soft snowfall and warm hot chocolate

by nebulafire

Summary:

Snowboarder Branzy and ice hockey player Clown are dating. This is an obvious fact.

...wait, who's that?

or, branzy, clown, and finding the missing piece of their trio they never knew they needed.

Notes:

my motivation is so dead ;-; i know i was supposed to update my falconry au but i couldn't figure out what to write

yeah... so when i said i wasn't gonna write romance... I LIED

but the rekzypierce romance popped into my head after no armor hardcore ep2 s2

clown - hockey because it kinda involves more fighting people than the other two (pvp)
rekrap - figure skating because it involves speed/grace (speedrunning)
branzy - snowboarding bc that seems like something he would do lol (wild card)

also i have no experience with any of these sports so it might be inaccurate

this is about characters!!! i never write about cc's

three guesses to who the trans character is. will be revealed at the end of the story. hint: it's not who you think it is.

Chapter 1

"Three laps around the rink, and you can go!" Wemmbu called, twirling his finger in a circle.

Clown grumbled, but dug his skates into the ice and pushed forward. 

"Tired already?" Leo smirked, skating effortlessly along the rink. 

"You try chasing Minute back and forth across the rink," Clown shot back.

"What can I say? Sucks to suck," Minute laughed, pulling ahead easily.

"I hate you."

"You love us," Leo sang obnoxiously.

"Why am I still here." Clown pushed ahead, pouring speed into his movements. Leo and Minute followed, still giggling stupidly as he rolled his eyes.

"Clown!" Branzy shouted, waving from the side with his snowboard tucked under his arm. Clown waved back, finishing his three laps and making his way over to him. Minute and Leo were off doing who-knows-what (probably pestering Wemmbu).

"You're early today," he commented with a grin. 

Branzy laughed. "Yeah, the coach let us go early today because she lost a game of rock-paper-scissors to me." Clown sat down and took off his skates, listening as Branzy recounted the tale with more dramatics than what was probably needed, quoting his coach in a Scottish accent.

"Guess you're really just that good, then," Clown pulled Branzy onto his lap and lightly rested his chin on his head. 

"Didn't you say we were getting hot chocolate?" his boyfriend whined, but the effect was ruined by his stifled giggles.

"Of course, but your amazing heroics precede my need for hot chocolate," Clown teased, ruffling his hair and standing up. 

"Yes, yes. It's only natural that my hero-y-ish-ics would distract you." Branzy struck a dramatic pose and attempted a hair flip, but his hair wasn't long enough and it looked like he was swatting a fly or something. Clown just laughed and grabbed his wrist. 

"Let's spy on your opponents," Branzy said suddenly, pulling him towards a rink. Clown remembered that another hockey team was practicing there. It might be good to get a glimpse of their strategies.

But when they got there, the hockey team wasn't hard at practice. Instead, they were sitting on the benches and watching as six people glided over the ice with someone who was probably the coach standing to the side. Clown recognized Parrot's bright sweater and Woogie's navy blue shirt.

"Figure skaters," Branzy recognized the sport. "I bet Parrot is such a simp." He was probably right. The hockey player's eyes were fixed on a skater with a purple headband, who twirled in the air. Woogie was openly laughing at his friend, who blushed and punched him in the shoulder.

Clown laughed. "Yeah, I can't wait to see how that turns out."

"Ten dollars the guy says yes just 'cause he feels bad," Branzy suggested.

"Nah. Twenty dollars the guy says yes because he feels bad, but-" he held up a finger, "it blossoms into a slow-burn, fanfic-worthy romance that involves Parrot tripping over his own feet every time the guy even looks at him."

"No, but there's also Woogie the wingman, who is the real hero working in the shadows to uplift the romance from the depths of obscurity to the heights of relevance!" Branzy said in a stage-whisper.

"And, and," Clown continued, "the drama enters the story." Branzy made an "ooh" sort of sound.

"You see, Parrot sees the guy with someone else! And then he gets mad! And they break up! But then, in an award-winning show of a redemption arc, Parrot regains some dignity and gets his attention back! And then they all get married and live happily ever after." 

"Until they die," Branzy added.

"Are you guys done making fanfics about us?" Parrot stood behind them with a sigh. The guy was standing next to him awkwardly. Branzy gave him a shit-eating grin.

"If you must know, we're already dating," the guy piped up.

"Wifies! Don't just say that!" Parrot hissed. "Wifies", apparently, just shrugged.

"They would've found out anyway."

Clown clapped Parrot on the shoulder. "Well, I guess we're going on a double date, then! See you at that  hot chocolate place!"

"Wait, but I don't have any money-" Parrot started.

"Don't worry, we can share," Wifies said smoothly.

Clown grinned at him. He had some potential.

---

Branzy nearly dropped his mug as it burned his tongue.

"FUCK!"

Half the shop turned to stare at him. The other half completely ignored him.

Clown handed him a glass of cold water. "You gotta learn not to drink it immediately, Branzy."

"It looks really good, though. It shouldn't be this hot," Branzy grumbled.

"I see you have the capability to recognize yourself," Clown smirked as Branzy's face reddened.

"Oh my god, get a room," Parrot glared at him.

"What? Jealous?"

"Oh, you little-"

Wifies cut him off by pressing their shared mug to Parrot's mouth. Branzy enjoyed the sight as his face turned scarlet.

"What?" Wifies glanced at Parrot, who was stammering his way through a sentence that sounded vaguely like a bunch of repeated "what's" and a whole truckload of confusion. The other just sipped the warm drink.

