A ReGect Au wherein Regect leaves Ze's laptop after he doesn't log in for days (he drags moe out as well) out of pure worry because they've already dealt with Ze being missing.
So when the two enter reality, they both get a full flashbang of florescent lights, a heartbeat monitor beeping in the background, and the sound of a ventilator. It was dark out, curtains drawn, and the quiet bustle of hospital workers moving outside the room.
Moe and Regect simply just stare at the body lying in the hospital bed.
Ze looked dead.
Machines were attached to him to keep him alive at this point.
Moe stood there on the foot of the bed, hands clenched on her sides as she gazed upon the charred skin that adorned the pale skin of her friend. It nearly took over half of his face. Burnt in fire.
Regect couldn't breathe, not that he needed to in the first place, but his chest felt like it was constricting as fear gnawed inside him. He felt like he was stuck in the past, but this time, it was another person he cared for.
Cam was the epitome of what was used in the kitchen—plastics, wastes, and card boards. They were unwanted.
Yet, Mc wanted him. They wanted to get closer to Cam, to know him more underneath those plastic wraps.
Ft. Cameron "Trash Cam" & Aroace spec! PLAYER
Part 1
Cam sits and stares as the shoebox of heaven sits in front of him. It held items he loved, cherished. Old dated bottle caps that haven't been manufactured in years, coins that were getting moldy, can tabs he can use as an accessory, and that damn necklace.
Just staring at it made his chest hurt.
He didn't know what to think, what to do about all this. He's been sitting in his trash cave for hours now, pondering to himself all while staring at the new haul. Cam couldn't fathom Mc giving him stuff because they wanted to. Most were just things you needed to throw out from their home or letting Lady Memoria feel lighter. In this case, Artt gets a lot more from it. The Human was a sentimental person, not wanting to fully throw their old stuff away.
It's also how Cam found out they were a huge gift giver. He has seen them give things to the other objects in the house. No matter how old or new the gift was, they gave it out without asking for something in exchange. Like it was as easy as breathing for them.
It wasn't that the Human was a bad person. They really weren't. It was just that it was off-putting to him.
He was used to certain looks, words, and even distance from others. He couldn't blame them. He was trash, the personification of a trash can that holds all unwanted things. Those were the things he expected the most, and yet they didn't look at him in any of those way.
They looked at him like he was something they wanted.
They went out of their way to give him a present— no, presents. They never did that to others before, so why him? Why was he the one to get way more in one sitting?
Cam knows his worth—knows that people won't like him as well as few people who do. He was fine with it. He didn't have problems with what people thought of him. While yes words sting, but who were they to talk? They weren't him. He was himself, and he's damn proud of it.
He likes being alone, but that doesn't mean he doesn't get lonely.
He can count on one hand how many people he considered as friends and two for the people he tolerated at best. There were only a couple of people that he generally talked to. Only recently, that list had added one more.
Kindness wasn't easy to the trash can. Being thrown away or put to the side was more familiar.
Cam sighed to himself and leaned back on his makeshift bed made of trash. This was starting to give him a headache. He hated thinking. He much preferred to lay down and chill, but no, the human decided to give unwanted thoughts.
He didn't know what to make of this. He knew that was happy about the gift. It was the kindest and most generous thing someone had done to him in a long time. It made his walls falter. Cam knew he was going soft or loosening up for the human these past months of talking with them. They were so unapologetically them. Sometimes, he even envied the way the objects tend to drift towards them easily. But, no, he couldn't say that. Most of the objects were elated since the beginning of Mc, being able to finally talk to them.
God knows the house has been happier ever since then. Problems have been solved, and the human was less lonely and depressed. Cam had watched and listened to how Mc made their way around the house, helping everyone.
Cam rolled over on his bed, stuffing his face into an old pillow, trying to drown everything out. Even when he tries to think about something else, the Human would instantly be in his mind. He's starting to get annoyed by it.
He forced himself to calm down, taking deep breaths and repeating a mantra to himself. He counted the plastic bags he had, the wrappers that were piled up in one corner, then to the water bottles that were designed to be on top of each other in a pyramid form, and then the pieces of paper he had folded the other day.
There were 5 new plastic bags, water bottles were used recently, and the junk food wrappers were actually lesser than usual. The thrown out papers held notes and writings that filled the entire paper now instead of drafts.
The human was certainly changing recently, and–
"FUCK"
Cam slammed a hand down roughly, crating a domino effect in his living quarters. The trash underneath him crumpled and scattered out from the impact. His bottom lip jutted out in annoyance as he started at the hole he had made on his bed.
This was getting ridiculous. Cam needed to fix himself. He was creating a mess, becoming a mess. More than usual.
He couldn't understand why he was feeling like this. Why his heart chose to skip a beat before thumping in a familiar rhythm he once held. The sweet buzz that roamed underneath his skin, effectively making his inside churn and flip around like he was a part of the Hanks adventures.
