Chapter Text
Winning had been guaranteed.
Even with Seiji on their team, a solid captain—by high school standards—and the raw potential sparking in their so-called secret weapon, Kings Row couldn’t threaten Exton. Not really. Maybe next year Jesse would consider worrying about them, but this year he’d only taken them as a threat the way he did any school. Underestimating opponents was a good way to lose, but only Halverton really warranted worrying over. Of course, Jesse had expected Kings Row to get weeded out before the champion match, but that was what you got for underestimating Seiji.
Jesse had expected beating them to be more…decisive. But as Jesse scored the final point on their reserve, nothing felt clear or clean-cut.
And then he saw it. A flash of his emotions on a vaguely familiar face. Where had he seen it before? It was out of his sight before he could even make out the features past the emotion they held. Routinely, he saluted his opponent, then his ref.
“Thank you for the match,” he offered, same as always, to the boy he met in the middle of the piste. The reserve.
The reserve.
“Didn’t Kings Row have a second reserve?” Jesse asked, cutting off the boy’s returned pleasantries and turning the firm handshake to a vice.
“What? Oh—yeah, we did,” the boy said, antsy and uncomfortable.
“What happened to him?” Jesse pressed. The round features, the ears that stuck out just a bit too much, the messy hair. Jesse hadn’t recognized that face without the smile he’d always seen on it before when crossing paths with his school. “Was he injured or something?”
“What? No—why do you care?” It sounded almost defensive. Before Jesse could ask more, the hand in his was jerked away.
“You put them in their place fast,” Coach Donati said, pleased, as Jesse returned to his team. “Very good, boys. I’m not surprised.” She paused, then gave a rare smile without any wicked edges. “But I am proud.”
“Thank you, Coach,” Jesse said, hearing his team echo the sentiment.
“It looks like we’ll be hosting again next year. Now go celebrate with your families, but come back to claim our trophy in ten.”
Jesse hardly finished unplugging his wire from his épée before he was off. Weaving through the dispersing and shifting crowd, he found the rolled-up sleeves under the navy Kings Row sweater vest and the complicated expression of the boy who wore it. The boy who should, by Jesse’s understanding, have been wearing a crisp white jacket.
Jesse reached out to grab the boy’s arm, only noticing as his hand closed over bare forearm that he had failed to take off his glove.
When he turned, the boy’s expression became so comically surprised that it actually spurred an unexpected laugh to escape Jesse.
“You’re—Jesse Coste?” He obviously knew Jesse was Jesse Coste, but he wasn’t asking about the name. He was asking what the hell is Jesse Coste doing grabbing me after beating my school?
“You’re not on Kings Row’s fencing team?” Jesse returned. He knew this boy wasn’t because he’d already been told. But that wasn’t the question he’d been asking.
Surprise was gone. There. That expression. It was what Jesse felt. There was a smile, understated and almost sad. He wanted to ask the boy what it was.
“I’m surprised you remembered me, much less recognized me. I’m Eugene. We didn’t really meet at Halverton’s camp, so. Good to meet you, Jesse.”
“Yes,” Jesse said, releasing Eugene’s arm to offer his hand in a shake instead. It was taken, even despite the glove. “It’s good to meet you, Eugene.”
“I’ve got to ask, what on earth did you want with me, coming over here?”
“I can’t stay long now,” Jesse said, glancing back to his team, reconvening already. He couldn’t stay away long. “Wait for me after the ceremony. I want to talk with you.”
Eugene raised an eyebrow. Jesse noticed how unevenly weighted they were, heavy at the innermost corners and short too. Most people wouldn’t have worn them well, but they looked playful on this boy. And it fit with the matching smile he gave Jesse.
“Should I be getting my hopes up?” he asked.
“That depends on what you’re hoping for.”
Jesse slipped away back to his team, where his dad was already waiting. Usually, Jesse beelined for him after a match, and Jesse knew his dad hadn’t missed the change in routine today. But besides a knowing smile and raised eyebrows that Jesse didn’t attempt to interpret, Dad didn’t mention it. Instead, his arms opened and his smile grew.
“That’s my boy,” Dad said, hugging Jesse fiercely. “How do you feel?”
“I don’t know,” Jesse answered honestly, earning an extra squeeze.
“You should feel proud, Jesse. I do.”
Jesse nodded into Dad’s jacket but didn’t answer. Donati was calling for them to line and freshen up for pictures as they accepted their medals.
“Find your mother and I after the awards,” Dad said, letting Jesse go.
Jesse nodded his agreement and joined his team, losing his glove and fluffing his hair.
The brief ceremony couldn’t go fast enough, and when it was over, Jesse delayed his promise to his father.
He found Eugene instead, grabbing his wrist on his newest beeline for the convention doors. They twisted down halls and into an empty panel room where chairs were still set out.
“Why aren’t you a reserve anymore?” he blurted.
“Is that what you’re so curious about?” Eugene asked, a surprised laugh bursting out of him.
“Yes.”
Eugene shrugged.
“I don’t know why you care so much, but Williams needed the stronger reserve on the team. I think you can figure out her decision.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why only keep one reserve? You were already on the team. Does your school have a rule constraining you to a four-person team?” Jesse asked, then huffed when Eugene stared blankly at him. “There’s no other reason to cut a reserve you already instated. I’ve known schools that let anyone who’s interested in joining the team be on it as a reserve.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Then why is every school here four people?”
“It’s an image thing. Schools that are—well, public schools tend not to have a ton of interest in fencing. And those that do just…encourage anyone to join. And they have massive, awful teams. It’s not their fault they haven’t got European coaches, so my dad says I shouldn’t judge.”
“And you know about these massive, awful teams how, exactly?”
“My mom is very into education. She does a lot of outreach and works to raise funds for this and that at various public schools. Sometimes sports like fencing are funded and I’ll do demonstrations. I’ve been back several times to a couple of them and their teams are always bigger than I remember them.”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“I don’t know, you’re just not what I expect from an Exton golden child.”
Jesse narrowed his eyes at him.
“What does that mean?”
“That every time I’ve run into you, you’ve been real forward in demanding someone’s time or attention. I extrapolated.”
Jesse wanted to protest, but he realized he couldn’t. He glared when Eugene’s mouth caught in a smirk. He hadn’t missed Jesse’s realization.
“So you’re saying I got cut from the team because only public schools have multiple reserves and we didn’t want to look low class?” he said, smirk turning mirthful.
“I don’t know. Is that what happened?”
“We were told there was only room for one of us. I didn’t really question it. I mean, only matches I’ve been to have been upper-crust assholes, I guess. No offense.”
“I thought you just said I wasn’t an upper-crust asshole.”
“I implied I was wrong about you being a total trust fund pretty boy brat, but sure.”
“I am not a brat. Or an asshole.”
“Right. Well, thanks, I guess. For being upfront with me about the reserve stuff, I appreciate it. But I still don’t get why.”
“I thought not being on the team might be the reason you look so…” Jesse pinched his eyebrows, searching for the words.
“So what?”
“The way you did while watching your friends fence.”
Eugene’s eyes widened, making already large brown eyes dominate his face. Then he looked away from Jesse. To the floor. It was hard to tell on his darker skin, but Jesse thought heat might be stinging his cheeks.
“Yes,” Jesse said, sighing with relief. “It’s like that. What is it? Why do I feel so ashamed for feeling it?”
Eugene looked back to him as quickly as he’d averted his eyes.
“Why do you feel like it?”
“For winning,” Jesse confessed quietly. “For beating Seiji.”
He hated the way tears felt like burning in his eyes. He knew that they weren’t supposed to. He understood Seiji hadn’t done anything wrong not wanting to be second best. He hated it anyway.
An arm slung over Jesse’s shoulders and pulled him down to the floor, sliding them both down the wall.
“I don’t know what that feeling’s called. Regretful, maybe?”
“Rueful?” Jesse suggested.
“Maybe a little resentful.”
“Sad.”
“Happy, too.”
“Yes.”
“It’s the feeling of wishing things were different but trying to be okay with how things are.”
“It sucks.”
“It’s better than blind anger. Or hatred.”
“It tastes bitter anyway.”
“Bittersweet,” Eugene said. “Maybe that’s what it is.”
“I don’t see that it’s very sweet at all.”
“You won. And you’re moving on, aren’t you? Even with a losing team, Seiji’s happier at Kings Row than he’d be with Exton and I think you saw that today.”
“I wish things were different,” Jesse sighed, “but they aren’t. And I’m trying to be okay with how they are. Bittersweet.”
“See?”
“Then how is anything sweet for you? It was cruel of your coach to allow another reserve on the team just to have them compete for the real slot after months of thinking you’d made it.”
Eugene tensed next to Jesse, and he knew he’d hit something. Sneaking a glance over, he caught the definite sting of shame beaten against brown cheeks.
“I got to be part of the team for that time. I made friends and memories and progress I never would have made and I wouldn’t give any of it up. My friend made the team he worked fucking hard to get on and he deserves it. My guys are going strong and I’m happy for them. Proud of them. I wish things were different. But I kinda hate myself for wishing they were.”
And Jesse understood the shame.
“I shouldn’t wish for Seiji to be chained to me when it makes him feel so small,” Jesse whispered.
“I shouldn’t wish I had won a spot on the team when it would have sent Nick home for good.”
“So more bitter than sweet,” Jesse said heavily.
“No. It tastes bad right now because it’s early. As life moves forward, I think more sweet will even out the bitter until you hardly feel that old tang. Like you. You’ll find a new best friend who sees you as an equal and not as someone casting a shadow and you’ll be happy for your old best friend too. Maybe you could even reconnect in ten years. Who knows.”
“And you’ll…try out for the team next year?”
Eugene’s smile froze. Jesse hadn’t noticed until then that it had come out, warm and soft at the edges. His face was suited to smiles more sweet than bitter.
Notes:
While I've only fenced in solo competitions and only started after high school, I have a friend who fenced on a high school team, and I've pestered them about it a lot LMFAO and their experience doesn't seem to line up so much with Eugene's experience jsdfjkal so i feel justified in making the assumptions and claims that I do here XD
Chapter Text
“No, of course you won’t,” Jesse said. Too loudly. “And you’re right. Fuck them, Eugene.” There was fire in Jesse’s eyes Eugene had never seen before. They bore into Eugene’s now, so bright they blazed electric blue. “Come to Exton next year instead.”
Eugene laughed.
“What?”
“Come to Exton and be on my team.”
“It’s good of you to try cheering me up—”
“No. I’m serious.”
“Assuming I humor that idea, I couldn’t make the team at Kings Row. Exton is the top fencing school in the state. It’s up there on the national scale too.”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“Sure?”
“That’s not overly impressive. If you want to be a good fencer, you go to Europe. You just do. America isn’t very good at fencing and American coaches are eight out of ten bad. Train with me from now until August, and then decide if you’ll try out for Exton. My coach is excellent, despite his being American. Well, born American. His father was French—we have a lot of family over there and—never mind, my point is, I bet we could get you on the team fair and square by the time school starts. If you’re willing to put in the work for it.”
“Why? That’s a lot of work for you—especially for a stranger. Why are you so invested?”
“I don’t know. But I am.”
The honesty of that answer did more for Eugene than anything else might have. He considered it. Guiltily.
“I can’t. I’d be betraying Kings Row. I couldn’t do that to my friends.”
“If I were you, I’d feel betrayed by my coach and everyone under her influence. If I were you, I think I’d hate them.”
“I’m trying hard not to let resentment ruin my life.”
“I used to have a best friend,” Jesse said, falling back against the wall he’d leaned off of at some point to argue his case. “He was always at my side. But he resented me. A little. And then a little more. And the more we were together, the more he resented me. And he tried not to let it ruin his life—so he left. He transferred schools and nothing was the same. It hurt a lot. But I think he did the right thing.”
It wasn’t the same. But Eugene slumped back against the wall too, tipping his head up to fall against it.
“From now until August, huh?” he asked. “Bring it on.”
Two weeks.
Eugene had been in contact with Jesse Coste for two weeks and the boy was already running his life. Or trying to, anyway.
“I was just reviewing your nutrition plan and, fine, yes, you’re on the right track,” Jesse said in Eugene’s ear.
“Just on the right track?” Eugene pressed, grinning. Jesse couldn’t see. In fact, they hadn’t seen each other since State. But Eugene had always been told he had an emotive voice, so he trusted that Jesse could sense his grin.
“You’ve clearly maximized for heavy lifting over trim agility, but, well. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Is that your way of calling me buff? Because, hey, thanks for noticing.”
“That’s my way of saying I’ll leave your diet alone. I’m not in the habit of dictating my team’s bodies, only in ensuring they’re kept in good repair. So despite your bigger target area from the excessive weights routine, I’m confident we can work with it.”
“Gee, thanks,” Eugene laughed.
Two weeks. And he’d already given up on correcting Jesse’s claim on him as part of his team.
“I can hear the clanging from here. You’re at it again, aren’t you?”
“Just some light curls. What about you? I can’t hear shit from your end.”
“I was reviewing your notes, I told you. Now that State is behind us, I have some flexibility in my schedule and it looks like yours mostly consists of the gym and spontaneous outings with friends.”
“I want it on the record that I’ve worked under five different coaches in my high school career and you are the first person I’ve ever filled out a schedule for.”
“That’s only natural. You care about fencing most.”
It was an assumption, but it was correct.
“You were just about to tell me when to block out time to meet you,” Eugene prompted.
“Yes. Saturdays would be best. I’d like to fence with you and see what we’re working with before taking you home. I like to be informed on things and my dad will want my opinions.”
“How often do you bring home strays to train under your dad?” Eugene asked, a slight thrum in his chest reminding him of how insane this was. Fencing with Robert Coste. He couldn’t imagine it. And Jesse spoke so casually about it.
“Only Seiji. And now you. My dad’s elated I’m bringing over a new friend so I expect you to make a good impression.”
“I’m great with meeting the parents,” Eugene assured. “But did you warn your dad I’m no Seiji Katayama?”
“Of course. Which, as I said, will lead to him expecting me to have analyzed your style and skill.”
“Saturdays,” Eugene parroted. “Tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”
“Nine to three. I’ll send you the location of the club I fence at—I’ve already worked it out with the owners to use the space. They’re good friends of my father’s.”
“Sweet. I’ll see you tomorrow?” he hedged, not sure if their Saturday blocks would be starting this weekend or next.
“Yes. Bring your gear.”
“No duh.”
“And you’d better have thick skin because we haven’t got time to be gentle.”
“Hey, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s getting back up. Endurance and resilience, that’s me.”
“Good.”
“And Jesse?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks. For doing all this.”
“Oh,” Jesse said, sounding slightly staggered. “You’re welcome.”
When Eugene picked up his phone to cut the line, it was with a smile.
Notes:
I'm thinking Saturday updates :) this fic will simply go where it goes because writing it all before posting would be a longggg hiatus for you all
Chapter Text
Eugene lunged for Jesse, but his blade was easy to avoid. Jesse slipped under it and thrust with a slight retreat, securing his win. Fifteen to one.
They’d fenced five matches to five points and two matches to fifteen. Jesse had won all of them easily, but Eugene wasn’t a hopeless case. It was a relief, honestly. Getting him up to standard wouldn’t be easy, but it would have been harder if Eugene needed to unlearn everything in order to be taught properly.
“So, what’s the assessment?” Eugene asked, lowering his water bottle, mask held under one arm.
“You have the mechanics,” Jesse said slowly. “But it’s…” he reached for the proper word. “Blocky. Disjointed. Like you’re taking drills and stringing them together. That works well enough at lower levels, but you need to be fluent to stand a chance against high-caliber fencers. I’ll want to see you against other opponents, but you adjusted quickly to reading me in our first match. You’ve got a good sense for body language and adapting to your opponent’s style.”
“Damn, you made it sound like you’d be crushing my spirit into the ground, but that’s about the nicest critique I’ve ever gotten.”
“You try to muscle your way through things,” Jesse continued. “We need to work on subtlety and grip. I think moving to a French grip could be good for you—it’s better for learning control with the fingers. You move too much with wrist and arm, which gives you away and opens you up. And your technique needs work. A lot of work. Accuracy too. Overall, your foundation is solid enough. For a seven-year-old, but still.”
Eugene laughed at that.
“Tell me where to start. I’m aiming for eight-year-old level by the end of the month.”
“Put on your mask and meet me on the strip. We’ll be advance lunge distance to practice engagements. You favor four and eight, and both could use work. But I want to see six and seven too. I bet you’re abysmal at seven anything.”
“Yeah, that one’s my least favorite. I can’t get it but don’t get what I’m doing wrong.”
Jesse nodded.
“You’re moving from the wrong place. Pick a French grip from the rack. I’ll show you.”
Eugene did so without complaint and he took Jesse’s instruction well even when Jesse criticized everything from his grip to his stance in snapping direction as they went through the paired exercise.
“So, have you got sufficient notes to impress your dad?” Eugene asked as they dressed down for the day.
“Yes, I think so. The sooner we work with him, the better.”
“I’m good for it whenever. And let me know if you’ve ever got time during the week to meet.”
Jesse nodded his approval. That was the attitude he needed.
“I’ll send you the schedule for classes here. I want you to attend the level one épée classes as often as possible and I’ll tell you when I can come. Video your matches and send them to me too.”
“You got it,” Eugene said, smile genuine but still a little bemused. He couldn’t figure out what was in this for Jesse, but Jesse still didn’t have an answer. He just knew he needed Eugene on his team. “Thanks again. I really owe you.”
“Yes, you probably do,” Jesse agreed. “I’ll have to think of what I want in return.”
“Let me know when you figure it out.”
Jesse tried not to pace.
“Nervous?” Dad asked, making Jesse jump and jerk around.
He’d been pacing.
“Why would I be nervous? I’m just anxious to get started. We have a lot to work on.”
Jesse checked the clock again. Still ten minutes to noon, when he’d told Eugene to arrive. He couldn’t imagine Eugene would be late to such an important introduction. He’d been perfectly punctual and dedicated in Jesse’s every demand thus far. But it would just figure if this was the first thing he decided to mess up.
He didn’t.
Three minutes to noon, a knock on the door echoed through the house. Jesse strode to answer it, his father right behind him. When he pulled it open, Eugene stood on the other side, looking respectable in dark jeans and a simple blue t-shirt, fencing bag over one shoulder and a plate of little muffins held in the other hand.
“Hey, thanks for having me,” he said, nodding first to Jesse and then to his dad. “It’s an honor to meet you. I’m Eugene.”
Dad took Eugene’s offered hand with a nod.
“It’s good to meet you, Eugene. I hear you’re attending my alma mater.”
“For now,” Jesse cut in.
“Yes, Sir. You’re a legend—we’ve still got your old gear at the clubhouse.”
“The clubhouse?” Jesse asked as his dad laughed.
“Jesse, why don’t you take that and show Eugene around?” he asked with a nod to the muffins, ignoring Jesse’s question.
“You’ve got a clubhouse?” Jesse persisted as the warm scent from the muffins reached his senses. “Oh, coconut,” he said, plucking one of the muffins from its place and delivering it to his dad automatically.
“Coconut macaroons,” Eugene supplied. “Made fresh this morning.”
“Macaroons?” Jesse repeated blankly, looking again at the little muffins. They didn’t look like any macaroon Jesse had ever seen.
“Family recipe,” Eugene said like that ought to clear things up. When it didn’t, he laughed. “Filipino recipe, not French.”
Jesse nodded, feeling like he ought to have known that. He hadn’t even known Eugene was—presumably—Filipino until this moment, but he still felt awkward for the fumble.
“Delicious,” Dad said, which wasn’t necessarily impressive. He liked coconut anything. “And still warm. Thank you for bringing them.”
“Yeah,” Eugene smiled. “Of course.”
“Come this way,” Jesse told Eugene, but now that introductions were over he was stooping to untie his shoes.
“I’ll be in the gym when you two are set,” Dad said, nabbing another macaroon before striding off.
“You weren’t late,” Jesse said once they were alone.
Eugene’s eyes flicked to him.
“Yeah, I know. Did you think I would be?”
“It’s good that you weren’t. Do you always bring food when you visit people or are you trying to impress my dad?”
Eugene laughed, shoes off and feet regained.
“You seem more concerned than I am with me impressing your dad. I don’t like to come empty-handed when someone invites me into their home. But your dad’s pretty cool, so I wouldn’t say I’m not trying to impress him.”
“Good. I’m glad you understand.”
For some reason, that made Eugene’s smile linger, several shades brighter than it really had any reason to be.
Jesse didn’t linger in anything. They were on a tight schedule and not even a second could be spared if he intended to make Eugene Labao first fencer on his team.
And he did.
A tangle of emotions in his chest had gotten tangled in the knot tied tightly in Eugene’s over the course of a single conversation. No, a single glimpse. And now he’d never unravel it all without pulling Eugene’s knotted heartstrings free too.
So Jesse led Eugene through the kitchen to drop off the treats—grabbing one for himself to eat later before Dad got to them all—and directed Eugene to a guest room upstairs to change.
“Wait here when you’re done,” he instructed.
“Got it, Cap,” Eugene replied with a roll of his eyes.
But the title wouldn’t be a joke for long.
Chapter Text
Jesse was on a tight schedule and Eugene found himself ushered to a crazy in-home salle and tugged immediately into a warmup bout. He assumed the purpose was to demonstrate his baseline, and when they were finished—Eugene the proud holder of one point to Jesse’s five—he was proven right.
“What have you been working on?” Mr. Coste asked.
“The classes I’ve been to this week have been on direct attacks, and Jesse was helping me with my six and seven parries. He mentioned I move too much with my wrist and arm, so I’ve been focusing a lot on finger control.”
Mr. Coste nodded approvingly and Eugene noticed the way Jesse glowed at it.
“Yes, I can see that. You’ll improve greatly once you can manipulate your blade with finer control, but it’s hard to let go of old habits when they feel so much easier.”
“Yeah, Jesse had to show me about twenty times how to hold the French grip because it felt so wrong.”
“I told him a cant will help. All the club blades have straight grips so anyone can use them, but they’re meant to be fit to you.”
“And I told Jesse I never fenced with anything but a pistol grip before,” Eugene shrugged.
“We can keep you working on the pistol grip if you’d like,” Mr. Coste said. “Jesse prefers it. Both have their pros and cons, and if you’re more comfortable with pistol, you might benefit from focusing on mastering it. On the other hand, it can be easier to learn things on something a little less familiar too. You don’t have any bone-deep bad habits with a French grip, but you don’t have any good ones either.”
“I’ll keep at it with the French grip, then,” Eugene said, noticing again that Jesse looked distinctly pleased by this. No mystery why—it was on Jesse’s recommendation that Eugene had made the decision. “How do I get it canted when the blade arrives?”
“We can cant it here,” Jesse said eagerly. “You should just come to the armory and choose a blade—we’ve got untouched right-handed ones.” Jesse turned uncharacteristically wide eyes on his dad, puppy dog style. “You’ve been saying you’ll show me how to cant a blade.”
“That I have,” Mr. Coste agreed. “It’s not a long process.”
Eugene was so caught up on the fact that Jesse spoke of a personal armory that it took him three extra beats to understand what Jesse was saying and that his dad had agreed to it.
“I can order my own blade, you don’t have to—”
Jesse was already striding away. Eugene watched him go, dumbfounded.
“There’s little use in arguing with him,” Mr. Coste advised, clapping a friendly hand against Eugene’s shoulder. “Let’s go get a blade in your hand.”
Still rather shocked, Eugene nodded but didn’t start moving until Mr. Coste did.
Jesse already had a blade with a French grip selected when they got to the armory, which was a small room just about the size of Kings Row’s but much neater and better stocked. Better lit too. Tools lined the wall over a long counter and épées stood in stands against the opposite one. Masks hung next to jutting arms holding extra blades without a guard, ready to replace on a broken weapon. Magnifying glasses and perfectly organized tool chests sat on the workspace, and some sort of clamp tool was attached to it.
“This is cool,” Eugene said. “Do you do your own repairs?” he asked Jesse, impressed.
Pursing his lips, Jesse shook his head.
“No, my dad does them. But he’s been showing me.”
“Usually not willingly,” Mr. Coste commented with a laugh.
“Dad!” Jesse hissed with a darting glance to Eugene and a slight reddening of cheeks.
“Let me see you hold that, Eugene. I can get an idea of what cant you need.”
Jesse handed off the blade, and when Mr. Coste was satisfied, Eugene handed it off to him. He and Jesse both watched intently as Mr. Coste modified it for Eugene, talking them both through it.
“Thank you,” Eugene said when it was handed back to him. He automatically tried it, surprised at how much better it felt in his hand. It was no pistol grip, but it was comfortable. “That makes a huge difference.”
“It will be even better if you hold it right,” Jesse said, and Eugene knew to hand the thing to him and watch his demonstration. He said a whole lot of nonsense the way he always did when talking about how to hold a blade. Eugene figured it really probably wasn’t nonsense at all—it was just an aspect of fencing no one had ever bothered to teach, really. All Coach Williams generally said on the matter was to hold it like a bird: firm enough to keep but not hard enough to hurt. So Eugene listened to Jesse’s nonsense and tried to make sense of it. “See? Now you try.”
Eugene did, demonstrating slowly for Jesse and waiting for correction. He got a nod. So he was at least close. But he knew he’d need to be shown at least another fifty times before it sunk in.
“Are we ready?” Mr. Coste asked, and Eugene saw a lingering smile on his face directed toward his son. Jesse didn’t seem to notice.
“Yes, we’re ready,” Jesse declared, leading the charge out of the room and back to the salle.
“I really appreciate you taking the time to help me today, Mr. Coste,” Eugene said as they followed Jesse.
“Don’t call me Mr. Coste,” he said with a new smile. “Robert is fine.”
“And Seiji adhered to that?”
“I’m sorry, Seiji, I hardly recognized you. Did you change your hair?”
“Dad!” Jesse said, top volume and quick to color. But Eugene laughed.
“Oh, you know France,” Eugene shrugged. “Great for the tan, bad for the manners.”
Jesse didn’t laugh, but his dad did.
Once they were back to the strip they’d started at, Mr. Coste—Robert—was somehow an even greater presence than before. No longer just a champion fencer and father, but a coach. He was less involved than the coaches Eugene had worked with before but just as active. After paired exercises, he had them fence but didn’t shout advice from the sidelines. He had plenty to say, though. Eugene learned that you just had to work for it.
Eugene understood why Jesse had wanted to see him fence first to answer his father’s questions about his training. Robert gave advice, but Eugene found that he had to pay attention to himself to know specifically what to ask for from Robert.
“Could you show me that seven parry again, Mr.—ah, Robert?” Eugene asked after another loss. “I’m still missing something.”
“Robert just won’t stick, will it?”
Eugene smiled sheepishly.
“My ma taught me to respect my elders with proper titles. Old habits die hard.”
“How about Coach?”
The suggestion caught Eugene off guard. Coach somehow felt more personal than even Robert. Like Eugene had any claim to this Olympic gold medalist as his coach.
“Yeah,” Eugene said, unable to quell his grin. “I could do Coach.”
Notes:
fun fact, some of these scenes/insights from the Costes were meant to go to Nick in a huge (unpublished) work in project that's fencing-centric, but i feel like it's fitting that he sacrifices a little for Eugene uwu
Chapter Text
“Where do you keep going?” Marcel asked lazily after practice as Jesse slipped into gym clothes from his shower.
“I’ve got a social life,” Jesse replied.
“Not particularly. Not outside of the team.”
“Yes, well.” Jesse frowned. “I suppose I can’t argue with that.”
Marcel raised his eyebrows.
“Then it’s as I asked, where do you keep going? Not on dates, dressed like that.”
Jesse looked down at his chosen gym clothes—black joggers he knew he looked great in, pristine white sneakers, and a simple pink sweatshirt that was cropped just to the waistband of his pants. He didn’t believe in going anywhere looking less than perfect.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Don’t be so sensitive, Jesse. You wouldn’t be caught dead in that anywhere but the gym.”
“That’s fine since I’m going to the gym.”
“And that’s the answer I was looking for,” Marcel said with rolling eyes. “Why not just use the school gym?”
“Because I’m meeting someone. Not on a date—you’re right I wouldn’t wear this to one. Or consider the gym a good date. And I’ll be late if I keep chatting here.”
“Have fun with your gym companion,” Marcel said, words laced in amusement. Jesse waved a hand in goodbye and hurried out with his bag over his shoulder.
Technically, he couldn’t be late for something that hadn’t been specifically planned. He sent a message to Eugene as he climbed into his car to change that.
He always was. Diligent and persistent, Eugene went to the club every day. Jesse hadn’t intended to be there so constantly with him when he’d told Eugene to attend classes and take advantage of his membership at the club. But with coaches actually interested in teaching how to fence and not just how to pick a move and master it, Eugene’s progress matched his dedication. It made Jesse want to match it too. There was no reason for him to spend so much time at the club, but he was there almost every day with Eugene.
Today when Jesse arrived, he found Eugene running a sequence with a partner who couldn’t be older than twelve. He laughed with the boy the same way he did everyone, and treated him as an equal in the exchange despite her age.
Jesse would have been embarrassed to fence with children. He liked that Eugene didn’t. Having an ego wasn’t something you could afford if you weren’t at his level.
Sitting down on one of the few chairs lined across the wall, Jesse pulled his history textbook from his bag, splitting his attention between reading and watching Eugene. He wrote notes in the margins of the book. Not about the reading.
“Ay, world civ,” Eugene said, startling Jesse. Class wasn’t over yet. But glancing up, Jesse saw they’d switched to open fencing and Eugene was chugging water.
“Don’t get distracted talking,” Jesse scolded.
“Sorry, Cap,” Eugene said, not sounding sorry at all. “Not to flex, but social studies is my best subject. Aced every class and AP test so far.”
“Clearly you want me to be impressed.”
“Nah, I’m just setting the stage.”
“For what?”
“For my deal. I’m working on attacks—”
“Be more specific.”
“Direct attacks, then. I know I go in with a bent arm, but I’ve been working on it this week.”
“I know.”
Eugene’s mouth pulled up on one side in a smile, but he didn’t comment on whatever was amusing him.
“I hate to pull you from your studies and all, but if you could watch a couple bouts and keep an eye on that for me, I can help you with that after,” he nodded down at Jesse’s book.
“What makes you think I need help?”
“You’ve been scrunching up your face at that same page for five minutes.”
“Your time would be better spent paying attention to your fencing, not to me.”
“I always figured you’d be the type of guy to like attention always finding its way back to you.”
“When my goal is to get you to ask me on a date rather than for a spot on my team, I’ll let you know,” Jesse said flatly, causing Eugene to laugh.
“My bad,” he said, hands up. “So, about my deal?”
Jesse wouldn’t admit it, but he was always happy to find an excuse for his attention to get pulled back to fencing. A proper, well-rounded young man would care more about his studies.
Jesse didn’t. He cared about his grades, but he had little interest in schooling beyond that. So he closed his heavy text book and put it aside, sitting back and crossing his arms with a cocked eyebrow.
“Impress me,” he challenged.
“I plan to.”
Eugene wasn’t particularly impressive in any of the bouts today, but he was the only one who stayed up on a strip to fence the whole forty minutes of open fencing. Of course, such was the standard on Jesse’s team, but he really did seem to run on perfect stamina with nothing but water—he went through three bottles today.
As the class ended, Eugene shook hands with his instructor and discussed some cartoon with the kids as they dressed down and packed up, then said goodbye to each one by name.
Eugene hadn’t dressed down with them.
“Let’s hear your notes,” he said, speaking at last to Jesse. He uncrossed his legs and stood.
“You need to drop your shoulder when you extend and make sure you’re deep enough in your stance.”
“Body mechanics,” Eugene nodded.
“Exactly. If you keep your tip on target and commit, you’d hit more than just sticking it out and aiming as you step. A good deal of the advances you made to hit were unnecessary—if you’d just dropped your shoulder and bent your knees more, you would have reached your target.”
“Got it. Get me set up at a target and I’ll do reps while you read that chapter to me,” Eugene tilted his head toward the history book.
“I’m sorry, since when are you in charge?”
“Come on, give it a go.”
“Fine, but if your performance suffers from listening to nonsense about world conflicts, we’re stopping.”
Eugene just smiled and picked up the chair Jesse had been sitting in and the book he’d put aside. Setting them up near a target rig, Eugene fetched his blade and mask. He allowed Jesse easily to correct his posture and help guide his movements, not resisting or complaining at all. When Jesse had been given the captaincy as a freshman last year, most of the older boys in his school’s club resented his guidance. It was refreshing to work with someone that could swallow their pride.
“Like this?” Eugene asked, demonstrating all Jesse had taught.
“Yes. Keep choosing your target and committing. You can hit any point right now without advancing—if you’re falling short it’s because you’re doing something wrong.”
“Got it. Ready to listen to those world conflicts now.”
Jesse hid his scowl as he sat and pulled open the textbook again, sighing as he flipped several pages back to behind from the start of the chapter.
Eugene was an annoyingly active listener, cutting in to ask Jesse questions that he clearly knew the answer to or else to point out some connection or another. Sometimes, he had a story. Sometimes, he had a memory trick. Slowly, he pulled Jesse into conversation over the text with his insights and opinions. He didn’t hide his scowl at all when he had to search through the damn chapter to contradict Eugene only to find that he was right. His huff made Eugene laugh.
“It’s not fair that you’re smart when you look like—”
“Yeah? What do I look like?”
“Like you’re all muscle and no brain.”
“It’s not fair that you’re a good captain when you look like…”
“Yes? What’s that?”
“Like you were handed the pin just because you’ve got medals.”
“Everyone assumes that.”
“Yeah, I know a thing or two about assumptions. Feels good to prove them wrong, doesn’t it?”
Jesse thought about it.
“Yes. It does.”
Notes:
I have kept to update schedules through some absolutely traumatic shit and posted on some of the worst days of my life because I'm not like those other authors, I'm very mindful, very demure, i miss updates over stupid inconsequential shit instead
anyway sorry this is a day late, i planned on updating at a concert last night but ran into a friend there and talked all night with them instead!
Chapter Text
Eugene generally considered himself a healthy person. Well balanced. Non obsessive.
He knew that ship had sailed when he simultaneously ran into Seiji at five in the morning and sent a message to his friends about opting out of a hang-out proposed last night for this afternoon.
“Breakfast isn’t served for another hour,” Seiji said so genuinely and flatly, it made Eugene laugh.
“Bud, I’ve been at this school longer than you. I know when breakfast is. I’m just hitting the weights early. Don’t worry, I won’t talk your ear off about protein shakes,” he promised, offering a grin and a salute, phone still in hand. “I will leave you to your solitude.”
“Oh. It’s…appreciated,” Seiji said with squinting eyes, like he wasn’t sure what to make of Eugene. That wasn’t new. But he returned what almost passed for a smile.
Eugene’s reason for hitting the gym early wasn’t for the solitude, though he did enjoy settling down with a killer playlist, an interesting podcast, or an audiobook as much as he enjoyed talking with friends. His reason was likely the same as Seiji’s real one—there just wasn’t any other time for it. Fencing took his afternoons, and with the commute, he had to leave right from school to get to the club on time.
“Wait—one thing,” Eugene said, spinning back to Seiji and startling him like a ruffled-up cat. “The clubhouse—I just remembered, I left my Levi jacket there. Could you grab it for me next time you’re there?”
“You know the way,” Seiji frowned, smoothing back down from his surprise.
“Yeah, but,” Eugene shrugged with a smile. Seiji didn’t get it. “Just tell Nick to grab it. I get my jacket, you get to inconvenience Nick. It’s a win-win.”
“I suppose I can tell him.”
“Great, thanks, Seiji!”
This time, with a clap to Seiji’s back, Eugene actually did leave him to his solitude.
“Hey, Eugene! Wait up!”
Eugene turned and was relieved to find a smile growing as he spotted Nick jogging towards him, wavy his favorite Levi jacket above him like a flag.
“Seiji really came through for me,” he said delightedly just to laugh at Nick’s scowl.
“He doesn’t need any encouragement in bossing me around, asshole. You should hear him get on my case about leaving socks on the floor. Anyway, sorry about holding your jacket hostage,” he said, holding it out for Eugene to take. “I guess I never noticed it.”
Eugene took the offering with a more subdued smile, looking down at it. Maybe it had seemed like it belonged over the back of the chair where he’d flung it months ago. Or maybe it just hadn’t made enough of an impression to matter one way or the other. Invisible and forgotten.
Eugene had known exactly where it was. He hadn’t ever forgotten it. He just hadn’t been able to get it back. Now he had it, and its absence wouldn’t be noticed by anyone.
“Thanks for grabbing it. It’s my favorite—I’d have been real bummed to lose it.”
“Yeah, for sure.”
“I’ll see you, then,” Eugene said, returning to the car door and the key only just slotted into it. “I’ve got places to be, you know how it is. And trust me when I say I’ll be in deep shit if I’m late.”
Nick cocked his head slightly. Possibly considering asking Eugene where he was going. In the end, he didn’t.
“Since I’m a good friend, I won’t purposely get you in trouble with whoever it is that nags you endlessly.”
“Nagging isn’t the right word,” Eugene laughed, thinking of Jesse’s stern expectations. “But I’d hate to disappoint him.”
Walking into the club, Eugene pulled open his locker, all his gear safely tucked away for him.
“Don’t forget to pack that up for tomorrow,” an unmistakable voice said behind him.
“What?” Eugene asked with feigned shock, turning to Jesse. “I thought we were chilling tomorrow. I packed my swimsuit and pajamas already!”
“Hilarious,” Jesse said, arms crossing. But there was a glimmer of amusement in the corner of his mouth. “Now stop wasting time and gear up.”
“You’re the one that interrupted me,” Eugene pointed out. Jesse only rolled his eyes.
Eugene pulled into his gear over the shorts and tee he’d changed into before coming. He had gym clothes here too in case he didn’t have time to drop by his dorm before heading over, but with Jesse’s hovering, he was glad for the extra efficiency today.
“So, are you going to warm up with me?” Eugene asked, closing his locker, Levi jacket stashed inside.
“I’m not the one taking lessons today.”
“You’re in a good mood,” Eugene noted. “And you’re here early. So you haven’t fenced yet this afternoon and you’re feeling generous enough to fence someone with the skill of a ten year old.”
“Ten? I said seven.”
“That was ages ago.”
“Three years of progress in a couple of months? You’re feeling cocky.”
“Maybe,” Eugene admitted, “but I’ve got a good reason to be.”
“Yes, me.”
Eugene laughed.
“Basically, yeah,” he agreed. “I feel like I’ve improved more in the last three months than I have in the last three years.”
“I’ll do a couple warm-up bouts with you,” Jesse said. “Don’t slack off while I’m changing.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Eugene hardly had time to warm up alone before Jesse was back in his fencing whites. Eugene grinned at the sight, falling to the guard line where his mask, glove, and blade waited.
As he saluted Jesse—a practice Jesse insisted on even in practice, whether for a warm-up bout or a mock tournament—Eugene felt himself slip even deeper into fencing mania. By all means, fencing Jesse should have gotten old by now. Probably, it should have gotten frustrating since Eugene still struggled to score. But standing opposite Jesse, Eugene understood what Nick meant when he said every match was against Seiji, even those that weren’t.
Eugene loved fencing new people and he spent each moment of a bout being in the moment with his opponent. But Jesse was the most fun to fence—the best to fence. Because fencing Jesse made Eugene the best fencer he was and made him want to be the best fencer he could be.
“You’re incredible,” Eugene said, shaking his head after taking off his mask at the conclusion of their third bout to five. Jesse had won all of them, but Eugene had accumulated five hits today.
“Yes, I am.” A pause. “What specifically are you referring to? Out of curiosity.”
“You’re playing side dummy for me so I can practice. It’s like you’re quizzing me on what I learned this week. Or giving me a chance to practice.”
Jesse’s half-lidded eyes rounded out slightly.
“You noticed?”
“That you were holding back? Yeah, it was pretty obvious. I’m getting cocky, not delusional.”
“And you’re not going to tell me off for disrespecting you by holding back?”
“If you were throwing a competition out of pity, I’d have an issue. But this? It was helpful to see the cues for the attacks we’ve worked on in class at fencing speed. Not your fencing speed—I noticed you were slowing down, too—but still in action.”
Jesse nodded.
“It’s really very convenient you’re so sensible.”
“Thanks, I think you’re convenient and sensible too.”
“Yes, yes,” Jesse said, but it was clear he was distracted already, back in his head. “Let’s go for one more. This time I want you to focus on drawing me. Remember, when you invite your opponent in for a hit, you’re dictating their move. Be ready to react to it.”
“And this time, don’t always let me score when I take your invitation.”
“Deal.”
Eugene was almost regretful when his class started and Jesse stepped off the strip. He’d have all of tomorrow to fence Jesse, and he really did like fencing everyone here. But Jesse had a way of hyper-focusing him on fencing in a way that was hard to pull away from. In a way he always wanted to return to lately. Jesse was a bright sun and he was pulling Eugene fully into orbit.
Class went by too fast just the same as it had started, ending before Eugene was ready to go. He looked to Jesse, a question already raising in his eyebrow. The answer was given in the pull of lips upward—slight and suppressed like Jesse didn’t want Eugene to know he liked fencing with him too.
But Eugene knew it. There was no way to hide it. Jesse wouldn’t be here every day if he didn’t. It was impossible but true: Jesse Coste had found something in Eugene that pulled him to the strip time and again to fence.
It was also possible Jesse just enjoyed having someone so willing to be bossed around. Eugene really didn’t mind it when Jesse went easy on him to help him develop a skill, but his goal was to graduate from Jesse’s tutelage and fence him as an equal.
A teammate.
“I think it’s time you started joining in on the intermediate épée classes too,” Jesse said as they finished for the night. “You’ll be the weakest one in the class, but you keep insisting you’ve got thick skin.”
“That’s a nice way of saying I must be used to it,” Eugene laughed, shouldering his bag and waving a quick thanks to his instructor on the way out.
“Seiji’s the painfully blunt one,” Jesse said. “I’m generally better at saying the truth in kinder ways. And it is important to know how to be the weaker fencer. In order to improve, you need a healthy variety of those you’re better than, those about on your level, and those who are better than you. The ratio is usually painful.”
“I’ve got tough skin,” Eugene reiterated. “Unlike you.”
Jesse looked ready to be offended, but Eugene brushed a thumb over his arm, under which a pink bruise was visible in his short sleeves.
“You don’t have to look so smug,” Jesse said, swatting at Eugene. “That was a hard hit.”
“Sorry,” Eugene laughed. “But it’s not the first bruise I’ve given you—your skin just marks easy.”
“This sounds a lot like bragging.” Jesse crossed his arms, unimpressed.
“It was more of meant to be teasing, but it is worth bragging about, isn’t it? Getting a touch on you isn’t easy even when you’re playing down your skill.”
“That sounded like a compliment.” Jesse sounded a little more impressed by this.
“Good, it was. And this is me,” Eugene said, stopping at his car. “Thanks for fencing today. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes. Goodnight.”
“Drive home safe.”
“You too.”
“Will do.”
“And Eugene?”
“Yeah?”
“Since you already went to the trouble, don’t bother unpacking anything before you come over.”
Jesse was gone before Eugene could finish processing what he’d just said. He was left alone in the parking lot, a fencing bag over his shoulder and a stupid grin on his face. It had been too long since he’d taken a break to hang out with friends.
Chapter Text
Eugene arrived perfectly on time, this week with an offering of fruit, which Jesse happily accepted.
“Good morning, Eugene,” Dad called, appearing with a mug of coffee Jesse eyed suspiciously. Coffee was the worst to get out of fabric and a run in with the white chaise in the reading room had traumatized him off bringing the beverage anywhere outside of the kitchen.
“Morning, Coach,” Eugene returned easily. Familiarly. It was strange, seeing people getting along with his family when he invited friends over so rarely. It wasn’t bad. Just…different.
“I was thinking of grilling burgers tonight and wanted your opinion. I heard you’re staying over.”
Jesse very intentionally did not look at Eugene after his father’s sabotaging comment, but he did try to signal a look to his dad. He’d completely ruined the casual ease of anything, announcing that Jesse had arranged preemptively for him to stay over if Eugene just so happened to have pajamas in his bag. But now it would be impossibly awkward if Eugene had taken it for a joke.
“I love a good burger,” Eugene said without a pause or so much as a note of confusion. “If you’ve got a grease fryer I can make fries.”
“That sounds atrocious,” Jesse said. “We don’t have a vat of grease in our kitchen.”
Eugene shrugged.
“Potato logs, then. We can do them in the oven.”
“We’ve got an air fryer,” Jesse offered. For some reason, this made Eugene shake his head slightly with a small laugh. Jesse could hear the words of course you do in his voice and wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
“What Jesse means to say,” Dad interjected, “is we’d be glad to have your help in the kitchen.”
Jesse shot his father another look that was either not seen or not correctly interpreted.
“Yes,” he agreed, “that’s what I said. But without the grease. It’s not good for a balanced diet.”
“It’s great for a balanced life, though,” Eugene said, amusement still laden in his voice. “But enough about grease—burgers sound great, Coach. Are we good to fence now?”
“My favorite question,” Dad smiled. “Let’s head to the salle.”
Usually, Eugene left after a couple hours of fencing. Today, when Dad wrapped up the session, instead of saying goodbye, he told them the pool was set up and they ought to take advantage of it before cleaning off for the day.
After Eugene’s positive reaction to the suggestion, Jesse directed him to the guest room and left him to change. But before he went to do the same, he returned to the kitchen.
“Can you get one of those grease-frying things?” Jesse asked his dad, ignoring the raised eyebrow he got.
“Right now?” Dad asked.
“Yes. Please.”
With a laugh and a shake of his head, Dad crossed to the pantry.
“I know we haven’t got one in there,” Jesse told him. “And the air fryer is different.”
“I thought I’d check for potatoes now to avoid making two trips.”
Jesse spared a moment to give Dad a quick hug before darting to his room to change. He couldn’t decide what he ought to wear. He had a dozen choices and all of them were still in his wardrobe for a reason, but he wasn’t sure which occasion to dress for. Certainly not swimming at the lake, and not a sunbathing day either. What about a swim shirt? He had several he liked, but the sweat on his skin made donning one unappealing. He ought to have decided and set it out beforehand.
