.A/N.
Dear god. Okay, I've been working on Split, but I'm always getting sidetracked. Here's a drabble to tide you over.
Four weeks.
Kenny pondered how desperate he actually felt in that moment as he stared up at the dark second story window. It had been four weeks since he'd actually started dating the guy and due to all the time they put into school and their respective jobs, they barely had enough time to kiss each other let alone lay out all their emotions. One month after barely meeting Christophe DeLourne and the young man was about to see Kenny at his most vulnerable point.
He hadn't had nearly enough to drink just yet.
His Vans barely made a sound as he began his light-footed scale up the house; being a masked vigilante - and by consequence, hyper aware of his surroundings - turned out to be useful when one wanted to avoid being detected by parents. The seventeen year old boy would have no shame admitting the number of times he'd had to sneak out of a nameless girl's room in the middle of the night. It left him utterly baffled that he could leave so many partners easily and yet feel the need to stick with such a vulgar and elusive person as Christophe, despite the fact that he hadn't even given his body to him yet. No, that was a much more terrifying situation that would admittedly take more time to build up enough trust for. One month wasn't nearly a long enough wait to "lose your ass virginity" as Kenny liked to put it.
Musings pushed aside in his brain, he nudged open the window, surprised to see that it was unlocked. He knew enough that his boyfriend was very thorough when it came to locking up for the night, always worried about the welfare of his bedridden mother. Tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, he lifted himself into the room, careful to make no sound when he closed the window again. The blond didn't know why he expected the other boy to be asleep, but he was definitely very awake and watching Kenny with an unreadable expression on his face from his place on the bed. Brown hair disheveled as if he'd just woken up and an unlit cigarette dangling lazily from his lips, he sighed and shoved the Bic lighter he had been holding back onto his nightstand.
"Am I interrupting something?"
"Ouai, I was looking forward to smoking this cigarette." Christophe's French accent was still thick from years of refusing to let it go, reasons unbeknownst to even his own mother. He scooted over to sit against the wall, patting the bed next to him before plucking the cigarette from his lips and tossing it next to the lighter. Kenny took the offer and kicked his shoes off before curling up next to the brunette, his fingers beginning to trace circles in his ankle. They didn't speak for a while, neither of them knowing exactly what to say but not necessarily feeling rushed to break the comfortable silence either. Kenny was nearly asleep when he was startled back to full consciousness by the sound of Christophe clearing his throat. He grumbled about having to leave his position but cooperated when his parka was being tugged off and allowed himself to be pulled against the other's warm body.
"You want to tell me what's wrong?" His unshaved jaw scratched against Kenny's cheek as his fingertips stroked the back of his neck gently and the surprising affection was almost enough to make him break.
"No." He only wanted to be there, and by the look on Christophe's face, he seemed to understand. It wasn't as if Kenny didn't wantto tell him that things were falling apart at home. That none of his friends seemed to take him seriously. That he was tired of staring at his leaky ceiling and trying to ignore the sound of his parents screaming at each other long enough to fall asleep. He definitely wanted to confide in the brunette, but he'd only known him for four weeks.
Four weeks wasn't long enough to give Christophe his whole heart, but he was definitely close to that point, he thought before he drifted off to the feeling of the other's breath against his neck.