#todd morrison

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚The horror movie wasn’t even that good. The plot was all over the place, the killer had a laughably bad mask, and the jump scares were so predictable that Larry had started mocking them out loud before they happened.

the three of you had ended up crammed into Sal’s bed his tiny, creaky bed pressed shoulder to shoulder under a single threadbare blanket while the glow of the TV flickered dimly across the room. Sal was in the middle, naturally. It started innocently enough. You’d sprawled out across the edge of the mattress first, claiming the wall side because you said it made you feel safe during horror movies. Larry flopped down next to you with zero grace, mumbling about how his ass was falling asleep from sitting on the floor. Sal, caught between the two of you, had hesitated only slightly before sitting, then laying back, sandwiched between you and his best friend.

Now, here you were. Trapped between the cool wall and the even cooler boy you had far too many complicated thoughts about.

You could feel the warmth of Sal’s arm brushing against yours every time he shifted. He was stiff at first, like he was hyper aware of the space or lack of it but over time, he’d relaxed into it, perhaps forgetting he was in between two people with vastly different personal space boundaries. Larry’s knee kept nudging Sal’s leg as he shifted around, while Sal’s hand occasionally bumped yours when he reached to adjust the volume or grab the popcorn bowl.

You weren’t even paying attention to the movie anymore. Your eyes were fixed on the screen, but your brain was a blur focused on how close Sal’s shoulder was to yours.

Now over the past few months, you've gotten very close to the gang. Especially Sal having been the first person to meet out of everyone. Anytime you weren’t with the cheer squad, you can bet your money that you'd be with sal any left over time you have. Though with him so close it made you reflect when you started to have that fuzzy feeling.

“I swear this thing is rigged,” Sal declared, slumping onto the carpet with a thud. “There’s no way you beat me again”

Todd, deadpan, didn’t even glance up from his Game Boy. “You lost. Again. face it sal, when it comes to tech im just better.”

It should’ve been just another silly moment like the dozens you’d already shared. You’d known Sal for over a year now, spent hours beside him investigating things you probably shouldn’t, watching horror movies until sleep claimed one of you first, and wandering the neighborhood talking about everything and nothing.

“I dunno, Todd,” Ash chimed in, laying across the couch upside down with her hair dangling off the edge. “Kinda feels like demonic assistance.”

Sal pointed a dramatic finger at her. “Thank you. Finally, someone with eyes.”

You snorted from your spot on the beanbag chair. “You sure it’s not just your lack of hand eye coordination? Or the fact that you panic every time the blocks get fast?”

Sal propped himself up on one elbow, mask tilted just enough to show the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. “I’ll have you know, I am a master of panic. I’ve built my whole life around it.”

“Clearly,” you teased. “You died like three times in under a minute.”

“sick of you to call me out like this in front of my peers,” he huffed. “I’m a sensitive soul.”

Ash cackled. “You’re about as sensitive as a brick.”

Sal threw a pillow at her. “I thought you were on my side you freak”

Ash gasped. “Y/n has my heart, try harder bitch”

You raised your hands, grinning. “Don’t blame me for your failures”

Sal turned toward you, sitting cross legged now. “So what were you both talking about”

“Kyle!” Ash laughed. “Yes, and apparently he wrote Jessica a love poem that he accidentally printed on the back of the science quiz handouts.”

Todd finally looked up, blinking. “That was real? I thought that was a formatting error.”

Sal looked like he was about to pass out from joy. “That’s the most tragic thing I’ve ever heard.”

You burst into laughter again, curling into the beanbag as your sides started to ache. You barely noticed the way your eyes drifted to Sal how relaxed he looked. His legs sprawled out, one hand resting lazily over his knee, the other tossing a Cheez It at Ash’s face. His hair was slightly messier than usual, and his voice was rough from all the laughing. He looked so alive, just glowing in his own sarcastic, effortless way. You’d spent so many afternoons like this at his side during investigations, trading secrets, hanging out until your eyes drooped shut.

Well. Your heart did something. But the second you realized your stare might last too long, Ash turned to you and squinted. “Y/N, you’ve been weirdly quiet. What’s that face about?”

You instantly waved her off, grabbing a nearby pillow and throwing it at her. “Please. im just having flash backs to class, Ms. Peterson’s insane obsession with sweater vests.” change the direction of this questioning worked effortlessly.

Ash laughed. “No, seriously, what is up with that? She wore a glittery one last Friday. Like bedazzled with rhinestones.”

Todd chimed in, glancing up. “Technically, those weren’t rhinestones. They were imitation crystal beads.”

Ash blinked at him. “How do you even know that?”

“I read the morning announcements. There was a fundraiser.”

Sal snorted. “You guys are just jealous you can’t rock a crystal bedazzled vest like Peterson.”

You leaned forward with a grin. “Oh, yeah? Prove it. Come to school tomorrow with a glittery vest, Fisher.”

He turned to you with mock sincerity. “Y/N, if I had one, I would burn it in an instant, dont try me”

You giggled. “Sal, I dare you to wear a bedazzled vest next Friday.”

“Absolutely not,” he said immediately. “I have standards.”

Ash leaned over. “Even if we pay you?”

“Especially if you pay me. I won’t be bribed into that shit.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I am plenty fun. I just don’t want to look like a disco ball during third period.”

You laughed, and it slipped out easier than usual. That warmth was still there in your chest, but you ignored it. Let it settle. You nudged Ash again, changing the subject quickly. “Anyway. Did you hear about what happened during gym today?”

Ash lit up instantly. “Oh my god, yes. Mike tried to do a backflip and ended up hitting Coach in the face!”

“He what?!” Sal exclaimed,

Todd shook his head, lips twitching. “And I missed this?”

“Coach had a whistle in his mouth and choked on it,” you said, trying not to wheeze. “They had to do the Heimlich.”

Ash added, “Mike cried and swore he was just trying to get the attention of a girl in class.’”

Sal was giving a deadpan “I can’t take any of you seriously anymore.”

“That’s fair,” you said with a grin, feeling the moment settle in like a warm blanket. You didn’t mention the way Sal’s voice sounded when he was laughing like that or how he stole glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking. Anyways that was a small moment that made you realize you might’ve had it bad for the guy beside you. Like to preface though, Since the beginning you've always thought he was cute.

Larry, on the other hand, was having the time of his life.

“Dude, did you see that?” Larry said, laughing with his mouth half full of popcorn. “The guy just walked right into the room with the creepy ass doll like he wanted to die.”

Sal gave a small laugh. “You’d do the same thing.”

“Nah, I’d throw hands with the ghost.”

“You can’t punch ghosts, dumbass,” Sal murmured, tone dry.

“Bet.”

You snorted softly, stifling your laugh with the back of your hand. Sal turned his head slightly at the sound, and for a second, your eyes met. His hair was slightly messy from leaning back, the soft blue strands catching the glow of the TV light. You felt your breath catch for a moment before you turned back to the screen. The silence that followed was heavier than it should have been. Sal looked away first. Another jump scare came on some screeching violin noise and a face popping up in the mirror. You jumped a little out of instinct, and your hand brushed against Sal’s again. This time, neither of you pulled away.

