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The thing is, they just start kissing.
It begins innocently enough, when after a long day of adventures and dungeon hunting, Roier sends him off with a hug. Caught off-guard, Cellbit finds himself wrapped in Roier’s arms, his hands instinctively resting on the boy’s waist. Roier’s cheek brushes his when he pulls away and there is a split second where Cellbit realizes how soft his skin is and feels the irrational urge to lean in again, just to confirm. But before he can even analyze the intruding thought, he feels warm lips on his cheek. A quick, fleeting kiss that leaves him mildly confused as Roier merrily strides away without a single word of acknowledgement.
Cellbit definitely does not think about it for the rest of the night. After all, Roier is known for his friendly personality and affectionate demeanor with those he considers close. Cellbit convinces himself that it's merely a sign of their newfound friendship, a consequence of all the time they’ve spent together lately.
It’s not a big deal. Really.
The next time it happens it’s entirely by accident, and Cellbit will definitely blame it on the alcohol if anyone were to ask. Not that anyone would, of course, it’s just a friends thing anyway.
It’s after one of Maxo’s parties at Casualonas, when they’ve drunk more tequilas than Cellbit could keep track of, that the second incident takes place. Jaiden had been taking care of a very drunk Roier and keeping him from literally stripping naked on the club’s stage when Cellbit took pity on her and offered to take him home.
He drags a pouty Roier out of Casualonas, Jaiden sending a grateful smile his way as they both stumble into the chilly night. He laughs at Roier’s drunken antics and slurred, nonsensical jokes, feeling a little tipsy himself but managing to steer them clear of stumbling into any ditches on the way to Roier’s castle.
It’s when a giggly Roier, face flushed from the alcohol, turns to him at the castle’s entrance to say his goodbyes that Cellbit finds himself unable to resist. In his defense, he meant to aim for the cheek but in his inebriated state he managed to land a clumsy kiss on the corner of his mouth. Close enough.
When Cellbit draws back, a whirlwind of thoughts swirls in his mind, muffled by the alcohol-induced buzz. An uneasy mix of amusement and concern tugs at him, amplified by the glimpse of Roier’s wide, wobbling eyes he manages to catch as he heads back into the night.
Neither of them bring it up again. And in fact, by the next time they say goodbye with a kiss, it’s not surprising anymore.
Cellbit tells himself they weren’t really thinking. But right before they part ways after playing the last round of Pac and Mike’s new game of hide and seek, euphoria and adrenaline still lingering in the air, Roier leaps into a hug and their faces are suddenly very close. A fleeting brush of their lips, and just like that, they are people who kiss now.
There’s no going back after that.
They kiss hello and goodbye, chaste and quick, as natural as the leaves falling in autumn. They don’t really mention it or talk about it, since there’s nothing to discuss. They’re friends who happen to kiss when they greet, just like many families do. It doesn’t have to mean anything deeper than that.
And Cellbit really doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to think about how soft Roier’s lips are or how he blushes adorably at the nose every time they linger a little too close, a little too long. He doesn’t want to think about it because it’s just a friendly greeting, and friends shouldn’t be noticing those things. So he pretends he doesn’t.
The next time they kiss, Roier goes in for a second one, sparking a flicker of curiosity within Cellbit. Does Roier kiss all his friends twice? The idea sits bitterly in the back of his mind and weighs on his heart but he ignores it. Who Roier kisses or not is none of his business, he decides, and that thought is certainly not the catalyst for Cellbit to start kissing him a little bit more from then on.
Roier is visiting Cellbit at his castle, a daily occurrence by now. This is newer for them, too. Not that they don’t spend a lot of time together already, but Roier’s presence has become a nice –and loud– change in Cellbit’s monotonous routine. He helps Cellbit with enigmas, he brings him coffee when he’s too caught up in his late night puzzle-induced frenzies and is a beacon of laughter when Cellbit finds himself overwhelmed.
They listen to music. A lot. Cellbit has discovered they have a similar taste, and they can spend hours sprawled out on the comfy carpet of his room, immersed in heated discussions about their favorite artists and blasting each other’s favorite songs through the speakers.
