The car ride was kind of awkward.
Rosemary had put on some music, a classic rock station, but kept the volume turned low. It had started drizzling and the rain -patter patter-ed against the windows. Alex was sitting perfectly still in the front seat next to Rosemary, who kept glancing his way surreptitiously.
Not surreptitiously enough, unfortunately.
Maybe she wouldn't ask anything else, Alex thought to himself. Maybe we'll just sit in tortured silence all the way to James' house, wouldn't be so bad, I'd honestly rather—
"So," Rosemary began, and Alex had to force himself not to groan. "Alex. I feel like we've had more intense conversations sooner than most people usually do, and we've skipped right over the simple stuff."
This was not at all what he had expected her to say. "Simple stuff?"
"Sure. Like… what's your favourite colour?"
"Oh. I... like blue."
"I like tangerine orange." She shot him an expectant look, apparently not at all noticing his own expression of uncertainty. "Now it's your turn to ask me something."
Well alright. This was exactly how things had gone with Day, that first afternoon of walking together. He could do this.
"Favourite animal?" He asked.
"Dolphins. You?"
"I tell people dogs, but I guess if you're looking for a more exotic answer, probably elephants."
"I love elephants," Rosemary agreed easily. "And dogs, but we have Molly so you probably already figured that." She chanced another quick look at him. "You know, I'm going to be honest, I thought when Day said you were coming over early yesterday to see Molly, he was just making excuses so Robin didn't embarrass him. But… you really did come for the dog?"
Alex grinned. "We actually made those plans before either of us—" He faltered. "Um."
"Confessed?" Rosemary supplied calmly. "Came out to each other?"
He fidgeted uncomfortably. "Er. Yes. The second. Both."
Rosemary's remarkably relaxed stance on the subject was, quite frankly, unnerving and suspicious. When Jerry's friends had all come over, he'd heard some pretty bad retellings about getting kicked out, prayed over, condescended to… Day said his mother was accepting of him, but exactly how accepting could she be?
Another glance from Rosemary caught his look, and her already kind face softened even further.
"Alex. Sweetheart. I love my son and I am proud of him for being smart, kind, and tender-hearted. There is nothing on this earth that will ever make me love him any less." She thought for a moment and then added, "I'm also not a bigot, which is probably pretty helpful."
That startled a laugh out of him. "Probably a bit, yeah. Sorry. I guess I'm just a little surprised is all— I've heard some bad stories recently."
"Are you out to your foster father?"
He snorted. "We barely talk about groceries."
She frowned, like that was somehow one of the worst things she'd heard, and he hurried on.
"It's not a big deal, really. I practically live with my friend Tom, so I don't see Alil as often as you seem to think."
"Well I can't pretend that's not good. Are you out to Tom's parents?"
"Tom doesn't live with his parents. He lives with his brother."
Rosemary's lips pressed together and his own twisted up in a sardonic parody of a smile.
"I know," he said. "What a pair we make. Him with his absent parents and me with my dead ones. It's one of the reasons we get on so well, I think."
"Jesus. Okay… How old is the brother? Jerry, right?"
"Right. He's… 24? Turning 25 in a few months, though."
"24," Rosemary repeated, and there was something in her voice, some emotion, that Alex couldn't quite place. It wasn't exactly realization, but it was something close to it. Alex wondered what she was realizing.
"He's one of the best people I've ever met. And to answer your question, yes, I'm out to him. He was the second person who knew, after Tom."
"And he took it alright?"
"Yeah. He really did."
"Good."
They were quiet for a few minutes, inching through the city, the windshield wipers rhythmically swishing away the streaked droplets on the glass.
"How about your favourite food?" Rosemary said suddenly, breaking the silence, and their game continued.
The rest of the car ride passed like that, with a calm sort of back-and-forth, and the more they talked, the more Alex relaxed.
By the time they reached James' house, Alex was grinning openly at some of Rosemary's answers.
"But it's got to be one of those really fancy house coats," Rosemary insisted as they pulled into the driveway. "With the fluffy pink fur on the edges and it's got to billow or else literally what is the point."
"Ah," Alex agreed, nodding. "The rich widow housecoat. I know exactly what you're talking about. Personally, I would prefer a cape or a cloak, but like you said, billow or bust."
"Billow or bust," Rosemary nodded back. They smiled at each other, and something inside of Alex slackened.
"Thank you," he said softly. He clutched his hands together on his lip and forced himself to make eye contact. "For everything you've done for me. Giving me a ride, letting me stay over last night, the stitches, not pushing things with Alil…" He trailed off. There was so much. When was the last time an adult had done so much for him? When was the last time an adult, a real adult, had done anything for him?
"Anytime, love. I mean it." She reached out and gave his shoulder an easy, motherly squeeze and peered at him with concerned eyes. "You'll be okay here? Truly?"