Eugene was finished dressing before him, and Jesse left his room to the sounds of carrying laughter.
“You ready?” Eugene asked, a smile still on his face as he turned to Jesse.
“Don’t I look ready?” Jesse asked, doing an automatic check of his swimsuit selection against Eugene’s. Eugene had opted for board shorts in his favorite goldenrod yellow with black racer stripes down the sides and no swim shirt, which validated Jesse’s decision against one and his selection of simply baby-blue trunks. They looked like they were going to the same place.
“Maybe. Did you put on sunscreen yet?”
“I keep it by the pool.”
“Then let’s get to it.”
“You boys have fun,” Dad said. “Don’t drown.”
“We make no promises,” Eugene replied as Jesse was rolling his eyes over his dad’s bad sense of humor. He rolled them again to encompass Eugene’s encouragement of it too.
As soon as the pool was in sight, Eugene whooped and ran for it, splashing in with a full cannonball that Jesse flinched away from. When his head broke through the surface again, there was another loud laugh that made the space feel more full than it usually did.
Jesse pulled out the towels and his favorite sunscreen, glancing at Eugene as he squeezed some into his palm. Seiji burned almost as fast in the sun as Jesse did, but Eugene seemed unconcerned.
“Need help with your back?” Eugene asked, catching his glance and already climbing out of the pool.
“I…yes, actually, I will. And did you need any?”
“Already sprayed myself down, but thanks for offering.”
After drying his hands, Eugene held them out for the bottle. Jesse gave it, watching as Eugene warmed the lotion in his hands before presenting him with his back. Despite the effort to warm his touch, it still made Jesse shiver when Eugene’s hands landed on his back. He was overheated from fencing for so long and Eugene was cool from the pool. But he warmed soon enough spreading the sunscreen over Jesse’s back. He even got up the back of Jesse’s neck and ears without having to be asked.
“It’s really cool you’ve got a pool in your backyard,” Eugene said, handing back the bottle and looking around again. There was a short water slide made of red rock and inlaid with tiles to provide a slick surface and an overhead waterfall that could be turned off or on. The attached jacuzzi was standard and already steaming. Then there was the storage under the outdoor counter. Eugene’s eye caught on something. Jesse saw what and tried to slam the door closed.
Eugene snatched a water pistol before Jesse could manage it.
“If you shoot me with that, you’re leaving,” Jesse warned as Eugene fiddled with the toy.
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Eugene laughed.
What did that mean?
Jesse didn’t ask and Eugene dove back into the water anyway.
After finishing with his sunscreen, Jesse pulled out the pool float and left it by the edge. He needed to cool off before lounging on it sounded at all appealing.
“No water guns,” Eugene said, shooting his straight up and watching the stream fall right back down. “Splashing?”
“No.”
“Racing?”
Jesse paused. Eugene pounced on it, tossing his gun onto Jesse’s float.
After seven races, Jesse declared himself ready for a break and pulled his pool float onto the water, dropping the gun on it to the floor as he climbed on and settled down.
“You’re just running away because you won that last one,” Eugene accused. “You know I’d have made a comeback.”
“Three to four, my lead,” Jesse said, satisfied. “Perhaps we can have a rematch sometime.”
“That you’ll keep insisting on doing one more time until you’ve got the lead again. I’ve got your number, Coste.”
“You’re a strong swimmer,” Jesse admitted, tipping his head to look over at Eugene. He’d retrieved his gun and was shooting at the sky again. “My parents put me in lessons when I was young. My dad’s been taking me fishing since I could sit upright,” he explained needlessly. “So it only made sense to ensure I could swim. I’m usually the best swimmer by a mile. You’re not on that team too, are you?”
“Swim team? Nah. But I’m a lifeguard over the summer. I’ve never been fishing, though. Bet you’d beat me at that.”
“I’m sure.”
“We should go sometime. And then we should go ice skating.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I am on the hockey team and bet I’m better on the ice than you.”
“I’ve only been skating once or twice. Can you imagine the consequences if I broke something?”
“That would be a tragedy,” Eugene nodded gravely.
Jesse splashed him.
“It would. Fencing is my life, I can’t be benched over an injury.”
“Hey, it would be a tragedy for me too, dude. You’re the reason I’m still fencing. And the reason I’m improving.”
Jesse frowned, looking back to Eugene. He kept having to look away because the sun was in his eyes. Huffing, he held a hand over them.
“Really, can’t the sun budge over a bit?” he complained when that did nothing. “I can’t see with it in my eyes.”
“Challenge it to a duel,” Eugene suggested.
“I should have grabbed my sunglasses. Or…” he said, thinking, “would you? As my prize for winning the race today. They’re just by my sunscreen on the table.”
“That’s such a bullshit reason,” Eugene laughed. But he splashed to the stairs anyway, then returned with the large white-framed sunglasses Jesse had asked for. “I got those for you out of the goodness of my heart,” he said as Jesse snatched them. “Not because you deserved a prize for ending our game while you were winning.”
“Whatever,” Jesse replied airily, putting on the glasses and sighing in relief for the dulled son. Then he set his attention back on Eugene. “But what do you mean I’m the reason you’re still fencing?”
Eugene’s wide grin fell away, replaced by round shoulders.
“It would have been harder to get back up this time,” he shrugged, that flash of shame appearing in his face before he met Jesse’s eyes. “Without your help. I tried following the team during State, you know. Like, going to sit on the bench to watch. My old coach stopped me. It was only for the team to be there. That’s what everything feels like now. At Kings Row. I know it’s not true, but…I think of going to open practice there and all I remember is being told it’s not for me. I hate to admit it, but I don’t know if I could have kept at it. If I could have kept loving fencing when practicing feels like fresh humiliation. But,” Eugene said, a new smile coming over his face, “thanks to you, I love fencing more than ever.”
Jesse nodded slowly.
“After Seiji, I was…lonely. Fencing felt lonely in a way it hadn’t in a long time. I wanted him back so badly. I think, in part, because I was scared of losing fencing too.”
“I’m glad you’re not lonely anymore.”
“I’m glad you’re still fencing.”
“More than ever,” Eugene said again, shaking his head. “This is probably the first real break from fencing I’ve taken in at least two months.”
“Does it even count as a break?” Jesse wondered, trailing a hand lazily through the water.
“What does that mean?”
“I mean it’s just…an extension of fencing, isn’t it?”
“This?” Eugene asked, aiming his squirt gun at Jesse but knowing better than to pull the trigger. “How is this like fencing?”
Jesse pulled up his sunglasses to give Eugene a warning look. The gun was lowered. So were the sunglasses.
“It’s just us. Being together. Which is like fencing.”
“But without the fencing.”
“Don’t be difficult.”
“I can honestly say I never try to be difficult, Jess, I’m just not sure I see your point.”
“We’re fencing partners.”
“You remind me of my good friend Nick. He also bases his relationships on fencing. You aren’t a part of fencing to me, Jesse. Fencing is a part of you. This right here?” Eugene shot a tiny fountain into the air. “This is a break from fencing. It’s not a break from Jesse Coste. They’re different things, believe it or not.”
“They’re practically synonymous.”
“Of course. Just like winner.”
“And gorgeous.”
“Modest is also in the thesaurus.”
“So you agree.”
“Who am I to argue with reality itself?”
Jesse laughed, closing his eyes with a contented hum.
Sometimes a break from fencing wasn’t so bad.
It was hours by the time Jesse and Eugene left the pool to shower and kill time before dinner. They ended up putting on a movie on the TV by the kitchen until the garage door sounded.
“Jesse, your dad said you urgently needed me to stop at the store, so come help bring things in!”
“My mom,” Jesse explained to Eugene, though it was probably self-explanatory.
“Oh, awesome. I wondered if I’d get to meet her.”
“She’s been working on a project that eats up her weekends. Usually she’s around more.”
Jesse thought of Seiji and his empty house. It felt lonely to remember. Jesse didn’t want to be lonely like that, not even in someone else’s head.
He didn’t think he was. Not anymore. Not even in his own head.
Chapter Text
“Dude, there is no way you just got your mom to go out and buy a grease fryer,” Eugene said, carrying in the proof that Jesse had done exactly that.
“She was already out,” Jesse pointed out. Like that made enough of a difference to bother pointing out at all.
“I thought you said grease was bad for a balanced diet.”
“And I thought you said you never try to be difficult. Right now, Eugene, you’re being difficult. Weren’t you saying you’d make fries?”
Eugene marveled momentarily at Jesse’s complete dismissal of his changed mind and the fact that he’d asked his parents to buy a fryer like it was nothing. He had to be spoiled rotten. But he wasn’t all that insufferable, really. Eugene had met much worse at Kings Row.
“What?” Jesse demanded, frowning at Eugene. “What’s that look for?”
“Your parents must love you a lot,” Eugene said because it was what he was thinking.
“Of course they do.” The frown was still there. “But what do you mean by that?”
“Just that you’re at least spoiled in the good way.”
“I’m not spoiled.”
“You’re definitely spoiled. But with a lot of love, at least. Not like some kids I know who get everything they want just because their parents want them to shut up and fuck off.”
“If you’re going to be that way, I’ll have Mom return that,” Jesse said, grabbing for the box Eugene held. Laughing, Eugene kept it away from him and put it down on the table to unpack.
“Yeah, that’s not helping your case at all, bud. But I think you’ll like the fries.”
“What makes you say that?” Jesse asked challengingly. Clearly he was still stinging from being called spoiled.
“Because they’re delicious. And the evening is perfect for outdoor burgers and fries.”
“I know I’m excited for it,” Mrs. Coste said, sweeping into the kitchen in a long skirt and blouse. She was tall and blonde just like her son. “I love a good potato dish. You’ll be Eugene,” she continued, stopping in front of Eugene with a smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you from my boys. I’m Jesse’s mom, Samantha. Sam for short, please. You can call me Mrs. Coste if you’d like, but I’m afraid I’m terrible at responding to it.”
“It’s good to meet you,” Eugene said, holding out a hand that was taken in a quick shake. “Thank you for getting the fryer.”
“Thank you for giving my son a reason to break his campaign against greasy foods.”
“Mom!”
“Oh, and is that your essay?” she asked, eye catching on something behind Eugene and making him turn to see. On the fridge, a stapled paper with a big red ‘A’ circled on the front like an artifact out of a cartoon was displayed proudly on the fridge. “Your dad was telling me about it. I can’t wait to give it a read myself.”
Curious, Eugene focused on the paper, trying to discern what it was about.
“I can’t believe Dad hung that up,” Jesse groaned, cheeks turning rosy. “I get good grades all the time.”
“You’re rarely so excited about them,” his mom said, which made Jesse’s cheeks turn fully red.
“Mom!” he hissed. If she got the hint, she ignored it.
“It’s very kind of you to help Jesse with his social studies work, Eugene. It’s his least favorite subject, but it sounds like you’ve been a good influence.”
Eugene was surprised at the praise, and somehow even more surprised to find the essay’s subject to be on something he remembered going over with Jesse. It had become somewhat of a habit, doing drills and readings together. Eugene hadn’t really deluded himself that Jesse had gotten much out of it. He found himself happy to hear Jesse had.
“I owe Jesse a lot more than help on social studies for all he’s done for me this year,” Eugene said honestly.
“I don’t think friendship works in I owe yous,” Mrs. Coste—Sam—said with a smile.
“Maybe not,” Eugene glanced at Jesse. “But I’d still like to thank him properly someday.”
“Thank you, Mom, for getting the fryer,” Jesse said loudly. “You can go find Dad now.”
“If you insist,” his mom said, plucking the essay off the fridge and dropping a kiss in Jesse’s hair before leaving.
“I like your folks,” Eugene said, watching Jesse try to smooth over his expression.
“They can be so embarrassing,” he mumbled. “But I guess I should thank you for helping me study,” he added with a slanted glance at Eugene. “You are the reason I did well on that essay.”
“Do I get to read it?”
“Why would you want to?”
Eugene shrugged.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I doubt you make a habit of reading all your friends’ essays.”
“I’ve got a buddy really into marine biology. It’s always cool to see what he comes up with on assignments—and how he manages to make every assignment about marine biology. And I’ve got this other friend who I help out with studying my favorite subject sometimes who apparently writes killer essays. I think it would be cool to see what he wrote too.”
“Fine, but if you’re annoying about it in any direction, I won’t ever let you near my schoolwork again.” At the tiny crease furrowing between blond eyebrows, Eugene had to laugh. “What kind of a threat is that?” Jesse said, asking the obvious question.
“Good news is I’ve never been called annoying in my life,” Eugene declared boldly. And falsely. “Now help me peel some potatoes.”
“Oh, no, sorry, I don’t cook,” Jesse said immediately, hands flying up to showcase their innocence. “I’ll leave that to you.”
Eugene didn’t argue, finding a knife and some bowls to work with on his own as Jesse returned to his seat on the couch. He wandered back over within the hour, though he only perched on the counter next to Eugene’s work, not offering to help at all. Eugene didn’t find it annoying.
Jesse Coste was more than fencing and Eugene was still getting to know him outside the salle. He was different. The same, but more…
“Spoiled,” Eugene murmured under his breath as Jesse called for his dad’s attention to ask for a glass of strawberry lemonade on his way through the kitchen to grab plates for the grill. Jesse didn’t hear him, but he did get his lemonade.
Chapter Text
Dinner was good. Jesse didn’t even worry about the grease as he plucked hot fries from the paper towel-lined bowl Eugene kept offloading them into.
“Not so bad, huh?” Eugene asked, butting a shoulder against Jesse.
“Not entirely,” Jesse replied demurely, ignoring Eugene’s cocky behavior. It wasn’t like it required anybody special to make grease and potatoes taste good, and he wouldn’t be boosting Eugene’s ego over it.
“Fries were the right call,” Dad agreed, stealing the one idling in Jesse’s fingers. Jesse gasped as his father ate the last fry before going back outside to check on the final round of burgers.
“You’re a bad influence,” Jesse accused as Eugene laughed.
“What does that mean?”
“Nobody used to tease me so much until you came around. Well, not Dad, anyway.”
“I don’t know, I think you dug your own grave with the fries. You deserve to be teased a bit for it. And don’t look so put out, the next batch is almost done. If you’d just let me bring them outside instead of eating them all in here, maybe your dad wouldn’t have to steal them.”
“It’s rude to leave a guest alone. Especially if they’re cooking.”
“My plan had been to build up a stockpile and go join the fun, but a little mouse keeps eating through it.”
“You’re eating as many as I am. And my parents keep stealing them too.”
“Yeah,” Eugene smiled. “That’s about how it goes at home too. Best intentions rarely work with delicious food.”
Which was why burgers ended up being brought into the kitchen to eat as more fries came out of the vat.
“Next time, we should set up the fryer outside,” Dad said as the last of the food was polished off. “We’ve got an outlet by the grill.”
“Good plan,” Eugene agreed.
It seemed inevitable a next time would come.
Eugene insisted on helping clean the kitchen, which meant Jesse was stuck helping too. He couldn’t look lazy in front of a guest, but the kitchen wasn’t his domain after meals any more than it was before them.
“You boys give a shout if you need anything,” Dad said as the dishwasher was turned on and the kitchen lights turned down.
“Thanks, Coach,” Eugene said. “And it was nice to meet you, Sam.”
Jesse wondered if his parents noticed the half-second gap between you and his mother’s name, like Eugene had to catch himself before Mrs. Coste-ing her. Whether or not they noticed, it made Jesse smile.
The smile vanished as Mom handed a stapled stack of papers to Eugene and turned her freed hand on Jesse’s head to mess up his hair.
“That was a beautiful essay, Jesse,” she said, forcing him to duck away and try to bat her away. “You should be proud of yourself. And I expect to see more of your essays in the future—I might actually stand a chance of understanding what’s happening with them.”
“Sure, whatever,” Jesse mumbled, wishing his mom could have chosen a time not right in front of Eugene to be so mushy.
“You’re too brilliant for me,” Mom said fondly, reaching to rearrange a strand of hair she’d messed up in the first place.
“Isn’t it your bedtime?”
“Goodnight, Jesse,” Mom said with a kiss to the side of his head that was definitely to embarrass him.
“Love you, Jesse. You two get some sleep tonight and maybe we can fence again in the morning.”
Jesse had no choice but to return a quick love you and goodnight.
When his parents were finally gone, Jesse turned slowly to Eugene. He was smiling to himself and already turning the page of Jesse’s essay.
“Oh my god, it’s not that impressive,” Jesse groaned, unable to keep himself from snatching for the essay.
“Hey, I was reading that,” Eugene protested. “I wasn’t even being annoying about it!”
“My mom was annoying enough for the both of you.”
“That’s not fair. And you know it’s a topic I’m interested in—it’s cruel to keep it from me.”
That was one of the reasons he’d been hesitant to let Eugene read it in the first place. He hadn’t expected his dad to put it up on the fridge just because he’d bragged about his grade on it a little bit. But he felt self-conscious sharing it with Eugene who was obviously more knowledgeable on the topic. Eugene didn’t seem to care about his feelings at all.
As Eugene made a move for the essay, Jesse did the most impulsively childish thing he could have: he held it up out of Eugene’s reach.
“We’re going to play it that way, huh?” Eugene asked before catching Jesse around the middle and plowing him over the back of the couch.
Jesse had to swallow his scream, letting it out as a squeaked gasp instead. Eugene got the essay.
“That’s—playing dirty,” Jesse accused, trying to untangle from the upside-down jumble Eugene had left him in. “I’m not one of your wrestling bros, Eugene, you can’t just bull me over! I’m—!”
“Fragile?” Eugene finished with a raised eyebrow. “Delicate? Dainty?”
“You wouldn’t be making fun if you’d broken me. Or the couch.”
“Dude, I saw you climb all over that thing like three times.”
“I don’t climb like some child on monkey bars. I was sitting on it.”
“Weird definition of sitting, but whatever.”
Eugene sat up on the back of the couch the way Jesse had a couple of times. But he fell backward, landing next to Jesse with legs up over the backrest. Jesse had only fallen partially once. And he hadn’t thought Eugene had seen that.
Eugene gave him a winning smile before making a production of flipping the pages of Jesse’s essay, holding it overhead as he read. Jesse felt brimming with anxiety as he did.
“I only wrote on the history of colonization in the Philippines because of you,” Jesse blurted, feeling the need to explain himself. But as he said it, he realized how that sounded so he hurried to explain further. “I mean that you’re so passionate about it and told me so much that isn’t even in the textbook and I thought it was really interesting. That’s all.”
Eugene turned his head to look at Jesse and when Jesse gave up and turned his head to look back, he found a subdued smile.
“This is really cool,” Eugene said, essay coming to rest in his chest under a hand guarding it from Jesse’s clutches. “I’m not a brilliant writer or anything, but this essay’s really good. Thanks for it—for listening to me, I mean. And, I don’t know, finding value in what I say.”
Jesse stared stupidly at Eugene’s soft brown eyes and gentle smile and felt his words curl up in his chest warmly.
“I like fencing with you,” Jesse told him, turning his gaze back up to the ceiling. “And I like talking with you too. As a person.”
“Yeah,” Eugene agreed. “I like Jesse Coste the person.”
“Tell me more about the Philippines,” Jesse requested. “You said your grandparents were from there? Have you ever been?”
“A couple of times. My grandparents take us on trips every couple of years.”
“Your voice says you love it there.”
Eugene looked at Jesse carefully. Jesse refused to be embarrassed for the strange statement.
“I do. I think anyone would.”
“Do they do any fencing?”
Eugene grinned.
“Of course you’d ask that.”
“I do a lot of traveling for competitions. I wondered if I might end up there for one.”
“They do have fencing but I’ll be honest, I’ve never checked out the clubs there before. Fencing isn’t my top priority when visiting. Usually. But it’d be cool if you ended up there.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Only if you tell me about all your traveling.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” Jesse smiled. “But I suppose since you twisted my arm, I’ll agree.”
“That’s good, because I’d probably rip your arm off if you made me twist it harder. You’re delicate like that, you know.”
“Shut up or I’ll kick you out.”
Eugene laughed. But he didn’t shut up. He talked about his family and his visits to his grandparent’s home in the Philippines and he asked about Jesse’s family in France and about his competitions.
They talked until the sky went dark and eventually, Jesse started to get lightheaded from hanging partially off the couch with head and hair being pulled down toward the ground. It wasn’t a very graceful scramble to sit upright again, but Eugene didn’t pass comment. Though his smirk into Jesse’s paper made him sure he’d seen.
“It’s getting late,” Jesse said.
“Is it?”
“Yes, it’s past nine.”
“On a weekend.”
“And we’ll be fencing in the morning.”
“Point taken,” Eugene sighed as if the promise of fencing was burdensome. But he stood and followed Jesse back up the stairs.
“You can sleep in the guest room I showed you,” Jesse said, pausing as they passed the door because Eugene hadn’t stopped. Maybe he hadn’t recognized it.
Eugene raised an eyebrow, then exhaled a small laugh.
“I keep forgetting your best friend was Seiji. Yeah, I could sleep in there at the obscenely late hour of ten o’clock while you tuck into bed across the house. Or we could set up camp in one room or the other or the living room and put on a bad movie to talk over until we fall asleep on the floor or couch with questionable bedding.”
“That sounds…unappealing in a lot of ways,” Jesse said, meeting Eugene’s easy smile with pursed lips. “We’ve got a theatre room, for starters. I have standards and I don’t have time to waste on bad movies. And I don’t know what sleep arrangements you’re used to, but I don’t believe in sleeping on the floor with a jacket for a pillow.”
“Got it. So we grab some proper bedding, head to the theatre room—which, of course, you have—and pick a good movie to talk over.”
Jesse considered it. Then nodded. They raided the guest bedroom, then tripped down the stairs with arms overflowing with blankets and pillows, trying not to laugh. There wasn’t any reason at all to be laughing like children over hoarding blankets and snacks, but somehow running around the dark house with Eugene made him feel that giddy sneaking-out-to-see-Santa-on-Christmas-Eve feeling bubbling up in his chest.
They made a nest of bedding in the reclined chairs in the theatre room, armrests up to create a bigger, shared monstrosity.
“How do you work this thing?” Eugene asked once they were physically set up.
“Oh, I have no idea,” Jesse admitted. “I usually use the theatre room with my parents. If I need it for my own use, I just ask my dad to set it up for me.” Eugene stared at him so incredulously, Jesse felt his skin start to heat. “What?” Jesse demanded.
“You are so spoiled. My little brother can turn on his Power Rangers without help, how do you not know how to use your own TV?”
“I know how to use the TV,” Jesse bristled. “But the theatre room is different.”
Eugene’s incredulous stare was falling into an amused, almost humoring, sort of smile. He didn’t reply to Jesse.
“I guess we’ll do the age-old method of pressing buttons randomly and hoping for the best.”
It took a lot of buttons, and their first victory was short-lived when the regency drama Jesse wanted to watch refused to yield any sound. It turned out the sound system was set up separately.
“See?” Jesse asked when the show finally gained audio. “It’s complicated.”
“I figured it out in an hour. You’ve never bothered to figure it out in years.”
“Just for that, I’ll make you come start the thing whenever I need it if it’s so easy.”
“That is entirely not the point,” Eugene laughed. “But this is a pretty sweet setup. I get to pick the next movie.”
“This is a series.”
“Do we have to watch the whole thing before I get to choose?”
“Yes.”
“You know, it just occurred to me that I’m the one who knows how to use this thing. It doesn’t matter what you want.”
“Of course it does!” Jesse protested as Eugene, laughing, exited out of Jesse’s show. Jesse lunged to get the remote, but that did very little besides getting him all tangled up with Eugene.
All at once, Jesse was very aware of his body and entirely uninterested in the remote. He didn’t generally get close to people like this. Tangling bodies weren’t natural at all to him, and he felt lost with what to do with Eugene. Because, somehow, he kept ending up wrestling with him when such behavior had never been his style.
Feeling awkward and sure Eugene could see it, Jesse peeled away from Eugene and threw himself back into his nest. Eugene was still laughing, but it was softer. Jesse felt again like he was being humored, or something close to it. All day, Eugene kept wearing a secret expression that he’d never seen before. One that came on when Jesse asked for his sunglasses and sat on the counter as Eugene peeled potatoes and here it was again as Eugene returned to Jesse’s show and settled back in comfortably to snag a bite of popcorn from the bowl between them.
The bowl emptied quickly, and the show progressed just as fast. If Jesse’s eyes weren’t drooping, he’d have thought they might actually get to Eugene’s movie tonight.
Not that Eugene seemed to mind watching the drama instead. He was at least as invested as Jesse was, and he didn’t seem to be dozing off watching it. But he paused the show anyway and sank down under the mess of blankets.
“I was watching that,” Jesse told him.
“No you weren’t. We can finish it later when you’re not sleeping.”
“Put on your movie then. I’m sure I’ll be fine to sleep through that.”
“Just for that, I’m going to find a movie so good you’ll be forced to stay awake to watch it.”
“Good luck.”
Jesse watched Eugene go to the animated movies and start his search. He almost warned Eugene that those were all too childish for him, but he let Eugene dig his own grave. Jesse did indeed start falling asleep as the movie Eugene selected began, but the music was so jarring that it jolted him awake.
“What is even happening?” Jesse asked. “Who is that man? And what’s with the little bat?”
That expression. Again.
Jesse liked it better than the melancholy that had originally drawn him to Eugene. He just didn’t understand it any better than he’d understood what it was Eugene was feeling to look like that—and why he felt like it too.
Eugene answered all of Jesse’s questions, and continued to as Jesse found more to ask. He didn’t fall asleep again. Not through the entire movie.
“Earlier, you implied Seiji stayed in guest rooms when he slept over,” Jesse said over the rolling credits, staring up at the ceiling in the dark room. He didn’t know why he was speaking at all. “He didn’t. We were close and we were best friends since we were in Kindergarten.”
“I guess that makes sense. However you fit with Seiji, it’s gotta be like starting over now, not knowing how to fit with anyone else. I get that.”
“You’ll fit in at Exton.”
“Yeah, maybe. And you’re still whole without Seiji.”
“It doesn’t feel like it,” Jesse admitted, hearing Eugene shift in the reclined seat next to his. “Even when I’m happy. Even when I’m with—other people.” He’d almost said you. “It still feels like part of me is missing.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re not still whole.”
“If part of me is missing, then how can I be?”
“You were used to having two hearts, but you were only born with one. You feel the loss now because you’re back down to one after years of sharing two.”
“That’s pretty. You should be a poet.”
“Giving up on me so easily?” Eugene asked, voice shifting to warm humor. “What happened to training me up to fence on your team?”
“If you can captain three sports teams, ace social studies, and bulk up in the gym so much, I’m sure adding poet to the mix won’t take any more away from fencing either.”
“I’ll keep it in mind when I need a new hobby. You’ll be top of the list for invitations to my first poetry slam.”
“Sounds awful.”
“Then let’s fence instead.”
“Sounds better.”
“Thought so.”
With that, sleep seemed to settle over them like falling snow lighting on eyelashes and subtly but surely weighing them down.
“Eugene?” Jesse asked when he was mostly asleep.
“Huh?”
“Have you ever shared two hearts?”
“No. But I’d like to. Someday.”
“Me too,” Jesse yawned. “But I guess I should learn to live with one first.”
Notes:
for those curious, they watched
Chapter Text
Eugene woke up with no blankets to his name, but he was perfectly warm. Apparently, Jesse was a snugglebug. And as if aware of Eugene’s thoughts, Jesse began to stir, face burrowing into his chest with a groan that made it clear what he thought about waking up.
At Eugene’s laugh, Jesse jerked awake fully and sat up fast enough to cause whiplash. Eugene laughed again at Jesse’s face, which was stricken with alarm and the shade of pink Eugene was beginning to associate with him.
“I—why are you so soft?” Jesse asked with accusation. “I thought you were a pillow!”
“Muscle’s soft when not flexed,” Eugene said with a shrug as he sat up. “The reason I hit the gym so hard is actually to obtain the perfect bod for hugs. So thanks for noticing,” he grinned.
“That’s not fair! I didn’t mean to!”
“What’s not fair is you stealing all the blankets.”
“It’s not my fault you couldn’t hang on to them.” Jesse groaned again, face burying in hands. “Sorry.”
“You’re forgiven. I didn’t need the blankets anyway,” Eugene said despite knowing damn well what Jesse was apologizing for. He scuffed a hand through Jesse’s perfectly messy hair. “Hey, don’t worry about it. It happens.”
“Does it?”
“Sure, I’ve shared beds with my guys before. It gets cramped.”
Although that was usually in the way of limbs flung all over the place and half-awake struggles for space. It would have been weird waking up with Brad or Julian snuggled up on his chest, but Jesse…it didn’t feel strange to be so close. Maybe because they were already so tangled up emotionally, it felt natural to tangle together like this too.
“Do you know something, Jesse?” Eugene said because it felt like a thought to be shared.
“What?” Jesse asked into his hands.
“I think you’re my best friend.”
That got Jesse out of his hands to gape at Eugene instead. Eugene shrugged again, offering a smile.
“It doesn’t matter if I’m not yours, but you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever known and I really needed that. Needed you.”
“I’m…not good at the best friends thing,” Jesse said cautiously. “And I still miss Seiji every day.”
“I know.”
“But you’re different too. And I need you as much as I needed him. And it scares me a little.”
Eugene nodded.
“I’m not Seiji. I don’t need what he needed from you. I don’t see you the way he did either. I’m just…here. And happy about it.”
Jesse nodded.
“I’m glad,” he said eventually, “that I’m your best friend.”
Eugene smiled, letting Jesse know that was all he needed.
“Let’s go find some breakfast before fencing,” he said, stretching as he stood. He noticed Jesse looking quickly away again.
“I hope you’re not worn out from yesterday because we’re not going easy today.”
“What did I tell you about endurance, Jess?” Eugene asked with a grin, offering a hand to help Jesse up. “I’ve got more of it than you can handle.”
Jesse scoffed but let Eugene help him up.
The kitchen was empty when they got upstairs and Jesse explained that his mom wasn’t a morning person.
“And Dad will want to stay in bed with her for another hour or so because she’s been working extra lately.”
“Then I’ll whip up some breakfast.”
“You really jump at every opportunity to cook, don’t you?” Jesse asked, eyebrow raising.
“I guess. It’s just something I like to do. My dad’s a chef, but it’s my mom that taught me to cook. At home, it’s me and her that rule the kitchen.”
“You love them a lot, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.”
“I’d like to meet them. You’ve met my parents, so it’s only fair you take me home too.”
Eugene paused, caught off guard by the request. He didn’t bring a lot of people home, even friends. He was social and had large circles of friends, but few of them were the type of friends that carried between contexts.
“They’ll love you,” Eugene said with a broad, unstoppable smile. “But my siblings might eat you alive.”
“They can’t be that bad.”
“They’re great. But we’ll see how you handle them, I guess. Wanna come over next Friday after fencing at the club?”
“Who says I’ll be at the club?”
“You’re always at the club.”
Jesse frowned, as if he had to think about it.
“Alright, have it your way,” he declared. “But we’re showering at the club first.”
“Deal. Now, breakfast.”
“What are you making?”
“I was thinking sinangag.”
“What’s that?”
“Fried egg and garlic rice with—”
“Eugene, I don’t want to give you the wrong idea. No matter how close of friends we are, I will not be eating garlic rice for breakfast. I want something light and fluffy.”
“And sweet,” Eugene said with a shake of his head. “On it.”
Doing a quick check through the kitchen, Eugene determined that he could make yema balls. While not technically a breakfast food, the dessert met Jesse’s criteria well enough and was easy to make.
Just as he’d done last night, Jesse hung about by—and on—the counter as Eugene combined condensed milk, egg yolks, and butter in a sauce pan, talking as he watched contentedly.
When the mixture came off the stove, Eugene did a thorough wash of his hands and let it cool just enough to portion out and form into balls with the quick efficiency of practice.
Jesse watched with interest, and when Eugene brought the last ball to Jesse’s mouth, it opened with surprise. But as he took the remaining bite from Eugene, a sound of approval accompanied it.
“That’s really good,” Jesse said, reaching for another. He didn’t make much of an effort to reach the plate, so Eugene pushed it over to him. Then caught himself doing exactly what everyone else seemed to do where Jesse was involved and swiped the plate away. “Hey!”
“What do you say?” Eugene asked with a grin.
“That you’re being difficult again. Stop goofing off and give me that.”
“Please?” Eugene prompted as Jesse huffed.
“Fine. Please.”
“Easy as that.” Eugene yielded the plate, stealing a ball for himself.
“It would have been easier if you’d just given it to me in the first place.” Jesse tossed his hair and took another bite, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he savored the treat. Eugene had never known anyone who made sweets look so appealing. With reactions like that, Eugene was sure he’d be supplying this boy with more sweets for—
Months? Years?
Where did this relationship lead after August?
“Eugene?”
“Huh?” Eugene asked, tearing out of his thoughts to meet Jesse’s crunched brows.
“Are you…okay?”
“Great, really. This has been fun.”
Jesse nodded slowly, but his suspicion was clear enough in his eyes. Jesse could read Eugene’s emotions too well. Somehow, he was the only person outside of Eugene’s ma that always could, even from the very start.
“I’m not saying your company has swayed my loyalties, but if I were seriously aiming for Exton, where would you put my chances?” Eugene asked.
Jesse’s suspicious squint turned to widening eyes. Surprise that Eugene was asking directly. And maybe something else too. Something like excitement. But Jesse schooled his expression back into that of a captain.
“You could easily take the captaincy at Kings Row next year,” Jesse said, completely throwing Eugene off. “Your fencing has improved exponentially—you could out-fence anyone on your old team seven out of ten times, except for Seiji. And you’re good with the kids at the club. You’d be a good captain. And you could make Kings Row’s team better. They’d be lucky to have you.”
Eugene was fully incapable of speech. Finally, he cleared his throat and the words came.
“Thank you,” he said earnestly. “From you, that means…a lot. More than I can say.” Jesse nodded smartly in acknowledgment. “But my question was about your team.”
“Exton is above your level,” Jesse said bluntly. Then he pushed off the counter and turned to Eugene with a winning smile. “But I can get you there. Let’s go fence.”
Chapter Text
When Jesse stepped out of the shower, Eugene was smirking. And fully dressed.
“Some of us do more than rinse in the shower,” Jesse informed him. “I bet you still smell like sweat.”
“Oh yeah?” Eugene grinned, closing in on Jesse. “Wanna do a test sniff?”
“Absolutely not!” Jesse gasped, holding up hands to ward Eugene away as he turned his head.
Eugene didn’t actually look like he’d smell bad, but Jesse hardly wanted his face squished into Eugene’s body, no matter how pleasant he smelled. None of Jesse’s friends had ever been so physical. Wrestling and tomfoolery just wasn’t in his repertoire and he intended to keep it that way.
Laughing, Eugene relented, holding up hands in surrender and backing away.
“I’ll let you get dressed,” he said. “If you grab your clothes now, I can take your things to my car.”
Clothes.
Jesse was still in his towel. And Eugene had meant to rough house with him anyway. That could have been a disaster. But at least Eugene had seen sense in the end. He still narrowed his eyes as he pulled the neatly folded pile of fresh clothes from his bag and replaced his toiletries in the waterproof travel bag.
“See you in a bit,” Eugene said, hoisting Jesse’s bag over his shoulder and heading to the locker room door, giving Jesse privacy to get dressed.
Eugene’s car was a beast. Eugene had to open the passenger door for him because Jesse couldn’t make it budge on his own. The inside wasn’t any more promising.
“I should have driven,” Jesse said doubtfully, noting the broken handle of his door as he buckled in.
“Too late,” Eugene said cheerfully. “You’re trapped now.”
“I can see that.”
“This is a great car. Sturdy and reliable as anything you’ll ever find. She’s just a little rough looking. But she’s made it through everything she’s gone through better than most.”
“What have you put it through to make it so…rough?” Jesse asked.
“Most of it’s not my fault. Just age and a lot of cousins.”
“Cousins?”
“Yup. I bought this off one when I got my license. Got it for cheap with the agreement he could borrow it for camping trips.”
“Are you close with your cousins?”
“They’re family,” he shrugged. “And friends. I love them, but we’re not close the way I am with my siblings. You and Kyle are though, aren’t you?”
“Kyle? How do you know about him?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Eugene asked. They were on the road now or Jesse was sure Eugene would have flashed him a hiked-up eyebrow and quirked grin. “Kyle talks about you all the time. It’s annoying.”
Jesse frowned.
“He’s not annoying.”
“That’s the hill you want to die on?”
“Yes. I wish everyone would stop saying that he is.”
“Dude, you can love someone and acknowledge they’re annoying. And kind of a dick.”
“He’s not to me. He comes up to the lake house with me and Dad and we always have fun. Ever since we were little, we’ve always gotten along.”
“So you’re close.”
“Not like me and Seiji were. Not like you and your siblings seem to be. But yes, we fence and go fishing frequently.”
“I think he needs to learn how to chill a little bit and you need to learn how to socialize without using fencing as a crutch.”
“I just said we go fishing,” Jesse protested.
“And? Do you two talk about anything other than fencing while you fish?”
Jesse couldn’t deny the implied accusation.
“Fine, I’ll ask him about school or something next time I see him.”
“There we go,” Eugene said with enthusiasm that was somehow teasing and sincere at once. “Maybe he’ll get less annoying about you if you make an effort to be his friend and not just his perfect cousin.”
Jesse knew Kyle talked about him, but it had never bugged him. After all, Jesse bragged about his dad too—maybe not as frequently as Kyle relayed stories about him, but it just meant Kyle was proud of him.
“I don’t think I’m better than him,” Jesse said, feeling defensive against Eugene’s comments. “I mean—yes, I’m a better fencer, but I never thought I was too good to be his friend.”
“Sure, but it’s hard to be friends with someone you’ve idolized.”
“It’s not my fault he idolizes me. I never asked for anyone to decide I’m unattainable as a friend.”
“No,” Eugene agreed. “But it’s still something you need to work at if you want it to change. And you don’t discourage people from adoring you—don’t lie, you thrive on attention. And I don’t mean that as an insult.”
Whether it was meant as an insult or not, it still felt like being chastised to Jesse. It wasn’t good form to bask in attention and Jesse knew it. But he was an excellent fencer.
“I don’t see why I can’t have both,” Jesse sighed, feeling petulant. “Why is it that if I want to be acknowledged as the best, I’m put on a pedestal that’s to tall for anyone to climb and casts too big a shadow for anyone to want to stand next to? And now you’ve put me in a bad mood!”
Eugene laughed. Jesse’s mood worsened.
“Okay, okay, I’ll tone it down with the hard life advice. But your annoying cousin definitely doesn’t mind your shadow. And your teammates are at least climbing up to stand on your level.”
“And you?”
Eugene grinned.
“And I don’t mind yanking you off the pedestal when you need to come back to earth. My point is, you should try meeting people halfway. And sometimes fencing might not be the thing to bridge that gap with, you know?”
“You said you were done with life advice.”
“I am.”
“Good. I hate it.”
A hand came at Jesse blindly to find his hair and ruffle through it.
“What can I do to put you in a better mood?”
“That’s not a question you can just ask,” Jesse scowled. “It’s not like I have an answer for it.”
“You said your cousin likes to play poker. Do you play with him?”
“Yes. We used to play for snacks,” Jesse recalled.
“So you learned it pretty young, huh?”
“I suppose.”
“What do you play for now?”
Jesse shrugged.
“Gossip, sometimes. Or fencing paraphernalia. And snacks still make the cut too.”
“What gossip have you had to divulge?” Eugene asked.
Jesse smirked.
“None, personally. But I have plenty of interesting gossip on other people.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
Jesse settled in to tell Eugene the story about the boy at Worlds last year who’d gone missing and caused a panic among his coaches only to show up to the bout with his first opponent.
“And here we are,” Eugene declared, pulling them into the driveway two-thirds of the way up a little hill. “Brace yourself.”
Before Jesse could ask whether that was a joke, Eugene was gone. And then back, this time at his door, pulling it open.
“You don’t really think it’ll go poorly, do you?” Jesse asked, climbing out.
“It’ll be fun, don’t sweat it,” Eugene said, which didn’t reassure Jesse much at all.
But before anything more could be said on the matter, the front door was opening and a woman with Eugene’s eyes was offering him a familiar smile. There was no mistaking who she was.
“Hey, Ma,” Eugene greeted with a broad grin and an open arm that easily answered her own request for a hug. But the greeting was brief and the smile soon turned to Jesse and his open arm was ushering Jesse forward. “This is Jesse.”
“It’s good to meet you, Jesse,” Eugene’s mother said in a soft voice that felt reassuring despite there being no need for assurances of any kind. “Eugene speaks very fondly of you. I’m Elizabeth. My husband, Kit, will be home any time now, and the kids are all in the living room.”
“Thank you for having me,” Jesse said, stepping carefully into the house and stooping to untie his shoes after his warm smile was returned.
“Come on, I’ll introduce you to the crew,” Eugene said, guiding him into the house and to a wide central room that was comfortably packed with furniture and people.
“Wait,” Jesse ground to a halt. “I left my phone in the car.”
“I’ll grab it,” Eugene said, then called to his siblings before turning back for the door. “Hey, you lot, say hi!”
“Eugene says you’re a great fencer,” the littlest one said, popping up on his knees to look over the back of the couch. Jesse waited for the boy to finish his thought.
“I’ve competed globally since I was your age,” Jesse said when nothing more was added to the declaration.
“And how often do you win?” a bored teenager in a purple hoodie asked from the armchair. She was the only girl of the bunch.
“Quite often.”
A popped bubble emphasized the girl’s faith in that. Or perhaps her admiration.
“I want to be a fencer too,” the boy said, ignoring his sister’s input.
“Except for when you want to be a soccer player or a basketball star,” a different boy piped up.
“Eugene does baseball and hockey. I can play three sports too.”
“Eugene is also insane,” the sister said. “You’re supposed to focus on one thing and get good at it. Isn’t that right, Number One?”
A flash of her phone screen showed a beaming picture of him under his father’s arm at last year’s national competition.
“I didn’t think Gene was serious when he said you were the best.”
“You’ve had weeks to do your homework, Lunes,” Eugene said, coming up behind Jesse. Finally. “It’s rude to Google people right in front of their face.”
“I don’t mind,” Jesse said, caught in an unexpected glow.
“Show off,” Eugene huffed softly, shaking his head. But it wasn’t the article Jesse was pleased by. He was the best, and objective sources would always report that. But people weren’t so objective, and Eugene had reported the same anyway.
“Can you show me your best moves?” the aspiring fencer asked. Jesse didn’t comment on the odd way of describing fencing, like it was some dance he could show off moves to.
“I haven’t got any of my stuff,” he said instead.
“I can take you to see him fence sometime, Fritz,” Eugene said. “Nationals are coming up quick. Now, did any of you little heathens introduce yourselves?”
“Your fancy friend didn’t either,” a new boy said, a mischievous note of humor in his voice Jesse recognized from his big brother.
“Then I guess he already fits right in. So here we go, then. This is Jesse. Jesse, that’s Luna on the chair, Fritz climbing over the couch, Marcus next to him, and Junior on the floor.”
Jesse was sure he’d lose track of them immediately, but he smiled and nodded like he was confident in his ability to identify them once they scrambled positions anyway.
Eugene pulled him to the couch, shooing his brothers to one end of it as he nabbed the remote. To Jesse’s surprise, Eugene turned the TV off rather than find a suitable show for background noise.
“Marcus, go grab the cards,” he said, garnering the vague interest of all the room.
“Why?”
“Jesse’s gonna teach us how to play poker.”
“I am?” Jesse asked. Then, “You don’t know how to play?”
“Not yet. But we love a good game in this household.”
“What’re we betting with?” Luna asked. She’d actually sat up, phone lowered, clearly debating if she was going to buy into this.
“I’ve been told snacks and gossip are the standard currency.”
“Do I get the gossip on credit?”
“What, to pull out and use when you need it?”
“That’s clever,” Jesse said as Luna nodded.
“Gossip on credit it is,” Eugene laughed.
“Bring it, Blondie,” Luna said with a devilish grin, phone abandoned on her chair as she gathered around the coffee table with the rest.
Jesse was handed a deck of cards and given the floor. He could see why Eugene had warned him about his siblings—they were loud and rowdy and nosy. He was bombarded with questions about everything from crushes and cars when their chips were finally cashed in at the end of the night. He was more concerned about Luna’s winnings, which she’d taken as credit.
But it was a fun sort of boisterous, and Jesse enjoyed playing until they were summoned for dinner, which wasn’t much quieter than the game had been. He was so entangled in so many conversations the entire time that he didn’t even have the space to wonder if he’d made a good impression.
Chapter Text
“Skipping out on legs?” Eugene asked Seiji as he strode across the weight room after an abridged routine.
They shared the place so frequently in the early mornings that Eugene knew Seiji’s whole regirme. They’d exchanged tips a couple of times. Even though he wasn’t Seiji’s teammate anymore, he still liked the guy. And Eugene had gained a new affection for him in the months since he’d found Jesse. Eugene could see that, despite his terrible coping mechanisms, Jesse still genuinely cared about Seiji. And even if it hurt to know he was happy without him, Eugene was sure Jesse wanted that for Seiji. So Eugene smiled for the both of them whenever he talked to Seiji and understood that he was happy here.
Even if he was scowling at this particular moment.
“I haven’t got time for a proper workout. Thanks to Nicholas’s idiocy, we’ve got morning detention with Coach Williams.”
“What the hell did you do?” Eugene asked with a whistle. “She doesn’t like punishments that require her management.”
“We got into something of an argument and…”
“Yeah?”
“We knocked over a rack of school blades and not all of them fared well under our weight.”
Eugene laughed, imagining the tackle that must have caused the disaster. He wondered what the cause of attack had been.
“So what’s the sentence?”
“Salvaging what blades we can,” Seiji said unhappily. “And repairing replacements from the pile of defective blades Coach Williams has apparently been ignoring for two years.”
“Do you know how to do repairs?” Eugene asked curiously. Coach had been showing him and Jesse around the armory lately, and Eugene enjoyed the work.
Seiji’s scowl deepened.
“No. Nicholas has some rudimentary skills, or so he claims. But if he learned them wherever he learned fencing—well, I’m not hopeful he’ll be any use.”
