Maybe it Was a Ghost

by LostLitany

Summary:

Feelings were messy. Tucker hated them.

Anger was why his girlfriend had to check on the upstairs neighbor the first night it got loud
Happiness was why he visited their favorite coffee shop again and again
Curiosity was why he made friends with that barista
Fear was why his best friend was stuck in a toxic relationship
Guilt was why he felt like he couldn’t breathe

 

Love was why he was in this mess to begin with

 

-
Alternatively; Dash is abusing Danny, and Tucker and Sam provide him a safe space to live again.
(Based on the song “Must Have Been The Wind” by Alec Benjamin)

Notes:

A fic for the 2025 Invisobang!

I had a lovely time paired with KC/13thCat, who made some incredibly stunning art
(Links will be updated once posted and provided! 9-5-25)

CWs for each chapter will be thrown in the respective end notes to appease both the friends who like to go in blind and those who need to double check before hand. Stay safe beloveds!!!

Chapter 1: An Unfair Morning

Summary:

Sam and Tucker have just moved into their new apartment! Together they explore the new town, argue about unpacking, and bond over their noisy new neighbors.

---

 

 

“Tucker…” Crossed arms. Weight shifted to one side. Foot tapping on the floor. 

 

“…Sam.” Focused gaze. Leaning forward. Fingers flying over buttons. 

 

Outside the apartment, the last light of the sun cast the world in a dusky twilight glow. 

 

Inside the apartment, a large collection of boxes remained piled around the room, in various states of unpack. 

 

“Look…” Sam forced herself to take a deep breath. “I know I haven’t been home. But we talked about this before, and you said you’d help unpack while I was at orientation today.”

 

Tucker's shoulders raised in annoyance, he leaned closer to the tv. “I did just about all of the stupid packing two weeks ago, and you said when we moved in, you would take the reins on unpacking.”

 

“We were gonna get started as soon as we got here!”

 

“You weren’t here.”

 

“I was at school!”

 

“What if I wanted to stream today!?”

 

“You didn’t,” Sam snarled as she whipped out her phone. “I honestly thought you would have streamed as an excuse to not do any real work today, so I had all my twitch notifications on-”

 

“Excuse me!? What do you mean ‘real work’!?” Tucker’s furious gaze flicked over to her before settling back on the screen. 

 

Sam’s blood boiled. “You said you would unpack.” She took a step in front of the tv.

 

“HEY!” Tucker tried to peer around her. “This game doesn’t have a fricken pause button, Sam!!”

 

“You were gonna unpack!”

 

“You were supposed to be around to help me!!” He shrieked. “You weren’t home! I wasn’t gonna do it alone!”

 

“I’m home now! So get off your ass and-”

 

“I just told you that this game doesn’t have a-”

 

A solid thud drew them both to a stop.

 

Sam stepped off to the side away from the tv. Tucker still couldn’t pause, but- “Sam-”

 

“On it.” She grabbed the tv remote from the stand and muted the screen. 

 

“Y… didn’t answ… texts! …ow was… sed to know!?”

 

“…s late, Fent… ad a deal!”

 

“…ld’ve but y… when …oming back!”

 

A loud shattering noise grated across the ceiling, the epicenter positioned right above where Sam was standing. She flinched back from the sound, moving away from the wall and joining Tucker on the couch. He gently leaned up against her as he finished up his game. 

 

“I shouldn’t have to!! You know better! You sa… care of- …oming home …to help you with this shit!!”

 

“I didn’t know wh… …ash- fuck I’m sorry!”

 

“D… …ry. …etter.”

 

The voices died down, unable to discern through the walls.

 

Rewards collected and game saved, Tucker gently placed his controller next to him on the couch. 

 

When Sam decided she couldn’t hear the neighbors anymore, she turned to her boyfriend. His hands fidgeted with the sleeves of his sweater. 

 

Tucker knew that look. He knew that look all too well. He hated that look. Sam’s eyes swirled with questions, her face filled with determination, her never ending need to do the right thing radiated strongly from her posture. 

 

He shook his head ever so slightly. 

 

“We gotta check.”

 

“Sam… no.”

 

“What if they need help?”

 

“It’s not our business. What if they really don’t want company or visitors or people snooping-”

 

“You heard it! Something broke! What if someone got hurt!?”

 

“I’m sure they have bandaids hiding in their bathroom.” Tucker sagged against the couch, knowing the argument was pointless. “Please… just this once… don’t.”

 

 

---

 

 

“Hey!” Sam beamed as the door opened. Tucker wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. “We’re you’re new neighbors! We just moved in two days ago, we’re the apartment directly under yours! We were just going around the building, introducing ourselves. I’m Sam, and this is Tucker!”

 

Luckily for Tucker, the poor dude on the other side of the door looked just as unsure and uncomfortable as Tucker felt. 

 

“Dan-” their voice cracked, uncomfortably high pitched. They cleared their throat and tried again. “Danny.” Deep black hair fell over their face. Goddamn the dude was pale as shit. The contrast really brought out their features. 

 

Sam grinned, happy to have gotten as far as she had already. Emboldened, she pressed on, voice dipping quieter. “Is everything okay up here?”

 

“Okay?” Their voice cracked again. “Yeah! Yeah, totally. Everything’s okay. Why?”

 

Finally the situation must’ve clicked for Sam. Tucker could see it in her posture. Her shoulders slumped forward and her weight shifted to one leg as she made herself look a bit smaller, unsure. She lowered her voice again, just above a whisper. “We um… we heard like- ya know- a little bit of a ruckus? Nothing too major! A broken glass or something. Just… wanted to check in?”

 

“Huh… a ruckus? Yeah um… so I don’t really know what you mean. But… this building’s pretty old? Sometimes people will hear some weird things from the halls. I always thought that maybe it was… maybe it was a ghost?”

 

The last of the fight drained from Sam. “Oh, yeah.” She nodded along with a small, fake laugh. “That’s cool, I hadn’t thought of ghosts… Sorry. Didn’t mean to bother you.”

 

“No! You didn’t bother me at all!” They tugged on the strings of their oversized hoodie. “Um… really, thanks for caring?” They brushed the hair out of their face. “It’s nice of you to check.”

 

Sam stood up a little straighter. “Of course! If you need anything, let us know!”

 

A gentle smile found its way to their neighbor’s face. “Have a nice night guys.”

 

“You too!”

 

 

---

 

 

Tucker hadn’t even finished closing the door before Sam was flopping onto the couch. “Fuck…” She went to grab a pillow to squeeze before she remembered those were still in a mother fucking box somewhere. “Fuck!”

 

Tucker joined her on the couch and she wasted no time in grabbing him, leaning back against the arm of the sofa and taking him with her, splayed out across her chest and slotted nicely between her legs. Effectively cuddled. 

 

He easily fell into his role as a body pillow, as he always did. He took his glasses off and placed them on the floor beside them before he gently snuggled up against her, wrapping an arm around her side. “I’m sorry. There’s really nothing else we can do.” 

 

“Goddammit-!” Sam squeezed him closer. “There has to be something, right? That whole thing was bullshit and you know it! Fucking ghosts!? As if!”

 

“We’ll keep an ear out okay? We clearly don’t have the whole picture yet, and we really shouldn’t get involved. You know all we’re gonna do is piss someone off.”

 

Sam crossed her arms over Tucker’s body. “Stop being sensible. It’s not fair.”

 

A small laugh bubbled up from his chest as he buried his face against Sam’s collar. “Hey, why don’t we put on a movie, okay? We can hang on the couch for a bit, have some food, and just relax tonight.”

 

Sam sighed, rolling her eyes. “Weren’t we gonna unpack?”

 

Suddenly, Tucker’s body felt heavier, pressing her into the couch. Willing her to stay down. 

 

“Shhhhh. Howl’s Moving Castle tonight, unpacking tomorrow.”

 

“Oh, I fucking love Howl’s Moving Castle!”

 

“I know.”

 

“Hey…” Sam’s voice dipped low, a quiet whisper. “I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. It’s just that I…” No, wait. Accountability. “I shouldn’t have expected you to do all the hard work alone. It’s fine if it takes a bit longer because we wait for chances to do it together.”

 

Tucker placed a kiss on her shoulder. “I said I would get started while you were out today. The least I could’ve done was open the boxes and move them to the right rooms.”

 

Her arms tightened around the boy nestled on her chest. “…I don’t wanna yell at you like that again. It was stupid.”

 

Tucker poked his head up, making sure to hold her gaze. “You’re stubborn… but you’re not unreasonable. Don’t let our weirdo upstairs neighbors get in your head. If you see that it’s a problem, and you want to avoid it, and you work towards a better outcome, you’ll be fine. I’m not gonna let you throw things at me. You’re better than that.”

 

She scratched gently at his nape as he lowered himself back onto her body. “Thanks, Tucker. …I love you.”

 

He squeezed her back. “I love you too.”

 

 

---

 

 

Tucker yawned loudly as they trudged through the streets of the town. “Did we have to leave so early?”

 

Sam fondly rolled her eyes, knowing this was an argument she would win. “You’re the one who said he wanted to go out today.”

 

“Yeah, but maybe at like… noon?”

 

“But we wouldn’t be home in time to unpack.”

 

Tucker took his glasses off and scrubbed a hand over his face. 

 

In his defense, it actually was stupid early, she’d admit. Sam had set her alarm for seven in the morning, which gave them plenty of time to wash up and get dressed so they could hit the streets at eight. They’d both elected for comfy clothes, Tucker in an oversized sweater and joggers, Sam in a long hoodie and loose cargo pants. She did make sure to slap on a smokey eye with some heavy eyeliner, though. It was simple enough to do real quick while Tucker stared at his dresser willing his eyes to stay open. 

 

The plan was to take a walk around town, see what was nearby, see what was open, and find cool places to hang out in their new neighborhood. All because Tucker was trying very hard to procrastinate on the dreadful unpacking situation. When he had suggested it the other night halfway through the movie, Sam saw right through his trick. This was her trick now. A way they could do both.

 

“Hey,” Sam placed a gentle hand on Tucker’s shoulder. “Look, across the street there’s that coffee shop we saw on our drive in.” And Sam wasn’t exaggerating when she said it stole her attention that day. The storefront was a bright green, with purple accents around the windows. The inside had been decorated with all kinds of fairy lights. The place was named ‘Phantom Grounds.’ It was spooky and gothic in the way businesses were when they tried to appeal to all sorts of types but still clearly had an alt streak in them. “Let’s go in and get something, okay?”

 

“Coffee sounds nice,” Tucker yawned.

 

Sam bit back a giggle before grabbing his hand and pulling him across the street. She pushed open the door and led her boyfriend inside. The sweet scent of pastries sat gently on top of the deep earthy smell of the coffee, mingling perfectly in the air. It was indeed a café. What Sam wasn’t expecting was the insane hustle and bustle within the café. The chatter rolled over the store in a din of ambient noise, the line was to the door, the three people behind the counter were moving at incredible speeds. 

 

Ew… Maybe this wouldn’t be a good haunt for school work. Sam was honestly a little disappointed at how busy the place was. 

 

“Oh my gosh there are so many options…” Tucker gaped next to her, pointing weakly up at the menu overhead. Chalk… it was all written out in chalk, spanning over the entire goddamn counter. Live music on Saturday, probably a local band Sam had never heard of. Three new seasonal drinks with hand crafted ingredients from their kitchen. A new pastry they had gotten from a local bakery. And a list of coffees and teas, all blends of their own making.

 

Oh… it wasn’t popular because it was another gross ass Starbucks. It was popular because it had morals. Her eyes caught on a little certification badge in the corner of a display, “Fuck me… Tucker, it’s all fair trade.” 

 

“That’s why a cappuccino is five dollars.”

 

Suddenly, they were at the register. Sam blinked a little dumbly as they stepped up in line, it felt like it had moved way too fast, but maybe she was just that stuck in her head. 

 

“‘Morning,” the man behind the counter greeted. “Do you know what you’d like to order?” He was big, with dope fucking tattoos that looked like overlapping metal plates. 

 

“I love your ink.” Sam said, “It's giving cyborg.”

 

The man smirked, pleased and proud. “I got it done at FreakShow. It’s a piercing and tattoo place a few blocks down. Lydia did it, she’s a beast with that pen. Apologies, what did you say you wanted?”

 

“Oh! I um…” Crap, she still hadn’t fucking looked.

 

A gentle hand settled on the small of her back as Tucker took a step forward, buying her more time. “What’s up with the Blueberry Cream Cold Brew?”

 

“It’s going to be our average cold brew, with our homemade cold foam on top. If you like blueberries, and you like coffee, then you’ll like this. It becomes its own creamer. It’s pretty good.”

 

“If coffee’s not your thing, try it on the iced tea!”

 

Sam looked over towards the voice. Behind the espresso machine there was a girl, probably around Sam’s age, so early twenties. She had bright blue hair, incredibly pale skin, and gorgeous eyeliner. She smiled coolly at them as the steam wand screamed beneath her. 

 

“It works really well on the Earl Grey.”

 

Tucker looked back to the man behind the register. “Can I try that then? The blueberries on the iced tea?” 

 

“Sure thing! Anything else for you?” He asked, turning to Sam.

 

“Can I have… the chai latte?”

 

“Have you had our chai?” He asked gently.

 

“Um… no?”

 

He smiled kindly, “It’s not sweet. We make our chai in our kitchen. It has a lot of ginger and black pepper, so it’s a lot more spicy than people expect.”

 

“Cool!” Sam beamed. “You guys make that yourselves too?”

 

“We do!” He tapped a few buttons on his screen. “We ask if people have had it because too many times we get complaints that it’s too spicy. So now it comes with its own warning so that it doesn’t end up in the hands of the wrong whelps. Is regular milk okay in that?”

 

“Oh, um, do you guys have an alternative?”

 

“Is oat milk okay?”

 

She nodded.

 

“Perfect.” Tucker tapped his card against the terminal before she had even realized the screen had lit up. Fucking jerk. He paid last time.

 

“You’re both all set. Ember will have your drinks out over on the side when they’re all ready for you. Lids, sugars, and straws are at the condiment counter on the other side of that wall. Enjoy! Next in line!”

 

They stepped off to the side and Sam rounded on her boyfriend. “Tea? You like coffee though.”

 

He laughed a little nervously, cheeks heating up. “It sounded good! I wanna try everything on the menu okay? And this is seasonal, so I figured I’d start there!”

 

“You’re hiding some-”

 

“This is your blueberry cream iced tea.” The girl set the drink down on the little counter. “The chai’s almost done heating up, it’ll be out soon!”

 

“Thanks!” Tucker stepped forward, reaching for his drink. “Damn that was fast!”

 

“Excuse me-” a voice came from the side. 

 

Sam easily maneuvered a step over to give space to whoever was coming up behind her, but Tucker must not have heard the voice. He fully took a step back. Directly into the poor worker who was coming by with a bus tub full of dishes.

 

Glass and ceramic clinked together in a dangerously noisy clatter. “Shit! I’m sorry!” Tucker rounded on the worker, reaching out to steady them. “Oh- hey!”

 

Sam followed Tucker’s gaze, looking back towards the- “Hey!!” She smiled gently at her neighbor, their black hair framed their features incredibly starkly in the light.

 

Danny stood up a little straighter, readjusting their hold on the bus tub. “Hey,” they said a bit breathlessly. “Sorry, I hadn’t meant to run into you-”

 

“Entirely my fault, dude!” Tucker apologized with a small wave while the employee scuttled off behind the counter. 

 

Sam watched their movements like a hawk, scanning their neighbor for injuries of any sort. She knew something was going on in that apartment. 

 

“This is your chai! Careful, it’s a little full-”

 

Sam turned her attention to the barista. “Thank you!”

 

“No problem!” The girl waved them off as she immediately started up the next drink. 

 

Sam looked past the coffee machine, peering into the back looking for Danny. A gentle hand rested on her shoulder as Tucker slowly pulled her away. Drinks in hand and lids procured, they headed outside again, into the crisp autumn air. 

 

“What are the fucking odds!? The first place we go to, and they’re working there!”

 

Tucker nodded, picking a direction and walking. “Gonna be honest… I wasn’t expecting to see them outside of the apartment building at all.”

 

Sam easily fell into step with him, noting they weren’t going back towards their apartment. They were walking further away from it. “Do you know where you’re going?”

 

“Not really,” he admitted. “I just figured we could find more cool places. It’s only nine thirty. Let’s go back home around noon?” 

 

Her shoulders relaxed. “That… um… it sounds nice.” 

 

Tucker looked over at her, taking a sip of his iced tea. “You thought I was trying to procrastinate.”

 

“What?” She laughed purposefully. “You? Procrastinating!? Why would you ever think that I would ever think such a thought as well thought as that!?”

 

Tucker burst into giggles “I’m sorry what did you just say at me?”

 

“You’re a master procrastinator, Tucker!” 

 

He grinned brightly, “So?”

 

She playfully punched his arm. “So I’m not supposed to think this whole thing is some kind of ruse to get out of unpacking?”

 

“Fair enough,” he shyly scratched the back of his neck. “Look… I want to unpack. Together. I want to watch you fill up a bookshelf with all your little crystals, I want to watch you struggle to shove all your accessories into a box in the closet, I want to argue over where my monitor goes.” He laced their fingers together. “I know you’re diving right into all the school stuff. I know we signed everything way later than what you wanted. I know we didn’t leave ourselves nearly enough time to settle in. But… At least with all the big boxes, and the big decisions… I wanna make them with you. I’ll unpack all the plates, and I’ll put together the furniture and stuff while you’re gone. But yesterday I was being a little selfish about it. I put all my clothes in the dresser and you weren’t there rolling your eyes at all the sweaters, and… the motivation just… left my body.”