The brunette felt thoughts and feelings mixing all together, a potent mixture that swirled and fluctuated until it created a storm.
Cam knew what a storm could be like. Destructive, loud, and harsh. Pushing and pulling everything in its wake. He has sailed through that once before, clinging onto his boat only to have been spat out like that trash he was.
He won't—doesn't—let himself get caught in that again. Cam was fine on his own. He didn't need anything else but his trash. He needs the waves to be calm and low so he can live his life peacefully. He has anchored his boat already.
There was an unhelpful part of him that whispered words he desperately pushed away. Reciprocation. That thought alone made things even more harder on him. Cam did his best to pluck the seed out before it started growing even more.
Cam knew the Human was kind to everyone, they had many options to pick from the crowd. He heard that they were being buddy-buddy with the cat clock on the wall, their blanket, the electric couple upstairs, the trophy, and, heck, even the glitch that stayed in their bedroom.
Even then, he knew that those objects were at least a bit more worthy of their love. They all stood out form every weird thing in the house, and he was just there, nothing that should have caught their eyes. Plain.
Waiting.
A long-suffering groan rumbled in Cam's chest as he curled up on himself, digging the heels of his palms onto his eyes until fragments of colors started to blur into his vision. Cam stayed there on his trash pile, comforting himself from his stupid thoughts that barged its way in unwantedly.
Cam faced his lesson already. You'd think a trash can would learn from it.
After a moment of sulking to himself, he pushed himself out of his bed and decided to do something else other than being stuck with his own thoughts. He began fixing a few things up, shoving the shoebox into the back of one of his pile of trashes. If he can't see it, he won't acknowledge it. Simple as that.
He sat there for a moment, looking at the spot he buried it in.
...
God damn it.
He needed a drink.
Cam grumbled even more and started grabbing trash to pile it up even more, making sure the gift was well hidden to the point he'll forget it. But even as he did, the more he placed trash upon trash, his chest weighed heavy. It was a gift. A gift from the Human themselves.
The trash he was holding crinkled and folded under his tight fists. A crease formed on his face as he frowned even more, eyebrows furrowed heavily that it looked like it could touch. Cam was starting to feel bad. He liked what was given to him. He liked having a gift from someone. The brunette knew he was being stupid—stubborn to the point he'd do this. Cam was tarnishing the only thing that came from pure intentions.
He stared and stared, burning a hole through his garbage pile and looking at the nonvisible shoebox. He stayed like that for a while, minutes passing through the slip of his fingers before he relented to his heart. Cam began digging the gift out. His hands moved slightly frantically as he pushed his trash aside, letting it spill over the floor until his he saw the shoebox.
Cam grabbed it and took it out, placing it on his lap before opening the box once again. The gifts gleamed under the faint light in his abode. Cam then began picking the contents out and placing it next to him. The coins were lined up next to each other in order of their oxidation process. Bottle caps were then arranged by their dates. The can tab chain was set aside to be added to his future accessories on a shelf.
And then the necklace.
Cam held it tightly in his hand, admiring the faded gold paint and the rusting metal. The straw pendant on the middle was what made his heart skip in the first place. Cam didn't know if it was intentional or not, he didn't want to dig deep it to it as he flipped around. The paper heart that was stapled on it stared right back at him. His thumb brushed against it in a gentle motion, tracing the edge of the shape repeatedly.
It was cute, adorably so. It fitted the person who gave it to him. Cam had no doubt this was something a child would have made for a friend or crush. The idea of the Human blatantly giving it to him knowing they were someone who hoards things from their past, it made him happier. His thoughts were going in circles now. Going rampant about the idea they gave it to him willingly.
The boat he held onto rocked underneath him, nearly throwing him out of loop. Cam looked at the storm that was ahead of him, one that he had refused to acknowledge for a while now. He didn't want to pull back his anchor, not wanting to facing a storm once more. Cam pondered and kept refusing for the sake of his patched up heart as the waves continued to rock him.
Unless...
Unless, it could be some kind of sign. That maybe, just maybe, that small wish in him could be finally answered.
Cam gripped the necklace even tighter, letting his nails dig into his palm from it. He needed to stop being afraid. Abel told him that he should be grateful for getting bumped by his first loved. That he shouldn't spend his time wasting on overthinking about the other person. Cam understood why.
Cam knew they were sweet, too sweet in fact. He had been suspicious, but now he was unsure.
He'll raise his anchor up and sail right to the storm. If he truly cared to know what they thought, he'll have to face it himself. This time he didn't feel like being caged in his own thoughts.
Cam took in a deep breath and stood up. He shoved the necklace down his pocket and turned to leave his home. He wasn't exactly ready to face the Human, but perhaps he could try to make a plan to. The necklace weighed heavy with every step he took and he willed himself to carry on, to go with the flow or whatever the Hanks would say.
Maybe even the gods above hated trash because what the actual fuck is his luck.
