Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Etho never thought he’d be the kind to be jealous.

He’d always thought of himself as easy going, nonchalant, and confident in his relationship with others. He’d told himself that he’d never feel like he was being replaced or like he was less important than someone else. He'd told Iskall, once, that he would support any of his friends who would start a romantic relationship, knowing that he’d remain by their side, glad to see them happy.

So Etho really wouldn’t have described himself as the jealous type.

Etho had been wrong.

Well, to be specific, Etho hadn’t thought of Bdubs in that particular scenario.

And Etho had definitely not thought that Bdubs would find love in someone else’s arms.

And really, even if he were asked today, Etho would still not describe himself as jealous. He would describe himself as in love.

And he wouldn’t say these words himself, but Iskall would also describe him as heartbroken.

Physical touch

Etho’s heart breaks when he sees his best friend’s grin.

It’s cruel, and he feels angry at himself for being upset and sad at Bdubs’s happiness. Hadn’t he been so quick to claim that he wanted nothing but for Bdubs to be happy? Hadn’t he believed that?

Bdubs looks happy. He looks radiant, he shines more than the moon does. He holds himself close to Impulse, their hands clasped together, their fingers intertwined so thoroughly that Etho wonders if they will ever let go. He looks so happy.

Etho feels sick.

He comes towards them, hands shoved in his pockets, cold and without anything to hold. Joel is next to him, but his presence has nothing of the warmth and comfort that Etho wishes it did.

This is not to say that Joel’s presence is unwanted. It is just- Joel isn’t Bdubs. Joel cannot distract him from how content Bdubs looks, his hand intertwined with Impulse’s.

“Hey there everybody,” Etho greets. “What are we up to?”

Bdubs’s grin widens. “Ladders!” he shouts, pulling his hand free and leaping forward to hug him. “I missed you!”

Wrapping an arm around Bdubs’s waist to return the embrace, Etho meets Impulse’s eyes.

It’s upsetting, the fact that Impulse beams at him happily, as if seeing Bdubs happy was everything he’d ever wanted, as if he were so confident in Bdubs loving him that he wouldn’t even think to feel insecure, as if he didn’t feel the same kind of pain as Etho does.

Well.

He doesn’t.

Etho… Etho wishes he could be angry, wishes he could snap at him, wishes he could scream.

Instead of doing so, he squeezes Bdubs’s waist and lets go, pulling away from the man he’s so desperately in love with. “Did we interrupt something?” he asks, keeping his tone teasing.

“Dude, they were probably licking each other’s faces before we came!” Joel accuses, pointing a finger at them. “Look at them! Giving each other cooties!”

“Bold words for a man wearing Etho’s face on a shirt,” Impulse retorts with a warm laugh.

Why is he so amused? So loving? So calm? Etho wants to slap him, wants to yell.

The urge intensifies when Bdubs comes back toward him, giggling at his response. Their hands find each other again, as if this was an instinctive gesture, something their souls had been made for, or an intricate dance that they have practiced for centuries.

Etho, though, does not act out on the boiling jealousy in his chest. He pretends not to see the intertwined fingers, the palms pressed together, or the way Impulse and Bdubs have gotten so close that their shoulders are touching.

It’s a strange portrait, Impulse’s solid built against Bdubs’s slim figure. It shouldn’t match. It doesn’t. It doesn’t match. It feels asymmetrical and wrong. It feels…

It doesn’t feel like they complement each other. It feels like they are opposite, like they shouldn’t be near each other. Like-

Etho hates that he can’t even lie to himself.

They look beautiful. They lean into each other like it is the most natural thing in the world. They look like the universe wanted them together, like they are the pieces of a puzzle long left unsolved.

They look like they soak in each other’s presence, like their physical closeness is everything they ever needed to be comfortable and happy.

And Etho yearns so much.

And he cannot say a word.

Acts of services

Impulse and Bdubs work together like a charm, like the best pair, like the most beautiful team.

Etho thinks about the NHO, about team ZIT, and wonders what makes Impulse and Bdubs work so much better together than anything else he’d ever seen.

He refuses to think that they work well together because they hold hands and smile at each other, and kiss tenderly, and share giggles in the night. The thought makes him sick.

He doesn’t understand what makes it so beautiful, so special, what, in Impulse, makes Bdubs grin so wide.

But he does, because Impulse works so hard for the two of them. Bdubs spends days poured over his plans for a ‘midcentury modern mansion,’ and Impulse is nothing but supportive, bringing him hot chocolate, wrapping a warm blanket around his shoulders, and gently tugging him to bed when it gets too late at night.

Impulse is kind, patient, always smiling, and Etho hates that he understands what might have made Bdubs fall for him.

After all, the man is generous, hardworking, and always ready to help out. What is there not to love?

Well.

Etho would argue that the fact that Impulse has Bdubs’s attention and affection, something Etho has always desired, is a big factor in the painful resentment that sits in his stomach.

(Except Etho doesn’t resent Impulse. He doesn’t. It’s not Impulse’s fault that he is kind and hardworking. It is Etho’s fault for never taking his shot. It’s Etho’s fault for being upset and jealous instead of sharing in his friend’s joy).

Anyway.

Impulse is hardworking, and it seems that the amount of love he feels for someone is proportional to the extremes he’ll go to to please them.

And in drastic situations, this could mean that Impulse would be ready to die for someone, or kill for them.

For Bdubs, it means Impulse would dig down a hole for his swimming pool, collect hundreds of logs of Bdubs’s favourite wood, feed and milk their cows so Bdubs can stay in bed a bit longer in the morning. It means he’d do anything as long as he knows it would make Bdubs happy.

Right now, it means that Impulse is down in the mines, collecting deepslate tirelessly. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t stop grinning, as he wears done pickaxes after pickaxes.

“You know, if you used a diamond pick, this would go faster,” Etho comments, hands buried in his pockets as he watches the other man work.

Impulse chuckles, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. “Diamonds are a bit too precious these days,” he responds easily, taking a moment to breathe.

Etho raises an eyebrow and shifts a bit, digging out a diamond that Impulse unearthed. The ninth one he’s stolen so far. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, and- Hey!”

