Chapter Text
The smell of the rink— manufactured ice, rubber pucks, and sweaty boys— there’s nothing quite like it. There especially isn’t anything like it back at Camp Wawanakwa.
Icebergs? Sure.
Rubber? Plenty of tires!
Sweaty boys? Everywhere.
There’s a lot that summer camp didn’t have like home does, but there’s also tons missing from home that Wayne would be lying if he said he didn’t miss. Like all the cool friends they made in Total Drama Island, and the fun challenges and games they played together while there.
Raj is a bit more broken up about the whole thing than Wayne, since Bowie doesn’t live anywhere near them. The only people from the show who live close to them are Zee and Damien, if you count a few hours by truck as ‘close.’
Summer break ends in one week. It’s back to school after that. Senior year. Who knew they’d be famous for reality TV before they became famous as pro hockey players?
The final episode of their season hasn’t aired yet, which means they’re under contract to keep their lips sealed tight. Some professional looking people in suits advised them to keep to themselves and their families until the finale aired, which gave Raj and Wayne the perfect opportunity to binge everything that came before it.
Raj’s older sister and mom already watched everything the moment it aired, and Wayne’s little brothers are too young to watch the show, so their marathon of nine episodes is done how they do just about anything; alone together, team Wayne and Raj.
They bunker down in Wayne’s room with popcorn and boxed protein shakes, enough to last them at least five episodes before a bathroom break. They’ll restock for the second half.
“Eheh,” Raj giggles, the third time he’s done that since Bowie appeared onscreen.
Smirking, Wayne elbows his side suggestively.
“Looks like the camera doesn’t add ten pounds to this guy, eh?” he jokes.
“Are cameras capable of that?” Raj asks.
Wayne shrugs, “Some of them, right? Special effects and movie magic? Still, Bowie looks like a star, doesn’t he? Gonna print pics of him for your locker?”
“No! Maybe!” Raj laughs, flushed red, and shoves his shoulder into Wayne’s, spilling some of the popcorn from their bowl.
Wayne grabs the fallen pieces, one between each finger, and tosses them into his mouth. Around smacking lips he says, “I’ll help ya tape them up before first period. Gonna miss all those pictures of Jarome Iginla, though.”
“Jarome can stay! Um, in the back, maybe.” Raj pokes his fingers together, giggling nervously to himself. “Bowie’s already my lock screen, and wallpaper, and we have matching profile pics on MySelfie Gram now. You saw it, right? It’s from when we kissed in that one episode— the next one, actually! You wanna, uh, unpause and continue our run?”
“Your lock screen?” Wayne huffs, caught up on loose threads, overcome with the urge to pull them free. He fishes his hand under Raj’s thigh, searching for his phone. After a fair bit of squirming and confused protest from his friend, Wayne retrieves the device and presses the power button.
On the cracked phone screen is a selfie of Raj and Bowie conjoined by the hip in front of a campfire, a pair of glossy lips puckered against his buddy’s cheek.
It’s cute.
It’s very sweet.
Heartwarming.
But… it used to be Wayne there.
Not that he’s jealous. He’s just— he’s surprised! They’ve been each other’s phone lock screens ever since they’ve had phones.
Raj must love Bowie a whole lot to break tradition— twice, because his wallpaper is also a selfie with Bowie, when it used to be a picture of their hockey team after placing second in nationals.
Wayne had a black eye in that picture, and Raj had a bloody lip. They looked awesome.
Bowie looks awesome, too! Bowie is awesome. So awesome, he almost won a million bucks.
“You must be super psyched to be dating him, huh Rajie?” he chuckles, tossing the phone over Raj’s lap back onto the bed.
Raj rubs his cheek, again with the nervous laughter. It’s twinged with giddiness this time.
Wayne would tease him over it, but it doesn’t feel appropriate at the moment.
Yeah. Not the vibe. Totally. He can read his buddy like a white board during a water break— which is to say perfectly. He’s a pro at strategy. You don’t name a guy captain if he can’t talk strategy!
Wayne resumes the episode with a press of a button, crosses his arms, and snuggles back into his pillows, chin tucked into his chest.
Raj takes that as his cue to do the same, hugging the nearly empty popcorn bowl and reclining. He leans against Wayne’s side, head on a broad shoulder, fluffy hair tickling the bristles of a freshly shaved beard.
They always do this. They’ve always done this, so Wayne’s super duper relieved that Raj doesn’t feel uncomfortable around him now that he’s out and dating another dude. And he’s even more glad that Raj doesn’t think Wayne is uncomfortable with it. Because he could never be weirded out by his best friend, and he would never replace him. Obviously! So why even think about it?
Why does anyone think about anything?
Whoa, totally deep. Zee would love that quote.
Near the end of the episode, after they’ve both cringed and winced through a reliving of their injuries, Wayne mutes the credits and ruffles Raj’s hair.
He asks, “So, when’re you going on that date, eh? Any plans to meet up?”
“Probably never, dude. He lives across the country,” Raj grumbles, tapping his phone screen to see a lack of incoming texts. “My mom won’t let me go see him before the school year starts. I think she’s even more overprotective than before since we got all busted up.”
“But we survived! And you only lost two teeth. That’s way less than you’ve lost in the rink.”
“Right?! It’s unfair!” he groans, throwing his head back onto the pillows.
Wayne joins him, hitting the pillows with a fwomp!
“Totally unfair, bro.”
Turning his head, Wayne faces Raj, a devious smile forming; the kind that curls when his brain is storming and a new brilliant prank is brewing up. Wayne’s head is a cauldron of delicious, soupy ideas.
“Let’s go anyways,” he whispers.
Raj’s face flies towards him, eyes wider than an owl’s.
“Really?” he gasps.
Suddenly excited, Wayne nods.
