if i lay here.

⌠ BOOBOO STEWART, TWENTY-THREE, CIS MALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, SEBASTIAN “BASH” STEWART! according to their records, they’re a SECOND year, specializing in KNIFE FIGHTING SKILLS, SWORD TRAINING, PRECISION SHOOTING, FIREARMS & SWAT TRAINING + MEDICAL TRAINING; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (messy manbun, lips pressed together tightly, head stuck in a thick book). when it’s the (cancer)’s birthday on 6/30/1997, they always request their VEGAN CHEESESTEAK from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.

Wilder had almost forgotten what it was like to kiss someone. The soft patter of his pulse rising in his ears makes the distant party sound like they’re underwater; he nearly forgets to breathe. Something about kissing Bash is different; calming, like a rattling has finally settled in his chest. He understands now why none of his other crushes ever worked out, why he’d rather spend his free time talking with Bash even if it never lead to a moment like this. It only helps that, if he’s not absolutely imagining it, Bash doesn’t pull away–he’s kissing him back. The realization makes Wilder laugh into the kiss, chest rumbling against their interlocked pinkies, weak at the tickle of the tips of their noses. His body edges forward a little when he feels Bash pull away, and his heartbeat speeds as his vision adjusts, a creeping worry that the delirious feeling of kissing him might be a one time thing. But before the whirling in his stomach can subside, he’s being kissed again, and this time he holds on a little longer. He doesn’t feel like there’s anything more he can say that his hands aren’t saying for him, a fuzzy feeling in his fingers when his free hand rests on Bash’s jawline, their pinkies fall to his lap. He knows he’s been struggling with what he wants to do post Gallagher, and maybe it’s the lazy daiquiri (brazy daiquiri? crazy daiq-), but Wilder wouldn’t mind doing this a little longer. But he knows he can’t, because they would get hungry, and he would get greedy, the green sin, and he wouldn’t want to do anything else ever again. So he exhales, dizzy when he slows the kiss to stop reluctantly, forehead resting on Bash’s for a few beats before his eyelashes drift open and he leans away. “—you have to freeze it.” he gestures, shaking his head with a shy frazzled laugh. He clears his throat. “Before you torch it, the Baked Alaska, you have to freeze it.” Wilder pauses with warm cheeks, feels his chest rise and fall in slow motion, and nibbles his bottom lip before exhaling another laugh.  

      THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT TONIGHT that makes bash feel like a completely different person. in a way, it could be argued he is --- in just a few hours he’ll be sebastian stewart no more, and maybe the opportunity of a wide open future is what’s gotten into him tonight  ( well, that and the alcohol ) .   once he had decided he’d no longer be returning to gallagher, he started to feel the finality in everything he did :   taking his last final, his last lunch with val and mary, getting ready for his last ppc event. but that had all been a drumroll leading up to this moment, and through this kiss that tastes of laughter and hazy daiquiris, bash can feel it :   the END.  it almost makes him feel sad, although it won’t hit until they eventually pull away, and he’ll wonder if maybe he’s making the right decision leaving. but wilder’s leaving too, so it really doesn’t make a difference, does it ?   all they have is this moment, and bash wants to spend it free of regrets. so he’ll kiss the boy back, letting his fingers fidget in wilder’s lap until it’s more than just their pinkies that are hooked together, but the other four fingers as well. bash has thought he’d always be one to shy away from public displays of affection, but if anyone is watching them now, they’re not on his radar. his free hand comes up to brush some of wilder’s hair away from his forehead, maybe a little awkwardly, but bash has always admired his hair -- may as well take advantage of being able to touch it while he still can. it’s only when they slowly pull away a second time that his brain starts working again, feeling heat rise to his cheeks the moment their foreheads rest against each other’s. he feels a little naked when wilder pulls away altogether, but it helps when he says something... even if it takes bash a good thirty seconds to realize what he’s talking about.   “ what ?   oh. ”   he can only glance away as he laughs, a little nervously, although bash wouldn’t exactly call himself nervous. it’s just finally catching up to him the implications behind kissing wilder, even if it’s a good thing.   “ that... sounds complicated, ”   he finally adds, and there’s a hand on his cheek when he glances back at the other man.   “ you’ll have to send me pictures. ”

