& some things you just can't speak about

dante works through his previous actions, unable to remember another time when he’s enacted such jealous behavior. in high school, with miles, everyone simply knew they were each other’s; it was as known as a blue day sky, and it would’ve been a mistake to even attempt to get between the tufted haired genius and his soft hearted, fisted boyfriend. with charlie, the same fire did not ignite when another person laid eyes on the young athlete. but, in the getaway, as the two men rebuild something storied and everlasting somehow, a new side of dante reveals itself. he evades the cheeky prodding, knowing that he would have done the same thing again – no one is going to take this, take miles, away. dante abandons his superficial work to seize miles’ waving hand with both sets of his fingers. his elbows propped on the bar, he massages at miles’ palm, fidgety. eyes focus on the activity rather than miles’ knowing and blissfully accusatory hues. “maybe,” he mumbles, glancing up to discover the widened and electrifying grin. dante’s blush deepens, and he throws his head back with an eye roll. “yes, okay? of course i was,” he surrenders, thumbing into miles’ hand a moment again before he sets him free, his own hands flat against the bar top, towel still flipped over his shoulder. he looks at miles. “you’re mine,” he declares, before he lowers his volume again. “only i get to touch those arms.” he fails at concealing his giddy grin, and, when a customer a few stools down requests a vodka cranberry, dante nods to her. he almost travels to begin making the request, but he stops himself, steadying in front of his high school boyfriend, eyes serious, smile ever present, but softer now. “got it?” he poses possessively, running a thumb over miles’ cheek briefly before he departs to do his job. 

flushed skin takes miles back. way back to one of the first moments he remembers between himself and his high school boyfriend. brilliantly warm and bright cheeks as they each did their best to hide just how emphatic they were about the time they were spending together. cafeteria lunches turned to morning greetings shared at dante’s locker to hours-long ‘study’ sessions at the hollis home to this one moment, just before miles kissed the love of his life for the very first time. hand on his cheek, flushed faces, hesitation, and nothing but a deep desire to be close to the other boy. miles still remembers that dante’s eyes had never been such a distinct ice blue – until now. until this very illuminating moment when dante reveals that there’s green within him for anyone other than himself touching the contractor. how does he bare that only one person sends goosebumps up his arms and down his neck with every deliberate touch? skin covered in them now, his breath leaves his lungs, endlessly affected by the man before him. in all of the same ways as eight short years ago. “all yours,” he lets out in what’s left of the breath inside of him. hands dropped, touch severed, and all that the brunette wants to do is climb over the bar and be enveloped in the safest home he’s ever known. the flip of their first kiss from high school this time – dante’s hand on his cheek, a brief moment, and then dante walks away. and with a whisper, fingers touching lips, miles signs his side of the contract. “got it.”

“he’s still kind of pissed about the outing thing, but that doesn’t mean he hates you, miles. how could anyone hate you?” as far as she knew, she had no reason to believe the tension between the two was as bad as miles was making it out to be. ezra would have told her, right? if he really hated miles, it would have been brought up by now. especially back in high school, when even the mention of miles’ name sent chills down her spine, she would have remembered if ezra said anything mean about him. “i think cj knows. i sort of mentioned some things to her, but i left out names. i’m pretty sure she guessed it though,” rebe informed him, even though that was something she probably should have done a few weeks sooner. “are you- i know you’re upset that ezra knows, but are you mad that i told theo?” it never felt like this before, like she was constantly walking on eggshells around him, constantly afraid that she was doing something that would upset him. “i didn’t think what i was saying in the group chat was anything unusual for what ezra and i were normally like before all of this. but i knew at some point this,” she pointed back and forth between the two of them, “conversation would have to happen. i just didn’t expect it to happen so soon. just like if when you start hanging out with someone i wouldn’t expect you to tell me about it week one.” she wonders if its obvious to miles, the way all of her thoughts always have been, that she’s talking about dante. there seems to be a war going on in her head, in which half of her is wholeheartedly convinced that miles has never stopped being in love with his ex, that dante is better for him than she is in every conceivable way, that she is an idiot for taking this fucking long to realize. and the other half, that is repeatedly reminding her that her thoughts have always been self loathing in whatever way they can be, and this is no exception. this half is fighting so hard to hold onto whatever hope she has left, because, fuck, she has made a lot of mistakes, but giving up on the boy in front of her has never, will never be one of them. “i just don’t want you to worry about me.” its honest, as honest as she can be without admitting that they both knew she had just lied. “yeah, we don’t have to talk if you’re not,” there’s a pause, she’s struggling to find the right word, “ready?” 

