~Prologue~

My dad was a busy man. Of this, there was no doubt.

He worked from dawn until dusk. With each pay raise, his desk job slowly consumed his life. There were times he couldn't come home, but for the most part, he was still the fun-loving dad who'd sneak me a fifty when I asked him for a new skateboard (Now Nessie, don't tell your mother) and stayed a die-hard Onett GIants fan at any given day of the week. No matter the time, he'd be down to watch a good game of college baseball, and cheered along with me every time the Giants scored a homerun.

Then my dad's absences grew. Work picked up. First, it was a new collab. Then, it was drinking out with colleagues. Then, crashing at the office to finish up a project. It was always something. Something, somewhere. Excuse after excuse.

No honey, I can't come home today, he'd apologize to my mom over the phone.

I began to feel uneasy.

Then one lazy day in March, my dad brought us over to Onett's finest Steak Diner. His company wanted to celebrate his latest promotion, and encouraged him to invite his family over to dinner. Surrounded by his colleagues and a doting wife, to any outsider, my dad seemed like the happiest man on the earth. He'd even kissed my mom on the cheek, the first time I'd seen in a long while, and she'd laughed like they were still an embarrassingly-giddy high school couple.

During dinner, one of my dad's colleagues caught my eye. Nothing about him was unusual. He was ordinary enough. Just another face in the crowd.

I don't know what tipped me off first: the furtive glances my dad kept shooting at the man, or the way dad's empathy link kept twisting itself into a tongue-tied knot.

The man never spoke a word to my dad throughout the entire meal.

And her eyes shining with pride, my Mom was too happy to have realized the nervous way Dad would swallow down his food. She was oblivious to something else troubling my dad that night.

When the colleague suddenly excused himself, grabbing his belongings and halfheartedly muttering an excuse to leave, Dad had instinctively risen from his seat as if to bumble after him. As if to stop him from leaving. But the fleeting moment passed, and Dad sank back down into his seat, brushing off the awkward moment with a forced smile and a swift conversation changer. His disappointment tugged on my mind, but when my smiling mom pulled him into another conversation, Dad pulled up his cheerful front and affectionately kissed her on the nose.

My stomach lurched. All of a sudden, the food in front of my plate no longer seemed so appetizing, and nothing could take away the heavy weight sinking into my chest.

That was when I knew.

The life my Dad had led had been a lie.

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~Chapter 19~

It Sucks to be Gay

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"You two are dating? I knew it! I fucking knew it!"

"Why do you sound more excited than I do?" I ask, but hearing my sister's happy squealing has made me smile in spite of myself.

From the other line, I hear a clear scoff, and can almost see Tracy wiping a imaginary tear away from her eye. "My big brother is no longer stuck in single hell," she says giddily. "You have no idea how happy I am for you... and for me," she adds as an afterthought. "Now everyone at school can quit asking me if you're single and bug me for your number." Her voice rises into a hyperactive yell. "Because... YOU'RE FINALLY TAKEN!"

I give a laugh, and scratch the back of my neck. "Well... this doesn't count. We're fake-dating-"

"Right," Tracy says smugly. "Fake-dating. Still counts."

"Hush, you. We're only supposed to keep up the act until next month, so don't tell anyone-"

Tracy snickers, and the sound crackles across the receiver. "You can stop right there, brother. You know, I'm starting to feel bad for Lucas. He's going to have to deal with you trying to smooch him all the time-"

"Why does everyone keep thinking that? What kind of weirdo do you take me for?" I wail, and Tracy bursts into uncontrollable giggling. "Lucas agreed to keep up the act, he knows it's not gonna go anywhere, and we've made it pretty clear to each other that we're just friends!"

"Save the grand act for the cameras, big brother. You two are going to be super gross and huggy-"

I can't help but burst into laughter at this. "Lucas? Huggy? He hates hugs!"

"Yeah, the only person I've ever seen him willingly hug is Mom," Tracy laughs along. "He doesn't strike me as someone who likes to be touched. Still, when he seems comfortable about hanging around you, I don't know how he does it. Like, you look all badass and tough fighting on-screen, but in real life, you're all cheesy and sappy and uncool-"

"Again, I repeat, what is that supposed to mean?!" I say indignantly.

"It means that my big brother's in love," Tracy says happily. "Oh man, Mom's gonna be over the moon when you tell her that the rumors are true."

Lucas rejected me three weeks ago, I want to say, but Tracy sounds so happy for me that I can't muster the courage to burst her bubble. Thankfully, Tracy changes the topic to her finals, and I listen to her gripe over her graded chemistry exam (One point! I was ONE point away from a perfect score!) before she hands the phone over to my mom.

"Hi sweetie," she says once Tracy has flounced away. "Did you eat yet?"

"Not yet. I just woke up. I'm calling you from the living room because Lucas is-" I glance at the bedroom, but it's as quiet as it appears. "Yeah, he's still in bed."

"Then don't disturb him," she admonishes me.

"I'm not," I whine.

"You can't be too careful, young man. If you rush into things, you'll scare your boyfriend away."

