~Prologue~

"Oh, how's your relationship going?"

"I already told you, it's all fake for the press. Trying to date Lucas is so stressful-"

"Eh?! Look who's talking-"

"You know that I'm still not over him." I nervously glance at the bedroom door, but Lucas doesn't seem to be home. Still, out of sheer habit, I lower my voice. "It's not liking him that's hard, it's the whole "faking it for the cameras" part that really stresses me out."

"Then you should tell him."

"I'm not telling him! In case you've forgotten, he rejected me!"

"No, I have not forgotten," Paula says, sounding increasingly impatient. "Ness, I'm not going to lie, this just sounds like a bad communication problem. If he likes you, and you like him back, there's no reason to play hide-and-seek around your feelings."

I wring my hair in agitation. "See that's the thing, he already knows that I like him-"

"Was this before or after you said it was all a misunderstanding?" Paula says dryly.

"I'm a horrible actor! Everyone can tell that I still like him!" I wail.

"Apparently everyone except for him."

"Okay, so maybe he's a little dense," I say feebly.

"Then tell him outright, for crying out loud."

I drop my head. "I don't get it, Paula. If Lucas really did like me back, then he wouldn't be afraid to tell me himself."

Paula doesn't look pleased. "Honestly, if he doesn't have the balls to confess to your face, then he's not worth pursuing."

"If Lucas hasn't said anything, then he probably has a good reason," I argue stubbornly. This results in me spilling out my heart and soul over what happened over the course of the past week for a second time, and like the understanding friend she is, Paula still listens in to my dramatic lament of a sob story.

Finally when I take a breather after a particularly long sentence, she interrupts me. "Then why don't you make the first move?" Paula asks quietly.

"I told you, I don't want to pressure him to come out because of ME. Plus I'm not sure what the deal is with his dad. Have you seen his dad? His dad's totally ripped like an Olympic bodybuilder-"

"If Lucas truly loves you, then I'm sure that he'll feel more supported than pressured." Paula taps on the keyboard. "I think you should talk to Jeff."

I snap my head up in confusion. "Jeff? Jeff who?"

"Jeff Andonuts. Our Jeff."

I smack myself on the forehead. "Oh, Jeff! Duh."

"I've been in touch with him more recently. If I remember, he had to iron out a rough patch with Tony before they got back together. So yeah, Jeff would have better advice to give you than I do." The buzz rings, but after a while, Paula clicks it off with a sigh. "I guess he's offline. I'll hit him up later, and we'll see what he says tomorrow." Looking up, Paula gives me an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I got to go. Packing awaits."

"Sure thing. I hope things work out with your parents."

"Ugh, don't I wish," she groans comically, and we share a good laugh at her expense. The Whoosh videochat gives a small blip, then the window disappears in a pop.

Stretching my arms, I slowly rise out of my seat. Skyping Paula was a well-needed pick-me-up, but when my stomach growls, I realize that something else requires my immediate attention.

"Hey, stop you," I say, lightly poking my stomach.

It growls again. Traitorous git.

That reminds me, I'm out of food.

Deciding to scrounge around my pantry for crumbs because I'm too lazy to haul my ass over to the cafeteria, I jog over to the kitchen only to stop in place, wide-eyed at the couch.

It's Lucas.

Sleeping.

With my blanket in his hands.

Carefully, I step over, but Lucas doesn't stir an inch. Huh. I could've sworn that he wasn't home. He's as quiet as a mouse. Either way, he's clocked out already. I watch him breathe out peaceful puffs of air. Shit, just watching Lucas nap makes me want to nap.

Propping his head up against the armrest into a more comfortable position, I lightly ruffle his hair. "What are you doing here? I thought you were at the library," I say softly.

Of course, Lucas doesn't respond.

My eyes trail over to the grocery bag on the ground. It crinkles when I quietly pick it up, and when a receipt flutters out of the bag, I can't help but notice that there's only one item on the list.

"Coco puffs?" I repeat, confused. I could've sworn that Lucas didn't eat cereal. At the very least, he avoids eating it often, because cereal goes hand-in-hand with milk, and well, Lucas is mildly lactose intolerant. He can still eat dairy products like ice cream, yogurt, and cheese (god, Lucas fucking LOVES cheese), just not a fuck ton, and he avoids directly drinking more than a full glass of milk a day: Courtesy of his half-Japanese genes.

Curiosity drives me to open up the pantry.

Lo and behold, there's a cereal box standing on my once-empty shelf.

Seeing that I'm a proud all-out 100% American white boi whose middle name is cheeseburger, I can't resist a crow of delight and begin my breakfast feast with a generous serving of cereal and milk. When I make my way around the kitchen counter, Lucas groggily sits up, and oops, I've accidentally woken him up with my obnoxious loud mouth.

"Fank oo'! I lub dis shtuff," I manage around a full mouth, and offer him my spoon with a silly grin. "Dew wan sum?"

For a second, Lucas stares at me like he's seen a ghost.

Then slowly, he breaks out into a quiet laugh.

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~Chapter Twenty-One~

TFW I Eat Too Much Cheese Popcorn

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Jokingly, there are three simple rules I follow to satisfy Lucas's friendship.

