Chapter Text
Sunlight seeped in through cracks in the blinds, casting horizontal beams of sunlight across the hardwood floor. The ceiling fan spun quietly, a blurred disk of movement, fanning the boy who lay on his bed, blanket kicked off and shirtless. He felt too exposed in a pair of shorts, so despite the heat, he wore a loose pair of grey sweatpants, untied strings draped across his abdomen. There was a soft knock at the door.
“Come in,” Ralph rasped, turning to face the source of sound.
It creaked open, and lively brown eyes met his own, which he knew where probably red with groggy sickness.
“Hi dovey,” his mother greeted, pushing the door open with her foot. She carried a tray, now placing it gently on his nightstand, “how’re you feeling?”
Ralph sat up slowly, pulling the blanket over his thighs, “Could be better.”
“You look it,” she agreed, preening his hair from his forehead, pressing the back of her hand against his cheek, “You’re really burning up,” she said, “you shouldn’t have gone out in the rain like that.”
She picked up the tray again and set it on his lap, “He-who-must-not-be-named’s mom made this for you.”
Ralph scrunched his nose up, but picked up his spoon and took a bite of the chicken noodle soup anyways. After a moment, he couldn’t help but smile at the comfortable warmth settling in his chest, “It’s amazing.”
“I’ll tell Mrs. Merridew you like it,” she stood up, “I have to go to work now, are you sure you’re fine here? I can call Simon or Peter over to keep you company.”
Ralphs eyes widened, “No,” he shot instantly, “you didn’t tell them I’m sick, did you?”
She rolled her eyes, “No, I didn’t,” she sighed, “but I don’t understand why your so persistent on keeping it a secret.”
“Simon’s frail as a twig,” He shoveled a spoonful of soup into his mouth, “and colds make Peters ass-mar a hundred times worse.” He put the spoon down and took a drink of his tea, “so I don’t want to get them sick, if they knew I was they’d be all over me tryna help me feel better.”
His mother smiled, a sort of sadness touching the corners of her crows feet, “You’re a good friend, Ralph, but you don’t have to do everything alone like this,” she insisted, “we could invite the twins over.”
Ralph shook his head, “I’m really fine, mum,” he waved a dismissive hand, “You’ll be late for work, I love you.”
She leaned down and kissed his forehead, “I love you too, dovey.”
“Bye.”
“Buh-bye.”
The door shut quietly. A few seconds the later, the A/C kicked in, vents blowing cool air from the ceiling and settling onto his face refreshingly. She’d known he was too hot, so she’d turned down the thermostat before she left. Sometimes Ralph wondered if he deserved a mother like that.
Ralph gazed at the slits of light dancing across his bed sheets. He felt lonely now, even after denying company so many times. His friends had texted him earlier, two days ago when he’d missed school.
‘Are you okay? Simon told me you didn’t show up today.’
‘On suspension, got into another fistfight with Jack.’
It was a fat, pathetic lie, but the only thing his sleepy mind could come up with. It wouldn’t have been the first time anyways…
‘Did you win?’
A joke question, Peter had a tendency to down play his little scuffs with the redhead since they happened so often.
‘You bet.’
He laid back into his pillows, arms and legs sprawled across the crinkled white sheets. Sometimes he liked to go over his own profile, like a mental checkup confirming he was still a person.
Ralph Foley, seventeen, blue eyed, blood type O, dirty blonde, five foot nine, etc.
He rolled over and gazed at his alarm clock. Everyone should be getting out of school in about a half hour.
There was a sharp ping, and he shifted to grab his phone from underneath his pillow.
It was a text from Jack.
‘Where are you’
Light panic set in, but he took a deep breath and calmed down. He obviously couldn’t use the same excuse (blatant lie) he’d told Peter. Jack might’ve already found out, considering he probably prodded Simon into telling him anyways.
‘We got into another fight so I’m on suspension’
Ralph could practically hear him scoff, ‘you at home?’
There was a pause.
‘I already know your bullshit lie so don’t tell me you’re at the hospital getting stitches’
Ralph sighed. Loudly.
‘Yeah I’m home’
‘Did you like the soup?’
Ralphs stomach flopped, ‘why do you care?’
There was a very, very long pause until Jack sent, ‘I skipped classes to stay at home today to help mom make it, that’s why’
Ralph cast a skeptical glance at the empty bowl before he turned back towards his phone, ‘you’re kidding’
He’d tried to imagine a brute like Jack Merridew staying home to help his mom make the best soup he’d ever drunk in his life. He couldn’t. He felt kind of sick again, but perhaps that was just from trying to comprehend the incomprehensible.
‘Well?’ Jack asked.
‘Well what?’ He asked back, the little bubble of text barley registering to him as a question.
‘Was it any good?’
