Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

     Cobalt never had any alone time. Like, ever.
Bucko was to blame for that. Ever since Cobalt had gotten caught with Crimson in the Pepper Patch, Bucko just wouldn't get off his dick about it.
"You know why I won't let you stay here alone," Bucko would say.

    And Cobalt did know. He knew the rules. The one principle every bee knows: Red and Blue bees are rivals. They are not to interact with each other if not in a coordinated attack. Cobalt knew this. Everyone knew this.

    Yet Cobalt couldn't help but wonder how things would be different if Crimson were blue, or even colorless. Would his family still harbor shame for his love, over a simple hue? Would he still have to suppress these emotions? Pretend they don't exist? Pretend it was all just an experiment, nothing serious? That this was all just a phase? Would it still be this way if she were Blue?

    But those are the rules. Blue bees don't fall in love with Red bees. They just don't. Those were the rules, and Cobalt knew he was supposed to follow them, but here he was with a Red bee in his bed and a pit in his stomach because no matter how right it felt, it wasn't.

    "Cobalt."

    The words snapped him out of his thoughts. Crimson had this way of doing that, distracting him from the whirlwind that was his mind. It was like a chilly breeze on a hot day, if you get too much, you might even feel numb.

    "Hm? Wh.." His voice came out soft, almost sleepy.

    "You're not listening to me," the heavenly red bee said.

    Crimson had large, round, and vibrant red eyes. Two prominent white spikes protruded along her back. Her skin around her eyes was clear and white, kind of like a supervillain's mask.

    "Sorry," he replied, the guilt apparent on his face.

    "I just..." Crimson started, her voice trailing off. "It feels like you're embarrassed or something."

    Cobalt didn't know exactly what that meant. Not that he knew the context anyway. After all, he wasn't the most attentive of bees.

    "What?"

    "Do you even care?" Passion filled her words as she spoke.

    "Wh.."

    "Stop saying 'what,' I want a real answer."

    He began to suspect she was mad at him. He was mad at himself. Why was he like this? He wanted to listen and care about whatever she was saying, but it felt like the words would just travel right through him. Of course, he just had to ask "what." Typical Cobalt.

    "I-"

    "Am I just an excuse to do something you shouldn't? An experiment?"

    She seemed offended. He was starting to understand, but at the same time this was making less sense the more words spewed out of her mouth.

    "What? No, why w—" Cobalt paused to think about his words. "Tell me why you think that."

    "You only ever want to hang out with me when you're alone. It's like... it's like you're embarrassed to be around me or something."

     For some reason this almost enraged him.

    "I'm a Blue bee. I can't..." What was he supposed to say? "I can't love you therefore I'm going to pretend I never did and try to forget about you?"

    Crimson stared at him. He couldn't tell what exactly it meant, but he sensed it was nothing good.

    "I don't really give a damn about the way you touch me when we're alone," Cobalt began, "but in the end, we're not meant to be together. I'm blue and you're red. That's just... the way it is."

    The pit in his gut nearly swallowed him whole in that moment. He tried not to show the guilt that was eating him alive. Crimson just looked hurt.

    "Okay then. I.. guess I'll leave."

    "Wait don't go!"

    Cobalt instantly regretted those words. He had nothing more to say after that, and hell he didn't even know why he wanted her to stay so badly.

    Crimson turned around one last time, just to be met with silence. Regretful silence.

    Cobalt felt like such an idiot. Always saying the wrong things at the wrong time, never thinking anything through. Barely thinking at all.

    The idea that he'd used her like this made him feel sick. And as she cautiously stepped down the stairs, the urge to chase after her only grew stronger. But it wasn't strong enough. And neither was he.

    This was the end. He was going to move on and fall in love with a blue bee— perhaps even a colorless bee, but that's a bit of a stretch— and he would live happily ever after. And so would she. It just wasn't meant to be.

Chapter Text

The sun began to set in the distance, casting a dim yellow light through the window of the Red HQ. The nearby roses bloomed, and beekeepers stormed in every now and then to collect pollen. Windy Bee had gone a bit feral in the Pumpkin Patch— according to Precise Bee— yet Crimson had no interest in attacking her. It'd been days since the ordeal with Cobalt, and she didn't feel so sad or even angry. It all just felt like a void, like a bottomless pit she'd never be pulled out of.

