Life is a fuck

Hand in dark, wet hand, they walked up to the glitched door together. They agreed on two things currently; the first being that they had to stop Smile from winning, even if they had absolutely no clue if this would even work. The second being that they both, despite their recent arguments, needed to stay together.

Chris allowed Andrew to take the first step towards the blinding light behind the door, following quickly to keep pace with his friend while he squeezed said boy's hand. The poor guy was trembling… Chris should’ve tried harder to be there for him sooner. It’s his fault, all of this. He should’ve—

“Chris,” Andrew spoke in an uncharacteristically stern tone that snapped the damp creature back to reality, “we need to do this now. I feel my… connection to myself getting narrower every second. Count to three?”

Chris nodded. He truly admired Andrew. If he had Andrew’s determination to continue despite everything… would any of this had happened? He wasn’t sure.

Andrew nodded in return, voice breaking as he spoke, “okay, we go at the same time then, alright? I’m- I’m not losing you again if this ends up being a stupid decision.”

Chris's heart (or lack thereof) churned with regret at the sadness in his voice. “Andrew…”

“One,” said man spoke over him with an unmistakable tone of urgency as they stepped closer to the light. It chilled Chris, the reality of this situation, and he spoke along with him.

“Two,” another step.

“Three,” they practically shouted at the same time as they squeezed through the one-block wide door frame. The proximity was… nice. More than nice, it was euphoric to be this close to Andrew. Well… for Chris it was, at least. The other scrunched up his nose in disgust. Ah… must be the unmistakable wet and earthy odor.

“Damn. You smell like shit.”

“Well, you’re not much be-”

The blind light had burned them bright enough to cut them off from their conversation and Andrew woke in his own with a gasp. God, he felt disgusting… but overjoyed! They won! They- wait…

“Chris?!” Andrew shouted as the fear that Chris didn’t make it out with him had settled in his chest. His… chest. Right, it had been a while since he tried to breathe regularly. He should try that again, maybe I’ll slow his heart rate down.

As he attempted to exhale, his right lung felt… numb? That was the best way he could explain it. It felt like it wasn’t there anymore, which couldn’t possibly be true.

“A-Andrew?!” Chris wheezed out, as though just learning how to breathe again. I was followed immediately afterwards by relentless coughing, to which Andrew himself began coughing and… ground water managed to escape him. How?! He hadn’t been in any in real life.

“Chris?! Wh-where are you, buddy?!” Andrew’s tone lightened tenfold as he unconsciously wiped up the water with some of the unused napkins from last night’s dinner on his desk. Wait… no, he didn’t do that… did he? Andrew usually just soaked up spilled liquid with a hoodie sleeve or something of the sort. Oh well, maybe he did do it. Best not to worry about that for now.

“Sorry for the m- wait… huh?!” Chris apologized.

“What?”

“Th-this… this desk, this room, this setup, everything…”

“Get to the point?”

“Andrew, I… think there might have been an error,” Chris spoke wearily, “and I do not know how to say this without it sounding really weird, but… I might be inside you.”

There was a pregnant pause between the two.

“A-as a passenger! Not… you know-” Chris stammered to elaborate on his statement, Andrew’s face turning red and hot due to Chris’s apparent partial control of his body as Andrew chuckled. ‘He's cute when he stutters.’

“Yeah yeah, I know… well, it’s nice to finally be face to face, technically.”

“You’re… okay with it?” Chris asked, tone soft and encompassing, like a warm blanket during winter. Soft, just like his tone years ago when he’d comforted Andrew over the phone. Soft like velvet, almost. God, he missed that sweet, raspy voice. Would it be selfish to admit that he dreamed of a day like this for years, where he could hear it in real life and keep him to himself?

“I can find a solution to-”

“No, don’t,” Andrew muttered.

“Hm?”

Fuck. Okay, how was he going to tell Chris that this was an even better option than meeting in person? That sounds… well, it’d be best to call it what it is, right? “Chris, I- uh- okay, this’ll sound gay but maybe I am gay, so… worth a shot.”

“Cool! Cool! Yeah that’s- that’s great, man!” Chris responded with what Andrew could only imagine was barely concealed glee. Okay, good, they’re in the same boat! Thank god. “That’s- that’s alright by me. Go on, then?”

Andrew opened his mouth to speak, but no sound left him. Pathetic. He groaned and grabbed at his hair with his hand, his left foot tapping against the carpeted floor of his room as if that would quell his increasing heartbeat or the butterflies that threatened to suffocate him from the inside out. “Chris, I- fuck. Goddamnit. Ugh... I'm- I'm sorry.”

“Hey,” Chris whispered shakily as he (or was it Andrew?) exhaled sharply.

Andrew had noticed something new about his friend’s (though the term didn’t seem fitting enough to describe how he felt about Chris anymore) voice, now that it had caught his attention; it sounded just slightly as if the sound of it were traveling through water. It reminded him of summer trips with his family long before he’d met Chris. It was nice to have a memory of water that wasn’t infested with fear of drowning. Or maybe he had always been afraid of it, and nostalgia had just saturated those memories again.

Or maybe—just maybe—his feelings for Chris overrode the fear response in the limbic system of his brain. Maybe he wasn't scared because it was Chris. That would make better sense, considering how said boy acted seconds after the unconscious thought had formed.

