#ficexchange

           Taehyung’s lips had long ago disappeared into your own, tongue swirling your bud, drawing out deep seated moans and explicit sounds only to be hushed by his hand, reaching up from where it had situated itself, deep within your walls, to silence you. You licked his fingers clean before he used the palm to hold your mouth shut, your sinful sounds too much for anyone passing by. He was quick, once your noises had been stifled, quick to circle your bud, suckling and spelling his name with his tongue, too quick, before you couldn’t hold back, coming on his tongue, the hums of his ministrations echoing in your over sensitive and longing walls. He stood up, eyeing your blissed out state before speaking.

           “If you don’t get up, you’re going to be late,”

           “What?” You stared at him, late for what?

           “If you don’t get up, you’re going to be late. Get up, Y/N, get up!”

           You sit bolt upright, glancing around your bedroom for the voice you swore you’d just heard. Listening intently, you hear nothing but the sound of your alarm clock, blaring a little too loudly and still too close to your ear. You flip your phone over and glare; if you don’t get your ass out of bed and dressed, you’re going to miss the congratulatory drinks you’re being forced to attend.

A party, thrown in your favor, to celebrate your new job. You had told Jimin you didn’t want a party or any real reason to use your newly obtained health insurance. No alcohol poisoning, no stomach pumping, nothing. Jimin, having never once listened to a request about a party, clearly ignored you. instead, planning a ‘kick back’ at your favorite bar: Wet Dream, a horrible dive that prided itself on the reputation of having so many nooks and crannies perfect for hooking up, or at least giving you something to fantasize about in your R.E.M. state.

           Tossing a leather jacket over your ensemble, you make quick time leaving your apartment and entering the bar. Thursday nights, the first unofficial night of the weekend at Wet Dream, is always Vodka Thursday. It’s the one day of the week that doesn’t rhyme and isn’t cutesy, but it’s the only day they could justify only serving the clear liquid and cocktails based on the libation.

The bar itself isn’t dark, a black soapstone countertop, with white wooden shelves, stools, a stunning combination of golden maple and black, curved metal work around the rounded seat, all come to life against neon signs and stripes of color. Jimin is great with lines and pigment; his bar just proves that perhaps, if he didn’t want to just tend and keep, he could find his footing in interiors.  

It’s a hot night, everyone coming out to pregame the weekend, shoulders bumping, and drinks spilling. It’s your least favorite environment, but there’s only so much you can do when it’s the one and only night Taehyung isn’t free.

           “You’re such a bitch,” Quinn laughs, handing you your first shot.

           “I am not, nor have I ever been, a bitch. A fucking bitch, sure, but a plain bitch? Never,” You cheer and toss it back, the burn so good you don’t mind the instant need to cough and grimace.

           “You’re so afraid of seeing him that you picked the one night he isn’t free,”

“I picked the bar he likes, though. If I was a real bitch, I’d pick a date he could come and a bar he doesn’t like, or vice versa.”

           “Fair, but you still are avoiding him.”

           You roll your eyes. How many fucking times can you have this conversation? “He isn’t interested!”

           “That’s bullshit!”

           “How would you know? What’s one situation where Taehyung has said that he wants anything with me besides friendship?” You question.

           “Loose lips sink ships,” Is her response.

You scoff, rolling your eyes in indignation. “I had the dream, again.”

           “Again?”

           Your glass clatters on the bar. “Again,”

           “What is that, the third time this month?” Quinn questions.

           “Something like that,”

           “Did it go further?” She’s smirking, how deeply does she want your dream to push you over the edge? How far does she want REM Taehyung to push you? Further than you can imagine.

           “No, it didn’t. But this time, I was taking a nap. Not even in full sleep mode!”

           “Damn,” She pauses to sip her drink. “Dream Taehyung can get it.”

           “Shut up. It’s fucked up, and I need to get over him.”

           “He’s your best friend,” Namjoon argues. He’s sidled up next to you, shoulder nudging you, tipping his glass before sipping the liquid.

           “You two are my best friends,”

           Namjoon chuckles. “Tae’s your best friend, you pierced your ears the same. You can’t get rid of him or ignore him.”

           “I’m just glad he isn’t coming tonight, that I fully do not have the energy for.” You are glad, relieved even, that you don’t have to worry about the butterflies in your stomach morphing into giant moths taking flight or the lump in your throat threatening to toss up your entire dinner (leftover Thai food bitch). If Taehyung were here, this night wouldn’t be about you and your success, but about your unending crush on your best friend. The same guy you, yes, have matching piercings with, and the same guy who, yes, held your hand when you got not one or two tattoos, but most of the ones that adorn your skin. The swallow beneath your clavicle proving the most painful, next to your homage to Sailor Moon on your thigh. Taehyung, for what it’s worth, helped design a few of your pieces, him being the true artist that he is.  