"Yeah. James is the best. Discreet. I'll be okay."
"Alright. And I'm sure I'll see you soon?"
She raised her eyebrows expectantly, and he smiled and admitted, embarrassed, "I kind of hope so. I do like Day a lot, you know."
"I know. I can tell. And it's clear he likes you a lot too."
She unbuckled and then leaned over and gave him a short, careful hug. She was warm and soft and smelled like flowers. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he forced them down quickly.
"You're a good kid, Alex. Don't ever let anyone convince you otherwise."
"Okay," he said, and it only came out sort of choked. "Bye Ms. Rosie."
It was a quick dash through the rain, and then he was under the porch overhang and out of the pelting cold. He gave himself a quick shake, like a dog, and then rang the doorbell twice. Not three seconds later the door was thrown wide open and James was there, grinning broadly.
"Alex! You're here! You-" And then his grin faltered. "You've… Alex, what happened? Your face—"
Oh. He'd forgotten about the sharp little cuts shattered across his skin.
"Shaving accident," he said, straightfaced, and James only stared back at him. "Okay never mind. Can I come in?"
Behind him, Rosemary's car finally pulled out from the driveway. He threw a wave at her, and thought he saw her wave back through the rain.
"Oh, shit, yeah, of course," James held the door open wide for his friend, eying the rest of him. "Those aren't your clothes, are they? Who was that who dropped you off? Never mind, just put your shoes and stuff there— there's a good lad. My parents are out on a date, we've got the house to ourselves until pretty late." He led the way to the living room and collapsed on the couch, gesturing impatiently at the spot next to him. "Sit down and tell me why the hell you look like you had a fistfight with Edward Scissorhands and then stole his clothes."
"That's kind of extreme."
"You're wearing a Five Finger Death Punch hoodie. Do you even know who they are?"
"Yeah, they sang Stairway to Heaven, right?"
Jame's mouth dropped open in horror, and Alex smothered a grin.
"I'm just kidding. Anyway, it's—" He hesitated briefly, but pushed on. "Well, it's actually, er, Day's sweater."
"Day? Day Webster? The guy you have the ultra embarrassing crush on?" Now he was looking gobsmacked. "Why are you wearing his clothes?"
"Well…" His hesitation lasted longer this time, and James must have been able to tell they were entering more serious territory, because he straightened and leaned forward, a frown on his face.
"You don't have to tell me—"
"No, it's just— Alil and I got into it last night. It wasn't pretty, and I basically ran out on him at like midnight."
"Oh God. So Alil did that to your face?"
"Yeah. He also… Well, I'd like for you to know that I thought of you before I thought of Day—"
"Good," James said fiercely. "You know I would have let you come over, any time of the night. You know that, right?"
"I know. It's just…" Alex debated for one final moment, before sighing and pushing up the sleeve of Day's hoodie, baring the plastic coated bandage on his arm. "I needed a couple of stitches. And I wasn't sure you had the ability, and Day did help me with my hand, so…"
"Jesus fucking Christ," James said quietly. "How many stitches?"
"Eight."
"Jesus fucking Christ," he repeated.
Alex shrugged and let his sleeve fall back down. "It's okay James. Really. He's already apologized for it."
"But… What happened? Can I ask?"
"He just threw something at me. I provoked him, like, I really provoked him. And before you say anything about it, Day's mother has already made a huge deal about Alil throwing stuff at me, so you don't even need to say anything, okay?"
"Day's mother?"
"Yeah. Honestly, it was a crazy night. But she's nice. Like, really, nice, and she's okay with—" He stopped abruptly.
"What? What is it?" James said anxiously. "Alex, what?"
"James. I've got to tell you something."
"Okay?" James swallowed hard. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."
"No, it's not bad, it's just. James." He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face, even though he knew he probably looked half mad. "James, I think we're dating."
"What? Who? Wait, you and Day?" And now James was gaping at him like he'd just broken down in tongues. "You and Day are dating? Alex, literally what happened yesterday, I thought you said he was straight?"
Alex quickly gave his friend a brief rundown on the short conversation he had with Day the night before, James' eyes growing wider and wider the more he spoke.
"Holy shit," James said finally, when Alex was finished. "Like damn, Alex. But I want to say I told you the hand rubbing thing wasn't straight."
"I know."
"Like, I told you."
"I know. And in the future I'll listen to you in your profound knowledge of all things heterosexual."
"Good. Jesus. Your life is literally insane, how could all of that have happened in one night?"
And that wasn't even all that had happened. Shit.
"Before we continue, you want a coke or something?" James stood. "I think we need snacks. My brain is like, fried."
"A coke would be good."
James zipped off to the kitchen and Alex leaned back on the couch, listening to the heavy rain thundering against the roof.
