Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Oh my god, it’s not going to be hypothermia. This is it, this is what kills me, “ Cyrus flops back onto the metal bleachers, letting his eyes shut, the dribbles and ceaseless bickering lulling him into a strange state of serenity. He can feel his fingertips beginning to numb as the cold fails to diminish, and observing the ground, he finds faint traces of snow. Maybe, he could be able hear his thoughts and take joy in the frosty snowflakes if they would just stop hassLING EACH OTHER.

“Foul! Are you seeing this, Marty?” As expected, Cyrus doesn’t hear a single sound from Marty. Even Buffy’s renowned rival knows to abstain from heated disputes between the two star athletes. “I’m calling a foul!”

“And I’m calling bullshit. You’re just pissed I’m up six, Driscoll. That was a flop, and you know it.”

“Do I have to remind you that you’ve only just gained a lead, or should I do a play-by-play of every shot I’ve made so far?”

“Still doesn’t change the fact that that was, in fact, a flop. Ref! Ref!” And Cyrus jolts, remembering that oh yeah he’s supposed to be the referee.

“W-What, what’s going on?” He takes in his surroundings and instantly beams at the scarves, beanies, and mittens adorned by his favorite people. Cyrus recalls earlier that day when they all met up, finding them in nothing but flimsy jackets that do absolutely nothing to protect from the unyielding cold. He chided them, all the while searching through his family’s closet, tossing out various items they could wear. Predictably, TJ put up a good fight, claiming that the cold never bothered him anyway. In the end, he grudgingly allowed Cyrus to wrap a burly, pale blue scarf around him.

Now, the apparel has loosened dramatically from TJ’s rapid, zealous movements. The boy bundled underneath all that fabric peers up at him, an expectant expression on his face. Cyrus throws him a sorry, I wasn’t paying attention again look, and TJ laughs.

“Are you two conspiring against me?” Buffy darts her eyes between the two, “TJ, I expected this from you, but Cyrus…“ She throws her hands up dramatically. “I expected more. He’s officially corrupted you.” TJ snorts so loud it gets the lot of them into a fit of hysterics.

Andi’s mouth drops, restraining from convulsing into laughter. “TJ!” He merely shrugs, lips curled into a smirk.

“Buffy said it, not me.”

Cyrus watches this exchange with amusement and a little confusion. “You all know I’m right here, right?”

“Of course, Underdog. No one can ever forget a cute face like yours.” Cyrus gleams, leaning backwards until he’s resting against the bleacher behind him.

Buffy groans, “Come on, lover boy. How about we do a jump ball? Marty versus Jonah.” TJ nods decisively.

“Sure.”

As they settle into their respective positions - Buffy on one side of the court; TJ and Andi on the other; Marty and Jonah in the center, - Cyrus fixates on one specific person who’s been on his mind lately. When it wanders and daydreams about espresso brown hair and eyes resembling a vivid view of breathtaking landscapes, of morning dew drops placed on leaves, his insides feel fizzy. Of course, Cyrus isn’t oblivious. He knows he wants his friend as more than a friend. He also acknowledges that he can’t do anything about it. Not only does he seem like his straightest friend (even Marty, at times, is somewhat of a question mark), he probably doesn’t like him back. Having admitted that fact a long, long time ago, Cyrus has been able to keep his little crush tucked and hidden safely away.

“Cy-guy! Mind throwing it up for us?” Jonah holds the basketball out to him, and Cyrus is on his feet, nodding eagerly.

“Of course, Jonah.” The shorter boy smiles broadly at him, giving Cyrus a glimpse of his deep dimples. Cyrus tentatively takes the ball and flashes Jonah a smile before stepping back and moving in between where Marty and Jonah stand.

“You got this, Beck!” Cyrus hears as he tosses the ball up in the air. Marty swats at it, and Buffy gets the ball, securing the handle. That’s pretty much all the basketball terms Cyrus knows.

He ambles off the court, sitting back down in his previous position. Heart beating faster and head racing, he figures he would watch how the rest of the game pans out. Cyrus watches Buffy dribble up to TJ, whose hands are extended at his sides, and passes it to Marty on her right. Marty effortlessly catches the ball, jogging back over to the free-throw line. In an instant, he bounce passes it near the hoop and - when did Buffy get over there? Her shot wiggles through the net, and the ball plummets to the ground.

“Yes!” Buffy exclaims, high fiving Marty on the way to her opponents’ side of the court.

Andi cheers, “Great job, Buffy!”

TJ catches Andi’s in-bounds pass to him and dribbles up the court, “Andi! No affiliating with the enemy.”

She rolls her eyes, biting back a smile.

TJ dribbles in place, Buffy still on him. “Game point, Slayer. You ready for this loss?”

Buffy narrows her eyes. “Oh, trust me, this isn’t over yet, Kippen.”

The boy smirks, takes a step back, and shoots the ball. In those few seconds, Cyrus won’t deny that it felt like everything was moving in slow motion. He’s on the edge of his seat, anticipating the result. The ball flies in a perfect arc and hits the backboard.

It rattles in.

Jonah hoots, throwing his head back and laughing hysterically. Andi throws a fist up in victory, letting a giddy smile capture her entire face.

Cyrus expects TJ to make some conceited remark, Buffy to clap back, and for them to ultimately shake hands and congratulate each other. What he doesn’t expect is for TJ to spin around to face him, arms wide open.

“Celebratory hug?” TJ proposes, and Cyrus grins up at him. He shoots up from his seat, bounding across the court, and latching onto the taller boy. Naturally, TJ catches him, already familiar with Cyrus’ koala hugs. After twirling him around, plagued by a pleasant sense of victory, TJ walks over to the bleachers, Cyrus still in his embrace. TJ plops him down, scurrying to the bleacher behind the smaller boy, and all but drapes himself over Cyrus' back. And maybe it's out of instinct, maybe it's out of familiarity, maybe it's because it's so cold, but Cyrus leans back into TJ's chest.

Buffy raises a brow at the display of affection by the two boys though not truly stirred. As years passed, she's come to the conclusion that they're both very affectionate people. An unconventional match that ended up being one of the best things to happen to his best friend, and even she has to admit that they’ve left positive impacts on each other. She shakes her thoughts, clapping her hands together. “So, I guess baby taters and milkshakes on us, huh?”

“I’ll chip in! I don’t want you two to have to handle it on your own.” Jonah pipes up, already fishing out his wallet from the front pocket of his jeans.

“But, Jonah…you’ve alre- AH, ” Buffy elbows Marty’s side, and he cries out, clutching his stomach, “I mean, fuh-for sure, dude.” Jonah beams, unfazed.

And so equivalent to the previous and forthcoming days spent at the basketball court, the rag tag group of six head off into the direction of The Spoon Diner, bellies famished and hearts full.

If anyone were to ask TJ if he liked the winter season, he’d be upfront and say a hard no. He didn’t used to have this resentment for the holidays, he would argue. Early in his childhood, he associated Christmas with gingerbread cookies in the oven wafting the scent up to the second floor where laid TJ and Amber in their pajamas, squeezing in as many movie classics (his personal favorite was Elf- Will Ferrel was a riot) as they could before being called down for their mom’s bountiful dinner. But as TJ grew older, their parents cared less and less. It came to the inevitable point where they stopped caring altogether and left him and his sister to scrounge around the fridge for leftovers come Christmas day.

To add vodka to the already blazing fire, winter means he has to walk in twenty fucking degree weather every fucking day coming home from the diner.

It’s safe to say that TJ favors summer over winter.

As TJ crosses the last street to his house, rummaging through his pocket for the key, he hums quietly to himself. The words blaring in his earphones comes as second nature to him as taking a puff of an inhaler would to Cyrus.

Tapping his fingertips against his leg to the rhythm of the beat, he pulls up to the front door and slides the key into the hole. TJ sticks his phone into the pocket of his sweatshirt, freeing up his other hand to twist the knob.

Upon entering the room, he takes notice of the limp body on the fold out couch in the living room. Spotting the honey blonde hair peeking out from under the comforter, he realizes it really could have only ever been one person.

He sighs, wondering briefly what his mother had done again to upset Amber, before kneeling down beside the couch. TJ chews on a fingernail, settling on whispering a meek, “I’m sorry.”

TJ’s not sure what he’s sorry about. Maybe it’s because he wasn’t here for Amber when his mother went on a frenzy again. Maybe it’s because Amber, at such a young age, was exposed to a horrid family life, resulting in her having to take care of TJ. Maybe it’s because of the reason that Amber never could appreciate her adolescence and was forced to grow up way too fast is why TJ’s sorry.

Considering he’s only arrived at his house a few seconds ago, he thinks it’s a little ludicrous that he feels an urge to leave again. TJ ends up doing just that. He hisses when the chill hits him, creeping under all the layers of Cyrus’ garments. Instead of walking in twenty degree weather to his destination in mind, he snatches his rusty bike leaning against the side of the front porch. He walks it to the edge of driveway and only hops onto it when he scans no cars in the vicinity.

Pushing the pedals, he feels the bike increase speed the more distance he crosses. With the wind blowing against his face, what ignites inside of him is a sense of freedom, the fire low and dim but burning, nonetheless. His eyes are steady to the horizon, vibrant colors mixing as the last rays of sun fade into the night. Power at his feet and the control at his fingertips, he passes through the intersections and streets. TJ zooms past cars, trucks, and people, thoughts clouded of shitty parents and strawberry scents.

Rounding the corner of Wesley S. Rd, he continues to pedal until he reaches the point where the road curves into a ‘U.’ TJ anchors his foot down, halting the bike. He hastily pitches it across the front yard before snatching a handful of rocks just adjacent to where his bike lay. He treads over to (where he hopes is) Cyrus’ window, tossing one of the rocks in his other hand similar to how he would toss a baseball just seconds before pitching.

As soon as he’s a decent distance away from Cyrus’ window (he’s still hoping), TJ extends the arm clutching the rock back and fires at his target.

It successfully ricochets off the window with a kthunk. He hurls another rock, and shortly before he’s about to throw his third one, the window opens. Leaning against the windowsill is Cyrus, one hand rubbing his eye and other resting up on the wall.

“TJ? Are you okay? What-What’s up?”

TJ bites his lip then mumbles, “Cliff.” Cyrus understands straightaway, taking in TJ’s haggard expression.

“I’ll be down in five,” Cyrus says, closing his window shut and sprinting to his closet to break out his winter jacket he wore earlier that day.

A few minutes pass and TJ is sat on his bike, resting his chin on his hand. He inspects the nails of his left hand, noticing the ragged edges and broken tips. For a moment, TJ is reminded of the shiny, mint lacquer Amber always paints on her fingernails and is curious to see how mint would look on his. Just as fleeting as that thought comes, it goes.

In that instant, Cyrus bolts out of the door, gently closing it behind him. He pulls something out of his pocket, grinning up at TJ, and he recognizes it as the boy’s inhaler. “I’ve come prepared.”

TJ laughs. He’s glad that Cyrus can joke about what happened last time instead of cringing anytime something remotely related to the incident is brought up. TJ holds his hand out, adding a bit of flair (he knows Cyrus gets a kick out of that), “Lead the way, Muffin.”

The smaller boy nods, unchaining his bike from the fence. He swings his right leg over the seat and mounts the bike. Side by side, the two boys pedal into the direction of the cliff. Though Cyrus is painfully slow at riding a bike, TJ doesn’t mind, adjusting his speed so that Cyrus could keep up with him.

TJ watches as the once vibrant colors pale, nightfall beckoning the stars to come out.

He rides along the path with his best friend, the pressures and strains of his home life disappearing as day turns to night and conversation fails to cease in the afterglow.

TJ gathers another pebble from the ground, rolls it around in his palm, and hurls it into the deep end. He concentrates on the rock until it is no longer in sight, descending to its doom.

“Sorry to hear, Teej, “ Cyrus says lowly beside him.

“S’ not your fault at all.”

“But it’s still hard to hear what you go through. I just- I’m sorry I’m not always there when…” Cyrus trails off, unsure if he should cross that line right now.

TJ faces him, and when he sees the genuine grimace on Cyrus, he chuckles, tilting back into the trunk of the tree he’s sitting beneath. “Trust me when I say that just being here with you, sitting on a cliff overlooking all of Shadyside underneath millions of stars in the sky - it feels like I can finally breathe after carrying around so much stuff. And that I can do this whenever I’m feeling down? Makes it all worth it.”

Cyrus beams, satisfied with his response. He resumes brushing the tip of his index finger along the dirt, marking abstract shapes. After a while, he glances back up at TJ. “How’s math been going?” He knows how difficult math class has been for TJ due to his dyscalculia. On the other hand, he also knows that whenever TJ sets his mind to it, he’ll accomplish anything - not even a learning disability could hinder the boy.

TJ’s face lights up. “Really well. My teacher asked this one question, and keep in mind, we were learning a totally new subject, and she asked, ’What’s the pythagorean theorem?’ and I raised my hand and answered like motherfucking Albert Einstein, 'A squared plus b squared equals c squared, Mrs. B.’” He animates the whole exchange with his hands and voices, either pitching or lowering it depending on who he's imitating, and it endears Cyrus more than he’d like to admit. “And it was just so cool to say that in front of the whole class.”

“It’s good the teachers aren’t just cold-calling on you anymore. I don’t think I could afford another detention. Last time, my parents were weirdly enthused by it and let it go, but just the thought of that pink slip...” Cyrus shivers.

TJ laughs. “Ah, I remember. That was the first time I ever really saw you so worked up. Ms. Isaksen called my name, and when I couldn’t answer, boy, you let her have it! Man, you were a feisty, little one in 8th grade.” TJ smiles fondly. “…But you believed in me back then.”

“I knew you had it in you. To think, you would have asked Buffy to do your homework and would’ve been a hundred percent okay with it two years ago, but…teach a man to fish?” TJ giggles at the turn of phrase.

“Couldn’t have done it without your help. Thanks for tutoring me, I appreciate it.” TJ shoots him a grateful smile.

Cyrus shrugs nonchalantly. “AgGH, you know, what are friends for? It’s all good in the hood. Yo-“

“Cyrus!” His eyes widen like a deer in headlights, mouth still open from rambling. “It helped. Just accept the thank you.”

The brunette seems to mull it over before nodding his head, a small smile forming on his lips. “You welcome.”

TJ breathes in. Out. In and out again, slower. A technique Amber was taught during her therapy sessions to calm her down years ago that she went on to teach TJ. Cyrus has grown, is the thing. Puberty slowly but surely hit him and years later, he’s grown into himself. Light tan skin, a faint dimple carved into his right cheek, big doe brown eyes, and hair gelled into a slight quiff, a few strands sticking to his forehead. The timid, awkward teen TJ met that fateful day at the cafeteria transformed- no, not transformed, more like revealed- his sassier, chaotic persona to the public over the years. The Cyrus his friends knew behind closed doors became the Cyrus everyone knows at school, and TJ is so proud of Cyrus for being proud of himself.

“Still can’t believe you made Buffy do your homework, though,” Cyrus snickers, and TJ gapes at him. He picks up a pebble and throws it in Cyrus’ direction, prompting a squeal of delight.

The rest of the night consists of talks about their families, their friends (yeah, they gossip about their friends sometimes like how Marty and Buffy are so painfully in love with each other but just won’t admit it gosh those two they swear). They talk about how Gabby, the cafeteria lady, is underrated, how they should make plans with the gang to watch Love, Simon, leading to a heated discussion about how TJ secretly prefers rom-coms over action films. They talk until pinpricks of light shine in the inky darkness, until the weather drops even lower, until Cyrus’ curfew.

Only then do they stand up, brushing themselves off, and mount their bikes. The two ride the same direction they came from, slinking through the broken barbed wire. They drift down the hill, positively giddy about the decline, and laughing into the night.

The ice skating rink in Shadyside only opens up annually near the end of November.

On the day that construction is finally finished and the rink has its grand opening, Buffy drags her five friends downtown, ecstatic that the once-in-a-year occasion has arrived.

“It’ll be fun!” She said. “I promise you won’t fall!” She said.

Jonah begs to differ as he has approximately fallen seven times since they first step foot onto the rink. After the first four, one would think that Jonah would save face, but no. The boy has too much pride to fail at ice skating.

That’s the main reason why Jonah is currently clutching the rails, holding on for dear life, wobbily stepping one foot in front of the other. He’s too distracted to notice the herds of people passing him with ease, too distracted to hear Marty sneak up on him.

“Boo!” Jonah startles, any shred of sanity and composure to which he tried to cling to all flying out the window. He falls again.

“Dude! Warn a guy, geez, “ The boy on the ground anchors his right foot down then left foot and shifts his weight onto both of his legs, steadying himself as he stands upright.

Marty laughs, “Sorry, couldn’t resist. Saw your last three nasty takedowns, and I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Fine,“ Jonah croaks out, and it would have convinced Marty, if not for Jonah immediately losing his balance thereafter. He scrambles for Marty’s shoulders, and the other boy grips Jonah’s arms. Jonah musters a weak smile at him, and Marty laughs again.

“How about…we go get some hot chocolate? I saw a food booth on the way to the rink.” Marty suggests, only amiability laced in his voice. Jonah nods vigorously.

Technically, he’s not the one who threw in the towel, right? Yeah, he’s fine, Jonah accedes. “Okay, sure.”

This time around, Jonah’s not clinging to the rail but to Marty’s arm, who is darting around the crowd with a certain grace - and Jonah would have been in awe if he weren’t so petrified for his life.

The two friends cruise by the Good Hair Crew, Marty waving a hand for the both of them. Buffy flashes a grin at Marty and the sight of Jonah holding onto Marty like moss to a damp wall. The other two members of the crew are so caught up in their conversation, they either don’t notice or don’t care for them passing by.

“…so yours would be a tiger!” Andi glances up from the list on her phone. Cyrus comprehends this information, idly tapping a finger against his chin.

“Okay…yeah. A tiger! I see it. Noble and fearless. Warm-hearted yet fearsome, brave in the face of danger yet yielding and soft in mysterious, unexpected places.” Cyrus fleshes out, mind wandering a mile a minute, all the while Buffy and Andi restrain from breaking into fits of laughter. Cyrus smiles happily. “Not too bad, February.”

Buffy shakes her head at his best friend’s antics, biting back a smile. “Okay, me now!” She says to Andi.

“Alright, alright, calm down.” Andi giggles, bringing her phone closer to her face. “Let’s see - January.” Her eyes fix onto the first line, “A-ha! You are an…ox.”

Buffy furrows her brows, “An ox?” She looks a little scandalized.

“An ox.” Andi confirms, lifting her eyes off the screen, and Buffy looks less than impressed.

“C’mon! An ox is amazing!” Cyrus cries out, fists clenched as if willing to defend the ox’s honor until death.

Buffy turns to Cyrus, adjusting her beanie that’s nearly about to topple off her head. “Oh, really? Please, Cyrus, do tell.”

“Happy to,” Cyrus huffs, hands on his hips and elbows up and pointed out, “Oxes have an honest nature and place great importance in their ideals and ambitions for life. A strong desire to better themselves leads them to achieve their goals. They are rarely influenced by others or the environment and persist to handle things in accordance with their ideas and capabilities. Meaning, an ox is a strong-willed badass who never takes shit from other people.”

