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"Are you sure this is fake?"

Summary:

Cosmo still isn’t used to being this lonely. He still isn’t used to laying in his bed alone during the weekends, or watching a movie while eating popcorn during the weekends. He isn’t used to sitting in class beside someone he doesn’t know, he isn’t used to eating lunch alone, or walking home alone.

It’s been a while.

Cosmo isn’t over it.

 

or...

Cosmo and Sprout were childhood besties, randomly Sprout ditched him when 8th started. Now, they're in 11th grade, Sprout's popular, Cosmo is a reject, and... Cosmo isn't over it.

Notes:

Summary is ass because I couldn't really find a way to give this a summary... ALSO please read the fic linked above... or below— that's my inspiration!! and the story I sortaaaa took the prompt from.. I mean it's a cliche, and back when I was fic deprived and using chat gpt to write me fics for me to read (Listen. I was desperate, Chat's no longer jailbreaked so I resent him wtv...) I also uhh requested some very similar so blehhh... yeah I'm writing my own bc I love this trope, and bc our dearest author hasn't posted in months WAHHHH...

okay anyways lol please do read theirs, bc they're what pushed me to say "YEAHH I should write this too!!! in my own way!"

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: A repeat of our last Saturday

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It’s the same repeat, every weekend, every Saturday. 

 

Cosmo doesn’t know why he keeps doing it— or why no matter how different his room is, he always ends up thinking of Sprout or pretending that he… was… there. With him. It’s been years, and he’s still so hung up over it. At first, he was angry. Angry that Sprout would just… leave him, pretend he doesn’t exist, push him away. But after that anger dissipated all Cosmo could feel was the gnawing feeling of guilt.

 

Even if it rained, he’d end up going to that park. Every Saturday thinking back to the last day they were together as friends. That’s what he’s doing now anyways. Sitting on the goddamn bench, hoodie over his head, hands in pocket as it poured. What did he do to Sprout? He remembers that day as if it was yesterday. 

 

He remembers it as if it was today, as if it was happening just now. He still returns, he still sits on the same bench for hours thinking ‘Why did you stop talking to me?’. He cycles through every event of that day, recalling every word they said. He still turns up empty handed. 

 

So, he goes home. He cries in bed, and spends the whole week trying to not glance over at Sprout when he’s near, trying to ignore every little bit of him— he doesn’t get how Sprout does it. He misses Sprout so much, he misses his best friend. What did he do wrong? 

 


 

bzzzz, bzzzz, bzzzz

 

Cosmo groans, shifting in bed trying to ignore the insistent buzzing, trying to go back to sleep. He doesn’t want to go today, he’s tired, and he… can’t bear seeing Sprout. 

 

bzzzzzz, bzzzz

 

Another groan erupts from his throat as he turns over, opening his eyes to look at the buzzing phone with resentment. He grabs it lazily— oh. 

 

It’s Poppy… at… 4am. Seriously? Why did she call him at 4am? He decides it’s better to know why than to worry about her later, after all what if she’s doing something stupid and he wasn’t there to prevent her— As soon as he swipes the answer icon a loud ecstatic irritating voice erupts from his phone.

 

“Cosmo! There’s no school today!!! Can you believe it?— Oh my bubble solution-” Poppy’s voice is non-surprisingly loud for someone who isn’t on speaker; to be fair, the girl is loud at school too. That’s why she gets in trouble in class so much, she can’t whisper. Cosmo makes a noise at the news, a sleepy content noise. He’s too tired to talk, so he just listens to her voice, without processing a word. Until he falls asleep again. 

 

She’s a good friend, irritating at times- but she’s a good friend. He can’t help but think, maybe she’ll do what Sprout did, and Cosmo hates the fact his brain repeats to him that… ‘it won’t be the same, would you even miss her after a month?’ He can’t help, but question that himself. He tries distancing himself from his thoughts or- what he questions about himself. 

 

He wishes that he could just stop thinking, that, yawn, Sprout’s the only one he would miss like that… that he could just sleep at night in peace…. Without thinking about how much he misses him. 

