Diamond in the Rough

[Patrick]

12-17-16

The train ride back to the main city circuit was spent huddled close together on a bench seat, holding hands. Full bellies, a warm ride, and fantastic memories fueled animated, laughter-laced conversation throughout the entire trip. Both boys were too hyped up on sugar and the thrill of their first ‘real’ date to think about what would happen when the train pulled into the Dockside station; they didn’t share the same stop.

The car swayed as the track began to curve toward the sea. Patrick turned away from the tinted window when he could no longer see the neon glow of Star’s End in the distance. He squeezed Ed’s hand, shifting in his seat so that their legs pressed together.

An automated announcement broadcasted the next stop on the line through the overhead speakers, breaking the spell that had fooled Trick into believing the night would never end. He glanced up, smile fading for the first time since Ed had shown up with a candy cane bouquet. He didn’t say anything, but he squeezed the boy’s hand again, harder this time.

“May I walk you home?” It was an urgent request from Ed. He had no desire for the night to end either. No matter how far Trick’s house was from the train station stop, a hundred feet to a hundred miles, the longer he could prolong their separation the better. He squeezed the other boy’s hand back and smiled in such a way that broadcasted he hoped Trick would say yes.

The request breathed some life back into Patrick’s smile, but he looked a little unsure. “It’s freezing!” The boy chuckled nervously, giving away far too easily that he was only trying to be polite. “But if you want to, sure. Yeah.” He nodded a couple times, trying to play it cool now. “It’s cool.” Cool. So cool.

“It could be a zillion degrees below zero, and I’d still want to walk you home.” Ed stuck out his tongue like a juvenile, then immediately replaced that with a smile. The train squealed to a stop and he stood from the bench, pulling Trick up with him because he refused to let the boy’s hands go.

Patrick’s smile bloomed in full force with the admission. Ed was ridiculously sweet. He didn’t believe the other boy to be disingenuous, but there was a very small part of him that was starting to suspect Ed didn’t actually have a home. Trying to ignore his suspicions, he pulled Ed from the train onto the platform and then the stairs that led down into the street.

It was windy; he shivered. “I’m glad it’s not that cold. We’d just end up riding the train forever in circles.” The younger boy’s smile turned shy, eyes turning to look every which way except in Ed’s direction. “Wouldn’t have to ever say goodbye if that was the case.” The way he said it suggested the idea had some merit.

“It’s only goodnight,” Ed countered. Having referenced Peter Pan once before, it was easy to think that way. He wasn’t exactly dressed for the cold himself, having chosen fashion over weather sense. The cold creeped into his socks and up his khakis, making him shiver too. He turned up the collar of his jacket with the one hand he still had to himself. Still he smiled, looking aside at Trick, and gave the other boy’s hand yet another reassuring squeeze. “Or it doesn’t have to be,” he suggested slyly. He’d never invite himself to stay the night, but plant the notion? Sure.

“It is Saturday,” Trick mused aloud, still looking just about everywhere but Ed. His free hand disappeared into his pocket and soon a clicking sound filled the short silence that followed. “We could stay up all night if we wanted.” He tugged the other boy down an alley to get some relief from the biting wind coming in off the water. It was darker down the side streets, but it was simply too cold a night to take the main road. “I don’t know who’s home, but I doubt anyone will bother us if you want to stay.”

Being pulled down a side street had Ed becoming a little more hyper aware of their surroundings. He didn’t particularly have a fear of darkness himself, but knew that dark places were where the monsters lurked. Therefore his eyes darted around to watch where they were going now instead of focusing so much on the boy holding his hand. It would suck if they got jumped on their first officially real date. He gripped Trick’s hand harder.

“I’d love to stay! I mean, if you want me to that is.” Ed let out a dorky little laugh. He didn’t want to sound too forward, let alone too eager about staying over again.

“Are my hints too subtle?” Patrick tried to temper his smile by biting his lip.

Ed’s smile definitely stretched, wide and flirtatious. He was the sort of guy who usually demanded forthrightness and clarity, because he didn’t want to be accused of misreading perceived signals and messing things up. Trick’s statement was pretty clear, just then, though. Even though he didn’t come right out and say it. Ed figured it was acceptable.

Taking that cue, he stopped and turned abruptly to face the other boy, tugging on Trick’s hand to pull him back his way. For this, Ed at least wanted to look him in the eye. Tempt fate. Meet his wide-eyed gaze for what might have felt like forever, and then interrupting eternity with a few words. They were so close.

“I’d love to stay.” Ed repeated himself. This time less chirpy and more a breathy, perhaps even seductive undertone. That statement needed a minute to sink in, and he let it coil around Trick’s ear drums, before he blinked, purposely, to break the spell (though it wasn’t really any kind of actual magical enchantment), and added, “Do I get to sleep with you tonight? In the same space?” He did not specify bed, but he did lift his brows playfully.

Wide-eyed wonder turned swiftly to alarm. It was exactly the lack of specification that left Trick floundering for an answer. It was a miracle Ed couldn’t actually hear the wheels turning oh-so fast in his head, working hard to figure things out without making an absolute fool of himself. But it was taking too long to come up with something, anything! Patrick withdrew his free hand from his pocket and grabbed up a fistful of the other boy’s coat to keep him from misreading the silence, to keep him in place so he could think a little longer.

“Patrick.” Ed said his name softly, his own smile softening by sheer force of will. He looked the boy’s face over, lingering especially on his mouth and his eyes. He lifted his free hand to lightly touch against the one that was gripping his coat so tightly. He swept his thumb over the other boy’s knuckles and then lifted his hand further to touch his cold fingers to Trick’s cheek.

They were so close. Combined, the furious pounding of their hearts probably set the air around them on fire. Quickened breaths steamed their faces. Ed’s thumb traced a spot really close to the corner of Trick’s mouth. It was exceedingly difficult to make eye contact, even in spurts. His attention kept pulling back to the other boy’s lips. And finally he couldn’t hold it in any more. He had to ask.

“May I kiss you?”

Patrick’s shivering had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with the temperature. In truth, he couldn’t feel a damn thing anymore. Not the wind, not the tangle of knots he knew his stomach to be in, not Ed’s hand linked up with his own nor the one gently touching the side of his face. Aware, but numb to everything. Instead of answering verbally, he pulled at the front of Ed’s coat and angled his chin up to close the distance. The kiss was his answer, and it was everything.

Their first kiss.

In the movies, that sort of thing was supposed to be reserved for the front stoop, right outside the door. They’d messed things up by letting it happen in a dark alley, but by God it was the most amazing mistake in the universe.

Ed had expected himself to make some foolish, girlish noise of surprise, but it didn’t happen quickly enough to take him off guard. After all, he’d asked for it! Tipping his head at just the slightest angle, he smiled as Trick’s lips pressed against his own. This wasn’t at all as awkward as he might have imagined. Their mouths met softly, testing how much pressure to apply bit by bit. Peppermint and tobacco flavors collided and combined into one signature bouquet that itself was unidentifiable, but was decidedly the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. Menthol cigarettes had nothing on this.

Quite of its own accord, Ed’s hand slipped back to gently cradle the base of Trick’s skull, and his other hand broke itself out of the tangle of fingers it was caught in to lift and cup the other side of the boy’s face. He didn’t want to stop this moment. He wanted to keep kissing Patrick forever.

Trick stepped into whatever sliver of space was left between them, pressing their chests together while wrapping his arms around the other boy--slow, just like their kiss. One of his hands gripped Ed’s jacket at the small of his back, applying just enough pressure to express he didn’t want the kiss to end anytime soon. The other hand slid up the boy’s spine, snaking up to hook itself over his shoulder.

Nothing else in the world mattered. Sensation came rushing back into his body all at once as Patrick tilted his head to the side, breathing out a warm breath into Ed’s mouth before resuming their kiss with a bit more fervor. He wasn’t brave enough to sneak a taste of the other boy’s tongue just yet, even though everything in him demanded more.

What a rush! The way Patrick clutched him close made Ed’s heart skip a joyful beat. His hands slipped lower, fingers tangling up with the multicolored scarf he’d gifted the boy. He felt gloriously light-headed. The kiss itself seemed to have injected a thawing agent into his veins. There was no cold. There was no outside world. There was only this. And what this was doing to him was equal parts rapturous and somewhat shamefully embarrassing. They weren’t going to be able to stay this close for much longer without Patrick noticing.

Ed slid his feet back, one after the other, to put a little distance between their hips. He squirmed where he stood and fumbled a few words against the other boy’s lips. “We should,” he whispered breathlessly, “go in.” Two syllables at a time was the best he could manage. “Before we--” So maybe three. “--freeze.” He was definitely using the cold as an excuse, because he certainly wasn’t feeling it anymore.

Patrick burned through what little banked bravery he had left by continuing to kiss Ed while the other boy did his best to bring things to a stop. His cheeks burned with equal parts pleasure and embarrassment, but he didn’t try to hide it when at last they broke apart. Somewhere, deep down, he thought he knew why they’d needed to stop (of course he knew why; he was afflicted similarly), but for whatever reason, he didn’t particularly care if Ed had found him out.

Both of the younger boy’s hands found new places to rest on either of Ed’s hips. “I don’t, um. Did you--okay, yeah. We should… go inside.” That had barely made any sense, but Trick just smiled bashfully and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

Ed’s heart was pounding so thunderously that he had hardly heard half a word anyway. He swayed a scuffling inch forward instinctively when Trick’s hands came to rest on his hips. His fingers gripped scarf and coat collar a little tighter. Later he’d be grateful that the redness in his cheeks could have been blamed on the cold and had nothing at all whatsoever to do with the fact that he was trying to fight down overwhelming arousal. He sucked down a shivering breath, swallowed, and nodded a handful of times, thinking for sure he’d at least heard Trick say inside. Yes. Good. They were in agreement and should go do that, but who was going to disengage first? The struggle was real!

In the end it was Patrick who forced himself to take a step away, but not before lingering where they stood for another full minute, soaking in the aftershock sensations of all the emotions that had fueled their first kiss and the driving force behind their desire to be indoors, close to one another, sharing a sleeping space. He’d have been lying if he said he didn’t want to do much, much more than kiss this boy tonight.

The Patrick who’d been abducted by aliens didn’t care about what other people would think in this moment. He let go of Ed’s waist and reached up to take one of the other boy’s hands, gave it a fond squeeze, and then led him away from the alley. Ed hobbled a step or two, stumbling over his own feet as he tried to covertly readjust, and got himself sorted out in time to avoid being literally dragged.

“I’m not tired,” Trick said coyly, picking up the thread of their earlier conversation.

“Neeeeeeither am I.” A nervous giggle spilled out of Ed’s mouth. His cheeks were beyond red, burning hot as they ran the rest of the way home.

[Patrick]

12-18-16

Spencer's shoulders were jacked near to her ears. It was cold! She wiggled her fingers inside the coat pockets they were buried in making damn sure they had not frozen off. It was a wonder Patrick could hear anything she was saying with her scarf wound half way up her face.

"So?" The word had a lengthy pause attached to it, distinguished by the cloud of breath the filtered through fibers of fabric.

Trick was equally bundled up in a winter jacket and a scarf. For the first time in two weeks he'd left his new favorite scarf (the one from Ed) at home, having traded it for a thick, grey infinity scarf.

"Sooo," he echoed, sounding reluctant. Their arms brushed together as they walked up the path to the inn. "Nothing happened." Dark eyes slanted aside to peer at her. "I mean. We kissed. But. Yeah."

Her brows rose. "All right." She sounded skeptical. Her attention shifted from the boy to the outline of the Inn.

Trick's breath came out in a puff of nervousness, though a tiny smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. "He tastes like cigarettes. Not sure I'm ever going to get used to that." Clunky winter boots clomped up the inn's steps and across the porch. He leaned into the door, looking back at Spencer as he pushed it open. "Don't repeat that!"

She was barely a half of step out of cadence on her ascent. Behind the coiled layers of her scarf there was no mistaking the face she made when he mentioned cigarettes. The corners of her eyes winged out in a squint that borderline passed for a glare. Spencer caught the door with her shoulder, sliding along it and inside.

"I know, I know," Patrick sighed, sounding torn. Smoking was such a terrible habit.

[Patrick]

12-18-16

Trick got caught up in watching Ed pile their mugs full of marshmallows, so he only caught the tail end of Spencer's whirlwind goodbye. There had been expletives and something about forgetting to get something for their housemate, Mallory. Trick blinked after her, then back at Ed, shrugging. "Girls," he said.

Ed swiveled to shoot a look at the door himself, brows raised. Looking back at Trick, he asked, "Is she always like that?" He was painting a very limited picture of the whole that was Spence based on their few and far between interactions. Maybe she didn't hate him. Maybe she was just that way.

"She's--" The boy looked toward the door again, thoughtful. "Yes. I mean, not always. But she has to warm up to a person before she lets her guard down. A little tougher to crack than some others, but... she's worth it." Patrick smiled fondly, taking the cup from Ed. "Where should we sit?"

"Wherever you like! We could take the couch again." The hearth was looking lonely, and so he suggested with a devious little smile while he stepped around Trick. He brushed against the other boy, and stuck his nose right up against his ear once his attention was turned. All too brief, a breath of a nudge, and then he scurried out from behind the counter quick-like.

