Somehow the movie ended up being unwatched and video games untouched. Somewhere along the way, the two boys had thought none of those things could be done if a pillow fort was not built and about an hour and a half later they were still trying to figure it out.

“No, the roof is too low. We won’t be able to see the TV,” Riggs explained as Stewart tried tying one end of the blanket on his closet door.

“We can just stick our heads out of the entrance.”

“Then we’re too close to the TV.”

Stewart gave up on tying the blanket and fell on top of it and onto the pillows they had laid on his carpet. What he didn’t take into consideration was that the other end was wedged between a tower of pillows. The tension of his body falling onto it made the sandwiched corner snap away from the pillows. The pillows, not very well stacked, started coming down on Riggs.

Riggs snorted and laughed as he stepped out of the way of the falling cushion building. What came right after was a yelp as he tripped over another pile of pillows, coming down to accidentally elbow Stewart in the stomach.

Stewart yelled in pain so loudly his house shook with footsteps and his door slammed open, his siblings running into the room. Riggs had immediately knelt beside his friend with frantic apologies and “are you okay?''

“What happened?” Emett questioned, approaching the boys.

Stewart’s shoulders trembled and he felt Riggs’s hand on his shoulder.

“Stewart I am so, so sorry,” His voice came out laced with concern.

A snort answered him, followed by strangled laughing. “Oh, my god,” he choked, “It hurts so much to laugh!” The teen cried out in pain, choking back laughter.

He stayed in his position filled with pain as his siblings sighed with relief. Riggs, although happy to hear the other laugh, remained quiet as he rubbed Stewart's back.

Their night continued with Emely and Emett joining the two teens and helping the fort be built. The four hung-out and Stewart found himself smiling more than usual. Laughing more than usual. The simple night ended with Emett and Emely falling asleep within the fort and Riggs having to go.

For Stewart’s sake, he agreed to leave through the front door.

They smiled at each other on the porch. Riggs bit his lower lip, and Stewart slightly licked his.

“See you around,” Riggs whispered in question although there was no need.

Stewart nodded.

Riggs smiled and left the other on the porch waving him goodbye.

Stewart sighed, not with relief and with exhaustion, but with a feeling of elatedness.

He walked inside his house locking the door behind him. His throat felt dry, and he started walking towards his kitchen for a glass of water. Just as he did his phone buzzed with a text and he reached into his pajama pockets. The ID read Dee. Stewart was thrown off guard, and before he could even open the text he got a call.

“Hello?”

His childhood friend’s voice came through the phone in a whisper, “Hey, Plakat.”

“Hey Dee,” he replied, eyeing the microwave for the time, 1:07 AM. With all the distractions he hadn’t noticed how late it had been. Riggs had biked to his house. The teen started to worry. And why was Dean calling him this late? “You okay?”

“Wha? Yeah, we just haven’t talked in a while, it feels like ages. Sorry, were you sleeping? I know it’s late but out of old habit I just called.”

“No. No, worries. I was actually gonna get a glass of water. Riggs was here so I’ve been up.” The end of the line went silent. Filled with static. “Hello?”

“Riggs?”

Stewart poured himself the glass of water and wondered if he should update Dean on Riggs and himself. They didn’t have anything official yet. Stewart smiled, "yet" was an important word that made his heart flutter. He truly did want to see where things took them.

“Stewart?”

“Oh, hey, yeah sorry. He came over and we were hanging.” As Stewart's best friend, Dean knew Stewart was gay. And as Dean’s best friend Stewart knew Dean was bi. Now that Stewart thought about it though, neither knew anything about Riggs’ sexuality. Neither had ever asked and were never told. Riggs had never shown interest in anyone either.

“Oh,” Dean answered.

“One sec,” He pulled the phone away from his ear and opened a text box for Riggs.

<<Hey, text me when you’re home safe.>>

He stared at his message, and when he decided it was good enough he pressed send. With the phone back to his ear he gave his full attention to Dean. He found this a bit awkward, but only because just a few days ago he could’ve sworn he still liked the other. For once, however, he was calm.

“So yeah, he was here and we hung-out.”

“I see.”

“What about you, how’s your end?”

And that’s how the conversation flowed. The two caught up with one another and how their summers had been so far. Dean couldn’t go to the fair as he was being drilled by his swimming coach. He had a pile of summer work to catch up on, and the “only fun” thing he did was go to the Dominican Republic with his family, which to Stewart’s disbelief, was the most boring trip ever.

The conversation lasted for about thirty-five minutes when he suddenly heard Dean’s heavy breathing. The male smiled to himself as the sound brought back nostalgia.

He hung up. He was back in his balcony enjoying the cool air late summer nights bring in his town. As he pushed back his locks, which he’d admit were much softer after Em conditioned them, he took the liberty to analyze his feelings. His heart was steady. His cheeks weren’t flushed. He was as calm as the water in the lake by the ice cream shop. He looked at Dean’s caller ID and it finally settled. Dean is his antediluvian crush.