Work Text:
"Nikki! Have you seen my keys?"
Bryan taps his foot as he waits on the stairs, leaning back against the banister. The sun shines through the window beside him, washing the carpet in pale light, and he checks his phone for the time. 8:32, the screen reads. Nikki has to be at work at 9:00 sharp. And they still haven't eaten breakfast.
He is about to shout her name again when instead of her, Ray comes bounding down the staircase. He looks ready for school, his hair neatly brushed for once and backpack slung over his shoulder. He greets Bryan with a smile, then asks, "Shouldn't you know where your own keys are?"
Bryan just rolls his eyes. "Good morning to you, too, Ray."
His little brother laughs and continues down the stairs.
"Nikki, c'mon!" Bryan calls. "You're gonna be late!"
Soon enough, he hears a door slam, before Nikki emerges at the top of the stairs. "Don't rush me," she declares, part of their song and dance that happens every morning. "I dunno shit about your keys. Maybe check your laundry?"
"Fuck. You're probably right. I'll meet you downstairs, okay?"
Thankfully, Nikki doesn't seem truly upset and nods.
Bryan hurries back to his room and starts to rummage through his dirty clothes, half spilling out of their basket. The rest of his room is in a similar state of disarray, the cords leading to his TV tangled and empty snack wrappers littering his desk. He finds the jeans he was wearing yesterday and digs into their pockets.
"Got 'em!"
He throws his keys in the air and catches them triumphantly. He ensures that he has his wallet and courier lanyard, then leaves his room without tidying up at all.
In the kitchen, their dad is taking bread out of the toaster and handing it to their appa, who has a knife and jam spread out on the counter in front of him. He prepares the toast as it comes. Ray sits at the dining table, already almost done with his second piece and perusing the fruit bowl, while their appa hands Nikki her plate.
"Thanks, Appa," she murmurs, kissing him on the cheek.
"Of course, sweetheart," he replies. Both of their parents are dressed as well, but Appa's voice is deeper than usual, as it often gets after he wakes up. He kind of sounds like a big, cuddly wolf.
Nikki obviously thinks the same and is trying her best to not laugh, but she spots Bryan and just their eyes meeting is enough to make her crack. "It's nothing, Appa, don't worry," she attempts to say at his raised brows, but quickly gives up and dissolves into giggles.
Appa simply shares a look with his husband and doesn't prod any further. They were always doing that — having conversations without speaking. Bryan has learned to not question it.
He takes the next plate Appa produces, and gives him a one-armed hug in thanks. "You ready to go, Nikki?"
"Yeah, just let me unplug my phone," she tells him, disappearing down the hall.
"You two are leaving already?" Their dad turns around to face him as he waits for more bread to toast. He is wearing his fox cardigan, the one that always looks so soft and Bryan wants to steal for himself one day.
"Well yeah, Dad, she has to be there in like—" He glances at the clock on the wall. "20 minutes."
"Alright, alright," his dad yields. "Make sure you both grab your jackets, it's supposed to be cold today. And take some of these."
Bryan catches the granola bars he tosses at him and mock salutes. "Will do, boss."
"See you later," Ray talks through a mouthful of orange slices. Bryan huffs, reaching over to ruffle his hair. "Hey!"
"You trying to impress somebody?" He already knows the answer is yes. After all, he has noticed the texts lighting up Ray's phone during dinner, and the way he dodges their parents' questions about it every time. They must know more than Bryan does, seeing as Appa teaches at Ray's high school and Dad teaches at the middle school next door. Nikki might be their big sister, but Bryan is his older brother, so he likes to tease Ray whenever he gets the chance.
"Wha— no! Who would I be trying t— of course not! What makes you think that?"
"Eh, call it a hunch."
Before he can say anything else, Nikki returns. She is carrying her bag and balancing the plate of toast atop her phone. Ray sighs in relief as she gestures to the door. "Let's go, Bry."
"Drive safe!" Appa yells after them, and they chorus an affirmative. Bryan closes the door behind them, unlocking his car at the same time. Nikki climbs into the passenger seat, and he gets in behind the wheel. She opens the glove box where they keep all their CDs and begins to rifle through them.
"No Hard Feelings?" She holds up the album, and he shrugs. He lets her choose whatever she wants to listen to when he drives her to and from work, since he can control the radio for the rest of the day while he delivers. It's also worth it to see the grin that immediately lights up her face. "Yes!"
Indie rock fills the car's speakers, and Nikki leans back in her seat, satisfied. She sings along with the moody lead for the entirety of the drive, eyes closed except for when she crunches on her toast and the singer reaches her high, long notes, which Nikki belts out with her whole chest.
