The worst thing about it was that it started off as a joke.
"Hey," Xehanort had said one evening at Even's house after watching Babylon 5 reruns got boring. "We should do that thing again."
Even had given him a bit of a look and the next second they were on the floor, no idea what they were doing and quite enjoying it, and Xehanort was pretending that Even was Isa and Even was pretending that... Well, Xehanort didn't really know who Even pretended he was because he always, always denied vehemently that it was Lumaira. But anyway, so they'd done the thing and it was just a bit of a laugh, really, until next week they were doing it with tongues and the week after their hands began to roam. But it was just a game, just a bit of pretending, really, and Even knew that and Xehanort knew that and that, really, was that. And they were still friends the rest of the time, helping each other with homework and complaining about bad grammar in school letters and patching each other up after one of other or both of them got their faces kicked in by the Cool Kids.
…
Norty remembered very well one evening when he'd called up Even, lonely and miserable, and asked him around, just for a bit, just for a bit of pretending. Even, who'd had nothing better to do, had agreed and half an hour later turned up on Norty's doorstep, drenched from the rain with a toothbrush and an equally wet pair of pyjamas. Norty had closed his eyes and tilted his head upwards just a little, and it was Isa's lips that fell on his, Isa's cold damp hands stroking his, Isa's soaked-through shirt that he prised from shoulders that weren't bony, they were muscular really, and it was all pretending and rather wonderful as his back crashed into the wall and Isa was pressed against him with passion, forcing his mouth open a little to slip in a tongue, and he moaned in the back of his throat, just a little, a single syllable to make one wonderful, lovely word:
"Isa..."
He barely even sensed the other boy stiffen a little, too caught up with the pretending as his own clothes were stripped away, leaving them both naked and crushed together in the hallway in some kind of painful, desperate embrace. Briefly across Xehanort's mind flashed what Even might be thinking about - Lumaira, he supposed, submissive like Norty was, beautiful like Norty wasn't. But then dreams of Isa enveloped him again, as he stroked a bare, slightly damp chest, moaned again into the kiss, ground his hips against the dream-Isa, shivered and shuddered and slid helplessly to the ground, tugging his friend and pretend-lover down with him. The Isa seemed happy enough to comply, pressing Norty's legs up either side of his naked chest just to get closer. The kisses fell, to Norty's neck, and he bit his lip and tipped his head back and gazed with foggy vision at the ceiling, just imagining. Even disappeared completely, replaced with a more perfect, beautiful vision. Xehanort realised that he was in love.
But oh, God, even if there wasn't really any hope of ever getting Isa, Even with his furious, passionate kisses and almost painfully desperate touches was almost as good. Very nearly almost.
Even made a little noise as though to speak, both of them still moving and a little out of breath, still moving, still moving, and Xehanort was quick to stop him.
"Don't say anything," He moaned; "Oh God, Isa..."
So Even - no, Isa - said nothing, and kept moving. Xehanort didn't even notice the pain until the pleasure had peaked and floated slowly back down to Earth.
"Oh God. Oh God." He kept saying, Isa's name no longer seeming so appropriate with the realisation that this was, after all, only Even who was unsteadily helping him up, carrying him back upstairs to his room with a little difficulty, showering off in Norty's en suite bathroom, then returning with a towel wrapped around his waist and ushering Norty in to do the same.
Afterwards they lay next to each other on Norty's bed, playing Mariokart on their DS's and idly talking. One thing was bothering Xehanort.
"This... this doesn't change anything, does it?" He asked, a blush rising to his dark face as he recalled the wonderful feeling of another body moving against his, a body that could belong to anyone in a darkened hallway and with his eyes tightly closed.
Even glanced at him briefly.
"Meaning what?"
Norty made a vague gesture.
"You know. I mean, it..." And he lowered his voice a little, like anybody was around to hear him, "It wasn't sex, was it? That..."
Even shrugged, worryingly matter of fact when it came down to business like this.
