Chapter Text
“I swear you’re putting magic into these or something, man.”
“Nope,” Exer says, gently setting another latte down in front of David. “One-hundred percent pure skill. And a crapload of hounding from Marco.”
“Uh-huh. Sure,” David responds skeptically, slowly picking up the purple mug. He’s been coming to Cup O’ Cat as often as he possibly can, even though it occasionally meant ditching football practice early to make it before Exer’s shift ends or staying until after sundown when he was closing. It was warm, cozy, and a good place to work on homework, even if he ended up getting distracted more often than not by a certain someone.
“I promise I’m not bewitching all of our customers, Day.” Exer chuckles, leaning back against the table.
David rolls his eyes, “Well, I’ve never liked coffee before.”
“Mmm, I know. I vividly recall the first time you tried it after pulling an all-nighter at my place. I wish I’d gotten a picture of the face you made.”
“I stand by that face. It’s disgusting.” He peers into the mug, expecting to see the standard flower design that's poured into every latte. Instead, though, there’s a big heart, right in the center of the light coffee. David feels his face go warm. “Exer!”
Exer looks at him and smiles innocently, “What’s up, Day?”
David just makes an embarrassed sound, setting the latte down in front of him and burying his face in his hands. Exer laughs, and David feels him lean down to whisper against his ear, “I just wanted to give my boyfriend a little extra love.”
David shoves him away roughly, face burning. Exer’s still snickering, but David can see the red dusting his cheeks. “You’re such a dork.”
“I know.” Exer replies, spinning away from the table on his roller skates. “I gotta get back to work now or Dylan and Marco’ll grill me. I’ll see you in thirty, okay?”
“Yeah,” David affirms, watching the other glide smoothly between customer-filled tables and pick up dirty dishes, making easy conversation with each of them as he passes. Ever since their night at the lake Exer has seemed happier, lighter almost, like a massive burden has fallen off his shoulders. He seems so far from the scared, sad boy David had held in the forest that he almost can’t see them as the same person, but then he sees the shaking of Exer’s hands as he picks up another plate, the forced casualty of his grins, and he can tell that they’re nowhere near out of the woods yet. Even so, they’re making progress, slowly but surely, and that’s enough.
Also, they’re dating now, which is something David has barely even begun to comprehend. Exer will do things like this, will put hearts in his coffee or quietly slip a hand into his when nobody’s looking, and it lights his soul on fire. He’s so elated, and when Exer looks at him with those soft amber eyes, when Exer calls him his boyfriend, when Exer smiles and it’s all for him , David can’t quite believe it’s real. It’s so beautiful, it’s everything he’s ever wanted, and yet…
And yet David’s afraid .
He sighs, putting the mug to his lips and staring down at the discarded calculus homework in front of him. He’s scared, and he knows it. He knows Exer can see it too, every time David pulls away, snatches his hand back, keeps that little bit of distance between them any time they’re in public. He sees the hurt flicker through his eyes every single time, the brief flash of dejection followed by the poorly drawn smile, but David can’t help it. They live in the 80s after all, and if someone saw them that little bit too close or his dad found out, his whole life would be screwed.
But that doesn’t matter right now , David tells himself harshly, setting the half-empty mug down and shoving away his thoughts, right now, you’re doing calculus. He pulls his homework closer, taking a deep, steadying breath before diving right into his differentiation worksheet.
Time passes, and before David knows it Exer’s back at his table, this time sans apron. He’s got his messenger bag slung over his shoulder, a to-go cup of coffee clutched in his hand, and a small smile on his face as he waits patiently for David to finish. David scrambles to shove his things into his backpack, having gotten so lost in confusion over his math homework that he hadn’t even noticed the cafe emptying. Now he and Exer, as well as Exer’s coworkers, are the only people left.
“Shoot, man, I’m so sorry. Let me just–” David slings his backpack over his shoulders and glances back to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. After a quick sweep he turns back to Exer, smiling brightly, “Okay, there we go. I’m all set!”
“Awesome. Let’s go.” Exer reaches down to take his hand and David hesitates, glancing up to the front where one of the waitresses– Bailey, he thinks is what Exer said her name was– is wiping down the counter. Exer notices and lets out a small sigh, adjusting the strap of his bag awkwardly, “They know.”