The sound of footsteps led up the stairs. Riley's head poked into Crimson's room, the sound of forced dinner conversation becoming louder. Technically, she shares a room with Precise, but she wasn't home very often. Precise frequently stayed out late with her boyfriend, Vicious. She'd either spend the night with him or come home at 3 in the morning, often intoxicated.

Vicious, a Blue bee, was an oddity because you never saw him at the Blue HQ. He was usually impaling someone with his piercing spikes or absolutely destroying a field. Crimson perceived him like he was colorless; most Red bees regarded him as "one of the good ones."

"You haven't been outside in like 4 days. What's the deal?" said Riley, her facial expression one of irritation but her voice hinted of concern. Riley was one of those bees who seemed like she could beat your ass (to be fair, she definitely could), but was truly a sweetheart inside.

"Sorry," Crimson mumbled.

"No, tell me. What's wrong?" She shut the door behind her, and the room was suddenly much darker than before.

"I'm tired."

This was partially true, but how could she explain her exhaustion when even she didn't comprehend it. There was nothing that could have drained her energy. She asked herself, "Why am I not getting up? Why am I doing nothing? Why don't I make use of myself?" And even when no answers came up, that feeling of being confined to her bed persisted.

"From what?" Riley almost sounded angry, but Crimson knew her well enough to acknowledge that she was really just concerned.

But why? Why was she concerned? There was nothing to be concerned about.

"I don't know. I'll get up tomorrow, I promise."

"You said that yesterday."

"Well this time I really promise.

Riley sighed. Crimson felt like a significant inconvenience right now. She had always been a stubborn, competitive, and confident bee— the stubborn part never left— but now she just felt like a wilted flower, rejecting any hydration.

"Okay," said Riley, barely above a whisper. "I made honey pie."

"Bring it u-"

"No, you're coming downstairs and eating with the rest of us." Riley said sternly.

"I'm not even that hungry," murmured Crimson.

"You barely touched your dinner. Come down and eat with us."

"Fine..."

Crimson slowly rose to her feet. Her vision blurred. It kind of looked like moldy snow, until it gradually faded to darkness. She reached for her dresser, her heart accelerating as she shuffled towards the door. Her head throbbed, perhaps even more intensely than her heart. By the time she turned the doorknob, her vision wasn't nearly as foggy, but her head remained hazy and aching as she drousily headed down the stairs.

"There she is!" Spicy Bee said with a smile.

Of course, that got everybee's attention. Their heads turned to face Crimson. They must be disgusted with me, she thought. Then she realized that truthfully, she was disgusted with herself.

"Even Shyshy showed up before you!" Rad Bee joked, to which Shy Bee sunk into her seat, appearing slightly mortified.

Crimson didn't find any of this humorous, considering it really just humiliated both her and Shy. Seeing her conceal herself like this evoked empathy within her. Crimson acted all tough and confident all the time, but right now every second that passed felt like torture. Rascal patted Shy on the back, and for a fleeting moment she wished it was her.

    Crimson, usually very engaged in dinner conversations, barely spoke this time. Most questions were directed towards Spicy. She had recently been accepted into Mountain Top University, so naturally, every distant family member had to know. This was similar to the praise she received when she won a Robo Bear Challenge. Precise and Crimson used to always compete, but not so much now that she had Vicious.

    To be fair, getting accepted into Mountain Top was a pretty huge deal. It was a prestigious university, and the campus was wonderful. Crimson wasn't particularly thrilled about engaging in mundane dinner conversation today anyway.
   
    "So, Crimson," Fire Bee started, "are you still doing those Robo Bear Challenges?"
   
    There it was. That same damn question.

    Crimson rolled her eyes. "You ask this every time."
   
    "Well, you and my daughter used to beg us for one more round. Y'all were the perfect duo."

   That was true. They were the perfect duo. But now Vicious was dominating the leaderboard, and it seemed much like Precise preferred him anyways. Crimson realized that they were probably doing Robo Bear Challenges without her, and it made her a bit dejected.
   
    "I haven't done a Robo Bear Challenge in a while," Crimson admitted.

    "Really? You loved them as a kid," said Fire.

    She thought it was a tad stupid that he had to make that statement. Obviously, she remembers her passion for Robo Bear Challenges, and really, she never outgrew it.

    "Yeah."

