19. swap

CHAPTER NINETEEN

SWAP

—

Unadulterated happiness was so rare for Dmitri that when he was happy, he didn't even realise it.

He didn't realise that he was actually making breakfast for himself for once without Eden having to force him to do so, he didn't even realise that he was humming until she pointed it out.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" she asked, covering her mouth with the back of her hand as she yawned, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "You high or somethin'?"

Dmitri laughed, shaking his head as he continued to make his pancakes that rarely ever came out in proper circles. "Not high," he declined, adding a small, "Unfortunately," after it. I miss getting high. Damn.

Eden just rolled her eyes, laying her head on the table and mumbling, "I can't believe you're makin' breakfast. It's been so fuckin' long since you've made me breakfast."

A pang of guilt struck his chest at that, teeth involuntarily sinking into his lip, as if that would prevent himself from feeling bad. It wasn't his fault that he never made breakfast, or at least, that was what Eden always told him. He was just really fucking shit at schedules.

"Who said I'm making you breakfast?" he teased, turning his attention back to the pancakes in front of him. I should be a professional chef, look at this colour. "I'm doing it for myself," he justified, even though all the pancakes he had made so far were for Eden.

Grunting, Eden just raised her middle finger up at Dmitri, going onto her phone and typing out a quick message, her eyes lighting up when he placed a plate in front of her and pulled a seat out for himself.

"This is why you're my best friend," she mumbled through a full mouth, already finished with half of her first pancake.

"Damn, I thought it was because of my stunning personality."

Eden snorted. "You have no personality, baby."

"Bitch."

"Whore."

"Motherfu—"

Before Dmitri could go any further, Eden dipped her fingers into his glass of water and reached over, patting his face with her wet hands. Oh my Lord. Take me away.

Wiping his face with his t-shirt, Dmitri huffed, handing her his now tainted glass of water. "You're so fucking disgusting," he muttered, despite his serotonin levels being through the roof, because it had been so incredibly long since he and Eden had sat down and had breakfast together.

"You love it," she shot back, reaching her fork into Dmitri's plate and taking his recently cut up pancake, despite having a whole extra pancake on her own plate. Fucking hell.

"Annoying ass," he muttered, but she didn't look like she was listening, her eyes stuck on her phone. "Oy. Bitch. Stop ignoring me."

Shushing him almost soon as he said those words, Eden held up her phone for him to see, as if he could fucking read any of it. "Read this."

"E, I can't fuckin' see."

Eden just sighed, and before he knew it, her hand was reaching forward to smack his head. "Get your eyes checked," she ordered, proceeding to read out the message for him instead. "Trinh said that they're at Tariq's house and they want me to come over."

Well. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that—"

"Let me fuckin' finish my sentence then," Eden huffed out. Man, my pancakes are so fucking good. "They asked if you wanted to come with. Apparently, Tariq asked for you? What's that about?" she asked, her confusion apparent in the wrinkle of her eyebrows and the way she was side-eyeing him.

Her confusion was justified, though. He hadn't exactly told her about the fact that he and Tariq were okay.

Well, mostly okay.

Sometimes, they would forget that they had actually cleared the air, and then, they would just argue for absolutely no reason over things that barely even made sense anymore.

They were okay.

"Tariq and I made up," he mumbled, shoving a forkful of pancake into his mouth so that he wouldn't have to say anything else, or worse, have to reply to Eden's wrath that she was about to ensue.

"D, what?" she hissed, eyes boring into his skull. "Y'all made up? When? The fuck? Wait, why?"

Rolling his eyes at her dramatics, Dmitri shrugged, holding up a finger as he finished chewing.

"Bitch, speak."

"Let me fuckin' chew," he stated, and once he was done, he took a deep breath, because he just knew what Eden was going to do.

She was bound to curse him out, yell at him for forgiving Tariq, making up with him. When he had told her about him, he had made him out to be a complete fucking dick, when in reality, the both of them were wrong. So, so wrong.

Okay. Here goes nothing. "Basically," he began, ignoring the way his heart was pounding in his chest, for a reason that he couldn't even understand. It's just Eden. "We talked about it like— a week ago? We spoke about why we were both wrong, and we also spoke about the shit that I told you about. The whole pity thing. And my depression. You know?"

Of course, Eden didn't know.

"D, you're just sayin' words. None of them are makin' sense to me."