Cam was only a few feet away from the entrance of his home when Abel came up to him and told him the situation of the Breaker Box. Apparently, something happened to one of the fuses, so the Human and the two lover boys were on the job trying to fix it. Rending the bar to be temporarily closed. Cam only sighed in response and nodded his head.
Sure he could go to Beverly, but her bar was in the open. No more corners or dark areas he could hide and keep to himself. Plus, he'd be damn if Beverly noticed his predicament and tried to help. No offense to her of course, but for some reason, gossips spread easily. God forbid a certain candle caught wind of it.
Cam turned back around and entered his home with disappointment in tow. He briefly gave Abel a smile. He flopped back down with a groan. Staring up blankly as his lip twitched and jutted out even more.
On the bright side, he could make use of the spare time to think things over.
Snippet of player and our lovely clock cat boys after player had realised everyone
Ft. Timothy & Timmy, Aroace spec! PLAYER
Part 1
Player had never been a touchy person in their life. Sure, they hugged people they're close with, but never longer than 3 seconds. They didn't mean to seem rude sometimes when they pulled away quick, they just didn't like the feeling of touch to linger for too long.
But, recently, in the past 2 years, they found themselves stepping out of their comfort zone a tad bit. They've managed to last a bit longer during hugs and cuddles, sometimes hand holding when someone would ask for it. It became tolerable the more they got closer to their objects. Their touches didn't burn anymore.
If anything, Player found out they were heavily touch starved. So here they were, cuddling with two warm bodies next to them. They couldn't really ask for more.
A soft sigh left their lips as they buried their face in familiar black hair, inhaling the soft lavender scent that became a soothing balm to their soul. It was perfect that it almost made them forget the heavy bones inside them. They managed to ignore it until now, and there was no need to go back crashing down. They were happy with the two, they can keep their mask up a bit more.
Timothy gently held them from behind, his hands settled underneath their shirt as he kneaded the skin there. It made their lips twitched upwards in amusement. No cat instincts my ass, they thought, melting under both the cat boys warmth.
The cool air of the AC brushed over the three, making Player pull the blankets over them even more. The faintly thought of getting up to turn the AC down a bit for the night, but they decided against it as Timmy purred against them, face nuzzling against the underside of their chin. All three of them should be warm enough anyway.
They continued to stare endlessly into the dark, one of his hands playing with Timmy's hair, twirling strands between his fingers. Occasionally, they'd feel a tail or two brush against them or a shift in the sheets if one of the other moved closer to them. Clingy cats they were.
Their house didn't feel cold or empty anymore. They didn't feel alone anymore. Even if this was temporary. They'll soak this up until they are eventually left to drowning under their thoughts.
"Hey.. you know I love you, right?"
A voice rang out in the silence breaking the atmosphere between the cuddled lovers. They didn't notice it was them that spoke until Timothy stirred behind them.
They didn't mean to say it out loud. A passing thought rang sharp and true in their personal hell that was their mind. Maybe their body subconsciously acted on its own by asking the question whether to break the silence that had them trapped in their mind or to ease that loud thought.
It wasn't their fault if they start to drift off and begin thinking negatively.
There were just days where they can't believe they have people around them that cared. They know they do, but they've seen how gross they were and yet they still continued to love them.
They were violent by nature. Prone to activating their fight or flight instincts when things go wrong, and most of the time fight always wins. They hated that, so they ended up shutting their emotions away. Even when they already struggled with it.
But, now, they wondered if their loved ones knew that.
Player wasn't one for words of passion, rather they prefer showing it in their actions or services. It was easier, simpler to convey what they wanted to say. Words were hard for them, harder than dealing with their emotions.
"We know. Your love is special, after all..."
Timothy's hot breath brushed against their neck, raising goosebumps in their skin. They then felt dull claws dig deeper into their skin, squeezing their shoulder blade tightly. Timmy peered up at them, a soft smile gracing his lips.
"Mhm. You loved us, chose to build a relationship with us deeper than your usual friendships."
Player felt them both press kisses on their skin. Timothy planted feather light kisses on the back of their neck and the junction of their shoulder and neck. Timmy on the other head, crawled up higher to cup their face, leaning in to plant kisses everywhere he could reach.
There was a silent understanding between them.
Player never just drops those types of words randomly. Normally they'd just say 'I love you' and such, but rarely in a way that seemed like they were saying it for reassurance.
The clock had been with them way back before they moved into the house, back when they were still learning their divisions and multiplications. Timmy grew up with them, and Timothy along the way.
They've seen you through your worst, silently offering words of comfort. They knew how you worked.
"You placed your problems away to deal with ours. Mine. Even when you weren't great with emotions, you still decided to help us love ourselves. To get me to accept who I was and who I am."
Timmy pulled away slightly to look directly at them, his gaze soft yet stern as if trying to get his words through their thick head. The pad of his thumbs rubbed their cheeks softly, soothing whatever turmoil remained in their mind. Timothy moved behind them and leaned closer to look at their face from over their shoulder.