Parrot looked around wildly for a distraction. Clown just sat back and relaxed, enjoying the show.

"Let's play truth or dare!" Parrot announced.

"In a hot chocolate shop?" Clown raised an eyebrow.

"Yes! Clown, truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I- um, I dare you to put three bags of sugar in your mug."

Clown got up and made his way over to the topping stand. "Which one is it again?" Branzy rolled his eyes and got up to help his boyfriend.

"Alright, Wifies! Truth or dare?" Clown asked after chugging the entire drink without mixing it, sugar and all.

"Um... truth," Wifies looked mildly disturbed.

"Have you kissed anyone before?"

"No." 

Parrot looked suspiciously relieved.

"Parrot, truth or dare?" 

"Truth."

"What's the worst experience you've had with a dog?"

Parrot thought for a moment. "Oh, a dog chased me halfway across a soccer field. During the game I was playing in."

"How old were you, exactly?" Wifies asked with concern in his voice.

"I think... eight? Anyway, Branzy, truth or dare?" he rushed to move on.

"Dare, all the way, baby," Branzy leaned back casually.

"Okay, I dare you to try to get that girl's number." Parrot nodded towards a brown-haired girl with two star clips in her hair, one yellow and one blue, wearing a jacket that matched those colors. There was another girl wearing a pink jumper and a white-haired boy wearing a periwinkle-blue hoodie sitting at the same table, playing some form of Chopsticks.

"Hey, aren't those the figure skaters we saw earlier?" Clown peered at them.

Wifies's eyes widened. "Oh, Parrot. You messed up. You shouldn't have done that."

"What? Why?"

"Don't do it. Just... don't," Wifies turned his attention to the snowboarder.

"Well, I like a good challenge," Branzy rubbed his hands together with a grin and saluted them. "Plant lots of flowers on my grave to feed off the remains of my life force if I die!"

He got up and made his way over to the little corner table. A bit of sweat was running down his back, because that was so fucking ominous, not that he'd admit it.

"How are you on this fine day, figure skaters?" Branzy slammed his hands down on the table, making the hot chocolate mugs jump.

"Just fine," the pink jumper girl replied through gritted teeth, glaring at him. The hoodie guy gave him a dirty look, while the jacket girl just smiled cheerfully.

"Anyways," Branzy continued, "I saw you guys all skating out there and you're pretty cool! So what do you say? Wanna skate together sometime?"

"No," the jumper girl stated.

"No fucking way," the hoodie guy said. Such politeness.

"Okay! Can you type in your numbers on my phone so we can organize a time?" 

"Why don't you just do that now?" the jumper girl looked at him suspiciously.

"I'm gonna be busy." Hoodie guy fixed him with a sharp stare.

In the end, only the jacket girl typed in her number. Well, at least he got what he was looking for.

"No way you actually got it," Parrot stared at his phone when he got back.

"I told you!" Branzy laughed.

"No fucking way." Wifies blinked at the three numbers, then slowly looked up. "You're so screwed."

"Like I said," Branzy smirked, "I like a challenge."

Chapter 2

Summary:

Clown goes to the skating rink.

Notes:

welcome to my new addiction

Clown laced his skates on and stepped out onto the ice. Practice didn't start until about six hours later, but it was always good to have a little extra practice, hence why he was here at nine in the morning.

"Hey!" a voice rang out across the rink. It was the same girl from the shop yesterday, the one whose number Branzy had.

"You were at the shop yesterday, right?" she easily glided across the ice, wearing colors that absolutely clashed with each other but somehow looked good.

Clown was suddenly very aware that he was just saying a very long "Uhhhh......", too focused on the way her warm brown hair fluttered in her wake as she skated, waiting for an answer.

"Ye- yeah, I was there. Hope Branzy didn't bother you guys too much," Clown laughed nervously. Salvaging the conversation wasn't looking good right now.

"No, no! He was nice! What's your name, by the way?" she smiled. 

"C- Clown Pierce. Or just Clown. I mean, first names and all that..." It took him an embarrassingly long moment to sift through his mind for his own name. Rough seas ahead.

"Nice to meet ya! I'm Rek!" 

ABORT. ABORT. CLOWN WAS MELTING RIGHT NOW. HE WAS GAY, WHY COULDN'T HE TALK TO GIRLS?

Like an idiot, he continued. "Nice to meet you too." Okay, that was working.

"So, what are you doing?" he added. Nevermind. This was unsalvageable. SOS.

Clown prayed for Branzy to save him. Like a traitor, the guy didn't come bursting through the doors.

Rek didn't seem to mind. "Practicing my routine! You're a hockey player, right? I saw you score that goal yesterday!"

Oh god. A cute girl had seen him scoring. Wait, no, no, no, Branzy. But if it weren't for his boyfriend, he would be having the most bi panic this rink had ever seen. He was having it anyways.

"Thanks."

Rek smiled again, making Clown's heart go up to the speed of Strauss's Radetzky March. They went to opposite sides of the rink, with Clown making shots faster than humanly possible to calm his poor heart.

About a half hour later, his arms were getting tired. He snuck a glance at the other side of the rink and nearly tripped as he watched Rek perform the hottest triple lutz he'd ever seen with graceful ease, landing smoothly on the shining ice. At least that's what he was pretty sure it was called.

"You're kinda like a cat, sometimes," Clown blurted out, before slapping a hand over his mouth. Fuck.

"Excuse me?" Rek raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"Like, you always keep your balance and land on your feet." Oh well, he was in too deep now.

