Page 20 of Septembers

“No, that’s…” He shook his head and wandered farther away, suddenly very interested in the random books thrown haphazardly on the desk. “Promise not to babysit me.”

“Babysit?” The snort that escaped Theo’s body surprised them both. “So, no sending you to bed at eight o’clock, so I can eat all your parents’ snacks?”

Dae started picking at the hem of his shirt, the poor fabric stretching with the speed of his fingers. “You always stick with me to make sure I’m okay, and I appreciate it…”

“But?”

He hesitated, then continued in a small voice. “You’re so social. I don’t want to be the reason you don’t have fun.”

Ridiculous. Preposterous. Absurd. Dae was often the reason Theo enjoyed being out. Being his bridge to the world meant more to Theo than he could say. Which was why, instead, he just said lamely, “I have fun.”

Dae shook his head, his eyes on the part of his shirt he was still manhandling, which now had two new loose threads. Theo couldn’t stand seeing him so unsure. His own hands darted out almost of their own accord and took Dae’s wrists, gently tugging them away from the victimized fabric. His skin was warm, but that wasn’t exactly shocking. It was a warm day. Of course his skin would be…um. What had they been talking about?

Oh, right. “What makes you think I can’t make sure you’re okay and have fun?”

That came out wrong, but Theo had no idea how to fix it. The two things weren’t separate.

Dae couldn’t seem to tear his focus from their hands, which reminded Theo to let him go. It wasn’t a big deal at all, so he wasn’t sure why he overcompensated by stepping away and squeaking out a dumb-sounding laugh.

“I need you when we’re out. You stop me from doing stupid shit.”

“Do I?” Dae’s face scrunched, dubious. “When we went to the art exhibit in the summer, you wore a unicorn onesie and sweat so much you had to buy an I Heart Toronto t-shirt.”

“Okay, first of all, it was a children’s art exhibit, and I honestly can’t believe I was the only one dressed to spread joy.” That got an almost-smile. “Secondly, if you’d been there when I was making that decision, maybe I wouldn’t have made it.”

“I was there when you got too hot and decided boxers are basically shorts.”

“Dae.” Maybe his name came out too intense, but this line of thought was making him squirmy, and he needed him to understand. Dae had already looked away again, his eyes on the matted carpet, so Theo dipped to meet them, waiting as his gaze worked its way back up. “I’m not your babysitter, I’m your friend. Friends hang out at parties and get each other through overwhelming situations and make sure they consume more than coffee and Rice Krispie squares.”

Something in what he said seemed to hook into Dae, but Theo couldn’t figure out which part, or if it was good or bad. Dae’s eyes shifted back and forth between his, the hint of a response working its way into existence, his chest rising with the promise of it⁠—

“What’s taking so long?” Jason knocked needlessly on the open door before walking in. “We’ve got it down to sushi or Thai bowls. Tell me which one in the next five seconds.”

Theo was both frustrated by and grateful for the interruption. Dae had been working up to something meaningful, he knew it. But now the words that had been building the courage to leap off his tongue retreated down his throat and seemed to take hold of his body, pushing him out of the room with a shrug as he passed Jason.

“Okay,” Jason said, nodding at Dae’s non-answer. “That’s two for Thai bowls. Theo?”

Theo stared, blinking, momentarily distracted by his burning curiosity, but he shook it off and focused on what truly mattered. “I don’t understand this disdain for tradition. Pizza is the moving day meal.”

Jason frowned, fanning out his t-shirt. “No pizza. It’s way too hot.”

(Twenty.)

༻𓆪 𓆩༺

Dae didn’t show up for lunch. Jason had convinced them to order some peanut-rice thing that was shockingly delicious for healthy bullshit, but Theo only made it a few bites before he zoned out, overthinking Dae’s absence. His order was still in the paper bag, the receipt for four servings stapled to the top, reminding them in black and white that they were down a man.

“This’ll be gross if it’s cold.” He tried not to glance up the stairs as he said it, but he failed.

“He’s fine, Theo.” Jason shared a quick glance with Caleb. “Actually, we were going to talk to you about⁠—”

“I’ll take it up to him.” He grabbed the bag and marched up the stairs, vaguely aware that Jason had been talking as he left.

He knocked and waited for Dae’s soft, “Yeah?” before sticking his arm into his room, food in-hand. Preceding his entrance with a savoury aroma paid off, because when the rest of his body followed, Dae was sitting at his desk, leaning forwards as if the smell was luring him in.

He had started to unpack, so clothes sat in organized piles on his bed, along with stacks of books on his desk beside a cardboard box Theo knew was filled with Bob is Not Your Neighbour notebooks.

However, the thing Theo focused on was the half-eaten chocolate-covered granola bar in his hand.