Larry didn’t notice. He was too busy making ghost noises and tossing popcorn into the air to catch in his mouth.

“I’m just saying,” he mumbled through another handful, “this killer sucks. If I were in this movie, I’d be the final dude, for sure.”

“Final girl,” you corrected automatically, teasing. “That’s the trope.”

“I’d be the final badass, dont bring gender into this.”

Sal let out a quiet chuckle. You turned your head just enough to glance at him again. He looked relaxed now, nestled between the two of you, his bangs falling over the edge of his mask. The bed dipped slightly beneath your hips, everything too close and far too warm, but you didn’t want to move. You could feel the slow, even rhythm of his breathing. His fingers curled slightly when they brushed yours again accidental, maybe but they didn’t move away. You didn’t either.

Your voice was quiet when you spoke next. “I thinks it’s pointless to pay attention to whatever plot they're trying to do.”

Sal hummed softly. “You’re right.”

Larry, sprawled at the foot of the bed now, his long legs hanging off the edge, yawned. “You guys wanna turn it off?”

You shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. We can let it play out”

The movie droned on in the background. Some character screaming. A door slamming. The warmth of Sal beside you, the ridiculous commentary from Larry, the soft creak of the old bed beneath your bodies.

None of it made sense.

it felt like the kind of night you’d remember for a long time. when Sal’s pinky finally, cautiously, hooked around yours, You didn’t let go.

Looking back af the screen. The movie had reached a new low. The antagonist had suddenly sprouted wings, apparently possessed by the ghost of some ancient demon priest who spoke entirely in Latin. Larry had just finished mocking the last jump scare with an exaggerated scream and a pillow swing before everything finally, mercifully, quieted down again.

SNNOOOORRRT.

The sound cut through the room like a chainsaw through silence. You and Sal both flinched instinctively, heads snapping in unison toward the other side of the bed. There, sprawled diagonally across the mattress like a starfish, was Larry. His mouth hung open just enough to catch flies, and one leg was draped off the side. His chest rose and fell with each obnoxiously loud snore each one somehow louder and more theatrical than the last.

You stared at him for a moment in stunned silence. Then glanced at Sal. Sal was already looking at you. You didn’t even try to hold it in you burst into giggles, muffling the sound against your hand. “Holy crap,” you whispered between snorts, “is he alive? That sounds like a damn chainsaw.”

Sal blinked a few times, then snorted too. “He does that when he sleeps in weird positions. Sometimes I have to check he’s not choking on his own tongue.”

That only made you laugh harder, your shoulder bumping into Sal’s as you leaned against the wall behind you for support. Larry shifted slightly, letting out another guttural snore, then smacked his lips and mumbled something incoherent like, “Nah, man…tuna doesn’t even talk…” before rolling over.

You wiped a tear from your eye, still grinning. “I really like your friends.”

Sal turned to look at you, still smiling faintly. “…Yeah?”

You nodded, the laughter slowly settling into a fond warmth in your chest. “They’re so weird. Like, weird weird. But in the best way. It’s kinda refreshing.”

Sal didn’t reply immediately, but he looked at you with a softness you hadn’t seen all night quiet, thoughtful, a little shy. “They grow on you,” he finally said, voice low. “I wouldnt trade them”

You gave him a lopsided grin. “You’re all a mess, but I love it. It’s… nice. Being here.”

He looked down briefly, then back at you. The glow of the TV flickered over the curve of his mask, casting little shadows across the stitched mouth. “…It’s nice having you here too,” he murmured.

For a beat. Just sat there his pinky still lightly hooked around yours, Larry still snoring like a freight train beside you, and the TV screen casting a soft light across the room full of haunted masks, scattered notebooks, and a lingering warmth that neither ghosts nor horror movies could quite touch. in that quiet moment, the scariest thing wasn’t the movie on screen. It was how much you didn’t want this to end.

The movie finally ended with a whimper literally. Some distant scream echoed through a crumbling church, the screen cut to black, and the credits rolled in awkward silence, accompanied by a weirdly cheerful piano score that absolutely didn’t fit the vibe. Sal reached for the remote, turned the volume down, and let out a soft breath. “That was… something.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, trying not to laugh. “Top tier trash.”

“Totally gonna recommend it to Todd.”

You turned your head slowly toward him “You’re evil.”

He shrugged, feigning innocence. “He made me sit through that documentary on haunted ink last week. This is payback.”

You let out a soft snort and leaned your head back against the wall again. The room had grown quiet, aside from the occasional creak of the floorboards and the SNOOOORRRT from the other side of the bed. Larry had somehow managed to rotate even more in his sleep. His arm now stretched across Sal’s chest like he was guarding him from a night demon, one leg slung over the edge of the mattress, the other pinning your ankle down like it was holding a prize hostage.

You blinked down at the limb. “Uh…”

Sal looked too. You both slowly scanned the human barricade between freedom and the floor.“…We’re stuck,” Sal said plainly.

“Caged,” you whispered dramatically. “By the beast.”

Sal stifled a laugh, trying not to move too much under Larry’s deadweight arm. “I can’t even feel my side anymore.”

You poked Larry’s leg with your toe. “I think his soul left his body like ten minutes ago. He’s in another realm now.”

“He’s in his own world,” Sal said, voice light with amusement. You looked at him and smiled. It was easy to joke with him like this. Easy to sit here in the dark, with your arms lightly pressed together, and the weight of Larry’s unconscious limbs holding you hostage.

“Guess we’re staying here, huh?” you murmured.

“Looks like it.” Neither of you moved. Sal’s arm was warm where it rested close to yours, and you could feel the rise and fall of his chest under Larry’s draped arm. The glow from the TV dimmed a little more as the credits faded to black completely.

You sighed. “Not the worst place to be trapped.”

“…Yeah,” he said quietly.

Then Larry mumbled in his sleep “Tell ‘er she forgot the waffles…”

You both burst out laughing again, trying not to shake the bed too much. The laughter faded slowly, melting into a gentle hush the screen now pitch black, and Larry… well, Larry was definitely somewhere deep in dreamland.

You glanced down at the tangle of limbs surrounding you, then turned your head toward Sal with a dramatic sigh. “Well,” you said in a resigned voice, “it seems we have no choice.”

Sal tilted his head, mask catching a faint gleam from the now dim TV light. “…No choice?”

You gave him a mock serious look, eyes wide. “Fate has spoken. We’ve been claimed by the bed. Escape is impossible.”

His lips twitched into a small smile. “So what you’re saying it’s bedtime now?”

“I mean, what other options do we have?” you gestured at Larry’s arm sprawled over his chest and leg flopped across your own. “Unless you’ve got secret teleportation powers you’ve been hiding from me, I think we’re stuck in here for the long haul.”