“It’s torched.” Which is half the hard part, but also the fun part, though Wilder’s sure he and his mom won’t have too much trouble. “It’s like ice cream, and cake, and meringue. And then it’s torched.” He nods slowly, reciting whatever he’d heard on a three minute video, convinced he could do it from memory. He doesn’t think Bash will be making Baked Alaska in the near future, but describing it makes it easier not to focus on what he’s really thinking about. “And then you flambé.” Which he’s not going to define, because he’s hoping it’s also not all that relevant to Bash, and that they’re both thinking about something else entirely. Or the more likely outcome with them two, not thinking at all. He laughs softly like a hiccup. “I’ll for sure send pictures.” Wilder really really hopes he does. The last time he’d gone home sad he distanced himself, inhabited by arguably the worst texter, and a small part of him worries he’ll repeat that. But he doesn’t want to ignore Bash, which is currently impossible to do with their pinkies interlocked. Warmth walks his arm when their fingers lace, leaving a little trail of bumps in its path. He lets his wrist hang in the air a little heavier, pinkies knit. He presumes it’s the closest they’ll ever get to holding hands. Despite not having expected the next bit, it’s a feeling not foreign, the thought of missing him. His eyebrows twitch. Wilder doesn’t want to miss Bash. But if he must miss him, he’d prefer to miss him in his entirety. If he must miss him, he’d prefer to miss him the way he wants to remember him. So he leans, pulls their pinkies closer to his chest, and tries not to think too hard when he closes his eyes and leaves it up to chance that his lips will land in the right place. The primaries of his golden wings cramp against the bench clumsily, a flurry in his belly. If he’s going to miss Bash, he’d prefer to miss him like this–pinky in pinky, kissing him. 

      “ THAT SOUNDS REALLY GOOD, ”   he says, which is true, although it also sounds like a lot of work for just one dessert. but bash has never had to use a torch when baking before, and the suggestion does intrigue him. knowing wilder he’ll probably send videos of him making it  ( granted he doesn’t ghost him again while he’s in germany, but bash isn’t even considering that ) ,   or at least he hopes so, because it’d be fun to watch along.   “ good, ”   bash smiles slightly, taking wilder at his word. why wouldn’t he ?   they’re almost pinky promising, and you can’t lie during a pinky promise. what happens next is so quick, that bash doesn’t even have time to process it :   his hand being tugged by its pinky closer to wilder, heads leaning in, eyelashes fluttering before lips are met halfway. there’s no thought behind his actions, movements made purely on instinct and desire. this was something he had WANTED, he realizes in that moment, or maybe something he was hoping for throughout their entire conversation, although not realizing the extent of that wanting until this moment. perhaps wilder knows bash better than he knows himself, for being the one to bridge the gap between them. there’s a soft smile on his lips when he kisses him back, noses brushing together lightly. it won’t be long until his brain eventually catches up with the rest of his body, and bash has to pull away slightly so he can let out a wondrous chuckle, as if to say  ‘ did that really just happen ? ’   heartbeat in his ears, his eyes will flutter open so they can meet the other boy’s, wanting to remember this moment exactly how it is. in the coming weeks, it won’t be the blackmail or the betrayals that bash remembers when he thinks of gallagher, but curly hair and gold wings and soft lips. and because bash already knows he’s going to want to remember this as best as he can, he leans in to kiss him again, while he still can.

“Okay.” Wilder smiles softly with a lighter laugh back, and that’s somehow better than the original extra hour he’d imagined with the other. In this scenario, he has his trust. Pretty cool stuff, if you ask him. Wilder’s never been good at staying on topic, so he doesn’t mind the brief lull in the conversation when Bash goes for his drink, it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. He almost forgets about the persimmons, and about the nearly empty drink seated below him, and about the reality of how he’ll be very far away in a very short amount of time. None of that feels all that pertinent when they’re close now, both in pertaining and in proximity. And just like he considered that he knew Bash, he considers that they’ll always be close. Maybe not in the way he’d like, or the way they keep talking about, making plans and pledges that may never come into fruition. But he’d given a small part of himself to Bash without even having to be asked, without even having to tell him. So yeah, of course they’ll always be close. “Hmm?” Again, he forgot about the persimmons. “We’re gonna learn how to make Baked Alaska.” He says fondly, less rambling than usual, less invested in the conversation when he doesn’t mind just sitting there, looking. Weeks ago when Marifer asked him what he would do instead of being a spy Wilder replied he’d want to learn how to make Baked Alaska, or Croquembouche. It’s the first thing he pitched to his mother when he mentioned coming home at the end of the summer. He’s yet to tell her he won’t be coming back to Gallagher in the fall, but he doesn’t mention that. Whenever I come. Wilder doesn’t think he’s drunk or anything, a little tired but he’s aware of what’s immediate, what’s in his line of view, what he can and can’t guarantee. He stretches his wrist out gently anyway, choosing to ignore it in favor of believing, he doesn’t have to reach far, and wiggles his pinky out playfully. “I will, promise. Whenever you come.”

