requested by ray_xaviera

/ / /

Ian woke up to the obnoxious sound of fists banging against his bedroom door. As he lifted his head off of his pillow, he rubbed his eyes with his closed fists.

"Ian, hey Ian! Open the door!"

With a groan, Ian swung his legs over the side of the bed and tore his blankets off of him. He grabbed his dad's hoodie from the back of his desk chair and fixed it over his frizzy curls.

"Oh Iandore of Lightfoot!" Barley sang at the door. "Open. Up!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he said. With his hoodie hanging around his shoulders and one arm struggling to find a sleeve, he opened the door and immediately regretted it as he saw his older brother and his best friend and crush standing in front of his door, both wearing party hats.

You threw a handful of glitter and confetti into the air. It rained down on top of yours and Barley's heads. "Surprise, Ian! Happy eighteenth birthday!"

Ian yelped in shock and hurriedly put his hoodie all the way on as he cowered behind the door. "What are you guys doing?!"

"Surprising you," you said, "duh."

"We got cupcakes!" Barley held up a tray of purple iced cupcakes topped with sprinkles.

"And presents," you sang, lifting up two colorful wrapped gifts. "Come on, it's an impromptu birthday party. I planned it all."

Ian smiled and his heart skipped a beat. "Y--You planned it all?"

Barley nodded. "Yeah, she did. She called me up at like four in the morning last night with all of these plans. She's insane.""

You shrugged. "I wanted to celebrate my favorite guy."

Ian's eyes widened. "Your favorite guy?" he mumbled.

"Now get dressed and comb that hair and then come downstairs. Your friends from school are coming over later tonight for a real party. I have already ordered the pizzas and I bought a ton of party favors, because we will be playing party games like we are five. That's the best way to enter adulthood, right?" You grinned and reached over to playfully smack his shoulder. "Happy birthday, Ian."

"Thank you," he said. "Uh... I'll --- I'll get ready right now."

"Good." You looked at Barley. "Come on, I know you're dying to eat your cupcake already."

Ian slowly shut the door as you and his brother turned towards the stairs. He turned and pressed his back against the wood, his eyes on the floor. His heart was still beating so fast that he felt like it might just break through his chest.

You had called him your favorite guy.

Ian had assumed that you would be doing something special for his eighteenth birthday. After all, Barley's twenty-first started out with you decorating Guinevere the Second with fairy lights and filling it with a dozen pepperoni pizzas from Pizza Realm and then making peanut butter milkshakes in the kitchen before watching a marathon of Barley's favorite movies, which all involved a single clue that Barley had to decipher in order to solve the riddle on the quest that you had prepared for him the very next day.

You had given Barley something beyond special, and Ian had always assumed that he might get a little slice of that. After all, you were really into his brother, and not him.

Barley didn't know. You didn't know. But Ian had the biggest crush on you. You were everything: funny, creative, smart, generous, and you were the greatest friend either of the boys had ever had. Ian was obsessed with the way your hair curled around the sides of your face, forcing you to brush it back behind your ears. He was obsessed with the way you laughed at everything. He was amazed by how you constantly tried to make him laugh, too, whether it was a joke or just a look that you were giving him.

He would give anything to ask you out, but the truth was that you were way too into his older brother. You were twenty years old, as confident and loud as Barley, and one hundred percent out of Ian Lightfoot's league.

"Hey Ian!" he heard you shout from below. "Barley is about four seconds away from eating your cupcake. You comin' or what?"

"Yeah!" he shouted. He rushed to his closet and scanned all of his plaid shirts. He nibbled on his lip nervously. You liked him in plaid, you had said one day last fall. You said it really suited him. So he had to wear plaid today, too. "Green or red?"

He tried to think back to what you were wearing today, but he knew that was pointless. You wore just about the same amount of color as Barley, which meant that your outfit was either black or grey.