"You helped us understand each other, and we can't thank you enough for that. We stopped being scared and started acting like ourselves for once. You made me feel normal."
A shaky breath left Player as Timmy's and Timothy's words sat heavy in their chest. Eyes wide with awe and lips parted as a half-assed argument faded on the tip of their tongue. They didn't have an argument with that. They couldn't.
They only stared at the two in the dark, watching as emotions flickered on their face. It didn't take long until their mind processed what was happening, and they finally broke.
It was surreal to actually hear that for once.
It wasn't that the objects-now-people never said that—they all constantly thanked them by texting them about their lives—but those words usually fell on deaf ears. Player knew they did help them, they felt proud of it, but their mind never really acknowledged it from the constant streams of negative they gave themselves.
They weren't the bad person they painted themselves as. And they didn't know what to do with that.
Timmy let out a cat-like noise above them as he collected them into his arms. His hands squeezed their torso tightly, letting them release their emotions. Timothy patted their back, muttering words of comfort and praises, and occasionally leaving kisses.
It was about time their Human acknowledged the positive they've done and not just the bad ones. They were a lonely person, after all. Years of hardship molding them into who they are today.
The two loved their Human. They were the one who helped them solved their problems and turned them into humans. So, it was their turn to be helped now.
Timmy and Timothy weren't Tony or Arty by any means, but they wouldn't be opposed to breaking down a mold and rebuilding it again.
A snippet of player and our lovely clock cat boys after player had realized everyone
Ft. Timothy & Timmy, Aroace spec! PLAYER
Also on AO3
The moment Player woke up from their sleep, they knew it was gonna be a bad day. Those type of days were they go nonverbal and stare at nothing until Doug comes in, well, when he used to anyways. It was tiring.
They stayed laid down in their side, looking at the dresser where a mirror was placed onto it, stuck on the wall. Amir would've said something by now, at least. Mindless thoughts ran around their brain, thinking and thinking like they always did. It never seemed to stop, thought after thought kept popping up in their mind.
It was getting annoying, really, but they didn't have the energy to do anything about it.
A sigh left their lips as exhaustion continued to cling to their bones, if not more. Its familiar weight holding onto them and crushing them underneath it like a weighted blanket. They knew if they stayed like that, they won't be getting out for the next few days. It's days like these that they wished the objects were still here. At least, it would push them out of the bed to go socialize to everyone. But now, the house was empty, devoid of the familiar warmth.
Since when did they get bothered about being alone? Didn't they used to prefer it that way?
Annoyance started to fog their mind, making their eyes twitch as their thoughts began to shift to degrading ones. Pointing of insecurities, berating them of how they couldn't do the simplest things, and how codependent they've become. If they didn't know better, they would've said Nightmare was still lingering around, speaking to them. But they knew the truth. And the truth whispers to them.
Then again, maybe it was better that the objects weren't here anymore. At least they won't be hurt or see the mess they made as a pillow thumped hard against the drawer next to the bed. The mirror shook with the impact, trinkets, and things on the top of the drawer falling off as they sent another pillow flying.
...
Ugh.
Whatever fit of anger or annoyance that came blooming in their chest died down quickly and left a burning ember in its wake. It flickered, spark with the wave of thoughts they still had, but never lighting back up.
They gritted their teeth and clamped their hands down on their biceps, digging their unclipped nails into their skin. Harsh red marks of cresents moon were now etched into their skin. They digged their nails deeper, feeling the jolts of pain run through their body as they continued. They need to get out. Their chest started to feel tight, squeezing their throat and not letting gulps of air pass through.
They hated it. They hated this. They hated how they threw their pills away. They hated how much they needed it.
They're fine. Normal. They didn't need help.
Except they did.
It's the reason why they yearned for the objects to come back home. Back to them.
An ugly noise forces its way out of their mouth, echoing in the quiet room around them. It was cold. So, so cold. Their hands go down their arms, leaving scratch marks now. It didn't register to them that they've started crying from frustration, only when another ugly noise emitted from them they did.
They squeezed their eyes shut, gritting their teeth even more that it started to hurt from the pressure. Their body curled up in itself, making them feel smaller than they already were. It was the only form of comfort their mind knew, even before everything. The idea of being small made them feel safe. It made them feel less panicked.
Like they were in their mother's arms again.
.
.
They don't recall ever falling back asleep, but when they opened their eyes again, they noticed the day was significantly brighter. As much as they could tell from the sunlight peaking through their curtains.
They sniffled slightly, blinking their tear dried eyes and forcing their body to sit up. Copper was on their tongue. It was faint, but it's recognizable. When did they bite down on their cheek? Either way, it wasn't as important as the faint bloodstains on their sheets.
Blood shot eyes looked down at their hand, looking at the blood that were present from underneath their nails. They started to pick on it, cleaning the dried blood away. A quiet groan left them as they sniffled one more. They dropped their hands and looked to the side.
