#again sorry i absolutely did not proofread this apart from what docs pointed out to me so sorry if anything is super wonky
Note
writing your request gave me another idea, so i'm sending it to you lol. while kip's recovery from the belt is going well, orange suddenly has some of his old symptoms from his own recovery come back, making him unable to function for the day. so now it's kip's turn to take care of him while also getting a chance to see just how bad it was for orange back then. let me know if you need any other details!
disclaimer i did not proofread this, so any funky structure or words or anything is just there, deal with it. its too late and i want this out tonight woo
~4,5k words
orangekip (orange cassidy/kip sabian)
set in the belt corruption arc(/immortal fears technically). has a good old chuck cameo. generally anxiety and shades of unreality are present. hurt/comfort would probably be my best guess for a genre, hints of angst. happy ending tho 💜
On Ao3
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With a yawn, Kip pushed his chair away from the desk, stretching his arms over his head. It had been a long but a very good day, another successful stream with the squad and much less angry yelling than he was anticipating. He was glad to have this time at home again, it had been quite some time since the last time he was able to sit down for this long period of time to focus on something so special to him. Streaming was a good, happy place for him still, one of those things that he could pick up again after being away from it for a long time, and it actually made him feel somewhat normal again, which a lot of things he tried really didn’t do.
Maybe it was because it had been so long, that he had almost completely dropped the hobby he had previously invested so much time and effort into, that it felt so good and normal to get back to it. Being so focused on the game and listening to his friends laugh and bicker while entertaining an audience he didn’t directly see felt so different to Kip, it felt like something he had genuinely missed all this time. Since he hadn’t really given it the time of the day or any thought really while he had been dealing with the belt.
His arms dropped to the armrests of the chair, Kip leaning his head back as he stared at the ceiling for a moment. The silence in the room felt nice for a change, as the Discord call with the boys had just ended and he was left on his own once again. But it didn’t feel bad, honestly. It was quite nice to him, for a change. Maybe Kip was still coming down from the high of the last game and the victory of it, maybe he was just for once in a place after everything that had happened where being alone in silence made him feel content instead of panicking him the hell out.
It didn’t matter though. Whatever it was, it felt really nice.
Kip reached his hands up, removing the headphones from his head as he finally straightened up on his seat, proceeding to turn the computer off. He could have gotten a bit more stream related work done today if he so wished, it was still early in the evening, but stretching his legs and getting away from the screen for at least a little while felt like a better idea to him. He needed to get something to eat anyway and he was out of energy drinks, plus he needed to check on Cassidy, as Kip hadn’t seen him for a few hours now.
Not that he was really worried or anything, but usually when they were apart from one another for this long of a period of time, at least one reached out to the other to make sure they were fine. Be it with just a single text message of ‘hey’ or asking what they wanted for dinner or if they were hungry in the first place. And today so far, Kip had received no such messages, or sent any out himself since he let Cassidy know he would be starting a stream.
Picking his phone from the desk, checking it as the thoughts crossed his mind, Kip’s brows arched a little as he checked over his messages, not seeing the usual blue tick mark next to the messages he sent out hours ago at this point, everything having gone unread.
Pushing up on his feet, Kip quickly exited the office, heading towards the living room. Maybe Cassidy had just fallen asleep and was taking a very long nap, it wasn’t unheard of him especially after a long, rough work week. Kip stopped in the doorway, scanning the empty room with confusion taking over his face.
Slowly the panic starting to rise in him, he turned on his heels, heading upstairs. Maybe he was there, having a good sleep in the bedroom instead. Kip could feel himself stumbling on his feet as he almost tripped up the stairs, trying to steady his breathing as he could suddenly feel the walls closing in on him, the sudden realization of loneliness was taking him over. It felt so familiar in a scary way, he could see from the corner of his eyes the shadows moving around him, every footstep against the wooden flooring echoing in his ears and ringing through his head as he reached for the bedroom door, almost bursting through it as he finally reached it.
Kip stumbled in the bedroom, a wave of comfort and safety immediately washing over him as he stopped the familiar pile of denim clad man laying on it.
He wasn’t sure if Cassidy was awake or not, but he didn’t react as Kip burst into the room with probably way too much force than he intended. Kip stood there in the doorway, taking in the sight of his boyfriend for a moment, a warm, content feeling slowly filling him as he watched the other man’s back steadily rise and lower along his breathing as he was laying on his stomach in the middle of the queen sized bed.