"I'll wear cat ears next time if you teach me how to play hockey," Rek offered. Half of Clown's brain was screaming at him to say yes, while the other half was yelling about his social dignity.

Screw it.

"Sure."

Oh god, what had he just agreed to?

---

"No, but, like, hear me out: what if a goose crashes the Olympics? Like, maybe it flies through a window and attacks a hockey player or something!" Branzy said.

"I'm a hockey player," Clown reminded him, lying on the floor of his house.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyw-" he was cut off by the sound of his phone ringing.

"Go ahead," Clown pushed him lightly. Branzy nodded in thanks and went to take the call.

It was from an unfamiliar number. His ears were assaulted by noise the moment he pressed the "accept call" button.

"BRANZY, BRANZY, I THOUGHT THAT WAS YOU!" a loud, high pitched voice screamed through the speaker.

"What...?" Branzy muttered to himself.

"NOW, DON'T TELL ME YOU DON'T REMEMBER ME, 'CAUSE I SURE AS HECK REMEMBER YOU! JUMPER WHO! BING! Now, Branzy, I'm selling insurance. Do you have life insurance? 'Cause if you do, you could actually use a little bit more. Am I right or am I right or am I right? Right? Right? RIGHT? RIGH-"

"Right," Branzy cut her off.

"AHH I'M DROWNING! I'M DROWNING! AHHHHHHH!" 

Branzy hung up. "Stupid spam calls."

He came back to find Clown looking at his phone.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" He looked over his shoulder. Clown's screen was filled with texts from an unfamiliar number, each with the exact same message.

CLOWN, CLOWN, I THOUGHT THAT WAS YOU! NOW, DON'T TELL ME YOU DON'T REMEMBER ME, 'CAUSE I SURE AS HECK REMEMBER YOU! JUMPER WHO! BING! Now, Clown, I'm selling insurance. Do you have life insurance? 'Cause if you do, you could actually use a little bit more. Am I right or am I right or am I right? Right? RIGHT? RIGHT? AHH I'M DROWNING! I'M DROWNING! AHHHHHHH! Whew! That was a doozy!

It was sent, like, eighteen times.

"What the fuck?"

"That's what I thought, too," Clown huffed. He blocked the number, muttering something about "stupid spam texts."

Branzy's phone buzzed suddenly. He went to block the number, expecting one of Clown's spam texts, when he saw the message on screen.

> hi! when would you like to skate together? 

Right. The skating trip. 

< When are you free?

> I can clear out my schedule anytime except 3:30 - 6:30 :)

< would 10 work the day after tomorrow?

> yep! see ya there!! :D

"Oh, you're so screwed," Clown snickered. "You don't skate."

"Teach me? Please?" Branzy made puppy-eyes at him.

"Yeah, yeah," Clown rolled his eyes affectionately. "You know I will."

---

"AHHHHHH! CLOWN! CLOWN, HELP ME!" Branzy slid across the ice, flailing his arms wildly.

"Lean forward!" Clown called, just a second too late as Branzy fell on his ass.

"Skating is so hard," he muttered as Clown helped him up. 

"You just have to spread out your weight more," Clown responded patiently. Branzy grumbled something angrily.

"Skates are weird."

Clown laughed. "I can't wait for tomorrow, then!"

"Fuck," Branzy groaned, dragging out the sound.

"Oh, come on," Clown patted him on the shoulder. "You'll be fine."

"Ya think so?" Branzy glanced up.

"Yeah, as soon as you skate five laps in a row. Get going, chop chop."

"I hate you."

"I love you, too." Clown promptly shoved him forward, causing him to skid wildly. 

"FUCK YOU, CLOWN!"

Clown sat down and prepared himself for a day of swears, screaming, and skating circles around Branzy.

...oh, hey, alliteration, too!

Notes:

radetzky march is like almost 200 bpm lol

BING!!!

Chapter 3

Summary:

Branzy tries to skate in front of a professional figure skater. (hint: he's terrible)

Notes:

tw: mentions of sexual harassment, violence, homophobia

i feel like rek gives a cinnamon roll vibe and then murders someone while chatting with the rest of apocalypse

Branzy hurried down the street. He was going to be late if he didn't make it there in five minutes, all because he'd overslept. To be fair, he stayed up really late last night because he had to settle the score in Mario Kart.

As he was about to turn the corner to the skating rink, he paused, hearing the telltale sounds of someone beating someone else up.

So, naturally, he did what every horror novel protagonist did and went directly towards the sound, arriving just in time to see Rek fling a twenty-something year old man into a trash can and dust off her hands.

"What the fuck is happening?" he stood there, dumbfounded, staring at the guy face-planted in the trash. "Please tell me you aren't a serial killer."

"Oh, the guy was making weird comments about me, so I beat him up," Rek said cheerfully, dragging the guy out to lay onto the ground. Oh fuck, he was going to be near someone who could probably dropkick him across a parking lot if she felt like it.

"Right. Well, the rink is just a block down..." he said awkwardly.

"Oh, right! Let's go, then!"

They walked into the building, with Branzy glancing at Rek cautiously every few seconds. 

"You don't skate, do you?" Rek asked the moment Branzy stepped out onto the ice.

"How did you know?" Branzy laughed nervously, having given up all pretense of knowing how to skate.

"You look like you think the ice is going to jump up and give you insurance ads," Rek told him bluntly.

