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“Aaron, what is this?” Denny asks, turning the leathery thing over in his hands. Aaron shrugs, giggling through his mouth full of water.
“It’s a pig ear,” Zane supplies. Aaron spares him a glance, mostly because he hadn’t known either. Aaron had just found the weird looking thing on his floor one day and rolled with it.
Then, Zane’s eyes widen, and he falls silent. He wipes his palms along his shorts. Aaron tilts his head at Zane. He’d ask if Zane’s alright, but he doesn’t want to lose the game. He makes a mental note to ask Zane about it later. They’re going to Olive Garden later – incredibly romantic, he knows. No, it was Zane's idea, something about exposing Aaron to more terrible white people food. For “Culture”.
“Do you even have a pet?” Kevin asks.
Aaron pretends he can’t respond because of the water in his mouth. But now, his mind goes blank, the way it only ever does when he’s screwed. It’s fucking annoying – at any given moment, he’s got at least three trains of thoughts zigzagging and colliding, but as soon as he’s under pressure, all them screech to a stop.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
“You don’t even have a dog!” Kevin exclaims again. “Denny, he doesn’t have a dog!”
Zane is silent now, which is a smart strategy. Since he’s not in the direct line of fire, he can hunker down and hope the others don’t remember that Zane has a dog.
Aaron isn’t as lucky.
“He is the dog,” Denny quips and Kevin laughs. Aaron relaxes as the joke gets swept aside by the next item, and the video ends not too long after with a lot of spilt water.
Aaron stuffs the pig ear back into his bag, counts to sixty in his head, and then races out to the carpark. He’d seen Zane heading there, and the others are still milling about the studio.
“Hey, hey,” he says, catching up to Zane as he puts his bag from home in the trunk. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Zane says. But he looks up as he does, staring over Aaron’s head, and Aaron knows he’s making sure the others haven't left yet.
“Kind of your fault, if you think about it. How was I supposed to know you’d leave a pig ear at my house?”
Zane rolls his eyes and goes to whack the back of Aaron’s head. Aaron ducks, giggling, and he’s relieved when Zane smiles, finally.
“True,” Zane concedes, then he steps closer to Aaron. He shoots another glance to the door of the studio, then his hands graze Aaron's sides. He tries not to shiver as Zane swoops down to peck Aaron's lips. He pulls back, moustache lifting with his smile, and boops Aaron’s nose in mock admonishment. “But maybe don’t bring in stuff you don’t remember buying next time.”
“You just want me to lose. You’re a big fat cheater. Emphasis on the fat.”
“Alright.” Zane steps away and makes a face. “Moment ruined.”
“Nooo,” Aaron whines. “Come on, I’m sorry!”
“You can pay me back by buying me dinner.”
“That’s so not fair! Kevin pays you, like, a bazillion times more than me.”
“Not a word.”
“Your face is not a word.”
“I’m leaving!” Zane hollers, slamming his trunk shut and walking over to the driver’s side of the car. “No more childishness!”
“You love it!” Aaron calls after him, then strides over to his own car.
They always make sure to drive themselves to work, even after times when they’ve spent the night together. It’s easier this way.
That’s what Aaron tells himself anyway.
Because, well, they’re not actually dating. Because that would be too complicated. Or too soon. Or whatever.
Aaron doesn’t remember Zane’s excuse because he doesn’t care all that much.
Aaron makes faces at Zane’s car until it’s out of the car park. Then, his smile drops, and his forehead falls forward onto his steering wheel.
If sheer force of will could stop his racing heart, he'd collapse from a cardiac event. But, alas.
He groans again and slumps further, then jumps as the car lets out a loud, angry HONK!
Aaron has all of a second to regret his internal musing about cardiac events – if there was one thing he believed in more than star signs, it was cosmic karma – before a light tap-tap at his window makes him jump again.
“Relax,” he hears the muffled sound of Denny's voice saying. Aaron rolls his window down to scowl at him, especially when Denny leans in to rest his arms on the open window. “Having a forehead emergency in the parking lot, are you?”