“I could take a look with you,” Eugene offered.
“Would your presence be useful?” Seiji asked, sparking a new laugh as Eugene stood up to put his weights away.
“At least as helpful as Nick’s.”
“That is a very low bar.”
Seiji didn’t protest when Eugene followed him to the salle, though Eugene hesitated before stepping through the double doors. It had been months since he’d been here. He expected it to hurt, stepping back through time.
The salle was empty but fully lit, and as Eugene walked through it to the hallway that would take them to the cramped armory, he saw the broken shelf Seiji had alluded to.
“That was a pretty big knock,” Eugene said, eyebrows raised. “What happened?”
“Seiji’s a sore loser.”
Turning back to the hall, Eugene grinned to find Nick standing in the doorway.
“Not so,” Seiji said darkly. “I simply dislike cheaters.”
“You won against Seiji?” Eugene asked Nick. “I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be,” Seiji said before Nick could respond. “I beat him by two points in a bout to five.”
“It’s not cheating to hit when you were distracted.”
“Talking isn’t allowed during active fencing in competitions. You cheated.”
“Sore loser,” Nick said to Eugene with a get a load of this guy roll of his eyes.
“Before you break anything else, let’s check for how much more you can afford to, yeah?” Eugene suggested, catching Seiji’s shoulder to dissuade the tension in his body from springing.
Nick turned and waved them to follow. He’d already started sorting through the pile of spare parts, and Eugene found the discarded blades to check over. Anything he thought he could handle repairs for, he put aside. Anything he thought he couldn’t, he took mental note of to ask Coach about later.
Seiji supervised them both with as much enthusiasm as Williams did when she appeared with coffee in hand. She raised eyebrows at Seiji, clearly noting his lack of participation in his punishment but said nothing.
She must have figured that having to listen to Nick explain anything to him was punishment enough. Not that Seiji was a good student. He wouldn’t do anything Nick asked him to. Eugene didn’t even try telling Seiji what to do.
“What did you say to him?” Eugene had to ask as they examined a snapped sabre grimly while Seiji spoke inaudible to Williams.
“Ah—remember how we were taking stock of what’s left to break before we get into another fight? I don’t think we’ve got enough left to break for a repeat of the conversation.”
“That bad?”
Nick’s eyes flicked to Seiji. Then away. He was still preoccupied with Williams and not listening to the current conversation.
“He was acting all superior and like fencing me was a burden. We’re regularly paired up, you know? Almost default partners, I guess. And he’s such an ass about having to partner with me.” Nick shrugged “I just said how it must be nice to be on that side of the relationship for once, getting to make someone feel small and pathetic instead of playing that part for Jesse.”
Eugene grimaced. He knew neither boy would be happy with that assessment of their relationship.
“It’s far from pathetic to keep fencing against someone better than you, working to improve.”
“Tell that to Seiji.”
“Tell what to Seiji?” the boy in question asked, focusing back in on them. It was lucky he’d only decided to pay attention now.
“That fencing doesn’t happen in shadows so you should stop watching them and just focus on the épée in your hand and the flesh and blood opponent in front of you. And that goes for both of you.”
“Save your poetry for English class, Eugene,” Nick said with a snort.
Eugene kept a small and secret laugh to himself.
“And to think I was going to invite you to my poetry slam.”
It took half a second before Nick started laughing—just long enough to check over Eugene’s face in horror, searching for a joke. He found it. Seiji, though, remained quiet, frowning at Eugene. Contemplative.
“Alright, you three,” Williams said, appearing in the doorway, “clean up and head on to breakfast.”
They did as told, storing away their work and—or Nick and Eugene stored away their work while Seiji watched—and left the salle.
“Not that I’m complaining that you came to help, but where the hell did Seiji find you?” Nick asked as they left.
“In the gym like every morning.”
“What? Since when do you get up so early?”
“Since November,” Seiji answered for him.
“I didn’t know that.”
Eugene only heard the words in the periphery of his mind, realizing his pocket was suspiciously empty.
“Shit—you two go ahead. I left my phone.”
“Bye, Eugene, thanks for the help,” Nick called over his shoulder.
“Yes,” Seiji agreed. “You were very helpful.”
Eugene offered a nod and wave before dashing back down the path to the salle. He’d miss breakfast if he wasn’t fast.
He didn’t even need to jog halfway back before running into Coach Williams, who held up his phone with a raised eyebrow. Covering the ground between them, Eugene took it gratefully.
“Thank you,” he said, tucking it away. “Can’t believe I forgot it.”
Coach Williams nodded slowly.
“You know you’re not banned from the salle, don’t you?” she asked in the matter of fact way she said everything. Like it was a drill you were meant to memorize.
Eugene was struck silent for a moment. He hadn’t thought anyone noticed his absence there.
“Yeah, for sure,” he answered her with a smile. “Thanks, Coach Williams.”
But as Eugene turned his back to Williams and her domain, he was sure he wouldn’t be back. Kings Row’s salle didn’t feel like his anymore. When Eugene thought of fencing, he thought of the sleek electric pistes and mirrored walls his Levi jacket had a habit of getting forgotten in, tucked in a locker labeled Eugene Labao. He thought of the dark wood walls and soaring windows that housed his coach’s echoing voice and his partner’s sweat soaked hair.
Eugene left Kings Row’s salle behind him, knowing he belonged somewhere else now. And there was a bittersweet taste in his mouth as he did.
Chapter Text
“It’s time we start thinking about next year,” Coach Donati said with a gesture for Jesse to stay. He fought to keep his eyes from darting to the clock, checking the time. The beginner class at the club would be starting in an hour and the drive ate up forty minutes of that—plus he still needed to shower and change.
“Yes,” Jesse said, “I agree.”
He did. But this conversation would have been more convenient if Coach Donati had pulled him out of class this morning. He followed her to her office anyway, shooting off a quick text.
Jesse took a seat across from his coach and waited for her to direct the conversation.
“We can assume the twins will return next year, but we’re losing Marcel. His graduation will be a hit to our performance.”
Jesse nodded. Marcel had been at Exton before Jesse came—he’d never captained the team without his first fencer.
“We had some promising fencers at tryouts,” Jesse said thoughtfully, thinking back to August. “But none as highly ranked as Marcel or even the twins.”
“We need skill over rank. No one will measure up to Marcel in that. Unless you can convince members of Kings Row or Halverton to transfer.” She said it like it was an impossibility. And it was—what she was implying was, in any case.
“To be frank, Coach Donati, I’m not optimistic about finding a replacement judging from this year’s turnout. Unless next year brings in a miracle freshman, the rest of us will have to work double time to cover for Marcel’s loss.”
Coach Donati’s deepened frown was a sign of her agreement.
“A proper upbringing and the best instruction can’t stoke a spark that’s not there.”
“None of them have it,” Jesse stated the obvious. “Not with the kind of potential we need.”
Coach Donati raised an eyebrow. Jesse had given something away.
“Tell me what potential you’re thinking of, Jesse.”
Jesse had meant to prepare better for this. He’d wanted to work with Eugene a little more before proposing anything to his coach.
“There’s a boy that’s a little rough around the edges,” Jesse said carefully. “I’ve been training with him since September under my father. He’s made incredible growth. The kind that doesn’t happen without the fire we need on this team.”
Coach Donati crossed her arms and regarded him.
“Who is this boy you’re so entranced with?” she asked.
“Eugene Labao,” Jesse provided, fully expecting a follow-up explanation to be necessary.
Coach Donati’s face betrayed surprise.
“Kings Row’s spare?” she asked.
“Don’t call him that,” Jesse snapped back without thinking. Quickly, he tried to recover. “I apologize for speaking sharply, but reducing him to that title undermines the fencer that he is. And he’s a good one.”
“He didn’t fence at State,” Coach Donati replied, letting him off for his disrespect. “I don’t need quitters on my team.”
Jesse shook his head.
“He was cut from the team. Williams wanted to maintain a classic team structure of four and kept the other reserve.”
“Nicholas Cox was a risk,” Coach Donati said, nodding slowly. “And your Labao was the safety net for if he didn’t pay off.”
“Yes. But she made a mistake dismissing him.”
“You say he’s been working with your father?”
“Extensively.”
“And what will his analysis be when I call him to discuss this boy’s capabilities?”
“The same thing I will, I expect.”
“Which is?”
“By August, he’ll win a spot on the team.”
“And?”
“And if you’ll allow me permission to train him with the team until then, by August, you’ll be offering him a scholarship to take it.”
Coach Donati’s arching eyebrow this time showed both skepticism and intrigue.
“Very well. You may invite him to our salle, but if he impedes practice at all, I’ll rescind the invitation.”
“Thank you, Coach Donati,” Jesse said with a beaming smile, meaning the thanks as genuinely as he’d ever meant anything.
“If I’m not offering this boy of yours a scholarship come August, Jesse, I’ll be disappointed in you.”
“I won’t disappoint you,” he promised.
He wouldn’t disappoint Eugene.
“Is that him?” Thomas asked.
“Who else would he be?” Aster asked his twin.
“He’s handsome,” Marcel noted. “Pity I’m leaving the team next year.”
“He’s short,” Aster said.
“I don’t mind,” Marcel replied as Thomas said, “He’s our height,” and Jesse said, “Not very.”
“But what about the captain you liked?” Jesse asked. “Harvard.”
“He has something with that Kane boy that I’m not touching with a ten-foot pole. Pity, though,” Marcel sighed. “He was very sweet.”
Eugene was better than his former captain in every way—including weird person-shaped baggage—but Jesse didn’t say.
“Hello, Eugene,” he greeted with a cheery wave before sweeping it into a welcoming gesture over his team. “We’re glad you could make it. This is Marcel, Thomas, and Aster. Marcel, of course, won’t be with us next year, but he has a vested interest in seeing the team succeed beyond him. And the twins will almost certainly be your teammates next year.”
“Great,” Eugene grinned, offering out a hand to each of them. “Thanks for letting me come in today. I really look forward to fencing with you. I promise I won’t slow you down, so just let me know what you need from me. I’m happy to sit out and watch too—there’s a lot I can learn here.”
Marcel nodded approvingly.
“Coach Donati is not gentle,” he said, “but I hear your old coach dumped you right before State, so you must have thick enough skin to survive Donati. I’ll partner with you today. As Jesse says, I’m graduating. I can spare some time to train up my replacement.”
“Perfect,” Eugene said without missing a beat. “I’d hate to miss the opportunity to fence with you before you leave. I’ve caught some of your matches at nationals, and you’ve gotta be the most graceful fencer I’ve ever seen. I could definitely use a little of that.”
It was true. Eugene did have a habit of muscling through things. Sometimes, that served him well, but he needed to know when it did and learn some subtlety and finesse alongside it. Jesse had been working on grace with him for months and he’d made great improvements already. Marcel would be the perfect partner for him, but Jesse kept glancing over to the two of them as practice began anyway, almost feeling nervous.
He worried that nobody else would see what he did in Eugene, that was all.
But if nothing else, the team all saw his easy humor and that brightness that drew all the people at the club to him. He made friends easily, and even Aster laughed at something he said during drills that Jesse was too far away to hear.
For paired exercises, Jesse demonstrated with Coach Donati and then worked with Aster as Thomas lingered to ask her a question. When he returned, Jesse traded out with him and went to circle the room the way he often did. It was just the team today, so there were only two pairs to observe, but he was pleased with both.
Eugene was holding his own—which was easier during paired exercises than fencing, but they were practicing complicated phrases that still required skill to perform.
“You’re a good partner in this,” he heard Marcel say on his third lap. “So many boys do not know how to follow the exercise when they’re not the ones landing the point. It’s good that you do.”
Marcel was not overly generous with compliments and Jesse frowned, remembering his comments on Eugene’s good looks.
“If you pay attention when you’re giving the point, you learn how to draw your opponent and can turn it into something else—just not during the exercise.”
“Well said.”
“Your captain’s the one always saying it,” Eugene replied, easing the frown on Jesse’s face.
Chapter Text
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jesse’s voice accused over the phone.
Eugene winced, tucking it close against his face and trying to obstruct the rowdy celebration over pizza. He suspected he’d get scolded worse for the cheery noise.
“I told you it’s baseball season,” Eugene said lamely. “It’s on the schedule.”
“Labeled baseball. You didn’t mention today was a game.”
“I said I’d be missing fencing,” he defended. “Sorry, I just couldn’t make both happen today. But don’t worry, I’m fully committed to fencing. Next year, I can be a one sport guy.”
“Unlikely,” Jesse snorted. “I think you’d combust without enough enrichment.”
“What am I, a zoo animal?” Eugene laughed.
“I don’t know, do they have jackasses in zoos?”
“Okay, what am I in trouble for?” Eugene asked carefully. “Games are the only thing that should really interfere with fencing, but it seems like that might not be what you’re mad about.”
“You didn’t tell me it was a game day,” Jesse repeated.
“Right,” Eugene said slowly.
“I can excuse not getting invited to football and hockey because those were earlier in the year. But you said I was your best friend. Doesn’t that constitute an invitation?”
Eugene’s mind blanked.
“You…wanted to come?” he asked dumbly. “But you think any sport besides fencing is boring.”
“Dad likes baseball a lot, as a spectator only, obviously. And there are plenty of assets to be appreciated in baseball.” Jesse huffed. “Look, I’m not an all-around sports person, but I’d have at least made the first game of the season.”
“Oh.” Eugene shook himself out of his stupor. “Shit—sorry, Jesse, it didn’t occur to me to invite you. I didn’t think you’d care, but…” Eugene glanced around at all the friends from his baseball team. He thought of his friends on the football team. On the hockey team. On the fencing team. None would have any interest coming to watch any of the others unless they played multiple fields the way he did. It was just his family that made all his games. “But that’s not fair to you,” he finished.
“No,” Jesse agreed. “It’s not. I expect to be invited to your other games. But I’m not wearing any Kings Row paraphernalia. And I can’t make them all,” he was quick to say. “But I’d like to come to some.”
“Yeah—yeah, that’d be great! You could come to the after-parties with us and meet some of the guys. We only lost three games last year.”
Jesse considered for a moment.
“Exton is known for our fencing, we could use a boost in some other areas to get us up to standard. I assume I can count on you to help with that.”
Eugene grinned.
“You won’t be disappointed. I’m much better at my other pursuits than fencing.”
Jesse hmmph’d.
“Then you must be a prodigy. Or you’re still judging yourself with Kings Row’s broken measuring stick.”
“Hey—I know it’s late and a school night, but—” Eugene faltered, ready to backtrack. Jesse had a strict nighttime routine.
“Yes?” Jesse asked.
“I don’t know, I’d like to make it up to you about the game.”
“Eton mess,” Jesse said after a pause. “I have a craving for some. And I’ve got a presentation due Friday I haven’t started yet.”
“Give me an hour?”
“Call when you’re at the dorms.”
Eugene hung up the phone with higher spirits than he’d had coming into the pizza parlor.
“Eugene, why do you look like you’ve just won the lottery?” one of Eugene’s friends from the team, Julian, asked. “Seriously, man, you look happy enough to explode. It’s embarrassing.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t hang around to embarrass you for more than half an hour.”
“Do you know how hard it is to track down Eton mess?” Eugene asked when Jesse picked up the phone.
“Yes.”
“Of course you do. Next time, I’m just making it. Might have taken less time to borrow the Kings Row kitchen tonight too.”
“I did notice you’re late.”
“I just keep collecting slights against you, don’t I?”
“You definitely owe me homemade Eton mess,” Jesse agreed, his voice layering double as he opened the door to his dormitory.
Hanging up, Eugene grinned.
“Hey, thanks for letting me in even though I’m late.”
“Mhm,” Jesse said, tone unimpressed as he leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms, blocking the way.
“I tracked down your froofy dessert.”
That did the trick. Jesse slid out of the way and let Eugene follow him into the building. Eugene had walked Jesse and the rest of the team—Exton’s team—back here before, but he’d never followed inside.
Jesse’s room, when they got to it, was exactly what Eugene would have expected. Pristine and intentionally decorated with minimal touches that made the space look ready for a catalog photo shoot. But it looked like Jesse too. Because Eugene knew what to look for. The tasteful arrangement of framed photos above the desk featuring fishing trips and fencing triumphs. The tall lamp with pink petalled flowers for shades casting a warm light over white bedding. The embroidered patterns on that white bedding to give it character.
“Okay, the bunk bed’s a surprise,” he mused out loud. “Do you even have a roommate?”
“No. It took some string pulling, but I’ve got a personal suite.”
Eugene shook his head with a smile. He had no doubt Jesse slept on the top bunk even without a roommate to compete for it. He was a boy built for high stations.
Putting his offering on the desk, Eugene turned to Jesse.
“How about you pull up that presentation for me to look over while you eat.”
“I told you,” Jesse said, lips pulling into something close to a pout. “I haven’t started.”
“You knew I was coming over to work on it.”
“You were late.”
“All the more time to get it started. Theoretically.”
“I thought you were making up your blunders to me. Right now, you’re just making more.”
“Fine, pull up the assignment. I’ll look over the requirements at least.”
Jesse summoned up the assignment as Eugene set out his dessert on the white wood desk. Once they’d traded and Eugene had a seat on the bottom bunk across from Jesse’s cushioned powder blue office chair, it wasn’t hard to draw out Jesse’s knowledge on colonialism and verbally plan out a basic presentation. Soon, Jesse was joining Eugene on the bed and taking the computer from him to start composing the PowerPoint.
“Why does it seem so easy when I’m doing it with you?” Jesse asked. “This assignment would have taken me hours alone, but we’re almost done in one night.”
“It’s all about the dialogue,” Eugene shrugged. “History is something better learned with other people.”
“Kind of like fencing.”
Eugene laughed. Jesse couldn’t do anything without connecting it back to épées.
“Yeah, kinda like that.”
“Thanks for helping me.”
“Anytime,” Eugene said. And meant it. “Have you forgiven me?”
“For excluding me from your game? Yes. For tracking the field in with you and getting it all over my duvet? Absolutely not.”
“I didn’t have time to change,” Eugene laughed.
“You’re just lucky you don’t smell gross or I’d have made you shower. And I’m not sure I have clothes that would fit you,” Jesse added, looking Eugene up and down. “Maybe a pair of sweats. But you’d ruin any shirt I lent you.”
“So…I would have been squeaky clean and shirtless, got it. Well, there’s always next time.”
Jesse’s ears brightened, as did the very tops of his cheekbones.
“Next time, you’ll invite me. And rinse in the locker rooms at least if you expect me to go anywhere with you after—actually, I’m sure I don’t want to go anywhere with you after. A whole team of loud, sweaty boys clambering over each other for pizza isn’t my idea of fun.”
“We’ll see,” Eugene said, already making a mental note of which sweets might best convince Jesse to hang out for a bit after games. He should probably pack some for the actual games too. Eugene was absolutely certain Jesse wouldn’t like baseball.
But he was sure he’d come anyway.
“It’s probably time for you to go back to school, isn’t it?” Jesse asked, scrolling over his near-completed assignment with a dissatisfied tick of his mouth.
“Not necessarily,” Eugene shrugged, watching for Jesse’s reaction, wondering if he was judging the situation correctly. “I should at least stay until that’s finished.”
Jesse hummed, then nodded, accepting the offer. But as much talking happened as working, and talking soon gave way to yawning.
Chapter Text
Jesse jolted awake to the loud blaring of an unfamiliar song. His body was slumped uncomfortably and his neck was cricked badly, which only confused the whole experience all the more.
Until the shoulder Jesse had been sleeping on proved not to belong to him, moving to pull out a phone in a familiar yellow case.
Jesse pulled off of Eugene as he answered the phone.
“Ma?” Eugene asked, voice scratchy and disoriented. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he continued. “I visited Jesse after the game and,” Eugene glanced over at Jesse and the tipped laptop between them, “I guess we fell asleep.” Jesse searched for his own phone and found it out of charge. What time was it? “Sorry to worry you… Love you too. Bye.”
“What time is it?”
“Nine.”
Jesse sprang up from his bed in horror. He’d already missed the entirety of first period.
“This is why I have a strict bedtime routine,” Jesse said, trying not to sound overly shrill. “I can’t believe—!” He cut off in a frustrated tangle of vocals.
“My bad,” Eugene said, not sounding upset in the slightest.
“And my phone’s all out of charge—my computer will be too, no doubt.” Jesse briefly buried his face in his hands, fingers curling into hair with frustration.
“Hey, it’ll be fine.”
Eugene’s calm demeanor made Jesse want to snap and blame him for ruining his day. He took a deep breath in preparation to lay into Eugene. But some last thread of reason stopped him mid-intake.
If I yell now, he won’t stay next time.
So Jesse let out his breath in a violent sigh.
“Go take a shower,” Eugene said, still smiling affably as he ushered Jesse to his own bathroom.
Reluctantly, Jesse let him.
There were few things worse than rushed showers in the morning, and Jesse couldn’t enjoy the hot water at all. But that was the least of his problems.
As Jesse stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair towel in his hands, scrunching his hair dry, he discovered something new that he hated more than rushed morning showers: being fresh out of a shower with no clean clothes inside the bathroom and a boy just outside it.
With a groan, Jesse cautiously inched the door open, peeking out for Eugene. The gentle clatter against it startled him, and when he turned his head, he found his school uniform hanging neatly on the door, everything accounted for, even the tie and belt and socks. And underwear.
Jesse blushed furiously, snatching his clothes and slamming the door, heart pounding just as hard. It was only after he finished dressing and stepped into his room properly that he noticed its vacancy and the cheery yellow post-it note on the door.
Running out for a min for food
PS—Sorry about the undies but I figured you'd need them
—Eugene
Running out for food? Jesse didn’t have time to wait, he still needed to—
Jesse’s phone and computer were both at his desk, plugged in and charging. And on top of the computer was another note.
You can wait two minutes to eat. Don’t leave!
Jesse glared down at the note. Eugene was absolutely determined to fuck up his entire day with his stupid helpfulness and warm laughter and thoughtfulness and—
And Jesse liked it way too much to allow it.
“You’re here,” Eugene said as he shouldered into Jesse’s room, smile broad and genuine. “I wasn’t sure you would be. I borrowed a key, hope you don’t mind,” he added, tossing Jesse the spare key he kept on his desk in its own compartment of the pen organizer.
“What food were you able to find so fast?” Jesse asked, eyeing the paper bag Eugene held.
To Jesse’s delight, Eugene pulled out a cup of freshly cut strawberries and a can of whipped cream. He even had a fork and napkins.
“DoorDash,” Eugene said with a grin. “Luckily, I’ve got a spreadsheet—”
Jesse spluttered, interrupting Eugene rudely.
“I’m sorry, you’ve got a what?”
“A spreadsheet. Don’t look so surprised. I’m an intellectual. Totally nerdy, you know me. And my spreadsheet is super academic. Me and some of my friends started it to track location, accuracy, and speed of DoorDash drivers. One of our top guys was available to pick up our order.”
“A spreadsheet. To track food delivery. That is—I have no words, Eugene.”
Eugene laughed as he pulled the lid off Jesse’s strawberries and stacked them high with whipped cream.
“I could have done that,” Jesse told him.
“I know.” Eugene set Jesse’s breakfast down with the fork set next to it. “Just like you can pull out your own chair.”
Eugene pulled it out for him. Jesse allowed it, sitting down and anticipating Eugene pushing it back in. He did.
Jesse had never had a friend like Eugene before. He was entirely different from Seiji, but Jesse felt so much of what he’d felt for Seiji when he was with Eugene despite the huge differences. Of course, his feelings weren’t exactly the same.
He struggled to let go of Seiji. He felt guilty for not being able to let go—both because Seiji wanted him to and because Eugene couldn’t have all of him when so much of his heart was still stored in Seiji’s chest. But he felt guilty for letting the heartstrings tying them together start to pull loose too. It felt like a betrayal of his best friend. Even if it was what Seiji wanted—what Seiji needed.
“Whatever has your mind spiraling, try to put it aside until you’ve at least eaten,” Eugene said, knuckles knocking lightly against his forehead and mouth pulling up in a knowing, comforting smile. “You’ll feel better.”
Jesse nodded, skewering a strawberry. He noticed Eugene’s smile changing slightly and realized he’d been watching Jesse eat the berry. Jesse was suddenly sure he looked stupid eating them, and he fought the urge to cover over his mouth with a hand as he swallowed. He didn’t have to. Eugene wasn’t focused on his strawberries anymore, shifting to a conversation buzzing out on his phone.
Jesse ate in peace.
“I’m sorry for keeping you up late and making you miss class,” Eugene said earnestly, meeting Jesse’s eyes when he looked around to stare at Eugene.
Eugene wasn’t like Seiji. Seiji was so much like Jesse in so many ways. When things went wrong, they usually went more wrong when they were together than not—Jesse’s waspish anxiety waking up late would have set Seiji off into a snappish mood. Part of Jesse missed that. Eugene wasn’t like Jesse at all. Except in the most important ways. He dedicated himself endlessly to his goals, he loved fencing, he loved his family an embarrassing amount, and he was lonely.
“School’s a lost cause,” Jesse declared. “Take a shower and I’ll sacrifice a shirt.”
One of Eugene’s eyebrows hiked up his face.
“We might as well take the whole day. I want to go out and do something.”
Chapter 16
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Is there anything specific you want to do?” Eugene asked as he held open the door he’d offered Eton mess to get through last night.
Jesse stepped through it, humming in consideration.
“Besides fencing,” Eugene added before Jesse could say it. “We should do that last if we’re doing anything else or we’ll have the same problem about sweat that we just solved.”
“I don’t know what there is to do,” Jesse admitted in a blasé tone. “I mostly fence. There’s the mall, I suppose.”
“Let’s see,” Eugene said, rifling through his mind for something more exciting than an I suppose. “It’s a Friday, so there should be something happening.”
Eugene helped Jesse into the car—the passenger door was finicky about opening—and got in himself, gearing up to drive and taking them through his usual corners of the world. It amounted to a good hour in the car, but Jesse didn’t complain. He was too busy talking to notice how long Eugene was making him sit in his car, which was a much rougher ride than Jesse’s sleek one. Eugene listened to Jesse’s analysis of a recent bout at a tournament Eugene honestly hadn’t seen, but he smiled and responded perfectly to Jesse’s indignation over the directer.
“You do know how to direct a bout, don’t you?” Jesse asked eventually. “It’s an important skill. We should honestly practice it more—especially with five people on the team right now. Whoever is out can ref.”
“I’m not technically on the team,” Eugene said, only realizing after he said it that the team no longer meant the fencing team at Kings Row.
“You’re more a part of it than that sad little affair at Kings Row,” Jesse said firmly. Then, a little abashed and a little sullen, “Sorry.”
Eugene laughed, unsure whether Jesse was apologizing for bringing it up, for calling his place on that team how it was, or for insulting his friends.
“I’ll let you get away with talking shit on my old school—just this once and only because I like you so much.”
“Good.” Then again, “Good. Your old school doesn’t deserve you, but as long as you understand that, I’ll be…civil about it.”
“Will you?” Eugene asked, skeptical as all hell.
“I’ll try. And you…you’ll really come to Exton next year?” Jesse asked, a note of caution in his voice. A note of hope.
Eugene couldn’t follow Jesse’s logic. Until he retraced the conversation.
My old school.
It had felt natural to say. And to hear Jesse parrot back. Eugene felt an icy chill travel through his veins, a kick of unneeded adrenaline. He felt like he’d just been caught. Or like he was on the edge of a cliff about to dive freezing cold water. This, he recognized, was a turning point in his life. His body felt it, reacting appropriately to a life-changing decision.
It was time to commit.
“Yes,” Eugene said, and it was easier to say than he expected. “If Exton will have me, I’ll transfer.”
“Donati has been impressed by you,” Jesse said, too eager to sound as confident as he probably intended. “And the twins too. Marcel likes you, obviously, but he won’t be on the team—although, his thoughts on his replacement might carry weight.”
“I’m not above taking every advantage I can get,” Eugene said, smiling for Jesse’s enthusiasm. But enthusiasm wasn’t enough. If they’ll have me wasn’t good enough. Eugene committed. “I’ll get that reserve spot on your team, Jesse. I promise.”
“Reserve?” Jesse burst, aghast. “Eugene, you’re not reserve material. I want you as my wall. Besides, Aster and Thomas already take up that slot even if you wanted it. We have a strategy that works, swapping them out to face different teams as appropriate, and I won’t let you barrel in and mess it up.”
Eugene was floored. Being reserve on the best fencing team in the state already felt ambitious. But being first fencer on it? It felt impossible.
“We really need to have you compete in local tournaments, Eugene,” Jesse said, still sounding appalled. “I don’t think you realize how good you are. You’re always fencing children or the best of the best—it’s like you’ve been benching fifty pounds for so long that you think those managing a hundred are impressive, but I’ve been adding weight on all year and somehow you’ve failed to notice that you’re benching three hundred now because it feels as easy—and as difficult—as the fifty-pound regime.”
“I think I just fell in love with you,” Eugene said with a laugh. “Making weight-lifting analogies just for me.”
“Did it work?”
“Yeah. It did. I owe you for getting me out of that plateau.”
“Stop saying you owe me. You’re not a charity case I took on. You’re potential I found and stole for myself.”
Eugene was quiet a moment, taking in the words. The sincerity.
“Then, thank you. For seeing something in me and pushing me to be better than I thought I could be.”
Jesse nodded curtly, the sharp, efficient movement so emphasized that Eugene could see it from the corner of his eye even as he drove.
“And I do know how to direct,” he added. “But your idea about taking turns playing ref during practice is a good one.”
“I know,” Jesse said smugly, settling back against his seat. “And when will we be wherever it is we’re going? I don’t like long car rides.”
“Almost there,” Eugene assured.
Eugene expected Jesse’s dubious expression when he parked in the seeming middle of nowhere. They were in the middle of bustling streets, of course, but there wasn’t anything apparent nearby. Not immediately, anyway.
“Come on,” Eugene said, pulling open the door for Jesse. “We’ve got to walk a couple blocks.”
“This better be worth it,” Jesse warned.
Eugene couldn’t honestly promise that it would be, but he didn’t say as much.
“There’s a farmers market here that I used to visit a lot with my mom,” he said instead. “Before I moved into the dorms, we’d come every Friday Spring through Fall to get fresh produce. And usually a treat,” Eugene emphasized. “Lots of warm, home-baked sweets here.”
Stealing another glance at Jesse, Eugene thought his dubiousness had passed.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been to a farmers market before, but it doesn’t sound awful.”
Eugene grinned, encouraged by the lack of complaints, and steered them to the blocked-off street set up for the market.
They found a cinnamon roll for Jesse first thing, then wandered the market aimlessly, stopping to check out trinkets and treats.
“Will your mom be here?” Jesse asked, looking around like he was already trying to find her.
“She doesn’t come as often these days, and she comes later in the afternoon when she does.”
“My mom would probably like this place.”
“You should bring her.”
“You should make more of an effort to bring your mom,” Jesse said, surprising Eugene with his scolding tone.
“You know what? You’re absolutely right.” Eugene had started in the dorms before he could drive, but now… He could fit in a visit to the market with his ma before fencing on Fridays. “Hey, you could come with your mom too. We could have a playdate.”
Jesse made a face.
“Don’t use the word playdate around me, it’s embarrassing. I’ve never had playdates.”
“Yeah, because your best friend was Seiji. You two probably had meetings and appointments and important engagements. I bet you were insufferable as a kid.”
“I was adorable.”
“I have no doubt.”
“I bet you were rowdy and loud as a child.”
“You nailed it. You would have hated playdates with me back in the day. I’d have tried to wrestle you.”
“You still try to wrestle me,” Jesse said with a shove. “And I would have liked you. If you’d worked a little at it and been nice to me. Most people were too far away for me to like.” Eugene knew Jesse wasn’t talking about distance.
“I’d have brought you bouquets of dandelions and dragged you to duck ponds and put bandaids on your knees when I got you all scraped up from playing too hard. You’d have had a hard time getting rid of me.”
“I would have liked that.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
They lingered in the market much longer than Eugene expected Jesse to maintain interest in it, and when they left, it was with paper bags full of purchases Jesse had made. Eugene somehow ended up carrying all of them.
“So, where are we fencing today?” Eugene asked as they walked back to the car.
Jesse beamed, as if Eugene had just offered him the world instead of a sport he practiced every day.
“My place. You can stay over tonight too.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Notes:
it's my goal to have this fic finish on new years eve as per my eugesse tradition (iykyk and if you don't, its not important XD) and i gotta say besties,,, after plotting out the rest of it today it might be more feasible to write a whole other (shorter) multi-chapter eugesse fic to fulfill that tradition
ALSO I want to just emphasize how grateful I am for all of you who are still with me--I know I've slowed down in my posting schedule and I'm slower to respond to comments (although I read and love everyone and 100% will reply even if I'm 3 months late). This fandom is such an important community to me, and I've been really slipping lately in being an active part of it. I won't bore you with a trauma dump, but the last couple years have been brutal, and you all have been such a huge part of keeping me together through it all. So thank you so much and I love you all more than you understand, whether we talk frequently or never at all 💜💜💜 I really do hope to get on top of my shit again and be back to my old self 💪💪💪 but it might take a bit, so thanks again for hanging in there with me!! <33
Chapter Text
Eugene had obviously come straight from school today. The creases on his navy slacks and pressed jacket look smart on him, but navy was objectively the worst shade of blue.
“Hey, Jess, sorry I’m late,” Eugene said, pausing by Jesse to give his shoulder a quick squeeze. Nobody called Jesse that or jostled him around. But he didn’t correct Eugene for any of it. Except the tardiness.
“We were scheduled to meet ten minutes ago,” he said, arms crossing as he set an unimpressed expression on Eugene.
“I know, I’m sorry. I tried calling but phone’s dead. Thanks for waiting!”
Eugene was gone before Jesse could question him further—or at all—off to the lockers. He had the decency to hurry, emerging in his fencing gear fewer than ten minutes later. The jacket fit him well. The knickers too. Not an inch of yellowing to either, which showed the care Eugene took with them.
“What are you thinking?” Eugene asked with a quirking eyebrow. Jesse hadn’t meant to stare.
“You look better in white,” he said. “It suits you.”
Eugene’s eyebrow didn’t settle back into place immediately, but he laughed.
“It looks better on you,” he told Jesse. “But thanks. Are you good to fence?”
“I’ve been at the club for half an hour waiting for you. What do you think?”
“That I’m in the doghouse.”
“Precisely. Why were you so late?”
“Meeting with the guidance counselor went a little longer than I expected.”
“Guidance counselor?” Jesse inquired.
“Making sure I have all my ducks in a row,” Eugene shrugged before falling into a warm up routine. “You know, if I transfer. I wanted to be sure I didn’t need to do anything before the year ends.”
“And?” Jesse recognized the eagerness in his own voice but couldn’t disguise it. He hadn’t even thought to worry about logistics beyond fencing.
“And all my credits should transfer smoothly. Exton’s criteria for graduation are very similar to Kings Row. I did a couple classes out of order of their suggested track, but I did do everything. I might end up in a class with juniors but that’s not so bad.”
“What class?”
“Fucking physics. At Kings Row, the suggested track had us do chem first.”
Jesse was sure to make a mental note to take physics next year. They’d be getting their schedule surveys within the next week or two. It was good that Eugene was so on top of things and had thought to check in about credits so early.
“Fine, I’ll forgive you for making me wait. But,” Jesse said, pausing to stab a finger into Eugene’s chest, “don’t make it a habit.”
“Why would I ever want to make being late to fencing with you a habit?” Eugene asked with such a charming grin, he’d have been forgiven if Jesse hadn’t already decided to forgive him.
That made Jesse narrow his eyes mistrustfully at Eugene. Flashing smiles and saying the perfect things were dangerous skills; Jesse should know as he possessed both. But Eugene was at once teasing and entirely genuine when he spoke in a way that added in an extra touch of danger.
“Then let’s fence,” Jesse decided, picking up his épée and mask.
Eugene grinned broader and did the same, still using the same French grip he’d selected at Jesse’s house so many months ago. The blade was nicked with use and the grip itself less bright than it had been once. Jesse was glad to see those old blades given life again.
“Do you remember what I said about getting you in more competitions?” Jesse asked after half an hour of partner work and a bout to five points that had stretched out another thirty minutes.
“What competition do you have in mind?” Eugene asked.
Jesse’s mouth twitched toward a smile.
“There’s one here this weekend. Just local clubs. We should honestly be signing you up for everything we can between now and August. You learn a lot competing.”
Eugene nodded.
“I know. I’ve definitely fallen down on the job there, but I hate to give up my Saturdays for anything these days.”
Jesse untangled the simple remark in his mind and found it sweet.
“If you’re serious about avoiding competitions because you don’t want to give up your Saturdays,” he said, “you’re a moron. We could just as easily have you over Sunday for fencing. And I compete regularly on Saturdays. You never complain then.”
“Because I’m not a dick,” Eugene laughed. “And it’s pretty fun to watch you, anyway. But I’ll be honest that I was glad when Nationals were over.”
“Surely you’ve had enough time to recover from your deprivation of my devoted attention by now. It’s been ages since I won Nationals.” Eugene rolled his eyes at Jesse, but Jesse thought he had it right. Eugene had missed having Jesse all to himself. Of course, Jesse remembered each time one of Eugene’s other sports stole him away from fencing and Jesse. That was unacceptable. “And, to be clear, you’re not going anywhere without me. My dad is your coach and I’m your partner. So don’t get any ideas.”
“Never. Prep me on this competition you’ve signed me up for.”
Dad stood next to Jesse, both dressed in street clothes rather than joining the fencers in whites. Jesse wasn’t fencing today; this competition was below his ability and wouldn’t do much for him to participate in.
“You should have signed up,” Dad said, making Jesse look up at him in question. “You would have had fun competing with Eugene.”
“I would have beaten him. And everyone else here.”
“Never get too sure of that, Jesse. Even the best fencers don’t win every bout. But you’d be having more fun today fencing, and that’s the most important part.”
He was right. Jesse wasn’t used to being on the sidelines, especially where fencing was involved. But today was for Eugene. And Jesse was here to support him. And give their coach’s full attention to him. He was on deck for his third bout in the pool now, his notebook left in Jesse’s care until he got back.
Eugene had done well in his first two bouts, winning both without any issues. This one went similarly once it was Eugene’s turn to wire in and face his new opponent. The woman he was up against was good enough, but Eugene had already noticed her strategy—he’d commented to Jesse that she only seemed to do one thing, she was just really good at it. And good at getting people into position for her to execute it.
Eugene played that against her, only failing to pull off his evasion once when he committed too hard to what was meant to be a deceive.
Jesse held out the journal to Eugene when he returned.
“I got too fancy with the blade work,” Eugene said as he took it. “Started focusing on getting her to fall for what I was doing instead of focusing on hitting her.”
“Good,” Dad said as Jesse nodded.
Eugene scribbled down his notes and analysis quickly before taking the water bottle Dad offered him and chugging it down. His hair was a mess sticking in a million different directions and his face was streaked with sweat. And he was smiling wide as he drank everything in.
Jesse should have pushed him to compete months ago.
It was no surprise that Eugene made it to direct eliminations, and Jesse’s heart thrummed with each new opponent he took on.
“Relax, Jesse,” Dad said during the deciding match. Eugene was so close to winning.
Jesse didn’t understand what his father meant until he pried the leaking water bottle from Jesse’s hands. He’d been holding it for Eugene and it hadn’t been full enough to leak at all. Jesse had been squeezing it too tightly.
“This is the final encounter,” Jesse said. “He’s so close.”
And it was so much harder to be on the sidelines than on the piste as the blades flew. He gasped when Eugene’s opponent smacked his blade hard enough to send it from his hand. Eugene didn’t drop it. But it was all he could do to manage keeping a hold of it.
“It’s my fault,” Jesse said wretchedly as the bout concluded. “I told him to try the French grip. They always go after Frenchies—I should have warned him that they’re easier to knock—!”
“It’s alright, Jesse,” Dad chuckled. “He won second place in his first tournament. That’s something to be proud of.”
“He should have won first! He could have. I put him at a disadvantage.”
“You know both grips have their weaknesses. You steered Eugene to the right one for his weaknesses. And I would bet he won’t be so easy to disarm again after today.”
“He wasn’t disarmed,” Jesse said defensively. “He didn’t actually drop it.”
“I know.” For some reason, Dad was laughing.
The fencers were called right away to the small lobby area between the two open salles and awarded medals through the top eight fencers. This competition would count toward their ranking too. And it was good practice. But Jesse had been sure Eugene would win. He’d wanted to show Eugene that. To prove to him how good he was. Because Eugene could have won—should have won.
He tried not to let the disappointment show when Eugene came to join them, but the moment Eugene was there, grinning like he’d just taken gold at the Olympics, that disappointment was forgotten anyway.
“That was fun,” Eugene said, generic medal swinging on his neck as he flung an arm over Jesse’s shoulder. “I wish you’d been fencing today too, though.”
Chapter 18
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Eugene’s junior year disappeared with exponential speed. Every day spent with Jesse seemed to turn into ten and then twenty without him paying attention. The linear passage of time was marked mostly in games and tournaments, the former of which were always won and the latter always being something to be proud of.
He was glad his first time winning first at one of the regional tournaments had been one his family came to see.
As soon as his generic medal was awarded, he was piled on by his younger brothers.
“That was great, Gene,” Dad said, pulling Eugene into a hug when Fritz and Marcus ran from his noogies.
Best of all, though, was his mom.
“I knew you could do it,” she said to him, soft and fierce as she delivered her hug. It was extra tight. “I am so proud of you. I always have been.”
“Thanks, Ma,” Eugene said, an echo of a dozen I’m proud of you hugs getting caught in his throat. Usually they were delivered after another failed tryout for Kings Row’s fencing team. But not today. Today, he’d earned her pride. And made good on all the extra time and funds his family put toward his pursuit of this.
“Now go celebrate with Jesse,” she continued, pulling away with a smile. “He looks ready to burst.”
The moment Eugene turned toward him, Jesse hurdled at him, but stopped just short of reaching him, halting and suddenly self-conscious. Eugene laughed and grabbed him over the rest of the way, hugging him so hard, he lifted off the ground.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he said before letting Jesse go.
Jesse absolutely beamed at him.
“That was incredible! I told you that you just needed to get into the rhythm of competitions, didn’t I?”
“You did,” Eugene agreed. “And you’re right, I should have been entering them for years. I just didn’t think…”
“A common misconception,” Coach said, landing a hand on Eugene’s shoulder with a squeeze. “Every level of fencer is good enough to compete in competitions. It’s one of the best ways to improve. If you let skill hold you back from signing up, how can you grow?”
“That makes a lot of sense now that you say it.”
“And you’d have done perfectly well at many of these competitions before you started training with us too,” he added. “I have some notes to review with you, but you performed spectacularly today, Eugene. I hope it doesn’t sound condescending to say I’m proud of what you’ve achieved.”
“Thank you, Coach,” Eugene said. “It means a lot.”
And it did. More than Robert Coste knew. Because like the echo of years past in his mother’s arms, his coach’s words brought the echo of his previous coach’s, telling him the team needed the best fencer, and that wasn’t him.
“Why don’t we all go celebrate?” Mom suggested.
Jesse quickly agreed for him and his dad, still bubbling over with excitement. Eugene had seen Jesse win a million times, and this was something else. More like how Eugene imagined he might have acted as a child winning these things. It was cute—sweet that he was so enthusiastic over Eugene’s win.
“I’m not going anywhere with Gene when he’ll have the whole place smelling like a gym,” Luna complained.
“Is that why I didn’t get a hug?” Eugene asked, lunging for his little sister. She was smart enough to anticipate the hug and ducked expertly away from it.
After a quick stop by a bathroom to change out of his sweaty fencing gear, using his shirt to sop up as much sweat as he could, and reapply deodorant, they were off.
In true tradition, they found a pizza joint and talked just a little too loud with victory. Dad and Coach talked about fishing and Jesse talked cars with Marcus and listened to Junior about the crochet project he’d been working on at the tournament.
“Lolo and Lola would love you,” Junior said, meaning their grandparents. Lolo was the one teaching him to crochet. “You should come visit the cabin with us this summer.”
Junior had never invited one of his own friends to Lolo and Lola’s cabin. None of them ever did—it was generally considered by everyone as family time. So it startled Eugene a little to hear Junior tell Jesse to come so casually.
Jesse glanced to Eugene, checking for his stance on the invitation. Shaking off his shock, Eugene smiled.
“Yeah, you should. We usually go for a week, up in the mountains.”
“I’d love to,” Jesse said in a single breath as if in relief. Then he turned to his dad. “Can I?”
“Of course,” Coach said. “And Eugene can come with us to the lake this summer.”
“That’d be awesome,” Eugene said, then glanced at his mom, who smiled and nodded her approval.
“Perfect,” Jesse beamed.
There wasn’t a better word to describe this day.
“The Costes are good people,” Dad said on the drive home.
“You just like that Robert talks about fishing and lawn care with you,” Marcus said.
They laughed, but Eugene was glad to hear it. He liked that his parents liked the Costes. And the whole day was too much of a perfect opening to ignore, so when they got home and the kids were all put to bed, Eugene lingered in the kitchen.
“Gene?” Mom asked, joining him by the counter with a crease between her brows. She could tell something was stuck in his throat. “Kitchen, Kit,” she called a moment later, somehow knowing Eugene was waiting for him too.
“What’s that?” Dad asked, swinging into the kitchen from the direction of his room.
“There’s something I want to talk about,” Eugene started. He hadn’t been dreading this conversation, but he didn’t feel great about it either.
“Is this about Jesse?” Dad asked.
“Yeah, kinda.” With a steadying breath, he dove right in. “I’ve been working all year with him and his dad, and I’ve gotten good. Actually good. You saw that today—I’ve got a good chance of making the team next year.”
Mom’s eyes softened and she reached to tuck hair behind his ear that just sprung right back into—out of—place. Eugene knew exactly what she was thinking, but he wasn’t trying to justify to them that everything they’d poured into him was worth it. He was trying to not say it wasn’t enough.
“But I don’t know if I want to go back to Kings Row,” he admitted. He hadn’t expected it to come out like a whisper, but it had. “When I met Jesse, he showed me what fencing could be—what it is outside of Kings Row.”