"I guess that's up to you."
"I mean," Norty pressed, worried, "I'm still... I'm still a virgin, aren't I?"
Even contemplated this.
"Yeah, I suppose so."
"'Cus it wasn't really sex. Not proper sex."
"No."
"Okay."
Because it wasn't actual sex, was it, not really, because it was just pretending, even when Norty found his backside slicked with something Even had pulled from the top shelf of the local pharmacist in another stage of the game, as he closed his eyes and moaned Isa's name, over and over until he felt like he could die with longing and that wonderful, wonderful feeling.
…
But it was still just pretending.
…
Right?
----
Right.
…
Even wasn't sure if he could take it any more. That wasn't least because, yet again, his own callous temper and thickheadedness had led to him lying a little awkwardly in a gutter with a black eye and a chest peppered with bruises. But there was more than that, always more. The worst thing was that Xehanort thought it was all a joke.
No, Even wanted to scream, no, it wasn't, it was goddamn serious. This was serious because it was all very well for Xehanort to go around fantasising about Isa but what he didn't know was that every time the wrong name slipped from his lips, every time that Even saw his blissful face, thinking of another person, it hurt.
But, Even supposed as he picked himself up, sorted his school bag into some semblance of order, and trudged home to be screamed at by his mother for supposedly running up the phone bills again, he'd brought it all on himself. Like always. He'd figured that having a Norty who wanted somebody else would be better than no Norty at all, and then things had escalated from just kisses to sex, and at the end of the day it wasn't sex that Norty wanted because he was Even, and it wasn't sex that Even wanted because Norty wanted Isa.
And Norty wanted Isa so badly that it hurt even when Even wasn't pressing himself against his old best friend's body, trying to suppress moans and words so that Norty would feel less like it was him, and more like it was Isa...
And even Norty just being a friend was better than that, but their friendship seemed recently to have simply disintegrated into nothing, because Even wasn't Norty's friend any more, he was just a substitute for something better.
So, as he was screamed at by his mother, he sat back and scowled like he always did, then found a plaster or three and went upstairs. Hopefully Norty would be online. He needed some MMORPG therapy.
…
Right.
…
It was maybe a week later that Even wound up in bed with Xehanort again, ready for another evening of heartbreak and not-quite-right sexual intercourse. He'd promised himself he'd tell Norty the truth, lay his cards out right on the table, before they were in bed and naked, but every time they were being dorky together or kissing tentatively so their braces didn't get stuck, Even thought that it wasn't worth it, it wasn't worth the loss of a dear friend for just a little heartburn, and his throat would tighten uncomfortably and the only thing that could worm its way out would be his signature unpleasant, nasal laugh.
No wonder Norty always pretended that Even was Isa. Even as they played on his PS3, leaning in just a little closer than "just friends" would, Even knew that Norty was thinking about Isa. The poor kid was obsessed with him.
And now they were in bed, doing the thing, and every time Xehanort's lips parted just so and moaned the wrong name, just like that, Even's stomach curled and he just wanted to retch, curl up and hide, because no, he wasn't Isa, and no, he never would be. He was just Even, just another nerd with a bad dress sense and an ugly, mismatched face and annoying voice, he was just Even, as much as he wanted to be gorgeous and popular and athletic, he wasn't, and he was never in a million years going to size up to Xehanort's dreams of perfection and Isa.
And it hurt when he was so close to his beloved, precious Norty and the other boy didn't even know, didn't even realise, and kept blindly bumbling about his fantasy world. It hurt so much. And when Even finally pulled back and out, sat back to reflect on the awful thing he'd done and the awful person he was, he wanted to scream. It wasn't fair. Norty should be in love with him, the boy who listened to all his rants and sweet little random burblings, the boy who'd stay up until 3AM talking Klingon on MSN, the boy who truly and completely loved him, more than Isa would even think to notice Norty's pretty little fluffy-white-hair-lined face.