Meanwhile, Bryan tries and fails to keep his gaze on the road. He can't help it — his sister being so openly, genuinely carefree is a precious sight. He doesn't want to miss it.
It comes to an end all too soon, though, once they pull into the parking lot of Cassell's Music. The last few strums of bass fade and Nikki settles down, staring out the window at the music store. The atmosphere suddenly feels a little heavier, but he doesn't understand why.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," Nikki mumbles, smile replaced by a small frown. "I just hate working here."
Bryan sighs. "I know."
She told him about a month ago, how stifling and unfulfilling every one of her shifts feel. How the manager and her coworkers were friendly, but something was simply... missing. She didn't seem to want any advice or encouragement, only an opportunity to vent, so he stayed quiet.
Maybe that was the wrong choice, since her feelings haven't changed. Maybe he should tell her what he thought the first time.
"You could quit."
Nikki looks back at him, expression slightly incredulous.
"Think about it," he rushes to explain. "Dad and Appa would be more than okay with you taking a break while you figure things out. I know you wanna be a writer. You could be really good at it. I mean, with the stuff you've let me read — you already are. So just... think about it, alright?"
She worries at her bottom lip, even as her eyes soften. Finally, she says, "Okay. Thanks, Bry."
"No problem—" He is interrupted by Nikki leaning across the console and throwing her arms around him. Bryan, a little taken off guard, freezes for a moment before he leans into the warmth and hugs her back. Her hold tightens, squeezing him so hard he loses his breath, then she pulls away.
"Bye!" She opens her door, jumps out, and slams it shut. She starts to walk towards the store.
Bryan rolls down the window and shouts, "I'll pick you up at 5!"
Nikki just waves at him.
Ray leaves the car almost instantly after Simon shuts the engine off.
"Have a good day, you guys, love you!" he blurts, snatching up his backpack and opening his door.
Ryland, who was in the middle of adjusting his glasses in the rearview mirror, stops and watches him stride into the school, then looks at Simon with disbelief, mouth slightly agape. "What's up with that?"
"I think you know what." Simon unbuckles his seat belt, not elaborating, but Ryland understands immediately. The surprise melts from his face and makes way for affection.
"Awww. Wait, you're the one who sees them all day. Spill," his husband demands.
It technically isn't true. Simon only sees them during passing periods, and in his last class of the day that the two of them share. But it doesn't really matter right now — he hasn't given Ryland an update for weeks.
"He meets Peter at his locker every morning—" Ryland nods, thoroughly invested. "And they hang out until the first bell. They walk each other to every class, and in my last period, all they do is pass notes and giggle in the back of the room."
Ryland falls backwards into his seat, spreading his hands out on his knees. "Oh, they sound so cute! I wish Ray would introduce us already."
"Well... I'm not sure they're anything more than friends." He can tell Ryland wants to protest, but knows Simon has examined them more closely, and so he listens attentively. "For now, at least. Ray really likes him, though."
"And Peter?" Ryland tilts his head, looking a bit worried for their youngest. "Do you think he likes him back?"
Simon considers this for a second. Why else would Peter spend as much time with Ray as he did? Because Ray has a way of making you feel special and loved and like the center of his universe? If so, Simon would understand — he feels it himself daily. But he can't hope to place what that means to Peter. He barely knows the kid.
Ryland takes his silence as answer enough. His arms cross, and he begins to rub the soft yarn of his sleeves. "I wish Ray would talk to us about it. I mean, Bryan was comfortable telling us all about Michelle, and Nikki came out when she was only 13—"
"Hey," Simon murmurs, reaching to take Ryland's hands in his, stopping the nervous motions before they intensify. "He will. When he's ready. We just have to be patient."
Ryland inhales deeply and slowly breathes out. He nods, squeezing Simon's hands. "Yeah, you're right. Thank you."
Simon leans forward to kiss him softly. He brings their foreheads together, and for a moment, it feels like only the two of them exist. The rest of the world has disappeared, and all that matters is the warmth of their intertwined fingers.
Then the bell rings.
"Shoot!" Ryland exclaims, at the same instant that Simon utters, "Shit!"
Simon gives him a fast peck once more, and they both scramble out of the car, dashing in opposite directions.
"Pete, I gotta get to class," Ray mutters against his lips, but doesn't pull back. In fact, he grips Pete's waist tighter and lets his hands drift upwards to splay across his boyfriend's back. He continues, "You do, too."
Pete kisses him again, and again, and only when Ray's fingers have begun to tingle does he say, "Alright, fine."
Ray takes the chance to catch his breath and admire Pete's flushed cheeks. And his clever mouth and dark eyes. And the way they crinkle in the corners when he smiles. And, and, and. Pete might be the poet between the two of them, but Ray bets he could rival the greats if he all had to do was write about Pete.