He takes care of Richarlyson whenever Cellbit pulls all-nighters and is too tired to be anything but dead to the world for a few hours. He can't help but notice the bond forming between Roier and his son after one sunny afternoon when he stumbles upon them in Richas' cherished painting room, covered in vibrant splatters of paint, both consumed by infectious laughter.
Cellbit is not in love with Roier.
He can’t be. They’re just friends who kiss. At least that’s what he tells himself as he comes out to greet Roier at his castle’s entrance. He says hello, as he usually does, and Roier kisses his hello right against his lips. Cellbit pulls him into the castle and their gazes lock for a moment, a rare shyness gracing Roier’s smile as he looks up at him with bright eyes. Roier licks his lips and Cellbit wonders what it’s like to kiss them while they’re still wet. Are they even softer than usual?
It’s like gravity, he thinks as he leans down again. It pulls him in and he is rendered helpless, unable to fight it.
Roier kisses him back, arms snaking their way around Cellbit’s neck as he pulls him down, down, down into the allure of his welcoming mouth. Cellbit parts his lips with a sigh, tilting his head to one side, Roier’s mouth fitting into his like the perfect puzzle piece.
Cellbit tastes him then, tongue wet curling up to meet his own, a sweet tinge filling his senses. When they finally part, they are panting and slightly breathless as they stand in the castle’s entrance. Cellbit’s eyes travel down Roier’s flushed face, lingering on his kiss-swollen lips while Roier, seemingly lost in a daze, sweeps a thumb over them.
But before he can say something about what just happened, anything, Roier breaks the spell with a chuckle and lifts a heavy looking plastic bag he didn’t even notice he was carrying.
“Tacos?” he says, and that’s the end of it.
He trails behind Roier up the stairs as he rambles about how hard is to get authentic Mexican ingredients in this “pinche isla culera” and while a part of him wishes they'd addressed what just happened, mostly, he feels a wave of relief.
Because to be completely honest with himself, Cellbit isn’t even sure what to say about it.
There’s something nice about where they’re at, incredibly comfortable and sweet. And Cellbit does not want to lose it, even if he can’t quite put into words what exactly is roaming his mind. Roier is his best friend and, as of lately, the person he enjoys spending his days with the most. He is terrified of what that conversation could unveil, what Roier’s reaction could be. He can at least admit that.
So he avoids it.
Or he tries, until one fateful night where the moment comes in the shape of his two personal living nightmares: Maximus and Pac.
They’re at the favela, lounging on the football field and enjoying a cold beer after a long day of building and decorating the new zone in the Brazilian area. It had been proposed to prepare something for the upcoming Festa Junina, and they had all agreed it would be great to add a brand new recreational place, filled with games and typical Brazilian food.
Maxo's snide remark pierces through Cellbit's contemplations, dragging him from thoughts of a certain Mexican who'd enjoy the new activities and Brazilian treats.
“... and Cellbo could even marry his new boyfriend,” he was saying, Pac nodding along, chuckling as if that statement made any type of sense.
“Max, what the hell are you yapping on about now?” Cellbit groans, pinching the bridge of his nose, already sensing the beginnings of a headache.
“Oh, you know, I was suggesting we set up a chapel for people to get married during Festa Junina. I’m sure you and Roier will make the most of it,” he nudges Cellbit roughly, the most irritating smirk he’s ever seen plastered on his friend’s face.
“What’s Roier got to do with anything?” Cellbit retorts with a tired huff, crediting the sudden heat in his cheeks to the couple of beers he’s chugged earlier.
“Who else would you marry during Festa Junina but your boyfriend?” Pac interjects, rolling his eyes like Cellbit is the one being dense and not the ones suggesting he is in a romantic relationship with his best friend.
Cellbit’s eye twitches.
“Roier is not my boyfriend,” he grumbles through clenched teeth, the words tasting somewhat bitter in his mouth.
Maximus and Pac exchange a glance then in a way that makes Cellbit think he’s missing something important. He frowns when they both turn to stare at him with matching deadpan expressions like they’ve fucking rehearsed it, and Cellbit is now definitely sure they are not on the same page.
