Chapter 2
Morgan commiserates with him, which also helps, says she had the same problem with Jesse's school and conferences last month.
"Tanya ended up going without me after the whole mess, but you know Tanya."
"Very thorough."
"I had a novel of notes to look through on my next 24-hour shift," she smiles, "Though I gotta say, punching Des's face might have helped."
"I'll take back the bagels."
"Do you want me to call the school?" Nate interjects with an urgent worry, "Or you know, all of us?
Increase your odds?
With four people on the line they gotta answer one of us at some point."
And Vic is sure no other person should be able to do that, to care so much about you without wasting a single beat.
He schools his features best he can and brushes off the gesture, "I got avela on it, you know her and her charm.
Second only to yours," he says without thinking, and blinks down to his feet to avoid catching any reactions of any kind, "But I'm gonna go punch something anyway, not Des."
"You were always my favorite, Vic!"
"Hey!"
"Save me a muffin!" he yells, before turning to hop down the stairs to the small gym, maybe less so to punch out his frustration and more so to punch out his feelings.
That dumb smile still echoing in his mind.
He catches the tail end of something Des yells that sounds like "A
bagel
You were supposed to ask—" but he misses the rest, already hitting the first floor.
Vic's not sure how much time has passed when he sits back on a small bench in the gym beside a punching bag, a thin bead of sweat rolling down his face.
Couldn't have been too long, but its enough, energy expended and his focus almost fully realigned.
He's still got his SoundBuds in, listening to some music that's obnoxious and loud and adult and probably very out of character (Nate has made fun of his music choices before, but Vic's sure it's really just an extreme to counter all the Starlight Studios tunes on loop in his home.)
Avela had said
soon
, and he's checking his phone again and again waiting for that soon to be
He's just about to call her when someone jumps into the room.
"You come to tell me you ate the last bagel?"
"If I did, you think I'd tell the truth, or just pin it on Des?" Nate quirks, his eyes almost squinting shut, "You feeling better?"
"Yes, actually," Vic sighs, dejectedly pushing the bag away from him with little enthusiasm, "Though, I'd be perfect if I got the seven pm conference slot."
When he looks back up, it seems like Nate is just finishing a sentence he missed.
Between his distracted state and his loud music still playing in his ears, Vic didn't hear it, so he adds, "You say something?"
Nate huffs something that sounds like no which Vic knows means
, he did say something.
Vic doesn't press it though, just picks up his phone and sees no notification present, then continues to say, "I'm honestly more stressed just thinking about avela texting me the news, which, apparently, I have you to thank for,
Nathan,
" he smirks, and assumes Nate must just still be blushing from whatever Des and Morgan has been on him about upstairs.
"You can be jealous avela likes me better than you, I can handle it," Nate says, though it comes out softer than Vic is expecting, which
un
expectedly twists at his insides.
Vic drops his phone in his lap but keeps the screen open, and pats the bench next to him, signaling his friend over.
And at that Nate seems... confused?
Conflicted?
Vic's not sure what there is to struggle with, just to sit next to him in the station gym like they've done at least a dozen times before.
He bounces on his feet, Vic can almost
see
his thoughts bubbling outside his head, but when Vic laughs he releases a breath-like laugh too, and sits.
"Are
okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," Nate shakes his head, a pause, and then, "You wanna get dinner?"
"It's 10 in the morning."
"Not now asshole, like later, as—"
His headphones suddenly sound with a loud
bing
that signals a text message, and when Vic glances down quickly reads it he sighs loudly, unable to keep a smile off his face.
Abeula to the rescue, as usual.
"Finally," he mumbles, and looks up to see Nate shooting him the most earth-shattering, time-stopping smile Vic has ever seen.
"Like, a good finally or—"
"Yes, yes all good," Vic instinctively drops a hand to Nate's knee and squeezes it lightly, overcome again with the warmth of knowing how much Nate
cares
, how Nate leans in close and cares about Vic, about Vic and Benjamin and his family.
Then convinces himself that's a totally platonic thing to feel and not get to hopeful about it.
"What time?" Nate asks, and Vic swears he'll invite Nate to the next conference with him if he keeps smiling like that.
He shakes the thought, and smiles a little more, leans into the infectious optimism.
"7," Vic clicks his phone shut, pulls out the one headphone still in his right hear, the music ceasing and his distractions fully gone.
He elbows Nate on his way to standing, "So, dinner?"
"Or not, I mean it's whatever you—"
"You're the only guy I know who could eat his body weight in breakfast and immediately think about dinner," Vic laughs, tries to keep the wist out of his voice, because its not the first time he's made platonic dinner plans with Nate, so he should be used to it (he's not) "But yeah, dinner sounds good, I—"
Just when he's about to finish that sentence with something embarrassing, the alarm saves him.
"We can uh, make plans later?"
Vic nods, smiling, then they're both up and out, getting ready for a call.
Vic's shrugging on his gear, laughing at his avela's string of excited victory texts and is about to warn Nate of the monster he's created, when he sees Morgan pulling Nate into her side, squeezing an arm around his shoulder while Des excitedly jogs backwards in front of them.
"What did we say, Natearoo?"
"Can we not do the 'I told you so' right now?"
"But we
told
you so!"
Vic climbs into the truck behind them, their conversation over at his arrival, but their grins plastered wide and permanent.
"So, Des," Vic looks up at his teammate sitting across from him, "Heard you ate the last bagel, not cool man."
Nate drops his chin to his chest and taps his toes on top of Vic's boot.
The rest of the shift passes by in a blur of low-impact calls, a really delicious dinner from Cap that could have cured every one of Vic's Monday morning grievances alone, and some nice downtime up in the loft in between.
It doesn't feel like long before he's throwing his things into his bag haphazardly and thanking Elena for staying late, letting her know he's on his way home.
Morgan is shutting her locker at the same time as him, with a loud sigh, "Day get any better?"
"Oh god, yes," Vic swipes a hand down his face with an exhausted groan, "Thank you guys."
"Hey, don't thank us, we didn't do anything.
Just really happy for you.
You deserve it," Morgan winks, pats a hand onto his shoulder affectionately, "The conference thing work out?"
Vic assumed that's what she was already referring to, which confuses him for a beat, but he answers anyway, "Uh, yeah.
Here's hoping Westport traffic cuts me some slack getting from here to the school as soon as my shift ends."
"That's a good one," She laughs, "I'll pray for you."
He echoes her laughter and adds, "I might need to ask Tanya to be on standby.
She'd probably get more out of that meeting than I ever could."
"Oh you know she would," Morgan says, "When I said a novel, I was not kidding."
"I didn't think so," he slings his bag over one shoulder and starts to head out the room, "Well, now I need to sleep for three days straight."
Morgan scoffs out a laugh, agreeing, "See you bright and early tomorrow, Vic."
"Night, Morgan."
He walks out of the room down the long path to the entrance of the station, surprisingly light on his feet in a way he did not think possible at the start of his day.
Its strange, how such small things flip his mood in here, in any direction, at any time.
Though, some reactions are more routine than others.
"Vic!
Hey," Nate springs up from where he'd been leaning on the back of the ladder truck waiting to walk Vic out to his car.
That one never gets old.