couple sheets of lined paper out of his binder, then grabbing a dark green ballpoint pen from his pencil case. This is as far as he gets before he’s stumped, though.
If he’s being entirely honest with himself, Froggy knows that Grox will never read this.
Grox will, in an act of defiance, throw it into the garbage can, the toilet, the garbage disposal, to the dog…
Does Grox even have a dog? Froggy would guess not.
Hell, he may burn it and make s’mores over the ashes.
A part of Froggy wants to make the letter something genuinely meaningful, and yet he’s hesitant. It would hurt for Froggy to bare his soul to Grox only to have three hours of writing burnt in some fancy-ass firepit, after all.
Besides, if Grox does read it, it will very likely be misconstrued as some sort of attack. So he instead taps into his creative writing skills, taking inspiration from one of his mother’s ridiculous dreams to write the following:
Frog Swamp Apocalypse: A Story by Froggy
NOTE: this piece of creative writing is an attempt to reach out to one Grox, for whom I have been instructed to formulate a letter. As this narrative represents our relationship with one another I felt it an appropriate way to express myself.
Froggy studies it with satisfaction, figuring that if, for whatever reason, Mr. Venus or Headmaster Wellington ends up reading it this will be an appropriate explanation. Even if they don’t quite buy it, they will have no way of proving that Froggy wasn’t being entirely serious.
The story ends up longer than Froggy had initially expected. Every so often as he writes, Froggy looks over to see if he can make out any of the words on Grox’s page. He fails at this, and usually goes back to his own paper whenever Grox’s back goes rigid and he steals a glance at Froggy, evidently having figured out that he’s being watched.
Froggy is almost disappointed when six-thirty rolls around, having to quickly wrap up the story. He’s able to tie up all of the major plot points except for one, which revolves around someone dying his mustache neon green and the entire village convincing him to shave it.
Mr. Venus looks mildly confused as he walks by Froggy’s desk, dropping a paper envelope on the edge and eyeing what has to be at least fifteen pages, front and back, of hurried writing. He doesn’t comment on it, though, instead just shrugging and raising his voice to address both boys.
“Froggy, Grox, thank you for remaining civil throughout this detention. You are both hereby forgiven for your respective offenses. Now, please exchange the letters you have written for one another.”
Froggy grins broadly as he takes the thick envelope in his hand and walks it to the front of the room where Grox is sitting. He looks inexplicably nervous, teeth pressed lightly into his bottom lip. Too late, he attempts to masks the anxiety with a scowl as he reluctantly holds out his own envelope for Froggy to take.
“Thank you,” says Froggy. It’s thin, and Froggy’s sure it’s only one page, meaning it can’t be anything of too much substance. Then again, his is practically novella length but never even directly addresses Grox, so who knows?
He delicately places the envelope in his backpack as he exits the building. Grox is right alongside her, and yet never once spares him a glance, not even to say goodbye. The way he walks away from Froggy and into his car is almost robotic.
Froggy sighs, sitting down on one of the front steps to text his parents. Usually he takes the bus, but since he’s three hours later than usual the bus is no longer available to accommodate his schedule.
“How was detention with Grox?” his mother asks perkily as they ride away.
“Weird,” is the word Froggy decides on. “Mr. Wellington made him and I write letters to eachother.” His mother looks at him with a curious expression.
“For the whole three hours?” Froggy nods his confirmation. “Why?”
“I don’t know!” Froggy cries helplessly, throwing his hands into the air with exasperation. “Mr. Venus says it’s because we might hate eachother less if we communicate. Apparently Headmaster Wellington was in on it, too. What does he care?” Exhaustion finally creeping in, Froggy buries his face into his hands.
“What did you write?” his mother wants to know.
“Oh, just gibberish,” Froggy tells her. “Remember that dream Doom had about the swamp water factory? I basically just wrote him a whole novel about that.”
His mother lets out a bark of laughter. “I don’t suppose you saved a copy for me?”
“No, I don’t think Mr. Venus would’ve been so keen to let me at his copying machine,” Froggy deadpans.
“Well, tell Grox to give it when he’s done.”
“I figure he’ll probably destroy it,” Froggy points out. “That’s why I didn’t bother actually with the whole letter thing.”
His mother hums with understanding. “Have you read his yet?”
“No.” Froggy rolls his eyes. “I think I’ll wait until tomorrow to read a bunch of passive aggressive comments about myself.”