He always liked James' house. Out of all his friends, James probably had the most stable, the most normal home life. Two loving parents, his father worked for an automobile company, his mother was a stay at home mum. They had a healthy relationship, and they loved their son, and their house was large and tidy, without feeling empty.
He liked James too. He really was discreet with information. He never shared secrets with others, he tried not to make a big deal out of things, and he never pried. He wasn't Tom, but he was a good friend. A great friend, really. And he was closer to James than he was to Day, wasn't he?
James came back and dropped a huge armful of snacks on the coffee table and then handed him a coke. "Grab some of the crisps, Alex, please. They've been in the house for ages, and I just can't eat them all by myself. You want to watch a movie or something?"
"Maybe in a bit. There was actually… Well." He bit his lip. "I was wondering if maybe you would be okay if I told you about something else that happened last night."
"Oh," James blinked at him, startled. "Of course."
"It's kind of heavy," Alex warned.
"That's okay, Alex. Just… Are you sure? We don't usually… I mean…"
"We don't usually talk about heavy things," Alex finished. "We don't have to—"
"No! Alex, that's not what I meant. More just…" James twisted his fingers in his lap, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. "When you came back to school after that first really long absence, right after your uncle died, I asked you about all the bruises on your face and you said you didn't want to talk about it. And I didn't press because I wanted to respect your privacy and your wishes."
"And thank you for that."
"Right. But now… I just… I hope that it didn't come off wrong. Because I don't want you to think that I haven't been asking you about your life because I don't want to hear it, or because I don't care about you. That's not true at all. And I'm really really sorry if I haven't been there for you when you needed me to be."
He swallowed hard, compassion and gratitude welling up inside him like a wave. "Oh James, you've been perfect. You've been a friend that I can go to whenever I just need to chill, when I need my mind taken off of things. You've done nothing wrong."
"Okay. Good. That's really good." He popped open a bag of crisps and settled himself comfortably back into the couch. "If you're sure, then yeah, Alex go ahead. I won't judge you or think any differently no matter what you say."
"And I'd prefer if you didn't try to, like, psychoanalyze me or anything."
"I got a C in Psych last year, no worries there."
Alex grinned a half grin and then, quietly, carefully, explained about what happened with Rosemary. How he'd woken up from his nightmare, how he thought she'd taken his clothes off. How she hadn't, in the end, but he only found that out after he'd had a total breakdown in her kitchen. How he was always so scared and afraid of people and the things they might do to him and his unconscious body.
James had stopped eating his crisps, and the more Alex spoke, the more tensed he became.
Alex finished and looked at James uncertainly. "I'm sorry. Was that too much?"
"No. No," James ran a shaky hand through his hair, depositing a few crumbs in his locks. "Sorry. It's just...How could foster care have failed you so badly? I mean Jesus. You really didn't deserve any of that."
"Thanks."
"I'm serious Alex. It's total shit and I'm sorry you've got all this stuff to worry about. Most people don't. It's not fair."
"Yeah. It's not great. And I think… Well, I'm afraid that it's going to mess things up with Day. I mean, he said he'd be patient with me, but there's a lot I don't know if I'll be able to handle."
"Like what?"
"Like... Well, I don't know. But that's kind of the problem. I didn't know that I had such problems with the whole non-consensual stripping thing. There's probably a lot more."
"Maybe," James admitted carefully. "But you've got some time before you guys become more intimate, right? So there's still time to figure out what these problems might be so you're ready for the future."
"I guess that's true…"
"It is," he said firmly. "It'll be okay Alex, really. Your first step is to convince yourself of that and that alone. Things'll go from there."
"I thought you said you weren't going to psychoanalyze me?"
"This is more like cognitive behavioural therapy than psychoanalyzing. What? Just because I got a C doesn't mean some things didn't stick with me."
Alex huffed out a small laugh and grabbed a bag of crisps. "You're so weird."
And then their conversation broke down into taunts and teasing insults, and it was only after Alex laughed so hard he cried at one of James' come-backs that James approved it was time for a movie.
They ended up watching Alien, which Alex had never seen before. James popped popcorn, much of which wound up on the floor, and they both worked steadily through the huge pile of snacks on the coffee table.
"I can't believe we ate them all," James groaned when the credits finally began to roll, pushing the empty Oreo packet away with his foot. "God, I'm going to explode."
"Don't," Alex advised, although he himself was feeling rather queasy from the amount of M&Ms he'd poured down his mouth, and his teeth were aching from the sugar.
They had a bathroom break and reconvened on the couch again, James laying sprawled out with his feet on the table, Alex with his legs slung over the side of the couch's arm, torso twisted so he was upright.
"That movie slaps," James said. "I'm so in love with Ripley. Alien 2 is pretty good as well."
"Never seen it either."
"We'll have to watch it next time then."
There was comfortable silence for a moment, as they both sat and listened to the rain. It was still storming heavily outside. The movie had been lit up by intermittent flashes of lightning and the booming cracks of thunder, but luckily, the power had held.
