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"I didn't get you any peanut butter, 'cuz that's disgusting, but it should have everything else you ordered last time," Miky tells Marcin, as he stares down at the unpretentious white box with the waffle cake he'd asked for so many times for his birthday. "Is it?"
Marcin blinks up at him and the rest of the team. Honestly, it's not that big of a surprise—not really any kind of surprise at all. G2 knows about all their birthdays and makes a point of doing something to celebrate every year. Plus, Marcin had been very, very vocal about the waffle cake to literally anyone who would listen.
But honestly, he'd expected one of their managers to get it for him. Sure, he'd mentioned once, or twice, or like eight times that he wanted Miky to get it for him, but that had been a joke! He hadn't really thought Miky, of all people, would go out and get such a ridiculous, specific thing. That was more Luka's thing—Luka, who could always be counted on to make people feel special, who never forgot a birthday even while never remembering to pick his clothes up off the damn bathroom floor. With Luka gone, and the de facto role of "leader" falling to Marcin, he hadn't really expected anything special at all.
Still, they're all here. They all remembered.
"Yeah, it is," he says, in response to Miky's question—one huge waffle cake piled high with strawberries, bananas, and chocolate. And no peanut butter because Miky thinks it's gross, but Marcin is willing to let it slide.
"Thank you, again," he says, after pictures have been taken, and it seems like they're ready to let him get back to his stream.
"Don't thank us yet," Miky murmurs under his breath, just loud enough for Marcin to hear.
"What?" he asks. Miky just shakes his head.
"You'll see," is all he says.
"Okayyyy," Marcin says. That's… slightly ominous, but it wouldn't be the first time Miky said something randomly threatening for shits and giggles.
Well, whatever it is, he'll find out sooner or later.
*
The day after his birthday, Marcin is running fucking late. This is not ideal, because he still has flashbacks to last split, getting stuck in traffic before their playoffs match, the way it stressed everyone out to no end despite the way they played it off as a joke. In all the birthday chaos yesterday, his mouse wound up getting misplaced, and by the time he finds it everyone else is loaded up into the car.
He's just finished tossing everything into his bag when a voice says, "There you are."
He turns to find Wunder standing in the doorway, waiting expectantly for him. "Sorry, sorry," Marcin says. "I didn't mean to make everyone wait." He heads for the door, past Wunder, but Wunder puts a hand on his shoulder and he stops.
"Jankos," he says, then sighs. "Just so you know, this wasn't my idea, so if you hate it, it's not my fault."
Before Marcin can ask him what the hell he's talking about, Wunder ducks his head and… kisses him?
Marcin is so surprised at first that he just freezes up. Not because it's bad—just because Wunder is never affectionate like this with any of them aside from Rasmus, and occasionally Miky. Certainly not with Marcin.
Wunder pulls back and stares at him appraisingly. He doesn't seem embarrassed—actually, he has his I'm judging you face on, which, in Marcin's opinion, is vastly unfair. After all, he's not the one just kissing people out of nowhere, even if it's not unwelcome. Plus, they're going to be late!
Instead of addressing any of this, Marcin finds himself asking, "Why would you think I'd hate that?"
"Because you like Miky," Wunder says. "And Luka."
"That doesn't mean I don't like you," Marcin points out.
Wunder scoffs. "That's so cringe," he pronounces, then grabs the back of Marcin's head in one large hand so he can pull him in to kiss him again.
Marcin, honestly, forgets the part where they're going to be late. Considering how allergic he is to showing affection for other people, it's unfair that Wunder is actually… good at this. Maybe it's the way he seems to instinctively take control, pulling Marcin against him so easily it makes him feel small, but not in a bad way. It's not often Marcin doesn't mind feeling vulnerable, but somehow, like this it's okay. Maybe it's because it's just an undeniable fact that Wunder is, in fact, a big, strong, independent top laner who don't need no ganks, but Marcin can't stop himself melting against him, pushing up into Wunder to deepen the kiss a bit more—
Which is of course when Wunder pulls away, breaking the kiss and leaving Marcin with his eyes fluttering open, a little confused, a lot breathless.
