#there is more it is sad and also wildly self indulgent and unfinished

[thebluestbluewords]

Just A Taste

Jay & Mal, (ambiguous relationship but in my heart they’re two parts of an ot4) vaguely future-based anxiety +

“Maybe I don’t wanna be more than this,” Jay says, watching his own hands move on the countertop. “I’ve got you guys. We’ve got a place together. Evie wouldn’t want to stop making enough money for us to live on even if we tried to make her. Maybe this is all I’m supposed to do.” 

“Maybe you’re being an angsty little bitch about nothing,” Mal says, reaching over the gorgeous stone counter to smack him with a flour-covered hand. “You’re gonna go out and be amazing, and we’re gonna go watch you do whatever sportsball shit you do every weekend, and there’s nothing we can do to stop you achieving your fuckin’ destiny as like, the coolest person ever to go to Sherwood U.” 

“Ow.” Jay complains, shaking the flour off his head. “Hey.” 

Mal rolls her eyes. “Don’t be a baby,” she commands, and even here in their fully stocked kitchen, in the house that Evie bought for them with the money she earned legally from being fuckin’ amazing at her job, there’s Isle in her voice. “You’re going to go, and it’s gonna be fine, and we’ll come up and be annoying whenever you want us to, and I’ll show up every single weekend until you’re begging me to leave you alone.” 

Jay hates being alone. He’s bad at it. He gets into trouble, and not even cool, story-worthy trouble when he’s left alone for too long. The last time he was alone for more than a weekend, he tried to start a cult just to see how many Auradon kids would give him money for it. The answer was shockingly low, considering the number of gullible teenagers in his target audience. 

College, apparently, is going to be better than that. “Gonna sneak in and hide in my closet again?” 

Mal grins. “Maybe. Yeah.” 

“They’re giving me a roommate, y’know. He might not be down with visitors every weekend.” 

Mal scoffs. “You’re not escaping us. You can’t, legally. I actually signed a contract with your hand while you were asleep, so there’s a legally binding agreement that says we’re going to be together forever. And I’m pretty sure, as a certified magical being, that I know exactly how contracts work.” 

“You think?” 

“I know.” Mal says, with a truly enviable amount of breezy confidence. She smacks her dough ball, which wobbles encouragingly. “You can’t escape us. We’re together forever. Even if you die, I’ll just pull you back with my awesome godlike powers.” 

“The powers you can’t control without your dad around, right,” Jay agrees, trying to use Mal’s confidence to chase away the horrible icy feeling that creeps up every time he thinks too hard about moving away from the others. Even if it’s just for a semester. Even if he’ll totally see them on the weekends. Even if he’s bad at being alone, and he can’t always breathe through the ice when he thinks about it. “Totally comforting.” 

“You’re not comforted by my powers?” Mal asks, squinting down at her ball of dough. “I think this is ready, maybe. Did you remember to preheat the oven?” 

Jay leans over to hit the preheat button. “Yeah. I remembered.”

“Liar.” Mal says, laughing. “I should tar and feather you for that.” 

“Egg and flour me, maybe.” 

“I don’t know, I think you’re doing a pretty great job doing that all on your own,” Mal points out, reaching across the counter to trace a line of damp flour across his cheek. “My little ghost boy.”