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jermanfrankmancollective · 3 years ago

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The Gang Buys an Alley House

A/n- This was written by our lovely creative team along with our friend, El! Mac is out of the closet and the Ass Pounder is a prototype, despite taking place around season 6.

Warnings: Drug use, homophobia/internalized homophobia & emetophobia.

Pairing(s): Mac / Dennis

Word Count: 10,248

Description: After Frank burns down the boat- he decides to try making up for it, by building a tiny house for the gang to relax in. It soon attracts more than what they've bargained for.

8:12 AM

On a Thursday

Philadelphia, PA

INT: Paddy’s Pub - Day

Frank enters the pub, a wild grin on his face. He spots the gang at the bar. Dennis spares a glance at him, filled with disinterest- he was still pissed about losing the boat- and goes back to cleaning a beer glass.

“I’ve got news!” Frank exclaims. Mac looks disappointed for only a split second, before Dennis- placing a hand on Mac’s shoulder- stops him from having an outburst.

Dee turns her head looking incredibly irritated at Frank’s entrance. “Ohh boy, what’s this now?”

“I’ve got somethin’ that’ll fix all this boat depression shit!” Frank pulls out a blueprint and rolls it out on the bar.

“We’re doing a colouring page?” Charlie instinctively pulls out a crayon with a bite taken out of it. Mac slaps it out of his hand across the room, which doesn’t seem to phase Charlie.

Dennis sighs, “That’s a blueprint, Charlie.”

“I was wondering why it was already coloured in…” he mutters in response.

Dennis inhales sharply and shoots Charlie a look that can only be described as utter disbelief, which quickly shifts to “I don’t even have the energy to respond to this.” He rolls his eyes, the kind that brings his whole body into motion with it.

“Right, okay, just- Frank, elaborate, will you?” Dennis gestures towards the blueprint.

“We’re building…an Alley House!”

“The hell is an ‘Alley House?’” Dennis’ voice raises. Anyone within 10 feet of him could tell he wants to go home.

“Made em all the time in ‘Nam! Exactly how it sounds. House- in an Alley!”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” Mac slams his hands against the bar, a heated glare evident on his face.

Frank waves him off, “Ya gotta trust me on this one, ‘s lotsa fun spending a week in one-a them. Besides, it’s the summer - tellin’ me you’d rather stay cooking up in the heat of your apartments?”

Charlie was already shaking his head with a fearful look.

“Ohh no, no, no, and nope. Negative, Frank. You ever seen the sort of creatures that lurk at night in the alleyways? Gargoyles, man. I’ve even seen those, like, little hairy devils that scatter on four legs. Trust me when I say this, dude, you do not wanna get into trouble with one of those.”

“Yeah, Frank,” Mac continues, adjusting his posture and furrowing his brow. “Even though I could totally fight off any monster that comes our way- I’ve been training like crazy and it shows- I’m too sore to do anything.”

“For once, I agree with Mac. I’m not risking a sunburn to do construction in an alleyway.”

“And I-“ Dee starts, but Mac puts an arm in front of her before she can voice her opinion.

“So it’s settled, then. Frank, we are not building your dumbass Alley House!”

EXT: Alley House - Afternoon

The gang is standing in front of their first ever and newly built- Alley House. They’re all covered in paint and saw dust by the end of it. Poor Charlie has the worst of it, with varying- and worrying- levels of splinters in his hands. He doesn’t pay too much mind to it, he has been working as Paddy’s resident rat basher for several years now. He’s worked up quite the callus on his fingers. The rest of the gang is visibly exhausted and dirty- except Dennis, who takes off his gloves, and then wipes off his sweatless brow.

Dennis offers a patronizing smile, “Good work.”

“Thanks, Den!” Mac smiles the sort of ignorant smile he always does. Dennis groans in response. “It is really hot out here…” Mac says, and after he knows Dennis can see him, he pulls off his grease stained tank top and not-so subtly flexes his glamour muscles. “Really a blazer today…”

Dennis looks unimpressed. Mac chooses to ignore his lack of awe, and holds his stupid grin for another pose.

“Well, out of the way, boners. Let’s take a look inside.” Dee shoves past Mac and opens the door to the newly built Alley House.

“Ooh. Lot smaller than I’d like, but uh, we’ll make do.” Dee looks around at the nearly empty interior of the Alley House.

“‘S an Alley House, Deandra! The real charm lies in the small size-a the thing - rough ‘n cozy, but not too hot either!” Frank steps in behind Dee, pushing past her to scan the interior. Charlie and Dennis filter behind.

There’s a short counter space near the entryway- perfect for setting a microwave or a portable stove down- the kind you’d use when camping. There’s room for a couch, and perhaps a pull out bed. There’s a ladder up to the loft of the Alley House. A horrifying look blooms across Frank’s face, “Aw, shit.”

There is only one bed.

Frank turns around, rubbing his hands together, a twisted smile on his face. “Ah-right, children, here’s the deal. Chawlie n’ I‘ll share a bed, Dennis n’ Mac‘ll get the otha one. Deandra, since you’re the only girl, ya get your own.” Dee’s expression lifts from disinterest to damn near glee.

“What? You’ve got to be kidding, Frank.” Dennis lets out an exasperated sigh, rubbing at his temple. “I am not sleeping with him.”

“Sleeping with who?” Mac pokes his head into the doorway of the Alley House, his eyes wide with curiosity.

Dennis hesitates, but quickly comes up with an idea; “Good news! You and Charlie are sharing this bed.”

Mac slides back into the room next to Charlie, who looks sick to his stomach. “No WAY, dude.” Charlie protests. “I did not spend an entire five minutes at the bar sink yesterday scrubbing Mac’s fleas out of my hair, just to get stuck in the same bed with him. YOU take him.”

Mac slides next to Dennis as he retaliates, and then back and forth as Charlie and Dennis argue over who gets stuck with him.

Frank turns towards Dennis, “Ah-right, you’re sleeping down here with me then.”

Dennis reels back, disgusted. “That’s it, Mac and I are sleeping in the loft!”

“Uh, yeah, okay, awesome,” Mac claps his hands together, shuffling closer to an agitated Dennis. “We’re sleeping together!”

“Don’t say it like that.” Dennis takes a step to the side, and Mac follows.

“Also, I don’t have fleas, that was one time and-“

“Yesterday?”

“Yesterday.” Mac pauses mid-sentence, glancing at the floor in shame.

“…Jesus Christ.”

INT: Range Rover/Home Store - Afternoon

On Your Bike

Frank, Dee and Charlie are all cramming themselves into Dennis’ range rover, with Dee in the driver’s seat.

“Frank, how come you got one bed, but didn’t think of where we’d get the rest of our furniture? Actually, where’d you get that bed in the first place?” Dee furrows her brows as she starts the car.

