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keep saying i don't want you (but i think that i do)

Summary:

Farm couldn't do this. He was supposed to hand in his textile assignment, and he was one hundred percent going to forget it at home if he went out on a hunt to retrieve pistachio ice cream at this hour.
Plus, who the hell eats ice cream in the middle of December?

or,

Van and Farm's 04:00 AM ice cream run becomes a turning point in their relationship.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Having to share a condo was a nightmare.
Having to share a condo with an A-grade asshole with pretty eyes was an even bigger nightmare.

"Please come with me, Farm. Pretty please?"

When Farm had offered Van to move in with him, he had done it out of the good in his heart, seeing the fact that he would be in close proximity of his crush just about every single hour of the day as only a bonus.

But at what cost?

Because now he was lying awake at four in the morning with a pair of big, glassy eyes staring up at him, begging and pleading to get ice cream. The specific pistachio kind with real pistachios in it.

"Are you fucking tearing up right now? Over ice cream?"

Farm couldn't do this. He was supposed to hand in his textile assignment, and he was one hundred percent going to forget it at home if he went out on a hunt to retrieve pistachio ice cream at this hour.
Plus, who the hell eats ice cream in the middle of December?

But then again, the prettiest boy on the planet was giving him doe eyes, sitting on his knees next to their bed, his face positioned cunningly onto Farm's chest- and Farm would commit tax-evasion crimes (Jinn called him a pussy for not using more serious crimes like arson to prove his point, but Farm argues that you can be gay as hell and a good citizen at the same time), so ice cream it was then.

"Nah, dude, just my eyes. Learned the trick in fifth grade," Van said, immediately breaking out of the pitiful act. "You're driving, by the way."

Farm now has enough proof that he chose the most annoying goddamn boy to fall hopelessly in love with.

 

"Are there even any shops open right now? I don't think there has ever been an ice cream shop anywhere near this area."

"Don't worry, I looked it up on Maps. There's a parlor that sells 24/7, it should be around the corner now."

Farm took his eyes off the road to shoot a 'really now?' expression at Van, who sighed and insisted, "You can trust me. Seriously! You and Jinn and J and Mai- all you ever do is underestimate me. Trust me for once, yeah?"

Farm didn't reply but he did feel bad; their whole friend group treated Van like he was- in words that weren't sugarcoated- a liability.

Being friends with him for so long, they had learnt the hard way, multiple times, not to let Van do things like race, navigate or bring food trays to their table in the canteen- because his laces were never tied and more times than they could count, he had ended up face-flat on the ground, taking down their lunches with him.

Van was a grown adult, though. Maybe he had trouble navigating by memory, but surely he could follow directions from his phone?

Farm found out, yet again the difficult way, that Van had no sense of direction. So now they were parked in some random apartment complex, heads pushed against each other's, trying to understand which turn they'd taken that they definitely weren't supposed to.

"It's from the roundabout!"
"What roundabout? We never took a roundabout!"
"You're not supposed to take fucking rounds at the roundabout, that's just what it's called!"

Farm is giving up. What had started as an attempt to look good in front of his crush had ended up with him sitting in his pajamas in an unfamiliar place, arguing with said crush about what roundabouts were meant for.

Running out of options, Farm just let his head fall onto the steering wheel, which caused a brief honk to echo around them. Van jumped in his seat, but the barking of a dog caught his attention.

Farm looked in the direction of the barking from behind Van, now accompanied by jingling and footsteps.

Then Van, also looking the same way, straightened his posture out of nowhere. Fixed his hair out of nowhere.
Smoothed out his pajama top out of nowhere.
He got out of the car, shut the car door, nodded at Farm, and then jogged off somewhere in the distance.

What the hell?

Farm, suddenly curious, leaned down to watch Van through the passenger seat window.

"P'View! Hey!"

Van's voice called indistinctly as he went up to someone in a tracksuit, waving and beaming. He bent down to pet the small dog the guy was walking, probably the one that they'd spooked earlier with the abrupt honk.

"Hey, how've you been keeping?" The tracksuit guy asked, taking Van's hand into his. Not in a handshake; it was the sort of hand-holding that you see your crush and some dude you've never seen before do, and then immediately feel a churn in your stomach.

Okay, what the actual hell?

"Perfectly fine. I forgot you lived here! How come you're out here at four?"

The wider Van's face stretched into a smile, the more Farm's fell. Who even was this guy? He'd never noticed him around Van, and considering Farm and him were attached at the hip now, he definitely should have.

