The Queerest [🗸]

epilogue n extras

I recognize their laughter, the flashes of their smiles. Damien's holding a huge-ass cake and a wider grin, Soren's bouncing from foot to foot in bright red shorts, Riya's arms are still slung around my neck and Evelyn's soft laugh is carrying throughout the wind.

Antonio sets up a little table, and everyone sort of shifts in. There are camping chairs in reds and blues and greens, and everyone pulls theirs up to the quaint little setup in the center. At some point, Toni's hand finds mine and Riya places candles on the ice-cream cake that sits in the middle of the table.

She places about nine, sending me an apologetic look when she's done. "So, I deadass couldn't find any more candles, like, they ran out—"

"—because she procrastinated," Evelyn says, nodding a head of curls that stops just above her shoulder  as her girlfriend kicks her foot from where she's standing.

"—because I might've procrastinated," she says once more, shrugging the sleeves of her oversized t-shirt that stops just above her bellybutton. "Anyway, you're nine now!"

"Happy ninth birthday!" Soren cheers from across the table, legs strung onto Damien's lap, and I genuinely wonder how he managed to accomplish that when they're on two separate chairs.

"Does it feel any different that eight?" Damien asks, eyes bright as I exhale an incredulous laugh.

So, we laugh. Evelyn managed to get her hands on some quaint little table cloth with pretty designs around the corner, so as Soren cuts the slices of cake and places them on plates that are even quainter, I set my plate back on the cloth.

"Guys," I say, head shaking, "I'm literally crying. I feel like I'm in a little cottage in the woods somewhere. I love you."

Damien's lips twitch as his head juts over to Antonio who is seated next to me, foot nudging mine while the warmth of his hands in my own takes over. "Antonio's idea."

Because, Antonio.

Because he remembers every little thing I ever tell him, even the useless shit. Because he's my boyfriend. Because he never forgets shit when it comes to me. Because he's him, and I have so fucking much to say to him that my words don't come and I stare at him instead.

Everyone gets back to eating, at some point leaving the table to screw around by the ocean. They're laughing, and Soren is finding a song from his playlist, one hand slung around Damien's waist, the other scrolling through his phone. Evelyn is sitting at the edge of the beach, swearing as Riya splashes her from the depths of the ocean.

My gaze returns to Antonio who's staring at me too, lips pulled into that tilted grin and fuck is he beautiful.

I slide my hands on either side of his face, and I murmur a silent question, and he nods, and then he's pressing his lips against mine.

This isn't the first time we've kissed. Not the second time, not the third. But every time it feels nice and calming and right. We have a rhythm and easily fall into it. 

So, when I pull away, I decide to say it, the words.

"I love you, Antonio."

There, there it is.

It's so simple. If asked, I could go on a long spiel about how I've fallen in love with him more and more as time passed, or how his smile deserves an award, or how I'm in love with color of his eyes and the shine to his piercings and everything.

But he knows.

It's been a year, after all.

So, really, it shouldn't take me aback when he responds, voice soft, gaze unflinching, "I love you, Blue." He searches my eyes and I nod.

Then, he's leaning forward, kissing me once more before pulling away.  His lips twitch. "Happy birthday. You're nineteen," his hand rests on his chest, "they grow up so quick," and I'm cackling and he laughs too.

And before I can respond, he's tugging me to my feet, pulling me toward the others where the ocean is licking at their feet and the mood is more mild but no less happy. Evelyn and Riya share a drink, Damien's head rests on Soren's lap as his eyes take in the sky.

Antonio lowers us somewhere in the middle of our friends, and we laugh and talk and he makes his usual shit jokes and my lips won't stop curving into a grin.

Everyone seems to scream in liberation, at the ocean, at each other. Almost stating that yes, we're fucking here. Yes, we love each other. Yes, we've grown and moved and  shifted. But we're still those kids we were one year ago.

And I think about how we aren't simple. Never have been. We're nuanced, tragic people with massive dreams and soft smiles. We're people that have seen shit and experienced shit and fought for better shit.

In high school, we were once called the unfuckables because our very existence was a challenge. That feels like forever ago. 

But fuck, no matter how many miles and years placed between us, we're still us. We're still the queerest.

And the future belongs to us.

***

omg

so we're here,, we did it joe !!

i love these characters in case u haven't noticed n they turned out even more amazing than i'd initially planned. i think i fell in love with them bc i got emotionally attached PLS

i did it !! this is it !! this is the queerest !!

also even though u probably already know,, i adore all of you.

you being here, reading, commenting, correcting my errors (bc i don't edit asjdhj </3) means the world to me

- hayle ❤