Norty seemed to sense that something was wrong and reached up to grab a hold of Even's arms with his darker, perfect fingers, and tug him down for a cuddle.
"You know," He said thoughtfully as he rearranged himself around Even's bony, uncomfortably angular body, "If you dyed your hair blue I'd not be able to tell you apart from Isa with my glasses off. That way I wouldn't have to close my eyes."
Even gently prised Xehanort away from him, pushed him to the other side of the bed, and rolled miserably over to face the wall.
"Sorry," Norty tried again. "I didn't mean like that. I mean, it was just a suggestion."
Even's throat felt as dry as sandpaper, but still he choked out a strangled "I know".
"Even...?"
"I know!"
Feeling self conscious and ugly, Even roughly grabbed the duvet that had been kicked down to the bottom of the bed and pulled it over his naked body. On the way up he happened to glance just briefly at Norty's face, confused and worried.
"What's wrong?"
"It's all about Isa, isn't it," Even managed to spit. When Xehanort didn't immediately reply, he continued, "Always. Who cares about friendship, who cares about Even? He can just fuck off. Isa's more important than him."
Norty's face wrinkled up with worry and Even immediately regretted saying anything. Should have kept his bloody mouth shut, that was what. Because even Norty wanting somebody else was better than no Norty at all.
"It's just a thing," Xehanort insisted. "I don't mind if you pretend I'm whoever you like, you know."
Even irritably shook his head, twisting away.
"No."
"It's not fair otherwise, is it?" the other boy blindly insisted, "It's not fair if you don't get to do it too, right-?"
Even didn't even realise he'd moved until he was on top of Norty again, cupping his cheeks with both hands - pale, veiny, bony hands - and the duvet rustling softly between them.
"It's because it's you!" He screamed. "Oh God, Norty, you moron, it's you! I love you, I really do, and I always have ever since before we even started with the thing, and oh God do you know how much it hurts to know that the only reason you're letting me so close is that you're pretending that I'm him?"
Even couldn't even say Isa's name. It was too awful, too shameful, too embarrassing.
And poor Xehanort, poor Norty, looking confused and more than a little horrified. Even carefully relinquished his death grip on the poor boy's face and climbed a little unsteadily out of the bed.
Because at the end of the day, no Norty was better than Norty wanting somebody else.
"I'm sorry, Xehanort. I just can't go on like this any more."
Xehanort had fiddled with his glasses and managed to connect them correctly to his face. He looked like he was about to cry.
"I'm sorry," He said. Even didn't reply. He gathered up his clothes, pulled them on over the mess he'd made with... pulled them on over the mess, collected his bag, and left.
Nami, his secret little sister, was waiting at home to give him hell for whatever reason but Even really, honestly, couldn't give a shit, so he flipped her off and plodded miserably upstairs to leave her ranting in the hallway. Bitch.
He showered quickly, grabbed his pyjamas and was half way on his march to the computer for MMORPGing when he realised that no, there was no point, there was no Norty to team up with. So he growled in the back of his throat, paced a little, found a book, read a page, raided the fridge and ate a yoghurt, then returned upstairs to innate boredom and the inner turmoil and heartbreak of losing, really, the only friend he had.
The thing, he would decide, was better than this. Anything was better than this. But then he'd remember how awful the thing was, and back and forth the thought would fail to progress.
It was almost midnight before he finally logged onto MSN, skimmed his contacts, half of whom he didn't even know or talk to, and found Xehanort's adorably dorky username. He wasn't online. Even logged off and paced again.
----
Norty felt stupid.
Well, being socially awkward in more than just a few ways, Norty felt stupid quite often, but never really like that. Even wasn't in school the next day (and that never happened) and as Xehanort looked over the classroom to Isa, laughing with his friends, for the millionth time, he felt so awful, imagining Even's face, so pained like that, bright green eyes welling up with tears because of him.
