Chapter Text
Sunday
1998
A door slammed and Mac stirred. He kept his eyes closed, feeling himself begin to drift back into sleep until someone sharply cleared their throat. He jolted awake and looked up to see Barbara Reynolds above him, arms folded, in full black workout gear.
"Oh um...Good morning, Mrs. Reynolds." Mac said hoarsely, blinking himself awake and sitting up in his deck chair.
Barbara glared at him through narrowed eyes which flickered towards Dennis who was folded like a cat, snoring in the deck chair beside him
Mac reached to his left, shaking Dennis awake. His movement knocked a few empty beer bottles over by their feet. One rolled away, pausing dangerously close to the pool edge. Mac shook Dennis harder, with an apologetic glance towards Barbara.
Dennis hummed then sat up, looking around through bleary eyes. His curly hair stuck up oddly and Mac bit back a snigger.
"Your filthy friend is passed out on my Oscar Niemeyer sofa" Barbara said coldly, her narrowed eyes flitting back towards the house "He had better be gone by the time I get back."
Dennis nodded, rubbing at his face as Barbara turned away from them in disgust. Mac kept his eyes trained on her ass in her tight yoga pants as she matched away from the pool patio, towards the garage and out of sight. At some point in the night, Dennis had covered himself in Mac's leather jacket which had fallen to the patio floor. Mac shivered in the slightly cool morning air and snatched it, pulling it on with a muttered "Thief."
A car door slammed and there was a crunch of gravel as Mrs. Reynolds backed her Porsche out of the driveway.
It was still dark, the sky a hazy blue, but birds were just starting to chirp from the towering cluster of spruce trees at the far end of the Reynolds vast back garden. The grass was dewy with mist in the early summer morning.
"S'time?" Mac mumbled, shifting in his deck chair and rubbing at his hot stinging eyes
"Almost five." Dennis replied, checking his watch.
Mac fell back limply, closing his eyes with a groan
"Where the hell is your mom going this early?" he asked, grimacing at the sourness of his mouth and burgeoning hangover
"Pilates class at the country club on Sundays."
"That explains her ass" Mac huffed, looking longingly towards the direction of the driveway "I don't remember falling asleep."
"Most people don't" Dennis responded through a yawn
Yesterday had been Dennis's eighteenth birthday. Mac and Dennis had hung out by the pool most of the day and well into the night along with Dooley, Charlie and Schmitty. Thankfully Dee was far away in upstate New York, working as a camp counsellor so they didn't have to worry about including her in birthday celebrations.
Schmitty and Charlie had broken into a fight around 2am, breaking an expensive vase which had woken Barbara. She'd come downstairs in high dudgeon, screaming everyone out of the house.
Mac and Dennis moved to the patio where they'd spent the rest of the night working their way through Dooley's stash of beers.
Charlie must have snuck back in and fallen asleep on the sofa.
"I'll get Charlie out of here before she gets back." Dennis muttered
Mac closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of grass. Somewhere under his hangover, he felt a grateful twinge that Dennis wasn't sending Mac packing too. He could be a real asshole but he knew the situation at Mac's house.
"Happy birthday man."
"Oh shit! Yeah." Mac said blankly opening his eyes. He'd almost forgotten his birthday was the day after Dennis’s.
He heard a crinkle of paper and looked to his left, Dennis was laboriously rolling a joint
"Can you stop stealing my shit dude!" Mac snapped, reaching for it. Dennis held it up and away from his grasping hand
"I don't recall you getting me a birthday present for yesterday" Dennis replied licking the edge of the paper. It hung limply in his hand and Mac sighed before snatching it. Dennis had never got the hang of rolling joints. He pulled out papers and a lighter, repacking the joint in a swift practiced motion before lighting it and inhaling deeply.
"So, where's my birthday present?" Mac demanded, handing the joint back to Dennis
"I'll pay you for this?" Dennis replied shrugging and taking a deep pull
"That's not a gift dude, that's a business transaction." Mac grumbled
“Eighteen” Dennis mused beside him, handing back the joint “I guess we can vote now.”
They looked at each other briefly then burst into laughter
Still sniggering occasionally, they sat, passing the joint back and forth as the sky lightened, perfectly at ease in their little bubble. They had all the time in the world.
They weren’t going to talk about what Mac was going to do with his life now they had graduated and he had no plan. They weren’t going to talk about Mac’s dad being taken away by the police for the second time that year and Mrs. Mac drinking herself into oblivion. They certainly weren’t going to talk about the fact Dennis would be going to college in 2 months. That was lightyears away and they had the whole summer to have raucous nights and sluggish mornings like this.
