Honey Pots
Josh doesn't say anything, padding quietly around Chris' apartment. He weaves through the living room, Chris' bedroom and kitchen, each cracked open door an invitation for him to peek into. There's a slight limp in his walk.
Josh examines pictures on the wall, tiny trinkets lining Chris' counters and windowsills, eyes unfocused and glossy. Josh flicks at Bill Gates bobble head, smiling softly when it bounces around. Josh glances out Chris' living room window, moving to sit against the ledge.
Chris hasn't said anything, tension lining his body. He watches Josh look around, arms wrapped tight across his chest. His legs twitches nervously, knee locking and buckling with each silent second.
Josh faces him, hands fisted in his lap. He eyes Chris nervously, tonguing the crusting scab in the corner of his mouth. His bruises look nastier under the harsh lighting of Chris' apartment, skin pale and sickly. He smells like blood.
Chris bites at his lips, fingers tapping his forearms. The silence makes him nervous but he can't figure out how to broach the subject. He wants to know if Josh told anyone about it, how the conversation with the police went, something. Realistically Chris knows he could just ask but he's been trying to calm down for the past three days and Josh arriving on his doorstep isn't helping.
"You always this quiet?"
Emily would say some days it takes a tranquilizer to shut Chris up. He shakes his head. A wary smile crosses Josh's face, hands folded in his lap. He stares intently at the floor, dirtied high tops rocking back and forth.
"Yeah, me either." Josh sighs. He manages a weak smile. "Look, man. We should.. We should talk about what happened."
That's the exact opposite of what Chris wants to do, but considering Josh is in his apartment instead of some CCG operative, ready to harvest Chris' insides for field hockey, he guesses this is as bad and awkward as it gets.
Chris sighs heavily, moving to sit on the couch. He peeks over at Josh, the other man regarding him quietly.
"Okay. We can.. talk about it."
Josh's lips twitch. "I haven't told anyone."
Chris tenses.
Josh notices, exhaling. "I-I haven't.. about you. I just said another ghoul attacked."
"They actually believed you?" Chris finds himself saying.
"Seriously, bro? I'm about as plain as they get so obviously I'm not a prime suspect." Josh stresses, expression softening. "I.. It took a lot to come here-"
"So why did you?" Chris snaps. Josh recoils, eyes widening slightly and Chris curses internally, forcing himself to relax. He rubs at his eyes, a harsh sigh escaping his lips.
"I'm sorry." Chris stresses, pinching his face between his hands. "Oh my god, this is not how I wanted this conversation to go."
"You had a preference on how you wanted this to go?" Josh smirks, amused.
"I'd prefer not to have this conversation at all." Chris mumbles bitterly. "At all. As in ever."
It was better than the alternative though, also better than Emily showing up on his doorstep, fiery and angry. She lived next door so Chris is sure it's only a matter of time, Jess was already dropping by which meant kind death.
Josh falls silent, eyes darting between Chris and the floor. His thumb smooths along his wrist, Chris noticing old, dark scars lining the skin.
"Can I see them?"
Chris blinks. "See what?"
Josh gestures to his waist, flailing his arms weirdly like noodles. Chris stares at him. Josh chuckles softly, doing the gesture until it clicks in Chris' mind.
"Dude, no. That's weird."
Josh rolls his eyes, "C'mon, Cochise. I've already been subjected to their.. Uhm. Yeah. I've seen it. Just kinda wanna see them and not be terrified."
Chris frowns, worry lining his stomach. "God, can we.. No, Josh. Maybe later but I definitely don't want you to see them."
Josh pouts, it's desired effect a bit more intense due to the fact that Josh resembles a kicked and abandoned puppy. Chris knows he can't stay in the apartment with Josh and not want to rip his own hair out at the idea of Josh being in his apartment after he witnessed Chris turn another ghoul into chow mien.
"You wanna go somewhere?" Chris asks, but he's already decided he's leaving, grasping a discarded sweater from the couch. He slides it on, patting on wrinkles.
"Where?" Josh asks, voice nervous and timid.
