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#just thinking bout how greg is trying his best to fix their friendship
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ceg fic: josh reaches out!
title: josh reaches out! characters: josh & greg summary: josh wants to reconnect. notes: given josh’s recent bouts of therapy and the fact of greg’s return, I am DYING to see them interact. one of the weaknesses of the first season was always the fact that josh and greg’s relationship did not seem like a close friendship, so I’m curious how it will play out in s4. i’m sure we’ll see it before long now, but then i got impatient. technically takes place post-series. Ao3
Therapy has been going great for Josh. Sure, Dr Man Akopian still gives him weird looks sometimes, like when he first mentioned that he had moved in with Bex. But it’s not too bad — progress is supposed to be two steps forward, one step back (even if he sometimes stumbles over which is which) and their sessions have already given him so much new information about how he interacts with the world and the people in his life.
Hector has been super supportive about it, which is great, and Whijo is Whijo: snarky and always texting Vic (who’s really awesome, actually. Between Darryl and Vic, Whijo has definitely upped his boyfriend game these last few years).
But then there’s Greg.
Greg’s current place in his life is hard to define. Sure, Josh has seen him when he visits, when they get together with Whijo and Hector, but they haven’t really talked much. Not like they are sitting in silence or anything: Greg will talk a little about life in Atlanta, but he always falls silent the second Josh says anything, and they haven’t hung out one-on-one since he moved.
With a little self-reflection (and some gentle prompting from Dr. Akopian), Josh kind of gets why. The uneasy undercurrent between them has existed for years; they might have boiled over relatively recently, but the envy and slights and resentment had simmered there for a long time.
They haven’t had a chance to talk about any of that. And that isn’t right. Even if their paths lie in different directions, that doesn’t mean they can’t be close, that they have to let a gap widen between them. They have been best friends since kindergarten—they should act like it.
Josh has a plan to fix that. And a Gesture, with a capital ‘G’.
(which is perfect, because it also stands for Greg)
All that’s left is to see if his childhood friend is open to the idea.
~
He finds Greg at Whijo’s gym, gingerly testing out one of the leg press machines. Josh gives him a bright wave and tries to pretend that he doesn’t notice how Greg’s shoulders slump a little at the sight of him.
“Hey, Serrano! Nice form,” he says, starting off with a compliment. “How’s it going?”
Greg’s mouth twists into a wry half-smile. “Not sure. Whijo says I’m doing all right, but then he also compared my technique to Hector’s mom, so I’m questioning how good it can actually be.”
“Dude, don’t worry, that’s totally a compliment. Hector’s mom is super spry for her age.”
Greg just shrugs, like he’s not entirely sure one way or the other. A slightly awkward pause ensues.
Josh takes it as his cue.
“Hey, uh, did you know Charles Bukowski died on March ninth?”
Josh beams when Greg twists around to look sharply at him.
“…yes, he did,” says Greg, a little confused, eyes narrowing. “I know that. How do you know that?”
“I Googled it.”
“Right. Why did you Google it?”
“That’s next weekend, right?” Greg nods cautiously, and Josh continues, “I’ve been thinking—we haven’t really been spending much time together. Like, actually talking.”
“Yeah, by choice.”
“Not mine,” says Josh firmly, and Greg’s eyebrows arch up and he blinks, surprised. He disengages the machine and stands to face Josh properly.
“Okay, yeah, that’s kind of true.” He crosses his arms. “Why are you bringing it up?”
Josh takes a deep breath. “Just because a lot of stuff has changed since you left: first you went to Emory, and then I almost got married, then I didn’t get married and tried to become a priest instead, then I moved in with Hector’s mom and became a go-go dancer—”
“I mean, I did hear about those things,” interrupts Greg. “Not from you, but like, from everyone else. And, you know, the Daily West Covina, which is garbage but also surprisingly thorough.”
Josh winces. “Yeah, exactly. And I mean, sure, we hang out together when we’re with the guys, but you and I really haven’t been talking with each other. So, I’ve been talking to my therapist about that, and I think that maybe we should make…time. To talk.”
Greg nods, his forehead all wrinkly the way it gets when he’s seriously thinking something over, his hands fiddling with the towel that had been draped over his shoulder.
“…Okay. What does Charles Bukowski have anything to do with it? I had no idea you knew who he was.”
“I mean…” Josh rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. “You used to mention him a lot.”
Greg cocks his head to the side, like a confused seagull. “Really? You remember that?”
