Archive of Our Own ^beta

floyd catches wind of it the way he catches wind of most things: through azul and jade.

incidentally, azul and goldfish have been getting along (no pun intended, he swears) swimmingly following the incident (as everyone has been calling it), so when floyd hears from azul that goldfish needs someone to act as a fake date he practically jumps at the chance.

there's nothing behind it. he hasn't been mildly obsessed with goldfish ever since their orientation. he swears up and down it's just a mild fascination. he'll get over it.

"i don't see why you can't just admit you have a crush on him," jade says, because jade is a bastard, "especially now since you're going to be spending a week with him."

that would make it worse, is what he doesn't say.

"i don't have a crush on him," is, by contrast, what he does say. "goldfish is goldfish. i just think he's interesting."

"which is why you're fake dating him for a week," jade's doing that thing where he pretends to follow along with floyd's thought process, so floyd levels him with a withering glare, "to study him in his natural habitat."

he throws a pillow at jade.

"if you're not gonna help me pack, get out of the room," it comes out petulant, but floyd can't bring it in him to care, what with how blatantly unhelpful jade is being.

inevitably it doesn't matter, considering how jade leaves the room with a cackle.

two days later (floyd had done his packing early, a shock to anyone who knew him; he was just so full of energy, really), floyd meets goldfish at the mirror chamber. the leave forms are all signed (housewarden's orders!), so they're just waiting to go.

goldfish is pacing the length of the chamber, like he's endlessly worried. like he's ready to jump out of his skin. like he's a fish out of water (ha).

"goldfish, you're gonna start a fire," floyd's really being observant this time, seen as there's several torches on the walls and they've been increasing in intensity as goldfish has been pacing.

regardless, he gets a stare in return for his (helpful!) remark. 

"are you going to call me that the whole trip," and well. it's not phrased as a question.

floyd grins.

"of course!" he says. "just say it's a pet name, or whatever."

goldfish scrunches up his face at that. like he can't imagine it.

(not like floyd calls anyone else goldfish.)

"whatever," goldfish mutters, "just try not to be too brash. as long as you can behave, i think i just might escape."

according to azul, goldfish had hurriedly been searching for a fake date as his mother was expressing a desire to set him up with some arranged marriage, that would've happened before he graduated.

floyd thinks that goldfish's mother is an idiot if she can't see the worth in letting a goldfish swim free. to grow, of course.

regardless, floyd's latent sense of justice hadn't led him here. by contrast, it's distinctly floyd's desire to, sigh, in jade's words, "study him in his natural habitat."

shut up.

he doesn't have a crush.

or a mild obsession.

he's fine.

"i'll try my best," floyd answers back, chipper. "i can't promise full marks, though."

goldfish considers. 

floyd knows he's gotten a bit less stuck up since his overblot. knows he's entertained more (even played with him, once!). knows it's a struggle, anyway, knows how much it probably feels like pulling teeth (not that he cares to share that, anyway). but he doesn't expect the response he gets:

"i suppose that'll do."

goldfish's mother, floyd discovers, is a tired old hag.

shockingly, to floyd anyway, goldfish's father is still in the picture. but he's withdrawn, overshadowed by his overbearing wife. 

floyd fights the urge (ha, isn't that unheard of?) multiple times throughout the night to stand in front of goldfish whenever his mother slips close.

goldfish is the very picture of a saint when interacting with his mother. floyd goes for polite, because he thinks having to play saintly would push him directly into bored territory, and then the goldfish bowl would really catch fire.

regardless of his fighting urges, he's clingy. goldfish lets him; they'd discussed it beforehand. the dating would be more believable, he'd said.

floyd finds it easy to touch him. he's always been fond of squeezing, but he's mostly just hanging; off his head, his shoulders, grasping his wrist or hand or pinky. sneaks a cheek kiss in, at some points.

goldfish goes stock still the first time it happens.

like he wasn't expecting it.

(he wasn't.)

he plays it off as expecting his mother to yell.

she doesn't, shockingly, but floyd can tell her patience is wearing thin as floyd increases his clinginess tenfold.

it's riddle who insists on floyd sharing a room with him, although he justifies it by saying the rosehearts don't have a guest room. floyd's surprised (for several reasons; the house is huge, for one, and secondly, he doesn't think riddle ever wants to be around him for extended periods of time), additionally, by how easily mrs. rosehearts' caves.

the longer he's been at the house, the more he dislikes her.

when they're safely in riddle's room,

"goldfish, your mother fucking sucks," he's ripping that bandaid off as fast as possible. he's shocked he lasted this long.

riddle must be too, by the way he blinks.

