A/N: So, I moved this past weekend, and we have no internet until Thursday. I'm going to be too busy at home to get any writing done till probably Wednesday night or maybe Thursday, and I don't know how much I'll get written at work because it's been busy. So this is up to current again, and sorry for the wait, but there will be more by this weekend, I promise!

In other news, MOVING SUCKS. UGH. And we only moved a couple blocks, but jeez. Too tired to write anyway for a couple days. :P

Also: Do you love RvB? (duh) Do you know what Happy Endings is? (only the best show ever) Then go to my other Tumblr I run and look at funny pictures! ( (three w's).tumblr (dot com) (slash) blog (slash) happyrvb ) Wow, trying to link anything on here is ridiculous.

Part 60

York rolled over in bed the next morning and hit something warm. He instinctively snuggled up to it and draped his arm over it, sighing lightly.

"Morning, lovely."

His eyes shot open and saw North's face inches from his own, grinning like an idiot. "Gah!"

"Aw, that's not a nice way to wake up," North pouted.

York scooted away and lifted the sheet, seeing that they were both still in their boxers. "Dude, what the hell?"

"Dude, you're the one who snuck into bed with me," North said, laughing as he propped himself up on an elbow. "Nothing happened, don't worry. How's the hangover?"

As he said the word, York's head began to pound with the force of a college drum line. "Fuck."

"There it is."

"Jesus, don't let me drink that much again."

"Yeah, because that's probable."

"How come you don't have a hangover?" York asked with a frown.

North shrugged. "I threw up somewhere around four a.m., so that probably helped."

"Lovely."

"Yup. Want to get breakfast?"

"What the fuck time is it?"

"I dunno, eight?" North craned his neck back to check the clock on the nightstand. "Yeah, eight fifteen. Come on, go shower and we'll get some food."

"Fuck off."

"Fine, I'll shower first. Think Wash will mind if I borrow one of his shirts?"

"Who cares."

"Yeah, he won't mind." North rolled away and sat up, stretching his arms out over his head with a groan. "Man, I just shouldn't drink anymore. I'm an old man now."

"Dude, you're twenty-nine."

"Details." North waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I'm about to be old and married, that's just sad."

"You're excited and you know it," York grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"I suppose."

"Did you call Maine last night?"

"No, but I called him about an hour ago. He apologized first, for leaving so suddenly. There actually wasn't any yelling, surprisingly."

York raised an eyebrow, staring at North's back, trying to focus on anything to quell the raging headache. He noticed a small mole at the lower right of his back and he tried to remember if he'd ever seen it before. "That's good."

"Yeah, we're fine. I'll go home after breakfast."

"Invite Maine along. I bet it'll make you feel better to see him making fun of my stupidity and massive hangover."

"Just so you know, I'm not going to tell him about last night," North replied, turning to look down at York. "Well, not all of it anyway. I'll definitely be telling him some of the shit that you revealed during our game."

York shrugged, pulling the sheet up a little more over his waist. "Doesn't matter to me. Whatever makes you feel better. You know I won't be talking to him about anything anytime soon."

North chuckled. "Yeah, you're right."

"Now go shower." York rolled back onto his side, facing away from North. "I need to get some more sleep. And some water."

"Want me to get you some?"

"Nah, I'll get up in a minute."

"Okay."

"You have a little mole on your back," York muttered, reaching towards his pillow to snuggle it more.

"What?" North twisted around left and right, trying to see it. "Huh. No one's ever said anything. Wonder if that's new?"

"Doubt it. Just thought you'd like to know."

"Thanks. Now I can stress about possibly having cancer."

"Oh, shut up." York closed his eyes, his chin on the pillow. He felt North move around on the bed and a moment later, strong arms were encircling him from behind. "North, what—"

"Just…give me a minute, okay?" North asked quietly, snuggling his chin in the crook between York's neck and shoulder. He was on top of the sheets while York was still covered, hugging the pillow.

York shrugged, which was awkward to do with North's head where it was. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I want to remember this. I know that sounds creepy, but it's nice to have some closure on something from so long ago, you know?"