"Hey Alex?" James said.
"Yeah?"
"You're going to be okay, right?" He glanced over at his friend, to see him staring back at him, blue eyes fixed on the Ariel band-aid on Alex's chin. "With Alil, I mean."
"Yeah," he replied. "Yeah, I'll be fine, James. Alil is just going through something right now. But it'll be over soon."
"You sure?"
"Pretty sure. I'm honestly less worried about him than about things with Day."
"Oh?"
"Yeah," he repeated, biting at his lip. "I just... really don't have any idea what I'm doing. I mean, just in general. He's way more experienced than me. He's dated more, he's kissed people, and he's been with a boy before. I know he has."
Privately, this was his biggest worry. What if he didn't measure up to the guys Day dated in the past? What if he wasn't good at being gay? What if he wasn't gay enough? He didn't even know what that meant, but the thought still worried him.
"Hey, at least, you know, blank slate, right? You won't have to worry about how different it is from being with a girl, because you've never been with any girl."
"Yeah, that makes me feel loads better," Alex said grumpily. "And anyway, kissing's the same, right?"
James shrugged. "I dunno. You should ask Jerry when he gets back. Speaking of, have you told Tom what happened? With Alil and with Day?"
"No, neither. I didn't want to worry him with Alil, and I think he'll want to hear the Day stuff in person."
"You need to tell him about Alil."
"No." He shook his head resolutely. "No no. I'm going to wait until he gets back home first. I already disrupt their life enough as it is."
"No you don't. They love to have you around. And I know for a fact that Tom would want to know right away if something happened and you were hurt."
"But there's nothing he can do about it. I'll tell him eventually, but what's the point of calling them when they're driving down? What are they going to do, drive faster? That's unsafe."
"Alex—"
"I'm serious. I'm not going to hide this from him or anything, but he deserves to have a little pure relaxation without me bringing any drama into his life."
Jamest must have seen something in his face, because after looking at him for a long moment, he sighed, and said, "I'm not going to change your mind?"
"No."
"He's going to be upset with you," he warned.
Alex shrugged. James sighed again.
"You're very stubborn."
"I've been told."
"Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."
"I'm sure you'll remind me."
"Oh you know I will." He wriggled back further into the couch and fished out a packet of Cheez-Its from between the cushions. He tore it open and said, "Let's move back to Day-related talks."
"Do we have to?"
"We really do. Have you taken my advice yet? You know, about—"
He wiggled his eyebrows cartoonishly and Alex glowered back in disgust. "No you lecher. I've been busy doing literally anything but that."
"Oh, come on, don't be like that. You're 16! Now's the time to be thinking about these things. You're young, nubile—"
"Don't ever say that word to me again—"
"And hey, maybe this would actually be a great way for you to think about things that might come up between you and Day? You know?"
Alex stared at him. "That's so bloody manipulative. What the hell."
"But also maybe true?"
"But…" Alex sighed. "But also maybe true, yeah. God. Fine. Hit me with something?"
"You know that's one of them," James confided happily, looking delighted at the direction the conversation had taken. "Getting hit. Or, like, spanked."
"Oh god."
"Hey, don't be judgemental, man," James said. "As long as it's consensual, there's nothing wrong with trying things out!"
Alex groaned again, utterly humiliated. "Don't make me feel bad about this."
"Just answer. Yes or no?"
"Ugh— fine. Fine." He barely had to think about it. "Probably not."
James looked disappointed. "That was fast."
"Bad experiences. Being hit, I mean. So, um."
James froze like a deer in headlights. "Oh. Shit. I'm sorry Alex. I didn't even think—"
"No, it's fine, okay? Stop. Don't do that, I was the one who asked. Just… I also probably wouldn't like, you know, getting tied up or anything, and I know choking is a thing but I don't think I'd ever be down for that either. So there, see?" He smiled as positively as he could in the face of James' guilt. "This conversation was already useful."
"I feel like such a knob."
"Don't, I'm serious. Look, ask me another."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Just ask."
"Okay…" James hesitated for a moment and then questioned, "Crossdressing?"
"Okay, wasn't expecting that one— um… Also probably not? Although I'm sure he'd look very nice in a dress."
"You'd look awesome in a skirt," James said, gaining back some of his enthusiasm. "No homo, of course."
"Of course."
"Exhibitionism?"
"No." He said immediately, a bright and clear picture suddenly surfacing in his mind of him tumbling out of the trunk of a car, armed men all around, listening to the wild beating of his heart, watching from every angle the terror and humiliation of his fear being broadcast to everyone. Oh. "And that was a good question, I guess," he said, nonplussed. "Because that thought actually brought stuff up that I hadn't considered before."
"Right," James said, side-eying him. "Well, good then."
