Work Text:
Mind’s metal rusts.
Mind has a pair of gloves for this express purpose, and wears them everywhere he can. However, the gloves can get damaged, and sometimes they need to be washed. Additionally, a bit of water always soaks through.
The issue is that as Mind’s metal rusts, it becomes harder to operate, and thus harder to clean the rust off - as well as perform basic tasks.
Mind is thirsty, so he goes to the kitchen. He keeps his gloves off. It’s harder to move his fingers with them on, and with the rust in his joints, he already has his work cut out for him. His joints can’t get much worse.
Mind carefully reaches for the tap. With his entire hand, it’s easy enough to turn it on. He grips his mug in both hands and fills it three quarters of the way, farther from the top than he would usually. This way, the chance that some water sloshes over the lip is smaller.
He deliberately places the mug down on the counter and switches the tap off. Next is the hard part - carrying the mug to his room without spilling it. He walks slowly. His palms press against the cup. His fingers refuse to curve around it properly. That’s fine. He squeezes the cup harder.
“(Mind?)”
Mind flinches, his head snapping in the direction of the sound. The cup crashes to the floor. Water soaks Mind’s socks. Mind grits his teeth and asks irritably, “[What is it, Heart?]”
Heart kneels and scoops up a few of the mug shards. “(Just curious what you were doing,)” he says. Mind was walking in the hallway in the house in which they both live. Heart knows this, surely.
“[Nothing,]” Mind weakly defends. “[Let me get that.]”
“(No.)”
“[No?]”
“(You don't have your gloves on, you'll scratch your hands. And if you go get them I’ll be done by the time you come back. I’ll do it.)”
“[They've been scratched before,]” Mind says, lowering himself to cup a few shards in his hands. “[They'll be scratched again.]”
“(It's easier for me to do it.)”
“[It's my responsibility.]” Mind’s brows furrow. “[You don't need to help me out of- what, pity?]”
“(I don't care if that's what you're going to call it. Just get out of the way already.)”
Mind grasps for Heart’s wrist. His fingers don't want to curl around the bone, so Mind’s fingers mostly lay stiff on Heart’s skin. “[Heart,]” he says.
Heart’s wrist slides out of Mind’s hand.
“(Go- wipe the counters or something. I have this. Do you think I’m so irresponsible I can't clean up a mug?)”
“[Do you think I’m so weak-]”
“(Get out of the fucking way, Mind.)” Heart’s tone is stubborn metal.
“[This isn't done, Heart.]”
“(Come to my room, then. Beat me up about it. I don't care, Mind. Just let me clean this up.)”
Mind stands up. The shards are brushed into a mostly-neat pile. Heart works on collecting them into his hands. Purple blood smears on the ceramic and arcs over the ball of Heart’s thumb to drip down the inside of his wrist.
“[I’ll meet you there.]”
On Heart’s desk is a toothbrush, a few handtowels, and a bottle of white vinegar. So that's where it went- usually the vinegar is left near Mind’s room so it's easy to grab. When he finally forces himself to scrub away the rust, his hands don't like gripping things, so they slip and spill. It’s unpleasant.
Heart stole his vinegar. Fun. Why? Did Heart want to trade it for something? Some sort of admission, maybe. Blackmail-
“(Oh, hey.)” Mind turns towards the sound of Heart entering his room. “(I wasn’t sure if you’d show up.)”
Mind’s eye twitches. His knuckles screech and shift as he instinctively tries (and fails, horribly) to ball his hands into fists. “[...What the hell is this about?]”
Heart shrugs. “(Well, I figured you needed some help, is all.)”
Mind swallows the lump in his throat. “[What, is there something you want me to say?]” Mind sets his jaw and steps forward. “[If it’s thanks you’re after, you’re not getting any. I told you I don’t need your pity. The mug-]”
“(I don’t care about the damn mug, okay! Maybe it makes you feel weak, whatever. Maybe you are weak every once in a while! Is that bad?)”
“[Of course it’s bad when I can’t even hold a cup!]”
Mind averts his gaze at the admission - too much. As always Heart said these stupid things until Mind had no choice but to bite back.
“(Oh, sweetheart.)” Heart coos. “(That must be so awful. I bet you spend days laid up in bed, begging for the pain to stop.)” Heart barks a laugh and backs Mind against his bed. “(Is that what you wanted me to say? Well, I’m not showing up to your self-pity party when you refuse even the slightest bit of help.)”
“[It’s not…]”
Mind crosses his arms and turns away. Heart sets a hand on his shoulder. “(So stop being ridiculous, okay?)” He says in a low, coaxing whisper, like he’s comforting a small child. By all means, Mind should punch him.
But - and, oh, the horror - he’s right, isn’t he? Skulking around corners pretending that his hands are actually functional isn’t doing anyone any favors.
“[Fine, but you owe me a week’s worth of dish duty for this.]”
“(I owe you for helping you?)” Heart cracks a little smile. “(You’ll never stop being ridiculous, Mind,)” he says fondly, a giggle sweetening his tone.
If Heart says his name like that, then, maybe-
No, Mind’s not letting Heart fuck up anything more for him. Probably. Maybe. Eyes on the prize, he reminds himself, and sits down on the edge of Heart’s bed. “[Okay. Do what you will.]” Mind resigns himself to placing his hands in Heart’s for a while. At least they’re warm.
“(I’m not gonna hurt you, Mind.)”
“[Whatever you say.]”
It’s not logical to give his hands to Heart if Heart’s going to break them beyond repair. But…
Mind doesn’t think Heart will.
Heart soaks the rags in white vinegar and gestures for Mind’s hands. Straightening Mind’s joints is the only thing he can easily do with them, so it’s not a problem to lay his hands flat in Heart’s.