“Tío,” Maxo begins, “we’ve literally seen you two kiss. Multiple times.” Pac provides kissy noises for emphasis.
“Just as a greeting!” Cellbit protests, sitting up straighter and feeling increasingly cornered. “Hellos, and goodbyes. Just on the cheek, at first. And then sometimes on the lips. Lightly! And– It doesn’t mean anything, okay?”
Okay, Cellbit might have –conveniently– glossed over some details and babbled his way through his defense but he thinks he’s offered a completely rational and sensible explanation.
“That is a terrible explanation,” Maximus cuts in with an incredulous look, staring at him as if he's lost his mind.
“You can’t just kiss Roier and say it doesn’t mean anything!” Pac exclaims, flinging his arms in frustration and turning to Maxo for support.
“How long have you been kissing?” Maximus inquires with a serious tone, offering Pac a reassuring pat on his shoulder.
Cellbit thinks insanity might not be completely off the table.
“Meu deus,” he groans, dragging his hands over his face. “I’m not– I don’t know! We just started doing it, okay? It happened out of the blue and I was confused about it. And then I figured Roier was the kind of person who kisses his friends and so I shrugged it off. It’s just friendly kissing, that’s it.”
“Well… If it’s lightly, it could pass as friendly I guess,” Pac muses with a lighter tone, scratching his chin contemplatively. Maxo is sputtering something about Cellbit being a clueless idiot and what does he mean by “friendly kissing”, but Cellbit’s mind helpfully tunes him out for his own sanity.
There’s a pause and Cellbit chews on his lips, his eyes set on an interesting spot on the grass.
“It’s more than lightly, isn’t it?” Pac deadpans.
Cellbit’s face blossoms in red, ripe with embarrassment.
“It’s mostly light,” he says reluctantly. “But then sometimes… There can be some... weight behind it.”
Suddenly, another beer sounds incredibly appealing.
“Weight?!” Maximus gawks at Cellbit.
“Oh wow,” Pac chimes in.
“Are you using tongue?” Maxo interrogates with sharp eyes.
When Cellbit can’t muster up a word either way, Pac lets out a strangled noise. “Oh wow,” he repeats.
“You’ve been making out with Roier, and you think it might be friendly?” Maximus raises his voice, enunciating every word as if dealing with a toddler.
Cellbit simply nods and a collective groan echoes through the quiet night.
Maximus stares straight ahead, eyes lost, while Pac hums for a solid minute.
“Maybe let’s put this into words our Cellbo can understand,” he finally suggests, talking to Maxo like Cellbit isn’t literally right in front of him.
He frowns. Now he really feels like a child being scolded by his parents.
“Hey, I’m not an idiot,” he protests indignantly.
“Then stop acting like one!” Maximus fires back and Pac has to physically restrain him from pouncing at Cellbit like a rabid dog.
“Maybe you should go talk to Roier, Cellbo,” Pac huffs while grappling with an unhinged Maxo. “I think it might help you figure things out.”
Cellbit decides to take Pac’s advice when the string of Spanish curses start to involve more explicit threats against his ass.
By the time he turns up to Roier’s place, he’s convinced he knows how to handle this.
It’s simple, really. He’ll just walk up to Roier, casually bring up the topic of their friendly kissing, and Roier will undoubtedly confirm it’s just their way of greeting –standard stuff between best friends. It’s completely fine.
It’s not fucking fine, he thinks as Roier greets him at his doorway with a smug grin and wraps his arms around Cellbit’s neck, kicking the door shut.
Roier is all-consuming, a force Cellbit can’t begin to resist. And as they melt into one another in the middle of Roier’s living-room, he forgets about everything he’d intended to ask.
What could be better than this, after all? What could be better than Roier’s soft, plush lips moving against his own? What’s better than the wet, fervent suction as he invites Cellbit’s tongue into his mouth?
Roier presses him back against the door and drags a warm hand down the front of his body. Cellbit steadies Roier’s head with a firm grip, keeping him close as he devours him, and he parts his legs to make room for Roier’s body to fit snugly against his.
Roier’s fingertips are toying with the edge of his waistband when Cellbit finally lets out a single gasp of hesitation.