Sal chuckled softly, shoulders shaking just a bit beneath the weight of Larry’s dead arm hug. “You’re not wrong.”

You wiggled a little, adjusting yourself beneath the blanket and the wall of limbs. “Okay, if we’re stuck here, I’m gonna get at least some comfort out of this.”

Then, before you could second guess yourself, you shifted closer, turning slightly until your head gently rested against Sal’s chest. your temple pressed near his shoulder, nestled just enough to be cozy without smothering. It gave both of your sides a little more breathing room from the dreaded Larry Trap™, but it also… well. It felt nice.

Sal went still. Not tense, exactly. You could feel the way his breath caught for a second before slowly evening out again. His body was warm beneath you, the gentle rise and fall of his chest oddly soothing against your cheek. The soft cotton of his shirt smelled faintly like laundry detergent and something you could only describe as Sal.

Then, in that low, careful tone he used when he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming “…This okay?”

You nodded a little against him. “Yeah. It’s nice. You’re comfy.”

Sal huffed a quiet laugh barely more than a breath but you felt it, vibrating faintly through his chest. His hand, still resting near yours beneath the blanket, inched just slightly closer. You felt your eyelids grow heavier, lulled by the warmth, the softness, the strange, peaceful intimacy of being squished between a snoring cryptid and someone who made your heart beat a little faster every time he so much as looked your way. “…Night, Sal,” you murmured sleepily.

“Night,” he whispered back.

A few quiet minutes passed. Your body had started to melt into sleep heavy, warm, and full of that fuzzy comfort that only came when you truly felt safe. But something stirred just enough to nudge you back toward wakefulness. You blinked your eyes open slowly. The TV had shut off completely now. The shadows in the room were soft, shifting slightly with the moonlight coming in through the window. You tilted your head just a little, eyes drifting up.

Sal was still awake. He hadn’t moved much barely breathed too deeply but you could feel it in the tension in his chest, the way his hand hadn’t quite relaxed beside yours, and most of all… in the quiet presence of his mask still sitting snug against his face.

You stared at it for a second, unsure why it pulled at your heart the way it did. Not because it was strange or unwelcome it was him, after all. But because he was still holding onto something. Even here. Even now. Not that you minded not really. It was part of him. But… even now? When everything else felt so relaxed?

Your voice came out as a soft whisper, so quiet it barely stirred the air between you. “…Hey, Sal?” He hummed softly in response, his chest rising gently beneath your cheek. “…Are you comfortable sleeping in it?”

There was a pause. A beat. You felt him shift, maybe in surprise. Then, quietly, he murmured, “Yeah. I’m fine with it on.”

You didn’t press. You didn’t ask why or if he was sure. You just gave him a soft smile, voice low and kind as your hand lightly brushed his side. “Okay. Just… wanna make sure you’re comfortable, too.”

The silence returne You didn’t expect him to say anything else. You didn’t even lift your head. Just closed your eyes again and let yourself settle back into the rise and fall of his breathing. Soft movement. You felt his hand slowly rise near his face, and heard it the faint sound of buckles. A click. A slide of straps.

Your heart fluttered. You stayed there, resting against him, He laid it down beside the bed, the soft thud of it muffled by the blanket. His chest exhaled fully in a mildly shaky way beneath you for the first time that night.

His arms moved. Then one wrapped gently around your shoulders, the other folding beneath your arm, pulling you just slightly closer just enough that your side was pressed into his, Instead, you felt his hand slide gently around your shoulder, the other tucking under your back as he pulled you in carefully, cautiously, like you were something fragile and precious. Your head nestled closer beneath his chin, skin against skin now. The warmth of his cheek rested near the crown of your head. His heart beat slow and steady beneath your ear, and the faintest brush of his breath stirred your hair as he held you like it was the first time he’d let himself truly breathe.

“I don’t… usually do this,” he murmured, voice barely more than a thread.

“I know,” you whispered.

your fingers lightly curled into the fabric of his shirt, your eyes fluttering shut again as sleep tugged at you like waves lapping against the shore. “…Thank you,” he whispered, so soft you might’ve imagined it.

You slept.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚Morning crept in slowly through Sal’s bedroom window, pale light casting soft streaks across the floor. The warmth of the sun bled into the room, brushing over clothes on the floor, empty snack bags from the night before, and a muted horror movie DVD case teetering on the edge of the nightstand.

The room was still peaceful. Well… until a certain someone began to stir. Larry groaned as he stretched, hair a complete mess, one leg still draped over part of the bed like a corpse washed ashore. He scratched at his head with a yawn that could wake the dead, blinking slowly as his eyes adjusted to the daylight.

“Ugh… why the fuck does my back hurt so much,” he muttered to himself.

Then he paused, eyes drifting lazily to his left… and stopped cold. Sal was still fast asleep, flat on his back, lips parted slightly as he breathed evenly. And you were right on top of him, curled up against his chest like a cat, arm tucked across his stomach, one leg haphazardly resting over his. Sal’s arms were wrapped loosely around your shoulders, and his mask Gone. Completely gone.

Larry’s eyes widened, and a wide, giddy grin began to tug at his face. “…No. Freaking. Way.”

He grabbed his phone off the nightstand like it was the Holy Grail, and with the stealth of someone absolutely used to sneaking snacks at 2 a.m., he held it up and started snapping photos like a proud parent.

Click. One from the side your cheek smooshed into Sal’s chest.

Click. One a little closer Sal’s fingers curled softly into your hoodie sleeve.

Click click click.

Larry was giggling like a little girl, nearly silently, shaking with laughter as he zoomed in on the most disgustingly adorable sleep cuddle combo he’d ever seen. “Homeboy is getting it while I was in bed, Im kinda grossed out” he whispered to himself.

You stirred first. A sleepy groan left your throat as your eyes fluttered open, still half lidded and dazed. You blinked up in confusion, chin still resting against Sal’s chest. “…Larry?”

Sal, still dozing, gave a small hum, barely lifting his head. Larry froze, phone held in midair like he’d been caught robbing a bank.

Then your eyes focused. Your voice, raspy and heavy with sleep, came out in a groggy warning: “…Are you taking pictures?”

Larry grinned. “Don’t mind me. Just documenting the rare and elusive Wholesome Sal Cuddle Beast in his natural habitat.”

Sal groaned beneath you burying his face into your hair. “Larry…”

You let your head drop back to Sal’s chest with a sigh reaching your arm out. “gimme your phone.”

“No can do,” Larry said, flopping back onto the bed dramatically with a grin so smug it could power a city. “This is the cutest shit I’ve ever seen. You two are like… its too early to compare but you both are so gross right now.”

You groaned and hid your face, too sleepy and too cozy to even fight it. Sal, still half asleep, mumbled, “This fucker.”

Larry stood at the doorway now, still grinning like a maniac as he prepared to head down the hall probably to brag to himself in the kitchen about the goldmine of photos he just captured. With his hand on the doorknob, he turned back and said with a finger gun, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do… which admittedly is very little. So, uh, good luck!”