The other two are left dumbfounded as Cyrus ends his rant with a broad smile. For a lack of anything better to do, Buffy coughs into her arm.

“Wow…that was — How do you know so much about animal personalities?” Buffy manages after a while, still a little breathless.

Cyrus shrugs. “I don’t. I just described you. As much fun as learning about our Chinese astrology is, it shouldn’t define how you see yourself or…make you doubt yourself.”

“Oh,” Buffy musters, voice hoarse with unshed tears. She doesn’t often show it, but her friends are definitely the best aspect of her life, and hearing one of them compliment her in the best way possible? Her heart lurches in happiness.

“I think this calls for a group hug,“ Andi coos, and they all smile tearily. The three wrap their arms around each other, hugging tightly. Buffy sighs deeply, content in the arms of her friends since second grade. It’s almost unbelievable to think that, yeah, they’ve been best friends since that young. Over the years, there were absolutely fights and tantrums in the group, but nothing they couldn’t work past. Almost always, the fights ended in fierce apologies, waves of tears, and hugs. She feels so lucky to have this group of people around her every day, through thick and thin.

A sudden breeze whisks Cyrus’ neck, and when he angles his head behind his shoulder, he sees TJ fucking attempting to literally run on the ice rink. He’s leaning so far forwards, he looks as though he might face-plant anytime soon. He passes them nonetheless but not before winking and waving at the group, hindering his abilities momentarily. Cyrus laughs and when he reckons that TJ’s a safe distance away, he turns back to the crew. Their arms are still wrapped firmly around each other.

“Should I tell TJ I’m…erm,” He sucks in a sharp breath, lowering his voice drastically, ”you know — that I like boys?” When a silence follows, he starts to shrink in on himself, a task a bit difficult when engulfed in a group hug. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he feels a hand pat his back affectionately.

“Cyrus, the only person who gets to decide that is you. It’s your choice. Always going to be your choice when it’s something as big as trusting someone with that piece of you.” Buffy says, and she looks so serious that Cyrus might cry.

“So really, the question you should be asking is: Do you trust TJ?” Andi puts forth, and both eyes are fixed on him.

Cyrus glances back towards the rink where he spots TJ still fucking running on the ice. He seems to catch Cyrus’ eye, grin widening infinitesimally and extending his hand to wave at Cyrus. He fails to realize that he’s terrible at ice skating and should really focus on one thing at a time when he loses his footing, barreling down. TJ clutches his knee for a brief moment before mustering a thumbs up to Cyrus, a grimace evident on his features.

Cyrus thinks that, honestly? He’d trust TJ even in the worst of circumstances. If he can do that, he can most definitely trust TJ to love him no matter what. It’s time the boy knows this part of him that he’s kept holed away for his whole life.

“I do,” is all Cyrus whispers.

The two friends coil their arms even tighter - if even possible - around the boy, a sense of pride and silent admiration deep in their chests. “I just hope he doesn’t end up hating me. I don’t know his stance on politics.” Cyrus mumbles into Andi’s sweater, and they all laugh.

They stay there for a long, long time, oblivious to the other people in the rink staring at them bizarrely. Only do they pull apart when they feel a fourth pair of arms wrap around them, and Cyrus lifts his head off of Andi’s shoulder to come face to face with Jonah’s toothy grin. He feels himself flush crimson.

“So what’s with all the lovin’? Who died?” Jonah looks between them, searching for an answer.

“No one - just this conversation.” Buffy counters cheekily as she draws her hands away from the two.

Marty strides up right behind Jonah, his milky white face rosy around his cheeks from the sheer coldness. In spite of it, he does feel a lot warmer from the hot chocolate he downed just moments ago.

Buffy brightens as her partner in crime skims closer to the group, ”Speaking of Marty from the party-“

“He was never brought u-“

“Come with?” Buffy finishes. That question is all it takes for the boy to agree breathlessly, following behind Buffy (Cyrus thinks Marty would follow her to the ends of the earth) when she zooms past him.

And so for the remainder of the day, Buffy and Marty race around the ice rink, nailing figure-eights and finding ways to one-up the other. Later on, the rest of the group will find them already halfway through devising an impressive choreography that even TJ Kippen will flabbergast over.

Meanwhile, Jonah, Andi, and Cyrus are still leaning against the rails of the rink, stood in the same location where the two left them, when TJ comes up to them, stumbling and a misstep away from tumbling over.

“TJ! What happened? You were gliding along the rink a few seconds ago.” Cyrus cries, voice pitched in a way that only appears when he’s blatantly lying.

“Yeah, well I may have fallen in front of a ten-year-old-girl and said ten-year-old girl may have laughed at me, and I also may have lost confidence in my skills.” TJ sinks his knees further down, willing himself to stay balanced.

“You need some help?” Jonah asks, giggling lightly.

TJ fixes him a death stare, scrunching his nose, “Don’t think I didn’t see you fall over many a times, Beck, because I did. And I am perfectly fine, thank you very much.”

“Are you sure, Teej? You look like you’re about to take a shit right now,” the three laugh at Cyrus’ comment, TJ still on his intense trek to skating without falling on his ass over to Cyrus.

He stops hastily (too hastily for Cyrus’ liking, he’s a concerned friend is all), stands upright, and turns his head to the right, ”Oh, TJ, you’re doing so well, especially since your friends are apparently Olympic figure skaters and never told you about it.” He shifts his head to the left and waves his hand in dismissal. “Oh, stop, you’re too much.”

And while Jonah and Andi regard TJ’s sardonicism with bemusement, Cyrus feels a sudden rush of affection for the boy. Cyrus stifles a giggle, skating swiftly over to TJ, whose distance is impressively close, much to TJ’s credit. “Come on.” He grabs TJ’s hand, interlocking their fingers. Cyrus thinks about how the cold doesn’t seem to compare to the warmth he’s feeling inside.

“Seriously, even you, Underdog? No offense, but you’re, like, the clumsiest person I know,” TJ chuckles to himself but his voice breaks a little, staring absently at their folded hands.

“I’m full of surprises, aren’t I?” Cyrus shrugs, a smirk lined on his lips, voice radiating a confidence he wouldn’t have unless having recently gained the upper hand.

He’s not able to see Andi’s face morph into bewilderment at Cyrus’ boldness that came seemingly from out of nowhere, because he’s already tugging a screeching TJ away from the two bystanders.

“Never in a million years did I think that Cyrus and TJ would form the sort of relationship they have now, ” Andi says in awe, watching as TJ tumbles over after attempting to speed and Cyrus in absolute stitches.

Jonah nods along with her. “Who would have known?” He hears a quiet hum of agreement from Andi, and when he turns to look at her, he’s suddenly mesmerized by how cozy and adorable she looks bundled underneath her ginormous coat.

And when she turns her head to look back at him, the smile on her face is so bright that Jonah can’t breathe for a second.

When TJ reconciled that, okay, maybe ice skating's not for everyone, he began to bug everyone about leaving this Antarctican Hellhole until they finally did. They whizzed across the rink to the entrance/exit, piling under the overhead ceiling one by one. Trudging to a bench, dragging the weight of their skates along with them, they all squeezed onto the chairs.

“Ugh, my feet are dead tired.” Marty groans, leaning down to untie the laces of his skates.

“I think I could’ve gone for a few or more rounds,” Buffy shrugs, and the group doesn’t even need to look up to know she’s already wearing her signature smirk.

“That’s because you’re a cyborg whose only mission in life is to be better than me,” TJ says sardonically, pointing at Buffy. Buffy laughs and bats TJ’s finger away.

“Honestly, TJ, I don’t even have to try to be better than you. I already am.”

TJ blinks at her, and in an instant, he lights up, ”Speaking of basketball, we should go to this party on Friday! It’s to celebrate the end of basketball season before winter break starts up.”

In perfect synchrony, they all turn to Buffy who nods solemnly in response, “The man speaks the truth. He actually has a legitimate reason to go to a party instead of, and I quote, ‘to live his best life.’”

TJ slams his fist down onto the bench he’s perched on, “And live my best life, I will, damn it.” Cyrus looks over sharply at him and TJ meets his glance. “Don’t worry, Underdog. Even in my best life, you’ll always be my best boy,” he exaggerates a wink. Cyrus huffs, cheeks rosy, and looks back down at the skate still on his foot.

“I’m down for a party!” Jonah announces, smiling widely.

“That’s the exact energy we need! Homeboy Beck, you’ve made me proud once again,” TJ holds out his fist, and Jonah bumps it happily.

“Alright, I’m in, too.” Andi concedes. “Sounds like a fun way to kick off the break.”

TJ clasps his hands together and holds them to his chest moonily. “You have my heart, Mack Daddy.” Andi scrunches her face and sticks her tongue out, giggling all the while.

“Oh, a party would be so fun! The variety of games, food, and drinks-“ Cyrus starts.

“-And alcohol.” TJ snorts. Cyrus’ face pinches together.

“Alcohol? Would- would I have to…” Cyrus trails off, too shameful to finish the question. He inadvertently glances at Jonah for a split second. Thankfully, Buffy understands as she pats his back reassuringly.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Cyrus. You can always be the designated driver if you’d prefer not to drink. But if you do want to, we promise that we’ll make the environment safe and responsible. Really, it’s up to you. No pressure at all.” Buffy replies, and she says it so empathetically that Cyrus doesn’t feel much like a damper anymore.

Cyrus nods, allowing a small smile to spread across his face, appreciative of his friends’ thoughtfulness of his cautious tenacities. “Okay, yeah. Sorry, I just- I don’t know, I’ll think about it.”

As the rest of the group gives Cyrus encouraging smiles and comments, they switch the subject, Jonah bringing up the topic of their new ultimate frisbee jerseys. (“Not to blatantly hate, but I hate our new jerseys.” “I think they look really good on you, Jonah.” “Thanks, Andi-man! You’re the best.” “Could you two stop flirting for two seconds?”) TJ turns to Cyrus, poking him softly in the shoulder until he glances at him, and he whispers, ”Hey, you really don’t have to drink at the party, and there’s no need to explain or justify why. Do whatever you want to do, Underdog. Besides, who’s going to get me out of trouble when I accidentally pour beer on someone I hate again?” TJ grins crookedly up at Cyrus, and it’s so strangely warm and familiar that Cyrus forgets why he was so worried about not drinking in the first place.

“You’ll probably pour beer on that same person at the party.” Cyrus laughs lightly.

TJ hooks his arm around Cyrus’ shoulders and beams at him, ”You know me so well, Little Muffin.”

To Cyrus’ surprise (really, why did he even doubt TJ), TJ does end up accidentally spilling beer on Declan Kresnick, and TJ furiously blames it on the alcohol and how it’s corrupting his common sense. Cyrus thinks about how TJ has absolutely no common sense and is a pretty decent liar.

It was about an hour ago when they first entered the party.

Upon strolling up the driveway, Cyrus can already distinguish the potent smell of weed in the air. Whatever happens, please don’t let the smell stick on me, Cyrus thinks quickly. To his relief, the inside of the house is not as unruly as he previously thought it would be. Sure, a few people are pressed up against the wall, viciously making out with each other and there’s one guy fit into a tight, tight, red body suit and another guy passed out on the floor near the front door, but Cyrus had thought of the worst situation that could possibly happen, and the scene he encountered doesn’t come close.

He also forgot how well-liked and popular TJ was around the school until when they walked through the front door and there were cheers and greetings from around the room - all from people he barely talks to at school.

“King Kippen! You down for some Avalanche with the boys?” A boy he recognizes as Landon (#4 on TJ’s basketball team) bounces over to TJ, his drink splashing on the rugs as he does so.

Just then, they hear a shriek, “Floor!” and several thumps following. Landon laughs, carefree, turning his head to the undefined noise. “Hey, remember, I’m not in this round! Recruiting Kippen here!” Cyrus hears a series of whoops in response. Spinning back to TJ, Landon raises his red cup, a challenging brow raised, “So you in?”

TJ shrugs, “Nah, dude, I think I’m just gonna hang with my friends, chill out for a bit.”

Landon’s carefree persona slips as a look of utter disbelief takes over. It’s gone in a second. “Oh…really?”

“Yeah, dude.” TJ insists, mustering his best crooked smile.

“Uhhh, okay.” Landon snorts. His glare lingers on Cyrus just a little bit more than he does at the rest before trudging away.

“What’s up with him?” Cyrus speaks up after the group is left standing there in silence.

TJ breathes a hesitant laugh, “He’s not usually like that. I don’t know. Probably wasted off his ass.”

“Right.” Andi nods uneasily. She watches as Landon ambles around the corner, a wide grin plastered on his face, before turning back to the other five. “Drinks, anyone?”

“Brooo, I-I-I swear I didn’t even seeeee you! Did-Didn’t mean to get it all up on your hoodie,” TJ points madly at his temple, gesturing to his brain, “Crazy stuff happening in here, ja feel.”

“Oh my god, we’re not doing this.” Cyrus sends an apologetic expression to Declan. The latter being so wasted, he merely shoots him a thumbs-up and a grin and is on his dutiful way to the drinks table, forgetting all about the incident.

“Hey, I thought you were supposed to be Jewish.” TJ slurs, face comically confused.

Sharply letting out a breath, Cyrus spins around to face TJ whose interest has rapidly peaked somewhere towards the living room.

Then, out of nowhere, Cyrus hears Jonah’s signature yodel on the karaoke machine. Low and behold, center stage, in all its glory is Andi and Jonah singing their rendition of Start of Something New.

“And the world looks so much brighter,” Jonah belts, hand placed over his chest.

“Brighter, brighter,” Andi harmonizes, just as engaged in the song as Jonah seems to be.

“With you by my side!” The boy croons as he pulls Andi into his side, the two swaying clumsily to the melody. Cyrus doesn’t even ask why Jonah’s singing Gabriella’s part. He figures to just let it be since Jonah’s managing to hit the notes effortlessly. He’s really good at everything, huh.

“Whip it up, y’all!” TJ crows to the duo, and Cyrus is so perplexed as to what that even means. Nevertheless, Jonah raises his cup in acknowledgement while Andi continues to sing, oblivious to everyone around her.

Cyrus grabs a hold of TJ’s arm and hauls him to the lounge space, and he smiles in relief as he spots Marty on the couch. He tugs on TJ’s hoodie mumbling a soft Teej and that seems to get his attention as TJ looks up at Cyrus, eyes softened. “You need to sit and calm down.”

TJ scoffs, flailing his arms around, “I am perrrrrfectly fine standing up here. I like being tall! Gives me the best angles of your cute, little face.” Cyrus rolls his eyes, biting back a smile. Even inebriated to the point of zero function, TJ still pulls it out of the bag every time.

“If you sit down next to Marty, I’ll get another bowl of those pretzels that you really like.” Cyrus says in a sweet voice, and TJ’s toothy grin shines up at the other boy.

“The one that’s squished flat?” TJ asks, eyes wide and searching. Cyrus laughs lightly.

“Yes, the one squished flat.” The smaller boy promises, and TJ claps his hands eagerly, yelling excitedly as he runs off to the other side of the room, bumping into Marty and toppling over him. Cyrus smiles fondly at the other boy, taking one last glance before heading to the snacks.

Not even five minutes after leaving Cyrus’ side, TJ begins frantically searching for the small, small boy. He whips his head around the room trying to pinpoint the brunette, but he’s nowhere to be seen!

He blindly taps the person to his left, wondering where his friend went. TJ hopes the bad guys didn’t get Cyrus. He doesn’t know what he’d do without a Cyrus in his life. “Excuuuse me, mister. Have you seen my friend, muffin?”

The guy on his left (although they might be a girl everything is so distorted right now and wow is that a teletubby downing a shot?) shrugs indifferently. “No, what do they look like?”

“BEAUTIFUL. He- He’s got super s-silky dark hair that feels so nice when you touch it and- oh! He’s got these pretty chest-chestnut ey-, “ he stops mid-word to point to his eyes and continues on. “And he’s so talent, he uses potatoes to do theater. YOU HEAR THAT? Y’ALL BITCHES CAN’T EVEN SPELL THEATER.” TJ yells, words coming irregularly slow to him at the moment. The guy on his left- you know what, let’s just call him the left guy. It makes more sense. TJ nods in approval to himself. Yeah. It does.

Left guy looks like he’s about to slip away from this conversation, and no that can’t happen so TJ’s just about to pull him back to convince him to stay and talk to him, maybe if the left guy could introduce TJ to the red teletubby, when he feels hands on his shoulders pushing him down and- when did he even stand up?

Marty flicks, as TJ would say, the left guy a remorseful look before turning his attention back to TJ.

"You know if-if I was gay, I’d totally go for you.” TJ hums. “I take that back, Cyrus first then you.”

Marty nods in amusement. “Ahh, too bad you’re not. We really could’ve been something.”

TJ twists frenetically in Marty’s direction, shrieking, “But I’m not! Not gay. Mhmmhmm, no, siree. Learned that early in life.”

“Learned what early in life?”

“To keep secrets. Can’t trust anyone. Nope.” TJ shakes his head and then takes another slurp of his drink. Marty snatches the cup from him, extending that arm away from the other boy, and TJ whines.

“Gimme it!”

“I’m cutting you off. You are way too drunk for nine in the evening.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, TJ, you are. And I’m not arguing with you on this. You could have serious repercussions from binge drinking.” TJ huffs, muttering something along the lines of parents before settling for nuzzling up to Marty on the couch, affection sounding pleasant at the moment.

Marty chuckles, but he lets TJ cuddle next to him anyways.

What Andi needs is fresh air. What Andi wants is to croon to a couple more tunes of Britney Spears.

She eventually relents to her inner turmoil after the current song ends (a fan favorite, she’d argue), and she slides open the screen door to the backyard, stepping out of the house. As soon as the chilly air hits her lungs, she begins to relax. She loves a good party and all, but they can be a bit too much.

There’s a bonfire set smack in the middle of the lawn, the flames reaching higher and higher as the breeze pushes and pulls the effervescent fire. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees someone drawing nearer to her and turning her head...

Oh. It’s Amber.

Jonah’s Amber. Amber from high school. Amber from the sleepover. Amber who left her to fend for herself against law enforcement.

She scoffs as she makes a beeline for the house, but a warm hand catches her arm.

Andi turns slowly, and Amber still has a grip on her arm, and she’s leant in so closely, so closely Andi can trace the freckles on Amber’s face if she brought her hand up.

“Hey, Andi.”

Andi pulls her arm away. “The thing is I was just about to go, so…”

“Can you please hear me out? I...I know what happened was all my fault, and I take full responsibility for it. I’m just sorry I didn’t at the time. And if you still hate me after…then I respect that. I won’t bother you again. But I just feel like this thing we were building up ended so abruptly and without a real finality.” Amber gabbles.

Andi purses her lips, and she nods.

