Work Text:
—
It’s coming up to three months now.
What started as a form of stress relief a few days a week ended up both evolving and devolving into whatever they have now - Pac’s over at the house almost every night, sometimes it’s what they’re used to, passionate and borderline animalistic, and other times it’s complete silence punctured only by the faint sounds of the television.
He wonders what he’s in for tonight as he knocks on the door, it quickly swings open and Cellbit smiles as he ushers Pac in, gently closing the door behind him.
When, five minutes later, Pac is sitting on the sofa beside Cellbit cradling a mug of coffee, he supposes a quiet night is on the cards.
“So how was your day?” Cellbit asks politely, taking a sip of his own coffee.
“Good,” Pac replies, “Work was pretty tiring today.”
He closely watches Cellbit’s expression to see how he interprets his answer - and when all Cellbit does is smile sympathetically, Pac suppresses the urge to roll his eyes - at one point Cellbit would have tugged him up the stairs without a second thought.
“Sorry to hear that,” Cellbit takes another sip. “You know what i’ve found is a good stress reliever?”
Pac leans forward expectantly, maybe the night won’t be a total bust.
“Boxing,” Cellbit continues, and Pac gently slumps back against the sofa. “Beating the shit out of something really helps you forget about stuff for a while.”
Not wanting to be rude, Pac nods. “Really? Maybe i’ll have to give it a try.”
“You should,” Cellbit smiles, and rests his mug on the coffee table. He picks up the television remote. “Now I have to show you this documentary, ancient puzzles have been discovered recently!”
If Cellbit was anyone else, Pac would have probably made an excuse to leave. But their friendship rests on six years of foundations, and even though they firmly crossed the friend boundary a few months ago, Pac refuses to let himself wreck it all just because he’s bitter about not getting laid that night.
And so he sits through the documentary, feigning excitement as Cellbit continues to pause it to try to solve the puzzles before the presenters tell the answers.
Pac decides he still, after all of this time, still hates documentaries.
His interest is reignited, however, when the front door slams and a deep voice calls a hello.
“Hey, Fit,” Cellbit calls, eyes not moving from the television screen as he studies the puzzle.
“Who’s Fit?” Pac whispers, but Cellbit doesn’t respond, completely transfixed in his puzzle-solving state of mind.
It’s then that another man enters the room, looking absolutely exhausted and with a gym bag slung over his shoulder.
Pac has to pay special attention to making sure his jaw doesn’t hit the floor at the sight of the extremely attractive man in front of him.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had a guest over,” the man apologises, looking slightly embarrassed. “I’ll just grab a shower and i’ll be out of your hair.”
“Aha I get it, because you’re bald,” Cellbit quips. “Good one.”
“Yeah i’ve never heard that one before,” Fit replies playfully. He then shoots a polite smile at Pac before leaving the room and heading upstairs.
“Cellbit who the hell is that?” Pac says softly, just in case Fit is still in earshot.
“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you,” Cellbit laughs as he dramatically facepalms himself. “I got a roommate. Since Bagi moved in with Tina, I had a free room so thought why not get some extra money.”
He then shrugs as if it’s the most casual answer in the world - when the easiest option surely would have been for Pac himself to move in, there’s a reason that they only ever meet at Cellbit’s house.
“Right,” Pac takes it all in. “And how long has he been living here?”
“About two weeks,” Cellbit replies, leaning forward, still not breaking his focus from the screen.
Pac practically chokes on his next sip of coffee. “Two weeks? You mean he was here last time we-“
Cellbit dismisses him with a wave of his hand. “He’s a grown man, Pac. I’m sure he knows that people fuck.”
Pac cringes internally and falls into a silence, acutely aware of every creak of the floorboards upstairs as Fit walks around.
—
The next morning, Pac allows himself to sleep in. Cellbit leaves for work early, and so he takes full advantage of the king sized bed and stretches as far as he can.
Eventually he does get up, albeit reluctantly, and as he sleepily walks down the stairs whilst tugging his hoodie over his shirt, he’s met with a distinct smell of burning.
With a slight panic he briskly walks around the house trying to find the source, clutching his phone in his hands ready to dial the emergency services.
When he enters the kitchen, he’s met with a sight he most definitely did not anticipate.
Fit dashes around the kitchen in a panic, every window and the back door wide open, and he desperately tries to waft the burning smell out of the windows with his hands, whilst thin plumes of black smoke continue to drift upwards from the oven.
“Uh, are you okay?” Pac asks, loud enough to be heard over the strings of swear words Fit is mumbling under his breath.
Fit freezes, evidently not having seen Pac stood in the doorway. He turns to face him with wide, pleading eyes.
“I think my breakfast is burning.”
At this, they both burst into laughter.
Pac helps him clear everything away and waits with him until the kitchen no longer smells of burning, and watches with a careful eye as Fit once again tries to cook breakfast.
“You’re already doing better,” Pac teases as Fit retrieves the food from the oven, cooked to perfection this time.
“Fast learner, what can I say,” Fit replies, but his back is to Pac as he plates up the food.
Not wanting to be a distraction, Pac plays on his phone for a few minutes, only to be distracted himself as a full breakfast is placed in front of him.
Fit sits beside him at the table, identical food on his plate, he’s split everything equally.
“This is your breakfast, i’ll just get some cereal or something,” Pac pushes the plate towards Fit, who swiftly pushes it back to him.
“It’s our breakfast, consider it a thank you for helping me not get evicted after only a couple of weeks,” Fit smiles, and Pac returns it.
“Well, Cellbit is very house proud,” Pac chuckles. “When we lived together for university, I accidentally spilled spaghetti onto one of the cushions and he didn’t talk to me for a week.”
Fit stares at him with wide eyes. “Seriously?”
Pac nods. “Cross my heart.”
“Guess i’m never leaving my room again, then,” Fit jokes, and they fall into a comfortable silence.
Pac can’t help but keep casting glances towards Fit, he can’t put his finger exactly on why, but he’s so intrigued by Fit.
“Thank you, by the way. I do really appreciate the help again, Pac.” Fit says suddenly, and Pac jumps slightly in his seat as if he’d been caught doing something illegal by looking at the other man.
“Oh, you know my name? It saves an awkward introduction when we’ve already been talking!” Pac gushes, already willing himself to shut up. He’s, for some reason, overly conscious of every word he says.
He notices that the tips of Fit’s ears are stained faintly red with a blush, and wonders why.
“Well, uh, let’s just say that Cellbit isn’t exactly… quiet at night.”
And just like that, Pac welcomes death. He’s had a good run, but the attractive man heard one of his best friends scream Pac’s name as they were fucking, fantastic. Truly thank you to the universe, Pac thinks.
He also quickly dismisses the fact that his subconscious screams how attractive he finds Fit.
At receiving no response, Fit clears his throat and laughs nervously. “Well, uh, i’ll get the dishes cleaned up. Thanks again.”
And with that he picks up both plates - neither of them have finished eating - and turns his back to Pac to put all of his focus on cleaning the dishes, scrubbing each one for a lot longer than needed.
But Pac takes the opportunity to all but sprint up the stairs, gather his stuff and slip out of the front door as quietly as possible.
—
The following night, Pac arrives later than usual after agreeing to take on another shift at work, but Cellbit has waited up for him and lets him in with the same smile as if he’d turned up in the early evening.
“I wish you’d leave that place,” Cellbit says as he studies Pac’s face, concern etched into his features. “You look exhausted, they don’t care about your wellbeing.”
“I’m fine,” Pac replies instantly. “It’s just a job, don’t worry about it.”
He chooses to leave out the fact that he got absolutely no sleep the night before as he was constantly replaying his awkward interaction with Fit, and wishing he didn’t just leave without saying anything.