 

Sam squeezed his hand, heart fluttering when he squeezed back. “That’s sappy as shit. I’m… gonna awkwardly go ‘hey look a store,’ and drag you over to a store, okay?”

 

Tucker laughed gently before placing a small kiss on Sam’s cheek. “Don’t worry, Nightshade. I hear you loud and clear.”

 

Sam fought back a blush and wildly looked around for any kind of distraction. They took a few more steps before she reached out an arm, pushing against Tucker’s chest and bringing him to a stop. “I know I said I was gonna do a bit, and that I was gonna drag you into a random store. But Tucker-”

 

“Sam.”

 

She stared into the distance, eyes locked on the sign. “There’s a thrift shop.”

 

She felt him choke back a laugh “Where?”

 

“Second Hand Stitches- about… five doors down and across the street.”

 

“That’s either a really good name for a thrift store, or a really screwed up name for a hospital.” His eyes scanned the horizon for a moment. “Target sighted.” 

 

Sam took a deep breath. She felt Tucker do the same. “Ready?”

 

“Not really.”

 

She smirked, keeping her gaze on the store. A quick scan showed there were no cars coming from either direction. “Street’s clear.”

 

“Affirmative,” He nodded.

 

“One…”

 

“Tw-”

 

“THREE GO!”

 

“GODDAMNIT SAM!!”

 

She took off sprinting towards the store, laughing while she heard Tucker scream out curses. She loved days like this. Chai tea in hand and boyfriend spluttering behind her, she happily crossed the threshold to the store, knowing that Tucker would morosely be paying for her finds today. He never outran her.

 

She took a big sip of her tea whilst looking down at her wrist. Tucker huffed as he walked through the door, drink thoroughly mixed in its cup, pout plastered across his face. 

 

“You’re not even wearing a watch-” he panted. 

 

“Dude, this tea is so good?” She placed a snarky smooch on his nose before finally looking around at the store. “They said it was gonna be spicy, but it’s just… ginger. It’s a lot of ginger. This is how chai is supposed to taste anyway. I’m sorry people have given them such a hard time.”

 

“Can I try?”

 

“Yeah, let me have your tea?”

 

“Here…” they swapped cups for a moment, taking a sip of the other’s drink before switching back. “Oh wow, yeah. That’s a lot of ginger.”

 

“Oh I can taste the blueberries in yours. Mm. That pairs really well with the tea. It’s… floral? She said it was Earl Grey right? I don’t know. It’s been a while since my mom’s made me sit in on one of her lunches.” Sam washed it down with another gulp of her chai. 

 

The two of them meandered through the store, feeling the different fabrics, looking at different patterns, collecting different accessories, comparing prices, colors, textures, and outfit ideas. Sam kept an eye on Tucker, the pants he looked at, the boots he eyed a bit too long, the shirts his fingers lingered over. 

 

One skirt, two belts, and a hoodie later, Sam was placing her clothes at the register, watching Tucker load up his own two sweaters, three henley shirts, and a striped polo. Before he finished fishing out his wallet, Sam scanned her card and happily tucked the clothes away in her emergency tote bag she had stashed in her backpack. 

 

Tucker blinked dumbly at her as she waved goodbye to the nice teen behind the register and headed out the door. 

 

She took the last sip of her chai tea, wandering towards the nearest trash can to throw out her cup. “It was a small business with fair trade coffee. Do you think if I brought my own cup they’d put it in that?”

 

“I don’t see why not,” Tucker shrugged, finishing off his drink and tossing it as well. He slid his hand down Sam’s arm, carefully interlocking their fingers and squeezing gently. 

 

She squeezed back as she pulled her phone from her pocket. “Time check, it’s a little after ten fifteen. How are we feeling?”

 

Tucker tilted his head to gesture further up the street. “I’m feeling like there’s an ice cream place at the end of this block and we should definitely go.”

 

“For fucking real?”

 

“For fucking real.”

 

Sam grinned, “After all the bullshit with your procrastinating, the god awful move itself, and fuck ass school nonsense, you managed to somehow pick the best fucking apartment in the whole damn town. Coffee, thrift shop, and ice cream? All in a walkable distance!? How the fuck did you manage that.”

 

“You already know!” Tucker led her along, smile brightening the whole damn block. “This guy is just Too Fine.”

 

 

---

 

 

“Co… the fuck o… …nton… talked ab… already!”

 

“…sorry Das… just …larm-”

 

Tucker groaned quietly as he rolled over, willing sleep to take him again, hoping against all odds he could just fall back under the spell of a dream. 

 

“Som… us are tryin… sleep!”

 

Please.

 

“Sor… I tried… off fast…”

 

Please-

 

“…quit fuc… alarms …four …goddamn morning!”

 

His heart stuttered in his chest. He pulled the blankets tighter around himself. 

 

“It’s f… work! I tol… last nigh-”

 

“The fuck you did!!”

 

“Ah! Yo… hur… me- …ease-”

 

His fingers tightened around the fabric of his pillowcase.

 

“Didn’t… to bother… …st night.”

 

“I told yo… …aking up ea… …rk- …could’ve just… back to y… own room!”

 

“Someon… …lways fuc… cries when …eave so which is it?”

 

Please…

 

“That’s what… …cking thought.”

 

The ceiling creaked with the weight of his neighbor. 

 

Four in the morning. 

 

…

 

…That’s just unfair.

 

 

---

 

 

 

Notes:

CW: Implied Domestic Violence, Moving, Awkward First Impressions, Cuddling, Making Bets You Cannot Win, Incredibly Cute Dates

Chapter 2: Under Pressure

Summary:

Sam and Tucker both have a lovely time learning more about the employees at their new favorite coffee shop. And at home, things are heating up on the floor above them.

Notes:

CWs in the end notes

Sam yawned as she pushed open the door to the cool new coffee shop. Well… the coffee shop wasn’t new. She was new to the coffee shop-

 

What the fuck ever- it was early in the morning, she had classes to go to, and she wanted a little pick-me-up to take with her. 

 

The line was much shorter than the first time her and Tucker came in. There were only two people in front of her. As she peeked around the signs and advertisements for the seasonal drinks she found her eyes drawn to the person behind the register. Skin as fricken pale as can be and hair strikingly dark in contrast. Danny. 

 

Similarly to last time, the line moved right along. It didn’t take more than 2 minutes before Sam was face to face with her upstairs neighbor. 

 

“Hey,” they greeted. Their voice was cheery but their shoulders were slouched and their eyes were tired. “Ready to order?”

 

“Yeah. I’d like a chai latte please.”

 

“Have you had the chai before? It’s a bit spicy, lots of ginger and pepper. Is that gonna be okay?”

 

Sam grinned, “I had it last time and it was awesome. But I’d like it with oat milk if that’s cool?”

 

“Yeah, of course! The single is good for the size?” 

 

“Yep! Hey, I had a question.” Sam peered over her shoulder to double check that she was the only person in line.

 

“Shoot.” Danny tapped a few buttons on his register screen.

 

“Do you guys take… like if I were to bring in my own cup from home, is it possible to get my drink in that instead of the paper cups?”

 

“Yeah absolutely! I have a button on here for refills, it actually discounts the drink if you use your own cup.” 

 

“Oh that’s awesome! Thanks!”

 

The man behind the espresso machine leaned over towards the counter, his shoulder length hair was clipped back and his sleeves had been pinned up. “This is your oat chai.” 

 

“Thanks.” Sam happily took it from the counter. “I don’t think I even paid yet…”

 

“Oh! Sorry!” Danny tapped the screen. “That’s on me. I didn’t hit the button.”

 

“No worries dude. Oh!” Sam leaned in slightly, lowering her voice a little. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but Tucker and I weren’t sure. I’m she/her, well, maybe actually a bit of a she/they, Tucker’s he/him. What do you use?”

 

Sam watched in real time as Danny’s face flared with the heat of his blush. “I’m he/him. Uh… thanks for… uh… asking?” 

 

The man behind the espresso machine leaned over towards them again as he casually restocked some of the cups sitting atop the machine. “I’m Johnny, he/they. Between you and me, this place is queer as fuck, you go around asking people their fucking pronouns? You’ll have so many friends before the week’s up. Embers a they/she, Kitty’s still questioning, I’m pretty sure Boxers’ trans but he’s kinda new and I haven’t worked with him much so I haven’t confirmed it yet. Shadow’s enby… Sorry, I interrupted-”

 

Danny chuckled. “You’re good, man. But yeah, there are lots of us hiding around.” He yawned, covering his face with his hand. “Sorry-”

 

“You’re totally fine,” Sam yawned in response. “See? Me too… I have a class at seven thirty, so I’ve been up since six.”

 

“Yikes,” he winced. “We open to the public at six thirty, but our shifts start at six.”

 

“Ick. I’m sorry for your loss. So you’ve been up since five?”

 

“Four, actually.”

 

“Four!? In the morning?!”

 

Danny laughed, shoulders curling forward. “Yeah… I have a whole… routine, I guess. For like, breakfast and lunch and stuff? Yeah.”

 

“Four AM. That’s just not fair-”

 

“Don’t be late for your class.” Danny looked around her at the older couple who had just walked in. “Enjoy your drink, okay?”

 

“Yeah, see ya!”

 

 

---

 

 

A light rain pattered along the ground, dripping from the awnings lining the street, splashing from the gutters on the buildings. Tucker hiked his bag further up on his shoulder as he walked along the sidewalk, umbrella held carefully in the other hand. 

 

Sam was out for yet another day of classes and Tucker couldn’t stay home surrounded by half unpacked boxes for a fourth day in a row. Working from home was nice and all, but some days he struggled to stay focused. Today was one of those days. He had paced the apartment until he couldn’t take it anymore, and then finally decided to get the heck out of there.

 

He stepped under the small awning for the coffee shop, shaking off his umbrella and folding it up before heading inside. He immediately groaned at the line. The din of chatter echoed around the room as the employees were running around behind the counter. It was just a random ass Thursday… Why were there so many people?

 

He had honestly been hoping to see the cute goth girl again. She had reminded him so much of Sam, it made his heart flutter. 

 

No. Stop.

 

His shoulders relaxed when a glance around gave no hint of fiery blue hair. How someone’s hair could be dyed blue and be fiery he wasn’t entirely sure, but that barista pulled it off amazingly. It reminded him of the time in high school when Sam dyed her hair purple. Deep, mysterious, and ethereal. He remembered her complaining about the gradient, how she struggled to separate her hair to do the ombré effect, how she hated the way it came out. How it was the most beautiful she had ever looked face timing him with the dye in, so excited to have found a vegan brand. So excited to have talked her grandmother into helping. 

 

“Excuse me!” The woman behind the counter waved him over. “Are you all ready to order?”

 

She seemed a lot older than the usual demographic of employees. Her red hair was styled neatly in an updo and she stood just as proudly behind the register. 

 

“Hey,” Tucker greeted as he made his way over.

 

“Are you ready to order?” She repeated, customer service voice strong and grating. 

 

“Yeah! Ummm,” he glanced up at the menu boards above her head. Crap- “Could I-“

 

“If you’re not sure yet, I can take the people behind you.”

 

Tucker tilted his head at her. He had paused for like- two seconds max. “Um, can I get a mocha please? A doub-”

 

“Single or double?” She interrupted. 

 

“…A double,” he repeated. “Please.”

 

“Whipped cream on that?”

 

“Yes please.” 

 

She tapped a few buttons on the screen then pushed the card reader towards him. “Tap here when you’re ready, the drink will be out on the end, thanks!” 

 

“Th-”

 

She turned away from him sharply, glancing off behind the espresso machine. “Double mocha with whip to go!” 

 

Tucker winced at her volume. Her entire being was condescending and weirdly pressuring. 

 

“Danny. Double mocha with whip to go?”

 

“Double mocha with whip to go! Sorry!”

 

Tucker's ears perked up as he tapped his card against the screen. Sure enough, a quick peek behind the machine revealed pitch black hair. 

 

He moved off to the side to wait for his drink, and that’s when he realized the issue. It wasn’t busy-

 

Well… actually… he wasn’t really a regular yet, he had no idea how busy the place was.

 

The problem though, was that there was a crowd of people waiting for their drinks. It didn’t take more than thirty seconds before that grating, shrill voice called out another drink. And anyone would know that it took more than thirty seconds to actually make the drinks.

 

A little more investigation led to a computer screen off to the side of the espresso machine and if Tucker casually leaned up against the wall just so, he could get a glimpse of it in the mirror behind all the flavored syrups. And that screen… was full.  

 

Another employee came out from the back room, carrying pitchers of different drinks and liquids. Oh was that matcha? He didn’t know they had matcha. 

 

“Spectra, do you want a backbar?” She sounded a little exasperated, looking between what Tucker assumed was Danny and his screen full of drink tickets. 

 

The woman with the bad vibes pulled away from the register, looking around at the line, the people waiting for drinks, the screen full of orders, Danny. “Yeah you might as well wash up and hop on. The newer coffee makers are useless with the lines.”

 

“I have a hot matcha to stay, and a green iced tea to go!” Danny placed a few cups down on the little end table. Tucker could see the flush on his cheeks, the desperation in his eyes.

 

The other girl came back, flannel sleeves rolled up now, drying her hands on a paper towel. “I’m on your backbar.”

 

“Thanks Kitty…” 

 

“I can take the next order!”

 

There was a cappuccino, foam spilling over the sides of a cup. 

 

A cortado, made with oat milk instead of whole that the customer had given back to be remade. 

 

An iced latte that was meant to be in a glass to stay that was accidentally in a plastic cup and had to be transferred over. 

 

There were two cold brews that came out fine. 

 

An iced chai that had Tucker making a mental note to bring something back home to Sam. 

 

A hot chocolate given to a parent who then gave it to their kid, who then dropped it, and it had to be remade again. 

 

Finally, there was a mocha. There was no whipped cream on the mocha, though. 

 

Tucker looked around at the crowd of people. Nobody else was approaching the mocha. Gosh the last thing he wanted right now was to be a problem. He bit his lip as he walked up to the drink. “Sorry, can I ask you guys something?”

 

Danny barely spared him a glance, understandably so. Now that Tucker was close up, he could see the absolute mess behind the counter. Yikes-

 

“What’s up?” The cute girl asked. Her shaggy hair was falling out of its braid, framing her face in wisps of faded green dye. He could see the coffee stains splattered across her apron. 

 

“I just wanted to double check I’m not taking someone else’s drink. This is a double mocha, I asked for one with whipped cream, and I-”

 

“Fuck- my bad-” Danny breathed, knocking over a little metal pitcher, splattering espresso across his work station.

 

The other barista put a hand on his shoulder while she grabbed the whipped cream in the other hand, shaking it up a little. “Relax. I told you, you’re not gonna be any good if you don’t stop shaking, Fenton. Here,” she reached out to top off his drink with the whipped cream. 

 

“Thanks.” Tucker turned his attention back to Danny. “Keep it up dude!! You’ve got this!” 

 

“Danny! Triple iced cap to stay! You need to pay attention!”

 

“Triple iced cap to stay!!”

 

Tucker winced, quickly retreating to the back corner of the cafe with his drink. He hoped he hadn’t caused any problems. He really really hoped he hadn’t caused any problems. 

 

He had only just started unpacking his bag when a glass shattered on the floor. 

 

Unfair. 

 

It wasn’t even Danny’s fault. It looked like some customer had knocked over someone else’s glass trying to put a lid on her own takeout cup. If anything the other barista girl was closer to the spill than Danny was. Tucker couldn’t hear the conversation from where he was sitting, but he saw Danny take a step back. Saw the other barista step up in his place and take over. Saw his neighbor’s shoulders heave with a sigh before Danny was rushing away, only to come back with a broom. 

 

The atmosphere was uncomfortable. Anybody that had been in the cafe for the last ten minutes kinda saw what was happening. Mistake. After mistake. After mistake. 

 

After the broom came the mop, which apparently was in the little storage side room next to Tucker’s seat. That was uncomfortable as shit… To watch out of the corner of his eye, pretending to be immersed in his laptop's lockscreen, while Danny walked back and forth across the cafe. And after all the cleanup was said and done, suddenly the lady behind the register was leaving her post to the dude with the cyborg tattoos he and Sam met on their first visit. 

 

Danny was in the room next to Tucker, he could hear the water running, probably cleaning off the mop, right?

 

The door opened and swung shut behind the lady and Tucker wished for nothing more than his seat to swallow him whole, for his ears to lose their functionality, for anything else to be happening right now.

 

“Danny, I need to talk to you about your hour on coffee. Well… your forty minutes on coffee, you didn’t get through the whole hour.”

 

“Right.”

 

Tucker started typing in his password. The guilt was eating him alive.

 

“Look, you’ve been here for a few months now, and there are people coming in after you. You’re like… the veteran now, okay? And it’s important that you act as a role model for the newer people coming in after you. Noct was hired around the same time as you right? And he’s already an incredible coffee maker. Right now, you’re…” a heavy sigh. “Right now you’re moving like a sloth, and we need you to be a cheetah!” 

 

A pause. A long. Uncomfortable pause. 

 

A very weak “Mhmm.”

 

“Does that make sense?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“Great! I just need you to step it up! Really give it everything you got! This job is intense and you’ll have to actually work hard at it if you want to succeed. We’re all a team here, and it’s really important that you learn to pull your weight, because every second that you’re not up to the right standard, someone else has to work that much harder to make up for the gaps you’re leaving. So just, remember that, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Alright! I gotta get back up to the front but think about it! Be a cheetah!”

