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The thing about falling in love with your best friend, Reggie thinks- is that it builds up. Slowly- so slowly he didn’t realize until it was too late to do anything but watch it grow. And he hates himself for it, he really does.
He and Luke met in first grade, and maybe even then some part of him knew that he’d be following Luke for the rest of his life, because they’d become thick as thieves. They grew up chasing each other around the arcade near their homes, playing pacman and tetris and all the dancing games they could possibly find. Luke liked to spontaneously burst into song during those.
And then in middle school they had met Alex, and two became three, easily sliding into place.
That’s when his parents had started fighting loud enough the neighbors could hear. What Reggie remembers most from those days is the ocean. Big and loud enough to drown out any thought and so powerful that you’d be swept away without a second thought. Reggie spent a lot of time at the beach, making it his secret hideout; his second home.
In highschool, they formed a band, because that’s what you do when you’re teen boys and unsure of your place in the world. His bedroom became Luke’s girage; sprinkled with dirty takeout containers and a hideously stained couch. But when they began to play, none of that mattered. When they played everything faded away, leaving only the music. It poured out of them- recklessly, pounding, all consuming, until Reggie couldn’t tell what was him and what was music.
What surprised Reggie then (and still sometimes did), is that they were a good band. Sunset curve, while not instantly successful (with some elbow grease and hard work) started to pick up attention. . They found Bobby, who Reggie wasn’t sold on, but he was good enough at guitar and only sometimes a dick. And slowly, gradually, Sunset Curve began to grow. And get fans- people - okay, mostly girls- who came to their shows and screamed and bought merch and some nights when they were on stage, Reggie felt big enough to take on the world.
At least until they step outside and the world comes rushing back in. The first time he hears of the deaths is when Billy brings it up with a laugh, mentioning the gay cancer. He feels like vomiting then, and by the look of him, so does Alex. Headlines scream of the disease killing the gays, the dirty homosexuals who deserve it. Whispers of it fill the air, infiltrating his school.
It’s just more proof that whatever he feels for Luke is some sort of misplaced admiration.
And if some nights he reaches beneath his bed for tthe newspapers he’s hidden, and runs his fingers over the faces of the homosexuals laying out on the streets of New York, San Francisco, in front of the White House- well, no one sees that.
No matter how much he tries to repress the unnatural urges/ he feels for Luke, It is a sickening kind of torture to watch the girls swarm him after the band preforms. And how can he blame them? Luke is- Luke is so much. Luke is beautiful and warm and inviting and kind- he has an aura like the sun. Reggie wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up one day and found the world to be orbiting Luke. Honestly, Reggie would probably be thankful for an excuse for all his staring.
But Luke is his best friend. Always. Through his parents fights, with screaming you hear from down the block and broken plates and shattered homes- Luke and the band is his escape.
So he doesn't say anything- how could he risk the few good things in his life? And shoves all of the mushy feelings he has about Luke's eyes and wondering how it would feel to hold his hands and locks them all away inside a little box in the corner of his mind and Does Not Think about them.
And then he dies. From fucking hot dogs.
…...
Reggie really hates the universe sometimes, because you’d think being dead for twenty-five years would allow him to get over his embarrassing….thing he sometimes has for Luke. Because it makes his palms sweaty and his hand shake and he blushes incontrobly whenever Luke compliments his singing. Reginald Peters is not supposed to be head over heels for his best friend, someone who’s very much off limits. That’s rule number three of bro code. And rule number one of band code- you never mess around with someone you’re in a band with.
So when sometimes it gets tempting; those odd moments when Luke’s smile lingers a moment too long, when his hands brush Reggie’s while they’re sharing the mike, when Reggie finds the box where Luke has saved his country music- when the possibilities expand, when he starts to hope- he thinks of the band breaking up, of Luke’s face closed off, of Alex having nowhere to go.
Reggie will not be the reason this family breaks. Not agin. He knows how to be better this time.
…..
The band is renamed. Sunset Curve becomes Julie and The Phantoms. They start practicing all together, laughing,and creating and staying up until dawn dances in through the windows on the shed.
Throughout it all, Reggie watches Luke and Julie dance around each other with jokes only they know, and secret smiles. When Julie and Luke sing together, staring into each other's eyes, something inside of him twists. Painfully.
He starts a mantra. I have no claim to Luke. I have no claim to Luke. IhavenoclaimtoLuke. Luke. Luke, Luke, Luke-
The worst part is that he can’t even manage to hate Julie. She’s dead set on bringing the band together, about making something out of the ashes of the former life they’d been pulled out of. She is strong, courageous, and deeply kind. A good friend.
He thinks, bitterly that she and Luke would be perfect together. The stars of the show, destined to shine, while he cheers on the sidelines.
He’s good at cheering. He’s upbeat and happy- that’s his role, and really- a part of his personality. He just wishes he didn’t have to fake it quite so often.
He’s a side character though, so he swallows his words and forces his mind back to the band, and his country songs. There’s potential there, he just knows it.