“Was unda’ the bridge. Chawlie and I carried it all the way home when we first got it from Duncan, thought it’d come in handy someday, ‘n it did!” Frank and Charlie share satisfied grins.

“Gross!” Dee looks back at the two in disgust before turning back to the road ahead. “I keep telling you not to hang out with him! It’s revolting. That mattress looks like it’s riddled with every disease on the planet!”

“You’re bein’ dramatic, Deandra. Who’s gonna let a perfectly good bed like that go to waste?”

Dee shoots Frank another look of repulsion.

“Perfectly good bed? Perfectly good bed, Frank, it looked disgusting! I am not being dramatic for questioning the hygiene behind a bed found under some bridge! Y’know what, why should I care? Those two boners are the ones stuck with it anyway- I get my own clean bed from the store.” She stretches the last words in a smug sort of sing-songy way.

They finally reach the home store with a mild amount of complaints and arguing. Now, came the real task. They only needed a few things- and then they could finally go back to Paddy’s, and chill in the Alley House.

Dee looks beside her, expecting Charlie to be there only to find Frank instead. “Goddamnit, where’d Charlie go?” She squawks.

“You tell me.” Frank mumbles, a hard boiled egg muffling his words. Where did he even find that?

Dee takes Frank’s non-eggy hand and drags him along to help her search.

Charlie has somehow found himself in one of the display rooms- one in which is set up like a bedroom, pillows strewn across the bed, a large rug in the fake room, and various other decors. He traces the pattern on a few fancy pillowcases with his grubby hands, his eyes sparkling. He traces the same pattern until his fingers are numb.

A distant noise breaks him from his trance.

“Dah-ay-loh-oo-tye…”

He quickly straightens, his neck craning to look for the source of the sound. It’s coming from the toy aisle.

He knows that voice anywhere.

Charlie dashes to the toy aisle. He pushes all the other boxes off the shelves, for there’s only one toy that noise could be coming from.

He picks up the box. He nearly tears it to shreds, focusing on the soft fur, glossy eyes, and calming aura.

Charlie has found a Furby.

“Ohhh…oh, you’re coming with me buddy,” He strokes the small tuft of hair on the small robot’s head.

“May-lah… may-may, noo-lah…”

Charlie squeezes the Furby in a tight hug. A squeal escapes his lips, and it gets louder and louder.

“Nee-may… noo-lah… day-kah-oo-nye…”

Charlie’s eyes flutter. His lip trembles. He can feel a tear fall down his face. And then he starts to giggle.

He doesn’t stop giggling.

“Sir? Are you alright?” A shorter woman, holding the hand of a young girl, reaches to touch Charlie’s shoulder.

The happy fool turns to face the mother. He pauses for a moment…a waterfall of crayon-coloured vomit comes out of his mouth, triggered by sheer joy.

“Dear lord,” the mother shouts, gripping her child’s hand tighter and running out of the aisle.

“Uh-oh…” the Furby sighs.

Another stream of bright vomit comes out as more gasps emerge from around the store.

INT: Alley House - Afternoon

Moonbeam Kiss

Mac and Dennis are standing by opposite sides of the mysteriously-stained bed. Dennis looks stiff, his jaw tensed as he looks to be lost in not-so-pleasant thought. Mac is scratching the back of his neck, his head tilted slightly downward as he shoots glances from under his lashes - from the bed to Dennis and from Dennis to the bed, waiting to see if Dennis will catch his eye. Dennis is fully aware of Mac’s idiotic glances right now, and is choosing not to look at him. Mac is convinced that Dennis simply does not see him shooting these uncomfortable looks. Little does he know, Dennis has had to master the art of vision through the corner of his eye over the years.

“So, like, how are we- how do you…?” Mac’s eyes are glossed over and he looks like a moron as he stares at Dennis, awaiting some form of guidance.

Dennis takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Mac, you know you don’t have to make things uncomfortable? You’re aware it’s not a-uh, a constant necessity? Christ, I sleep on one side of the bed, you sleep on the other. Far as possible, though. I don’t want your- your goddamn fleas, or whatever Charlie was on about you having. My God.” Dennis- for a split second- loses his focus on trying not to meet eyes with Mac. He lets out a sharp breath of annoyance as he’s forced to see the image of Mac’s stupid, almost thoughtless expression.

Dennis spins around immediately as he hears the distantly approaching bickering of what he can only assume was Frank, Dee and Charlie returning. Never in his life has he been quite this relieved to hear any of those three, but he would rather be doing literally anything besides standing in half-silence with Mac by the revolting bed for any longer.

“Ohhh, goddammit Charlie, oh my god what is wrong with you? Ohh my god, what is wrong with you!” Dee’s voice is ultrasonic with disgust and horror as she rushes through the entrance, with what looks to be the colors of the rainbow splattered on her shirt. She speeds across the Alley House to rummage through her bag in the corner.

Dennis blinks dramatically as she flies past him, pulling a sort of “what the fuck?” expression at Frank, who was walking in. A sickly pale Charlie wobbles behind him. He seems to wear the same colors Dee has on her shirt, only he was gripping what looked to be a children's toy in his arms.

“Chawlie puked at the home store.” Frank looks exhausted.

“And on the ride home! On me, goddammit!” Dee screeches.

“They just don’t understand us, Grumblepants.” Charlie hiccups. He holds ‘Grumblepants’ close; the toy was already covered in rainbow-tinted sludge but he was not letting go.

“Did you get any furniture?” Mac places his hands on his hips, softly kicking the worn mattress on the floor.

“Oh totally! Look, we brought it all here! For you! NO WE DIDN’T GET ANY FURNITURE, DUMBASS!” Dee pulls a napkin from her purse and starts wiping herself off.

“I don’t really see what the big deal is, we can always go back.” Charlie whips out a Jazzberry Jam crayon from his pocket and starts chewing on it.

“We can’t go back, Charlie, we’ve been banned for life! For! Life! You dirtied a pillowcase, destroyed a toy aisle, threw up three times, traumatized some poor kid and her mother, and are still eating crayons! Where are you even getting these? I keep taking them away from you but you seem to have an endless supply!” Dee stomps over to Charlie, yanking the slobbery colouring tool from his mouth. “You! Can't! Eat! Crayons! You moron!”

“Deandra, calm down!” Frank waves his arms. “‘S not Chawlie’s fault! The kid pukes when he gets over excited!”

“Nobody does that!” Dee drops the nasty crayon and continues wiping herself.

“Go to your room!” Frank yells. His Alley House, his rules.

“Maybe I will!” Dee storms into her tiny barren space, yanking the curtain shut.

“Man, what’s her deal,” Charlie takes a Mango Tango crayon from his jacket pocket and slowly takes a bite.