 

Tucker flinched as the door opened next to him. The woman made her way back to the counter, sliding into the back area of the cafe. 

 

Just one week, universe. 

 

One week where he didn’t overhear something about his upstairs neighbor that he wasn’t meant to know about. 

 

One week where this guy's privacy was honored and respected. 

 

One week where he-

 

A small noise caught his attention. Through the wall. 

 

A small hiccup. 

 

A sniff. 

 

A choked back sob. 

 

Tucker sunk into his seat, reaching for his mocha and taking a big sip, licking up the whipped cream. 

 

He should’ve stayed home.

 

Just one week.

 

 

---

 

 

Sam hadn’t meant to be in the library for so long. The plan was to spend two hours working on one of her essays. But when the research had been compiled and the typing had started, she hit her stride and four and a half hours later, the paper was done. With a whole twenty eight hours left before it was actually due!

 

It wasn’t often she had bigger assignments actively done early. She was curious whether she should revise and edit it, or if she should just hand it in and get it over with. 

 

She shot a text to Tucker, something to let him know she was okay and only just now leaving the library. She stretched her arms above her head and started walking, sending off another text to her boyfriend about how she was kind of walking in the wrong direction. After a session like that? Fuck going home, she was gonna go get ice-cream. This place had a really nice selection of sorbets and she wanted to enjoy them as much as she could before the ‘summer’ season was up. 

 

She looked around at the other businesses lining the town’s main street, glancing in the windows and checking out the stores from the outside. There were plenty of small restaurants, she should plan a cute little date night with Tucker some time. The thing that caught her eye was the green store, with the purple accents, and the fairy lights. She looked down at her phone. It was eight twenty four. She glanced at the sign on the door, and yeah, it was still open. 

 

With a small shrug, Sam slid her phone back into her pocket and ducked into Phantom Grounds. It wasn’t as busy as it was during the typical daytime hours, but that didn’t mean there weren’t plenty of people scattered about the cafe. 

 

The line was short, just one couple already at the register laughing along with the employee behind the counter. It was the alt girl, with the bright blue hair. On the espresso machine was someone Sam hadn’t seen yet, she was also alt, more grunge than the punky blue girl though. Her hair had clearly been dyed green at some point, but it was fading out, and her roots were coming in. She was working diligently, smiling and laughing along with the couple. After the shit show Sam heard about yesterday, she was glad to see the place be chill and friendly again. 

 

The couple got their drinks at the counter and headed off, and Sam stepped up in their place. The girl leaned over towards the other barista, “Cap prep.” 

 

The barista looked over towards Sam then back to whatever task she was working on behind the machine. “You would.”

 

The girl behind the register turned to the goth, eyes brightening. “Hey!” She smiled coolly. “You’re the new oat chai, right?”

 

Sam’s posture relaxed. “I’m gonna switch it up on you, I wanna try it iced tonight.”

 

“Ooh,” the barista wiggled her shoulders as she typed it into the register. “What am I gonna call you if not the Oat Chai to go Goth? I’m gonna have to call you the Sometimes Oat Iced Chai to go Goth.”

 

“I’ll do you one better, you can just call me Sam.”

 

“Sam?” The barista leaned forward against the counter cupping her jaw in her hand. “I’m Ember.”

 

“Ember.” Sam repeated. “That fits. Did you pick it yourself?”

 

“Actually, I got lucky,” Ember straightened up a little. “It was given to me.”

 

“Oh wow! I’m jealous,” she laughed. “One of you guys the other day mentioned that a lot of your barista crew was some kind of queer. Ember’s such a cool name I thought for sure you picked it out.”

 

Ember huffed a small laugh. “You were probably talking to Johnny. Blond hair, scrawny arms, weird stubble, kinda gangly?”

 

“Yes!” Sam nodded excitedly. “Exactly him! I love that you just knew.”  

 

“Careful with those compliments.” The barista with the faded green hair placed the iced chai on the counter. “Ember’s got a big enough ego as it is.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“You said your name was Sam right? I’m Kitty.”

 

“Nice to meet you guys.”

 

“Yeah, you too.” Ember tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So are you new in town? I haven’t really seen you before.”

 

“Yeah! My boyfriend and I just moved into one of the apartments across town.”

 

Kitty hissed, turning away from the conversation to focus on the dishes behind her.

 

Ember’s smile faltered. “Oh,” she laughed, standing back up properly. “What brought you guys out here?”

 

“I’m going to Casper University. I’m in environmental science. I just finished up an essay on invasive species, like, fifteen minutes ago. I still have to proofread it though, but the hard part’s done!”

 

“Fun!” Ember nodded. “Well, I don’t wanna intrude on your night.”

 

“Not at all!” Sam smiled at her, finally picking up her chai from the counter. “Thanks for chatting with me, it was super nice to meet you guys!”

 

“Have a nice night!” She waved, shoulders slumping as Sam rounded the corner.

 

“Noct, can you handle the pastry case for me before we close? Kitty, you’re gonna be on tea preps for now while we have a lull. Let’s get as much of this list done before close. I wanna go out tonight!”

 

“Hell yeah! Drinking!”

 

 

---

 

 

“I just don’t- cause it’s a dialogue, right? We are in a creative writing course! It’s the opposite of essays.” A soft video game track played its harmony across the space of the apartment. “This is supposed to be fun and imaginative. So why is he writing all these stupid ass red squiggles all over my goddamn paper!?” Sam huffed as she ripped the tape off of her next box. 

 

Tucker pulled the rest of the cups out of his box, placing them in the open cupboards. “Does he know what class he’s in?” The sun had long since set, moonlight gently casting the world in its soft, blue glow. “Like- is he in the right spot? Is this just a really bad, really long, incredibly unfortunate case of ‘oops wrong classroom?’”

 

“I don’t know!” Sam stepped away from the bookcase, assessing the empty spaces. She looked down at her box then back up at the shelves. “No seriously, it was so weird. He like- circled someone repeating themselves, complained about my use of the word ‘um’ and shit. It’s literally dialogue. Have you heard people talk before? We’re all actually really bad at fucking talking! It was a total waste of a class…”

 

“I can imagine…” Tucker collected his cardboard boxes, starting to fold them back up now that they were finally empty.

 

“Not only did I have to read that crazy bitch’s entire stupid ass, sexist as fuck poem. But then a different idiot got his hands all over my story and completely missed the fucking point.”

 

Tucker stretched his arms above his head, leaning back as far as his body would let him. It had been a busy day, filled with lots of laughter, teasing, complaining, word games, and unpacking… so much unpacking…

 

But! He was happy as hell to say it was all done. Well… his boxes were all done. Sam was still being a perfectionist about her stuff, but that was okay. 

 

He opened the fridge to see what they had laying around, then had a quick look in the pantry he just reorganized a few hours ago. With a plan in mind, he pulled out their frying pan and set it on the stove before cracking his knuckles. It was time to be the hot boyfriend who knew how to cook real good. 

 

Sam was busy arranging and rearranging the things on their bookshelf when she suddenly gasped in excitement, “Tucker!”

 

“Sam!” He looked over his shoulder at her while he turned on the stove and got out their avocado oil. 

 

“Did I ever tell you about the girl at Phantom Grounds the other night?” 

 

Tucker hummed in response. “You mentioned that you had to tell me, but you didn’t actually get around to telling the story.”

 

“Well, the cool blue haired punk? Her name is Ember. And the grunge girl with the green hair that you mentioned the other day?”

 

“The one with the flannel who was helping out Danny.”

 

“Yes. Her name is Kitty.”

 

Tucker tossed some noodles into this pan, reaching over to grab some of the vegetables they had chopped up earlier in the week. “So have you guys found a new drummer yet?”

 

“Ha ha. You’re hilarious.” 

 

“What? I said what I said. You guys look like an early-two-thousands' emo band, and I’m not wrong.”

 

“Well, I think we would be a great band if we-”

 

There was a loud rumble above them. Furniture being moved across the floor. 

 

“…other fucker!”

 

“…gain, Dash!!?”

 

Sam’s gaze stayed locked on the ceiling. “Tucker-”

 

“On it-!” He scrambled for his phone, pausing the music and silencing their speaker.

 

“You sai… …ould stop!”

 

“Wh-t? Just …ause you’re …riend you think yo- …ontrol me?”

 

“…at? No-”

 

“…not in charge of me! You’re no… …irl you don’t …aggy, whiney, little bitch!”

 

A heavy thud shook the curtain of fairy lights Sam had just hung up half an hour ago. Tucker flinched at the noise. Like someone had been shoved to the floor.

 

“Da- …’m sorry-!”

 

A sharp cry pierced through the building, maybe it’s just that the voice happened to be right above him, but Tucker’s heart ached. 

 

“…on’t fucking care what …say. …riends are com… …not gonna …ou get in the fucking way tonight! Got it!?”

 

Heavy footsteps stormed across the floor, there was a beat of quiet, and then another loud thud. No… not a thud. A slam. That was a door. 

 

The loud footsteps lumbered back across the apartment for a moment until there was a creak and a groan, and then… Nothing. 

 

Tucker clutched his phone tightly in his hands. A voice in the back of his mind nudged him. The stove was on. The stir fry could burn. 

 

But he was frozen in place. 

 

Staring blankly at the silent speaker. 

 

Holy shit…

 

“We have to do something…” Sam murmured, still glaring up at the ceiling. “This isn’t safe.”

 

Tucker broke from his spell, pocketing his phone and quickly turning his attention back to making dinner. 

 

Sam wasn’t an idiot though. She turned towards him. “This isn’t safe,” she repeated, like the issue was that he hadn’t heard her somehow. 

 

“We don’t know what’s happening Sam. We have suspicions, but we don’t have proof. We don’t know anything. We can’t do anything.”

 

“But he could-”

 

“Sam!” Tucker rounded on her. “This isn’t our business to get involved in. Okay? We’re not supposed to be hearing this. It’s honestly a huge invasion of privacy that we can in the first place. We introduced ourselves, we said hello. That’s all we can do. Just be nice, and stay out of it.” 

 

Sam stayed quiet, though it wasn’t a peaceful quiet. It was cold. Resentful. She looked away from him pointedly. 

 

Tucker swallowed and turned back to the stir-fry. He took a quiet, deep breath. There was nothing left to do.

 

 

---

 

 

 

Notes:

Cw: Implied Violence, Emotional Abuse in the Workplace, Waking Up Too Early, Flirting on the Job, Moral Dilemmas

Chapter 3: FIghting for Normalcy

Summary:

It’s time to level up their friendship with Danny. While Sam struggles a bit to say the right words, Tucker knows just how to go from ‘regular customer’ to ‘tentative friend’ with a well placed game of Doomed.

Notes:

CWs at the end

Sam bit back a yawn as she made her way through the apartment building. She really shouldn’t have believed in her ability to be a quote unquote: good student. The whole ‘class first thing in the morning’ thing was already wearing on her and she was only three weeks in. 

 

It was on her walk from the back door of the building to the sidewalk that she noticed a thing on one of the benches lining the path. At first she wasn’t sure what it was, the sky was dim, the blob was black and red, and that’s all she had going for her. Upon closer inspection she realized this thing was actually a whole ass human.

 

She only took a few more steps towards the bench before the person’s eyes snapped open. They pushed themselves up on their elbows, their hood going askew in the process. 

 

“Holy shit,” Sam breathed when she saw the tuft of dark hair poking out of the hoodie. “Danny?”

 

“Sam!” His voice cracked, a little raspy. 

 

“What the hell are you doing sleeping out here?”

 

“It was an accident.” He pushed himself into a proper sitting position, yawning loudly. “I was… um… I was stargazing last night, and I must’ve fallen asleep.”

 

Sam glared at him for a moment. “Stargazing.”

 

“Yep. Stargazing.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, stretching his other arm above his head. “Cygnus is out this time of year. It’s a swan.” 

 

She nodded in response, tracking his movements with her gaze. It was only then that she noticed his hoodie was filthy, actually. Coffee stains marred the edges of his sleeves, with other various streaks of green matcha and dried, crystallized syrups traveling further up his arms. It looked like he had spilled hot chocolate across his side as well. The substances had all crusted onto the fabric, painting the dusky red in various shades of brown. “Your…” her comment died in her throat as he looked up at her. 

 

Black rings hung heavily under his eyes. Sam knew she was staring but didn’t have it in her to look away. 

 

He blinked. “What?”

 

Her chest felt tight. The little Tucker that lived rent free in her mind was telling her to mind her own business. The image was fuzzy in her head, of him huddled in the corner of the nurse’s office. She had been young. And dumb. Far too forward far too quickly. 

 

Invasive.

 

She glanced down at her phone, checking the time, then back at Danny. “You like astrology?” She moved to sit down on the bench next to him.

 

His eyes widened a bit as he made room for Sam. Up close his gaze was striking; eyes an icy blue. “Um. Yeah! I’ve been kinda obsessed with space stuff since I was a kid. My mom and I used to… it seems a little silly, but we used to camp in the backyard together. She didn’t really know much about the stars, but I did enough research for both of us.”

 

“Aw, that’s cute,” Sam smiled. “A nice little bonding activity.”

 

“Yeah, she was really sweet when my sister and I were younger, despite how busy she was.”

 

“I don’t know a whole fuck ton about stars and whatnot, but I’m a big zodiac bitch. I bought this book about the phases of the moon and how it influences different energies and chakras. I haven’t actually taken the time to read it yet, though. I really should.” 

 

“Oh cool! That seems fun!” Danny smiled at her, seeming genuinely interested in her zodiac talk. “If you ever do read that book, I’d love to hear about the moon energy magic stuff.”

 

“Actually?” Sam perked up. “Usually when I bring up stuff like that, it’s less likely that someone’s actively into it and more likely that people think I’m just fucking nuts.”

 

“I don’t think it’s weird at all. It doesn’t have to be my favorite subject in the world just to agree that it’s interesting and I’d like to know more.” He smiled before turning away with another yawn. 

 

The responding yawn that crept up on her pulled her from the comfortable conversation. She glanced down at her phone again and sighed. “Well, thanks for not thinking I’m crazy.”

 

He huffed a small laugh, “Don’t worry, you’re definitely not the crazy one here.”

 

“I do have to get going if I wanna make it to class on time, though.”

 

“Oh! Sorry! I didn’t mean to hold you up!”

 

Sam blinked at him. “I literally sat down next to you uninvited. I don’t know if you were there for that?”

 

A gentle blush rose on his cheeks. “Shut up. I was trying to… I don’t know… be nice, I guess.”

 

Sam chuckled at his weak defense, reaching out to gently punch his arm as she started to stand up. She had forgotten he’d been outside all night, he was freezing to the touch. “Then stop trying to be nice. I’m in control of my own actions.”

 

She hiked her backpack back up on her shoulder as Danny sat up straighter on the bench, squeezing his eyes shut as he stretched his arms high above his head. “Yeah yeah, be late to your class, then.”

 

She glared at the ground for a moment while Danny rubbed at his eyes. She tugged at the edge of her backpack strap awkwardly as he began to blink up at her. He tilted his head curiously when she continued to stand there. 

 

C’mon- it’s time to move…

 

“Danny-” She only took one step before she was turning back around. Fuck. Fuck. 

 

“What’s up?” He responded cautiously, having seen her hesitate.

 

“You’re… um…” Sam huffed out a sigh. “The laundry room has little benches. It’s not the most private, but neither is the literal outdoors. If you’re… when… It’s gonna start getting colder. If you stay in the laundry room then at least it’ll be warm. Okay?” She didn’t wait for an answer, spinning on her heel and speed walking towards the main street.

 

She rubbed the side of her temple in awkward embarrassment, willing her brain to forget that entire conversation just happened. She could’ve talked about crystals, candles, constellations- literally anything else!  

 

Way to go, Manson…

 

 

---

 

 

“Coming behind you, hot liquid!”

 

“Iced vanilla latte to go!”

 

“Iced vanilla latte to- ugh! Joe down!!”

 

“Joe down.”

 

“Is there another one brewing back there?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I can get who’s next down at this register!”

 

“Noct, can I give this to you?”

 

“How much time on the Joe?”

 

“Yeah, I’ll take it.”

 

“A minute fourteen until the Joseph is done brewing.”

 

“Thanks Ember!”

 

“Anytime!”

 

“Can I get a Nola from the back!?”

 

“Nola from the back!”

 

Tucker breathed in the fresh scent of coffee as the cacophony of the cafe swelled around him. Those little weirdos behind the counter knew all the words they were saying to each other. It sounded fricken insane to him as an outsider, but somehow someway, those humans were up to that weird communication thing that they do. 

 

Fascinating.

 

“I can help who’s next down at this register!”

 

Tucker’s grin widened when he caught sight of Danny waving from the other side of the pastry case. 

 

“Hey dude!”

 

“Yo! Uh, Tucker, right?”

 

“Tucker Too Fine Foley, at your service!”

 

Danny choked out a surprised laugh. “That’s like a really bad name for a YouTuber or something.”

 

“No!! Don’t say that about my streamer handle.”

 

“Ancients, you don’t actually use that!?” He laughed.

 

Laughed!

 

“But TF stands for Too Fine!”

 

“Okay Mr. Fine,” Danny took a second to clear his throat and stand up straighter. Back to business. “What can I get for you today?” 

 

“I wanted to try the matcha this time.”

 

“It’s pretty good, Kitty drinks it religiously. She likes to add extra vanilla to it, though. We make it in our kitchen. It’s got a bit of vanilla already mixed in, but they like it sweeter. I don’t really know what I’m trying to convey with that but, yeah. The long and short of it is: we can do that for you. Hot or iced?”

