Work Text:
Daniel didn't have high hopes for his romantic life when he moved to Texas. In fact, they were pretty much dashed to bits the moment he crossed state lines. Texas wasn’t exactly a progressive paradise, and Daniel... well, he lived a progressive life. A boy who liked other boys.
That changed when he got to work, though. There was this cute guy who he worked with. His name was Dante. (Daniel hadn’t believed him at first. After all, what unforgiving parent would name their child Dante?)
But it turned out to be the poor guys actual name. Not that Daniel cared much; it was actually sort of neat, unlike Daniel. And he was clearly interested in him; he had this way of hanging around him at work, this sparkle in his eye.
The problem was, he had a friend. The first time this friend came up, Daniel didn’t think much of it.
“Do you want to do something after work?” Daniel had asked, one day.
Dante smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I can’t… I’m hanging out with my friend tonight.”
Daniel cocked his head. “Anything exciting on the agenda?”
“Probably not. We might just kick it with his dog. I love his dog.”
“Fun,” Daniel replied, bored of the discussion already. He was a cat person, anyway.
The second time this friend came up, he became curious.
They were both on break, passing around a joint. He was trying not to laugh at Dante’s obvious inexperience with it; he kept wrinkling his nose and trying not to cough. “Is this pot?”
“Yep,” he said, popping the p. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” said Dante quickly. “I’m just wondering where you get pot in this little town.”
“Why are you asking? Looking to find a dealer?”
“No, I just thought it would be fun to try with a friend.”
Daniel smirked. “Are you saying we’re not friends? I’m insulted.”
“You know what I mean, asshat.”
“Would this be the same friend you hung out with the other day?” he asked, half because he wanted to know and half because he didn’t know what else to say.
“Yeah, Ari’s my best friend. He’s never done any sort of drug as far as I know … but I only know how to get high in Chicago.”
“Ah, Ari… the one with the dog.”
“That one.”
“I’m a cat person, myself.”
Dante laughed. “You wouldn’t be if you knew Legs.”
“I’m starting to think you live in a community of people who love weird names. First, it’s Dante. Then, it’s a dude named “Ari,” which I’m pretty sure is a girl name. And then there’s a dog named Legs.”
A sour expression comes onto his face, and Daniel thinks he’s offended him. But before he can say anything, the expression is gone, replaced with Dante’s usual good-natured smile. (He can tell he’s still mad at him, though.)
“To be fair, his name isn’t really Ari; it’s Aristotle.”
“You’re shitting me. You are actually shitting me.”
“I’m not!”
“I thank God everyday that I don’t have that kid’s parents.” Daniel shakes his head. “I suppose you’ll tell me the dog’s name is short for Legislative Assistant or something.”
“No, Legs is named Legs because Ari got him the day he was able to walk again.” Before Daniel can ask, Dante launches into a story about a baby bird and a car crash.
Now, he’s legitimately curious. Who was this kid?
The third time Dante mentioned Ari, Daniel started to understand.
Or, rather, the third time Dante mentioned him and the first time Daniel saw him.
They were both working. It was almost time for him for his shift to end, but he decided to hang around until Dante finished too. After all, he was really cute.
A big red pickup truck pulled into the lot. Daniel, a fan of old cars himself, couldn't help but whistle. “Now that’s a ride.”
Dante glanced up and immediately brightened at the sight of the truck. “Hey, it’s Ari!”
Daniel pretended to leave in a hurry, then hid behind a row of shelves. It sounded creepier than it was. He wasn't not trying to spy or anything. He was just curious about this guy that Dante spent so much time around.
A good-looking teenage guy walked in, who he assumes is Ari. His first thought is; Good thing he’s not gay. Because if he was, Dante wouldn’t be wasting his time with Daniel. Ari was built, but not to the point that it’s ridiculous, and he had a subtly-exotic look to him, with long dark hair and Spanish skin.
There was no trace of the dog, though, which was disappointing.
He turned his attention back to Aristotle and Dante's conversation. They appeared to be mad at each other for some reason. He made out something about “rules” but nothing else. Dante reached for Ari, who ducked away, and said something over his shoulder before walking away.
Dante was left standing there at the register. He looked confused and angry, naturally, but beneath that, he looked hurt. So, so hurt. And sad.
And suddenly, Daniel couldn't help but think that it didn't matter that Aristotle wasn't gay. It didn't seem to make a difference to Dante as he stood there staring at the pickup truck backing out of the parking lot, a world of apology in his eyes.
The fourth time Dante mentioned Ari, he knew for sure.
They were just hanging out, like they sometimes do after work. Dante was thanking him for the millionth time for giving him some pot. Daniel didn't feel like it’s a big deal. What’s a bit of pot between friends?
“-was so much fun, the only thing we were wearing was our tennis shoes-”
“Wait, you were naked with that guy?”
“I was high, give me a break,” he said. “Anyway, it was to be funny. I hate shoes.”
