THIRD PERSON POV

The entire table shook with earthquake-like tremors as Thaddeus collapsed into his usual spot across from Mitty, overworked calf and thigh muscles screaming in protest against taking even a single step further.

"Dude... Do I need to call the Medical Unit? You look like somebody kidnapped your hairbrush and held it for ransom."

The curly-haired man scowled at his best friend's voice, plopping his lunch bag on the table before reaching down to rub at the places where his limbs ached the most.

It wasn't like the man looked particularly bad by universal standards; the typical person would likely not even register the fuzziness in his curls and the smears of dirt strewn across his moist brow and uniform. But Mitty on the other hand, knew Thad's mode of operation like the back of his hand, and a stained uniform and flyaway hairs were far from being a part of it.

"Shut up, buzzcut," Thad growled, ripping open the velcro that held his lunch box closed with a huff. His frustration sizzled down a little bit just as he did so, unable to help himself from drawing in a deep lungful of the faint, peachy scent that wafted from its sealed interior. "I'm having a shit day. Don't make it worse." He ordered, the confident words expelled with a little softness compared to their usual ferocious bite.

Mitty cocked a befuddled brow. "It wasn't that bad," the man recalled as he pulled out his daily sandwich. The two friends had been placed on the same assignment that morning, one that mostly consisted of configuring pipework for running new electrical lines. Granted, it wasn't the best assignment, but it certainly wasn't the worst that they could have gotten.

If only the blonde knew that it wasn't work that was making Thad so irritable and exhausted, but rather his own inner turmoil that stoked the fires of his discomfort.

It was almost too fast to keep up with, the rate at which his brain was creating so many new thoughts and questions, and Thaddeus despised all of them. They had only served to make him trip over his own feet in front of the entire Construction Unit more times than he would ever be willing to admit, and never offered any new explanations as to the root of his troubles.

Rather, his maladaptive daydreaming only served to fuel the neverending hamster wheel of increasing confusion that had begun spiraling out of control ever since that one, particular day that he just couldn't seem to get out of his head...

"You know, I hate that stupid Enforcer bastard you call a friend." Thad spat, pulling out his lunch only to slam the glass container down on the table in front of him. The noisy clang! that it made as it collided with the metal surface of the table soothed his thirst to hurt something by a fraction of a percent, and he had to resist the urge to repeat the action again and again until the vessel was reduced to pieces in his grasp.

But no, he wouldn't do that. The man was determined to exhibit self-control this time, especially considering that the item of interest contained Bug's mouthwatering garlic spaghetti carbonara.

"... Aria invited that fuckin' kid over our Housing Pod the other day, and I had to sleep with his filthy scent stuck in my nostrils all damn night. Can you believe he did that shit?!" Thad finished, gripping his fork in a fist like a child as he stabbed, instead of twirling, it into the lengthy noodles.

Mitty's blonde brow rose even higher at his friend's question, and the man spent an extra beat chugging from his water bottle, using its metal lip as a cover for the knowing smirk that twitched on and off of his lips. He tried his best to force it back.

"Dude..." He finally spoke once he was able to tone his expression back about seventy-five percent of the way, "Are you... Jealous?"

Thaddeus spasmed as if electrocuted, practically jumping in his seat as he narrowed his eyes at his accusatory friend.

"Me?! Jealous?! Hah, no way, fuck all that." He scoffed, leaning back in his chair and hastily crossing his arms as he swallowed back the last of the pasta that was stored in his cheek. "I couldn't care less whether that little mutant disappeared from the face of The Society tomorrow. In fact, I'd probably be better off without him."

"M... hm..." Mitty nodded slowly as he munched on the crust of his sandwich, pity and disappointment showing through his gaze despite his best efforts to hide it. "... Sooo you mean to tell me that if I said that I thought Aria was actually super cute and sweet and that I'd want him as my Soul Mate if I didn't have Andrea, that you would be totally fi–"

"Shut up." Thad growled, fist clenching the edge of his chair so hard that the metal actually began to warp a little under the furious grip. Rubber bands filled his chest the moment Mitty uttered Aria's name, snapping against his ribcage at maximum stretch in an effort to puncture through the bone and infiltrate his heart, but his best friend only chuckled at the extreme reaction.

"I was fucking kidding. Calm down, you nitwit." Mit corrected, leaning forward on the table to rest his elbows on either side, "But this just proves that I was right. You're are jealous," He smirked at his triumph, not bothering to conceal it this time. "Looks like my dress hack really worked, huh?"

Everything stiffened all at once, and Thad bristled as he placed a conspicuous hand over his crotch when a vivid snapshot of that frilly monstrosity punched its way through his thick brain matter.

The dress situation was admittedly just as terrifying as it was arousing, the sight of that soft fabric hugging every smooth dip and plush curve of Aria's lithe body drawing reactions out of him he didn't even imagine possible at any point beforehand. But regardless of that harrowing truth, it was strictly against Thaddeus' moral code to admit to any faults, a rule for which he had only made an exception when it came to soothing that disgusting metal out of his annoying little Bug.