Ralph gave a nervous giggle before he promptly shut off his phone and threw it to the foot of the bed.
“Welp,” he chirped, “I’m tired.” He laid back down, this time putting extra effort to kick all his blankets off the edge of the bed before he forced his eyes shut, the exhaustion of sickness swallowing him up into an afternoon nap.
-
A distant knocking pulled him from sleep, confusing haze having him think it came from outside his own room. When he realized it was the front door, he groaned, sprawling out on bed for a tired moment before sliding off and padding to the front of the house.
He unlocked the deadbolt, “Go home Simon, I’m fine,” he opened it, stared out, then promptly shut it, re-locking the door.
“Open the goddamn door and let me in,” Jack groaned, “It’s freezing as fuck out here.”
Ralph stood there with his forehead pressed against the painted wood, contemplating whether or not he should call his mom to tell Jack to go away.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine. Everything’s fine,” He murmured quietly to himself before unlocking the door and swinging it open, “Jack,” he drawled, “what a pleasant surprise.”
Merridew stood there, head tilted tiredly, still tall as the devil and layered with a red jacket, a black windbreaker, a varsity beanie, a dark blue scarf and oven mitts, hugging a covered metal pot close to his chest.
“My moms making me bring you more food.” He shoved the pot into his chest, “I’m coming in,” he declared as Ralph balanced the burning pot handles between bare hands. He tried to avoid running, hurriedly placing the pot onto the stove. He made a pained noise, shoving his hand under the cold faucet to subside the burning.
Jack fell onto the couch, grumpily pulling the oven mitts off and using his hand to rub warmth back into his nose and cheeks, “Cold as hell,” he muttered, looking up to Ralph, “Was fistfight really the best you could come up with?”
Ralph crossed his arms, leaning on the back of the couch, “I was pretty sure you wouldn’t care.”
Jack shrugged, “You’re right, I don’t.”
“So…” Ralph gave him the sideways-look, “what’re you doing here?”
“It’s cold and I don’t want to go back out there yet?”
Ralph sighed, pushing off the couch to go back to the kitchen, “Half truth half lie,” he said, opening the pot with a bowl in hand, “ooh, lo mein.”
“Dads home, don’t like dad, Rogers house is locked and I hate the cold, mom made food, one thing leads to another and now I’m here,” Jack said as if it were obvious, “happy?”
Ralph passed him a bowl of food, “uh huh,” and sat on the other end of the couch, crossing his legs as he chewed idly.
“You left me on read,” Jack pointed out, “like a dick.”
Since when did Jack care if Ralph left him on read? They barely texted each other, and when they did, most of their conversations ended with one or the other being left one read anyways, so why now?
“It was really, really good,” Ralph admitted, too tired to argue or deny, “This is too,” he took another bite, “m’ starving.”
Jack sleepily took another bite, “Mom had me in the kitchen all fucking day,” he groaned, “She wants us to be friends again, I think.”
Ralph gave a small laugh, “I think it’s working,” he leaned back and stretched his arms over his head, “I almost don’t want to kick you out.” When he looked back to Jack, ice blue eyes flickered up to meet his gaze, head tilted curiously while his shoulders had scrunched up ever so slightly.
“Were you checking me out?”
Jacks hands went to his lap as he leaned back, “No.”
The corners of his lips where pulled into a grin, “You were,”
Jack stood abruptly and went to the TV, turning on the PlayStation as he muttered, “You wish I were.” he picked up a controller and tossed it to the couch and took his own, “We’re playing Cave Story now.”
Ralph took the controller hesitantly, “You remember that?”
Jack scoffed, “of course I do.” He took off his scarf, coat and jacket, throwing them onto the armchair, plunking down besides him in a ratty black tee that donned the Neighborhood Wiped Out! album cover, the picture fading with wear and age, “We where little kids then, which was probably why we never managed to finish the game.”
Ralph queued up the old platform game, “Uh, okay, that makes sense I guess, but I lost all the data when we got a new console.” What the fuck? What was happening?
Jack only shrugged, “We’ll just play through the entire thing again.”
Wh…?
Ralph crawled across the couch and leaned into the crook of his neck, tentatively sniffing his clothes. The freckles of Jacks cheeks disappeared with the reddening of pale skin, “Um, what the fuck are you doing?”
Ralph placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning closer, then withdrawing slightly, “You haven’t been drinking, have you?”
Jack pushed his face away, rubbing the side of his neck uncomfortably, “No, I just… don’t let this go straight to your ego, but I don’t like, actually hate being around you- I mean, I know I act like it, but something my mom said’s just been… sticking with me and that goddamn picture…” his words faded to a frustrated whisper, hands slipping down to his controller, thumbing the handle and his voice rose again, “I should be on edge or… or angry right now, but I’m just… not.”