It was still a mess. They should at least fix it. The trinkets were gifts and reminders from the people who loved them. They shouldn't have thrown their pillows, now things were everywhere. They could see a few things cracked or broken.
They didn't mean to. They just lost control.
They were sorry.
They looked back down on their lap before shifting their gaze to the tiny marks of in blood on the sheets. They need to clean that too, Betty wouldn't like that. But She wasn't here anymore. It wasn't noticeable anyways, they could wash it some other time. Their focus should be somewhere else more important.
Player forced themselves out of the bed, catching themselves when their knees bucked underneath them. Their legs felt weak and tired for sleeping for a long time. They grimaced at that and held unto their bedside cabinet, gripping onto the edge tightly.
They took a step forward and went down to their knees. They picked up the items, pushing away the fallen pillows and placing it back on the bed. They each one carefully back in its place—the necklace, letters, notes, bottle caps, a mini figure, and the... the pocket watch.
Player stared at it on their palm, watching it continue to tick despite the small crack on one side now. It was a pretty pocket watch, vintage from where it was bought from. No doubt it cost a bit of money because of its authenticity, Timothy looked collecting clocks, after all. Even more now that he has a human life.
The clock continued to tick, matching their heartbeat like it once did when they held a familiar cat clock to their chest.
Tick
Tick
Tick
Tick
Right. They had a schedule with the two Tims today.
They had an appointment. A date. Timothy didn't like it when people didn't follow his schedule. Timmy wouldn't mind it, but he whines even so. They are one.
Shit.
Suddenly, their body sprang into action as their gaze focused on the time—11:46 am. Did time pass that much when they fell back asleep? They didn't even remember what time they woke up the first time. Time was slipping through their fingers unknowingly once again.
Their tongue darted out of their mouth to ease their chapped lips, and their eyes gazed around their room. They stood up and placed the last trinket back on the drawer. Life began buzzing back under their skin, making them more alert as their thoughts shifted to another topic.
They were going to be late. They didn't want to disappoint the two since they were going to the movies—per Timmy's request since it was his turn. They sucked in a sharp breath and began pacing around their room, hands jittery in restlessness now. Even when they felt exhausted, the anxiety kept them alive.
Their feet dragged them everywhere as their mind turned on autopilot, hands reaching about to fix their bed to look organized. After that, their body moved to their closet, eyes darting around their clothing to pick which one would be the best to wear. They rummaged around the little clothing they had before pulling out a pair of black jeans and that God forsaken red frill shirt. They can both berate them another day.
They then turned around to leave the bedroom, going down the stairs and walking towards the bathroom. They really didn't want to, but they had to be decent for a date. The only option is to force themselves to do it.
Shutting the door behind them, they let out a grimace before they began stripping themselves, dirty clothes falling onto the floor. They stepped around it, kicking it to the side, and walked closer to the shower. They turned the knob to the side and let the water cascade down their skin.
Their hands moved automatically, reaching out for the shampoo and soap, washing away any grime and dirty on their body. The small scratches stung as soap brushed against it, still red and agitated. They should wear a jacket.
After a couple of minutes, they stepped out of the shower and reached out to grab the towel to wipe their skin dry. They faced the sink, grabbing their toothbrush and placing toothpaste on it. They gazed up at the mirror and really looked at their reflection. The eyebags that hung underneath their eyelids, eyes half-lidded and droopy, and the obvious depression that was smacked onto their face.
Their hands ached to destroy something again.
Player then shook their head, pushing the thoughts away to focus on the important matter at hand.
They patted their outfit down, staring at the mirror for one last time. They managed to fix themselves up nicely, adding a few accessories to their body to create a pop of sorts. Their hair was alright. It just needed a few brush backs to settle it down.
They looked alright.
...
Why did they even bother.
Frustration was starting to grow in their chest once more as they slammed their hairbrush down on the dresser. They hated what was looking back at them. The ugly crease on their face as it stared back at them. They swore they were gonna break something soon.
Player shook their head and forced themselves to calm down, letting the tension fade form their body as they took deep breaths. The reflection started to look a bit more pleasing to look at.
They tuned their head to the side, flipping the pocketwatch open to check the time. It was 12:13 pm already. 17 minutes to reach the planned meet-up spot. The mall was only a 10 minute bus drive, so they had enough to go buy gifts and such for the two boys.
A sigh left them, and they reached their free hand up to rub their face. They almost wanted to cancel the date, but they couldn't do that to them. Not when the two had wanted this for so long, both trying to find a day where their schedules are free from their respective works.
The pocketwatch was set back down on the surface, and they walked away from the dresser to grab their phone from the bedside drawer. They unplugged it from its charger and slipped it into their pocket. Player opened a drawer and fished out their wallet and keys before shutting it back closed.
They walked back out of their room and went downstairs, checking every window before leaving out the front door. It clicked shut behind them, and they turned the key to lock it up. Player turned around and faced the street they lived in. Ready to greet the world with open arms.
Not.