a soft sigh leaves miles’s lips. is there a world in which people would understand what was going through his mind when he decided to say something about ezra and theo? all of him knows that the intent of trying to defend his brother does not overshadow how it truly made ezra feel. but the bottom line is that he’s far from wanting to talk to rebe about something like this. it’s not his place to put her between the two of them. it just confused him that all of this time, she was blind to the fact that her best friend loathed miles? it felt like a convenient excuse, if he was completely honest. all of it did. “i’m not mad about you telling anyone, rebe,” not a single thing he was trying to get across to her felt like it was sticking at all. green eyes flutter shut, the breeze gentle against his cheeks as he tries to collect his thoughts. somehow, maybe his mind could reach and grab one if it moved slowly enough. “listen, you have a lot of excuses for your behavior and that’s fine, but i’m not going to continue talking in circles here. you and ezra are a thing, you made it blatantly clear in the groupchat, i would just have liked to have a heads up,” his voice is soft, but his word direct. there’s no ability to muddy what he’s saying. eyes narrow just barely, hands settling on his hips. there’s a slight allusion to his own life, instantly striking guilt in his stomach. he swallows before looking to the ground. “rebecca,” a sigh. “you know that dante is back, that it… means something to me,” eyes rise to meet the blonde’s again. “i don’t know what you want to know or when, but that’s all i have for you now…” it’s uncomfortable – he knows she’s still hurting, know this is still hard, but her moving on with ezra? it’s a little bit of a light at the end of the tunnel. like maybe he can release some of the shame and guilt that continues to bubble around their situation. “i just think… it seems like we’re not getting anywhere here.”

“i had to get certified when i first got home. i learned how to make a lot of drinks,” dante informs, happy to share these details, he hadn’t told much of anyone else, and a tinge of pride tugs at cherry lips. “might’ve been the only class i’ve ever liked taking.” in a wave, the brunette is reminded of affectionately distractible notes passed between young lovers, pencils balanced on noses, and disappointed glances from teachers. he’s grown so much. “hope it’s a good one,” dante parts with miles and his elderflowers. across the bar, he nearly overflows a flight of tequila shots, distractedly eyeing the man who then closes the distance between him and a certain perfectly curled brunette. he’d barely waited for dante to walk away. lips part, pulse enlivens, blazing in his neck. he tidies the shots and hurriedly delivers them, before he scurries back to the scene, catching the end of things. “so, i’m not here for long, but long enough to make some memories…” the stranger’s voice teases, and dante watches a hand outstretch whose path seems to be headed to miles’ forearm, the same skin dante had become mesmerized by, addicted to, that of which the bad student was so flawlessly relearning. he sets his jaw, the playfulness devoid, and he clears his throat, loudly, knuckles cracking against palms. this catches the attention of the man who looks to dante annoyedly. “it’s time for you to go,” dante suggests of the man whose proximity runs against dante’s skin like a scalding shower. “yeah, get lost.” his eyes are intently focused on the dark hues of their infiltrator who considers dante’s stature before lifting hands up in a surrender. “alright, man, whatever,” he mumbles before menacingly, he turns and smirks at miles, winking. “OKAY,” dante exclaims, affronted. "out.” he yells out to the back of the man who he can see is snickering. after a frozen moment, replaying the events in loop, dante cringes, feeling the blush rise to already roused cheeks as he keeps his eyes anywhere but on miles’, busying himself in some fake task behind the bar, flustered. 

