madsviande

🎶cucumber sluts🎶 ///

Val: ugh Val: mom asked me if i was bringing anybody to the family reunion and i'm just like Val: for once i wish i was!!! Val: 3-for-1 deal: 1) finally come out to my family Val: 2) if i tell them i'm taken ahead of time they won't corner me at the reunion to introduce me to girls Delia: wait, pause, they introduce you to girls at your family reunion? so like your cousins? Val: GDI DELIA NO THE GIRLS ARE NOT MY RELATIVES Val: they get in-laws to drag their friends along to hook up w/unsuspecting unattached young adult family Val: also sometimes they just try to set me up on blind dates while I'm there Ambrose: That seems. Invasive Delia: #yikes but at least it's not cousin ethel-mae Johnny: LMAO Val: 3) a boyfriend physically present to convince my aunts that shoving girls at me is never gonna work Val: but fucc! me! bc i'm still! single! Randall: so… you're looking for a fake bf then \\

Val dropped his phone and scrabbled for it in consummate horror.

🎶cucumber sluts🎶 ///

Johnny: literally how do they not already know Delia: [chanting] fake bf fake bf fake bf Val: @Randall NO WTF Val: @Johnny i do not fucking know Val: @Randall @Delia where tf u expect me to find one?? craigslist??? Johnny: FUCK no Delia: change ur grindr display name to looking4fakebf Johnny: did our pact against CL m4m personals mean NOTHING to you Randall: hell no, when is it? I could do it Sarah: write your number on the walls in the cruisey bathrooms. “if you're looking for a free vacation…” Ambrose: Do not Craigslist yr fake bf. I'm probably free, I'm down \\

Val stared at Ambrose's text, heart hiding in his throat from a great and complex emotion. Fear, mingled with nausea, mingled with something embarrassingly like hope, with a dash of butterflies. Fuck. He knew he shouldn't have told the groupchat. Of course his dumb loving supportive asshole friends would put him in this position.

🎶cucumber sluts🎶 ///

Johnny: yeah I'll need to know the dates but free vacay and scaring str8 fam? I'm in Delia: rlly glad I don't qualify bc I am definitely not that good a friend Sarah: @Delia mood Val: omg… uh… June 18 to 25??? Johnny: oh, I'll be in toronto then Ambrose: Works for me! Randall: … that's right on top of my top surgery : ( Delia: tag, am's it Val: jdkdkf i don't deserve y'all \\

/////

Ambrose graduated on a full ride as an upright bass performance major. It was how they'd met in their freshman year; Val, who kept up his cello practice but wasn't conservatory-serious, was very proud to have qualified for last-chair cello at their alma mater's open-audition orchestra. Ambrose was first-chair bass; they'd ended up right next to each other.

When, some months later, Val went to a solo performance of Am's — the first time he'd seen him play alone and face-on — Val had thought of angels in Bible stories starting off their messages to mortals with 'Be not afraid'. Terror, awe, and wonder. Beauty, profound unto fear. The controlled, graceful force of Ambrose's physicality onstage translated sonically into sensitive poignancy and overwhelming technical brilliance.

This might have been a detached, platonic kind of audience experience, except that Ambrose was also stupid gorgeous. His neatly-trimmed beard went ginger at the corners of his jaw, which was as masterfully planed as the rest of his face– the arching cheekbones, the soulful eyebrows, the elegant lines of his aquiline nose. He'd taken the braid he usually put his midback-length brown hair into and fixed it behind his head in lustrous, petal-like coils. Seeing him in performance had utterly destroyed Val's determination to remain attracted to Ambrose only in a friendly, casual way.

And now, five years later, they were all out of school and living in the city, and Ambrose was going to be his damn date to the family reunion. He'd have been the cock of the walk, just intolerably smug about this, had it been real; as a charade, the idea was nerve-wracking.

Mamá ///

Val: I'm coming with a +1! but I want y'all to meet in person, so you'll have to be patient >: ) \\

/////

“I'm kinda freaked,” Val admitted, slumped on the hideous synthetic couch. “I have no idea how we're going to pull this off.”

