(context for watcher/listener!sausage can be found in the “videos” tag on my blog if you want it, but this ficlet can be read without said context)
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“Y’know, of all the Hermits I was expecting to be pulling me into a dark corner tonight, I did not expect you to be first, Grian! I love the initiative!”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Grian says in a voice near a hiss. He’s got Sausage by the wrist, leading him into a small area of the upper floor of the tavern in Sanctaury that does look like it was built for the exact purpose Sausage is implying. Grian decides to ignore that as well.
“What are you doing here?” Grian’s straight to the point. He always has to be, with these Things, if he doesn’t want to get trapped in a loop of slant rhyming pleasantries.
“What do you mean?” Sausage asks, shaking his wrist out of Grian’s tight grip and leaning comfortably against the wall. “This is where I live. It’s my home. If anything, I should be asking you mysterious strangers what you’re doing here, but I’m sure you’ve heard that question enough for one day.”
“You know exactly what I mean.” Grian crosses his arms and tries his best not to look petulant, but he sure feels like it. “I thought They’d given up on trying to snatch me back, so why would They send you of all people? What’s your game?”
Sausage laughs, honest to god laughs, like he can’t believe Grian’s even asking him such a question. Grian thinks it’s a reasonable question, in this scenario, but what he thinks and what’s reasonable rarely seems to matter with these things.
“They didn’t send me,” Sausage looks him up and down in that way that makes Grian have to physically stop himself from curling inwards. This is why he never talks to Them. “Nobody sends me anywhere, they don’t tell me what to do and I like it that way! I just do my own thing. Isn’t that what you’re doing?”
“No you’re not! You’re not- you can’t be! That’s not how this works!” Grian begins to notice that he’s no longer whisper-shouting and starting to just-normal-shout and takes a deep breath, trying not to draw the attention of his friends enjoying themselves on the floor below. And, realistically, in the other dark corners Sausage seems to have built into this place.
“That’s exactly how this works. You didn’t think you were the only person who’d left, did you?”
Grian opens his mouth, closes it, and thinks. In hindsight… yeah, he had kind of assumed he’d been the only person who’d left. Not for lack of trying, probably- but They’d tried for so long to get him back, kept him closely surveilled even when They’d accepted he was gone- surely some people had caved to that pressure eventually. When there was no sign They’d ever let up, ever let you go… he could understand eventually letting it overtake you.
“Did- did you leave, too?” Grian doesn’t remember the last time he saw Sausage’s face. He didn’t know him back then, of course. He probably would’ve connected the man with the person Pearl so often spoke about sooner. But he knows it’s been a long time, maybe even longer than the last time Grian had gone There. He doesn’t think Sausage had been There, that day. This might explain why.
“Eh, not quite?”
“What-“ Grian flails, both mentally and with his arms a bit. “What do you mean not quite?”
“Exactly what I said! I was never- it’s complicated, y’know?”
“Explain. Now.”
“Well, uh,” Sausage seems to flounder for the first time since this conversation started, which Grian is choosing to take as a victory. “Look, I wasn’t- they didn’t pick me. For this, or for anything, ever. Sometimes things just happen and you get yourself into a place you shouldn’t have and then… they can’t get rid of me, I can’t get rid of them, it is what it is.”
Grian stares at him for a long moment. Really stares at him, in the same way Sausage had looked him over earlier, in the same way that makes you feel like you’re under a microscope. Judging by the sudden nerves in his eyes, Grian can assume he feels it too. Grian remembers his face. That had been the first thing he’d noticed, when the Hermits had arrived. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other, but Grian knew his face. And now that Grian was studying him, really trying to remember… he’s not sure he quite likes what memories he’s dredging up.
“What are you?”
“Grian!” Sausage’s voice drips with mock offense as he puts his hand up to partially cover his mouth. “We only just met, do you think that’s polite?”
“Answer the question,” Grian sighs. How Pearl deals with this man on the regular, he doesn’t know.