“I heard you,” says Josh defensively. “I just, well, I wasn’t paying that much attention most of the time. But I know you get bored just staying in town during break, so I was thinking that maybe we could go to LA and spend a weekend driving around. You know, visit all of those literary landmarks or whatever.” He starts to tick them off on his fingers. “De Longpre apartment, Skylight Books, Wacko’s Soap Factory, University of Philosophical Research, Green Hills Memorial Park—”
He stops abruptly when Greg holds up his hands, shaking his head.
“Whoa, slow down.” He eyes Josh, clearly confused. “You don’t know anything about Bukowski. How long did it take you to look all of this up?”
“I mean, I didn’t look it all up myself, I found some lists online and kinda went from there…”
“Oh, okay,” Greg nods sagely, in the way that used to annoy Josh, shifting his way like he’s about to impart some new wisdom. “Look, I’ll admit, it’d be cool to visit some of those landmarks, but I know those tours, and given that Bukowski was a functioning alcoholic, I honestly don’t think—”
“Oh, don’t worry, I know!” Josh rushes to explain, eyes wide. Greg pauses, surprised, and Josh continues, “Yeah, I thought that might be a bad idea, so I went through the list and took out all of the liquor stores and made some substitutions.”
Huh, it’s rare to see Greg at a loss for words.
“Oh.” He blinks and clears his throat. “Really, you did that? What kind of substitutions?”
“More bookstores, mostly.” Josh grins and starts counting off his fingers again. “There are specialty bookstores from all over the county: secondhand, antique, New Age, cat-friendly, romance—hear me out, there’s this massive store, The Ripped Bodice, in Culver City that is the place to be—”
“Not everyone can remember names like you, Chan Man. Do you have those written down somewhere?”
“Yup! Here.” Josh produces his phone and passes it over to Greg, watching as he scrolls through, lips moving silently.
“This seems to be less of a Bukowski tour than just a bookstore tour of LA,” says Greg, forehead wrinkling in a very Greg way. He doesn’t sound mean about it, though, just like he is trying to confirm that he understands what Josh is saying.
Josh hadn’t thought about it like that. “I guess so. You’d, uh, still like that though, right?”
“…I would, actually,” admits Greg, and he even sounds surprised, though it’s hard to tell when he’s staring down at his shoes. When he looks up to Josh again, the lines on his face are no longer quite so tense. “Josh?”
“Yeah?”
“Not that I don’t appreciate the thought,” Greg says, again shifting his weight, though not nearly as sanctimoniously as before. “But this doesn’t seem like it would really your thing.”
Since when do you care about what I like? is the unspoken sentiment, and Josh winces at the not-unearned sting.
He shrugs self-consciously, rubbing the back of his head. “I mean, I wouldn’t do it alone. But my therapist been encouraging me to get out of my West Covina bubble, and one way of doing that is by exploring stuff beyond my interests. I know you love old bookstores, and there are books on everything, right? I’ll probably find something cool. Except art history — I tried learning about it for a date and it didn’t really work out. But forget about that—the important part is that we get to really hang out, since we really haven’t had the time what with…everything. We were best friends. I hope we still are. I want this trip to be our chance to reconnect.”
He’s trying not to be pleading, because he knows he does that—that he has a tendency to make decisions without feedback—and this suggestion is supposed to be an olive branch, but it won’t be if it sounds like he just dumped it on Greg and expects him to go along for the ride.
“So…what do you say?” Josh finishes lamely, his shoulders sagging a little.
Greg looks pensive, as Greg often does, and Josh sucks in a breath, waiting.
“Yeah, I would. This sounds awesome, man,” says Greg at last, though his forehead is still wrinkled as he looks between Josh and the phone still in his hands. “Thanks for putting it together. I’m in. Let’s do it –let’s go on a road trip.”
When he passes the phone back to Josh, it almost feels like they are in communion—for once, on the same page.
“Awesome!” Josh beams, delighted. “I knew you’d be into it. Bex said I’d probably have better luck just kidnapping you to have ‘a spontaneous bonding session’,” he deploys air quotes, to convey Rebecca’s precise phrasing, “But I said, dude, Bex, that’s like illegal.”
“Yeah, it super is, I’m glad you didn’t do that.”
“I’ll drive though, don’t worry, I’ll get us there in no time. I’ve had a ton of practice—remember, can’t stop, won’t stop!”
“…Yes, because I don’t have a car anymore, you are still in charge of driving,” says Greg, though now he sounds a little doubtful. But that’s just classic Greg—not everything was gonna change just because he’s in recovery.
Josh grins at him and feels a small spark of delight as Greg meets his eye, and after a moment, offers a hesitant smile back.
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