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Superfish helps a weakened DJ onto the couch, his heart hammering frantically in his chest. The other boy doesn’t look too good, his vision going in and out of focus, and the wound on the side of his head dripping crimson onto his white t-shirt. Superfish's grip on his wrist is tight, and he has to remind himself to loosen up so that he can feel for a pulse. Their mission had been, to say the least, unsuccessful. Toppleprey's goons had intercepted them on the way to the next ingredient, and now DJ was bleeding out and they were no closer to brewing the potion.
There had been a time where Superfish might have decided to let him die. It would sure have made things easier for him then. Now, witch core be damned, nothing is more important to Superfish than keeping DJ alive. After DJ, there would be no returning to the way things were, despite what he tries to say. He could wipe DJ's memory and send him back to his peaceful life, but Superfish would never forget him. It keeps him up at night, thinking of their not-so-distant future.
But now, he needs to focus on the present, or their story will end way before it's supposed to.
“Stay with me now, DJ. Can you hear me? You’re bleeding really badly.” Superfish curses and passes his fingers over the dripping cut on his head, trying to be soft, but his panic overrides his capability to do so. He doesn’t have time to take it slow. If DJ dies like this, it'll be all his fault. He finds himself murmuring to help calm himself down. “This is why I didn’t want you to come with me, you know. I knew you’d go and get yourself hurt.”
Redirecting the blame doesn't help much. DJ winces at the contact of his fingers and the searing hot pain of the spell, his jaw tightening as he gives Superfish a weak glare. “If I didn’t, you could have died.”
At least he’s responsive, despite his words lacking their usual bite. A bit of Superfish's panic fades as DJ's shallow breathing starts to deepen and get steadier.
“I’m me. I would have been fine.” Superfish snaps brusquely, now attending to the wound on his shoulder. “You, however, are not me, and could have ended up a lot worse than this.”
For a moment, it looks like DJ’s about to retort, but he suddenly jolts when Superfish’s fingers brush against his skin. “Ack! Could you at least try to be gentle?”
"Sorry." Superfish tsks, paying him no heed. If he doesn’t hurry up, he’ll bleed out. There isn’t time for gentle. “So damn fragile.”
“Don’t say that. Just makes me feel worse.” DJ turns his head to the opposite side, hiding his expression into his other, unwounded shoulder. “Just fix it and go, please.”
Superfish's magic stitches up the worst of the gash, and he exhales with relief when some of the color starts to return to DJ's face. Belatedly registering his words, Superfish steps back in surprise. DJ always ends up asking him to stay after difficult encounters. One way or another, they end up staying in each other's abodes, some nights closer than others. He’d thought that after a night like this, DJ might even ask Superfish to share his bed. “You don’t want me to stay?”
DJ huffs, still looking away. “I’ve clearly bothered you enough, so no.”
“What makes you say that?” Superfish pouts, confused by his reaction. He still doesn't really understand human customs, but he hadn't said anything insulting, had he? His question seems to set something off in the other boy, whose whole body tenses in response.
“Are you serious? Fuck off, Superfish.” His tone is so sharp that it cuts something in Superfish’s throat, rendering him unable to reply. Despite all of their arguments, DJ has never spoken to him like that before. He must have really fucked up. At the silence, DJ finally turns to look at him again, an apology in his soft brown eyes. “Sorry. That was mean, especially after you saved my life. Thank you." He gingerly lifts his arm, bracing himself for a pain that doesn't come, and seems relieved when he sets his hand on Superfish's shoulder. "Did you want to stay?”
Of course I do, Superfish thinks, but he won’t say that out loud. After all, what he wants doesn’t matter. “Not if you’d rather be alone.”
DJ squeezes his shoulder and swallows, something unfamiliar shifting behind his eyes as he averts his gaze. “I think I would.”
“Okay.” It pains Superfish to say it, but his top priority is making sure DJ is rested and comfortable. If he won’t be either of those things with Superfish there, then he shouldn’t stay. “That’s fine. Get your rest, then." He stands to go, but his body refuses to move. "Do you want food? Tea?" Anything that gives me a reason to stay longer?
