Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He dreamed of a fever.

On his sweat-drenched bed, his small arms struggled weakly against the smothering blanket. It was hot, much too hot, until shivers sent winter’s cold down his body, then back again to unbearable heat.

The beginnings of speech formed in his throat, but without strength it only turned into a painful swallow. 

Foggy shapes of familiar objects tipped and churned endlessly, as if each tied to their own ocean.

The sight of his stuffed animals strewn about the floor sent him into a panic. No, no, that wasn’t right, the thought formed somewhere in his feverish haze. I need to pick them up…

His body would not move. Where were his parents? Where, where, where? 

With a reverberating shiver that brought a still cold to his body, he knew with absolute certainty that he was about to die.

Then, in his swaying vision, one of his stuffed animals began to 

slowly 

rise 

above the floor, held by the leg, caught in some unseen grip. 

“M..muh…” he tried to answer, feebly reaching out to the stuffed animal. Not ‘the stuffed animal’, that was Richard, the zebra…

Richard now dangled cruelly just above his shaking hand. Sweat droplets fell from his forehead onto his bed as he strained.

Something whispered to him.

He nodded with every ounce of strength he had left.

Richard was tossed onto his bed.

When Lucky groggily opened his eyes, he couldn’t remember what it was he had dreamed of. 

Stepping off onto the cold uncarpeted floor with a wince, he turned to make his bed, and was immediately confused to find that resting atop his duvet, a pale strip of leathery snakeskin was gleaming in the morning sun.

He sighed, threw it into his overfilled wastebasket, and started getting dressed.

Chapter Text

“36! 39! 69! Go!”

Out on the grass of the school field, he watched the other members of the newly-created “Rugby Club” run past as he gasped for air, his lanky frame swaying like a branch in the wind. Why had he signed up for this, again?

…’Rug-by’? What kind of sport is that?” he had asked when the chipper young man with flowing black locks approached him outside the front entrance after school. William, that was his name - the dark-skinned athletic prodigy was considered the school’s “golden boy,” a kind and boisterous all-star senior who certainly had no business speaking to a nobody like him. Maybe it’s part of “that,” he thought hopefully.

“It’s like football, it’s great fun! You should come join us, play some rounds. Maybe your luck will give you the edge!” he said, adjusting his green bandana and running through the crowd of leaving students towards the field out back. He let his gaze follow after Ellis’s trail - he was certainly no athlete, but he had a feeling that this was “a part of the script,” so to speak. Something good would happen, he was sure of it, and so he scooted through the bustling crowd of brightly dressed students, mumbling a slew of apologies to no one in particular as he did so, and made his way to the grassy field out back.

He was certainly no athlete. The group of vaguely familiar burly young men was in a huddle when he arrived, their torn-up white and black striped uniforms covered completely in soil. “Uh, I’m…here,” he spoke, the team’s loud chatter drowning him out. Of course, not a single one paid any attention to the talking beanstalk. He took a couple steps backwards and adjusted his glasses, considering leaving. Just as he had made up his mind, William called out to him - 

“Hey! Nice to see you made it, lucky guy! Come on in, join us!”

He gulped and nodded, shifting himself into the circle of players. Despite their intimidating frames, there weren't actually many players here. No wonder he resorted to inviting me, he thought as the others pointed blank stares at him.

One of them, a ginger-haired girl cheerleader wearing a cheer fit in gaudy school colors gave him a toothy grin Lucky thought was not dissimilar to a shark appraising its next meal. William’s gaze, however, was warm and excited - he couldn’t help but be drawn to his incredible energy, like a small flame getting taken in by a massive inferno.

“Alright, everyone, this is… ha, I don’t actually know your name yet, do I?” William put his hand behind his head, waiting for an answer. And although the obvious answer nearly came out, he suddenly felt a strange, tangible desire not to be ‘himself’.

He wanted to be… someone else. He wanted to try being a teammate. He wanted to try being liked - at least for now.

“Ah, just ‘Lucky’ is fine,” he said. No one blinked an eye. He exhaled a little with the lost weight.

William clapped the leather ball to his other hand. “Alright, nice to meet you then, Lucky! I’ll explain the basics, and you can pick up the rest on your own.”

He was certainly not an athlete. Clumsily running (if you could call it that) after the other players who were bouncing from one part of the field to the next like pinballs, Lucky heard the distant call of a player and turned to see who it was -

The blinding glare of the sun filled his vision, and as he moved his arms up to shield his eyes, a spinning projectile barrelled into his hands at full speed, sending him painfully tumbling to the ground. “Ow…”

Light footsteps muffled by grass made their way over to him as he groggily got up from the fetal position, the ball still cradled in his left hand. “What…”

“Damn, Lucky! Nice one!” One of the boys pulled him up to his feet as he dusted himself off. 

“Huh?” he said, staring at the blonde-haired boy, still failing to catch his breath.

“Look down,” the stranger said, pointing to his feet. “You’re in the point zone. You just scored a touchdown for your team, dummy,” he laughed, as if it was obvious. His laugh was surprisingly soft and melodic, instilled with a playful gentleness - needless to say, Lucky liked it.

“Oh,” Lucky replied, “that’s nice,” falling back to the ground.

“Hey, you alright?”

Lucky’s head hurt. Getting up onto his arms, he looked around - still on the field, just lying on a bench in the sidelines as the players darted from one side to the other, the cheerleader doing a funny sort of dance(?) and waving (flailing) pom-poms on the grass. And next to him, the blonde-haired boy from earlier sat and patiently watched him for a response.

“Yeah, I’m- I’m okay.” (He was not. He felt terribly nauseous and really hoped he wasn’t about to throw up.) “How… about you?” (He immediately felt colossally stupid.)

He raised an eyebrow, but smiled, clearly amused by Lucky’s catastrophic lack of brain cells. “Well, I’m good, thanks for asking. But you kinda look like shit. Are you sure you signed up for the right team?”

Even dazed from just taking a nap, Lucky’s recognition of the jab instantly made him flush with annoyance, looking down at his soil-covered clothes reflexively.  “What - yes, I did! I’m perfectly fine!”

“Okay, okay, I believe you!” The stranger laughed, holding his hands out and nodding repeatedly in a pseudo-bow of apology.  “I’m just making sure you’re alright, man. We were all really worried about you, you know.”

Lucky relaxed himself and stared at the grass. “Well, it’s not like I…” he let himself trail off, the point at which most of his conversations would end. 

“Not like you…what?” 

He raised his gaze to meet the boy’s dark brown eyes. He couldn’t quite tell if they were eyes full of kindness, cruelty, amusement, sincerity… he felt like in those eyes anything could be equally true, and it irritated him as much as it interested him.

Lucky suddenly felt very self-conscious, and returned his eyes to the ground. “I just… I’m not an athlete, that’s all.”

“Then why’d you come?” His voice lilted with another light chuckle that made Lucky suddenly feel quite defensive.

“I don’t know, I just -” His heart burned in his chest as he turned to face the stranger, continuing: “Why do you care?”

The boy held his shoulders up with mock defensiveness. “What, can’t a guy care about his teammate?”

But more than that, Lucky instantly hooked himself onto the fact that the boy had called him his teammate. The sound was just so very sweet in his ears, the masculine ideals of camaraderie and brotherhood he’d never even come close to ever experiencing suddenly bubbling up from some weird part of him he’d never really considered.

And from the particular way he said it, the yet-poking-fun, the light-hearted tone, Lucky had a tiny, tiny piece of hope. Hope that this unserious, unbothered boy did not just want to speak to him out of concern for a teammate. Out of…  interest. In him. God, I’m pathetic.

Anyway, he was not a ‘teammate,’ Lucky thought, he would never be a ‘teammate’, and this ‘charming’ jock was clearly treating him as some sort of spectacle. “I probably need to get back home now,” he stammered, getting up from the bench. 

“Ah, that sucks. Our session’s actually about to end, and William treats new guys to shakes at Bentley’s. Maybe next time though.” The stranger got up and started jogging back to the huddle where William was waving to him. 

