Hello, everyone! I know, I literally haven't written a single thing in ages. I lost my drive to write, to be perfectly honest. But then I happened to talk with one of my best friends. We were talking about this little animation she had shown me called "Welcome to Hell". She mentioned how funny it would be if Jonathan figured out that Sock wasn't as young as he appeared to be. For those who haven't seen "Welcome to Hell", Jonathan and Sock are two of the main characters. I asked if I could turn it into a prompt, she kindly gave me permission to use her idea, and here we are. By the way, the mention of Dan Well's book is a little shout-out to my best friend. Thanks, cos-cos! I love you bunchs! Anywho…enjoy the story, everyone! Thanks for reading!

!QUICK WARNING!

"Welcome to Hell" does delve into more sensitive topics, including suicide and the like. So please be prepared for any possible triggers and please, please do not read if this makes you extremely uncomfortable or upset.

Sock floated around giddily, chuckling. Even though he had yet to make Jonathan do the reasonable thing and kill himself, something had happened to make the dorky little ghost happy.

****************************** Two Hours Earlier ******************************

"What do you mean?" Sock asked, frowning. "Why can't we date? My being dead hasn't bothered you before."

Jonathan internally groaned; that frown was nothing but infuriatingly adorable. "We can't date because I'm almost seventeen, and you're only, like, twelve. I couldn't give a fuck about your being a damn ghost."

Sock stared at Jonathan for all of five seconds before bursting to raucous laughter. Now it was the living boy's turn to frown adorably. "What the hell are you laughing about, Sock? That's a weird reaction, even for you…"

Sock, struggling to control himself, cartwheeled in the air, clutching his stomach. Jonathan crossed his arms, waiting for the want-to-be poltergeist's guffaws to subside. "Well?" He questioned, feeling embarrassed and more than a little flustered.

"Sorry, sorry!" Sock gasped, wiping tears from his eyes. "I was just surprised. I'm not twelve, Jonathan."

If jaws could literally drop to the floor, Jonathan's would've crashed through to the core of the earth. "What the fuck do you mean, you're not twelve?!"

The spirit shook his head, smiling. His fluffy hair bounced as he did so; though Jonathan would never verbally admit it, he loved Sock's hair, and he sulked whenever Sock covered it with his hat and goggles.

"I meant exactly what I just said. I'm not twelve; if I hadn't killed myself, I would've turned nineteen a month ago."

The taller boy opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and closed it once more. He was, for lack of a better term, in shock. He had assumed that the little dork haunting him had been twelve, thirteen at the most. Now he was learning that Sock would've been nineteen, a full two years older than he was! Then something else registered in Jonathan's mind.

"Wait, your birthday was a month ago, and you didn't say anything?" He questioned slowly.

Sock shrugged, not seeing Jonathan's point. "It would've been my birthday." He corrected gently. "I'm dead, so it's not like I have a birthday or any reason to celebrate. My entire purpose is getting you to off yourself, remember?" Though he said it casually and with his usual cheerful gusto, Sock was hurting just a little on the inside. Jonathan had long ago learned to pick up on the smaller male's emotions and frowned.

"So, what if you're dead? That doesn't mean you shouldn't be able to celebrate your birthday!" Jonathan exclaimed. Sock floated a few feet away, taken aback. He had never seen Jonathan display so much emotion before. Jonathan wasn't done, however. "You clearly haven't ceased to exist, and I know you still feel things. Like right now, you're sad because you feel like you can't even celebrate your own damn birthday! Well, I call absolute fucking bullshit on this." He grabbed Sock's wrist, which, oddly enough, wasn't a surprise to either boy. Jonathan had already wined that, by wishing for it, he could touch Sock. What was surprising to Sock was that Jonathan seemed to want to take him somewhere.

"W-where are we going, Jonathan?" Sock stammered, trying to pull away. Jonathan turned and raised an eyebrow. Sock hadn't acted so shy since they had figured out the touching situation.

"Dude, calm down. We're going to buy a cake and some party shit. Quit acting like I'm going to banish you back to Hell."

Sock obeyed, calming down. He was still confused, though. "Party stuff?" He questioned, raising one delicate eyebrow as he allowed Jonathan to lead himself outside.

"Um, duh. We're going to celebrate your birthday, dude, and you're going to explain why you look like a damn twelve- year-old."

Sock froze for just a moment, then smiled, tears appearing in his green eyes. Jonathan turned again, confused and irritated about the lack of movement. "What is it now?" He snapped, then froze himself, gazing at the smaller, floating male. Sock shook his head.

"Nothing. Let's go, kay?" Jonathan shook his head and grinned before continuing on his way, his soon-to-be boyfriend floating along behind.

***************************** Back to the Present *******************************

Sock grinned, bobbing around the house on his back. His grin widened, and he tested the words out verbally. "The house."

Jonathan walked in, carrying a small parcel. He chuckled and shook his head at the sight of Sock. The object of affection in question turned his head slightly and squealed, racing over to Jonathan. The blonde let out a grunt as the tiny spirit hugged him tightly.

"All right, all right. I missed you too, sweetheart." Sock mewled happily and rested his head on Jonathan's chest. "Want to see your birthday present?" The tiny spirit nodded excitedly and took the parcel from Jonathan. Tearing apart the paper, he gazed in bewildered wonderment at the novel in his pale hands.

I Am Not a Serial Killer by Dan Wells.

Sock looked up at Jonathan, remaining silent for a brief moment, and hugged the other male tightly.

"Thanks." He mumbled, snuggling close. Jonathan smiled and hummed in response, holding his little spirit tightly.

"You're welcome."

Yes. Jonathan had done several things that day to make Sock happy. He could honestly say it had been the best birthday ever.