Ralph gazed at him for a moment. Jack was acting odd. Was this vulnerable puppy act a trick? Ralph bit his lip and stood up, “I’m getting a shirt, I‘ll be back.”
Jack released a relieved breath as he slumped into the couch, “Thank you.”
As Ralph pulled the loose fabric over his head, he wondered what Mrs. Merridew could’ve said to shake her son so badly. He was being weird, nice even.
He scratched his chin as he picked up his phone from the foot of his bed and opened the texts between him and his mother.
‘Can you give me Mrs. Merridews number?’
His mother responded instantly with the number, then, ‘what for?’
‘I need to thank her for the soup.’
‘Good, love ya’ dovey.’
‘Love you too.’
He hit the number and added it as a contact then texted her, brows knitted in thought.
‘Hi, this is Ralph, I got your number from my mom.’
When there wasn’t a respond immediately, he put the phone in his pocket and went back to the living room, where Jack had already opened the game and was looking at him expectantly, “Ready?”
He sat down besides him, controller in hand, “Yep.”
-
Somehow over course of the last few hours, they’d shifted close enough so that their knees and thighs where pressed together, shoulders touching as they focused on the game, “No, no, no, jump, jump up, you son of a- use the vents, don’t let it corner you or you’re fucked,” Jack instructed.
They where now fighting a large frog boss, the same one they couldn’t beat as kids, “Watch the little guys, keep them off me while I use the missiles.”
“M‘Kay.”
After a few minutes, they managed to kill the boss, arms thrown up in relieved victory, “Holy shit,” Jack breathed, “six years and it’s finally over.”
Ralph tipped his head to the ceiling and groaned, “Oh my god, I can’t believe it took that long.” Now mentally exhausted, Ralph leaned his head on the others shoulder, “That was awesome, it sucked, I hate you, you were great.”
Jack tensed under his weight, “I…”
Ralph caught the notion Jack was uncomfortable, so he pulled away with an, “Oh, sorry.”
Jack looked down at his controller, “Oh, no, it’s fine I just… it caught me off guard was all.”
Ralph catching him off guard? Usually it was the other way around, with the after school ambushes and such. Remembering that, how was he so easily able to look at Jack and not see the delinquent he’d been but as the old friend he was? Ralph fiddled with the ties of his sweatpants, “Oh… well, sorry anyways.”
There was an awkward silence.
Ping.
Thank God.
Ralph checked his phone. It was a text from Mrs. Merridew, but he was only at six percent.
“Um, I gotta check this message and charge my phone, wait for me?”
Jack nodded slowly, “Yeah, got it.”
He plugged the device in and sat on the edge of his bed, a little zap of electricity flying through his chest and he read the message, already planning out his next words.
‘How’re you doing Ralph? Is the food good? Is jack still there? I’m getting worried about him…’
‘Jack’s here, we’re just playing video games. The food was great, thank you so much, you didn’t have to do that for me.’
‘It was no problem, Jack and I enjoyed making it :)’
Ralph paused, reconsidering his words before typing, ‘This might be personal, but Jack’s acting a little… weird, started rambling a little and mentioned that you said or showed something to him, do you mind if I ask what?’
It was a little while, but she sent an image. It was small and grainy, obviously a photo of an older photograph. He looked closer.
It was two little kids, him and Jack, actually.
‘It’s probably a little embarrassing for him, so you probably shouldn’t tell him I showed you this.’
Ralph was dumbstruck as he stared at the glowing screen in the darkness of his room, listening to the distant themes of Cave Story playing in the background.
It was a picture taken from a few steps back, as if the camera was whipped out and put back before the subjects of the picture could notice.
Orange mulch and metal swings surrounded the boys who’d been playing at the park together as their moms conversed behind them. The red headed one had taken the blondes hand in his own, covered in dirt yet still clean in their eyes.
He took his hand, leaned in and kissed him.
It was that moment the camera had captured. A moment that years of childhood forgetfulness and growing up had erased from his memories.
Nearly erased, that is.
-
“Aww, Jacky,” his mother cooed, drawing both of the boy’s attention, “That’s so sweet!”
They stared at their awestruck mothers for a moment, hand in hand, frozen in place like a pair of deer in headlights.
Jack yanked his hand away and pushed him. Ralphs back met the ground, mulch poking into his hands as he pushed himself up, only to see that the redhead had run away, his mother trailing hurriedly behind him in an attempt to catch him before he got lost.
For some reason, Ralph started crying then. Hot tears left wet trails on dusty cheeks, a large chunk of mulch still grasped in one hand as if making up for the loss of warmth that was there. Ralph threw it down on the ground. He hadn’t even said ‘tag’.
“Well, I don’t want to be friends with you either!”