EXT: ALLEY HOUSE - EVENING

Hotsy Totsy

Mac is on his way back to the Alley House from his apartment, with Dennis straggling behind in an attempt to look inconspicuous, not wanting to be seen with Mac, because he’s carrying his Ass Pounder 1000 prototype.

“Is this really a necessary thing you have to bring with you every time we go away?”

“Yes, Dennis. I am trying to liven up the place by bringing something personal, and since you refuse to bring your extensive and impressive sex tape collection, I am bringing something to compensate for your efforts- or lack thereof.”

“Well if you want something personal, just stick a rainbow flag up on the roof or something.”

Mac scoffs. “Whoa, thats a little too gay, even for me. God would sink this house if he saw that.” He continues pushing his ‘fist’ bike.

“Explain to me how a house built on land is gonna sink.”

“Uhhh, sinkholes! Duh! The bible talks about those all the time.”

“This is Philadelphia. Hell would freeze over before we have a sinkhole.”

“Den, you’re gonna have to stop joking about Hell, or we’re gonna end up there!”

“If you don’t think we’re already going to Hell, dude…” Dennis trails off.

Charlie interrupts their conversation as he rushes outside to greet them.

“Hey! You’re back! With a...bike? What the hell? I thought you were bringing back some decorations. Like my dog painting!”

“Nobody wants your stupid dog painting in the Alley House.” Dennis folds his arms.

“And plus, the Ass Pounder 1000 is like a jillion times more badass!”

“Oh god, is that your goddamn dildo bike, Mac? Why would you bring that into the Alley House-”

“It’s not a dildo, it’s a fist, and I told you, this thing is going to make us rich! We’re gonna be millionaires! Now, help me lift this thing into the loft.” Mac starts to lift the Ass Pounder 1000, expecting Charlie and Dennis to help him. They don’t.

Frank comes out of Dee’s space, and looks back at Dennis and Charlie. “Well, Chawlie, I convinced ‘er! We’re going to Deandra’s to get some more furniture. Dennis, wanna come?”

“Sure,” Dennis replies. Anything to get away from Mac for a bit.

The three of them head to Dee’s apartment, leaving behind two clueless members of the gang.

Mac gives up on lifting the Ass Pounder prototype, and puts it down gently on the floor, next to the door. He wouldn’t want to damage the bike.

Dee peers out from behind her curtain before leaving, groaning at Mac’s presence but less tense now that Charlie’s gone.

“Can you believe those guys? Taking my stuff. You know I didn’t even say yes? They just went ahead and did it anyway!”

“I totally get you man,” Mac stretches a bit. “I keep trying to get Dennis to invest in my Ass Pounder 1000 prototype, but he just won’t give in! And now he doesn’t even want to sleep with me. I’m a great person to sleep with!”

“We gotta start standing up to them more often.” A wave of sudden confidence comes over Dee’s face, and she gets closer to Mac. “I say we make ‘em regret throwing up on us, taking our stuff and not investing in our Ass Pounders! Truce?”

Dee holds out a hand, and Mac grips it firmly. They share smirks with each other.

“Truce,” Mac responds.

During their moment, another hand goes on top of the pair. The hand is filthy, and smeared with some type of bug.

“Truce,” this new person says, and both Mac and Dee look up at him with disgrace.

“God damn it, Cricket! We were doing our thing here!”

“I just figured since we were talking about being unappreciated, I’d join in, because I know that game! Felt right, y’know?” Cricket takes off his jacket and throws it on the ground, letting a cloud of dirt form around it.

“Nice place! Small, but not too small, and you could totally put a massage chair right there or something…”

“What are you doing here?” Mac crosses his arms and follows Cricket around the room.

“I was gonna use your sink to clean up a bit, but I noticed your new place and thought I might hang around. Even brought you a housewarming present, hold on-“ Cricket reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bag of white powder, tossing it at Mac. The bag hits him and bounces back to the floor.

“I’m not accepting cocaine as a housewarming present!” Mac’s stance shifts, and he’s clearly trying to intimidate Cricket out of the Alley House.

“More for me then,” Cricket shrugs and snatches the bag. Dee is visibly interested in this ‘gift’ as well.

“Hey, hey Crick- you mind uh- giving me some of that? Hm?”

Cricket holds the bag close. “No way!”

“It’s my housewarming present!” Dee states, raising her voice.

“Not anymore, you bitch! You do not get to taste my delicious drugs after letting your boyfriend here insult it!” Cricket reaches into the bag and gets some powder on his finger, slathering his gums in it.

“Woah, pump the brakes Crick, she’s not my girlfriend. She disgusts me. And plus, I don’t even like women!” Mac pushes Dee to the side.

As much as Cricket’s “gift” entices Dee, she’s had quite enough of people’s shit today, besides, she figures she can find a way to get it somehow. “Ugh, whatever!”

INT: Dee’s Apartment - Evening

Derby Day

After grabbing a few things from their own apartments, Frank, Dennis and Charlie enter Dee’s. Dennis shuts the door behind them and clasps his hands together.

“Right, we’re gonna need a lot of things. But don’t- don’t start grabbing just everything. We need to keep it uh, keep it spacious in there. I’d like this little holiday to feel somewhat…luxurious.” Dennis eyes Dee’s apartment. He could definitely do a better decorating job.

“Really, dude? Luxurious?” Charlie narrows his eyes at Dennis.

Dennis’ eyes shift up as if he was envisioning the Alley House for a moment. He tightens his lips in agreement that any pursuit of luxury in the Alley House is absurd.

Frank waddles over to Dee’s bedroom with Charlie following. They both begin rummaging through various drawers which probably- definitely- were not necessary to be rummaging through.

“Holy shit!” Charlie shrieks.

“Eh? What’s the matta’?” Frank spins around to face Charlie, who’s gripping a can of some sort.

“Dee’s bein’ watched, man! Come look at this! They’re watching her through this can disguised as this lady product!'' Charlie holds the can up to Frank.

“What? Where the hell are ya gettin’ this nonsense from!” Frank squints at the can, then up at Charlie.

“Says right here, Hairspy! You think they’ve got a camera in there? Or, or maybe each time she uses this she’s, like, unknowingly putting little cameras in her hair? I mean it is a hairspy and- Oh my god, Frank, that means each time Dee sees us, we’re being watched through the cameras in her hair, too! Shit! Oh my god, oh my god, dude, what are we gonna-”

“Chawlie, Chawlie, Chawlie! Relax! Says hairspray, not hairspy! ‘S a bottle of hairspray!” Frank traces his finger under the words on the can. It does, in fact, say hairspray and not hairspy.

Charlie blinks his eyes and opens and closes his mouth a couple times as if to respond, but doesn’t seem to know what to say. He instead resorts to scratching the back of his ear and offering a tight-lipped nod.

