#para22

RACHEL: It’s been a fantastic weekend.

Quinn had returned from Turks and Caicos (with some very titillating photographs) in the middle of last week, and Rachel’s show schedule for Independence Day had given her a rare Saturday evening free to celebrate with Quinn (and celebrate they had), and because of the holiday, Quinn gets to have Monday off as well. She’s been staying in the city with Rachel all weekend—a lovely, long weekend of which they’ve taken full advantage. Rachel had only needed to tear herself away from Quinn to race off to her Sunday performances, but then she’d come home to a hot meal and an even hotter blonde.

Waking up together this morning had been perfection, so it’s little wonder that Rachel is suddenly second-guessing the decision to invite the more unpleasant aspects of their reality to come crashing into their blissful idyll. But Quinn claims that she’s ready for this—well, as ready as she can be when Rachel strongly suspects she’s mostly doing this to make her happy—and her meeting with Brittany earlier this month had gone well enough. But Santana is another creature entirely.

Rachel chews nervously on her lower lip as she watches Quinn putter around in her kitchen, feeling a little blossom of warmth in her chest at how comfortable Quinn is in her apartment. She wants to make sure she stays that way.

“Are you sure you still want to do this? Because it’s not too late to cancel.”

QUINN: She’s busy cutting up fresh pineapple for a fruit salad—having volunteered to make brunch for her old friends—when Rachel asks her question. Quinn pauses, placing the knife down on the cutting board, and looks up, meeting Rachel’s concerned gaze and feeling herself relax a touch.

“I’d be lying if I said I was completely sure,” she admits, “but I need to do this. I’ve made so many mistakes in the past, Rachel, and I need to start making up for them.”

RACHEL: With a nod of understanding, Rachel steps closer to her girlfriend, slipping her arms around Quinn’s waist. She can’t really argue the point, though Quinn’s reasons for keeping her distance had been valid—to her mind anyway. There’s nothing Rachel wants more than for Quinn to be able to reconnect with her—their—friends.

But—

“You’ll tell me if it gets to be too much?” she asks, gazing into Quinn’s eyes. “Because, honestly, I’m not sure which version of Santana is going to show up for brunch.”

Santana had promised to play nice (and Brittany had assured Rachel she’d make sure her wife keeps that promise) but Santana’s version of nice is making sure the only sharp object she brings into the room in her tongue.

QUINN: “I promise,” Quinn replies. Her lips quirk up then. “And I can handle Santana.”

And it’s true, despite the sliver of worry Quinn spots in Rachel’s gaze. She and Santana have never had the most steady of friendships, but Quinn knows how to handle all sides of Santana—so long as she’s emotionally prepared.

Which she absolutely is this time. Their last encounter at the Jets Draft Party was kind of a sucker punch.

Rachel’s mouth opens, as if to object, but Quinn cuts her off—taking advantage of their proximity and capturing her girlfriend’s lips in a sweet kiss.

RACHEL: Her concerns about what Quinn’s idea of handling Santana might entail fade into a fuzzy haze of unimportance the moment Quinn’s lips touch hers, and Rachel melts further into her girlfriend’s toned, freshly tanned body, welcoming her kiss. It takes every ounce of her willpower not to drag Quinn right back into her bedroom, and she’s once again second-guessing the invitation to Brittany and Santana for entirely different reasons.

Eventually, she manages to drag her mouth away from Quinn’s and decides to allow her deliberate attempt at a distraction to pass.

“Mmm. Okay then. What can I do to help you complete your culinary masterpiece?”

QUINN: Her eyes flutter open, and Quinn already misses the feeling of her mouth against Rachel’s.

“Just make yourself comfortable. I’ve got it,” she insists, reluctantly releasing her hold on Rachel. “I won’t start making the omelets and imitation sausage until Brittany and Santana actually get here so that the food is warm.”

Having something to do will also help keep Quinn from immediately having to engage with Santana.

RACHEL: “You’re so sexy when you cook vegetarian,” Rachel says cheekily, but really, she loves how willing Quinn has been to go meatless when she’s in Rachel’s company.

Quinn chuckles, shaking her head indulgently before she turns to pick up the knife again. Rachel snatches a piece of the pineapple before Quinn can go back to cutting it, popping it in her mouth as Quinn huffs out her name in warning and glares at her playfully.

Rachel smiles around the sweet tang of the fruit and leans back against the counter, content to watch Quinn work until their guests arrive.

QUINN: She tries not to let herself get distracted by Rachel’s gaze and close proximity as she finishes cutting up the pineapple before adding it to the bowl that already contains fresh strawberries, watermelon, cantaloupe, and grapes.

Despite the ripple of nervousness at her impending reunion with Santana, Quinn is more content than she has been in a long time. This weekend was exactly what she needed, and Rachel’s apartment almost feels like a home away from home.

It’s sometimes hard to believe that she’s ended up here, but Quinn isn’t willing to let it go. She wants to make this last.

Quinn turns to look at Rachel and offers her a soft smile, feeling warmth blossom in her chest as her girlfriend returns it with a smile of her own.

A sharp knock interrupts the moment, and Quinn feels her nerves tick up as her gaze shifts toward the door.

RACHEL: She’s been so thoroughly caught up in watching Quinn gracefully move around her kitchen that the sudden knock makes Rachel jump. She watches hazel eyes dart to the door in mild trepidation, and she offers Quinn a reassuring smile.

“We’ve got this,” she promises, as much for her own sake as for Quinn’s. Stepping closer, Rachel leans in to brush a soft kiss across Quinn’s cheek.

“I’m gonna go let them in before Santana beats down my door.”

There’s another knock just then—sharper than the first—to punctuate her point, and Rachel rolls her eyes at Santana’s predictable impatience.

“Come with me?” she prompts, holding out her hand to Quinn in invitation.

QUINN: She takes Rachel’s hand without hesitation, feeling her nerves settle somewhat as they walk hand-in-hand toward the door. Quinn is hoping for the best but expecting the worst in regards to this latest meeting with Santana, but having Rachel (and Brittany) to act as a buffer is immeasurably helpful.

There’s yet another impatient knock, and Quinn can’t help but shake her head in mild amusement as Rachel goes to open the door, even though her hand involuntarily grips Rachel’s tighter.

RACHEL: After taking a fortifying breath, Rachel pulls open the door to find Brittany wearing a wide smile and Santana—well, she finds Santana.

“Took you long enough,” Santana grumbles, accusatory gaze moving between Rachel and Quinn.

Rachel rolls her eyes. “Good morning to you too, Santana. Lovely to see you.”

“Yeah. Whatevs,” Santana responds flippantly, side-eying Quinn as she pushes past them into the apartment.

Rachel feels Quinn tense up even more, and she gives her hand a comforting squeeze. If Santana is already in bitch mode, then Rachel has no problem kicking her out right back out on her ass.

“Wow, you look so coupley,” Brittany chirps as she enters the apartment, pausing to tug Rachel into a crushing hug before doing the same to Quinn, who seems to relax at the contact.

“Yeah, well they should, Britts,” Santana chimes in with faux sweetness. “Quinnie Pooh’s had nearly a year to get all coupley with Rachel here. We just didn’t get an invite to see it until now.”

QUINN: She feels her hackles rise at Santana’s comment, but Quinn bites her tongue, having mentally prepared for the worst. She doesn’t want to escalate things into a fight immediately, and, deep down, Quinn understands why Santana’s not exactly enamored with her.

Also, having Brittany’s arms still tightly wrapped around her in a hug helps keep her from verbally lashing out.

“Santana,” Brittany chides her wife as she releases her hold on Quinn and turns her gaze toward Santana. “You promised you wouldn’t let your claws out.”

“I said I would try,” Santana replies with a shrug before glaring at Quinn, who does her best to keep a poker face.

But out of the corner of her eye, she sees that Rachel is doing no such thing.

RACHEL: “If you ever want another invitation, then you’ll try harder,” Rachel warns, taking a step forward and wrapping a protective arm around Quinn’s waist.

She knows Santana is still nursing her own hurt feelings that it’s taken this long for Quinn to agree to see her again, but how can she not see that this is exactly why.

“You’re one of my oldest friends, Santana, but Quinn is my girlfriend now. If you’re not willing to give her a chance…”

“I am, okay,” Santana cuts her off huffily, darting her eyes away, even as Brittany moves to her side, rubbing her arm supportively. “I mean, I’m here.”

Rachel knows it’s as much of an admission as Santana is willing to offer right now that wants to make things right with Quinn.

QUINN: Rachel’s touch is like an anchor, and Quinn unconsciously leans into it as she watches Brittany seemingly temper Santana’s ‘claws.’

“And I appreciate that,” Quinn says, knowing that it’s only fair that she extends the same effort.

Santana meets her eyes then, and Quinn can still see the distrust plain as day, but the hostility has lessened.

“I messed up,” she continues. “And I want to make things right.”

RACHEL: Santana’s dark eyes assess Quinn for a long moment.