“Yeah, we’ll take my dad’s truck to the train and catch a ride! You still have money saved up from last summer’s ice cream gig, yeah?”
Raj shivers at the mention, but affirms, “About four hundred bucks, maybe.”
“Perfect! Let’s go tonight. Right now, before anyone grows suspicious.”
Wayne rolls out of the bed and lands on all fours, then springs towards his closet and the pile of clothes in the far corner. He begins sifting through them and tossing any that smell like stale laundry and mothballs into the open space, leaving any sour smelling jerseys deep in the closet.
“Half of this stuff is yours, I think, so we don’t even need to stop by your house!” he exclaims and begins shoving the ‘clean’ articles into an empty old duffel bag.
“You mean we’re really just— running away?” he hisses, nails flying to his teeth and gnawing.
“Nah, cause we’re comin’ right back in a few days,” he snorts.
Raj can be a bit dramatic sometimes. They’re not fleeing the country. It’s going to be a boys’ trip! Summer break is for partying, kissing cute people while you’re drunk, bobbing for hockey pucks in the lake, and borrowing your dad’s truck to cross country.
“I’ll grab our toothbrushes and stuff!” Wayne says and drags their bag to the bathroom down the hall.
His little brother, Jake, pokes his head out of his room with a half empty bottle of pop and asks, “Where are you going?”
“Somewhere,” Wayne retorts and flicks the cap off the bottle. “Why are you drinking pop before bedtime, stinker?”
Jake squints and purses his lips.
“I take back my question if you take back yours.”
“Deal.”
Wayne shoves him back into his room and closes the door, then treks into the bathroom and collects the essentials.
My buddy is gonna be so happy! He’ll go on a date with the love of his life and I’ll be the one who made it happen! This is awesome, Wayne thinks to himself while grinning.
His grin only slightly falters when he reenters his room to see Raj rocking on the edge of his bed, phone pressed to his ear, shoulders shrugged to his jawline as he giggles and kicks his feet.
“We’re coming all the way to you! I know!” he squeals. “Can we crash on your couch? Or we could build a fort and all sleep together on the floor. Me and Wayne used to build pillow forts all the time when we slept over at each others’ houses! But then he got that hip injury in seventh grade and couldn’t sleep on hard surfaces unless he was sitting up straight, so we just sleep in the same bed now because using that much athletic tape to stick him to the wall was wasteful and my mom gave us an earful about it.”
“Talkin’ to Bowie, eh?” Wayne chuckles, but Raj doesn’t hear him, or see him even when he waves a hand over his face.
Too swept up in the romance of a star-crossed lover. Wayne can respect it.
They really need to pack and go, though, before Jake snitches and they get grounded for conspiring a temporary prison break.
“Uh, hey Rajie, can’t you call him when we’re on the road? We gotta get moving, bud. We’re gonna miss the cutoff.”
“Right, Wayner! Yeah, totally!” Raj says, jumping to his feet, still hunched towards his phone. “I’ll call you back when we’re on the road, Bowie! I’m so excited to see you, hehe! I mean— I love talking to you on the phone and sending pictures, but I want to kiss you again! If you want to. If you— oh, yes! Yes, okay, I’ll hang up. Yeah, I’ll be safe! I’ve got Wayne here!”
Wayne opens his mouth, but Raj cuts him off, happily unaware.
“Bowie says hello, Wayne!”
“Uh!” Whatever Wayne was about to say disappears like a candle in the wind. He calls, “Hey, Bowie! See you later, eh? Don’t sweat over us. I’ll lead these owls to victory, safe and sound!”
“Hoot hoot!” Raj cheers and ends the call.
Wayne glances at his open bedroom door, sweat rolling.
“Aw, man, we better hurry, dude. If anyone heard us, they’ll know we’re up to something.”
“Nothin’ good,” Raj snickers, high on adrenaline. He shoulder checks Wayne, gleaming. “Let’s get out there, captain! Spread our wings and fly! Hoot hoooot!”
“I didn’t get to pack any snacks!” he hisses, throwing the bag over his shoulder and slamming the light switch on his wall.
Raj takes the handrail down the stairs, sliding across polished wood and double-stomping the landing.
“Ten points, Rajie!” Wayne laughs, taking the stairs in three’s, landing next to him, eliciting a much louder thud.
“Wayne!” yells his father from the living room over the sound of the game. “Pick up some milk and bagels if you’re going out, eh!”
“Sorry, Dad, we’re staying out late!” he yells, sifting through the bowl of key rings by the front door.
From the kitchen, his mother shouts, “We agreed no rink until school starts, Wayne! Your injuries haven’t fully healed and the doctor said any more stress could cause permanent damage!”
“M’not going to the rank, Ma!” he groans, eyes rolling.
“Then where are you going?” she asks, head poking out around the corner much like Jake had from his room.
“Out,” Wayne repeats, pushing Raj towards the exit. “See ya! Love ya!”
“Bye, Mrs. Cooper! Thanks for dinner!” Raj waves before he’s completely shoved into the outdoors.
“Be back before midnight, Wayne!”
Wayne slams the door, only very slightly guilty about the orders they’re about to disobey. Surely Ma will understand if it’s for the sake of love, right?
“To the truck!”
Wayne leads, and Raj is on his heels skipping across a scuffed concrete driveway.
They used to play street hockey out here in the summer with pvc pipes, tennis balls, and a vivid imagination before Raj’s mom finally agreed to let him join a real junior hockey league team and enter the rink.
The lawn is where they played tag, wrestled, and threw frisbees, and also puked into the bushes when Wayne hosted his first ever high school house party while his parents were on vacation and they drank way too many different types of alcohol mixed into a single pitcher.
