Chapter Text
It was fucking cold.
The type of cold that made your fingertips burn and your breath fog in front of you and your eyes sting. And so, Isak asked himself for the fifth time that night, why the hell was he sat outside in below zero temperatures, when he could be inside, in his bed, in the warm ?
The answer was Jonas, who was often the reason for many of Isak’s problems. Jonas was an avid skateboarder; he’d spend every waking moment on his board if he could, and since today he hadn’t had time in between classes to practice, he’d decided to make his way to the deserted skate park just as the sun was setting. As always, he’d dragged Isak along with him too.
Isak couldn’t say no to Jonas, and Jonas knew it; they had been best friends since they were toddlers, and they did everything together. They knew each other inside out, because they’d been through everything together. Isak told Jonas everything (well, maybe not everything, but Isak was working on that, maybe), and Jonas in turn trusted Isak completely.
Which is why Isak had been convinced to sit in the freezing cold for over an hour whilst Jonas fucked about on his stupid skateboard, grumbling in frustration when he kept landing on his back after trying the same trick four times over, and whooping and yelling up to the sky when he finally got it. Isak had been tagging along with Jonas to the skatepark since they were twelve years old, and back then Isak then had tried to join in, but quickly gave that up after a sprained wrist when he flew down one of the ramps at high speed and thought it smart to try and use his hands to block his fall. Isak preferred to be a spectator anyway, and he actually found his own hobby in watching Jonas and their other friends boarding.
It started with Jonas asking Isak to film him when he tried out something new, and it turned out that Isak had quite the knack for it. Isak was good at framing it just right, with the sun spilling out from just behind Jonas’ figure, or keeping the camera rolling to catch Jonas’ stupid little victory dance he always did. Isak started to take photos too - he saved up and bought himself a decent camera for his fourteenth birthday, and practiced taking photos of whatever caught his eye. He took pictures of the sky, of his friends huddled together laughing, of his mother’s hands clasped around a mug, with white knuckles and bitten nails. He took pictures of his friends skating the most - that was what he was best at.
So, there Isak was, sat in the cold, half heartedly snapping photos of Jonas, with the orange glow of the skyline sitting behind Jonas’ silhouette, and his hoodie billowing out behind him.
“Can we go yet?” Isak called exasperatedly, smiling as he looked through his photos and realised he’d caught the exact moment Jonas had misjudged and ended up tumbling face first, with his board landing on his head as he hit the floor. He’d definitely be posting that online later - his revenge for being made to sit out in the cold for another night. Couldn’t Jonas have picked something to obsess over that they could do inside?
Jonas growled in frustration again, and Isak looked up just in time to see him crash to the floor for the umpeenth time that night.
“In a minute,” Jonas replied eventually. He’d told Isak ‘in a minute’ at least twenty times now.
“Let me jus- urgh. Let me just get this right and then we can go. I’ll buy you a coffee after if it’ll shut you up.”
Isak fell quiet at that. He’d like to say like bribery didn’t work on him, but that would be a lie, plus, he could kill for a coffee right now - even if only just to warm his frostbitten fingers.
Jonas stood at the edge and took a few deep breaths, balancing himself, and Isak knew his cue - he set his camera to record and held it up to Jonas. The sun had almost gone now, but the licks of red that were still peeking over the horizon made Jonas look like he was glowing a little; the red in perfect contrast to his dark hair and clothes.
Jonas messed up whatever it was he was trying to do three more times before he finally got it, and when he did, he ended up laid flat on his back in the middle of the bowl with his arms splayed out at his sides, laughter bubbling out, sending puffs of freezing air from his lips and into the night sky.
Isak caught a shot of that too, before reminding Jonas that he owed him coffee, and if he didn’t get it within the next five minutes, he was going to turn into an ice cube.