“You know that’s not gonna happen in a day, right?” Santana challenges. There’s no malice in the question—simply a delivery of the cold, hard facts. “I mean, you cut us out for six years.” Quinn purses her lips at the unnecessary reminder, giving a short, jerky nod of acknowledgement before Santana’s gaze darts to Rachel. “And you basically did the same for six months just because Quinn asked you to cover for her ass.”

“San,” Brittany warns softly.

“No, she’s right,” Rachel answers, feeling her own guilt flair up at having kept her relationship with Quinn a secret from her friends for so long. “I’m sorry that what I did hurt you, Santana. My only explanation is that I thought it was the right thing at the time.”

And if given a choice, she’d probably do the same again if that’s what Quinn needed her to do.

QUINN: “I’m sorry too,” Quinn adds softly but emphatically, drawing Santana’s gaze back to hazel eyes. “And I know that this is going to take time. I need to earn your forgiveness.”

“I want to believe you, Quinn, I do,” Santana replies after a beat, curling her fingers around Brittany’s free hand. “But you cut me deep.”

Quinn swallows guiltily then. Even though she never meant to hurt anyone, that’s exactly what she did. It’s what she’s always done, it seems.

“I’m sorry,” she repeats, wishing there were better words to convey.

RACHEL: Santana sighs heavily, nodding. “I guess we’ll try this thing then.”

Brittany beams at her wife, and then not-so-subtly pokes her side. “Aaand,” she prompts.

Santana huffs out a put-upon breath. “And, you know, I’m sorry too,” she rushes out, averting her eyes away from Quinn. “For showing up at your Rah-Rah convention,” she clarifies with a roll of her eyes. “That wasn’t cool.”

“It really wasn’t,” Rachel agrees with a frown, remembering the panic she’d felt when Quinn disappeared that night. She glances at Quinn then, wondering if Santana’s version of an apology will be enough for her.

QUINN: It wasn’t cool, but then Santana hadn’t intended to trigger Quinn. She was looking out for Rachel, in her uniquely Santana kind of way. Quinn understands that now, and she’s glad that Rachel has someone like that in her life.

“Apology accepted,” she replies sincerely, earning a stiff nod from Santana, another pleased look from Brittany, and Rachel relaxing her hold around Quinn’s waist.

RACHEL: First potential landmine sidestepped, Rachel feels some of her tension melt away. “This is good,” she decides, smiling at Quinn before glancing back to Santana and Brittany. “We can move on from our past mistakes and start fresh.”

Brittany claps her hands in enthusiastic agreement. “Yay. We can all be friends again.”

Santana rolls her eyes again. “Yeah. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, babe,” she warns her wife, strolling further into the living room and eyeing Quinn on her way. “But-I’m-A-Cheerleader here has a ways to go before she earns my forgiveness. But I’m game to let her turn some cartwheels for me in the meantime.”

QUINN: She purses her lips and tries to let Santana’s words roll off her back despite the way they get under her skin. After all, it’s exactly what Quinn promised she would do—put in the effort to make things right.

“Fair enough,” Quinn agrees after a beat. “As for cartwheels, I’m pretty good in the kitchen. What kind of omelets would everyone like?”

RACHEL: Quinn already knows how Rachel likes her omelets, so she decides to let her friends place their orders, which Brittany happily does.

“Put lots of cheese in mine,” she instructs, snagging Santana’s hand on her way to the sofa. “Like, an omelet fondue.” She practically falls back into the cushions with a graceful bounce before tugging Santana down beside her.

Santana’s expression softens as she settles next to her wife—hands still joined together. “Throw some cheese in mine too. And whatever meat you managed to smuggle past Berry.”

QUINN: She smirks slightly at Santana’s request. There is zero actual meat in Rachel’s apartment, but Quinn is curious if she can trick Santana into thinking some of the fake ham is the real thing.

Turning to face Rachel, Quinn wraps her arm around her girlfriend’s waist and leans in to softly say, “Go relax and enjoy yourself while I go turn cartwheels.”

RACHEL: Quinn fails to mention to Santana that she’s only cooking with meat substitutes today, and Rachel suppresses a grin as she gazes at her sneaky girlfriend.

Rachel has managed to grit her teeth and fry up some bacon for her friends in the past, of course, but it’s typically been a way to butter them up when she’s needed to ask for their help with something or to apologize for something she’s done wrong—like not telling them about Quinn for nearly six months. And she’s also cooked it for Quinn as a means of impressing her, but Quinn had volunteered to be in charge of brunch today, and Rachel had happily embraced the opportunity to let Quinn take over her kitchen—which remains blissfully meat-free today.

“Thanks, baby,” Rachel murmurs, bouncing onto her toes to brush a quick kiss across Quinn’s cheek. “Although,” she considers, pulling back with a smirk of her own, “I do enjoy watching you flex those cartwheel-turning muscles.”

She’s rewarded with an almost bashful smile and the slight pinkening of Quinn’s cheeks—and Santana’s muttered, “So freaking charming.”

Brittany bumps her shoulder into Santana. “Don’t be mean,” she chastises lowly before smiling at Rachel and Quinn. “I think you guys are cute together. And super hot. I’m glad Rachel found you again, Quinn.”

QUINN: “Me too,” she agrees with a soft smile, face still warm from Rachel’s comment.

Quinn doesn’t miss Santana rolling her eyes, but thankfully, she doesn’t say anything.

Rachel presses one more kiss against Quinn’s cheek before happily joining her friends in the living room.

‘So far, so good,’ Quinn thinks as she moves back into the kitchen and gets to work on making the rest of brunch. As she cracks and whisks the eggs into a bowl, Quinn can’t help but keep an ear on the conversation in the living room.

RACHEL: Sinking down into the chair that’s adjacent to the sofa, Rachel smiles happily at her friends. “I want to thank you both again for giving Quinn another chance.”

“Yeah, well...it’s not like we really have a choice if we want to hang out with you,” Santana grumbles, making Brittany’s amiable grin falter slightly. “You’re practically super-glued to her when you’re not at the theater.”

“I’m not,” Rachel denies with a frown—although she does spend as much of her free time with Quinn as she’s able to.

“You shouldn’t use Super Glue,” Brittany advises seriously. “It’s a really bad sex toy. Trust me.”

Rachel pauses, trying to shake off the mental image, while Santana only shakes her head.

“Look. I get it, okay,” Santana continues lowly. “She’s still hot, and you finally get a chance at the original model instead of dating those bitchy imitations.” Rachel’s frown deepens at Santana’s unfiltered assessment of the women she’s dated since she came out, and she spares a quick glance to the kitchen to see if Quinn is listening. Her girlfriend is still whisking eggs, so Rachel assumes that she’s not paying close attention. “And, yeah, I’m giving her a chance,” Santana assures her again, “but just know it’s gonna be a long time before I can really trust her.”

With a sigh, Rachel slumps back into her chair. “I know,” she concedes sullenly, wishing Santana could be as affable as Brittany.

QUINN: It’s hard not to feel guilty and angry at herself for letting things get so messed up with her oldest friends, even though intellectually Quinn completely gets it. Hell, she’d probably feel exactly the same way as Santana does if the roles were reversed.

Quinn starts cooking the omelets, and as she does, she tries to remember what she and Dr. Herrara have been talking about in therapy—focusing on the opportunity she has now and that her feelings of guilt and anger won’t last forever—and she feels some of her frustration subside.

RACHEL: “What Santana is trying to say…”

“I said what I was trying to say.”

“...is that we really just want you to be happy,” Brittany finishes, ignoring her wife’s petulant interruption. “And you seem happy. I mean, you don’t look super happy right now,” she observes with a pout, “but I know that’s because Santana is being all growly. You looked really happy when we first got here though.”

Rachel feels her lips curve upwards again—because Brittany is right. “I am happy. Quinn makes me happy.”

Brittany nods, smiling again, completely validated in her opinion. But Santana—

“Guess crazy cheerleader Barbie’s as good in the bedroom as she seem to be in the kitchen,” she muses with an obnoxious smirk.

And Rachel isn’t quite certain if the heat she feels crawling up her neck is embarrassment or irritation. She really, really hopes Quinn can’t hear them over the sound of sizzling eggs.

QUINN: She raises an eyebrow at Santana’s latest comment, trying to let the “crazy” part roll off her back, which is kind of easy when she thinks of just how many times she made Rachel come this weekend.

“It’s true, I am pretty good in the kitchen,” Quinn agrees, lifting her gaze and sending a smirk of her own in Santana’s direction.

“Oh, I remember,” she replies before leaning into her wife’s body. “But no one is better at cooking than Brits.”

“Wait, are we actually talking about cooking?” Brittany asks, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Because I still find recipes confusing.”

RACHEL: They’re absolutely not talking about the kitchen, Rachel realizes with a flush of definite irritation this time as she’s forced to remember that Santana had once (twice, damn it!) experienced Quinn’s ‘kitchen’ skills first hand. And of course Quinn would be listening to them for that!