“Did you know you talk in your sleep?” Dennis asked abruptly, his lips quirking up in amusement
"Yeah." Mac replied, his cheeks reddening
"Enchanting." Dennis murmured, seemingly lost in thought as he gazed at the dense line of trees
"What is?" Mac demanded defensively, scowling at him
"Nothing." Dennis replied airily
Mac debated firing back that he'd noticed Dennis tended to frown and twitch like an asshole in his sleep but decided it wasn't worth mentioning. Besides what kind of bros watched each other sleep? Somehow it didn't seem like he was being made fun of. Dennis always got so weird when he was high.
“Did I say anything interesting?” Mac asked finally, feeling wildly exposed.
“Not really.” Dennis replied “Something about peanut butter and jelly.” He cracked his knuckles and checked his watch before stubbing out the joint in the grass
Mac started to stand, thinking he would raid the Reynolds fridge before crashing in Dee's room for a couple of hours. He had to work tonight.
“Wait.” Dennis said, catching his arm
“What?”
“I can make the sun rise.” Dennis said simply
“Huh?”
“I can make the sun rise” Dennis insisted clearly “Just watch.”
“You're an egomaniac.” Mac muttered, sitting back in his chair. Dennis didn’t respond, he was staring at the horizon with such exaggerated concentration that Mac started to laugh.
"You’re so high dude.” he chuckled
“So are you.” Dennis replied, grinning now.
The sun broke over the tall line of trees, gently flooding the garden with a soft golden light that shone pink through the shell of Dennis’s pointed ears. Mac found himself momentarily captivated as the sun bathed his best friend. His arms and legs were sinewy and pale in his shorts and t-shirt. His dry lips looked soft, parted gently as the sun touched his cheeks, still rosy from their full day by the pool.
It was in that moment, on the morning of his eighteenth birthday, Mac realized how beautiful Dennis was.
It wasn't a good feeling. In fact, it unsettled him to his core that the thought had even cropped into his head.
Because boys weren't supposed to be beautiful
Dennis turned to Mac, beaming
“Told you.”
Mac, his pulse quickened and mind racing, was almost high enough to believe him.
---
Now
The 'incident' of 2008, went down in Paddy's history as the worst fight the gang ever had
After Lyle Korman has reviewed Paddy's as 'The worst bar in Philadelphia' Mac had decided he wanted to double down on the dark and sinister atmosphere he'd been trying to cultivate by painting the bar black.
Dennis had agreed the bar could use a little TLC, even commending Mac for the suggestion, but insisted on a classy Oxford Blue to compliment his eyes and delicate skin tone.
Charlie, who struggled with any sort of change, and knew painting fell under the category of Charlie Work, adamantly refused.
From there, chaos had broken out.
Frank, overwhelmed with the responsibility of being the deciding vote, flushed his shirt down the toilet in a moment of stress. Dee, outraged that she was completely left out of the discussion altogether, began drinking heavily and throwing out insults
The day ended with the five, red faced and screaming. Dee holding Dennis in a headlock as Charlie and Mac wrestled over buckets of black paint while Frank, shirtless, beat at them with a pool cue. All the while, sloshing around, ankle deep in water from the overflowing toilet.
They had a system for avoiding a similar crisis.
One which Mac and Dennis were currently trying very hard to implement.
“Stop it! Get off the bar Charlie.” Dennis shouted, his face red
“You're a traitor! You're a goddamn traitor Mac.” Charlie shrieked as Mac tugged at him, trying to get him down
“I hope you both rot in hell. This is too goddamn far.” Dee spat
“Dee get your bony fingers out of my face before I snap them off.” Dennis hissed at her
“I'm done I'm leaving.” Charlie announced, having been toppled from the bar. He pushed Mac away and made for the front door.
“Charlie get back in here. Right now all of you stop. We have a system for this. We talk this through, we vote and if that doesn't work, we arm wrestle, ok? That's the agreed upon arrangement to avoid unpleasantries like this!”
“Frank would vote with us Dennis!” Charlie said indignantly gesturing between himself and Dee
“Well Franks not here, is he?” Dennis snapped “He’s in the hospital on an antibiotic drip because you idiots spent the night rubbing butter on his infected blisters like he’s a goddamn Thanksgiving turkey.”
He paused and took a calming breath, rolling his shoulders back “Now, I can see this is upsetting and disturbing for you two so I think we need to talk this through like adults. Please.” he gestured to the stools by the bar.
Mac stood beside Dennis, chewing his lip as Dee and Charlie slumped petulantly into their stools, glaring up at the pair
“We can handle a little change guys. Let’s be reasonable here.” Dennis said, spreading his hands wide
“I can't even look at you man.” Charlie said to Mac in disgust
Mac dropped his head in shame.
