Why are you not holding my hand?
✦Gn!Reader
✦Characters: Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Floyd Leech, Kalim Al-Asim, Silver
✦You two are walking back from shopping and you ask “Why are you not holding my hand?”
Deuce Spade
Deuce freezes mid step like he just got caught breaking a very important rule. He looks at you. Looks down at the 4 shopping bags in his hands then looks back at you. His face instantly crumples into the most heartbreaking guilty puppy expression. He looks like he personally failed you.
“I can’t right now…” he mumbles, ears turning red. “My hands are full and I don’t wanna drop anything… I’m really sorry…”
You keep pouting for dramatic effect. Deuce panics. He starts shifting his weight from foot to foot like he’s trying to solve an impossible equation. “But… um… you can hold my arm instead! Like this!”
He angles his elbow out toward you. It’s the most earnest, awkward, offer in the world. You finally crack and laugh, looping your arm through his properly and squeeze it. “It was a joke, dummy. You’re cute when you feel guilty.”
Deuce lets out a huge, relieved breath. His whole body relaxes. “Jeez… don’t scare me like that! I thought I was being a bad boyfriend for a second…”
He still keeps his arm angled so you can stay linked the whole way home. And every few steps he glances over to make sure you’re smiling.
Jack Howl
Jack doesn’t even pause walking. He just glances down at his very full hands then at you. “I can’t.” he says simply. “Hands are occupied.”
You stop walking. Cross your arms. Raise an eyebrow. “If you don’t wanna hold my hand, you could just say so.”
Jack stops dead. Tail goes stiff. He turns to face you fully, brows furrowed like you just accused him of something serious. “That’s not…” He exhales through his nose. “That’s not what I meant.”
Then without another word he grabs four bags in one hand, freeing the other completely. The newly free hand immediately reaches for yours, fingers lacing tight. “There!” he grunts, cheeks pink. “Happy now?”
You grin. He huffs, but doesn’t let go even when the bags start cutting into his other palm. He carries everything one handed the rest of the way. Refuses to let you help.
Floyd Leech
Floyd is swinging the grocery bags like they’re toys humming some tune when you ask. He stops swinging. Tilts his head.
“Ehhh~? My hands are full, Shrimpyyy~” He lifts both arms and shakes the bags.
You cross your arms. “That’s not an excuse.”
Floyd blinks once. Then his grin stretches impossibly wider and delighted, like you just gave him permission to cause chaos. Without hesitation he drops one entire bag straight down onto the sidewalk.
Crack.
You both hear the eggs give up on life. Floyd doesn’t even look at the bag. He just reaches out, taking your hand in his now free one, and swings your joined hands like nothing happened.
“Happy now~?” he asks, kicking the ruined bag lightly out of his way.
“Floyd! The eggs!”
He shrugs, completely unbothered. “You’re the one who said it wasn’t an excuse~ So I made an excuse go away. Problem solved.”
You scold him the whole way home. He just laughs, squeezes your hand tighter, and keeps swinging your arms.
The broken eggs become his new favorite inside joke. Every time you buy eggs after that he dramatically pretends to drop the carton.
Kalim Al-Asim
He stops. Looks at the bags. Looks at his hands. Looks at you. Then his face lights up like he just solved the greatest puzzle ever. “Oh! Wait wait wait! I’ve got it!”
He very carefully adjusts the bags so they’re still secure… then stretches his pinky finger out toward you as far as it’ll go.
“Here! Hold my pinky!” He beams, eyes sparkling. “It’s almost like hand holding! See? We’re still connected!”
You stare at the single pinky. Then at his bright, earnest smile. You can’t help it, you burst out laughing and hook your pinky around his.
“This is so cute! We should do this all the time!” He swings your linked pinkies the rest of the way home like it’s the most romantic thing in the world (and it is). Every few steps he giggles and says “Im a genius!”
Silver
Silver blinks at you slowly, head tilted, clearly processing the question like it came from another language.
“…I can’t right now.” he says, calm and honest. He lifts both hands slightly, the shopping bags rustling. “My hands are full.”
You give him your best sad puppy eyes. “But… I feel more comfortable and safe when I’m holding your hand…”
Silver freezes. His eyes widen and a flicker of panic crossing his usually serene face. He looks at the bags again. Thinking very seriously for three full seconds. Then without a word he simply holds one of the lighter bags out toward you.
“Here.” he says softly. “You carry this one. Then we can hold hands.”
You take the bag (it was just some bread in that bag, easy). Silver immediately slides his now free hand into yours, fingers lacing gently but firmly.
“Better?” he asks, voice quiet, a tiny flush on his cheeks.
You nod, squeezing his hand. He gives the smallest, softest smile, like he’s relieved he solved the crisis. He keeps your hand in his the entire walk home. Every so often he glances over to check that you still look happy and safe.
When you two get back he insists on carrying everything else inside himself.
..............................................................................................................................