Though Ed had barely touched him, it was enough to send the younger boy's heart into overdrive. A shiver zipped down his spine, shooting invisible sparks of electricity along his limbs and out of his fingers and toes. His soft smile was a shy thing, but he darted after the other boy without any hesitation.

"What does she like?" Ed was now going to try to figure out how to make Spencer warm up to him as quickly as possible, likely by showering her with random gifts. He wanted Trick's friends to like him too, see. Master plan.

"She likes art. Tagging walls and stuff. Paint. It's always a great day when she can get her hands on quality spray paint. Um." He thought a little more, trailing after the older boy toward the couch. His tongue poked out to touch down on a marshmallow, sticking and snatching it up into his mouth like a lizard.

Ed took a seat right on the middle cushion of the couch. "You're going to have to educate me on what 'quality spray paint' is," he told Trick, looking fully at him again. His eyes had gone a little wide. Ed had no idea about that sort of thing, and the last thing he wanted to do was insult Spencer by accidentally giving her the worst spray paint brand on the market.

"She works at a tattoo shop right now. You want a tattoo?" Trick’s smile was teasing now, because he didn't think that was Ed's sort of thing.

"Um." No he did not want a tattoo, buuuuuuuuuuut... "Would she like me better if I got one?" He was willing to make the sacrifice! Wait. "Do you have one?"

Patrick dropped down beside him, not too close, but enough so that when he brought one leg up with him onto the couch, his knee was draped half into the other boy's lap. He laughed softly at his first question, sitting back and leaning to ensure their shoulders were touching. "Nooo. I don't think I'll ever get one." Another marshmallow disappeared into his mouth. "And you don't have to do anything to make her like you. Just be you."

By now, Trick had all of his attention. Particularly the way the boy kept making multicolored mini marshmallows disappear into his mouth. Though his eyes darted down to note where Trick's knee was. Then he felt the press of their shoulders together and looked back up to meet his eyes, smiling. He huffed a relieved exhale. "Thank goodness. I don't really want a tattoo." The thought of cutting ink into his skin to make a permanent image made him shiver. "Just be me. Okay." That he could do, and that made him smile too.

"What about you, hm?" Trick found it difficult to meet Ed's eyes when they were this close together, so he fixed the majority of his attention on the cup he held in both hands. "Any friends I need to impress?"

Ed laughed and shook his head emphatically. "Nooo. No, no. Nope. I'm depressingly friendless." He darted a look aside as if suspecting the bar crowd might suddenly make fun of him for that, if they heard. Avoiding eye contact was the way to go now. He finally lifted his mug so he could chew some mini marshmallows off the top. After a quick study of the other people and a lick of his lips, he looked back at Trick. "I don't even hang out with the guys after work, mostly because they're all at least twice my age. I don't think they even do the hang out after work thing anyway." He shrugged, had a little internal war with himself, mouth opening and closing as his eyes tick-tocked. He mumbled against his mug, "There is Tabitha, though." Then he gulped down some cocoa. Thankfully it was no longer fresh off the burner scalding hot.

Depressingly friendless. It was depressing simply to learn this tidbit of information about Ed. It made Trick want to hug him and set everything right for him. He didn't quite know how to respond--everyone was supposed to have a friend! Though, he supposed that now... all things considered, he filled that position. Smiling sadly, the boy finally chanced a sip of the cocoa. "Who's Tabitha?"

"Oh, she's um..." He trailed off. The flick of a flame caught in the corner of his eye and he stole a glance barward again. He thoughtlessly stuck his finger in his cocoa and stirred the remaining marshmallows around. "Mm. She's, a, um..." It took him a minute to decide how much to say, but when he looked back at Trick he mustered a smile again. Lowering his voice, he leaned his head in close, and said, "She's a rat." He sucked cocoa and mallow residue off his finger while letting that sink in, watching Trick's face very closely and carefully to see how he might react.

Ed was so friendly, so easy to like, and so freaking secretive at times! Okay, so only with a couple things. Mostly just where he lived. The more he fumbled over his answer, the more interested Trick became. He watched the boy with interest, sipping from hi mug every so often. When Ed leaned in, his heart skipped a beat. A rat. Tabitha was a rat! He might have commented had Ed not licked his finger like that. His mind ended up lost in the sickly-sweet web of a rapidly spun daydream.

[Patrick]

12-27-16

“Can I ask you a question?” Patrick knew he could, but it was one of those expressions that slipped out without thought.

“Mhm!” Ed nodded brightly, in a bouncy sort of way. Though this sounded like one of those precursors to serious topic, he tried to ignore the trepidation hopping around in his belly and leaned forward to snag his can of Fanta off the coffee table by his hat. He leaned back and cracked it open, taking a drink while he awaited the inevitable question.

Trick licked his lips, turning the Coke can he held balanced on his bent knee in small increments. “It’s about something you said to Esmund.”

Ed’s brows rose as he slurped the soda puddle off the edge of his can. Lowering his drink to rest on his lap, he turned a slightly wide-eyed stare on Patrick. “What’d I say?” He feared it had been something terrible that would paint him in a negative light. Also, he liked to think of Esmund as little as possible. The guy was a perv.

“You said--” The younger boy’s cheeks flushed, but he forced himself to keep going. “It was after he talked about...sleeping with you.” This was so embarrassing. Patrick willed his heart to stop beating so hard; it was hard enough to breathe as it was.

That made Ed’s widen even further and he dramatically turned his eyes in a half circle to look away. He sat up a bit straighter, drawing a deep breath in through his nose and holding it. That memory made him pale a little. After a second, he shuddered, exhaled, and looked back at Patrick.

“He’s so gross,” the older boy said, knowing exactly what it was Trick didn’t say. The fact that he did not made Ed smile softly. His eyes said, do go on.

“Sorry, I know, but--you said… You said--”

“I said ‘not on the first date.’” Ed jumped in helpfully, but his averted gaze was definitely sheepish. He looked down at his soda can, lifted it a couple seconds later, and took a drink. Once his dry mouth was satisfied, he lowered the can again and nodded several times to confirm. Yep. That’s what he’d said. Or at least something of the sort.

Trick exhaled silently, nodding along. Yes, yes that is what had been said. He scratched a fingernail against the lip of the can, then lifted it for a long drink. Everything he’d managed to pin down at work today about needing to set some physical boundaries had since fled his mind. Simply being in Ed’s presence seemed to have that effect.

Ed’s mind had cycled back to a couple nights previous. Those so fresh memories created phantom sensations that made him shiver, but as he stared into the depths of the universe within his soda can he also smiled. They had gotten so swept up in each other, blinded by desire, fueled by hormones, and it had been nice. The crash back down to reality had been terrifying, though. This line of questioning that Trick had started ignited one of Ed’s own. He sucked in a sharp breath and looked up quickly to ask it.

“Are we dating?”

A short, breathy laugh spilled out of Trick’s mouth before he could stop it. “I hope so.”

--

“I don’t think I’m like most guys. Not exactly. I always thought I’d wait. You know.” He started chewing on the inside of his cheek now. “And it was easy enough until now. No one’s ever made me feel like… like this before.”

Ed’s smile blossomed again in full, and he returned his attention to studying the younger boy’s face as he spoke. Those were words that fanned the flames in his heart even hotter. Still consciously aware of the frat boys across the room, he spared them a cautious glance before leaning into his own armrest to get closer to Trick. This way he could better look him in the eye, when the younger boy allowed it.

“I’ve never felt exactly like this either,” Ed admitted quietly. “I mean, I’ve had a hundred crushes. Hot guys. Cute guys. All guys. None of them noticed me, though. Not until you.”

--

“I think...” Trick whispered, tucking his chin snugly against the side of Ed’s face. “I think that’s good. That’s…yes. We can go slow.” There was more, but it felt too forward. The younger boy hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek again. “I don’t want to… explore with anyone but you.” The day either one of them said the word ‘sex’, hell would freeze over.

That made Ed smile, and if Trick couldn’t feel that he’d certainly feel the squeeze of the older boy’s arms. He just kept saying all the right things. “I don’t want to with anyone but you either,” Ed whispered sincerely. He lifted his head to meet Trick’s eyes. “So if we’re dating, and… and only with each other… does that mean… can I… will you be my boyfriend?”

Patrick’s heart stopped. It was one thing to beat around the bush, and it was another entirely to come right out and say it like that.

He sucked in a squeaky, happy breath. Terrified, too, but also thrilled. His first boyfriend! He brought a hand up to cup the back of Ed’s neck and helped himself to a kiss. It might have been a little too hard; they bumped their teeth together a little bit because he couldn’t dim his smile fast enough. Trick told himself to pretend it hadn’t happened, to focus instead on conveying a stupidly happy ‘yes’ through their liplock.

[Patrick]

12-28-16

Ed turned on his stool, putting his back to Trick but still kept the boy’s arm captive. This effectively brought the his arm off the bar and over his shoulder so he could still hug it to his chest. And this way he could still see Spencer, should conversation commence. He was kind of at a loss except for a thought that had him tipping back his head to whisper in Trick's ear.

“Have you told her yet?”

Spencer narrowed her eyes at Ed. Whispering was hardly ever a good thing.

"Oh," Trick said, trying to focus on the words themselves and not the swooping sensation in his gut for having Ed's lips so close to his ear. "No. This is the first time I've seen her since yesterday."

Tipping his head back forward, Ed's lips were twisted into a semblance of a frown that was gone a second later. He leaned to look around Trick and let go of his arm with one hand so he could wave goodbye to someone. Then he tilted back and looked over his shoulder at Patrick's face.

Patrick blinked at Ed. What, was he supposed to tell her right now?

Huddled as she was around her mug of cocoa, Spencer continued to eye the pair cautiously. A sip here, a glance there; she was careful to spread her attention about the room, never close to becoming too settled.

With a roll of his eyes and exasperated sigh, Ed lifted Trick's arm up over his head and ducked out forward, letting go. He sank and swiveled back to face the other boy and give him a light shove. He made a show of nodding his head sideways at Spencer and hoping his eyes conveyed the message to get on with it!

"Uh," was all Trick said, appearing somewhat shocked in the wake of being told to go do something. More or less. He scratched his neck and slid off his stool, cheeks already flushed before his feet hit the floor. The boy tugged at the hem of his green sweater while shuffling over to join Spencer in her chair. Yes, in her chair. Just helped himself to the sliver of space that was unoccupied, forcing the girl to squish over and make room for him.

Spencer checked her chin to her shoulder and stared at him carefully with a narrowed glance. "What?"

Ed looked aside at Patrick and Spencer with a softened smile. Then he got up off his stool and scooted around behind the bar. He'd noticed Spence was running low on cocoa, and he as off to the rescue! He figured there was a fresh pot back there from Lirssa's service, and upon finding it he filled up a new mug, which he brought back out to offer to the girl with a smile.

"I meant to tell you last night, but you didn't come home before I went to sleep." Trick watched Ed for a long moment, his smile growing more shy as the boy came over to join them.

She looked up at Trick, expression unchanged from when she’d squinted at him. Ed. Patrick. Ed. "What did you guys do?"

That question made Ed giggle, and he swapped out Spencer’s empty mug for the full one whether she liked it or not! Cheeks flushing, he had to scurry back behind the counter to dispose of the old mug before he died.

"We, um. We're dating now,” said Trick.

Spencer stared at Patrick in the wake of a sneak attack mug exchange. "Seriously?" It was the first thing she said, though not the first thought.

The boy poked her in the ribs. "Yes, seriously."

"Yes!" Ed chimed in, laughing into the word. Mug to sink, he scurried back out from behind the bar and back their way. He grabbed his Fanta off the counter and moved in close to Trick's side. He wasn't going to join them on the chair, though. That'd just be overkill.

Her gaze shifted to Ed. Patrick. Ed. "For real?"

Ed’s attention swiveled back to Spencer. He nodded a lot, smiling enormously. "Really for real officially real."

Spencer looked back to Patrick. "So....are you going to ride off into the sunset or something?" She was still processing, so much so that she hadn't even sampled her freshly refilled mug of cocoa.

Trick sank back into the corner of the chair, seated crookedly with one leg hanging over the arm of the seat. He bit his lip to keep the smile from stretching clean off his face, then snorted at her question. "Yeah, as soon as we find a horse."

They both made Ed giggle with that exchange. With a great big stupid smile, he pivoted and turned to face away from them and look anywhere else. He studied the remaining crowd briefly while finishing off his second soda.

"Why don't you just jump in a helicopter? You'll get there faster." Somewhere in the room someone was talking about one. Still reeling from the news, she latched onto the word and threw it in there.

"If you find one, let us know. Who doesn't want to get there faster?" Dark eyes slid boldly toward Ed. He wasn't sure what had possessed him, but he smirked at the boy.

That look from Trick infected Ed with a wickedness that bled into his smile. Oh my. He was forced to cover his mouth with a hand and close his eyes. Count to ten. Chase away the naughty thoughts. How did those get there? He needed a cigarette. Snort-giggling into his hand, he stepped around them and a few paces further away to light up. His pretty new Zippo made a minor appearance to help out with the nicotine fix. Tucked safely into his pocket afterward.

Spencer rose carefully, tipping to the side to set the mug on a table as not to spill a single drop. She reached for her scarf, doubling it up around her neck. The jacket came next. One arm shoved in, she asked, "Are you going to stick around?"

