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basically

remember the awardify dating montage i said i would write? this is not that it’s actually a docify dating montage

WARNING for some very mild gore in the middle

read on google docs

“Do you think Doc likes me?”

The question snatched Neil back from the blissful space between reality and sleep. He opened his eyes and blinked lazily at Mod snuggled up close to him in bed. His soft, freckled face was delightfully close to Neil’s as he gazed across at him through sparkling eyes. Neil’s hand was tangled in Mod’s thick red hair, gently stroking a curl between two fingers. “WeLhl - ” Neil coughed and quickly readjusted his pitch modulation dial underneath Mod’s hand. “Well sure they do. You guys get along, right?” The words came out slightly deep, but he knew Mod would mess it up again too soon to bother fixing it. Sure enough, Mod absently began turning it up to hamster levels again. “Yeah… but I mean…” “They told me you guys uh, vandalized the haunted house ride at the boardwalk again last week,” Neil recalled, as Mod gradually twisted the dial downwards. “Hehe, yeah,” Mod smiled sweetly, then nibbled at his lip with his extra sharp canine. “I mean like… like.” Neil stared at him blankly. “You know?” He stared a few seconds longer. Then he slowly turned his head side to side. Mod snickered quietly. “I mean like… do you think they, could like me… the way you like me?” Neil suddenly noticed the slight pinkness on Mod’s cheeks as it spread across his nose. “Oh, Oh,” he said, with a filtered echo following a half second later. “Uh Uh… you like them?ke them?” Mod grinned in mild embarrassment. He pecked Neil on the nose quickly to refrain from bouncing with nervous energy. Neil smiled, and assumed this meant he got it right. “So, what do you think? Could they maybe…?” Neil looked uncertain. “Do they ever talk about me to you? Did they ever say anything?” Neil stroked Mod’s hair soothingly again. “Doc doesn’t, um… really fall for people. They told me once, it just doesn’t occur to them.” Mod’s face fell. “Ah,” he said in disappointment. Then he knitted his eyebrows in confusion. “Wait… didn’t they fall for you?” Neil looked on for a moment without responding. “You guys are together, right?” Neil continued staring. Slowly, he brought his pointer finger up to his chin. Were they together? He thought they were. They kissed often – but, they had kissed him plenty for some of the time they were just friends. Or – had they actually been dating then? No, it couldn’t be. But, they had never said if they were really together or not – Neil tried to remember the last time they called him their boyfriend – had they? But wait, Neil had called them his datemate a few times, he thought, and they hadn’t objected or anything – A gentle, machine droning sound became audible from Neil’s head in the extended silence. “Neil?” Mod asked with a slight giggle. “Uh.” He was overthinking things, probably. “Yeah, we are.” “So? How did that happen?” Mod pressed on. “How did you… woo them? What were your tactics?” “Tactics?” Neil laughed. “Uh… I died. Pretty much.” “That isn’t helpful, Neil,” Mod smiled. “You’ve known them for so many years… what do they like? Flowers? Chocolate?” “Uh, I –” “Entrails?” “Well, I don’t…” Neil tried to think very hard. What was it they liked about him? Besides the fact that he was, well, their creation, in some sense? Finally, in a weak voice he tried, “…I think they like it when… people… uh…” Neil was drawing the stubbornest blank. As he looked back into Mod’s expectant, excited eyes, he suddenly figured an improvised answer was better than nothing. “They’re a doctor… you know… they like someone they can, fix up, take care of… I think,” he mumbled. Once it was out of his mouth, he almost raised his eyebrows at how believable it was. Mod nodded, a calculating look on his face. He made a few “hmm” noises under his breath. After a moment, he looked back into Neil’s eyes. “You’re okay with all this, right love?” “Oh, of course,” Neil blinked. He considered for a moment. Just a little while ago, he would have not been comfortable at all with this development; he’d have been terrified and near certain the two would realize how much better they are together than with him, and leave him behind entirely. But now he had been in several coexisting relationships for a while, and had become familiar with how stable they really were. “It’s pretty cute, actually,” he gave a small smile. “You guys finish each other’s sentences. You’re good together.” Mod smiled very wide and blushed a little more. “I’m glad you agree,” he gushed. “You can help me eat their heart!” “Ye– uh, wait, what?” “Win. I meant win. Their heart.” “Oh, uh, yes.”

