#ok yes and they ate that shit up in middle school and soaked it into their personalities going into HS idk what to tell u

[southrnweed]

the way Jesse probably made a million HSM jokes anytime it was applicable when they were in school. Thistle doing basketball for a year then becoming a theater kid? high school musical joke. thistle being a theater kid with a secret crush on a basketball player? high school musical joke. calling the two of them 'sharpay and ryan but, like, somehow more evil and gay and also losers'

[seeingivy]

ribbons release

actor eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: happiness for once. until it is not. ronnie's love for foreshadowing strikes again.

an: not a fan of this chapter, but we digress. read it and do not kill me if you don't like it.

song: not explicitly mentioned, but this chapter reminds me of about you by the 1975. ratty healy, I hate you but you ate on this one thing.

previous part linked here

--

“I ju-just sent my loc-location, Eren.��� 

“I got it, Y/N. I just need you to hold on for ten more minutes, okay? Can you do that for me?” 

“Y-yes.” 

Seattle is famous for rain. You understand that all too well now. After what you’ve counted as twenty-seven minutes - from when you went to take the trash out to the mailpost you’re hiding behind now - you’re all but soaked. Drenched. 

Your phone is blowing up with texts, the rain is only getting harder, and the mini black dress and ribbon in your hair do no favors to keep you warm. You slide out of your call with Eren and quickly scan through the messages, buzzing so loud they’re blocking Eren’s voice. 

reiner: so, so proud of you always!!! stop being a big famous pop star and go back to being the little twerp who needs my help killing spiders on set :/ 

levi: I love you too, kid. And on a real listen, we really do love the album. 

armin: ann and i are smelling a triple threat on the horizon. love you to the moon and saturn <3

connie: i was accidentally pooping while i listened to dorothea for the first time and i think the combination of those two things at once gave me like a really visceral reaction. im not ok. u are amazing. 

mikasa: u are givg me aneurysm. pls don’t forgor to call me the scnd ur okay. 

erwin: Call me ASAP. 

erwin: Not urgent. Just feeling emotional about my little Canadian reaching hearts all over the world. 

king of bitches (maybe: ryomen sukuna): Fluff shit indeed. Blow me a kiss when you beat James for Album of the Year. 

danny: where is the album release post? it’s almost been half an hour. 

You have bigger problems at the moment. Like the frozen piece of fabric you’re wearing. You should have named the album sweaters or scarves or something. Then at least you’d be warm. And blend in with the paparazzi. 

Fuck.

“W-wait, Eren. Y-you ca-n’t b-be the one to get me.” you murmur, shivering through your teeth.

“Do you want to stay with someone else? I know nice people here. My neighbor is in her late forties and has like two middle school aged girls that are really nice. They’d take care of you, I promise you can trust them and-” he rambles. 

“N-no. I want to st-stay with you. But pa-papara-zzi. S-send ss-omeone e-else.” 

“Paparazzi? Why are-?” 

“Er-eren.” 

“Would it be that bad if it was me? Like it has to be someone else, Y/N?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“I have someone in mind. She’s leaving right now, okay?” 

Eren’s sound is muffled over the line now, which has you digging your phone into your ear to catch the ends of what he’s saying. 

Blast the heater….butt warmer on before she’s in the car….bring it up and I will kick your freeloading….

“Y/N?” 

“H-here.” 

“Good. I’m sending her. Don't get upset, this is the best I could do, okay? I-I promise she’s actually nice. You can trust her and-and I’d never send someone who would do something bad.”  

“O-okay. I t-trust you. J-just get me ou-out of th-this, please.” you whimper, praying to god the rustling behind you is a rabbit and not the group of them finding you. 

“I’m trying sweetheart, okay? She’s speeding. She’s on Main and Third, three lights and she’s there.” 

That’s when you see it. The flash of the camera. And hear five consecutive clicks right after. You look around the periphery, before you see two of them, two tall guys speed walking closer to where you’re hiding. 

So you do the only thing you can. Stand up and run instead. 

You scramble up off the pavement, hiking your dress down, and keep running down the block. Climb up the gates, knock over trash cans to block the way, anything to stop them. And when you look back, after who knows how long, you realize they’re gone. 

And sit flat on the messy pavement, finally lifting the phone back up. Only to realize Eren’s no longer on the line because your phone is dead. You drop it straight into your lap and dig your hands into your head, covering your ears to stop the pounding sound of the rain from getting any louder. 

God. Just breathe. Whoever is coming to get you is on the way. They’ll come get you and then you’ll be out of this mess. 

You hear three resounding clicks and a flash of a light to look up at two different paps, two girls this time, getting a straight on picture of you. And all you can do is put your head down in your lap and cry. 

They already got the picture. There’s no point in trying to run out of it anymore. 

“Y/N.” 

“Pl-please. I’m b-begging you. You already got your picture and can ss-spin it into whatever you want. I-I’m still a person, please. Just let me go.” you respond, the tears blinding your sight of vision. 

You feel a towel being wrapped around your shoulders and soft hands lifting you up by your arms. And then all of a sudden you’re in a warm car, being sped out of the neighborhood past the groups of paparazzi in between the houses, and not directly across from them having your picture taken. 

You’re in a car. You’re okay. You’re leaving. You’re okay. 

You lean back and breathe hard, phantom sobs still racking out of your chest, trying to register that you’re almost there. Safe behind closed, triple locked doors. 

“D-did you tell Eren?” 

“Yes. He’s not far, we’ll be there soon, okay?” 

“Okay. T-thank you. I’m Y/N.” 

“Lana.” 

You turn your head to actually take in the driver this time, to be met with the Lana you feared. Ricky’s ex-girlfriend, Lana. She has short brown hair - entirely different from her long, beachy waves from the Girlfriend incident - a pointed nose and a very clenched jaw. 

“Th-there are more blankets on the floor. I pumped the heater pretty hard, but I’ll turn all the fans your way. And anything you could possibly need is being rushed to the house for you, so just don’t worry, okay?” 

“I appreciate it. Thank you for coming to get me. I-I” 

“Please don’t thank me. I just-” 

She takes a harsh intake of breath and turns to give you a look, her mouth upturned. 

“He locked you out, didn’t he?” she whispers. 

“Yeah.” you respond. 

“What did you do?”

“I told him I didn’t like him back.” 

She turns her head towards you, a look of confusion on her face. 

“It was a PR thing.” 

She snorts. 

“Your managers must hate you.” 

“I’m starting to think they just might.” 

“Well. Don’t feel bad. Not for a fucking second. Just because he likes you, doesn’t mean he’s entitled to you reciprocating back. You like who you like. And if I were you, I wouldn’t stop liking a guy like Eren for a skeeze like Ricky either.” 

You lean against the glass, hot air blowing in your face, as you take in her expression - so enraged, so exasperated, so furious that it gives you a chill. But when she looks over and gives you a halfhearted smile, you see the pained expression there too. 

That’s when you pinpoint it. Lana reminds you of Historia. 

