Page 30 of Septembers

Thank you For Being a Friend

“Dae, please.”

“No.”

The chair Theo was standing on wobbled, and Dae appeared with surprising speed to grip it in place. Theo reached as far as he could to make sure the birthday banner wasn’t too crooked before tacking it to the wall, but ultimately, it tilted to the left. Whatever. Imperfection was beauty. Between each letter was a picture from The Golden Girls, and Dorothy was giving him a disapproving stare from beside the R, not unlike the one on Dae’s face.

Theo put his hands on Dae’s shoulders to steady himself as he hopped down. Was it strictly necessary? No. But also yes. “Caleb only turns nineteen once.”

Dae’s eyelids hung heavy with faux annoyance. “You can say that about every age.”

“Please?”

“Absolutely not.” He escaped Theo’s proximity and started emptying bags of chips into plastic bowls, which was probably smart, since they didn’t want to be caught unprepared when Caleb returned. Jordan was in charge of distracting him with music club stuff while the guys decorated. He’d recently discovered The Golden Girls and to say he was sort of obsessed was like saying Orlando Bloom as Legolas sort of ignited Theo’s sexual awakening. Obviously, they couldn’t have a theme without dressing up, an indisputable fact that Dae was nonetheless attempting to dispute.

“I already made him a special sticker for his birthday.”

“Yes, and it was adorable.” The long-haired creature was ninety-percent smile and simply said, Virgos Live Longer. Caleb had, of course, freaked out when he saw it on Dae’s site, thinking it had been such a fun coincidence. “But he doesn’t actually know that thoughtful gesture was from you. C’mon,” Theo said, nudging him, “you know how much it would mean to him.”

He sighed his Theo-sigh. “I know he likes the show, but⁠—”

“It’s not about the show, it’s about the four of us doing something together. He lives for that crap.” Theo put on his best pout. “I’m begging you.”

Dae’s lips twitched. “Then why aren’t you on your knees?”

“Wha…” Inappropriate, inappropriate, inappropriate. “What?”

Dae cocked his head innocently, and Theo couldn’t tell if he knew exactly what he was doing, or if he really didn’t understand the inferno he’d just sparked. “That’s what people do when they beg, isn’t it?”

There wasn’t time to unpack what the mischief in his voice was doing to Theo’s body, because Dae’s hand drifted towards his face, and then he flicked his forehead. “Not a chance.”

Fuuuuucking hell. Dae wasn’t making things easy.

“Little help?” Jason barged through the front door holding five bags of ice. They got to work breaking them up and Theo miraculously resisted tossing a few cubes down his pants to pull himself together. “T-minus ten minutes before people start showing up, and a half hour until go-time.” If Caleb lived for togetherness, Jason lived for efficiently making shit happen. “Is the projector set up?”

Dae nodded. “Episodes are cued to go.”

Jason picked up his clipboard—an actual clipboard—and checked it off his list. “Photo station?”

Theo’s salute was perfectly rigid. “The cardboard Golden Girls are ready to go with their faces cut out. An act that will haunt me for the rest of my days but will be worth it for the memories.”

Jason went over his list one last time, then gave them a huge grin. “Let’s go get ready.”

Theo was born to be Blanche. He didn’t even have to buy a wig; he just curled and fluffed his hair, put on some purple eyeshadow and bright red lipstick, and practiced a few flirty phrases in the mirror. He’d been in charge of finding outfits at the thrift store, and it had been agony choosing between a pink frock or shimmery silver dress for himself, but he decided the dress was more appropriate for the occasion, since it had better shoulder pads. A beaded necklace, plus some rings, and the costume was complete.

He knocked on Dae’s door before walking in. “Come on, spoil sport, if you’re not going to dress up—” A sound of pure joy came coughing out of him. A pea green jumpsuit was squeezed halfway up Dae’s body and a coiffed grey wig hung sideways on his head. Theo had never seen anyone grumpier than Dae was in that moment: downturned lips, eyebrows squeezed together, and an aura that screamed harumph.

“I think the scarf is supposed to go on first.” He held up the mustard yellow silk. “And I don’t know how to do this up in the back. How did a sixty year old woman manage this?”

“The wardrobe department.”

He glared. “Theo, I swear if you don’t stop smirking, I’m never leaving this room.”

“Let me do it.” Theo folded the scarf around his neck twice, then heaved the shoulders to acceptable heights and managed to clasp the dress shut, all while carefully avoiding contact with his skin, for perfectly normal reasons he couldn’t quite come up with at that moment.

Dae held his breath as Theo brushed his hair off his forehead, pushing it back and attempting to gather it beneath the wig. The soft strands fell through his fingers like silk, which was a pleasant sensation, but not very helpful for the task at hand.

“Your make-up is cool.” Dae’s voice was soft, like he wasn’t sure he wanted the words to come out.