“They what? ” David whisper-yells, panic suddenly flooding his veins, “You told them?”
“No, they figured it out on their own after you came in and I literally jumped over a counter to see you.” Exer gives him a reassuring grin, “They also got me to admit I think you had a cute smile, and haven’t let me live it down since. They’re one of the main reasons I even realized I liked you at all, so yeah. They know.”
“Oh,” David responds eloquently, fear warring with relief in his chest, “So do they know we’re together, or just that you…?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t told them, but I’m sure they’ve figured it out.” Exer glances at the counter, where Bailey has paused in her wiping to give them a not-very-subtle thumbs up and Marco has suddenly appeared in the kitchen doorway to make a mock kissy-face at them. Exer shakes his head, laughing slightly, “Oh yeah, they’ve definitely figured us out.”
“Oh,” David says again, not entirely sure how to feel about that. He can still feel his heart trying to choke him.
“They won’t tell anyone, I promise. They’re good people.”
David exhales slowly, forcing his heart back into his chest where it belongs. If Exer says they’re good people, then he’s just gonna have to trust him. Besides, if the way Bailey is still making gestures of support from the front counter is any indication, he’s telling the truth. He doesn’t respond, instead slipping his hand into Exer’s and interlocking their fingers. Exer smiles, and it’s so big and so bright that all of the fear David had felt before melts away and is instantly replaced with an overwhelming feeling of right. He smiles back, face pink, and Exer guides him to the door using their attached hands.
David waves to Bailey, Marco, and the cashier dude who he thinks is named Dylan with his free hand, and then Exer tugs him out into the chilly late November air. David shivers slightly, the change from the warm, coffee-scented cafe and into the brisk wind throwing him off. Exer squeezes his hand gently, “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit cold out here.” David squeezes his hand in return, stuffing the other in the pocket of his jeans. There’s usually nobody out on the street when Exer gets off work, so he lets himself relax into the physical contact, stroking Exer's hand with his thumb. Exer used to ride his bike to and from work, but now that David walked home with him nearly every day, there had been a substantial decrease in bike-riding. When he’d brought this up to Exer, the other had simply said that if they walked, he got to spend more time with David, and it wasn’t that far anyway.
He’d also said David was too heavy to carry home from work every day, which, rude.
“It’s almost December, huh?” Exer muses, breaking David’s train of thought and taking a sip of the coffee he'd brought with him. It's probably one of the new pumpkin spice lattes they'd recently started selling at the café. They've become one of Exer's favorites, but David still prefers the original, especially because it reminds him of the night they started talking again, when Exer had told him that he needed him, that David was his other half, even though it had been meant platonically at the time.
Exer continues, "Have you started thinking about Christmas gifts yet?"
"Thanksgiving break hasn't even happened yet, slow down." David looks down at his shoes, watching the lines of the concrete pass below his sneakers. "But yeah, I've got a few things in mind."
"Anything for me?" Exer asks, nudging his side playfully.
"And why would I tell you, dumbass?" David shoots back, rolling his eyes, "That defeats the whole purpose."
"Well, I'm getting something for you, 'cause I'm a good boyfriend."
"We've been giving each other Christmas gifts since we were eight, I'd hope you were planning on getting me something ."
"My dad would probably give me an eight hour long lecture on the importance of two-way friendship if I didn't." Exer says, laughing softly to himself, "I think if we ever get into another fight he might just march me over to your place and demand we make up."
"Oh, really?" David asks, although he wouldn't really be all that surprised. He can totally see Mr. Campbell sitting them down and treating it like couple's therapy, even if he doesn’t know they’re together.
"Yeah, after seeing how much of a wreck I was last time we stopped talking I don't think he'll let it happen again." Exer takes another sip of his coffee, “I don’t think I will, either. Those few weeks were some of the worst in my entire life.”
“Mine too,” he mumbles, squeezing Exer’s hand again. “I’m sorry I put you through that. It was pretty childish of me, huh?”
Exer shakes his head, tightening his grip on David’s hand in return, “No. You needed space, and I did too. I’m just glad I didn’t lose you.”