It’s been a while since they’ve had a good wrestle sesh, but the doctors’ orders were to avoid all rough housing and strenuous physical activities for at least two months once healed. Wayne doesn’t know what ‘strenuous’ means, but anything he does he does to the extreme, so it’s probably safe not to do anything in that case.
Driving doesn’t count.
Speaking of driving, Raj taps the location he plugged into the GPS and blinks worriedly at Wayne, looking for guidance.
“Says here it’ll only take a day to get to Ontario from here if we drive. Are you sure we need to catch a train?”
“Well…” Wayne scratches his neck.
Train tickets for two probably cost more than a few tanks of gas. Plus, the sooner they can get Raj to Bowie, the less trouble they’ll be in when they get back home. Unless it’ll be the same amount of trouble no matter how long it takes them to return? Will their parents be more mad about the fact that they left, or how long they were gone for?
“We could take turns driving, if you’re okay with that, Rajie!” he shrugs and shifts the truck into drive, then rolls into the street.
Raj gulps, tugging the collar of his snow owl sweatshirt.
“Y-yeah! No biggie, bro. We’ll split fifty-fifty.”
“One hundred hours? I thought it would only take a day,” Wayne wonders.
“It should only take twenty four!” Raj taps the GPS screen, brow furrowed. “Yeah, see? Twenty four hours and nineteen minutes! Twelve hours each.”
“Ooooh. Twelve-twelve.”
“Twelve-twelve! How did we almost fail math? We’re acing this!”
“Don’t sell us short, Rajie. We got solid C’s in that class. Mr. Vin was just hating on our vibe, yeah? What sort of jerk bans laughter from his classroom?” Wayne switches the radio to the media option and slaps Raj’s arm, glancing over at his phone. “Put on something good, man.”
“I’m gonna call Bowie back real quick first,” he says, face illuminated by the selfie they took after the finale, practically drooling over it.
“Er, alright.”
Wayne returns both hands to the steering wheel, drumming his fingers, popping his lips to a song that is only playing in his head.
The night has already beaten the light of day into oblivion, which means they’re beaming the road with headlights and only going ten over the speed limit rather than twenty. A long stretch of asphalt leads them to a horizon of mountains, hills, and blinking stars.
Alberta’s a real beaut’ in the evening, especially with the windows rolled down and a road trip playlist blaring at an unhealthy volume. They’ll get to that second part when all the butterflies in Raj’s stomach flutter out of his mouth.
They’re going to have to switch places eventually, but Wayne will stay awake and resilient for as long as possible for Raj’s sake. His poor bud doesn’t do well driving the truck, especially to places he’s never been before. He can manage a trip around the block or two, but anywhere beyond their city’s borders stresses him out big time. Better to let him drive during daytime to lessen the stress he’ll go through.
Or… they could always stop on the side of the road for a quick nap, maybe even find a motel just to crash long enough for Wayne to grab a wink. Sleeping in the truck is no biggie, but Wayne wouldn’t be lying if he said he preferred sleeping in a bed somewhere with four walls and ceiling instead of a random field by the interstate.
He’s a pretty flexible guy, but falling off a cliff after losing a fight to an overgrown bird leaves some aches that don’t agree with leather car seats. If he wants to be in his best shape for this year’s season, he’s gotta be responsible with his body and treat that baby like a temple!
“He went to the hospital with a concussion and a broken nose, but he turned out fine! Some of the girls said he looked better, too, since his nose was all crooked before, but the hospital lodged it back into place and it healed straight. So really, he should have thanked us! Right, Wayner?”
“Huh?” Wayne glances over, realizing he’d been in a daze. It’s an empty road, at least. “Are you talking about Keith Campbell?”
“Yes, dude!”
“Oh, yeah, Keith was suuuuper pissed after that one prank, but he had chicks lining up down the hall just to sign his neck brace the day he came back, so we helped him out in the end! I’m the ultimate wingman, aren’t I?”
“You are!” Raj agrees. “He’ll come around someday, yeah? Oh?” He turns his attention completely towards the muffled voice on the phone. “No, yeah! He’s still on the team. ‘Leave the grudges on the sidelines!’ Our coach always says that. Not even Keith would let a prank between the boys get in the way of winning big. Wait, really? Your own teammate tried to sabotage you during a qualifier? That’s crazy!”
Wayne listens on and off to the conversation he’s not exactly excluded from, but certainly isn’t being fully included in. Is it considered eavesdropping if it’s happening in your own truck? Well, your dad’s truck. Same difference.
Raj doesn’t care if Wayne listens in to his conversations! They’re best friends, and best friends share everything— eventually, all in due time, when the moment arises.
Unless conversations with boyfriends are no-no territory. Are boyfriend conversations more secretive than girlfriend conversations?
Wayne let Raj in on every girlfriend conversation, which many girls did not seem pleased by, but if they can’t handle the power of an unbreakable team then they don’t deserve the package deal anyways! If Bowie doesn’t want the combo meal, does he truly want the single?
Huh.
Maybe Wayne’s been going about this all wrong.
If Raj is dating Bowie, then the hierarchy of relationships has changed. It’s a pyramid, like the food groups. Now that Raj has found the love of his life, he’s been lifted to the peak of the mountain, while Wayne is stuck in the sturdy middle foundation.
If being the stabilizing structure of the building is what allows Raj and Bowie to enjoy the view from the top, then Wayne doesn’t mind carrying all that weight by himself. Not one bit. That’s what best friends are for; lifting their buddies on their shoulders so they can see the stage.
But when Bowie isn’t even here, then there’s no need for Wayne to show off his piggybacking skills, right? It can just be the two of them enjoying each other’s company like they always have? Or is that selfish?
If Wayne found a bang-up chick he was head over heels for, he wouldn’t expect Raj to sacrifice anything in their relationship to make room for her. That’s never happened before, and Wayne has dated plenty of great girls.