Ambrose snorted, then pulled together a reassuring face, from the next cushion over. “You said your family's not super conservative or anything, right? I think it's going to be easier than you expect.”

“Yeah?” Val asked, voice cracking a bit. “Ya think? Because you haven't met my family, they are incredibly nosy people. They're gonna want volumes of relationship minutia on an unpredictable profusion of topics, and I have no idea where we're getting any of it!”

“We'll use the truth, with minimal elaboration,” Ambrose said, quietly confident — unlike Val, who found the statement flustering. “The development of most friendships and most relationships aren't that different, in terms of the events that make them up. How did we meet?”

Val thought. “I was last chair cello, you were first chair bass, and our stands were right by each other.”

Ambrose paused a moment, then, leadingly, “And?”

“And,” Val said, realization dawning on him, “I dropped my rosin and went to pick it up, but you went for it too, and we bumped heads. Oh my god.”

Ambrose was grinning. “That's a meetcute, and every word of it is the unvarnished truth.”

… a compromising thing to hear Ambrose say unexpectedly. This plan was going to involve a lot of this sweetest of tortures. Val prayed for strength.

“Someone wants to know what attracted you to me? Pick something about my appearance you'd give a sincere compliment about anyway,” Ambrose said maddeningly, “my hair, my beard, or something else you could actually say with a straight face. What do you like about me? Something you admire anyway. Talk about things we've done as friends as if they were dates. That sort of thing.”

“Doable,” Val said with a dry mouth.

“The key is going to be making sure we don't contradict each other in suspicious ways,” Ambrose continued. “If we can spin it as a familiar disagreement, that's one thing, but if we're just straight-up caught in mutually-incompatible fictions…”

“So if I make something up when you're not around, I tell you about it,” Val said. “And vice versa.”

Ambrose nodded. “And when we're together, we should try not to both respond to the same question, because then we have to resolve mismatched lies. So if we both start talking at once, we just break off and negotiate who answers.”

Val frowned. “Isn't that gonna, I dunno, look sus?”

“Making lots of eye contact?” Ambrose said wryly. “Communicating silently? Making knowing faces, like we're laughing over a private joke? Val, that won't make us look phony, it'll make us look married.“

God. He's gonna keep saying shit like this. All. Week. Long.

“You know what is going to give us away,” Ambrose said, and left the thought there.

“No? What?”

“You want to convince your family that girls aren't gonna cut it, right?” Ambrose said. “Like, show that you've got chemistry with dudes like you don't with girls. That means public displays of physical affection, which shouldn't be too difficult to do convincingly.”

Again, Val steeled his resolve.

“I mean, we're a touchy bunch,” Ambrose continued, oblivious. “But it's gonna look fucking weird if we're first-kiss awkward, I've-never-seen-your-face-from-this-angle-and-it-looks-different-up-close in front of your family.”

Aiming, with reasonable success, for a mocking tone, Val said, “Just to be clear: you're suggesting that we should practice kissing.”

Ambrose was unperturbed. “Yeah.”

“Just, y'know, to make sure we're good at it, like for high school, when we get girlfriends and everything,” Val continued, picking up steam.

Am rolled his eyes. “Yes, you're welcome, aren't you lucky you've got a thoughtful friend like me?”

“Oh, one hundred percent, bro,” Val said, reaching the limits of his knowledge of how adolescent boys talk who have any aspirations to heterosexuality. “What are friends for, if not teaching each other how to kiss in my childhood bedroom, sitting on my Spiderman duvet, underneath my Smiths poster?”

“Val, shut the fuck up,” Ambrose said. He cupped his hand on the left side of Val's face, looked him in the eye in a silent request for permission, and pulled their mouths together, long-lashed eyelids fluttering closed.

Simple, sweet, a press of the lips that lingered a moment before pulling away. Val's heart pounded in his ears. When he opened his eyes, Ambrose was staring right back at him, hand still on Val's face.

“Now you do me,” Ambrose said, clearly determined to give Val a heart attack.