“The sleepover,” Amber starts solemnly. “I’m really, really sorry about what happened at our sleepover. You gave me a place to stay, and I broke your trust. Well, what little you had in me, anyways. I was in a really bad place at the time...and since then, I’ve talked to someone about it-“

“Like a therapist?” Andi queries. She automatically clamps her hand over mouth, eyes widened, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to assume or pry-“

“No worries, Andi. But yeah, one of Cyrus’ moms, Sharon, “ Amber explains, and she doesn’t understand why she’s telling this stranger all of her confidential information. It’s not until very later does she realize why. Because it wasn’t a stranger. It was Andi- Andi, who practically radiates positivity and a sense of comfort that Amber can’t quite describe. Andi, who knew of her destructive and deceitful past, overlooked that, and offered her a second home, a second chance. Which, of course, she blew.

Andi breathes in. Exhales out. “Are you okay now?”

Amber smiles faintly, “Yeah. I mean, my…situation is still the same. But thank god, I changed.” She feels tears prick her eyes.

“Good, that’s good. I’m glad.”

There’s a moment of silence after this, both basking in the light of the bonfire. Amber hears a smash of a bottle, girlish screaming, and laughter.

“I forgive you.” They glance at each other at the same time, and Andi averts her gaze to the ground instantly. Amber keeps her eyes locked on her. “It was a long time ago, and it’d be really stupid to hold grudges from middle school. You’ve changed, and I forgive you.”

Amber’s smile lights up her face. “Andi, you’re - you’re extraordinary.”

Andi’s face warms, and she returns the smile, albeit a little shakily.

“So, are you here with your friends?” Amber asks.

“Yeah. TJ’s wasted hanging off of Cyrus, just so you know.” Amber laughs, clamping a hand over her mouth.

“My baby brother! Drinking! That little rascal.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Cyrus was drowning him in water by now after all the alcohol TJ drank.” Andi shakes her head, reminiscing the two boys’ care for each other. Never one-sided. The whole group knew that they’d take care of each other until the end of the line. TJ would fight anyone who even looked at Cyrus the wrong way, and Cyrus would absolutely kick the balls of anyone who made fun of TJ’s learning disability.

“Those two. They’re really good for each other.” Amber observes, simultaneously happy for TJ’s newfound (not very new) group and aching for a bond like theirs.

“Yeah, they are.” Andi murmurs. She turns to Amber, “So, how bout’ you? With your friends, too?”

“Oh,” is all Amber says, the smile slipping away from her face. She hastily tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “I don’t have any.”

“Friends?”

Amber’s cheeks flush, the blossom of insecurity unfurling in the pit of her stomach. “Yeah.”

“I thought…” Andi starts, “What - what about Iris?”

Amber shudders, a pang of heartbreak clawing at her. “I don’t. We’re not…friends. Not anymore.”

“But I see you hanging around campus with your other friends?”

Amber breathes a laugh, and it hurts. “They’re not my friends.”

“Then, why do you - why do you hang out with them?” Andi asks, voice slow and soothing.

“Because it’s easier. Because when people expect you to be a certain person, it’s just easier to go along with it. Doesn’t matter if it’s not who you are. You go along with it. Especially for that purpose. Because living in this town, Shadyside, there’s a lot of people with a lot of opinions. Opinions that don’t coincide with mine. So you bottle it up, you eat lunch with people with blurry faces, and you chase people’s expectations of you, because it’s easier than sitting alone at a table.”

There’s a pause in the air as Amber starts fidgeting with her bracelets. She wants to cry, and a few tears slide down her cheek. She can’t bring her hand up to wipe the tear tracks because Andi would know.

Then, Andi speaks, low and steady. “I’ll be your friend.”

Amber grips the hem of her shirt even tighter, and she tries to control the way her breathing has become uneven and the way her whole body is trembling.

“Not like the other people.” Andi continues softly. “We can talk, tell each other jokes, and listen to music. We can hang out with Buffy, Cyrus, TJ, Jonah, and Marty. All seven of us. We’ll be your group.”

Amber looks up at her in disbelief, and Andi’s smile on her face warms Amber to her core. She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, and she nods wordlessly.

Neither of them move. They just stare at each other, right in the eyes, the chatter but a noise in the background.

Andi nods back. “Good.”

“Good.” Amber repeats in a whisper.

Andi’s lips quirk up as she looks forward, content with the gentle crackling sounds of the fire. Amber stares intently at the younger girl, the light giving her a glowing aura.

She closes her eyes, and it's as if time stood still. As if time was wrapped around her finger, just like Amber.

They don’t know how long they stay out there in the cold, but it’s apparently long enough for Buffy to search through all the rooms, in attempt to find the bob-haired brunette.

“I can’t believe I didn’t check outside first. Would’ve saved a hell of a lot of time.” Buffy whines as she leads both Andi and Amber into the living room. Upon entering, Amber notices a group of people arranged in a lopsided circle. She spots TJ and Marty on one side of the circle, Jonah and Cyrus on the other, and a space between them. The three settle into that gap, as if perfectly natural that the spot was for her to fit into.

When TJ spots Amber, he grins, wide and mischievous. “Hey, sister!” TJ chokes out around a cackle, stuffing a pretzel into his mouth.

Amber deadpans, “This was a mistake.” Andi tugs her back when she fakes moving away.

“We’re playing Never Have I Ever.” Jonah calls out, setting the jug of pure vodka in the center of the circle.

Cyrus eyes the jug uneasily, as if it might attack him at any moment. “What if I don’t feel like drinking, but I still wanna play.”

Suddenly, Jonah lights up, running off to the kitchen.

“Anyone have any clue where that boy just sprinted off to?” Buffy wonders.

“Beck’s gone rogue.” TJ giggles to himself.

Jonah comes running back to the room, sitting back down in his respective seat, panting as he says, “Go crazy with it, Cy-guy!” He sets down a bottle of apple juice and an empty red cup.

Cyrus gets a bit weak at the knees. Effectively shaken up, he fumbles pouring the juice into the cup. When he does finish the arduous task, he glances up to see Jonah raising his cup towards him, and his cheeks flush as they clink their cups together. Jonah lets out a breezy laugh.

“So we all start off with ten fingers,” Buffy speaks, holding both her hands up, “One of us says a statement about something you’ve never done, and if you have done that, you put down a finger, “ She does so, “And must drink.”

“Let’s get to it!” TJ cries, pumping a fist into the air.

“Who goes first?” Cyrus looks around the circle, eyes wide.

“I say the very sponsor of the game,” Buffy darts her eyes across the circle and smirks, “King Kippen. Would you do the honors?”

TJ mimes tipping the brig of his hat. “I’ll hoist the saddle, buckaroo!” He says in a cowboy voice. “Mhmm. Never have I ever broken something at a friend’s house and then not told them about it.”

And Andi’s just about to guiltily reel in a finger when TJ grumbles, “No wait, I have.” He glances sharply at Buffy.

Buffy gapes at him. “What did you do, you heartless dipstick.”

TJ shrugs. “I don’t need to answer this.” Buffy squints at him.

“Okay!” Cyrus laughs nervously. “TJ, what have you not done?

He contemplates this for a moment. “Never have I ever…pretended to laugh at a joke I didn’t get.”

Jonah puts a finger down and reaches for his cup.

“Jonah, you cunning animal!” TJ shrieks, slow-clapping.

The boy sets his cup down, wiping his mouth carelessly with his hand. “I was just trying to be nice.”

“Have you ever done that to us?” Marty asks, a grin tugging at his lips.

He pauses. “Of course not!” Jonah says with a wave of his hand.

Buffy hums. “You would absolutely never.” Jonah nods, pleased.

“Alright, uh. Never have I ever used a fake I.D.” Marty pipes. Amber pulls her thumb in, taking a swig of her drink soon after.

Andi’s brows raise into her hairline. “Wh-what?”

Amber shrugs, “Seventeen’s a sucky age. You work with what you have.”

“Huh, I thought seventeen would be, like, the number, you know? Freedom with no responsibilities. All that jazz,” Andi keeps her eyes on Amber, and everyone around the circle is so confused as to how this friendship revived from what was thought as long dead.

“I guess, but so far, it’s been pretty boring. Probably will just be another year off the list.”

“Oh.”

“...But, like, who knows? Maybe it could be the best year of my life! I’ve still got a lot of time before eighteen.” Amber sputters, in attempt to raise Andi’s spirits.

Andi smiles broadly and nods, “Maybe it will.” Amber directs her attention to the depths of her cup of alcohol as she fights back a huge smile.

“Oh, my turn! Yippee! Never have I ever gone to a concert.” As almost everyone around the circle puts a finger down, TJ gapes at Cyrus.

“Never?” TJ shrieks.

Cyrus smiles sheepishly, “No, I’ve never thought of it as a necessity.”

TJ simply shakes his head in response, putting his own finger down. “We’ve gotta change that, Little Muffin.”

Amber chokes mid-sip, and she turns hysterically to Andi. They have a conversation with their eyes that no one in the circle understands that ends in Andi laughing loudly.

“Uhh, never have I ever tripped over a dog then apologized to it.” Jonah says after the laughter dies down.

Marty puts a finger down, staring at Jonah accusingly. “That was strangely specific, and I feel called out.”

Buffy snickers, but really, her heart is so full of love and fond for the boy sitting across from her.

“No, but, like, that’s adorable!” Andi drawls, hands placed over her heart.

“I agree with Andi.” Jonah pipes up, and Andi shoots him a wide, grateful grin.

Marty scrunches his face and flails his arms around, “Okay, okay, let’s stop talking about it.”

“Anything for you, Martyr Marty.” TJ connects his palms together and bows fervently. Marty flips him the bird.

TJ gasps, a limp hand raised over his chest. “My, my, my what kind of example are you setting for the children?”

Marty rolls his eyes, a laugh threatening to dribble from his lips. “Very funny, Kippen. I think we should move on from this unfortunate revelation and all listen to Andi’s next statement.”

“Uhh, never have I ever...had my first kiss.” Andi blurts, nothing else coming to mind.

Jonah, Marty, Buffy, Amber and TJ all put a finger down. Amber doesn’t bother hiding the small grin on her face at Andi’s secret. It’s a bit thrilling, honestly.

On the furthest side of the circle, Cyrus’ legs are blocking a clear view of his fingers, and he brings them closer to his chest.

Unfortunately, evading attention is not at all easy in this group as TJ turns to Cyrus, playfully teasing with a toothy grin, “Put em’ up, Muffin Man! Can’t see if you’re cheating - of course, I would let you - but I need to know in advance.”

So Cyrus grudgingly holds his hands up above his legs, and TJ sees the perfect ten still splayed on his fingers. TJ’s mischievous smile softens into something completely opposite. Cyrus looks evidently uncomfortable and like he might throw up anytime soon, so TJ stands up abruptly, the rapid motion agonizing his head.

“This game is stupid, anyways. Let’s get back out to the party.”

“But the game is al-“ Buffy starts, utterly perplexed.

“This game is stupid, and we’re going to dance now.” TJ decrees once again, and he makes a beeline for the living room, leaving behind the six confused teenagers in the room.

Cyrus watches as the dirty blonde head of hair exits the room. Overwhelmed and deeply touched, he’s unable to express his feelings of beatitude with words. So he resolves to pushing himself up off the floor and following TJ out the door.

Swings at midnight?

sure muffin i’ll b there soon

TJ plops his phone on his bedside table next to the mug of water that he’s been nursing since he arrived home from the party and heads to his closet to snag a hoodie. After ruffling through the dozens of clothing strewn on his closet floor, he finds his favorite one and hastily puts it on. He does the same with his pair of sneakers and once he’s ready to face the cold, he snatches his phone and saunters out of his bedroom.

Luckily for him, the park is so close to his house - only about ten minutes away.

In that space of time, he ponders why Cyrus would want to meet up at the park. Of course, sometimes they go here to just hang out for a bit and take a break from school, home, everything. But it was the middle of the night. It was past Cyrus’ curfew, for god’s sake! What would Cyrus need to ask or talk about to risk blowing curfew?

Then, he thinks about how the park ended up being their spot. At first, it used to be a separate activity. TJ would be on the swings one day, and he’d see Cyrus sit down in a vacant one next to him, and they’d just swing. It didn’t matter if they talked about why they were there exactly. Sometimes, all they needed was company in silence.

Over time, though, they began talking. He learned about Cyrus’ four parents, knows about his classified fear of thunderstorms, and about how he’s surprisingly creative. In exchange, TJ confided in him about his issues at home, about his learning disability, and his own fear of not being good enough.

They became good friends after.

When he reaches the park, he finds Cyrus already on the swings, swaying back and forth mindlessly.

“Underdog!” TJ calls out as he approaches the swings.

Cyrus turns his head, and he tentatively waves at TJ.

TJ sets himself down on the swing beside Cyrus, and he rocks his feet to get the swing going. “So, what’s up?”

Cyrus purses his lips, glancing up at TJ nervously. “It is okay if- if we just sat here? Just for a little while. And then I’ll tell you.”

Albeit confused, TJ nods his head, speaking softly, “Course we can.”

So they sit there, inhaling the winter air as they gently rock back and forth. The wind swirls around them, soft and rhythmic. In the horizon, TJ can’t make out a single person, coming to the conclusion that it’s only the two habituated in the park. It feels serene, feels like a whole other world without any people around them, with the stars twinkling in the night.

The silence is long and drawn out for what feels like forever. It’s not like the end of the school day where the last few minutes seem to mock TJ. No, it feels more like when you’re in this moment in which you’d happily stay in forever. Where you know it’s one of the answers to the question, “If you had to pick a moment in your life to travel back to, what would you pick?”

Cyrus finally speaks against the void of noise, timid and quiet, “Can we sit down on the grass?”

Simultaneously and wordlessly, they jump off their swings and amble to the field of grass a little ways away from the swingset.

Once they settle down, sitting side by side, Cyrus says, “I want to tell you something. And I’m a little anxious to tell you it.”

“You got herpes?” TJ blurts, words coming out faster than his mind can process.

Cyrus snorts, “No.”

“You’re dying?”

“We’re all dying, Teej.”

“Dark stuff, man.”

“You’re an actual idiot.”

TJ barks a laugh. “Okay, seriously, Underdog. What’s got you so on edge?”

Cyrus feels a bead of sweat travel down his back despite the cold, cold weather. His hand begins to tremble against his bouncing knee. He breathes. “I don’t like girls.”

TJ chuckles confusedly. “Well that’s kind of awkward. Aren’t your two best friends girls?”

Cyrus glances up at TJ incredulously. He scratches his head. “No, I don’t like girls...because I like guys. I’m gay.”

TJ blinks and simply gawks at him. “Oh.”

Cyrus harrows at the lack of a longer response, and then he feels a gentle nudge at his shoulder. Turning his head, he gazes up at TJ, whose eyes are glinting with mirth.

“So you’re a rainbow chocolate chocolate chip muffin.”

Cyrus breathes out sharply, a small laugh along with it. He shoves TJ playfully. “You’re a complete ass,“ Cyrus says, unable to keep the smile out of his voice.

TJ sways to the side a little bit, but when he bobbles back, he hooks an arm over Cyrus’ shoulder. “Really, though, nothing’s gonna change, Cy. Other than knowing who you like to spend your days ogling at, you’re still the same nerd I know and love.”

Cyrus beams and he rests his hands in TJ’s lap, curling up next to the other boy. “Thanks for being so cool about it. I love you also.”

TJ nods his head once. He props his chin atop Cyrus’ head, and Cyrus can’t hear him, can’t see him, and it happens in a flash of lightning, but TJ tilts his head and presses a soft kiss to Cyrus’ head of hair. He's so unbelievably happy that Cyrus trusts him to the extent of being able to tell him one of his most prized secrets. He's not sure how they got to where they are, but he's so, so happy they did. TJ revels in holding the boy close to him, the starry sky cast over them like a blanket of safety. He breathes in the windy air and breathes out into Cyrus’ hair.

“Teej?” He feels Cyrus’s chest vibrate as he speaks. TJ hums in acknowledgement.

“Can we talk about what happened earlier at the party? During Never Have I Ever?”

TJ laughs quietly. “Ahh, the perfect ten. What would you like to talk about, my innocent, sweet muffin?”

When Cyrus doesn’t respond, TJ feels all amusement drift out of him and shift to worry. What if he scared him off? What if TJ was supposed to be serious because Cyrus wanted him to be serious for just one miniscule, stupid second and he fucking ruined it? What if he ruined the only good thin-

“I want to have my first kiss.” Cyrus whispers all in one breath.

TJ breathes a sigh of relief, but he feels his legs weaken. Thank fuck they’re sitting down and not standing. “Underdog! Are you worried about that? No matter how big it may seem, trust me when I say no one gives a shit if you’ve had your first kiss or whatever.”

“I know that,” Cyrus responds. “I just…I keep thinking it’ll happen someday soon, but it- it never does.”

TJ bites his lip, “You really want your first kiss, Cyrus?”

“Yes!” Cyrus cries, lifting his head from TJ’s lap, the movement so rapid it catches TJ off guard. “I’ve heard all about my friends having their first kiss, and I just want to see if what they say is true. So far, it’s pretty 50/50 on the scale, but I’d like to add my own input one day. I’m fifteen, you know! I’m certainly not getting any younger, and I just want my first kiss. It’s even on The List T.M.” Cyrus whines the last part, and TJ lets out a shuddery laugh.

Cyrus rests his hands behind him on the grass, palms faced backwards. “I just want to have a first kiss.” He exhales dreamily.

TJ’s silent for a long time, and then he speaks, a soft, slow uncurl that makes Cyrus’ head spin. “I’ll be your first kiss.” Cyrus whips his head to TJ, effectively drawn from his hazy daze.

“I mean, we don’t have to…you know, but I was just thinking that I could be your first kiss. I don’t mind, really, I’m ecstatic, but I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Is this weird? I’m sorry. Jesus, you just came out of the closet, and now I’m asking to be your first kiss. I did make this weird. Fuck.

Cyrus watches the other boy ramble in amazement. When TJ glances up timidly, he finds Cyrus staring back at him, unwavering.

“Y-You’d do that for me?” Cyrus murmurs, eyes hopeful and searching.

TJ nods, soft and reassuring. “Yeah, of course, I’d do anything for you.” Their voices are so low that TJ thinks greedily that no one, not even any higher powers, could be able to hear them even if they tried. That this conversation is reserved for them and only them.

Neither of them say a thing. The air around them has become palpable, charged.

“Can I kiss you?” TJ breathes, eyes flickering from Cyrus’ eyes to his lips.

“Yes,” is all Cyrus replies, all nerves and jitters.

TJ leans forward, slow and tentative, soundlessly promising Cyrus that he can back out at anytime. But Cyrus stays fixed where he is, eyes widening a millimeter a second as TJ leans in closer and closer. Once they’re a mere centimeter away, their warm breaths mixing in the air between them and their noses bumping together, TJ swallows down the butterflies and presses their lips together.

Cyrus is taken aback for a second at the sudden action, but his eyes instinctively close. They stay that way for a few seconds, unmoving, until he feels TJ finally move against him.

It’s so, so unbelievably delicate, is the thing. He’s never known TJ to be capable of being this soft and careful. But he is, and he’s slowly pressing in closer, both his hands cupping Cyrus’ face as he kisses him.

