Hey! First things first, so sorry I didn't get to post this yesterday! I was very busy! Don't worry, though, I'll try to have Act 45 up today/tomorrow with Act 46. So yeah. And as an additional apology, a bit more fun business contained herein.
Second, if you haven't read the snippet of my pre-Hivebent fic (the snippet being the one called "Mistakes of my Blood"), you are wrong. Read it, tell me what you think, but don't bother following it because the snippet is complete and when I actually post the fic, it'll be a completely new document. (PLEASE STOP FOLLOWING COMPLETED FICS IT'S POINTLESS SORRY BUT I JUST GET KIND OF BOTHERED AND IT'S QUITE A FEW PEOPLE DOING THIS AGAIN SORRY :( )
Anyway, many thanks to CatastrophicAquarius, Wolfen Artist of Hetalia, Rand0mAn0nym0u2, Bear, obsessed01616, SmileyFacesSmile, LinkinPark X, thepeopleofthecrysis, DarkBlueMahogany, and Bitblondetoday for your reviews to the last act, and iDreamBig, I'm so glad your surgery went well!
Most of Sunday was spent in a flurry of cleaning up, throwing clothing haphazardly in duffel bags, and shoving the furniture back where it belonged. Eridan's parents must have called the housekeeper and told her not to come in while they were there, because he didn't see a sign of her at all, but that was probably for the best. It wasn't like he didn't know how to do laundry, after all—he washed his clothes before packing them up and told everyone else they could do the same if they wanted. Most of them had swim suits they'd washed the day before anyway.
Around noon, after he woke up, he got the feeling that Sol wanted to talk to him since just about every time he looked at him, Sol was looking right back. Sol would look away quickly, and it confused and irritated Eridan; they weren't in high school—if he had something to say, he could say it.
Then again, he was feeling pretty apprehensive himself, if he had to admit it. He wasn't sure what Sol wanted to say to him, but his reluctance was making Eridan nervous.
Before he left, he went up to his room to look around and check to see if there was anything else in his room he wanted to bring back with him. At first glance, there was nothing, but he looked closer and spotted his iPod on the windowsill and crossed the room to pocket it. As he did so, he heard footsteps behind him and turned around, and a surge of nerves coursed through him. There was Sol standing in the doorway, looking as anxious as he felt and looking around the room, anywhere but at Eridan. Still Eridan chanced a small smile. "Hey, Sol. W-what's up?"
Sol didn't answer his question directly. He simply looked around for a few more moments and nodded slightly, as if in answer to another question that hadn't been asked. "So this is your room?"
"Heh. Yeah. It didn't look like this w-when I w-was still liv-vin' here, though. It used to be a lot messier, but I got better at that."
Sol took a few steps inside to better take in the décor, and Eridan suddenly realized how stupid all the posters and high-school-era photography still tacked to his walls must have looked. He really was the pathetic hipster agenda personified, wasn't he? He certainly hadn't set out to become the quintessential hipster kid, but a glance in the mirror—dyed hair with an artful streak, thick glasses that he needed but nevertheless only added to the persona, three days' worth of scruff on his face, button-down purple plaid flannel shirt, dark jeans that hugged his legs through the knees and only gave a bit of extra room below, obscure-label vegan shoes, a nearly-perpetual condescending expression—confirmed that he'd definitely achieved it. That was before he took into account the four different vintage cameras he owned (and took care of well, something that was possible when you were rich enough), the MacBook Pro and Mac desktop, and his coffee addiction. At least the majority of the music on his iPod wasn't obscure hipster singer-songwriter groups and Death Cab For Cutie. Still, it was enough to make him horribly self-conscious.
Sol didn't look incredibly bothered or repelled by it, though. He surveyed the walls and bookcase with a simple curiosity one would expect from being in the bedroom of someone they were romantically interested in. That thought—that Sol was possibly, probably romantically interested in him—made him want to bury his face in his hands and curl up into a giddy ball on his bed, but he restrained himself. He definitely had a bit of a crush on Sol, and it wasn't even close to being funny.
"Witchcraft?" Sol asked abruptly, leaning down to scan the titles of the books on Eridan's shelves.
"Uh. Heh. Yeah. W-well, more like W-Wicca."