“I’m sorry.” you respond. 

“For?” 

“You knew he locked me out. He must have done it to you too, no?” you whisper, the tension in the air delicate. 

She swallows hard and clenches her knuckles on the steering wheel, eyes laser focused on the red light shining on her face. And beyond the original striking features - her sharp jaw and nose - you see the softness too. The dimples, the wrinkles near her eyes, the light brown freckles. 

“I wanted to take time off from acting. It-I did a role that was really traumatic and I just needed a break. And he was just about to go on tour and he wanted me to come to support. Like a little cheerleader.” 

“So he locked you out?” 

“For two days. He-he’s just. A lot of the fame stuff got to him when he was really little. And now he’s got this convoluted sense of self-image and it just- I don’t know. He’s got problems.” she responds. 

“I’m sorry. Really, that’s-” 

You stop talking, words failing you. And maybe it’s the way your head was frozen ten minutes ago and it’s being melted now, or that the picture they took is going to leak soon, or that there is no good thing to say to something shitty like this. It only took him three months to turn on you, which you’re guessing is generous now. She must have infinite patience for putting up with it for an entire year. 

“In a weird way, I’m glad it’s me and not Eren. You- this does something for me. Making sure you’re not out there for two days, it-it helps me.” she whispers, looking over to give you a smile. 

“I really appreciate you, Lana. Thank you. And I-I’m not mad at you for the Girlfriend thing. You had every right to do that.” 

“Y/N. I have every right to drag Ricky James’ name through the mud. But not yours. And I- shit. Please don’t tell Eren we talked about this. He’s going to kill me.” 

“Why?” 

“He told me that if I brought it up, he’d kick me out of his house. I kind of stay there because I-I hate living in our townhouse on set because of how toxic it is and he was nice enough to offer. And he made it very clear that I have to pick you and make sure you’re okay, not make you uncomfortable or anything. We’re here to take care of you and-” 

“I brought it up. I’ll deal with him if he gives you a hard time. I used to be really good at that type of thing.” 

“I know for a fact that you could tell him to twirl in the air like a show pony and he’d do it.”

“I’ll test the theory and let you know.” 

She laughs, giving you a smile which you warmly return. Your phone buzzes in your lap, finally revived, and you send a quick message to Mikasa and Jean before shutting it off. 

“I-I didn’t know that it was going to go that far. I knew the song and that we were just going to sing it. Let people speculate it was about you. I-I didn’t know they’d have a girl who looked like you OR bring Eren up on stage. And Eren didn’t know anything about the song or the performance at all - they, they set him up.” 

“Why would they do that? I mean, they got horrible backlash in the entire thing.” 

“They thought people would like it. And they severely underestimated how much people love you. And they did it because, Eren- he. He doesn’t follow rules and-” 

“Follow rules?” 

“I’m saying too much. He-he’s going to get mad. Ju-just rest, okay? You’re okay now, we’re two minutes from the neighborhood..”  

You give her a questioning look, which she returns with a dismissive shake. Stubborn - she’s Historia alright. You lean back in the chair and reach for the music nob, twisting it on. Only to be met with the Teletubbies Theme blasting through the car and a very flustered Lana turning the knob off. 

“Fuck.” 

“Teletubbies?”

“I-I can explain.” 

“Please. I’d love to hear it.” 

She drums her fingers on the steering wheel as the silence hangs in the air. 

“Okay. Maybe I can’t explain.” 

“No need. I appreciate versatile music taste in prospective friends. Especially classics like this.” you respond, cranking the music back on. 

“Friends?” 

“Don’t be silly. Not exaggerating, but I think you quite literally saved my life a few minutes ago. You’re like the La-La to my Dipsy.” 

“Lame. You’re more of a Tinky-Winky. And anytime. We girls stick together, right?” she responds, reaching for your hand and giving it a squeeze. Like Eren. 

Did she learn the hand squeezes from Eren? Is he squeezing her hands? They live together so …are they dating? 

“We’re here.” 

You nod, appreciative of Lana more than maybe any person on god's green Earth, as she pulls into the driveway and helps you out of the car. It’s only after sitting that you’re realizing your legs are so bone dead tired that you’re barely moving on your own. 

You move past the hood of the car as Eren walks into the garage, immediately beelining towards you. His hair is long again - it’s always changing every time you see him - and he’s all wound up with tensions sitting in his shoulders. His hands are warm and cupping your face, yanking the cold towel off and replacing it with a warm one. 

“Hey. You-you nicked your face, Y/N. And you’re freezing, you-” he whispers, brushing his fingers across the skin near your eye that stings on touch. 

Lana holds the door open as he leads you in, arms aggressively moving up and down your shoulders and his face all pinched up in concern. 

“You’re good to go? I put your stuff out by the door.” Eren says, gesturing to Lana. 

“Is she leaving?” you ask, looking up at Eren. 

“Yeah. Don’t worry, it’ll be just us. And I’m sure Mika and Jean will drop everything to fly out for you tomorrow, I can tell them if you need me to and-” 

“Well, don’t make her leave. She shouldn’t stay on that stupid set just because of me.” you respond. 

Eren looks over and glares at Lana, who is now wide eyed and giving Eren a sheepish smile. Fuck. He asked her not to talk about that. 

“Lana.” he says, in a warning tone. 

“Eren. Chill out. I didn’t even-” 

“You’re so full of yourself, you know that? You- she got drenched and the rain and you were talking about set?”

“It’s not like that! It just came up and-” 

“Oh, for sure. You just happened upon it like you were a villager walking in a town square. Ooh Y/N. You just got drenched in the rain and chased by paparazzi, but more importantly, the girls I work with are super bitchy.” he responds, mimicking her voice. 

“You-it wasn’t like that! You’re so aggravat-” 

“Eren. Leave her alone.” you ask, looking up at him. And you’re sure you must look horrible because he immediately stops when he looks at your face again and signals for her to leave, which she’s receptive to. 

“Okay. Lana, text me when you’re there. And check if you were followed on your way out.” Eren says. 

Lana stops and holds both of your arms at your biceps, hands soft on your skin. 

“Do call me if you need anything, okay? Especially Ricky related. Whatever you do, I’ll back you up, Tinky-Winky. ” 

“Thank you, La-La. I’ll take you up on that.” you respond, giving her a warm smile. 

“Oh god. No. No, you don’t get to be friends now. Fuck no, Lana. Please stick to the geriatric grandmas you play Scrabble with.” 

“You’re just mad they beat you at mahjong last week. Because you’re a prissy loser.” 

“And you’re-” 

You jab Eren in the side, signaling him to stop, as they both nod and she slides her way out. From the way he’s arguing, the look on his face is so similar to the one he gives Connie when they argue, you know they could go on for years if they got the chance. 

“Fuck you, Eren.” 

“Eat shit, Lana.” 

She flips him off as the door clicks shut behind her, the lack of her presence making you suddenly aware of your breaths. And of Eren, warm Eren rubbing into your shoulders and concerned green eyes staring into yours. 

