Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Life was a funny thing. One moment, everything was going well, the next you were a gay teen kissing some girl at a Halloween party. At least that was the case for Bram at this precise moment. How did this happen? He could probably pinpoint several good places to begin this semi-tragic tale—his sexual awakening when he first watched Game of Thrones, his nerve-wracking decision to post his confession on Creek Secrets, his even more nerve-wracking decision to reply to the mysterious Jacques, or even the more recent decision to throw a Halloween party. But what good was ruminating on where to start if it didn't lend any clarity to the situation he was currently in?

Right. Bram. A gay boy. Making out with a girl.

It wasn't bad really. She clearly had some experience, and she was making it enjoyable, but it just wasn't quite right. And yet here he was, suddenly realizing that he was definitely not bi. (Had that been the reason he'd tried this?) It took his rational brain a few seconds to work through his drunken stupor and realize that perhaps if he wasn't enjoying the kissing he should do something to stop it. He pulled his head away and pushed her away the slightest bit.

"Something wrong?"

Bram shook his head. "No, no, it's," he cleared his throat, "It’s good… I'm just feeling kinda weird." He winced slightly in preparation of what he was about to say. "Maybe… you should go."

Almost immediately he saw annoyance wash over her face. "Seriously?"

"No, I just mean like, enjoy the party." The girl nodded her head skeptically. "It's just I feel like I'm about to throw up or something and I don't want you to remember this as the night some dude threw up on you." It was a white lie. He was pretty drunk after the night's festivities, but not so drunk that he was about to throw up. She shook her head, but at least she didn’t look suspicious.

"Okay. Find me later if you change your mind." She walked out of the room, turning around to give one last look that somehow struck a balance between disappointed, annoyed, and flirty. He sighed and put his head in his hands. What am I doing? He realized only now that one of the reasons he felt so weird about the kissing was that it felt like… kinda like… almost like he was cheating on Jacques. But we're not dating. We don't even know each other, in real life anyway. We’re basically just secret pen pals. And I want it to stay that way. So why do I feel so bad about it?

"Everything… okay in here?" Bram looked up. Simon Spier stood in the doorway. He hadn't even heard Simon come in. "I mean, I just saw some girl walk out of here… and-and I thought this was the restroom." Bram grinned.

"No, no, it's fine." Simon nodded as he stood awkwardly in the doorway. He looked away as if about to go, but something inside Bram caused him to call out.

"Come on, sit with me." Simon looked at him, confused, but closed the door behind himself. He walked over and sat at the edge of the bed next to Bram.

"So, you sure everything's okay?"

"Yeah. It's just… girls. You know?" He hoped the chuckle that followed this statement sounded casual and breezy, not forced and deceptive. Judging by the way Simon chuckled along, he succeeded.

"Yeah…" The two sat there in silence for several moments. He and Simon had hung out for a fair amount of the party, and it was pretty fun. Simon wasn't in his immediate friend group, but he did consider him a close friend. They often sat at the same table during lunch, and he was a lot friendlier with Simon than he was with most people. They would often exchange glances of exasperation during classes. "…Care to elaborate further or are we just gonna sit here in silence like a couple of dumbasses?" Bram couldn't help but laugh at that. Simon was good at making people laugh.

"I mean, there's not much to elaborate on. I just… I just don't understand girls."

"Well, that makes two of us." The two shared another bout of light laughter. And then suddenly and without warning, Bram's laughter became wistful until it faded entirely. He felt his smile fall as it turned into a frown. He wasn't sure why he was suddenly sad. He definitely did not want to suddenly be sad. He had no reason to suddenly be sad. Yet here he was, feeling like he was hiding from his own party. On top of the world one second, rock bottom the next.

"Hey, really, what's the matter?" He turned to look at Simon, who was now looking over, concerned. "You know you can tell me stuff."

Bram offered a somewhat bitter smirk. "I thought guys weren't allowed to talk about their feelings."

Simon looked at him, a bemused tilt to his lips. "I thought being drunk was the one time we're allowed to express them."

"Shit. Got me there." He allowed himself a moment to smile back at Simon, a metaphorical pause before getting into real emotional shit with him. "I dunno, man. It's like…sometimes I feel like I'm one of those people who's just destined to be alone, ya know? Like, there's nobody out there for me. I'm always either gonna be too much of something or not enough. And I know we're young and shit, and that men aren't really supposed to give a shit about dating or finding someone but… I dunno, I think about it a lot, like I'm in a rush to be in a relationship with someone which is stupid and overdramatic but…" He trailed off, unable to figure out where his sentence was supposed to go. He wasn't sure why he was telling Simon all of this. He hadn't even realized just how much he thought about it until that moment.

"Well to be a teenager is to be stupid and overdramatic, so I think you're good on that front." Bram smiled at this. "And I get fantasizing over a relationship, but I think you're worrying a lot over nothing."

"Oh yeah? How do you figure?"

"Anybody would be lucky to be with you. I mean, you have a great personality, you're athletic, you're charismatic, kind, and considerate, you're just, like, chill and so much fun to be around. Someone's gonna love you, mark my words." Simon's smile wasn't playful or humorous anymore, it was genuine. And it made Bram feel good.

"Ya think?"

"Of course. If anyone should be worried about being alone it's me."

"What?" He almost had to laugh. Simon was worried about being alone? "What about Abby? Or Leah?"