David nods tightly, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He’s glad, too, beyond thankful for Ron’s meddling ways and Pamela’s logical reasoning. He’s so, so happy he decided to chase after Exer, not only after he revealed his magic but also on that Friday night the week prior, even though it had resulted in some extremely awkward conversations the morning after. Walking down the sidewalk, hand-in-hand with Exer Campbell under the streetlamps and watching their reflection move in the windows they pass– it’s something David had barely let himself dream about before, and now that he’s here, living without it seems almost impossible.
They walk in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying each other’s company. At some point Exer finishes his coffee and tosses it into a trash can as they pass, his now free hand stuffed into the pocket of his jacket. They’re almost at Exer’s house, just a few streets away from having to part ways. David can already feel himself missing him, even though he’s right there and they see each other every day. He’s tempted to ask if he can stay the night, to beg Mr. Campbell to let him crash on the couch or sleep on the floor as long as it means he can stay close to Exer. As long as it means he doesn’t have to go home.
Exer glances up at him, and he must sense something off in David's expression because he pulls him closer using their joined hands and drapes a loose arm around his waist, leaning his head against David’s shoulder as they walk the last few blocks to his front door. Usually he would shove Exer away– far too much physical contact in a public space, what if someone suspects something – but this time he lets it slide, wrapping his arm around Exer’s shoulders in return and letting his head drop gently onto his boyfriend’s.
They both consciously slow down their pace, dragging their feet as much as they possibly can to delay the inevitable, but even so they end up in Exer’s driveway far sooner than either of them are really ready to let go. They pull apart at the doorway, and David immediately misses the warmth of Exer against his side as the cold air bites into him. They stand there for a few seconds, awkwardly, neither really wanting to be the person that walks away.
Exer brings up an arm, rubbing at the back of his neck uncomfortably, “Well, uh, this is me.”
“It is, yeah.” David replies, glancing at the door and silently praying that it doesn’t open. He’s not ready to leave just yet, to drag himself back to his house and feel the way his father’s eyes narrow in disapproval as he opens the door and explains where he’s been.
Exer sighs, dropping his hand and instead grabbing both of David’s hands in his own, “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to go.”
David smiles sadly at him, “I don’t either. But I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“I know, but tomorrow’s so far away, Day! How will I survive until then?" Exer exclaims dramatically, releasing one of David's hands to drape his own across his forehead like a damsel in distress. For someone who doesn't really like musicals, he's such a drama queen sometimes, even though David knows it’s mostly to draw a laugh out of him.
It works, like it always does. David giggles, shaking his head, "Oh no. You’ll have to manage without my handsome face for a whole twelve hours, how horrible."
"You're so mean to me." Exer takes a quick glance around, and David assumes that the coast is clear because the next second there are arms around his waist and lips centimeters from his own. David can feel Exer's words against his mouth as he whispers, "Take me out tomorrow."
David blinks, face immediately reddening both at the proximity of his boyfriend's face to his and the words themselves. He cautiously settles his arms over Exer's shoulders, whispering back, "Like, on a date?"
"No, I want you to kill me." Exer rolls his eyes, "Yes on a date, David. You've still gotta top my super rad stargazing slash firework show one."
"Oh come on, that barely counts as a date and you know it."
"That's not what you said last Friday." Exer grins, still so close that David can feel his breath hot against his face. "Marco said I can take off early tomorrow, so I'll be done at the café around five."
"Okay, then uh, I guess I'll pick you up around six thirty? From your house?"
"Great! It's a date." Exer's still smiling ear-to-ear as he pulls David the tiniest bit forwards so that they're completely flush, chest to chest on Exer's doorstep.
"It's a date." David repeats quietly, butterflies swarming around his chest as Exer glances around one last time before finally closing the gap completely, pressing his warm, pumpkin-spice flavored lips against David's.
It's still so surprising, so new that David freezes for a moment before reciprocating, burying a hand in Exer's hair in an effort to pull him even closer. Getting to hold him like this, to feel the way Exer softens under his fingertips and how, if he puts a hand against his neck, he can feel the rapid thrumming of his pulse is something he never thought he'd have the chance to experience, so now that he’s here, David savors it for as long as he can.