--

The midday sun beat down savagely on the hard concrete. Neil pressed himself desperately against the wall, sweaty hands grasping tightly at his rifle and trembling as his throat grew tight with fear. Even in the relative safety of the cover, he felt incredibly exposed. At any second, the enemy could leap out from some unseen corner and attack –

Gunfire in the distance. Neil’s heart raced. He heard an unearthly yowling and Doc shouting something unintelligible from far across the field. But the echo made it impossible to tell what direction it came from. He was separated from his only ally – how had he let that happen? He was defenseless.

“Hey! Neil!” came a loud whisper from just behind his back.

Neil squawked and leapt up a foot in the air, desperately fumbling with his gun to try to point it at his ambusher before he was fired at himself.

“Whoa whoa hey don’t shoot!” Mod raised his hands in the air. “I’m unarmed!”

Neil saw Mod’s rifle on the ground at his feet, along with his protective vest. The vest was dotted with a mere two small splotches of orange paint, compared with Neil’s vest which he felt was utterly drenched with blue, a lot of which Mod himself had put there.

“What the hell Mod!” Neil breathed out his surprise. He kept his rifle trained in his direction, just in case it was a trick.

“There’s no time to explain,” Mod was still using an outdoors whisper. “I need you to shoot me.”

Neil’s eyes widened in concern. “Wh…”

“Just shoot me!” Mod held his arms out in invitation. “A whole shit ton of times, preferably in the chest. Quickly now!”

“But…”

“I sent Bill to make a distraction, but they’re looking for you, come on!”

“Wh-why? And why aren’t you wearing your vest? What is going on!” Neil demanded.

“JUST DO IT! Do it, come on! Shoot me! SHOOT ME!” he whisper-screamed frantically.

Neil had no idea what was happening. He was so tense with nerves he felt like his back was broken, and his grip on his gun was so tight that the grooves bit into his palms painfully. Suddenly, Mod lunged forward at him, and Neil was so on edge he automatically squeezed the trigger in response.

Instantly, neon orange splotches of paint bloomed wide across Mod’s unarmored chest and he was knocked back with an ‘oof!’ He doubled over and hissed in pain, but after a second raised his head and grinned again. “Okay, that was good, a little more.”

“Mod! No! I-I didn’t mean to!”

“Come on, come on, come ON! SHOOT, you arse!” he repeated, opening his arms widely again.

Suddenly sprinting footfalls could be heard approaching the spot where they stood from the other side of the concrete shield. Urgently, Mod lunged forward again and put his hands on Neil’s gun. Neil struggled with a ‘gah!’ but Mod quickly succeeded in pushing the trigger under Neil’s finger and shooting himself in the shoulder, merely an inch from the muzzle. He screamed and stumbled backwards, falling to the ground dramatically once he had reached the edge of the cover.

Doc skidded to a stop on the other side, looking down at Mod sprawled on the ground at their feet, moaning pathetically and dripping with orange. He squinted up at them, their head covering the sun just so and creating a halo of heavenly, healing light around them as they locked eyes.

Barely a beat later, they leveled their rifle at him and squeezed off three more orange pellets into his undefended chest.

“OW! FUCK!” Mod screamed in shock.

“Nice job Neil!” Doc panted as they skipped over Mod’s writhing body and around the corner into Neil’s foxhole.

“Bh… gh… it wasn’t…”

At that moment Doc noticed Mod’s abandoned armor and gun on the ground. They spun around to look at Mod again, as if to confirm that he was indeed not wearing his vest. “Oh, jesus, what the hell!” They spun again to glare back at Neil. “Did you take his armor off?”

“No!” Neil squeaked indignantly. “He – it – ”

But Doc was already leaning over Mod, trying to gently sit him up. “For Christ’s sake – you shot at him when he didn’t have his armor on? What kind of monster are you?”

Neil was speechless with an uncomfortable mixture of shock, outrage, shame, and offense.