the new information from dante doesn’t quite trigger in miles’s brain until he’s already walking away. it’s not news to him that most bartenders are required to take some sort of course, but the pride emanating from the boy he loves so dearly? it overtakes him, warming him with a satisfaction that he hasn’t felt in ages. school had never been dante’s strength, always finding himself at the edge of an instructor’s sword with his humorous antics and distractibility. ( not that miles was ever much help in these situations ) the drink is almost forgotten when the unwelcomed suitor draws near, but miles distracts himself from the sickeningly sweet words with the perfectly tart gimlet. that pride from before? it surges back, cheeks tinged a light pink at the thought of how many more drinks were to come. gimlets, old fashioneds, sours, martinis… he’d drink anything if sitting at this bar means watching him feel this way, do the thing that makes him happy. the flirtatious male is easy to ignore – not a single piece of miles has seen a soul in his heart eyes since dante happened to be on that boston-bound train. in fact, the alluring words being used nauseate him in such a way that he doesn’t quite know how to get out of the situation. he’s pulled from his thoughts by the dark eyed male, hand slipping onto tattooed skin for just a moment before dante’s presence draws both of their attention. heart drops to stomach, his initial instinct to worry that the bartender might find it in him to take this into his own hands. literally. but miles won’t step into this. not when the discomfort of another person flirting with him mixes with the realization that dante is, in fact, jealous? or so it seems. he steels his jaw, attempting to hold back smiles as he watches the scene play out, the man slinking off in defeat. it would never get old watching the honey-haired boy win. suddenly, he’s much more intoxicated by the man behind the bar than the gin cocktail before him. dizzy and buzzed, miles leans forward against the wooden bar, hovering off of the stool as a hand reaches out to dante. “sir,” he chuckles, waving his hand a little to get his attention. “i know you are… very busy, but could you answer a question for me,” wide grin. “just one - was that… were you just jealous?”

DIANNA: (attached: coupon code for guitarcenter.com)

DIANNA: it's only a 10% discount, tho. if you don't have time to stop by the shop, i can drop off some strings at the getaway or at dante's for you if you'd like

MILES: hmm thank you. i appreciate the code!

it’s no secret that the worn bar has become a haven for the oldest evers, giving him a sense of ambition. he’s grown fond of making light with the customers, sinking roots more deeply into the earth of lake wisteria with every shift. now, with a new goal of staying out of trouble, it’s a curtain regular whose smile could thaw northeast winters that keeps dante focused and contented. whenever there’s a moment free of drink requests or tasks to be done, the bartender is at the counter’s edge, chatting with miles, magnets pulling him towards the boy with which he wishes to rebuild so much. the slightest residual of their challenging night a few back lingers in simple smiles and wringing hands, but miles is here. isn’t that enough to free him of his own regret, even just a touch? “i agree honestly,” dante aligns, taking the towel from his shoulder to twist it in big hands, leaning elbows onto the counter on the bar’s other side. blues flash eagerly at the suggestion. “you know, it might not be on the menu, but i think one of our bartenders knows how to make that.” he mimics miles’ gesture, pointing to himself. “be right back.” pausing before he walks off, dante shapes a small curve to his lips, bashful. “also, i’m glad you’re here.” he moves away to make the cocktail, gin, lime juice, simple syrup, liqueur all combined in a shaker. as he tends, he glances up to find a set of targeted eyes on his….. not boyfriend sat in his stool. dante watches intently, heat rising in his neck with jealously. shaking his head – maybe he’s blowing things out of proportion, he returns to his work, running a citrus slice around a glass’ rim, propping it as garnish. “ta da!” he announces, setting the drink in front of miles. on the bar’s other end, a customer calls out for an order. “be right back,” he drums lightly, heading towards the request. 