“Wait -” Invisible strings pulled Lucky up from his seat as the boy turned around. “I think I can come too.”

He smiled and gave a thumbs up.

Chapter Text

He had only ever come to Bentley’s alone.

The rowdy diner was a common hotspot for students to come hang out after school, the cushiony red seats at each bright white table consistently filled with the exact kind of people Lucky wanted to get away from after school - naturally, the only times he would visit were much later in the evening, if his mom was too tired to make dinner. 

The five members of the Rugby Club (and Lucky) strode through the glass door at the entrance and moved into the table towards the back on the right side. Lucky, having entered at the back of the group, ended up on the outermost side of the seat beside the curly-haired, tan-skinned kid with black ear piercings. Dominic was his name, “but that’s a right mouthful, you can just call me Dom,” he had said.

To his left by the window was Lily, the young twin-tailed cheerleader who had introduced herself on the way to Bentley’s, currently fiddling with her blue hair ties while kicking the back of the seat in boredom. 

Lucky had sat next to her on the bus ride there - 

“What’d you sign up for, squirt?” He’d flinched when she spoke, her voice just a little too loud. 

“W-what - ?”

“I’m asking why you’re on the team, doofus. Golly, I mean, you nearly died out there! You’re like a street cat in a thunderstorm.” She giggled as she spoke.

“Um… I don’t know…” he had replied with trademark eloquence.

“Uh huh. Well, anyway, new guy, my name’s Lily,” she said, shoving her hand in his face to shake. “The best cheerleader at Lutheria and don’t-you-forget-it!”

“Also the only cheerleader,” Dom piped in from across the aisle.

“I’ll kill you,” Lily called back across.

“Do you also play with them?” Lucky had nervously asked, attempting to make some semblance of conversation.

“What? No. But I could, if I really wanted to. I can do aaaaaanything .” She gave him another shark-mouth smile.

She caught him staring at her during his lengthy recollection and waved her hand around to wake him. He mumbled an apology.

William, a short guy with tousled brown hair and glassy blue eyes named Eli, and the blonde-haired kid who was now pulling his uniform off took their seats across from him. He had managed to gain Eli’s name through osmosis of the group conversations, but the stranger’s name had somehow eluded him. He was frustrated at the prospect of having to ask.

“-hey, Lucky!” 

“Whuh?” He snapped out of his thoughts and looked up. Lucky had probably been personally addressed more today than he had been all year.

William was pulling his headband off while pushing the menu towards him. “What kind of shake do you want? You can get whatever you want  - it’s on me this time! You’re in the Rugby Club now, so you’ve gotta get some meat on those bones.”

“Oh, uh, that’s really… Nice of you. But I can pay for myself-”

“Nuh-uh. What you’re gonna learn about me, Lucky, what your teammates already know, is that I look out for my mates. Next week, you can pay for your own meals all you want, but let me spot you this time.” He put his headband in his pocket and smiled, leaving no room for debate.

“Yes, but you won’t spot us at the bowling alley, or the skating rink…” Eli chuckled, his arms crossed in front of him coyly as he laughed from beside William.

“Hey! That doesn’t count - not club activities! I’m not made of money, you know!” 

Listening to the banter at the table, Lucky smiled to himself and opened his menu. 

He stared for a long time, not really reading - he already knew most of the stuff on there, but he just wanted something for his hands to do, something that would show that he was busy. He wanted to just listen.

And as the others bantered and chatted about this and that, he realized that someone’s voice was missing. The blonde-haired boy from earlier. When the high-heeled server came over to take their orders, he didn’t order anything at all. 

“Hey, man, are you sure?” William turned to ask. 

“Yeah, I already ate earlier.” His tone was gentle but left no room for debate. The conversation hit a dead end, and Lucky found himself feeling obligated to contribute in some way.

“So did any of you hear the new D&T record?” he asked, adjusting his glasses.

“Ah, you like the Trumpeters? Their music is quite fascinating,” Eli said to him from across the table, placing his elbows down. “I’m a listener myself, but have you heard of the New Collins Orchestra? They’re very similar. They released a record recently too by the name of ‘Scarecrow’, and it sounds a lot like the Trumpeters’ more… passionate work-“

“ Neeeeeeerd, ” Lily interrupted him playfully.

“I am not,” Eli replied.

Lucky couldn’t help but notice Eli’s concise, polite manner of speaking - very different from anyone else he’d met, an interesting (if a bit off-putting) kind of trait. “Ah, that sounds cool. I’ll check it out next time I’m at the record store, then.”

“Good idea. You know, I was quite surprised that William invited you - you have a somewhat lackluster physique, but it seems your ‘ability’ pulled through for you. Let’s just hope it’s not only ‘beginner’s luck’.” He chuckled blithely to himself.

Lucky weakly laughed along. “Yeah, haha…” He had barely paid attention - he felt distracted.

“I told you I know how to pick ‘em! He’s a winner, just wait and see…”

He was looking at the blonde-haired stranger, who was looking out the window.

“You said that when you invited Richie, too, remember?” Dom tapped his fingers on the table as he spoke.

His brown eyes were now full of something very recognizable. Something Lucky could understand. It hurt to watch.

“Hey now, Richie was an outlier, y’hear? My record’s spotless if you don’t count him in.”

A tall glass full of white vanilla shake filled his vision.

“Food’s here!”

The sky flowed with pink and blue. 

When the Rugby Club poured out of Bentley’s, the sun was already beginning to set - the city horizon lit up in brilliant pastel tones as they stepped onto the pavement. His mom used to tell him these were the “cotton candy hours,” explaining that God was having a carnival in the sky. He had no clue what God was actually doing right now, but when the world looked this pretty, he figured things had to be going alright.

“Alright, I’m heading back - see you guys on the field tomorrow! And don’t be late, or Coach Ellis is gonna make you do a hundred sit-ups!” William waved to them cheerfully and started jogging down a different street.

“...A hundred?” Lucky asked aloud. He’d probably die. 

Dom laughed. “Nah, bruv, he’s just messing with you. Well,” he tilted his head from side to side in consideration, “kind of.”

“Kind of?”

Dom, Lily, and Eli were already walking off down another block, their idle chat drowning out Lucky’s remark. Better not be late, then. He wondered if he was in over his head. Of course he was in over his head - his body would never be able to keep up with such a rigorous sport, and from what he’d seen of the others getting tackled, he’d get eaten alive if they ever played against an actual team…

The blonde-haired boy put his outfit over his shoulder and silently stopped at the light post in front of him, waiting for the light to change. In the dim evening light, his tall frame appeared almost statuesque - from where he was standing, he was illuminated partially by the eerie white glare of the lamp. Despite the bright light, it didn’t catch well onto him because of his black t-shirt. Not just any black t-shirt, Lucky had thought when he saw it earlier: there was a familiar logo embroidered into its pocket.

“Hey, you, um - ” The stranger turned around and glared at him. His serious look immediately took Lucky off guard, the lighting now fully catching onto the lines in his face, the furrow of his brow…

“What?” He sounded exasperated, the warmth of their earlier conversation completely gone. Oh, I see, Lucky thought, his hands instinctively moving to adjust his glasses. I’ve made a mistake. This was a mistake…

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just thought- your shirt, it’s D&T, isn’t it?” Shut up, you idiot! “We- we were, uh, talking about them earlier, but you didn’t say anything, so I…” His voice trailed off before being replaced by the stranger’s, who had turned his gaze away.

“Yeah, I…” The boy exhaled, his breath materializing under lamplight and late autumn chill. “I like them, I guess. I liked their first record, anyway. I still haven’t heard the most recent one.”

Lucky walked over to the side of the curb, taking a place on his side of the street, where his light had already changed. “Why not?”

The boy looked out at the passing cars and scratched his head vacantly. “Just don’t own it, I guess.” And then, turning to face him - “what do you care?”

