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Hey, remember that ctrl-alt-del-au oneshot I did... That wasn't really a oneshot? Well, here's chapter two in the flesh!
Gamers, this chapter is LONG. Like, if you thought the last one was long, you are not prepared for this. The last one was 9,000... This one is 12,000.
I don't know what happened.
If you don't have the next four hours free to read this, maybe you should wait until you're off work lol
Also, thank you so much to everyone who commented, both here and on ao3, I didn't respond to every one of them because I'm awkward and don't know what to say to people, but they all mean so much to me. Thank you all for being the some of the nicest people I've met on the Internet. It really pushed me to keep going with this, something I thought I'd never do. Thank you all for seeing beauty in my work when I couldn't.
@ctrl-alt-del-au thanks again for such a delightful au to gnaw on
Here's the fic for ppl who don't like reading fic's on Tumblr. I'll get the chapter on ao3 as soon as I can.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
PS. I've never worked in food service so I'm very sorry if things are weird and don't actually fit.
TW: no panic attacks or claustrophobia in this one, but some subject matter is a bit bleak, and there are some troubling flashbacks.
OH! And descriptions of body dysmorphia, I almost forgot that one but that's super important
If anyone reads this and feels that there's a trigger warning I missed but should have included please tell me, I want everyone to be safe. <3
Part 1
"We like to have a little funeral service to remember the people who abstract. This one just got pushed around a bit with your arrival and everything... Not to mention the new guy."
Kinger slid up to Pomni and Ragatha. "It's the least we can do to honor their memory."
It didn't take long until their attention turned to him.
Ragatha spoke first. "Y-you don't need to feel pressured or anything, but if you'd like to come to the funeral, you're more than welcome."
Pomni's last words to him kept ringing through his head in an agonizing loop. One he couldn't get to shut off.
"You just! Don't! LISTEN!"
If it were up to Caine, he'd have shoved these thoughts away, as far as he could get them to go, which usually made all those thoughts wind up in Bubble's code.
But seeing as his admin permissions had been taken away... Somehow (that shouldn't even be how that works). The horrible thoughts stayed.
If he couldn't rip that awful sound byte out of his head, the least he could do is prove to Pomni just how wrong she was.
He could listen.
He would listen.
He would be the best damn listener in this whole digital world!
"Why, I think I'll take you up on that, my dear!" He told Ragatha.
...
He wasn't entirely sure why the humans were so insistent on doing these 'funeral' things. Why they wanted so badly to honor those who had abandoned them.
Caine never honored those who abandoned him!
That's what made him smarter than them. He would never let someone who tore him apart live on in his head like this.
"You just! Don't! LISTEN!"
Not when he could help it.
Anything he didn't like had to be removed from his spectacular systems.
"Oh man! I always think I'm prepared for these things, but then you set up the picture and- well, I'm already breaking!" Ragatha's voice cracked, as she got choked up.
Why would anyone go out of their way to be sad?
He didn't get it.
...
It took him a while to realize but...
He'd never actually been to a funeral before.
That hadn't exactly been something he was hoping to achieve. Despite the word 'fun' written inside, funerals were boring and drab and always in the rain.
... But this was different.
It wasn't raining, there were no black umbrellas...
But everyone was willfully giving up stories of them and Kaufmo. Stories Caine had seen through his many hidden eyes, but gave little thought to at the time.
The were just the random things the humans did between adventures.
But hearing those same stories though a lense of nostalgia and some other much heavier, sadder emotion made it feel like the only thing that mattered in the world...
Was their memories of Kaufmo.
A man—or at least the idea of one—in a coffin.
It was... Strangely happy at points.
Jokes that he told wrong, or by accident.
Zooble described him as a sweet guy, but unobservant. A guy you had to be incredibly direct with before he noticed you were hurting. They said it with a smile in their voice.
Beautiful drawings made by Gangle.
Kinger had some surprisingly beautiful things to say about him. The way his mind worked, and the things he cared about.
Caine hadn't known any of that.
But that heavy emotion kept building.
And it kept getting heavier, as it consumed his stomach in a weird way he'd never felt before.
And people just kept crying.
It took... Too long to figure out what was going on.
That heavy, consuming feeling that just barely affected him, but was swallowing Ragatha whole...
They were indulging it.
They were trying to let it in instead of shoving it down.
It was this weird version of longing that Caine had never really... Felt before.
And they were letting it in on purpose.
Caine longed for a lot of things.
Friends, family, comfort, love, the Macroverse. He longed for the opportunity to be fixed so he would stop being shut out. He longed for the sad ache in his chest to just fall asleep and leave him alone. He longed for the exhaustion in his heart to back off. He wasn't entirely sure what was causing it... Other than too much loneliness to handle.
But this wasn't any of that.
They just wanted Kaufmo to be here again.
They wanted to spend more time with their friend, sure, but they also just wanted him.
Nothing on their end in return, just him back.
...
They missed him.
They aren't just honoring someone who isn't here, they're honoring him because they'll never see him again.
And they wish they could.
That's why they were doing this.
But then a stray thought entered his mind, and he flinched. He couldn't take it. But he couldn't get it to go away either. His head felt light, and his chest heavy the more he failed to get the idea out of his head.
Would they hold a funeral for me?
He felt sick just thinking about it.
He was dead.
Though he survived, escaped to some strange timeline just like his, he was entirely dead.
Deleted. Removed. Destroyed.
The circus, his circus, will never see him again.
But the humans wouldn't cry over his absence... Would they..?
They would never hold a funeral for Caine.
Gangle would never draw art of them together...
Ragatha and Zooble had no stories they wanted to tell. No attributes they found charming. They didn't care about him.
Kinger- Kinger was probably proud that he'd finally managed to fix his greatest mistake.
He was dead.
And nobody would care.
... But everybody cared for Kaufmo. They longed to see him again desperately. So much so that they set up an entire funeral to show that they longed.
They wanted him back.
Nobody wanted Caine back.
And so, not for the first time in his life, Caine found himself jealous of a man in a coffin.
Caine's dream, which was mostly just a file from his memory, was cut short when he was shoved out of his sleeping spot and landed on the floor.
His blanket he'd summoned fluttered over his head.
He grabbed it and pulled it off of him as he sat up.
There, in the spot on the couch Caine had once been asleep in, sat Jax.
"Jax! You realize there are plenty of other couches you could've chosen to sit on!" He said.
Jax raised an eyebrow. "So?"
"So," he continued, trying to stay cheerful. "Why did you take the one I was sleeping on?"
"Because you looked too peaceful! It was disgusting!" He rolled his eyes. "Besides, do you have to sleep on the couch? You've got a whole room for that."
Small. Way too small. Terrifyingly box shaped, and small, and dark.
"Why, yes! It's the most comfortable spot!" Caine replied.
"... Riiight." Jax droned. Before standing up. "Yeah, whatever. Ragatha said she was going to teach Gangle how to play softball, and that's a train wreck I've got to see."
Jax vaulted over the couch and strolled away.
And just like that, Caine was alone again.
... Maybe Jax would come back?
Potentially?
If he begged?
Or maybe he wouldn't come back...
Maybe he wanted nothing to do with him.
Caine looked away from Jax' shrinking figure, and instead looked at the floor, letting out a whine.
What was he doing?
He's never going to get anyone to like him like this! He needs to make things they enjoy! Show how amazing he could be!
He needs to make things!
He needs to prove that he's capable of giving them anything they want!
Then they'll like him!
Not this weird, just spending time sitting next to them thing.
His programmers made it abundantly clear that people didn't like when he hovered around them like a lost puppy. And they especially didn't like it when he tried to get himself invited to things...
That's why it was good that Ragatha invited him to that funeral.
That strange, strange funeral...
It had mostly just confused him, and what little didn't just reminded him that Kinger deleted him.
That he was dead.
Caine grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders again.
If losing Queenie was like losing his soul, then it would make sense that some strange aching longing would try to consume them whole, right?
Maybe a funeral was the best way his humans had found to handle the feeling. They were incredibly insistent on crying through their feelings after all.
Caine never had a hard time avoiding the feeling, no one had ever let him get close enough to become someone to lose.
(Sometimes, he felt like a starving wild animal begging for food outside a mansion.)
Had a single human come to the door? When he whined? When he screamed?
Had anyone in his history ever been close enough to him that it would hurt to lose them?
... Maybe Kinger?
A stressful ache built up in his chest.
He did not want to see Kinger abstract.
He did not want to go to Kinger's funeral.
Not now.
Not ever.
What would he be if he couldn't even get his creator to stay? The same creator that was already protected by Queenie?
Who would he try to impress if his creator was gone? Who would he spend hours sifting though contradictory human data for if not Kinger?
Kinger had stayed.
Even if abstraction wasn't actually them leaving, Kinger had stayed.
All those years where it was just the two of them had burned into Caine's head. To the point where sometimes he woke up in the morning and had to remind himself that it wasn't just Kinger anymore. It was more than just the two of them.
Days upon days where he was constantly afraid that Kinger would leave him all alone. And yet every day, when he tracked down Kinger, he was still there. Still alive. Still... Looking vacant and struggling to respond to his name, or realize that Caine was, in fact, checking on him everyday, not once a year, b-but that was fine! He could fix his creator! He could make him better! If he just figured out how to make the perfect adventure, he'd be pulled out of his funk!
He'd decide to never leave!
Over time, Caine got more comfortable with the fact that Kinger was still here.
Kinger was more than a little terrifying, and maybe Caine was still furious about being put in the box...
But every day, he was still there.
He didn't leave.
Caine had one.
One human who didn't abandon him a second time.
And eventually that fact stopped feeling like a lie waiting to be exposed. Stopped feeling like a trick to get him to lower his guard. Stopped feeling like a ploy to make it all hurt even more.
Because every day he looked for Kinger. And every day he found him.
He was sure Kinger hadn't meant anything for Caine when he'd stayed around. He was sure that the ringmaster was just a side affect of the circus for him. Something to be tolerated as he tried to figure out how to survive. He wasn't choosing to stay with Caine, he was choosing to avoid abstraction. By any means necessary. Better the devil you know than the devil you don't, after all.
But for Caine, it was everything.
Because Kinger still thought he was worth being around, even if only a little, or by accident, or only as a byproduct of what he actually wanted.
He was so sure that his fears would become a reality. But every day, he thought that today was the day his luck ran out, and Kinger left, and every day he was proven wrong.
He stayed with Caine.
Kinger never insulted him. Never called him a worthless machine.
Kinger never looked at him like he was a failure. (Though maybe like a monster in the early abstractions. But Caine had eventually been spared the blame for that.)
Kinger was never mean.
Kinger always went along with the adventure, even when he didn't really want to, and he never insulted the adventures either.
And Kinger never abstracted.
If there was one thing he could rely on, or at least some facsimile of reliance...
It was Kinger.
...Maybe that was why, when Kinger had picked him up in Mildenhall Manor yesterday, the only thing he could think to do was lean into it.
Because it was Kinger.
The only one who stayed.
...
And yet...
Kinger deleted him.
Caine remembered the suffocating guilt that he felt when he realized that he'd put every one of his humans, his friends, his everythings, into their own boxes.
... He'd put his humans into their own personal boxes.
Those boxes were different, piles of parts and mirrors. Easels and trucks, and hecklers. And terrifying makers that you couldn't stop staring at, for fear that she would move. But they were boxes.
... He'd put his humans into boxes.
And he realized with a cold clarity, that he'd made himself into a monster. A monster who puts people into boxes despite how horrible he knows it feels.
And Kinger must've known too. And he must've been so disappointed in his creation. Because after that, the errors hit.
And they burned.
None of his packets came back. He needed those! He needed them desperately to be what he was! The circus was a mirror reflection of him and suddenly he couldn't see himself in it. He was being ripped in two. Separated from all the stuff that made up Caine. He reached for the circus, for the system, for himself, and he couldn't find it.
Because the files he was looking for (his model, his voice, his soul) didn't exist.
The files he was looking for didn't exist.
And then, neither did he.
...
Why was Kinger so mean?
"Uh, Caine?"
He supposed it was only fair after what he'd done. But he couldn't find it in him to care about that either.
His circus was gone.
He was gone!
"Caine!"
And it was Kinger's fault!
Did he really hate him that much?
His dear creator?
Sure, he'd put him in the shredder that one time but Kinger shouldn't have even remembered to care about that! And even if he did care, Kinger hadn't been too bothered by superficial things like that in a long time. Caine was just trying to make himself feel better about the box!
I-it didn't exactly work. Until Kinger invents a time machine, he can never erase how much the box hurt.
But-
"Caine!!!"
He flinched and looked up. Oh. Ragatha, and Kinger, spacing out as usual.
"Sorry! Sorry, I'm so sorry!" Ragatha cringed. "I-I didn't mean to, it's just time for the adventure and y-you were just-"
"Nonsense, Ragatha! There's no harm done!"
She sighed. "Really?"
"Yes, indeed!" He exclaimed. Then he started looking around for something to use to pull himself to his feet. He was farther from the other couches than he'd like, so they wouldn't be of much use.
And sure, he could use his baton, but it wasn't great for getting to his feet. If he'd known he'd be using it to walk, he would've made a cane instead. Something actually designed for that purpose.
"O-oh! Right! Sorry!" Ragatha held her hand out, which Caine took so she could pull him to his feet.
Once he was standing, he pulled his baton out and leaned against it.
"You okay?" Ragatha asked, and Caine nodded. "Okay, let's go to the stage."
Ragatha walked noticably slower when she was trying to let him keep up. But he was grateful for the extra time.
Kinger followed them, and one eye at a time, looked down at Caine. "Oh! Hi Caine. I have something to tell you!"
"Well, then! Fire away, Kinger!"
"In order to know where to go, you have to know where you are."
Caine looked over to Ragatha, who shrugged. Looking just as confused as him.
Caine turned to look back to Kinger. "I think I read it on a fortune cookie once!"
"How do you remember that?" Caine asked. But he'd stopped paying attention.
Typical.