1. Don't get in the way of his sleep.

2. Don't get in the way of his food.

3. Don't get in the way of his (lack of) social life.

Still his response, while expected, crushes my hopes and dreams.

"No."

"I'll buy you lunch!"

"I thought you wanted private time with Paula today."

I internally cringe, shrinking under the vast ceiling of the library. The worst part? I can't argue against that, not when he's using my own words against me. "Well, that was before she spilled the beans to Jeff, and before Jeff spilled the beans to his boyfriend. Besides, if Paula wants to talk to me, we can always do it on the side. Please, Lucas, you gotta save me. I'm begging you!"

"Asking me again won't change my answer."

"...Please?"

"You know I dun socialize, Imma hermit," Lucas mumbles, pulling his arms over his head. "Now cuddit ow, I'm tryin to concentrate."

"But Tony's going to bombard me with relationship advice! And we're not even in a relationship," I wail, aghast. "Lucas, you gotta tag along-"

"Your friends, your problem."

I throw my hands up into the air in a fit of frustration. "No, wrong. We're in this together. If I have to listen to Tony give me advice on how to charm dicks, then you're gonna suffer through it with me-" I stop at the unimpressed look on Lucas's face. Shit, he's really not in the mood. I resort back to whining like a kid. "Please...?"

"I'm not going to gate-crash your party by being grumpy and sleep-deprived. Seriously, go have fun." Lucas spares me a side-glance, only to raise a brow. "And what are you doing up so early, it's six in the morning."

"I should be asking you that," I retort, comfortably leaning against the back of his chair. I peer over his shoulder and catch a glimpse of Obscure Video Games of the Past Decade before Lucas's arm involuntarily slides over it. "This is the second night you've slept over in the library. What are you doing, taking notes?" I comment, curiously looking at the haphazard pile of papers strewn over the desk.

"I'm trying to figure something out," Lucas mutters, clumsily covering a yawn and pushing my head away. "Shoo, I'm busy. Go socialize with your girlfriend-"

"Paula's NOT my girlfriend," I protest. "She's a girl, she's a friend, but she's not my girlfriend."

"Don't you have to be somewhere," he says, exasperated.

"Maybeee," I say, drawing out the "ee." Lucas still looks less than convinced. Oh well, I tried. "We should hang out more. Or at least, deter people from wondering if our honey-moon phase is over before Chrom stops acting up- Hey, I know! Let's watch a movie tonight. Except-" I jab a finger into his shoulder. "I'm choosing the movie. We all know what happened last time you did-"

"Don't remind me," Lucas suddenly says, the back of his neck boiling up lobster red, and this makes me smirk. Got him again. "Didn't you say that your reunion was going to last long?"

I proudly puff up my chest. "Well, I need to make sure you don't break curfew, because someone hasn't come home for the past two days. I swear to god, if you start breaking the rules too, Master Hand's going to call me out for being a shitty influence."

"I'll come home tonight, you don't have to cut your socializing short," he says quickly. "And I... I think I'll be busy-"

"On a Saturday? We don't have anything to do until Christmas." I peer at him with a lazy halfassed grin. "My reunion's not going to last all day. Come home tonight. I heard the new Thor movie's out. Even better, Moulin Rouge is back on Netflix."

Lucas swallows. "I thought you were looking forward to seeing your friends."

"I am. But I can do two things in one go, can't I?"

Slumping over, Lucas stuffs his hands into his pockets. "What are we watching," he mumbles. Heh, look at this dork, acting all shy as hell. My grin widens. I knew it, no one can resist my charm!

"I knew you liked me," I say happily.

"You're going to be late," is all he says, though it's fucking 6 in the morning and everyone is either sleeping or off to watch the games in the lobby.

"We'll figure out what to watch later." I watch him hopefully. "So... is Operation Movie Night a go? How does ten sound?"

"I'd like that," Lucas says softly.

You know what, this is okay. This is totally more than okay.

I bite down on my lip, because god, Lucas needs to stop being so adorable. Seriously, if he keeps telling me what the fuck he's actually feeling about something more often, like right now, then hell, I'd do anything to make him happy.

I carefully study his face from the side. "You sure you'll show up tonight? No more sleeping in the library?"

"I'll try."

"I'll kiss you if you show up on time," I suggest in the manner of a tempting bribe, and cackle madly when Lucas accidentally shoves a textbook too hard with his elbow, knocking it away and sending it flying off the table.

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," he groans, his cheeks tinted pink, and closes the book shut when I pick it up and place it back into his hands.

While not a solid guarantee, I know that Lucas is more likely to open up if I can make him more at ease... which means making him comfortable around me again. Lucas opens up at his own pace. He doesn't share what's on his mind until he's ready.

But somehow, if I can encourage him to make that leap of courage, if I can figure out how to best help him...

At the very least, I don't expect anything. Honestly? I'm just hoping for a good time. Quality time dorking around. Which Lucas has agreed to. Tonight. YES. I resist the urge to pump my fist into the air in triumph.

Keep it casual.

DAMN IT NESS just keep it casual.