Etho presses his index finger to his mask, right where his lips are. “Shh. Don’t tell Bdubs.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to tell him everything,” Impulse replies. “Isn’t that how that works?”

“You tell me, man,” Etho replies, glancing at the other man. “I wouldn’t know.”

Impulse frowns. “Aren’t you and Bdubs…?”

He trails off. Etho frowns. “Aren’t we what?”

Impulse blinks a few times before shaking his head. “Never mind.” A pause before he continues, his tone more teasing. “If you’re going to be here, are you going to help me?”

Etho purses his lips. “Hmm… Do I get paid?”

Impulse laughs out loud at that. “Pretty sure you’ve been paying yourself, man.”

Etho waves a nonchalant hand around. “Nah, my actual rates are far higher.”

“How about friends and family discount?”

Etho tilts his head, looking at Impulse. “You know, I tend to receive discounts, not give them.”

Impulse turns to look at him. “Come on. You’d do it for Bdubs.”

That…

Well, that wipes Etho’s smile off his face instantly. It’s almost as if the entire mood had shifted.

Impulse frowns, a mix of confusion and guilt clear on his face. “Hey, Etho, I’m not-”

“Yeah,” Etho agrees. “Yeah, I would, he’s my best friend.” And isn’t that a terrible response? Isn’t he a sorry excuse for a best friend. “But you’re doing it for him now, aren’t you?”

Impulse inhales sharply. “Bdubs is working hard on our house,” he says. “You know he doesn’t like mining deepslate.”

“I do,” Etho agrees. “Because he’s my best friend. I know him well.”

Impulse swallows thickly. He looks concerned, guilty, apologetic, almost. And that means he knows, exactly, what is going on through Etho’s mind.

And that means that he might speak that cruel truth into the world.

“Etho-”

“I need to go,” Etho says. “I promised Joel I’d help him with building up our boat.”

Impulse frowns. “Etho, you need-”

“I’ll see you later,” Etho tells him. He throws him a couple of diamonds, looking at them gleam in the air before Impulse expertly catches them. “Here. Make a better pick.”

He isn’t sure how to interpret Impulse’s shallow exhale.

So he doesn’t. He leaves, hands in his pockets, gait relaxed, expression nonchalant, all in all the unaffected man that he isn’t.

He tells himself he doesn’t care.

(He doesn’t even manage to believe his own lies).

Receiving gifts

“Knock knock,” comes Impulse’s warm voice at their front door – well, at the ladder they use as their entrance to the boat.

“No solicitors!” Joel yells as a reply. “We’ve already paid our taxes!”

“Aw, man, and I was coming with a gift, too.”

Etho pokes his head out of the boat. “A gift?”

Impulse grins at him. “Hey there, buddy! How are you two?”

“Good,” Etho replies easily, putting one leg and then the other over the balustrade and sitting there, watching the newcomer.

“Hey, are you sure Joel would approve of you sitting like th-”

“What would I approve of?” Joel yells out from the backroom where he is smelting their ore.

“Nothing to worry about!” Etho shouts in response. “Impulse brought us a gift!”

“What’d he bring?”

Etho doesn’t reply, instead looking down at Impulse expectantly.

Impulse snorts. “Damn, you’re looking mighty impressive, up there.”

“Yeah? You’re probably not used to it with how short Bdubs is.” The response comes out by itself, a joke he’s repeated hundreds of times.  

Impulse laughs earnestly. “Gee, don’t let him hear you say that, he’d be so upset.”

“Nah, Bdubs knows what I think,” Etho waves the concern away. At that, though, he looks down more intently. “You’re not going to tell him, though?”

Impulse mimics locking his lips with a key. “Your secret’s safe with me, pal.”

“Good.” Etho gives him an appreciative look before he leaps down, hearing Impulse’s startled cry before he lands gracefully on the ground.

“Etho!” Joels yells out from the backroom. “Did you jump again?”

Etho snickers. “Guilty,” he responds, turning to Impulse. “You had a gift for us?”

Impulse is holding a hand to his chest, looking a bit lost between shock and relief. “Dude, I thought-”

“I’m a pro,” Etho replies without bothering with any details. He doesn’t focus on the fact that Bdubs would have known that. And Bdubs would have still acted overly impressed, and probably would have congratulated him a hundred times. “Gift?”

Impulse rubs the back of his head, looking a bit embarrassed. “Ah, it’s not a lot, really.” He pulls his backpack off his back and rummages through it. “Bdubs and I found a beehive, so he made some candles, and I helped him dye them.”

That sounds like a nice afternoon. Bdubs has always liked crafting small objects and it sounds like doing it alongside Impulse and his constant good mood would have been very enjoyable.

Etho doesn’t say that. “Oh, really?”

“Just a couple,” Impulse replies easily, still smiling warmly. “There you go, we made some green ones for Joel –” He places a few green delicate candles in Etho’s hand – “And Bdubs said you’d like anything he’d make so we just mixed up colours.”

Bdubs is right, and Etho’s heart leaps in his chest at the thought that Bdubs would have gotten him a gift, would have thought about him, would have-

The candles that Impulse places in his hands are beautiful. They look like sunsets, gradients of light blue to orange and pink to navy. They look like forests of brown and deep green, they look like dark caves splattered with glittering gems. They’re pretty.

He imagines Bdubs making them, childishly keeping his tongue to the side as he focuses on his paint. He imagines Bdubs’s thin hands – hands of an artist – molding the candles. He imagines Bdubs’s concentrated expression, his eyes lost in his craft rather than receptive to the world around him. He-

Etho swallows thickly.

“Etho?”

He blinks, closing his hand around the candles before Impulse can take them back.

His story – the image in his head – shifts, reflecting Impulse’s presence by Bdubs’s side, his arm wrapped around Bdubs’s waist, his laugh in his ear, his lips on his forehead, his back against his, his larger hands wrapped around Bdubs’s. He-

Etho feels jealous.

“They’re nice,” he replies, and his voice sounds strangled and raw and he dislikes that immensely. “Thank him for me, will you?”