Wunder laughs. "You should see your face."
"My face?!" Marcin sputters. "You should see your face!"
"I don't need to see it to know it's not half as dumb as yours," Wunder replies.
"Why did you even start kissing me out of nowhere?" Marcin demands.
Wunder shrugs. "It's your birthday present."
"My birthday is over," Marcin says.
"Maybe I'm just trying to get extra ganks, then," Wunder says. He presses a last, quick kiss to Marcin's forehead before heading for the door. "Guess you'll never know."
Marcin can only stare after him in disbelief. It occurs to him that kissing Wunder is a little bit like eating fresh strawberries—sure they can be sweet, but a lot of the time the big ones are tart as a motherfucker.
Wunder pokes his head back into the room. "Hurry up, by the way, or you're going to make everyone late."
"How is that my fault?!" Marcin yelps, but he does as he's told.
*
A day later, there's a knock on the door of the streaming room as Marcin is finishing up for the night.
"You can come in," he calls. When the door opens and Martin (Grabbz's favorite Martin) pokes his head in, he's a little surprised. "You're here late…"
"I have something for you," Martin tells him. "Are you done streaming?"
"I just finished," Marcin says.
"Cool," Martin says, closing the door behind him. He's not… holding anything, Marcin realizes, as he steps closer.
"What did you want to give m—" he starts to ask, and is cut off when Martin bends down, caging Marcin in his gaming chair with his hands on the armrests, lips addictively warm when they brush hesitantly over Marcin's.
Well. He wasn't expecting that, but Marcin definitely isn't going to complain.
He's slightly better prepared to be kissed out of the blue this time, and when he responds in kind Martin lets out a soft hum and deepens the kiss, sliding into Marcin's lap in one languid movement. As bold as it is, he seems exceedingly comfortable, and Marcin can't help but admire his confidence. He always has, no less now that the famous Rekkles is on his side instead of opposite him.
"Happy birthday," Martin says, with that soft, semi-shy smile completely at odds with his attitude, the same smile that's ensnared millions of people, now directed right at Marcin.
"This again…" he says, but can't help but grin back. He lets his fingers trace up Martin's arms, follows the lines of ink, because hey, if the opportunity is gonna present itself then he's going to take full advantage. "Well, thank you, even if technically it's a bit belated."
Martin laughs. "We're just making it last."
"I don't mind," Marcin says. "I definitely do not mind, but I am also very curious about what's gotten into you all."
"I don't think anything has," Martin says. "I think sometimes… people just want to show you they appreciate you." He leans in again, lips almost touching Marcin's. "Like… this."
Martin kisses slow, and hot, and easy—likes to push and pull a bit, doesn't mind Marcin's hands tugging in his silky hair or (cautiously) teasing up under his shirt. He's careful until he isn't, until Marcin is feeling lightheaded and more than a little overheated.
He decides that kissing Martin is sort of similar to the taste of chocolate—rich, sweet, and undeniably smooth. It leaves him wanting, even after he's already had more than he should.
And if it's his birthday gift, he thinks he should be able to indulge a little.
"You could stay here tonight," he mumbles, words coming out indistinct when Martin kisses the corner of his mouth.
"Or… you could come home with me?" he suggests.
"Deal," Marcin says.
Honestly, he thinks his bot laner gets an unfair rep for playing too passive.
*
"Jankos! Are you awake?"
Two mornings later and Marcin's still dreaming about that night—he pats the bed next to him, but it's woefully empty of any tattooed marksmen with cute smiles and very clever fingers.
So then… who's calling him…?
"Jankos?"
Marcin cracks his eyes open to find another pair of eyes staring at him from the doorway, silvery in the late morning sunlight. "Rasmus…?"