"Yeah." Actually, he did understand. His mind wandered to the last time he'd seen Carolina, remembering how she felt in his arms that night as they lay in bed, her skin flushed, body trembling as he caressed her arms, before she had pulled away from him, both physically and emotionally.

They remained there for a few minutes, York's back pressed against North's chest, occasionally hearing North's breath hitch.

"Hey, North?"

"Yeah?"

"You love Maine, right?"

He felt the corner of North's cheek move up in a small smile. "Yeah, I do."

"And you're happy?"

A quick nod. "Very."

York hesitated for a brief second before asking, "Do you think I'll ever find my Maine?"

"Honestly?"

"Yeah."

"I think you already have."

York chuckled lightly. "Somehow I knew you'd say that."

"Hey, look at me." North lifted his head slightly and let York roll onto his back, looking up at him with a frown.

"What?"

North shifted a little to adjust his weight on the elbow supporting himself. "You're one of my best friends, York, and I just want you to be happy. I think you know what will make you happy, and I think you should just go for it. Fuck everything else. Fuck whatever everyone else says. Just go for it and don't look back."

"But—"

"No buts, you fucking idiot."

"Hey!"

"Just my opinion. But it's the right one." North grinned at him and York smiled back.

"You should go take a shower now. I just realized how awkward this is," he said, watching North's cheeks turn pink.

"Oh…right." He backed away and climbed out of bed, heading towards the bathroom. York just laughed and stared up at the ceiling, hearing the water start to run.

"I'll stick with coffee, thanks."

The waitress smiled at York and took their menus, hustling back to the kitchen. Maine looked over at York, a small smile cracking his stoic façade.

"Nice outfit."

York glanced down at the oversized hockey jersey he'd grabbed from Wash's closet, and coupled with the khaki shorts that were just an inch too tight, he certainly did make an interesting sight. "Yeah? See something you want?" He wiggled his eyebrows and Maine just shook his head as North laughed.

"Good to see you're not too hung over," North said, reaching for the sugar packets. He tore one open and dumped it into his coffee, stirring it carefully so it wouldn't spill over the lip of the mug.

"Eh, I've been through worse," York replied with a shrug. "You didn't see me after New Year's—I got so drunk I nearly fell down the stairs and broke my leg again."

"Oh, that's why you had that limp for a week, huh?" North sipped his coffee, wincing as it slightly burned his tongue. "Fuck, still too hot."

"Yup." York stirred his own cup of coffee, watching the swirls settle around the silver handle of the spoon before starting back up again, lost in the intricacies of the ripples.

Maine grunted and pushed back his chair, standing up. "York, can I talk to you for a minute? Outside?"

That broke his concentration. He caught North's somewhat panicked look shot towards him as he nodded, standing up slowly. He followed Maine outside and leaned against the outside of the building, trying to look comfortable despite his fear of Maine and the shorts cutting uncomfortably into his sides.

"Yeah?"

"What did you guys talk about last night?" Maine's tone was oddly non-threatening for once, instead sounding curious and somewhat confused.

York shrugged, trying his best to maintain eye contact, even though the sun was directly behind Maine and it was making his headache even worse to stare at him. "Nothing much. Talked about the wedding and stuff, and he feels really bad about the fight and everything, but I'm sure you know that already."

"And while you were drinking?"

"We played a drinking game. I lost horribly. Don't remember much that we talked about. Why?"

Maine frowned. "He's acting…differently this morning. I can't put my finger on it, but he seems…"

"Oddly spry for how much he drank? I know, I'm jealous too."

"That's not it. It's like he's…different. I can't explain it..."

York shrugged. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He looked down at the pavement, rubbing his eyes. He could see sun spots when he blinked, which made him feel nauseous, and he sagged harder against the wall.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." Maine smiled and reached out to punch him lightly in the arm. Well, he'd probably meant to punch lightly, but for York, it was still really painful. "Let's go back inside."