He felt confused, far more than grateful that Dennis was choosing to die on this hill of all hills. A few days ago, at the aquarium when Mac had suggested swapping teams for Chardee MacDennis, Dennis had been outraged. Had flat out confused.
The only conclusion Mac could draw was that this was to do with yesterday's conversation. A gesture of goodwill or a bizarre form of compensation.
It had been a strained 24 hours since their talk in the apartment. Dennis had been jittery and overly talkative, unwilling to let a silence go on for too long and storming away in huffs when Mac has nothing to contribute to the conversation.
So, Mac had to side with Dennis now. Not doing so would be a colossally dumb move, even with Charlie looking at Mac like he had stabbed a knife through his heart.
It seemed it was just how things were going to be until they sunk back into normality. Dennis was glaring at him now, evidently furious Mac wasn't piping up
His eyes were practically screaming "I'm doing this for you, asshole."
“Ok ok” Mac started with a sigh “You guys are over reacting. The name of the game is CharDee” he pointed to where Dee and Charlie stood together “MacDennis” he pointed to himself and Dennis “Switching up teams for one game won't kill anybody. And you and Dee work alright together?”
Dee and Charlie burst into a simultaneous rebuttal. Dennis huffed and turned away from the others, striding to the table where the CharDee MacDennis box sat, full of cards usually kept under lock and key. Mac noticed something strange through narrowed eyes. Dennis seemed to pull something from his pocket and add it surreptitiously to the pile of cards under the pretense of shuffling them. Mac glanced at the others but Dee and Charlie were too busy screaming at each other to have noticed
“Look enough!” Dennis roared, apparently reaching his breaking point "I have never lost a game. It's not like I ever won because of Dee. I won in spite of Dee and I will continue to win the game of games no matter who is my team mate. You three should be going into this game with the same attitude however misguided it may be. We are doing this one time. Ok? We are switching teams. Are we all in agreement?”
“Fuck no, we're not in agreement!” Charlie shouted
“Not at all” Dee said shaking her head and sitting down on a bar stool “We're arm wrestling.”
“Are you serious?” Dennis asked disbelievingly, his eyes flickering down to Dee’s arm as she flexed it menacingly
“What’s the matter, you scared?” Dee asked sweetly, flexing again
“Fine! Goddammit we won't switch teams” Dennis burst out, a slight look of panic in his eyes “Just forget it I don't even want to play anymore.”
“Ah come on dude-” Mac started but was swiftly silenced with a stern look from Dennis.
“Nah fuck that, we’re playing. Let’s start!” Charlie said clapping his hands together as Dee smirked beside him “I’ll get the wine.”
“Fine.” Dennis muttered, moving back to the pile of cards.
Mac joined the others as Dee pulled out four wine glasses and a large bottle of Pinot Noir. The countdown began. Out of the corner of his eye, Mac saw Dennis shuffling through the cards, searching with a defeated grimace.
“What are you doing? Leave those alone!” Dee snapped
“Yeah man, first you psychologically torment us trying to change the rules now you're gonna mess with the cards too? No way uh-uh. Leave them alone.” Charlie called, pouring out the wine messily
Dennis slammed the cards back on the table with a sinister growl and joined the others at the bar, taking his glass of wine from Mac.
“Alright, we ready?” Charlie asked
The three looked expectantly at Dennis who has a glazed expression on his face. Mac swallowed uncomfortably, glancing at the others then back at Dennis. Whatever Dennis had been planning had failed and it was clearly getting to him.
“Dude?” Mac urged cautiously, bumping his shoulder with his wine glass.
Dennis blinked, frowning up at him then at the others
“Wha- Oh.” he cleared his throat and straightened “Gentlemen. Suck my dick.”
Five hours later
Mac tailed behind Dennis into their apartment. Dennis stormed across the living room and slammed his bedroom door shut behind him. He apparently enjoyed the sound as seconds later, Mac heard the muffled noise of his bathroom door slamming too.
Mac sighed and deliberated before following him, entering the bedroom door and standing outside the bathroom
"This fucking mouse! ” Mac heard Dennis’s muffled shout through the door “Get off my goddamn shower rail you diseased little beast!”
Mac steeled himself before knocking hesitantly on the bathroom door
“Dennis? You alright buddy?”
“I’m rinsing this goddamn hot sauce off my face.” Dennis snapped over the sounds of the tap running
Charlie had acquired the hottest ghost pepper sauce in America through Cricket and incorporated it into the physical challenge, pain and endurance round. Things had gotten a little out of hand.