           “Shots!” Jimin yells, moving through the growing crowd of patrons, a tray of booze awaiting you.

           “I’m not paying for these,” you tell him.

           “First, it’s your party; of course you’re not. Second, it’s my bar,”

           “Great, so all drinks are on you tonight?” Quinn winks, a blush erupting on Jimin’s cheeks.

           “Within reason,” Jimin winks back, their recent triste into friends with benefits proving to be the stuff of real relationships.

Namjoon raises his shot glass. “To Y/N, a new job, better insurance, and more money. What an accomplishment.”

           “To Y/N!” Jimin, Quinn, and a few other random people in the bar cheer. You cheer too, happy for your own success, before tossing back another shot of vodka.

           “I hate you,” You yell. Jimin disappearing behind the bar pays your mini tantrum no mind.

           “I know you don’t. When do you start again?”

           “Woof, Monday,”

           “Got your outfit picked out?” Namjoon questions.

           “Fuck you, and no. haven’t started thinking about it,”

           “You should; preparation leads to success,” Namjoon tells you. He’s nursing his own drink, some beer-vodka concoction Jimin had spent months perfecting just so that Namjoon would have to order it and drink it. He even named it after some deep-seeded secret between them that neither would spill.

           “I will, Namjoon, don’t you worry. Somewhere between enjoying my last day off and recovering from my massive hangover, I’ll lay out my pantsuit,”

           “Don’t forget your pussy bow,” It’s a comment that wouldn’t catch you so off guard if the person who said it hadn’t appeared like an apparition, voice low and gruff from somewhere to your left. You turn, eyes trying to find the voice, hoping it isn’t the man, the dream legend, the ultimate spank bank, who in dream world can make you cum almost instantaneously.

           “Congratulations,” Taehyung smirks, quirking an eyebrow before taking a shot.

           “Thanks, Tae,” Is all that comes out, a gentle squeak barely audible in the chaos in the bar.

           “I like your earrings,” He says. this time, his smirk is gone, replaced instead with a wide grin. He turns his head towards you, where he’s got the same three piercings, adorned in the same three gems you’d bought each other last year for Christmas.

           “Ha, samesies,” You giggle, desperately reaching for whatever is in the glass Jimin is handing you.

           “I’m gonna make the rounds, but we’ll catch up?” Taehyung asks.

           “Yeah, yeah, sounds good,” You nod. Taehyung places a kiss on your cheek before he disappears into the throngs of people.

           “Fuck!” You yell.  

           “Aye,” Namjoon scolds.

           “You’re so sexually frustrated, just go fuck him,” Quinn suggests.

           “Yah, we can’t listen to any more of you guys’ whining. We get it, you’re horny for each other. Just fuck already,” Jimin says, turning his back to tend another customer. You turn to Quinn, then Namjoon, both avoiding your gaze.

           “Tell me,” You request.

           “No,” Namjoon says.

           “You have to tell me,”  

           Quinn laughs. “No, we don’t,”

           “You know?”

           “Didn’t I already tell you that he wants you?” Quinn asks.

           You stare at them, mouth agape, mind trying to process what it is they’ve just told you.  “This is the special broach when Ross gets on the plane to China,”

          “What?” Jimin asks.

          “Friends,” Namjoon answers. “Ross bought Rachel this pin that looked like one her grandmother had, and when Rachel opened it, Chandler made a comment about how  Ross always buys the woman  he loves an extravagant gift. Carol got a ridiculous duck,  Rachel a pin.”

          “The point?” Quinn asks.

          “That we just spilled the beans on Taehyung’s feelings,” Namjoon finishes his drink, glares at Jimin, and moves behind the bar to pour himself a glass of water.

          “Oh, so we’re Chandler?”

          “Yes, babe,” Jimin smiles and sets a glass of water in front of Quinn.

          “I just didn’t think you were fucking serious. I mean, you three say a lot of shit, all the time,” You’re still not certain it isn’t the rush of booze in their bloodstreams, that this isn’t some sick twisted lie to get you to stop dreaming about Taehyung’s head buried between your thighs.

           Quinn shakes her head. “Of course, we’re serious,”

           “Well, snap my neck,” You mutter, sitting back and staring at the empty space in front of you. “You know, maybe my dream was trying to tell me something.”