“No, we are not,” Rachel answers Brittany before frowning at Santana. “But I assure you that Quinn doesn’t need to be drunk to cook in my kitchen.

QUINN: “Ouch, Berry,” Santana replies. “You make it sound like I take advantage of women. I’m not Puckerman.”

Quinn’s eyes narrow at the reminder of her disaster of a first time. The only good thing to come from that was Beth, but everything before that was pretty much hell.

“Thank God for that,” Quinn agrees before turning her attention back to finishing the omelets. Liquid courage definitely helped give Quinn the push to flirt and dance with Santana that night, but unlike with Puck, she was the one in control the entire time.

Not that any of this matters now. She’s with Rachel, and there’s nothing else like being intimate with someone she loves and trusts.

RACHEL: “Of course you’re nothing like Noah,” Rachel admits a bit sheepishly. “I’m sorry. But some of us would prefer not to be reminded of your...cooking lessons,” she supplies with a wry smile, carrying on with the ridiculous euphemism, “with Quinn.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Santana concedes, rolling her own eyes. “But, I mean, it’s not like you’re not benefiting.” She gestures toward Quinn. “Someone had to unpress that lemon.”

“I unpressed myself, thank you very much,” Quinn calls out.

“Not how I remember it, Blondie.”

“Your wife is sitting right there,” Rachel reminds Santana in exasperation.

“Oh, it’s cool,” Brittany dismisses with an unconcerned wave. “I know Quinn was just the next best blonde. And Santana was, like, the next best brunette. Right, Quinn?” she directs to Quinn in the kitchen.

Rachel’s eyebrow inches up as she glances at Quinn, curious to hear what she’ll say.

QUINN: She’s not sure what’s more uncomfortable—Santana being pissed at her or the fact that her two-time thing with Santana is now being discussed so casually. Granted, it’s just Brittany and Santana who are being nonchalant about it. Even only seeing her girlfriend from behind, Quinn can tell that Rachel’s not exactly enjoying this.

“No,” Quinn says with a shake of her head. And yes, part of what Brittany says is true—there were moments when she forgot it was Santana between her legs because she wanted so badly for it to be Rachel. “No offense, Santana, but Rachel is—and always has been—in another stratosphere. No one else comes close.”

RACHEL: When Quinn says ‘no,’ Rachel’s whole body goes tense. For just a moment, she actually imagines Quinn might be admitting that she’d had some sort of real feelings for Santana on that wretched night, but then she goes on to imply that Santana wasn’t even a close second choice, and—

Rachel blushes, feeling warm all over despite the conversation having rapidly swirled into the gutter thanks to Santana’s need to keep poking a metaphorical stick at Quinn. And probably at Rachel too for her months of lying and evading and avoiding.

She smiles adoringly at Quinn. “The feeling is very mutual,” she tells her girlfriend, watching her return the smile as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before turning back to her food preparation.

“You two are gonna make me lose my appetite,” Santana grumbles.

Rachel turns to flash a smug smile at Santana, surprised to find something that looks suspiciously like grudging approval on her face, and the somewhat bitchy retort she’d planned dies on her lips.

Brittany pats Santana on the leg, grinning. “I think they’re kinda sweet. And I’m totally hungry.”

QUINN: Her cheeks are flush from Rachel’s compliment, but Quinn is still focused on the task at hand. “Good, because breakfast is ready,” she declares before placing each omelet onto a plate, adding generous helpings of potatoes and fake sausage.

Having finished preparing breakfast, Quinn glances up then, meeting Rachel’s attentive gaze, and she feels herself practically melt.

And for the millionth time, Quinn wonders how she got so lucky. Not just with Rachel, but getting a second chance with Santana and Brittany—the former obviously being a challenge, but for reasons Quinn can’t help but admire.

RACHEL: Brittany bounces off the sofa almost immediately, tugging Santana up with her, and Rachel smiles at her friends. Even with Santana being stubbornly difficult as usual, she’s so glad that they’re finally getting a chance to spend time together with Quinn.

Rachel has been a fifth wheel with her happily married friends for too long. Neither Kurt nor Santana had particularly liked Riley very much—at least, not after they’d found out how snippy and controlling she could be whenever her jealous streak was roused. And of course, Riley had never wanted to act too coupley in public since she’s not really out. And none of the people Rachel had dated before meeting Quinn again had felt important enough to warrant an invitation to spend time with her friends.

She really wants this to work out—for Quinn to become a part of their group again, and not just because she’s Rachel’s significant other. She thinks it could be good for Quinn. Or, well—she hopes it might be.

Benji came back into the house, a few bottles of wine in a reusable grocery bag. He had really been trying to pick more creative ways of dealing with this giant tragedy that had been bestowed upon him, but after his fight with Kurt and his argument with Marley added more fuel to the fire, he had run out of other ways to cope. He needed to get a little drunk. And he needed to do it with the two people he loved. 

 “Guys? I’m back from the store,” he called, sitting down on the sofa slowly in an attempt not to hurt his bruised stomach further. “Can someone grab cups and someone else pick a show?”

"I call picking a show!" Topher answered from his room as he finished writing up a short story and made way for the living room. "I know you specified shit TV in the text, but does Brooklyn Nine-Nine sound alright? If not, then I imagine that we can find some ridiculous reality show to make fun of or just have as background noise. Whatever we want to call it," he rattled off once he'd gotten close to the coffee table and picked up the remote. 

 The former Serpent took a seat in his favorite chair and allowed himself a few moments to completely relax. Hopefully, things would go well or as well as they could go with everything considered. "All in favor of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, say aye. Those opposed, say nay and list the show of your choice."

Franco had been sitting in his bedroom thinking about the last few days. In a perfect world, the three of them could live in harmony. In his perfect world, he would have used the heroin hidden in one of his drawers and gone and pretended it was OK but that's not how this was going to work and he knew it. 

He sighed as he was called, grabbed the beer he'd been drinking, and walked to the lounge, "Brooklyn 99 is fine" he said, taking a seat in an armchair and swinging his legs over the side, "I'll watch whatever. I'm mainly here for the drinks anyway" he said, a little bit quieter then normal. This was the first time he'd be spending a night in with whatever this relationship was, and he was concerned.

"Aye," Benji responded, "I know you're the odd man out, Toph, so B99 definitely works for me." He got one bottle of wine out of the bag and set it on the coffee table, then got up to grab cups and a wine opener. "Franc, since you didn't pick a show, cups were technically your job, Baby," he teased as he sat back down, his mind a bit too preoccupied to notice how his fiancé was feeling. 

He poured himself a glass of wine, then poured one for Franco as well. He downed his glass and started to refill it as he turned to his best friend. "Toph, you sure you don't want any? I definitely bought enough."

"Thank you both," Topher simply responded as he got the show started up. His gaze flicked between Benji and Franco for a few moments as uneasiness settled in once more. Sure, he'd been in relationships before, but those had been in attempts to play straight. Plus, he may have been on board with the idea from the get go, yet that did nothing to eliminate the feeling that he was on uncharted territory. So, the 18 year old let his attention drift to the TV and Brooklyn 99. 

Then Benji's voice brought him right back and he gave a light wave of dismissal. "Thank you very much Ben, but I'm fine. Besides, I'd rather not discover what effect wine has on me. If beer turns me into a flirty drunk, who knows what the hell wine will do?"

Franco took the glass of wine of the table and drank it in two quick gulps, bringing the glass back down and pushing it over to Benji, "Then  drink beer" he said, raising an eyebrow at Topher, "Being sober is going to get boring real quick" he said. He fidgeted with his hands and stared at the television, "Maybe if we call play a drinking game or something, get to know each other better?"

"You can do whatever you want, Toph. Don't feel pressured," Benji stressed, refilling Franco's glass and sliding back over to him. He downed one more glass himself, refilled it, then leaned back, content that that was enough for him to get a buzz. With two glasses down, he was ready to take smaller sips throughout the night just to keep himself tipsy--he had already promised Topher that he wouldn't get too sloppy. "Drinking game sounds fun, what do you say, Toph? You can drink water or soda or something but still play?"

"Yeah, let me get a Pepsi and we can get the fun started," Topher answered as he stood up in order to head for the kitchen. On one hand, maybe Franco had a point about how being sober would end up boring? On the other, he had more than enough combined first and second hand experience with drinking to immediately put him off of it. "Maybe later in the night, I don't know," he remarked over his shoulder as he grabbed a bottle of Pepsi from the fridge then opened it as he headed back for the living room. "But what drinking game shall we be playing tonight, gents? There's a whole wide world of them."

Franco laughed and shook his head, "Well, I'm not going to get to know you playing Ring of Fire am I?" he said. His mood was confusing for even him but he knew he had to bite his tongue and try this, "Never have I ever.... We get to find out some real interesting things about each other".

