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Rollercoaster Baby

Notes:

this was inspired by oh wonder’s album, 22 break!

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Sitting in silence developed into a constant occurrence with Bradli and Spencer. Their voices had always been filling the air, becoming a void of endless noise that could never be ended. Conversations were always gentle, and circled around the topics of their love towards each other or maybe an episode of Hannibal that they’d previously watched. This time… it changed. Just the tiniest movements sparked a new sentence to come flying from one of their mouths.

 

As he let out a deep sigh, Spencer’s finger traced the edge of his glass, almost filled to the brim with what appeared to be an non-alcoholic beverage. The liquid was a deep magenta, a few bubbles inching towards the top every so often.

 

Bradli noticed this, tapping the outside of their own drink container with their freshly manicured nail, the tip of it chipping ever so slightly. Just the visible difference between the two of them had grown drastically ever since Bradli had officially been released from prison.

 

Their dried skin had lost its natural warm pigment, for the muscle on their bones had started to pull against their skeleton, all traces of being in shape now non-existent. Each lock and strand of hair had grown back, only russet present on their head, the familiar tone of crimson erased from sight. Hell, even the bags under their eyes had darkened in tone, outshining Spencer’s once and for all. Spencer, on the other hand, was practically glowing. His skin’s texture had softened to the touch if you ignored the stubble that decided to make a guest appearance. Their hair curled up at the ends more than usual, framing his face perfectly. Well, at least, that would be how Bradli would phrase it.

 

Bradli?” Spencer asked, forcing out the name with a minor slur grasping each letter and the two syllables with ease.

 

They shrugged, their hand now clasping the glass like the world would end if they let go. “What? Is there a problem now?”

 

“I- uh, I wanted to tell you something.”

 

“Fire away.” The sudden absence of pet names coming from Bradli had become evident recently, which typically occurred when something was bothering them. His rings rocked back and forth against the glass, following each ridge with a small clink.

 

Spencer cleared his throat, placing his own glass down, leaning forward ever so slightly. “We always said that… We always believed that opposites attract.”

 

“What the hell is that?” Bradli scoffed, now kicking back in their seat, glass still encased between their fingers. “What the fuck are you even trying to say?”

 

“Bradli, you’ve been… you’ve changed.”

 

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s the trauma.” And there was a pet name. Sure, it came out in a much more aggressive tone than he had anticipated, but it was… something. Either way, Bradli had never been one to call people sweetheart without a hint of either poison or negativity present in their tone. It felt… toxic, almost.

 

But it didn’t feel genuine. At least, that’s how Spencer would phrase it. He didn’t even have the words to reciprocate the sarcasm thrown in his direction, for the devil was in the deep end, and he was certain Bradli would crack. Any day now. “Don’t start. Please.”

 

“Start what?” Just by paying the littlest amount of attention to their voice, you could just sense the masking of a smirk in their energy. “What do you think I’m going to do? Spit out venom at you? Raise my voice? Because trust me, I have no control over myself anymore.”

 

Now it was Spencer’s turn to scoff. “You’re not the only one who’s been to prison. We’ve both been. Framed for murder. Remember?”

 

“You act like I’ve never heard you talk about it.”

 

His eyebrows furrowed at this comment as their back slowly straightened, a now visible contrast between his posture and Bradli’s. “Can you, just… play nice? I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but it’s not funny.”

 

Bradli’s smirk grew in size, one side tilting in a more upward fashion than the other, lips pressed into a thin line. “Oh, I’m sorry. My stress must be so tiring for you.” Even though their right hand remained around the glass, their left hand tapped against their thigh, almost in the same rhythm as their heart rate decided to accelerate in speed.

 

“It-it’s not tiring me out. If anything, it’s riling me up. I can’t even- I can’t- damnit.” He brought his hands up his face, rubbing his eyes and cheeks with such aggression that you would expect their skin to rip off due to the impact. That wasn’t the case. The closest they got was causing the blood to rush to their skin. “I don’t like fighting, Bradli. I’ve told you many times already-”

 

“Oh? So that’s what we’re doing now.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Wow. I couldn’t tell.” Never had Bradli ever been one to start an unexpected argument, especially with someone like Spencer. “Alright, fine. I give up. You win.” They placed their glass down, not giving a damn if the base chipped from the impact. “I fucked up.”

 

“You… you’re accepting defeat? That early?”

 

“Yup. I’ll even wave a white flag if that makes you feel better.” All that Spencer could now was stare. How could he recover from… this? Bradli had literally tried to start an argument, only to cut it short. Was this… really their form of domination? Whatever it was, it sure as hell wasn’t working. “Are you just going to stand there and stare at me like I’m a bloody murderer? C’mon, Spencer, you can do so much better than that.” Spencer? Boy, was that new. “Go on, hit me. Say whatever you want. Swear at me. Physically touch me. Do whatever you fucking want.”

 

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“You always bloody say that. Don’t fucking bottle it up. Hit me with it. I want to see you try.” Every single word that slipped from his mouth allowed more toxicity to drip from their lips, the venom tickling their tongue.