Stepping inside the room finally, Kip walked to the bed, taking a seat on the edge of it, his eyes never leaving Cassidy. He looked so peaceful on his spot, but Kip had to admit that he was almost… Too peaceful.
He carefully reached a hand towards him, laying it on his back. Kip’s eyes dimmed a little as he could feel Cassidy tense up under his touch, such reaction not being very usual for him when being shown affection. Kip shifted on his spot a little, sitting up a bit better, giving Cassidy a gentle nudge with his hand.
“Hey… You okay?”
This time Cassidy moved, only to curl up on his side and roll slightly away from him and his touch. Kip slowly pulled his hand back to himself, trying to comprehend this sudden change in behavior in the other man. He hadn’t seen this from Cassidy before, and honestly it was worrying him a lot.
Especially since Kip could see hints of his own previous behavior in this sudden change of attitude in him.
Kip jumped a little as he could suddenly hear buzzing coming from somewhere close by. Eyes shooting towards the sound, he spotted Cassidy’s phone sitting on the nightstand, screen flashing with an incoming call he deducted based on the length of the buzzing sound. He looked at Cassidy, the blond completely ignoring the sound as he didn’t even move on his spot, for a moment Kip not being sure if he was even breathing anymore as he just remained completely still, ignoring his surroundings.
Slowly sliding off the bed Kip stood up, walking around the bed to the nightstand, picking the phone in his hand. He watched Chuck’s familiar name flashing on the screen, disappearing just as he was looking at the screen, marking him hanging up the call. Before the screen turned off again, Kip could see it reading ‘25 missed calls’ and a pile of unread messages, similarly from Chuck, a few probably from others too.
Kip turned towards Cassidy slowly, any remaining resemblance of a positive outlook about the situation leaving him as Kip watched him just continue to lay still on the bed, the sunglasses still on his face he had pressed hard against the bed. The position he was in looked rather painful, even more so when Kip now knew he wasn't asleep and was absolutely doing it willingly to himself.
"...Chuck's been trying to reach you."
Cassidy remained completely stoic and unreactive, making Kip's face sink even more looking at him. He wasn't sure what had brought this behavior forward, he hadn't seen Cassidy act like this even on his worse days. Sure the man was often very closed off due to both his persona and personality, but it never got this bad. He always at least responded to Kip if no one else, but now it seemed like even he couldn't get through to him.
There was something so clearly wrong that Kip just didn't know how he was supposed to deal with the situation.
He could feel the panic rising again, trying to override those thoughts with the knowledge that he needed to stay calm right now. There was no one else around that could take care of this, there was no one else that knew what was going on, there was no --
Before Kip’s thoughts could race any further, the phone buzzed in his hand again. His eyes widened as they shot towards it, Chuck’s name flashing on the screen again. Pushing all his other thoughts to the side, Kip reached for the phone screen with his free hand, quickly sliding the bar on the screen before lifting the phone up to his ear.
“Orange? Orange? Thank god--”
“Chuck.”
The line went quiet for a moment, Kip considering briefly just dropping the phone next to Cassidy on the bed with the speaker on to let Chuck talk directly to him as he might have been an unwanted part of this conversation. But as Chuck’s voice picked up again, despite how awkward he sounded, at least it made Kip aware that he was needed to be around for this.
“...Kip? Where’s… Where’s Orange?”
Kip glanced at the denim clad man on the bed, wondering what would be the best response to the obvious question about the situation at hand. It was obvious that Cassidy hadn’t picked up the phone for hours, clearly signaling that something was very wrong, but while Kip could physically see it, he wasn’t sure he was able to explain any of it.
“He’s… He’s okay.”
As the words left Kip’s mouth, he wasn’t able to look at the blond anymore. Exiting the bedroom, he stopped in the hallway of the second floor, stopping to lean against the wall as he stared at the bedroom door he closed after himself, wondering if Chuck was going to be able to help him in this situation. Kip most likely knew what was wrong, this was familiar on a very personal distressing level to him, but he didn’t know if Chuck knew anything or if he was able to help.
“Can I talk to him? I just want to make sure.”
Kip shook his head, briefly forgetting in his distress that he was actually on the phone and Chuck wasn’t standing right there looking at him. He brushed a hand over his face, inhaling deeply, getting caught by a surprise at how much his breath was trembling. “I… I don’t think he really wants to talk.”
“Kip. What is going on? Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know.”