In the meantime, Dennis is on his knees under a small desk in the living room looking through, once again, various certainly unneeded items with little to no care for how much of a mess he’s making of Dee’s apartment. As he chucks records and boxes aside, something catches his attention. A white shoebox with only the word “BLACKMAIL” scrawled in messy handwriting across the side of it in black marker. Dennis cocks an eyebrow. He removes the lid to uncover what looks to be a variety of photos and papers, as well as a small brown journal. Dennis furrows his brows, his face turning pale as he picks up the book.

“Ohh, Dee you goddamn son of a BITCH! I had it for a week! I wrote in it for a week, at most! You bitch! You goddamn snooping bitch!” Dennis stammers to himself in rage, frantically flipping through the pages.

Dennis Reynolds has never had a healthy outlet for his emotions, nor any place to share his innermost personal thoughts. However, back in college, a 21-year-old Dennis concluded it wouldn’t really hurt to try projecting his thoughts somewhere for once. He only used the journal for a week or so before throwing it out, but 21 years with no outlet whatsoever can cause a man to quite literally lose it. A week was more than enough time to write a whole lot of things. Terrible things.

He begins scanning through the rest of the things at the bottom of the box - to his relief, the rest appears to be shit Dee had collected on Mac and Charlie. Embarrassing photos, scrapped love letters, basic stuff. As pissed as he is, he knows he’s incredibly lucky to have found the box, and he now has it all to himself.

Dennis is interrupted by a loud click-clacking sound approaching rapidly. As he scrambles to shut the box, he hits his head on the desk above him - but with no time to spare, he shoves the box behind him and turns to face the source of the click-clacking which has now stopped. To Dennis’ dismay, Frank and Charlie- both wearing bras on top of their clothes and covered in makeup- stand in front of him. Charlie seems to be the source of the noise, as he’s wearing red high-heels.

“Well?” Charlie tilts his chin down and looks at Dennis through his newly clumpy lashes. Frank mirrors Charlie.

Dennis’ mouth hangs open as he struggles to process the sight in front of him. He shuts his eyes tightly for a moment before speaking. “Well-“ he stammers. “Well? Fools, you look like fools. Hideous makeup, and what is going on here-?” He gestures towards the bras over their clothes. “Frank, your foundation is at least seven shades too pale, and Charlie, what is with that god-awful beret? Clearly, neither of you know how to apply lipstick, let alone put an outfit together! For god’s sake, you look like clowns!”

“Sexy clowns?” Frank asks, striking a pose that could only be described as ‘walrus-esque.’

“No clowns are sexy clowns!” Dennis huffs, before standing and pulling a small package of makeup wipes from his pocket. “These. Use them.”

Frank crosses his arms, his jewellery clanging together. “Chawlie, you know what to do.”

Charlie glares at Dennis for a second and grabs the wipes. He opens the package carefully, and shoves the wipes in his mouth.

Dennis looks on in utter horror as Frank and Charlie laugh maniacally in his face. “You guys are psychopaths…you have to be.”

“But we’re hot psychopaths!” Charlie cackles through a mouth full of wipes.

“You goddamn savages! Idiots! Savages!”

It’s dark out. Dee and Mac are armed with spray paint and cocaine, while Cricket is duct taped in the corner of the Alley House.

“This is an excellent idea, Mac. Really really really great. This’ll show em! I’m gonna cover the walls in dicks and stuff!”

“Loving your enthusiasm! But- one question- why did you need the cocaine?”

“Because Cricket wouldn’t fucking give me any and I got pissed!”

“Can you please untie me?” Cricket sobs in the corner of the Alley House’s main room.

“We’ve explained this a million times, Cricket, you’re the hostage! We’re gonna stage a break in, and spray paint all over the walls, and crowbar some shit!” Mac raises a crowbar above his head, unnervingly close to hitting Cricket with it.

“Let’s do this!” Dee pulls a ski mask over her face and begins to spray something onto the wall. Mac joins her with a smile.

“Fuck you, Charlie, and fuck you, Frank,” Dee continues to cover the walls in yellow paint.

“And fuck you-“ Mac begins.

The door suddenly opens.

“Dennis!” Mac hides the spray paint behind his back and shoves Dee behind the curtain, out of sight. She immediately starts shouting profanities at him.

Dennis doesn’t react to Mac, or the vandalism, or Cricket’s begs for help. He simply stutters the word “tired” and begins to wobble.

Mac drops the paint can and runs to Dennis’ side. He catches him before he can hit the ground, and he struggles to think of what to say.

“Are you okay Dennis- you hurt?” Mac scoops Dennis into his arms, giving him an ocular patdown to check for injuries.

“Dumbass Charlie,” Dennis whispers. “Made a mess of Dee’s place, ate my wipes, drained my energy…”

Almost on cue, the remaining two members of the gang burst through the door carrying Dee’s mattress.

“You guys look like drag queens! What the hell is wrong with you?” Mac has to use his face to express himself as his arms are full, and he imagines he looks pretty silly.

“We got yer’ furniture,” Frank laughs, ignoring Mac’s question and carrying the bed further into Dee’s space.

“Ignor’ em.” Dennis was never really like this too often, but sometimes he just got so exhausted he could just barely stand up.

“Do you need to go to bed?” Mac lowers his voice so Dennis wouldn’t get too overwhelmed. “Or do you need to eat something? Or-”

“Bed.” Dennis says sternly. His eyes flutter shut and Mac nods. He doesn’t want to admit it, but Dennis is difficult to carry, and it would be even harder to bring him up the ladder. But, as the rest of the gang argues and begins to set up the Alley House with furniture, Mac makes his way to the loft with Dennis in his arms.

“There you go, buddy,” Mac says as he lowers Dennis onto the mattress and covers him in one of Dee’s blankets. He notices that his sleeping friend is holding some kind of book, and figures it’d be harmless to read a bit. He pulls the curtain that separated the loft from the rest of the Alley House and begins to read.

The first few pages of the strange journal are normal:

Dear diary, I decided to write because I need to let some things out.

Dear diary, I’ve only been at college for two weeks and I want to go home.

Dear diary, I’m really drunk but I think I might have the perfect plan to burn this fucking college to the ground.

But when Mac flips to about halfway through the book, settling into bed, his face gets hot and he can't stop looking back at Dennis.

Dear diary…

I miss Mac. Everyone in this whole school is unbelievably mean to me. They don’t understand me at all. I want to go home.

I’ve been sort of buzzed the whole day, and with nobody to talk to I’ve been doing a lot of bullshit self reflection.

I think I might be in love with Mac. I don’t know if it’s just because I can’t get any girls in this stupid college, or if I’ve just had too many beers, or if I’ve let everyone else get to me.

But diary, I think I’m in love with him. And I am going to make sure that nobody ever finds out.

The next few pages were torn out. Mac knows he shouldn’t be reading it, but something inside him tells his hands to continue.