How could he have been so stupid, thinking that pretending was okay? And Even was his best friend, his one really special friend (there was Xion, but she was scary, and the others often made friends with him but only ever briefly and only because he was rich). And he'd really hurt him.
"Hey. Dweeb."
Automatically, Norty looked up to see the unpleasant faces of Dilan and Aeleus looming over him.
"C-can I help you?"
It was with an almost routine frequency that Norty was bullied, as much as he was buttered up so that everyone could have parties at his house or nick money to score pharmaceutical drugs. So he was hardly even surprised at having the collar of his shirt grabbed and pulled up to his chin.
"Somebody stole Isa's coat in gym today," Dilan said. "Since you were the only one who went out in that lesson, that means it was you."
Innocent - as usual - Xehanort tried to shake his head. Of course, he'd noticed it there and tentatively sniffed at it to pretend that he was actually close to Isa - but then he'd remembered Even and felt bad so he'd just left it there and returned, five minutes later, to gym.
"I didn't touch it," He promised.
"Search his bag."
They found some rather interesting things in the bag; a Klingon dictionary, which they laughed at; one of Even's old PS games, which they stole, a notepad of Norty and Even's (BFFL, lol) injokes, which they read and ripped into pieces. But Isa's coat wasn't there. So they left.
Norty trudged home in the rain feeling miserable.
…
He was just rounding the last corner to his house when he saw a familiar speck of blue hair, blue coat, white pants in his doorway. Isa?!
What he realised it really was as he ran closer nearly broke his heart. It wasn't Isa at all. It was Even, wearing Isa's coat and leaning against the wall of the house in Isa's cocky stance, with long hair dyed the same shade as Isa's...
"Even!"
Even glanced up, his façade faltering for a moment when he saw Xehanort running towards him, but then he straightened, looking down his nose like Isa would at the object of all his love.
"No," He said, amazed that his tightening throat didn't distort his voice. "Isa."
Norty shook his head, remembering all too clearly last night, all the awful realisations and pain and horror, and found himself unable to speak.
"Come on," Even said as he took Norty in through the front door. "Let's pretend."
Norty didn't know what his legs were doing as they carried him all by themselves into Even and didn't stop until the other boy was pressed against the wall.
"No," He managed, pressing his face against Even's chest; it smelled of Isa, just like Isa, and it really honestly could be Isa except it wasn't. It was Even, his best friend Even, and not some kind of object to be toyed with like this. It wasn't fair on Even. Norty remembered the boy's expression last night. There was only one way he could describe that and that was "broken".
He gently prised the coat away, feeling like he was stripping away all the masks that kept Even from hurting, and then unzipped the black under jumper, smelling just like the aftershave that Isa used, and found pale, taut skin underneath. It wasn't sunkissed. It wasn't flawless. It wasn't covering a bulk of finely toned muscle. But it was Even and so, swallowing thickly, Xehanort accepted that and leaned up a little onto his tiptoes and kissed the lips that weren't perfect, weren't full, weren't sweet-tasting, but thin and drawn and hiding imperfect teeth and braces, and he kissed them until tears ran down his face because it was Even. Really, truly, he could dream all he wanted of Isa, but he wasn't going to get him, not in a million years, and Even was right here, right now, and longing for the love he always gave to Norty returned. And even if his hair wasn't quite the right shade of blue, and not really the same texture either, Norty wrapped his hands up in it and clung to it anyway, because this was Even and Even was special and this was everything that Even deserved.
They just cuddled that night. After Norty had dragged Even upstairs and washed out the blue hair dye and the smell of Isa so what was left was Even and nothing but Even, they'd awkwardly curled up in each other's arms, made out a little, and then decided unanimously to just sleep.
Sleeping with Even. It was an odd thought. But, Norty supposed as he readjusted Even's sleeping elbow so it didn't dig into his side, that was how it had always been. It was always Even's hands, Even's lips, Even's hair, Even's chest and arms and legs and Norty could have pretended all he liked but at the end of the day, it wasn't just dreams of Isa that could make him smile and shiver and shudder and moan, it was also - and possibly even moreso - Even.