           “Like what?” Namjoon inquires.

           “Like my friends are liars, and I should never divulge any secrets to them,”

           “Stop whining; you want to fuck him, you’re already best friends. Stop messing around and just fucking do it already,” Jimin leans across the bar and to kiss Quinn quickly before he’s called to help another customer.

           “That’s not how it works, I don’t just decide I want to fuck him and disappear into one of the cubbies in the hallway and do him here and now.” You argue.

           “Why not?” Namjoon asks.

           “Because that’s insane. You guys are fucking insane,”

           “Maybe we’re just saying what you’re thinking,”

           “Or maybe, you and Jimin are too far in love that you want to shove it down the rest of our throats,”

           “Namjoon, are we shoving it down your throat?”

           “That’s not what Namjoon wants shoved in his throat,” It’s a comment that flies out of your lips before you can stop it, and lucky for you, Namjoon just stares at you, then winks.  

           “Oh, believe me, she knows,” Is his response.

           “Woof. I need air,” You stand up, pushing in your stool and heading for the back.

          Your feet take you towards Jimin’s office, where you can slip past the door and into the night, fresh air mussed with cigarette smoke and somewhere, a faint brush of weed, and just breathe.

          Had all your friends been right this entire time? It’s a thought you can’t shake, gnawing on it like you gnaw on your nails, biting them to the beds.  Your feet, thankfully, don’t stick to the floor as you trudge back, back past the couples making out, the ones sharing whispers and hopes, the ones unsure where this will go, but hoping it lasts longer than tonight. You recognize the desperation and hope tied in their movements, the fleeting feeling of love, unrequited and passionate.

           Stepping towards the door, your arm is grabbed by a strong hand, and you’re pulled swiftly into Jimin’s office.

           “What the fuck?” You yell, lips quickly covered by a rough hand. Your eyes are wild, searching for the person who has yanked you in, adjusting to the abject darkness of the room.

           “Calm down, Y/N, it’s me,” Taehyung’s chuckling, laughing at your fear.

           “Damn it, Tae, why?”

           He’s smiling, beaming that he pulled off his ‘surprise’. “I wanted to get you alone,”

           “No one has used that phrase since Robin Thicke wrote it into a song, and Glee performed it, objectively better than he ever could. God bless and keep Emmy award winner, Darren Criss,” You ramble.

           “Why are you being so-

           “Bitchy?” You interject.

           “I, yeah. Tonight’s about you, about your promotion,” Taehyung is still standing close, too close. His cologne wafts through your nose, pulling you in. He takes your hands in his, genially playing with your fingers, intertwining them, swinging your hands, thumb drawing circles against the back of your hand.

           “Why are you here tonight?” You whisper. The lump in your throat that you had so hoped to avoid is back, larger than before.

           “What do you mean?”

           “You usually have a meeting, every Thursday,”

           Taehyung flushes, “Why did you pick a Thursday for your party?”

           “It was the only –

           “No, it wasn’t,” He interrupts.

           “Fine, I didn’t want you to come, okay? That’s why,”

           “Why not?” Taehyung’s hurt and confused, but he doesn’t take his hands out of yours.

           “Why are you here?”

           “One question at a time”

           “It’s my party,” You argue, “I get to know first. Why are you here?”

           Taehyung moves his gaze, first to your intertwined fingers, then slowly up your arms, ghosting over your collarbones until they reach your eyes, flickering down to your lips, where they stay. He moves so slowly, calculatingly, tilting his head, his hands following the pattern set by his eyes. He rests his palms at the base of your neck, fingers reposing against your cheeks. He leans in, eyes fluttering shut, nose brushing against yours, lips meeting so softly it feels like a dream.

           But it isn’t a dream because, in your dreams of Taehyung, you’ve never kissed him. You’ve never felt his hands cupping your face, cradling your head as his lips move with yours. In your dreams, he’s never delicately parted your lips with his tongue, or bit down on the plumpy flesh of your bottom lip. In your dreams, Taehyung has never pulled away and spoken to you.  

           “I’m here because I can’t be your friend anymore. I want more,need more,” Taehyung’s voice is low, a dull growl. His features are striking in the dimly lit office, the streetlights and neon signs the only light, casting fantastical shadows against his chiseled jaw and dazzling his midnight eyes.

           “I didn’t want you here because it hurts.I can’t continue to be your best friend when I want so much more.”

           “How much more?” Taehyung whispers.