I choke. "H-How did you-"

"It's not rocket science. You've stuck to Lucas since elementary school," my mom says impatiently, and when I sputter in defense, my mom continues to grill me, "And the media has gone nuts! Ai, ai, ai. Ness, you troublemaker! You need to take good care of your boyfriend, or he'll dump you-"

"Mom, Lucas won't dump me just because I woke him up," I mumble, suddenly hot and red-faced. Talking to mom about my boyfriend, fake or real, was in no way NOT awkward.

My mom tuts in disapproval. "You're not off the hook yet, young man. I can't believe you never told me about your relationship before it turned public! What do you think I'm going to do, kick you out on the streets? Disown you?"

"I was gonna tell you, but I never found the right time," I plead. "Mom, I swear I was going to tell you at some point! Really!"

"Well, if you're finally making it official, bring Lucas over for Christmas. I want to speak to him too."

"But you already know him-"

"You haven't introduced me to him as your boyfriend. If this is official, I want to make this official," Mom says sternly. "Has Lucas introduced you to his parents?"

Exasperated, I throw my hands up into the air. "Mom, aren't we going a little too fast? We've literally just started dating each other-"

"Nessie."

Dreading the lecture, I meekly bury my face into my hands. "No, he hasn't."

Mom's temper doesn't disappoint. "What were you thinking, making this public before telling his parents! Did you think it'd stay a secret forever?!" she bursts out, aghast. "You're dating their son, and you've kept it hidden all this time? Ness! That is bad. Very bad manners. If they're accepting parents who care about their child, they'll want to know whom their son is dating. I know it's complicated because you're both boys, but that's no excuse for your poor manners! If Lucas's parents are okay with it, you should pay them your respects this instant, you hear me, young man?"

I wilt into my seat. "Fine, I'll let them know."

"Good." There's a clicking noise - my mom's on her desktop. I can imagine her in dad's old study with a mug of peppermint tea in one hand and a computer mouse in the other. "And Ness, I've added a twenty-pack box of lubed Trojans to my cart on Amazon Prime-"

"Mom, I don't need those!" I wail.

"-and I'm sending them over just in case-"

"Mom!"

"-because safe sex is very important," my mom finishes as if I'm not being embarrassed to death, and I'm starting to get the feeling that she's secretly enjoying herself at my expense. "But remember, no sex until you are married."

"Then why are you sending over condoms?!"

"Good luck on your match tomorrow! We miss you so," Mom says earnestly before hanging up on me.

Click.

"Goddamn it," I cry out, tossing my phone onto the table and gripping my suddenly-aching temples. My mom's no doubt the sweetest person in the whole wide world, but why does she find the constant need to embarrass me? WHY? I hit my head against the table in rhythm with my words. "My. Mom. She. AUGH!"

"What did she do," A voice asks, and I shriek, jumping halfway out of my seat. Lit against the doorway, Lucas stifles a yawn, pulling his shirt down.

I scramble to my feet. "Shit, did I wake you?"

"Nah. I was up. Just trying out flappy bird." Noticing my horribly mortified face, Lucas raises his eyebrows in growing curiosity, and I can only hope that he hasn't heard about my mom's ridiculous Amazon order over the phone. Silently, I vow to give away the box to Popo. I have no desire to open that box now, and it's better off in hands that need it more than I do.

"You do look a little ill," he says, concerned.

I swallow hard. "I might be." Once I tell him about my mom's request, Lucas's face instantly pales into the color of sour milk.

"Your mom... wants to see me?" Lucas croaks, and if I can hear the question mark in his voice, it must speak volumes about his nerves.

"She won't grill you."

Numbly groping around for a chair, Lucas sits down and leans over his knees. "I don't know, Ness."

"Trust me, she's okay with it," I assure him. "And we'll have plenty of time to worry about it after the Championships-"

"When does she want to see me?"

I give a nervous laugh. "Christmas morning...?" Catching his stricken expression, I flail my hands around in the hopes that Lucas won't panic. "It's no big deal! She probably wants to catch up and eat breakfast with us. You've always been invited to celebrate the holidays with our family."

"Not like this though. I mean, we're...," Lucas pauses as if struggling with the thought. "She thinks that we're dating."

"Yeah."

"And your mom is really okay with that?"

I grimace. "I told her earlier that we weren't really in a relationship, but you know, parents. We're gonna break up in a month, so if she asks, I guess just go along with it."

Lucas swallows. "That's not reassuring, Ness."

"My mom's cool with it. She only had trouble coming to terms with it at first. I'm surprised that she's coping with it pretty well." I laugh quietly under my breath. "A month ago, my mom caught my dad cheating on her with another guy. Turns out, my dad had been hiding in the closet the entire time. I just wish he came clean with my mom from the beginning."

"I can imagine," Lucas says quietly.

"Nah, we're better off without him in our lives." I give him a furtive side glance. "By the way - DON'T YOU DARE TELL HIM THIS - but I'm glad Popo gave me that final push out. I hated being stuck in the closet, and Popo knew that I was agonizing over it-"

"He did?"

"I'm still bi," I say honestly. "I think that's why my mom took in the news better."

