Chapter Text
For Ze, reality often feels as if it is slipping through his fingers. Reality is grains of sand, too fickle to hold for long, too solid to slip away from when he is sinking.
He thinks he is sinking. Spiraling again. It feels more like a plea for attention than anything—not quite catatonic, nor is he fine enough to act it without cracking. The thought makes him shove his palms against his eyes. Ze curls in on himself.
There's not a specific reason he's spiraling this time. It's something that built up slowly, he's pretty sure. Escaping the hole, never trusting anything being real anymore, the eyes.
Regect. He doesn't know how to handle how soft its been with him, like he might break at any given moment. Maybe he might. Maybe he'll fracture under the next gentle brush of the arm, splinter at his hushed words, form cracks where the other's mouth meets.
He can't think about this. Not right now.
He attempts to focus on the mattress beneath him. Not uncomfortable, but not soft enough to sink into. He opts to instead wrap his arms around his knees when he feels his focus slipping again. His own touch is something, he thinks, that he can assure himself is real.
Ze cracks his eyes open after a long moment. He's met with his own reflection, strangely, though he isn't sure when he put a mirror in his room. It's a full length mirror, mounted against the wall at the foot of his bed.
A blink. There are eyes, prying, judging, watching, in every undefined corner of the darkness. He blinks again and they are gone.
It's still enough to make him freeze. His breath and heart quicken alike, but he doesn't move, because he knows there's nothing to be done. Screaming will bring him no help. It is not a being tangible enough to be shot.
His breaths come more uneven now. A few shallow rasps in quick succession, then a more desperate gasp for air in an attempt to calm himself. It doesn't work, all attempts to take deep breaths only worsening his state. It isn't long before he gives up on that.
Shadows blur together, melting into things that aren't there, clutter becoming humanoid shapes. His skin prickles with the sensation of being watched, but the eyes are gone. He shuts his eyes tight against the darkness.
The tears come after that. They bubble up in his eyes before spilling over. They burn, making a dull ache settle behind his eyelids. He can already feel the throb in his head from choking on his sobs.
Laughter rings out and he bolts upright so fast his head spins, louder and then louder still. It makes his head hurt worse. Ze forces himself onto shaky legs so he can stumble forward.
It feels as if he might vomit. The dark room is blurry and spinning, making his headache worse. He almost doubles over before he feels his body hit the door.
Blindly, he drags his hand along the wall until he feels something, and suddenly the lights flick on.
The sound stops, and all he can hear is his own ragged breathing, until even that seems to slip away from him and the silence presses against his skull. He's not entirely sure how long he's leaning against his door. He eventually slid to the ground when his legs became too weak to hold him up, pulling his knees to his chest amd scrubbing the tears out of his eyes so he can see.
His breathing evened out slowly. The now-lit room helped calm his nerves, though he still found himself eyeing the shadows, however small they may be.
Maybe he should go wake up Moe. It was late, but he just couldn't be alone right now. Or he could suck it up and go find Regect—he was probably awake at this hour.
The door rattled against his back before he can finish the thought, startling him into scrambling away from it. He stumbled over his own feet, landing hard against the carpeted floor. So much for being calm.
The door creaked open and—speak of the devil—Regect stood before Ze in all his headless glory.
"Yo, dude, are you good??" Regect coughed awkwardly, staring at the man on the floor. Ze didn't reply for a moment. Truthfully, he still wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't. Was it even worth responding?
He realized he had been staring too long. The entity started to open his mouth to speak when Ze promptly cut him off.
"Why are you shaking my door in the middle of the night??" he snapped, feigning more irritation than he felt. He hoped it was convincing.
It wasn't.
Regect rolled his eyes. "Can I not be awake in my own house?"
"Your house? It's my house too! And MY ROOM!"
"Okay, but that's besides the point–"
"It's literally not but okay–"
"You're avoiding my question-!"
"–it's my room so I can be annoyed'
"Oh my GOD, it isn't that big of a deal,"
"when you're INVADING MY PRIVACY."
"ZE JUST ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION."
"WHAT QUESTION??"
The brief silence after his response allowed him the time to realize that oh shit, he was still on the ground. He was clumsily trying to stand when it started speaking again.
"I asked if you're okay, dumbass."
He squinted at Regect as he steadied himself. "You actually asked if I was good, not okay–"
"So you did hear me, asshole!"
It was Ze's turn to roll his eyes now. He hated that he already felt lighter, somehow, from their banter.
"Doesn't mean I knew what you were talking about, idiot." he shot back.