“I like her.” you whisper. 

“Me too. Don’t tell her that though, she’s got an ego problem.” he responds.  

You laugh, which has him smiling at you, and suddenly you’re sobbing. And on cue, Eren has his arms around you, his touch warm and his voice oh so soft that it kills you. That you haven’t seen him in two months. And haven’t talked to him for longer. 

“Eren.” 

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry, it-it’ll be okay. I- we’ll fix this, okay? I’ll call Levi and Hange, whoever you want, they’ll all come and-” 

You reach up, tangling your arms around his neck as he keeps nervously talking, trying to hold you closer even though it’s not physically possible. And he’s just so- 

So familiar that he feels like home. 

“You’re breaking my heart here, Y/N. Please stop crying, I-I’ve got you, okay?” he murmurs, straight into your skin as you nod, trying your best to even out the sobs still leaving you. And slowly but surely, the stream slows and your breath evens out enough to get at least a few words out. 

“Okay. Okay, okay. I’m okay.” 

“Y/N?” 

“Hm?” 

“As much as I like holding you, you’re freezing. Take a shower first and we can do this all you want, okay?” 

You pull back, wiping the tears off your cheeks and giving him a nod. He gives you a small smile, before placing his hands on your shoulders and leading you down towards the bathroom. And you don’t miss all the posters and pictures he has on his walls - one from each season of Attack of Titan, a few of him and Armin, and even one of him and Lana flipping off the camera together. 

He pushes you into the bathroom and immediately turns on the shower all the way to the hottest setting, before turning around and putting his hands on his hips. 

“Towels, clothes, shampoo. There’s soap in there already and take as long as you want. Sit in here for three days if you have to just- do-do whatever you have to do and-” 

You pick up the bottle of shampoo, the lavender scented Pantene, the one that you’ve been using since you were fifteen. And you know, you know that Eren’s atrocious ass uses a three in one hair and conditioner so it’s not his. 

“Eren.” 

“Hm?” 

“Did you just happen to have the brand of shampoo that I use?” 

“N-no. Those are Lana’s.” 

“Then why are they unopened?” you ask, giving him a smirk. 

He glares at you, before rolling his eyes and holding your face. And now he’s leaning so close, so close that your lips are only a few feet away from yours, when he talks. 

“You know why you can’t make fun of me for keeping a spare of your shampoos in my house?” he whispers, green eyes burning in yours. 

“Why?” you whisper back, stomach lurching. 

“Because you’re actually here. I knew you’d come back to me.” he responds, giving your cheek a pinch before walking out. 

And when you watch him walk out, giving you one last smile before he shuts the door, you can’t help but roll your eyes. Typical Eren. Funny, irritating, and soft all in one. 

He’s the same as you left him. 

--

You pad out of the shower, Eren’s hoodie and sweatpants ridiculously huge on you, as you follow the sweet smell into the kitchen. Eren is leaned over the counter, sliding vegetables into two bowls of ramen as you walk in. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi. Took a while. Thought you died in there.” Eren responds, pressing his hands to your skin to test how warm they were. 

“I almost wish I did.” you respond, laughing. 

Except Eren doesn’t find it funny and instead he’s dropping the utensils and standing at your side. 

“Y/N.” 

“I was joking!” 

“Nothing about that was funny. Don’t ever joke about that.” he responds, rummaging through the drawers at your side before pulling out a little tube of gel. 

Eren taps the top of the counter, which you jump onto, before he takes his place in between your legs. His hands are focused on reading the instructions, forehead all scrunched up in concentration.

“What’s that?” 

“It’s like this…scar ointment or whatever. Helps things heal better, I want to use it on that cut on your pretty face.” he responds, twisting it open and squirting some on his finger. 

He brings his hands to your face, eyes intently focused on your cheek. You hiss the second his finger makes contact with your skin, the tingling sensation catching you off guard. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I know it hurts.” he whispers, smothering the cold gel down the side of your eye. 

“I-I fell on the pavement. My knees are pretty bad too, Eren.” you whisper, which he nods at. 

After he finishes, he’s carefully sliding the ends of your pants off and carefully placing the ointment on each of the jagged marks on your legs. And you eye the bowls of ramen at your side - knowing instantly that the one without mushrooms is yours - and reach for the food. The broth is so warm it soothes the aching feeling in your throat, still seasoned to perfection the way Eren always makes it. 

“Eren.” 

“Hm?” 

“Can I ask you a weird question?” 

“Sure.” 

“Are you and Lana dating?” 

He looks up from your leg and gives you a devilish smirk. And then starts laughing. Like full on, crouched over, tears from his eyes laughing.  

“Okay. It wasn’t that funny.” you murmur, rubbing your hands against the warm bowl and frowning. 

“Oh god, Y/N. Jesus-” 

“It’s a normal question! She lives with you, you trusted her to come get me, and you guys have a picture together in the hallway.” 

“Are you jealous?” he asks, standing up and leaning straight into your space. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Are too.” 

“Am not.” 

“You don’t need to get all embarrassed. Watching you kiss Ricky James made me want to break something, preferably his neck.” 

You swallow hard at the mention of Ricky again, the thought of him and what happened was so far away because you were with Eren. In his space, in your shared bubble, after so long. And he catches on too fast because he’s already profusely apologizing. 

“Hey. I didn’t mean to bring him up, I-I’m not trying to push you into telling me what happened it’s just-” 

“No. No, Eren. It’s okay. I know. I-” 

You breathe in hard and put the bowl of ramen down and reach for his hands instead. You keep your eyes focused on them - on the little mole on his left hand, the feeling of his knuckles underneath your fingers, and on him squeezing your hands three times before you start talking.  

“Ricky and I were faking the relationship for PR. Since London Boy and all that, it was Danny and Sareen’s idea. That-that’s why I stopped talking to you, I-I felt bad. And I was ashamed that I was even doing it, I-I don’t know. The Little Women press and all that, it would just get people to stream and talk. Make me a triple threat. And then today, I- He told me he liked me. And I said I couldn’t do that right now. That I don’t like him back. I went to take out the trash because it was so awkward and then I was going to go home but he- he locked me out. And when I asked to come back in, he repeated the same words to me. That he couldn’t do that right now.” 

Eren lifts your hands, still locked with his, and presses a kiss to the top of your knuckles, as you continue. His lips burn your skin, still. 

“I was out there and it-it was cold. And then I heard the cars and I saw seven paparazzi trucks, right on the porch. Ricky, his address isn’t leaked. No-no one knew I was there or that he was but they all showed up, right when I was out there and-” 

“He called them, didn’t he?” Eren asks, his tone so harsh, so unyielding that it almost doesn’t sound like him. 

“Yeah. And I ran, for so long. I- they got a picture. A few, I know they did and I was just so, so scared that I was going to be out there forever, that I was all alone and they were just going to-” 

Eren reaches forward, wrapping you in his arms for what feels like the fiftieth time tonight, but you welcome it. Focus on his heart beating under your ear, running your fingers over his fish tattoo on his bicep, and on his soft, steady breaths. 

