Page 35 of Septembers

“It’s hideous.”

“It’s perfect.” Dae threw it at him. “And if you don’t put it on right now, I quit as your manager.”

“I like it when you’re bossy.” Theo didn’t necessarily have to take off his shirt to put on the giant fabric tent, but he didn’t love being sweaty, and his shirt had definitely seen drier days. The muumuu smelled like baby powder and mothballs, but the fabric was pleasantly soft against his skin. “Oh wow. It’s actually quite comfortable.”

Dae’s laugh almost startled Theo’s soul right out of his body. He’d never seen him unleash before, his hands clutching his stomach, his smile joyous, his head thrown back. His laugh gonged like a grandfather clock: haaa haaa haaa, the notes ringing out and reverberating through Theo’s chest.

Dae always fought his smiles, stifled his laughter, and kept his volume low. But this—there was no other word for it other than beautiful.

Theo took the dress off and tossed it onto the couch. Dae’s laughter had calmed down, but his smile was still huge, unchecked, and pure.

“What the…?” Theo put his hands on Dae’s shoulders and focused on his face.

“What?” Dae’s fingers wrapped around his wrists to pull them off, but he didn’t, instead keeping a loose hold on him. His hands were a bit rough; calloused from all the drawing. Theo’s own hands drifted to Dae’s neck, holding him in place, focusing on his cheeks. It was stupid and destructive, but the joy overpowered his mind and took control of his body.

“Your dimples.”

Dae’s flushed skin burned under his hands. “You’ve seen them before.”

“Not like this.” It seemed, strangely, that Dae was the one out of breath, the rise and fall of his chest becoming more rapid. Theo should’ve backed away, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from the spot on Dae’s cheek, the memory of his laughter still fresh. “Do you realize the shit you could get away with if you flash these dimples?”

“I don’t give my smiles away as easily as you do.” He pressed his lips together as if he didn’t want to prove himself wrong.

Theo’s next words came out in an awed reverie he hadn’t known he was capable of. “The world would be so much better if you did.”

Dae took a quick breath as if stung. “Don’t say stuff like that.”

He was right. Theo was crossing the line he’d drawn himself and had successfully stayed on the other side of for the better part of a year, only slipping every so often when his mind would wander into a hypothesis about how soft Dae’s lips were. But he was usually able to pull himself together a lot quicker than he currently was.

He told his hands to move, told his thumb to stop gently stroking Dae’s collar bone, told his feet to step out of his orbit. But Dae was studying his face, so he stayed, studying Dae right back, both of them searching for answers to different questions. Maybe Dae’s laugh really had knocked Theo’s soul from his body, because it was moving on its own, drifting closer to him until the fabric of Dae’s t-shirt brushed against the bare skin of Theo’s stomach. His heart practically vibrated at the shock of Dae’s touch, his fingers settling so lightly on Theo’s hip that he could’ve convinced himself it was a breeze.

The question was still in Dae’s eyes as they dipped to his lips. “Theo?”

Was that his name? The word echoed through him, a harsh incantation that snapped his soul back into place. What was he doing? He was Theo. Dae was Dae. Those names together meant something more than skin and racing hearts and almost kisses.

“Fuck.” He stepped back and Dae stumbled forward, as if the gravity of Theo’s near colossal mistake affected his balance.

“Wha…” The question that had been whispered through his eyes was now shouted through his face, his body, his voice. “Theo?”

What had he almost done?

“Really getting into my role,” he said, trying desperately to laugh it away. “How do actors do this?”

Then he jumped into a spiral of manic laughter that Dae didn’t follow him into. How could he? Theo had shifted the energy in the room so completely that he basically slid into an alternate universe, leaving Dae behind in the world they’d occupied together.

The door slammed open and Caleb bounded in. “Perfect!” His grin ate up his whole face when he saw them. “I was hoping someone would be home. Please say you’re in the mood for chicken fingers because the diner on University Ave has a two-for-one special.”

Dae stared at him, seemingly not registering the words. Theo could only imagine what was going on inside him: confusion, hurt, disgust. His otherwise sane best friend had just tried to ruin everything.

“Dae?” Caleb waved a hand in front of his face.

“Sorry.” Dae blinked at him. “What?”

“Chicken fingers?”

“Chicken fingers.” He said the words like they were new. Like he couldn’t conceptualize how they could possibly go together. Then he finally focused on Caleb’s face, then Theo’s, as a silent, desperate panic radiated off him. “Um, I don’t know.”

Theo couldn’t give him what he needed. Couldn’t reassure him. Couldn’t even acknowledge what had just happened. The only thing he could focus on were the words screaming through his body: not you, not for him, not yours, he deserves better.