And with that, he disappeared down the hallway cackling to himself. The door clicked shut behind him, and the room settled into silence once again.

The warmth returned almost instantly quiet, unhurried, as if the space itself wanted to return you both to the peaceful cocoon of earlier. You blinked sleepily and slowly tilted your head up from where it rested on Sal’s chest, face still nestled in the soft fabric of his shirt. Your voice was hoarse from sleep, barely above a whisper, warm with affection and the comfort of a morning that didn’t need rushing.

“…Good morning.”

Sal didn’t respond right away. His eyes were already open watching you and he smiled faint, just a curl of the lips. “Good morning,” he whispered back, voice still low from sleep, a touch dazed. “You’re still here.”

You gave a soft, sleepy laugh. “Mmhmm. Guess I didn’t sleepwalk out.”

But the moment didn’t linger quite as simply as that. Because suddenly it hit him. The air shifted in his chest. His eyes flickered slightly, darting away. His arms, still loosely around you, twitched like he was trying to pull them back without making it obvious. He sucked in a shallow breath. The mask. He wasn’t wearing his mask. His skin scarred and marred, one side melted and uneven, parts of his face twisted in ways no teenager should have to learn to accept was all out. In plain view. For you to see. His heart began to pick up, beating against your chest, almost trembling. He must look disgusting. Horrifying. Why didn’t he think about it? Larry saw fine. Whatever. Larry didn’t care. Hes known him long enough that hes seen him before. But you? You were still here. Still on him. Still close enough to see every detail.

His body stiffened ever so slightly. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t move, either. Just braced for whatever was coming whether it was a flinch, a quiet “I’ll let you get dressed,” or the worst… silence. That dreaded kind of silence.

But it never came. Because when he finally risked looking down at you again… You were just looking at him. Softly. Your eyes were lidded still from sleep, but they held nothing except calm like this was the most natural thing in the world. Like the boy in front of you, as he was, didn’t need to apologize for anything. Your hand gently moved, fingers brushing the edge of his jaw in the quietest touch.

“Hi,” you murmured, still smiling faintly.

Sal’s breath caught in his throat.

He couldn’t say anything at first. His throat felt tight, like emotion had quietly wrapped around it while he wasn’t paying attention. He blinked a few times unsure if he was trying to keep the moment or convince himself it was real.

“…You’re not looking away,” he finally said, barely a whisper.

“Why would I?” you replied, your voice just as soft. “It’s just you.”

That simple sentence held the weight of a thousand reassurances.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚The sun hung high over the school courtyard, casting sharp shadows on the cracked pavement of the outdoor cheer practice area. The sounds of sneakers squeaking, laughter, and upbeat music from someone’s speaker filled the air as you and the rest of the cheer team moved through another round of drills.

Your body moved on autopilot now high knees, arms tight, posture upright. The routine was muscle memory, but the heat made your shirt cling to your back and your ponytail stick annoyingly to your neck. Still, the energy around you was infectious.

“Alright, ladies, one more time!” Coach Hollins called out, hands clapping to the beat. “I want clean arms and sharper snaps this time. Let’s move like we mean it!”

You gave a quick nod to the two girls on either side of you Riley and Jae before falling into formation again. The team snapped into motion at the coach’s count.

“One two three, up!”

You lifted your leg into a high kick, arms raised into a perfect ‘V,’ face determined despite the burn in your thighs. Riley to your left let out a huff, shaking her head with a grin.

“You ever get tired of this?” she muttered under her breath.

“Only every second of every minute,” you whispered back, lips twitching upward.

“I heard that!” Coach Hollins barked playfully, but didn’t stop the routine.

After a few more counts, you dropped out of the line and moved to the sidelines with your small stunt group. You all grabbed water bottles and flopped onto the grass, sweat dripping, lungs still catching up.

Jae flopped dramatically onto her back beside you. “I swear this heat is trying to kill us.”

“Pretty sure it’s just the coach,” you said with a smirk, sipping from your bottle. “Sun’s innocent.”

“Oh please,” she groaned. “At this point I’d let the sun fight me. I’m already halfway dead.”

A couple other teammates laughed and plopped down beside you both, forming a loose circle of exhausted girls lying across the grass, limbs sprawled, stretching out like starfish in a sea of overtraining.

“I miss the days when practice meant jumping around for twenty minutes and eating orange slices,” Riley sighed dramatically. “Now it’s like military conditioning disguised with pom poms.”

One of the freshmen piped up, “Wait, you guys had snacks?”

Riley blinked. “You don’t?”

“Okay, okay,” said Kayla, dropping her pom poms onto the grass, “ I swear, if Trent looks at me like that one more time during math class, I’m gonna combust.”

The girls erupted into laughter around you. You leaned back onto your hands, legs stretched in front of you, catching your breath.

“hes a whore dont do it girl” another girl Jessie teased with a grin, nudging Kayla with her elbow.

“Shut up!” Kayla squeaked, face flushing.

You snorted softly and glanced at the sky for a second, internally giggling at how ridiculously teen movie this all felt. Sitting in your uniform on the grass, sweaty and giddy, talking about boys like it was the end of the world if someone didn’t text back in five minutes.

“I’m just saying,” Kayla continued with faux seriousness, “there’s something about a guy who has brains and can fuck so good at the same time. That’s dangerous.”

“He’s not even that cute,” murmured Bree, twirling a strand of her hair. “Now, Brayden from the soccer team? That’s boyfriend material.”

“Nooo,” you chimed in, shaking your head, “Brayden talks like a sentient protein shake.”

Laughter bubbled again as Bree clutched her chest dramatically. “hes hot give me a break!”

“Okay, okay, Y/N, who would you date if you had to pick?” Kayla asked, eyes narrowing with mock seriousness. “And don’t say no one. We’re not letting you wiggle out of this.”

You pursed your lips, pretending to think hard. “Hmm… does Sal Fisher count?”

Dead silence for a beat. Then the girls burst into laughter again slightly more confused this time. “Oh my god, is that the kid with the blue hair and the uh, the face thing?” Jessie asked, trying to keep her tone light.

“Yeah, the one who always wears that mask,” Bree added, stretching her legs. “You actually know him?”

“Sort of,” you shrugged, smiling to yourself. “He’s cool. Quiet, but funny in a weird way.”

The girls exchanged looks, not rude just kind of mystified. “I mean, I guess that’s kind of sweet,” Kayla said, shrugging. “But like… your group’s super different. No offense.”

“None taken,” you said brightly. “Weird’s kind of our whole brand.” They laughed again, and just like that, the moment moved on. You sat back again as the conversation turned to homecoming rumors and some sophomore drama involving lockers and glitter bombs.

The break didn’t last long Coach called for partner drills after another few minutes, and soon you were back on your feet, clapping along to counts, running through pyramid formations, and adjusting grips and stances.