“That’s not it,” Cellbit shakes his head. “You look as exhausted as you did when you and Mike took all those pills to try and stay awake for a week through the second year exams.”
Sometimes Pac wishes he didn’t enter the whole friends with benefits situation with his actual friend. Nevertheless one of his very best friends. The fact that they know so much about each other only seems to cause issues.
“It’s not that kind of exhausted, honestly. Don’t worry.”
Cellbit presses his lips together but doesn’t say anything more on the matter.
“I’ve got an early start tomorrow so i’m probably going to head to bed, you coming?” he asks, and Pac glances at him, and not seeing any form of mischievous sparkle in Cellbit’s eyes, he’s surprised at how little it affects him.
“Am I okay to just stay for a while? Need to get out of the work state of mind.”
Cellbit nods. “Of course, Pac. This is practically your house anyway, do whatever you want.” He leaves with another smile.
Pac sinks into the sofa cushions, and runs his hands through his hair as he tries to process all of the thoughts racing through his mind.
He listens for a while to Cellbit’s overbearing singing from where he’s showering, then switches on the television just for something to take his mind off of his own thoughts.
Surprisingly, he does manage to switch his mind off for a while as he finds a rerun of one of his favourite sitcoms, and indulges in the nostalgia.
He gets so wrapped up in it that he doesn’t notice another presence enter the room.
“This is one of my favourite episodes!” Fit exclaims, startling Pac and stealing his attention instantly. “May I?” he gestures to the sofa, and Pac nods wordlessly.
Fit drops his gym bag on the floor and sits beside him, and for some reason Pac finds himself holding his breath. Probably, he reckons, so he can’t say anything else stupid.
“Did you know that those two were actually fucking behind the scenes?” Fit points towards the screen to where an onscreen couple were sharing a passionate embrace.
“No way, really?” Pac responds, genuinely shocked at hearing it.
“Swear on my life,” Fit makes a cross gesture over his heart. “There’s a documentary about, like, behind the scenes secrets of popular sitcoms. I think I still have it saved.”
“Can we watch?” Pac hears himself ask.
He violently hates documentaries, they’ve never been able to keep his attention, so why is he actively requesting one?
As he watches Fit nod excitedly and begin to pull the documentary up on his phone, smiling and cracking stupid jokes and quoting the show, there’s a gnawing feeling in the pit of Pac’s stomach that tells him he knows the answer.
Pac catches sight of a piece of paper on the coffee table, and quickly realises it’s covered in Cellbit’s scrawled handwriting, from when he was trying to decode the puzzles from the other night. The gnawing feeling in his stomach intensifies.
“We can’t watch it without popcorn, though. It’s practically a sin,” Fit gets to his feet. “Any preference?”
The question makes Pac’s throat run dry.
It’s perfectly innocent, of course, but it’s the same question that his subconscious is nagging at him to answer in an absolutely not innocent context. Just as the floorboards upstairs creak as Cellbit moves around.
Pac bites on his lip and forces himself to look away from Fit and shakes his head.
Fit either doesn’t notice Pac’s reluctance or doesn’t bother to mention it as he walks to the kitchen and begins preparing popcorn and humming to himself.
Pac tugs on his drawstrings of his hoodie and bites down harder on his lip. He really wishes he could interpret his own thoughts, it would make things a hell of a lot easier.
When Fit returns a few minutes later, the popcorn bowl rests between them.
Pac refuses to let cliches happen and so always carefully checks that, when he reaches for popcorn, Fit isn’t also reaching.
When he tries to sleep beside Cellbit later in the night, he also refuses to acknowledge the definite feeling of regret that ripples through his veins.
—
The following morning, Pac pretends to be asleep when Cellbit leaves, and proceeds to lay silently as he listens for any sign of movement in the house.
When the only sound is his own breaths, he deems it clear to leave, and slips out of Cellbit’s bedroom taking a deep breath. He has a very good idea why he feels so on edge but is absolutely not ready to actively acknowledge it.
He ends up sitting on the kitchen counter, cradling his mug of coffee - he only uses the pacman mug that Cellbit bought him for his last birthday, before they crossed the boundary, when things made more sense. It now stays at Cellbit’s house as Pac is there more than at his own place anyway.
He looks out at the garden, watching as the birds jump around the fences and butterflies dance in the breeze.
He puts in his earphones, putting the music library on shuffle - he needs the distraction. No thoughts of Fit, no thoughts of Cellbit, he’ll take quite literally anything else.
When three consecutive songs are about cheating and love triangles, he’s all but lost the will to live. Then in comes a song with nothing to do with relationships at all, and everything makes sense again.
The coffee tastes extra delicious when his mind is distracted elsewhere, and he’s gently swaying along with his music as he cleans the dishes, saving Cellbit a job when he returns from work.
He’s just putting away the final plate when his playlist finishes, inkeeping with his phone’s incessant beeping as it needs charging.
With the plate in one hand and his phone in the other, he dismisses the third notification begging for the phone to be charged and turns his attention back to the cupboard, to put away the plate.
At least, that would have been the plan.
Then Fit walks in wearing only a towel, beads of water still trickling down his skin.
And the plate swiftly meets the tiled floor, and smashes everywhere.
Fit looks down at the plate, then at Pac, with wide eyes, but doesn’t say a word.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Pac repeats, desperately tiptoeing between shards of the plate to retrieve the broom which rests in the corner of the room.
“Hang on, Pac,” Fit says calmly, and dashes out of the room. Pac barely hears him, focusing on sweeping all shards into a messy pile.
Fit, now clothed, jogs back over and holds a bag open for Pac to sweep the shards into.
“We can never, ever tell Cellbit about this,” Fit laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “If he’s as house proud as you say, i’ll be out on my ass.”
“It’s my fault anyway, you’d be fine,” Pac responds with a smile. “And he’s known me for so long he wouldn’t bother kicking me out.”
Fit smiles, but it drops as he looks down. Pac follows his line of sight.
“Pac, you’re bleeding.”
Sure enough, there’s a thin trickle of blood from one of his fingers, despite him thinking he was extremely careful when cleaning up.
“Hold on,” Fit says, walking over to the other side of the kitchen and retrieving a first aid box.
“Is that Cellbit’s? He’s had that thing since he was about fifteen,” Pac laughs as Fit flips open the lid and begins rummaging around.
“Uh, I don’t know,” Fit replies, evidently not really paying attention. “He just told me there’s a first aid kid in this cupboard in case of emergencies.”
“Hardly an emergency,” Pac says flippantly, but Fit completely ignores him.
He eventually walks back over, clutching a thin bandage in his hands.
“This will have to do,” he says, biting his lip. “It’s all there is, doesn’t seem like Cellbit’s restocked it in a while.”
“Fit, honestly, it’s only a little-“
“Pac, please,” Fit interrupts. “We need to make sure it doesn’t get infected or anything. Stick it under the cold water for a couple of seconds whilst I unravel this.”
And Pac complies. He hisses slightly as the water stings against the graze, washing away the trickle of red.
“Now here,” Fit’s voice is soft.
He takes gentle hold of Pac’s wrist and holds it with one hand, and, with surprising tenderness, wraps the bandage around Pac’s finger with the other hand.
Fit’s gentle touch leaves Pac breathless. As he studies his work to check that the bandage is suitably secured, Fit smiles.
“I think you’ll be okay,” he says, and feigns wiping his forehead. “My work here is done.”
He then lets go of Pac’s hand, and Pac immediately misses it. He fights the urge to take Fit’s hand again, wanting to know if they would fit each other like a glove, like he suspects.
They find themselves staring at each other for a few long moments, and Pac almost kids himself into believing that he can interpret some of the thoughts swirling behind Fit’s eyes.
He’s certain that they both take a step forward, drawn to each other from some unquestionable string of fate.