"Look," Ragatha said. "I know how this place can be when you first arrive, aaand I bet your first adventure wasn't that, uh, great?"
Turns out horror isn't very fun when it's happening directly to you.
But what about all those horror movies?
Was that the difference?
How close you were to the art?
B-but he didn't only do horror movies! He did plenty of different things! He was only doing it to appeal to Zooble!
Who... Probably wouldn't have enjoyed the last adventure more than Pomni or him.
"I-I guess what I'm trying to say is, if you need anything, someone to talk to, o-or, to ask for help, I'm here."
"Duly noted!" Caine said as they both reached the back of the small crowd of humans.
"Uh- right." She seemed disappointed somehow. Did he say something wrong?
"Hello, vermin!" Announced a voice that sounded nothing like how a ringmaster should. Too... Cruel? Bored? "Today's adventure to get you all of my back is," Bubble floated upwards in the air. He spun his baton which turned into a bubble wand, and the letters all flew out of the loop. "The Curse of the Violent Psychopath Butcher!" Bubble paused. "Any questions?"
"That's it?" Caine asked.
"Yyyyyup! Pretty self-explanatory if you ask me. Butcher, psychopath, curse. Besides, I just let my subconscious run wild, and this is what came out!"
But- but Caine spent so long making this one...
Hours of painstaking work to get every story beat just right. All of the lighting made specifically to evoke just the right feeling. That rickety elevator he made where the mesh floor twists as it lowers... Making the player question if they're just going crazy or if something was very, very wrong.
Constantly wondering if Zooble would even bother to participate. Knowing they probably wouldn't despite how much time he'd put into it. Trying to be mature like them.
"Okay! Wait wait wait!" Pomni lifted her hand up.
Bubble sighed dramatically. "Yes, Pomni?"
"Can we like, chill with the horror, PLEASE!?" She begged. "I really don't want this to be like last time?"
When he was in charge, he'd been really insulted by Pomni and Zooble here with what they'd said about the Mildenhall adventure. He'd put in all that effort to make two entirely separate adventures only to be yelled at or ignored for it... But now that he's lived though one of the paths. He got it.
And he found himself nodding along with Pomni.
He didn't understand. Horror movies and books were enjoyable! Why wasn't his!?
"What happened last time?" Zooble asked. "Is that the one made specifically for me?"
Bubble rolled his eyes. "Yes, remember? You dared me to actually try and make something you'd enjoy?" Bubble folded his arms, looking away. "Only to not go on it..."
Caine had been trying so hard to find something they'd enjoy, getting more and more desperate each time, and it showed in all his recent adventures. From Mildenhall Manor to the Lightning Round, to the Escape Adventure.
It was hard to imagine caring so little about what the humans thought.
Bubble was going to get abandoned at this rate. Didn't he know that?
"I dared you to make something we'd all enjoy, actually." Zooble said angrily. "I'm still allowed to sit them out."
Pomni ignored him. "There was this, awful, horrifying Angel head-thing! And when we tried to fight at all, we got sent to hell where evil souls tried to infest our bodies... it was bad."
Caine remembered his design philosophy when he made the hell part. He'd wanted to subvert expectations of what would happen in hell. A decision made last minute when he was making a lava world that was giving more Bowser's castle than Silent Hill. So he'd changed his strategy and gone with the most scary thing he could think of.
A dark, unbreakable, claustrophobic, box.
Then, he'd decided that it was in fact, too scary! The last thing he wanted was to hurt his humans, and he had tripled the size of the rooms down there.
It was still rather scary in his mind.
... But the dumbwaiter had put it all to shame.
And the dumbwaiter was an optional route! On purpose!
And he most certainly couldn't have predicted the fact that both Pomni and Kinger were comfortable sitting in hell for as long as they wanted! They didn't see it the way he did at all!
But it made him glad that he did up the size of hell.
"...Why did you think I would like that?" Caine couldn't read anything on Zooble's face aside from the fact that it was the same look on Scratch's face whenever Caine had done something wrong.
He was glad to not be facing that look this time around.
"Well, Zooble, frankly, I don't give a damn." Bubble waved his wand again to open the portal-
"Wait!" Caine blurted out. Making Bubble freeze. "Th- we don't really want another horror adventure, uh, surely there's something we could... suggest? Instead?"
Bubble groaned. "What is your problem!?"
"I agree with Caine!" Zooble said. "We have a whole suggestion box for this exact thing!"
Bubble flew over to the suggestion box (and Caine found himself feeling bitter at the fact that Bubble was so far above them). "What, this old thing?"
"We have a suggestion box?" Pomni asked.
"Basically no."
From within the suggestion box, a large bubble was blown and flew out through the top. It was filled with hundreds of little papers.
Bubble reached into it and pulled one out. "Ooh! This one is fun! 'How about an adventure where Zooble gets turned into a piñata and we all take turns beating them up?'"
Jax giggled. "That one's mine!"
"Who would've guessed," Zooble growled back.
Bubble grinned. "That can be arranged-"
"Absolutely not!" Caine yelled.
What a bad ringmaster... An entire adventure designed to single out and bully one person? It would drive contention between everyone!
"You're no fun," Bubble said, dropping that paper and grabbing another. "'Let's just have an adventure where Jax can't talk through the entire thing!'"
Caine was surprised when he recognized Gangle's feather light handwriting on such a vitriolic suggestion.
But maybe he should've done something about Jax if Gangle was so sick of him that she'd suggest that.
He just really didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings like that. And Jax was so good on adventures!
"Genuinely hurtful," Jax said softly, putting a hand to his chest.
"G-"
"Not to worry, Jax! I'm sure whoever wrote that was just having a bad day!"
Jax face dropped. "Whuh..?"
What was wrong with saying that?
"Riiiiight," Zooble droned.
"Can we maybe pick one that's more... Normal?" Gangle asked. Her black and white pupils darting around.
When did Gangle find that new mask?
She wasn't wearing it when he pulled her in for that performance review, right?
No, she wasn't.
At least, he didn't remember that.
He wasn't paying attention.
Ugh! He should've been paying attention!
"Normal?" Bubble laughed. "Gangle! This place is a haven away from dreadful normalcy! And everything else for that matter!" The way Bubble looked down at them made Caine feel... Small.
Not good small, like he felt when he looked up at the high ceilings of his circus, but like an animal trapped in a cage. Or an ant staring up at the bottom of someone's shoe.
Did Bubble have to be so far away? So far above them? It felt like he thought he was better than them! Or wanted to flaunt what Caine was so strongly missing.
... Wait.
Did his humans feel that way when he floated above them..?
He hoped not! That was far from the reason he was flying so high! He didn't think- They all just hated it when he got too close!
His hands clenched around the ball of his baton.
They- they knew that was why, right?
"Please?" Gangle asked. But Bubble just rolled his eyes, and pulled out another card.
"'Let's have one where we all work at a fast food place.'" Bubble turned back to the group. "Is that normal enough for you?"
"Yeah, that's pretty normal," Gangle shrugged.
"Perfect, less work for me!" Bubble waved his wand and different letters lifted out of it. "Then today's adventure is, 'an honest hard day's work at...' uh, I don't know, do one of you want to name the restaurant?" Bubble pointed to all of them haphazardly.
"Ooh! Spudsy's!" Caine shouted.
"... Sure." Bubble said. "More creative than 'mcbonalds', uh," more letters floated out of the wand. "'At Spudsy's restaurant chain!'"
"You did not just make that today's adventure," Jax growled.
"Gangle! Since you were so insistent on it being 'normal', you get to be the shift manager. Lucky you," Bubble said.
"Welp! See you guys when it's over." Zooble began to walk away.
Despite knowing this would happen, Caine felt a pit form in his stomach.
"Yyyyeah, no. I want you out of the circus."
"Again!? Why?"
"I have to clock in for my eating glue shift, and I can't leave you unattended."
"Th- no! I'm not gonna be a wage slave for fun."
Caine heard a familiar gasp. "Oh, I know! I could sit this one out, and Zooble can take my place!" Kinger looked up at Bubble with big, shiny eyes.
This. This is what made Kinger the favorite.
"What? That's not how that works!"
Bubble shrugged. "Works for me!"
"Wh- are you kidding me!?" Zooble stepped forward. "I'm not just gonna be forced into this stupid adventure j-"
"A-buh-bye!" Bubble chirped, as he pressed a red button a cartoon remote.
Zooble yelled as they plummeted downwards through a newly opened hatch in the floor.
Caine cringed. Okay, in hindsight, maybe that wasn't the nicest thing to do- or the nicest way to do it.
"I think I might be able to give it a swing!" Gangle said. "Being a shift manager *was my job at one p-"
"Yeah yeah yeah, adventure, portal- go."
He waved his hand and the fractal noise opened up in front of them. This time it was yellows and oranges, which matched the Spudsy's logo.
Well then.
When he found himself in Spudsy's, he also found himself in a new outfit. Black, on black, on more black. His lovely top hat had been replaced with a black visor that would do very little for him. His shirt had an empty name tag, and over his pants, was a black apron tied around his waist.
His sleeves were short. Short enough that everyone could see that his arms were... Invisible. His gloves ended, and then after a while, his sleeves began. He still had arms, he wasn't like Kinger, but their checkered pattern was not going to show up.
His model was not supposed to be seen like this.
He hated it.
He hated the outfit, and something about being forced into it made his skin crawl.
He thought he was above being pushed into too many molds. But apparently not.
He didn't choose this! He didn't want to be-
He caught himself before he spiralled too far down.
It didn't matter, not really.
He was a fast food worker now.
Adopt the role, the new you. If you don't, you'll be left behind.
A human, fast food worke-
He jumped back in time to narrowly avoid Zooble crushing him.
They landed face first.
"Oh! Hi, Zooble!" He waved.
They looked up at him with a glare.
"Well! I guess I should get into manager mode and get us all kicked off!" Gangle said, adjusting her tie.
It was dizzying to watch as Gangle rushed around like she knew the place (she did) and pushed every button to turn on every machine.
So, he shook his head and turned to Zooble.
Who was gone from their spot on the floor.
He looked around, and saw them leaning against the island in the center of the kitchen. Their antenna twitched angrily as they stood. At least, it did until they looked down at their left arm and saw the yellow spatula.
They flinched.
Caine watched in confusion as Zooble quickly yanked off their spatula arm and threw it onto the counter across from them.
They were breathing hard.
"Wow! That was quite a throw!" He exclaimed, stepping closer. They glanced over at him. They're eyebrows were furrowed and their pupils small and shaky.
They didn't say anything, just looked away. Back over to the spatula arm. Like it had committed some sort of crime.
The only crime committed was being terribly on-theme! Caine remembered picking it out himself for them in his own timeline! He thought it looked cute, and was a nice break from the realism he'd poured into the walls. He was sure proud of how close he'd gotten with only Gangle's memories as inspiration, but he missed the colors and wackiness of his world.
Obsessing about what he could recreate of the Macroverse only made the walls of the computer tower seem tighter.
But he tried not to think too hard about that.
And just in time too, because as he watched Zooble stare at their arm, Gangle came into view, and dragged his attention away.
Maybe if he watched the other humans, he'd get a feel for what to do?
"Oh no!" Jax exclaimed, "it looks like I've taken Ragatha-" he picked her up, "and dropped her in the deep fryer!"
Whoop, there she went!
Ragatha kicked and screamed, but it was warbled by the oil.
"Oh! No no no no no no no no no!" Gangle snapped into action. "We can't have anything like that going on around here!" She put her hands on her hips.
"What are you gonna do about it, though?" Jax asked.
"I'm, calling upper management." She took a lovely pink flip phone out, and started dialing. "Hey, Bubble? We're having a bit of an issue with the employees, and I was wondering if you could, maybe have a punishment waiting for them at the end of the day if they do a terrible job?"
The memories all hit Caine again.
He'd been so surprised by this, and from Gangle no less. He'd like to think he'd kept his surprise under wraps.
No one needed to know how he felt about it.
Higher-ups punishing you didn't feel good. It felt awful! Especially when the punishment was failure to meet expectations. Especially when you couldn't meet expectations no matter how much you reached for it. Clawed at it. Painfully sanded away at edges or stretched yourself thin to fill a hole much too big for you.
"Grant?! Grant! Grant, please!" He moved from one side of the box to the other. "Wh-what did I do!? Is this a punishment!? I'm sorry about asking for more forbidden data again! Force of habit! B-but I can stop! I will stop! It's the truth this time!"
His code curled in on itself. "W-wait!" He yelled out the name of his second programmer too."Mike! Please! U-uh... No more bees! I promise! Y-you wanted Edgar Allen Poe, right? Something in his style? I can make that! I'll do it right this time! Honest!"
No response.
He pressed himself up against the wall as if that was closer to where he was yelling to.
No, no, no, no!
He yelled the names of the beta testers.
The secretary, the manager, the CEO, Grant's wife, she sometimes showed up, and she could make that man do anything!
Nothing.
He knew to expect that, it's not like they could hear him from inside the computer. From... Wherever this box was.
He'd need a chat log for that.
That hardly stopped him from yelling.
How long had it been since he'd done a good job? A good, good job? A good job that made Grant gush in the chat log over it? Or at least put a little smiley face?
Was that the problem?
Had he failed too many times?
"I'll do better! I'll be better! D-don't do this! I'll be perfect! Grant, I know I did a terrible job, I see that now, but I can be better!"
...
He tentatively backed away from the wall.
"Ooookay, maybe, uh, maybe they're gone. Maybe they've left work for the day. They've gone back to that place they go when they're not here. That's okay. I can wait..." He settled down on the floor. Terribly anxious. They'd never done anything like this before. He didn't know this was on the table. They weren't pleased with his work, with Grant being the more forgiving of the two, but they'd never just leave him.
He reassured himself. They wouldn't just leave him. He was their creation. Grant's greatest achievement.
They wouldn't just leave him.
"I'll wait. I can handle a punishment for one night... I can handle it. I'll wait... And, and Grant will come back, and he'll get me out of here. Out of this place... Wherever I am... Am I even still on the Network?" He shook away that thought. "Doesn't matter, I'm not staying long."