       “ HOW DO YOU MAKE BAKED ALASKA ? ”   he asks, before realizing the obvious :  wilder hasn’t learned how yet.   “ i mean, what is it, anyway ?   is it like fried ice cream, but... baked ? ”   he’s said a few stupid things tonight that have gone over his head, but even bash can’t help but cringe a little at what he had just said. at least there’s a sheepish smile on his lips as he does it, because he’s more judging himself, not really thinking about wilder judging him. bash isn’t sure when he stopped worrying about wilder judging him -- probably around the time bash failed to realize that wilder was someone he didn’t want to lose in his life.   “ that sounds like fun, though. send pictures ? ”   he doesn’t want the photos to stop after wilder’s road trip. of all the ways to respond to bash’s soft promise, what he doesn’t expect is for the other man to offer up his hand -- no, pinky. despite not being able to remember a single pinky promise he’s ever made, this one feels more serious than past ones anyway, even if there’s a lighthearted smile on his face as he hooks their pinkies together.   “ i promise too, ”   bash says, because it’s a pinky promise, and promising is sort of what you’re supposed to do. his eyes flicker towards their entwined fingers, before back up at wilder.   “ i’m really going to miss you, ”   the words come out effortlessly, a thought that had been an endless loop in his head for the past few minutes that bash couldn’t get to pipe down. he’s not even ashamed to admit it, just feels a little sad for letting the conversation turn even the slightest bit negative.

“Yeah I guess it is pretty complicated, but you’d get it if you played.” If he could understand it Bash would be fine, since they’re different strands of the same stupid. Modern romance. Wilder’s nervous after he gives his hot take, feels his throat tighten when Bash looks back at him. Wilder feels like he really knows Bash, like he’s really tried to know Bash, and the thought that he might not guess something as silly as an alignment almost upsets him. Because no, of course he knows him. “Oh, thank god.” He laughs, feeling the seconds of tension in his spine dissipate, replaced with a fuzziness in his gut. “Last time I tried to guess a friend’s alignment it started like a whole hour debate.” He jokes, but that doesn’t sound terrible, another hour here with Bash. Wilder hums, single shoulder shrugging. “I never minded it.” Growing up an only child with that much energy left him getting in trouble more often than not, but anything he ever did was in pursuit of fun. Wilder’s never seen Bash the way he sees himself. Never thought he was too shy or too inarticulate or the least bit dull. When people who don’t know Bash describe him Wilder never quite understands, because that’s not really how he is when they’re together. He wonders if Bash ever feels like he knows him a little differently, because Wilder has told him things he’s never told anyone else either. Which is kind of a feat, because he talks so much. A satisfied sigh leaves Wilder’s chest, audible as he thins his lips in a soft smile, remembering it’s probably better to be up on his feet when he drinks than seated and pensive. A calm washes over his body as a result of absolute comfort, like he’s nearly forgotten they’re at a party at all, and with it a wave of tranquility that matches Bash’s posture. Elbow on the bench, head in his palm, dark messy curls causing him to flinch an eye shut with a laugh, closer. “Yeah, peaceful.” Wilder smiles, and he likes that plan because it’s something Bash can do to feel closer to his mom and old home. “You should, that sounds nice. Maybe you can grow persimmons.” He probably can’t, but that doesn’t really matter. It’s nice to imagine. Wilder’s head tilts at the suggestion, “Maybe, yeah. When I get back.” He hasn’t thought too hard about what he’ll do when he lands in Germany, but that’s a nice place to start. “You’ll have to visit too one day, yeah? I’ll see yours if you see mine.”

      HE ALMOST SAYS THAT THEY SHOULD PLAY IT ONE DAY, but has to stop himself, because bash is a little tired of making plans that he already expects to fall through. it’s hard enough leaving behind the people he cares about at gallagher, let alone continuing to imagine a world where it was made easy to come over for game night at wilder’s. he lives on the other side of the world, for pete’s sake. the relief that radiates off wilder after bash speaks makes him laugh, looking at him a bit incredulously. as if bash would ever say something that would even potentially upset the other man.   “ i’ll just take your word for it, ”   he says with a small, teasing smile. bash thinks that wilder knows him so well that he could’ve said chaotic neutral and he probably would’ve believed him. wilder doesn’t seem like the type that would mind getting in trouble, but only because bash finds it hard to believe he ever would, not because he wouldn’t do anything bad but because he expects wilder is the type of person with enough charisma to smile his way out of trouble. sometimes it feels like every time he talks to wilder, he’s hearing about a new friend of his, and it makes him grateful for whenever he does get to spend time with him -- clearly wilder’s time was a hot commodity. bash feels a rush of warmth over his body when wilder mimics his pose on the bench, and it feels strangely intimate. to cool himself down, he reaches for his glass of water, only to drink the cocktail instead. oops. that’ll show him to not try to do anything when he doesn’t want to move his gaze off the person in front of him.   “ i don’t know if they’d do well in arizona, but i’ll look it up and get back to you, ”   he offers, as if growing wilder’s favorite fruit would mean he’d come to visit more. he’ll take all the chances he can get.   “ do you and your mom have plans for when you get home ? ”   bash asks, knowing he’s got to be excited to see her and his grandma soon.   “ i definitely want to visit. you’ll have to take me, whenever i can come. ”   his parents had been killed in germany ;   it’s nice for the country to have a happier connotation now. 