“Hey so you seem a little upset dude. Do you wanna talk it out?” Mac asked folding his arms and leaning against the door frame.
There was a pause and then Dennis replied
“I know you can’t see me Mac so I’ll just describe my eye roll to you.”
“Dennis-“
“I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking.” Dennis was muttering now
“Dennis?”
“Fucking stupid.”
“Hey at least you and Dee won right?” Mac tried
There was a barely decipherable grunt. Mac sighed and turned, leaning heavily with his back against the closed backroom door
He chewed on his lip before speaking, his eyes scrunched closed
“You’re upset about the card right?”
The game had gone off without the usual levels of mania but as the mind level progressed, Mac had found himself unable to tear his eyes away from Dennis. There was something about him in these moments – something captivating about the way his eyes darkened with focus. Despite things initially not going his way, he had allowed the unassailable glee of competition to take over as he watched eagled eyed for cheating and went through his puzzles pink and breathless.
Then everything changed once they’d make it through to the final round – Public humiliation and emotional battery
“Hold up...what is this?” Dee had asked, holding up a card and wiping his hot sauce covered fingers on her jeans with the other
“Lemme see that.” Dennis made a lunge for the card but Dee held it back
“Make out with your teammate in the back office for 5 minutes to move up 20 points.” Dee read, frowning at the card “What the fuck?”
There was a confused silence where Mac felt his stomach drop to the floor.
Dennis let out a shrill, grating laugh
“What? No... that’s” he spluttered “You know what, I think Frank put that in there because he was tired of Dee and I always winning and he knew we’d never make out.”
“Yeah no shit!” Dee exclaimed in disgust
“That doesn’t look like Frank’s handwriting though.” Charlie said, leaning it to examine the card
“Well you can’t read Charlie” Dennis snapped, his eyes wild. He tugged the card from Dees hand and crumpled it in his fist “Let’s just skip it, just skip it.”
“I’m texting Frank.” Dee muttered, pulling out her phone
“Do not text Frank!” Dennis snapped, slamming his hand down on the bar top “For Christ sakes let’s just move past it. This is insane. Next card.”
The card was swiftly forgotten as an old favorite was selected, berating Dee. She withstood it with an admirable level of detachment.
And so, as always, Dee and Dennis won.
But Dennis seemed distant, sprinkling lighter fluid half-heartedly on Mac and Charlie’s flag and setting it alight with only a fraction of his usual enthusiasm. He was looking everywhere but at Mac. Dee and Charlie were too busy screeching at each other to pick up on the tension.
“Mac” Dennis’s voice from the bathroom, interrupting Mac from his reverie “Go away.”
It was definitely about the card. They were back in dangerous and confusing territory.
But beneath it all was something that felt like a faintest flicker of hope. Like the last dying embers of a once raging bonfire. Mac and Dennis were supposed to be teamed up. They were supposed to get that card.
Dennis just needed an excuse. A cover up. A scheme. A way to detach from himself and play the part of someone who could let himself feel.
Like Hugh Honey.
Like Johnny.
And like Mac had said only one day earlier, any scraps Dennis had to offer, he’d take it. He’d take it all. And seemingly Dennis would keep giving him those scraps. He was just as affected by this 20 plus year bond they shared that clutched and scrabbled for each other whenever one would venture too far
It would be easy, Mac felt, to beg and whine. To cry and plead to just give it another chance. But he wouldn’t. One thing was for certain however. They weren’t going back to Mac being a submissive little puppy.
Fuck that shit
“Stop acting like a little bitch and get out here.” Mac said grimly
There was a long silence. The tap was turned off and Mac pulled himself away from the door. Dennis opened it and stood to face him
Mac huffed a laugh at the moody, expectant expression on Dennis’s face. He couldn’t help it.
His furrowed brow. His clenched fists. The unhappy line of his mouth that he wanted so desperately to kiss away.
Mac found himself stepping forward unconsciously as his eyes caught and glazed over on Dennis’s lips. He knew what that slick, hot mouth felt like now. He’d never forget it.
Dennis’s eyes darted down and he swayed forwards a little. Mac’s hand reached out, just skimming the jut of Dennis’s hip, feeling like he was teetering at the top of the world’s tallest rollercoaster.
All these years later and he was still stupid with want.
Then Mac pulled his hand away and the moment strained and snapped. Dennis moved back. He looked startled with his own reaction. Devastated.
Mac swallowed hard, frantic to move past the moment.
“Look man” he asked desperately “Do you need me to move out?”
“Where the fuck would you go Mac?” Dennis asked bitingly
“Nowhere...I wasn’t really offering.” Mac mumbled
Dennis snorted weakly
“We won’t talk about it” Mac said after a tense pause “What do you wanna do Dennis? A new week’s about to start and you can make your own bucket list! We can start right now!”
