Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There really wasn't anyone to blame but himself. This time, at least. The others had all told him, even the darn human had warned him. And yet he went ahead and went on live TV, performing his darned heart out. He really thought he was good, after so many years of practice... he had to be... right? Then why had everyone laughed? Why does everyone doubt his talents? They used to love his singing. What had changed over the years? Had he really gone... rusty?

Thoughts overflowed in his mind like a drain blockage, fogging up his right way of thinking. He can't focus on playing cool and pretending to be a good sport about this, not now at least. It's too much, it's overwhelming him.

And like a real blockage, his eyes overflow with tears. The stream from the showerhead sprays on his hair, making him all soppy and wet and concealing his tears. He was curled up in the corner of the bathroom, his designated spot, where he was hugging his knees to his chest and letting his steam fill the room. But he wasn't crying. Not openly.

Amir had, uncharacteristically and thankfully, let his glass fog up without so much as a complaint. Sinclair was quiet for once, as was hector and Jean‐Loo. It was odd seeing the bathroom so quiet without the very loud occupants that never shut up. If Johnny hadn't been so sure they all hated him, he would've thought they all noticed his sorrow and decided to give him some peace and quiet.

Johnny was very sure that they didn't know he was crying and upset. Because they would've given him dirty looks by now. Or at least an awkward one, right? Well, Johnny can't see their faces well through his cloudy vision, but they would've said something by now if they knew. They always have things to say.

Johnny was doing very well to hold in all the sobs and sniffles. He was doing a great job at hiding his tremors, too! So good in fact that he had no idea why he was suddenly being kicked in the shin by a porceline shoe, making him flinch.

Johnny wipes the snot from his nose as he glances up to the figure before him. Whatever face he made must've been bad, because the man before him scowls and wrinkles his nose before him.

"What can I do ya for, my good fellow?" Johnny puts on his best charming smile in face of the negative reaction in which he knows he'll get. Knowing he should mask the tremor in his hands, he sits up straighter and folds his hands in his lap. Not that the man before him was observant enough to catch it, anyway. He was sure of it.

Johnny just hates that the man who just had to interrupt his peaceful sorrow had to be the darned toilet of all people.

Jean Loo gives him a scoff, but he's crouching down next to Johnny to sit with him as if he didn't look totally disgusted right now. There's a real big gap between them still as the toilet takes a moment to think of the words before speaking. "Jean Loo wants to check if you are upset after today's... performance. He watched it and, eh... needless to say, it brought him embarrassment to be sharing the same walls as you." Those horribly trained lips of Jean Loo's always carry the worst venom. And they hit harder than anyone else's, Johnny finds. Perhaps it was just the prospect of something as childish as being bullied and the fact that Jean Loo was definitely one.

Johnny swallows down his dry throat pipe, feeling an odd sort of burn in it that troubles him. He cant seriously be wanting to cry over Jean Loo... The Lil Crapper. Gosh, he's pathetic.

Johnny's gaze averts without him really meaning to, avoiding eye contact with the rapper as if it would scorch him physically. Emotionally? Definitely. At least, in this state he's in.

Thankfully, Johnny doesn't have to force out words through the lump in his throat, as Jean Loo speaks before he can. Still with that same bite. "He thinks it would be stupid baby behavior to cry over the performance, as crying is for babies and Jean Loo hates babies. And crying."

Johnny can't help his brows from furrowing and his arms from crossing over his chest, not defensively but rather to shield himself. Or maybe to provide an imaginary comfort. It's so stupid to be getting upset over Jean Loo calling him a baby of all childish insults, but he can't stop it.

Jean Loo clears his throat and averts his own sharp gaze to glare at the wall. Johnny glances over in time to spot a little flush to the toilet's freckled cheeks. "So... Jean Loo thinks you should stop crying like baby. American Maestro isn't even cool, anyway. It preys on the weaker for having dreams and publically humiliates beginners. He does not know why you insist on idolizing a stupid show like that in the first place." ....Though he humiliates beginners too, so that was a little hypocritical of him to say.

There's a tense silence for a couple moments after that. Johnny can't make sense of what Jean Loo was trying to imply, or what his goal even is. Was he trying to pick on him, or boast about his own personal opinions? Or... was he trying to get him to stop crying in his own mysterious way?

Johnny huffs a breath through his nose and his lips purse as he gives the toilet a little frown. He was confused, damnit. "What are ya tryin' to say?"

Another pregnant pause lingers in the air around them, and if it hadn't been so humid Johnny would've thought he could even feel the tension between them.

Jean Loo's lips turn downward in a frown as he glances over to set Johnny a glare again. Johnny sometimes thinks the toilet's eyebrows are stuck furrowed like that. "Jean Loo is saying you are stupid to go on that stupid show lead by stupid people. You know how they poke fun at other artists, no? You of all people should know, because you watch that damn show almost as much as you spend in a day singing!" His rant is clear frustration as he waves his hands around with his usual passionate gestures, though more frantic. "Jean Loo has told you before the exploits of that show, no? Then why have you stupidly let them pick you apart in such a way?!"