He chose green in a moment of frustration and hurriedly put on the shirt. He grabbed his comb and gently moved it through his hair, fluffing up his curls a little bit. He left the bedroom and sprinted to the bathroom so he could lather up on deodorant and brush his teeth. He stared at himself in the mirror and inhaled deeply.

"Okay, Ian. Think you can get her to really notice you today?" he mumbled. He shook his head. "No. No I can't." He closed his eyes. "No, no you can. You're eighteen now. That means you're officially one hundred percent grown up. You gotta do this. You gotta." He looked into his brown eyes. "Just do it. Make her really notice you."

Make her really notice you.

Ian rushed down the steps and hurried into the kitchen. He grinned excitedly. His mom, Colt Bronco, Barley, Blazey, and you were all gathered around the table. The presents were all piled up at the center and the cupcakes were now surrounded by a giant chocolate cake that sat on a platter.

"Happy birthday!" everyone cried.

"Thanks guys," he said. "This is --- this is really great."

Laurel smiled lovingly at her youngest son. "I know that later you're going to have a party with all of your friends, but your stepdad and I just wanted to have one mini party with you before."

"Get ready for a day of partying, Ian," you said.

"Woohoo!" Barley through a fist into the air and slung his arm over your shoulders. You caught him with one arm going around his waist and the other hand pressing against his chest so he wouldn't fall on top of you.

"Barley," you laughed. Ian's smile almost vanished.

"Which do you wanna do first, boy? Cake for breakfast or presents?"

"Uh... cake sounds fine," he said, nodding.

"Great! Let's light those candles!"

"Great choice, although you're going to love what I got you." You ran around the table with a party hat and put it on his head.

"Hey!" he protested with a laugh. His hands move to push the hat off.

"Come on, Ian," you said, putting the strap under his chin. "You look so cute."

"I look cute?" he asked.

As these words left his mouth, Laurel stepped away from the cake everyone began to sing Happy Birthday. You grabbed Ian's hand and dragged him over to the table. Although you had let go of him the moment he got close to the cake, he was still feeling his heart beat right out of his chest again. The skin of his palm tingled. He wanted to hold your hand again.

Maybe that was what he would wish for when he got to blow out these candles.

/ /

Three hours into the real party with all of his friends, Ian was overwhelmed by the amount of people hugging him, handing him gifts, or offering high fives. He had never felt so popular. Sure, some of the people were Barley's friends, and some of them he barely knew, but he felt genuinely loved by everyone in the room. He wasn't an outsider. He was surrounded by his friends from science class, from chess club, and most importantly, you and Barley.

The party took place in the yard, where you had basically set up the most childlike eighteenth birthday party in the world. Face painting, balloons, pin the tail on the dragon, and cupcakes with the plastic rings on top were everywhere.

Ian managed to catch up with you as you placed all of the goody bags on the table. He was out of breath from dancing with his science class friends. It was twilight now, and he had to of been dancing for hours.

You looked at him and smiled. "There's the birthday boy. You seem to be having fun."

"I'm having... the greatest time," he gasped out, putting his hands on his knees. "Seriously, I am. I have never danced before in front of other people. Never ever."

You smiled. "I'm not surprised to hear that, considering you're the exact opposite of your brother." You raised your eyebrows and pointed to Barley, who was standing on top of Guinevere the Second and dancing hard to the music.

Ian laughed and shook his head. "That's embarrassing to look at."

"Who cares?" you asked. "All that matters is he is having fun."

Ian nodded. "Yeah."

You held up a paper bag. "Goody bag, birthday boy?"

"Thanks," he said, taking it.

"There are glow sticks inside. You are welcome."

Ian laughed again. "How did you... how did you come up with this whole idea?"

"Doesn't every eighteen year old kid not want to grow up?" you joked. He shook his head. "No, I know. Everyone wants to be eighteen. But I never did want to, no. I wanted to stay a kid, but I wasn't given that option. But meeting you and Barley... you guys make me realize that I don't have to grow up. You guys are great friends to me, and... and I just want to make you feel really special on your birthdays."