"Yeah…" His mind wandered. "Can I ask you something else? Something not related to this at all. Still about Day though, I mean."
"Of course," James said immediately, and Alex didn't miss the palpable relief at the subject change. "Yes, go ahead."
"Just...You've been with girls who were a bit less experienced, right?"
"Sure. Why do you ask?"
"Um, just—" He squirmed awkwardly. "I mean, it wasn't bad for you or anything, was it?"
"I mean, the kissing was a little less fun at first, and er, a couple of the other activities, but honestly no, it's never really a problem."
"Oh."
James eyed him appraisingly, eyes gleaming. "You worried, then?"
"A bit. I mean, we've both acknowledged that I don't have any experience and that he does, so it won't be some horrible surprise for him, at least."
"You'll learn quickly, don't even worry about it."
"He said that too. Also that he'd, you know, teach me."
"Awww," James cooed as Alex blushed. "That's both cute and toootally hot. And good for Day for not rushing into all the handsy shit. Loads of people do."
"Right." And here they were coming to the crux of the matter, one of the deepest worries he had. "About that. Um."
"You still not sure how you feel about sexual stuff?"
"Well that too. But it's really more— I mean—" He nibbled his bottom lip, feeling hot and embarrassed. "I'm kind of... ugly."
James looked at him with such astonishment that he couldn't help crack a small smile.
"Alex, you're not ugly," James stressed. "You've got to know that."
"My face isn't," he corrected. "The rest of me though… It isn't good."
"You're like, mad fit though."
"Yes. But I'm also covered in scars."
"Oh." James cringed awkwardly. "Right. Well," he rallied. "Chicks dig scars, don't they? I'm sure it's much the same for gay blokes."
"These aren't, like, 'sexy' scars though. They're bumpy and red and gross looking. And there's a lot."
"I'm sure that's not true—"
"I'm literally a burn victim, James. Those definitely aren't 'sexy' and you know it."
James' eyes widened and he squeaked out, "Burn victim?"
Alex sighed heavily and picked at a loose thread on Day's sleeve. "Yeah. All over my back. It's what Rosemary saw, why I thought she'd— you know. And I'm not saying I necessarily want to take my shirt off with Day, or that's what he wants…. But maybe it is? Or it will be? What then?"
"Then I guess… you just show him? He's a nice guy. He wouldn't like, gasp in horror or anything."
"He might," Alex said darkly. "And anyway, even if he doesn't say anything, he'll still be thinking it."
"Well…" James bit his lip. "I mean, I've hooked up with girls I didn't necessarily find super physically attractive and we still had a great time."
"It's not just being not attractive though, it's being genuinely stomach turning."
"Okay, I don't know if this is the right advice, but maybe just do everything face to face? There are loads of positions you can try without showing him your back."
"Maybe," Alex murmured, contemplating, before the reality of James' words slammed into him and he blushed bright red. "Hey! I'm not talking about— about sex just yet—"
"I know, I know. Still, just saying!"
Alex huffed and continued picking at the loose thread. "It's not just on my back though," he eventually continued. "I mean, I've got scars everywhere. And some of them are just… disconcerting."
"What do you mean?"
He scooted a little closer to James, pushed up a sleeve a little, and then held out his hand. James took it, confused. "What am I looking at?"
"Wrist."
James held his hand up to his face and examined his wrist critically. It only took a few moments for his eyes to blow wide in alarm. "Um, Alex? What the hell is this?"
He gently tugged his hand back to his side and scrubbed at the thin white marks cut into his wrist like lines on a record. "They're from handcuffs. There was this one lady who chained me up to a chair and beat the absolute shit out of me."
"Jesus, what?"
"Yeah. And it was obviously super painful and frightening and I kind of thrashed around a bit trying to escape. And the handcuffs…"
"Oh my god. That's horrible."
"And difficult to explain."
"Well… you explained to me just fine. I mean, hearing it is horrific and super fucked up, but—"
"But I don't want to have to explain everything. Like, this mark on my neck? Here? It's kind of hard to see, but it's not invisible. I got it from another time I was tied to a chair. The man had knives and he was threatening to cut me up, and he threw one of them at me and nicked my neck. That's— God. How can I be expected to explain stuff like that? Just over and over? There's so much on this body, James. It's just so, so—" His face screwed up in disgust.
James interrupted him before he could continue. "Alex, stop. Don't, okay, stop. You're fit and you've got a killer jawline and you're sexy as hell. And if you don't want to explain anything to Day then you don't have to. You never have to tell anyone anything you don't want to, and if he can't accept that, then he can fuck off."
"But if we're going to be dating, how can I not? He's supposed to be able to trust me, but if I don't even trust him enough to tell him things about me, then how can I expect to have any sort of relationship? It's not fair for him."
