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the first time is when it’s february in new york and the skies equate to watercolor paints with far too much water and not enough paint, washing out that atmospheric beauty cole admires a little too much and tinting new york a bleak, dull gray. and it reflects off the skyscrapers and off shop windows; cole’s been to new york enough times that the wonder of such a big city was lost on him, especially on days like this, but dalton’s been to new york just as much and he’s still swept up in that ideology that it’s the greatest city in the world.
he keeps looking at everything. his eyes burst color through the gray, but his eyes burst color through even the bluest skies and days representing “perfect,” and he keeps doing this thing where he’ll look at fifty million things and then always look back at cole like he’s seeking some kind of approval or recognition for having functioning eyes.
cole wears glasses sometimes.
“why can’t we ever come to new york when it’s warm?” will chirps up from behind them and cole can’t agree more. they always seem to have business in the north east when it’s stuck in perpetual winter (even if it’s only the valid winter seasons so it really isn’t perpetual at all; cole has a knack for theatrics and narrating his thoughts as though his life will be the next big thing like gossip girl. he’s from texas.).
“are you really complaining about going to new york?” dalton challenges him. his voice rises in pitch to exemplify his shock that will jay could ever say such a thing.
“i’m not complaining, i’m wondering aloud. i was about to have a sick monologue until you ruined it.” will retorts, eyebrows raised in some attempt at a fighting look.
“you’re not asian hamlet, will.” and they’re off again in some weird argument with even weirder comebacks that cole assumes all come from tumblr considering those two never fucking got off the damn website. cole’s more of a twitter guy.
they bicker until the boys reach times square, all desperate to go in different directions chasing different things. for dana, his is a girl heading into forever 21, and he drags gabe and will off, almost getting cole in the process but dalton decides to have his doctor who moment and grabs cole’s hand, whispering “run.”
“oh i see how it is!” is all they hear dana shout from behind them as cole follows dalton through the maze of people and thanking whatever deities lie in the atmosphere and beyond that it’s eleven in the morning on a weekday and, while new york is always full, it’s considerably less so than if they were to stand in the same spot at four in the afternoon.
dalton leads him to the disney store, predictably, because his favorite place in all of new york city is the fucking disney store (“except for that chinese food place, cole!”). it’s surprisingly empty, only a couple of shoppers wandering around the first floor and maybe a handful more on the second; they’re heading upstairs because of the princess shit, cole knows it, because of frozen and dalton “fucking needs an olaf, man, you don’t even know.”
cole spots a pink bear, the one from toy story and cole can’t remember his name but cole remembers that he should smell like strawberries, so dalton turns mid-sentence to find cole with a faceful of pink teddy bear. “what the hell are you doing,” it’s not even a question, more like an accusation as dalton’s lips turn upward smirking at cole. like cole hasn’t caught him doing weird shit with stuffed animals before.
cole just shrugs. “it smells like strawberries.”
“that thing can smell good all it wants, but he’s a bitch who got my boy woody stuck in an inferno.” dalton states, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and then he raises his eyebrow at cole embodying horrible betrayal that cole would even pick the bear up.
“it’s not even real, loser.” cole shoves the teddy bear towards dalton who recoils from it, almost tripping over his own feet in his desperate escape from the evil motherfucking pink bear from toy story three. dalton grabs his own weapon- a mulan doll- and wields it towards cole basically declaring battle.
“mulan took down the huns and saved all of china. lotso’s no match for her.” and with that look, that smirk on his lips as he holds out the doll towards cole, it’s like he’s daring cole to make the next move in the middle of the disney store and get them thrown out.
or maybe it’s all a euphemism because cole crowds dalton into a corner, dalton’s back to the multicolored wall and his elbow jammed against a shelf of stuffed animals while he holds mulan against his chest and cole has lotso tucked in the sliver of space between him and dalton, and dalton’s looking at him again daring him to move, but not away, no, never away.
and they’re standing so close to each other that if cole dipped his head just a couple of inches, he could kiss him, and it’s not like the thought’s never crossed his mind before. and he can. because no one is stopping him. he can totally kiss dalton right now.
dalton’s tongue flicks across his lips.
cole’s eyes follow it.
a small child runs by.
and the moment’s completely ruined; all the tension rushes away like air from a balloon and cole steps back, lets dalton move, and they’re both staring a little too hard at the toys in their hands.