The handwriting on the rest of the book doesn’t look at all like Dennis’, and Mac can tell he definitely didn’t write it. Various phrases- all of which are offensive and made Mac sick to his stomach- take up the remaining space in the journal.

Finally, Mac reaches the end. The page is worn with teardrops and the ink is smeared.

Dear diary, I don’t think I’m ever going to express myself ever again.

“Jesus Christ,” Mac sets the book down on the floor next to him, trying to process his emotions.

He stays silent for a moment. He can hear the gang bickering outside. He wants to scream at them and scream at himself a little, too. But as Dennis wraps his arm around him those feelings go away.

“What’re you doing…” Dennis grumbles, still barely awake.

“Nothing. I’m not doing anything. Go to bed.”

“Thank you for takin’ care of me…” Dennis is slurring his words. Mac isn’t sure if he’s even conscious.

“It’s no problem.”

“You’re like- super warm, man.”

“Go to bed, Den.”

There’s a second or two where Dennis doesn’t respond.

“…I love you…like a lot, bro…”

Mac sighs, then smiles. “I love you too.”

“Wouldn’t it…be so funny…if we like.” Dennis dozes off for a split second. “Made out. Or something.”

Mac blushes but plays it off with a laugh. “Do you really think that’d be funny, or are you like- sleep induced hallucinating me as a smokin’ chick?”

“No, I’m for real…for real.”

“I don’t think we should make out.”

“Okay but- I do…” Dennis waves his arm around a little bit trying to find Mac’s face. When he does, he lightly slaps it as to say- why the fuck are we not making out right now?

Mac closes his eyes and presses his lips together tightly. He attempts to stop himself from blushing, maybe if he tries hard enough he can intimidate himself into submission.

And then he kisses Dennis’ forehead, and hears him giggle a bit.

“That was so gay. You’re such a loser, Mac. It’s kinda cute though. I guess.”

“Thanks, Dennis,” Mac says sarcastically. Dennis reaches his arm further around Mac, and he lets it happen. He turns to face Dennis and slowly wraps his arm around him as well. Maybe only having one bed isn’t so bad after all.

INT: Alley House - Morning

Mac, who looks to be either dead or asleep, has his arms wrapped around Dennis’ waist. Dennis blinks his eyes open slowly, and at first he’s not even sure where he is - that sort of half-asleep trance where one has no idea what’s going on at all, just that it is not time to get up yet. But it’s not long before Dennis feels odd, like he feels too comfortable, past a comfortable state, something Dennis is not used to whatsoever.

Starting with location; alright, Dennis is aware he’s in his own bedroom. No, wait, the Alley House - this is his first night in the Alley House. Wait a minute. As if he’d been splashed in the face, Dennis’ mind began to move quickly. Someone was hugging him close from behind. Not some girl he’d hooked up with, but Mac McDonald of all people. His roommate and best friend. Dennis shoots up like a bullet and struggles to untangle Mac’s arms from his waist. At this point, Mac was starting to gain consciousness too, rubbing his eyes in a sleepy daze.

“Mac, what the fuck, man!” Dennis stands towards the side of the bed, his eyebrows knit together as he tries desperately to replay the events of last night in his head.

“Whuh...what? Huh?” Mac is about as useful as an empty can right now.

“What do you MEAN huh? The fuck was that, man? Spooning me?” Dennis stammers, waving his hands wildly.

Mac has definitely woken up by now, but finds himself wishing he could snap back into sleep right then as he recollects his thoughts. Dennis also starts to recall very faintly what happened before they fell asleep, but it was so embarrassing he wasn’t quite willing to own up to anything he had said.

“Dennis, you- do you remember anything- from last night?” Mac scratches the back of his neck and gulps hard, suddenly regretting not telling Dennis everything he wanted to while he still had the chance.

“No- I do not remember! I don’t!” Dennis has gone bright red in the face as he circles around the room looking for his jeans and whatnot. “I’m going downstairs! Don’t- don’t- arghh!” He’s not sure what he’s trying to say to Mac, instead ending the conversation with an unintelligible, strangled noise.

Mac is left sitting on the bed, half his hair sticking up, looking entirely lost.

When Dennis goes down the ladder to the main area, he finds the rest of the gang passed out on the floor. Charlie’s face is covered in spray paint, while Dee and Frank had clearly gotten into Cricket’s drugs. Speaking of Cricket, he’s whimpering in the corner, duct taped and pleading to be let go. The Alley House’s walls had been covered in graffiti.

Dennis inhales deeply and runs a hand through his hair.

“EVERYONE UP. NOW.”

When nobody listens except Mac, who he shoos away, Dennis swears under his breath. He is losing patience, and fast.

“NOOOOOOOW!” He screams as loud as he can, using his “scary-Dennis” powers on everyone. That was what Charlie called it, anyway.

“Jesus Christ, Dennis,” Dee wakes up first, rubbing her head. “Quiet down-”

“Quiet down? You destroyed the House!” Dennis waves his arms wildly to gesture at the graffiti.

“That wasn’t us!” Dee sniffs. “It was- ah shit, what was it? Robbers! It was robbers!”

“Bullshit! That’s bullshit! Dee, you bitch!” By this point, Charlie is starting to wake up too.

“Hmgh?” Charlie still has Dee’s makeup on, although it’s smeared all over the pillow and blocked by bright orange paint. He’s still holding a crusty Grumblepants.

“Ah- and you tied up poor Cricket!” Dennis rushes over to tear the duct tape off of Cricket, but after getting it off his legs he decides he doesn’t want to be next to him for any longer than he has to. He let’s Cricket run off, with his hands still taped behind his back. “Why? Why did you do this?”

“Because you weren’t appreciating us, asshole!” Mac pulls back the loft’s curtain and shouts down at the group. He still hasn’t come down yet, because he doesn’t really know if he should. Dennis hasn’t told him it was okay.

“You did this too?” Dennis’ movements were getting more sporadic and violent.

“I didn’t do anything, but I was gonna! You don’t ever treat me with any respect! I do so much for you, and you won’t even invest a dollar into the Ass Pounder!”

“Yes! Because it’s stupid! I don’t want to waste my money on a dildo bike, Mac!”

“IT’S NOT A DILDO! IT’S A FIST! YOU BASTARD!” Mac nearly jumps down the ladder and runs to Dennis, fully ready to beat him up.

“Chill out, man,” Charlie rubs his eyes. He doesn’t entirely know what is going on, but what he does know was that Dennis woke him up from a really good nap and he is not happy.

“Shut up, Charlie! We’re in the middle of something!” Mac says, immediately turning back to Dennis and spewing random threats he knows he would never carry out.

“Yeah, shut up, Charlie! I still smell like barf!” Dee adds.

“Don’t try involving yourself in this!” Mac’s voice goes high pitched, and Dennis nods in agreement. “You don’t get to be involved!”