Johnny falls silent, as he has been this entire time. But Jean Loo seems to find that annoying, as he snaps with exasperation. "Speak when I talk to you!! Tell me what— Tell Jean Loo why you didn't listen to him!"

Johnny tenses a little— not because of the rapper, but rather because of the sudden tears that brim his eyes and fall despite how hard he had tried to keep them in. The water from the stream masks it, though, he knows for sure. 100%.

Except Jean Loo's face falls to a look of discomfort. He leans away a little with a grunt of disgust. "Don't start crying, you pipeless baby... Jean Loo just told you why you should not be crying. Even if you were actually good at singing, they wouldn't have let you win..." he pauses before adding completely deadpan, "You do not have a sad enough backstory."

That had actually managed to make a small laugh bubble in Johnny's burning throat, mixed with a sob. He can feel his face growing warm, and the stream of water that had gradually grown cold doesn't help. But laughing seemed to be the correct action, as Jean Loo's face relaxes and he cracks a small smirk.

"Sorry..." Johnny sighed out, voice more wobbly than he would've preferred. "I just... feel more unstable than a horse jumpin' the fence and gettin' lost, y'know?" Jean-Loo scoffs at that horrible pun but he let Johnny continue without word. Johnny silently appreciates that and runs a hand through his sopping wet curls to calm himself. "I just don't understand... folks used to love my singin'. You used to like my singin', too! I dont understand what's changed."

Jean Loo frowns and cracks his neck idly as he averts his gaze to the wall again. "You've changed, that's what. Ya lost your spark. Don't have the pipes for it no more."

Johnny wrinkles his nose at that and looks to the wall as well, his lips pursing thoughtfully. Has he... really changed? Has he lost his talent?

He sighs and slumps back against the tiles with a sorrowful pout. "What's a shower without his pipes? I'm... not me anymore. Jus' a shell of the shower that once was."

But before he can really get into his dramatics, he's being elbowed in the side by a snickering toilet. "Shut it, big baby. You only think that way becuase you made singing your entire personality." Johnny gives him a a pointed raise of the eyebrow all deadpan that Jean Loo chooses to ignore. "Jean Loo knows that is not all you are. But do you?"

Johnny scoffs at that but cant help but pout as he looks away. The rapper had a point there... Johnny really doesn't know who he is other than a singer. Everything else isn't important.

"Okay... then who am I if not Johnny Splash?" he tests, raising a brow expectingly and just waiting for the toilet to fumble. Though, he should've known the rapper wasn't one to choke.

"You are just Johnny," Jean Loo answers with a puff of his chest and a tilt to his nose, all confident. "The dumb gentleshower with patience of steel and charm of a star. You grew up with two country loving parents and you love your little ugly dog more than your own horrible singing." All this sweet talk he was spewing was making the toilet scowl and blush in discomfort while saying it, but he was getting through it anyway... somehow. "And... you suck at figures of speech."

Johnny let out a soft laugh, his expression melting to one of fond amusement and gratefulness. Jean Loo was usually never so... genuine. It made Johnny feel a tightness in his chest he couldn't describe.

Johnny rests his cheek on his arms on his knees to look at Jean Loo with a small lopsided smile. "Then... who's Jean Loo?" His voice was quiet, almost too quiet to pick up over the showerhead. But Jean Loo hears.

And the rapper cracks the smallest of genuine smiles too. "That is for Jean Loo to know, and for you to find out. He does not just give out precious information so easily, you see."

That only encourages an easy laugh out of the shower, and the two share a moment of mutual fondness. The tension was gone, replaced with a lightness in the air that seemed to catch both of their hearts, releasing the squeeze that had been straining their chests.

Johnny and the others get a good rest that night. No singing, no running water, no rapping. All peace and contentment. And in the morning, Johnny feels a little lighter as he easily pesters his newest friend with an enthusiasm that Jean Loo could not yet handle. But he'll get used to it.

Chapter Text

Unfortunately for just about everybody else who possessed functioning ears in his vicinity, Johnny Splash had gained a whole lot more confidence just from he and the toilet's talk alone. Which meant he was determined to get back into his talent! This time, though, not quite singing. No, something far less grating for the eardrums.

And so there Johnny was, in the bathroom, using up the small space to gyrate his hips and dance like never before. He can't sing no more, sure, but he never lost his skill in dancing. He spins and flips around wildly, doing all his favorite dance moves, flicking his fingers and winking to the imaginary crowd and humming away to a song only he can hear. He bumps into a few other objects a few times, but that wasn't his fault. They should expect him to have his eyes closed while he belts out his heart, I mean, c'mon.

