Chapter 38

"Say, dad…" Penguin started in his sweetest tone the next morning, when he came into the kitchen for breakfast.

Law raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you want?"

Shit, wrong tactic. Penguin tried to shrug it off. "Nothing specifically. I was just thinking… maybe you want something…" He put some bread into the toaster and dug into the fridge to check what they had to put on his toast. "Like, I could get out of the house this evening, and you could have Kid over for a couple of hours," he said as innocently as possible.

Law didn't reply, and when Penguin got his head out of the fridge, having decided on cheese, he saw his father look at him with a slightly confused look that seemed like he was trying to figure him out. "I thought you didn't want me to see him anymore?" Law said eventually.

"I don't," Penguin agreed, turning away from him towards the counter, so Law wouldn't see the blush on his face. "But I know you're not gonna let that stop you anyway, so I'd rather make sure I'm not here when he is." God, what was he doing, driving his father further into the arms of Killer's dad? He hated it, but it was his only choice.

"And where would you be going the–" Law paused. "Oh."

Shit.

"Oh, I see what you're doing," Law said, amusement evident in his voice.

Penguin forced himself to turn back around and look his father in the eyes. "What are you talking about? I'm not doing anything."

"You don't want Eustass to be here, you want him out of his own house, so you can go see Killer."

Penguin clenched his teeth together. Why did his father have to be so smart? He just couldn't fool him. So, he tried a more open tactic. "Okay, well, maybe. But it's a good deal, right? You get a few hours alone with Kid, I get a few hours alone with Killer." He cast his eyes down, not being able to remain eye contact when he added, "I know you want to."

Law chuckled, and seemed to consider it for a few seconds, until he spoke again. "Tempting… but no."

Penguin let his head fall to his chest, disappointed. "Why not?"

"Because I know Killer isn't allowed have anyone over right now, and I'm not willingly going against Eustass' parenting techniques," Law explained. "If he thinks Killer deserved his punishment, then that's that."

"You can pretend to not know where I am! You don't have to tell him!" Penguin protested. "Come on, I haven't seen Killer since Friday, and I'll have to wait until Monday to see him at school again."

Law shrugged – he shrugged! Like it was nothing! "You're already halfway."

"I'm only halfway!" Penguin corrected him. "When was the last time you saw his father?"

Law shrugged again. "Thursday. And you don't see me crying."

"Well, I actually like Killer." Penguin pulled the toasts from the toaster and threw them on his plate angrily. "I want to spend time with him."

His father chuckled. "You love him."

Penguin colored red. "That's none of your concern." He placed a slice of cheese on each piece of bread.

"It wasn't a question, Penguin," Law said. "You obviously love him. Did you tell him that already?"

Penguin stared at his toast. Suddenly he remembered the words Killer had spoken again. In the heat of yesterday's video call, he had completely forgotten about it. Killer had not said a word about it either, nor had he said 'I love you' again. Penguin suddenly felt cold. He should have said something about it. He should have told Killer that he loved him back. He had only been thinking with his dick yesterday, shit. But why hadn't Killer said anything? Would that be because he regretted saying those words? Maybe he didn't actually mean them? Or maybe Killer had been thinking only with his dick too.

"I think you should tell him," Law said.

Penguin spun around. "Shut up!" he said a little harsher than he had intended. "You don't know anything! Besides, I can't tell him if I'm not allowed to see him, can I?"

Law raised his eyebrows. "You can tell him when you see him again on Monday. Or when you call him again." He shrugged.

Penguin stared at his father in shock, his face heating up some more. What was Law implying? He couldn't know about their call last night, could he?

"Anyway," Law reached over to his bag and retrieved something from it. "I got you something, forgot to give it to you yesterday."

Penguin took the piece of paper from his father's hand, just glad for the change of subject. He looked at the pamphlet and read the title. 'When to get tested for STDs and how it works.'

"Dad!" he yelled, embarrassed. He crumpled up the paper, picked up his plate, and stormed out of the kitchen. He would eat his breakfast elsewhere.

