Chapter Text
“Okay, something’s up.” Ruth interrupts Steph’s rambling, honestly just tired at the fact that she’s refusing to acknowledge the clearly developing crush.
“What? No, nothing’s up!” Steph lies, horribly.
“You’ve been talking for the past 5 minutes about what Graham was wearing, and how he styled his hair. I know that you have a problem, but please don’t tell me that I was wrong in hoping it wasn’t that bad.”
“Listen, just-! I had a point, I swear! He put a bi pin on his backpack, and he was wearing another one on his sweater vest. Which means Pete and I might actually have a chance!” Steph rambles, looking starry eyed and in love towards the ceiling.
“Psh, yeah, you say that like you ever didn’t have a chance.” Ruth corrects.
“The fuck you mean by that?” Steph perks up.
“Well, first off, both you and Pete talk about him so much, already in fucking love, and yet you completely miss the way he looks at you?”
“The way he looks at us? He doesn’t look at us any different than how he looks at you and Rich.” Steph corrects. Even if her correction is the exact opposite.
“Oh believe me, it is different.” should she go there? She’s already gone pretty far.
“No way.”
She does.
“And you two seriously thought that Graham treating you to dinner wasn’t a date? That’s the most fucking date trope I’ve ever heard of, and I read way more fanfiction than both you and Pete.”
“It wasn’t a date, though.”
“We’re talking about the same guy, right? The same Graham, who made us all braided friendship bracelets, because he had more thread spare than money. The same Graham that you bought an insane Christmas gift for, because he couldn’t afford to replace his binders when they got too worn? The same Graham fucking Everett who probably worked his ass off to get enough money to treat you both to dinner?”
Maybe she’s going a lot too far, but Ruth would rather punch her in the face with the information, at this point.
“But… He…” Ruth can practically hear the information click into place.
“I need to go talk to Pete.”
And with that, Steph dashes out of the room.
“She left her fucking keys behind, god damnit.” Ruth mutters to herself.
But she’d take the forgotten keys over another semester of unacted crushing.
-I need to watch this production of Waitress for my theater history class, would you two wanna join me?-
“Ruth, wanna come to Graham’s to watch some Waitress?” Steph asks out loud, quickly typing a text to see if that’s okay.
Because surely it would be fine, but it doesn’t hurt to double check.
“Nah, I’m good. You and Pete have fun. Richie and I are binging some anime tonight.” Ruth answers.
“This sounds like you planned this.” Steph worries out loud, her eyes tightening on her roommate.
“No, total coincidence, I prommy.” Ruth swears, her tone still off.
“Uh huh.”
-ye ofc! wht tine?-
-Whenever you two want to! I’d like to start it by 7:45 tho-
-Be there asap!-
A knock on the door, and Steph feels like she knows who it is.
“Graham’s?” Pete asks, the moment he sees Steph’s face.
“Fuck yeah!”
He didn’t even need to say the word.
“This is probably fine, right-?”
“God, just go and fucking make out with him already!” Ruth complains, still lounging on her bed.
“Shut up!” Steph retorts, no anger in her words. “But-”
“You always look pretty, but yeah, you’re fine. It’s just hanging out in his dorm.” Steph opens her mouth to argue. “No, come on, let’s go!”
Steph whips around, and grabs her keys.
“Have fun with Graham!” Ruth teases, waving her off.
“Have fun binging anime!” Steph answers, significantly less teasing.
The door shuts behind her.
“And Operation OT3 is rolling.” Ruth mutters to herself, a villainously knowing grin on her face.
Graham hadn’t been nervous about this plan until the exact moment a knock echoed on his door.
Yeah, sure, both Ruth and Richie said he had a really good chance. He saw how Steph’s eyes lit up again at the sight of his bi pins! But, the anxiety just kicked into overdrive, made worse by his lack of binder.
Curse that 8 hour limit.
Why would either of them be attracted to him? He’s no one special.
“Hey guys!” he opens the door regardless.
And much like himself, they’re both in sweatpants, Steph matching him in a hoodie, and Pete in a very informal sweater.
“Come on in!” Graham steps aside.
“You know, for the number of musicals that Ruth has forced me to watch, I’m really shocked that Waitress wasn’t one of them.” Pete notes, as Graham closes the door behind them.
“Honestly, I’m shocked about that too.” Steph notes.
Graham quickly hops onto his bed, sitting in the middle, and pats the mattress on both sides of him.
“Then, we should get it started, huh?” and the invitation works, as he gets Steph on his right, and Pete on his left.
Step one, physical contact.
He starts simple. Slowly closing the space between his thighs and Pete’s.
And unlike his plan, Steph follows him. Not even needing him to ask or encourage.
“Oh god, that is… Not supposed to be happening.” Pete notes aloud to ‘It Only Takes A Taste’. And Graham has to agree.
“Like, I know we’re supposed to be rooting for them, but like, come on, that’s your patient!” Graham leans against him.