Rasmus's eyes go wide. "Oh no! Did I wake you up? I'm sorry!"
"It's fine…" Marcin yawns. And maybe Martin's not there, but he can think of a way to fix that. "Come here, huh?"
Rasmus hops onto the bed and curls up into Marcin's side when he holds out his arm to make room. "Did you sleep well?"
"Pretty good, yeah," Marcin says. "Did you need me for something?"
"Not really, no," Rasmus says. "Well, kinda! But it's not super important. I mean, it is important, but it's not urgent!"
Marcin is starting to suspect he knows what this is all about. "Hey, Rasmus."
Rasmus, from where he is tucked under Marcin's arm, peeks up at him. "Yeah?"
Marcin kisses him, quick and soft, pulling away before even Claps's famous reflexes can kick in. "Was that what you needed me for?"
Rasmus blinks at him in surprise, before smacking a hand to his forehead. "That's not how it works! I'm supposed to kiss you!"
"Guess you missed your chance," Marcin says with a laugh.
"No, no, no," Rasmus says. "Stay there."
Marcin was not exactly planning on going anywhere, but he is a bit chagrined when Rasmus rolls away from him, heading back out the door. A second later, however, there's a quiet knock.
Amused, Marcin props himself up on one elbow. "Come in?"
Rasmus re-enters and waves at him. "Jankos!" he exclaims, in a voice that Marcin immediately recognizes as his Professional Actor Caps Voice™. "You're awake!"
"Yyyeah," Marcin says. He's not exactly sure where Rasmus is going with this, but he's also used to it enough to play along.
"Are you ready," Rasmus says, dead serious, "to receive your birthday gift?"
"I'm ready," Marcin says, equally grave.
"Then prepare yourself," Rasmus tells him.
There are about seven jokes Marcin could make here and at least five of them are vastly inappropriate. Before he gets the chance, Rasmus launches himself at the bed, and Marcin barely manages to catch him, finding himself falling back into the pillows and being very enthusiastically kissed. That's certainly one way to wake up.
"Happy! Birthday!" Rasmus tells him, in between kisses, each one more light and giggly and excited than the last. Marcin finally rolls him over so he can keep some kind of hold on him, trapping Rasmus beneath him and pressing his lips to Rasmus's forehead, nose, cheeks, until they're both out of breath with laughter.
Rasmus is… kind of like bananas. Maybe Marcin has to do some work to peel away at the weirdness first, but underneath that is something purely soft and sweet.
"So, you weren't expecting it at all, right?" Rasmus asks him cheekily.
"You got me," Marcin reassures him.
"Nice."
Also, Rasmus is funny, and so are bananas... or something? Whatever; it worked better when he wasn't thinking so hard about it, and anyway, he's got a mid laner to kiss.
*
By the time Luka calls him midway through the week, Marcin is practically expecting it.
"Okay, okay, okay," he says as he answers the Discord call. "So it's you this whole time, huh?"
Luka's face appears on his monitor, trademark shit-eating grin firmly in place. It's so familiar that it's comforting instead of infuriating. "What do you mean, Jankos?"
"You put them all up to this, right?" Marcin accuses him. "You son of a bitch."
"I have literally no idea what you're talking about!" Luka says, but the way he bursts out laughing seems to suggest this is not exactly true. "Are you telling me you're not enjoying your birthday week? Ungrateful motherfucker."
"So you do know!" Marcin shouts. "And, no, I am enjoying it—but I want to know what's going on!"
"Stop whining, you're so fucking annoying," Luka says. And then, "Damn, I fucking miss you."
Marcin feels himself getting all soft and mushy, which is awful. He hates it. "I miss you, too."
"At least the boys are taking care of you for me." Luka casts him a raised eyebrow. "Including Rekkles, from what Rasmus tells me."
Marcin leers at him. "Jealous?"
"Maybe," Luka readily admits. He rolls his eyes at Marcin's expression. "How are you surprised?"
