Part 1 of ?
As Bill walked through the park, hand in hand with his (yes, his) Pine Tree, he couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if he had never met Shooting Star? His first thought was that he’d never know what it’d felt like to wake up from the early texts Pine Tree sent him every morning with a “wake up, sleepyhead” and maybe a smiley face, or something among the lines of it (sometimes he got a joke, and he knew that on those days his Pine Tree woke up in a good mood and they could smile together and laugh at silly things).
And then, he wouldn’t have a reason to be smiling everyday, as cheesy as it sounded.
Honestly, when had his life become a slow-build, fanfic with hints of angst and some fluff?
…ha ha, he really needed to go outside more. Thanks Will for your not-appreciated-suggestions that you make everyday.
He knew his brother was only trying to get him to take care of himself, though.
Who could stay mad at someone like him anyway?
Then he thought how drastically his life changed.
But, as soon as blurry images and unwanted emotions started to form in his mind, not letting him hear the sounds of the world surrounding him, he hastily blocked them out. Sad, angry, out. Happy, calm, in.
He felt Pine Tree’s rather small hand (compared to his, of course) tug at his sleeve, and he was shaken out of his dream-like state.
He let a smile form in his lips, which then turned into a full smirk as he noticed the water fountain behind the worried face of his lover.
Before Pine Tree could utter a single sound, he shoved him into the body of water behind him.
A girly screech resulted from it, “BILL!”
Bill laughed, but as he guffawed loudly, Pine Tree took his chance and pulled Bill with him.
Oh boy, this was war.
-.
Okay, so now their clothes were enveloped in cold water, their hair wasn’t drying yet, and their shoes were dripping, but the content expressions lightening up both their faces was just so worth it. Besides, he didn’t see Pine Tree complain when he put on his soaked signature hat.
And then, a single drop of water came from the sky.
It gracefully (or as graceful as water could) landed on Pine Tree's nose.
He laughed (almost hysterically at this point, but well, who could blame him?) and wiped it off with the back of his hand.
Then another one soon replaced it. Then his eyes widened just the tiniest bit and his laugh stopped (Bill’s did not, he instead started crackling like a madman, but that was normal- he always sounded like one).
Then he glanced up at the sky, and he thanked his quick reflexes because a raindrop almost landed in his eye. His lips slightly parted together, taking in the sight of grey clouds and trees around him, some people quickening their pace to get to their homes before the rain got to them.
And in that moment, Bill knew he would do anything to see that same face laughing in glee again and again.
Alright, he had it bad for Pine Tree. Real bad.
He leaned over, attempting to capture Pine Tree’s lips on his own.
But next a raindrop came and landed on his hair, and then another, and another, and shit it was raining why didn’t they get home sooner.
They were already soaked in water, but this? It went over the limit.
He wouldn’t complain if he got to spend a few more days at home. Even while sick, because he was sure that Pine Tree was the one to dote on sick people like a mother, actually, Pine Tree would make a good mother-
No, brain, stop.
Too soon.
And even if he was sure Pine Tree couldn’t do much if the two of them were sick, nothing could’ve stopped his following action.
He crouched down, almost as if he was picking up something he had dropped, but he hadn’t dropped anything, and Pine Tree narrowed his eyes suspiciously (and that face was still cute) but oh well what could he loose?
Bill grabbed mud from the ground beneath them, and launched it directly at Pine Tree’s face.
Because, what was he good for besides (possibly) technology?
Throwing stuff, of course. He was always chosen first on P.E. When it came to dodgeball, anyway.
For a moment, everything froze.
And he got caught up in worry because what if he had overdone it? What if he had hit Pine Tree harder than intended? He was sure that he wasn’t as fragile as a Chinese Vase but he had made it his personal goal to protect his sweet little Pine Tree-
And well, he needn’t worry.
Because he was hit by a sloppily-made mud ball.
Right across his face.
He made a mental note to never underestimate his lover again, and hid behind the nearest tree because fuck, Pine Tree was surprisingly fast.
On second thought, why was Pine Tree so fast? If he had been forced to learn how to dodge by not-so-nice people, he’d have to give someone a lesson later.
On a third thought, fuck, did he leave the ice cream outside the fridge? Hopefully not, it was his favorite. Crap, he probably did. Maybe Will was a good brother for once and he put it back inside?
Goddamnit, he was sure he had been hit by at least four mud balls now.
Time to step up on his game.
-.
And so, when they both came back to the Mystery Hack (that was what Bill read –the S having fell out- and nobody had corrected him), at a really late hour, completely soaked from head to toes, covered in dirt and mud and shivering from the cold (Pine Tree had refused several times to wear Bill’s jacket, because he didn’t want him to catch a cold), Shooting Star didn’t ask anything.
She only grinned, and stepped aside to let them in.
They cuddled on the couch, attempting to share warmth- but Bill kept moving and it eventually exhausted Pine Tree.