“Well, if you insist.” Sausage sighs, somehow even more exaggerated than his previous movements. “It’s just… if you’ll believe it, it’s somehow even harder to answer the first question.”
“It shouldn’t be,” Grian says. “They’re two very different People, you know.”
“But they’re the same species, when it all comes down to it. Like, you might be very different than a chicken, but you’re both birds in the long run.”
Grian pauses, fanning his wings out a bit behind him as he considers. “I don’t think that metaphor’s quite landing the way you want it to.”
“No, me neither. Anyways, let me continue.
When they don’t pick you, things go a little differently! You don’t get sorted onto one side or the other since, well, you’re not really supposed to be there? So I’m… whatever I want to be, really. I think I’m feeling like more of a Listener, today, but we’ll see how the mood shifts.”
Grian flinches at the Name, on instinct. He doesn’t know how to feel about that, so he files it away to be dealt with at a later date. As for the rest of what Sausage said-
“What?”
“You heard me.” Sausage shrugs. He’s so nonchalant, Grian thinks he might strangle him, if not for the worry that that’s exactly what he wants out of this, somehow.
“Did I? Did I hear you?” Grian wants to pace, but that requires leaving the security of the corner, so he forces his feet to root themselves to the floor. “I thought- I thought you had to- if you wanted to change sides, I thought you had to-“
Grian closes one eye and takes his thumb to it, twisting the finger into his eyelid. The gesture seems to get the point across.
“Well, that’s the funny thing about this, actually.” From the way he’s been talking, Grian assumed Sausage thought this whole thing was funny. He restrains himself from saying that out loud if only so Sausage will finish his explanation.
Sausage reaches up to his left eye, pulls his eye lid back a bit, and unceremoniously pops out his prosthetic eye.
“All these processes and rituals actually have a lot of loopholes.”
Grian doesn’t know what face he’s making, but it’s enough to make Sausage giggle while he pops the eye back in. Because of course he does. Because this how his day is going, apparently. Walk through a weird portal in his basement and wake up in a world filled with his friends who don’t recognize him and also a guy he only ever saw There, who he was never supposed to see again. Sure. Of course he’s laughing about it. Grian thinks if he was a slightly different person, he’d be laughing too. It is, undeniably, absurd.
“Well, I think we’re done here then!” Grian would probably object if he weren’t so shocked about the loopholes. As it is, he just stands there a bit stupidly.
Sausage turns away to return to the party before turn around again for just a moment, reaching over, and ruffling Grian’s hair. That shocks him enough to shake him out of his stupor and swat Sausage’s hand away, though not before his hair is suitably messed up.
“What was that for?!”
Sausage smiles as he reaches up to rough up his own hair as well. “I assumed you didn’t want your friends asking questions about why you were dragging me into a dark corner, you know?” Sausage even goes far enough to pull his shirt a bit out of where it’s tucked into his pants, because of course he does. Grian tries not to cringe, but Sausage is right about this one thing. It is the easiest way to dodge any questions about where he’d gone off to- at the expense of the many knowing looks and teasing remarks he’ll be getting from the other Hermits instead.
“Have a good night, Grian!” Sausage calls over his shoulder as he turns to leave for real this time. “And remember, drinks are on me for all you guests tonight! You look like you need it.”
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“Pizza’s on the way,” Eddie announces. He flops down on the sofa, crashing right into Billy’s side and smiling when the little outburst goes unnoticed. “I got mushrooms and cherry tomatoes like you like.”
Without looking up from his book, Billy hums. Turns the page gently while Eddie noses a kiss against his cheek.
“Did you get plain cheese for Stevie?” Billy asks.
“Yup, with stuffed crusts.”
Billy nods once. Zones back into his book, if the way that his breathing softens is any indication. Eddie scoots closer. Glances at the page and implements the five finger rule that Billy showed him — and determines before he’s even halfway down that this book is way over his head.