"I thought you'd lie!" Marcin says.
"What's the point if you know I'm lying?"
"I don't know?! You're the one who always acts like you don't like me!"
"But you already know I like you," Luka says.
"I—you—that's not—" Marcin sputters, before giving up. He can feel his cheeks burning and puts his hands up to block his no doubt red face from view. The actual high-pitched whine that escapes him is involuntary and inescapable.
Luka is, of course, laughing at him. "You're so fucking cute, Marcin," he says. "I really wanna kiss you right now."
"Well, you can't!" Marcin squeaks. "You cannot kiss me because you aren't here!"
"You doubt me?" Luka says. "Come here."
"To NA?" Marcin asks blankly.
"No, you fucking—get closer to your screen."
"Huh?" Marcin leans in, until his nose is almost touching the screen.
Luka mimics him, shifting forward until it really feels like the monitor is the only thing between them, just a thin screen, and not the thousands of miles separating them.
"You know what I would do, if I was there," Luka says softly, and with headphones on, his voice is right in Marcin's ear.
Marcin's breath hitches. "What?"
"I'd get nice and close… just like this," Luka murmurs. "Pull you up against me on the couch underneath that stupid fluffy blanket you love…"
"It's not stupid," Marcin says, because excuse him, that blanket is comfy as fuck.
"I'd hold onto you so tight, you couldn't get away," Luka continues.
And Marcin… yeah, he remembers. All the nights, just like that, one of Luka's legs shoved between his own and Marcin holding him, Luka's face pressed to his chest and arms around him, always the cuddle monster. Some nights, the others with them, Caps lying bodily on top of them both, or Marcin's head in Miky's lap, or Wunder stretched out on the other side of the couch, eyes locked on his phone and free hand rubbing absent circles on Luka's back.
Other nights, just the two of them. Always good, no matter how it went.
"And then…" Luka breathes.
Marcin leans even closer, nose nearly touching the screen. "And then?"
Luka grins at him. Then he opens his mouth and licks his webcam, and for a moment Marcin's entire monitor is filled with nothing but tongue.
"You're disgusting," he says, as Luka nearly kills himself laughing. "You are actually fucking disgusting."
"And you still love me," Luka says.
Marcin sighs. "Unfortunately."
"Happy birthday, idiot," Luka tells him. "Love you back."
So Luka, Marcin determines, is a bit like a big spoonful of peanut butter. A little nutty, sweet but also salty as hell, and, according to some people—completely fucking gross.
(He's also missing. But sometimes, on nights like this when all they do is laugh, it's a little easier to forget.)
*
The night before the start of Super Week, Marcin is hungry.
Yeah, for victory and stuff, but also—he'd give up at least one kidney for a long-past-midnight snack, even though he really shouldn't. Shouldn't have a snack this late, that is, although probably he should rethink the kidney thing, too.
He figures this late at night, though, nobody is going to call him out on it. So he pads his way on socked feet quietly into the kitchen, flicks on the light, and is immediately proven wrong when he finds Miky frozen with his hand halfway to the refrigerator door handle, looking similarly surprised to encounter another human being at such an ungodly hour.
"Ohhh shit," Miky says. "Ganked IRL."
It's enough to make them both start giggling. "Why are you still awake?" Marcin asks through his laughter.
"Why are you?" Miky asks.
"I'm hungry," Marcin says. "Don't laugh."
"I'm literally raiding the fridge as we speak," Miky points out.
"What were you gonna make?" Marcin asks.
Miky snorts. "I'm not gonna make anything, it's like 3 AM. I just wanted some chocolate milk or something."
"Miky," Marcin intones, "you can't just have chocolate milk if you're hungry. Make a sandwich or something."
"Too much work."
"Then let me cook something for you."
Miky squints at him. "That'll take too long."
"It means we can spend some time together," Marcin says with a wink. "Isn't that romantic, Miky?"
The response is immediate. "No."