Killer groaned and pulled at his hair. He was so incredibly bored! It was just past nine AM, his father had been at work for almost two hours, and Killer was on his fifth day of being locked up. He had done everything to entertain himself already in the past four days. He had done all the homework he knew he had, he had played his guitar for hours, read a book, watched some porn, did some exercising, watched some Netflix, but everything bored him already. He couldn't sit still anymore. He missed his friends, and he missed Penguin. He let his head fall against the wall in the living room, resisting the urge to smash it through – purely because he knew the wall would win from his head.

He groaned, and then walked towards the stereo. He picked out one of the older CDs from Redhair, and put it into the CD player, after which he put the volume up loud enough that it drove out every other sound. He let the music take a hold of his body. This was how music was supposed to be; taking over your whole being and driving out every bad thought you had, consuming you completely. It had to be loud for that to happen. Well, at least he felt a little better now.

Killer walked towards the kitchen and opened the fridge to scan its contents. At least he might be able to make himself something nice for lunch, later today. He looked everything over, but was slightly disappointed. There was enough to make himself a nice sandwich, but nothing too fancy. He looked aside to the bowl in which they kept the non-fridge vegetables. Well, they did have a lot of tomatoes… Some onions and garlic as well… Killer decided that he could try to make a tomato soup of some sorts.

He frowned when he heard a thud, which wasn't part of the music. He knew this for sure, because he had listened to this CD for about a hundred times already. Another thud, and he realized it was more of a knock, coming from the window. He turned around towards the sound.

Behind the window, in his backyard, stood Wire and Heat, looking impatiently at him. Killer chuckled, and walked over to open the window.

"We've been knocking for over a minute!" Heat said accusingly, as soon as the window was open. "Are you deaf or something?"

Killer smirked. "Sorry, couldn't hear you over the music." He leaned against the windowsill. "Aren't you supposed to be at school?"

"Yeah, we tried that for an hour," Wire said. "And then we decided we'd much rather come hang with you."

"Naww, you guys are so sweet, skipping school for me," Killer said, slightly mockingly, even though he was actually really happy that they were doing this. He stepped aside. "Well, what are you waiting for, come in."

His friends didn't hesitate and climbed inside through the open window. "Did you decide what to eat yet?" Wire asked teasingly, and Killer realized they must have seen him looking at the fridge and vegetables.

Killer chuckled, but grabbed the remote control to turn down the volume of the music a little, so he could hear his friends better. "I was so bored I decided I could make some tomato soup from scratch."

"Oh, you can do that?" Heat asked, sounding impressed.

Killer shrugged. "It can't be that hard, right?" He had made soup before, and he could just Google a recipe.

"Well, we're not stopping you if you want to make us soup," Wire said, already opening the fridge as if he was at home. Well, he had been here often enough to feel a little at home, at least. Killer saw him eye the crate of beer at the bottom of the fridge and then he looked at Killer. "Meanwhile… let's get wasted."

Killer snorted. "It's still morning."

"Well, we can't see you in the evening…" Heat had closed the window behind him and walked over to the fridge as well. "So, we have to get creative." He took a bottle out of the crate, but then looked expectantly at him, as if he was waiting for permission after all. "Your father wouldn't mind, would he?"

"Of course my father would mind! He would kill me if he even knew you were here right now!" Killer protested. But then he grabbed the bottle from his friend's hand and opened a drawer to get the opener. "But to hell with it. As long as you're gone when he returns, he probably won't even notice a few bottles missing."

It was around four o'clock, when Penguin looked at his phone with a smile. The third video he had posted on TikTok did even a little better than the second! He couldn't say it had gone viral, but it was still doing pretty good. After three days, the video had gotten nearly five thousand views and fifteen hundred likes. His follower count was on 242 already.

Penguin really wanted to post the next video, but at the same time he didn't know when he would be able to film another. It wouldn't be before Monday, most likely, so maybe it would be better if he waited at least one more day before he'd post the last video he currently had.

As he was thinking about this, he received a message from Killer.

'Hey babe,' it said, and Penguin saw him typing some more and the next two messages followed quickly.

'Peng.'

'My little penguin.'

Penguin raised his eyebrows. What? Why did he get a fluttering feeling in his chest when Killer called him that? He wasn't little! And why did Killer call him that? He had never called him that before, and to be honest, he couldn't really imagine Killer saying that out loud either. He answered the last message with a question mark.