Your muscles ached, sweat trailed down your spine, and the sun felt like it was trying to kiss your skin off but the rhythm of the team, the shouts of encouragement, the shared momentum it kept you going. Even if no one said it aloud, you were proud to be a part of this group.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚The group was cutting through the courtyard, skirting the edge of the cheer practice field on their way to Todd’s house. Ash was in the middle of one of her trademark complaints animated, relentless, and incredibly specific.

“I’m telling you, this guy in biology acts like smiling would kill him. I said one sarcastic thing, and he looked at me like I burned his childhood home to the ground.”

Todd nodded sympathetically. “Sounds like someone with zero sarcasm immunity.”

Larry popped a piece of gum into his mouth and muttered, “Sounds like someone who’s intimidated by a girl with actual brain cells.”

Ash smirked. “Damn right.”

Sal had been quiet, walking just a step behind them, hands in his hoodie pockets. But when they rounded the corner near the cheer practice field, something pulled at his attention.

The music blaring from a cheap speaker. The shuffle of sneakers on grass. The high pitched yelps and laughter. he saw you. You were within practice with the squad, bouncing through a set of drills. It was chaotic, like it always was during this part of practice, and your ponytail whipped around as you dropped into a set. There was a brief moment of clumsiness you tripped over someone’s foot and went tumbling backwards into the grass with a shout.

Sal instinctively took a step forward. From across the field, he watched you burst into laughter. The kind that made your shoulders shake. Your teammates were cracking up, helping you up, brushing you off. You weren’t embarrassed just glowing. Hair a mess, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling.

Sal stopped walking completely. That’s when Larry noticed.

“Anyway, I told him if he ever tried to talk over me again, I’d shove ” Ash was cut off when suddenly, Larry slapped a hand over her mouth.

“MMPH ?!”

He didn’t say a word just wrapped an arm around her shoulders and slowly turned her head in the direction of Sal.

“Look,” Larry whispered dramatically, the grin already forming at the corners of his mouth. “Look.”

Ash squinted. “What am I oh my god.”

Todd caught on and paused beside them.

From where they were standing, Sal was still. Not a single movement. His body was slack, hands relaxed in his pockets, head slightly tilted in your direction. The blue of his eyes was sharper, softer somehow behind the holes in his mask. Even if his expression was hidden behind the black and white plate… something in his posture said everything.

Larry leaned down, whispering like he’d just discovered a hidden species in the wild.

“Dude,” Larry said, grinning ear to ear. “He is so grown up and in love.”

“I didn’t know you could radiate heart eyes,” Ash whispered. “But he’s doing it.”

Todd, adjusting his glasses, studied Sal like he was reading a silent language. “yearning has become a person guys.”

“Yeah, he looks like a guy who just found religion,” Larry muttered.

Sal hadn’t moved. He didn’t even realize his friends had stopped. His gaze was fixed watching you wipe grass from your cheer skirt while laughing breathlessly with your teammates. Even behind the mask, they could tell his whole body was tuned in to you.

Larry smirked and elbowed Ash. “Ten bucks says he doesn’t even know he stopped walking.”

Ash grinned. “Twenty says he doesn’t even remember we’re here.”

Then, just as you glanced in his direction, Sal jolted slightly snapped out of it. You met eyes from across the field. You grinned and gave a short wave. Sal blinked… then raised a hand and gave the tiniest wave back before quickly shoving both hands into his hoodie pocket again.

His friends didn’t miss that either.

Ash snorted. “Yep. Fully gone. He’s toast.”

Larry grinned wickedly. “Imagine being so whipped your body just turns into a statue”

Sal turned toward them, eyes narrowing behind the mask. “…What?”

“Nothing,” Larry said, throwing an arm over Sal’s shoulders as they started walking again. “Just admiring the view. Cheerleading’s real educational this time of year.”

Ash winked. “Super enlightening.”

Todd patted Sal’s back. “Don’t worry. We’ll all act surprised when you confess.”

Sal grumbled under his breath, hoodie pulled tighter over his head. “You guys suck massive balls” But even as they walked away, his head turned one last time. As the group was finally peeling away from the edge of the field, Larry tossing a stick up and catching it while Ash continued her rant, they were just about to pass behind the school building when

“Hey! Todd!”

Your voice rang out over the grass, bright and cheerful, cutting through the late afternoon buzz. They all turned. You jogged over, ponytail bouncing, the edge of your cheer skirt still speckled with grass stains from your earlier fall. Your cheeks were a little flushed from the drills, but you hardly looked winded.

Todd perked up immediately. “Oh hey! What’s up?”

You stopped in front of him, a little breathless but grinning. “I started the physics homework, and I’m already in over my head. Can I go over it with you sometime this week? I promise I’ll bring snacks as a bribe.”

Todd chuckled, already reaching into his backpack. “You don’t even have to bribe me. I’ll text you the notes later and we can meet later, if you want?”

“That would be perfect,” you beamed. “You’re the best, Todd.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he teased with a little smile.

From behind him, Larry whispered theatrically, “Todd’s getting all the love today.”

Ash folded her arms. “As he should. He’s the only one who’s still passing any science class.”

But before you could respond, a sharp whistle blew from the field. Your coach was standing there, arms crossed, clearly waiting. You cringed slightly. “Whoops. Duty calls.”

You started jogging backward toward the field but called over your shoulder with a laugh, “I’ll see you dorks later!”

Larry clutched his chest dramatically. “She says with affection.”

Ash gave a salute. “Go, queen.”

Then you turned slightly, catching Sal’s eyes as you took a few more steps away. He hadn’t said anything hadn’t moved. He was just watching again, quietly, that unreadable expression hidden behind his mask. But his eyes… You smiled at him gently, a little softer than before. “Sal,” you said, “come over tonight, okay?”

He blinked once. “…Okay.”

Your grin widened just a little. And with that, you spun back around and jogged to join your teammates on the field, already calling an apology to your coach as you ran. The group watched in silence for a beat. As you disappeared back onto the field, Sal remained rooted in place like he’d just taken a mild electric shock completely still, hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly tense, though his expression was unreadable beneath the mask.

Larry, however, was already side eyeing him He stepped closer, squinting at Sal like he was trying to solve a puzzle he already knew the answer to. “So… you gonna tell me what that was, or should I just assume she invited you over to ‘study’?”

Sal blinked, slow and cautious. “She just said to come over later.”

Larry let out a low whistle and raised his brows. “Mmmhm. That’s how it starts, man. First it’s ‘come over,’ then it’s ‘sit on my bed,’ then suddenly both of you are pregannt”

Sal sighed. “It’s not like that.”

Larry gave him a lazy grin and elbowed him lightly. “Dude. Come on. You got the invite. That’s grounds FOR WHATEVER. You know how many dudes would sell their souls for a girl to say that to them with even half that softness?”

Todd wandered over, arms crossed and smirking. “It was suspiciously tender.”