The sharp intake of breath, followed by the lack of additional movement or words to push him off makes Graham hopeful.
“But the thing is, who’s the worst of the two? You have abusive power dynamics and creepy power dynamics. Neither one is a good option.” Steph notes, watching Earl and Jenna interact.
Her hand out on her thigh, almost uncomfortably so.
Graham has no choice but to place his hand on hers. And act as if it isn’t making his heart race.
Oh god, he’s absolutely going to have to watch this musical again before they discuss it on Tuesday, but this is fine.
This is more than worth it.
He can see how Steph’s eyes flick to him, and he has to fight to keep his eyes on the screen and his face neutral.
Steph quickly flips her hand around, and intertwines their fingers.
Another success.
And intermission.
“Oh shit, did you two want anything? Water, snacks?” Graham pauses the player. He’d meant to offer before starting the show, but he completely forgot.
“Water would be great!” Pete replies.
“Water is fine for me too.” Steph agrees.
“Are you sure? I, uh. I got some Dr Pepper?” specifically for her, but… She doesn’t need to know that.
“For real? Why didn’t you say that?! Of course I’ll have a Dr Pepper!” Steph corrects.
Graham smiles, grabbing a water and two cans, obviously wanting one for himself.
“I also have some snacks! I have some sea salt and vinegar chips, and off brand hot cheetos.”
What, he knows them. At least well enough to tempt them with their favorite snacks, even if they’re both from the nearest dollar tree.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Pete mutters, something shining in his eyes. Graham is hoping that it’s good.
“Yeah, but I did, because I wanted to. Do you guys want them?” and with two nods, he tosses the bags their ways, squatting down to check on the projector and his laptop before grabbing his own bag of pretzels, and joining them back on his bed.
Now, with even less space between them… Somehow.
Graham’s not even sure how that happened.
All three of them comment, here and there as act 2 starts, but Graham can’t even remember them, too distracted as his plan turns against him.
As Pete and Steph both lean against him, resting their heads on his shoulders.
Good signs, really fucking good signs, but his heart beating might be taking away from paying attention.
He just needs to make a move. To stop sitting here, like a lame-footed animal.
Something, anything!
Graham turns his head slightly, and presses a quick daring kiss to the side of Pete’s head.
Which immediately sends his heart into slight dread as Pete picks his head up, and turns to face him.
“Hi!” Pete whispers, the widest smile on his face. And a pink hue too. Or maybe Graham’s head is just playing a trick on him.
“Hi.” Graham answers back, fighting for breath.
Oh he fucked up. He fucked up so bad.
Especially as the weight of Steph’s head leaves from his shoulder.
“Can I…?” Pete looks between Graham’s eyes and his lips.
Please don’t make him regret this.
Graham doesn’t reply. Instead, lifting his hand, and cupping Pete’s jaw to pull their lips together.
And making the world feel oh so fucking right.
He doesn’t want their lips to part, even if his breath is shaky when they are forced to do so.
“Goddamnit Spankoffski.” Steph’s voice mutters, turning Graham’s head.
“Hey, technically, he kissed me!” Pete defends himself.
“Meh meh meh meh meh.” Steph replies teasingly, in a high pitched tone. “Excuses, excuses, nerd.”
Her hands go from a mocking puppet to cupping his jaw, the same way he had Pete’s. And he pushes their faces closer together, still allowing her to lead their lips into a kiss.
This is where Graham wants… No. Where he needs to be.
With his lips barely parted from theirs, foreheads pressed together.
“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that, for like. Ever.” he mutters, as Steph and him slowly pull apart from each other.
“Why the fuck didn’t you just do it, then, Everett?” the use of his last name sends satisfied shivers down his spine.
“I was nervous.” Graham defends himself. “Worried. I kinda thought that you still saw… High school me.”
“No, Graham.” Pete interrupts that line of thinking, turning Graham’s head again. “We see you.” cupping his cheek. “And sue us, we want what we see.”
Graham’s not sure how he got in Pete’s lap, but he certainly wasn’t complaining.
“I’m assuming, then, that we should redo that date, huh?”
“It’s on me, this time.” Steph insists, leaving no room for argument as she presses their lips together before Graham can even make a sound.
“And an official date.” Pete mutters.
The musical goes forgotten.
Ruth looks down at her phone, seeing a notification from Pete, shockingly through snapchat.
“Operation OT3 is officially complete!” she tells Richie, showing off the image.
“Based on the fact that I’m pretty sure Steph took that picture, it’s right to assume I have the dorm to myself tonight, right?”
“Is that all you fucking care about?”
Richie pauses.
“Well, no… But we’ll get the full story tomorrow.”
“That is a cute picture of them. I’m gonna save it in the chat so Pete has it for later.”
“Making fun of them at the wedding?”
“Same difference.”
Ruth pauses again.
“I just hope that they’re all aware of how obvious those hickies are.”