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Monday, December 15th, 2014: North Avenue South, Atlanta — Casey
While the official ‘now’ of their relationship was cemented on ESPN for the nation to see, the shift from being David’s best friend to being David’s boyfriend is otherwise surprisingly subtle, so much so that Casey doesn't immediately process the reality of their togetherness. In that first week after kissing on live television, his and David's lives are comprised mainly of hours spent together in David's bed, punctuated by inconvenient interruptions like class and eating. The immediate aftermath of David's interview is mostly more of the same, with a little less time in bed and a little more ‘no comment’. By the end of the second week of being together, the sense of permanence begins to sink in, but Casey still feels more like he’s in a long, detailed dream.
They already spent all their free time together and, now that Casey has enough perspective to be honest about it, it’s not like they were exactly hands-off with each other before. That David’s room now houses two people instead of one might not be readily apparent to most people. Casey’s belongings have been slowly mixing with David’s since they drove down from Lima, his clothes are neatly tucked into the bottom drawer, and their taste in fiction is close enough that the newly alphabetized and reshelved books all seem to belong together. Other than the thankfully rapidly-dwindling media attention and David’s bed now sporting a second pillow, Casey and David being together hasn’t really changed the world around them.
Except for Ty.
Now that Casey and David are officially a ‘thing’, Ty seems to have formalized his adoption of Casey. It’s kind of nice to have an older brother, more or less. Casey knows Ty would have his back if any trouble arose, but it also means that Casey feels even more comfortable messing with Ty, like at the ‘Finally’ party when Casey and David hid in David’s room and Casey insisted he couldn’t come out because he’d lost his clothes. David thought it was funny at least, but Ty pretended to be horribly traumatized, and swore he’d pay Casey back.
Ty, by the way, wasn’t kidding about that.
David opens the door in the morning, after they’re dressed, then stops. “Case? There’s a… thing for you.”
“A thing?” Casey asks, as he’s walking towards the door. “What kind of— oh.”
“Yeah. That kind of thing.” David shrugs and steps to the side.
Casey regards the enormous bottle of lube with the large silver and gold bow on it, and the little tag that says ‘CASEY’ in Ty’s handwriting. “Well, it’s, um. Economical.”
“It’s not the right kind!” David hisses, frowning.
“There’s a right kind?” Casey asks. “Which kind is the right kind? And what makes it the right kind?”
“The kind we use,” David says. “That has a red label.” He shakes his head. “I’m going to go make coffee.”
“Well, I think it was thoughtful of Ty,” Casey says. “I thought we just used that kind you had because you had it. I didn’t know there was a brand requirement or anything.” He picks up the enormous bottle of lube. “I think I’ll just put it on the side table here.”
“Hmm.” David looks very skeptical, and he leaves the room, headed down the hall to the kitchen. “I don’t think ‘thoughtful’ was his intent.”
“Maybe he just thought we had lots of things that needed made slippery,” Casey calls after David. “It’s got a pump top. That’s probably useful!”
“Making coffee!” David yells back.
Casey shrugs and puts the bottle on the side table, removing the nametag and the bow. He’ll make a point of making sure Ty knows the gift is appreciated, even if David doesn’t really appreciate it.
Wednesday, December 17th, 2014: North Avenue South, Atlanta — Ty
Ty has to concede, at least in his own mind, that the giant bottle of lube did not in any way seem to mortify Casey. Special K, sure, but not Casey, so Ty tries to think of another thing to do. Casey seems like he’s louder than ever, and it’s bad enough for Danny and Coop, but Ty’s right next door.
He calls Mercedes on Wednesday morning and tries to talk her into helping him out, with either real or fake noises, but she has an exam the next day and refuses out of some kind of principle. Ty shakes his head and goes to shave, since he’s been running a little late all day long.
Unfortunately, what comes out of his shaving gel canister isn’t shaving gel. It’s lube, and Ty sighs. “Casey O’Brien!” he shouts, but since no one else is in the dorm, there’s no response. Ty shakes his head and goes over to borrow Coop’s. Coop probably won’t even notice any is missing.
