Authors Note: I'm going to say it again: These characters don't belong to me, I'm only borrowing them. This is also slash (i.e m/m contact) and contains strong language.

It is taking me ages to write this. I've been working two jobs all Christmas, and now I'm supposed to be studying for exams. Hmmmm. I spent the best part of the day re-writing this.

Thankyou to those people who have reviewed – I really appreciate it. Please tell me how you like the way this is going.

Oh, and one last thing – the idea for this story came from a challenge on Courtney's required reading page. So, thanks go to Jonathan.

This is dedicated to Andrew. Who still doesn't know. Or who probably does, but is declining to mention it.

Feels Like Home : Part Four : Thursday

Scout wasn't concentrating on the customers that Thursday evening. All he could think about was the returned paper in his bag, the one with the attached sheet that read 'This piece is not worthy of marking – Fail' in Finn's spiky handwriting. He'd slipped it inside his Biology notes in the hope that it could be forgotten; at least ignored for a while. No such luck. The words bore out at him, the meaning indelibly stamped on his mind. Finn had kept him back after class, moving him forward to the front of the classroom. "I understand that you are under a lot of pressure at the moment, Scout," he'd begun, his eyes never leaving Scout's face. Scout had squirmed under the unblinking gaze. "I know you that you have things you need to work through," Scout's head had shot up at that. Did he know? Did he realise all about Sean…? But his eyes were dark, and gave away nothing. He was merely aware, as always, that his student's mind was on something other than his work. He'd offered assistance, an 'always open door'. Scout had shrivelled under the patient gaze of his teacher, and made his excuses. "You can't keep letting your work suffer this way, Calhoun," Finn had finished by saying, "You are perilously close to failing the semester already, and you need to get your mind back on the work."

Chance would be a fine thing.

Scout took aim, and lobbed the cloth into the sink behind the counter. He'd just finished wiping the tables down, and he was tired. He took a perch on one of the tall stools by the cash register, and glanced down at his watch. Only twenty minutes before closing, and no customers. An easy ride. Without even thinking about it, his gaze slipped through the café and across the road, willing Bella to be there. If she was, this whole nightmare might have been avoided. Bella would never have dumped Sean if things had stayed the same and she'd stayed with her dad in the garage.

Wishful thinking.

Kissing Sean may have been the straw that broke the camel's back. It may have opened a whole can of worms that Scout didn't want to deal with right now… for a second, Scout was overwhelmed by memories of the fierce touch of muscle to muscle, the feeling of the other boy's tough fingers in his hair, raking his skin… his musky smell. Scout took a deep breath, longing to feel the other boy close again. Why had he ever risked it all?

No. It wasn't the kisses that had Scout in a whirl. It was the absence. Missing Sean was a whole different ball game.

When had things changed, he wondered haphazardly, his mind still enjoying the pleasures of a good memory. When was it that Sean had slipped into his subconscious and taken root? Why did it feel like a whole part of his life was missing now? Arguments and disagreements over Bella had left him tired, emotional and most unfairly put-upon, but never before had he been left both mentally and physically exhausted, with the vague feeling that there was some sort of world continuing outside the confines of his tired mind. And nothing had ever really hurt this much before, either. Desperate to overcome it, he pulled the latest English text out of his bag, determined to make a start on work again. He couldn't fail.

*

Sean was half way through his second box set when his mother finally flipped.

"SEAN! Will you turn that goddamn Buffy nonsense off and do something else??" She'd flung his jacket at him in despair, the constant sound of kicking butt and the sound of desolate-but-witty-teenage-angst-despite- perils-of-the-undead finally having caused her to hit boiling point.

"Mom…" he'd whined, more reminiscent of his younger brother than himself. His Mom raised an eyebrow and flicked the wet tea towel at him.

"I want you out of this house and doing something constructive for a change, Sean." Relenting a little when she saw his frown, she shrugged, "Why don't you go see what Will is up to?"

"Probably playing croquet and having tea on the lawn," Sean muttered under his breath.

"I heard that, young man."

Sean dulled the TV.

Man, last year had been different. The longer evenings had given him and Will the opportunity to set and re-set high scores on whatever computer game had been the current rage, with Will giving him a running commentary on whichever book he was devouring that day. In between, they'd worked a bit on homework, Will completing his with ease, whilst Sean lagged happily behind. Then in the garage, they'd fiddled around with the old scalextric, building a scale model of Brands Hatch from a plan Will had found on the Internet. Somehow, the idea of racing electric cars by himself didn't hold the same appeal. With a sigh, he dug his hands deep into his pockets, suddenly cold in the fall evening air.

*

Will wasn't working. He wasn't even there.

That was obvious from the moment Sean walked into the empty diner to find Scout slumped at the counter, thumbing a well-read book. He took a very deep breath; he was suddenly feeling like his heart had taken up residence in his throat.

"Hey."

