yo somewhat soft jcracc?????
im totally not simping for raccooneggs and jcthecaster..... theyre just rlly fuckign pretty guys but im not gay im not gay im not gay im not gay im not gay im no-
idk uhh... cw for vague mentions of insomnia and trollers ig AND ALSO I FORGOT UHHH THE R SLUR WAS USED HERE TOO
title from up all night - owl city
prompt; racc has a bad day and jc's there to help.
final word count; 2k smile
━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━
the beeping of his alarm clock wakes ezra up, and before looking at the time, he can already tell it's way too fucking early to be awake – the sky is still dark and birds aren't chirping, so it's pretty damn plain to see. his stupid fucking alarm clock is broken, the alarm ringing either too early or too late, and it's annoying as shit but he doesn't feel like getting another one. it continues beeping and he groans, slapping a hand over eyes with a huff as he blindly reaches around his bedside table and smacks it onto the floor, hearing the shatter of the screen as it breaks. he huffs, not wanting to get up and fix it just yet, and tries to go back to sleep.
he doesn't. time ticks on, and he's still awake, laying on his bed with his hand over his eyes, trying to make his breathing even out, but it comes out shaky and either too much at a time or too little, and he doesn't know how long he lays there until he just decides to get up. ezra stretches with a grunt, pushes himself up and off his bed, and heads to his kitchen to grab something to eat. there's an almost-empty box of cereal on his counter and he shrugs, grabbing the box and shuffling back to his room. it's still sort of dark outside – the sun is just beginning to peek over the horizon – but there's nothing like polishing off a box of cereal and recording some cs:go. he sits at his monitors and waits for them to boot up, quickly typing in his password and opening discord.
craccoon
yo jc
u wanna play cs rn?
ill b recording n shit
jcthecaster
uh, sure?
right now?
shouldn't you still be asleep? you haven't slept much this last week.
craccoon
yes im aware
n yeah rn
couldnt go back to sleep
might as well record a vid to put out n shit yk??
jcthecaster
mm, makes sense.
you're probably procrastinating editing the rust video, so i might as well indulge you.
should i record as well?
i'm starting up my monitors.
craccoon
uhh if u wanna ig
go ahead
idm
im not procrastinating btw ill do it lter
jcthecaster
if you say so.
you want it to be just us and some npcs or should we invite others?
craccoon
tbh not feelin like havin their loudasses in here rn
might as well just have us n the npcs
bots r prbbly better thn they r tbh
jcthecaster
alright.
you're right about that, though.
you ever wanna leave, tell me.
craccoon
dont baby me jc
im a big boy n shit
im takin care of myself
dw abt me
jcthecaster
you're right, sorry.
ezra hums quietly to himself, brushing his hair out of his face. his hand comes back greasy and he winces – when's the last time he washed his hair? whatever, he can do it when he showers later. he's snapped out of his thoughts by the familiar hum of the discord call notification, and he accepts immediately, holding his hair back so he can slide on his headphones.
"good morning, racc," jc says cheerfully, yet there's an underlying hint of tiredness, and all of a sudden, ezra feels sort of guilty for asking him. too late for that now, though. "it's been a while since we've played cs together, i hope i'm still good at the game." he snorts, and jc makes some sort of weird whining noise.
"please. you've never been good at this fucking game, jc, don't lie to yourself," he chuckles, jc laughing as well as taps away at his keyboard for a moment, sending ezra the game request, and he accepts immediately. they chill in the lobby until ezra has all of his recording software up and running, and he's ready to start. the game starts off relatively chill, what with their usual offensive jokes and commentary, ezra's crunching audible and jc sometimes peaking the mic when he yells because he's been killed in-game, all in all, recording's going fine.
until the inevitable happens – the trollers come in and start talking about shit that'll get ezra demonetised so much he gets kicked off of youtube. the brunet huffs, turning on his in-game mic and waiting until they stop talking so he can start. "hey, fuckhead," he begins, hearing one of them gasp – they probably recognized him, but fuck it, "y'all shouldn't be talking about that shit, it's fucking disgusting. it's like your whole family has a thing for breaking shit – your parents broke the fucking trojan condom and now you're fucking breaking the rules of what not to talk about! congratulations, assholes, you've won the prize for being a major dickhead!" jc's gone quiet, so have the trolls, but he's not finished. "i don't know what kind of drugs your parents were on when they had you, because you came out so fuckin' retarded. surprised you're not in fucking school, you both sound like nine-year olds."
ezra can hear the tapping of keyboards, and he's vaguely wondering what they're doing. the answer comes in the form of the game automatically closing and a pop-up on his screen: "you have been kicked for harassment."
he pounds on his keyboard after he turns off his recording software, minorly regretting it after he finishes, panting ever so slightly – his palms were bruised from hitting his desk the day prior, and he's just honestly not in the mood to deal with it. so they won't kick the others, who were literally making jokes that went too fucking far, but they'll kick him for calling them retarded and saying their parents should have worn condoms.
nice double standards, dickheads.