But DJ just shakes his head, giving Superfish a crooked smile. "I'm alright, Fishface. I just need to sleep."
Superfish's chest squeezes then, and he preoccupies himself with analyzing DJ's features to make sure that his body is healing properly. Already he seems less weak, and his blood is replenishing itself. Despite the direness of his injuries, Superfish's magic had done the trick. There's no reason for him to have to stay and supervise him, other than his selfish desire to do so.
So he sighs, deciding he's probably overstayed his welcome. "Alright. But you should stay home tomorrow. I’ll take notes for you.”
DJ makes an incredulous face at him. “Do you even own a notebook?”
“Technicalities.” Superfish jokes, albeit hollowly, as he walks toward the door. “Goodnight, DJ.”
Before he leaves, he casts a quick spell to remove all of the blood from the living room, then closes the door behind him. It’s late when he steps out into the night, cold air whistling past his face before he even sits on his Vespa. The ride back is quiet, very few people out on the street at this hour. Superfish finds himself grateful. He’s too preoccupied to deal with anything else right now.
Superfish’s sole mission was to recapture the core. Was being the operative word, because now his goals are a little broader than that. It's morphed into "recapture the core while keeping DJ safe (because he holds the core) and looking after him (because despite his best efforts, he’s gotten attached)." On one hand, he can’t wait for this ordeal to be over with so that DJ will finally be safe. On the other, the closer they get to brewing this potion, the more Superfish is dreading having to leave.
He’s gotten quite accustomed to going to human school, eating human food, and breathing human air, and wasn’t quite ready to let it go. Not to mention, whatever relationship he had with DJ is always at the front of his mind. He doesn't want to leave until he sees it through, even though he has no idea what “seeing it through” really means. Their fight tonight wasn’t unusual, though they typically ended in a resolution. This time, Superfish feels like his exit hadn’t really helped anything at all. DJ almost always says what he means, with a naively honest disposition that makes his body language easy to read too. But tonight, Superfish couldn’t understand him. He only hopes that DJ will take tomorrow to recuperate, and after he’s feeling well again, might talk to Superfish about his weird behavior.
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Imagine his surprise when he finds DJ at the school gate, talking to Georgie with his backpack slung over his shoulder. His uniform seems to be in greater disarray than usual, and he sways a little bit while standing — he must not have slept well.
“Hey, DJ!” Superfish clamps a hand on the boy’s shoulder, steadying him. “Surprised to see you here.”
DJ has the audacity to shoot him a glare. It would have been effective if it weren’t for the deep bags beneath his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Superfish gives Georgie a polite nod before tugging DJ away. “Let’s have a chat, shall we?"
Superfish pulls him to a more secluded spot by the school, close to the bike racks. It isn’t weird for people to see them talking together, but Superfish doesn’t want to be interrupted by anyone, right now. He fights to keep the concern out of his expression, not wanting DJ to feel like he's fussing over him when he very evidently is.
He begins by driving a finger into DJ’s chest with a frown. “You almost died last night multiple times. I told you to stay home.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m fine.” DJ’s tawny hand grips Superfish’s pale one with surprising strength and moves it aside. “I can’t miss school for no reason. I need to keep my grades up.”
Superfish scoffs. “You humans have such bizarre priorities.”
DJ raises an eyebrow in curiosity, now crossing his arms.“You didn’t have midterms at witch school?”
“Of course we did, but our midterms had actual life or death stakes. Not a red letter on a piece of paper.” Superfish waves a hand flippantly. Seriously, he’ll never understand why human students get so competitive over things like GPA or letter grades. When he was in school, he was trying not to get murked. He lifts his pointer finger toward the sky, letting some of his magic spark off from it. “If it matters that much to you, I could just fake it-”
“That defeats the whole point!” DJ rolls his eyes and tugs Superfish’s hand down by the sleeve, hastily looking around to make sure nobody had seen. “You don’t get it, Superfish.”
Superfish tilts his head, baffled. “Get what?”
