Chapter Text
Shayne’s finger was incessantly tapping against his crossed arms. His breaths came out in slow exhales. The warmth pooled underneath his facemask and seeped up towards his eyes. He blinked away the annoying sensation and took the moment to fiddle with his mask – adjust it a little so he wasn’t breathing straight into his eyes.
Smosh was abuzz with activity. It was their first day back at work, albeit in a limited capacity. It was the biggest relief imaginable to be back in the studio, like coming home after a long vacation. Everything was so paradoxically familiar, yet so different. The usually busy and crowded halls were sparsely packed. People pointedly kept their distance from one another – hell, Ian was going around with a stick, nudging people apart when they got too close. Socially distanced filming was going to be a challenge, but Shayne was all for the right precautions in these trying times.
And of course, there were the masks. They took lots of forms. From the standard surgical masks, to the N95 masks, and the trendy designer masks to ye olde handkerchief tied up over the face.
It was with great joy that Shayne found everyone to be complying dutifully with the mask policies in Smosh. They only ever came off during certain instances, such as when filming. And that was after they had tested negative and been cleared. And even then, after having just been tested, Shayne wasn’t eager to drop the mask. He didn’t plan on doing so until the cameras were rolling.
It was weird seeing people in person with their masks down. He sometimes had to stop himself from doing a double take, because oh right, that’s what the lower half of a human face looks like.
Not that he was complaining. The world was long overdue for a return to normalcy, even if it was just a partial one. Even if they had to do it step by step and minute by minute.
Today was a bit of a milestone for Smosh, since it would be their first socially distanced shoot. The script of this EBE, and everything else was already in order. They’d nailed down all those finer points during their e-meetings the weeks prior.
Now, all they were waiting on were the rest of the test results. Everyone that showed up today had already been tested, waited three to five days for the results, and tested negative. But Ian wanted to be doubly safe, rather than the entire studio being sorry. So, Smosh had a little licensed group of testers setup outside in a tent, where it was well ventilated, and risk of transmission was minimal. Shayne thumbed the small green dash on his wrist – the stamp they’d placed after he tested negative barely an hour ago.
The swab was a rather unpleasant experience, especially with just how deeply they jammed the damn thing up his nose. With a wince and a nasally voice, Shayne had asked if it was necessary to dig that deep. The nurse had answered him with a halfhearted shrug and a cringe-inducing turn of the swab – this was how to get reliable results.
Shayne twitched his nose to rid himself of the off-putting sensation. He continued to fidget from where he stood, shifting his weight from foot to foot, eyes scanning the well-spaced crowd, adjusting his mask – anything to try and distract himself.
Because the swab test’s discomfort was nothing compared to the unease that rumbled in his gut.
Courtney had gone into the testing tent a whole thirty minutes ago and had yet to emerge. Shayne was in and out in ten, so there was no telling what the cause for delay was.
A complication? Could she have tested positive?
Shayne let out a sharp exhale to clear the thought.
No, no. That couldn’t be it.
Courtney was one of the most careful people he knew. She took the pandemic as dead seriously as he and the rest of the squad did. She stayed home and kept her quarantine bubble small. It was a statistical improbability for her to have tested positive – and where would she have possibly gotten it from? Infected spittle from a no-contact toilet paper delivery because someone didn’t wear a mask?
Shayne frowned from beneath his own mask since that wasn’t all too farfetched.
There was a lot to be said about how long the virus survived outside of a host, how long it could hang around the air. The virus was a hardy thing that had no right to be so damn infectious and difficult to deal with. If it could pose a risk by simply hanging around the air after a careless sneeze – well, who was to say it couldn’t cling to the plastic wrapping of a shipment of toilet paper?
Shayne thumped the back of his head against the wall he was leaning against.
Courtney was fine.
She had to be fine.
His eyes peered on towards the tent, where he couldn’t so much as catch a glimpse of her blonde head of hair. That same stupid, gorgeous blonde head of hair that he looked forward to seeing in every video call.
Shayne had been eager to see her. A little more badly than he cared to admit. It was a long couple of months since they’d last seen each other in person. Today, he didn’t even get the chance to wave a greeting in her direction. Courtney was ushered straight into the testing tent before he could see so much as a glimpse of her.
Courtney had played a large part in keeping him sane the past few months.
Shayne liked to think he did the same for her.