"I don't know. You pick. I just.." Chris exhales sharply. "This isn't an ideal situation. At all."
"Yeah," Josh agrees.
"I can't be in my apartment with you."
Josh straightens, staring down hard at the floor. He nods slowly, rising up from his seat with a muted gasp, face wrinkling up in pain. Josh sets his weight on his right side, hands in pockets and the smile he gives Chris seems easy.
"I meant I can't think." Chris corrects.
"Yeah, yeah. I get it, man." Josh dismisses, hobbling towards the front door. He watches Chris pull on a windbreaker then a jacket, snickering softly when Chris struggles to figure out which zipper goes to which.
Josh reaches for the ends of his jacket, skin brushing against Chris' hands as he takes the zipper. He connects them easily, sliding it up halfway. His hand hesitates, grey eyes flickering up to meet Chris'.
Josh steps away. Chris wishes he would've worn a turtleneck so he could hide the growing blush on his face. He settles for tucking his chin into the clasp of his jacket, ignoring the tickle inside him. Chris catches Josh's brief smile.
"I look like shit so someplace not amazing." Josh admits quietly.
"Whatever you want."
"You're being pretty reasonable." Josh comments, prying Chris' front door open and stepping into the hallway. "You didn't have to let me in."
"Yeah, well." Chris can't think of anything to say, locking his apartment door behind him. Josh bumps their shoulders.
"Is this savior's guilt?"
Chris snorts at that. "I feel like you aren't grasping the intensity of the situation."
"I have." Josh tells him, moving towards the elevator. He jams his thumb into the downward arrow, stepping around to face Chris.
"If you did, this," Chris stresses, "wouldn't be happening."
Josh gives him a worn smile. He doesn't say anything, limps into the elevator shaft once the doors open and rests heavily along the railing. Chris tries to think back to their previous passings, their quick "hi, bye" to see if Josh had always seem this exhausted.
His memory supplies no recollection.
"Were you born a ghoul?" Josh asks, glancing up at Chris curiously. Chris nods.
"Your parents are ghouls too?"
"Yeah." Chris answers curtly.
"Is Matt a ghoul?"
"You should ask Matt." Chris tells him, allowing Josh to walk out first once they've hit the basement floor. Josh hums ponderously, walking close beside Chris.
"Guess you're getting that date after all." Josh jokes weakly. Chris had forgotten about that, the past few days of panic and worry completely wiping his mind of any small details. He fumbles for his keys, clicking the tiny unlock icon. The lights of his Honda glow in the farthest corner.
"Why did you cancel?"
"To get eaten, couldn't ya tell?" Josh answers smartly, a slight edge to his voice.
"Did a real shitty job. Put up a sign next time."
Josh laughs, this hoarse, whimsical sound that fits nicely in his throat. He nudges Chris, a faint smile lingering on his lips. Josh whistles softly once they reach the car, prying the passenger door open. It shifts when he drops in, flailing like a small child before settling. Chris climbs into the driver's side.
"It's pretty."
Chris glances him, slotting the key into the ignition. "My car? It's a piece of shit."
Chris only drove if he was tired and even then, he preferred walking. He starts up it up, masking a sigh under the noise of the engine. Josh crosses his legs, one folding over his knee as the other stretches out.
"No," Josh chuckles. "Your things. The tentacles or whatever. They're pretty."
"That's a way to look at it." Chris mutters, face heating up.
"It was like watching clouds."
"Don't sound so impressed." Chris smiles, hand braced on the steering wheel. He eases on from his parking spot, shifting gears as Josh falls quiet in the passenger seat, leaned against the window, eyes focused on the passing landscape.
They don't agree on anything, Chris' difficult indifference on food only settled when Chris reminds Josh that he can't eat anything. Chris picks McDonald's, Josh whines the entire time and makes Chris order when he'd rather crawl into a hole somewhere.
"Mickie D's, Cochise? Really?"
"It's cheap and shitty, so no one will send me weird looks if I slap that shit in the trash."
