Chapter Text
It's quite a stupid rule.
Hannah is only allowed to date when her younger brother ALSO dates. She can't resent him for it, because it's all their father's fault. So when she goes and falls in love with this handsome guy in her PE class, who fits her type in all ways, she is on her knees in front of Coy, her brother, begging him to consider dating anyone in their school.
"Why the fuck would I date anyone in our school for your sake? They all disgust me anyway. Except Will, you know, cause he's cool." Coy says with his arms and legs crossed, looking down at his older sister, who was pouting profusely at him.
Her hands claw at his legs, "Coy! You can't be serious! What about- What about Colt? You like Colt!"
"Who?" Coy's eyebrows raise.
"Calculus!"
Coy makes a face and shakes his head, "He scratches his balls every second, sure, he might be hung, but I have standards, Bonnie." He holds out his hands in defense and cocks his head. "Go and make dad change his mind about the dating rule if you're so desperate to date that loser from PE."
Hannah gasps and stands up, "He is NOT a loser. Actually, I don't even know why I bothered to beg in front of you. You wouldn't know love if it showed up on your front door." With that, she makes her way out of his sight and into her room. Coy can't help but roll his eyes and close the door to his room, which they had been standing in front of.
"I just don't understand him at all. He comes out as gay at 11 years old, then goes the next 6 years single. He's not dated at all, which means I haven't dated at all in my life. He's not even thought about dating, I mean, what if he's aromantic asexual, then what the hell am I supposed to do?" Hannah rants to Will the next day at school.
William Wahony was both her and Coy's mutual friend, who had to endure all the gossip between them. He was leaning back against the bench they were on, and was monitoring a bird that was sitting on the fence in front of them.
"Are you listening to me?"
Will looks back at her, "I am, it just gets really tiring when it's the same damn thing you keep yapping about." His leg, which had been resting on his thigh, shoots out and lands on the ground as he leans forward on his elbows, "Oh, Coy isn't dating, and now I'm in love again, oh boohoo Will, help me." He rubs his palms into his face a few times before putting them down, looking at Hannah, "Why don't you just get someone to pursue Coy? I bet he's the type who wants to be pursued rather than chase."
Hannah holds out her hands in a way to balance herself, even though she's sitting completely still. Her head turns to the other, "Will. You might be a genius."
"Duh."
A smile breaks out on her face before it drops again, "Who would even agree to it?"
Will sits back against the bench and closes his eyes, thinking hard. A moment passes where they both think hard about who would agree to this arrangement. It's Will who pokes the other in her side, "What about Anthony Poop?"
"Who?"
"Pooptero."
Hannah punches the other, "You know we aren't friends with him because you keep calling him Poop."
Will can't help the smile that breaks out on his face, pushing back against the other's punches, "He's a loner, right? Coy won't suspect that we even know the guy."
"He hates us, he won't agree to it." Hannah shoves her palms against her eyes as she leans back.
"He wants to go to Harvard, last I heard. Promise him that your father will write him a recommendation letter, or I don't know, HanBon— BRIBE HIM?" Will's arms go around the back of the bench as he slowly stretches his shoulders. A pop is heard.
Hannah bites her lip and looks at Will, determined, "I'll talk to him after school. Anthony, that is."
Biting his nails has always been a bad habit of his. But it's become something soothing that he can't let go of. He's tried the serum you can put on your nails, but he got used to the bad taste that it stopped working.
Exams like these always make him even more nervous than he would be otherwise, mostly because it's the one teacher who he knows has something against him. He really doesn't know why, but she was always handing out worse grades to him, and he knows that he got at least 80% correct. He should report it to the principal, but there's this one thing holding him back. The fact that the principal's children are some of the most annoying people he's ever met, and even talking to him would make them, Hannah and Coy, have more blackmail against him.
Anthony isn't much of a people person, so avoiding them is rather easy. Avoiding their shared best friend is not.
"What are you doing after school?" Will slings an arm around his shoulder as he walks to his locker to put away his notes. Anthony closes his eyes and does a brief meditation to ease his frustration. "C'mon, Pooptero, we're friends, right?"
"We certainly are not." Anthony stops in front of his locker and punches in the code to the rather modern locker. He slams his notes into the top shelf and grabs his backpack, rips himself away from the others' arms, and slings his backpack behind him as he starts walking out of the school.