"Sure. You first." York watched him walk back inside and he went over to the large window, looking inside. He saw Maine sit down next to North and lean over to whisper something into his ear, watching North blush and smile, tilting his head to kiss Maine in response.

York was silent, listening to the cars drive by as he watched the two of them, thinking back over all the years he'd spent with North. All their years in college together, sharing a room for four years, having found creative ways around the housing rules of being forced to switch roommates every year (most kids weren't above bribery, they'd figured out). All the times they played video games together, drank together, York joking that they should just get married already, making light of how he knew North occasionally fooled around with guys, but he usually had a girlfriend so it was funny.

Their dynamic changed slightly when they moved out to California and Wash entered the picture. They had a great few months together before York had decided to enlist in the Army, partially out of spite towards his father but also because he had no idea what he wanted to do with his life, and thought maybe getting away from everything would help.

He'd stayed in contact with North and Wash while on leave, and the couple of times a year he'd get to come back to California were some of his brightest memories—Wash insisting on all of them going to football games even though North had zero interest and constantly complained until he got nachos with extra cheese; York getting into wrestling matches with either of them at the drop of a hat in an attempt to prove that he'd gotten stronger, since North used to make fun of his scrawny arms back in college; that one time York had gotten just a little too drunk and snuggled with North in his bed, upset that his father hadn't even bothered to send him a birthday card or call him on his 25th birthday, while Wash and North had planned an extravagant dinner and gotten them all tickets to go to a show in Vegas.

All those moments where maybe, just maybe, North had read a little too much into things, perhaps hoped York felt the same way, realizing every time that nothing was going to happen.

York felt his breath hitch and he leaned against the brick just to the edge of the window. He smiled as he saw North set his hand on the table and say something, and a second later Maine was twisting their fingers together, staring at North as though they were the only ones in the restaurant. York took a deep breath and headed back inside, glad that North had finally been able to find some sort of closure.

Part 61

Carolina dragged herself into the apartment, having already heard Simmons yelling about something from the hallway.

"You can't just eat everything in the apartment, that's completely inconsiderate to everyone else!"

"It was a bag of chips, Simmons, get the fuck over it already!"

"They were my chips, you cockbite, I even labeled them!"

"Oh, was that a warning? I just assumed 'Grif don't eat my chips' applied to Carolina and not me!"

"I fucking hate you!"

"Whoa, whoa," Carolina interrupted, waving her hands in the air as soon as she saw Simmons latched onto Grif, his arm twisted behind his back as he flailed helplessly, the empty bag of chips in his other hand. "Hey! Simmons! Get the fuck off of him!"

Simmons growled and let go of Grif's arm, backing away as Grif whimpered, rubbing his shoulder. "Jesus Christ, Simmons, you nearly dislocated my fucking arm!"

"Good!"

"Okay, stop, you guys never fight this bad, what the fuck is going on?" Carolina said, going over to check on Grif. "This can't possibly be just about chips."

"Grif slept with Lindsay!"

Carolina stared at Simmons, who was literally shaking with rage. She snuck at look at Grif, who'd paled and looked like a kid who'd gotten caught in a massive lie. "Who's Lindsay?"

"My ex-girlfriend!"

"Ex-girlfriend?" Grif snorted, some color flaring back into his cheeks. "Dude, you guys only dated for like, three months, that's more like an extended series of hook-ups. And how the fuck did you find out?"

"I called her because I wanted to get back together with her, but she said she didn't feel right seeing me after you slept with her!"

"It was after you guys broke up! By at least a month! And she was hitting on me all the time whenever you weren't in the room!"

"Yeah, like that would fucking happen!"

Grif took a step towards Simmons, cracking his knuckles. "You wanna fight this out, tough guy? Is that what you want?"

"Fuck you!" Simmons lunged at Grif, who dodged easily despite the size he had on the smaller man. He spun around and grabbed Simmons by the elbow, forcing him down onto the floor, his arm wrenched behind his back, listening to Simmons whimper in pain as Carolina stood frozen in place.

The whole thing had taken maybe three seconds tops. She couldn't believe Grif could even move that fast.