"Jesus. I don't know. I don't know, Alex. You like me enough to tell me about it though, right? The whole goal is to eventually like Day enough that you'll feel that way about him too. So, you'll hopefully reach a point where you want to talk to him about it, right?"
"Maybe... I did tell him yesterday about how I saw my old foster father commit suicide. So that's a good first step, I guess."
He stared down at his wrists. That was the goal, now. Being open and honest with other people, and not blowing up at them. And he'd wanted to tell Day about Sarov. And telling him had made him feel better. So maybe James was right. God, he hoped James was right. Because there were some marks on his body he didn't ever want to explain, some stories he hoped would never see the light of Day. But…
He also didn't want to lose Day. Not even as a friend.
So he hoped James was right. He really did.
"Thanks," he said, finally looking up. "You're a good friend, James."
"Am I?" James responded. His fists were clenched in his lap like bludgeons and his lip was curled up in self-disgust. "I can't believe I missed these things happening to you. I'm your friend, and apparently you've had some fucking scum of the earth throwing knives at you, and I never did anything to stop that. I'm so bloody sorry."
"You couldn't have done anything."
"And what about now? With Alil?"
"Don't," he said tightly. "James, do not."
"He could have killed you if he'd hit your head with whatever stupid thing he threw."
"But he didn't. And I'll never let him throw anything at me again."
"You can't just stop him—"
"Can't I?" He smiled coldly. Grimly. "You think these people who hurt me just got away with it? You think anything good happened to them?"
James stared. He looked thrown. Unsettled. "What?"
"I've hardened a bit. I don't want you to be afraid of me, James, because I've never hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. Never outside of self-defense. But I need you to trust me when I say I can take care of myself. Alil caught me off guard, but it won't happen again."
James stared at him some more. His eyes were wide. They darted down to his wrist again— no, down to his hand. The bruised and cracked knuckles. Stared. Dragged back up. "Shit," he said finally. "Well. I reckon you probably can take care of yourself just fine, can't you?"
"Yeah. I can."
James sighed and continued, "But you also don't have to. Right? You ever need anything, or want some help or advice— about anything— you can come to me. I'll be there for you. I promise, Alex."
"I know. I believe you."
It was strange, how many people were offering him their support. Just openly and freely, without expecting anything in return. There had once been a time in his life where he would never be able to get anything without offering something up back, some little piece of himself.
He liked life better now, to be totally and completely honest.
"How's Alil going to take your return?" James asked, unknowingly echoing Rosemary's same question. "I mean, he's not going to try anything, will he?"
"No, he won't. He feels guilty about it all. It's going to be fine."
It was. It was going to be totally fine.
Everything was going to be okay.
Everything is going to be okay, everything is going to be okay.
He chanted it to himself rhythmically as he hesitated on the doorstep of his own house. He'd said goodbye to James that day, after spending a gossip filled night on the floor in his room in a sleeping bag. When their heavy conversations had died down, they'd turned back to lighter topics, and Alex went to sleep with a smile on his face and gratitude in his chest.
And now here he was, key in hand, his chest emptied of everything but that same tight fear he always held inside him.
To hell with it, he thought. It was his house. He slotted his key in the door and pushed it open—
And immediately stumbled over Alil's prone body.
"Fuck!" Alil sat up abruptly, squinting blearily at him in the low light.
"Um?" Alex gaped down at him. "Alil? What are you doing?"
"Waiting for you." Alil heaved himself up, although he swayed as if a light breeze would knock him over. His eyes were bright red and bloodshot and he was wearing the same clothes he'd had on the last time Alex had seen him. His chin was unshaven and prickly and there were sweat stains under his arms.
"Maybe you should sit down…"
"No!" Alil objected loudly. He stumbled a few steps back. "No no! Look, come in. Please. Can we talk?"
"Is there really anything more to be said?" Alex asked, kicking the front door shut and crossing his arms over his chest. It looked defensive. He knew that. But he still couldn't stop. His fingers dug tightly into his biceps and the pressure grounded him.
Alil's eyes glued onto his arms, guilt creasing his strong eyebrows. "I hurt you. We need to talk about that."
"Oh my god," Alex groaned out and pushed past Alil to the living room.
The broken glass had been cleaned up. In fact, he realized, looking around, everything had been cleaned up. The couch was neat, the cushions plumped. The TV had been dusted and the coffee table shone as if it had been polished. Maybe it had.
He sat, dumbfounded, in the armchair. The carpet under his feet had been vacuumed. What the hell?
Alil perched nervously on the edge of the sofa. His blood-shot eyes were scrunched up and unhappy and he was visibly fidgeting. It was a strange disposition to see him wear.
Alex gestured at him impatiently and he let out an uneven breath and squarely met Alex's eyes.
"I'm sorry."
Alex said nothing.