"What'd you think of the song I sent you last night?"
Ray recalls the lyrics in his head. They were more of a story set to music, describing a man who bought lottery tickets for his entire life but never won. Only when he laid on his deathbed, cradling his lover, did he realize he was grateful for that. "It was beautiful, Pete. You're beautiful."
"Look who's talking," Pete laughs, and the sound is like cool water trickling over his ears, gentle and soothing. "I'll sing it to you sometime."
"Please do."
They make no move to untangle themselves from each other, and the hallway remains empty. Or so he assumes, looking left and right. He doesn't spot any students or teachers. The bell rang maybe five minutes ago. Surely, another kiss wouldn't hurt—
Just as Ray is pressing their lips together, he hears footsteps to his right. It takes a long moment for his hazy mind to comprehend them, and by the time he does, it's too late.
"Ray?"
They jump like startled cats. Ray turns his head and feels embarrassment fill him at who he sees.
"I knew it!" Ryland screeches a little too loud when Simon tells him about Ray and Peter over lunch, causing the rest of the teachers in the teachers' lounge to stare at him. "Oops. Sorry."
Simon cracks a small smile. He lifts a carrot to his mouth and chomps down on it. "He was mortified. Peter was, too. But I promised him we would be talking later and that I wouldn't tell Bryan or Nikki, then sent them both to class."
Ryland can't help but snort. "Good idea. Those two don't need anything else to pester him about."
As the excitement of the realization fades, he takes a bite out of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich and mulls over his next question. He decides to just come out and ask.
"He didn't seem... scared, did he?"
"No," Simon states, brows drawn together. He has a pensive expression on his face, the one that means he is trying to puzzle out exactly what Ryland is thinking. "Why?"
"It's probably nothing. Just... there must be a reason he didn't tell us sooner, right?" He ignores the anxiety rising in his chest and pushes through. "Either he was uncomfortable for some reason and, I don't know, afraid of what our reactions would be, or... something else is going on."
Simon, despite not moving an inch of his face, looks like his mind is running a million miles per hour. The noise of the coffee machine and idle conversation from the other tables is all that fills the space between them, but Ryland finds that he doesn't mind. Simon's presence is more than enough.
They never miss a lunch break together, no matter how many papers either of them have to grade. It's a breather from the chaos of the day, somewhere they can wind down far from the kids, as much as they both love teaching.
He wouldn't change a thing.
"We'll have to ask him ourselves," Simon finally concludes. "This is all happening very fast."
"Imagine how Ray feels," Ryland replies. "We need to apologize to him, too, for being so pushy."
"Sure. Then I'm scolding him for making out with his boyfriend in the hallway."
That response isn't surprising in the least, and still it makes Ryland cackle. The worry never sticks around long when he is with Simon, the man having a natural calming effect on him. Ryland might as well join him, especially since Ray was evidently planning to skip class to spend time with Pete. Not that the boy deserves too much flack — he and Simon weren't much better when they first started working only a few yards apart.
"I'm happy for him, though," he says, raising his mug to his lips. Ray's heart has plenty of love to give, and he trusts his son to choose someone with just as much.
Simon hums in agreement, and keeps holding his hand.
Nikki is exhausted.
It was the kind of mental exhaustion that bled into the physical. Her morning had started fine, but quickly took a sour turn once Bryan dropped her off at work. She spent at least an hour helping a crabby old man pick out a harmonica, then had to go into the back to unbox a new shipment of guitars. Which would be fine, if she had been paired with Sarah or maybe even Ian. But nope. The manager ordered them to occupy the cashiers. So she was stuck with Bear.
For three whole hours.
He was acting weird, cagey one second and overly friendly the next. His laughter rang out across the spacious room whenever she tried to lighten the atmosphere by making a joke, slightly shaky and almost... nervous. She didn't understand why he would be nervous around her. They made little conversation until lunch, when Bear suggested that all four of them try the sushi restaurant that just opened next door. Everyone agreed.
Lunch was okay, filled with complaints from Sarah and Ian about customers and whatever else came to their minds. Once they had finished eating, Bear pulled out his card and set it on the counter.
"Um, what're you doing?" Nikki asked with a smile that felt more and more out of place the longer she stared at him.
"Don't worry about paying," Bear told her, his mouth curving. Then he turned to Sarah and Ian. "I've got it, you guys."
Ian cheered and put his wallet back in his pocket, while Sarah's cheeks reddened and she thanked him.
It was a nice thing to do. Really nice.
She couldn't explain the pit she had in her stomach for the rest of the day. Luckily, it didn't take long to unpack the remaining inventory and soon they were able to join the other two in the front. She casually kept her distance from Bear, who was chatting with Ian, and hung around Sarah instead. She tried to listen to what Sarah was saying, but it all went through one ear and out the other.