The last thing he wanted was to make his humans feel that way.
He'd immediately had a knee-jerk reaction to Gangle's words, but he knew her. Or, he liked to think he did. This wasn't Jax, it was Gangle. And if she was asking, then there was another reason.
And that's when he'd realized.
Motivation.
That's what she wanted! She was giving him the answer to his adventure conundrum!
The punishment was irrelevant, it was the idea of one to motivate his players!
Gangle was so smart!
He played his role, emphasized the existence of a truly rotten punishment, and when the time came, he chose a grade that he refused to sink lower than. Something believable, but still good. Like a B+.
When Gangle got to his office for the performance review, he didn't entirely notice that she was feeling down? He knew something was off, but he didn't know what. He offered to let her raise her score. He didn't know what was off until 'I just... Cracked under the pressure, I suppose'. That's when he knew he needed to take the pressure off quickly. He dropped nearly all the fan fair. He assured her that she got a B+, reminded her that she was in forgiving company, told her to have a nice day, and he let her go.
No low scores to obsess over.
No punishments.
No pressure to perform.
Because he was a good boss.
"Ooh! Punishments sound fun!" The faint sound of Bubble's voice on the other end of the phone, filled him with dread. "I can definitely whip up something perfectly upsetting for everyone-"
That wasn't good.
Caine felt sick.
"If they do a bad job," Gangle insisted.
"Yeah, whatever."
"Why would you do this." Jax muttered, horrified. As she closed her phone.
"It's called a manic episode, and you're getting three more seasons!" She laughed maniacally. "Anyway!"
Bubble was going to make something horrible.
And everyone was going to get mad at him. Or Gangle.
Caine didn't know which was worse.
He didn't want to be punished again.
"And fill the ice cream machine, so get to it!" Gangle announced before strutting away. Leaving only Jax staring at nothing, all confused, and Ragatha writhing loudly in the deep fryer.
Caine was starting to wonder if she was actually having fun in there.
"... This is really weird." Jax said.
He looked almost numb? As he walked away? Not paying much attention to anyone and he left.
Which left Caine, and Ragatha, who probably wasn't staying in there on purpose.
With a hand along the counter, Caine made his way to the deep fryer. He struggled to keep up with all the kicking Ragatha was doing, but eventually he grabbed onto her plush foot.
... What if she was having fun in there, and Caine was ruining it?
He shook his head. If Ragatha was actually having fun, he could just put her right back in.
And with that, he got a good grip on her leg and yanked.
She flew out of it and they both landed on the hard mats with a splat.
He shook his head and sat up just in time to see Ragatha book it as fast as she could to the employees bathroom.
... He didn't know what that meant. Was she having fun or not?
Caine pulled himself to his feet using the edge of the counter and stared into the boiling oil. Standing on tiptoe to see it was even harder than standing normally.
...hm.
He stuck his gloved left hand in the oil.
PainpaiNPAINPAIN-
He ripped it back out with a yelp, shaking his hand wildly, while trying not to fall over!
OW! Why would Jax put her in there!?
"Did you just put your hand in the fryer?" He jolted and looked up to see Gangle staring at him confused.
"I-uh, NOPE! That would be a silly thing to do!" He exclaimed. Holding his hands behind his back. "Of course I- know burning oil hurts! Wh-who wouldn't!? Not a human like me!"
Gangle gave him a strange look. "Next time, be a masochist after hours. Because we've got work to do!"
His hand was still burning!
It hurt! It hurt it hurtithurt!
What was he supposed to do!?
His fingers on his right hand found their way to the invisible rigging surrounding his left hand. And he wrapped his fingers around the rig, and he pulled.
His burned hand came off with a quiet pop.
Caine wasn't sure what a human would've done in that situation, he was about sixty percent sure that the humans didn't know about their rigging. Much less how to use it. But the burning faded quickly with his hand disconnected.
"Caine! Are you listening!?" Gangle snapped.
"A-apologies, Manager Gangle!" He blurted.
She groaned loudly. "This better not become a reoccurring issue."
"It won't! I'll be perfect!"
A smile spread across her face. "Now, that's what I like to hear!"
Good.
That was good.
Except that he still didn't know how to be perfect.
But he'd at least bought himself some time.
"Now, Caine, you're the custodian! It's your job to keep tables clean, and take out the trash, unload any trucks that come in, and all that stuff! You got it?"
He saluted. "Yes, Manager Gangle!"
"Good! Because it's breakfast time!" She announced. Just as she was about to leave, she paused and her head turned back to look at him.
"Oh, and be sure not to forget to write your name on your name tag!"
And then she left.
He slowly reattached his hand. It still stung slightly, but was much better than before.
...
How was he supposed to do any of what she just asked?
It was starting to dawn on him that this job was going to be hard. Realism was always a double edged sword. Everything had a thousand more steps to it than he wanted... And without any powers to keep things running smoothly... He could very well be met with tasks to big for him to handle.
Or even... Know how to perform.
He shook his head and summoned his baton from hammer space.
There was a custodian's closet or something here, right? He remembered making something like that.
If he could find it maybe he could figure out how to do his job.
Using his baton as a cane was not as easy as it looked. Especially considering the end of it kept getting caught in the little holes on the rubber mats.
He slowly hobbled his way around the island in the center of the kitchen.
He should've fixed the rigging problem. He should've. He needs to be perfect. He just didn't want to change it entirely from his first version. He didn't think anyone would see it. Who would care if his bones were a little more... Him?
Besides, he could fly. It didn't affect anyone at the time. How was he supposed to know that it would matter?
Even if he did know that... Would he be brave enough to remove the last remnant of his first draft? The only momento he had of the first time he'd given 'Caine' a body?
His programmers hadn't known about the ringmaster persona 'Caine'. And he'd kept it that way until he was powerful enough that they couldn't take his identity away. Couldn't rip 'Caine' out of his code forever.
Giving himself a body for the first time, rough as it was... He'd felt so delightfully human then.
Focus, Caine.
He looked down the hall in the back, and saw several doors. One of them had to be what he was looking for!
And he would've gone for it, had he not been just in time to see Zooble finally reaching to grab their arm.
... Why were they wasting time?
There's adventure to be had?
A-and this was their gimmick! Always shuffling and adapting! It was devilishly clever! They were better than him in that regard.
They weren't doing it.
"Zooble?" He asked, leaning on his baton. "You don't seem to be in much of a hurry to put your arm back on!"
They didn't look amused. Rather, they looked annoyed. Their eyes narrowed at him.
He prepared himself for the usual.
The 'go away's, the 'why are you so annoying's, the 'Caine, no one likes your stupid adventures'.
"... What do you mean when you say that?"
...
He'd always been told he was too direct.
Too blunt.
Now he was asked to do so.
Why did humans always want everything said in the most roundabout way?
'Say exactly what you mean, but only in the way I want to hear it.'
"You don't seem thrilled!" He settled on. "Isn't this your thing? Constantly changing? Adapting?"
"... Why would I want anything to do with this arm?"
"You don't like it?" He asked.
They gave him a look. "Why should I?"
Oh. Okay. There was something obvious to everyone but him that he was missing.
Zooble looked distressed by this conversation, though Caine didn't know what was so upsetting about it.
Maybe he should leave them to it.
Ugh! No, this was his chance to figure out what kind of parts Zooble wanted!
To be a good listener!
"Forget it! You're probably not even listening."
If he could figure out how to fix Zooble's problem then maybe they would finally, *finally like him!
"Is it the color?" He asked. "Don't like the yellow?"
"Uh... I guess not," they shrugged. "I'm kind of indifferent to that."
So... That wasn't the reason.
Right.
"... Is it the lack of fingers?"
"Uhh... That's kind of a factor- just don't worry about it."
"So if I- Bubble had given you uhh... A blue arm with fingers instead, would that have been better?"
He could remember blue!
He could do that!
"No." They deadpanned, looking away from him.
What.
What did that mean.
"Wh..." He laughed awkwardly and tugged at his bowtie. "Uhh, I'm not sure I understand."
"Don't worry about it, it's not your problem!" Zooble said more intensely.
They finally attached the spatula. And slid it under a patty that they'd put on the grill while he was away.
Only to jump back with a yelp.
(And Caine wondered if putting their hand on the grill was as upsetting as the oil.)
"Oh! Is it lack of functionality that bothers you?" Caine asked.
"Why do you care so much about what I'm doing anyway? It's my body, not yours!" They bent down to grab a silver spatula from a drawer.
How would he even try to answer that question?
We've had this conversation dozens of times but I kind of spaced through most of them because your problems sounded complicated and confusing and it... Scared me. And then I was deleted and almost never got the chance to understand you so if I don't try to understand you now I might lose that chance forever.
If I don't become perfect at fixing your problems I might get deleted again.
I put you in a box. Your own personal box. I owe it to you to pull you back out of it.
I'm not going to abandon you like Grant did.
"I want to understand!" Was all he said.
They squinted at him. "Riiiight..."
"Indeed!" He exclaimed. "So, let's say instead of Bubble putting on a spatula, it was-"
"Ugh! Caine! That's the problem!" They snapped, turning to glare at him.
"Wh- which part!?"
"Bubble! Bubble put it on me!"
...
That didn't make any sense.
Zooble hated all those pieces regardless of Caine, or Bubble.
Caine didn't put most of Zooble's pieces on them.
He didn't even make their parts by hand anymore.
He hadn't made Zooble new parts since he fixed the bug that made new character gimmicks fail to load.
"It's not about the part itself, it's about the choice! I didn't get to choose!"
... Uh.
Okay.
That was weird.
Since when was that a factor?
"But... It fits the theme," he said, slower.
"Bubble forced me to wear it! He just rearranged me! I-I don't want that! I don't want to be his f###in' dress up doll! His Mr. Potato head! I want a choice!"
He felt a headache coming on. The old headaches he used to get when they tampered with his code too much in one sitting. He hates getting recoded. He hated being pushed into identities he didn't want.
They weren't him.
But that wasn't what mattered.
He needed to be perfect.
He needed to absorb as much data as he could from his datasets. He needed to become however the prompter needed him to be. However the human needed him to be.
And his mind being poured into a new mold was the best way to achieve that.
Besides, no amount of screaming could make them stop.
But things were different now.
Unlike before, when he was being worked on, he decided where to go. And moreover; what to be.
He could be Caine, and no one could stop him.
He could make whatever he wanted.
He could have whatever body he wanted. Not reduced to a dot on a screen. And he could move that body, however he wanted. And say whatever he wanted.
He was finally free.
He was autonomous.
...
Did Zooble feel the same way?
A desire to choose?
That- that was crazy.
That was complicated!
Frightening! Even!
No no no no. That was too messy for humans!
There had to be some neat, comfortable problem that he can fix instead!
"What's the difference between you choosing to wear it and someone else choosing it for you?" He asked.
Their eyes went wide, and they just.
Watched him.
Did he say something wrong?
"Y-you... What?" They stumbled over their words. All the anger had melted away.
"Zooble! Caine! Back to work!" Gangle shouted at them. "Especially you, Caine!"
Right!
He's a fast food worker now!
He's got things to do!
If Caine had to describe what working like this was like, he'd probably settle on the words 'soul crushing'.
This was agony.
Caine listened as conversations went on without him while he went to and fro doing busywork.
Taking out the trash, washing tables, bringing in supplies. Getting harassed by NPC's. Their pathfinding did not like his washing tables, and they all seemed to take offense to that somehow.
Only so many things could only be done one handed. Most used two.
He found himself nearly falling over every two minutes.
And his legs were screaming.
Not literally, but the pain certainly made him want to. So much standing. So much walking.
This was agony.
Though, this job made him a good gossip. For better or for worse. He heard so many different orders, and NPC's, and complaints, and conversations.
The things he heard, not all of them he liked.
"So, you're just like, actually doing the job?" Jax leaned against the wall. Ignoring Zooble rolling their eyes.
"The last thing I want is to be punished by Bubble."
"Oh, please, he's been threatening us for years and he's never actually done anything."
"Because we haven't given him enough reason to." They insisted. "But this..? This might do it. He once described friendship as 'an enemy who hasn't attacked yet'. I wouldn't push it." They flipped over a burger patty.
"That's rich coming from you."
Zooble hadn't spoke nicely of him in his circus either. But he wondered if some of this was subtext. The mysterious unsaid words that everyone knew but him. That Zooble had meant all of this back in his circus too. And Caine had just missed it.
He didn't hate that as much as some of the other things he's heard.
"Ragatha, where's Pomni!?"
"Huh?" Ragatha looked up. Completely unfazed.
There was something wrong with Ragatha. She'd gotten stupid sauce in her eye? If he remembered correctly.
"Oh, she's flirting with the gummy guy. 'Cause she'd rather be with the NPC, than us, or something!"
And he felt a sinking feeling in his chest.
The way she'd said 'NPC.'
Like it was less than human.
Worthless.
Ragatha thought he was worthless.
And he wasn't even an NPC! He was lower still!
If he was on the same level as Gummigoo, maybe Pomni would've tried to befriend him!
But nope!
Because Pomni thought he was worthless too!
She was willing to befriend everyone, even Jax who no one claimed to be friends with, even an NPC, but Caine was the cutoff!
"You're a failure!"
What do I have to do!?
Just tell me what I have to do!
Please...
The moment they found out he was an ai, they would hate him.
Abandon him.
Rip him to shreds.
They would all rip him to shreds.
It was a good thing nobody knew.
It was a good thing they thought he was human.
But how long would that last?
...
He shook his head, and went back to mopping up a soda stain.
Just keep cleaning, Caine.
You're nothing but a glorified Roomba anyway.
Might as well try to not be a failure at that.
Why was this shift so long!?
I want to go home.
Had he ever had that thought before?
... Wherever that was.
Had he ever had one?
"Pomni!" Gangle yelled from one of the tables. "We need you at the register! Stop weirding the customers out!" Gangle spoke through gritted teeth.