 

Cosmo through bleary vision swipes up on his phone, to look at his ‘notification center’ thingy… he doesn’t know the name for it, so he just… oh. It’s March 23rd. Sprout’s birthday is— tomorrow. For a moment there, in the back of his head, he wondered. ‘What should I get Sprout!!! He has like everything… hmph’ the thought had the voice of a 6th grader, him. He couldn’t give Sprout anything that year. His family was running low on funds, and the focus was to support the family. Sprout didn’t mind. He was happy Cosmo even came.

 

Cosmo just wants to forget Sprout ever existed, to never see his face again, and to never think about him again. But his thoughts would get lonely if he did. 

 

Cosmo yawned one last time before the blear caught up to him, putting him to sleep. 

 

’Hey Cos, don’t you miss me?’

Notes:

uhmmm I don't think this is gonna be good. so I might delete it UHm. wow

blehhh smut will be included in the future. I'lll tag as updated

Chapter 2

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

How did Cosmo end up here? How did he end up at this party, why is he at this fucking party. Everything is a blur, he feels dizzy, the floor feels uneven, and he feels so fucking hot. How did he end up here.

How did he end up sobbing on the floor of Sprout’s room drinking from a red plastic cup as music blasts outside the shut door. It hasn’t changed. Not that much at least, maybe that’s what hurts more. The fact that he’s crying in Sprout’s room that hasn’t changed a bit from the last time he’s been over. The fact that Sprout still has those stupid posters pinned up on his wall from when they were kids— or the fact that Sprout still has their pictures on the wall.

 

Why is he here? Why is Sprout…. Holding him.

 

 

 


 

 

 

Cosmo tosses and turns in bed, cheeks wet with his bitter tears. His body trembles with its sadness, his breathing is shaky and his nose is runny. He wants to wake up, please let him wake up. Cosmo squeezes his eyes tight, feeling the cold drops make its way down his face. He doesn’t want to dream of this anymore. 

 

Cosmo tries to clench his fists, to get up, to open his eyes, but he can’t. It’s like his body is stuck on the dream, as if his body is compelled to it. He hates dreams like this. He wants to wake up….

 

Bzzzzzzrtttt, bzzzzzzrt

 

Cosmo’s eyes shoot open and he lets out a loud gasp, as if he was trying to get as much air in his lungs. Which he is. Another day, another dream about Sprout. It’s like the universe loves to screw him up with mentions of a boy he wishes to not remember. 

 

He groans as he sits up on the bed grabbing his phone and silencing the alarm. 

 

Tuesday, March 24th, xxxx.

 

Yesterday passed like a blur to him, he remembers Hanging out with Poppy and Boxten, he remembers eating out… and he remembers them showing him the Twitter post Sprout made about his birthday. Talking about how he’s throwing a party, and how there’s no entry list. He remembers reluctantly agreeing to go with Poppy and Boxten.

 

Well, that… explains the dream a bit. Cosmo mentally begs to whatever higher being there is that exists ‘please, PLEASE, please don’t fuck with me.’ To keep him in a corner, and to not let Sprout see him. 

 


 

 

“You know Seedly,” Vee started off slow, looking at Sprout in the corner of her eye, making sure that the nickname irritated him before continuing, “You never really had a girlfriend— or well anything in fact.” Sprout groans, here we go again. Vee going on her “You can’t pull” rant. He’s said time and time before that no one interests him, except… hah. No. He’s sick of the mention if he’s honest.

 

“I just don’t want to date anyone.” He mumbles the words, cheek pressed to the cafeteria’s table. He woke up at 3 yesterday- spent a couple of hours scrolling through twitter, trying to fall asleep again. He couldn’t. He kept ending up seeing twitter posts from the fucking rejects of the school. Mostly Boxten’s where he’s taking pictures with Cosmo. To be fair, he was scrolling through the school hashtag, so he was bound to end up getting posts from them. 

 

Sprout is snapped away from his thoughts by Dandy’s voice, that frilly high pitched voice. Sprout isn’t the type to point it out, of course not, he was best friends with Cosmo all those regrettable years. To be honest, Dandy’s voice reminds him of Cosmo. Girly, but it isn’t as soft, and caring as Cosmo’s he’ll admit that. He’ll admit to himself that’s what Cosmo was to him.

