Don’t Call Me Baby

Macken had a horrible habit of calling Locke ‘baby.’

It was infuriating at the best of times, and incredibly patronising at the worst. And no matter what Locke said, he wouldn’t stop with the incessant pet name.

It had somewhat come to a head when, during one of these moments, Locke had absentmindedly gone to punch Macken in his anger. Macken, obviously, had dodged out of the way, leaving Locke to punch the wall.

That didn’t stop the pet name, so Locke felt like nothing would. Still, every time it was said he’d spit out a simple ‘don’t call me that.’

Today, Locke had grabbed a cigarette on his way out of the apartment, only to be tailed by Macken.

“Locke, can I come with you? I need some fresh air.”

“Air won’t be fresh if ‘m there,” Locke argued vaguely, staring at Macken.

Macken stared back, doing his best attempt at puppy eyes, “Please?”

Locke tried not to falter, but groaned and threw up his arms, “Fine! Wha’ever!”

Macken hugged Locke, “Thank you, baby!”

Locke froze slightly, “Wha’ was tha’?”

Macken didn’t let go, but did lean back so the two could see each other face to face, “I said, thank you, baby.”

Locke grit his teeth, and without thinking shoved Macken off of him harshly, “Y’ can’t call me tha’!”

Despite stumbling slightly at the push, Macken was smiling, but before Locke could interject, he put his hands up to surrender, which was something he did when he was about to change the subject.

“When do you next work, Locket?”

“Why d’you care?” Locke huffed, finally opening the door to their apartment, “Y’haven’ before.”

“Oh, I was simply wondering!” Macken followed Locke out, “Especially with those ribs, your schedule has been out of wack.”

Locke thought about what was said to him, and then shrugged, “‘Ve got two days off, then work for six.”

“Ouch!” Macken put his arms behind his head as he walked, “They’ve got you under lock and key, huh?”

Locke tried, and failed, to stifle a snort, “Nice pun, knob.”

Macken laughed too, and then went oddly silent.

Macken wasn’t one to do silences, he was obnoxiously loud and needed constant attention, and Locke squinted his eyes somewhat suspiciously. Macken annoys him, shrugs it off, asks a genuine question, and makes a stupid joke. Did he want something?

Locke didn’t ponder the thought much further as he pushed open the doors to the outside, “What d’you do for work, anyways? Ya’ pay rent, like, but youse don’t go out anywhere.”

“Oh, I don’t do anything!” Macken hummed, “My parents send me money every week, just to make sure I’m not dead.”

Locke leant against a wall and lit up his cigarette, “Oh?”

“You’re not the only one from far off!”

“I know tha’ much, mush,” Locke spat slightly, quickly sighing, “I didn’ think y’parents cared, last I ‘eard of ‘em.”

Macken sucked air through his teeth, “It’s sort of difficult, trust me, I couldn’t explain it here.”

“I feel ya.”

Another silence settled, and Locke was getting more and more suspicious, so he took a long puff of his cigarette before pushing off of the wall and walking over to Macken, “Do y’need summat, Mack?”

“Hm?”

“Y’hoverin’ ‘round me like flies to a bin in summer,” Locke took another breath of his cigarette, careful to blow it away from him, “Y’can be a lot more friendly than some, ‘specially Channel, but it seems like y’wan’ summat.”

Macken hummed, tapping his finger to his mouth, “Not really, Ink’s just not given me anything to go off of today.”

“Y’sure? Even on days where Ink’s working you’re never this bad.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Y’bein’ clingy, ‘m not ya’ boyfriend or summat.”

Macken clearly bit his tongue for a certain response, deciding to keep to the issue at hand, “You already knew I could be clingy.”

“Y’never really t’me.”

Macken shrugged, “Well, I don’t want anything.”

Locke huffed, accepting the answer and leaning back on the wall. There was a few more minutes of silence, where Macken was clearly thinking something through in his head, a sight which Locke didn’t enjoy the sight of. He clearly did want something.

“Actually,” Macken started, being met with a sigh, “Can I ask a question?”

“Jus’ did.”

“So,” Macken ignored Locke, “Earlier, when I called you you-know-what, you said something strange.”

“In wha’ way?”

“Usually when I say it, you just say ‘don’t call me that!’ in that angry tone — or go to punch me — but this time you said ‘you can’t call me that.’”

“Oh no, two words changed —“

“That implies that someone else could call you that!” Macken pointed a faux accusing finger at Locke, like some sort of ace attorney, “So, my question is, who? Only the truth, I’m a master detective.”

Locke blinked a few times, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me!” Macken moved his finger closer, “You’re an English nerd or something! If someone says ‘you can’t call me that.’ what does it mean?”

Locke turned it over in his head, “Depends how they meant it, but I s’pose it does sound like I’m implyin’ that someone else could.”

Macken laughed, “See!”

Locke awkwardly rolled his rapidly decreasing cigarette between his fingers, “If it really matters t’ya so much, me mum can.”

“You’re lying!”

“And why would I do tha’?”

“See! You’re avoiding it!”

Locke felt his face heat up, of which he assumed was in a moment of anger, “Leave me ‘lone, y’ignoramus!”

Macken laughed more, “Look at you, not only are you blushing, you’re pulling out your big words! You’re a liar Locke!”

Locke slapped Macken’s finger out of his personal space, a lot lighter than he’d wanted to, “Y’ain’ some detective, Mack, you’re just a nosey li’l cunt!”

Macken stopped laughing, but did smile, “You know, I wouldn’t tell a soul if you did tell me.”

“I ain’ got nothin’ t’say, ‘cos it’s no one.” Locke flicked his hardly smoked cigarette into a drain, walking away from Macken, “Drop it now, and we can spend ‘rest of day together, deal?”

Macken beamed, “Deal!”

Locke sighed in relief, feeling the heat in his face slowly go down as Macken spewed information at Locke about his current new fixation. Locke used this time to somewhat listen, but to also ponder what Macken had interrogated him about. He hadn’t even remembered saying something different, and as he pushed open the apartment door, he couldn’t answer Macken’s question if he tried.