So, there was no way in hell he would ever admit that Mit's 'dress hack' had left him popping such incredibly circulation-shifting boners that he was left somewhat lightheaded after each one. No, there was no way anyone could even torturethat information out of him.

"You might need to check that egghead of yours for cracks because for your information, it didn't work in the least." Thad lied through his teeth, plastering on his best poker face despite the flickers of pleasurable electricity that licked up his body from the place where his jumpsuit rubbed against his straining cock.

"... In fact, it disgusted me. Guys shouldn't wear dresses, no matter how much of a mutant they are." He added for good measure, emphasizing the words with a resolute nod.

Thaddeus hoped that he seemed confident enough on the outside, but his throat burned with uncertainty as he questioned the credibility of his facade. The male cursed Bug, once for making him have to do this in the first place and twice for rubbing some of his shitty lying abilities off onto him.

"Yeah, because it's totally normal to talk about someone you're 'disgusted' by –" Mit made air quotes beside his head, "... Every second of every day. But it's okay, we can go with that if it helps you sleep at night." He reached over to pat the top of Thad's hand, sarcasm hanging thick in the air.

Thad instantly snatched his hand from under Mit's with an impossible-to-miss glower. "What?! I don't talk about him every second."

Mit couldn't hold back his laugh at Thaddeus' reaction. This was pure gold, and he had half a mind to take out his travel tablet and take video evidence of his friend's come-to-Jesus moment so he could tease him about it later.

"Oh, really?" The blonde tilted his head, raising a unilateral brow once more, "So what about when we got on the unit this morning and you mentioned how your uniform smelled like peaches?"

Thad rolled his eyes, thoroughly unconvinced. "That was literally once, you're blowing this way out of proport–"

"– Or how when we were pulling the copper pipes, you compared the color to how his hair looks in the light?"

"Okay listen, I only said that because it was true."

"How about when you talked about how much you were craving his homemade lunches? 'Fuckin' scrumptious' is what I recall you referring to them as."

Thad gritted his teeth. "I was hungry."

"Suuure. Hungry for Aria, maybe." Mit mumbled, and Thad immediately reached across the table.

"Okay, okay I'll stop, I'll stop!" The blonde surrendered, protecting his head as his friend attempted to pummel him over the distance of the table between them. Thad only flopped back into his chair with a huff once he decided that his friend had learned his lesson, reaching up to pat his curls back into the right direction once his ass was secure.

Mitty chuckled for a few moments more, struggling to reign himself in at the priceless look on Thad's face. A smack to the temple was more than worth it in exchange for that rare sight.

"Dude, you're supposed to be on my side. Are you my friend or aren't you?" Thad half-joked as Mit sucked off the remaining sandwich crumbs from the tips of his fingers.

"Of course I'm your fuckin' friend, stupid." Mit's voice started off in its usual, playful tone, but the next part of his statement quickly turned much more serious. "But just because I'm your friend doesn't mean I'm just going to sit here and be your 'yes' man. If I did that, you would have crashed and burned decades ago."

"Decades? I'm only eighteen."

"Eighteen or eighty, you get what I mean." Mit sighed, "Since we were little kids, you've always needed a little help sorting out the way you really feel behind that cocky-ass personality of yours. I'm happy to help, but you've gotta realize that just because someone doesn't necessarily agree with you, it doesn't mean that they're against you."

Thaddeus frowned at that, chancing to cross his arms against his chest since he now felt confident in the steadily deflating nature of his penile problem.

For all of his life, Thad had interpreted his existence as himself against the world, a god walking amongst subsidiary beings. He was genetic perfection, a living marvel, and anyone would kill to be in his shoes.

Therefore, anyone who thought differently from him was simply... wrong.

There was no contemplation, no actual critical reasoning behind that concept, one that Thaddeus carried with him since birth. It just... was.

So now, as he considered the fact that maybe – just maybe – everyone else in The Society wasn't completely insane for having thoughts and opinions that differed from his own, it felt nothing short of a revelation.

The curly-haired man sucked in a breath, completely horrified and taken aback by the idea that... Mit might have had a damn point.

"You done being in shock, yet? Or do I need to reach over there and personally bring you back to the land of the living?" Mitty raised his hand, jokingly aiming at the same spot that Thad had popped him at a few minutes prior. But Thad jumped away just in time, blinking rapidly.

"Don't, you'll mess up my hair."

"Good, you're back." Mitty ignored Thad's vain statement, the tactic similar to ignoring a toddler who throws too many tantrums. "Because I've got one more bone to pick with you. I didn't want to have to do this, but after what happened at the party, it's obvious that you need someone to whip you into shape before someone else much less desirable, does."

"I don't need anyone to do anything for me. I'm perfectly fine."

"Aht, aht, aht! Let me finish first before you object to anything. Please." Mitty tutted, holding up a hand to silence his friend. He held it for a minute, giving Thad a pointed look and continuing only when he felt confident that his friend was actually going to shut the hell up.

"... So, I'm not sure if you knew this already, but somehow our Soul Mates are also friends."

"Don't call him that."