“Are you looking for a lift or, you know, a lift?” Aaron quips, gesturing in the vague direction of Denny's shoes.
Denny quirks an eyebrow.
“Because–”
“I get the joke, A Boogie. Doesn't mean it's funny. Where's Herm's hand drawn void? You should've kept it.”
“And you should've kept your step stool with you. I can barely see you. Maybe if you were taller, you'd be nicer.”
Denny scoffs, incredulous. “Are you kidding? Herm's an asshole! It's got nothing to do with height, man.”
Aaron laughs, and then stops, annoyed. He doesn't want Denny to make him laugh right now.
“Now, come on, tell me, what's got you so bummed?” Denny pretends to think for a moment. “Beyond the bumming, I assume.”
Now it's Aaron's turn to pull a face. “Bumming? Ugh, Denny!”
“You're the one doing it! Or having it done to you? I don't know the proper use of the verb.”
“There is no proper use because it's not something people say!” Aaron insists. “Go away before I run you over.”
Denny withdraws from Aaron's window and walks in front of the car. He stops, gestures as if to say, Go on, then. When Aaron, through sheer determination and restraint alone, doesn’t hit Denny, he walks to his car.
“You won't even feel like a speed bump!” Aaron yells after him, revving his engine to prove his point.
~
“So, I have a theory,” Denny drawls as Aaron walks around with Kevin, examining the wrestling mat he’s going to be thrown onto. Their first wrestling episode was two seasons ago now, and enough time has passed that they can safely repeat it without upsetting the fans.
Aaron’s dressed up in an even more ridiculous outfit than last time, if that’s even possible. He had requested a cheetah theme and Zane had delivered, with spotted leotards and a cat mask over his face. He stopped short of putting on the cat tail, only because he doesn’t want any furry allegations. When Zane had shown Aaron the outfit, he’d been affronted, but honestly, he couldn’t wait for the video. He remembers the last one being extremely fun.
“What’s your theory?” Herm humours Denny.
“I think Aaron’s found love.”
“He better not have,” Kevin mutters, glasses on in what they refer to as director mode. He’s still not really paying attention, thinking about the set-up of the mats and how each wrestler will enter the shot. “Y’all are only allowed to find love on the show.”
From somewhere in the distance, Aaron thinks that that’s Zane, snorting.
“I think you should find your booster seat.”
“Ooo, nice deflection, A Boogie! That means I’m right, right?”
“You’re never right about anything.”
“Well, whatever, how ‘bout I tell you what I think?” Denny doesn’t wait for Aaron’s response. “I think that you’re dating someone. Someone with a dog, and someone that we all know.”
Thank God Aaron’s taken acting classes. He controls his expression, stifling down the incredulity/horror he feels rising within him. “What makes you think that?”
“Uhh, you mean, aside from the fucking dog toy?”
“Careful,” Herm warns, “‘cause there’s another explanation for that.”
That gets Kevin’s attention, and he starts cackling. “Oh my god, I forgot about that! I mean, look at how he’s dressed! It’s definitely a sexual thing, right?”
Aaron’s extremely grateful he didn’t wear the cat tail.
“That aside, did you see how weird Aaron got about it? He didn’t even know what it was! That’s because it’s his secret partner’s, and the only reason he’d keep them a secret is if we know them!”
“Or maybe because you guys are the worst people I know.”
“Hah! So you admit, there is someone!”
“No, there’s not,” Aaron says hotly.
“Positions!”
At Zane’s chastising, Denny, Herm and Kevin resume their seats. Aaron’s grateful for the interruption, though he shoots a glance at Zane. Was that too obvious a cover-up?
But then Denny mutters to himself, “I’m definitely right,” and that seems to be the end of it. Denny won’t admit it, but he has a begrudging respect for Producer-mode Zane, and he’ll always follow Zane’s directions without too much bitching.
“Give it up for Sally Slammer!” Kevin hollers, prompting Herm and Denny to drum-roll on the table. Aaron assumes his ready position – lowering his centre of gravity and embracing for impact.