But then they’re interrupted by Fit’s phone.
They both clear their throats and look away - Pac pretends to look through one of the cupboards whilst Fit looks at his phone.
“Oh fuck, i’m late,” Fit curses to himself. “Listen, Pac, i’ll see you around, yeah?”
Pac turns around to respond but Fit has already left the room, running upstairs.
“Yeah,” Pac says to the empty room, looking down to his bandaged finger. “See you around, Fit.”
—
“So what’s new?” Mike asks, sitting back and watching his best friend intently.
Pac squirms under Mike’s knowing gaze, he’s always been able to read Pac like a book.
Everyone around them has always joked that they must have a telepathic bond, and there are odd occasions when Pac thinks they might be onto something - but then Mike completely misinterprets something and Pac feels safe knowing his thoughts are only his own.
“Same old.” Pac replies, giving no more information.
Mike takes a long sip of his milkshake and makes direct eye contact.
“Still doing the whole friends with benefits thing with Cellbit?”
Pac then proceeds to choke on his own milkshake. As he chokes, Mike simply watches on with a smirk.
“Fuck’s sake, Pac. Give me some credit,” Mike rolls his eyes. “Last time we all met up, did you really think I didn’t notice when you both slipped away and came back together with messy hair and, uh-“ Mike trails off and taps the side of his neck.
Pac pulls his hoodie up, tighter around his neck. There’s nothing there now, but he still feels the need to cover it.
“So he’s not cast you aside yet, interesting,” Mike ponders. “I’m surprised you haven’t tried to make it official yet, you’re hardly a casual kind of guy.”
“I can be casual!” Pac protests. “I don’t need to be in a relationship, Mike!”
Mike temples his fingers. “Okay, so if Cellbit asked you to make things official right now, you’d say no?”
The question makes Pac feel like pure ice shoots through his veins, and the world stills around him.
The fact that Pac doesn’t immediately answer causes Mike’s smirk to grow. He cackles and gently kicks Pac’s leg under the table.
“You’re so predictable,” he laughs. “You’ll be showing up at Cellbit’s house with a bouquet of roses and a radio blasting love songs before the month ends!”
Pac merely blinks at him. Mike doesn’t notice and continues his teasing.
“You’d be one of those insufferable couples always touching and kissing in public, wouldn’t you?” Mike laughs. “Probably for the best it stays a secret. Well, not so secret.” He winks dramatically.
When Pac still doesn’t say anything, frozen in place, Mike continues.
“Now you’re not even talking to me? Too accurate that it scares you?” Mike laughs again, taking a long sip of his drink. “Alright, alright, no more Cellbit talk. If you want to stay his fuck buddy, who am I to judge?”
He lifts his glass. “Cheers to you and,” Mike pauses and grins. “Him.”
Pac manages to find the strength to lift his own glass to clink against Mike’s, before Mike launches into a thankfully different conversation.
“Cellbit was saying that he might be throwing a house party soon, did he tell you?”
Pac shakes his head.
“Yeah, apparently he and Bagi are both up for promotions, both Senior Detectives I think. He really didn’t tell you this? He never shuts up about it to me.”
“No, he never mentioned it.”
“Weird,” Mike shrugs. “Ask him about it. Get some roleplay in before hopping into bed.”
Pac throws a balled up napkin at his best friend.
Whether or not Mike has a point is irrelevant.
—
“Why didn’t you tell me you were up for a promotion?” Pac asks.
He’s brushing his teeth beside Cellbit in the en suite bathroom, so his words are incredibly muffled.
“I didn’t?” Cellbit replies, raising an eyebrow.
“No, Mike had to tell me!” Pac follows Cellbit into the bedroom, flailing his arms. “It feels like you barely tell me anything anymore!”
Cellbit sighs as he pulls off his shirt. “Pac, we’re not dating, I don’t have to tell you everything.”
“I’m well aware that we’re not dating, Cellbit,” Pac runs his hands through his hair. “But I thought I was still one of your best friends.”
“You are?” Cellbit looks genuinely confused. “Regardless of… this,” he gestures between the two of them. “You’ll always be one of my best friends.”
“So why aren’t you talking to me anymore?” Pac’s voice cracks against his will, and he wants to melt into the floor.
At hearing Pac’s voice crack, Cellbit walks over and pulls him into a tight hug. Pac hugs him back just as tightly.
“I’m sorry,” Cellbit mutters into Pac’s shoulder. “I don’t know if it’s because you’re here so much I just forgot to tell you or something, but i’m sorry.”
He places a soft kiss to Pac’s neck and nuzzles into him.
“It’s okay,” Pac says softly. “If you ever want me to just not come over as much just tell me, I know it must get annoying.”
Cellbit pulls away and looks at him quizzically. “Why would I not want you to come over as much? This is your house too, Pac. Always.”
“It is?”
Cellbit smiles and pulls Pac into another hug, Pac’s head resting right over Cellbit’s heart, and he listens to the comforting heartbeat.
Cellbit presses a kiss to the top of Pac’s head before releasing him and smiling again.
“Come on,” he takes Pac’s hand. “You get under the covers and i’ll just quickly check everything’s locked downstairs. Fit’s on a date so I don’t know when he’ll be back.”
Pac suddenly feels rooted in place.
He can’t even begin to unpack that, how he feels or why he feels it.
So he pushes all thoughts aside and gets under the bedsheets, pulling them over his head and wishing himself to sleep.
—
Wishing himself to sleep ends up working a little too well. His phone reads 10:30am when he eventually stirs awake, and Cellbit is nowhere to be found.
There’s faint conversation from downstairs, and Pac follows it.
Cellbit and Fit are sitting at the dining table, sharing a pizza and laughing.
“-And then after all that, he turned himself in!” Cellbit concludes, and Fit’s mouth drops open.
“Fuck off, no he didn’t,” Fit says in disbelief.
“I swear,” Cellbit holds up his hands and laughs again. “Might be the weirdest case i’ve ever worked.”
“I can see why,” Fit says through his laughter.
“Is this the guy with the robot story?” Pac asks as he takes a seat, notably not next to either man.
“You know it,” Cellbit nods.
“You’re officially in the inner circle now,” Pac says to Fit. “He only tells that story to people he likes.”
“I’m honoured,” Fit grins, and mock salutes. Cellbit returns it.
“Right, I have a briefing I have to get to,” Cellbit gets up and grabs the final slice of pizza. “Will you be over tonight?” he asks Pac.
Pac notices that Fit is also looking at him.
He nods, and Cellbit smiles. “Good. Remember what we spoke about, yeah?”
Pac nods again, and Cellbit leaves, ruffling Pac’s hair as he passes.
As soon as the door closes behind Cellbit, Pac notices that his body feels very heavy. He feels like Fit is looking into his soul.
“So,” Fit clicks his tongue. “Pretty sure it wasn’t this awkward last time we spoke, right?”
Pac hums in agreement.
He doesn’t know - or rather, refuses to acknowledge - why he feels so awkward in Fit’s presence now.
But he does have a burning question.
“Cellbit told me you were on a date last night?”
Fit looks taken aback.
“I-“
“Sorry,” Pac interjects. “It’s none of my business.”
“It’s fine,” Fit’s brows are slightly furrowed. “I wasn’t on a date though, I was just staying at a friend’s, not sure where Cellbit got the idea of a date from.”
Pac bites the inside of his cheek. Where does he even take the conversation now? Where does he want to take the conversation?
Thankfully, Fit takes control.
“It’s funny though,” he says, “I feel like I know more about you than some people i’ve had dates with.”
And Pac most definitely does not know how to take that.
“It’s been a while for me,” Pac replies, “I don’t even know what people talk about on dates now.”
Fit sits back and begins gently tapping his fingers against the edge of the table.