Fuck. "This is low-key really fucking hard for me to talk about," he breathed out, Eden's eyes softening at once, her body moving forward. "Sorry. I just really value your opinion, so it's gonna suck if you think that making up with Tariq was a bad idea." I'm going to scream.

Eden sighed, and with an understanding nod, she said, "In the end, what matters is how you feel about it."

"But—"

"Shush. Do you feel okay with being friends with him again? Are you comfortable?"

Am I comfortable?

"Yeah," he said, and then repeated it, softer this time. "Yeah. Really fucking comfortable. We— uh, we talked about it, and like, we understand what we did and everything. So... We're good. I think," he added, because he couldn't have a single fucking thought without overanalysing what he was saying.

Eden shrugged. "Then who am I to judge?"

And at once, the weight was lifted from Dmitri's shoulders. Technically, there shouldn't have been a weight in the first place, Eden was his best friend. Rationally, he knew that he could tell her things without her judging him. Unfortunately for him, he rarely ever thought rationally.

"Sorry I keep assuming you're—"

"If you don't stop apologisin' for shit, I'm gonna commit a murder," Eden interrupted, her voice teasing yet firm as she continued to eat her— well, his— pancakes.

Sighing, Dmitri just took Eden's now empty plate and got up from the table, walking to the sink to wash their plates. It was weird, but it felt nice to do it. To do something for Eden, for once, since she was the one who was always doing things around the house.

No matter how much he did, he could never make up for all the shit that Eden put up with, did for him when he was depressed and too tired to even get out of bed. It never hurt to try, though.

"E?" he said softly from his position at the sink.

"Hm?"

"I love you so fucking much, you have no idea," he rambled all at once, heat rising to his cheeks. It never got easier— telling someone that he loved them, because for starters, there was only one person to say it to.

Eden just hummed. "I love you, Dmitri. Even if you're a pain in my fuckin' ass. Now, shoo, get ready. We're going to Tariq's place."

And it shouldn't have, but upon hearing that, Dmitri was suddenly happier.

—

"Dmitri, you're so fucking annoying, I literally—"

Snorting at Tariq's statement, Dmitri raised an eyebrow. "What? You're the one who was annoying me. You're annoying."

"The girls are fightin'," Eden muttered, one of her hands using the television remote, the other resting on Trinh's head, who was asleep on her lap.

Apparently, Tariq and Trinh had stayed up the entire night watching some TV show about, as Trinh had said, queer people doing queer things. And by the looks of it, they were feeling the after effects of staying up all night, if the headache that Tariq was going on about was anything to go by.

"Eden, you're so loud," Trinh mumbled, shoving their face into her thigh and groaning. "I'm gonna fall asleep on your thigh, it's so comfy."

"Who told y'all to stay up all night?" Eden questioned, a small smile on her face as she combed through Trinh's hair, the blue colour contrasting her fingers and the dark rings on it. "Suffer, bitches."

Tariq just pouted, taking a swig out of the coffee that he had practically begged Dmitri to make as soon as he entered the house, claiming that his coffee was so bad that it never failed to wake him up.

Of course, Dmitri had called him a dick and a whole other slew of curses until he took it back.

"We rarely get to hang out anymore," Tariq defended, taking the last sip of his second cup of coffee. "I'm always busy inking up people's skin and taking pictures of my dick, and Trinh's always busy with— wait, Trinh, what do you even do?"

"I just vibe," Trinh mumbled in response as they raised their head up to look at Eden, before whispering, "Your fingers are so nice in my hair. Eden. I love you."

Huffing, Dmitri swatted Tariq's hand away when he reached over his body to take pour some more coffee for himself. "Stop it," he muttered, grabbing the half-full cup of coffee from Tariq's mouth and downing it by himself. "No more coffee for you."

Tariq grinned. "Spit swap, nice."

"I'm going to fucking end you," Dmitri muttered, placing the mug on the other side of the bed, out of Tariq's reach.

"I mean, if you want, we could—"

"Make a sex joke one more time and I swear, it'll be your last."

A single laugh left Tariq's mouth, and he shook his head, reaching over to flick Dmitri, probably aiming for his forehead but getting the gap between his eyebrows instead.

Dmitri just snorted, reaching over and actually getting his forehead this time. "Bastard."

"Your bastard."