'What? You are my little Penguin, aren't you? ❤' was Killer's answer.

'No… I'm not little…' Penguin replied. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what he didn't like about it, nor could he say why he didn't hate it.

'Hmmm agree to disagree,' Killer answered. 'But you are mine, right?'

'I'm my own person,' Penguin replied. He wondered why Killer even asked this question when he knew the answer.

'😢' Was all Killer replied.

'Yes, Killer, I'm yours, why do you even ask?' Penguin sent. What was going on? Killer was acting a little weird. Wait, had someone hacked his Discord account? Was someone trying make Penguin confess he was Killer's boyfriend?

Well… if they were, they had succeeded.

But then Killer replied. 'I'm sorry… I might have had a little bit to drink.'

Penguin blinked.

'A little bit too much.'

Killer was drunk?! Well, that explained something… Penguin looked at the time. What the hell. 'You've been day-drinking by yourself all day?'

'No.'

'Shhh.'

'Heat and Wire were here.'

'Don't tell my dad.'

Penguin felt a little pang of jealousy. His friends did get to see him? He tried not to let Killer know how that actually hurt him a bit. 'Won't your dad notice you're drunk?'

'I'm not drunk! Just a tiny bit tipsy, at most,' Killer answered. 'Oh, he's coming home now. I hope he doesn't notice anything.'

Penguin shook his head. He hoped for Killer's sake that was the case. Still, he couldn't stop thinking about Heat and Wire. 'But didn't your friends have school?' Penguin didn't have a lot of classes together with Heat, and Wire was in the year above them, so he hadn't actually noticed them missing.

'Yeah, they skipped class to see me,' Killer answered. 'You could too.'

'Skip class to see me tomorrow,' he clarified. 'If you want to, of course.'

Penguin stared at the messages. Was Killer serious? Sure, he was drunk, but that didn't mean he wasn't serious… Penguin was thinking it over and over, but Killer didn't send another message, and just seemed to be waiting for his response. So, he probably was serious, right?

Penguin was in doubt. He really wanted to spend tomorrow with Killer, but he had never skipped class in his life before. Wasn't he going to get in trouble for that? Should he try to make up some excuse? Maybe he could pretend to be sick so his father could call school to tell them he wasn't coming? No, then Law would start to fuss and maybe even stay at home to take care of him, and he couldn't go to Killer either.

He could try to get into his father's e-mail account and send an e-mail to school, telling them he was sick… Penguin had no idea if they would accept that, but he could try, right? If school got an e-mail from his father, they would have no reason to doubt he was really sick, would they? Meanwhile, his father would just think he was at school… Yes, that didn't seem like a bad plan. His father had to work the early morning shift the next day anyway, so he wouldn't even be there to notice it if Penguin got onto his laptop before schooltime. He nodded to himself.

'Okay,' he texted back.

'Yes! 😁' was Killer's immediate reply, which made Penguin chuckle lightly. Drunk Killer was kind of cute.

'How late do you want me?' Penguin asked.

'I always want you, at any time,' Killer answered. 'But… my father starts working around 7:30…'

Penguin laughed because of Killer's enthusiasm. 'I wake up at 7:30. But I can be there at 8.'

'We can have breakfast together.'

'I'd like that,' Penguin answered, his heart beating loudly in his chest. He couldn't wait until tomorrow.

Killer stayed in his room for as long as possible, until his father called him down for dinner. Well, when he came down, dinner wasn't completely ready yet, but his father told him to get into the kitchen anyway.

"Did you make soup today?" Kid asked his son, pointing towards the pan he'd used.

"Yeah, I was bored," Killer answered. In his mind he just repeated one thing though: don't let him know you're tipsy, don't let him know you're tipsy. And after that: he cannot find out about Heat and Wire!

"Was it good?" his father asked, sounding slightly surprised.

Killer nodded. "Yeah, I can cookk." Shut your mouth, shut your mouth! Only say the bare minimum, or he'll find out. Killer had to calm himself down. His father wasn't going to find out; he wasn't that drunk, and he didn't say anything weird. Though his words did sound a little heavily pronounced, or did he imagine that?