"Well, Abby's cool and everything but, you know, she and Nick…" Bram nodded. "And Leah…she's awesome, but she's my best friend. She's like a sister to me. I just feel like nobody would really like me that way I guess?" Although Bram could relate, hearing Simon say it out loud made the whole thing sound ridiculous. Simon cleared his throat, smiling. "I mean, if I had even a fraction of your good looks I'd never have to worry about someone finding me attractive again. But then there's my personality, which is just kind of a tactless mess. Almost like my personality is a bunch of bad traits just stacked on top of each other, wrapped in a trench coat and pretending to be somewhat vaguely normal." Bram laughed at the half-baked metaphor, partially because it was a funny mental image but mostly because it just seemed like the most inaccurate statement Simon could make about himself.

"Don't sell yourself short there, Si. You got a lot more going on under that trench coat than you think." Simon seemed like he was about to contradict, but Bram refused to let him get a word in. "You're funny, almost to a fault. Seriously, you can find humor in almost any situation, you laugh at anybody's jokes and people love you for it. You're incredibly friendly and approachable, you pretty much invited Abby into your friend group with open arms. And to that point, you're loyal. You're really loyal to your friends, I legit don't think I've seen anyone more dedicated to their friends the way you are." At this, Bram noticed a nearly imperceptible shift in Simon's expression. It almost seemed like… guilt? Almost likehe was hiding something. Bram quickly moved on from the topic.

"And while you may not have my devastatingly good looks," Simon rolled his eyes as Bram said this, "You’re attractive in your own right." Simon scoffed. "I'm serious, people like the way you look. You strike the perfect balance between, like, this adorable protective brother look and this apathetic ex-punk guy who probably rides a motorcycle." Simon burst into laughter. Bram was somewhat embarrassed that he had spent so much time thinking about exactly what Simon looked like. He'd decided some time ago that Simon was probably the most attractive of his friends. Garrett wasn't bad looking by any means, but he was Bram's best friend and he knew nothing would change that. Nick was pretty good looking too, but there was something about Simon that made him stand out amongst the other guys he sat with at lunch.

"Ex-pop punk guy," Simon corrected through laughter. Bram nodded with a smile.

"Right, right. You were into Panic! for a while there." As the laughter subsided, Bram smiled and looked back over at Simon. "But seriously. You're a good-looking guy, Si."

Simon nodded and looked down at his hands. "I know we're manly men," he said in a deep voice and making Bram snicker, "Or whatever, but… could we not 'no homo' this conversation? Because like… that gave me a much-needed confidence boost."

Bram nodded. "Yeah, ok. I feel the same way, Si." Simon giggled. The two had been doing a lot of that this evening.

"What's so funny?"

Simon shrugged. "I dunno. I just feel like you don't call me 'Si' all that often, but right now it's like every other sentence."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Simon Spier." He said, sarcastically. He paused a second in realization. "Wow. That is an unfortunately alliterative name."

"Oh, trust me, that's not even the half of it. Ask me what it means sometime." Bram noticed Simon fiddling with his hands. "But, uh… I like it when you call me Si."

Bram smiled at him. "I'll keep that in mind. Si." Simon looked up at him with an enigmatic expression. He was smiling, but his eyes looked worried. If he hadn't been concerned he almost would've found the look adorable.

"Bram are… are you…?" Bram tilted his head. Simon seemed to want to ask him something important but he couldn't tell what he might want to say. He just smiled back hoping to be friendly and approachable. Without warning, Simon leaned forward and suddenly his lips were on Bram's lips. In the few moments they remained like that, Bram couldn't figure out how the fuck to react. So he didn't. He let it happen, seemingly unaware of the moment that was bound to happen the second that what was happening right now stopped happening.

And then it stopped happening.

Simon abruptly pulled back. Bram quickly scanned his face and could only see one thing: pure panic.

"Oh no." Simon's voice was barely a whisper. If he hadn't been just a few inches from his face, Bram might not have heard it.

"Dude, what…?" He hadn't expected this from Simon. He doubted anyone would've expected this from Simon. But in hindsight it made sense. He never really talked about girls, and he’d never really had a serious girlfriend. Bram couldn’t even remember the last time that Simon had even had a date.

"Oh my god. Shit." Simon covered his face with his hands, embarrassed. "I'm so fucking sorry. I thought you were…" Gay? He'd considered coming out before. He'd backed out every time. But the alcohol, the friendly, accepting presence of Simon, the sudden kiss—everything was leaning toward a more "fuck it" kind of attitude. If Simon was gay too then maybe they could come out to each other, together. Hell, they could be together. Who knew what could happen.

"Simon…"

"I thought you were Blue." Bram's heart stopped. There was only one person who called him that. Jacques.

Of course. It made sense. Everything he knew about Jacques lined up with what he'd known about Simon for years. Mother, father, little sister. How had he forgotten Nora had become a chef-in-training? Two friends he'd known all his life—Leah and Nick—and one he'd only just met—obviously Abby. Shouldn't he have noticed the connection between Jacques's sexual awakening with Brenden Urie and Simon's former love for Panic! at the Disco? How had he missed all of this? Had he really missed all of the clues? Had he just been blind to what was right in front of him? He knew Jacques had been interested in actually meeting, and he couldn't blame him for that, but he wasn't ready, it was… he just wasn't. And he'd told Simon about the Halloween Oreos. How could he have been that careless? Jacques—Simon—had been actively looking for him. Of course he had. Is that why he had been looking at him during that test? He had thought—well, he thought his thinking had been wishful.

