Work Text:
Tango sits back, placing his whole body weight onto his hands.
The sky is blue, the grass beneath him is dry, and the sun is shining. Tango supposes it's going to be a good day, if he can keep the underlying dread out of his mind.
Of course, when he's at the evil they call a high school, that's almost an hopeless endeavor.
Though, there's always one bonkers exchange student that can cheer him up anytime.. Speaking of which, where is-
"Hello hello hello!"
His bag fallificates off his shoulder with a "Thump!" as he startles into a crisscross position.
"A little bit of poop just came out, you jerk!." Tango huffs once he recovers, rolling his eyes at Zed's snickers.
"Have you ever thought that you're just a scaredy-cat?" Zed settles down on the patch of grass in front of Tango, unloading his bag, textbook, and notebook in the space in between the duo.
"How embarrassing that would be.." Tango makes eye contact with Zed, struggling to hold in his giggles before giving in.
Laughter fills the air for what Tango wishes could be eternity until it slowly calms into a silence. (Expect for the occasional bird chirp or cicada.)
Tango studies Zed, watching the man lock in on his notebook. The speed at which he writes rivals Tango's own quickness and a fond smile can't help but make its way onto his face. Zed's handwriting is flowly and unique; Just adds another thing Tango loves about Zed!
…
No, he shakes his head. It's wrong to like his best friend like that, especially when Zed is straight. No matter how much he wants to bring his lips to Zed's soft freckles, he'll never get to.
Void, he needs a smoke. He always does when thinking about the blond.
A quick look left to right ensures privacy. Although he should already have known that, he and the other Z.I.T.S. chose behind the school for a reason. He reaches into his black backpack, feeling around until his hand clasps around the familiar feeling of a Marlboro gold.
Flipping the pack open inside the bag, he elegantly plucks a cig out and slips it out of his bag. With a couple clicks of the lighter he keeps in his pockets, the cigarette is lit and to his mouth.
The tension in his shoulders gives way and Tango slumps back, stretching his legs out. It's a waste, really, to be spending all this money on a pack of Marlboro golds out of everything. But they're smooth, and they bring this strange calm Tango craves.
They stop Tango from thinking about how he's useless. How he'll never get far in life, especially since he doesn't do any extracurriculars.
Zed does extracurriculars. Tango has them memorized. Soccer, BPA, HOSA, and Orchestra.
Sometimes it just seems like Zed's the perfect person and Tango's just his weird friend. Sometimes it seems like everyone else thinks this too.
He doesn't hid his staring, letting his gaze trace Zed's figure. Void, he's pathetic. But Zed is just so pretty. He wants to reach over and grasp the man's golden curls, feel the softness between his fingers.
He takes a deep puff, taking in the cig between his fingers to stop himself from being a fool in front of Zed.
"Tango." The brit is staring at him with disappointment when Tango looks up.
"Zed." Tango hums, swishing smoke around his mouth before exhaling the gas into the air.
"You know those things cause you to get cancer! They're bad-ness all over!"
"This is true, buttttt! I don't even inhale-ifacate! and I only have them like.. once a week!"
The sad look on Zed's face is almost too much. His cute smile with his cute cleft lip, now chased away into a deep frown.
"You already smell like smoke—not in a bad way—and your teeth will be rubbish!" Zed protests, homework disregarded in favor of telling Tango off.
Tango stares into Zed's big violet eyes, searching for.. something? Even he doesn't know what he's searching for.
The pros and cons weigh in his head. Zed's right, for one, his teeth will turn yellowed and rottened.
Mom had proven that herself, Tango muses.
The pros fight off any chance of him quitting though. The pros of forgetting about everything.
"If we're being honest, Marlboro golds barely count! Also, the smell is just my cologne!" Tango defends, bringing a hand up to smooth his raggedy mullet.
"Oh my word. I wager you're addicted! But, I'm slightly curious… Cigarette me!"
Tango raises an eyebrow, suspicion gracing his every move. "Oh, this I gotta see." Tango rummages through his bag to find a cigarette for Zed.
What the hell. In one swift move, the cancer-ificater is taken from his lips and brought to Zed's own.
Is his face red? It feels red. Sure, they've ate each other's food, shared chapstick, and more, but this feels strangely intimate. Like a kiss so close to being tangible he has to brace for impact.
Zed's eyes close tightly, almost steeling himself for the breath he's about to take. Tango catches himself leaning forward in anticipation, but he doesn't allow himself to back away.
Zed's chest moves and suddenly he's spluttering, coughing smoke indelicately.
Tango straightens up. Yeah, he had that reaction too, the first time.
"How can you like this stuff?!" Zed waves his hands around, the cigarette pinched tightly around his thumb and pointer. (Is it weird to say Tango is attractive to his hands?)
"It's called having skill! It takes a bit to enjoy some happy fun smoke." Tango smirks and Zed sticks his tongue out at him.
"I have skill! I have too much skill, in fact!" Well, Tango can't argue with that.
"Sureeee."
Continuing with the childish manner, Zed blows a raspberry at him and smothers the cig in the grass.
"What did you do that for?!"
"Just to make sure you don't have it!" Zed winks, picking up his pencil to start writing again. Though he pauses for a second, comically looking around with wide eyes.
"Wait, where is Imp and Skizz?!"
Tango stares at Zed blankly, processing the question before cackling at the randomness.
"Did you just now notice?!"
"We- Well! You- You know! I had homework! And-… stuff!"
Tango wipes the tears from his eyes, staring at Zed's pout with a grin.
"They have a band thing! Obviously. Well, not that obvious to you-"
"Shut up!-"
The giggling starts up again, Tango's sure that if this keeps up he just might earn himself a six pack! Eventually, he's too out of breath to laugh.
So, he just grins. Grins at the sky, grins at the grass, grins at Zed. Bright, beautiful Zed. Zed grins back, of course, before focusing back on his work.