The words slipped out of his mouth faster than Kip could stop them, coming out so quietly he wasn’t sure at first if Chuck had heard them. The silence that fell over the call was telling him more than enough though, it takes a good few seconds before Chuck’s voice cut back in.
“You don’t know? Are you home, do I have to come over?”
Kip thought about his offer for a second, but knew that ultimately having another person here physically was just going to make everything even more difficult for them to deal with. While Kip wasn’t exactly sure what was going on with Cassidy, he knew enough from personal experience that getting too many people involved during a weak moment like this was just going to make it worse. As much as he trusted Chuck, he also didn’t want him to butt in to their house at a time like this.
“No… No, it would just make it worse. I just don’t know what to do.”
He was slowly starting to feel more confident telling Chuck about this, him being grilled had caught him off guard at first, but slowly Kip was leaning more into trying to get help from the one other man that might know what was going on. From what Cassidy had told him before, Chuck had been there a lot for him during his dark times just like Cassidy had been for Kip, so he had formed a sort of an understanding that Chuck also knew something about this… Curse, as they liked to refer to it after all the incidents.
Kip never really talked with Chuck though, he was aware of Kip’s situation with Cassidy, but if he was ever around, it was always for his blond friend. Kip was always an afterthought. Which he didn’t really mind in this case, he still wasn’t entirely over with what had happened to him after losing the belt, so talking about any of it with someone like Chuck would probably have been awkward anyways.
“I… I think he’s relapsing.”
That was the best way he could put it, the words they had been using between Kip and Cassidy to talk about situations where one of them, that usually being Kip, got worse again after a good period of being at least somewhat okay and functional. Kip wasn’t sure if Chuck was made aware of this terminology though, the silent reply he was getting from the other end of the call not really helping him figure it out.
“Okay… Okay that’s not good. Where is he? Is he at least in one piece?”
“He’s safe, in the bedroom. Just… Completely unresponsive, laying on the bed, barely moves away from the touch.”
Kip could hear Chuck groaning, sounding like he was suddenly more annoyed than worried anymore. Maybe it was a good sign, maybe this was behavior that he had seen before?
“Okay, listen.” Kip nodded, this time it didn't matter that Chuck didn’t see the gesture from him. “He’s aware of his surroundings if he’s avoiding touches. That’s a good sign. What you need to do is to try to ground him. We need to get him back to reality.”
Now it was starting to sound familiar. This was something Cassidy had told him before, that he had learned to do with him at days when Kip was in much of a similar state than he was right now. The problem was that Kip usually didn’t remember anything about those days when he was laid out and bedridden, so he wasn’t sure exactly how to do that. Cassidy had told him that talking seemed to help most of the time, but apart from that, Kip really had no idea.
“How do we do that?”
Chuck brought this up, maybe he had an idea. If this had been a thing with Cassidy previously while he was in recovery, Chuck had to have been there. He would know.
“Okay, do you have something small and possibly something that dissolves that you could try to feed to him? Sugar, maybe? And something to drink, something tastier than water. He needs those senses activated.”
“Yeah… Yeah I think we have something in the kitchen. Is there anything else?”
“Try to be there with him. Talk to him. Make sure he hears you and understands that you’re there, even if he most likely won’t respond. The last thing you want to do is leave him alone.”
Kip pushed himself off from the wall, heading downstairs and towards the kitchen. He tried to push Chuck’s last words out of his mind, knowing that he had already more than enough failed at that task, having spent most of the day away from him while Cassidy had been in this kind of a condition. He could hopefully still remedy all of this though, if he just followed the rest of Chuck’s advice. It all sounded distantly familiar to him, Kip couldn’t say for sure if Cassidy had been feeding him things while he had been out of it on the worst days, but the talking and closeness otherwise did ring some mental bells to him.
Kip excused himself from the call as he entered the kitchen, knowing that he was going to have his hands full going back upstairs. Thankfully Chuck was understanding, just telling Kip to let him know if things got worse and to text him when Cassidy got better. Stuffing the phone into the pocket of his sweatpants, Kip started opening the kitchen cupboards, trying to find as many items he could try to get Cassidy to consume for him, not really being sure what he could get to work. Anything from basic sugar cubes to sample packs of Nutella to mints and Starbursts, he took everything small enough he could find, alongside a few energy drinks he could try to get Cassidy to taste.
