Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Starlight city...



THE PLACE NOBODY WANTS TO FUCKING BE!!!


"I'm starting to miss Tastyville..." Chuck grumbled as water was splashed on him, the equivalent of New York and fucked-up vegas.



They've got everything! flashing neon lights, the best clubs, and Papa's Wingeria, the place Chuck was unfortunate enough to work at for about a goddamn year. He was ripped off by a harlot by the name of Papa Louie... that deadbeat  of an arsehole.


Though he had mixed feelings about the guy, he seemed hell-bent on running his 'Empire' he says. Papa's location in every place he visits.


Well, at first he was at the casino pressing that button making that dough, and then suddenly he wins. To work at a wingeria, at first he thought it was a money laundering business, but it was whatever lol. And then when those tips started rolling in, it was like heaven. And the porn pizza guy (papalouie) even got him a place with his roommate.

Taylor.


He hasn't seen that guy in a year and a half. Did he move out? still that basement dweller of a guy? They've been friends since high school! He remembers it now. They got paired up for a project once; he was scared to talk to the guy because... Taylor didn't look too friendly.

Those crazy short freeforms, that same blue scruffed-up hoodie and sweatpants, and that dark humor attitude—it's only been a year and a half. sense they had seen each other, but then again, they were the best of friends. promising each other that they won't be strangers no matter what happens.

. He walked down the stairs, wiping the dirty grime off his Hawaiian shirt. Bag slung around his shoulder, as he headed downstairs into the train station, he had gotten a vacation from the joint. fucking finally. All he wanted to do was go back to his hometown. check up on his family  and friends. How much could change?

⌜----- 🎮 ✧ ----- ⌝




"YOU FUCKING DUMBASS." Taylor roared at his buddy Alberto through the screen, the tapping of his controller filling the room, crouched over slightly, his elbows on his knees.



"Oh my fucking god. how are you this stupid?!" His hand went up to grip the mic, speaking louder into it.



He sat back on his gaming chair with a sigh. rubbing his eyes. damn how long has he been at this? he cleared his throat, leaning back into the mic. "Yo albert, im about to go get something to eat say hey too penny for me." He snickered, adding that light tease at the end. A disinterested audio came from the other end. Damn, was his mouth in the mic? Albert was on the tapping awhile; Penny was on his bed endlessly scrolling after getting her guts rearranged not too long ago. ["Ayo br- *buzz,* shut your bitch assbitch ass up dud-"]



Ah... newly coupled couples (???) are the best to troll.



Taylor got up from his chair with a grunt. Ah yes, 5 hours of Call of Duty was good for the soul, kicking off his slides, he headed straight for the shower, which his ass never did during highschool. hes.. changed alot.



Splashing himself with some water, he looked up into the mirror. Those freeforms turned into locs. He looked... very different i guess he's just been healthier recently, not a lot of junk food anymore. His hand came up to his forehead, lightly dabbing around his right eyebrow; dammit, his eyebrow piercing was still a bit swollen. but he didn't even know why he was acting like a bitch; it was ten times worse when he got prince albert piercing.



He pulled off his shirt and, discarding his clothes, stepped into the shower, the water burning hot just as he liked it. stepping into the water, drenching his hair and face with a sigh. The emptiness was low-key getting to him. Maybe he should go inline skating later.



He had been living in this apartment for about two years now. One day Chuck had told him he was going to Starlight City, which was pretty bizarre because who would want to willingly go to that shithole? but it was whatever. Some prostitute named Papa Louie said he would pay for the rent, so that was a good pro—he could play games all day, then go work at the Griller Stadium selling hotdogs the size of his dick (no flex).


So yeah!


Selling hotdogs while listening to DJ Honeybear (who was honestly underrated).  whenever he was called in as usual. It wasn't anything to tame, though. Ever since Chuck left Tastyville to work at the prostitutes' money laundering restaurant in Starlight City, it's been pretty lonely, but get that bag i guess. But it's kind of crazy they haven't communicated through the entirety of it. sending small talk texts like 'are you still alive?' or 'doing okay?' but that was really it.



He stepped out of the shower with a sigh. Adam's apple bobbed as his hand ran through his dreadlocks. Looking into the foggy mirror. “Damn, I really hope this doesn’t get infected,” he spoke, his voice kind of raspy from not speaking for a while and yelling at Alberto’s trash ass  through the mic all day.



Stepping out of the bathroom with some sort of condensation sticking to his sun-kissed dark skin, a towel draped around Taylor's shoulders lazily, he didn't put his shirt on and just wore some grey baggy sweatpants.



Plopping down on the couch with a sigh, he looked up at the ceiling for his moment, just trying to take his mind  Things. He reached for the roku remote desperate for some sort of entertainment, flipping through the endless flipatube shorts on his TV like donutball clips, 20v1’s, and laughing at some DJ honeybear funny moments. he really was a diehard fan. Until he pressed the scroll button again; it was a male proposing to another male, which made him avert his eyes just a moment. Just to think.



Wait, why was he even looking at it as whatever? he's not even religious. Anymore. Taylor grew up in a Baptist household, with daily church music and prayers as usual. But he didn't really believe in a goddamn god; he knew that for sure. Because god didn't want you verbally abusing your child everyday. Mom.