"i mean, yeah," he says, but it comes out hesitant. like it's a struggle.

floyd doesn't find he has the heart in him to pry.

he sets up a sleeping bag on the floor for that night.

the second day, riddle finds time to drag floyd around to explore the queendom. this works out, as floyd's never been, although they get distracted and floyd pulls riddle through a thoroughly new market set up on the square.

riddle does show him the clover bakery, and they share a tart between the two of them.

floyd swears to secrecy, of course. at riddle's behest, anyway.

(silently, he compares riddle's life with his home life, and feels the need to introduce riddle to the leeches. to show him what life could be. "why can't you just admit you have a crush on him?" jade had asked. floyd has his answer.)

"isn't the queendom an archipelago?" he's working on recent geography knowledge (the sea is both more complex and less complex in spades), "shouldn't there be a beach somewhere?"

"it's an archipelago, yes," riddle's tone is somewhat taken aback, though, "i think there's a beach? we're somewhat a port town, anyway, but i've never been."

floyd's struck with a great idea.

"goldfish," he starts. riddle opens his mouth to say something, so floyd covers it with his hand, "goldfish, we're going to the beach."

riddle tries to make a case to postpone it for the next day, but floyd isn't having any of it. the beach isn't far at all from riddle's hometown nor his childhood home, and armed with a phone map, floyd practically drags him to it.

"floyd- floyd, i can't even swim!" riddle protests behind him, though he's not making a great case, in floyd's opinion.

"don't gotta, at the beach," he insists, "we can walk it, or something."

like a date!, and isn't the jade voice in his head really, really annoying, how much it sounds like the real jade.

floyd imagines beating up the little jade in his mind, just to make himself feel better.

at the beach, though, goldfish's stream of protests seem to have finally run their course. he's speechless, walking towards the tide like it's taking him in.

it occurs to floyd that while riddle's seen a beach before, it's obviously not this one; so close to home, too.

"how is it?" floyd asks, softer than he means.

goldfish is distracted, still, by the waves, and floyd has the forethought to grasp his forearm before he walks fully out to sea without thinking about it, only for goldfish to shirk floyd's light grasp on his arm and grab his hand instead.

floyd flushes slightly.

"...wow," goldfish says. his eyes haven't left the horizon. "it's prettier than i thought."

floyd's content to just watch goldfish be taken aback, but he gets surprised by goldfish turning back to him, like he hasn't been staring a hole in the back of his head.

"you live more northern, right?" goldfish asks, (and isn't that crazy, that goldfish remembers something that probably only came up once), "how different is it?"

"...quieter," they're both whispering. the waves are louder than any of their voices, like the moment will shatter if they go above that volume, "used to get rid of the noise in my head exploring shipwrecks and frozen caves."

goldfish blinks, but he doesn't ask for further elaboration. just hums and goes to stare more at the horizon.

"i'll take you, one day," floyd says, suddenly, without thinking. "there's probably a beach nearby to my hometown. we could go in summer."

goldfish hesitates (floyd can feel him tense), before he steps back, and tucks himself around floyd's arm. he's pointedly not making eye contact. floyd's face flushes again.

"okay," riddle whispers it.

floyd twists his wrist to latch onto goldfish's for a moment.

"pinky promise," it comes out a murmur more than anything, like it's a secret.

it probably is a secret.

floyd drags goldfish around the beach for at least another hour, hunting down seashells and sea glass. he presses a nearly perfectly round, red piece in goldfish's grasp, right before they leave.

goldfish doesn't ask for an explanation.

which is good, because floyd doesn't think he could've answered.

they come back to the rosehearts house smelling of sea salt, which prompts mrs. rosehearts to scrunch up her nose.

fuck her, floyd autofills in his mind. maybe they'd both forgotten to mention, but she should get used to sea salt. he's literally an eel.

wait, what does he mean "get used to"? this is a one time thing. goldfish is probably being so weird because floyd's doing him a favor.

(and not being the menace that he usually is. holding himself back. the jade in his head doesn't even fill this in, he's digging his own grave now.)

"you almost missed dinner," her voice is clipped, like she wanted them to miss, "do not make a habit of this, we have people to meet tomorrow."

goldfish's "yes, mother," sounds meeker than usual.

when they're alone in goldfish's room, floyd moves his sleeping bag slightly closer to goldfish's bed. either goldfish doesn't notice; or, more likely, he chooses not to comment, because he does set himself up closer to the edge.