“Whatever happened to him not liking guys?”
“He doesn’t,” said Dante. Maybe it’s only Daniel, but he sounded a bit sad about that. “It was just for fun.”
“Yeah, because every guy gets naked with their best friend for fun.”
“He’s not like us, okay? I don’t even like him in that way.”
Daniel let the subject drop, but deep down, he thought; “Yes, but do you love him?”
Despite the obvious affection Dante has for his friend, they don’t talk about him much. In fact, he purposely dodged the subject whenever he can.
Because of this, he soon stopped thinking about it. This is what lead to them making out in an alley in the setting sun.
They’re both getting pretty into it. Daniel has probably kissed more boys than Dante has, but he’s still a good kisser. Daniel has him pressed against the brick wall of the factory next to them, making small keening noises.
A voice breaks the spell. “Hey, check out the fags!”
Dante swears under his breath. They’re so screwed. Daniel steps away from the other boy as if he’s on fire, but it’s too late. They’ve already been spotted.
“C’mon,” he says, pulling on Dante’s arm. Dante doesn’t follow him.
A group of boys, maybe four or five, start to surround them. He looks over at Dante, who doesn’t appear like he’s going to move. Or, thinks Daniel, like he’s any good in a fight.
Without a second thought, Daniel takes off running. He hears the jeers and taunts behind him, but he doesn’t care. “Run, faggot! Leave your boyfriend!”
He knows that if he were to look, he’d see Dante looking betrayed. He doesn’t look.
He also doesn’t tell anybody. What if they told his parents or his classmates, and then everyone knew he had kissed a boy? That wasn’t an option.
All he does is hope that Dante is stronger than he looks.
However, he regrets this decision exactly two days later. By the time he's stopped thinking about it, a very angry - and very familiar - young man storms into the drugstore. He can’t remember how he knows him.
That is, until he says, “I’m Ari. I’m Dante’s friend.”
“I know,” he says. His heart is beating fast, and he’s feeling panicky. This guy looks like he means business.
“I think you should take a break.” Says Ari. Daniel tries to object, only to be cut off. “I’m going to go outside and wait for you. I’m going to wait for exactly five minutes. And if you’re not out of there in five minutes, then I’m going to walk back inside this drugstore and kick your fucking ass in front of the whole world.”
“I-”
“And if you don’t think I’ll do it, you better look into my eyes and study them.” With that, he walks out the door purposefully, leaving Daniel a nervous wreck.
He can’t really run for it. He still has an hour in his shift. Plus, Ari will find him sooner or later; he’s 99% sure he goes to school with him. He’d rather have his ass kicked in the parking lot of a drugstore than in a school hallway.
He’s waiting for Daniel when he leaves the store. Dread curls fiercely in his stomach. He’d almost prefer getting beaten up by the gang of guys. None of them look as vicious as Aristotle does currently.
“Let’s walk,” he says. Daniel follows him. They don’t go far. “Dante’s in the hospital.”
Guilt hits him, but not as much as it should. He’s more worried. What if Dante spills the beans and tells people why he got beat up in the first place? “Oh.”
“Oh?”
“You haven’t gone to visit. Don’t you have anything to say, you asshole?”
Daniel looks up, incredulous. “What do you want me to say?”
“You bastard,” says Ari. “You don’t feel anything?”
He’s shaking like a leaf, at this point. Dante always spoke of Aristotle as if he were a saint. Maybe he was, in Dante’s eyes; he had no doubt in his mind that Ari could do no harm as far as Dante could tell. He was so whipped. But this guy was certainly not a saint. He was big, and angry, and frightening. Daniel keeps shaking.
“Who were they?” he asks in that rough tone of his. The tone that implies that he knows how to hide a body.
“W-what are you talking about?”
“Don’t screw with me, asshole.”
But Daniel can’t tell him, if he tells him, they’ll come for him. And if they come for him, everyone will know, everyone will know he kisses boys, and if everyone knows he kisses boys, he’ll end up in the hospital like Dante. He’s so afraid of being hurt.
Dante is brave, but Daniel isn’t. He’s so afraid.
“You won’t tell anyone.”
Suddenly, he’s pulled in close to Ari’s face by his collar. It feels as if he’s choking. “Dante’s lying in a hospital and the only thing you’re worried about is who I’m going to tell?! Who am I going to tell, asshole. Just tell me who they were.”
“I don’t know!”
“Bullshit. You tell me now and I won’t kick your ass from here to the South Pole.”
Daniel gulps. The look on his face says that he means business.
“I don’t know all of them. There were four guys.”
“All I need is one name,” hisses Aristotle, fire in his eyes. “Just one. ”
So Daniel tells him. He tells him about how Dante wouldn’t run, and how it was Julian Enriquez and Joe Moncada.
What he doesn’t tell him is how scared he is. It’s pretty obvious, anyhow.