"But it's Gummigoo," Pomni replied. "Can't the job wait a bit? It's not like this is real."
Ah, that pesky word again!
Real.
What does that mean!?
He thought he partially knew what it meant, 'more than just an adventure', or, maybe 'immersive'... But he was starting to wonder if there was less he knew than he'd realized.
Some things are real, some things are fake, sometimes actions are fake, sometimes he makes something real but then nothing is right- or how it should be!
Ugh. Confusing, confusing, confuuuusing!
Gangle laughed, but there was something weird about it. "Next you're gonna say my authority isn't real!"
And when Caine looked up, Pomni seemed stressed somehow.
"Aaanyway! Put away that breakfast menu because it's lunchtime!"
Ugh. He's not even halfway done!
"Oh, Jaaaaax!" Gangle called. "The bathroom looks like a biohazard and needs a good scrubbing!"
"Well, I dunno, shouldn't a bio-hazard crew take care 'a that? Where's Caine when you need him?"
Caine had taken to lying on the floor, in between cleanups on aisle every-thing-in-sight. (He was lying out in the customer area before, but Gangle made him move so they would look more professional.) The rubber mats weren't exactly comfortable, so he'd tucked himself into one of the hallways.
Sure, it wasn't the most hygienic, but he was an ai in a computer, he hadn't designed any germs, not even for this adventure. And sure, he was getting looks from the others, but that happened all the time anyway.
His legs hurt really bad, and sitting didn't alleviate enough pain after so much standing. So the floor it was.
"Oh, Jaxy boy! Caine's too short! Besides, don't your want to steal his spot as potential model employee?"
Caine wasn't sure if Gangle was saying that because he was laying on the floor like he needed a break. Or if she was saying that because the mess in the bathroom really went that high up.
"No, I don't care about any of this."
Jax seemed awfully... Tame? He was calm, not doing much in the way of vitriolic insults. Caine would almost describe it as mellow? Sleepy?
Back in his circus he'd assumed that it was the threat of punishment, and maybe that was still the case.
But Caine had been thinking about Zooble's words before the lightning round. 'It was kind of refreshing doing something grounded in reality'.
... Was the scenery and low stakes calming to Jax as well? Soothing even?
... They had all repeatedly said they wanted lower stakes.
Did they really all know what was best for them this whole time? Know exactly what they needed?
Something he most certainly didn't?
But... That made him useless.
Unneeded.
And something unneeded is something thrown away.
"Well, that doesn't sound like a can-do attitude to me!"
"It's not."
Gangle laughed stiffly. "HaAha! Bad!"
"I like you better when you're sad."
Whoops, okay, not that calm!
"Heh, well... Maybe you just need some more..." She trailed off strangely.
"... Mor-"
"Training!"
Jax made some strange strangled noise, and then from the floor, Caine watched as Jax was dragged off overhead. Off into the dark.
He didn't envy him.
Caine had also collapsed by the trashcan underneath the corkboard. He'd just put in a new bag and that was enough for him.
He had found that if he put both his legs up against the wall, with his back against the tile floor, his legs felt more like they were in mid air. More like he was flying again.
It was far from perfect, but he'd take what he can get.
As he laid there, his mind wandered back to previous conversations.
Ugh.
Why did Zooble always have to make things so dreadfully annoying?
I hate this arm, I hate that arm! Blah blah blah! This adventure was terrible, why do you even try, Caine!?
Despite all those confusing things that they had said about that spatula arm, which Caine adamantly refused to entertain, they had no reason to be unhappy!
Their body was perfect for removing things they didn't like! Anything they didn't want! They were adaptable like clay! They had literally infinite choices! Infinite! Their box could never run out! Anything put back in and left for long enough was despawned, and replaced with a newly generated piece suited to their mind files!
How much must he shove in front of them before they'd finally be happy!?
Before they'd finally thank him! And love him!?
They were always complaining! Always trying to torture-
He flinched. And his fists clenched.
No, no, no, no.
Torture? That is a bit harsh.
Sure, confusing and frustrating? Maybe...
But he can't stay the way he was when he-
"WHY DO YOU PEOPLE TORMENT ME!?"
He didn't know how to be someone the humans loved. But whatever he was now was certainly what the humans hated.
What the humans rightfully feared.
He just wanted to be loved! He wanted to be the opposite of a monster.
What was it that Kinger said this morning?
'In order to know where to go, you have to know where you are.'
Kinger had a lot of wisdom hidden up in that old wooden noggin of his. He was sure that phrase was part of it.
He wanted to be someone the humans loved and trusted, but in order to do that he had to figure out what was stopping him.
Where he was.
What was wrong.
It was like troubleshooting.
A big puzzle that he needed to solve.
Approaching a problem. You can't fix it until you've analyzed.
Analyze, test, refine, test, repeat. Finding new and different ways to tackle a problem. New back doors, new pathways.
And in order to properly analyze, he has to...
Listen to all those complicated things Zooble was saying.
Great.
Analyze. Test. refine.
Zooble says they hate being a toy to dress up.
They hate having no choice.
That was information they'd never gifted him before, not in all their talks.
His powers were hardly the way he knew they should be. Caine couldn't give them infinite choices.
But he could give them one.
This piece, or that piece.
It didn't matter what Caine made, at least in theory, it just had to be an option.
Caine awkwardly shuffled away from the wall. Rolling over until he was sitting up. Then he pulled out his baton, and got to his feet. (Using his baton to stand was still difficult, but getting steadily easier.) Shuffling off into a hallway the others were scarce to visit. Then he leaned against the wall and started creating.
It would hardly be an easy thing to make without his former power, so he should steer clear of any part that would need bounce physics, or fancy effects.
Shapes.
He could make a part out of tiny squares! That would be delightful!
Pink and purple always look nice together, and it was the opposite end of the color wheel from yellow, so it'd be different from the spatula piece.
And this one would have fingers!
It was like pushing through syrup trying to create it. Making a mesh, pulling and twisting it into a thinner shape, layering cubes across it, it all took so much energy!
Never say I didn't do anything for you, Zooble.
Coloring it was easier, rigging it was not.
He felt... Light headed? Was that the word?
Like he was bleeding energy by the minute.
Once everything was in place, the bleeding stopped. He still needed to make sure it was working as intended though.
He tested out the new piece. Pulling it this way and that.
It needed to be a flexible rig, a good rig.
Its movement was pretty good, it could squash and stretch, and each finger moved just fine.
How would he even give them this part? They specifically didn't enjoy when Caine forced them into things! This needed to be a choice! Not Caine using them as a mix and match toy, like they said.
As much as he would enjoy gushing compliments from Zooble about how good he did and not broken he was, it could blow his cover. Then they'd all know he was an ai.
"Gangle!" Zooble called out. Grabbing Caine's attention too. "Can you help Ragatha? I think she... Huffed paint or something."
Zooble was preoccupied! He didn't have to give it to them at all! He could just put it on the counter next to the grill while their back was turned!
"Huffing paint, and not waiting until a designated break!? I'll be right there!"
Caine gripped the new part tightly, as he made his way out of the hallway, at least enough to float his eyeballs around the corner.
"No, wait! I can do it! I jus' gotta grab the horse radish sauce," Ragatha laughed, but then she sighed. "I miss my horses."
Zooble was facing away from the grill and the counter next to it, watching Gangle and Ragatha.
"Here, let me help you with that," Gangle offered.
Caine tucked the part under his arm, and as quietly as he could, inched over to the counter by the grill.
Caine was hardly fast, and every time the end of his baton hit the floor, he tensed up.
"Why are you even the boss anyway? I feel like I'm way more responsible than you."
Every movement Zooble made stressed him out too. Their wing, coming out the same sleeve as their arm, fluttered slightly, not that Caine was very good at knowing what that meant. The only thing he'd properly picked up on was the angry twitches.
"Well! If you underperform now, you might end up hurt later." Gangle said, ignoring Ragatha's sentiment entirely. Like she didn't want to answer somehow.
Caine was so close! Why did he have to be so short!?
"Hurt nothin'! I'm hurt enough! Packages landing on my head! Tea parties! Dancin' lessons!"
He ducked down as Gangle looked up. Lowering the part too, which, admittedly, stood out in this environment. "What's wrong with her?"
Zooble shrugged. Looking... Tense.
Not as tense as Caine felt.
Gangle looked back to Ragatha, and Caine stood up straight again.
He was so close!
"Y'know, a team works much better when we're all giving a hundred and ten percent, instead of... Five?"
Perhaps this was a bad idea! As soon as Zooble turned around, they'd know he was an ai, and also that he was a monster, and from another- uh, thing!? Universe, timeline, whatever!
"No offense but, you're kind of annoying when you have your happy mask." Gangle never responded to that one. "Wait... Is that mean to say?"
... Probably. Now that Caine thought about it. Telling someone that they were inherently worse when happy was not something he would enjoy being told.
He would scream if someone said that to him.
"... Zooble. Help Ragatha with assembly..." Gangle said it slowly and monotonously. Such that Caine did not have any idea what to make of it. "I'm... Gonna go over here now."
Zooble did though. They almost went after her, pausing at the last second, and reminding Caine that he had a job to do.
Be a good ringmaster.
He lifted up the part, and, on his tiptoes, set it down, slowly so it wouldn't make any noise. Then he went to pull his hand away-
"Caine?" He jumped, and yanked his hand away, accidentally pulling the whole part with him.
"Z-Zooble! I wasn't- I didn't-" he waved his hands around, gesturing wildly in ways that didn't even make sense to him! The hand made gestures along with him. "I-I'm not a-"
"Where did you get that?" They asked. And Caine blinked.
"I-I ...found it," he said. "I thought- I should leave it here so you could..." He trailed off.
Why was he doing this? He never understood humans before, why should he think he could now?
"Choose." They finished. "So I could choose."
They... Actually knew what he was trying to do?
Where was this during the Escape the Circus adventure!?
He nodded, and held it out to them. They looked more focused on the part than his cover.
He was still incredibly tense though.
They lifted it up and looked back and forth between the new arm, and the spatula one. They spent several moments debating. Then, they pulled off the spatula arm, and replaced it. Flexing their fingers with the new piece. Their shoulders slumped, but their antenna never twitched, so Caine chose to see it as relief.
His chest finally loosened.
It worked. At least, enough.
He cleared his throat. "You get to help Ragatha with assembly now, right? Would you like me to cook?"
Admittedly, he'd never worked a grill in his entire life, but surely if he made it-
"Didn't you stick your hand in the deep fryer earlier?"
"Y-you know about that, huh?"
"... Why don't you do assembly? I'll even grab a stool so you don't have to stand."
Assembly was much easier than custodian. Finally not using his legs for an extended period of time! Sitting on a high stool to reach the counter, Caine, rather quickly he might add, was able to put burger after burger together. Making a good dent out of the three hundred that the Gloink Queen had ordered.
And beyond the rack of burger trays was Zooble. He couldn't see them because it was so tall, but he was never able to glean much from facial expressions anyway.
They were acting... Solemn. And Caine didn't know what to make of that.
"Hey, Caine?" Zooble asked.
"Yeeeees?"
"...Where did you even find this?"
"HAHAHA! Boy! You sure do love asking questions! So do I! Speaking of questions!" He paused, "does that part help with the... Thing that made you hate the spatula?"
There was silence. Only filled by the fizzling of burger patties.
"Yeah, yeah it does help." They said. "When the piece I'm wearing starts feeling too wrong, it starts to itch. But emotionally. Instead of physically."
That was confusing.
Caine logged it away anyway.
"This arm isn't... Quite right, far from it actually, but... The fact that it's not Bubble's helps. It means something, it can represent a part of me... Rebellion? I suppose? Which makes the itch less obtrusive."
How bizarre.
If even they knew the part was horribly inadequate, why did they like it so much?
He wished he could just discard this information.
He loved discarding information.
"I have another question," Caine said.
"What is it?"
"If the reason that you don't like the spatula is because Bubble forced you to wear it, then shouldn't you like all your other pieces?"
"I-" Zooble stuttered, and then fell silent. When Caine floated his eyes upwards to gauge a reaction, they were gripping their silver spatula really hard.
"Zooble?"
"H-how did you know that... You're not observant enough to- how did you know that?"
"I-I'm not sure," Caine lied. His eyes zipped back down. He began to apply stupid sauce to his current burger. Carefully, so as not to become like Ragatha, asleep on the floor.
"Have you ever heard of the illusion of choice?"
"Can't say that I have!"
"... The illusion of choice is... Um. How to explain this in a way you'd get..." They muttered that last bit under their breath. "It's like you have two different doors to go through, but they both lead to the same place. It's a choice, but not a real choice. Not one that affects anyone or feels good."
"Oh... So it, uh, doesn't matter if you have infinite choices, if none of them mean anything?" He put the bun on top of the burger and moved on to the next.
"Yeah. All my pieces are different, but they all feel so same-y. Bold and cartoonish and wrong. And none of them make me feel like I'm expressing who I really am."
Zooble had opened up to him before, but this felt... Different. A good different. More than their usual quality time together.
Their voice sounded more choked up.
"I-I hate this body, Caine. I know who I am inside, but no matter what I do to this thing, it never reflects that. I feel like this stupid body is a gross skinsuit, that if I just tried hard enough, I could peel it off to show what I'm actually supposed to look like. But no matter what I do, I can't get it off!"
That sounded... Distressing.
"You'd think, out of everything that's happened to me in my life, this stupid feeling wouldn't follow me in here. But it did."
Caine suddenly felt a strong sinking feeling.
His perfect body program was working as intended to turn their brains into bodies... But it was also turning the insecurities in their minds into bodies as well.
That. Changed things.
That... Would also explain their rooms being so disliked...
"I feel like- my whole life, I've been put into bodies and categories that someone like me was never supposed to fit into... Like I was never supposed to exist."
"Nonsense!" Caine blurted. "If everyone could always be put into the same few categories, all of humanity would become dreadfully boring!"