“At least it’s something you don’t need to worry about, being with Cellbit and all.”
The world falls silent around them, and Pac feels like a deer caught in the headlights of Fit’s gaze.
Though he’s not ‘with’ Cellbit as such, in the conventional sense at least, they had that exact conversation the night before - Pac feels some hesitance in telling that to Fit, but has no idea why. At least not one he wants to acknowledge.
“Me and Cellbit, we’re…” Pac pauses.
“None of my business,” Fit raises his hands. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s not that, sorry i’m just tired,” Pac lies blatantly to Fit’s face, and immediately notices that Fit is avoiding his gaze.
“So I read something the other day,” Pac begins, quite literally refusing to let the conversation end. He still is inexplicably drawn to Fit, and he still feels the same warmth bloom in his stomach that is only stoked with every second he’s in Fit’s vicinity. “Twenty questions to get to know someone better, you know?”
Fit laughs. “You want to do an icebreaker? It’s not like we’ve just met, Pac.” He laughs again. “But fuck it, i’m in. Let’s get to know each other better, see if this shit works.”
And so they do. They both leave the table later that day with their throats sore from laughing and talking too much, and with a much better knowledge of each other.
And when Pac checks the article again to see if he managed to recall the questions correctly, and instead sees ‘FIRST DATE ICEBREAKERS’ sprawled across the top, he feels the heat rush to his cheeks.
Then he sees the text underneath it from Mike reading ‘for when u and cellbit finally grow up ;)’ .
And he feels like a huge weight falls straight onto his shoulders, all but knocking all breath out of him.
—
“Come here,” Cellbit opens his arms. “I just want someone to cuddle tonight.”
They cuddle all the time, it’s no big deal.
So Pac crawls over the mattress and lets himself be pulled against Cellbit’s chest. Cellbit’s arms wrap around his waist and Pac runs his thumb over Cellbit’s knuckles.
Cellbit presses a kiss to the back of Pac’s neck, and his skin tingles, and feels ice cold. He pulls the covers up to below his chin.
“You’ve been really quiet lately,” Cellbit speaks into the darkness. “Quiet. Distant.”
Pac feels his heart sink. He can hear Fit moving around in the room across the hall.
“You’ve not been around lately,” Pac replies, voice barely above a whisper.
“Sorry,” Cellbit whispers, and pulls Pac tighter against him. “I’m just trying to put all the hours in that I can to get that promotion. Bagi is too, Tina’s started coming to the station to bring Bagi dinner.”
Pac laughs quietly. “And what, you want me to do that for you?”
Cellbit laughs, the puff of air ruffling the hair on the back of Pac’s neck.
“Pretty sure that would give that wrong impression, don’t you?”
Pac pats Cellbit’s hand.
“I won’t go down there and ruin your reputation, mister big shot detective. I’ll keep away, behind closed doors, you know?”
He feels Cellbit tense behind him.
There’s a distinct shift in the atmosphere, and Pac wriggles out of Cellbit’s arms and turns to face him.
Cellbit’s hair is spread over the pillow in every direction, and he’s looking at Pac with a look that he can’t decipher.
“Is that how you feel?” he asks. “That I keep you behind closed doors?” He bites his lip and looks expectantly at Pac, searching his face.
“I mean, we’re not dating, right? So it’s always going to seem like that a little bit-“
“No, Pac!” Cellbit interjects, sitting up and resting against the headboard. “I don’t want you to feel like that! Yeah, we sleep together sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t ever want to be seen with you - it’d be as stupid as not wanting to be seen with Mike, Foolish or Etoiles. You don’t mean any less to me, and I hope you know that.”
Pac sits up also. “I do know that, I do. What I said just came out wrong.”
Cellbit looks over at him like he doesn’t quite believe him, but doesn’t call him on it. Instead he merely nods, mumbles a goodnight, and turns away from Pac.
Not another word is spoken.
—
“To the new Senior Detectives!” Foolish raises his glass, and the rest of the group follow.
Tina pushes both Bagi and Cellbit to their feet and the group chants for them to take a bow.
Reluctantly, the brother and sister take a bow and scramble over each other to get back to their seats.
“I thought there was only one job?” Etoiles asks. “Yes you’re related but you’re not identical? Fucking up the justice system, let’s go!”
Cellbit shrugs. “Guess they couldn’t choose between perfection and Bagi.”
Bagi elbows her brother in the stomach. “They took pity on him because he’s been here longer than me, even though i’m the better detective. So they split the job.”
Cellbit then elbows his sister. “You want to compare portfolios? Compare case stats? Let’s fucking go, right now.”
Bagi rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her drink. “Thank fuck I moved out,” she nods over at Fit, who has been practically silent up to this point. “He’s your problem now.”
“Yeah about that,” Foolish rests an arm on the table, and his chin on his hand. “Who is this anyway, you Cellbit’s new boyfriend?”
Pac hears Mike immediately snicker into his glass from beside him, and Pac delivers a swift kick to his best friend’s leg.
“No!” Fit exclaims, a little too quickly. When Pac glances over, Fit is already looking at him, but quickly looks away. “I’m just renting the room.”
“Interesting.” Foolish taps his fingers against his chin. He turns to Pac. “You didn’t want the room? Your place is a piece of shit.”
“And you seem to be around there all the time,” Mike chimes in.
“Mike shut the fuck up,” Pac hisses through his teeth.
“Turn off your find a phone feature,” Mike retorts, pressing a dramatic, sloppy kiss to the side of Pac’s head.
Out of the corner of his vision, Pac notices Fit watching the whole exchange.
“He’s also not just renting the room,” Cellbit says, tapping his glass to Fit’s. “My house is your house.”
“And Pac’s,” Mike mumbles for only Pac to hear. He shoots a sour glare at his best friend and dumps a handful of pebbles from the table centrepiece into Mike’s drink.
Mike swears at him in Portuguese and gets up to go to the bar to get another drink. Foolish and Etoiles jump up and jog over to join him.
“You two haven’t changed since I met you,” Cellbit laughs, looking over at Pac fondly. He looks over to Fit and smiles. “You’ll find out soon enough, Fit. Spend enough time around Pac and Mike and you’ll become immune to this chaos.”
“Ah, a bit of chaos doesn’t bother me,” Fit smiles and takes a drink. “Makes life a bit more interesting.”
“Agreed!” Bagi raises her glass.
When Fit shoots Pac a smile after the round of cheers, there’s a fluttering in Pac’s stomach that he’s not sure he wants
to get rid of.
“Hey,” Cellbit says as he takes Mike’s seat beside Pac. “You staying over tonight? No funny business I promise, just need to catch up on all the sleep i’ve missed chasing this promotion.”
Again, Pac notices Fit watching them.
“Uh,” Pac stutters, his throat running dry. “I think I might actually head home tonight.”
Cellbit eyes him curiously but doesn’t push him on it. “Okay, no worries. You’re welcome whenever. Remember what I said.”
He then moves back over to continue celebrating with his sister.
And Pac swears he sees Fit smiling behind his glass.
—
“Far be it from me to judge, but are you just going to lay there all day?”
Fit leans against the doorway, smiling down at Pac who is sprawled across the sofa, in between a controlled day of binge watching and napping. After spending the night at his own place, he’s grateful to be laying on something comfortable.
“Making the most of a day off,” Pac replies.
“Fair,” Fit shrugs, moving his gym bag further up his shoulder. “But i’ll offer anyway - i’m off to the gym, want to come?”
Pac ponders this. “I don’t think i’ve been to the gym since I was a student, i’d probably slow you down.”
Fit laughs. “Excuse me if I don’t believe that for a fucking second, you’ve not been to the gym since you graduated?”
Pac doesn’t let himself read into it too much.