Larry gave a mock thoughtful hum. “I’ll bring a flask. And condoms. Not for him. Just in case she realizes what a repressed weirdo he is and I gotta pick up the slack.”

Sal turned his head, deadpan. “You’re disgusting.”

Larry grinned, absolutely unbothered. “And yet, somehow still your best friend. Funny how that works.”

He leaned in a bit, dropping his voice into a mock serious tone. “Okay but real talk her place, alone, after school? foreplay waiting to happen. You sure you’re ready for that? What are you gonna do when she sits too close and your brain short circuits?”

Sal rubbed the back of his neck. “I dunno. Talk?”

Larry snorted. “Pfft. Classic. You better hope you don’t sit on the bed first or she’s gonna think you’ve got moves.”

Todd adjusted his glasses. “let the man breathe, I think that's enough teasing for right now”

Ash smiled. “Yeah! itll be all good, youre always at her place anyways, I dont see why this is anything new.”

Larry nodded sagely. “Look, man, I want you to scream into your phone the minute after you leave’”

Sal groaned, clearly regretting not disappearing with you when he had the chance. “Why do I even talk to you.”

Larry slung an arm over his shoulder. “Because I’m the only one giving you the talk no one else will. You’re entering sacred territory, my guy. The Bedroom Zone. That’s where the hot girls live.”

Sal dragged a hand down his face. “It’s just a casual hangout.”

Larry raised a brow. “Sure. Just like how ‘Netflix and chill’ is about movie appreciation.”

Ash cracked up, Todd chuckled, and Larry gave Sal one last smirk. “Look, if she offers you snacks and puts on a movie? Congrats. You’re halfway to a relationship you won’t admit you’re in for nine months.”

with that, he started walking ahead, hands in his pockets, calling back over his shoulder, “Don’t forget deodorant! And maybe brush your hair this time!” Sal stood there for a beat longer, ears pink, before quietly following, a small, reluctant smile twitching beneath the edge of his mask.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚Your apartment door clicked shut behind you as you kicked your shoes off with a groan that could’ve belonged to someone three decades older.

“Finally,” you muttered, dragging yourself toward the couch like it owed you money. “If I had to chant Hot to go one more time, I was going to throw myself into traffic.”

Sal stepped inside a few seconds later, quiet as usual, closing the door gently behind him. His shoes made a soft thump as he set them by the mat, and he trailed behind you like a shadow familiar, unobtrusive, calm. He always did tend to come over after practice when he could. It wasn’t a thing you had ever needed to explain. He just showed up, like gravity, and you always opened the door like you were expecting him. Because you were.

You dropped onto the couch with a flop, hair sticking to the back of your neck from all the sweat and yelling. “My legs are spaghetti. My soul has left my body. ”

Sal chuckled under his breath, then wandered further in, eyes scanning the room like he always did even though nothing ever changed. It was part habit, part quiet comfort. Your apartment was small, warm, dimly lit. Blankets were folded on the armrest. Your stupid lava lamp was bubbling peacefully on the shelf. The place smelled faintly of vanilla and shampoo and you. Which wouldn’t normally bother him. Except now Larry’s stupid voice was in his head like a mosquito trapped in a tin can. Sal blinked.

Right. Couch. You were on the couch. Not the bed. Totally normal. Sal watched you from the doorway for a moment, something amused in the angle of his head, He shifted a little awkwardly, standing there for a second too long before walking over and settling into the other end of the couch. He usually did that, too always a respectful amount of space, always calm and quiet. But tonight his back was a little straighter. His shoulders a little stiffer. His brain a little louder.

then quietly walked over and lowered himself onto the couch beside you. He sat stiff at first, unsure of how close to get, but your hand reached out to lightly tug on the hem of his sleeve.

“You can sit normal, Sal. I don’t bite,” you mumbled into a throw pillow.

Sal blinked. “…Right.”

So he settled in, closer now. Shoulders relaxed, hands resting in his lap.

You didn’t seem to notice. You sighed and reached for the throw blanket, dragging it over your lap. “I swear, our captain’s trying to kill us before regionals. That girl has no chill at all.”

Sal nodded, fiddling with the frayed end of his sleeve. “You looked good out there. In practice, I mean. You’re, um… really good.”

You cracked a tired smile. “Wow. A whole compliment? Who are you and what have you done with the real Sal?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean it.”

You leaned back, eyes drifting closed for a moment. “Thanks. That’s sweet.”

Sal stared at the ceiling. God. Larry was so annoying. worse he might have been a little right. Sal snuck a glance at you. You were curled up under your blanket, makeup smudged, hair messy, hoodie riding up slightly as you hugged a pillow to your chest. Relaxed. Comfortable. Like this was normal. It was normal. But now his heart was doing this thing in his chest, like it couldn’t decide if it was nervous or just stupid. He’d been in this apartment a hundred times. But now he was acutely aware of every inch of the couch between you. Every sound. Every breath.

“Hey,” you said suddenly, eyes fluttering open. “You okay? You’re quiet.”

Sal blinked. “I’m always quiet.”

You tilted your head, watching him for a second. “Yeah, but this is like… extra quiet. Like ‘do I need to get you tea or something?”

Sal flushed under the mask. “I’m just tired. Long day.”

You nodded like that made perfect sense and scooted over slightly just an inch or two. Just enough to close the space between you a little. “Same. You can lean back, y’know. You look like you’re in timeout.”

You shifted again, grumbling about how sore your thighs were from endless jumping and kicks, and without much thought, you swung your legs up and over Sal’s lap.Sal froze just a bit at the sudden contact like someone had startled a cat but when you didn’t move again, he relaxed slowly. He looked down at your legs draped across him, then up at your face. You weren’t even paying attention, completely at peace.

“So,” you started casually, “there’s this show in the city next month like a mini festival kind of deal? Bunch of local punk and alt bands. Larry and Ash wanna go, and I’m so tempted.”

Sal blinked, his hands awkwardly hovering near your shins. “You gonna go?”

You shrugged. “Maybe. Depends on money, and if we survive regionals without blowing our knees out. But also… I don’t have anything to wear. I can’t show up in pastel to a punk show.”

He gave a small huff of amusement, fingers finally settling on your legs just resting there at first, the lightest contact. “Bet you could make anything work,” he murmured.

You smirked at that, cracking one eye open to look at him. “You flirting with me, Fisher?”

“Barely,” he said, voice teasing but warm.

You grinned and nudged his arm with your foot. You rambled on about some of the bands on the lineup, flipping through your phone with one hand while the other idly tugged at the blanket. Sal nodded, adjusting slightly under your legs. “Yeah. Larry won’t shut up about it. He wants to mosh until he dislocates a shoulder.”

“That’s such a Larry thing. I was thinking about going. It’s not really my usual scene, but I don’t know… it’d be fun.”

