Work Text:
The Peach Creek Junior High gymnasium smelled like old sweat, rubber, and the faint chemical tang of floor wax that never quite dried right. It was the annual Spring Fling fundraiser—Nazz’s idea, of course, because Nazz could talk the whole student council into painting the moon pink if she smiled big enough. Banners hung crooked from the rafters: “Kisses for a Cause!” in bubble letters that looked like kindergarteners had cut them out on a sugar high. Booths lined the walls. face painting, ring toss, a cake walk that had already claimed three sheet cakes and one vegan soybean muffin, and half the 7th grade class’s dignity. In the center of it all, under a string of fairy lights that flickered like they were on their last breath, sat the kissing booth.
Kevin Barr manned it like a dead man walking, sentenced to the electric chair but trying to look cool about it. He slouched on a folding chair behind a card table draped in red crepe paper, arms crossed over his ‘Volunteer’ T-shirt, baseball cap pulled low enough to shadow the scowl that hadn’t left his face since Nazz had strong-armed him into this gig. A hand-painted sign taped to the table read:
KISSES – 25¢
Cheek only – no funny business
Proceeds to Spring Fling DJ (thanks, Nazz)
An empty ground coffee bean can sit in front of him, already half-full of quarters and crumpled dollar bills. Kids kept coming up. Giggling sixth-grade girls, mostly, and a couple of douchey freshman boys egged on by their friends, aiming to humiliate themselves and Kevin in the process. Kevin endured it with the grim patience of someone waiting out a dental appointment. A quick peck, a mumbled “thanks,” money in the can. No eye contact. No smiles. Just get it over with.
He hadn’t seen Double D yet and hadn’t even looked for him, really. But every time the gym doors opened, and a new wave of kids spilled in, Kevin’s eyes flicked that way without his permission. And every time it wasn’t the dork, something in his chest loosened and tightened at the same time.
Across the gym, near the punch bowl that smelled suspiciously like someone had spiked it with brine from a tuna can, Marie Kanker leaned against a wall with the lazy confidence of a cat who knows the canary is already half-dead. Her lipstick was fresh, cherry-red and glossy, and her eyes, sharp and predatory, were locked on Eddward like heat-seeking missiles. She’d been trailing him all afternoon, cornering him by the cotton candy machine, then again near the balloon dart game, each time purring his name like it was a secret she’d stolen.
“Double D, sweetie,” she drawled now, sidling up as he tried to pretend fascination with a stack of raffle tickets. “You’ve been avoidin’ me. That’s not very gentlemanly.”
Edd’s shoulders hunched. His beanie was tugged so low it nearly swallowed his eyebrows. “Marie, I’ve explained multiple times that I am merely assisting with the organizational aspects of the fundraiser. I have no intention of participating in… in the more tactile elements.”
Marie laughed, low and throaty. “Tactile. Aren’t you cute when you talk fancy?” She stepped closer, close enough that Edd could smell her bubblegum lip gloss and the faint cigarette smoke that clung to her jacket even though she swore she’d quit after almost setting the trailer park ablaze. “C’mon. One little kiss. For charity, to make a cute girl happy? A smooch ain’t gonna break ya.”
Edd took a small, careful step backward. His glasses had fogged slightly from the humid press of bodies. “I—I really must decline. It’s against my personal code of conduct, and furthermore—”
His voice trailed off because his gaze had drifted, unbidden and traitorous, across the gym.
Kevin was looking right at him.
Not at the line of girls giggling in front of the booth. Not at Nazz, waving from the ring-toss table. At him. Edd. The stare was brief, accidental maybe, but it landed like a thrown baseball. It was hard, unexpected, and stinging. Kevin’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile, more like the ghost of one. Then he looked away, scratching the back of his neck, ears going pink under the brim of his cap.
Edd’s face ignited.
It started at his collar and climbed like wildfire. His cheeks, ears, and the tips of his nose were bright, unmistakable crimson. His hands flew up to cover his face, fingers splayed like he could hide the blush behind them. A small, strangled sound escaped his throat.
Marie saw it all.
She froze mid-pursuit, eyes narrowing, then widening. The predatory gleam flickered out, replaced by something softer, sharper, and recognizable. She followed Edd’s line of sight straight to Kevin and saw the way the redhead’s shoulders had tensed and the way he kept sneaking glances back like he couldn’t help it. Marie’s mouth opened. Closed. Then, slowly, a grin spread across her face. not cruel, not mocking. Almost… delighted.