“...We’re teammates, right?”

For a brief moment his eyes lit with recognition, then quickly turned back towards the street, hiding his expression, saying nothing, the silence speaking for itself. God, I’m so fucking lame…

The light was changing, and Lucky could feel a tightness in his chest - he wanted to see the boy’s face. He wanted to know his name, and feel that warmth that he had felt earlier with him… Just as easily could he wait for the light to change, turn onto his street, and forget about this feeling, to remain parallel but not intersecting. But watching the boy stand on the street, Lucky couldn’t help but feel like he was disappearing, like he’d lose him as soon as he looked away.

Before he could stop himself, he opened his mouth. “Hey, I’ve got-” 

The yellow light shifted into red, signaling the stream of cars now stopping at the crossing. Damn it. But the stranger didn’t cross, just stood suspended, seemingly waiting for an excuse not to. 

Lucky didn’t know what gave him the right, but he wanted to be that excuse.

“Do you want to… maybe listen with me?” Idiot. “If- if you’re not, you know, doing anything right…now.” It was all in your head. He doesn’t want to go with you. “Or it doesn’t have to be right now, I-”

He turned, and Lucky saw that his face had warmth again, the stress lines and furrows relaxing into something gentle. Vulnerable, even. The boy gave a soft smile, then nodded up-and-down with that unserious rhythm, as if admitting some kind of defeat.

“Sure.”

Chapter Text

By the time their bus had arrived at walking distance from Lucky’s house, the sky was completely dark, partially lit by faint stars. It was just one of many things Lucky had preferred when he had lived in the countryside - the city smog ensured that the sky at night wasn't nearly as impressive as it was back then. Whenever he looked out his window at night, he wondered if his old friends were watching the sky with him, counting all the stars he could no longer see.

It had been a long time since he watched the stars with someone else, though. 

Lucky hauled the vinyl player out of the house and shut the door quietly behind him. As he stepped out, he waved a little to the blonde-haired boy, who had been waiting with his hands under his arms. Both giggling a little at the situation, Lucky led him around the house to his backyard.

Climbing the incline of the hill out back to the crunch crunch crunch of fallen leaves, he tried his best to ignore that his hands were slick with nervous sweat, and sat down criss-cross underneath the tree. The boy did the same, leaning against the tree with his hands together and putting one leg over the other as he did so.

From up on the dark greenery of the hill, Lucky could see from over his fence the lights of the highway, which pulsed frequently with swiftly passing automobiles and cast chasing shadows on the grass. The thrum of cars accelerating was ever-constant, but every so often there was a moment of pure stillness.

Now was a moment of pure stillness. Here, the shape of the boy next to him was everything, his gentle features illuminated by the highway lights, his eyes currently fixed on the moving cars.

His eyes were - were pretty , Lucky thought. He could not think of an excuse in his mind to think so. And yet they were.

And then, softly - 

“Dude, you bought one of those?” the blonde-haired boy whispered, looking over at the turntable vinyl player.

His voice was tempered with the apologetic reverence of those who shouldn’t be awake to disturb the night. The bustle of cars drowned him out a bit.

“Ah, yeah, I actually got it a few days ago… Seems like a lot of people are buying them now.” Lucky fumbled with the vinyl, slipping it out of its paper packaging and inserting it into the player. DONNIE AND THE TRUMPETERS - TO THE END was scrawled hastily on it using a red marker. 

The boy stared at it, then back at him.

“You’re loaded, aren’t you?”

Lucky let out a laugh. “I’m not!”

“Uh huh. Record player boy. Oh, sorry, vinyl player.”

He laughed and shook his head, adjusting the record on the turntable. Lucky didn’t feel like explaining that this strange and wonderful machine was the only major purchase he’d been allowed to make with his former stash of gambling money. 

He pressed play and moved to lie on the cool damp grass beside the boy and the player. The first trumpets of the instrumental were harsh, booming, and achingly familiar.

“When the sky is full…” The vocalist for this band had a raspy voice that Lucky liked.

“Of a big red star… I’ll still wait for you…” The boy shifted slightly, his head tilting with the rhythm.

No, no, no. Lucky couldn’t focus. How could he possibly?

Mere feet from him, the stranger in a black t-shirt. The boy with stress lines, bushy eyebrows, and pretty dark brown eyes. He didn’t even know his name and yet he had invited him to gaze at whatever stars the city sky was willing to give up and listen to weird music late at night. Lucky swallowed. Suddenly he felt so self-conscious. Why had he done this, again?

“Oh, yeah, the old drummer quit for this album, huh?” the boy next to him said, his hands tapping on his chest to the beat. 

“...Yeah, I think the new guy’s name - it’s, um, Billie Phalanx, or something.”

He laughed and continued tapping. “Well, whatever his name is, it’s good. Which song is this?”

“First track is called ‘Button Eyes’, I think.”

“Huh. They’re really leaning into the ‘witchy’ vibe for this one.”

“Yeah, it’s - it’s good.” Lucky’s voice trailed to a whisper.

And then, for a very long time, neither one said anything. 

They watched the cars pass by and occasionally looked up at the stars, listening to the Trumpeters’ bizarre, ruthlessly improvisational fever dream of an album. Lucky could hear his own heartbeat even through the music - did the boy hear it too? During the most intense parts, Lucky would sometimes look over and see the boy’s hands going wild mimicking drums or an upright bass, totally lost in the music, his hair partially swept over one side… And sometimes the boy would look back, his eyes huge and excited - 

“It’s good, right?” Lucky relaxed enough to crack a smile.

He nodded emphatically in response. “ Really good. Oh man, after this you have to show me the track list again.” 

Until finally, after much time spent listening and commenting to each other - “ the solo is so good here, ” “ this one has to be my favorite,” or even just a whispered “holy shit”, the frenzied brass petered out into a low acoustic thimble, and then into nothingness.

The nothingness lasted just long enough for Lucky to fully realize the patent absurdity of this situation, the casual vulnerability with which he had been lying next to a boy he barely knew, a boy whose name he didn’t even know.

“Wow,” said the boy, sitting up and looking over at Lucky with a reverent expression on his face. “That was awesome, I - thanks for letting me listen with you.”

“Hey, aren’t we, um… doing this out of order?” Lucky asked quietly, sitting up and letting his fingers trail over each other.

“Huh?” the boy asked, hauling himself upright as Lucky looked over at him.

“I- I mean, I don’t even know your name yet, but I… that was really nice, I guess? But I don’t even know your name!” 

The boy nodded in understanding, then looked out towards the highway. “Well, I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” 

“W-wait, what? I’ve already told you my name!”

“Not that,” the stranger said, looking back at him. “Your name name. Or is that your name…name ? ”

Lucky fell back onto the grass and put his hands over his eyes. He knew he would have to, obviously. So why did he suddenly feel so self-conscious? Did he still think this boy only wanted “Lucky”? Did he only want “Lucky”? 

Lucky considered this for a moment, then took his hands off of his eyes. “Fine, but you really have to tell me your name, too. And don’t laugh.”

They looked at each other. For the first time, Lucky felt like he was finally seeing the boy plainly: those eyes no longer contained the dizzying possibilities of everything, but now shined like a marble block that was slowly allowing itself definition into a statue, whatever that statue may be.

More importantly, there was warmth - there was presence, there was interest. Interest in Lucky - he hadn’t realized just how much he needed it.

He hadn’t realized how cold he had been.

“Okay, it’s…”

“ Pff, hahaha! ” The boy - 

Eric laughed out loud. 

…Just as August knew he would.

“ Aaaaaghh, I literally told you not to laugh and you still did it anyway!!” He continued laughing as August threw his hands up in frustration.  

“No, no, dude, I swear I’m not laughing at your name, it’s just - when you said ‘don’t laugh’, I thought it was going to be something really, really dumb like Bartholomew or something…” 

August placed his hand on his forehead, burning with embarrassment. “I wasn’t even born in August…”

But… Eric. Somehow, this was the only possible name for him, he decided: nothing else would do. Not all names sounded correct for the owner, but this one quite conclusively did.

