#i keep writing these dang things on my lunch break dskjfhksjdfh

[tunastime]

hiii tuna :3c how about your number 2 song for the drabbles?

hiiiiii ghost :3c here's 2! I really liked this song earlier in the year and its always reminded me of ranchers, and I'd be lying if I had flubbed a song to be number two because I listened to this song way too much. hehe anywayy ranchers <3 forgive my mobile formatting also!

(630 words)

"There oughta be a name for people like us," Jimmy says, slim fingers tracing out the bones in Tango's wrist.

"There is," Tango says. "Doomed."

Jimmy laughs—he can't help it. Tango snorts. He sets his hand on his abdomen, drumming against it.

"You're laughing at me."

Jimmy squeezes his wrist. His freckled skin is so much warmer than Jimmy's, especially in the cool, damp night. He briefly wonders if the temperature difference bothers Tango. But he makes no move away from him. He looks over at him as he winds his fingers around it, trying to catch the flicker of his pupiless eyes in the light of lanterns and the moon. Tango's hands are rough with use, but not as rough as they could be. He's not wearing his gloves today. Maybe he trusts himself not to scald his soulmate.

"Not at you," Jimmy says. "That would be so mean!"

Tango hums, unconvinced. His eyebrows raise and he finally tips his head to look at Jimmy. It's a nice face, Jimmy thinks. Well—it's a normal face, and there are nice things about it, like his smile, and the way his freckles show when he's embarrassed or excited, and the twitch of his ears when something's upset him. It's just a nice face and a very kind personality, despite what people said about being volatile and flighty and nervous and bitter. Tango was all of those things, but Jimmy was, too. Did they forget so soon that he could hold matches too?

"What, then?" Tango asks, snapping him to attention. Right. Enough about Tango. Well. Everything about Tango. He was going to kick himself later, wasn't he? Because this was all right place wrong time, and he'd never really get to know Tango like he wanted, beyond this. He runs the pad of his thumb over the raised bone in Tango's wrist and threads their fingers together. Tango shimmies his fingers to get comfortable.

"I thought it was funny when you said doomed," Jimmy eventually says, finally swallowing down the rush of want that bubbled up in his throat. Could it be so bad to want this? To want to sleep in the grass next to the warm shape Tango made? But Tango was being nice. Jimmy forgets when he laid down. Tango was out here first, staring at the sky.

"Normally, people call me names," Jimmy finishes, laughs, scrunching up his face. Tango snorts and laughs and squeezes Jimmy's hand. Oh, that's nice. "But I guess you're right, though, with doomed. I was thinking something else, but that's good."

Tango's wheezy laugh peters out as he sighs, shaking his head in the grass.

"What were you thinking?"

"Mm..." Jimmy sighs through his nose. "I'm like a dead man walking. Always felt like it."

Tango huffs. Jimmy glances over to see him shut his eyes.

"Yeah. Yeah, me too."

There's a beat of silence as they lie together, looking up at the sky. Jimmy tries to map the patterns of the stars to any known shape, fails, and huffs. Tango squeezes his hand.

"You wanna get inside?" He says. "You look cold."

Jimmy nods.

"Are you comin'?" He asks. Tango blinks, shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh..." he says. "Sure. I'll come with you."

Jimmy hauls himself up, brushing dirt from the back of his thighs and ruffling his hair. Tango stands after a beat, tail swishing behind him. He reaches out, picking a stray leaf off Jimmy's shoulder, grinning toothily at him. Jimmy meets that smile with one lopsided and wide and he can't shake the feeling of something being right. Jimmy holds out his hand for him and Tango takes it, knocking into him as they press together against the cold.

They walk inside. Tango doesn't let go of his hand.

(spotify wrapped ask meme)