Benji fake gagged at the word 'Pepsi'. "You're lucky I love you, otherwise I wouldn't even let you keep that in the house, Toph," he said casually, stretching out on the sofa since everyone else had opted for chairs. At the mention of 'Never Have I Ever', he clapped his hands. "Hell yeah! If you've done it, one sip. If you're the only one who's done it, three sips. That's how we play on campus." He paused to think, then continued, "I'll go first: Never Have I Ever kissed a girl."

Topher jokingly flipped Benji off as he fired back, "You and I both know I don't have the fanciest palate around. But you're right, I'm so damn lucky to have your love in my life." Then when the question hit his ears, he opened the Pepsi and took a sip of it. "Real quick disclaimer, it was back in high school and I was trying to play straight back then."

Franco rolled his eyes and took a sip of his wine, "Of course I have kissed a girl.... Not the first party I've been at guys" he said looking to the floor and clearing his throat, "Never have I ever had sex with a girl" and he smiled, he'd been close with an old friend  but it just never happened.

Benji laughed, giving a small smile. "Platinum Star Gay, thank you. Not even close." He set his cup down on the table, then turned to Toph, both to see his reaction and to hear what his first 'Never Have I Ever' would be.

"Yeah, no." Topher tapped the armrest of his chair as he considered his question for a few moments then a Cheshire Cat grin crossed his features. "Never have I ever given a stranger a fake phone number," and with that, he took a sip of Pepsi.

Franco watched Topher drink and raised an eyebrow, "Better not have been me" he warned, a half joke to his tone before he drunk his own drink and nodded, "Some girls can be crazy".

Benji took a large gulp of his drink, then laughed. "That one I've definitely done a million times. The joys of being the 'type' of every creepy gay from here to Greendale." He took another sip for good measure, then gave his next prompt. "Never Have I Ever played a sport. A traditional one, I guess. Dance, Krav, and Free-Running aren't like... sports your whole team goes to championships for. Well, you kinda do for dance. But it's different." He could tell by the rambling that he was already getting tipsy. Maybe two cups to start was a little too much. ...Had he eaten today?

"I don't recall giving you a fake phone number. But I've definitely given one to around five girls and three guys," Topher addressed Franco then gave his Pepsi another sip when Benji's question got his attention. "Soccer and ice hockey. Dance too. Band if you count that," he rattled off then took a moment to set his Pepsi down and lightly stretch. He didn't want to fall asleep too soon and bring the night to an early end, plus he just generally wanted to move around a bit.

Franco drank his drink and nodded, "Boxing. Always has been. Used to box all the time" he explained. He thought for a moment about his next one, so many good ones bringing back memories he'd rather forget, "Never have I ever smoked weed" he asked, downing the rest of his drink and watching the other two.

Benji hesitated, but then took a gulp of wine, already a little too tipsy to better pace himself. "I've never smoked weed, but I've definitely... y'know, partook," he started to laugh at himself and his odd wording, then took a sip again, not remembering if he already had. "But only once. And never again."

Topher gave a light chuckle as he shook his head. "Never have and never will," he answered then gave his next question a few moments of consideration. "Okay, here's a zinger. Never have I ever snuck into a party. Just for the sake of it, school dances from back in the day also count."

Franco raised an eyebrow, "You really think that's a zinger? Sneaking into a party?" he asked. If they thought that was a zinger, then they were very wrong, "I don't even need to drink cause I never needed to sneak anywhere".

Benji gave a confused look as well. "I mean, I've definitely needed to sneak places, but a party? Like, you weren't invited but came anyway type thing? I've never actually wanted to go to parties in high school. Being one of the only Southsiders going to Riverdale High... those guys were dicks." He waved off the thoughts of high school and leaned back as he thought of another question. "...Never have I ever gotten a lap dance?"

"What can I say? Don't really get out much and I don't mind forking over money for a ticket or as an entry fee," the former Serpent fired back as he gave a shrug then shook his head once again. "Again, I don't really get out much and have never had that sort of opportunity pop up, if that makes any sense whatso-fucking-ever. C'est la vie, guys, c'est la vie."

Franco smirked and bit his lip, drinking a large amount of his drink and looking back up, "I would have done you all the favour of lying about it but you know, Benji would have known if I was" he said. He couldn't believe he'd said it and he dipped his head, not wanting to the looks on the boys faces as they cottoned on to what he said. He thought about his question, "Never have I ever, had sex in a car" he asked, before drinking more drink

"Baby, shut up!" Benji replied quickly, lightly swatting at Franco. "It was one time. I had just come back from a party and I was a little tipsy. ...For someone who hates being in charge, you sure liked it. That's all I have to say," he added, taking a sip of his wine before he realized what he had let loose. "Errr, I meant--...I'm kinda drunk already," he slurred.

"And that is my cue to leave," Topher remarked in a semi-joking tone as he pushed himself out of his chair once again. "By the way, not actually walking out of the house. Just going to the kitchen because I'm hungry." Not a complete lie, he'd been feeling rather peckish for the last few minutes. "Never have I ever lied about myself in order to get a date," he called then took a drink. Again, trying to play straight during high school.

Franco laughed and bit his lip, "Hey, you were asking for it" he said once Topher was out the room, "I only insinuated what happened, you went for it big style". He heard the question called back and took a drink, "I lied to you by saying I wanted to wind up".

Benji laughed harder--if he wasn't already laying down on the sofa, he probably would've fallen over--"I didn't mean to! I'm drunk! You know how ramble-y I get when I'm drunk." When Franco spoke again, he shrugged. "That's barely a lie. You came clean as soon as I tried to go on a Tinder date with someone else. ...Doesn't matter anyway, the stupid app kept deleting itself from my phone. Glitchy piece of crap," he murmured, sipping his wine.

As Topher walked back into the living room with a container that held some of his grandma's chocolate chip mini muffins, the Tinder comment caught him off guard and he had to stifle some chuckles. He'd forgotten all about his multiple covert operations of deleting the app in question from Benji's phone. "But hey, do you guys want to take a tiny break to snack or do you want to keep the game going?"

Franco shrugged his shoulders, "I'm not all that hungry if I'm honest" he admitted, his appetite had been lacking recently, "I think I'll just drink and watch some TV". He still hadn't felt comfortable, the game not really relaxing him at all.

"Muffins!" Benji shouted, sitting up from the couch to grab a handful out the tin. He started to eat them, far too gone to notice any of the tension in the room. Still chewing, he leaned back onto the sofa, a smile plastered on his face. "We can just talk if you want!" He grinned, "I love you guys... you both drive me wild. I'm glad we're trying this whole thing out, but if it doesn't work, just tell me, okay? I don't want anyone unhappy."

Topher gave another light laugh as he sat back down in his chair and answered, "Love you too Ben. I think we're off to an alright start so far, but I'll keep you posted if anything changes. Don't want either of you to be unhappy either." As he took a few moments to eat a muffin, then a second one, his thought process started to drift. 

"But I do believe that I promised you guys some apologies and the first one is sorry that I couldn't have picked a better time. But I do want to make a blanket one from the bottom of my heart. I'm incredibly sorry for my past dickish behavior. I wish I could explain away what happened, but the truth is I honestly don't know and you guys might have differing opinions for why I did it. All the same though, I do mean what I'm saying right here and right now. I want the best for you both and even though I'm far from it, I'll do my best to bring something to the table with this whole poly deal."

Franco tried to ignore the 'I love yous' from the other boys but he had to take a deep breath as he did, "I said I would try didn't I? Give me a chance to try" he said, a grumpy tone to his voice. Franco scoffed at the apology, "Pretty sure the thing you were meant to apologise for was punching me in the face? You know, when you gave me a bloody nose". 

He paused before adding, "You want to know something Topher, it isn't easy being with me. I'm an ex addict, I get mood swings and cravings and I can be nasty when I do. I have night terrors from the time I was kidnapped, which you know all too well about cause you were there when it all went down... You can't react by punching me in the face every time".

Topher rubbed the back of his neck as he listened to Franco then took a deep breath as he started to choose his words very carefully. "And I'm sorry for that, I'll forever be sorry for that. We're all learning here in different ways and at different paces. But I'm more than willing to put in the work to help us all come together. I'm more than willing to have your back, continue setting aside past differences, and adjusting to the present." 

"I'm a real rat bastard when I want to be, that punch was more than enough proof of that. I can't turn it off completely, but it can be focused elsewhere so I can work on making things better between us. I do want to make things right, starting here and now. So you have my word that I'll learn better ways to handle things and once again, I'm sorry for punching you."

Benji was still drunkenly eating the last of his muffins during Franco outburst, but by the time Topher had responded, he had finally finished, swallowed, and started to sit up so he could look both of his roommates in the eye. "This is good," he said, trying his best to be a mediator, but the slur in his voice made it difficult. 

"If we wanna move forward, we need to air all of this out. It's the only way we can discuss ways to address everything that's happened, grow from it, and make sure not to do it again. ...Does anyone wanna air anything out about me? We're not gonna move on together until it's all out in the open, y'know."

