Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

James was greeted with the warm scent of sugar as he opened the door to the bakery. He took a deep breath, reveling in the smell of coffee and baked goods and felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. He adjusted the leather messenger bag that rested against his thigh. Outside, the evening sky was slowly changing from pink to purple and cars splashed puddles onto the sidewalk as they sped by. A yawn burned in his chest and he blinked heavily. The combination of warm air and dim lighting made him feel safe and sleepy, until he was jolted out of his thoughts by a familiar voice.

“James! You’re here.”

James turned to face Roger, who was seated at a table in the back corner, nursing a mug of coffee in his hands. Beside him sat the third member of their group, Joseph Hewes. Joseph offered James an off-handed wave. James raised an eyebrow, as he walked over to their table.

“Where else would I be?” He asked, before pulling out a chair and sitting down across from Roger. He placed his bag gently down on the floor. James looked around the room. A display case featuring rows of artfully decorated cakes illuminated the room, the warm light reflecting off of the tile floor. Although he’d just ate, James heard his stomach growl and blushed. “Where’s George?”

“In the back, probably,” Joseph responded, considering stealing a drink from the cooler next to him.

Roger didn’t say anything, preoccupied with something in his lap. Joseph glanced at Roger’s lap and sighed. James looked from Joseph, to Roger, who sheepishly looked away. James looked back at Joseph who nodded. James groaned, pressing a hand to his face.

“What?!” Roger asked defensively, scowling at the man across from him.

“Tell me you didn’t bring-“

“Of course I did,” Roger snapped. James sat back in his chair, unsure whether to be annoyed or amused.

“Why do you always bring the lizard, Roger?”

“He has a name.” Roger looked down at his lap with a pout.

“Why do you always bring Hector?” James asked, amusement winning over. A grin lit up Roger’s face as he plopped a small brown lizard onto the table. The lizard looked up at James with indifference, sticking its tongue out.

“Because I, for one, enjoy his company.” The three of them stared down at Hector, somewhat expecting him to respond. Hector, being a lizard, did no such thing.

The momentary silence was broken by the opening of the kitchen door, and the entrance of George, wearing a pink frosting-stained apron, who proudly lifted a tray of cupcakes in the air.

“I made cupcakes!” He chirped. The pride on his face quickly turned to disgust upon seeing Hector. “Roger, put that thing away!” He said with a scowl. James and Joseph laughed quietly as Roger sheepishly tucked the lizard into his chest pocket. Still scowling at Roger, George placed the tray of cupcakes on the table, before untying his apron and tossing it over the counter. He noticed the drink in Joseph’s hand.

“Are you gonna pay for that?” He asked flatly.

“No.”

George sighed and muttered something about being taken advantage of, before walking to the door to flip over the ‘open’ sign. After readying two more cups of coffee for himself and James, George sat down at the table and scowled at the untouched tray of cupcakes. He took a bitter sip of his coffee, glaring at the three of them.

“You guys want these cupcakes, or not?”

The three of them immediately grabbed a cupcake from the tray, Roger breaking off a small piece to feed to the lizard in his pocket. James leaned over to grab his bag, and pulled it up onto his lap. He fished around in it for a moment, before pulling out a folder and setting it on the table. He opened it to reveal a stack of character sheets; one for himself, Roger and Joseph.

“So what have you got for us today, George?” Roger asked through a mouthful of cupcake.

“It’s a surprise, obviously,” George grimaced. “And please wipe your face.”

An hour later, James was face down on the table, Joseph was laughing his ass off, and George was ready to throw his Dungeon Master’s Guide at Roger.

“I roll again to pet the dog-”

“NO. NOT AGAIN,” George screeched, slamming his hand on the table, causing a twenty-sided die to roll off and clatter to the floor.

“Give me one more try!” Roger whined. George threw his Dungeon Master’s Guide at Roger. Roger gave a nervous yelp and tried to duck, only to be smacked in the face with the book.

