#shhhh [i just wanted to play them as a were and in a polyam -- and i get to here]

[grapecaseschoices]

Thank you Dakota for yet another beautiful commission!! This still fucks me up whenever I read it, whew.

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Kendis is mine. Rei and Kendall are Dakota's characters from their IF @theunseelieif

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“Babes, I don’t know all that much about cooking,” Rei calls from where she’s slouched over on the kitchen table, “But I’m pretty sure cake batter doesn’t need to be whisked into oblivion.”

“Shut up,” Kendall interrupts her with a sharp hiss.

You resolutely ignore both of them, staring down at the mixing bowl below you. You’d like it if you had a one-track mind right about now, if you could wholly focus on this task and nothing else, but you’re not so lucky. The doubts creep in from all angles, and you wonder if you could have done something different.

Perhaps something that wouldn’t have left you with another scar, something that wouldn’t leave you with blood beneath your nails that you can never get out. No matter how hard you scrub, your hands are still stained with it-

“Kendis?”

The word is quiet, hushed, spoken into the vacuum that your thoughts have created. You look up to see Kendall hovering next to you, brows furrowed and hands twitching from holding back.

“Yeah?” You ask, your nonchalance bordering on desperation.

His eyes drop to the already-healed wound on your shoulder. His is still bleeding sluggishly through the bandage wrapped around his shoulder and upper arm. You wonder, briefly, what kind of freak heals faster than a werewolf.

You, apparently.

He doesn’t ask if you’re okay, instead reaching his hand out in a silent offer. You see the way his fingers tremble; it’s not easy for him, either. Neither of you express affection like Rei, with her easy touches and gentle hands.

Your nod is stiff, and his hand rests on the small of your back with painful devotion. Rei has come over as well, leaning against the counter and tilting her head to see your face.

“The cake won’t bake itself,” You insist, forcing a sort of positivity you don’t really feel into the words.

But it’s fine. It’s fine. You’ll make it fine.

Because if you show your emotions now, what lies beneath the veneer, you won’t be able to stuff it all back in. Your guts will spill all over the floor, bloody and messy and raw, and you’re not sure you’ll be able to stitch yourself up yet again.

“And my hand won’t hold itself either,” Rei pouts slightly.

Kendall sighs, “Please, for five seconds-”

“No! I saw a bit of a smile, so shut up and let me work!” She leans across you to shove a hand in Kendall’s face.

He bats her away with minimal annoyance, too used to her antics to be anything other than fond.

You can’t help the laughter that spills over, and Rei’s smile is so bright and pleased it feels like you’ve been punched in the chest.

“Let me finish this,” You say, “And then-”

And then. Then what? Then you’ll lay on the couch while the oven timer ticks down slowly, holding two of the people you love most with blood-soaked hands?

“Fine,” Rei sighs gustily, “We’re waiting, though!”

She drags Kendall off to the living room, and he goes without complaint. You realize that, yes, you are going to hold them. Carefully, so as to not leave claw marks in something so precious, but you will hold them. You will. But something still makes you pause in the doorway, watching them for a moment before you enter.

The way Rei practically lays on top of Kendall, blabbering on about something that happened two weeks ago that she’s told you both about four times already. Kendall listens all over again as if he’s never heard the words, though, nodding as he strokes a hand up and down her back.

You take a step forward and pause. They’ve heard you, though, and they’re both looking up with hopeful eyes. So you force your feet to move again, one foot after the other before you carefully sink down to join them.

There’s a bit of shuffling as legs tangle together and bodies shift. Kendall is half on top of you, and your head is pressed against his shoulder while Rei remains comfortably situated on his chest. Your eyes feel heavy, but you stubbornly keep them open, both so the cake doesn’t burn and so you don’t miss a moment of this encompassing warmth.