"Eric, I'm an idiot!" Otis sighed into the pillow.
"No you're not. You're just irresistable oat sprinkle!"
Eric smiles and he can finally feel his best friend relax. It's weird having to be the listener for a change. Was he was great friend? He watched Otis lightly claw at his forehead. As he talks about Ola, all the things he's wanted to say and do with her romantically. But Maeve was never far away from his mind. Eric wanted to open his mouth and give good straight guy advice. Advice that would wipe away the worry from his face the way he'd use a facial wet wipe to shine away his make up.
He didn't feel like he could be as eloquent as Oatie was. He could make up it up to him by touching instead. He'd stroke the pale boy's hair as they stared up at the ceiling. He moved his index fingers around in circles on his forearm as he talked about the latest movie night in, he'd had with Ola.
"I'm sorry" Eric tickles at his hip.
"What? Why are you apologising?"
"I can't compete with your mum man. I wish I could therapise you. I wish I could quote a motivational YouTube video to you, to stop you from feeling like shit"
"Eric. Just being here with me. That's more than I've deserved lately. Thanks" Both teens lie on their sides facing each other face to face. Eric massages Otis' delicate spot, his weak spot, just above his nose. And Otis, at peace, smiling, and delighted, purrs into his friend's touch...
"Tromboner?" They hear the familiar grunt of that name, his claim. Otis jumps up petrified, like his bed in on fire. "Woah! New Kid! Where do you think you're going?" Adam charges towards him tossing a fold up chair to the side as he grabs Otis by the throat.
"Fuck!" Otis gasps as the huge teen raises his fist.
"Ad! Get the fuck off him! You fucking THUG!" Eric yells.
"Just mates! You fucking liar!" His boyfriend growls.
"You evil twat!" Eric launches himself of the bed like a stuntman. he tries and fails to pull Adam away. It's only when Jean separates the boys and threatens to call the police, then Adam let's go. With his reputation around town being so awful, he didn't need "Mother-basher" to be added to that list of disgrace.
"Oatie? Hun?" Eric gulps in dread as Jean comforts a very shaken Otis. He goes down the stairs to follow his partner, who now makes his exit and leaves the door ajar.
"What the entire fuck? Who the fuck are you? All this fucking change for WHAT Adam? Look at me!"
"Nah" His hands swaying against his pockets.
"I said fucking look at me! The fashionista roars. He still pretends that he hasn't heard him. The headmaster's son is now looking at their matching bikes with matching lock chains.
"Very cosy! How long have you been fucking?" Adam whispers shaking his head with jagged disbelief.
"Never! He's my best friend arse-hole!" Eric whines.
"Bullshit!"
"If you HAD any fucking friends, you'd know!" Eric storms around to face him. He's tired of looking at a broad hoodie clothes horse with heavy shoulders. "I should have listened to my Dad. Mum loves you. She probably still will after...Dad always said you were dangerous man. That getting too involved with a passive aggressive dick-head was gonna be a disaster. I should have listened. To him and my gut instinct"
"What's ya gut telling you now?" Adam asked breathing deep, shaking easily.
"It's telling me to look you in those beautiful brown eyes while I dump your arse! That's the last fucking courtesy I'm gonna give you, you delusional prick!"
Their eyes meet and Eric immediately backs away. "You make me physically sick! He points. He walks off back into the house, he goes upstairs to comfort the people that have been a lifeline at times. The people he sees as a second family. He apologies to Jean, who squeezes his shoulder in worry. He sits next to Otis on the bed. He's sipping water, telling everyone that he's okay as usual.
"This shit is my fault!"
"It's not" Otis croaks.
"The hell it's not! But I'm done man! No-one touches you like that! EVER! Eric rubs his best friend back, kicking his trainers off as he lightly kisses the frightened boy on the shoulder.