Valentine's Drabble

Pogo was bored. He had no plans for the night and rather than sit there and dwell on that fact he decided to check the rest of the house in hopes of seeking some company.

He saw Ginger as entered the room, he made a odd noise as he eyed the drummer - he wasn't exactly the most fun to hang out with in the keyboardists eyes. Still, he stepped closer as Ginger was shuffling around and said "Hey"

He got a small smile as a reply, he realised then, the only way they would be hanging out is if Ginger could be messed with some way. Anyone as quiet as Ginger was boring as fuck according to Pogo. So that's why, before he would continue with the plan to torture the drummer he asked
"Where's Twiggy?"

"He's out, not sure who with.... some valentine thing" Pogo shifted from foot to foot, looking to the floor in slight frustration. Fucking stupid valentines day, but he swallowed his pride; "You wanna hang out?"

"I'm on my way out, maybe tomorrow?" Ginger offered and Pogo just hesitated a sure as he watched the other man walk out

Immediately kicking the wall in frustration when he did. Valentines day was fucking stupid, and since when did the rest of the band go out to celebrate it?
No Twiggy, No Ginger.

He just walked out though, not giving up on his mission to avoid spending the night alone. As he walked into the front mans room it was kind of obvious he was getting ready; leaning over a table as he looked into the mirror and held a eye contact in one hand. His eyes shifted to Pogo when he entered the room, then back to himself

"Hey" Pogo breathed out as he walked in further, his head moving to look around at everything and before he could start grabbing things and talking non stop the singer spoke up

"Do you want something Pogo?"

"Um no... well actually what are you doing tonight? Are you going out too? I just spoke to Ginger and then he left and he said Twiggy has gone out. I don't get why, I mean sure it's the day you're supposed to get romantic and buy shit. But that's all it really is isn't it?..." He went on and the dark haired man clenched his teeth and leaned back up, still with the contact in his hand waiting to be put into his eye. He turned to look at his keyboardist who was still talking, not even taking notice of him.
"I mean no offence, if you want to celebrate it then that's fine, I wouldn't do it but.."

"That's because you have nobody to do it with" Manson replied blankly and Pogo actually stopped talking, sadness flashed through his mind and he bit the inside of his lip as the other sighed heavily and turned back to the mirror.
Pausing before saying "I'm going out Pogo. Go do something somewhere else"

The other man nodded but stayed in place his mind now clouded with the earlier boredom mixed with anxiety about being bored mixed with a fuck tonne of other stuff after that little comment. So he stayed in place, staring at the wall as his thoughts began to race.

"Why the fuck are you lingering around? I'm busy!" Was Mansons last words to Pogo before the keyboardist grunted and moved outside the room to let him slam the door shut.
Which was pretty pointless, he would be heard about 40 seconds later opening it again to leave.

Pogo stormed away through the house sitting down on the couch with a loud thud. He folded his arms and was sat with a frustrated pout on his face.
One part of his mind telling him that Manson was right; he was just bored and bitter because he had nobody special to spend time with. He never had anybody special to spend time with, he was always left on the side and who would even want to be with somebody as bitter as he was anyway. Nobody. He would never be getting ready and being busy and going to meet somebody that would make him smile randomly and make him want to actually use this dumb holiday as a excuse to shower them with attention, and maybe get some in return.
Another part of his mind though tried to reason with him by saying fuck it all. It was all pointless and he was right to think like that. He could just go out and fuck some stranger in a bar. Then, again, Mansons words wormed their way back in and triggered more bad thoughts. That he could go and do that but he would still wake up lonely tomorrow. He still wouldn't have anyone. Whoever he slept with would be there for his dick and that's it.
Then that's when he came to the final conclusion: Nobody will ever want him because he is fucking crazy.

He heard a noise and although it didn't free him of his thoughts it did register with him enough for him to wonder what it was, he had assumed everyone was out. But he just continued sinking into the negativity. Drowning in bad thoughts.

He felt somebody walk in the room however but didn't look up until the couch dipped.
Zim.

The guitarist smiled softly as he sat next to Pogo, turned sideways to face him and he chirped "Hi"

Pogo was happy he was there. Well less anxious and sad and everything else he was right then. Zim was kind of his favourite person at the moment. But he stayed in the tense position and asked plainly; "You going out too?"

Zim shook his head and Pogo eyed him, confused. He had a bit of make up on and was dressed up a little. "You look good" the keyboardist mumbled out and it earned a smile and a light "Thank you" from the other man.

"Is something wrong?" Pogo shrugged and although his muscles where slowly unclenching he still had his arms crossed and a pout on his lips as he mumbled "Manson was just a asshole"

He was hoping Zim would just say oh and leave it there but he knew he wouldn't. And he didn't. He just stayed in the same position and when Pogo looked up he gave him a look as if he was waiting for him to finish.
Pogo let out a deep breath, his hands falling to his sides and body shifting. He hated talking to anybody about anything that went on in his head. He felt it made him look weak and highlighted what a freak he really was.
He sounded exasperated when he spoke again; "It's just everyones out and I'm not and everyone dates except me and I go on about it and think about it too much and then I realise how stupid it all is and I'm stupid for thinking about it and I'm crazy and nobody will want me anyway"

Zim became puzzled, Pogo was obviously wound up by whatever Manson had said to him and the things he said, although he might of sounded casual and off handed showed him that he must not think highly of himself. And Zim felt a twinge of sadness because out of all the band, he liked Pogo the best. He thought he was amazing. And although he didn't want to admit to that he wanted to admit to something else.
Something which he was planning on doing anyway but seen this as the perfect opportunity.

Zim placed a shaky hand on Pogos broad shoulders as he leaned in, the older man turning in confusion but as he was about to speak he was met with a pair of soft lips pressed against his and he didn't fight it. In fact he smiled into the kiss and became even happier when both of them opened and their eyes closed and they began to swirl together. This response made the black hair man calm, both his hands now resting on the others shoulders and gripping his t shirt slightly, like wise Pogos mind and body had calmed in a instant and he wrapped his own arms around the smaller waist in front of him.
They pulled apart both deep breathing now, arms still in place and smiling slyly at each other. Zim stroked Pogos shoulders softly as he spoke;
"You know, I'm kind of into crazy guys."

To which Pogo growled and dived on him as they both giggled.