Joseph stood up, trying to form a physical barrier between them. Still laughing, he cleared his throat while Roger touched the spot on his cheek where the book had hit him tenderly, and George sat with his arms crossed over his chest, seething, blonde eyebrows pointed angrily over blue eyes.

“George,” Joseph said breathlessly, “Please don't throw things at Roger. Roger, please stop making a fool out of George.”

“He was not making a fool out of me,” Spat George, his voice getting unreasonably high, “He was just being a-!”

“I just want to pet the dog!”

“IT’S A FANTASY ADVENTURE, WHY DO YOU WANT TO PET THE DOG?!”

“Guys!” James cried, cutting George off, and threw his hands up into the air, “Guys, please. How about we just take a break.” The other three nodded, and Joseph slowly sat down, still wary of any throwable objects in George’s reach.

Roger peeled the wrapper off of another cupcake. “Sounds fine to me.” James and Joseph let out a collective sigh as Roger and George continued eating their cupcakes, glaring at each other from across the table. After a long, tense, silence, Joseph spoke up.

“So how have things been going for you, James?” He asked, deciding it best not to talk to the others until they’d finished their cupcakes. Before James could reply, Joseph looked to Roger, cringing. “You’ve got frosting all over your face…”

“Okay.” Roger gave him an inattentive nod.

James smiled, shaking his head before leaning back in his seat. “I can’t complain. Work has been… uneventful. As has… everything else.” George perked up.

“What is it you do again? Ask people about their feelings?” He asked sarcastically, brushing blonde curls of hair out of his face.

“I’m a psychiatrist,” James replied through gritted teeth.

“Right. Yeah. That,” George replied, more interested in his cupcake.

After a moment of silence, Roger hurriedly wiped his face with his sleeve, much to the chagrin of everyone else. “And how’s John?” He asked brightly, with a smarmy grin. George tossed him a napkin with a disgusted look.

Joseph smirked. “Yeah, how is Mr. Dickinson?” James felt his face grow warm and he scowled at the two smirking men.

“I don’t know. How would I know?” He muttered hotly. James fingered the rim of his now empty coffee mug, his eyes downcast and staring at his lap. Roger swallowed the last of his cupcake and rested his chin in his hand.

“You know you could… talk to him,” Roger mused, “I know for certain he doesn’t… hate you.” He said with a shrug. James looked up at him flatly, a dull look in his eyes.

“Oh, he doesn’t hate me. I must be the luckiest man alive, Roger,” He drawled. Roger scowled, folding his arms over his chest and looked at the far wall.

“I was just saying…” He pouted. James sighed.

“Yes, yes I know.” The entire group went silent, before George spoke up in a small voice.

“I think Rodge had a point,” He mused, noting the shocked look Roger gave him at the nickname, “You should talk to him. At the very least it couldn’t hurt.”

James shook his head. “It could hurt. I could say something stupid.” He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. George shrugged.

“Better say something stupid than stare at him from across the room all the time like…” He paused, “Like a creep.” The other two nodded, hiding smirks behind their hands. James’ cheeks went red and he bitterly reached for a cupcake. He turned it around in his fingers.

“I am not a creep, George.”

“If you don’t talk to him, nothing’s ever gonna happen,” Roger said quietly. James shrugged.

“Good,” he spat.

“He’ll get a boyfriend…”

James’ face went redder and he took an angry bite of his cupcake, glaring at each man at the table who, in turn, looked away sheepishly. Roger leaned back in his chair, tipping it backwards and stuck his tongue out at the lizard in his pocket. Joseph sighed, before giving James a stern look.

“Either you talk to him, James, or spend the rest of your life wishing that you had,” He said flatly. “Just because he’s the only one who’s too stupid to understand how you feel about him, doesn’t mean it’s not worth it.”

