Chapter Text
“Flux…” He stretches out the ‘u’ in his best friend’s name. Saparata’s voice is forcefully jovial and anyone would sense the undercurrent of guilt.
Fluixon closes his eyes as if Saps can see him from the other side of the phone screen. He inhales deeply before letting out a guttural sigh, but no amount of judgemental respiration could have prepared him for the direction that this conversation was going.
“No.”
“I haven’t even said anything!” Saps whines on the other end of the call.
Flux sighs again, as he seems to always do around his nuisance of a best friend.
“You don’t have to, I’m not getting into another sticky situation because of you.”
He could hear Saps groaning, and he could practically smell his patience wearing thin.
“You seriously suck. All I need is for you to pretend to be my boyfriend for a while and you shut me out immediately!!”
Flux stops in his tracks, dropping his pencil and staring at his phone incredulously. Surely, surely, his best friend wasn’t saying what he thought he was saying. Surely, no one in the heavens would be so cruel to do this to a yearning man.
“What.”
He has to force the word out of his mouth, each sound sticking to his now dry throat in the same way.
“Please, Flux I need this, I’m kinda dateless!!”
Now, Fluixon wasn’t the best person.
Yes, he laughed whenever Cynikka humiliated frat boys when they tried to ask her out, he left Saps out in the cold for at least five minutes before letting him in when he came home wasted, but never in his 20 years of life did he do anything that warranted a punishment like this.
It takes him a lot of self restraint to grit his teeth, swallow his outrage and respond.
“Come home. Now.”
He cuts the call, not waiting for an answer.
Flux doesn’t remember the moment he fell in love with his best friend.
He might’ve always been, since the moment that his high school homeroom teacher first sat him next to the white haired kid with the derpy smile, or since the first time he felt seen by someone other than his stubborn little sister.
Maybe it was when Saparata bought him an absurd amount of chocolate in exchange for tutoring in math. Maybe it was when he got black out drunk at their college welcoming party and wouldn’t let go of Flux no matter how many people tried to pry him off.
He tries not to dwell on it, but it’s difficult when he’s ever consumed with pathetic pining for his best friend slash roommate.
Saparata comes home 15 gruelling minutes later; he finds Flux face down on his desk, cheeks smushed against his architecture coursework.
Saps is flushed from his hasty departure from the library, where he had originally called his best friend from.
Now, he knew that what he was asking of Flux was a lot, even for the two of them who had been inseparable since senior year of high school, but truly he has no choice.
It started as a lovely, chilly autumn afternoon; Saps had bought his overpriced coffee from the cafe near campus, obviously with a discount (thank you, Magic!), and he had a relaxed rest of the day at the library planned, studying with Seraphim and Jophiel (aka watching Sera slowly descend into the madness that is Latin and marvelling at Jophiel’s insane talent in the art of locking in.)
Jophiel had to cancel, unfortunately, because of some trouble with the student board, but Seraphim had shown up with apology cookies from her so Saps didn’t mind.
His first mistake was thinking Sera would ever willingly propose a study date.
Before he knew it, Seraphim was adamant on getting Saps a blind date, and he really couldn’t see any other way out of the situation other than blurting out that he already had someone he was interested in.
His second mistake was not knowing better than to tell Seraphim of all people a lie as big as this one because as soon as he did, she was having a field day.
In his defence, Saps never explicitly brought Fluixon up, that was all Sera getting ahead of herself. But it seemed like a good excuse, great even, so he went along with it.
Seraphim, being the sneaky, snakey big-mouth that she is, had already whipped out her phone to tell Jophiel as Saps pondered the gravity of his little white lie.
He took his chance and bolted to the bathroom, phone in hand, sweating buckets while wondering how to ask his best friend to fake date him (a straight man) to get him out of a lifetime of blind dates.
Presently, strands of hair stick out from Saparata’s collapsing ponytail and while he takes a moment to catch his breath, he focuses on Flux.
Flux is an attractive man, no doubt about it - Thomas mentioned his looks often and Saparata had to agree that it was mildly unfair that the universe blessed him with money, intelligence, and a charming face.
Whether he used his powers for good was a different story entirely.
Currently, he looked so domestic it would send women swooning and men falling to their knees, even Saps as straight as he is, could see the appeal.
His best friend made a bad habit of stealing most of his wardrobe, at the moment donning a simple grey sweatshirt that was already too big for Saps and practically dwarfed Flux. He is by no means a short man, but compared to track and field star Saparata, most men seem to be.
His brows are permanently furrowed, even in sleep, and Saps can’t help but reach out and smooth out the pale, creased skin absentmindedly. He barely flinches when Flux’s swear clad hand clasps his wrist and he cracks an eye open to glare at Saps.
His voice, heady with sleep, makes Saparata crack a gentle smile. “You have some explaining to do, young man”
He instantly stops smiling, Flux looking at him not unlike a stern professor.
“Yes sir, sorry sir!” He mock salutes despite himself, eyes crinkling into half crescents as he laughs at his best friend’s frankly lethal eye roll.
As much as Fluixon wants to roll his eyes and scoff at Saps’ story of why he, a straight man, needs a fake boyfriend, it isn’t absurd to say that this is exactly Seraphim’s flavour of trouble.
She must've been overjoyed, having watched Flux fall over himself time a many when it came to Saps in high school.
Wait.
“..Did you say that you called me while she was busy texting Jophiel..?”
Saps, clueless as ever, just nods along.
“Oh good, you were listening,” He cracks another soft grin, the type that makes Flux want to melt into a puddle or kiss the edges of his upturned lips, “I really couldn’t tell, you were kinda… Oh my god. She told Jophiel.”
Flux watches in live time as realisation dawns on his face, panic making his eyes twice the size and twisting his soft lips into a grimace.
Jophiel, despite her perfect grades and flawless devotion to education, is possibly a sneakier, snakier and even bigger mouth than Seraphim.
If Jophiel knows something, it isn’t long before half of greek row does too.
Saps lunges for Flux’s phone, which is placed neatly between his architecture coursework and his pencil case. In his desperation, he topples the pencil case and half of the contents spills out onto the floor.
“Fluxxxuuuhh! Hurry up and open your phone so we can check the damage!!” He whines, uncaring for Fluixon’s pained sigh at his mess. He claws onto his best friend’s shoulder and shoves the phone in his face, trying to unlock it with face ID.
“I turned my phone off, moron! We need to check yours, you’re friends with, like, every fraternity ever!”
Flux speaks faster when stressed, like most people do, but he also speaks with less control, making his Kiwi accent that much more detectable. Despite their situation, Saps lets out a chuckle before locking in to hastily dig through his messenger bag and retrieve his phone.
“Why don’t you keep your phone in your pocket, like a normal person?” Flux doesn’t usually whine, but desperate men do desperate things.
At last, Saps fishes his phone out. He turns it on. And behold.
The two men stare at the screen in despair, reading the notification summary.
31 unread messages.
“Gulp.”
“Stop saying the sound effects instead of just making them.”
“It felt appropriate!”
“…It was.”