He snapped back to reality, to Simon who was sitting right next to him having just revealed himself as Jacques, who must have a million different thoughts running through his own thoughts. To the choice he had to make: admit to being Blue, to everything, or deny the hell out of everything.

And he still wasn't ready to come out to anybody.

"…Blue?" Bram asked, feigning confusion.

"Oh my god. I'm so embarrassed." As he said this Bram realized the one flaw with his plan. If I deny everything I get out of this but Simon doesn't. Fuck. What do I do? He had to help Simon. Give him a way out of it. But how?

"Hey dude, it's… it's fine. Ya know?" Simon looked up, almost looking ashamed, his face completely red. "I mean, you're drunk, I'm drunk. We were getting into some emotional, deep shit. I mean, it's completely natural that it should lead there. It doesn't… have to mean anything, or define who you are, or—"

"But I don't want to deny it if it is who I am." Bram dropped the reassuring smile. He wasn't prepared for this. "Bram…" Was Simon really about to—? "I'm… gay." Simon nodded, reaffirming what he said, as if he couldn't believe he said it. "I'm gay. God, after this whole night—after what I just told you, you must think…" Simon turned away, shaking his head. "Fuck, I don't even know what you must be thinking right now." He put his head back in his hand. Bram wasn't sure what to do, but he needed to do something.

"I think," Bram put his hand on Simon's shoulder, "that you're incredibly brave. You spoke honestly, even though it left you vulnerable, and given the chance to lie, deny everything, you stuck with the truth." Simon looked up from his hand, still not looking at Bram. "I think that takes courage. Add that to your list of adjectives." He didn't quite get a smile from that, but something shifted. "And I think you're worried for some good reasons and for some not good reasons. So let me just say that this in no way changes my opinion of you. You're a stand-up guy, Si, and you're one of the best people I have the honor of calling a friend." Simon shut his eyes tight, as if trying to wake up from a bad dream. "I'm really sorry about this. I'm sure this isn't the way you wanted things to go down." Simon nodded, absentmindedly. "Does anyone else know?"

"You're the first I've told."

"Damn." He pulled Simon slightly closer to him, into something resembling a hug. "I'm sorry. You deserve a better story than this."

"You can't tell anyone," Simon muttered.

"Of course not. I wouldn't dream of it."

"…You're a stand-up guy too. A lot better than some people." Is he being cryptic or is he just drunk? "I'm not—I mean I wasn't, or I haven't been—I'm not flirting with you. At least not intentionally."

Bram chuckled. "That's a relief. Because if that's how you flirt, we got a lotta work to do." For the first time since before the kiss, he got a laugh out of Simon. "Honestly, I got a lot of questions for you, if you're ok with that." Bram took his phone out of his pocket, and his eyes went wide when he saw the time. "But not tonight, you have a curfew, don't you?" Simon nodded. "Ok, well then let's find Yoko and get you home, Si." Bram stood up, helping Simon up as well.

"You—you don't have to call me that, honestly, I'm kinda mortified."

Bram shrugged and smiled. "I like calling you that. If you're ok with it, that is." He looked at Simon, who suddenly seemed so small, and relieved and… it could've been the alcohol or that it was late, or any number of things, but he almost seemed on the verge of tears. Simon suddenly closed the gap between them and threw his arms around Bram.

"Thank you." The words were barely a whisper. He couldn't even be sure that he heard them. Nevertheless, he hugged Simon back, as if to say ‘I got you.’ He waited until Simon was comfortable to pull away.

"Alright. Let's find Leah." Bram led Simon down the stairs. They traversed through different rooms, eventually finding Leah near the front of the house.

"Simon!" She called out, annoyed and a tiny bit worried. "Where have you been?" Simon faltered, unsure what to say. Bram looked over at him and knew he had to step in.

"Simon and I were just having a heart-to-heart. Sorry to keep 'im from ya."

She eyed the two of them suspiciously. "Everything ok, Simon?"

"I'm fine!" he said, somewhat offended.

Leah shook her head, unconvinced. "Whatever, we gotta go Simon." She directed him towards the exit. "Come on, front door." Simon overtook her and walked towards the exit.

"I'll see you at school, Si!" Bram called after him. He gave a friendly wave as Simon turned around, an uncertain smile on his face. He offered a tiny wave in response. Before she could follow Simon, Bram grabbed Leah's arm. She turned around, confused. "Hey, make sure he gets home okay. He's been through a lot tonight." She looked at him, clearly wanting to ask more questions, but in too much of a rush to ask any of them. She shook her head and took off after Simon, and soon the two were no longer in sight.

As he was looking at the space where Simon used to be, he suddenly felt a hand clasp his shoulder. "Hey-hey-heeyyyy! Dude, where ya been? The party's raaaaa-gin'!" He turned around and came face to face with a grinning Garrett. "People are making such a mess, it's ridiculous."

Bram squinted at him, an annoyed and perplexed expression on his face. "You know I'm the one who's gonna have to clean up this mess, right?" A look of dawning realization crossed Garrett's face. It was quickly displaced by a shrug and a grin.

"Whatever, that's a tomorrow thing." Bram rolled his eyes. "Yo, is it cool if I stay the night?"

"As long as you help me with the cleanup in the morning."

"Damn, that's cold. Alright, Bram. So seriously, where ya been?"