“Yeah, we should!” They’ve talked enough about the things they’ll do once they both leave and he thinks watching a movie is the easiest. Wilder’s not hooked on technicalities. It doesn’t matter so much when things will happen, only that they inevitably will. “Basically. There’s different things you can be, like a wizard. And there’s elves and humans too. I’m usually a gnome, ‘cause they’re cute.” He grins proudly, far more fascinated by the world building than the game itself. “Alignments are like, uhm, like how a person is morally?” He’s not exactly sure but he’s the expert here so he knows Bash isn’t fact checking him. Wilder sighs with a hum, lips purse in thought but he keeps his gaze fixed on Bash, like he could read the answer right off him. Bash’s opinion of himself counters Wilder’s, who thinks the best of him and answers promptly with, “Lawful good.” A beat before realizing he should explain, taking a drink and sitting his cup between them, counting on his fingers. “You’re compassionate, and–what is it? Honorable. Honorable? Yeah. Good. But might…well sometimes you might feel bad if you do something against what you think the rules are, even if what you did is good. That’s where the law comes in…but like a personal law. Like duty. I’m bad at explaining.” 

“I’d like that.” It might be nicer to stay somewhere more familiar. Not that Wilder has any idea what Bash’s home looks like, only that the other boy would be there, and that’s all the familiar he needs. “Uhm…” Wilder chortles, looks down at the cups trying to remember his childhood home enough for words. Sometimes when you’re forced to leave things they’re no longer yours, and it makes him sad, that the things most special to him might reside with someone else against his will. He wonders if the new owners fixed the squeaking floorboards. “Okay, well–” A spring in energy, gripping his cup and tapping his fingers on its spine as he drinks. He pulls his knee on the bench, other foot pressed to the pavement. “It was a lot like how you said, private, peaceful. Bigger than our city place but not big, just right, you know?” Wilder takes a moment to appreciate the way Bash looks with his head in his palm, a lull of distraction that doesn’t feel like a distraction at all. It’s the first time since they fused that he considers he might be experiencing the effects of whatever he’s drinking, something easy to attribute feeling hazy eyed. His smile is fond, wistful, now convinced there are different versions of home. “Always smelled like cardamom in the morning.” A scent that never stuck to the wallpaper of their city flat. “I had a cat!” His shoulders bounce, finger running circles around the rim of his glass. “Well, not really, she kind of just lived around the area. Her name was Raccoon.” The name Wilder chose for her which she never responded to. “We had a garden. It was usually quiet except for well–me.” He definitely didn’t like it as much growing up as it sounds. Loves it more now that it’s a memory. “I just know you’d have liked it.”

“ SOUNDS LIKE A COMPLICATED GAME, ”   he says, though bash doesn’t make it sound like a bad thing. it kind of sounds like fun, being able to create your own character and do whatever you want. he’d probably want to be a wizard, because there’s something cool about having magic powers. wilder’s proud grin about being a gnome makes him chuckle, and it’s unsurprising he’s never thought about the cuteness of gnomes until right now. he had actually just been asking on how moral alignment plays into the game, not really what it is  ( since he already knows ) ,   but he’ll nod along to wilder’s explanation anyway, as if he’s just learning about it for the first time. the way the other man looks at him as he considers bash’s alignment makes him smile, but he has to glance away in bashfulness, giving wilder privacy to figure it out for himself. the answer surprises him, because again, he wouldn’t have chosen it for himself.    “ really ? ”   he glances back at him, letting himself actually consider the option, especially when wilder describes it. it... does sound like him. a much nicer way than bash would ever describe himself, sure, but it makes him smile anyway.   “ i like it. you’re probably right. i never liked getting in trouble as a kid. ”   or even now -- bash is very much the kind of person who wants to make as little waves as possible, purely so he doesn’t disturb anyone else around him. the sad truth is that even if he had been able to tell someone about his blackmailing, there’s a very good chance he would’ve kept quiet anyway.

tucked away in the corner of the outside, bash almost feels like he’s a million miles away from gallagher, a freeing feeling. he doesn’t even realize he’s leaning in a bit more when wilder starts talking, and it almost reminds him of what storytime as a kid would feel like, when his parents would sit him and spencer down and tell them tales of past missions they had been on. being with wilder reminds bash a lot of home, or at least the feelings that come with the memory of it --- a warm easiness that isn’t something bash feels with many people, something he had never really experienced with someone that wasn’t blood until arriving to gallagher. there were people like mary and val who he had immediately clicked with, a luxury that bash had never really experienced before, being able to make fast friends and KEEP them. but wilder had been a friendship that kind of crept up on him, so easy to talk to that bash finds himself telling him things that he hasn’t ever told anyone. not an easy feat for someone who usually stumbles over his words. bash can picture the home as wilder’s describing it, and he wishes nothing more than to be able to see it for himself.   “ it sounds peaceful. ”   there’s an almost sleepy smile on his lips.   “ my mom had a garden too. it’s probably gone now, but i’d like to restart it, when i get back. ”   but bash is still thinking about the home wilder had just described.   “ you should visit this summer. check it off your bucket list. ”