Surely the reason they all broke up with him wasn’t because he prioritized his best friend over them, right? There must be some other flaw Wayne can’t recognize within himself.
Maybe he’s due for a journey of self discovery, too, like Raj! Except, he’s not gay. There’s gotta be something else.
Maybe he’s a girl?
Nah. Wayne shakes his head. I love being a dude too much to be a girl.
What if he’s not into any gender?
But girls are so hot. His nose scrunches. I definitely like banging babes. Maybe I just haven’t found the one yet! Yeah, like, my own personal girl Bowie. Someone I love hard enough to replace Raj.
Conflicted, he frowns.
But no one could ever replace my best buddy. And Raj hasn’t… replaced me. I’m still his best friend. Bowie is just more important than me, because he’s Raj’s boyfriend and future husband for life. Best friends for life can’t compare to soulmates.
Well, that’s depressing.
Is the era of Wayne and Raj over? Is it time for Wayne to be drafted onto a different team? After a lifetime of being Raj’s other half?
“Wayne?” asks Raj, leaning over the center console, phone tucked into his chest. “Are you okay?”
“Peaches,” he answers, immediately flipping his frown upside down. “You done talking to Bowie?”
“Um, no, but I can be if you want to jam out! I didn’t realize how long the call’s been going. Sorry!”
“All good, bro.” Wayne punches Raj’s arm, faking a grin he feels guilty about having to force. “Wouldn’t it be more fun to tell Bowie all of this in person? Save the juicy bits for later, eh?”
“You’re right! That’s so smart. Hey, Bowie—!” Raj speaks into the phone. “Wayne and I are going road trip mode. I’ll text you any big updates, okay?” He nods, and hums, and nods. “Yeah, uhuh! Yup! I, uh, love you! As friends. I always say ‘I love you’ before hanging up the phone. I’m not being weird, I promise! Oh! That’s not weird? O-oh! Okay! Yeah! I love you! Bye!”
Finally, he ends the call.
Wayne releases a breath he didn’t realize was trapped in there.
“I just told him I love him! Should I have done that? Over the phone?!” Raj stresses, struggling to slot the charger into his phone’s port.
“You always say that over the phone.”
“I know!” He groans, then scrolls through their music playlists. “Do you want rager music or stuff we can classily head bob to?”
“Hit me with anything, Rajie. I trust your music taste.”
“‘Kay, check it.”
Raj starts the music, which Wayne has to dial up the volume a few ticks to even hear. It’s not a song he recognizes, and after a couple minutes of listening, he decides he’s not a big fan of, either.
“Where, uh, did you find this artist?” he asks through a smile, guessing he already knows the answer.
Cluelessly, Raj beams, “Bowie recommended them! Aren’t they good? Turn it up!”
“Yeah, bro!” Wayne agrees and fights all reluctance in his body in order to raise the volume even higher.
“Woohoo!” Raj howls halfway out the passenger window, hands cupped around his mouth. He yells, “I’m coming home, Bowie!”
Wayne’s hands curl a bit tighter around the wheel.
“Wayne!”
“I’m awake!”
He startles, righting the steering wheel and swerving back into their empty lane on an empty road.
The sun has been up for thirty or so minutes now, and Wayne is doing his best to blink away the worst of the crust that’s trying to form like cobwebs under his eyelids.
Bowie’s music selection was a dull lullaby that definitely wasn’t helped by the fact that Raj has been texting on his phone nonstop and providing very little conversation to keep Wayne stimulated.
He didn’t have the heart to tell him to change the music, and he definitely isn’t going to stop his bud from texting the person who brings a smile brighter than winter snow to his face.
“Maybe you should stop so we can sleep,” Raj suggests, unsure of himself.
“We? Sleep? Stop?” Wayne blinks harshly at the rising sun. “We don’t need to stop. Twelve-twelve, remember? I’ll take the back seats and you take over behind the wheel for a bit.”
“Um, about that.” Raj scratches his neck, too ashamed to make eye contact. “I was so busy texting Bowie I forgot to sleep, so I’m not going to last behind the wheel either.”
“Bro,” Wayne sighs, his entire body sagging in disappointment.
“I’m sorry! I swear I’ll drive after we both nap!” Raj pleads, shaking his clasped hands. “There has to be a rest stop nearby, right? I’ll pay for all of our food and gas!”
“It’s fine,” Wayne yawns, waving him off. He rubs his eye. “Save your money for your first date, eh. I gotcha covered Rajie.”
“Really?” he gasps, sparkling. “You’re the best, Wayner!”
“Yeah, I know,” he chuckles.
They pull off the road at the first sign of civilization, which is a motel and diner advertising burgers, coffee, and beds. It’s perfect.
“Hyup,” Wayne grunts, tossing the duffel bag from the back seat over his shoulder.
Raj fidgets with the car keys behind him, hitting the lock button several times while the car beeps in confirmation that the doors are secure.
A bell rings above them in the motel lobby. The clerk behind the front desk snubs their cigarette in an overflowing ashtray. Wayne does his best not to breathe in too heavily.
“One room, please!” he huffs as charmingly as he can manage so low on sleep and energy. Not to mention he has to wicked piss right now.
“Fifty for one room, one night.”
“We’ll be gone before the sun sets,” he affirms and slaps three twenty’s on the counter.
The clerk deposits change and a room key in his open palm, then directs them to the south side of the building where their room on the second floor awaits them.
“I need a shower,” Wayne groans once inside their room.
The bag has been tossed to the bed, his boots have been kicked aside, and his socks are somewhere by the wall. Raj’s shoes and belongings shortly follow in finding a random spot in the tiny room to be strewn aside.
There’s a single bed, a TV stand without a TV, a lamp, a fan that looks two loose screws away from falling directly onto the bed, and a bathroom with a shower just wide enough to fit half of Wayne’s arm span.