“Did something happen at school?” Mom asked, concern deepening.
“I…was dropped from the team.” This admission hadn’t been planned, and it still heated his face to confront. He hadn’t told his family—he’d been too ashamed. He’d let them believe he’d just never been tapped in from the bench. “I wasn’t good enough to stay on, in the end.”
After a stunned moment, his dad started a tirade against Coach Williams’s methodologies that Eugene had heard at least a dozen times from Jesse. Mom pulled him into a tight hug.
“Oh, Eugene,” she whispered, so fucking sad it killed Eugene.
“I’m okay, Ma,” he assured, gently untangling from her hug. “You saw that today. It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” Dad said, but he’d calmed down on his own. “But we never doubted that you would be. You’re made of tougher stuff than that.”
Eugene gave his dad a half smile and a little nod to say thanks.
“What do you want to do, Eugene?” Mom asked.
“I want to try out for the Exton team. That’s Jesse’s school. He thinks I could get a fencing scholarship and I really think I want to try for it.”
He was met with silence, and he tried to pick apart every layer of it. Tried to analyze every detail of their expressions. Checking for worry over the impossibly high tuition or hurt that Eugene was saying the school they’d budgeted carefully and worked hard to afford for him wasn’t good enough.
“Are you sure?” Mom asked, her brow still slightly scrunched in concern for him.
“Jesse suggested it the first time I met him. At the state championship. I thought he was full of shit—sorry, Ma—but I agreed to train with him. And now…I’m not sure.” Eugene shrugged. “But I think I’ll be happier at Exton.”
Dad broke into a guffaw.
“That boy is good at getting what he wants,” he said, still chuckling softly. He raised his hand to ruffle in Eugene’s hair. “Mom and I just want you to be happy, Gene. If that means Exton and Jesse, we’re behind you one hundred percent.”
“Exton would be lucky to have you,” Mom said, smile genuine but melancholy. Like she could taste the bittersweetness too. “I think you should try out.”
After two more hugs and a promise to make arroz caldo for him tomorrow to take to school for a couple days of lunch, Eugene headed for his room.
He ran into a little bat with her fuzzy black wings wrapped around her.
“Hey, Lunes,” Eugene said, smiling fondly to see her lurking in the hallway down to his room. It was what she always used to do after they’d had a fight and she wanted a hug. Blanket and all. But they hadn’t had a fight. “You good?”
“Where is Exton?” she asked.
“You little sneak,” Eugene laughed. He should have known. “It’s about an hour drive from here and about forty minutes from Kings Row.”
She nodded. She didn’t care about the location, he knew. She just wanted to know how far away he’d be. And he was overcome again with gratitude and love for his family.
When he lunged for Luna this time, she didn’t duck away.
“You were pretty cool today,” she said, muffled by her blanket and his hug.
Notes:
LISTEN I knowww there is a canon character named Marcus. But I named Eugene's second youngest brother that years and years ago never considering it would be picked for a character (especially after Pacat used it in Dark Rise). But ALAS it is too late to change things in my mind so I will be an asshole and prioritize my own headcanons over canon compliance
Chapter 19
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Summer came right on time, and Jesse felt a wave of relief when it did. Eugene had one less thing holding him to Kings Row now.
If Eugene decided to go back to that stupid school, Jesse could live with it. But he wanted Eugene at Exton instead, and it felt more possible now that he wasn’t sleeping at the wrong school.
“How do you have so much stuff?” Eugene asked, picking up another of Jesse’s neatly labeled boxes. He’d been helping Jesse move out of his own dorm all day. Apparently it was a much longer process than Eugene’s dorm had required.
“I don’t have an unreasonable amount of things,” Jesse said with a frown. “I need them all.”
Eugene laughed, and Jesse knew it wasn’t agreeing with him. But he didn’t complain about the many trips up and down the stairs, and he even helped Jesse’s dad move out the chaise lounge and vanity without comment.
When they were done, Eugene came home with them and automatically started helping with the task of unloading Jesse’s possessions. The boxes were labeled for either his room or the storage closet, and the furniture all went to the latter.
“You have to stay for lunch,” Jesse said when everything was finally where it belonged for the summer.
“Sounds great,” Eugene grinned.
“And thank you for helping,” he added.
“For sure. I don’t know how you got all that shit in there in the first place without help.”
Jesse narrowed his eyes.
“Dad and I usually carry everything ourselves. It takes a little longer, but we managed fine, thanks.”
Eugene looked vaguely surprised, which made Jesse’s narrowed eyes find company with flushing cheeks.
“I am capable, you know,” he said. “I can lift furniture just as well as you can.”
“Right, of course,” Eugene nodded, surprise replaced by good humor.
“You think I’m a spoiled brat,” Jesse accused, unable to stop himself. Because he wanted Eugene to deny it, but he knew he wouldn’t.
“I just think it doesn’t suit you to do all the heavy lifting,” Eugene said. “Not that you’re incapable of anything.”
Jesse wavered, unsure how to feel at that. Because it was true—Jesse wasn’t suited for manual labor. But it still felt like Eugene was politely implying he was a spoiled brat after all.
“Let’s get lunch,” Eugene said, breaking Jesse’s conundrum.
They made a simple lunch of sandwiches and chips out on the patio, but it felt natural to share such simple moments.
“I need to unpack,” Jesse said after eating. There was a silent request there Jesse wasn’t sure Eugene would pick up. Or answer.
“I won’t be much help with that, I’m sure,” Eugene said, and Jesse nodded. “But I can still keep you company.”
Jesse beamed, unable to help it.
“If you insist,” he said, making Eugene roll his eyes.
“So, are you going somewhere?” Eugene asked back in Jesse’s room. Jesse followed his tipped head to the white and gold-trimmed suitcase sitting by his bed.
“Oh, right,” he said. “I forgot to tell you—Dad and I are going to Australia for a competition.”
It wasn’t a secret, it was just something he’d been putting off mentioning.
“That’s awesome! Take pictures with kangaroos for me,” Eugene grinned, then asked, “How long will you be gone?”
“Ten days.”
Eugene nodded, grin naturally fading. Not gone, but more subdued.
“That’s the longest trip this year,” he said. “When are you leaving?”
“Three days from now. But you better not slack while I’m gone. I expect daily reports of your training—and you should sign up for the summer intensive camp at the club.”
“You got it, Cap,” Eugene said with a roll of eyes. “But I expect reports of your progress too. I’m talking blow-by-blow playbacks.”
Jesse loved talking about fencing and would never turn down the chance to relive and analyze his matches, but it still felt surreal that Eugene wanted to hear it all—not even Marcel held interest in such conversations for long. There was only one other person who’d been so willing to hear it all. But that wasn’t quite true, was it?
“I’ll tell you everything,” Jesse promised.
“You better.” Eugene’s smile was wide, but it softened slightly. “I’ll miss you.”
Jesse nodded. That was the whole problem. He’d put off telling Eugene about the trip for so long because he hadn’t really wanted to think about what it meant. For them. He couldn’t remember going so long without seeing Eugene since they’d met, and the idea of being away so long made him lonely.
“Dad,” Jesse hedged, sidling into his office.
Dad looked up from his paperwork and took off his reading glasses. He never got mad when Jesse interrupted his work.
“I was thinking about the tournament in Australia…”
“Yes?”
“Could we invite Kyle to come with us?”
Raised eyebrows betrayed a modicum of surprise, but the smile with them was warm.
“I would have expected you to ask for Eugene to join us.”
Jesse couldn’t say why, but the comment made color rise to his cheeks.
“Of course Kyle can come.”
“Thank you,” Jesse said, relieved but not surprised at the answer. “I’ll call him right now.”
“And I’ll call your uncle.”
Eugene had once accused Jesse of being lonely. Jesse’s solution to loneliness for so long had been Seiji. And now it was Eugene. But Kyle had always been there—even before either of them. He’d talk to Jesse endlessly about fencing and had listened to Jesse spiral when Seiji left, which Jesse was still embarrassed about. And Jesse knew he always bragged about him.
Jesse had been terrified ever since they were in elementary school and Kyle’s admiration for Jesse’s dad extended to admiration for him too that he’d let him down.
“Hey, Kyle,” Jesse said when Kyle picked up his phone. “What are you doing next week?”
Kyle paused.
“Nothing, I don’t think. Why? What are you doing?”
“Australia. I wondered if you’d like to come along—my dad says you can.”
“Australia?” Kyle repeated. “For Worlds?”
“Yes.”
“Are you serious? I’d love to—just a sec, I need to ask my father.”
“Dad’s already calling him,” Jesse said quickly.
“Then he’ll definitely say yes,” Kyle said brightly. “When do we leave? What should I bring?”
Kyle was already waiting in the driveway with his luggage when they pulled up. Dad got out to help put the bags in the trunk and Jesse got out to switch to the backseat of the car.
Immediately, they fell into familiar conversations of fencing. It took Jesse the entire trip to the airport to remember what Eugene had said. About needing to make connections outside of fencing.
“How was school?” Jesse asked. “Lowther gets out a little later than Exton, doesn’t it?”
“Move-out day was today,” Kyle said. “But I was able to get everything out yesterday.”
“Really? It took me a whole day to pack and another to move.”
Kyle gave him a funny look.
“I’ve got a roommate taking up half of my room. I can’t fit too much into it.”
Jesse laughed.
“That sounds awful. I wouldn’t have enough room if I was expected to share.”
Kyle laughed too.
“The extra space and privacy must be nice, but I’d basically still have a single trip’s worth of stuff. You know how my dad is. Busy, I mean.”
Jesse nodded slowly. Busy was the word kids like them—like him and Kyle and Seiji—used to say uninterested. It always made Jesse uncomfortable when the topic came up. He always felt a strange sense of guilt for having parents that were never too busy for him.
“Didn’t he get you a car for your sixteenth?” Jesse asked. “We could make multiple trips in that.”
“I don’t have my license yet,” Kyle shrugged. “And having a roommate really isn’t the worst. At least it’s only Rahul.”
“That’s right,” Jesse agreed, remembering Kyle’s teammate and placing him as his best friend. “I planned on sharing a room with Seiji if he came to Exton,” Jesse admitted.
“He’s really staying at that awful school?” Kyle asked.
“Yes.” Jesse shrugged. “But it’s…fine. I know he’s gone.”
“That sucks.”
“It just means I have room for extra furniture in my room, so who’s really winning?”
“You,” Kyle grinned. “Always you.”
“You know it.”
Dad had booked them a hotel room with two bedrooms—one for himself and one for Jesse and Kyle. By the time they were landed and checked in, they all headed right to their rooms. Jesse planned to shower before bed, but Kyle obviously planned on skipping it, changing into pajamas right away.
Jesse froze midway through collecting his own pajamas to bring into the bathroom.
“What is that,” Jesse said, surging at his cousin to press an accidentally accusing finger against a reddish bruise that sat right under the collar of a buttoned shirt. In Kyle’s sleep shirt, it wasn’t hidden at all. “You didn’t get that from fencing.”
Kyle gasped and clapped a hand over his neck, jerking away.
“Nothing.”
“Who’s it from?”
Kyle went red enough to all but disguise the hickey as part of the blush.
“Nobody.”
“Since when have you got a boyfriend?” Jesse insisted, but Kyle jerked his head back and forth in denial.
“I haven’t got one.”
“But—!”
“It’s not from the type of boy that’s interested in dating me,” Kyle interrupted miserably. “And I’d rather turn in my captain’s pin than date him. It’s just…nothing.”
Jesse watched Kyle with a frown etching deeper into his face. He could tell he wouldn’t get anywhere with the topic tonight, but he also didn’t plan on letting it go. It made him feel a little awful, looking at the red mark from some nobody Kyle insisted wasn’t boyfriend material. It made him wonder if Kyle was very lonely too.
Notes:
im so sorry to inflict my idiotic love of Kyle on you all, but I genuinely believe building a more even relationship with Kyle is something that would help Jesse a lot, so his inclusion is relevant and not just me wanting to insert him everywhere
Chapter Text
Jesse’s trip got extended by five days. After he’d won his gold medal, Jesse had ended up exploring Australia and New Zealand with his dad and cousin.
It was good for Jesse to live a little outside the salle, and it was even better to see him make an effort to build relationships off the piste. But Eugene had felt those five extra days. Knocking at Jesse’s front door now, Eugene felt an unfamiliar murmur of anticipation in his chest. When Jesse opened the door, anticipation shifted to elation and he was crushing Jesse in a hug before he even realized it.
“Welcome home,” he said, smile broad as he let go of Jesse. “I missed you. How was the trip?”
“I brought souvenirs! They’re all terrible, you’ll love them. And for your family too—I couldn’t help myself. Australia’s hardly the most exciting place I’ve visited, and it’s not nearly my first time, but we went to all these awful tourist attractions because Dad thinks he’s funny. But Kyle, you know, doesn’t do as much traveling, not with his dad being so busy and all so I think Dad was just also trying to show him a fun time, and I guess it worked. We did have a lot of fun—I’ll have to show you all the things we got. And the pictures too, of course,” Jesse gushed.
Eugene couldn’t help the grin as he listened to Jesse’s flood of words. It was unusual to hear him so excited about something other than fencing.
“But I’m glad to be home now,” Jesse continued, calming slightly. “I missed you too.”
“Yeah. It’s a good thing you’re coming to the cabin with us next week or it’d suck to not be able to see you again so soon.” Eugene paused. “Are you still good to come? That’s a lot of traveling so close together. I get it if—”
“No! I mean yes, I’m still going. Obviously I’m still going. I told you, I travel constantly. I don’t need a lot of rest time between trips. Now come inside and see what I got you. And then I expect to see your progress.”
“It’s only been fifteen days.”
“You can do a lot in fifteen days,” Jesse said ruthlessly.
Eugene laughed and followed Jesse up to his room.
When they stopped out front of Jesse’s house, the boy himself was already stepping out of the front door, two suitcases and a backpack dragged along with him.
“He knows it’s only a week trip, right?” Luna asked skeptically.
Eugene swatted her on the back of the head as he climbed from the car to help Jesse load his things up.
Jesse didn’t complain once the entire drive, despite his aversion to long periods of time spent in cars. He was as perfectly well-mannered and flawlessly charming as Eugene would expect from the golden image Jesse presented to adults.
Eugene still had snacks and a pillow on standby for when Jesse got antsy. Both were taken gladly when offered, and Eugene had to wake him up when they finally arrived at the cabin, high in the mountains.
“We’re here,” he said as Jesse grumbled something softly and burrowed into his pillow. “Come on, let’s go in and say hi and eat, then you can go back to bed.”
Jesse pulled out of the pillow blearily, then quickly wiped the sleep from his eyes and sorted himself out.
“Of course,” he said smoothly, climbing out of the car door Eugene held open for him. He was the last to step out it.
As soon as they entered the cabin, they were both pulled into hugs and Eugene had to interrupt Lola’s fussing to introduce Jesse properly.
They were ushered into the small dining room then, told to sit before plates that were already loaded with food. Jesse ate without even a question about what he was eating, which either proved his determination to impress Eugene’s grandparents or his hunger, even though they’d stopped for lunch and had plenty of snacks.
Dinner passed quickly, and Jesse had secured the adoration of Lola and Lolo by the time they were finished.
“You must be tired,” Lolo said after they ate.
“I’m not,” Junior protested right away. “I want to show you the kiwi I’ve been crocheting. Jesse got me the pattern in New Zealand.”
“Ah, so you must be talking about the bird, not the fruit.”
“It’s late, Junior,” Mom said. “You need to sleep. Lolo can crochet with you tomorrow.” The last was said pointedly toward Lolo, who laughed.
“Surely just seeing it won’t hurt?” he asked.
“Just don’t get carried away,” Mom agreed. She was speaking to empty air by the time she’d finished. Sighing, she turned to Lola. “Let’s figure out the sleeping arrangements.”
Usually, Eugene shared a room with the kids. He figured he and Jesse could camp out in the living room if the bunk room was too crowded for Jesse, but it wasn’t ideal.
“We’ve been working on renovations,” Lola said, smiling at Eugene as she read his thoughts. “We knew we’d be needing a new room with our oldest grandchild getting old enough to start his own family.”
“I’m seventeen, Lola,” Eugene reminded.
“Only a year away from being a grown man,” Lola agreed.
Then Eugene noticed Jesse’s eyes, blown wide and accented with uneven pink flushed beneath them.
“And I’m not marrying Jesse,” he added. “If this is how you behave when I bring people over, I’m glad I’ve never brought anyone before this. You’d scare off all my friends.”
“Nonsense,” Lola tutted at him, then scooped up Jesse’s hand to pat it. “You’re welcome here anytime.”
“That’s not the problem,” Eugene told her. He was ignored as the old woman went to harass Luna instead. He turned to Jesse with a shrug. “She’s usually better behaved.”
“That’s quite alright,” Jesse said formally, then shook himself. “My mom says the most embarrassing things too sometimes.”
Eugene had barely collected his and Jesse’s things from the car when Lola swooped back to them.
“I’ll show you your room,” she said. “We’ve put you upstairs with the half bath. We had a full bath put in the new single room.”
Eugene nodded, understanding that his parents would be delegated there and he and Jesse would be in their old room. He knew the way, but he let Lola lead them there anyway.
Putting the bags down by the bed, Eugene heard Jesse thank Lola for the hospitality. She was delighted to tell him it was no trouble at all and praise his politeness.
“And you’re such a handsome young man too,” Lola said with her grandmother-sweet smile. She’d said the same to Eugene and his brothers hundreds of times. “And so talented. Our Eugene was lucky to catch you.”
“Still not dating,” Eugene said, earning another click of tongue.
“What does that have to do with anything I said?” she asked, and Eugene didn’t bother trying to reason with her, he just rolled his eyes at Jesse. “You boys sleep well.”
Eugene kissed her cheek goodnight and finally closed the door on her.
“Sorry, I think she’s just excited to have fresh blood. Someone new to dote on, you know.”
Jesse didn’t respond, and Eugene looked to see why.
“Oh, right,” he said, seeing Jesse scope out the room. “I can take the floor,” he offered.
“I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor of your own grandparents’ house,” Jesse said, but there was a dissatisfied hesitance to the statement. Eugene understood why when Jesse frowned at the floor with something similar to accusation.
“And I was raised better than to let a guest sleep on the floor. That was never an option, don’t worry.”
“Oh, thank god,” Jesse said, then cleared his throat. “I mean, I’m perfectly happy to…”
Eugene’s laughter had Jesse trailing off, apparently giving up.
“We can share,” he said after his laughing fit. “Or I can camp on the floor or downstairs on the couch.”
“Sharing works fine,” Jesse said quickly. “I really won’t kick you out of bed.”
“You’re much nicer than my siblings. I usually get the futon when we’re here. Maybe I should always bring you when I visit to ensure I get a private room,” he joked.
“Until you’ve got a wife,” Jesse tacked on.
“Or a husband,” Eugene corrected. “But Lola can hold on to her dreams of my marriage for later. Best friend works just as well.”
“Have you really never brought anyone to meet your grandparents before?”
“I mean, a lot of my friends have met them before at games or birthday parties, but you’re the only one that’s ever come to the cabin.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’s usually just for family. Which is why Lola’s being embarrassing about it all.”
Jesse’s skin was still tinged pink but he smiled.
“I like her.”
“Yeah, no duh,” Eugene snorted. “You like anyone who compliments you.”
“I do not! I’m not so shallow.”
“Right.”
Jesse picked up the pillow piled on top of their stuff and smacked Eugene with it.
“You can sleep on the floor after all.”
“Who needs a husband when I can get put in the doghouse by you?” Eugene laughed, tugging the pillow from Jesse. “I’m sorry I implied you’re shallow. I just meant you appreciate being appreciated. And that makes total sense, especially because there’s so much to appreciate about you.” Eugene gave Jesse his biggest grin. “Can I come back to bed now?”
Jesse’s eyes were narrow on Eugene.
“Fine, but only as a favor to Lola.”
Chapter 21
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Jesse was exhausted. Long car rides had no right to exhaust him as much as they did—he only had to sit through the entire time, but now that he was in solid floor and had a full stomach, he was grateful to fall into the double bed.
Eugene joined him with far less fanfare. There was plenty of space for them both to sleep comfortably without falling into each other. Jesse remembered the first time Eugene had stayed over. How Jesse had tried to direct him to a guest room. Now, Jesse couldn’t imagine trying to send Eugene anywhere else. And yet, sharing a bed with him didn’t feel as natural and comfortable as sharing with Seiji always had.
But he’d rather be sharing one with Eugene anyway.
“Turn that off,” Jesse said, reaching up to palm at Eugene’s phone, which was on and held above his face. “It’s bad for you to be on a screen before bed.”
Eugene rolled over onto his side.
“I’ll keep it dim,” he said. “I’m just not tired yet. Give me, like, twenty minutes.”
“No, not when the glowing rays of blue light are hitting me too.”
“You can hardly notice.”
“I can notice enough.”
Eugene only offered an amused glance over at Jesse before returning to his phone. With a huff of annoyance, Jesse lunged for the phone, managing to rip it from Eugene’s hands and turn it off.
“Don’t ignore me,” he warned.
“Your height won’t help you play keep-away here, bud,” Eugene said, not sounding at all annoyed or even bothered.
To Jesse’s surprise, Eugene turned over and caught him between his arms, trapping him close to his chest. Jesse flailed and tried to push away as Eugene laughed and plucked the phone from Jesse’s preoccupied grasp.
“Stay there and settle down,” Eugene said, pulling Jesse’s face tighter into him as the glow of his phone returned. But it dimmed greatly a moment later. “You can’t even see the light now, see? I’ll just finish this level and be done.”
“You’re the worst,” Jesse mumbled into Eugene’s soft sleep shirt. But it was comfortable and warm and dark.
Jesse fell asleep easily.
Jesse burrowed into a familiar warmth. He’d fallen asleep on Eugene enough times to recognize it when he woke up this morning, still held close by arms that were too thick for ideal fencing form. But, when not flexed, all of Eugene’s muscle was soft and comfortable. And Jesse was too comfortable to worry about all the reasons he should pull away.
Until the door burst open an indeterminate length of time later and a small monster cannonballed onto the bed. Jesse instinctively yanked the blanket up over his head and curled up small against the attack, consequently hiding against Eugene.
Eugene woke with an oof, then a laugh. Then the bed was a sea of motion. Jesse shrieked as the apparent wrestling tumbled over him.
Immediately, the weight was off him.
“You have to be careful,” Eugene said, sounding more scolding than Jesse had ever heard him. “Jesse’s here, so behave.”
Jesse cautiously slid down the blankets to take in the battlefield. Eugene had his little brother—Fritz—scooped up under the arms and held off the bed.
“Says you!” Fritz shouted, kicking his feet uselessly.
“Yes, says me,” Eugene said, holding firm. “And you should knock too. I’m not the only one staying in this room.”
Fritz wriggled and contorted to get out of Eugene’s hold. Red-faced, he turned on them both, but his glare was for Jesse. Then, just as abruptly as the door had banged open, bare feet pounded heavily away.
“Sorry about that,” Eugene sighed. “Little siblings can be pains. You okay?”
Usually, Jesse would have been more upset at being kneed in the ear, but he shook his head at Eugene’s worry.
“I’m fine.” Jesse chewed on his lip a moment, finally adding, “But you made Fritz mad with me.”
Eugene’s eyes opened wide in astonishment, the morning light casting them golden. Then he laughed, but the smile it came with was too soft to be counted as amused.
“Sorry I got you in trouble with him. He’s not used to getting in trouble with me. But he can’t hold a grudge. You’ll see, he’ll be climbing all over you by the time we go down to get breakfast.”
Jesse wasn’t convinced, and it must have shown. Eugene ruffled a hand over his head and stood with a stretch that brought up a corner of his shirt.
“I’ll go talk to him. But he shouldn’t be dive-bombing guests. Especially ones I want to return.”
Jesse considered making another joke about future spouses, but he decided he’d made too many already and refrained.
Jesse was left alone then. Eugene had gone without changing into clothes, making Jesse wonder if he should get ready for the day or if he’d be out of place. Then decided he was overthinking the whole thing and slipped into the bathroom to brush his teeth and change.
When he found his way to the kitchen, Eugene was already there, cooking bacon on a griddle in his casual sweats and loose shirt. Because of course he was. For a muscle head, Eugene sure was domestic.
And Lola had put strange thoughts into his head. Jesse shook them out.
“You good?” Eugene asked, noticing him.
“It smells good,” Jesse said instead of answering. He got a grin in response.
“Good. Grab a plate and load up. We’re pretty lax around here about mealtimes other than dinner, so the others will filter through in their own time.”
Jesse nodded, taking a plate from the stack Eugene indicated with a tiny tilt of his chin. Fresh bacon was slid onto it straight from Eugene’s spatula.
“There’s orange juice too,” he said.
“Aren’t you going to come eat?” Jesse asked, hesitating by the counter.
“When I’m done with this. I won’t be long.”
Jesse glanced to the little dining area, where Eugene’s grandparents sat with his dad and two of his brothers. They were laughing and talking in loud, overlapping conversations that Jesse was just starting to get used to. But he was better at navigating them when he was by Eugene.
“Gene,” Mrs. Labao said, coming up behind him to lay a hand on his arm. “I appreciate your help, but Jesse should be your priority. You can’t always abandon him to the wolves alone. We’re all happy to have him, but he’s your guest. You should be taking care of him.”
Jesse was used to seeing Eugene’s skin heated with the flush of exertion and accompanied by sweat. And usually messy hair from a torn-off fencing mask. There was no mask or sweat today, but Eugene’s cheeks went ruddy at his mother’s words.
“It’s okay!” Jesse insisted vehemently before Eugene could offer an apology or say he’d come to breakfast with him. “Eugene should finish whatever he’s started here and I’m fine on my own until he’s done. In fact, I’m more than happy to talk with Lola, I think she’s absolutely charming.”
“Are you sure?” Eugene asked, already wiping off his hands on a hand towel. “I can be done here and—”
“Yes! I’m sure. You stay.”
Jesse marched off with his plate and sat down at the table without looking back once. His own face felt unbearably hot.
“What did Mom say to you?” Marcus asked beside Jesse, craning his neck to check the kitchen for clues. Luckily, he was the only one who’d seemed to notice Jesse’s arrival.
“I seem to be getting everyone in trouble with someone,” Jesse said miserably, wanting badly to bury his face in his hands.
The boy on the other side of Marcus perked up. Fritz.
“Gene’s in trouble?” he asked enthusiastically. “With Mom? Because of you?”
“I—”
“She thinks he’ll scare you off just like he thinks I will,” he crowed delightedly.
“Nobody’s scaring me off,” Jesse said, lowering his voice to try and keep the adults from getting caught up in the conversation.
“Oh, yes, I’ve gotten in trouble too,” Lola beamed from across the table. “Both my daughter and grandson told me very seriously not to harass you too much.”
“I—”
“That’s just ‘cause they both want to keep you so bad,” Fritz said with a definitive nod.
“And I’m starting to think the more time he spends around all of you, the worse our chances are,” Eugene said, attacking Fritz with a noogie from behind.
He sat down next to Jesse with a stacked plate. Jesse had already passed his judgment on the portions when Eugene split the food between them both. Jesse had only managed to acquire bacon before sitting.
“You should have stayed with your mom to help in the kitchen,” Jesse said. Because it was obvious Eugene had come straight here after Jesse left.
“I should have been done as soon as you came down. Ma’s right—just because you fit so well here doesn’t mean you’re not still my guest.”
“And now there’s room in the kitchen for me to go cook with my wife,” Mr. Labao declared jovially, standing to leave.
Jesse looked around the table as Eugene’s dad left it and his sister came to it, wrapped in a blanket and looking half asleep. He looked absolutely nothing like a single one of them. And he wasn’t as excitable and rowdy as the major of the Labaos seemed to be. But Eugene said he fit with them. And Jesse felt it too.
“Well,” he said, straightening himself out and brushing off previous awkwardness, “I’m happy to be your guest for as long as you’ll have me.”
“We already have the room for you,” Lola said without missing a beat.
And Jesse felt himself go pink again. But he laughed as Eugene told her to knock it off and Fritz asked very politely if he could please come visit their room tomorrow morning too.
Notes:
i really expected/intended the cabin to be a single chapter. joke's on me it's like,, 3 now instead
Chapter 22
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Jesse laughed and wove through conversations like he’d always been a part of them. Eugene had never had a friend like him before. One who fit a little closer to family than to the group of people also included under the title of friends. He’d always been too content with his own family to want to bring someone else into the mix. Someone…permanent.
“I don’t really do video games,” Jesse was telling Luna dubiously, not taking the tiny Nintendo Switch controller she was holding out in his direction.
“Like you don’t really do board games?” Eugene challenged. They’d spent all of yesterday proving Jesse wrong about that.
Jesse still didn’t look convinced, but he took the controller and claimed a color for his little character on the screen.
“It’s the middle of summer,” Jesse said as Eugene happily set himself up as yellow. And found the Santa hat for his guy to wear.
“It’s his uniform,” Eugene shrugged. They’d gotten the game for Christmas, and the Santa hat had made sense at the time. And now it was just the way things were. “You sure your little alien doesn’t want to match?”
“They’re cats,” Jesse said with such conviction, Eugene wondered if he’d seen some definitive proof of that—because they looked like little aliens to Eugene. “And he doesn’t want to wear a Santa hat in summer.”
Instead, Jesse’s so-called cat wore a little hat with little kitty ears.
Once they started the game, any doubt Eugene might have had about Jesse enjoying video games against his will dissipated. He fit into the chaos and laughter as they tried to complete relatively simple tasks through teamwork and cooperation.
It was impressive how hard that was even when they had everyone cooperating.
“Oh my god—stop jumping on the buttons!“ Jesse shrieked about three minutes into a new level. “If you keep jumping on them before it starts, we’ll never pass this thing off.”
“It hasn’t started?” Marcus asked, jumping onto the button he spawned in front of.
“No! It’s a timer—you all keep killing us by buzzing in at zero, which isn’t helpful.”
Eugene laughed so hard that he accidentally knocked his cat-alien back onto the timer before it started counting again.
“You’re all useless,” Jesse grumbled. Eugene knocked into his shoulder fondly. And accidentally spurred Jesse onto his button the one time everyone else was behaving.
The week at the cabin flew by all too quickly. Time here always behaved strangely. Endless like the summers of his childhood but way too fast. Another eternity coming to an end too soon.
“So we have to go?” Junior asked over the dinner before their leave in the morning. “Couldn’t we stay longer?”
It had happened before where they’d extend their trip for a day or two.
“We’ve got to return Jesse,” Luna said, rolling her eyes at their little brother. “Do you know how expensive it is to rent him?”
“I get a friend’s discount, but it’s still highway robbery,” Eugene agreed solemnly.
“You’re lucky I don’t charge you for the honor of my company,” Jesse huffed. “Such a thing is priceless.”
“Eugene, pay him more,” Fritz complained, leaning across Jesse to do it. “Make him stay longer.”
“We’ll be back before you know it,” Dad promised. “So eat up and enjoy the last night with Lola and Lolo!”
There was plenty to eat too. They kept occupied for the rest of dinner without harassing Jesse about staying longer—as if he was the sole reason they needed to leave. But at the end of the meal, Eugene caught Fritz tugging at Jesse’s shirt, making him lean in close.
“I want to keep you too,” Fritz said quietly, which confused Eugene. But Jesse seemed to understand whatever it was Fritz was telling him, and by the soft and surprised set of his face before it shaped into a smile, it seemed to be a pretty good thing.
When they got upstairs, Eugene was first in bed and already set up for maximum comfort by the time Jesse climbed in with renewed scents of strawberry and rose. His hair was slightly damp. It was no wonder all the pillows smelled like him, soaking up his shampoo. Somehow, Eugene seemed to end up with the wet pillow by the time they were falling asleep. He still wasn’t sure how Jesse pulled off that trick.
“You ready for bed?” Eugene asked.
“Yes,” Jesse yawned.
“Then go turn out the light.”
“I’m already in bed.”
“I was already in bed first.”
“I’m your guest.”
Eugene swore. And climbed over Jesse to stand for the light.
“That line won’t work after tonight,” he warned.
“Then I’ll just have to take full advantage of it.”
“Is that so? Do you need ice water or snacks before I get back in bed?” Eugene asked with a flip of the light switch.
“Hmmm,” Jesse hummed. “No, I’m perfectly comfortable right now.”
“I should knock you out of place right now,” Eugene said as he returned to the bed.
“Why? What did I ever do to you?”
Eugene laughed as Jesse squirmed about to find a comfortable but defensible position on the bed. Right up against the wall. And when Eugene lay down, he found his pillow damp. He turned it over with a huff and fell onto it.
“I’m glad you came,” Eugene said, abandoning the banter.
“Really?”
“What do you mean ‘really’? Of course I am.”
“Technically, you’re not the one who invited me.”
“Then I’m glad Marcus did.”
“I can’t believe we’re already done.”
“Yeah. But there’s the lake house to look forward to next.”
“That’s right, there is. You’ll love it.”
“Yeah. It’ll be fun.”
“It will. This summer has been…really good. The best.”
“Agreed.”
Comfortable, low conversation turned to comfortable quiet. Sleep started pulling at the moment and Eugene was happy to oblige it.
“I’m really glad I met you,” Jesse whispered at the edges of sleep. Eugene wasn’t sure why the sentiment was worthy of whispering, but he didn’t break the quiet.
“Me too.”
“Even if you don’t come to Exton, that won’t change.”
“Yeah. Same here. Whatever next year brings, you’ll still be my best friend.”
“And you’ll be mine.”
Notes:
you know, it is an age-old tradition of mine to unabashedly write my own sibling shenanigans into Labao family moments, and since we got Pico Park 2 for Christmas and had a grand time of it, it felt only right to shamelessly insert that same joy in this fic since the timing worked out perfectly for it XD
Chapter 23
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Jesse was only home for a week before having to suffer another long car ride. But at least Eugene was there to suffer it with him. Not that Eugene seemed to mind the drive at all.
“The lake house is gorgeous. My mother helped design it,” Dad said from the driver’s seat as they arrived in the quaint little town which the lake house rested. It was in the very outskirts and far from all other houses.
Eugene was happy to engage in conversation with Jesse’s dad about the construction and design of the house, but Jesse had heard it all before. He liked that Eugene was interested, though. He and Dad got along well.
When the house came into view, Eugene looked out the window with an appreciative woah.
“Pretty, right?” Jesse asked.
“Very pretty,” Eugene agreed.
“You boys can go get changed for the water,” Dad suggested. “It’s still early enough to take advantage.”
Jesse was about to shut that idea down Eugene enthusiastically agreed. So Jesse closed his mouth. He’d just have to deal with travel fatigue.
Eugene grabbed his bags too, leaving Jesse with nothing but his backpack to carry in.
“Lead on,” Eugene prompted, the. Followed Jesse up the wooden switch back stairs that led from the driveway to the front door on the second level. The floor level was primarily a double sided garage with cars and boats stored inside, but there was a bed and bath down there along with the laundry room.
Jesse took Eugene to his room on the main level instead.
“There’s another room downstairs,” he felt obligated to say anyway as Eugene put everything down. “But given the fit you threw the first night I tried putting you in your own room, I figured you’d want to be here.”
Eugene caught Jesse in a headlock instantly, grinding knuckles into his hair.
“You have a warped perception of what a fit is,” he laughed. “But you made the right call anyway.”
Jesse might have smiled if he weren’t being attacked. When Eugene let him go, Jesse rifled through his bags to find a pair of salmon short and a simply short-sleeved button up to wear open over it. A suitable outfit for an afternoon by the lake, he reasoned.
Eugene wore swim trunks and held slip-on sandals in one hand, ready, it seemed, for an afternoon in the lake.
“It’s really beautiful here,” Eugene said as Jesse took him down the path to the lake. “The lake is so clear.”
“It’s as close to magic as there is, don’t you think?” Jesse asked. “Fireflies show up at night sometimes and it’s just…perfect.”
“You really love it here, don’t you?”
Jesse nodded, walking down the long dock. He slipped out of his shoes and settled on the very edge, dangling his feet into the lake the way his dad always used to.
“This is the first place Dad took me to fish,” Jesse said, patting the worn wood he sat on. “I was tiny then, so we didn’t go anywhere big. The lake is too tame for fishing now.”
“I saw that picture,” Eugene said, sitting next to Jesse, bare foot knocking next to his in the water. “Your dad showed me. Up on the wall in the living room.”
“Right.” Jesse suddenly wondered if there were any other pictures of his childhood in the house—and if any of them were embarrassing. “Well, it’s a good memory.”
“I bet. Though I never would have thought you were the fishing type.”
“What does that mean?” Jesse demanded.
“It means your skin looks ready to burn if we stay out at the mall too long and like you’d cry if someone asked you to go rough it in the wild.”
“I’m plenty tough enough for a bit of camping,” Jesse defended, his irritation only further amusing Eugene.
“With tents and sleeping bags and poop shovels?”
Jesse tried not to make a face. Eugene’s laugh proved that he’d been unsuccessful.
“We have an RV we usually take,” he admitted. “But I could do tents too. I have. Periodically.” At least three times. “And it was perfectly lovely.” If lovely meant tossing and turning for an hour trying to sleep on hard ground and waking up with bug bites despite the net.
“That’s what I thought,” Eugene said, pushing off the dock and plunging into the water. He reemerged a moment later, hair dripping. “Are you going to come in?”
“Not today.”
“Why not?”
“You know car drives exhaust me.”
For some reason, that made Eugene smile.
“Yeah, I do know that. But the water will wake you right up.”
“We’ve got nearly a week here. I’ll play in the water with you tomorrow.”
“And what are you going to do today?”
Jesse plucked out a fencing magazine and flashed it at Eugene before making a show of opening it to read.
“I will be relaxing,” he declared.
With a snort, Eugene disappeared under the water, leaving Jesse to his peace. Occasionally, he’d look up to track Eugene with his eyes a moment, always splashing about or swimming laps or diving deep to impress an invisible audience. He assumed that was what Eugene was doing just now and turned back down to his reading without having spotted him.
Something tickled along the underside of Jesse’s foot, then fingers locked around his ankle and tugged. Jesse sprung out a leg on reflex, kicking his attacker hard and sending them back a ways. But his ankle wasn’t released.
Jesse yelped as he toppled into the cold water. He flailed desperately to right himself and get back to the sky. As soon as air rushed into his lungs, Jesse used it all to shout at the one responsible for his fall.
“Asshole!”
Eugene held up his hands. Guilty.
“Sorry, Jess,” he said, trying not to laugh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d fall in. I wasn’t trying to pull you!”
“You yanked on my foot!”
“Yeah, gently. A little prank you could have broken from easily. But you’re vicious,” Eugene said, touching his nose. Jesse noticed it was bleeding and reached out without thinking. Then pulled his hand back and glared.
“You’re stupid for getting yourself hurt. What was I supposed to do when I got attacked? Let myself be drowned by sea monsters?”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“You’re so—you’re such a boy. Seiji would never—” Jesse caught himself.
“I’m not Seiji.”
“Good,” Jesse said firmly, inwardly kicking himself for the comparison. “I’m glad you’re not. I like you better being you.”
Eugene grinned at him, wide and honest. And then Jesse was pulled tight against Eugene’s cold chest. Jesse wasn’t sure whether the hug was for him or only to pull him back under the water.
Bubbles raised to the surface above them as they both laughed there, Eugene’s arms still locked around him.
Notes:
i SWEAR summer wasn't supposed to be that long, but turns out there are a lot of moments I just couldn't skip over TT.TT we will be in the summertime for,,, several more chapters
Chapter Text
“What are you doing?” Jesse asked, arms crossed as he squinted at Eugene in his unbelievably but fully genuine stereotypical rich kid boating look. He had more combinations of pastel shorts and collared short-sleeved shirts than should be legal. “Eugene?”
“What?” Eugene asked. “What could I possibly be doing to deserve your suspicion?”
“You’re smiling.”
“So I guy can’t smile anymore?”
“No. What are you planning? There’s no water here for you to drag me under.”
“Come on, let it go. I said sorry.”
“Did you?”
“I’m sorry, Jess, c’mon,” he wheedled. “I won’t ruin your outfit today. Look, I’m dressed too.”
Jesse’s lips still pursed as he looked Eugene over. Apparently he knew him too well.
“What are you going to ruin today, then?”
Eugene laughed.
“Nothing. Honest, I’m not up to anything nefarious.”
“But you’re up to something?”
Eugene stepped aside and flourished toward the picnic basket sitting on the kitchen counter. It was classic with woven wood and gingham lining. He’d found it last night tucked in the pantry.
“I don’t cook,” Jesse said flatly.
“Yeah, I noticed. I packed it. Come on, let’s go out on the lake today. You’ve got that rowboat.”
Jesse didn’t move.
“This is what you’re smiling about?” Jesse asked, suspicion still lingering even as surprise started crowding it out. More than surprised, Jesse seemed dumbfounded. “Not wrestling or food fights and flinging mud or something?”
“I told you I wasn’t up to anything nefarious,” Eugene grinned.
“Well. I’m sorry I accused you. This is almost…sweet.”
“Don’t apologize, we both know you were probably right to be suspicious. But I swear I won’t cause any trouble today. Well, at least while we’re on the boat. I wouldn’t want to risk my new title, after all.”
Jesse made a huffing noise and flicked his eyes skyward briefly, as if declaring Eugene ridiculous. But he came back smiling.
“I’m not helping you drag out the boat,” he warned. “You promised not to ruin my outfit today, and there’s too much potential to do just that if I play around in the dirt tying to move that thing.”
Eugene grabbed up the basket and led them out the door.
“Don’t you go fishing with your dad? I’ve seen pictures of you waist-deep in water, bud.”
“When I’m going fishing, I’m dressed and mentally prepared for going fishing,” Jesse huffed, as though Eugene was missing something supremely obvious.
“So what would boat lugging attire look like?” he asked.
“I have no idea, but I’m sure I haven’t got anything appropriate for the occasion.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I figured you wouldn’t want to break a nail and already pulled the thing out.”
“When have I ever made a fuss of breaking nails?” Jesse asked. He was easy to ruffle, even on accident.
Eugene laughed, shaking his head.
“I haven’t caused you to break any yet, so never. But I bet I’d be in deep shit if I did.”
“Only because it’s annoying,” Jesse snapped. “Or painful. But your opinion of me is unappreciated.”
Eugene stopped to turn around and look Jesse over. His eyebrows were creased and his mouth tight.
“Sorry,” he said carefully. “Was this a bad idea? I didn’t mean to cross any boundaries or—I don’t know, but we can skip the whole thing.”
Really, now that he stopped to think about it, packing a picnic to share on a rowboat was probably pretty weird behavior. It seemed more like something Eugene would think to do for a date than a friend, and realizing that, it suddenly made sense why Jesse was being so difficult.
“Yeah, forget it,” he said. “Let’s go find something to watch while we eat and then we can—”
“No!” Jesse blurted, hands actually coming uncrossed to reach out as if to stop Eugene. His eyes were wide. Panicky. “No, I didn’t mean I don’t want to go. Sorry, I was acting ungrateful, and—and I’ll help with the boat.”
“I already got the boat,” Eugene smiled bemusedly. “But if you don’t want to go, I really won’t be offended.”
“I said I want to,” Jesse said, a step nearer to irritated than frantic now. Then he snapped out his white sunglasses and smoothly set them on his face. “I’m dressed for a day at the lake and I haven’t been out on it for ages.”
“Okay,” Eugene agreed slowly, but he still felt like he’d made a blunder as they came to the shore of the lake where Eugene had dragged the rowboat.
Jesse took the basket from him as he pushed the boat the last leg of the journey into the water, holding it steady for Jesse to climb into. He did, sitting on the far bench and facing back toward Eugene, basket held on his lap, knuckles a little white.
“Ready?” Eugene asked. Jesse nodded. So he pushed off into the water before propelling himself into the boat to sit opposite Jesse. “There’s sunscreen in there too,” he nodded to the basket.
“You thought of everything,” Jesse said, unclasping the basket and opening it. The sunscreen clearly wasn’t the only thing Jesse was talking about. Plates and utensils were strapped on the top half of the basket as it fell open, and each compartment of food was carefully arranged, even packed with ice where appropriate.
Eugene shrugged as Jesse looked it all over before carefully picking up the sunscreen and closing the basket again.
“You’ve met my mom,” he said. “We went to farmers markets and prepped meals together. I used to help pack for beach days too.”
“That’s nice,” Jesse nodded, mouth still twisted as he looked down at the sunscreen. “Sorry I ruined it by being dramatic about my nails.”
“You’re fine,” Eugene smiled. “I shouldn’t have teased.”
“No, teasing is just what you do, and I know it. I don’t mind it.”
“It annoys the shit out of you,” Eugene laughed. “So either you’re full of it right now or you’re full of it all the time.”
“I can accept and like you the way you are even though you annoy the shit out of me with your teasing. I assume your siblings like you despite being annoyed by you too.”
Eugene grinned, letting go of the awkwardness of the moment completely.
“You make a damn good point. I can’t argue there.”
“I often make good points and you should really stop trying to argue with me so much.”
“How often do I argue with you? I thought I’d given up with that months ago.”
“However often it is, it’s too much.”
“Right. Put on that sunscreen before you burn to a crisp and blame me for it.”
Jesse’s eyes were hidden behind his glasses, but Eugene could feel their squinted displeasure. Especially when the bottle of sunscreen bounced off his chest and fell to the bottom of the boat.
“Thanks for the concern, but I already put on sunscreen,” he said, scooping it up and throwing it back to Jesse.
Finally, Eugene took up the rows and started them out into the water.
“This place really is beautiful,” he said, letting them meander to a floating stop near the middle of the lake, almost too far to see land in any direction.
“It is. I came here a lot growing up with Kyle and my parents.”
“And Seiji?”
“Yes,” Jesse agreed with a nod. “Seiji too.” He frowned then. “I think the more time I spent with him, the less I spent with Kyle or—well, I can’t remember anyone else from elementary school all that well.”
“Makes sense. You definitely fixated on things. I can’t complain, though. You fixating on my troubles is about the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Jesse perked up.
“See? It’s not all bad. And most Olympians are more driven than the average person.”
“I don’t doubt it. You’ve got to dedicate a big chunk of your life to it.”