“You’re going to the slammer!” Sally yells, which Aaron has half a second to think, That’s a corny ass catchphrase, before she’s slamming him into the mat.
Aaron rolls with the impact, but doesn’t fight her off. Part of their safety briefing was to move with the hits; it's riskier to try and dodge lest they get all competitive.
Sally helps Aaron up. Aaron claps her on the back, and she flexes once before striding off. Definitely real.
The last time they’d done this, the fake wrestler had been extremely obvious by the activity round. His outfit and posturing was believable, but going for the snake eyes was just crazy – especially when the others had hoisted Aaron around like a ragdoll. But Zane had said something about a martial artist being in the mix, so it shouldn't be so easy. Fingers crossed.
From the corner of his eye, Kevin leans back in his seat and whispers something to Denny. All Aaron hears is “forehead” and “extra cushioning”. Denny reaches for Kevin's shoulder around Trevor.
Kevin's smile is wide, but his eyes wander to the cameras every now and then, gaze fixed as if there's a small dial spinning inside his head.
“Your nose is a whole airbag then,” Aaron hollers at them.
Herm leans back in his chair. “Oh, that was good.”
“Emphasis on the air,” Denny adds, doing an exaggerated sniff.
“You wanna be up there?” Kevin snaps, gesturing at Aaron's spot, just as the next person comes in.
Stoneface runs straight for Aaron's midsection. Aaron adjusts himself, throwing himself forward into the tackle to make it look more dramatic. All the air in his body leaves him as he flies backwards, Stoneface pinning him onto the mat before hoisting him up around his shoulders. Aaron grabs onto his hands, trying not to giggle as he spins parallel to the ground, before being thrown back onto the mat.
“Argh!” Aaron cries out, flailing around like a fish out of water. He bangs his fist against the mat. “Mercy! Mercy!”
“Aaron, say your safe word!” Denny calls out, and Aaron laughs into the mat.
“Strawberry!”
“Woah–”
“The way he was so fast with that is crazy,” Kevin says.
“And specific,” Herm adds. “That's not your typical safeword.”
“And Herm would know! Herm's freaky like that!”
Aaron tilts his head at Denny, as do the other members of the panel. He looks across the set at Zane, and they smile at each other. Then Zane coughs into his hand and turns away.
Herm shakes a crooked finger at Denny. “Never say shit like that again.”
Their joking is cut short by the next wrestler shouting, “Hide your axes, Lizzie B’s here to whack ya!”
“Whack?” Denny does a crude gesture, which Aaron has a second to laugh at.
Then Lizzie's grabbing Aaron's hand and putting it on her shoulder. Aaron realises what the move is too late and over-corrects. He twists with Lizzie, letting her throw him over her shoulder, but he’s coming down wrong, he's coming down too fast and he needs to tuck his head–
“Aaron!”
He glanced off the side of the mat and his neck flings backwards. The back of his head smashes against white concrete.
Pain flares everywhere, all at once. The rest of him slides off the mat, and he tries to curl around himself. More pain.
A hand brushes his side. Aaron whimpers.
He hears the squeak of sneakers racing over to him. The light behind his eyelids dims as someone leans over him.
“Aaron? A Boogie–
“Stop! Don't move him!”
That's Zane's voice. That's Zane's voice, but it's wrong. He's too firm. Too serious. Almost angry. All things Aaron has heard before, but only ever with an undercurrent of humour.
There's no humour now.
More sneakers. Like thunderclaps, the vibrations rattle Aaron's tender skull.
“Is it– Aaron, can you hear me?” That's Kevin.
Aaron grumbles something. “Mmkay.” Then, “‘urts.”
More darkness. A presence next to his head. Cool fingers at his cheek. Zane, again.
Aaron tries to lean into it. His body protests, and he lets out a little moan. Suddenly, without his permission, a sob breaks through his lips. It hurts so fucking bad.
“Zay- nuh.”