“Not just outwardly aggressive? Why not?” His mother wants to know.
“Mr. Venus said he’d get us suspended if we were mean to eachother in the letters, and there’s no way he’ll have risked that.”
His mother nods in understanding. “Well, let me know if there are any gems. Knowing Grox, there will be.”
________
Dear Froggy,
I’m not actually all that mad at you for what happened earlier this week. You were just trying to defend me, which was pretty stupid of you.
Actually, I take it back. I was mad at you, I was just mad at you for being stupid. Now I can’t even bash you for being the teacher’s pet. I’m honestly running out of things to bash you for, since you’re proving to be so damn nice.
It’s starting to become a problem. You know that, Froggy. Half of the time I’m convinced that it’s the reason you’re so nice in the first place. But sometimes I’m not so sure.
Last month, I saw you rescue a praying mantis from being stepped on. You yelled at the kid to stop and everything, even though you were really stressed that day (I never did find out why). That’s a special brand of kindness, one that can’t be faked.
I was trying to determine what’s so frustrating about your niceness the other day, and I think I’ve figured it out. It’s just that you don’t flaunt your virtue.
Most self-proclaimed ‘nice’ people just do it so that they can say their nice, but you know what? Real, honest-to-God good people don’t brag about how good they are. It took me a stupid amount of time to figure that out, but who can blame me? I only know one good person, after all.
Maybe I should have found some shitty person to throw my anger at instead. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so guilty. Maybe then we could be friends. I could never be friends with you, though. You’re too good, but even beyond that it wouldn’t work.
You live in your own little world of sunshine and rainbows. I should know. You’ve let me visit a couple of times. It was fun, but I belong in my world and you belong in yours and there’s nothing I can do about that, so I’d rather despise you for it.
I think I’ve been lying to myself about the nature of our relationship, though. We’re not quite enemies, and we’re not quite friends. It’s taken me two painful years to accept that we’re in an entirely different realm, full of possibility... do with that what you will.
Actually, nevermind. Do with that nothing.
You shouldn’t have to have anything to do with me, let alone in a not-quite-enemies but not-quite-friends sort of way.
Your colleague,
Grox
This is, inarguably, the most confusing letter Froggy has ever received. It’s even more confusing than his brother's writing, which is scattered and filled with nonsense.
First and foremost, Froggy feels like a bit of an asshole for writing what he did when Grox seems to have genuinely taken the assignment seriously.
In his defense, though, he never could have predicted that Grox would write anything real. Froggy was sure that, even through writing, Grox would have felt the need to hide behind fake anger. Clearly, this had not been the case.
Then there’s the issue of the final paragraph, which Froggy cannot begin to decipher. What the hell does any of that mean? Froggy bites his lip, pulling out a separate piece of paper. Neatly, he dictates the last paragraph onto it, skipping lines so that he can write notes between the rows in the same dark green ballpoint pen he’d used to write his story.
The first line, where Grox says I think I’ve been lying to myself about the nature of our relationship makes a fair amount of sense.
He’s referring to the fact that, for as long as they’ve known one another, Grox has thought that they were mortal enemies. Later in the paragraph he admits they’re not, though, so it’s not too confusing for Froggy. He scribbles this down underneath the line.
Even the next two bits of writing are somewhat logical.
We’re not quite enemies, and we’re not quite friends. It’s taken me two painful years to accept that we’re in an entirely different realm.
a bit dramatic, if Froggy does say so himself, but it makes sense for the same reasons as the first line. He jots this down as well.
It’s the last part that Froggy is so thoroughly befuddled over.
We’re in an entirely different realm, full of possibility...do with that what you will. Actually, nevermind. Do with that nothing. You shouldn’t have to have anything to do with me, let alone in a not-quite-enemies but not-quite-friends sort of way.
Grox is referring to the potential of a relationship in which they are neither friends nor enemies, and Froggy’s not entirely sure what that means. What type of relationship? And how would it be more painful than their being friends or nemeses?
Froggy makes a mental note to show the letter to his Doom later to see if his brother can make sense of it. Knowing him this won’t do any good, but it’ll be nice to be able to share it with someone nonetheless.
Besides, it takes one to know one, and Grox and Doom are both a bit insane.
With a defeated sigh Froggy pushes the letter back into the envelope, as well as his notes on it. He puts the whole thing in the bottom of a drawer in his desk before heading into his closet to grab his uniform. He has school to attend, after all.
