Work Text:
He knew this was coming. They both did.
“So… that’s it, then,” fWhip says. It’s not a question.
“Yeah,” Jimmy murmurs, “I suppose it is.”
fWhip watches as Jimmy stands, grabbing his coat off one of the chairs by the bedroom door.
“I… should probably go,” Jimmy says.
fWhip hums. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I’ll uh… I’ll see you out.”
Not bothering to grab a jacket himself, fWhip side steps carefully past Jimmy, out the bedroom door. Behind him, he can hear Jimmy follow.
Walking through his house has never taken so long. fWhip leads Jimmy through it all for the last time in silence, the man pulling his coat on as they reach the front door.
The two step outside. The late afternoon sun shines brightly on them both, large clouds drifting lazily overhead. Jimmy’s car lingers in his driveway, the sight achingly familiar.
Stepping off the porch, fWhip finds a place in the sun warmed grass, sitting down. His eyes follow as Jimmy— surprisingly— walks up next to him, moving to sit down as well. He raises an eyebrow.
“Is it okay if I sit for a little?” Jimmy asks.
“Go ahead.”
Jimmy carefully lowers himself down, a safe distance from where fWhip now lays in the yard. He’s… not exactly sure what Jimmy’s doing, at this point.
He looks up, eyes watering slightly at the bright sky, finding nothing but the tips of treetops and slow going clouds. Jimmy lays next to him.
(It’s over, right? Why are they still here?)
Mid afternoon shifts to early evening, shadows stretching long over the garden. A precarious quiet settles over them, neither daring to break it.
(He stares into nothing for a long moment. It feels like no time at all. It feels like an eternity.)
Jimmy was supposed to leave an hour ago, by now.
Yet…
He’s still here, laying beside fWhip in the grass. fWhip’s eyes trace again over listless clouds in the slowly darkening sky, silent. He can feel the heat from Jimmy beside him, unmoving. Silent.
(What could he possibly say? What’s left to be said? It feels as if fWhip has said it all. None of it made a difference.)
They’ve both been silent for a while.
He’s not sure whether to be grateful for wearing a tank top or not, at this point— the sun on his skin was nice, before he’d been laying in it for far too long. Grass itches against fWhip’s bare arms, though he hesitates to move much, feeling as if he’ll break whatever silent spell has fallen over them both, if he moves.
He doesn’t wanna break the spell, doesn’t want to disrupt whatever silent agreement they’ve both somehow come to.
No… if this is their final evening together, they’re not gonna argue. Not anymore.
(You can’t change him, his mind says. He’s not good for you. This is for the best.)
(I know, he thinks. I know.)
He hears Jimmy’s breathing shift, the rhythm faltering as Jimmy takes a more measured breath, and then…
(Is it time? He quickly sifts through anything else he could say. There is nothing, meaningless sentences slipping through his fingers like infinite grains of sand.)
“Do you think there’s a universe where we’re happy together?” Jimmy asks softly, the words barely above a whisper.
And just like that, the spell is broken. fWhip resists the urge to sit up, to look at Jimmy. He fixes his eyes resolutely on the sky.
What a thing to ask… how is fWhip supposed to know?
(“I want there to be,” fWhip doesn’t say. “I wanted this to be that universe, so badly.”)
He doesn’t risk moving. Thoughts flit through his brain, trying to come up with anything to say— anything tame, anything safe.
(“It feels like we both tried our absolute hardest to make this work,” he doesn’t say, “but it just doesn’t seem like we can ever work.”)
Whatever he says now… fWhip knows he doesn’t wanna fight, anymore. This… this last moment, this last memory… he wants it to be okay.
(“I think we’re both fundamentally broken,” he doesn’t say, “in ways that neither of us know how to fix. I don’t think it ever could’ve worked.”)
“It doesn’t seem likely,” fWhip settles on, just as quiet. The words sound stiff to his own ears, as he says them. Hesitant, guarded.
(It’s… close enough, to whatever he really wanted to say. Both for Jimmy’s sake, and his own.)
Soft pinks and oranges streak across a sunset sky. It’ll be getting dark soon. The beginnings of a shiver pass down fWhip’s body, despite the lingering heat.
All at once, Jimmy sits up.
The spell is broken. It must be time. fWhip sits up, too.
“Hey…” Jimmy reaches out a tentative hand towards fWhip’s face, scooting closer to him on the grass. fWhip allows Jimmy’s palm to rest gently against his cheek, leaning ever so slightly into the touch.
Jimmy leans in, fWhip’s eyes falling closed as their lips meet for the last time. Soft, yet passionate, with just a touch of something more— something… desperate.
(“I love you,” neither of them can bring themselves to say. “I’m sorry. I miss you. Please take care.”)
fWhip sighs into the kiss, hands finding their way to Jimmy’s face, tracing his cheeks with idle thumbs.
(They both hope they’ve said enough.)
And then… it’s over. Jimmy pulls away, or maybe fWhip does first, he can’t tell.
Jimmy brings himself to a stand.
“Goodbye,” he says, turning away from fWhip. The word sounds choked to fWhip’s ears.
He pretends not to watch as Jimmy unlocks his car, pretends not to watch as Jimmy climbs in and shuts the door, as Jimmy backs out of his driveway, as Jimmy leaves for the last time. He pretends not to listen to the sound of Jimmy’s car on the gravel as he drives away, until the rumble fades into indiscernible background noise.
He lingers outside long after Jimmy’s gone.
It’s dark by the time fWhip picks himself up to head inside.