Will follows behind, "Hannah needs to talk to you." Anthony halts. He feels his teeth with his tongue and looks back at Will, "It's an offer."
It's not that he hates the two siblings. He likes them as much as he likes anyone in this school, which means that he dislikes them. Being called a loner—a loser, it doesn't hit him as hard anymore as it did before. He had friends back in middle school before he moved schools. Before he lost his mother. Before everything changed.
So, he agrees to meet with Hannah. Inside the art room, where painting racks stand with empty paintings on them, ready for tomorrow. Hannah sits on the teacher's chair, turning in it until the door shuts behind him.
Their eyes meet from across the room, "What do you want?"
"I want to make a deal."
"What are you, the devil?" He deadpans. "Shoot."
Hannah stands, then walks over to him in a slight skip, and stands in front of him, "Anthony, I want you to date my brother."
He turns to leave, but Hannah grabs his arm, so he turns quickly, and Hannah backs off of him, "You want me to date your brother? Are you hearing yourself right now? Why would I do that? I barely know him, he doesn't interest me, and it's frankly a waste of my time."
"I'll give you 100 dollars."
"I don't care for your money." He lies through his teeth. He's been working part-time to pay for his dorm and to buy himself food, saving up for his future at Harvard, which he aims to get into. "If you want to bribe someone, bribe Colt, at least he's someone Coy would be interested in."
Hannah looks around before she sighs, "I can make my dad write a recommendation letter to Harvard in your name, how's that?" His finger twitches at the mention of that. He is stunned. So Hannah continues, "Look, Anthony. Could I have asked any guy at school to do this one thing? Yes. But there's something about you, it's a perfect match for my brother."
"It's because I'm queer, right? I'm the only other known queer guy at school you know of."
She shakes her head and crosses her arms, "What? No. Of course not. There are other reasons. Like—Like—You're probably kind and considerate."
Probably. She doesn't even know him enough to know if he's kind. "Why do you want me to date him? Are you some sort of matchmaker?"
Hannah looks out of the window, "I want to date this one guy I met in PE class. And to do that, my brother has to date too. It's a stupid rule that my father made up. So—" She looks back at him, "Please do this one thing for me."
He looks around the room and runs his fingers through his hair, looking down at the ground. Then, with a what-the-hell-why-not face, he looks up at her, "A recommendation letter and a 50-dollar gift card to Dominos."
Going to class shouldn't be a problem, but the fact that Hannah has been acting all happy this morning makes him uneasy. It was only yesterday that she was sobbing in front of him, begging him to date someone so she could go date that Jake guy from PE. So when she broke into song at 6 AM in his room, and didn't leave him alone until they parted ways to their respective classes, he couldn't help but feel a little like he wasn't in on a joke that other's were.
He brushes it off because that's the only thing he can do in this situation. And then he sits down at his usual desk. 2nd last row, beside the windows. The teacher is writing on the board, her back turned, while people hurry into the room. His head hits his arm that's lying on the table, and he sighs.
"Is this seat taken?"
He raises his head and stares at someone he hasn't thought of in a long time. Anthony stares at him with anticipating eyes and a soft, awkward smile. His backpack hangs off his shoulder, and his hand is on the seat beside him, leaning against it slightly. Coy blinks and shrugs, "Seat's all yours." He returns to his position, head down in his arm, a sigh on his lips, ears clear and ready to listen when the teacher starts the lesson.
The sound of the chair scraping against the floor is hard to miss, as it makes a loud screeching noise. He cracks his pointer knuckle and sits up when the teacher starts taking attendance.
His eyes glance to the boy beside him when Anthony is the first to get his name called. It's not like the two of them are complete strangers; he's known about the guy for a long time, ever since the guy transferred, that is. Anthony was someone that people could easily miss if they weren't actively looking for him, and trust him. Coy was not interested in the slightest. His sister and Will had made fun of the poor guy, all because of his last name. It wasn't bullying, but it wasn't nice either to do that to a new transfer student who barely knew anyone. He had been the person who had shown Anthony around, all because he was the principal's son, and if he did it, he, Bon, and his father would all go to Popeyes after school was over.
His foot is kicked from under the table, and it's only know that he realises that his name is getting called, "Here!" He yells a tad too loud for comfort, "Here…" He tries to adjust his tone, but the damage is already done, and the teacher moves on from the situation.