*
They sat in silence in the coffee shop for a while, their shoulders hunched over their mugs as they breathed in the warmth of their drinks and tried to thaw out. There weren’t many people left in the shop, just a few regulars sat in their respective corners, reading books or frantically writing overdue essays.
“Bad news. I didn’t get that last shot, the one where you got it right,” Isak mumbled into his coffee.
Jonas’ jaw dropped and he slammed his cup down with enough force that his drink splashed out over the rim and onto the table.
“Oh my god, you have got to be kidding me,” Jonas wailed, putting his head in his hands.
Isak snorted and rolled his eyes, taking a tentative sip of his own drink and wincing when it burnt his tongue.
“Of course I’m kidding, idiot. You’re so dramatic.”
Jonas took his hands off his face to reach forward and bat the side of Isak’s head. He was scowling, but Isak could see the hint of a smile as he let out a sigh of relief and relaxed back into his chair.
“Asshole. I thought I was going to have to drag us both back there to see if I could miraculously do it again.”
“You’d be going on your own. No way would I be going back there to freeze even more than I already have,” Isak grumbled, taking the cookie he’d bought and snapping it in half.
Jonas took the half of the cookie that Isak offered to him, grinning.
“I always need my camera-man with me. You’d come back with me and you know it.”
Isak rolled his eyes again, but he knew Jonas was right.
*
“Bro! I saw your video from last night. So you finally did it?”
Magnus and Mahdi, the other pair in the group that made up Isak’s small, but very loyal, group of friends, skated like Jonas did. Magnus has only been doing it for a year and was still a little wobbly, but Mahdi was almost as good as Jonas was, and they often competed over who could show-off the most; it almost always ended in some sort of injury.
Magnus and Mahdi greeted them with wide smiles and high fives that morning as they all walked into school together, chatting excitedly about Jonas’ latest video. Jonas had gotten into a routine of posting Isak’s videos and photos online, and both he and Isak had gained quite a following from it. Jonas was well known amongst the people who frequented the skate park, and even those that didn’t - he was good at what he did, and he was recognised for it.
“Hey, have you heard about that new guy that just transferred here? I heard he’s an awesome skater. Maybe even better than you, Jonas!” Magnus crowed.
Jonas’ face darkened and Mahdi reached around Isak to pinch Magnus’ shoulder. They all knew who Magnus was talking about - a new guy had transferred to Nissen for his final year, and since exciting things didn’t tend to happen in their school, he’d been the hot topic for weeks now.
He was hard to not notice, really. He was absurdly tall, so he towered over most, and not only was he striking in appearance - with his hair styled in a way that might look ridiculous on others but not him, and his piercing eyes and stupidly pretty face (Isak had not been staring). But he also had this aura about him, one that made people flood to him. He had the brightest of smiles, the kind of smile that was infectious, and an air of almost arrogance about him, a confidence that made Isak shrink down a little whenever he was around him.
Jonas had decided straight away that he hated the new guy, because it just happened to be that this guy could skate too. Magnus was right - he was maybe, kind of, a little bit better than Jonas was.
Isak and Jonas had both watched him, a little bit in awe, one day when he’d turned up with the regular group of third years. Everyone around him had stopped to watch, and Isak remembered wondering how someone that tall and gangly could look so balanced and in control. Isak could feel Jonas bristle beside him as they had watched, and Isak hadn’t been aware that Jonas had an ego up until that exact point.
“He’s not even that good,” Jonas replied petulantly, and both Isak and Mahdi snorted.
“You keep telling yourself that, buddy,” Mahdi chuckled.
*
Isak wished for the hundredth time that his stupid friends could just be normal so that he could go home and bundle himself in his duvet and re-watch Breaking Bad again, instead of spending all of his spare time outside in a pathetic excuse for a skate park.
It wasn’t so bad in summer, they got to laze around and smoke and drink with music flowing around them - Isak capturing the way the sun pooled on their skin and lightened their eyes - staying out until it got dark, making the most of the lighter nights.
