Work Text:
August 29th, 1997
The call came at 2:13 A.M. Rolfe was half asleep on the couch, a rerun of some forgotten sitcom muttering in the background. His phone rang, snapping him out of a half-formed dream. He figured it was a wrong number. Nobody called him anymore, not at that hour, not unless something was wrong.
“Hello?” Rolfe said, his voice sounding tired and hoarse.
“Hey,” The other voice answered. When he heard it, the world seemed to stop for a second.
Dook.
The voice was unmistakable. Older, maybe. He sounded worn out, like he hadn’t gotten much sleep. It had been three years, maybe four since they last spoke. After the Rock-afire broke up, they all went their separate ways, but Dook and Rolfe...unraveled.
“It’s Dook. Sorry I’m calling so late, I…This is really random and out there, but do you wanna go up to that old hill we used to hang out at? I wanna get my mind off of stuff and I don’t have a ride. I figured it would be cool to go with you there, anyway.”
Rolfe paused. He hadn’t thought about that hill in years. He saw it instantly. How it curved above the town, how it was an 8 minute walk to get to the top. The way the street lights reflected on the lake just below it. A chill went down his spine.
Dook anxiously pulled through the 4-and-a-half seconds of silence from the other end of the phone before Rolfe said, “Yeah, sure. You’re on 12th Ave, right? I’ll come pick you up.”
“Thanks man, I’ll see you soon,” Dook said before hanging up the phone. Rolfe sat for a moment, staring at his landline in disbelief. He rubbed his eyes and stood up, cracking his back. He put on a green flannel hoodie that had been laying on the back of the couch, grabbed his car keys, and left his apartment. The night air hit his face as he walked from the apartment lobby to his car, a beat-up gray sedan. He started the engine and let out a deep sigh. He was only a town over from Dook.
Driving through town felt like going through a ghost of his own past. Every corner held a memory; the gas station they used to hang out behind, the liquor store Dook had stolen a bottle from, an old parking lot where Beach Bear blacked out drunk once.
He pulled onto 12th Ave and spotted Dook standing outside his apartment. He hadn’t changed much. He still had the same slouch, the same navy windbreaker he had since he was a teen. Rolfe pulled up beside him and rolled down his window.
“Hey, hop in,” He said. Dook promptly got in. The car was silent as they pulled away, just the sound of the engine filling the air. They drove by the old all-night diner where they had their first date. Rolfe couldn’t bear to look at it, knowing it had closed years ago.
“Gosh, I haven’t been up there since the late 80’s,” Rolfe said, finally breaking the silence.
“Me neither.”
“What made you wanna go up there?” Rolfe asked, cocking his head.
Dook shrugged. “I was just thinkin’ about old times…How we used to run off there whenever things got bad.”
Rolfe raised an eyebrow. “Are things bad for you?” He asked, the sincerity in his voice catching Dook off guard. Rolfe was once Dook’s best friend. And lest we forget, boyfriend. Rolfe was the most sincere and caring with him. But years of being in a band together, seeing each other every single day for 14 years, it wore down their relationship. They both just turned stone cold towards the end.
Dook didn’t answer right away. He stared out the passenger window, watching moonlight bounce off the trees. When he finally spoke, his voice was low.
“Yeah. Kinda. Just…everything feels off lately. Like, I woke up and the whole world moved five steps ahead without me.”
Rolfe nodded, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. He understood that feeling more than he’d ever admit. “It’s weird, isn’t it? How fast everything changes...”
They finally reached the hill. Dook got out first. He stretched his arms above his head and took a long breath. Rolfe followed, slamming the car door a little harder than he meant to. And so they started their 8 minute hike up the hill. It hadn’t changed much, if at all. Dandelions still grew in no particular pattern. The lake stood still. And the stars were still shining bright.
They sat at the edge of the hill, shoulder to shoulder, looking down at the town.
“You ever, uh, think about the band getting back together?” Dook asked suddenly, taking off his jacket and letting it fall behind him.
“Every now and then. But it’d never be the same.”
“No…Probably not.” Dook fidgeted, twisting the hem of his shirt around his finger. “I saw Mitzi at the grocery store last week. She has 2 kids now. Teachin’ vocal lessons, I think.”
Rolfe smiled faintly. “Good for her.” They sat in silence again. A few cicadas buzzed somewhere nearby.
“Y’know,” Dook started, his voice quiet, almost hesitant, “I never stopped wonderin’ what would've happened if we stuck it out. Not the band - I mean, us.”
Rolfe didn’t respond immediately. He looked down and picked up a stick, fiddling with it between his fingers.
“I think we would've broken in different ways,” he said, softly. “The band breaking up wasn’t the only thing that pushed us apart. We just…forgot how to love each other.” He didn’t look at Dook.
“Yeah,” Dook said. “I think you’re right.”
Dook turned his gaze back toward the lights of the sleeping town below. The air between them felt heavier now. Rolfe felt it too. He could hear it in the slight catch in Dook’s voice, see it in the way Dook’s fingers were nervously twisting the edge of his shirt.
Rolfe looked at Dook. “I used to dream about this. Not the hill. Just…us. Sitting here. Like we used to,” He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Dook’s head tilted, just slightly, and there was a glint of something in his eyes now - longing, maybe. Or regret. Or both. “Yeah, me too,” he said.
The wind picked up gently, blowing the grass around them. Rolfe leaned in just a little, not even sure what he was doing until it was already happening. Dook didn’t pull away. Their foreheads brushed first. Then their noses. Then finally, slowly, Dook tilted his head and closed the distance. The kiss was quiet. No fireworks, no hands all over each other. Just the hush of the breeze. A thousand different feelings rushed through both of them. Old memories, new chances…
When they pulled back, they stayed close, foreheads still touching.
“I missed you,” Dook said, voice cracking.
Rolfe closed his eyes. “I missed you too.”
For the first time in years, the night didn’t feel so foreboding.