After what feels like mere moments, Exer pulls away. He reaches up to tuck a piece of hair back behind David's ear and cups his face gently, both of them simply looking at each other under the porchlight until Exer sighs and takes a step back. "I do actually have to go now, as much as I really want to just stand here and look at you forever."
"Okay, yeah, go. Your dad's probably worried, and mine is going to murder me if I'm not back soon." David releases Exer completely, taking a step back.
Exer nods and steps back as well, a hand on the doorknob. "Be safe, Day. I'll see you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow," he affirms, but before he can walk away Exer grabs him by the collar and lunges forward, planting one last quick kiss on his lips.
"I love you," Exer whispers, hand still fisted in David's shirt.
"I love you too," David answers, awestruck, and then Exer gives him one final adoring look and disappears into the house, leaving him red-faced and frozen on the porch steps.
After a few minutes, he manages to tear his gaze away from the closed door, although it requires a monumental amount of effort not to chase Exer into the house and kiss him again. He shakes his head, trying to clear it and only succeeding in ruining his hair. He strolls slowly down the driveway, adjusting his wrinkled collar and smacking his warm cheeks once, willing his face to go back to its normal tone instead of the bright red tomato color his boyfriend always turns him into. He takes one final longing glance at Exer’s house before heaving a deep sigh and sprinting off towards his own.
Now that there’s no warm body beside him and no soft hand in his, the cold is biting, ripping through David’s thin jeans and stabbing through his turtleneck. His eyes sting and he squints against the wind, anxiety bubbling up in his veins. This part is always the worst, the guessing game as he walks through his front door– will William notice that he’s spent the last several hours being romantically involved with a man, or will he only glare at him disapprovingly and lecture him on staying out instead of training?
Ever since David figured out he was into guys, he's been walking on eggshells, constantly afraid of being found out, constantly prepared to be disowned on the spot. He’s got a duffel bag under his bed just in case, and he’s sure his mom would let him stay with her and Brenda, if the need ever arose. It’s a horrible worst case scenario, sure, but he’s seen the news. He’s heard his dad talk about ‘the gays’ and how they’re all destined for eternal damnation for their disgusting choices. He’s sat across the dinner table as his dad casually sliced into a steak and told him that he’d better not turn out like that, that no son of his was going to wind up a fag.
So yeah. He’s ready.
Even so, walking up his own porch steps, slightly winded from the run, makes his hands tremble and his stomach hollow. The warmth of Exer and the cafe seem so far away under his flickering porchlight, and he watches a moth flutter around it for a couple seconds as he catches his breath. It’s kind of stupid, he thinks, a little creature searching for heat it’ll never get, warmth it can never receive from a cold house like this.
He can hear the television behind the door, the barely cheerful monotone of sports announcers and the somewhat muffled shouts of a crowd. His dad’s in the living room, then– no chance of getting to the safety of his room unnoticed. He gives himself another few seconds to stall, to come up with as many excuses as he possibly can for where he’s been and why, and then he’s digging his key out of his backpack and thrusting it into the lock, turning it as slowly as possible, wishing desperately that he was still staying with his mom.
He breathes one last shaky breath, and then the door is open and there’s nowhere for him to run.
Sure enough, his father is sitting on the couch, the T.V on and up far too loud. He’s got his feet up on the coffee table and a beer cracked open, held loosely enough that David’s almost worried it’ll slip. His stepmother, Linda, is in the kitchen somewhere– he can very faintly hear the sink running and the clinking of silverware, a clear sign that he missed dinner. He groans inwardly, mentally preparing for yet another night of sneaking down when his parents are asleep and eating cold leftovers as he shuts the front door behind him.
“I’m home,” he calls over the television.
His dad only grunts in response, eyes glued to the screen as the players sprint across the field. It’s probably the best he can hope for, far better than the instant disownment he was half expecting, so he breathes a slight sigh of relief and makes his way up the stairs as quietly as possible. Linda will probably check in with him after she’s done with dishes, but until then he’s got a little bit of time to relax.
When he finally gets to his room he immediately shuts the door, tossing his backpack haphazardly into the corner and throwing himself onto the bed. He stays there for a minute, listening for the sound of footsteps on the stairwell, but when he hears nothing but the T.V and the occasional muffled speech he grabs a pillow, shoves his face into it, and squeals.