“I’m willing to change that, though.” Pac switches off the television and takes Fit’s outstretched hand.
The fact that he hasn’t used his legs in hours causes an issue as he immediately loses his balance and goes toppling into Fit’s chest.
“Whoa,” Fit chuckles and takes a gentle grip of Pac’s arms and helps him stand. “You good?”
Pac wonders if Fit’s skin also feels like it’s on fire, specifically where his fingers are meeting Pac’s arm.
“Yeah, sorry,” Pac takes a step back and pulls on his hoodie drawstrings. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologise, Pac,” Fit lets go of his arms and smiles. “My car’s just around the corner, we can stop by your place on the way so you can get a change of clothes.”
Pac gasps and places a hand to his chest. “You mean I shouldn’t get all hot and sweaty in this?”
He watches with the tiniest of smirks as Fit’s eyes widen, and his tongue runs over his lips.
Pac kind of hates how much of a thrill he gets from teasing Fit - admittedly, this is the first time he’s done it purposefully, but it’s a feeling he could definitely get addicted to.
“So, gym?” he asks, looking up at Fit.
Fit runs his tongue over his lips again and nods.
“Yeah, uh, of course.”
His voice is even deeper than it was before, if not a little raspy, and yeah - Pac could very easily get addicted to that too.
When they eventually arrive at the gym, Pac’s never seen Fit so confident.
Everyone seems to know him, waving enthusiastically at him and exchanging jokes. Pac follows behind him silently, in awe of how Fit looks entirely in his element.
“I never even asked, what is it you specialise in here?” Pac eventually asks, whilst Fit sets down his gym bag.
“Oh, i’m a rock climber mainly,” Fit replies with a smile, retrieving the nearby chalk and applying it to his hands. “You ever done it before?”
Pac looks up at the looming rock climbing wall, he can barely even see the top.
“I most definitely have not.”
Fit hums. “Well, maybe it’s time to try something new.”
He takes a step closer and smiles down at Pac. Pac gulps, and hopes that Fit doesn’t hear it. His heart is, in true cliche fashion, beating out of his chest.
Then, Fit presses the chalk into Pac’s hand and takes a step back, setting his attention to changing his shoes and greeting yet more gymgoers.
“Ready?” Fit asks, and Pac tries to ignore the fact that Fit quite literally looks him up and down.
“I think I might just watch, I have so much more to do in life before I die, you know?”
Fit shrugs. “You can watch, but sometimes it’s more fun and more meaningful to kind of just… do.”
He then leaves Pac reeling, trying to interpret what the fuck that meant, as Fit takes his position at the bottom of the wall.
He casts another smile over his shoulder at Pac, before beginning his ascent. And Pac does indeed watch, he watches as Fit’s muscles flex with every move he makes.
When he makes it to the top of the wall in what Pac is sure must be record breaking speed, he descends down to the ground, spinning around in his harness like the most muscly angel Pac could ever imagine.
Once Fit is stood in front of him, grinning, Pac is lost for words.
“How’d I do?” Fit asks, taking a big chug from his water bottle.
Pac has already muttered his true reaction to himself - under his breath, in Portuguese, none of it appropriate to repeat - so he has had time to process how attractive he still finds Fit, even dripping in sweat following a rock climb.
“Fancy a sparring session?” Fit nods towards one of the private rooms to the side of the gym.
“See, now that I can kick your ass in. I’ve played way too many video games to not win any form of a spar.” Pac raises his eyebrows playfully.
Fit crosses his arms across his chest with an amused grin. “Oh really? Let’s see what you’ve got then.”
He then saunters over to one of the rooms, peeking through the window to check it’s empty and then walking inside.
There’s a box in the corner of the room containing a multitude of foam weapons. Various plush mats cover the floor, no inch of the flooring exposed.
Pac picks a foam sword from the box. “I was not expecting this, I have to say.” He laughs and Fit shares it. “Haven’t really played using one of these before.”
“Yeah probably should have mentioned that it’s mainly kids that come here to use these whilst their parents work out.” Fit picks up another foam sword and holds it out towards Pac. “Still doesn’t mean I won’t win the shit out of this, though.”
Pac holds his own sword out towards Fit. “You’re so on.”
They both count down from three and begin swinging their swords at each other with reckless abandon, both laughing maniacally, and Pac isn’t sure when was the last time he had this much fun.
Up until Pac trips over the edge of one of the mats where it overlaps another, and falls onto his back, with Fit nearly keeling over with laughter.
“This doesn’t mean I lose!” Pac insists, getting to a sitting position.
The tip of Fit’s sword presses into his chest.
“Or,” he says with a grin. “That’s absolutely what it means.”
“It’s not my fault the mats aren’t fitted properly, you know!” Pac protests, and Fit shakes his head.
“If you accept defeat, we can all go home and move on with our lives.”
It’s then that Pac spots an opportunity, and swiftly sweeps Fit’s leg and sends him toppling onto the mat, face down.
Pac grabs his sword and holds it out as Fit flips himself over.
“Well played, Pac,” Fit sounds genuinely impressed. “I underestimated you.”
Pac shrugs, and digs the tip of his sword into Fit’s chest. “People usually do.”
Fit then presses his lips together, and Pac has no idea what to read into that.
“Well then they’re fucking idiots.”
Fit then gets to his feet, places his sword in the box and leaves the room. Pac stares after him for a moment, wondering what the actual fuck just happened, and follows after him.
—
The next day, Pac takes all available shifts at work - unfortunately, this only takes him to seven in the evening.
“So,” Mouse says as she hops up onto Pac’s desk and smiles at him. “Guess what I just found out?”
“We’re not getting a bonus again?” Pac says, deadpan.
Mouse rolls her eyes. “Well obviously that, but I also heard that there’s an attractive young man waiting for you in the lobby.” She wiggles her eyebrows, and bites back a laugh as she takes in Pac’s wide-eyed stare.
“For me?” Pac asks, and Mouse nods.
“That’s what he said,” she replies, and closes Pac’s laptop for him, trapping his fingers in the process. She rolls her eyes again as Pac hisses at the sudden pain. “Go get him before the thirsty people from the office downstairs do!”
It’s a fair point - and Pac hastily grabs all of his stuff and bolts out of the office. As he’s descending the stairs, he realises that he hasn’t even considered who may be waiting for him - or, more specifically, who he wants to be waiting for him.
His sparring session with Fit is still whizzing around his mind, and it has been a while since they last spoke as Pac has been sleeping at his own place lately - he refuses to acknowledge why.
Fit definitely knows where he works too, it was one of their icebreaker questions, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.
He gets to the bottom of the stairs with a light, bubbly feeling in his chest.
“Took you long enough,” Cellbit chuckles as Pac makes it outside. He spins his keyring around his finger as he leans against his car. “I’ve been propositioned four times whilst i’ve been waiting for you.”
He nods up to the first floor office to where practically everyone in the office is pressed against the windows waving at him and blowing kisses.
Mouse wasn’t wrong, Pac really did need to hurry down to meet him.
“They have a reputation, ignore them.” Pac says, and Cellbit shrugs.
“It was flattering, to be honest.”
“Yeah all fun and games until they actually meet you and rip your clothes off you before you realise what’s happening,” Pac rolls his eyes as he gets in the passenger seat.
“Well,” Cellbit says as he gets in the driver’s seat and turns the key in the ignition. “They wouldn’t be the first person in that office building to do that to me, would they?”
Pac groans and buries his head in his hands as Cellbit laughs loudly and pats him on the back before driving away.
“So you’re probably wondering why i’m here, I presume?” Cellbit asks whilst they’re stopped at a red light. Pac tears his gaze away from people watching out of the window to look at him.
“Yeah, just a little,” Pac confirms, and Cellbit nods.