After Ty shaves, he decides to brush his teeth; that’s a mistake, since his toothpaste is lube, too. This time he just uses some of Special K’s toothpaste and doesn’t shout anyone’s name.
Practice isn’t over for the season, since they have a bowl on New Year’s Eve, but Ty decides to wait until he’s back in the dorm to shower, since it’s getting a lot colder and showering before walking back usually makes him colder. That’s when he discovers that the body wash is also lube.
“I’m going to figure something out,” Ty mutters to himself, determined not to let on to Casey that he’s noticed. Casey and Special K go to Pride Alliance after a bit, and Ty grins as he surveys the living room. Casey has the DVDs all alphabetized; it doesn’t take Ty very long to move all of the movies that start with ‘Z’ to the start of the alphabet, sandwiched between ‘A’ and ‘B’.
“There,” Ty says quietly to himself. “And no more lube.”
Tuesday, December 23rd, 2014: Lima, Ohio — Dave
Dave doesn’t stop when they hit Cincinnati, because Casey’s sacked out from riding through Kentucky. Dave admits that he’s a little bit relieved to leave Atlanta, because after the lube, the lube replacing all of Ty’s toiletries, and the movies being rearranged near-daily, Dave needs a break from the little tit-for-tat thing Ty and Casey have going on.
Casey had seemed like he was going to hyperventilate when it came to the DVDs not being alphabetized correctly; Ty, for his part, had started keeping his new toiletries locked in his room. Dave, Danny, and Coop are just trying to stay out of it, especially since they think it’ll start up again as soon as classes start again.
At least no one had argued about Casey staying at the Karofsky house over the break, which means Dave drives straight up I–75 and into Lima, then straight to home, even though Paul won’t be off work for another hour or two. Dave parks and turns off the truck, then touches Casey’s shoulder. “Case? Lima.”
“Already?” Casey says sleepily, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Something about Kentucky, I guess.”
“Already,” Dave agrees. “Want to unpack or want to go get a snack?”
“Unpacking won’t take long, and then it’s all done,” Casey says.
“Okay.” Dave shrugs. “Milkshake sound good, though?”
“I do like milkshakes.”
Dave laughs. “Yeah.” He climbs out of the truck and grabs their bags out of the back, handing Casey’s to him. “I’m allowed to be amused that Coach and Monty are spending Christmas Eve here, right?”
“But that’s what families do, I thought?” Casey says, looking perplexed.
“I don’t think so?” Dave says. “I mean, maybe some do.” He shrugs and unlocks the door, resisting the urge to dump his bag at the foot of the stairs and head for either the couch to rest or the truck for the milkshake. Casey wants to actually unpack, though, so he starts up the stairs.
“Oh. Hmm. I guess you can be amused, then,” Casey says. “I just never had more than two people at a time to spend Christmas with.”
“Your number of people has risen exponentially,” Dave jokes, dropping his bag on the floor just inside the bedroom. “Are you sure you wanted to unpack?”
“Did you want to do something else?” Casey asks, a little too innocently, setting his bag down next to Dave’s.
Dave grins a little. “Milkshake, take a rest, just that kind of thing, you know.”
Casey makes an exaggerated little pout, and Dave fights not to grin wider. “Oh. Well. I guess we could just have milkshakes and take a nap,” Casey says, heaving a dramatically loud sigh. “I know you’re probably very tired.”
“All that driving, it’s terrible,” Dave agrees, starting to laugh, and he sits down on the bed and pats the bed beside him. “You could, I don’t know. Motivate me to bother with unpacking?”
Casey sits down next to Dave. “I could motivate you and then unpack for both of us,” Casey offers.
“That sounds like a win-win situation for me,” Dave admits. “What’s the catch here, Case? Are you going to deny me a milkshake?”
Casey shakes his head soberly. “I would never do that, ever ever.”
Dave grins. “Then I guess today’s like… Christmas come early?”
“But no elf jokes,” Casey says, putting his arm around Dave’s neck and pulling him into a kiss. Dave lets himself think briefly about how different things are, now, than the last time the two of them were together in Dave’s Lima bedroom, and how different again from the time prior to that. It seems like a longer time before than Dave knows it is, and then he decides to stop thinking about it and just worry about kissing Casey.
