(dead end; or, the first thing I've written and completed in nine months. 1587 words)
Wakefulness arrived sullen and unseen, draped over Jimmy’s shoulders like too wet and heavy a coat, leaving him staring at the ceiling for some unknown amount of time before he even became aware that he was awake enough to be doing it. His senses came online one by one, each distilling new information that was somehow all the same: the low thrum of redstone power running through the base and whatever contraptions surrounded it, the tingling numbness of his nerves coming alive after hours without use, the wood grain of the ceiling blending together into one monotonous and dizzying sight—endless static from every direction.
The day began with the sort of feeling that doesn’t announce itself so much as arrives at the same time you do; it didn’t begin at one particular moment, not exist right up until it did, but rather simply was, imminent and indisputable—like a fact. Or like your shadow.
Dread was the friend you were embarrassed to be seen with when you ran into someone whose company you really enjoyed, the friend you knew you’d get asked about later and have no good excuses to offer up for their presence. The friend you gave too many chances and always lied through your teeth promising you’d let go. They were crass, they were rude, and they got into your head too easily and spun you around without pointing you in the direction you were meant to be going after. They never paid back the money they borrowed and always lost the things they asked if they could use. Which was to say it was an emotion Jimmy knew didn’t serve him but always too readily gave in to anyway, comfortable sinking because he was too scared to learn how to swim.
Dread festered like a rotten apple in Jimmy’s stomach, food poisoning churning his insides like spoiled cream into curdled butter, his guts preparing to toss everything vital overboard, empty their coffers, and abandon ship. It sat on his neck like too tight a collar, not quite choking him but providing just enough pressure that every swallow threatened return and every brush of fabric made him brace to expel. It hadn’t come on and it hadn’t given warning, Jimmy had woken up and it was there—and what was worse was he wasn’t surprised. He was barely upset. He just was and the dread was with him.
Jimmy had the strangest urge to go to the woods.
Something—someone—clung to him under the sole threadbare blanket their bed and their humble homestead could afford them. After Jimmy had been staring at the ceiling—coming to terms with the feeling of dread crowding him out of his own bed—for who knows how long, the person next to him sighed a sigh too wistful for the morning he was about to wake up into, and stretched like a cat—slowly, one extremity at a time—from sleep into consciousness. His face mashed into Jimmy’s bicep and his arm tugged softly at the squishy part of Jimmy’s side, and Jimmy, for all intents and purposes, kept on staring at the ceiling and settling into his discomfort—awake for longer but somehow still not in charge of his limbs and his being and his existence.
With a wet sound that said he’d been dead asleep just before, mouth unmoving for hours, Tango said, “Mornin’ early bird,” his voice somehow both rough and smooth at the same time. He rubbed his face more purposefully into Jimmy’s arm. “I like it when I wake up and you’re still here.”
“Do you have anything to do in the woods today?” It didn’t function at all as a response to what had come before it, and Jimmy hadn’t known it was going to come out of his mouth until it had already happened, leaving his brow to furrow and his mouth to tighten into a frown—the first movement he’d been able to perform since becoming aware that he’d been awake. Why hadn’t he gotten up to feed the chickens, the goats, the cows? Gone to the well to pump water for the day? Collected the eggs and started on breakfast?
Tango opened his mouth and closed it again—not in the way of being about to say something and changing his mind or finding his cue cards blank, but in the way of readjusting to wakefulness, or readjusting before falling under the spell of sleep once more. Anxiety pricked at Jimmy like a needle he kept missing the fabric with, stabbing into the meat of his own thumb more times than he could count, drops of blood staining the corners of the shirt he’d had to mend after one of their cows took a bite right out of it. Don’t fall back asleep. He said, “Tango,” too loud, too urgent, too fast.
Jimmy counted the seconds until he replied.
“Mmm, don’t think so.” Tango mumbled until it turned into a yawn.
Jimmy’s eyes were almost unbearably dry, still staring at the ceiling like he’d forgotten he was allowed to look anywhere else. It took him a moment to remember that he could blink, and then it took him another to remember how, and a comically long third to force his eyelids to shut and open again after.
“So you won’t be going in them, then?”
Still not awake enough to really be thinking about what Jimmy was saying any further than providing an answer, Tango offered, “‘spose not,” without understanding the gravity of the situation.
And the gravity was this: Jimmy woke up and dread woke up with him. He wasn’t anxious, he wasn’t upset, and he wasn’t angry. He had simply come to with a great and mounting sense of apprehension—not a fear but a surety that it was going to provide them nothing but grief—and a strange but unavoidably persistent feeling that he should be in the woods.