Trick was so busy smirking at Ed that it didn't immediately register when Spencer started gearing up to leave. The boy looked aside at her when he felt her jacket being tugged out from beneath him. The amusement bled away into confusion. "Well why the hell wouldn't I?"

The second arm was shoved as well; she didn't bother to fiddle with the zipper and buttons. A tug on the strap of her bag released it from Patrick's back. Spray paint cans clinked when she ducked her head to settled patchwork against her hip. "I don't know." She ticked a glance at Ed, then the boy in the chair. "I'm gonna go. Later," she said and strode for the door.

[Patrick]

12-29-16

An old apartment building along the wall in Old Temple. That’s what Ed had said when asked where he lived. Despite this information, Patrick started to suspect the older boy was homeless--even though Ed specifically said he wasn’t! Lying was a way of life on the street; lies protected you. If Ed had been lying, he wouldn’t have cared.

As it turned out, the older boy had been telling the truth.

The ink had bled some due to exposure to the elements, but there it was. His name, Ed Smith, scrawled across a little piece of white cardboard and stuffed into the slot for apartment number 2B. Once he got over the shock of being wrong, Trick mashed the buzzer with cold fingers and held his breath.

While waiting, the boy looked up the front of the building to the very top, then all around him. Ed’s building was three stories tall, brick built and as decrepit as the surrounding buildings, most of which were practically identical. Perhaps once these buildings had been single family residences, but they had been renovated into apartment units that were badly taken care of. Half the fire escape was missing on the second floor, for instance.

The neighborhood seemed to have a perpetually dreary overcast, as if it was always threatening to rain in this section of the city no matter the season. The sky was gray. The fact that it was winter only made it colder. Steam piped out of the tops of the buildings indicating that at least there was some form of central heating. The block was infested with rats, though. A few of them scurried around a tilted over trashcan in the alley to the left.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of waiting, a crackly voice that unmistakably sounded like Ed’s came through the speaker. “Who is it?” A bit of terrified paranoia bled through the aged wiring.

Patrick let himself smile brilliantly since no one could see him, and stepped up close to the speaker.

“It’s Patrick,” he said. Then quickly added, “I don’t have to come up--let’s go have lunch? If you want.” Then he shut his eyes and screwed up his face, thinking he sounded stupid. He never noticed the way the rats stopped rummaging through the trashcan to turn and stare at him. There were four of them. He might have felt the eyes, but by the time he opened his own they had vanished. Several agonizing minutes ticked by before Ed’s voice came through the speaker again.

“It’s down, actually. It’s okay. Downstairs.” The speaker crackled after a silent pause, then the older boy’s voice added, “Come in.” As an afterthought. There was a buzzing sound and a click that announced the unlocking of the steel bar gate and the interior door. Patrick wasted no time in pulling open the first and pushing open the second to get inside.

The doors lead Patrick into a cramped hallway that was more of a stoop at the junction of a flight of stairs. The wall to the right was lined with a handful of mailboxes with key locks. The stairs went up from there. The down flight only revealed itself when the younger boy shut the doors behind him. The building smelled musty and old. The walls inside were brick as well, old patches of decaying plaster hanging in a few spots. The stairs were creaky and lead to a short bend with a door in the wall just under the stairs. 2B was printed on in peeling paint.

Patrick didn’t even have to knock. The door was cracked open to greet him. Ed was scurrying about madly inside, picking up whatever messes had accumulated over the course of however long he’d been there. He was whispering frantically, presumably talking to himself. His shadow darted back and forth. Something scraped across the floor. He was in the process of shoving the foot locker full of his clothes across the mostly empty living space to block the hole in the wall at the base of the kitchenette counter.

“Ed,” the younger boy said softly. He leaned his shoulder against the door jam, ear cocked toward the open crack to listen to whatever was going on inside. Patrick didn’t go inside; he waited in the hall despite the clear invitation.

The door creaked open a little further, as if a ghost had pulled on it. Really it was Tabitha, shoving her oversized rat body against the door and slinking out into the hall to sniff Trick’s shoes.

Trick smiled at her and crouched down, tipping his hand palm up to let her sniff his fingers, too. “I don’t want to come in if you’re not ready, Ed. I only showed up because Rob said you came by the house before I got home.” It sounded like he cut himself off, that there was more to say just waiting on the tip of his tongue. Patrick stroked Tabitha’s head, resisting the urge to immediately scoop her up for cuddles.

An exasperated Ed tugged the door open the rest of the way with a great big smile at the ready. “It’s okay,” he gasped. All the hasty clean up had left him winded. “It’s okay,” he repeated, then turned aside with a lift of his arm to invite him the rest of the way. “You can come in.” His arm slapped against his side.

Trick gently lifted the large rat with him when he stood up, holding her against his chest. Ed closed the squeaky door behind them as Trick carried Tabitha inside.

The dank, little apartment he lived in was nothing to write home about. The only furniture he had was a single sleeper cot, a card table with a single folding chair that acted as a dining table, and a folded open TV tray next to his “bed” that acted as a desk. It looked as if he used the folding chair interchangeably for eating and working between stations. There was also the foot locker, which had been moved, oddly out of place next to the kitchenette counter.

There was one smaller room sectioned off by a curtain hanging from a tension rod in place of a door, the bathroom that contained a toilet, sink, and standing shower stall only. An old fashioned heat register was standing against one empty concrete wall. The lighting was all overhead, exposed bulbs without covers and dangling strings to click them on and off with. He had an old gas stove and short, squat fridge with an overhead freezer compartment. The floors were solid concrete; Ed didn’t own any rugs.

“There are times I’d kill for my own place,” Trick said after giving the room a good once-over. He tipped his head to nuzzle Tabitha with his jaw, then smiled at Ed. Sure, the place was run down; he wasn’t blind, but there was nothing in his expression that suggested he thought any less of Ed for it.

Ed rubbed the back of his head with an awkwardly embarrassed sort of smile. There was some color in his cheeks and he couldn’t quite meet Trick’s eye yet.

“It still needs a lot of work.” Obviously. Ed’s arm dropped back to his side as he shuffled away from the door. He rubbed his left arm with his right hand and looked nervously around. “Do, um… Do you want to sit?”

Trick tried not to look too thrilled at the prospect of getting to hang around, and chose the folding chair as his seat. He pulled it out to face the bed, since it was the only other place for Ed to sit.

“That gift from Mist should help a little, yeah?” Trick set Tabitha in his lap. She made herself right at home, enjoying the attention immensely.

Ed was still avoiding eye contact. The flush was stuck in his cheeks. A nervous giggle escaped him as he moved to slide onto the cot and sit across from Trick.

“Yeah. That helps.” Ed’s coat, it should be noted, was hanging on a peg bolted into the concrete wall by the door. At least he had added that much! There was a shelf over the head of his “bed,” too, that had a row of a few other pairs of shoes on it. He kept them out of reach of rats. “I’ve been trying to decide if I want to spend the extra money on fixing this dump up, or finding some place better.” Reaching across his chest, he scratched his shoulder, then shrugged and dropped his hand to his lap.

Patrick kept his gaze trained on the rat in his lap, cheeks flushing. It surprised him how quickly and easily the thought of just inviting Ed to stay at Wayside came to mind. That’s what they always did, though. When any one of them needed space for a friend, there was always an empty corner of the big Brownstone available for use. But Ed wasn’t just a friend and Trick didn’t know how all of this was supposed to work.

“I gave away all those clothes Andu gave me,” Ed said abruptly. He darted a look across the room at the foot locker he’d moved, strangely, more or less into the kitchen. Toe to heel, he pulled off his boots and then brought his feet up to sit cross-legged on the cot. “I felt weird keeping them, and I don’t really have any place to put them.”

“I got rid of them, too,” Trick admitted. He looked a little guilty, though. “But I sold them. I’m terrible,” he said, grinning in spite of himself. “Christmas presents are expensive!”

Ed breathed a giggly little laugh and looked, finally, at Trick. “I sold one of those gems Icer gave me to pay for those.” His eyes went wide, recalling how much of a cash payout that had been! And how he’d blown the remainder on toys for the orphanage. Ed hadn’t spent a dime on himself with that money. “Well. Most of them.” Admittedly, one or two might have been stolen goods. But hey! He looked away with a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck.

Trick giggled. “It’s the thought that counts. I put some of that money from Icer away. Filled the cupboards at Wayside. And then the rest is going into fixing up the house, I think.”

“I can help fix up whatever you need,” Ed volunteered immediately. The very idea perked him right up. He stopped slouching so much, but darted a glance the other way to the collection of second hand tools that were scattered on his tray table desk. He looked back at Trick with a smile and watched Tabitha stretch across the younger boy’s lap. It looked like she was going to fall asleep. “I like fixing things,” Ed added, as if he hadn’t told Trick that before.

“Awesome. I’m sure Mal ‘ll appreciate it, too. She doesn’t like strangers in the house. And you’re like, probably one of her favorite people now after fixing the water heater.” He chuckled softly, lifting his eyes to Ed’s face. The older boy was smiling broadly. “She’s a hot water hog.” That made Ed giggle.

“I’m glad I could help. I could maybe modify it to produce more hot water?” It was an idea. Ed’s brain was full of them when it came to mechanical stuff. “I’d have to look at it again. What else needs fixing?”

“The roof leaks into the attic. Insulation is a joke, I swear it gets colder in the house than outside some nights.” An exaggeration to be sure, but it made a point. “Um. Lower level bathroom’s inoperable. The stove--I keep thinking one of these days it’s going to explode. And I think all the chimneys are in dire need of cleaning so we don’t burn the place down.”

“Wow.” That was definitely quite a list! Ed nodded along, and then a few times more afterward to sort them into his mental to-do list. “Most of that stuff’s pretty easy. Gathering the materials to do it, though, that’s the hard part.” And, you know, taking a break from making out with Trick to take a look at all the things in need of repair had to go on his list too. That thought made him breathe out a short, dorky little laugh and look down.

Patrick took his time in looking Ed over while the other boy’s gaze was averted. The sharp edges of the initial grin that had spread across his face softened out into an appreciative smile. Ed was adorable, dorky little laugh and all. He leaned forward, ceasing the petting of the rat to place both elbows on his knees. Tabitha slithered down off of his lap at this point and skulked off toward the kitchenette.

“What’s so funny?”

Ed looked up, blushing, but found he couldn’t look away when he met Trick’s eyes. He bit down on his lower lip at first. The smile made it difficult for him to keep hold of it, though.

“I was… just thinking,” he breathed quietly.

“Abouuuuut?” Without Tabitha in his lap, Patrick now felt he could get up. In a bold move, he abandoned the chair and slid onto the cot next to Ed.

Yet another nervous giggle fled Ed’s mouth. He scooted over to give Trick room. His fingers found some loose string on his argyle sock to twist and pull at while he studied the younger boy’s face, particularly lingering on his mouth when he answered.

“Kissing you.” That was only part of it, but now it’s where Ed’s mind was stuck. His heart was pounding furiously. He whispered despite the fact that they were alone. Really alone. Nobody was going to come knocking on Ed’s door. The only person who knew where he lived was sitting right here, on his bed.

“Kissing me,” Trick said in a near echo. His tone was less terrified whisper and more provocative interest. He bent at the waist to untie his boots for longer than necessary, perhaps to give Ed a bit of a reprieve. He slipped them off and turned around on the cot to face Ed, crossing his legs to mirror the other boy’s position with their knees in contact. He smiled, and Ed smiled back at him. “You won’t be able to get much work done if you’re kissing me. Maybe I’ll have to leave the house so I won’t distract you.”

Ed stopped plucking at the string on his sock and stretched his fingers to tentatively touch Patrick’s. The younger boy’s fingers unfurled to tangle up playfully with his own.

“That might be for the best,” Ed whispered pointlessly. “If you want me to get any work done.” This talk was just a cover. Stall tactics. Ed kept stealing glances to Trick’s mouth, and one toward the kitchenette. He couldn’t see Tabitha. He hadn’t even heard her move the foot locker, but he could see it pushed out far enough away from the wall for her to have squeezed through into the hole in the wall. That, thankfully, was still obscured from this angle.

Knowing that she had purposely left them alone made his cheeks burn hot and flush red. He looked quickly back at Trick and swallowed. This was so nerve-wracking. The room wasn’t the warmest, but being a cramped box made of cinder block, it was warmer than Wayside. His shiver had absolutely nothing to do with the damp basement chill.

“What if I didn’t want you to get any work done? We could skip the whole work part and just hang out instead,” said Trick.

“I’d like that…” An unspoken but hung in the air. Ed would like nothing more than to spend his every waking second hanging out with Trick. Making a living by working a job to make money and pay his bills was a chore. “I don’t want your house falling down around your head, though. Or… or your stove blowing up.” He smiled softly and gave Patrick’s fingers a squeeze.

“Time management,” Trick said wryly. “My boss had a lot to say about that today.” The night before, he and Ed had fallen asleep on the train together. Without an alarm to wake them up, they’d both been late to work this morning.

He looked up to catch and hold Ed’s eyes. There was an apology written in them, and his smile dimmed. Patrick’s expression grew defiant. “It’s the first time I’ve ever been late there. I wanted to tell the guy to kiss my ass, but I didn’t. Lesson learned.” He paused for a moment, thoughtful, stroking his thumb across the back of Ed’s hand. “I think I have to apply it to home life, too. I think I’ve been a dick to my best friend this past month.”