Impulse’s eyebrows are twisted together in concern. “Are you-”

“They’re nice,” Etho repeats, not leaving room for more questions. “Was that all you needed?”

There is something shining in Impulse’s eyes that let Etho know that he is not blind to his avoidance of the conversation. There are questions, comments, and concerns shining through his eyes.

Etho focuses on his jealousy, refusing to feel guilty for protecting himself. He cracks his neck and tilts an eyebrow. “Well?”

“I wanted-” Impulse presses his lips together, looking hesitant. “I was hoping I could get your help, but I can always-”

“What do you want?” Etho asks, crossing his arms. And then, when Impulse flinches at his sharp tone, he half-heartedly tries to save it: “You are an ally, aren’t you? How can I help?” And God, Joel better appreciate his efforts to save their alliance.

Impulse winces a bit. “Well, I’m not asking for your help as an ally, more as a… as a friend of Bdubs?”

It sounds like a question, and Etho really, really wants to punch the other man. Instead, he inhales sharply. “What can I do for you?” Joel owes him five diamonds for his calm response.

“Well…” Impulse looks a bit hesitant before he gives in and pulls another object out of his bag. A clock. Or rather, something shaped like a clock but without a ticking sound or moving parts. So. An imitation of a clock with no working component. Etho raises an eyebrow and that is all the prompting Impulse needs to explain: “Bdubs has been talking about going down to mine because he wants to make a clock, but I was thinking-”

“You want to gift him one,” Etho completes.

Impulse smiles, maybe glad that Etho understood, maybe relieved Etho didn’t punch him. “I want to make him a watch,” he adds. “So he can keep it with him all the time, you know?”

And there is something visceral, in Etho, that makes him hate the idea of Bdubs’s wirst adorned with something Impulse made him. It is a revolting concept. His lips might pull a little because Impulse frowns.

“Etho?”

“Yeah,” Etho says, quickly regaining control over himself. “Yeah, I see.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “That sounds good. You should do it.” He goes to turn, to walk away, because, frankly, there is nothing he wants less in the world than to remain there, listening to Impulse speak about his perfect relationship about the man Etho is in love with.

“Oh, I was hoping-” Impulse looks a bit embarrassed. “I was hoping you could help me?”

And God all mighty, if Etho’s hands weren’t buried in his pockets, he might have strangled him. Instead, he raises an eyebrow, keeping his legendary countenance. “Help you?”

“Well, you know Bdubs,” Impulse says. “What do you think he would prefer? Gold wristband? Copper? Silvery?” Before Etho can open his mouth to reply, he continues. “Also, I’m trying to keep the clock as small as I can, and Mumbo isn’t available to help me with compact redstone, so I was hoping you could-?”

“You want me ,” Etho begins, “To help you -” He points, and Impulse nods “- with a gift you’re making for your boyfriend?”

Impulse chuckles. “Well, if you’re using the big words-”

Etho is going to feel sick. “Nah,” he interrupts before Impulse can throw words like ‘soulmate’ between them, reminding Etho of how unlucky he is, firmly telling him that he has no chances now, not when Impulse and Bdubs’s lives are linked by fate itself. “Nah, I get the point.”

And, because he is terrified that Impulse may decide to launch into a declaration of how much Bdubs means to him, and because he thinks that a discussion about redstone will be much more tolerable, he puts a hand on the ladder.

“Okay, follow me,” he decides, not looking to see if Impulse will follow. “Joel can help with the design too.”

Maybe if Joel is there, Etho won’t end up killing Impulse.

Maybe.

* * *

Bdubs is wearing his wristwatch like a badge of honor, like it is a sign of pride, like it is the most precious item he’s ever seen. Every time he looks down at it to tell the time, his gaze grows fond and his grin widens.

He looks… beautiful.

Etho loves him, loves him even when he wears another man’s mark, loves him even when he is out of reach.

Because for as long as Bdubs is by his side, Etho will be cruelly, irreversibly, impossibly in love with him.

“You like that watch, eh?” he comments one day, when Bdubs has glanced down at it for one too many times.

“How could I not?” Bdubs retorts, grinning at him. “It was made with love! It reminds me how lucky I am!”

Etho’s heart bleeds and, not for the first time, he feels glad to wear a mask, to hide his expression. He knows he can’t hide everything from Bdubs, though, and so he turns his head so the other one cannot see the pain and jealously in his eyes.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “How lucky.”

Impulse, in Etho’s eyes, is the lucky one. The winner.

And Etho?

Etho is a sorry, sorry loser.

Quality time

Some say that time heals all wounds.

Etho’s jealousy doesn’t get better with time. Instead, it simmers, getting increasingly closer to the boiling point. It bubbles threateningly, a little nearer to burning something with every passing day.

Etho’s jealousy gets worse with time.

It gets worse to the point that most everyone can tell. Well. Etho thinks they can tell. Cleo throws him worried glances sometimes. Ren looks pensive. Tango has appeared like he wanted to speak up a couple of times.

Etho’s manic mind decides that this means that everyone knows. But no one says anything.

Well.

Joel does.

“You’re glaring.”

Etho looks away from where he’d been staring – coincidentally in the exact area where Bdubs and Impulse are sitting, naked shoulders pressed together as they sit on the edge of their swimming pool, feet in the water. “I’m not.”

Joel’s eyebrows raise so high that it could be considered impressive. “So are you following some strange beauty trend to get wrinkles by the end of the month?” He keeps speaking before Etho can ask any questions about his strange comment. “Don’t ask. Lizzie spoke about methods to avoid wrinkles for a while.”

Lizzie. Joel’s wife. Joel’s… well, Joel’s everything. Joel’s soulmate.

It’s funny. That Bdubs has a soulmate who loves him and Etho has… Etho has someone who has his own love. Etho has… a friend?

“I’d love to hear about how to avoid wrinkles,” he tells Joel instead of continuing to focus on how sad his love life has gotten.

Joel snorts. “Really?”

Etho hums. “What do you think I am hiding under my mask?”

Joel gasps. “Are you telling me that my soulmate is a wrinkly old man?”