           “All of it, as much as you want to give me,”

           “I need you to tell me,”

           “How much do you want?” You ask.

           “I want to be your boyfriend.”

           “I want you to be my boyfriend,”

           It’s all Taehyung needs to hear, all he needs to bring his lips to yours again, hands moving down your sides, resting firmly on your ass, using his leverage to pull you closer. Your hands start pushing his jacket off his shoulders, oscillating between tugging him closer and unbuttoning his jeans.

           “Ugh, baby,” Taehyung moans, your hand grazing his already hard cock through his pants. You take another pass, slowly moving your hand up and down the outline of his dick. Contained in his pants, it’s impressive, and you’re dripping already. You hadn’t intended to soak your jeans, at least not this early, but going commando and having Taehyung growling under your touch is certainly doing the trick.

           “Yeah?” You ask, hand daring to reach underneath the thin layer of his boxers, cupping him. He’s impossibly bigger in your hand than you imagined, all those filthy dreams, and not once in the dreams had you made it this far. In your dream you never got to hold his dick, swiping precum from the tip, bringing it to your lips.

           “Baby,” Taehyung growls, eyes watching as you paint the liquid across your lips before swiping your tongue languidly against your bottom lip. “Fuck,” Taehyung’s hips rut into nothing, another hearty moan leaving his lips.

           “Mm,” You moan, a wink dropping as you bring your top lip into your mouth, teeth dragging slowly against the flesh. Who are you? Is the only question your mind is asking. Well, who are you, and who do you think you are? This is the you, you used to be around Taehyung. Sexy, confident, self-assured, taking no shit, and going for what you want. It’s the ease you used to have, before you started falling for him, before the crush, before the dreams. This is you, and fuck, you’ve missed her.

           Taehyung intertwines his hand with your hair, tilting your head to look up at him. He kisses you again, savoring his taste on you, and uses his free hand to unbutton your jeans.

          “Are you going commando?”

          He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he taps your hips to lift and guide your pants down your legs. Your shoes, still on, hold them up, and Taehyung gapes at you. Fully exposed, Taehyung can take you in, first with his eyes, then with his fingers, and finally, with his lips and tongue.

          You watch, eyelids slowly closing as your wildest fantasy consumes you.

          He’s more skillful than Dream Taehyung. He takes his time, tracing each lip, suckling your bud, teasing you with his tongue slowly slipping into your entrance, slowly pulling out your liquids before he settles, lips and tongue applying pressure to your throbbing bud.

          “Fuck,” Your voice is more of a shout than a moan, getting drowned out underneath the loud beat of whatever house music Jimin has playing.

          “Now, now,” Taehyung stops, fingers tracing your lips, toying with your entrance. He dips one finger in, his own moan eclipsing your own, before pulling out and slipping two fingers in. With both coated in your wetness,           Taehyung brings them to your lips, and you freeze.

          “Are you okay? We can sto-

          Taehyung can’t finish his thought, your hot mouth sucking on his fingers proving to be a full distraction. He groans as your tongue wraps around his digits, tongue splitting them before moving up and down again.

          “Baby, I know I didn’t finish but I -

          “Condom, now,” You order.

          Taehyung looks around before rifling through Jimin’s jacket. In the pocket, he finds not one, but two condoms.

          “For later?” He winks.

          “I have condoms at my place,”

          “Me too,” Taehyung doesn’t waste time opening the foil and rolling it on himself. “Scoot,”

          You move your hips to the edge of the desk, ass cheeks hanging off, hands resting on a stack of papers behind you. “We have to be quick, Jimin’s going to come looking for us,”

           “That’s fine, I can take my time with you when we get home,” Taehyung steps closer to you, and your hands reach in front of you to stroke him. “Fuck, you ready?”

           “Yeah, fuck, yes,”

           Taehyung nods, guiding the head of his cock past your entrance. Your eyes start closing, and Taehyung stills. “Watch baby, watch.”

           “Tae,”

           “You have to, watch us, together,” He requests. You nod, the whimper leaving your lips as he continues to push into you becoming overpowering.

           “Taehyung,” You moan, hands reaching up, tangling in his hair, pulling him to you. your open kisses muffle the sounds leaving both your lips, but don’t hold a candle to the sickening sounds of Taehyung pumping in and out of you, speed quickening as the fear of getting caught increases.

           “Fuck, so tight,” He growls, nibbling your earlobe, tongue tracing each of the studs in your twin piercings.