It had all started after one Smoshcast or another. Shayne’s setup at home wasn’t exactly ideal for podcasting and general mic usage. To be heard, he had to make it a point to lean in towards his desk. If he just yammered on while leaning back in his comfy chair, the audio would be no good.
That was one reason he’d been less talkative as of late. The other reason was that he was going out of his fucking mind being cooped up. The monotonous sight of his own home – while not exactly three walls and a cell door – were grating on his nerves. He was trapped like an animal in a cage. Like he was a raccoon, and the world was his dumpster, and animal control had finally locked him up.
Shayne once more knocked the back of his head against the wall.
It was Courtney who noticed Shayne’s poor condition and dwindling sanity. After everyone had left the call and he was ready to get back to an exciting afternoon – staring at his wall, forcing himself to do a half-assed workout, stuffing his face with instant ramen – Courtney had surprised him.
Checking in on your friends and their mental health had always been a good practice. In quarantine, it was ten times as important.
Their little Facetime session went on for hours that day. They talked about anything and everything well into the evening.
When Shayne closed his eyes, it was like being back in the studio. He could practically see Courtney sitting on the edge of his desk. The corner of her mouth was quirked up in a mischievous smirk as she distracted him. There were scripts to be reviewed but all he could focus on was Courtney. The slurping sound as she sucked up the last remnants of her Starbucks. The faint scent of vanilla that came from either her coffee or her perfume. And of course, the finger she’d be poking him or his laptop with just to be annoying.
Yet when he opened his eyes and broke his little fantasy, he was still at home, all alone. But the sight of Courtney on his screen – hair up in a messy bun, dancing in her kitchen as she cooked up an amalgamation of kimchi and ramen – shit, he couldn’t remember the last time he smiled that widely.
Needless to say, Courtney made his entire day.
Shayne just didn’t expect her to go on and make his entire damn quarantine too with her near daily calls.
And now she was in that testing tent for – Shayne checked his watch again – forty-three minutes, and fuck he was not prepared to hear that his girl was down with the ‘rona.
Shayne snorted and the warm puff of air fanned his eyes.
His girl.
As if their Facetime flirtations would amount to anything. Knowing his luck, his latent and long-buried feelings for Courtney were bubbling back up just to be burst in the most spectacularly embarrassing manner. Sure, there was the occasional suggestive joke and refusal to hang up until either of them was on the cusp of sleep.
That didn’t count.
If Shayne’s messed up relationships had taught him anything, it was to never read too much into someone else’s words and actions. Doing that got you hurt. Getting hurt sucked. So, until Courtney made it crystal clear she was into him, there was no way he was putting himself out there. Shayne wasn’t about to ruin their friendship because he was lonely and growing way too attached to her.
But then there she was stepping out of the testing tent with a spring in her step, her golden hair bouncing with each stride like all was right in the world. Her eyes were creased in a smile hidden beneath her makeshift mask – black and adorned with a pattern of sunflowers.
Even beneath the mask, Shayne could tell Courtney’s smile looked like a sunflower in bloom. With those striking eyes like a healthy green stem for the golden petals that were her hair. He didn’t know how it was possible for someone to look so beautiful when he could barely see more than a third of her face.
Shayne realized he was staring.
He tried to avert his eyes, really.
(Not really)
The fact that she was walking straight towards him probably had something to do with it.
Shayne willed his brain to do something other than be overwhelmed by the fact Courtney was drawing closer with each stride of those long legs.
And of course, he just had to notice how good her toned legs were looking in the late morning sun.
Fuck.
Shayne tried not to stare. He really did.
(Not really)
Shayne thumped the back of his head against the wall a final time as Courtney stopped a socially distanced two meters away.
It was then that it hit him. When Courtney raised an arm up, hand easily hanging back without a care in the world. She had that same green dash stamped onto her wrist.
She’d tested negative.
The relief washed over him. It allowed him to finally feel something other than either anxiety or raw infatuation. The look must have been plain on his masked face, because Courtney’s well-groomed brows furrowed – perplexed, maybe a little amused.
Shayne was glad that Courtney broke the silence first. He wasn’t sure how to form coherent sentences in that moment.
“Stamp buddy?” Courtney waved her wrist in emphasis, and Shayne could practically hear the grin in her voice.
It was contagious, because Shayne was smiling right back underneath his mask. How could he not?
