not friends, just something. [a & blane] (Patreon)

synopsis: A buys something from IKEA. fortunately or not, Blane is available to help.

note: so sorry it's been so long since the last drabble went up—tonight has been the first time i've been able to write in at least a week. that being said, i'll be skipping the weekly update because i think i wrote, like, 100 words max. exams man.

Fact: [A] and Blane don't get along.

Fact: [A] and Blane have more in common than they think.

Fact: [A] and Blane have become somewhat friends.

[A] isn't sure how it started. Certainly not after Blane came barging into Caine's office, threatening to tell Sebastian what they and the Hunter were doing. And certainly not after they got kicked out of K's penthouse (which time, you ask? Doesn't matter). But it started somewhere. After being forced to be in each other's presence for hours at a time, multiple death experiences, and a begrudging piece of advice in dark times, [A] and Blane have become….

[A] doesn't like to say it aloud.

It's strange. They're like two puzzle pieces that can never slot together and yet somehow, they've found a way to work in harmony with one another. Well, maybe harmony is stretching it.

Because as much as they have accepted their newfound relationship with Blane, [A] still finds themself scrunching their nose every time they realize how dysfunctional they are. They must be doing the expression now because Blane is wearing the exact deadpan stare they always do when they notice [A] is making this face.

"What is it now?" Blane asks.

[A] forces themself to smooth out their expression. "Nothing."

"That doesn't work on me. Try again."

[A] sighs, sinking down onto the floor. Dysfunctional is one way to put it. "I was just… thinking."

Blane arches an eyebrow. "Surprising considering how empty your head is. What about?"

[A] forces themself not to punch Blane in the face. "About us, I guess. Not in a romantic sense, I mean. Like, I mean. How I called you over to build my IKEA table out of all things and you actually, I don't know, came? Like—"

"Devereux." Blane's voice is low, holding a now familiar hint of mirth that overrides the years of previous annoyance. "Don't make me throw the manual at you. You ramble too much and you're as much of an idiot as you were when we first met, but if I didn't come, you would have been grumbling in the group chat about your table the whole week."

"I'm not an idiot."

Blane points at the table leg closest to [A]. "You tried to put that on backward."

This time, [A] picks up a nearby screw and throws it lightly in the other hunter's direction. Blane dodges and releases a small huff of air—their version of a laugh. Before, [A] might have been discouraged but now, they take what they can get. A smile curves at the edge of their lips.

"You were the one reading the instructions."

"I showed you a picture."

"Exactly! You weren't even doing your job."

"I said I was decent at deciphering IKEA instructions, not an expert."

"That's the first time I've heard you admit you're not the best at something."

Blane ignores the comment, turning a scrutinizing gaze on the table. They poke it with a finger and the structure wobbles slightly in response, but otherwise stays standing.

[A] bites their lip. They allow for the table a couple of extra seconds to steady itself before asking: "You don't think we need to rebuild it, do you?" 

Blane turns to face them. They survey the ground, littered with various nuts and bolts and wooden rods that definitely should have been used at some point. "All the major pieces are in. It should stay standing as long as you don't put a whole roast dinner on it or something." A pause. "Not that you can cook."

[A] gawks. "I can cook perfectly fine, thank you!"

"Is that why we bought takeout?"

[A] thinks about the pad-Thai they had earlier and against their will, their stomach growls. Blane smirks at the sound and [A] glares in return. It's so familiar that it brings [A] back to their original thought of how strange this all is. They refuse to admit that they're friends, but they'll agree that they're something.

[A] sits back up. "Hey, Rekner?"

Blane's expression mellows the moment they see [A]'s. "Devereux."

"I'm only going to say this once, so if you miss it, that's your fault. I'm not repeating it. It's never—" [A] sucks in a breath, cutting themself off at Blane's glare. They clear their throat. "Thanks for coming."

Blane doesn't say anything, eyes roaming over [A] slowly. They're silent for so long that [A] debates breaking their promise and repeating the words, if only to get rid of the awkwardness of the situation, but then, ever-so-slightly, the other hunter nods.

"Invite me to test it out sometime and we're even," Blane says.

"Deal."