. : HELLACIOUS : .

The Friend

A week lumbered along like a herd of bison.

Kash's schedule consisted of sighting Roz, chugging ice water, and curling up in bed. They burrowed underneath their quilt mountain and kept the room at an icebox chilled temperature. The outside world could only be avoided for so long.

"You been looking a little low, love." Roz mentioned with concern. "Feeling feverish? I can make you an omelette if you want."

Kash squeaked. "I'm fine. Thanks!"

Fine fine fine fine fine.

Allfine.

If only.

Even Billy noticed Kash's melancholy.

"You better wipe that nasty look off your face before I knock it off, D'Jinn. Do I need to break out the muzzle again?"

The D'Jinn spat mucus in Billy's sweet tea when he wasn't looking, suddenly remembering what gave them the will to get up every morning and endure as he drank it.

Hate was a familiar patch. They sewed it on their sleeve so tight it'd take bolt cutters to be free from it, and even then the threads would remain buried underneath the fabric.

It didn't leave room for much else.

But it left enough.

Just enough.

Who wants a heart?

Who wants mine?

Call a spade a spade, Kash. You love this guy.

Do I?

I do.

Gosh, do I.

And by all accounts, it seems like he feels the same.

If he hasn't done a complete 180 since last week, of course.

...No, he wouldn't.

He's not Billy. He's everything he's not.

You're more than a list of what you do and don't deserve. You're a mind. You're a body.

You're smart and strange and sweet and sexual. Oh so sexual. A damn sex furnace. Cosmic heat on legs. Erotic magic. You're basically a walking manifestation of earthly ecstasy and orgasmic eros personified-

Kash flushed.

I get the picture. I got it.

The D'Jinn kicked off their quilts and exposed their stomach to the chill.

In light of the revelation, Kash tiredly (excitedly) threaded a needle and secured their newest patch. Hate and dread overshadowed it by far, but the heart still gleamed brightly from their collar like all things fresh and good.

.:.:.:.

Morning surfed in on a warm, pink breeze.

Kash's first thought was to stop by Xander until they remembered it was Saturday.

No school. He's probably home.

Does he even want to see me after the way I left?

Doesn't matter. I gotta pay him back.

Undeterred, Kash followed Malcolm's bonds into Black Avenue's core. His unique signature played against the whole of the city, serenading Kash like sirens to sailors. They stepped over the flowering weeds and overgrowth into the mercifully vacant duck pond.

Their objective was reclining on the Mustang, same as last week.

...He waited.

The only sign he'd even moved was his heather grey sweater, the cup of coffee resting beside him, his fresh shave.

The D'Jinn mourned the loss of his facial hair. They wondered what inspired him go back to the razor before deciding they should just ask.

Friends ask each other questions.

Friends trust each other with their vulnerabilities.

Friends don't lie about their situation and deny help.

Then again, friends don't passionately declare themselves expecting an immediate response either, do they?

Oh my God.

First of all, friends fucking suck it up and say hello.

Kash silently sidled up beside the front wheel, hands glued to their sides.

No touching.

You break it, you buy it.

"I thought you were gone for good this time." Malcolm said, not facing them.

The D'Jinn eyed his sullen profile. Their stomach churned. There was no point denying it. Malcolm Ijuba was lovely. Gorgeous. Swell.

From any angle.

From every angle.

"Not quite."

The glare washed out his lenses. "Hmmm."

"Hmmm?"

"Hm." He gave them a curt nod. "Well, I'm glad. That you're still in one piece."

"Worrying about me isn't going to make this any better." They said. "So, stop."

They winced at how harsh it sounded. Like they were blaming Malcolm for daring to care. If it bothered him he didn't show.

I can't do this to him.

He's got too much going for him.

"I know. I've been thinking about this for a while now."

His shoulders bunched up with nerves, radiating concern.

He wanted to help Kash. That much was obvious.

But what astounded them was that he wanted to be with Kash.

It was unthinkable.

He doesn't know what he's signing up for.

...Do I even know?

A grieved sigh followed their gradual acceptance. It was simultaneously the easiest and the hardest thing they'd ever done.

End it. Now.

Abort! Abort!

"Where do we go from here?" He leveled Kash with his sad gaze. "What do you want from me?"

TERMINATE!

"I want to forget you exist. And for you to do the same with me. Move on, Ijuba. If you know what's good for you."

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

...which is what they would've said if they hesitated any longer.

But at the last second the words speedily rearranged themselves and bled out of their mouth in a relieved parade.

"...I'm gonna say sorry in advance." They whispered. "I'm new at this. No experience whatsoever."

For the first time that morning Malcolm fully faced them. A tiny cut was healing on his chin.

Shaving accident. Shaky hands. Sleepless nights.

"Honey, what're you apologizing fo-"

They kissed him.