“And what if I am?”

He sticks out his chest, its glossy design catching in the lowering sun. “I’ll still proudly wear your face on my shirt!”

Etho snorts. “You need to stop doing that.”

“What? Can’t take the commitment and passion I’m offering?”

Etho looks back at Bdubs and Impulse. They’re holding hands now and talking in low voices. Bdubs is swinging their hands in the water. Etho finds his eyes focused on that, on the sight that keeps flickering in the water, their hands clasped together, their fingers intertwined, and he wants to scream.

He might be quiet for a bit too long, because Joel stops teasing him and instead, he comments on the scene in front of them. “They look like they’re enjoying themselves.”

Etho huffs. “What? Them? Nah. Bdubs is about to splash Impulse.”

As if the man could hear him, Bdubs does exactly that, using his free hand to send some water into Impulse’s chest. They hear a surprised shriek, and then a laugh, warm and deep, and so, so happy, and Etho’s eyes are captured again. Bdubs looks a bit pinker, and Impulse is grinning so widely. He looks like there is nowhere else he’d rather be, like he has everything he’s ever wanted right now.

And what is certain is that, right now, he has everything Etho has ever wanted.

Fuck.

Etho swallows thickly, disagreeing with the sudden warmth in his eyes, the knowledge that wetness is just across the horizon, ready to come at any second.

“D’you miss Lizzie?” he asks turning to his soulmate, desperate for a distraction.

The way Joel looks at him makes him feel uneasy. The other is frowning, as if he were trying to reconcile a few ideas, as if…

As if he knew.

Etho turns away again, looking back at Bdubs and Impulse who might have found some kind of peace treaty and are now swinging their legs in tandem, creating waves in the swimming pool.

There’s no escape. If he looks at Joel, the pity in his gaze reminds him of how pathetic he is. If he looks at Bdubs-

Well, looking at Bdubs is just a painful memory of what he cannot have.

“Every day,” Joel says, voice a bit raw. Etho has to think for a second to remember the question he asked him. “I keep just wanting to go home to her.” Oh, yeah. Lizzie. “It’s weird. I feel like I’m just so used to seeing her every single day, and being here, without her, is… It’s weird. But you know? She told me to have a good time. So I tell myself to enjoy time with my friends. And I know I’ll be back home soon, anyway.”

Etho wishes he had a home to look forward to.

His main base is in Bdubs’s basement, and Bdubs-

Bdubs is in love, and Bdubs is out of reach, and maybe, as soon as Etho gets back to the Hermitcraft server he will need to move, both because Impulse will surely want to move in and because it would be much healthier for him to take some distance, to allow himself to heal.

(Except his eyes keep moving straight back to Bdubs, to his smile, to his lips moving rapidly as they share some kind of story with Impulse, to his eyes shining excitedly, and Etho is a prisoner of this man, and there is nowhere he can go that he will forget him).

“Yeah,” Etho finally agrees lamely.

Joel looks at him again, far too inquisitive, far too… wise. “How about you?” he asks.

Etho frowns. “What?”

“Do you miss him?” Joel asks. “Bdubs?”

Etho almost stops breathing. “What?” He laughs, something a bit croaky and hysterical. “Joel, Bdubs and I aren’t-”

“That’s not the question I asked, is it?” Joel retorts. He breaks their eye contact and he, too, looks down at Bdubs and Impulse. “Do you miss him?” Etho opens his mouth. “Don’t lie to your soulmate.”

And well…

Etho and Joel are not soulmates, not the way Impulse and Bdubs are, not the way Jimmy and Tango are, not the way Scar and Grian are.

But they’re… allies. Friends, even.

And Joel, right now, sounds like he cares. And Joel, just a moment ago, had been vulnerable, when he told Etho about Lizzie.

So Etho decides to be honest too.

And he repeats the exact words Joel had whispered, when he’d asked him if he missed Lizzie.

Because after all, it’s the same for him. Bdubs is… Bdubs might not look at him the way Lizzie looks at Joel, but Etho cares, cares so much, cares maybe enough for the both of them.

So the question barely needs to be asked. Does he miss Bdubs? Does it hurt, to be away? To know that he’ll never be the one holding Bdubs’s hand like this, getting to press his lips to his forehead, to laugh with him so tenderly? Does he miss something that never even happened?

“Every day.”

This is all that needs to be said.

Joel sucks in a breath and comes a bit closer. Gingerly, he puts a hand on Etho’s shoulder. Squeezes it.

Etho exhales. He stays there, with his soulmate, his ally, his friend, by his side. And he keeps looking at the love of his life laughing with his soulmate.

And Gods, he misses Bdubs.

Words of affirmation

“Hey, Etho, can we talk?”

Etho looks up from the TNT he had been crafting, raising an eyebrow at Impulse’s serious expression. “Sure,” he replies easily. “If it’s about the redstone, Bdubs already came by today and grabbed most of our stock, so we’re out until Joel comes back from his mining session.”

Impulse opens his mouth, visibly to ask a question, before shaking his head. “It’s not about redstone.”

“Oh. What do you need, then? Joel and I already discussed the other teams, and we think it’s probably best to start with going after Ren and Big B before Ren gets all Red King on us again.”

Impulse frowns. “It’s not- I feel like there’s definitely something there, but I was actually coming to talk to you. Like, personally.”

Etho is at a loss for word for a moment, looking at the other man in silence. He quietly puts down the sand and gunpowder he’d been using and moves to lean against the wall, arms crossed nonchalantly. “Yes?”

“So, uh-” Impulse looks around, as if he were trying to give himself some courage or find the right words. And if Etho weren’t so certain that Impulse is an ally and won’t hurt him (at least not for as long as Bdubs continues caring about his well-being), he’d think that Impulse is trying to waste some time before unleashing some kind of trap on him.

All of the certainty in the world is not enough for Etho not to tense up, ready to leap. “Well?”

“So, Bdubs and I are soulmates.”

It’s not a trap, it’s not an attempt at harming him, and it’s just as painful. Etho thinks about glaring. About snapping an answer back. Instead, he just inhales, cold eyes on the other man. “I’m aware.”