Mod, on the other hand, donned his most powerful puppy eyes, small tears of pain trickling off his lashes. “Ooh… Doc, it hurts… I think you should, carry me back to the lab, and… take care of me. Alone. With my shirt off.” He leaned his head on their shoulder and gazed up at them pleadingly.

Doc paused. They didn’t really understand what he was going on about, but they loved when Mod gazed up at them with those adoring eyes, projecting awe and respect and hero worship towards them like high beams. They had to savor the moment.

Finally, they addressed him, “The fuck you want me to do for a bruise…? What, you want some concealer or something?”

Mod raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“Sorry buddy, you just have to walk it off. You’ll be sore for about a week. What the hell were you doing with your armor off, you goddamn idiot?” they berated him softly.

Mod visibly deflated. He closed his eyes and made a small sound of disappointment.

“Ye–” Neil was about to agree before a blue paint pellet splashed onto his shoulder and knocked him off balance, just barely catching himself against the wall. “OW!”

“FUCK OFF, BILL!” Mod yelled from within Doc’s supporting embrace on the ground.

“Ye- yeah! Stop it! Time out!” Neil yelled weakly, brandishing his fist hesitantly in the vague direction he thought the shot had come from.

Doc carefully helped Mod to his feet. He grimaced more and wobbled wildly, coming to lean on Doc for support again. Neil almost wondered if he really had been hurt more than he bargained for – until he saw how he was stifling the small smile that kept trying to form on his face at the contact.

From the way Doc huffed, Neil suspected they may have noticed Mod was overacting too. They extended their arm across his shoulders obligingly. “I think it may be game over, in fact,” they called.

Neil sighed in relief. He had not been having a good time at all that morning. He was exhausted, dehydrated, sore as all get out, sweaty, and emotionally distressed. Come play paintball with us, they said. It will be a fun time, they said. But now his boyfriend was injured and his datemate had accused him of a war crime.

As the four were driving home from the park in the car later, Doc chattered about the health problems empirically associated with cannibalism in the front seat while Mod and Neil huddled in the back.

“Well that didn’t work,” Mod murmured. “We have to think of something better…”

“We?” Neil muttered back with hushed outrage. “You didn’t let me in on your plan at all! I had no idea what was even happening until you… you said that weird thing –”

“Shhh,” Mod hushed him, bringing a finger up to Neil’s lips, although he was speaking even quieter than Mod was. “You’re helping me with this, right?”

Neil donned an angry pout. “I don’t want to help you if you’re not going to let me in on your plan.”

Mod sighed. “Fine,” he muttered, as though it were some terrible inconvenience. “Tell me what else they like.”

“Uhhh,” Neil hadn’t prepared for this, and he was caught off guard. Last time he thought he had come up with a realistic answer, but in the end it had failed miserably and at great cost, so he would have to think harder.

As he furrowed his brow and brought his finger up to his chin, his gaze drifted towards Doc in the driver seat in front of him. Last time, he had tried to think about what Doc likes about him. But he didn’t even know when they had started dating, so there was a bit of a block with that. This time, he ought to think of what they liked about Mod. It made more sense anyway… of course being in love would be different for each person you do it with. He couldn’t expect them to like Mod for the exact same reasons they liked him. Each love is special, unique… Neil smiled to himself, becoming dreamy at this philosophical self-revelation.

Mod reached his arm over to snap his fingers in Neil’s face. “Hey, focus,” he reminded him.

Neil shook his head. “Uh, right,” he responded. “Mod… what is it that you think Doc likes the most about you?”

“Well, my stunning good looks of course!” Mod grinned, displaying his crooked, yellowed teeth, an odd number of which were filed.

Neil smiled softly back, then blinked as he tried to think of what Mod and Doc had in common. “Well… you both like blood and guts, right?”

“Hmm okay okay alright I see,” Mod nodded in understanding, although Neil didn’t think he had completed his idea. “You think they like my work.” Mod’s expression was contemplative, although his eyes were wide and cheeks warmed. Evidently, the thought that they admired his work as much as he admired theirs was quite a flattering one. After a moment, he smiled. “I know what we can do.”

--

“Doc, Doc, you gotta see this, come on,” Mod said through barely contained laughter, bouncing with energy and prodding them through the doors of his shop.

