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The summer of his junior year, Andy decides to get a job as a camp counselor. It's odd being back at his old day camp in this capacity, like he’s actually an adult or something. But nothing is odder than walking into the orientation room and finding Sid Phillips leaning against the wall, looking permanently bored.

Andy's move -- albeit not that far away -- still had zoned him into different elementary and junior high schools, but once he reached 9th grade he'd found himself back in Sid's orbit. Sid had changed a lot since he lived next door to Andy, was more mellowed out. They didn't run in the same circles and had only a handful of classes together over the past few years, given that Sid was a year above him.

Sid hung with the skaters. He smoked on the blacktop, had a tattoo, and wore baggy jeans and stupidly obnoxious headphones.

And Andy's had a god damn crush on him for years now.

It just hit him one day, coming back into school from recess and literally running into Sid in the stairwell. He’d smelled of cigarettes and cologne and was pushing his slightly greasy hair out of his face, looking up at Andy with narrowed eyes.

"Watch where you're goin', huh, Davis."

Andy was too busy blinking after him and trying to ignore his very interested dick to say anything in response. Sid was the first guy that wasn't a movie star to cause these feelings and it was kinda terrifying that a) Andy apparently wasn't just gay for Brad Pitt and b) he was apparently gay for Sid friggin' Phillips.

It fucked with Andy's world for about two weeks until he just gave in and let it happen.

He came out to his mom on his 16th birthday and she was as awesome as he expected her to be. He dated Justin Jacobs for 3 weeks and got a blowjob out of the deal before realizing they had literally nothing in common except for being the only two gay dudes in school. Well, the only out ones, anyway. Andy figured that wasn't exactly much to build a relationship on and started the countdown to college on his calendar.

The job this summer had a twofold purpose: a) to keep Andy busy so his mom didn't complain about his wasting his life away in his room with his guitar and b) it would look good on his college application, especially since he was planning to major in elementary school teaching.

So, yeah, a freshly graduated Sid Phillips was not supposed to factor into this. (Some of his friends had been surprised Sid actually graduated on time. Andy told them they shouldn’t judge books by their covers.)

Andy quickly shuffles by where Sid is standing, head ducked, but it doesn't matter.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Sid says, and to Andy's shock, he walks right over to where Andy has parked himself.

"Uh, hey man," Andy says, shaking his hair out of his eyes.

Sid nods, leaning back against the wall again and staring out at the room. "Figured you'd be on a beach somewhere, Davis."

Andy blinks at him. "Why’s that?"

Sid shrugs, darting his gaze to Andy before looking away again. "You remind me of a surfer. Probably gonna go to college in California or Florida, aren't ya?"

Andy refuses to tell him he has indeed applied to multiple schools in Florida. Something about Sid's tone and casual demeanor has him on the defensive and Andy's suddenly reminded of the kid from the other side of the fence and why they were never friends.

"And where are you gonna go?"

Sid laughs shortly. "Nowhere, man. Why would I voluntarily subject myself to more school beyond my required servitude?"

Andy bites his lip to keep from saying things like "because it'll help your future, it'll give you structure, it's what most people do,” realizing he'd sound like a walking brochure from the guidance counselor's office.

"No reason," Andy mumbles, and then there's no more talking for a while as the supervisors come in to go over their duties and what to expect this summer. The entire time, Andy can feel Sid's shoulder against his own and, honestly, there's absolutely no reason for them to be that close.

Nevertheless, Andy doesn’t move away.

At the end of training, they're divided into randomly selected pairs of two and assigned a group. Someone either really hates or loves Andy because, naturally, he's placed with Sid.

"Guess we're gonna be seeing a lot of one another this summer, eh, Davis?" Sid says, clapping Andy on the shoulder before walking off. Andy watches Sid go, takes in the curve of his back and the breadth of his shoulders, sees him get onto the motorcycle he's had since the start of his senior year.

It's unfairly hot and Andy had really hoped he'd be over this by now.

It was gonna be a long summer.

The kids are pretty cool. Not old enough to be terribly obnoxious yet, and still mostly entertained by the simple things in life.

Nevertheless, Sid manages to complain about every little thing and then some on their breaks, which they take together at one of the picnic tables in the counselors’ area. Sid always smokes and Andy always complains. They've fallen into some weird kind of -- not really friendship, but a camaraderie of sorts. It's as though leaving the rigid social statuses of high school behind has allowed them to just be two people rather than “Andy the Nerdy Jock” and “Sid the Slacker Skater.” It's all very The Breakfast Club, but then again Andy's always loved John Hughes.