Blood instantly rushing to his cheeks, Dmitri cleared his throat, shooting Eden a pointed look, one that he hoped said, 'Please say something and switch this conversation around'.

He knew that that was just how Tariq was. He made the most ridiculous fucking jokes, and if he was having this conversation with someone like Trinh, he would have said the exact same thing.

And if anyone else had said that to Dmitri, he would have shot back with something just as snarky, maybe even more. But this was Tariq.

Tariq was overwhelming, and Tariq was annoying, and Tariq was unbearable, and Tariq made Dmitri lose all sense of his rationality.

"Before y'all can go any further," Eden drawled, giving Dmitri an imperceptible nod and continuing, "My sister is comin' over in the first week of April. April fourth, I think. Anyway, I'm havin' a get together sort of thing— wait, never mind, that sounds so adult. I'm havin' a gathering. Y'all should come."

"E, we literally live together."

A deep sigh later, Eden pursed her lips, looking up at Dmitri from her position on the ground and saying, "Not you, D. Tariq. You can bring Zoya, if you want. I haven't seen her around in forever."

"Will do, I miss Juno already," Tariq affirmed. And then, he added, "Hey, what do y'all do when you have to go somewhere? About Juno?"

"We have nice neighbours," Eden explained. "We leave her with them. Anyway, y'all are coming?"

Tariq nodded. "Yup. Zoya and I."

"It's still so wild to me that you and Trinh knew Tariq and Zoya, and neither of you told me," Dmitri mumbled. "Traitors."

Trinh just grumbled something incoherent, as they always did, lifting their head up from Eden's lap, hair covering their entire face as they said, "You're so fucking secretive, you didn't even tell Eden that your ex's name was Tariq. How were we to know?"

Pursing his lips, Dmitri turned his head around, only to find Tariq's head lolling to the right, his eyes slowly closing, before they snapped open again, a disgruntled sigh leaving his mouth. Always sleeping.

Blinking harshly, Tariq shook his head. "Yeah, yeah," he breathed out. "I'll be there. When?"

"April fourth. Easter," Eden reminded. "Bring Zoya if you want. But don't bring too many people, I don't have enough money to feed more than ten people."

Yawning, Tariq gave her a thumbs up, harshly rubbing his eyes and mumbling, "Hm. Will do."

"Just go to sleep," Dmitri muttered to him, nudging him in his side, the worn out cloth of his t-shirt brushing against his elbow. "You're not even supposed to stay up all night but you did, and now your whole system is going to be out of whack, and then, you'll get sick and—"

"You worry more than I do, and trust me, I worry a lot," Tariq interrupted, yawning again. "I have to take my— y'know. My pictures. I'll sleep after."

Somehow, Eden heard their conversation and she looked up from Trinh to the two of them. "How did that start? The pictures thing?"

As soon as those words left Eden's mouth, a smile spread across Tariq's face, the one that always, always made Dmitri smile, too.

Looking ten times more awake than he did two minutes ago, Tariq shrugged and said, "Okay, do you want the long story or the short story?

"Long," Eden replied just as Dmitri and Trinh said, "Short."

"Well, since Eden is the only person whose opinion matters—"

"Imagine hating Vietnamese people enough to oppress us. To prevent us from speaking. To curb our—"

"Shush, Trinh," Tariq instructed like the petty bitch that he was, sitting upright and wincing at the small crack that was heard from his back. "Fuck. Anyway, I was tattooing this one person, she was telling me this that she was in like— the sex work industry. Not the selling pictures kind, the performing kind. And at this time, I was low-key struggling with money," he said, pausing a little and looking over at Dmitri, probably to check if he was listening.

He always did that, checked if people were still listening to him speak. His reasoning? That he was afraid that he would bore people with what he was saying.

Dmitri had always responded the same way. That there was no way he could bore anyone with what he was saying.

"I mean, I had just moved into this apartment, I had a ton of repairs to do, so I didn't really have much to live off," he explained once Dmitri gave him a small nod, using that as his cue to continue. "And I had told Zoya that I didn't want to rely on her, because I rely on her for practically everything else, so... I needed money. So I told this woman that I was struggling, she told me that sex work was always an option. And she spread the word about it to like— other people. That's the only reason I have as much money as I do. Obviously, I'm incapable of performing, I'm too sick for that, but pictures was a good option for me. It's not very good if you want a relationship to work, but I enjoy doing it."

