disclaimer: [skrillex begins playing] you know that i don't own the long walk i shouldn't have to say this.
Stebbins had thought that walking home would be the hardest part of the way, and he was right. As he left the building, following Barkovitch, he wondered if the dark boy had gotten used to his presence.
Barkovitch had his headphones in and was completely ignoring him. This had to be changed. Stebbins hopped up onto a bench lining the sidewalk and began hopping from bench to bench. He hadn't done this since he was about seven, and somehow this made him laugh to himself.
Barkovitch looked up irritatedly. "What the fuck are you even doing?"
"Jumping on the benches."
"That's something that little kids do."
"So?" Stebbins smiled and hopped from the bench onto Barkovitch, practically tackling him. He was light enough that he was merely hanging onto Barkovitch's back.
"What the actual fuck are you doing?! Get off me!" Stebbins clambered up onto Barkovitch's shoulders, making the other boy give an exasperated sigh. "I'm short. If you're trying to get my attention, you're just going to break my back."
Stebbins giggled, suddenly feeling incredibly silly. He was like a third grader with a crush. Was that it? Did he have a crush on Barkovitch? The stupid boy had only helped him out without asking anything and walked him home in order to protect him. That's how they'd met. How do...crushes...feel?
"I mean it, get the fuck off my shoulders. I'm going to get premature arthritis because of this."
"Arthritis is in your legs, Barkovitch. Not your shoulders."
"Fine, ok, now shut the fuck up." They must have looked extremely odd, Stebbins sitting on Barkovitch's shoulders like a child and Barkovitch grumbling all the way. "You going back to your house? Because I'm sure as hell not letting you back in mine."
This made Stebbins pale and lose his giddy attitude. "I..."
Barkovitch said through what seemed to be gritted teeth, "C'mon. You'll be fine. He can't be that bad." The words sounded uncharacteristic on Barkovitch's lips.
"No, it won't be," Stebbins said, resting his chin on top of Barkovitch's head. "My father is a terrible human being, Barkovitch."
Barkovitch knelt down. "You'll be fine, now get the fuck off my shoulders before I get you off by force."
Stebbins laughed and climbed off of Barkovitch. "Could you come with me?"
"Where?"
"Home."
Barkovitch blinked. There was something really annoying about the way Stebbins was standing in front of him with wide eyes and a somewhat terrified expression. But at the same time, it was sort of sad. "Fine. But I'll just walk you upstairs and then leave, okay?"
"Fine." Stebbins tried to pull his face into a smile, but couldn't quite manage it.
By the time they'd gotten to Stebbins' house, Barkovitch was beginning to regret his decision. He'd found that Stebbins was practically clinging to his arm. At least he hadn't been going on and on about some stupid book or something.
Stebbins let go of Barkovitch and knocked on the door fearfully. "Dirk! Dirk, where did you go last night?" A small woman who he assumed was Stebbins' mother hugged him.
"I was afraid," Stebbins said softly.
"Oh, Dirk...well, your father's still here. Who's that behind you?"
"Gary Barkovitch," Barkovitch muttered.
"What?"
"Gary Barkovitch," Barkovitch said more loudly, looking at the woman. She looked...tired. Like she'd spent too long trying to appear as though she wasn't tired and it had the opposite effect.
"Oh, hello! Are you Dirky's friend?"
Barkovitch resisted the urge to snicker, and then realized what question had just been posed. Friend. No, no, they weren't friends. Friends do...what do friends do? What constituted friends? "Yeah," he said, swallowing hard.
There was a loud yell from inside the house and Stebbins turned pale. "Oh, well, come in!" Stebbins' mother smiled awkwardly and rushed inside. Stebbins scampered up the stairs the moment he went inside. Barkovitch followed, noticing that the stairs creaked under his feet. God, this house was old as fuck.
Stebbins' room was dark, Barkovitch didn't even see a light switch. "Is there even a fucking light switch?"
"Lamps," Stebbins said. "I don't like them all that much, though. My room is better when it's dark."
"That is really fucking weird, Dirky."
Stebbins blushed. "I just enjoy having no lights, alright? It's calmer, really. Light can blind you if you look at them for too long. No one's ever gone blind from being in the dark."
"Yeah, well, it's a hell of a lot like being blind."
"Don't look at it like that." Stebbins set down his bag. "Look at it as just not being able to see for a bit. It's calming, to not have to look at things."
Another yell resounded from downstairs and Barkovitch looked around uncomfortably. "I should go."
"No. Stay." Stebbins grabbed onto his arm.
"My parents are going to worry. I've got homework."
"You never do your homework."
"I can start now. Let me go, freak." Stebbins noticed that the term had stopped being an insult and more of just an affectionate nickname. Barkovitch didn't spit it out like he had when they first met. It was more like an actual name for him. And coming from Barkovitch in that way, he didn't really mind.
"No. Stay. Please."
"I'm going." Barkovitch started towards the door and suddenly Stebbins felt a surge of panic. His father was downstairs. His father was yelling. His father was probably hitting his mother and ostracizing her for something she hadn't done. That thought made him even more terrified.
"Stay." Stebbins' voice was desperate this time. "Please, Gary. Stay." This time, his voice lowered and suddenly tears were choking his words away.
Barkovitch stopped. "Alright. Just for a bit, though." Christ, why was this fucker so hard to deny? It was like having a really annoying pet. He made his way over to Stebbins' bad and sat down next to him. "Hey, c'mon. You've never had a problem with what other people do to you. Christ, you're so fucking weird in that way. But that's good here, right?"
Stebbins nodded absentmindedly. He felt as pathetic as he looked. Jesus Christ, when had he gotten to be so...emotional? Feelings were funny and trivial, and came and went like weather. They weren't something that he wanted to talk about a lot, or even think about. Damn feelings.
"I fucking hate you, freak," Barkovitch muttered as he put an arm around Stebbins, catching the other boy by surprise.
The declaration of hatred had stopped sounding like a threat and just sounded like unwilling affection. "Do you mean that?"
"Sure, fine, whatever. Shit, I don't even know." Stebbins leaned into Barkovitch and sighed. "Yeah, have I stayed long enough?"
"But this is rather comfortable."
Barkovitch laughed. "Just hold out 'til tomorrow, Dirky, okay? I'll be like five houses down or whatever shit. If your poor, lonely soul gets too depressed you can come over or something. Actually, don't do that. But, yeah..." He finished awkwardly.
Stebbins noted that he'd just called him by his mother's pet name for him. Something about that was a combination of comforting and embarrassing. "Whatever you say."
Barkovitch disentangled himself from Stebbins and Stebbins recalled the fact that they'd slept in the same bed. He was having difficulty distinguishing between platonic need and romantic love at the time.
But he had forgotten the fact that he had some damn ugly scars on his wrists and that there was an angry father downstairs for the moment, and just for a second, Stebbins wondered about the possibility of at least temporary happiness.
i didn't mean for this to turn out as fluffy as it did and i am very sorry