“And I’m- Well, you know we’ve been… spending time together. Being- Well, learning what it means for us to be soulmates.”

Etho thinks about Impulse and Bdubs holding hands, Impulse placing gentle kisses on Bdubs’s forehead, Bdubs pressing himself against Impulse’s chest. He thinks about their smiles to each other, their laughs together. Their house. Their shared secrets. Their… Their bond. One Etho so desperately wishes he could have with Bdubs. “I’m aware,” he repeats. “What’s your point?”

“Well,” Impulse continues and it is unfair how friendly he looks, how, even when he’s faced with Etho’s open hostility, he remains good-mannered, kind, and patient. “I have- Well, I think- I know  - that you matter a lot to Bdubs. And you care for him.”

“I do,” Etho retorts without blinking. He won’t hide from that. And he won’t let Impulse demand that he puts some distance between them or stop allowing Bdubs to embrace him. He doesn’t know if he glare defiantly. Maybe he does. “What about it.”

Impulse chuckles. “It’s nothing bad, man,” he comments. “Relax, really. I just- You’re very important to Bdubs. You’re his…” He trails off.

“His best friend,” Etho completes. He looks back at Impulse, challenging. He is Bdubs’s best friend. He is here to stay.

Impulse makes a strange face at that, and it takes him half a second to contain himself. “Yeah,” he continues. “His best friend. So I just wanted to tell you, as Bdubs’s best friend: I think I’m in love with him.”

Etho thinks about punching Impulse in the face.

“I’ve told him,” Impulse continues, oblivious or stupid or- cruel, though that doesn’t quite fit. “I think we’re really good for each other, you know? And I think he deserves to know that he is loved.”

Etho thinks about breaking Impulse’s nose.

“Huh,” he responds instead of unleashing any of the violent thoughts that run through his brain. “Do you know how short he is?”

That’s the only thing he has left. Jokes. Because what else is there? Being angry? That would make Bdubs upset, and, truly, it is not Impulse’s fault that he fell in love with Bdubs. Bdubs is, after all, loveable. He is frustratingly obnoxious, loud, and stubborn. He is the most creative man Etho has ever met, his excitement is contagious, his grin is bright enough to make anyone feel better. He is the kind and caring.

Etho’s in love, and so, how could he hate Impulse for having fallen in love with the exact details Etho loves so much? And what else is there, if anger is not an option? Sadness? Pathetically begging Impulse to please not take Bdubs away from him?

That’s not an option either. One, Etho refuses to beg, refuses to cry, refuses to make himself so vulnerable even to an ally. And two, it is not up to Impulse anyway. This is about Bdubs, about the feelings Etho has toward him, and asking Impulse to not pursue a relationship would not change the way Bdubs feels.

Etho can see the way Bdubs grins at Impulse, unabashedly happy, and he loves Bdubs too much to wish him any harm. He doesn’t want to take Bdubs’s happiness away.

So he jokes, because there’s nothing else.

Impulse snorts. “I do,” he responds. “I accept him anyway.” His amused smile falls. “But Etho, seriously-”

“What do you want from me?” Etho cuts. “Advice on how to flirt with him?” Impulse frowns and goes to answer. “Because you got it, dude. You don’t have to do anything more. He already likes you. Heck, maybe he loves you too.”

“He does,” Impulse interrupts. When Etho’s eyes snap to him, he winces. “Sorry, I just- He does. He told me so. I think- We think we’re a really good team. We want to- Well, we’ve liked everything that’s gone on so far.”

Etho really wants to punch Impulse’s apologetic expression off his face. “Good for you,” he retorts, and no amount of forced nonchalance can make his words sound any less colder than they are.

Impulse looks… well, guilty is not exactly it. He looks concerned.

Etho still wants to punch him, concern or not. “What’d you need from me, then?” he asks again, unable to sound uncaring. “My blessing?” He spits the word and he knows Impulse notices it.

He knows he shouldn’t antagonize Impulse. Not when he is one of his only allies. Not when Bdubs cares about him. Hell, loves him even. Problem is, Etho isn’t sure how to sound kind and supportive anymore.

“Well, I just-” Impulse grimaces. “I just wanted to know how you feel about it?”

Etho wants to punch him in the chin and give him an actual reason to grimace. An actual reason to look like he is in pain. “I’m thrilled,” he hisses. “Delighted. Now, Joel and I don’t have a lot of resources, so you’ll forgive us not sending you a wedding gift.”

“Etho, seriously…” Impulse sighs, and the crease between his eyes deepens. He looks concerned, and saddened, and Etho feels angry. What? Is he supposed to jump for joy at the thought that the love of his life is entering a serious relationship? What else does Impulse want from him? A best friend to gush with? This has never been Etho’s style.

Etho wants to punch him so bad.

“I’ve got to go help Joel with mining,” he says, pushing himself off the wall. “Was there anything else you needed?”

“Etho, this is why I wanted to- Listen, I don’t want to encroach on yours and Bdubs’s relationship. This is what I wanted to tell you.”

Etho wants to-

Wait, what?

His eyes widen and he makes no effort at hiding his reaction. “What?”

Impulse doesn’t even blink, as if he didn’t say the most inane thing Etho has ever heard. “Your- Well, I know you and Bdubs have your…” He gestures vaguely. “Whatever you want to call it. I don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to compete, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” Etho feels bewildered. Their relationship? “Bdubs and I are- There’s nothing between us.”

Impulse stares at him. “You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not.” Etho wishes he was kidding. Wishes there was something between him and Bdubs. But there’s also the cold truth that they are nothing but friends that remains in his mind, cruel and unchanging. “I figure you’d know that. You’ve spent weeks kissing Bdubs. Surely you’d know if he had a boyfriend.”

“Well, I figured that you-…” Impulse trails off. “Never mind. I just- Bdubs cares about you a lot, you know?”

Etho crosses his arms. “Yeah. We’re friends.”

