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The lake house might be the best idea anyone’s ever had. The charity event at the Redmond offices was great— but Ren's legs are itching to stretch out after many days of sitting down for hours at a time. And the energy is buzzing through his body, so much so that he’s practically bouncing in his seat when the minibus pulls into the driveway.
Of course, he’s hardly the only one who's excited, Zed and Martyn had been talking about jumping in the lake as soon as possible. But their combined enthusiasm is in quite a contrast to False, his sleepy bus buddy who's been taking a long nap on his shoulder.
Or at least that’s what she pretends to do— every so often he’ll glance down and find her staring out the window; taking in the landscapes of America from the comfort of his shoulder. (A very comfortable spot apparently, since she’s been laying there for the last few hours without much movement.)
Ren obviously doesn’t mind, his heart soars at the notion of being able to serve his friends. And being of use to False no less is even sweeter— Ren will be the first to admit (to himself, at least) that he quite enjoys her unexpected affection. They've not known each other in the flesh for long, but it feels so natural to have her around him it's almost surreal.
And it’s causing his brain and body to go completely haywire— female attention like this is something he hasn’t experienced in years. And even then, False's platonic affection supersedes the amount he’s had even with some girlfriends.
The younger, immature version of Ren would have probably read into all of this— attempted to make a move. But Rens is far past his prime and given up on that kind of stuff. False is his best friend, and her companionship matters to him more than anything. Whatever that manifests as is none of his business. Ren will play the part False wants him to, and in exchange he gets to bask in the shimmering light of her presence. Nothing in the world could convince him to trade that in, take that risk. (Except maybe False herself, but that will never happen of course.)
Ren helps haul the luggage to the front door as they key open the place— the hermits settle into their respective rooms, mingle and explore around the lake house. In the distance he sees Zed and Martyn already jumping off the pontoon into the blue lake. Through the open windows he watches Martyn’s perfect form as he flexes and jumps off the platform.
It’s so incredibly impressive even from this distance that he lets out an audible cheer. False snickers from behind him, and he turns just as she slips her phone into her back pocket of her jeans, crossing her arms over one another.
Ren mimics her in a teasing fashion, taking a step towards her. “And what are you giggling about this afternoon, Miss False?”
She snorts. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Her hands fall to her sides, and she pushes herself up from the kitchen bench she's pressed back on— standing on her tip toes to create height for herself. Ren instinctively wants to duck down and settle the advantage, False always has the upper ground, the higher hand; but in the tangible world Ren is technically taller.
“I would like to know, madam.” He crosses his arms and leans closer. “That’s why I did ask.”
False's eyes quickly widen and narrow. She takes a step forward minimising the short distance between them and pokes his chest with her index finger.
“I guess you’ll never know then.” She steps back and away, fluttering over to some other conversation just out on the porch— Ren stares for a moment, blinks and feels a warmth radiating from his chest. Butterfly touch erupting into a swarm.
Through the window he glances out, Martyn's talented feats no longer capture his attention, instead his eyes focus on the way her hair falls perfectly around her shoulders, her slender frame and the way her face scrunches when she laughs. Ren's stomach twists, at the muffled sound, mind racing to defend his platonic world view. In any other scenario this kind of banter would have felt familiar, but this is False, and False doesn’t flirt with him… right?
Impulse is leaning over the kitchen bench, massaging his forehead as he checks over the hermits' orders for the last time. He flickers between the discord channel and the string of pizzas listed on the backside of a scruffy receipt. Ren would normally try to be more helpful about this, but instead he's busy rebooting his brain after it pathetically goes into panic mode when False re-enters the house and slips onto the stool next to him.
It’s just the two of them alongside Martyn and Impulse; apparently, they’re rooming together. Which reminds him that he and False aren’t, and that at least puts a stop to his dangerously drifting mind and helps him stop sweating so much. (He’s sure he must smell gross by now.)
“Don't stress it too much man— it’s just pizza.” Martyn laughs, patting his roommates back. “Worst case we can always cook something extra with the groceries— or just eat from that sweet shelf.”
Impulse lets out a groan and Martyn laughs again, teasingly. “Right— sorry you're on a diet.”
“I’m right with you dude.” Ren sighs. “When I see stuff in real life, I can't stop myself.”
False snickers from beside him. “Are we gonna have to blind fold you?”
“If you want me to behave then yes.” Before Ren's brain can even catch onto the subtle innuendo it spills out of his mouth; and what was once innocuous now feels obvious and inappropriate. False's eyes bulge, Martyn bursts into laughter and Impulse clears his throat awkwardly. He can feel a blush creeping up his neck and ears and wow, he’s really bad at keeping this professional, isn’t he?