"Nice." Josh grins, rapping his knuckles against the counter as they wait. A few looks are sent their way, soft murmurs about Josh's bruises and busted lip but Josh doesn't seem to mind, either ignoring it completely or unaware it's happening.
A woman passes a tray filled with food towards them, shaking her head sympathetically at Josh's appearance. She places extra honey mustard on the tray. Chris takes it, Josh retreating from the counter with a weird look on his face. They sit in the back, closest to the Windows separating the main store and play area. Shrill screams of joy bounce off the glass.
"So do you like.. get sick?" Josh asks, munching on a handful of fries. He looks up at Chris, watching in awe as the other pushes at ketchup with his nuggets. "Eating this?"
"Pretty much." Chris answers honestly, saving the gross vomit filled bits to himself. He remembers the first time he had human food, spaghetti at a friend's house in middle school. Chris had been fine the first ten minutes but shortly after his entire life flashed before his eyes as he vomited in their guest bathroom.
"That sucks." Josh comments absently. "Nuggets are amazing."
"That's what I keep hearing." Chris snorts, watching Josh peel skin off a nugget. "At least I don't get fat."
"You'd look cute fat, chubby, whatever." Josh averts his gaze. "You're pretty cute regardless."
"I'm a man eater." Chris reminds him, a smile twitching onto his lips. Josh shrugs, stealing some nuggets from Chris' container. He doesn't like ketchup or any kind of sauce, likes his food plain and salted, peels the skin off nuggets and sets it to the side. It's interesting to watch different kinds of people eat.
"You came back, so.. You can't be that bad." Josh peers up at him as he says it, eyelashes fanning across his cheek. "Can you do that? Eat other ghouls?"
Chris shrugs. There weren't any defining etiquettes in regards to that kind of thing, not that Chris read up on it. He had heard whispers on the wind about ghouls eating ghouls in other countries, other parts of the U.S but he never thought he'd be clumped into the category.
Josh balls up his wrappers, shoving them into the thin cardboard container that used to hold his fries.
"The CCG came by my apartment." Josh tells him, wedging his leg between his body and the edge of the table. "I don't know much about what's going on in this area but.. you should be careful. I think I heard one of them was going to stay in town."
The thought makes Chris feel queasy. This was bad, if the CCG suddenly took interest in Philadelphia because of Chris' recent actions, it meant they were possibly in danger. It also meant Emily was in fact, 100% going to kick his ass.
"You remember their names?"
Josh shakes his head. "I was pretty doped up on pain medication. Sorry, man."
Chris tries not to sigh. "It's fine."
"Oh," Josh shifts in his seat, patting at pockets until he finds what he's looking for. He pulls out Chris' cellphone, screen cracked badly and sets it on the table. Chris straightens, reaching out for it. Josh drops it in his hand.
"I found it. On the sidewalk. I told them it was mine so they wouldn't... Take it."
Chris had forgotten he dropped it, barely spent any time dwelling on the idea of his phone being in the hands of the CCG. It's not like he kept anything personal on it, encrypted photos and passcode locked most of his apps but the idea was still icky to think about.
"Can we go back to your place?"
"Yeah okay." Chris collects Josh's trash, sliding it onto his tray. Josh takes their drinks in one hand, tapping silently on his phone as he trails after Chris to the trashcan.
Josh suddenly grasps Chris' hand tightly, grip tight and hard. Chris glances over at him, eyebrows raised in concern as he sets the tray on top of the trashcan. He follows Josh's line of vision.
There are two men standing at the McDonald's counter, one ordering, dark with a youthful face, as the other nods absently in agreement, deep lines creasing his forehead, skin old and hardened. Both are dressed in white, knee length leather jackets. The older man is holding a silver briefcase, encased in shine and sparkle. It makes Chris nervous, detecting faint hints of blood. Death. A Dove.
Josh's hold is bruising, insistent as he tugs Chris towards another exit. He exhales shakily once they're outside, a wobbly smile in place.
"Fuck, you weren't kidding." Chris manages, heart beating wildly in his chest.