When TJ pulls away a little, his hands moving from Cyrus’ face, whether it’s out of instinct or just a desire for more human touch or for a whole other reason, Cyrus chases his lips, bringing them together again. He sets a hand on TJ’s shoulder.

It’s possibly the most intimate moment of Cyrus’ life, in the complete dark and holding this boy, kissing him so tenderly.

Once Cyrus pulls away, he slowly peels his eyes open. He thinks comically that opening his eyes in the pitch-black darkness is equivalent to keeping his eyes shut. He can barely see anything in the muddy lighting, but he can hear TJ breathing heavily, because he’s so, so close to him.

They both stare at each other, panting and trying to catch their breaths. Their eyes are locked together, and time seems to stand still in the park. The air around them still radiates a kind of energy, one that makes the hair on the back of Cyrus’ neck stand on end.

“So…that do anything for you?” TJ blurts, a shit-eating grin widening on his face.

And just like that, the moment’s gone.

But Cyrus thinks to himself that oddly, yes; it did. His lips still feel warm and he’s drowning, drowning as he realizes that he feels something. He’s not sure what, but he feels it deep, deep down in his chest.

Of course, he can’t tell TJ that so he huffs and hits his shoulder, TJ laughing after.

“You’re so annoying.” Cyrus mumbles as he lays back down in TJ’s lap.

TJ brings a hand to Cyrus’ head of hair, drawing figure eights. Cyrus breathes in and out slowly, the boy’s touch soothing him.

“How was it?” TJ asks softly, his voice a whisper in the wind.

Cyrus swallows, shifting in his position to lay flat on the ground, allowing him a clear view of the starry night. “It was nice. I liked it.”

TJ hums, hand still carding through Cyrus’ hair. “I’m glad.”

Neither of them speak for a while. And they both know that that’s for the best. Unsure of whether to tuck this memory safely away, never to be spoken of again, or to laugh about this in the future, they decide mutually to just think of the present. They’ll sort it out later, but all they truly have as of right now is this.

Underneath the moonlight, the two boys lay there in the clean-cut grass, at ease in the heat of each other to keep them warm through the night.

Chapter Text

The second Pat Driscoll places the shift lever in park, Buffy bounces out of the car, zooming up the driveway. She holds the straps of the bag securely, and when she comes face to face with the door, she presses the doorbell.

Along with the customary ding dong of the bell, she also hears Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays muffled from inside the house.

The door swings open, the music becoming significantly louder and clear, and she sees Cyrus. He’s dressed in a proper striped vest and slacks, and the shorter boy beams at Buffy.

“Buffy, you made it!” Cyrus exclaims. “Hi, Mrs. Driscoll!” He waves, a smile wide on his face. “Welcome back to the Mack household. It’s a pleasure to have you on this fine evening.”

Buffy curtsies, a laugh gracing her lips, “The pleasure is all mine.”

Cyrus laughs delightedly, and he waves Buffy over, walking into the living room. “Come on. Andi, Jonah, and Marty are out back.”

As Buffy makes her way through the enormous house, she passes the kitchen where all the parents - save for Jonah, Amber, and TJ’s - have situated themselves, drinking steadily from their wine glasses and laughing brightly at jokes about taxes and politics that Buffy will never want to understand. She briefly waves at them as well. Bex comments on her radical blue dress. She smiles buoyantly, saying a quick thank you before being dragged into the dangerously cold snow.

The snow lay thickly across Cyrus’ deck, the veiled shrubs, everywhere - wherever Buffy lays her eyes on, all she sees is the pearly, white snow.

It feels like a fairy-tale of some sort, childlike and reminiscent. The sight of her friends piling snow into an already massive ball, bursting into fits of laughter when Andi pours a handful down Jonah’s back. It all feels nostalgic, quite like discovering a worn vinyl from the basement and playing it all over again.

“This is officially war!” Jonah declares as he ducks behind the towering column of snow, scooping a handful from the ground into his hands.

Andi laughs maniacally, and she spots Buffy, beckoning her over. “Buffy’s on my team, I call her!”

Jonah groans, rolling his head back. “Not fair, I didn’t even see her come in. You just want skills on your team!”

“That’s exactly why I’m picking her. She’s got the brawns and the brain. She’s a double threat, Beck.” Andi grins mischievously at the boy, and he smiles fondly at her.

“I accept your offer, but Cyrus here has got to be on the same team as me. The Unstoppable Duo! We’re untouchable, we swear.” Buffy crosses her arms, leaning against Cyrus, and he fumbles to recreate the same action. Eventually he does and the latter three have to admit they do look a bit cool.

“S’ okay. Just means I’m stuck with Beckocious over here.” Marty says, gesturing to the boy beside him.

Jonah gasps, affronted. “Am I just a piece of meat to you?”

Buffy shrugs, “Ehh, more or les-“ A ball of snow hits her straight in the stomach. She looks from her battle scar to in front of her, and she’s met with Jonah dusting his hands in a satisfied manner.

“Oh, that’s it!”

A full-out war commences, both sides hiding behind their walls of snow, occasionally stepping out, throwing a snowball at the opponent, and then expertly ducking behind the wall again. In seconds, the air is thick with snowballs so compacted, leaving them solid and icy.

Their grins are stretched wide as they blindly hurl snowball after snowball, and that feeling that Buffy had described when she first set foot on the chalky ice

(nostalgia)

is swirling around the hearts of all them.

TJ and Amber don’t show up until the group has exhausted themselves from the impromptu snowball fight. When the Kippens do turn up, it’s to be met with the sight of Andi and Jonah sat on the ground, lazily throwing snowballs at each other; Cyrus sprawled out next to them, winding his arms and legs back and forth, the shape manifesting an angel; and Buffy and Marty jabbing twigs into the snowman they’ve procured.

“Sorry we’re late, we had to wait until our mom left for work. She insisted that we spend that time with her before she went off. Not that we really did anything, we just sat on the couch, watching TV.” Amber spits as she draws nearer to the group.

“It was awful. We were watching Gilmore Girls. It wasn’t even a Christmas-related episode!” TJ pipes up, plopping down next to Cyrus.

Amber laughs dryly. “Look, I’m all for a Gilmore Girls marathon, but did it really have to be on Christmas Eve?” TJ snickers in response.

“Well, you two showed up just in time!” Jonah speaks merrily. “Buffy and Marty are just about to put all the items on their snowman. We helped a little in the beginning, but…” He trails off, shrugging. “It got a little aggressive. Words were said. Actions were taken.”

“It’s not my fault your balls end up more ovular than circular!” Buffy cries from where she’s adjusting a beanie on their creation. TJ cackles.

“You’re a 12-year-old trapped in a 16-year-old body, Kippen.” Andi shakes her head playfully before turning back to the subject at hand. “And Buffy actually placed a restraining order on us to protect the little guy. Made us all sign it. The only one she lets close is Marty.”

TJ snorts, “Is that really surprising?”

“Not at all.” Cyrus replies, and TJ turns to the boy. Cyrus is buried deep in the snow, the hood of his jacket creating a makeshift barrier between the chilly snow and his head. He looks content with his eyes closed and lips curled into a small smile.

Naturally, TJ just has to mess with Cyrus.

“Hey, Muffin. You come here often?” TJ props his elbow down so he’s facing Cyrus comfortably.

“Yeah, most days I’m here. It’s usually because Buffy, Andi, and I walk from school together.” Cyrus says flatly, eyes still shut.

“It’s a pickup line, honey.”

“T’was terrible. Next.”

And TJ’s just about to spit another fire pickup line he’s read online when Buffy interrupts the two, calling out, “Alright, I will let you all help with the decorating of my child, but I must be supervising at all times.”

“You heard the woman, let’s get to ransacking the snow person.” TJ says, patting Cyrus’ head of hair. The latter scrunches his nose, batting TJ’s hand away.

“I don’t wanna.”

“And why is that?

Cyrus grunts. "Comfortable."

TJ sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “I guess that leaves me no choice, but…to bring out the big guns.” Cyrus’ eyes immediately widen, and he sits up abruptly.

“No, no, TJ, don’t. You wouldn’t dare.”

“Guess we’ll just have to see if you get up or not.” TJ simpers. Cyrus squints his eyes at him. They stare at each other, awaiting who would make the first move.

It ends up being TJ as he lurches at Cyrus, his fingers brushing Cyrus’ ribs where the opening of his jacket is. Cyrus laughs hysterically, and he jolts from his spot, running from the other boy as TJ chases him around the deck. TJ eventually catches up to him when Cyrus decelerates in his movements. TJ catches him around the waist, twirling him around.

“Hey! Put me down, Teej!” Cyrus squeals, thrashing and trying desperately to conceal the laughter in his voice. It fails and TJ brings him over to where the group is standing beside the snowman, arms all crossed, unimpressed.

“I think I’ll just keep you in my arms forever.” TJ says moonily, laughs erupting in between his words.

Buffy clears her throat. “You two done yet?” Cyrus’ eyes widen.

“Oh, uh,” he wiggles out of TJ’s embrace, and TJ immediately puts him down. Cyrus is blushing as he steps away from TJ, mumbling nonsensically. TJ’s cheeks are also tinted with a slight shade of rose, and this - this comes as a surprise to the others. None of them can recall a moment where TJ Kippen was actually embarrassed about something. It’s a new sight that no one in the group thought they would experience for a long time due to the kid's lack of shame. Well, until now.

And since the two boys are inspecting the snowman with a sudden vigor, seemingly brushing away the moment, the rest of the friends figure to go along with them and forget all about it.

None of them, not even the two boys involved, do.

When they step back from the snowman, satisfied expressions plastered on their faces, Marty thinks that it feels like a part of each of them. The snowman is like a cumulation of all the pieces of them. Like something they can say is augmented by the seven. They all contributed to the snowman in some way, whether it be volunteering their beanie to be used or pinning the carrot on its face.

“I like the little guy.” Andi murmurs into the silence.

“Yeah. He’s perfect.” Buffy voices and they’re taken aback by her statement - perfect is a word Buffy craves but never seems to attain - but they know full well what she means.

It’s not really that perfect (the head is crooked, a twig is longer than the other, the button smile is lopsided, etc,…) but it’s them, and in some way, it just is.

“So, what should we do now?” Marty puts forth.

Cyrus shrugs. “Dunno. We’ve got a lot of time to kill before dinner.”

Instantly, Amber and TJ turn to each other, grinning knowingly. Amber raises a brow at Andi, “You got a TV in your room?”

They’re flopped all over Andi’s room - either her bed, her carpet floor, or her swivel chair.

Andi, Amber, and Buffy had decreed the former to be theirs, sprawling onto it when they first entered the room. TJ and Cyrus settled for laying on the floor, resting against the bed, and Jonah resided to the swivel chair.

No one knows how they wind up watching The Search For Santa Paws. Everyone thinks it was Andi who had put it on (really, it was Jonah who had sneaked the remote from beside Cyrus and chose the movie while others were arguing over what film to watch). When the blue cloudy screen and the orchestra of violins and pianos began playing, they all quietened, seven pairs of eyes locked on the TV.

So there they sat, entranced and fixed to the flickering screen. Only do they move when Amber and Jonah leap from their spots when I Believe in Christmas starts up, forcing their other friends to dance with them as well. That’s how they end up prancing around the room and twirling in a circle around Marty (somehow, Marty landed the role of Madison Pettis).

They continue watching the film, adding little tidbits of commentary here and there, until Cece calls them down for dinner. All their faces light up as they finally, finally get to eat whatever’s been cooking in the kitchen.

The long table in the kitchen is dressed nicely with linen placements and napkins. The best part, in many of the friend's opinions, is the delectable food nestled in the pots and pans in the center of the table. There are assortments of food such as glazed ham, mashed potatoes with a side of gravy, turkey, and Chinese dumplings.

But the best part, in Amber’s opinion, is the abundance of chairs all around the table, ensuring everyone gets a seat at the table. With the parents either already sitting down or conversing in the kitchen area and the kids darting for the seat they want, it feels like a proper, family meal.

For once, she feels like she belongs in a house. That she belongs somewhere.

“Dumplings? Docious!” Jonah exclaims upon observing the plentiful feast.

“Missuses Goodmans and Missus Mack, you have truly outdone yourselves.” TJ croons as he pulls out his chair, gleaming at the both of them.

“Oh, TJ, you’re such a sweetheart. Thank you.” Sharon says, a pleased expression on her face.

“Only the best for our favorite children!” Leslie adds over her shoulder as she continues to mix the cranberry sauce in a small ceramic bowl.

“I’ll drink to that!” One of Marty’s moms, Rachel, raises her glass in the air, laughing airily.

Bex clears her throat, looking at TJ, “Um, aren’t you forgetting someone?” She points her index fingers at herself expectantly.

“Oh, right, sorry, Missus Mack. Thank you for setting the table.”

Everyone bursts into laughter, including Bex, who buries her head into the crook of Bowie's neck contentedly.

“Really though, thank you, guys, for the amazing food,” Cyrus says sweetly.

“You welcome, dearest. Now, how’s about we all sit down for dinner?” Leslie suggests, and on command, everyone settles into their places, chattering and laughing as the rest of the food piles onto the dining room table.

It’s around 9:30 when all the kids collectively finish their meals, stuffed to bursting. They leave the table early (with the parental’s permission, of course) headed drowsily to the living room.

“I think I finally understand what meat sweats are.” TJ groans, stretching his arms out and resting them above his head.

“Pretty sure I just ate my body weight in food,” Buffy announces as she walks groggily behind the rest of the group.

Andi gasps, face brightening. “You know what time it is?”

While everyone gazes confusedly at Andi, Cyrus’ grin widens stupendously.

“Secret Santa time!” The two friends chorus in unison, adding a series of dance moves after the declaration.

“Let’s go get the presents!” They all wordlessly agree with Buffy, fleeting to the wrapped boxes and festive bags underneath the Christmas tree.

Cyrus knows he should feel weird about this. His whole life, he’s always just ignored Christmas. Saw it as something forbidden. But so far, celebrating Christmas has been really fun, and he now gets why people look forward to it every year. It’s the least he can do after his friends wholeheartedly celebrated Hanukkah with him and his family. Despite the fact that TJ almost burned the house down trying to light the menorah, it was one of the more memorable moments of his life.

His hand brushes the Star of David ornament he had placed on Andi’s tree just a few days before. He laughs lightly when he catches sight of the Spider-Man ornament (the other ornament he had retrieved from Party City when shopping with the gang) in juxtaposition to the Star of David ornament.

Yeah, it’s a lot different. But it’s not at all bad.

“From your Secret Santa! Hope you like it, Ands.”

Andi gawks, completely blindsided, “You were my Secret Santa? This whole time, I thought it was Cyrus!”

Cyrus turns to her, affronted. “You know, sometimes being bad at lying has its advantages.”

“Like Andi asking you who her Secret Santa was and you breaking down five minutes after?” Amber teases playfully.

“Correctamundo. I endured a…moment of weakness, thus, allowing Andi to think of me as her Secret Santa. So imagine the shock when, in reality, it was Buffy!” He nods haughtily towards Buffy. “You are totally welcome for building up the tension to a satisfying climax.”

Buffy stifles her laughter with a lip-bitten smile. “Thank you very much, Cyrus.” The boy shrugs nonchalantly in response.

Andi peers inside the bag, ruffling through the tissue paper. “Buffy! Oh my- oh my god, you got me fairy lights? And a whole paint set?!” She draws the cord from out of the bag, the bottles of paint after, her smile never disappearing from her face.

“I remember you always complaining about how the bulbs in Andi Shack were about to die out any day. I know it’s not that big of a deal, but I also know it was really bothering you.”

“Buffy…Thank you.” Andi holds her gifts like fine china, voice gentle.

“You welcome, Ands.” Buffy says earnestly. “Merry Christmas.”

Andi aims one more sincere smile at Buffy before turning to Jonah who’s conveniently seated right next to her. “And this is yours.”

Jonah beams, eyes wide and bright as, well, a kid on Christmas as he receives his gift. “No way!” He sets the contents of the bag carefully on the ground, and the group surveys what Jonahs’ so elated about: a set of guitar picks, an automatic guitar tuner, and vinyl records of Frank Ocean and One Direction.

“Take Me Home?” TJ reads, baffled. “You-You listen to One Direction?”

“Yep!” Jonah confirms gleefully, turning the One Direction vinyl over to peruse the list of songs.

“I genuinely don’t know how to react to this. How did I…How did I not know you liked them?”

“TJ, I’m pretty sure everyone had a One Direction phase at least once in their life.” Cyrus points out. “It’s like an initiation to the teenage years.”

“It’s true.” Amber nods solemnly.

“Did you have one?” TJ’s smile directed at Cyrus widening by the second.

Cyrus scoffs, as if offended by the insinuation, but then his face falls flat as he shrugs. “Yeah. Perhaps, I may still be in said phase.”

TJ’s lips quirk upward, and he’s so, so endeared. “You’ll have to show me their music sometime, Muffin. We can jam out together.” Cyrus blushes hotly, mumbling a quick sure.

“Thank you again, Andi. This is amazing.” Jonah turns to Andi, holding the vinyl close to his chest.

Andi waves her hand in dismissal. “Not a hassle. It was actually really fun picking your present out at Red Rooster with Bowie.”

“We should definitely go there together sometime, then.” Jonah smiles widely.

Andi nods eagerly, a bit flustered.

“Cool, it’s a date!” Jonah exclaims, eyes bright, and Andi just about loses all sense of being and composure in that split-second.

“Alright, alright, moving along. Beck! Who are you Secret Santa-ing for?”

“It’s actually you.” Jonah replies, grabbing a yellow envelope from under the Christmas tree.

“Me?!” TJ gasps, hands coming to rest above his head. “Oh, wow, I had no idea - I’m shocked, caught off g-“

“You knew, didn’t you?” Jonah butts in, a brow raised.

TJ slumps over, “Yeah. Got it out of Marty pretty easily.”

“That was told to you in confidence.” Marty whispers harshly to TJ and turns to Jonah. “Sorry, man. He got really annoying about it.”

TJ blinks rapidly, mouth gaping open. “Wow. Wow. I am shocked, betrayed, stabbed in the back.” He shuts his eyes feigning anguish, a hand placed over his forehead. “I don’t know how I can go on.”

“I got you Mac Demarco tickets.”

He sits up suddenly, all previous thoughts flying out the window, “I feel loved, appreciated, cherished…” TJ trails off as he rips the envelope open, eyes widening in awe, as he holds a handful of tickets for Mac freaking Demarco. He glances up at Jonah, overwhelmed with glee, and tackles him in a hug. Jonah laughs as TJ repeats thank you, thank you, thank you over and over again.

“We all pitched in, so all the credit isn’t just on me.”

TJ slowly unravels his arms from Jonah, sitting down beside the boy. He looks around the circle, and they’re all wearing fond expressions - even Buffy who usually scowls when she shows even a tiny bit of likeness towards TJ.

“You—what-I-I fucking love you all so much.” He proclaims, blinking back tears.