“Okay, well, do you want me to call you Lucky or August? Or some other nickname? I could call you Aug if you want-”

“Absolutely not,” Lucky cut him off immediately, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him, leading to more laughter from Eric. “Lucky is fine, ok? Lucky is just fine by me.”

Eric stood up and held out his hand. Lucky took it and stood with him on the hill, the faint whooshing of cars passing by getting drowned out by his heartbeat. “I think we- I need to get going,” Lucky said, adjusting his glasses and lifting up the vinyl player with a grunt.

“Hey, tomorrow me and the Rugby Club are going bowling after practice. Wanna come? I bet you’d be really good at it,” Eric said, casually keeping Lucky’s hand in his, rotating it around and around while leading him back towards the house. Huh? 

“Y-you have no idea,” Lucky said, trying desperately to maintain composure. Oh god, my hand must be so sweaty. Is it normal for my heart to be all messed up like this? This is a normal ‘friend’ thing, right? 

“Haha, I bet your luck comes… in handy… holy shit.” He had turned around and was looking up at the night sky they’d left behind. And when Lucky turned around - 

The world was alight with flying stars. 

The sky which had been so barren, containing only faint markers where radiant stars should be, was now peppered with shooting stars as plentiful as raindrops, brilliantly blazing across the sky, lighting everything up, causing drivers on the highway to stop at the side of the road and look up…

“Oh…” Lucky couldn’t think of anything to say. 

“What an incredible view,” Eric said, looking out at the spectacle. Lucky wasn’t watching with him - the stars and the moon he could always see from his window.

But Eric’s shining face, lit up by wonder and surprise, was the most beautiful sight he could ever ask for. “Oh, hey! You should make a wish!”

Lucky didn’t need to. His wish had already come true.

Chapter Text

“Um, the chicken, please,” Lucky said to the dull-eyed server as she shoveled a helping of rock-hard chicken tenders onto his plate. The school food left a lot to be desired, and typically this was his cue to walk out into the hall and find a place to sit, but today, Lucky held his head up and walked over to the sea of tables, the usually maddening sound of student chattering instead becoming mere noise, the backdrop to his victory…

Well, he might have been exaggerating in his head a little bit. Things were pretty much the same.

Yes, Lucky was glowing with happiness as he strode through the cafeteria, but it didn’t make him feel any bolder. He wasn’t about to go sit at a table full of random people, introduce himself, make small talk, and make a couple new friends as the protagonist of a story might do. But he at least glanced around at the array of students as he walked to his old spot in the corner, and as he did, one caught his eye -

The upright figure of Eric, sitting at a round table occupied by another boy with curly blonde hair, William (who was scarfing down a salad), and Eli, who was fiddling with a hand puzzle at hyperspeed. Lucky stood still for a moment - it sure would be nice if he turned around right now, he thought.

Ten seconds passed. No dice. As nice as it was to just stare at Eric from a distance, he realized that he would probably have to make the first move and walk over to the table.

Lucky had never been good at making the first move. Stuck standing, he felt a slew of awful thoughts trickle into his head, a sudden torrent of cold truths whirling around and dispelling the warmth he had felt, the happiness that had wreathed him and gotten him through the entire day now slipping through his fingers - 

Dumbass.

There’s no way he actually likes you. Did you think he would?

The others don’t want you there. Look at them talking - you’re not needed or wanted. He’ll be embarrassed of you. That night you spent together meant nothing to him, isn’t it obvious? You won’t ever be that open with him again. He’ll leave you behind…

Eric was looking at him, his face lit up in recognition. His stress lines relaxed around his gorgeous smile - Lucky felt his cheeks flush with warmth, the cold already receding towards the back of his mind. Entranced, he walked over to their table and took the open seat next to Eric, across from Eli and William.

“Hey, good to have you. Guess we’ve been in the same lunch period this whole time, huh?” Lucky realized his intense proximity to Eric and scooted over a little. “Y-yeah,” he barely managed to get out, placing his tray onto the table, trying to hide his blush.

“Hello, Lucky. Welcome to our little conclave,” Eli called from across the table, his hands still shifting the wooden puzzle as he spoke. “Unfortunately, Lily and Dominic are in another lunch period, but we may keep you company, if you wish.” Lucky nodded, feeling a familiar warmth at Eli’s simple gesture of friendship.

Eric looked over at Lucky, still chewing as he spoke. “Hey, you’re good to come with us after practice, right? Bowling at DW’s, be there or be square and all that.”

“Ah, yeah, I’ll come too!” They locked eyes for a moment - Lucky hoped Eric couldn’t see his suspicious enthusiasm, that it was mostly just an excuse to spend more time with him. Damn, but I’m going to have to go to practice too… it’s worth it, though, but I might pass out…

Eli interrupted his thoughts. “By the way, Lucky, I would love to discuss music with you while we’re there. Have you listened to the New Collins Orchestra yet?”

Lucky scratched his head sheepishly, looking over at Eli’s face, nestled in the hood of a sweatshirt. “Oh, sorry, I haven’t yet. It’s only been… a day, so…”

“No problem at all. One of their more popular songs is actually on some radio stations right now, it’s called ‘ Gnykorr and Hadar. ’ Maybe you will hear it soon.”

For some reason, the way he phrased it sent shivers down Lucky’s spine - without a trace of proposition and all the certainty in the world. “...Sure, um, okay.”

“MMM!” William slammed his fork onto the table. “Fellas! As your captain, coach and friend I must intervene! What is this dreck you are consuming!”

Lucky looked down at his tray. “Uhh… chicken tenders and peas?” 

William shook his head. “Not enough protein! That chicken’s mostly breading and you know it. You gotta make your diet better-balanced than that or you’ll stay a bean sprout your whole life. You too, Eric! Second day in a row you’ve barely got scraps on your plate!”

Eric looked over at him and chuckled. “Sorry, coach.”

William raised an eyebrow and put his arms on the table, suddenly serious. “No apologies in the Rugby Club. But no one ever won a game on an empty stomach.” Then, jolting with energy, “Alright! I’m done, see you all at practice! Don’t be late - the Ellis-patented situps are very real!”

He got up and brought his tray over to the trash can. Eric looked over at Lucky before standing up with his almost entirely empty tray.

“Well, guess we’d better not be late, yeah?”

He was late.

“Thirty-one… thirty-two… thirty…” Under the shackle of the Coach’s inflicted regime, Lucky could barely breathe, much less count. Up and down he went, muscles sore, his body hurting in places he didn’t know could hurt.

“Thirty… three! Thirty… four! ” Lily enthusiastically counted along much too loud, doing her funny little pom-pom dance from beside him. Uuuuuuugh. There was no shot he was finishing this.

Then he’d look down and see Eric holding his feet for him and watching expectantly, and he’d breathe a little before going up again. Yeah, I can do this.

“Okay, Lucky! Love the enthusiasm!” William was stretching above him, his black locks of hair swaying as he moved from side to side. “Though maybe next time you’ll get here a bit earlier, haha!”

“It…was…a minute… after!” Lucky wheezed, his lanky frame heaving with each motion. 

“Less complaining, more training! You got this!”  William ran over to join Eli and Dom, who were chatting in the center of the field. 

“ Thirty- Ah!” Lily yelped, running after the group.

Eric leaned over to him. “Hey, uh, you can probably just do this for like thirty more seconds and it’ll be fine, he won’t care or anything. I’ve had to do the same thing a million times.”

Lucky considered this - he really considered this. But looking down at Eric, a more intense desire made itself apparent: looking cool in front of the guy he liked. “N-no, I’m good! I’ll…keep going,” Lucky insisted, raising his sweat-covered body back up for another situp, holding his glasses in place as he did so. When he rose to the top, he could see that Eric was smiling at him. 

“Nice. That’s thirty-six.”

He could do this all day.

He could not do this all day.