           “So big, fuck, harder,” Your hands need to be on his flesh, your lips craving the saltiness of his sweat. Leaning forward, you take his darkened nipple between your teeth, sucking and teasing as he continues to plow into you.

           “Wanna make you cum,” He mumbles, his intention clear, made even more difficult by your continued attack on his chest. You’re kissing to bruise, to leave marks, to finally claim him as not only your best friend, but your lover. “Baby, can I?”

           “Don’t have time, Tae, don’t have time,” You say. “Need you to cum on me,”

           “On you?” His hips stutter, coming to a near halt.

           “On me, on my stomach, wanna watch you come undone,” You explain, panting as you try not to lose the heat of the moment.

           “Fuck,” He whispers, pulling you of you and tossing the condom in the trash. You sit back on your elbows, a makeshift kickstand supporting your head and neck, feet not quite reaching the floor. You pull the fabric of your top up, going braless, much like going commando, is proving to be the best decision you made tonight.

           Taehyung pants above you, and you reach a hand between your folds, teasing your swollen clit, seeking the release Taehyung so desperately wants to give you. He watches, eyes focused on your body, hips jerking forward, trying without success to find more contact, to be wrapped in your succulent walls again.

           “Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna cum,” Taehyung gives one warning call before he unleashes his load on you, hot ropes of cum coating your stomach, pooling in your belly button, sliding down your sides to the desk below.

           “RIP me,” You whisper, finger wiping a strip of cum off your skin. You bring it to your lips, making a full show of licking it off your fingers. Taehyung, still recovering from his high, doesn’t think twice before his tongue is on your skin, licking his own cum from your body, actively slurping his juices from your belly button. You gasp, staring at the top of his head, waiting expectantly for his eyes to meet yours. When they do, you’re met with a Cheshire grin, before his lips are once again, demanding yours. Tasting him on him is quite possibly the sexiest thing you’ve encountered, and fuck if you don’t want to explore this filth with him in the confines of your bedroom.

           A knock on the door, and another, soon gathering speed and volume, pulls him away from you.

           “Are you fucking on my desk?” Jimin yells.  

           “This isn’t what we had in mind when we said go for it!” Quinn echoes.

           “You’re just jealous because we got here first,” Taehyung calls. His damp forehead rests against yours, labored breathing bringing forth giggles.

           “Like we didn’t fuck in there first!” Jimin cackles, the audacity of the statement making both laugh a little too hard.

           “Good, then you can clean up!” Taehyung shouts, his statement deafening their laughter.

           “This isn’t a dream, right?” You question, hands reaching for Taehyung, pulling him back to the space between your legs.

           He shakes his head. “No, baby, it isn’t,”

           “Thank god, I cannot have another fucking wet dream about you.”

           “What?” Taehyung pulls away, his hair is curling at the ends where sweat meets the black locks.

           “Yeah, I have this reoccurring wet dream about you, it’s dumb, but it’s haunted me for months,” You explain, pulling your pants back up.

           “Can I be honest?”

           “I mean you just came on my stomach and then licked it up, so yeah, be honest,”

           “I’ve been having wet dreams about you for far longer than I want to admit,” Taehyung smirks. “Filthy, nasty, dreams,”

           “Is that why you check me out?”

           He flushes. “I don’t always.”

           “No, but you have. Is it all for your spank bank?” You’re laughing, you too have saved pictures of him for your own usage later.

           “Maybe,”

           “Huh,”

           “Tell me this,” Taehyung starts, kissing your forehead, then your cheeks. “Is real life better than your dreams?”

           “Snap my neck already, would you?” You groan.

           “Is that a yes?”

           “Yes, Taehyung, you in real life is far more satisfying than any wet dream I could ever have about you,” You answer. “Now, will you take me home so I can experience more of you?”

Roman was also excited, content, happy, in true dreamland. He was excited to meet new kids, to talk to them, play in the recreation time, make friends!

Logan was more excited about learning than anything, but it didn’t stop him from speaking about the amazing things they would know about now that they were actually studying.

The three sides were more excited than ever, but something in the air, inside Thomas’ mindset, seemed wrong. Without knowing what it was, they tried to ignore the dense feeling surrounding them, making them uneasy. That was a day to celebrate! To be happy! There was no reason to worry!

But apparently, there was a lot of reason to worry.

Dark thoughts started to enter their mind.

What if they don’t like us?

What if they don’t think we are cool?

What if they think we are stupid?

They frowned, upset and confused as to where those thoughts were coming from. They looked at each other, noticing all of them were listening to that.

That’s when they realized those words weren’t coming from their heads.

