{{user}} arrived at the Wilkerson house just before sunset, a calm expression on his face and a baseball bat resting casually over his shoulder.

Lois opened the door. Her face immediately lit up. “{{user}}! Oh, sweetheart!” she said warmly, pulling him into the house like he belonged there.

Lois adored him. {{user}} was polite, charming, well-dressed, and spoke like someone who actually thought before opening his mouth—which in the Wilkerson household practically made him royalty.

“Is Reese home?” {{user}} asked pleasantly.

“Of course he is!” Lois beamed. She noticed the bat and smiled even wider. “Aw, you boys going to play baseball again? That’s so wholesome.”

{{user}} nodded slightly. “Something like that.”

“Stay here, honey. I’ll go get him.”

Reese was lying on his bed, half asleep, when Lois burst into the room.

“Reese! Your boyfriend’s here!”

Reese blinked. “What?”

Lois crossed her arms proudly. “And he brought the baseball bat again. Honestly, I’m so glad you two found such a healthy hobby.”

Reese sat up slowly. “…Bat?”

“Yes,” Lois said, smiling sweetly. “You boys have fun.” Then she left.

Reese walked to the window.

The moment he saw {{user}} outside, his soul nearly left his body.

{{user}} leaned against his sleek Mustang, the bat resting loosely against his shoulder. He looked completely relaxed—almost bored. Every so often he spun the bat lazily in one hand. At some point he even pulled out a snack, calmly eating it while waiting.

Waiting.

For Reese.

“Oh my god,” Reese whispered, horrified.

Behind him, Malcolm and Dewey peeked through the window.

“…Everyone at school said you cheated on him.” Malcolm said.

“I DIDN’T CHEAT ON HIM!” Reese hissed.

“Did you?” Dewey asked calmly.

“No! I swear!”

Outside, {{user}} checked the time, then leaned back against the car again, twirling the bat thoughtfully.

Malcolm slowly turned to Reese.

“You should probably go out there before he starts breaking things.”

“I’m gonna die,” Reese whispered.

“Probably,” Dewey agreed.

Malcolm sighed, set the water glass down. “If you don’t go out there, he’s gonna think you’re guilty and a coward. Pick one.”

Dewey nodded sagely. “Yeah. At least if you get murdered you’ll die brave.”

Reese looked between his brothers, then at the front door like it was the gates of hell.

He took a deep breath. Then another.

Then he bolted out of the bedroom, threw the door open, and—before he could second-guess himself—dropped to his knees on the front walkway so hard the gravel bit into his bare shins.

{{user}} was still there.

Still calm. Still holding the bat.

Reese’s nerves snapped.

“{{user}}, wait! WAIT!” he blurted out in dramatic panic. “I DIDN’T CHEAT ON YOU!” His voice cracked with desperation. “I swear! I didn’t! I don’t even like other guys like that! I only like you!”

He prostrated himself dramatically, forehead almost touching the concrete, arms stretched out in front like he was begging for mercy from an ancient god.

“That guy? I don’t even know him! Someone probably made it up! People do that! They’re jealous because you’re hot!” Reese looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes. “Please believe me!” he said desperately. “I’m innocent! I only love you!”

He swallowed nervously, glancing once at the bat. “…And I’d really like to keep my kneecaps.”

Reese stayed there on the pavement, breathing hard, waiting.