By the end of the session, he was once again passed-out on the bench, this time from a concussion received when an overzealous Eli slammed into him at full force. Oof, that still hurts, Lucky thought when he woke up, now holding an ice pack to his forehead with his worried teammates surrounding his bench.

“I am so sorry, Lucky, I should have been more careful!” Eli blathered at him in a stream of apologies as William passed him a bottle of water.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine, Eli,” Lucky assured him. Even so, he could sense some measure of dishonesty in the apology - the tackle had surely been measured in its impact, perhaps with his safety coming as an afterthought. Maybe he’s secretly the competitive type, Lucky wondered.

“Cripes, dude,” Lily chimed in, her pom-poms resting on her hips. “Ain’t you supposed to be lucky? I’ve never seen a fella eat dirt as much as you out he- oof! ” Her comment was cut off by a swift elbow to the side from Dom.

William waved them away, giving Lucky a rough pat on the back. “I’m glad you’re okay, big guy! But you really gotta be more careful. That’s twice in a row, and I don’t want any more team members dead by the end of the semester…” 

Any more? Hopefully that was just dark humor, Lucky shivered. Noticing his reaction, William laughed lightly. “Oh, I’m just kidding. But let’s keep it at zero, yeah?”

 “Are we… still going to DW’s?”

Dom walked over from the back of the group, his uniform covered in sweat. “Yeah, but are you sure you’re good to go?” 

Lucky nodded vigorously. He didn’t want to go home yet. More importantly -

“Where’s Eric?”

“Oh, he’s just getting some water right now. If you’re sure you’re okay, we’re gonna head out as soon as he gets back.” Dom picked up the ball and brought it over to its basket. Lucky kicked his feet around - he felt kind of insulted that Eric hadn’t been with the others, but he didn’t want to let it show. “Sure, let’s go.”

“Ah, sorry…”

Lucky shifted through the standing riders towards the back of the bus, where Eric, Eli, Lily, William, and Dom were already sitting and chatting. He awkwardly placed himself in the corner next to Eric and pushed his legs together to avoid taking up too much space.

“Glad to see you’re alright, Mr. Accident Prone,” Eric quipped, nudging his shoulder. “Are you excited for bowling? I don’t know how much you’ve bowled before, but I can teach you some tricks.”

“S-sure.” Lucky smiled weakly, then looked out the window, unable to look him in the eyes. Why are you being so stupid? He obviously didn’t mean anything by it.

“DW’s isn’t the best bowling spot, but we go there ‘cause it’s cheaper. You brought shoes, right?”

“Yeah, it’s… an old pair…”

“Hey, are you ok? You seem kinda out of it,” Eric said, gently placing his hand on Lucky’s shoulder. Stupid. He obviously doesn’t mean anything by it.

“I…” Lucky began, about to say “I’m alright,” realizing that he definitely wasn’t and hesitantly turning to face the ground, still not ready to look at him. “I just… why’d you run off earlier?”

“Run off?” Eric questioned.

“Yeah, earlier, I… I got hurt and you just left to get some water. Everyone else was… there. But you weren’t…”

Eric’s hand was warm, but it didn’t comfort him. Lucky moved away.

“Well, I…” He furrowed his brow, seeming to think carefully about how he would respond. “I’m sorry I left you when you were hurt. It wasn’t on purpose or anything. But also…”

Also?

“I hope you can see that everyone on the team really likes you, really cares about you, and doesn’t want to see you hurt. Not just…” He cut off the sentence with an exhale.

Huh?

That… makes sense, but…

Lucky looked up at Eric, his stress lines fully traced across his face, his dark brown eyes full of conflict.

“What… about you?” The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

Eric’s eyes refocused and returned to Lucky’s face, as though he had come back down to earth from somewhere far away.

“Do you…”

“...really care about me?”

For a long moment Eric said nothing, his lips slightly open, and Lucky could only hear the low hum of the bus moving, the chatter of their teammates, and his own heartbeat. 

Stupid. 

You obviously don’t mean anything to him.

And Eric nodded -

“Of course I do. We’re… teammates , aren’t we?” The word was full of that breathy insincerity Eric had sometimes, the strain of a childish joke blanketing something raw and truthful.

Lucky shook his head. “That’s not…” 

There was another silence.

Eric swallowed and pulled Lucky to face him, an expression he hadn’t seen before swirling on his face. Lucky could feel his heart race in his chest.

“Lucky, I…”

“...we’re not just teammates, and it’s - not easy to put into words.”

“P-please,” Lucky stammered, adjusting his glasses anxiously, feeling Eric’s hands on his shoulders. “Try.” He didn’t want to let go of these feelings - or allow them to disappear. He had to know.

Eric’s reply was in little more than a whisper, looking down as he spoke.

“I’m afraid that… what you want from me… and what I want from you… isn’t going to be the same. And… that’s scary. ” He allowed himself a nervous laugh. I’ve never… wanted something different. Does that…make sense?”

Before he could convince himself otherwise,

Lucky placed his hands on Eric’s arms and pulled him close, resting his hands on his back. 

“What if I want?”

Lucky spoke in a whisper, the feel of Eric in his arms drowning out his thoughts. One, or both of them, was shaking. 

“A-and - what if we just do whatever we want? What if - this is whatever we want it to be?”

For a time, Eric didn’t reply, only placing his arms around Lucky in wordless understanding.

“I want, too,” Eric eventually murmured in Lucky’s ear. “And saying it out loud is really scary. But I do. I just don’t want that… that time we had to be the exception, you know?”

The shaking turned into waves of breathing, one against another, up and down.

Lucky leaned on his shoulder the rest of the ride.

Chapter Text

“Yesss! That’s how you do it, baby! That’s what I’ve been waiting for - that’s what it’s all about!”

William pumped his fists in the air and strode off the slick bowling area back towards the cushy black seats. Surprisingly, he wasn’t very good at bowling - this strike was most certainly an outlier in his strikingly unimpressive score. “Your turn, Eli,” he cheered, taking a seat next to the reclining figure of Dom and eagerly grabbing a slice of pizza from the table. 

“Well, if I must,” Eli chuckled, his footsteps echoing across the vacant bowling alley. Tonight was a slow night - only one family was bowling nearby, in the lane adjacent to the Rugby Club. Eli had been wiping the floor with them all night - Dom was the closest in points, with Lily, Eric and Victor not too far behind. William was slightly below Lucky in points - Lucky, who had never bowled before, had been dead last, so Eric had taught him what he knew:

“ Just let it hang really low to the ground,” he said. “ I’m actually also pretty bad at bowling. But that way you can at least control it.”

It hadn’t helped much - Lucky wasn’t very good at taking direction. Finally he just let his luck take the wheel, closing his eyes and tossing it out however he felt like - sometimes this worked, and sometimes it didn’t, but he felt it was probably better than fumbling it into the gutter through his own lack of skill. It was only through this that he’d managed to get an edge up on the somewhat clumsy William, an edge that was now rapidly decaying with the athlete’s new strategy - simply flinging the ball at maximum speed down the lane. It was working.

Lily was the one throwing now, still wearing her dirt-streaked cheerleader outfit from earlier. When she lobbed the ball down the lane, it landed squarely, demolishing the remaining pins.

“Yeaaaaaahh!!!” She cheered, jumping up and down. “Sttttttttrike!”

“Hey, good toss, Lily!” William cheered from the seats.

“That is a spare,” Eli commented.

“A what?” Lily turned to face him, her giddy face dripping with sweat. 

“When you use your second throw to eliminate the remaining pins,” Eli explained, “it is a spare, not a strike.”

Lily kept staring at him intensely, breathing from exertion. “Oh, so it’s a strike, but for, like, when you’re takin’ a second crack at it!” she nodded comprehendingly. Eli pursed his lips, looking like he wanted to elaborate further, but didn’t pursue the issue.

As Eli stepped up to the lane, Lucky knew he didn’t even have to watch - a strike again, just like every single one before it. 