He beelines for the bathroom, tossing off every article of clothes on the way.
“I’ll go buy us some snacks for the road while you’re in the shower,” says Raj, sifting through Wayne’s shorts for his wallet and the cash inside it.
“If they have Twizzles, buy two packs.”
“Gotcha!” Raj jingles the keys above his head as he waves. “Bye, Wayne! See you in a bit!”
“See ya,” he mutters, too drowsy to raise his voice anymore.
The door shuts, locks, and Raj’s footsteps fade, replaced by the lax flow of the shower head.
One deep exhale later, Wayne drenches his face in lukewarm water, scrubs soap into his hair and all over his body, and tugs a few knots out with his fingers.
It doesn’t matter if the bed is uncomfortable, filled with bugs, or too small to fit two huge jocks; Wayne is going to hibernate.
For as long as Raj lets him, that is. He can probably make it another twelve hours with only four hours of sleep. Who knows if his bestie will have the patience to give Wayne any more than five or six hours of rest?
A rumbling stomach pulls Wayne out of the shower and towards the bed, an itchy towel wrapped loosely around his hips. He digs through shirts and shorts for anything crinkly or solid, maybe a lucky granola bar that snuck its way in, or even a piece of candy in one of his pockets.
Nothing.
“Wuhhhh,” he whines, sinking to his knees, clutching his stomach weakly.
It’s never smart to go to bed hungry, but Wayne is about to pass out from hunger and deprivation. The bed doesn’t feel terrible, either! He could fall under just like this; half naked and dripping wet onto the floor, knees burnt by the cheap carpet below.
He hopes Bowie can cook, or knows all the good places to go out for food around his home. Even if Wayne has to go alone while Raj is having the best day ever, he will if it means eating a big hearty meal.
Protein, pancakes, and syrup. That’s exactly what Wayne needs now more than anything.
“I’m back!” Raj announces, slamming the door open.
Wayne slumps in relief, face flat in the bed’s comforter.
“I got Twizzles, chips, pop, water, and fries!”
“With my money?” Wayne mumbles.
“Huh?”
“Thanks, Rajie,” he says to him, ignoring his previous complaint. “Toss me some fries?” he asks.
Instead of tossing them, Raj places the carton of fries on the bed in front of Wayne, who crawls properly onto the mattress and takes the fries to the headboard with him. He reclines on the pillows, shoves a fistful of fries into his mouth, and sighs deeply through flared nostrils.
“Mmmppffgh,” he moans.
“Good, eh?”
“Na’ really.”
He offers some to Raj, and two fries enter his friend’s mouth.
Raj hops into bed next to him, chewing and deliberating, before swallowing and stating, “Decent five out of ten. Not bad for a diner in the middle of nowhere.”
“Mm.”
Wayne focuses on chewing and swallowing without falling asleep. He’s fallen asleep while eating before, and it never goes well. Usually ends with a slap to the back and a wad of poorly chewed food being launched from his throat onto the floor. That’s if he’s lucky.
Raj has been pied in the face with mouthfuls of food, and he’s learned to keep his mouth closed and his body angled out of Wayne’s line of sight when awakening him mid snack.
Tossing the empty carton aside, Wayne stretches to his full length, then rolls onto his side and shuts his eyes.
“M’gonna grab a wink,” he slurs.
Raj shifts beside him, and the bed sinks, causing them to slide closer together. A warm puff of air hits Wayne’s brow.
“I’ll sleep, too. Here, get under the blankets. You’ll get cold without any clothes on.”
“Have a towel,” he argues, but follows Raj’s unspoken instructions to get the blanket out from under his body.
Raj cuddles up next to him in their blanket cocoon despite Wayne practically being in the nude. It isn’t weird when it’s two bros, even if one of them is gay. Maybe it’s less weird now that one of them is gay and the other isn’t.
They’ve never had to ‘no-homo’ their way out of uncomfortable situations before since they’ve always been such close friends. Most guys aren’t secure enough in their masculinity to be like Wayne and Raj, which is why Wayne and Raj make the best pair of best friends in the world. They’re the unbeatable duo in hockey, friendship, and self confidence.
Even if phone screens change, and music playlists shift genres, one thing will never ever fade; their awesome unbreakable bond.
Nothing will ever come between them, no Bowie’s, no boyfriends or girlfriends— nothing.
“Night, Wayne,” Raj yawns, wiggling into the concave of Wayne’s torso.
“More like morning,” he mumbles contentedly, nosing Raj’s fluffy hair tufts like preening feathers. “Nocturnal. Owls.”
“Us!” Raj agrees, on the same wavelength, far too chipper to flip off like the Wayne switch. He squirms and adjusts, searching for the most comfortable position, but Wayne is used to Raj’s bedtime routine of wiggling so he’s able to easily drift into a deep, warm, cozy sleep.
He wakes to the evolution of wiggling and squirming, which is jostling.
“Wayner, Wayner, Wayner, Wayner—!”
“I’m up!” he hollers, slapping Raj’s insistent hands off his shoulders. Groggily, he rubs his eyes, rakes fingers through his hair, then throws his pillow square into his friend’s face. “What’s the rush, Raj?”
“It’s been long enough, let’s get back on the road!” he whines, shoving the pillow back into Wayne’s chest hard enough to topple him over. He pins Wayne to the bed, bouncing excitedly as he speaks, “I bought an energy drink for ya, too, so you can make the last stretch in one shot! I promise I won’t bore you this round.”
“You weren't boring me, buddy,” he lies, slightly.
It wasn’t Raj who was boring him, it was the combination of his boyfriend’s taste in music and the fact that he’d already been awake a full day before they embarked on their trip. The factors weren’t in his favor.