“We love you, too, Teej.” Amber smiles warmly at her baby brother. TJ laughs breathlessly.

“So I guess we’re all going to see Mac Demarco in June.” TJ eyes the tickets in his hand, still in awe.

“Yep,” is all Jonah replies.

“That means....” TJ turns to Cyrus, and there’s that glint in his eye Cyrus is all too familiar with. “It’s going to be your first concert!”

Cyrus’ brows crease. When did he-How did he—ohh. Never Have I Ever. His cheeks flush. “Guess it will be.”

TJ laughs breezily, pulling Cyrus into his side and ruffling his hair. Cyrus squeaks, mumbling not the hair. “You are going to have the best night of your life on June 26. And you’ll be able to remember every single heavenly moment by recording everything with your new camera!” And before Cyrus can interject, TJ whips out a box behind his back. “Ta-freaking-da!”

Cyrus all but barbarically tears the unkempt gift wrapping, and when his eyes fix onto the infamous logo of Canon, his breath hitches. “You bought me a camcorder?”

“Yeah, sorry about this wrapping by the way. The original one had lyrics that I would’ve made you rap before you opened your present, but I scrapped it. Get it? Wrapping? Rapping?”

And Cyrus can’t bring himself to answer or even roll his eyes and huff like he usually would, because TJ bought him a camcorder.

Here’s the thing: money’s a sore subject in the Kippen family - Cyrus knows this even if TJ prides himself in treating Cyrus the most extravagant meals everywhere they go (mostly consisting of a chocolate milkshake and a thing of baby taters). And yet, here he is, holding a camcorder that probably cost almost a thousand dollars to buy.

But in front of all his other friends’ undivided attention on him and TJ staring at Cyrus with bated breath, he also can’t bring himself to speak about it. Not right now.

So he sets that matter aside to be dealt with later, pulls on a smile, and says, “Thank you, TJ. This means so, so much to me. I love it.” And even though the subject of money was tugging at the back of his throat, he really did mean it. It meant everything to him.

TJ grins in a satisfied and prideful manner. “I knew you would! Only the best for the best.”

Cyrus chuckles, placing the camcorder on the floor with deliberate care. “Again, thank you, Teej. I can’t even-I don’t know how to describe how grateful I am for you...and your gift.”

TJ’s face softens, a rare occasion that only happens in the most coincidental of moments. “You welcome, Muffin. You deserve it.”

Cyrus smiles at TJ, the other boy returning it. And there’s that palpable energy again, a thrum running through his veins. He shakes his thoughts, turning to Amber. “Here’s your gift.”

Amber reaches excitedly for the box, tearing the meticulously placed bow and wrapping. Her eyes widen. “Cyrus! Oh my- Oh my fuck! You’re amazing, you’re the best! Everything is nothing in the presence of my savior, a.k.a you.”

TJ eyes Amber with hostility, “Hey, lay off my man.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Amber cries, ignoring TJ, eyes never leaving her gift: a sewing machine and fabrics.

Cyrus laughs. “Andi told me you wanted to design clothes when you were older. I figured I could help you take that step towards your future.”

Amber turns to Andi breathlessly, and the other girl gazes up at her, a soft smile etched on her face.

“You gonna be the next Ralph Lauren?” Andi teases playfully.

“You know it.” Amber musters, all other witty remarks caught in her throat.

“I do know,” is all Andi replies.

Amber averts her gaze back to her gift, a smile played on her lips. She looks back up at Cyrus, who’s watching the scene unfold with keen interest, and says another thank you. Cyrus simply nods in response.

“Alright, Coleman. Hold on to your white boy pants, because they’re about to drop.” Marty snorts as Amber plops the bag in front of him.

“Alright, let’s see. Ooh, a Nike tracksuit and a gift card! Very nice, Kipps. And…a bag of cheese puffs?” Marty looks incredulously at Amber, and she shrugs in response.

“I don’t know. When I was asking around for what to get you, Buffy said cheese puffs? I personally thought it was weird, but Buffy knew you best, so I just rolled with it.”
Marty laughs lightheartedly, crinkles forming by the sides of his eyes. “Cheese puffs?” he says to Buffy.

“Frankly, you and your obsession with the puffs is weird, but whatever makes you happy.”

“I don’t have an obsession with cheese puffs!”

Buffy tsks, shaking her head. “S’ what they all say.”

Marty cracks a smile, to which Buffy returns with slight laughter. He picks up the tracksuit spread across his lap, turning it over. “Amber, thank you. This is amazing, and I’ll definitely be wearing this, like, all the time.”

Amber smiles, satisfied. “You welcome.”

“So since everyone’s already off the table, I’m guessing that you’re my Secret Santa, Coleman?” Buffy says with a sly smile.

“Lucky guess.” Marty raises a cheeky eyebrow. He stretches his arm behind his back, blindly reaching for the small box, and when he does whip out the velvet box in front of him, Buffy’s eyes widen immensely.

Buffy laughs nervously, “Woaah, I love you and all, but don’t you think it’s a little too early-“

“I’m not proposing, you dork.”

“Oh,” Buffy says. “Well then. Continue.”

Amusement twinkles in Marty’s eyes as he looks down at the box he’s holding. He murmurs, slowly and cautiously, “I know how you always say you miss your mom when she gets deployed. So…” he opens the box, unveiling an adornment in the center. “I asked your mom to write a sentence of what she wants you to always remember while she’s gone.” Nudging it across the circle, he adds, “And I got it engraved on a bracelet.”

Buffy sits there, staring at the velvet box. It feels like the wind’s been sucked out of her. It’s silent. Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe she’s just tuned out the Christmas melodies in the background and the constant chatter of the parents still in the dining room. Tentatively, she picks up the box, and sure enough, she sees the message that she just knows she’ll cling to in times of loneliness for a long, long time:

I will always be with you, love. Life’s tough, but so are you. - Mom

Buffy looks frozen, drawing in a silent breath between her parted lips, never taking her eyes off the wristlet. When she does bring her gaze to the boy sat in front of her, she closes the box shut and tackles him in a hug, not unlike TJ had done with Jonah moments ago.

She sniffs, burying her face in Marty’s shoulder. “Thank you,” She whispers. She feels Marty nod his head as he wraps his arms around Buffy, rubbing her shoulder blades soothingly.

“Love you,” Marty whispers into Buffy’s hair.

“Love you more.” She pulls the boy in just a little bit closer.

TJ doesn’t even register his name being called until he’s dragged away from the group and into a dim hallway. He steels himself for a murderer, possibly even a demonic being, but it’s only Cyrus.

“What the frick is this?” Cyrus hisses, keeping his voice low. TJ’s dumbfounded for a second before he realizes Cyrus is pointing at his gift still laid on the rug.

“It’s a fricking video camera.” TJ muses, and Cyrus slaps him lightly on the shoulder.

“I know what it is, but just—how much did it cost? It must have been a fortune!”

“It doesn’t matter, Muffin.” TJ tries to evade, maintaining his nonchalant composure. Meanwhile, Cyrus looks like he’s ready to murder someone.

“Yes, it does! How much was it?”

TJ makes a show of rolling his eyes before relenting, “Fine. It was a hundred dollars.”

Cyrus’ mouth drops open. Oh.

“TJ, you really didn’t have to spend that much on my gift-”

“But I wanted to.” TJ interjects. “And I already bought it, so there’s nothing you can do about it, darling.” He pinches Cyrus’ cheek, and the latter bats his hand away.

Cyrus huffs, and TJ counts that as a win. “Okay, okay, but…just let me make it up to you.”

TJ arches a brow, a smirk lining his lips. Cyrus hits him on the shoulder.

“I meant like—how about…when we go to The Spoon, I buy you baby taters for at least two months. On me.” Cyrus offers.

“Okay.” TJ answers after seconds of contemplating this. His back is leaning against the wall, looking down at Cyrus at his side.

“Okay.” Cyrus echoes, and it’s faint. Both of them can hear it anyways.

“Cyrus! Help me steal the cookies!” A voice that sounds unmistakably like Amber yells from the kitchen.

Cyrus glances at TJ to shoot him a mirthful smile, and he finds TJ already looking at him. “Coming!” He shouts back absently.

A few seconds of silence pass by, Cyrus doing the exact opposite of what he had previously said.

“I’ll see you upstairs?” TJ finally speaks and looks to Cyrus. He nods, his smile turning warm.

“Yeah, I’ll see you.”

“Dispatch, Badman, do you copy?”

“Copy that.” Cyrus mutters into his phone. His back is pressed against the wall as he creeps closer and closer to the tray of cookies on the stove. It’s quite ridiculous, really, if he thought deeper into it, because he’s breaking and entering his own kitchen. Well, not exactly breaking.

Amber’s having fun, though, and to be honest, so is he.

Once he’s in arm’s reach of the red velvet cookies, he curls his fingers around the container, lifting it up with dire caution. After, he raises his phone to his mouth, “The flower has been picked, I repeat, the flower has been picked.”

He hears a sigh emit from his phone speaker. “Well, done, soldier. I’ll see you on the other side. Over and out.”

Cyrus backs out of the kitchen the way he came with the same vigilance. He only stops walking on his tip-toes when he spots Amber sitting at the bottom of the staircase, scrolling through her phone. When she looks up and sees the tub of cookies, she grins.

“Yes! You’re the best!” Amber claps excitedly, shooting up from her spot.

“Apparently, so are my dad’s cookies.” Cyrus chuckles.

“Cyrus, it’s not just the best,” Amber stresses. “It’s like little droplets of heaven.”

“I’ll be sure to tell that to Todd.”

“Speaking of heaven, thank you so much for wanting to become a director! TJ used to complain about work all the time, and he’d never shut up about it. But ever since he needed money to buy you your gift, he hasn’t once complained even if he started taking up way more shifts than he used to.”

Cyrus’ brows furrow. “Wait, Amber.” He extends his arm out, effectively halting her. He turns to face her, and she looks up at him, a perplexed expression on her face. “Do you, by any chance, know how much the video camera cost?”

Amber tilts her head in confusion, but she glances up and to the left. “Uh, maybe, like, around three-hundred? Three-fifty?”

Cyrus blinks. “Three-fifty?” He repeats. The words feel surreal from his mouth.

“I mean, give or take.” Amber adds, continuing her climb up the stairs. “But, yeah, around the three hundreds.”

And while Amber keeps walking unperturbedly, Cyrus is stood frozen in the middle of the staircase. When he realizes she’s already entered the room where the others undoubtedly lay, lounged on his bed watching yet another Christmas movie, he gathers himself and follows Amber into the room with a thousand emotions swirling in his mind for a certain boy.

After the end of the third Christmas movie of the day, the whole group still full of energy, moved the party outside to the chilly air and twinkling lights. The seven spend the rest of the night in Andi’s backyard, cuddled up in fluffy blankets around the bonfire.

Jonah had taken it upon himself to provide the ear candy throughout the night, lazily strumming the chords to Last Christmas, sometimes humming the tune and other times fully singing the song. While he tried his best to take requests, most times he would pretend to not hear the demanded song, his guitar skills just not yet up to par.

It’s moments like these, Jonah realizes, that makes life worth it. With Andi at his side, softly singing along with him, the yellow and orange flames as the only source of light, illuminating her beautiful face. With Cyrus and TJ snuggled up next to each other, bickering non-stop about whatever random topics pop up in their conversation, and Amber fondly rolling her eyes at the both of them. With Buffy stifling a laugh as she and Marty try to revive the snowman they had made earlier to its original state.

All things considered, in all the places Jonah Beck could have grown up in, he’s glad it was in Shadyside.

Chapter Text

“Cyrus! If you don’t get your cute butt down here soon, I will start lashing out at the others.”

“Is that a promise or a threat?” Marty deadpans.

TJ snorts. “It was a threat, but keep that same energy, Coleman. It’ll do wonders for you when you get down and dirty.”

Marty bursts into laughter, and TJ, the type of person to never turn down contagious laughter, howls along with him.

“What is happening right now?” Andi, looking up from her phone, observes the two boys dying of laughter.

“TJ’s just hallucinating after being away from Cyrus for more than five seconds.”

“Ooh, burn!” Marty whoops, and Buffy’s pleased with herself.

“Cyrus, they’re all ganging up on me! Come outside so we can roast them back!”

“Can you please just, like, love yourselves?” Jonah calls out from his position of laying leisurely in the trunk of the van. Andi chortles from beside him.

“I know you can’t see me, but I’m taking a wild guess and saying your eyes are closed behind your sunglasses. Just know I’m flipping you off.” 

“I can see you, and no, you’re not.” Jonah sing-songs.

“Darn. My twenty-twenty vision has failed me.” TJ pinches the bridge of his nose, feigning a sharp, somewhat animalistic cry.

“Can you just shut up for one goddamn second? I know it’s only been a few minutes, but you’re a big boy, Teej. You’ll see Cyrus soon enough.” Amber retorts as she strolls up to the van the friends are stood by. Her remark sparks guffaws all around the group.

“Can I just say that I am not nearly appreciated enough as I should be? It i-”

“Don’t worry, TJ, I appreciate you.” TJ’s face brightens as he hears his absolute favorite voice in the world directly behind him, and he whirls around and smiles at the sight despite himself.

Cyrus is decked out in wardrobe that could only be described as a “Beach Dad.” The first thing TJ’s eyes are drawn to is the milky white sunblock left on the tip of his nose. He’s also sporting a whimsical, colorful Hawaiian Shirt, knee-length khakis, and slides that are way too big for his feet.

“Woah, you going to a beach in Utah or The Bahamas?” Buffy teases playfully.

“You can never be too careful! One in five Americans will develop skin cancer in their lifetime. Unprotected exposure to UV radiation can also cause premature aging, cataracts, and other skin and eye damage!” Cyrus shrills as he drags the bucket of beverages and assorted foods to the van.

“Yeah, I’ve heard the blinding colors of Hawaiian Shirts repels the cataracts, and legend says the sunblock placed strategically on the nose will successfully ward off skin cancer.” TJ jokes.

Cyrus huffs vehemently. “Make fun of me all you want, but don’t come begging for my SPF 50 when your skin peels off!”

Everyone laughs lightheartedly and files into the van, but TJ catches hold of Cyrus’ arm, and Cyrus twirls around to face TJ.

“Hey, I-uh. I didn’t make you mad, right? I’m sorry if I went too far. I...didn’t mean to.”

Cyrus’ taut expression softens, and he smiles. “S’okay, Teej. And I know you would never mean to.” He feels a little ashamed when he remembers that TJ never means any harm from the wacky things he does, that there’s never any malice in his actions.

TJ nods, lips tugging up into a crooked smile. “And you’ll let me use your SPF 50?”

Cyrus nods decisively, smile widening by the second.

TJ lightly squeezes the grip he’s already got on Cyrus’ arm. “Now let’s go before we end up in the backseat.” Cyrus laughs. TJ grabs the bucket of beverages while Cyrus carries the food, and they both make their way to where the rest of their friends are waiting.

“I just think it's unfair. You all know I have a fragile back.”

“Sorry, Cy. You were last, and unfortunately, whoever’s got the speed gets the front seat.” Andi recites from the passenger seat.

“Ooh, that’s a really good one. Who made that one up?” Amber asks as she successfully  moves into the adjacent lane and swiftly switches her turn signal off.

“Jonah.” Both Andi and Cyrus pipe up at the same time.

“Wh-What? Am I in trouble?” Jonah jolts in his seat, his sunglasses toppling off his head. He groans as he reaches for the glasses while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Nope.” Buffy pats his head patronizingly with a light laugh. “Just keep resting your pretty little head.”

Jonah hums in response, folding his arms and leaning back into the seat.

"Come on, people. We are going to the beach!”

Cyrus offers a soft “Beach,” after.

“Ninki Minjaj.” Andi’s able to say before TJ continues with his noble speech.

“Do you know how many times we’ll be able to do this in Shadyside?” TJ offers no space for input before diving back in, “Correct. None. So we gotta live fast, die young right now, fellas.”

Jonah sighs, shifting his sunglasses to perch on top of his head. “I mean, he’s right. Don’t really get to do this often considering...y’know.”

“See? I’m right.” TJ haughtily smirks, and Cyrus smacks him in the shin.

“Jeez Beck, you go under for fifteen minutes, and you forget that we never tell TJ he’s right, ‘specially when he’s actually right?” Marty sniggers at Buffy’s comment. She grins and settles back into the pillow in between them that they were sharing.

“People, people! I know that the fact that I’m right has caused a little Great Schism moment between you, “ He pauses to stare daggers into the back of Buffy’s head. “But some of us are so close to graduation, alright? Who knows how long we’ll get to be as just the seven of us?” A chorus of murmurs and agreements flow over the van. “So let’s just go out there and live our best lives, alright? Yeehaw.”

Groans from all around erupt the van, and TJ sees Cyrus trying to hold back a laugh.

“Was going so good until that last part.” Amber shakes her head amusedly.

“Yeah, I actually believed him for a second. Thank god he said that.” Marty presses his index and middle finger to his lips before solemnly raising them to the roof of the car.

TJ’s ready to fight everyone in the moving vehicle when a familiar piano riff blares through the speakers, effectively halting any ongoing thoughts.

Andi quickly turns the volume down to a decent number. “Shit! Sorry. She’s louder than I expected her to be.”

“Pause.”

“What? I’m not pausing the music.” Andi turns around in his seat, a little appalled.

Marty sighs. “No, it’s this thing TJ’s been recently obsessed with. Very sorry on behalf of his behavior.”

“It’s supposed to be the new ‘That’s what she said.’

“That’s stupid. Just say ‘That’s what she said.’ It’s already iconic.”

“Are you questioning my beliefs, Big Mack?” TJ gasps.

“Yeah, I am, buddy. Whatcha gonna do?”

“I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do! I-“

“I will strangle you myself. Don’t make me come over there.” Marty pipes up, looking towards the back. He can’t see TJ though, what with the pillow blocking his view.

TJ screams “Pause!” at the top of his lungs at the same time Andi shrieks, “That’s what she said!”

“Why do I even bother pretending to protect you from my dumbass of a brother when you’re the worst one out of all of us?” Amber grins, glancing at Andi for a split-second before focusing back on the road.

Andi laughs.

“Wait, everyone be quiet!” Cyrus frantically sits up, and everyone becomes frozen in their current position.

“Muffin, wha-“

“Ands, are you playing the song?” Cyrus cries.

Andi rolls her eyes. “Took you slowpokes long enough.”

The chorus starts up, and Jonah begins singing (yelling) along to the song. The rest either join in with Jonah or contribute to the background voices.

I'm sorry, but I'm just thinking of the right words to say 
I know they don't sound the way I planned them to be
But if you'll wait around awhile, I'll make you fall for me
I promise, I promise

“I willlllllllll.” TJ drags out dramatically. “Need to tell ya. Gotta tell ya!”

“I’ve got to tell yaaa!” Amber joins in with TJ, tapping her fingers to the rhythm against the wheel.

Buffy mimes drum-rolling, tapping Marty’s shoulder for the last note. Marty loses himself to a fit of cackles. At this point, the whole van is in stitches, struggling to keep up the suave, dreamy facade.