“Yeah, Dee, stupid bird.” The spray paint Charlie had huffed hasn’t quite worn off yet and it isn’t hard to tell. He starts to reach for more, but can’t find any. “Why are you even still mad at me? We like totally bonded or whatever when we spray painted the Alley House n’ stuff- and Frank even brought some pre-boiled denim back just for you-”

Dee and Mac snap back towards Charlie, Dee’s eyes rimmed with red. “No one cares about your stupid denim, Charlie!”

Faint rumbling can be heard from the outside of the Alley House, the gang pay no mind to it, or just can’t hear it over all the fighting.

Frank sits up from the daze he’s in on the floor. “Wha- what’s all the yappin’ about? My ears a’ splitting.”

Dee mumbles under her breath, “Mac and Dennis are having a lover’s quarrel.”

Dennis tenses up and his face somehow, somehow manages to get more red than it already is. And at that moment, as if he knows Dennis doesn’t want to respond, Mac shouts “We are not lovers! I swear to god, Dee!”

“What he said! I cannot fathom how you still think that I would ever get together with Mac! Mac, for god’s sake!” Dennis can see Mac’s disappointed expression from the corner of his eye, but he soon pushes it down with a swallow and a nod.

“You’re sleeping in the same be-eeed,” Dee taunts, waving a finger near Dennis’ chest. “Gay City, population you!”

“Shut up, Dee! Shut the hell up!” Mac shouts.

“You’re literally gay, dude, I don’t see what the big deal is,” Charlie sniffles. He’s still primarily focused on finding more spray paint, but he’s still technically a part of this fight.

“Internalized misogyny, Chawlie, they get it all the time.”

“That’s not even the right term! It’s internalized homophobia,” Dennis begins to argue, but a crack of loud thunder interrupts him before he can. “Jesus H. Christ, these storms get worse every damn year.”

“Don’t change the subject! How exactly do you know the right term?” Dee continues to taunt Dennis.

“Because I’m well educated on the social issues of today!” Dennis places his hands on his hips, his foot tapping quickly.

“And I appreciate you for that, Den. I really do.” Mac smiles genuinely and places a hand on Dennis’ shoulder.

“Don’t get all mushy, you stupid idiot stupid-ass!” The tingly feeling Dennis gets in his stomach whenever Mac calls him ‘Den’ cancels out his ability to dish out smart insults. He moves away from Mac.

“Someone’s blushin’.” Frank cracks his neck and pulls a flask from his pocket.

“Don’t say that like I’m still in highschool!” Dennis snaps. “And I am not- blushing!”

“I don’t even get why we’re fighting over this. We all know that Dennis and I hate each other and would rather like- eat scorpions than cuddle or kiss or anything.” Mac shrugs.

“It’s crazy how much I don’t believe you and you’re lying right now.” Charlie finds some leftover spray paint and attempts to roll over the back of the couch to get it.

“Mhm. Yeah. Are you guys like, boning? Or just smashing faces?” Dee asks.

“That’s disgusting! We aren’t doing any of that! I swear to god Dee, I’m going to kick your gangly ass and use your body as a rug!”

“Don’t threaten yer sister.” Frank takes a sip from the flask and wipes the white powder from under his nose.

“I can do what I want! You’re not even my real dad! And I wish Dee was never born, so that she wouldn’t have to be my sister!” He regrets his words almost the instant they come out of his mouth. Dee gasps, and it sounds genuine. The pouring rain outside only seems to get louder.

“C’mon, Den, that’s a bit too far.” Mac glances down at the floor, crossing his arms. He can feel the air in the House gradually getting cooler.

“Yeah dude, that’s like a new low. And you’ve gone pretty low, or whatever.” Charlie’s barely listening at this point. He’s probably just going along with whoever talks first.

“I don’t even care at this point. Just leave me alone. Go open the bar or something.” Dennis pinches the bridge of his nose and waves everyone off.

“Yeah. Sure. I’ll open the bar. Charlie, you’re coming with me.” Dee grabs Charlie by the wrist and pulls him off the couch, dragging him to the pub.

“I’m comin’ with ya,” Frank downs whatever’s left in the flask and follows behind them. “I don’t wanna be left alone with these two.”

“And I’m going to take a nap. Lord knows I need one.” Dennis trudges over to the ladder and up to the loft, with barely enough energy left to get him there.

“Den- Dennis, come on,” Mac follows Dennis up. The air of the loft feels damp.

“Oh my God, Mac! Do you have to cling to me like a child any time I do anything? BEGONE!”

“I just don’t get why you’re so mad at me! I know I gave Dee the idea to wreck up the Alley House, but I didn’t actually do anything! Because you showed up!” Mac fails to realize that doesn’t really clear him from anything. “And about the whole gay-conspiracy thing, while I am really gay I am not gay for you! Scout’s honor!”

“It’s not about the Alley House and it’s not about the ‘gay-conspiracy!’ I couldn’t give two shits about that!”

“Then what is it about?”

Dennis puts his hands on his hips and shoots Mac a condescending look. “What do you think it’s about, Mac? Hm?”

Mac thinks for a second…then realizes. “Is it about-” He checks behind the loft’s curtain to make sure the gang is gone. “Last night?”

“Of course it is!” Dennis sticks his arms out. He is absolutely dumbfounded that it took Mac this long to realize. “What the hell were you doing? A grown man should not be spooning his best friend!”

“I don’t- I don’t even really know? You just sorta-“

“I didn’t do anything, I can tell you that!” Dennis interjects. He vaguely remembers the last moments of the night before, but he won’t admit it no matter what. He’s just lucky he can blame it all on Mac. “Y’know, this is fucked up even for you. You promised you wouldn’t make the bed thing weird!”

“I never promised that- but even still, it was totally consensual cuddling. You were all like ‘we should kiss’ and I was like ‘man that’s kinda awkward so I’ll just give you a kiss on the forehead’ and you said-“

“Wait wait wait wait wait,” Dennis interrupts Mac for the millionth time. He seems genuinely shocked- he has no memories of that part. “You kissed me?”

“Again, only on the forehead! You totally wanted to like, French kiss me, you shouldn’t be making such a scene! You’re making me feel like a bad guy!”

“You are a bad guy, dude! I didn’t actually say any of that and you know it.” As Dennis wanders around the loft, he notices something on the floor.

He does a double take and goes over to pick it up. It’s his journal, left exactly where Mac put it.

“Did you read this?”

“No. . .Yes. I’m sorry! I didn’t think it was your journal, man!”

Dennis throws the book to the ground and closes his eyes. “Goddamnit, Mac, you bastard,” his voice cracks and he moves to the bed. Almost as if Mac isn’t there, Dennis sort of just breaks down right on the mattress.

Mac reaches out to try to comfort him, but Dennis swats his hand away.

“Don’t touch me.”