"Just getting fresh air, walking Mochi," replied Tracksuit Guy casually, gesturing to the yipping dog with his chin, smiling just as much. "He likes coming out a bit early, he's a little fussy when it gets brighter. Or hotter. Or both. You know how much of a drama queen he is."

Van laughed. Farm was not liking this.

Some random guy, all hot and dashing at the oddest possible hour in his tracksuit with his fancy dog named Mochi, out of everything, was just stealing Van's attention like Farm hadn't gotten out of bed on a school night for him. It sounded stupid to himself, but Farm couldn't help but notice how Van sounded twice as happier than ten minutes ago.

Whatever. He didn't want to watch them anymore.

 

Van took his time, a solid fifteen minutes (not like Farm was counting), chatting up Tracksuit Guy and petting his tiny dog that Van seemed to have grown on, based off the way he ran little laps between his feet. Good for him.

"Hey, sorry, that was P'View. I asked him about the ice cream parlor and he said we missed a turn-"
"Who?"

Van's eyebrows knitted themselves closer together in the confusion.

"What?"
"Who was that? I don't know him," Farm repeated. His tone came out heavier than he'd intended. Whatever was clenching in his chest needed to unclench right the fuck now before Van caught onto how off he sounded.

"I know you don't know him, Farm," Van answered in a 'matter of fact' way. "He's my ex. But it's been a long while since then, and we were barely even dating. Like a situationship sort of scene, mostly. I didn't tell you guys because it wasn't that serious."

"Yeah, well, but you always tell me when you're talking to someone. Even if they're not that important," Farm argued.

And it was true. Though he didn't enjoy it, Farm was always there to listen when Van needed to rant or just sing praises about whoever he was flirting with that week. It helped Farm too, in a way, as a reminder to keep his behavior in check- just in case he forgot that he was never meant to cross the boundary of a best friend.

"Eh, it's been forever since the thing. I think it was during semester exams last year, when you cried after that pink fabric snagging incident. I didn't want to irritate you, that's all," Van shrugged.

He just brushed it off like it wasn't a big deal- which it wasn't. Farm was just treating it like it was, for whatever reason. He should've gotten used to this years ago. It's mostly his fault that he hasn't learned to move on by now, something that Van had mastered much faster than him.

"Chill out," Van said, his tone softening, "Quite literally, now. Let's go get that ice cream, I promise I have the right directions this time."

 

"Man, it's cold as fuck," Van winced, shivering.

As it turns out, Tracksuit Guy was right and they had, indeed, missed a turn.

"It was literally your idea to come out at the crack of dawn. Of course it's gonna be cold," Farm replied, more blunt than he usually was.

Van didn't want to sit inside the parlor either, because apparently the lights were "way too bright," and had resorted to standing outside in the chilled, misty air. At some point, he had started whining, so Farm eventually had no option but to drive home, trying his best not to get his carseat stained with what was probably the greenest ice cream he has ever seen.

 

On the elevator ride up to their condo, Farm caught Van scrolling the Tracksuit Guy's Instagram posts, and at this point, he just wanted the doors to open already so he could plant face-first in the bed already. He didn't want to wonder if Van stalked his Instagram profile too, smiled at his posts too.

He was getting slightly irritated, maybe at the Tracksuit Guy or at Van, or maybe even both, egged on by his own thoughts.

So maybe it was the haze of sleep or something else entirely that wanted to claim all of Van's affections, but Farm pushed open the door to their apartment way too aggressively, hung his keys with unnecessary force, and downright chucked his half-eaten ice cream into the freezer, making a big clattering noise.

That's when Van noticed.

"Hey, no, come back," Van said, his voice serious for once as he grabbed Farm's wrist, who was aiming straight for his bedroom.
"What?"

Farm was exasperated now. Whatever Van was going to tease him about, he didn't want to hear it.
"The hell was that about? What are you angry about?" Van's gaze moved between the freezer and Farm's frowning face.
"Nothing! Why would I be mad about anything? You got your ice cream, now I want to go to bed, let go."

"I'm your best friend, Farm. Who will you tell if not me?"
"Yeah, and that's all you ever will be," Farm uttered, without even realising what he'd blurted. "You won't fucking get it, Van."
"Huh? What, are you saying I don't understand you or something?"

"No!" Farm's voice went up a few decibels, snatching his wrist away. At first, he'd said what was on his mind out loud on accident, but now, he wanted to say it with his whole chest because he'd decided right then and right there that pining in silence was getting him nowhere.