Chris raised a hand slowly and purposefully to caress Andrew’s face with their (assumed) shared arm, as if testing for his reaction. Chris would’ve then followed up that action by cradling the man’s face and telling him he’s okay now, just like he wished he could years before everything with the wells began, and even during the time in between then and now.

The computer screen had interrupted both of their thoughts. Minecraft had apparently crashed, and now someone had been throwing a tantrum. Files began opening, error sounds played at maximum volume, and text files containing highly personal information opened and closed.

“What the fuck?!” Andrew shouted. Chris panicked, and, for no apparent reason other than pure primal instinct to protect, yanked his hand away from Andrew’s face and punched a dent into the screen deep enough to break the computer internally.

“Fuck! Andrew, shit… Andrew I’m so sorry, I do not know why I-” Andrew felt his heartbeat racing once more, though he didn’t exactly feel scared. He was more relieved, if anything. ‘Must be Chris feeling it then, I’m guessing? If… that’s how this works.’

Andrew winced at the pain of the impact in their arm and held their hand carefully. “Y’know, not the smartest decision you’ve made,” Andrew began, his heart dropping and throat drying up on Chris’s behalf, “but good reaction speed. Is he dead? For good? And I’ll get a new computer. No worries, okay?”

Chris had gone silent for what felt like forever, the only evidence of him still living somewhere within Andrew’s mind being the trembling hand and whimpering. “Chris, bud? You alright?” Andrew asked as he flexed the knuckles on their shaking hand. He heard (and felt) Chris swallow back his nerves before speaking again.

“You- y-you’re- you’re not mad? I broke your computer, though-”

“And you saved me from being possessed by some angry ghost. Plus, I have you back, better than before- better than ever!”

Andrew forced himself to breathe, to remind Chris to calm down just how Chris would do for him in the past. Chris chuckled nervously, “good-that’s good- thank you for forgiving me, Andrew.”

Chris cleared his throat, “first of all, yes. Yes, I think he is gone for good. Hopefully he is at peace now... secondly, ‘better than ever’? Care to elaborate?”

Oh. The same frog that got stuck in his throat earlier had returned, as he stammered and tripped over his own words again. “You do not have to if you don’t want to-”

“No, just… give me a sec, okay?”

“Alright, take your time, I have nowhere else to be,” Chris hummed. It was that sort of hum that Andrew had known him to use when he realized something during a call. Maybe it was the fact that Chris already apparently knew his answer which quieted his racing thoughts enough for him to speak coherently, or maybe it was courage.

“I’ve- I’ve wanted you to be with me again for so long,” Andrew began, “this- this whole time, I wanted you back, just like old times. I sort of… only recently figured out that I- that I wanted you only recently. I- Chris, you’re everything I wish I was but couldn’t be. You’re a saint, and I’ve wanted to treat you like one. It’s what you deserve, for always being there for me when I needed it most, and…”

Chris inhaled sharply, as though bracing for impact. He and Andrew had both unconsciously intertwined their hands together, though neither seemed to notice it yet.

“Fuck it, you’ve just gotta rip the bandaid off sometimes,” Andrew muttered to no one, “I’m trying to say that I love you. I have since some time after we began playing Minecraft together, I think.”

Chris audibly gasped from within Andrew’s mind, as though nobody had ever spoken such utterly divine, warm words to him in his life. Something about the thought of Chris having never been told this truth tugged at Andrew’s heartstrings, threatening to snap them.

“I-I love you, too. More than you could possibly know,” Chris sighed warmly, voice dripping with such sincerity that Andrew had whined as Chris let go of his hand to move their shared one towards his face. Chris had felt his unkempt stubble on his chin, to which Andrew leaned into the touch like he had been starved of this—like he needed this much more than he wanted it.

Chris’s steady and focused breath was followed by his fingers tracing over corners of the other’s lips, but pulled were away hesitantly.

“Aw, come on!”

“Sorry, I- I wasn’t sure if… or how to- you know…- never mind. I-it is probably too soon to… um-”

Sometimes, Andrew surprised himself. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been so exhausted that he wasn’t quite thinking logically or coherently, but he found himself pulling their right hand back up to where it had been. The surprised ‘eep’ Chris made at the sudden action caused Andrew to smirk and breathe out a silent laugh.

“Like hell it’s ’too soon’, I’ve just been too big of a coward the whole time.”

“If anything, you’ve been far from a coward,” Chris uttered, as though simply stating fact, “I’ve watched you fight for your life, for our lives. Even though I’ve been dead months before you started recording your adventures, you still kept trying to find your way to me since you…”

Chris’s actions stopped dead in their tracks, and Andrew felt his right hand (which had been held against his lips) go ghostly cold, along with most of his body. “Let’s just… not talk about it, okay? I’d like to keep you here with me.”

“Right- yeah,” Chris halfheartedly chuckled, “you are right. I do mean what I said, Andrew.”

Andrew hummed, heart fluttering at each comment. God damnit, did the boy know the right words to say in any situation to make him feel loved. He allowed his hand to release the wrist of his right arm, and Chris’s next object of curiosity happened to be Andrew’s hair. Oh no.

“Ew…” Chris yanked his hand away, wiping it excessively on the boy’s pants, “your hair is disgusting.”

“Wow, what a way to kill the mood,” Andrew scoffed, though he knew Chris was right.

“You need a shower, or to at least wash your hair, if nothing else.”

“I- wait! The water-”

“Will not harm us anymore,” Chris interrupted.

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END