It’s definitely the alcohol and elated buzz coursing through Priya’s body that’s got her so lively. She usually has a much cooler air and self-proclaimed badass composure, but she’s drunk and she’s happy and she has very little care in the world right now, and it’s the last day of school in a very crazy year for her and everyone else. What wouldn’t have changed if she were sober is that she is genuinely excited to meet him, knowing how close and important he is to Mary. She smiles wide in response and orders two more drinks for the both of them before handing one off to him. “Yup! I don’t really think I’m ready to go back to a full-fledged med school just yet, besides… this place kind of grew on me,” Priya answers, shrugging slightly in her honesty. “Are you… not?”

dimitri listened to him quietly, staring off at the crowds of people that were laughing, dancing, hanging out around them. one of his hands settled into the pocket of his slacks, the other holding his drink, which he took a sip out of. “while i would disagree,” he started, smiling at the other gently. “i support your decision. and i am glad that you’re safe now.” he nodded his head once. “i’m sure she’ll be eager to get a tan,” he teased. “if she doesn’t burn before that.” 

      BASH SMILES BACK AT HIS FRIEND, suddenly feeling ten pounds lighter without all that information weighing on his shoulders.   “ thank you. and i really couldn’t have done any of this without you, so thank you. and thank your dad. unless he didn’t do anything, ”   he adds, covering all his bases.   “ we’ll get you both some sunscreen, if you visit, ”   he laughs, because he’s sure dimitri doesn’t exactly tan either.   “ are you two moving in together ? ”

That’s only one of the many reasons Wilder figures he’s better off not being a spy, he doesn’t think he has the emotional bandwidth to handle being dejected so consistently. He’s not even thinking about how the medical field will be stressful for Bash, because at the very least it’ll be safer. For him, obviously not for the patients. Well, hopefully for the patients too. “I’ve actually never seen it.” He snorts a suppressed laugh as he admits it, “Just kept waiting to see it in class and then never did it on my own.” He absolutely got a syllabus for this class and knew it was never going to be shown, but sue him, Wilder’s always been hopeful. He’s so excited about trying to explain D&D he doesn’t take into account if he’s speaking too fast, but Bash is smiling so he figures it’s safe to assume he’s interested. “Yeah. It’s like a board game.” And when Wilder tells people he’s a gamer, he’s talking about Settlers of Catan. “It’s fantasy. You kinda get to make your own character, and pick an alignment for them and stuff.” He pauses before adding boastfully, “I’m neutral good.” Wilder sounds like an absolute nerd right now but he’s comfortable around Bash and also not accustomed to feeling embarrassment, or shame. This translates into the way he turns to Bash and laughs a little at the stranger, because his feelings aren’t hurt. 

Turning, Wilder’s palm rests on Bash’s elbow as he looks back a second time to see if he can spot the culprit. “It’s whatever. I knew the risk when I chose this life.” His squints playfully, the life in question being his cherub costume. Wilder usually thinks the best part of toasting is the way the glasses clash together, but hearing Bash repeat his mom’s name takes the cake, and the warmth in his chest delays his drinking a few beats. He peers as if he can see what the outside of the Ballroom looks like right now. He can’t. “Probably for the best we do.” He pushes his weight off the bar before clapping his hands and edging back, forgot his drink. Takes a second to order another one, but he forgot the name so he just points to his cup and smiles at the bartender. “One for the road.” He says, carrying them both out as they exit. “Yeah, okay, maybe I will. Don’t see why we can’t do both.” He shrugs, and makes a mental note to ask Marifer about it whenever he catches her next. “Deal.” He nods in agreement, eyes thinning with tenderness, a light gloss over them as he considers this isn’t the first deal they’ve made in the past few weeks and he’s determined to keep up his end of their bargains. He takes a short lead to a ledge outside the doors, admiring the way summer’s on spring’s tail and the air is warm and the ballroom is surrounded in greenery. Makes it easy to forget all that’s happened on these grounds. Looking back before taking a seat, and then turning to sit sideways so his wings span the bench, he nods. “I think you’d like where I grew up. I think they’re really similar.” There had always been something peaceful about it that was lost to the city life when his family moved; he’d like to return to a place just as private. 

“ WE SHOULD WATCH IT, ”   bash offers, a knee-jerk reaction. but as soon as the words escape him, he realizes they probably don’t have time to watch it before they leave gallagher, so it was stupid to even bring it up. he won’t take it back though, because that’s just even more depressing ;   instead he’ll just take a long sip of his drink, until he’s no longer thinking about the invitation he left lingering in the air.   “ oh. ”   a board game. that changes things a little. if anything, it makes him more interested.   “ a board game where you make your own character ?   that’s pretty cool. what does the alignment do ? ”   at first bash isn’t sure if wilder means if that’s him or just his character, but after thinking about it for a minute, bash concludes that’s probably what wilder himself is. it sounds right.   “ what would i be ? ”   he knows that an alignment chart is, but doesn’t have the self-awareness to pick what he is. probably wouldn’t think he’s any kind of good. 