"Shit—stop it!" Carolina shouted, running over to push Grif away from Simmons.

"Are you that pathetic that you can't find a new girl?" Grif said with a grunt, regretting moving so quickly after eating so much.

"I should ask you the same question!"

"Guys, come on, don't fight over something like this," Carolina said, helping Simmons to his feet. He glared at Grif, who was glaring back at him with a twisted grin. "You guys are best friends; don't let a girl ruin that for you."

"Wow, that's rich, coming from you," Grif said, turning his glare towards her.

"Okay." Now Carolina was angry. "Don't even start with me on that. That's not the same thing at all."

Simmons grabbed her arm, stopping her as she tried to move towards Grif, her fist clenched. "Carolina! Look, he didn't mean—"

"I have had just about enough of your guys' shit!" Carolina yelled, pulling out of Simmons' grip. "You make fun of me, you tease me, you disapprove of everything I do, and yet I keep putting up with your shit and listen to you fight like an old married couple and try to make you assholes feel better about your stupid fucking problems!"

"Fuck, wait, what—"

She advanced on Grif, ignoring Simmons behind her trying to hold her back. "If you've got something to say then just fucking say it!"

"Why the fuck are you sleeping with that asshole Church when you should be with that York guy?" Grif hollered, bravely taking a step towards her.

She stopped, her hand frozen in mid-strike. "What?" she said, her voice cracking.

"Come on, you fucking idiot!" Grif started waving his hands to articulate his point. "You're obviously still not over him; I saw how you two were acting the night the big scary guy proposed to the other guy!"

"Grif—" Simmons tried to interrupt, but Grif kept going, oblivious.

"And the night before they left, god, he was about to murder Wash for some reason, and wouldn't stop talking about you! Do you even see what you're doing to the guy? And what about Church, that guy is a dick!" Grif took another step forward, jabbing a finger into her shoulder. "I know I have no say in your life most of the time, but goddamn—you. Are. A. Fucking. Idiot," he said, punctuating every word with a stab of his hand.

Carolina dropped her hand, still staring at Grif. "You…you're right." She felt Simmons' hand on her arm and she didn't shrug it off right away. "You're absolutely right," she said, narrowing her eyes. "You don't have any say in my life."

"What?" Grif squeaked, his bravado having vanished.

"I can date whoever the fuck I want, and I don't need you or anyone else telling me otherwise!" she exploded, pushing Grif in the chest with the palm of her hand as Simmons let go of her. "I told York, I told him that I loved him and he just stopped trying!"

"Maybe because you keep sending mixed signals!" Simmons cut in, gulping as she glared back at him. "You told him you wanted to be with him?"

"Yeah, I—" She thought for a moment, and then frowned. "Well, I guess…I just said I loved him, but…he always tried—"

"So you said you loved him, and then you just decided to wait around for him to make another move?" Simmons shook his head. "God, Grif is right—you are a fucking idiot, Carolina."

She glared at him. "I don't—I'm not—"

"You've really got some thinking to do," Simmons continued, folding his arms over his chest. "And you," he directed at Grif, who flinched, "you and I need to have a fucking talk. If you can be civil, I will be too."

"Uh…"

Carolina left them in the living room and retreated into her bedroom, opening up her laptop on her desk. After it booted up she stared at her background of the ocean, thinking for a moment before opening her internet browser.

"Are you sure this is okay?" Church set his bag down on the ground and glanced around.

Carolina nodded, slipping her hand into his. "Yeah. I think it'll be good for both of us."

"What exactly are you implying?"

"That you're too fucking pale," she replied. "Some real sun will do you good."

Church sighed, running a hand through his hair. He needed a haircut; it was getting a little too shaggy for his taste. "Fine. But I'm not going swimming in the ocean. There's fucking jellyfish and shit in there and they freak me out."

"Deal." She squeezed his hand as the boarding desk announced that their section was boarding. Church grinned and grabbed his bag with his other hand, pulling her towards the group of people merging into a giant line to get onto the plane.