Lucky leaned over to Eric, who was taking a sip of cola. “Eli really is good at bowling, huh?” 

Eric looked at him and shook his head, then motioned towards Eli. “He’s usually not so good. Definitely not like this, at least. Dunno if he’s been practicing lately or what.”

“Huh.” Lucky reached over and stole a sip of his cola.

Eric laughed and took the cup back. “Stealing my drink now?”

“I’m a little thirsty,” Lucky said matter-of-factly, trying to hide his smile as he adjusted his glasses. 

“Oh, sure,” Eric teased, spinning the ice around the glass before taking another sip. It was in moments like this that he seemed so mature  - stress lines making him look older aside, some of his mannerisms struck Lucky as patently adult.

It kind of made him wonder if he’d been forced to grow up faster than others, or something like that... Lucky figured it probably wasn’t a good time to bring something like that up. After all, even with their connection, he didn’t know very much at all about Eric, and he didn’t want to hurl any intrusive questions at him.

Time, he thought. We have all the time in the world. That’s a really nice thought.

But, as long as they had time now…

“So… how did you end up joining, anyway?” He figured the club was a good place to start.

“Rugby?” Eric took a sip of his soda. “I dunno. I guess it was ‘cause my parents wanted me to take up a sport. And I was already friends with William, so… when he asked me to join, it was kinda obvious. I’m better at lacrosse though,” he added.

Lucky nodded. “Are you close with the others? Besides William, I mean.”

“Well, yeah, sure,” Eric said, looking over at him. “I’m closest with Eli since he’s in a lot of my classes, but I hang with Dom a lot.”

“What about Lily?” He was curious how the others saw such a striking character.

His face darkened. “Lily… Lily is…” He looked down at the floor. “You weren’t here last year, were you?”

“No,” Lucky replied. “I transferred.”

Eric sighed. “Lily’s brother Simon used to go to this school. Me and him were close last year, he came to Rugby Club sometimes with Lily. He was a really nice guy, and huge into horse racing, but… there was an accident at the track. He stopped coming to school after that.”

“Did he… die?” Lucky felt blindsided by the sudden sadness of the conversation.

“No, he survived, but just barely. He’s never going back to the way he was. And Lily changed too... She joined the Rugby Club so she could continue cheerleading after the racetrack shut down, but she’s really - different from how she used to be. She loved Simon a lot. Still does.”

“Oh,” Lucky said softly. “That’s awful, I-“

“Your turn, Lucky!”

Lucky started back to reality and got up from his seat, pulling a medium-weight ball from the group, closing his eyes, and confidently tossing it high - this one clunked down on the greased lane and landed squarely in the center of the pins, knocking them all across. Strike.

“Hey, nice one!” The other members of the team cheered except Eli, who was simply looking on, stone-faced. Huh? 

“Thanks, I’ll - I’m gonna quickly use the bathroom, be right back, guys.” 

Something didn’t feel quite right.

When he came back, William was cheering, the pins cleanly swept in a heap at the end of the lane.

“Yeah, let’s go!! You see that?! Who do you think you are?? I am, baby!! Woo!”

Lucky turned to see Dom and Lily cheering from the seats, the former already standing up to take his turn. But - 

“Hey, um, where’d Eli and Eric go?” Lucky adjusted his glasses nervously, asking no one in particular.

“Oh, they just stepped out to get some air,” Dom replied, going to pick up his ball. “They’ll be back soon I reckon.”

“Ah, okay,” Lucky said, taking a seat next to Lily, who was unconsciously motioning with her hands while happily watching Dom - even now, she must be practicing her routine, Lucky surmised. He’d never met anyone so dedicated to anything before, and found himself envying her. 

Fresh from his victory, William jogged over to one of the seats and took a bite of his pizza slice. “Hey, Lucky - thanks for coming! I know this kind of thing might not be your speed, but Rugby Club isn’t just about the competition - we hang out as a team.”

“Yeah, thanks for inviting me! I’m… glad to be in the Rugby Club,” Lucky nodded, hoping he didn’t come off as insincere in his distractedness. Where’d they go?

Suddenly, footsteps trailed from behind - Eric was now standing beside him, looking down on him, his face chalk-white. “Lucky. Let’s go.”

Lucky adjusted his glasses, suddenly hyper-aware of the others, wondering if they could hear his whispering. “Huh? Go… where?”

“I don’t know. Let’s just - get out of here. Go back.”

Lucky found himself looking around at his teammates, searching for an answer they obviously couldn’t give, as William seemed to be fixated on Dom’s bowling, and Lily was still practicing her routine. Then his vision moved to the back, next to the concession -

Eli was staring at him, his eyes glassy and unfamiliar. Lucky felt a chill up his spine.

“Uh… yeah, we can- we can go.”

Lucky got up from his seat and walked over to William, briefly letting him know they were heading out, then walked over to the concession to pay. As he turned to leave, Eli blocked his path, standing still as a statue with his hood over his head, putting one hand on Lucky’s shoulder and looking into his eyes as he spoke -

“Why did you do it?” He gazed deep into Lucky’s eyes. “You knew the consequences, didn’t you? So why?”

“I - I’m sorry?” Lucky stammered, looking down instinctively. “I don’t know what you’re… talking about…”

Eli tilted his head slightly, pulling his hand away. “Surely you are not - ”

Their eyes met again,

and Lucky could feel a deep, deep pressure all around

like he was at the bottom of an endless ocean. 

“W - what are you - - “ Lucky began, now feeling quite unsettled. Eli’s face twisted with revulsion.

“You are ruined,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Beyond saving.”

Lucky felt a hand grab his own.

“Let’s go,” Eric said firmly, leading Lucky out of the venue and into the cool autumn night.

“What…was that?”

In the sickly yellow light of the bus stop’s post, Lucky stood next to Eric, waiting for their ride home as the headlights of cars passed by. The starless sky was fully dark by this time, but the city was always lit up, the night-time chats of people on the street constantly becoming audible, then fading away. 

Eric bit his lip, seemingly unable to get the words out. “It’s just… Eli. We’re really close, but when we were alone, he said some… really fucked up stuff to me. Things I’ve never heard from him. I don’t understand it.”

Lucky couldn’t focus on Eric’s words, drowned out as they were by Eli’s. He felt numb, keeping his gaze on the ground.

“Lucky, it was just some cryptic shit that didn’t make any sense, it’s not important,” Eric ran his right hand through his hair, holding tightly to the strands as he pulled it back.

Lucky kicked the pavement, thinking back to what Eli had said to him. “Does he… hate me?”

“No, I don’t think he-” Eric turned in his direction, and when he turned, Lucky locked eyes with him: for a moment he could feel the weight of unsaid thoughts that swirled deep. Ah, he thought. So he does . He just doesn’t want to say it.

“You can tell me, you know.”

Eric put his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. “He’s just…ugh. I think he doesn’t think you’re good for me, or something. But it’s not true. You know that, right?”

Lucky nodded. Even though he had asked to hear it, even with the added negation, it still stung coming from Eric’s lips. “Yeah.”

“…Lucky, I’ve known Eli for a long time, and… I’ve never heard him talk like this before. He’s always been really polite and sweet, but the way he spoke to me, it’s like he’s… possessed. It really worried me, you know? I just…”

“...You just?”

Eric looked directly at him, his brow tightly furrowed. “I think something really bad is happening, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

Lucky didn’t know, either. Even looking into Eric’s eyes, seeing his face so twisted with frustration and stress, he couldn’t imagine what Eli had said to him that would cause him to react this strongly. He didn’t imagine Eric was going to volunteer any more about what Eli had said, but it had to have been something terrible.

“Why did you do it?”

Eli had said that to him. Do what? He couldn’t even begin to imagine the “it” that he had supposedly “done”. Had he offended Eli in some way? Made a poor decision? Worse yet was that he didn’t feel that Eli had been lying. 

Which means that the oblivious one was him. 

