#back on my sam witwer nonsense tbh

[joanofsnarrrk]

Fic: it's weird, but it's ours (Being Human US) - Chapter 1

SUMMARY: A ghost, a werewolf, and a vampire walk into a house, and—have you heard this one before? They walk into a house—well, no, technically, they walk into a very close, very enabling, borderline co-dependent, group dynamic. Otherwise known as a family. But you know what they say about family: can't live with 'em, can't kill 'em because there aren't any readily accessible iron pokers, silver bullets, or wooden stakes on hand. Which is a good thing because the last thing they need on their hands is suspicion of murder when the neighbors already think the werewolf and the vampire are a couple. But the werewolf and the ghost? They're not sure what their dynamic is. They just know that it absolutely, 100% does not involve Feelings of any kind. ... Probably.

In typical fashion, I finally got around to watching Being Human (US) only a decade-ish after it aired and loved it. My toxic trait, though, is that if a dynamic is contentious, with even a hint of perceivable flirt-to-roast ratio, I will ship it. Which is how this Josh/Sally monstrosity came to be. I am nothing if not Fake Dating/Enemies to Lovers/Found Family trope trash.

Can also be found on AO3.

—————

It only takes about a week after they've moved into their house (Sally's house? They really haven't landed on that one yet) before the full neighborhood welcoming committee arrives on their stoop.

Josh isn't actually home to witness this. No, he finds out when he walks in the door after pulling two doubles and sees their living room filled with people. He barely has a moment to stash his backpack, let alone change out of his scrubs, before an older woman with a perm and a bad dye job corners him and starts talking his ear off.

The extra guests come bearing food, which is the only reason Josh doesn't kill (stake?) Aidan for not texting him a heads up. He uses his height to his advantage to scan the room until he finds Aidan... talking with two attractive girls (because of course he is). Josh tries to subtly signal to him, but Aidan either doesn't see him or is straight up ignoring him—honestly, either option seems in character at this point.

"You know," Perm/Bad Dye Job says to him, her voice filled with pride, "my grandson is gay."

"Uh-huh." Josh, admittedly, isn't listening. He's too busy trying to figure out how to get past the throng of people blocking him from where all the food is. Subsisting on NutriGrain bars and Red Bulls for the last few days has him ravenously hungry.

He politely excuses himself and fights his way over to the table. Just as he finishes piling a plate high with buffalo chicken dip and some kind of vegan chocolate chip cookies (among other things), the older woman is back at his side.

"He's Jewish, too," she tells him. Off his confused look, she adds, "My grandson."

"Ah." Josh isn't really sure what to do with this information, so he shovels some food into his mouth.

"He brought home a nice boy for Seder last year," she continues, oblivious. "He's a third-year law student at BU. And so handsome!"

She winks at him after this proclamation, and now Josh really has no clue what to do with this incredibly weird info dump. Like, good for him—Josh is obviously supportive—but he (Josh, not the grandson) doesn't know why he's being looped in on any of it.

He settles for giving Perm/Bad Dye Job what he hopes is a normal smile (but is likely the one Emily has said makes him look completely unhinged) and a nervous laugh.

Thankfully, he's saved from further embarrassment when Aidan (finally) approaches them, a young but otherwise unremarkable man and woman in tow. He glances at Josh briefly before directing his attention (and full charm offensive) to Perm/Bad Dye Job. "Excuse me, Mrs. Rosenberg—"

She tsks at him playfully. "Now, Aidan, what did I tell you?"

Aidan looks at the ground bashfully, then flashes her a bright (not completely unhinged) smile. "Aw, gee. You're right," he says. Like, he actually says 'gee,' as if he's straight out of an episode of Lassie. "Martha. Sorry. I'll get it next time. Promise."

Perm/Bad Dye Job—sorry, Martha—giggles. Giggles. Josh thinks it demonstrates phenomenal self-restraint that he doesn't roll his eyes (so hard they fall out of his head) at both of them.

"Now, if you'll excuse me a moment, Martha—" He makes a point of emphasizing her name, which she predictably eats right up before he turns back to Josh. Aidan slings an arm around his shoulders, which is... well, it's a little out of left field because Aidan's not a super touchy guy to begin with.