Franco scoffed, "No, I don't have anything to say about you babe, cause you are the one who's dealt with my shit for too long now". He turned his focus back to Topher, "You knew what I'd been through Toph, you knew the hell I endured when I went missing. You know I've never fully recovered. Physically I'm fine but mentally, I'm fucked. Punching me in the face, cause I was freaking out... Not cool dude. You know the nightmares I had over that shit?". He paused and pushed himself upwards, "I can't do this right now" he said, tears filling his eyes, "I need a cigarette and five minutes to myself" and he headed to the front door.

"I also don't have anything bad to say about you Ben," Topher responded in his usual calm tone then managed to nod in understanding way as he listened once again. A few thousand more reassurances loaded themselves on the tip of his tongue, but he could barely muster up the courage. Finally though, in a low tone, he added, "Again, I'm willing to learn from my mistakes so I can handle things better down the road. It won't happen again." "And you can hold me to that. Both of you," he remarked as he pulled his sweatshirt hood up over his face.

Benji frowned--he wasn't expecting their first interaction as a trio to end up like this--especially with him too drunk to properly mediate. However, what's done was done now. At this point, the best thing the three of them could do was recover from this bump as smoothly as they could manage--in Ben's mind, they was they moved from this moment would be a great indicator of whether they were all wasting their time trying to get this relationship to work. 

 "Okay, Baby. Take a quick smoke break. We'll be here to talk more when you get back. Don't take too long," he said softly, turning to face Topher. "Don't cover your face," Benji reprimanded lightly. He already had a plan on how to try to give Topher a crash course on how to deal with Franco when he gets like this.

"Why shouldn't I?" Topher simply inquired, yet he pulled the hood down just a hint all the same. He was torn between remorse for past actions and annoyance that apparently, he couldn't do anything right. "I'm in territory that I shouldn't be in," he muttered under his breath as his blue eyed gaze trained itself on Brooklyn 99 once more. His mental gears were already turning and it was taking all of his resolve to take off for his room like a little kid.

Benji sighed, sitting up so he could look in Topher's eyes as well as possible given how off-balance all the drinking had made him. "Listen... Franc is a really tough egg to crack, but once you do, he's just the sweetest little cuddlebug you've ever met with just the perfect amount of sass mixed in," he waved off that comment--he was getting off topic. "He's been through a lot. Parts of it I know, parts of it I'm still finding out. And it makes him act out and hold grudges. But you've also caught him at a weird time because he's just started therapy a few weeks ago, so he's learning how to use different coping things, just not in the... 'most ideal' order. Like what just happened. A month ago, he would've never spoken so clearly about what was upsetting him. Before, he'd either just shut down or purposely try to rile you up. So it looks and feels harsh to you, but it's actually a good thing. And I promise that if he didn't want to actually give this relationship the try it deserves, he wouldn't've addressed what was making him angry so eloquently. I've only ever seen him do that with me as of now, so keep that in mind. You're not nearly as far in the shit as you think you are." 

He leaned back as he continued, "Secondly, Franc keeps grudges. For what feels like forever. And when he reverts back, he brings them up. You saw it with the handcuff thing that got you into your mess. It's how he copes. Is it the most ideal thing in the world? Of course not, but everyone has flaws. The best thing you can do is be aware that he does that and if/when it happens, instead of getting upset, just remind him that you've already apologized and that what he's doing isn't fair. Eventually it'll work. And lastly, the best thing you can do for Franc is to just be there as much as possible and constantly remind him that you're there for him.Acknowledging that you wanna improve and learn from your mistakes is nice, but that's more my Love Language than it is Franc's. Franc wants attention, Franc wants affection, and Franc wants to know that people aren't going to leave him. He's... kinda like a kid that way--" he shrugged. He felt bad using the comparison, but with as drunk as he was, he couldn't formulate a better one--"In fact, sometimes I swear he brings things up and picks fights like that because they're subconscious tests he does to make sure we're not gonna decide he's too much and leave him one day. ...Or maybe not. I'm about 3/4ths through a bottle of wine at this point, so who fucking knows." 

He sighed, then stared down at the cup in his hand for a second. He probably shouldn't drink the rest of that, right? He shrugged, gulped it down, then continued: "My main point is this: shower him with love and affection whenever you can. Start with verbal until he's ready for something deeper, then know that the first time you cuddle him, he's never gonna want you to let him go. Do that, work through the hiccups and the tests as calmly as you can, and you'll be surprised at how much love he gives you back once he's ready to. He's my little muscle lovebug. I wouldn't change one thing about him."

Topher nodded along as he listened to what Benji said and did his best to save those mental notes about Franco for later. After all, this was a learning experience, like he'd said. The former Serpent was all about learning new things, absorbing information and always trying to get it from all sides of the story when the moment called for it. But at the same time, his fucked up self esteem just had to crawl out from the back of his mind and twist everything around. 

That Franco and Benji were better off without him among many other similar, colorful remarks. Instead, he just took another deep breath then pulled his hood back up again as he responded, "Thank you for the info. I'll be sure to keep it in mind for the future. Don't know if I've said this before, but if I have then fuck it, I'm going to repeat myself. You are one of the sweetest people I know, Benji Karofsky, and I hope you never lose that quality because it's something that I will always love about you."

"I love you too," Benji whispered, leaning in and cupping Topher's cheek, pulling him into a kiss.

Topher returned the kiss and for a just a few moments, allowed his mind to drift to much better things.

After a few moments, Benji pulled back, looking lovingly into Topher's eyes. "I can't believe I actually get the best of both worlds. I've got to be one of the luckiest guys alive," he whispered, giving Topher another soft kiss.

"I do declare that we both some of the luckiest guys alive," Topher answered before he gave a soft kiss of his own. "Don't know what I'd do without you and all that related, sappier than maple syrup business."

Benji playfully rolled his eyes. "You're so cheesy. But I love it." He kept his hand cupped around Topher's cheek for a second or two longer, then let his hand finally fall, laying back down on the sofa. "I think this relationship is gonna be great once it really starts going. I can just feel it."

Topher plopped back in his chair and gave a light smile of gratitude. "Love you too and I couldn't agree more. I do have a touch more hope for the near future than I did at the start of the night, I'll be the first to admit that. Fingers crossed that once things are on the fast track to getting better, great things will start happening."

Franco had sat on the steps outside, smoked 3 ciggerettes to calm himself. His hands were a little shaky but he knew it was his bodies way of coping with things. He didn't know how to be a little adult about this? How do you watch someone you love, love someone else. 

 He re entered the apartment and gulped, "Look. I ain't saying that I'm gunna jump into this and throw myself into a heap of upset and hurt, cause that's just not me. I want to make this work. I can't change who or what I am or what happened to me in the past and I can't help how I cope with that shit either". He turned to Topher and walked towards him, "You gotta understand, you saw me after what happened. You came to the hospital when I was laying there with broken bones and didn't look a thing like I do today. You watched me recover and then watched me fall to pieces, so you gotta give me time yeah? My life seem to give up" he said with a pause, addressing both men in the room, "First I'm kidnapped and left for dead, then I'm saving Dares life when I was still injured, then I'm a junkie who has to go through withdrawal and now this... it's a lot to take in a few months. So give me time yeah". 

 But it didn't matter, his speech didn't stop his body reacting and within seconds, he was at Tophers side, smashing there lips together.

Topher had started to formulate a response after a new round of attention-confirming nodding, but the kiss from Franco totally caught him off guard. It was fine though, more than fine because he'd honestly run out of things to say without repeating himself. Plus, this was part of the whole poly thing that they were trying out. Twice the amount of kisses, twice the amount of just about everything. Although the latter part was just a theory that remained to be confirmed or denied. Everything aside though, he returned the kiss.

"Wooo!" Benji shouted, giving the boys a round of applause. Obviously his alcohol consumption had made his reaction more comedic than normal, but this didn't change the fact that this happening was exciting for me. At the end of the day, he wanted the three of them to be together and happy; this was a great start, albeit a little out of nowhere.

Franco pulled away from the kiss and nodded, feeling pretty damn proud he'd tried. He stepped backwards and took a deep breath, "I told you I would try" he said to Benji, "And I'm trying to be a man of my word babe".

"And like I said, I'm more than willing to do my part as well. After all, team work makes the dream work," Topher chimed in. He held a hand out to Franco then the other was offered to Benji as he added, "I've got both of your backs, no matter what."

"Alright. You guys are having too much fun without me. I'm coming in," Benji teased, taking Topher's hand and pulling himself into the middle of Topher and Franco, wrapping his arms around both of them and pulling them into a close circle. He gave them each a dramatic kiss on the cheek, smiling brightly.

Franco took Tophers hand, and then turned to kiss Benji as he joined them, "It's the closet thing your gunna get right now to working on it" he said, "You might wanna warn him about me though babe".

