Page 50 of Heat Clickbait
"That dignity is overrated and joy is undervalued." He disappeared under the balls again, resurfacing at my feet. "But they were probably right. Would've been hard to explain to Dr. Yates why we needed medical intervention because someone choked on a ball during heat."
"That's... a vivid image."
"I have a vivid imagination. It's a blessing and a curse."
We stayed in the ball pit longer than was probably socially acceptable, talking about nothing and everything. He told me about the first stunt that went viral (attempted to eat a sandwich while skydiving, lost the sandwich immediately). I told him about my first stream disaster (forgot I was live, had a full breakdown about a situationship).
"We're both disasters," he concluded happily.
"Successful disasters," I corrected.
"The best kind." He pulled me closer, balls shifting around us. "Can I tell you something without you getting weird about it?"
"That's a concerning start, but continue."
"I watch your old streams to fall asleep." The admission came out in a rush. "Not in a creepy way! Your voice just... helps. When my brain won't stop spinning, when the anxiety gets too loud, I put on your compilation videos and it helps me settle. Ghost does the same with those ASMR building videos, but your savage commentary is my white noise."
The vulnerability in the admission, from someone who usually deflected everything with humor, made my chest tight.
"That's not creepy," I said softly. "That's actually really sweet." I'd thought as much when Nova first outed him.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." I shifted to face him properly, balls rolling everywhere. "Want to know a secret? I've started putting your chaos streams on when I feel too controlled. When everything feels too scheduled and planned and perfect. Your energy reminds me it's okay to be messy."
His grin could have powered the entire adventure park. "We balance each other."
"Chaotic balance."
"The best kind."
He kissed me then, tasting like energy drinks and possibility, while we sank deeper into the ball pit. It was ridiculous and perfect and nothing like any date I'd ever imagined, but that was the point.
When we finally emerged, disheveled and covered in static from the plastic, the sun was setting. We looked like we'd been through a war with a rainbow, and I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt this light.
"Same time next week?" Crash asked hopefully.
"You want to do this again?"
"I want to do everything again with you. But with variations. Maybe next time we try the ninja warrior course. Or axethrowing. Or that place where you can destroy things with sledgehammers."
"You've really thought about this."
"I've got a whole list. Organized by chaos level and probability of injury." He pulled out his phone, showing me a note that was indeed color-coded by danger level. "Nova helped. He said if I was going to court death, I should at least document it properly."
As we walked back to the car, still finding foam pieces in unexpected places, I realized this was exactly what I'd needed. Not sophisticated conversation or meaningful art or planned activities. Just pure, chaotic fun with someone who saw my mistakes as features, not bugs.
"Thank you," I said as he opened the car door for me with exaggerated chivalry.
"For what?"
"For reminding me that falling can be fun if you're falling with the right person."
His expression went soft in a way that transformed his entire face. "Anytime you need to fall, I'll dive in after you."
"Even if you already made it across?"
"Especially then."