"Around, played a few games, did some karaoke—"

"Skip, skip, skip. I saw you heading upstairs with… somebody. Couldn't see who she was."

Bram gestured, feigning ignorance. "…So?" He always knew just how to properly annoy Garrett. He considered it a point of pride as his best friend.

"So… what happened, dude, c'mon! And don't give me that 'I don't kiss and tell' bullshit."

"Ok so first I don't think guys say that," Garrett stuck his tongue out at this, "second I actually don't quote-unquote kiss and tell, but third nothing happened."

"Really?" Garrett's face matched his disbelief. "You expect me to believe nothing happened?"

"What?" Garrett scoffed. "Ok, ok, fine, so we made out a bit." Garrett gasped scandalously. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, it lasted like two seconds before she left. Spent most of my time upstairs talking to Simon."

"…Spier?"

"Do we know a different Simon?"

"So let me get this straight: you could've been getting with some hot girl—"

"Depends on your definition of 'getting with.'"

"—but you let her leave—"

"I mean, there's more nuance to it than that—"

"—to talk with Simon Spier—"

"The one and only."

"—our friend, who you see every day?"

"Yep, that's basically the gist of it."

"…Dude. What the actual fuck. Simon's a cool guy and all but is talking with him really better than—"

Bram held up a hand. "Alright, spare me your judgement."

"Fine! I won't judge you right now."

"Thanks."

"I'll judge you tomorrow morning."

"Why are we friends again?"

"Shut up, you know you love me." Bram grimaced and shook his head. He looked around and noticed the clutter gradually piling up.

"Dude I gotta clean some of this shit up."

Garrett groaned. "That's a tomorrow problem man. Have some fun tonight! Get shitfaced! Try making out with some other girl! Make a complete ass of yourself!"

"Tomorrow won't make it any easier to clean." Garrett rolled his eyes. "There's no reason I can't do that stuff and clean up a little."

"You. Are so lame. Why are we friends again?"

Bram smirked. "You know you love me."

"Alright, at least let me get you a drink before you start cleaning." Bram sighed but reluctantly agreed. He let Garrett get him a drink, and then he cleaned up a few things. He played some dumb game with his friends, then tidied up a bit more. He continued like this throughout the night, alternating between having fun and cleaning up a little bit, until most everyone had left, Garrett was passed out on the couch, and only the biggest messes were left to clean up (all the vomit really was a tomorrow problem).

Bram sighed and sat down in a chair. All and all it had been a pretty eventful night. Through all the fun he had been having, he nearly forgot about the thing with Simon. Nearly. He relaxed, closing his eyes and allowing himself to rest. Maybe he should just fall asleep here. He and Garrett would wake up tomorrow, chuckling at the events of the party, joking with each other, and shirking on cleaning responsibilities, trying to pass them off to each other. He was exhausted, he deserved a good night's rest. Or however many hours he had before the sun came back up again. He could feel himself nodding off…

His phone buzzed. He staved off sleep, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check the new notification. He looked at it and his stomach sank.

It was an email to Blue. From Jacques.

From Simon.

He sighed, putting his phone back in his pocket and closing his eyes again.

As Garrett had said, that was a tomorrow problem.

Chapter Text

It was the aroma that woke him up, really. He had been dreaming, not a bad dream but not noteworthy either, and a pleasant smell suddenly changed the direction the dream was going. Tired-eyed children in pajamas, waking up and playing games after having slept over the previous night, the nostalgia of starry-eyed kids with big futures ahead of them.

Brams eyes fluttered open. He was definitely not in his bed. The initial confusion faded in a split second as he remembered the party and precisely how he fell asleep. Of course, this led to some follow-up confusion, namely wondering where the hell was Garrett (he had fallen asleep on the couch opposite him but was nowhere in sight) and where the hell that heavenly scent was coming from.

It took him longer than he’d ever care to admit to figure out those two confusions resolved each other.

Bram closed his eyes again, resting for just a few more moments.

“Are you making bacon for me, Garrett?” Bram heard some shuffling from the kitchen.

“Oh, good, you’re awake. And for your information I was making bacon for us.”

“You’re a goddamn saint.”

“Yeah, I was gonna raid your pantry, maybe make some oatmeal, then I remembered—"

“I hate oatmeal.”

“You hate oatmeal."

"I don't like the texture. Judge me all you want, won't make it any better."

"But I got us covered. I mean, turns out any idiot can make bacon. You just throw it on the skillet and hope you don't get burned. Ow!" Bram chuckled at the sound—probably just a splatter out of the pan, or just a brief brush against hot metal. Garrett was somewhat prone to those kinds of accidents. Nevertheless, he heard Garrett quietly humming a happy tune as he worked away at breakfast. It wasn't long before he heard a quiet clatter from the cupboards and the skillet stopped sizzling. He listened intently as the footsteps came his direction. He cautiously opened his eyes again as they stopped in front of him.

There stood his best friend, a grin on his face and a plate with several bacon strips in each hand. He had clearly gotten a fair amount of sleep, and it even seemed like he'd had time to clean up and change out of his costume from the previous night. He handed a plate to Bram.

"Bon appétit, mon ami." Garrett sat back on the couch. Bram could tell from a cursory glance around the room that Garrett had in fact done a bit of cleaning up while Bram had slept. He didn't realize Garrett would actually help out. He really should give his friend more credit. The two ate the bacon in relative silence, just enjoying each other's company. But as Bram's tired mind woke up, it remembered the other thing that happened last night.