But I'm so giddy over my little victory that I leap over and give Lucas a quick hug on my way out. Lucas stiffens up in my hold, but I dash out before he can voice his displeasure. I'm surprised that Lucas is even up at this hour. He's been sleeping in less and less lately. I remember his open-mouthed fast-asleep face in the library and snrrk with laughter. The more dorky faces I can snap to him, the better.

It's a win-win situation for me either way.

So I skip out of the library in high spirits and jump down to the first floor.

This is also where I get a convenient reminder about Master Hand's house arrest.

"Oh, no! Not you!" Tingle squeaks, struggling to peer over the tall receptionist desk to waggle his tiny finger at me. "You, Sir Ness, are listed in the top of the Most Wanted Amiibo list. I'm afraid we can't let you wander outside! And - oh, what is this? Oh my my!" Tingle vigorously shakes out a scroll of paper, which quickly rolls down to the floor. "Sir, you are most grievously stuck in the top three current shipping trends! No absolutely not-"

"I'm only going to be out for a few hours!" I whine.

"Kooloo-limpah, enough whining! Master Hand's words are the fairy-est, fairest of laws, and alas, you are on his shitlist!" Tingle furiously shoos me away with a frown on his elfish face. "Begone, troublesome child!"

Of course, this leads me to Plan B.

"Wha- aUGH, NESS!" Screeching to a halt at my doubled over form in his now-destroyed bathroom, Jeff wrings his hands into his hair in despair. "I just got the toilet repaired last night!"

"My bad," I cough, waving off the remnants of ash from my teleportation.

"This is what, the third time you've teleported into my bathroom?"

"It's an emergency, take mercy on me," I plead, trailing behind Jeff as he stomps away to fetch his tool box.

"Well, I'm here," Jeff says grumpily, sitting back onto the bathroom tiles to cut off the godawful caterwauling of the smoke detector. "And I'm not going anywhere. Do tell me why you've suddenly re-discovered the urge to break and enter at seven in the morning."

"Master Hand won't let me out of the Mansion-"

"For good reason."

"I'm serious, Jeff!" I start pacing around. "That means today... Paula and Tony... we-"

"-can still meet them today. We'll just have to let them inside the Mansion."

"Tingle won't let them in-"

"I signed up for two VIP Smash Mansion Passes in advance."

"And here I was, looking forward to a nice, lovely day outside of the Mansion," I say gloomily.

Jeff points his screwdriver in my direction. "Bad idea. You'd best follow directions until Master Hand gives the word."

I slump over in a sulk. The VIP Smash Mansion Pass isn't the end of the world: it's a golden ticket to a front seat of any match. A limited supply is sold off each month at a ridiculously high price, while the others are given away in lotteries. The VIP pass grants the buyer full access to the back elevators of Smash Mansion, which lead directly to the award-winning shopping district on the 3rd floor and a nice view of the underground arena. Basically, it's a chance for the lucky person to meet Smashers in person.

Good news: Smashers can invite whomever they want for free.

Bad news: I REALLY wanna go outside.

"You know that more passes are sold during the Championships," I plead desperately. "The 3rd floor's going to be so crowded. Plus we've been to the 3rd floor before. You're in Master Hand's good graces, aren't you? Can't you ask him to lift the curfew for me? Please? You defeated Giygas-"

"Ah... I wouldn't say I defeated Giygas. It was your quest, and we helped each other," Jeff says, suddenly looking embarrassed. "Look, Ness, I'm an assist trophy. I lack any authoritative power. Even if I didn't, I have to agree with Master Hand this time. You started a shipping scandal last week. All the fans are going to be on your heels... which is another reason to stay here. No paparazzi."

"I guess you're right," I mutter.

"Glad that you see reason. The media is painting you as quite the teenage heart-throb."

Thinking back to unpleasant memories of watching the paparazzi digging through my trash outside Tracy's bedroom, I grimace. "I never asked for all the fame."

"I'd bet all the girls would love to hear that."

"Seriously, why do people keep saying that?" Suddenly finding the room hot, I tug on my shirt collar. "I'm not good with girls-"

"You've gotten love letters from fans since you first started Melee-"

"You're talking about love letters? Then go see Samus-"

"-and they're calling you the Child Idol of the century."

"I could care less about what the press calls me," I say exasperated. In Smash City, my name might be the most well-used of my ragtag Earthbound gang, but Poo's royalty, Paula's a fashion model, and Jeff's the son of a well-off inventor.

For heaven's sake, Jeff's got the money AND the brains. His dad sold some fancy Doofenshmirtzian "Time Machine-inator" shortly after our quest. It played a huge part in the development of Smash City's SkyTrain, and ended up bringing Jeff big buck, topping his status from "Glasses" to "Richer glasses."

As true as it is, I don't bring up Jeff's newfound "rich kid" status, because last I heard, Dr. Andonuts has been stuck in an asylum for the past several years, mumbling away about chimaeras and (oddly enough) pigs. He's completely lost his marbles. This also makes me feel pretty crummy for Jeff, considering that we live in the same building and that I never knew how to broach the topic. When you count the fact that I hadn't even dropped by to check on Dr. Andonuts last year... Yeah. Let's say that I'm stuck on Santa's naughty list this Christmas.