“Eren.” 

“Hm.” 

“You didn’t say anything. What are you thinking about?” 

“What I’m thinking isn’t productive for you to know right now.” 

You look up at him, giving him a questioning look. 

“Drop it, Y/N.” 

“No. Tell me. I’m sure you’re mad and all but-” 

“Mad? I’m fucking furious, I’m livid. That he fucking locked you out and left you in the cold. You-you could have been seriously hurt. You are hurt. And not only that, the fucking paparazzi. You-you ran in the cold, you fell, you can’t stop crying and-and- I’m going to kill this asshole when I see him next because it’s his fault you’re feeling like this.” 

“Eren.” 

“No. Shut up, Y/N. I’m being serious. I-I don’t like seeing you like this and don’t tell me not to. He hurt you. It’s that simple.” 

You deflate, knowing Eren too well to know that he won’t drop this. Especially when he’s overly passionate, deep in the feeling right now. 

“Okay. But can you just be here for me right now? I need you here and not all….tense and mad. B-Be soft. And warm.” 

He stops, the frustration in his forehead dissolving as he takes a breath and smiles at you. Not fully, but it does the job. 

“Okay. I can do that. Let’s watch Fruits Basket. And then go to bed.” 

“You hate Fruits Basket.” 

“But I love you. Enough to watch your weird bestiality adjacent show and pretend to like it.” 

You smile and he reaches forward to pinch your cheeks. 

“Look at that smile. There she is. There’s my sweet girl.” he whispers, voice all tangled in his throat. 

--

You wake up to an empty bed, Eren’s side cold. And you pull his hoodie on before padding downstairs to find Eren’s phone pressed to his ear. He gives you a wave and points to the plate - a mix of eggs, french toast, and fruits - perfectly placed to perfection. 

You give him a smile and he walks off, taking the phone with him. You frown as you watch him disappear, jabbing your fork through the cantaloupe. 

What is he talking about that’s so important he doesn’t want you to hear? 

You jump off of the stool and quietly pad towards the direction he walked, hiding in the hallway. He’s leaning against the wall, staring at the picture right across - one of Levi and Hange kissing your cheeks at the vow renewal - and angle yourself to hear his words. 

“Is he okay?” 

“I’m glad. You tell me if you need anything else, okay?” 

“Okay, Coco. I missed you too, yeah?” 

Who the fuck is Coco?

He hangs up and you immediately scramble back to the kitchen, trying your best to stay inconspicuous as he comes back and gives you a smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes, the expression on his face almost tired. 

“Hey sleepyhead. You okay?” 

“Mhm. Food is really good, Eren.” 

He gives you a smile as he sits at your side, eyes focused on you as you eat your food. He places both of your phones in front of you, and you spot yours with nearly a hundred notifications. But when you reach for it, Eren grabs your hand in the air and locks it on his own instead. 

“Just-wait. Eat first.” he says, his tone hollow.

You turn your head to the side and take in Eren’s expression, downtrodden and uncharacteristically unexpressive. The complete opposite of Eren yesterday - moony eyes and soft smiles. 

“Eren.” 

“Y/N. If I ask you to do this for me, can you trust me and listen?” 

“No. You-what’s wrong? You’re being weird.” you ask, reaching for his hand. 

He looks over, the look indiscernible, as he leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“You-I took care of most of it, okay? Levi and Hange are coming. Just, don’t panic. You-it’s okay.” 

“Eren. You’re scaring me. Just tell me.” 

He takes a deep breath, cracking the knuckles in your hand as he nervously talks. 

“You-your pictures leaked. The ones of you running last night. And-and people started speculating really fast - wondering why you were running and crying on the night your album released instead of celebrating it. And-and then Ricky, he tweeted a bunch of things.” 

You pale. And reach for your phone, which Eren stops again. 

“They’re lies. Obviously. You don’t need to read them, not yet. And Lana told me she’s ready to back you up, whatever you want, when you need it. But, that’s not-” 

“What, Eren? Just spit it out.” you respond, frantically. 

“They- Ricky’s fans are mad at you. They’re sending you death threats.” 

“Oh.” 

You deflate, staring at the cold mess of breakfast on your plate. Death threats. Hate, you’re no stranger too. Of people commenting on your looks, how bad your singing is, how lame you are. But wishing you were dead? Full on, unbothered and cursing your existence? 

“And not just you, but your family too.” he whispers, watching your face fall. 

Your family. Your parents, Colt, Falco-

“Excuse me. What did you just say? 

Eren doesn’t respond and the tears fall immediately from your eyes, hot and angry as he reaches forward, immediately swiping them away. His expression's pained, he knows this all too well.

“I sent your family a security detail. Don’t worry. Colt was only minorly injured and-” 

You stand up and grab Eren’s shirt, bundling the fabric into a fist in your hands, as you glare at him. 

“Injured? What the fuck do you mean injured, Eren?” 

He sighs, lifting his hands to move yours, and hold them. You’re still clenching hard, so hard you’re sure you’re drawing blood, but he’s doing his best to uncurl your hands as he talks. 

“They threw a brick through the window. And the glass, Colt was sitting right there. I was just on the phone with Falco, he said he’s doing better. The security detailing has medical so you don’t have to worry about that again and they’re both okay and-” 

“No part of this is okay, Eren! Quit saying it’s okay when it’s not! They almost killed my brothers.” 

“Y/N.” 

“No. No, this is horrible, Eren. They-they don’t do any of this stuff. Falco’s barely thirteen. And Colt - he’s going to college. He’s not a celebrity, he’s not a singer, he’s just a student. How is he supposed to go out after this? Why- how is it supposed to be normal? And now, they’re going to be like us. They’re going to feel like they’re trapped in this fucking suffocating ass fish bowl and everyone’s watching and laughing at them and they just-” 

“Y/N. Stop. It’s not going to-” 

“Falco’s too soft for this. He’s just a kid, Eren. I can’t- no. This isn’t fair. Eren, they didn’t even do anything. They’re literally just related to me, they just love me and they’re getting hurt because of it. You- you’re probably getting dragged in the mud too. Everyone who helps me gets subjected to this, loving me comes with this big thing behind me and I can’t even keep people who get it with me. I let you go when you were the only person who understood and I messed it all up and got myself involved with Ricky James of all people and-” 

“Y/N. Stop. Please."

You sit flat on Eren’s floor, head in your hands, and cry, teardrops falling straight onto the floor. And Eren’s sitting there with you, with your big mess of jumbled feelings and mistakes, and trying his best to help you with it. 

That’s how Levi and Hange find you two, after pocketing the spare key Eren told them about. After he insistently called them and payed for a private jet, going on and on about how Y/N needed them. And here you two are, despite their original conceived notions that you two were fighting, on the floor, in each other’s arms. 

