Author: TippierCoffee
Disclaimer: I do not own—nor do I claim the rights to—Codename: Kids Next Door or any of its characters. All credit goes to rightful owner: Mr. Tom Warburton. I do, however, own Marcus Gilliam, Wallace Gilliam, Sakura Sanban Beetles, Sheila Sanban Beetles, and Jacob Matthews.
Enjoy :)
First age: Wally and Kuki, second age: Wallace, third age: Sakura and Sheila.
Revelations.
1st of September (42 . 16 . 9 (going 10))
Jay. A nickname Wallace had given the guy he bonded most with since he started in high school. During the month the two became almost inseparable, despite only having biology and soccer together. In biology they partnered up for assignments, and sat next to each other during class. This time, they'd gotten a smaller assignment: To make a model of an animal cell. Their teacher wanted them to make it of Play-Doh which the school provided, and they'd picked out a their colours already. Red for the plasma membrane, orange for the nucleus, blue for the mitochondria, red for the smooth ER, yellow for the rough ER, green for the ribosomes, and purple for the lysosomes.
They were supposed to sketch how they wanted to build it, and Jay was happily at work. Wallace was too distracted staring at Jay. His jet-black hair and the aquamarine-coloured eyes that shimmered. His brows were furrowed in concentration, and he worried his soft-looking lower lip between his straight teeth. His pale complexion and heart-shaped face with the round chin. He talked about one thing or another, but Wallace couldn't pay attention to his words. Whatever it was, Jay was clearly excited about it. His voice was bouncy and danced around the words he formed. Like a secret music only meant for trained ears. It made Wallace's head buzz with a million voices, each one louder than the last, while his heart did a lively tap dance in his chest. Jay's eyes caught him, sparkling with life, and it sucked the breath right out of Wallace, but then Jay's eyes changed, a small scowl forming on his perfect lips.
"Are you listening, Wallace?"
"What?" Wallace snapped out of it, irritated with himself. It must have been the tenth time he'd spaced off today, staring at Jay.
Jay rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Wallace. I thought we agreed to take this seriously, and you're just sitting there, spacing out."
"Sorry," Wallace shuffled his feet, embarrassed with himself. "I don't know why I'm so distracted today."
"Well, whatever it is, could you maybe… I don't know. Try to push it aside for now; unless you want to talk about it?"
Wallace looked up, drowning in aquamarine with a gentle shimmer. Jay was nothing if not beautiful. It might be easier than he thought. Confess to him then and there, but something still stopped him. The golden cross necklace with a Jesus figure Jay always wore. The simple symbol he defined himself as a Christian, and Wallace didn't know how 'extreme' he was. If he simply loved Jesus, or if he shunned certain groups of people. If he shunned the group Wallace belonged to.
Wallace shook his head. A white lie it was. "I guess I'm just a bit apprehensive about the whole genetics thing we'll focus on at some point. Don't get me wrong, I like biology, it interests me. I just, don't really like genetics."
"How come?" Jay put down his pencil, his focus solely on Wallace. Wallace's heart stuttered for a while.
"Well…" Wallace looked around and leaned closer. "Don't tell anyone. It's just… Wally isn't my biological father."
"He's not?"
Wallace shook his head. "I've called him Dad for ten years, but my biological father's name is Marcus. I haven't seen him since I was four."
"How come?"
It wasn't meant as an insult, Wallace knew that. It was just Jay being curious, but the question still stung. It stirred memories of a courtyard and three guys laughing at him, calling him a reject.
"I don't know," Wallace shrugged. "He just, left me on the streets one day and never came back."
"That's awful," Jay scowled, his eyes flashing with hurt for Wallace, and Wallace had never wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to now.
"Well," Wallace shrugged, trying to make it seem like less than it was to him. "I don't really care. I have Wally, and Wally is a great dad. I love him, he loves me, we get along, I can talk to him, he supports me."
That much was true. Wally had always supported Wallace and always would. Still, even though Wallace truly thought Wally was more than enough, a part of him had been split since that day Frank had called him a reject. The words weren't true, and yet they bothered Wallace, nagged at his mind. Maybe he just needed to know why. Why had Marcus left him behind and never contacted him again? Why did Wallace even care; he had Wally.
"That's good," Jay smiled, though his eyes gave away he knew Wallace held back. Still, he didn't press. He just gave a nod to their paper and started talking about their model again, and this time, Wallace paid attention, despite how difficult it was.
