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People liked to joke that Basil knew Sunny more than Sunny knew himself.
Basil would always find that just a little funny. Sure, Basil knew a lot about his best friend, after all there were secrets the two had whispered to each other at the dead of night when the rest of their friends were asleep. They had inside jokes, and their mutual friend Kel would always be upset whenever the two would giggle at seemingly nothing funny.
People liked to joke that Basil knew Sunny more than Sunny knew himself, and before it was funny because it was wrong. Now, it was funny because they were right.
It was the 17th of July, just three days until Sunny’s birthday, and he and his best friend were at the park they often frequented late at night. Not a single other soul was in the park except the two of them. Maybe it was stupid, surely if someone saw the sight of them, the cops would be called. Two teenage boys, mischievously sitting in the park in the middle of the night. Had they been on a park bench, or maybe even the swing set it would have been fine. But no, of course the baby of the friend group would opt to hide away under the big yellow cat structure on the playground.
Sunny turned his head to meet his best friend’s eyes, a pink dusting on his cheeks from the sound of Basil’s sudden laughter. “What’s so funny?” Sunny pouted, his ears quickly changing to the tell-tale red that they often tend to do around Basil.
“Nothing, I just thought of something…” Basil shrugs it off, making Sunny’s pout more. It was cute. He was cute.
It was these moments that Basil tended to miss, these moments when they were kids again. These moments were like the ones from before Sunny was so painfully oblivious. Basil didn’t know why at first, but a few months ago, something changed in Sunny.
People liked to joke that Basil knew Sunny more than Sunny knew himself.
Basil laughed again, this time causing Sunny to furrow his brows and huff like an angry toddler. Basil took in the sights, staring at him as he pouted. He stared, and he admired all while Sunny traces little drawings into the sand of the playground with his finger. Whenever Sunny finished a new doodle, he would quickly show Basil. Basil would always lie and say it looked amazing, but it never really was a lie. The drawings never looked good but Sunny made them, and Sunny was amazing. And Sunny was stupid, and Sunny knew less about Sunny than Basil knew about Sunny. And Basil thought it was funny. So Basil laughed again
Sunny whined. And Sunny was cute. And Sunny was annoying. And Sunny was Sunny again. Sunny wasn’t a jumbled mess of words or a pile of goo at Basil’s touch. Sunny wasn’t panicked like he would be whenever Basil would take a seat next to him. Sunny was Sunny again.
Sunny was Sunny again. And that hurt Basil.
Because Basil knew Sunny more than Sunny knew himself.
Basil saw the good and Sunny saw the bad. Basil saw the allure of Sunny’s round rosy cheeks and Sunny saw a dumb baby face. Basil saw the beauty in his every movement and Sunny saw the mistakes. Basil saw the love Sunny shared, and Sunny saw the hatred that always died at his lips.
Basil knew Sunny more than Sunny knew himself.
Basil knew how whenever Sunny was bored he’d stare into the eyes of someone that was seemingly not there, talking to them in his head. And they would reply. Basil knew that when Sunny was frustrated he’d scrunch up his nose and growl to himself, muttering incomprehensible sentences to no one. Basil knew that when Sunny would be excited about something, his eyes would brighten just ever so slightly. The change would be invisible if you didn’t know what to look for.
Basil knew Sunny more than Sunny knew himself.
And Sunny didn’t know a thing.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Sunny spoke up. It was only just then that Basil had realized he had been silent for a long while, staring at Sunny’s shoulder. His shirt was a plain gray. He should wear more color. He’d look nice.
“These thoughts cost a million dollars, sorry!” Basil giggled, and Sunny rolled his eyes with a playful punch to Basil’s shoulder.
Sunny huffed, “I’ll get a million dollars, just you wait.”
“Oh yeah?” Basil scrambled up and out of the big yellow cat. “Million dollars or not, you’d have to catch me first!”
There it was. That invisible glimmer in Sunny’s eyes. That small smile that formed into a large grin. Only Basil saw them. This expression, this look was reserved for Basil and Basil only. He liked it that way. He liked being the only one who saw the childishness return to Sunny’s eyes. He liked Sunny.
And he knew more about Sunny than Sunny knew himself.
And Sunny didn’t know what Basil knew.
And Basil hated it this way.
Basil hated it, but Basil still ran. He still ran around the park, Sunny chasing him, right on his tail. Basil dipped into the trees, running through the bush. Had it not been for the countless times they had gone through this path, they would have gotten lost. But they didn’t, because this was their second and third home.
