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“Woah, woah, Fugo! Are you alright?” Mista asked him as he answered the apartment door in a rush, not expecting to see a fully-drenched Fugo.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He said in the most composed voice he could muster, proceeding to wipe his eyes and walk straight into the building while looking at the ground.
Mista knew something was wrong with his roommate. It may fool the average person, but he’d known Fugo long enough to know that he was preventing his voice from cracking when he spoke, staring holes into the ground to stop the tears threatening to fall before they even do so, and powering through the entrance to not even consider how dirty his wet dress shoes are going to make the wooden apartment floor look. At least he took off his soaking wet coat, placing it on the hook directly behind the door. Mista didn’t notice that he was staring at him the entire time before he snapped back into reality.
“Are you sure about that?” Fugo gave him a confused look, answering a statement after seconds of pausing would make anyone confused. “About you being fine, I mean. Anyways, if you need anyone to talk to, I’m right here. I’m no therapist, but I’d be happy to help you go through your shit or whatever.” He had tried to be comforting, to the best of his extent.
At least Fugo got his memo, smiling warmly in response to it.
“Thanks Mista. I’ll consider it.” He nodded his head in gratitude and started to head towards his room to get a new pair of clothes, hopefully something more comfortable this time.
“No problemo. If you knock on the door, I’ll be there asap. Promise.”
“Alright, alright.” He continued to walk until Mista stopped him abruptly.
“Hey, hey! Don’t fuck up the floor. Take off your damn shoes.” His once comforting demeanor turned into a pissed one in an instant, not wanting to stain their floor.
“Well I’m fucking sorry that I was distracted enough to not pay attention to what I’m doing! What do you expect me to be, a saint?” Fugo snapped back.
“Practically, since you complain to me whenever I do something slightly wrong, but now that I do it once for a change, you go all out on me instead!”
Instead of letting this become the beginning of an argument, Fugo decides to stop it, knowing he isn’t in the right mind for it. He can barely trust himself regularly, but it’s a whole different story when he is already affected by something that happened previously.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get mad.” He admitted, followed by a sigh. “Something happened while I was at Narancia’s place, and…” Fugo trailed off, biting his tongue to prevent him from oversharing. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll tell you later.”
“It’s fine, it’s no big deal. Besides, I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to overreact at all as well.” Mista apologized back to him, although he noticed that Fugo was acting more off than usual. It’s not every day he backs out from an argument. “Truce?” He asks with a cocked eyebrow and an arm sticking out, ready to receive a handshake.
“Truce.” Fugo walked over to him after placing his well-stained shoes on the bottom row of their shared shoe rack, shaking on it until he left to go into his room, presumably to do what he was planning on before.
~~~
Less than an hour later, Mista heard the knock on his bedroom door. He said that he would answer it in an instant, but it was hard to when he couldn’t peel off his eyes from the fight with Vecna. At least he was a loyal friend, not disobeying his own promises. He closed his old laptop, it’s a miracle how it is still working today. As if Fugo didn’t understand what his friend was trying to do, he started walking away. The faint sound of footsteps frightened Mista, it caught him off-guard. He didn’t want Fugo to think he didn’t care about him, when it was really the opposite. He immediately jumped out of his bed and tried to navigate his room through the red led lights he had placed on the crevices of his walls.
“Hey, hey! Don’t leave yet.” Mista called out as soon as he opened the door. Fugo shuffled into his room when he heard the invitation, looking like a burrito running on two legs. It surprised Mista how Fugo didn’t end up tripping on his own blanket, let alone how he was able to move at all wrapped like that. A few seconds later, he was finally able to catch up to him, and they both sat on the gunslinger’s bed.
“Sorry about that.” He started, trying to start a conversation with his sad roommate. “I know something’s troubling you, feel free to vent all you want.”
“Oh… okay.” Fugo started, getting lost in his own words. “So, uhh, I was with Narancia today at their apartment—“ He cut himself off, although it was weird to hear someone as put-together as him stuttering. “You already know that, sorry.” Fugo looked down at his hands and started to fidget with them, Mista knew something was wrong, but this seemed too out of character for one of his closest friends.
