Emery had woken up great that morning, and he had no speck of idea that it was about to become even greater.
"I- I... what," the redhead stammered, his eyes blinking repeatedly as he desperately tried to cover the Marilyn Monroe print on his shirt with his lanky arms. Why he was so skeptical to wear it last night is becoming more clear now. "What?"
"Did I catch you at a bad time?" Cameron responded jokingly, the corners of his mouth twisting in the slightest in an awkward laugh, making Emery gulp. He's so cute. He's so adorable. Why the hell is he standing at my front door? Am I dreaming? Is this the parallel universe in which things don't suck ass?
"What? Wha-what did you say?" Emery asked again. He saw Cameron dart his eyes at his disarrayed hair and Emery found himself feeling embarrassed, consciously tugging on its ends.
Cameron chuckled, a misty cloud of air escaping his lips.
"I have tickets for Hamilton," he repeated, holding two surprisingly undamaged golden tickets in his gloved hand, considering the heavy snowfall. "I know we're not that close but Ian told me you might wanna go."
Alone?
"With me," Cameron added.
"Oh," Emery let out, fighting a squeal as the blond's offer eventually dawned on him. "Ian- Ian told you that?"
"Yeah," Cam nodded. Emery nodded, pursing his lips to fend off a giddy smile. Ian, you son of a bitch, I love you so much. "Do you wanna? I mean, it would make sense if you didn't since you and I never really..."
God, he's so fucking hot.
"Of course!" the redhead let out a little too enthusiastically than he was going for. Hoping to mask it up with a cough, he shrugged. "I mean... yeah, sure cool. Do you um- do you wanna come in?"
Cameron scanned through the inside of Emery's house. The television was running some show he could assume was aired in the 80s, and the walls were fully decorated with Christmas lights and stockings. "I don't wanna intrude on anything," he said.
"I'm home alone," Emery impulsively let out.
Why the hell would you say that? he cringed. Now he's gonna think you're a whore.
"Oh, okay," Cameron smiled, unbothered apparently, and stepped inside as Emery guided him to the living room. "Is it fine if I asked why?"
The redhead disappeared inside the kitchen and emerged holding two cups of coffee, steam rising to the ceiling.
"My family's out of town," he answered, setting the red cup for Cameron and the green one for himself. "They were either visiting my dead grandma or they were gonna spread asthma- I- I don't know, I wasn't really listening."
Cameron snorted, and Emery just chuckled shamefully as he scratched on his nape. "I'm sorry, I hate it when I do that, too."
The blond warmed his hands on the cup and shook his head, still laughing. "But it's the holidays."
"Oh no, it's nothing bad. I actually insisted," Emery clarified, chugging on his coffee. Cameron stared at him with shock, flinching as he watched the redhead abuse his tongue. Emery, however, continued as if drinking hot coffee without letting it sit was just a normal thing people do. "I don't like traveling in the winter, and they'll be back by Christmas anyway."
Emery giggled internally, not once imagining this scene unfold ever in his life. He was actually making small talk with his crush. He's never been more proud of himself.
"How did you know my address?" Cameron heard him ask.
"Your mom didn't tell you?" the blond wondered, taking a quick sip after blowing through the cup's rim. Emery raised his brow with question. "I drove you here when you were passed out drunk at Bryce's."
Hearing that, Emery choked on his drink. Violently.
"Oh shit, are you okay?" Cameron asked, his hand finding the redhead's back as he tapped and rubbed it in circles.
"Y-yeah," the redhead coughed out, and if he wasn't so embarrassed, he would've gone crazy about his crush's hand on his back muscles. "I'm sorry when was this?"
"Halloween."
"Hallo-" Emery clasped on his mouth, the memories of that morning after Bryce's party slowly coming back at him like a PowerPoint slideshow. "Oh my god, oh my god and I was drunk?"
The letters. Oh, please please please tell me he didn't see those.
"Yeah," Cameron smirked. "You threw up in my car."
Emery gasped out loud, cheeks burning hot pink. "Oh!"
"Don't worry. The window was open," Cameron added, enjoying how fast Emery's expression changes at every new information handed to him.
The redhead hung his mouth open. You're not helping, his eyes told Cameron.
"It's fine really," Cameron chuckled, genuinely amused. "Though you did call yourself amazing multiple times after doing it twice."
"Oh my god!" Emery shrieked, standing up. "This is so embarrassing, I'm so sorry, oh my god I can't even..."
"Emery, it's fine," Cameron assured softly, though the laugh that rippled out of his throat was kind of unsettling. "It was actually the only time I enjoyed Halloween. Shawn's party pretty much sucked."
Emery laughed but the shame was still lingering somewhere to the tip of his fingers. I am never drinking alcohol again, he thought as he imagined making a complete fool of himself in front of Cameron. In his car. Shaking his head, he said, "At least, I guess."
Cameron smiled, and as Emery sat back down, there was silence. For a good ten seconds.
"Who were the tickets for originally anyway?" Emery asked. He was itching to ask that question since he was offered this once-in-a-lifetime experience, because there was no way Cameron would spend $500 (he doesn't know how much tickets cost, he's never even been to a freaking carnival, okay?) just to ask Emery to go with him. Something must've gone wrong.
"Oh nothing, it was just this..." he looked at Emery who was looking back at him anticipatingly, and continued. "Girl..." The redhead nodded, feeling that familiar rush of jealousy in his chest whenever the group would nag Cameron about a new girlfriend at the lunch table. "Turned me down."
"That's awful," Emery empathized, half meaning it, half wanting to smack whoever that girl was in the head for turning such an amazing guy down.
"Some would say," the blond chuckled, sipping the last drop of coffee from his cup. He glanced at Emery, and he had this look on his face like he just remembered something funny. "I really don't get why we've never hung out before."
Well, it is a pickle to pick up some courage to talk to your crush, Emery thought. "My mom did tell me I look like Shaggy," were the actual words that came out. Cameron looked confused, and Emery just looked at him as if there was nothing to be confused about.
"Scooby-Doo? Remember? You hate them," the redhead's eyes momentarily widened after seeing the look on Cameron's face that said 'how do you know about that?' Panicking, the first excuse that he could think of came spewing out of his mouth. "Blake told us."
Cameron frowned, eyebrows pinching in evident betrayal. "That son of a gun," he muttered. Emery winced, grimacing at himself for being so careless. This is what you get for talking too much, you unstoppable idiot. Thankfully, he heard Cameron chuckle as he set the cup down the coffee table. "I'll come by this Saturday at 8. Is that good?"
For a moment, the redhead felt his eyes sparkle. He's gonna pick me up. "Sure," he answered, managing to be nonchalant.
"Great," Cameron smiled, heading for the door. "Oh, and um, wear a big coat."
"Why?"
He smirked once he got outside, Emery standing by the doorframe as he admired Cameron's face for the last time. "They don't allow outside food in the theatre."
Emery chuckled, shaking his head before looking back up. "Okay."
Cameron and Jonathan Groff. This might not be an official date, but Emery was, to say the least, excited as all fuck.