“Humans. Me. I don’t know. I forget we’re worlds apart, sometimes.” DJ throws his hands up in the air before massaging his temples. “A D may not be the end of your world, but it could be the end of mine. Once we get this thing out of me and you go back to your life, I’ll have to go back to mine, too. That involves passing school so I can work, or if I’m really lucky, getting a full ride so I can go to university.” Now, DJ jabs a finger into his chest, brows knitted together on his face. His expression is in high definition because of how much closer he gets with the action. Superfish goes a little cross-eyed trying to look at him. “Do you see that, now? You were right. We aren’t the same.”
As if just realizing how they’re mere inches apart, DJ steps backward as though he’d been burned and turns away. “Whatever. I’ll see you inside.”
For a few seconds, all Superfish can do is stand there dumbly, staring after him. DJ is pissed at him, and he still doesn't know why. He'd meant what he said last night: He and DJ come from different worlds, and DJ isn't equipped to fight in Superfish's. But that's just a fact. Had DJ taken it as an insult to his strength? Knowing DJ, probably. On the bright side, it's good that he recognizes these disparities now. It'll make separating easier, as much as Superfish doesn't want to do it.
After coming to his senses, Superfish goes to chase after him, but gets caught up in a crowd of girls trying to get his attention. They’re all wearing very strong but very different perfumes, and he has to try not to breathe in too hard to avoid the assault of chemical fragrance as he makes excuses to bypass them.
Once he finds DJ again, he’s helping another boy off the ground. Superfish is fairly certain that he has never seen him before. The pile of papers scattered around suggest that they had bumped into each other.
“I’m so sorry.” DJ is saying, his face flushed red and his big brown eyes full of worry. The stranger waves it off, laughing softly. His voice is smooth and deep. He’s tall, slightly taller than DJ, and his hair is long and dark, cascading gracefully down his back. A multitude of silver accessories adorn his face, neck, ears, and fingers, and his uniform tie is loose around the collar.
“No, it’s my fault for standing around like an idiot.” As he waves, Superfish notices his fingernails are painted black. “I’m Jason. I’m new.”
DJ’s worried expression softens into a relieved smile as he extends his hand. “My friends call me DJ.”
“DJ, huh?” Jason takes it gently, and instead of shaking it, raises it to his lips with a wink. “Cute.”
Superfish’s chest seizes. DJ’s face has gone bright red now, his blush extending to the tips of his ears. Jason doesn’t comment on it — if anything, he seems pleased. “What’s your homeroom? If I’m lucky, we might be in the same one.”
Superfish has experienced enough of this to know it firsthand. Jason, some rando, is flirting with DJ. They’d literally just met, and the new guy is hitting on him! Superfish doesn’t understand why, but this makes him unfathomably angry.
It’s not that he doesn’t get it — after all, DJ is cute, with his persistent bedhead and deep, coppery skin that practically glows in certain lighting. His unassuming, brown eyes make even Superfish melt at the most unexpected of times. He’s so kind, always volunteering to help others when they need it and being so supportive to everyone lucky enough to call him a friend. He’s funny, always prepared with a quick-witted comeback, and resourceful enough to depend on in a brawl. His quick thinking has already gotten the both of them out of more pickles than Superfish could count. And that’s not even to mention the sound of his laugh, the way his eyes sometime sparkle with mischief, the way he hums along to his music, how he touches Superfish with such familiarity and ease that it ignites invisible sparks across the witch’s skin. In that way, DJ does have magic of his own.
In the last month of knowing him, Superfish has quickly come to admire everything about him, to the point where it confused him that other people didn’t see him the same way. But this new Jason guy couldn’t know all that — why wasn’t he like everyone else at this damn school?
“And I’m Sebastian, by the way.”
Superfish’s feet seem to move by themselves as he comes to stand between the two of them. Both boys turn to look at him, but he’s only looking at DJ, who seems exasperated.
“Cool.” Jason nods at him politely before turning his far too adoring gaze back to DJ. “Do you know him?”
DJ grimaces at Superfish before turning to the newcomer. “Yeah. He’s, ah,” he glances cautiously back at Superfish before venturing, “a friend. Who’s also in my homeroom. He just transferred in too.”