“I’m sorry,” Ed said immediately. His smile vanished and he looked down.

Trick shook his head. “It’s not your fault.”

“Are you sure?” Because Ed felt like it was his fault. This past month he had pretty much monopolized on all of Trick’s free time. That’s how long they had known each other. Geeze. Things were moving fast. He might have only just now realized that. He looked up cautiously. “I don’t want to keep you from your friends, Trick. Especially your best one.” He gathered it was Spencer. Her behavior last night had not totally escaped his notice either.

This time Trick nodded. He was sure. “You’re not keeping me from anyone. How I spend my time is on me. And I’ve wanted to spend it with you.”

Hearing the younger boy say that painted a great big smile on Ed’s face again. He gave Trick’s fingers a harder, longer lasting squeeze. Gone was the basement chill entirely. He only felt warm. A fire that ignited first in his heart and swelled outward through the rest of his body. He was so glad to hear that that he could no longer resist tipping forward to steal a soft kiss off Trick’s mouth. Short and sweet. He rocked back into his own space a moment after. He looked down sort of shyly at their hands and nodded a couple of times.

It was Patrick’s turn to squeeze Ed’s hands tightly. His smile was stuck on now and his stomach full of butterflies. It would be so easy to get lost in kissing, but… talking to Ed was really nice, too. “I just have to remind her that I’d not going anywhere.” Trick caught his lower lip between his teeth, worrying the wind-cracked skin for a moment of indecision. “And maybe remind myself that you’re not going anywhere either. I hope.”

Ed looked back up quickly and emphatically shook his head no. “I’m not going anywhere. Well. I mean.” He darted a look around at his very dull apartment. “If I decide to move I’ll definitely tell you.”

The younger boy smiled crookedly. “You better.” Then he added, a little more seriously, “If it’s far from me, we’ll have to steal cell phones to keep in touch.”

“We should get some anyway.” The thought of at least texting Trick 24/7 had been on his mind quite a lot. “I thought about salvaging some old ones and modifying them to work two way, just for you and me, actually.”

“I don’t have one now because of where the house is. Electronics don’t seem work well there.”

“Oh. I know. These wouldn’t rely on a carrier service or anything. They’d work more like long distance walkie talkies, but with texting. They’d probably need charged, though. I can work around that. I just have to find the right parts.”

“That would be awesome! I wish I could do stuff like that. I liked the shop classes we had at school, but then I dropped out.”

“Oh.” Ed sounded surprised and a little sad to hear that. “I didn’t learn to do this stuff in school, though. It was… It’s just a hobby. One that involved a lot of technical manual reading and tearing things apart, but…” He laugh-giggled, shrugged. Nobody ever thinks their hobbies or talents are as awesome as other people do.

“Mal’s trying to convince me to go to a trade school. But I’d need to get my GED first.”

“What’s stopping you?” Ed seemed eager to help! If even only by subtle encouragement.

The younger boy pulled in a deep breath through his nose. “The fact that I dropped out when I was twelve and it’s a lot of catching up to do.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Plus we’re all contributing to the house. If I stop working even a little to go to school… I’m never going to save up enough to get out of there. I love them, but I don’t want to live with Rob, Spencer, and Mal forever. I want to… grow up, get married, have a house of my own.”

Ed’s smile took on a decidedly charmed shape. His puppy love first boyfriend brain ran wild with imaginings of sharing that future with Trick. Grow up. Get married. Have a house of our own. Such thoughts made his heart ache in the most unusually pleasant of ways. Thank goodness the younger boy hadn’t thrown ‘kids’ into the mix, because the simple fact that it was biologically impossible for them to make that happen together would have shattered his hopes and dreams. He sighed with an unmistakable sense of yearning and squeezed Trick’s hands. It took him a minute to snap out of it, with an abrupt head shake, and look him in the eyes again.

“Can I help? Maybe you could do night school?” The younger boy wouldn’t have to quit his job. “I could maybe tutor you on anything you might have trouble with? I mean… You know. I’m not saying I think you’re stupid and can’t figure it out on your own. I just… I want to help. I could make you study or something. I don’t know.”

Patrick chuckled, squeezing Ed’s hands tightly again. Then he tugged on them, using his grasp as leverage to lurch forward and plant a kiss on the other boy’s mouth. Ed smiled in response and held Trick’s hands a little tighter, trying to keep him close. He leaned forward to press another kiss on Ed’s mouth, then tipped his chin so that their brows were touching.

“Thanks,” Trick whispered. They were so close now that it was unlikely Ed could see his smile, but maybe it was possible to hear it in his voice. “If I decide to do that, I’ll let you know.” His heart was beating rapidly, making the blood rush loudly in his ears so that it drowned out all other sound. It felt like they’d reached a lull in the conversation, one they’d chosen to fill with nearness. The tightly wound spool of anticipation unraveled inside him into a tangled mess, starting with a flutter in his stomach and grew to fill his chest with a warmth that made him forget it was winter. A dorky giggle shook his shoulders. In the otherwise silence of the room, the creak of the cot beneath them sounded more than loud. The images that came to mind with that only served to make him giggle even more.

All of Trick’s giggling was contagious, and quite a bit of it spilled out of Ed, too, for the same reasons. Flashes of many of his more recent filthy daydreams contended with other thoughts. The older boy struggled to calm his nerves and settle the anxious knots of desire threatening to overwhelm him. There was nothing stopping them from getting carried away, except the way his stomach gurgled its ‘I’m empty’ whine to interrupt the moment. Ed only giggled more as he turned his head to look out at the kitchenette, reminded suddenly of Patrick’s offer to go out for lunch.

“Um. Are you hungry? I… I don’t have much, but I could make some cheese sandwiches? Or… or we could go somewhere like you said?”

“Let me take you out.,” Trick said. “There’s a diner not too far away that makes really good grilled cheese.” That was not even remotely what he wanted to do. What he wanted to do was climb on top of the older boy and make him forget all about his growling stomach, and something told him he could do that with ease.

There was nothing Ed wanted more, to be honest. There was something in the tone of Patrick’s voice that told him what the younger boy was thinking, and that’s why he shivered. Or maybe it was his own imagination strangling him. The visions of what could be were quite overpowering. Ed’s cheeks flushed hot and colorful, and he barely managed to breathe out a simple, “Okay.”

“Can we come back after?” A breathless, hopeful question from Trick.

“Yes.” God yes. Ed’s response was just as breathlessly eager.

[Patrick]

12-31-16

Merc’s was closing early this afternoon, pushing their last client out the door by two o’clock so the staff could clean and shut down by three. It was New Year’s Eve and another year down. Spencer’s noon appointment had been finished just past one. She closed the door behind her and stepped outside at one fifteen. Clouds pillowed on top of one another giving the sky a murky shade of grey. She squinted looking up judging that she has about two to three hours left of good light to add some touches to the piece she was finishing in the shipyard. Shoving her hands into her pockets, she took a sharp left, and made headway for the shipyard.

The chain link fence that surrounded the yard was impressive in its size, stretching close to eight feet up. Around the top perimeter barbed wire coiled in and upon itself, an imposing threat to trespassers. At the corner of Samson and Delilah someone had clipped the fence from its anchored C hook holdings which were bolted into a brick building. Spencer pushed the sharp edges aside, sliding along the wall and in. The cans in her bag shivered and clinked when they shifted.

Boats slept quietly on their blocks, covered with heavy grade white plastic whose loose corners flapped eerily when a breeze gusted in from off the ocean. It smelled like saltwater and smoke and Sid’s BBQ stand at the bottom of the hill. Gravel crunched softly beneath her boots as she made her way to the wall. At the end of the row sat Good Intentions and Mary Katherine Gallagher. Beyond and just between them was Spencer’s wall.

At the base of that wall sat huddled a teenage boy whose jean clad legs were bent at the knees, boot heels digging into the gravel so he could lean forward, chest to thighs. Next to him lay a plastic grocery bag and the black backpack he took with him everywhere. The mouthwatering scents from the food cart made his stomach grumble loudly in protest, but filling his belly could wait. There were more important things to fix than hunger.

Patrick blew a hot breath into his hands, rubbing them together as he waited. The sound of crunching gravel filtered into his brain through vivid daydreams meant to keep him warm. He looked up, hopeful but guarded, watching beneath the boat Spencer’s legs as she approached her little piece of Dockside. Whatever issues had arisen between them were about to come to a head.

Mary Katherine’s backside hid the boy from sight. When Spencer stepped out from between the two boats, she nearly tripped from starting. It wasn’t as if Patrick had never met her there before, she wasn’t expecting him. Especially now. The cans in her bag rattled in protest. For this, she set a palm against the patchwork canvas lest one of them deploy a hiss of air and a spray of paint.

Spencer sucked in a breath, eyes wide. “Patrick,” she breathed. She was clutching the strap that crossed over her chest--or rather the small pocket there which likely held something sharp. “What’re you doing here?”

“Waiting for you, stupid.” He rolled his eyes, trying to keep things light. Playful. Gravel scraped the ground as he slid his feet forward, legs outstretched. Trick straightened up to press his spine to the underwater mural behind him that was still in the process of being finished. He snatched up the plastic bag and pulled it into his lap. “I brought you stuff. Thought… maybe we could, like, talk.”

The corners of her eyes narrowed when she squinted at him before her gaze shifted to scan the area. “Yeah? What’s up?” There was a definitive hesitation as if she had switched thoughts and had meant to ask him something else. The hand on her chest lifted to push pale hair from her face. It was followed by the other in several sweeps to collect weight of it in a mess at the crown of her head.

“I dunno,” Patrick said sarcastically. He pulled a brand new jar of JIF peanut butter from the bag and started to unscrew the lid. “I told you I had a boyfriend and you got up and left. And haven’t talked to me since.” That wasn’t exactly true, but that’s how it felt. He was also leaving out the part where he’d been an ******* for the last month by spending all his time with Ed like no one else existed on the planet.

“I haven’t seen you in three friggin’ days.” Spencer snapped. It was her immediate go to reaction, though not a necessary one. “I’ve hardly seen you in weeks,” she added right after. The element of a whine was close to inserting itself in between the words but instead they were much softer around the edges.

“Well excuse me for meeting someone who likes me that I actually like back for once.” They shouldn’t be so snarky with one another, but he couldn’t shake the way his sharp tone weaponized the words. The boy rolled his eyes, dipping the very tip of his finger into the smooth surface of the creamy peanut butter. He looked up at Spencer, half glaring and half hurt. Patrick sucked on his finger and held the jar up in the other hand, rotating his wrist back and forth in a come and get it gesture. He knew he was being an ass, which was why his shoulders drooped, rounding slightly forward in defeat. “I’m sorry I’ve been hanging out with him all the time.”

She shifted where she stood, completely avoiding his eyes, but peanut butter had a very distinct aroma. When it hit her, green eyes snapped to stare at the Jiff jar in his lap. Spencer watched him pull a dick move, breaking the smooth surface first. “You didn’t come back to the house for two days, Patrick.” She was not going to let it go, but the fight had already started bleeding out of her. Ducking her head, she pulled the messenger bag off and dropped it on the ground. With a spin of her heel, she pressed her back into a painted ocean and slid down to sit next to him.

“I was pissed at you the first night. The second night I was--” Getting laid. Only... he couldn’t make the crude words come out of his mouth. He could say them about other people, but when it was about him and Ed, it just didn’t sound right. Patrick’s cheeks flushed hot, embarrassingly bright. “I was… That **** at the bar messed me up. All the blood.” Pictures of the gruesome scene two nights earlier flashed through his mind. The guy bleeding out on the floor of the inn, someone talking about putting the man out of his misery like he was cattle, and all the memories the pool of blood dredged up from his past. It all made him shiver, feeling queasy.

Spencer snatched the peanut butter jar from him and dug a finger into it, scooping out a large dollop. She opened her mouth and sucked in a breath like she was going to snap at him, but stuck her finger in instead. After swallowing, she went for seconds. “I know,” quietly. “I was there too.” But he’d left with Ed.

“You were still all… weird with me. And I was freaking out, so I went home with Ed.”

“For two nights?” Seconds became thirds before she even thought to offer the jar back to Patrick.

“No, the first night we fell asleep riding the train.” Trick shook his head in regard to the jar, pulling out an apple from the bag on his lap instead. He slipped a small knife out of his boot, checked to make sure the blade was clean, and started carving the fruit into wedges. “The second night I stayed at his place. But I came home last night.”

Spencer pushed the peanut butter jar between her thighs. “I wasn’t around last night.” She scraped her tongue over her teeth. “So is this how it’s going to be until you decide to leave?”

He furrowed his brows and passed an apple wedge to her that was stuck to the tip of his knife. “Until I decide to leave? What are you--?” Patrick sighed. “Spencer. I’m not going anywhere, okay? I live at Wayside with you, and Mal, and Rob, and Haley. Not Ed.”

Spencer pulled the piece off the knife and twisted it into the peanut butter. Rather than say the several childish comebacks that came to mind, she bit into the slice of apple, and swallowed them with it. “I’m happy for you, I am. And I like Ed too. You can do what you want.” Her voice was reserved, perhaps for the snack--Patrick played dirty with her favorites.

“He’s not used to your resting bitch face.” Trick drew a circle in the air near her head with an apple wedge. Spencer curled her lip and pushed his hand and apple pointer away. He sighed. “I like him, a lot. Maybe you could be extra nice so he knows you like him.” He paused, then added, “For me.”