Branzy looked suspiciously at the ice and prodded it with one skate. He stepped on and his legs immediately slid around clumsily, making him flail his arms and fall on his ass. He probably looked really stupid, judging by Rek's muffled laughter.

"How about we just go get hot chocolate?" she held out a hand. Branzy stared at it for a couple awkward moments before his brain loaded.

"Yeah, sure!" he quickly stood up by himself, pushing his finger through his white hair in an effort to dispel the redness coloring his face.

---

They ended up inside a nice little shop next to the library, with quiet music, huge windows, leafy potted plants, and curving designs that made the shop feel cozy and homely. 

"So, what do you do if you don't skate?" Rek asked, sipping a paper cup of hot chocolate.

Branzy smirked. "Well, why don't we make this a game? We take turns asking questions, and we both have to answer."

"Sure, why not. You can start," Rek nodded to him.

"Okay. How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"So you just got out of high school?" Branzy was surprised. Normal people usually waited a while before joining a sports team, especially ice sports.

"That was your question," she laughed. "You?"

"I just turned twenty-one last month."

"Oh, happy late birthday, then!"

"Thanks. Your turn," he reminded her.

"Okay. What's your favorite color?"

Branzy was surprised, but answered it anyway. "Purple."

"Probably blue, but yellow is a close second," she said after a moment of thought.

"I can tell," Branzy indicated her choice of outfit with a nod. "Anyway, how did you get into figure skating?"

Rek glanced out the window thoughtfully. "Well, I guess I got into cross-country in middle school, and then the coach said I should try skating, for some reason, and then I just liked it."

Branzy nodded understandingly. "I'm a snowboarder, so I guess it makes sense that I had a skateboard. The story is, I brought it on a family trip in high school, and decided to slide down a huge snowdrift with it, and then I asked my mom if I could get a snowboard for Christmas."

"You serious?" Rek laughed.

"Dead serious. The look on my mom's face was insane."

"I wish I'd seen it. So, what would you be doing if you didn't do skating?" 

Branzy had to take a moment to think. "Probably some kind of engineering job. I was pretty interested in it during middle school."

"Cool, cool." Rek nodded. "I'd probably do something in the medical field. Maybe biomed or a doctor?"

"Pretty solid job," Branzy hummed. "What's your gender or sexual orientation?"

"Moving a bit fast, huh?" Rek joked. "Well, I'm about ninety percent sure I'm pan, and I'm probably poly as well. I feel like I just have to trust someone enough to be in a relationship with them, but I can't take one without the other, y'know? Like two halves of a whole. Or thirds of a pie chart or whatever."

"I get that, but I'm, like, on a completely different spectrum," Branzy laughed. "You probably know I'm gay, since you saw me and my boyfriend that day-"

"ORDER NUMBER FIFTY-TWO!" a voice yelled across the otherwise quiet shop.

Branzy stood up. "Guess that's for me."

"ORDER NUMBER FIFTY-TWO, ARE YOU HERE? IF YOU DON'T SHOW UP, I'M DRINKING IT!"

"Goddamn baristas," Branzy muttered, coming up to the counter. "That's for me."

The guy, whose nametag read, "Clyde", shoved the hot chocolate a little harder than necessary. The drink sloshed inside the to-go cup.

"For you and your girlfriend?" he asked with a smirk. 

Branzy rolled his eyes. "She's not my girlfriend."

"Sure, sure, that's what they all say. I'm telling you, she seems like a nice girl. Probably great for you-"

"I'm gay, anyway, so no chance," he cut the guy off. He felt bad for the other employee working there.

Clyde's face twisted. "Gay? Of course, a bitch like you would be just like the rest of them-"

"Clyde!" the other employee snapped. "We don't say that here, or anywhere! It's your first day, I can still get you fired!" Her nametag read, "Lynn."

"But it's true," Clyde rolled his eyes. "They're all like this." Lynn looked ready to slap him across the face.

Branzy grabbed the cup, walked out, and slammed the door behind him as hard as possible.

---

"Stupid fucking homophobic bitches," he muttered to himself, "ruining a perfectly good shop on their first day." His phone buzzed, and he yanked it out of his pocket to see the text. The streets near his house blurred as he opened up his messaging app.

rekrap

> u ok? i saw u walk out

Right. Shit. He'd walked out without even saying goodbye to Rek.

< shit sorry i got mad at the barista i'm coming back

> no no don't worry! the guy seems like a moron. i'm already home anyway :)

< ok thx sorry again

> it's fine! :D

my goofy boyfie the jester

> everything good over there?

< im fine. just a stupid homophobic barista. 

< how did u know? u psychic or smth?

> just heard it from someone

< who? leo?

> nah. another friend in the shop messaged me. i don't think u 2 have met before

< oh ok

> need me to beat someone up?

< lmao no thanks

< i think his coworker is taking care of that anyway

< hes probably fired

> lmao

Branzy shoved his phone back with a huff. He'd sleep it off, apologize to Rek tomorrow, and run out his frustration during his snowboarding session.

Yeah, that seemed like a good idea.

Notes:

clyde is a bitch and an asshole >:(

hope u had a good day and drink some water!

Chapter 4

Summary:

Clown doesn't know how to deal with cats.

insurance comes knocking.

Notes:

*slams door open* DID YALL MISS ME

writers block sucks :(

why does every chapter start with clown pov

"You're early!" Rek called across the rink.

"You're early," Clown pointed out, stepping onto the ice. He stopped when he saw the cat ears settled on her head. 

"You actually did it?"

"Of course!" Rek sounded offended. "I keep my promises."