“Am I dying?” Dennis asked weakly
“Maybe?” Mac answered cajolingly
Dennis scowled at him but there was no real heat behind it. Then his eyes sparkled sinisterly and he opened his mouth
“-We’re not smoking crack.” Mac said firmly before Dennis could speak. He deflated visibly and Mac grimaced in sympathy “Come on Dennis. What else?”
Dennis stared past him out the dark window of his bedroom and sighed
“Really dude. I just wanna watch a movie with you.” He answered finally
A warmth flooded Mac’s chest. A longing sweetness that they could still do this together. That would never change.
“We can do that.” Mac replied softly
They had only meant to watch Predator , but once that was over it was only 9pm and they were hungry. They ordered pizza and started The Fugitive , got completely absorbed, began a debate about the best action movies of the 90’s which resulted in a viewing of Point Break followed by Heat .
Birds were starting to chirp and Mac woke up on the sofa beside Dennis who was snoring softly. The sky outside was lightening. Mac glanced blearily at the TV screen, fumbling for the remote and hitting pause as the score swelled, though Dennis it seemed, was at no risk for waking up. Mac smiled, noticing Dennis had missed a little stain of hot sauce up by his temple.
It felt strange how the spot by the front door was still a mess of heaped sneakers. How a Polaroid of the gang hung lopsided up on the fridge, held by an Eagles magnet with half the paint chipped off. How a half drunk cup of earl grey tea Dennis had left on the kitchen counter was still there, a pale film formed over the top. And how Dennis beside him was frowning in his sleep.
Everything changed. Everything stayed the same
Mac rubbed at his eyes and focused on the TV. Al Pacino was holding tight onto Robert DeNiro’s hand. He grimaced, irritated they’d slept through the best part of the movie.
Dennis groaned a little in his sleep and unbidden into Mac’s mind came the memory of his body, relentless and responsive, pressed up against him. His kisses leaving Mac’s lips sore and burning. His moans soft, almost surprised.
Mac wanted to hate him. He’d wanted to hate him for years for making him feel this way. So completely and utterly lost. But he was getting old and tired now, they both were.
“What time is it?” Dennis mumbled, his eyes still closed
“Nearly five.” Mac replied shakily
Dennis opened his eyes and sat up stiffly, glancing at the coffee table scattered with beer and half eaten pizza “Christ, my back. I’m going to bed.”
“Let’s go up to the roof first. I feel like a cigarette.” Mac responded impulsively
Dennis blinked at him in surprise “Do we even have any?”
“Yeah I think so.”
Mac shifted through the detritus in his bedside table and pulled out a battered pack of cigarettes and the two made their way up to the roof.
The sky was navy, tinged with a distant orange as 5am approached.
They sat together in old dusty plastic chairs
“I think I’m gonna ask that barista out, the one that works at Jaspers cafe.” Mac mused, grimacing at ancient cigarette and handing it off to Dennis who snorted
“How old is he?” He asked, his voice laced with derision
“Uh...I think he’s 27.” Mac replied sheepishly
“He’s 20 years younger than you.” Dennis scoffed
“Well-”
“No no” Dennis interrupted “That’s the math. He’s 20 years younger than you.”
“Jesus, ok when you put it like that.” Mac muttered
A car passed in the darkened street below. Some poor sap had a early start to his week behind a desk in some shithole office.
“Frank told me I’ve wasted my life.” Dennis said abruptly
Mac turned to him, eyebrows raised
“That doesn’t sound like him.”
“Yeah, he called me from the hospital yesterday morning. You know how annoying and reflective he gets when he’s hospitalized.”
Mac frowned at the way Dennis’s knee bounced restlessly
It was so rare for Dennis to display his uncertainties. The first time had been the night before Dennis went off to college. Charlie and Mac had slept over and after Charlie fell asleep, he had Dennis stayed up, whispering in the dark.
“Frank’s fucking nuts Den.” Mac said soothingly, taking a deep pull from the cigarette
“Dennis, you gotta listen to me. I’m old as shit, I know what I’m talking about-” Dennis started in an accurate impression of Frank’s raspy voice which caused him to cough. Mac laughed, patting him on the back.
“You haven’t wasted shit dude.” Mac started firmly
Dennis smiled briefly, looking out at the skyline
“Maybe not.”
They sat side by side on the roof, in moldering chairs, passing the stale cigarette back and forth as the night faded into a cool murky bluish haze. The morning came with the beginning of the end of summer.
And Mac watched, as Dennis made the sun rise.