He led Doc and Neil into the sketchy operating room and into a makeshift observation room he had set up using a few transparent partitions – they might have been shower curtains actually, Neil couldn’t tell. Mod normally never had observers to his surgeries. As he scurried around in excitement, humming a few notes and whispering nonsense to himself, Neil frowned as he noticed a young man was already laid out unconscious on the operating table, evidently having been left there since before Mod went out to lunch with the two of them. At least Doc didn’t seem too bothered, as they were smiling along with Mod’s enthusiasm.

“So this guy, right,” Mod continued, giggling still, now wearing his work coat, gloves, and a surgeon’s mask around his neck. “This strapping fellow right over here, he comes in, he, what does he want?” Mod held up a pair of broken off corners to a Rubik’s cube, one scrambled and one solved. “Some fuckin, Rubik’s cube bullshit on his arms, okay okay, it’s like, some kinda hipster–indie–artsy–milosophical phetaphorical whatever, with some great symbolic meaning to his life or other, you know–”

Doc was giggling too now, and even Neil couldn’t help a reluctant smile at Mod’s derisive statements.

“So I say, ah yes very good, buuuut don’t you think you’re a little out of date? Rubik’s cubes were popular maybe twenty years ago, you know, you wouldn’t want to be behind the times! So you know what–you know what I get him to go for, instead?” In his other hand, Mod held up a plastic toy, spring green in color, rounded and tri-symmetrical, and when he flicked his fingers, the three wings spun around rapidly while circular red light patterns appeared across the rotating surface.

A fidget spinner.

Mod grinned wide as Doc cackled. “Mod, he’ll be behind the times again in just a year!” they cried.

“Exactly,” Mod hissed in sadistic delight.

“Diabolical,” Doc hissed back.

Mod giggled again as he skipped down to the other side of the operating table. He waved cheerfully at them once he was situated at his station, as they were facing each other just a little ways apart, with the patient between them. Doc smiled back through the plastic sheeting, watching intently.

Neil sat in a small plastic chair against the wall just a few feet behind Doc. He had never observed Mod perform a surgery before, although he had seen the results; it just wasn’t an interest of his the way it was for Mod and Doc. He was fairly used to injury visuals by now, or at least he was less fazed by them than he used to be, but Mod’s work never failed to make him a little bit queasy. However, he had agreed to help him with this plan, as Mod needed him to report on Doc’s reactions as he focused on flaunting his skill and grace with the scalpel.

Almost immediately, Mod nicked an artery in the man’s arm, letting a small gush of blood spill out onto his sleeves with a “whoops.” Neil winced, but Doc just snorted. They turned over their shoulder to look back at Neil as they cracked, “Now I finally get to see how he gets that much blood on himself.”

The surgery continued. There wasn't too much more splattering, but Mod’s coat still became mildly bloodier as he kept wiping his gloves off on it. Finally, he had managed to successfully wrap three flaps of loose flesh around the fidget spinner in the divots between the wings of it so that they joined in the center, and stitched it up at that point neat as a bow. Unhappy as he was about the poor fellow’s fate, even Neil had to admit the way Mod had crafted the flesh to mold so snugly around such a complex shape was impressive. There was a definite artistry to his practice.

Just as he was snipping the last thread and putting his work on display for his observers, smugly grinning with pride, Doc bit their lip and murmured, “Mod…”

“Yeah? Pretty good, right?”

“It can’t spin like that.”

Mod’s face froze, and he quickly glanced back down at his work. Slowly, as if to confirm the obvious, he lifted his hand and gently placed his thumb and pointer finger over the toy and tried flicking it. The lights could turn on, but no motion transpired, and the pride vanished from his eyes. Awkward grin still in place, he looked back up at Doc with an “Ah,” as they silently snickered at him.

Mod stared at nothing for a moment, whispering to himself and chewing on his lip. Then, he exclaimed “I know what to do!” and sprung into action, striding quickly to a far corner of the room towards what appeared to be a tool chest, the type that would ordinarily hold hardware or gardening tools. He fiddled about with the various drawers, evidently looking for something amongst the pliers and glitter glue and hacksaws that he could not find. Finally, in the bottom most drawer, after digging for some seconds, he stopped upon some object Neil couldn’t quite see. He didn’t look satisfied, but muttered something along the lines of “It will have to do.”