Holy sugar.
Holy fucking sugar.
He has a date. With Exer Campbell, his incredibly hot boyfriend slash best friend of ten years, tomorrow .
And he has no clue where he’s taking him.
He’s supposed to be planning it, but apparently being a lady’s man for the past three years has not paid off in the slightest because he suddenly has no clue how dates work. There should be ideas in his head, even just the slightest hint of a plan, but all that’s there is a constant barrage of I have a date tomorrow and no helpful things whatsoever.
He curls onto his side, burying his face farther into his pillowcase. It has to be good. It has to be the best damn date in the history of dating, so good that it makes Exer want to marry him on the spot, even though it’s not technically legal yet. It’s their first date , no matter how much Exer likes to claim their little thing in the forest counts.
It was really nice, though, he reflects, pulling the pillow to his chest so he can actually breathe, too bad I can’t make magical fireworks.
He lays there for a little while longer, reminiscing over late-night walks and the way Exer looked under the stars. He’s so stupidly, unfairly handsome, with his fluffy brown hair and his perfectly amber eyes. David’s not ugly in the slightest– he honestly really likes how he looks– but he isn’t ethereally beautiful like Exer, and he’s got no idea how he managed to pull a best friend, let alone a boyfriend, who looks as good as he does.
He rolls over, clumsily slapping a hand down on the radio he keeps on his nightstand. He manages to blindly find the dial, and he tunes it to the popular hits station in the hopes that some music might trigger his romantic side. God, what happened to him? He used to be pulling girls left and right, coming up with fantastic dates right off the bat, and now he can’t even figure something out for the guy he’s known for practically his entire life.
It’s because he’s different , something whispers in the back of his mind, it’s because you really, really love him.
I do, David thinks back, I really, really do.
David forces himself upright as a Bowie song comes on, tossing his thoroughly squeezed pillow back towards the headboard. If he can’t figure out what to do, he can at least figure out what to wear, right?
…right?
Wrong.
Twenty minutes later, Linda finds him rummaging through his closet, various articles of clothing strewn across every available surface. There’s a pile of button-ups on the floor, and she watches with barely concealed amusement as he mutters “Too dressy” and tosses another into the pile. She walks to the nightstand, lowering the volume on the radio before turning back to him.
“Are you alright, David?”
David practically jumps out of his skin, nearly taking his closet door off its hinges as he springs backwards. He blinks a couple times, his face rapidly coloring, “Oh, hello, Linda. Yeah, I’m fine, just,” he clears his throat, gesturing around, “y’know?”
“Uh,” she laughs gently, “no, not really.”
“Oh.” David puts his hands in his pockets uncomfortably, “Did you need something, or..?”
“No, I just wanted to check up on you because William’s, well, William.” She carefully moves a pile of shirts to the side and settles herself on the edge of the bed. “I knocked and you didn’t answer, so I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Sorry. I was distracted.”
“I can see that. What are you doing?”
“I’m–” David pauses, swallowing hard. He has to consider his response carefully. He knows his dad’s opinion on gay people, but Linda’s never spoken on the matter. Whenever William goes off on a tangent about it, she either stays silent or changes the topic, and he can’t rely on her to not relay things back to William, so he goes for a half-truth. “I have a date.”
“Oh, wonderful! Look at you!” Linda smiles encouragingly, “Who’s the lucky lady?”
“Her name is Elizabeth,” he says, the lie rolling off his tongue easily– he had dated a girl named Elizabeth before, for a few weeks. She was cute, yeah, but nowhere near Exer’s level, and David’s heart had apparently belonged to him for a very, very long time. “She asked me out today. I’m picking her up at six thirty tomorrow, but I don’t know what to wear, so…”
“I see.” Linda laughs again, picking up one of the discarded turtlenecks by her feet and setting it down beside her. “You must really like her, to be fretting so much.”
David smiles softly, his cheeks going a light shade of pink, “I do, yeah. She’s… she’s really great.”
“Aw, David, honey, that’s so sweet." She claps her hands together and stands, smoothing out the ruffles in her dress before putting her hands on her hips. "Why don't I help you narrow it down, and then you can ask your sister to come help you get ready tomorrow?"