Sal tilted his head toward you, curiosity sparking. “You can always see, you did say you liked my music before and its not too far off”

You started rambling, voice soft but animated mentioning outfits with fishnets, oversized band tees, maybe one with a leather jacket if the night was cold. A crop top you hadn’t had a chance to wear yet. And somewhere along the way soft and slow Sal’s fingers began to move.

He hadn’t meant to, not consciously. But as you spoke, he found himself gently running his fingertips along your shin, then your calf, trailing little absentminded patterns with the pads of his fingers. He moved like he was afraid to startle you, every brush of his hand tender and hesitant. You didn’t react at first. Perhaps you didn’t even notice. But your voice dipped a little, more relaxed, like the comfort of it had settled into your bones. Your leg twitched slightly in contentment, and Sal’s hand paused Then continued, slower this time.“That purple top you wore at the bonfire,” he said suddenly, voice quiet, almost like it snuck out of him, “you looked… really nice in it.”

You turned your head toward him, eyes blinking open with a sleepy little smile. “Yeah?”

He nodded, eyes flicking away. His hand stilled again, resting warm and steady on your leg. “Yeah.” Sal blinked, clearly only just now realizing he was still touching you. He froze for a second again, his fingers hovering in place like they’d been caught doing something illegal.

You raised a brow. “What, you gonna stop now?”

He hesitated then quietly resumed, a small smile hidden beneath his mask. “No,” he said softly. “I’ll keep going.”

You smiled to yourself and let your eyes close. despite the thoughts running miles a minute in his head, despite the ghost of Larry’s voice still rattling around somewhere in the background saying, “You’re in too deep, lover boy,” Sal didn’t stop. He just sat there, calm and quiet as ever, slowly tracing lazy circles against your skin.

You yawned, stretching your arms again until your fingertips grazed the top of the couch. “You should just stay the night again,” you said, voice casual, like it wasn’t making Sal’s heart immediately stutter in his chest. “You’ve still got clothes here from the last time. Plus, I don’t feel like saying bye.”

Sal blinked at you, unsure if you were teasing or not. He nodded slowly. “…Yeah. Okay. If you’re cool with it.”

You gave a little grin. “I wouldn’t’ve asked if I wasn’t.”

You sat up slightly, arms propped behind you. “Also, I’ve been craving something sweet all day. Wanna bake something? Cookies? Muffins? Brownies? We’ve got options, Sal.”

He opened his mouth to say something sarcastic but instead, what came out, soft and automatic, was:

“Yeah. Sure. Anything with you.” There was a brief pause. You blinked at him. He blinked at himself. Then his shoulders hunched a little as he realized what he’d just said. “I mean not anything anything. I just meant like I’m down for whatever you wanna bake. Or whatever.” His voice went lower and quicker with each word, panic mode lightly engaged.

You, meanwhile, were trying not to grin like a fool. “Anything with me?” you teased, poking his side.

Sal groaned and covered his face with his hand. “Please forget I said that.”

You smirked. “Relax. I got the message.”

You walked into the kitchen, still grinning as you rummaged through cabinets. “We’re doing cookies. I’ve got chocolate chips, let’s go.”

Sal followed after you, his hands shoved in his pockets now, even if you also unknowingly made his heart trip over itself every ten seconds.

You were already digging through the baking shelf when Sal joined you in the kitchen, He looked more at home than anyone had the right to in someone else’s apartment. And maybe that’s because this wasn’t “someone else’s” anymore not to him. You held up a bag of chocolate chips like it was sacred treasure. “Behold. The only reason this dough will be tolerable.”

Sal smirked faintly, leaning a hip against the counter. “Wow. No faith in your own baking skills?”

You scoffed, tossing the bag on the counter. “I’m realistic. My baking is edible. Not gourmet.”

“I’ve eaten weirder things,” he said, deadpan, reaching for the mixing bowl.

Your eyebrow arched. “That’s not comforting.”

“I mean, you’re letting me help, so who’s really at fault here?”

You made a dramatic show of dumping flour into the bowl. “You've got all my trust, blue boy.”

He nodded solemnly. You passed him the whisk while cracking eggs into a small bowl. Sal took the whisk with a little more flair than necessary. “How do I stir this? is there a certain way or?”

You paused, watching him with amusement. “I dunno, maybe talk dirty to it. ‘Cause these cookies are about to be sinful.”

Without missing a beat, Sal leaned down a little and murmured to the bowl in his calmest voice, “Hey, sugar. You like it rough, or should I ease the chocolate chips in slowly?”

You choked on your laugh so hard you had to grab the counter for support. “SAL. What the hell ?!”

He grinned as he started mixing, shoulder bouncing slightly from his own laughter. “You started it.”

“You said it too well, that’s the problem,” you said, smacking his arm with a dish towel. “Didnt know i was hanging out with a FREAK”

“I try my best” he said, licking a bit of dough off his finger after moving his mask to the side ever so slightly.

You paused. “Did you just raw dog cookie dough? theres eggs in that” He looked at you, expression unreadable under his mask, “…I walked into that one, didn’t I?” you mumbled.

“Hard,” he replied simply.

You groaned, hiding your face behind your hands. “I liked it better when you were flustered and awkward.”

“Too late,” Sal said, dumping the chocolate chips in with an almost smug level of confidence. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling as you reached over to flick flour at him. He ducked with surprising grace, the grin behind the mask audible in his voice. “Try me again and you’re getting dough on your face.”

“Oh no,” you gasped “What ever shall I doooooo” He dipped two fingers in the bowl. “Don’t you dare.” He looked at you. stared deep into your eyes. then slowly took a taste instead. You stared at him, jaw dropped. “Thought you were gonna smear it on me,” you muttered.

“Tempting,” he said casually, licking the last bit of dough off his thumb, “but I’m not wasting chocolate on your forehead.”

“Oh, so we’re economical and sassy tonight are we?”

He shrugged. “Multitasking.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ The oven beeped to life, the tray of cookies safely tucked inside. You set the timer with a satisfied little hum, turning on your heel just as Sal moved to put the mixing bowl in the sink. You didn’t mean to step into him, but the narrow kitchen and your complete lack of awareness sent you directly into his chest.

You both froze.

Your hands braced instinctively against his chest, his hands caught at your shoulders in an effort to steady you. It wasn’t a rough impact. The air shifted instantly. You looked up at him, suddenly hyper aware of how close you were. The only thing keeping your faces apart… was the smooth surface of his mask.

Neither of you moved. You looked up, startled at first, but then your gaze softened. The glow of the kitchen light cast gold shadows across the room, and you swore you could see a flush creeping beneath the edge of his hairline.

His hands didn’t drop right away. Neither did yours. barely above a whisper, Sal said, “It’s not fair… how easy it is to want this with you.”

The words fell out of him like they’d been waiting to be said for weeks. stripped of any of the usual carefulness he kept wrapped around himself. Your breath caught, eyes searching his through the hair that had fallen across his face. Your voice was barely above a whisper when you spoke.

“Can I… take it off?”