Clown opened and closed his mouth a few times, then clumsily maneuvered two hockey sticks and a puck in his hands, fumbling and managing to pass the stick to Rek. The net was already set up at one end.

"Here, just have your hands like this-" Clown started. Rek picked up the stick, poked at the puck a few times, and sent it skidding into the net.

Clown could only stare.

"Whoops." Rek blinked at the net, and then looked at Clown.

That was basically the entire morning, Clown demonstrating something and Rek picking it up abnormally quickly.

"I give up," Clown threw his hands up. "Let's go somewhere else."

A smirk spread across Rek's face. "I know a good place."

---

Clown would like to claim no responsibility over this situation.

A cat leaped onto his lap and curled up there as if it owned the spot. They were in a cat cafe. Out of all the options for a restaurant, they were in a fucking cat cafe.

...to be fair, they were really cute.

And he wasn't just talking about the cats.

BUT, when Rek asked if he was allergic to cats, this was not what he had in mind.

The cat interrupted his thoughts by pawing at his jacket.

"Fine," he muttered, giving into the pats.

"They're cute, aren't they?" Rek petted one as it sniffed at her face.

"If you could call it that," Clown responded dryly, locked in a staring contest with a calico that looked like it was debating the merits of ruining his nice jacket.

A muffled snicker came from across the table. Clown's mouth twitched, but he doggedly kept staring at the cat until it turned around and went back to its weird cat tree.

"Fucking creepy cats," he muttered under his breath.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't know you didn't like cats," Rek apologized, face a little bit flushed.

"No, it's fine!" Clown rushed to correct himself. "They're, uh, very interesting!" He hid his face behind a cup of tea. Yes, they were actually drinking tea instead of hot chocolate, for once.

Rek laughed. "You have a point, though. I've never seen cats stare at me like this." Clown looked pointedly at the cat purring under Rek's petting, a complete 180 from the calico earlier.

Just then, her phone rang. 

"Sorry, can I take this?" she asked, getting up. Clown nodded and went back to his food, trying his very best not to eavesdrop on the conversation happening outside.

"...right now? What about..."

"...yeah... fine, just don't sell... insurance..."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN TOO LATE?!"

A cat gave Clown a concerned look. Okay, now he was interested.

"...fine... feel bad..."

Clown looked back down at the cats when she came back in.

"Sorry," she sighed, picking up her backpack, "My siblings are telling me to come home right now."

"It's fine," Clown replied. "You have siblings?"

"Yeah, a fraternal twin sister and an older brother. See you around!"

---

Clown pushed open his front door with a tired huff. He should probably get ready to go meet up with Branzy soon, but he wanted to take a break at home first. He still had an hour, anyway. He opened his fridge to get milk for coffee.

"Clown Pierce, right?" 

Clown shrieked and dropped the milk carton, which fell on the floor with a loud thud.

The hoodie guy from the hot chocolate shop was leaning against his countertop with a dark stare, which was unfortunately trained right on him.

"What the fuck?! I can call the police on you!" he backed up against the fridge.

"Relax," the guy rolled his eyes. "I won't hurt you."

"Unless you have something to tell me?" the stare focused on him again as the guy stalked closer.

"N- no," Clown denied frantically. The milk carton threatened to make another dive for the floor. 

"Good," the guy huffed. "You can call me Ro, then."

"Nice to meet you. Uh, c- coffee?" The coffee machine was turned on. Clown was pretty he missed a few buttons here and there, but it was pretty justified.

"No thanks. I'm more of a tea person," Ro watched him with an almost amused expression on his face. Clown's fingers trembled as he gave a shaky nod.

"So, how was your day? Tell me all about it," Ro leaned back again, those eagle-like eyes never leaving him.

"Um. I tried to teach a figure skater to play hockey," Clown got the feeling that if he didn't answer, Ro could, and would, probably kill him with his bare hands.

"Interesting."

"A- and, we went to a cat cafe. The cats were kinda creepy, like, they kept staring at me. And stuff."

Ro's gaze sharpened. "And what did you two talk about?"

"J- just, like, uh, how we got into sports, and family members, and, uh, some interests..." Clown glanced at the unimpressed look on Ro's face and prayed that he wouldn't die to some guy with a hoodie from Walmart.

"What's your middle name?"

"What?"

"What's your middle name?" Ro repeated.

"Circo."

"You're lying."

Clown cringed. "It's Killjoy."

Ro snorted. "Alright, Clown Killjoy Pierce, I have some words for you."

"First," he walked menacingly around the kitchen, "Don't say anything weird to my sister."

"Your- sister? Who?"

"You know who she is. No weird comments, no flirting, nothing. Nada. Niets."

Clown blinked. "How did you know I speak Dutch-"

"Rule two. You can't be out with her for more than four hours at a time. Between nine am and six pm."

"Sounds reasonable."

"Did I ask?" Ro raised an eyebrow. Clown shrunk back into the fridge.

Ro leaned in closer, towering over him. 

"Rule three," he whispered. "If I hear a word of complaint, I will get a restraining order. Closer than ten feet, and a cop squad's coming after you. Consider yourself warned."

Clown swallowed. "Alright."

Ro stood up straight and opened the front door. "Well, I'll be off, then."

"Wait!" Clown shouted. "How did you know where I live?!"

Ro turned back. "I triangulated your location by sending you text messages and calculating how long it takes to deliver, down to the trillionths of a millisecond. Turns out it's quite effective, both for tracking someone down and for annoying them. Have a nice day." With that, he walked out, not even closing the door.