The hand at his cheek retracts then flips. The back of his fingers brush very gently against Aaron's cheek.
“Shh, it's okay, I got you. We're gonna get you some help, okay?” Zane still sounds all wrong.
Aaron's brows furrow. “Sca’duh?”
“You're scared?”
“No,” Aaron huffs. The syllable is lost. Blindly he tries to reach towards Zane. That's too much, so he raises a finger, and lifts it off the ground in Zane's general direction.
Kevin's on the phone in the background. Giving the address, asking Herm questions who relays them to Zane. Aaron's not sure where Denny is in all of this.
“A little,” Zane murmurs. He gently presses Aaron's finger back to the floor and curls his hand around Aaron's. His grip is feather-light and shaking. “But you're gonna be fine.”
“‘Course.”
They fall silent again.
Someone else reaches for his other hand. This one is firmer.
“Kev says to keep your eyes open,” Denny whispers.
Aaron whimpers again.
Both hands tighten.
“C'mon, A Boogie. Let us see those whites.”
Through the searing pain, Aaron is almost delirious enough to laugh. He blinks his eyes open and groans as the bright light intensifies the pounding in his head. It takes a few tries before he can lock onto anything tangible.
Denny is the first face he sees, leaning over him to block the light. “There we go,” he says, relieved, before he goes back to frowning. Denny looks behind himself and shouts, “Eyes are open!”
Herm relays it to Kevin, who must now be outside.
Aaron winces. Denny gives him another grin, but it's not convincing. His eyes flick over Aaron's head.
Aaron rolls his eyes that way with great effort. He doesn't want to risk moving his neck – his whole body is blasting warning signs that something is wrong. Zane is on the other side of him, but he's not looking at Aaron.
Zane's chin grazes his shoulder, tucked slightly into himself. Aaron can't see his eyes.
Aaron tries to spot what Zane's looking at, but there's no one there.
And his shoulders are shaking.
Aaron tries to reach for him again. Tries to say something, but can't. His tongue weighs heavily against the floor of his mouth.
“Keep them eyes open, A Boogie.”
At some point, the paramedics come, and he gets rolled onto a stretcher. Aaron feels very far away from himself as this all happens, and answers their questions without really knowing what he's saying. It's like none of it is being saved to his memory – as soon as the action is completed, it's gone.
But there's one constant. A thought that rattles around over and over.
Zane's sad, and Aaron can't have that.
~
He's on sooo many drugs when they come to see him. Like, fentanyl-drip level. Like, he's gonna become a drug dealer but to access it, people just have to exchange blood with him.
“That's disgusting, A Boogie.”
“Youuu think I'm funnyyy,” Aaron accuses, head lolling against his pillow.
“Yeah, and you're high.” Denny smiles anyway. He hasn't stopped smiling since he burst into Aaron's room, the others trailing behind him.
Aaron guffaws. “Sooo fucking high, dawg.”
Denny bursts out laughing again, slapping both palms against his knees and rocking forward.
Herm and Kevin seem to be taking Aaron's recovery in a more measured way, both clearly relieved but not as giddy as Denny. Kevin keeps looking at the beeping machine next to Aaron's bed, and Herm looks uncomfortable in hospital settings.
Denny's euphoric relief makes Aaron feel a little guilty. Aaron hadn't let anyone see him for a few days, even after the surgery. He doesn't think anyone would like to see him like that – that, and his filter was nonexistent.
And then there's Zane.
He hasn't sat down, and he only looks at Aaron when Aaron's gaze wanders away. Aaron hates it.
“Hey,” he whispers, getting Zane's attention. He raises his wrist up, gesturing at his I.V. “I'll let you have some if you cheer up.”
“Aaron Branch,” Denny mutters, astonished.
Herm and Kevin's mouths hinge wide open.
“That’s fucked up,” Herm says, though he looks amused.
Zane turns his back. The room falls silent. Herm raises his eyebrows and looks at the floor, letting out a breath. Denny and Kevin twist to look at him, then at each other, half-smiles frozen in such a way when they don't know how to react to something.