Shayne pushed himself off the wall to stand straight. As he did, he revealed the matching green dash on his wrist. With a nod, he confirmed, “Stamp buddies.”
The growing crease around Courtney’s eyes was the most endearing thing Shayne had seen in recent memory. It was soon followed by a tilt of the head and a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. He followed the motion over to the nearby corner. It led to the side of the studio, where only the maintenance folks would pass by.
Shayne was powerless to resist as Courtney took slow, deliberate steps around the corner and away from prying eyes. His legs moved on their own, bewitched by his favorite blonde siren’s call. They came to a stop around the corner, a good two meters away from one another. For the first time in months, they were alone together.
To prevent his lonely and touch-starved self from getting any bright ideas, Shayne asked, “What took you so long in there?”
Courtney’s shoulders bobbed with a casual shrug. “They had like, some kind of storage issue with the tests. They swabbed me twice because the first wasn’t getting results,” There was a noticeably displeased twitch of her nose beneath the handkerchief, “But anyway, I’m fine.”
Her eyes fixed on Shayne’s wrist as she added, “We’re fine.”
And so they were.
It was exceedingly difficult to stay where he was, leaning one shoulder on the wall. The two meters between them felt like two miles with how Courtney was just assailing his senses. The soothing tone of her voice which had lulled him to sleep on a few occasions. The sweet vanilla in the air which was undoubtedly her perfume this time and not her morning coffee. And the sight of her – Jesus – Shayne couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Her halo of blonde hair, her lively green eyes, the subtle flex of muscle along her arm as she set a hand on her hip.
Shayne missed seeing her face – her cute nose and the even cuter smile beneath it. That damned smile he wanted to press his lips right up to.
But of course, he wasn’t about to do that.
He was too chickenshit.
There was no use putting himself out there and even beginning to express the notion that he was interested in Courtney. It would all just go and fuck itself up the –
“Oh my God, Shayne,” Courtney’s voice – louder this time – snapped him out of his thoughts. “Did you hear a word that I just said?”
Shayne blinked and licked his very dry lips behind his mask. He gave a halfhearted shrug to brush it off and raised his voice a pitch higher, “Yeah, ‘course I did.”
“Yeah,” Courtney mimicked his poor façade of nonchalance. “Really? What did I say?”
With a deep breath, Shayne knew he wasn’t digging his way out of this grave, but he was prepared to commit. He started off safe, “You…”
Courtney’s head tilted in expectation.
“Like…”
Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Butts.”
A loud huff erupted from beneath Courtney’s sunflower mask. She was quick to cover it up with a scoff and the defiant crossing of her arms. “You’re so dumb. Stop.”
Shayne feigned confusion and leaned in a fraction. His hands shot up in a show of exasperation, “What? Is that not what you said?”
“It’s not,” Courtney paused for just a moment as her head lolled to one side as if taking him in from a different angle. Her hand adjusted her makeshift mask. “You were too busy checkin’ me out to hear me.”
It was Shayne’s turn to sputter and scoff, and ultimately be glad the mask was concealing his flushed cheeks. The comeback was on the tip of his tongue, but Courtney stepping a foot closer effectively silenced him.
The fabric of Courtney’s mask shifted – as if she were about to follow up and knock him down with her quick wit. Instead, silence hung in the air as her bright green eyes ran all around his face. The familiar mischievous glint was joined by something else – a look, an emotion that Shayne couldn’t quite place.
Shayne wasn’t sure when he met her in the middle with a step forward. Maybe her perfume was laced with some kind of horndog-attracting pheromones. Maybe it was a minor shift in the Earth’s gravity. Maybe he really was just a sap that was falling hard, chickenshit or not.
Yet Shayne tempered the anticipation that swirled and fluttered in his stomach. That look Courtney was giving him could mean anything. It didn’t matter that all humor had left her expression. It didn’t matter that she was looking at him like a hungry wolf – he was surely just reading too much into –
“Fuck, Shayne,” Courtney took yet another step closer – close enough for Ian to swat them with his social distancing stick if he caught them.
Her brows pitched together in a frown, and he could imagine the snarl underneath her mask. “Stop looking at me like that!”
It was Shayne’s turn to look at Courtney incredulously – because if he was looking at her any one way, she was looking at him with twice the intensity of whatever the expression was. She was projecting. But Shayne lacked the articulation to point that out. Under her sharp, accusatory gaze, all he could stutter out was, “W-what? Looking at you like what?”
