Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed over the years. I really want to finish this thing, so as a reward for your patience (and because I apparently got a burst of creativity today), you get a twofer! Enjoy, and thank you again for all of your kind words.

Disclaimer: I don't own nuthin'. Well. Except the plot. And a couple of the characters.

Chapter 16: Understanding

Tom admitted to himself, after waiting for fifteen minutes, that Carl was probably not going to walk with him to go home. Again.

Which was fine. Really. They had lives of their own and even though they had gotten close with their wizardry and friendship...

Oh God, maybe it was too close, what kind of straight guy wants his gay friend kissing him...

Tom started walking, slowly. It had, admittedly, been a little awkward with Carl in school. He hadn't seen him all that much. But surely things had been going too well before? Maybe Carl had soccer practice today.

Or maybe things got too intense for him. Maybe he bailed on me. Maybe he's creeped out. I mean, yeah, he kissed ME that last time, but he thought he was going to die...

The freshman blew out an impatient breath. This was dumb. Why didn't he just contact him mind-to-mind? Or message him through the manual?

Because I'm a chicken, and I don't want to be rejected, and—

"Hey Tom, wait up!"

He spun around, grinning from ear to ear. "Hurry up then, slowpoke!"

Carl made a face, but obligingly walked a little faster. "Sorry. I was talking to my history teacher."

When he caught up, they walked together in silence. Carl's brow furrowed. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Tom said quietly. Then, more quietly still, "I missed you."

"Yeah...same here. Sorry. It's been...a little crazy."

It was awkward. Why was it so awkward? Since when did they have awkward silences? Tom took a deep breath. This is ridiculous. This is Carl. "So uh...Carl..." Oh God. And I'm supposed to be the articulate one. "About last time..."

Carl flushed. "Yeah. Sorry about that—"

"I completely understand if—"

"I got a little carried away and I guess I assumed—"

"—I mean, I know you're—wait a second. Why are you sorry?"

Carl looked at him like he had four heads that weren't even in the right place. "Uh, I kissed you?"

Tom stared at him. "Yeah, but I kissed you earlier, and before that I..." he suddenly blushed to his ears. "Shit."

The older boy looked nonplussed. "Huh?"

"Uh...yeah, never mind," Tom muttered.

"Come on, tell me!"

They arrived at Tom's house, and as embarrassed as Tom was, it had still been too long since he'd gotten to spend much time with Carl. "Hi Mom, Carl's here!"

"Hi boys!

"Hi Mrs. Swale! —oh c'mon, man, no fair, tell me!"

"I won't," he said vehemently, still beet-red and running up the stairs. Carl made an impatient noise and followed him up to his room, leaving the door ajar, then listened for Tom's thoughts as best he could. Most of them were hidden, but there was a roiling undercurrent of supreme embarrassment...

Tom sat on his bed, then looked at it with dismay and jumped off it again as if burned, instead pacing nervously on the rug.

Carl's bemused expression turned to shock, then an embarrassed understanding of his own. "Oh. Uh. That. So...you remember now, huh?"

Tom squeezed his eyes as tightly shut as he could manage. "I am so sorry, I didn't mean to perv on you in a dream...oh God that's even worse than I thought before, and you didn't tell me, how are you even still friends with me—?"

The older boy reddened and gave his friend a lopsided smile. "It was, uh, very flattering." The younger one buried his face in his hands and groaned. "And," Carl mumbled, letting out a whoosh of air and turning even redder, "also kind of hot."

Tom peeked out disbelievingly from between his fingers. "Wait. What?"

"You heard me, you gonna make me say it again?!"

The blonde boy lowered his hands and sat gingerly on his bed once again, shooting back an impish "Maybe!" The effect was ruined somewhat, however, by the nervous voice crack in the middle of the word. He cleared his throat, heart pounding against his ribs. Carefully, carefully... "So...what...I mean, I totally understand if it's not what you want and of course I'll still love you either way and I really hope I'm not reading you wrong...shit." So much for carefully. "I mean, what I'm trying to say is...are we—" he gestured vaguely, feebly, with his hand. Then he shook his head at himself, almost angrily. His eyes darted to the open door and then back down to his lap. "No. You're straight. What am I saying...forget it, sorry, I'm sorry, forget the whole thing, and—what is so funny?!"

Carl smiled. "You are. And," he turned his head so he was looking straight ahead, could only glance sidelong at the person next to him, "I think...I think we might be. You know. What you were asking. Or trying to ask. I don't know though. I've never...I haven't..." He scrubbed his fingers through his hair, which didn't exactly help, but it did succeed in making his curls stand up in previously unimaginable directions. Then he shook his head, making a face, and held out his hand.

Tom held his breath and tentatively took it, gently interlocking their fingers. "Okay?"

Carl paused a second. Nodded.

Tom scooted closer on the bed—carefully, not like that blundering thought before, careful now—so he was pressed lightly against Carl's side. "Okay?"

Another nod, less hesitation this time.

Well that's a good sign. His heartbeat was so loud he was sure the whole neighborhood would be able to hear it, but Tom slowly raised a trembling hand (the unoccupied one) to Carl's cheek and turned his face towards him. "Still okay?" he whispered.

Carl closed his eyes and nodded, leaning his cheek into Tom's hand.

His eyes were closed, so he didn't see Tom's grin. "Well that's all you're gonna get," he said cheerfully, snatching his hands back and putting a couple of inches between their bodies.

The dark-haired boy's eyes popped open. "Why you little bastard!" he exclaimed, lunging towards Tom's cackling face with both hands extended, the better to grab said face and plant a kiss on those smugly curved lips. His momentum knocked Tom backwards onto the bed and brought Carl down on top of him. A few giggles still slipped out of Tom despite Carl's best efforts to muffle them, but they gradually quieted down.

Finally they broke contact—not fully, of course—and smiled at each other. "Okay?" Tom murmured, his hands settling in the middle of Carl's back.

"Yeah, you little shit," Carl grinned back at him. "Perfect."

"Good. Me too." Tom happily let his mind drift, his eyes taking in his perfect world. His own room, filled with books, wizards' manuals, and Carl, the door closed against the rest of the world. He moved in to kiss Carl once again, shutting his eyes.

Then he opened them wide again. "Uh, Carl?" he asked uneasily.

"Yeah? What's the matter?"

"Did...did you shut the door?"

"What? No..." And Carl's eyes got as wide as saucers as he looked back towards the entrance to the room.

The door was firmly closed.

"Well. It's official," Carl mumbled into the dramatically groaning Tom's shoulder, both of their faces flaming red once again. "You have the coolest parents ever."

-FIN-

Thank you so much, everyone, for sticking with this story. It's been a bumpy ride, but I'm glad to finish it up at last. I have an idea for an epilogue planned, but the main storyline is finished, so I hope you don't mind me finally, finally marking this story as "Complete".

So now you have my headcanon for Tom and Carl's backstory. As always, please feel free to tell me what you think!