Aaron rolls his eyes.
“Aaron,” Denny hisses, though he's still smiling.
“Zay-nuh! Tell them you're fine,” Aaron fusses. He wishes he had enough strength to throw himself against the pillows. Damn fractured collarbone and concussion.
Zane turns back to face them. He looks angry, but his shoulders are shaking with barely suppressed laughter. “Stop it!” he scolds. “Stop it, I am upset and I don't like it when you make me laugh.”
“Was it the fentanyl joke? Was it in poor taste? Since, you know, you were more into coke and heroin–”
“Oh my god.” Kevin buries his head in his hands.
But Aaron's cracked him now. Zane's lips are twitching.
“Or is it the format? Maybe I'll ask the nurses for some pills. Those are probably easier on the body, right, Zane?”
Zane huffs and leaves his post by the window. Aaron continues babbling, even when Zane kneels down beside him.
“Your veins are probably shot, anyway. We wouldn't be able to get a good insertion. What with the cholesterol, too.”
Zane crosses his arms beside Aaron’s lap and rests his head on them, groaning into them. His curls brush Aaron's left hand. They're not as tight and as well-maintained as they usually are. They look flat and dry.
Aaron gives Zane's head a scratch, smiling down at him.
Got ya.
He moves his hand to Zane's back and rubs small circles there as he turns his attention back to the others.
“I think you should still post it, KL.”
“Dude, no way.”
“Uh, yeah way. Do you want to hit ten mill or not? You could pretend I died. People love drama.”
“Except for the fact that we all thought you were actually gonna die,” Herm points out. “That wasn't very funny.”
“Drama queens.”
There's a beat of silence, and then Denny snorts. Kevin and Herm look exasperated. And all four have a palpable worry to them.
“I really am fine, guys,” Aaron says to the room. “And, for what it's worth, I'm pretty sure Lizzie was the martial artist.”
Zane's muscles stiffen under Aaron's hand.
“Hey,” he says, leaning forward as much as he can. He's still much further away from Zane than he'd like to be. “What's wrong?”
Zane doesn't respond. Aaron moves his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck.
“Film the epilogue right now. I'll tell everyone I'm fine and that this was all my idea, anyway.”
“It wasn't, though,” comes a muffled protest.
“Uh, yeah, it was. I even pitched the outfit and everything. Stop trying to take credit for my ideas, you're just as bad as Denny!”
“I didn't even do nothing!” Denny protests. Aaron hushes him.
Aaron prods the lump of sadness in the back of his neck. Zane's hand comes up to bat him away, but he still doesn't raise his head.
“He feels guilty, I think,” Kevin says eventually. Aaron squints at him.
“...For what?”
Denny raises one brow and gestures at Aaron's cast or at his hospital gown or at the rest of his - temporarily - injured body.
“I think he should feel guilty,” Denny adds helpfully, before Kevin and Herm promptly scold him.
Aaron considers it for a moment. Zane had been so excited when he let it slip about the martial artist. Aaron liked the idea, and he's pretty sure martial artists are supposed to know safe technique anyway. But, if you're as self-punishing as Zane tends to be, maybe Aaron can understand what Zane's been feeling ever since Aaron hit the ground.
“I'm not gonna sue you. You'd probably win that battle.”
“Why?” Zane says, still muffled. Aaron weasels his hand under Zane's head to grab one of Zane's hands, out of sight of the others. “‘Cause I'm Jewish? Because that’s–”
“Because it's Denny's fault.”
Zane rolls his head to look up at Aaron. Beneath him still, out of sight from the others, Zane squeezes Aaron's hand.
“How the fuck is this my fault?” Denny bursts out, incredulous. “Zane casted the video!”
“Zane casted the last one too, and I was fine.”
“So?!”
“So, the only difference was that you distracted me by making a handjob joke!”