"I thought you were Blue." The words echoed in his mind, and he remained focused on the kiss, how he had refused to react, how he had desperately wanted to react, how he wished he had reacted. He kept thinking, remembering the puzzle pieces that fell into place. Leah and Nick and Abby—

Wait a minute. Nick and Abby. He mentioned them. So what was the deal with making Abby play with Martin?

He was too preoccupied to focus on that thought. The answers, the clues, they were all making sense. Like how he should've realized the sister was Nora. Bram chuckled a little.

"What's so funny?" He looked up at Garrett, who was eyeing him with curiosity.

"I was just thinking," Bram swallowed another piece of bacon, "This is nice and all, but sometimes I get a little jealous of Simon."

Garrett held out a hand in confusion. "Simon? Why?"

"His kid sister, Nora, apparently got really into cooking shows so now every morning she makes some kind of pancake or omelet or pastry for the whole family."

"Wow. Now I'm a little jealous."

Bram smirked. "What's worse is he rarely stays around to eat it. I heard him telling Nick the other day he wished he had more time to eat breakfast in the morning."

"What's with all the Simon talk lately?" Garrett ask, trying to mask genuine curiosity with an air of indifference. Bram saw right through it.

"You mean last night?"

"No." Bram stared him down. "Well, yeah, but it's more than that. You been talking with him more recently."

"…Not really."

"Yeah. Like how did you know Nora got into cooking?"

Bram shrugged. "I dunno. He prob'ly said it at lunch a while ago or something. Just a tiny detail that stuck with me, I guess. Not really the strangest thing to know about him, considering how long we've known him."

"And we've been sitting with him at lunch a lot more recently."

"And Leah. And Abby. And Nick, the reason we sit with them at all." Garrett looked a little perplexed and a little…concerned? Was that the emotion on his face? Bram sighed. "I like hanging out with Nick's crew. They're pretty cool, and I like to think I've learned by now to hold onto cool people. I mean, you know Nick, he's just this big ball of sunshine and happiness. Abby is just like, super cool and she has unique perspectives. Leah is grounded and really smart, always thinking. And Simon… Simon's just a good guy to laugh with. And I like to laugh." Bram looked back down towards his plate, but still felt Garrett's watchful eye on him.

"Bram, is everything ok with you lately?" Bram looked up. Whatever perplexed look had been on his face before was gone. And Bram was positive this emotion was concern.

"Well, we're heading into the holiday season, which we all know is just filled with joy for a child of divorce." The sarcasm was acidic, biting into the atmosphere that had previously filled the room and making it just a tiny bit tenser.

"I get it. Well, I mean, I don't get it but I mean…" Garrett sighed. "Bram, you're my best friend. And I want you to be doing well."

Bram shot back a humorously confused look, hoping to lighten the tension. "Thanks, I guess? Where's this coming from, anyway?”

Garrett frowned. "I know something's been up with you recently."

There is an emotion closeted people experience when they are not ready to come out that can only be described as acute fear. It doesn't matter how irrational the fear is, how accepting the person would be, how far from discovery they are. The fear is powerful, even causing people to lock themselves further in the closet when they would normally be ready to reveal the truth. This fear can be triggered by a few statements, such as "there's something we need to talk about," "what are you hiding?" and, "I know something's been up with you recently."

Bram felt this fear now. He never expected anything but acceptance from Garrett. But he wasn't ready for him to know.

So he plastered on a small grin and said, "What do you mean?"

"Look, man, I know we don't talk about our emotions and shit, but… I know you're facing some real shit. Especially the last few years. Like, most days I know you're fine, just kinda neutral towards everything. But I've noticed that after some of your greatest triumphs, you have trouble keeping a genuine smile on your face afterwards. You just put on a fake one, like you're doing now, and pretend everything's alright. But I know it's not." Garrett sighed. "It's like, your highest highs are followed by your lowest lows, like you're on some sort of…" Bram held his breath, "…roller coaster, or something." Bram silently breathed out. "And it just sucks that I feel helpless when you get like that. Look, I guess I'm trying to say that… I'm here for you. Whenever, whatever you need, I'll be here. And if you need to laugh more—if you need to hang around someone like Simon more, I get it. I just want you to feel ok talking to me about stuff."

Bram had to smile at this. It wasn't something that they reaffirmed often, but it was nice to know that Garrett cared about him. And this realization was a good opportunity to ease the tension and slow the beating of his heart. His grin turned into a smirk.

"Don't tell me you're jealous of Simon." Garrett scoffed. "Afraid I'm gonna replace you as my best friend?"

"Yeah, right. You couldn't escape me if you tried, Greenfeld. If Simon wants the position of your best friend he's just gonna have to get in line."

"Oh, so there's a line?"

"Yeah, after me it's Nick. I forget who's after Nick, but Simon will just have to wait in line after that guy."

"Didn't realize I was so popular." Garrett rolled his eyes. "In any case, Simon's got a line, too. And I'm not in the market for a new best friend."

"Good. 'Cause I don't share best friends. You're totally my bitch forever." The two stared at each other intently in silence, desperate to hide their laughter. They failed in the most spectacular way, a bombast of laughter exploding from the two boys. They weren't even sure why they were laughing so hard, it just seemed like the right thing to do. They took a few minutes to collect themselves.