"i'm sorry," goldfish says quietly, "she's a lot."

"not your fault," floyd responds, equally as subdued, "she sucks so bad, though."

floyd sees goldfish's eyes flick down to him in the sleeping bag. he doesn't say anything to respond, but floyd already knows that he agrees.

(he doesn't say anything about holding himself back; he hates it, really, on more than one level. he's caging himself, just a bit, for goldfish's sake. but he can't phrase it like that, not really, not when it's so fragile in this room.)

(not when riddle's so fragile with this peace, either.)

(everytime they give, it feels like the other just takes. maybe they're finally coming to an understanding.)

the third day, goldfish seems to have resigned himself to getting dolled up. floyd spends much of the day bored, tapping out rhythms and trying not to cause any messes; to limited success, anyway, he dips close to riddle at a halfway point and tells him to text when it gets close, and then he leaves to go explore the queendom on his own.

he doesn't get lost, mostly due to a map app he loads up (for the first time, ever) on his phone. well, that and he remembers most of the layout from their exploration the other day.

when goldfish texts him, he specifies that floyd has roughly an hour left.

but, and of course there's a but, he should get back earlier so as to not set off mrs. rosehearts.

as much as floyd wants to see her go redder than goldfish, wants to see her snap so he can squeeze even harder, he's already dedicated himself to trying to make as little problems as possible.

he gets back in under twenty minutes.

goldfish fusses over him, just a bit, to make him look neater, and floyd's got a creeping sensation that he's going to hate losing this.

("how's that crush?" jade fills in, in his head, and floyd imagines strangling his brother for the second time this week.)

apparently, the person they were meeting was one of mrs. rosehearts' preferred candidates for goldfish's proposed arranged marriage. floyd holds back the urge to growl every time the other guy looks at them the wrong way.

goldfish looks miserable, either way.

(floyd grabs his hand, at some point during the dinner. squeezes it, just slightly. goldfish looks over, and floyd flashes a smile, and maybe, just maybe, he feels goldfish relax.)

(maybe he imagined it, but he prefers to think it was real.)

floyd tries to focus on... well, not being jealous. for one, he and goldfish aren't together (playing pretend), for two, this fucker has less of a claim on goldfish than he does. and he's supposed to be dating goldfish for this whole week!

the man is dull in his conversation, and floyd tunes out most of it. mrs. rosehearts seems invested in it, and really, floyd's content to just hold goldfish's hand and pretend he's listening when-

"ah, medicines in the family! the strength of it really," she laughs out (it's the happiest she's seemed all week, and while goldfish isn't as tense, he's still tense; more importantly, when she says that, he's tenser, and floyd vaguely recalls azul mentioning that goldfish wants to be a lawyer, and-), "floyd, you never mentioned what your after-graduation plans were?"

he blinks. he hasn't actually thought about it.

"cooking, probably," he says without thinking, "a chef or something. maybe a baker."

there's an awkward silence. floyd can't help but think he's absolutely said something wrong.

"he's following me to the surface, obviously," goldfish says, hauty. it's just after a beat, too, like he'd been prepared (like he'd been thinking about it), "he's good at cooking, and he can't pursue it too well underwater."

floyd blinks again. he moves without thinking this time, swinging an arm around goldfish's shoulders, closer to his neck than he'd intended, "of course, can't get rid of me that easily, goldfish!"

he vaguely notes mrs. rosehearts paling out of the side of his eye.

"you're from undersea...?" says the guy mrs. rosehearts found so impressive. "you don't look like it."

"i take a potion," floyd says, cracking a smile (and he notes the shudder from his sharp teeth, and he feels it briefly get wider; oh, he's still hanging off riddle's shoulders-), "it nullifies most of my traits 'cause they're not useful for the surface."

"i didn't realize you were from the coral sea, either," mrs. rosehearts says, seemingly having composed herself to act like goldfish's outburst hadn't startled her, "you really don't act like it."

floyd blinks. goldfish tenses beneath him.

"you're probably thinking of the southern part of the coral sea," floyd's deliberate. he's trying not to deepen his voice into threatening territory too much but he pretty sure he's failed, "i'm from the north."

"...ah," she says, slow. "right, the north."

floyd knows how it's thought of. he tries to suppress the brimmer of annoyance in him, but inevitably goldfish feels him tense up, though, and

"he's really quite talented in the kitchen," goldfish says, conversationally, changing the subject, "helps run a restaurant at the school."

floyd notices the change in mrs. rosehearts demeanor instantly. his grip loosens around riddle's shoulders (he hadn't even noticed it tighten?), and she refocuses on goldfish.