"You never did tell me what you're doing here," Andy says after listening to Sid rant about Kevin "I don't like the water and you’re not gonna get me to go in it” Winters, a third grader.

It's an honest question. All Sid does is complain.

Sid snorts. "My mom thinks I could use some structure, and that making sure rugrats are entertained can provide that. Little does she know I'm just waiting to earn enough money so I can move out."

"Yeah?" Andy asks, interested. It's weird to think about being like, independent. Thinking of Sid that way. Sure, if he goes away to college he’d be dorming but that’s different than an apartment of your own and like, earning a living without things like financial aid and his parents’ college fund. Hell, Andy still keeps his toys in his room.

"Yeah. But not with shit like this. I don't want to interact with people, man. My buddy’s brother is a sanitation worker. I think I'm probably gonna apply for the fall."

Andy blinks in surprise. It's so strange hearing Sid talk about grown up shit like this. Of having more of a plan for his life than Andy does as this point. Andy feels bad for kind of writing the guy off, the way mostly everyone in school did, despite his crush.

Speaking of said crush, these new revelations certainly aren’t helping with squashing it.

Andy realizes he's been quiet for too long when Sid mumbles, "Guess picking up other people's garbage sounds like a nightmare to someone like you." It's the first time he's heard any type of defensiveness in Sid’s voice, like he actually cares about Andy's opinion of him.

"I'm not some snob, man," Andy says, then dares to knock his shoulder against Sid's.

Sid laughs and Andy wants to bury himself in the sound, doesn't hear it nearly enough. “Sure there, princess. You don't even cuss.”

Andy rolls his eyes, but his mouth can't help smiling. “Fuck, dick, asswipe,” Andy says, proudly. “Happy now?”

Sid's just kind of staring at him and Andy feels a flare of heat in his stomach. “Ecstatic,” Sid says, a little too quietly given the tone of their conversation.

They pass the rest of their break in silence. It feels like something has shifted between them, but Andy can't for the life of him figure out what.


Friday after work Andy’s standing at his locker packing up and getting ready to head out when Sid appears out of nowhere, rapping on the locker next to his and making Andy jump.

“Jerk,” Andy exhales, but Sid's just grinning. There’s a hint of uncertainty behind his eyes, though, and Andy's just about to ask what's up when Sid clears his throat.

“So, guess you got some big plans tonight, huh, Fourth of July weekend.”

Andy shrugs. “Not really.” Some of his friends are going to a party tomorrow that Andy might show up at. Tonight he was just gonna home and practice his guitar, listen to some Radiohead, heat up some nachos.

Sid runs his fingers through his hair and Andy is so caught up in the movement that he only half catches the words directed his way.

“--that uh, carnival tonight and well, could be cool if you wanna…?”


Sid blows out a frustrated breath. “Nothin’, man, I'll catch you later.”

He's turning to go and Andy feels like he's missed something huge here. He replays the fragmented sentence he did catch over in his brain and then catches Sid's arm.


Sid turns on his heel and lifts his eyebrows expectantly.

“Um. The carnival. You wanna go?” It's more of a statement than a question and Sid rightfully rolls his eyes.

“That's what I just said, brainiac.”

Andy shoves him good naturedly, sudden grin taking over his face. “Sorry, genius. Little slow on the uptake sometimes.”

“I'll say,” Sid mumbles and Andy's heart skips a beat over what it might mean.

One step at a time, though.

He finishes up quickly at his locker and meets Sid outside. Andy's eyes widen when he realizes Sid expects him to get on the back of his bike, despite the fact that Andy's had a car since getting his license.

“You scared?” Sid asks when he sees Andy eying the bike. It sounds almost -- flirty.

Andy takes a deep breath and slings his backpack over both shoulders. “Definitely not,” Andy says, eying Sid meaningfully and satisfied when he sees him swallow.

It's awkward at first, finding his footing, positioning himself behind Sid, trying to figure out the appropriate place to put his hands.

Finally Sid barks out, “Just get your arms around me so we can go sometime today, Davis,” and well, Andy doesn't need to be told twice.

It's exhilarating; the wind in his hair, the feel of Sid's denim clad hips beneath his fingers, the roar of the engine.

The carnival is in full swing when they get there and Andy feels drunk on life, stumbling off the bike and laughing up to the sky. When he looks at Sid, he finds him staring, helmet in his hand and lips parted.

“What?” Andy asks, still laughing.

Sid shakes his head. “Nothin’. C’mon, let's find you some games to play, little boy.”