There was someone else in the room.

Turning their heads around, they saw a new figure sitting on the stairs of Thomas’ mindset.

Someone they had never seen before…

 “Who’s that?” Logan whispered, eyes wide, scared. Patton shook his head, just as scared, both standing together and behind Roman, who was just as confused but a bit less afraid. The figure by the stairs was sitting down, curled up around itself, hoodie over its head. It had a humanoid form, so probably it wasn’t a nightmare. But it was dark and weird, so it wasn’t a dream either.

Unless…

“State your propose, creature of darkness!” Roman squealed, raising his wood sword, chin up, knowing he could protect the other two if he had to. The figure didn’t move, but the wall and floor around it started to get darker in color. “Speak!”

It stayed quiet.

“M-maybe we should talk to them” Patton mumbled, still clearly scared, but letting go of Logan, who immediately gripped against Roman, looking over his shoulder. “Hey? Buddy?” he mumbled, walking slowly towards the figure, raising his hand. “H-hello? We are friends… we won’t hurt you…”

“Unless you hurt us!” Logan corrected, before squeaking and hiding behind Roman again. Patton frowned at him and then turned back to the figure, trying to smile besides his fears.

“We won’t hurt you… come on…” he said, stepping forward, into the darkening floor. As he did so, however, he felt sad and anxious thoughts come up to his head and he squeaked, stepping back and making Roman rush forward.

“Did it hurt you?!” he asked, frowning and holding Patton’s hand while staring at the figure. “I will hurt you if you hurt my friends!”

“Roman no!” Patton whined, holding the hand that held the sword, pouting to him and making Roman frown. “They didn’t hurt me… they just… I-I don’t know!”

“If you don’t know you shouldn’t touch it!” Logan said, frowning deeply and gripping onto Roman as he approached. “Roman is the curious one!”

“You want me to touch it?” Roman squeaked, and Logan whined.

“Yes!” he said loudly and Roman frowned, clearly scared. As they argued, Patton walked closer to the figure, swallowing back his fear and anxiety and slowly touched its shoulder, biting his lip. The moment he did, he felt confusing thoughts in his head and a troubling in his heart that made him step back. But at the same time, the thing seemed to calm down, the walls and floor coming back to their normal color, the black disappearing, leaving a small boy with dark clothes and shaking limbs.

“Wait… Who is this?!” Roman asked, finally seeing what was going on and approaching. Logan followed right behind, staring over Roman’s shoulder at the small, curled up boy in the corner of the stairs. Patton hummed and moved closer again, touching his shoulder, smiling when he flinched.

“It’s okay… buddy?” he mumbled. “We won’t hurt you… turn around”

The boy took a moment, but slowly he looked over his shoulder. And he was… well… not half as scary as Roman and Logan had first imagined. He was just like them, just like Thomas, but with bangs over his eyes and bags under them.

“Another one of us?” Roman asked, confused, and Logan nodded slowly, humming.

“Seems so…”

“Hello. I’m Patton” the boy said, smiling widely as he moved his hand closer to this new boy. He flinched. “It’s okay… I won’t hurt you, promise. Just come with me, tell me your name”

The boy took a few seconds, but slowly turned around and stood up, even though he was still trying to make himself look small.

“A-Anxiety” he mumbled, and Logan frowned.

“Anxiety? That’s your name?” he asked, and made the new boy flinch, which made Patton slap Logan’s arm and frown.

“Quiet Logan” he growled and then turned to Anxiety, raising his hand for him. “Come on Anx. It is a pleasure to know you”

Anxiety bit his lip and slowly reached for the hand, taking it and moving closer to Patton, making him smile widely.

“So…” Roman mumbled, tilting his head and raising his eyebrow. “You are… another side… I see” he mumbled and put away his wood sword, which made Anxiety relax way more. “You look a bit too black though…”

“I-I’m…” he started, but then froze again, whimpering when he looked towards the door. The rest did too, noticing that Thomas was now moving into the car to leave to middle school. His first day. “No no no” he whimpered, his surroundings getting black again. Roman frowned and Logan stepped back in fear, but Patton pouted and hugged the new kid, holding him close.

“It’s okay! It will be fun, I promise” he said, smiling and kissing his forehead. The kiss made Anxiety blush, but at least he felt calmer, warmer. “In lunchtime you will have all time in the world to tell us about you! For now let’s just relax and watch the car go by, yeah?”

“Yeah…” he mumbled and smiled shyly, holding onto Patton. “Thank you Morality…”