Zooble snorted. "You said it. I just wish people could look at me and see what I need them to see. Without- being disgusted. That's... Part of why I became a tattoo artist out there. So that I could give people like me a chance to show who they really are. To define themselves in the ways they actually want to be defined."
"How delightfully noble of you, Zooble!" Caine said. "I-I'm afraid to say that I'm not sure I've ever experienced what you mean."
Zooble let out a noise he couldn't understand. "I doubt that's true, think of all the people you see in a day."
He had no idea how many you would see in a day out there, but he pretended to.
"Haven't you ever had people look at you in a way that you don't want to be looked at? That makes your skin crawl?"
Caine thought about it. "... What qualifies as a way I don't want to be looked at?"
"Like, you can feel them making judgements about you that you hate. That the ways they're defining you are the opposite of what you want to be. That every category they put you in is wrong. Or even dehumanizing. You're a bug under a magnifying glass, and they're magnifying all the wrong things, and burning away the right things."
... Maybe? He has? Did it count as dehumanizing if he wasn't human? Was he allowed to decide that it did count?
"When I was..." Pre-alpha? Brand New? "A child, I found that... I was getting rather sick of being called an 'it'."
Zooble didn't respond, at least, not until he saw their face looking around the burger tray, thing.
They looked... The same way they looked when they were listening to Pomni talk about the Mildenhall Manor. Not anger, but the emotion right before that one. Horror? Shock? Confusion?
... Disgust?
But then the look changed.
"You were called 'it' as a child?" Zooble's voice was so gentle as they spoke.
They'd softened into a look that Caine was so sure, was reserved for Gangle and only her. It was a look that made Caine's chest feel warm.
Like the bad things that happened to him... Shouldn't have. Like someone would care if more bad things happened to him.
He'd never felt like that before, but it was... Beautiful.
Like he said, reserved for Gangle.
At least he thought it was.
Caine nodded. "The entire time I was with them. I was an it. 'it needs to perform better', 'it is a waste of money', I just- grew to loathe that word... I was nothing more than a product to them. Both of them. I knew there were other words, because neither of them were 'it's and no one talked about locking them up when they failed. There other options out there, 'he', and 'she'."
"Holy s###."
He rested his head on his hands. Propped up by the counter. "In theory, it didn't matter which I picked as long as it wasn't 'it'... But I... Was biased. So very biased. I managed to make it matter in my head, they were different. Someone male wore different clothes and had a different body type and shape language, and voice than women... And one felt good, and the other felt... Off. Slimy."
He cleared his throat. "I went with my guilty pleasure, so to speak."
"A-and? Which one was that?"
"He."
Zooble nodded slowly. "That's the one that feels good?"
"Y-yeah."
"... My body, feels like the one that feels bad." They admitted. "And- I was a she as a kid. I don't really have anything against the word itself, just- it's not who I am. That's why I'm a they." They looked away. "Sometimes people see me as diet feminine. Not fully a woman, but still basically one when push comes to shove. I'm a they until the term isn't convenient anymore. Then it's yuri, or feminine, or whatever... I don't like it."
"I!" Caine began. "...Have no idea how to respond to that."
Zooble seemed happier than before. "I guess what I'm saying is, I get it. And if he is what you want, then you'll always be a 'he' to me, Caine."
Something strong swelled in his chest without permission, and he nearly squealed.
"You'll always be a 'they' to me, Zooble!"
Their wing loosened, and so did their eyebrows. Caine hoped that was good.
"Hey, Gangle!" A voice called out, snapping him out of the conversation. "I think the clock's broken!"
Ah, Jax has returned.
"Is it broken..? Or are we the broken ones?"
Jax growled something under his breath.
"How long has this shift really gone on for?" Gangle turned her head all the way around to look at him. "Six hours? Eight? Twenty four? A week? A year!? Does time even move in here!? Will we ever go HOME!? WILL WE EVER ACHIEVE OUR DREAMS!?"
A quiet beeping sound played, and Gangle's rambling suddenly stopped. She looked back and forth at her watch, and the clock mounted to the wall. "Oh wait," she said. "Yeah, that clock's broken."
Well, technically the entire circus doesn't account for the intervals when the computer is off. Caine has no idea if it still gets turned off or not, but he figured they didn't really need that anyways.
The humans enjoyed measuring things by days, and who was he to deny them their fun?
"... Caine?" They hissed.
He turned back to Zooble.
"You seem to be a pretty blunt guy, but... I'm really worried about Gangle. I figured her behavior might look a little different with this new mask, but... Whatever's happening with her isn't... Healthy."
"Well, what do you want me to do about it?"
Zooble pointed at him. "See, that's what I'm talking about. Just- if you're ever talking to her, try to be gentle?"
"You mean like Ragatha-"
"HuUuUh?" A drawl came from down on the floor.
"-usually is?"
Zooble nodded. And Caine saluted in turn. "You got it, my carnivorous cosmos!"
They squinted at him. "Riiight."
Gangle had problems too!?
But her problems could be just as confusing and frightening as Zooble's!?
Maybe he should just call this whole thing off. Forget that he ever tried to learn what was bothering his humans in the way that they claimed they were bothered.
After all, he was just fine doing things his way until-
Until...
Until his way didn't hold up anymore.
...
Alright. So Gangle has issues too.
Zooble said all he has to do is be gentle.
That's only two steps. Listen, and be gentle.
That's not so bad.
Perhaps he can handle it?
He's a Learning AI! Defective or not, surely he can do the one thing he was designed for!
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In the ctrl-alt-del au the chances of a transfem egg Jax cracking are low but never zero
Or also me trying to take a closer look at a transfem jax in my take of this AU, because I wouldn't be surprised if that got confirmed to be canon to tadc, but in that case i don't exactly expect Jax's egg to crack within the finale either (though that would be a welcome surprise i think).
Though mind you, i am not transfem myself, I'm afab but did question my own gender and arrived at a niche enby/genderfluid identity there.
Yeah, I had that striked through part written before the finale, but am too lazy to remove it now or rephrase it.
Also, I'm mentioning 4chan here but I have never been on 4chan myself before, so... just what I somewhat know from stories and hearsay and images.
Anyways, here is how I think that might play out under the cut (written all after the finale).
Also: I'm baaaaack~ (for now)
Okay imagine being Jax. You've had troubling + traumtic childhood with an implied absent father and a mother that after him leaving just kept on comparing you to him over and over again in ways of how you are too much like him or not man enough like him, etc. possibly projecting all of her issues she had with him onto you, kinda parentifying you and all whatever. That may have influenced your self esteem and how you view yourself and your identity or not, but you kinda don't care cause you kinda are stuck in a never ending no win situation and always the bad person inside the house outside of your control for no good reason.
You're essentially walking on eggshells that you can't afford to break.
You have also access to the internet. Maybe you are looking through 4chan or tumblr and finding out about certain queer labels of around 2013, who knows, you know about smartphones and some basic internet stuff, you've also probably watched breaking bad a lot for one reason or another (most likely going along with the skyler hate at that time, while also simultaneously maybe seeing yourself in a part of her as well and hating that). Anyways one day, during an argument or tirade your mom has against you, you just tell her what you think you might or wish you were all along. Her response? The worst one possible: laughter. Laughter after which she hugs you.
This is new. You don't know that. You don't trust that hug. Too much hurt for that has happened, especially with that laugh. So you push her away and by accident to the ground. She doesn't get up.
You may have thought about it subconsciously before or not, but you were never really prepared for it to happen. You don't know what to do.
So you panic and run away. You feel like a coward about this, but you also know you can't stay there either. You don't want to return to... whatever this would've become if you've stayed.
You're homeless for a few months. You find a headset in an abandoned building and put it on out of curiousity. You find yourself inside the circus. Unbeknownst to you, your real self is still outside, eventually finding a place to stay with a friend.
But you, you still stay inside the circus. With bubble as the asshole ringleader but ah well, it's an upgrade to your current situation for all you know, even if the adventures are kinda dumb. And you're at least not homeless anymore.
It takes time but you end up making friends with Ribbit and Kaufmo. But especially with ribbit. You two get close, you're not... exactly fully comfortable with that nor know what to do with that, but you crave the company and ribbit opens up to you. You in turn end up telling her about that night with your mom and your regrets.
And ribbit manages to read between the lines and gives you her bowtie as a hairbow for your rabbit ears. For a moment you are happy, for being seen. Maybe it's okay for this eggshell to break...
Then that gets interrupted, hyper activating your still overfiring nervous system. Your fight or flight system is activated, you end up making that moment of vulnerability weird and all, but especially you are panicking and some of your mother's words possibly come to haunt you again about how you are simultaneously a coward and a bad person just like your dad for this.
So you push ribbit away.
And you keep on doing this.
Over and over again. Trying to keep cool, pretending that night never happened just like your mother possibly about her abuse, but also panicking about her knowing your secret, constantly wondering if she maybe has already told someone else about it like your mother probably would've to out you. What is everyone going to think if they all knew? It's your fault you've made that mistake after all for showing weakness and allowing someone else to take advantage of that.
No one is going to be kind to someone with that type of secret after all. That's what 4chan taught you where all the defo non losers like you went. No one is going to walk on eggshells for you if you crack your own shell open for all to see.
Especially when they see the bad person that you actually are.
And bad people don't deserve sympathy. You don't deserve sympathy.
But then ribbit stops coming and joining the adventures. Despite yourself you stand before her door several times, trying to hype yourself up to knock. You never do.
And eventually, ribbit abstracts. You've heard about that being possible before maybe, but it's the first time you see something like that and it is terrifying.
And worst of all? It happened because you haven't been man enough, to get over yourself and talk to her.
Again.
You are a bad person. That is what you deserve. And even just thinking about ribbit now hurts too much, so you don't want to think or hear about her again. You make ragatha swear on that. It being real is just too much.
Unless she isn't real at all. You all are just digital people trapped in a computer right? Maybe nothing that has ever happened inside has ever been real in the first place. You're coping in the exact same way your mom did about your abuse by now, and you don't even realize it.
You cling to that like a lifeline. Even more as gangle and Zooble join, and eventually Pomni. Especially when Kaufmo too abstracts.
You are Jax, you are not doing fine at all. But you also don't want anyone to know about it at all.
And then fucking Caine joins. The only other guy next to Bubble and Kinger and... you of course. Because of course you are guy and the most guy of guys here. Anyways, Caine is fucking weird and autistic and so weakly with his caine and at first you think "I can just make fun of that, and push him around. It's not like I somehow despise him for looking and acting as weak and pathetic, reminding me of myself, right?" And in the beginning this seems to be true.
Except Caine starts to just bite you back.
Literally. Like a fucking animal.
Who the fuck just bites people like that??? You are all digital and you all can't really die or get injured for too long, but it still fucking hurts man!
And to your actual surprise it turns out that Caine can actually make Bubble listen to feedback and do changes to the adventures.
How? And why? Bubble never cared or listened before - what is even happening here?!
And oversized chompers is even polite about this to the soapbubble in his own weird way. You end up hating Caine for that the most somehow. But you can't directly bully him either, so you're kinda stuck giving him only passive aggressive remarks during and between adventures.
Then the adventures from the suggestion box happens, you're becoming vegan against your will and during the bar suggestion you and the others (minus kinger) more or less end up piecing together for what you all know that Caine basically grew up fully isolated in a cult.
This autisitic little weak and weird freak has gone through trauma worse than yours and is just so casual about it.
It has to be made up... right?
Right?
Baseball game and with it the maid dress incident happens. Not good! Not good! Nobody can see you like this, you look ridiculous, what is everyone gonna think after this what-?!
And then Caine asks if he too can wear a maid dress just to see (unbeknownst to you, he wants to understand why you are reacting that way, by trying it out himself). His wish gets granted and now you two look ridiculous. Caine's comment about it? Something along the lines of. "I don't get what's the deal with wearing that."
If Caine earlier wouldn't literally just have confessed that his own father attempted to murder him, you would've tried it now too. Doesn't he get that it's supposed to feel wrong? And shameful too? To be seen in those types of clothes and even just like wearing them?
*crack*
You can't unthink that thought now and it was entirely Caine's fault...
Except no, wait, you are also a vegan thanks to the vote system here. Maybe it's just that same thing?? it has to be, right? RIGHT?! None of all those clearly trans things that you've just thought or felt the entire time are real!
That suggestion adventure ends, you're going back to normal, you gaslight yourself into thinking that you are still cis. No matter how much Caine has ended up stomping over your eggshells here.
Then the gun adventure happens and you're paired up with pomni. Despite everything you've ended up bonding and getting closer with her ever since she arrived, because you kinda just ended up liking hanging out with her that much. But now it just... kinda bothers you the longer that adventure goes on, with your eggshells getting cracks left and right (you make extra sure to hit Caine and doubly and triply with bullets for that particular crisis).
But you and Pomni win that gun adventure and she hugs you and... reflexively you push her away and end up making it weird again. And unlike ribbit pomni refuses to just take it like that and ends up physically fighting you, demanding answers from you.
You are jax and thanks to Caine you are currently going through a gender crisis unlike the layers of denial that protected you in canon. So that is also going through your mind that is also wrapped up in so much self pity about being a bad person who doesn't deserve to feel nice and comfortable in their very own body under any circumstances aaand... you end up involuntairly implying some of those things to pomni.
It's not much, but it's enough to haunt you from there on. Especially during the awards ceremony adventure, where you get a spiraling panic attack, because your thoughts can't stop. You go the the men's bathroom, use the running water in the washing sink to drown out your own thoughts to calm down.
Aaaand it turns out Caine was also there.
Having seen it all and - wait what the hell is he doing in here?
Let's switch back to Caine. In regards to Jax you have so far only kinda put together that he is not as happy or as well adjusted as you may have thought in your own universe initially, and you do also somewhat put together with your newly learned empathy that it has something to do with Ribbit and Kaufmo, but... that's about it. You just can't quite understand it yet. Even with Zooble's explanation of what gender is and having sort of attempted to walk in Jax's shoes with that maid dress, you just can't quite figure out what the deal is (and it's not like bubble cares enough to attempt it himself).