"Oh, uh," he flounders for a second, "I dunno."
"Come on sweetheart, she's obviously special to you. I'm sure Brenda will be happy to help, and I am too. We know what the ladies like, after all,” she says with a playful wink.
David bites the inside of his cheek, considering. Neither his stepmother nor his sister know he's actually going on a date with a guy, let alone Exer Campbell. Even though he's decidedly not a girl, nice is nice, and Brenda knows what she's doing. It's not like they'll actually see Exer, so he can probably just keep the lie going and get their help in the meantime. Worst case scenario, he lets it slip and he's screwed. Best case scenario, they make him look hotter than Brad Pitt and Exer's completely swept off his feet, and then somehow they legalize gay marriage through their sheer combined sexiness and ride off into the sunset together.
That second one is pretty unlikely but hey, a guy can dream.
So, David nods. “Sure, Linda, I’d love some help.”
His stepmother seems delighted, a bright smile taking over her face. She’s been trying really hard to be a bigger part of his and Brenda’s life, and he kind of appreciates it, especially because his dad kind of sucks when it comes to, well, being a dad. It’s still a little weird, but David’s not going to turn her down when she’s trying her best. It’d be mean.
“Okay, let’s see what you’ve got then.” She picks up the shirt off the top of a pile, inspecting it carefully as she asks, “Where are you taking her?”
“Oh, um, about that,” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “I have no idea.”
“What? Oh, David, honey,” she drops the shirt once more, tossing it into David’s ‘no’ pile and looking at him strangely, “how are you going to dress for the occasion if you don’t know what the occasion is?”
He groans, burying his face in his hands, “I don’t know. I’ve never cared this much about a date before. I usually just show up in whatever and she tells me where to go, or I take her somewhere simple, and that’s all there is to it.
Linda smiles sympathetically, and his face warms beneath his fingertips. When did he become so hopeless, so pathetic? He knows Exer inside and out, but the whole concept of taking him on a date is ruining David completely.
There’s movement somewhere in the corner of his vision, and then Linda is standing beside him, peering into his closet and sifting through hangers. He drops his hands as she pulls out yet another oddly patterned button up, considers it, and then drops it into the ‘no’ pile as well. “Well, if you’d like, we can call your sister now and we can all come up with ideas together, but knowing you I’m sure you’d find a way to show her a good time no matter where you are.”
David smiles softly, touched by the compliment. He hadn’t thought about it like that, but it rang true– he did have a knack for making boring places more interesting, which is why he’d gotten away with just bringing girls out to eat or to the record store for so long. Plus, Exer’s idea of a good date was apparently sitting on the hard forest floor at ungodly hours of the night, so he probably couldn’t do much worse than that. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” She places a hand on his shoulder gently for a moment, and David is suddenly extremely grateful his dad had managed to marry such an amazing woman. His mom was still undeniably the best, but compared to how William could be sometimes, Linda was absolutely fantastic as a parental figure.
She goes back to perusing his closet, scrutinizing every piece of clothing as she pushes hangers aside with deft fingers. “Since this is a first date, it’ll probably be more casual, right?”
“Yeah,” David agrees, peering over her shoulder, “I wasn’t planning on doing anything too fancy. You guys don’t pay me that big of an allowance, and there’s barely any fancy stuff in this town anyways.”
Linda laughs lightly, “No, I suppose not.” She pauses on one of David’s many striped turtlenecks for a second and then shoves it aside. “So, casual but nicer than usual, warm, not too flashy…”
“I think that alone eliminates half of my options,” David quips as Linda pushes past yet another button-up.
“Where you find all of these patterns is beyond me,” she jokes back, and then stops, considering a shirt for far longer than she had any of the others. She pulls it out of the closet and shows it to David, a grin bright on her face, “I think I found the one.”
It’s a relatively simple knitted crew neck sweater with a thick black stripe on the collar, at the ends of the sleeves, and around the bottom. The rest is thinly striped in black, white, gray, and several shades of blue that run horizontally across. It’s simple and fairly casual, but still nicer than what he’d usually wear, and warm to boot. He takes it from her gently, running his fingers across the soft material with a wide smile. “This is perfect. Thank you so much, Linda.”