Lucas shifts over uncomfortably. "You should be more careful around Popo."

"Popo? He's a big doofus-"

"I don't trust him."

"I know! Seriously!" I scowl. "Remind me to murder him when this entire thing blows over."

To my delight, this puts a ghost of a smile on Lucas's face. "Duly noted."

I glance at him, and notice that Lucas has faithfully returned to playing Flappy Bird on his phone. "You're taking all of this in awfully well," I comment, and Lucas gives a funny spasm that resembles a shrug. Grinning like an idiot, I sit down next to him.

"Your hair's getting long," he comments offhandedly.

"-We should tell your dad."

Lucas's phone screen sadly trills with a GAME OVER. I can feel his unease ripple through our empathy link. "Why."

"Since everyone thinks that we're together, my mom says that we should come clean to our parents-"

"We're not telling my dad."

"Lucas, it's all over the news. Your dad's got to be stupid if he doesn't think that we've been dating under his nose. If I don't at least tell him, he's gonna murder me," I wail, but pleading the fifth doesn't do squat.

"He doesn't have to know," Lucas says tersely.

"We could at least tell him this is a joke-"

"I'll tell him later. I don't think my..." Lucas swallows. "I don't think he'll understand." He sounds uneasy, so I drop the subject. Now that he's mentioned it, I don't think we've discussed if his dad's okay with this fake relationship. My heart sinks. It's taken my mom a little time, a few days at the very least, but I've taken both of my parents for granted. For all I know, Lucas's dad might not be as accommodating to the thought of his son being not-so-straight, and reminded of the AK47 shoved into my face, I shudder. Something about Lucas's tone implies that I'll get more than a rifle to the face the next time I bump into his dad.

But this also makes me feel like shit, because I've pretty much pulled Lucas out of the frying pan and into the fire. Dammit, I knew I shouldn't have pulled out this wild card!

"We can change plans," I offer, but Lucas shakes his head.

"No, no, this is okay," he says quickly. "I just have to figure out what to tell him. But we're not meeting him now."

"That's fine," I say firmly, and when Lucas looks noticeably relieved, I give him what I hope is a reassuring squeeze of his hand. "Last day. You ready to train?"

Lucas gestures at his pajama pants. "Let me get dressed first."

"That's a fashion statement if I ever saw one," I say seriously, and rolling his eyes in good humor, Lucas trudges into the bathroom. As I wait for him to finish up, my phone chirps with an email notification. I swallow, recognizing the name of the contact.

One message. From my dad.

As rueful I was with Popo for kicking me out of the closet, if there was one Greater Good that resulted from this entire mess, it was the relief that came along with it. I no longer had to lie. I no longer had to pretend to be someone I was not. Coming out had lifted a great weight from my chest, because I'd finally come to terms with myself. It was no longer my burden to carry.

Grudgingly, I think a part of me could understand why my dad left. By the time he'd come to terms with himself, he was too late, already several years too deep into a marriage with kids. Unwilling to hurt my mom's feelings, he'd tried pushing the secret down in the hopes that she'd never find out.

Except that he couldn't bear to live a lie forever.

In hindsight, my parents wouldn't have stayed together for long. The divorce was probably for the best, though that didn't make me resent my dad any less. I wished he hadn't dragged it out with my mom. Coming out of the closet was one thing, but having an affair with someone else behind her back was the stupidest move he could've pulled.

And the weirdest part? How surreal this whole thing still feels. Some days I wake up, and feel as if my parents' divorce never happened. That my dad hadn't stormed out of our house a month ago, fists clenched and teary-eyed. That he hadn't cut off all connection with us.

Yet, in a way, he hadn't. He'd kept in touch. He'd sent Tracy a pair of pretty earrings last week to congratulate her on her good grades, and even now, I receive random notifications about strange deposits of dollar bills sitting in my bank account.

Then there's this gold nugget in my email inbox.

I'm here if you want to talk.

It's funny how a seven word sentence kept me thinking all morning. One email. Seven words. Dated at 9:22 AM. Dad sent this email in during work. He's always terribly busy, holed up in his tiny-ass cubicle and slaving away at the usual nine-to-five-plus-overtime, but somehow, he's found the time to type this up. It's just a measly seven words, but again, HE DIDN'T HAVE TO SEND ME ANYTHING. No doubt he's heard about the shitshow that was my PREVIEW interview, but none of that should've mattered to him. He could've ignored me. He could've tried caring less.

I wish he was easier to hate.

But as much as I've tried, hating's never been my forte. Sure, I groan and gripe a lot about people, but none of my complaints are a result of some deep-seated root of ill-will. People make mistakes. We've all derped up at some point, and we've all done something stupid at least once in our lives. Forgive and forget. Move on.

Then Lucas ambles over, fully dressed in his t-shirt and jeans. "You ready," he asks, and I pocket my phone. One thing at a time. Tomorrow's the Championships. I can figure out messy family stuff later.

For now, I'm just glad I have this idiot next to me.

I slug Lucas in the shoulder. "Let's go."