"ez, you alright?" jc asks once he's calmed down a little, rubbing his hand. he huffs into the mic and jc nods, shuffling around. it sounds like he's putting something on, he's probably going to go out or something, but ezra couldn't care less. jc's his own person, ezra doesn't need to know everything, even if he might want to.
"i'm absolutely splendid. i'll just go work on another video i need to edit, see ya." he says bluntly, then leaves the call before jc can say anything, opening up his files and deleting the most recent video file. he opens his editing software and sighs, dragging the unedited video into the software and dropping it, letting it process before he begins to edit. he's off on another tab, trying to download music to use in his video when his keyboard gives out and his screen freezes, and he groans, balled hands resting on his thighs. if his software actually fucked his computer, he's going to scream.
he waits a few moments, and then the blue screen of death appears.
fucking great.
he groans and turns off his monitors, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. he's genuinely been so frustrated these past few days, what with not getting enough sleep and then his shit breaking. granted, it's because he pounds on the shit, but it's better than beating in the side of his head whenever he gets mad like he used to do. he sniffles, digging the heel of his palms into his eyes, trying to keep himself from crying, but it doesn't fucking work, and the tears fall. he holds back a choked sob, wiping his nose and burying his face in his hands, biting his lip to keep more embarrassing noises in.
ezra isn't often a crier, but when he does, he doesn't stop, not for a while.
his head hurts, his eyes hurt, everything hurts. he's tired, he just wants to sleep, he just wants things to go the way he wants them to for once in his goddamn life. he coughs, covering his mouth, wiping the rest of the tears from his face. he pushes himself out of his chair and flops down onto his bed, willing his tiredness to take over and put him to sleep, but unfortunately for him, it doesn't.
so he lays there, staring up at his ceiling for god knows how long, practically dissociating. he doesn't hear the knocks on his door, he doesn't hear the door creaking open, nor does he notice jc standing in the entrance of his door, looking completely awkward and out of place. it's a few moments of awkward silence before jc clears his throat and ezra jumps at the sudden loud noise, a soft sound escaping his mouth, rubbing his eyes and squinting at jc.
"the fuck're you doing here?" he croaks, voice rough and grainy from misuse and sobbing. jc shrugs and moves closer, and ezra can see he's got a brown mcdonalds bag in hand. he groans, pushing himself into a sitting position, rolling his shoulders momentarily. "here," ezra murmurs, scooting over on the bed, letting jc sit down next to him, "comfortable?"
"mm, very. i tried dming you but you didn't answer, i thought something happened 'nd i got worried. you doin' alright, ez?" ezra shrugs and moves closer to jc, leaning against him. "you tired? i brought you some food if you wanted to eat. if not, i'll put it in the microwave or something so you can eat it later." jc tells him, and ezra hums quietly.
"my monitor crashed, keyboard stopped working, phone's off. sorta tired, but 'm more hungry." he answers, jc makes an understanding noise and lets ezra peek into the bag. "you fucking got chicken nuggets? you get fries too?" jc nods and ezra grins, dipping his hands into the bag and grabbing a few fries, shoving them in his mouth. "thank you," he mumbles through chewing, and jc smiles, brushing ezra's hair from his face.
"it's no problem, you need it. i'm happy to help you any way i can." ezra huffs and knocks his forehead into jc's shoulder, slightly embarrassed. jc chuckles softly and wraps his arm around ezra's shoulder, pulling him closer, and the shorter huffs, shoving more fries into his mouth before he can say or do something embarrassing. he'd rather die than admit it, but jc is comfortable and makes him feel safe, and he subconsciously presses closer, nuzzling further under jc's arm. for the past few weeks, ezra's been thinking about jc – his stupidly attractive deep voice, how warm he is, how he seems to always care (especially about ezra), how he's willing to be there if someone needs him, how he's just generally such a good person.
he presses himself closer to jc, wiggling deeper into his grasp, and jc looks down, gaze confused. "what're you doing, racc?" ezra freezes, not really knowing what to say. "you uncomfortable? here, lemme just-" jc sits up and moves closer, almost but not quite pulling ezra onto his lap, carding a hand through the other's hair gently, and ezra sighs, shifting closer to jc with a pleased hum. "you still uncomfortable? what's up, dude?"
"'m hiding," ezra murmurs tiredly, snuggling into jc's side, and the taller chuckles quietly, albeit still confused.
"what do you mean, you're hiding? d'you mean hugging?" ezra stops, takes his face out of its spot in jc's neck, glares at him. jc looks down and kisses his forehead.
"no, fuckhead, i meant hiding." he's slightly embarrassed to admit it, burying his face back in jc's neck, voice muffled as he explains. "your arms are my safe space, idiot. you make me feel safe. i'm hiding in my safe space." jc hums in understanding, turning to gently rest his head against ezra's, and then it's silent for a few moments. the silence is somewhat comforting, at least to ezra. he's just about to drift off to sleep when he hears jc's mouth open, about to say something, and he shuts that down. "shut up and put your arms around me, asshole." jc shrugs and complies, chuckling softly, wrapping his arms around ezra.
ezra's in his safe space, and that (and jc) is all he cares about.