"Don't worry," Topher started then trailed off in order to return Benji's kiss. "And you both should know that no warnings will stop me and whatever lessons there are to be learned, I'll take them into account."

"It's gonna be a bumpy ride, but we'll work through it." Benji said with a smile, still holding them both close. "I love you, Franc. I love you, Toph."

Franco stiffened slightly when Benji said he loved Topher but he took a breath and loosened his shoulders, "I love you too Benji and I like you Toph" he said, trying to show his changes, "Excuse me boys, I just need to..." But he slid out of the hold and started walking to the bedroom.

"Love you too Ben and like you too Franco," Topher answered then watched as the latter slipped out. He cast a slightly confused glance at Benji before he whispered in the lowest tone possible, "I know you probably just covered this, but do we follow or what?"

Benji looked at Topher for a second, then at the doorway Franco had just left through, then back to Topher. "I'm... gonna be honest," he answered, equally as quiet, "he definitely wants someone to go after him. And I'm, like... spacing out-levels of drunk. So, want your first real test?" he offered.

"In that case, off I go," Topher replied then leaned over to press a kiss to Benji's forehead. He pushed himself out of his chair one more time and headed off after Franco. "Yo, Franco, wait up."

Franco had climbed onto the bed when Topher caught up to him, "Sorry man but he said I love you and that is just, a little too far" be breathed out. His hands were shaking and he knew drinking and his past was the cause, "I wanna love you Toph but I just can't".

"It's alright," Topher responded as he took a few more steps into the room and sat down on the bed. "I know that I sure as hell haven't made it easy to love me recently, but you've got nothing to worry about in that department. Whatever happens, I will respect your decision and I mean it."

Franco sighed as Topher sat on the bed, "Toph, you know being with me is a rough ride. I'm not easy to handle, I act out and I can be horrible when I'm not getting what I need. Drugs are in my past, but I have urges and desires and if I'm caught wrong, I'll do whatever I can to get out to get them... Can you even handle that".

"You underestimate how much I'm willing to walk though what might be basically hell for the people who matter most to me or those affiliated with said people," Topher fired back, although his tone lacked any evidence of a real desire to start an argument. "I've got your back just like Benji's got your back, simple as that. Through the good, the bad, and in between." He held an arm out in an unspoken invitation for a side hug.

Franco shook his head, "You don't get it do you" he breathed out, "I'm not a good person. Benji deserves so much better and now he's got it, what hope do I fucking have" he spat. He knew he was being harsh but he couldn't handle this, "I might as well give up"

"Franco, dude, please try to slow your roll. You and Benji have been together longer, okay? You have more romantic history with him and you two are fucking engaged. Logic dictates that if it came down to it, you have a better chance than I do," Topher stated in his usual even tone. "You're a far better man than I am in a variety of other ways. I'm not walking away and I'm not backing down from this stance."

Franco raised an eyebrow, "Says the man I actively encouraged him to keep away from by convincing him you were straight when I knew different. He was majorly in love with you and I fooled him into believing you were off limits".

"And I'm willing to move past that. Hell, I've already moved past that," Topher started as he changed tactics and held a hand out to Franco instead. "I'm not asking you to love me right off the bat, okay? I understand that I've made more than my fair share of dick moves recently and it might take some time to move past it. All I want is to work on building trust with you again, building a friendship. Your lead is the one I will follow, just like Benji's. I will listen to you guys and won't walk away just because things hit a bump in the road. I've already said I've got your backs, so please give me a chance to follow through on it." "You won't regret it," he simply added a few beats later.

Franco moved forward and took Tophers hand, "OK so you gotta not say you love him in front of me right now, I can't handle it and it's like I'm watching him fall out of love with me". He took a breath and sighed, "Toph, one day I'll love you but there is so much you don't know about me".

Those few words felt like someone tossed a few darts into his heart in rapid fire style, yet Topher gave a light nod of agreement. "Alright and it's okay. I'm willing to wait, willing to learn, willing to do all that. However long it takes," he answered. With that, he gave Franco's hand a light squeeze along with a small smile.

Franco nodded, "You can say it when I'm not there, cause I know you love him but it's just super hard for me to hear it" he breathed out. He bit his lip and nodded, "Look dude, go back and have fun yeah, I'm just gunna chill for a minute".

"Yeah, gotcha," Topher responded as he stood up. "I mean, if you'd prefer me heading back then that's cool. But before I go, are we cool? Like, we're on the path to making things better between us and all that slash you won't be upset if I go back to the living room?"

Franco nodded, "Dude we are fine I just want five minutes to chill out before I come back. Why don't you go give him a kiss or something? Whatever it is you guys do".

"Alright, I'll go do that or something similar. Think I'll just chill and watch a bit more of B99," he remarked then gave a light yawn. "Then after that, it is off to bed for me."

Franco nodded, and waited for Topher to leave before jumping up and darted over to his chest of drawers, rummaging for his supply and clutching it in his hand. He didn't need to use it, just needed to feel it was there.

As luck would have it, Topher had just reentered the living room when he realized that he'd carried his Pepsi back into the bedroom. So he made his way back, only to stop right in his tracks when he spotted Franco. "I'm kinda frozen to the floor here, can you hand me my Pepsi please?"

Franco's eyes widened and he shook his head, "No...It's.... Shit Toph, it's not what you think it is" he said, quickly hiding it in his jacket. This was not going to go well for him, "Toph, please do not... Just... Fuck, pretend this didn't happen".

"Not what I think it is, huh?" Topher inquired once he finally found his voice again. He leaned against the doorframe as he crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow at Franco. "Look, I imagine that we're all tired here so I'll just drop it and grab my Pepsi then walk out like everything is normal. But I do want to talk to you about this as soon as possible, okay?"

Franco took a deep breath and nodded, walking over to the bed and grabbing the drink, handing it to Topher and leaning in a little close to him, "You gotta not fuck this up for me Toph, I can't handle this right now" he breathed out, fear coursing through his body, "Please Toph" he begged.

"First, thank you," Topher stated as he accepted the Pepsi then listened and his features softened just a hint. "Second, please don't make me regret giving you the benefit of the doubt. Ben's got enough on his plate right now and I want to make things work with you, that's why I'm not screeching like a banshee. But I want to talk to you about this later and I want to help you get past this whole using drugs thing." He started to leave, but then decided against it. "On second thought, do you mind if I stay here?"

Franco took a breath, "I'm not using drugs, I just have them" he explained quickly, "And I'm not stupid, I know you want to stay here so you can go through my stuff. All I have is what's on me right now" he breathed out, "Nothing more, nothing less".

"I'm not going to go through your stuff," Topher promised as he held up the hand that held his Pepsi bottle. "Got no free hands for that and even if I did have one, I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt, remember? Besides, I hate it whenever people go through my stuff and that risk is what makes me jumpy when someone asks to borrow my phone or laptop. Long story short, I get it."

Franco raised an eyebrow, "Then what the hell do you wanna stay in mine and Benji's room for?" he asked, confusion on his face. He shrugged his shoulders, "Fine, you know, do whatever you want. Not like I got anything to hide in here any more" he said simply, turning on his heel and leaving the room.

"Mostly to keep an eye -," he trailed off when he noticed that Franco had walked out. Topher gave a sigh as he followed him out then headed for the living room. "And there goes progress," he remarked under his breath as he plopped back into his favorite chair and proceeded to tap his fingers against the armrest in order to expel some nervous energy.

By the time Topher had made his way back into the room, Benji, in all his drunken glory, had managed to fall asleep. However, his best friend plopping down next to him managed to shake him awake. "Huh?" he questioned groggily, slowly sitting up as he started to rub his eyes. "Toph? Where... where's Franc?" He yawned. "Did you guys make up?"

"Yeah, we made up and we're hopefully on the fast track to making things better. But I'm pretty sure I just set progress back either a bit or to square one," Topher answered. "Franco? You still in the house?" Then as he carded a hand through his hair, he addressed Benji once again, "I promise you that I'm trying to go with what you told and learn as I go. I'm just a chronic idiot when it comes to stuff that isn't book smarts."

Franco walked back into the lounge and smiled a fake ass smile, sitting in his previous seat and looking at the floor. He did not trust Topher right now and gulped, "Yeah just needed a moment. Thought I could handle it.... couldn't" he said playing with his hand.

"But hey, now I know what to do in order to ensure smooth sailing," Topher replied with a soft smile. He had no intention of making things worse and planned on keeping his mouth shut. But after a good night's rest, there were more problems to be tackled, which was what he definitely wanted to do as soon as possible.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Toph. I'm sure things are fine," Benji replied sleepily, curling back into a ball on the sofa. He stayed silent for a moment, then finally processed what Franco said. "...couldn't handle what?"

Franco narrowed his eyes at Topher and shook his head, "Just you two babe. I kissed him so I'm trying but I couldn't handle seeing it. You know me, a big old pathetic let down" and he stared directly at Topher as he said those last words.