“Well what you said that night about staying behind closed doors, it’s been playing on my mind.”
Pac opens his mouth to interject, but Cellbit gently squeezes his knee to silent request that he’s allowed to continue.
“So i’m taking you to your favourite place and we’re going to have dinner together. Not behind closed doors. Sound good?”
“Cellbit…”
“And i’m driving so you don’t really have a say.” Cellbit says with a little laugh.
Knowing better than to try to change his friend’s mind, Pac thanks him quietly and enjoys the rest of the journey.
When they’re parked outside of Pac’s favourite diner, one they’ve been frequenting since they all moved to the same city, Cellbit gently pulls on Pac’s sleeve, stopping him from exiting the car.
Then, wordlessly, he cups Pac’s face with both hands and leans forward to kiss him. It starts off softly, and it does send Pac’s mind into a frenzy - they’ve never kissed so tenderly like this, it’s only ever been rough, passionate, a necessary evil to get to the main event.
But he can’t bring himself to fully kiss back. It’s not Cellbit that he’s been imagining himself kissing, it doesn’t feel right.
When Cellbit eventually pulls away, there’s a distant look in his eyes.
“Um-“ Pac begins, but Cellbit shakes his head.
“Just wanted to test something,” he says, then gets out of the car without another word.
Neither of them bring it up again, they share a pleasant conversation and delicious meals but never bring up what happened in the car.
If anything, the dynamic feels like it did before their arrangement started.
“You coming over?” Cellbit asks as he arrives at the crossroad, one way to his house and the opposite to Pac’s.
Pac glances over at him, and Cellbit is avoiding eye contact.
“I think i’ll go home,” Pac replies, and Cellbit nods, continuing the journey with no other words spoken beyond a shared goodnight.
Pac struggles to get any sleep that night.
—
“Why am I being dragged along to this?” Mike complains as Pac loads another bottle of alcohol into Mike’s arms.
“Because Cellbit and Bagi are working and we need to get everything in time for this party, or else Tina will murder us both in our sleep.”
Mike grumbles. “What about his roommate? Or housemate or whatever the fuck?”
“His name is Fit,” Pac says as he loads another bottle in Mike’s arms. “And you fucking know that.”
Mike rolls his eyes.
“This party is for Cellbit and Bagi to celebrate their promotions. If you could stop complaining for five minutes that’d be great.” Pac reprimands him and, in lieu of not being able to flip him off, Mike sticks out his tongue and trips Pac up as he passes.
They then proceed to bicker back and forth in Portuguese for the rest of the shopping trip, earning confused stares from other shoppers and a passing comment about ‘young love’ that Mike overhears and nearly chases the person down for.
“You could do so much worse than me, you know,” Pac says as they’re loading the shopping into Mike’s car.
“But I could also do so, so much better,” Mike sings in response, pinching Pac’s cheek. Pac swats his hand away, and Mike cackles. “You’ll make somebody very happy someday my friend, but this body is reserved for nobody less than a goddess.” Mike runs a hand down his body.
Pac decides not to burst the bubble of his best friend’s fantasy and instead gets in the car and turns up the radio before Mike has a chance to grill him about Cellbit and how their arrangement is going - Mike doesn’t know about the kiss the night before, and he never will if Pac gets his way.
At least he knows the telepathic bond most definitely isn’t real.
As soon as Mike pulls up outside Cellbit’s house, Foolish, Etoiles and Tina rush outside to retrieve the refreshments and run back inside to set them all out.
“We have exactly an hour before they should both finish work, another half hour til they should show up. Let’s go people!” Tina claps, and jumps down from where she was standing on the coffee table, immediately running over to shout at Foolish who was already inhaling helium from one of the ‘congratulations’ balloons.
Fit is positioned on the sofa, masses of deflated balloons around him.
“Balloon duty? Unlucky, man,” Mike grimaces as he clicks his tongue. “Usually a task reserved for the newest member of the group, though.”
He then strolls over to inhale helium alongside Foolish, giving Tina a new target.
“Need some help?” he asks, and Fit nods desperately.
“My god, please help me,” he says. “I’m so tired but i’m too scared of Tina to ask for a different job.”
It’s then that Pac notices how red-faced Fit is, sweat beading in his forehead and slumped against the sofa.
“We’re all scared of Tina, don’t worry,” Pac smiles as he sits beside Fit and takes some of the balloons. “She’s asked us to tell her if it gets too much but Bagi beats us down if we dare to try.”
Fit glances at him. “Your friends are an interesting bunch.”
“You’re stuck with them now, too,” Pac nudges Fit with his shoulder. “Don’t think you’ve gotten out of this.”
As if proving a point, Etoiles then runs over, throwing a can of beer onto both of their laps with a wink.
“We all deserve a break,” he whispers loudly, and then bounces off with a spring in his step.
“I guess I can live with that,” Fit grins.
They continue blowing up balloons for a while, listening to the others’ conversation from the kitchen.
“For the last time, I do not have a bottle of vodka upon my person!” Foolish yells, and Etoiles breaks down in laughter.
There’s then a distant sound of a bottle being placed on a table, and a second later, Foolish comes trudging out of the kitchen.
“You guys need to go help set up the food, i’ve been kicked out and put on balloon duty.” He mumbles.
Pac laughs. “You’ve been kicked out?”
“I thought it’d be funny to put a bottle of vodka down there,” he gestures downwards. “Etoiles found it funny, Tina did not. She kicked me out with a threat of this party needs to be perfect for Bagi or else she will hunt me down.”
“Guess we’ll go and do what you couldn’t,” Fit smiles as he gets to his feet, and offers his hand to help Pac up too. He accepts it with no hesitation.
Foolish doesn’t say anything more, still muttering under his breath.
Upon entering the kitchen, it appears there’s very little to do. It seems that every one of Cellbit’s plates, bowls and dishes have been pulled out and now boast some form of food on them, arranged carefully in specific patterns.
“Oh someone else is here!” Etoiles claps gleefully and dashes out of the door.
“Etoiles, get back here!” Tina shoots a grateful smile at Fit and Pac as she chases Etoiles out of the room.
“Well then,” Fit rubs his hands together. “What do we do now? Seems like they’ve done everything.”
“We’ll just stay in here out of the way until Bagi and Cellbit arrive, things will calm down then.”
“I do feel like i’m intruding, a bit,” Fit says as he leans against one of the free counters. “I mean, i’m just renting a room, should I really be here with all of Cellbit’s friends like this?” He bites on the tip of his thumb nervously.
“Fit,” Pac begins, following over to where Fit is stood. “You are one of Cellbit’s friends. You’re not going anywhere.”
“But i’ve only met the rest of them like twice before, I don’t want to make anyone feel awkward, Pac.” He begins tapping against the cupboard with his fingers, and his eyebrows are furrowed, he’s evidently stuck in his own head.
Knowing it works for him when he’s stuck in his head, without a second thought Pac reaches forward and takes Fit’s hand in his own, firmly grounding him in reality.
“You don’t make anyone feel awkward, Fit, everyone loves you already!” He looks into Fit’s eyes, hoping with everything that he believes him. “And besides, I want you here.”
He hears Fit take a sharp intake of breath, but doesn’t look away from Pac’s eyes. “Then i’ll stay.”
“Good,” Pac smiles, and starts to back away, but Fit links their fingers and squeezes his hand to stop him.
“Pac,” he says in a small voice - and Pac decides that yes, he doesn’t want to hear anyone else say his name ever again. Only Fit, for the rest of time. “Can I kiss you?”
Pac nods so fast he worries his head might fall off, and Fit wastes no time, leaning forward and capturing Pac’s lips with his.
He wraps his arms around Fit’s neck and pulls him closer, deepening the kiss. Fit doesn’t seem to mind, smiling against his lips.