During the last chorus, Jonah rolls down the window, sticking his head out, gasping for air between the onslaughts of laughter. His chestnut hair blows madly in the wind, but he’s completely unfazed by the sharp pieces pricking his eyes as his friends scream maniacally with him.

Andi’s still insanely hysterical as she rolls down the window, turning her head to face Jonah. He smiles wide - so, so wide - at Andi, and she melts, helpless to the deep sage, green eyes as the sun hits his face perfectly, making them twinkle.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Jonah giggles when the song arrives at an interlude.

Andi sighs dreamily. “Hey.”

“Hi,” is all Jonah responds with. Her glossy locks lift, flow in the wind, and all he can do is stare at her, a luminous glow of happiness radiating for miles, before shoving his arms through the window and letting them wave in the wind.

Andi grins before sticking an arm out her own window, palm up, and leaning her head against the leather.

As the van flies seventy-five miles an hour, Andi doesn’t see the inadvertent glances from the girl beside her.

“Are we there yet?” Cyrus calls out from the trunk, not at all dismayed by the last hundred declines.

“Cyrus, we’ve still got forty minutes to go, babe.” Andi reads off the GPS system.

“Urrghghhh.”

TJ chuckles, bumping his leg lightly against Cyrus’. “Chill out there, Muffin. Just forty minutes.”

“But my back!” Cyrus cries. “You know, they say pain lets you know you’re alive. I feel so, so, so alive right now.”

“You need some Icy Hot, grandpa?” Buffy simpers.

“Hardy-har-har.” Cyrus deadpans. He tries to get comfortable in the compact space, but he’s struggling. His back really does ache, and his head is thumping so loudly, and there’s some bile scratching at his throat (Cyrus’ motion sickness isn’t really helping the situation).

“Psst. Muffin.” TJ whispers conspiratorially at Cyrus. His voice is so low Cyrus barely hears him even in the tight space of the trunk.

Cyrus hums noncommittally, looking up from where he was toying with the hem of his khakis. TJ has a green square on his palm that he’s not exactly sure what it is.

“Motion sickness strips.”

“You get motion sickness, too?”

TJ shakes with fond laughter. “No, I don’t, but I’ve been in the same car with you before. I know how you get.”

“Oh.” Cyrus holds his palm out cautiously, and TJ drops the square into his hand. Cyrus immediately stuffs a strip into his mouth, focusing on how it dissolves on his tongue rather than the bumpy, jarring road they’re driving on. When he swallows the liquidated form of the strip, he looks back up at TJ who smiles softly at him. Then TJ pats his stomach and winks at him.

“Fair use.”

“You sure?” Cyrus asks, eyes wide and imploring, a little worried about how inconvenient it seems.

“If it’s gonna get you to stop talking about your back, I’d offer my whole body.” TJ laughs.

“That’s what she said.” Jonah exclaims, and TJ reaches up to shove his head, but Jonah’s already deflecting it with his own hand, apparently well-versed in the element of surprise.

TJ looks at Cyrus with a wide grin. “So…what do ya say?”

Cyrus purses his lips, gnawing at the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, sure.”

TJ dramatically pumps a fist into the air then angles himself a little, resting his head on the trunk lid. Cyrus breathes. In and out. Then he turns himself around, scooting closer until he feels TJ’s thighs around his hips. He props his elbow awkwardly on the carpeted floor before carefully dropping his full weight onto TJ’s chest. The sudden contact makes his heart thunder just a little too loud. He fears the other boy might hear it and question him until he brings himself back to reality and only hears the gentle music playing over the speakers.

“You okay there?”

“Yeah. M’ good.” Cyrus nestles further into TJ until he finds a comfortable position. A few moments later, he feels a set of arms wrap around his waist. He looks up over his shoulder to see TJ gazing at his hands, and he quickly shifts his eyes over to Cyrus when he realizes he’s looking at him.

“Is-. Is that okay?” TJ prompts softly after a moment.

You know that you should be my boy

Cyrus simply watches him for a second, the messy spread of his hair - a vast difference to his signature slicked-back quiff, the way his cheeks are just a tiny bit tinged with a baby pink, the ebony of his lashes. He nods. “More than okay.”

In the heat of the summer 
You're so different from the rest

“Okay.” TJ smiles giddily, and Cyrus lets out a giggle before turning his head back to a comfortable position, already beginning to doze off.

You know, you know, you know

Both of them are too focused on their bodies melting into one to notice Buffy recording the whole thing with Cyrus’ video camera.

Sometimes the beach can become a powerful force, waves roaring as it collides with the shoreline. The wind can be harshly blowing, the feeling of the frozen air a stuck thought. But other times, like a day like this, it feels serene. The weather at the right balance of hot and cold. Birds cawing in the distance as the people run blissfully around, leaving footprints for the waves to eventually efface the marks.

And that’s exactly what it feels like to Buffy, watching her friends chatter, as the water comes and goes up to her ankles. Sometimes she thinks she can build a life-sized sand castle and be protected by the earth and the moon and just stay there forever. Until then, she remains here, breathing deeply of ocean carried air, listening to the percussion of waves echoing a lullaby.

“Buffy!” Andi cries. “Come onnnnn!”

Buffy chuckles, tucking a strand of chocolate hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her hair. “Just a sec, Andi. The beach isn’t going to leave anytime soon.”

“But the water’s so warm, Buff. You gotta come in. It’s just calling your name!” Andi jumps excitedly as she splashes Amber with the water surrounding every inch of her waist down.

“Alright, alright! I’m coming.” She immediately condemns her diction when she hears…

“That’s what she said!” and “Pause!”

Andi huffs in annoyance, but her eyes crinkle in amusement. “Well played, King Kip.”

TJ nods haughtily, lips tugged upwards. “I’m just an average citizen like you—not a hero. I merely fight for me and the people’s rights.”

“What a colossal idiot.” Amber laughs hysterically, bending forward with her hands on her knees.

Andi lets out a clap of laughter before turning back to TJ. “Get in the water, TJ! It’s super nice and warm.”

Buffy bumps her shoulder against Andi’s, “The water’s actually kinda really cold, but I’m not gonna say anything, because I wanna see TJ suffer.”

Amber glances somberly at Buffy. “You get me.”

“But I wanna spend some quality time with my man, Andi! Are you really gonna take that away from a humble farmer?” TJ cries indignantly from where he’s kneeling on the sand beside the rest of the group, and Andi rolls her eyes at him.

“Chicken.” Marty coughs into his elbow, and TJ jumps at the insinuation, hand flayed over his chest dramatically.

“Chicken I am not!”

“Then get in the water, Yoda.” Jonah suddenly speaks up, but he refuses to move himself. He’s found the perfect sunbathing spot and no one can take that away from him.

“Fine. Jeez. Maybe I will!” TJ hops up from his spot, brushing the sand off his shorts.

“Gasp! Ladies and gentlemen, he’s up and at em’!” Marty shouts in a sportscaster voice, his hands cupped around his mouth.

“You know what, just for that, you’ve,” TJ points distinctly at Marty, “gotta come with me.”

“Aw, buddy - you know I could,” Marty shrugs indifferently. “I just don’t want to.”

TJ scoffs, crossing his arms and tsking. “I’ll remember this moment the next time you ask me if you wanna start a band.” He sticks his tongue out, and Marty returns the gesture.

“Come on, Martini! You’re missing out on some quality fun.” Buffy teases, and Marty’s knees weaken a bit.

“Sure, I’ll be there in a sec, Buffy.” He gazes in awe as she laughs, turning her attention back to the girls, twirling as the water whirls in pools around her.

“Ya ask a dude out, and he politely shoots you down, but he’s all over the next girl who comes along. Heavy.” Marty snickers, kicking at TJ’s shins. Dramatizing mild things is what TJ lives and breathes for so he doubles over, clutching his leg. “Oh-ah, shit, my dudes. I don’t know how much longer I’ve got left in me. Phone 911! Call for help! Get an AED!”

“He’ll live.” Cyrus grumbles, downing another packet of M&M’s he had scoped out from the food basket.

“And Nurse Goodman has spoken!” He gropes for Cyrus’ arm is his current position of lying sideways, one hand propped up on his waist. “Will ya be a sugar and get me some puttin’ dear?”

“Sure. Anything for charity.” He reaches for a Gatorade in the onslaught of beverages, tossing it haphazardly towards the other boy. TJ catches it swiftly anyways.

After taking a sip, he nods towards Cyrus, “You going out there, too, Underdog?”

Cyrus huffs, looking out at the horizon. As much as he wants to have fun with the rest of his friends, he’s wary about getting soaked to the bone then having to trudge in sand after. It’s a filthy experience, and he really does not want to go through that right now. “Maybe later, Teej.”

TJ nods understandingly, not pressing for more. He rounds on Jonah. “Beck?”

“Perfectly happy. Thanks for asking.”

“Alright then, I guess I’ll see you two on the other side.” TJ stands up and shucks his shirt off without a warning, throwing it at Cyrus’ face.

“Was that really necessary?” Marty groans. Cyrus sputters and peels the sticky shirt off his face.

“It is what it is.”

“Definitely was not, you hooligan.” Jonah snorts loudly at this, raising his hand up which Marty immediately jumps on.

TJ doesn’t hear them though, because he’s sprinting, already halfway, to the ocean. And against his better judgement, Cyrus can’t help but think of how tan and toned his back looks from all the way here. He’s never really explicitly seen TJ’s bare back other than glimpses in the school boy’s locker room or the infinite amount of times the boy had stained his shirt and needed to borrow one of Cyrus’ shirts. Even then, though, he’s always felt an immediate pit of guilt unfurl in his stomach, so he never looked for more than two seconds tops. But now here he is, staring unashamedly as his best friend fucking runs into the ocean like a main character from Baywatch. It’s fine, it’s all good, he tells himself. Just admiring another fellow dude’s strapping torso. Cyrus is fine.

He gulps down the rest of his water in high hopes that the cold beverage will cool him down. But then he glances towards the only other boy remaining and realizes with a quiet, shaky breath that he’s left all alone with Jonah Beck.

This fantastic turn of events could only occur while he's hiding a halfy and completely unable to enjoy the experience.

“Hey, Jonah?” He croaks. Jonah turns his head the tiniest bit to face him, and Cyrus meekly puts forth the bag he’s holding. “Want some peanuts?”

Jonah sits up, scanning the contents of the trail mix he’s holding. “Not the M&M’s?” He smiles innocently up at Cyrus, batting his eyelashes.

Cyrus fumbles and glances quickly between the snack and Jonah. “Well, uh, my favorite is the M&M’s but I guess you…could have a little?”

“Thanks, Cy-guy! You’re awesome, dude.” Jonah smiles earnestly as he sifts through the bag, picking out the M&Ms. Cyrus hums politely even though he feels his heart break as Jonah takes an orange M&M. His smile broadens when he looks up at Cyrus. “Thanks again, Cy.”

“Yup. No problem.” Cyrus stresses, dragging out each word.

“At home, we never get to have these kinds of things anymore. My parents cut off sweet things, only buying the necessities—that kinda jazz. So…we eat healthy, and I guess it’s definitely better than not having any food, but…it’s just nice to have some good things every once in a while, y’know?” Jonah says, eyes wide and beguiling.

“Yeah…I-I understand.” He feels embarrassed after being so territorial of his M&M’s now.

Jonah shakes away his thoughts with a laugh. “Anyways, you can go with the rest of them, if you want.” He nods towards the beach. “I don’t mind. You don’t have to stay with me.”

“Oh, well.” He trails off, gnawing at the inside of his cheek. “It’s just that it gets kinda dirty when you go from the water to the sand, so I don’t really feel like going in.”

Jonah smiles, soft and lovely. “I know what you mean. It’s a little bit of the reason why I don’t want to go out there just yet. Sun feels nice though, doesn’t it?”

Cyrus returns the smile, albeit a little shakily, and wonders, distantly, if there is any parallel universe out there where Jonah could ever possibly like him back the way Cyrus wants. In this universe, though, he breathes, “Yeah. It does.”

The rest of the group returns about half an hour later, already drained from the couple rounds of Chicken and wading in the cold waters. They return to the blanket and food to find Jonah passed out underneath a towel and Cyrus munching on the dozens of snacks and listening to music, much like how they had left the latter boy earlier.

“Is he…okay?” Buffy points to Jonah, grimacing.

“Been sleeping for like twenty minutes. His ability to sleep anywhere is actually kind of amazing.” Cyrus says, impressed.

“How fascinating.” Andi nods, sounding just as impressed as Cyrus.

“Hey, Muffin. How ya been chillin’?” TJ grins, leaping forward to  lie next to Cyrus. Droplets of water fall onto Cyrus.

“Great,” is all Cyrus responds, mopping the water that’s running on his skin with a nearby towel.

“Nice nose.”

Cyrus touches the side of his nose, finding only the thick coating of sunscreen he had just recently applied. “What about it?”

“Nothin,’ TJ simpers. “You’re just cute.” Cyrus shoves TJ away with a huff and a poorly concealed smile. TJ’s jokes just always get him laughing in an instant.

TJ chuckles, enticed entirely by Cyrus. However, his span of attention can only handle so much, so his eyes shift around, latching on to the snack Cyrus is holding in his hand, face instantly beaming. “Can I have some?”

Cyrus shrugs indifferently, sighing. “M&Ms?”

TJ grins youthfully and shakes his head, sending more droplets cascading everywhere. “You can have that all to yourself, Little Muffin. I’ll just take the peanuts, if your highness doesn’t mind.”

Cyrus can’t help it. His eyes crinkle and he grins like sunshine. “Why of course you can. Help yourself to these delicious and juicy nuts.” TJ sniggers, falling forward, and Cyrus is laughing equally as hard, in a way that he does when he’s in on an inside joke. It’s the kind of laughter that occurs in a place where you know you shouldn’t be laughing, like at synagogue or during a test. But you’re so caught up in the moment and on not laughing that the whole situation just becomes even more hilarious. In a way, most times this kind of laughter happens is when he’s with TJ.

Buffy, Marty, and Andi all glance up at each other at the same time, sharing knowing looks.

“Can we go to Seazona? I’m actually really hungry and could go for a burger right now.” Andi admits, shivering just a tad as she pulls her towel around her closer.

“We go to diners all the time in Shadyside. Don’t you get tired of them?” Buffy wonders. Without missing a beat, Andi and Buffy stare at each other dully before bursting into unmitigated laughter. “God, of course not. So silly.” Andi shakes her head blissfully.

“Yeah, I’m down for a good burger, too. I’m in.” Marty agrees, plopping down, presumably getting sand all over him.

“Yay! We just gotta pack these things up, then we’ll be on our way to the boardwalk.” Andi gestures to the wrappers and empty bottles strewn around the blanket before her eyes land on Jonah, still snoring up a storm. “Well, after we wake up Beckocious over here.”

Pain is relative, people say. There’s a theory on pain called the Gate Control Theory. Apparently, what happens is the spinal cord contains a neurological “gate” that either blocks pain signals or allows them to continue onto the brain. Our thoughts and emotions influence pain perception.

Andi thinks that’s all bullshit as she’s one-hundred percent sure her inhibitory neuron hates her, because she has never felt pain like this before.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Andi trails off and clutches her foot to her chest.

“Shit, Ands. Are you okay?” Buffy asks, voice strained as her hands flutter to her shoulders, her hair, anything to try to calm her down.

Through gasps for breath, she brushes the glass caught in her foot, and she yelps, covering her mouth with her hand to stifle the noise. Should not have done that.

“Andi, are you okay? Are you alright?” Amber steps frantically towards Andi, wincing when she sees a gush of blood flowing from the wound.

“It hurts, Amber—shit! It hurts so bad. Why does it hurt so bad?” Andi cries, breathing hard. She buries her face into her shoulder in a fool’s attempt to hide the pain.

“Shh, shh, darling. It’s okay. I know, I know. We’ll get it out soon, love.” Amber coos, hugging the other girl to her chest.

“I-I brought a med kit. It’s in the van, though. I didn’t think we’d need it. I’m sorry, I-I should’ve-” Cyrus’s voice subsides, and TJ absently pats his shoulder reassuringly.

“It’s okay, we just-we need to get to it now.” Amber orders. She averts her attention back to Andi when she cries out again. “Oh, Bambi, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Amber cradles Andi to her chest, the latter burying her face in the crook of her neck, and hugs her gingerly. Andi curls a fist around Amber’s sweatshirt, letting out an unsteady breath as the tears continue to flow. Amber hugs her tighter when she hears a small whimper.

“Should we bring her to the van or get it and come back here?” Cyrus rushes through his words. Amber rakes the group’s expressions for a response, but when she finds no answer between them, she turns to the girl in her arms.

“Hey, Bambi, do you want to go to the car and get you all fixed up there or stay here and bring the stuff to you?” Amber smooths her voice. She brushes away the wet strands on Andi’s forehead to plant a quick kiss before wrapping her arm around Andi again.

“Want to go, p-please,” Andi mumbles into her neck.

“I can take her.” Jonah volunteers, raising his hand. “My cousin stepped in glass one time, and I saw my dad take care of him. I know what to do.” His voice wavers with anxiety.

“Yeah, okay.” Amber nods. “Bambi, Jonah’s gonna take you to the car. He’ll take it out, okay? You’ll be as good as new.” Andi whimpers. Amber waves Jonah over, and she helps Andi up, transferring her to Jonah.

Amber watches as Jonah and Andi become smaller and smaller as they walk slowly across the boardwalk, Andi limping with her arm locked around Jonah’s neck.

“Amber, that was amazing! Who knew you’d take care of us like that if one of us was hurt?” Cyrus marvels, mouth gaping open, as he tries to process what had just happened.

Amber swallows the lump in her throat and wipes away a tear that she wasn’t even aware had fallen. “Yeah. Who knew.”

“And there we go. You’re all done!” Jonah beams enthusiastically at Andi, and she giggles sheepishly, eyes cast to the ground in fear of Jonah seeing the tears persisting to fall.

“Sorry I freaked out like that.” Andi says in a soft whisper. “It just…really hurt. I don’t even know.”

“Hey, look at me.” Jonah snags a finger under her chin, pulling her gaze to him. “You don’t have to apologize for feeling hurt. Around the house, I’ve seen it all. I’ve seen my little cousin get hurt. She cried. I’ve seen my aunt get hurt, and she cried, too. To hurt is human nature.”

“Then why do I feel terrible?”

“Because…we’re expected to hide it, I guess. No one’s immune to social expectations.” Andi nods thoughtfully.

“How’s Rowan?” She asks, hoping her voice sounds casual enough. It works though as the question eases the air around them.

Jonah’s face brightens. “Adorable as always. She just recently learned how to draw people—well stick figures, but they turn out so good all the same. She drew a picture of me, and-oh! I have a video!” He whips out his phone from his pocket excitedly, and Andi just smiles at him. She’s face level with Jonah, giving a clear view of his face. It’s maybe the closest she’s ever been to Jonah.

“Found it. Here she is and-aww!” Jonah’s eyes twinkle, dimples appearing prominently on his face, as he presses play on the video.

