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“don’t you think i’m pretty?”
wemmbu—ever the narcissist—hopped over to the mirror and did a little twirl, layers upon layers of clothing fluttering like feathers.
he was wearing some ‘weird-ass costume,’ remarked by flame, but in fact, it was Beelzebub! y’know, king of flies and gluttony?…or something—wemmbu thought he was cool.
because yeah, he was pretty.
but he knew flame—his roommate—would never admit it, such pride and whatnot in a blaze hybrid or something—he doesn’t listen to him when he talks.
hate the game, not the player, right?
”you look horrid.” he mumbled, not even looking up from his phone, sprawled across the entirety of the couch.
wemmbu let out an offended gasp, hand pressed dramatically to his chest—head slightly tilted.
”ugh, says the one going in a scream costume,” wemmbu snorted, flicking his hair from his shoulder like he was king.
”whatever, minute’s picking me up. i hope i don’t see you, loser.”
”whatever you say bro.”
— 🎟 —
—wemmbu doesn’t know when he got this drunk.
minute had picked him up—along with eggchan, wemmbu’s best friend and minute’s roommate.
he had drunk a few shots of random party liquid—not enough to actually get him drunk though, maybe a little tipsy, but not slurring his words and stumbling like he was now.
he doesn’t know when he got separated from egg—probably when his drink was spiked.
he doesn’t know when he got dragged into a room after making out with some dude.
but he does know that said dude is a good fuckin’ kisser.
”fuck—“ wemmbu groaned into the other’s mouth as his lip was bit down on, metal lacing both their saliva mixed in their mouth.
with a whine, he gasped, a shudder zipping up his spine.
“take off the damn mask, asshole.” wemmbu slurred out, hands grasping at his shoulders and neck. he could feel himself smiling—even if he didn’t want to.
hands shuffled around to grasp at the hood of his mask, only hard because the man he was making out with decided to wear black to match with his hood, and honestly, wemmbu couldn’t think right now.
dark skin blurred into a mess of watercolor paints as the face of his roommate came into view.
a small, sober part of his brain said ‘oh shit’ the rest said, ‘maaaan, my roomie looking like a steak dinner rn’
—is what wemmbu remembers when he wakes up in the sheets of a bed that’s not his room, but easily recognizing it as his roommates, smell of fire, pine wood, the sorts.
he is sitting upright with his head in his hands, memory pounding with bright lights and even brighter music, and the memory of making out with flame of all people.
why did he do this to himself.
and why doesn’t he feel guilty?
it’s confusing, but the thought of, well, making out with flame doesn’t really… spark something bad inside him, it’s not like the idea of kissing egg, or jaden.
it actually makes his stomach… twist? he’s not sure, he hasn’t felt like this in… ever. actually. he’s never felt like this.
he decided to ask squiddo.
she should know about things like these, right?
— 🎟 —
“squiddo, i think i’m gay for my roommate.”
”well what a banger to start with, tell me more!”
they ended up in a nearby cafe when wemmbu texted her that morning and the reply came instant.
wemmbu had narrowly avoided flame waking up as he tiptoed out the room, careful to shut the door as his face burned wildly. man, this is bullshit.
”i can’t believe this.” wemmbu groaned, face in his hands as he rested his elbows on the table, squiddo stirring her coffee latte or whatever.
”take your time,” she hummed, licking her feet under the table.
“it’s just— ugh!” wemmbu wanted to die the current moment, “i made out with him last night and i think we might have gone home together, well, not really because we live in the same place but i woke up in his bed cuddling him and i don’t know what to do.”
wemmbu inhaled sharply. he did that all in one breath.
”well, that’s a lot to consume.” squiddo almost chirped, her lips releasing the straw of her ice latte. “how you feelin right now?”
“bad.” he mulled it over for a minute, “but also good.”
”i think it’s best if you just talk to him about it, no?”