Sweat prickled down Wallace's forehead while he ran with all his might. Adrenaline pumped through his veins and sent blood rushing to his head. It made him dizzy and hyper-aware. The rush of fresh air pressed against his ribs, and expanded his lungs, making him feel new and refreshed. His heart thrust against his ribcage, creating a loud rhythm that pulsated in his veins and ears.
"Pass!" a guy to his left yelled, and Wallace caught sight of a grey T-shirt. No shirt; his team. He kicked the black-and-white leather ball with precision, and it flung across the field with a satisfying thud before getting caught by his teammate's feet.
Next thing Wallace knew, another guy was at his feet, tackling him just a millisecond too late. They both fell furiously to the ground, the world spinning around them. The heel of the other guy's boot rammed into Wallace's thigh, and he clenched his jaw to not let out a squeal. The pain shot through his veins, like a shock wave. It travelled up to his knee, to his hip, and back down again, settling at the start-point. Wallace tried twisting himself out of the other guy's body, but somehow ended up twisting them more together. He was sure if he looked on from the outside, he wouldn't know which foot belonged to him, and which belonged to his tackler. Coach Morse blew his whistle with a loud shrill and went to pull the two of them apart. It took all of ten seconds before they sat and stared at each other, and another five for coach Morse to scream at them.
"Go to the bench and get patched up, you two!" another shrill and practice continued.
Wallace huddled over to the bench, the two volunteer female nurses giggling behind their hands. Of course they would. When they sat down, Wallace gave himself time to finally catch up to what had happened and realise who had tackled him. Jet-black hair, aquamarine-coloured eyes, a lopsided guilty smile, and a hand scratching at his neck.
"I'm sorry, Wallace," Jacob chuckled. "I thought I could steal the ball from you. Didn't count on coming in late and ending up scrambled on the ground."
"It's okay, Jay," Wallace chuckled, trying not to blush. "You've gotta work on that reaction time, though."
"I know," Jacob sighed, taking a swing of water. "I just… Don't know. Maybe I'm scared to badly hurt someone, and so I hold back."
"Well," Wallace swallowed, scolding himself for not making the time to fill up his own water bottle. "People are bound to get hurt in sports like these. You shouldn't feel too guilty if you're to blame."
"I guess," Jacob caught his eyes, his own dancing with amusement. "Forgot your bottle, Wallace?"
Wallace laughed nervously. "Nah. I just, forgot to fill it up."
"You can have some of mine," Jacob offered, reaching over his bottle.
"You sure?"
"Yeah, of course. I'm not ill or anything."
Wallace laughed once again, accepting the offer while trying not too focus too much on how their fingers brushed together, and how soft Jacob's were.
"Thanks, Jay."
Wallace was still in a trance when he entered the house. Though he had played a bit more, and showered, and changed clothes, the ghost of Jacob's touch had never left him. Somehow, it made him scared how far gone he was. How easy it was for Jacob to steal all of his attention if they weren't playing soccer. He just needed to enter a room to be the sole focus of Wallace. And Wallace noticed everything. The way there was a kind of nervous skip to Jacob's graceful steps, as though he held himself back in an attempt to look presentable and serious. The way his eyes twinkled with all of his emotions, and his lopsided smile. His white teeth, and the scent of raspberries that seemed to follow him everywhere. His soft voice full of care. Gentle and warm. Like heated honey falling like a waterfall. There was a kindness to it at all times, and the smile was always present. Breathtaking and impossible to look away from. Sometimes, Wallace swore he glowed. An angel that somehow descended to this earth and chose to have Wallace for his best friend.
His dad stood in the kitchen, stirring in a pot. It smelled like pasta with meat sauce. "Welcome back, Champ! Mum will be home late."
Wallace didn't reply. He tossed his shoes and jacket, and kept walking in a trance to his room. He ignored Sakura's greetings, and Sheila dancing around him in a taunting manor. He kept pushing forward, into his room, his body light and feathery. He wasn't sure if he even touched the ground. He let his bag pack slide onto the floor, and fell onto his bed with a sigh, focusing on his ceiling until he went blind while touching his fingers.
He wasn't sure how long he'd lain in his bed before a knock came from his door, and he absentmindedly gave whoever permission to enter.
"Hey, Junior," Wally said, sitting at the edge of Wallace's bed. Wallace gave a heartfelt grunt in response. "Is something wrong."