 

“Fine. You’re- you’re always letting me tell you how I feel but for once, the truth isn’t enough for you.” Spencer’s voice travelled up half an octave as his words shot out at immeasurable speeds. “Yeah, you’ve made me a better person and yeah, you’ve made me feel more confident in myself, but sometimes I feel like I’m dragging you down. I’m like a useless paperweight at times. You’re… you’ve become an absolute bi-bitch recently, and I really hate to admit it now that you’ve let me. As free as my speech may be at this moment, the amount of words that describe how I feel is... infinitesimal.”

 

“Do you mind putting that in a language that I can understand?” No. Spencer thought. “Alright then, keep your secrets. I’ll pretend I got what you meant. Continue.”

 

“...Why?”

 

“Why what?”

 

“Why are you making me do this?”

 

“Why not?” The continued stare was the only response they needed, which prompted them to stand up, shoes trailing against the floorboards as they paced back and forth in the dining room of their shared home. “You wanna know why I’m making you do this? It’s because I want to know how you truly feel about me. No damn invisible wall in the way. Just raw emotion. I’d do the same to you but I might accidentally spark something within me.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Dunno, an indescribable amount of anger… Lust, maybe? Aggression is attractive to some, right? I don’t know. I’m just thinking about what I’ve read in books.” They came to a halt like their words, thumbs now looping into their jeans. “What do you think? Why do you think I’m making you do this?”

 

        He shrugged, eyes scanning Bradli up and down, scribbling down as many mental notes on their demeanor as he could. “I’m not quite sure, if I’m honest.”

 

        “I knew you’d say that.”

 

        “Say what?”

 

        “That you don’t know,” They started, their steps now dragging them toward Spencer. “You know practically everything and for once you don’t know? I find that hard to believe.”

 

        His eyes never left Bradli’s figure as they approached him. His hands trailed down his own thighs, palms rubbing against the material of their trousers, wiping off any sweat that sat on them. “Well, what would you believe?”

 

        “Anything other than that.” They announced, now standing above Spencer’s lean frame. “Then again, it’s hard for me to believe anything nowadays. I don’t even know what’s fake or real anymore.”

 

        “Well,” He cleared his throat again, this time by gulping aggressively, forcing his Adams Apple to bop up and down. “I’m real to you, right?” They groaned in a tone that said something like I don’t know, almost as if it were their only form of communication. “What’ll make you believe?”

 

        “Surprise me. The hallucinations are a lot more predictable than you’d expect.”

 

        “Yeah?”

 

        “Yeah.”

 

        That singular repetition of the word that bounced between the two of them coached such a sharp movement that even Spencer didn’t understand what he was doing. They’d instantaneously shot up from their seat, hands rushing from their pant legs to Bradli’s cheeks, a slight yet almost unnoticeable warmth radiating from his skin as they touched it. Spencer allowed his hazelnut eyes to dart around their face in a triangular motion, desperate for just a second of touch. God, if his pupils weren’t already large at that moment of time, they surely did grow in size over the span of a few seconds.

 

        And that’s when he did it.

 

        Spencer knew that the lips had a ton of nerve endings in comparison to any part of your body, for he remembered that when his own mouth had slammed against Bradli’s- he knew it felt absolutely amazing. Afterall, it allowed serotonin to be released within his body, which also would lower cortisol levels, something that would bring a sense of relaxation to the pair. Even if he struggled to find the words to describe how he felt towards Bradli in a negative way… now… he knew the exact feeling of his lips pressed against theirs. They were soft, almost like silk. Just the sudden puff of air slipping from their noses as they both forced out occasional breaths just to stay alive… Boy, was that feeling alone intoxicating. As Spencer allowed himself to focus less on the feeling and more on the taste of their mouth, he began to notice just what Bradli tasted of. Cherry chapstick and herbal tea. Two things that they adored, and Spencer loved how Bradli felt about them both. It somehow made him panic about himself.

 

        Was his breath bad? Did he taste of anything gross? Maybe something not like the books had prepared Bradli for?

 

        It was obvious that Spencer had delved too deep into their thoughts, for Bradli’s hands had placed themselves upon their partner’s chest, their touch so gentle that it felt like sparks ignited, or at least a pulse of energy had been absorbed. Either way, they weren’t as dominant as Spencer in their actions. They allowed their touch to remain as subtle as possible, their awareness of the genius’ dislike for any form of physical contact now swimming to the front of their brain. Of course, Spencer didn’t mind. In fact, he loved it, and almost influenced it to go even further. He even grabbed one of Bradli’s hands, allowing his fingers to lace with theirs, which caused them to pull away, lips swollen and pinker than before. Of course, Spencer had his other hand entangled within Bradli’s hair, carefully twirling a single curl around a finger, his body entranced by every miniscule movement of the Agent glued to him.

 

        As the two pulled away, Bradli’s eyelids fluttered open, a blush now present on their cheeks. Hell, even the tips of their ears were tinged that same champagne tone.

 

        “Was that unpredictable enough for you?

 

        Bradli shrugged, that same smirk before finally making a comeback. “I expected it, but I didn’t expect… that.”

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