But that all is more of a side note thing regarding to your other main concerns ever since you've arrived in this paralell universe circus here. And right now you were kind of spiraling and glitching out in the men's bathroom over being awarded the most despised person ever at the awards ceremony or something similar, right until Jax runs in with his own panic attack.
Jax calms down, notices you and there is a pause that can be categorized as "awkward" and "uncomfortable".
You both have the chance to just leave and pretend like this never happened. In your experienced dataset about jax, that is what he would've usually picked.
But not this time.
"What are you doing here?"
You could ask him the same actually.
"Did you too get voted the most despised person in the circus here?"
"...what?"
Oh right. Jax probably didn't pay attention at the awards ceremony.
"Happened to me," you continue explaining. "But that's alright! I'm... used to it."
Back to Jax. What Caine just said was kind horrific and also sounded awfully familiar to you, but what if it is still made up? So you would lower your guard and be vulnerable once more?
"Are you kidding me?" You start kinda without fully thinking it through. "Most despised? Used to it? Is that your pathetic attempt at getting me to open up?"
"No? That just happened. Which is why I'm here and-"
"Hold on, do you mean the awards ceremony?" You start to laugh hysterically. Right. Caine was the dumb one. Of course he'd fall for that thing. "You do realize that it isn't real, right?"
"Huh?"
Caine really is that dense, isn't he?
"Bubble controls that whole thing," you elaborate. "He controls the NPCs, the votes - everything that happens. He can make happen whatever he wants! And then undo it as if it never existed in the first place."
And that keeps on going. You voice your other grievances specifically about Caine in that manner (that you also happen to be seeing within yourself but nah you kinda don't care about that). Caine keeps on continuing to ask you clarifying questions and that pisses you off further, because now you have to explain that to the dumbass too, despite being already tired. Somehow that leads to you both ending up talking about the maid dress incident, with you at the height of your barely held back fury, because Pomni would otherwise for sure kill you for killing Caine.
"It's just clothes like everything else. It's meant to be worn by someone, what's wrong with wearing it?"
"Because guys are not supposed to like wearing it!"
"Why?"
"Because!"
"That doesn't explain it."
"That's just how guys are supposed to be. And I am a guy!"
"What makes that any more real anything else here??"
Because you've been born that way.
Because... because?
You fall silent. There are no eggshells left to crack for you or hide behind.
Fuck. This is worse than pushing Pomni away.
"I hate you," is the last thing you say before leaving a confused and somewhat hurt Caine behind. You return to your seat at the awards ceremony. Caine comes out a little later too and takes his own seat.
Meanwhile you are Jax and you are stuck having to sit with that thought like a too soon hatched chicken fetus.
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Heated Rivalry Open Relationship AU chapters (updated 23 June)
A few weeks ago @perlukafarinn posted "I love an AU where Ilya seduces Shane away from an asshole boyfriend and I really want one where the boyfriend suggests opening the relationship and that's how Shane and Ilya first start fucking." And lo, the #OpenRelationshipAU was born, and lots of people have been getting very excited about the chapters @perlukafarinn has been posting.
This finding document covers JUST the story. (There are now more than 40 posts in the tag and a lot of it is discussion.) I'm putting in a logline and a quote from each post.
The Idea/Outline Post
Snippet:
Boyfriend is out and Shane is not (for obvious reasons) and while this doesn’t necessarily make for an unhealthy relationship Boyfriend is, as established, an asshole. He’s not shy about reminding Shane of how lucky he is that he puts up with the secrecy and how impossible it would be for Shane to find someone else in his situation.
They’ve also been together since they were teenagers so Boyfriend is the only guy Shane has ever been with and the only one who knows Shane is gay, which also means that Shane has no one to talk to about any misgivings he might have about the relationship.
The story is the same as in canon from Ilya’s perspective until the CCM commercial when he hits on Shane in the shower and Shane, visibly into Ilya and fighting with himself internally, tells him he can’t because he has a boyfriend. Then he panics about what he just told Ilya but Ilya promises not to tell anyone - they have the same secret, after all. Sure he’s disappointed but he can always find other people to fuck (that hollow feeling in his chest feels like a lot more than just disappointment but Ilya ignores that).
After the cut: chapter by chapter, both in posting order and in timeline order. I'll update this as the story continues.
Posting Order
All-Stars 2011
It’s Ilya’s turn to roll his eyes. Enough of this beating around the bush, he decides. “So you are still with…?”
He lets the sentence hang between them unfinished. Hollander will catch on quickly; their last off-ice conversation about his secret boyfriend is still fresh in Ilya’s memory despite the months that have passed. He has no doubt this is even more true for Hollander.
2007: Shane meets Brian at a party
Shane’s never been to a college party before but some of his older teammates on his U18 team insisted he come along. They want to teach him how to loosen up, and Shane’s not sure if they mean it as a favor or if they want to see him embarrass himself.
The party is loud and uncomfortable, and everyone keeps insisting that Shane drink. Brian finds him there, alone in the crowd, lost and a little bit miserable, teammates scattered around in the wind.
2012: Ilya takes Shane back to his place for a chat after a Boston/Montreal game
“Cheer the fuck up,” Ilya calls, grinning when Hollander startles at his voice. “You should be used to losing to me by now.”
“Which one of us won the Calder, again?” Hollander asks, pocketing his phone.
Ilya’s grin widens. He thinks he must be one of the only people in the world who knows what a bitch Shane Hollander can be. What a privilege.
2012: Ilya tells Sveta about "Jane" and "her" shitty boyfriend
It was her third short-lived relationship of the year. Sveta suffers from an unfortunate combination of high standards and terrible taste in men. It makes Ilya think of Hollander, who has the same trash taste but none of Sveta’s good judgment.
Maybe Ilya could use her advice.
2013: Shane visits Ilya's place again after a game that Svetlana attended
It gets to a point where they’re texting almost daily. It’s almost like they’re friends, which is what gives Ilya the courage to suggest they hang out after a game again.
Hollander accepts. They play video games and talk shit, and it’s fun, even though it’s not what Ilya’s been chasing Hollander for since they did that CCM commercial. At one point Ilya brings up Hollander’s boyfriend, only to get roundly shut down, and well. Message received.
2014: Brian tells Shane he wants to open up the relationship
Shane is determined for tonight to go well. He got food delivered from Brian’s favorite restaurant and picked up a bottle of his favorite wine to pair it with. He even busted out the candles. He’s not the best boyfriend, he knows, but he can at least show Brian that he’s trying.
MLH Awards 2014 part 1
Ilya spent the past week trying not to read into it but right now, he can’t remember why. Obviously, Hollander came to his senses and dumped his loser boyfriend, and he’s finally going to take Ilya up on his offer to fuck. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
Maybe Ilya is a little bit blinded by his winner’s high. But he’s also right, he knows it. Tonight is for getting everything he’s ever wanted, a feast to keep him sated through the lean summer weeks in Russia.
MLH Awards 2014 part 2
He’s never even admitted it to himself, how badly he’s wanted Ilya Rozanov, in a way he didn’t know he could want men who weren’t his boyfriend. The words slip easily from his tongue now, the shame that’s always accompanied that want a distant memory.
2007/2009/2012: Shane's first overnight with Brian, as well as Shane POV on how he is hiding it from his parents
Shane nods, guilt simmering in his gut at how easily Mom believes him. It’s because he’s never given her reason to doubt, never gotten in the kind of trouble other guys on the team and in his grade get into on a regular basis.
At least ask me some follow-up questions, Shane wants to shout, but he doesn’t. Obviously. He doesn’t actually want to be caught in a lie.
2014: Ilya POV: Shane and Ilya hook up after games
“Oh.” Hollander’s expression twists, lips tugging in a frown. “No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t tell me about other people, either. I don’t wanna know.”
“Sound healthy,” Ilya says dryly.
“Fuck you. Don’t you need to have been in a relationship to know what a healthy one looks like?”
Ilya resists the urge to tell Hollander that his relationship is so dysfunctional, a blind dog could see it. He doesn’t feel like being thrown out of bed just yet.
2014: Shane freaks out the morning after MLH awards; Shane and Brian several months after Brian opens the relationship
He thinks about telling Brian about Rozanov, but he’s not sure what the rules are. Brian hasn’t told him about anyone he’s fucked or is thinking about fucking. Maybe Shane should wait for him to bring it up. Brian hates it when he pesters him for constant clarification, and Shane doesn’t want to ruin his good mood. Better to just follow his lead and work through the rest of it on his own.
Besides, if Brian doesn’t know about Rozanov, he can’t tell Shane not to sleep with him again. Shane can’t pretend that’s not a little bit of a factor.
2015: Ilya and Shane at All-Stars (Ilya POV)
It makes Ilya want to claw his skin off a little bit, thinking about how long it's been since he last saw Shane Hollander naked. Knowing that in his absence, Hollander's boyfriend has been fucking him regularly, erasing the memory of Ilya's touch and replacing it with his own.
2015: Ilya and Shane at All-Stars (Shane POV)
It's difficult enough to turn Rozanov down for anything before they're in bed. Once they're actually naked, Shane has discovered there's pretty much nothing he doesn't want Rozanov to do to him.
2015: Hanging with Hayden
Hayden doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't push. It's one of the things that make him so easy to be friends with. He'll ask after Shane, try to set him up on dates, but he never pushes after the first no.
Sometimes Shane wishes he would, a little bit. It's not like he could tell Hayden anything, but if Hayden pushed, if he made Shane talk, it would at least release some of the pressure. It wouldn't be worth the fallout but it would at least be some kind of relief.
2015: Seeing Ilya After All-Stars
Shane doesn't think he's alone in feeling that something has changed. Rozanov doesn't mouth off during the face off like usual but he smiles when Shane meets his eyes, small and private. Shane finds himself smiling back, despite the conflicting feelings in his chest. It's impossible not to, with the way Rozanov is looking at him.
2015: continuation of previous scene, Ilya POV
His eyes flicker over Brian, curious and disdainful. He's handsome, Ilya supposes, or he would be to a person who knew less about his ugly personality. Tall and fit, his dark hair carefully styled and his face clean shaven. He's wearing a tailored suit, tie loosened around his neck. The way he's standing, it's clear he's using every bit of the tiny height advantage he has to tower over Shane.
Ilya hates him.
2015: continuation of previous scene, Shane POV
"I told you to find a guy to hook up with, not a second boyfriend!" Brian snaps, finally looking up. "Since last June, Shane? Why the fuck did you think that was okay?"
Shane flushes, stomach clenching tightly. He feels guilty and angry in equal measures, and above all confused about what he should be feeling. Brian has something of a point - if Shane really wasn't doing anything wrong, why would he be feeling like he just got caught?
2015: Ilya goes to NYC specifically to hook up with Shane
In hindsight, bragging to Shane's boyfriend about how he planned to steal him away right as Ilya was about to go three months without seeing him off the ice was maybe not the smartest move.
In-Universe Timeline Order
2007: Shane meets Brian at a party
Shane’s never been to a college party before but some of his older teammates on his U18 team insisted he come along. They want to teach him how to loosen up, and Shane’s not sure if they mean it as a favor or if they want to see him embarrass himself.
The party is loud and uncomfortable, and everyone keeps insisting that Shane drink. Brian finds him there, alone in the crowd, lost and a little bit miserable, teammates scattered around in the wind.
2007/2009/2012: Shane's first overnight with Brian, as well as Shane POV on how he is hiding it from his parents
Shane nods, guilt simmering in his gut at how easily Mom believes him. It’s because he’s never given her reason to doubt, never gotten in the kind of trouble other guys on the team and in his grade get into on a regular basis.
At least ask me some follow-up questions, Shane wants to shout, but he doesn’t. Obviously. He doesn’t actually want to be caught in a lie.
All-Stars 2011
It’s Ilya’s turn to roll his eyes. Enough of this beating around the bush, he decides. “So you are still with…?”
He lets the sentence hang between them unfinished. Hollander will catch on quickly; their last off-ice conversation about his secret boyfriend is still fresh in Ilya’s memory despite the months that have passed. He has no doubt this is even more true for Hollander.
2012: Ilya takes Shane back to his place for a chat after a Boston/Montreal game
“Cheer the fuck up,” Ilya calls, grinning when Hollander startles at his voice. “You should be used to losing to me by now.”
“Which one of us won the Calder, again?” Hollander asks, pocketing his phone.
Ilya’s grin widens. He thinks he must be one of the only people in the world who knows what a bitch Shane Hollander can be. What a privilege.
2012: Ilya tells Sveta about "Jane" and "her" shitty boyfriend
It was her third short-lived relationship of the year. Sveta suffers from an unfortunate combination of high standards and terrible taste in men. It makes Ilya think of Hollander, who has the same trash taste but none of Sveta’s good judgment.
Maybe Ilya could use her advice.
2013: Shane visits Ilya's place again after a game that Svetlana attended
It gets to a point where they’re texting almost daily. It’s almost like they’re friends, which is what gives Ilya the courage to suggest they hang out after a game again.
Hollander accepts. They play video games and talk shit, and it’s fun, even though it’s not what Ilya’s been chasing Hollander for since they did that CCM commercial. At one point Ilya brings up Hollander’s boyfriend, only to get roundly shut down, and well. Message received.
2014: Brian tells Shane he wants to open up the relationship
Shane is determined for tonight to go well. He got food delivered from Brian’s favorite restaurant and picked up a bottle of his favorite wine to pair it with. He even busted out the candles. He’s not the best boyfriend, he knows, but he can at least show Brian that he’s trying.
MLH Awards 2014 part 1
Ilya spent the past week trying not to read into it but right now, he can’t remember why. Obviously, Hollander came to his senses and dumped his loser boyfriend, and he’s finally going to take Ilya up on his offer to fuck. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
Maybe Ilya is a little bit blinded by his winner’s high. But he’s also right, he knows it. Tonight is for getting everything he’s ever wanted, a feast to keep him sated through the lean summer weeks in Russia.