“Some things never change, huh?” Hange whispers. 

“Yeah. They keep fucking crying every time we see them.” he whispers back. 

--

Between Levi and Hange - Jean, Mikasa, and Connie who make it out that night - and Eren and Lana, they fix things. Most things. 

Ricky’s narrative about you is clear cut - half-true and half-fake. Your team forced him to date you and defend you for PR purposes, after the Girlfriend incident. There was an agreement that you two would write certain songs, make certain appearances, and support each other. 

But then Ricky turns the gate. Says that you’ve deeply, severely hurt him. That you led him on, that you used him to boost your own ego, and that you were dangerously obsessed with fame and not him. That you were all things - heartless, fake, that he doubted if you were even a real person. A glorious pop-star, empty and hollow on the inside.

And people jump on it fast. Citing the fact that you would throw away your friendship with Historia to be famous, that you stopped dating Eren when he stopped being successful, that you can go to tours but not to Mikasa or Jean’s birthday parties. 

The worst part? Ricky lied, but the things they pointed out were true. Every mistake you make is on display and that people make it a point to draw attention o it. That you really were in too deep, too deep into pleasing Sareen and Danny, and being a triple threat that you forgot that they were all there too. 

Eren, especially. Sweet, sweet Eren who saved you, who held you when you needed him. 

You look over at him and Lana, the two of them very aggressively debating how to use their last turn of their daily Wordle, and feel your heart deflate. 

You dropped the ball. You’ll never make it up to him. 

Lana, in her infinite kindness, has chosen to share her own story, as a corroboration for yours. That Ricky taunted, mocked, and harassed her the entire time they were dating. That you're anything but the things he says. Because she’s had enough and she’ll do it to help out her Tinky-Winky. (Much to Eren’s dismay, he hates that you’re both becoming closer as time goes on.) 

And to complement the announcement, Lana asked for one thing. To go out in style. You wrote a song with her and promised her that she was going to be the lead actress in the music video. A girl rage moment, like The Man. Danny and Sareen approve the move, making no comments or concerns about anything else that happened, and ask to be involved when the time comes. 

You sit on it for a few days. Till you’re ready. But where you are now - with these people - needs to stay for a little longer. Before you brace everything again. 

“Yo.” 

You smile, opening up space for Connie on the couch for you. 

“Hi Con.” 

“Deep in your thoughts there, princess. Thinking about how your album is about to go Multi-Platinum?” 

“No. Just the entire thing.” you respond, frowning. 

Connie rolls his eyes, reaching forward to squish your cheeks way too hard. 

“Ricky, when I catch you, Ricky-” Connie says under his breath, 

You snort, reaching forward to push Connie off. You focus back on Eren and Lana, who are now pulling each other's hair and a nice string of insults, as Mikasa and Levi brew their tea, entirely unbothered in the back. 

And when the screen in front of you flashes, when your third album goes Multi-Platinum after a week of being released, they’re all climbing on you. Jean and Mikasa are hollering in the back, Connie and Lana are jostling you in the air and pressing kisses to your cheek, and Eren, Levi, and Hange smile at you, the three of them enveloped in their own hug, across the way.

You split your separate ways at the end of the week, when you’re ready. Connie, Jean, and Mikasa return to set, Lana and Eren are gone with the wind, and Levi and Hange disappear again. 

When you sit on your plane back home, it sits in. How lonely this entire thing is. How a week full of your friends who love you only happened because of this sickening thing. That it's not a given, that they're presence is only in the bad times and almost never the good.

Your phone buzzes in your lap and you pick up your phone to read the notification. 

eren: don’t be a stranger. fish like to swim in schools, not alone. 

It’s something that rings in your mind, time and time again. When everyone else wins the war, when you keep performing and letting them take and take, for the sake of the work. For the art, for your dream.

And when you give up acting, singing, and dancing at the end of it all and make zero intentions to ever do any of this again, the question still bothers you.

If fish like to swim in schools, why did Eren push you so far away? Why was he so intent on swimming alone? Where you couldn't follow?

eren: I'm not saying that for you. and I know that this is selfish but...

eren: I need you just as much as you need me.

.

.

.

Fucking liar.

--

next part linked here

taglist:

@k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms

[thotteus-beaumont]

(Oh oh it’s magic) When I’m with you

Summary: {Just a cute little High-School AU!}

:Pete and Henry had been casually hooking for around 3 years now. Neither of them had the courage to mention it in a way that wasn’t just a request for more...

:The Beav was what filled the holes in each of their hearts, he was the rock and roll playing on their radios. Beaver was probably the first great love of each of their lives...at least, it felt that way to Jonesy who’d loved him since the kiddie school days...

(I’m still new to writing for these characters! Hope this is ok?) 

{Lifted a chunk of dialogue from this ficlet  that I did for Pete/Henry cause I loved it & wanted to use it for a bigger fic. SO the words are the same but it’s in different context now.}

Ships: Pete/Henry & Jonesy/Beaver 

Word Count:  4,681

{Tuesday Afternoon}

Pete and Henry had been casually hooking for around 3 years now. Neither of them had the courage to mention it in a way that wasn’t just a request for more.

It was getting close to what would be their 3rd Summer, it was hot and they were parked outside some building that sold lawn sprinkler systems. Pete’s mouth was kind of full when he heard Henry’s moan transition to more of an excited gasp. He popped off to glance up, the radio was now much louder in his ears

“Summer, it turns me upside down Summer, summer, summer It’s like a merry go round…”

“Really?” He scrunched up his nose and swiped the back of his palm over his mouth to which  Henry responded by pouting.

“Hey, you’re not done down there, Pete.” He chuckled and grabbed at the boys hand, they could joke about it but that was about it.

“Pretty sure that I am if you’re more focused on the radio than me.” Pete shrugged and crawled back onto the bench seat next to him. The night air outside was deadly silent and they both knew how the other man hated that. So Pete decided to get talkative as he casually threw his arm over Henry’s shoulders while the man made himself decent again. But Henry had other plans-

“When I’m with you (Oh oh it’s magic) Just a little magic You know it’s true I gotta hold on you…”

“This detour was very much appreciated but...we should probably get going, huh?” Pete scrunched up his nose when Henry wiggled away and went for the steering wheel again. The two of them were in desperate need of some alone time and fooling around in the car was getting uncomfortable these days....so off they went because 

on half-days of school, it seemed that a silent agreement went into motion that each grade would go somewhere different & specific to celebrate.

Freshman were designated the crummy little McDonald’s where they could comfortably cause a scene yet miraculously not be kicked out.

Sophomores got the Sub-Sandwich joint that was quite the walk away from the school and got your order right most of the time.

Juniors were at the warm pizza shop with the most delicious slices a person could ever ask for.

Seniors were basically living in the BBQ restaurant. It was the staple of their crummy little town and deservedly so.