Scout dropped the book like it was on fire. He jumped off the stool, catching his foot on the leg and stumbling into the counter. The stool tumbled to the floor. He rubbed his damp hands on his regulation navy polyester trousers, and felt a blush steal up his face. "Hey," he managed to reply.

Sean couldn't suppress a grin as he moved forward to pick the stool up again, setting it upright. He was right next to the other boy now, close enough to catch a faint whiff of Calvin Klein. "Are you alright?" he asked hesitantly, his fingers grazing Scout's forearm.

Scout struggled not to flinch from the touch, memories of their last meeting assailing him from every angle. His eyes scanned Sean's face wildly, desperately seeking some kind of assurance. "Look…" he said finally, the blush sneaking further up his pale face, "I'm sorry about what I said…"

Sean, embarrassed by Scout's apparent rejection, sank into one of the booths. "What…?"

Scout was tying and untying his apron, his fingers slippery with nerves, "When I said… you know… about you and Bella and me, and having to choose… and… well, I'm sorry." he finished rather lamely. Glancing around wildly, his eyes came to rest on the cappuccino machine, "Do you want a drink?"

"Coke." Sean watched as Scout moved around the counter, and with shaking fingers filled a glass. "I just needed some time," he explained, mindlessly rocking the saltcellar back and forth, "Some time to… I don't know… try and figure things out." He shot a glance at Scout's back, "You've gotta admit that this whole thing has been a bit… different."

Scout shrugged, depositing the drink in front of him, and sank down on the opposite chair. Different wasn't quite the word he'd use. "No ice," he murmured, as Sean took a cautionary glance down into the dark liquid. For a second, their eyes met, and Sean grinned. Scout couldn't help smiling back, his chestnut hair sliding into his eyes as he did so. It was almost as if the last few days hadn't even happened. "And have you…?" Scout asked finally, a smile still playing on his lips as he pushed his hair back, his eyes never leaving Sean's face.

"Have I what? Figured things out?" Sean nodded. He was entranced by Scout's face, the crinkled smile, floppy hair, his laughing eyes. Dragging his glance away, he let his eyes rest on Scout's fingers. With a tearing breath, he reached across the table and let his fingers graze Scout's.

"I told you before that I wanted to see you again," Scout muttered, with a sharp intake of breath, his fingers intertwining with Sean's. Which fingers were his, and which weren't?

"Is that still true?" Sean stifled a groan as Scout's long fingers teased his palm. He shifted in his seat, leaning closer over the table. Every fibre in his being was aching; he'd never experienced anything remotely similar before, never needed to touch somebody before. He'd never needed anyone before.

Scout closed the gap, his fingers still stroking the other boy's palm as his lips found Sean's. With a ragged breath, he pushed closer, their dry lips pressing desperately against one another. Reluctantly, with the taste of him on his lips, he pulled away, shooting a desultory glance towards the door. "We're still open," he mumbled, his heart jumping.

"Shall I take that as a yes then?" Sean was squeezing Scout's hand as if he couldn't let go, whilst his free hand unconsciously grazed his damp lips. As if catching up with Scout's train of thought, his gaze swung to the door. "Don't worry…" he gripped his hand harder, "there's nobody around. They're all watching the big game tonight."

Scout forced himself to concentrate on what Sean was saying, but tiny frissons of fear were running all over his body. What if somebody had seen them? What if somebody said something?

"There's nobody around, Scout," Sean reiterated, reading the other boy's mind, "Nobody saw us."

"I'm sorry," Scout muttered, "I just freaked out a bit." Still, he didn't try and pull away from Sean's touch. "I don't think I could stay away from you if I tried," he mumbled eventually, too embarrassed to meet Sean's gaze.

"I'm glad to hear that," Sean muttered, ducking his face downwards to try and meet Scout's eyes, "I would have felt really stupid if I was the only one to feel like that."

Shocked, Scout's head shot up. After gazing speechlessly into Sean's dark eyes, he couldn't help the huge smile that spread across his face. "Really?" he managed finally, pulling his hand from Sean's in surprise.

Sean nodded, "Really." Briefly, he touched his hand to Scout's face, "I've never felt this way about anyone before," he admitted quietly, before reluctantly getting to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Scout looked up in alarm.

"Don't worry so much," Sean laughed, and let his fingers grip Scout's once more. "I've got to get home before my Mom worries too much. I've been wandering around for hours."

"Oh." Scout glanced down at their intertwined fingers. "Do you want to…"

"What?" Sean couldn't take his eyes off of their twisting fingers.

"… want to meet up tomorrow?"

Sean's smile lit up his face. They arranged to meet up the following evening, and with one last lingering glance, Sean turned to go.

*

As the door banged shut behind Sean, the person who'd been watching the boys in stunned amazement for the last ten minutes took the opportunity to slip away, pulling a baseball cap further down over their fair hair.