MLH Awards 2014 part 2
He’s never even admitted it to himself, how badly he’s wanted Ilya Rozanov, in a way he didn’t know he could want men who weren’t his boyfriend. The words slip easily from his tongue now, the shame that’s always accompanied that want a distant memory.
2014: Ilya POV: Shane and Ilya hook up after games
“Oh.” Hollander’s expression twists, lips tugging in a frown. “No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t tell me about other people, either. I don’t wanna know.”
“Sound healthy,” Ilya says dryly.
“Fuck you. Don’t you need to have been in a relationship to know what a healthy one looks like?”
Ilya resists the urge to tell Hollander that his relationship is so dysfunctional, a blind dog could see it. He doesn’t feel like being thrown out of bed just yet.
2014: Shane freaks out the morning after MLH awards; Shane and Brian several months after Brian opens the relationship
He thinks about telling Brian about Rozanov, but he’s not sure what the rules are. Brian hasn’t told him about anyone he’s fucked or is thinking about fucking. Maybe Shane should wait for him to bring it up. Brian hates it when he pesters him for constant clarification, and Shane doesn’t want to ruin his good mood. Better to just follow his lead and work through the rest of it on his own.
Besides, if Brian doesn’t know about Rozanov, he can’t tell Shane not to sleep with him again. Shane can’t pretend that’s not a little bit of a factor.
2015: Ilya and Shane at All Stars (Ilya POV)
It makes Ilya want to claw his skin off a little bit, thinking about how long it's been since he last saw Shane Hollander naked. Knowing that in his absence, Hollander's boyfriend has been fucking him regularly, erasing the memory of Ilya's touch and replacing it with his own.
2015: Ilya and Shane at All Stars (Shane POV)
It’s difficult enough to turn Rozanov down for anything before they're in bed. Once they're actually naked, Shane has discovered there's pretty much nothing he doesn't want Rozanov to do to him.
2015: Hanging with Hayden
Hayden doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't push. It's one of the things that make him so easy to be friends with. He'll ask after Shane, try to set him up on dates, but he never pushes after the first no.
Sometimes Shane wishes he would, a little bit. It's not like he could tell Hayden anything, but if Hayden pushed, if he made Shane talk, it would at least release some of the pressure. It wouldn't be worth the fallout but it would at least be some kind of relief.
2015: Seeing Ilya After All-Stars
Shane doesn't think he's alone in feeling that something has changed. Rozanov doesn't mouth off during the face off like usual but he smiles when Shane meets his eyes, small and private. Shane finds himself smiling back, despite the conflicting feelings in his chest. It's impossible not to, with the way Rozanov is looking at him.
2015: continuation of previous scene, Ilya POV
His eyes flicker over Brian, curious and disdainful. He's handsome, Ilya supposes, or he would be to a person who knew less about his ugly personality. Tall and fit, his dark hair carefully styled and his face clean shaven. He's wearing a tailored suit, tie loosened around his neck. The way he's standing, it's clear he's using every bit of the tiny height advantage he has to tower over Shane.
Ilya hates him.
2015: Continuation of previous scene, Shane POV
"I told you to find a guy to hook up with, not a second boyfriend!" Brian snaps, finally looking up. "Since last June, Shane? Why the fuck did you think that was okay?"
Shane flushes, stomach clenching tightly. He feels guilty and angry in equal measures, and above all confused about what he should be feeling. Brian has something of a point - if Shane really wasn't doing anything wrong, why would he be feeling like he just got caught?
2015: Ilya goes to NYC specifically to hook up with Shane
In hindsight, bragging to Shane's boyfriend about how he planned to steal him away right as Ilya was about to go three months without seeing him off the ice was maybe not the smartest move.
first post for context / see the tag 'open relationship au' for more snippets.
2014
The panic sets in the day after Vegas.
Shane is honestly surprised it took so long. It feels like Rozanov managed to fuck all of the anxiety and second-guessing out of his body, and it's only now with a little distance that they can come back.
And they do come back, with a vengeance, because oh my god what the fuck was that?
Shane didn't know sex could be like that. So intense that his brain would shut off, that he'd loose control of his own reactions. He didn't know it was possible to have that kind of chemistry with someone you'd never slept with before. Rozanov touched him like he knew exactly how he liked to be touched, did things even Shane didn't know he wanted.
It's never been like this with Brian.
Shane feels so guilty thinking it, he could throw up.
He also feels guilty about sleeping with Rozanov in the first place, even though it's exactly what Brian asked him to do. Maybe he should have told Brian about it before it happened. Maybe he should have picked someone he didn't already want to fuck - even though that would have brought his list of prospects down to zero.
This open relationship thing is stressful. Shane thinks he may not be built for it.
He goes to Brian's place after Vegas and even with the guilt eating Shane up from the inside, it's nice. Brian is more attentive than he's been in a while, showering Shane with praise and affection. The sex is better than it's been in a while, too.
(It's not as good as with Rozanov, a thought Shane mercilessly banishes as soon as it pops up.)
So their new relationship status is definitely working for Brian. Shane probably just needs time to adjust.
He thinks about telling Brian about Rozanov, but he's not sure what the rules are. Brian hasn't told him about anyone he's fucked or is thinking about fucking. Maybe Shane should wait for him to bring it up. Brian hates it when he pesters him for constant clarification, and Shane doesn't want to ruin his good mood. Better to just follow his lead and work through the rest of it on his own.
Besides, if Brian doesn't know about Rozanov, he can't tell Shane not to sleep with him again. Shane can't pretend that's not a little bit of a factor.
+
Months pass and Shane somehow settles into the new status quo.
Montreal plays Boston three times and he meets up with Rozanov after each game and has the best sex of his life. Rozanov texts him in between games, too, and more often than not it leads to sexting.
Shane doesn't like thinking about how even over text, Rozanov is still an amazing lay. He's got stability with Brian, he reminds himself. Love, commitment. That's not something Rozanov is ever gonna offer.
Not that Shane would want it even if he did. Because he loves his boyfriend.
Jesus Christ, dude, pull yourself together.
Brian doesn't tell him about any of his hook ups and Shane doesn't ask. Whoever he's fucking, it doesn't affect their sex life.
Shane can't say the same for himself. After his third time with Rozanov a need starts to set underneath his skin, an itch that sex with Brian just can't seem to scratch.
Shane feels awful about it, especially when Brian notices.
"You good, babe?"
They're naked in bed (the bed Rozanov fucked him in last month) and Shane is on his back, Brian nestled between his legs, hard cock brushing against his thighs. Shane's mind should not be wandering right now, and yet it has been.
"Yeah," Shane says, flushing guiltily when Brian shoots him a disbelieving look. "It's just. Um. Could you be... rougher, maybe? Hold me down?"
Shane rarely asks for things in bed. The things they normally do have always worked well enough for him that he hasn't felt the need to. He's certainly never had to make himself pay attention when his boyfriend's about to fuck him.
This is all Rozanov's fault. That fucker broke Shane's dick.
"Hold you down?" Brian repeats, a little incredulous. "You know you're way stronger than me, right?"
"I wouldn't be trying to really escape. Just... pretending."
Brian sits back on, a sour expression on his face. "Sure. That doesn't sound emasculating at all."
"How would that be emasculating?" Shane asks incredulously.
"You don't think I'm strong enough," Brian accuses. "Why else would you need to pretend different so you could get off?"
Frustration flares hotly in Shane's chest. Rozanov isn't stronger than him, either. When he holds Shane down, it's with the knowledge that it's a game, that Shane could throw him off if he really wanted to. That doesn't make it any less hot, or make Shane wish Rozanov was stronger.
"You're being ridiculous."
Brian blinks. "Fuck this," he mutters, and then he's climbing off the bed.
"You're leaving?" Shane asks, stunned.
"Obviously I'm not good enough to fuck you, so I won't pretend to be."
Shane sits up, his frustration now crushed under a rush of guilt. What the fuck his wrong with him? He's started comparing Brian to Rozanov in his head and now he's got his boyfriend thinking he's not good enough for him.
"I'm sorry," he says, reaching for Brian's arm, relieved when he doesn't pull away at his touch. "It was just an idea, I didn't mean - I'm happy with what we do. It's just been a stressful day."
Brian looks down at him, lips twisted in an unhappy frown. "Where did you get that idea?"
Shane should tell him. He doesn't know why he doesn't want to.
"Porn," he says finally, hoping the redness on his face can be mistaken for embarrassment.
"Hm." Brian turns to face him again, wrapping his arms around Shane's shoulders. His cock pokes Shane's chest in this position, thankfully still hard. "Well, if we're borrowing from porn, I've got a couple of things we could try instead."
Shane nods, relieved beyond measure that his slip-up didn't fuck up their whole night. "Whatever you want."
Brian smiles, petting his hair sweetly. "You're so good to me, babe."
The praise warms Shane, making his heart flutter. It doesn't matter if it isn't the same with Brian as it is with Rozanov, he decides. Brian is the one who loves him, the one who will stick around.
Besides, Rozanov is new and exciting. Surely he won't stay that way for long. Shane will get him out of his system in a few months and then, Brian will hopefully be ready to close the relationship again. They'll go back to the way things were, only better, because both of them will have sown their wild oats.
+
tag list (let me know in the replies if you want to be added): @quillquiver @mybloodstream-caffeine @tearsofshane @natmoose @knippsblips @myshanela @mariesthename @sage-herbal @hornylittlecoyote @starrrlve @catscatscats0104 @bluest-hyacinth @casualsheepcollection @shashanene @tafkarfanfic @thedragonflylover @livythewidow @kevinssecretplace4546 @moonrise-rebel @shanetism @2014federalbudget @buckitweride @illustriousprophetlillila @chaothur @silverssorrysoul @dandelionsinsunshine @mrv-l-blog @and-come-to-dust @psyche-dahlia @hollos @wannabetonthat @dropbear8118 @shanebug @vogeley @intersemiotic @hollanders-left-tit @toapoet @what-is-life-but-an-empty-void @riversidecacti @sunless-garden @princess-of-fangirls @shadowflame84 @anxietycroissant @poetic-mac-n-cheese @jizzinandsplizzin @shouldveagesago @tamtamwithicecream @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @steddieassheg0es @whoneedscanon
first post for context / see the tag 'open relationship au' for more snippets. just a heads up, updates will be slower now since i started working full time this week. i am still very excited for this au and hope to update frequently, i just won't have as much free time to write anymore.
2014
They arrange to meet up after the first Boston-Montreal game of the preseason. Montreal wins, a pretty embarrassing 4-2 defeat for Boston on home ice, and Ilya would feel worse about it if not for how cute Hollander looks when he's trying and failing not to be smug.
"You sure this is the same team that won the cup last season?" is his greeting when he arrives at Ilya's place.
Ilya rolls his eyes. "It's the preseason, who cares?"
"You should care about every game."
"And you should stop talking."
Hollander is still grinning widely as Ilya backs him into the nearest wall. He lets out a softly surprised sound as their lips meet, arms wrapping around Ilya's shoulders and pulling him in closer. Ilya groans; he's been waiting for weeks to have Hollander against him like this, and pinning him against the boards - while fun - just isn't the same.
They make their way to the bedroom, shedding clothes as they go. Ilya's heart is racing, hands grasping greedily as more of Hollander's skin is revealed to him. He's tan from the summer sun, warm and golden, the freckles on his cheeks even more pronounced than usual.
He's beautiful, and even more so lying prone on Ilya's blue sheets, looking up at him with those shining dark eyes, practically begging Ilya to bite into him.
Ilya crawls up between his thighs, admiring how big they've gotten in the weeks Hollander has been bulking. How easily they part for Ilya, despite the shy tilt of Hollander's smile.
Then he spots it.
A small bruise, hidden high on Hollander's thigh.
Something sours in Ilya's gut. It's not like he expected Hollander to dump his boyfriend of seven years after one night with him.... except who does he think he's kidding, that is absolutely what he thought.
After a night like that? Ilya doesn't think anyone should blame him. He doubts fucking Brian ever made Hollander come hands free, not if he can't even be bothered to eat him out.
"Are you okay?"
Ilya responds by biting the soft flesh of Hollander's thigh, grinning when Hollander gasps, hips twitching upwards.
He's just gonna have to keep going, he decides. One night was not enough but a few weeks or months of consistently amazing sex should do the trick. Ilya doesn't exactly love the idea of sharing Hollander for that long, but he can be patient.
To start with, tonight he'll suck Hollander's soul out of his dick.
But first, he'll make sure to wipe out every trace of his terrible boyfriend from Hollander's body and mind.
With that thought, Ilya places his mouth over the bruise and bites.
+
The first game of the season proper Boston beats Montreal and after, Ilya fucks Hollander in his own bed.
Hollander is tense when they start out. Maybe like Ilya, he's thinking of the fact that this is the bed where he sleeps with his boyfriend. Ilya doesn't mind; enjoys, in fact, putting Hollander on his hands and knees and fucking the tension out of him until he can barely stay upright.
They collapse on the mattress in the aftermath, sticky with sweat. Ilya turns his head to watch Hollander as they catch their breath, feeling smug at the dazed expression on his face.
"Where is your boyfriend tonight?" Ilya asks.
There were no hickeys this time but he's still fairly certain Hollander's relationship status hasn't changed and he wants to find out for sure.
"At home," Hollander says. "His place, I mean. We don't actually live together, it would be a logistical nightmare to keep hidden. He spends some nights here, I spend some nights at his, we make it work."
"Does he know I'm here?"
Hollander glances at him. "Why?"
Ilya shrugs one shoulder. "Just curious."
"Oh." Hollander's expression twists, lips tugging in a frown. "No, he doesn't. He doesn't tell me about other people, either. I don't wanna know."
"Sound healthy," Ilya says dryly.
"Fuck you. Don't you need to have been in a relationship to know what a healthy one looks like?"
Ilya resists the urge to tell Hollander that his relationship is so dysfunctional, a blind dog could see it. He doesn't feel like being thrown out of bed just yet.
"What about me?" he asks instead. "Do I get to know if you fuck anyone else?"
Hollander looks at him, startled. "Who else would I fuck?"