Denny splutters. “That's bullshit! You just don't want Zane to feel guilty even though it's entirely his fault because you're, like, his pet fucking dog or some shit–”
“Oh, are we acknowledging it now?” Herm says. “‘Cause I've been waiting–”
“Ah! Ah!” Kevin makes a cutting gesture across his throat.
“Acknowledging what?”
Denny curls his finger back into a fist and grimaces. He settles back into his chair.
If there was a camera, Herm looks like he'd be staring into it right now. Kevin is looking pointedly at the ceiling.
“Zane?”
Zane blinks up at him. He pulls a face, and then sighs as he rises up onto his knees. He doesn’t let go of Aaron's hand, even though now it's visible to the rest of the room.
Aaron giggles, nervous, and eyes them all.
“You were kind of… saying stuff. In the ambulance.”
Denny lets out a disbelieving snort. “Right, because Zane losing his shit wasn't obvious. No, it was Aaron's concussed ass, sure.”
“I didn't lose my shit!”
“I'm not gonna lie,” Herm starts, “I thought he was gonna beat up poor Lizzie. He almost knocked Denny out when he tried to touch you, Aaron.”
“That's, like, rule fucking one of a neck injury!” Zane protests. “You don't move someone! Kevin, back me up on this! You've got first aid training!”
“Look, Zane's right–”
“See?!”
“-but I thought we all figured that shit out last shoot.” Kevin looks around at all of them. “Um, the fucking pig ear?”
Realisation dawns on Denny and Herm's faces at once.
“Who else do you know that gets those weird things for their dogs?”
“You're supposed to give your dog things like that, it's good for them–”
“I knew it was a sexual thing!”
Aaron can't help it. At Denny's exclamation, he breaks into a fit of giggles. “Oh, my fucking ribs hurt so bad, fuck all of you–”
“Now look what you've done,” Zane chastises. He heaves himself to his feet (Denny: “Did you hear his knees crack?”) and pulls over a chair next to Aaron’s bed. He grazes his knuckles over Aaron's cheek, and Aaron's giggles subside.
He blinks up at Zane, and is only vaguely conscious of the fact that he's smiling dumbly.
The door opens again, and in comes a doctor looking vaguely annoyed at everyone in the room.
“Wassup, doc?” Aaron chirps.
“Hood Bugs Bunny,” Herm murmurs.
“You're so stupid,” Kevin whispers back.
The doctor looks down at Aaron, all beady eyed. “Discharge orders, as requested. But you need someone to help you these next few weeks until physio clears you. It says here you live alone?”
“I got it,” Zane and Denny say at the same time.
Aaron giggles to himself. At his subsequent wince, Herm and Kevin stifle their laughs.
Both Zane and Denny stare at each other, bewildered.
“You got him injured,” Denny accuses.
“Um, not true! Aaron said it was your fault!”
“Because you've been moping around all week ever since he got injured. He knows that I know the truth! I'm his oldest friend here!”
“And I'm his boyfriend, I medically take priority!”
“Not necessarily,” the doctor corrects. “Unless you're married.”
“Hah!” Denny points and laughs. Then, he turns to Aaron, and Aaron’s befuddled brain is too slow to correct his expression. “Why the fuck does this look like news to you?”
“Uh…”
“Look at Zane!” Kevin says, elbowing both Herm and Denny in the process. “He's so guilty looking!”
“I just– I mean, I figured–”
“No, like, I'm thrilled, I just thought you didn't want to–”
“Enough of this gay shit!” Denny exclaims, jumping to his feet. “Zane's on his third divorce, his love doesn't mean shit. Denny Love is forever!”
“That was good,” Kevin says. Aaron nods, but Herm and Zane make a noise of disagreement.
“Denzel, that was the corniest shit you've ever said.”
“No, you're right, I felt that. Aaron, you decide.”
“Fellas, fellas, there's enough of me to go around, no need to fight.” Aaron strokes his chin and bites his lip.
Denny and Zane look at each other. There's a beat.
“You can have him,” they say, perfectly in sync.
By the time they wheel him out of the hospital, Aaron's ribs ache.