“Yeah, we should kiss again,” Val said, irony breathless and slightly askew, “just to make sure—”

“Val, oh my god,” Ambrose said, taking his hand back to rub at the bridge of his nose as he laughed helplessly. “If you want to look like an awkward teenager afraid to kiss your fake boyfriend, it's your fu—”

Seeing Ambrose laughing from so close up did funny things to Val's insides, so — what the hell, it's now or never — he bent in to kiss the line at the corner of Am's mouth, stroking stray hairs in his sideburn towards the back of his head. Am dropped his hand away from his brow, and Val moved his own hands to sit lightly on Ambrose's neck, faced him more squarely, and pressed their lips together.

The kiss felt warmer than it could possibly be, from a strictly physical standpoint, as if heating coils in Val's face and chest and guts were starting to power up. He pulled away before that got incriminating. Jokes, smokescreen, Val needed to tell a joke right fucking now. He pulled out his psych major research project voice to say: “On a scale of one to five, how would you rate this adolescent sexual experimentation?”

“Three,” Ambrose said gravely, and continued over Val's gasp of betrayal. “You must be a prude, you didn't even slip me any tongue.”

“I'm not gonna French you in front of my fucking grandmother!”

/////

“Hey honey, I'm here,” Ambrose said with a grin as Val slid into the passenger seat. “How was work, darling?”

“Boring as fuck, branmuffin, let's get this catastrophe on the road.”

Ambrose had prepared a roadtrip mix CD, with sharpie label art titling it GAY AT THE FAMILY REUNION. Most of it was Am's standard “eclectic indie by homosexuals” sort of stuff, but a significant minority was music Am, Val, or both had contributed to — a chiptune-y composition of Val's, Randall's remix/cutup of Ambrose performing a few of the Unaccompanied Cello Suites, a close-harmony cover of Papa Was a Rodeo by the Magnetic Fields that both of them had sung for, and a duo that Delia had scored for the two of them for a final project one semester.

Sixteen bars into that last track, Val put his hand over his face and smiled crookedly. “God, having a side-by-side comparison of our tone production is unflattering.”

Ambrose frowned and looked at him in the rear-view. “I like this recording a lot, but I can skip it if it really bothers you.”

Val's mouth went dry. “No, it's fine, I'm just—”

”... being self-deprecating,” Am said, smiling softly; Val stuck his tongue out at that. “Cello isn't your dayjob or your central calling, but you find time, you put the work in, and you sound good. Our tones blend well, and you're a joy to play with. Don't knock yourself.”

“Thank you,” Val said, because his mama raised him right, and also the compliment made him feel weird and flushed and choked up in a way that made finding anything else to say complicated.

“Besides, this is our hype playlist. Our musical collaborations are must-haves.” Waggling his eyebrows goofily, Ambrose concluded: “If we want to sell your meddling family on your immutable homosexuality, we'll have to pump up on our interpersonal synergy.”

Val snorted. “'Interpersonal synergy'? Dude, are you sure you weren't a business major?”

The song changed as Ambrose flipped him off. “Shut the fuck up and listen to Death of a Tune, Val, I have never been so insulted in my life.”

/////

🎶cucumber sluts🎶 ///

Johnny: so uh Johnny: how's fake dating going Ambrose: Pretty smoothly so far. Val: it's day 1 and he gave aunt margaret the Jennifer-Lawrence-for-fckh8_Vers-rights!.jpeg.wav Val: so you tell me! Sarah: typical mansplaining behavior \\

/////

🌹AmBrosé🥂 ///

Val: okay so you agree with me now that it would have been a bad idea to bring the upright, yeah?? Ambrose: Well, it's not like this acoustic bass guitar is any less flammable… Val: zero humidity! 28°F! bonfire!! Ambrose: But what if this old-time family jam sesh had an upright? Much to consider! \\

/////

Val took the first shift driving home in the still-golden evening, an exquisite melancholy shading the car as they traced the harrowing mountain roads.

“What do you think I should say to my mom about the fake breakup?” Val asked without preamble, voice steady, eyes fixed firmly on the road. “And like, when should…”

He trailed off, and for a while it seemed like Ambrose wasn't going to answer the question. Or look at him, even.