"THAT WAS YOU?!" Clown yelled in outrage. The only response he got was the sound of cackling that faded away into the breeze.

---

On the other end of the spectrum, Branzy was facing a very different, yet similar, situation.

"BRANZY PATCHES GODDAMN CRAFT! OPEN THIS DOOR OR I'LL BREAK IT DOWN!"

"I only have one middle name!" Branzy yelled back.

"AND IT'S STUPID! OPEN UP!"

Branzy really didn't want to have to replace his door, but he valued his life more. So he did not open the door.

The pink jumper girl came crashing through his open window. He cursed himself for not remembering to close it. The girl got up and fixed him with a death glare. 

"Listen here, you little-"

"Who the fuck are you?" Branzy scrambled backwards.

The girl paused. "You serious? We literally met at that shop."

"My memory sucks!"

"Well, you can call me Jumper, then. ANYWAY-"

If he wasn't so terrified of her, he would have laughed. Her name was Jumper and she was wearing a pink jumper? That was just comedy gold.

"-you better not try anything," she hissed. 

"W-what?" he laughed nervously.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." Jumper glared at him. Branzy did not, in fact, know what she was talking about.

"I don't."

"Just know that if you value your life, you stay far, far away from anything like that. Goodbye forever," she jumped out the window again.

"What the fuck."

Notes:

imagine coming into your house and seeing a guy with a blue hoodie leaning against your countertop and watching you creepily

now imagine hearing some insane insurance saleswoman screaming your full name outside your door while threatening to break it down

which one do you prefer?

Chapter 5

Summary:

the new year's party includes lots of drunk people. this is not a good thing.

Notes:

hello again

we're using american drinking laws here, so no drinking until you're 21

*side-eyes kab*

tw: drunk men being pushy, underage drinking, attempted non-con kissing

sorry rekpierce fans this chapter is all rekzy

"So," Clown started, "New Year's."

Branzy nodded. "New Year's." They both went to stare at the calendar in unison, a bright red circle and chicken-scratch handwriting indicating the date and time. Which was today. About two hours ago.

"SHIT!" Clown jumped up and opened up his phone. 

To all ice sports enjoyers,

You're invited to the New Year's party on December 31st! At the rink's lobby at 9 pm.

Sign up to bring a snack, drinks, or utensils if you can. See you there! 

Right there, written clearly on Google Sheets, was his and Branzy's names. He'd signed them up and forgotten about it.

Clown Pierce - apples

Branzy Craft - orange juice

"Uh, apples, orange juice- shit, we gotta go!"

The two of them ran off toward the convenience store instantly. The staff gave them weird looks as they rushed past.

Branzy frantically checked his watch. "It's 11:05 already!"

They slammed through the doors at 11:06, earning strange looks from that one family outside with a five-year-old, waiting for fireworks.

"Hi, Clown," Kab waved at them with a grin. "You're so late." 

"Hi," Clown mumble breathlessly.

"How's the love life going?" Kab slurred. She sounded drunk already.

"Kab, you're not old enough- nevermind," he sighed, steering her away from the tables. "Branzy, go have fun. I have to deal with her."

Branzy waved back and turned his attention to the long tables with people running around. A lot. Some of them were already drunk and others were on their way there.

"They really shouldn't have invited people under 21," he muttered with a laugh.

Some random guy got up on stage and shouted, "SNOWBOARDING SUCKS!"

Which, obviously, prompted Branzy to go over there, get up on stage, and insult the guy's sport for ten minutes straight.

He thought he saw Rek, Jumper, and that random other hoodie guy in the crowd.

There was a lot of shouting for the next hour, but that didn't even begin to compare to the volume after a drunk woman went up on stage and started yelling out an incomprehensible song, which made more drunk people yell even louder. 

Which, of course, was not nearly as loud as the countdown. 

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" the entire hall shouted as the fireworks went off outside somewhere. A few people thought they were gunshots and ran, sparking a whole commotion that rippled through the crowd.

Branzy screamed right alongside them, but he wasn't sure exactly how loud he was, given that his own ears probably had some lasting damage. He was pretty sure someone got tackled to the ground in excitement.

"ISN'T THIS FUN?!" he yelled at the person standing next to him. They yelled something back that looked like a "yeah", but he really couldn't tell. Branzy cheered louder. Everyone was crowding towards the big windows, which showed a great view of the fireworks going on outside.

rekrap

<you at the party?

>yeah

<wya

>skating rink

<u should see the fireworks

>i'll probably come when less ppl are there

>too crowded

<true lmao

<wait there

>?

>there's anothedbfyuvgyvf

<what?

<rek?

<REK

<im coming over there

Branzy hurried toward the rink, pocketing his phone instantly. A few security guards gave him passing glances, but they didn't try to stop him. Probably too scared of getting trampled.

At least, that was the case, until he turned a corner and ran straight into one.

"Whoa, calm down, young man," a guard said. He looked to be in his forties or fifties. His badge read, "Gary."

"Sorry, sorry," Branzy mumbled, trying to rush past him. "I gotta go-" 

A hand on his arm stopped him. "Why're ya running around here? Isn't the party that way?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Branzy nodded quickly. "Have you seen a brown-haired girl with blue eyes come this way?" His heart thumped a little too fast, from both the exertion and the worry. And the thought of Rekrap.

"Yeah?" Gary glanced towards the door curiously. "She your girlfriend or something?"

"Wh- no- whatever," Branzy huffed. "Thanks, gotta get going!" He shook off Gary's hold and ran towards the blue door, slamming it open.