As Mod bounced back over to the operating table, he produced a large, old, discolored retainer. “Mod, is – is that your retainer?” Neil asked, perplexed.

“Yup!”

“You… had braces at one point?”

“HAHA! Yeah, braces! Good one, Neil!”

Mod began slicing away at his previous handiwork, removing the toy and awkwardly smushing the flaps of skin he had created back down into place. Through some means Neil couldn’t understand, eventually Mod managed to affix the retainer to the man’s arm such that it protruded sturdily outwards in a hook shape. At one point, Doc took a sharp intake of breath, but Neil missed what Mod had just done, so he wasn’t sure if it was in impressed excitement or a fearful cringe.

Finally, after flicking the hooked end a few times from a few different directions to assure himself of its rigidity, Mod attached the fidget spinner to the inside of the hook using some super glue which he retrieved from the tool chest. When he placed his hand on the bloodstained toy, it could successfully spin, since the curved shape of the retainer did not obstruct the wings. It flicked some of the caked blood all over it in all directions, but it did spin. Neil had to suppress an “ohhhh” moment when he finally understood all this.

“Ohhhh,” Doc said.

“There we go!” Mod said cheerily as he finished up.

“That was some quick thinking, Mod!” Doc called with a smile, their eyes shining with… something. Respect? Patronization? Neil could never tell.

Nevertheless, Mod beamed. “Thanks! You know, I just do this every day. It’s a skill.”

Doc chuckled. “Absolutely. And the final product? Looks like absolute shit!”

Mod barked out a laugh of joy. “I try!”

Mod walked the two of them back out into the front room, and Doc excused themself as they had some more work to do back at the lab.

“So?? What did they think? What did you see?” Mod pressed Neil fervently once they were out the door, grabbing Neil’s hand and bouncing on his toes.

“I… uh…” Put on the spot, Neil’s brain naturally blanked. “Well, you heard what they said to you, right.” He examined his shoes as he bought time to think.

“Er, well, yes, ok,” Mod smiled awkwardly and flushed, remembering how his first attempt had ended in humiliation. “So, I kind of severed my foot there, yes. But they later said they liked my quick thinking!”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Neil responded, then hesitated. “Well, you know how they, their voice… uh, even when they mean a genuine compliment, they always sound sarcastic, and…”

“Yeah,” Mod breathed. He looked a little dreamy rather than disappointed. Evidently, their permanently caustic tone was something Mod really admired, and Neil’s point had flown over his head.

“Um… I think they liked it when you, uh… got blood on yourself,” Neil tried.

“HA!” Mod grinned wide. “That’s good to hear.”

Neil smiled at Mod’s cheer, but he still had reservations. “But, you know, I don’t think you really… er, seduced them, or whatever.” He grimaced a little. “Even if they were really truly deeply impressed, they’d be more likely to offer you a job than to think about dating you.”

Mod frowned, then nodded contemplatively. “So, what do you suggest we do next? What’s a better gateway to their heart?”

Neil began to brainstorm again, placing a hand on his chin and “hmm”ing softly. He had already tried to appeal to what Doc liked about him, and what Doc liked about Mod. Maybe it was time to appeal to what Doc liked about… Doc.

Neil thought for a moment more. What would that be? What was the distilled, core essence of Doc? How did they act when they were happy?

“Doc is… very grand,” Neil began. “They might appreciate an ultimate, grandiose gesture.”

Mod nodded as he thought it over. Then, he smiled, eyes sparkling with plans already forming behind them.

--

“You’re… sure that you want me to be here for this?” Neil finally asked.

The three of them were riding together along a narrow, winding highway through pleasantly forested hills just a few minutes out of town, Mod in the driver’s seat, Doc in the passenger side, and Neil in the back, his spindly legs scrunched uncomfortably.

“Come on, darling,” Doc droned as they casually turned over their shoulder to address Neil. “Your self-esteem has been all over the place today. Yes, we always want you around, okay?”

“I… ok.” Neil had been addressing Mod, knowing of his plan, but he couldn’t really explain this in front of Doc. Mod only smiled.