"Mikyyy," Marcin whines. "You're the only one not to give me a special gift, and now you don't even want me to cook for you?"
"The cake wasn't enough?" Miky asks.
"It was nice, but—"
"What about giving everyone the idea to spread out those special gifts to make your birthday last longer?"
Marcin stops his whining. "That was… wait… you mean that was—"
"Yep," Miky says. "My idea!"
Marcin… didn't realize. "Really?"
"Yes," Miky says. "Just like the waffle cake was also my idea. Even if you thought I wouldn't come through."
"I didn't… I just thought…" Marcin flounders for an explanation. "I thought you'd think it was annoying."
"It was annoying," Miky says. "But I'm used to it. What, did you think I'd just ignore you?"
"That's usually what you do," Marcin says.
"Not on your birthday," Miky says.
"How am I supposed to know that?!" Marcin demands. "And why all the other… stuff, then?!"
"Because you kept asking for the cake!" Miky says. "And it's not a real gift if you're expecting it!"
"But I wasn't!"
"Clearly!"
"Oh my goodness," Marcin says, because this is silly. "Miky—I'm making you a waffle. As payback."
"What," Miky half-laughs.
"No arguments!" Marcin decrees as he goes to raid the cupboards. He's pleasantly surprised to see they do have everything he needs for the batter. "It won't take more than twenty minutes."
Miky trudges over to the counter and props his elbows on it, yawning expansively as Marcin turns on the waffle iron to start it heating up. "If anything, I'm the one who deserves to get payback. For you doubting me in the first place."
"I didn't doubt you, my boy," Marcin tells him. He starts mixing the ingredients for the batter in the first big bowl he finds. "I just know when I'm being a nuisance."
"Not that it ever stops you," Miky points out. Then he sighs. "Seriously, Jankos. This is the whole reason we did what we did."
"What is?"
"You're not a—" Miky indulges in an excessively heavy eyeroll. "You're not a nuisance on your birthday. Every other day, yes—"
"Heyyy," Marcin complains.
"But not on your birthday," Miky reemphasizes. "And, anyway, who cares if you're a nuisance? You're Jankos, it's just part of who you are, right?"
Marcin stops stirring the batter. "You're saying part of who I am is annoying?"
"Part of who you are is craving attention," Miky clarifies. "So we gave you attention."
And the thing is—Marcin absolutely can't argue with that. He thrives on attention, from his fans, from his followers, and especially from his friends. Because he appreciates his fans, he's grateful for all the people who take an interest in him… but he loves his team. Past and present members counted. They're a big part of what made him the person he is today, at a newly minted twenty-six years of age.
"Thanks," he says.
"Don't mention it," Miky tells him. Then: "Hang on, you've got waffle shit on your face."
"Waffle shit?" Marcin repeats. He swipes at his cheek.
"You're making it worse," Miky says. "No, stop—oh, my god, just come here."
He reaches out and brushes his thumb across Marcin's cheek. His hand lingers, palm warm on Marcin's skin, before he raises the other hand to cup Marcin's other cheek, holding his face in his hands.
"Happy birthday," he whispers. "You big idiot."
Kissing Miky, Jankos thinks, is a lot of things. But right now, given the circumstances, he can't help but feel like it's sort of like the Main Event—the waffle, if you will.
There can be a lot of delicious sugary shit all piled up, but without a base, without something pulling it all together, it's gonna be kind of confusing. But if there's a waffle to put it on—crispy on the outside, maybe, because the waffle likes to be a bit difficult about things—but warm and fluffy and oh so sweet after taking that first bite…
"I'm ready for my damn waffle now, by the way," Miky mumbles against Marcin's lips.
Marcin deposits the bowl of batter on the counter and sets his hands on Miky's hips instead, tugging him in closer. "You know, I think this is actually going to take longer than I thought."
"Ugh," Miky says. "Fine."
That first bite is what can turn an already good birthday into a great one.