Superfish feels weird about the way he'd paused. They are friends, aren't they? Maybe there isn't a word to articulate what exactly they are. Acquaintances doesn't cut it, but friends are what DJ and the occult club are to each other. They've all known each other for years now. Superfish had only just appeared in DJ's life a month ago, but already he felt like his and DJ's lives were thoroughly entwined. They'd saved each other from certain death numerous times. Something about that was more intimate than a friendship.
Jason regards him with calculated interest, from his heeled shoes to his vibrantly turquoise hair. “Did you now? From where?”
Superfish has half a mind to say he’d come straight from hell to kick his ass, but DJ butts in before he gets the chance.
“Seattle.” DJ replies for him, stooping down to pick up a piece of paper by his feet. “Anyway, looks like you’re 4A too. We can walk you there.”
Jason smiles appreciatively, flashing two rows of perfect, white teeth. “You’re the best, DJ.”
As soon as they arrive, Jason gets swept up by a crowd of their classmates, finally giving Superfish the chance to talk to DJ again. He pulls DJ back to their corner, setting his own bag on his chair. He’d even brought a notebook this time, prepared to take notes for his overly stubborn friend that decided to show up anyway. Much to his chagrin, Superfish realizes that the other boy is still staring carefully at Jason with something like interest. Superfish doesn't like it. He moves quickly to stand beside him, shoving his hands in his pockets so he doesn't do something stupid, like touch him.
“Seattle? What’s a Seattle?” He murmurs just beside DJ's ear, trying to get his attention.
DJ’s focus doesn’t shift, still glued to the new guy. “It’s a city in Washington.”
Superfish frowns. “What’s a Washing-”
“What’s up with you?” DJ finally rounds on him, putting space between them once more. “You’ve been acting really weird. Is Jason another witch?”
“No. I’d be able to tell if he was.” Superfish bites his cheek to control his expression as he watches the new guy get fawned over the same way he had when he first arrived. Good riddance, honestly. He's glad someone else has captured their attention. (If only he hadn't caught DJ's too.) “Could be a low-grade werewolf maybe, or a vampire.”
“With those piercings?” DJ smirks like the idea is ridiculous. “I thought both of those had aversions to silver.”
He follows DJ's gaze as it travels up and down the new guy and, holy shit, is he checking him out?! Superfish thinks back to when Eugene was trying to pester DJ about his type. He'd been interested to hear his answer, but DJ had skirted around it and never given a proper response. Come to think of it, Superfish has never seen him look at a girl that way. Is Jason DJ's type? Why does the idea of that make him want to tear the guy in half?
“Where do you humans come up with these things?” Superfish scoffs at the bizarre notion, fighting desperately to keep his violent thoughts at bay. Seriously, what's wrong with him? “I’ll keep an eye on him. Just be careful.”
When class begins, Jason goes up to introduce himself. Their new teacher (Superfish still doesn't know what happened to the old one) doesn’t make a fuss about his piercings but does scold him about the way he's wearing his uniform. Jason accepts the criticism gracefully and doesn’t seem affected by all of the excited whispers in the classroom.
Their teacher nods when he finishes and gestures toward the back corner. “You can take the empty spot in the back, next to Dhananjay.”
Superfish balks as he looks at the desk diagonal from him. Since when had that seat even been open?! He could swear somebody sat there just last week!
Then again, the only one he ever paid attention to was DJ. . .
“Sounds good to me,” says Jason, practically gliding over with the ease and confidence of a dark, handsome swan.
DJ offers a shy wave, and Jason responds with a delighted smile.
Superfish wants to explode him with his mind.
He wishes he had a reason to do so, but despite double and triple checking, Jason seems to be totally normal. Some of the creatures from Superfish's world can be hard to spot, especially with a good disguise, so he'll just have to wait for the guy to slip up. That is, if he isn't human.