When they eventually break apart for breath, Fit rests his forehead against Pac’s. “You have no idea how long i’ve been waiting for that.”
“Oh, I think I do,” Pac replies, and kisses him again.
He feels dizzy, so so dizzy, and he never wants it to stop.
Fit smiles against his lips again, resting an arm around Pac’s waist and gently leaning him backwards as they kiss.
Pac gently bites on Fit’s bottom lip, causing Fit to gasp into Pac’s mouth. It also elicits a low growl from the back of Fit’s throat that excites Pac to no end.
“I underestimated you again,” Fit whispers, and Pac smiles.
“You really need to stop doing that,” Pac whispers in response, as Fit chases his lips for another long, sweet kiss.
Which is abruptly ruined by Tina’s echoing shout.
“They’ve finished early and are on their way! I repeat, they are on the way! My girlfriend is coming and you are not ruining this for me!”
Pac hears Foolish and Etoiles’ faint responses, but doesn’t care enough to find out what they are.
He stares at Fit, all red-faced and puffy, raw lips, ever so slightly swollen from where Pac softly bit his bottom lip. He smiles, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over one of the faded scars on Fit’s face.
He wants to know absolutely everything about this man.
Fit in turn rubs his thumbs against Pac’s hips, smiling down at him.
“Sorry about the, uh,” Pac pauses, trying to word it correctly. “Biting.”
“I’m not,” Fit grins. “Quite the opposite, actually.”
Pac is about to tease him further but he hears the living room door close and footsteps coming towards the kitchen.
They jump apart just in time as Tina enters, and stands in front of the food table with her hands on her hips.
“Good job, you two,” she turns to them and smiles. “Good to know not everyone in this group is useless under time constraints.”
Fit and Pac exchange an amused glance considering they quite literally did nothing except make out against the kitchen counter.
“Now, into the living room with the other numbskulls, go,” she follows them out of the kitchen. “Bagi and Cellbit are going to be so surprised!” She squeals slightly before composing herself.
Pac is considerably less excited - he definitely needs to talk to Cellbit.
—
There are two completely different reactions when the siblings enter the house.
Bagi comes in first and Tina barely finishes shouting the word ‘surprise’ before Bagi jumps into her arms and kisses her, then continues to pepper her face in kisses whilst repeating a frenzied thank you.
Cellbit enters a few seconds later, and at everyone screaming surprise in his face, he blinks, looks around and says a quiet thank you before gratefully accepting the can of beer that Foolish pushes into his hand.
“I literally said I would arrange a party if I got the job,” he says to Tina in particular, but she’s too distracted by her girlfriend and her kisses to care.
“Senior detective, huh?” Etoiles says as he slings an arm around Cellbit’s shoulders. “Get any perks with that role, huh?”
Cellbit frowns at him. “If I do, you won’t be seeing any of them.”
Etoiles scoffs and throws his arms into the air. “Why are you such a fucking asshole? Is it because i’m French?” He places his hands on his hips and gets right in Cellbit’s face.
“Nah, Baghs used my discount at that coffee shop down the street the other day. You’re just you, so you get no perks.” Cellbit places a dramatic sloppy kiss to Etoiles’ forehead and brushes past him.
“Congrats, man,” Mike smiles and claps Cellbit on the shoulder as he walks by. “Well overdue, but congrats.”
“You’re telling me,” Cellbit laughs and drains the rest of his drink. “Got there in the end though, huh?”
They share a fist bump as Cellbit strolls over to speak to Foolish.
“Where have you been?” Pac asks Mike, who taps the side of his nose.
“Not my first time getting out of helping out with party preparation, my friend. For your birthday party in final year, I hid in the washing machine.”
“The washing machine?” Pac asks, and Mike nods.
“I’m flexible,” he wiggles his hips and Pac pretends to heave. “As my goddess will one day find out.”
“Okay yeah i’m leaving now,” Pac is already walking away, but hears Mike cackling behind him.
“Pac!” a voice calls after him just before he steps out of the living room. Cellbit jogs over. “Can I talk to you, please?”
Pac nods, the sinking feeling back in his stomach. As he leaves he casts a glance over his shoulder, and Fit smiles at him from behind his bottle, and nods towards him.
Pac follows Cellbit out into the hallway, casting a quick glance into the mirror, and thankfully he doesn’t look too disheveled.
When they make it to Cellbit’s room, the door closed behind them, they sit beside each other on the bed. The tension is heavy, and Pac hates it. He hates the fact that he needs to have this conversation.
“Listen,” Cellbit begins. He’s looking straight forward rather than at Pac, and has templed his fingers. “Fuck, they really don’t teach you how to do shit like this.”
He runs a hand through his hair and puffs out a heavy breath.
“It’s okay,” Pac replies, “It’s only me, you can tell me anything.”
Cellbit chuckles softly, but there’s no humour or amusement in it.
“Oh, if only that were true, Pac.”
Pac’s left to ponder what that means as Cellbit runs a hand through his hair again.
“Listen, okay. You know this…” he waves his hand as he tries to find the right word. “Thing. Us.”
“Yeah I think I know us,” Pac laughs, but Cellbit doesn’t return it.
“No, Pac, I mean this… situation.”
“I know what you mean, Cellbit. I actually wanted to talk about it too.”
Cellbit does turn to face him, then, looking at him curiously. “Really?”
Pac nods.
“Well, i’ll just quickly say this and then we can, I guess, change places?”
Pac nods again.
Cellbit lets out a deep breath and wrings his hands. “I’m just going to say it.”
Pac feels sick. Cellbit looks so nervous, whatever he’s about to say is evidently a huge deal for him.
He’s never got the impression that Cellbit had gained feelings beyond their arrangement, but he’s been surprised before - such as ten minutes prior when he was frantically making out with Fit in Cellbit’s kitchen.
“I met someone,” Cellbit says. He continues wringing his hands and won’t meet Pac’s gaze.
“What?” Pac asks. His heartbeat is erratic in his ears, and he can feel himself shaking.
“I met someone,” Cellbit repeats, his voice is still small. “At work. His name’s Roier and I really think it could go somewhere.”
He dares to meet Pac’s eyes then, and Pac nods slowly.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Cellbit repeats, and tilts his head to the side. “Pac, you know what i’m saying here, right?”
Pac rolls his eyes. “I’m not stupid, Cellbit. It was nice whilst it lasted but, seriously, when was the last time we even slept together?”
Cellbit ponders the question. “Good point, actually. Guess it’s longer ago than I thought.”
“Exactly,” Pac smiled and leans back, resting his arms against the bedsheets. “So that’s why you kissed me the other night, huh?”
Cellbit nods. “I had to check there were no underlying feelings for me. And I have to say, part of me is relieved. Because when I kissed Roier…” he trails off with a dreamy look in his eyes.
“Okay I don’t need the details,” Pac pokes Cellbit’s leg gently with his toes.
“So,” Cellbit looks down at his lap again. “We’re good?”
Pac pulls him into a tight hug in response, and he hears Cellbit sigh in relief before hugging him back.
“I’m happy for you,” Pac smiles, and he swears that Cellbit is tearing up. “I can’t wait to meet Roier and warn him about what he’s getting into.”
Cellbit swats him on the arm gently, and rests his head against Pac’s shoulder.
“And I can’t wait to do the same when you finally find someone worthy of you.”
The sentence makes Pac’s stomach churn. He could tell Cellbit about Fit right now, he could so easily do that. But something stops him.
“I’m so glad this went so well,” Cellbit says, and takes one of Pac’s hands in his own. “Is it just me that feels like a weight’s been lifted?”
Pac finds it hard to agree or disagree - on one hand, yes, he feels a million times lighter without the burden of needing to end his and Cellbit’s arrangement, but now has the added weight of carrying around his and Fit’s kisses, and whatever the hell that could blossom into.