Kip wasn’t really sure if he was feeling hopeful or not about this, Chuck hadn’t really made it clear if this was actually going to work or not. He said it was what usually what worked. Glancing at the pile of food items in his hands as Kip headed back upstairs, he could feel a hard to swallow lump in his throat, teasing him with the thought that what if this wasn’t going to help after all? What if all this was for nothing? That he could try whatever he wished, and he just wasn’t going to be able to help Cassidy, not able to bring him back to this side of consciousness from the darkness.
He stopped at the bedroom door, almost too afraid to open it again. Considering the situation he was sure that Cassidy hadn’t moved from the spot Kip had left him in, but there was still a certain fear in the back of his head that what if something had happened. That he had somehow done something to himself while Kip was away.
Chuck’s words kept playing in his head. ‘The last thing you want to do is leave him alone.’ Had he already fucked this up? Was there no way to reverse this anymore? This was the first time Kip was on the other end of this situation, he hadn’t talked much with Cassidy about his feelings and fears when Kip was having one of these days himself, so he really didn’t know when it was too late to try to deal with it anymore.
Taking in a deep breath Kip tried to calm himself down, carefully pushing down the door handle, re-entering into the bedroom. A wave of content washed over him as he spotted Cassidy exactly where he was left a few minutes earlier, but at the same time Kip could feel the sadness and guilt finding him still laying there too. He wasn’t magically getting better on his own clearly, and Kip hadn’t been there enough for him to help him out.
Pushing the thoughts from his head for a moment, Kip walked around the bed, starting to pile the items from his hands to the floor. Cassidy didn’t seem to pay him any mind, still laying on his side, half of his face buried against the blanket with the sunglasses squished between it and his face in a rather painfully looking manner. As Kip was ready, he carefully approached the other man, lowering a hand on his face, carefully caressing his cheek.
“I’m sorry I’m late, Clementine,” he whispered, offering Cassidy a little smile, despite being sure he didn’t even perceive it. As Cassidy didn’t respond in any manner, vocal or physical, Kip carefully reached for him, slowly pulling the man closer to the edge of the bed. Cassidy didn’t resist, Kip having to hold himself together as Chuck’s words just kept repeating in his head. He had said that Cassidy responding even negatively to touches was good, so Kip wasn’t sure where this landed in the spectrum anymore. Hopefully Cassidy was just aware that Kip was here to help him and that’s why there was no resistance, and he actually wasn’t too far gone already.
Kip carefully slid him onto the floor, setting the blond to sit against the side of the bed. He sat down beside Cassidy, leaning his back against the nightstand, making sure that he had a good look at Cassidy’s face in case of sudden chances in his expression. It was also going to be much easier to try to feed him something from this angle, Kip thought to himself as he glanced at the items on the floor between the two of them.
“I… I got you a little something to eat.” Kip looked at Cassidy, wincing a little to himself as he could finally see the side of his face that had been laid against the bed all this time. The frames of the sunglasses had left a noticeable mark on his face, and while Kip was sure it wasn’t that painful if Cassidy could feel it in the first place, it sure didn’t look very pretty. “It’s… It’s okay. We just have a little picnic here. On the bedroom floor. Just the two of us. With all your favorite treats.”
Kip offered him a smile, getting nothing back. He tried to not let it discourage him, reaching for the little cup of sugar cubes, picking one into his hand. Reaching for Cassidy’s face, he had to fight with him a little bit to be able to get his jaws to open up, but eventually Kip was able to slip a sugar cube into his mouth. He looked at the stoic man, not seeing even a slight movement from him as a response. Maybe he needed something else. Maybe some more encouragement.
Without thinking further, Kip leaned closer, pressing a little peck on his cheek. “You’re going to get better, I promise. I’m here now.”
Maybe he was imagining it. Maybe he wasn’t but it was just a coincidence, but Kip could swear he saw Cassidy swallowing as those words exited his mouth. Kip kept staring at him, trying to make sure he was actually seeing it, his eyes widening a little as he definitely saw it the second time, being followed by a very sudden change in Cassidy’s demeanor as Kip could hear him take in a breath.
Almost frantically Kip looked back to the floor, trying to pick out the next item to try. He hadn’t expected things to work out this fast in his favor, but it was definitely making him more motivated to continue. Maybe Cassidy was just easier to pull out of his rut so it was working on his faster, the man had had a longer recovery period than Kip did, so maybe it had something to do with it. It didn’t matter though, Kip had not confirmed that this was actually working and not hope had been lost, and he was going to continue to try to make it even better, slowly but steadily.