Jeff sets down his tools. "I was wondering when you were going to see me," he says casually, but I know him too well to be fooled. "How are things with Lucas?"

"How did you-"

"Paula told me."

I give a nervous laugh. "Uh, I... It's complicated. We haven't been talking. Kinda sorta. I don't know...?" Embarrassed, I bury my face into my hands. "Ugh, I like him, and I think he likes me, but I'm not sure-"

Suddenly looking as equally flustered, Jeff sets down his tools. "T-Tony!" he stammers. "Tony's better at figuring out mushy stuff than I am. I've already let Tony know, so you can consult him on your relationship problems-"

"Noooo," I say quickly, pushing Jeff out of the bathroom and sorely regretting that I spilled out all my life's woes to Paula for the thousandth time in a row. Oh, curse me and my big mouth! "Jeff, it's okay. EVERYTHING IS OKEY. I got this. Romance? Relationships? Ha, yeah, this is right up my alley." Under Jeff's dubious expression, I awkwardly swing my arms. "Yes. It is. Because. People skills! Icantotallyrelationship. FALCON YES."

"Paula told me that you've barely talked to Lucas since your last visit to Onett."

I wince. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

By this point, Jeff's building another bottle rocket again. It's almost a nervous tick - he likes to keep his hands busy. I don't know why, but as long as he doesn't go all Clemont on me and make it explode, I'll take it.

...it also doesn't help that Jeff resembles a stereotypical blonde genius with glasses.

Lucas, Paula, and now Jeff. Seriously, I need to stop surrounding myself with blondes who are smarter than me.

"I promise no interventions, but worst case scenario, Tony's advice might give you something rational to think over," Jeff says with a firm finality, and I feel the weight of the World crash upon my mortal shoulders.

Oh dear god.

What have I done.

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~oO0Oo~

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And that, my friends, is how I met my untimely demise: Death by Third-wheeling.

Nevermind, we actually have a bigger problem. Yeah, you know what I'm talking about: How to avoid gay friends who want to bring up my gay crush. It's bad enough that my sister and mom are already on the "Let's tease Ness for having a crush because aww isn't that so cute?" bandwagon, and now that I've blabbed my mouth off to everyone else in the vicinity, I don't need to add any more friends - gay, straight, or otherwise - into the embarrassing mix.

Thus begins the biggest goose chase of the year.

The reunion doesn't start off that badly. Or at least, not in the beginning. When we find Paula and Tony chilling outside The Sashimi Gem at noon-thirty, dolled up in thick mittens and woolen coats to protect themselves from the chill, Jeff ambles over to greet them, his eyes bright and cheeks red with cold. Upon seeing him, Tony literally jumps up, squeaking with delight, and the two enjoy a very enthusiastic hug. I admit, it's kind of cute, but all the same, I do feel a bit intrusive for standing awkwardly in the middle of their heartfelt reunion. Next to me, Paula glances at me with the same sheepish expression. This makes me feel slightly better.

Nice to know that I'm not the only one being third-wheeled.

Everything is so ridiculously high end at the Grande Central Park of the shopping district that the Costco on the outskirts sticks out like a sore thumb. Three-star Michelin restaurants are the norm in this area. Some of the classiest restaurants have gathered round to eagerly cater for their customers - VIP guests dressed in suits and professional wear. I even spot Mario and the Mushroom Kingdom at a large RESERVED table by Osteria Francescana, toasting over a meal of spaghetti, and Ashley is admiring a ring over at the Piaget jewelry store.

For those who can afford it, this place is a rich kid's playground.

For those who can't, it's a wannabe daydream.

As a middle class fuckboy where taxes wring your neck and squeeze the ever-living shit out of your income, guess which category I fall under.

Of course, with all the fanciest of restaurants and places at our disposal, we end up eating outside of Grande Central Park at an In-N-Out. For a fast food place, it sells affordable burgers that actually taste so good that the cheese melts in my mouth and the steak patty does a happy tap-dance on my tongue. Overall, you could say that I was a very happy teen.

As horrible as it sounds, yes, I also did anything I could to avoid a possible one-on-one with Tony. I made sure not to provide outlets for scenes where we could end up alone. I made sure to sit next to Paula on the booth. I made sure to walk at the side, sandwiching Paula and Jeff in the middle. To my relief, my efforts were for naught. Tony seemed perfectly happy with being all lovey-dovey with Jeff, who, now coaxed out of his awkward nerdy self, was giving an explanation about black holes for god knows why.

Paula, as always, looks stunning. She won the title of Miss Eagleland last year, and top brands desperately throw shoes at her with hopes that she will wear them. She has an endless string of admirers.

Naturally, as it is usually around any attractive girl out of my league, I feel a little awkward and out-of-place standing next to her, but the awkwardness quickly subsides because hey, we're friends. And being total bffs with the hot model chick who helped you save the world is pretty damn awesome.

"It's nice to be back," Paula suddenly says, breaking into a smile, and without asking, I know what she means.

Four people. Hanging out. It's just like old times.

