daily dose (faj//ri)

"we'd make such a cute couple, yeah?"

Fajar had always been particularly flirty with Rian, despite how shy both boys were in the beginning. Rian wasn’t sure what brought that part out in Fajar, but he wasn’t complaining. Well, not at first, at least.

It was cute, in the beginning, watching Fajar throw an awkward wink Rian's way, all shy and bright red. Embarrassment never stopped Fajar where Rian was concerned, though. Those first few months of all their friends getting to know each other was rough and exciting, and watching Fajar make a fool of himself just to make Rian feel more included, more like he belong and was welcomed, never failed to make Rian absolutely giddy with joy.

He had never taken Fajar seriously, though, not really. Fajar flirted with a lot of people in those first few month, and he did a much better job with that flirting—with flirting that didn’t directly involve Rian. At first, Rian was a bit upset despite all the joy that friendly flirting brought—Rian thought Fajar was super hot, okay? It broke his very naïve heart to see Fajar so effortlessly flirting and charming everyone around him, while he had to stutter his way through a cliché pick-up line directed at Rian.

Still, Rian loved the flirting, even if it broke his heart a little. Fajar wasn’t the first cute boy who hadn’t looked twice at Rian, and Rian was quite sure he wouldn’t be the last. That was okay, Rian had a lot of practice in pretending like it didn’t bother him.

And it didn’t, okay? So what Fajar had gotten much, much better at flirting over the last few years? So what that the shy glances and stuttered lines had morphed into sly quips and heated glances? So what that Rian had done a completely shit job at getting over his—small, insignificant, really—crush on Fajar? So what that Fajar still flirted with everyone like it was a joke—like it was an icebreaker, like it was simply a way of introducing himself?

So what that Rian was now pathetically, hopelessly in love with Fajar and watching him throw around flirty lines like it was fucking confetti made his—still so naïve—heart crack and creak around the edges? So what that now when Fajar flirted with Rian, all he could do was ache with ‘what ifs’ and ‘I wants’?

It was fine, really. It was all totally okay, and Rian was coping like any fully grown, mature adult would do.

Well, he was avoiding Fajar like the fucking plague. In fact, Rian was doing such a good job of being a fully realized, mature adult that he hadn’t seen or talked to Fajar in a little over a week.

The fact that that was, quite literally, the longest they had ever gone without contact since they met those fateful years ago? Insignificant.

Rian was actually surprised he had managed to avoid Fajar for this long—Fajar could be quite persistent when he wanted to be, and if Rian wasn’t seeking Fajar out for company, then chances were Fajar was seeking Rian.

But, of course, his good luck—see also: stubborn, bullheaded ways—had to run out at some point. So when Fajar—along with their other friends—turned up at his door exactly one week and three days after Rian had promised himself he was going to move on by avoiding Fajar, he wasn’t exactly surprised.

“What are you guys doing here?” Rian asked, already moving aside to let them in. It was pointless to try and stop them. Kevin had a key—a key he still wouldn’t tell Rian how he acquired—and even if he didn’t, they would just resort to making a bunch of noise—pounding on the door, the windows, quite literally throwing rocks at his house.

Like Fajar, actually.

“We decided it had been too long since we all hung out! So, what better time than now?” Kevin exclaimed.

Rian raised an eyebrow. “On a completely random Tuesday night? Yeah, that makes total sense.”

“Exactly!” Kevin beamed at Rian over his shoulder, already heading to the kitchen with his bags of snacks as Fajar closed the door behind them all. Anthony and Jonathan were quick to follow, shouting about which snacks were theirs and what Kevin better have not forgotten.