“No, no, don’t apologize. It’s fine, take as much time as you need.”
“Okay. I was hanging out with them for a couple hours, and it was fine at first.” He paused, trying to think of the right words to say. “Although, they started to talk about some plans with Trish that they had. Apparently they’re both going to a coffee shop tomorrow, and then after that, they will be at the book store.”
“Okay…” Mista was trying to make this make sense. Why would Narancia tell Fugo about their plans? Why would they bring them up right now? He doesn’t have a clear answer, but hopefully his confusion can be resolved later on. “What else did they tell you?”
“Don’t you notice that they talk about Trish often? I mean, she’s extremely nice, pretty, and a great friend, but it wouldn’t hurt to just talk about normal things with me. I don’t wanna hear about a girl that they probably like, let alone is about to go on a date with her too.” Fugo’s eyes looked the saddest they’ve ever been for the entire day. He blindly felt around the bed until he snatched a pillow that he could hug for emotional support. Mista didn’t know what to say or how to react, so the least he could do is rub his shoulder, not without permission at least.
“Is this fine?” He asked as he awkwardly started to do what he set to. Mista knew Fugo was squeamish with touch, he never tried to push further, but he knew the bare minimum of his childhood, so he decided to proceed this with caution before he gets an encyclopedia stuck in his skull next.
“Yes, it is. Thanks.” He hugged the pillow even tighter than before— if it was even possible, and he started to tremble worse than he did a few seconds ago.
“It’s no problem at all, don’t stress it.” He replied, knowing fully well why he was this sad in the first place. In hindsight, it doesn’t seem like a big deal, but if you have fallen hard enough for your best friend, the world isn’t the same anymore.
“I’m happy for them, like a good friend would be, but it hurts on the inside, you know? I have no idea why I am feeling this way, but it’s pissing me off. Besides, it feels like I am the only one who thinks this way. I feel so out of place and I hate it.” Fugo dug his nails into the pillow, while Mista was still rubbing his back, now realizing what was the problem.
“Sorry for the change of topics here, but you told me you were gay, right?”
“Umm, yeah. What does that have to do with this?” He tuned his head around to look at Mista like a confused puppy.
“You said you don’t know why you feel like this, and that you feel like you’re alone because of it,”
He slowly started, thinking of the wisest way to go upon this subject. “even though I’ve felt this too. Most of the world feels like this.”
“They have?” Fugo asked quietly, now looking at him like a little kid who received an ice cream cone from their dad.
“Yup. It may sound cliché, but you’re in love with Narancia, Fugo.”
“Oh…” It must have clicked for him, because it looked like tons of thoughts were racing throughout his head.
“I mean, it makes sense. You talk about them like I used to talk about my exes. Besides, I bet they feels the same.” Mista said, feeling smart that he helped solve Fugo’s inner confusion.
“How? They are literally going on a date with her.”
“Just watch and see.” As he said that, he reached for his phone that was on the nightstand. It was the same case as his computer, it was too cracked to function, even if he was now calling Narancia on speaker. The phone’s distorted vibration echoed in the tiny, red room as Fugo and Mista both held their breaths, waiting for them to pick up.
“Hey bro! What are you doing right now?” Narancia’s excited voice echoed through the speaker.
“Not much, just watching Stranger Things. What about you brochacho?” Fugo shifted his place on the bed, making sure not to make any noise.
“Agh, lucky youuuu! I’m trying to watch this movie that Bucciarati recommended to me, but I don’t like it so far. He’s really a weird dude for liking this, let alone recommending it to me. Saying, ‘I’ll like it too’.”
“Wouldn’t watching that make you weird too?” He asked while raising his eyebrow, even if Narancia wasn’t here to see his puzzled face.
“Shut up!” Narancia said, following with a small grunt. Mista turned his head to look at his roommate, and his suspicions were 100% confirmed when he saw Fugo’s red face staring at the bed while going back to hugging the pillow.