“I mean-”

“Impulse, let me be clear,” Etho interrupts. “I’m glad your relationship with Bdubs is going well. I understand why you love him and I know he likes you back. You make him happy, and I can only thank you for that.” He pauses, tightening his fists. “But, right now, I really, really, want to punch you. And you know that Joel won’t try to convince me not to be violent.” He comes a bit closer to Impulse, satisfaction filling his chest when he sees Impulse gulps. “So either you get out of my house, right now, or I’ll let you explain to Bdubs why his jaw hurts.”

Impulse frowns. Instead of angry, though, he looks saddened. “Etho-”

“Am I being clear?”

Impulse looks like he is about to protest but Etho’s glare convinces him otherwise. “Crystal,” he agrees.

“Great,” Etho says, his voice just above a whisper. “Now go back to your soulmate, will you?”

“Etho, you really should-” Even as he is protesting, Impulse is moving down the ladder, leaving the ship.

“One more thing.” Impulse pauses in his movement, hands tight around the ladder, looking back up to Etho. There’s something in Etho’s mind that tells him that right now would be an excellent opportunity to attack him. ‘He slipped’ would be the only excuse he’d need. He shakes that thought out of his brain before he can take action. “Tell Bdubs I’m happy for you two.”

“Etho, you aren’t really-”

“I know what I’m saying,” Etho interrupts before Impulse can attempt to tell him what he is feeling. “Tell him I’m happy for him.” A sigh. “And if you do really love him, you’d do good not to ever hurt him.”

“I do,” Impulse breathes. “I do love him.”

“Good,” Etho says, even if he feels the opposite. “Then keep him safe. And make him happy.”

Keep him safe for me, Etho wants to say. Make him happy in my place, he wants to beg.

He doesn’t. He just stays quiet, looking at Impulse as the man climbs down the ladder all the way back to the ground. He leaves before Impulse can look up to say goodbye.

Waltzing

Ren and Big B are throwing a party at the box (“tonight, we shall call it the music box!” Ren claims loudly). Music plays from the jukeboxes installed around the box.

Scar is demonstrating some very impressive dance move, Tango and Jimmy are tripping on each other’s toes, but no one can look at it any way but fondly.

And Bdubs and Impulse are waltzing.

“You are actually going to get wrinkles,” Joel warns, and Etho shifts to look at him. At his unamused expression, Joel snorts. “What? I’m right.”

Etho rolls his eyes and focuses back on Impulse and Bdubs. They… They look good. They look so in love with each other. Impulse’s arm is wrapped around Bdubs’s waist in what can only be describe as pure care. Bdubs’s hand, in return, rests on Impulse’s shoulder, holding a bit tighter than strictly necessary. As if he was seeking more contact. 

Etho could make a joke about Bdubs needed to be the one whose waist is held as the smaller dancing partner, but he doesn’t think he’d manage to make it sound mirthful enough. Impulse and Bdubs’s other hands are clasped tightly together, their arms slightly outstretched. They’re looking into each other’s eyes and it seems as if they couldn’t bear to look away from each other. Maybe it is true.

They swing slowly together, their feet moving in rhythm. One two three, one two three, one two three. It’s beautiful, the companionship the dance demands. One misstep from one of them could ruin it all. They have to work together to make it beautiful.

And they do. They dance gracefully, gazing into each other’s eyes. They both hold the other as if he were the most precious thing they have in the world.

And they dance beautifully, following a rhythm only known of them. From his spot on the bench, Etho counts it with them. One two three, one two three, one two-

“D’you think Martyn will manage to ask Ren to dance with him?”

Etho raises an eyebrow, turning back to Joel. “Shouldn’t he try asking Cleo?”

They both look to where the undead woman is sitting and laughing as she watches Scott and Scar launch into some weird semblance of a dance off.

“Nah,” Joel refutes. “She would say no.” A pause. “And he doesn’t want to, anyway.”

“She’s his soulmate.”

Joel raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, and you and I know very well that this doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Etho exhales. “You’re an exception. You’ve got Lizzie back home.”

“Yeah, and Ren and Martyn have been dancing around each other for years now,” Joel retorts. “Heh. Dancing.” Etho gives a small snort.

There’s a moment of quiet, during which Etho turns back to the guests around them. Grian’s entire attention is on Scar. Whatever attempt he’d made at having an affair with Big B a few weeks ago seems completely forgotten. He looks transfigured by the sight of his soulmate dancing, even if, in Etho’s eyes, what Scar is doing is more akin to wild flailing than graceful dance moves. In any cases, there is a hunger and a fondness in Grian’s eyes that Etho can only imagine are similar to the emotions in Martyn’s gaze, as he looks up at Ren. Maybe this is how Joel looks at Lizzie too, when they’re both together.

“Besides, I wasn’t talking about me,” Joel continues, as if there hadn’t been a long pause in their conversation. At Etho’s interrogative look, he explains: “About soulmates not really meaning anything. I was talking about you, dude.”

Etho doesn’t say anything. He forbids himself from looking back at Bdubs and Impulse, knowing fair well that this is what Joel expects him to do. He focuses on the other side of the room, at Pearl who’s giggling excitedly as Ren makes her spin the way one would a little girl.

“Etho, you gotta be honest with yourself.”

“About?” Maybe sounding detached will be enough for Joel to think he got the wrong idea.

“Bdubs and Impulse,” Joel tells him, foiling his hopes of avoiding that conversation. “You keep glaring at them. And I heard you arguing with Impulse the other day.”

Etho sighs. “I know it’s not good for our alliance,” he admits. “Maybe it’d be better if we tried to ally with Scar and Grian. They’ve got some good ideas, if you forget the pillager tower one.”

“We shouldn’t forget the- Wait, this isn’t about alliances, Etho! And you shouldn’t ruin our alliances with them. It’s just- Shouldn’t you talk to him? To Bdubs?”

“About what?”

There is something in Joel’s eyes that is not completely unlike frustration. “Are you really going to pretend?”

“Hey, how many times do you think Jimmy will step on Tango’s toes before Tango gives up?” he asks instead of acknowledging that Joel understands him far too well.

Perhaps this is what being a soulmate is about. Maybe it’s not about romantic love, it’s about knowing how the other feels.