    The rest of the dinner wasn't much different than normal. Eventually, Crimson was released, and she immediately went back upstairs. Before going to her room, she took a second to look at her disheveled self in the bathroom mirror. Damn, she thought, I hate myself.

She then climbed back into bed and continued to scroll through TikTok.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。...・。.・゜✭・. ✫・゜・。..

9 P.M.

There was a knock at the window.

Startled, Crimson quickly sat up to see a pair of familiar geometrical glasses staring through the window. Her heart sank.

The bee outside mouthed, "open the window."

Crimson didn't hesitate, though she figured she probably should have. She carefully lifted up the window, unbothered by the ache in her head. All that mattered was the blue bee standing in front of her.

"Hey," Cobalt said breathlessly.

"Why are you here?" asked Crimson.

"Missed you."

He said it so nonchalantly. Almost like he didn't mean it. Almost like he did mean it.

    "You never sneak out," said Crimson.

    "True."

    What was that supposed to mean? Why was he sneaking out? And for her?

"How'd you get past Riley?" asked Crimson.

"I saw her out at the Rose Field. I just snuck around the hives with the help of Looker. Either way, I don't really care about getting caught. It's worth it to see you."

Crimson felt conflicted. Wasn't she supposed to be blushing and saying "aww, that's so sweet," and leaning in for a kiss? Is this not just the plot of Romeo and Juliet? For some inexplicable reason, she just felt irritated.

"Shut up," she responded. Not in the cute, joking way. She just wanted Cobalt to stop talking.

"Crimson, I'm here because I miss you."

"You already said that."

"I thought you didn't believe me when I said it the first time."

He wasn't wrong.

"Why do you miss me?" she asked, genuinely curious, because she didn't believe anyone could miss her.

There was a short pause.

"Is anyone home?" Cobalt asked, reaching out his hand.

Crimson shook her head before hesitantly taking his hand. She stepped back as Cobalt climbed through the window legs first into her bedroom. His scraped-up blue legs pushed over a red and black Squishmallow— Precise's— as he stumbled inside, using her hand for support. Once he was over the windowsill, Crimson tried to separate their fingers. There was a hint of disappointment on Cobalt's face. It made her feel a bit guilty.

    "You can hold my hand. No one's home," said Crimson.

She wasn't exactly sure if she'd said that out of pity, or because she enjoyed the feeling of their fingers intertwined. Both were equally plausible, and she recognized this as his palms settled on hers while all of her dread seemed to dissipate in this atmosphere.

"You've been alright?" Cobalt asks, then muttered, "Since you left.."

"Yes."

This was mostly true, or so she thought. Maybe she wasn't so active for a few days, but she wasn't sad, just... there. As if she were drifting through space, suffocating, the void offering no solace. But that was alright. All right.

Cobalt gazed into her eyes with an awkward smile. "Okay. That's good."

    There was a brief pause between the words "that's" and "good," followed by a longer pause as they both waited for the other to say something. The air between them almost felt moist with the unspoken reciprocal emotion they shared; it probably wasn't love, but something was there and they both knew it.

    Precise flew by in the distance, and she hoped she hadn't seen them together. Not that she'd care that much; not as much as most Red bees would.

    "Anything new?" Cobalt asked, likely in a desperate attempt to fill the silence.

    She'd usually have multiple answers to this question, but this time she had none.

    "No. Nothing new."

    "Really?"

    "Why do you care?"

She chokes out the words. It's not that she didn't want him to care, it just seemed nonsensical that he was interested in speaking to her.

"I don't know, I..." His voice trails off.

It seemed like he genuinely didn't understand. He glanced down at their intertwined hands. She then realized that they were both utterly clueless. It was oddly comforting, and like everything else she was feeling, she couldn't quite wrap her head around why.

"Okay." said Crimson.

Cobalt's eyes widened, and he looked back up at her.

"Okay," He smiled and chuckled sheepishly.

  "How have you been?" she asked.

"Oh uh..."

He paused.

"Y'know, the usual..." He chuckled, but it was clearly a forced laugh.

There was a familiar slicing sound far behind her.

"Shit, shit- go!" yelled Crimson.

"What?"

"Go!"

She motioned for him to leave, her heart starting to race. He leapt out the window just in time before the door swung open.

"It's Vicious. We're under attack."