They really couldn't do this right now. The sun was burning their eyes already, making them squint just to block it out. Naught was making itself known again, bringing the familiar heavy weight onto them.
They can do this. They needed this. They couldn't just stay inside and rot, this was good for their mental health. They also get to see their queer platonic partners after weeks (months?) of just talking through the phone.
They're sure their therapist would be happy about this as well.
Player took a deep breath, and with huge inner strength, they forced themselves to walk and out of their lawn. Cars were driving by, and people from their neighborhood were walking past, the noises becoming a hum in their mind. Mouth turning dry but they kept their head up and walked.
They couldn't remember the last time the went to the mall for the sake of entertainment. They usually came here to buy clothes or accessories when they wanted to, but other than that, they haven't went to the theater or arcade in a long time. They were sure the last time was during college and that was around 5 years ago.
The bustle of crowds buzzed around them, catching snippets of gossips and conversations between people as they weaved through the bodies of others. There were a lot of people in the mall, Player noted as they looked around. Surprising for a weekday to get this much families and couples walking around.
They entered a Cafe and sat on one of the tables, ordering three cups of coffee—iced mocha for timmy—and some desserts. It was quiet inside, a much better environment for them. The scent of coffee beans and baked goods wafted through the whole area, giving of a lovely smell.
The clad in red sat patiently in the corner, leg bouncing up and down their mind drifted off once again that day. They hoped they were dressed all alright, they didn't want to see as if they weren't prepared—which technically they weren't—and they did put effort to look good. The bouquet of flowers crumpled under the squeeze of their hands, leg bouncing Even more.
They should've bought something better, like really? A bouquet? How clique was that? This was a type of gift you get at the last minute, a simple a gift. Timothy and Timmy deserved something more that a bunch of flowers. It should've been more thoughtful not something basic like–
"_____!"
A boyish voice rang out by the front door of the cafe, followed by a loud huss from someone else. The two voice bickered back and forth as they grew nearer. Player's heart stilled, body tensing up as they raised their head up.
They were greeted with two familiar look alikes, one sporting a more formal attire, and the other wearing something more casual and less facial hair. Timothy and Timmy sat down at the table, with Timmy immediately latching onto them with a big smile. Timothy on the other hand let out another groan and looked at their partner with a small smile.
"Apologies for being late, dearest. Someone–" Timothy glared at his counterpart, to which the other responded with an eyes roll. "Took too long waking up from their nap. I was hoping we would at least come here in time if we both rushed, but it seemed we lost a few minutes."
"Oh, hush, it's only 3 minutes."
"Still! We made _____ wait for us when we should've berm here 3 minutes ago. And by this time we would've been chatting already."
Player continued to watch them bicker amongst themselves, watching the quips fly by like a tennis ball being bounced back. Their lips twitched up at the familiar banter, forming a small smile on their face. They didn't even notice their body relaxing just a tad bit.
"Oh forget it, we're here now anyways."
Timothy looked back at The human, calming down his irritation towards Timmy and grabbing a hold of their hand. He raise strength hand up and placed a small kiss on their knuckles.
"Again apologies, dearest, but it's so nice to see you again after a long time."
"It's alright. If anything, I thought I was the late one." They replied, merely shaking their head, laughing lightly at Timothy's gesture. One to have more of a subtle forwardness, not one to smother them.
"I'm glad to see you both again, and rather happy you two are thriving in your new lives.
"But, of course! The people love Timmy more and more. I can't count how many times I've been asked for photo shoots." Timmy beamed next to them, straightening himself up as he reached out to grab a donut form the table. They faintly remembered checking on Timmy's Instagram the other day, coming across a post of him being on a poster.
"Yes. And I can't count how many times I had to shove your schedule to your face." Timothy responded, earning a laugh from their partner. He huffed out slightly, grabbing his cup coffee and taking a sip of him. He then started to speak, bringing up topics about things from his work and what he and Timmy do on the daily basis.
It made their smile wider as the listened to stories and gossip from both of the cat boys. They found themselves relaxing even more as the two chatted away, filling the empty spot in their chest that they yearned to fill. They felt normal again. Whole, even.
And during their conversations, Timmy pointed out the bouquets they held and gave it to them. They swallowed their anxiety down and watched the two carefully, and their expressions quelled their thoughts.
"So, I'm guessing you both like it then?" They asked, scratching the back of their neck bashfully. They still thought they could've done better, but the way the two smiled was more than enough.
"You're so thoughtful, _____. These would look so good in Timmy's bedroom." Timmy smiled at them with rose tinted cheeks. He then leaned close to practically smother them with his tight hug, giggling like a high school girl.
"He's right. They look gorgeous, darling. I'm starting to wish I brought something with me too." Timothy hummed to himself, placing the bouquet down carefully on the table. The pad of his thumb gently caressed a petal. He looked back up, elation clinging on the crinkles of his eyelids as his pupils dilated.
"If you would, after this date, shall we accompany you home? I wish to make up for the time loss," Timothy blinked down at the flowers for a second, "and perhaps buy you a gift as well? It wouldn't be fair at all if we didn't."