Josh idly wonders if he's drunk—he once had a roommate in college who got kind of handsy with everyone when he drank too much—before it occurs to him that he doesn't actually know if Aidan can get drunk. He's seen him drink, but... has he ever been drunk? Can vampires get drunk?

"Josh," Aidan's decidedly not drunk voice pulls him back to the present, "I want you to meet the Hendersons. This is Nate and his wife, Amanda. They're in the brownstone at the end of the block."

They exchange greetings and make small talk. Josh learns that they're both originally from Pennsylvania, but met at BC (her sophomore, his junior year) before moving to Boston permanently just after their wedding.

After some time, Nate shakes Josh's hand. "It's nice meeting you, Josh. And good seeing you, Martha. So sorry to interrupt."

"Oh, you didn't," Josh insists at the same time Martha informs them, "I was just telling him about Elijah."

Elijah? It takes Josh a minute to realize Elijah must be her gay, Jewish grandson.

"Uh, yeah," he stutters, desperate to somehow convey he wants no part in getting roped into talking with her, "but we—"

"Oh, right!" Amanda reaches out and touches his arm in a familiar, almost intimate way. Panicked, Josh eyes Nate, but Nate doesn't seem to think anything is out of line. "I think you both will like it here. The neighborhood is very accepting. Of everyone."

Josh is about to—who knows? Puff his chest out, establish his dominance? Something to prove to Nate that he's definitely—well, n-not an actual, but at least a potential—romantic threat. Except that Aidan pulls him closer to his side and resolutely refuses to meet his gaze.

"Aidan, what—?"

"Plus, it's great having another young couple on the block," Nate adds, to enthusiastic nods from Amanda.

Josh freezes. Suddenly, everything clicks: Martha's grandson info dump, the neighborhood being "accepting," Aidan's arm around his shoulder.

"Will you—will you excuse us?" Josh blurts, contorting out from under Aidan's grasp. "I have to talk to my roo... my, uh—Aidan. I have to talk to Aidan. Alone. In the kitchen."

Aidan's smile falters only slightly. "Greg, Amanda. Martha. Nice talking with y—"

"Aidan."

The moment the three of them disperse to mingle elsewhere, Josh wastes no time making his escape, Aidan close on his (metaphorical) tail.

"Listen, Josh—"

Josh turns on him as soon as they both step into the kitchen. "Why do—" He stops short, aware of a few guests standing too close for comfort. He grabs Aidan's arm and yanks him over to the corner, near the microwave. "Why do they think we're a couple?"

For some reason, Aidan looks visibly relieved by Josh's reaction rather than literally any other emotion that should be there. "I didn't say anything. Everyone just... assumed? Danny must have talked to a few of 'em."

"And you didn't think to correct them?"

"I was going to," Aidan concedes, "but listen—Listen! This could be a good thing."

Josh wants to scream. "Good for who?" He pauses, angrily considering. "Whom—? Never mind, I don't give a shit—good for who exactly, Aidan?"

"Good for us," he insists. Off Josh's incredulous look, he presses, "Think about—Josh, just think about it for a second. Two straight, single guys who live together, spend a lot of time together? That begs a lotta questions. But if we're a couple? No one bats an eye."

Josh opens his mouth to respond, then shuts it. Aidan's... not wrong. God, he hates that Aidan's not wrong. Still— "You... have a point. But why not just tell them we're brothers?"

Sally materializes right next to them, making herself comfortable on what little counter space they have. Josh jumps, still not used to her living (dying-then-residing-in-another-plane-of-existence... ing?) in the house yet.

She snorts. "Please." She gestures at Aidan, Vanna White-ing him. "Look at him! His face is all chiseled, like Mount Rushmore, or... or Handsome Squidward—"

Aidan frowns. "Handsome... what?"

"—No one's gonna believe he's related to you."

You meaning Josh, who apparently is so hideously deformed, he couldn't possibly live up to the god-like, Edward Cullen plane of physical beauty on which Aidan exists. (Though he will—grudgingly— give her points for Handsome Squidward because... now he can't unsee it).

He fixes what he hopes is his most pissed off look at Sally. "Oh, but they'll believe we're dating?"