"Y-Yeah." Josh agrees, hand still in Chris'. The exit door opens shortly after, startling Chris. He glances over his shoulder, the older man holding the briefcase standing before them. There's a scar crossing his right eye, old and discolored. Chris' stomach hollows, an itch growing along his waist. The man holds his gaze, oozing with burning hatred. Chris isn't sure if it's directed at him, if he's been found out. He studies Chris closely, reaching out his hand.
There's a balled up five dollar bill in the center, lint wedged into the creases.
"You dropped this." He says roughly.
Chris takes it shakily, nodding his thanks as Josh moves to stand closer to him. The man recognizes Josh, the beginnings of a smile on his face.
"Mr. Washington, fancy that." He says brightly. "Thank you again for helping us with our investigation."
Josh clears his throat. "I-It's fine. It was no problem."
The man smiles, "Take better care of your boyfriend." He tells Chris. "Kid could've been ghoul nip the other night. Investigator Jack Fessenden."
Chris' blood runs cold, every thin strip of news announcement, every warning sign from Predator's Anonymous displayed bright and ugly in front of his eyes. Jack Fessenden, the investigator who took down Makkapitew, the CCG's Hound.
"Chris." He answers tersely, shaking the offered hand.
"Chris... What?" Jack presses, hand still firmly grasping Chris'.
"Stratton." Chris answers hesitantly, running through different last names of kids he knows.
"Nice to meet you. Have a good day." Jack grins, testing the firmness of their shake before sliding his hand into the pocket of his white coat. He tips his head, a jagged smile crossing his face and he heads back inside.
Chris has to remember how to breathe.
"Let's go, Chris." Josh urges, yanking Chris away from the exit door. Chris stumbles after him, trying to analyze and collect his thoughts but he can't seem to place anything beyond get in the car, buckle up, drive home.
Josh sneaks glances at him as he drives, nervous energy rolling off in waves and it only makes Chris more and more jittery.
"You're freaking out."
Josh nods, "You're freaking out so I'm sorry if I can't help but do the same. It's hard to focus."
"I'm sorry." Chris says tensely. "God. This is so bad. He interviewed you?"
"Yeah. Did you know him?"
If Chris did, he'd be dead. His body would be left cut open on a slab and prodded and poked until his cells weren't fast enough to regenerate. The only memory of he'd leave behind is his kagune trapped inside a silver briefcase to be used to cut down others like him.
"Want me to go?" Josh asks, barely above a whisper, meek and soft. "I..I can go, Chris. Walk home."
Chris doesn't know what he wants. He wishes he had some sort of time machine to rewind the past week. None of this would've happened, Josh wouldn't give him his number, Mike would go with him to Etcetera, Chris would cover Jess' shift Thursday and it would be okay. The Doves wouldn't be in Philadelphia, Jack Fessenden wouldn't be in fucking Philadelphia.
But.
Josh would be dead.
Was that a factor? If he never gave Chris his number, would it be a factor? Would Josh still go out that night? Would he be dead?
Josh is staring at Chris, car humming underneath them as Chris stares into the blank wall of his parking garage. He shifts to park, leaning back in his seat. Chris hadn't answered the question, each passing second moving slower and slower.
"I'm sorry this is complicated for you." Josh tells him quietly and it sounds like he means it. The damage was done. Chris couldn't revert time no matter how hard he tried. He sighs, thick and heavy.
"You can stay."
"Alright, Cochise."
The walk upstairs is quiet, elevator ride silent, calm and Josh leans against him as the yellow numbers illuminate. Chris studies the top of Josh's head, oily and deep brown but it still manages to smell like four day old shampoo.
Josh straightens once the elevator doors open, limbs popping as he readjusts his weight. He follows Chris into the hallway, four doors down to Chris' apartment.
"You want to play a game?"
Josh blinks. "Like Saw? 'Cause no. Also no to any simulation anime girls."
Chris almost closes the door in his face, instead he punches Josh lightly in the shoulder, the grimace spreading across the other's face enough for him to know light wasn't light enough.
