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𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣 — 𝙝𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙡𝙚𝙥𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙨 𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚
☕
IT WAS, THANKFULLY, a night where Brendon didn't have to work. Instead of taking orders or making coffee or calling out names (correctly and incorrectly, depending on whether or not he liked the person), he was lying on his bed with his feet in Betty's lap (her laptop sitting on his feet) and on Cindy's bed were Bren and Harry, cuddled up together.
They would never admit it later, but they were definitely making googly-eyes at each other and it was so clear that they were this close to actually making out. (Not that Brendon would be opposed if they did, they had been dancing around each other for months now and he was willing to start chanting for them to kiss if that's what it took.) Betty would have noticed the same thing as him if she stopped looking at her screen as she edited another article for the Bugle.
(Brendon wondered how she hadn't gone insane yet, staring at screens constantly and cleaning up the messes left by actual journalists who should know grammar and, of course, how to actually fucking write an article. But oh well...)
It was the day after classes began again after Thanksgiving break and Brendon was still thinking about Peter – then again, when was he not thinking about that boy? But it wasn't just because of his general hotness and how he had to be fucking ripped and looked amazing in just a t-shirt and not his usual sweater, or how he was so smart it made Brendon want to cry. Out of jealously but also pride, that was his future husband, after all.
"Peter invited me to Thanksgiving," Brendon told them, staring up at the ceiling, not looking to notice how Harry choked on his spit and even Betty stopped typing.
"He did what?" Betty asked him.
All eyes were trained on him as he nodded. "Yep," he confirmed, "He invited me over. It was just him and his Aunt May – who is an amazing woman, by the way. She was really sweet."
"How did you not mention this before?" Bren asked him, "How did you not text any of us this very important detail that most definitely needed to be shared?"
"Never mind that, how did Peter not tell me that he was gonna do this?" Harry asked, but it was mostly to himself. Then he frowned, "I am definitely going to have to talk to Aunt May about this..."
"Leave him alone," Brendon said to Harry, "I don't really think he thought it through. His aunt didn't even know about it until I showed up back to his house with him. But she was nice and let me stay."
"Of course she did, May is incredible," Harry told him, "I remember when we were younger and she would try to bake us cookies. The key word is try because anything involving May and the kitchen is bound to end in disaster."