Someone let out a long, outstretched sigh from behind him when he bumps into the sink counter, but he pays the sink no mind. And then he goes and accidentally steps on someone's foot and he doesn't care to even flinch when the man yelps. He tries to keep dancing, but a hand is being placed on his shoulder, gripping tight and forcing him to turn around. Johnny spins, but of course with a flair of his hips and a cool little pose. "Hey, baby," Johnny drawls with a goofy grin and a flip of his wet hair, only slightly out of breath. "What can I do ya... for..." his smile slowly falters as he meets who he's faced with.

Amir. Just the man he'd rather never speak to. Just being in his presence makes Johnny get all hot and flustered and annoyed. It was all envy, alright? That man was just too pretty with his long, flowing hair and his... perfect looks... and damn, those eyebrows.

Amir clears his throat when he notices Johnny's ogling gaze and fixes the shower with a harsh glare that spoke of all his judgement. "Johnny! I've been calling your name for five minutes now!" That Johnny had been purposefully ignoring. The man shakes Johnny's shoulder to try to keep his attention when Johnny looks off with an annoyed purse of his lips. "I have no problem with you and your... gyrations... But I can't you do it somewhere else? Somewhere less cramped, perhaps? You almost cracked my mirror!"

Johnny let out a huff and fixes the perfect man with his own very judgemental look up and down— that he'd learnt from Amir specifically, ironically enough— and wrinkles his nose. "Why should I have to leave my space just because y'er jealous of my dancin'? I'm rehearsin' for tonight's show!"

Amir let out a long groan, half growl, as he runs a frustrated hand over his perfect face. "I-I am not jealous, Johnny, I'm sick of you. You're fogging up my glass with your horrendous shower and your horrible singing and dancing! And that's not even dancing, you're just making a bunch of poses and then spinning around!"

Just that little comment makes Johnny roll his eyes. He decides to show Amir just how casual he was about this, so he leans on his showerhead and hooks a thumb on his belt. "Sure is better than whatever you've got goin' on with your dumb shard act. That's why Eddie an' Volt don't let you on the stage no more after the... incident." He smirks a little, looking up to Amir's pretty face through his lashes and watching it wrinkle with anger and those cheeks flush with fluster. He loves it.

Amir let out a loud growl, visibly seething, hands squeezing into fists and shoulders tensing all the way to his ears. There wasn't a time where he'd ever not let Johnny get under his skin. "Do not bring up the incident! It was just bad luck! He cracked my mirror last year, remember?"

Johnny snorts at the memory. He still remembers it like yesterday; Sinclair had a little bit of some plumbing problems, and Tony had tried to fix them. He threw his wrench like an idiot, trying to do a trick to show off to Johnny, but the wrench flew straight to the perfect Amir. His old mirror used to be so large, so luxurious. And now it had to be replaced with a small dinky used one. Amir had never been angrier. Maybe that was why he picked Tony from the crowd for one of his shows, just to throw a shard on those steel pecs of his and get back at him. Tony didnt get hurt, it bounced right off, but the possibility still threw Eddie off on ever letting Amir do that act again.

Johnny rests an arm on his showerhead to give Amir a look that tells him just how amused he was. "Relax, pretty baby." He gives a smoldering look that Amir grits his teeth at. "I heard you made it up to the steely fella real good..." Amir looks about ready to burst into flames and drag Johnny to hell. But fortunately for Johnny, right as his lips part to snap at him, another voice butts in.

"Ladies, please," a familiar french accent serenades their little argument, making Johnny immediately perk up and smile wide. "It is much too early to go at it like the stray kitties on the streets." He puts his hands up placatingly, but it wasn't like Jean Loo would make Amir anything but more annoyed. "Lil Crapper thinks you two should shut the hell up before he goes insane from your grating voices."

Both Johnny and Amir let out similarly dramatic gasps, both clutching a hand to their chests as they both defend their honor. "My voice is not grating!" Amir argues, followed by Johnny's joking "How dare you!"

The Crapper snickers and leans against the shower's glass door with his arms crossed over his chest. A rather cool pose, if you ask Johnny. The shower in question disgards his little argument with Amir and his whole attention is on his newest friend. "Jean Loo!" He laughs happily as he throws his arm over the toilet's shoulders, who in return scowls and pushes him off of him. Johnny recovers in stride. "How're ya doin' today, my talented friend?" The Crapper sighs and shakes his head with exasperation as the shower grabs his arm and starts to try to coax him to dance. "C'mon an' join me, baby! Move that body! Don't crappers—" he almost laughs on that word "—know how to move their body? Shake it, baby!"

The french groans with annoyance and throws his head back to exclaim it to the gods above, if they even existed. If they did, they really hate Jean Loo, because Johnny hasn't stopped bothering him since that day when the toilet talked him out of crying. Either it was the shower snooping, clinging, singing, or insisting on dancing. Jean Loo was tired, alright? "Crappers do not dance like the male strippers," the french snarks with a wrinkle of his nose of disgust as he eyes Johnny's hip movements. "we breakdance. Which is one-hundred percent cooler and hotter than whatever the heck you're doing."