when you’re young, so much of the world is new and wild and bright. just like the love dante and miles first shared. nothing quite overcomes that feeling of fresh experience, but it almost always ends. fizzles out, is forgotten in lieu of the next new thing, overtaken by another. in cases like this - for oldest hollis and evers - things fall apart because a small voice convinces you it’s the right thing. and yet, the same fresh, all consuming newness of fifteen year old love burns bright. even still. with all that could collapse them, with all that threatened them in between then and now... their paths converge once again. and it feels just like it used to. scarred and battered, their souls heal as they walk side by side. and that makes the in between worth it. no matter how hard it was. “you’re kidding,” miles winks at his bartender. ( yes, his. ) “i had no clue you could like, make drinks. wild,” he gently calls after him as he walks away to begin making the most ridiculous request of a drink. there’s been a set of dark hues boring holes into him ever since he arrived to the bar. digging deeper as though to gain some sense of who the tattooed boy is. most people at this bar are regulars, are people from lake wisteria, but wanderers find themselves here, too. hoping for a brief escape from the atrocities and tragedy in their lives. a much different scenario than the one that finds the brunette’s affinity for the old place. a getaway for most, an oasis for miles hollis. when he is inevitably pulled to look the direction of the patron, a smile is flashed his way. one that’s somewhere on the attractive spectrum but doesn’t quite settle well. a drink is set in front of him, grin on his lips. “my hero,” he coos, chuckling softly as his not boyfriend walks away. it’s but two beats before the intently staring patron sidles up beside miles, complimentary words, charming jokes, and a little too much proximity at the ready. not much of miles has the energy to push back too much, laughing every so often, attempting to put some distance between himself and the other. 

THEO: if you don't want me to go with you, then i won't. i just thought i'd offer help, idk.

THEO: i mean that's always an option. a bit drastic, but like a day trip somewhere wouldn't hurt, i think.

MILES: nah, we can do that! just been awhile, you know?

there are moments where rebe gets so caught up in miles that she’s not sure how they ended up here. when miles told her he was going back to lake wisteria for a bit, she should have simply helped him packed and told him to have fun. a place she once treasured and now it seemed to be cursed. “he’s my friend, miles. he’s been my friend my entire life.” did he really not expect rebe to confide in ezra after he encouraged her to talk to her friends. “and he doesn’t hate you.” at least, she didn’t think he did. had she suspected anything more than a general annoyance radiating between the two, it certainly would’ve driven a wedge between both of her relationships. there’s a beat. “the only other person i told was theo, and i love him, but it’s just strange to talk about any of this with him.” she’s trying to untangle his words in her head before she  says something to embarrass herself. “i know you didn’t mean it, but that kind of sounds like your suggesting that ezra cares about getting back at you more than he care about me.” rebe really did hope she was misunderstanding him. “miles, i’m not blaming you for any of this. i’m just asking you to understand that i’ve never been with anyone else until now and i’m still not sure when i’m supposed to have this conversation, with ezra, or with you, or with anyone else for that matter. it’s not like you and i told people the first week we started hooking up,” the girl explained, her voice remaining soft. “i’m not hurt, so you don’t have anything to worry about.” it was a lie that she forced herself to say, but she figured it was worth the pain in her chest if it meant that he didn’t have to worry about her. 

perhaps there’s some cognitive dissonance on both of their parts. an inability to fully understand the other’s position because they choose to forget one piece of information and replace it with another. all that miles can think is that rebe must be living on another planet if she ever thought that ezra didn’t hate him. anyone in their circle, in their groupchat, in their town could feel the utter disdain from the other male toward miles. it only seemed to be getting worse in the recent weeks – perhaps partly because the blonde forked over her biggest secret to the guy. “i find it odd that the two people you chose to tell are ezra and theo… don’t you have cj or lennon that you could dish to? ezra has never liked me,” he reminds her, shaking his head. a soft chuckle leaves his lips. what more can he say in this moment? everyone in his life seems to take his words and make sculptures of them that signify something far different than what he means. and it’s exhausting. he’s never seen so many pieces of art that make him so damn nauseated. “rebe. regardless, when you choose to say things in a group setting that indicate your relationship with ezra is more than friendly, maybe that’s when you should reach out to people who should know. theo and i aren’t exactly strangers to you and ezra. your excuses don’t negate the way you’ve made me feel,” he blinks a few times, taking a step back. “you’re also a terrible fucking liar, but i’ll take your words for what they are and trust you mean them,” miles swallows, hands slipping into his pockets. he isn’t sure this conversation needs to continue. “i’m sorry. i know none of this has a road map, but i’m still a little hurt. maybe we should talk a different time.”