he feels warm where wilder touches him, which is stupid, because bash didn’t even think elbows could feel that much until right now. the other boy squinting to look for whoever had knocked into him makes bash smirk a little, because if he didn’t know wilder very well he’d think he was looking to start a fight -- and there’s nothing funnier than the idea of someone dressed as a cherub starting a fight. but to be fair, the idea of wilder picking a fight with anyone is pretty laughable. he clearly hasn’t seen wilder and rafa together. bash gets a water while wilder orders a second drink, careful not to spill either of them as he weaves through the crowd to get outside.   “ well, you’re always welcome, ”   he tells him.   “ and you two could stay the night, if you want. ”   there’s enough rooms in the ranch for them to be comfortable -- and when bash returns home, they’ll be one emptier room than last time. bash lets wilder lead them outside towards a ledge, taking a seat beside him  ( also sideways ) ,  lips twitching into a smile at the sight of wilder’s wings taking up half the bench.  he almost asks him if he’d prefer taking them off if they’re really in the way, but bash likes watching him with the wings. placing the glass of water between them on the bench, he takes a sip of his other drink. for most people fresh air can be sobering, but he feels more intoxicated just being out here, away from the sea of bodies that have always made a little harder to breathe. with wilder, it’s always been easy, and bash takes a deep breath of it.   “ yeah ? ”   he smiles, leaning his arm against the back of the bench, letting his head rest in the palm of his hand.   “ what was it like ? ”

“Exactly, sounds kinda the same.” Bash validating his incorrect confusion and them having such a casual debate about the seven deadly sins is the exact vibe of the night. “So spies really shouldn’t be angry, but it’s like, kinda hard. Which is maybe why I’m good to go, yeah? I don’t like being angry.” Wilder’s not even a real spy and this year alone has made him so angry. “Something in high school. I think it was a mythology class, or something. I thought we were gonna watch Hercules.” They didn’t. He’s still upset about this. “What’s D&D?” Wilder repeats his question, but not in a condescending way, with a glimmer of excitement like he’s about to drop one of the greatest videos of all time – sorry Beyoncé. “Dungeons & Dragons is like a storytelling game but everyone who plays like, impacts the campaign, but there’s a main dude who’s guiding it? He’s called a Dungeon Master. It sounds really complicated, but it’s not.” He squints, backtracking and tilting his head in an ‘eh’ “It kind of is. But it’s cool. You get to be someone you’re not, like roleplaying.” The meta of this. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He plays, dramatically scrunching and dropping his shoulders, and the false innocence on his face only heightens when someone bumps into his wing and he stumbles a little. “My bad, my bad.” He puts his hand up to apologize to the person in the distance, who is giving him a rather ugly glare, which Wilder finds hilarious when he turns back to Bash with mirth. 

“Okay, cool. You say that now, we’ll see in July.” Wilder bites down with a nod, feeling like he’s been smiling too much, because he was likely going to send Bash far too many photos anyway. “Yeah, you should, seriously. I wanna see where you grew up and stuff.” If it were up to him he’d drag Bash along for the whole trip, but it’s his last few months with Marifer, and he assumes Bash wants to tend to his own shit. “When I come we’ll do some special things, it’ll be fun. I dunno what yet, but I’ll probably still send you photos while I’m there.” He laughs, his hypothetical visit now absolute, already visualizing it in his head. Lots of donuts, since Bash is only a vegetarian now. “Oh, right, that makes sense.” Wilder’s brows knit as he thinks about how that mentality explains why he grew up in the middle of nowhere, and why his father’s business trips were always so far away in space and time. He wonders if his dad had ever been to Arizona. “I kinda like quiet places like that, though, it’ll be nice while you’re there.” He adds with a subtle smile; that sounds like exactly what Bash needs right now anyway. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” He teases himself, but quickly adds a “But I’ll try.” He’ll consider caution this summer at Bash’s lighthearted request, mostly because he thinks there’s few things he wouldn’t try if the other asked, and he can’t even name one off the top of his head. Wilder lifts his glass with a little too much thrill, a sprinkle of liquid drifting off the top, to which he makes a face that reads oops. “Geez, yeah, no more bootcamp.” Wilder likes that one, but he lets his gaze drop as he thinks a moment before coming back to Bash’s face. “To…uh, whatever’s next.” He says proudly, because toasting to their time at Gallagher doesn’t feel as hopeful, doesn’t hold any promises. “Arizona. Med school. Seeing Pearl soon. Sending photos. Figuring things out, you know. Whatever, all of it.” 