“No elf jokes,” Dave agrees after a few moments.
Friday, January 2nd, 2015: North Avenue South, Atlanta — Casey
After Christmas and a quick trip to El Paso for a bowl game, which Tech wins, Casey and David drive back from Lima to Atlanta. Casey actually stays awake for the entire drive, which puts them back at the dorm around seven that night. They carry their bags up and are barely through the door when they hear Ty.
“Aww, man, I was hoping you were the pizza,” Ty says.
“I didn’t let the pizza guy keep the key,” Casey retorts.
“You gave the pizza man a key?” Ty asks. “Are you really ready to be even halfway exclusive in your relationship with a purveyor of pizza?”
“Though, if he had a key, we wouldn’t have to leave the room at all, would we?” Casey says to David. “The pizza could just come right to us.”
“I’m just here to learn about architecture,” David says. He looks like he’d consider smiling if he didn’t think it would encourage Casey and Ty.
“I ordered enough for everyone,” Ty says. “I’m starting out the year ahead, see? Now everyone owes me one.”
Casey looks at Ty suspiciously, but since he does want to eat the pizza, he just shrugs and says, “I’m putting my bag away.”
“Pizza should be here before you finish,” Ty says cheerfully.
Casey shoots one more suspicious look before carrying his bag back to the room, David following him. “You should check for boobytraps,” Casey suggests.
“Me?” David says, shaking his head. “I just hope the pizza isn’t covered in anchovies or something.”
“I don’t think Ty would do that to pizza. Maybe if it were salad or something.”
“Maybe.” David still seems dubious, setting his bag down and looking around the room.
Casey puts his clean clothes away in his drawer, then gestures at David’s bag. “Kick it over. I’ll put your stuff away so the bags don’t sit.”
David shakes his head, but pushes his bag over. “I think that’s the pizza guy. I’m going to make sure Ty doesn’t put anything extra on it.”
“Okay,” Casey says. “We should probably keep close track of the amount of lube in the giant bottle, just in case. No surprises that way.”
“I’m pretty sure Ty wouldn’t put lube on pizza, though,” David says, shaking his head and heading down the hall. Casey finishes putting their clean clothes away and then goes back into the common area to eat completely anchovy-free pizza. Ty still has a questionable expression on his face, but nothing weird happens for the rest of the evening. The DVDs are even still in the correct spots, which Casey appreciates. In exchange for this, Casey makes an effort to keep his volume to a reasonable level that night. Not a tremendous effort, but he at least thinks about making an effort.
In the morning, Ty grabs David for a conversation about something before Casey or David even have a chance to have breakfast or coffee. Casey goes into the kitchen to pour both of them a cup of coffee and get them some Clif bars to tide them over until they can go out for a proper breakfast. When he opens the cabinet to get the Clif bars, however, tragedy befalls him.
“Ty!” Casey shouts. “What happened to the bins? What did you do?”
“Case?” David says from the living room. “Did something happen?”
“The bins!” Casey repeats. “Ohmigod, Ty, why?”
Instead of the usual clutter of items in the cabinet next to Casey’s three small bins, the cabinet is entirely filled, top to bottom, with small bins, each containing only one item, each labeled with Ty’s name. ‘Ty’s blueberry Clif bar’, which contains only one blueberry crisp Clif bar, is stacked on top of ‘Ty’s brownie Clif bar’, which holds a single chocolate brownie Clif bar. Both of those are stacked on top of ‘Ty’s carot cake clif bar’; Casey can’t help but assume both the typo and lack of capitalization were intentional. Two opaque bins sit on the very top shelf, where Casey can’t reach, both labeled ‘TOP SHELF’.
“What?” David repeats again, this time just inside the kitchen. “That’s a lot of bins.”
Casey jabs one pointer finger in the direction of the bins. “Look at what he’s done, David!”
“Seems like,” David says slowly, “you two might need to call a truce.”
“Those aren’t even his bars!” Casey says, stomping one foot. “They aren’t even his!”
“Yeah, Ty doesn’t eat the carrot cake ones,” David agrees. “I’m sure he’ll put it all back later, Case.”