"So, Bram, are you," Bram started giggling for no reason, almost causing Garrett to laugh mid-sentence, "Dude, stop!" Bram nodded, smiling and keeping his mouth closed. "Are you okay? Really?"

Bram looked around the room and shrugged. "I dunno. I think every teenager is at least, like, a little depressed. And I mean, you're right. About the highest highs and lowest lows. But I'm dealing with it. I mean, there's not much else I can do with it." Garrett looked over, still worried. "But I'm fine, really. I mean, I don't know if you've noticed, but my life's pretty fuckin' awesome." Garrett chuckled. "I'll be okay, dude. I appreciate you looking out for me."

"And if there's something you need to talk about you'll come to me, right?"

Bram nodded. "Of course, Garrett." He did want to talk to Garrett about everything. But he wasn't ready for him to know. He wasn't ready for everything to change. "What time is it?"

"I dunno, like late morning?"

Bram nodded pensively. "We should probably start cleaning things up." Bram stood up, yawning and stretching as he did so. He pointed at a package on the table near Garrett. "Are there any Halloween Oreos left?" Garrett leaned over and picked up the package. He took a quick look inside then shook his head.

"Sorry."

"This is the saddest moment of my entire life."

A few hours later and with a lot of effort, the house looked clean again.

Well, not really clean. But you couldn't really tell there had been a party there the previous night. They were still working on a few small things to declutter, but for the most part they'd done pretty well. Bram was picking up a few things that he knew should probably be in his room when Garrett walked over, beaming from ear to ear. Bram saw the package he was holding and his eyes immediately lit up.

"Found another package of Halloween Oreos in the pantry."

"God is real and he loves me." Bram took the package and greedily tore through the wrapping quickly grabbing two Oreos and stuffing them into his mouth.

"Why the Halloween ones, though?"

Bram shrugged. "The orange is fun and they taste good. Fight me."

"That won't be necessary," Garrett replied as he ate one himself.

"A man after my own heart." Of course, the Oreos only made him think of the man who actually was after his own heart. Jacques. Simon. He wasn't sure he'd ever quite see them as the same person, the shy, almost fearful Jacques with his cute in-jokes and daydreams and the strangely intimate knowledge he and blue had of each other, and Simon, the confident friend he kinda sorta knew from school and who was just funny and fun to be around and pretty damn cute.

Bram shook his head. Surely there was something better to think about right now.

"Everything alright, Bram?" Perhaps the head shaking would seem somewhat odd to Garrett.

"Sorry. Lost in thought. Should prolly keep cleaning."

"Well, I mean, I think we deserve a break. We've done a pretty good job. We even cleaned up Addison's puke."

Bram groaned in disgust. "Agh! Gross. That was Martin's vomit?" The two laughed at the nauseating image. "God, who invited him?"

"Didn't he come here with Nick's crew?" Bram paused. He did, didn't he? That's curious.

"Alright, I'm gonna put some of this clutter away."

"…And change out of your costume? And shower? I hope?" Garrett wasn't completely out of line. The costume had been in a much worse state by the end of the party last night, and he'd never thought to change out of it. He stared at Garrett.

"You know, if you think I look dirty and smell bad you can just tell me," Bram deadpanned.

"You look hella dirty and you smell nasty. Please shower." Bram shot a glare at Garrett as he headed towards the stairs. "You're welcome!" His friend sarcastically called after him. He placed the few things that had been scattered around the house back in his room, not bothering to try and clean up the mess in there quite yet. Somewhat freed by the realization that he wasn't going anywhere today, he lethargically picked out the most comfortable clothes he could find before heading to the bathroom. As he ran the water, he thought about Simon for what seemed like the millionth time that day. It wasn't that he was really surprised by the discovery (okay, maybe he was a little, but it was a pleasant surprise), it was more that the timing and everything had caught him off guard. And the kiss. The unexpected kiss.

Really, a lot of stuff started making sense. About Simon and Jacques. Even the name, now that he thought about it. Jacques a dit. That's what they call Simon Says in French. That's clever. The only thing that wasn't making sense was the Martin thing. Really, that was the only question he had left to ask Simon. Because a lot just lined up with Jacques, the humor and charm with which he wrote, the frank observations about life, the way he could practically see Simon, sitting down in his room, stressing over how to respond and spending way too long to just press send.

He needed to read the newest email. He'd been avoiding it all day, not least of all because Garrett was with him the whole time. But it was more than that. Every time he thought about Jacques, the things Jacques said to him… he now had to imagine in Simon's voice. Which was a lot stranger than just kinda hoping it might be someone like Simon and reading it in his voice just because he could. He pulled out his phone and opened the email. It was a little long for Jacques Simon (that was gonna take some getting used to), rambling about why he hadn't come out yet, how straight people didn't have to come out, how he wanted things to stay the same and his humorous description of what it would be like to be out and proud in college. That part made him laugh. And reading that made him realize that this was Simon. The humor, the witty thoughts, the exaggeration—this email was definitely the work of Simon Spier (albeit a drunk Simon Spier but Simon nonetheless). But the last thing he read made his heart skip a beat. He put down the phone and hopped into the shower to ponder.

He was right about straight being the default. That did seem to be a frustrating and somewhat unfair part of being gay. He tried to imagine what it would be like if straight people had to come out. He imagined Garrett talking to his parents.