“Dude, what kind of Old Testament shit is this?”
It takes Billy a moment to finish the sentence that he’s reading before his eyes stop skimming back and forth.
“The Vampyre by John Polidori,” Billy says. “It’s the original vampire novel.”
“I thought Dracula was the original vampire.”
Billy taps the page lightly with his thumb.
“This was like seventy years before Bram Stoker’s Dracula was published. Stoker’s novel is actually considered an adaptation of this one.”
Eddie nods. Leans his head against Billy’s shoulder and wraps his arms around him.
“Then why not just read Dracula?”
“Because I’m reading it next.”
“God, you’re such a goth, y’know that?”
A small smile blooms on Billy’s face as he shakes his head.
“I don’t listen to the music.”
“C’mon, I’ve heard you bopping to Siouxsie and the Banshees before.”
“One of Max’s mixes,” Billy excuses.
“The Cure?”
“Jonathan left his tape in my car and I haven’t given it back yet.”
There’s a slight pause. Eddie sits up enough to look at his partner, quirking a brow.
“Since when do you hang around Byers?”
Billy purses his lips.
“I don’t. He works part-time at the library.”
“He’s showing you music in your car.” Eddie spreads a grin and Billy’s face begins to burn a flustered shade of red. “You have a little crush on him, don’t you?” When Billy doesn’t say anything, Eddie snickers. “You definitely have a type, that’s all I’m saying.”
“No I don’t.”
“No you don’t have a crush on him or no you don’t have a type?”
Billy huffs and waves Eddie off with his hand.
“Either.”
“Lanky brunets,” Eddie lilts. “Typically of the brooding persuasion.”
“You do not brood, Munson, you’re the most bubbly motherfucker on the planet.”
“That’s why I said typically, babe, let’s try and keep up.” Eddie nuzzles closer and chews his lip. “Y’know, mostly based on Steve and Jonathan. Maybe a little bit of Hagan.”
“You’re putting way too much thought into this.”
“There’s definitely a pattern, wouldn’t you say? Lanky brunets…” Eddie wonders. “Brooding, pale skin, brown eyes…”
Billy’s eyes stay locked on the page that he hasn’t finished reading yet, jaw set as Eddie tippy-taps his fingers against the blond’s chest.
“Is your type just… vampires?” Eddie muses.
“Energy vampires, maybe,” Billy grumbles. He dog-ears the page and finally shuts his book, laying it in his lap. “But no.”
Eddie chuckles. Flattens his hand against Billy’s sternum and smooths his palm back and forth.
“Seems like it to me.”
“This may surprise you, but I’m not so shallow that I only care about looks.”
“So…” Eddie trails off. “There’s an outlier.”
“Edd—“
“Who is it?”
“I’m not doing this right now.”
“You’re my boyfriend, you’re contractually obligated to tell me about your hot man crushes.”
Billy presses his lips together and doesn’t budge when Eddie tries to shake an answer out of him. Eddie is about to start more roughly demanding when the doorbell rings, and it derails his train of thought long enough for Billy to slip away from him.
The blond jumps up from his seat to answer the door, practically ripping the door off of its hinges when he opens it. Light pours into the entryway, obstructed by a tall figure.
“Thanks for ordering Surfer Boy Pizza where we make everything fresh except…” the voice trails off momentarily, nearly cut off by the bubbly laugh that exits the guy’s lips. “‘Sup, lil’ dude!”
A hand shoots out to fist bump Billy, which he barely reacts fast enough to reciprocate. Still, the blond spreads a dopey little smile.
“Hey, Argyle,” he greets. Soft, for how flustered he is.
“Man, I didn’t know you lived right here or I would’ve been hopping the fence for backyard smoke seshes.”
Billy fishes his wallet out of his pocket.
“Yeah, it’s kind of a new situation. Still getting settled.” Which is technically true if you count the box that’s been sitting unpacked in the corner for two weeks. “You should still come by sometime, though. When, uh… you’re not working, obviously.”