Player let out a fond huff, a low hum rumbled in their chest as they nodded. They pulled Timmy closer to them, squeezing his hips as he expressed his own thoughts.
It would be great to have them around once more. The house wouldn't be silent and empty anymore, even if it's for one night. They'll take anything to feel the warmth again.
Tonight would be the best night they'll have in a long time.
Cam was the epitome of what was used in the kitchen—plastics, wastes, and card boards. They were unwanted.
Yet, Mc wanted him. They wanted to get closer to Cam, to know him more underneath those plastic wraps.
Ft. Cameron "Trash Cam" & Aroace spec! PLAYER
On AO3 as well
Everyone in the house are special in their own way, each corresponding traits to the object they were tied to. Mc loved everyone in their house, the way they lit up the room by bringing in their charm. They didn’t feel alone anymore, from Dorian’s stern but soft chiding, Betty’s soft lullabies, to Stefan helping them cook food that made their stomach full and warm and to everything really. It felt good.
But there was this one object that sparked their interest.
Their trash can. Garbage.
The one that tries to push them away with his nonchalance, insults that stung, and the walls he had around him. Cameron—or simply Cam—was, well, the odd one out in the whole cast of the kitchen area. He stood out in the midst of kitchen appliances, food, and kitchen utensils. Cam was the epitome of what was used in the kitchen—plastics, wastes, and card boards. They were unwanted.
Yet, Mc wanted him. They wanted to get closer to Cam, to know him more underneath those plastic wraps.
Mc liked him as he was, brash, confident, and unforgivably him. They didn’t mind his presence at all despite him not being a man of few words. He was a different type of air from most objects that were all outgoing, more warmer. Cam was similar to them in a way. Keeping people in arms length.
Was it a crazy thought to perchance want kiss your trash can?
Possibly.
Staring at the boxes they had pulled out, Mc was starting to think they were getting desperate. They wanted to get something for Cam for the sake of getting closer to him and maybe getting him to smile. Cam was an objectively (hah) a handsome man, they wont lie about that, and he was oddly kissable. Sam said they had an eye for weird things, having fixations on things most would call odd. This would be one of them.
If they asked Sam if having an interest in their trash can is weird, she’d send the number of their old therapist. Prick.
They huffed out a breath and shook their head. They were already deep into this, no backing out now. Mc reached out and removed the lid of the shoebox. It was dusty, rotting away underneath their bed for so long, and they were sure they were going to need to clean their room after this. They peered in the box, nostalgia washing over them as they looked through its contents.
Trinkets and scraps when they were younger, things they’ve hoarded up in the box because of sentimentality. Their parents told them to throw these away when they moved out, but they couldn’t. Not when they held memories of the past, they burned and clung onto.
Well, that was a trauma dump and a half. They’ve got a guy to swoon.
They then began digging around, bringing stuff out and placing it down beside them. Bottle caps that were vintage, can tabs they used to make chains from, quarters they kept, and an old zippo lighter. Their old niche collections finally got its use. They were right to keep these with them. Mc didn’t have any use for these anymore, but they can give it to Cam as a gift. Well, maybe they’ll keep the lighter. Maybe.
They hummed a quiet tune to themselves as they sort out their things, checking the quality of it—the rusts on the metals and the oxidation on the copper coins—these were probably like asking Cam to marry them with the scraps they had. They hoped to whatever being up there in the sky would give them luck to at least see that man smile at them when they give Cam this.
(They made sure to leave the lighter on their bed.)
Mc dusted the box off properly, wiping the sides to make it at least look a bit good. They placed the trinkets back into the box and stood up to go to their closet. They had something else in mind to add to the collection.
They set the box down on their shelf and knelt down in front of a few other boxes in there, hidden underneath piles of clothes. Mc reached out and pushed the clothes off and dug inside of the box. "Sorry, Clarence. Need something from ya." They whispered as they continued to push junk around. It took a while, but they finally got it.
A necklace made out of an old chain and a straw folded star.
Maybe this is getting a bit excessive. This is the most gifts Mc has given someone in one sitting. But, hey, they needed a way to show Cam that they weren't just being nice for the sake of saving face. They care a lot about the people in their house, even when usually they usually don't seek out relationships with others.
Mc stared at it for a moment, dangling the DIY accessory in front of them. It was obviously worn out, but its charm was still there from all those years ago. The fake gold paint on the chain may have been faded, but some still shined under the light. It was rusty. Perfect for Cam.
With a smile, they stood back up and grabbed the shoebox down. They pulled off the cover and added the necklace next to the cluster of bottle caps. Mc then fixed their clothes back to its original position, muttering a fake promise of fixing up Clarence the next time they open their closet.
They shut their closet back closed and began to make their way downstairs with the box held tightly in their hands. A stupid grin rested on their face as they tried not to trip on their feet while they slipped on the Date-viators single handedly. Mc faintly heard Stella's voice chiding them not to walk down so fast, to which they mumbled a small apology in response.