He grabs Raj’s wrists and attempts to lift him, but Raj has gravity on his side and forces himself onto Wayne, grunting with the exertion of sitting himself on Wayne’s stomach, nevermind that he’s butt naked.
“Didn’t you want me to get up?” he asks, trying to twist himself free.
“Yeah, but I gotta win, first.”
“You already pinned me on my back!”
“Is that a quitter I hear?!” Raj gasps, and his feigned shock morphs into a devilish grin. He follows the momentum of Wayne’s arms as they flail to break free, never surrendering the force of his grip for a second. “You can do better than that, Wayner! Show some spirit!”
“I’m showing spirit!” he yells.
Seeing no other escape on the peripherals, Wayne decides to use his head for what it’s best at; bashing. So he headbutts Raj square in the diaphragm.
“Agh!” Raj wheezes and slips.
Wayne uses the opening to bulldoze Raj fully and knock him off the bed.
“He’s over the ropes!” he cheers, then stands on his knees on the edge of the bed and slaps his elbow, winding up for the big one. “It’s time for the people’s elbow!”
“No, anything but that!” Raj cries, laughing. He holds up his hands in a useless defense, but doesn’t scurry to safety. Truly, the bravery of a real man lies before Wayne.
But he will not show mercy. Raj deserves a dignified death.
“Rahhh!” Wayne howls and drops from the bed, slamming his arm across Raj’s lower stomach.
They both experience a plethora of pain, one from the blunt guillotine, the other from the rug burn of a cruddy carpet on every exposed bit.
Raj coughs and hacks up spit to the side, curling into the point of delivery. Wayne, meanwhile, hisses and rubs the rashes forming on his burnt skin. They pause to nurse their wounds. Then, as soon as the pain subsides, they burst into laughter and clutch one another for balance, cackling into shared smiles.
“Another point for Wayner!” Raj exclaims, lifting his clenched fist to the skies to catch the glory and applause of the crowd.
“Thirty to twenty-six, eh!” Wayne says, thus updating their win-to-loss ratio in his own favor.
“I’m gonna grab a quick shower. Eat something and get dressed while I do,” says Raj as he stands and slaps Wayne square between the shoulders.
“Aye-aye, Co-Captain!” Wayne salutes.
Then, he does as his friend commanded and eats some chips, drinks half an energy drink, and finally pulls on a fresh(ish) pair of clothes. Nothing too crazy, but nothing sloppy either. They’ll be meeting Bowie at the end of this rainbow, after all. Wayne can’t show up looking like a mess and embarrassing his boy!
Raj steps out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam much like Wayne had; naked except for a single small white towel.
For some reason, Wayne reflexively shies his gaze elsewhere. Just doesn’t feel right to go looking at a naked, taken man— a decade of friendship and locker room showers be damned.
Raj is a spectacle of a man to behold, but no longer to be held by his best friend. Those chiseled back muscles are all Bowie’s now. No room for Wayne’s strictly platonic appreciation.
That’s okay. Just because Wayne can’t do a ton of things he used to with his best friend doesn’t mean there’s nothing they can’t do together. Admiring his bro’s biceps is an acceptable loss.
Still a loss, though.
Raj dresses, Wayne shoves their belongings into the duffel bag, and they both wince at the angry buzzing coming from their phones.
“Uh oh,” says Raj, wincing at his phone screen, showing several missed calls and texts from his mother.
Wayne does the same, checking his notifications for angry messages. His parents aren’t nearly as overprotective of him as Raj’s mother is, so the only text he has is one from his mom lecturing him about staying out past midnight without giving a heads-up.
She probably thought he went over to Raj’s house last night, which definitely isn’t the case anymore now that Raj’s mom is freaking out. The first place either of their parents call when their son is ‘missing’ is the other son’s house. Considering they never hang out without each other, it’s a safe bet!
Since Wayne considers himself an overall decent son, he texts his mom not to worry about him, and that he’ll be back before the school year starts with Raj in tow and the truck in one working piece.
She doesn’t respond by the time they’re back on the road, but Raj’s mom has been lecturing him on the phone nonstop enough for two runaway boys.
Mrs. Addams likes Wayne, somewhat. At least, he thinks so. She must like him a bit if she lets him hang out with her son every single day. He’s practically like a second son to her, just like Raj is an extra son in the Cooper family!
Both families were practically obligated to adopt one another’s sons once Wayne and Raj became best friends at the tender age of six. They found each other at the perfect time in life; old enough to develop their own Yin and Yang, young enough to seamlessly combine them.
If Wayne hadn’t found Raj, who even knows where they’d be ten years down the line? Certainly not on the road to meet Raj’s first ever boyfriend.
Without Wayne, would Raj have made a friend supportive enough to make him feel comfortable in his identity? How long would it have taken for him to smile again after his dad passed? Would he have broken out of his shell and found a passion for hockey? What would he have done this summer instead of Total Drama Island?! Studying?
Thank God they weren’t stuck studying. Really dodged a bullet there. See that? Ain’t nothing a Wayne and Raj friendship can’t make better!
“I know, I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry! I know.”
Raj has been stuck in an apology loop for five minutes now, which means they’re near the end of the call. Another five minutes of groveling and they should be free.
“I love you,” Raj says, his voice tense, and Wayne doesn’t hear the sentiment repeated by his mom. Either she said it quietly or not at all.
Regrettably, Wayne will bet on the latter. Mrs. Addams has a tendency to be really strict when she’s upset, which means withholding her love from Raj until she’s forgiven him. It’ll happen eventually.
Until then, Raj ends the call on a sour note, sniffling and sinking into his seat, phone tossed into the back seat.
“Cheer up, buddy, me and Bowie will tell you we love you twice as much to make up for it,” Wayne says and shakes Raj’s arm. “I love you, bud!”