One item at a time he kept feeding them to Cassidy, telling him between each item how proud of him he was and how Kip was there to make things better. How he was sorry he hadn’t been there all day. Eventually ending up just talking about the stream he had earlier, what the boys had been up to and how mad he got at times. What fun things the chat was saying, what they discussed about. Kip tried to keep his mouth going as much as possible, just making sure that there was sound filling in the otherwise quiet room. He didn’t mind that Cassidy still didn’t reply to him, Chuck had thankfully prepared him for that part, and Kip had enough to talk about to just keep going.
As he was chatting away about something mundane, peeling the Starburst in his hand out of the wrapper, Kip watched as suddenly a lazy hand landed on his. His eyes widened as he froze in place, quickly glancing up to watch Cassidy be otherwise just as stoic as before. He wasn’t looking at Kip, not moving anything but the hand he landed on his, but Kip could feel him trying to make an effort to squeeze his hand, almost as if trying to communicate through that.
Kip smiled, holding Cassidy’s hand in one of his while the other one reached to put the Starburst into his mouth. Cassidy had become easier to feed the more Kip did it, this time him taking the candy into his mouth almost entirely on his own from Kip’s fingers. He pressed his hand against Cassidy’s cheek, his thumb caressing the side of his face.
“I’m so proud of you. You’re so strong, Clementine.”
They continued like this until Kip basically ran out of things to give to him, with each item Cassidy slowly giving him more and more signals of some levels of awareness. He was steadily getting better through this, though Kip had no idea how far he was able to actually take it. Like was Cassidy going to return to normal tonight, or what was a point where he could stop and they could just sleep the rest of it off? Again, he didn’t remember being on the other end of this problem himself though he knew it had happened before, so he had little to no reference point to go from.
As Kip spun the final energy drink can in his free hand, he glanced up at Cassidy. He had started to breathe much more freely as time went on, returning Kip’s hands reassuring squeezes every now and then. Kip could swear he was leaning into the touches and kisses to his face too, but as his expression wasn’t changing and the movements were very minimal, it was really hard to actually tell. But the progress was definitely there, that much he could say for sure.
Kip lowered the energy drink to the floor, trying to proceed to open it with one hand. He was stopped though as Cassidy lowered his other hand on top of it, gathering a questioning look from Kip, almost making him jump as he lifted his eyes to meet Cassidy’s face, the blond for the first time in the entire day actually looking directly at him. Still emotionless and behind the sunglasses, but he had shifted on his spot a noticeable amount to be face to face with Kip finally.
“…Kip.”
His voice was hoarse, the word barely audible. Kip just stared back at him, unable to move, unable to look away, just waiting for whatever was going to follow up with that.
“…Thank you.”
Shoving the energy drink aside, Kip leaned closer, pressing his lips against Cassidy’s. A smile rose up on his lips as he could feel him respond to the show of affection, very slightly and carefully Cassidy leaning into the kiss as well after a moment of hesitation.
#fic#setting: belt corruption arc#character: orange cassidy#character: kip sabian#character: chuck taylor#ship: orangekip#request#i didnt intend this to become this long but also you know what who cares it ended up just really cute#again sorry i absolutely did not proofread this apart from what docs pointed out to me so sorry if anything is super wonky#i hope you like it <33#aew fanfiction#wrestling fanfiction
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Siegemas Day 24
Happy holidays everyone, it’s me again! I stepped in for this day :) Once again, thank you @dualrainbow, this event is a delight 💝💝
Today, my prompt is the very first line of the fic you find below. I hope you all enjoy it, and have a wonderful time no matter what or whether you’re celebrating! ✨ (Twitch/IQ, Rating T, fluff + emotional comfort, ~2.8k words)
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“We made… too many cookies.”
The comedic timing is impeccable, the line delivered with perfect hesitance as to imply awareness of the understatement while hiding its undoubtedly practised nature. She’s a born people person with a knack for being charmingly endearing, and IQ is absolutely and horrifically powerless.
“This is ridiculous”, she states, deadpan, not giving away how amused she is in reality – it’s not often that she opens the door to a stunning young woman with pretty cheekbones tinted pink from the cold outside, clad in a flattering deep purple coat and holding several tin boxes in gloved hands. Patterned gloves, a row of snowflakes adorning the fabric. A very familiar row of snowflakes.
“I know, and I’m really sorry, but I don’t know anyone else who’d appreciate these.” Her hair is laid in neat waves framing her pale freckled face, light make-up completing the elegant look. She could be a film star, certainly possesses the same unselfconscious attitude one would expect, even though she’s displaying embarrassment right now. Her slim figure hugged tightly by her form-fitting clothes is visible clearly despite the frankly laughable amount of cookie tins and IQ can’t help herself.