Jimmy swallowed before he spoke again. Threw a glance to the side and tightened the screw of his lips—unsure if he was trying not to cry or trying to convey that his next request was totally normal. “Promise?”
It was said in the sort of voice you said something when you wanted it to seem lighter than it was, giving away instead every kind of emotional weight you’d placed upon it in one terribly anxious bouquet. Tango’s arm unlatched from Jimmy’s side and slowly pulled all the way across Jimmy’s stomach, until he could flop over onto his back, the two of them lying side by side, overlapping only the slightest from where their arms had been buried beneath Tango a minute before. He sighed.
Jimmy closed his eyes, then opened them and blinked rapidly a few times. He took a deep breath and told himself he felt fine and it was all in his head until he was sure the contents of both his stomach and his tear ducts alike would stay where they belonged.
“Sure,” Tango placated. “Whatever you want.”
Dread was the mistake you pointed out that everyone ignored until it was too late. The place on the stair your foot landed that you knew was about to make you lose your balance and fall. The moment your health reached one heart and you dropped your shield just so that it would be over. It was thinking that something was wrong and only speaking up after the fact; knowing that something bad was going to happen and that you had to let it happen anyway.
The bed creaked and Tango sat up. He threw his arms over his head until one of his elbows made a noise that popped, and then sighed one final time and looked down at Jimmy, in the same position he’d been in when he woke up some minutes-to-hours ago. “Up and attem—woke up late, better start on those chores.”
He threw a leg over Jimmy with a small groan, and then did it again and ended with his second leg on the floor, but before he could stand and vacate Jimmy’s space, Jimmy made the very hard and very brave move of latching onto Tango’s arm with both of his hands. He didn’t tug, he just held on. Nearly every inch of Tango’s forearm was covered by Jimmy’s hand or Jimmy’s palm or Jimmy’s fingers.
Tango turned back to look at him, and for a moment, Jimmy thought he got it. Tango’s eyes looked from Jimmy’s too frantic to be casual grasp to his too peaked to be affectionate stare, and for just a beat, his brow furrowed and his eyes formed a question. And then by the next, it was gone. Tango huffed, Tango smiled, and Tango leaned over Jimmy to ruffle his hair with his unrestrained hand. “Come on, loverboy, gotta go feed the cows.”
He pulled out of Jimmy’s hands like they’d never been wrapped around him. Too casual, too unconcerned, and too easily. Jimmy watched Tango go, he counted to three, and he moved to get dressed only when he was sure he wouldn’t immediately puke upon the fresh clothes he was about to put on.
He shoved dread aside until it took up post somewhere out of the way but in the rearview mirror—where he could try and ignore it but would ultimately still feel it backseat drive. Jimmy grabbed the bucket of feed and went to go greet the cows for what hopefully wasn't the last time, and tried not to pay any mind to the trees, watching him from the window beside the bed.
Tango wakes up with his face buried in Jimmy's chest, strong arms wrapped around him in an embrace. Nearby, the faint sounds of cattle and clucking reach his ears, and he shifts.
Jimmy's arms tighten around him, his face in Tango's hair as he whines in protest. "Stay."
Tango huffs fondly, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. "Aren't you normally awake at this time?" He asks, voice rough from sleep.
With his face buried in Tango's hair, he can feel more than hear his next words, " 'm comfy," He mumbles. Tango chuckles, tilting his head up to look at him.
"Hi," Tango smiles, admiring the way he looks in the morning light. "Fancy seeing you here."
Jimmy meets his gaze, looking down at him, his mouth quirking up. "Hi, love." He whispers, words only meant for him. They're said with a warmth like sunlight on a peaceful morning, and Tango basks in it, eyes fluttering shut when Jimmy presses a kiss on his forehead.
Tango's long tail moves lazily behind him, not unlike a cat's. "We should get up." He says when Jimmy pulls away. His eyes now trail the lines of Jimmy's throat, dipping all the way down to his exposed collarbone.
What's the harm in admiring the view?
Above him, Jimmy hums in agreement. "We should."
Neither of them make a move to get up.
Mornings are always a treat, Tango thinks as the warm light catches in Jimmy's hair, turning blonde strands golden. Still in Jimmy's embrace, he can't help but feel boneless as they bask in the tranquil glow of the morning, taking comfort in each other's company.
After some time, Tango hears Jimmy sigh, annoyed. "Hm?" He tilts his head in question, eyes flicking up at him.
"My wings itch." Jimmy pouts. "Needs preening."