"Ah, sorry."
"No, you're not." Josh whines, rubbing his shoulder roughly. He jabs a bong finger in Chris' side as he walks by, shrugging off his jacket. Josh folds it over his arm, returning to his previous seat on Chris' windowsill. He's wearing a cardigan underneath, sleeves pulled down over his hands.
Chris closes the door, unzipping his jacket slowly, hyper aware of Josh's lingering gaze. A flurry of sharp knocks startles them both. Chris glances at Josh, whose wincing as his body tenses up.
"Chris! I know you're in there!" Jess shouts from the other side of the front door. "I'd say I smell you but that's weird. Open up, bitch!"
More rapid knocks. Josh's brow furrows, mouth pinching tightly.
"You know Jess?"
"You know Jess?" Chris' head snaps to Josh.
Josh nods shakily. "Y-Yeah."
Chris fights back a groan, forcing himself to answer. He staggers toward the door, prying it open with unnecessary force.
Jess stands on the other side, dress plainly in a pullover and shorts. Her hair is messy, all wrapped up in the loosest, tiniest bun Chris has ever seen. Jess' nose twitches, sniffing once then twice.
"Is Josh here?" She whispers fiercely. "Oh my god, is he... Is he the guy? Is he blackmailing you?"
That thought hadn't even crossed Chris' mind. He glances back at Josh. Josh is staring down at his shoes, fisting his jacket tightly, posture rigid. Chris turns back to Jess, forehead resting against the edge of his door. He shakes his head. Her body deflates.
"Oh thank god. I didn't have a plan for that."
Chris lifts an eyebrow at her. "You expected him to be here?"
"No, Chris, jesus. I'm not psychic." Jess pushes past him into the apartment, a cheerful smile in place. She waltzes into the living room, pointedly keeping as much distance between Josh and her as possible. Chris knocks his head on the door before slamming it closed.
Jess stands near the couch, staring expectantly at him when he comes into her line of vision. Josh looks from Jess to Chris then back to Jess, jaw locking to one side. His left leg bounces nervously, hands flexing and closing. Josh seems jittery, ready to bolt and Jess always seems to pick good times to show up in his life.
"Okay, let's move past this awkward silence," Jess whistles, turning to Josh. "Did you tell anyone?"
Josh shakes his head quickly, glancing back at Chris. "No."
Jess taps her foot impatiently, hands coming to rest on her hips. The air shifts, thick and suffocating and Chris can see red, spidery veins spreading along her cheeks. He's growing increasingly anxious with each passing second. Chris didn't know what Jess would do, if she planned on somehow eradicating this situation because if Jess found the threat big enough she would destroy it, no matter who it was.
Chris places a hand on her shoulder, feeling the ripple of flesh beneath his fingers, a pool of burning warmth pulsing. Jess' head snaps to him, a frown etched deep in her face. She looks scared, teeth clenched tight. Chris understands her panic, the neat little life they've built here possibly crumbling under them.
"He knows, Chris. This isn't a fuck- This isn't a joke. It's us, our lives," Jess bites out. "He could turn you in. All of us, just on the suspicion that we could be ghouls."
"I-I won't." Josh stammers from the window.
Jess snarls at him, the whites of her eyes bleeding black, irises a blotting like fire. Chris steps between them, Josh blocked behind him. His skin aches, tender and sore as his kagune stretches, coming up to curl along Jess' neck. He can hear Josh's shaky inhale.
Chris wasn't going to fight her, Jess could easily destroy him no matter which kagune he used. Her furious gaze nauseates him, searching frantic and wild and Jess grasps the front of Chris' shirt tightly.
"Give me one reason."
"He didn't give me up today. Jack is in town."
Jess blinks, once, then twice. "What?"
"I.. We saw him at McDonald's. He's here. The Hound is here and Josh didn't give me up."
Jess takes her hand away, expression panicked as her eyes recede back to their usual color. She tries to speak, words forming and dying. Chris steps back, nearly sighing in relief. His kagune retracts, easier this time around.