His parents sitting down on the couch. Garrett begins, voice shaking. "Mom, dad… we need to talk." God, I can just see the bemusement on their faces. He takes a deep breath and says, "I just wanted to tell you that… I have a crush…on a girl. I'm straight." His parents stop smiling. His dad almost laughs, while his mom turns away, disappointed. His dad tries to comfort her. "No," he says, "this is just a phase. This is what kids do now, like, it's cool to try to be heterosexual." His mother holds up a hand, to shocked to speak. Garrett looks at the scene, relieved to have gotten it off his chest, but sad that this is how it turned out. "I'm sorry. I love you guys, and if you wanna talk about it…" and he's not sure what to say. He walks out of the room, heart pounding.

He had to laugh at that. As overdramatic and not understanding as Garrett's parents could be, that was exactly how it would be bound to go down. But they didn't live in that world. They lived in the world where it was Bram that would have to go through that process. And it wasn't funny, it was real and kind of terrifying.

Maybe Simon had the right idea. Wait until college. It wasn't the worst plan. If you go away for college, it's a chance to reinvent yourself. Leave the old you behind, embrace the new you. That is, if college was like those dumb movies portray it. He knew he'd have to talk to family and friends from before, and he couldn't just forget the old version of him. There was something comforting about keeping everything the same until the last possible second, but somehow with all the emailing, it seemed like things were changing. And he realized he needed to talk with somebody. He had to come out to somebody, somebody important who should know, but whose knowing wouldn't change everything. And then he remembered his father was coming in for Hanukkah soon. Someone important that honestly wasn't in his life enough to change everything. Maybe. It could work.

The thing that stuck with Bram most, though, were the last two words.

Love, Jacques.

His heart started beating faster. He felt blood rush to his cheeks, butterflies began dancing around in his stomach. Love, Jacques. He'd never signed off his emails like this. Normally they were so formal. The first one he sent he had just used his name—er, Jacque's name. But love? It left him feeling weird. Almost dizzy.

He knew Simon was drunk last night. Even not knowing who he was, Jacques's email read less coherent than usual. He knew that drunk Simon didn't think exactly the same way sober Simon did. That is to say, he didn't think as carefully when he was drunk. So he probably hadn't noticed what he'd typed before he sent it off. He could imagine Simon's look, adorably panicked and just two seconds too late to change it.

But just because he had thought it through didn't mean he hadn't meant it. In fact, Bram was positive Simon meant it. Probably. Right? I take back everything I said about Angelica Schuyler overreacting over a comma after 'dearest.' Because he had to respond to that, and honestly… how did he respond to that? It wasn't an easy thing to respond to. Because he had to acknowledge that he'd read it and explain how he felt without pointing it out explicitly.

So how exactly did he feel about it?

Bram turned off the water and stood in the shower, unmoving. He watched the water as it dripped down from the faucet, only distracted by the water dripping down from his hair.

How exactly did he feel about it?

He grabbed a towel from outside. He patted himself with the towel until he was (vaguely) dry and quickly changed into the clothes he had set out for himself. Normally he'd care more about drying his hair (which was sopping wet) completely, but realizing that he didn't have anywhere to go and that the only person he'd see today was Garrett made that seem like less of an imperative. He grabbed his phone. He thought a bit about what he wanted to say, then began drafting the email as he went back downstairs. He sat down on the couch, hardly taking notice of Garrett as he ate Oreos by the counter.

…If I were a gambling man, I'd say you were drunk emailing me in your last letter.

"Your hair's a little wet, dude."

"I noticed."

Don't worry, I liked it.

"Alright, I gotta ask. Why didn't you get with that girl last night?" Bram shot Garrett a look of tired amusement before going back to the email. "I know you're gonna be like, 'oh I was drunk,' or whatever but really. What's the reason?"

Bram looked up. "You really wanna know?" Garrett nodded his head enthusiastically. Bram looked around, almost as if about to share a secret. "I realized if I did, I'd be known as the guy who hooked up with the girl that dressed like a sexy minion, and I don't want that to be my identifier." Garrett burst into laughter. Bram shook his head, chuckling as he finished the email.

Love, Blue.

Returning to school on Monday was strange. He waved to Simon in the hall, but Simon avoiding reciprocating, immediately turning away. And in the morning class they shared, Simon made a point to not look at Bram. It was a little awkward watching him look straight down at his desk the entire class period. Bram anxiously tapped his pencil, looking at the clock and counting down the seconds until the bell rang. He needed to talk to Simon. Find out what the deal was with Nick and Abby. And Martin. The second the bell rang he practically bolted out of his seat. When he turned around Simon was already almost out the door.

"Simon!" He called after him and attempted to push through his classmates to catch up. "Si! Wait up!" At hearing the nickname Simon hesitated just long enough for Bram to catch up. "Hey bud, I've been looking for you, been meaning to talk."

"That's interesting, because I've been avoiding you and regretting every single decision I've ever made." Simon sighed as the two walked down the hallway. "Honestly, I'm…so embarrassed, I might just die of shame right in the middle of this hallway, I'm—I'm sorry."

"Well, just keep walking and talking like everything's alright. Because everything is alright and you have nothing to be sorry for. Do you got a minute to talk? I have a question for you."

"I shoulda seen this coming. Yeah, let's… let's go to the library and get this over with." Bram nodded as the two walked towards the library.

"Hey Simon!" Leah had creeped up right behind them. Bram hadn't even heard her approach through the boisterous noise in the hall.

"Hey Leah. We just gotta do something real quick, I'll catch up with you later."

