Page 111 of Tumbling Hearts

“Oh my god, you sly pervert!” Santi slaps his knee.

“She told me she was missing some, but you stole ’em?” Pat joins in the laughter as well.

“I always knew you were a sleaze,” Mick says, popping in beside Maurice.

“Why’d you steal them? To wear them yourself?” Santi teases.

“N-no…” Ray lies, his face feeling blisteringly hot.

“Nothing wrong with wearing women’s underwear,” Maurice says matter-of-factly. “The frilly ones are especially nice. I’ve actually bought some for K⁠—”

“Maurice, you better shut the hell up, right fucking now,” Kenneth blurts, his face beet red.

That gets Gene to laugh. Ray turns his head toward him, the sight of Gene’s smile untying the knot in his stomach. The way his eyes crease, the sweet sound of his laughter, it eases Ray in a way that nothing else can. It makes Ray laugh too, the feeling so damn good after everything that just happened.

“Say, why don’t we liven up this place a little?” Santi exclaims to everyone. “Let’s get some music goin’! Ray, how ’bout you pick out a record?”

“Oh, sure.” He stands up, holding his hand out for Gene. “Let’s pick one out together, yeah?”

Gene’s smile shines brighter, despite the sore redness on his cheek. “For sure.”

He grabs Ray’s hand and stands up as well, and they go to the record rack to pick out a tune.

The hours pass by without a care, thankfully. Everyone gets more drinks, dances to the music, and has a great time. It seems nothing can sour this wonderful party. Ray sure was scared for a bit there, but, surprisingly, everything ended up alright. Most importantly of all, Gene stood up for him. It happened so fast, like on instinct—Gene was there for him. It warms his heart just thinking about it. He stands beside Gene, both of them leaning against a wall as everyone else crowds around the TV, waiting for the ball to drop.

“How’s your cheek feeling?” Ray asks Gene. They’re standing so close, shoulders almost touching.

“It stings, but I’ll be alright.” Gene shrugs.

“Thank you, for, uh… for doing that. You didn’t have to. I deserved it.”

“Don’t say that.” Gene shakes his head. “I never want to see you hurt, Ray. I’ll take the blow for you any day.”

He smiles. “Again, thank you. Though… I realized what you said could have a couple different meanings.”

“Take the blow? I guess so—blow, like dope,” Gene chuckles.

“Of course you would think of that first,” Ray chuckles as well. “You could take another kind of blow-something-or-other from me⁠—”

“Ray! Cool it.” Gene laughs even harder, their shoulders bumping together. “Everyone’s around us…”

“No one’s paying attention. Plus, everyone’s rather buzzed, looking at the TV.”

“Maybe we should be checking that out, too. We might miss the ball drop.”

“Oh, yeah. Don’t wanna miss that.”

They huddle closer to the television, finding their spot near Pat and Santiago. Their hands are free, not holding any drinks anymore, thankfully. So Ray goes for it—he throws his arm around Gene’s shoulders. Gene chuckles and goes for it too, reaching his own arm around Ray’s back and grabbing his waist, keeping him close. It not only feels great touching him like this, but it also helps them see better, holding each other steady. A win-win.

As the final musical number of 1976 concludes, there’s only seconds remaining of the current year. A countdown begins as the glittery ball lowers, and everyone in the room chants along with it⁠—

“Five…”

“Four…”

“Three…”

“Two…”