only you. (k & rylan) (Patreon)

synopsis: K wants nothing more than a quiet afternoon. Rylan has other plans, namely, getting their warlock friend out of the penthouse.

"What if—"

"No."

"Okay, but if—"

"No."

"How about—"

"Do you really think if you keep trying, I'll eventually say yes?"

Rylan lets out a large groan, falling back on K's couch with the mannerisms of a cat. K considered adopting one once, back when they thought an animal might fill the void in their heart, but ultimately passed on the idea. They're glad. If they had one, it would likely double the number of times Rylan swings by their penthouse.

"You'd think that just once, you'd let me get a word in," Rylan answers. They kick their feet up on the armrest. K has to resist wrinkling their nose. "You don't even know what I was going to say!"

"Something stupid, surely."

"Like what!"

K shakes their head, taking a swig of water. "When do you not say something stupid, Villanueva?"

"All the time. I'm a very smart individual," Rylan insists. They cross their arms with a small huff. "Besides, I didn't come here to be bullied. The goal was to get you out of the apartment, you old warlock. When was the last time you stepped foot out the door?"

K scowls. "This morning."

"The balcony doesn't count."

This time, K doesn't answer. They didn't think their friend would notice the spell they were in, but of course, Rylan is more perceptive than K gives them credit for. They'll pick themself out of it eventually. When K spirals, they know it's only a matter of time before their head rights itself again.

Because harmful thoughts are just that: thoughts. K is just as susceptible to them as the next person, but what gets them through them is knowing even if their worst fantasies come true, there is nothing they can do.

Pure acceptance.

K is nothing more than a tree swaying in the wind. They are subject to the will of the world. Their immortality, their unhappiness, their loneliness—all problems out of reach. They've been alive for over a century. Whether it is to their liking, their issues always sort themselves out one way or another.

When it's clear K isn't going to respond, Rylan prompts, "Have you been eating?"

K's gaze flicks to the kitchen, where their fridge has been slowly emptying itself out. They value their health enough that they’ll force themself to go grocery shopping when everything is finished, rather than live off those instant noodle packs that Rylan adores.

"Yes."

Rylan arches an eyebrow. "So if I open your fridge right now, it'll have the entire grocery store in it?"

"I don't buy the entire grocery store."

"It often feels like it."

Rylan sits up, examining K with a scrutiny that could rival theirs. Narrowed brown eyes, calculations that practically hover over their brain, head tilted as if the angle might help them figure out how to fix this. Not one to forfeit a challenge, K stares back at their friend.

"Where do you usually shop?" Rylan asks.

K frowns. "Variety of places. I get the bulk of my stuff from the local grocery store about two blocks away. The rest I get from scattered stores from the neighbourhood."

"Including those bagels you once bought for me?"

"Including those bagels. Though, the store might be closed now."

"Then let's check!" Rylan jumps up faster than K's eyes can track, appearing in front of K so quickly they nearly spill their water. "It's only three in the afternoon, they might still have an hour or so left before closing. You're hungry, right? Let's go grocery shopping."

K feels a pounding begin between their eyes. "Rylan—"

"What are you going to eat tonight? Pasta again?"

K glares at their friend. "It's very good pasta."

"I have no doubt, considering how good you are at cooking," Rylan responds, compliment falling off their tongue easily. "But you're missing Filipino food, I can feel it in my bones. Your stomach is practically begging me for it." They grin. "Let me cook for you tonight. Then, once we go grocery shopping, you can get that relaxation you want."

"For what price."

Rylan gasps and places a hand over their heart. "You wound me. I don't charge when it's for my friends—you know that. The only price you'll be paying is the grocery bill."

"And the kitchen if you burn it down," K mutters. But the battle has already been fought and lost. They stand and ignore Rylan's cheers, placing their glass down on a nearby table. They pause, considering something. "If you make me some dessert tonight, I'll buy you bagels next week too."

Rylan's eyes widen. "Really?"

"Really."

The half-vampire whoops and all but drags K out the door, barely giving them time to grab their keys and wallet. They babble the entire elevator ride down, receiving nothing more than the occasional nod and hum from K, but Rylan couldn't seem happier.

And though K looks bored out of their mind as Rylan attempts to add item after item to the shopping cart, they send a silent thanks to their friend for rousing them out of their penthouse. Rylan knows, of course. They're just kind enough to let them keep up their façade.