“You’re really not interested in taking your fencing to the next level after school?”
“Not in the way you are,” Eugene shrugged. “The Olympics aren’t for me, but I think I’ll keep competing thanks to you. Might even try some international competitions eventually, who knows?”
“Oh, you definitely should!” Jesse said adamantly, a glimmer in his eyes promising at least an hour on the topic. Jesse happily rattled off all the competitions he thought Eugene should try for and all the benefits of competing on higher and international levels. And after an hour, the conversation somehow fell into plans of all the places they could visit on these hypothetical fencing trips.
Eugene listened happily as Jesse spoke about his favorite restaurant in England that sold the best Eton mess and started pulling out food from the basket, which Jesse took without question. All his talk of fantastic restaurants had been something of an accidental hint for them to eat.
“This is really good,” Jesse said, pausing to look down at his food. “My compliments to your mother for teaching you to cook.”
“I’ll let her know you’re grateful,” Eugene laughed. He watched Jesse eat the packed food, meant mostly to be eaten with fingers. He’d kind of expected Jesse to fuss about germs, but he ate without complaint.
For the grand finale, Eugene pulled out berries and cream—this, he offered with a fork.
“I hope you packed something for yourself,” Jesse said, grabbing the glass container without hesitation. “I’m not sharing.”
“I figured,” Eugene said as Jesse popped off the lid eagerly. He held up an apple from the basket. “And I’m all set, thanks for the concern.”
“Hm,” Jesse replied vaguely, happily eating his berries.
Eugene finished his apple long before Jesse was finished savoring his treat, and, with nothing else to do, Eugene took to lazily rowing.
“What are you smiling about?” Jesse asked once his last bite was swallowed. “It looks secret.”
“Then why would I tell you?”
“Because I’m your best friend. You’re practically required to tell me all your secrets.”
“And that’s just it,” Eugene said, putting more heft into the oars now that Jesse’s meal wouldn’t be disturbed by turbulence. “Sometimes I realize how impossible it is that the past eight months have been real. Usually I’d be home, maybe hitting up the group chat to see if anyone was around to shoot hoops or bum it at the mall.”
“You’d be out making friends and playing sports, you mean,” Jesse said with a dismissive pfft at Eugene’s words. “You weren’t as lonely before me as you make it sound.”
“Oh, I definitely was,” Eugene said, splashing up an oar to spray Jesse with water. “But only in hindsight. I do like collecting friends and sports, though,” he admitted. “And I’m damn good at it.”
“Now you just have proper focus on one. Fencing,” he added.
“Do you have gear here?”
“Of course. Who do you think I am? Why, did you bring yours?”
“Better safe than sorry. I left the blade—you’ve got one for Seiji collecting dust here, don’t you?”
“How do you know it’s Seiji’s?”
“Dude. You and your dad are southpaws and Seiji’s a frenchie. Obviously you had them around for him.”
“They’re for you now. Or we could get entirely new blades and throw out the other ones.”
“I’m happy with hand-me-downs,” Eugene said, shaking his head with a smile at Jesse’s sudden fire. “It’s not the épées fault that you two tore off in opposite directions. It’s not fair to toss them out when I can just give them another chance. Also, no way in hell am I letting you buy me an armory of blades. Using gear you have around already is one thing, but there’s a line. And it comes right before dropping hundreds of dollars on me for petty reasons.”
“What about non-petty reasons? Like a new haircut?”
Eugene guffawed as Jesse’s mouth twisted in a little smile he’d picked up around the same time he’d picked up teasing Eugene back.
“The haircut line is low-hanging fruit,” Eugene said. “You’ll have to do better than that.”
“I thought you’d be upset if I offered to buy you a new car.”
“I love my car!”
“I know,” Jesse sighed. “And it’s horrid. Really, it’s incredible it’s still driving.”
“You just don’t appreciate the simple joys in life.”
“The simple joys of life are long baths and picnics in boats and the first bite of a favorite food. Not bumping along in a car with half a functioning door.”
“At least we can agree about picnics and boats.”
“And mountain air in the evening.”
“And fencing on vacation.”
“Definitely fencing on vacation,” Jesse nodded. “But not yet.”
Chapter 25
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Jesse bounced on the balls of his feet. Subtle and controlled. More like a fencer ready to step onto the strip than a nervous boy. Captain, Jesse reminded himself firmly. He wasn’t here as Eugene’s friend. He was here as Exton’s fencing captain, scouting for the best addition to his team.
That knowledge didn’t stop the nerves. Actually, it made it worse. What if he was biased and thought Eugene was the best fencer when he wasn’t? Or, worse, what if he could see Eugene wasn’t the best fencer?
He belongs on my team, Jesse smothered out his thoughts crossly. He knew Eugene’s capabilities, and that wasn’t bias.
Jesse greeted each hopeful as they trickled into the salle and began to warm up. Donati preferred to do tryouts in several screenings. Today they’d go through an entire bracket with direct elimination, tomorrow they’d take the top fencers from this competition and have them compete again, fresh. The top three would then fence with the team and each member would offer input on the potentials. Obstacle courses and drills could never tell you as much in isolation as watching it all in action. Evaluating proficiencies, strengths, and weaknesses would come after.
As his coach explained the procedure to the crowd of twenty-eight boys, Jesse stood tall by her shoulder and reinforced an air of confidence and grace like any good captain. He didn’t look to Eugene once.
Until the crowd was dismissed to find their first match. Eugene met Jesse’s eyes with a wink and a double thumbs up. Jesse let out an intentional breath of anxiety and smiled as he looked away. It was good to see the confidence. Jesse had been confident every moment leading up to this one, but now he was terrified he’d been wrong.
He couldn’t even think about the consequences of such an error. If he did, he’d spiral. So instead, he held onto Eugene’s broad smile and the months of work backing it up. And then he tucked it all in the back of his mind as he looked down over the bracket and the schedule for the first wave.
The first match Jesse stopped to watch was disappointing. Both boys were freshmen, and had they gone to a third-rate school, they likely would have made the team. Exton had higher standards. So Jesse scribbled notes next to each name on the second page clipped to his board and moved on to catch another. This pair was interesting at least. One boy was clearly a saberist, the way he charged his partner. He was aggressive and good at what he did. Like a one-trick pony. Not that Jesse would ever tell his coach what he thought of her preferred weapon. But the boy set against that one was taking proper advantage of all the mistranslations between the two weapons. If only he executed half of those opportunities as well as he spotted them.
Jesse diligently did his rounds, Donati hitting each match at different instances than him. They’d compare notes after the day was dismissed, but so far no one had impressed Jesse greatly. Not like the twins had.
Looking down again, Jesse’s heart skipped a beat at reading Eugene’s name slated against ‘Donny Kimmel’ on the next round of time slots. He couldn’t help it; Jesse wandered over to piste 3 where Eugene and Donny were getting wired. He wouldn’t spend the entire time on a single match, but he could catch the start of it. And circle back for the end if he timed it right too.
After weapons were checked and the ref had been saluted, the first battle began. Eugene approached with intention, but Jesse was pleased to recognize the mirror he played to his opponent, letting him set the distance and pace. Eugene was brilliant working the short zone—a side effect of being, by fencing standards, short. But he could work in and disrupt any distance his opponent set just as well. His adaptability had always been an asset.
Donny offered a feint, but Eugene beat right through it, knocking his blade hard and sliding in to hit in the chest. Donny hadn’t realized Eugene was in thrusting distance. Or maybe he’d thought he could work fast enough to get leverage against Eugene’s blade after baiting it. Jesse had to smile as he watched a variation of the same exchange. After losing his blade in competition, Eugene hadn’t dropped it once and had, in fact, taken it as a challenge. Forget proper leverage, the boy was strong. Even his worst-planned beat could push blades aside like grass instead of metal. Jesse would know. With a note scribbled next to Eugene’s name, Jesse moved on, leaving the score at 3-0.
Eugene is absolutely loving this match—actually finding an opponent to strong-arm into victory? Dream come true.
The snippets of the other active bouts weren’t much more promising than the last batch, but there was one boy who was beating his opponent without taking a single hit. Much like Eugene, he’d found a strategy that worked and his opponent wasn’t skilled enough to adjust, so it worked every time. He could be one to watch. Jesse scribbled notes and dashed a circle around the name. Nothing star-worthy yet, but maybe he’d prove promising.
Jesse had moved quickly through the bouts happening parallel to Eugene’s, but it was still nearing the end when he returned.
Eugene was two points away from the win. His opponent had nothing more to show for his efforts than he had ten minutes ago. Jesse watched Donny retreat, clearly trying to play more defensive after losing so many points to going for feint attacks he wasn’t quite skilled enough at to rely on at high levels. Jesse fenced in his place, feeling the downward thrust of his blade to hit the foot as Eugene thrust straight for a direct attack, drawing his opponent parry only to tip the blade down and hit thigh instead. Jesse nodded. That was as elegant a solution as his.
His final point hardly counted. Donny all but threw himself on Eugene’s blade in a final, desperate attempt to prevent the inevitable.
“Halt. Touch left. Fifteen-zero.”
Eugene was already tearing off his mask and giving a holler of victory and joy, right hand, blade still clenched in it, pumping in a fist. Jesse braced. Then relaxed, feeling foolish as Eugene finished thanking his opponent and director before unhooking from the reel. Usually, there were hugs and back slaps or shoulders jostled enthusiastically. Today, Eugene didn’t share his celebration with Jesse.
As was proper. Jesse was here as his captain—potential captain—not his friend. It was still with a frown that Jesse crossed off Donny’s name and rewrote Eugene’s down the stem. He’d be up against Xand Hale next, a favorite from last year. He and Daniel Srivastava had both bypassed the first round of direct eliminations and would join in for the second wave. It would be a much more challenging bout than this one.
Looking up, Jesse accidentally caught Eugene’s eye as he stepped from the strip. He got another wink, more subtle and with a smaller smile than before. It was like a whisper, secretive and special and just between them. Jesse gave no reaction. Not intentionally. But any reason to frown had been forgotten.
Eugene could handle Xand. And Jesse would be silently cheering him on.
For now, he hurried to make another appearance at the other bouts finishing up.
The hopefuls got to take a fifteen-minute break before the second round of direct eliminations. Eugene’s laugh carried across the gym; Jesse wasn’t surprised to find him smiling with a group of boys he’d just met today—boys he was in direct competition with. But he also had his journal and kept bouncing between conversation and either writing or reviewing notes in it.
He fit in here.
“Alright, boys,” Coach Donati said with a sharp clap-clap of her hands. “To your strips.”
Everyone fell into place, whether that was at a piste or against the walls to play on phones, write down notes, or watch. Coach Donati did not tolerate students milling about the tryout matches and hindering her view or ease of movement around the room.
Sixteen fencers left. They were starting to filter out the promising from the hopefuls. The next round of DEs would be where things got interesting. Of course, anyone who made it past their opponent here would be back tomorrow regardless of the outcome of those matches. But they’d still be full of valuable information to take into account when moving forward.
Jesse had to deal with the anticipatory anxiety of Eugene’s unknown standing in the selection process for the entire round—until the last wave of matches. Again, Jesse positioned himself to watch the start of Eugene’s bout. This would be a much harder fight than his last Xand was a solid fencer. More than solid. Almost great.
But Jesse knew two things: Xand wasn’t what they were looking for, and Eugene could beat him.
Unless bad luck or nerves resulted in an unlikely loss. A crushing loss.
“You’ve got this,” Jesse whispered, too quietly for even himself to hear. But he spoke them for Eugene anyway.
Xand was patient. The kind of patient that was frustrating for aggressive fencers. Eugene was the most patient person Jesse knew, but he ran out of it more quickly on the piste. He liked action and making things happen. He had a body built to move. And it hadn’t been easy to halt his natural momentum. Jesse remembered getting frustrated at Eugene, exploding and asking why he couldn’t show the same patience to fencing that he showed to everyone around him. Somehow, that marked the turning point. Eugene could play patient as well as anyone now. But…
But Xand was fucking frustrating. His tactic was drawing people closer and closer, luring them into his reach before springing forward. He was incredible at reading timing and had a knack for spotting the exact moment frustration took over or rhythm was broken. And Eugene could fall back into bad habits. Endless momentum wasn’t a bad thing, but thoughtless momentum was a good way to get stabbed.
Except Eugene didn’t follow Xand more than five feet. After realizing Xand wouldn’t engage, he broke the pattern and retreated slightly himself. Light on their feet and ready to explode at the right moment, the two fencers stood across from each other. It was opposite to Eugene’s first match, and by the time forty seconds were on the clock, Jesse got nervous. Passivity loomed twenty seconds away and—
Xand rushed forward, his explosive speed carried him right into Eugene’s blade.
Jesse hadn’t been the only one worrying about the time. That really wouldn’t work a second time, but disrupting a fencer’s natural strategy with the first hit was a good foundation to win.
Able to breathe again, Jesse moved on. He needed to stop doubting Eugene and start trusting him.
The next time he stopped by that strip, Eugene would be winning. He knew it. And he’d win the next match too. Jesse was sure of it.
And he was right.
Notes:
yes i chose that picture on purpose uwu
Chapter Text
Eugene noticed Jesse first. He was sure he’d get in trouble for admitting as much, but there it was. The final match of the first day. He needed to focus—and he was focused. But as he got hooked into the reel, he felt Jesse’s attention and found him in a quick glance and a flashed smile before facing his opponent.
Across from him, Daniel Srivastava finished with his own wire. He was tall and gangly. Looking at him, grace wasn’t something anyone would assume he had. But Eugene hadn’t just looked at him; he’d watched him. He was fast and aggressive and his footwork and coordination made that deadly. He had plenty of grace despite the awkwardly lanky limbs.
But Eugene had plenty of damn grace himself.
After salutes were made and masks were donned, Eugene sunk into his garde and leveled his blade, making it a flat plane. Daniel was a fan of beating blades out of hands. Eugene could appreciate the tactic even if he personally found it annoying as all hell. If it worked, it worked. Kind of like the flick and a dozen other annoying moves and practices. Eugene was getting better at fencing around all of them.
Just denying Daniel his go-to was enough to score two early points, but the boy adjusted. Eugene couldn’t help but grin when he felt the shift from his opponent. He’d been overly confident, but now he stopped leaning on what he was used to. That might make it harder to predict Daniel, but it also made him more fun to fence against. More interesting.
And it was.
When the third encounter started with Eugene up one, it was clear this match would be close. But he could win it. Daniel was too fast for him to attack; defense was the best strategy. So many of these Exton fencers were hotshots with something to prove. Eugene just had to out wait them. Out think them. Score under their attacks and welcome them onto his blade.
Three minutes into the encounter and two points had been scored but the gap remained the same. Daniel was cautious now—more cautious than he had been since donning the mask.
He’s finally taking me seriously, Eugene realized. The boy was obviously thinking. Strategizing. He had the capacity to analyze and recalibrate mid-bout. So why hadn’t he? Because he’d been, in his mind, playing with his food. Using Eugene to show off for Jesse and Donati.
The blood pounding in Eugene’s ear was the funeral dirge for the match. He felt the snap and knew he’d lost when he charged. But there was no stopping it. His body insisted on striking out.
With no lead and a stinging wrist, Eugene walked back to his line. He tried to shake off the sudden aggression and anger. If he could just breathe and let it go, he could recover this.
But, unbidden, his eyes sought out the face in this crowd they looked for in every crowd now. Jesse’s fingers pressed to his lips in horror and his wide eyes scrunched at the corners from the concerned press of his golden brows. Eugene hadn’t known what it was to disappoint someone until this moment.
The look on Jesse’s face locked all his joints up as surely as the sudden anger had forced him forward.
He lost by one point.
Daniel’s smug expression as they shook hands, like this match had gone exactly as he’d planned, didn’t even bring rancor. He could feel Jesse’s confusion and disappointment too strongly to care about Daniel at all.
He couldn’t help the grimace when Jesse’s hand clamped around his bicep, halting him before he could even unhook from the reel.
“What happened there?” Jesse demanded. “You were doing so well—what changed?”
“I’m sorry, Jesse,” Eugene said, shaking his head. “I lost focus.”
“No, don’t be sorry. Be better.”
Eugene laughed, so startled by the ruthless command that he couldn’t even feel hurt by it. He could imagine Seiji saying the exact same thing. And…
Jesse’s hand loosened and slipped, holding lightly in the crook of Eugene’s elbow just above the mask he held against his side.
“You’re having second thoughts,” Jesse said, flat and quiet. “You miss Kings Row.”
“What?”
“That look, Eugene,” he said, exasperation seeping in. “I recognize it. You’re thinking about your old team, aren’t you? That’s what happened with Daniel too, isn’t it? You were thinking that you’d rather be at that dumb—at Kings Row.”
“What? No—not even a little. This is where I want to be.” Eugene sighed and shook his head again. As if that could clear it. “I just hope I didn’t mess it up.”
Jesse pursed his lips. Then he tossed his hair and regained the haughty demeanor he was so well known for back at Kings Row.
“Of course you haven’t. Coach Donati conducts try outs in multiple stages for a reason. You’ll win tomorrow.” With that declaration, Jesse let go of Eugene to reach across his body and unplug his body cord from the reel, which he unclipped in turn and let retract. “Come on, dress down and then tell me what happened. For someone so proud of all the mistakes you’ve grown from, you really should know by now how to learn from them.”
“God,” Eugene said, pulling up a grin, “the world is lucky you and Seiji never ended up on a team together. You’d have sent home all your teammates crying.”
“Is that what you plan to do?”
“Not even a little.” And he meant it. He felt better. “But you need to go debrief with your coach. We’ll talk after.”
It made sense to sleep over at Jesse’s—it always had. They’d be going the same place in the morning, so the plan had been obvious. Eugene felt better for that too. It hadn’t felt cocky to assume he’d make it to the next round of tryouts. It had just felt true.
And even if he hadn’t made the first round of cuts, he realized he wouldn’t have wanted to hide from Jesse’s disappointment in his mom’s arms.
“So what happened?” Jesse asked once they’d eaten and stolen away to his room. “I mean, I could tell you from a technical perspective what went wrong, but you don’t make those mistakes. So?”
“You could tell me what went wrong from more than just a technical perspective,” Eugene snorted. “Obviously I lost my shit. Let my emotions get the better of me.”
Jesse stared Eugene down, his eyes hard and assessing.
“You didn’t crack under the pressure. You didn’t get in your head about whether you’re good enough. You didn’t get reckless from excitement. You were angry.”
“You know me too well.”
“Not possible. What made you so mad?”
“It’s hard to explain. I don’t know if it would even make any sense to you.”
“You just accused me of knowing you too well,” Jesse said, his mouth set in a full don’t bullshit me line. “If it makes sense to you, I’ll see it too.”
“Yeah,” Eugene said, knocking a shoulder against Jesse’s on the edge of the bed they sat on before falling back on it to stare up at the ceiling. “I should give you more credit.”
“Honestly,” Jesse huffed in a performative way that was only a played up version of his actual feelings anyway. “People should stop underestimating me.”
“I’m used to people underestimating me. I don’t really mind it—it’s a hell of an advantage if you play it right. You shoulda seen my first year at Kings Row—man, none of those posh assholes expected me to be any good in anything. Felt good smoking their asses on every history test and making three teams as a goddamn freshman.”
“I was captain of my team as a freshman,” Jesse reminded to a bark of laughter.
“Yeah, Jess. I know you’re crazy impressive. And it’s crazy to underestimate you.”
“But it’s not crazy to underestimate you,” Jesse said slowly, peering down at Eugene. “And you’re sure it doesn’t bother you?”
“Nah. Just makes winning feel that much better. What I hate—what I really fucking hate, Jesse? People thinking they can use me.”
“And Daniel was using you?” Jesse asked. Eugene had the urge to tell Jesse to forget about or say again it didn’t make sense. But he really should have known better than to doubt Jesse by now. So he tried to explain anyway.
“He was showing off. Because he thought I was a good way to showcase his own skill. It’s not like I’ve never faced that type before—hell, I seem to remember you being a bit of a peacock when you visited Kings Row last year. But…I don’t know. I never realized I hated it so much until I started fencing you.”
“I do not peacock,” Jesse protested, glaring down at Eugene with a wrinkled nose.
“You absolutely do. But you’re so good, you don’t need to calculate who you can use to show off. You’re just a show off no matter what.”
Jesse swatted Eugene’s chest with the back of his hand.
“I do not. I’m just good and it’s not my fault if that looks like showing off to—stop laughing! And if you’re so smart, why do you keep fencing with a peacock?”
Eugene stopped laughing, pushing himself up onto his elbows instead to frown at Jesse’s face.
“You took that wrong,” he said. “Or I said it wrong. You never made me feel like a burden or a safety net or like a dozen other things I always felt in the salle tiny ways I never noticed before. Even being the best fencer in the nation, doing me this huge favor, you treated me as more of an equal than anyone on my team. And Daniel thought he could impress you and Coach Donati by humiliating me.”
“Well, I wasn’t impressed by him,” Jesse said with a dismissive sniff. “And it’ll be extra sweet when you make the team and he doesn’t.”
“Hell yeah,” Eugene agreed, pulling out of his tangled emotions. Somehow, Jesse kept saying—kept being—exactly what Eugene needed. “I won’t let you down.”
“Good, because I’m awful at taking disappointment gracefully.”
Eugene laughed.
“I know.”
“I know too.”
Chapter Text
Today, Jesse wasn’t nervous. He knew Eugene would excel. He was certain, too, that he’d go undefeated in the day’s tryouts. It made sense he’d needed to have a minor meltdown—it was good, really, to take note of the things that provoked you. Now it was out of the way and Eugene wouldn’t fall in that trap again. Jesse knew it.
With only the top eight fencers invited back for round-robin tournaments, it gave them a chance to really see each one with more focus. Their win ratio would be important today, but Marcel said the top three picked for team vetting weren’t always the three fencers with the fewest losses. During Jesse’s time, the best fencers had lined up with their wins. Still, it was important to see each boy here as a person rather than a statistic of wins to losses. Which was why seeing them each fence every other boy in the room was so beneficial.
Seven rounds of four bouts meant a long day, but Jesse and Coach Donati both liked to see each bout, which meant no splitting the rounds into two concurrent mini-rounds. This year, Jesse was especially glad for that understanding of theirs; he’d be able to catch each of Eugene’s bouts from start to finish.
Coach Donati called the first fencers to the strip and the day launched into action. The opening bout was over in a flash with a devastating win and the second was clearly won from the start, although Jesse saw now what Eugene meant. Daniel fenced circles around his opponent with intentional flair, positioning himself to show impressive techniques where a direct hit would have sufficed. He made note of it as Daniel swapped out with Eugene. Usually, Jesse didn’t mind showboating—if you could tease your opponent into position for a showy win and still won, that showed skill. Right now, Jesse felt himself biased against that sort of behavior.
Eugene’s bout was clear from the start as well, but it was a steady build rather than a bulldozing or a performance. It showed a solid foundation in both fencers and a solid respect, too, as they felt out the match and engaged without reckless abandon. The final bout of the round was a similar pace but with a much closer finish than Eugene’s.
“Reich was impressive,” Coach Donati said as they let all fencers rest for five as they discussed.
“Few fencers finish bouts so quickly,” Jesse agreed. Seiji was notorious for his brutal and efficient takedowns, but few people were like Seiji. “He got through all of yesterday’s eliminations by running down his opponents.”
“But when he was met with someone closer to his level,” Coach Donati said with a nod to Daniel, who had beaten him yesterday, “the flaws in his judgment show.”
“Exactly. He’s a well-aimed wild bullet.”
“A risk. We could train better habits into him.”
“Or let him loose on any team not to our level.”
“Hmm.”
As the next round began, Eugene and Daniel’s last opponents showed impressively against each other, leaving the final win to priority after time ran out. And as if to prove Jesse and his coach correct, Eugene beat Reich’s whip quick and electric attacks. He had the potential to be an asset, but Jesse didn’t honestly think he had the fire for improvement. Only the fire to light the fuse on his explosive lunges and flying flèches.
As the rounds progressed, Eugene and Daniel stood more and more apart from the crowd. Both stood undefeated—the only two without a single loss—and, more notably, each displaying the impressive ability to adapt and dominate a match against any opponent. Neither met someone they couldn’t compensate for any weakness in their natural style against their opponents', unlike Reich, who continued to win or lose quickly. But he’d only lost against Eugene and Daniel thus far, putting him in top three by the end of round six.
Coach Donati clicked her tongue as she looked down at the last lineup.
“And again we put our most promising against each other after many hours of competition,” she said with a sense of irritation.
Jesse swallowed the beaming smile he felt swell in his heart. Because he knew Coach Donati was counting Eugene as their most promising. Or one of them, at least.
“It’s good to see how they perform exhausted, but we should have them fence tomorrow morning before we get too deep into team practice,” Jesse agreed, earning a nod of agreement. Because there was no question they’d both be progressing to the final tryout no matter how this last round played out.
“Eugene and Daniel,” Coach Donati called, “you’re up. Reich and Yesi, you’re on deck.”
Jesse’s heart pounded as it hadn’t for any other bout today. He knew Eugene could win against Daniel. But he’d been skilled enough to win against him yesterday too. Jesse believed in him—he just had to hope Eugene believed he was good enough too.
“I’ll check blades,” Jesse offered, taking the keychain of tools from Coach Donati as she finished glowering down at her notes, as if displeased at them for the matchup she’d made herself.
Jesse checked Daniel’s first, then moved to Eugene. His work was as efficient here as it had been across the strip, but he risked a single sentence.
“You’re better than any of them, Eugene.” Better than Daniel or any fencer here. Better than every single person at Kings Row who had ever made him feel less than good enough.
Eugene grinned at him, the force of it blinding without his mask on to block it.
“I’ll win this one for you,” he promised.
“Win it for you.”
“I could,” Eugene agreed. “But I’d rather win it for you.”
Jesse bit his lip from responding. You weren’t meant to show favor or talk with the fencers about anything but their gear.
“Everything’s in order here,” he declared with a nod before backing off the strip to watch the proceedings.
Jesse was gratified to see that Daniel didn’t display his small tells of flippancy donning his mask to meet Eugene as he had each other time he’d stepped onto one today. He wondered if Eugene had noticed that.
Rather than coming back to this match with aggression and something to prove, Eugene met the engagement with intense sincerity. That was good. Eugene didn’t have anything to prove. And he’d learned from yesterday too—learned that letting insecurities take over made you a shit fencer. If it was a lesson he’d learned before, Jesse was glad he’d learned it again now. Eugene was not the same fencer he’d been a year ago—he had further to fall now than ever before and having all your hard work and reliable skill abandon you because you couldn’t handle your emotions was painful. Painful because if you’d just kept your head, you could have won and you knew it. Every. Single. Time. Which was why it was so important to learn; no matter how skilled you were, you couldn’t win if you couldn’t control it.
Today, Eugene controlled it. He controlled it all. Brilliantly. He controlled his emotions and his actions and every single second of the encounter. Even the second Daniel’s blade shot through to hit his thigh, Eugene controlled. He’d taken a calculated risk testing Daniel out and had found himself too slow to completely disrupt the path of the blade singing down his. But he could afford it. Because the score box lit with both red and green lights.
“Halt!” Coach Donati shouted. “Double.”
Double.
And Eugene’s final point. That was his fifteen.
Before his coach could even declare a winner, Jesse was moving, drawn to Eugene still on the strip—still tangled in his final hit.
He stopped abruptly, remembering himself and coughing awkwardly, taking a step back as he tried to pretend he hadn’t come over here to barrel into Eugene with an exultant hug.
“Very nicely done,” he said impartially. “We look forward to having both of you at team practice tomorrow.”
Daniel huffed a laugh as he tugged off his mask.
“The whole school knows you’ve been gunning for your boy to get the slot,” he said, the smirk on his lips more amused than malicious. “You’re not fooling anyone. Give him your congratulations kiss,” he finished with a tilt of his head toward Eugene.
“I would never,” Jesse gasped, face flushing hot. “I respect my team too much to let anything cloud my judgment in appointing a new member. I’m fully impartial and any relationship Eugene may have to me has no impact on the tryout process.”
“And he’s won it fair and square. I didn’t believe he was good enough to be here without your personal interest in him, but…you’re right to be excited he’ll make the team. Damn Hale, he won that bet.”
“Team practice is nine thirty tomorrow,” Jesse told Daniel with a disapproving frown. “I expect to see you there at nine to stretch and warm up.”
Daniel gave his acknowledgment, but it was close to flippant. As though he already knew the turn out of the bout he was about to step into. It was the same as Jesse had seen so many times from him today, stepping onto the strip. But also entirely different.
“So,” Eugene said with a growing smirk of his own, stealing Jesse’s attention from Daniel’s retreat. “Do I get that kiss or…?”
Jesse scoffed and swatted his chest with the back of a hand.
“I’m not kissing you. I was only too busy defending my honor to correct him about that too.”
Eugene laughed and wrapped Jesse in a hug, épée still connected to the wire snaked out of his glove. Jesse returned it without even a show of hesitation.
“You were brilliant,” he told Eugene.
“Told you I’d win it for you,” Eugene said, the words as warm as the hug. Jesse felt it in his chest, that rush of excitement and warmth of happiness.
“Labao! Unhook your blade before engaging in such behavior,” Coach Donati shouted, severe and scolding as always. “And next time, end the match properly. You will have to apologize to Daniel tomorrow for this disrespect.”
“You are spoiled fucking rotten,” Eugene whispered into Jesse’s ear. “This is all your fault and somehow I’m the one in trouble.”
“I can’t help it that everyone likes me,” Jesse reasoned.
“That’s the worst part,” he said, untangling from Jesse to disconnect his wire. “It’s too easy to fall into bad habits like that with you.”
Jesse wasn’t fully sure what Eugene meant by that, but he was fairly certain it was a good thing. The sort of thing that meant Eugene wanted to win important matches for him just because he could. Just because it made him happy.
Chapter Text
Daniel’s demeanor changed completely—or maybe Eugene’s perception had. The boy met the sight of him walking into the salle next to their shining captain with a smirk, and the spark of humor in his face made Eugene wonder how he’d gotten so angry with someone so obviously fun. But that was part of the problem, wasn’t it? Hard to see the way people hurt you when you liked them.
“Eugene! Hi!” Thomas called, waving with a cheery smile and stealing Eugene’s attention.
“Hey,” Eugene replied with an easy smile as he dropped his bag and turned to chat for a second before Jesse yelled at him for dawdling. For now, Jesse dawdled with him. “Missed you at tryouts one and two.”
“We’re meant to be unbiased,” Aster shrugged. “We don’t watch the early days.”
Unbiased was probably impossible this year, but Eugene didn’t point that out. It did make him feel a little bad, though. Not bad enough to regret any of his time biasing the twins this year. But still. He realized again how damn lucky he was to be here.
“Fencing firsthand is always better than watching anyway,” Eugene reasoned.
“Absolutely,” Thomas agreed.
“And speaking fencing,” Jesse started up predictably, “it’s about time you started gearing up. You’re the only one not ready to begin.”
“The only one other than the captain,” Eugene countered, nudging Jesse with an elbow. He huffed and marched off, taking his team with him.
Eugene shook his head and turned to his bag to actually get ready for the day. Biased or not, he needed to be in top form today. He intended to earn his spot on this team.
It was so easy to fall into place next to the three boys already possessing club pins as the day started. He already knew Coach Donati’s quirks and could read her wordless—often somewhat irritated—hand gestures as well as anyone and the warm ups and drills were all familiar to him.
“We’ll do a paired exercise now,” Jesse said, taking over from Coach Donati the way he sometimes did. Eugene knew she had him plan and monitor segments of practice. It was something he enjoyed about her and he knew Jesse took the responsibility seriously too. “We’ll have side go and side draw. Aster, if you would?”
Aster slipped on his mask and fell into place across from Jesse to demonstrate the exercise. It was simple enough: one partner drew the attack of the other and could only score through defensive action or feints while the other partner was tasked simply with attacking. It wasn’t a novel concept and Eugene had participated in exercises like it at Kings Row and the clubhouse as well as in this salle.
Eugene ended up paired with Aster while Daniel was summoned to Jesse’s side for it. Eugene was sure that was intentional on Jesse’s part. Trying to prove he held no favor for Eugene. It made Eugene’s chest tighten in warmth to call mental bullshit on that idea. Obviously Jesse was gunning for him to earn Exton’s fourth pin.
After the exercise, they did some open fencing and match analysis. It was somehow a long day and incredibly short. He was packing up to leave at five fifteen, covered in sweat and grinning.
“Have fun?” Eugene asked Daniel, who was pulling out of his jacket beside him.
“Watching you try to keep up?” Daniel grinned. “You know it.”
Eugene recognized the good natured and entirely unfounded trash talk for what it was: friendly conversation and maybe a bit of disappointment covered over with hyper competitive behavior. He played along happily; he knew the script well enough.
“Me? You’re the one who kept falling behind.”
“I’d say it’s unfair you’ve been fencing with the team for months,” Daniel started. And didn’t finish.
“But?” Eugene prompted with a raised eyebrow.
“But then I’d sound like a sore loser.”
“You need to make a better impression than that if you want my spot on the team next year,” Eugene grinned.
“Where do you plan on being next year?”
“College, hopefully.”
Daniel’s eyes widened in some interest, but he tried to hide it.
“I can play the long game,” he said. “Assuming Jesse doesn’t find a new pet underdog. No offense.”
Eugene found it too funny to be offended. He just laughed.
A sharp pair of claps had them both turning to the center of the room where Coach Donati stood. As they all watched, she crossed her arms and looked over all three of the hopefuls here today with severe regard.
“Thank you, gentlemen, for your interest in strengthening our program. There is much to think about and discuss, but you will hear from me by the end of the month. Dismissed.”
Chapter Text
“I’m not supposed to tell you anything,” Jesse said, meeting Eugene at his car. He didn’t even tell him off for leaning against the sleek silver hood and smudging it. “Which means Coach Donati won’t tell me anything solid because she’s sure I’m unable to keep news to myself for two weeks.”
“And? Is she wrong?”
“If you want to keep your best friend privileges, you need to lose the shit-eating grin.”
“No, I don’t.”
No, he didn’t. Jesse unlocked the car and shooed Eugene off it to let the door fold out like wings.
“Anyway, I am sure she’s leaning toward you. We’ve been working closely for two years, I can tell when she’s impressed. And she looks at you like she wants to win—which means she sees you helping her get that win. Also, her not telling me her decision after our debrief means good news. She’d tell me if you were out of the running to give me ample time to get over it, I’m sure of it. Not to mention, you are the absolute best candidate, which you proved at each step of tryouts.”
Eugene interrupted Jesse’s analysis with a laugh.
“Feeling the nerves too, huh?” he asked. Jesse set his lips in a line, biting at a frown.
“I do not babble when I’m anxious.”
“Yeah. You do.”
Seiji had never told Jesse he talked too much and too quickly when anxiety struck him, but he wasn’t entirely sure Seiji would have noticed. They’d been so in tune but somehow so blind to so many emotions. Jesse had always known Seiji the way he knew himself. Eugene knew Jesse in ways Jesse didn’t know himself.
But babbling seemed an embarrassing trait to have. So Jesse rejected it.
“We’ll know in two weeks,” Eugene said as he finally got in the car. Jesse climbed in too, starting his baby up with a smooth purr so opposite to the growl Eugene’s beast made when asked to wake up.
“Two weeks,” Jesse agreed. It was too far away. He didn’t want to wait so long to celebrate the good news.
Eugene had stayed with Jesse for basically all of the tryout process, but today, they drove to the Labao residence. It was a drive Jesse could make with no navigation system, although he wished Eugene could stay longer.
“I’m going on a fishing trip with my dad and Kyle this weekend,” Jesse said. “We always go over the summer.”
“How long will you be gone for?”
“Just three days.”
In the corner of his eye, Jesse saw Eugene nod slowly.
“I can survive three days without fencing you, I guess.”
“Would you like to come?” Jesse blurted. He hadn’t exactly asked Dad if it was okay to invite Eugene, but he knew it was. “I know Kyle’s not your favorite, but if you just give him a chance—”
“Yeah,” Eugene cut him off. “I’d love to come.”
“Perfect! You’ll enjoy it. It’s not entirely luxurious, but we do camp in comfort and you’ll like the lake even if you don’t fish. You could learn if you’re interested—Dad would be ecstatic to teach you but Kyle might be competitive, which I suppose suits you fine too. But my point is…” Jesse trailed off at Eugene’s laughter.
He did not babble when anxious.
Dad hadn’t had a problem with Eugene joining them on the fishing trip—he’d actually responded with I was wondering if you’d invite him to this one before Jesse had even gotten a yes out of him. But it had all worked out, so it didn’t bother him at all that his father was amused by it.
Not even a little.
Especially when Eugene knocked on the door the morning of their departure with a fresh fruit tart from his mom.
“Lots of strawberries,” Eugene said. “Just for you.”
“Oh, marvelous, now he’s got more mothers to spoil him,” Mom said, stopping behind Jesse to drop a kiss on his head and steal a slice of kiwi from the beautiful tart.
“Mom! Stop,” Jesse complained. “Ignore her.”
“Never,” Eugene grinned, plucking a strawberry off the tart and offering it to Jesse. He took it. But not happily. “Not when she says such wise words.”
“I knew I liked you,” Mom said, squeezing Jesse’s shoulder for some reason. “You boys have fun.”
“Not a fan of fishing?” Eugene asked.
“I’m more of a gardener.”
“That’s a lie,” Jesse said. “She can’t keep potted plants alive.”
His mom waved away the accusation like it was nothing.
“I never miss a beach or a ski trip,” she went on, “but it’s been a busy year for my nonprofit—too much to do and too little time. Next time, though. Can’t be letting you three have all the fun.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Jesse said loudly before Eugene could ask about her nonprofit again. It was sweet of him to be interested, but Jesse had heard it all before and didn’t feel like starting the trip with an hour of boredom. “Come help me load into the RV, Eugene.”
“Before or after you eat?”
Jesse looked down at the tart Eugene offered up with a cocked brow.
“Oh. After. But we have a lot to discuss. About fencing.” This was a hint to his mother, which she seemed to get, holding her hands up in surrender with a smile before sweeping away. Eugene seemed to get the hint too, laughing as he answered.
“Got it.”
“No,” Kyle said first thing when he climbed into the RV and saw Eugene. “Jesse, you’re not serious. Why do you have a Kings Row boy here?”
“I’m not a Kings Row boy anymore,” Eugene said easily, unconcerned.
Kyle looked him over, still frowning.
“Well, at least he’s not that other one, I suppose.”
“Nick,” Eugene said. “And he’s a good guy.”
“Annoying,” Kyle said. “That entire team is awful—almost as awful as MacRob.” This, Jesse knew, was in loyalty to him. Kyle hated MacRob and Kings Row never bothered him before Seiji had left Jesse for it. But he also knew that Eugene was loyal to a fault. Which meant there was a lot of room for conflict between the two, as Jesse had already known. “I guess you’re the least awful one from it.”
“Hey, thanks,” Eugene laughed, letting the comment go. “I’ve never heard that before.”
Jesse frowned at that, suddenly sure it was absolutely true. But before he could say anything of it, Kyle was sliding into place next to him and Eugene was being stolen by Dad to help strap things down in the trailer.
“Since when are you close with a Kings Row boy?” he whispered.
“He’s not with Kings Row anymore,” Jesse repeated. “He’s with me. And we met at State.”
“State? And you never told me?”
Jesse didn’t meet Kyle’s eyes.
“I don’t know, I just…wasn’t ready before. But I asked him on this trip to meet you.”
Kyle seemed surprised by that. And when Eugene climbed back in a moment later, his posture felt a lot less prickly.
“Fine, but it’ll take a lot to impress me.”
Chapter Text
The drive was long but not bad—especially traveling in comfort. Even with Kyle, who was sitting next to Jesse like a guard dog and giving Eugene sour looks the entire time.
“Have you ever set up a tent?” Coach asked when they arrived in the early evening.
“Sure,” Eugene said as he shouldered a pack and deposited it not fifteen feet away next to a clearly worn fire pit. “I go camping with friends sometimes. And I was in Boy Scouts.”
Jesse snorted beside him.
“Of course you were.”
“Great,” Coach continued without pause. “You three can start on the tents while I set up the RV.”
“Sounds good,” Eugene agreed, though he wondered how much help the other two-thirds of you three would really be. They left Coach to the RV and came the short distance to the pit and the various bags piled there. “You guys have done this a lot, yeah?” he asked as he pulled out the first tent from its bag and examined its bones. Putting it together would be no trouble.
“Doing what?” Kyle asked.
“Camping. Setting up camp. You know,” Eugene shrugged and swept an arm around, “this.”
“We don’t sleep in tents `,” Jesse said, waving his hand as if to clear that idea out of the air. “Dad’s just putting up the side shade on the RV and then he’ll come out up his tent. Kyle and I always stay in the RV—the tables convert into quite nice beds.”
“And…your dad sleeps in the tent? On the ground?”
“You say it like it’s such a bad thing to sleep on the ground,” Jesse said with dangerously squinting eyes. “Yet you imply through your tone that I should be sleeping on the ground instead.”
“Dude, your dad’s older than my folks and they get achy backs when they sleep on any bed but the one in their room. It’s common courtesy to offer him the bed.”
“Dad!” Jesse shouted. “Eugene just called you old!”
Coach just laughed and Jesse followed suit when Eugene knocked him with an elbow as if actually annoyed by the tattling.
“Uncle Robert likes camping,” Kyle added, crossing his arms and fixing Eugene with a frown. “He wouldn’t be in the RV even if we tried insisting on it.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Eugene shrugged. “Don’t disagree either. If you’re out on a camping trip, why are you sleeping in the car?”
“Bugs,” Jesse supplied.
“Feel free to use the extra tent yourself,” Kyle added. “You wouldn’t fit in the RV anyway.”
“Way ahead of you,” Eugene promised, starting to fit together one of the tents without any expectation for help.
Which was why he was so surprised when Jesse knelt next to him and started fitting poles together fluently.
“Dad has taught me how to do this all, you know,” he said to Eugene when he caught the pause in Eugene’s progress to stare. “Just because I prefer comfort doesn’t mean I can’t do all the macho bullshit just as well as you.” Jesse bent the pole he was sliding together, trying to fit it into place through the fabric. It sprang back with a vengeance, making Jesse jerk back. He looked over to Eugene’s section of tent, which he’d secured in place before putting the pole together. “Almost as well.”
“I’m happy for the help,” Eugene grinned. “And sorry if I implied you’re anything less than an extremely competent person with very little interest in being helpful.”
“Oh, hilarious. You build your tent alone and I’ll—oof!”
Eugene barreled into Jesse at speed, having abandoned his tent-building responsibilities to chase Jesse as soon as he turned away in a huff. He grabbed him around the middle and picked him a fraction of an inch off the ground to turn them both back around.
“I’m joking,” he said as Jesse hunched against the attack, partially curling up like a grumpy armadillo before discovering the tactic took his feet further from the ground and unfurled again. “I know you’re an incredibly competent person,” he continued, letting Jesse down. “And I know how helpful you are better than anyone seeing as how much I need your help.”
“But?” Jesse asked, hands on his hips.
“There’s not really a but. Just you keep surprising me, helping with stuff you don’t care about too.”
“You’re usually a faster learner than that,” Jesse said, but his scowl lightened.
“Yeah, no kidding,” Eugene agreed. He really had to learn how to keep his mouth shut sometimes. And separate Jesse’s expectation for pampering from his desire to help.
“Now get back to work. Those tents won’t build themselves and I won’t sleep in a shoddily constructed one.”
“So you’ll sleep in a properly constructed one?”
Jesse rolled his eyes, which was an obvious duh.
“Uh, yeah, I think I’ll be joining you in that shit sack too,” Kyle said.
Eugene had completely forgotten he was here. Which was impressive because now that he paid attention, he could feel Kyle’s glare.
“It’s a four-person tent,” Eugene shrugged. “We’ll all fit just fine.”
Kyle’s curling lip said plainly what he thought about the prospect. But then his eyes slipped briefly from Eugene to Jesse. And he sighed.
“Great,” he said before surprising Eugene by picking up Jesse’s abandoned tent poles and started helping the effort to construct the tents. It was obvious Kyle was only helping because Jesse was. He was trying for Jesse’s sake to be pleasant.
Eugene only watched him a moment before taking his lead and continuing with his own efforts. He’d have to try harder with Kyle this weekend too. Because he was important to Jesse.
“So, you were just in Ontario for a fencing competition last week, right?” he asked. Kyle shot him a confused—almost suspicious—glance. “I didn’t know there was an Ontario in California before Jesse mentioned it,” Eugene continued, not needing any encouragement from Kyle. “How’d that go?”
Kyle deemed the question trustworthy and shrugged.
“Well, I’m no Jesse—”
“No one is.”
“—but I placed fourth. I’d have placed higher but the asshole that beat me in direct eliminations stepped on my blade and broke it.”
“Which is why you always bring multiples to competitions,” Jesse contributed uselessly. Eugene was impressed at Kyle for not telling him to shut up.
“How’d that happen?” Eugene asked, ignoring Jesse’s helpful but annoying advice.
“I went for the foot but he was able to get out fast enough and then he stomped down on my blade when I tried to recover and the thing snapped. It was judged as an accident but I know it was a dirty tactic.”
“Really? How do you know?”
“Because I’ve fenced that particular asshole before and it’s exactly the sort of shit he’d pull. I got him back though,” Kyle added with a fierce smile. “He forfeit his next bout. He was a little preoccupied and missed the thing entirely.”
Eugene’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. “How’d you arrange that? Hide all his blades?”
“Something like that,” Kyle said noncommittally. “That actually happened to Jesse at Worlds once, didn’t it, Jesse?”
“Close enough. It was a mix-up that we figured out in time, but I thought for sure I’d been sabotaged. And I placed second because I was so rattled about the whole situation. I’d stayed up all night searching for them and only got them back right before I had to fence.”
“And did you get your revenge?” Eugene asked.
Jesse shook his head. “On who? The organizers of the event who gave my bag to the wrong person after checking it? Word would have spread that I’m difficult. Dad and I spoke with them after to make sure it wouldn’t happen again, but revenge makes for bad reputations.” Jesse grimaced. “Sorry, Kyle.”