And Pete and Henry were now laying side by side on Pete’s rickety twin-sized bed, happily skipping the tradition. Pete was propped up by his forearm which was gradually falling deeply into sleep and his spare was hanging in the air while his fingers curled and uncurled around Henry’s arm. The sun was coming in through the window and leaving the tiniest sun-spot against the wall behind them and from where Henry was sitting, it dusted Pete’s face with a golden blush. He scooted over slightly to give his friend some more room but only succeeded in causing another loud shriek of protest from the bed springs.

Henry let his head fall back with a sigh. “God, your bed is so fucking loud.” His hair shook out of his eyes with the sudden movement. “It’s gonna give your parents the wrong idea, you know?” He laughed and pushed Pete’s palm back against the pillows. “And they already don’t like me.”

Pete rolled his eyes and smacked his hand. “My parents love you, man. They like all three of you losers.”

His friends eyebrow shot up with doubt but Pete only continued.

“They talk about you guys all the time. Why do you think I invited you for lunch today-?”

“Easy, you love my company and we needed more room to fool around.” His voice was teasing as he dragged his fingers down from Pete’s now open palm to his elbow. When Henry’s attention was pointed downward, Pete took the time to sigh with subtle disappointment he was too embarrassed to voice after that response. 

“They think you’re good people.” Pete dipped his chin down to emphasize that he really meant it and Henry blinked his eyes away like he always did when things got serious. So Pete took the initiative and grabbed for his left arm when he made the move to bring his fingers back up. “Hey, I’m serious. They are psyched that I have such stand-up friends...y’know, except the Beav.” He let go of Henry’s arm with a laugh. 

Henry hummed quietly and curled his fingers around Pete’s wrist. “Even though I spilled your dad’s soup all over your kitchen table last time I ate here?”

Pete laughed loudly at the memory. “They thought that was funny.”

“Funny?” Henry frowned. “I ruined that tablecloth.”

“Yeah but my parents appreciate funny shit, man.” Pete giggled. “I did not tell them it was because you were trying to play sexy footsie with me and accidentally kicked the table leg.” Pete rolled his lips together to try and conceal his laughter when Henry’s cheeks flushed with a real pink blush.

“Hey! That’s not what I was doing, Pete! I was just...-ok, so I was antsy for action, sue me!” Henry playfully started attempting to roll his body over Pete’s. “That was so fucking embarrassing though!” He kicked his left leg over him and crawled on top, the twin bed’s springs squeaking over and over.

Pete couldn’t stop laughing long enough to remind Henry of the noise but he didn’t much mind with all the wrestling. That was until he started hearing the sound of his mothers footsteps coming up the stairs. There wasn’t enough time to do more than just shove Henry off of him…sending him to the carpet with a soft thud just as his bedroom door creaked open.

“Hey boys, lunch is downstairs when you’re ready.” She smiled, stringing a dish towel through her fingers while she spoke. “And remember not to kill each other, huh?” She shook her head as her eyes fell upon a dizzy looking Henry on the floor.

When she went back along downstairs, Henry smirked. “Kill each other, huh?”

Pete smacked his hands over his face as soon as his mother left and groaned with embarrassment.

“You’re lucky you have carpet, Pete. I smacked my head pretty hard.” Henry teased, crawling over and kneeling in front of where Pete sat on the bed. Slowly he grabbed at his friends wrists and pulled his palms from his eyes.

“That was your own fault.”

“Eh, well.” Henry shrugged. “That may be true but you owe me cause you’re the one who threw me off the bed instead of warning me like a decent person would.” He playfully shook Pete’s wrists and his friend scrunched up his nose.

“I panicked. I didn’t have enough time.” He shrugged and rolled his eyes. “But I’ll get you lunch on my card tomorrow if it makes you happy.” He grinned and wiggled out of his grip so he could start getting up.

Henry only shoved his way between Pete’s legs and grinned. “You’re so good to me, sweetheart.”

A nickname. That was new. There’d never once been an exchange of that kind between the, considering it was strictly a casual thing. Despite how often Pete may have quietly ached for more. 

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Pete closed his legs around him as tight as he could, figuring it was ok because his mother had mostly shut the door. Henry rested his forearms atop Pete’s thighs and shrugged. 

“Yes. Now, can we please go eat?” Henry asked with a smile. 

Pete nodded but then grabbed at Henry’s hands again, pulling at his long sleeves. “Wait, say that again, would ya?”

Henry paused before he put together what Pete was gettin’ at and his face fell into a unsure kind of expression. It looked neither happy nor too annoyed. Maybe just...confused? He sighed a bit and started to get up with a laugh, figuring Pete was only teasing. “Let’s go, you idiot.” He smacked Pete’s arm gently but it only set bolts of confirming sadness through his friend who was in fact...not teasing at all. 

                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beaver’s legs were completely soaked, the boot-cut jeans were about to stick to his thighs and give him that familiar thick itch he associated with summer camp. But that knowledge didn’t stop him from walking further into the little lake created by the heavy rain of the last few days. 

The water was cupped by the mushy concave grass field outside of the BBQ restaurant. Jonesy watched helplessly from the edge of what was basically a huge puddle while the Beav’s motorcycle jacket rested on his shoulders. 

“-So be true to your school now Just like you would to your girl or guy Be true to your school now.”

Beaver sang out loudly (and obnoxiously) as he continued on his way to the baseball cap floating in the middle of it all. 

The cap had been plucked off the Beav’s head by some piece of shit washed up jock waiter who’d graduated the year before. Good Ol’ Beaver couldn’t resist going at him with that back mouth of his when the dude was bragging about all the great shit he could do now that he was outta high school to a table of girls. 

Yeah, Beaver kicked it off by singing from the next table over (As he so often does)...“Another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody...!”

“Careful Beaver! Don’t wanna drown!” Jonesy laughed from dry land. 

“It ain’t that deep!” Beaver called back, now leaning on one foot to reach the old cap with a sewn on Scooby-Doo patch, it had been a gift from their good buddy Duddits. Beaver’d die before he let that thing get lost. 

“Maybe not for someone of a regular height, buddy!” Jonesy laughed, loudly. “The kiddie pool at Splash-town is too deep for you!” 

Beaver rolled his eyes fondly and held out his middle finger the whole journey outta the water until he came back to his friend, hat in hand. “Piss a penny, Jonesy.” He flicked some water off his hand and happily scampered off with his jacket & bag towards the front of the restaurant, moist hat back on his head. 

The afternoon sun was blazing golden beams down onto Derry with welcomed warmth and intensity. The Beav was practically melting in his motorcycle jacket but kept it on, nonetheless. You had to admire his strength because...

“That jacket must smell terrible.” Jonesy chuckled as he caught up to him next to the red fence with the giant painting of a pig. “How long have you been sweating in that thing now?” 

Beaver shrugged his shoulders. “Plus, it was Randy’s before so...think of all the Clarendon germs this baby’s covered in.” He pulled it tighter and just looked so damn happy in the piece of clothing that Jonesy had to smile. 

