One-shots [Reqs: 5]

Oh, Jeez - 2

cross and killer are doing their best

it's finally been done! obviously, it's not the end, there's more to come, but i literally don't know how long it'll be before i update this one again

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Cross gripped his shoes in one hand, the leather squeaking in his firm grip. Killer scratched his neck, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Uh. Here, just.." He motioned to a shoe rack hanging off a closet door. It didn't have many shoes, Cross noted as he stuffed his own shoes in two separate shelves. Just miscellaneous items. A feather, a stick, and some string poked out of one, and a fuzzy mouse out of another. Cross plucked the mouse out, puzzling over it.

Killer chuckled, "Those are, uh. Those are Mishmish's." Cross glanced up, a brow raised. "Mishmish? Who's-" A rather loud meow cut him off, followed by the sound of rapid thumping. A blur of brown and tan came barreling towards Killer, Cross stiffening in alarm. Killer crouched down, scooping up the yowling furball that was a cat, holding it under its arms. Cross stared at the cat with wide eyes, the mouse clenched tightly in his hand. Killer held the cat out, grinning. "This little bastard." Mishmish's tail snapped side to side, a low sound building up from the cat's chest.

Cross tilted his head. "...You have a cat." Killer dropped Mishmish, the cat circling around his feet. It set a paw on his foot, staring up at him. Killer snorted, crouching to rub at the feline's ear. "Yeap! He's a sweetheart." Mishmish hissed, his ears flattening, a paw coming up to slap at Killer's hand. The other hummed in amusement, "As much as a cat can be."

Mishmish shivered, slipping away from Killer to peer up at Cross. He blinked at it, feeling a swell of anxiety rise in his chest. Hesitant, he eased his grip on the mouse, taking it by the tail and offering it to the cat, who flinched at the movement. Mishmish narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to scent Cross's bare feet. After a long moment, Mishmish huffed and walked away, tail arched proudly as he sauntered out of sight. Killer gave a bright grin, "Lil' guy's positively enamored with you, Crossy!"

Cross blinked again, awkward. "Um. It, uh, it didn't.. seem like it." Killer waved a hand, still beaming, "Trust me, I'm an expert on all things cat. He didn't jump at you and claw your face off, for one thing, and he sniffed you!" The mouse was put back in its little cubby, the fuzzy tail drooping off the side. Cross shifted his weight onto one leg, leaning against the frame and lifting one brow. "He sniffed me? How does that equate to good?"

Killer's grin was wide, the faintest pink tinting his cheeks in a delighted flush, and, if Cross looked hard enough, there was a faint ring of pale white in Killer's eyes. He looked happy, overjoyed even, his tone jovial as he answered, "Familiarizing himself with you, basically, so he can recognize you next time a lot easier." Cross stiffened at the mention of 'next time,' stepping back into a tense stance.

The happiness in Killer's expression dimmed, his smile dropping into a neutral one, and the warm atmosphere shifted into something more serious. Cross cleared his throat, though his voice still shook slightly. "What did you want to talk about?" Killer's shoulders slumped, a heavy sigh leaving him. He tried for a grin, "...Let's uh. Let's get you out of those clothes, yeah?"

———-

Under the low murmur of the tv, Cross could faintly hear the hum of the fridge. The clock on the wall- a silly thing, cat-shaped with eyes and tails that went back and forth as it ticked- gave a constant ticking that lulled him into a doze.

Despite Killer's apartment being neither cold or warm, Cross still trembled under his blanket, trying hard to stay in the fluffy haze he'd settled into. He tried not to pay any mind to the thoughts swirling in his head. Killer had kept them, his belongings that Cross had left behind.

Cross wasn't sure how much he actually had, but there was a stack of boxes in the storage room. The one Killer had opened was filled with clothes, Cross's clothes. The turtleneck and shorts he'd taken out were Cross's. The moment he'd realized, Cross's chest had gone tight and his throat closed.

He shivered under his blanket, fingers clutching a handful of his old turtleneck. Killer had kept them. He hadn't forgotten about him, and clearly, he didn't hate him either. Cross ducked into sweater's high collar, relishing in the familiarity of it, squeezing his eyes to keep the tears in.

Their conversation had been a strange one. Killer had visibly struggled to get his words out, and Cross had almost laughed at the strained expression he made. But his speech had been sincere, stammered and jumbled as it was. Killer had been blushing a pretty red by the time he finished, his floundering unfairly adorable. It was sweet. The hopeful expression he'd given Cross still lingered in his mind's eye, plaguing and tempting him.

"I...I want.."

But could he really? He'd built his own life, he had friends and people to see. Was he really willing to drop all of it for Killer? Did he really want to throw it all away?

"Can you... stay? W...with me?"

Cross covered his face his an arm, huffing out a soft noise. His soul throbbed. Yes. Yes, he would.

"It's- It's okay if you don't want to, I, I just.."

He groaned, pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes, as if it would get rid of the image of Killer's excited smile.

"I'll see you in the morning, Crossy," Killer whispered, soft and content, his inverted soul casting a warm glow in the dark.

The TV shut off, Cross tossing the remote on the floor, worming into the couch, pointedly ignoring the light purple glow of his face. The blush died down, gradually, and he sighed, sinking into his pillow. He went still as soon as he heard it.

Killer's voice came through the walls, a low tune of some kind of melody. It was too quiet to make out words, but it didn't seem to be in English. There was a faint meow and a dull thump, and the singing cut off with a grunt. Cross lamented the loss, silently wishing for Killer to pick up again, but there was only a muffled laugh and a hushed, "okay, okay, I'll stop."

He could almost picture it; Killer curled in his own bed, eyes lidded and smiling sleepily, petting Mishmish and relaxed, his soul shining and beautifully inverted. A rush of heat startled the image away, Cross blinking his eyes open to stare at the ticking clock. His face was hot with renewed blush, his soul pounding with want.

"...Shit."

He was so screwed.

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cross is one hundred percent [still] in love.

hey hey, how are you guys liking the double update? pretty swag isn't it?