“Uhm, well you better start covering your eyes Ren. There’s about to be a lot of groceries.” Martyn ribs, nudging his side and Ren immediately covers his eyes, playing into the bit.
“I think I have a sleeping mask from the plane upstairs if you want.” False's voice teases and Ren can’t even look up at her out of shame.
“I’m dying, I'm dead my dudes.” He declares dryly. Martyn laughs, lifts and drops Ren's arm. He lets it flop like a dead body and the group giggles. Daringly, he sneaks a peak of False's face and his mouth creeps into a pleased smile, his heart overflowing with fullness. He’s always liked making her laugh.
“Alrighty then– Falsie, do you want to give this a check before I send this off?” Impulse asks, and even though Ren won’t look up he can hear the rustle of the obnoxiously long receipt from their previous target weekend expenditures drag across the bench.
“Sure.” She hums, fingers methodically trailing down the paper back of the receipt, pausing midway through.“You’re missing margarita pizza– but we can just take off the pepperoni pizza, Ren and I can share.” She says, matter of factly.
Ren's head shoots up; margarita is his favourite flavour and he's ecstatic she’d remembered that. “But pepperoni is your favourite." He whines, Ren knows he likes to be self-sacrificial, but that doesn’t mean False has to be.
“And I can have it whenever.” She reaches for the pen and scribbles out her order, rewriting the order in neat loopy letters beneath it. “Besides, I like margarita pizza too.”
After the Hermits put the groceries away and a number of Martyn's teasing chides about keeping his eyes closed, the pizzas have arrived. Ren is leant over the kitchen sink, washing vegetables for a quick salad he and impulse decided to make. Lettuce, tomatoes, onions, cucumbers, avocados, capsicum, carrot– Ren rinses them in the sink and pats them dry with paper cloth. Letting impulse dice them up skilfully, and toss it all together into a bowl. They mix it and serve on paper plates; a healthy helping of balsamic vinegar drizzled on top. Ren nips a couple of slices of margarita pizza which he settles to the side of the salad and grabs a fork from the kitchen.
Some of the hermits are drawn outside to watch the sunset, but Ren finds himself a comfortable spot on the couch next to False. He leaves a respectable platonic gap, (because even if his brain is going insane, he won’t actually enact anything) and makes polite conversation with the rest of the group between bites of dinner.
Martyn has helpfully gone outside to sit with some of the Brits, (which alleviates the teasing) Impulse is relaxed back in an armchair and Pearl and Karn are curled up on an adjacent couch with their legs tucked into each other. It’s so casually intimate Ren can't help but internally fawn at it— he’s a hopeless romantic, and it endears him to see his friends so happy with each other.
In fact, the more he thinks about it, the more he notices just how many people in the house are happily coupled up— or at least have someone waiting at home for them. Wives, partners, kids, pets— there’s hardly anyone among them who live truly alone. Except for Ren, who might be a true hermit. He’s got friends, his garden, his hobbies, his work– Ren isn’t unfulfilling, there’s just not a lot filling his life. That’s what makes times like these so special and precious, Ren gets to pretend to have a big family— play the part of a provider and server to his friends.
“How's your salad going mate? Really sticking to that fitness, eh?” Pearl teases, Ren laughs in reply.
“Yeah, are you trying to impress someone, Ren?” Karn smirks, jestingly gives him a once over. “Because I must say I am very impressed.”
Even though it’s a joke, Ren feels the heat rising underneath his collar. Compliments like this from friends have never been easy to take, especially now that he’s older and has nothing to show for it. Even if his friends spoil him with sweet talk, even when he claims to have a line, nobody's really in his queue.
“I mean this is hardly impressive—”
“Some people are into that.” False interjects quickly, the group's attention immediately shifts towards her, and she rushes to explain herself shyly. “Y’know cos the fans, TikTok’s…”
“Have you seen them too, False?” Karn chirps eagerly, and Pearl playfully smacks his arm, giggling into his shoulder.
“What, my love?”
“You can’t just say—”
Ren turns towards False, her face is flush red in embarrassment, and he wonders what Karn could have possibly meant.
“What TikTok’s?”
“N-Nothing, Ren.” She presses her lips together, a small smile forming against her lips as she leans across to the coffee table to sip her drink.
“Come on— it has to be something.” Ren’s already embarrassed himself a lot in front of her this evening— surely it’s only fair that he knows what his friends are embarrassed about too.
“It can't be worse than that vine Gem showed me.” Impulse snorts. “I can’t believe I talked about it on stream too—”
Ren laughs awkwardly, looking between the happy couple stifling giggles in front of him, and False who's completely stiff beside him.
“I mean… it isn’t bad, right?"
“No, it’s—” False coughs, and looks down, fidgeting with the cardboard fringing at the edge of the plate. “I’ll tell you later.” She mumbles, the room goes quiet, and they all focus on their eating.