Still, he can’t stop thinking about the letter and the intimacy of it. Three relatively simple paragraphs and Grox has him entirely at a loss.
Sure, Froggy has known for quite a bit of time that Grox has emotions other than raging hatred and sadism, but to see Grox openly acknowledging this is, frankly, a little bit jarring. Froggy can’t help but feel touched, though, that Grox has chosen him to share this with, and him saying that Froggy is the only good person he knows does things to Froggy’s heart. Grox deserves much better people in his life.
And then there’s the part where Grox essentially said he didn’t feel welcome in the swamp when Froggy invited him over, well not necessarily that, his exact words had been that "you live in your own little world of sunshine and rainbows but that I belong in my world" and this also makes him a little sad. He wonders if there’s anything he can do about it.
His heart does a strange skip at the idea of running into Grox at school that day after having read his letter.
He dismisses it as nerves.
________
________
“What the hell is this!?” Grox screeches it furiously, cheeks red as he waves a fistful of lined paper in Froggy’s face.
It's hauntingly familiar lined paper, the pages covered in green ink. Froggy grimaces.
“That’s, uh, I wrote a story.” He notices herself twiddling his thumbs. Huh, he’d been unaware that that’s something people actually do.
“No, frog man” Grox chokes harshly. “It’s not a story. It’s a joke.”
“D-did you even read it?” Froggy knows he shouldn’t even be trying to defend himself at this point, and yet he feels a little defiant. How had he been supposed to know that Grox would give him a sweet, heartfelt letter?
“I didn’t have to.” The glare Grox gives him brings Froggy a twinge of guilt that he can’t quite get rid of. “I didn’t have to read it to know what it insinuates. I was wrong, and our relationship is just one big joke.”
Froggy gapes in protest. “Gro- no! I just-”
“You said up here that this story represents our relationship.” Grox jabs an almost accusatory finger at the top of one of the pages. Froggy’s heart plummets as he remembers that the paper does, in fact, say this. “Well, this story is a joke. So are we, right?”
He tries to stare Froggy in the eyes but fails miserably, and ends up ducking his head down in what can only be embarrassment.
Froggy attempts to put a comforting hand on his shoulder only to have it jerked away.
“Grox, I don’t think you understand,” he tries, knowing that his last-ditch attempt to curb the boy’s fury will fail miserably.
He and Grox have gotten over fights before, but it always takes at least a week and a half. “I was just-” He wants to say that he had been afraid that if he he been honest about his feelings Grox would brutally reject any notion of friendship, but he can’t quite get the words past his throat.
“No. It’s fine.” Grox backs away, folding his arms over his chest. Then, he holds his hand out authoritatively. “Now give it.”
“Give what?” Now Froggy is genuinely puzzled. He cocks his head in confusion.
“The letter,” Grox seethes, the hand still at his side balled up into a fist. “Give me the damn letter.”
“I don’t have it!” Froggy puts his hands in front of him in some form of protection. “I left it at home.”
“That’s bullshit, isn’t it?” Grox eyes him harsh and suspiciously.
“No!” Froggy spits, feeling himself begin to shake. He’d predicted that morning that Grox’s reaction to his ‘letter’ would be less than pleasant, but this is even worse than he’d thought. “Just give me a chance to try and explain myself, okay, dude?”
“Don’t call me that!” Grox snaps. He glowers at Froggy, taking his hand away. “You can take the letter. Just never speak to me again.”
Just as he begins to walk away, Froggy grabs at his wrist. “Wait! I still want to explain. Just let me, okay?”
“Can’t,” Grox says briskly, struggling to escape Froggy’s grasp. “Class.”
“Class isn’t for another ten minutes.” Froggy loosens his grip on Grox’s wrist. Then, gently, “please?”
Finally Grox relents, his posture relaxing a little bit. “Fine.”
Froggy takes a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to not mess this up. Here goes nothing, he thinks. “I wanted to write you a real letter. I really did. I just couldn’t.” He shrugs helplessly. “My… Brother does this thing where, whenever our family tries to ask him a question about his love life or whatever, he just makes some stupid joke instead, and I think I’ve picked up that habit from him.”
By some miracle, his words actually seem to be having a calming effect on Grox, though he’s still tense. “Okay,” he says cautiously.