The two began to stroll away from the high-school hangout with their hands shoved into their pockets and book-bags still covering their backs like turtle shells. That wonderful feeling of relief from school was still washing over them as it did every weekday. It was a feeling like nothing else, in Jonesy’s experience. 

For his whole life, it meant that he’d get to spend the rest of the day with his buddies. Beaver, Pete, Henry & Douglas. 

There were no better people in the world than those you so desperately wanted to spend time with, that it’d drive you to hide in their homes when your mother came to pick you up. Jonesy couldn’t count the number of times Roberta Cavell had to deal with the three of them hiding in various places just to keep hanging with Duddits. 

“When we get to my house, I wanna go look for a spider in that...-dirty corner in my garage, y’know the one by our old refrigerator?” Beaver elbowed his friend on the arm and Jonesy broke free from his thoughts.

“Spider Corner™? Yeah, I remember.” He nodded as thoughts of chasing each other with the creepy crawlies in the palms of their hands ran through his brain. “What for?”

The Beav smirked. “Randy broke his bedroom door the other day and he can’t shut it or it’ll lock him inside, right?” His grin was classic Beaver and held it’s weight in Jonesy’s heart. “Well, he’ll be sitting in there so I figure...” He gestured with his hand which was still in his pocket. “I’ll grab a bug, throw it in & shut him inside. He’s freaky about spiders.” 

Jonesy giggled. “You should be nicer to your big brother, Beav.” He feigned a stern voice. 

“Jesus-Christ-bananas” He shook his head and smiled. “This is us being nice, Jonesy my boy. Clarendons show affection this way.” He flashed more teeth and hopped further down the sidewalk, over some chalk drawings. 

“Make sure you get one of those fuzzy little fuckers then. Really show him just how much you love him.” Jonesy laughed and broke out into a gentle run when Beaver went off in a laugh riot and sped to the speed of a child running to the swings at the playground.

                             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pete laid across the white sheets of his bed and enjoyed the sun shower that was breaking through the glass window and warming him up like a microwave meal. 

He’d just gotten out of a cold shower and the water dribbled down from a loose hair which streaked down his cheek like a tear. The bubble of liquid cradled his chin for a few seconds before rolling down his neck and pooling in his collarbone. Pete sighed with pure comfort and delicately turned his head from his lounge position and found his company. 

Henry, always the Moon’s melancholy child in Pete’s opinion, was curled up on the hardwood floor with a textbook open in his lap. It must’ve been Spanish or something of the sort because his brows were furrowed with frustration, an easily recognizable face for Pete who had trouble in a lot of subjects these days. “Two roads diverged in a snowy wood, is that how it goes? Something like that anyway” Henry mumbled to himself as he flipped pages. “I have no idea how to say that in Spanish.” He shoved the back off his lap. 

“I’m gonna fail this test and end up being the laughing-stock of 3rd period Spanish, Pete. How will I live with myself-?” Henry stood with exaggerated dramatics. He threw out his arms with annoyance before giving it up and yawning. “You want a hot-dog?”

Pete hid his grin in the crook of his elbow. “Yeah, sure.”

With that, Henry made his way downstairs to Pete’s kitchen to actually take the time to make them both hot-dog meals. He returned with a neutral grin and two plates full with the thick meal and bags of chips. 

“Oh, you meant an actual hot-dog?” Pete smirked. 

“Yeah, what did you think I-” Henry paused when his eyes found his friends smirk. “Oh.” He rolled his eyes and hopped onto the bed across from him. “Eat your food and we’ll see.” 

Pete took a large bite and enjoyed the way Henry shoved him. They talked mindlessly as they ate. Mostly dumb little things like why Pete didn’t have his planet printed sheets anymore and what they thought Beav & Jonesy were up to. 

Pete was in the middle of a story which required expressive gestures when Henry swallowed the last bit of his food and shot forward for the heated kind of neck-kiss which always began their dirty endeavors. Pete was knocked back a little but happily hummed. “I still have hot-dog in my mouth, asshole.” He mumbled. 

“Swallow it, maybe I’ll feel it go down.” Henry laughed as he continued to suck Pete’s neck. 

Pete broke into a laugh that might cause him to choke on that good ol’ thick dog. “You can be such a weird fucker, Henry.” He managed to croak out the words as he swallowed and tried not to moan. Henry kept kissing until the urge to laugh was too strong to hold back and Pete sighed like he’d just finished off the greatest meal in the world. 

Henry giggled and fell onto his friends chest and Pete blinked so slowly that it looked like he might just drift off into his pure joy. The boy he adored was laughing into his chest with genuine spark and appreciation of the moment. Henry deserved some carefree laughter because he could be such an asshole to himself...put way too much pressure on his shoulders. 

Pete dared to reach out and brush the tips of his fingers up and down Henry’s spine. “Can I talk to you about something-?”

Pete didn’t finish the sentence because Henry noticed something shining between the wall and the bed, he rolled off Pete and grabbed for it. It took all of Pete’s strength not to huff because he knew just what was coming. 

“Why is there two beer bottles shoved down there?” Henry waved the bottle around. “That damn Deli needs to stop letting this shit get to minors, Pete.” Henry now shook it under his friends nose. 

Pete glanced up for a second or two with a face tinged with annoyance. “People drink, Henry-”

“Yeah but you could at least wait until you’re twenty-one to have the drinking problem of a forty-year old, Pete.” Henry didn’t truly intend to be so cold or upfront but the his currently anxiety was enough to burn a small fire in his chest. 

Pete chuckled like it was no big deal and smiled. “I’ll probably be dead before I hit twenty-one anyway-”

Henry rolled the bottle onto the rug but desperately he wanted to chuck it out like he’d once done with big rocks by the lake with his best friends. “Don’t say things like that, asshole.”

Pete paused for a minute or two and rolled his lips together. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” He held up his hands in mock-surrender. “I know I’ve been a piece of work lately…”

Henry thought about making a joke to lighten the mood but decided against. Rather, he finally loosened a bit and turned as best he could to face this boy who was far better than this. Surprising both of them, he reached over to brush some of his wet hair back. 

“And I don’t admit to that…like ever. So, take it while you can.” Pete stole a joke and laughed lightly. But both of them knew he was not too happy and both of them were worried.

“It’s not comforting when you talk like you despise yourself, y’know?” Henry blinked. That comment hadn’t been one of Pete’s worst in the last week nor was it even close to how Henry talked to himself these days. But it sure wasn’t warm. 

It was hard to ignore the man’s self-deprecating attitude which appeared whenever the topic of drinking came up. And none of his friends would ever want to ignore it. In all honesty, it was deeply unsettling but not uncommon to hear the other man talk like that. As long as he’d known him, Pete put on a front that he was some confident man. It was so smooth and effortless that it was entirely convincing. Hearing him crack jokes and smirk at his own extroverted personality gave the illusion that it wasn’t stemming from insecurity. 

Henry quickly saw through the facade because it wasn’t all that different from what he did.