 

“You know, you could always just play around with one of the rejects feels, and then just break up with them when you know they feel for you…” Dandy snickers as he traces the rim with his finger; great. The group stays quiet for a second before laughing at the suggestion, Sprout groans at that reaction, mentally face palming as he hears his friends start to agree. Talking about how it’d be so amusing to see Sprout ‘being affectionate’ just to break their heart in the end, or the possibility of Sprout ending up falling in love with one of the losers— “hah right!” The thought verbalizes, his voice annoyed. 

 

He straightens up before standing abruptly, hands slamming on the table, as if to exaggerate his statement, “I would never fall in love with one of those freaks.” A few students from a nearby table turn their heads to look at the table, Sprout just shoots a sharp glare towards them, and they look away. Intimidation. Sprout’s glad to have the power. Especially for moments like these, he knows they won’t say a word. 

 

Astro laughs at his reaction, covering his mouth with his blanket— eyes squeezed shut forming a crescent moon-like shape… or at least that’s what his eyes remind him of. “I think it’s a good idea. I mean, just imagine their face or reaction when Sprout does do it. We could have Shelly record it, and post it around if there’s not enough traction.” Astro’s voice is nonchalant, monotone, his morality is tainted. But so is everyone’s at this table, isn’t it? 

“Think about it Sprout! We’d get 2 types of blackmail… the break up video, and ya know’ the goodies…” Shelly whispers the last half of her sentence, then she follows by a lewd gesture, fluttering her eyelashes at him and ‘innocently’ placing her hands in her lap, straightening her arms, in order to push her chest forward. Sprout rolls his eyes at the gesture, laughing with the group. He crosses his arms in front of his chest. I mean, he doesn’t want to fuck with someone’s feelings, but it would be amusing and his group is really pushing the idea on him.

 

“Fine. I’ll do it, just give me a bit to figure out what I’m going to do.” 

 

He sits back down, no longer tired, participating in the group’s chatter.

Notes:

oh my fucking God PMO why is the spacing so long???? shit is this bc of the font I used in Google docs... or am I tripping and that's the default.

also intersex interbinary Vee (presents ambiguously/female at school, she/her), demiboy Astro, and trans Dandy... <3 and he's disabled... (service dog is pebbles... it's because he has really violent chronic pain to the point of tears, AND it causes body pain to a point.. makes him dizzy n shit.) uhh and I think that's all the extra info. I'll make the designsss tmr and post em, probably tmr.

Chapter 3: The party favor

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The post was planned, of course it was, Sprout always had a knack for these things. So did most of the group. The point of the post is to get the rejects to go to the party. Including Cosmo, he guesses. Most of them will take the bait; Most of them are ravers, or party-goers. Most if not all want a semblance of  popularity, or to be near it— there’s no in between. That means all the rejects will be going. 

 

Sprout has also been discussing with the group his notes on the people, vise versa. He’s picky. He made a list of who he’d pick, who’s easy. He’s been scrolling on twitter for a while through the rejects’ pages, trying to make his pick. But his mind, fueled with its pettiness screams at him, “Cosmo, Cosmo, Cosmo!!!”, he doubts it would be a good idea. But, it’d be easier. He knows Cosmo; He knows how to get him to blush, he knows how to make him happy, how to soothe him most times, he knows what he likes, his home, and he knows so much more. 

 

Of course he did. They were friends for years. Best friends. Then that happened.

 

Cosmo, would be the easiest to play with, the easiest to use, the easiest to break. So that’s that. That’s his pick, his choice.

 

Sprout hums to himself as he glances at the time on his phone. It’s 11pm. The party is starting soon.




 

Poppy pulled Cosmo towards the sound of the bumping bass, towards the unlocked door. The one leading to something he’ll regret, why did he agree to do this? Right, he doesn’t want poppy to know.

Cosmo doesn’t follow along willingly, purposefully resisting and walking slower, “Cosmo! Come on man!!! Let’s go,” Poppy huffs as she tugs Cosmo’s arm earning a groan from him… 

 

Damnit! He was caught…

 

“You’re never this stubborn when we go to parties!” Poppy whines high pitched, like a child when their parent denies them a treat, like a child on the brink of throwing a tantrum. “Sorry, gahh I’m just nervous! It’s a party with…”, Sprout, “the popular kids, and we never go to these.” The excuse comes easily to him, earning sympathy from Poppy. They halt in  front of the door as she smiles softly at him… She’s directly in front of him— she brings her hands up to his face holding his hands with his cheeks as if she were his mother. 