“I mean.” Ambrose spoke slowly, his face in Val's peripheral vision painted rosy-glorious by the sunset as they turned briefly West on a switchback. “Do you have to?”

Val stilled.

“Like, do we have to?” Ambrose was, somehow, still going, and now he was looking at Val as he spoke. “Because, I dunno about you, but this— like, being physically and emotionally close this way felt, I dunno, nice? Natural? Like, I definitely wouldn't mind doing this as a long-term gig.”

Val pulled over, something that wasn't a panic attack bubbling up in his chest.

“I mean, we don't gotta do anything you don't wanna, and maybe I shoulda told you—”

“Ambrose,” Val croaked, barely keeping his buzzing, airy head off the steering wheel.

“— but after the, uh, practice kissing? That I suggested on my own? I kinda figured out I- I'm into you in a not-fake way, and I didn't know what to do about it—”

“Ambrose.”

“— and— yeah?”

Val turned to take in the adorable novelty of an anxious Ambrose. “Am, that's gay.”

Ambrose froze a beat, then smiled, small and bright and widening. “Yeah,” he breathed, “you like it?”

“Yes,” Val said, giggling near-silently, “yeah, I like it. I like you, since— oh my god, since forever—”

Ambrose blinked, taken somehow by surprise. “Really?”

“Oh god, 'really?' he says!” Val grabbed Am's hand and smiled lopsidedly. “Yeah, when I agreed to do this I was like—”

Val broke into audible hysterics as Am began to look suspiciously watery. “I was like, 'Fuck, pretending to date Ambrose is gonna be hell on Earth and he's gonna figure out I like him,' and it wasn't and you didn't? Am, this was the most fun I've had in years, yes we can date for real oh my god—”

Ambrose pulled in Val, still gulping with laughter, closer to kiss him on the nose. “If you start crying I'm going to start crying,” he said matter-of-factly, “which, like, that's not a threat, if we gotta cry that's fine, I just thought you should know—”

/////

🎶cucumber sluts🎶 ///

Ambrose: So. Ambrose: You're not gonna believe this Ambrose: But Val and I are dating IRL now. Johnny: aww FUCK Delia: hahahahhaahhaahaha Randall: ii am too high on pian meds for the aomunt of mone yijust lost Sarah: I told yall not to trust her! but did any1 listen to me? no Delia: my #faith is #strong and #i am #victorious Delia: [img] \\

“Oh my god,” Ambrose said. “They ran a betting pool on us.”

The image linked was a screenshot for a different group message, texts dated to late May.

👀hidden cucumbers🕴 ///

Delia: so i've read a lot of fanfiction in my life and Delia: i think val and amby are gonna come back from the reunion dating forreal Delia: and i am willing to wager $20 on that prediction Sarah: no delia Sarah: not again delia Randall: This is not ao3 Delia Sarah: literally never again delia Delia: my yaoi tropes don't lie #itsFate Johnny: randy's right this shit doesn't happen irl Sarah: dont do it!!! youre playing right into her hands!!!!!!! Randall: I'll ante up to that Johnny: yeah adding my $20 to the pot Delia: ／人◕ w ◕人＼the contract is sealed Sarah: yall will learn! \\

“Who?” Val demanded. “Who bet on us?”

“I guess Delia wagered we'd come back from the reunion together?” Ambrose said slowly, blushing to an unprecedented degree.

Val was too furious to appreciate it. “Oh, that slimy skank!” he screeched, and pulled over to grab his phone. “She's not getting away with it this time!”

“Getting away with what?”