The shower's grin only grows and he bumps his hip to Jean Loo's, all in good fun. "Y'er darn right it is, baby! Show me some!" There's a moment where the toilet considers it, eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he stares at the shower dancing without music. Amir, in the background, is trying to pretend he doesn't know them.

And then, the toilet's lips curl into a lopsided grin as he pushes Johnny back to create space. "Alright, give the Crapper some room! He's about to bust a move and show you just what perfection looks like." He sends a wink Amir's way before dropping to the ground and beginning to do some crazy moves. Johnny cheers loudly as the rapper starts to spin on his back, then into a cool pose with his legs up in the air. Johnny wouldnt even be able to describe it if he tried, so this is my excuse to not write it.

"Woohoo!" Johnny excitedly claps his hands  the best cheerleader for his friend. "Get it, Crapper, get it! Uh-huh! Uh-huh!" Amir can't help but crack a small laugh as the two horrendously obnoxious men dance two very different dance styles together to music that wasn't even playing, only Johnny's out of tune humming. It was funny to watch as Johnny keeps getting accidentally kicked by the toilet breakdancing like his life depended on it.

It was... crazy. The shower was all hip swivels and spins, and the toilet was all hip-hop freestyle. Amir was thoroughly amused. Up until Johnny grabs him and pulls him onto the "dance floor" to get him moving. And as if witchery, Amir couldnt help but indulge in this embarrassing dance party. He dances a little along to the silent beat, trying to keep up with the two other's enthusiastic moves.

It ends with a bunch of giggles and breathless sassy remarks. Amir almost faints from exhaustion and how flushed his cheeks were from laughing. And Jean Loo had to deal with both Amir and Johnny leaning on him whilethey caught their breaths.

Poor Sinclair had to watch as the three men ended up passed out sat on the floor of the bathroom together. Needless to say, Johnny found himself happy to call two people his friends, even if both of them were too stubborn to say it back.

Chapter Text

Turns out, Johnny finds that they were bad friends. Here he was, at his amazing show, on the stage. This time around he was gonna dance a little and he so was excited to show the crowd his moves. He had been so excited he had invited the whole house! Like, literally. He went around inviting everybody.

And yet here he was, on the stage, looking out to a barren crowd. A few were there, two at the bar. Eddie and Volt. He had never seen them so relaxed before. Relaxed and annoyed. They've been glaring at him for a while now. He had driven away their patrons, Johnny can understand that. But don't they have any sympathy at all?

Here he stood, on a stage, about to perform to nobody. He almost wants to tell himself that maybe everybody forgot, or that another emergency came up or something. But... he knows, deep down, what it was. They just didn't want to watch him perform. Which was... fine. Johnny didn't care. Really, he doesn't. He wasn't about to tear up. He wasn't.

"Are you gonna pack it up, or what?" A bored voice drawled from the bar, mean and tired. It was Eddie. Volt didn't even care to say anything, weirdly enough. But Johnny can see how he's avoiding his gaze. It was pity.

The shower clears his pipe to try to get rid of the tightness he felt there. "No, ya see— they're comin', I know it. Just... takin' a while. I'm sure this is all a big ol' joke and that any second now they'll be burstin' in and yellin' surprise!!!" He let out a dry laugh as he tugs on the hem of his shirt idly, eyes darting to the entrance expectantly. Nothing. "....Any minute now."

Eddie groans from the bar, now getting closer to the stage. He starts waving at the shower. "Get outta here! They're not coming." Volt hurries to catch up to Eddie, and he places a hand on his shoulder. To stop him? Out of pity? Whatever. Johnny doesn't care.

"You can, uh... perform for just us, you know..." Volt has his beautiful charming smile on, inviting and warm. And Johnny almost wants to give in to that. But he can see the sympathy in his eyes, along with the disdain of having to listen to his performance. Volt doesn't want to.

Johnny grits his teeth and releases his harsh hold on the microphone. He takes a step back, almost hesitant. He wants to say yes, to play along with Volt's suggestion and act like even just giving one person a show was good enough for him. But it wasn't. Johnny walks to the edge of the stage and hops down with a sigh. Defeated, he pushes past the two bartenders and heads straight for the bar. The two follow after exchanging looks.

"Gimme a virgin," Johnny grumbled once he's slumped in a barstool. "I need to get drunk." His momma would slap him if she heard him say that. Sorry momma.

Volt chuckles from beside him as he slides into the seat next to him, and Eddie's already behind the bar preparing the drink. "Virgins aren't alcoholic, Johnny," Volt kindly informs him. "You can't get drunk off a virgin drink."

The shower purses his lips in a pout. "I know. Jus' wanna pretend." That earns him chuckles from both men, but he doesn't care enough to laugh along. He doesn't feel like it.