"Fuck. Fuck, Chris." Jess reaches up to snatch out her hair band. Messy waves tumble down her shoulders, bits of static causing thin hairs to stay risen. "This is bad."
"Yeah." Chris agrees.
Jess runs a hand over her face. "Jesus."
"Um.. Should.. Should I go?" Josh asks hesitantly.
Chris glances back at him, Josh already on his feet, hand curled around the window. He turns back to Jess, who seems calmer, face painfully neutral. She places a hand on Chris' shoulder and pats it gently.
"I trust you." Jess tells him. "But the minute, the fucking minute you don't come home or he so much as whispers in the CCGs direction. I will kill him."
Chris believes her, nodding his head. There's a wedge in between his ribs, throat clogged with a hardened brick of saliva and feelings. Jess moves around Chris, an apologetic smile on her face.
"This is embarrassing. I, like Christopher, am a man eating scum bag, please continue to be nice to me in Critical Theory." Jess says pleasantly, tying her hair back up.
"I'm not a scum bag." Chris defends weakly.
Jess glares at him, "You're in deep shit, mister. You ate a ghoul? Really? Are you insane?"
Chris opens his mouth to speak, words dying after every thought. His jaw clicks shut.
"Can we not do this? Please? Tomorrow?"
"Ooh honey, I swear all my conversation rain checks are just for you." Jess sighs, bun bouncing with the quick shake of her head. "You finally going to have that date?"
"God." Chris mutters.
"I only prefer that response if I'm in between Emily's legs but I'll take it." Jess smiles at Josh. "Two seconds and I'll leave. Josh, you look like you're about to throw up."
"I might." Josh replies easily.
"Please don't." Chris cringes, stomach flopping at the idea.
"You can eat people but not look at vomit. Hilarious." Josh giggles, paling considerably.
"He can't even do that right." Jess counters. Chris bristles, a hand folded over his chest, feeling offended and irritated by her comment. Jess shrugs nonchalantly, focusing her attention back on Josh. She plops down on the couch, gesturing for Chris to join her.
Chris doesn't.
"Chris, relax. You've convinced me." Jess smiles warmly. "I don't bite, honey pot."
Josh relaxes a bit once Chris sits beside Jess, leg still bouncing. He coughs into his hand, clearing his throat and strains to keep composed.
"How have I lived so long?" Josh jokes weakly.
"You're a pretty cute guy so there's that." Jess points out. "Although some people have a preference for cutie pies."
"Jessica, please." Chris huffs.
"Just sayin'. What were you guys doing? Figuring out how to have a successful ghoul-human relationship? Kagunes are not for fucking."
Chris chokes. Josh actually laughs, shoulders shaking as he tosses his head back, a high trilling laugh escaping his lips. It's strange sound considering how low Josh's voice goes but Chris finds himself smiling. Jess notices, smirking. She winks dramatically.
"We were going to play video games." Josh tells her.
"Talk about boring." Jess comments. "Listen, Joshua, I'm sure you understand what kind of predicament Chris has managed to get himself into."
Josh nods, uneasy.
"I don't need to tell you what will happen if something happens, right?"
Another nod.
"I don't want to be.. that guy. Or girl, whatever. But we've managed to outlast most of our friends from high school so I'm a bit.." Jess shrugs, "tense. I like you, I like your writing and your general personality but this is my family."
"Yeah. I get it." Josh says quietly.
"I'm glad you didn't get eaten." Jess adds after a moment.
Josh laughs, "Yeah, me too." He looks at Chris when he says it.
"Alright boys," Jess uses Chris' knee to lift herself up. "I'm going to go see my girlfriend at work. FYI, Christopher, she will be by later and she will be pissed so.. Warning?"
Chris groans. "Yeah okay."
Jess walks over to Josh, ruffling his hair fondly and kissing his forehead. Josh blushes, shrinking a bit into himself. Jess smacks Chris upside the head as she goes, winking again and she's gone, the sound of the door closing echoing.
Josh breathes. "Fuck. She's terrifying."
"Yeah." Chris agrees.