“This salad is really good Ren, a great choice in vegetables.”
“I mean all the credit to you man.” Ren raises his fork. “You’re the one who whipped this up.”
“I’m surprised at how fresh it tastes to be honest– I didn’t expect this from Walmart of all places.”
He nods in agreement. “The lettuce isn’t as fresh as the ones from my garden, but they’re pretty good for grocery store stuff.”
False tilts her head at him confused. “No way, surely not.”
She blithely takes his fork from his hands and stabs a lettuce leaf on his plate. His eyes follow as she pries the leaf off the prongs with her hands and nibbles on it, passing the fork back to Ren absently. He stares— he stares at it for a while, barely able to move until she’s finished chewing and agrees with him.
“Oh, it is good.” She nods, hand covering her mouth as she chews. Ren lets out a small noise in agreement but he’s not even looking at her properly or thinking straight— because his brain cells focus on the small warmth the pad of her fingers left on the utensil, and the way her thigh is now pressed against his own on the living room couch. She moved closer.
Rens never thought of himself as tall or big in any capacity, but in comparison to the rest of the hermits here, in comparison to False it’s obvious. And fucking hell he needs to stop looking at her legs in those jeans — eyes darting between his plate and her as if he’s no longer hungry for his own food.
Karn, his saving grace, chirps up, and Ren drags his evil wandering eyes away to the adjacent couch. He makes polite conversation and tries not to think about the way False's calf brushes against his, as if she’s trying to mimic the couple in front of them, legs intertwined.
Ren decides he can’t be trusted to think freely anymore when False pats his jean clad knee before she stands to leave and his mouth actually waters. What the fuck is wrong with him.
Despite his selfish thoughts, False is beckoning him to come with him; and Ren can hardly deny her. He sees food in real life and can’t resist it– so how can he resist his thoughtful, beautiful coworker and long-time friend, how can he not do as she says?
Ren throws his paper plate in the bin and quickly rinses and stacks his fork in the dishwasher, False downs the rest of her drink and does the same. He doesn’t even ask where they're going, just follows her up the stairs. Their feet creak against the floorboards of the hallway and he internally winces. Although there's nothing to be secret about (because why would there be something secretive about this?) he still finds himself cringing at it. Like if he’s too loud this spell will break, and this lovely time he gets to spend with False alone will cease to exist.
The clues begin to fall into place when False opens a door into a bedroom instead of one of the lounges or common areas. A whiff of sweet perfume, a tossed aside beanie and her suitcase tucked neatly under the bed offers a little more context— this is False's room. He’s in False's room. The girl of his dreams is inviting her into her dimmed room. This is fine.
She makes her way over to her bed and flops onto it, patting the space beside her. Despite her direction, Ren still looks around the room like a lost puppy. He spots more luggage that must belong to Gem. False is sharing a room. She has a roommate just like Ren does, so obviously nothing is going to happen. (Not that anything would happen if she wasn’t because they're just colleagues and best friends and—) Fuck it.
Ren isn’t going to pretend to be blind– she's flirting with him. Or teasing him. Or something. Whatever. It could still mean nothing. Just playful platonic teasing among friends— like how he does with most of his colleagues. (Except, the devil in his brain whispers, False never flirts with anybody.) He shuffles over awkwardly and decides that sitting on the floor will be better for him. False is a temptation he can’t resist. (And the devil in his brain taunts him with the idea that it seems maybe she’s having a hard time doing that too.)
So, Ren will be responsible as he can and draw the line in the sand, if False wants to do anything that's her prerogative; and he’ll more than happily oblige. He’ll eagerly follow her lead.
For now, False is staring out the open window. A light breeze filters through the sheer curtains letting moonlight and blue shadows cast about the room. False's profile is half visible in the darkness, but it’s become so very familiar to him that his eyes can trace it even when he can't see it. The straight angles of her nose and regal cheek bones against the dip and curve of her rounded cheeks and wide bright eyes. If he dares dip his eyes lower, he’ll spot that signature, gorgeous smile of hers, but if he does that he’ll be thinking about her lips and that’ll make this lovely rendezvous an actual problem for himself.
“The moon is lovely tonight.” The common mischief Ren has spotted in her voice all afternoon and evening is absent— this is False making a sincere comment, and all he’s been doing is looking at her. Dammit, he’s so embarrassingly down bad for her. Somehow, even when Rens tries his best not to, he can't help but fawn over her.
His head tilts towards the window, the moon is waning in the sky, uncovered by clouds. “It is.”
False frustratedly sighs and Ren wilts— he was trying to not upset her, and somehow, he’d accidentally the exact opposite. Forget being down bad, Ren's embarrassingly bad at being her friend as well apparently.