Lucas's mouth quirks up into a hint of a smirk, so I roll my eyes and fumble for his hand. We've agreed on hand-holding to keep up pretenses, but fake relationship aside, today simply feels like another part of the daily grind. That's another plus about Lucas: he's an awkward dork, but he's awkward for all the right reasons.

Even under times of duress, the sense of normalcy he's given me is amazing.

Slowly, Lucas squeezes my hand back, and - even if it doesn't mean shit - I feel myself grinning widely like an idiot. Still, there's a part of my chest that aches - because as much I want it, it's never going to happen - but this is good enough. If we fake this relationship long enough, long enough for Lucina to make up with her dad, maybe for once, everything will work out. My feelings will fade. As loathe as I am to admit it, Popo has pegged one thing right - there's plenty of fish in the sea.

But holding Lucas's hand in mine, it's hard to deny it: I've never wanted anyone else so much in my life.

We head down to the training rooms. Occasionally, Smashers hurry across our path, and catching sight of our held hands, oddly fall silent.

And just like that, the teasing dies down. It's as if everyone's accepted the fact that we're dating, so quickly, so easily. Which is crazy when you think about it. You'd think that at least one person would call us out on our bogus, especially since Lucas is top tier on the list of QUESTIONABLY ASEXUAL and HARDEST PERSON TO ASK OUT ON A DATE EVER, but what the heck, I'll gladly take any excuse if it means no more cat-calling.

"I can't believe you ditched me in the Singles Club," Popo mourns, pretending to sob on my shoulder during breakfast, and runs off cackling when I punch him in the shoulder.

I guess Lucas was right. I react to everything too easily. Okay, maybe A LITTLE too easily. Most of the Smashers probably wanted to rile me up for their own amusement, and for some goddamn reason, everyone likes seeing me get flustered. I don't get it. Apparently my embarrassment is... entertaining? Well, that's good to know. I can almost see myself through their eyes: Up next on five, we have the walking talking Dinner Entertainment: Ness the One-man show. Oh yeah, they'd love it for sure.

That said, the Championships are tomorrow. Everyone's wrapping their strategies up. No time to gawk over who's dating who. Thank. Fucking. Palutena.

So Lucas and I spend the morning beating up CPUs.

If I have to be completely honest here, I'm worried about our performance. Over the past few weeks, we've trained, but we haven't exactly trained together. Since our practice match against Fox, I can't recall the last time Lucas has shared his telepathy with me. I can't even recall the last time he's even used it, which sucks because I can't always predict what move he's about to pull before he calls it out, and in a battle where one second could mean life or death, telepathy is gold.

So I bring it up to him.

And Lucas instantly shoots me down.

What. The Hell. Lucas never had a problem with sharing his thoughts with me on the battlefield before. I mean, it's not a huge deal, we can always call out to each other during a brawl, but Lucas's sudden vehemence strikes me as odd. Come to think of it, he's had a difficult time with all of his powers lately. If that isn't weird, I don't know what is.

So when Lucas sweeps his hands, but flusters, failing to produce his fifth PK Fire, I decide to intervene. "What's up?" I ask him, concerned.

Lucas shakes his head, bent double over his knees. "I don't... I don't know."

"Are you feeling nervous?"

"A little."

I immediately understand. Psychic powers sound all super cool and awesome and whoosh!, but only if they work. Since our powers depend on our mental state, any emotional upheaval can make controlling our powers difficult. I think of the weeks before, of my crush on Lucas and how my empathy link went crazy, and it's all I can do not to groan and bury my face into my hands out of mortification. Stupid hormones.

In short, puberty sucks, and being gay sucks. Or bi. Whatever.

"Maybe you should take a break," I say firmly, and while Lucas looks less than happy to take a breather, I convince him to get some water. I don't fault him. He's nervous, because who else in the whole wide world would ever pretend to date their same sex friend in front of the press for like, FOREVER? Exactly. Truth be told, I'd be pretty surprised if Lucas wasn't nervous. So when he leaves the room, I've realized that I've lost my one-and-only sparring partner for the next couple of minutes.

Well.

Now what.

Somewhere in the corner of my mind, there's a voice nagging me to make up lost time to train, train, train but hardcore cramming would only be detrimental to my performance. Trust me, I've learned the hard way that resting well is also an important part of conquering tournaments.

A flash of green catches my eye, and I jolt back up to my feet, because I've just spotted the one person whom I've wanted see. I burst out of my training room yelling his name just as he walks by.

Link turns around in surprise. "Ness?"

"I need to ask you something real quick," I hurriedly say, antsy on my feet. "Can we go talk somewhere private? If you're not busy."

When Link gives an uncertain glance at Zelda, who returns the look with an encouraging nod and a squeeze on his arm before brushing past both of us, he turns to me with a smile. "Sure thing. Lead the way."

We end up in one of the unused training rooms. I close the door and turn to face Link nervously, and he uncrosses his braced arms to let them hang loosely at his sides. "What's up?"

"I have a question I was hoping you could answer-" I nervously glance around in case of any eavesdroppers. "-about relationships."

At this, Link laughs kindly. "No guarantees, but I'll do my best."

