Xisuma's Parrotsitting [HermitSteal AU]

Welcome to the Household!

Cooking has always been one of Xisuma's favorite pastimes. The serenity and simplicity of it, humming a tune to himself as he languidly stirs the pasta in the small pot, watching the steam rise lazily from the boiling water, staring into the bubbles as the fizzle and pop. Hypnotizing is what it is, white noise for his thoughts. A meal big enough for two, though there should be enough leftovers for a spaghetti side-dish at dinner.

It's been a long time since he's cooked for anyone other than himself. When he had to take care of his younger brother, Xanthus, he used to cook all the meals and do all the chores in the house whilst their parents were... nowhere to be found, honestly. Xisuma doesn't know what happened to them; he doesn't remember either of them. Somehow, he had managed to balance high school and his brother's activities and he had cared for the kid until he could take care of himself.

Eventually, they sold the house, separated, got their own little homes and since then, they only see each other every other month. Life is what's keeping them apart now; Xanthus was accepted into a university last year and he's been doing his best to pass his classes, whilst Xisuma was busy working at a café. A simple job with decent pay and work hours that allows him to live in a simple apartment independently.

Turning off the stove, he takes the pot off of the heat, doing the short back and forth to strain the food. He puts the lid on at an angle and pushes it to the back of the counter.

There are keys at the door and then it's opening, promptly shutting with barely a sound following. Apparently, he's finished lunch right on time. He reaches into the cupboard and grabs two bowls, putting them on the counter and looks through the kitchen drawers for tongs.

"Welcome home", he throws over his shoulder as the chair at the table squeaks. There is some shuffling and ruffling and something is dropped to the floor –presumably a backpack. "How was school?"

There is a moment of silence. Slightly concerned at the lack of a response, Xisuma turns to the side to take a look.

A boy is sitting at the table –no older than twelve years old– a nest of blue, green-tipped hair on his head and dapples of white and black down feathers racing from his cheekbones to his similarly feathered ears. Small wings rest firm against his back, an exterior of light cyan with an underside of gold. His clothes are only a little worn, much better than the ones Xisuma first saw him in. In his hands is a gun, the safety switched off (Xisuma doubts the kid knows how to switch it on but he won't even allow Xisuma close enough for him to show how– ), aimed –lazily but still threatening-ly– at his chest.

"Food", is the simple, one-word demand the kid makes. Wide, white eyes stare him down through a haze of green tufts. The boy's hand twitches, briefly pointing to the counter with the handgun.

Xisuma doesn't argue. While the fact that the safety is switched off makes an anxious tingle run down his spine, he is aware of how low the chances of the boy pressing the trigger will be if he serves him his food... It's their little agreement, afterall –thought there was no contract signed.

"I take it your first day didn't go well", he nonchalantly responds, trying his best to ignore the gun aimed at him. He doesn't know if it is empty or full but he'd like not to find out the hard way. Quickly, he arranges the table, handing the kid a fork and his share of food before slowly approaching the fridge to grab the grated cheese from the bottom drawer.

The gun is immediately put aside and the kid digs in like it's the last meal he'll ever have. Xisuma can't blame him, really. He sits opposite of the boy, acutely aware of the space he occupies and how the kid's eyes glance at him whenever he moves.

"So? Did you make any friends, Parrot?"

A shake of the head is all he needs to know that the boy, Parrot, did not make any friends.

"They're all... weird"

"New things are weird"

And the conversation ends there as Parrot slurps his spaghetti with no tact.

Xisuma takes off his mask and lets it hang around his neck. The air is stale and humid but oxygen isn't the thing keeping him alive.

"You said you can't breathe without your mask", Parrot observes through a mouthful of spaghetti.

He takes a bite out of his own plate before inhaling the sweet darkness swirling in the mask. He responds calmly.

"I can't", a pause for another bite "My body doesn't require oxygen like humans, which makes eating a hassle, really", because I'm suffocating . He hasn't told the kid that little detail, yet.

They've had this conversation about a dozen times now. Parrot is curious, like all kids, about the unknown. Anything that he can reach, he'll poke and shake around in his hands like a wrapped present until he figures out what it is but thankfully, Xisuma is tall enough for a twelve year old to not be able to reach his face. That doesn't mean that Parrot hasn't tried.

No, no. The first time he asked about it, he pointed the gun at Xisuma's head and demanded for the mask to come off. Xisuma had complied, shaken and stunned that there was a kid threatening him and not a mugger. Admittedly, seeing the kid's reaction to the black abyss that was the void swirling through the tubes was funny. On the other hand, giving in to the threats of a kid whose clothes were hanging off its bones was embarrassing.

Parrot narrows his eyes at him. Xisuma spares him a glance. The boy continues to stare, so Xisuma locks eyes with him.

"What is it?", he asks, subconsciously patting at the corners of his lips with his fingers. Is there something on his face?

The boy looks at the gun briefly, then at the floor, like he's calculating something and Xisuma grows uneasy.

"The teacher gave us work"

Ah . That's a relief; Xisuma thought Parrot would have unpacked something far worse than being assigned homework –he's done it before.

"Homework?" –a nod– "Which subject?"

"English", Parrot responds with a shrug, poking at the remains in his bowl. Xisuma puts his mask back over his face, taking in a deep breath as fresh void fills his lungs, and he rises from his seat. He doesn't miss how Parrot's hand moves on instinct towards his gun, fingers barely touching the handle as his eyes lock on Xisuma's hands.

Carefully, Xisuma takes the empty bowl from the kid after he picks up his own and turns to put them in the sink to wash later. He hears feathers ruffling and the rustling of nylon fabric and when he glances over his shoulder, he sees Parrot's ear feathers flare for a moment before settling, his school bag (brand new but stained with... Void knows what) resting against his stomach.

There is a book on the table, right where his plate used to be. Following it is an old, beat up notebook with equally questionable stains.

"It's an essay", Parrot mutters, poking at the cover. Xisuma hums affirmatively, urging him to continue. "Something about a play, I don't know. Are you any good at essays?"

Turning off the tap, he wipes his hands on a nearby towel, still facing away.

"I'm decent. Do you need help writing it?"

"Oh, no, no", there is an audible drag of something metallic. Dread slowly crawls up Xisuma's spine as he slowly turns around. Parrot has the gun in his hands again. "You're going to write it, I'll observe"

The little– He has the audacity to smile . Xisuma gawks at the kid. Never had he ever thought that this would be the reason school essays would come in handy as knowledge.

There is no other solution than to sit and sulk and write away...

_____

Hello! Welcome to another crossover story brought to you by yours truly! I have already published this on Ao3 and I will slowly bring the story to Quotev and Wattpad! :D