She then came into the room, with two cups of hot chocolate (with marshmallows on top, and it was delicious) and a big, warm blanket.
And God, Bill could’ve just hugged her- but then again, he didn’t want Shooting Star to end up with the flu as well, who’d take care of them then?
-.
They sipped on their now warm chocolate, and then Pine Tree suddenly sneezed.
A real cute sneeze, to be honest. Sounded like a kitten’s. Maybe he’d grow a tail and ears too.
So Bill smirked, eyebrows raised, and he opened his mouth to talk, “Pine Tree, that was absolutely adorab-“
He sneezed too.
In the end, it became a sneezing contest.
-.
Pine Tree won.
-.
Poor Shooting Star could not deal with the two of them sick at the same time.
Pine Tree didn’t say much, but he could not be inside his own room for more than an hour.
He’d have to be dragged out of the hidden lab by his sister.
Will managed to bring him books and videogames, and was thanked profusely by Pine Tree’s twin.
On the other hand, Bill asked for so much things but stayed in bed. However, he was always bored and unwilling to stay still.
He kicked, tossed around, and absolutely hated medicine. He glared at the pills as if they had just insulted his ancestors and flipped him the bird at the same time.
Will had to wrestle to make him eat the gross stuff, and somehow, an ill Bill always won.
However, an ill Bill could not win against Shooting Star.
His pride had been ultimtely destroyed.
By his lover’s sister, nonetheless.
What kind of madness was this? Now Pine Tree could not look at him in the eye without bursting out laughing.
-.
He was writing the next assignment for his least favorite class, trying his hardest to concentrate on the paper. He didn’t have many things to blackmail Will into doing his homework (surprisingly, yet at the same time now, the way they wrote was exactly the same, and he’d always blamed it on the ‘shared-a-womb-for-9-months’ thing). So, all he could do was bullshit his way through school. Or ask Pine Tree to do it for him, but Pine Tree was doing his own homework, in the exact same table as him.
And, it was pretty calm. You could hear the birds chirping, a few leaves gushing in the wind and maybe, if you listened closely enough, you could faintly hear the one-sided conversation between Tad and Will on a few floors below them.
(Ha, Bill could remember that one time he gave Pine Tree a tour through the mansion. Hilarious, poor kid got lost a few times and had to use his cellphone to call him to the rescue.)
But on moments as tranquil as these, once again Bill wondered what he’d do without Pine Tree.
Subconsciously, his grip on the pencil he was holding tightened.
Who could he bother in the mornings whenever he had a rather nice dream and wanted to talk about it?
Who could he fangirl with over some silly anime?
Who could make him smile?
And once again, Bill merely shook his head, bad thoughts going out, and returned to his work.
He made a mental note to hug Pine Tree later, when they weren’t both doing boring homework.
-.
To be honest, Bill never thought he’d be ordering a life-sized Chocobo plush…
No, he had never thought of that.
But, Pine Tree was such a huge dork for Final Fantasy, and absolutely loved chocobos, and had asked Bill for one.
Pine Tree probably expected a poster he could hang on his wall or maybe even a small plushie.
And that was exactly what he had said, “I’ve always wanted a poster, but, do you think we can get a plushie?”
Damn that cute face he always did when he asked for something. It was slowly killing Bill from the inside.
But, Pine Tree could shove his expectations up his ass, because Bill was buying him a goddamn life-sized chocobo and that was motherfucking final.
-.
The face Pine Tree did when he found it in his bedroom a few weeks later was so worth it.
-.
Bill slowly snuck his head out of the bush he was hiding in, opening his mouth.
Pine Tree gently (not that he could seriously hurt someone) smacked him in the head and hushed him.
He nodded and dropped back in, but asked nonetheless, “what are we doing again?”
“Mabel was all dressed up earlier. She’s up to something.”
“She’s always dressed up,” Bill whined, just wanting to be on bed for a few more couple of days-
“We can make up for lost time later,” Pine Tree offered, and suddenly, the sour mood evaporated into thin air, sending Bill into his secret spy-mode.
A few minutes later of eavesdropping on the intense conversation about the different pasta types a group of friends were having on a bench not too far away, Bill broke the silence, frowning.
“…shooting star’s not even here; why are we hiding in a bush.”
Cue for another smack in the head.
-.
“Pine Tree, look! That’s Shooting Star!”
“Oh, yeah, you’re right Bill.”
“SHOOTI-“
Smack!
Pine Tree quickly placed his palm on Bill’s mouth to shut him before he could greet his sister, and glared at him.
However, Bill was immune to glares.
They continued observing Shooting Star in silence. She had a few shopping bags, and… a yellow, shining, bright teddy bear(?) in her arms, along with a box of chocolates and a balloon.
Wait.
“Pine Tree, is that… Llama?”