Tango smiles, "Let's get up, then. I'll help." He murmurs, nosing at Jimmy's jaw. It takes a few moments, but finally Jimmy shifts to get up, arms pulling away from their embrace.
Tango valiantly doesn't whine at the loss.
He follows, sitting up and stretching his arms as Jimmy yawns, golden wings spread slightly at his back. Tango makes his way behind him, scooting over until he's close enough to preen his wings.
"Is it your turn to feed the cows, or mine?" Tango asks, straightening a few feathers. Jimmy makes a pleased sound, "Mine, I'm pretty sure." He replies, and they lapse back into easy silence.
It takes time, but eventually Jimmy's wings are all tidied up, loose feathers removed. Tango examines his work, pleased with himself. "All good?"
Jimmy hums happily, looking at Tango with open gratitude. "Yeah, thanks."
With a smile, Tango presses a light kiss on Jimmy's back, at the space between his shoulder blades. Jimmy shivers, "Tango," He groans, drawing out the o.
In reply, Tango kisses at the base of his wings, making Jimmy gasp. "You said we'd get up!" Jimmy squirms, but doesn't pull away.
Tango smirks, moving forward to kiss Jimmy's shoulder. "We're up," He drawls, right next to Jimmy's ear. Like this, he can see the faint dusting of pink on his cheeks, the way he's biting at the corner of his lip.
Jimmy glares at him. Tango laughs.
"Alright, alright!" He says, finally moving to get up from the bed. Tango opens a chest, tossing a shirt at Jimmy, who just barely catches it. "Up you go." He grins, watching as Jimmy's muscles flex and move while he puts on the shirt.
(It's one of Tango's, just a little bit too small.)
Jimmy gives him a knowing look, and Tango just smiles, feigning innocence.
He picks up his tools from the chest, eyeing the healthy crops outside with satisfaction. Just as his hand lands on the doorknob, Jimmy speaks up. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
Tango turns, and- Oh-
Jimmy's kissing him, soft lips on his with a hand cupping his face. He pulls away, looking down at him with such a loving expression that something inside Tango melts, Netherborn blood be damned.
"There you go," Jimmy says, tongue darting out to wet his lips. Tango's eyes zero in on the movement, and Jimmy laughs, gently pushing him away. "The wheat isn't gonna harvest itself, Tango."
"Yeah," Tango replies faintly. He shakes his head, clearing it. "Yeah." He repeats, more firm this time.
Jimmy looks smug. Tango chooses to ignore this.
He opens the door, stepping out. "I'll see you later, yeah?"
"Take care!" Jimmy calls out.
Tango closes the door behind him, a pleasant feeling following him the whole day. If the others notice the skip in his step, well, they don't say a thing.
The world keeps turning. The sun rises and sets, the stars shine in the sky.
The worst endings, Tango thinks, are the clumsy ones.
They'd been apart, when they died.
It'd been abrupt, like the snap of fingers. Like the severing of string.
For a few precious seconds, Tango had looked around, eyes wide. Instinctually, he searches for warm, brown eyes.
He bleeds on the steps of somebody else's home, and thinks, no.
This can't be it.
And all too quickly, nothing.
Tango doesn't recall closing his eyes, but he wakes up.
He's sitting on the grass, and the sun is out, bright as the wind tussles his hair. In the distance, there's a figure.
His heart leaps in his throat, "Jimmy?"
Jimmy turns to him, eyes filled with mirth. He smiles like clouds parting for the rising sun, and it's so familiar and breathtaking that Tango stops, just a hair's breadth away.
Jimmy tilts his head, his dimple more prominent with his smile. It turns sad, and he comes forward, closing the distance between them. He cups Tango's cheek, wiping a tear away with his thumb.
Tango hadn't realized he was crying, but now he can't stop.
"Jimmy- What, how..." He hiccups. "I wasn't- I'm sorry-" Is all he can say, before strong arms envelop his frame, and Tango shivers, aching with how much he had needed this.
"It's okay, Tango." Jimmy tells him. Tango's tucked his face on the space between Jimmy's neck and shoulder, breathing in deep.
He smells the faint scent of wheat, lingering on him from their time on the ranch. There's a hint of wood and spice, and a smell so distinctly Jimmy that Tango can't help but hold him tight.
"It's not the end," Jimmy says, and he suddenly sounds far away. "As long as we keep going, there isn't an end."
Tango holds him like a man starved, crying out when he feels Jimmy start to slip through his grasp. "I don't want to let go." He pleads. "I want to go home."
Tango feels a hand in his hair, and he looks up.
Jimmy pushes his hair back, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. When he talks, Tango can feel the words on his skin.