My heart gives a pang. "It's a lot more complicated than you think-"

"It's a little too early to tell, but I'd say that you're doing just fine," he grins, indicating towards the door with his head. "I'm glad that you're trying to take this seriously."

Not if the relationship is a fucking joke, I want to say, but I can't afford to blow our cover, and even if I maybe wanted to, Link's expression does me in. He looks so pleased over our recent development that I can't exactly find the will to kame-hame-ha his hopes to pieces and ask him for advice on my predicament.

Curse my soft heart.

"So what did you need me for?" Link's curious voice pokes into my ears, and I snap out of it with a jolt. Well shit, if I can't tell him the truth, then I'd better BS another question on the spot.

"I-I was wondering," I squeak, then hastily clear my throat of nerves. "How... How the hell do you fucking relationship?"

Link shoots me a sly look, and for some stupid reason, my face starts to heat up because I'm not actually dating Lucas, and even if I were, that was a pretty fucking stupid question to ask. How the hell do you fucking relationship? Really? Out of all the questions in the world, I chose the most useless one to ask. I might as well have asked Link how the fuck to fly.

Thankfully, Link doesn't point out my lapse in stupidity. "Well, you know him-"

"Uh, not really."

"You've known him for a while," Link corrects himself. "You enjoy his company, so start off by hanging out with him more often. Go to the movies. Grab lunch together."

Okay, so stuff we already do. Easy stuff.

Cool.

I relax. This admittedly makes me even more curious about Link's lasting relationship with Zelda, because it's so goddamn perfect. They're not just a power couple - they're THE power couple of SMASH history - and it's easy to see why. Each one of them is a talented all-star, but together, they're so super modest about their exploits that it humbles everyone else to shame. I'd seriously consider converting if someone told me they were some ancient descendant of the holy messiah.

Of course, because I clearly can't keep my mouth shut, this compels me to ask another intrusive question. "What did you do on your first date?"

"I fought Ganondorf." When I give Link a wary look, Link gives me a sheepish laugh. "Right. At any rate, context applies. I suggest you not to beat up my arch-nemesis. I don't think that'd earn you any favors from your boyfriend." With a small hmm of thought, Link claps a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Then... be yourself."

"Really?" I blurt out before my sarcasm filter can catch up with my mouth. Embarrassed, I shut up, and Link's grin widens.

"Yes, really."

"I don't know how to do that," I lament. "I don't even know how to act around him-"

"Don't overcomplicate it. If you really like him, then it'll show naturally." To my own mortification, my cheeks flare up, and Link grins. "Yep, just like that. Well, I hope you found this talk useful, but in all honesty, I think you've got this one right in the bag."

When Link apologetically straps on his leg braces, I know that the conversation is over. Sure enough, he says, "I think I've left poor Zelda waiting for me long enough. Remember, be yourself, take the relationship seriously, and you'll be fine. Don't slack off on the Championships, all right?" He pats my dumbstruck form in the back before walking out, and realizing that Lucas has probably returned from his detour, I quickly hurry back to our training room.

"Shit, sorry, I lost track of time," I swear when I spot Lucas practicing against a CPU Marth.

"I just got back. You didn't miss much," Lucas says absentmindedly, blocking another sword strike, and my chest aches. Then the depression suddenly sinks in, and I guess Link's words have really hit home because I know I want something that I clearly can't have.

Worse still, when we wrap up our training session and notice Lucina and Pittoo training together on the way out, looking tired but perfectly okay, it makes me feel stupid for panicking and asking Lucas out on a fake relationship. Once again, to no one's surprise, Lucas was right. Lucina CAN take care of herself.

I close my mouth in shame. What was I thinking? I need to start thinking before diving headfirst into something, I really do, because this can seriously have dire consequences. I hate lying, I can't lie to save my life, but now I've found myself stuck in a bear trap with a nice fucking bow on top. Faking a relationship? Without Lucas figuring out my crush on him? I've really put my foot in my mouth this time.

But when we hear raised voices, Lucas and I barely have time to exchange a glance before Chrom storms out of the training rooms, seething with a rapidly pleading Robyn in tow. A second later, Lucina darts into the hallway, eyes red from crying, but when she spots me, and somehow manages to offer a small smile that lightens up the bags underneath her eyes before hurrying away, I find myself not regretting my decision.

I feel for her. I really do.

Still, there's fleeting looks and whispers when Lucas and I sit in for lunch, so I elbow Lucas in the ribs and mutter for a better change of scenery. Thankfully, he agrees and silently follows me to the penthouse.

Stepping off the elevator, the first thing that hits me is the view. We can see every inch of the entire metropolis over the edge. It's a wonder why no one comes up here to eat for lunch. Guess old habits die hard.

"Wow," I breathe.

Lucas looks over my shoulder, and wrinkles his nose. "There's no trees," he says, as if the very thought of no greenery is offensive to his eyes.

"There's one up here," I point out, dragging him towards the shade. We end up sitting in a small, secluded corner across from the swimming pool. It makes a nice change from the noise of the cafeteria, and Lucas has just started eyeing his own unwrapped sandwich with interest when I suddenly remember something very important.