Dmitri frowned, everything else going out of his brain as soon as Tariq said the last few words. "Wait. Why isn't it good for relationships? It's not like it's harming anyone," he pointed out, eyebrows knitting together.

"Quentin— my ex— had a very different thought process," Tariq divulged, laughing, a mix of amused and bitter. "Was not fun to be in a relationship with him."

If it were anyone else, Dmitri would have pushed. But he could always tell when Tariq was uncomfortable. He did that thing— the bitter laugh, the more sarcastic sentences, the repeated clenching and unclenching of his fist.

So, he just said, "Well, Quentin was a dick."

"I'll drink to that," Trinh mumbled, taking a giant swig of their coffee and falling back onto Eden's lap. "We should all collectively murder your ex, Tariq."

Tariq snorted, his eyes briefly flitting to Dmitri, and then back to Trinh on the floor. "We don't have to murder Dmitri. He's fine."

"Thanks," Dmitri stated dryly. "I love when people tell me that they don't want to murder me."

Honestly, it was progress. Two months of arguing later, Tariq didn't want to murder Dmitri anymore. There was room for more progress, but for now, that was enough.

"I'm so fucking tired," Tariq mumbled, his head dangerously close to Dmitri's shoulder, one wrong (or right) move and it would touch his shoulder. "Might go take my stupid fucking pictures now, I need to sleep soon."

"Oh," Dmitri stated, inching a little away from Tariq, he didn't know what he would do if Tariq actually rested his head on his shoulder. "How long will that take?"

Tariq shrugged. "Two and a half, maybe three hours, I think?"

Holy fuck. "Three whole hours?"

"It's a lot harder than people make it out to be." Shooting him a wry smile, Tariq rolled off his bed, grabbing a bottle of nail polish from his side table, a bright crimson. Oh? "Stop staring at the nail polish, I have to cover up the white spots on my nails. We love a calcium and zinc deficiency."

"Very sexy," Dmitri drawled, earning a short laugh from Tariq along with a shove to his shoulder. "Go, go. Take your pictures. I'll just be here with Eden and Trinh. We'll watch something. Use your Netflix because I can't afford to get my own."

Tariq snorted, rolling his eyes and nodding. "I'll be back," he said, and that was all he said before he left the room, closing the door behind him.

So, Dmitri grabbed the remote from Eden and began to mindlessly go through Tariq's Netflix, deciding on a show to put on just to pass the time.

He did this for three and a half hours, before he got bored. Eden and Trinh had fallen asleep on the fucking floor, and his phone was slowly dying.

So, he made his way to the spare bedroom, knocking once on the door. "Tariq?"

No response.

"Uh— Tariq, if you can hear me, I'm coming in," he called, pushing the door open and entering the room, his eyes adjusting to the bright overhead lights.

He didn't know what he expected to see, but he knew that he didn't expect to see Tariq passed out on the bed, soft snores leaving his mouth.

He also didn't expect to see Tariq with glitter on his cheek bones.

Um. "Oy," he whispered, shaking Tariq's very bare shoulder. If he's naked under the sheets, I don't know what the fuck I'll do. "Do you want me to switch off the lights?"

Honestly, Dmitri had assumed that he wouldn't get a response. But he was proven wrong when Tariq said—

"I want you to let me sleep." Blinking his eyes open, Tariq rolled over and looked up at Dmitri. "God fucking damnit," he muttered softly, a groan following his words. "Can you get me the t-shirt from the floor there? It's fresh, I promise."

"Are you naked?" Dmitri hissed, eyes widening, but he handed him the t-shirt anyway. "I'll step out, you can just change, and—"

"I'm wearing boxers, shut up," Tariq interrupted with an eye roll. "Now that you've rudely woken me up, come and watch this show with me," he urged, taking his laptop out of its charger and patting the space next to him.

What do I have to lose? "I get to pick the show?"

"Why the fuck do you—"

"Because I'm cooler," Dmitri stated. "Now do I get to pick or not?"

"One episode of yours, and then one episode of mine," Tariq negotiated, like that wasn't what they always did.

So, Dmitri smiled and nodded.

"Deal."

—

+3393

AN: i would just like to say that this was the outline for this chapter:

yeah❤️

so😳✋ thank u all for reading !!! how has ur day been? lmk if u want! have a good rest of ur day everyone🥰