"oh? and how would you know?"

"dormmates have eaten there," he's so weirdly... casual. subdued, too. floyd hates it. "floyd's made me some stuff too, occasionally."

(he isn't lying, but floyd gets the feeling he's trying to communicate something to his mother that he can't outright state with such company. her eyes are still sharp, but she quits staring so intently. floyd's arms drop, for the most part.)

she refocuses on their other guest, and this time floyd notices goldfish squeeze his hand. he flushes, just a slight bit.

if anyone notices, they don't comment.

later, in goldfish's room, floyd feels like apologizing.

"'lmost lost my cool at dinner," he whispers (mostly because it's hard, to rip that bandaid off), "sorry about making it so hos-"

goldfish places a finger in front of his mouth to shut him up. he's not glaring, but he's also not not glaring, and floyd's so not sure how to feel about this.

"not your fault," he's stealing floyd's words from last night, "and it was gonna be hostile either way. i'm sorry for not mentioning to her earlier that you were from the coral sea so we could've avoided all that."

floyd blinks.

"... not really your fault, either, then," he decides. "we're both sorry and it's neither of our faults."

riddle giggles at him. maybe it was his matter-of-fact tone. or that goldfish was still trying to shush him.

goldfish looks down at floyd from his bed, that night, and then,

"that sleeping bag constantly cannot be comfortable," he declares (and floyd knows, of course he knows, that goldfish is the red queen, but he so rarely sees it in such a composed action), "you're taking the bed tonight."

"in your house?" 

"i can survive a day on the floor."

floyd shakes his head. riddle's mouth is in the process of opening when floyd stands up and nearly launches himself (all 191 centimeters!) at goldfish.

"if you want me to sleep on the bed so badly, we're sharing," he says. it's petulant. again. "i'm not sleeping in my host's bed without him in it to squeeze."

riddle goes a bit red at that, then tries to worm his way out of floyd's grip, "no- i'm taking the floor."

floyd shakes his head more vigorously. 

"i'd just feel bad," he says suddenly, softer, "if i left you there."

goldfish's protests seem to die in his throat.

"...okay," it comes out slow. "but you have to let me go to the bathroom first."

floyd brightens.

it's the easiest sleep he's had in years.

on the fourth day, they kind of fuck up.

well, ok, mrs. rosehearts' had opened goldfish's door before either of them had woken up and absolutely exploded because somehow she'd gotten the idea of sex having been a thing that happened, and then somehow it came out that they had been faking, so now it's six am, they have two more days off of school (officially), the portal isn't open and no one can get a hold of crowley to open it so there's no way back, and they got kicked from the rosehearts' place.

(riddle isn't taking it too well; and, ok, yeah he'd been the one to accidentally let the fake dating slip, but floyd's not really mad. originally it had been just floyd who had been kicked out but riddle had kind of flocked after him and floyd's got an ice pack to his cheek anyway, and really he doesn't want to talk about it, and he guesses riddle doesn't really want to either because he's mostly just been freaking out on the phone-)

"okay, so," goldfish is talking to sea turtle, floyd's pretty sure. he's also pretty sure they can't make it back to the school in two days, and neither are keen to stick around much longer, "going through it again. plane to the mainland closer to the isle of sages. then it's the train into the city that's closer to that coastal region. a bus or a car depending on what we can get. ferry to the isle. i got all that right?"

it's around here that floyd gets a little impatient. he gestures to goldfish (a small part of him wants to just wrest it from his grip, a larger part doesn't want to shatter what peace they've made), and while goldfish's first response is to look at floyd weirdly, when he points more solidly the phone and makes grabby hands, he suddenly puts it together.

"floyd wants to talk to you, trey," goldfish says. he almost sounds resigned. floyd's given his phone.

"send me the information," floyd drawls out, just a bit (he's tired, some of the words slur together despite his best efforts to stay clear), "i'll pay for it."

"well, hello to you, too," sea turtle sounds bemused, if floyd had to put a word on it, "i don't have your info, though?"

floyd blanks on that for the best of days. he's sure as hell not remembering it at six in the fucking morning.

"ask jade for it," and he wordlessly passes back the phone to goldfish. he's still looking at floyd weirdly, like he's expecting it to be a lie.

goldfish and sea turtle finish their conversation, floyd gets a text from jade that he promptly deletes the notification for so he can forget to respond in peace, and then, of course, goldfish turns to him.