She takes a step back, “Hold it up for me.”
He does, taking it off the hanger and holding it over his chest so she can see what it’ll look like when he actually wears it. She nods in approval, “It is perfect. I think you’ll look very handsome, and I’m sure Elizabeth will think so too.”
“I hope so.” David gently folds the sweater and sets it on top of his dresser before opening his pants drawer and fishing around for a nice pair of jeans. He finds a decent pair, with no tears or rips so he can keep out the chill, and sets them on top of the sweater. He turns back to Linda to thank her again, only to finally realize just how much of a mess he’s made. “Oh, uh, I’ll clean up.”
He leans down to scoop up the ‘no’ pile, but Linda holds out a hand. “Nonsense, David. I can pick this up. Why don’t you go call your sister, see if she can help you come up with something to do tomorrow?”
“Oh, uh, okay. It’s late, though, shouldn’t I wait until tomorrow?” He asks, straightening back up awkwardly. “Besides, I think I have something figured out.”
“Oh, you do?”
No, he doesn’t, at least nothing concrete, but he really doesn’t want to call Brenda this late at night, and he doesn’t want to risk his dad overhearing him talking with her on the phone. Besides, it’s like Linda said– David could take Exer to a landfill and they’d probably find a way to make it worthwhile.
So, he nods, “Yup.”
Linda raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, but she doesn’t press him any farther. “All right. Are you still going to ask her over tomorrow, or do you think you’re ready?”
David considers it for a moment. While Brenda would, without a doubt, come over and help him get ready, he isn’t sure he wants to make her stay here with their dad. Besides, he hasn’t told her about the date, and he doesn’t have a big enough lie prepared to answer all of her questions. Lying to Linda is one thing, but Brenda actually knows all of the girls he hangs out with, and she’ll catch him in it far sooner than he’s ready for, so it’s probably best not to tip her off just yet. “I think I’m good.”
“If you’re sure.” She moves to the bed, quickly re-hanging the clothes that were tossed there. “How were you planning on getting wherever you’re going?”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought about that. Walking, probably?”
“David!” Linda laughs in astonishment, “You can’t make her walk! What if she decides to wear nice shoes? I’ll talk to your father and see if you can take the car. Does that sound good, sweetheart?"
David inwardly cringes at the thought of having to ask his dad for anything, let alone to borrow the car for a date with his boyfriend, but it would be more convenient than walking. Besides, it's a lot more suave of him to drive up to Exer's than to walk up the driveway, especially considering it's usually Exer having to drive him places and they walk all the time. So, he shoots Linda a smile, "Yeah, that would be awesome."
"Wonderful. As soon as I'm done here, I'll ask him." She carefully hangs another shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles with her hand and then shifting it to the side to make room. “I’ll also see about getting you a little more money to spend, just in case you need more than what’s in your wallet.”
"Okay. Thanks." David watches for a moment, not entirely sure what to do with himself. Linda's nearly done, surprisingly quick at sorting out his mess. Just standing around staring is awkward, but he doesn't really want to go downstairs where his dad is either, so he decides to sit down on his bed and wait, handing shirts to Linda when she holds out a hand.
They finish fast, and Linda closes his closet door before giving him a quick smile and vanishing into the hall. He collapses back, spreading his arms wide and staring up at his ceiling fan. He wishes that Exer were here, face buried in the crook of his neck, an arm draped over David's chest. David would hold him, would rake fingers through fluffy hair and whisper gentle words into the silence, just like he had after they'd gone to the lake.
That past Friday, that wonderful, miraculous Friday, David had held Exer tightly against him and watched the sun rise through the window. Exer had fallen asleep almost immediately, tucked soundly against David's side and limbs draped haphazardly on top of him, but David had laid awake for a while. He'd seen the breaking of dawn, watched as the sky began to lighten and the people woke up. He'd watched cars drive past, listened to the muffled birdsong and the sound of Exer's gentle snores.