The bus hauled itself next to the pavement, the tires screeching as it pulled in. Eric took Lucky’s hand.

“You are ruined.”

He breathed deeply.

“Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

“Hey, you’re late.”

Upon quietly opening and closing the door of his house and kicking his shoes off, his mom was already in the kitchen, making some tea. 

“Ah, sorry,” Lucky reflexively mumbled. It never mattered what it was - just apologize to get them off your back.

He glanced at the clock - 10 PM . Not really late by teenager standards, but prior to this Lucky had been consistently arriving at 4 PM on the dot, so late for him, he supposed. He hadn’t told his parents when he’d be back, not that they’d care. From the sight of his mother already turning around to make her tea, she’d probably stopped caring, too.

“You got something in the mail, you know. Letter with a… red seal.”

Lucky perked up. “A letter for me? Where is it?”

His mother poured the hot water into her mug. “Eh, I opened it up, and it looked like spam, so I threw it out.” 

“Oh. Okay.” Lucky tried to hide his irritation as he stepped past her into his room.

“Don’t go to bed too late!”

In the quiet darkness of his room, Lucky sat at his desk and looked out the window, watching cars pass on the highway.

He’d turned on the radio and was tapping his pen on his desk when the emotions of the day finally caught up with him - the frustrations he had suppressed, discomfort from his interactions with Eli, Eric’s doubts and worries now taking him over… he would never be able to sleep like this.

What was he supposed to do in a situation like this? He tried tuning into something else, anything else, just to distract him a bit, and only found the boring poppy dance-tunes jangling out of the radio. 

I need more than that.

He turned the channel to something more intense - a fast-paced jazz band streaming out of the speakers, the singer’s shouts ringing out less than a step from a gospel declaration.

It’s not enough.

He turned it to another station and heard a sinister, reverb-drenched chord ring out, then another, then another, until his thoughts were replaced by the music -

- and the singer’s words, coming out perfectly clear through the buzz and smoke of the sound, as if illuminated under a streetlight -

Open me up and take just one peek

The stars bleeding, revealing their sin

Only in dreams will you get what you seek

Come on in, come on in, come on in…

Lucky let the music take him away, hanging on to each word, until finally, the music died down and a charismatic voice came through the radio…

“Alright, that was ‘Gnykorr and Hadar’ by New Collins! Been getting a lot of requests from that one lately, next up we’ve got…”

But he wasn’t listening anymore. Gnykorr and Hadar. That was the name of the song Eli had said he would hear. 

This was important. Something was going to happen, something was already happening, he realized, and he thought about the day he’d just had, the ‘nonsense’ he’d heard from Eli, the talk he’d had with Eric, the letter he’d received - 

The letter he’d received.

Lucky jumped out of his seat and opened his door, running into the kitchen where his mother was still sipping her tea, vaguely hearing her worthless protest, putting on his shoes, opening the door…

In the black night he could barely see the dumpster, but as soon as he approached it, he realized the utter absurdity of what he was about to do.

Open me up and take just one peek.

For fuck’s sake.

He pushed open the hinge of the dumpster and closed his eyes, rummaging through it with one hand, trying not to think about what his hand was currently touching, wishing that it was still there somewhere, and that if it was there, he would find it quickly -

His hand clenched around paper, and he pulled it out to find… a crumpled, dirtied envelope. 

Lucky shut the dumpster and took the letter out of the envelope. In this darkness he couldn’t read what it said, so he shoved the mostly-clean paper in his pocket, re-opened the dumpster, threw the envelope in, and went back inside to immediately wash his hands, automatically apologize to his mom, then walk back into his room and shut the door, pulling the paper out and clutching it tightly.

Holy shit, Lucky thought breathlessly, finally coming back to himself at his desk, placing the letter down gently, flipping it over to reveal a distinctive red seal with an imprinted symbol.

Why did I do that? It’s probably… just spam, right?

He gripped it with one shaking hand 

and started to read.

To Mr. August Waters,

I hope this letter finds you well, “lucky boy.” Though wind of your fascinating exploits have not reached me in quite some time, I once found myself quite enamored with your ‘ability’ - perhaps you could call me a ‘fan’?

I am writing to you now to formally invite you to Oletus Manor, where I am hosting a variety of games with luxurious prizes. As I am aware money is not of much worth to you, your prize upon succeeding is uniquely negotiable. No other contestant is being offered such an option, nor have they ever. Whatever you may ask of me, I will make it yours.

Eagerly I await your response. Please do consider participating, and feel free to bring a friend along.

Yours,

Baron DeRoss

Chapter Text

He dreamed of a chair.

An antique chair, with a red cotton seat and fine engravings in its copper arms. Like they had at the casinos sometimes. Strings of pearls lined each of its legs.

The rest of the room was dark and empty, and so quiet that his heart seemed to beat with the density of a marching band, maddening and constant. 

And it was certainly a very nice chair, but he couldn’t bring himself to sit in it.

In the darkness, he could smell algae and seafoam

and something was whispered he couldn’t quite hear.

August slammed into the chair at full force, his back digging into the wood and metal frame. Unwelcome thoughts stabbed his mind and wracked him with panicking breaths. Three new, terrifying certainties became his world:

• This chair was the only way he could breathe.
• If he moved so much as an inch, he would drown.
• His head was just barely above water.

He gripped the arms of his seat tightly, gasping for shortened breaths that filled his ears and sent him into deeper panic.

Something was gripping the top of his hair and holding him to the back of the chair, his neck straining against the frame as his shaking hands held on for dear life. His lips were touching the surface of the ocean, dipping into it with each breath. 

He was going to drown. He was going to drown. He didn’t want to drown. He wished that he wouldn’t drown, with every primal desire to BREATHE NOW wracking his brain - 

And then,

With blessed relief,

He could breathe again, and the chair was just a chair.

The chilling wind outside gripped Lucky tight.

Standing by the large tree in front of Lutheria, he could feel the frosty breath of early winter stinging his cheeks and bearing down on every inch of exposed skin ( when did these pants get too short for him? ). He hadn’t dressed warmly enough, he now realized - a light jacket and scarf was never enough when the cold arrived.

It had been a week since they’d gone bowling. Lucky had sat with his thoughts in the lunchroom, the classroom, everywhere really. He made up his mind on a Tuesday.

“Hey, can we talk after school?” Eric had looked up at Lucky, who approached his seat at lunch. 

“Yeah, uh, sure,” Eric replied hesitantly, his face still questioning. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything’s fine,” Lucky nodded. “But we need to talk anyway. Just us.” He didn’t want to sit with the others, especially not Eli (who Eric now seemed to be getting along just fine with) so he had sat in his usual corner today.

Lucky’s glasses were starting to fog up - he wiped them off with his scarf, put them back on, and watched the stream of students noisily coming out of the front doors like bees charging out of a hive. Somewhere among them, Eric stepped out from the sea and locked eyes with Lucky - his gaze was serious as he approached.

“So.. what’s up?” He put his hands in his pockets, shifting around in the cold as he waited for Lucky’s response.

“Ah, I -” Lucky started to speak before realizing his mistake. “Shit, I actually left it at home, uh… are you doing anything right now? I promise it’s important, and it’s nothing bad.”

“Oh, that’s fine. Let’s go, then.” 

Eric reached out his hand, and Lucky took it.

The stores were lit up with Christmas decorations.

“It’s funny how fast the decorations go up, huh?” Eric turned to smile at Lucky as they walked down the street hand in hand, a passing group of laughing kids quickly crossing to step around them. His breath showed silver in the cloudy afternoon - Lucky smiled back.

“Yeah, it feels like Halloween was just yesterday…” And then, wanting to fill the silence - “Do you, uh, celebrate it? Christmas, I mean.”

Eric nodded. “It’s… actually the only thing our family celebrates, really. My mom puts up a tree, we get presents, go to church, the whole thing. My dad doesn't celebrate or anything, though. Then again, I’m usually at my mom’s for the holidays, so…”

“Ah, I see. Do you… like it that way? If that makes sense-”

“ - Oh, yeah, I get what you mean. And I guess it’s… alright? I don’t really think about it much. That’s just how it’s been for a really long time, so I can’t imagine it any other way, you know?”