"aren't you from the north?" floyd blinks. he wasn't really expecting an interrogation on his economic state.

"leeches are a self made business model," floyd tries not to miss a beat but he knows he's sluggish and he can feel his words dragging on, "we got money to spare."

(what the "family business" is isn't relevant unless you're family, so floyd thinks riddle can satiate that curiosity one day, maybe, if he's so inclined to hope.)

(he doesn't like to let himself hope, that much, anyway.)

sea turtle makes good on his word and sends over the information. floyd locates the airport versus where they are and books a very late in the day flight, much to goldfish's dismay.

they don't talk much for the first couple of hours; the taxi ride is all but completely silent. but riddle's eyes keep darting to his cheek (floyd's given up on the ice, it's not cold enough nor keeping it's temperature for long enough, and he doesn't have the energy to really want to use magic on it), so floyd huffs lowly to himself.

"somethin' off?" he's probably coming off annoyed. it still comes out softer than he means.

goldfish blinks. he's such a fish out of water, floyd thinks, and then the jade in his mind makes fun of him for being so fond.

"sorry," he says, "for dragging you along with this. for the injury. if i knew we were gonna get kicked out i would've never made you come with me."

it's floyd's turn to blink like a fish out of water. he vaguely catalogues riddle's eyes forming tears, but he really hopes this isn't calling for anything particularly comforting (simply because he's bad at it; he'd move the stars for riddle's smile, and maybe he should consider thinking about that a bit more- but also, no, absolutely not, he's not raising his hopes more than their already catastrophically unrealistic heights have already reached).

"i woulda wanted to come anyway. be a dick move to make you deal with that alone."

riddle does that thing again that makes floyd hope a bit more. tucks himself into floyd's side. he's silent for a few minutes before,

"..i think we're owed a bit of a reintroduction," it's barely a whisper. you could hear a pin drop over the sound of his voice. "i misjudged you, floyd leech."

"...can i still call you goldfish?"

riddle nearly cackles.

"i take it back," he's crying and giggling at the same time, "i judged you perfectly."

they make it to the airport with over an hour to spare. magic items going through them takes a bit longer, and well, they both have their student ids and school-issued pens, but it's still a process.

there's something similar when going from the ocean to the surface. floyd absently talks about it on the tail end of the journey, which goldfish is fully enamored with, even if he's never going to need the information himself.

floyd buys both of them lunch, too, even if goldfish tries to protest.

"buy me a drink, later," floyd peppers a wink in there (he barely notices goldfish's slight blush after), and then he switches gears, fast as he had arrived, "i've never been in an airport. or on a plane."

"i have, once," goldfish follows along perfectly, slight pinkish still in his cheeks that floyd resolutely does not let himself focus on, "we went to visit my grandmother for an emergency, usually we'd take the train."

floyd's never not lived with a grandparent before. then again, azul doesn't have any living with him either, but he's basically a leech, so azul probably doesn't count.

he hums in acknowledgement anyway.

"i haven't seen her in a while," goldfish murmurs, like he doesn't want anyone to hear. "last time we went, there was an argument, and i haven't been back."

floyd desperately wants to ask for elaboration. he desperately wants to map out a collage that describes every inch of goldfish's life, lets him know every inch of him, lets him map out every single crack and chip and perfect angle.

he won't (he can't), though, but he wants. he so wants.

goldfish looks up at him, almost expectantly (and that takes him off guard) before,

"i hope you don't get motion sick," he says. "or air sick."

"have you seen me in gym?" his mouth breaks into a smirk without him even thinking about it, "i do tricks without thinking about it all the time."

riddle laughs at him.

the plane is an experience. floyd loves it.

goldfish and the pilot are of the joint opinion that the amount of turbulence felt on the plane is above average and therefore unlucky, but floyd's never been more in his element while actively being outside of his actual element.

it's like a thrill ride if a thrill ride was more likely to kill you.

regardless, they make it to the city safe, but it's late, so goldfish diligently looks up a hotel they can stay in for a night.

(the place they book only has single beds, but they've already done that song and dance.)

(floyd takes the momentary distraction that hits goldfish when the receptionist says it to pay for the room.)

when they're alone in the room, floyd distinctly feels goldfish staring at him.

"i just can't figure you out," he says. it's quiet.