The video starts with Rowan amidst a fit of giggles.

“Who did you draw again, Row?” The Jonah in the video asks.

“I juss told you, siwwy! It’s you!” Rowan grins, a front tooth missing. She’s proudly holding the drawing in front of her, and Andi smiles sweetly at the little girl’s drawing.

“Is it really? Oh, I’m so honored! Think I should hang it up on my wall?” Rowan nods vigorously, eyes wide as saucers.

“Yes, pwease! Mommy will be so pwoud of me.” Rowan bounces excitedly.

“It looks amazing, Row. How much money do you think I can make from selling a Rowan O’Donnell original?”

Rowan hums, pretending to think it over. “A bajillion!” She cries, the grin a permanent fixture on her face.

“Alright, Row, you said it! We’re selling this baby on E-bay for a bajillion dollars!” The four-year-old squeals with laughter, and the video cuts off there.

“She’s adorable.” Andi crows, staring at the paused image of Rowan on his phone.

“I know. I guess there’s some good that comes with living with your cousins. I get to see this little rascal every day.” Jonah laughs, shaking his head fondly.

“You’re always so positive. S’ one of the things I admire about you.” Andi gazes up at him, sincere in every word she says.

Jonah’s laughter dwindles, and he’s staring at her staring at him. He moves his head closer to Andi. She sits frozen in the trunk of the van, feet bouncing restlessly against the rear. Unexpectedly, his hand drifts to her hip, settling there and erupting a liter of butterflies in her stomach.

“Can I?” Jonah asks tentatively. Andi nods. He leans in closer until their noses are touching. They close their eyes. Slowly, he presses his lips to Andi’s.

It’s soft and gentle and short and maybe there’s no fireworks or sparks, but it still feels nice - it’s a wave of warmth that radiates throughout her body. It’s all she’s ever wanted. All the nights she stayed up watching those teenage rom-coms on Netflix, all the days she spent daydreaming and curating fantasies in class. Everything felt surreal.

As they part, Andi sees his eyes sparkle and lips curve up into a smile. She can’t help but smile back.

“We should get back to the others.” Andi murmurs, still a little hazy from kissing Jonah Beck.

“How are you gonna walk all the way to Seazona with your foot?” Jonah asks, thundering with laughter.

Andi grins and pats his back, deliberately slow in her actions. He groans dramatically but turns his back towards her, instantly sporting a smile. She closes her legs around his waist, wraps her arms around his neck, then jumps off the trunk.  Jonah hooks his arms under her legs and steadies them, giggling all the while.

“Onward, my fellow steed!” Andi clamors in a noble voice.

“To Narnia!” Andi squeals as Jonah starts running (sometimes twirling), as fast as he can go beneath the sandy surface.

Here’s the thing: Buffy Driscoll hates change. Hated how Andi’s mom turned out to be Andi’s grandma. Hated how at random periods of time, one or both of her parents would have to leave for random intervals of time. Hated how she moved several times before finally settling in Shadyside. Hated how there was no milk in the fridge that one day so she’d had to use water for her hot chocolate.

So when Buffy Driscoll realizes she’s falling for Marty Coleman, she hates it.

After watching the premiere of Love, Simon, it’s TJ (of course it’s TJ) who has the bright idea to “keep the party bus rolling on the freeway.” Amber had rolled her eyes and explained to the others that TJ wanted to keep hanging out.

It’s also TJ who decrees that night to be a special night. So while the rest of the gang files into Andi’s basement, TJ and Amber sneak off to their house, their stomachs flipping excitedly at the plan at hand. Amber unlocks the door, and TJ dashes straight for the cabinet he knows is just brimming with his good ol’ friend, Svedka. It’s been that way ever since their dad had bolted out of the door and out of their lives.

“TJ, did you get it?” Amber shouts from the doorway, her hand still grasping the doorknob.

“Pffft—Did I get it?” TJ calls back in a patronizing voice.

Amber rolls her eyes, pressing the free hand not on the doorknob to the bridge of her nose. “Yeah, Teej, did you?”

There’s a sound of a door slamming shut and glasses clinking against each other before TJ slides in to Amber’s view, clutching a vibrant yellow bottle in each hand. He grins up at his sister and smirks, “Yes. Yes, I did.”

Amber groans and shuts the door in his face.

“Wa-hoh, Amber! Where’d you get the booze?” Buffy raises her brows when TJ and Amber fully descend the staircase, each holding a bottle.

“If I told you…I’d have to kill you.” Amber says, staring Buffy right in the eyes. She starts laughing when Amber cracks a goofy grin. “Kidding, my mom’s just a raging alcoholic.”

“Darn.”

“Oof.”

“Works out fabulously for us though.”

Then they get to work - TJ, Amber, and Andi start setting up the cups and opening up the bottles; Cyrus and Buffy head out to the kitchen to grab the nourishments for the night; and Jonah and Marty are sat on the couch, having a heated discussion about if they would be a dragon or own a dragon.

When Cyrus pulls Buffy into the kitchen, though, Buffy does not expect the boy to turn to her, squealing with delight.

“Buff. Buffy! It is time.”  Cyrus exclaims, vigorously shaking her hand.

“Cy, what are you talking about?”

“Your moment.” Cyrus insists, nudging her shoulder, and Buffy just looks at him confusedly until she realizes what he’s implying. She rolls her eyes.

“Cyrus, nothing’s gonna happen between Marty and I tonight.”

“Do you want something to happen between you and Marty?

“No!” Buffy backs away incredulously. “Well—mayb-no! I don’t know. It’s-. It’s complicated.” Cyrus nods in understanding even though his eyes are narrowed at Buffy just enough for her to be suspicious. “So yeah. I don’t think anything will happen between us.”

“He still likes you, you know.” Cyrus murmurs gently, ensuring that no one outside of the two of them heard him.

“He doesn’t.” Buffy retorts, shaking her head as her grip on the bowl tightens just a little.

“He does. I know this because I see the same look I know I had on when I used to look at Jonah.”

She emits a small gasp of surprise. “You don’t like him like that anymore?”

A shaky, slow smile builds on his face as the shock sets in Buffy’s face. “I dunno. Just one morning, it hit me that I cared about him as much as I cared about you.” He quickly retreats when he sees Buffy squint a furious eye at him. “Not that I don’t care about you! I meant in the way I care about you. The how. I care about you two in the same way.”

Buffy’s still slightly fuming with anger and perplexity, but she breathes, “Okay. Still not really following - and I knew you first - but I’m still listening.”

“But when you’re in love with someone, it’s different. Remember that one day at the beach? I was alone with Jonah cos’ I didn’t want to get in the sand. And he fell asleep. When I was sure he was sleeping and that you guys weren’t looking, I turned around to see his face and I just...stared at him. I think that’s when I realized I love him—just wasn’t in love with him.”

“Huh.”

“That’s how I know he still likes ya, Buff.” He grins knowingly at Buffy, and she shakes with laughter, shoving him playfully for bringing the subject back up again.

“Seems like he’s over it.” Buffy leers, pouring the bag of tortilla chips into the bowl.

Cyrus glares at her in a mix of agitation and hysteria. “Without fail, every time we go out, he gets you extra napkins. Every. Single. Time.”

“Really? Name the last time he got me napkins.”

“Boardwalk. Seazona. Boom, bitch. Next.”

“He didn’t get me extra napkins!”

Cyrus gapes at her, restraining from shaking Buffy’s shoulders and shouting the truth into her ear, “Because Buff-He gets you them every time that it’s not even extra napkins to you! They’re just a normal-amount-of-napkins-for-Buffy napkins now.”

Buffy chuckles despite herself. “Alright, alright. But we better head down now before your boyfriend gets worried and calls freaking 911 with his Android.”

“Not my boyfriend.” Cyrus mutters under his breath. Buffy just snorts.

Hypocrite.

“And besides, you know what I think is super interesting?”

“What, Cyrus?”

“That you had all those excuses about not being with Marty, yet you never once said it’s because you didn’t like him.” Buffy’s jaw drops and because she doesn’t know what to say, she just strikes his shoulder with one of the tortilla bags. Cyrus winces, “Geez, don’t shoot the messenger.”

“We are never speaking of this again.” Buffy mutters mutinously, but she’s given up on making Cyrus give up. Say what you will, but that boy’s a dedicated romantic.

“Hmm?” Cyrus says, lifting the glass of coke to his mouth nonchalantly and trying to hide the grin still lurking there. “What do you mean, Buff? We’re not speaking about anything.”

Buffy groans, but she’s still bemused. “God forbid you ever fall in love. You’re definitely gonna be one of those boombox-over-your-head-at-midnight-and-love-letters-when-you’re-five-feet-apart type of partner, aren’t you?”

“Guess we’ll have to see when I do.” Cyrus winks at Buffy and tips his fedora.

It’s only ten-thirty in the evening, but they’ve already learned two things about Andi.

1. She’s a huge lightweight. Almost embarrassingly so.
2. She might love art, but art does not love her when she’s drunk.

Granted, she was still sober when she suggested Pictionary and still secure in her talents and capabilities.

“Frog!”

“Chair!”

“Baby?”

“No, no, it’s Donald Duck!”

Andi pulls the marker across the board in a reckless, hasty manner. She’s supposed to be drawing a butterfly, but a picture of a dog wearing a polo shirt passed through her brain, and now she’s not sure what she’s drawing.

“The Statue of Liberty!” She hears the many voices behind her but can’t register the different tones. None of them are saying butterfly though she just moves on to the next word.

The timer beeps, and everyone groans.

“It was a butterfly,” Andi explains, gesturing wildly to the whiteboard.

“Andi, honey, that’s not a butterfly.”

“Utterly terrible,” Buffy drones with a shake of her head.

“I mean, I kinda see it. Like, you gotta squint really hard, though.”

“Stop it, you guys. You’re being mean. Let’s just move onto the next one.” Cyrus scolds the lot of them, taking the piece of paper scribbled with butterfly on it into the ‘used’ pile.

“Ooh ooh ooh ooh, me next!” TJ cries and raises his hand speedily. Cyrus giggles into TJ’s shoulder where his face is currently buried in.

“Then TJ it is!” Andi decrees, hobbling over and passing off the marker to the restless TJ.

Marty scoffs, running a finger around the rim of the cup. “Whatever, it’s obviously nepotism. The patriarchy needs to take a good look at themselves in the mirror.”

“I second that.” Jonah cheers.

TJ digs around Cyrus’ fedora. Mouth. Okay, he can work with that. He’s seen a ton of mouths in his lifetime. Sometimes, even more than seen, if you know what he means. Wink-nudge. He squeezes the marker then starts drawing.

“Football!”

“Ship. Boat thing.”

“Golden Gate Bridge!”

“Mouth?” TJ whips around and points nowhere in particular. Amber jumps excitedly in her seat and pumps a fist into the air.

“Call me crazy, but the power of telepathy is strong with these two.”

“Yeah? So is the power of dumbassery.” Buffy retorts as the two siblings recreate a damn near perfect rendition of The Parent Trap handshake.

“Amazing.” Andi shakes her head in wonder, thoroughly impressed at their hand-eye coordination and elegance.

“Wakey-Wakey Time, come on,” TJ wakes Jonah with a sloppy, wet kiss to his forehead and skips away, giggling maniacally, when Jonah wakes cursing and wiping TJ’s spit off his face.

“Hey, empty bottle, y’all. Anybody thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Spi-“ Marty slaps his hand over TJ’s mouth in an instant.

“If you say Spin The Bottle, I will legit suplex you.” Marty deadpans, and Cyrus giggles.

TJ nods, and Marty releases him, but it’s out of his grasp to not lick his palm before he does.

“I hate you a lot.”

“I know you do, Martini!” TJ skips off to plop himself down into the beanie bag in the center of the room.

“Kippen’s idea isn’t too bad, I think.” Jonah grumbles as he stretches his body awake.

“Yeah, what the heck? Count me in, too.” Amber concedes.

“I’m in too, I guess.” Andi pipes up from where she’s sprawled across the sofa - head resting comfortably on Amber’s leg and legs dangling across Jonah’s.

Cyrus flushes crimson at the growing approval of the certain game. TJ knocks his head into Cyrus’ shoulder clumsily, and Cyrus jumps.

“You okay, Muffin?” Cyrus laughs quietly when TJ continuously knocks his head into Cyrus’ shoulder. He grins, because that’s his automatic response to all things TJ, and just nods. TJ beams at him.

“Who wants to go first, friends?” Amber calls out to the group, cradling an empty Svedka bottle in her hand with another hand directly beneath it, as if showcasing an award.

“Ladies first.” TJ crows from where he’s situating himself into the ‘circle’ the group has made. Amber gives a somewhat modified curtsy while sat down and moves towards the bottle before TJ yells, “Wait, okay, rules for if the bottle keeps landing on the same person, then it goes lips, tongue, then…whatever happens, happens. Except for Amber and I, for obvious reasons, I feel like. We can just, like, high five, I guess.”

Amber rolls her eyes. “Whatever, sure - let me spin the fuckin’ thing…” And so with a flick of her wrist, the bottle twirls at the center of the circle 3 times. Eventually, it loses momentum and comes to a stop with the neck pointing directly at Marty. Amber grins. “Let’s go, pretty boy,” She flings herself into Marty’s arms, both of them laughing. Marty plants a single quick kiss on her smiling lips, and they move back to their respective spots.

“Gross!” TJ groans, shielding his eyes with his hands.

“Bite me.” Amber counters, and they’re all immediately reminded of the fact that their two lovely friends are siblings.

“Okay, alright, calm down. S’ my turn.” Marty announces with a chuckle. He scoops the bottle into his hand then spins it sharply. It lands on Jonah. Marty laughs with delight, “The Jonah Beck? Why, I would love to.”

Jonah flushes from both the sentiment and the alcohol coursing through his veins. He crawls over to the other side of the circle so Marty can place his hand on Jonah’s shoulder and kiss him chastely. Somebody (most probably TJ) wolf-whistles as they separate and Jonah’s cheeks redden as he takes the bottle from Marty.

“Some real good dude-on-dude friendship action happening, pals. Lovin’ it, keep it up, fellas.” TJ claps, and Cyrus punches his shoulder, laughing as he swallows the nerves bundled in his stomach.

Jonah snickers as he gives the bottle a whirl, spinning around for a full three rounds before landing on Andi. He smiles up at her, a warm, comfortable smile. And when he presses his lips to hers, that’s how it also feels. A steady, feeling of security encircling the two of them. He pulls away, flashing another winning Jonah Beck smile, and she smiles back.

“Aww, y’all are just about the cutest.” TJ coos, and Andi flips him off. Jonah laughs halfheartedly.

Andi retreats to her spot and winds up the bottle. It lands on TJ, and the both of them cackle.

“Oh me, oh my, you choose frail ol’ me?” TJ says, fanning his face that’s ready to break into a grin.

“C’mere big shot.” Andi beckons him from across the circle, and it’s all goofy grins when TJ slinks himself towards the center of the circle, Andi meeting him halfway.

When they kiss, it’s a different feeling for the both of them. For Andi, it’s hiding under the covers and laughing until her ribs hurt. It feels carefree and safe at the same time. For TJ, it’s the beginning of a distant acceptance to who he is. Just another error that tells him he’s different than the others. But it’s also a silent, mutual agreement that they really do care about each other.

TJ breathes, running a hand through his mess of hair, before taking the bottle into his hands. He doesn’t think about how he sighs in relief when the bottle lands on Marty. He doesn’t think about how he likes it better than with Andi or that one sloppy kiss he had playing 7 Minutes In Heaven with Rachel Freshman year. Doesn’t think about how none of them still have yet to compare to the apprehensive boy sitting next to him.

“Not bad, Teej. Reminds me of a SoulCycle class. Not sure why. Just does.” Marty shrugs as they return to their spots.

“Is that a compliment from the man? The myth?-“

“The legend?” Marty finishes for him and sends a wink his way to which TJ immediately makes a to-do about falling backwards and fainting. Marty chuckles amusedly, and his laughs are caught in his throat when the bottle lands on Buffy. Shit, Marty thinks. He feels his chest tighten and his breathing stutter sporadically and he wonders briefly if this is how Jonah feels when he has a panic attack. He glances to where Buffy is sitting, two people away. He catches her eye, and in them, he sees something, some soft, quiet reassurance, a silent it’s okay. Marty breathes deeply, crawls closer to Buffy’s space,

(fuck it)

and kisses her.

Buffy jolts silently, rigid against the boy, until her hand rests on Marty’s shoulder hesitantly, her eyes fluttering shut as she leans into the kiss.

The boy thinks back to his first experience in heartbreak with, coincidentally, the girl he’s kissing right now. He had avoided her for the longest time afterwards, masquerading them as if they weren’t there, as if everything he didn’t say wasn’t clawing at his throat every time he caught a glimpse of her. Right now, in the heat of the moment, it feels too easy for Marty to pretend they’re something more, that him moving further into Buffy’s space and drawing his hand to her waist and Buffy leaning into the boy’s touch means something to Buffy. In that suspended moment, he realizes that the only thing worse than the overwhelming desire for something, is knowing you can never have it.

Buffy doesn’t understand anything. All she can register over the tingly feeling in her stomach is the soft press of Marty’s lips against hers. Her thoughts are running rampant, and the only one she can latch on to is - why does it feel so easy to break this unspoken barrier between the two of them? She’s not sure. All she’s sure of is that she wouldn’t mind if they stayed like this a little longer.

They break away after a few moments, both panting for air, eyes looking everywhere but at each other. When Buffy shakily returns to her seat with the bottle in hand, TJ is smirking at her.

“Damn, Buff. You okay? You’re looking a little red-“

“Shut it, Kippen.” Buffy instantly says before placing the bottle down in the center and spinning it. She ignores the muffled cackles shared between TJ and Cyrus and watches the bottle intently as it rounds the circle. It lands on Andi.

“Oh, Buffy, you shouldn’t have!” Andi grins dopily.

“Just give me a kiss and get it over with, Ands.” Buffy quips as she dissolves into laughter.

“Wow, you really know how to make a lady swoon, Driscoll.” Andi teases, voice pitched high, and she all but leaps into Buffy’s lap, flinging her arms around her and kissing her messily. Both of them are laughing through it all until their lips break away, unable to keep them together with their smiles so wide.

“Beautiful, magnificent, show-stopping, spectacular…” Andi sighs dreamily until Buffy pushes her off with a laugh. “Should’ve known it was a one-night stand. Too good to be true.” Andi shakes her head as she crawls back to her spot.

Amber smiles at the casual, eased atmosphere between the two of them, and she aches for the day she can laugh and make a joke about this kind of stuff with her. She might never be able to be with Andi - but she sure as hell is going to be the friend who sticks with her through thick and thin. She’s still listing things she wants to do with Andi in the future when the bottle comes to a screeching halt pointing straight at Amber. And, oh, she realizes with a heavy feeling, she’s about to do one of those things. Amber freezes as she watches Andi close the distance between them, sitting cross-legged in front of her.

