Chapter Text
As they’re both holding unopened letters in their hands with shaky fingers, Rhys looks back on the years leading up to this moment.
He can only assume Vaughn is doing the same thing, remembering different things but sometimes the same things, his favorite snapshots of memories of their friendship suddenly remembered in full clarity all over again.
It feels like he’s being a little dramatic about the whole thing, but it doesn’t matter. He’s allowed to be dramatic, and he’s allowed to be excited. And hopeful. And scared. He’s allowed to be all of those things.
He remembers the first summer he ever spent away from Vaughn, when his parents had tossed him to his grandparents’ and he’d lived the whole three-ish months in complete and utter boredom, thinking about coming home, working his ass off at the grocery store they’d had for, like, three decades. He hadn’t noticed how much he’d grown in that span of time until the day he got back, a week before school started up again. He towered over Vaughn – puberty was both a blessing and a curse for him – and Vaughn hadn’t stopped staring at him for, like, a week.
He’s not sure why that’s such a fond memory for him – Vaughn just sneaking glances at him every once in a while, making comments about how ridiculously tall he’d gotten – it’s just a good memory – he’d say something about the butterflies in his stomach every time Vaughn brought it up, but… nah, he wouldn’t.
And then there are all the times they sat on the edge of the sidewalk eating ice cream from that shop down the street, complaining about some kid in class they hated or talking about their day – the first week Vaughn had gotten his permit and they’d spent an hour at some abandoned road doing doughnuts in his dad’s beat up old car, screeching to a halt every once in a while so they could laugh and lean on each other and be stupid.
All the movies they watched in the crappy theater downtown, movies they didn’t care about or movies only one of them cared about – it didn’t matter, they always enjoyed themselves, shoving popcorn into their mouths and laughing at the bad acting or finding entertainment in the fact that only one of them was emotionally invested in the first place, or the extremely rare occasion where both of them were just as emotionally invested and didn’t stop talking about it for weeks and sometimes even months.
He’s fond of memories that should be embarrassing for him, of dressing up in ridiculous outfits and making swords out of cardboard and pretending to kill each other in Vaughn’s backyard, all the role-playing and games they played online when they couldn’t hang out in person, the board games and getting their asses handed to them at every video game tournament they went into and everything else.
And there are the things he knows he shouldn’t think about, like that time they’d gotten some cheap beer from a friend and sat on top of Rhys’ house in the middle of the night, watching the stars and almost touching hands.
Anyway.
Rhys is scared that he’ll never have any of that again if they both aren’t accepted. They’ll go their separate ways because they have to, and by the time they can meet up again everything will have changed and they’ll be too different, they’ll have too much to catch up on, it won’t work.
They open the letters at the same time, their movements weirdly in step with each other despite the fact that Rhys is working it open with one hand. Vaughn’s probably slowing down a little on purpose, but Rhys ignores that. They’ve always been synced up pretty well and this time is no different, they’re both holding back the excitement and fear that’s twisted in their guts and facing each other, holding their breath like this is the most important moment of their lives, and it is.
There’s a pause where nothing happens, where they’re just reading the words on the letters and processing them in their heads.
Vaughn reacts first, manages to get a tiny, relieved puff of air out before Rhys is joining him – not with a sigh of relief but with a disbelieving laugh – and they’re exchanging letters and reading the ‘Congratulations!’ on both of them in their heads like it’s the only word that matters in the world.
“It says it, right? That I got in?” Rhys says nervously, shifting to look over Vaughn’s shoulder as Vaughn checks over it.
“Yeah! Yeah, you got in, man, we both did,” Vaughn replies, just as excited as Rhys feels.
He can’t help himself, just bends down and wraps his arm around Vaughn’s waist and hugs him as hard as he can, one of their acceptance letters discarded on the ground and the other getting crushed in Vaughn’s hand as Vaughn holds onto him.
When Rhys pulls away, he snorts. “How the hell did I get in? Did you bribe them or something?”
“What? No – Rhys, you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.”
“Oh, please. Like I would’ve made it this far if you hadn’t refused to talk to me until I finished my homework.”
“I like to think I’m a good motivator, thank you very much.”
Rhys bends down to pick up Vaughn’s acceptance letter, trying to ease the creases out with his thumb. It doesn’t really work, but it’s the thought that counts and they swap letters when he’s done as much as he can.
“I never said you weren’t, I have to agree with you there. Thanks, man.”
“For what?”
“You know, pushing me. If you hadn’t we wouldn’t be here. Going off to college... together, and stuff.” He runs his hand through his hair on habit, grinning down at Vaughn, who’s beaming right back.
“Don’t thank me, bro. You did most of it yourself anyway. And hey! Now you’re stuck with me for even longer, that’s gotta be a plus, right?”
“And here I was, praying for freedom.”
Vaughn punches his arm lightly and then folds up his letter, tucking it into his pocket so he wouldn’t forget it when he left Rhys’ house.
It feels like the best day of Rhys' life.
Rhys is afraid he’s dreaming. That there’s no way they’d both gotten in to the college they’d been crossing their fingers for, there’s no way they’re spending the next huge part of their lives together the way they’d been doing it since elementary school.
He’s not, though, and that keeps the smile on his face.