”yesss… but no. that would be like—“ he makes a weird motion with his hands, “—admitting he won??? i don’t know!”
wemmbu was in shambles.
he doesn’t want to lose, and he’s much too prideful to admit that he might actually wants to kiss flame again. i mean, who would admit that to someone who’s basically their rival??
not him, that’s for sure!
“well,” squiddo sent him a reassuring smile, leaning back on her chair, “like it or not, you’re eventually gonna have to talk to him, and better get it over with now than never, right?”
”doesn’t mean i’m gonna like it.”
”you don’t have to like it. you just gotta figure it out.”
standing up, her knees hit the back of the chair, pushing it backwards as she held her latte in hand, walking past the distressed demon and almost out the exit.
”and maybe, if you’re lucky, you might just get a boyfriend!” she teased before walking out—cafe bell jingling like the toll of his eminent death.
well that gave him no comfort.
— 🎟 —
the dorm was tensely silent, flame sprawled on the couch as wemmbu shut the door behind him, refusing to make eye contact even when flame turned his blindfolded face towards him.
”uh, hey dude,” wemmbu started, wincing at the nervousness in his own voice.
”hey bro.” the piercing stare came soon after the short greetings, studding wemmbu to his place right in front of the door.
”so like, i’m gonna go to my roo—“
”stop.”
he didn’t know why he did. he really didn’t. but his legs froze mid-hurried-step to the hallway of their dorm, his chest dropping for a split second.
”…what up bro?” wemmbu tried—and failed—to mask his pulsing heart with nonchalance, turning swiftly to face flamefrags again, whom had twisted to sit upright on the couch.
“so, about last night.” FUCK. “let’s just pretend that, whatever happened, didn’t. alright?”
EVEN BIGGER FUCK.
”wha— why??”
”fuck you mean ‘why’?? because neither of us are gay, duh!”
”what—? where did you get that from?!”
”well, you’re straight right? wait are you not straight??”
”NO?? i thought you’d known by now!”
”how should i have known?!”
“oh gee, was me and minute dating during the start of the semester not obvious enough??”
”i thought those were rumors! plus why do you not want to forget that— y’know!”
”maybe because i actually like you?? are you DUMB?”
”you what.”
”oh shit.”
the room was filled with awkward silence, wemmbu inhaling sharply as he took one step.
and bolted.
the door of his room slammed shit with a bang that shattered across the rest of the dorm, sliding down the frame with his hand covering his mouth as he tried to breathe correctly.
fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
what the hell did he just do?
hot tears bloomed against purple irises, a ragged breath leaving him as he bit his lip hard enough to bleed—the metallic taste in his mouth reminding him of the party last night.
he didn’t notice what he was saying in the heat of the moment, and it had accidentally slipped out.
oh god, he was such a dumbass.
a unintentional hiccup left him as he tried his very best to not wail out and sob, silent tears working down his lavender pale skin, the slide of paper beside him only worsening the feeling.
…
the slide of paper?
amethyst eyes barely scraped over to see paper slid under his door, a small piece of, well, paper, writing in marker written badly and hurriedly across.
‘do u actly like me’
’yes’ or ‘no’
taking a moment to just stare at the paper, he started feeling warmth through his door. flame was probably waiting. wemmbu scrambled to get a marker from his desk.
after thinking, and a few more crystal tears falling, he hesitantly circled ‘yes.’
the response came not long after, as if flame had been waiting for this. the wood of the door grew warmer, like flame was embarrassed of some sorts.
’i like u too bro. wanna talk abt it?’
’yes’ or ‘no’
wemmbu’s heart almost exploded.
the feeling that coursed through him was unexplainable, something like relief, but heavier. something like shock, but dimmer.
something that sat warm in his chest like soup after a cold day of work.
’mayb l8r’
he shakily wrote, pushing the paper under the door again as a stupid smile growing on his face like some dumb high school girl.
no response came, and slowly, the wood turned back cold—flame probably left, but wemmbu stayed, on the floor with his arms clasped around his chest, shoulders feeling lighter than ever.
maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.