"I should never ever have thrown anything at you. That was so fucking— Jesus. So fucking stupid. You made me so fucking mad and it just came over me." He ground a knuckle into his eye, looking like he was choking down a bucket of worms. "I was an idiot. I shouldn't have done that."
"You really shouldn't have." Alex grimaced. "And I'm not saying you were right to throw anything at me, but… I'm sorry too."
Alil pulled his hand away from his face and looked at him. "You're sorry for what you said." It was more of a statement than a question.
"Of course I am," Alex huffed. "I shouldn't have let my anger get away from me. This is on me too."
"A little, yeah, but I'm the one who who gashed your face and arm open, insulted you for crying about your parents in your sleep—"
"We really don't have to get into that again," Alex interrupted. And normally he would have felt the stirrings of anger at the reminder of what Alil had said to him, but at the moment, all he felt was bone deep exhaustion. "And for the record, I've never in my life cried about my parents."
Alil frowned. "But if—"
"Let me just say this," Alex cut in again, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "Because you seem to be under some mistaken assumptions and I don't like them anymore. My parents were killed when I was one year old and I have absolutely no memories of them. They do not factor into this equation anywhere—" He gestured between them. "And they do not have any bearing on what's going on with either of us. If you're going to insult me about something, you're going to have to pick something else."
"I— fuck— they're dead?" And now Alil was looking really guilty. "Oh I am a total fucking arsehole, aren't I?"
"Kind of," Alex agreed carelessly. "But you know, it is worse that you said all that when you were still thinking they'd died recently. That's what's really shitty."
"Fuck."
"But" he continued. "I was also incredibly cruel to you about your own murdered family, so we might be able to call ourselves even on that if you want."
Alil blinked over at him, eyes wide and glassy, brow furrowing, and a familiar wave of guilt rushed over Alex.
"I shouldn't have said all that about Ethan," he told Alil soberly. "That was really shitty of me. There's no excuse for what I said to you. I'm sorry."
"...You were trying to tell me that. You made me food. Didn't even burn it," Alil added with a grimacing grin.
Alex winced, but smiled a small, reluctant smile back. "I was trying."
"And then I exploded on you like a little prick. Damn."
"Our communication thus far hasn't been exemplary," Alex agreed.
"Fuck," Alil repeated. He ran a frustrated hand through his outgrown buzzcut. "Well this is all just bullshit, isn't it? You really good to move on? Just like that?"
"Yes." He considered. "Well actually, not just like that."
He moved to the couch and crouched down. It only took a few seconds of groping around before his hand closed around what he was looking for. He withdrew the pistol and stood.
Alil immediately tensed and jumped to his feet. "Rider—!"
"Relax." He popped the magazine out with a frown. "You keep this loaded? You don't do that."
"What the hell—"
Alex ignored him and strode to the kitchen, irritation flaring. Alil followed behind.
"Rider, give me that, it's dangerous—"
"I'm certainly aware." The kitchen was as strangely clean as the living room, and he pushed a chair aside for clear access to the table. "Are you? At least the bloody safety's engaged, god."
He usually preferred a smaller gun to compensate for his smaller hands, but the gun Alil had was a thing of heavy, steel and nylon-based beauty. His irritation grew as he locked the slide and checked the chamber. Bloody hell. He field-stripped the pistol with methodical efficiency, lips pressed together.
"You've never once cleaned this thing, have you?" Alex asked, frustrated, when all the springs and bits and pieces were laid out on the table.
"I only fired it on two occassions," Alil said. He was staring at Alex as if he'd never seen him before. He looked down at the parts on the table and then back up at Alex. "How the hell do you know how to do that?"
"Not the issue," Alex said, picking up the magazine and sliding the bullets out one by one. "What is, is that I don't want you to have easy access to this gun anymore."
Alil's temper flared. "Excuse me?"
"It's not that I think you'll use it on me. I would just rather be safe than sorry."
"You think I'd shoot you?"
"Like I said. Rather safe than sorry." He swept all the pieces into the junk drawer beside the oven. "I'm only telling you about this because it would be bad if you went for it and found it missing in a time of need."
Alil stared some more.
"In case of an attack," Alex elaborated impatiently. "By someone other than me, obviously." He still had no idea what Jones had told Alil. What- or who- she'd warned him of.
"You can't do this," Alil said and Alex smiled grimly.
"I just did."
"No." Alil shook his head, his defiance flaring. "No. My orders are to keep a pistol in the house at all times—"
"The pistol is in the house." He pointed at the drawer.
"Not like that," Alil snapped. "Don't be difficult. There are certain specifications required of me by Director Jones herself, and I won't let her down—"
"You already have."
Alil turned white. "Excuse me?"
"Let me hazard a guess on the specifications," Alex said coolly, ticking them off on his fingers. "Keep a close eye on me. Keep me safe. Don't let me slide too far into emotional instability. Well guess what Espinoza, on Friday night you failed all of those. If you really want to fulfill your duty to Jones, then you need to let it go with the gun."