Which was a very strange thought indeed.
He was woken at about three o'clock in the morning by Even softly shaking his shoulders.
"I'm going to go home now."
Norty pouted in the darkness.
"Oh, do you have to?"
He found Even's hands gently stroking his hair, and then a light kiss that made him tingle fell on his forehead.
"Mom'll throw a fit as it is."
"You'll be in school tomorrow, right?"
"Of course."
Norty bit his lip as he relinquished his hold on Even to let the boy slip away, dress into the change of clothes he'd brought with him in a drawstring bag, and make for the door. Then something came to his lips that he didn't quite expect or plan, but it was out before he could stop himself and he didn't really regret it at all.
"I love you, Even."
Suddenly, Even had swept back to find his mouth for a tight, almost desperate kiss.
"I love you too."
And he was gone.
----
Even was half way home, just off the night bus, when he noticed three figures approaching, two even taller than he was, the other shorter and stockier and instantly recognisable. He glanced quickly around for an escape route, but this was the suburbs, and all there was was little cul-de-sacs and a bit of a park and nowhere to run.
But it was three o'clock in the morning and no doubt they'd be curious as to where Even was going to early or late. As long as they didn't search his bag, still containing Isa's coat and the empty blue hair dye box and a copy of Isa's deodorant, he'd be okay. Right?
Even had finally decided after a whole day of battling with his feelings, that at least if he pretended to be Isa in bed he'd have Norty as a friend for nerdiness, and he could cope with the pain if he pretended too, pretended that Norty was doing it all for him, and was moaning his name, not Isa's. The effort to replica Isa in himself, though, he wasn't sure he could explain any more. Sneaking into the school, stealing Isa's coat and checking the aftershave he used, then sneaking out again had been easy, and dying his hair... well, it was a learning experience, he supposed.
No, honestly, he'd done it for Xehanort because Xehanort meant more than the world to him. He was the only thing that actually made Even happy, the one he could always rely on for some dorky fun and a good run on WoW until stupid hours in the morning, the only one he knew would never beat him up or verbally abuse him.
But Isa and Dilan and Aeleus were approaching fast, and so he drew himself up straight and prepared to march right past them but he was stopped as a hand shot out and punched him rather neatly in the face.
"What you doing out so late, zeek? Got lost?"
Even opened his mouth to reply but then a foot planted itself on his stomach, knocking the wind out of him, and he crumpled against a tree and slid to the ground, slightly damp from the rain, wheezing.
Isa stalked over, flanked by his taller friends, and unpleasantly cracked his knuckles.
"Where were you today at school? Too afraid of the big bad wolf?"
Even swallowed thickly, pulled off his glasses before they got broken again, and glared purposefully at Isa. Green met green in a fearsome clash.
Even pulled himself a little unsteadily to his feet and, before he could even think about what he was doing, slammed his fist into Isa's pretty face and ran for his life. Isa gave chase, hunted him three blocks down, and tackled him to the floor, kicking and scratching and biting. Even had never really fought back before, too scared of repercussions, but now rage consumed him and he flew punch after punch at Isa, thinking of Norty, poor Norty, and how Isa has stolen his heart with no remorse, no remorse at all.
Well, thought Even as he caught Isa's jaw and sent blue hair flying, I'm stealing his heart right back, thank you very much. Because I deserve it. I bet you don't even know what qaparHa' means. Cock.
The others, slower, caught up and prised Even away from Isa's bloodied body, and kicked him in until he was struggling to keep conscious. Isa picked himself from the floor, wiped blood from his face, and joined in with a knee to Even's groin that he knew his children would feel.
"You bastard," He said with feeling. "You'll regret this. Get his bag."
They grabbed up the draw string bag and walked away with it, Even lying crumpled in a heap against somebody's wall. He watched them through blurry eyes as they left, looked in the bag, pulled out the coat-
As quickly as he'd gone Isa rushed back, thrusting the coat in Even's face.