“Thanks, Wayne,” Raj sighs, staring avoidantly out the window at passing scenery.
Wayne doesn’t have to sneak a look at his reflection to know there are tears in his eyes. They’re both quick to cry when emotions get heavy, but Raj especially. He’s always way more sensitive when he thinks he’s disappointed someone, or when he gets in trouble.
That’s why Wayne is here; to carry him past the victory line when his ankle twists. When they win, they only do it together. That’s the code.
Wayne doesn’t mind breaking rules and being a bit of a trouble maker, but Raj does, so Wayne tries his best to behave. His naturally carefree nature was a much needed breath of relief to Raj’s rigid upbringing, which would explain why Mrs. Addams only likes Wayne a bit instead of a lot.
It’s necessary to have fun, though! Even if that means driving all the way across the country on a whim to do so. Raj’s mom should be happy he found someone he loves enough to break the rules for, Romeo and Juliet style. They had the greatest love story of all time! Doesn’t she want the same happy ending they had for her son and his boyfriend?
She’ll come around. Sure, she’s been even more abrasive and demanding since Raj came home from Total Drama Island injured and out of the closet, but it comes from a place of love. She’s, like, the opposite of Wayne’s parents.
See? They fit so well together that even their parents are perfectly balanced. Two sides of the same scale.
“Are your parents mad?” Raj asks quietly, scratching under his chin, turning his skin red.
“Prolly not,” he shrugs, smiling. “You can hide at my house once we’re back, no biggie.”
“I think that would make my mom even angrier.”
“Then I can hide at your house for moral support. I can still fit under your bed if I suck in really hard.”
“Are you sure? I think you’ve bulked up since the last time we tried shoving you under there.” Raj slaps Wayne’s chest, smirking. “Can’t suck these pecs in, bro. This is solid muscle right here!”
“You know it, baby! Solid steel!”
Raj laughs, which is all Wayne needs to hear to be happy.
Just to provide a bit of extra comfort for Raj, and maybe a bit for himself, too, Wayne holds Raj’s hand on the center console for the rest of the drive, only ever separating for the essential snack breaks or tricky road maneuvers. That’s not something he’ll get to do for a while, so he savors all twelve hours of it.
Bowie’s house is in a small neighborhood in Toronto.
But the house? It’s huge. Like, Wayne’s house has two stories, but this house is huge. There’s a big front lawn, and a gate, and maybe four stories? An attic? There’s a basement, too, according to Raj. There’s even a little fountain in the lawn for birdies. How fancy!
Considering it’s past 10:00 PM, it’s no surprise that the neighborhood is dark, and the only lights turned on in Bowie’s house are on the first floor.
Bowie is waiting outside for them before they even pull up to the driveway, having been texting Raj nonstop as soon as they entered city borders. He directs Wayne to park at the left edge of the driveway (the driveway is huge, too, and can fit about three cars in its width) and approaches Raj’s side of the truck.
Raj rolls down the window, grinning.
“Good evening, boys,” says Bowie, standing on his toes to deliver a peck to Raj’s lips. He crosses his arms on the door and leans inside the truck, feet dangling in the air. “Hey, Wayne. You look ready to pass out on a king sized bed. Long drive?”
“So long,” he sighs happily, face planted on top of the steering wheel. “Worth it, though.”
“And you didn’t do any of the hard work?” chides Bowie to Raj, grabbing his cheek and tugging. “Tut tut, Rajesh! It was Wayne’s idea to drive here, too. Where’s your initiative? I might start to think Wayne is the one madly in love with me.”
“I have initiative!” Raj gasps, “And I’m the one madly in love with you! I mean, at least, I am when compared to Wayne. I love you more than Wayne does! I’m sure he does love you, of course not as much as me, but—“
“King sized bed,” Wayne moans, already drooling. “Me want king sized bed.”
Chuckling, Bowie slides to the ground and opens the passenger door, flooding the car with overhead lights. That wakes Wayne up enough to get him on his feet as well. Just a few more minutes until he’s pillow-bound.
While pulling their duffel bag from the back seats, Wayne hears a thud and then a burst of giggles. Peaking around the trunk bed, he spots Raj and Bowie on the lawn in a heap of tangled limbs— and lips. He watches them make out in the grass, then stops himself.
While he loves seeing Raj get some much deserved action, some people apparently consider it ‘voyeurism’ to peep the show. Which is ridiculous, because Wayne isn’t even registered to vote yet.
Still, he grants them some privacy and trudges to the porch. If he weren’t just sitting for twelve hours straight, he would collapse on that comfy looking swinging porch chair and call it a night. Honk, shoo, mimi; the whole nine yards.
“Are you too tired to give me a hug, mister chauffeur?” asks Bowie, tapping Wayne’s shoulder to get his attention.
“Me? A hug?” he asks, wiping away the drool that was forming on his lip.
“Yes, a hug.” Bowie rolls his eyes, arms open wide. “We’re friends, too, aren’t we?”
“Sweet!” Wayne cheers and tosses the bag aside, immediately replacing it with Bowie, who he lifts from the ground and twirls in circles.
Despite looking like a sassy stick bug, Bowie is pretty heavy. Nothing Wayne can’t handle, but heavy. Must be all that muscle, and the gracious centimeters of height he has over them.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Bowie says. He pats Wayne’s head as he’s placed on the ground, then clasps his hands together, head cocking to the side. “Shall I give you a tour?”
“Maybe we wait until tomorrow, eh?” Raj suggests, slipping his arm around Bowie’s waist effortlessly, like it was meant to be there all along. “Wayner’s running on fumes, and not the funny kind. I’m kinda sleepy, too. Maybe we can, um, you know…”
“Do I know?” Bowie purrs, gleaming. He scratches under Raj’s chin, turning his knees to jelly. “Are you suggesting something, Raj?”