His breath hitched. He blinked. “Wh– wow, okay. Um. Your phrasing is kinda uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight. “You make it sound like we’re about to hook up on the counter.”

You blinked then burst out laughing. “Oh my god, Sal.” You smacked his chest lightly. “That wasn’t even what I meant, but now I can’t un hear it.”

He gave a helpless, sheepish shrug, eyes crinkling just a little. “You said it, not me.”

You tilted your head, grinning up at him. “We can save that for another time, then.”

That shut him up. You watched as his brain visibly short circuited, eyes going wide before darting off to the side in panic. His ears turned bright pink beneath his hair.

“Joking,” you whispered, though the glint in your eye said you weren’t completely kidding. “Mostly.”

He let out a soft huff as he let his hands drop from your waist, stepping back just slightly but not enough to break the warmth still hanging between you. You tilted your head. “I’m serious, though. I won’t push. But if you ever feel ready… I’d like to see the whole you again.”

Sal nodded slowly, eyes dropping to the floor for a beat before flicking back up. “I know.”

The beep sliced through the silence like a mischievous little gremlin, reminding you that time and cookies waited for no emotionally charged stare downs. You blinked, the moment still humming in your chest, then snorted softly. “Relax. It’s just the halfway point.”

Sal rolled his eyes, stepping back just a bit more but not enough to be out of reach. “You act like I was the one making it weird.”

You lifted a brow. “Oh, really? ‘It’s not fair how easy it is to want this with you’ that wasn’t a little weird?”

He groaned and rubbed the back of his neck. “You were this close to getting a sweet moment, and you blew it.”

“I didn’t blow anything,” you shot back with a smirk, walking over to check the oven through the glass. “but given the chance .”

“Y/n, don't even start you perv” Sal let out a surprised little laugh behind his mask, looking at you like you were the most ridiculous thing he’d ever seen.

“I cant help it when I’ve got a hot guy in my kitchen,” you said, glancing at him.

He tilted his head, eyes glinting. “Hot guy?”

“Oh, please. Don’t act surprised. You know exactly what you’re doing in those damn sweatpants.”

Another beep interrupted you, louder this time. You spun to open the oven and muttered, “Cookie time,.” Sal chuckled, walking over behind you and peeking over your shoulder as you reached in with the mitts. “Don’t crowd me,” you teased.

“Just trying to make sure you don’t burn your hands.”

“You burn your mouth on these and I’m not driving you to the ER.”

“Oh, I won’t. I’m excellent with handling hot things.”

Your head turned slowly. “You did not just say that.”

He grinned like the smug bastard he secretly was and plucked a chip off the edge of one cookie. “Too late.”

You watched as Sal carefully moved the cookies to a plate. “Okay,” you said between chews, “we’ve officially earned the right to crash. I say we head to my room movie, cookies, blankets, the whole comfy package.”

Sal paused as he was reaching for another cookie, fingers hovering. “Your… room?”

You turned to him, one brow raised. “Yeah. My bed has like… six pillows. And heated blankets. Plus the TV’s bigger.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚The movie was already twenty minutes in by the time the two of you had finally settled on your bedYou were leaned against Sal’s shoulder, one of your legs curled beneath you, and his body was warm where it pressed gently into yours. Neither of you said much at first, letting the ambient noise of the film fill the space. It was peaceful. Familiar. But for Sal, something about the moment tugged at his thoughts.

He swallowed thickly, barely noticing the way your head had drifted to rest just a little more against him. He was remembering. Your laughter in his room just a few days ago. The way you’d leaned into him so naturally. your body curled into his side played on repeat in his mind more than the movie ever could. He’d said nothing then, hadn’t even dared breathe too loudly, afraid it would pop the fragile bubble of comfort he’d never known he needed.

But now… it was happening again. Here. In your space. Now, lying beside you again, your hair brushing his jawline every now and then when you shifted slightly, he could feel that same quiet gravity pulling at him.

Sal glanced down at you. You were focused on the screen, but he caught the tiny smile at the corner of your mouth perhaps at the film, or at the warmth of the room, or, maybe because of him. He liked to think it was that last one.

You suddenly shifted, laying more fully against his chest and letting your arm rest lightly across his stomach. “Too many cookies,” you mumbled.

He huffed a laugh, his hand instinctively coming up to rest against your back. “That’s on you. I told you to pace yourself.”

“You say that every time, and yet here we are,” you muttered into his shirt. “Besides, they were good and not as bad as i anticipated. Admit it.”

“They were good,” he said quietly. “You always make them good.” Sal chuckled softly under his breath, a hand resting near your waist under the blanket. He could feel the way you molded against him, so naturally. So easily.

The mask felt heavier than usual. He blinked slowly, something shifting inside him. A decision. It wasn’t sudden. It had been building for a while through the shared jokes, the lingering glances, the safety of your presence. now, here, in the soft glow of your bedroom, with your warmth against his side and your breathing matching his, it didn’t feel terrifying.

Sal reached up and slipped the mask from his face. The air hit his skin differently without it. Vulnerability being oh so strong now. But not in a bad way. Not here.

He held the mask in his lap, his hands fidgeting with the straps while his eyes flicked toward you. His lips parted like he might say something, but the words stuck

It was subtle at first just the faintest change in the way his breathing slowed, like he was bracing himself. Your eyes fluttered up and adjusted to the dim room, and when you tilted your head slightly to look at him…

For a second, you just blinked Sal noticed your gaze immediately and stiffened. “Don’t look too hard,” he said quickly, voice low and tense.

You turned fully toward him, shifting just enough to sit up slightly on your elbow. “Sal,” you murmured, your voice laced with surprise but not a hint of pity.

Then, slowly, your hand lifted toward his face. His eyes flicked to your fingers as they hovered near his cheek, and he flinched just slightly but enough for you to pause. He wasn’t used to being seen like this. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, barely above a whisper. “I just I know it’s not…”

Your hand gently made contact with his cheek, and he stopped talking. You were warm. Steady. You didn’t pull back. Your thumb brushed lightly across his skin, tracing the edge of one of his scars without hesitation.

“It’s not what?” you asked quietly. “Not what you think I want to see? Sal, I’ve wanted to do this for months.”

before he could say anything, you leaned in and pressed your lips softly gently against his. It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was patient. the world could finally stop spinning just long enough for him to realize: he was wanted. Just like this.

Sal’s eyes widened, the warmth of your lips still lingering as you pulled back, close enough that your breath still ghosted across his skin. His ears were red. His cheeks too. He blinked once, then twice. “You… wanted to?” he asked, barely able to meet your eyes.

You smiled, so close he could feel it. “Of course I did.”

He didn’t respond right away. Just looked at you, like he was still waiting to wake up from something too good to be real. Then, hesitantly like testing the weight of the moment Sal leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in return. This kiss was shy, soft, but undeniably him nervous, sweet, and full of something he didn’t quite know how to say yet.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead gently against yours. He was blushing furiously, but he didn’t hide this time.