By the time 5:00 swings around, she is eager to leave. Bryan's car pulls up outside, and she waves goodbye to everyone before booking it out of there.
"Drive," she demands, as soon as she slams the passenger door shut. Bryan blinks at her, then dutifully starts the engine.
"So... I guess I don't have to ask how work went," he blurts after a few minutes, as if he was holding it in. Nikki hadn't picked out any music like she normally does, so the car was silent. She takes pity on him.
"No. It was just... annoying," she lands on, for lack of a better word. "I don't really wanna talk about it."
"Totally. We don't have to," her brother relents, maddeningly considerate. He was always like that. All caring and shit.
"Fine," she groans, folding under zero pressure. "It was one of my coworkers. He's fine, I don't even know what it is. I just get weird vibes."
Bryan huffs. "Well, vibes are important. And I'm sure something's up, if you think he's weird, because you're the most normal person I've ever met."
"Shut up!" It shocks a laugh out of Nikki, and she feels the weight slowly lift from her shoulders. "You're lucky to even know me."
"Yeah, I am." The words come out more genuine than he probably meant them to, but she lets it slide.
She's pretty lucky to have Bryan, too.
"But if he gives you any trouble, y'know, you can tell us."
"Ew." Nikki rolls her eyes, looking out the window. "C'mon, Bry. You guys know I can handle myself."
"Yeah, yeah, of course! I know that." Bryan hesitates now, fingers tapping the wheel. "I don't mean it in that way, like you can't stand up for yourself or something... I just want you to remember that we have your back. Always."
Her voice grows softer of its own accord. "I remember, Bry."
He sounds like he is smiling when he speaks next. "Okay, then. Good."
Ten minutes later, they pull into the driveway. She has almost forgotten what made her upset in the first place, watching the trees and sidewalks go by, but left in the wake are hunger and fatigue. All she wants to do is eat dinner, then curl up in bed. Light streams through the partially-closed blinds, so the rest of their family must be already home.
Bryan unlocks the front door. The first thing she notices when she steps inside is the smell of tomatoes, tangy and sweet, as well as the earthy aroma of oregano. She hears chatter as they hang their jackets on hooks, coming from the direction of the kitchen. Muscle memory carries them through the dim hallway towards the sound.
Their appa is crouched in front of the oven, reaching in with both hands covered in mitts to remove whatever smells so heavenly. Nikki scooches past Bryan in the doorway, mouth practically watering.
Dad looks up from where he was setting the table. "There you are! Oh—" He freezes as Nikki makes a beeline for the oven, then stops and gives him a hug in acknowledgement, then continues on her way. "Uh, okay. Bryan, could you tell Ray that dinner's ready?"
"Yeah, sure." Bryan heads for the stairs.
Nikki peeks over her appa's shoulder and discovers he is holding a dish of lasagna. The cheese on top is golden and bubbly, fresh steam rising off it. Her stomach growls at the sight, and she stares unabashedly with wide eyes.
Appa gestures for her to back up. "It's still hot, sweetheart. Sit down, I'll get you some in a bit."
"Ugh, but I'm so hungry," she grumbles. The food is calling to her. He just grabs her by the shoulders and guides her into a chair. She goes willingly, but frowns all the while.
Bryan reappears with Ray in tow. Her youngest brother sits next to her, picking at a bag of chips. He wordlessly tilts it towards her, and she immediately grabs like, four and stuffs them in her mouth. "You're actually the best brother ever," she declares, and reaches for more.
"What the fuck, dude?" Bryan, who is sitting across from them, looks mildly offended.
Nikki shrugs. So does Ray.
Bryan buries his head in his hands, but she can see the tiny smile between his fingers.
It feels like forever until the lasagna is cool enough to eat, though it can't be more than fifteen minutes. While they wait, Dad tells them about his day, and they each take turns doing so. Nikki doesn't mention Bear, nor the fact that she is seriously considering Bryan's advice from this morning. Now isn't the right time, with everyone warm and cheerful. Eventually, Appa joins them and recounts his own day, and she lets herself be lulled by his deep, steady voice.
Then the timer that Appa set goes off and he moves to stand again. Dad stops him with a hand on his arm, wordlessly rising and fetching the dish himself. He places it in the middle of the dining table, and Nikki is the first to cut herself a portion. Appa chuckles at her, but all she can focus on is finally eating.
And she isn't alone. Her brothers scarf down the food, too, seemingly craving a hot meal just as much as her. Their parents simply watch them fondly, weary after a long day of work but content to continue on, since they get to return home to this.
Safety. Love. Family.
Her day doesn't end so bad, after all.