As much as he wants Luke to be his, he is not so selfish as to deny Luke and Julie their chance at happiness. They both deserve it. So he mentions chemistry, and Alex agrees, and then somehow, too quickly for Reggie to follow, Luke is staring into his eyes and singing about being on the edge of something great (ouch, thinks the small part of Reggie’s brain that is coherent) And then Luke is putting his fingers to Reggies lips, and all he can do is stutter something out, blushing furiously.
Luke has never been intentionally cruel- but this dance Luke does walking the line between friends and something more, while never meaning any of it, is breaking Reggie’s heart.
……
The first time he sees two men holding hands in public, he’s out walking through the city. There’s music playing, some pop singer Julie likes, and normally that would pique his interest, but right now nothing matters except the men (In love? Can they be in love?) holding hands. He stops dead in the middle of the sidewalk as the crowds of people push through him, just watching. The two men are laughing and when the taller one reaches down to brush hair out of the shorter one’s face, Reggie doesn't think he’s breathing.
So he goes back to the studio and asks Julie. It’s as awkward as it sounds, and she stares at him for a moment too long to be casual before explaining that it’s okay now. Not anything close to equal, but more accepted. He thinks maybe his eyes start to tear up when she tells him about gay marriage being legalized in 2015 but both of them pretend not to notice.
The next afternoon, Julie whirls into practice on a mission raving about practicing different styles and genres, and that’s how they end up covering everything from Hayley Kiyoko’s Curious to Troye Sivain’s Heaven. (Reggie thinks that one hits a little too close to home.)
Luke gets about halfway through Talia before he pieces things together.
“Is this… about two women? Is that cool now?” He asks, addressing the elephant in the room that Alex and Reggie have decided to ignore. Reggie looks over- Alex is studiously avoiding eye contact, while Luke is blushing slightly and mainly looking befuddled. He studiously tells the part of his brain that thinks it’s cute to shut up.
Julie has obviously decided that what she told Reggie this yesterday is due to be turned into one of the group lessons. She’s scarily prepared, whipping out a whiteboard to draw a timeline. It’d be awkward, except that she’d done the same thing when Alex asked about Star Wars. (Luke had pulled him away halfway through that talk, although he’d never explained why.)
Reggie mostly zones out until she starts talking about the different orientations. (now it’s one of those slidey-shows, with the pictures.)
When she mentions bisexulity he thinks Oh. It’s like his brain shifts three inches to the left and everything clicks into place.
When Alex, voice breaking just a little askes “And there’s nothing wrong with m- with them?” Julie responds (steady and confident and more assured than he’s ever felt about those sorts of urges) “There’s nothing wrong with us. With any of us - I promise.” He feels tears tracing down his cheeks and doesn't feel brave enough to look at anyone. Or think about anyone. Then it’s group hug time, (Mandatory, Julie says, like any of them would try to get out of it) and he’s certain he’s not the only one sniffling.
..….
Reggie’s mother used to make him pray each night before bed. He remembers kneeling and reciting the bit about shepherds and protection of his soul, and fervently hoping he’d make out of that home- make it to a new life.
Being here feels like one of those miracles his pastor used to rant about. He’s got Alex and Luke and Julie of course, but also Ray (Who doesn't know he exists, but semantics), and Julie’s kid brother. And he gets to make music, spinning stories of long forgotten country roads. He is home here. Not quite solid, not quite alive- but nonetheless, he feels more at peace than he ever has before. He’s thankful for what he has, the solid, steadiness of his life. Not that it’s anything near calm, not with evil ghosts hell-bent on wrecking their lives. But he trusts his friends. They have his back. Reggie doesn't need - or want anything more. At least, that’s what he tells himself.
Alex thinks Reggie is jealous. He is of course- but not in the way Alex thinks.He fantasizes about Luke watching him the same way he watches Jules. Only in his darkest moments does he consider pushing Julie out of the way and just kissing Luke. Putting it all on the table.
Reggie lets himself call it love when Caleb ensnared them all for his Orchestra. He has them trapped- no way to get out, no way to call for Julie- nothing and nobody left to rely on. All Reggie can think about is Luke. And then he’s pleading, he can’t stop begging- he’ll do anything- anythinganything- if you’d just please let him go- let Luke go
They become solid again and Reggie doesn't know what to do with himself. (Both literally and figuratively, he keeps tripping up stairs.)
The piece of his heart that loves Luke keeps growing. It’s quiet now, more resigned. Reggie thinks that perhaps he’ll love Luke forever. It’s too much a part of him to simply fade away. It hasn’t been light in ages- no, this is a weight he carries. He doesn't know what will come next, but he has his family. And Luke loves him, even if it’s not in the right way. They all do.
He throws himself into flirting with girls. It’s nice, a distraction. They are wholly the opposite of Luke- soft bodies, simpering glances, quiet voices. Sometimes he swears he can feel Luke’s gaze, heavy on the back of his head as he teases the fans before the show. Alex tells him that Luke is worried, doesn't want to see Reggie’s heart broken- none of them do. He almost laughs at that- he doesn't have control over his heart, hasn’t been for a while.