But then when he got in school, he was hanging around people he could feel contempt for, like Chuck, Alberto, Nevada, Utah, and Penny. And then Nevada and Utah had gotten together. He didn't feel disgusted, like his brother or mother would. Because why would he? Isn't two being together something he should celebrate? And then he told his mother the great news. She reprimanded him harshly. Put her hands on him in everything. Music and chuck was his only escape.



He’s glad he’s gotten out of the old household, but there are so many ties that hadn’t been severed. Sadly.



Pressing like in the video, he scrolled with a rather stern look on his face.



“OAFMF—” His head snapped towards the door, blinking, hearing a thud right outside his door. Taylor blinked, head snapping toward the door; he slowly stalked up. Taking a hesitant walk towards the door... Hearing a jingle of keys, who? He had never given anyone else his house keys, so who could it be...?



The door swung open.

Chapter Text

"WHAT'S GOOODD BITCHESSS WOO-"

The door busted open, actually almost kicked down, as Chuck roared with amusement, two suitcases and a backpack swung over his shoulder. The deafening noise woke up a baby next door who had the war cry of Kratos himself.

he were estatic i mean who wouldn't be to get to see your fucking friend of 4 years after being apart for a year and a half! I mean, same old, same old, Chuck and Taylor!

But oh, was he not ready.



He blinked. trailing off from his original howl. A Petrified Taylor is holding up a broom as a weapon, eyes still wide because yeah. Who the fuck barges into a house like that?! But the last thing he expected was it to be chuck!




But holy...




HOLY SHEET




God dayum.



Chuck blinked rapidly, just staring at the taller man. Before he opened his stupid fat mouth to speak.




“Who the hell are you?”




A beat.




“EHHH?? What the hell are you talking about, bro? Who the fuck are you?” He slowly lowered the broom. Eyes squinting as he took a step closer. Who was this guy, and how did he have the key to his apartment? And how did he—




They both came to the same revelation at the same goddamn time.




“CHUCK?!”




“TAYLOR?!”



You're telling him this sexily. The dark chocolate man was Taylor, he thought internally. As he felt blood rush to his face, which could easily be mistaken as embarrassment, but oh, was that person wrong.



His eyes just started roaming rapidly like a pervert.


​​

“Chuck, I don't believe it... Seriously, dude?” His voice was breathy and husky at the same time; Taylor dropped the broom. The tension left his shoulders as he grinned.




Chuck blinked out of his daze, his split arched brow coming down as his face came flat.



“That's craaazy! Imagine not remembering your own goddamn friend,” he drawled out just to rub salt on the invisible wound, as he dropped his bags on the ground with a thump.



Their hands clasped together with a  crisp dab up and a tight embrace of bromance. “you still smell the same.” Taylor murmured out. Chuck eyebrow arched as he whispered. ”the fuck are you sniffing me for?” They snorted in unison, heads falling back in barks of laughter.



“You look so…” Chuck started with squinting, but he didn't even need to finish the sentence, "different?" Taylor murmurs, glancing at him. His voice was husky and deep, and it most likely unlocked hormones Chuck didn't even know he had. Nervously chuckling, the blonde nodded. “Yeah, take the words right out of my mouth, dude,” he smirked; the air was tense as you   or awkward. They really didn't know what to say after that.



I mean, he had questions. What had happened over the one year they had been apart? I mean a glow-up? Is that what they called it? But he looked new, and chuck what? He was the same. Same tanned skin and spiky hair with brown, blond, and darker highlights and sideburns. And his same old Hawaiian shirts.



Same old, same old chuck.



“Here, let me help you put your shit up. i.. Still left your room the same.” Taylor mentioned running his hand through his dreadlocks; luckily, he didn’t see Chuck sneakily glance at that hot autistic man.



Effortlessly hauling Chuck's baggage over his shoulder with not even a grunt. “Anywhere, when the hell did you get back?” Taylor asked, glancing back at Chuck as they walked down the narrow apartment hallway, the floorboards creaking under their weight.



Chuck glanced up out of his haze, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he spoke up again, his accent slightly poking out whenever he was nervous. “Uh... I mean! I got back. Today I decided to take a break from my job, you know... In starlight city?”



‘Yeah, I thought you were an intruder, dude! Who just barges into houses like that!” Taylor snickered, tossing it on Chuck's bed, which most definitely needed a sheet;  it smelled like dust, and it's not like he was gone for years!



“I don't know why I'm so nervous, you know, dude—” He trailed off with a nervous chuckle, spilling from his lips as he unzipped his suitcase. “I could tell,” Taylor chimed in, glancing over at the smaller male.



“Huh?” Chuck blinked; he could tell he was  nervous. “I guess it’s because... You treated me like your bitch the whole year you were apart, jackass!” Taylor scowled, kicking him in the shin.



“Ow! Ow! Okay! I'm sorry! I’m sorry!” * He barked out in laughter and evident pain and held his leg; damn, he had one goddamn kick  on him, hopping up and down from the pain. 


“Alright, i will admit that was a jackass move. But i was.. Working!”



Chuck already croaked on his own words, more like blasting his money on clubs and gambling. But... that was a story for another time.



“For some reason i don’t believe that…” Taylor murmured suspiciously, rolling his eyes, arms crossed over his broad chest before spinning on his heel.



“Go in and get settled, and while you’re at it, take a shower; you smell like the subway and vomit.” He pinched his nose. Just to rub salt on the wound, he was just teasing him ofcourse. Like old times.