“Fuck, sorry,” Cellbit shakes his head and lets go of Pac’s hand, and slaps his hands against his knees. “You wanted to say something too. I’m listening.”
“I-“ the words get caught in Pac’s throat. “I was just going to say that I didn’t think it was working anymore either. I just missed my friend.” At least he didn’t lie.
Cellbit awws and nudges Pac’s shoulder with his own.
“Well, you’ve got him back. Lucky you.”
Pac pulls him into another hug.
“I’m still going to be over all of the time,” Pac says into Cellbit’s shoulder.
“As long as we leave room for Roier and Jesus.” Cellbit responds with a laugh which gets muffled by the thick fabric of Pac’s hoodie.
“Deal,” Pac says, hugging his friend even tighter.
“Cellbit get your ass down here right now, you have some explaining to do!” Bagi’s voice shouts up the stairs.
“Ah, sounds like Roier’s arrived,” Cellbit pulls apart from Pac and heads out of the room, pausing momentarily to smile again at Pac. “You should come and meet him.”
“I’ll be right there,” Pac replies, and Cellbit smiles, and begins descending the stairs at what sounds like two at a time.
Pac makes his way to the top of the stairs and can see an unfamiliar man stood in the hallway, hands dug deep in the pocket of his red hoodie. A red headband pushes back his otherwise unruly hair, and he looks at Cellbit with unadulterated adoration.
“Explain to me what Roier is doing here!” Bagi hits her brother in the back of his head.
“And why he’s undressing you with his eyes,” Foolish adds with a smirk, handing Roier a drink in an ominous red cup which he begins sipping on immediately.
Cellbit flips Foolish off, and wraps an arm around Roier’s waist.
“Everyone, and Bagi,” he glares at his sister for a moment, “This is Roier, my…”
He looks at Roier, who grins and closes the gap between them, both of them smiling into the kiss, to the wild hollering of the rest of the group.
Mike then notices Pac standing at the top of the stairs and silently asks if he knew about this, to which Pac nods. Mike then silently asks if he’s okay, to which Pac nods again. Mike nods himself then walks off to introduce himself to Roier.
“Oh, I didn’t think you were out yet,” Fit says from behind him, startling Pac.
“How long have you been up here?” Pac asks, and Fit shrugs.
“Not long after you, I had to change my shirt after Etoiles spilled some wine on my other one.”
Pac nods in understanding and takes the chance to fully appreciate the sight in front of him.
“So you and Cellbit… Am I interrupting? Because I like you Pac, I like you a lot, but i’m not getting in the middle of something where someone could get hurt.”
Pac, after a fleeting glance downstairs and noticing everyone has left the front hallway probably into the living room and kitchen, backs Fit up against the wall and rests a hand against his chest, smiling as he feels Fit’s heart rate increase under his touch. Fit’s pupils are also blown out, and his hands instantly wrap around Pac’s waist again.
“Me and Cellbit once upon a time ago had a little thing,” Pac begins, “But that was us completely ending it. I mean, his boyfriend is downstairs so that kind of kills the mood even if we hadn’t.”
Fit nods but his breath is ragged, his eyes fixed on Pac’s lips. When Pac licks his lips, Fit’s fingers twitch against him.
“Fit,” Pac uses his free hand to tilt Fit’s chin up to meet his eyes. “This is where you kiss me.”
And he doesn’t need to be told twice, capturing Pac’s lips in a passionate kiss, his hands at some point ending up in Pac’s hair, pulling at it ever so slightly. It’s unexpected, and causes Pac to gasp, and Fit takes the chance to move to Pac’s neck, placing butterfly kisses at first before applying more pressure and grazing the skin with his teeth in the most gentle of ways.
“Fit,” Pac breathes out, but Fit catches his lips and kisses away any further words before they can be spoken.
That’s how they stay for a few precious, golden moments, before Pac’s loudmouth of a best friend screams his name from somewhere downstairs.
“I should, uh,” Pac begins.
“Yeah, yeah, you should probably…” Fit trails off.
“Oh fuck it,” Pac pulls Fit into another long kiss, before disappearing down the stairs with a wink, leaving an incredibly flustered Fit behind.
Mike is leaning against the kitchen doorway when Pac makes it downstairs. As he passes the living room, he sees Cellbit and Roier cuddled together on the sofa, Cellbit’s arm around Roier’s shoulders and Roier linking their fingers.
“You good?” Mike asks, nodding in the general direction of the living room.
“I actually am, you know?” Pac says confidently. “If anything, i’m relieved.”
“So I see,” Mike smirks as he points behind Pac to where the hallway mirror immediately tells what he has just been up to - messy hair, hoodie up above his waistline, red, raw lips, the faintest of marks on his neck and a glowing blush. “Want to tell me something?”
“I absolutely do not,” Pac smiles and turns to walk away, but Mike catches his wrist.
“Which of our friends are you fucking now, dude? You need a bigger dating pool.”
Pac flicks him on the forehead, smirking as Mike runs his hand over the spot.
They have another swearing match in Portuguese for a while, until Bagi shouts at them - also in Portuguese - to shut the fuck up before they scare Roier away. Knowing better than to get on Bagi’s bad side, they do indeed shut the fuck up.
“I am happy for you, for what it’s worth,” Mike pulls him into a quick hug. “But please tell me it’s not Foolish, Vegetta will beat your ass into the ground.”
“I could take Vegetta! We both tested the same strength!” Pac crosses his arms over his chest.
“You haven’t seen him when someone tries to hit on Foolish,” Mike puffs out and shakes his head. “Makes the Hulk look weak as fuck.”
Pac rolls his eyes. “Well luckily for everyone, I do not plan to be a homewrecker.”
Mike shrugs. “Do what you want in your life,” he studies his fingernails for a second before turning to his best friend with a shit-eating grin. “Like make out with your ex’s new roommate, for example.”
“He’s not my ex!” Pac hisses, and Mike snorts.
“That’s the bit that you deny? Interesting.”
Pac flicks him in the forehead again, and it spawns yet another swearing match in Portuguese.
It continues until Bagi storms out and physically pulls Pac into the living room, leaving Mike laughing hysterically in the hallway.
She squeezes his hand before letting it go, silently letting him know that she isn’t really mad, and whispers to him that she thinks he won the swearing match.
Pac then sits beside Fit on the floor, no other seats being available.
“You okay?” Fit asks, just quiet enough for only Pac to hear.
He’s sitting back on his hands, and Pac mirrors the position. He creeps his hand over to link his little finger with Fit’s.
“Yeah,” he says with a smile, a smile reserved just for Fit. “Yeah, i’m good.”
The moment is unfortunately cut short by Foolish and Etoiles getting into an argument over who gets to sing the first karaoke song - an honour which eventually goes to the recently promoted siblings.
As they stumble their way through the song, along with the hollers and laughs of the rest of the group, Pac glances over at Fit who is already smiling back at him.
“I bet people underestimate you at karaoke too, right?” Fit says over the sound of Cellbit screaming out a high note.
“Oh like you wouldn’t believe,” Pac responds with a laugh, and fidgets so that his fingers can fully link with Fit’s behind their backs. Fit immediately blushes, but squeezes Pac’s fingers lightly.
“Come on, new guy,” Etoiles holds out the microphone towards Fit. “You’re up. Choose your partner.”
With surprisingly little persuasion needed, Fit accepts the microphone and studies the room.
“My partner, huh?” He taps the microphone to his chin, and when Fit’s gaze lands on him, Pac feels on fire. “Pac, you up for this?”
With the way Fit is looking at him, he knows his question has multiple meanings.
Pac jumps to his feet and accepts the other microphone. He faces Fit and grins.
“I’d love to.”
—