“Don’t call him stupid!” James spat, slamming his cupcake down on the table. Roger froze and Joseph instinctively placed a hand on his shoulder. James’ expression softened and he looked down at his lap. “Sorry,” he mumbled. The room was filled with an awkward silence, until George got up, stretched, and asked, “Coffee?” James and Joseph nodded, handing him their mugs, and the group silently, unanimously agreed that Roger did not need any more caffeine. Going behind the counter, George went to the coffee machine and set about refilling their mugs.

“How have the rest of you been?” He called over his shoulder. Joseph shrugged. Roger sat up a bit straighter in his seat, careful not to jostle the lizard in his pocket.

“I met another John last night,” He chirped, tapping his fingers excitedly against his chair. James smiled. Joseph gave a begrudging laugh.

“Witherspoon? The guy who owns the church?” James asked quietly, grinning at Roger’s newfound excitement. Roger nodded quickly, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up awkwardly.

“He’s very…” Roger paused, before meeting James’ eyes and looking away sheepishly. “Nice.”

Joseph immediately pointed at Roger, slamming his fist on the table for extra emphasis. Roger looked at him with an expression akin to a deer about to be run over by a truck.

“You like him!” He boomed, causing Roger to instinctively raise his hands to protect Hector, who seemed entirely unbothered by the whole ordeal. Roger glared at Joseph from across the table defensively, as George returned to the table, setting down mugs of coffee in front of them.

“I most certainly do not!” He exclaimed, sounding a bit more offended than he actually was. He tapped his hands against his thighs nervously. The other three men just stared at him with smug grins until his offence was melted away and replaced with frustration. His face fell into a miserable scowl. “Whatever,” He mumbled.

“Wow,” George chirped, taking a sip of his coffee to hide his smirk. “I can’t believe Roger Sherman has caught feelings.” The other two smiled their agreement as Roger huffed, taking Hector out of his pocket to have a reason to avoid eye contact.

“I like plenty of people, George,” He muttered, taking Hector’s small lizard hands in his own. Joseph snorted.

“Name three.”

Roger looked up at him with a defiant scowl. “Well-” He paused, before brightening with raised eyebrows, “Richard! He’s… nice. Handsome.” The other three smiled.
“Okay, Rodge, that’s one,” Joseph smirked. Roger huffed and went silent for a while. He opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it. He looked at Hector, perhaps wanting to ask him what to say. After a full minute, he groaned and threw his hands up in the air lazily.

“Fine. Whatever you’re trying to prove, you’ve proved it.” The other three grinned.

“So you like him?” George prodded. Roger rolled his eyes, giving a tired shrug.

“Sure, I guess. But it doesn’t matter. He’s kinda..” He paused, biting the inside of his cheek, “Straight.”

James blinked. George looked at him with his mouth open. “Roger…” James started quietly, “You don’t actually believe that, right?” Roger’s eyes narrowed.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He huffed, watching Hector curiously move across the table.

“You wouldn’t,” Joseph mused, “Because your social skills are… nonexistent.” George and James gave small nods of agreement. “Roger, he is the gayest straight person I have ever met.”

Roger scowled. “It’s not nice to assume things about people.”

“But-” George raised a finger in the air, “You’d be happy if he did, in fact, turn out to be gay?”

Roger felt his face grow hot and scooped Hector up off of the table. He looked at the faces around him, the familiar smug smirks only making him feel more embarrassed. He sighed, resting his head on the table.

“Ugh. Fine! I like him! He’s… pretty or whatever. Happy now?”

Roger hadn’t expected the applause that would follow his confession. As his friends grinned and patted him on the back, he groaned and pressed his face into his hands.

“I can’t believe it,” James said quietly, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye, “Roger Sherman has feelings!”

“We’re all so proud of you!” George said with a smile, handing him another cupcake as recompense for his troubles.

Roger sat up, accepting the cupcake grumpily. “You are, without any doubt, the worst friends I’ve ever had.” He shoved half of it in his mouth.

Joseph shrugged. “Yes, but we’re still your friends.”