“Um. I mean. If you want— we can— cuddle!” he squeaks.
“Sure!” Bowie chirps. He ushers them both towards the entrance. “Let’s cuddle. Sound good, Wayne?”
“I love cuddling with Rajie,” Wayne murmurs. He yawns, nodding, but not yet nodding off.
“I’m sure I will, too. In you go. That’s it. Down this hall. Stay quiet; my parents are asleep.”
Shoes abandoned by the door, they tiptoe their way into the house. Bowie leads them to his room, which is in the basement.
It’s a big basement, and very well decorated.
Wayne’s basement is where they throw all their holiday decorations and old furniture his parents swore they would donate but haven’t gotten around to in years. It would be a cool hangout spot if everything wasn’t covered in dust.
But this basement— Bowie’s room— is incredible, much like the man himself. It’s very bright, for one. Wayne counts three lamps, and that’s only the ones currently shining.
The walls are different colors. Three are the same; a solid creamy orange, and one of the longer walls is covered in wallpaper and posters with a funky black and white design.
There are shelves full of trophies and medals, mostly for sports, though some look like they’re for fashion shows, or something like that. Wayne will give them a closer look when he can open his eyes fully.
Also in the room that’s notable is a big desk with a towering mirror surrounded by light bulbs, like the ones in the movies for the makeup department, or that one they had in the old season of Total Drama Action.
His bed is ginormous, too. A king’s bed for a king— and queen— and also Wayne, who falls flat on his stomach and groans into the softest blanket he’s ever felt in his life.
“I could roast this over a fire,” he moans.
“Like a marshmallow?” Bowie asks, sitting next to him and crossing his legs. His hand lands on Wayne’s head, removing his cap, tossing it across the room onto his desk chair, and running his fingers through slightly greasy blonde hair.
“Feels nice,” Wayne sighs.
“I’m sure it does. Unfortunately, you can’t sleep yet.” Bowie tugs his hair, lifting Wayne’s face from the indent of a content smile forming in his mattress. “You need a shower before I let you anywhere near my pillows.”
“Noooo,” he cries.
“Just a quick rinse! I’ll even warm it up for you.”
Bowie releases his hair, and he faceplants. It’s a very pleasant faceplant.
The other man stands, nudges Wayne’s side until he rolls onto his back, then smiles proudly over him.
“Thank you, Wayne. I promise you’ll be rewarded for your good behavior with breakfast in bed. How does that sound?”
“Amazing,” he says yearningly, already drooling again.
“Come on, bro. Let’s hit the showers,” says Raj, throwing Wayne over his shoulder.
They take a quick shower in Bowie’s bathroom— also huge and fancy, with room for more than two, like everything else— and step into the bedroom still dripping wet, but ready for bed.
Raj is wearing a pair of Wayne’s sweatpants, and Wayne forgoes pajamas in favor of his underwear. He didn’t pack any pajamas because he doesn’t wear any. Hopefully Bowie doesn’t mind.
Bowie, meanwhile, changes into silky shorts and a thin tank top, and some sort of ribbon thing on his head.
Wayne catches Raj staring at the exposed skin of Bowie’s thighs, and covers his mouth to hide a chuckle. His friend is down bad. If they’re not careful tonight, someone’s going to wake up getting poked.
“Finally!” Wayne exclaims, belly flopping into the center of the bed. “Good night!”
“Wayne!” Raj laughs, shoving his shoulder. “You can’t hog the whole bed. Where are me and Bowie gonna sleep?”
Wayne snores very loudly in response.
“Let’s throw him up the stairs,” says Bowie, grabbing his other shoulder.
“Up? Is that even possible?”
“We’re two very strong athletes, Raj. I’m sure we can make it possible if we work together.”
“Haha, yeah! Anything’s possible together. Because us— we’re good. Together. You and me!”
“Don’t throw me up the stairs if I’m not awake to enjoy it,” Wayne says, crawling towards the pillows where the bed meets the corner of two walls. Once again he flops, this time on his back and far from the center of the bed.
Raj crawls in next, placing himself directly beside Wayne, like they always do and always have.
Bowie remains standing next to the bed, hands on his hips, lips pursed.
“What’s wrong, Bowie?” Raj asks, still squirming on the search for the best position.
“Nothing’s wrong. Just strategizing.”
“Nice,” Wayne says, even if he’s not sure what there is to strategize. Doesn’t matter. He loves a good game plan.
He yawns again and wraps his arms around Raj’s stomach, on the cusp of sleep until Raj makes an uncomfortable sound and wiggles away from Wayne.
“Huh?” he slurs, forcing his eyes to open higher than halfway.
“Sorry,” Raj whispers, and gives Wayne a look he can’t decipher. Which is weird, because Wayne knows every look. Can he blame the drowsiness on this one? Maybe he filled his skull with too much water.
Bowie turns off every lamp before returning to the bed and rolling in, welcomed by Raj’s anxious giggling. The two boyfriends poke and paw at one another, whispering and snorting, progressively scooting further away from Wayne the more they talk.
The bed is comfortable, but suddenly feels chilly. It’s supposed to be summer. Is the AC turned low? Is Wayne in a cold spot? Whatever it is, it’s not a big deal.
Wayne once fell asleep in a pile of snow, and it took his brothers and Raj two hours to find him. He didn’t even get a cold, just hypothermia. After a cup of hot chocolate and an evening by the fireplace, he was as good as new! He’ll survive this, especially with plenty of fuzzy blankets to wrap himself in.
He falls asleep to the sound of hushed conversation, just like he used to on the couch when he was a kid and his parents let him sit and watch television with them until the late evening. He always woke up in his bed the next morning— until one day he didn’t, then never again after that.