"Why the fuck do you have this?"
Even spat blood, making a nice little stain on Isa's most prized possession.
"You little twerp! Why do you have my coat?"
Dilan approached, more items from the bag in his hands.
"He's got your deodorant, too. And a box of what looks like blue hair dye."
Isa looked at Even like he was insane. Musing over the intricacies of his internal organs and the probability that they'd somehow miraculously escaped damage, Even felt the same thing.
"You'd better have a good explanation for this," Isa said. His voice sounded distant in the approach to numb, pleasant unconsciousness. "You some kind of pervert stalker, you creep?"
"I didn't do it for me," Even said, feeling like laughing. This was ridiculous. All of it, utter nonsense. Stupid. Moronic. Pointless. Laughable.
Isa didn't seem impressed by this enigmatic reply.
"Give me a straight answer, kid, unless you want your nose broken too."
Even didn't immediately reply. Isa pressed his fingers against the balls of his eyes, and pushed until he half screamed, half whimpered.
"Thought you could make yourself popular?"
"No!"
"Desperate to pretend you weren't the biggest loser in school?"
Even bit his lip, coughed blood and phlegm, and dared to look into Isa's eyes.
"Always."
Isa laughed cruelly, standing up as if that was an answer enough for him.
"Too bad you'll never be cool," He said, and, flinging his coat flippantly over his shoulder, stood and walked away.
It was some time before Even picked himself up off the floor, wiped himself down with his ruined, muddy-blood brown shirt, and walked the last mile down the second bus route, his pass still in the bag that Isa had stolen. What was the time? He didn't know. Somewhere along the line his watch, the one with four dials that told him the temperature and the weather and the date and everything, had been broken.
He was mildly surprised to see Nami across the road on the very last stretch, giggling with one of her friends and looking more than a little tipsy. He waited until she'd got in through the front door and her friend departed, then slipped in too. Nami, removing her shoes in the stairwell, looked up on hearing the door go and very nearly blanched at the sight.
"What the fuck happened to you?"
Even shrugged, pulling off his shirt to reveal purple bruises already forming on his torso.
"Got into a fight."
"More like you got beat up again," Nami replied, rolling her eyes.
"No, I actually fought back this time," Even replied, a little proud of himself as he remembered seeing Isa's crooked nose and swollen eye. It was nothing compared to what they'd done to him, but it was something. A small payback for what Isa had done to Norty.
"Wow. Run for the hills. Who was it, some little kid?"
"Isa. I gave him a bloody nose. And Dilan and Aeleus."
Nami didn't seem impressed, pottering out to the kitchen to grab a drink before going up to bed.
"Have fun with that."
Even mused in the bath for a while, then patched himself up so he looked respectable, and was late in for school the next morning on account of oversleeping something terrible. But it was worth it, because Isa had a bandage on his nose and even if he was loudly complaining at how much of a dick Even was, it was worth it because finally Even had managed to get back at Isa, in small ways, just a little bit. People avoided him as he sat down for class. Whispers ran around the room.
And Norty, oh sweet little Norty, was quick to rush over and fuss over Even, having heard enough rumours to piece everything together and realise what had happened.
"Oh, Even, I'm so sorry," He whispered, eyes so sincere and pure. "If I hadn't- they'd never have- you didn't have to- I'm so sorry I was stupid enough to fall for that... that big dummy."
He'd never been much good at insults, poor thing. Checking that nobody was looking, Even quickly pressed a kiss to Norty's cheek.
"It's okay," He whispered. "I've wanted to do that for a long time anyway."
And Norty looked at him with nothing short of adoration, looked at him, Even the King of Zeeks. And it was worth it, worth taking a few kicks and punches, for Norty's love.
"You know what," Xehanort said once lunch break came and they snuck into the library to play cards, "Isa can fuck right off. Even is way more important than that."