She pressed her tongue inside her cheek, puffing it out, before turning her head to look at him. “I am nice.”

“Bitch face,” Patrick repeated, smirking down at the mostly carved apple in his hands.

“I am,” she sniffed. The make do effect was ruined by the start of a smile before she looked away, and stole an apple slice. “I’m not encouraging his smoking, it’s gross. But I’ll work on smiling more if it’ll make you happy.”

A jolt of fear shot through him at the mention of Ed’s smoking, like somehow Spencer would be able to figure out he’d smoked one himself the other night. He chuckled softly, nervously, and reached across her lap to scoop some peanut butter up with the edge of an apple slice. “You don’t have to like his smoking. It’s… it is what it is. He tries to not do it around us a whole lot ‘cause I’m pretty sure we made it clear we’re not fans.” He tried not to think about how calm the half smoke had made him and how much he wanted to try another. Such a hypocrite. He put the food in his mouth instead, chewed, swallowed, and then went on. “But, yeah. Like, I want you to like him and get along. Maybe we can all hang out more.”

She bit into an apple, dunking it again another time. Rather than eat it, she paused and released a sigh. The “Patrick, I told you that I liked him. Don’t you think he’ll notice if I’m up in his *** batting my lashes?” Spencer paused turning to stare at the boy. “Is that what you want me to do?” For effect, she did and smiled her prettiest before popping the second piece into her mouth. “I’m not a dick all the time.”

Patrick leaned away with a smile, shoving the rest of an apple slice into his mouth. When he rocked back upright, he nudged her arm with an elbow. “I know you’re not. You’re the best! I just… ugh.” The boy let out a strangled sigh of exasperation. “He makes me crazy. And happy. It’s so weird. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I know I want to keep doing it.”

Foregoing the apple, Spencer stuck her finger in the jar. “Then do it. I’m just--it--if he makes you happy, then go for it.” She caught her finger between her teeth and pulled the peanut butter off in a drag. This was the one she pointed at Patrick when she turned on him again. “If he screws you over, all promises are off. Got it?”

He offered his pinky to her instead. “Got it.” Spencer traded the peanut buttery finger for her pinky and linked it up with his. Patrick grinned, squeezing it tightly for a moment before slackening his grip. “Hopefully he doesn’t. I don’t think he’s the type. I mean, I know that almost no one ends up with their first, or whatever, but if we break up, it won’t be over him being an asshole. He’s too… too good.”

She held onto him, curling her finger more tightly. It was leverage enough to pull herself close. “Back it up. Your first?”

Trick’s eyes widened, then darted away. A nice, rosy pink flush colored his cheeks. “You know, boyfriend. Relationship.” He tried to shake his hand free.

Spencer released his finger at the same time he tried to pull it back. “Uh huh.” Her expression was unreadable, brows narrowed, before she looked away. “Too good doesn’t protect anyone from a broken nose. I don’t care if you think his face is pretty.”

The younger boy let out an inaudible sigh of relief when she didn’t press him. “Same goes for your first relationship. I’ve got your back.”

“All right. You can have seconds.” Spencer stared at the back of Good Intentions. “Relationship is such a big word.”

“Yeeeah.” Patrick drew the word out, sounding a little embarrassed.

She let her head fall back to rest against the wall. “Are you ready for that?”

The boy shrugged, then dunked another apple slice into the jar. “Maybe. Okay, so… we, um.” He cast a furtive glance around to make sure they were alone. The flush of his cheek spread to his ears and throat. Patrick inched his back along the wall, scooting closer until their shoulders came into contact. “That first night we kissed? We, uhhh… sort of made out. Our clothes were on, but like, it got heated. I never thought things could happen so fast, you know? And then on Christmas, our shirts ended up on the floor. When it’s happening, I want it, and more. But after he’s gone, I feel like maybe we’re going too fast. So I tried to talk to him about boundaries and… I dunno. By the end of that conversation we were dating. Like, official. It’s going really fast. Is it supposed to happen this fast?”

Spencer considered what he was saying over an apple, nodding here and there. “I don’t know. You’re living in the moment. Whatever choice you make in that moment could go either way.” She shrugged. “We’ve all done it, good and bad.”

“Well it doesn’t feel bad,” he muttered. Patrick’s dark eyes cut aside to watch her face, smirking around another bite of food.

In profile her cheek rolled out, a quirk that was unique to her when she was thinking. “Then go with it.” Her head rolled to the side so that she could trap him with a narrowed stare. “Just don’t let him push you past your limit until you feel ready.”

Patrick’s smirk morphed into a somewhat guilty expression. “I think it’s more like I shouldn’t push him past what he’s comfortable with. But I won’t let him do it to me, either, I promise.”

Spencer laughed, a little breathless, when she turned away. “You say that now. But when the door closes it’s different.”

“Tell me about it.” Trick scratched behind an ear. “We sort of got ahead of ourselves the other night.” Not that he didn’t have every intention of doing so again. And again...

She held up a hand and flared her fingers in a ‘stop’ sign. “Woah. Brakes, Patrick.” Leaning over him, she grabbed one of the few apple slices left. “TMI.” The peanut butter mountain outweighed the fruit by at least two times.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“I know. Let’s not cross that line.” Spencer drew it between their legs. “We’ll leave it that I saw you naked last year and call it.” The apple and its topping disappeared between her lips.

“Gaaaah don’t remind me!” He cringed away from her, flushing more furiously than he had at all yet. Patrick sniffed emphatically, pointedly, staring down at the knife he was methodically wiping clean on his jeans. After a minute, he asked, “Are we cool?”

She followed suit with her hands, sliding them several times up and down the thighs of her jeans where the fabric was not frayed and ripped. “Yeah,” she told him. “Just don’t be a dick and disappear without telling anyone.”

“I won’t. I promise.” Patrick put the knife away and set the plastic bag in Spencer’s lap. There was one more apple in there that they hadn’t gotten to; he was leaving it for her. “I think we’re going to hang out at the inn tonight to ring in the New Year. Are we going to see you there?”

“Probably.” Plastic crinkled as she wrapped it around the apple for protection before standing up. Not bothering to brush off the dirt and stone from sitting, Spencer crouched down by her bag and tossed open the flap. “I want to finish a few things here before I run out of light.” She reached inside and started pulling out paint cans of various sizes. “I’ll see if Mal’s around.”

He tipped his head back to squint up at the stretch of unfinished wall. “Cool. I can’t wait to see this one when it’s done. It’s probably one of my favorites so far.” Patrick directed a smile at Spencer, nudged her arm with his again, and finally got up. “Hopefully I catch you later.”

With a paint mask in one hand and a pair of gloves in the other, Spencer rose and squinted at the ocean scene. “Thanks. I figured if it was fitting enough for the location, the Watch wouldn’t cover it up.” She stepped back, turning green eyes on the boy. This time her smile was meant to be. “Likely. I was going to work on the mural for your room tomorrow, so think about it.”

The boy’s smile stretched wide enough to show her a mouthful of teeth. “I will.”

[Patrick]

New Year's Eve - Midnight

Mallory smiled, toasting the room with her Moscow mule. "Eastern clock's about to toll midnight."

Patrick glanced toward her announcement, then turned to face Ed. He adjusted the festive fedora on his head so that it wouldn't fall off, sucked in a deep breath, and reached for the other boy. They were in a room full of people--many of whom he knew, but that didn't matter. Well, it did, but this was a special moment! Everyone needed to ring in the New Year with a kiss if they were able! He'd always wanted to and assumed Ed did, too.

With one hand he scooped up Ed's hip, tugging him close, and with the other he reached up to cup the older boy's neck. Here it was. Their first kiss in front of other people. His heart was going ballistic in his chest as he leaned in to close his mouth over Ed's, hard and hardly chaste.

Somewhere in the city, fireworks were going off. There were some going off in Ed's chest right at that moment, too. The suddenness and fierceness of that kiss caught him entirely by surprise. A squeak escaped him, eyes closing and brows jumping high. A second later, though, he melted in the palms of Trick's hands with a pleased hum of a sigh. His hands came to rest on Patrick's upper arm and shoulder.

In some other animated alternate universe, little heart bubbles would have been bursting over their heads.

Though it could hardly be said that they were making out, the kiss lasted longer than most New Year's kisses should. Trick got lost in the moment, caught up in the swell of emotion that exploded inside his chest.

Eventually it ended, and the boys broke apart breathlessly, cheeks flushed, grinning like absolute fools. Ed was having trouble standing on his own power, so he still held onto Trick's arm and shoulder. A breathy, nerve-rattled, entirely dorky giggle escaped him.

"Happy New Year," he said, breathlessly quiet. Slowly, the rest of the room flooded back in. With a blink and clearing of his throat, Ed looked aside and cheered it louder for the crowd. "Happy New Year!"

[Patrick]

1-8-17

Patrick was a little breathless when he came back into the lower level family room after running up and down four flights of stairs. That area of the house had become their chosen hangout when not making themselves scarce in Trick’s dazzlingly bright room. He held behind him a small, newspaper wrapped box that he tried to keep obscured from view.

Ed was just coming in from a smoke break. The stink of cigarettes still clung to him, though, chased him in through the sliding glass door. He stomped snow off his boots and stepped out of them right by the door.

“Oh good,” Trick said, smiling, still sounding a tad winded. “You’re back. You going outside reminded me…” He let the sentence trail off, not bothering to finish that line of thought. It was inconsequential.

First, he smiled. Then, with an exaggerated shiver and a “brrr!” Ed slinked over to the couch and folded up onto a cushion, legs tucked up underneath him in an effort to warm his feet with his butt.

Patrick’s smile turned shy for a moment, but then he forced himself to stop acting so timid. “I found something the other day that made me think of you.” He strode forward, bringing the gift out from behind his back and held it out to Ed.

The older boy’s brows shot up and he eyed the little package with wide-eyed wonder. “What’s this?” Hesitantly, Ed removed his hands from the tuck he’d had them in his armpits and reached out to close his fingers around the edges of the gift. “It’s not my birthday,” he mused, turning his eyes up to look at Trick’s face. “It’s not our anniversary,” he added with a mischievous little smile. “And Christmas is over.” He took the box and brought it to his lap.

Trick huffed and sat down on the seward trunk that acted as a coffee table directly across from Ed, tapping his fingers impatiently upon the lid. “Shut up. I don’t need an excuse to buy you things.”

That response made Ed’s smile grow enormously. Now he could let the excitement overwhelm him. He’d been playing it cool before, but now he unwound himself and shifted to sit cross-legged on his cushion. With childlike glee, he tore off the newspaper wrapping and dug into the box to see what was inside. His eyes lit up like elated beacons when they beheld the colorful rainbow scarf held within.

“Eeeee! Patrick, I love this!” Hands splayed and held up as if the object deserved worship before he touched it, but then Ed tugged it out of the box. First he he brought it up to press his face against it, but before he could wind up suffocating he brought it to his chest to hold it there.

Patrick looked suitably smug, watching in satisfaction as Ed inspected his gift. After a moment, Ed looked at him with hearts practically shooting out of his eyes. The older boy hastily tossed the scarf around his neck and then scooted forward. When his socked feet hit the floor, he leaned out and grabbed Trick by the face to kiss him soundly.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Ed cheered, after the kiss broke and he leaned back to bounce on his seat. “This is the greatest!”

The kiss left Trick a little dazed, swaying almost drunkenly on the trunk when Ed let him go. He chuckled, somewhat self-consciously, and rubbed a hand over the back of his head. “I figured… since I have zero intention of ever giving back the one you gave to me, you might need a new one.”

Ed giggled, tossing one tail end of the scarf over his shoulder.

Now that he’d been inside and thawed out for a few minutes, Ed shook his arms out of his coat and tossed that article over the armrest behind him. With the extra scarf added to his layers, he was much warmer, so he unzipped his hoodie too. Much more comfortable, he leaned back into the couch, looked at Trick with a brilliant smile, and patted the space right next to him. Patrick pushed up from the trunk, trading that spot for one on the couch next to Ed.

“Okay, so. Question.” Trick tucked his arm under Ed’s and placed his palm on the other boy’s thigh. He looked curiously aside, boldly studying Ed’s face. The older boy was watching him with intense curiosity, brows up and eyes slightly wide, clearly wondering just how serious a question this was going to be!

The younger boy licked his lips. “When exactly is our, uh... anniversary?”

“Oh! That.” Ed’s expression smoothed out considerably. There was a sly twist to his smile. He looked up as he thought on it, worrying at his lower lip. He shoved his right hand under Trick’s and placed his left overtop of it, giving the younger boy’s hand a squeeze. “I want to say…” Drawn out as he looked back down to meet Trick’s eyes. “Right after Christmas. The 27th? When we were at that college bar and you said I could call you my boyfriend.” He still really liked that word; it made him smile, a lot.

Trick liked that word too, even if it still made him blush furiously, like he was doing now. “Mm. Okay. That’s what I thought, but…” He shrugged. “I’d have felt bad if I, like, missed it or something.” This was all still very new to him, and while fun, he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. He squeezed Ed’s hand back and smiled up at him. “I might need a calendar for the first time in my life.”