The car swerved nerve-wrackingly on the twisting mountain road under Mod’s control as he squinted into the low sun. Neil gripped his seat very tightly. He sighed with nerves and tried to keep his gaze focused on the passing trees to assuage his upset stomach.

Finally, the car pulled to a stop at a small, dirt and gravel shoulder on the sheer side of the road. “Here we are,” Mod announced, in a curiously soft and breathy tone. The trio climbed out of the car and surveyed the scene.

Through a parting of the trees, the precipice looked out over a beautiful pine forest, luscious green trees extending for miles on both sides. As the mountainside descended into gentle foothills, the trees gradually thinned and gave way to suburban homes with large yards, which slowly shrank and shrank to the size of woodchips to the size of pebbles to the size of seeds, and became entangled with the spiderweb pattern of roads. They could see the busy developed side of town from here, buildings so strong and imposing up close now rendered as tiny, harmless blocks. The horizon was consumed by a fluffy, light layer of cloud, whose flatness betrayed the presence of the nearby coastline. The impending sunset cast everything in a rich, orangey golden light, casting dramatic shadows amongst the distant glimmering buildings and the stoic, verdant trees. A few small wildflowers adorned the edge of the precipice where they stood. Almost miraculously, no one else happened to be parked there that evening, so they had the spot to themselves. Neil already felt drenched in the romantic atmosphere, and they had not even begun.

“Crybaby Point,” Doc hummed.

“Hehe, yep,” Mod said dreamily.

“Why that name?” Neil wondered aloud.

“Some time in the 90s, a kid killed himself here,” Mod explained. “The story goes, his girlfriend followed him up and saw him do it, and she sat here and cried uncontrollably for days and days and days.”

Neil’s eyes widened in horror. What a morbid place to have a romantic outing! he thought. Mod and Doc seemed perfectly unperturbed, however – warm and dreamy, even. He should have known. He shouldn’t have even asked.

“I used to come here all the time, when I was in high school,” Mod sighed, leaning gently against the hood of the car. After a moment, he added, “I was a little emo shit back then.”

“‘Back then?’” Doc jabbed him lightheartedly, and he giggled back. They, too, took a spot next to him leaning against the hood of the car. Gazing out at the beautiful view softly, they raised their arm behind his back to circle around his shoulders.

Mod kept his eyes on the horizon, but a wide, giddy smile and a soft red blush both spread slowly across his face as he melted inside. Slowly, he raised his arm to curl around Doc’s back too. Filled with a shaky, excited confidence by this one casual gesture, Mod looked at them and began, “Doc, there’s something I – I’ve been wanting to ask you…”

With every passing second, Neil felt more and more like he shouldn’t be here. This was their big moment… he was an accessory, a third wheel, a blemish on Mod’s perfect scene – Suddenly he noticed Mod was reaching his other hand back towards him, palm up, fingers beckoning as though asking for something, while still looking at Doc. Neil stared at it helplessly. For a moment he glanced around himself, as if there was anything that Mod could possibly be trying to reach for besides him.

Finally, Mod whipped his head around and hissed “NEIL!” as he glared. He looked enraged. Instantly, Neil remembered – the flowers. He was supposed to hand him the bouquet at the right time. That was his job. That was the entire plan. He quickly grabbed the bouquet from its hiding place in the car through the open window beside him and thrust it into Mod’s hand.

Mod instantly turned back to Doc, a dozen red roses now in hand. Earlier, he had spent the afternoon meticulously dipping the tips of each petal in black paint, to ensure they had a special touch. He had been inspired by a bouquet Neil had once given him that had caught fire after an unplanned electrocution, but the painted flowers were more reminiscent of chocolate-dipped strawberries than the ashy, singed crisps of flowers Neil had created those years ago. They had both agreed Doc would like them this way, however.

Mod smiled sheepishly at Doc’s raised eyebrow. “Um,” he explained. His shaky confidence had shaken.

“And what are these for?” they drawled, a dry amusement shining in their eyes.

“Well,” he responded. Movements a little jerky, as if he was forcing each one, Mod retracted his arm from around Doc’s back, stood up from the hood of the car, and carefully got down on one knee in front of them. He held the bouquet out to them, and the scene was overall the most heavyhanded romantic proposition that Neil had ever seen played out in real life.

