When the group got together for movie nights, it was always a struggle. There's plenty of room for a projector at Monmouth, Blue thought as the five of them crammed into the tiny living room at 300 Fox Way. And a big, empty wall for a screen, and it's not like he can't afford it, the jerk.

The jerk in question was currently on the phone, ordering pizzas from Nino's (large, deep-dish, half sausage and half avocado, and a large cheese at Blue's request). Richard "Dick" Campbell Gansey III, known as Gansey to his friends, was the sort of person that made sure to buy or bring food for everyone, but also the sort of person that constantly forgot what kind of food a person like until he was told two or three times. It bothered Blue at first, but she soon realized that it was only because he had so many other things going on in his head at any given time. Sometimes, he even forgot to feed himself.

"Pizza's on its way," he said, hanging up the phone and turning back to survey the group. Blue had claimed the couch, as it was her house and she could, dammit. Adam leaned against her legs, fingers tracing small circles on Ronan's head, which was in his lap. Finding out about the two of them was the sort of unsurprising revelation that made perfect sense afterwards, what with the lingering looks they were terrible at hiding and the way that Adam's hand sometimes curved toward his nose after Ronan laughed his bright and terrible laugh. His hands smelled like mist and moss from a strange lotion he used to keep them from getting chapped, and he wouldn't tell any of them where it came from. (Blue had a suspicion that it came from Ronan, and the gentle way Ronan held onto Adam's hands sometimes told her she was right.)

Noah was wedged in between Blue and the armrest on the left, his fingers occasionally stroking her hair. Gansey threw himself down on Blue's other side, immediately grabbing at the remote in her lap. "Nope," she grabbed it before he could. "We're not watching the History channel again. You got to choose last week. Someone else gets to choose this week."

He stared at her for a moment, askance, before sitting back, tucking the expression under an easy grin. "All right, Jane. You choose."

"No," Ronan levered himself off of Adam to grab at the remote. "She got to choose week before last. I get to choose this week."

"Noah hasn't chosen at all," Blue retorted, holding the remote out of his reach.

"I'm fine with watching whatever Ronan wants to watch," Noah said, happy to just be tucked in next to her. "I can't really remember my favorite movie anyway. I think it took place at a high school? And there was a serial killer who planted a bomb under the school?"

"Heathers," Adam replied, and everyone stared at him for a moment. He shrugged. "It was one of my mom's favorite movies. There were a bunch of staged suicides, and one of the girls in the popular clique was involved. All I remember is a lot of dark humor and croquet."

Noah perked up, a smile spreading across his face. "That's it! Heathers."

"That sounds fun. We'll watch that," Blue said, turning on the Blu-ray player to rifle through Netflix. The player and the account were both Gansey's, brought over every movie night, since all Blue's family had was an ancient VCR.

Ronan swore. "Of course, since ghost boy wants it-"

"Since Noah hasn't chosen yet," Gansey broke in, his voice soft. Ronan immediately quieted. "We all get to choose a movie, Ronan."

"Yeah, yeah," he sunk back into Adam's lap, tugging his boyfriend down for a quick, open-mouthed kiss. When they separated, a faint blush stained the back of Adam's neck, and their fingers were intertwined. Blue felt a faint pang, almost painfully aware of where Gansey's hand rested on his knee. No, she told herself. That isn't allowed. Ronan stared up at her like he knew exactly what she was thinking. For a terrifying moment, she thought he might say something about the way they sat, legs not quite touching, not quite looking at each other for fear they wouldn't be able to stop. "Put the damn film on, already," he said instead, and Blue relaxed. "I'm tired of sitting around yapping."

Blue made a face at him and found the movie. Just as she pressed play on the remote, the doorbell rang. "YOUR PIZZA'S HERE, RICHIE-RICH," Calla bellowed from the next room, Maura's giggles following soon after. Gansey blinked at the shout before getting up to get the door. "I'll help carry the pizza," Blue offered, standing up herself.

"I've got it, Jane," he shot her a grin (that did NOT have her stomach fluttering, nope. Not at all. Not even a little) before disappearing through the door. He reappeared a minute later, arms full of pizza boxes. The boys and Blue fell on food, scrambling for napkins and soda before settling back down to eat. When they sat on the sofa again, Gansey's legs crossed and his knee just barely brushed Blue's. She froze, pulse hammering in her throat. It's okay for friends to touch, she reminded herself, relaxing just enough to reach for the remote and start the movie again. We're allowed to sit like this. We're allowed- oh.

Gansey leaned forward to whisper in her ear as the opening played, garlic mingling with mint on his breath. "I'd like to go on record as saying this is not what rich people are actually like," his mouth quirked in a quick grin.

"I'd like to go on record as saying yes, this is exactly what rich people are like," Blue replied, watching as one of the Heathers hit Veronica in the face with a croquet ball. She did not turn her head to reply. If she did, there would be hardly any space between them, and that wasn't something she wanted to test her will against at the moment. So she stayed frozen forward as Gansey settled back into the sofa again, and she thought she would be okay.

Until halfway through the movie, after the pizza was all gone and Noah was watching the screen with a grin that grew bigger every scene, and Ronan was whispering something in Adam's ear that was making him blush again. Gansey's hand settled on the couch next her. This is fine, she told herself. It's just a hand. It's fine. She couldn't touch it. She desperately wanted to.

It inched forward, fingertips just brushing against Blue's leg. She sucked in a breath, thankful for the loud movie that covered the sound. This was beyond the boundaries of allowed. She let herself sneak a peek at Gansey to find he wasn't looking at her, eyes fixed resolutely on the screen. The line of his jaw was tight, the only giveaway that he might feel anything about how his fingers touched Blue's leg. She let her own hand fall against it, brushing the back of his hand and tangling her index finger around his. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed at the contact. The tiniest amount. Not allowed, not allowed.

But they stayed that way for the rest of the movie.