“A-and I really liked your letter. I thought it was sweet.”
Grox raises his eyebrows, his usual confidence returning briefly as he puts a hand to his hip. “Sweet, huh?”
“Yeah.” Something in Grox’s tone seems almost sarcastic. Froggy just doesn’t understand why. “What’s wrong with sweet?”
“It’s condescending as hell, that’s for sure,” Grox scoffs, rolling his eyes, though Froggy can see that the bulk of his anger is gone now, replaced with caution and hesitance.
“I didn’t mean to be condescending,” Froggy backtracks quickly. “I just mean that it’s not a side of you I’ve ever seen before. It’s nice to get into your head a little, is all. I never realized how much you cared about our friendship, and it’s nice to know. I do, too, and I’m so sorry ever you got the idea that I didn’t.”
There’s a moment where Froggy has to brace himself, he never knows how Grox is going to react to what he says. Grox still doesn’t seem particularly angry, though, which has to be a good sign, right?
“How much I care about our friendship…” He says it carefully, delicately. “And that’s it?”
“Yeah.” Froggy’s not sure what Grox is getting at, but he’s more than happy to go along with it if it means he can amend his relationship with Grox in what could potentially be record time. “Because we are friends, whatever you may think.”
Grox sags with visible relief. He still seems embarrassed, but, somehow, he’s missing the tense air of a moment ago. Again, Froggy isn’t sure why this is but is far too wise to question it.
“Friends.”
“Yeah.”
There’s a pause, and then Grox says, “I lied, you know. I did read your story.”
A wide grin spreads across Froggy’s face. “Oh! Cool! Do you think I could get a publishing deal?”
“Absolutely not,” Grox responds, sounding completely confident in this answer. Then, shyly, “but it made me laugh.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Froggy tells him, though he’s vaguely puzzled as to how Grox could have ever laughed at the very same story that had caused him such intense emotional anguish. It seems as though this is just how Grox works.
Then the bell rings. Froggy jerks up in surprise; he’d been unaware of the time when he and Grox had been talking. “Nice talking to you,” he says by way of farewell.
Grox turns to walk away, and Froggy is almost sure he mutters something about the damn frog epidemic.
________
“So how did school go?” Doom asks Froggy the minute they both get home from school that day, even going so far as to switch off the TV, which had been playing some obscure comedy when they entered the house.
“No hello or anything?” Froggy asks in a mockingly cross tone, raising his eyebrows at his brother.
“Hello. Now tell me how school went.” Doom fixes him with an annoying grin, evidently not letting him leave until he gets an answer.
“And by that you mean tell you the latest updates to the trash fire that has been the situation with Grox,” Froggy concludes, venturing further into the house and heading into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee.
“Yep!” confirms Doom from the living room. Froggy returns, mug in hand, and sits down on the couch next to his brother to tell the story.
“Well, we talked. Grox was really pissed with me at first, what else is new, but we had a chance to talk it out and I think it went pretty well. The situation with him is neutralized, at least for now.”
“You put out the trash fire?” Doom wrestles the coffee mug from Froggy’s hand, takes a gulp, and hands it back. Froggy is so used to this that he doesn’t bother to comment on it, just rolling his eyes.
“Yeah. I’m still a bit confused, though.”
Doom turns to face Froggy, then cocking his head with curiosity. “Confused how?”
Froggy sighs, his head drooping. Hair falls around his shoulders, and he swipes it out of the way so he can still see Doom in the edge of his vision. “I don’t really know how to explain, but all through his letter and our conversation today, I just felt like I was missing something. Something Grox clearly expected me to get.”
Froggy frowns thoughtfully, hand reaching up to his chin to stroke a nonexistent beard. “I think I have a theory,” he declares eventually. “It might be pretty far-fetched, though.”
At this point, Froggy is willing to hear any sort of explanation for what has clearly been a blind spot in his field of emotional vision. “A far-fetched theory is better than no theory. Shoot.”
“Let me read the letter first,” Doom demands, holding out his hand. Froggy thinks about this, trying to determine whether or not it would be respectful to Grox to show his brother the letter.
Eventually he decides that, since he shares everything with his brother, he might as well, so he heads to their room to pull the sheet of lined paper from the envelope.
“Well, this is a first,” Doom comments. “You needing my help analyzing literature.”
“It’s not exactly literature,” Froggy points out.
“If Grox wrote it it is.”
