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Red Alert could admit this about himself: he didn’t have a lot of experience in friendship. His own personality could be generously described as ‘high-strung’ and less generously in many other ways, but the end result was that he was usually left alone. To be fair, he usually preferred it that way, as the world already had so many things to consider as potential dangers without adding another person into the mix.
However, in defiance of previous expectations, Inferno did not leave him alone. After their meeting from the ‘accidentally’ triggered fire alarm, suddenly it seemed like his neighbor was everywhere, and despite Red Alert’s overactive nerves, they were… getting close, maybe even friends. Friends! With his neighbor! That until semi-recently, he was only vaguely aware of! Rung would congratulate him and say this was positive growth. They walked through the park together, got coffee when there was a free moment—Inferno didn’t even comment on how he diligently checked his coffee order or how precisely he added his sugar, just patiently waited—and there was already some discussion about getting something to eat together.
After careful deliberation to make sure he wasn’t overthinking things (well, anymore than usual) and that Inferno was sincere, Red Alert let himself—maybe not quite relax, but enjoy the feeling of it. Friends. That was nice. Less complicated than he expected, and nothing else could or would complicate it.
The complications he had been afraid of arrived when Inferno brought him his coffee before he left for work, made just how he liked it, and Red Alert accepted it—and started drinking—without hesitation. The action didn’t even register until he was at his desk and the cup was partially empty, which is where Prowl found him, still staring down at it in absolute shock.
As far other people that Red Alert could stand to work with on a regular basis, Prowl was alright. Other employees had reported him ‘too cold’ or ‘hard to get along with’, but Red Alert found his logical approach to things reassuring. If he brought up a security concern, no matter how other people might deem it ‘outlandish’ or a ‘waste of resources’, Prowl would either make a plan to deal with it, or present a well-constructed argument against it. That said, Red Alert wouldn’t accept a morning coffee from him, but also Prowl wouldn’t offer in the first place.
“… Is there something wrong with your drink?” Prowl’s voice sounded further away than the door, and Red Alert blinked again to make sure the cup really existed. Still there.
“I took it and drank it.” He half-mumbled to himself, slowly looking up at Prowl’s impassive expression, “Inferno got me my coffee and I drank it.” Silence blanketed the office again as Red Alert contemplated his coffee and Prowl contemplated this new information.
“You two are… friends, correct?” Another point of solidarity between them was the often mystifying territory of personal relationships. Red Alert jerkily nodded in response, and Prowl took a deep breath, a clear sign he was going through any and all information in his mental library. “Then… is there something wrong with him bringing you coffee?”
“No. Yes. No, but maybe there should be, if it wasn’t Inferno who gave it to me.”
More pondering.
“I would say that this…” Prowl began slowly, brow furrowed, “… Proves what I said before. Accepting and drinking the coffee he got you means you consider him a friend, as you wouldn’t do that for someone you weren’t close to and trusted.”
Hearing the logic from someone else, outside of his head that was prone to suspicion and overthinking was… reassuring. Someone else could see the flow of reasoning and agreed with him. Although, usually Red Alert would be suspicious of someone looking too closely at his thought process—perhaps, following the same logic then it meant: “… Prowl. Are we friends?”
“… Ah?” That definitely caught him off guard, and Red Alert could practically see his mind abandon whatever train of thought it was on to suddenly focus on the new query. “… I don’t know if we would get coffee, but…” Prowl absently tapped his fingertip against his chin, considering his words carefully, “I like to think we are close. I appreciate your diligence and work ethic, especially covering security concerns that I might miss in my own planning.”
The feeling of camaraderie in his small office felt more awkward than Red Alert had thought it would, and he quickly grabbed his cup to gulp down the remaining coffee as a distraction. Obviously doing the same, Prowl shuffled the papers he had been carrying, clearing his throat and returning to his all-business work mode.
With the mystery of the morning solved (and already feeling exhausted from it), the day continued, almost alarmingly mundane and regular compared to the discovery of personal friendship it had started with. Even so, the idea of being… friends was nice. Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible.