Doc wore only a confused frown.

“Doc, um,” Mod’s voice tremored slightly through his very nervous smile. “I was wondering…” He kept glancing over to Neil in the corner of his eye. “Er…”

As the silence drew on, Doc held out their hands. “What?” they prompted.

At this point, Mod simply turned towards Neil, who still stood by the car door. “Neil. The music.” His tone this time was more resigned than enraged.

Neil cursed under his breath as he quickly reached through the driver door to fiddle with the stereo. A second later a soft romantic keyboard and violin backdrop was drifting out of the car windows, setting the scene even more.

“Thank you.” Mod turned back to Doc. “So… so I was thinking, um… you know how – well – er, the two of us, we have a lot in common! A lot of common, ng, interests! Like… uh, medicine, sort of, and uhm, gore – horror! You know. And like, how we always, get along really well, and hang out, and have fun t– a fun time, together…”

Mod was turning pinker by the second, and his mouth was drying out. As he stared up at Doc, glowing and resplendent in the golden orange light of the sunset, their hair being lifted gently by the softest breeze, they looked more perfect and out of his league than they ever had. He averted his eyes before he lost the ability to speak altogether.

“So like, it’s like, it’s, um,” he continued stammering. “You know how, um, a lot of times we uh, we’re in bed together, because we’re both with Neil, and like kissing him and stuff, and it’s kind of weird right, because we’re just friends, or whatever, and uh – but – but like – wouldn’t it be easier if… you know… n-not that that’s the only reason! Mind you! It’s – it’s way more than that, of course…” he trailed off pathetically.

Neil could barely stand to watch this. Doc may be partially aromantic, sure, but even a dog would have understood what was going on here by now. He had to do something.

He carefully leaned up towards Doc. “Psssssst, Doc,” he whispered.

Doc blinked, twitching their head around towards him in utter confusion.

Neil tried his very hardest to surreptitiously convey through gestures what Mod was trying to say with his words. He winked. He nudged. He waggled his eyebrows. He pointed finger guns. Nothing felt adequate. Just as he was beginning to feel more like he was putting on a game of charades than a dignified hint, he noticed Mod had stuttered to a stop in his monologue and was staring at him with the same look of deep confusion that Doc was.

Neil dragged a hand down his face and sighed in frustration. He made grand, full arm gestures towards the sunset, the view, the car stereo, and the bouquet of roses in Mod’s hand, and made a vague “ta-da” noise.

“My boy, Mod was in the middle of telling me something, is there something you need?” Doc asked pointedly.

He glared at them. Then, he looked over their shoulder at Mod, and raised his eyebrows in question. Mod, frowning now, nodded once at him, then looked at the ground.

“He’s trying to say that he likes you,” Neil finally explained aloud.

“Neil!” Doc spouted angrily, with a degree of bite he had not heard from them in a long time, and he shrank back in surprise like a reprimanded child.

“What did I say!” he whined.

“You can’t just – don’t just say that for him!”

“B-but – but – it’s true! He told me, we – we’ve been collaborating all week trying to – ”

“I know that, dammit! I wanted to hear him say it!” they cried, and stomped their foot on the ground in frustration.

Mod and Neil both gaped. Then Mod grinned.

Doc sighed, then turned back to face Mod. “Mod, forgetting all that, please continue where you left – ”

“WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME?” Mod nearly squealed, smile stretching from ear to ear. He proffered the bouquet with renewed vigor.

Doc sighed again, but this time through a smile they couldn’t suppress. “Wow, Mod,” they drawled as they gingerly accepted the bouquet, finally. “I never knew you felt that way,” they couldn’t say with a straight face anymore, breaking into a snicker in the last word.

“Well, I do,” Mod said slyly, as he finally stood up off of his very sore knee, and stepped up close to Doc. “My heart burns with a wild passion whenever you are – ”

“Heartburn, you say?”

“Stop!” Mod laughed. “Just answer me.” He placed his hands on Doc’s waist, and bounced on his toes with excitement. “Will you date me? Will you? Will you will you will you will you will y– ”

“Yes, you buffoon!” Doc giggled. They drew even closer to him in turn, cupped his freckled face in their hands, and pressed their lips to his.