"that's okay," floyd's voice is somehow even quieter. "i can't figure me out, either."

riddle stares for a while. then,

"tell me about your home?"

he talks about his family. his mom and dad, self made businessmen. his grandmother, zany and closer to his personality than anyone else. his cousin, the one who lives with them, sharp with her words and attitude. his brother. he talks about the ashengrottos. about azul's younger stepbrother. about the shark that hangs around him.

riddle falls asleep sometime after floyd's describing a particularly interesting family member.

he brushes one part of riddle's bangs back before realizing what he did and jumps back his hand like it's been burned.

(it hasn't.)

floyd takes a while to sleep that night.

when he wakes up the next morning, riddle is inexplicably sleeping on him. they're intertwined in a thoroughly unprecedented manner, especially since floyd isn't squeezing the life out of goldfish, but sort of feels like he should be.

he doesn't really get the chance to explore that thought further, because goldfish stirs a bit and floyd panic extracts himself from the whole thing.

if goldfish had noticed, they don't talk about it.

it's the fifth day now of their week, and really it should technically be their last day, because the portal is supposed to be open at the evening but they've already left the queendom.

the train isn't hard to find, but the journey isn't necessarily a short one. while they can do the bus and ferry trip in a day, the train won't get them to the city until late evening.

floyd entertains himself by dragging goldfish into spotting and guessing games. he thinks, vaguely, that it must be boring to goldfish, but that might be the fact that riddle goes along with his antics with a resignation that floyd's never seen before.

"are you alright?" he tilts his head to get a better angle of scrutiny towards riddle, who blinks as if taken aback.

"i'm fine," he says.

"tired," he adds on, when floyd looks less convinced.

floyd tries to relax himself a little bit into the seat. he wants to say something. wants to start a conversation.

"...they don't really capture the vastness of the coral sea, here," he starts, and riddle looks at him weirdly.

"i'm talking so you have background noise! it worked last night," it comes out petulant.

riddle laughs at him. it's light. teasing.

he puts his head on floyd's shoulder.

"okay," he says, "take me away, then."

getting off the train and finding a hotel is a lot more of an issue than it had been the night before. it's long past midnight by the time they find a suitable hotel with rooms open, and despite getting two beds this time, floyd finds himself pulled into one by goldfish, who refuses to let go of floyd's arm.

both of them are tired, so floyd doesn't put up much of a fight.

plus, they've been sleeping together so much, he thinks it'd almost be weirder without goldfish so close by.

(when he checks his phone, there's a new message from jade. "how's studying his natural habitat?" it says. floyd doesn't send a message back.)

(inexplicably, it feels like they've intertwined themselves into each other.)

they wake up late the next morning.

floyd can't breathe.

when he looks down, it's clear as to why.

he shakes at riddle, adrenaline going, but his vision is woozy at best.

"gold..fish," he slurs out, stilted, "...bathtub. wa..t-er."

and then he blacks out again.

when he comes back to, he's in the bathroom. riddle is slumped over the edge of the bathtub, floyd's hand in a tight grip.

one of his fingers is angled towards his pulse point.

floyd feels an immeasurable point of guilt. he knows he's at fault (it must've been last night, or the morning before; he'd forgotten to take the potion, and just hadn't noticed the way he usually would), knows if he had been more careful he would've noticed, would've taken it.

(it's a comment he's heard a lot. "if he had been more careful.")

"'m sorry," floyd whispers out. he sees riddle's head move, just a bit, but he chances it anyway, and presses a kiss into the top of riddle's head. "'m sorry for dragging you along with this."

it takes goldfish a few hours to properly wake up again. floyd's utterly bored, so he counts the tiles on the wall, and the floor, and the ceiling, and starts and stops, and starts and stops, over and again, counting the strands of goldfish's hair.

goldfish's grip tightens when he wakes up. he yells a bit at floyd, mostly for scaring him, which floyd argues he takes in stride (and, well, he kind of deserves it. it's not uncommon for floyd to forget, but it is uncommon to this extent), and then he kind of just latches onto floyd over the bathtub in a sort of hug and doesn't seem to be inclined to move.

"could you get me another one of my potions...?" floyd asks. he notes goldfish still and a mild flush.

uh oh.

"i uh," he coughs, "may have broken. a flask. while in a panic. or two flasks. how much of it did you have?"

floyd blinks. that was all he'd brought.

"...we're stuck here until we can find a good transformation potion," it comes out a little incredulous, though floyd does try to curve his tone.

he usually doesn't like to admit it, but they're equally at fault for this one, really.

"wh- you're serious?" goldfish asks. he's more incredulous than floyd is.

"i don't need them every day," he defends. "and i wasn't really expecting to need a backup. but, i mean, we're in a city, and worst comes to worse, we could find the ingredients somewhere. it's not too hard to make from scratch."

goldfish looks unconvinced.