“Wait, do you have any plans tomorrow?” Mista asked, finally trying to get both of their attentions. Which worked, because Fugo’s head whipped towards him instantly, while Narancia was starting to answer.
“Yeah, with Trish. We are going to that one small coffee shop, and then the bookstore after that. I really don’t wanna miss out on this though because it’s the only time she’s available this week.” Fugo frowned and went back to his original position, but Mista didn’t want him to be upset for much longer.
“Ooh, that’s nice! What are you both doing?” He asked, hopefully to get the answer he wants.
“Well, since she has, like, the most ‘experience’ out of all of us, she’s gonna help me confess to Fugo!”
That took a turn that Mista nor Fugo fully expected. The latter was beet red at this point, preventing himself from squealing and kicking his feet like a lovesick schoolgirl. What he did do though, was be more attentive, just in case he said anything else that would drive him insane, in the good way.
“Oh my god! That’s awesome, go you!” Mista replied, feeling a sense of euphoria from being Fugo and Narancia’s matchmaker. “When do you plan on doing it? How long have you wanted to do it for?”
“Okay, okay, I plan on doing it on his birthday, it’s soon, but I really don’t want to ruin his special day with my stupid confession, and I’ve wanted to do this since…” Narancia was probably counting time on their fingers, since they stopped speaking. While, the speaker was fuzzy. “About three years or so.”
“Geez, that’s a long time. I know you won’t ruin his birthday though, I can bet on that. I need to go now, but good luck! I know you can do it!” Mista said, both of the people in the room about to burst from excitement.
“Alright, alright. See you bro.”
“See ya.”
A buzz came from the phone, showing that the call ended. Once it did happen, Fugo screamed into the pillow and kicked his feet. While, Mista was laughing, feeing like the best person in the world for making this happen.
“Dude, I’m so happy for you!” Mista started, seeing that Fugo was beginning to calm down. “I honestly did not expect the conversation to take that turn, but I’m fully prepared to be the third wheel now.” He said with a smug smile tugging at his lips.
“Shut upppp.” In response to that, Fugo shoved his head forwards into the pillow and groaned, which made Mista laugh hysterically.
“Don’t laugh at me!”
“Sorry, sorry.” He apologized after letting his laughter die out. “At least it’s nice to know that they don’t actually like her.”
“Yeah. I really felt like I was going to shit myself and then run back to my room crying if that was the case.” As soon as he said that, Mista erupted into another fit of laughter, louder than last time.
“Oh-oh my god!” He said in between loud laughs. “I never thought you could be anything but serious!” As if that was on cue, Fugo stood up and stormed out of the room, not caring to bring his blanket back.
“Woah, woah, I’m sorry dude.” Mista grabbed onto Fugo’s blanket that was wrapped around himself like a burrito earlier and chased after him. “Here you go.”
Fugo received it and bunched it up until it was a thick ball that he carried in his arms. “Thank you.” He said, pausing for a bit before saying something else. “Thanks for everything else too, I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”
“Hey, hey. Don’t be sorry, you never have to apologize for things like this. You’re all good.” Mista shot a smile of reassurance, hoping Fugo would get the drift, which he did. “And, no problem! It’s just bros helping bros, not a big deal.”
“Alright. Good night Mista, have good dreams I guess.” Fugo settled on saying, he really didn’t know how to continue their conversation.
“I guess? And you too.” Mista said with a slight chuckle, turning on his heel to enter that red sinkhole of a room.
Fugo realized three things tonight; that he had a crush on one of his best friends, that they liked him back, and that he was really fucking lucky to be best “bros” (and roommates) with someone as kind as Mista, even if he usually didn’t act the part. He walked into his room, his eyes scanning his surroundings until they landed on the framed photos of him and Narancia in front of the colosseum, and Mista and him at their local arcade. Both photos made him smile, even as he went onto his bed and tucked himself in.
~~~
Three days later, Narancia gave him a card, a pot of gardenias, and a book series Fugo has been planning to read for a while