Lucky nodded and held his hand a little tighter. “I think I do. Hey, look, there’s a cat!”

In one of the windows was a little calico cat licking its paw and staring outside intently. Eric smiled.

“Oh, I used to work there. His name’s Mr. Piddles.”

Lucky laughed and stopped to look at the cat who was now flopping over and pressing his paw to the window.  “What the heck kind of name is that…”

Eric shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t ask me, I didn’t name him.”

Lucky kneeled and pressed his hand against Mr. Piddles’s paw at the window, watching him flop over lazily. “Do you have any pets?”

“Nah, but I really want one. My mom is allergic, so I can’t own one, but I want a cat someday.”

“Got any… name ideas? Besides - - Mr. Piddles - -”  Lucky broke out laughing just saying it.

“I’d probably name him Clyde.” Eric’s voice softened with sincerity.

“Clyde. I like that.”

They continued on their way after Mr. Piddles moved away from the window. “Bye-bye,” Lucky waved, standing up and taking Eric’s hand again.

A flock of pigeons pecking at fallen food in the street scattered to the air as they passed. Lucky put his other hand to his scarf-wrapped neck, sighing at the warmth.

“Damn, it’s cold out… I can’t wait to get inside,” Eric yawned, scratching his head.

“Yeah, me too. Sorry, uh, my parents might be home, and they’re annoying, but they’ll probably just be out gambling right now…”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. You can introduce me whenever-”

“-Hey! Eric!”

“Haha, I’m only kidding…”

They weren’t home. Thank god for that - he really didn’t want to see either of them right now. The two of them kicked their shoes off, Lucky taking his coat off and hanging it up as Eric shivered in the kitchen.

“Man, it’s not much warmer in here, huh,” Eric said - he hadn’t brought a coat. Foolhardy as it was to be out in this weather in a t-shirt, Lucky didn’t feel the need to make a quip about it.

“Want me to make some tea?” Lucky moved over to the kitchen and opened the tea drawer.

“Sure. Wait, you have a drawer for…tea? Just tea?” (Lucky flipped through the tea.)

“Well, yeah. Do you… not have a tea drawer?” (He pulled out a chamomile as Eric came up behind him to look.)

“Nah, both my parents only drink coffee. I’ll take one, though.” (He pulled out one, seemingly at random, and went to sit down at the counter.)

Eric put his elbows on the counter and looked over at Lucky, who was still filling the teapot at the sink. “So… what’s up?”

“Hm?”

“I mean, like, what did you want to talk about today? You said earlier-”

“Oh! Yeah, that, I- let me go get it, I’ll be right back.” 

Lucky set the teapot to boil and walked over through the hallway, opening the door into his darkened room, not bothering to turn the light switch on. There it was, right where he left it on his desk - he scooped the mysterious letter and its envelope up in one hand. The world was cloudy and gray outside his window, and Lucky closed the door behind him when he stepped back out.

Eric was eating an apple when he got back, turning to him with a fat cheek and a pensive expression. “Oh, I took an apple, hope that’s okay,” he mumbled to Lucky, still chewing. Cute… 

“Yeah, no problem,” Lucky said, reaching over to take an apple for himself. “These ones are really good, my mom got them.”

“Mmm. What’s the letter?”

Lucky realized he probably wouldn’t want to talk and chew, so he put the apple back for later and took a seat next to him. “Here, you can… read for yourself, I guess.” He handed Eric the letter - Eric took it, taking another bite of his apple as he did so.

Eric’s eyes widened when he saw the distinctive red seal. After a moment, he gently opened it up and unfolded the letter inside.

He read silently, with only the sound of him chewing the apple and the teapot’s low hiss filling the room. Lucky looked over at him, trying to read his face, getting nothing - his eyes were dead focused, scanning on the words, his expression giving nothing away. He swallowed, then started to chuckle, handing it back to Lucky.

“Is this… a scam? This could be a scam, you know,” Eric looked at Lucky with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s not a scam, Eric,” Lucky replied firmly. “I’ve- I’ve received letters from Nigerian princes who were actually Nigerian princes - when I get stuff like this, I mean, it’s for real. Believe me.”

“You’re sure about this?” Eric looked over at him, the teapot’s hissing getting louder. “This sounds like it could be dangerous.”

“Well, yeah, but… I feel like I have to do this, you know? I feel like… if we stay here, something really, really bad is going to happen. Do you know what I mean…?” Lucky scratched at his palm, trying not to let it show that he was trembling. 

He felt something inside him fall and shatter like a priceless vase.

“Please…come with me, Eric -” His voice shook as he spoke. “I don’t want anything else here, I couldn’t care less - I know we can win, I’ll be your - your lucky charm, and - and we’ll be happy . I know I can’t… force you, and I really don’t want you to feel like you have to, I just -”

Eric had stood up, and was holding him, Lucky’s tears falling on his shoulder. The teapot was boiling - the brutal hissing sounded a million miles away.

“It’s okay, Lucky.” He shifted to look into Lucky’s watery eyes as he spoke, taking his hands as he did so.

“I don’t wanna be anywhere unless it’s with you. And I trust you, you know? I know you’re not gonna go leading me off a cliff.” His face lilted with that unserious truthfulness that Lucky loved so much. “So… I’ll go wherever you wanna go, okay? It can be just you and me.” 

“And Clyde,” Lucky sniffled, both of them laughing, the mood lightened. “Yes, and Clyde.” 

“Eric?”

“Yeah?”

“Why… do you stick around me?”

“Because I like you, dummy, why else?”

“N-no, I mean, like… why? I’m not… good at anything, I’m not- social, or smart, or funny, but you still… noticed me. You asked me questions that no one else would bother asking. Sorry, I know that’s… lame of me-”

“No, it’s not lame. Well, at first it was ‘cause you were cute, you know? But… you asked questions, too. You noticed me just as much as I noticed you. And… maybe I don’t know you that well, but whenever I see you, I just want to spend more time with you. I want to spend all the time with you.”

“All the time?” Lucky’s eyes refocused - he held Eric’s hands a little tighter.

“Yeah,” Eric whispered. “All the time.” Lucky took him back into a hug.

They stayed like that for a while, Eric hugging him while Lucky sat at the counter. When they finally got up, Lucky kissed him, Eric’s arms still wrapped around him. 

Lucky hadn’t kissed anyone before (and so was quite nervous) but with Eric it was so much easier than he ever thought it would be. He was warm, and tasted like apples, and his hands were sure and firm on Lucky’s sides. Ah, Lucky thought, how simple, then. How gentle.

The tea kettle clicked, and Lucky nervously pulled away. “O-okay, let me go get that,” he mumbled before Eric pulled him back for another. The second one was nicer than the first. Oh, shit, Lucky thought, his hands holding the hem of Eric’s rugby shirt. Do I… get to do this more often? Does this come with the benefits of having a boyfriend? That’s pretty rad…

“Okay, okay, let me get the tea,” Lucky pulled away again, laughing a little as he did so.

“Oh, yeah, can you pick a tea out for me? I just picked one out at random, I have no idea if… ‘Raspberry Ginseng Lemon Ginger’ is any good.”

“See, I knew you didn’t even look at the one you picked! That flavor’s like the worst one!”

“Well, excuse me for not being a tea connoisseur,” Eric mumbled, taking another bite of his apple.

“Here, I’ll pick one out for you. How does… Sleepytime sound?”

“Laaaame. I’ve changed my mind, I’m going with Raspberry Ginseng Lemon Ginger.”

“Oh my god, Eric, you’re gonna hate it…”

“No I’m not, you’re just a hater…”

“You’re gonna take two sips and put it back…”

“Okay, well, let me try it and then we’ll see…”

“It’s a waste of good tea……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………