Winter, however, was awful, and Isak was bundled up in so many layers that he couldn’t move right, with his beanie pulled as far down as it would go, and his scarf pulled up high, so only his eyes could be seen.
Not so many people came to the skate park in winter - in summer it was teeming with people, all sat around the edges of the bowl or perched on top of the walls that surrounded the park. But in winter the only ones who visited frequently were the die-hards, like Jonas, or their idiot best friends, like Isak.
Magnus made a screeching noise before dropping himself off one of the ramps, wobbling rather haphazardly before managing to steady himself and grinning as widely as though he’d just broke some sort of world record. Mahdi and Jonas were competing again, Mahdi shoving at Jonas as they passed each other, making Jonas veer off and shout a stream of curse words in Mahdi’s direction. Isak caught a few photos of his grinning friends, curling his gloved hands around his camera and burying his face further down into his scarf.
The third year boys turned up and called out greetings to Isak and his friends. Music was pouring out from one of the boy’s phones, and Jonas excitedly greeted all of them, until his eyes fell on the new guy, and his face visibly dropped. Isak rolled his eyes at his friend before going back to fiddling with the settings on his camera, cursing at how much more difficult it was wearing gloves, but not difficult enough to convince him to lose the only things that were stopping his fingers from turning black and falling off from the cold.
Someone sat down beside Isak and bumped into his shoulder, making him press the wrong button. He cursed under his breath and turned to scowl at whoever just made him reset his whole stupid camera, before he realised who it was.
The guy, that guy, had settled himself down beside Isak and was hunched over whilst he struggled to spark his lighter enough to get a flame in in the stiff wind that was whipping Isak’s cheeks and numbing his nose. Eventually he got it, lighting the joint balanced between his lips before he turned, lifting his eyebrows and taking a drag. He held the joint out to Isak then, who took it dumbly, his eyes not leaving the guy's face.
Isak took a drag himself and revelled at the way it warmed his chest a little, before handing it back with a cautious smile.
“You don’t skate?” The guy asked, bumping into Isak’s shoulder again.
Isak shook his head and huffed a laugh.
“No. I’m a danger to myself and everyone around me when I try,” replied Isak, coaxing out a low chuckle from the boy sat beside him.
“I’ve seen your photos, the ones you post - you’re good. You have a good eye for it,” he said, pointing to the camera Isak was clutching.
Isak shrugged and ducked his head. Plenty of people had complimented him on his photos, Isak definitely shouldn’t be blushing right now.
“Even!” someone called, making Isak jump. So that was his name. Isak mouthed it to himself when Even’s head snapped up to his friends.
“Are you joining us?” the guy called. Isak could see Jonas keeping his eyes firmly on the floor whilst he rolled around idly on the flat surface for a while.
Even told his friends that he’d join them soon, before settling back in his seat. He was almost uncomfortably close to Isak - their shoulders were touching and knees knocking together, and Isak wondered why he wasn’t making the most of the space on the bench - which would usually be full of supportive girlfriends or disgruntled injured friends. Admittedly, Isak was a little grateful for Even’s body warmth seeping into his side, so instead of saying something he settled into it, hoping it would finally stop his teeth chattering.
They passed the joint back and forth and watched their friends in front of them, Isak’s camera long forgotten on his lap. Isak didn’t miss the glances that Jonas shot his way, and apparently, neither did Even.
“Your friend really hates me, doesn’t he?” Even asked eventually, tapping his foot on the top of Isak’s so softly that Isak wondered if it was an accident.
Isak laughed and looked over to Jonas, who was still glaring in their direction over Mahdi’s shoulder.
“Nah. He just...doesn’t like new stuff,” Isak said weakly. It wasn’t exactly a lie - Jonas hated change, and Even was a change, a change who was better at the thing Jonas had worked so hard to be good at than he was.
“I didn’t mean to intrude on anything,” Even said quietly, almost shyly, Isak thought.