Well, except for all the death-defying stunts, evil aliens, and stupid level grinding quests, but shh, let's keep it light today. Happy memories. Magic butterflies. Rainbows. A warm fuzzy feeling comfortably settles in the pit of my stomach. There's really nothing quite like bonding in the face of trauma.

"Yeah," I say. "If Poo stopped by, then we would've completed the original quartet."

"I heard that he's busy with his princely duties."

"No surprise there. Dude's running a whole friggin country by himself. He's like, the great Dragon Warrior-"

Paula stifles a grin. "The great Dragon Warrior?"

"Yeah, like King Poo Panda-"

At my horrible pun (in my defense, Poo, I swear to Dalaam that there are worse things in life than being compared to a Dreamworks movie that was actually fucking good), Paula cackles into her mittens. She almost topples over from laughing so hard that I have to sling my arm over her shoulder to keep her balance up, and when she holds onto my hand with another burst of giggles, I smile and glance at the row of shops around the shopping district, trying not to think about the sudden lurch in my stomach. I've held Paula's hand so many times before: after we were trapped together under Threed during a zombie attack, after she was kidnapped in the Fourside department store, after we were out exploring Winters in Dr. Andonuts' lab.

We've held hands so many times before. This shouldn't be any different.

But then I think of Lucas, and how long it took him to let me hold his hand. A year? Two? And how many times has he ducked away from me every time I tried to hug him? Many times. So many times that I've lost count.

I drop my eyes. In retrospect, my first love confession didn't the turn out the way I'd expected. I guess I'd been a tad too optimistic. I'd expected rainbows. I'd expected bishie sparkles. Hell, call me cliche, call me stupid, but I'd envisioned the scene many times, over how I would casually confess to Lucas, over how his face would light up, over how we'd kiss and make out and play Mario Kart until three in the morning like the plot of some stupidly generic Nesscas fanfic.

Of course, none of that happened. One careless choice had turned me into a drunken mess, and ended up with Lucas having to drag my sorry ass up to the hospital ward. Shit I don't even want to talk about that night. Just thinking about it, or whatever little of it I do remember, makes me cringe so badly that I feel a small part of me shrivel up and die every time Lucas glances my way.

But he does like me.

I think.

Jesus fucking christ, I can't tell. I can only hope that he doesn't hate me at this point.

Suddenly for some stupid reason, a lump swells up in my throat. I wish he loved me. I wish that he at least told me that he loved me, just once.

Beside me, Paula's eyes faintly shimmer with magic. I can feel the warmth of her empathy link wash over me, and through our linked fingers, I know that she can feel mine. She's so happy and so open about her own feelings.

I'm grateful for our friendship. I'm so grateful for her comfort, for her being there for me when no one else was.

I grip her hand tighter.

Paula falters, catching my expression. I'm not exactly sure what she saw - I swear that I'm not THAT bad looking, I even combed my hair today - but she quickly lets go of my hand before I can read her feelings. "I'll be right back. Gotta go to the bathroom," she suddenly announces, and whirling around, dashes away in the opposite direction.

"Paula, where are you going? There's a bathroom over there-" I call out, confused, but as I reach out to her, the edge of her pink dress has already fluttered out of sight around the corner of a Gucci store.

Bewildered, I touch my face with my other hand. Am I really that bad looking? Shit, maybe my eyes went all glowy and freaked her out again I don't know. When I try to follow, Jeff holds me back with a hand on my shoulder.

"I told her not to come visit you today," Jeff says in a calculated tone.

"Why?"

"That's for her to say."

Even Tony looks troubled at Jeff's side. "Should we go fetch her?"

Jeff shakes his head. "Leave her be. She can take care of herself."

I dumbly stare at the place Paula vanished. A crowd of people murmur excitedly around us - Paula's a decently known celebrity herself. If they figure out who she is, then no doubt they'll piece two and two together.

From somewhere in my chest, I feel her empathy link throb.

The look on her face.

I've only seen her wear that look once before.

"She's upset," I mumble.

"-and you might make it worse," Jeff warns. "Don't try anything. Paula can take care of herself, she'll come back." Jeff shrugs on his coat. "I'll follow her. You keep Tony company."

As I feared, Tony takes advantage of this time to drag me away, squeezing into a secluded alley by the food court. I hear the voices and footsteps of curious fans murmur past, and am sorely glad when they walk away, oblivious to our presence.

Breathing in, I pinch my nose and try to think of a way to dig myself out of my own mess. Except that up close, Tony's hair looks as chestnut brown as ever except for the newly-added strawberry blonde highlights, and I notice that his hair also (unfortunately) has the same wavy curls as Paula's does.

This does not help me concentrate.

His ensemble as flamboyant as a gay flower (he's wearing fluorescent orange and purple mismatched socks, for crying out loud), Tony steers me through the cobbled alley towards a glowing display at Hermes.

"You're looking as green as ever," I comment dryly.

Tony glances down at his entire attire swathed in emerald. "Oh this? It's my favorite color. But you know that's not why we're here." He clacks his tongue impatiently, and from here, I can spot a silver piercing on the tip of his tongue.