When the new guy sits down, he’s at an angle where Superfish can see about a quarter of his face — enough to notice how his quizzical, ice blue eyes slide over to DJ all throughout class, watching the other boy diligently take notes and occasionally doodle in the margins of his notebook. Not once does Jason look behind himself, so he either doesn’t see the way Superfish is staring daggers into the side of his head, or he doesn’t care.
By the time lunch comes around, Superfish’s hands have become balled fists in his lap. He’d given up trying to understand human trigonometry weeks ago, so he’d spent the whole lesson paying close attention to the way that Jason was eyeing DJ up and down, practically undressing him with his eyes. It was different from the way Toppleprey's hitmen would look at him. It wasn’t like a predator looking at his prey, or even like someone sizing up their opponent. It was more like an appraiser admiring a particularly interesting painting, picking apart all of its elements to understand the deeper meaning. Jason seemed fascinated, and DJ remained blissfully oblivious the entire time.
Now, the lot of them are sitting outside, DJ easily introducing Jason to the occult club, though there isn’t much chatter. The other members of the occult club are studying for their midterms, and DJ joins them with little argument. Even though he just got here, Jason also allegedly has to take midterms, and seems to be speedrunning the entire mathematics course to catch up.
Superfish is bored out of his mind, but not bored enough to pretend to care about the nonmagical properties of triangles, so he instead takes to bothering DJ. He moves from his spot lounging on a nearby bench and sits directly beside him at the table, biting noisily into an apple and leaning his head on DJ’s shoulder.
“How’s it going?” He asks with his mouth full.
DJ flicks him in the cheek. A reprimand, but a gentle one. “Don’t chew so loudly, I’m concentrating.”
“I thought lunchtime was for eating.” Superfish pouts, continuing to chew noisily.
“I already ate. I’m using the extra time to review.” DJ's foot kicks his ankle under the table, a touch secret only to them. Superfish doesn't know why it makes his head feel so fuzzy. “It’s your fault I’m behind anyway.”
He smiles, taking another bite of his apple. “Oh? Am I too distracting for you?”
“You’re distracting for everyone, actually.”
DJ and Superfish look up, their little bubble burst by the long-haired boy in front of them. Jason twirls his pen expertly between his fingers, his expression polite but clearly miffed as he regards Superfish.
Superfish smirks. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Sure, but we can still hear you.” Jason replies matter-of-factly. “You aren’t worried about midterms?”
“Nah. That shit will be a breeze.” In reality, he doesn’t even know if he’ll still be here for them. Glancing around at the others, he makes a big show of yawning and stretching out his arms. “I think you’re all too worked up. They aren’t even for another two weeks, anyway. Don’t you guys have more important things going on in your lives?”
"Seb," DJ chides, kicking him under the table again, more urgently this time. "Just drop it, alright?"
Dutifully, Superfish shuts up, and DJ goes back to work. Something seems to click in Jason’s mind. He looks at DJ, then back to Superfish. He raises an eyebrow, then looks back at DJ. Slowly, he peels his eyes away to look once more at Superfish, a smirk growing on his face. Superfish’s lips curl into a snarl, and something wicked glints in Jason’s eye.
“Hey, DJ.” Jason says suddenly. “I’m struggling a lot with this problem. You’re good at trig, right? You think you could walk me through it?”
“Yeah, sure thing. Let me see.” Much to Superfish’s ire, DJ stands and moves around the table, leaving Superfish with no human support to lean against. From the other side, Superfish watches as DJ leans down so his face is just beside Jason’s, squinting at the page. “Oh, yeah, that one’s tricky. You have to use the inverse of the tangent to get that angle, which I can show you.”
He points to some of the angles Jason had drawn as he explains, but it doesn’t matter. Jason isn’t looking at his hands. Rather, he’s gone back to watching DJ’s face, his eyes drawn like magnets to his lips. He glances at Superfish again, now sporting a shit-eating grin. Superfish has started squeezing the apple so hard that juice is dripping down his wrist. Fucking shameless.
“Oh, right. I completely forgot about that.” Jason laughs sheepishly when DJ's explanation ends, the farce so painfully obvious only to Superfish. His lithe, decorated hand lifts to rest on DJ’s bicep, giving it a flirtatious squeeze. “You’re so smart, DJ. Think you could tutor me?”
