#nb:submit

[nicobarton-blog]

"do you know how hard it was to shop for you? it’s like… what do you buy someone that already has everything? what do you get someone that doesnt want anything? and then it clicked!" henry, stupid, silly, bucktooth smile still on his face, hands him an empty box "you get him nothing! nah, i’m kidding. i got you— us— these. my dad has a pair from his x men days and i remember us being so jealous of them as kids. full names and birthdates are on this side and theres space to engrave more on the other. happy birthday broseph and many more to come” 

"henry…" they had been friends for long enough that nico knows the motions. "you need to stop. i refuse to accept anymore gifts from you" his hands already pushing away the empty box until he sees the dog tags fall in his hands. the metal is cool against his fingers as he’s tossing them, observing his name on one and henry’s name on the other. he didn’t realise this was what he always wanted until it’s sitting on his neck, because of course he would be so excited about having them that he would want to wear it now until forever. "you have to wear yours too" he slips the other dog tag over henry’s shoulders before lifting his own in comparison. "hey, look, it’s like we have a couple item-whatever-thing now" 

[nicobarton-blog]

because of their mutual interest in sciences sebastian found it easier bonding with nico than he did camila; though she was his goddaughter. sebastian appears to surprise the other with a slap square across the face “now we’re even. happy birthday buddy and, maybe just for today, the science bros can live on — ” he’s grinning now, pulling a letter out from his inner blazer pocket ” — i gave my old lab a call, you know that one in london, and they’re happy to give you an interview under my reference if you choose to pursue a career in science” 

he’s confused when sebastian slaps his across the face, for no reason he can think of. his hand comes to sit on his cheek, where he can feel the slightest tinge of pink underneath “even for—what did you just say?” the slap is forgotten, as was the greaten, as he greedily dives for the letter, internally screaming when he reads the letter head. “uncle bash—this—this is too much—you didn’t get me—uncle bash" he’s spluttering, embarrassed and excited melding together. his resists the urge to hug his uncle but it gets the better of him as he tackles the other, arms aiming for his waist and pulling him into a hug "you dont know how much this means to me. thank you, thank you, thank you”