“Ty!” Casey shouts. “Ty! Come fix this!” He stomps his foot again. “Ty! This is escalation!”
“Case,” David says, stepping closer and putting one arm around Casey’s shoulders. “Does that make me John Kerry? Let’s not escalate anything.”
“I’m going to get him back for this!” Casey declares. “You’d better sleep with one eye open, Boobear!” he adds, in a loud voice.
“I’m scared!” Ty calls from down the hall.
“Do we have to?” David asks.
“This is full-scale warfare, David,” Casey says, shaking with barely contained rage. He shrugs David’s arm off his shoulders so he can start climbing on top of the kitchen counter to reach the ‘TOP SHELF’ bins, muttering to himself the whole time. “Who does that? Who puts just one thing in a bin? Not even his food!”
“Casey.” David steps closer. “Casey, c’mon. Let’s just go eat breakfast.”
Casey takes the ‘TOP SHELF’ bins down and puts them next to his feet on the counter before turning around to look down at David. “I’m just so mad!”
“It’ll be fine, Case. Let’s go eat.”
“I’m soooo mad,” Casey repeats. “I… think I might be too mad to climb down.”
David reaches his hand up towards Casey. “C’mon,” he repeats. “It’ll be better after coffee.”
“Nothing will be better until the bins are fixed,” Casey grumbles, but he does take David’s hand and allow David to help him down off the counter.
“Doughnuts for breakfast?” David suggests.
“We’ll eat them there,” Casey says. “And we won’t bring any back for Ty.”
Friday, January 9th, 2015: North Avenue South, Atlanta — Ty
Everything says Boobear. Well, Ty will admit, not everything; apparently no one was willing to write on his cup, and his laptop hasn’t been renamed to ‘Boobear’s Laptop’. There’s a paper luggage tag on both his bag for practice and his backpack, proclaiming they belong to ‘Boobear’, and that’s really just the tip of the iceberg.
Ty is moderately thankful that, aside from the jersey—his number, name ‘Boobear’—there wasn’t any extensive embroidery done on anything. There’s nothing even decorative about the labeling. It’s functional. And it says ‘Boobear’.
Mercedes is sympathetic for the first thirty seconds of the telephone call, then dissolves into giggles and promises Ty she’ll see him later that day. “Wear your new jersey, Boobear,” Mercedes says into the phone before ending the call, and Ty shakes his head a little. He takes a picture of the jersey, to show his mama later, then heads into the common area.
“I need detente,” Ty muses. “The threat of something worse than what I’m actually doing.”
“What’re you talking about, Boobear?” Coop asks.
“I’m Mikhail Gorbachev!” Ty says, pointing at Coop. “Which makes you… the Czech Republic or something.”
“So, I’ve got my own mix?”
“Not Chex, Czech!” Ty says, shaking his head. “Because Special K is obviously Poland. I gotta find a way for Casey to stop setting off the nukes.”
“Good luck with that,” Coop offers mildly. “I think I’m gonna go to the store and get the stuff to make Chex mix.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ty agrees. He goes back to his room and sits on the bed before an idea finally occurs to him, and he makes two phone calls before going into the living area to wait for Casey. When Casey arrives, Ty stands up and grins. “I hope you’re ready for it.”
“Ready for what?” Casey asks.
“Tomorrow,” Ty answers. “Be ready at 8:30.”
“Ready for what?” Casey repeats.
“I know you don’t want to disappoint my mama,” Ty warns.
Casey narrows his eyes. “It’s true. I don’t want to disappoint your mama. Disappoint her about what?”
“Seeing you, of course.” Ty grins. “8:30. Sharp.”
“AM or PM?”
“In the morning. Gotta start the day off right.” Ty grins again, goes to the refrigerator to get a Coke, and heads towards his room. “See you then, Casey.”
Saturday, January 10th, 2015: Windward Parkway, Alpharetta — Casey
“So, where are we going exactly?” Casey asks Ty as they exit from 400 onto Windward Parkway. “And don’t just saying meeting your mama. Specifics. I need specifics.”
“Oh, about that,” Ty says casually. “We’re not actually meeting my mama. We’re having a field trip to inspire detente.”
“That was not was I was told before I agreed to get in a car with you, Ty,” Casey says.