It’s Julie who finally puts the pieces together. Out of the band, she and Alex have always been the best at that introperspective shit (Thanks Ray’s mandatory SAT prep-cards) and the ability to scrutinize the rest of them. It’s the last Sunday in September, the weather is getting colder but the sun is still bright enough to ward off the chill. Luke hasn't spoken to him since he went on that...outing with Julie last afternoon. Reggie is sure he knows. He doesn't want to think about it, about the dread pooling in his stomach- and the relief that flited through him this morning.
Later, he’ll admit that he was tired of hiding it. Much later.
Julie has dragged him out for coffee on the pier and her quote unquote “special announcement”. She’s always been one with a flair for dramatics.
“You know,” she says, “Luke took me on a date the other day.” Reggie flinches involuntarily, and fixes a hasty smile on his face. She hums to herself. “That’s what I thought....The- Reggie, listen. We went out to the arcade and all he could talk about was you. How this was your favorite game, back in elementary school. How you two played the dance one for hours. How he was worried about you.” Reggie doesn't think he’s breathing. “So I told him I didn’t think he really liked me- I told him he likes you.” Reggie’s mouth is open. He’s staring at Julie, definitely not breathing.. And maybe, maybe this is how his carefully constructed world breaks. He’s trembling, shaking, his knees are unsteady. the world he has, the one he’s balanced, with lines and rules and boxes he doesn't cross is splineting open.
He ends up kneeling on the broken boards of the pier, splinters digging through his jeans, while Julie rubs his back. Telling him that it’s okay. She’s here. Everything will be alright.
So for the first time in thirty some years, Reginald Peters allows himself to dream.
……
Reggie doesn't think his brain has been working quite right after the day on the pier. He didn’t go home that evening- instead he stayed out by the ocean, watching the waves break against the shore.
And all through the next week he avoided everyone. It hasn’t been his proudest moment, but he’s still a teen and entitled to some form of teenage angst and rebellion.
Luke finds him (of course he does) watching the sun begin to set on the Santa Monica pier. Not on the main pathway, but the secret back one only the longtime locals know about, away from the crowds of people. There’s a craggy cliff that sits over the space, and Reggie sits on the sand, skipping rocks into the ocean. He used to come here to get away from his house- really, his parents. Luke crouches down by Reggie, and Reggie knows he can’t hide from this conversion anymore.
“I didn’t know that you knew about this place.”
Luke coughs in response, and when Reggie steals a glance his way, Luke appears to be blushing. Maybe it’s the sunset.
“I...uhm.” No, Luke is definitely blushing. “When you used to disappear, it freaked me out. I followed you one time- just to make sure you were okay.” The last part is muffled, Luke is speaking to his hands. “And then, when it happened the next time and the time after that- and well, you get the idea- I used to sit up there,” he points to the top of the cliff and Reggie is frozen in place, not quite believing this is happening “and just make sure that you’d come back to me.”
“I thought that you and Julie were…”
Luke laughs, and then begins to speak, still sounding unsure of himself- and afraid, Reggie realizes, afraid of however Reggie will respond.
“As she had the pleasure of telling me, I was chasing the wrong person. She’s wonderful- but Reggie, I think I’ve loved you for ages.” Luke's face is in his hands, ears a brilliant shade of ruby. Reggie is frozen with shock “And I was dumb enough to not relize it but god, Reggie- I think about you all the time. It was all I could talk about with Julie- how brilliant you were, how much you care about all of us.” Luke laughs again, desperately. “I don’t want to go another moment without you by my side. I never feel more alive than when I’m with you. I don’t know how many songs I’ve written about scruffy black hair and crooked teeth that I’ve tried to convince myself were about someone else. And I want you to know that I’d make a whole country album for you. Hell, I’d buy one of those stupid cowboy hats the and suspenders- and Reggie, the point is-” Luke trails off hands waving, and for a moment there is no sound other than the waves. Reggie is desperately trying to form a coherent sentence but all he can do is gape at Luke. “The point is, I’d gladly spend the rest of my life following you.”
Luke looks absolutely terrified and as though he is (strongly) considering fleeing. Reggie is finding that, to much avail, he still has not retained the power of speech.
“Jesus Reggie, say something. If it’s too much-” Luke inhales, voice shaky “I just- I wouldn’t have told you all at once, but I thought you were leaving- and I couldn’t bear that Reggie. Not ever.” He’s crying now- Reggie can see the tears trailing down his cheeks, and feel the echos on his own.
“Luke- Luke,” he says, and it feels like the first breath of fresh hair after a storm, it feels like everything he’s ever dreamed of, feels like jumping and finding you can fly.
“Come home to me, Reggie.” Luke says, eyes locked with his, refusing to let Reggie fade into the background. The last rays of the setting sun make his blue eyes dance and Reggie feels so full of possibility that he’s leaning forward, his yes lost on Luke’s lips.
He is home. Has been for a while, even if he didn’t recognize it at first.
He understands now.