She shrugs. "Sure. People date down all the time."

Josh can feel his face flush, equal parts humiliated and angry. Aidan cuts him off before he can say anything and comes to stand between both of them. "Hey, c'mon now."

The same two attractive girls from earlier are glancing curiously in their direction. Aidan takes hold of his (Josh's) hand and waves with his other one. For good measure, he flashes the girls the kind of smile Josh is sure belongs to someone who never had a two-year sex drought in over two centuries.

"If-If anything, I would be dating up," Aidan assures Sally, absent any sarcasm but still tonally a mix between hostage negotiator and children's TV show host. "I mean, Josh is a doctor—"

"Didn't go to med school." Why is Josh correcting him?

"—Right, uh, Josh could have been a doctor—"

From over Aidan's shoulder, Josh sees the attractive girls exchange an 'awww!' before they waggle their fingers and head back into the living room.

"—He's great with his sister, he... owns more than one sweater vest, and—And!" Aidan continues, clearly scrambling toward the end. "He's seen every episode of Nova."

"Yeah, okay—" When the coast is clear, Josh wrenches his hand out of Aidan's. "Stop patronizing me. Let's say we do this. What happens when I want to bring a girl back to the house—" Even in his periphery, he can see Sally grin, a retort clearly at the ready. He jabs a finger in her direction. "Don't. Aidan, what happens when one of us wants to bring a girl back, huh? What then?"

Aidan thinks about that for a moment... then shrugs. Josh groans. "I—Look, I don't know. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Aidan assures him. He looks over at Sally, who nods in agreement even though she's definitely not a part of this whole thing.

Josh takes a moment to think about it, to imagine any outlying repercussions they're not considering. Or, at least, to decide if the symptoms are worth taking the prescribed medication (so to speak). When he comes up blank, he blurts, "Fine. But I'm—we're not kissing."

"I—" Aidan breaks off, starts laughing. "I wasn't planning on it. Figured we'd stick to holding hands, or—Wait, were you?"

"No!" This is truly the weirdest conversation Josh has ever had. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Look, if anyone asks—"

"Eww," Sally contributes, completely ignoring him. "Why would they? Do you normally ask couples why they're not all over each other in public?"

"—If anyone gets suspicious," Josh amends, "we'll just..."

"Tell 'em we're not big into PDA," Aidan finishes.

Josh snaps his fingers. "Yes, exactly—that we, uh... we like to keep our private life private. At home."

"Hot." Sally fans herself. "Aidan and Josh sitting in a tree, keeping their private life private. K-I—"

"—L-L-I-N-G Sally again if she doesn't stop talking," Josh says through gritted teeth.

"Dude," Aidan bites out reproachfully at the same time Sally lets out a surprised gasp. 

Josh feels his neck grow warm, like he's ten-years-old, back in Ithaca at JDS, and the instructor just caught him copying somebody else's work. Only, a lot worse.

"Yup, heard it as soon as I said it. Sally, I'm sorry." To his surprise, he actually means it. Even more surprising, when she gives him a small nod in acknowledgment, he feels... relieved. 

Aidan considers both of them before looking out at the rest of the party. They've attracted a greater number of curious bystanders, none of whom are being very subtle."So," Aidan directs to Josh somewhat urgently, "what d'ya think? Are you in?"

"Yeah, seriously. You guys have been over here so long, everyone's going to think you're being super rude," Sally admonishes. She considers. "Or that you left to go hook up."

Josh can't take it anymore. He may regret this, but— "Okay, okay. Fine. Yes. I'm in."

Aidan claps him on the back and grins. He's a really good friend, Josh thinks. He's hard pressed to think of any other friend who would agree to move in with him and then fake date him in order to keep his werewolf transformations a secret. Before he can continue that train of thought, something occurs to him.

"Wait a minute," he protests as Aidan guides him back into the fray of the party. "Can we go back to the part where, apparently, one of my only three endearing qualities is that I own two sweater vests?"

Sally cackles behind them.

—

Three days exactly after Tony the sleazy 80s glam rock ghost—the one who taught Sally how to move from room to room just by thinking about it? Yeah, three days exactly after that guy (ghost?) walks through his door and disappears forever, there's an... incident.

