Chapter Text
Reagan gnawed on the inside of her cheek. Staedtler was going to be here any minute now. She just had to keep it together a little while longer. She needed to prove to Ron that there was space in her life for him. By any means necessary.
Reagan may or may not have done some digging to find out Ron’s favorite restaurants in the area. Could she have just asked him? Maybe. But then there was a chance he would be suspicious of that, so really, this was the only way.
And now, she was at a goddamn Fuddruckers, the sound of kids slamming their greasy bodies against the arcade machines and adults smacking their sticky hands against the touch-screen drink machines making her head pound.
The things she does for love. Sure, she went to literal hell and back for this man. But maybe Fuddruckers was too far.
She had her phone in her lap under the table. It buzzed, and she jumped, trying to ignore the cold sweat on her back. Maybe it was Ron saying he couldn’t come so she could go back home and drown her anxiety with whiskey and Valium. She glanced down at the screen, daring to feel a glimmer of hope.
Brett: you can do this!
Brett: worst case scenario he says no and we can forget this ever happened
Brett: you can erase my memory of it if it’ll make u feel better, just like we talked about!
…This was a terrible idea. This was a terrible idea and she needed to leave now before things got worse. She could always fake her death again!
Ron sat down in the booth across from her. Fuck, she hadn’t even noticed him walk in the door. She turned her phone off and shoved it in her purse.
“Hey, Reagan,” he sighed, only smiling once she looked up at him. Her chest felt tight. She swallowed nervously, mouth dry.
“ Heyyyyyy, Ron ,” She tapped her fingers against the table quickly, trying to push down the anxiety in her stomach.
“God, this place is good. I love the fries. I haven’t gotten to eat here since I was in college.”
“Mhmm,” Reagan nodded. She shifted her position in the booth, crossing and uncrossing her legs, trying to get comfortable and failing. The seat squeaked underneath her. “I’ve never been here before. Usually stick to fast food when I want a burger.”
“Oh. But— you invited me to a restaurant you’ve never been to? That doesn’t seem like you,” Ron frowned. Reagan began to sweat.
“Well. It’s because… you mentioned it once! While you were sleep talking. Yes.”
Ron squinted. Oh, god, he’s gonna know something’s up and he’s going to fake his death to avoid talking to her. He–
“Oh, we should split a milkshake like they do in the movies! Unless— wait, is that corny? Or is it, like, cute if we do it ironically?” Ron looked back at her.
“I think it’s cute in a post-ironic kind of way?” Reagan scrunched her nose up and shoved a fistful of unmarked bills into Ron’s hands. “Here’s $50— go up to the counter and get us a milkshake with two straws!”
Ron scrambled to grab the bills as one or two fluttered to the floor. “ Aah– alright, alright!”
He scampered off towards the counter and Reagan’s head swivled like a turrent until he was far enough away that she was out of his immediate sight. She pulled out her phone, hands shaking.
Reagan: HOW DO YOU START A CONVERSATION LIKE THIS.
Reagan: SOS.
Brett: did you install an alert system into my phone that goes off when you send SOS????
Reagan: You’re changing the subject.
Brett: i always text you back right away thats why you have a custom ringtone in my phone
Reagan: BRETT.
Brett: right sorry
Brett: idk you can start by asking if he’s bi? If he isnt we can just stop there cuz i dont think hed be into it otherwise
Reagan: can i just ask him that???
Brett: uhhh u can come out to him first if u havent? Idk i dont usually come out to people they just start making out with me without asking
Reagan: thats an issue for another time but we will circle back to that. Not ok
She put her phone back in her pocket right as Ron sat back down, groaning as he did.
“Yeah, turns out their ice cream machine is broken.”
“I’m bisexual,” Reagan stated, forcing herself to look him in the eyes.
“Uh,” Ron glanced away for a moment, cheeks going pink. “O…kay? I’m— I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me. Are you feeling okay? Is it because they didn’t have milkshakes?”
“Me? Yes! I’m totally fine. Are you?”
“I’m… doing alright.” Ron fidgeted in his seat.
“Oh, no, I meant are you bisexual.”
He suddenly found himself unable to meet her eyes, tugging nervously at his sleeves, feeling too exposed. “That’s… certainly a question. I don’t—”
“It’s totally cool if you are! I figured, y’know, it’d be another thing we have in common! We have so much in common,” she laughed, looking like if she didn’t, she might start crying.
Ron looked around the restaurant nervously before leaning in close. “Are you sure you’re okay? Like… you’re not being held hostage or anything, right? This isn’t a cry for help?”
She laughed again, even shakier this time. “No, I’m fiiiiiine , really, totally fine!”
Ron huffed softly. The fact that he didn’t fully believe her was clear on his face.
“Okay. If… if you’re sure. And there’s nothing you wanted to talk about…?”
God. He was giving her that look. Like he knew there was something in the back of her throat that she was dancing around for some stupid fucking reason. The room started spinning, and—
“What can I get you two to eat today?”
Oh, fuck, maybe there is a god out there somewhere.
They ordered, Reagan just mumbling that she wanted the same thing as Ron. The waitress left, and silence filled in the gaps from there.
Every time she looked up, he was staring at her, waiting. She felt more watched now than she did in rooms full of hidden cameras. She felt like she was being dissected.
“...So, Brett had this… idea.”
“And there it is. It’s a Brett idea.”
She sighed. “Listen, I just want you two to get along, okay? You’re both so fucking important to me. I’m sorry I’m being weird about it, it’s just—”
“I get it, I get it. Brett has some crazy idea to make me suddenly stop caring about the way we’re totally incompatible as people and magically make us become best friends. I’ve literally seen the weirdest shit the world has to offer, Reagan. I think I can handle whatever—”
“Have you ever thought about trying a three way?”