Rows of seats passed by in a gray, blurry mass as he made his way over to the rink.

"I'm not drunk," an unfamiliar voice said.

"You definitely are," Rek's voice snapped back.

"Whatever, why don't we-"

"Frick off."

Branzy stepped onto the ice and saw a much taller man pinning Rek's shoulder to the wall of the rink. Her phone was laying on the ice a few feet away.

Something unpleasant and angry stirred inside him as the guy leaned down towards Rek's face. She just turned her head away and slapped him in the face. Branzy took a few steps forward.

"Who the fuck are you?" the drunk guy slurred, turning around in annoyance. He loosened his grip slightly.

"I'm here so you can get your ass handed to you," Branzy snapped.

The guy scoffed. "Who's gonna do that? You? You look like you couldn't shove a single person over."

Branzy watched him with a glare the same temperature as the rink. "No. But she can."

Rek blinked at him and shoved the guy onto the ice, kicking him in the face over and over until blood was pouring from his nose.

"Damn," Branzy said. "Didn't know you had that kind of violence in you."

"I reserve it for people like him," Rek huffed, stepping away from the guy clutching at his nose.

"Well, I don't know," Branzy shrugged. "There are quite a few witnesses here, right? I heard he got a little too drunk and tripped on the ice."

"Yeah. Better call in security."

Branzy pressed a few buttons on his phone and called the rink management.

"Hey, is this the security line? There's a drunk guy out here who tripped and broke his nose on the ice. Thank you, goodbye."

"So, why're you out here?" Branzy pocketed the phone. 

Rek sighed. "It's so loud out there, y'know? I feel like there's just too much sound and I can't really process anything until I get out on the ice." She pressed a hand over one ear as security rushed in, shouting and directing each other to pick up the passed-out drunk.

A little squirming tendril of guilt wormed its way into Branzy's gut. He'd been part of that problem.

"You still fine with fireworks?" he nodded in the direction of the party. "It's been a while, and people are probably getting bored by now. It goes on for thirty minutes."

"Well, come on, then!" Rek smiled, grabbing his wrist. Branzy's heart did not do a little cartwheel right then. Nope. Definitely not.

"W- wait, where are we going?" he yelped. The other just pulled him off the ice to a set of stairs tucked in the corner. They climbed up and emerged onto the roof.

The fireworks were in full view, bright and flashy across the dark sky. They burst into various patterns, like snowflakes, spheres, and some other crazy-looking thing that he couldn't identify. They blazed smoldering trails outward, cutting through the murky darkness.

Branzy shivered slightly as the cool night air hit him. He regretted just wearing his vest and a t-shirt. Next to him, Rek seemed just fine. Orange, green, blue, and purple darted through her ocean-coloured eyes, a tiny imitation of the grand display in front of them.

He startled as a brightly coloured jacket was draped over his back.

"You look cold," Rek said simply. "Sorry if it's a bit small."

"Uh- thanks," Branzy stammered out. Rek smiled at him and turned her attention back to the fireworks show. Branzy was glad it was dark out, or his reddened face would have been in full view of anyone.

The bright bursts of colour died down after a while. The last smoky trails dissipated into the air, leaving a blank canvas. 

"Well," Branzy sighed. "Time to go, then." He stood up, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"The best part comes after," Rek told him with a laugh. Branzy sat down.

"So, what's this best part you're talking about?"

"Close your eyes for a few minutes."

Branzy followed the instructions. The silence stretched on between them, until he started to fidget and carefully opened his eyes.

He wasn't greeted with a blank, dark, canvas, but a million pinpricks of light hanging impossibly far away. They swirled across the sky in imperfect, but beautiful patterns.

"Holy shit," he breathed.

"It's better outside the city," Rek smiled, leaning back.

"You're telling me that it gets better than this?" Branzy turned to her with an incredulous look.

"I told you this is the good part!" she laughed. "Sometimes the best things get left behind just 'cause they're not eye-catching, or flashy, or fast enough. It's not so bad to slow down and look at things you see every day!"

"That's... pretty deep," Branzy nodded.

"Well, y'know, some old guy probably said that three thousand years ago or so," Rek shrugged. Branzy burst out laughing.

"It's getting pretty late," Rek glanced at her watch, which told them that it was close to one am. Time flies when you're having fun.

"It's just New Year's," Branzy grinned.

"Get some sleep," she smiled back. "Just because it's New Year's doesn't mean you don't have to practice."

"Okay, coach," he rolled his eyes playfully. She laughed and extended a hand to pull him up. A warm feeling tingled where their hands met.

"Your boyfriend's probably waiting."

"Oh, he had to take care of his drunk sister."

"And this is why you don't drink if you're a lightweight," Rek said. Branzy hoped she didn't pick up on the fact that he was one.

"Get home safe!" he called as they parted ways in the main room.

A wave and a thumbs-up reassured him.

Notes:

hope you guys enjoyed! my fav part to write was definitely the fireworks scene

Chapter 6

Summary:

Rek teaches Clown to figure skate.

Notes:

sorry this chap took so long. ran out of motivation.

but hey, when there's no pirate trio fics on ao3, you do it yourself! *rubs hands together*

"WAKE UP!" Kab yelled.

"Five minutes..." Clown groaned.

"I'LL READ YOUR DIARY!"

"You wouldn't."

Kab tapped her foot impatiently. When there was no response, she pulled a sunflower-covered notebook out of her pocket.

"'Dear diary, the kid in front of me took the last soda at the stand."