“Hey, Bambi.” Andi murmurs breezily, eyes twinkling in the dim light.

“Hi,” She says with a tiny hiccup of laughter as she recalls the time at the boardwalk when the name had slipped out against her accords. Amber’s still not sure what came over her at the boardwalk but she knows

(such a beautiful and formidable thing)

that at the very least, it had something to do with seeing someone whom she harbors strong feelings for in pain.

“Are you gonna kiss me, Kippen, or what?” Andi jests, and Amber’s cheeks flush. She stares at her as she’s leaning against the wall, the air palpable between them. Like if she reached her hand out, she could grab a handful and stuff it into her pocket. She laughs, but it comes out more as a throaty chuckle.

“Yeah, just give me a sec.” Amber mutters as she leans in, pressing her forehead against Andi’s, tilting her head a little, and just breathing in the air. Like the snap of a twig, it happens fast - Amber’s lips captures hers, and Andi immediately reacts, leaning further into Amber’s space. It feels like a breath of fresh air even though neither of them can breathe with their lips pressed against each other. It’s tentative and sweet, and Andi’s so, so confused. It’s not like the kiss with Buffy, playful and platonic, but it’s also not like kisses with Jonah, warm and comfortable. This is something Andi’s not sure she’s ever experienced. Some sort of a fervid feeling, an unspoken energy. She doesn’t exactly want to ruin the moment by asking Amber what the fuck, so she shuts out all the violent thoughts and tilts her head just a little further to the right and kisses with a sudden fervent urge, earning an audible gasp from Amber.

“Well, fuck.” Cyrus blurts, then hiccups. Amber pulls away sharply, the sudden awareness of something outside of Andi’s mouth like a rush of adrenaline, making Amber wrench herself back just the slightest bit. Andi’s head is still pounding when she slowly backs away, an ephemeral rush of emptiness clouding her lips.

A pause of silence echoes around the room as Amber wordlessly spins the bottle. Her head races as she stares at the bottle go round and round, not once daring to look up at any of the prying eyes. When it comes to rest, only then does she look up to see her brother.

“Ayyy, show me some skin, sister dear.” TJ cackles into the noiseless air as he holds out his hand out for a high-five, and Amber chuckles a little as she claps her hand against his. “Now, we’re cooking with fire!” TJ exclaims as he moves forward towards the bottle, heedless to a highly strung Cyrus.

See, ever since TJ kissed him at the park, he’s been feeling a little mixed up. It’s not his fault, okay? The dude offered to kiss him, and that meant everything to Cyrus. Unsure of the other boy’s sexuality, he’s resigned to thinking that TJ’s just a really good friend. Sometimes, it feels all too real when TJ tells him how cute he is every day or writes him one-liners on the desk they share in History that never fail to make him laugh or when he touches him and it burns. It’s no secret that TJ’s an affectionate boy — if he’s  within a five foot radius of you, you bet you’ll have a piece of the TJ Love Cuddle Tour.

So yeah, maybe he has a tiny itty-bitty crush on his best friend. But he’s not gonna do anything. The relationship they have right now - it’s too valuable. He doesn’t want to lose it over some dumb crush that’ll probably go away within no time. He doesn’t wanna lose TJ. He can’t afford to lose TJ.

The bottle rests on him, like a shotgun cocked - it holds the same amount of fire. Cyrus tries to act surprised, really, he does, but in all his sixteen years of life, the universe has tested him, and he knows damn well they’re not about to stop now.

Just a friend, just a friend, just a straight friend, Cyrus reminds as he gears himself. You can do it.

“Hey, Muffin.” TJ says casually as if they were just on their way to school, and Cyrus finds himself strangely comforted by the ease he seems to radiate effortlessly.

“Hey, Teej.” It comes out weak and half-hearted.

“While we’re young, boys!” Andi crows, and the rest of the group dissolves into laughter.

TJ doesn’t, though. He’s looking at him without any clear emotions Cyrus can decipher, just an intense stare. Cyrus knows he looks the same - just a little more jittery, maybe.

He’s fully aware that he’s not essentially outing himself by kissing another boy in Spin The Bottle. Heck, he just witnessed all the boys in the group swap spit, and no one’s accused them of being gay. He feels a little bit ridiculous. He’s out to pretty much half the group, yet he can still see the void and hear the voice telling him wrongwrongwrong. Maybe he should put more trust into his friends - don’t get him wrong, he’d take a bullet for his friends anytime, anywhere - but there’s just some things that take time to admit consciously.

“Cy.” TJ murmurs lowly, breaking him out of his thoughts. He realizes with shock that the room’s still loud with laughter and no one’s scrutinizing his internal thoughts. “Just us, okay?” There’s no amusement scrawled on his face or the sign of a tell-tale smirk. He’s gazing into Cyrus’ eyes with such genuineness and honesty that Cyrus just nods, words caught in the stalagmites of his chest. There’s a hint of a smile on TJ’s face as he leans closer into Cyrus’ space. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers.

“Yeah.” Cyrus says breathlessly, then immediately coughs, because wow Cyrus, be cool. TJ’s still staring at him with the same look he’s had on the past few minutes until he closes his eyes and - wow when did he get so close - caresses Cyrus’ nose with his. Their breaths are inevitably mixing at this point, reeking of flavored vodka, but Cyrus can’t smell at this point. He can only feel.

TJ closes the distance bit by bit - their foreheads resting together, then their lips brushing just the tiniest bit before colliding into each other.

Off the bat, it feels different from their first kiss at the park. In the park, it had been like a whole different universe. Everything had felt insulated and placid. It felt untouchable. Now, in Andi’s basement, as TJ moves his lips earnestly against Cyrus’, it feels like a free trial with an expedited expiration date. He can pretend like he’s kissing TJ because TJ wants him to and that there’s no alcohol inhibiting sober thoughts and that he’s out to all his friends and happy. But sooner or later, the whole gag will fall to a devastating crash, and he’ll realize that nothing ever works out for him like that. And so in an attempt to hold on just a little bit longer, he curls his fist around TJ’s shirt, relaxes into his touch, and lets his parted lips take control of his body.

They finally pull away after it feels like it’s been more than an appropriate time for two boys in a game of Spin The Bottle and just look at each other. At least a hundred years pass, or some other quantifiable but simultaneously infinite amount of time, and then a hint of a smile appears on TJ’s face, a tiny quirk of his lips. “You taste like mango.”

Cyrus giggles lightly into his hand, the alcohol rushing through him making him especially giddy. “Do I really?”

TJ shrugs, clearing his throat. “Y-Yeah, probably from the vodka flavor. S’ different. Not bad, though.”

“What do I usually taste like?” Cyrus asks, mouth moving faster than his brain at the moment. TJ laughs amusedly at Cyrus’ insistence and inebriation.

“I dunno - just, like, your strawberry chapstick, I guess.” Cyrus hums.

“Uhh, what?” Buffy asks. “You guys have kissed before?”

The two boys immediately turn to each other with sheer looks of panic on their face that the others would have ridiculed them for if not for the predicament. Cyrus looks away from TJ’s helpless gaze when neither of them come up with anything, and so he turns to Buffy, pulls on his most dignified face, and says, “No?”

“A-ha! So you have kissed!” Andi cries.

“What the h-I just said we didn’t.” Cyrus persists weakly.

“There was a very visible scrunching of the face, and you look like you’re about to cry every time you lie.” Andi points out.

“There was some scrunching done.” Buffy just shrugs, siding with Andi, when Cyrus looks to her for an ally.

“TJ, did you kiss Cyrus?” Marty asks in a sort of tired way, not unlike how a single mom would ask her son if he stole his sister’s favorite stuffed toy.

TJ winces at the bluntness and scans Cyrus’ face, searching for a yes or no—anything. When all he sees is plain discomfort and terror, he swallows the lump in his throat. “No, we didn’t.” He doesn’t mind when his heart falls to the pit of his stomach. Cyrus’ face filled with relief makes up for it.

Buffy squints her eyes at the both of them, but she doesn’t say anything more. Cyrus spins the bottle. With his otherworldly luck, it falls on Jonah.

“Cy-guy! Bring it on, man.” Jonah beckons him over with a face-splitting grin. Cyrus titters nervously as he clambers to the other side of the circle, feeling as if everyone is watching his every move, every emotion set on his face. He tries to make his face as straight as possible.

It feels like it’s over before it’s even begun. He would have thought that after all the days he’d hopelessly pined after the boy, that there would at least be some spark, some epiphany of pleasure. He gets nothing.

Then he’s hit by a truth. It doesn’t feel like that struck-by-lightning metaphor everyone talks about - it’s more like a slow-draining bathtub. It feels like it’s a lot, maybe even too much, but slowly over time, it disappears until you’re left sitting on the toilet, watching the last drops of water fall into oblivion. And the irrefutable truth is, nothing’s ever going to happen between them. He’s never gonna be his and vice-versa. It’s a sad revelation to deal with when drunk off his ass, but it’s the truth. It feels like the end of an era. To have felt a love so overwhelming that he fabricated this idea of Jonah in a perfect universe where they collide. That’s not reality, he realizes.

Feeling a heavy weight lift off his shoulders once and for all, he smiles up at Jonah, one of the first real, genuine smiles he’s directed at the boy, and returns to his seat, bouncing happily.

“Alright, alright, alright.” Jonah chants as he gives the bottle a twirl. He takes a quick sip of the cup in his dominant hand, and when he glances out of the rim, he sees it point to Amber.

“Jay Bear!” Amber cheers with a grin.

“Lay one on me, babe.” He opens his arms wide open with a grin, and Amber laughs as she flings her arms around her and plants a kiss on his lips before pulling away. She returns to her place, but not before pecking a chaste kiss on his cheek.

The next few rounds pass by in a dizzying whirlwind, and Buffy hasn’t found the time to solve what exactly her problems are with Marty. If she admitted there was a certain problem, that would mean only one thing, and Buffy does not want to admit that, thank you very much! She zones out for a lot of the jokes and kisses that happen next, not necessarily still caught up on the Marty thing - okay, maybe, just a little - but she looks around the room and wishes for the seven to be together. If not in the next few months when her parents decide, then maybe in ten years or less, they’ll be together - whole - again.

She’s abruptly pulled out of her jumbled thoughts when she hears someone call her name. Marty.

“S’ you ‘nd me again.” Marty giggles lightly, and Buffy has to stop herself from hugging the boy tightly and protecting him from everything.

The two of them crawl towards the center, meeting in the middle. Marty draws his hand to Buffy’s cheek, cradling it tenderly. She smiles, heart fluttering at his voice - she blames the alcohol for distorting her emotions. He kisses her, slow and soft, comforting in a way words could never be. They move against each other, every touch electrifying and sensitive, so she finds herself surprised when Marty parts his lips against hers (and even more surprised when she does the same). In seconds, the soft caress becomes more firm, fervid as they wish desperately to prolong the moment. As they pull away quickly, still wrapped up in a heady bliss, they breathe against each other until it becomes steady.

“Wowee, that was really somethin’, folks.” TJ grins easily. “Should we leave the room? I may not know what boundaries are most of the time, but I will gladly give you privacy right now.”

“Shut up, dude.” Marty laughs weakly as he knocks TJ’s baseball cap clean off, earning a groan from the boy. He glances at Buffy, and he grins when she sends him a soft smile as she gives the bottle a whirl.

Buffy smiles to herself when Cyrus is on the other end. Cyrus smiles back.

Out of everyone, Cyrus told Buffy first. He came out to her first. Buffy still holds that dear thought to her heart like fine china. She smiles the whole time as they share a gentle, simple kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck the moment it’s over. Cyrus nuzzles his head into her neck and laughs quietly as he holds her. The moment feels too precious to break.

“Aw, now I want a hug.” Jonah whines, and Amber pats his back comfortingly.

“Maybe one day you’ll find someone.” She says therapeutically. Jonah cackles from his position of laying flat on the floor (in other words, planking).

While Buffy moves back to her spot, resting her head lazily on Amber’s shoulder, Cyrus stays put and spins it. If it lands on a certain someone, he might very well faint. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until the bottle winds down to a slow stop, and for a split-second, he thinks it’ll be Andi, but the bottle shifts ever so slightly, landing on the one, the only-

“Ayye, it’s me!” TJ whoops, and Cyrus stares sullenly at the tips of his white sneakers, at the smiley face TJ had drawn on there with a permanent marker (which Cyrus immediately reprimanded him for but had no intention of throwing them in the washer). “Let’s go, Lil’ Muffin.”

Cyrus huffs, a small smile forming on his lips from the familiar nickname. He turns into TJ, his shaky hands pressed down on his thighs. This time, TJ doesn’t stare at him intently like he had the first time. Instead, he’s got a smile plastered on his face, not one out of mischief or folly, but a soft, sincere one.

“Ready?” TJ says as he turns his baseball cap backwards, and Cyrus laughs, loud and happy, at the sight of TJ wearing a hat backwards. The dork. TJ watches him and thinks to himself how much he likes seeing Cyrus laugh. He swoops forward, cupping his hand underneath Cyrus’ chin and gently, ever so gently, kisses him.

Cyrus doesn’t freeze with shock or become uncomfortably rigid - no, he leans into TJ euphorically, tilting his head, further deepening the kiss. They move in unequivocal synchrony, wandering hands latching on to the other’s clothing, pulling them further in. It’s heated, it’s intense - it makes Cyrus feel like he’s floating in an endless expanse of  bliss. He wraps his arms around TJ’s neck, the latter drawing his hands to his waist, and moves to rest on his knees. Cyrus’ whole body feels like a live wire. His heart pounds furiously inside his chest as TJ’s lips moves with his.

A slight cough behind them brought them apart and their heads around.

“Should we leave the room?” Marty snarks with a grin. The reverent mood of the room dissipates just like that.

TJ shoves Marty, laughing. “Dude, it’s just a game.”

“Yeah,” Cyrus laughs along half-heartedly. “Juss’ a game.” The pang in his chest warns him that he’s lying.

Buffy’s not an idiot. Okay, Buffy, at most times, is not an idiot. But even with her resilient, stony exterior, she’s somehow very in tune with her friends. So it’s not a surprise when she recognizes the crestfallen look on Cyrus’ face. She isn’t one to jump to conclusions, though, so she claps her hands together ear-splittingly. “I’m feeling a little drained. Can we stop the game here?” A murmur of agreements fall over the room as they withdraw from the circle and return to sprawling over the floor and sofas.

“S’ probably a good idea since it is three in the fucking morning.” TJ comments, pausing carding through the hair belonging to the boy laid across his lap. Cyrus whines at the absence of his touch, and TJ laughs fondly as he resumes to tracing figure-eights into the boy’s tousled hair. 

“Thanks.” Cyrus mumbles. TJ hums soothingly to the music playing lowly on Andi’s speakers.

I'm someone you maybe might love
I'll be your quiet afternoon crush
Be your violent overnight rush
Make you crazy over my touch

Cyrus laughs, eyes crinkling, at the song. TJ looks down at him, a puzzled expression on his face.

“What are you laughing about, Muffin?”

Cyrus shakes his head, a wide smile still playing on his lips. “No, nothing. It’s—Actually, you know what’s stup’d?”

TJ stifles a laugh as he observes Cyrus tumbling over his words, still clearly affected by the alcohol. “What?”

“That I don’t have a nickname for you! And yet, you’ve got all these amazing nicknames for me!”

“You think my nicknames are amazing?”

“Of course!” Cyrus exclaims, unaware of TJ’s starry-eyed stare as he continues to babble on. “And-and I’ve got no nicknames f’r you. Ridiculous!”

“You call me Teej sometimes.”  TJ offers.

“Everyone calls you that, though, s’ not special.” Cyrus mutters mutinously as he distractedly shifts closer into TJ.

“Well,” TJ drags out as he boops Cyrus’ nose and laughs when he giggles. “How ‘bout we go out again, and you can find a nickname for me that makes your big heart happy.”

“What’d you say about my heart, fucker?” Cyrus narrows his eyes, and TJ bursts into unprecedented laughter.

“I said you’ve got a big heart. Because you do.” Cyrus’ breathing stutters as he gazes into TJ’s eyes, unable to find it in himself to look away.

“I’ve got a big heart?”

“The biggest.”

“And you’re not just saying that cos' I’ve still got your favorite hoodie in my house and I haven’t given it back yet?"

“Nope. Such a big, big heart.” TJ’s lips curl upwards as he pokes at Cyrus’ chest after every word. “You wanted to be my friend, after all. Obviously a very big mistake on your part, but I’m not complaining.”

“Yeah.” Cyrus reminisces. “Best mistake I’ve ever made in my life.” TJ has to hold back a flood of tears after that.

“Hey,” He says, wiping at his eyes. “Would you do this again? Do you think…”

“What?” Cyrus asks softly.

“Do you think you’ll drink again? I tried to make everything as comfortable as possible for you, and-and you don’t have to if you really don’t want to-“

“Yeah. I had fun tonight,” is all Cyrus says as he closes his droopy lids shut.

“Okay…good.” TJ thinks he looks so beautiful, happier, and more loose-limbed than he’s ever seen him before tonight. He smiles helplessly at the boy as he continues to play with Cyrus’ hair, even braiding a short strand at one point.

Simultaneous and similar to this conversation, Buffy and Marty are lounging on the sofa. Marty’s head is resting on Buffy’s, and she lets out a small giggle when Marty leans into her further, tickling her neck with the spikes of his hair. 

“Stop, oh my god!” Buffy laughs when Marty repeats it again. “Keep it up, Coleman, and I will shove you off.”

“No, no! Please don’t. I’ll be good.” Marty pouts, and Buffy sighs, a smile lingering on her lips, as she curls an arm around him and pulls him in.

They don’t say anything for a while, just listening to the soft melodies and the bickers of Jonah, Amber, and Andi as they play a vicious game of Blackjack.

“Buffy?” She hums in acknowledgment. “I’m still not one-hundred percent sure why you called me. Just know I’m glad you did.”

“You are?” She hates how she sounds. Hopeful and desperate.

“Yeah.” Marty sighs into her shoulder. “M’ sorry I walked away from you. If I knew I’d never see you again until months later, I never would've.”

“Even if I said no?”

“Even if you said no.” He hooks his chin onto her shoulder, staring right into her eyes. “Especially since you said no.” He stares at her for a moment before leaning back, nuzzling into Buffy’s neck, and oh - there it is again. The feeling of electricity rushing through her veins. She doesn’t really know what to make of it.

“I’m sorry, too.” She whispers.

“S’ not your fault. Only you know how you feel.”

I know I feel something for you, she thinks. She doesn’t say it, though, as she wiggles closer to Marty. She closes her eyes, his warmth providing an indescribable amount of comfort that she lacked all her life. She holds steadfast onto Marty as her breathing slows and her mind drifts off. Before she falls into a deep slumber, she comes to a distant conclusion that she’s falling for her best friend. And she thinks it’s one of the most effortless, yet hardest things she’s ever had to do.

'Cause in my head (in my head, I do everything right)
When you call (when you call, I'll forgive and not fight)
Because ours (are the moments I play in the dark)
We were wild and fluorescent, come home to my heart