The cards are up. I give in with a sigh. "Great, does everyone know about my hopeless lovelife?"

"You spilled the beans, not me," Tony answers with a shrug. "But hey, since we're both into hot blondes-" When my face boils up in mortification, Tony smiles sincerely. "It's okay, I see Jeff the same way. Stereotypical gay theatre kid here."

"I'm surprised it took you so long to get hitched with Jeff," I mutter.

"We broke up early on because we wanted different things in life," Tony confesses. "Jeff wanted to pursue his studies, and I, well, I literally dicked around. I tried sleeping around with other guys on Grindr, but the relationships never lasted long. Don't get me wrong, dicks are nice-"

Great, now I know more about Tony's sex life than I ever need to.

"-but there really was no one like Jeff. We ended up missing each other, so after he graduated early from college, we touched base and got back together again."

While I'm no prude, and am honestly glad to see Jeff and Tony back together, I really do think that this is too much information. Considering that I fall into the same pitfall while talking, I silently resolve to pick up a few hints from Lucas. Maybe become a hermit. Give up my social life. Permanently.

I stare at Tony blankly. "You lost me at dicks."

Tony laughs, and his ridiculously flamboyant bowler hat bobs on his head. "My point is, is Lucas out of the closet?"

The unexpected question catches me off-guard. "No...? At least, I don't think so."

"That's your first problem."

"What's wrong with being closeted?" I say indignantly.

"The relationship usually won't work out. Hold on, hear me out for a sec," Tony says quickly when I try to interrupt him. "See Ness, you get this power imbalance, because the closeted person gets all the say-so in the relationship. Like, when it's okay to touch, when it's okay to do A, when it's okay to do B," Tony explains, tilting his head into a wise nod. "Don't get me wrong. It can still work out- just hasn't for me. In my opinion, dating a closeted person is too much trouble than it's worth."

"Maybe if you can help them out of the closet-"

"Coming out isn't just a one-time thing. It's something you'll have to do forever. It's personal. And at the risk of alienating your family? For some people, it's not worth the risk. At least, not right now. Especially when it concerns their safety." When Tony turns his head, and I can see the faint scar on his forehead before his bangs hide it. "I took the risk. So did you. But not all people have understanding parents."

"I'm gonna give Lucas some time first. It's only been the second day," I say desperately, and okay, maybe I am a tad bit biased because so far, Tony's advice has basically been it won't work out, ever, ZIP ZILCH NADA.

"Mm. I haven't heard of a case where someone falling in love with their straight best friend ever worked out, but, well... if you know that Lucas likes you back, then he's not exactly straight, is he?"

As little of a saving grace it is, Tony's question lifts up my hopes. Slightly. "I guess not."

"Then be ready when Lucas decides to come out of the closet, because if he does, he'll need you," Tony says, clapping me on the shoulder. "But just so you know-"

"Expect nothing."

"That too, but be careful that he doesn't drag you back in."

"I won't," I promise.

"Atta boy," Tony says cheerfully, bobbing his head like a bobblehead yet a second time. "I knew I had the easier end of the deal. I think Jeff's going to take a while with Paula, so let's explore 'round."

I agree, and catching the aroma of confectioneries, turn towards the nearest bakery. While choux cream puffs are honestly to die for, I'm really more of a "main course meal" fan than a "sugary desserts" fan. But this suddenly reminds me of how much Lucas likes sweets, of how he bought me cereal, and of how rarely he treats himself out.

So I end up at Bottega Louis's Restaurant, Gourmet, and Patisserie, plastering my face against the glass display of mouthwatering cakes and macaroons, because heck, why not? It makes me a little more than sad that the third floor shopping district doesn't sell a single choux cream puff, but it's a small grievance when I picture Lucas's eyes brightening up at the sight of baked goods.

True to Tony's word, as soon as we step outside with our goodies, Jeff returns with a puffy-eyed Paula in tow.

"Sorry about that, it's been a rough week," Paula says with a weak laugh.

I eye her in concern. "You sure it's cool? We could've met up another time-"

"No, this is good! I wanted to see you. I was still going to be in the area for my college tour." Paula rubs her sleeves against her face, then breaks into genuine smile. "Phew, forget that happened, and I'll call it even for the time that Starman Super KO'ed you."

Instantly, this triggers my indignant outrage. "But that dungeon was crazy! There were so many Starmen Supers-"

"Everyone else had to carry the team because you went down," Paula smirks.

"Don't give me that, you kept running out of health when I first met you," I counter.

You can imagine the snarky come-backs that resulted.

This back-and-forth exchange goes on for quite a time before Jeff intervenes. Time flies, and before I know it, I'm waving everyone off at the front lobby, with Jeff clutching onto a enthusiastically beaming Tony's hand and Paula giggling at the exchange, her own hands full of shopping bags of the latest clothes. I offer to teleport them back to Paula's apartment, but bogged down by everyone tossing Master Hand's words at me, find myself forced to stay indoors.

It was probably for the best though, because when I glance at my phone, HOLY SHIT it's nine-fifty PM. I cut it close, barely managing to make it back to the suite right before ten, card-keying my way into the apartment and slamming the door shut. I blink a few times into the darkness before flicking the lights on.