“You know, I don’t think he will,” Joel responds after a long pause, generously allowing Etho the escape. “Tango’s a brave, brave man.” And then, because he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t, he raises his voice. “Hey Jimmy, this is an adult party, not a middle school prom dance! Get some moves!”

“I have moves!” Jimmy whines in returns. “You’re not even dancing!”

“Etho and I are too cool for dancing,” Joel retorts with a smirk.

“Are you?” Tango baits, one hand squeezing Jimmy’s shoulder in comfort. “Or are you scared not to be as good as us?”

“Are you serious?” Joel exclaims incredulously. He catches eyes with Grian, who was observing. “Grian, come with me, we need to show these idiots what this is about.” Grian instantly leaps off his chair, joining Joel with a grin, never one to refuse an opportunity to annoy Jimmy.

Etho watches the two of them walk further away until their pretend argument with Jimmy and Tango is no longer in earshot.

He sighs.

“That’s a big sigh.”

Etho jumps, not having heard Bdubs approach. “Everything must seem big to someone so small,” he responds instinctively.

“Hey!” Bdubs punches Etho’s shoulder, something so natural and familiar that it makes Etho smile despite himself. “How dare you? Impulse says I’m very tall!”

Etho’s smile falls instantly. “Oh, does he?”

Bdubs might act obnoxiously and pretend to be careless, but he is a very receptive person. And he instantly changes his demeanour at Etho’s mood shift. “He’s told me you had a fight.”

Etho winces. Is this when Bdubs comes to reproach him his behaviour? To ask him to please find a way to at least be civil with his new boyfriend? “It wasn’t really an argument,” he tries. “I was just… a bit frustrated.”

“Yeah,” Bdubs agrees. “He told me.”

 There’s something like a lump in Etho’s throat. It is not painful but noticeable. It makes it harder to breathe. Harder to speak.

And well, even if he could speak, what could he say?

‘I’m sorry’? He isn’t. Well, he is sorry Bdubs might hate him for being too possessive, but he certainly isn’t sorry to have snapped at Impulse. He wishes he’d done more. Wishes he had scared him away fully.

(Except it would have hurt Bdubs and Bdubs would have never forgiven him).

“Can we… speak about it?” There is something tentative, in Bdubs’s tone. A bit hesitant. A bit… Well, kind. As kind as it always is, with Etho. He doesn’t sound angry.

So Etho nods, because what else is he supposed to do? He’s never been able to say no to Bdubs.

Bdubs exhales heavily, as if he were preparing himself for an argument, and he comes to sit down next to Etho, right where Joel had been. “All right, let’s talk, then, Ladders.”

There is something reassuring about Bdubs using his nickname. Something telling Etho that maybe he isn’t as mad as he could be. Maybe this will just be a stern reminder to keep his jealousy to himself, instead of a demand that Etho never speaks to either Bdubs or Impulse ever again.

“Ladders, I say we need to talk. I’m listening!”

Bdubs is always impatient, and that constant makes a small smile flourish back on Etho’s lips. “I’m all out of words, I’m afraid,” he tells the other. “Joel tried to make me speak about my feelings.”

“Oh, oh!” Bdubs sounds interested. “What’d you tell him, then?”

“That I don’t want to get wrinkles.” Not the full truth, but it feels like it is a good summary of their conversation. Their conversations, plural, in fact. Etho knows that this entire situation is making him upset, and he wishes it could be different.

Bdubs frowns at him, ironically doing the exact thing Joel has mocked Etho for. “That’s not the whole story,” he says, suspicious.

Etho shrugs, looking away.

“I wanted you to talk about your feelings too,” Bdubs tells him when he realizes that Etho won’t give more details.

He gives a pause there, – an opportunity for Etho to speak. He doesn’t take it. What could he say? That he has recently discovered that he is, in fact, a jealous and possessive person? That he hates Impulse because Bdubs loves him? Where would that lead them? Bdubs would be upset. He wouldn’t be able to change things. Etho would stay upset.

Better remain quiet, and only have one upset person, between the two of them.

“Impulse says you’re hurt,” Bdubs tells him. That makes Etho react. He turns, looking at Bdubs.

“Not angry?”

“Well, he said that you were aggressive,” Bdubs adds. “But he says you’re lashing out out of pain, not anger.”

Etho inhales deeply. What does Impulse think he is doing? Is he trying to be the good guy? The perfect new boyfriend who worries about everyone? “I didn’t know he was a psychologist.” His tone is biting. Bdubs hears it.

“Etho,” he scolds. And it’s just that. Just his name, and Etho feels ashamed and smaller. He breaks eye contact. Bdubs sighs and continues: “He’s worried about you.”

Oh, screw Impulse and his perfect boyfriend attitude. Etho will punch him in the face next time he sees him.

“I know what’s happening, Ladders,” Bdubs continues, and Etho snorts, almost despite himself.

“Somehow, I very much doubt that.”

Because Bdubs is in tune with people’s feelings, and he is a very observant person, but Etho has loved him in silence for years, has spent all of this time by his side, and Bdubs has never said a thing.

So he feels perfectly allowed to be skeptical.

“You’re jealous,” Bdubs says, and Etho forgets how to breathe.

“Pardon?”

“Etho.” Bdubs’s tone is stern, his expression firm, asking – demanding – that he not play dumb. Etho stays quiet.

What is he meant to say to that, when it is the pure truth? Deny and anger Bdubs? Admit and ruin their friendship?

He stays quiet. Bdubs sighs. “Listen, I- I get it, okay?”

“Do you?” Etho seriously doubts it.

Bdubs nods frankly, his eyes not leaving Etho’s. “I do!” he swears. And then: “Listen, I love Impulse, I really do.”

And these words are enough for Etho to immediately look away. He knew it, he knows it, Impulse told him, but that doesn’t make it any easier to hear. He cannot muster a smile. “Good,” he says, forcing the sound out. His throat feels raw. “I’m really happy for you. He’s a swell guy.”