 

“There’s nothing to worry  about, silly! It’s a PARTY!!!!” Poppy giggles, smiling sweetly at Cosmo as she lets go of his face grabbing his hands into hers. A simple gesture of reassurance as she pulls him towards the door, using her back to open it— guess it wasn’t properly closed. Poppy lets go of his hands, taking a look at the mansion’s interior.  Cosmo’s focus darts back and forth, taking in the familiar barely changed environment. 

 

He doesn’t want to be here,  the environment has been stuck in his head, so different yet so alike. Cari, Sprout’s mother, used to have pictures of the two on the walls; they've known each other for so long. Cosmo is glad they’re not hung on the wall anymore. It’d be horrible for anyone to know about them…

Cosmo’s gaze lands on Poppy, who is walking towards the skaters— great…. Abandonment… It’s fine, he knows she just likes to have fun. Though he doesn’t know why she likes hanging out with Yatta, Looey, and Blot… It’s a mystery to him.

Cosmo shrugs off the thought, making his way to the kitchen, surely that’s where the ‘punch’ is. He needs to be careful, as to not run into Sprout. 

 


 

The taste is off, obviously spiked, but that’s what he wants. To ease up. Only a sip. That’s it. He doesn’t like drinking, never did. He doesn’t understand those who do— he doesn’t favor those who do. So, he’ll only take a sip. For bravery.

 

Cosmo puts his half empty cup down. One sip his ass. Three will suffice. Cosmo exhales  the sensation catching up to him, it’s whatever. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a small glimpse of that figure he misses so. The panic within him rises, dulled by the strong of the drink.

 

He turns around quickly, so Sprout doesn’t recognize his face, pulling up his hood to hide the color of his hair— god he wishes he wasn’t “blessed” with this uniqueness. He hopes Sprout doesn’t remember shit about him. That he forgot everything.

 

Cosmo walks briskly past Sprout, head down turning the corner as quickly as possible. He feels the breeze of Sprout’s eyes on him. The sharp narrow eyes  landing on his back before his attention is taken by a girl's voice.

 

Cosmo lets out a deep breath, nerves calming down, cheeks rising in color—a deep blush. Jeez. That was close, and dumb. He should ditch, but… Poppy. Cosmo bites his lip as his back hits the wall, closing his eyes. He shouldn’t, and wouldn’t do that to her.

 

Cosmo decides it’s best to suck it up, and makes himself get off the wall. He glances over at the elegant stairs, before taking a deep breath and walking upstairs. This is for the best.

 

He holds onto the raining of the stairs, focusing on his direction, and not how high he has to go. Stabilizing his steps to the best of his ability; Cosmo’s body takes over, walking automatically.

 

Cosmo knows it’s a bad idea, his instinct in this home must be frayed. He recognizes this path so much. He stops at the door. 

 

Ah.

 

What a cruel joke his instincts are. What a cruel joke his legs decided to play on him.

 

Cosmo feels his heart beat quicken. Hesitating. He knows the room that’s beyond this door as he does for many of the doors in this home. The layout remains in the back of his head, and this room— in specifics, is in the front of his mind. His dreams, his nightmares to be more specific are always about this. Why is he compelled to go in then?

 

Cosmo doesn’t answer that question himself. His hand reaches out, grabbing the knob— Cosmo hisses at the contact. As if the knob burned him. He still turns it, stepping inside, closing the door behind him.

It’s different.

 

Hah.

It’s changed. The room has changed.

 

Cosmo takes a step forward.

 

Then he takes three towards the bed.

 

Getting on his knees in front of it, laying his head on the soft cushion… Sprout still has a picture of them on top of his wardrobe. Still has the same TV. Same posters. Same— that’s it. That’s everything that stayed the same.

 

Cosmo feels the lump in his throat grow, tears welling in his eyes— unshed. 

 

Grief. All over again. Starting from the beginning. This can’t be real. This is all just a sick nightmare Cosmo has, over and over again. One day he’ll wake up and Sprout will be there, waiting in a chair, as the heart monitor beats— Please. Please be a nightmare. 

 

Cosmo wipes his left eye with his hand, sniffling. 

 

He wishes he wasn’t sober at this moment, so he can laugh at himself. It’s silly.