The timing was convenient too, because if things got out of hand later, he could just shove it under the rug by making the "odd hour", "half-asleep", "brain fog" excuses.

If Farm wanted to confess, he would have to do it now, because the prospect of doing it ten years from now, wasted at some bar during a reunion when all was said done haunted him.

"If you understood me, you'd know that I love you and I have loved you for- just, since forever. Okay? And I'm getting tired of you pretending you don't know. Because you might be dumb but I live with you, man. How could you not notice?"

Farm processed way too late that the wording he'd used was way too strong too just pass off under the terrible excuse of having brain fog. He felt stuck now, tears forming in his eyes.

Van, who had been listening to Farm speak, now had wrinkles of frustration on his face, looking like he was about to cry just as much as Farm was. Then, he took his turn to speak.

"And?" He questioned, his speech much controlled and calm than it usually was. "Was I just supposed to accept that you were in love with me? When you did nothing to confess or even ask for permission to pursue me? You've just been a coward this whole time, and it's not like you're any better than me, Farm."

Shit. Farm hated to admit it, but he was right. He hadn't done anything to make a move because he was too scared. Even for a cliché reason like being too afraid to lose his best friend, holding Van accountable instead of himself in a situation he wasn't even wrong in to begin with, was unfair.

"What about you? Why haven't you noticed that I haven't gone on a single date in a month? Why haven't you noticed that I bother you on purpose now? Why haven't you noticed that I want you so badly I can't even think straight? Aren't you supposed to have a crush on me?"

Farm's heart almost stopped by the time Van stopped to take a breath. Did he say he wanted him? In what way? Hopefully he wasn't dreaming up whatever was going down right now, and if he was, he didn't want to wake up.

"At least I'm giving you hints, Farm. If you're just gonna sit there like a dumbass and cry about how much of a player I am or whatever, then that's your business."

A tear had already slipped down Van's cheek, face reddened. He pushed past Farm, walking towards the bedroom. He had barely managed to take four steps when the cogs in Farm's head turned, his ambition returning.
In one grab of his waist and half a turn, Farm had Van caged against the kitchen island.

"Wait, sorry, don't go," Farm whispered, "please."

Van seemed taken aback, but his shock dissolved the moment Farm rested his cheek against Van's. Van's posture loosened visibly, his arms coming up to loosely hang around Farm's torso.
Farm wanted to kiss the path that Van's tear had rolled down, but hesitated a moment. Consequently came the thought that told him it wasn't the time to think twice, so he did it.

Van laughed, and it sounded a lot more genuine than when Tracksuit Guy was talking about his shihtzu's morning routine. Farm's chest swelled with pride.

"You're so stupid, dude. You got jealous over P'View? You're like, ten times hotter than him," Van commented, leaving a fleeting kiss on his jaw.

Farm's eyebrows went up, partly in amusement and partly in surprise.

"You think so? I don't think so."

"I wouldn't do him even if he was some billionaire in a very fitted suit. I would, however, do you in the middle of this room, at this very moment, while you're in your pajamas. If that's proving anything."

The amount of blood that rushed throughout Farm's body was nearly dizzying. He took a quick glance at the digital clock, which read '05:03'. Morning classes started in three hours, but Van was doing his stupid 'pretty please?' eyes at him, their bodies pressed against each other's exactly the way Farm had visualized countless times in his head, so even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't refuse.

 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Van, wake up! It's seven forty-five, we have to leave! Now!"

It wasn't the best idea to have sex with the person he was madly in love with hours prior to their assignment submission, but Farm couldn't help it. Assignments could wait, grades would come and go, but he couldn't compromise with Van anymore, and he didn't want to either.

It sucked that Farm had to even get out of bed when Van was right there, next to him, looking at him like he'd hung the stars. The most he could do was kiss his forehead and rush to get dressed before they missed class entirely.

 

"Oh my fucking God, where the hell were you guys?" Jinn interrogates the moment Van and Farm step into class. "Yeah, took you guys long enough," J agreed.
"Why are you two late anyway? I've never seen Farm late, at least. Van's a whole different story."

Van and Farm took a glance at each other, then Van said with a wide grin, "It's kind of a long story. I'll tell you guys at break."

"By the way," Jinn looked at Farm's empty hands, "where's your assignment?"

"...fuck!"

Notes:

thank you for reading!! much love xoxo