He hears Anthony snicker under his breath, so he shoots the guy daggers until he's assured that the guy will get nightmares.
The teacher takes the spotlight as Coy starts to pay attention, "As the first semester comes to an end, I want to reveal the play that this class will perform. You will perform Much Ado About Nothing. Today, you will pick out how each of you will participate in this play. Gender's all aside, we are living in the modern world." She steps through the paths in between desks, "Whether you choose to be the set designer, poster artists, or the actors, you have free will, but..." She stops in front of Coy and Anthony's desk, "Each role will be filled out, and that means that even if you chose set design, you could also land a role in the play." She makes her way back to the board and starts writing down roles. When she finishes, she points out various roles, and people raise their hands.
He can't help but feel the stare of the person next to him, and he feels this sinister aura emitting from him. He intentionally scoots his chair a bit further away.
"Benedick and Beatrice. Any takers?"
No one says anything; it's the roles that no one really wants. The side characters have a weird side plot. The main character's cousin and the weird guy she bickers with.
It comes as a surprise when Anthony, beside him, raises his hand and is jotted down on the board. It surprises him even more when Anthony grabs Coy's arm and pulls him up against his will and volunteers him as his love interest. "Coy is willing to play, too."
"Excuse me, but I did not—" A hand is slapped into his face, rendering him speechless.
Anthony smiles sheepishly at the teacher and apologizes for him. The teacher jots down Coy's name right beside Anthony's; she does add a little question mark beside his name in good faith. He appreciates that gesture.
When every role is filled, and the class gets dismissed for the day, with the assignment to read the play till next class, he grabs his bag and starts heading out of class. "Coy. Hey!" Anthony yells from behind him. But he has no time to even think about whatever Anthony has planned. He's stopped by someone who grabs his hand and turns him around, "Where are you going in such a hurry?"
"Why are you acting like we're friends?"
"Ouch?" Anthony makes a hurt face, "Look, I'm sorry I volunteered you for the play, but I saw how you tried to hide yourself away, and if you weren't gonna participate in any way, you would get picked for one of the shitter roles eventually. I actually did you a favor."
"Wow, thank you, Charming. But that is my decision to make if I want a shitty role or not. You are not one of the 3 B's in my life. Bestie, Brother, or Boyfriend, so stay the hell away from me." Coy storms out of the class, in search of his sister or Will to calm himself down with.
But for some reason, this guy insists on following him, "We should exchange numbers. For the play."
"We don't have a script yet, so I don't see why we should."
"But, we're gonna interact with each other a whole lot more, so it would be smart to get each other's dials." Anthony presses him. Eventually, Coy stops in his tracks with a groan and reaches for his back pocket for his phone.
He hands it to him, his phone being open on the contacts, "Put it in."
"Take me to dinner first, Piso." Anthony smirkingly jokes, then proceeds to take his phone and tap his number into it. Coy takes it back and turns around, "Wait, aren't you gonna text me so I can get your number too?"
"Dream on, pretty boy."
It would be great to have the one singular shared class with Anthony. But luck has never been on his side, so when Art class rolls around, he mentally prepares himself to see the guy who had only the day prior ignored him, as he had ignored the other. Something changed, and it might have changed for the worse.
It shifts something uncomfortable inside him as he gets to the classroom and enters, his eyes darting around nervously. When he doesn't spot the brown-haired guy, he relaxes and walks over to an empty rack, in the middle of two others who greet him. He nods politely at them.
When Anthony does enter, their eyes lock for a second, and Coy feels a little proud that he managed to avoid the guy for the next hour.
His pride doesn't last long because as the class starts and they get paired into teams of two to do the art project of the week, he gets paired with Anthony of all people. "Oh, my god." He sighs lowly for himself.
"It must be destiny." Anthony points out.
"You were the fault in us being cast in Drama class. That's not fate, that's forced proximity."
Coy grabs his drawing notepad and starts to leave, so when Anthony doesn't follow, he turns around, "Are you coming or not?"
A smile starts forming on the other's face as he grabs his notepad and follows Coy out to the courtyard.
As they walk through the hallways and into the courtyard, Anthony speaks up, "So are you doing anything this weekend?"
"Why?" Coy asks, in front of the others, with his A3 notepad under his arm and his pencil case in his other. "Are you asking because you want to ask me out? Well, the answer is no."