“My revenge was worth it,” Kyle said without an ounce of shame or offense.
Eugene laughed. And then launched into some of his own stories of rivalries, sabotage, and revenge from years of being on competitive sports teams. It took them easily through the set up of the tents and conversation flowed on as they set out chairs under the hinging flap of the RV that was extended out as a shade. By the time they were finished setting up camp, the sun was slinking downward.
“Put your Boy Scout skills to some use and start the fire,” Kyle told Eugene as the temperature dropped.
“Usually I only take demands from Jesse, but I’ll make an exception since you asked so nicely.”
“That’s so untrue. You are helpful to a fault, Eugene,” Jesse said.
“Hey, I’m always happy to help people who actually do ask nicely.”
“I am being nice,” Kyle said. “Boys love to show off and I gave you an excuse. You’re welcome.”
“He makes a good point,” Jesse agreed.
“And who am I trying to impress with my Boy Scout skills again?”
“Me,” Jesse said, rubbing over his arms, which were starting to show the cold in goosebumps.
“Are you starting the fire?” Coach asked, apparently returned from the scouting mission he’d made to the lake. “That’s perfect timing. I was just about to suggest dinner.”
“I guess you’re impressing him too,” Kyle muttered to Eugene. “You’re welcome.”
Eugene shook his head with a smile, amused. But at least Kyle wasn’t glaring daggers at him for existing too near Jesse anymore.
Dinner was the perfect picture of camping, roasting hotdogs over the fire to stories and laughter that went on even as the fire started to die down.
“It’s about time for old men to go to bed,” Coach declared, standing with a grand yawn that the rest of them caught. “You boys be sure to put out the fire before you turn in.”
“Will do,” Eugene said.
“I think I’m ready for bed too,” Jesse said.
“I’ll start putting out the fire,” Eugene said as Jesse stood and retreated to the RV. Kyle wasn’t far behind Jesse, but Coach lingered to help snuff out the fire and clean up the camp.
“Forget something?” he asked when Jesse reappeared, now in warm sweats and socked feet in sliders.
“I’m sleeping in the tent,” Jesse told his father as though it was a ridiculous question. Coach raised his eyebrows at that but didn’t comment as Jesse climbed into it.
“Do you mind sleeping in tomorrow?” Jesse asked, causing Eugene to laugh as he crawled into their tent.
“I never mind sleeping in. Why? You gonna draw a mustache on me?”
“Dad and I always get an early morning in.”
“He means before dawn,” Kyle said, tucked between Jesse and the opposite side of the tent from Eugene. “And you’re not invited because you suck and will scare all the fish away.”
“Hey, you don’t even know if I suck yet.” Eugene protested. “Are you making him sleep in too?” he asked Jesse, paying him back for the laugh. Jesse shook his head as the laugh burst from him.
“Kyle doesn’t like fishing enough to stand hip-deep in cold water before the sun comes out. But if you want to come with us, you may.”
“To stand quietly and out of the way so I don’t scare off your fish? Nah, I’ll sleep in.”
“We’ll take you out in the afternoon so Dad can show you how to fish. The sun is better for learning.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Eugene woke groggily as Jesse stirred beside him, a quiet call for him to wake just outside the tent. Jesse groaned a yawn and tossed over in his sleeping bag, right into Eugene.
“Jesse, time to get moving. Early bird gets the worm.”
“Early fish get worms too,” Jesse grumbled, but he pushed himself up with another yawn and crawled out of the tent, probably going to get ready for the morning in the RV.
It wasn’t hard to fall back asleep, if a little colder.
The next time Eugene woke, he could tell it was going to stick. He was relieved to find his arms empty—Jesse was long gone and Kyle was still on the other side of his sleeping bag, which was good. Eugene knew it would have been a different story if Jesse were still here. But at least his subconscious had boundaries.
Sitting up, Eugene grabbed up his phone and checked the time. It was seven now, and Jesse had been gone for at least two hours. He ought to kill a couple more hours and actually sleep in. But that idea failed and fell away after half an hour.
It was half an hour after that that Jesse’s cousin joined him at the little table in the RV and made himself a matching bowl of cereal.
“So,” Kyle said, his tone already an accusation. Clearly his efforts of pleasantness were reserved for when Jesse was around. “What is so special about you?”
“By your standards? Jesse. He’s been helping me with fencing.”
“And by Jesse’s standards? Anyone who needs help with fencing isn’t good enough for my cousin.”
“Is anyone?” Eugene asked instead of arguing it. Obviously, he had Kyle there. “Isn’t that lonely, though?”
“So…” Kyle said slowly, arms crossed and eyes squinting. “You’re special because he’s lonely.”
Eugene paused. Thought about it. Shrugged.
“Yeah. I guess I am. Lucky to be the guy in the right place at the right time for it to matter too.”
“Well. At least you know it, I suppose.” Kyle eyed him then, his appraisal slightly less critical but incredibly intent. “How long have you been with him?”
Eugene processed the words carefully. They were loaded.
“We aren’t together,” he replied. Kyle looked nonplussed. “We’re friends.”
“Huh.” Kyle still looked a bit confused, but the information seemed to disarm his guard a little. “Well, good. I just can’t see Jesse with a Kings Row boy.”
“Yeah, me either.”
Chapter Text
The lake was quiet and peaceful this early. It was also a little-known spot that they’d held in secret since Jesse was a kid, rarely invaded by other people. Jesse waded into the water after his dad in the familiar ritual. Fishing was fine, but it was more Dad’s thing than his. He looked forward to it mostly because it was theirs.
He thought about the Labaos and all their overlapping voices and interwoven conversations. It was a good thing he was an only child—he’d have been terrible at sharing his parents’ attention like that. Maybe he could have done one sibling. Maybe. But definitely not four, even if their interwoven hearts and close love felt warm enough to be jealous of. Because the truth was, Jesse loved Kyle and looked forward to their camping trips, but he was glad Kyle slept through his pre-dawn fishing excursions with Dad. There was something special about these misty mornings.
“You’re looking happier these days,” Dad commented, surprising Jesse. They didn’t usually break the silence before a catch was ready to be wrestled with among cheers and laughter. And the observation itself was odd.
“I was never unhappy,” he answered, perplexed.
“No,” Dad agreed. “But you’re happier nonetheless. Especially since the fallout with Seiji. It’s good to see you so social.”
Jesse frowned.
“I’m a very sociable person.”
“You are. Perhaps invested is a better word.”
“How do you mean?”
“You and Seiji were always stuck so close together, there was never room for other relationships.”
“We didn’t need them,” Jesse said automatically.
“I remember,” Dad said with a faint smile.
“I’d hope so. It’s only been a little over a year since we were close; if your memory was deteriorating that fast, we’d be making an appointment with the doctor. Despite what Eugene says, you’re not that old.”
This was rewarded with a laugh.
“He’s good for you,” Dad said.
“What, Eugene? Because he encourages me to call you old?”
“Among other things.”
“Right,” Jesse said doubtfully.
“Have you thought about what you’ll do if Eugene doesn’t make the team?”
Jesse whipped around so fast his hook flew from the water, empty and disruptive.
“Do you know something? Did Coach Donati call—?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” Dad interrupted. “I have every confidence that Eugene will be offered a spot on your team. But what if he isn’t?”
“Then we’ll keep training just like we have this year.”
“Eugene’s going to be a senior, Jesse.”
“So? Maybe he could get into one of the universities I’m looking at on a fencing scholarship.”
“And if he doesn’t want to pursue fencing for a career?”
“Then we’ll fence together and compete in local tournaments. I don’t know. Why are you quizzing me on something so stupid?”
“Cast your line again. Try not to disrupt the water.”
“You’re the one who wanted to talk,” Jesse grouched. But he cast his line and found his center, quieting back into the peace of the early morning.
All the ripples were gone when Dad spoke again.
“You and Seiji were one and the same for so long, we never considered that you’d want different things.”
“I don’t need you to tell me Eugene doesn’t want all the same things as me because he already does that,” Jesse scowled. “Seiji never said he was unhappy until he left. But Eugene won’t leave me if he doesn’t make the team, and I don’t care if we never have the same goal after Exton. So you can stop worrying that I’ll be lonely again.”
“I thought so,” Dad said, finally content to let the morning’s peace quiet him too.
Jesse had hoped nobody would be awake when he and Dad trekked back to camp from their favorite fishing spot. Partially because he didn’t want Eugene and Kyle left unsupervised too long. Partially because he’d have liked to crawl back into the tent and take advantage of the extra body heat for a nap. Not that he usually went back to bed after morning fishing trips, but this morning was different.
But Eugene and Kyle were both awake. They were both at the folding picnic table set up under the shade of the RV’s awning and they seemed to be getting along just fine.
“Hey, Jesse!” Kyle greeted, noticing him first.
“How were the fish?” Eugene asked.
“That depends on who you ask. Dad’s cleaning up the catches we kept. Have you been up long?”
“An hour or so,” Eugene shrugged.
“And you stayed entertained?”
“We went for a hike,” Eugene grinned.
“Really?” Jesse asked, eyes sliding to his cousin. Kyle didn’t like hikes any more than Jesse did.
“Your dumb friend doesn’t understand that wandering off alone on camping trips is stupid. I knew you’d be upset if I lost him. So we went on a hike.”
Now Jesse turned his raised eyebrows on Eugene.
“You don’t believe in the buddy system?”
“Sure I do. But I wasn’t going far enough to need a buddy. When one showed up, I decided to take advantage. This is a really pretty spot you found.”
“Told you you’d like it,” Jesse said, pushing out a smile and not feeling even a little sad Eugene had gone off without him.
“We saw the lake from off the hill,” Kyle said. “You and Uncle Robert were visible too.”
“It’s a pretty view,” Eugene agreed.
“It’s prettier at sunset,” Jesse said, frowning. Had Kyle brought Eugene to that spot or had they stumbled on it accidentally?
“Cool, we can go tonight. We having fish for dinner?”
“Not me, but you are.”
“So…catching fish is fine but eating them is off the table?”
“One is fun and the other is gross. I don’t eat the people I beat in fencing either.”
“Now that’s an interesting concept,” Eugene said. “And a weird parallel to draw…unless you are a cannibal fencer and you’re trying to throw us off the trail.”
“Don’t,” Jesse warned, holding up a hand to stop Eugene. “I will get sick thinking about it.”
“You’re the one that brought it up.”
“And now I’m putting it back down.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
“At least you’ve learned that much,” Kyle said.
“What? Not to argue with Jesse? Is there anyone who hasn’t learned that much?”
“You argue with me plenty,” Jesse objected.
“Only when it’s entertaining,” Eugene returned with a wink and a grin. “Doesn’t mean I don’t know better, though.”
“Ugh,” Kyle said, pulling a face. “Are you sure you two are friends?”
“Best friends,” Jesse answered without missing a beat. He saw Kyle chew on the title—Kyle had, after all, been the one he called after his last best friend fled the country.
“Right,” Kyle said, the word stretching just slightly too long.
“Anyway, Jess, you should dry off and change. You look cold.”
Jesse was rather. He’d wanted to change and crawl back into bed for warmth. But that wasn’t an option with Eugene and Kyle both up.
“I’m going to take a shower,” Jesse said slowly, not sure if the quiet peace between his best friend and cousin was trustworthy.
“Shower?” Eugene asked, amusement coming over his face as bemusement turned to understanding. “Of course this thing has a shower. Does it run hot water?”
“Obviously. I can show you how it works,” Jesse dismissed. “I know you find that stuff interesting.”
At Eugene’s widening grin and Kyle’s judgmental eyebrows, the both of them silently asking really? in very different tones, Jesse decided he was especially disappointed either of them was awake.
“Not now,” he snapped. “I’m going to use it now. And I’m taking all the hot water.”
“Have fun,” Eugene said.
Kyle, the asshole, bid him off with a “don’t get lonely” and a smirk.
“Are you two ready for the lake?” Jesse asked when he was finished with his shower, dressed now in peach colored swim trunks with white trim fashioned almost like shorts and a white shirt, flip flops on and towel slung over a shoulder.
Eugene looked up, roving him over.
“I didn’t know I was supposed to be.”
“Well, hurry up. The sun’s perfect for it. And grab the floaty from the overhead compartment in the RV.”
“Sure thing, cap,” Eugene said with a mock salute.
It didn’t take long for them to change and join Dad at the shore he’d relocated to for cleaning the fish. Eugene blew up the lounging float without having to be asked and held it steady for Jesse to climb on.
“Bon voyage,” he said with a grin before pushing Jesse off with enough heft to propel him a good distance from shore. Joke was on him, though; Jesse was perfectly happy to float in the deep waters.
Donning his sunglasses, Jesse settled in for a relaxing afternoon.
Chapter Text
Kyle really wasn’t so bad, Eugene decided. At least, out of context. Or maybe in this context. Near fencing pistes and dressed in uniforms, he was a jerk. But he splashed in the lake with Eugene even as Jesse scolded them both whenever water sprayed over him. Really, when he was with his cousin instead of talking about him, he was much less annoying. And, more importantly, Jesse loved him. So they both understood getting along was the only thing Jesse would tolerate.
The late morning stretched into afternoon, and Eugene let himself float on the water. Jesse still wouldn’t play and Kyle had secured a floaty of his own, making the ill-advised decision to bring his phone. Eugene heard the low murmuring of a conversation through the water, but he doubted the cousins were talking about anything interesting enough to warrant breaking out of the water. Until Jesse shrieked.
“My—!” The scream pulled all attention to Jesse at once, and Eugene scrambled to orient himself in the water. But there were no sea monsters. No deadly currents. Not even a fire. Just Jesse on the floaty. Coach lost interest at that point, leaving the three of them to whatever crisis Jesse was having.
“What’s up?” Eugene asked, watching Jesse gape down into the water with what looked to be genuine offense. “What did you drop?”
“My sunglasses! Do you know how deep this water is? I’ll never find them! And I don’t want to get wet.”
“Didn’t you just spend three hours standing waist deep in the water this morning?”
“Yes. And now I’m resting in the sun.”
“What about teaching me how to fish?” Eugene asked with a grin that just meant he was poking for fun.
“Do I look like I’m dressed for fishing? You don’t wear swimsuits to fish. You wear them to sunbathe.”
“How’d you even lose them?” Eugene asked. Then saw Kyle, body twisted away from Jesse and phone clutched tight. Eugene knew a thing or two about keep away and nosy siblings. Or sibling adjacents, in this case. “You’re lucky it’s not his phone at the bottom of the lake,” Eugene told Jesse, an eyebrow lifting at his now surly friend.
“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Jesse snapped. “I just wanted to see what he was laughing at.”
“Find out after poker, not by starting a wrestling match in the lake.”
“What do you know about poker?” Kyle asked, tone as snappish as Jesse’s. Clearly, nobody was on Eugene’s side.
Jesse huffed and tossed himself back against his floating lounger. He had no one to blame but himself, and it was pretty evident that Jesse had no intention of grappling with the lake for his sunglasses.
“Give me a sec,” Eugene sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
With that, Eugene dove under the water and pulled himself to the murky bottom of the massive lake. It was good they were close enough to the shore that it was shallow enough to even reach the silt and rocks. But the white sunglasses weren’t anywhere Eugene could see before needing air. It took him six more dives, but he finally found the damn things nestled into a nice little crevice several feet from where Jesse had now drifted.
“Got them!” he declared as he burst from the water, hand held high and grin secured on his face as he pushed over to Jesse, delivering the glasses to him with a flourish that had little droplets of water showering down on Jesse’s sun-warmed skin. He seemed to sparkle under the sun’s influence of the droplets, which traced down subtle muscle. It would evaporate away soon enough, and Jesse didn’t even yell at Eugene for splashing, eagerly snatching the glasses and inspecting them for damage. The lenses cast colorful shadows over him as he tilted them this way and that.
“Thank you,” Jesse said, finishing his assessment and apparently finding their condition acceptable. “You didn’t have to dive for them.”
“Didn’t look like you were likely to,” Eugene shrugged. “We wouldn’t want to litter.”
A loud snorting punctuated Eugene’s words.
“Right. Littering. That’s what you care about here.”
Kyle wasn’t wrong for his sarcasm, but Eugene still flipped him off. Jesse looked pleased enough. He would be. Jesse knew as well as Kyle and Eugene that he was the reason Eugene had looked for those glasses.
“Come on, your glasses are wet so why don’t we put them back with your dad to dry and get you into the water? Aren’t you burning hot by now, anyway?” Eugene squinted. “Or maybe just burning. When’s the last time you reapplied sunscreen?”
Jesse’s lips twisted as he set an unenthused look on Eugene.
“When we got here. It hasn’t been that long. I’m not burning.”
Eugene laughed. He’d expected more of a reaction out of Jesse, freaking out from the mere thought of a burn marring his perfect skin.
“Fine, you’re not burned yet. But you should reapply before getting in the water.”
“Who says I’m—Eugene!”
Eugene continued to propel Jesse back to the rocky beach, plucking his sunglasses from the perch in his perfect hair when they got there.
“Sunscreen,” Eugene said. “Go.”
Jesse didn’t make a move to get off his floaty, only crossed his arms to glare. Simply because he didn’t like being told what to do. So Eugene gave him a grin and climbed from the water himself, carefully arranging Jesse’s sunglasses by the sunscreen. It was inevitable that Jesse would come to retrieve them.
But Eugene got distracted on his way back to the water, curious about the tackle box Coach was organizing so fastidiously a little ways down the sloping shore. Coach was happy to explain what the benefits of different hooks and bait were when asked.
“Eugene!” Jesse called, cutting through his dad’s explanation of Siwash hooks. Eugene looked around for the source of his voice, finding his floaty empty on the shore. Jesse himself was waist deep in the water, looking back at Eugene over a shoulder. “Weren’t you coming in?” The impatience in his voice would have anyone thinking Eugene was the holdup in the situation.
“Go on,” Coach said with a fond smile. “Fishing can wait.”
Jesse wasn’t sleeping. If Kyle was, Eugene had no clue how he’d managed it when Jesse was tossing and turning with so many little hisses and exclamations of discomfort.
“You burned, didn’t you?” he asked.
“Don’t gloat, it’s unbecoming.”
“Why would I gloat when you’re hurting? But you should listen to me next time. Your skin burns fast.”
“You threw off my internal clock by meddling.”
“Wow. You really can make everything someone else’s fault, can’t you?” Eugene bumped a shoulder against Jesse’s to say he was joking. Jesse’s gasp was proof that it was the wrong move. Eugene winced. “Sorry,” he said, realizing shoulders would be one of the victims of today’s beating sun.
“This is miserable,” Jesse complained. “It’s only the first day and now I’ll be unable to swim the rest of the trip.”
“Listen, I packed aloe vera in case sunburns happened. It’s in the RV. Come with me and I’ll grab it for you.”
“Do you burn?”
“Not like you, that’s for sure.” Eugene was already crawling to unzip the tent. “You coming?”
“I tan beautifully, I’ll have you know,” Jesse sulked, but he crawled out after Eugene. “Timing is everything in maintaining the tan without tipping into the burn zone.”
“And I threw you off,” Eugene finished as he crossed the distance to the RV, pulling the door open and flipping on the light. After they were both up the steps, Eugene looked Jesse over under the light. “Your face doesn’t look so bad, really.”
The look of offense was worth the lost sleep.
“With lines like that, Eugene, it’s a wonder you’re still single.”
“Single? Who ever said that?” he asked, only to laugh at Jesse’s expression. “Kidding, kidding. Anyway, you just look rosy-cheeked and all that. Definitely could have been worse.”
Jesse glowered.
“Just get the aloe,” he instructed.
It didn’t take long; Eugene knew exactly where it was.
“Okay, let’s see the damage,” Eugene said, unscrewing his plastic jar of aloe vera and turning back to Jesse.
Jesse grimaced before pulling off the Exton hoodie he’d gone to bed in. Without a shirt on underneath, apparently. Eugene couldn’t repress the low whistle at the undeniably impressive sight.
“Is it bad?” Jesse asked.
“It could be worse,” Eugene said. “But…yeah, it’s the brightest red I’ve ever seen you in.”
Jesse sat down with a groan. He had a red cable-knit sweater he was fond of—Eugene had seen that garment more than a couple times over the winter months.
“Do you think it will peel?” he asked worriedly. “It’s so gross when they crack and peel. I really hope it doesn’t.”
Eugene shrugged.
“It’s not a guaranteed thing either way, really. But this should help,” Eugene said, handing the jar to Jesse. “And I’ll get you a glass of water. You’ll want to stay hydrated to decrease the chance of peeling.”
“My third-grade teacher had a lizard thing as a classroom pet—”
“Don’t pretend to me you’re too cool to know what type of lizard it was.”
Jesse huffed.
“Fine, she had a leopard gecko, and it would shed its skin sometimes, which didn’t seem so bad until it started eating it. I always feel like that lizard when I peel.”
“Then you should stop eating the shedded skin,” Eugene suggested, putting the cold water down lightly on the table Jesse sat at.
Jesse snatched fistfuls of Eugene’s shirt, holding him tight just where he was. He was too surprised by the sudden yank to do anything about it.
“I will throw up on your socks, Eugene,” Jesse threatened.
“You’re the one bringing it up!” Eugene defended, but he was laughing, even as Jesse held him in puking range.
“I was merely trying to impart to you how distressing I find my skin peeling off!”
“So let’s try to avoid that,” Eugene said, shaking his head in continued amusement even as his voice softened for Jesse. He was released and allowed to step away.
“Can you help?” Jesse asked, standing and indicating the open jar next to his water with a tilted head. “I can’t tell where I’m burned. Or reach my back.”
Eugene was a little startled by the request, but he’d have offered it himself when Jesse got to his back. He just hadn’t expected to be asked from the start. But he took up the jar without even nodding to show his agreement—it just wasn’t necessary. Jesse already knew he’d help.
“I’m going to start with the worst of it,” Eugene decided, looking Jesse over. He was pink-cheeked with red tinging the crest of both ears, like he’d been fencing too hard or stayed out in the sun for a little bit too long. But his shoulders, chest, and back were all painful shades of red. The tops of his shoulders were the angriest of them.
Jesse hissed when Eugene touched the aloe vera against his shoulder, but it wasn’t a sound of pain or even discomfort this time. Simply a reaction to a strong sensation.
“It’s cold,” he said in explanation. “It feels nice.”
“I bet,” Eugene said, spreading the melting gel across skin that was hot to the touch. “No wonder you couldn’t sleep.”
Jesse hummed his agreement softly, a little pitifully. It was plain to see how painful the burns were in the tension on Jesse’s face easing ever so slightly as relief washed over him under Eugene’s hands. He extended that relief down Jesse’s back, the unnerving heat like the sun trapped under it pressing against his hands in return.
“Drink more water,” Eugene advised. There wasn’t really much to do when treating sunburns, but Jesse listened to what little advice he could offer. Not that it would help quickly enough to pull the heat from his skin.
Finished with Jesse’s back, Eugene stepped around to face him head-on, only to find that Jesse had already sat back down at the little table, which wasn’t convenient at all—but at least he’d waited for Eugene to finish with his back before plopping back down. So Eugene let him be, tipping up his face for a couple quick swipes across cheeks and skimmed over the arcs of ears. Then he dropped to his haunches before Jesse and grimaced again at all the pale skin scorched red.
He started back at Jesse’s shoulders, going over the tops of them again for good measure and dragging the aloe vera down and across Jesse’s collarbones. Jesse’s eyes closed as Eugene continued to ease away what he could of the pain, but he shivered lightly when Eugene’s hands touched down against his ribcage and pulled down the slopes of his waist. His stomach had escaped burning from being in the water, but his chest was as painfully red as his shoulders and back.
It didn’t escape Eugene’s notice that he’d put this part off for last. He was aware of his awareness of the skin and muscle he’d been tasked with touching. He had to roll his eyes at himself internally. This was just Jesse and he was just helping. So he brought new gel to Jesse’s skin, smoothing it down the slight muscle of his chest. Despite meaning to be fast in slathering Jesse up the way he would anyone else, his hands refused to be anything other than careful and light. Jesse always seemed like the sort of boy to treat gently. Not that it stopped Eugene from roughhousing and teasing, but this was different.
When Eugene’s careful work met the crest of Jesse’s chest, he shivered again.
“Ah—sorry, I can do the rest,” Jesse rushed to say, pulling the jar toward him on the table. “I might as well just cover everything.”
But Eugene had already gotten everything else. And he knew there was something here that they’d both pretend away. Something in the careful avoidance of touching Jesse’s chest that inherently made it intimate to cross. Something in the little gasp and added heat to Jesse’s skin. Something in the way Jesse had asked Eugene to help and the way Eugene hadn’t hesitated. But it was a small something, a tiny something in the scope of everything they were. So it was an easy thing to let fly past without much thought and ignore whenever it fluttered through.
“You also might as well sleep in here tonight. No point tossing and turning and aggravating those burns.”
“I thought comfort was for old people.”
“Old people and injured people. Anyway, your dad’s not even in here.”
“I know—that’s what I told you to begin with, but did you believe me? No, you called me spoiled.”
“Did I?”
“It was at least implied.”
“Well, now you have an excuse to be spoiled.”
“I don’t need excuses for anything,” Jesse said as he started to tend his burns himself, wincing at the application.
“Of course not,” Eugene huffed with a smile as he turned to leave. “Sleep well, Jesse.”
“Eugene—!” Jesse called abruptly before Eugene could get very far. He looked back at the summons, waiting. Jesse fidgeted a moment. “If I stay in the RV tonight, will you stay with me? It’s just that you’re my best friend and I shouldn’t really be trapping you and Kyle in a tent together when I’m not even there.”
Chapter Text
“Sure, of course,” Eugene said, turning with a smile. Jesse smiled back, an unexpected relief washing over him.
“Do you know how to set up the bed?”
“Tell me where to find it and I’m sure I can figure it out.”
Jesse directed Eugene to the table as he stood from it, taking up his shirt and his water so Eugene could convert it to their bed. While he did, Jesse moved to the mirror in the bathroom, ready to assess the damage himself.
It wasn’t pretty.
Literally.
Jesse frowned at his reflection, the bright red of his skin an ugly and painful blemish all across his shoulders and chest. His face wasn’t rosy either; it was properly burned, though not as badly as his body. He couldn’t help but crinkle his nose in distaste at the sight. A mistake, as it turned out. Any extra movement only aggravated the burned skin of his nose and cheeks, causing discomfort. Movement and friction were both terrible for sunburns. Jesse looked down at the shirt in his hands, contemplating how much discomfort he’d suffer for putting it back on.
“Don’t bother,” Eugene said, noticing his grimace. “It’s warm enough in here anyway. No need for blankets or shirts.”
Jesse wasn’t convinced. It seemed somewhat rude to share a bed with someone when not entirely dressed.
“I could take mine off if it would make you feel better,” Eugene offered, causing Jesse to laugh.
“Please don’t. Kyle would be very judgmental.” But Jesse cast his own shirt down with a sigh. “I should have listened to you.” The remaining days really would be miserable.
“Things’ll look up tomorrow. We’ll just set you up in some shade with a fruity drink with an umbrella in it and you’ll back seat fish from the comfort of your nice, cushy chair. And for tonight, we’ll make do. Here we are, all done,” he finished, prompting Jesse to return his attention to the bed. It was just about the size of his bed at school and was set up with all the pillows and blankets, but…
“Why is there a wet towel on my side?” Jesse asked impatiently.
“For the cold. Sleep on your back and try not to roll around so much. The cold should help relieve some of the discomfort from lying on your burn and let you get to sleep. And don’t forget to keep drinking that water.”
Jesse picked up the glass and took an unenthused drink. He wasn’t thirsty, but he’d do anything to avoid the lizard treatment. Then he considered the towel, slightly less displeased with it than before.
“But you’ll get cold and damp too,” he pointed out.
“Injured people get special treatment, remember? It’s not even close to the worst circumstances I’ve slept in.”
“Then thank you,” Jesse said hesitantly.
“Sure thing.”
Eugene waited while Jesse got situated, positioning the towel so it would press only against bare skin, then turned off the light and climbed into bed. Heat radiated from him like the sun, but Jesse didn’t complain. He didn’t even mind. He was surprisingly comfortable and it didn’t take long for sleep to come.
Jesse startled awake with a loud bang and the ring of his cousin’s voice.
“You’re kidding me. You dragged me out to the tent just to crawl back in here yourselves?”
“No one made you join us in the tent,” Eugene said through a yawn.
Kyle made a rude noise.
“Like I’m leaving you alone with my cousin—look at him, he hasn’t even got a shirt!”
“Kyle!” Jesse barked, sure his blush blazed bright enough to see even under his sunburns.
But Eugene just laughed.
“Payback for harassing him about the phone,” Eugene said, sitting up to lean in close to Jesse with what probably would have been a soft elbowing if not for the burns covering any place Eugene would usually nudge.
“Whatever. Just hurry up and get dressed. I can’t believe Uncle Robert lets you two sneak around like this.”
“There was literally no sneaking involved,” Eugene defended.
“There’s no reason to sneak either,” Jesse added, only to be met with rolling eyes before Kyle turned to leave.
“You two get along like siblings,” Eugene mused with a smile. Jesse frowned in contrast.
“Not usually. It’s your influence that’s made him more temperamental.”
“You sure about that? Because it seems to me he’s treating you more like a sometimes-annoying brother more than an always-perfect idol. Which is way better in my opinion.”
Eugene left Jesse to think about that, standing with a stretch and another great yawn. Jesse watched him disappear into the little bathroom and heard the tap turn on to brush his teeth. He was right, but Jesse hadn’t realized it. Kyle had always been his friend, so the change hadn’t been drastic until they had things to be annoying about. Like phones and boys and secrets and split attention. The shift had happened some time recently, he was sure. And he was also sure that it was all because of Eugene, in a way.
“Are you ready to get back to it today?” Dad asked as Jesse climbed from the RV, dressed in casual khaki shorts and a light blue short-sleeved polo. Casual fishing didn’t call for waders, and Jesse was still too tender to go hard today anyway.
“Let’s do it,” Eugene answered for them. Even though he’d never been at it in the first place. “I’ve always wanted a picture with me and a massive fish I just caught.”
“Don’t get your hopes up for that happening today,” Jesse told him, worry temporarily creasing his brow. “Catching anything as a first-time fisher is impressive enough.”
“You can have a picture with a tiny fish,” Kyle suggested. “We could stop by the pet store on the way home.”
Eugene barked a laugh and slapped a hand on Kyle’s shoulder to jostle him in that friendly, boyish way he was with everyone. It was hard not to get along with Eugene—you basically had to try for it to work. It was a good thing he and Kyle were getting along.
“I’ll catch more fish than you by the end of the trip!”
“Fat chance. I’ll have at least double your pile. Isn’t that right, Jesse?” Kyle asked, looking back at him. Jesse realized he’d fallen two steps behind and had to kick into gear to make pace again.
“I told you he’s competitive,” Jesse told Eugene with a smile.
“Must run in the blood. Good thing I’m competitive too. Catch you at the lake—I’m gonna help your dad with the stuff.”
Jesse nodded and watched Eugene veer off to help collect fishing poles and Dad’s tackle box.
“He’s helpful,” Kyle commented. “Is he trying to get on your dad’s good side or what?”
“No,” Jesse said with a faint smile. “He’s just like that. Genuinely nice and helpful all the time.”
“I guess there’s a certain appeal to that,” Kyle said grudgingly. “He probably holds open doors for you and all that. Fine, he can stay. If your shirt stays too.”
Jesse gave an obliging laugh. It wasn’t surprising that Eugene had won Kyle over, but Jesse had to wonder what they’d talked about without him yesterday. They were very nearly friendly.
“What about the boy you’re seeing?” Jesse asked. “Does he hold open doors?”
Kyle’s neck flushed and his hand slapped over a spot on his neck. If there had been a hickey there, Jesse hadn’t spotted it, but Kyle obviously had reason to believe there might be evidence.
“He’s not even worth talking about.”
“Are you sure? He sure seems like a notable piece of your life right now.”
“You and your best friend are closer to boyfriends than we are. And that’s the way I like it. He’s a goon.”
“Then why are you seeing him?”
Kyle made a sharp clicking sound with his tongue. Exasperation. Either at Jesse or at himself.
“Because I don’t make good decisions, mostly,” Kyle said.
That wasn’t a reassuring answer and Jesse wondered if he ought to be worried for his cousin. But Kyle moved them past the subject with blunt force and Jesse let it go, moving on to answer questions about competitions Jesse had attended that Kyle already knew the answer to.
“You’re doing it wrong,” Jesse said, abandoning his drink the way he’d already abandoned his nice spot in the shade to try wrestling Eugene’s pole into order. “Like this—no, don’t hold it so—there, much better.”
“I’m holding it the exact same way as three seconds ago.”
“The fact that you can’t even tell the difference is a bad sign,” Jesse frowned, only to catch Eugene’s secret smile, tucked behind twinkling eyes. Eugene was just playing dumb to mess with him. "Kyle was right about that sad, tiny little fish you’ll be lucky to catch."
Eugene’s laugh echoed across the lake.
"You’re a better teacher than that," Eugene said. "Now show me how to cast this thing."
So Jesse did. He had to demonstrate several times and adjust Eugene’s hold even more, but Eugene was right. Jesse couldn’t let anyone under his tutelage fail.
"Am I allowed to talk, or is this silent time?" Eugene asked, breaking the quiet.
"We can talk. You won’t be catching anything anyway."
"Hey! Have some faith, Jess."
Jesse shook his head.
"You’ll build up to it. If you keep coming with us to fish."
"Is that a standing invitation?"
"Yes," Jesse said without thinking about it. Because he was sure his parents wouldn’t mind Eugene joining him in anything. They’d never needed warning or explanation from Seiji—though Seiji always provided at least the former and often the latter as well.
"Then I’ll have to take advantage of it." Eugene said it with a wink as though he thought he was being roguish and facetious when Jesse would gladly let Eugene invite himself to anything he wanted.
Chapter Text
"Did you have a fun trip?" Mom asked, greeting Eugene with an open door even before he got to the front step. She’d been watching for him.
"Yeah! It was great. I caught a fish and everything."
"Did you feel bad for it?"
"A little," he admitted with a laugh. "How’d you know?"
"I know you," she smiled. "But you can explore fishing more later."
That was not a statement. That was a segue.
"Oh?" Eugene prompted.
"Right now, you should focus on fencing."
Jesse and Seiji were the only people to ever tell Eugene he needed to obsess over fencing more. Why was—
"The letter came?" he asked with surging excitement.
Mom’s beam was answer enough, and she pulled an envelope out of nowhere and handed it to him, right there on the doorstep. It was only fitting; this was always where he delivered the news. It had only been good news once. And even then…
Eugene shook off the thoughts of last year’s false promise and focused on the letter in his hands, on slipping a finger under the seal and carefully ripping it open. Either he made the fencing team at Exton or he’d go a last year at Kings Row only fencing with Jesse. And that wasn’t a half-bad consolation prize.
Eugene Labao,
Due to the admirable skill, dedication, and spirit of collaboration you demonstrated during this year’s tryouts for our esteemed fencing team, Exton Boys’ Academy would like to offer you an athletic scholarship to our school.
Your scholarship is contingent on your acceptance of a spot on the fencing team and grades of no less than a B+ in all courses. Further details on what a full scholarship to our academy entails are available upon request. Your advisor and point of contact will be your coach, Ms. Alessandra Donati.
Please give notice of your response at your earliest convenience.
Liam Headsworth
Exton Boys’ Academy Principal
959-921-0555
Eugene stared down at the words, reading and rereading them. Making sure they were real.
"Eugene?" There was a soft worry to the name.
Eugene looked up, grinning.
"I made it, Ma! I really made it—for real this time."
He laughed with relief and joy and excitement as he hugged his mom so tight, she lifted off the ground, joining his laughter with a hug just as tight.
"I knew you would, Gene," she told him. "You’ve always been talented, but watching your fencing tournaments this year…I saw a champion."
"Thanks, Ma," he said, quiet to avoid choking on emotion.
"Go call Jesse. We’ll tell everyone here over a celebratory dinner."
She really did know him. Because the first thing he wanted to do after telling her was chase down the RV that had just dropped him off to tell Jesse too.
He settled for a call, leaving the letter with his mom as he went to his room, already dialing.
"Did you forget something?" Jesse asked on the first ring. "Or did you just get lonely?"
"You’re insufferable. I can’t believe I have to spend a whole year with you."
"Just for that, if you did forget something, we’re not turning around to—wait. Do you mean—? Did you get the—?"
"I’m on the team," Eugene’s grin stretched even wider at Jesse’s exultant cry of excitement.
"Turn around!" he shouted. Not to Eugene. "We have to turn around now!"
"We’re celebrating over dinner tonight," Eugene said as he heard Coach’s worried questions in the background. "You two should join us."
Eugene woke up with the glow of celebration still all around him. And a touch of disbelief too. He’d worked for this all year—arguably, he’d worked for this, a real place on a fencing team, for years. But it felt impossible to make it now that he had.
And while Mom’s eyes gleaming with bright emotions and Jesse’s tackling hug and Coach’s simple I’m not surprised Alessandra saw what we do all filled his chest with warmth, there was still a pulling pit in his stomach. One he’d been ignoring all summer—all year—because success hadn’t felt like a sure enough reality.
But it was time to face reality with every warmth and pit it had to offer. So Eugene pulled out his phone.
It was good to see Nick, and Eugene caught a grin as he went to meet his friend outside the ice cream shop that had become their landmark in this town. Though it hadn’t been since fall break that Eugene had actually visited Nick’s town.
“It’s good to see you,” he said, grabbing Nick in a quick hug. “Sorry I’ve been off the radar.”
“No worries,” Nick returned with a sheepish shrug. “I haven’t been keeping up with most people either.”
“Seiji?” Eugene asked, only for Nick’s sheepishness to fall right into a scowl.
“I wish I wasn’t keeping up with him as much as I am.”
“Yeah? How do you unwillingly keep up with a boy who lives in another town?”
“I asked Williams if she could spare some time for training me during the summer.”
Eugene nodded. Her summer intensives were exclusive and supposedly brutal. His applications had never been accepted.
“She said yeah, but I guess she conned Seiji into joining too, and she has us working together basically all the time when she’s not giving personalized coaching to me. Dmytro—Seiji’s personal coach—is pissed about it.”
Eugene tried to hide his surprise at Nick’s personal attention from Coach Williams. Nick didn’t notice it, and Eugene swallowed down the burst of jealousy quickly enough with thoughts of all the personal help the Costes had given him all year.
“How’s Seiji feeling about it?”
“Irritated. But he won’t say because he technically agreed to it and he doesn’t like the idea that he’s got a reputation for throwing fits so he’s being well behaved.”
“Who’s stupid enough to imply he’s got that sort of reputation? Other than you, I mean,” Eugene laughed.
Nick grinned as big as Eugene had ever seen.
“Coach Williams herself. Seiji opened his mouth when she paired us together and she told him she had other students to help so he’d have to save this fit for after that. And he’s kept his mouth shut since.”
“That’s basically brilliant of her.”
“Yeah. And true. He does complain a lot.”
“So do you,” Eugene pointed out, shoving at his shoulder. “Both of you were always pointing fingers at each other all year.”
“Whatever, at least I’m not entitled about it.”
“Right. So, tell me all about the infamous summer intensive.”
Nick enthusiastically dove into everything he’d been learning all summer, detouring into funny stories and rants about Seiji. But despite what Nick thought, he and Seiji seemed to be getting along just fine.
It was nice to spend an afternoon with Nick, just wandering around town and chatting, finally settling down on a hill overlooking the little town. He remembered days like this in the fall, thinking he could get used to this. Feeling in his gut that Nick was the sort of friend to have forever.
“Hey,” Eugene said when the sky started darkening and the conversation had lulled comfortably. “I wanted to tell you before school starts so you’re not blindsided, but I’m…not coming back to Kings Row.”
Nick stared at him, dumbfounded and slack-jawed.
“What? Why not? Is it a tuition thing—?”
Eugene shook his head.
“No, it’s not like that. I’ve been thinking of transferring for a while, but I couldn’t decide. I hate to leave Kings Row, but…” Eugene grimaced. “But when I started thinking about the school year starting, I felt—not great imagining that all at Kings Row.”
“I’m sorry,” Nick said with concern. “That sucks. Do you wanna talk about it, or…?”
“Nah. I’ll miss you, though. I’ll miss a lot about that school.”
“Where are you going instead?” It was asked quietly.
“Exton.” It was answered guiltily.
Sure enough, Nick’s face shifted. Quiet concern turned to fire eyes and clenched fists.
“Jesse,” he hissed. Eugene couldn’t even deny it. “He’s doing this to get back at us for Seiji—that piece of—!”
“Nick, calm down. I want you to go back over what you just said and see if you can spot how stupid you sound. Get back at Kings Row because Seiji decided to fence there?” Eugene snorted with a single shake of his head. “Man, I wasn’t good enough to stay on the team. Why would Jesse bother poaching me?”
“He’s a manipulative little—oh.” Nick stopped dead. Maybe realizing how stupid he sounded after all. “If this is about the reserve stuff, I’m sure this year will be different.”
“It will be,” Eugene said, standing up and offering Nick a smile and a hand. “I’m gonna make it different. Exton offered me a scholarship, and I officially accepted last night.”
“What?” Nick asked blankly, like he hadn’t thought Eugene was being anything but wistful. Nick took Eugene’s hand and stood with him. “I guess I’ll see you on the piste then.”
“That’s the plan.”
Chapter Text
“Are you sure you don’t want help?” Dad asked as Jesse checked his phone again. Then looked out the thin but tall windows framing the front doors.
“I’ll have Eugene,” Jesse dismissed.
“It doesn’t seem sporting to have your newest teammate carry all your bags up to your room.”
“I can carry my bags! Eugene will help with anything I can’t do alone. And I’m helping him move in too, so it’s perfectly sporting.”
Dad laughed, putting his hands up in surrender.
“I won’t get in your way, then.”
Jesse shot his father a look, not entirely sure what that comment meant, but movement in the driveway caught his eye.
“He’s here!”
Grabbing his backpack and sports bag—the most important of his luggage—Jesse flung open the door to meet Eugene’s car as it stopped.
“Where’s all your stuff?” Jesse asked, yanking open the backseat’s door, expecting to have to do some major rearranging to fit his possessions in the car.
“Jesus Christ, how much stuff do you have?” Eugene asked, standing beside Jesse but looking back at the house.
“Just what you see there. Seriously, is this all?” Two suitcases, a duffle bag, a backpack, and a sports bag were tucked neatly behind the drivers seat.
“There’s a box in the back too, but yeah. And this is after my mom decided I needed the whole freshman care package just because I’m at a new school. Seriously, you haven’t got more hiding behind the doors or anything, right?”
“No, that’s all,” Jesse confirmed with a wave of his hand back at the house.
“Then I guess I’ll get to it.”
Jesse nodded, taking care in situating his bags safely with Eugene’s before going to help with the rest of his stuff.
“Jesse’s not a light packer,” Dad was saying when Jesse joined him inside with Eugene.
“No kidding,” Eugene agreed, hoisting a load of boxes into his arms. “Jess, can you grab the trunk?”
Eugene’s beastly car didn’t have a true trunk in Jesse’s opinion, but he did pull open both car doors that opened into the very back of the car to allow Eugene to slide the boxes into place. Dad deposited two suitcases there next. With a frown, Jesse climbed in to rearrange the haphazard dumping of things. And he was all but stationed there for the remainder of the loading; each time he was ready to climb out, new piles were carelessly left for him to fit into place.
“Alright, get on out of there,” Eugene said, offering arms up for him. “We’ll box you in if you stay put.”
Without a second thought, Jesse fought to the lip of the so-called trunk and took Eugene’s shoulders, letting him lift him out by the waist.
“See?” Jesse said triumphantly, turning to his dad, who held the final box in his arms. “I told you I’d make it fit.”
“I should never have doubted you,” Dad answered, sliding the last of the luggage perfectly into place before Eugene closed it all in. “And you’ve got room to spare.”
“Anything else you wanna grab while we’re here?” Eugene offered. Two-thirds of the backseat was free.
“As long as there’s extra room anyway,” Jesse decided after consideration. “I’ll bring my spare bedding after all. Exton provides perfectly adequate bedding, of course, but I prefer to bring my own. Wait one second while I grab it.”
“Got it,” Eugene said with a thumbs up before turning to his dad. Jesse wasn’t sure what they were talking about, but by the sound of his dad’s laugh as he dashed back into the house, it was about him.
“Are you excited?” Jesse asked twenty minutes later on the road to his school with Eugene. Their school.
“Hell yeah I am,” Eugene said with a grin that was somewhere between fierce and genuine. He glanced over at Jesse, his smile softening and turning more amused than jubilant. Jesse had never met someone with such a vast array of facial expressions just in their smiles. “Maybe not as excited as you, though. You’re basically vibrating in your seat.”
“Well excuse me for being happy my best friend’s on my team now.” But Jesse tried to still some of his excitement. It wasn’t very suave to be acting like a hyper chihuahua in his overexcitement. He didn’t usually behave in such embarrassing ways. But— “We did it, Eugene. We really did it. You made it, and I helped, and we did it. You didn’t believe me last year when I said I could get you into Exton shape, but I was right.”
“Hey, give me some credit. I at least had the good sense to go along with you. It’ll be fun sharing a school with you now, even if we won’t have any classes together.”
“We could. Technically.”
“I doubt we’ll land in the same electives. I’m thinking of taking some of the home ec classes—cooking, sewing, that sort of stuff. Exton’s got a shit ton of funding for those classes. Kings Row wasn’t shabby, but it wasn’t cutting edge.”
“Exton is better,” Jesse sniffed. “And don’t you even dare try to disagree with me. You can’t claim loyalty to it when you’re an Exton boy now.”
“I think I’ll like Exton better,” Eugene said carefully. “But I’m not sure about the uniforms. They’re so white.”
“You look good in whites. But you’ll have to take care not to muck about and get your uniform all dirty; it’s not forgiving of slobs.”
“Neither are you,” Eugene laughed.
“I am far more forgiving of your brutish behavior than I ought to be.”
“When’s the last time I did something boorish?”
Jesse had to think about it.
“You tried to wipe your greasy hands on my sweater last week. You’re lucky it wasn’t cashmere.”