Llama seemed to be carrying more(?) ( on a side note, holy fuck, how strong were those girls?) shopping bags, and was holding Shooting Star’s hand…
Oh.
Oh.
Ooh.
OOOHHHHH-
And apparently he had been saying that aloud, because his face met a shocked Pine Tree who had his finger raised as if he were about to argument.
He smiled.
Then his smile turned mischievous, and Pine Tree’s mouth turned from an ‘O’ shape to a straight line.
Then Pine Tree opened his mouth, “Bill, whatever you’re planning, don’t-“
Bill ignored that for once.
Then he shouted in glee,
“GET SOME, SHOOTING STAR!”
-.
Turns out, the girls were really strong.
-.
Sometimes, very few times, Bill wondered if he’d ever have to say a final goodbye to Pine Tree.
In those rare occasions, he shut his mind down and subconsciously cuddled further with his lover.
-.
“Have you ever noticed that, like, there was a time were your parents left you on the floor and never picked you up again?”
Alright, so maybe he shouldn’t have introduced his favorite brand of candies to Pine Tree.
Bill shook his head and cursed as he played The Legend of Zelda: A Link To The Past and reached another dead end.
Pine Tree ignored that, and continued rambling, “did you know that your sneezes can travel up to 100 miles per hour and that the electric washing machine was invented because women spent too much hours into cleaning shirts, and that there have been several characters that have broken Captain America’s shield, but one of the most retweeted tweets is from a Spanish youtuber and it just says ‘lemonade’? It’s been retweeted far more times than Obama’s tweet, which is really a shame because I really hoped that Obama’s tweet would eventually be the number one- did you know that marshmallows are made of bone-“
…too late to regret anything now.
-.
The clock was ticking, second by second.
People were alarmed, some even panicking. Their heartbeat rates weren’t exactly what you’d see on a regular basis, and their breathing was increasing as time went on. The entirely white walls did not help in the slightless to add a bit of normalcy to the already creepy environment.
Bill was sweating profusely, slouched over his seat.
He couldn’t do this. He could not do this.
He could vaguely hear a few muffled voices through the thick silence.
If he strained his hearing, he could hear a few scraps of pencil against paper.
However, he could barely concentrate.
It seemed like all of his brain cells had just packed their bags and left his brain. Forever, or at least until the exam was over.
He glanced around.
Goddamn.
Will didn’t seem to be having any troubles and Pine Tree’s seat was empty, the owner nowhere to be found. He had probably finished the test, then. For some strange reason, there were circles drawn in the desk, some colored and some were not.
…
It all clicked in his head.
Grabbing his pencil thanks to newborn determination (and maybe, just maaaybe, Pine Tree’s genius brain), he answered the rest of his exam.
Thank you, Pine Tree.
-.
“Bill?”
“Yeah, Pine Tree?”
“Can we… prank call Gideon.”
“Sure.”
-.
“And then, Pine Tree knew he was hopelessly in love with the beautiful blonde, otherwise known as Bill.”
“Bill, that’s now how the story goes,” Pine Tree chuckled.
-.
“HEY PINE TREE!”
“Hmm?”
“WHY DID THE GIRL FALL OFF THE SWING?”
“… why, Bill?”
“BECAUSE SHE DIDN’T HAVE ANY ARMS!”
Cue for Bill crackling.
“…ha. Ha. Ha,” Pine Tree deadpanned.
“WHY DID SHE FALL OFF AGAIN?”
“I don’t know, Bill. Why?”
“BECAUSE HER MOTHER FELL OFF THE WAGON!”
Cue for Bill laughing like it was the best joke ever (it kinda creeped out Pine Tree).
“What the fuck, Bill.”
“WHY DID THE LITTLE BOY DROP HIS LOLLIPOP?”
“Because he was hit by a truck?”
“BECAUSE HE GOT STUCK IN THE INDUSTRIAL MEAT GRINDER!”
Cue for Bill guffawing.
“…Bill.”
“YEAH?”
“What the hell did you eat.”
“THE STRAWBERRY POPTARTS!”
“The ones that are like, five months old?”
“…YEAH?”
“…”
-.
“How the fuck do you solve this. Pine Tree, help me.”
“Bill that was meant for toddlers.”
“How the fuck can toddlers do this.”
“Bill it’s just a 10-piece puzzle-“
“How.the.fuck.can.a.toddler.do.this.”
-.
“And, Pine Tree did end up helping the drop-dead gorgeous blonde, thus finishing the puzzle in record time.”
“Bill.”
“Yeah, darling?”
“You didn’t even complete it.”
“…party popper.”
-.
“Pine Tree.”
“Mmh?”
“Pine Tree, look.”
“Look at what?”
“At me.”
“Okay.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“What are you doing?”
“Reading a book in the sexiest position ever,” Bill wriggled his eyebrows.
“…”
-.
Now, Bill could say things were okay and truly mean it.