A loud rustling sound arose inside the bedroom, accompanied by a flurry of curses.

"Ooh, what's this?" Kab flipped to another page. "Glitter pen? And you wrote someone's name, too..."

A crashing sound shook the floor.

"Oh, oh! I hit the jackpot! 'Dear diary, today a seven-year-old made me cry-'"

Clown slammed open the door and stared her down, ripping the journal from her hands. Kab just gave him a shit-eating grin.

"Don't you have a date with someone?"

"It's not a date! I already have a boyfriend!" Clown yelled.

"You can always have two partners-"

Clown slammed the door.

---

"Rek, what is this?" Clown stared at the shop they were in.

"What's your shoe size?" she asked, ignoring the question.

"Uh..." he checked his shoes and gave it to the person at the counter.

"What are we doing?" he hissed.

"You taught me hockey, so it's only fair that I teach you figure skating!" Rek said cheerfully.

h u h ?

"Wait, hold on- you don't need to buy me skates! I can pay for it myself!"

"Sucks to be you, get better next time," Rek grinned. "I already paid, anyway."

Clown sighed. "I'll get it next time. You always do this."

So that was how they stepped out of the shop, a new pair of skates in hand. Clown stumbled as they stepped onto the rink. The design was unfamiliar to him, making his muscle memory half-useless.

He skated around for half an hour before he got the hang of it.

"Hey, I got it!" he called.

Rek smiled. "Good job! Uh, I think we can start with toe loops, maybe?" Clown nodded uncertainly.

"C- can you demonstrate it for me?" he asked. Rek nodded and started gliding forward before taking off on her heel and spinning in the air.

Clown had to say that she looked really cool when she did that.

"Yeah, so first, you put your foot like this..." Rek fumbled her way through an explanation and Clown nodded like he understood.

---

"Branzy, are you sure you know how to do this? We can do something else-"

"No, I'm fine!" Branzy yelled back, wobbling on his bike. "I just haven't done this in a while!"

Rek gave him a skeptical look but continued biking. Branzy's bike swerved dangerously behind her. 

"So, what are you doing out here?" Branzy asked.

"Delivering mail," Rek gestured to the thick stack of envelopes in her bike basket. 

"Cool, that's nice," Branzy's fingers twitched nervously. He couldn't deny the fact that he liked her, and not just as a friend, but he didn't want to leave Clown, either. He didn't want to just pick one.

"Well, looks like this is my stop!" he called, veering off the path at the first sign of the cafe he was meeting his friend at to spare himself the awkwardness.

"Bye!" Rek called with a wave. Branzy waved back, hiding his reddened face.

He put his bike outside a cafe and walked inside. Vitalasy was already waiting for him.

"Hi, Branzy!" Vi called. 

"Hey, Vi," Branzy greeted. "How have things been?"

"Oh, you know, the usual, stupid customers who can't figure out how a grocery store works, drunk coworkers that I have to drive home, and some random kid crying because he got separated from his parents!" Vi complained.

Branzy patted him on the back sympathetically. "Sounds pretty bad."

"How about you?" Vi looked up curiously. "Any gossip to share?"

"Vitalasy. My good friend. I need relationship advice." Branzy slammed his hands down on the table.

"Huh?" Vi stared at him blankly. "I'm not sure I can help much, since I literally asked Subz to be my boyfriend in the middle of a McDonald's queue in a hoodie and jeans."

Branzy groaned. "I'm dating Clown, and I still am, but I like this other girl, too, and I don't know what to do."

"Damn, that's a lot worse than my problems," Vitalasy commented with a sigh. "Why don't you just ask Clown if he's poly?"

"Clown barely knows her," Branzy grumbled. 

"My advice? If you really like her that much, just ask her out."

"But I still like Clown."

"Seems to me like you got some feelings to sort out. See who you really want to be with."

"You are horrible at this, Vi," Branzy rested his forehead on the table.

"Good. Your coffee's here."

"How did you order my coffee without knowing what I want?"

Vi looked him in the eye. "Branzy. Branzy Craft. You get the exact same order at every single cafe. Medium mocha latte with one shot of espresso and milk chocolate plus those little chocolate bits sprinkled on it-"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Branzy laughed. The waiter gave them the check, and a stare-down occurred between the two before Vi slammed his hand down on it and pulled it closer to him, placing his credit card on top.

Branzy narrowed his eyes at him. "I'm paying next time."

"Get good," Vi returned, handing the check to the waiter. 

"Oh, you little sh-"

Vi shrieked and dashed out of the cafe, laughing as Branzy chased him down.

They bumped into a much taller person.

"Vi, what the fuck," a monotone voice said. Subz peered down at them from behind his glasses.

"Subz! Save me!" Vi squeaked, hiding behind his boyfriend. Subz twisted around to stare down at him, unimpressed. 

"No."

Vitalasy shrieked as Branzy tackled him to the ground and then ran. 

"I'M GOING TO GET YOU, BRANZY CRAFT-" 

"Nope," Subz held him by the back of his hoodie, easily lifting him off the ground. Vi dangled awkwardly, kicking his legs like a toddler. Branzy gave him a salute and ran off, snickering the whole way back to his house.

Notes:

i got in a fistfight with this writer's block and it brought knives. then this chapter betrayed me and joined the fight, making it a 2v1. with my amazing awesomeness, i won the very unfair fight. thank you for coming to my ted talk

can u imagine subz holding vitalasy by his hoodie like a cat. that scene seems too funny to me.