There was a moment of swelling silence in the kitchen, the air thick with tension. Alex and Alil glared at each other, the table between them.
Finally, Alil spoke. "What if I need the gun?"
"If you haven't needed it by now, you probably never will."
More silence.
"What is wrong with you?" Alil asked, and now he just sounded bewildered and confused. "I don't understand."
"You're not meant to."
The older man leaned his hip against the table, looking suddenly exhausted. "This is just…" He pinched the bridge of his crooked nose. "Rider. I'm serious. What is wrong with you? Why do I need to watch you? With a pistol around? Why do you know how to field-strip it like a professional? Why— you said your parents were killed, and you insinuated they were murdered. But if I'm not here because of them, then why? I don't understand."
Alex didn't reply, just watched him.
"Jesus. Fine." Alil pushed away from the table, hands thrown up in irritation. "Fine! I'll leave the pistol as it is. But if you're murdered in your bed because I wasn't prepared, then that's on you!"
"It wouldn't happen in my bed—"
"I don't care! That's not the point! Just… God. I'm going to go take a shower. Good talk or whatever."
"Good talk." He watched as Alil stomped off.
Well.
That could have gone worse, he supposed. It also could have gone better, but he was in an optimistic mood.
He snagged a yogurt from the refrigerator— Alil had also gone shopping— and trooped upstairs, ignoring the light from under Ian's old room, and the sullen mutterings that drifted down the hallway. He threw himself down onto his bed with a groan and stared up at the ceiling.
Why was everything so complicated all the time?
Before he could get too sodden down by his thoughts, he pulled out his phone and opened his messages with Day.
ME: Made it back okay. Things with Alil went well. No problems
Day texted back immediately.
DAY: Good! I'm so glad to hear that.
A picture of Molly, laying sprawled on the floor in front of the couch, came through, and Alex smiled.
ME: Give her a scratch behind the ears for me.
DAY: Done. And how did things go with the gun? Have you taken that away yet?
ME: Yeah. I took it apart and put the pieces in a drawer in the kitchen.
There was a long pause then, the three little dots on his screen blinking up at him for a minute or two. Finally, Day answered.
DAY: Was Alil upset about that?
ME: He understood.
Then Alex sighed. As much as he enjoyed talking to Day, he couldn't put too much time into it, right then. There was one last thing he needed to do before it got too late.
ME: I think I need to call Tom now.
DAY: Probably lol. Good luck Alex. I'll see you tomorrow, okay? :)
ME: See you tomorrow. :)
It was weird. He'd never used smiley faces before in text messages, except to get a particularly sarcastic point across to Tom or James. But in that moment, he wanted to add in 20 of them. Day was really bad for his carefully cultivated cool exterior.
Tom would have a lot of things to say to him, he was sure, not only on the Alil front, but the Day one as well. And as much as he was dreading explaining what happened with Alil, he was looking forward to falling into Tom's classic delight about his new… boyfriend? Maybe not boyfriend just yet, but it had been acknowledged that they were something. Tom would know if there was a word for it.
He tapped on Tom's number and waited for him to pick up. It had been a long weekend.
A/N: So my grandparents have COVID! It's very scary. I've been really stressed out about it because they're both in a pretty bad way which is why this chapter took a lot longer to write than I had planned. Hopefully they'll get better soon but I don't know. They're really not doing too well. Fingers crossed for them and also for me! I was tested a few days ago and I have been feeling sick, but man I hope it's just like a normal sickness lol. It's an understatement but it's all totally wack! I'll try my best to keep writing though! I don't think I'll be too thrown off, unless my grandparents die, and I'm just avoiding thinking about that lol. 2020 is the year of Big Yikes
Guest #1, this comment made me clutch my heart in pure happiness lol! Thank you so much!
Guest #2, THANK YOU! I'm glad you think so! And I'm excited to write cute Day/Alex fluff in the future lol, so that's some of where it's probably going to go lol :D
Em0Wolf, I'm glad you like them together! :D More cutesy stuff ahead lol
LoveRider, yayy I'm glad you think so! Thank you!
Guest #3, thank you so much! :) :)
Guest #4, thank you for the comment! It got me writing lol
Guest #5, haha, thank you for the comment, this was such a nice and relaxed way to prompt more writing lol
Forgot my password, I really appreciate this review! I had no idea about usage of sp*z in that way, I went back and changed where I used it in Chapter 8 and will keep that out of my vocabulary from now on. Again, thanks for letting me know, I don't want to keep stuff like that in my writing at all. And lol, most of my schooling happened in America, and I've never been to the UK so I'm just making it all up as I go along haha. There will definitely be a strong return of the nosy characters, particularly Martinique who is not finished yet. I'm excited about where she's heading in the story :)