Ed giggled and leaned over to press a kiss on the younger boy’s cheek. Taking back his right hand, he switched positions to shove his arm under Trick’s, then slipped his hand back under the younger boy’s. He did this so that they’d both be more comfortable when he put his head on Patrick’s shoulder. He spent a moment daydreaming about celebrating all their firsts anyway. Trick’s cheek came to rest against the top of his head, nuzzling him gently.

“Have you gotten to tell anyone yet?” He knew Ed didn’t have close friends apart from Tabitha, but he was curious if the boy had told anyone else about their relationship. “I told the guys at work yesterday. They wanted to know why I wasn’t sticking around after shift to hang out with them.”

Lifting his head off Trick’s shoulder, he shook it and and hummed a closed-mouth negative, “Hm-mm.” Ed took his left hand off the younger boy’s and scratched the back of his head with an awkward smile. “I work with an older guy named Howard. He’s at least fifty. We don’t really talk a lot. Though one day he asked me if I got myself a girlfriend.” Ed laughed and shook his head with a stupid smile. “‘Or something.’ I told him ‘or something’ and he didn’t ask anything more. I think I make him uncomfortable.” He examined his blue painted nails as emphasis and then tilted his head to share his crooked smile with Trick.

Trick smiled a little, but had to think a while longer on how to respond to Howard’s being uncomfortable. “The guys I work with--there’s a bunch of them--they’ve all assumed I had a girlfriend for a while, mostly because I’ve let them think that. But then you and I started dating and… so I had to correct them. I think they want me to bring you around sometime. Put a face to the name or something? I don’t have a picture of you.”

“Yeah? That’s cool.” Ed’s entire demeanor lit up and he turned slightly, at the waist, to better look at Patrick directly. “It’s cool that you work with guys you can hang out with.” There was a slightly jealous twist to his smile, because Ed did not have that kind of relationship with his co-workers.

Trick’s smile turned into more of a grimace. “I wouldn’t go that far. They’re all way older and really… crass. But I usually go to That One Bar with them after work on Saturdays because they buy me lunch and want me to make crazy pool shots. Sometimes they get visiting sailors to play a game against me.”

Ed mirrored that grimace, lips twisting into some semblance of disapproval. The frown even touched his brows. The more Trick told him, the less it sounded like these guys were friends and more like they were just using him to make an extra buck. He wasn’t sure he liked that, at all.

The younger boy shrugged, squeezing Ed’s hand, trying to ease whatever it was that had darkened his mood. “I don’t do anything I don’t want. Work’s easier when they like me.”

The lack of a picture was definitely a problem, if not for being able to show off the SO to coworkers then for being able to admire personally when they were forced to be apart, and thinking on it sparked an idea to life in Ed’s inventive brain.

“I’ve got an idea! We have to go to Star’s End, though.” Ed seemed to want to go embark on this adventure right away, because he untucked his feet and scooted forward, tugging on Trick’s arm as he stood. “And we’ll need some cred chips. So we’ll have to stop by an exchange.”

“Oh yeah?” Said Patrick. The change of subject was a welcome thing. Nothing he’d come up with in response to Ed’s co-worker would have made the conversation any lighter. “An idea for what?” He caught Ed’s waist with his free hand to help hoist himself up from the couch, squeezing lightly, then slipping down and away. Maybe it was an accident the way his fingertips brushed so closely to the curve of Ed’s behind.

For a moment, Ed completely forgot the idea he’d just come up with. The way Patrick squeezed his waist had flipped his train of thought to switch lanes over from innocent and fun activities to more debaucherous ones. It took him a minute to recover from the way his heart bounced against the inside of his ribcage, his chest feeling tight and blood rushing to other places. He gasped oh so quietly, a shivery, sharp indrawn breath. Why had Trick’s fingers had to be so close, and then yet so far? He turned his hand, knuckles bumping shortly before he found the younger boy’s fingers to intertwine with.

“A, um--” Trick had such a nice mouth. Ed forced himself to blink and look away. Stop staring at it with desire! Trick grinned at him as though he knew what had been going through his mind. “There’s an arcade and it has one of those photo booth things,” he said hurriedly, anxious to switch back to the original subject and get moving. He turned, shaking his hand free of Trick’s so shortly after having taken hold of it, and grabbed up his coat. “We could get some pictures easy, and then maybe play some games? Get dinner?”

“Yeah, that sounds fun!” Trick pawed at his hair, though, worrying it was too much of a mess for pictures. “You’re going to have a hell of a time getting me to leave. I think I want to live there someday.” Stars End, not the arcade.

Talking about living in Stars End someday reminded Trick that Ed was thinking about moving out of his basement apartment. On their way to the front door, Trick asked as casually as he could muster, “If you move, where do you think you’re going?”

“I, uh…” Anywhere closer to you, was foremost in his thoughts, and he blushed while fighting not to say it. “Um.” Second to the first thought was Star’s End, because of what Trick said. The logical choice would be some place closer to work, but the depot was further from Wayside than his current residence. So was the spacer district, really, but his moving there would make Trick’s visits to his place all the more exciting! There were far too many choices, and therefore what Ed really said was, “I don’t know.”

That answer was better than an answer that included Ed moving further away. Trick had to let the other boy go so he could pull his jacket on, but then he lingered with him in the foyer just a little longer. He darted a glance around to make sure no one was going to make a sudden appearance; at the most it sounded like Haley was watching a movie down the hall. Everyone else was either up in their rooms or out of the house. Patrick stepped closer to Ed, running his fingers down the length of the new rainbow scarf. He gave it a tug, making Ed gasp quietly as he reeled the other boy even closer.

“I don’t want you to move away.” He raised his chin until their lips met, cheeks catching fire immediately. Ed couldn’t help but moan, a soft hum of pleasure. His grip on the scarf tightened upon hearing that.

All plans of leaving the house to embark on a picture taking adventure fled Ed’s mind immediately. He felt himself drowning and didn’t at all want to come up for air. Lava poured through his veins and he melted under Patrick’s grip. His fingers tingled, but he could feel them brushing up along the younger boy’s sides, seeking some part of him to hold onto. His hands slipped around to Trick’s back and up along to the middle of his spine where finally he got a grip on some coat fabric. He pressed his knuckles into Trick’s back and hugged him close while they kissed.

“I won’t.” Ed managed to gasp a whisper of those two words into the younger boy’s mouth, but instantly they resumed kissing. Fierce and needy. He’d do anything Trick asked of him. Anything he wanted at all. Anything that made him happy. And so not moving away was placed at the top of his priority list. Right underneath keep kissing.

On some level he knew he was being manipulative, but Patrick didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was that they stayed together. Everything was better with Ed around. It sounded like being with him was what Ed wanted, too. No harm done, right? He smiled into their kiss, humming the softest sound of approval. When he pulled back, they were both breathing a little hard, cheeks flushed with arousal.

“Pictures?” Trick said questioningly, though it was more a reminder that they were supposed to be heading out. “You can put yours in your truck. Make whatever his name was even more uncomfortable.” Howard had apparently been designated a homophobe by Patrick.

Ed exhaled a breathless giggle. “Right yes pictures.” He fought to bring his brain back down to earth. His imagination had lifted him two floors up, and it was so tempting to put off an outing for another day. He had to put conscious effort into releasing the grip he had on the back of Trick’s coat. Imagining he’d put wrinkles in it, he smoothed his hands down over the younger boy’s back before letting his hands fall to his sides. He looked down briefly, then up to meet Trick’s eyes with a coy little smile.

“You have to let go,” the older boy whispered. He lifted his hand between them to touch his fingers to Trick’s knuckles. The scarf. He still had hold of it.

Patrick looked down at the death grip he had on the colorful scarf. He let go of it immediately, rocking back half a step with a self-conscious chuckle. He smoothed his hand over the scarf, perhaps aware of Ed’s train of thought given the mischievous glint in his eyes when he looked up through his lashes at the other boy’s face. Ed blushed with a nervous giggle and gave him a light shove toward the door. What had been a sly smirk became a full on grin, coupled with a short laugh. The expression didn’t last long, tempered quickly and easily from years of practice keeping his emotions tucked away.

“I know a place where we can get our money exchanged,” Trick said. He tugged the door open, waiting politely for Ed to move on through ahead of him. “How much do cigarettes cost?” He asked while shutting and locking the front door behind them. The younger boy then slipped his hand into Ed’s as they descended the steps. “I think I want to buy a pack.”

“They’re not cheap.” The blush on Ed’s cheeks contested with the ashenness that wanted to take over his complexion too. He made a face, briefly. “I know how to get them almost free, though.” And he was sure to show Trick how.

“Now you’re talking,” Patrick replied through another surge of a smile. Nothing could beat free.

[Patrick]

1-9-17

The WestEnd was a peculiar place. Not exactly the sort of destination in which most people would choose to settle down, what with its reputation for high volume gang violence, unpredictable manna fluctuations, and overall derelict, tumbledown neighborhoods.

But what better place for a bunch of runaways to hide than in the city’s ‘dead zone’?

Though blessedly distant from the various gang controlled blocks, Wayside Manor, an abandoned brownstone, was too far from the WestEnd Market to be of hope for any sort of revitalization. Even so, Wayside’s occupants did their best to make the four story, deteriorating slump of a house habitable.

Mallory’s magical spells and wards worked well with a nearby spellbox to bring mostly reliable electricity and water supply to the house. They couldn’t get things like cable or the internet, but their old school box TV with its RCA DVD hookup played movies well enough. The landline telephone had never worked right, ringing dozens of times a day even though no one was on the other end. Since it was more of a nuisance than a boon, they’d disconnected the line.

New age tech didn’t really work in the West End thanks to the wild manna fluctuations, which eventually destroyed things like cell phones. The only person in the house who owned one was Mallory. She turned it on three times a day to check her messages and that was it. Patrick didn’t see the need for one.

Until now. Now he had a boyfriend. And to Patrick, there was nothing more agonizing than having to wait (impatiently) for Ed to come by the house. Having a cell phone would come in handy during the times where one of them was running late, as was the currently the case.

It wasn’t until Rob came through the front door with his little sister, Haley, fresh from school, that Patrick realized he’d spent nearly 3 hours waiting for Ed to show up. He usually came over within an hour of Patrick coming home from work. After quickly cleaning up the deck of cards he’d been throwing, Trick gathered his things and hopped the train to Old Market.

But Ed wasn’t home, either. Patrick rang the buzzer to his apartment multiple times, thinking perhaps Ed might have been taking an accidental nap or a long shower, but to no avail. He waited outside the building for another thirty minutes, busying himself with throwing bits of bread to the rats that were digging through the trash. Ed’s pet rat, Tabitha, had softened his heart to the little rodents.

Trick fed the rats until the sun disappeared from view. With a sigh, he got up from the milk crate on which he’d been sitting, and was about to head home when an idea came to mind. He jogged back over to the apartment building’s buzzer system and tried, one by one, to see if any of the other tenants would let him in. Halfway down the list of occupants, the gate clicked open and Patrick hurriedly made his way inside.

He didn’t linger. It would have been easy to wait around in the hallway until Ed showed up, he was a pro at missing meals, but Trick convinced himself that he’d come across as crazy if he did that. Even he had to admit the idea sounded a little stalkerish. Not wanting to risk Ed thinking he was overly attached to him, (and let’s face it, he probably wasn’t far off from it) he simply left a candy cane hanging on the doorknob of apartment 2B and then went home to find Spencer and mope.

[Patrick]

1-10-17

Tabitha was waiting on the front porch for him when he got home from work, indignantly grooming her ears. Patrick looked around eagerly for some sign of Ed, but the rat was all alone. He frowned at her, then climbed the steps and scooped her up into his arms.

“Hey, Tabs.” He scrunched his face up as she snuffled at his cheek, whiskers tickling his skin. Trick stroked the rodent a few times from head to tail before realizing she had a pink ribbon tied around her neck in a pretty bow. A pair of keys dangled from her throat like pet tags. He fingered them in mild confusion, wondering why Ed would leave her here instead of waiting himself? And how in the world did he know she’d actually stay put?

After changing into something comfortable, he tucked the rat inside his jacket and hopped the train to Old Market. Patrick’s mind ran wild with a thousand and one different scenarios and reasons for Tabitha’s appearance with the keys. Some of them made his cheeks turn red. In fact, he grew so warm that Tabitha wriggled free from his coat to sit in his lap instead. The others left him wondering anxiously if it had anything to do with Ed’s absence the day before.

As the train neared the Old Market station, he’d worked himself into a ball of nerves. Tabitha grew tired of his bouncing knee and attempted to interfere with his nail biting. She pawed at his fingers, squeaking softly as if to chastise him for it. Patrick sighed, trading fingernails for fretting at the inside of his cheek instead. When the train finally came to a stop, he grabbed Tabitha and bolted out ahead of the crowd.

It didn’t take him long at all to reach the apartment complex. Only then did he untie the pretty pink bow from around Tabitha’s neck and used the first key to get inside the building. The second key felt heavy in his hand. He pushed it into the lock of apartment 2B and opened the door.

“Ed?” Trick called out hesitantly. There was no immediate answer and Tabitha squirmed out of his grasp. She thumped to the floor, sneezed, and looked back at him. Her eyes seemed to ask: well, are you coming in or not? Then the rat slinked deeper into the little efficiency and Trick closed the door to follow.