“And you’re lucky I never actually meant to touch your sweater. Your reactions are just too fun.”
“Oh, you’re the worst.”
“Then why are you so excited I’m invading your last brute-free refuge?”
“Please, Exton’s been yours too for months. You’ve fenced with the team and stayed over more times than you’re technically allowed to.”
“Crazy,” Eugene said with a shake of his head and a lingering smile. “Hey, when are tryouts for hockey and baseball?”
“Eugene, why on earth would I know that?”
Eugene laughed. “You wouldn’t, would you? I’m just excited.”
“Me too,” Jesse agreed, settling back in his seat contentedly.
The drive was longer and shorter than it had ever been, the anticipation stretching it long and the excitement making it pass by in a happy blur.
Campus was crowded with students moving in, cars parked in completely illegal spots and parents, siblings, and students carrying in towering boxes and over-stuffed bags. Eugene and Jesse joined them, grabbing only backpacks before heading to the checkin line for room assignments, keys, and tentative schedules.
“Single again this year?” Eugene asked as they left the front table. Jesse startled a little, taken aback until he realized what Eugene meant.
“Of course. I did the whole roommate thing freshman year—part of freshman year—and never again.” Jesse shuddered. “I suppose you’ll get along fine with one, though.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You get along with everyone.”
“So do you. More or less.”
“Yes, but you actually enjoy everyone’s company.”
“I hope my roommate’s someone chill. Maybe I’ll meet him today. I’m thinking I drop my stuff in my room first, then we can move you back into your penthouse.”
With Eugene to help, the process wasn’t a long or painful one, and within ninety minutes, Jesse was collapsing back onto his freshly made bed with a sigh.
“Nap time?” Eugene asked. Jesse kicked out a leg in the vague direction of the voice on the off chance it would land.
“It’s hard work moving in. Packing is exhausting. And then there’s unpacking and getting set up…”
“That can all wait. We should go say hi to the rest of the team—the twins,” Eugene corrected with a frown. Because the twins were the rest of the team.
“It’s weird without Marcel,” Jesse said, sitting up. “I’m glad you got to fence with him before he ran off to France.”
“Your friends have a habit of doing that,” Eugene laughed. Which could be considered terribly inconsiderate. A year ago, it would have sent him into a spiral. Six months ago, it would have stung. Now, it made him laugh and fall immediately back onto his bed.
“God. It’s such a specific problem to have. Out of everywhere in the world to run to, they all choose France. You are absolutely forbidden from going to France.”
“What if I only go with you?”
“That’s allowed. But only if you stay in my line of sight the whole time.”
“Come on then, I’ll be out of your line of sight now if you don’t get up.”
Jesse groaned dramatically but stood to follow Eugene out of his room. But Eugene couldn’t get any farther than that; he didn’t know where the twins bunked. Jesse took over, leading them to the wide-open door his remaining teammates resided behind during the school year.
Their teammates. Not just his.
“Hello, Thomas,” Jesse called into the room, a bounce in his step as he entered, “Aster. It’s good to see you both. I trust you had a good summer.”
“We did!” Thomas volunteered, chipper and happy to share. “We visited France!”
Jesse caught Eugene trying to catch his eye and made an effort not to break into ridiculous giggles.
“Visiting Marcel?” he asked.
“Not exclusively,” Aster replied. “We had plenty to do while there, but Marcel did join for a day.”
“How was your summer?” Thomas asked. “And yours, Eugene?”
“Our summer was good too. We went on several miniature trips—all in-state, but very nice.”
“You also had that competition in June,” Eugene prompted, giving him a funny look.
“Oh, that’s right. I won, of course. Just like we’re going to win state this year.”
“Definitely,” Thomas agreed eagerly.
“No doubt,” Aster nodded.
“Let’s do it,” Eugene finished.
“Congratulations on making the team, by the way,” Thomas said. “We were hoping it’d be you.”
“Yeah, me too.” Despite Eugene’s easy smile, Jesse knew the emotion there was deeper. But now wasn’t the time to convey what that meant to him. “I won’t let you all down.”
Chapter Text
The year started with as much ease as Eugene’s years in the Kings Row system had. Making friends was second nature to Eugene, and while he felt the absence of some of his guys, he found plenty of company here. More, really, than usual.
Typically, Eugene was comfortable in the middle of a crowd and tended to find himself happily collecting and drawing people into his circle. Exton, though…
“It’s amazing that you made the fencing team on your first try!” Donnie, an enthusiastic sophomore, said at lunch. Eugene had seen him before, but a week into the year, this was his first time actually talking to the boy—usually Donnie couldn’t make it past the outskirts. “I can’t wait to see you fence!”
“Thanks,” Eugene said with a laugh as he waved it off. He’d heard the same on repeat for days. “It’s really cool to be fencing with some of the best in the nation.”
“Are you competing in Nationals this year?” Donnie asked eagerly.
“Probably not. I love fencing, but team sports are where my heart is, you know? It’s better to share a win. So competing solo has never been as important to me as it is to Jesse.”
“You should go for it,” another boy encouraged.
“What are you going for?” Jesse asked, appearing at Eugene’s shoulder, lunch in hand.
“It’s a white day, what’re you doing here?” Eugene asked with raising eyebrows as the crowd parted to make room for Jesse. He slid in next to Eugene like he didn’t even notice the way others immediately catered to him.
“I switched from honors math to AP statistics,” Jesse said. “You made it sound more interesting than what I was doing, and it’s open to juniors.”
Eugene’s eyebrows took their time lowering as he watched his friend shake up his salad, casual as could be. Not at all self-conscious for being what some would call clingy. They’d matched up their schedules as best they could to begin with, but Jesse had transferred into jewelry making from advanced drawing already. And now this. Eugene didn’t call Jesse clingy, of course, because he had better sense than to risk Jesse switching back his schedule just to prove a point. And Eugene was perfectly happy, if amused, with Jesse’s clinginess.
“Sweet. We haven’t started much, but I’ll catch you up on what we’ve done,” Eugene replied with ease. “And we were just talking about Nationals.”
“Oh, of course. That’s what you’re going for. Good.”
“I never said I was going for it. But what else would I have been talking about?”
“I don’t know,” Jesse said with a shrug. “Asking someone out? Which you’re not allowed to do before consulting me.”
“Is that a team rule? No dating if it distracts you?”
“No, I don’t dictate my team’s emotions or relationships. But you’re supposed to tell me things first—crushes are definitely on the topic list for best friends.” Jesse’s straight face made Eugene laugh. “Plus, I’d need to make sure they’re good enough.”
“That’s sweet,” Eugene said with another chuckle. “I assume I get the same privileges?”
“Of course.”
“Then you’re obviously not allowed to ask anyone out because no one could be good enough for you.”
“Indeed,” Jesse said demurely in response to Eugene’s snark.
Eugene noticed that the bubble of people around them had naturally given him and Jesse space, but they hadn’t all dispersed. He invited them back into the conversation, asking after weekend plans and favorite classes.
He’d always been surrounded by people happy to talk with him. But he wasn’t used to being the center of attention. Exton idolized the fencing team even more than Kings Row, and Eugene was feeling the effect.
“Aren’t you Mr. Popular?” Jesse asked as they left the cafeteria for statistics.
“Mostly because of you. But it’s crazy how many people care what I do here.”
“Welcome to Exton.”
Eugene feinted into a counter, running Aster into his blade with much more force than he’d intended.
“You good?” Eugene asked with a sympathetic wince as his teammate backed up to the line again.
“My own fault,” Aster said, shaking out his blade. “I’m getting exhausted. And I was sure you wouldn’t make that point.”
“Let’s take a break then,” Eugene suggested as he pulled off his mask. Aster glanced to Jesse before following suit. “I’m not scared of the captain,” he said, loudly enough to be sure Jesse heard. He looked around with narrowed eyes after securing a point.
“Right,” he said with a sigh, yellow hair fluffing out into a perfect style when his own mask came off. “Let’s take five. Get some water.”
Eugene sauntered over to him, both their water bottles in hand. He pressed Jesse’s to the back of his neck, causing a gasp and a glare before finishing his considerate act and handing the water over.
“Is the general club going to join us this afternoon?” Eugene asked.
Two Saturdays a month were reserved for full-day training with the team, and while Eugene had only been to three so far, the first two had included the club joining in for two hours in the afternoon before another hour of debrief and analysis after. It was pretty obvious why Exton was the best fencing school in the state—one of the best in the nation. They put in tens of hours a week; of course they put out champions.
“Yes. Coach Donati will have each of us working with a portion of the club, running drills and partner exercises, then directing bouts.”
Eugene nodded, not questioning the plan at all, but Jesse spun abruptly to him, as if in response to an objection.
“It really is beneficial to instruct others—analyze their mistakes and figure out how to explain and remedy it.”
“Yeah, I know,” Eugene said, baffled at Jesse’s unnecessary defense.
“You made me a better fencer, Eugene. Working with you last year. A better captain too.”
Eugene smiled then, wanting to reach out and ruin Jesse’s perfect hair.
“Highly impressive of me, honestly,” he joked instead. “I mean, it’s incredibly hard to improve perfection.”
Jesse huffed, the serious tone falling from him.
“You point out my imperfections all the time.”
“And I take back nothing. But your five minutes are just about up, so let’s get back to it.”
With a last swig of his water, Jesse relinquished it to Eugene to be stowed away again.
The rest of the day went by with the fast pace all periods of intense focus seemed to go with, and as soon as they were released for dinner and rest, the exhaustion of the day really hit. Eugene bore it gladly, stretching out his muscles after changing into the Exton tracksuit Jesse liked them all to wear to practices.
“Jesse,” Coach Donati called. “A word.”
Eugene knew the woman well enough by now not to wince at the phrasing or the tone. There was still a knee jerk reaction of wondering what the fuck Jesse had done to get in trouble but it faded quickly. That was just the way Coach Donati summoned people to speak with—it could be the most benign thing in the world and she’d say it like you were getting expelled.
But Jesse still shot a worried glance over to Eugene.
“I’ll wait for you,” Eugene assured with a hand up. And all that worry washed away as Jesse strode to their coach and followed into her office.
Chapter Text
“We’ve been invited to Halverton’s training camp,” Coach Donati said with no preamble.
“Which day will we be attending?”
“I’m contemplating attending all of them.”
“As part of the camp?” Jesse asked, astonished. Exton’s team had their own training regime and very little spare time.
“Indeed,” she said with a thoughtful nod.
“May I ask why?”
“Eugene.” It was blunt and straightforward but confusing.
“Eugene? I don’t understand.”
“Having a secret weapon did Sally well last year with that Cox kid, and we could play a similar hand with our own secret weapon, but do you really think it’s a good idea to debut our new fencer in a match against his old team?”
Jesse winced, considering the ugly, coiling emotions that always gripped him when going against that school. And he imagined the conflicts that hot-headed boy from Seiji’s team might start. Or the guilt Eugene might feel.
“It might be better to get everything out in the open and deal with all emotional fallout when nothing is at stake but strategic advantages we hardly need.”
“Precisely. Three days with Kings Row should be enough to let all conflicts and emotions run their course.”
“Or fortify against them to fence just as well.” Jesse nodded, decisive and sure. “I think we should attend as participants. Did Coach Brooks extend the invitation for full attendance?”
Donati gave a sharkish grin.
“She did indeed, though I’m sure she invited three additional schools because we never accept her accommodations. It will be quite a surprise for her when we turn up.”
Jesse considered asking if this petty annoyance would result in them being without proper accommodations, stuffed in another dorm hall as Brooks scrambled to fit them in. Then he decided he valued his head and didn’t want it bitten off.
“Yes, Coach.”
“So, what trouble did you get busted for?” Eugene asked with a grin as Jesse left Coach Donati’s office after refining details.
“You know perfectly well I wasn’t in any trouble.”
“No fun, then.”
“Actually, you might be interested in what we discussed.”
Eugene looked over as they started to walk, interest already sparking in his eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Coach Donati will announce it tomorrow, but we’ll be attending Halverton’s camp. As participants, not guests.”
Eugene’s brows rose high. “That’s a surprise. Exton is usually a special guest star at events like that.”
“Usually. But it’s the first shake-up of the team in two years. Practice will do us good.” Jesse tried not to look at Eugene as he continued. “But you should know…Kings Row will almost certainly be there as well.”
“Ah,” Eugene said with a nod. Everything had fallen into place in his mind, Jesse was sure. He understood exactly why the decision to go had been made. “I’ll be fine.”
“You don’t have to be,” Jesse told him, wanting to put a hand on his arm and drag eye contact. “I wasn’t okay. Seeing Seiji again. You don’t have to be okay the first time you have to stand on the opposite side of the strip from them.”
Eugene looked startled a moment before a grin broke on his face and he buffeted a shoulder into Jesse’s.
“You’re full of wisdom, did you know that?”
Jesse stopped dead.
“Is that why you looked so stunned? Eugene! You’ve known me almost a year and you’re surprised at my wisdom?”
“You’re brilliant, Jess. Talented, smart, a capable leader…”
Jesse narrowed his eyes. “Go on.”
“No, I think I’ll quit while I’m ahead.” With a charming smile, Eugene kept walking.
Jesse followed, but not without a huff of annoyance.
“You forgot handsome, by the way,” Jesse said as he caught up. “As long as you’re sucking up, at least do it right.”
“Oh, for sure,” Eugene agreed easily, glancing over at Jesse with that smile. “You’re the most devastatingly handsome boy I’ve ever seen.”
Jesse’s step stuttered and something in his chest fluttered in a strange way. Like nerves. He recovered quickly, tossing his hair.
“That’s more like it. You’re forgiven.”
“Thanks,” Eugene said, but his tone was no longer light and teasing. “For what you said. But I’ll be fine—I’ll get through facing Kings Row and be okay. I know it. Because I have you.”
Chapter Text
Exton loved to make an entrance. Eugene wasn’t sure if that was its captain’s or coach’s influence, but he should have expected to arrive at Halverton after every other school had already settled in. He thought it made them look a little like self-important dicks, but…
Jesse tossed his hair as a self-important smirk crept onto his face. When your best friend was Jesse Coste, some sacrifices were called for. So Eugene followed at Jesse’s shoulder through the double doors to a salle he’d only visited once. A year and a lifetime ago.
“I’m so sorry we’re late,” Coach Donati said as Brooks’s attention zeroed in on her, interrupted from an explanation of the ladder system. “I didn’t want a repeat of last year, and I assumed the timing on your invitation would lead to just that. Ah well, my mistake.”
Eugene had gotten the idea last year, but the two of them definitely delighted in pissing each other off.
“No problem at all,” Brooks beamed with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Come in, come in. We’re just finishing up with rules and then your boys can get dressed and join in the fun!”
They did as told, diligently paying attention as rules they already knew were explained again, then the coaches bled to the background. But unlike last year, the rest of them stayed still and quiet. There was a charged energy in the air, and Eugene hoped he was only being a self-important dick assuming he was the reason.
“Is that the extra reserve from Kings Row?” Scott finally asked.
He was just saying out loud what everyone was thinking. Every person in the salle looked surprised to see Eugene with Exton’s fencing pin on his lapel. Even his old team. Not that he blamed them; he never would have believed it.
“The first fencer from Exton, now,” Jesse corrected with a pleasant smile, causing even more ripples through the crowd.
“Why would you recruit him?” Scott’s question wasn’t malicious. Which made it hit a little harder. “What does he bring to your team? Not Seiji, I see.” This, with a glance at Seiji, whose socks matched Nick’s, Bobby’s, and a curly-haired boy Eugene recognized as Zayn from previous tryouts at Kings Row.
“Seiji actually had nothing to do with my decision.”
“He should have. You can’t fill your team with hopes and dreams and expect to win championships. Just look at Kings Row.”
“That’s the difference between us, Scott. You poach the best fencers you can find. I invest. And I haven’t been wrong yet.”
“You know what I woke up this morning thinking?” Eugene asked into the crackling tension. “Damn, I hope I get objectified today. I was kind of imagining the cause being my killer guns, but I guess this works too.”
Scott was watching him carefully now, frowning. Eugene knew he was being analyzed. Scott wasn’t stupid, and he knew Jesse wasn’t either. So he was searching for the angle Jesse was playing.
“Never mind that,” Kyle spoke up from Lowther’s ranks, looking disgruntled as he regarded Eugene. “We’re here to fence, aren’t we? Let’s not stand around all gaping until we’ve seen what he can do on the piste.”
“Then you can all stand around in shock,” Eugene supplied with a grin. Then, to his team, “Come on, let’s go gear up.”
Exton’s fencing team picked up their bags and filed into the locker rooms together.
“Did you not tell your old team you were coming to us?” Thomas asked.
“Why would he?” Aster shot back. “They’re not his friends.”
Eugene winced, but it wasn’t strictly untrue. They were his friends in the way everyone was—he liked people. He was nice to them. They got along. But while he’d always cared about that team, he wasn’t sure any of them cared about him.
“None of them asked,” Eugene shrugged. “After I got cut from the team, nobody asked how I was or wanted to know what I was up to. I told Nick anyway. I’m surprised he didn’t tell everyone.”
“He probably didn’t believe you,” Jesse said with a scowl.
“Could be.”
“I want you to show them all, Eugene. Don’t hold back. We’re not here to play coy or participate in mind game strategies. Make them see you. And fence me at the top of the ladder.”
“You got it, Captain.”
Eugene would be lying if he claimed to be unaffected by the lingering stares and discussion about him that wasn’t even all that quiet. From three of the teams here, it hardly mattered. But he was hyper-aware of all the attention from his old sort-of team.
“Hey, man,” a boy called with a wide grin. Terrell from MacRob. “Good to see you.”
“Hey bud, good to see you too! Nothing like the bond forged between victims of the dipshit learning how to flick, eh?”
“You said it! Man, I’ll miss swapping out with you at the bottom of the ladder. I liked the breaks.”
“Even numbers, but four extra players instead of one,” Eugene pointed out.
“Don’t you figure we’ll just add another strip or two?”
Eugene looked at the salle with a frown.
“I don’t know that there’s enough room to accommodate that. Brooks invites a limited number of teams for a reason.”
“I can squeeze an extra one in,” a cheery voice called from behind, making them both jump. “But, yes, two boys will be out at all times. Huh, I should have gone over that with the rules. Ah well, you’ll all figure it out.”
Coach Brooks beamed at them with her usual seemingly flippant manner.
“Eugene, I look forward to seeing you fence this year.”
“Thanks,” Eugene said, a little surprised to be garnering her attention. But he shouldn’t have been. “Hey, for old time’s sake, Terrell and I can start as the odd men out. Prove ourselves getting onto that ladder, right?”
“You bet! I worked hard on my fencing over the summer—no more piste one for me.”
“Very good,” Brooks said, then pitched her voice for a booming announcement. “Alright, boys, to your positions! Grab a partner and a piste—I don’t care where you start!”
And so it began. Brooks let them ease into things this year, starting the ladder without any special rules about point allocation. Eugene watched the matches unfold, paying close attention to the new members of each team, those filling in holes left by seniors or taking the place of a less skilled fencer.
He was proud to see the improvement both Nick and Bobby had made, watching them fence each other in the middle of the pack.
“They’re good, aren’t they?” a dreadfully familiar voice asked.
“You’ve done good work with them,” Eugene agreed, glancing over to Coach Williams standing beside him, stance wide and hands on hips as she surveyed the fencers.
“Only as good as their effort allowed. Which, in their case, is pretty damn good.” The words hung for a moment. Then came the sigh Eugene had been waiting for. “I’m disappointed to lose you, Eugene,” Coach Williams said, and her disapproval weighed heavy on him. He’d known it would. “I understand you felt unappreciated last year, but we can’t always shine ourselves when we’re part of a team. If you’d waited, your time would have come.”
“You can’t always wait for the opposition to make a move before you do. And I waited ten years. I needed to improve if I wanted to make it on a fencing team before I graduated and, with all due respect, Coach Williams, that wasn’t happening at Kings Row. I’m sorry I had to leave, but I know your team’ll do great without me anyway.”
Coach Williams sighed again.
“You could have come to me,” she said. But the words were hollow, and they both knew it.
“Thank you for all you did for me,” Eugene said, already gathering momentum to leave. “I hope you’ll be proud of how far I was able to get with it and the help of some others.”
Chapter 39
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Jesse shouldn’t have been surprised Eugene volunteered to be one of the odd men out first. It was just like him. And not as a way to make a statement, simply as one of the many ways Eugene found to be kind. Always letting others go ahead of him, helping them out and giving all his support. Still, intentional or not, Eugene’s decision made a statement. Climbing to the top of the ladder he’d spent last year banished from… Jesse couldn’t hide a sharp smile at the message that would send.
“Focus, Jesse,” Kyle said, surprising Jesse more than Seiji transferring to Exton could have.
Kyle never told Jesse what to do in a salle. He was usually so excited to be fencing, any leftover bickering from boyhood was forgotten. Boyhood bickering which Eugene had encouraged. And, admittedly, made more appealing than bland, one-sided excitement.
“I’m focused,” Jesse gave in riposte. It was a terrible riposte.
“Then why isn’t your mask on? Wait, I know—it’s hard to see all the way to the bottom of the ladder through the mesh.”
Jesse pulled his mask on.
“When you’re down there, you’ll have to tell me if you can see me through the mesh or not.”
But Kyle was right; Jesse needed to focus on his own matches, not Eugene’s. So he gave this one his full attention, sending Kyle down a level to no great surprise. Kyle wasn’t a bad fencer, Jesse was just… Jesse. People were never able to match him. It was no surprise when he found himself sorted to the top of the ladder, content to bounce between the first and second pistes. He’d told Eugene not to hold back; Jesse himself wasn’t competing today. He was only fencing.
As the exercise went on, Brooks started calling out for themed bouts, which Jesse always enjoyed. It was fun to add extra challenges, to force you out of your usual strategies. Jesse heard Eugene’s laughter from pistes away, making him smile. Some of the rules Brooks implemented were a little silly. This bout promised to be tame enough with only direct hits counting for points.
“Seiji,” Jesse said with a nod to his new opponent—one which he’d already fenced three times today.
“Stop playing around, Jesse,” Seiji demanded, shaking out his blade with a downright dangerous glower. “Give me your all.”
Jesse tilted his head, considering it. Seiji, more than anyone, had always gotten Jesse’s best. Had always made Jesse want to be his best. Had always pushed him to improve and expand and outdo his best. A year ago, he’d have fought with everything in him to stay at the top of this little pyramid. He would never have tolerated giving Seiji less than everything he had.
“No,” he said slowly, a decision or a realization coming with the word. “I’m waiting for someone. And isn’t it fun to just fence sometimes?”
“How can you call it fencing if you’re holding back?” Seiji spat.
“I’m not holding back.”
“You’re treating this like a warm-up.”
“Isn’t that what it is? This whole camp is about warming up and building relationships to my understanding.”
“You’re not the fencer I remember if that’s what you think.”
Eugene laughed, just two pistes down. Jesse let himself look to catch the corner of his smile and imagine what had made him laugh. Then he turned back to Seiji.
“No,” he agreed. “I don’t think I am. But let’s get this squared away quickly. There’s a match I’d like to catch.”
Seiji flew from the line like his life depended on it. Direct hits served him well. Seiji was nothing if not direct. But his perfect flèche was as familiar as a lifelong friend. He’d tightened up this year, closing up more of those tiny cracks in his guard, but Jesse could still see them. And he still had the skill, speed, and accuracy to take full advantage.
When their bout concluded, Jesse’s spot was once again at the top. But Sungchul and Scott were still occupying it, so Jesse was free to catch the tail end of Eugene’s match. From the little snatches of them he’d caught, Jesse was proud of his new teammate’s performance.
To Jesse’s surprise, Kyle was Eugene’s opponent. Kyle didn’t generally evoke a desire to banter in people. Usually, he didn’t seem to notice if they were trying to talk at all because he didn’t plan on stopping. Jesse had fallen victim to that more than once. But the two of them continued to get along in a way. Well enough, apparently, to have Eugene laughing. And Eugene didn’t generally laugh at people unless they were in on it too.
Watching them fence was strangely conflicting, each point from either épée making him wince as it made contact. He knew who would win. But he knew this mattered to Kyle as much as anyone.
Kyle was all aggression, charging in sharp and fast with good technique. But he could overextend and leave himself open. And the gaps in his technique—those moments of inaccuracy—were a death sentence against someone who knew how to take advantage.
Eugene did.
“Hey, thanks for the match,” Eugene said when it was won, tapping his blade against Kyle’s. “That was fun.”
“If Jesse hadn’t trained you up, you’d still be at the bottom,” Kyle sniffed, tossing his head. “My cousin’s just that good.”
“You won’t hear me disagreeing,” Eugene laughed. “Maybe you should get some pointers from Jesse too. Might up your game.”
“A surprisingly good idea, Eugene,” Jesse said, drawing both their attention and a snort from his friend.
“Damn, did you have to throw in the surprisingly?”
“Obviously,” Kyle said with a sneer before looking back to Jesse with a small shrug. “So?”
“You’re too predictable,” Jesse said. “Your opponent will identify the pattern and dismantle your attacks. Remember, it’s good to go in with a plan, but if it’s not working, try something else. We should work on that during break.”
“No, breaks are important,” Eugene cut in. “We’ll do that during open fencing.”
“Fine, have it your way, you layabout.”
“Alright!” Coach Brooks boomed over the din. “Next match up! Find your piste, then stay put for further directions!”
“That sounds promising,” Jesse said, already expecting something ridiculous.
“Should be fun,” Eugene said, clearly expecting the same.
“I’ll dispatch Sungchul quickly to come watch your match.”
“What’s with that look?”
“What look?”
“The one you’re wearing right now. Your lips are all pinched.”
Jesse glanced to the piste Eugene was meant to take, and the grunt of understanding from Eugene signaled that he’d finally bothered to wonder who he was fencing against next.
“Should be fun,” he repeated.
“Seiji won’t think so,” Jesse said. “Take it seriously. He will.”
“Seiji takes everything seriously. I’ll be fine. And it will be fun.”
Jesse nodded. “Right. Then don’t have too much fun before I’m here to watch.”
“I make no promises.”
Notes:
I think tapping blades is at the end of a match rather than shaking hands is something that developed during covid, but I love it so it exists here too. Also, sometimes I say things and I have no idea if that's just what my fencing instructor calls things or if it's a real thing lmao 'themed bouts' being an example of that--they're exactly what they sound like: a bout with a theme, often including or being a reallocation of points per move/target like we see at the Halverton camp in the comics!
Chapter Text
Seiji was unreadable. Most people would be tempted to read him as pissed or deeply displeased or maybe even disgusted. But that was just Seiji’s standard expression. Dude had resting bitch face like no one else Eugene had ever seen. Granted, some level of disdain or disinterest usually was present, but there was no real telling.
At least, not until the fencing began. So Eugene faced Seiji with trepidation. He’d fenced Zayn, but other than that, he’d gone untested against Kings Row. And now he’d see what Seiji thought of him. Of his choice to leave. From the look of it, pissed. But he’d also come from fencing Jesse, which could explain the aggression in his shaken-out blade and the extra sharpness in his scowl.
“Attention please!” Coach Brooks called, getting it immediately. She stood at the front of the salle, looking up the center of the ladder. “Everyone on this side of the strip,” she said, raising her left hand, “will be confined to the warning zone of the strip for this bout. No other modifications apply. Questions?”
“That’s not fair!” someone—Eugene didn’t catch who—blurted.
“You’d be surprised the circumstances different people can thrive under. Don’t be so sure of the outcome before the final score locks it in.”
“Where should we start?” Scott asked up the ladder from Eugene. It was a good question. Free of the box, Eugene also wasn’t sure if he was meant to start on his line or closer to Seiji.
“In advance lunge distance. Those of you with free movement are welcome to be anywhere on the piste. Those of you with restrictions may not step out of your zone without penalty of a point. Your blade and arm may reach outside to score a point, but if you lunge, make sure your front foot is landing on your side of the line, yes?”
“Yes, Coach!” came the booming reply from the packed salle.
“Then find your positions!”
They scrambled to comply, Seiji looking deadly displeased to be cornered against the end of the strip. This wasn’t a bout with any weight, in the end. It didn’t matter if Eugene won it. And it didn’t prove much, either, considering the circumstances of it. But Eugene could hear Aiden’s voice in his ear. His distress is your advantage.
“Ready? Fence!”
Seiji jolted, body betraying years of muscle memory trained into him. In that small moment of disharmony between body, emotions, and strategy, Eugene slipped right by Seiji’s blade and collected the first point of the match. Seiji hissed with displeasure but reset in the middle of his cage silently.
Eugene was careful, knowing full well that caged tigers were dangerous. Seiji’s timing and accuracy were terrifying and his speed, while not on Jesse’s level, was formidable. He could dispel Eugene’s attacks or strike out to hit before Eugene even realized he was in range. So he was careful, feeling out Seiji’s position and recognizing it wasn’t in top form. It made sense; reallocating the weight of points was easy enough for a fencer of Seiji’s level. But Seiji as a person wasn’t adaptable. No matter how skilled he was, the drastic change and confines had thrown him off. Eugene somewhat regretted facing Seiji when he was so off balance.
Breaking the slow rhythm they’d built, Eugene darted in, but Seiji recognized his feint and caught it, bringing them to blows in a screech of metal as they threw their weight against blades. Eugene managed to get out without giving Seiji a point, but he left without one either.
The next time Eugene went in, he shoved Seiji’s blade out of the way, taking advantage of Seiji’s perilous proximity to the rear warning line to force him to give. He got the point, but the next one was Seiji’s. Coming in with a beat attack, Eugene got caught in Seiji’s parry, only barely managing to shove the tip of his épée off its course, strong-arming Seiji into relative harmlessness. He almost scored when Eugene retreated, but with a tiny flick of the wrist upward as he went, Eugene landed a point on Seiji’s gauntlet.
They went on in a clash of blades loud enough to rival any novice fencing tournament. Seiji was backed against a wall and Eugene’s presence here was a surprise—his frustration was making for an interesting match. An intense one. The sort of match that he could never have dreamed of winning last year, but keeping up with Seiji wasn’t impossible. It was fun. And he was doing it. He was winning it.
Eugene knew exactly what he was doing with every step, constructing his strategy and cornering Seiji with it while Seiji kept fencing a ghost. Eugene didn’t attack with a bent arm anymore. He wasn’t the fencer Seiji had known last year. And he didn’t believe it until Eugene took the final point for himself.
Seiji pulled off his mask in disbelief, staring at Eugene with anger and, unless Eugene was mistaken, betrayal.
“That was a fun match,” Eugene said, knowing to hold out his hand to Seiji; the guy was a traditionalist and preferred handshakes to blade bumps. “Thanks for it.”
“If not for the handicap, I would have won. You’ve improved, but in a real match, I still would have won. That was a cheap trick and worthless exercise. I don’t know what Coach Brooks was thinking with it. You’re not nearly on Jesse’s level. You shouldn’t have won.”
Eugene dropped his hand. Seiji didn’t handle losing well. Particularly when he lost to fencers he didn’t already know of and respect.
“I’m sure we’ll get to fence again under new and exciting conditions,” Eugene offered with a smile, not letting Seiji’s attitude get to him. He was notorious for having a bad one on the piste. But Eugene still craned his neck, grounding his emotions with blond hair and blue eyes and a scrunch between light eyebrows.
“You did it!” Jesse said as Eugene found him, apparently taking that as permission to breach the strip. “I told you, didn’t I? I said you could.”
“It was a close thing,” Seiji said, undoing his body cord with jerky motions and clenched knuckles.
“He could have driven you off the strip and won five to zero,” Jesse said impatiently.
“Jesse,” Eugene warned. “Chill.”
“He’s right,” Scott said. Eugene stared at him. He wasn’t exactly a likely candidate for a rescue. “You could have used brute force to push Seiji off strip and secured your win far earlier.”
Eugene glanced at Seiji, who was red-faced and snarling. He was somehow sure he was about to piss Seiji off even worse, but he shrugged.
“It just didn’t seem very sporting. Or fun.”
“You should have taken advantage of your strength,” Seiji lashed. Yeah, he wasn’t impressed with Eugene’s rationale. “You should fence to win.”
“This was a themed bout for practice. If we’d been at state, I’d have shoved you off the strip, but here? I’d honestly rather fence you and get the most out of going against you.”
“Our next bout will be more decisive. I don’t hesitate.”
“I know.”
With a flex of his jaw, Seiji tore his eyes away from Eugene, snapping out of the reel and sweeping away, down one step on the ladder.
“You’ll beat him next time too,” Jesse said hotly, his jaw flexing too as he grabbed Eugene and yanked him up to his new piste. “You won that bout fair and square. And brilliantly.”
“He was thrown off,” Eugene said. “It didn’t feel too fair.”
“Almost every boy in this entire gym would have lost to Seiji there, Eugene. Even at a disadvantage, Seiji’s incredible. And you beat him. Don’t downplay that.”
“I’m not. I’m just saying…he might be right, you know? Next time, I might not have an edge.”
“You don’t need one. And you’d better beat Sungchul.”
Eugene almost asked why, looking from his opponent to Jesse. And then he realized that Sungchul was the only person standing between him and Jesse. Between him and piste one.
“You promised you’d fence me at the top.”
“Did I? Seems to me that you told me to fence you at the top.”
“Which is the same thing.”
“I guess that’s true.”
“So don’t disappoint me.”
Eugene decided that moment to beat Sungchul no matter what. He gave Jesse a nod, letting him go to his own match. Right on time, too, because Coach Brooks’s voice rang out.
“And it wouldn’t be any fun at all if only half of you got to fence on the edge. Please, stay on the side of the strip you were on for your last bout. If you can’t because the strip you moved to was already occupied by someone in your position, remain on your new side.” She gave a moment for everyone to comply. Eugene and Sungchul were both able to retain their previous sides, giving eachother a nod before returning attention to Coach Brooks. “Very good! Now, this side,” a raise of her right arm, “are the ones in the warning zone.” No surprise. Eugene moved into the box with a grin, pulling on his mask. This would be fun. “Ready? Fence!”
Sungchul knew how to push—he was aggressive and adaptive. They’d all seen him analyze Seiji last year, taking mere days to master his style and strategize to beat him. The dude was scary good. But this match? Eugene knew he’d win it within the first twenty seconds.
Sungchul had never fenced him before, and because he’d been busy winning his own matches today, there’d been no time for him to catch any of Eugene’s. So he was stepping into the match at a disadvantage, even though Eugene was the one in the cage. In fact, the disruption seemed to work in Eugene’s favor even though he was confined.
Really, Eugene found the confines easy to navigate. It narrowed Sungchul’s options just as much as it narrowed his. In the end, there was only one place Sungchul could go: forward.
A fencer like Kyle, who liked to charge and hated to retreat, might have done better, but Sungchul was clearly used to a rhythm. He wanted to manipulate distance, to draw and coax his opponent into the path of his blade before exploding and running them through. That wasn’t an option here. Eugene was in a stronger position to set the pace and he didn’t have to worry so much about strategy. Sungchul would either attack or come into Eugene’s range. And then it was easy.
Eugene struck.
And struck.
And struck.
“Five to zero?” a stunned voice floated from a gathered crowd Eugene hadn’t noticed until he pulled his mask off to thank Sungchul for the match.
“I’ll beat you by the end of this camp,” Sungchul said. Not maliciously. Just a challenge issued to a rival fencer.
“Sounds fun,” Eugene said, taking Sungchul’s offered hand with a firm shake and grinning at the tiny smile quirked in the corner of his mouth.
Chapter Text
“I missed your match,” Jesse said, almost breathless as he caught Eugene’s arm, his own mask still held carelessly in the hand he’d yanked it off with. “I only caught the final point, but everyone’s reactions alone tell me you were incredible. I can’t believe I missed it! Five to zero with a disadvantage! Against the third ranked fencer in the nation!”
“Jesse, calm down,” Eugene said, both his hands coming to land on Jesse’s arms, squeezing a moment as if in a hug. “I won, but it wasn’t as impressive as all that. You know how to take advantage of my position in that match, so you know it’s not any more a handicap than Sungchul was at. And I’d seen him fence a ton. It wasn’t an epic fight.”
“I already told you to stop downplaying your success.”
“And I’m just saying it wasn’t all that insane like everyone’s acting. Anyway, the next one will be more impressive.”
“Why’s that?” Jesse asked, thinking of the grin and challenge he’d just interrupted.
“Because it’s with you, dumbass,” Eugene answered, honestly looking at Jesse like he was an idiot.
“Oh, you meant—yes, obviously our bout will be the most exciting one of the day.”
“I hope Brooks pulls out something crazy.”
“Of course you do.”
“Come on, that was fun, wasn’t it?”
“It would have been more fun against you.”
Eugene beamed.
“We’ll steal that exercise for the club, then. The kids would have a blast with it too, don’t you think?”
“They would,” Jesse agreed. “And we’ve been neglecting the club since school started, haven’t we?”
“Yup. Guess that’s the hidden downside of basically living together. You don’t have to go out places to hang.”
“Which is no excuse to stop putting in the effort.”
“Then we should go out after camp ends. There’s a beach near here.”
“I could be convinced to visit the beach,” Jesse hummed. He hadn’t brought a swimsuit, but he supposed swimming wasn’t the only activity to do at a beach. And it would be evening by the time they were released in any case. Jesse trusted lakes better than oceans, especially at night.
“Loser has to skinny dip,” Eugene declared with the slightly crooked grin and mischievous glint in his eyes that meant he was joking.
“Only if you feel like running around naked,” Jesse told him. “I’m not going easy on you.”
“I wouldn’t want you to hold back on me.”
As they got hooked up to their reels, Brooks announced a classic weighting to the points. One point for the body, three points for the arms or legs, and five points for the hand or foot. Meaning any bout could be over in a single move.
Eugene was properly wary of that fact, drawing Jesse and going on the defensive. Jesse fully intended to get those five points in one devastating hit. It proved difficult. Wonderfully so. Jesse laughed as he and Eugene engaged in an endless dance, both of them ignoring all other targets and focusing on undoing and outsmarting every move made against them.
“I don’t think I’ve ever parried so many times in a row outside of drills,” Eugene said, laughing as he and Jesse circled each other’s blades in a flurry.
“We could cause a wind tunnel,” Jesse agreed, breaking it with a jab to Eugene’s foot that was perfectly aimed. Eugene jumped an impressive height and distance backward, very nearly startling Jesse. He’d have to make sure Eugene practiced that more to take full advantage.
As they fenced, zero to zero, they accumulated a crowd big enough to overshadow all of the attention the scruffy reserve had garnered last year and rival the attention Seiji’s matches had drawn. Jesse didn’t hold back. He wanted everyone to see Eugene’s best, so he was determined to push him hard to show it.
Eventually, Eugene got Jesse on the thigh, apparently giving up on the ultimate jackpot. He grinned at Jesse’s indignation. It was a good tactic, of course, lulling your opponent into a pattern before breaking it. And it was just as important to remember smaller points added up as surely as flashy moves and impressive hits.
Jesse had really wanted to end the match in a single hit, but he appreciated the approving murmurs from the crowd anyway. He redoubled his own efforts, but the mood of the match made him giddy. Perhaps a little reckless. He threw himself into a low lunge that skidded against the polished wood, but instead of going for the foot and letting Eugene score a point on his exposed back, he aimed upward to hit Eugene’s hand right as he was coming in with his own strike.
“Damn, you really wanted to get me naked,” Eugene said, a cackle in his voice.
“You’ve been waiting to say that this whole match, haven’t you?” Jesse asked, panting as he regained himself from the lunge.
“I knew there was no way you were gonna let me win when there was a trick shot to show off with. So I had to come up with ways to comfort myself.”
“Like playing dirty and making bad jokes?”
“Exactly!”
Jesse pulled a face, trying to convince Eugene he wasn’t amused. In their lull of quiet, he heard boys analyzing and commenting on their performance. Even better, he heard coaches chiming in.
“They all know they’re in trouble,” Jesse said with satisfaction. “There’s no question about what school you belong with now.”
The smile Jesse got for that comment was an ache in his heart.
To Jesse’s delight, Eugene never dropped lower than the sixth piste. He never got past Jesse, no matter which piste they found each other on. When the mock tournament finished, Jesse meant to go find Eugene immediately, but his path was blocked by a familiar seething face.
The seething was less familiar than the face. That face used to always be softest for Jesse. It hurt a little to realize it wasn’t for him anymore. More than a little.
“Seiji,” Jesse said with a pleasant smile. “Did you want to fence?”
“I won’t fence you at anything but your best,” Seiji spat. “And you’re not showing it. Why are you only trying against Eugene?”
“You noticed that, did you?”
“Everyone noticed it. You’re slacking in every other match. The only person you should have lost to today was me.”
“I told you. I’m here for fun and practice. And to give my new teammate ample opportunity to improve, which means I’d do him a disservice by giving anything but my best. And, speaking of, I need to go find him to give notes.” Jesse thought a moment. “And Kyle too.”
“Have you lost your drive so early in your career? You’ll never make it with this lax attitude.”
“No, he’ll never make it if he burns out this early.”
Jesse looked to his side, relieved to see Eugene.
“You’ve changed,” Seiji told Jesse. “You used to be the only one who understood, but you’ve forgotten.”
“I think we never understood each other fully. And I like fencing for the sake of fencing. I like who I am when I have room for other things too.” Jesse thought of Kyle and of fishing trips, of farmer’s markets and swimming pools, of laughing with his teammates outside of the salle. “I think I forgot about other people when I was consumed by fencing and winning every second of my life. I think I forgot about you too.” A warm hand enveloped Jesse’s and gave it a tight squeeze. “I’m sorry for that.”
Seiji stared, wide-eyed. Then he turned and left with nothing but a scowl.
“I think you both needed that. I’m impressed that you said it.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Jesse sighed. “It’s just the first time in years Seiji has willingly talked to me and everything sort of…spilled out.”
“How does it feel to get it out?”
“Bittersweet.”
Eugene gave Jesse’s hand another squeeze before letting go.
“Come on, let’s go find Kyle and the twins.”
Jesse nodded, finding himself really believing he was happier outside of his all-consuming obsession when they collected their friends and shared notes and advice and fenced for improvement and for fun.
By the time dinner began, he was thoroughly exhausted and equally content, looking forward to tomorrow.
They started with random positions again, this time with the condition they fence someone they hadn’t yesterday for the first exercise. It was another standard one, one fencer drawing and the other attacking.
Jesse found Terrell from MacRob. The piste above him, Kyle stood against Scott, and below him, Eugene was fencing Emmett. The twins were both too far away to see, but Jesse was sure he’d run into them. They weren’t taking this camp any easier than Eugene.
Within five matches, Jesse was at the top of the ladder again. Within another two, Eugene was with him, grinning and full of friendly competition. Friendly didn’t mean gentle. Jesse had to fend him off with serious effort. After all, he wasn’t infallible, even fencing his best. He fenced so often it was a statistical improbability to win every match. He simply won every match that mattered. And the way to do that was to assume people on the edge of greatness would be a real threat if not taken seriously now. And Eugene would be beating him genuinely soon. By the end of the year, maybe even as regularly as Seiji had when they’d fenced practically every day.
Sungchul was another contender for the crown, fencing Jesse as frequently as Eugene. And, of course, the two of them faced each other a handful of times too. Jesse remembered Sungchul’s promise to beat Eugene by the end of the camp. More than that, he remembered the smirk, barely visible on his usually passionless face.
“That’s five-four in my favor,” Eugene declared as his latest match-up against Sungchul came to its natural conclusion: with Eugene as winner. Jesse frowned, having joined the audience around them for only the last five minutes, but Eugene had won by three points, not one.
“Tell me your win ratio against me at the end of the day,” Sungchul said blandly. “You won’t be smiling then.”
And there it was. That hint of a sparking challenge on his lips. Eugene only smiled broader, thriving on the banter. Fencing wasn’t usually the appropriate place for smack talk, but Eugene engaged in it in other sports.
“I always smile,” Eugene said simply, and Jesse swore he actually winked.
“Eugene, stop wasting time,” Jesse called. “I’ve already been waiting ages for you to finish so we can fence.”
“My bad,” he replied, efficiently disconnecting his body cord from the reel and coming to Jesse in moments. It wasn’t until they were getting set up on their new piste that Eugene protested. “Hey, wait a second. We don’t even know the rules of this match. You weren’t being slowed by me at all.”
“So sorry to pull you away from such a fascinating conversationalist,” Jesse said irritably. “I like to be prepared.”
Eugene shook his head at Jesse but made no further comment.
Chapter Text
“Let’s skip dinner tonight and go to the beach. I bet Coach Donati will let us,” Eugene suggested after only half an hour of open fencing. Kyle had gone off to fence Aster, leaving just the two of them.
“I thought we were going to go once camp ended. It’s only our second night here.”
“We could wait,” Eugene shrugged. “Doesn’t matter when we go, really.”
“I’ll ask Coach Donati about tonight,” Jesse said after a pause. “I’m sure she’ll agree, even if only to irritate Coach Brooks if it’s against her usual rules.”
“Great! Let’s wash up and meet back in our room in twenty.”
Eugene expected Jesse to put up a fight about ditching fencing, but he agreed easily, going to find their coach without any complaint. Clearly, they really hadn’t hung out enough outside of school since the year started.
“Do you know any restaurants around here?” Jesse asked as they left Halverton. “I assume since we’re skipping dinner, you intend to feed me.”
“Of course. I went to a good burger joint with Nick last year—”
“No burgers. I want something more refined.”
“Right. Refined. I’m sure there’s an Olive Garden somewhere around here.”
“You’re not serious.”
Eugene started laughing.
“No, I’m not. You’re too high-class for fakey Italian restaurants. And burgers, apparently. What about sandwiches and a blanket for a picnic at the beach?”
“That’s more of a lunch than a dinner, but I’ll make an exception.”
“Follow me.”
Jesse did, the two of them walking side by side, quiet but comfortable. Eugene knew better than to lead Jesse to a Subway, taking him instead to a place that used fresh loaves of sourdough and French bread with fancy cuts of meats, offering a wide selection of cheeses and vegetables. He’d picked well; Jesse ordered without so much as a scoff or wrinkled nose. Eugene was just glad the place wasn’t too in love with itself to snub simple pleasures like chips and sodas to bulk up their metaphorical picnic basket.