“ YEAH, IT IS HARD. especially when you see so many bad things in your career. it’s hard not to be a little dejected. ”   part of him doesn’t think he’s strong enough for those days in the spy world, because he could barely handle the bad days in his own life. but bash knows that there’s bad days in any career, especially in the medical world, so that’ll have to be something he gets used to. it still doesn’t make it easy.   “ aw, that sucks. i love hercues. ”    who doesn’t ?   bash can tell he’s asked something that’s about to start wilder on a tangent from the way he repeats his question back at him, a smile already forming on his lips before he’s yet to start. he tries to follow along, the wheels clearly turning behind his eyes, but bash is assuming it’s some kind of video game. he never played much of those growing up.   “ so you play with other people ? ”    he asks, squinting a little.   “ it sounds like fun. ”   bash thinks he’d probably be very bad at it, but he’ll take wilder’s word that it’s cool. lips have to press together to keep from laughing when someone bumps into wilder, though the dirty look he receives immediately coaxes the chuckle out of him anyway.   “ that was rude, ”   he comments  ( quietly, because he’s not looking to start a fight with a stranger ) ,  shaking his head.   “ do you want to go outside ?   stretch your wings out. ”   because the ballroom feels much too crowded to have wings without bumping into other people.

 bash is already shaking his head, refusing to listen. as if he’ll ever get sick of hearing from him.   “ well you’re welcome to stop by if it’s on the way, but i will say the grand canyon is probably more interesting. but i’ll definitely give you a tour. ”   a virtual tour, which isn’t nearly as fun, but it’s better than nothing. it’s nice hear wilder talking about visiting him as if it’s a sure thing already, and while bash knows he shouldn’t take his words at face value right now -- there is another person going on the trip with him, after all -- he’ll let himself believe that there is more time with wilder in the near future. bash has no idea what special things could be, but he'll be happy for even a shred of his time.   “ alright, deal, ”   he smiles at him, eyes crinkling a little in the corners. so far the rest of the party had been bittersweet, saying goodbye to friends and sharing that he won’t be returning next year, so he’s thankful for the smile that hasn’t left his face the entire time he’s talked to wilder.   “ yeah, i always liked it. it’s very peaceful. ”   their ranch always made bash feel like him and his family were the only people in the world, which with all the traveling they tended to do, was always a freeing feeling. he figured wilder would like the no more bootcamp, letting out a laugh.   “ to whatever’s next. ”   there’s only a small pang in his chest, that bittersweet feeling returning, before they clink their glasses together.   “ to pearl. ”   easily the most important thing wilder had mentioned.

“You sure it’s not greed?” It’s definitely gluttony, but Wilder thinks that word is way too funny sounding to be a sin. He shrugs, he got his point across. “I guess, yeah, but angry spies sound like the first step in a really bad walk through a blizzard.” Half the reason things seem to go bad in the spy world is because someone is angry, he thinks pride is also the best option, even if it’s considered one of the worst of the sins. “I dunno now that I’m like, thinking about it. I took a class once that said some crazy shit about Cupid. But I…well I probably should’ve paid more attention.” He laughs at admitting it. “But I can’t imagine they’re evil, or anything. Maybe just like, neutral…good? Like in D&D.” He squints, not even following his own thoughts, and the conversation seems deep but he likes that he doesn’t feel all that pressured to make too much sense. And Wilder gets a little dumber with every sip of alcohol he takes. He just laughs with a twitch of his brow, not knowing what Bash means by that since he doesn’t know he blacked out last time he drank, but he figures it’s a common consideration. “Alright, yeah, me neither.” Wilder is absolutely a light weight and a fool so Bash doesn’t have to worry about keeping up, if not for Wilder getting too excited and drinking a little too fast. Makes him burp. He’ll try his best to refrain. “Got your back either way.” He says with a casual sweetness, like if Bash wanted to let loose he’d have someone getting him water. “Ohhh, ah. Okay, okay.” Wilder reacts with a slow nod to Bash’s empty cup, but the amusement on his face makes it impossible to even feign hurt, obviously not at all offended. He thinks it’s cute. “For the record, feel free to drink my drink at any time. I’ll even close my eyes if you want privacy.” He jokes, hands barely lifting off the bar in a lazy surrender. “Oh, that sounds really familiar, I might know them.” He nods, eyes rising to create an image in his head that looks nothing like Satomi. Wilder’s never really not liked people till Gallagher. Wilder doesn’t like Rafa. He’s not super fond of Julian, for obvious reasons. And he also wouldn’t say hi if he passed Cecilia, for other obvious reasons. “Yeah, always does.” He shrugs before turning his attention too, he believes all his best friends are pretty. “Okay, yeah. Yeah, I’ll send you photos of everything. I’ll try not to get too annoying.” He jokes, beaming at Bash’s interest in his trip, and wishing he could be there for other parts of it, but will settle for any time they spend in Arizona. “For a reason?” Wilder doesn’t get it. “I will, definitely. And dude I love hiking. I think we’re gonna hit up some parks and trails, look for some good trees to climb.” He smiles and nods at the bartender when they get their drinks, and doesn’t hesitate to sip it before gasping and looking fast at Bash like he’s goofed. “Oh, should we toast? Pretend I didn’t have any.”