At some point, there had been a quiet creaking as the bedroom door mysteriously opened. David had almost freaked out when there was nobody behind the door, but then he remembered that Exer had a magical cat who apparently had no respect for privacy or physical barriers. Lucy had joined them, hopping up onto the bed and looking at David curiously. She had glanced at Exer, and then back at him, and he had felt weirdly like he was being appraised. He'd smiled at her, hoping to gain her approval, which was weird because Lucy-Furr was a cat and not an actual person, and David had met her several times before and she’d never really had a problem with him. Even so, he was glad when she settled herself against his other non-occupied side, making biscuits in the blanket before laying down and purring herself to sleep. He had gently encircled her with his other arm, resigning himself to his function as a warm pillow until one of the two creatures using him as one decided to move.
He'd stayed like that for several hours, watching as the sky turned from pink to orange to blue, comfortable but unable to fall asleep. Every once in a while he would lean down to press his face into Exer's hair, or he would shift his hand to stroke Lucy's fur. So much had happened that night. He almost felt like if he did fall asleep, it would all be gone when he woke up, and he wasn't ready for it to be over just yet.
Somewhere around eight, according to Exer's bedside clock, Mr. Campbell had knocked softly on the ajar door. David's heart had jumped to his throat, trying rapidly to come up with excuses for why he was currently in Exer's bed with the guy half on top of him, but couldn't come up with anything that made sense before the door had opened fully.
Luckily, Mr. Campbell had only raised an eyebrow and given him a we're going to talk about this later look, which David had nodded in response to, and then the door was shut and he was in stillness once more. The encounter had kept him up for a few more minutes, but eventually he faded off into sleep, only to be woken a couple hours later by Exer's smiling face hovering inches above his own.
When they had eventually stumbled downstairs for breakfast, Exer’s dad had been waiting in the kitchen, an eyebrow raised in query. They’d stumbled through a barely coherent excuse, and Mr. Campbell had clearly not believed it but let it slide anyways, turning back to the stove to finish scrambling eggs. For the rest of that morning, David and Exer hadn’t really locked eyes, too embarrassed and afraid of giving themselves away, though every so often Exer would slide a hand over and link their pinkies under the table, smiling brilliantly at David whenever he could bring himself to look up at him.
David blinks, and suddenly the memories of bedrooms and kitchens disappear into the corners and he's left staring blankly at his fan again, nobody beside him, no pinky secretly linked with his. He sighs, watching the fan spin in dizzying circles as he thinks.
They still haven’t actually talked to Mr. Campbell about that night, and he hasn't asked, but David can't help but suspect he knows something. He's a therapist, after all, and beyond that he’s wickedly observant. David doesn't regret that night in the slightest, though, and the idea of Exer's dad knowing about them isn't awful– he's always been openly supportive of gay people, so the idea of him putting the pieces together doesn't terrify David like the thought of his own dad figuring him out does.
David slaps his hands over his eyes, trying to force himself to think about something else. There's no use worrying right now, and he can't keep getting distracted dreaming about Exer, as much as he wants to. He still has to think of a place to take him tomorrow.
He drops his hands, staring at his walls and hoping to get ideas from there. He's always been a sentimental person, so almost every inch of the space above his desk has a picture tacked to it, or a note someone wrote him, or a valentine he received in Elementary school that he particularly liked. He has a ton of pictures– of him and Brenda, him and his parents, him and Exer, him and all of the REDs, even some of him and Pamela. One in particular hangs front and center: a photo strip from the arcade in town, when he and Exer first met.
He rolls off the bed and makes his way to his desk, carefully untacking the strip and peering at it closely. They were so young, back then, barely old enough to really know anything.
In the pictures, their faces are bright and happy, and Exer has the cutest chubby cheeks. They stayed that way until he turned twelve, David remembers. He used to squish Exer's face all the time, finding the way his lips smooshed together hilarious. Exer's hair is shorter in these pictures, curling just under his ears, but it's the same fluffy hair that David loves to run fingers through. Their smiles are gap-toothed, their faces slightly blurred from their inability to sit still, but they're still his favorite pictures of all time.
As he gazes fondly at the final picture on the strip, where Exer has an arm across David's shoulders and they're laughing so hard that they're both red, a light bulb goes off in his head.
He tacks the photo strip back in its place of honor with a wide smile, plans running though his head a mile a minute. He knows what he’s going to do, and it’s so simple that he doesn’t know how it took him so long to think of.
He's going to take Exer back to the arcade.