The complications did not stop at just the coffee, unfortunately for Red Alert’s sanity. Before getting to know Inferno, his interest and interactions with the local fire stations began and ended at making sure the fire codes of any and all buildings he was in for any amount of time were all up to date. Charity events the stations appeared at, presentations, and other public appearances were taken note of and filed away with the rest of the background noise of his life—and there was a lot of noise, considering how many things tripped his anxiety.
That is all to say: yes, he was aware the fire stations put out yearly calendars. Yes, he was also aware the themes of said calendars tended towards an… acceptably risque nature. Its existence was barely a blip in his radar, until, like many things recently, Inferno changed that.
“It’s a little embarrassing, but they asked me to be in the calendar this year.” He explained, smile slightly bashful as they walked to one of the (few) coffee shops that Red Alert approved of to make his (very simple, impossible to get wrong) order (and one of the few places that the baristas were willing to ignore his intense stare over the counter to watch them make it). Red Alert managed to not choke as he registered his words, covering it up with an awkward swallow that, thankfully, Inferno missed as he continued, “… Asked me to be one of the summer months too! I guess since I’ve been doing a lot of the community work for the stations and all, but it’s kind of fun! Do ya’ think they’ll let me choose a theme for the picture?”
Red Alert’s brain tended to betray him in many ways; today, it (un)helpfully reminded him, with great clarity, his first actual conversation with Inferno was when the man was only dressed in his boxers because of a falsely pulled fire alarm in the middle of the night. Thankfully, he was saved from answering when they finally arrived at the coffee shop, and Inferno stepped forward to hold the door open so Red Alert could enter first, and any mention of the upcoming calendar was left to the side as Inferno coaxed him into talking more about himself.
However, it remained at the edge of Red Alert’s thoughts, haunting him throughout the day and night when there was no more work to distract him. He knew, objectively speaking, Inferno was attractive, perhaps even Very Attractive, in capital letters; he had a kind smile and a brave personality, exactly the type of person you would want in an emergency situation, reassuring people it was going to be okay. He was also tall and well built, as Red Alert’s own eye could attest to, making his friend, as the saying goes, “the whole package.”
The reality of these facts were not comforting to Red Alert, and he found himself hunched over his laptop after dinner (supplied by Inferno, who insisted he always cooked too much and Red Alert needed to take it off his hands), making his way to the page for the damnable calendar that had been plaguing him.
The page was already up for orders, though there was no preview pictures of the interior images considering how early it was, just a list of featured crewmen and a jaunty paragraph saying the proceeds would go to local charity organizations.
Red Alert stared at it.
It was only a few days ago he had realized he truly was actual friends with Inferno, but had it reached the level of madness of this? The late hour and the heady realization of true friendship must be getting to him, because, almost in a trance, Red Alert found himself moving the cursor over and pressing ‘purchase’.
The light of day did not absolve him of his lapse in judgment, instead his email (one of many) letting him know his order for the local fire station’s upcoming calendar was confirmed. Featuring one crewman named Inferno (his friend) as a summer model.
This must be what going insane feels like, he thought morosely to himself, staring at his reflection as he brushed his teeth, There’s no reason for me to be so… so… bent out of shape about this. Friends support each other, and the calendar is in support of the fire station and admirable causes. That well-considered reasoning did not stop his reflection slowly turn red, nor did it stop him from thinking about the calendar that would be on it’s way soon. But it was under control, and once it was in his possession, he could store it away and put it behind him, marking it down as just a small quirk on the road of friendship.
Time continued on; Inferno managed to get Red Alert to agree to more outings, an unexpected pile of work was dropped into his lap when another department did something stupid which then forced him and Prowl to put together a solution as quickly as possible, and in the end, Red Alert managed to more or less put the calendar out of his mind. Inferno only brought it up once more, just to say it looked like the station was going to have a good donation, before moving onto his next self-imposed challenge (convincing Red Alert to go to the movie theater with him). In fact, when a square, flat package was left by his door, he managed to smoothly pick it up, set it on his table, and proceed to ignore it for several days.
