Dead Plate Oneshots Puppy Love

Rody sat on his front porch, tapping his fingers against the wooden rail as he watched for Vincent’s family car. The summer sun was setting, casting an orange glow over the quiet street, and he could already picture Vincent’s pout as he hopped out of the backseat, clutching his backpack and eagerly dashing toward him. Vincent was… persistent. Rody found it sweet, in that clueless kid kind of way.

Sure enough, there came the familiar red sedan rolling up the drive. The moment it stopped, Vincent scrambled out, not bothering to wave goodbye to his parents, who barely had time to wave back before they drove off. Rody chuckled, pushing himself up to meet him halfway down the path.

“Rody!” Vincent beamed, eyes shining with uncontainable excitement. He had the same look every time, like Rody was the coolest guy on the planet.

“Hey, Vince. You got your homework?” Rody ruffled the boy’s hair, only for Vincent to swat his hand away with an indignant scowl.

“Yes! But you don’t need to help me. I’m already finished with it,” Vincent declared, adjusting his backpack and falling into step beside Rody as they went inside.

“Of course you are,” Rody teased. Vincent always wanted to impress him. It was cute how serious he could get about every little thing, and he tried his best to make Rody proud. But Vincent also had his quirks. He’d been clinging to this habit of proposing to Rody every now and then, and no matter how Rody brushed it off, Vincent never gave up on his “promise.” They’d laugh about it, or rather, Rody would laugh, and Vincent would stomp his foot and swear he meant it.

After some pizza and a couple of Vincent’s favorite movies, the boy turned to him, already nodding off. Just before he drifted to sleep, he whispered, “One day, you’ll marry me, right, Rody? You promised.”

Rody snickered, wrapping a blanket over the kid. “Of course, Vince. One day.”

And then Vincent turned eleven, then twelve, and still, the questions came. Every time Rody had a girlfriend—and especially after he started dating Manon—Vincent got sulky, asking Rody to break up with her or making sarcastic remarks whenever she was around. Rody found it amusing, though, and Manon laughed it off, calling it harmless puppy love.

But the joke was losing its charm by the time Vincent hit fourteen. When Rody and Manon got engaged, he thought Vincent might finally give it up, but Vincent simply stewed in quiet disapproval. He hardly spoke to Manon anymore and made excuses to leave whenever she visited. He still asked Rody about that promise, but now there was something unsettling in his eyes when he did, something that left Rody chuckling awkwardly, unsure how to tell him it was time to let go of those childhood fantasies.

When Vincent was finally too old for babysitting, Rody thought the distance might help him move on. But even at fifteen, Vincent found excuses to come by. Sometimes he’d show up after school, insisting he needed help with some project or that his parents had “suggested” he keep Rody company. Rody started to worry Vincent was hanging on too hard, neglecting other friends or missing out on normal teenage experiences. But every time he tried to hint that Vincent should spend more time with kids his age, the boy’s jaw set, and his eyes darkened.

“It’s fine, Rody. I’d rather be here,” he’d insist. And eventually, Rody gave up trying to convince him otherwise.

When Vincent left for college, Rody thought things might finally change. A new city, new people, a chance for him to find someone his age and let go of that strange attachment he’d clung to for so long. Rody felt relieved; maybe this time apart would allow Vincent to see things clearly.

But after every break, Vincent was back at his doorstep. And every visit left Rody a little more unsettled. Vincent wasn’t a kid anymore, but he still had that same intense look when he talked to Rody. His habit of casually dropping comments about the “promise” hadn’t stopped, either.

“Vince, you’re grown up now. You know we were just joking back then,” Rody tried once, but Vincent’s face fell, eyes turning dark.

“I never thought it was a joke.”

Rody didn’t know what to say to that, so he just laughed awkwardly and hoped Vincent would see reason on his own. But Vincent only grew more determined.

And then, finally, Rody married Manon. Vincent had been distant in the months leading up to the wedding, showing up less often. At the wedding, he was barely recognizable—quiet, withdrawn, watching Rody and Manon with a hollow look that made Rody’s stomach twist with guilt he couldn’t place. He noticed Vincent leaving early and wondered if he’d ever come around again.