"It was to work on both the play and this art project, but if your first thought is going out with me, I'm not opposed to it." Anthony winks at him, and Coy turns to roll his eyes as he finds a spot in the sun away from most people. "You gotta acknowledge that we're compatible in a way, Piso."
"Compatible? In what way?" Coy swings his leg over the bench and slams his notepad down on the table, "We are not a match, and we won't ever be."
Anthony ignores that and sits down in front of the other, "We're both huge nerds and losers. We share two classes together, which is like—That's destiny. We didn't even plan that, we have never been friends and yet we're talking now."
"We're only talking—" Coy stares at Anthony, "Because we have to for school. We were perfectly fine off not knowing each other."
"I wouldn't mind knowing you."
Coy shakes his head, "I'd rather us stay strangers, yeah?"
"So you would turn down my offer of friendship, maybe even more?" Anthony opens his notepad, grabs a pencil, and puts it in his mouth, "Piso, you won't be able to resist me. I give it a week."
The other doesn't respond to that and opens his notepad to start drawing. "Sit still so I can capture your horrendous appearance."
"Bet."
It's really Coy's own fault for not taking Anthony seriously when he said he would try his way with Coy. It started this morning when he arrived at his class—A class, mind you, that didn't involve Anthony at all. He had no reason to be there, and he wasn't there. At least not until a mariachi band showed up, singing in Spanish, and the only word he understood was 'Coy' snuck in there like the salt on top of your pasta.
The band split, and while Coy wants simultaneously to slam his head into the table and watch what is going on, he chooses the latter and would soon regret it, because behind the band stands none other than Anthony Potero, suited up and with a rose stuck between his teeth, which he takes out and points at him, at Coy. Everyone in class, including the teacher, is speechless and looks to him, as if he has an explanation for why Anthony Potero interrupted Economics.
The band keeps playing until Coy stands up, the chair scraping the floor and flopping over. He walks out of the class, grabs a handful of Anthony’s shirt, and drags him outside of class, closing the door behind him as the band follows the two of them as they make their way outside the front of the school building.
Coy asks Anthony to call off the band as the two of them stand around, and Anthony awkwardly tells the guys to leave, and says that they are still getting fully paid for what he has promised them. When the two are alone, Coy crosses his arms and leans back on his right leg.
"Okay, but can you admit that was slightly romantic?" Anthony's arm is hanging by his side with the rose. He watches as a petal falls to the ground slowly, "I mean, you must be charmed." Anthony pulls on his bowtie with one hand and looks slightly down at the ground like a kicked puppy.
Coy shakes his head, "You disturbed the class I was in, making me feel embarrassed. The one class I was psyched to actually learn from—"
"—No one is psyched about economics—"
"—Okay, you're right. But what if it had been like—I don't know—Web design. I would have been pissed." Coy tilts his head.
"So you aren't pissed?" Anthony's mouth tilts up into an unsure smile, and Coy rolls his eyes.
"Whatever." Coy starts, "You've already pulled me from my class, and it was economics. Nothing to really brag about, though, I would have left the class myself eventually." He starts to make his way towards a bench near the smoking area of the school. Well, they aren't allowed to smoke on school property, but so many teachers and students alike ignored that and started smoking in one spot that eventually it was named the smoking spot. Right now it was empty, the remains of smoke from the people that has been there minutes prior.
Anthony follows; his suit makes him stand out from all the other students' hoodies and pajamas. Coy scratches his leg and then puts his hand in his pocket as he fishes up the packet he's looking for. He puts the stick to his mouth and pats his other pocket. When he finds it empty, he sighs and takes the stick out.
Something clicks from beside him, and so he looks at Anthony.
In Anthony's hand, there's a lighter he's fidgeting with, turning it on and off like fluid is free. Anthony notices his stare, "Oh? You want to borrow my light?"
Instantly, Coy scrunches his nose and shakes his head, closing his eyes as he leans back on the bench, "Nah, I don't even smoke that often."
"Sure." Anthony then proceeds to reach out and yank the stick from between his finger, put it in his own mouth, and light it. Coy can only watch with an annoyed gaze, "You won't mind me borrowing this then?" He inhales and exhales into Coy's face, who closes his eyes as smoke brushes past him.
"Are you trying to make an enemy out of me, or charm my pants off?"
"Is it working?"
"No." Coy snatches the lit stick back from Anthony and puts it to his mouth as he inhales.