He never does get beaten up. Ari just shoves him against the wall of the drugstore and peels out of the parking lot in his cherry red truck, as if he didn’t just scare Daniel more than he’s ever been scared before.
Daniel isn’t sure why he apologizes. Part of him wants to believe it’s only because he’s genuinely sorry. And he is! He feels bad for leaving Dante alone. But another part of him just doesn’t want Aristotle coming after him again.
When he knocks on the Quintana’s door, they almost slam it in his face. His mother looks especially violent. For a moment, he thinks he’s made a horrible mistake. Then Mr. Quintana waves him in, apologizing for the rude welcome. “He’s here to apologize to Dante, honey,” he hears the man whisper to his wife. “Let him do his explaining. Dante needs this.”
He marches up the stairs to where he assumes Dante’s room is. When he walks in, he tries to look as guilty as possible.
Dante doesn’t look good. His face is bruised and cut in places a face shouldn’t be bruised and cut, and he has crutches propped up against his bed. When he sees Daniel, he tries to jump to his feet, then winces and puts a hand over his (broken?) ribs.
“What are you doing here?” he asjs, venomously. He doesn’t sound nearly as scary as his best friend or mother. Dante’s not the type of boy who is meant to be scary. It’s Daniel’s favourite thing about him.
“I’m here to apologize,” he says.
“Then go ahead.” His voice is not so angry anymore, but still frosty.
“Uh- well, I’m sorry. Like, really sorry. It wasn’t cool of me to leave you like that.”
Dante looks unimpressed.
“And I promise not to do it again.”
“No shit, Sherlock. We’re never repeating the experience.”
Daniel almost says, Who would want to kiss you with your face like that, anyway? But it sounds mean. Is he mean? He feels mean.
He feels spiteful. It’s Dante who’s hurt, and yet he feels spiteful.
“I think it upset Ari.”
Daniel visibly freezes at Ari’s name. Dante doesn’t ask. Maybe he already knows.
It always comes back to that guy with Dante, he thinks. It upset Ari , the straight boy who almost beat me to a pulp the other day. But God forbid anything upsets him.
“Whatever, I get it,” he says. “Are we cool?”
Dante smiles, and it makes his whole face look less cut up. “Yeah. We’re cool.”
“Good.” He replies.
“I could use some more friends, anyway,” says Dante. “Currently, my only friend is the guy who is possibly grounded. He beat up one of the guys who jumped me pretty badly, and I think his parents are angry.”
“Well, they deserved it,” says Daniel.
“They did,” agrees Dante. “I’m just sad that it couldn’t be me who beat them up.”
“I’ll probably never be able to face them, just so you know, Dante,” he says quietly. “If you’re hoping I’ll do something like that… well, I won’t. I’m a scaredy-cat. I’m not as good a friend.”
Dante nods. “Neither would I. I’m not that fearless.” He pauses. Under his breath, so quietly Daniel can barely hear it, he says, “Ari is the only one that is.”
We agree to disagree on the wonderfulness of this guy, thinks Daniel. I, personally, have something against anyone who tries to beat my face in.
They talk for a few more minutes before Daniel decides to hit the road. “Bye! See you around!” Calls Dante from the living room.
“Bye! Get better soon, by the way. I’m tired of having to work both our shifts at the drugstore.”
He turns to leave, but not before he hears Mr. Quintana say, “Ari stopped by. We told him he could go upstairs, but he didn’t want to.”
“Ari came by?” asks Dante. “Why didn’t you get him to stay?”
“I don’t know, Dante,” says Mrs. Quintana. “He didn’t seem like he was in the mood.”
Hmm, Daniel thinks. Maybe this guy isn’t nearly as straight as I thought.
They hang out a bit more, mostly at work. And while Dante’s nice and all, he can’t help being jealous of Ari. It’s not as if he even likes Dante that much; what grates on him is more the fact that Dante doesn’t like him.
One day, while they’re hanging out, he tells Dante that he doesn’t want to talk about Ari. “I hate to break it to you, bud, but that guy is an asshole.” He says. “What kind of person threatens to ‘kick someone’s ass from here to the South Pole’- he makes his voice deep in an attempt to imitate him - “just because they ran from a fight?”
He personally thought his impression was pretty funny, but Dante seems to disagree. As in, more than he’s ever seen Dante disagree with something. His eyes narrow, and underneath the navy blue polo shirt, his shoulders tense.
“I think you calling him an asshole is rich,” he says, with a forced laugh. Daniel laughs along, but inside, he’s angry. Is it assholery, not wanting to get beaten up? Daniel doesn't think so.
They go on being friends, but something has changed, and Daniel really doesn’t care when Dante stops calling him.
He knows Dante well enough, at this point, to know that he was only a replacement for his precious Ari.
And truly, he hopes they are happy together. He hopes Dante learns not to trust boys who can’t control their tempers. And he hopes Aristotle Mendoza goes to hell.