Or, at least, that's what Aidan is calling it. But whatever. He wasn't there at the time of the... incident (ughhh), so he really shouldn't get to have a say. In Josh's completely unbiased opinion.

Anyway, it happens like this:

After three back-to-back Ripley's Believe It or Not reruns, Sally calls it. She's officially bored. Bored! With a capital "B."

Unwittingly, her thoughts drift to Danny (as they always do), and she feels—well, not really feels, since she can't feel anything anymore—the familiar ache in her chest. The one that spurs on desolate thoughts of what they had, what they could have been, and how her death was an unfairly finite end to all of it.

So, she tries (really, she does) to focus on something—literally anything—else. It works for a little while. She recalls almost turning the page in one of Aidan's massive, dusty books yesterday. (It was literally filled with old Red Sox rosters and various batting lineup statistics from the 1920s, as well as an excruciatingly dull analysis of how those were affected in 1912 when the team moved from the Huntington Avenue Grounds to Fenway).

Anyway, she knows for a fact that the book page fluttered. But maybe... she realizes it was probably the breeze coming in from the kitchen window. The one Josh forgot to close earlier.

Thinking about all of this reminds her that not only is she dead, but also that she's kind of sucking at this whole ghost thing. Two incredibly depressing thoughts to have, honestly. So, she switches gears and tries to recall how Tony taught her to move from room to room. It was supposed to work just like apparating in Harry Potter, right? Just visualize where you want to go, and poof, you're there?

She closes her eyes and pictures the kitchen, with the table and the sink full of dishes (seriously, only one of them eats—how are there so many?) and one of Aidan's used blood bags—wait, now she's just making a cleaning-to-do list. She starts at the beginning, clearing her mind, only thinking about Tony's instructions.

Let's see, he first appeared in their shower, and—ugh, she remembers thinking about how majestically gross his mullet was. Plus, with the way the light reflected off the porcelain tub, it looked like he had a halo, and—

"Oh, my God—Sally?!"

She startles, eyes flashing open, only to find herself practically face to face with Josh, who's standing under a torrent of shower spray, and, oh yeah—is completely naked.

"What are you doing in here?" he demands, horrified.

Sally is frozen to the spot. She tries to jam her eyes shut, just as he abruptly covers himself, but it's too late. She's literally seen too much. "I wasn't—I didn't come in here on purpose!"

"Well, could you get out of here on purpose?"

"Yeah. I-I mean, yes, I'm trying, but it's not—" She keeps trying to picture the wide, open space of the living room, but all she can think on repeat is Josh is naked, Josh is in the shower, and he is naked. So, naturally, she starts rambling. "—it's not an exact science! But, hey! On the plus side, I barely saw anything. I-I can't even fully verify that you're circumcised—"

"Oh, my God," Josh says again, accompanied by some kind of strangled noise. "Get. Out."

He reaches through her and shuts off the water. Or, so she assumes. Her eyes are still jammed shut. But when she hears the shower rings grate against the rod and the curtain whoosh, her suspicions are confirmed.

"Okay, but this—" She peeps to see if the coast is clear but is met by Josh's backside instead. He hastily wraps a towel around his waist just as she jams her eyes shut again. "It could be so much worse, Josh—"

"How?" he demands, voice cracking. He clears his throat. "How could this possibly be worse?"

She's not prepared for his response, especially because her efforts to physically remove herself from the room keep getting derailed by the thought that he's kind of shredded for a super nerd. So, naturally, she's absolutely not thinking when she blurts, "Well, that shower is not big, so good thing I'm transparent. 'Cuz otherwise... awkward—"

"ROOMMATE MEETING. NOW!" he bellows before she hears him storm down the hall.

—————

The living room is still blissfully empty when Sally arrives (the normal way, not telepathically because of course it wouldn't work on command when she really, really needed it to). She takes a moment to prepare herself, or to brace for whatever Josh will say to—well, let's be real here, yell at—them at this meeting.

Aidan comes down the stairs, yawning. He's mid-stomach scratch when she looks over at him, but her eyes are drawn to the sliver of skin above the waistband of his scrubs, now visible thanks to the whole scratching thing.