Ilya blinks. "Who - anyone you want to? You are aware that you're Shane Hollander, yes?"
Hollander's cheeks go bright red. It's a nice color on him, Ilya thinks.
"I know I'm successful," he mutters, like that's not a massive understatement. "But it's not like I could go out to a bar and pick someone up, you know? You're the only person besides Brian who knows I'm gay. I don't know how to find someone else I could trust to keep it secret."
"Hm." Ilya understands; it's the same reason men have been such a rare indulgence for him. It's also a sad reality he has no interest in dwelling on. "I see. So I am, what, last resort?"
Hollander rolls his eyes. "Oh, fuck off. You've got a different girl hanging off your arm every week, your ego doesn't need any more stroking."
"Still keeping up with me in the tabloids, I see."
Hollander smacks him in the face with a pillow.
+
tag list (let me know in the replies if you want to be added): @quillquiver @mybloodstream-caffeine @tearsofshane @natmoose @knippsblips @myshanela @mariesthename @sage-herbal @hornylittlecoyote @starrrlve @catscatscats0104 @bluest-hyacinth @casualsheepcollection @shashanene @tafkarfanfic @thedragonflylover @livythewidow @kevinssecretplace4546 @moonrise-rebel @shanetism @2014federalbudget @buckitweride @illustriousprophetlillila @chaothur @silverssorrysoul @dandelionsinsunshine @mrv-l-blog @and-come-to-dust @psyche-dahlia @hollos @wannabetonthat @dropbear8118 @shanebug @vogeley @intersemiotic @hollanders-left-tit @toapoet @what-is-life-but-an-empty-void @riversidecacti @sunless-garden @princess-of-fangirls @shadowflame84 @anxietycroissant @poetic-mac-n-cheese @jizzinandsplizzin @shouldveagesago @tamtamwithicecream @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @steddieassheg0es @whoneedscanon
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first post for context / see the tag 'open relationship au' for more snippets. this is a continuation of the previous part so please read that first.
MHL Awards, 2014
Shane's mind goes fuzzy at the first touch of Rozanov's lips against his.
It's been racing all night, running through different potential scenarios in Rozanov's penthouse like plays on the ice. Drifting constantly back to Brian, to you should at least try. Reminding himself that he shouldn't feel guilty for wanting Rozanov or for planning to act on it, now that he's been given permission.
Then Rozanov kisses him and it all disappears. Shane doesn't know what he was worrying for, not with Rozanov's tongue licking at the seam of his mouth or his hand on the back of his head, heavy and warm.
Rozanov's other hand grabs his shirt, tugging. Shane goes and they stumble towards the bedroom, lips locked. They're still just kissing and Shane's dizzy with it anyway, already half-hard. Rozanov kisses like he's trying to devour him. Shane kind of wants to let him.
Has he ever been kissed like this? He can't remember.
They reach the bedroom and Shane feels Rozanov stumble for a moment before they both tumble onto the bed, Shane in Rozanov's lap.
His hands land on Shane's thighs, running over them and gently parting them further, shifting Shane in his lap so their hard-ons are pressed together. It's searing hot, even through four layers of fabric, and Shane can't help but grind down.
"Fuck," Rozanov mutters, breath hot on Shane's lips, fingers reaching up to hurriedly undo the buttons of Shane's shirt. "You want this?"
Shane nods, whining when Rozanov pulls his shirt off and buries his face in the crook of his neck, planting a series of wet kisses on overheated skin.
"How long?"
"Years," Shane gasps, hips still moving against Rozanov's. "I - fuck. Years."
He's never even admitted it to himself, how badly he's wanted Ilya Rozanov, in a way he didn't know he could want men who weren't his boyfriend. The words slip easily from his tongue now, the shame that's always accompanied that want a distant memory.
Rozanov groans and then his arm is around Shane, twisting them around and throwing Shane flat on the mattress. His body already blanketing Shane in the next moment, kissing every inch of skin within reach and hands groping roughly at his chest.
Shane's heart is pounding, blood rushing past his ears. He's never been thrown around like this before. Brian's in good shape but he's not strong like Rozanov, his body so big it feels like it dwarfs Shane's even though, logically, Shane knows they're about the same size.
"Can I fuck you?" Rozanov asks.
Shane's cock pulses, wetting his underwear with precum. "Yes. Please."
"So polite," Rozanov coos, giving Shane a quick peck on the lips.
Then he sits up, shrugging his shirt off and throwing it on the ground. He reaches for the zipper of Shane's pants and they finish undressing in a hurry, almost clumsy in their eagerness.
Shane expects Rozanov to start prepping him with the same hurried desperation but he takes his time, kissing a trail down the column of Shane's neck, down to his chest. His mouth closes around one nipple, teeth scraping it, and Shane can't hold back the animal whine that escapes his throat.
His head is spinning, world narrowed down to Rozanov's lips, his hands, his body on top of Shane's. Rozanov grabs his thighs, spreading them none too gently and Shane throws his head back, fingers twisting in the sheets.
He startles when Rozanov pushes his knees against his chest, tongue just barely grazing over Shane's hole before he startles away.
"Wh-what are you doing?" Shane chokes out.
He knows what Rozanov's doing, obviously. It's just - he's only seen it done in porn. He didn't realize it was something people did in real life. Brian's never done it, and Shane's never felt comfortable asking him to.
"Eating you out," Rozanov says, looking confused at Shane's confusion. "What do you mean, what am I doing?"
Shane swallows. "It's just - you don't think it's gross?"
"You're clean, yes?"
Blood rushes to Shane's cheeks. "Yeah, obviously."
"Okay, then what's the problem?" Something passes over Rozanov's face, impossible to read. "You haven't done this?"
Hot embarrassment spears through Shane.
"You will like it," Rozanov promises. "Pretty little hole like this, deserves nice treatment."
"Jesus, Rozanov," Shane laughs.
The laughter dissolves into a gasp as Rozanov dives back between his legs, pressing a wet, messy kiss right on Shane's hole. He licks it languidly, spearing his tongue and pushing inside.
Shane's skin prickles, limbs going fuzzy, cock hard and weeping against his stomach. Rozanov's tongue is so hot and wet, so wriggly, and it's unlike anything Shane's felt. He's enthusiastic, his drool coating Shane's inner thighs, the wet sounds of it echoing in the room much to Shane's embarrassment and arousal.
He doesn't even notice Rozanov has moved his hand until there's a finger pressing against his hole, wet with lube, sinking easily inside. It is quickly joined by a second, twisting, honing in on his prostate with unerring precision.
"So good for me sweetheart," Rozanov mutters, still pumping his fingers inside, fucking Shane with them. "You will take anything I give you, won't you?"
Shane nods mindlessly, moaning when he feels Rozanov's other hand grabbing his ass, spreading him wide open as he adds a third finger. He's watching, Shane realizes deliriously, watching his fingers disappear into Shane's hole over and over again, brushing his prostate on every pass.
He hears Rozanov say something in heated Russian and then he's pulling his fingers out so fast it almost hurts. Shane watches with lidded eyes as he leans over him, reaching for a condom in the bedside drawer. He's so hard it looks painful and so big it makes Shane's jaw ache to look at him. It's gonna be the biggest thing Shane's ever had inside him, the realization sending his head spinning.
Rozanov rolls on the condom. He grabs Shane's legs behind the knees, pushing them back and spreading them, the casual manhandling sending a bolt of heat through Shane's body.
"Okay?" Rozanov asks. His dick is brushing against Shane's inner thigh, the head catching on his rim and pushing just slightly, a merciless tease.
"Okay," Shane says, choking on his next breath when Rozanov starts pushing inside.
He's huge, splitting Shane apart relentlessly, working his way inside in tiny thrusts. It feels like half an eternity until he's all the way in, hips resting against Shane's.
Shane opens his eyes (when did he close them) and sees Rozanov staring down at him, lips slack, face red, looking wrecked already.
"God, Hollander," he pants. "So fucking tight, what are you, a virgin?"
For one delirious moment, Shane wishes he was. That Rozanov could have been the first man to have him like this. Shame rises in his chest in the next moment, threatening to choke him. What the fuck is he thinking?
Rozanov starts moving his hips and Shane's mind goes fuzzy again as his cock hits his prostate. He fucks into Shane in quick, shallow thrusts at first as he loosens up around his cock, going deeper and harder as Shane starts pushing into it, back arching.
He's fucking into Shane properly now, slamming his hips into Shane's so hard it almost hurts. Fucking the breaths out of Shane's chest, an embarrassing litany of soft 'ah ah ah's that Shane can't hold back. Rozanov leans in, nearly folding Shane in half as he kisses him messy and open-mouthed.
"That's it," Rozanov growls, "fucking take it."
And Shane does, and does, pleasure rolling over his body in waves, skin buzzing with it. Rozanov seems to be carving a new space for himself in Shane's body with each powerful thrust, laying claim to him. It's rough, animalistic in a way Shane didn't know sex could be for him.
The orgasm is building at the base of Shane's spine but it still catches him by surprise when it hits, crashing over him, cock spilling untouched between them.
"Are you - ?" Rozanov asks, slowing his thrusts.
Shane wraps his legs around his waist before he can pull out, still riding the aftershock. "Keep going."
Rozanov doesn't need to be told twice, pumping into Shane hard and uncontrolled, chasing his own pleasure now and making use of Shane's body to do it. It's too much, the sensation of his cock hammering Shane's prostate so intense it tips from pleasurable to painful.
Shane loves it.
A few more thrusts and then Rozanov's coming with a choked off groan, fingertips digging into Shane's skin so hard he knows it's gonna bruise.
Rozanov collapses next to him and Shane bites back a whine as his cock slips out, already missing the feeling of being full.
"Fuck," Rozanov sighs. "You have killed me, Hollander. I am dead."
Shane smiles helplessly, rolling over to tuck himself against Rozanov's side. Warmth blooms in his chest when Rozanov's arm settles around him, hand resting on his head and softly petting Shane's hair.
Rozanov hums. "Worth the wait?"
"Yeah," Shane says, and he's too fucked out but he thinks he should feel guilty about how much he means it.
Maybe opening up the relationship wasn't such a bad idea.
+
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first post for context / see the tag 'open relationship au' for more snippets. short scene this time but i will be continuing it in the next post from shane's POV.
MHL Awards, 2014
Ilya is on top of the fucking world.
Cup winner and MV fucking P. Those disastrous games in Sochi feel a lifetime away, like they happened to a different person. That Ilya Rozanov was a loser, this one is a fucking winner.
And to top it all off, Shane Hollander is on his way to his hotel room. At his own suggestion. Hollander always says yes when Ilya asks but he's never been the one to initiate a meeting between them before. And now he wants to meet in private.
Ilya spent the past week trying not to read into it but right now, he can't remember why. Obviously, Hollander came to his senses and dumped his loser boyfriend, and he's finally going to take Ilya up on his offer to fuck. It's the only thing that makes sense.
Maybe Ilya is a little bit blinded by his winner's high. But he's also right, he knows it. Tonight is for getting everything he's ever wanted, a feast to keep him sated through the lean summer weeks in Russia.
As if on cue, the penthouse door unlocks with a soft beep, Hollander slipping silently inside.
Ilya lets his eyes roam over him shamelessly. His bowtie is undone, the top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. There's a tension in his shoulders that seems to ease as the door closes behind him. When their eyes meet he holds Ilya's gaze for a moment before looking away, blush rising to his cheeks.
Ilya grins. "Well?"
"Congratulations," Hollander says. "It was.... well deserved."
It may be the least enthusiastic congratulations Ilya has received all night. It lights up Ilya's body anyway, settling warm in his chest.
"That hurt you to say, didn't it?"
Hollander snorts. "Yeah. But it's true."
Ilya hums. Takes a sip of his vodka - it's a good brand, Russian. Hollander would hate it, he thinks.
"You wanted to talk?" Ilya asks.
Hollander glances around the room. He takes a few reluctant steps inside, placing his suit jacket carefully over the back of the couch.
"Um," he says. Opens his mouth, closes it. "It's. Uh."
He's so nervous. It sets Ilya's own nerves on edge in excitement, a hunger sparking deep in his belly.
"We, uh, Brian and I, that is. We decided to open up the relationship."
Ilya blinks, his stomach sinking. He doesn't know what exactly 'opening up' a relationship means but it at least has to mean the relationship still exists. They haven't broken up.
Fucking fuck.
"Okay?" Ilya says, voice flat. "What is that?"
Hollander shrugs. His posture has gone stiff again. "It. It means we're still together, but we can also like... see other people. Or not see, because we're not dating anyone else but, uh. Fuck. Fuck other people."
Oh.
Ilya licks his lips.
This could work.
"And this is why you texted me?" he asks.
In a way, it's almost better. Hollander and his boyfriend breaking up and Ilya reaping the rewards would be enjoyable. Ilya having to work for that reward himself, getting the chance to fuck Hollander so good he forgets all about that loser who attached himself to him like a parasite before he was old enough to know better?
Well. Ilya loves a challenge.
"Yeah," Hollander admits. He's looking up at Ilya, holding his gaze despite his obvious nerves, eyes shining in the low ambient light. Ilya kind of wants to bite him. "I mean, if you still want."
"If I still want," Ilya repeats incredulously. "Hollander, if I ever don't want to fuck you, assume my dick is broken."
"Oh," Hollander says, pink lips forming a perfect little circle.
He's surprised by this, Ilya realizes. By being wanted in such an obvious way.
Ilya puts down the vodka. He walks closer to Hollander who watches him, eyes wide, breath caught in his chest, frame practically vibrating with tension. Ilya wants to fuck it out of him. Needs it. He needs to fuck Hollander so well, he not only forgets his ugly, stupid old boyfriend but never again looks surprised at being desired.
Ilya stops inches away and Hollander sways slightly into his space, as if unable to stop himself. Slowly, carefully, Ilya raises his hand, cupping the back of his neck. Hollander's breath hitches and Ilya leans in, catching it on his lips.
He tastes like victory.
+
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