This time, the apple explodes, sending guts and seeds flying everywhere. Everyone sitting at the table ducks for cover, except for Jason and Superfish, who are currently locked into a staredown.
“Woah, Sebastian, what-” Eugene starts to ask, but Superfish doesn’t hear him.
“He has a lot of commitments already.” He says, glaring at Jason from across the table with a thin smile on his lips. His poorly disguised sneer doesn’t go unnoticed, and the rest of the occult club goes back to minding their business, wary of getting in the crossfire. DJ looks alarmed, now standing up straight again, but Superfish isn’t paying him any mind. He’s added a new item to his list of goals — destroy Jason.
“Really? Like what?” Jason's tone is innocent enough, but Superfish understands it as a challenge.
He crosses his arms stubbornly. “Like occult club, and school, and, well, you know. The friends that he already has.”
DJ clears his throat, surprising them both as both boys turn to look at him. In his irritation, Superfish had forgotten that DJ is stubborn, and being so stubborn often means that he doesn’t like being spoken for, either.
“I have plenty of time, Sebastian, thank you for your concern.” It seems polite on the surface, but there’s a hint of finality in his voice that dictates that the conversation is over. He smooths over his expression before looking down at Jason again. “We can meet today after school if you want. My schedule is clear.”
Jason practically melts under his gaze. Superfish feels sickened. “I’d love that. You’re a life saver, DJ.”
DJ doesn’t talk to Superfish for the rest of lunch, nor before or during class. He’d tried to slip him notes, but every one he flicks over either ends up unread or hitting the girl who sits in front of DJ in the back of the head. Once the last bell rings, Superfish tries to get his attention again, but is immediately surrounded by the same group of girls that had crowded him earlier. When he finally manages to escape, he hunts DJ down by the entrance, chasing after him before he could go too far.
“DJ-”
“What.” It isn’t a question, and Superfish can hear the annoyance in his voice. It almost makes him pause. Almost.
“Can you just slow down for a second?” Superfish exhales, hating how desperate he sounds.
DJ slows his pace, but only slightly, glaring at Superfish with suspicion written all over his features. “Why?”
“I need to talk to you.” Superfish reaches for his shoulder, then thinks better of it. He doesn’t need another reason to set DJ off by touching him when he probably isn’t welcome. “I don’t like the new guy.”
DJ bites his cheek, pausing in his tracks. “Why not? Is he from your world?”
“I don’t think so, but-”
DJ scoffs, starting to walk faster again. “So then what’s your problem?”
“You don’t see it? He’s literally all over you!” Superfish matches his stride. He deepens his voice mockingly, practically oozing with spite. “You’re the best, DJ, you’re so clever, DJ, please just let me put it in my mouth, DJ-”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Did Eugene teach you that?!” The tips of DJ’s ears go bright red again, but now he’s not just embarrassed. He’s angry. “It’s not like that, and even if it was, isn't that what your fan club does every day?” DJ jerks a thumb back toward the school building, his jaw tight. “Does it bother you that much that someone likes me?”
Before he can think better of it, Superfish grabs both of his shoulders, forcing DJ to face him. “I like you, you moron!”
A pause hovers in the air between them. DJ seems surprised for all of three seconds, searching for clarity in Superfish's eyes before his expression clouds over. “Yeah? Well you’ve sure got an odd way of showing it.”
Superfish practically shuts down when DJ pushes him away, doing his best impression of a fish by opening and closing his mouth wordlessly. DJ just continues to storm off toward the parking lot. However, he’s walking in the opposite direction of Superfish’s Vespa. He always parks it in the same place, so it’s not like he could be confused. Panic flares up in Superfish's chest, snapping him out of his stupor.
“Where are you going? At least let me take you home!” He calls after him.
DJ glances over his shoulder and waves a hand, his expression uncharacteristically hard to read. “Don’t worry about it. Jason said he’d give me a ride.”