Anthony nudges his foot, "Take me to lunch?"
Coy raises a brow, "Aren't you the one who should ask me out, not make me ask you out?"
"I used a lot of money on the band, you should pay me back."
Some silence follows before Coy smears the end of the cig into the bench, which is already filled with dark spots and stands, "I know the perfect place."
Coy thought he had seen the last of Anthony for some time, hoping his stunt yesterday was enough satisfaction for him, but he was about to be proven very wrong. The first thing that Coy woke up to was music. Not coming from inside his room, not even the house. But outside.
So as Coy rushes to the window, opens the curtains and looks out of the window, showcasing the pavement outside, he locks in on a car, with an open roof and in the drivers seat sits Anthony, sunglasses and a yellow shirt. When he spots Coy in the window, he tilts down his glasses and waves at him.
Coy, shirtless, closes the curtains in haste and throws on some pants and a shirt, and almost trips while running to the room next to him. Knocking persistently at the door until someone opens it with a whine.
"Don't play music so early in the morning, Coy." Hannah groaned as she opened the door.
"Did you sic your dog on me or something? Is this revenge for something?" Coy slams the door open and walks in and sits down on her bed, "He's been up in my business lately, and I don't know why. The only person who resents me is you, which makes this your fault."
"Who?" Hannah crosses her arms as she leans against the doorframe.
"Anthony." Coy rolls his eyes.
Hannah un-crosses her arms and walks over to him, gives him a stare, "He's always liked you, you're just too damn oblivious to see it. Maybe he's had enough and wanted you to finally notice him? Go out and make him go away. He's your dog, not mine." Hannah grabs his arm and gets him to stand up before pushing him out of her room and slamming the door in his face.
Coy closes his eyes and sighs, "Mother Mary, give me patience."
As he makes his way downstairs, silently cursing his sister and his father, too. His father whose already gone to his morning meeting at the school, and his sister, who likes to be fashionably late to everything. Thank god his father wasn't still in bed, what would he say to someone trying to get with his son? He grabs his bag by the door and a cold can of coffee from the fridge and turns the knob on the door.
Sun blinds him in an instant, and he's met with music coming from the car in front of him.
"Piso! Join me!" Anthony yells over the stereo. He honks to make a statement, so Coy rushes over.
"Turn it the fuck down or I'm reporting you for disturbing the neighborhood." With that, Anthony turns the music down and pats the shotgun seat, "I'm not getting in your car." Coy starts walking on the pavement, opening the can of coffee and taking a swig.
Anthony puts the car in drive and slowly moves forward along with Coy's pace, "You'll regret not getting in. It's really comfortable seats, and the weather's perfect for the breeze to flow through your hair."
Coy keeps walking, trying to ignore the guy.
"Now that we're here, what's your favorite color? Well, my favorite color is actually green, but I say it's yellow to throw others off. I mean, I suit yellow perfectly, and I really do like having yellow on me, but I've always liked green better, well, not better. I mean, who doesn't like blue, but it's too basic to choose as a favorite color, like why would I be basic as fuck? So, as a kid, I've always leaned toward green more, and I think that's changed my outlook on life. There's so much green around us and beside us, the grass, the trees, grasshoppers, I mean, your shirt is green. I guess that means you like green, too. Or is it also a case of mine, that you like green on you, but it isn't your favorite color, because in that case—"
"Will you shut up if I get in the car?"
Anthony nods his head quickly and puts the car in park.
Coy grabs the door handle and opens the door, and sits down in the seat with his coffee and his bag, which he throws behind into the backseats with the one other bag. "Are you gonna go?"
"You have to—wait—" Anthony suddenly gets really close to his face, and Coy feels himself freeze up. His eyes meet the other's, and he realises how baby blue Anthony's eyes really are; he feels his breath on his face, and he can't help but feel his face start to flush.
Anthony isn't unattractive, maybe to the untrained and hetero eye, but Coy, as a gay man, really does see potential in Anthony. And to have an attractive man up in your face like this, it does something to him that he hasn't felt in a long time.
Click.
The breath goes away, and Anthony sits back in his seat. "You forgot your seatbelt."
"…Seatbelt, right." Coy looks out of the other side, hiding his face in his hand, and knocks his finger knuckle into his forehead, stupid, stupid, stupid.
"So what is your favorite color?"
"Blue." Coy says, "It's blue."