“It’s cool you have a place like this here, I never knew it existed ‘till I moved to Nissen.”
“You’re not intruding, and he’ll get over it,” Isak shrugged. Jonas would get over it, eventually. Jonas didn’t hold grudges, and he was happy to change his opinion if someone gave him a good enough reason to do so.
Even and Isak stayed side by side, sharing stories and Even’s cigarette, whilst their friends worked hard to outdo each other, shouting light hearted insults to one another, and letting out a chorus of cheers whenever someone fell down.
It turned out that Even was into movies, and he gushed to Isak about how the colours in films could affect the entire mood of it. That was why he liked Isak’s photos so much, he said, because the colours were always so vibrant that it was easy to tell exactly what he and his friends were feeling in that moment. They talked about music, and Even typed out a list of artists that Isak should listen to into Isak’s phone, as well as a couple of movies he had to watch too.
“You’ve never seen a Wes Anderson film before?” Even asked incredulously, his eyebrows knitting together.
“I’ve never even heard of him, I’m sure you’re making the names of these people up,” Isak shrugged.
Even threw his head back and laughed at that, his face scrunching up as he did, and Isak completely forgot about how cold he’d been just minutes before.
They were huddled together in a cloud of smoke, the weed making Isak’s head feel fuzzy and his lungs heavy, but the more he and Even talked, the more he could feel the tension ebb away and seep out of his muscles.
Isak mostly listened to Even talk, nodding and making encouraging noises whenever he needed to. Even’s eyes sparked whenever he talked about something he was really passionate about (which was a lot of things, Isak found), and Isak thought absently that Even could be telling Isak about the different types of rocks, and Isak would still find it fascinating.
Something tugged at Isak’s heart whenever their hands accidentally brushed or when Isak caught Even staring at him, but he quickly stamped that down - he liked girls , or at least, as as far as his friends were aware he did. They didn’t need to know how much every hook-up made his skin crawl and his throat feel tight.
Even was just...interesting. He was endearing and striking, and despite the air of confidence and pride Even carried around with his friends, he had a softness about him. Even hung onto every word Isak said, and made sure to prompt Isak with kind smiles, bumping into his shoulder or nudging their feet together. Even had a lot of dreams, a lot of ideas that seemed to run through his head as such a speed that he couldn’t get them out of his mouth fast enough. Isak was kind of envious - he didn’t have any aspirations, he just wanted to get through his school year in one piece.
“What do you want to do? Once you leave school, I mean,” said Even, moving himself so that he sat at one end of the bench, back against the armrest and legs sprawled out so that his feet were almost touching Isak’s thigh.
Isak turned himself around too, and Even curled his legs up closer to his chest to make room. Isak shrugged as he mirrored Even’s position, hugging his knees.
“Haven’t really thought about it. Maybe something to do with the sciences. Biology, probably. You?”
“I want to be a movie director,” replied Even, his eyes gleaming as he said it.
“So you want to be the next...Wes...whatever his name is?”
Even’s face cracked into a grin and he laughed quietly, nodding.
“I guess so. I like the idea of being in control, of creating something where you can decide what happens, when it happens.”
Isak hummed in response, suddenly noticing how dark it had gotten around them. Even had stayed and talked to Isak the whole time, despite his friends trying to get him to join them. Isak was sure that time had sped up somehow - it felt as though he’d only greeted Even a few minutes ago, when in reality, it had been hours.
When Jonas, Mahdi, and Magnus jogged over to Even and Isak, red faced and grinning, letting Isak know that they were leaving, Isak couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. He said a goodbye to Even, after Magnus and Mahdi had clapped Even on the shoulder and chatted excitedly to him for a while, whilst Jonas had hovered around in the background with a plastic smile slapped on his face. Even gave one last nod and a soft smile to Isak, and their fingers brushed as Even handed Isak his phone back.
Isak barely felt the bitter cold on the walk back to his flat.