"There's a difference?" Sol looked at him, an eyebrow raised.
"Yeah. Wicca is more of an amalgamation of several different faiths—it has some elements of traditional witchcraft, some Eastern philosophies, some Greek and Roman stuff, an' it's relatively modern. It's really always changin' with people addin' more ideas as it progresses. It's also really ritual-oriented an' stuff, makin' sure you're doin' things like spells an' stuff with the right tools an' on the right day an' stuff like that. Witchcraft is generally a lot simpler than all that, a lot more to do with respectin' gods an' stuff an' more into nature." Eridan cleared his throat, looking sheepish. He'd been asked that question a lot and he was surprised to realize he still had the spiel still pretty much memorized.
Sol blinked at him. "Okay. I didn't follow any of that."
Eridan sighed, but it came out as a laugh. "Just... trust me. There's a difference."
"And your parents were cool with you just... studying witch—Wicca?"
He nodded. "My parents are kind a'... well, their philosophy is that if you tell a kid he can't do somethin', he's gonna want to do it that much more, especially a teenager. So they let me study it. They said that as long as I wasn't sacrificin' chickens or messin' around with Ouija boards an' the Necronomicon, they were fine with it."
Sol half-grinned. "So you never sacrificed a chicken?"
"Nah. I could never seem to locate a live one."
He actually flat-out laughed at that, and Eridan couldn't help but smile at the fact that Sol was laughing and he'd made him laugh. It was a nice feeling, one that flooded him with warmth. Once Sol finished laughing, he asked, "So do you still practice Wicca?"
"Nah. No time anymore. Never found a coven around here, either—shocking, I know. No Wicca practitioners near Los Angeles, go figure. At least, none that wanted some eighteen-year-old poser involved with them." Eridan gave a self-deprecating smile. "Not that I blame them now. I was kind of a little shit."
"Was?" Sol asked with a grin and a quirked eyebrow.
"Hey, fuck you. That was uncalled-for." Eridan spared a second to grin. "So I don't really have a religion anymore. My mom's Jewish an' my dad's Protestant, but they kinda left the whole religious thing up to me an' Cro. They're big on the whole not forcing their beliefs on people thing."
"Wow. That's really cool, actually. My mom is agnostic, but my dad..." Sol seemed to freeze for a second before shaking his head. "Never mind."
"No, what about your dad?" Eridan asked, genuinely curious, but Sol just shook his head again, harder.
"I don't want to talk about him right now," he murmured, staring at the carpeting.
Eridan bit his and nodded, letting it go. He really wanted to know what Sol had been about to say, though.
"Right. Well. Um, anyway." Sollux rubbed his arm nervously. "Look. I get that the whole liking a guy thing is probably weird for you, and that's fine. I... um, if you need time or whatever, that's fine. I don't want you feel like I'm gonna make you do anything you don't want to do or, like, do anything you're not ready for. And anyway, it's been a couple years since I had any semblance of a relationship at all and that ended horribly so this is actually a little weird for me, too. Like, I don't even know how relationships are supposed to work or whatever—not that this is, like, an actual relationship or something; I don't even know what you'd call it but anyway, I just... well, anyway, this has been sufficiently awkward so I'll just leave now." He turned to go, feeling like a total idiot and not even daring to look up at Eridan as he'd spoken. He just felt awkward all over.
Then a hand settled on his arm, keeping him from leaving, and when he looked up, Eridan was gazing at him unblinkingly. "Wait," he said, "just wait. You're not even gonna let me answer?"
"Sorry," Sollux muttered. "I... I don't know. I guess I thought maybe you wouldn't want to say anything."
"Well, I do. So just hang on a second, okay?" Eridan gave him a small smile and dropped his hand, although Sollux wished he hadn't. It was nice to have even that small amount of physical contact between them. He wasn't generally a very touchy person—Aradia hugged him from time to time, as did Terezi, but for the most part, he preferred to not be touched—but for some reason, Eridan was the exception.
"Okay."
"Okay." Eridan nodded. "Well, you're right about the first part—liking a guy is pretty fuckin' weird for me, but I've dealt with weird an' weirder before. It's a different kind a' weird, I guess. It changed basically everythin', you know? An', like, I don't really know how I'd label this, you know? It doesn't really feel like anythin' yet. Like, what have we done? Mack on each other a couple a' times an' get caught by my brother both times."