“Ohhh,” she breathed, drawing the word out like she’d just cracked the code to the universe. “Oh, Double D. You sneaky little sock.”
Edd peeked through his fingers, mortified. “I—I don’t know what you mean—”
“Save it.” Marie grabbed his wrist, gently, for her at least, and tugged his hand down. Her voice dropped, conspiratorial. “You’re blushin’ like a stoplight ’cause of that orange boy over there. Ain’t that somethin’?”
Edd’s mouth worked soundlessly. There was no clever retort. No deflection. Just wide eyes and that persistent, furious blush.
Marie laughed again, softer this time. She glanced over at Kevin who was now pretending to count the money in the can with exaggerated focus, then back at Edd. Something in her expression shifted. Not defeat. Not jealousy. More like… letting go.
She leaned in, close enough that her breath tickled his ear. “Go on, brainiac. Go get your kiss.”
Edd blinked. “Pardon?”
“You heard me.” Marie straightened, folding her arms. “I ain’t gonna stand here and watch you pine like some lovesick kitten. Go over there. Tell him you wanna donate to the Spring Fling fund. Or don’t say nothin’. Just… go. Before I change my mind and drag you over myself.”
Edd stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “Marie, this is highly irregular—”
“Yeah, yeah. Irregular. Scandalous. Underhanded. Whatever.” She gave him a small, light, encouraging shove. “You’re wastin’ time. He’s been starin’ holes in the back of your head all day. Go give the poor guy some heart throbbin’ before someone else does.”
Edd swallowed. His heart was a frantic bird battering against his ribs. But Marie’s eyes, usually so sharp, so hungry, were steady now, almost kind. She jerked her chin toward the kissing booth.
“Git’.”
Edd took one step. Then another. The gym noise faded to a dull roar in his ears. His palms were slick. His heart ached with every step, but he barely noticed. Kevin looked up as Edd approached, green eyes widening behind the shadow of his cap. The line in front of the booth had thinned; no one wanted to interrupt whatever was happening.
Edd stopped at the table. His voice came out small, trembling. “Hello, Kevin.”
Kevin cleared his throat. Loud. “Hey, dork.” His fingers drummed on the table. “You, uh… here to donate?”
Edd’s blush, which had receded slightly, roared back full force. “I… yes. For the cause. Nazz was… ‘gassing up’ the booth.” He fumbled in his pocket, pulled out a dirty, dented quarter, and set it carefully on the table like it was made of glass.
Kevin stared at the silver. Then at Edd. Then at the bill again.
“Cheek only,” he muttered, almost to himself.
Edd nodded jerkily.
Kevin stood from his stool. Slowly. Like he was afraid sudden movement might shatter something. He rounded the table. The fairy lights caught in his hair, turning the red strands coppery. Edd’s breathing shallowed. The gym seemed to shrink around them, the chatter and music receding until there was only the soft rustle of Kevin’s sneakers on the floor, the thud of his own heartbeat.
Kevin stopped close, closer than necessary. He hesitated, then leaned in. Edd closed his eyes on instinct, bracing.
The kiss was feather-light. A brush of lips against Edd’s cheek—warm, careful, lingering just a heartbeat longer than charity required. Kevin’s breath ghosted over Edd’s skin, smelling faintly of spearmint breath spray and the cherry soda he’d been nursing all afternoon.
When Kevin pulled back, his face was scarlet. He didn’t meet Edd’s eyes right away. Just reached out, awkward, and ruffled the top of Edd’s beanie like he’d done a hundred times before—except this time his fingers stayed, brushing the soft fabric, the shell of Edd’s ear.
“That one’s… on the house,” Kevin mumbled. “Don’t tell Nazz.”
Edd opened his eyes. His glasses were fogged again. He smiled. small, dazed, radiant.
Behind them, Marie watched from the punch bowl. She raised her plastic cup in a silent toast, then turned away, melting back into the crowd. A grin tugged at her lips—bittersweet, but not broken.
The fairy lights flickered on. The music swelled. And in the middle of the noisy, crowded gym, two boys stood a little too close, hearts hammering in perfect, terrified sync, while the rest of Peach Creek spun on around them, oblivious to the quiet earthquake that had just begun.