Roier retreats slightly, gazing at him with hair mussed and lips swollen.
“I’m…” Cellbit croaks, mouth dry, palms clammy. His mind chants Roier’s name on loop, his heart racing. Everything he planned on saying feels hollow now, insincere. Not with the way his skin bristles with the overwhelming urge to kiss Roier again. Not with the fear that even a hint of their relationship being merely platonic from Roier might shatter him.
Fuck.
“I’ve heard you wanted to talk to me?” Roier asks, his head tilting, a playful grin adorning his face.
Cellbit takes a moment to internally wish the most painful, gruesome death upon his idiotic friends before taking a shaky breath and clearing his throat.
“I just… I think it might be time to talk about what we’ve been doing.”
“We’ve been kissing,” Roier states matter-of-factly.
"Uh, yeah," Cellbit stammers, feeling his breath hitch as Roier's fingers trail up the back of his neck, toying with his hair. A gentle tug on a strand tickles Cellbit's ear.
“I probably don’t have to tell you this,” Cellbit rushes on, trying to suppress the butterflies rioting in his throat. “But most friends don’t usually do that.”
“That’s interesting,” Roier hums, eyes lingering over Cellbit’s face.
“Is it?” Cellbit replies, feeling a little frustrated.
Roier presses gentle fingertips to his cheek, tracing the faint outline of an old scar. “I probably don’t have to tell you this,” he echoes. “But I don’t mind being more than friends with you.”
To put it simply, Cellbit short-circuits. Alarm bells ring in his mind, red and blaring, his body feeling like it might shut down at any moment.
More than friends.
It couldn’t possibly be that easy. “You’ve misunderstood, he will never love you back,” Cellbit’s traitorous inner voice taunts, the one that often spoils his rare moments of happiness. So far, it’s been pretty successful.
“But… I thought– I thought it was just friendly kissing” Cellbit mumbles, feeling helpless and somewhat ridiculous. He’s starting to realize why Max wanted to rip his face off.
Roier blinks at him, eyes warm and glossy, before bursting into laughter. Head back, tears in his eyes and all. Cellbit stands there feeling like the entire circus and definitely does not pout.
“Pinche pendejo,” Roier says, huge smile still on his face as he cups Cellbit’s cheeks, drawing him closer. Cellbit can practically count each individual eyelash from how close they are. “Do you really think I go around making out with all my friends?”
Cellbit hesitates, face flushing. It does sound absolutely ridiculous when said out loud.
Roier shakes his head, giggling as if he found the situation adorable and not an earth shattering event like Cellbit most certainly does.
“Cellbo, pendejo,” he says slowly and noticeably softer. “I want you. Te quiero.”
“You want me?” Cellbit’s voice does not crack.
“Yes, pendejo,” Roier snorts, “I thought it was pretty obvious by the way I practically shoved my tongue down your throat,” he jokes, thumb rubbing soothing circles against Cellbit’s cheek.
“I just– I guess I never imagined you would actually–”
Cellbit is interrupted by Roier’s mouth against his own, successfully shutting him up. Cellbit’s response is embarrassingly predictable as he melts into the kiss, hands instinctively resting on Roier’s hips, pulling him close once again.
“Deja de decir mamadas, gatinho” Roier mumbles against his lips and Cellbit complies with a breathy laugh.
“Now what?”, he asks, their noses brushing.
Roier leans back, sticks his tongue out, and adopts his trademark pose—scratching his chin, a habit Cellbit has come to recognize as "Roier's thinking stand." Then he suddenly brightens and claps triumphant.
“Tacos?”
Cellbit chuckles, joy pouring out of his every pore.
“Of course, guapito”.
And as they head towards the kitchen Cellbit knows they still have a lot to talk about, a lot of his own demons he needs to fight. Yet, in this moment, one thing is crystal clear: He’s irrevocably and hopelessly in love with Roier and, just maybe, his happy ending isn’t far off after all.
“‘Of course’, huh? Is it because I’m Mexican, pendejo? Tacos, sombreros and tequila, right culero?”
“Guapito, se você não parar, eu vou me matar na sua frente.”