Regect gave a frustrated groan. It stepped further into the room. "You're still avoiding answering. You've been acting weird lately, man."
Ze shifted uncomfortably. "I'm fine. What do you care, anyway?"
"You're— worrying, uh, Moe! Yeah! I don't want her losing sleep over your ass." his tail flicked and lashed, agitated, as he strode forward. "Also, that doesn't answer my question."
"You're convincing absolutely no one with that shit. Also," Ze mocked, drawing the word out. "that literally does answer your question."
Regect chose not to reply to the first comment. It instead leaned forward, uncomfortably close, and grinned. "I actually asked if you're good, not fine."
Ze blinked, then groaned when he realized what the entity was getting at. He planted his hand onto Regect's face and shoved him back. "Shut up."
He recoiled just as quick when he felt something wet drag up his palm.
"Did you just fucking lick me?" he wiped his hand off on his pants, grimacing. "You gross motherfucker."
All he got in answer was snickering.
As much as he's enjoying their bickering (though he'd absolutely never admit that to Regect), he's also a little tired of its antics for the moment. His head also still hurts.
So he turns, sighing and hoping it sounds irritated enough. "I'm going back to bed." he says, a lie.
He knows he won't be getting any more sleep tonight. He'll probably be up all night plagued by thought, picking apart his reflection in the mirror he didn't know he had. It's fine, he can always nap on the couch in the morning, when it's light out and the other two are both awake.
Oh right, the mirror. He lifts his gaze to glance at the foot of his bed, and—
He stops. There's nothing. Just a wall, blank and unimposing.
The sight distracts him enough that he doesn't notice Regect's approach until a clawed hand lays heavy on his shoulder.
He flinches and swats the hand away with a little more force than intended, whipping around.
"Chill the fuck out, man. Just me." It lifts both hands in a placating gesture. "Are you sure you're good?"
"Yes, I'm good." he grits. "Peachy, even."
It furrows his brow at him. "Ze. You know you can–"
"Don't you dare,"
"talk to us—"
"There's nothing to talk about. I'm fine. I'm tired and want to sleep."
Both entity and player are quiet for a few long seconds.
Finally, Regect scoffs and starts walking away from Ze. "Whatever you say. You're gonna miss my wonderful presence,"
"As if!" Ze calls just as the door shuts, and he's alone again.
In all honesty, he has no clue why he did that. Regect pisses him off, sure, but he supposes being around him is better than being alone.
But he's also not desperate enough to come crawling back. (Yet.)
So he simply returns to his bed, collapsing bonelessly against the mattress. He doesn't need company. Yeah.
He doesn't make it very long before the quiet starts to get to him. Ze had always grown up with noise, and even into his adulthood it felt like there was always something going on. Regect yelling, crashing through walls, breaking things, the likes.
The rare dull moment in the house was disconcerting, especially with Ze already being freshly paranoid from his earlier panic attack. Whatever it was.
He rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling. Blank like it should be. Like it is.
For a second, he still swears he sees an eye. That's what finally makes him sit up with a shudder.
Is he really going to stoop as low as seeking out Regect for company? Surely not, right?
He finds himself in front of his door anyway.
He's debating with himself for an embarrassing amount of time before he finally just twists the handle.
The darkness of the hallway makes shivers crawl down his spine again. This is stupid, he thinks. He takes a deep breath and starts walking before he can freak himself out or lose the nerve.
The hallway in their new house isn't all that long, but him practically tip-toeing down it makes the walk a little longer. It gives him the time to think.
Regect is in his room, he knows that much. He heard his door close earlier. He could have teleported out since then, of course, but when does the dumbass actually remember that he can do that?
It's only when he almost walks into a door (again) does he realize that he's spaced out. Oh well. He's here now anyway.
Ze can't help hesitating again. His hand hovers uselessly in the air and doesn't knock, though he wills it to. What if he just gets mocked and turned away? The thing hates him, doesn't it?
(He knows that isn't completely true about either of them. He knows that if he just explains, Regect would let him stay. He just can't force the words out of his throat, can't accept that the tension between them isn't hatred anymore.)
(He can't admit that he thinks about their stupid late nights together too much. That enemies don't do the things they do.)
The darkness starts to engulf him. Faintly, he hears laughter, and loses track of what is real. Is he actually here right now, or is it just the eyes? What if he's still in the hole?
Did he ever actually escape?
The sound of knocking snaps him out of it, and he realizes it's of his own doing.
There's a groan from the other side of the door. A shuffle, a crash that makes Ze regret his decision even more, and then the door finally opens.
