Diggy Diggy One-Shots(Yogs and Hatfilms)

Sjipsy (NSFW)

TW: Blood, Smut, OT3

Title: ~Handleable~

It's nothing he can't handle, Nilesy decides, blood pouring from his nose and down his nice new shirt. He decides this while Hannah is holding a wad of paper towels to his face, and when he tries to tell her this, she asks him to repeat himself. His voice is thick with blood and phlegm and he says it, again, and she stares at him like she's still not sure she's heard correctly.

They're sitting in Hannah's living room, and Nilesy is getting blood all over the couch. This is nothing new. Nilesy has been getting blood all over Hannah's couch, routinely, since the beginning of the year, when he was punched in the mouth so hard his lip split and Hannah decided to take him home, instead of doing amateur doctoring outside the school building. (Just don't tell Lewis, love, she had said, and winked in a way that made Nilesy feel profoundly uncomfortable, though it had been a joke.)

"It's nothing I can't handle," Nilesy says, and Hannah makes an utterly confused expression at him. It's like he's not speaking English. She's holding a wad of red-soaked paper towels and staring and Nilesy frowns, tries again.

"I can deal with them," Nilesy says, "myself."

"They punched you in the face," Hannah says, as if it isn't obvious. She's still making that expression, like Nilesy has suddenly sprouted a second head.

"Er," Nilesy says, because it's true, they did. He looks at the wall in desperation. There's a picture of Hannah and her parents on vacation, with Hannah holding a really big fish and looking proud, and he looks away, still not meeting her eyes. "still, though, I mean, it's not a big deal, really--"

His voice rises an octave and he stops, swallowing. Hannah leans in and pats him on the shoulder, because he's going frantic. She's used to it. He takes a breath, laughs nervously. She shuffles a little closer on the couch, takes his hand.

Hannah's family is well-off, and it shows. Her couch is comfortable and nice and he's seen it with a plastic slip cover. He thinks about this, about the silliness of a slip cover for a couch, while he steadily does not look at Hannah. He feels like he's disappointing her, in some way, by not taking her help, when she offers it. Hannah gives him so much.

"They hate you, though," Hannah says, because she's blunt, and Nilesy winces. "Sorry, but..."

"I know," Nilesy says, because he does, "but, I was thinking I could, you know, try to handle it. Myself. Without you, or Zoey, or Rythian..."

Hannah stares at him for one beat, two beats, but she nods, finally. "Okay," she says, frowning, looking at Nilesy with worry in her eyes. He does his best to look back confidently.

--

He's stupid, Nilesy thinks, later on, lying in bed. He has a crumpled tissue of an entirely different kind in his hand and he groans in self-loathing and turns over, throwing it in the waste bin next to his desk. He is so, so stupid.

Here is the stupid thing, the really stupid thing: he has a crush on them. On both of them. On Sips and Sjin, the Sips and Sjin that bully him, the Sips and Sjin that shove his face into the walls, punch him, laugh at him. His stupid traitorous brain has thrown up all the wrong hormones and he has a gigantic, gigantic crush on Sips and Sjin.

He admires them, somehow. Together, they are deadly and perfect and cruel. It is obvious-- to everybody --that they are deeply, madly in love, and they do not hide it, and they spit in the face of others. And he loves them. Together.

When Sips punches him in the face there is a moment when knuckles collide with his eye or his nose or his mouth and pain blooms there and it feels (and this is weird, he knows, and wrong, not something he should tell his mom about) good. There is pain and white-hot heat and later on he thinks about it, he thinks about it in bed, about getting punched, and Sips punching him, and the way Sjin's mouth turns up when he sees it, and he goes through tissues like they're nothing.