you and jj had an unspoken rule: don’t make it a thing. whatever it was—whether it was the way he’d sling an arm around your shoulders like it was second nature or the secret smiles you shared—it stayed in the gray area between friendship and something more. no labels, no mess. the pogues, though? they weren’t stupid. they saw how you two gravitated toward each other, how jj always seemed softer around you. no one called it out, but the jokes and side-eyes were getting harder to ignore.

that sunset, the five of you had staked out a spot on the beach as the sun dipped below the horizon. the sky was painted with streaks of gold and pink, the waves glowing in the fading light. the pogues lounged on the sand, swapping stories and stealing chips from each other, but you and jj had wandered off, knee-deep in the water.

the tension felt as natural as the waves. you and jj were acting like kids, splashing around as if nothing else existed. he’d dunked you under a wave, and you retaliated with a splash so big it nearly knocked him over.

“alright, that’s it,” jj said, wading toward you with a wicked grin. “you’re done for.”

you squealed, trying to escape, but he caught your arm, spinning you around in the water. both of you were laughing so hard you barely noticed the pogues watching from the shore.

from their spot on the sand, the pogues watched, amused.

“they’re ridiculous,” kie said, shaking her head as she brushed sand off her leg.

john b smirked, leaning back on his elbows. “they’ve got their rule, remember? don’t make it a thing…”