"I know, just hadn't expected you to do it on your own," Kid shrugged. "You forgot to wash the pan, though."

"Oh," Killer said. "Yeah… I guess I have." God, could his mind stop being so hazy?

Kid looked at him and quirked an eyebrow. "Well, what are you waiting for? You've got two more minutes before dinner is ready. That's enough time to clean it."

"Oh. Yeah, okay," Killer picked up the pan and placed it in the sink. He started cleaning it without saying anything, as that seemed to be the safest option.

But after a minute, he felt Kid's eyes on him. "Everything okay?" his father asked.

"No, of course not," Killer said, but it lacked his usual anger. "You've got me lllocked up here for a week. For for forever!" He quickly shut his mouth again. He heard how the words came out slightly slurred. Shiiiit, pretend everything is normal. "I hate it," he mumbled, somewhat clearly.

Suddenly, his father was standing very close to him, and he grabbed Killer's shoulder to turn him around briskly, so that he would face him. "Killer," Kid said, bringing his face close to his son's, and then seemed to wait for a reaction.

Killer tried to meet his stare head-on, not letting him know anything was off, even if Kid was looking at him questioningly, and his face was only a few inches away. "Yeah," Killer answered as casual as possible.

Kid pulled back with a disgusted, but shocked look on his face. "What the fuck! Have you been drinking?!"

"No!" Killer immediately said.

"Goddammit, Killer, don't lie to me!" Kid turned off the stove angrily. "You reek of alcohol!"

"I… eh… well…" Killer took a few steps back. "Maybe a little… I had to do something to passs the time…" Again, his words didn't come out as clearly as he wanted them. Fuck this shit.

"To pass the time?!" his father was full out yelling now. "Fuck, you sound like you drunk half a crate by yourself, Killer!"

Yes, by himself. Yup, all alone. He had been drinking all on his own. His father better keep believing that. And not notice that indeed half a crate of beer had gone missing. And a bit of hard liquor as well. Killer had made sure to replace some empty bottles from the fridge with some full ones that were stored in the scullery, so it wouldn't immediately stand out, but if Kid knew exactly how many full bottles there were supposed to be…

"You don't drink 'to pass the time'! That's how alcoholism starts," his father continued his lecture. His eyes were shooting fire. "And you're sixteen, for fuck's sake! Just because I let you drink the odd beer at a party, doesn't mean you can get wasted – especially when you're alone and during the day! I won't allow another addict in my house! Dammit, Killer, don't become like your mother!"

"Geez, it's just a few beers, dad!" Killer said, quite shocked by his father's accusation and comparison to his mother. "It's nothing like heroin!"

His father's eyes narrowed. "You know that if you ever use that stuff, you're no longer welcome in this fucking house, right?"

"Yes, geez!" Killer yelled. "Of course I won't do that! I know how much it destroys… Like I said, it's jussa few beers, okay? It won't happen again." The nice buzz he'd felt earlier, wasn't so nice anymore. He was starting to feel a little nauseous.

"It'd better not." His father got a serving spoon out of the drawer, and turned towards the pans again.

"I'm not an alcoholic, I swear, nor am I pelan-planning on becoming one." Fuck, yeah, maybe he had drunk a little too much. "And if I just eat something, I'm sure I'll sober up again."

Kid gave him an angry, but also slightly worried stare, but then he sighed deeply. "Well, just to make sure you won't do it again, I'm giving you some chores to do for the next few days" He got out the plates and started filling them with pasta. "Tomorrow you can clean the living room, and that includes dusting off and vacuuming. Friday you can do the laundry, Saturday, clean up the bathroom, and that includes getting all of your disgusting hair out of the shower drain, and cleaning the toilets. On Sunday… you make sure your own room is tidy and clean, and you can change both our bedsheets. If you want to start on certain tasks earlier, that's fine, later is not."

Killer wanted to protest, but he realized he wasn't really in a position to do so anymore, and it would probably only make his situation worse if he did. Knowing his father, he would probably just think of another chore to do if he complained. At least he would see Penguin tomorrow, so his day couldn't be that bad.

Kid handed him his plate. "Oh, and since you like cooking so much, you're in charge of dinner on all those days as well."

TBC~!