At first glance, little had changed in Ed’s quality of living. The bathroom to the right still lacked a proper door and the kitchenette had a square folding table as its centerpiece. A second folding chair had been added to the mix, however. Most predominantly new was the full size bed that had replaced the cot on the left wall. There were even sheets and a comforter!

The lights were all off except for the one in the bathroom, used perhaps as a night light. Given that it was still daytime, some natural light spilled in through the block glass windows along the tops of the walls. Ed was lying on the bed, on his right side, tucked into a fetal position. His eyes were closed and he was hugging the rainbow scarf Trick had given him to his chest as if it were a teddy bear. The candy cane Patrick had left hanging on the door handle was poking out from under the pillow that half the older boy’s head was on.

At first glance, Ed appeared to be peacefully sleeping. Upon closer examination, however, there was cause for concern. His knuckles were scraped up and a large bruise decorated his left cheek. There was a scrape on his right cheek, too, but that was hardly visible in the lighting and his current position. He was wearing a pair of check flannel pajama pants, a black Nirvana band t-shirt, and some moccasin slippers, making it hard to discern if he was injured anywhere else.

The mostly darkened room and Ed’s seemingly slumbering form gave Patrick pause. The scene before him was not in any way a romantic surprise, so that left only every other terrible reason he’d managed to come up with. As he crept closer, his eyes adjusted to the lack of proper lighting enough for him to notice the bruise and abrasion. His stomach plummeted all the way down to his feet.

Patrick dropped his backpack onto the floor and hurried forward the last few steps to Ed’s side. He sat on the edge of the mattress and gently laid a hand on the older boy’s arm. “Ed?” He whispered, trying not to panic. No one got a bruise like that from a trip and fall accident.

Having been quite certain he’d been alone just a second ago when he’d shut his eyes, Ed was startled awake with the realization that he suddenly was not. The touch and the whisper had him twitching back to consciousness with a sharp intake of breath. His eyes blinked open blearily and he drew back his chin, finding it quite a shock for Trick to be right there. First he winced, though; his bruised ribs making it hurt to move too quickly. But immediately afterward he smiled sleepily, then yawned.

“Hi.” First, of course, Ed was more than pleased to see him, but then confusion knit his brow. “How’d you get in?” He started to turn slowly onto his back, groaning as he stretched out his legs, and looked around for Tabitha, whom he immediately suspected, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey.” Patrick smiled, but it was a tight thing, straining to hold back the tone of concern. “You tied the keys onto a ribbon around Tabitha’s neck and must have dropped her off at my house. Or you trained her to come to my place, I don’t know.” Trick shrugged lightly and slid his hand up Ed’s arm to his shoulder, then past it to trace the bruise on his cheek. Ed flinched, twitching his face away with a sharply in-drawn breath and a quick lift of his hand.

Trick frowned, pulling his hand away. “Are you okay?”

Closing his eyes and remembering to breathe, Ed nodded. His expression contorted through a series of pained expressions as he worked on scooting himself back and into a more upright position. He exhaled once he was settled with his back leaning against the squeaky metal frame at the head of his bed.

“I’m okay,” Ed whispered. When he opened his eyes again, he smiled, because just seeing Trick filled him with an incredible happiness. “It’s nothing. Just got in a scuffle with some of the guys at work. A few scrapes and bruises. I’m okay, though. Really.”

The furrow in Patrick’s brow deepened, but he clamped his mouth shut tightly. The muscles in his jaws jumped with the effort in keeping everything locked behind his teeth. He straightened, pulling in a deep breath through his nose. Watching him work through his fury had Ed scrambling to provide more information.

“They were just being jerks. Betz took my print and he wouldn’t give it back. He and Wes started teasing me about having a girlfriend. I kept trying to get my pictures back. He wouldn’t give them up. Then he saw you weren’t a girl but a boy and they started getting mean about the teasing. I kept trying to get my print back. They kept being jerks. There was some shoving and punching. It probably would’ve got real ugly if Howard hadn’t stepped in and broke us up.” Ed took a deep breath, having reached the end of his ramble, until it dawned on him: “I stayed at his house last night. Howard’s. His wife shoved meatloaf down my throat until I felt like I was going to puke.” Eh heh. His mouth twitched, trying to smile along with his lame attempt at humor. “Oh, and she says I have to bring you over for Sunday dinner.”

Betz. Wes. Two names Patrick committed to memory. Howard the homophobe wasn’t a homophobe after all. He drank in all the new information in silence, having not moved an inch since he first sat down. The hardest part for him in everything was the guilt he felt over not being able to relate. He had never, not even once, crossed paths with someone so bigoted and close-minded that he’d been harassed for his sexuality. Mallory had had to deal with it, and now Ed, too. Why couldn’t they have shared his luck? It wasn’t fair. No one deserved that kind of treatment.

“Patrick, please say something. You’re really scary with that face.” Ed’s eyes were slightly wide as he looked at him. He was nervously twisting the fringe of his rainbow scarf, which was bunched in his lap.

Trick blinked several times, shaking himself free of the thoughts that plagued him. “Sorry,” he said, and then cleared his throat. The younger boy stood up to take his jacket off and hung it up on the pegs near the door. “I just… don’t know what to say. That’s not nothing, Ed.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Ed protested, waving a hand. A puzzled frown marred his usually jovial features. He worried the inside of his mouth with his teeth while studying the spots on his sheets. He was so used to that kind of behavior, what in his day would’ve been seen as harmless ribbing between male peers. Bullying probably wasn’t even in his vocabulary.

Patrick ground his teeth together, but forced himself to calm down. The best thing he could do right now was be there for Ed. He’d take care of Betz and Wes later.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” He asked, returning shortly thereafter to take a seat on the edge of the bed again. “If you can’t remember leaving me keys to get in, then you might have a concussion. How many times did they hit you?”

Ed rolled his eyes, finding the idea of having a concussion to be a silly one, but he humored his boyfriend. “Once in the face,” he said, pointing to the bruise on his left cheek. Turning his hand to point out the scrape, he said, “The locker hit me here.” He thought that was funny. The locker hit him, not: he hit the locker. His playful smile waned, though, and he lifted his shirt to show Patrick the much larger spread of purple bruise on his left side. “Two or three times here. Mrs. Howard told me nothing’s broken, but Howard said I’d be useless at work so I should just stay home.”

The younger boy’s expression darkened.

Ed shrugged his right shoulder, adding in an arm lift. Then he thoughtlessly scratched his right cheek and hissed when his nails caught on the scab. Though he didn’t verbally swear, it’s possible Patrick could see the profanities lurking in his eyes. He’d been too well raised to actually speak any. He sighed and dropped his hand. Patrick reached for it, tangling their fingers together in a lazy jumble.

“I came home and found your candy cane,” Ed went on to say with a smile. He would have pulled it out from under the pillow, but holding Patrick’s hand was better, so he stole a look aside at the peppermint stick sticking out from under his pillow. “Thank you.” He paused to meet Trick’s eyes when he smiled, then looked away to survey his mostly empty living room. “I was too tired. I must’ve tied that ribbon on Tabitha in my sleep. I don’t remember. I just know I wanted you here and…” Again, a smile as he looked back at Trick’s face. He squeezed the younger boy’s hand. “Here you are.”

“I waited for you,” Trick said quietly, gaze fixed on their hands.

“I’m sorry.” Now Ed looked sad and his eyes tipped down too.

The younger boy shook his head quickly. “No, don’t be. I only meant… I wanted to see you. Tried looking, but we don’t really have any way to get in touch with each other.” Patrick squeezed Ed’s fingers.

“I know. I didn’t mean to make you worry. I wanted to get in touch with you somehow, but Mrs. Howard is a force of nature.” His eyes widened some just recalling how bossy and domineering she was! “She wouldn’t let me escape until she was certain I’d had a good night’s rest and a full belly. I almost barfed at breakfast.” He couldn’t take so much food! Which probably explained the sleeping: food coma.

Trick cracked a small smile. “Don’t they know overfeeding practically starving kids is actually bad for us? I wouldn’t know what to do with a fancy home cooked meal. It’s been so long.” Boxed pasta and grilled cheese didn’t count.

“Well, you better figure it out, because I get the feeling if I don’t show up with you on Sunday she’s going to release the hounds on us.” Not that the Howards actually had hounds, but Trick didn’t know that.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Wait, now you’re roping me into becoming a stuffed turkey?!”

Ed started to giggle, but stopped abruptly with a hiss. “Oo. Ow. Oh it hurts to laugh that’s not fair.” He pouted with a whimper and leaned more to the right.

Patrick sobered instantly, eyes full of contrition. He scooted closer, leaning in and reaching out with his free hand to cup the back of the other boy’s neck. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. The soft timbre of his voice made it sound like he was apologizing for more than just making Ed laugh.

“Nothing for you to be sorry for,” Ed mumbled. Trick’s fingers on the back of his bare neck was a very soothing sensation. He scooted closer and slowly, achingly tucked himself onto his side again, making use of Patrick’s lap as a pillow instead of the actual one of two on his bed. “Will you stay with me tonight?” he asked, closing his eyes.

Trick combed through Ed’s hair. “Yeah, sure. Of course. Especially now that you’ve got this nice, comfy bed for me to sleep in.” Though the older boy’s eyes were closed, he’d be able to hear the teasing smile in Patrick’s voice. “Went shopping without me, huh?”

Ed’s smile took on that slightly sinful twist. “Last week,” he said sleepily. It felt so nice to have Trick’s fingers combing through his hair. He hummed a near moan of pleasure as he felt the electric tingles shoot down from his scalp to his spine. “I was going to surprise you.” And then, after a beat: “Surprise.” It wasn’t exactly the romantic gesture he’d planned, but it would have to do.

Not that Ed could see it, but something wicked seeped its way into Patrick’s expression. Flashes of naughty fantasies played themselves out in his mind as he continued to pull his fingers through the older boy’s hair.

“Not gonna lie. First thought when I came in--between the pretty ribbon on Tabitha and seeing the bed--was that you were trying to get something started.” Trick’s chuckle was equal parts devious and nervous.

Another abruptly cut-short-by-a-wince giggle escaped Ed. His cheeks were on fire, a blush so furious that it could probably still be seen in the dim natural lighting spilling in through the window blocks. It hurt to raise his left arm too high over his head, but he got his fingers to Patrick’s knee and turned his face to press it against the younger boy’s thigh. The need to breathe won out and he turned his face out. He rolled until he was on his back again, probably taking over most of the bed at this rate, so he could look up at Trick’s face.

“Sorry to disappoint you.” It was a playful wheeze. Ed had to bite his lip to stop from giggling.

“So disappointed,” said Patrick sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Obviously I’m only in it for the--” He had to stop, incapable of keeping a straight face any longer. Also because he couldn’t say the word sex. A self-conscious, close-lipped smile stretched across his face and he had to look away. He chuckled stupidly and gave his head a faint shake.

Ed sputtered, likewise pressing his lips together, and whimpered. The laughter wanted to escape so bad, but he knew it was going to hurt. He held his breath.

“I’m the worst boyfriend ever,” Trick blurted, looking down at Ed apologetically. He wasn’t supposed to be making the poor boy laugh!

The older boy was shaking his head emphatically no. He completely disagreed. Reaching up with his right hand, he touched his fingers to the side of Trick’s face and gasped before correcting him. “You’re the best.” Ed quickly tucked his lower lip between his teeth to restrain himself from saying anything further, and instead touched his finger to the corner of Patrick’s mouth. “Except you haven’t kissed me yet.” For shame!

“I was going in for the kill earlier, but then you laid back down. It’s not like I can push you up against a wall right now or anything. I mean, I could, but that would probably hurt.” Trick’s hand slipped down from Ed’s hair to glide across the soft skin of his unmarred cheek.

There was that blush again. The mere mention of that recent experience made his pulse quicken. Ed’s hand fell away from the younger boy’s face and gripped him tightly by the shirt collar instead. He pulled Patrick down to his level, lifting his head as far as he could manage to meet him for a passionate and needy kiss.

Trick’s fingers curled around the back of Ed’s neck to help hold him up, firmly locked in place for the duration of their kiss. He was ashamed of how difficult it was to keep from immediately escalating things, even knowing how much pain the other boy was in. There was something about the situation that made Patrick want Ed in some carnal way, like sex would somehow make it better, but he supposed that was his crazy, teenage hormones talking.

Patrick wasn’t alone. Some primal need to drown in the younger boy’s affections was driving Ed. The hormonal teenager in him was also driving on the basis that they hadn’t seen each other for one whole day. Other men had touched him, though, and he wanted all traces of them gone from his skin, replaced completely by Patrick. He put his left hand down on the bed and levered himself up while they kissed, refusing to let go of Trick’s shirt or break the lip lock. So he pulled on the younger boy’s collar while scooting back on the bed, making room, inviting him closer.

Trick kicked his shoes off and crawled onto the bed. The hand he had wrapped around the back of Ed’s neck slid around to press gently against the boy’s chest, urging him to lie down. He found himself straddling Ed’s hips moments later, palms pressed into the mattress on either side of his head, pinning him against a pillow with kiss that kept getting deeper and deeper.

They both gasped for air when it finally broke. Patrick gently nosed Ed’s good cheek and then pressed their foreheads together. He had his eyes shut. “Promise me something?”