Anthony makes a strained face, "I didn't mean to bash on the color, sorry."
"It's okay." Coy goes back to looking out of the side of the car, the wind blows through his hair, and he closes his eyes for a second. "I'm sorry, I never noticed you before. I mean, I did, but I've never been interested in anyone in our school, so I thought you wouldn't mind." He thinks back to what Hannah said to him about Anthony, that he liked Coy.
And Coy wasn't opposed to it.
"I definitely noticed you, how could I not?" Anthony says, "I mean, you're you. I'm me. Loser x loser, or whatever."
"Are you calling me a loser?" Coy turns to him. "I mean, you're not wrong, but still…" Anthony turns to him with a goofy smirk.
"Sorry, but it's just my observation." Anthony's hand hangs over the window frame, and he whistles along to the music playing on the stereo. "I would love to get together this weekend to go over our homework and the play. I mean, if you aren't busy."
It's a fair ask for someone whose GPA is over 3.5. He would hate to get a low grade for a class that he hates. Yeah, Coy knows that Anthony hates Drama, and he knows that their teacher isn't particularly fond of Anthony either. Why? How would he know? It's probably something personal, or maybe it's that Anthony is not well-versed with the teachers altogether. He doesn't even have real friends, so how would he know how to act around people other than his family? It's not his fault that he doesn't leave his house other than going to school. Coy doesn't really feel bad for the guy, because he had every chance the last few years to make friends, and all he did was try to keep his GPA up.
And it's not like Coy is the golden example of a good student or friend; he's average. The only thing he has to his name is that he's the principal's son, and so what? He has a connection to the one powerful person at the school, but that doesn't mean he's cheating on his exams or getting extra time. His father is a fair man, and he wouldn't make his life any easier even if he begged. Bon, on the other hand, she would get served 24k gold on her plate if she asked for it. His father is fair, but there's a clear favoritism in the household for sure.
"You can come by my house, as you know the way already somehow." It's supposed to come off as a bit playful, but Anthony suddenly goes all quiet. Which makes Coy curious, "How did you know where I live?"
Anthony shakes his head slightly, "The address book."
"There isn't one."
"I stalked you."
"I'm calling the cops on you. I clearly need a restraining order." Coy closes his eyes and prays.
"Look, it's quite easy to go around and ask people where the principal's son lives, and if you're me, you have a lot of connections."
"That makes it sound like you have links, as in drug-dealing links. I mean, I don't judge."
Anthony looks to him, "What? No, I mean I have friends who know where you live."
"Now I know that's a lie."
"What?"
"I mean," Coy looks to him and chuckles a bit to himself, his eyes dart down and then up, "You're a loner, which friends could you be talking about?"
Anthony gets quiet again and keeps driving, his eyes on the road. "Right." The music cuts through the silence before Anthony looks to him with this strained smile, "Guess I'm just a creep."
The weekend rolls around like a lazy cat stretching in the sun, and Coy could not be more nervous. Sure, he did invite Anthony over, but he was in a state of 'omg-we-almost-kissed-wtf'; to him, that conversation never happened. So when Anthony spoke to him on Friday about bringing the printed-out manuscript for them to practice, he remembered the talk in the car, and all he could do was nod.
He hates being wrong, and to admit to himself that Anthony was starting to rub off on him, he couldn't do that. To admit that he was starting to feel comfortable around him, and that it wasn't friendly feelings. His heart beat faster, his eyes would only look in his direction, and he would imagine these futures that could not be more wrong. He did not like Anthony. No. How could he?
Anthony did not like him; he was messing with him, that was the only explanation for these antics of his. Why would Anthony now chase him? Why would Anthony look at him? Why?
Pacing around his house—the empty house—which was empty all because Bon had taken their father on one of the shopping trips she loved to do, leaving him all alone in the house. She winked at him when she left in the morning, like she knew who was coming over. Like she was rooting for him to get it on. Get what on? Drama class homework?
They were gonna draw each other, too, which meant he had an excuse to look at Anthony for a longer period of time without getting weird stares.
When the bell rings, Coy jumps in place and runs over to the front door to look out through the spyhole. He watches as Anthony stands with his hands behind his back and with a button-up shirt on. A bag hangs from his shoulder, and he looks nervous, too.
It calms Coy that he's not the only one nervous for this, and then he turns the lock and opens the door, "You actually came."