‘I want to punch him,’ he doesn’t say. ‘I want to kiss you,’ he doesn’t say. ‘I want to be alone,’ he doesn’t say. He looks at Joel still joking around with Jimmy and Grian, desperately trying to communicate with his soulmate that he wants them to leave, right now. He pinches his arm, hard, and Joel jumps and his head snaps toward him, looking alert and worried. His expression changes as soon as he notices that Etho is speaking with Bdubs, though. Concern morphs into relief. Instead of being a good friend and coming to Etho’s rescue, Joel relaxes. And then pinches Etho back, smirking.

What the heck.

“Etho, are you listening to me?” Bdubs is close. So close. Too close. When did he get so close to him? Etho feels a little suffocated. He takes a step back before he can do something he’d regret (cup Bdubs’s face in his hands and kiss him until he forgets his soulmate’s name).

“Yeah, yeah, I am,” he confirms despite having absolutely no idea what Bdubs just told him.

Bdubs looks at him, something like fond amusement in his eyes. He is not duped, and maybe this is why Etho loves him so much.

Because Bdubs knows him.

And he knows Bdubs.

Or at least he thought so, because, when Bdubs continues speaking, the tentativeness, patience, and tenderness of his voice is not one Etho ever heard before: “Impulse said he’d be okay,” he whispers, “if I wanted an open relationship.”

Impulse said-

He-

Etho is-

What?

Etho breathes out, something shaky and uneven, and he looks at Bdubs. “What?”

“An open relationship,” Bdubs repeats. “Like- I would still be dating him, but he’d be okay with me seeing other people too.”

Etho feels like he might be having a stroke. This-

None of this makes sense.

“So you’d be dating two people at once?”

Bdubs looks a bit flustered. “Yeah? I mean, Impulse is okay with it. He isn’t really the jealous type, and he knows that I love him, so…” He shrugs. “But we don’t have to do anything if you’re not comfortable, of course, I just wanted-”

What.

What.

What?

“We?” His question sounds like a croak more than a normal interrogation uttered by a human being. It would make Bdubs laugh, normally. Bdubs doesn’t laugh.

“Well, if you’re comfortable with it,” Bdubs says. “If you don’t want to, it’s fine. We can- Well, you’ll always be one of my best friends. But I did want you to-”

“Wait,” Etho raises an arm, and Bdubs, almost unbelievably, stops blabbering. “I think- I do think I wasn’t listening,” he admits. “I missed something. You said-?”

He doesn’t continue, doesn’t say it. He is afraid of misinterpreting what Bdubs is saying.

What if this is a terrible miscommunication and Etho thinks he can have more than what Bdubs is willing to give and he ruins something?

“I know you’re jealous,” Bdubs tells him. “You’re not- You’re really not subtle, Ladders.”

That gets a snort out of him. “Hey,” he retorts. “I resent that, actually.”

“No, really!” Bdubs insists. “I know you’re jealous. And I just want to let you know. If you wanted to try, we could-…” He trails off. “You are jealous, right? I’m not seeing things?”

And right now-

Right now, Etho could pretend.

Right now, Etho could lie, and Bdubs would let him, and they would stay friends, and nothing would change.

He feels a sharp pain on his arm and looks up to see Joel pinching himself and glaring daggers at him. ‘Do. It.’ He mouthes, and Etho thinks vaguely about the benefits of killing his soulmate.

“And what…” His lips feel dry. “What would that entail?”

Bdubs smiles at that, the smile of someone who knows that he is going to get what he wants, the smile of someone who already won. “So you are jealous.”

Etho swallows thickly. “Nah,” he replies. “I’m not the type.”

Bdubs laughs, loud and boisterous, and it feels as if everyone turns to look at them. Impulse does, interrupting his conversation with Tango to look inquisitively in their direction.

Etho childishly waits until Impulse has looked away before replying. “What if I am?”

Bdubs’s winning smile widens and he comes closer – too close for a normal conversation between two friends. “You don’t have to be,” he murmurs, and the lower voice makes all of this so much more intimate, and Etho finds himself unable to look away.

“No?”

“No,” Bdubs confirms. “If you want- Etho, if this is what you want-” He swallows, and Etho’s eyes latch on his throat, on the way it bobs, and he feels breathless. “This is what you want, right?”

There are no words left that Etho can utter. All he can do is nod his head jerkily, completely captivated by the light in Bdubs’s eyes.

He feels like he might have forgotten how to breathe. He feels a bit lightheaded, a bit like-

“That’s what I want to,” Bdubs murmurs. “So-”

Etho kisses him.

And maybe Etho had always thought himself a patient, detached man, but, right now, he doesn’t care if he is impulsive and jealous. Right now, Bdubs’s lips against his taste right, and this is all that matters.

He doesn’t care about the fact that other people could see, about potentially changing their relationship forever. All that matters is that Bdubs is wrapping his arms around his neck, that he is leaning into Etho’s touch, that, right now, he is Etho’s.

He feels like he can breathe again, like a weight is taken off his shoulder, and he doesn’t realize that he is smiling until Bdubs is grinning against his lips, his laugh disturbing their kiss. He pulls away, and his lips are red and kissed, and he is only looking at Etho, smiling at him, and Etho feels a surge of emotions he cannot name and he keeps his hands on Bdubs’s hips, refusing to let go (not right now).

Bdubs grins cheekily at him. “Hey, if this is what I get for making you jealous, I’ll- hmph-” His tease is swallowed when Etho kisses him again, and his attempt at a protest is replaced by a happy giggle against Etho’s lips.

And later, when the novelty of kissing wears off, when Etho feels more certain that this is not a terrible joke, that Bdubs is serious (that Impulse is serious), they sit down and talk, their hands clasped together. They speak, and they set rules, and they speak about long-held feelings, and they smile, and they kiss.

And when Impulse comes to kiss Bdubs goodnight, he smiles at Etho with understanding, warmth, and kindness, in his eyes. And Etho wishes him goodnight, and he remains there, holding Bdubs’s hand, feeling more satisfied, more at peace than he has in weeks.

And he tells himself that maybe, just maybe, he might have misjudged Impulse.

But maybe things turned out all right anyway.