He turns his attention immediately back towards her, False's brows are furrowed as she anxiously combs through her hair, she raises an eyebrow. “What— nothing Ren? You got no cheesy lines for me? None at all?”
“What cheesy line?” He tilts his head and smiles blankly, he feels like he’s missed something here.
False anxiously twirls her hair. “Y’know… the stupid stuff you say to Martyn or whatever...” Her voice trails off at the end, and he can barely hear the last part.
“Huh?”
She groans and face palms, falling back onto her bed. “Ren.”
“False, I'll be honest, I have no idea what you’re saying— you’re gonna have to just tell it to me straight.” Ren pats her knee consolingly. False jolts back up and he sheepishly smiles.
“C’mon the TikTok’s, the blind fold…” She mumbles, peaking up down at his hand, face astonishingly pink. Their eyes interlock and Ren's hand freezes on her knee. A spring breeze floats through the room, but nothing moves. Ren can feel a helpless giddy smile wash over him as he stares. Ren is surely fine with being her best friend forever and nothing more— but damn, he wouldn’t mind this either. He wouldn’t mind this at all.
After longer than is probably normal the spell breaks, False blinks bashfully away and Ren's hand slips back to his side. False takes a measured breath and puts her hands into her lap, straightening her posture. Ren mimics, like an attentive pupil, wiggling in spot. She giggles, shoulders tensing and relaxing again and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I think you’re–” False opens and closes her mouth, digging her foot into the floorboards nervously. “Well, I kinda have a crush on you.”
His mouth falls open and Ren’s eyes open wide, blinking once, twice. Holy shit. Never in a million years did he think he was gonna hear that sentence again— let alone from False Symmetry of all people. His lovely colleague, his favourite person to talk to, the most beautiful woman in the world in his eyes.
“M-Me too.” It’s the best response his brain can think of while it reboots itself for the second time in the day. Because how can False have a crush on him? And since when?
False giggles and shifts forward towards him, resting her chin in her hands. “I’ve been trying to get your attention all afternoon.”
Ren's heart melts, if only she’d known just how eager he’d been to get hers too. “I’m all yours, False.”
False presses her lips together and smiles, stretching out her arms to cradle his face. She cautiously drags him towards him, and Ren shifts to his knees drawing himself upright to meet her eye to eye. His cheeks are flushed, and he knows he’s sweating once again, stomach twisting in anticipation for her next move.
“Kiss me?” Her thumb is tenderly stroking his cheek; Ren thinks he’s died and ascended to some kind of heaven. Who is he that he has the most gorgeous women in the world asking him to kiss her? And more importantly, who is he to deny such a polite request?
Hesitantly, as if to not break the spell, Ren reaches up to brush her hair out of her eyes, and lets his eyes trace over the details of her face in close proximity, the curve and dip of her cheeks, the dust of freckles from days in the sun, and the slither of shimmering moon light sparkling in her blue eyes. He unashamedly bites his lip, and grins like a kid with a double scooped ice cream cone. Ren has never been lucky in his life, but somehow when it comes to her, he always gets everything he ever wanted. She spoils him with her affection. He smiles fondly; she smiles back.
Prepared as he ever will be, he leans forward and tilts his head, False's eyes flutter expectantly and he leans forward until his lips meet hers. And Ren thinks he’ll remember this moment forever, the softness of her lips, the faint taste of his favourite pizza and vanilla chapstick, and the way their hands both freeze against each other, mutually starstruck (somehow).
Ren doesn’t sink into the kiss as much as he normally would, instead parting back and allowing his forehead to rest against hers, inhaling her scent and the moment as it were. False's arms move from his face, and for a moment he thinks he might have fucked up somehow, but then she’s dragging him by the collar, kissing him hard and sloppily. The butterflies in Ren's stomach awaken and swarm again, and he finds himself leaning further towards her. His hands clamber for balance on the mattress and his hand accidentally brushes against her thigh and False jolts, sucking in a sudden breath.
“Sorry.” Ren winces, pulling back, False's hands are still firmly stuck on his collar, grinning deviously as she pulls him towards her still. His cheeks flush as he leans in again to chase her lips, mind absent of all thoughts except for her touch and lips; like a man dying of thirst laps at the waters of an oasis. She leads him to the well, and without hesitation, he drinks. His body buzzes, chasing the high of the moment, the taste of her lips and the scent of her shampoo and perfume.
He runs his fingers through her hair and sighs dreamily against her lips, thanking his lucky stars for whoever decided on the lake house vacation. He’s sure soon enough they’ll hear Gem walking upstairs and he’ll have to slip back to his own room, but for now he's content following False's lead, as she pulls him from his knees to her bed.