The Catcher's Dreams (FEATURED)

epilogue - rose macarons

A/N: Well, if you've read this whole thing, thank you so much! It means a lot to me. Please leave votes, comments and feedback!
If you liked The Catcher's Dreams, check out some of my other works (like the holiday one-shot Five Spices, starring older TCD characters, or my art book, where you can see my trashy art of the TCD characters and request TCD doodles and stuff) or check me out on Instagram (coelocrisis) or tumblr (coelocrisis).
Thanks!
Now, on to the epilogue...this epilogue doesn't really have to do much with the plot, but I wrote it for my friend (alizawhirl ) so, well, why not upload it for all the other Drake X Cody shippers out there? (It also justifies my use of the tag boyxboy.) An alternate, longer Drake X Cody epilogue is the aforementioned Five Spices, so be sure to check that out! <3

"W...What does the rose macaron even taste like?" Drake asked, nudging Cody and pointing at the small pink pastries behind the glass. Their pristine shells were glistening in the sunlight dancing through the large windows of the French bakery.

"They're good," Cody said, running a hand through his hair. His dark curls flounced as he titled his head upwards. "Tell you what, Hirsch. You get some vanilla and caramel ones and I'll get pistachio and rose, so we can try them and see."

Drake gave him a tiny nod, before looking up at the girl behind the counter, who was twirling a lock of blonde hair incessantly around her finger, lips slightly parted. "Er, alrighty, hi. Two vanilla and two caramel, please."

The girl grinned at him. "'Course."

Drake rocked back and forth on his heels, pulling down his hoodie with his hands in the pockets. "T-Thanks," he muttered.

The place was quaint, far from the bustle of the rest of the Euro Plaza first floor – especially at this time of day. Everything was set in pleasingly rich, smoky browns. Much like Cody's hair, Drake thought. He clenched the fabric of his pockets in his palms. He could feel them buzzing with sweat.

Should I tell him?

No. Yeah. No. Are you crazy? No.

His right hand fingered the phone in his pocket. The straps of his backpack clenched at his shoulders. Alright. Alrighty. Gonna do it. He blew the hair out of his eyes.

"You alright?" Cody asked. "Seem a tad nervous."

"Nothing. Nothing," Drake said. "Just..." He rocked back on his heels again. "Nothing."

Cody raised an eyebrow. "Dude, stop biting your lip. What's up?"

"Nothing!" Drake said. Its proximity to a snap made him redden. Was Cody offended? The basket of bread on the counter leered at Drake. You're horrible at this.

The girl had set out his macaroons on a plate. "That'd be forty yuan, thanks."

Drake nodded, stretching his lips in a tried-too-hard smile, before digging in his jeans pocket for his wallet. He gave the girl the money and took the receipt and plate of macarons. "I'll save us a spot...save us a spot outside," he muttered to Cody, who smirked. "Outside? Someone's feeling posh."

Drake shrugged too quickly, before taking the plate and weaving to the doors. A soft breeze tickled Drake's hair, easing it back into his eyes. "Ugh," he muttered, trying to peek through the forest of his bangs to see where he was going. The sun laughed at him. He finally settled the plate down on the table farthest from the doors, with a nice view of the Euro Plaza and its many rectangular windows shining with artificial light from inside.

"Alright," he muttered to himself, looking back to the glass doors. Within, the muted shape of Cody took his plate of macaroons and started walking over. "Alright. Alright. Alright."

He pulled out his phone, flicking over to Music. Spring from Vivaldi's Four Seasons started playing embarrassingly loudly, and with a hurried batting of his eyes, Drake dialed the volume down. "Alright. Nice." It was cliche, but all cliche things are cliche for a reason.

He shed his backpack onto his chair, zipping it open and extracting a plastic ziplock with tiny rosebuds, glittering in shades of red to pink. He poured a few out, arranging them beside the macaron plate.

"What's all this?"

Drake whipped around, shocked. Cody, half of a rose macaron in one hand, plate of the rest in the other, blinked. "Drake?"

"Cody, Cody," Drake muttered, jostling the ugly ziplock off the table. The remaining rosebuds scattered everywhere. Cody swallowed and took another bite of the macaron. "You alright?" Each curl of his hair was gently swaying back and forth in the breeze.

Drake took a deep breath, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans and then pulling notecards out of his pants pocket.
"Hey, Cody," he read. "This...this might look really..." The letters on the page were suddenly illegible. "...really..." He dropped his notecards and they spilled onto the ground with blank whiteness. "You...you..." Drake started. "You..." His eyes were shimmering with firefly light, pools of tree sap deeper than ever, surrounding stray flecks of gold. "You..."

Memories flickered through his mind, memories of rubber-band slinging Olympics, then trying (and failing) at Drake's compound's Clubhouse Swim Team, then lazy bike rides around the townhouses, then stopping at the playgrounds to sit on the swings and chat. Baskin Robbins at Pinnacle Plaza (Drake always got a cone), projects in school, meeting up to help each other with homework and ending up strolling around the lagoon in Drake's compound.

"I...I really really like you," Drake said, feeling his cheeks burning. "I...I've always really liked you."

Cody had started grinning. Grinning real big. He put his plate of macarons down on the table, and the two plates made a gentle clinking as they touched. His hands went up to brush aside Drake's hair, but the moment he did, a breeze pushed them back.  Then he started to chuckle. "You look so emo."

"I'm not emo!" Drake protested, starting to laugh as well. "I...I...cut it out, Cody! this is serious, Cody!"

Cody kept on laughing. His shirt fluttered briefly. "You're such a nerd. Four Seasons, really? You're such a little nerd. Little nerd with your classical music – "

"Baroque."

" – and your roses and your macarons and your notecards and..."

"Cut it out..." Drake muttered. "Y'know what?" He grabbed both of Cody's arms. "Y'know what?"

"...and your little nose and your huge eyes and your absolutely, definitely emo hair – " And then Drake leaned in. That made Cody's laughs stop.

It was a short kiss – partly because Drake hadn't kissed anyone before in his life and partly because one of Cody's curls had spiraled down, down, down from its prim spot on his head and poked Drake in the eye, causing them both to burst out laughing. But the kiss had been nice...and now Drake knew what rose macarons tasted like.

And that's the Catcher's Dreams, folks! Hope you enjoyed the ride. Again, please leave some feedback, I'd really appreciate it.