 

“Dude,” Tucker smiled at the rambling barista behind the counter. “Iced is good.”

 

“Iced, got it,” his voice pitched up, embarrassed. “For here or to go?”

 

“For here, I’m gonna see if I can find a table next to an outlet and get some work done.” Tucker pulled out his wallet from his pocket. 

 

“Got it. Iced matcha to stay!”

 

“Iced matcha to stay, it’s coming right out, Dan.”

 

“‘Kay!” He turned back to Tucker, though his gaze was on the terminal screen. “Johnny’s gonna have it out in just a second so don’t go anywhere just yet.”

 

“Hey, real quick, I just wanted to let you know, Sam told me about yesterday morning.” Tucker pushed up his glasses, Danny’s shoulders tensed. “She’s been beating herself up about it. I just wanted to clear up that she didn’t mean anything rude by it.”

 

“Um… it’s fine-”

 

“Here’s that iced matcha for you.” A kinda gangly blond slid his drink across the counter.

 

“Thanks!” Tucker smiled at him before turning back to Danny. “Look, what she meant to say was-”

 

“Dude!” Danny held his hand up, over the terminal, bringing Tucker to a pause. His eyes were wide, his posture was tense. “You’re staying right? I’ll have a break coming up within the hour. We can talk then?”

 

It was Tucker’s turn to feel the burning shame of embarrassment. “Oh my gosh, yeah! I’m sorry, man!”

 

“It’s chill, I’ll talk later.”

 

“No! You don’t have to!” Tucker took a step back from the counter. “You’re at work man, that was… I’m sorry. You don’t have to. Catch ya later!”

 

The various voices around the cafe were drowned out by the roaring of his heartbeat in his ears. Tucker found himself a seat with an outlet and quickly pulled out his laptop. These spreadsheets were not going to sort themselves and he had to get them emailed back to his boss by the end of the day. 

 

Crap, why did he say that?

 

He took a sip of his matcha, willed his body to relax, and settled into his seat. He wanted nothing more than to flee the building, but he hadn’t been focusing in the apartment and now his drink was in a glass and it’d be silly to get a to-go cup so soon after sitting down. He might as well be stuck here until his work was done. He couldn’t fricken concentrate with Danny’s voice calling out orders though. His bluetooth headphones were dead, but maybe they’d at least block some of the noise. 

 

He took a deep breath and opened up his email, then the files. He had a lot of work to do.

 

Between coding hell, spreadsheet sorting, and the headphones actually dampening the sounds around him, he wasn’t prepared for the gentle tap on his shoulder. He pulled off his headphones and looked up to find a certain barista smiling shyly towards him. “Danny?”

 

“Can I sit here?”

 

“Sure man!” Tucker hastily moved his things to the floor, making room on the seat next to him. 

 

“Thanks.” He looked down at his phone real quick before settling into the seat, hands awkwardly holding his own cup. 

 

“What did you get?” Tucker asked stiffly, nodding to the cup. 

 

“Oh it’s… kinda off the menu, it’s a peppermint fog. Like a london fog but with peppermint tea instead of earl grey.”

 

“Oooh, off the menu? Sounds fun.” 

 

Danny smiled gently at him before letting out a small sigh. “Sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to be snappy-”

 

“Dude, please don’t apologize. I was so far out of line. I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean, I wasn’t thinking.” He scratched his neck. “You’re at work, and you’re being paid and watched and you have to be accommodating and nice to me, I’m a customer. That was so irresponsible of me to start that conversation here. I’m sorry.”

 

“I hadn’t even thought of it that way.” Danny breathed. “Holy shit.” He shook his head, tugging his sleeves up to cover his fingers, “I was just really nervous Ember would overhear. If she found out I slept outside again, she’d-” he cut himself off abruptly. “Um-! I…”

 

“If you don’t mind,” Tucker picked up the thread of the conversation, trying to weave it ever so gently. “What I wanted to tell you earlier is that Sam and I have a fold out couch if you ever need a place to stay.”

 

“You guys don’t have to do that!”

 

“We want to, though! She was really worried about scaring you away or being too forward so she apparently told you to… sleep in the laundry room? The details aren’t clear. She has a hard time explaining things she’s embarrassed about,” Tucker grinned. 

 

Danny covered up a laugh with his hand. “Aw she shouldn’t feel bad about it! I was really touched she was worried about me!” 

 

“But yeah, I just wanted to clarify that she didn't mean to tell you to sleep in the laundry room. So. Now you know.” He finished lamely. “She just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier, too.”

 

“Not at all! You guys are totally fine!” Danny smirked. “I’m honestly still so blown away by the fact you guys even care. You’ve only been in town for a few weeks, right? And you’ve both been so kind to me already, it's nuts!” He brushed his hair out of his face and Tucker saw the coffee stains lining the underside of his sleeve. “I’m genuinely really happy that you guys care enough to kinda check in with me. And, seriously, I didn’t even think about the server-customer thing. So thank you for seeing it, and then apologizing for it? It’s been a while since I’ve met someone with so much… accountability.”

 

“Sam and I have learned a lot about that over the years.” Tucker rolled his eyes fondly. “But hey, allow me to start over, not accosting you at your door, not harassing you on the clock, just as equals. Even ground and all that. I’m Tucker Foley.” He held his hand out. 

 

“Danny Fenton,” he shook Tucker’s hand with a big lopsided grin. “You already know I work as a barista here, can I ask what you do?”

 

“Starting this off with a game of twenty questions?”

 

He shrugged, “At least until my break’s over.”

 

“Fair enough.” Tucker gently patted his laptop. “I’m a data entry specialist. I work for an accounting company and my job is to keep track of their clients, payments, bookkeeping, schedules, all that fun stuff. I’m also a Twitch streamer on the side, though I’ve taken a little bit of a break for the move. Question for you: what’s your deal with school? Are you still a student? Or did you graduate already?”

 

Danny scratched his cheek looking away a little nervously. “I dropped out of college, actually.”

 

Tucker nodded. “It’s not for everyone.”

 

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I liked college, though. It was just a whole lot of personal stuff that came up all at once.”

 

“Oh, shit dude, yeah. Life definitely has its moments.” He took a sip of his matcha before continuing, “Have you ever thought of going back?”

 

“I wish, but the money’s not really there.”

 

“Tell me about it! The only reason I’ve been able to actually start paying it off is because Sam’s family’s fricken loaded and she’s been helping me out a lot.” 

 

“Aw that’s sweet. My parents are pretty well off too but… we just don’t see eye to eye anymore. I ended up moving out with my boyfriend and… he needed help, so all of our resources went into that.”

 

Tucker tilted his head a little. “What do you mean? If you don’t mind me asking, of course?”

 

“Oh! Dash- uh-” Danny’s voice squeaked uncomfortably. He cleared his throat and looked away, drawing shapes along the surface of the table. “It wasn’t anything major, he was struggling with an addiction problem so we were looking into rehabs and therapy and stuff.” 

 

“Yikes, that’s rough.”

 

Danny shook his head. “I don’t blame him for it. His dad was an alcoholic, and he was pretty abusive, too.”

 

Tucker sighed heavily, fingers idly rubbing against his glass. He went to respond when-

 

“Oh, shit I’m sorry, we’re not- I shouldn’t be dumping all this on you!”

 

“It’s okay! I don’t mind as long as you’re comfortable with sharing. I mean, I literally asked you about it. If anything I should be apologizing for being so nosy.”

 

Danny smiled weakly, “You kinda remind me of my sister. She’s ridiculously smart, incredibly mature. I haven’t seen her in years, but… you’re the same kind of straightforward.”

 

Tucker laughed awkwardly. “Oh I definitely am not straightforward. It took a lot of learning and growing to be comfortable with things like this. Sam really kinda taught me to be more honest and clear about things because she was getting frustrated with my communication. Because I wasn’t comfortable communicating.”

 

“That’s just life, though,” Danny shrugged. “We make mistakes and we learn and we change, hopefully for the better. If you surround yourself with the right people, you can kinda grow together, supporting each other. It’s something my sister kinda taught me.”

 

“Your sister seems pretty wise, dude.”

 

“She wanted to be a psychologist. She was super into it.”

 

“What happened to her?”

 

Danny blinked at him, “What do you mean?”

 

“Oh,” Tucker shrugged. “You’ve been referring to her in the past tense, so I thought…”

 

“Ohhh, okay. I guess… well, I don’t really know what happened. She had been going to college. Just started, actually. And then she just kinda moved out. I haven’t heard from her since. I don’t know what happened.”

 

“Spooky! Is she okay?”

 

“My parents say she’s fine. They got really cagey and closed off about her for a while, I think maybe she did something that really pissed them off. But when I tried to call her, her number hadn’t worked. I don’t know her address, the school wouldn’t give me any of her personal information, which, I mean, that’s good, they shouldn’t, but… she just went completely no contact. Gosh, I’m sorry I just keep talking-!”

 

“I’m asking you questions!! It’s okay!”

 

Danny shook his head. “I should be trying harder to include you, though! You said you stream, right? What kinda streams are you doing?”

 

Tucker felt heat rise to his cheeks, the typical shame that came with the vulnerability of talking about his hobby. “I’m just a stereotypical gamer. I play some RPGs, some shooters, the usual stuff.”

 

“That sounds like fun!” Danny beamed. “I used to play this tps dungeon crawler with my boyfriend a lot, but we really haven’t taken the time for it lately. It has this really cool sci-fi aesthetic and-”

 

“Oh my gosh! You’ve played Doomed!?”

 

“You know it!?”

 

Tucker’s eyes brightened. “I love it!! Sam and I used to play it together after school!”

 

“I’ve put so many hours into that game! I forced Dash to play it with me when we moved in together.”

 

“Dude, do you still play?”

 

Danny’s smile faltered a little. “Not a whole lot anymore, but I miss it.”

 

“Would you play with me?”

 

“Yes!?” He blurted. 

 

Tucker immediately had his phone out, tapping away at his screen. “Here! Give me your number and we can text whenever you get home!”

 

Danny’s eyes lit up. “You mean today?”

 

“If you’re around, yeah!”

 

“Fuck yes!” Danny’s phone buzzed with a gentle alarm, alerting the two that his break was over. He quickly silenced it and grabbed Tucker’s phone, hastily typing in his number as he distractedly stood up from the table. “I haven’t played in so long!”

 

“It’s gonna be great, man! I can’t wait!”

 

He handed the phone back to Tucker and waved excitedly at him. “I’ve gotta get back behind the counter but text me so I can have your number! I’ll respond when I get home!”

 

Tucker nodded while he looked down at the new contact on his device. “Sending one your way right now!”

 

“Thanks, man!”

 

Tucker sent off his text and looked up to watch Danny slip back behind the counter. Just as quickly as he had come, he was gone, washing his hands and slipping back into his professional customer service role. 

 

It was time he do the same. After all, he wouldn’t be able to play Doomed later if he still had work to do!

 

 

---

 

 

Sam picked up her pace a little as she walked down the street. Her favorite coffee shop would be closing soon and she’d be pissed if she didn’t get her chai after the group work bullshit she just sat through. 

 

She knew that it was important to be able to get along with people. She knew that teamwork was valuable in the real world. But something that college professors seemed to forget amongst all their lecturing, is that real life group work came with a hierarchy. Typically, someone had held a job for five years, someone else had found they were better at paperwork, another person knew they were a good mediator and communicator, and someone else was relatively new or something. 

 

In a college class, nobody really had seniority or more experience to lead, everyone was just as confused as the classmate next to them, but some people had egos bigger than the fucking planet itself. At least from what Tucker’s said, the higher ups with the big egos at least had some extra years backing them up, and not just the unbridled confidence of a privileged only child, with all the stereotypical straight, white, cis, majority traits, who hadn’t faced an ounce of discrimination, accountability, or perspective in their life. 

 

How the fuck was she supposed to create a presentation about how the oppressive classes of capitalism were forcing the hand of poorer families and individuals to continue buying from shit companies who abused people and the environment to turn a pretty profit, while also paired alongside the most spineless girl she had ever met and a goddamn trust fund baby who didn’t understand a damn thing about the class beyond that he needed some extra credits for whatever sport scholarship he was probably on. 

 

She really did try hard not to judge them. Really she did!! But he started talking about how taxes shouldn’t be used to help other countries when their own was apparently suffering so badly already. And when Sam argued that the government actually wasn’t planning on helping any of the homeless or hungry within the borders either, the spineless girl sat back and did absolutely nothing, merely nodding when prompted and appeasing whoever turned to her next. 

 

Useless. The both of them- 

 

Sam took a calming breath before she pushed through the doors of Phantom Grounds. 

 

“-ormies just don’t get it! There is an active difference between your fuck ass chromosomes, the physical body, the hormones themselves, the actual sexuality, attraction, gender identity, presentation, and pronouns! These are all separate entities!” Ember argued from the corner of the counter, wrapping up the leftover pastries from the day. 

 

“Yes! Exactly this!! I’ve been trying to explain this to Dash, but he just- doesn’t get it!” Danny was hidden behind the espresso machine, on his knees, with a little screwdriver, fiddling with something under the machine.

 

“Heads up, Dan, you’ve got people.” Johnny chimed in from his station behind the counter, offloading all the clean dishes from the washing machine.

 

“My bad!” He was on his feet in seconds, face lighting up when he saw her. “Sam!” 

 

“Hey Ghost Boy!” She smirked at him. 

 

“Stop it!” His face tinged pink as he laughed in embarrassment. “I told you I made that account back in high school.”

 

“I’m not making fun of you!” She waved her hand, “I told you yesterday I thought it was cute.”

 

“I didn’t know you played too, Chaos.”

 

“Tucker didn’t tell you!? I was one of the top ranked players worldwide a few years ago. I played nonstop just to prove a point. I don’t even particularly like the game. I liked playing with him but all my extra hours were fueled by pure spite.” She leaned up against the counter. “Though I will admit between you and me. I had a lot of fun playing with you guys last night. Thanks for letting me join you.”

 

“It was my pleasure!”

 

“I love you babypop, but we’ve only got ten minutes before I wanna lock the door.” 

 

“Fair point! My bad-” Danny’s shoulders slumped forward a little while he properly got behind the register.

 

“Sorry! That’s on me,” Sam conceded. “I should’ve been more mindful that you guys are trying to close. 

 

“Don’t worry about it. There’s gonna be at least two more people who come in tonight after you.”

 

“Yikes…”

 

“Hot or iced for your chai?”

 

“Whichever’s faster.”

 

“Iced it is. And you’re with oat milk, right?”

 

“Don’t bother with the milk actually. I’ll deal.”

 

Danny blinked at her. “Sam… you’re paying for the drink. It’s not a problem to make it properly for you.”

 

“I just want the tea. And if I need milk I’ll just add some when I get home. Oh!! Wait! I brought my own tumbler!” She swung her backpack around and fished the cup from the side pocket. “Can you put it in here?”

 

“Sure, hold onto the lid for me, though.” He took the cup from her, eyeing the various stickers plastered along its surface. “I’ll be right back.”

 

A scoop of ice and a quick pour later and he was sliding the cup back to Sam. She placed the lid back on and turned to the payment screen where Danny was typing in all the information. “Did the price go down? In this economy? Was it the milk? Or the cup?”

 

“There’s the discount for the cup. I’m honestly not sure if taking the milk out changed the price? I don’t think it’s programmed to, but what do I know, I just work here. But mainly I put in my employee discount. Though you’re not an employee so I’m not supposed to do that, so don’t tell anyone, mention it later, or ask about it.”

 

“Understood. Thanks, Danny, but you don’t have to do that for me.”

 

“It’s no pr-”

 

“No, listen. For Tucker? Absolutely! He works hard, he’s doing his best. But me? This is my parent’s card, they’ll be fine. Save your rule breaking for the people who deserve it and let me tip the whole twenty five percent.”

 

“Goddamn-” Ember spared her a sideways glance, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She looked a bit flushed. 

 

At the sink, arms elbow deep in the dishes, Johnny burst into laughter, breathy little wheezes of mirth. 

 

“Shut the fuck up, asshole!”

 

“I literally didn’t say a goddamn word.”  

 

“You were thinking it.”

 

Johnny turned back to his dishes, intently scrubbing a glass. “I was only thinking about how it’d be wonderful if you elaborate on that rant you were cooking up about the difference between gender identity and presentation.”

 

“Oh! Yeah wait!” With Sam all taken care of, Danny disappeared back behind the espresso machine reaching for his little screwdriver and going back to work on the underside of the coffee handle thingys. “I was super interested in all your nuances!”

 

Ember’s cheeks tinged red as she slid some of the pastries into the refrigerated display case. “Well… you guys already know this shit. It was just a stupid argument I had with Spectra. The sexuality versus gender thing she gets just fine. It was when we started talking about expression that she couldn’t keep up. She just ‘doesn’t understand why’ I use they them pronouns more often but still… look like this.”

 

“The fuck?” Johnny glanced briefly over his shoulder. 

 

“Did she actually say that!?” Danny stood up, fiddling with more pieces, parts, and espresso things that Sam didn’t know anything about.

 

“She essentially asked why I was so adamant that she should use the right fucking pronouns for Kitty, Noct, and I. Because none of us look nonbinary enough to her, I guess. So I had to explain that just because I like my hair long, and I love doing my makeup, and I have an interest in alt fashion, and I dress like a slut for fun, doesn’t mean I want to be a girl-”

 

“Expression versus identity.” Danny sighed, nodding solemnly. 