“Like you wanna…” Courtney trailed off. Her piercing green eyes flitted from his own and down to the mask, then up again.
“What?”
“Don’t make me say it,” Courtney groaned, and all the suspicion slinked out of her gaze. In its place was just that look directed back and forth between his eyes and his facemask.
The drone of chatter and activity around the corner faded out as it began to dawn on Shayne how close they were. In place of all the hubbub, the only thing Shayne could hear was their breathing – heavy, restrained, waiting.
Courtney’s hand landed on Shayne’s chest. She thumbed the fabric as her hand slid up and stopped just by his neck. Her sunflower mask shifted once more – Shayne could imagine her soft lips parted, considering her next few words.
While Shayne didn’t want to rush her, he was also drawn to her touch like a moth to a flame. There were just inches between them when his hand found its place on Courtney’s hip. His thumb drew idle patterns against her skin in the gap between her clothes. It prompted Courtney to tilt her head ever so slightly – like she’d gulped down the previous words she settled on.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for like months.”
The implication was clear as day when Courtney’s thumb brushed against his mask. But just the same, Shayne was afraid of jumping to –
“Can I kiss you?”
Shayne gulped.
The butterflies madly fluttering in his stomach were on overdrive. His brain was in the middle of blowing out a fuse as his neurons were fried. The request was just barely processed. That might have been why the nodding of his head didn’t match his answer of, “Is this allowed?”
Courtney’s fingers eased her handkerchief down to settle by her neck.
One would have thought it would be impossible to be this stunned and tongue-tied over seeing a cute lady’s face up close. Whoever thought so had clearly never met Courtney. That gorgeous, coy smile would be the end of Shayne.
Her pearly whites peeked free as she grinned and responded, “Probably not.”
Every fiber of his being was on board, save for his mind. His mind was too busy being chickenshit and prompting him to say things like, “Ian probably wouldn’t approve.”
Rather than dissuading Courtney, it appeared to goad her on. Shayne did absolutely nothing to stop Courtney from gently tugging down on his mask. Her momentum was then broken when she came face to face with his Gus Johnson mustache.
Courtney – now temporarily unmasked – wore her grimace plain as day.
It earned a sharp chuckle from Shayne. “Having second thoughts?”
Still cringing, Courtney muttered, “Some, yeah.”
Despite the lightheartedness in Courtney’s tone, Shayne still felt the need to offer her the chance to bail out. “Y’know, Court – if you don’t wanna-”
“Shayne,” Courtney cut him off. Her hand eased up to cup his face, fingertips brushing along the pink indentation his mask left. The contact drew a wave of tingles across his skin.
“Yeah?”
Courtney bit her lip for just a moment – a movement that Shayne watched far too closely. “Stamp buddies?”
A soft huff of laughter slipped out as Shayne nodded. It would be fine. They were literally just tested. “Stamp buddies.”
And just to be annoying, Shayne reiterated, “This is still probably breaking the rules though.”
Instead of the expected eyeroll, Courtney simply smiled all the more with that signature twinkle of mischief. Her face drew ever closer to his own as she whispered her agreement, “Yeah, probably.”
“Ooh, rulebreaker,” Shayne was sputtering goofs out to cover up his nerves at this point, even as their noses brushed together. Courtney’s breath fanning his face was enough to make his knees weak as he muttered, “I’ve always wanted to kiss a bad girl.”
The corner of Courtney’s lips gave a playful quirk as she paused barely centimeters from his own. “Lucky you.”
It was the last thing Shayne heard before their lips met and all he could sense was Courtney. The scent of vanilla hanging in the air around her. The taste of her pinacolada lip balm. The feeling of her fingers caressing his face and just how supple her lips felt against his own. Shayne couldn’t help himself – he sneaked a half-lidded peek, to confirm that this was all real and not an elaborate daydream. The soft, contented look on Courtney’s face was enough.
As Courtney pressed the rest of her body against his own, the wave of butterflies in his stomach intensified before abruptly settling down. A certain calmness filled him down to the bones. He was weightless. All the damn loneliness and anxiety over the past few months felt so small and inconsequential. All of Shayne’s worries were swept away with a brush of her lips. Courtney’s effect on him was supernatural.
The world around him could have fully surrendered to 2020 and he wouldn’t have noticed.