"No…" Wallace looked at his dad, his emerald eyes twinkling with amusement. He sighed and sat up. "I don't know."
"Want to talk about it?"
Wallace wasn't sure, so of course he did. "Sounds like a good idea."
"Sound a bit serious, there. You okay?"
"I'm fine, Dad," Wallace chuckled, giving Wally a shove. "It's just… well…" this was a bit embarrassing, "it's about love."
"Ah, I see," Wally chuckled good-naturedly, and Wallace wanted to sink into the ground. "You've reached that age, huh? Girls and crushes."
Wallace sighed. "Crushes, yes. Girls, no."
"Oh," Wally's expression changed and he cleared his throat. "Sorry about that."
"Don't worry about it," Wallace muttered.
Wally gave a smile and squeezed Wallace's shoulder, making the tension he hadn't notice melt away. "Want to tell me about him?"
"No!… Yes," a groan. "I don't think it matters. He probably doesn't feel the same anyways, and I'm scared to admit anything to him, because I don't want to risk our friendship."
"Been there, done that," Wally smiled. "The worst that can happen is that he turns you down."
"The worst that can happen is that he doesn't want to be my friend."
"Why wouldn't he want to be? Because you have a crush on him?"
"Or because I'm gay. Pick one."
"He minds gay people?"
"No," Wallace got defencive, then sighed. "I don't know. He wears a golden cross necklace with a Jesus figure, and I know it shouldn't mean much. The marriage battle was in your time, and people are a lot more accepting. But there will always be someone opposed, and I guess I'm scared he's part of that group. You know," another sigh, "the group who quotes Leviticus and call people like me an abomination."
"Hmmm," Wally flicked his thumb against his index finger. "When is Pride Parade?"
"I dunno," Wallace shrugged. "August? Why?"
"I was just thinking. If Pride was close, you could bring it up and see how he reacts. Take it from there. But since it won't be here until next year, maybe try to casually steer a conversation onto the topic of… how many letters are there now?" Wallace couldn't help but laugh and Wally gave him a smile. "Try to bring up the community. See how he reacts. If he seems to take it well, you can always take it from there. Come out to him if you need to."
"I want to," Wallace admitted. "He's a good friend. I don't want to hide from him."
"Just try," Wally smiled. "See what happens."
"Thanks, Dad," Wallace leaned in and hugged Wally, surprised he felt he needed this.
"Don't mention it, Junior," Wally smiled against him, rubbing his back and squeezing his shoulder. He pushed him at an arms length. "I will always have your back, Wallace. Don't forget that."
"I won't," Wallace smiled, and he loved the feeling he got. The feeling of being home and belonging.
Even though they didn't share biology, Wally protected him the same way he protected the twins, and he joked with him the same, and treated him the same. Like one of his own, because maybe that was how he saw Wallace, and that was how Wallace wanted to be seen by him.
"Is it anyone I know?" Wally teased.
"What; really, Dad?"
"You can't tell me you have a crush and not expect me to snoop. And your mum is just as bad."
"Great," Wallace rolled his eyes, but he was almost overwhelmed by happiness. "His name is Jacob. Jacob Matthews. He lets me call him Jay, though. Gets irritated when others do it, so I'm not sure how to interpret that."
"And he's of course handsome, am I right?"
"Oh my God, Dad!" Wallace flung his pillow at Wally, giving him a smile. "He's not bad on the eye. But I don't just care about his looks."
"That's good," Wally looked at the clock and slapped his own lap. "I better get back to the dinner. Sheila gets cranky when she's hungry," he gave Wallace a smile. "I'm glad we had this talk. It means a lot you trust me with these things, Wallace."
"I'll always trust you with these things, Dad."
Wally gave him a light knuckled chat to the shoulder and got up. "Dinner in twenty, Junior."
Wallace nodded and watched the door close behind Wally, and even though he was more than grateful for him, and honestly didn't need more than what he had, he still felt curious. He shouldn't care about Marcus, he knew that much, but he did. He cared at least a little. He was unsure whether he'd ever get answers, or how his mum would take it when he worked up the courage to ask about Marcus. All the things he didn't remember. He was more curious how Wally would take it, and almost felt guilty about the hurt he might put on him. For now, it didn't matter. For now, it wasn't important. He had his mum, his sisters, and Wally in his life, and that, truly, was more than enough.
2017 rewrite.
Criticism and/or advice(s) on improvement is/are always welcome and highly appreciated.
~*~TippierCoffee~*~