“Alright.” Froggy takes a deep breath after a moment, extending the paper to Doom “What do you think? Does your theory check out?”
It takes Doom a couple minutes to scan through all of the writing on the page, muttering its contents under his breath. Froggy watches anxiously as Doom's eyes float over the words.
Eventually, Doom folds up the page, sucking in a breath as his eyes flicker back up to Froggy. This is Serious Doom he’s looking at, which is weird because Froggy genuinely can’t remember the last time he saw Serious Doom, let alone the last time his appearance led to something good.
“Oh, yeah. It checks out, alright. It checks out even better than I expected.”
“Well are you going to tell me?” Froggy demands, starting to panic at the sudden appearance of Serious Doom. “Is he okay? Is he dying? Is this something we need to worry about?”
Doom considers for a moment, biting concentratedly at his bottom lip. “No, but we already knew that.” Doom lets out a light huff of laughter and Froggy is relieved that the serious is fading away. “Probably not, and it depends.”
“Tell me,” Froggy persists through gritted teeth.
“Okay.” Doom turns so that they’re facing eachother, taking Froggy’s hands in his own as he announces, “Froggy, he’s in love with you.”
Froggy finds himself snorting with laughter. After all of the buildup, he’d not really been expecting one of Doom's jokes. “Alright, good one. You had me for a moment there.”
Yet Doom doesn’t burst into laughter, nor does the look on his face break into a smile.“No, really. I’m not yanking your chain or anything. He’s actually in love with you. In, like the romantic sense.” Froggy looks at him with a dumbfounded frown, and he sighs. “Froggy, with all I hear you ranting about heteronormity and historians straight-washing historical events, I wouldn’t have expected this from you.”
“What do you mean?” Froggy squawks, gawking once he realizes that Doom's not actually pulling his leg. “What do you mean , he’s in l-love with me?” He cringes slightly at the word love , and he can feel his heart pounding in his chest.
Doom raises his eyebrows. “Bro, did you know that gay people are, like, actually real, or is this something you’re just learning now?”
“Of course I knew that,” Froggy scoffs, defensiveness momentarily replacing shock and disbelief. Then the shock and disbelief come back, because of course they do. “But there’s no way Grox can be interested in me. He hates me.” Still, his resolve is beginning to crumble as he realizes that Doom may have a point.
He’s in denial, though, and is determined to put up a fight.
“Not according to this letter, he doesn’t.” Doom waves said letter in front of Froggy’s face, then unfolding it and reading. “He says here that you’re not actually enemies and that you’re too good and the only reason he’s snippy with you is that he’d rather despise you for it . It’s all here, man, if you know what you’re looking for.”
“Okay, well…” Froggy fumbles, deciding to change tactics, because Doom's reasoning makes an alarming amount of sense. “Who signs off a love letter with 'your colleague'?”
“Grox does!” Doom shouts empathetically, then lowering his voice. “Sorry, that was a little loud. But really. Doesn’t he, a rich, spoiled private school kid, seem like the kind of person who would do that?”
“He sort of does,” Froggy admits, gaze suddenly shifting to his coffee. “But that doesn’t mean anything. He’d sign off of any letter like that regardless of the content or recipient.”
“True,” Doom allows, if a little reluctantly. “But, look. What was it that confused you about this letter?”
“The last paragraph,” says Froggy hurriedly, mostly just glad that this is something he’s actually capable of answering.
“Okay, well, and this is fun, the last paragraph is actually the most outwardly romantic part.” He leans in to let Froggy see the words as well, then jabbing at them with his finger. “What does 'it’s taken me two painful years to accept that we’re an entirely different realm' mean if not 'we’re super gay and I was in denial for two years' ?”
“We’re super gay?” Froggy gawks at his brother, his heart speeding up. He feels like he’s about to vomit, and there’s an adrenaline in his veins that makes him want to get onto his feet and run away as quickly as he can. “Hold up. I thought we were talking about Grox’s feelings towards me. Not the other way around.”
Doom lets out a quiet scoff, and Froggy can feel his cheeks burn red. “What?”
“You know what, forget it. That’s a conversion for tomorrow. For now, I’ll leave you with this: Grox digs you. A lot. Get used to it.”
Once he’s finished, he gives himself a satisfied nod, gets up and walks away, leaving Froggy in an all-encompassing state of panic that can’t be stifled with obscene amounts of junk food.