 

“Exactly. I identify as enby even though I express myself in a more stereotypically feminine way. But Spectra was lowkey straight up like, if I was that uncomfortable being a girl, I would try a bit harder to not look like one? And like- that’s literally not how gender works.”

 

A rack of clean dishes slammed down on the counter while Johnny stared at them like he could set them on fire with his glare. “Doesn’t she have a fucking psychology degree!? Why the fuck would she say that?!”

 

“She works here, dude,” Danny chimed in. “That degree means fucking nothing. Why else would a therapist end up working here of all places, otherwise? She probably sucked so bad, she couldn’t hold a job until here.” 

 

“She’s bipolar,” Ember sighed, “and I’m not just saying that. She told me she was diagnosed with it at like… twenty six or twenty seven, I don’t remember. But she doesn’t really have a good handle on her emotions or her brain, she’s plagued by this stupid ass perfectionism; probably a little bit of ocd to be honest. Hence all the stupid fucking nitpicking over all the wrong things that literally don’t matter. She ruminates over the stupidest shit.”

 

Johnny shook his head, “Damn. Kitty’s brother’s bipolar and he fricken learned how to keep his head in check and how to have some goddamn respect for himself. Crazy what actually taking your meds will do.”

 

“I’m glad she ended up here,” Danny shrugged. “She’s not great, but I think it’s really good that she ended up here, in a place of adults who see her, think she’s nuts, and can move on. She could’ve ended up as some fucked up, soul stealing, high school counselor. So, I guess it’s a good thing we’re the only ones dealing with her and not a bunch of suicidal teens..”

 

“You would find a way to put a morbid ass positive spin on this shit,” Ember rolled her eyes. 

 

“Here. Let me put a positive spin on this,” Johnny held his soapy hands out, drawing all their attention. “Today sucked, okay? So let’s lock up the doors, speed run this close, and go out tonight? Drinks on me?”

 

“You’re buying!?” Ember lit up. “Hell yes!”

 

“The first round, Em. I’m buying the first round and that’s it.”

 

“Boo!! You’re no fun!”

 

Danny chucked gently at the antics. “I’d love to grab a drink together.”

 

“So it’s settled then!” Johnny turned back to the dishes. “Ember, kick everyone out.”

 

“We’ve still got three minutes, though.”

 

“Did I stutter?”

 

Sam leaned over the counter, “See ya, Danny!”

 

“Bye!”

 

She waved to the other two who waved politely back before Ember started her rounds, kindly asking people to leave and get home safe. 

 

There was a lightness in their heart and an ease to her step as she left the cafe and started walking home. It's good that Danny has such good coworkers, and Sam was glad she got to watch them all interact with one another. A small smile tugged at their lips as they walked down the street; she couldn’t wait to tell Tucker!

 

They swished around the chai in her tumbler, watching the ice swirl around, seeing the sediment of black pepper create a mini whirlpool at the bottom. 

 

Fucking hell. She was genuinely excited to talk to Tucker about their fucking upstairs neighbor having a great relationship with his coworkers. What the fuck was wrong with her?

 

Why the fuck did she care so much?

 

They took a sip of the spiced chai-

 

Holy fuck-

 

What the hell?

 

She knew it was a little spicy. She knew the milk cut back some of the ginger. But this??? 

 

She was a small girl, sitting in her mother’s garden, learning how to sit up straight and sip tea properly, learning how to explore the different flavors and expand her palette, learning how to identify tastes.

 

The milk… the milk had muted so much of this drink-

 

She could taste the honey, the pepper, the cloves. It was incredibly malty, warm in a way a taste could be despite the ice of the drink. That would most likely be from a little cinnamon and the actual tea itself. An assam blend for sure. It was obviously fine with the milk, that’s how it was intended to be enjoyed but… Sam honestly liked it better without milk, spice and all.

 

She pulled out their keys as they approached their apartment complex, ready to collapse on the couch and spend the night dozing off on Tucker’s shoulder while they watched one of their shows together. They didn’t know which one she was particularly in the mood for, though. More than the shows, she just needed the physical affection. 

 

The thought caused her to shudder as she got to the building. Her mother would be laughing at her if she knew that after all these years her little Samantha was looking forward to cuddling up with some boy. They could hear the I told you so, echoing in their mind. 

 

She did her best to ignore the unwelcome thought as they took the elevator up to their floor. A quick walk down the hallway and they were turning the key in the lock.

 

She hadn’t even opened the door all the way before-

 

“Sam! You’re home!”

 

“Oh wow! It smells so good, what are you making?”

 

Tucker smiled at her brightly from the kitchen as they took their shoes off and closed the door. “I know you were having an icky day so I figured I’d make you a fancy dinner. It’s honestly not much, it’s just poached eggs on toast, but it’s fancy poached eggs on toast!”

 

“Oh yeah? How so?” She leaned over his shoulder checking out the plates. 

 

He pointed at the ingredients for her. “Obviously we’ve got eggs. Instead of toast, I did it on little English muffin guys. We’ve got some avocado slices. This here is some of our roasted tomatoes we saved from last week. And I added some thyme and the garnish is basil.”

 

“Wow! How fancy!” 

 

“Right!?” He turned in her arms and placed a small kiss on her nose. “Are you hungry?”

 

“Starving.” 

 

The night was shaping up beautifully. Sam told Tucker all about schoolwork, the employees at Phantom Grounds, and the new discovery with the chai. After enjoying their ‘eggs on toast but fancy,’ the two of them settled on the couch for a few episodes of Hell's Kitchen. Tucker especially was in the mood for it after his time in their own kitchen. 

 

Sam’s head was pressed up against Tucker’s chest, and she snuggled deeper into his arms. His fingers scratched gently at the nape of her neck as he carded them through her hair, and she was melting. It felt so nice. He took such good care of her. 

 

She hadn’t even realized her eyes slipped closed.

 

It wasn’t until she heard the TV turn off that she opened her eyes again.

 

“Go back to sleep,” Tucker whispered. Coaxing her to slump back down against him. She let out a small hum of contentment and happily listened to him for once, easily letting him go back to playing with her hair. 

 

In the silence of their apartment, they heard a small thump above them, coming kinda from the door. 

 

“Danny m’de it home-” She smiled into Tucker’s shirt, delighting in his affirming head pat. 

 

There are a few moments where everything is beautiful. The apartment is quiet, Tucker is comfortable, Sam is content, and they begin to drift off. 

 

Then, underneath her, Tucker tensed. 

 

His hand cupped the back of Sam’s head, arm wrapping over their shoulders protectively. 

 

Sam tried to glance up, but he held her in place, carefully squeezing her close.

 

Awareness buzzed back to her slowly as a muffled conversation echoed above them, traveling through the walls, dread slipping between the floorboards and reverberating through her soul. 

 

“Yo… didn’t answer …uestion. Wher… fuck have you been!?”

 

“I …ent out wit… friends after work!”

 

“Wh… fuck kinda frien… re you …ven talking about!? Who are they!”

 

“M- …oworkers?!”

 

“Names Fenton! I w- …mes! Now!”

 

“Em… -nd …onny! -eally did just go… the bar aroun… block! I swear!”

 

“Yo- …ld me you’d be home!”

 

“Yea… aft- work!”

 

“…ork ended hours ago!”

 

“Di- you …ant me… call? -coul… let you k… I …going out?”

 

“No!! I wanted you home!!” 

 

“Da… … …cr-ing?”

 

“You said you’d be home!!”

 

Sam felt Tucker flinch underneath her. Danny’s voice echoed over them, a pained yelp.

 

“Fuck!!”

 

Something clattered against the floor and Sam’s fists twisted in Tucker’s shirt. Did that bitch just throw something… at Danny!?

 

“You lied to me!”

 

“Dash! I said I’d-”

 

“You lied to me!”

 

“Listen to me!”

 

“I don’t have to listen to shit! You tol… …e you’d be hom- tonight. You sai- …ou’d see me later!”

 

… … … … … … 

 

“Shut UP!”

 

Her hanging fairy lights shook from the other side of the ceiling. It was a chair presumably, violently pushed into the floor, knocked over. She wasn’t proud of the gasp that escaped her, the way she clung to Tucker in fear instead of anger. 

 

“Dash! Where are you going!?” 

 

“Fuck off Fenton! You lost the right to know!”

 

The door above theirs slammed with finality. 

 

“D-ash!”

 

Danny’s voice broke. 

 

There was another thud, softer this time. Knees against the floor.

 

“Fine! Fuck you!”

 

He sobbed, high pitched, and unguarded, and ugly.

 

“You go out with Kwan! Get high with Paulina!! Fine! Fucking fine!! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you I hate you I hate you!”

 

The chair was thrown again, pathetically sliding across the floor, scraping above their heads. He must’ve stood up, footsteps quickly pacing across the floor, heavy, angry. 

 

“How wo… you like it-!? Huh!? If …tarted breaki… all of your things?!”

 

He screeched above them as a different thing clattered to the floor, shattering outwards in a firework of pain and revenge. 

 

Sam stared dully at Tucker’s shoulder. Unmoving. Unthinking. Paralyzed by the small sobs and hiccups that she caught through the muffle of the ceiling. 

 

He fell to the floor again, harder this time, collapsing into a puddle of his own misery.

 

Sam’s heart stuttered in her chest, aching to reach out, she pushed herself up, more than ready to march upstairs and vouch for her friend, to help him clean up the pieces of whatever he just broke-

 

But there was Tucker. 

 

His hand around her bicep, holding her in place. Eyes vacant with resignation and fear. 

 

He reached out for his phone, grabbing it off the end table. He spent a few moments tapping on his screen, one handed, whilst keeping Sam grounded with the other. 

 

Suddenly, their speakers purred to life, rumbling with a gentle soundtrack. Tucker turned up the volume, loud enough to make Sam a little uncomfortable, loud enough that… Loud enough that the neighbors could hear.

 

Suddenly she was placing the music. It was Doomed… Obviously it was Doomed. 

 

…But it was Danny’s favorite level. 

 

Something he shared with them just last night, when they all played together. Something the three of them had in common. 

 

Something to let him know… he wasn’t playing alone. 

 

The tension drained out of Sam’s shoulders as they lowered themselves back on top of Tucker. She wanted to do more. But it was late, and…

 

She really shouldn’t let Tucker sleep on the couch, she should lift him off the couch, bring him to their bed, but… it was silly… but she didn’t want to leave Danny. 

 

He probably didn’t want to leave either. 

 

So they stayed. 

 

Sam cuddling into Tucker’s chest, using his shoulder as a pillow. 

 

Tucker laying on the couch, phone in hand, using Sam as a blanket. 

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Danny on the ground, surrounded by shards of ceramic from Dash’s favorite football mug that his mother had bought for him when they moved out together, tears blurring his vision and soaking into his hair, temple throbbing from where his boyfriend had nailed him with his own game controller, desperately trying to convince himself that this was okay, as he pressed his ear against the hardwood, praying to the ancients to somehow stop feeling, while Tucker and Sam played Doomed beneath him, none the wiser. 

 

Lucky fucks… this was his favorite level…

 

 

---

 

 

 

Notes:

Cw: Physical Abuse, Rage, Breaking Stuff, Saying Entirely Not What You Wanted to Say Actually, Guys Bein Dudes, Unlocking New Genders, You're Honor They're All Stupid

Chapter 4: Illusion of Peace

Summary:

A morning together in the apartment is magical. Until it’s not.

It had taken a stupidly long amount of time to pull himself out from underneath Sam that morning. First he tried his best not to wake her, then he tried to just move her over, finally he bit the bullet and asked her if she’d let him up. 

 

None of that worked.

 

Obviously she had woken up when he started shifting underneath her, and he wasn’t nearly strong enough to lift her, especially from that position, and she was incredibly reluctant to let her pillow just walk away from her. 

 

Eventually he managed to extract himself from the couch, getting Sam her real pillow from her real bed, and tucking her in with her little, fluffy, checkerboard, throw blanket. 

 

And finally- blessedly- he was free to use the bathroom.

 

With all that said and done, it was decidedly not worth trying to join her on the couch again. A check of his dying phone showed it was only eight thirty in the morning. 

 

Okay… there were a few things he could do.

 

He started off by ducking back into his bedroom and plugging his phone into the charger.

 

Um… okay that’s all he had planned. He saw the little red battery icon and knew that it wouldn’t last all day and needed to fix it immediately and now he was standing in his room, staring at his nightstand at eight thirty in the morning on a goddamn Saturday. 

 

He covered up a yawn, then scrubbed a hand over his face. Today was gonna be either really long and dragging, or-

 

Wait. It was Saturday, right? Never mind. It’d go by so so fast, and come Monday he would be wishing he was back here, despite the eight thirty arising.

 

Okay Tucker. You gotta make it count. 

 

Crap… how?

 

Food. 

 

Food was a good place to start. He headed out to the kitchen, careful not to disturb the goth on the couch. She’d probably be asleep for another hour and a half. He could take his time, work on some meal preps, make something really fancy and surprise her.

 

He reached into his pocket, ready to google ideas and recipes.

 

…

 

His… yeah his phone was… yep… he uh… he just did that. 

 

Okay. New plan. 

 

He opened the pantry, looking at their options. 

 

Toast. 

 

He could make toast.

 

He could put jelly on the toast. That was cute right? To put jelly on toast for your partner on a Saturday morning at eight thirty?

 

Geez, why was he so fricken incompetent without google!? Why did he study fricken computers when he didn’t know how to cook!? He should’ve been at home, with his mom, learning how to fix holes in clothes, and how to vacuum properly, and how to survive on his own, but instead he went to fricken college of all things and now he couldn’t even-

 

His head snapped up. There was a noise. Small. A tapping of some kind. 

 

It had stopped as soon as it started. 

 

Tucker held still, listening. 

 

…

 

It came again, a gentle, timid tapping. 

 

Knocking. 

 

Someone was knocking on the door.

 

…

 

Someone was knocking on the door?

 

He put the bread on the counter and closed the pantry door, heading over to the …door door and looking through the peephole. 

 

His heart leapt to his throat as he immediately recognized the boy and hurriedly opened the door. “Hey dude,” he casually waved.  

 

Danny looked startled, bright blue eyes widening as tension seeped into his shoulders. “Tucker-! Hey!” He tugged nervously at his sleeves.

 

Tucker’s gaze awkwardly swept across the empty hallway. “So. What brings you here?”

 

“Um… My shift doesn’t start until three today. I know it’s kinda early but… I was wondering if you wanted to hang out for a bit? Before I have to go?”

 

Maybe he should’ve considered it a bit more. Maybe he should’ve thought about how he’d just woken up. How he wasn’t showered, or dressed, heck, he hadn’t even brushed his teeth yet. Maybe he should’ve been a little more mindful about how Sam was passed out on the couch, how she’d be mortified to be perceived right now. But at the same time, it was eight thirty in the morning on a Saturday. They had just slept on the couch together because they had heard Danny have a fight with his partner just one floor above them. And now… he was here. At their door. Hood pulled up, hands fidgeting with the hem of his sleeves, still covered in various drink stains. 

 

“Of course, man! Come on in.” Tucker stepped to the side, opening the door a bit wider and giving the other boy plenty of space. 

 

Danny crossed the threshold, incredibly out of place, looking around curiously. “Thanks.”

 

“No problem,” Tucker closed the door gently, shutting out the light of the hallway. “Just keep your voice down, ‘cause Sam’s still sleeping. If you want, grab a seat at the counter, I’m gonna make toast. Did you want some?”

 

“Oh! Uh… no thanks! I’m okay.” He gently crept around the bar, awkwardly shuffling to the furthest seat from the couch. 

 

Tucker nodded. “You ate breakfast already? Dang you must’ve been up early.”

 

Danny huffed a quiet laugh. “I haven’t eaten yet, I’m just not really hungry.”

 

Tucker’s hands hovered over the bread. “Do you dislike toast?”

 

Danny tilted his head, “…No? Do you usually ask people if they dislike toast?”

 

“It’s actually one of my go-to icebreakers.” Tucker shrugged, a smile playing on his lips. He added two more slices to the second slot on the toaster.

 

Danny settled properly into his seat, relaxing ever so slightly at Tucker’s light hearted teasing. “Oh is it? I don’t recall you asking during our little game of twenty questions the other day.”

 

“I don’t recall finishing it,” Tucker shot back, pulling out the small jars of fancy jam Sam had gotten at whatever farmers market was on her walk to school last week. “Somebody had to go do their job or something.”

 

Danny rolled his eyes. “It’s not my fault a certain someone else got sidetracked by Doomed.”

 

“Fair,” Tucker shrugged. “Between peach, strawberry, and grape, what do you want on your toast?”

 

“…huh?”

 

“Jelly. Unless you don’t want any, that’s perfectly fine too, but we have peach, strawberry, and grape.”

 

“For the toast?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“That… I just told you I didn’t want?”

 

Tucker nodded casually. “Yeah.”

 

“But… I said I didn’t want any.”

 

“You also said you haven’t eaten yet this morning. And that you don’t dislike toast.”

 

Danny dragged a hand through his hair. “Tuck, I’ve barged into your apartment, uninvited, so early in the morning that people are still asleep here. I’m not gonna make you get breakfast for me.”

 

“First of all,” Tucker put a hand on his hip. “It’s too late, the toast is in the toaster and somebody has to eat it so it might as well be you.”

 

“I could wake up Sam, right now, actually-”

 

“Second of all,” he interrupted. “Sam’s a night owl, and a late sleeper; there is a chance you could come in at one in the afternoon and she’d just be waking up. That’s not a good metric to measure time.”

