Commute day again! Today’s unedited train snippet is based on horrifying recent events in my own life.
I think it falls roughly within the fluffwhump category.
This was going to be a Gordon-centric fic but he didn’t quite experience the level of indignation I felt was merited, so big brother had to step up.
Hereby claiming “smirk” for Fluffember
Stress Relief
✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️
Scott stood frozen in the middle of the room and felt the last shreds of sanity slip from his fingertips.
How could this have happened?
It had disrupted his understanding of the universe, as if reality itself had finally betrayed him.
The only anchor to his old life, the innocent, trusting life he had lived up until this juncture, was Gordon. His beloved little brother who was writhing on the floor at his feet, shaking and crying…
And howling with laughter.
At him.
Scott opened his mouth to raise an objection to his brother’s frivolous attitude to this disaster but no words came out. Instead, he coughed and spat foul tasting green slime on to the carpet.
It glittered offensively at him.
“H….hooooow?” He croaked desperately.
No explanation was forthcoming - the slippery little fish had rolled on to his stomach and was beating the floor with his fist. Scott spat more slime at him. He probably deserved it.
Wait, did he? Had this been a prank?
Bewilderment was shunted aside by anger.
“GORDON!! WHAT DID YOU DO?”
His brother looked up at him, eyes streaming:
“It wasn’t me, bro” Gordon gasped then bit on his own fist in an apparent attempt to regain some semblance of control “you’re not supposed to squeeze them that hard”.
A tiny seahorse figure fell from the end of Scott’s nose and Gordon dissolved into another fit of giggles.
Scott looked down at the slimy rubbery mess in his clenched fist and frowned, the confusion returning with backup.
“But isn’t… isn’t that… the… ENTIRE POINT?”
He waved the remains of Gordon’s puffer fish toy to emphasis his point and gloop splattered on to the ceiling. To join the rest of the gloop on the ceiling.
“It’s a stress ball! You squeeze the indestructible ball, it remains indestructible and you feel less stressed afterwards! THAT’S WHAT IT’S FOR!!”
Scott’s voice teetered on the edge of a whine.
“Yeah but none of them are really that robust big bro, particularly not in the face of Mr Big Cheese Businessman levels of stress.”
Uhoh. Scott looked down at the brand new, ridiculously expensive designer suit his PA had quietly handed him when he’d turned up ten minutes before the board meeting fresh off the back of a muddy rescue.
The suit oozed at him.
It was apt really. Some of the board members had oozed too. He’d just been sharing some of the ludicrous highlights with his little brother (who was always pleasingly sympathetic on the topic of corporate hogwash) and had absent-mindedly picked the actionably-falsely-advertised item off his brother’s bedside table to toss from hand to hand as he ranted.
He blinked rapidly as something slid into his field of vision. Gordon stood and gently plucked a tiny glittery shark from his commander’s eyebrow.
“Let’s get you cleaned up shall we?” Sympathetic tone and matching facial expression were being masterfully deployed.
“NOT my room. This stuff will ruin my nice carpet.” He sagged. “Honestly Gordo, it was such a tiny thing… how is there so much of this… ick?”
Brown eyes twinkled as Gordon smirked knowingly. “One of the mysteries of the cosmos, big brother.”
🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑
Gordon steered his slimy brother into his own en-suite and closed the door behind him, turning away to survey the sparkling chaos his brother had created.
There was a pause. Gordon could hear the shower switch on and some indistinct muttering from the other side of the door. Then a cough, followed by a snort, followed by a bark of laughter.
Gordon smiled to himself. Maybe not quite what the designer had planned, but the little toy might have had its intended effect after all.