Ian smiled. You grabbed a goody bag and looked inside it. You pulled out your glow stick and started to bend and crack it. Pink neon appeared in the thin tube.

Ian could feel the words bubbling up into his chest as he stared at you, your face slightly illuminated by the neon pink glow stick and the flashing string lights you had hung up on the house.

"You know, you..." He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip nervously. He couldn't look at you anymore, so he looked at the grass. "You make me feel this special... on all the days. On every day. Every day, I mean."

When he looked up at you again, you were smiling at him, your eyebrows raised. "You mean that?"

He nodded. "Uh-huh. 'Course I do. I, uh..."

Come on, do it. Come on. Just tell her how you feel.

"You okay, Ian?" you asked.

"Y-Yeah. I just, uh..."

Ian! Just do it. You're making this way more awkward than it needs to be!

"Hey! ___!" Barley shouted. Both you and Ian turned to look at Barley. "Watch this!"

Ian's heart sank as his brother did this goofy looking dance move that brought a giggle out of you. You held your stomach as you laughed. He swallowed hard and he looked away from him.

You wiped an escaped tear from your eye. "What were you saying?"

Ian shook his head. He dropped his goody bag back on the table. "You know, it doesn't really matter. Just forget I said anything."

"Huh?"

"I'm going to go dance," he said, turning back towards the "dance floor" where everyone was still gathered.

"Ian, wait!" Your hand went around his wrist. "If you have something to tell me, I want to hear what it is."

Ian's eyes trailed up from the hand that gripped him all the way up your arm and to your face. He exhaled through his lips and squeezed his eyes shut. His face fell.

"What does it matter?" he asked. "I was going to tell you that I like you, but what does it matter? I mean, it's my brother you're obviously into."

You blinked. "Where did you get an idea like that? Ian, I don't like your brother like that. And he doesn't like me like that."

Ian stuttered, "B-But you guys get along---"

"Yeah. Because we are best friends." You shook your head and scoffed. "The same as you and I are. Of course we get along."

Ian sighed. "I'm sorry, ___. I sounded like a huge jerk---"

"No," you said, tilting your head. "Hey, no. It's okay. Ian, it is."

"No---"

You stepped forward and covered his mouth with your hand. "Hey," you said, a gentle smile curling your red painted lips upward. "I said it's okay and I meant it." You pulled your hand back and looked directly into his big brown eyes. "Did you mean it when you said that you liked me?"

All of a sudden, Ian was aware of how close you were. He was aware of how you were wringing your hands together in the space between your chest and his. And he was aware of how beautiful you looked with your hair frizzy from dancing.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah, I meant it."

You swallowed hard. "How much do you like me?"

"E-Enough that when I blew out my candles this morning, I, uh, wished that the gift you had gotten me that I was supposed to love so much was just that you were going to kiss me tonight." He shut his eyes. "Okay, that was the most cringey thing I have ever said---"

"No, no, it was sweet. You're wrong, though." You smiled nervously. "I actually got you one of those journals, you know, that has the leather cover and are handmade that you saw at that historical Yore festival, you remember?"

"No way. That's awesome!"

"But I can kiss you too," you said, nodding quickly. Your eyes sparkled in the lights. "Because I have had a crush on you for a long, long time it feels like, Ian. And I just wanted to wait until you made the first move."

His eyes widened. "You were---"

He was silenced as your arms went around his neck and he was pulled down. His lips knocked against yours awkwardly for a moment, but one of your hands moved to cup the side of his face and you kissed him slowly, your eyes squeezed shut. His hands didn't know where to go, but they settled for your waist comfortably as you moved your lips against his again and again, and then pulled away.

Neither of you could look at one another for a moment, but when you did, Ian knew that he just wanted to kiss you again.

"Happy birthday, Ian," you said softly. A smile made your lip twitch. "My favorite guy."