 

“Lucky,” Danny laid his head down on the counter top, looking less like a twenty-something with a job and more like a moody, overtired, highschool student. “That’d be me if I didn’t have an impossible work schedule.”

 

“Third of all, you’re not uninvited. Our place has been open to you since we-” he paused. Best not to scare him away. “We like you Danny. We want to spend time with you. I’m more than willing to make you toast for breakfast. Relax. You’d do the same for me.”

 

Danny fell quiet, eyes staring dully at the countertop, considering. Tucker turned back to the toaster popping open the strawberry jelly and grabbing a knife to spread it with. The first set of toast popped up.

 

“Tucker?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“…Would you pass me the grape one?”

 

Tucker smiled down at his own toast, wiping off the extra jelly from the knife with the edges of the bread. “‘Course dude.”

 

“Thanks.” 

 

The second set popped out of the toaster and Tucker plated them, bringing the toast and jelly over to Danny. “Let me grab you a knife, hold up.”

 

Once the knife had been procured, Danny set about preparing his toast. Tucker leaned against the counter in the kitchen, holding his plate, and watching Danny. 

 

When Danny was content with his jelly, he screwed the lid back on and popped the knife in his mouth, licking off the excess. 

 

“Dude!” Tucker hissed.

 

Danny looked up at him like a deer in headlights. “What?”

 

“Don’t lick the knife! Those things are serrated!” 

 

His shoulders relaxed as he smirked up at Tucker. “What am I supposed to do? Let the jelly go to waste?”

 

“The bread, man. You’re supposed to put it on the bread.”

 

“Nah. More fun this way.” He put the knife down on the edge of his plate, licked clean. With that, he finally started eating the toast. 

 

“Barbaric. You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

 

Danny chuckled between bites. “Oh yeah don’t worry, I already have. Loads of times. Well, wait no, that makes it sound like more often than it actually is. I’ve just been doing it my whole life so- Ya know, when you cut yourself like… I don’t know, six or seven times in twenty years, that’s a pretty good track record.”

 

Tucker’s laugh surprised him and Danny both. It bubbled out of him, light, and airy- and where the heck did that even come from-!? “Dude no-”

 

Danny laughed back gently, taking a bite of his toast with a little innocent shrug. 

 

Behind his guest, on the couch, he saw Sam start to stir. Without comment, he put more toast in the toaster. The action caught Danny’s attention, he tilted his head at Tucker, who merely nodded towards the couch. 

 

A peek over his shoulder had Danny nodding in understanding before turning back to his toast. Now everyone was on the same page.

 

Well… except for Sam.

 

She pushed herself up into a sitting position, wrapping her blanket around her like a cocoon. 

 

Tucker grabbed a glass from the cupboard and turned on the faucet. Danny nibbled on his toast, quietly watching as Tucker filled up the glass and brought it over to Sam. 

 

“Morning Nightshade.”

 

“…mmm…” she groaned, groggily taking the water from him. 

 

“Morning, Sam.” Danny offered, gently and uncertainly from his bar stool.

 

“…mornin’.”

 

She paused.

 

Tucker smirked as she slowly glanced over her shoulder. Her glazed eyes groggily landed on the other boy. She took a sip of her fresh water, gaze sharpening. 

 

“Tucker…”

 

“Sam.”

 

“Danny’s here?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Like, for fuckin’ real?”

 

“Like for fucking real. Yeah.” 

 

She stared directly at Danny. A heavy sigh pulled its way from her lungs. “You motherfucker. You finally get him to come over and I’m not fucking presentable! You jerk-”

 

“You’re fine!” Danny cut in, “I’m intruding on your morning, you couldn’t have known.”

 

Sam turned back towards Danny, shoulders slumping as she pulled the blanket tighter around her body. “Not the point.” She huffed a small groan and stood up from the couch, blanket around her shoulders and water in hand. “It’s whatever. I’m gonna get ready.”

 

Tucker placed a quick kiss on her cheek that she waved off, face flushing red as she disappeared into her room. 

 

He made his way back to the kitchen, holding back a yawn as he stood near the toaster, eating another bite of his own breakfast, and staring at the three jellies, trying to pick one out for Sam. 

 

“If she likes peach, give her that one,” Danny shrugged. “That way we can all have different toast.”

 

The toast popped out of the toaster. “I like it, let’s do it. It’s like matching in the exact opposite way.” Tucker gave Danny a grin before turning back to the toast and preparing a plate for Sam. 

 

They sat in the quiet of each other's company for merely a moment. It wasn’t something that had ever particularly bothered Tucker, but Danny was a little restless this morning. “It’s weird being in your apartment,” he started a bit bluntly. “Not that your apartment is weird! I just mean that, well, Dash and I have the same space? Ya know? Like all the walls are in the same places, the kitchen, the bedrooms, it’s like being in my own apartment but someone else came in and decorated while I was gone. It’s like a whole different apartment built on the ghost of the first.” 

 

Tucker hid his laugh behind his hand, putting Sam’s toast to the side. “So, I’m not sure if you know this, but crazy thing about apartment buildings-”

 

“Ancients,” Danny rolled his eyes with an exasperated huff. “Yeah yeah, I wasn’t trying to be an idiot, I was just trying to explain my feelings.”

 

“Ew!” Sam called from the door of her room. “Who has feelings? Get that shit out of here.” She ducked into the bathroom next and was once again out of sight

 

“It’s okay man, Sam might be allergic to feelings, but I’m always down to make fun of- I mean, talk about your feelings.”

 

“Wow, my feelings and I feel so warm and welcome here.”

 

“Good, I’m glad.” Tucker leaned up against the counter. “Did you enjoy your toast?”

 

Danny looked down at his empty plate with a sheepish nod. “Yeah. Thanks for making it for me.”

 

“Yeah, of course dude. And the jelly was good?”

 

“The jelly was great.”

 

Tucker adjusted his glasses. “I’ll be sure to let Sam know; she picked them out. They’re all homemade.”

 

“That’s cool!”

 

“She’s real big on organic stuff and buying locally. And hey, she’s got the money to do it so we’re pretty lucky in that regard.” He turned back to the cabinets and pulled himself out a glass. He reached for the faucet once more before his hand froze over the handle. “Oh, crap dude, I’m sorry. I’m an awful host. Did you want a drink at all? It totally slipped my mind.”

 

“Oh!” Danny tilted his head in thought. “Yeah actually, water would be great.”

 

Tucker filled up the glass and set it in front of his guest. “You’re allowed to be more fussy, I promise. We have options. There's grape juice, iced tea. If you wait a little bit then I can make you coffee or something?”

 

Danny shrugged, “I think I’m fine with the water for now. It’s okay.”

 

“Fine, I get it,” Tucker nodded, sarcastically. “You make fancy schmancy drinks at your little cafe all day, you don’t think I can make anything nearly as good for you.”

 

A small laugh gently bubbled up from Danny’s chest. “Dude you’ve seen me make the drinks. First of all, they’re not fancy. Second of all, I’m not even good at it.”

 

“Lies!” He gasped, “Lies and slander!” He grabbed another glass for himself and filled it up with water for himself as well. “After all we’ve been through. After bonding over Doomed. After collecting the third key. And you would lie to me?”

 

“It’s not fancy! It’s just coffee and milk, really.”

 

“This is chai erasure!” Sam emerged from the bathroom. She had pulled her hair back messily and changed into some clean clothes. Tucker also knew for a fact she had brushed her teeth, it was always the first thing she did every morning. “‘Just coffee and milk’ is neglecting a whole third of your menu! The teas!”

 

“It’s not like we’re drying out the leaves ourselves. The chai is premade in a different building, the matcha too! The hot tea is just a teabag in hot water, the chai is just: shake the pitcher and pour it out. It’s really not fancy. Anyone can do that much.”

 

“That’s not the point, dude. You have fancy cold foam, the little cappuccinos with the cool little swirly art, the mochas and lattes and fortes. That’s all fancy!” He grabbed Sam’s toast from the counter and set it down in front of the second barstool.

 

Danny blinked at him. “That’s all literally just coffee. And milk.” 

 

“Okay.” Sam took a seat next to him, picking up a slice. “If I were to ask what the fanciest drink is, what would you say and why?”

 

“Cappuccino is probably the fanciest we have. Macchiatos are just milky shots, cortados are traditional too but with them and flat whites there’s not enough room to do any art. The lattes we do don’t have foam on them so it’s just a stereotypical coffee with milk. Au laits are literally coffee with milk. Cappuccinos have the foam art. I’m not good at it yet… but if Noct is on coffee? Try his! He always makes these amazing little leaves. I don’t know how. Oh! And for the love of fuck, don’t order an iced cap.”

 

Tucker tilted his head. “What’s wrong with an iced cap?”

 

Danny sighed. “You’re customers, I shouldn’t be saying this to you.”

 

“Hey!” Sam glared at him between bites. “Fuck that, I’m a goddamn friend.”

 

His shoulders slumped a bit, Tucker hoped it was in some kind of relief. He brushed his hair from his eyes. “Well, iced lattes are quick and easy. It’s really just the thirty two seconds it takes to run the shots. Iced caps need foam. Foam takes time to heat up, but aside from that it’s a huge waste of milk.”

 

Sam leaned forward. “How so?”

 

“When you make a hot cap, you heat up the milk, foam it a bit, and pour it into the cup. You’re using both the milk and the foam. That’s why they kinda swirl the little milk pitcher before they pour it? You have to mix the milk and the foam together to pour it nicely.” He propped his elbow up on the counter. “With an iced cap, you can’t pour it because the hot milk defeats the whole ‘iced’ thing? So you have to use more milk, to get enough foam, to top off the drink with just foam. It’s tedious as a barista, a huge waste of milk if nobody else is ordering a hot latte anytime soon, which happens a lot in the summer months when it’s hot enough that people get iced caps, and then half the customers are upset that the foam is warm anyway?”

 

“The fuck?”

 

“Yeah, I don’t know. I don’t really like coffee, so it’s not like I know what other cafes and coffee shops do with their iced caps. But that’s how we do ours. Some people want it exactly like that, and some people complain after you put in all the effort and then ask for a basic iced latte instead. Which as I’ve said. Much better option. Takes thirty seconds to throw together if there’s not a long line.”

 

Tucker crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter. “How long have you been working there, man?”

 

“A few months,” he shrugged. “I got hired in the middle of May. Which was awful by the way.”

 

Sam took another bite of toast, staring intently and gesturing for him to continue.

 

“So the college? At the end of the semester has an event where-”

 

“The reunion,” Tucker breathed. “Yikes dude.”

 

“Yeah… Casper University’s big reunion. The line was out the door all day for a week. And I didn’t understand any of what was going on. So much of my training got pushed back just because of how busy it was. Now I’ve been here for five months, they’ve released me into the wild to make coffee, and they’re upset I’m bad at it.”

 

“That’s fucked.” Sam slid her empty plate to Tucker, who happily placed it in the sink for later. “They messed up your training and they’re upset you’re not good?”

 

“It’s mainly Spectra. Shifts with her really just suck the fucking life out of me. She’s so nitpicky about the stupidest stuff, and totally self important, too. She’s a nightmare.” Danny sighed, laying his head down on the counter. 

 

Tucker gently placed a hand on the boy’s arm, letting Danny huff again before he looked up. Tucker fixed his glasses with his free hand. “Well, Danny, I know just the thing that can turn your nightmare into a dream come true.”

 

Sam rolled her eyes. 

 

Bright blue eyes blinked back at Tucker. “Yes?”

 

 

---

 

 

“Parkour!” Danny giggled as his character hopped across the screen. 

 

Tucker was laughing harder than Sam had seen him laugh in a while whilst Danny’s character once again plunged to the waters below. 

 

Sam leaned up against the arm of the couch, relaxing into the cushions and smiling at the boys’ antics. Without Danny’s computer, they couldn’t really play Doomed, so the three of them had scrolled through Tucker’s PC for some good couch co-op games. 

 

After a few great rounds of Overcooked, they had suggested Tucker and Danny play A Hat In Time together while she threw together a midday snack. 

 

The vegetable tray and assortment of whole wheat crackers and dips were the perfect loading screen finger food for the two of them. And Danny’s learning curve paired with Tucker’s platforming mastery was the perfect entertainment for her.

 

It was easy. 

 

The laughter, the conversation.

 

They were all incredibly bright young adults. Sam had easily hyped up Tucker’s engineering degree, heard about Danny’s interest in astronomy and physics, and volunteered their own tales from the environmental science courses they were taking. They were all incredibly awkward, Tucker leading off with streaming moments he wasn’t proud of, Sam following with some questionable social justice stances they had taken in the past, and Danny rounding them off with how his grades had slipped and how he ended up at Phantom Grounds. 

 

Sam was impressed, genuinely, by how well they jived. How something so random as their apartment numbers, threw them into this situation. 

 

If they hadn’t dragged Tucker upstairs that first night. If they hadn’t ducked into that coffee shop. If they hadn’t cared enough about the fair trade beans. There were so many what ifs. 

 

So many coincidences. 

 

They were so… comfortable.

 

Tucker ruffling Danny’s hair when he finally got the controls down, Danny wheezing into Tucker’s shoulder after a bad joke. 

 

Did they even realize?

 

Sam bit into a carrot, watching her friend and her boyfriend live in each other's presence. 

 

They had no idea.

 

“No way dude, she did not!”

 

“Well now at this point I’m fully fucking, like, gone. I’m three cocktails in, Kwan is kinda blocking me in the booth, and Paulina goes-”

 

A slam reverberated through the apartment.

 

Sam’s heart dropped. 

 

Tucker’s frozen, hand hovering over the crackers and dip. 

 

Danny’s body tenses, as his eyes slowly travel up to the ceiling.

 

Heavy footfalls cross the apartment above them, playing out along the ceiling. 

 

Danny tracks every single one.

 

He is no longer in the apartment with them. 

 

And Sam knows immediately, that today, they have lost. 

 

“You guys can hear that…” 

 

It’s quiet. A gentle breath carried through the space between them. 

 

The meaning settles between them, sinking into the pillows. 

 

Weighing down on the cushions.

 

Tucker forces a laugh. Missteps. “It’s not too bad! It’s the usual wall sharing stuff in apartments like these.”

 

Sam can feel the easy morning shatter in the air around them. Danny’s no longer relaxed on their couch. He’s no longer a guest in their home. He’s a prisoner in his own life as reality once again comes for him. 

 

“Um… sorry Tucker, Sam,” he hands her the controller. They take it. “You finish the level for me. I really gotta go get ready for work.”

 

Tucker starts to stand up “I can see you out-” 

 

But Danny holds out a hand. “I’m okay. I know where the door is.” He’s in the kitchen. “You guys finish up the level! Okay?” His shoes are on. “I’ll see you around!” The door is closed. 

 

The door is closed. 

 

The door is fucking closed. 

 

…

 

They had been… so… comfortable.

 

 

---

 

 

 

Chapter 5: Whiplash

Summary:

One step forward. Three steps back.

Notes:

CWs in the end notes

“Hey, can I get rinses please?”

 

“On it!”

 

“Oat iced caramel latte to go!”

 

“Oat iced caramel latte to go-”

 

“Johnny?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Can I get two scarlet tea packs and a ginger?”

 

“Two scarlet, one ginger.”

 

“This joe is timed!”

 

“Joe timed!”

 

Faded green hair caught his attention as the barista waved from the register. “I can help who's next down here!”

 

“Kitty…” the other barista leaned towards them, crouching down a little, gently interrupting. His eyes were dull; dark rims betraying quite the lack of sleep. 

 

“Oh! Sorry, just give me one sec.” Kitty held up a finger to Tucker over the register before turning to the barista. “Hm?”

 

“I’ve got three lattes, who’s got the vanilla, who’s got skim?”

 

“Vanilla is for the one with the pink headphones, skim is the dude with the sunglasses, and oat caramel is this tall, long hair, human.” 

 

“Thanks.”

 

“‘Course, thanks Noct!” They turned back to him. “Sorry about the wait! What can I get for ya?”

 

Tucker’s gaze darted from Kitty’s eyes, to Noct, hunched over the machine, working ever so methodically. He glanced up at the menu for a short second before he finally placed the familiarity of the name. “Can I get a cappuccino please?”

 

 

---

 

 

“Straight up iced chai in the mug?”

 

“You know it. Thanks Johnny!”

 

 

---

 

 

“You’re here pretty late tonight.” They flicked their fiery blue hair over their shoulder. 

 

“Yeah. I’m here with my plus one. She’s out taking a phone call, though. We learned the hard way not to ignore her mom,” He laughed a little awkwardly.

 

“Yikes-”

 

“I know.”

 

Ember glanced over her shoulder, “Danny’s rotating the walk-in right now, he’ll be out in a few-” 

 

“Don’t-!” he cut her off, anxiety spiking in his chest. “Um… don’t worry about it. He’s kinda been avoiding me for a few days. I don’t wanna corner him at work. It’s not right.”

 

Her posture changed as they eyed him. He could tell she was fighting the urge to cross her arms “…Why are you here then?”

 

“Sam wants her chai. The second closest cafe is Starbucks. She’s not going there anytime soon.”

 

“What's stopping you from taking your business to the third closest?”

 

“I don’t-” He took a breath, “Hey, I know you’re protecting him, but right now I’m genuinely trying to respect his privacy. I just told you I wasn’t looking to corner him!”

 

She leaned back coldly. Silently. 

 

Assessing him. 

 

“Look… If I’m reading into this too hard, Danny would be upset that we changed our routines to accommodate him. Right? So, if I continue like everything is normal, maybe he’ll start acting normal again, too.”