Soon enough, a drink is slid towards him on the bar. It was nicely made, some sort of fancy mocktail that he couldn't for the life of him remember the name of. He's never cared for the whole alcohol thing. He takes a long sip and sighs out in fake bliss at the taste. It wasn't his type of drink, but anything will do.

Yeah, he's getting wasted tonight. Wasted on fake alcohol. Who cares how silly other people think that is, its *his* way of coping. And at least it's healthier than a lot of other objects' coping mechanisms that he knows of.

"So, uh..." Volt tries to get him out of his thoughts and wraps an arm around his shoulders. "Heard through the grapevine that you and Jean Loo have been, uh... talking."

Johnny scowls at the mention of the obnoxious toilet who he had *thought* was his friend. With a scoff he turns his head away. "That's none of y'er business... and no, we're not talkin'. Not anymore." Not after today. How dare he not show up to his show? He had been the one who convinced him to! "He's pro'lly out there, making out with some guy and too busy to even show up to his friend's show... His very important show!"

Volt raises a brow of interest and he leans in slightly with a growing grin. "Woah, woah, what? What's been goin' on with you two, huh? I didn't know you two were friends now."

The shower let out a long sigh and slumps against the bar into his arms. He doesn't want to give the man gossip material. He really doesn't. But this was a bar, and he felt compelled to spill his life secrets to these bartenders. "We... We are sort of friends, yeah," he answers so quietly that Volt has to crane his head closer. "Or... maybe not. I can't tell if he still hates me or not. One day he's talkin' me out of cryin', and the next he's scowlin' at me and insultin' me through weird toilet puns. I jus' don't get him, y'know? He's so... odd."

Eddie snorts on his side of the bar as he polishes a glass. "Tell me about it..."

And so Johnny does. Even though he knows that's not what Eddie meant by that. "He just gets so mad at me for no reason sometimes. Like, yesterday I was buggin' Amir and foggin' up his mirror on purpose, but instead of writing on the fog like Jean Loo usually does, he snapped at me. Told me I sounded like some girl how much I was gigglin'."

Volt let out a soft laugh as he and Eddie exchange another look. "Almost sounds like he's jealous, Johnny."

That earns the bartender a scowl as Johnny turns his head to give him a glare. "As if. He gets so many ladies and fellas, no way would he be greedy enough to try to get me, too."

Eddie sucks his teeth with a barely concealed grin of amusement. "And I assume he was the one who told you how many lovers he gets?" Johnny, oblivious, nods. And that makes Volt let out a hearty laugh as he slaps Johnny's back. "Oh, Johnny! Sorry to say, but he hadn't left this breaker box with a person on his arm since, like, the early twenty-tens."

That makes Johnny pause a moment as he processes that. With a small flush to his cheeks he glances over to Volt with uncertainty. "And... ya sure?" Volt nods, along with Eddie. That just makes Johnny groan and bury his head in his arms again. "Why must this be so darn confusin'?"

Volt let out a chuckle as he pats Johnny's back with a small "there, there." It doesn't help Johnny relax much.

Not much can anymore. Except... you-know-who.

That night, Johnny left the breaker box fake stumbling and slurring his way back to the ground floor bathroom. People give him looks on his way there, and he purposefully stumbles into one.

The moment he slumps against the wall in his usual post in his shower, there comes a knock to his glass walls. Which was... annoying. He only just got back.

He glances up, putting on a show of batting his beautiful long eyelashes and looking in a daze. "Hey, baby," he feigned slurring. "Come to give a fella some... company?" He gives a flirtatious smirk, hoping it was inviting.

He was earned a kick to his shin, making him jolt with a sharp gasp. Of course, what else would he expect from Jean Loo?

"Why are you drunk?" The toilet asks with clear disgust and annoyance, which makes Johnny pout. "You been hanging with Beverly lately?"

Johnny scoffs with a shake of his head. He looks away to the wall, scowling at it pointedly as he brings his knees to his chest. "No. Volt an' Eddie. Had a few drinks after my show that I performed tonight at the breaker box... that you didnt come to."

The toilet opens his mouth to speak, probably to angrily make an excuse, but Johnny interrupts with a grumble. "...You and everybody else."

Yeah, he was upset. Upset and petty. He wanted Jean Loo to know that. He wants him to know that he was mad at him. And a small part of him wants him to know that he's a little sad, too.

Jean Loo scoffs after a moment of tense silence that lingers between them, before finally, he crouches down to join Johnny. Again. Like the last time. It wasn't like the rapper *had* to stay here while he was sad, but he was. And that makes Johnny tear up despite himself trying his darned hardest not to.

"...Jean Loo was..." the toilet starts, only to stop himself with a huff and a narrowed gaze elsewhere. "...thought... that there would be a crowd. He had already watched your performance a hundred times before you got on stage, anyway. He thought it would be fine if he didnt show."