Leah looked to Bram, perplexed. He offered a small apologetic smile in return. She stared at him, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

"Alright, I gotcha. See you later Simon. Bram." She took off down another hall as the two boys continued on their path, entering the library and walking towards a large shelf in the back, largely forgotten by other students.

"Alright, I know you have a lot of questions. When did I know, why did I… do that at the party… just go ahead, ask."

Bram's expression turned sympathetic. "Dude, even if I wanted to know, that shit's not my business." Simon looked back at him, confused. "My biggest question is about something else you said." Simon nodded, hesitant. "You mentioned Nick and Abby at the party, implying that even you can see the immense chemistry between them and how are they not dating already. But then it's almost like you were trying to keep them apart at the party. You had her team up with Martin Addison, who I know came with your friends. If I was a gambling man, I'd say you were the one who invited him to tag along. So really, my question is… why?"

Simon sighed. He looked around quickly, and when he was confident no one was listening in on them, he turned back to Bram. "Because Martin is blackmailing me."

Bram furrowed his eyebrows. "What? How?" Simon looked down and vaguely gestured with his hand. Bram understood, a growing look of horror on his face. "Wait, he knows?" Simon nodded. Bram shook his head. "But you said I was the only one who knew."

"I said you were the first person I told."

"Then how does Martin know?"

Simon avoided looking at Bram, explaining the story with his eyes turned toward the ground. "I've been emailing this guy. He goes to our school and he's… y'know, too. And he hasn't told anyone either. We met from a post on Creek Secrets, so I don't know who he really is." Simon gulped. "I call him Blue. Which is why at the party…"

Bram already knew all of this, but he nodded, feigning understanding. "You thought I was Blue."

"It was a dumb assumption based on arbitrary similarities, it's really stupid, and I'm sorry—"

"Hey, you got nothing to apologize for. But I don't get what this has to do with Martin."

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose. "I was emailing Blue from a library computer one time and I forgot to log out. Martin used the computer after me, and instead of acting like a normal human being for like five fucking seconds, he went through the emails we sent and took screenshots like a complete dickwad." Bram's jaw dropped. His mind began freaking out, regretting the emails, the Creek Secrets post, all of it. This didn't just affect Simon, this affected him as well. But he couldn't let Simon know that. "Yeah. So he's saying if I don't get him a shot at being with Abby, he's gonna post them online." He forced his mind to slow down for two seconds to form a coherent reply.

"Are you fucking serious? You gotta do something, you gotta—you gotta tell the school or something."

"But then I'd have to tell somebody. I'm not ready to… And even if I got him in trouble, who's to say he wouldn't just post them anyway?" Simon sighed. "I'm figuring it out, I'm trying to form a plan it's just… It's fine. I'm figuring it out." Bram couldn't breathe. Somebody else was using their private emails to blackmail Simon. And now he had to worry about them getting out. What if people figured out he was Blue? As much as he was freaking out, he felt awful for Simon. Simon was gonna be the one to take the heat for it if it came out. Blue had already faded in the consciousness of the student body. But if they had a name and a face to attach to a gay kid… Simon's face… "So was that the only question?" Simon looked dejected. Bram couldn't end the conversation like this.

"Your name."

For the first time in the conversation, Simon looked directly at Bram, an eyebrow raised in confusion. "What?"

"At the party I pointed out the alliterative qualities to your name, and you said I should ask about what your name means. So what does it mean?"

Simon was taken aback at the question. He didn't quite smile, but there was a change in his expression, a light in his eyes that wasn't there before. "Well, Simon is 'the one who hears,' and Spier is 'the one who sees.' So I guess I should be a lot more observant than I am." Simon chuckled to himself slightly at this.

Bram responded with a small but sincere smile. "Well personally I think your observation skills are pretty great." Simon looked away, concealing a troubled expression. Bram wished he could make Simon’s troubles go away forever. "At the party, you noticed something changed in my mood and you said, 'you know you can talk to me about stuff, right?' Well, I want you to know that you can talk to me about stuff. If you want. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want, but if there's something you wanna talk about, well, I'm here for you, Si."

There was a pause. Simon didn't look up at Bram. "Are you still gonna call me that?"

"I mean, if you don't want me to, I'll stop."

Simon turned his head to the side, casually observing the shelves filled with books. "Nah, I like 'Si.'" He looked back at Bram. "I stand by that." He allowed a small smile, if only to relieve the tension.

"Alright. I should prolly get going now, but I'll see ya later?" Bram inflected the statement like a question. Simon nodded in the affirmative. "Bye, Si."

Simon chuckled. "Don't you mean gay Si?" he whispered. Bram laughed a tiny bit at this himself.

"My mistake." As Bram turned to leave, he remembered something else. He turned back to Simon and reached in his pocket. He held out a small bag containing three Oreos with orange icing. Simon looked at the back, confused.

"What's this?"

"I remember you said you liked the Halloween ones. I had some leftover after the party. And I'm gonna pick up, like, ten cases before the stores stop carrying them. So I figured an Oreo connoisseur such as yourself might like some." Simon took the bag, hesitant, but cautiously optimistic.

"Thanks, Bram. I appreciate it."

Bram shrugged. "What are friends for?" He walked away from Simon, waving at him as he turned. "Later."

"Later Bram." Bram walked out of the library and down the hall, and try as he might, he couldn't stop the warmth in his cheeks or the skip in his step.