But Vincent did come back. Only now, he was famous, a celebrated chef whose face was on magazine covers and whose name was whispered with admiration in culinary circles. Rody couldn’t quite believe the kid he used to babysit had become this quiet, intense man who moved with an almost intimidating grace. And yet, every time they met, Rody felt that old familiarity—except now, there was something different in Vincent’s gaze. Something cold. Something that sent a chill down Rody’s spine.

In interviews, Vincent barely mentioned his accomplishments. Instead, he talked about his “babysitter,” describing Rody with a reverence that bordered on unsettling. When Rody saw the interviews, he felt uneasy, wondering why Vincent would speak about him so publicly. Manon raised an eyebrow each time they saw one, muttering that it was becoming “a bit much.”

But then, just when Rody thought he’d adjusted to this strange reality, he and Manon divorced. Vincent heard about it before Rody even had the chance to reach out, and almost immediately, he started showing up again, this time with a determination that took Rody aback. Vincent’s gaze was more intense than ever, his compliments unsettlingly forward.

“I could take care of you now, you know,” Vincent said one night, leaning closer than Rody was comfortable with. “After all… we had a promise.”

“Vince, you were a kid. You know that wasn’t real, right?”

Vincent’s smile faded, a hurt look crossing his face, but it didn’t stop him. He was relentless, visiting more and more frequently, bringing food, insisting on taking care of him. Rody tried to set boundaries, but Vincent ignored every hint.

One evening, Vincent was over for dinner, and after a few glasses of wine, he cornered Rody in the kitchen.

“Why won’t you let me take care of you?” His voice was quiet, almost pleading. “I’d be better for you than she ever was.”

Rody took a step back, raising a hand to keep the distance between them. “Vincent, I don’t need… I don’t want that kind of relationship with you. I’m sorry.”

For the first time, Rody saw Vincent’s face crumble. His eyes filled with a raw, unmasked hurt, and Rody realized with a pang of horror that Vincent truly hadn’t moved on, that he had clung to this promise for years, letting it fester into something neither of them could understand.

“I don’t understand,” Vincent murmured, his voice trembling. “You said… You said you’d marry me. Why can’t you love me?”

“It was just a promise between a kid and babysitter. I didn’t… I didn’t think you’d take it this seriously.”

Vincent’s gaze hardened, his hand clenching at his side as he whispered, “You’re everything to me, Rody. Everything. And now, you’re telling me you won’t even try to keep your promise?”

Rody swallowed, guilt and pity warring in his heart. “Vincent… you have to let this go. I care about you, but not like that. You need to find someone who can give you the love you deserve.”

But Vincent only shook his head, his face a mix of heartbreak and confusion. He took a step back, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re wrong. You’re the only one I’ll ever want.”

Vincent stood there for a long moment, his gaze fixed on Rody with a look that was almost unreadable. The air between them was thick with something that made Rody’s chest tighten. Vincent turned slowly, walking toward the door without another word. The sound of his footsteps echoed in the quiet house, each step heavier than the last.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Rody exhaled, his body tense. But it wasn’t the relief he expected. Instead, there was a knot in his stomach, an unease that lingered long after Vincent’s departure. It wasn’t just the weight of the conversation that unsettled him. It was the way Vincent had looked at him before leaving, like there was no turning back.

Rody rubbed his temples, trying to shake the thoughts that were starting to take root in his mind. *What had just happened?*

Vincent had always been intense, but this felt different—darker, somehow. Rody had known that Vincent’s feelings had always been strong, but this? This was something else entirely. And as he stood in the silence of his home, the unsettling realization hit him hard: he wasn’t sure how to deal with Vincent anymore. The boy he had once known, the one with the sweet, puppyish crush, was slipping away into something far more complicated and dangerous.

Rody felt a creeping fear settle in his chest, a gnawing worry that he had no idea how to fix this, or if it was even possible to fix at all.