Johnny sniffles, and he's kinda glad he does, because it alerts Jean Loo that he was actually crying. The man beside him tenses a little, glances over, before sighing. "...Jean Loo apologizes," he says softer than usual, making something weird in Johnny's chest flutter. He doesn't think his pipes were meant to do that. "he... he didn't think you would be so upset."

A small silence lingers between them again, awkward and tense. Johnny doesn't say anything. Doesn't really want to. He just want to keep hearing Jean Loo's voice talking to him, wants to hear that accent soothe him from his nerves.

"...He will come to the next show for sure," the rapper assures quietly, a little awkward where his cheeks were flushing in embarrassment for having to apologize. He wasn't good with feelings. "And... Will maybe join one day, too."

Johnny perks up at that and looks to Jean Loo with widened eyes of shock. Jean Loo... wants to perform with him? With him?

"Ya... Ya really wanna?" He asks, now brightened and hopeful as he wipes his tears from his eyes and eagerly scoots closer. "Ya wanna share the stage with little ol' me?"

Jean Loo's face flushes red with a scowl and he places a hand on Johnny's head to push it away. It makes Johnny laugh. "Yeah, whatever. Only once, though. Jean Loo will see how our talents mix. If it is horrible and you make a fool out of Lil Crapper, then I will T.P. your shower."

Johnny snorts at that image in his head of his shower, and himself, being covered in toilet paper. He finds it funny. "...Deal. I look forward to seein' you on stage with me, pard'ner." He gives a small nudge to Jean Loo with a growing smile and watches as the rapper's own smile grows as well.

Jean Loo soon stands, bidding him goodnight with a forced scowl again. But Johnny's smile never leaves, not even when Tyrell starts to scold him for starting to hum so late in the night again.

Jean loo gets a good rest, lulled by a lullaby and the knowledge that he had, again, made someone feel better. No, not just someone, he had made Johnny feel better. That made him feel better, too.

Chapter Text

Johnny wakes up the next morning, glances around to see that everyone else was still asleep, and then proceeds to groan as loud as he could. 

A few jolt awake. A particular sink remains dead asleep, murmuring about whatever and whoever. But everyone else wakes up. And that, in turn, earns Johnny a few groans. It was a groaning party, and Johnny was the trendsetter. 

"Can't even get a wink of sleep 'round here..." grumbles a soft towel who gives Johnny a hard glare. 

And Amir wasn't really groaning, he was more... growling to himself, looking about ready to scratch someone's face off with his perfectly manicured claws that Johnny was totally not freaked out about. 

And lastly, Jean Loo was giving Johnny an annoyed look. Which was the only look Johnny was looking for. 

Johnny scoots over to Jean Loo, sitting right next to where the toilet was slumped against the wall, and groans again louder. In his ear. directly in his ear. And like the universe hated the poor toilet, the ballcock parrots the groan, causing a muscle in the rapper's jaw to twitch. He was irritated. Annoyed, even. Maybe pissed off.

"Oh, boy am I just feelin' lower than my good ol' hound dog in a cone!" Johnny whined out with a hand to his head and a dramatic fall into Jean Loo's side. "My head's a throbbin', my stomach is achin'... How can I sleep when it's hauntin' my wakin'!" 

Jean Loo let out a small scoff with the slightest of a curl upwards of his lips of pure amusement. He tries to push Johnny's head off his shoulder, but Johnny persists, standing strong. "...How can Jean Loo sleep with all the noise ya makin'?" the toilet had snarked back, earning him a chuckle from the shower and an elbow to his side. 

"No, but really..." With a sigh, Johnny slumps further on Jean Loo, almost with all of his weight. Jean Loo tries not to falter from it. "My head's a hurtin', Jean! I fear I've got what ya folks call... a hang under." 

A snort leaves the toilet and a roll of his eyes, clearly disbelieving. And he'd be right about that. "Jean Loo thinks you are full of shit, Johnny. You wouldn't get a hangover. You don't drink." 

Johnny tries to hide the grin that was growing on his face by hiding it in Jean Loo's shoulder. To really hide it good, he let out a loud groan. "That was 'fore my life turned 'round for the worst, baby. Ya see, after that whole fiasco at the breaker box... I had me a couple'a drinks." 

A rough voice clears their throat by the doorway of the bathroom and mumbles a small "virgins, actually." 

Johnny ignores the door to throw his arms around Jean Loo with even more of his weight. A perfect distraction that totally works. "Ya see, I was just so sad! Nobody showed up for my performance, no sir... And so I drank my sorrows away, all on my lonesome... with Volt an' Eddie." 

The rapper chooses not to correct his use of 'lonesome' and instead tries to push him off, to no avail. He huffs. "So now you think you've got a hangover...? Hangovers are for baby lightweights. Jean Loo thinks that is childish." 

Johnny was about to pout and groan more in Jean Loo's ear about it, but he's momentarily distracted by another hand on his shoulder that definitely wasn't Jean Loo's. Johnny can see that both of the toilet's hands he was keeping to himself. 