Mac had never seen Dennis like this before. He hadn’t cried once, not that he had seen, and when he was emotional it was almost always scary. Not this. Mac’s left to watch as he silently weeps. If it was any other situation, Mac would think he was faking, but as much as he wants to believe that- he can’t. It’s one of the most uncomfortable feelings he’s ever experienced.

Every few seconds, Dennis lets out a pained whimper or a shaky breath. Mac is still standing next to him. He messes with his hands. He has no idea what to say. He’s never been in this situation before. The storm is getting worse outside, shaking the small Alley House. A dribble of water pokes through a tiny crack in the ceiling.

“Dennis, I- I don’t think this will help anything, but I’m not mad at you. I sorta- I sorta feel the same way? I guess?” Mac takes a seat next to Dennis on the bed.

Neither of them say anything for a while. As minutes pass, Mac gets more nervous. His mind starts racing. Did he say the right thing? Can he ever come back from this? Oh god, what if Dennis hates him even more now?

Dennis keeps his head in his hands, but his tears have stopped.

“Are you- kidding me?” He finally says, looking back at Mac.

“Whuh?” Mac scoots back on the bed, a droplet splashing against his forehead. He wipes it off, confused, but overall ignores it.

“You really think that’s just going to make everything magically okay? You read through my stuff! That was personal, Mac! You think I was just- ready to tell you all that shit? No!” He’s screaming like he normally would, but his demeanour is off-putting. He looks more broken than angry.

“I said I’m sorry, what more do you want? And I’m not the one who was talking about making out and being in love with me and shit! You can’t do that and then try to pin it on me!” Mac stands up in an attempt to assert dominance.

“I don’t care what I said! I take it all back! Why do you think I was trying to put all this shit on you? You’re the gay one!”

“Oh, yes! Reeeaaal mature, dude! I bet you even remember everything from last night! And you’re lying!” Mac points right at Dennis, like an elementary schooler trying to embarrass someone.

“Oh, my god, obviously! Did you not hear what I just said? You are the stupidest man on the planet! You have to be!” Dennis stands as well, picking his journal back up and leaving the loft. A steady stream follows down the back wall, as Mac follows.

“This argument isn’t over!” He calls.

As Mac and Dennis continue to yell at each other, Charlie comes back from the pub.

“What’s all the ruckus, guys? You’re scaring Grumblepants.” He says, but Dennis and Mac ignore him and keep fighting.

Dee and Frank walk in shortly after, their heels splashing against small puddles formed on the floor of the House.

“Absolutely none of your goddamn business, you fucking morons! Imbeciles, all of you! I cannot be around any of you! I can’t trust you with anything whatsoever, you are all beyond insufferable!” Dennis is shaking with fury.

His voice dies down, and instead of the usual ensemble of cacophonous voices erupting from everyone, the only noise to be heard is a low rumble.

Dennis lowers his fists, narrowing his eyes in concern. The gang all share worrisome glances for a moment.

Murky water rapidly seeps through the entrance of the Alley House, and the rumbling only grows louder. The House shakes, the ceiling visibly crumbling as the rain continues flowing into the House. It reaches above their shoes, and when Frank tries to move, his feet sink into the floor.

“Ah, shit!” He yells out as the water begins to rise, though not alarmingly fast, as Frank would like to put it.

Charlie lets out a raspy shriek, clutching Grumblepants close to his chest.

“Ohh my God! Goddamnit!” Dee screeches and grips the wall behind her.

Mac is shaking his head swiftly, a look of utter fright painted on his face. “Ohh man, this is the end! The big man’s finally had it with us! This is because of the kiss, isn’t it?” He falls to his knees, clasping his hands together and shutting his eyes firmly.

“The kiss? The kiss? Oh, my God. Oh, you guys totally kissed, that’s what this is all about. I knew it! I fucking knew it!” Dee points a hand back and forth between Mac and Dennis, her other hand still gripping the wall behind her.

Dennis lets out an immensely pained noise, something between a wail and a scream.

Mac’s eyes widen and he swallows hard. The word “Shit.” spells out in his mind in big, bold lettering.

“NO, No, I didn’t say - you didn’t hear - we didn’t! It’s,” Mac stammers, shaking his hands dismissively. He has to raise his voice significantly over the deafening rumbling and gushing of water.

“We did NOT kiss!” Dennis screams.

“So explain Mac bringing up a kiss? I know what I heard-“

“It was just on the forehead!” Dennis snaps defensively.

“You said that didn’t matter! Ohhh, when we die here you’re going to hell!” Mac spits at Dennis.

Charlie is ramming himself against the door, but it doesn’t seem to be opening. He stops for a moment, entirely overwhelmed by the bickering and frustration of the seemingly jammed door.

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP! OH MY GOD! OUR HOUSE IS FLOODING! THE DOOR IS JAMMED! AND THAT’S YOUR CONCERN RIGHT NOW?” Charlie holds his hands over his ears for a moment before something seems to dawn over him, and he scrambles to look for a can of spray paint.

“We’re all gonna die! This is the end! We’re all gonna die here!” He hollers, punctuating his cries with huffs of the paint.

“Chawlie’s right, we’re all gonna die he’a like cattle! I’M GOIN’ OUT WASTED!” Frank looks to be more accepting of the circumstances in comparison to the rest of the gang, already downing a can of beer.

“Jesus Christ, fuck it, whatever!” Dee makes her way through the water which is almost at her waist by now and grabs for the remains of the cocaine from last night.

Mac and Dennis lock eyes as chaos rises around them, as does the water, which has now reached a point where it’s near-impossible to stand feet on the ground.

“Dennis, I’m sorry man! I really, really am! I don’t wanna die on bad terms with you dude! That would really suck for the both of us I think!” Mac half-shouts over all the noise, now fighting to keep his head above the water.

Dennis stares at him for a moment as he swims in place. He thinks Mac looks stupid right now. Incredibly stupid. Like a pleading dog in a kiddy pool. But that’s not what matters right now, right now they are in the midst of a flood, living their very last moments together.

Dennis tightens his lip and winces. “Yeah. Yeah, whatever. Forget it, Mac, It’s whatever.” His words sounded colder than he’d intended, but he wasn’t about to say anything even remotely more sentimental than that.

The two stare for a moment, treading water in the shared uncomfortable silence.

“Guh?”

“Oh, my God. I forgive you! Is that what you need to hear? God, you’re stupid.”

“Really? Oh, man.” Mac beams for a moment before clearing his throat.

Charlie, Frank and Dee are yelling over each other as they tread water, several cans of beer bouncing just above the surface of the water around their heads.

“I don’t wanna die like this, I’m too young! I’m not ready to go yet! Not with you guys!” Dee cries out and starts splashing her way over to the door of the Alley House.

“The thing won’t budge no matter what, I tried! We’re stuck, Dee!” Charlie calls out to her.