"What about the dare?" Lucas asks vaguely when I bring it up.

"You lost. Doesn't that mean I get to dare you back?"

Realization quickly flashes across Lucas's face before crawling down his neck in a deep flush. "It wasn't an actual dare," he says lamely.

"Don't give me that shitty excuse," I grin, glancing at his now beet-red face. "You said that I couldn't kiss you, and I did!"

"I didn't think you'd do it," he says exasperated.

"But I did." My grin widens. "Now it's my turn."

Lucas sighs, lowering his sandwich. "Fine. What's your dare."

I bite down on my lip. I want to kiss him. Even more, I want him to kiss me, but there's no way Lucas is ever going to continue a Part Two of the kissing competition in a million fucking years, and I know better than to ask.

So I take the time to study him. Lucas quickly averts his eyes under my scrutiny, and I notice that his flush has spread to the back of his arms. He's embarrassed, and for some reason, that makes me want to touch him even more. I wonder if his face feels as hot as it looks, and I dig my fingers into my palms before I can do something I'll regret.

My empathy link tingles.

"I want you," I say quietly.

Lucas's face turns the deepest shade of crimson I've ever seen. "Th-that's, uh, that's not a dare-"

"-to give me a hug! Giving someone a good hug is a lot harder than it sounds!" I blurt out quickly, feeling my cheeks spike up in warmth. Damn it, can I go one minute without almost blowing my own cover? "So I dare you to hug me. As friends."

Lucas quickly nods. "Right. As friends."

Recognizing his own embarrassment gives me the courage to laugh and open my arms. "Go on," I say, grinning.

Lucas hesitantly lifts his own arms up like a zombie sleep walker. He looks as awkward as hell. "I don't... I don't know how to h-hug-" he stammers.

A fucking wide grin rests on my face, and I drop my arms. "Then I win!" I crow. "That's two dares for me!"

"You haven't won yet," Lucas insists stubbornly, furrowing his brow as if thinking how the hell to hug someone, and I grin because I know Lucas hates losing as much as I do. He practices making a few attempts at a weird, half-baked scooping gesture in midair before his shoulders slump over in defeat. "Um..."

I take pity on him, and gently steer one of his awkwardly hovering hands over one of my shoulders. "Drape your other arm over my other shoulder," I command, and Lucas hesitantly reaches out with his other hand. My skin tingles where his palm tentatively brushes against the top of my shoulder, before Lucas slowly slides his whole arm over.

"Is this good?" he asks.

I glance at his face. There's still a good foot between us. Lucas's arms are as rigid as two rods, and his back is as stiff as a ruler. Catching his lost deer-in-the-headlights expression, I duck my head in a snort of laughter. "You don't like hugs, do you?"

Lucas sheepishly drops his eyes. "My brother's always been the better hugger."

"You can't be better at hugging. That's like arguing who's better at walking or who's better at breathing," I declare, and Lucas cracks a small smile at that. When I shift in to close the gap, Lucas flusters and scoots back at the same pace. Taking that as a cue for his discomfort, I stop. "This is one weirdass hug, but I'll take it," I grin, shaking his arms off and looking up at his face. "Now, we're even."

Lucas plaintively pushes his hand into my laughing face. "I told you I don't hug people."

"I think you hug just fine," I say honestly.

Red-faced, Lucas drops his eyes and unwraps his sandwich.

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~oO0Oo~

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It's almost early evening when Lucas and I trail back down from the penthouse. Today's the day before D-Day, and everyone's lazily sprawled out in the lobby watching Captain Falcon's giant-set Plasma TV. I realize that Link and Zelda are cuddled up together in one of the giant sofas, and when Link murmurs and kisses Zelda lightly on her hair, my heart gives a sudden pang. Link, Zelda, Lucina, Pittoo... all of these couples look so happy, so genuinely happy, that it makes me feel jealous.

Then I feel like a horrible prick for begrudging them of their happiness, and my heart sinks. I don't know what's more pathetic, the fact that I can't get over my own feelings, or how selfish I've been for stringing Lucas along on this stupid plan. The more I touch him, the more I hold his hand... the more I want him. But I can't because Lucas is my friend, and I've got to make that pretty clear.

A rejection is a rejection, and I know better than to cross that line.

So I grin and nudge Lucas towards a spare inch of floor, and he dutifully sits down. No one calls us out. It's fucking noisy everywhere, but it's the good kind of noisy that thrums through my bones and makes me feel alive.

A fuming Pittoo squeezes past us with Lucina, ranting all the while, "-you hear that? The reporter. Called me. A fucking clone. I'll show him what a clone is!"

"Still in denial?" Ganondorf asks, an amused smile curling up at the corners of his mouth, and Pittoo flips him the bird before Lucina rolls her eyes and ushers her boyfriend away to the elevators.

"A night like this calls for a good beer," Captain Falcon cheerfully declares, raising a treasure six-pack. "Who's up for some Dos Equis?"

Pit nervously eyes the six-pack. "Captain, I don't think we're allowed to drink during the games-"

"It's the day before, Pit. Let him pregame," Samus says nonchalantly, flicking dust off her suit.

