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Sally is attempting to press the family DVD of Frozen into his hands.
Kel smiles warmly at her, but his eyes flick towards the stairs.
"Sally, I love you, can we watch this later?" he asks. "Since Sunny's over right now..."
She pouts, her eyebrows angling down. It's a stubborn, petulant expression like Aubrey used to make when she was little— Kel might be biased, but it looks way cuter on Sally. And makes it way, way harder than it should be to tell her no.
"Sunny's not heeere," she argues.
Technically, she's right. When he showed up at Kel's house, the first thing he did was declare that he needed to pee and walk off. A classic move from the boy who Kel has admired (and maybe a little more than that) since he was, like, 10.
"But he won't be gone very long. Not, uh, an hour and forty-two minutes, at least."
What he doesn't say, knows he shouldn't: You're the coolest sister ever and I do like spending time with you, but I also like hanging out with my best friend and I don't think watching Disney movies is much of a bro bonding activity.
"What if we just watch a little bit?"
Sally blinks those big doe eyes up at him, and Kel can't help but melt, even though he knows he's being baited.
Before he knows it he's inserted the DVD into the television with that satisfying, dooming little click. Sally claps happily and searches for the remote that she only barely knows how to use as the menu screen comes up.
Instrumental music plays, along with the beeps and plips of Sally messing with settings. Kel looks at the plastic case which once held a disc, and which now lies on the floor. The cartoon characters on its cover stare holes into him.
"I have made a mistake," he says, which makes Sally shush him, because the movie is starting.
He takes his place on the couch.
They're only minutes in, Sally singing along happily (also, badly) to the song about chopping up ice, when Sunny appears behind the sofa like a ghost and sticks his head right next to Kel's.
"Augh!" he exclaims. "When did you get there?"
Sunny doesn't answer, instead looking at the movie and back to Kel in a clear signal. He raises his eyebrows.
"Um, it's. Sally put it on."
"By herself," Sunny responds in a monotone.
"We can always do something else!"
Sally rips her attention away from the movie to stare at Kel like she's been betrayed.
Kel gives Sunny a similar look: a pleading one that says: look I know but it's not like I can do anything about it! You try arguing with her!
Wordlessly, Sunny walks around the side of the couch and flops down beside him, on the opposite side to Sally. He shuffles close to Kel, enough that their legs touch, and leans back to watch the movie with him.
Kel blinks at him in surprise and then sighs loudly in relief.
That's how a rare, treasured Sunny and Kel Bro Night becomes a night of watching a movie made for children.
At first, Kel is very uncomfortable. He keeps shuffling, looking behind him, checking Sunny's expression to make sure he's really not bored, he's really okay with this, he doesn't want to leave or go spend time with one of his cooler friends. Every time he sees the same relaxed, slightly-sleepy contentment. Which baffles him, because— no offense to Sally— but if his friend's little sister coerced his friend into turning their precious one-on-one time into two hours of sitting around doing nothing and listening to family-friendly earworms, he would be getting up and doing jumping jacks instead by the fifth minute. Unless the hypothetical friend were Sunny, but that's irrelevant.
He feels like he's roped him into this whole thing. Yet, strangely, Sunny doesn't seem to mind.
Well, Kel's always been flexible. It takes only a few songs for that discomfort to melt away, and before long Sunny has been flawlessly integrated into the family movie night rhythm. Sally, though completely enthralled, will occasionally insult the characters onscreen for knowing less than she does ("But you won't hurt her 'cause you love her too much!") or cheerily and loudly point out some small easter-egg detail to Sunny, her new bucket to deposit all of her Frozen knowledge to. Kel does the same, commenting on this or that, messing with Sally by pretending he doesn't understand the story ("Wait, but isn't Elsa married to that mustache dude?"), making dumb jokes in hopes that Sunny will crack a smile. Every time, of course, Sally tells him to shut up and that he's ruining the movie. Her comments, naturally, are more important than his.
Sunny slots in perfectly. He listens to Sally's rambles, and adds on to Kel's jokes, and pokes him occasionally just to mess with him back.
"I wanna be Sunny's sister," Sally declares during a slow-pan shot where she's not interrupting much. "He's way better to watch movies with."
Kel gasps in mock shock and puts his hand to his chest, leaning backwards.
"Betrayed! Disowned! By my own Sal-Sal! I'll never recover."
That gets a full snort out of Sunny— a high honor. Kel turns his head to grin at his friend but finds himself interrupted by a sudden weight on his shoulder. Sunny's leaning on him, his head tucked into Kel's neck, so cozy, so close. All of a sudden, the room feels a lot warmer.
It's nice. It's affectionate. He feels his hand raise to pat Sunny's hair before he's even conscious of it, and stifles the urge, and pushes his arm back down. This moment is everything that he could want: Sally happily kicking her little feet on one side of him, his best friend snuggled up on the other, probably about to fall asleep.