"Good thing he's not here anymore," Sollux said without thinking, and then nearly smacked his forehead. Eridan grinned.
"Why, Sol, are you thinkin' a' mackin' on me again?"
Sollux flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. True, the thought wasn't often far from his mind, but he hadn't realized how close to the surface it had been. "Not at all."
"You're a' awful liar."
"Only when I'm not trying."
Eridan's grin stayed firmly in place. "I'll keep that in mind. Anyway." His smile slipped, replaced by a more serious expression. "In regards to your other concern, the one about not wantin' me to feel like I gotta do somethin' I don't wanna... That's not gonna happen. I don't do anythin' I don't wanna do. Just... well, fuck, Sol, I'm a bit nervous about the whole thin', okay? So, yeah, I guess I'm gonna need some time to get used to this. But as weird as it sounds, I do actually like you. So I guess we'll just have to see where this goes, huh?"
Sollux gave him a small, nervous smile. "Yeah."
"You should come over tomorrow after school."
Sollux very nearly protested on the grounds of Cronus's nearly assured presence (his track record so far was two for two, and Sollux didn't like those odds), but then remembered that Eridan still wanted to continue their stupid prank war. With access to Eridan's home, there would be ample opportunity to lay nefarious traps for the little douche that he hadn't had before. So as he started wondering where he could buy a ridiculous amount of toothpaste, he nodded. "Yeah. Okay. Sounds good."
Eridan grinned again, and without missing a beat, he pulled Sollux against his chest and kissed him. It was different from the other times, with less of an edge; it was gentler, easier, as though Eridan wasn't trying to push this too far right now, but it was still enough to drive every thought that wasn't Eridan out of Sollux's mind, including the toothpaste question.
He balled his hands into fists at his sides, unsure if it was okay for him to touch Eridan. He wanted to, wanted to run his hands up Eridan's sides, wanted to cup his cheeks and kiss back, harder and more intensely, but as he heard a thump from downstairs, he became acutely aware that the bedroom door was wide open and anyone could run up the stairs and get a good look at the two of them making out. He didn't know if Eridan was fine with that or if he didn't realize the door was still open.
And then Eridan deepened the kiss, one hand going to the back of Sollux's neck and the other arm wrapping around his waist, and Sollux stopped caring. Their glasses clacking together, his fingers traced along the roots of Eridan's hair, stiff with gel but still somehow soft, down his neck, over the line of his jaw (here, Eridan let out a faint moan and seemed to tremble slightly), down to his collarbone. Sollux only tore his mouth away from Eridan's to kiss and finally suck on the hollow of his throat and run his tongue over Eridan's clavicle, pushing the collar of his shirt aside, and the shorter boy ran his fingers through Sollux's hair, his head tipping back to allow Sollux better access. "Fuck, Sol," he murmured, definitely trembling now, "you're really fuckin' good at that."
Sollux wanted to back him up to the bed, shove him down, strip them both, spread him open, and fuck him as hard as he could. Eridan would make the most delicious sounds in bed, he probably wouldn't let go of Sollux, and hearing his name on Eridan's lips might drive him crazy. Sollux unconsciously bit down on Eridan's collarbone, and Eridan murmured an obscenity and dug his fingers into Sollux's scalp. The taller boy had to remind himself that they were trying to leave soon, the bedroom door was wide open, and Eridan probably didn't have any lube and there was no way he was doing this without lubricant, especially not for Eridan's first time, but it took almost thirty seconds for him to rein in his impulses and slow down, gently pulling himself back.
"We should probably get back down there," he murmured, straightening his bicolored classes.
Eridan nodded slowly, numbly, his large purple eyes seemingly larger than normal behind his own glasses and his pupils so dilated, there was only a thin ring of color around them. Sollux suddenly felt like Eridan could see everything he'd ever done or ever would do.
As he led Eridan out of his room and down the stairs, though, he realized it was the first time they hadn't been interrupted while making out, and he felt himself smiling.
I really can't wait for the smut because these two are horny little fuckers.