No one's here.

My heart sinks. Of course the dolt isn't here. Probably lost track of time in the library.

But as I set up my Netflix and popcorn on the couch, the door beeps, and Lucas dashes in, breathless and panting over his legs. He seems oddly more bothered than usual, and I can tell because of the telltale flush rising from the back of his neck.

Watching his sorry state, I crack a grin and stuff more popcorn into my mouth. "Hey, you didn't have to rush. I'm still setting up."

Something flickers in his eyes, and Lucas ducks his head in embarrassment. "I can help," he mumbles, hurrying over to sit next to me and untangle my laptop charger from the other Playstation cords.

"How was the library?"

"Might have found a lead, so I'm heading back there tomorrow morning."

I pull up Moulin Rouge and maximize the screen. "Again? What are you even reading about, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?"

"No, I- what does that mean."

"No idea, but it's the longest word in the English language," I say proudly.

Lucas groans. "Figures. Only you would memorize a nonsense word."

"You mean nonsensical. Admit it, you're just jealous that I have a better vocabulary than you do," I sniff, and Lucas shakes his head, successfully freeing my laptop cord from the wild tangle. "No seriously, you didn't answer my question. Why exactly are you studying out your life and soul?"

Lucas rubs the back of his neck. "I'm not studying," he admits. "I'm searching for the Mother 3 cartridge. Someone stole it from Master Hand in Onett-"

I sit up in realization. "Is this why he spared my ass? Because he thought that whoever was behind the Shark raids was responsible for orchestrating the theft?"

"Pretty much. I haven't found any news online, but I think that I have a new lead. I found a book that has some ties to the plot of my game."

"Either way, I hope you find it. I'll let you know if I hear anything about your cartridge," I offer.

Lucas breaks into a tired smile. "Thanks, Ness. How was your day."

"It was fun! Well..." My expression falters. "Except for the part when Paula cried-"

Lucas cautiously looks up. "Paula cried?"

"She's under a lot of stress. Her parents have been giving her some beef over wanting to attend college out-of-dimension, but she'll text me more stuff about that later." When Lucas falls silent, I lightly elbow him in the side. "Don't you worry, she'll be fine. Paula's strong, and I'll see her again after she finishes her tour at Smash Uni tomorrow."

At this, both of us very hesitantly exchange a knowing glance. For a good reason. It's almost that time of year again.

"Are you-" I start.

"I would if I could, but the tuition's too expensive."

"That tuition's no joke," I agree. "50k plus a year? And just to study? No thanks. Honestly, you're the lucky one."

"How am I the lucky one."

"I'm turning eighteen soon," I groan. "I bet Marth's going to bust his ass recruiting me this year. Remember when he went all helicopter mom on Popo? And Popo was all like-" I give my best impression of a pompous frat boy. "Smoke weed everyday."

"To be fair, he does smoke weed everyday."

"Trust me, I know," I say fervently. "I'm so fucking glad that you don't. I swear to god, when I roomed with Popo, there was always this gross cloud of weed inside the apartment. I think I got high every time I stepped foot into the bathroom." I sneak Lucas a look. "You know, even if we ditch the nerd life, Master Hand did say that we could fill up our community service requirement in other ways."

"But you're still sticking to patrol duty."

"Right. Fighting crime and all." An ad plays on my screen, and I pause, watching another Geico commercial flash its 15 minutes could save you 15% or more on car insurance, because I've forgotten to pay my Netflix dues and am too lazy to pay tonight for membership. Oh well. Free online pirating it is. "Lucas... I've been thinking. With Porky out there, maybe we should lay low for a bit. I heard that the new Starbucks across the street is hiring baristas, and... and Captain Falcon's out playing All Might from Boku no Hero Academia! I think he's looking for extras to air at the live-action anime firm-"

"While you're still set on patrol duty."

Frustrated, I run my fingers through my hair. "It's... I don't know, you know I spared his life in the end. And I fell for it. Like a dumbass. Porky's my responsibility, okay."

"We're from the same world," Lucas deadpans.

"Well, considering that Porky tried to play bomberman on the SkyTrain, I don't feel too safe with you running around too!"

"I'm just as in much danger if I work as a barista or as an extra on set. I'm not quitting patrol duty unless you do."

"Lucas," I groan. "Why do you always choose the worst times to be a stubborn ass?"

"I'd rather be a stubborn ass than return home one night to find you dead," Lucas says flatly.

"What? You know that we can't die here, I'd only get petrified-" I start, but Lucas lowers his head, refusing to meet my eyes. Defeated, I glance back at my laptop, where a now ad-free Moulin Rouge is ready on stand-by.

Well, so much for a chill movie night.

"We should watch the Championships live tomorrow," I say instead. "Samus and Bayonetta are in the lead. They pulled off some pretty sweet stunts. I think I might even try out some moves."

"Mmh."

Monosyllables? Oh boy, I've definitely made him upset.

"Oh, right!" In a last-ditch attempt to lighten up the mood, I grab the Bottega Louie box and push it into his face. "Happy three-day anniversary! I thought we should celebrate the best of our crackship."