Topher had been the middle of yanking his hood up once again because there was no way he was moving from this chair, even if his bed was much more comfy. But Franco's words caught his attention and the hood fell right back down. "Franco, that couldn't be further from the truth. Neither of you are a let down and even if it takes me a thousand encouraging words to convince you of that, I've got all the time to say them," he responded in a meaningful tone.

"Franc, if you don't want to do this, you can say no. I don't know how many times I can stress that, Baby." Benji sighed. "Maybe I integrated things a little too fast. We'll be a little more private about the affection for a while. But the same's gonna go for you and me, y'know. It's only fair," he explained, hoping that would be a good compromise. As he re-closed his eyes, he couldn't help but smile lightly at Topher, happy he was trying to kill Franc with kindness like he suggested.

"Whatever you guys think will work best," Topher remarked before he yawned and stretched in the chair a little as he did so. "Sorry guys, but I'm going to call it a night. But I believe tonight was an alright first step and things can only get better from here as long as we keep hashing things out, making progress, all that." Another yawn escaped then he murmured, "Night Benji, night Franco. Stay cool, but not cold."

Franco scoffed at Topher and stood up, "I think I'm gunna head outside for a bit and have a smoke" he said, almost testing the other man, "I'll see you in the morning... Where are you staying tonight Benj?"

"Night, Topher. Good job tonight. Hit the showers," Benji teased, starting to sit up when Franco spoke again. "Uh. No you're not. You just had a smoke. Come on, we're going to bed too." At Franco's question, Benji couldn't help but make a face in reaction. "...I'm staying in my bed. Just like every night. So c'mon."

Franco sighed and shook his head, "I wanna smoke babe" he said, clenching his jaw a little. He saw the look on Ben's face and nodded, "OK, you'll stay with me tonight... But soon you won't? How am I meant to handle that? I'm trying Ben, I even kissed him but it's just... It doesn't matter"

"Franc, don't you get it? I know you need me to fall asleep. I'm not sleeping anywhere but my bed with you." Benji rolled his eyes, then sighed. "Maybe we should just call this off, huh? You're not handling it well and it feels like it's putting a strain on us. There's no point in doing a relationship this complicated if it's not healthy, Baby."

Franco nodded, "I don't need you... I just wouldn't sleep" he tried to defend himself. He rushed over to Benji and shook his head, "No baby, I don't want to call this off, I'm just scared and worried and I don't know how else to deal with his other then acting out babe"

"Not being able to sleep is exactly why you need--" Benji started, cutting himself off in surprise when Franco rushed towards him. "What is there to be scared and worried about? Our relationship hasn't changed. We've talked about this over and over." He sighed, "Franc, If we're gonna keep this arrangement, it needs to be healthy--which means we need to be able to talk things through openly and rationally. You don't get to act out every time you get negative feelings. It's not fair to Toph. And it's not fair to me either, although it's my fault for humoring it as much as I have been."

Franco shrugged his shoulders, "It's just in my head babe that I might lose you or something and it freaks me out cause I'm just getting shit back on track". Franco sighed, "I know babe but I'm really trying. People who are in recovery shouldn't even have relationships and here I am trying to juggle two of them... It's hard and I need space to breathe every once in a while"

Benji couldn't help but rub his temples in annoyance. He loved Franco, but dealing with this over and over was getting tiring. "I don't know how else to say this: this poly relationship is not something that would make you lose me. For the millionth time." 

 He turned to look at Franco, "Yes, it's hard. I understand. But I give you space to breathe every time you need it, multiple times a day. Do you think this is easy for Topher either? Of course not. But he doesn't have a temper tantrum every time you and I interact with each other." He sighed. He really didn't want to open up this can of worms, but playing nice was showing to be ineffective. He tried to choose his words carefully as he continued, "I understand that there will be bumps, but there's a difference between a road having bumps and acting like the road's made of gravel."

Franco shook his head at the words, "I don't think it's easy for him but he's used to it. He wasn't in this relationship the whole time we have been" he breathed out. He took a deep breath and shrugged his shoulders, "I'm trying. I kissed him. I spoke with him. I'm sorry that my brain struggles to comprehend everything that is going on".

Benji pinched the bridge of his nose, struggling to keep his annoyance from being too obvious. "Let's just... go to bed, okay? We've done enough tonight."

Franco sighed, "You go and I'll meet you in there" he spoke out, "I just really need a cigarette right now"

Benji threw his hands up in defeat and stood up. "...Fine," he murmured, turning and starting to head for his bedroom.

Franco sighed and went down to smoke. He needed to hide his drugs again and somewhere different. He finished up and went back upstairs, nudging Topher, "Hey, you gunna come to bed" he asked, knowing he needed to play nice, "You can come with us but I get the middle" he offered.

One of Topher's eyes opened then both when he heard Franco and felt the nudge. His sleep addled mind didn't want him to move anymore from his favorite chair, but he also knew that he'd regret it if he didn't. Plus he wanted to help make this work, didn't he? So Topher gave an understanding sort of nod as he pushed himself out of the chair and headed off for the bedroom.

By this time, Benji was facing his dresser, changing into a pair of pajamas. "Hey, Baby." he said to the sound of footsteps, not bothering to turn around. In the back of his mind, he knew he needed to stop babying Franco at some point, but he also knew that that day wasn't going to be today. "Cuddle time?"

Franco had walked through to the bedroom with Topher and pushed him in the direction of Benji, "Cuddle him" he'd breathed as he'd made his way to the bed, laying down in the middle, shurugging of his clothes and dropping them on the floor until he was only in his boxer shorts

Topher lightly stumbled, but managed to recover his footing then started to rest his head on Benji's shoulder before he second guessed himself and just leaned against the dresser. "Fair warning to you both, I talk in my sleep," he remarked in between yawns. "Feel free to roast me for what I say or don't. Whatever."

"Toph?" Benji questioned, turning around when the head on his shoulder felt different than what he was expecting. "You're sleeping with us? Awe, this is perfect," he said happily, wrapping one arm around Topher and starting to drag him towards the bed. "Franco in the middle," he stated, clamoring onto the bed and opening his arms for both Topher and Franco to climb into.

Franco was already in the middle of the bed, "Yeah I thought he might not wanna sleep on his own tonight so invited him in with us" he said and then gave a small laugh, "Of course I'm in the middle and, if this works out, then I'm always in the middle".

Topher's tired mind almost made him jump when Benji started to lead him toward the bed and he almost started to voice the obnoxious amount of potential concerns, yet his mouth remained closed. He shuffled over to the empty side then climbed into it. "This might sound weird, but hell with it. Thank you both."

Benji smiled softly, moving the boys so Franco was cuddled into him and his arm was wrapped around Topher’s back. “I’m sleeping well tonight,” he whispered, squeezing them both close.

Franco felt a little out of place but kept himself wrapped into Benji, "Clean slate" was all he breathed.

Andrea was nervous; of all the things that she'd ever been nervous about she had never been nervous to talk to Evan before. It was a new and really uncomfortable feeling that she really didn't like. But both Spike and Ezra had told her she needed to talk to him and try to resolve things, and so here she was standing outside his apartment with a box of cupcakes in hand and nervous energy in her stomach. Honestly she didn't even know what to say to fix things; Evan had been completely pissed at her since before the whole coke thing and Andrea had no idea why. Yeah, if the situations were reversed she might've reacted the same way at first, but she never would've cut Evan out of her life over something like that. She just missed him so much and she wanted things to go back to normal, with bubble baths when things got too stressful and Ezra and Evan to sprawl on the couch with during movie nights. She missed Evan, and she missed all three of them together, but this was a sever she'd made when she started dating Spike, and she felt like she should be the one to try to fix it. She took a deep breath, pushing her hair back behind her ear and fidgeting uncomfortably as she waited for him to answer - if he even did.

Evan: was sprawled on his couch where he passed the night before after barely making it through his door at three in the morning. He had managed to take a quick shower and change out of yesterday's clothes earlier in the day but had no motivation to do anything else besides eat a muffin and flip through tv channels. He should probably actually do something considering sitting for hours surrounded by a mess wasn't productive. The coffee table was cluttered with empty bottles of wine, a mirror with small traces of coke that could be spotted if you looked close enough, an ash tray and his pipe. The floors where a mess as well, an empty pizza box when he had a couple of the many friends he has made outside of Austens, beer cans and someone's shirt that Evan doesn't know quite why it's on the floor behind the couch, whether it was from a game of strip poker OR he had someone over and the memory's blurry. So he should clean or take that one girl's advice and hire a bloody maid. But he's not, instead he's lighting up another cigarette, lounging in the mess his apartment has become until he heard someone at the door. With furrowed eyebrows he stood up, wondering who it was for it wasn't Chloe, no he spoke to her earlier. He didn't bother checking and instead opened the door, cigarette hanging from his lips eyes not quite meeting the person at his door and he blinked once, eyes lowering and it's Andrea. The blonde hair threw him off a bit --​Jesus,when did that happen?​ "Uh, hi." he stated, dryly, taking the stick from his mouth to blow out the smoke to his left to not get it in her face.