 

 

Cosmo whimpers, before getting off his knees… eyes tracing the room. Every little nightmare took place here, or most of them. All in relation to Sprout. But the room looked different, of course it did. The room has changed— Cosmo jumps as the door opens abruptly slamming shut.

He turns his head towards the noise startled. Eyes puffy with tears. What. He pales as the tension in the room grows, both him and the individuals breath loud, as if they both ran a marathon. 

 

Sprout probably did. Trying to invade those chics who were bothering him.

 

It’s quiet for a minute, the tension brewing, and then Sprout brings the red plastic cup that he’s been holding to his lips, taking a sip before placing it on his drawer. His eyes scanning Cosmo’s figure, as if he’s remembering everything about him. 

 

“I’ve missed you.”

 

The words don’t leave Cosmo’s mouth, no, they left Sprout’s. All of the sudden the anger is back. The anger of Sprout leaving him. He leaves him, and he comes back with a ‘I miss you’. Cosmo adverts his eyes, blinking rapidly as his hand brings itself to his arm. Holding it to soothe himself. He doesn’t respond to Sprout. 

 

He backs up bumping Sprout’s bedside table; that doesn’t stop him from trying to back himself up more. Pushing the items that are on the desk back. Sprout’s taking slow steps towards him. Until he’s standing in front of Cosmo.

 

Leave him alone. Cosmo thinks. I don’t want to talk to you. Cosmo won’t give into Sprout. 

 

“Please,” A plea leaves Sprout’s voice as he pouts, just like they were kids trying to get what he wants. Does he think Cosmo is the same little boy? “I need you. Cosmo.” Cosmo brings his hand to Sprout’s chest when he leans over, maintaining distance between them. He tries to ignore how different Sprout feels. How he’s grown. How Sprout brings his hand to his and closes around it. 

 

An intimate sign of affection.

 

Cosmo turns his head, looking at the display. He almost wants to break down, let his walls crumble. To allow Sprout to win.  But he stays firm, snarling as he looks up at Sprout. 

 

“Why are you doing this?” Cosmo barks the words out with all the anger he can muster in them. Sprout looks stunned for a moment, as if he didn’t expect Cosmo to talk back— “You’re different from what I remember.” … Cosmo doesn’t say anything scoffing.

“What? Did you think I would be the same? That I’d have the same pretty little high pitched voice? Answer my question. Why are you doing this? Why care now? You left me. Why come back? I hate you.” Sprout frowns at Cosmo’s rant, taking Cosmo’s hand off his chest as he presses closer. His hand holding Cosmo’s in place. 

 

“No, you don’t. Cos, I want you back. I’ve always cared. Please, I love you.”  Sprout’s words sound so sincere, it makes Cosmo break… tears returning to the well of his eyes. Why now? Why come back. Cosmo sniffles… leaning forward to bury his face in Sprout’s shoulder. 

 

“I missed you too.” Cosmo sobs the words out, he feels all warm inside. Safe again as Sprout  hugs him tightly… He missed Sprout so much. “I love you too…” The small whisper leaves Cosmo’s lips as he removes himself from Sprout’s embrace.

 

“But I-” Cosmo is cut off by Sprout’s lips on his; the taste of spiked juice tastes so nice for once. It’s only a mere second before Sprout pulls away, licking his bottom lip as in to savor the lingering effects.

 

“...This is the only party favor I’m giving out, Cos. I still have your number. I think of you a lot.” Sprout whispers it as if it was a secret… Cosmo feels like he’s seeing stars. He doesn’t say anything when Sprout’s hand stops holding his hand to make its way on his thigh.

 

“I think about you a lot too. I miss being your friend.” 


“I want to be more.”

“... Okay, but I don’t forgive you. If you leave again, I won’t be the one chasing you.”

“Okay.”

Notes:

oh my God this chronic leg pain PMOOOO.

I already have Shrimpo's official design, Boxten's beta... and that's it...

________________

IOP finna make me tweak and KMS FUCK YOUUUU anyways meow...

Made another TWT that will remain private due to @ClumsyProship being harassed off it, LOL!

https://x.com/KlutzyProship

Idk message something that'll make me accept you LOL!

Notes:

uhmmm I don't think this is gonna be good. so I might delete it UHm. wow

blehhh smut will be included in the future. I'lll tag as updated