And so Johnny glances over, right as the man in question give him a concerned comment. "Johnny? Are you hungover? I didn't know you drink..." 

It was Amir. Amir and his stupidly perfect face and his stupidly perfect lips forming a frown that Johnny wanted to wipe away. 

With a desire to be as bothersome as he possibly can, Johnny leaves Jean Loo's shoulder to slump on Amir's instead, dramatically with a whine. "Oh, Amir, my handsomest fellow! Save me! Save me from my misery!" 

What Johnny didn't expect was sincere concern in Amir's soft gaze as he settles onto his knees and wraps his arms around him. He pats Johnny's back with a small "there, there" that makes Johnny momentarily stunned.

He had expected Amir to see through his bullshit just like Jean Loo had, and maybe that he would play along or get annoyed. But then again, Amir didn't really know him as well as Jean Loo did. 

But Johnny accepts this reaction all the same, finding himself melting into the man's embrace with a small flush to his cheeks and the softest of smiles. He hadn't been in the arms of another since... heck, he doesn't even know how long. 

The toilet, watching awkwardly by the side, scoffs at that. Watching Johnny be pampered for lying was just such an odd sight to see. Especially by Amir of all people...

But he leaves it be. If Johnny wanted it, then who is he to get in the way of it? 

But then Johnny murmurs to Amir that Jean Loo had a hangover too, with that evil little grin on his face, and Jean Loo is reminded why he always feels like kicking his shins. Because next thing he knows, Amir is cooing and pulling him in, too. 

"Oh, you poor, poor, souls..." Amir wraps his arms around the two of them and gives them both a squeeze. "Perhaps I should get Farya to help soothe the ache.." 

The two immediately start shaking their heads frantically. "No, no! That isn't needed!" "Suddenly, Jean Loo is cured..." 

Amir chuckles a little as he holds the two close and comfortably, one on each shoulder. Johnny had already melted into him like he was trying to fuse their skin together, but Jean Loo was a lot more tense and reluctant to relax. 

Nothing Amir can't fix. His hand trails up to the back of the rapper's head and he gently scratches his scalp. Like magic, it causes the rapper to finally relax and let out a soft sigh. 

Jean Loo wasn't comfortable with so much physical contact, to be honest. It made him feel weird. But... it felt a little nice to indulge, just this once. Even if he didn't like contact, he was still a little starved for it. 

Amir was a great cuddler, anyway. He liked to coddle and pamper with compliments and kisses and sweet nothings that could get anyone to fall in love with him. Jean Loo couldn't even describe the security he feels in Amir's arms into bars, really. 

And Johnny was... a welcome addition. He was a total snuggler, taking up all the space and practically going limp in both of their arms. He, too, murmurs some praise here and there, but it's mostly just content humming coming from his lips. 

Jean Loo ends up falling asleep first. Curse Johnny's humming for being so much less out of tune than his singing, because it had lulled him to sleep faster than melatonin could. 

Johnny was next, not too long after Jean Loo. And that left Amir awkwardly having to hold them both upright as they slept in his arms. He liked it, yeah, but it was a little much having to hold up two limp heavy men. 

Amir tries to shift his position a little, what with his knees starting to ache, and he was met with disgruntled grumbles from both men in their sleep. It was a funny sight and made Amir laugh a little, but he was still stuck there and it wasn't that funny when your knees are on the line. 

He tries to maneuver their bodies to lean them against the wall, and it does work. the two immediately lean on eachother, and surprisingly, Jean Loo was the first who unconsciously nuzzled into Johnny's chest. 

Amir joins, after finding a more comfortable position. And that was their little cuddling session. 

When the two men awake, they were met with Amir handing them glasses of water and food. They live like luxury that day, with Amir taking good care of them even after Johnny admitted he had lied about being hungover and drinking. Amir didn't mind. It gave him an excuse to shower them in affection and watch their cheeks flush when he gives a good compliment. 

Amir was so whipped for these two horribly annoying dramatic artists. But really, he couldn't imagine being any other way. Even if they do piss him off to no end.

Chapter Text

Usually, Jean Loo would never risk anything like this. He wouldn't ever openly show his insecurities or even glance at himself in the mirror on any usual day. But everyone was out. Everyone. Including Amir, who was dragged off by Bathsheba earlier. Meaning Jean Loo was alone in the bathroom, having the space all to himself.

And so here he was, staring in the mirror and eyeing himself with judgement. The same judgement he sees in everyone else's eyes when he speaks to him. He can't blame them, really. He wasn't the best looking. Fancy clothes can only do so much.

He looked tired, with prominent eye bags and spaced out freckles that he couldn't get rid of no matter what he does. He had frown lines, his hair looks weird and feels weird to touch, and his smile looks so awkward when he practices in the mirror.

He hates it. He hates it all. And everyone else does, too. He's sure of it.

He wasn't the type to be loveable or charming. Not in the way Johnny was. People get annoyed with Johnny, but never do they hate him. Nobody does. Johnny was a sweet guy, charming and silly. But Jean Loo?