"Home is wherever we go," Jimmy squeezes him tight, and only now does Tango realize that he's trying not to cry. "I'll find you." Jimmy says, voice firm in a promise.
Jimmy sniffs, eyes wet with tears. They hold each other tight, both afraid to let go.
"I'll find you," Jimmy repeats, throat going tight. "In every single life."
Tango makes a helpless, broken noise. "We'll build another ranch," He sobs. "We'll build as many as we want."
Tango knows a thing or two about rebuilding, about rising from the ashes. He knows, like he knows himself, that Jimmy does too.
"That was genius, Tango!" Jimmy cheers the moment they're alone. "Absolutely genius!"
The grin Tango gives is positively blinding, shining like the sun as he thrums with excess energy, still riding on the adrenaline of previous events.
"It kinda backfired at the start, but I'd say it was totally worth the effort, right?" He gestures excitedly with his hands, beaming as Jimmy leads him back inside the house.
Their house.
"Definitely. Did you see them panic?" Jimmy laughs, kicking his shoes off when they're inside. "I still can't believe you've managed that," He says. "I mean, an entire Warden! Up here!"
Tango laughs where he's leaned against the wall, taking his shoes off. "Well, down at the ravine, now." He jokes, a glint in his eyes as he smiles, pleased with his own joke.
Jimmy giggles, and oh if that doesn't make Tango's heart blaze like a wildfire, spurring him on. It does absolutely nothing to quell the energy in his veins, if anything, seeing Jimmy's laugh, seeing him happy has just made it a lot worse.
"Say, did you feed the cows today?" Tango asks, looking for something to do. From where he's been sifting through the chest, Jimmy looks at him, confused.
"Yeah? I fed them between fixing the house and building the wall." He shuts the chest, having found what he needed. "Why?"
Tango shakes his head. "Nothing. Just extra energy, y'know?"
Jimmy's expression grows fond, and he beckons him closer. "C'mere, we've gotta go to bed. It's late." He says, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"We don't have a clock." Tango teases, just because he can. Jimmy pulls a face. "Alright, alright, I'm coming." He concedes, following him.
Tango shuts off the torchlight along the way, letting the faint light of the moon take its place as they get themselves comfortable on the bed.
They end up in their usual arrangement, Jimmy as the big spoon with his arms around Tango, his head resting on Tango's blonde curls. They've both got their backs turned to the wall, in silent agreement to let them see anyone who decides to drop in during the night.
"G'night, Tango." Jimmy yawns, his warmth all around him.
"Night, Jimmy." Tango replies quietly, closing his eyes to sleep.
Or, he tries to.
Tango can't help it, he keeps tossing and turning during the night, going back and forth in between Jimmy's arms as he tries and fails to fall asleep.
It was bad enough that he'd had to slip out of Jimmy's embrace, worried that he'll wake up the other man. Jimmy, fully asleep and dead to the world, does nothing but roll over to face the other side.
He resists the urge to groan as he looks up at the ceiling, still not even a little bit sleepy.
Tango rearranges his pillow again, for probably the fifth time that night.
"Dude, are you gonna sleep or what?"
Tango startles, freezing in place. "I- You're awake?"
Jimmy turns to him, cracking one eye open. "Could barely sleep with you rolling around over there, really." He says, voice rough.
Tango winces. "Sorry."
Jimmy shakes his head, "Don't be," He puts a hand on Tango's arm, pulling lightly. "Lay down."
Tango does as he's told, facing Jimmy on the bed. "I didn't mean to wake you... I just can't sleep." He whispers. Jimmy puts an arm around him, inching closer.
" 's alright..." He mumbles, eyes fluttering shut. "Don't mind..."
Jimmy's hand around him starts absently running through his hair, brushing through the soft strands and soothing his scalp. Slowly, Tango starts to relax.
Oh, he thinks. This is nice.
After some time, he hears Jimmy say something. He opens his eyes, (when had he closed them?) "Hmm?"
"Are you purring?" Jimmy asks in a low voice, his hand still in Tango's hair. Half-asleep now, he can't even find it in him to be embarrassed. He nods.
Above him, Jimmy hums, and that's that.
(Privately, he files this information away for later. Who knew Tango had an off switch?)
When the hand in his hair starts to slow, Tango doesn't even notice, sleeping soundly. Jimmy smiles down at him, heart full of love as he presses a kiss on Tango's forehead.
It's been a long day, Jimmy thinks idly, watching the sun set over the ranch. His legs feel heavier than usual underneath him, and he wipes a bead of sweat off his face with an arm.