He tells himself that there's nothing else he wants from this moment. And, to distract himself from nothing in particular, nothing is wrong— he focuses on the movie.
Anna and the other guy— Hans? Yeah. Anna and Hans are on some sort of porch-thing somewhere, and there's a funny little drum-like instrument beginning in the background, and oh! He knows this song. Sally loves this one. He's heard it a lot.
He begins to doot-doot along with the backing drum, bouncing minutely side to side and annoying Sally greatly. She hisses at him, a failed shush, while putting her finger to her lips.
"Aw, c'mon, have a little fun, Sally!" he speaks over the beginning of the lyrics, ruffling her hair. She scrunches her face up like a cat.
A funny idea to get on her nerves even more strikes him, and like himself, Kel can't help but give in. He gently pushes Sunny off of him, setting him up on the couch like a ragdoll as he rubs at his eyes. And then Kel gets off of the couch, standing directly in front of the screen, and stretches one hand out like an overdramatic actor.
"All my life has been a series of doors in my face, and then da-ba-da I run into youuu..."
Kel doesn't know the lyrics well. And his singing? Awful, especially with the exaggeratedly high 'girl voice' he's putting on. But he's having too much fun making a fool out of himself to mind, and even Sally is entertained. At the least, her grumpy expression keeps twitching into a smile, which means the same thing.
He does a little jaunt to mimic the changing of characters, and puts on a way too deep voice to pretend he's Hans, and flubs the next lines entirely.
"Something, something, bap-ba, chocolate fondue... but with you!" he belts, entirely off-key.
"But with you..."
Kel and Sally's eyes both snap to Sunny.
He's wearing a little smirk, still leaning tiredly into the couch in the exact position that Kel had arranged him. And he's singing.
Kel has rarely heard Sunny sing. He's just not a very lyrical guy; though he does like music, who doesn't, he's always more inclined to bob along with the beat or get lost in thought imagining epic musical fight scenes in his head. (Kel sometimes wishes he could read minds specifically so that he could watch these.) The few times he does sing, it's usually imperceptible mumbles or humming. But here's the thing: the problems he has with talking, choking on what to say— those don't apply when he sings. Sure, he doesn't always get the words right, but his voice is clear as day when he's singing, one of the only times it ever comes out in full force. It's raspy, but melodic, and just beautiful. A really rare treat to hear.
"You know this song?" Sally asks him, shoving herself in Sunny's personal space. He shrugs in response.
Kel clears his throat and pretends he wasn't completely caught off-guard. He ramps up his singing as the music, too, builds, and he and Sunny harmonize— one far more musical than the other—
"Love is an open door!"
They jump back and forth for the chorus. Kel sounds like an angry cat, but he's almost laughing too hard to keep singing. Sally has given up on pretending she's not enjoying the show; she cheers every time the two of them hit a note.
And then, on a wild impulse, Kel spins up to Sunny, grabs his hands, and pulls him off of the couch. The much shorter Sunny falls limp into him, eyes widening in surprise as he scrambles and struggles to find his balance.
"Sorry!" says Kel, sheepishly.
Sunny narrows his eyes at him. But where Kel might have expected him to flop back onto the couch, or directly on the floor if he was really annoyed, Sunny instead grabs Kel's wrists back and tries to spin him around in retaliation. He's not quite strong enough, and the effort knocks them both onto the ground in a pile.
Sally crows at them and almost falls onto her side with laughter. Kel attempts to glare at her, but he's too busy grinning. And he's very glad to be tan, because if he were as pale as Sunny his whole face, neck to ears, would be a furious red. Speaking of, Sunny has his head buried in his hands. He must be embarrassed to have fallen.
As the music and the movie quiets down, transitioning whimsically into the second verse, Kel helps Sunny up. He dusts off his shorts, and then pretends to dust off Sunny's shoulder, too, even though there's nothing there. He winks at him jokily, and for some reason Sunny turns suddenly and sharply away.
When they're both standing, Kel grins mischievously and takes a big inhale.
"I mean it's crazy—"
Sunny deadpans at him, missing his line. Kel pokes his shoulder, making him roll his eyes and look away again. He prompts his friend yet again, leading the next line.
"We finish each other's—"
"Sandwiches."
Kel wheezes straight through the male lead's "That's what I was gonna say!"
"I've never met someone who thinks so much like me," Sunny picks back up. He goes through the next silly line with a completely straight face and lack of tone. "Jinx. Jinx again." Even though Kel didn't say anything.
This makes Kel, who is alright with admitting he has an awful sense of humor, double over and struggle to breathe. He recovers, mostly, in time for his next line, and he and Sunny keep going, doing the robot dance with the characters on screen, Kel much more enthusiastically (and much less robotically).
"You—"
"And I."
"We're just meant to be!"
They waltz (poorly) and spin all the way to the next chorus.