To everyone’s surprise, it opens as soon as she tries.

The water descends out of the House, pushing the gang along with it. They hit the ground with a thud, as they all collectively groan- in pain and strange relief.

“OHH, GODDAMNIT, CHARLIE! IT WAS A PULL DOOR, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PULL IT OPEN! YOU NEARLY DROWNED US WITH YOUR IDIOCY!” Dee squawks.

“Ya’ve gotta be kiddin’ me, Chawlie!”

“Jesus Christ, dude!”

“Goddamnit!”

They all shove past each other, scrambling to get inside.

“WAIT!” Charlie lets out a full shriek.

“Oh my God, what could it possibly be now Charlie?” Dee sneers as she watches him push his way back into the Alley House.

Charlie scans the surface of the cloudy water, his breathing quick and panicked.

“GRUMBLEPANTS!”

Charlie grabs ahold of the toy which seems to barely be in-tact anymore.

“Ay-way…”

Water sputters out of it.

“We’ll get you cleaned up at home, Mr. Grumblepants, don’t you even worry!” Charlie squeezes the toy tightly as he makes his way back out of the door.

“Ah-noo…”

Charlie is greeted by the gang all looking disappointed, but too defeated to complain. Charlie notices their expressions quickly morph into wide-eyed terror. He spins around only to see the Alley House collapsing entirely right as he’d gotten out.

They all gape in shock.

INT: Paddy’s Pub - Day

Take The Plunge

The gang's all safely back in the pub, drying off with old towels from the basement. Dennis is behind the bar, pouring a generous fill of low-quality beer into a glass. He slides it to Charlie, who hasn’t been drying off and instead is cradling Grumblepants. Every so often the Furby makes a buzzing noise, and Charlie shushes it. The rest of the gang have already been nursing their beers for a while.

“Am I tha only one who was against this ol’ Alley House thing from tha start?” Frank sets his drink down on the counter.

Dennis is still out of it from his fight with Mac and everyone earlier, and shoots a meager glare at Frank. However, a fire is sizzling uncomfortably in the back of his throat, and he can feel his hands clench till his knuckles are white- holding back a comment that would stir up more than he could handle. It was your idea in the first place, Frank.

“Whatever, we can all agree it was a huge failure,” Dennis replies. He stares into the leftover beer in his hands, shaking his head and tipping back the rest. “We’ll just move on from it like we always do.”

“I just don’t understand, man,” Charlie says, gently placing Grumblepants on a bar stool. “We put our sweat, tears and blood into that Alley House, and that storm took it out like that.” Charlie snaps his fingers.

“I told you dude, God has it out for us. Like c’mon, a storm and a flood? That’s fuckin’ biblical, man.” Mac finishes his beer and decides he needs something stronger, so he searches for whatever cheap whiskey he can find.

“Or we’re just bad at construction.” Dennis says. “The House didn’t even have a good foundation. A light breeze could’ve knocked it over.”

“It was pretty scary either way. It was totally filling up with water like crazy. We shoulda like- storm proofed it. That woulda worked for sure.”

“Storm proofin’s too expensive. Alley Houses are ‘sposed to be cheap, Chawlie. My pockets were already hurtin’ from having to buy all the equipment.”

“My pockets are gonna hurt from having to replace all my furniture.” It takes a moment for Dee to realize just how bad the financial damage is going to be. She quickly drinks her beer and gestures for Mac to pour her a glass of whiskey.

“Great! So that’s a Dee problem, aaand she’s gonna have to deal with it.” Mac shoots a condescending smile at Dee as he finishes pouring and hands her the glass.

Dee sneers at him. “Oh, right, okay, we’re doing that now? Right back to being a dickwad to Dee everyone! After she was the one to figure out how to open the goddamn door to save all our asses!”

“We don’t owe you jack, Dee.” Dennis rubs his temples, feeling a headache coming on already.

“Yes, you do! I saved you all after Charlie’s stupid mistake!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, how the hell was I supposed to know it was a pull-door? At least I was trying to get us out of there instead of arguing about whatever the hell you guys were on, a kiss?” Charlie waves one hand in the air, the other still latched onto a soaked and dirty Grumblepants.

“It wasn’t even a proper kiss!” Mac slams a hand against the counter.

“Ohh my God, I don’t even care! I do not care! Whatever it is the two of you have going on, I sincerely do not give a damn!” Dee shouts in response.

“Shit, I thought we knew this already? Man, I don’t think any of us care. In fact, I’m happy for you guys.” Charlie looks over at Mac and Dennis. Dennis holds his head in his hands.

“Amen,” Dee says, and she clinks drinks with Charlie. “I don’t care if you’re gay, you’re both just as annoying.”

“Well, no! I mean, not saying I’m not gay, just- Dennis and I aren’t together! Not like that.” Mac tries to meet eyes with Dennis, but Dennis is still unresponsive and covering his face.

Ignoring Mac’s attempt at deflecting, Frank chimes in. “Yeah, it really doesn’t matta’ what gendah ya’ are. Men, broads, whateva Chawlie is. We all mess with dudes. If Dennis and Mac’ve got whateva goin’ on, why should we give a shit?” Frank takes a swig of his beer.

Mac squints his eyes for a second as he processes what he may have just found out about Frank. He looks over to Dennis again, who looks back this time. He looks flustered, but defeated instead of angry or defensive, which is a rare sight to see.

“Wait, I’m a gender? Are you saying I’m a gender?” Charlie raises his brows in amazement.

“What? No, I think Frank meant- screw it. You know what? Yes, Charlie, you are a gender.” Dee snickers.

“Oh man, that’s awesome! I’m a gender!” Charlie grins with excitement at his discovery.

Mac chuckles and shakes his head before looking back over at Dennis, whose eyes are fixed on a spot on the counter. He almost looks to have loosened up a bit, which puts Mac at ease.

Just as Mac looks away, Dennis’ hand wanders to the lonely space of Mac’s, slipping his fingers around the roughened edges. They’re hidden from the world’s gaze, but Dennis feels a thrill and a spark of freedom, with his hand sandwiched in such a gentle hold. He glances at Mac, a glint in his eye.

Maybe they were bad for each other- all the toxicity festering over the years. The florid backhanded compliments oozing through them. The lying and cheating and tearing each other limb from limb for any semblance of truth. The bludgeoned cars, and gasoline and hospital visits. The kind of people who made the worst of every good situation. He looks out towards the gang. Dee’s joking with Charlie- who still holds on dear to his Furby- genuine smiles gracing their features. Frank jazzing about God knows what, to whoever’s listening. They’d surely break out into a fight within the week. He glances back to Mac- he hopes not. His lips tug ever slightly, revealing a modest smile- he covers it up with his free hand.

He feels strangely at home in the chaos. At home with Mac.

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