Mod was taken by surprise, eyes shooting wide open in shock as he blushed intensely, and then relaxed into the kiss, closing his eyes, curling his arms, and even – Neil almost laughed – bending one leg up at the knee. When they pulled away, Mod’s face was utterly starstruck and glazed over with glee.

“Remember to breathe, love,” Doc murmured to him quickly.

Mod made a strange choking sound as he sucked in a breath. “Thanks,” he breathed.

The whole sky turned a gorgeous rosy color as the sunset progressed, and the violins on the stereo swelled to a dramatic conclusion. Neil sighed to himself at the beautiful scene as the two both regained their composure. He was proud of his work helping it come to be, but he almost found himself wishing any of his own love confessions could have been so cinematic.

--

“So... you knew about it, the entire time?” Neil slowly inquired.

Doc, with a giddy Mod supported in their arms, turned and smiled at Neil as the three of them walked into his house that evening. “It’s so cute how you guys always forget about the numerous surveillance devices planted in your home and my constant monitoring of your activities.”

Neil bowed his head. “Ah.”

“You liked me all along, didn’t you,” Mod suggested smugly as Doc placed him down on his feet. He still kept his arms around them, clinging like an affectionate toddler.

“I’ve always liked you, Mod,” they replied happily, playfully dodging the question.

“But you know!” Mod pressed insistently, batting his lashes up at them.

As the two bantered excitedly and affectionately, Neil stayed silent. He still felt awfully like a third wheel here. He had just watched his boyfriend hook up with his best friend, and even though he had actually helped, even though he was actually dating them too, in some back corner of his mind, it still felt a little weird. Watching the two of them, he could see that they were a lot more comfortable in his own house than he was at this moment. He realized they would likely enter a honeymoon period, and they would only want to hang out with each other for a while. They would look forward to each other’s company more than his, perhaps. That was… okay. Neil was an adult, he could stand to not be the center of attention for a little while. No big deal. He could handle it. Really.

“Neil, you look glum as a plum,” Doc addressed him suddenly, breaking out of the ongoing silliness with Mod. “What is it?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, nothing, really,” he mumbled. “You guys work great together. Maybe I’ll leave you alone…” He awkwardly glanced around for a place he could slink off to dejectedly.

“Haha, I don’t think so,” Mod laughed incredulously. He and Doc both came up close to Neil.

“But, guys,” Neil half-laughed through a weak smile. “It’s… you guys just got together, it’s… your time is about you right now.”

Mod and Doc glanced at each other synchronously, identical expressions of narrowed eyes and coy smirks on their faces. It was a little scary how perfectly synced up they were already.

“Neil,” Doc began. “As Mod was saying to me earlier – ”

“We have a lot in common!” Mod reiterated.

“We both like horror movies,” Doc supplied.

“And fashion.”

“And ‘medicine,’” Doc smirked and air-quoted.

“And ‘pseudo-science,’” Mod air-quoted back in the same tone.

“But the silly thing is…”

“The most important, biggest common interest we share…”

“Is you.”

Neil’s heart skipped. His two partners each took one of his hands in their own.

“We’re both your biggest fans,” Mod grinned warmly.

“We wouldn’t be who we are without you.” Doc smiled softly, and glanced at Mod and back once again. “You are part of us.”

Mod yanked his arm down in order to kiss him on the cheek, and Neil’s heart swelled and fluttered. It was cheesy as hell, but still he couldn’t resist smiling and blushing. “You guys.” The deep appreciation he felt shone in his eyes.

Mod and Doc smiled at one another again, gratified and proud, and then led Neil to sit between them on the couch. They pressed close on either side of him, and resumed flirting and chatting enthusiastically with each other while their fingers intertwined in Neil’s lap. He idly flipped channels, not really taking anything in, as he soaked in the love flowing out all around him.

Mod was right – it felt fantastic to know that everyone in the nest of cushions felt the same way about each other. They may have a honeymoon period, but Neil would still be a part of it, and he couldn’t bring himself to be upset about this in the slightest.

He didn’t think he would be getting tired of this anytime soon.

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