Andrea blinked owlishly when Evan opened the door - he seemed just as surprised to see her which meant that he probably didn't check to see who was at the door. That was fine, at least he had opened it and she was here. She coughed slightly, because the smell of the smoke still assaulted her lungs despite the fact that he'd blown it away from her face. "Hi." she stepped passed him into the flat, not paying much mind at first. "Look I just, um-... I made you cupcakes. Butterbeer, because I know you like those. Uh-." she turned to go set them on the coffee table, but it was completely cluttered and it was only then that she noticed the complete ​mess​ Evan's apartment was. "Um." should she comment? She felt the distinct urge to clean. Was that a crop top on the floor? "I just wanted to apologize to you." she forced herself to look away from the mess and at his face. He looked like shit.

Evan: moved aside, out of habit when she pushed past him into his flat. He stood there, looking outside into the street before turning around and following after her, not knowing whether he should close the door or not. In the end he did and walked into the living room where the girl now stood rubbing the back of his neck. In all honesty though, he doesn't know whether he's actually here or he's just imagining the whole thing because he wasn't expecting her at all, or ever really. He glanced down at the cupcakes in her hand and whereas once he would have pried them off her fingers the moment she got here it just reminded him of the lack of appetite he had. He still mumbled out a, "Thanks." but made no move to grab them and set them aside. He still can't wrap his head around her hair, it's just...so unlike her but he made no comment whatsoever, it was none of his business. "What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, why is she coming to apologize? He was incredibly confused right now and he should have checked who was at the door, he wouldn't have opened it (he still would've).

Andrea looked down at the ground, shifting around in her flip-flops before she finally decided to slip out of them. She exchanged the cupcakes for a couple of the empty bottles of wine so she could set them down. "I came to apologize." she said, juggling the bottles around so she could grab the empty box of pizza and set it in the kitchen, which was just as much of a mess. Sure, Evan was a little messy sometimes, but this was a whole other extreme. Was he okay? "I um-. I'm sorry for throwing your coke out the window." that was the most stupid sentence she had ever heard in her entire life. "Not because I think it's okay for you to be doing it or anything, but because I upset you. Don't misunderstand me or anything." she said as she stepped back into the living room. "And I'm sorry for-..." what did she even do? Date Spike? Again, it was stupid. "For dating Spike. I don't know why it upset you so much, but I'm sorry it did and-. I don't know if you even give a fuck about it at all, you probably don't." it didn't seem like he gave a fuck about anything, given the state of his flat. "But it's over and you were right. So you don't have to worry about it anymore, I guess." this was so stupid; why was she apologizing for stupid things like that?

Evan: heard her the first time, he just doesn't understand why she would even bother to apologize, and for what? Evan doesn't even want to discuss whatever she wants to discuss because there's a chance he isn't going to like this. He still followed her to the kitchen and oh, he didn't realize until now what a mess it was but frankly, he didn't care. He sighed, taking a drag from his cigarette and he really doesn't want to talk about the coke incident, he doesn't want to think of that day or week in general. So he didn't say anything in response and instead leaned against the doorway entry and blew out the smoke. He wrinkled his nose at the mention of Spike and his lip curled back in distaste. He doesn't care about that anymore, Andrea can go get fucked over as much as she likes and Evan doesn't want to hear about it anymore. He doesn't even know why it bothers him so much, there are definitely worse twats out there than ​Spike​, he's already had a thought about it but he hasn't got a clue. He raised his eyebrows when he heard they were over which alright, if he thinks about it that didn't last long and it sparked a bit of interest in him, he wants to know what happened but he refuses to ask and hearing about it will probably give him a migraine."Is that all?" he finally sighed and ran a hand through his hair, he wants to crawl back into the couch and sleep but he reckons that won't happen anytime soon.

Andrea just kind of stared at him, because ​okay​ she expected more of a reaction than that. There was not even a twinge of sympathy in his face or any sign of acceptance of her apology at all and this was definitely not the Evan she'd gotten to know while here. This was not her best friend. "I-..." she swallowed thickly, continuing to clean in hopes that it would keep herself from crying. She grabbed the mirror, swiping the leftover coke from it before turning to look at him again. She had to say this to his face. She can't skimp out on him. "I just-... I don't know what I did to make you say that to me. The thing about Hayden. I'm sorry I irritated you so much that you said it but I don't think I deserved it." she squeezed the handle of the mirror tight, blinking back tears. "And-. I'm really worried about you because your flat looks like shit and so do you and you obviously haven't stopped doing coke and-. I miss you." her voice was doing that annoying squeaky crying thing that she hated. It's why she always used to hide in the bathroom to cry when she was younger - so no one would ask her questions and she wouldn't have to answer in that stupid voice. "I miss you so much. All the time. And you don't seem to give a shit about me at all anymore but I love you and I don't want anything to happen to you but I don't know how to help you." now that she thinks about it she could google it, but it was too late for that. She was here now having this conversation with him and it's too late. "Please just-. Tell me how to help you because I don't know." she begged, finally looking away from him to look down and wipe her eyes. One of these days she ​won't spend it crying​ but today didn't seem to be one of those days.

Evan: closed his eyes briefly. In the amount of time she's been here he's at least only said about ten words to her and maybe he should be more responsive but he can't. And now she's going to cry and Evan doesn't have the energy for this. He's exhausted, his eyes feel heavy and his bones weak. He stepped out of line when he mentioned Hayden, he knows he did and he doesn't know why his name spilled out of his mouth that day but he had been so irritated and annoyed that it just happened. The whole idea of her being with Spike voluntarily just irked him to the core because why would someone choose that? Why would someone who was constantly hurt by the person they’re in a relationship with or were want that? Is it because they like them too much they want to work things out? Perhaps they love them. Perhaps they think they can change them. But Evan calls bullshit on that, it's just a big fucking cliche that everyone hates but wants to be a part of. Evan would know, he's a walking example of that story. People don't change. They just get better at hiding it. And it wasn't long before ​he​ messed up again and this time it was Andrea who would get the worst of it. And jesus, the stupid coke, he doesn't want go near that subject, he doesn't need help he's perfectly stable, he's still standing and here healthy as ever, he doesn't need anything. He doesn't want her to cry he doesn't want to see her like that. His cigarette is going out and he smudged it on the table. He's not going lie, he has been thinking about why he's been so nasty to Andrea, why he said what he said but he has no idea as to why. He let her finish everything she had to say before he finally looked up at her and then averted his gaze, a humorless chuckle emitting from his mouth. "You know, everything would have been much simpler and make more sense if I was in love with you." that had been a constant idea in his head, that maybe he was so upset because Evan loves her and he does but, "But I don't, not in those terms at least." And he shrugged, sighing lightly and he doesn’t want to fight, he doesn't want to see her cry again, his voice was at a normal tone, eyes showed no expression, "I don't have an excuse as to why I said that and if you want an apology then fine, I'm sorry." Maybe he should put more emotion into it, sound genuine but he can't, it's like everything he feels is being locked up in a box thrown into a vast and empty place inside his mind. "You can't help me, Andrea, I don't need it nor do I want it.”

Andrea looked up at him, feeling almost... hurt? That he wasn't in love with her. She didn't even know if she wanted him to be, but it really would've been much more simple if he did, like he'd said. But now she really wishes he hadn't brought it up because now she couldn't stop thinking about it and ​why did she break up with one asshole for another​? Did she love Evan like that? She can hardly think about anything else he's saying - she could hear it but it was flying right over her head and what she was gathering was that he said it for no reason and he was acting like this for nothing. Great. She took a deep breath. "I came here because I wanted my best friend back. But you aren't him. Not even a little. I don't want your fucking apology if you're not going to be sincere about it." she snapped, throwing the mirror to the floor and she has an awful habit of making a mess of his flat, doesn't she? What's seven more years bad luck? "What the fuck is the matter with you? Being addicted to coke isn't some fucking ​hipster trend​ Evan. You can't just stop and decide you're bored of it. You need some fucking help."

Evan: sighed once again, she was making this too difficult and complicated. He doesn't want her to point out what's wrong with what he's doing, he wants her to leave him alone. He wants to be alone until even he can't stand it and leaves like every other night. He didn't even flinch when she dropped the mirror, it just adds to the mess that’s already on the floor. He doesn't want to raise his voice and he's just trying to tune her out. "Can you just drop it? I'll get help if I fucking need it alright?" he replied, voice was cool and collected, showing no sign of anger or frustration that matched the kind seeping out of Andrea. In fact, he almost feels nothing because if he focuses hard enough she really isn't here and she'll be gone and Evan will forget all about it and go to sleep, probably not before having a line of course. It's become part of his routine and the high doesn’t last long but enough to make him sleep after a while. "Can you just leave?" he asked, emotionless and with a shrug, he's done listening and if she doesn't leave, he will.