She invites her in.
Twitch is a waterfall, bubbling excitedly about how or why she came across certain recipes, casually throwing in a French or German word amidst the usual English, and it’s impossible for IQ to follow her but she smiles and nods anyway while relieving her visitor of her cargo and placing it gingerly on the kitchen table. So far, this last Sunday before Christmas – the fourth Advent, as it’s called in her mother tongue – had been almost serene, began with chores and continued with a quiet cup of coffee and a good book before slowly tilting over into planning and researching for her next chapter. A regular occurrence. As a result, IQ is mentally somewhere else still and needs a few minutes before she can concentrate on her unexpected guest.
“Good to see you”, she chimes in during a small pause (wouldn’t you know it, even Twitch needs to breathe), and the two of them hug as a greeting. Twitch always gives her a good squeeze, really presses the two of them together, which is one of the reasons IQ looks forward to meeting her every day: it makes her feel appreciated. No one else comes close to these embraces, not Blitz, her decade-old friend, or even her own siblings. In Twitch’s arms, she closes her eyes and finds peace for a brief second.
It might be the absence of her family which has left her this sentimental – normally, she’s too busy to analyse her friends, to scrutinise them to this amount, but today an odd sort of nostalgia and possible bout of loneliness has overtaken her. She did light four candles on her wreath, the first one almost burnt out completely from being lit on all the previous Sundays, yet instead of providing warm illumination, it caused subtle brooding. Their house was always lively around Christmas, bustling with fights, pretend fights, singing, louder singing, future plans yelled through the staircase, raucous laughter, and various songs on repeat trying to drown each other out.
Here, in her small apartment in England, the silence felt foreboding.
“I tried my hand at spéculoos, which Marius called a German staple, and let me tell you – the dough I had was a nightmare to work with, much too sticky. I wanted to roll it out and use Julien’s cookie cutters but it wouldn’t cooperate, so you now have small poop piles of what I think you call Spekulatius. It’s in the blue tin, right on top there. I also made vanilla… uh, vanilla croissants? Shaped like moons? They’re Dom’s favourites, apparently, and Gilles begged me to help him, but he got the recipe wrong and we got so many that he just gave me half. Elias really wanted pain d’épices, um, spicy bread? No, gingerbread, that was it. You guys have the best name for it, by the way, Lebkuchen, it makes it sound like you’re Frankenstein: live, cake!”
Twitch somehow manages to wander through the flat while babbling on, accepting a cup of lukewarm coffee IQ puts in her hands and instinctively helping to pick a few cookies from each box to create an inviting-looking decorative paper plate which IQ carries into the living room where they settle down, fingers curled around warmed ceramic and eyes gleaming in the candlelight.
“You need to try these, it’s actually one of James’ mum’s recipes. Poppyseed and chocolate, they turned out better than expected, but after Liza told that story about her acquaintance failing a drug test because of poppyseed bagels, people refused to eat more than one and I definitely can’t stomach all of these alone.”
She watches, expectantly, as IQ dutifully picks out one of the spotted cookies shaped like a flower and bites into the crumbly bakeware. Surprising no one, it’s delicious – if there’s anything Twitch can’t do, IQ hasn’t found it yet.
“Really good”, she agrees, allowing for Twitch’s instant beaming smile to tug the corners of her own mouth upwards while she chews. “Manu, these all look lovely. You know I’d die for good Christmas cookies, so thank you. Even though this is way too much for me.”
Her laugh is melodic and as contagious as her constant sunny mood. “You should see how many I still have at home. Elias claimed he needs to watch his figure, Julien should be watching his figure, Doc doesn’t really like sweets, and Gilles eats maybe one cookie a day. Which you know is illegal at Christmastime.”
“Still, this is a wonderful present and I’m afraid I have nothing to give in return.” IQ isn’t being entirely honest. Still testing the waters; maybe Twitch will manage to read between the lines and they can finally address it. The moment the Frenchwoman stepped over the threshold was the moment IQ decided they’d talk it through today. It’s been going on long enough.
“Not true, you gave me the gloves!” Twitch’s triumphant gotcha! expression is self-satisfied and smug and sweet. Sweeter than the cookies calling to IQ – they really do look fantastic, a variety of shapes, sizes and colours, all together smelling of spices and memories and Christmas.