Superfish’s heart sinks. As though on cue, a growling noise grows louder as a helmeted figure circles the lot on a sleek, black motorcycle. He pulls up to the curb and removes his helmet, shaking out his silky black hair and passing the helmet to DJ.
“Ready?” Jason asks. He doesn’t even look at Superfish, but the witch knows he must be pretty damn smug right now.
“Yeah, let’s go.” DJ glances back at him once before settling himself behind Jason on his bike. He fits his hands over the other boy’s broad shoulders and Superfish watches, brokenhearted, as the pair of them drive off on Jason’s motorcycle.
“They look pretty good together.” A voice beside him pipes up. “Don’t you think?”
Superfish turns to look at who had spoken. It's some tall blonde girl that he swears he's never seen before either.
“No. Definitely not.” Superfish squints at her. “Who even are you?”
“Sarah? I’m in your class.” When he gives no indication of recognition, she scoffs and rolls her eyes, turning on her heel. “Whatever. I tried.”
Despite himself, Sarah's words piss him off for the rest of the day. He's still seething by the time he gets back to his house. They look pretty good together, don't you think? No, Sarah, he looks much better with me, and you should never be allowed to have an opinion again. He slams the door a little harder than necessary and redirects his energy toward finding something to distract himself with. He puts a romcom in the DVD player of his old school TV. He finds them entertaining enough, and hopes that it will distract him from the growing void in his stomach. However, seeing the happy couple only seems to make him more miserable. Their meet-cute involved running into reach other outside a cafe, and Superfish spends the whole time picturing them as DJ and Jason. He turns off the TV fifteen minutes in and goes to take a shower.
As he's standing under the boiling hot water, he can't help but be mad at himself for being mad. He knows that dating is something humans do that makes them happy, and he'd be a terrible friend if he didn't want DJ to be happy. There was no mistaking DJ's interest in the new guy earlier, and if Jason is a perfectly normal human, who is Superfish to try and stop them? Yet he hates even thinking of DJ and Jason as a "them," and scrubs excessively hard at his skin as though it will cleanse the notion away.
He's engaged with enough human media to vaguely grasp the appeal of human romance. At first, Superfish had found the whole idea rather stupid. He couldn't fathom why you would let someone in close enough to destroy you. Witches don't do things like that, preferring to keep the extent of their closeness to strategic partnerships to ensure their own safety. But the more he stood there under the showerhead, the more he found himself imagining those things with DJ, and the more he started to understand it. He wouldn't be letting just anyone in, he'd be letting DJ in, whom he already trusts and admires. It would be DJ's hand he could grasp whenever he felt like it, DJ's arms that would wrap around his body at night, DJ's lips he'd kiss whenever given the opportunity.
Because if given the opportunity, he quickly realizes, he would. The idea makes his stomach swoop like he'd dropped from the sky. Perhaps that's why they call it falling.
Oh, that's it then. He shuts the water off, his head suddenly startlingly clear as his jumbled thoughts arrange themselves into a simple conclusion. He's falling for DJ.
With that jolting realization comes the immediate desire to do something about it, and Superfish makes it all the way downstairs with his towel still on before he even realizes what he's doing. He'd started to dial DJ's number, only to snap out of it when he realized he had no idea what he would say. Should he just tell him? That wouldn't be wise. He's painfully reminded that DJ is presumably alone with a guy that he's actually into right now, and that would be terrible timing for a confession, or whatever he was about to do. Even Superfish knows that romance is a reciprocal thing. There's no point in making his feelings known if DJ doesn't feel the same. In fact, from what he understands, if Superfish were to say anything, he could ruin it all. He rejects the girls who come up to him at school all the time, but he doesn't think he could handle a rejection from DJ.
Things are already delicate between them: Some days are a dream, like their mission for the therabeetles. Others, like today and yesterday, are particularly nightmarish. Usually, though, it's more good than bad, and Superfish would be a fool to destroy that. The best way to keep that balance safe is to leave things as they are. He'll settle for quick touches and private moments if it means he gets to keep DJ in his life for as long as he can. Even if they are just friends.
His hand hovers for a long time over the phone, but he ultimately decides not to call.
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