Once the glasses were settled on their face, the world became a bit brighter, and the familiar faces of their objects greeted them. Mc will forever thank the mysterious hacker for the new update on the Date-viators to make them see everyone without wasting energy.
They muttered greetings to each object they walked past, giving them a wave or a smile as they made their way to the kitchen. They turned their head side to side, trying to catch a glimpse of the man who was their current goal for the day. Mc could see Stefan and Luke chatting about by the corner, Freddy, and Mitchell were talking as well, probably about the food Mc has been eating recently, and the rest were doing their jobs.
Mc pursed their lips as they tried even harder to find Cam in the kitchen. Maybe he wasn't here and in another place? Usually, Cam would be at the kitchen since the most trash cam from this area. Huh.
But when they saw a black lump sitting down by the window, they disregarded their thought. Cam was by himself as usual, hidden among the crowd of kitchen objects. Mc quickly slipped past the others, eyeing them to not notice anything before crouching down by Cam.
They saw Cam do a double take on them, not exactly expecting them to suddenly appear in front of him. He raised a brow, a questioning glance as he took in the awkward smile that was on their face. Which grew even wider when they shuffled closer. The human was always weird in a way. Especially to him after that whole fiasco when they first met.
"What is it? You got something for me?" Cam asked, sitting up right as he crossed his arms on his chest. The paper straw he was fiddling with disappeared into his clothing. Mc nodded their head and held out the shoebox to Cam with a half shrug.
"Here. I was cleaning my room and found these. You can have 'em."
The brunette took the shoebox, staring at the human for a moment before looking down on the box. Cam pulled off the cover of the box and stared at the contents with wide eyes. His lips parted slightly in awe, and he reached a hand it to inspect the items. Was this how gamblers felt when they hit jackpot?
Holy shit.
Mc watched Cam with their bottom lip between their teeth. Their index finger tapped on thigh, a restless rhythm as they waited for him to sat something. Cam picked up a bottle cap, flipping it on his hand before tossing it back in to get a couple of coins out. They were old, rotting, and most importantly, perfect.
"I– what? Just what the hell.."
Cam's voice trailed off the moment he saw the necklace, bringing it out from the box and dangling out in the open. He could feel the rush of dopamine from the tip of his toes to his head. It was beautiful. An accessory reused from scraps was treasure, basically.
"These are all for me?"
The man shook his head in disbelief and looked back at the human in front of him. Mc cleared their throat and scratched the back of their neck.
"Well, yeah. These are things I don't need anymore, so I thought, why not give it to you, ya'know?"
"Seriously? I'm sure Jeffrey would love a few of these. These are a lot."
They heard Cam laugh out dryly, closing the box up and setting it down next to him. There was a hint of skepticism in his eyes.
"Probably, but he's filled with my junk already. It's about time I give you things anyway." They shrugged, attempting to act nonchalantly. Of course, they won't tell the real reason why. Mc didn't really want to deal with 'feelings', nor do Cam want too, especially in a crowded area.
"I.. well, thanks. I guess."
Cam slowly nodded his head, his gaze flickering from them and the box. His fingers twitched at his sides, wanting to open the box once more and drown in the euphoria it brought. But not now, not when Mc was watching.
"Yeah.."
The two sat there on the kitchen floor, staring at each other. The other voices became background music to the silence between them. Without it, Mc would be cringing at the awkwardness.
"Did.. did you want something or..?" Cam gestured to the trinkets, head tilting to the side, "I'm sure you had another reason to just randomly want to give it all to me."
"I just wanted to, really."
Mc looked at the box and then returned Cam's gaze. Their smile turned slightly less awkward, a soft look washing over their face. Their hands clasped together, thumbs dwindling with each other as they spoke.
"You're.. my trash can. You collect these things, so I thought why not just give it to you."
They licked their drying lips. Their hands began cracking their knuckles.
"You see the appeal on things most wouldn't really see. I think it's great. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, after all."
Cam blinked at them. His expression was stoic, but the faint flush on his face didn't exactly hide anything. Mc had to hold back on giving him a full-on grin.
"That was sappy. You didn't need to go there at all... seriously, thanks..."
"Of course. No problem, man."
Mc gave him a wink before standing back up. They patted invisible dust of their clothes and shifted on their spot. Their hands were shoved in their pockets, and they cleared their throat for the second time in the conversation.
"I'm just gonna.. go now. I still have stuff to, um, clean."
"Right. See ya."
They gave Cam one last look before shuffling out of the kitchen in a stiff manner. Things got awkward a bit too quickly. God, is this how people actually flirt? They wouldn't know. Romance wasn't something that participated in it.
They ran a hand through their hair and went back up the steps, rethinking the whole conversation they had with Cam.
Cam watched from the corner of his eyes from his spot, face back on the box. He held the necklace back up to his eyes, turning the plastic heart around to see a small heart.
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