“(They’ll have to soak for a bit. Half an hour at least. Is that okay?)”
Mind nods. Unfortunately, it’s a lengthy process - at least when Mind can’t do anything with his hands until they’re finished being cleaned. It’d be a waste of time to sit here. They could watch a movie, or -
“(Truth or dare?)” Heart ties the rags around Mind’s fingers and, holding Mind’s wrists tightly, sits down on Mind’s left. They turn to face each other. Are Heart’s fingers soft around his? He can’t know.
Mind sighs. “[Do you really think that’ll go well?]”
Heart leans in and lays his leg on Mind’s lap. “(No, but we should do it anyway.)”
“[You really love to do things that are objectively bad, don’t you?]”
“(Did you just notice?)”
“[I’ve just been paying you the courtesy of not pointing it out until now.]”
Truth or dare. That’s an idea. A bad one. Truth or dare is a bonding activity, and generally bonding activities end up in scorched floorboards. However…
Mind could dare Heart to do anything. It’s a dangerous game, though, because Heart can do the same.
“[Should I start?]”
Heart cocks his head. “(I didn’t know you would go for it. Yeah, sure.)”
Mind hums. Something nice, or this will end up in places Mind doesn’t want to be in- Mind can’t help but laugh at the idea he comes up with.
“[Truth. Five things you like about me.]”
Heart laughs loudly. He leans in and throws his other leg onto Mind’s lap, encroaching even further into Mind’s personal space. “(Okay-)” his voice cracks with mirth- “(okay, great, sure. Let’s see… One, you’re so ridiculous sometimes it makes me laugh. Two, you’re really stubborn-)”
“[How is that a thing you like about me?]”
Heart hums. “(Sometimes it’s cute.)”
Mind sputters.
“[Wh- what do you mean, cute?! Surely you don’t mean-]”
“(You have no right to say what I do and do not mean. Cutiepie.)”
Mind tries to bury his face in his hands, but his wrists are still trapped by Heart. Heart notices the movement and giggles all high and sweet - he bounces a little with his energy, and his curls blow around his face, and Mind realizes something that he can never unrealize.
Heart is cute.
“[You’re fucking insufferable.]”
“(That’s another thing I like about you. You’re really easy to fluster.)”
Cheeks warm like sunlight, Mind attempts to cross his arms defensively - unfortunately, it’s impossible without his hands free - and protests, “[I’m not flustered.]”
“(So you’re saying I need to try harder?)”
“[I hate you.]”
“(Fourth, you’re really-)” Heart bursts into laughter so hard his sides shake. He gasps for breath, and begins again- “(You’re really honest about your emotions.)”
Mind turns his head to laugh where Heart can’t see. Well, he can see, but slightly less. “[How is that a truth?!]” He asks incredulously.
“(You just admitted you hate me. You were honest with your emotions!)”
“[Get the truth out of the way, Heart.]”
“(Hmm… I like the way you speak.)” Heart answers.
“[What?]”
Heart caresses circles into Mind’s wrist with his thumb and says simply, “(It’s fun to talk to you.)” The words squeeze Mind’s chest like a warm hand inside his ribs.
Mind exhales. “[Your turn.]”
“(Truth. Same question.)”
Mind has a lot of options here. He could play it off like Heart did at first, or be straightforward and, perhaps, see Heart’s face flush.
“[You’re cute.]”
“(D-)” Heart stutters- “(Did I hear that right?)” Heart’s cheeks burn lavender. He reaches up to mess with his hair, and then lowers his hands back to Mind’s.
“[I said that you're cute.]”
“(But-)” Heart hesitates.
“[You’re cute. The way you blush, or when you bounce because you're having a lot of fun. Or how you giggle-]” To his horror, Mind finds that he is not, in fact, entirely unaffected by his own words. His face is awfully warm, and his gut flutters, fever-hot, and his pulse pounds in his ears. “[You’re just… cute.]” Mind finishes lamely.
“(Oh.)” Heart wraps his arms around Mind’s sides and leans his head on Mind’s shoulder. “(That's… do you really mean that?)”
Mind’s hands are indisposed, but he can hang his arms off of Heart’s shoulders and tell him, “[I don't say things I don't mean.]”
“(There’s another thing I like about you,)” Heart says. “(How kissable you look right now.)”
The most surprising part is that Mind isn't surprised. Calling him cute… flustering him like that… it makes sense.
It’s not logical, no. But Heart picked up that cup when Mind couldn't, trapped Mind in his room and yelled at him until he would accept Heart’s help, and… and…
With that pretty flush, and his hair all askew, and the smile on his plush lips… Heart looks kissable right now, too. What else is there to do but kiss him?
So Mind does. A spark lights between their parted lips. Mind leans in, smushes his face against Heart’s awkwardly to the tune of a little mirthful sound, and fans the flame. His arms shake and his lungs ache. He’s nervous.
That’s okay. Heart doesn't mind. Mind’s meant to be better than this, he usually thinks, it doesn't matter if Heart’s okay with it.
Mind lets go. He breaks to breathe, and kisses Heart again.
Eventually, Heart leans away, panting, lips swollen and shiny with saliva, lipstick smeared. “(I think it's probably been long enough now. Give me your hands.)”
Mind does.
Heart unties the rags and scrubs his hands. Slowly, the rust flakes off onto Heart’s bed. Mind tests his hands - his joints move smoothly and silently. Heart helped him.
“[...Thanks.]”
“(If they get rusty again, or you need me to wash the dishes or something, then… I mean, it’d only be logical, right?)”
Mind presses a kiss to Heart’s cheek. He cups the line of Heart’s jaw with one hand, the back of his head in the other, and murmurs, “[Of course. Now, let me put these to good use.]”