Captain Falcon beams at her. "Samus-"

"Buddy boy," she says, smirking. "Bayonetta and I are going to destroy you in the first round."

This leads to a chorus of 'Oooohs' and a 'she just called you out, son!'

Captain Falcon roars with laughter. "Not likely, Sam. I bet Olimar and I can take you two ladies downtown."

"Oh, I'm sure that we'd put up a good fight," Olimar says reasonably. A crowd of Pikmin bob around him, chirping incessantly in terror of the booming TV, and when Olimar kindly leads them away from the speakers, a dark six inch heel grinds itself in front of the plasma screen.

"Hit me up, darling," Bayonetta purrs underneath her sexy hooded eyelashes, and crowing out a Stay thirsty, my friends, Captain Falcon begins handing out bottles to everyone in the crowd.

"Captain, you got any for me?"

"None for the minors, I'm afraid," Captain Falcon says joyously.

"But I'm turning eighteen in a month," Popo moans. "Take pity, Cap."

"Sorry, Popo. I'm a speedster, but rules are rules. Master Hand would have my head faster than Sonic could loop around the Mansion."

"Um, excuse me? I bet I could beat that claim," Sonic retorts.

Then a loud tune blasts our ears, and the Sports Channel blares onto the screen.

"Good evening again, Smash City! This is Mii reporter, Tom, signing in live from Sports News. Here tonight joining me is retired boxing champion and professional athlete trainer, Jerome Louis. Nice to have you on the show today, Doc."

"Nah, the pleasure's mine."

"Hey, Lil' Mac, it's Doc Louis!" Roy yells, delighted, and everyone shushes him.

"Looks like we've got a number of people already crowding the City Square, all ready and fired up for the Winter Championships tomorrow. Say, Doc, what do you think of the Round One match ups?"

"Hoo baby, this year's match-ups look as sweet as Hershey's chocolate. Lil' Mac's got some tough competition for sure. Remember, Mac baby, you gotta move fast. Quick feet, Mac! Quick feet!"

"Wow, talk about favoritism, Doc."

"I try, I do try."

"It looks like we've got some promising match-ups. Last year's winners, Nana and Popo, better watch their backs, because it's going to be one fierce competition."

"I'm curious to see how far Bayonetta and Samus can advance through the rankings."

"You bet, Doc! And since Meta Knight's forfeited the competition for the second time round, Dedede's paired with Kirby for the time being."

"Interesting match-up, very interesting! Now, many people don't take the Winter Championships as seriously as the solo battles in the summer, but I think it's fun to see how well these wacky pairings work."

"Speaking of wacky pairings, Doc, let's talk about the sixth match up on Round One: Marth and Roy versus Ness and Lucas."

I involuntarily grip Lucas's hand tighter, but thankfully, Lucas doesn't notice, his eyes glued to the TV screen.

"More like Fire Emblem versus Earthbound if yeh ask me."

"Tell me about it. Doc, despite criticism from online gaming forums, I'd like to think that it's an even match."

"You know, I agree. Both are experienced teams that have consistently placed in the top five. A favorable stage pick can give a huge edge to either side."

"Doc, if you were Marth and Roy, what would you fear most from the psychic duo?"

"Aside from their telepathic powers? Hard to say, Tom. Lucas has a good combo, but Ness has an easier kill. While Lucas's PK Fire pushes opponents away - good for spacing! - Ness's PK Fire is a deadly trap. But I think Marth and Roy have a smashin good chance of victory."

"Really?"

"I think Team Fire Emblem's biggest arsenal is Marth's range. His grabs make it difficult for his opponents to space and easy for Marth to gimp. A small stage pick like Yoshi's Island can spell disaster for Ness and Lucas."

"You bet, doc! Everybody, stay tuned for the match tomorrow at eleven. We'll discuss the next Round - Villager and Red versus Mewtwo and Lucario - after these commercials."

The TV starts off with a savage Wendy's commercial, and everyone dissolves back into frustrated complaints.

"Aw man-"

"That segment was even shorter than the last one-"

I laugh and turn around. "Hey, Lucas, what did you think about-" I blink, confused at the empty space next to me. "Lucas?" I turn around again, but Lucas is nowhere in sight. Where has he slipped off to? And how the bloody hell did I not notice?!

A less-than-happy sight greets me instead. "Lost your boyfriend?" Popo drawls, his eyes alit with a teasing tone.

"He was just here a second ago," I grumble, pushing Popo out of the way. "Now move, you're blocking my way-"

"Wow, rude," Popo says lightly, rolling his eyes. "He was headed off to the bathrooms. Thank you, and you're welcome."

Muttering a grudging thanks underneath my breath (Popo shoots me a smirk that I'm tempted to wipe off with my fist), I trudge off. In hindsight, I probably could've waited for Lucas to come back to the lobby, but I'm bursting to tell him what he's missed from the program. So when I skid to a halt by the restrooms and have just rested my palms against the door, the sound of my name stops me dead in my tracks.

"-facing pressure from your dad."