 

“…Is Babypop okay?”

 

Tucker glared at the counter. “…I don’t know.”

 

 

---

 

 

“Hey! Straight up iced chai in the mug?” 

 

“Thank you, Skulker. Did you touch up your dye? It looks fresh today!”

 

“It was a few nights ago. You’ve got a very keen eye for detail.” 

 

“I’m curious what brand you use. Also Ember and Kitty too!”

 

 

---

 

 

“Yo…” The dude ran a hand through his hair. “Tucker? Right? You’re Straight Up Iced Chai’s partner?”

 

“Yep! Tucker Foley, at your service. The TF stands for Too Fine.” He took a mini bow.

 

“Ayy, that’s a pretty nice line, man.”

 

“Thank you! Finally someone who appreciates my wit and charm.”

 

“I’m Johnny. Nice to actually officially meet you.” He reached his hand over the register, Tucker happily reciprocated. “A lot of times regulars order the same things, so I know their drinks more than their names.”

 

“Unfortunately for you, I make it a point to try something new whenever I can.”

 

“I've noticed. That’s why everyone calls you Straight Up’s partner. You don’t have your own name yet. Well, except that I just asked. What’ll it be today, TF?”

 

“Any suggestions?”

 

“Hmm… have you had our Nola yet?”

 

 

---

 

 

“Hello! I’ll be with you in just one moment.” His customer service voice was heavy with a forced gentle happiness. He tapped away on the screen, not yet ready to look up and take an order. 

 

They rolled their eyes. “Danny.”

 

He dutifully obeyed their command for attention, glancing up at them with guilty eyes. “Y-yes?”

 

“Listen, I’m not Tucker. I’m not willing to play your socially avoidant mind games-”

 

The punk barista leaned over the counter, reaching for the tumbler in Sam’s hand. “You want the usual, Iced Chai?”

 

“Awwwh, I’d love that, thanks Ember!”

 

“No problem!” She casually walked away with the cup, much slower than any of the workers here dared to move. Stalling. Giving them space. 

 

Sam huffed. “Danny, Tucker’s not gonna… … … He wants to keep playing that game with you. The one you two started last week. I get out of class at two tomorrow. You wanna hang out? Come over. You want me to back the fuck off? Then don’t. I don’t care what you do. But don’t you dare walk out on me and then ignore my messages for a week straight ever again. I told you, I’m not just a customer. I’m not just a neighbor. I want to be your friend. But not like this. Communication goes both ways. You need space? You say something. Don’t just ghost me because you’re uncomfortable, asshole.” 

 

The boy stared at her. Silent. He bit his lip, eyes darting away. “Right. Sorry…” he looked down at the register, typing in their order. 

 

“…I’ve got your chai.” Ember awkwardly reached between the two of them.  

 

Sam’s shoulders relaxed as they turned to the barista. “Thanks again, Ember. You guys are all so sweet. Have a nice afternoon, I’ll see you later!”

 

“Bye, Sam!”

 

“Bye!” They offered a small wave and walked around the counter of fixings and condiments. They weren’t particularly interested in staying after causing a little bit of a scene. 

 

“What the fuck was that?” Ember’s sharp voice drifted across the cafe as Sam pushed open the door. 

 

What the fuck, indeed.

 

 

---

 

 

“What the actual frick, Sam!?”

 

“What!?”

 

Tucker dragged a hand down his face, skewing his glasses. “For the love of- Sam! Stop stalking him!”

 

“I’m not stalking him!” She plopped heavily onto the couch, crossing her arms. “I was just checking in!”

 

“You keep showing up to his place of work!”

 

“You do too!”

 

“When he’s not there!” Tucker paced in front of the TV.

 

“Um excuse me, if you know that he’s not there then aren’t you stalking him too?”

 

“I don't know! Okay?” He stormed into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “I don’t know his schedule. And honestly, if I was a better person, I’d just go to a different cafe! He clearly doesn’t want to talk to us.”

 

“Speak for yourself, jerk!” She slammed her hands down on the cushion. “There’s absolutely no good reason for him to be blowing us off like this!”

 

“Don’t you get it?” He cracked open a soda. “We’re not his friends! We’re just customers! The weirdly nosy neighbors! We don’t know anything about him!”

 

“Bullshit!” Sam pushed herself up from the couch. “I know he likes astrology! That he wanted to be an astronaut! His favorite constellation is Orion because that was the one he could always find! I know he liked to stargaze with his mom. We know he’s got a sister who he misses deeply, who went to college to be a psychologist! We know his parents are chemists!”

 

“That’s all surface level small talk!” 

 

“That he’s deeply insecure about the fact everyone else in his family is PHD level and he’s a dropout? That’s small talk to you?” 

 

“Sam, look-”

 

“No, Tucker!” She stepped closer. “His favorite level is The Far Frozen, he doesn’t like his toast too crunchy, he wants a triple helix but he’s worried because he’s a side sleeper-”

 

“Sam-”

 

“He’s not out to his parents because he’s worried they’ll hate him, he wears the same fucking hoodie all the time because it was a gift from his sister, his favorite drinks to make are the iced lattes because he likes pouring the shots and the milk at the same time-”

 

“Sam!”

 

“Why do you think he doesn’t want to be your friend!?”

 

“Because if we’re friends that means I screwed up!!”

 

Sam paused, confusion flickering across her face. “Tucker-” The anger drained from her shoulders, her gaze flicked off to the side in thought.

 

Tucker sighed. 

 

He took a sip of his soda, the carbonation fizzed against his tongue, sugar coating his teeth in a long forgotten way. “Look… if we’re just neighbors, then it doesn’t matter.” He pushed his glasses up on his face. “If we’re friends…”

 

Sam sat down slowly at the counter, waiting for Tucker to find the right words. Patience wasn’t her strong suit, but he could tell she was trying for his sake. 

 

“If we’re friends then I haven’t done nearly enough.” 

 

Sam hid her head in her hands. “Tucker…” she groaned. “You’re so fucking autistic.” 

 

“What do you want from me!?”

 

“We’ve only known him for a few months!” Sam explained, a little exasperated. “You can’t fix his life in the span of weeks! We offered him a place to be if he needs one, and we’ve respected his choice to use or not use that space! What more would you have liked to do?”

 

He tilted his head at her. “But when they… and we heard… you were… but I-”

 

“His boyfriend’s abusing him. He’s not mad at you for not doing something. He’s probably embarrassed that we know about it.” Sam sighed and leaned back in the chair. “If he’s anything like you, which he probably is, it’s gonna be like you and your mom. He’s gonna be looking for normalcy. But sometimes, when you’re around normies, all they can offer is condolences and pity. You already know this, don’t you? He doesn’t want us to change just because we know.” 

 

“Like with me.”

 

She nodded. “Like with you.”

 

Tucker rubbed a hand against his temple. “That reminds me, I should probably call Dad sometime.”

 

Sam held out her arms, “Come here.”

 

Tucker quietly stepped around the counter and draped his arms over Sam’s shoulders, letting her squeeze around his waist. “Why did you think of that? With Danny, I mean. How do you know he’s embarrassed?” 

 

“‘Cause he reminds me of you.” Sam whispered. “Hiding in the corner of the nurse’s office, stressed out of his mind, and refusing help from anyone. He doesn’t want someone to make sure he eats, remember?”

 

“…I just want someone to play games with again.” 

 

Sam hugged him tighter. “Tucker.”

 

“S-am…”

 

“Awwh, are you crying?” She pulled back and looked up at him before standing from the chair and cradling his face in her hands. “I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

 

Tucker leaned into her hold as she wiped the tears off of his cheeks. “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too, moron.” She stood on her tip toes and placed a small kiss on his forehead. He smiled ever so slightly before dropping his head to her shoulder. Sam wrapped her arms around him, threading her fingers in his hair and gently scratching at his scalp. “You’ve been drinking soda again. I’ve seen all the cans in the recycling.”

 

He hummed tiredly, shoulders shrugging noncommittally against her arms, “Been stressed.”

 

“Danny?”

 

“Danny.”

 

Sam pet him tenderly. “I know. He stresses me out too. Wanna come sit on the couch?” 

 

Tucker nodded against her collar. 

 

Sam giggled and placed another kiss to his temple. “I invited him over, but he’s probably not coming.” She guided Tucker over to the couch, pulling him down on top of her and trapping him in her grip. “You’re stuck now.”

 

“How am I stuck?” He asked, snuggling into her chest. 

 

Sam wrapped her legs around his and squeezed him tightly. “‘Cause I caught you. You’re mine now.”

 

“I can get up perfectly fine.” He chuckled. 

 

“No you can’t. You’re mine.” 

 

“Sam, I’m not stuck.”

 

“Prove it,” she challenged. “Get up then.”

 

Tucker whined, “I don’t wanna get up.”

 

“Then you’re stuck.” Sam nodded. “Stuck with me. Forever. Trapped. On my couch.” 

 

He kissed her collarbone lovingly. “It’s a good place to spend forever.”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

It was a tap so gentle Tucker almost missed it.

 

His eyes opened slowly as he stirred from his nap. Sam was saying words gently into his hair, but he couldn’t really hear her just yet. 

 

She slipped out from underneath him and lowered him to the couch, where he yawned, burying his face in the cushion.

 

There was a moment of quiet, and then Sam was talking. Danny’s voice filtered in.

 

Gentle footsteps padded through the doorway. 

 

Tucker yawned again, adjusting his position on the couch. He still wasn’t quite sure what had woken him up, but he was more than happy to drift off again, letting Sam and Danny continue on in their little kitchen.

 

…

 

His eyes opened. Sam and Danny-

 

He pushed himself up on his elbows. 

 

“-‘re right, it wasn’t cool of me.” 

 

He looked towards their kitchen. 

 

“I’m not gonna say it’s alright, because it fucking wasn’t. But I am gonna say that I understand. I’m sorry I started shit at your job. Tucker told me off.” Sam crossed her arms self consciously. 

 

They were talking.

 

“I deserved it.” Danny ran a hand through his hair. “I appreciate you talking to me about it. I shouldn’t have ignored you like that, or like you said, I could’ve just said that I wanted space.” 

 

Danny was in their apartment-

 

“I’m glad that-”

 

“Sam!” Tucker stared at them from the couch. 

 

The goth looked over their shoulder questioningly. “Tucker.” 

 

The two stared at each other. Tucker looked back and forth between his partner and Danny. 

 

Sam shrugged her shoulders with a small self satisfied smirk and a cockily raised eyebrow.

 

Danny glanced between the two of them for a moment. 

 

“Why the heck is Danny here?” Tucker spluttered. 

 

“I told you! I asked him to come hang out with us.”

 

Tucker shifted his attention back to the barista. “Why the heck are you here!?” 

 

Sam ushered Danny further inside the apartment, leading him towards the couch. 

 

He nervously tugged on the strings of his hoodie. “I had fun playing that game last time. And Sam told me that you wanted to play it again, too.” 

 

Tucker tracked his movements, sitting up straighter on the couch, more awake, more alert. “Are you hungry at all, dude? Do you need water?” 

 

“Oh. Um- I’m okay!”

 

“Did you have lunch on your break?” Sam cut in. 

 

“Um, no? I haven’t eaten since before my shift but-”

 

“Dude!!” Tucker sprang up from the couch. “I’ve got snacks! We can have dinner a bit early too, if you’re super hungry!” He headed over to the kitchen, fretting the whole way. “When was your shift? What do you want?”

 

Danny laughed awkwardly as Tucker dragged him towards the kitchen. “I’m okay, r-” his stomach growled lightly. 

 

“Fuckin’ liar.” Sam laughed brightly. “Relax man, he likes cooking stuff. Let him make dinner.” 

 

“My mom always said nobody’s allowed to go hungry in a Foley residence!” Tucker started pulling things from the fridge and the pantry, determined to be the best cook he’s ever been.

 

“I feel bad, I don’t wanna be stealing your food.”

 

“It’s not stealing!” Tucker reassured.

 

“You know what, Danny,” Sam laid down on the couch. “Pick a night you’re off next week and why don’t you come over and make dinner for us then?”

 

 

---

 

 

“Danny!” 

 

“Hey Sam!”

 

“Come in!” They opened the door wider, giving Danny space to shuffle in with his grocery bags. They tilted their head in confusion, “Whatcha got there?”

 

“You guys haven’t eaten yet, right?”

 

“Honestly, probably should have. Tucker’s been busy setting up all his streaming gear though, so we didn’t actually get started on dinner yet. Why?”

 

“Good!” He placed his bags on the counter. “Well, not good- but I was afraid I’d missed the window. I didn’t get out until 6 and then I stopped by the store.”

 

“Oh my gosh, Danny is this-?” They trailed off while Danny opened all their kitchen cabinet doors. 

 

“Is there a pan I can borrow? I wanna cook the vegetables before I steal your oven.”

 

“Oh my fucking lord, I was kidding!” They laughed giddily as they peered around the bags. “What did you bring?” They pressed, pulling out a few tools for Danny to use. 

 

“Um. It’s not much, but I was thinking spring rolls? I honestly wasn’t sure if you were vegan or not so I wanted to make sure I had something for you to eat!”

 

“What the hell, that’s so sweet dude.” Sam leaned up against the counter. “Again, I wasn’t being entirely serious when I said you should come over and make dinner but I’m absolutely not gonna complain. This is awesome. I’m vegetarian by the way! Different pros and cons to the lifestyles, but personally, I’m not vegan. I drink a lot of tea and I’m not planning on giving up good, local honey anytime soon.”

 

“Fucking duh,” he sighed, slapping his hand against his forehead. “The chai has honey in it. I’d remembered that you used to get it with oat milk and wasn’t sure if… but there’s literally honey in it. Ignore me. I’m an idiot.”

 

“No you’re not. You’re thoughtful as hell, idiot.”

 

He smiled at them, a little flustered, a little exasperated. Sam smiled back, a smug confidence bending their expression to be a bit more of a smirk. 

 

“I deserve it.”

 

Sam laughed as they pulled back from the counter. “Spring rolls sound fucking awesome though dude, you’ll have to give Tucker the recipe sometime.”

 

“Oh! They’re really fun and easy!” He smiled as he set up the cutting board, Sam procured him a knife. “You just chop everything up, cook it for a bit, lay it out on the rice paper, and bake them for a little. Kwan taught me!” 

 

“Do they work at the coffee shop?”

 

“Oh, uh… nah that’s one of my boyfriend’s friends.”

 

“Oh,” Sam nodded. “Well, let’s see if you can make them taste as good as you’ve made them sound.”

 

Danny laughed gently. “I’ll try my best!”

 

 

---

 

 

He’s not sure how it happened.

-

“Am I stupid? How come I can’t figure out this dungeon?” Danny looked over his shoulder, eyes wide. 

 

Tucker looked up from his cutting board. “You may need to find more keys. The game’s randomized, it’s possible I didn’t have everything for it just yet.” 

-

He’s not sure when it started. 

-

“Hey dude!” Tucker beamed.

 

Danny’s face brightened from the other side of the register. “Yo man! What’s up? Hey we just got a new cold foam flavor. Do you like caramel? Try this!”

-

Or what he’s supposed to do about it. 

-

“I caught your stream last night! It was awesome!” His eyes scrunched up with the strength of his smile.  

 

“Thanks man! If you’re free Tuesday night, you should totally come over! We can play together!”

 

Apprehension flitted across his face. “I don’t wanna mess up your-”

 

“You can be like a guest star! It’ll be fun! Only if you want to, though! I know streaming’s not for everyone.”

 

His shoulders relaxed, awe creeping into his posture. “Are you sure, dude?”

 

“Yeah of course!”

 

Excitement like he hadn’t seen before. “I’d be fucking honored, Tuck!” 

-

This was a dangerous game.

-

“I’ve got the one on the left!”

 

“Crap! The spawners are back. Cover me!”

 

“Take ‘em out! I’ve got his attention”

 

“Yo, his health bar is so low, dude.”

 

“I know!! Just a few more weak point hits-”

 

“I’ve got the first spawner-”

 

“Oh, I crit!!”

 

“Fuck yes! A few more!”

 

“Dude!”

 

“You got it!”

 

“He’s down!! Forget the spawners. Get to his weak spot!”

 

“On it!”

 

“We’re so fricken close dude!”

 

“A few more hits!”

 

“YES!”

 

“HELL YEAH!”

 

“Oh my gosh!”

 

“Fucking hell!”

 

“We did it man!”

 

“It only took four tries, but who the fuck’s counting?” 

 

“That was awesome dude!”

 

“We make an incredible team!”

-

A slippery slope.

-

“Hey Danny!” 

 

“Hey Tuck.”

 

“You seem kinda tired. Are you okay?”

 

The boy yawned. “Didn’t sleep well last night and had an early shift today.”

 

“You hungry? Can I get you lunch?”

 

“Not gonna lie, I’m fucking starving, man.”

 

Tucker awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. “Make yourself at home dude. I’ll make us some food.”

 

Without complaint, Danny laid down on the couch, and by the time Tucker had come into the living room with a plate of sliced up mini sandwiches, he was asleep.

 

Tucker sat awkwardly on the floor, leaning forward against the coffee table and studying the other boy. His face was pale as ever, contrasting starkly with the deep purple rings that lined his eyes. 

 

He sighed into his arms as he stared at his guest.

 

He was screwed. 

 

He loved Sam. He really, truly did. 

 

His heart skipped a beat as Danny shifted in his sleep. A small groan slipped from his lips as his eyebrows furrowed. 