Ty shrugs. “I think it’s important to Special K’s future sanity that we have some Cold War–style dealings going on, Casey O’Brien.” He pulls into a shopping center and then parks. “Here we are!”
“Where is here?”
Ty gestures to the place he’s parked in front of with a wide grin. “Right here, Casey.”
Casey looks at the sign above the storefront. “Ty…”
“Braiding is a time-consuming process. You should observe it, and decide if you really want to try it yourself.”
“Ty!” Casey says, still staring at the Hair Addiction shop in front of them. “I already know I don’t want to try it!”
“You’ll be extra-sure after today then, I guess,” Ty says pleasantly. He waves suddenly. “Don’t I have the cutest nieces?”
“You didn’t!” Casey says under his breath, but even as he’s saying it, Shana and Kendra run up to the side of Ty’s car and tap on the window. Ty grins widely and rolls the window down, waving again.
“My friend Casey!” Shana shouts into the car, apparently thrilled. “Look, Kendra. Casey’s getting his hair done with mama!”
“No,” Casey says, his eyes widening as he shakes his head. “I’m not really getting my hair—”
“Which lady’s doing your hair, Casey?” Shana continues, ignoring Casey’s protests. “You can’t have Miss Donna, ’cause she does my mama’s hair. Maybe Miss Desiree, ’cause sometimes she does people’s hair. Sometimes she just sits at the counter and reads her books, though.”
“I don’t know what to say about that,” Casey says. He turns to Ty. “Did you tell them I was getting my hair braided?”
“I just said that you needed a good perspective on it to help you decide.” Ty unlocks the doors and gestures for Casey to get out. “Detente, Casey. It’s all about detente.”
“You can’t make me get braided,” Casey says.
“Come on, Casey!” Shana squeals. She grabs one of Casey’s hands, and Kendra grabs the others. “Mama said we had to come right back in.”
“Ty!” Casey says again. “Do something! Tell them I’m not getting braids!”
“I might not be able to make you get braided,” Ty agrees, “but I bet my nieces and my mama could.” He laughs. “I’ll be back later. Just enjoy watching.”
“I hate you,” Casey whispers.
“I’ll show you where Miss Desiree keeps the water,” Shana says. “And the candy bowl.”
Saturday, January 10th, 2015: North Avenue South, Atlanta — Dave
Dave couldn’t get a clear answer out of Ty earlier in the day, when he’d asked where, exactly, Casey had been taken. Dave does some research and works on a problem set before going into the common area to watch a movie with Danny. It’s late in the afternoon before Ty and Casey return, and Ty looks smug as he passes through on the way to his bedroom.
“Don’t say anything,” Casey says.
“Uh.” Dave looks helplessly at Danny, who looks like he wants to jump up and clap excitedly.
“Don’t,” Casey repeats. “Shana did it.”
“It’s so festive!” Danny blurts out. The multitude of braids with colored rubber bands does look strangely festive, though Dave decides not to agree with Danny out loud.
“Shana?” Dave echoes instead. “Like, Ty’s niece?”
“Yes,” Casey answers, sounding pitiful despite the spectacularly large scowl on his face.
“For someone who doesn’t like children,” Dave says slowly, “you’re very agreeable with their plans.”
“You try telling Shana no,” Casey answers sharply. “She doesn’t know that word. She’d just braid you anyway!”
Dave nods, trying not to laugh. “Well, okay.” He nods again. “So… is it over?”
Casey’s face settles into its stubborn look and his chin lifts slightly, but he doesn’t say anything.
“I’m going to get a Coke!” Danny announces before walking into the kitchen.
“Well?” Dave asks, still trying not to even smile.
“Help me unbraid it,” Casey says.
Dave nods and stands, starting down the hall to the bedroom. He waits until the door is shut and locked before he turns to Casey again. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
“Ty is the Soviet Union,” Casey says, sitting down on Dave’s bed and starting to remove rubber bands from his hair.
“Oh?”
“Never fight a land war in Asia, David,” Casey says soberly. “The movie was right.”
“And if I ever accidentally get elected President, I’ll remember that,” Dave assures him, taking out a few rubber bands himself.