Hah. Yeah, no. He doesn't think he's ever met anyone who didn't hate him from the first conversation.

Right as his practiced smile falls and he's frowning again as he looks closer to his reflection to degrade himself internally more, another reflection comes from the doorway and he yelps in surprise. He turns with a furious look, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment because of the sound he had made. "Amir! What, are you trying to cosplay that one scary lady named after the drink, eh... Boody Mary? Do you just not believe in knocking or something?"

Amir scowls at even the mention of the myth and a muscle in his jaw twitches. Jean Loo tries not to be satisfied by that. "Jean Loo," he sighed out. "I could not help but notice how you are looking at yourself... As if you do not like what you see."

Jean Loo stiffens at the mere suggestion that Amir knows his insecurities. He hates that. He doesnt want anyone to know about that. "Shut up, shiny man. I was just looking at a stain on you, obviously. When was the last time you were washed, hm? Because Jean Loo notices it has been a while."

Amir is taken aback a moment, blinking in surprise. Then, he let out a scoff of offense as he places a hand to his heart. "That is bold, coming from you. I cannot remember the last time the human cleaned you. Don't you see the amount of dust collecting on the top of your lid?"

That causes Jean Loo to wrinkle his nose and glance back to his toilet form, eyeing the dust collecting. Amir was right, but Jean Loo doesn't care much. He shrugs, nonchalant and uncaring. "Yeah, you act like Jean Loo cares. Which he doesn't. Anyway, he thought you were busy stroking that princess' ego and swapping saliva with her or whatever the hell you two get up to." He leans against the sink counter, trying to act all casual and change the subject away from himself. It makes the mirror frown.

He flips his gorgeous hair over his shoulder and sighs out. "We do not swap saliva, azizam. And I was not stroking her, either. She wanted compliments, and I simply gave her what she needed."

That brings a scoff out of Jean Loo and a roll of his eyes. "That is what stroking egos means, Amir. You give out unnecessary compliments, not genuine, just to suck up to everyone around you."

Amir's face wrinkles with confusion and slight offense. "What are you even saying, azizam? Do you really think I am dishonest? I speak the truth, Jean Loo. If I see beauty, I will say so."

All those nice words make Jean Loo scowl as he crosses his arms over his chest and look him up and down. Judging. "Yeah, but apparently you see the beauty in everything. I think you're full of shit."

He was so bothered by him, and it was making Amir so dang lost. He doesnt understand where this was coming from. "Is it so wrong to see the beauty in everyone? Why can't I express what I see?"

Jean Loo huffs at that and rubs his eyes tiredly. He didn't want to have this argument again with Amir. The man never understands. "Fine. Whatever. Jean Loo is too tired for this."

He waves a dismissive hand, but Amir stops it and takes it in his own. The look he gives Jean loo makes the rapper's cheeks flush and a weird sensation in his belly. "Azizam..." He gently pulls him closer, looking into his eyes with the utmost sincerity and admiration that could bring him to his knees. "Please do not be like this. You know I am truthful with every word, every compliment I give you. You are beautiful, Jean Loo. Like the raging thunder storms, angry and intimidating but so very pretty."

Jean Loo is momentarily stunned, eyes wide, cheeks flushed red, and jaw dropped. For once, he can't find the words to respond. Nothing to retaliate. He chokes. What could he even say?

"You are gorgeous, azizam," Amir's soft voice soothes in his ear, warm and inviting and flustering. Jean Loo could almost feel his heart beating out of his chest. "and I hate to see you look at yourself the way you do. If I could make you see yourself the way I see you, I would. I would give anything for it."

Jean Loo turns his face away and scrunches his face up into a scowl, trying to play annoyed. He pushes against Amir's chest to put space between them, needing the space. Amir gives. "Sh-shut up! Don't try to flatter Jean Loo! It does not work, you see... He has a resistance to such things."

Amir gives him a knowing look, the slightest of smiles. Jean Loo tries to ignore the way it makes his stomach flutter with butterflies.

The rapper clears his pipes a little too loudly and steps away from Amir to sink into his usual spot. His face felt like it was on fire. Actually, everything in his body did. Which... definitely wasn't normal. But Amir, bless his soul, chooses to leave him be.

The mirror sighs, as if exasperated, but fondly so. He leaves the bathroom without another word, but not without a last glance to the flustered rapper. A warm smile. One that makes Jean Loo's stomach fill with butterflies.

Dorian clicks shut softly behind Amir. And again, Jean Loo is left alone with his thoughts and all his doubts. He refuses to believe Amir was truthful. He had to be messing with him. It was a trap, it had to be.

Jean Loo's face falls to his knees where he sat against the wall and he let out a loud groan.

Curse him, curse Amir, curse everyone. Hell, while you're at it curse him, too.

Because his heart can't handle the way Amir makes him feel.