“This is at least three steps outside of the optimized diet plan,” Jesse said as they left the little shop.
“Uh-huh. I can tell you’re really concerned about it by the way you mentioned that before letting us order. Damn, I really wish I had my car,” Eugene lamented. “I’ve got the perfect picnic blanket in there for just this type of emergency.”
“How many boys do you take on spur-of-the-moment picnics on the beach?” Jesse asked, almost sounding accusatory.
“Blankets come in handy,” Eugene shrugged.
“Oh? For what other activities are car blankets convenient, Eugene?”
“Car sex, obviously,” Eugene had to answer, just because that was obviously where Jesse’s mind had gone and it was too funny to pass up. He laughed as Jesse sputtered and turned bright red.
“Then I’m certainly glad your car and sex rag aren’t here!”
Eugene was laughing too hard to reply, doubled over and hugging his suddenly aching ribs.
“Alright, let’s go get a fresh, never-used blanket reserved just for use with you,” Eugene said once he’d recovered. They wandered into the first promising store they came across, Jesse insisting on a strawberry-patterned quilt that was about a hundred dollars over any reasonable budget for a blanket that would live in a car, coming out for beach trips and concerts and little else.
When Eugene pointed that out, he got a sniff.
“I only believe in having the best. But obviously I’ll contribute to getting it since it’s not to be touched by anyone else you’re with for any reason.”
“If that’s how you want to spend your hard-earned money, sure.”
“Eugene, I don’t mean to shatter any idolized notion of me being a hard-working, self-made man you might have, but I have a loose allowance and a card connected to my dad’s bank account as well as one of my own.”
“Jesus, I forget how much your dad spoils you. But at least you know it.”
Eugene folded the quilt over his arm, the paper bag full of their food in hand.
“I hope the beach isn’t too long a walk,” Jesse said as they finally began their journey to it.
“You’re not carrying anything, so I don’t want any complaints out of you.”
“Did you come here with your old teammate? Nicholas?”
“Yeah, we’d wander around town a lot. We kept saying we’d do a beach day, but we never actually ended up following through.”
“You’ll have more fun with me anyway.”
Eugene didn’t argue the point, but he missed Nick. He’d been a different type of fun than Jesse, someone who was more like him in a lot of ways. He was much closer with Jesse than he’d ever been with Nick, but there was a hanging what if there. There probably always would be.
“Wait a sec,” Jesse said as they arrived at the beach. “I need to take off my shoes.”
“That’s why I wore sandals,” Eugene said, kicking them off and stooping to scoop them up easily.
“Why would I bring sandals?”
“Why did you bring boat shoes?”
“Because they’re a staple of a casual wardrobe. And now I get to complain about walking again since I’m carrying something.”
“Be my guest, but walking on the beach is nice, isn’t it?” Eugene asked, looking over at Jesse as a gentle wind played in his hair. “It’s atmospheric.”
“I suppose. But I’m hungry. Can we eat before doing more walking?”
They found a quiet place to settle their blanket by the water, spreading their spoils out for the taking. As they ate, Eugene enjoyed the sound of crashing waves and the colors of a setting sun expanding over sky and sea. He looked over to Jesse and saw him watching the sunset too, the colors lighting his face just as brightly as the water.
“I think you’re right,” he said, finishing his sandwich. “You’re definitely the person I want to be here with right now.”
Jesse turned to him, smiling.
“Told you.”
The night slipped by as Eugene and Jesse walked along the shore, leaving footprints in the sand, speaking about things that didn’t matter for any reason beyond how they were the ones speaking about them.
Theirs weren’t the only footprints in the sand, and Eugene saw other silhouettes of two figures walking closely together in the distance ahead of them. Maybe someone else from camp had the same idea as they had. Maybe they were just a random couple out for a stroll. He never found out because they never caught up.
“If we don’t get back soon, we’ll be in trouble,” he sighed. “We should turn around.”
“Are you sure we can’t stay out a bit longer? The water’s so pretty under the stars. I’m sure Coach Donati would understand.”
“Are you?”
“Ugh, fine. Let’s head back to camp then. But we should put that blanket to good use. I spent my hard-earned money on it, you know.”
Eugene shoved his shoulder into Jesse with a snort.
“We’ll find a beach, maybe catch a couple of concerts, go to the drive-in theatre. I’d hate to waste your dad’s money.”
“And remember, don’t you dare let anyone else on it.”
“Cross my heart.”
Chapter Text
Jesse’s muscles ached pleasantly as he made it to the mess hall for dinner after another long day at camp. Three full days of fencing the best of the best was a challenge, even for him. It was good to push himself sometimes, but he was still happy for the shower and the food and the bed waiting for him.
Despite spending a month sharing a table with Eugene at lunch, Jesse had assumed camp would be different. Exton was polite but they didn’t mingle with other schools. The same was true of most the schools here, even if there was some crossover. He really ought to have expected Eugene to be expanding his social circle anyway.
“Hey, Eugene,” Gian called, beckoning them over. “You have got to fence me tomorrow! It’s a matter of honor.”
“What did you do to Gian?” Terrell asked curiously, leaning around Isaac.
“Gian has not landed a single flick on Eugene all camp,” Van supplied.
“I need at least one on everyone before I let them leave my domain!”
“You haven’t landed a flick on me,” Sungchul pointed out.
“Or Seiji,” Nicholas Cox chimed in.
“Or Jesse.” Jesse would have expected Kyle to point that out, but it was Eugene who spoke.
“Yeah, duh. Everyone I actually fenced.”
“We’ve got four hours of free time tomorrow before the bus,” Eugene said with a roll of his shoulders. “I could carve out some time for a rematch. Or you could teach me to flick.”
“In exchange for what?” Van challenged.
“Don’t go giving away team secrets,” Scott scolded.
“I could teach you how to repair the three épées sitting in your locker.”
Gian’s eyes gleamed.
“Deal! But I still want a rematch.”
“Great, let’s do it right after I fence Sungchul for our deciding match. We’re six-six now.”
“It would probably behoove you to leave while we’re tied.”
“Put your money where your mouth is,” Eugene crowed.
Conversation continued, loud and leaping and filled with friendly challenge. And some less friendly challenges—Kyle and Nicholas seemed to have some bad blood between them. He’d have to ask about it later.
“Let’s have a movie night again,” Eugene suggested as everyone started clearing their dinners.
“You mean let’s review and analyze matches,” Sungchul said.
“That’s exactly what I said.”
“Come on, curfew’s in twenty minutes,” Jesse told Eugene. And anyone else smart enough to listen. Being well rested was vital to good health, and good health meant better fencing.
But when lights-out came, Jesse couldn’t fall asleep. The beds here weren’t as comfortable as his bed at Exton, and even with his sleeping mask on, it was too bright from the hideous digital clocks and ever-shining lamp posts just outside their window.
He gave up with a sigh, ripping off his mask as he sat up.
“You good?” Eugene’s voice drifted from below. Jesse always took top bunk and the twins always shared.
“Why are you awake?” Jesse asked. Eugene could sleep anywhere.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re dramatic about everything, Jess. Including not being able to fall asleep.”
“And that concerns you how?” Jesse asked crossly.
“You keep tossing and turning, making this entire bed shake.”
“Sorry for being so dramatic, I’ll stop being so disturbing.”
The bed creaked. Then shook, practically tilting. And then Eugene was there, standing on the ladder, torso turned toward Jesse.
“What’s up?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re on edge and rolling all around. You’re not usually a restless sleeper.”
Jesse briefly wondered why Eugene would have noticed that before a memory of his head resting on Eugene’s soft chest, bodies fit together in sleep, floated through his mind. For no reason Jesse could discern, the memory made him blush.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Jesse said. He didn’t think anything was keeping him from sleeping. “Except this bed. Mine is much more comfortable.”
“Yeah because you brought in a custom mattress your freshman year.”
“Administration was very understanding. Their star pupil needs his rest to bring glory to the school, you know.”
“What will they do without you?”
“Beg me to have a child at nineteen to raise into a new prodigy for them, obviously.”
Eugene snorted. Then his expression turned contemplative.
“Do you want kids?”
“Not at nineteen.”
“Eventually?”
Jesse frowned, unable to come up with an answer.
“I don’t know. When I think about my future, I think about training and bringing home gold in the Olympics.”
“I should have guessed that.”
“I suppose kids are in your future?”
“I think so. You could borrow them, see if you like kids.”
“That’s just you tricking me into babysitting so you can have a date night,” Jesse said.
Eugene laughed.
“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t be a doting honorary uncle. I see the way your parents spoil you.”
“And I turned out perfect,” Jesse said, good humor escaping him. He didn’t know why.
“So perfect that Exton will want a clone of you.”
“Exactly.”
Eugene huffed, the conversation naturally coming to its conclusion, but he didn’t move to leave. He just stood there comfortably at the side of Jesse’s bed.
“So…Sungchul,” Jesse said eventually.
“Yeah, he can definitely pose a problem,” Eugene said. Jesse examined him, lips pursing accidentally.
“Rivalries can be…titillating.”
Eugene snorted—actually snorted. The sort of sound that came out when beverages were in danger of being expelled through nostrils. Luckily, there were no beverages in the conversation.
“Titillating?” Eugene repeated.
“Yes!” Jesse snapped. “It’s a word. Look it up.”
“It’s a ridiculous word. I can’t believe you just used it. But don’t worry, my tits don’t feel anything particular about Sungchul.”
“You are such an—ugh! I don’t even know. Weirdo.”
“You started it.”
“Whatever. I was only saying that many people find a thrill in rivalry. I thought you might be one of them.”
“Oh, definitely. Nothing pumps me up like a good rival. I am competitive, you know. I like throwing myself at a challenge.”
“So you’ll be throwing yourself at Sungchul, then?” Jesse asked, expecting and enjoying Eugene’s laugh.
“You know what I mean.”
“Do I?”
“I’d hope so. You’re the same way. You threw yourself at me, remember?” Eugene raised his eyebrows.
Jesse spluttered.
“I did no such thing!”
“I was your last challenge. It gets you going.”
Oh.
“Right. Of course. And that means what about Sungchul?”
Eugene gave him a strange look.
“Nothing. Just that it’s fun to be in friendly competition. It’s different than the motivation to match you, and it’s good to have both.”
“What’s the difference?”
“One,” Eugene said, “I’m working against. The other, I’m working toward.”
“Oh my god, will you both go to bed,” one of the twins groaned. It was hard to say which.
Jesse had completely forgotten about them.
“Good night,” Eugene said, quiet and private like their conversation. Then, with a grin, he propelled himself off the ladder in a jump and turned to the bunk bed next to theirs. “You’re fine, we’re going to bed.”
It turned out to be true because Jesse fell into sleep without trouble after that.
Chapter Text
Eugene started the day giving an armament lesson, which hadn’t been the intention, but most fencers really didn’t know how to do repairs, and these fencers were interested enough in anything fencing-related to pay attention when they saw something they didn’t know already. So he ended up with almost everyone gathered around him to listen as he walked Gian through repairing his blades.
“Eugene, stop playing around with swords,” Jesse huffed at the tail end of the forty-minute demonstration. “Come fence.”
“I’m sorry,” Eugene said, eyebrows raising as he looked up to Jesse’s demanding pout. “You want me to stop playing with swords so I can go play sword fighting with you? Did I get that right?”
“You can have him back this afternoon, but Eugene has business with Halverton first,” Gian grinned.
Jesse’s head snapped right to Scott.
“If you think you can poach Eugene, you’re delusional.”
“I have more common sense than to try.” Scott considered a moment, looking down at Gian and Eugene, sitting cross-legged on the salle floor with their toys spread over a tarp. “I make no promises about my teammates.”
“Gian owes me a lesson and Sungchul owes me a tie breaker,” Eugene supplied. “But I’ll fence you after that, yeah?”
Jesse’s expression betrayed how unimpressed he was with Eugene’s decision to prioritize other people, but he sighed and left Eugene to his bouts.
Learning the flick was way more fun than being victim to it. Eugene didn’t pick it up nearly as quickly as Nick had last year, but he’d put in the work and add it to his repertoire over the next few months.
“If you practice that on your captain, take videos!” Terrell shouted.
“Jesse would kill me,” Eugene shouted back, returning to the fencing dummy he’d actually been testing it out on under Gian’s supervision.
“It could be funny,” Gian offered.
“Until I kicked him off the team,” Jesse retorted from somewhere behind them. “Flicks hurt. And they’re annoying.”
“Yeah,” Gian said enthusiastically. “That’s why they’re the best!”
“I’ll get you with one this season,” Eugene promised.
“You better!”
“But right now I’d better go win a final round against your teammate.”
“You can try,” Gian said in good spirits, waving Eugene off to his next partner.
“First to five, no doubles?” Eugene asked as he and Sungchul found an empty piste.
Sungchul gave a nod. And then they were lunging into a new match, fresh and unburdened from drills and themes. It was fun to face Sungchul this way, to see more of his natural style—which moves he was most fond of when not calculating for points.
“Match point,” Sungchul said with a small, satisfied smile as he turned from his final flèche. “I won. You shouldn’t have tried a move you learned five minutes ago against me.”
Eugene shrugged. “Gotta try it at some point. And it would have been really funny to win because of a flick, you have to admit.”
“I like this punchline better.”
“I’ll get the last laugh next time we fence. But that was fun,” he said, offering a hand. “Thanks for fencing with me.”
Sungchul took it with a nod before leaving Eugene to search the sea of boys for a particularly tall and blond one.
“Jesse, wanna fence?” Eugene called, catching his attention from several strips away, but Jesse shook his head.
“I promised Kyle I’d help him. I’ll find you after, just don’t get tied up in something else before I do, okay?”
“I make no promises,” Eugene said with a grin so Jesse knew he wasn’t mad at being blown off. He turned to look over the salle for something interesting to watch or someone new to fence.
Apparently his intent was obvious.
“I’ll fence with you!” a boy shouted eagerly, followed by a couple others. They were the new, younger members of the various teams collected here, Eugene realized as it occurred to him that they only saw him as a fencer able to rival Sungchul and Seiji. To them, he’d never been a throwaway nobody.
“Great,” Eugene said to the first boy. “Micah, right?”
“Yeah! I’m the reserve for MacRob.”
Their matches weren’t long, but Micah was enthusiastic and happy to take notes, trying to apply them with varying levels of success. Eugene enjoyed helping him, passing on some of the wisdom and kindness he’d received all year.
He fenced a couple of the other fencers he hadn’t met on the ladder, waiting for Jesse to find him. It was Kyle’s voice rather than Jesse’s, however, that told Eugene he was done with his cousin.
“Doesn’t Kings Row have to pay to have you on the team?” Kyle asked loudly. “Are they really so desperate? I mean, after your performance last year, I can’t imagine why they renewed the subscription.”
Eugene didn’t even have to turn to know who Kyle was picking a fight with.
“I bet Lowther charges you extra to attend,” Nick fired back. “They probably only let you on the team to make you shut up because your voice is so annoying.”
“You’re just a pity project of your incompetent coach.”
“A pity project that beat your ass four times just this camp. You haven’t improved at all since last year, doesn’t that embarrass you? You’re just riding on coattails you can’t even keep up with.”
“Fence me now without any modifications to rules and I’ll show you where you belong—”
“Kyle,” Eugene interrupted sharply, coming to the pair of them and stepping between any physical altercation that might have been brewing. “Stop acting like a playground bully. We’re here to fence, not insult people for no reason.”
“You stay out of this,” Kyle barked, rounding on Eugene.
“Not until you drop it and go fence with someone you can speak to like an adult.”
Kyles face lit red.
“Maybe your precious cousin would be willing to teach you some more. But not even he cares that much about—”
“Nick, not helping,” Eugene snapped over his shoulder.
“What? If he can’t take it, he shouldn’t dish it.”
“Which is why I think we’ll all be happier if you two walk away without fencing just this once.”
“I’m not done teaching him a lesson,” Kyle protested. Nick’s dark expression said just about the same thing.
“You should have learned better than this attitude already, dude.”
That made Kyle whirl at him instead.
“Did my uncle teach you to stick up for weaklings? You know, he spends so much time coaching you, he’s basically winning your matches for you. It was the same with Seiji. I’ve learned just fine on my own and I’ve learned to win.”
“How you behave if you win is just as important as winning.”
“Thanks, but if I want a self-help book, I’ll go to a library.”
“And you know you could just ask him to coach you too. I don’t see why he wouldn’t.”
“Dad would be happy to help you,” Jesse said, stopping next to Eugene. “What’s going on over here?”
“I’m telling Kyle not to be a dick.”
Jesse’s eyebrows pinched, gaze moving from Kyle to Nick.
“Are you sure he started it?” Jesse asked. “That one yelled at me for no reason last year.”
“Jesse, don’t be a dick. You know his name is Nick.”
“He’s got no manners,” Jesse complained, as if that was an excuse to belittle him.
“You’ve got no respect for boundaries, you dick. Which is way worse.”
“What?” Jesse asked, affronted enough by the outburst to blink in surprise at Nick.
“You were such a creep to Seiji last year, practically stalking him.”
“Attending school events I was invited to is hardly stalking,” Jesse spluttered, but his cheeks were rosy.
“I don’t know why anyone would want to be friends with you when you turn psycho if they don’t do what you want.”
“Okay,” Eugene cut in, “this isn’t helping anything. Yes, Jesse, I’m sure Kyle started it. And you started it too—we’ve all grown since last year, and Nick’s left you alone just like you’ve left Seiji alone. Now it’s Kyle’s turn to learn when and how to shut up.”
Eugene saw the flash of contrarian anger in Jesse’s eyes, but he shook it off.
“Eugene’s right,” he said with hardly any sulk at all. “Why do you even have such a problem with him? Fencing is an honorable sport. We’re supposed to respect our opponents, no matter how we feel about them.”
Nick scoffed.
“Looking down on the rest of us isn’t exactly respect, but whatever.”
“It’s just a fact that I’m the best fencer here,” Jesse bristled. “If you’d stop prattling about beating me, maybe I wouldn’t have to say anything and you wouldn’t feel so looked down on.”
“I didn’t say anything to you this year, you thieving asshole.”
“Okay, this is really not going anywhere productive,” Eugene interrupted again. “Nick, sorry about these clowns. Go harass Seiji and I’ll keep them busy.”
“Yeah, good plan. I’d rather fucking marry Seiji than be in their company for another second, so I don’t envy you.”
“Doesn’t he like Seiji?” Jesse asked curiously, watching Nick’s back as he stalked off. “Why is he talking about marrying Seiji like it’s the lesser of two evils?”
“They fight like you wouldn’t believe, but, yeah, they’re basically obsessed with each other.”
Kyle glanced at Jesse with a concerned frown he hid quickly.
“Well, if that’s Seiji’s type, it’s no wonder he…” Kyle coughed awkwardly, garnering a frown from Jesse in return. Eugene remembered Kyle’s implication about Jesse and Seiji’s relationship last year and wondered how well he actually knew Jesse.
“So, wanna practice flicks with me?” Eugene asked the pair of them.
“Absolutely not.”
“No way.”
“Fine, then let’s do some of the drills from the ladder. There were some fun ones.”
“There’s three of us,” Kyle pointed out scathingly.
“Ever heard of taking turns? Someone can ref.”
“Fine, but ref gets to decide the theme,” Kyle bargained.
“Cool, you can pick first. What rules will Jesse and I be fencing under?”
“Two for one.”
Eugene groaned at Kyle’s smug expression. Jesse would demolish him five to zero, no doubt about it. But his groan was greatly exaggerated, and he took his place across from Jesse happily. He liked a challenge.
“En garde! Prêts? Allez!” Kyle shouted.
Jesse bolted off the line in a flèche Eugene was sure he’d inherited from Seiji. It was too fast for Eugene to stop, especially because Jesse rarely started a match at a run the way Seiji often would. He was an aggressive fencer, but he was more likely to pull out an advance lunge to start a match than a flèche.
“Point left,” Kyle dictated. “Zero-zero.”
If Eugene could just keep Jesse from scoring a second clean hit, he wouldn’t get the point. Which meant Eugene needed to either hit him cleanly or get a double, hitting Jesse in the same instant he was hit, rendering Jesse’s second hit invalid for the purposes of the exercise.
He waited for Jesse’s attack, watching his tempo closely to judge the moment he’d explode, ready to disrupt. When the attack came, Eugene pushed it into fourth, but he had to retreat before he could riposte; Jesse was already slipping off his blade.
“You need to take advantage of leverage and biomechanics,” Jesse tsked. “Brute force is great, but clear-headed fencers can escape it if you give them the chance—hey!”
“Point right! Zero-zero.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Eugene winked at Jesse, enjoying his indignant face and the dart of his tongue sticking out at Eugene before he swept away to retake his line.
But Eugene’s slightly underhanded hit didn’t do anything for him. Jesse scored on him before he could claim a point by getting a second touch. He managed to fend Jesse off, blocking him from getting two hits in a row a good number of times and dragging the match out to a good length. But in the end, Eugene was right. Jesse had five points to Eugene’s zero.
“Just for that,” Eugene said to Kyle, pointing down to the end of the strip, “I’m putting you in the cage.”
This bout went by much faster, as did the next several.
“You can go talk to him,” Jesse said after their third bout. “Your old teammate. I know you want to go smooth over any hard feelings.”
There was only one teammate Jesse could be talking about. Eugene hadn’t had a chance to talk to Bobby at all, and Seiji was pissed at him; both of them seemed to be avoiding him. And Eugene got it. He wouldn’t push it. But he did feel uneasy from his last interaction with Nick, who didn’t seem to be avoiding him.
“Am I that predictable?”
“I’d like to say it’s because I know you too well, but the truth is yes, anyone who’s paid attention at all knows you’re not the type to leave conflicts hanging.”
Eugene grimaced, feeling like a coward for letting the rift between him and Bobby remain there or the tangle of anger and confusion stay between him and Seiji.
“Go talk to Nicholas,” Jesse said. “Save the others for later.”
“You do know me too well,” Eugene smiled. “Thanks. I’ll catch up with you soon.”
Eugene had a hard time tracking Nick down, and he wondered if he and Seiji had found a closet to fight in until he spotted Nick in a corner, scribbling down notes.
“Hey,” Eugene said, coming up to him, seeing stick figure diagrams of moves, carefully, if messily, labeled. “What’re you working on mastering now?”
“Just defenses against Seiji’s stupid favorite move.”
“Still can’t get past it?”
“Rarely. Sungchul wasn’t willing to help me either, but I’ve been watching their matches.”
“Yeah, most teams aren’t as forthcoming with information as Seiji is,” Eugene chuckled. “That used to annoy Aiden so much, do you remember?”
“Yeah,” Nick agreed with a smile, letting Eugene help him to his feet. “He’s too straightforward for mind games. Guess that’s one of his better qualities. And anyway, he hates teaching people anything. He just answers questions and points out flaws.”
“I remember. He’s got a way with words.”
“No kidding.”
Despite the light conversation, Eugene noticed Nick’s attention flit to the strip he’d just come from. It wasn’t a surprise when Nick spoke again.
“I didn’t need you stepping in with Kyle. I can handle assholes myself.”
“I didn’t think you wanted my help, but Kyle’s my friend, more or less. I’m not going to let him go around being a jerk. Friends keep each other in check as much as they have your back, right?”
“Are you sure he’d have your back? He’s always been a greasy jerk who thinks he’s king of the world.”
“You know me. I try to be there for people,” Eugene shrugged. “I just have to hope they’ll be there for me too when I need it. And that’s not gonna change, even if it’s naive. I’m sorry Kyle’s such an obnoxious dick in the salle, but I think he could shape up.”
“And fencing with Robert Coste is going to help that?” Nick asked dubiously. “He already brags endlessly about the Costes.”
“Sometimes it’s easier to talk a big talk than deal with your insecurities.”
“Whatever. He’s still an asshole. I didn’t know you were friends with those.”
“I inherited him from Jesse.”
“Like you inherited Robert? I didn’t know he was coaching you.”
“It’s more like he inherited me from Jesse, honestly.”
“Right.”
There was a strange tension in the room. One Eugene didn’t want to leave, knowing it would be there a little thicker the next time they spoke.
“I’m sorry about Kyle, and I don’t give people endless chances. If he keeps up his bullshit, I’ll tell Jesse I don’t care if he’s his cousin, I’m done. But Seiji’s a jerk too, even if he’s a different flavor, and I know you like him—”
“I do not!”
“So can we call a truce?” Eugene asked. “I never got to fence you and we still have time left.”
Nick’s expression smoothed slowly out into a smile Eugene was glad to see as the tension drained away.
“Yeah, let’s do it. I bet I can land more flicks on you than you can on me.”
“You’re on.”
Fencing Nick was surreal in an entirely different way than fencing Seiji. He was back at Kings Row, practicing with his teammate and fellow reserve. But it was nothing like those times too. They’d both improved too much to compare this match with any they’d had before. Nick picked things up incredibly fast, and he’d advanced at a crazy rate. He landed more flicks on Eugene than the single one Eugene got—basically by luck—but Eugene won the bout to fifteen points by a healthy margin.
“Finish up your last matches!” Coach Brooks shouted. “Those of you visiting from other schools should start getting cleaned up for your long drives home.”
“Hey, that was fun,” Eugene said holding out his knuckles for Nick to bump. “You’ve really stepped up your game.”
“Me? You’ve turned into a fucking monster, dude,” Nick grinned in return. “But you need to work on your flicks.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t practice on you more. And who do you pick on now? Seiji would kill you as dead as Jesse would kill me for that shit, and I can’t picture you hurting poor Bobby. Are you bullying your newbie?”
“I am not! Seiji leaves way more bruises than I do. Besides, I’ve got the flick down thanks to your and Terrell’s sacrifice, so I don’t need to constantly practice it on someone anymore.”
“Right, because now you’re onto defeating Seiji’s flèche.”
“You know it.”
“Wanna swap strategies?”
“Sure.”
They walked together to the gym and scrubbed down in the little showers, talking over the loud showers and short walls just like old times. It made Eugene miss those times in a realer way than he had in months.
“We should fence again sometime,” Eugene said as they left the gym, walking back in the direction of the guest dorms. “Do you do any local competitions?”
“I’m not there yet,” Nick said with a grimace. “I know my standing better now than I did last year, you know? I need to improve more before I go for it.”
“Then we’re getting you signed up for the next one,” Eugene declared. “Competitions are a lot like camp in a way. It’s crazy how much you can learn in just a day, especially since you’ll start with open rounds instead of direct elimination, so you actually get to fence.”
“I don’t know if it’s really worth it. But maybe I should be listening to you.”
“Absolutely. I’m full of great ideas and advice.”
“Just not directions,” Nick said flatly.
“Man, it is half your fault for seriously thinking the fencing club was in the forest,” Eugene laughed, remembering pointing Nick in the wrong direction the first day of tryouts last year. “But seriously, you should get into the competition scene. The biggest mistake fencers make when it comes to competing is waiting until they’re good enough. That’s what Coach says—Robert, I mean. Mr. Coste.”
“It sounds like he’s a good coach,” Nick said, a note of something Eugene couldn’t identify in his voice.
“The best. It’s like, working with him, the way I see fencing changed—like I was thinking about it wrong before. It’s unlocked something in my mind that just has everything making sense in a way that’s not just doing reps, you know?”
“Maybe,” Nick shrugged. “I think so. But you’d probably say you understood fencing last year too.”
“I guess. Shit, the busses will be leaving soon, I’ve gotta go get my stuff. But it was good talking to you.”
“Bye, Eugene. See you around.”
“For sure.”
Chapter Text
“Let’s debrief on what we learned at camp,” Coach Donati said as they convened the day after their return from Halverton.
“Nick’s shaping up to be a threat,” Eugene offered, which Jesse found generous. “Seiji might have been giving his all, but I think Nick was holding back. You didn’t fence him, but I did. He should have made it higher on the ladder than he did.”
Donati frowned, considering Eugene’s assessment.
“We’ll have to watch him during some of Kings Row’s real matches,” she granted. “They have at least grown past their tolerance of slackers.”
“Technically, Aiden graduated,” Aster pointed out, which only made her frown deepen.
“I never did understand why Sally insisted on keeping that deadbeat on her team. I’d assume it was a bribe if I thought the brat cared enough about fencing to have his father buy his spot on the team.”
Jesse noticed Eugene shifting uncomfortably next to him and wasn’t surprised when he rose to his old teammate’s defense.
“Aiden’s a good fencer. And he does like it or he wouldn’t have bothered showing up at all.”
Coach Donati clicked her tongue.
“Being good isn’t nearly enough. You need dedication to win. Which that Kane boy didn’t have.”
“Even if the entire team was as dedicated as Seiji, Kings Row never stood a chance against us,” Jesse cut in, redirecting the conversation. He thought their coach was right, but Eugene was loyal to a fault. He’d defend Aiden Kane and his undeserved throne at Kings Row to the end. “And that goes double for this year. Isn’t that right, Eugene?”
A brief conflict sparked determination in Eugene’s eyes.
“We’re taking state for sure,” he agreed. “Jesse and I will go to some Kings Row matches this year and report back.”
“Good,” Donati agreed.
At no point was Jesse consulted about attending, but he didn’t complain. If Eugene was going, it was natural he’d be going too.
The team spent half an hour analyzing all they’d learned over the previous days, and Jesse felt satisfied by their time there. It had been good for Eugene, but he wasn’t the only one to benefit from camp either.
“Why don’t we participate in any of the practice matches we’re invited to?” Eugene asked after seeing the note of Ravenswood’s invitation on Jesse’s clipboard before he set it down to start practice.
“We have better uses of our time. If Halverton invites us to one, I’m sure we’d take it, but they don’t do practice matches either. It just doesn’t benefit us while it gives them a practice run against us before the season.”
“We definitely deserve the reputation of being pompous and exclusive,” Eugene grimaced.
“I know it’s not your style, but you have to prioritize improvement over politeness when you’re the best.”
“Sure. But I miss competing. The season can’t start soon enough.”
“Seeing as I’ve been to three football games this year, I don’t feel bad for you. And you’re competing in plenty of local tournaments.”
Eugene grinned.
“What can I say, I’m a competitive guy.”
“Which is why it’s so insane you’re nowhere near as intense as someone with your mindset should be.”
“I like to have fun.”
“You having fun is devastating to other schools,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “This is the best Exton has done in football in years. And it’s sure not hurting your popularity. It’s a good thing you’re graduating this year or you might be a serious threat to my title of most popular boy in school.”
Eugene scoffed, scruffing up Jesse’s hair.
“As if I could out-charm you. I just like making friends, that’s all.”
Jesse eyed Eugene.
“You’re not seriously oblivious to how amazing you are, are you?”
“What?”
Jesse turned to him fully, pulling up a hand to count fingers off on. “You’re on the fencing team, you’re the star quarterback and captain of the football team who’s won us every game, you’re kind, funny, and handsome, and I know the weight room has never been such a popular destination before this year and I’m pretty sure your proclivity for crop tops and shirtless workouts has something to do with its sudden influx of patrons. Just wait until hockey and baseball start. How were you so underappreciated at Kings Row? I mean, honestly. Was everyone really so obsessed with Aiden Kane they couldn’t see anyone else?”
“Dude, you’re gonna make me blush,” Eugene laughed. “I’m not all that. And Aiden was pretty blinding.”
“Really?” Jesse asked, hand falling as he assessed Eugene sharply. “You think so?”
“Is this where you ask who’s prettier, you or him?”
“Well?”
“You already know my answer. Aiden wouldn’t have stood a chance if you’d been a Kings Row boy.”
“Hm.”
“Hey, did you use to visit the weight room regularly?” Eugene asked out of nowhere. Jesse spun and cleared his throat to address the the team.
“Alright, warm-up is over. It’s time to start practice. We’re working on compound attacks today, so we’ll start with a demo and drills before some themed bouts.”
“Do you think they’ll give full effort during practice matches?” Jesse asked Eugene as they filtered into the salle at MLC.
“Last year, we had to. But I don’t know about this year. Only two members are the same, and Nick’s not the same fencer he was when I knew him. Their strategy has got to have changed. But I can’t imagine Nick or Seiji tolerating a loss just to hide an extra edge. If it comes down to it, Nick will go all out.”
“Then let’s hope MLC is good enough to make them squirm.”
“Man, being here brings back memories. It was one of the only times I actually fenced that season.”
“What, during the practice match?”
“Yeah. Shouldn’t have surprised me when I was cut from the team.”
Jesse felt a familiar anger bubbling up in him on Eugene’s behalf. In the end, it had been for the best. It had brought Eugene right to him. But it wasn’t fair at all.
“We should try not to draw attention to ourselves,” Jesse said. “If they see us watching them, it could influence how they fence.”
With a nod, Eugene took Jesse’s wrist and pulled him into a corner with good visibility from their perspective that was shielded against the eyes of the away team. Only someone on the strip might see them, and theoretically, they’d be too busy fencing to spot them.
“Nick’s fast,” Eugene said as they waited on the coin toss.
“So everyone keeps saying. And aggressive. And left-handed.”
“That sums him up. Sums you up too. Without any nuance, that is.”
Jesse scowled. He didn’t like being compared to Nicholas Cox.
“His problem was always his technique and accuracy. He still transmits his next move, but his accuracy has improved—basically every point would have landed true if I hadn’t been able to avoid it. We should watch for that.”
“He sees openings almost as quickly as I do,” Jesse agreed reluctantly. “If he could take advantage of that fully, he’d be a lot harder to beat.”
“Exactly.”
Jesse didn’t want Eugene’s old teammate to be so improved thanks to the very same school that had neglected him for years, allowing him to stagnate rather than train him the way Nicholas Cox had clearly been.
“No matter how much he’s improved, you’re still miles ahead. I can guarantee that.”
“We’ll see.”
And they did. Jesse watched each bout with keen interest. If Eugene thought they were a threat, he’d trust him. Seiji was unstoppable, but the short one counterbalanced him to a degree. He hesitated too much, wavering instead of getting into an advantageous position to work the short zone. Clearly, Kings Row poured most of its attention into Nicholas. The boy was frustratingly strong now. Not great, but on the way there. It would be another year or two of intense training before Jesse would count him as a personal threat, but he was a definite asset to the team.
“We never got to see Zayn in action,” Eugene said when the match was over, victory going to Kings Row. “But I don’t think he’s a secret weapon.”
“You were right about Nicholas holding back at camp,” Jesse conceded. “We can see about attending more of their matches with the twins, but while they might be trouble for other teams, Kings Row is nothing we can’t handle.”
Chapter 46
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Eugene,” a boy in Eugene’s AP U.S. history class called as he was halfway out of the room. “I hear you got full marks on the test.”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, guess I did.” History was his best subject—it was about the only class he got full marks in. “Looking for a study buddy?”
“Eugene,” Jesse said impatiently beside him. “We’re going to be last in line for lunch.”
“I could really use the help,” the boy said with a sheepish smile. “If you’ve got a study group or something…”
“Yeah, sure! Jesse and I could move studying to the library.”
“Possibly,” Jesse amended. “Our fencing schedule is so intense, you know how it is. We keep odd hours, not always in keeping with suitable study hall hours.”
“Here, let me grab your number, and I’ll keep you updated,” Eugene said, handing over his phone, which was already open for a new contact.
“You can’t go around taking on more responsibility, Eugene,” Jesse hissed when they were safely out of earshot of their classmate. “You’ll stretch yourself too thin.”
“We’re already studying together,” Eugene pointed out. “How does adding a third person hurt?”
“Because they’ll ask questions and need your attention. And then everyone else in the class will want to come study with us and it will be a whole ordeal. You’re supposed to help me, not the entire class.”
“Don’t be a brat. I can do both.”
“You know I hate it when you call me that.”
“Which is why I’m telling you to stop acting like one.”
“Did you know I also got a hundred on that test?” Jesse asked, changing topics smoothly.
“Yeah, we celebrated with strawberry ice cream.”
“I’m just saying, he should have been asking me for study help too.”
“You are way too intimidating for that,” Eugene laughed. “And you would have said no.”
“Still.”
“Still nothing. It won’t hurt to study in the library like once a week.”
Jesse harrumphed, but he followed Eugene to the library later that week with their history textbooks. He was only slightly sullen.
“Just to be clear,” Jesse said as they sat down, “Eugene’s taken for any and all group projects.”
Eugene looked up to the stands, trying to spot his people in the crowd. He found them thanks to his dad’s enthusiastic waving, revealing his entire family and Jesse sitting next to them. Jesse looked up to wave at Eugene too as he raised a hand to let his dad know he saw them. Delight sparked through Eugene as he saw the bright blue number “7” on Jesse’s cheek. The same number that was on Eugene’s back.
“Listen up, boys,” Coach Campbell said, “this game determines whether we make it to the playoffs. We’ve had a good run, but don’t get cocky. Kings Row hasn’t lost a match this season either. Someone is getting knocked out here. Is it going to be us?”
“No, Coach!” the Exton football team chanted.
“We’ve got Kings Row’s best player,” Mateo said. “No way we’re losing to them this year!”
“No, that’s not why we’ll win. We’ve prepared for this,” Eugene said. “We’ve watched their games. We can take them. Everyone remember the play?”Affirmatives all around the group. “Then huddle up and put them here!”
Twenty-eight boys jostled together in a tight circle, hands overlapping in the center.
“One, two, three—”
“Excellentia vincit!”
It was truly bizarre to be playing on Kings Row’s football field on the wrong side of the stadium. How many games had he played here? This would be his last.
Eugene led their offensive team into the field with whoops and cheers from the away bleachers. He looked up one more time to wave at his family and Jesse. He knew they were worried for him going against Kings Row. But there was no reason for their extra loud cheers or the number painted on Jesse’s cheek.
It wasn’t painful to go against old friends. Football wasn’t like fencing, and he’d had teammates get poached before. It was all about going where you could get scouted. It didn’t feel so personal. Not that Eugene’s goal had ever been about scouting.
Taking in the defensive lineup, Eugene assessed their play, finding it sound. He tracked their most likely moves, predicted what matchups they’d be dealing with and felt good about their chances.
The ball snapped and Eugene took it as his team ran into position, his left tackle protecting him while he sprinted to throw the ball to Shane. Ten meters, right there. Eugene pumped his fist in victory.
The game was off to a good start. Exton kept the trend positive, but the game was going long. By halftime, everyone was covered in dirt and sweat but wearing grins.
“Hey, Labao, isn’t that your boy?” Dawson called, catching Eugene’s attention and directing it to the stands.
“I guess you could categorize him that way,” Eugene said dubiously, watching Jesse pick his way toward the bench.
“You know spectators aren’t allowed on the field,” his coach bellowed. “Get him out of here.”
“That’s Jesse Coste,” Liu said. “You know, the golden boy fencer, prince of the school?”
“Don’t care. No exceptions.”
“He’s Eugene’s,” Dawson reiterated, loud enough for their coach to hear.
Coach Campbell grunted.
“Don’t make it a habit,” he warned, jerking his head in permission for Eugene to go meet Jesse.
“Got it, Coach,” Eugene said, taking another look at Jesse before making a quick detour to his pile of stuff behind the bench.
“Isn’t this supposed to be an hour-long thing?” Jesse complained the minute Eugene got to him. “It’s been two. And it’s only halfway done. Why do they keep stopping the clock?”
“We’ve gone over this before.”
“And it’s stupid every time.” Jesse rubbed hands up and down his arms. “Tonight’s especially long. And cold.”
“I can’t fix your issue with the clock, but I can help with the cold,” Eugene offered, showing Jesse the jacket he’d grabbed.
“Your letterman’s jacket?” Jesse asked with a raised eyebrow. “You know we’ll never beat those dating allegations at this rate, don’t you?”
“Damn, you’re right. Wouldn’t want people making assumptions. Better just put this back—”
“Wait!” Jesse said, grabbing for the jacket Eugene hadn’t even withdrawn yet and wrapping himself in it. “You’d better win this game, Eugene. If I’m out here freezing my ass off, bored out of my mind for nothing, I’ll be very annoyed with you.”
“Did your phone run out of charge?”
“Like twenty minutes ago,” Jesse confirmed.
“Check the pocket of my jacket. If mine’s still in there and you can guess the passcode, feel free to entertain yourself on it.”
“Really? You’d trust me on your phone?”
“Should I not?”
“Don’t you have gym selfies or something on here you don’t want me seeing? Or, I don’t know, private messages?”
“I’m an open book. Snoop all you want, you won’t find anything on me you don’t already know.”
“I won’t,” Jesse said, biting his cheek. “I’ll just play one of the stupid games you have downloaded.”
“Make sure to look up for the winning play, okay?”
“Make sure you’re scoring the winning goal or whatever and I might be interested.”
“I’ll do my best. Now I gotta get my ass back to the field. But thanks for being here.”
“Good luck.”
Eugene hardly needed the luck, but he was glad for it anyway. It warmed pleasantly through his chest as the thrill of competition buzzed through his veins.
Kings Row had a solid team, but Eugene knew their captain too well. He could anticipate plays and hone in on player weaknesses. And Exton was nothing if not ambitious—he’d found the football team eager to train and able to push themselves to improve incredibly.
“This is it,” he told the huddle, his breath puffing in the cold air. “Only one school can advance to state from our region, and it’s going to be us. But we have to play it smart. They can still recover. We need to make sure we tighten up our defense and ensure that doesn’t happen.”
Eugene watched from the sidelines as Chad Armstrong, an old buddy from Kings Row, blew through the defense all on his own. Which was why Eugene hadn’t wasted bodies on him, instead delegating greater efforts to make sure the ball never got where it needed to.
“Yes!” Eugene cheered when Dawson successfully intercepted it, taking it back down the field before he was tackled. “Three more downs. Keep pushing them back,” he advised uselessly to his teammates out on the field.
Kings Row won back four downs, but Exton was able to minimize their damage to a field goal.
“Great job!” he told his team, clapping shoulders and catching hands. “We’re set up for the win!”
“Take us home, Captain,” Dawson said with a grin, spitting out his mouthpiece.
“Take us to state,” Liu corrected with a whooping laugh.
“Final stretch, lads,” their coach called. “Let’s finish off strong.”
Eugene took his place on the scrimmage line, possibilities and predictions and plays running through his mind. He called out an alternate, realizing from the defense’s position that Chad had predicted his original choice.
The game shot into motion and Eugene’s world narrowed down to the ball and the path it needed to take. He stayed focused on it, down after down, throw after throw. The clock was finally running out. The final play was up, but the path was blocked; not a single one of his boys was open.
But the field…
Eugene ran.
He was glad for the endurance and speed he’d gained with Jesse’s training, sure it was the only thing keeping him from being taken down.
The roaring cheers and screams from the bleachers and his team told Eugene he’d made it. He threw the ball down into the end zone with a triumphant cheer of his own.
“Touchdown!”
The announcer called the game, declaring Exton as the winning team. His team flooded onto the field to celebrate, drowning Eugene in back slaps and shoulder claps and high fives and crushing group hugs. He laughed through all of it, exultant.
“How are we celebrating?” one of the guys asked. “Any good pizza joints around here?”
“In a minute,” Eugene answered, noticing the gathering of people on the side of the field. “I gotta go say hi to my family.”
“That was so cool!” Fritz said, bouncing up and down before launching at Eugene for a hug.
“Great job, Gene,” Dad said, pulling him into a side hug as Fritz still hung onto him. Mom was next to wrap her arms around him, squashing Fritz in the middle without hesitation.
“We’re so proud of you,” she said. “Always. You worked so hard for this.”
“Thank you all for coming,” Eugene said, looking around at his personal little crowd. “I was on my best game, knowing I had your support.”
Luna blew a sound of disgust from her lips, the verbal equivalent of rolled eyes.
“Don’t be a sentimental sap,” she told him. “It’s embarrassing.”
“Me? Embarrassing? I just scored a touchdown thanks to the power of love and friendship, and you call me embarrassing?” he demanded, catching her in a noogie she kicked him for.
“We won’t keep you long,” Dad said even as his brothers started relaying their favorite plays. “Your team’s waiting for you to celebrate.”
Eugene looked over his shoulder at them, then back to his family.
“I could celebrate with you instead,” he shrugged.
“You just call us when you’re back to school safely, okay?” Mom asked. “We’ll have a little celebration tomorrow if you can spare a night?” For this question, she looked to Jesse.
“Of course,” Jesse, keeper of schedules and ruthless captain of fencing teams, said with a cherub sweet smile.
With hugs and goodbyes, Eugene’s family filtered out with the rest of the crowd.
“You’ll need this,” Jesse said, holding out Eugene’s phone.
“Thanks,” Eugene said, taking it. “Did you get into it?”
“Your password is tragically easy to guess. The year your favorite sneakers were released? I guessed it on my fourth try.”
“Yeah? What were your first three?”
Jesse went a little pink around the cheeks.
“One of them was your birthday. Which, you asshole, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me in August when it passed! I had to ask your mom!”
“You didn’t tell me your birthday last year either. Now we’re even.”
“But we were closer during yours.”
“I didn’t have a party or anything. Just family. But I’ll invite you next time, I promise. Speaking of, do you wanna come get pizza with the team?”
“What?”
“I think you earned it, sitting bored in the cold for four hours and all,” Eugene said, reaching out to trace the face paint on Jesse’s cheek. “You’d fit right in.”
“I’ll pass,” Jesse said, but not before considering it. “They’ll be loud and only want to talk about football. But the next time you celebrate a big win, I’ll be there. Our season starts next week, remember?”
Since their first fencing match of the season was the day before Eugene left for state with the football team, Jesse had a good chance of getting that right.
“I can’t wait.”
Notes:
Do you know how much research I had to do for this chapter? Do you know how skeptical I still am of its accuracy??
I watched so many videos explaining football shit, read SO many rulebooks, wikis, and reddit posts, AND trapped my father into answering my dumbass questions on a 40 minute car ride that sTILL had us sitting in the car in the driveway for another 20 because I was confused.
Rereading this chapter for editing was like gibberish to me. The things I’d marked with a ‘*’ to check on later made me laugh out loud because why the fuc k did past me think future me would know literally any better? that asshole just wanted to make me go back into a research spiral to confirm what i'd already thought was right
Anyway, I apologize to the American football fandom for any offense my efforts may cause. im sorry and ill watch the superbowl this year to improve smh
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