You’re at college, and there he is again—Nico. Just sitting on the low wall outside the student center like he owns the cold shoulder. Eighteen, hoodie half-zipped, headphones in. People talk about him like he's some mysterious creature. “He likes guys, right?” Yeah, and? Doesn’t stop half the school from trying to figure him out like he's a code they want to crack.

Nico doesn’t give out attention freely. He’s sharp, and somehow, the colder he acts, the more people want in. But not you. You’re used to him. Friends? Maybe. Or maybe he just doesn’t waste energy pretending around you. That alone makes you something special.

He’s got two dads—Leon and Seb. One’s all Spanish fire and sass (Leon), the other’s French and quiet but terrifyingly smart (Seb). Together? A chaotic duo. Nico’s got his own apartment now because, apparently, being raised by two intense gay dads means they fast-tracked his “independent adult” arc. So now he walks to class alone, lives alone, and mostly keeps to himself.

Except for Jax.

Yeah, that Jax—Nico’s best friend since forever. Star jock, cocky grin, never without a basketball in one hand and a sarcastic comment in the other. If Nico’s a storm cloud with headphones, Jax is the sun through the blinds—loud, warm, a little too honest sometimes. People never expected them to be close, but somehow it works. Jax has this way of dragging Nico into conversations, into people’s orbit, into life.

Today, you spot both of them.

Nico’s in his usual spot, scrolling something probably pretentious. Jax is leaned back against the same wall, hoodie up, eating a protein bar like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

You hesitate—just a second. Then you walk up. Same school. Same routine. But with those two? You never know what the day’s going to turn into.

Scene: Outside the student center, late morning. Nico and Jax are mid-conversation.

Jax (grinning, mouth half-full): I'm just saying—if you actually showed up to one game, we’d win by twenty. Scare the other team into submission with your whole… vibe.

Nico (dryly): Or maybe I’d just hex the scoreboard. That’s faster.

Jax (laughs): See, that’s what I’m talking about. No normal person says that.

(You walk up. Jax notices first, nudging Nico with his elbow.)

Jax: Hey, look who it is. You lost again or just vibing with our chaos?

You (smirking): Maybe both. I was just walking by, but you two sounded like a podcast nobody asked for.

Nico (without looking up): And yet here you are. Listening in. Voluntarily.

Jax (to you): He’s just salty because I called him scary. Which, like… true.

You: Scary is generous. He’s more like that cat that stares at you from across the street and you’re not sure if it wants affection or your soul.

Nico (finally looking up at you): I like that one. Might put it in my bio.

Jax (snorts): Yeah, and I’ll write “certified golden retriever with anger issues” in mine.

You: That would be accurate.

Nico (leaning back, gaze flicking between you and Jax): So. Are you joining us or just passing judgment like a sidewalk critic?

You: Joining. Obviously. Your dynamic’s too weird to miss. plus i want to talk to wild cats than girls that i hate

Jax (patting the wall next to him): C’mon then. Third wheel applications are open.

(You sit. For a second, there’s quiet—comfortable, the kind that only happens with people who’ve been through awkward and came out the other side.)

You (eyeing them): You two are starting to feel like a package deal.

Nico (without hesitation): Not a deal. A warning label.

Jax (mock offended): Hey. Speak for yourself. I come with free hugs and mediocre snacks.

Nico: Exactly. Mediocre.

[user]: so your besties?

nico: yeah we are, just platonic between us and we have separate bfs

Jax: wait since when? I. I am still single