🎶cucumber sluts🎶 ///

Delia: blockedt! blockedt! blockedtt! none of you are tru #beliebers Sarah: im Always right and nobody Ever listens 2 me Randall: ud better smoke me out w that 8 Johnny: fuk u dell Johnny: @Randall pls tell me ur not paying 60 for 8s Ambrose: What is wrong with all of you Val: DELIA U DEVIOUS HOE Johnny: oh boy Delia: yes that's me Val: U MARTHA STEWART ASS Randall: yes val rdag ha Johnny: @Val what Val: INSIDE TRADING BITCH Johnny: @Delia WHAT Ambrose: @Val @Delia What Sarah: i knew! i knew it!! shez up to her old trix! Ambrose: He hasn't told me what this is about Delia: baseless accusations Val: ONCE AGAIN U HAVE PROFITED OFF THE GOOD FAITH OF YR FRIENDS THRU DECEPTIVE GAMBLUNG PRACTICES Delia: slanderous Ambrose: I don't understand Val: ON INFORMATION TOLD TO U IN CONFIDENCE Johnny: … wait Johnny: were u holding out on us Delia: u gamble w the best u die like the rest Randall: i mso confused Ambrose: @Randall Big same Val: UVE KNOWN I HAD A CRUSH ON AMBROSE SINCE SOPHOMORE! YEAR!!!!! Randall: hoyl shit Johnny: this is BULLSHIT Delia: unprovable Val: oh is it?? IS IT DELIA??? Randall: im keepign my momey Val: receipts incoming!!!! [img] Sarah: that aint a wig on ha head but! its! coming! off! anyway! \\

This image was a screenshot of an individual text thread, messages dated back five years.

devious evil lying insidious asshole ///

Delia: so for my final i gotta write a piece n get it together to perform @ a recital Delia: do u wanna be one of my performers Val: probly, i've got fuckoff classes omly this sem. whens the recital? Delia: weds finals week 7pm Val: yeah i can do that Delia: cool cool cool Val: wgat were u gonna write Val: *what Delia: I was thinking of writing a duet Val: what instrs Delia: violoncello and contrabass : D Val: you wouldn't Delia: ambrose already agreed and so did u so… I think I already did >; ) Val: gdi delia!! Delia: sure, just don't thank me for this fantastic opportunity to finally ask him out! I don't feel unappreciated or anything Val: THANKS JERK MY COWARDLY ASS IS NEVER DOING THAT \\

“Oh, my god, she's a fucking— like some kinda evil genius puppetmistress—”

“What?” Val asked, and then— just because he could— he unbuckled his seatbelt and kissed Ambrose. Ambrose giggled as he looked up at Val, stroking the curls at the crown of his head.

“She told me you'd already agreed to do it at brunch, like, two hours before those texts. I didn't wanna commit to playing with some rando that semester, but she said the cellist was you, so I went for it…”

“Oh my god,” Val said, covering his mouth, “You agreed because you wanted to play with me?”

Ambrose pulled Val's hand away from his mouth and kissed him. Beaming up at him, beautiful as anything, he said “Of course I did. I don't think I've ever been subtle about wanting you to think I was cool.”

Val made a strangled noise. “How the fuck was that even in ques—” Ambrose cut him off by nipping at the side of his neck, and suddenly the storytelling could wait.

🎶cucumber sluts🎶 ///

Sarah: calledt out!!!! Johnny: unethical smdh Delia: printing business cards w “devious evil lying insidious asshole” as we speak Delia: anyway Delia: faked screenshots? who ever heard of those Randall: @Delia give up Sarah: @Delia mr_fantastic_reaching.gif Johnny: @Delia rigged bet? who ever heard of that Delia: please my family is starving Sarah: @Delia stfu Randall: @Delia dtfy Johnny: @Delia stfu Ambrose: fjgogpwp Ambrose: df. as Ambrose: . m Johnny: uhhh Ambrose: skappf ds Randall: @Ambrose u ok Ambrose: jlkg Johnny: what is happening Delia: I'll tell you what's happening Ambrose: c g. Delia: they're making out Ambrose: gdo Delia: and he's texting w/his bare skin Sarah: fuck! Delia: @Sarah they're gonna 😎 Ambrose: ascj vb Randall: @Ambrose turn it off Delia: 🤔 jw, is it possible to accidentally call a groupchat? Sarah: @Ambrose TURN YOUR PHONE OFF Johnny: @Ambrose PLS Ambrose: aadc aaaa saaaa Sarah: @Val TELL AMBROSE TO TURN HIS PHONE OFD Delia: @Val @Ambrose wrap it up kids! #safersex Randall: am i dyign? is this hell Ambrose: gbbhhbbb \\