all of her childhood memories, all of the pieces that have made her who she is, are tinted with the presence of one miles hollis. he’s the bright, smiley boy in the photos that her mom has up around the house, height marks eternally etched into the kitchen doorway, partner in crime extraordinaire. he has his mother’s laugh, her kindness, even if he doesn’t think so. there are things she knows: the physics required for throwing herself throw the air, how zac likes his crusts cut just so, the brave faces her friends put on when they’re struggling. there are things she knows, and the inner workings of miles hollis’ heart is one of them. when his breaks, she can feel hers breaking with it. that’s just how they work. for one brief second, she wonders how she doesn’t know. why didn’t theo tell her? but those things can wait, the only thing that matters right now is that he’s okay. the only thing that matters is him having some semblance of peace. it’s the only thing she can offer, even though she desperately wishes she could do more. she wraps her arms around him, closing her eyes to hold back tears as he sobs into her neck. one hand supports the back of his head as her fingers run through tousled curls. “ it’s okay, ” she whispers, pressing a kiss to his head. “ don’t apologize. it’s okay. delilah is one of the strongest people i know. you are one of the strongest people i know. she’s going to fight, she’s going to do anything she can not to leave you. ”

THEO: uhhh i can attempt to go for a run with you, but i can’t promise i’ll keep up.

THEO: do you really think facing it is the right thing? what if it just makes things worse?

THEO: yeah, i’ll be home. do you want help getting groceries? i’m already in town, i can just meet you there?

MILES: you don't have to hurt yourself. let's just keep it to family dinner. sure, we can.. grocery shop together, i guess.

cara’s known the hollis boys long enough to know when there’s a shift in their universe. she had chalked the change in the tides to the miracle of them finally getting along again. she had hope. but the notion that something is off has been invading her thoughts for the last few days. the request to meet in the treehouse isn’t altogether strange. it’s their spot, after all. it’s harboured their secrets and whispers and dreams for so long that they’re woven into its structure. but there’s something eclipsing the sun in their little world. she can see how dim the light in theo’s eyes have been, how that spark in both of them seems to have faded. but still, she has hope. until miles’ face comes into view and her stomach sinks. she leans against the solid wood as the information settles in, wondering briefly if it can hold the weight of her sorrow. it always happens to the best ones, she wants to say. she longs to tell him that it’s all going to be okay, that delilah’s going to get better. but how she can be sure? “ c’mere, ” she murmurs as she reaches out and closes the distance between them, shaky arms wrapping around him. 

THEO: no, i get it. but after last night, i just ... i wanna give you the opportunity to talk about it. which involves me shutting up about me, so here we are.

THEO: i know, it's okay. have you talked to dante about it?

THEO: it sucks that he's back, but don't let it get to you, okay?

THEO [UNSENT]: don't let him ruin all the work you've put in to get sober. i just got my brother back, i can't lose you like that.

THEO: we need a break from this town, somehow.

MILES: i'm just processing a lot and trying to clear my head ~ so if you wanna eat a kale salad, drink some celery juice, and go for a run with me, you're welcome to. :p

MILES: briefly.

MILES: seems like it follows me either way. guess facing it head on is a better option?

THEO: i don’t know, miles ...

THEO: you really scared me last night and i don’t think anything going on with me is half as important as what’s going on with you.

THEO: it’s been a really shitty week for us, hasn’t it?

MILES: i don't like the focus on me. which might sound like bullshit, but it's true.

MILES: i didn't mean to scare you. i was in shock. i've never seen dante like that and... that guy being back isn't great news for me.