"scout's honor," floyd tries.

"you've never been honorable in your life," he bites out (but, oh, there's a smile, isn't there?), "i'll go through azul, thank you very much."

floyd doesn't hear much of the conversation, but when goldfish gets back, he looks guilty. floyd thinks it's a little unjustified, but then,

"we're here at least another day," riddle says, "azul checked the area, and there's a shop we can put an order in for, but it's gonna take a day; well, ok, azul helped me place the order, so we're going to be here until it gets here-"

"that's alright," floyd interrupts, "i can wait a day."

he hesitates. just a bit. goldfish is staring, like he knows what's coming next, so floyd gives him a grin.

"if you agree to entertain me!"

inevitably, floyd gets the impression that riddle's been feeling horribly guilty about the whole thing. he's fliting in and out of the bathroom all day, listens to floyd's inane rambles, and hell, even let's him off when floyd splashes him a bit in a fit of boredom.

"...are you sure you're alright?" goldfish asks. it's been hours, he's been subdued for a lot of them; floyd's trying not to act too concerned, "i just-"

"it's fine, goldfish, promise," he says, "nothin' i haven't done before. if i was smarter, i'd have brought an extra, really."

goldfish stares at him a bit. he's been doing that a lot lately.

"you called me riddle earlier," he's trying to sound casual, floyd thinks, like he's not dropping a fucking bombshell, "you were mostly out of it, though."

"ah," floyd doesn't have a good response for that. distantly, he thinks, he's a fish out of his water.

"and i called jade, after," he says, and floyd instinctively puts his hand over riddle's mouth.

he already knows what jade would've said.

there's a spark, though at floyd's response, in goldfish's eyes that hasn't been there all day. his hand comes up to grasp floyd's wrist. 

he goes to pull floyd's hand off his mouth and floyd just... let's him. there's a smirk on his stupid pretty face.

"he didn't say anything helpful," goldfish specifies, "but i think i've got some things figured out."

floyd doesn't expect it when riddle leans in to press a kiss onto his forehead. really, he hadn't expected this whole conversation. he's so out of his depth.

"for earlier," is what goldfish says, and oh.

"you were awake!" he says without thinking. "you-!"

riddle's smirk takes away all thoughts he'd had. damn you.

"really, i thought you'd noticed," he says, casually. "i was worried. i barely slept. but i mean, you were really out of it, so i guess that makes se-"

and floyd's all for this gloating, honestly (it's hot, but mostly when it's not directed at him), so he's just so not in the mood, but if goldfish isn't playing fair than he shouldn't have to either, so he cuts goldfish off, surging his head up to kiss him.

"shut up," floyd says lowly, against riddle's mouth.

"o-oh," he gets in response, "okay."

they get very distracted for several hours, after that.

the seventh day, goldfish gets a call pretty early on. floyd's still asleep when he gets it, so goldfish relays it later, after he'd already picked up the emergency transformation potion.

the actual transformation itself can take a few hours, so this time floyd really finds himself with nothing to do, mostly because riddle is busy with preparations to continue their trip back.

(floyd does trap him for a little while, though, even if riddle complains about the water.)

goldfish makes the rest of the plans, too, gets bus tickets and ferry tickets while floyd is moping (he's really been good about that the whole trip), and when floyd finally feels enough like a human to get out of the bathtub, beyond his knee buckling just a bit, he's never been better!

riddle ends up dragging him out for lunch, and floyd just... can't help himself.

"finally buying me that drink?" he's leering, just a bit. leaned far too much into riddle's space, had this been any other moment.

goldfish's hand comes and pushes his head out of the way. there's mock annoyance on his face (and really, they're both more bark than bite now), "don't flatter yourself."

there's still a smirk on floyd's face.

riddle does buy lunch, and floyd leans down to press a kiss into his cheek before they leave.

"in return," he whispers. and oh, there's that goldfish color.

"you have no sense of shame," riddle says, hauty. he's more embarrassed than anything else, especially since it's him, not floyd, to intertwine their hands together.

the bus ride is quiet. no one else really stays on it the whole time, so riddle feels comfortable enough a third of the way through to fully insert himself into floyd's side. he's got the window seat, anyway, so floyd almost gets the impression he's being used as a shield.

(not that he's complaining. that's an awful lot of trust.)

(the azul in his head complains about the antiquated nature of chivalry, and floyd imagines him exploding instead.)

(the jade in his head just laughs at him.)