"Love is an open door!" they sing.
Another stupid and impulsive idea hits Kel. Sunny looks very small and very carryable. And they're acting out a sort of medieval, chivalric romance, right? Even if they keep switching roles.
Kel reaches out and picks Sunny entirely up. His singing melts into sputtering as he's spun around in the air, and then he's back on his feet like it never happened, swaying.
Kel's smile slightly drops as he realizes how out of left field that was. He looks again to Sunny for reassurance that it wasn't weird, but he's still trying to right himself from the dizziness. Suddenly there's a tension in the air that Kel's sure even Sally can feel: was that okay? Did I cross a boundary?
And then Sunny laughs, quietly, a sound like coughing.
"Can s-say something crazy?" he asks, along with the man on screen. It's a full sentence, barely sung, and it's clear that having to speak it is messing with him a little. But his devotion to the bit is like reassurance, and for some reason, Kel's heart skips a beat.
It skips another when Sunny drops to one knee and bows.
"Will you marry me?"
Kel's face flushes wildly. And for a moment, so caught up in the scene, he forgets to put on his exaggerated girly voice.
"Can I say something crazier?" he jokes. "Yes!"
The instruments fade away. The two of them are left in the silence, posing, hearts beating too fast.
The meaning of what Kel has just done hits him like the drop into a cold ocean.
Sunny's face turns bright, glaring pink. Kel feels like he's burning all over.
"Thaaat was a love song, huh!" Kel says, sounding awkward, sounding dazed, like he hadn't noticed it before.
Sunny nods.
"Just so you know—" Kel begins to back up, nervously— "I don't— I mean, I love you, but I don't love love—"
What he doesn't say: I mean, even though I sometimes really want to brush your hair out of your eyes just to touch your face, even if I play better basketball when I imagine you're in the stands, even if I've thought about being Kel Suzuki maybe once or twice and I care about you more than anything and I want to spend my whole life with you, it doesn't mean anything. I can't like you like that, I'm not supposed to, I don't want to— or do I? I don't want to ruin what we have because I think that would just break me. I'd rather take these feelings to the grave.
The characters on the screen keep on talking, their words blending into nonsense, the rhythm of it digging into Kel's head. He's got tunnel vision, can't see anything except the carpet and his own feet. He attempts to shuffle back to the couch, mouth running with excuses.
Something light and delicate touches his arm. It's Sunny's hand. He pulls him forwards, gently, and guides his tall frame down until they are eye to eye.
"Kel," he says, in his wonderful, raspy voice, his voice that's only ever as loud as it needs to be, that is, in this moment, just loud enough to catch Kel completely off-guard with what he asks next.
"Do you like boys?"
"Huh?"
Sunny is blushing. A lot. And for the first time, Kel realizes that it might not just be out of shame. Huh, he thinks, he blushes with his ears too. It's cute.
He holds his arm a little tighter.
"I..." Kel gulps. He can't hide it anymore, though, can he? "Yeah. As much as I like anyone in, uh, that way."
Sunny looks at him with the sharp glint of a decision in his eyes.
And Sunny leans in and kisses him.
It's short. But it's electric. Soft lips on his. Everything Sunny does is measured and perfect and this is no different, a short moment of serendipity, of happiness and bewilderment flooding Kel's bloodstream in equal measure. He can feel his body heat right there on his face.
And just as quickly he pulls back, and it's over.
"Sorry," Sunny says, his expression regretful.
"You don't have to be sorry!" Kel answers, for some reason unable to keep himself from laughing. He's the one used to pushing Sunny's boundaries, making the stupid, fast decisions, checking last-minute that he didn't overstep anything. To see Sunny do it too, that's— relatable? Funny? Never met someone who thinks so much like me, right?
He reaches out, shaking off his best friend's hand, to touch his cheek.
"I love you too," Kel says with a smile.
They hear a cheer from the couch.
Sally has evidently stopped paying attention to the movie, and is now clapping her hands excitedly for them. She giggles at Kel and Sunny's matching flustered looks.
"That was like in the movies! Is Sunny my brother too now?"
"Sally!" Kel yells. "...Uh, maybe? Sort of? Is..." He glances to Sunny. "You okay with that?"
"Did just ask to marry you," says Sunny with a shrug. "Yeah."
Sally cheers again.
They get back onto the couch, Kel still in the middle, except Sunny has gone from leaning on him to fully lying down in his lap. Surely he can't even see the movie that way, but it does put him in hair-petting range. Speaking of the movie, they've missed at least three crucial scenes. But it doesn't matter much; all of them have evidently seen it before, after all. They just enjoy each other's warmth and presence, Sally and her brother and the boyfriend she just accidentally got him, for the rest of the afternoon.
That's how a rare, treasured Sunny and Kel Bro Night becomes a date night. And, honestly, Kel wouldn't have it any other way.