 

How it started, when it happened, and what he’s meant to do about it, Tucker had no clue. All he knew is the more time he spent with his friend, the more he found himself holding onto every word, replaying every interaction, giggling at every joke. He caught himself staring more often than not at the smiles, the blushes, the piercing blue eyes.

 

It was a dangerous game indeed. 

 

To be in love with Sam Manson. 

 

…

 

While also harboring a new crush on Danny Fenton.

 

 

---

 

 

Another paragraph finished and another hour gone by, Sam stretched at the table, deciding a little break was well deserved.

 

Across from them Danny was seated sideways, legs dangling off the arm of the chair, and nose buried in a book. 

 

“I see you’ve moved from planets to constellations.”

 

He glanced over at them, a little startled and caught off guard. “I mean… yeah I guess?” He laughed softly. “Stars have always been my favorite part to be honest. They’re so fascinating. How’s the essay?” 

 

“Four pages down, two more to go.” They stretched their arms over their head, sighing at the little cracks and pops. “Thanks for keeping me company. I know this isn’t the most riveting hang out.”

 

“Are you kidding? Thanks for having me along! I haven’t actually spent time in a library in years!” He placed his book face down, preserving his page before he shifted in the seat, spinning himself to a more ‘normal’ position. “It’s so quiet in here. It’s really nice. This is the most focused I’ve felt in ages.”

 

“It’s a great environment for getting shit done, that's for damn sure.” Sam’s gaze warily settled back on their essay. “I’m gonna use the bathroom, I’ll be back. Three more paragraphs to go, holy shit I’m almost done.”

 

“Hell yeah!” He cheered quietly. “I’ll save your seat!”

 

“Thanks, Danny.”

-

“Straight Up Chai!” 

 

“Hey Kitty! How have you guys been?”

 

“Fucking busy-” they sighed. 

 

“Yikes.” Sam unscrewed the lid of their tumbler. 

 

“Ayo, Straight Up!” Johnny grabbed their cup. “What’s good?”

 

“I finished this fuckass essay four days early? And holy shit, it feels like freedom to have already turned it in.”

 

“Oh shit,” Kitty tilted their head. “How’d you turn it in? I could never. I was always reading and rereading my essays until the last hour.”

 

Sam shrugged. “I have Tucker submit the assignments. He’ll proofread, ask me about things that he’s confused about, or point out some typos, and then he submits them so I’m not overthinking. Usually it’s night of, but this was a weird occasion.”

 

“Good on ya!” Kitty nodded. “That’s awesome that you got it done early.”

 

“Thanks guys!”

 

“Sam!” 

 

They turned their head at the voice behind them. “Danny!” 

 

He brought the bus tub he had been carrying to the sink behind the counter before ducking back out of the employee section. “Hey are you doing anything tonight?”

 

Sam blinked at him. “Um. Sleeping?”

 

“Do you want to have plans? Or should I leave you to your rest?”

 

“What kinda plans we talking?”

 

“Ember’s playing tonight! You should totally come!”

 

Sam’s heart pounded in their chest. They blinked at him a little dumbly. “Oh, shit!” They answered lamely. “Um, yeah! I’d love to go!”

 

Danny’s face brightened, “Awesome!! We get out in about an hour and a half. We can go together. Wait for me?”

 

“Of course!”

-

The night had passed by in a bit of a blur to be perfectly honest. The band was alt as fuck. The music was loud as hell. The drinks kept coming. 

 

At some point during the set Danny had taken off his signature hoodie. And that should not have been an issue. But fuck-

 

Sam’s eyes kept trailing over his body, so fucking pale. His tank top, simple and black, lending the spotlight to the rest of his body. His arms, much more toned than they had imagined, muscles built from carrying tubs of dishes and 12 liter cambros and various drink pitchers all day. His jeans were low on his hips, the band of his boxers hidden only by the hoodie he had wrapped around his waist. 

 

Fuck- 

 

They must be out of their goddamn mind. Probably drunk to be fair. 

 

There was no way in hell they were staring at fucking Danny of all people like that. 

 

He had a boyfriend! 

 

They had a boyfriend!

 

…

 

Greedy. 

 

That sobered them up. 

 

Kill the thought. 

 

It wasn’t fair to Tucker. 

 

Kill the feeling. 

 

They were friends.

 

Sam declined every drink after that, focusing on rehydrating and listening to Ember’s band.

 

It’s not until the show is over and the band is packing up that Sam even notices.

 

And how fucked up is that?

 

In the dim, flashing lights of the bar, despite having done nothing but stare at their friend-

 

It wasn’t until they were outside, in the fresh air, under the street lamps, that Sam saw the bruises along Danny’s arms.

 

“…-azy to think we hadn’t gotten along at first!” Danny was leaning up against the building, occasionally peaking through the window. “But they’re not being rude, she’s just like that. A little blunt. So she wasn’t trying to like, get me in trouble or anything, they were trying to help me.”

 

“Who’s trying to help you?” Ember slung her guitar case over her shoulder, holding open the door for the rest of the band.

 

“Good work tonight!”

 

“Why are you still here, Young Blood! Don’t you have school or something tomorrow!?”

 

“It’s literally Friday night you old lady!” He stuck his tongue out at her. 

 

“Get off my damn lawn whippersnapper!” They flipped him off. He flipped her off right back. “Fucking eighteen year olds. Just started college this September. Fuck, they grow up so fast. He’ll always be my little baby though.”

 

“How’d he get in your band?” Sam asked. 

 

“He’s my cousin. When our drummer had to quit a few years ago, he asked if he could do it. He put so much effort into learning, I wasn’t gonna say no. He’s a fucking brat to his parents but he’s always been well behaved for me, so… Whatever,” they shrugged. “Where’d the other two go, Babypop?”

 

“Johnny’s working at seven tomorrow, he wasn’t feeling comfortable enough to be driving, so Kitty took him back home.”

 

Sam tilted their head. “Don’t they live together?”

 

Danny shrugged. “Yeah, but they squabble a lot. Kitty’s definitely made him walk home before if he pissed them off the right way.”

 

“Careful what information you’re spreading there, Babypop, she’s only ever done that while the buses are still running.”

 

“Oh shit really?” Danny turned to Ember.

 

“They live like… fifteen or twenty minutes away, I think?”

 

“I never noticed that. I just know Johnny complains about it.” 

 

Ember laughed. “Haven’t you learned not to take anything he says at face value, yet? He’s so over dramatic. I adore him.” She pulled the hairpiece out of her hair, dragging their hand through blue strands. “Enough about work. How’s Surprise Me Boy doing?” 

 

Sam huffed a laugh, surprised. “Surprise Me Boy? Is that Tucker?”

 

“Is that his name? I never remember!” 

 

“He’s doing fine. He’s finally got his computer set up the way he likes it, and he’s been having fun streaming again. Danny’s been on a few streams too.”

 

“They’re fun!” He interjected.

 

“Aw that’s nice, you’re having fun together!” Ember ruffled Danny’s hair. “How have you been doing, Sam?” 

 

“I’ve just kinda been pushing through school.” They shrugged. 

 

“Booo! I don’t wanna hear about school,” they groaned. “What are you doing when you’re not in class? Clubs? Hobbies? What’s your down time look like?” 

 

Sam’s gaze flicked over to Danny before settling on the door handle off to the side. “Um… I don’t really do a whole lot. My neighbor’s been coming over. They cook with my boyfriend, it’s always really good.” 

 

“Ooh that’s fun! Do you cook with them?”

 

“No, not really. My mom kinda traumatized me so I leave all the cooking to Tucker most of the time.” 

 

“Oh shit. Okay… um…”

 

Sam cleared their throat. “I don’t mind talking about it, it’s just, my mom was trying to mold me into this perfect little housewife? And the more she pushed the more I resented everything she had taught me. So I don’t really like cooking anymore.”

 

“Dysphoric huh? I used to be that way with my hair. I always cut it super short because I wanted to stand out and be different. I didn’t want people to think I was just another average girl.” She pulled their hair over her shoulder and started braiding it. “But when I went to college, one of my best friends, Desiree, she’s a professional hairdresser now, I lost a bet, and she made me grow it out so she could style it for me. It was crazy. Growing it out was uncomfortable, I felt like I was introducing myself to all these people who’d have no idea that I wasn’t normal. And I hated that.” She tied off her braid with a small sigh. “But she did it for me. Washed it up, dyed it blue, cut it, styled it. All at her fricken house, over her kitchen sink, chatting over lunch and nail polish.” They smiled, eyes closing and head tilting up towards the sky, lost in the memory. “I felt so seen. So incredibly alive. I loved my hair. It’s smooth, and bright, and beautiful, and I loved having it long, braiding it, styling it, clipping things in it. I didn’t have to renounce the stuff that I liked just to be unique. The way I liked my hair was different enough. The things I do to it, the accessories I use in it. I used to dress more like Kitty. More grunge, loose stuff, just trying my best to not fit the mold. Look at me; now I’m such a punk slut. And Spectra doesn’t get it, but the important people do. If I were acting like anybody else but myself, I think my coworkers would throw a fit and demand Ember come back.” They threw an arm around Danny’s shoulders, squeezing him against her side before letting him go. “All that to say, if you hate cooking, that’s chill. But if Sam likes cooking, don’t let Sam’s Mom tell them no. Ya feel me? Don’t let beating the norms get in the way of you being yourself.”

 

Sam nodded, enraptured by the story. “I don’t think I ever got to tell you this. But maybe a little more than a month or so ago, you had been talking about gender versus presentation versus pronouns, and it really stuck with me.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah. I’ve been testing out non-binary ever since. I feel like it just fits better.”

 

“Pronouns?”

 

“They them, I think.”

 

“Shit!” Danny dragged a hand through his hair.

 

Sam narrowed their eyes, “What?”

 

“I’m so fucking sorry, Sam! A month!? Did you tell Tucker? We’ve been misgendering you the whole time. I didn’t know!” His voice cracked. 

 

Their eyes widened. “I hadn’t come out to anyone. I was still thinking it over.”

 

A tear slipped down his cheek. “Oh thank fuck-”

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine!” He brushed it away. “I’m just still drunk and stupid and this isn’t about me. Ignore me.”

 

Ember turned towards him. “You’re right. It’s not about you. But this reaction doesn’t fit the situation, Babypop. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

 

“I’m drunk. I’m overreacting. Please, Ember.”

 

“Was it something I did?” Sam asked. 

 

“No! Not at all!” He wiped his eyes on the back of his hands. “I was just… scared for a second. I thought maybe you weren’t comfortable coming out to me. That maybe you asked Tucker not to tell me. Which is fine! To be clear! But… I just want to be a safe space for you. And… I told you already, I’m fucking drunk. It killed me to think maybe I wasn’t safe for you.”

 

Sam couldn’t resist the urge. They didn’t respond to him. They just wrapped their arms around him, tucking his head against their shoulder and squeezing him tightly. “Relax, Ghost Boy. I know I’m safe with you. Thank you.”

 

 

---

 

 

“You told Danny first!?”

 

“You men are so fucking selfish!” Sam laughed. “Why is my coming out all about your feelings!?”

 

“I said I was sorry!” Danny groaned, hiding behind a pillow.

 

“We’ve been dating for years!”

 

Sam leaned into their boyfriend’s shoulders. “That’s just how it happened, Tucker. If it makes you feel better he’s only known for an hour longer.”

 

“We live in the same apartment, Sam. We sleep on the same bed!” He held a hand over his chest in mock offense. 

 

Danny put the pillow down. “Sorry, Tuck. Everyone knows trans guys are the best people to come out to first.” 

 

Sam blinked at him. 

 

Tucker groaned loudly. “Not you too!”

 

“Danny!?” Sam gaped. 

 

“And I told both of you at the same time!” He laughed. 

 

“Unfair!” Sam shouted. “This was my coming out! Why the fuck are you trans!?”

 

Danny laughed so hard he rolled off the side of the couch.

 

“What the actual heck is happening anymore?” Tucker hid his face in Sam’s hair. 

 

“If it makes you feel better, Sam, I told you guys before I told any of my family.” He sat up from the floor, leaning his head against the couch cushion.

 

“Phobic?”

 

“Yeah… Definitely my mom and dad. Not sure about my sister. Haven’t talked to her in a while but. It’s whatever.” 

 

“You should reach out to her, man,” Tucker suggested. “You won’t know unless you ask.”

 

“How am I supposed to find her? I haven’t been able to contact her since she started college.”

 

Sam blinked, they pulled out their phone. “Dude what’s her name?”

 

“Jazz.” He sighed. “Jasmine, actually, but we never-”

 

“HelpingJazzHands. Some random college info, interning at Deep Roots Counseling. ‘Cultivate your own garden of life.’ Is this her?” Sam flipped her phone around, showing off the profile to Danny. “It’s private, I’d need her to accept my request in order to see more.”

 

“How did you-” Danny reached out for the phone, tenderly taking it from Sam’s hand. 

 

“You’ve never looked her up on any social media?”

 

“I deleted all my accounts…” he whispered. “Holy shit… Could you, I don’t know, text this to-” his phone buzzed in his pocket. “Oh fuck-” he handed Sam their phone back, fumbling around with his own. “My phone's on silent, who’s emergency calling- oh fuck, I forgot-”

 

“Is everything okay?” Sam sat up on the couch. 

 

“It’s already three…”

 

“Danny?”

 

“Sorry guys!” He pushed himself up off the floor, bumping into the coffee table as he tried to stand. “Thank you both! It’s been a great night!” 

 

“Dude!” Tucker pushed himself up off the couch as Danny rushed past them, holding the phone up to his ear, and opening the door.

 

“Dash, I swear I’m in the building, I’m on my way up the elevator right now-”

 

Their door clicked shut at the same time a chair toppled over in the apartment above them. 

 

“What the fuck!?” Sam looked up at the ceiling, then back to Tucker. “What the actual fuck!?”

 

“Has he been up there the whole time? I didn’t hear anything before,” Tucker breathed. 

 

“I wasn’t paying attention I was talking to my fucking friend-” Sam seethed. “This is fucking insane. We have to do something!”

 

“Do what!?” Tucker dragged a hand down his face, dislodging his glasses. “What are we supposed to do?”

 

“There’s gotta be something right? We can call someone?”

 

“Who do you wanna call? The fucking police?”

 

“Fuck no! Like- I don’t know! Is there an abuse hotline or something?”

 

“For concerned neighbors?”

 

“There’s gotta be something!” Sam pulled their hair. 

 

“Fuckin… -inally! …u long enough!”

 

“Sorry D…! -ut at -ar.”

 

“It’s three… morning Fenton. …re the fuck- ..ou?”

 

“I ju- …d we wer… …he bar-“

 

“…ich one?”

 

“The Zon… Em- …ng a set, so we-”

 

“-Zone clos… -t one.”

 

“…e were chatti… -terwards-“

 

“…you -re chat-? Some- …anted to chat with…  -ore than two hours?”

 

“Ye- …re-“

 

“Who’d yo… -o hom… -ith!?”

 

“What?”

 

“Wa… -hnny?”

 

“Wha-  …ou talking about?”

 

“Who took you home Fenton?!”

 

“What are you on right now?”

 

“Don’t pull that shit on me! You come home late and now you’re gonna get on my ass? Watch wh… -he fuck you…”

 

“Is this fucking coke!? Where the fuck did-”

 

A clap. Skin on skin.

 

“Shut it, Fenton!”

 

“Das… -u can’t keep- OW- let go of me! That hurts- Dash!!”

 

“Tak… -ese off”

 

“Wh- …e fuck? No! It’s thre… morning, I ne- to sleep!”

 

“You don… -ork tomorrow, I -eady check… -ur schedule.”

 

“Dash, cut it out!”

 

“You don’t get to go fuck all your coworkers witho… -ving me an-! Take these off!”

 

“I wasn’t fucking anyone! We were talking!”

 

“Don’t fucking lie to me! It’s three in the morning and your shift ended at ten!”

 

“Dash WAIT!”

 

“I said take them off!”

 

“Thi- …s drugs tal-ng! …o snap out of it!”

 

“Who are you hanging out with every night!? Are you letting all of them have their turns!? It’s every fucking night with you, Danny! Whose house are you going to! Who’s buying you dinner!? Why are you coming home with fucked up hair, smelling of beer, half dressed- WHO are you f- Are you seriously on your fucking phone right now!?”

 

“Y… high a- fu… -ight now! I’m go-ling co… -sshole!”

 

The clatter of Danny’s phone hitting the floor. 

 

“Hey! W… the fuck!?”

 

The clatter of Danny’s body hitting the floor.

 

It was quiet.

 

There were a few murmurs above them that Sam couldn’t quite make out.

 

Eerily quiet. 

 

For a moment.

 

A whimper of sorts.

 

Then another beat. 

 

Movement.

 

Rustling. 

 

Whimpering.

 

Then,

 

Danny screamed.

 

Short. 

 

And loud. 

 

And painfully.

 

“You need to stop! Dash please! It’s not you!”

 

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up!”

 

“Dash!!”

 

Crying.

 

…

 

Crying.

 

“D-Danny-” Tucker’s voice cracked.

 

“Fuck this.” Sam pushed themselves up off the couch, storming past their boyfriend on the way to the door.

 

He followed them with his gaze, though his body was frozen. “Sam! Where are you going?!”

 

They glared over their shoulder. 

 

Tucker usually hated that look.

 

“Upstairs.”

 

 

---

 

 

 

Notes:

CW: Drug Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Sexual Assault, Gays Falling in Love, Emotional Whiplash

Notes:

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And check out my Invisobang Partner, KC/13thCat!!