(he explodes that jade, too.)

"mmmm," goldfish says, pressed as he is into floyd (which cannot be that comfortable, floyd's boney on a good day, but he digresses, if riddle's happy he's happy-), "tell me about.... your parkour stuff."

riddle sounds tired.

floyd gets the sensation he's just using the story as background noise to sleep to.

(he finds it hard to be offended.)

riddle sleeps through the rest of the bus trip, anyway.

their ferry is exceptionally late. in fact, they get the last one of the day, a stroke of good luck. goldfish paces the ferry deck while they're on it, but he's quiet otherwise.

floyd figures he's got a lot of energy, considering that nap. regardless, it takes him maybe fifteen minutes after the ferry takes off before-

"what are we?" riddle says. he's stopped directly in front of floyd, twisting his hands together. nervous, floyd fills in.

"what do you want to be?" floyd asks. he's distracted by riddle's hands, grasping one in his own. he vaguely hears a hitch. like riddle hadn't expected it.

"...i don't know," he says. "exclusive, maybe."

floyd almost laughs.

(he'd feel bad.)

instead of that, he moves his hand down to his wrist, and presses a kiss into the palm of riddle's hand. when he looks up, riddle's face is red (like a goldfish, obviously).

"sure," floyd says. he's still next to riddle's hand. "whatever you want."

when they get back to the school, goldfish hasn't let go of floyd's hand. in fact, riddle's the one who's been squeezing his hand the closer they've been getting, something that floyd thinks is horribly ironic, and does say to riddle.

(only for goldfish to try and worm his hand out, embarrassed, but floyd will not have that; he thinks it's cute, really, how riddle flipped that script.)

they're late coming back, anyway, by two days, and floyd is fairly certain it's because of this lateness that riddle's so nervous.

"you'll be fine," he says, just loud enough for riddle to hear, "jus' blame it on me, goldfish. i'm a troublemaker enough."

riddle frowns at him.

"you behaved through the week, though," and floyd has half a mind to laugh, because, well, he did, but that doesn't make his reputation any better.

"still a troublemaker."

they walk back to the school, and it's quiet. peaceful.

(crowley doesn't bother chewing them out; apparently sea turtle and jade had stepped in with the story when goldfish had called sea turtle, so they avoid getting in trouble at all, really.)

on the eighth day, goldfish comes to seek him out at the mostro lounge. 

floyd hadn't gone to classes during the day, to be fair, mostly because he hadn't had any level of motivation to do so, so azul had forced him into the kitchen. his actual reasoning for it was, of course, "you haven't been here for a week and jade and i can't read your fucking handwriting, make your damn new recipes," so there floyd is, not reading his damn new recipes, and instead making newer ones.

hey, listen, he's technically not paid for this work.

anyway, goldfish comes to find him after class. floyd can hear jade failing at following goldfish, and he gets the sneaking suspicion it's because riddle is walking through the lounge like he owns the place, and doesn't that prompt a laugh.

but he turns just as riddle bursts into the kitchen, blinking when he sees floyd in there, surrounded by a truly horrifying amount of ingredients that he hasn't used yet.

"riddle, you can't just-" jade says, bursting in after him, and floyd does laugh then, mostly because he's never seen his brother so thoroughly out of sorts.

"what did you do?" he says to riddle, still giggling at jade's haphazard appearance.

"...ran here," riddle says. "where were you all day?"

"here," floyd says, "makin' foods. want some?"

there's a counter with stools on it, and floyd watches riddle move himself into one. neither one has looked away from the other.

(jade is still in the doorway.)

"i got you notes," riddle says, unprompted, "i know you don't really need them. but i got them."

floyd blinks.

(see, the thing is, goldfish places a high precedence on academic success; floyd has always known this. but goldfish and he are in different classes, meaning riddle had to go out of his way for this.)

"goldfish~," he coos, moving closer, "you're really something else, aren't you."

and it's really at that moment he hears jade flee, banging the door closed with the force of him running off.

"what'd you make...?" he asks, when floyd recovers from laughing at jade's departure. the notes are sitting on the counter in front of him.

"dinner stuff, can't remember the names," he's actively getting distracted as they're talking, going for riddle's hand, "how was school, goldfish?"

"had to catch up on some stuff," riddle blinks when floyd presses a kiss into the inner side of his wrist, "...must you be so distracting?"

"yes!" shaking up goldfish's whole world view is, of course, a hobby of his.

riddle sighs.

"fine. pass me some of your 'dinner stuff', then."