The secret lake behind the park was special. It was special to Mari and Hero. It was where they shared their first kiss, thinking no one was paying attention, but the younger ones of the group saw, and they teased, and they cheered. It was special to Aubrey, and it was special to Kel, because they fought the most here. And when Aubrey and Kel fight it their smiles are never dim. The lake was special to Sunny because whenever he was here, he was here with Basil. And the lake was special to Basil because that is when he knew that he knew more about Sunny than Sunny knew about himself.
Basil slowed down his running, his breath caught at the way the moonlight reflected on the water and bounced back to hit his eyes. Sunny took the moment to tackle him, pinning him to the ground. The boys laughed. They laughed because no one was there but them. They laughed because they were allowed to act like they were kids again. Sunny laughed because Basil was pretty. And Basil laughed because he knew more about Sunny than Sunny knew himself.
Their laughing fit calmed down, and Sunny collapsed onto the grass right beside Basil. Words piled in his throat like bile, but he swallowed them down. He didn’t know the right way to string them together. He didn’t know what Basil knew.
They were playing a game, and the game was tiring. Basil would always dance around Sunny, teasing him and saying he loves it when his face is red with love. Sunny would dance along, playing into a game he was unaware of. Basil knew and Sunny didn’t.
Because Basil knew more about Sunny than Sunny knew himself.
How do you tell someone you love them if they don’t even know what they are experiencing is love? How is Basil supposed to keep suppressing the urge to bite his lips and bite his tongue and force down all the ways he wants to say it to Sunny? He was growing tired of this game and day by day it became harder to resist the need to kiss Sunny’s lips until they were red and chapped, until they were both gasping for air with the final acknowledgement of love.
But of course, Basil knew more about Sunny than Sunny knew himself. And when the question escaped Basil’s lips he didn’t regret it for long.
“Do you think you’ve ever been in love?”
Sunny tensed and the hair on his arms stood up. “Have you?” He replied, not wanting to dwell on his own feelings for long.
Basil inhaled, a smile plastered on his face as he looked at the moon, “Yeah.”
Sunny frowned. He didn’t know why, but Basil did.
Sunny replied, “Are you still?” Basil turned his head to face him, humming in question as to what he meant. Sunny looked over as well, but his eyes didn’t follow his head and instead looked anywhere where the outline of Basil wasn’t. He spoke up again, “In love… Are you still in love?”
Basil smiled again. He turned his head to gaze again back at the moon, at the stars, at the peaceful night sky that cicadas would serenade every blissful summer night.
“With who?”
“That answer is gonna cost ya, too.”
Sunny groaned, a smile appearing on his face, dragging in a blush beside it, “You’re no fair! Ugh, what's the price?”
Basil turned to Sunny, and Sunny was turned to Basil. Their faces were close, and in the past Basil would have panicked, but he has made peace with what he knew about Sunny. He made peace with what Sunny didn’t know about himself.
But Sunny deserved to know. And Basil would tell him. Basil would let the words die in his throat and speak through his actions. He would speak of love, he’d plead Sunny to let himself love. He’d hope Sunny would let himself love Basil.
Basil glanced at Sunny’s lips before looking back into Sunny’s eyes, “You know what the price is, or do I have to tell you that too?”
Sunny stole a selfish look at Basil’s lips as well, understanding what the price is, and understanding the answer he was paying for. His mind would scream at him to stop, to run away and leave Basil alone in the park. But he didn’t listen. He was tired of the game he was unaware of playing. He wanted to win, and so did Basil.
They spoke, but not with words. They spoke through love. They spoke through the way their lips were seemingly perfect for each other. They spoke through the way they would both sit up, Basil taking the chance to straddle Sunny as he moved to sit on his lap. They spoke through the dead of night summer silence, the cicadas serenading a moon they will never see up close. They spoke with the tears in their eyes as they played the game of love, love, love.
Basil knew more about Sunny than Sunny knew himself.
But Sunny finally knew and finally accepted it. He finally was told that it was alright to feel these emotions, even if it's just them against the world now. He understood that being condemned to Hell for being a filthy sinner was alright as long as he got to kiss Basil. And kissing Basil was all he cared about at that moment.
Basil knew of love, and the love he had for Sunny.
And Sunny knew of love, and the love he had for Basil.
And they both knew more about each other than they knew about themselves.