Andy flips him off but the giddiness he's feeling doesn't subside.

They both prefer the games to the rides. Andy wins a stuffed unicorn for Molly (Sid makes fun of him) and a Marvin the Martian for himself (Sid tries to steal it when he isn’t looking). They get cotton candy and funnel cake and Andy bites his tongue on a smile when Sid wins a zebra for his sister Hannah.

“Shut up,” Sid mutters, stuffing the toy under his arm.

“I didn't say anything,” Andy replies innocently.

“C’mon. Ferris wheel,” Sid says, grabbing Andy's hand with his free one.

His stomach flips and he lets himself be pulled along. They sit there with their toys stuffed along either side of one another, pressed practically up against each other.

“Nice night,” Andy says dumbly when they're stopped halfway up.

“Uh-huh,” Sid says, sounding bored and making Andy feel even dumber.

The silence stretches on, as the car remains stationary. Andy feels Sid shift beside him.

“Mind if I smoke?”

“Do you gotta?” Andy says, making a face.

Sid pauses with his hand half in his denim jacket pocket, the movement jostling Andy and shaking the car a little.

“No,” Sid answers slowly. “S’why I asked.”

“Oh,” Andy mutters, heart dancing in his chest. It’s then he realizes Sid’s never actually asked before. “Um, thanks.”

Sid shrugs as if it’s no big deal, removing his hand from his pocket. It hovers in the air for a moment before slowly dropping down to rest over Andy’s on his knee.

Andy tenses and he feels his pulse beat in his ears, loud and overwhelming.

Sid stares right at him. “You mind this?” he asks, quiet, like the answer is really important.

“No,” Andy whispers back, hardly believing it when Sid's fingers trace over the back of his hand before curling around his own.

Sid's still staring at him, but his gaze seems lighter, looser. “How bout this?” he mumbles, moving in slowly, enough for Andy to stop him.

As if he'd dream of doing such a thing.

Sid hovers right up against Andy's mouth, their lips nearly touching.

“No,” Andy whispers again, before grabbing a fistful of Sid's hair and closing the distance between them.

They're still kissing when the ride starts up again. Still kissing when their car reaches the top and lingers there. Still kissing when they start the slow descent back down. They only stop because the ride operator is telling everyone to get off and Andy immediately mourns the soft, wet heat of Sid's mouth.

They steal glances at one another the whole walk back to Sid's bike, and Andy definitely catches Sid licking his lips a few times, as if trying to chase Andy's taste.

Sid rides them back to the car and Andy would be worried that they haven't spoken since the kiss, except the second they park Sid twists around and pulls Andy back to him again.

It's more frantic this time, the pace of their mouths, the sound of their breathing. Andy ends up practically in Sid's lap and he has no idea how they manage to stay upright.

Sid's tongue finds a home behind Andy's teeth, licking his way along molars and learning every curve and shape. Andy's hands map along Sid's back, his neck, up and down his arms, carving out new territory. When they finally separate, it's because breathing has become a challenge.

Andy pants against Sid's neck. “I should go,” he says weakly.

“Yeah,” Sid agrees, mouthing behind Andy's ear.

Andy moans softly and Sid groans in return, tugging at the lobe with his teeth.

“Oh god,” Andy gasps, shaking.

“Shit,” Sid whispers, face pressed against the curve of Andy's neck, his hands roaming restlessly up and down the sides of Andy's flannel. “You have no idea how bad I want you.”

Andy laughs, strained. “I think I've got some idea.”

Sid laughs in return; Andy would bottle that sound if he could. “Work is gonna be ten times worse now.”

Andy frowns, pulling back. “Why’s that?”

Sid rolls his eyes and kisses Andy's nose quickly, making him blush. “Because, dummy, I'm gonna be thinking about how we could just be doing this.”

Andy thinks about saying “well that's nothing new for me,” but stops himself. It's probably too soon to reveal the length of his crush.

Sid's gaze on him is narrow and it's like he reads Andy's mind when he says, “Course, I'm kinda always thinkin’ about that around you, but it's different knowing I've got a shot.”

Andy smiles at him, cheeks dimpling and heart soaring. He wraps his arms around Sid's neck and noses along his jaw.

“You've definitely got a shot, Phillips.”

Sid snorts and turns his mouth toward Andy's. “Damn straight I do.” He catches his lips, and then nips at Andy’s jaw before sliding up to his mouth again, teasing along the edge of his lips. “Sooo… whatcha doin’ the rest of the weekend, Davis?”

Andy answers him with another kiss, still smiling.

The End.