“Def!” Argyle says. “That’ll be fourteen fifty, bro.”
Billy digs in his wallet for a moment before he slaps a couple of bills in the other guy’s hand, which he trades the pizza for.
“Keep the change.”
Argyle furrows his brows.
“You gave me thirty.”
“Then I guess you have some extra cash for snacks when we hang out,” Billy lilts.
Argyle nods. Spreads a grin as he pockets the cash and fist bumps Billy once more.
“Sweet,” he says, and turns on his heel. “I’ll be seeing you around, lil’ dude!”
Billy waves briefly before he kicks the door shut, turning to walk into the kitchen and stopping in his tracks when he sees Eddie smirking at him from the couch.
The blond’s face turns ten different shades of red in a matter of seconds.
“The pizza guy, huh?” Eddie teases. “I see it.”
“I haven’t seen him much since I left Cali, alright? He just moved in with Jonathan and I haven’t had time to visit.”
“Right.”
Billy shifts his weight on his feet, furrowing his brows.
“Am I under investigation or something?”
“Nerds.”
“What?”
“Nerds. That’s your type. You like ‘em kinda dorky and way too interested in their hobbies.”
Billy scoffs.
“Stevie isn’t a nerd.”
“He’s a sports guy. You can twist it how you want, but he’s a nerd about it.”
“Tommy, then.”
“Too into cars.”
“Jon— actually, I understand that one, but Argyle is definitely not a nerd.”
Eddie chuckles and leans his elbow against the armrest, setting his chin in his hand thereafter.
“How many weed strands can that guy name? More than I can, and I can name a lot.” Eddie clicks his tongue when Billy has no counter argument. “Plus, he’s super passionate about his job. He talked my ear off about toppings for twenty minutes one time when I called in.”
Billy sighs. Sets the pizza down on the counter and crosses his arms, clearly working things over in his head. Eddie gets up in the meantime and strolls over. Gently pushes a stray curl out of Billy’s face before he laces his arms around his neck.
“Jokes aside, I think it’s nice that you like so many different people.”
Blue eyes meet his, and Billy softens. Sets his hands on Eddie’s hips.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm, I mean, you have lots of love to give, y’know? Of course it’s spilling over, sweetheart. Your cup is full.”
Billy chews his lip thoughtfully.
“I never looked at it that way before.”
Eddie leans closer. Kisses the corner of his partner’s mouth while he toys with a lock of his hair, soft to the touch and free of product.
“Glad my ramblings were of use to you,” Eddie chuckles. “Wanna have a sit-down with sleeping beauty after dinner? Talk some strats for getting you out of the friend zone?”
“I dunno if I wanna do that.”
“I’m pretty sure Steve’s had the hots for Tommy for a while now, so maybe we can knock everything out all at once.”
Billy raises an eyebrow.
“You’re not crushing on anyone? I might have to do some digging on you too, Munson, mister hopeless romantic.”
“I’m fine with bothering you two for eternity. I’m actually making it my life’s goal as we speak.”
“Of course you are.”
Billy ropes him closer, pulls him up to his tippy toes so he can press his lips to his neck — one of Eddie’s many, many weaknesses.
One of the others is, unfortunately, being manhandled. Even though Billy is gentle, it sends a thrill down Eddie’s spine when he’s lifted effortlessly.
“Want me to pay you back for the pizza?” Eddie breathes.
He makes a surprised noise when a large hand squeezes his ass.
“Keep your money, baby,” Billy lilts. Low and affectionate and now Eddie is the one getting flustered. “Wanna go wake Stevie up so we can eat and have our little discussion?”
Eddie nods. Shudders when Billy mouths at his throat and holds him ever closer.
“Yeah…” he manages.
Then Billy releases him. Let’s his socked feet touch the floor once again before he’s patting his behind and ushering him out of the kitchen.
Eddie has this sneaking suspicion that they’re gonna do way more than talk after they eat.
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