“Like you’re any better.” Pete countered him and Henry leaned back as if slightly blown away by the little gasp he let out. “You’ve casually hated yourself for months now.” Pete’s voice was soft but fully believing of his statement, as if not realizing how hard-hitting that accusation was. But it came from genuine concern and familiarity. Henry’s stomach twisted. 

The air between them turned a little spoiled and thick. Neither man knew how to move on from the subject. “I'd like to talk with you. And I mean, I'd like to really talk with you.” Pete sat up and leaned against his wall. Henry nodded and crossed his legs. 

“How close are we?” Pete asked and Henry smiled despite the odd mood change between them.

“The closest friends can be.” He gently thumped his friends leg but Pete just swallowed. 

“What do I mean to you?” He blurted his insecurity right then and there in question form. It would have been nice to see the multiple choice bubbles Henry had in his mind, picking one to fill-in.

"What do you mean to me?” Henry repeated. "Pete, you're my best friend. The five of us are...something else, man.” He looked concerned and a little confused as he answered.  

“I know, man. And I - I know -...I know I'm your friend. And that’s a great thing. It’s just-” Pete looked away again and rolled his lips together. “But...three years of...?” He gestured between the two of them. “Do you...? I mean because I-...”

Henry blinked and felt any words he could possibly say get stuck in his throat. 

“I think I kinda...y’know?” Pete looked absolutely miserable yet semi-hopeful. 

Henry almost choked on his own spit at the sentiment he hadn’t ever expected to bloom. He supposed feelings developed in situations like theirs but...he had never thought about it that way, himself. But looking at Pete’s sincere eyes...well for once it made him think about it. 

“I-...I love you. I mean, all of you guys but you...Henry -” Pete frowned and picked at his shoe. “I dunno...I don’t expect anything from you. It’s fine, Henry. Really. I can go right back to being Norman Normal.” he spoke because the silence was driving him crazy. 

Pete glanced down at the empty beer bottle and suddenly wished it was full and going at rocket-speed down his throat. He shrugged and pretended he was on the fucking moon. "It doesn't have to change anything," he said, not sure if he was pleading or promising.

"You – you love me," Henry pointed out, with a neutral face "How can that not change anything?"

Pete let out a bitterly amused chuckle. “It hasn’t changed anything in three years, Henry.” He rolled his eyes and leaned off the bed to pick up the bottle and twirl it in his hands just to have something do. 

“All that time-?” Henry’s face turned into concern which only seemed to trigger annoyance in Pete. It actually looked like he’d kicked Henry in the gut or something. The comment made him flinch...actually flinch. “I feel like such an asshole.” 

Leave it to Henry to take the responsibility. Pete softened. “I wouldn’t love ya if you were an asshole, pal.” He bumped the tip of the brown bottle against Henry’s thigh and tried to give him a grin worthy of taking Beaver’s best smile title. 

Henry only looked sadder. Shouldering a man’s love for you was a responsibility and would be difficult if you just weren’t sure how you felt. 

                             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“BEAVER! Get down! That thing is so fucking old.” Jonesy shouted into his cupped hands and tried to stare up at his friend who was currently standing atop the roof of his garage. He was burning through all of his after-school energy with spark. Jonesy couldn’t think of a better way to spend his day. 

The Beav was what filled the holes in each of their hearts, he was the rock and roll playing on their radios. Beaver was probably the first great love of each of their lives...at least, it felt that way to Jonesy who’d loved him since the kiddie school days.

The day was beginning to dwindle into the latest afternoon, the sky looking like burnt toast. Beaver was looking down at his friend with pure energy and sincere admiration. He felt like a kid again, after a long day of rolling around in the grass. 

Randy hadn’t been happy about today’s activities and vowed to get Beaver back for the damn spider but he couldn’t be bothered. “Kiss my bender, Jonesy. Get your scaredy-cat ass up here or piss fire!” He laughed madly and Jonesy felt amusement flow through his body though he wasn’t quite sure what that one meant. 

He took to climbing the side of the garage and tumbled atop the flat roof next to Beaver, who was now laying on his back with heavy breaths.

Unbeknownst to his friend, Beaver turned his mind to dreams of driving down a large scenic street. The radio playing loudly and Jonesy sitting in the passenger seat, probably rattling on about some horror movie he saw. Beaver would have to turn the radio down to listen but he wouldn’t mind in the slightest. 

He rolled his tooth-pick to the other side of his mouth and when Jonesy smiled-....Beaver opened his lips slightly as he admired but the wooden stick instantly shot down Beav’s throat.

He sat up and started cough his guts out, hoping to fuckin’ God, Jesus or John Lennon...whoever was listening...that he’d eventually see the stick in the pool of spittle. 

He cradled his neck in his hands and tried to shoot the damn painful thing out. It finally tore free when Jonesy thumped his back and the pointy little asshole flew over the roof and somewhere onto the grass below. “Bitch-in-a-buzzsaw, I almost just fuckin’ died!” He keeled over with laughter and desperately held onto the little wall in front of them. 

Jonesy burst into giggles too and tried not to do that little wheezy-whistle laugh that sometimes escaped his lips when he laughed too hard. But Beaver hoped to John Lennon that he’d slip it out. “Oh, but to die in your arms is such a heavenly thought, Gariella.” Beaver leaned back into his friend with dramatics very familiar to him. 

Jonesy shoved him off and laughed even harder. “You should be so lucky, Beav. The last thing you’d get to see on this earth is this.” He gestured to his face and feigned a flashy smile. 

“I’d love that.” Beaver winked and felt his heartbeat pick-up speed. Jonesy stood and held out a hand to help his friend without second thought.

When Beaver was pulled up, he found that Jonesy did not let go of his hand and instead started to swing their grip with blissful comfort. He blushed. He’d been feeling a mixture of things recently and a whole lotta something for Jonesy. But he just didn’t see it coming to fruition. But this was...something? Wasn’t it? Maybe his friend was just worried he would go tipping off the side of the roof which could be a possibility, knowing himself. 

“Is this a thing we do now, hold hands?” Beaver asked with a smug, teasing tone because he brought attention to things when he was nervous.

Jonesy looked back at him and rolled his eyes. “Nothing gets past you, Beav.” He chuckled and put-on a face that seemingly only he could pull-off. Half-bothered, half-amused.

Beaver didn’t verbally respond and instead opted to smack the back of his friends head gently with his right hand. 

“You always cheer me up, man.” Jonesy sighed with happy relief when they climbed down and sat back in the grass.

“You needed some cheering up? From what?” He narrowed his eyes but Jonesy only shrugged. 

“Just life sometimes. We’re Seniors - minus Pete - and the world is waiting for us to make something of it. Very stressful but you always got something to make the day better. I love ya for that.” Jonesy happily leaned his head on his friends shoulder but Beav found a deep sort of depression in his gut. It was not the kind of love confession he wanted...and the job was a difficult one...

Shouldering the happiness for his friend was quite the responsibility and sometimes it just got hard for Beaver when his own feelings got confusing.