“Someone had to, you kept complaining about your icy fingers.”
“And you were probably sick of warming them up.” Twitch hasn’t caught on yet, her tone is still breezy and carefree. “Have you written some more? Any new scenes for me to read? I need to know whether the captain really is dead or not.”
IQ laughs, half embarrassed and half delighted – when the news broke in Rainbow that she writes stories in her spare time, she expected an outcome way worse than what she ended up facing: Castle immediately expressed interest in reading them, no matter the topic, and once word got out that it was usually science-fiction-centric, even more people approached her out of curiosity. None of them as enthusiastic as Twitch, however, who dove into the narratives like an age old fan into new material, sparking an unknown productivity in IQ which has yet to subside. Knowing there’s at least one person who devours anything she dreams up has been fantastically motivating, and they’ve begun spinning yarn together now and then. Twitch is the only one whom she trusts enough to proofread for scientific errors or inconsistencies, and she’s helped develop a character into a much more compelling version of themselves several times.
The next hour is spent on discussing IQ’s research, involving frantic googling and article hopping on Wikipedia to help with finding the correct jargon – Twitch knows most of the technical terms in French, which doesn’t mesh well with IQ’s rusty school French, whereas her German accent makes it difficult for the other woman to understand her, so they try to meet in the middle somewhere by using English, despite the laborious process involved.
They’re on one wavelength. Always have been, from the moment they came across each other in Rainbow’s workshop, when Twitch still dyed her hair auburn and IQ barely spoke a word with the other operators: a friendly smile, an engineering-related question, a brief introduction, and they were a house on fire. Inseparable at work.
Twitch made sure it bled into their private lives as well, even if it took considerable effort. IQ never asked, but she’s sure her friend secretly celebrated that one day when she finally said yes to one of her suggestions of meeting up.
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And it’s exactly why it hurts so fucking much to think -
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“Manu.”
Twitch stops talking mid-sentence, probably caught off guard by her serious tone of voice. “Yes? Is everything alright?”
It might be. She hopes it will be. Her fingers stray to a loose thread peeking out of the seam of her trousers, picking at it. “We’ve been friends for a while now.”
Several years, in fact, an unimaginably long time. Not that IQ hasn’t been able to keep friendships alive for this long, but never one this close. The level of intimacy usually kept declining after a certain point, usually prompted by nothing, sometimes spatial distance, sometimes emotional. There aren’t many people who keep up with her over a long time, and even fewer she keeps up with – Blitz is a great friend, but he just doesn’t share her passions.
“And you’re one of the most generous people I know. Your first instinct when you have too many cookies is to give them away. I’ve always admired this about you.”
Twitch is listening intently. She knows something is up, yet can’t put her finger on it. Her brows are furrowed. IQ knows this from a brief glance before her gazed drops back down to her restless fingers.
“Julien and I had a conversation about you, not too long ago. And some of what he said was… unexpected.” Rustling; Twitch is beginning to fidget as well. “Unrelated to that, Dom overheard you voicing your frustration about your being single and mentioned it to me. I didn’t know you were that unhappy. You never said anything.”
She really likes you. Yeah, don’t wave me off. I’ve never seen her fawn over someone like this. You get special treatment all the time.
And then, more poignant: At this point, I’m basically ready to fuck anything that moves.
The second quote echoes in her mind as if she’d heard it herself instead of it being delivered second-hand. Both of them made her look back at the past months and re-evaluate some events. Showed them in a very different light.
Twitch is radiating anxiousness. It’s easy to pick up.
“I realise now that I’ve received a lot of special attention from you, and… I just have to wonder.” It’s harder and harder to push the words out, her throat closing up. “Wonder whether your present today is cookies and friendship, or cookies and a confession, or cookies and an expectation. Whether there’s some kind of motive attached.”
Her entire life, there’s never been anyone outside her family who understood her better. Being a woman in a male dominated field is difficult enough, especially as a competitive one, and her experiences aren’t easily conveyed to her guy colleagues – Twitch understands, of course, has faced the same obstacles and prejudices. Seeking patterns everywhere, striving for excellence, despising complacency, the overwhelming need to reverse engineer anything new or remarkable, exploring new places, wanting to always keep moving and improving – Twitch understands, has had a similar upbringing and equivalent goals.