"Ness already has enough on his plate without worrying about me."

"If it's any consolation, Lucas, I'm sure that Ness is feeling just as scared over this relationship as you are," the voice says kindly, and I quickly recognize it as Link's. "I know that neither of you are experienced, and while it's okay to be afraid, communication is key to maintaining a good relationship."

"I turned him down before-"

"Because you weren't ready for a relationship, and you let him know. Talk to him," Link adds sternly, and I can imagine Lucas closing his mouth. "I can't stress how important communication is. You need to be sure that you're both on the same page, and it's not fair to the other person if you leave them hanging."

"It... it's not right. Starting this relationship was a mistake," Lucas mumbles, and my heart sinks, but he doesn't seem finished yet. "All I do is hurt him. Ness... Ness deserves someone better."

What. I've got half the mind to barge in and punch the sense into this idiot before Link beats me to it - albeit in a more pacifist-like way.

"Then be that person for him."

There's a painstaking pause. Then with the sound of shoes shuffling against the bathroom tiles, Lucas mutters something incoherent under his breath.

"It sounds to me like you already have your answer," Link says, and I can almost hear the smile in his voice. "If you want something out of this relationship, you need to tell him, Lucas. Ness can't read your mind."

By this point, the conversation seems to be wrapping up. There's a little more talking, a reassuring tone, a couple more words that fall empty on my ears.

My heart is pounding. My head feels light-headed.

Slowly, I back away from the door.

Then I turn and run.

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~oO0Oo~

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I return to the noisy lobby to wait for Lucas, my breath stuck in my throat, my eyes wide as fucking saucers. Link returns first, sliding back into place next to a soft-spoken Zelda, who murmurs gentle words and rests her hand on top of his.

When Lucas appears back to my side a little later, apologizing that he had to use the bathroom, I smile and fill him in what he missed. But in the inside, I'm shaking because I'm so fucking nervous, I love him so so much, but this all seems too good to be true, and for once, I don't want to be hasty. I don't want to ruin this. Whatever... this is. Not exactly friends. More than roommates. I'm not quite sure what we are at this point.

We decide that the show's over, so we leave the lobby and ride the elevator back to the tenth floor suites. During the entire ride up, not a word is exchanged, but I've lost all the feeling in my legs, and my knees are shaking like no tomorrow. As silent as a ghost, Lucas stands next to me, staring aimlessly at the elevator doors.

Do you like me? I want to ask him, but the words get clogged up in my mouth. I feel like such a pansy for chickening out, but I don't trust myself to talk. Not this time.

Because I know what I want.

But knowing what Lucas wants is a different story. The wheels are reversed, and this time, Lucas needs to take the initiative, because I don't know what he wants. I'm willing to support him, I'm willing to make this relationship real, but I can't do either if he won't make up his mind. I've always made the first move, but now, this time, I don't want to pressure him into doing something we'll both regret.

It's all so confusing. Just when I think I'm getting over him, I realize that maybe I don't have to be, and while I'm figuring out how hard of a time Lucas is having, realizing that he might like me with maybe not as supportive of a dad, I'm not sure what I can do for him. I'm not sure, and it's so frustrating because Lucas thinks that he has to slug through tough times on his own. It's frustrating, how considerate he's trying to be, and it's frustrating because he spends too much time overthinking things, overanalyzing things, overcomplicating things. His indecision is killing me, and I find myself almost wishing for another solid rejection. Almost. Anything's better than being strung along.

I can wait. I'm willing to wait.

But I can't wait forever.

I dig my nails into my palms. I don't want to keep my hopes up. I don't want to be disappointed a second time, so I close my mouth and try to keep down the feelings bubbling up my throat. Still, I know I'm failing miserably because my hands are turning sweaty, a part of my heart's beating like the giant Chinese drum on New Years, and underneath all the confusion, I'm flying over the fucking moon like a unicorn farting rainbows because maybe - just maybe - my unrequited love isn't so unrequited after all.

"You're awfully quiet," Lucas notes when I unlock the front door to our suite, and I freeze up, instantly feeling like I'm trapped in one of my sister's stupid virtual BL Novels.

Your crush has spoken to you! How do you respond?

A. Flirt

B. Kiss him

C. Compliment him

D. aSDFGHKLKJKL-

None of the above. I swallow down the lump in my throat. "Uh, I. I don't mean to burst your bubble on day one, but I don't think this fake relationship's going to work out."

Lucas blinks. He turns his head away. "I don't think so either," he murmurs, pushing the door open.

"I-I," I stammer.

Lucas's eyes shift back to mine. His expression is as unreadable as always.

"I call first shower," I say quickly, hurrying into the apartment.

Lucas's shoulders slump over. "Sure," he mumbles, shuffling after me and shutting the door.

Author's Note:

Happy reading!

*In Earthbound, Ness's dad is jokingly referred to as a phone, because his character pays homage to the busy Japanese husbands who never have time for their families (based off of Itoi's own father). Despite this, I've always seen Ness's dad as a supportive character, and while it's a twist to make him gay to fit the plot of this fic, I do believe that he genuinely cares for his son.