He couldn’t hold out mentally hold out forever, and that meant, when the clock ticked over to a new week, he was possessed by something again and sat down, hands sweaty, and opened it. It looked remarkably normal for something causing him so much grief; the cover was a group picture of the fire station crew, and Red Alert’s eye immediately found Inferno’s smiling face in the back, obviously posed there thanks to his height. The typography design wasn’t anything outstanding, perfectly serviceable for a charity fundraiser, and Red Alert tore the plastic wrap off before he lost his nerve.
The pictures inside were about what he expected, and he flipped past the early months to reach the middle; Inferno hadn’t specified which one he was, so Red Alert would have to look at each one himself. Steeling himself, he swallowed hard and flipped to May.
No luck, it was someone he didn’t know. Exhaling loudly, Red Alert slumped a little, and flipped to June. “Stop it.” He muttered to himself, “Stop working yourself up over this. You’ve already seen him shirtless, this isn’t a big deal.” The universe had it out for him specifically with a very personal sort of spitefulness, because it was only after centering himself did he look down at June’s photo and get knocked sideways by Inferno’s bright smile and bare chest.
After inelegantly wheezing and coughing, clearing out whatever he had choked on in surprise, he warily returned to the calendar. Technically speaking, the staging of it all was only slightly suggestive, relying mostly on Inferno—who was, as established by Red Alert’s own impeccable reasoning, objectively handsome—dressed in a pair of swim trunks that left a lot of tanned skin out in the open. The scene was set up to be a more casual situation rather than a more forced mood like he had been afraid of, but looking at Inferno holding a hose, dripping all over and smiling wide, he weakly thinks this might be worse. There is also a squirming puppy, like the picture was caught mid-attempt at a bath in a sunny backyard. It was cute. It was playful. Inferno’s chest was very wet. A lot of him was very wet.
Red Alert didn’t remember getting into bed, staring blankly at the ceiling while his brain buzzed with incoherent thoughts. Do… friends feel like this about each other? His thoughts sounded slightly hysterical, No, this is definitely just around Inferno. Who I keep seeing in various stages of undress. Helpfully, his memory provided examples, considering how Inferno liked to walk around early in the morning without a shirt. I think… I think it might be a little different than friendship. Or more than friendship.
Something more frightening than the already terrifying idea of vulnerability and connection, something similar but completely different to the understanding he and Prowl shared at work… the idea was almost there, slowly revealing itself at the edge of his awareness, coming closer and closer like a shark circling a helpless seal. His face was feeling very hot, Red Alert really, really hoped he hadn’t caught a deadly virus that was going to make him combust in his bed. Thinking about unknown illnesses (and how he might have contracted them) was a definite sign he was panicking, and he tried to redirect his thoughts like Rung had told to—think of something else. Something stable.
Of course, it had to be Inferno, but not “laughing in the sun for a camera” Inferno, but walking next to him and telling him about his day, coaxing more answers out of Red Alert than anyone else. He knows how Red Alert likes his coffee in the morning before work, and if he’s free, he tries to make it for him in a to-go cup. He doesn’t mind the layers Red Alert has up, but in a different way than how Prowl doesn’t mind them.
The shape of that something was almost clear, he could almost see is in the dark of his room.
The time was getting to him (too long was spent staring at the ceiling), and he felt his eyes finally droop. Tomorrow’s Red Alert can continue his worrying, but tomorrow’s Red Alert would also be able to walk across the hall and knock on Inferno’s door for help.
Halfway to unconsciousness, the issue with the calendar and Inferno’s spot in it didn’t seem so monumental—why had he even been so concerned about it? Inferno hadn’t brought it up again, and there were eleven others who also got their picture taken. Truly, Red Alert’s own mind had a unique talent for being his own worst enemy.
Of course, that’s when the last pieces fell into place and his eyes snapped open as that feeling, that idea revealed itself in full, formed by Inferno’s smile and laughter, their walks and conversations that Red Alert hadn’t had with anyone else.
“Oh no, oh no no no no no…” He could feel cold sweat break out like he had been splashed with water, far less comforting than Inferno’s calendar pin-up had made it look, “Oh no no no no no no no no—am I in love?”
Yes, you definitely are, idiot. The revelation spelled out for him.
In response, Red Alert shrieked like the fire alarm was going off again.