They share almost everything at this point, have been on holidays together, mastered several projects with each other’s help, stayed up till sunrise because sleep was the inadequate alternative to exchanging ideas and pushing each other further than they’d go by themselves. Others have always tried to slow IQ down, force her to relax, take her mind off something she enjoyed chewing on, and it was infuriating.
All Twitch does is encourage her. Which paradoxically calms IQ more than any massage or empty-brained film ever could.
She doesn’t want to lose all this. Her chest hurts with the pressure of potentially losing someone this dear to her. But at the same time, she doesn’t want Twitch to get the wrong idea.
When silence is all she receives, she looks up to find Twitch fighting for composure – wide eyes filled with moisture and lip quivering. It’s a stab in the guts. IQ has never seen her cry.
“I don’t -”, Twitch chokes out, adding more quietly: “This isn’t -”
IQ sits next to her, reaching out but retreating when Twitch shakes her head, so all she does is take her hand. As always, her fingers are cold, so IQ closes her own around them. This isn’t at all what she intended, but she needs to know.
“Your friendship means the world”, comes a much more composed statement after a minute. “You should know this.”
She nods. She does know.
“And – and yes, if there was more, I’d be happy. Even happier than I am now. But there doesn’t need to be.” Twitch is speaking faster now, rushing the words, her melodic French accent thickening. “I’m fine with everything staying the way it is. I love being around you, no matter how, so if you’re not okay with – with anything else, it’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll get over it, no worries.”
“Manu. Breathe.” Seeing the other woman in a panic is a rare sight and IQ doesn’t enjoy knowing she’s the cause. “I love being around you, too. You’re my best friend, by far. But… I don’t want anything casual.”
Twitch needs a moment to digest this and IQ readies her responses: she’s had bad experiences with it in the past, and as far as she knows, arrangements like friends with benefits tend to make everything messy and awkward. Staying friends is the better option.
“Yes. Me neither.” A beat. Their eyes meet, Twitch’s still glistening.
There is an even better option, as far as IQ is concerned. And it seems to slowly dawn on the nearly perfect woman next to her.
“And… what about something not casual? But still more?”
Oh. The pressure begins to lift off her chest with every passing second, with every second that Twitch stares at her, hopeful, unsure. Slowly, she clarifies: “You mean – cookies and a confession?”
The nod is nearly imperceptible, and IQ probably almost breaks her fingers by squeezing so hard. The next thing she knows is she’s leaning forward and pressing their lips together, tasting the saltiness of perceived rejection as well as the disbelieving smile of actual acceptance, and then Twitch is laughing as well, crying in between relieved giggling, almost hysterical, and IQ joins in, and before they know it, they’re a mess on the sofa, hugging, seeking physical contact, pressing kisses to temples and hair and cheeks and lips again, wrapping arms around warm bodies.
Her heart is singing because while she so fiercely hoped, she barely dared to, was used to disappointments and therefore expected the worst, even ascribed traits to her best friend in the whole world who’d never stoop so low as to demand something from her she wasn’t ready to give. No, Twitch understands her and vice versa. Even so, it took them an embarrassingly long time to get to this point. In their shared joyousness, they barely manage to finish their sentences:
“What Dom heard me say wasn’t, I mean, I was just -”
“Yes, I figured, but it still got me thinking -”
“I was having a bad day, I’m not that frustrated -”
“Oh? That’s a shame, you know, I was actually looking forward to -”
“Monika!”, Twitch exclaims, scandalised even though they’re both aware IQ is joking, and by now they’re laughing like mad, especially because Twitch only uses her full name when she’s done something, so IQ resorts to tickling her in retaliation or maybe to distract her, and they both yelp when Twitch’s foot shoots up, gets caught on the rim of the cookie plate peeking over the coffee table’s edge, and catapults its contents everywhere. One manages to hit IQ in the face, the rest is scattered all over the floor, which sets them off again after a second of total silence.
“It’s fine, it’s fine”, Twitch gets out in between breaths, “I really do have tons more at home.” Which IQ believes her in a heartbeat.
Even though she’s pretty sure she got the lion’s share of the leftovers.
And just a second before they notice that the napkin on which the cookies were presented has caught fire, IQ thinks about how she dreaded spending Christmas at Hereford without her family – and she realises now she’ll be in great company regardless.
#rainbow six siege#twitch#iq#twitch/iq#fanfic#oneshot#siegemas#this is the last couple perfecting my quartet of german/french ships#check out their new bios btw#in my head they fit so so so well together#I'm looking forward to reading all the entries I've missed!!#I hope I'll have more time after Christmas
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