"Hey," he says when he sees her. He takes a seat on the couch next to her. "Any idea what this is about?"

Up close, she can see his scrubs are rumpled and his hair is sticking up at a lot of weird angles, like he just woke up from a nap. Which he probably did (she overheard him and Josh last week talking about there being a staff shortage at the hospital, probably because of all the vampire turnings, but whatever—they didn't ask her). Rather than looking disheveled, though, Aidan just looks hot... ter.

Before Danny came into the picture (she'll remember to feel guilty later for even considering such a scenario later), this would have been the ideal scenario: living with two hot guys—well, one hot guy and one passably good-looking guy—going out to bars, having parties, etc. But rather than being able to enjoy any of the possible benefits that could come from such an arrangement, here she was, stuck being dead.

Aidan is looking at her strangely until she realizes he's waiting for her to respond.

"Oh," she says, trying to shake off that line of thought (because she should absolutely clarify that in this scenario, she's not talking about benefits benefits, especially—God, no, especially not with Josh). "Uh—"

"I'll tell you what this is about," Josh says suddenly, almost as if she summoned him (she didn't... oh, God, did she?). He thunders down the stairs, two at a time, before coming to stand in front of both of them.

He's still not wearing anything—actually, super important correction: he still has his towel wrapped around his waist, he's just not wearing any clothing. But he's definitely avoiding looking at her directly. Which is fine with her because, honestly? Same.

"I believe it was John Locke who first coined the term 'social contract,'" Josh begins.

"Actually," Aidan chimes in, "it was Rousseau. I met the guy once. Such a pompous windbag, but—"

"Whatever. My point is that whenever people—individuals—agree to come together and form a society, they sacrifice certain... entitlements in order to coexist peacefully," Josh further explains. "This—our house—is a type of society. And we live under a social contract that entails respecting each other. Primarily, respecting each other's personal boundaries."

Aidan looks lost. "Um... Okay. Sure." He tries to hide a smirk. "You, uh, you think respecting boundaries might involve wearing pants in the common areas, bud?"

The light coming in from the bay window highlights some interesting contours on Josh's person, including the admittedly decent musculature on his otherwise lean frame. Once again, Sally finds herself involuntarily impressed.

(Seriously, though, she's witnessed him watch a TNG marathon on SyFy for fourteen episodes straight without getting up off the couch once. On multiple occasions. Sooo... how? Was it a werewolf thing? Like, was his metabolism just supernaturally fast? Or did he have a membership to a CrossFit gym that she and Aidan were just totally oblivious to?).

"Josh." Aidan's voice pulls her back to the present. "What the hell is—?"

"I accidentally transported into the shower while Josh was using it," Sally confesses at the same time Josh blurts, "Sally walked in on me while I was in the shower."

She rolls her eyes at him. "I did not walk in on you."

"No, you just materialized in on me," he insists. "Oh, thank—thank you, Sally! That distinction really helps with all—" He frantically gestures in a circle. "—this."

"How many times do I have to tell you?" she demands because honestly? He's being such a drama queen. "I didn't do it on purpose!"

If he wasn't awake before, Aidan is now. He opens his mouth, then snaps it shut before he leans forward and looks at Sally. "Wait, you did it?" he asks her, grinning in a way that makes him look much younger. "You traveled to another room?"

"Not the takeaway!" Josh fumes.

She ignores him and says to Aidan, "I'm still trying to figure it out fully—I couldn't materialize away from the bathroom—but yeah." His enthusiasm is infectious because she can feel a huge smile break out on her face. "I really did it."

"Sally, that's amazing!"

"No. Nuh-uh. Not amazing!"

She turns on Josh. "You're unbelievable! Wasn't the whole point of this—the whole reason you guys brought that sleemo over here—was so I could learn how to leave the house—?"

"—Aidan, this is not amazing!"

"God," Sally says, drawing out the syllable to three, "you are such a killjoy, Josh!"

"W-Wait—Hold on a second." Aidan hops off the couch and comes to stand between both of them. He faces her. "Didn't you tell me Tony said you had to focus on your destination—like really think about it—in order to make it work?"