Anthony gives him a sheepish smile and reveals what's behind his back: it's a bundle of mostly cornflowers. "Well, I didn't want to show up empty-handed, so I stopped by a store. And, I know it's not much, I mean, I didn't even bring a wine for the house, and sure, I might not be 21 yet, but I could have grabbed one from my mom or something. Anyway, I hope it's not disappointing—you're crying. Oh god, did I make this awkward?"
Coy was tearing up, and he really did try to keep it together, but this was the first time someone had brought him flowers. It was always deodorants, or new pairs of underwear or socks. He's never been given flowers before, and to think that someone actually brought him his favorite flowers to him, it felt overwhelming. He wipes away the tears with his sleeves and shakes his head, "No, it's nice. I didn't expect it, that's all." He reaches out and grabs the flowers, staring down at them as tears start forming again. A tear falls down and lands on a flower; all he can do is turn around and walk into the house with weak knees.
He can hear Anthony follow close behind. Coy goes to a cabinet and finds a vase to fill with water and put them in, he would rather they not wither right away. Anthony drops his bag off by the entrance and takes off his shoes. Coy can barely look at the other, feeling emotions stir up in him every time he dares to look at the other.
Flowers had always had a deep meaning to him, at their mother's funeral, he was the one to buy the flowers, and he picked out cornflowers, both his and his mother's favorite flowers. To get cornflowers from someone who didn't know the meaning, that felt like a sign from her that she was still with him.
"So, how do you wanna do this?"
Coy turns around and meets Anthony's eyes, his cornflower blue eyes. "Hm?"
"Top or bottom?"
"WHAT?" Coy's face flushes immediately, and he takes a step backwards.
Anthony chuckles a bit, "No, I'm asking if you wanna do the art assignment first or rehearse the play." His eyes shine in amusement from the way Coy reacts to his 'joke'.
"That's not funny. Let's do the play and then draw."
Doing the play is the most boring thing he could possibly do with another person. Most of the play is arguing and being secretly in love with the other, and the other half is actually being in love. It doesn't take long before Coy asks to stop rehearsing and to start drawing each other instead, since he gets more enjoyment out of quietly drawing.
He's no artist, but it's strangely calming to do even if he lacks the skills. Anthony, on the other hand, is an artist, and it shows in his work. He feels honored to be paired with the other.
So as they sit around, in front of each other, on the floor of his room, with their notepads lying on their laps while hunched over, all he can do is stare at the other. He gets lost in thought until Anthony looks up and their eyes meet, and all he can do is snap his eyes back down at his notepad, where a very wonky-looking Anthony is staring back at him. He might at least get an A for effort.
To not get too hungry, he found some chips lying around to eat, and so in a shared bowl, there were some Lays chips. He reaches out and grabs a few and pops them in his mouth, feeling the sharp edges hit him and threaten to cut the inside of his mouth. He hears a crunch in front of him and looks up at Anthony, who's chewing on a few chips while deep in his notepad.
Coy gets curious, and so he peeks over at Anthony's pad, only to watch it get raised up, "Are you trying to peek at my drawing?" Anthony asks with a smirk on his face.
All Coy wants to do is wipe that smirk off his face. "No, I just want to know that you're not giving me a big chin or a goatee. I want my beauty to show in your work." Coy sits back down, and Anthony flips his pad over.
"Alright, let me see yours, and I'll show you mine."
"What are we talking about again?" Coy's eyebrow raises.
"You probably intentionally drew me ugly, knowing you." Anthony leans forward and starts crawling towards him, and all Coy can do is start scooting back with his notepad close to his chest, shaking his head.
"G-Get back!"
"Drew me with a mustache and pimples—" Anthony grabs the other's leg and yanks Coy under him easily. Coy stares up at the boy in front of him with wide eyes. "—and lots of lots of sex appeal, right?"
Coy clutches the notepad in his arms, he gulps, and his eyes flicker for a moment down at the other's lips and then back up into his eyes.
"What are you thinking of, Piso?" They're a breath away, and Coy can't think. He doesn't know what's happening, and all he wants—all he wants—Anthony is right there, and he can feel their hearts against each other, and he closes his eyes hard to try to avoid eye contact, but he can still feel the other near him, above him, beside his ear.
So when he opens his eyes, he makes the conscious decision.
He pulls Anthony down into a kiss.