Mitty's eyes rolled for the umpteenth time at his friend's deliberate disregard of his request, but chose not to acknowledge Thad's defiant personality this time as he continued, "Alright fuck it, I'm just gonna say it. Listen, man. Andrea told me some details about how you've been treating Aria, and quite honestly between that and what I saw at the party, you really need to get your head out of your ass and start treating him better."

"Dude, I–"

Mit held up a hand again, quick to dispel the ideas that were undoubtedly running through his friend's somewhat simple mind.

"Now, I'm not saying that you need to start fucking the guy or anything like that. But come on, man, you literally cursed at him, yelled at him, and broke his favorite bowl because you couldn't get your way. Who does that?!"

A lump formed in Thad's throat, and the man found himself unable to maintain eye contact as he lowered them to the table.

'That was... his favorite bowl?' Thaddeus tossed the fact around in his head a few times as if repeating it over and over would help lessen the sting. But to his dismay, each reiteration only made him feel that much shittier.

If he knew that that ugly, rainbow-colored bowl was Bug's favorite, he never would have thrown it to the ground like that. Well, he couldn't say that he wouldn't have done it with complete certainty, but he would have at least hesitated.

"To be fair, I don't really know Aria all too well. But from what I've heard, the guy is sweeter than a month's sugar ration." Mit tapped the tip of his index finger to the table, the clack of his nail acting like punctuation, "And while I can fully understand your frustration with the situation, I'm here to tell you now that I'm not remotely interested in being friends with someone who torments people." He paused for effect, letting the words sink in, "So I swear to fuck Thad, if I hear about you treating him like shit again, I'm going to be forced to escalate this. Don't make me be that guy."

Thaddeus sneered, snatching his lunch box from the table before pushing up to his feet to assume a more dominant position. "Are you threatening me?"

Mit sighed, keeping his expression neutral as he raised his head to re-establish eye contact with his short-fused friend. "I'm trying to help you, Thad. Don't you get that this type of behavior could easily lead to another strike on your record? If you keep up your bullshit at this rate, I'm going to have to witness my best friend get beheaded and be forced to scrub your blood and spinal fluid from the fucking floor panels! Don't make me do that again!"

The blonde's chest heaved, voice fracturing as the memory of his own mother's head rolling across the plush grass of the Atrium assaulted his consciousness, her lifeless eyes reflecting the much-too-perfect clouds in the artificial sky above. Mitty was only twelve years old at the time, but he never forgot the way his knuckles bled from scrubbing throughout the entire night, or how his tears left little, circular reminders of his loss as they dripped into the puddles of blood. It was then – and only then – that he had prayed to something higher than The Elders, hoping that there would be someone, something there to comfort his mother in her transition to the other side.

Thad bit his lip hard, blinking back a few threatening tears of his own at his recollection of the event. It had been horrible in its own right, only to be made all the more excruciating by the 'family cleanup' clause, which was intended to deter the undesirable's remaining loved ones from following down the same path of insubordination.

As abhorrent as it seemed, The Elders' fear tactic worked flawlessly to restore balance to their Society, as the recidivism rate for members with a history of family executions tended to be the lowest out of all members. It may have been an evil, but it was a necessary one.

After all, The Society always came first. Emotions could wait.

The curly-haired man opened his mouth to speak, to steer his friend's mind away from the trauma that was undoubtedly swirling about in there. But before he could utter a single phrase, a chime from his travel tablet stopped him in his tracks.

'Incoming comm: Aria Toulsend.' An automated voice sounded, the same one that droned out every announcement that echoed throughout The Society walls.

Thad frowned down at the device, confirming the name that flashed across the screen to ensure he hadn't just hallucinated the voice saying Bug's name. The man wondered just what Aria could want, especially considering that they'd literally just seen each other that same morning during his adventure down to the Early Developmental Unit.

After confirming that the names did indeed match, Thad didn't hesitate to answer, gut bubbling with discomfort as his brain whirred with possibilities as to what his Bug could possibly be calling him for. He could only hope it wasn't for something bad.

"Hello? Bug?" Thad answered, stepping a tiny bit away from the table for the semblance of privacy.

There was a little bit of shuffling and a rustling sound that sounded like clothing shifting, but otherwise, there was no sign of Aria on the other line. After a good thirty seconds of the same sound on repeat, Thad began to suspect that he'd been butt-dialed in Bug's haste to wrangle one of his little goblin students, but something told him to try one more time before hanging up.

"Bug! Can you hear me?" He asked, raising his voice a little louder just in case his tablet was set to a lower volume.

Despite his efforts, the shuffling sound continued and Thad's eyes rolled with frustration at his precious time being wasted, crabbing at the idea of being baited into working himself up over nothing. He went to pull the phone away, grumbling the entire time, but before he could get it more than an inch away from his ear, yet another sound froze his muscles into place.

Because it wasn't just any sound... It was a whimper.

Aria's whimper.

"Please..." A barely-there voice sounded into Thad's ear, and although it was hazy, he didn't even have to use a single brain cell to recognize it as Bug's. His body, his soul, his entire being just knew.

"I– I don't know what's happening to me... H-Help... I need you."

_

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