"How romantic. Should I go grab the rose petals."

"Stop making fun of me, you dolt, how the hell am I supposed to know what couples do for an anniversary," I whine, stabbing the candles into the Chocolate Hazelnut Flocage, but am so relieved that the tension is broken.

Lucas shuffles over. "You should've told me so I would've prepared something too."

"You bought me cereal," I say matter-of-factly, and snap my fingers. "PK Fire." A small flame erupts from the tip of my thumb. Lighting the two colorful candles, I step back to admire my work. The more I look at it, the more this scene resembles a ratchet recreation of a romantic Disney movie, but as embarrassed I am, Lucas thankfully doesn't seem to mind. I don't think either of us are really into sappy shit anyway.

Reading the logo on the cake box, Lucas just looks a little overwhelmed. "You didn't have to go all out," Lucas says, realizing where I've bought the cake and now looking mortified. "We can split the cost-"

"Geez, Lucas, calm down. It's not like I bought you a friggin Lamborghini. I didn't go all out, I swear. Like look at this; the cake is barely bigger than your hand," I say, pointing at the sad, but delicious lump of chocolate. "Also I cashed in all my checks today, so I felt like treating everyone out. I bought everyone something while we hung out, so I might as well do the same for you."

My explanation eases his troubled expression somewhat. "I'll treat you out next time," he promises.

"Yeah, whatever. Stop stalling, I'm starving." I scoot over, eagerly sliding the cake over. "Now make a wish and blow out the candles."

"And then you get a turn."

"Yep."

Lucas takes a minute to muse over it. Then he blows out the candles, leaving us in sudden darkness. The only source of light is the speck of stars outside the open balcony.

Curious, I peer into his face. "What was your wish?"

The corner of his lips uplift slightly in a hint of a smile. "Not telling."

"What? Oh, come on," I whine and gripe, but sadly, today doesn't seem like one of those days Lucas is willing to spill. Instead, he relights the cake with an incantation of his own. The candles spark bright blue.

"Your turn," he says, and I shift my eyes over from the flickering candles to his face. The magical fire reflects soft dots of light off his eyes.

I swallow hard. Shit, the nerves are back. Again. To no one's surprise. "That reminds me," I say in a upbeat tone, hoping that my voice isn't as nervous as it sounds. "You arrived on time today."

"I did," Lucas says quietly. His eyes look brighter blue than usual in the dark.

It's my turn to fluster. I feel my own face turn hot and gulp, but the sound's too audible in the silence. "Let's eat," I say hastily, blowing out the candles and plucking them out of the cake. Except we end up reaching for the cake knife at the same time, our hands awkwardly bumping into each other and our faces much too close-

So I do something incredibly stupid. Pinning his hand onto the ground, I angle my face over.

And kiss him.

Kinda. The timing's off, so I miss, clumsily bumping into his jaw and brushing my lips against the shell of his left ear.

Either way, it barely lasts a second. We jump apart, faces flushed, cheeks red.

I want to slap myself for pulling such a bold stunt, but the devilish half of me is too pleased to see how flustered I've made him. "U-um, sorry, I'm still into... tilted into you," I stammer, scooting away, but Lucas grips my arm.

"It's okay, this... this is okay," Lucas says firmly, though he sounds more like he's reassuring himself than reassuring me. The back of his ears are still flushed pink. "Let's watch the movie."

I stare at him in surprise. Lucas didn't push me away this time. Shit, now I want to grab his face and kiss him stupid, but I know that I've already slipped up here. I need to take things easy. Go steady. Go slow. One step at a time. One base at a time.

I'm not exactly sure what we are. Or what exactly this is.

But it's okay.

Lucas said it was okay.

Washing the cream off the candles, we split the cake, and I scarf down barely a third of my slice before I end up giving the rest of my half to Lucas. Though he furrows his brows in an unspoken question, I can't miss the longing look in his eyes, and when I slug him in the shoulder to take it, he seems all too pleased to do so, taking his time to chew through my discarded cake. Granted, it's a pretty good cake, and the chocolate tastes richer than liquid gold, but after eating sweets all day, I don't think my poor stomach can handle any more sugar.

Though it does have room for popcorn. My stomach always has room for cheddar popcorn. And grilled medium-rare steak. And potatoes. Warm, glorious oven-baked potatoes drizzled in golden butter that melts in your mouth-

Okay, I like food. Don't judge me.

I don't who started it, but somewhere during Satine's seductive twist on Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend, the blanket fortress rolls out, and we camp out on the couch together, huddled in a mess of my bed sheets in an attempt to avoid the chill of the apartment.

And let me tell you, the food coma is definitely real. While I made myself busy fantasizing about food porn, drunk on the thought of eating all the rich meals I missed out on during training season, I think I ate too much cheddar popcorn, but I can't bring myself to care because there's this happy buzz in my mind. Unbelievably comfortable and full, involuntarily, without thinking, I slowly sink my head into Lucas's shoulder.

And in response, Lucas gently rests his head on top of mine with a sleepy hum, his throat reverberating in a low vibrato.

Author's Note:

Happy reading!