All three of them fall silent, and it's only then that Sally realizes how close she's standing to Josh. She must have gravitated toward him while they were arguing. But they sure aren't arguing now. No, siree. They're just sort of... standing there, close enough that she swears she can feel his body heat (even though, she can't emphasize this enough: she can't actually feel anything), and looking at each other. But, like, in an intense, sort of charged kind of way? The really cheesy, mostly poorly written romance books Bridgette always swore she never read (but totally did) would have described it as heated. But that right there is exactly the problem.

They both seem to realize what's happening at the same time (more so the implication of Aidan's comment than the whole heated look thing, thank God) because Sally jumps back just as Josh shoves an accusatory finger in her direction.

"You were thinking about me in the shower?"

"What? No! I was thinking about the bathroom—"

"—which I was occupying—!"

"Yeah, but I wasn't—I didn't know you were in there." Then, because it suddenly feels important to defend herself beyond any reasonable doubt, she adds, "Obviously!"

From the corner of her eye, she can see Aidan's mouth gape uselessly as he pieces everything together. She does a double take—yes, an actual double take—when he tries to (poorly) cover the How the Grinch Stole Christmas-level, shit-eating grin that's regrettably taking up residence on his dumb, attractive face.

"Aidan, no."

He throws his hands up. "I didn't say anything," he insists innocently. "But... 'personal boundaries?' Y'know it—well, this all makes sense now."

"No, it doesn't!" Josh tears his gaze from Sally to look at Aidan pleadingly. "Aidan, this should make no sense. I think we should just throw a line of salt—as a precaution—at the entrance to the bathroom—"

Sally throws her hands on her hips. "Oh, real nice, Josh. Let's just imprison the ghost in her own home! Which it is, by the way. This is my home—"

"Was," he says, not exactly in a kind tone. "This was your home, Sally. But now it's ours." He gestures between Aidan and himself. "And we really need you to not be some, some... Peeping Tom, or—"

"Wow, okay, so—'Peeping Tom.' Really? I'm not some deviant! But even if I was—"

"If?"

"Yeah, if, Josh. Even if I was, why would I waste my time trying to catch a glimpse of you hanging dong, or whatever—"

"I—that's not—"

"Okay, okay!" Aidan once again steps in between them. "Look, we're all mature, rational adults—"

He's doing a terrible job of trying not to laugh, though, which is why Josh gives an exasperated, "Dude!" and proceeds to ball tap him. Aidan wheezes, suddenly hunching over against any additional attacks.

Sally rolls her eyes. "Way to be neither of those things, Josh."

"Sally, so help me—"

Aidan holds up his hand against Josh. "New plan," he croaks, voice cracking. Tentatively, he stands to full height, then clears his throat. "If we announce when we're about to take a shower—"

Josh frowns. "So, what? Just yell into the void 'I'm about to get in the shower, so please don't walk in on me—sorry, materialize—in on me?"

"I'd... probably fine tune that one, but yeah, that's the general idea," Aidan says before Sally can snap back at Josh. He addresses her directly when he asks, "If we give you some kind of heads up, can you promise to give the bathroom a wide berth?"

Sally sinks back onto the couch and huffs. "Yes—"

"See?" Aidan nudges Josh. "Look at that, problem solved."

"Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it," Josh grumbles. "Or, I guess don't see Sally—"

"—But I would like the record to show that I did not materialize into the shower while Josh was using it on purpose," Sally makes sure to add. "Somehow, I don't think that point is getting across as clearly as I would like."

"Oh, no," Aidan smirks. He yawns and purposefully makes his way around the couch and up the stairs. "It's very clear. I just... well, I just wonder how the neighbors would react to Josh showering with someone who is definitely not his loyal boyfriend of... two and a half months?"

"Aidan!"

Josh hurdles over the couch, losing his towel in the process, but Aidan is already at the top of the steps. Sally rushes to cover her eyes, but once again does so far too late.

"Oh, my God!" she screeches at the same time Aidan hollers, "Now, I've got a shift in a few hours. Next person who wakes me up, I will not hesitate to bleed dry."

His door resolutely slams shut, leaving Josh and her in its suddenly way too quiet wake. This time, Sally doesn't risk opening her eyes.