“ AH, IT COULD BE, ”   he says, even though bash is pretty sure it’s gluttony.   “ like, if you’re greedy for more food. ”   sometimes watching them talk is like watching them pass around one working brain cell for them to share. he’s a little too drunk to completely understand the blizzard metaphor, but bash gets the gist of it, nodding in agreement.   “ yeah, like you said, it’s about the intention. and it’s hard to have good intent if you’re just... angry. ”   he’s seen that anger in his sisters too, especially spencer, which is why he’ll worry about them when it’s time for them to get back into the field. bash can understand that it’s easy to be angry though, when so much good is taken away from you. he’s just tired of being angry.   “ what class was that ? ”   he chuckles, because whatever it was, it’s not something he had been taught through homeschooling.   “ what’s D&D ? ”   conversation flows so easily with wilder that bash isn’t even worrying if that’s a dumb question. wilder offering to look out for him makes him smile, feeling surprisingly light at his words.   “ thanks. and same, ”   he adds, but now bash will try even harder not to drink too much, because he doesn’t want their last night together to be spent with wilder having to hold his hair back. that had been embarrassing enough on new year’s eve with hazel.   

“ hey, ”   bash laughs, making a face at the other.   “ you’re making me look bad for not wanting to share now. ”   he’s joking, of course, and really there’s no way bash wouldn’t be open to sharing with wilder, including his last few memories of gallagher. it’d certainly be one way to make sure his memories of the school are good ones, when so much has happened that could make it feel otherwise. bash thinks he’ll remember gallagher positively either way, though. hopefully wilder feels the same -- about him and the school. cute of wilder to not like cecilia, he’s valid.   “ no, don’t worry about being annoying, i want to see all of it, ”   he assures him.   “ i’d send you pictures too, but i don’t think i’ll be doing anything special. i can send you some pictures of the house, ”   he offers, although he’ll have to make sure it’s clean and presentable before he does that. otherwise wilder will never come visit.   “ yeah, y’know, to lay low. sometimes my parents’ jobs got dangerous, obviously, and they didn’t want to be anywhere they could be traced. ”   the belikovs had a few other houses around the country, but arizona will always be home base for them, the closest thing he has to a real home.   “ i do too, ”   bash says, as if it’s surprising to have anything more in common with wilder at this point.   “ that’ll be fun. don’t... i don’t know, fall out of a tree and break your arm. ”   somehow he could see that happening. he doesn’t have the reflexes fast enough to take the drink and sip it before wilder offers a toast, which probably goes to show bash shouldn’t be having another drink. but wilder could offer him a vial of poison  ( or worse, a hamburger )  and bash would probably take it anyway.   “ yeah, let’s toast, ”   he smiles, raising his glass.   “ to... going home ? ”   no, that doesn’t sound right.   “ to never having to go through bootcamp again ? ”   he laughs sheepishly.    “ i’m bad at this, you go. ”

“That’s me!” she turns to the voice calling her name, eyes lighting up as much as they can in her tipsy state as a wide smile spreads across her face, recognizing the boy before her. “Mary’s friend!” Priya answers at the same time that he says it, because of course she knows who he is. “Bash,” she says confidently, good at remembering the names she wants to. She knows he’s got another name, too, but upon just meeting, she thinks it’s best that he gives her the permission to call him by it first. “Nice to meet you, man, you want a drink?”

                and she doesn’t know if its her favorite people leaving, the prospect of a potentially exciting summer, or just a delayed reaction from everything that’s happened in their semester but elisa could not keep herself together anymore. she found herself lightly swatting bash’s hand away and went straight in for a tight hug, abandoning her items behind. “no, i’m gonna miss you. like..like a lot.” she mutters against his shirt.

“Right sure,” he drawled back. Mandy herself hadn’t actually been the one to tell him. He had seen the joint in her dorm and by some asking around, had found out who had been supplying on campus. It was a far cry from the Bash he had known last year but at the same time his friend did seem more…relaxed. “A little weird but it’s good to see everyone.”

      “ WEIRD IN A GOOD WAY, THEN ? ”   he smiles slightly. as long as it’s good, bash will take it. glancing down at his drink for a moment, it takes bash a few seconds to work up the courage to speak again.   “ i’m not coming back to gallagher next year, actually, ”   he finally admits, glancing back up at his friend.   “ so if you’re ever in arizona, look me up. ”

          ❛  oh  my  god,  i  would  love  to  go !  do  you  need  help  with  setting  everything  up ?  i  can  definitely  come  give  you  guys  a  hand.  ❜   she  tries  her  best  to  keep  the  smile  beaming  on  her  face,  because  tonight  is  meant  to  be  the  last  party  after  a  hell  year.  they  should  be  laughing,  having  fun.  yet  she  can’t  stop  thinking  about  how  hard  his  absence  is  going  to  be  next  year,  hearing  him  speak  of  arizona  only  makes  it  so  much  more  evident.   ❛  i’ll  try  to  come  see  you  any  chance  i  can,  you  know  that,  right ?  ❜   this  time,  it’s  spoken  a  little  more  softly,  wants  him  to  know  that  no  matter  the  distance  and  no  matter  how  long  it  takes,  she’ll  find  her  way  back  to  him,  always.