Ron went totally quiet. It was like something came disconnected behind his eyes for a second. He blinked, shaking his head as if clearing an etch-a-sketch.
“...Okaaaaay, I’ve totally lost the plot. What?”
“Like,” she flapped her hands as she talked, alternating between that and cracking her knuckles. “It’s the— god, hang on, Brett made a pitch about it that sounded like it actually made sense at the time.”
She pulled her phone out, hunching up her shoulders as she rapidly scrolled through her texts with Brett. He had sent her a few more messages since then, which she ignored. She was on a mission right now.
“Ah— here it is. Something something vulnerability brings people closer, something something, guy friends do stuff like this all the time…? Uh… Fuck, this is a bunch of corny, mushy Brett bullshit, isn’t it? I may have been a little tipsy when I had this conversation with him. Yeesh . This was a dumb idea, I’m just gonna—”
Ron grabbed her hands as she tried to stand up, eyes wide and weirdly earnest.
“No,” his voice was high. “No, it’s… I just hadn’t thought about it before?”
She hesitantly sat down again, looking at him like she might bolt again any second. He was blushing a lot, the pink tint going all the way out to his ears. Maybe he was just shy about this?
She took a deep breath. Held it. And released.
She trusted Ron. She didn’t need to be afraid like this.
“Okay. And…?”
He pressed his lips together, eyes darting around like he was looking for something. His words came out like he was choking on air. “I… I don’t know. I don’t even know if I like… boys. Wasn’t sure I liked anyone until…”
He squeezed her hands, a lifeline. She could feel his pulse picking up beneath her thumbs. Maybe Brett was onto something with this whole vulnerability shit. This was kind of a turn-on.
“Hey,” she slid her hands further up his arms, thumbs rubbing small circles into his wrists, just under the cuffs of his sleeves. “Thank you for trusting me enough to talk about this with me. I think it could be a fun thing to try, even if it’s just to learn more about you and what you like, right?”
She could see the way his pupils dilated and his jaw went a little slack. “I, uh… yeah. Yeah. Maybe. I dunno, it’s all a little…”
“Hard?” She raised her eyebrows and glanced downward. Ron laughed, pushing her face away from him.
“Reagan! We’re in public —”
“I knooooow, but it’s so fun to mess with you!”
She pressed a kiss to his palm, grinning at him from between his fingers as they pressed against her cheeks.
After a moment, he seemed to withdraw a little, both metaphorically and literally.
“You… know about how I was raised.”
“Yeah, catholic? We fucked in the— in the confession booth thing. Is there a word for it?”
“It’s just called a confessional,” he nodded. “But. Yeah. I— I’m not, like, homophobic or anything, I just… never let myself…”
He bit his bottom lip.
“Damn,” she leaned forward. “You’re repressed as shit . That’s so sad. I always forget that people can be like that— I’m so used to seeing Andre stick his dick into anything that has a vaguely dick shaped hole in it.”
“Gross,” Ron gave a thumbs up. “But… I guess I’m a little repressed. So…”
“So?” Reagan tilted her head towards him.
He gave her a half-smile. “ So… if we’re gonna do this, I’ll probably be… A little stressed about it. But if it’ll make you happy, I guess I could… try it.”
“And if it doesn’t work out, I’ll personally erase Brett’s memories of the entire event. I made him sign a contract and everything,” she pulled the thick stack of paper out of her purse, showing off Brett’s signature on every page.
“ Wow ,” he remarked as he skimmed through it. “This is…”
“I’m very thorough.” She steepled her fingertips together, leaning back in the booth. “The short version of it is that if you decide there’s any good reason to do it, I’ll pull the trigger and we can never talk about it again. Easy!”
He took a deep breath in. “I… appreciate that you’re not… making me be the one who has to… do the dirty work. It really does mean a lot to me.”
“I figured it’d be easier on you. I want this to be easy for you! No downsides!”
She gestured vaguely. He nodded, slowly at first, then resolutely.
“...Alright. Okay. But… I’m allowed to change my mind at any point.”
“Of course !” she squeezed his hands again. “Even if you’re, like, inside me, you can just leave. I won’t be upset at all.”
“Gross,” he rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smile. “I’m not gonna do that. I can be brave and open minded, believe it or not.”
Reagan got her phone out, getting ready to text Brett. It was only just now that she remembered he had texted her earlier.
Brett: im kind of nervous about it but only because ur my best friend and even though i know u wouldnt im worried ill somehow be so bad at this that you wouldnt want to hang out with me anymore. I know it’s dumb but im still worried abt it.
Brett: would u still be my friend if i was so bad at having a threesome that ur boyfriend dumped you over it
Brett: nevermind dont answer that
Brett: actually please do answer i’m getting scared again
This was followed with a gif of a baby cat tripping all over itself and knocking over a bowl of milk. She rolled her eyes.
Reagan: you wont fuck so bad my boyfriend dumps me as long as u dont bring the puppets
Reagan: he said yes tho
Reagan: just be nice to him he’s never been with a guy before ok
Brett: oh okay!!!!!!!!!! Im free tonight if u wanna just rip the bandaid off
Reagan: he says that works
Reagan: i’ll book a hotel and send you the address in a second. I’m getting you dinner too.
Brett: wine and dining me lol classy
Brett: just kidding i dont like wine u dont need to bring wine for me
Brett: also i wouldnt bring the puppets to a sex event
Brett: theyre really hard to clean ):