Two Birds

(aaah this is the first fic I’m actually not confident in. I got a request form my friend for some BecCal so have some BecCal I suppose. I dunno if I got their personalities but ARGH her ya go I’m going to stop talking now)

You are Becquerel Harley.

You just want to make out a little. You imagine that kissing is actually very nice.

And it’s not your fault the only person who might want to kiss you is kind of weird and annoys you all the time.

-

You are Cal Strider.

You imagine that kissing is actually very nice.

The only person you’d like to kiss would never ever kiss you though.

It’s okay though. You hope he gets the chance to kiss someone he really likes.

Speak of the devil, there he is now!

“HI BEC!!!”

-

You are Becquerel Harley.

Oh perfect.

“what do you want chewtoy.”

You give him the look you specifically reserve for him. The look that screams ‘Go away, just turn around and leave me alone.’

As usual, he ignores it and rushes toward you.

At least he doesn’t touch you, you suppose.

-

You are Cal Strider.

“I JUST WANTED TO TALK TO YOU!!!” you say, “WE NEVER SEEM TO TALK, WHICH IS WEIRD SINCE WE’RE ALL TOGETHER NOW!!! I THOUGHT WE WOULD TALK MORE!!!”

You see the look, but you want to believe he doesn’t really mean it.

He doesn’t mean it, does he?


-

You are Becquerel Harley.

“im really not in the mood cal.

just go away.

please.”

You turn around to walk away, quickening your step a bit when you hear him following.

-

You are Cal Strider.

You follow him quietly. You don’t just leave friends when they’re in a bad mood, no, you quiet down until they’re ready to tell you what’s wrong.

So you follow quietly, although he seems a bit more agitated now that you’re coming along.

-

You are Becquerel Harley.

Why is he still following you? Doesn’t he have something else to do?: Someone else to bother?

“why are you following me?”

-

You are Cal Strider.

What kind of question is that?

“BECAUSE YOU’RE MY FRIEND BEC!!! I WANT TO MAKE SURE YOU’RE OKAY!!! I’LL BE QUIET IF YOU WANT, BUT WHEN YOU’RE READY I WANT TO BE HERE SO YOU CAN TELL ME WHAT’S WRONG!!!”

-

You are Becquerel Harley.

“why do you care?

im only ever mean to you.

and all you do is stick with me and try to help me all the time.

why?”

You’re so confused. He’s so confusing. All you do is push him away but he keeps coming back.

-

You are Cal Strider.

You look down, and suddenly the ground is much more interesting than Bec’s eyes.

Actually that’s a lie. You don’t think anything is more interesting than his eyes, but you don’t want to look at them right now.

“WELL…

YOU ARE KINDA MEAN…

BUT YOU’RE ALSO ONE OF THE NICEST PEOPLE I KNOW!!!”

-

You are Becquerel Harley.

What.

How does that make sense?

“i cant be one of the nicest.”

You’re just an asshole. That’s all. How does he see you as nice?

He gets a really sad look in his eyes and you almost regret saying that.

-

You are Cal Strider.

“YOU ARE THOUGH…

EVERYONE AT SCHOOL WAS MEAN TO ME…

THEY DIDN’T LIKE THAT I WORE MAKEUP AND LONG SHIRTS OR DRESSES…

THEY THOUGHT I WAS WEIRD AND BEAT ME UP ALL THE TIME…

BUT YOU DON’T!!!
SO YOU’RE ONE OF THE NICEST PEOPLE I KNOW!!!”

-

You are Becquerel Harley.

That…

You don’t even know what to say.

The sad look is still in his eyes, even though he smiles at you.

You blame hormones and an overabundance of emotions when you hug him.

-

You are Cal Strider.

Oh my god he’s hugging you.

This is what you saved your non-platonic hugs for. You wrap your arms around him, hugging back.

He’s whispering something but you can’t hear him.

-

You are Becquerel Harley.

Hormones. Sure, hormones. That’s the only thing this is. Hormones.

Hormones is why you hug him close. Hormones is why your chest feels funny when he hugs you back. Hormones is why you whisper that you’re sorry.

Hormones can do that, can’t they?

You’re fairly certain hormones can’t do that.

-

You are Cal Strider.

He backs up bit, and you’re almost sad to see him go.

But he doesn’t leave all the way. He’s still holding you, his face so close. You can’t help yourself.

You kiss him. Right on the lips. Smooch. Just like that.

-

You are Becquerel Harley.

You kiss back. You have no idea what you’re doing anymore.

Actually, you do. You’re kissing Cal. That’s what you’re doing.

His makeup smears a bit on your face, but you don’t care. His hand curls up in your hair and is messing it up now, but you don’t care.

Kissing is actually really nice.

Really, really nice.

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