The sky is painted in streaks of color, the warmth bleeding into the cool shades of the night. A tiny smattering of stars are visible if he looks close enough, twinkling as if welcoming him back home.
Exhausted as he is, Jimmy can't help it, he smiles.
"This is where we part ways, then." He says to his companions, who snort.
"You say that like we'll never see each other again," Grian smirks. "You can't get rid of me that easily, you know."
"Us, I think you mean." Joel interjects, nudging the other with his elbow. "Kind of a dramatic goodbye, isn't it?" He laughs.
Jimmy rolls his eyes, "Get out of my ranch," He tells them, but it's too fond to have any heat to it. "Thanks for looking out for me."
Grian shakes his head, "Don't mention it. With the Warden around, you can't be too careful."
"Can't have you becoming a red life because of it," Joel snickers. "I think Tango might actually explode."
Jimmy beams, as he always does when Tango is mentioned. "Speaking of Tango!" He chirps, bringing out his horn.
Joel recognizes it instantly, "You gave it back to him!?" He nearly shrieks.
Grian winces, then shrugs. "I wanted to be unbanned!"
"You could've just broken the sign-"
Ignoring the two, Jimmy blows into his horn, letting the familiar sound wash over the Ranch, a message.
"I'm home!" It says, "I'm back to you!"
Jimmy puts the horn away, pleased. "So are you guys just gonna argue there all night, or-" Is all he manages to say, before he's knocked straight off his feet, tackled from the side by an unseen force. His wings flap in panic, not enough for him to fly, but enough to cushion his fall.
Jimmy lets out a startled noise, something caught between a yelp and an actual shout. He twists to see what got him, eyes focusing, and-
He wasn't expecting a lapful of Tango.
The man is bright as the sun when he sees him, eyes alight like rubies caught in the warmth of a fire. There's a blush high on his cheeks, pink from exertion. He's breathing a little heavily, as though he'd just run a marathon to see Jimmy, which in turn makes his heart do a series of complicated gymnastics.
"Sorry!" Tango says, snapping him back to the present. There's a breathy finish to the word, Tango looking at him in wonder like he can't believe he's there. He looks about as sorry as a... As a not-sorry thing.
Did he mention Tango's on his lap?
"I think that's our cue to leave!" Joel announces loudly, steering Grian away. Jimmy swears his face is about to melt.
Tango pays them no mind, instead reaching forward to cup the side of Jimmy's face, looking like he'd just won the lottery. "You're back." He says, voice dripping with the kind of reverence reserved for deities and treasure.
Jimmy feels like the wind has been knocked out of him, heart constricting in a squeeze from being on the receiving end of such love.
It makes him feel giddy inside, his insides turning into warm honey as Tango smiles at him, open and tender all because he'd returned home.
"I'm back," Jimmy repeats, kissing the palm of Tango's hand in the hopes of expressing the way all of this is making him feel.
The way Tango makes him feel.
Without warning Tango is surging in for a kiss, passion like a wildfire as he kisses Jimmy within an inch of his life. Jimmy holds him close, kissing him back to the best of his ability as Tango holds him like he's something precious, holds him like he'll never let go again.
Red eyes meet brown when they pull away, catching their breath. Jimmy brushes some hair away from Tango's face, breath hitching when it causes his eyes to flutter shut, leaning into the touch.
"Missed me that much, huh?" Jimmy says quietly, in awe. Tango smiles, looking a little shy now. It's adorable.
"You were out the whole day," Tango protests weakly. "I didn't get to see you at all."
The admission takes the ground under his feet, making him feel weightless and almost disoriented as he comes to terms with the fact of how much he's wanted, by Tango.
Jimmy almost starts laughing, elated by the thought. He's wanted just as much, and isn't that something?
He guides Tango's head forward, pressing a kiss on his forehead in lieu of a reply. Tango sighs under his touch, and Jimmy decides right then and there that there's nothing he wouldn't do for the man on his lap, who's tail is waving sluggishly in contentment behind him, looking for all the world like there's nowhere else he'd rather be.
"We should head inside," Jimmy murmurs into his skin. "It's getting dark out."
Despite having said that, he almost protests at the loss of contact between them as they stand, dusting themselves off and entering the ranch.
"I'll throw you to the Warden if there's grass stains on my pants." Jimmy grumbles as they lock the gate behind them.
Tango laughs, and it's his favorite sound.
Maybe we won't win, Jimmy thinks as Tango leads them inside their home. It's achingly familiar, a routine practiced a dozen times before.
In a few moments he's got Tango in his arms again, slotting perfectly in place. They hold each other, and nothing else matters.
Maybe they won't win, but at least he'll have this.