He's met with Regect, who looks cocky as ever. "Oh, did someone miss me?" he teases.
Ze can't muster up the energy to retort. He scowls, but that's all. He can't quite focus on Regect, his eyelids feel heavy, and his entire skull aches. Is he even more insane than usual, or can he hear the laughing still?
"Yo, dude? Ze?" a voice makes him blink, and it takes him a few seconds to realize he hasn't responded.
"The eyes," is all he can manage. He doesn't know what else to say, can't explain that he just can't be alone right now.
Regect's expression still softens just slightly. It knows, of course, of the eyes. Ze had begrudgingly told his two friends (was Regect a friend?) about the eyes and about the hole on one of his better days.
He hates how Regect's been softer with him now. He hates how it recognizes when he's slipping away from reality. He hates him.
A hand is waved slowly in front of his face. He tries to pay attention, but the dark is still making his skin crawl, and he's still not completely sure that anything is real.
He's practically dragged into the room, forcing Regect to have to steady him when he stumbles. It annoys him enough to glare at him.
Oddly, the reaction makes the entity noticeably less tense. He's not in the right headspace to think too hard about that.
"Could've just said you wanted a sleepover, you know."
The comment catches him a little off guard. He takes in Regect's grin for half a second before he's fighting against letting his own tug at his lips.
"Really? A sleepover? We're not kids," he shoves his shoulder lightly.
He's pushed in turn. "We can still have sleepovers! Sleepovers are very mature, I'll have you know." it scoffs, as if personally offended. Ze just shoves his shoulder into Regect's chest as a reply.
It turns into a play-fight for a few minutes until Ze lands on the mattress of the bed he didn't realize he'd been backed into. He almost jumps when both shoulders are grasped to hold him in place.
"Ha! My master plan!" Regect snickers, like a child that's won a fight over a toy. "You'll have no choice but to go to sleep now!"
"Did you seriously do all of that just to get me to lay down?" Ze snorts. He kicks at its side, earning an exaggerated sound of pain. "Asshole!"
He doesn't fight as hard as he probably should when he's manhandled into laying against the pillows. Really, they're both giggling like they're teens all over again.
Eventually, they settle, Ze catching his breath as the only one out of the two that needs to breathe. When he's calm again, he notices that the entity's moved to lay at the foot of his own bed.
"Dude. What are you doing now." he can't help sounding exasperated.
"Laying down. What, can I not be on my own bed anymore??"
"No—I mean yes, that's the issue! Why're you down there?"
"What, do you wanna like, cuddle or something?"
Ze's baffled after that. Of course, he barrels over whatever Regect is saying next with his own reply. "WHEN did I–"
"That's kinda gay, Ze."
"even say that. How–"
"I mean, would it–"
"did you even get–"
"still be gay if we have socks on?"
"to that conclusion??"
"I wouldn't mind—"
Both of them stop talking for a bit after that, staring at each other.
"Genuinely what are you even talking about." the player is the one to break the silence this time.
"I didn't say shit!" it defends.
"You're literally over here talking about cuddling, dude."
"I think you're hearing things."
"I'm not hearing things!"
"You could be!"
"Shut up and get over here."
Regect, like a dog, does in fact shut up and get over there. He settles beside Ze somewhat stiffly.
For once, it's Ze that works up the courage to shuffle closer like permission. It's all the encouragement Regect needs to throw a half-visible arm over the boy and tug him into his arms.
It's sickeningly familiar, the way his body fits against his. The way it holds him so easily, unaware of his turmoil. Or perhaps it knows.
He hates the way he doesn't hate the kiss that is planted on his forehead. He hates that it's familiar enough that he doesn't flinch away from it.
(He thinks he loves it. He thinks he loves the way they are behind closed doors.)
Ze turns onto his side and wraps one arm around Regect. His glare isn't so convincing when he's sure his face might be a little red.
He's not sure how he feels about the way Regect looks at him. He wishes, desperately, he could pick apart every emotion behind his eyes, because it looks horrifyingly similar to love.
Does he feel sick, or are butterflies supposed to feel this way?
The claw that rests on his cheek brings him gently out of his thoughts. Maybe he should just enjoy the moment. He can wallow in regret later.
His free hand grasps Regect's. He brings it closer, kissing the palm. The slightly flustered noise he receives in return is enough to make him smile.
Maybe it's just because of how exhausted he is. They'll be at each others throats again come morning.
For now, he finds himself dozing off with his enemy's hand in his.