Work Text:
2012.
Cove was never really the best with understanding his feelings.
To literally anyone in his life, this was no surprise. The boy was impulsive and even reckless as an outlet, even if he was very sweet. This only became more potent in his teenage years. He was vastly different at 14 as compared to 8-years-old—to outsiders, he'd changed. But to those who knew him, he was the same, only more and less at the same time.
At this moment, he was having a pretty usual Sunday. It was evening, and his best friend was over. Though the activity wasn't something they usually got up to.
"You should paint your nails," Syd had said on the phone earlier.
That had Cove confused. "Why?"
Cove could hear Syd shrug through the speaker. "I dunno. I'm bored. I got some new colors from Ma, but I'm not gonna use 'em."
He found that unsurprising. Syd only ever painted his nails black.
"So I wanna see if you like it. You can have them if you do."
And so the two made plans to hang out, and there they were. Sitting in Cove's room, reviewing all the little bottles Syd had brought over. He took them out of his bag one by one.
"There's lime green, white, red, orange... hey, this one kinda looks like you."
Syd held up a bottle of sea-foam green nail polish. Cove looked at it, then at Syd. His eyes smiled behind his square glasses.
"Wanna try it?" Syd asked.
Cove shook his head. Syd continued to rifle through his new collection.
"Okay, then, what's your favorite color?"
He shrugged. "I dunno, you can just pick anything."
"Fine, be like that. I'll pick my favorite."
After placing down a deep blue, a soft yellow, and an olive green, Syd settled on a soft reddish-pink. He absentmindedly handed it to Cove.
"Oh, I don't..."
Syd looked up at him. Cove found himself distracted by his big, golden eyes. His big, confused golden eyes. Then it clicked.
"Oh, you haven't painted them before."
Cove smiled apologetically. "Yeah, sorry."
Syd brushed it off. "It's fine. I'll do it."
Before Cove could really comment, Syd opened the bottle with one quick twist and picked up Cove's hand.
The sensation of having his hand held wasn't an unusual one. Since they were kids, Syd would hold Cove's hand now and then. Especially as a means of comfort. But there was something about the delicacy with which Syd took his hand, the way he gently encouraged him to spread out his fingers. It made Cove squeak a little.
Thankfully, Syd didn't seem to notice. He was focused on swirling the paint onto the little brush. Cove watched Syd's intent expression as he picked it up and held it towards Cove's fingers.
"Don't move. It'll mess me up."
Cove nodded.
The polish was cool against his nail. It felt like when you put lotion on your skin but you aren't prepared for it yet. Syd started with his index finger, covering the surface of the nail with pink in broad strokes. He worked quickly and smoothly. Cove wondered how many times he'd done it before. Though he did always see Syd with black nails...
Rather than moving on to the middle finger, Syd turned Cove's hand to have better view of his thumb. And he continued painting. When Syd showed affection, he was very sure of himself. As a kid, he'd drown Cove in hugs. These days, even when playfully punching him, he'd use a lot of force. Now, he was doing something that required care. He didn't grab his hand and grip it tightly like he always did. He held it carefully.
It made Cove's lips tighten into a straight line.
He didn't really register when Syd had moved back to the rest of his fingers. He already had the middle and ring finger done, and was on his little finger. Syd's expression radiated pure focus. His brows creased slightly, his eyes looking down intently. His lips were just a bit parted. He held his tongue between his teeth—a resting habit he'd had since they'd known each other.
Then Syd looked up at Cove. He had long, full eyelashes that curled upward.
It occurred to Cove that Syd had said something.
"Uh—sorry, what'd you say?"
"Don't use your hands for anything," Syd said. "It's gotta dry." Syd had let go of Cove, and his hand felt lonely now. Syd gestured for Cove to give him his other hand.
Cove's left hand had been sitting on his desk. When he finally paid attention to it, he realized it had been clenched in a fist. When he flattened it out, he felt a stinging in his palm. He'd been digging his nails into his skin.
Syd took Cove's hand off the surface of the desk and positioned it in front of him. Cove tried to figure out what to do with his now-painted hand as Syd got situated. Again, he felt that chilled sensation against his fingernail.
Cove's gaze was drawn to Syd's features again. His freckles weren't as present now as they were in summer. They were still visible, though. They made him think of little stars on his skin. How sometimes you couldn't really see them well, but in the right place, they would shine. Syd's mouth shifted, and he bit his lip as he worked. Cove felt him wipe something off his cuticle—he must have made a mistake. Cove's mind wasn't really concerned with that.
Syd had thicker lips than him. Biting down on the lower one was Syd's two front teeth. Cove thought of the time in elementary school when Syd had been pushed while at a water fountain, knocking his teeth into the metal. They weren't chipped, but one was discolored. It was still visible, years later. Cove knew Syd hated it.
He pursed his lips then. Cove's hand shifted in his as it was turned to be at a better angle for Syd to paint. He felt a brush against his lower leg, Syd leaning forward to feel more comfortable. Their knees grazed one another.
When Cove heard a sound, he momentarily thought something had happened outside. He quickly realized it was his own heart beating in his ears.
Before he had the chance to implode, Syd straightened up and smiled to himself.
"Done."
Cove made eye contact with his friend again.
"Seriously, don't let anything touch your nails. If they get messed up I'm gonna have to do them again."
Cove nodded. He knew he couldn't handle something like that anytime soon. Syd began putting all the little bottles away.
The two spent a while longer together. Initially, that time was spent trying to figure out what they could do without messing up Cove's nails, which Syd took as a fun challenge. Cove himself took it with utmost sincerity. Syd said not to get his nails messed up, so he didn't.
It wasn't too late when Syd went back home. Cove knew he had a more flexible curfew when it came to hanging out at Cove's, since they were across the street from each other. He was glad that Syd's moms weren't too strict on that.
Cove didn't often hear crickets, but they were out that night when he was laying in bed. They chirped to the sight of the moonlight streaming through Cove's window.
He stared up at his hands. Pink nails, delicately done. Smooth and seamless. He pressed the nail sides of his fingers to his mouth. The surface felt cool against his lips.
Cove wasn't sure why, but something made him think of school.
Neither him nor Syd were particularly popular. Cove was nice enough to people and people were nice enough to him. Most of the time. There were still those people who would go out of their way to make sure everyone had a terrible day. When family and friends commented on him and Syd's dynamic, it was fine. It was light teasing. When those kids called Cove "Syd's boyfriend", it was meant to be an insult.
Cove knew he'd be made fun of tomorrow.
He looked at his nails. He thought of Syd. His smile, his eyes and the feeling of his hand in Cove's. Cove felt heat rise to his face.
He couldn't avoid admitting it to himself. He knew how he felt about his friend. His neighbor. The kid who'd been there when there was nobody else in the world.
Cove's hands clasped together. He couldn't think of doing anything about it. It wouldn't... It would be bad. And Cove knew how he was. He didn't want to ruin it. What they had.
Maybe someday he could understand these things. He could change. And getting his nails painted wouldn't give him a heart attack anymore.