"Guess I got to see your thing after all." Josh grins cheekily.
"Shut up." Chris smiles. "She could've kicked my ass."
"Does she have the same kind?"
Chris shakes his head. "Hers come from here," he taps his shoulder blade. "Wings. Somethin' like that."
"Your apartment isn't that big. She can't fly around."
Chris wants to remind Josh that he's never seen Jess fight, never seen her in close quarters where she feels trapped. It's like bees in a jar once you've shaken it up and opened the lid.
Josh lifts up from his seat, hobbling over to Chris. He presses down on the other's thigh, sinking into the empty space with a sharp inhale. Chris clicks on his tv, placing a controller in Josh's lap.
He doesn't feel like getting up to change the game to something co-op, so they take turns on Soma, Josh increasingly not doing well when it comes to hiding. He bitches the game out each time he dies, Chris laughing from beside him.
"Will you walk me home?" Josh asks tiredly, maneuvering through a dark bunker. A soft shuffling comes from around the corner, Josh stumbling right into one of the glowing eyed creatures. He dies. Josh curses. Chris laughs.
"Yeah, man. Or I can drive you." Chris suggests.
"I like walking." Josh tells him. "You're a nice dude, Cochise."
"Not that nice."
Josh steals one of Chris' jackets, fingers barely poking out from the sleeves, chin disappearing into soft brown fur. He stands silently at the door, eyes closed, expression soft. Chris almost thinks he's fallen asleep but Josh peers up at him when he walks closer.
"You look like you're about to fall over."
"'m tired, bro." Josh slurs, yawning widely. He wiggles his hand out of the jacket sleeve, hooking two fingers around Chris' index finger. Chris doesn't say anything, Josh doesn't either but they walk close together, the silence drifting between them easy, pleasant.
Matt's apartment isn't far from Chris', two blocks, across from an old copier company. Chris doesn't go inside but he walks Josh to the front door, index finger still hooked around Josh's two. Josh gestures to the jacket.
"Can I borrow this?"
Chris nods.
"Cool." Josh bites his bottom lip. "I have class tomorrow but.. This weekend. There's this film festival downtown. I don't know, it's kinda lame but if you wanted..."
"Yeah, we could do that."
Josh smiles at that. "Oh sweet. Awesome. I'll swing by?"
"Sure. I'll clean up all the bones in my bedroom beforehand."
"Nice." Josh smirks. He squeezes Chris' finger. "I'll see you."
"Yeah. Tell Matt I'll see him tomorrow."
"Aye aye captain." Josh salutes, heading up the stairs. He glances back at Chris, waving briefly before disappearing around a corner.
Chris waits a beat, staring at the empty space Josh occupied. He listens, footsteps pounding up the stairs, down a hallway, Matt's familiar voice when the door opens. Chris takes a step back, then another, hands in his pockets. He pauses, sniffing the air when an unfamiliar smell whips past him.
It's a ghoul, but it's different, the soft smell of human lingering underneath. Chris' nose wrinkles, trying to decipher between which is which. It doesn't smell like a human dying, doesn't smell like a human walking with a ghoul, it's melded together.
Chris glances around, sidewalks devoid of people. A streetlight flickers. He looks up.
There's someone standing on the apartment building beside Matt's, fluttering thin wings, sparkles of blackened coal against the setting sky.
Ukaku, classification: shoulder; feather.
Chris can't tell who it is or what, body encased in a tattered shroud but they notice Chris staring. They only have one ukaku, opposed to two like usual. It reminds Chris of the ripped wing of a butterfly.
"Oh you're still out here?" Josh's voice startles him, enough for Chris to yelp, head snapping in his direction. Josh is standing on the top step, in the same tattered tank top he wore to Chris' apartment but there's no jacket to cover the bruises on his arms, finger shaped, tiny cuts exposed in the night air.
"Why are you out here?" Chris asks.
Josh shrugs. "It feels nice."
Chris glances back up at the apartment building roof. The person is gone.
"Wanna sit with me?"
Chris nods.