[id: taako, an elf with dyed pink hair that is growing out, in a bathtub filled with dyed blue water and bubbles. The bubbles cover most of him. His expression is sour.]
Read on ao3 if you prefer!
Why don’t you take a bath and maybe you’ll feel better, Lup had texted him, and Taako knew, logically, that she meant it with all the goodness and care for him in her big dumb heart, but Taako was in a nightmare mood, so he read it dripping, just oozing with bitchiness, and maybe he was going to take a bath, but he wasn’t about to enjoy it.
Spite bath. For mean stupid assholes who can’t have what they want because they don’t deserve it and throw big idiot baby tantrums because their feelings got hurt that somebody posted date pics online with his hot new perfect dentist boyfriend who makes lots of money and can regulate his own fucking emotions and maybe even can keep a cactus alive for more than a month. Allegedly.
Taako sinks deeper into the water. It’s a pretty shade of blue, but other than that, his bath bomb was a total waste of money, and he’s mad about it, and doesn’t smell like anything, and the bubble bath he had left wasn’t enough to foam up the whole bath, and he needs to redye his hair, and he forgot to bring a snack, because he plans to fully dissolve until he’s Taako soup, and he’s mad about it. He’s lonely and snackless and broke and his cactus is dead and his sister is miles and miles away and his heart hurts. But now he’s also soaking wet. So, thanks for that, Lup.
He swipes the plastic bag he put his phone in off of the toilet lid and unlocks it, you know, after 4 failed tries, and, fuck him mighty, the picture is still there. They’re smiling and holding hands at an early dinner, and the post mentions in that elegant way he talks for an audience that they’re going to a show, a concerto in the butterfly gardens, and Taako nearly throws his phone. He’s not that fancy. He doesn’t even know how much a concerto in the butterfly gardens would cost. Maybe he could afford a commercial jingle in a compost pile. Worms can probably jam.
He tips his head back and groans. Don’t wait up for me, Kravitz had said. I don’t know how late I’ll be back, and you don’t have to worry about me. You know, casual things roommates say to each other? It’s getting on…late, or something, and yeah, maybe Taako was hoping to hear from him, you know, make sure David wasn’t like, a vampire and sucked his soul out or something (fuck, he really can’t compete with a vampire). Maybe hear about how great it was, because at this point, Taako almost wants to feel worse. Bring on the self-sabotage. He’s gonna make all sorts of choices.
He opens a new text and starts typing the truth, but it’s so embarrassing he has to delete it. He tries again, a little more casually, hey, so, Krav, I’m kinda maybe a little bit– deleted. Super sorry to bother you on your perfect date with perfect David but I wanna be yours so bad I can taste–deleted. Do you want to dump your boyfriend and get with me instead? No worries if not! Fucking hell. He trails his hand in the water, scooping up fast-dissolving bubbles. He shakes them off, and some of them fly all the way to the bathroom counter. Oops.
I like you, he types, and that feels a little less horribly pathetic, but the whole thing was an exercise in misery anyway, and he goes to delete that, too, but his hand is slippery, and he drops the bag his phone is in, and fumbles for it, and it goes right into the water.
“Fuck, fuck!” He scoops it out and shakes it off, but the screen is nearly impossible to read through the waterlogged bag. He dries a hand on the fluffy bath mat and fishes the stupid thing out.
Delivered.
Read.
Taako does throw his phone, hot potato, and it goes all the way across the bathroom. He covers his face. He yells into his hands. He hears his phone vibrate from the floor, once, twice, a third time. Kravitz almost never multi-texts, that’s more Taako’s bag, and he’s trying not to hyperventilate all naked and wet and stupid.
What can he do?? What is there to do??? He doesn’t want to say it was a joke. That would be cruel, a step too far. He might have been feeling self destructive, but he doesn’t need to make Kravitz miserable.
He pushes himself up, and the phone vibrates again, and he pulls the plug in the bathtub and wraps himself in a towel, relieved he showered first, for once. Blue water slogs out of the tub, gurgling in a way that almost sounds like he’s being chastised, and Taako dries himself off, rubbing at his face like maybe it’ll come off if he tries hard enough. This is, unfortunately, unsuccessful.
He takes a deep breath, and he picks up the phone.
Taako, what?
How do you mean that? Taako? Where did this come from?
Do you really? I’d like to talk to you, if you have a chance, I know it’s late, things went long, there was a problem…I mean, I don’t need to exhaust you with the details but, I guess I don’t know what’s going to happen next. Things didn’t turn out the way I planned.
Taako, are you there? Can you call me?
Oh, um, actually, you see, the problem is that Taako would rather succumb to a poison lava death than do that, sorry. His pruney fingers itch with anxiety. The phone starts vibrating with a call, and Taako nearly chucks the phone away again, and this time, he might not get it back.
Something automatic, something unreal, something new, swipes to answer the call, and shakily puts the phone to his ear. Normally he would run, he would ruin things, he would fuck everything up. But he doesn’t want to make Kravitz sad.
He doesn’t say anything, though. His tongue is in knots, and he’s about to swallow it.
“Taako, are you there?” He sounds a little choked up for some reason. “I- Can- can you tell me what you meant? It’s- it’s kind of important…Do you…do you really like me? Like, that, I mean, do you- I mean, you probably wouldn’t have said, I mean, I know you think I’m an okay roommate, and, and all that, but–surely you meant–what did you mean??”
“Um,” Taako says, voice cracking. He’s still holding the towel, hair still dripping down his back. “Uh, hey, Krav.”
“Taako,” Kravitz says, strained. “I- I just got in a fight with David about this, and- and I can’t-”
“Fuck,” there’s something hard in his throat that won’t go away. “I didn’t mean to- It was an accident, I- I don’t wanna ruin-”
“It was an accident?” The disappointment is palpable through the phone. He could palp it right there, physics be damned.
“No!! No- I- It’s true, I just- I didn’t mean to send it, I-”
“It’s true? You like me?” It’s way too eager to mean nothing. Now Taako’s heart is palping. It’s palping hard.
“I- Fucking of course I like you!” The dam breaks. Taako’s glad he doesn’t have to look Kravitz in the eyes. “I’ve liked you for months, okay? I just don’t want to fuck things up wi-”
“Fuck David,” Kravitz says, desperately fast. “He got nasty about the way I picked up the phone when I saw you text. He- he accused me of being in love with you.”
“Yeah? Have, um, have those allegations been proven?”
“The evidence is piling up,” Kravitz admits, and then he laughs, and that breaks the spell, and Taako has to laugh too, even though he may or may not be a little teary-eyed. “I think I just broke up with my boyfriend, Taako,” he whispers.
“What if I told you I know where you can get a new one?”
“I think I’d really like that. It’s been on my mind for a long time.”