“Anything,” Ed whispered breathlessly. He still had a vice grip on the collar of Trick’s hoodie, not wanting to let him go, not wanting to stop. His left hand trembled slightly as his fingers grazed across the younger boy’s thigh, causing Trick to let out a shaky breath. It took concentrated willpower to move him to set his palm down. He tipped his head back to brush his lips against Patrick’s again, wanting nothing more than to go back to kissing.

He didn’t answer right away, letting himself get lost in a few more lazy, soft kisses. Ed’s mouth was just perfect. He slid forward a little, lightly rocking their hips together, and making Ed whimper, as he lowered himself into a more huddled position with his forearms pressed into the bed instead of his hands. He thought about what it would be like to bite or suck at Ed’s bottom lip, but was too afraid to do anything more than dart his tongue out for a brief taste. Then he raised his head as far as Ed’s death grip on his collar would allow.

“Tell me if those homophobic jerks ever touch you again.”

Ed let go of the younger boy’s collar, then. His hand drifted down to settle numbly on his own chest. Some tears welled in his eyes. It was such a drastic change in thought from horny to recalling those homophobic jerks that he instantly went a little soft. He could feel the ache in his side again, and his cheeks burned. He swallowed and nodded mutely his agreement.

Trick nodded along and leaned back in to press another kiss against Ed’s lips, making him sigh and close his eyes. He slid a hand close enough to get his fingers into the older boy’s hair, then traced the curve of his ear. “Only I’m allowed to touch you.”

That level of possessiveness made Ed’s pulse quicken again. He slid his hand up across Trick’s thigh and rolled his hips up, making himself whimper. His heart was thundering so hard he couldn’t feel the bruises anymore, only a liquid warmth that flooded every vein. Sliding his right hand lower between them, he slipped his fingers under Trick’s hoodie and t-shirt to feel the skin of his muscled abdomen. The younger boy felt as fever hot to the touch as he was sure he did himself.

“I only want you to touch me,” Ed breathed.

Patrick pressed all of his weight onto one arm and reached down with the other to catch Ed’s wrist, making him gasp in surprise. He exhaled yet another ragged breath, adrenaline already flooding his system enough to make him shake. “And I will,” he whispered, tipping his head and lowering it so that their cheeks brushed together. Trick pressed a warm kiss along the back of his jaw, rolled his hips one last time to relieve some tension, and slowly sagged his full body weight down on top of the other boy, motionless. “When you’re better.” He mumbled the qualification into the crook of Ed’s neck. God, that was hard to say.

No, no, no, no no. They were stopping!? Ed whined an immediate protest that was driven purely by his hind brain. His hands clenched, gripping Trick’s thigh tight and forming a fist with the other. The younger boy’s grip tightened around his wrist. A minute later his reasonable side battled his lustful hormone beast into submission, and he exhaled heavily, shakily, with a series of nods. His hands relaxed. He lifted his left, shivering hand, and slid it across Trick’s back until he was hugging him loosely. When the younger boy released his wrist, he brought his right arm around to join in. He turned his head to nuzzle Patrick’s face with his own, shivering slightly, maybe in part due to a sudden chill. Mostly because he had to put his lust on hold, though.

Trick carefully maneuvered himself to lie beside Ed instead of on top of him. He tucked his arm under the other boy’s head, even though he knew that would make his arm fall asleep later on. “Go back to sleep. I’m kind of tired too.” That was a lie if there ever was one, but Ed didn’t need to know that. “When you wake back up I’ll wow you with my newly discovered cooking skills by making us something to eat.” He pressed a chaste kiss into the older boy’s hair, trying desperately not to sound like it had been physically painful to put their make-out session on ice.

Worming his arm out from under Patrick, Ed wriggled and turned onto his side to face the younger boy. He folded his right arm between them, hand up so he could fiddle with the strings of Trick’s hoodie. He pressed his nose to the fabric and took a deep breath of laundry soap and eau de Patrick. He tensed with laughter, managing a short and hissy giggle, and then whined from the ache that followed suit. He nodded his face against Trick’s chest and tucked himself in as close as possible. It wasn’t likely he’d fall asleep on command, but just being able to lie here with his boyfriend was everything, and his heartbeat was the best lullaby in the universe.

[Patrick]

1-11-17

Leading up to the winter solstice, Mallory had fallen deeper into her arcane experimentations, and her seclusion, sequestering herself in her room on the top floor, the only sign of her presence the steady thudding of black metal from her crackling boombox speakers.

Her presence at the house had improved since then, if a lot more absent overall. While she always preferred a "closed environment" for an actual spell, she was more likely to spend her reading hours lounging downstairs, or in Spencer's or Trick's rooms if they were home.

Tonight she roused herself from her rituals as soon as she heard Trick come in, and his subsequent cry of "I brought chinese!" She partook in what she at least felt was companionable silence, content to let Ed and Trick banter and flirt while she slurped down brown noodles with a near-zero nutritional value.

"Hey, Mal?"

Mallory saw Trick back into another room while Tabitha bounded out of Ed's lap and towards Spencer. She quietly followed -- quiet, except for her steady chewing.

"What's up?" she said in the dim light of the empty dining room, her voice low.

Patrick scratched his jaw and glanced over his shoulder toward the sound of voices pouring in from the other room. Then he crossed his arms and turned to face Mallory, shuffling another inch or two closer.

"So... Ed's story about getting into a row with some guys at work wasn't exactly the whole truth. Or, it's the truth, but the reason..." The teenager's expression darkened as anger took root. "They jumped him because he was looking at pictures of us that we took in a photobooth the other day. Because he's gay, Mal. And I don't even think they're going to get fired."

Mallory's mouth tightened. The next swallow was hard, and she studied Trick's face as she bent her takeout box in reflexively tensing fingers. She turned her head, listening to everyone in the other room, watching their long shadows move in the candlelight.

"That sucks," she said, and not flippant but with heat, hissing like steam through clenched teeth. "That... really, really sucks." Her head turned back to Trick, her own expression darkened with anger, frustration, and memory. "I'm sorry, Trick."

Patrick followed Mallory's gaze when she looked toward the other room. By the time their eyes met again, his were red-rimmed and shining. "I don't even know how to relate. No one's ever... I mean, we've talked about this before. It's never happened to me. It shouldn't have to happen to anyone." The boy sniffed, swiping at his nose with the back of his hand as he stared off into some dark corner over Mallory's shoulder.

"I don't know what to say to him. Or how to help." He looked at her intently now, and waited.

Mallory's hands became fists at her sides, and she turned her head again when she considered how he could help. She'd learned to fight, and she'd learned to do it alone. There was wisdom Trick might precede her in gaining, despite her two-year headstart in life...

She closed the distance between them quickly, finding his chin with three fingers, lifting it slightly and looking him in the eye. "I'm going to need your help on this one, Trick," she whispered, and her green eyes shone with menace when they caught the candlelight. "First... give me their names."

Patrick's stomach was in knots. Some part of him, a part that was currently hidden deeply inside himself, protested the idea of bringing harm to another being. An eye for eye was how the world around him operated, yet somehow he had managed to survive seventeen years outside of that mindset. He was good, he was kind, and he sought to see the same in others.

But these men had crossed a line. When it came to the people he called family, Patrick knew no bounds. He cared about Ed, maybe even loved him, and for that reason they needed to pay.

He squared his shoulders determinedly, flat black eyes meeting green steadily. Patrick raised his chin off her fingers and said in a low, steely voice, "Barret Betz and Wes Monroe."

Mallory withdrew her hand slowly, watching his eyes while he said the names. Usually his part in her magic was unspoken at best -- a beneficiary of her spells, without any involvement in their utterance or empowerment. But, it was him or Ed, and she only trusted Ed to spend time alone with Trick, and come to their house. She trusted Trick, period.

She raised her hand, crossing her thumb before her forefinger. "Repeat after me: Barret Betz, I forgive thee not. Black sheep, moldy chaff, burn away and rot. Wes Monroe, I forgive thee not. Black sheep, moldy chaff, burn away and rot."

He always worried about the price of Mallory's spells. Her magic seemed to take a toll on the girl, not to mention the self-harm that several of the incantations required. On some level, he disapproved. But Patrick loved her, supported her, and never got in her way, no matter how many times he wished she'd find a new path.

Tonight, he didn't even spare a second thought to what the consequences might be. Nor had he asked what would happen to Barret and Wes; he didn't care. Trick repeated the words quietly, keen and with earnest attention to every minute inflection of will.

Mallory repeated it back, and this time she felt the tug of invisible threads, like pinpricks on her fingertips that ran straight through the bone and out the other side, stretching halfway across town. That would have to be enough -- as long as Trick sustained it.

"Find some privacy," she whispered, bending to collect her takeout box. "Take a bath, make up an errand, tell him you're gonna get him a surprise -- whatever it takes -- and keep whispering those words, and I will, too. The more people say it, the better it works. Then... when you start to feel the little hairs on your arms stand on end... stop. After that, do not say their names again, not from your lips, not ever. Swear it."

Something electric zipped down the length of his spine. Patrick didn't know if it was a physical manifestation of the magic or all in his mind. Either way, he shivered and nodded. His eyes told her he understood clearly. "I promise."

Something softened in Mallory's expression, and she reached out a hand to the side of Trick's face. "There won't always be this kind of revenge. Most of the time, people just get away with this ****... but it's revenge enough, the three of us just existing. Going on with our lives. Bugs the hell out of them." She dropped her hand from his face, her gaze lowering slightly. "If this ever happens to you, remember that."

Then she walked away from him, back into the main room. There was a mumbled excuse about chasing ley lines, and one more trip to her room for supplies, before she went out into the night to stalk her victims.

[Patrick]

1-12-17

"They were acting weird at work today."

"Weird how?"

"I dunno. Twitchy. Like they didn't get enough sleep or something."

"Oh."

[Patrick]

1-15-17

Now that Ed had two chairs, sharing a meal was possible! PB&J for lunch! Plus cheap potato chips. Water and milk were the only drink options. Ed didn’t spend a lot of money on groceries, sad to say. His cupboards contained a loaf of bread, jar of not name brand peanut butter, and a box of Lucky Charms cereal. The fridge was barrenly stocked with a jug of milk, half carton of eggs, basic grape jelly, and cheese. He did own plates, a whole two that weren’t even from the same set but made of durable plastic. His cups were an odd assortment of stolen diner mugs.

Patrick sat down at the table with his freshly filled mug of milk, smiling, and pointed at the white logo printed across the dark blue ceramic. “The Crispy Biscuit is right next to where I work. I’ve even been there a few times. Do you go there a lot?” His dark eyes, brown or black, it was hard to tell, shifted from the cup to Ed’s face expectantly. He drew his leg up onto the folding chair with him, sock clad heel balanced on the very edge. He wrapped an arm around his leg, hugging it to his chest and picked up his sandwich in the other hand.

“Oh yeah? I had no idea.” Ed giggled and shook his head emphatically no. “I’ve actually never been there. I think maybe Tabitha dragged that one home.” His smile took on an awkward twist, and he stole a glance to the foot locker against the nearby wall. There was no sign of the rat at the moment. It was amazing how well she could hide in such a sparsely decorated place.

Trick looked toward the trunk, too, then back to Ed. “I was gonna say. I think I’d have remembered your face if I ever saw it before.” A shy smile twisted itself onto his face. Compliments and flirtation were still things that felt strange coming from his mouth. The flutter of discomfort and pleasure filled his stomach. He tried to smother it with a gulp of milk.

The compliment made Ed blush and smile brilliantly. “Because I’m so pretty, right?” he teased. Ed leaned back in his chair and smoothed out his sweater, which adorably declared him (or the cartoon face printed below the words) a pretty boy. A short, nasal sort of giggle escaped him after a minute, unable to maintain smug for very long.

Of course Ed was pretty. He made jokes about his flawless skin, but it was true; Trick knew girls who would probably murder someone to have a complexion like that. His eyes were gorgeous, bright and shining, crinkled at their edges from his ever present smiles. Perfectly kissable, pillowy lips that he couldn’t get enough of. And that hair. He recalled the way the silky strands slipped through his fingers the night before as they lay huddled together on his bed beneath the sea of Christmas lights.

So caught up in his thoughts was he that Patrick didn’t even realize he was staring. It was an innocent gaze, but showed clearly in his expression was just how much he agreed with Ed’s teasing. After a minute, he smirked and nodded, but didn’t say anything. He ate some of his sandwich, glancing around the room for something he hadn’t already memorized about the place.

Ed was likewise seeming to study his own apartment. The full bed with its sheets and comforter were probably the nicest things he owned. The TV tray table tucked into the corner lacked a chair at the moment, because they were using the only two (mismatched and not altogether comfortable) he owned. There was a shoebox on that table now, though, filled with small spare parts and wires. A soldering iron, unplugged, was set among the disarray of other small tinkering tools and a pair of decade old salvaged cell phones that he was currently in the middle of working on. A pair of safety glasses was also among the collection, as well as an old, small transistor radio.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ed kept watching Trick, though. His own smile was shy but also layered with a sinfully flirtatious edge. He tried not to wolf down his sandwich and chips too fast, but his mind was so otherwise caught up in daydreaming about the boy sitting right across from him that his plate was empty before he knew it. There was little left to do but crumble some of the leftover crust and drop the bits on the floor. He did that as absent-mindedly as he had parts of sweet roll during their first long walk together.

“I’m sorry I don’t have a TV or anything,” Ed said softly. Patrick immediately turned his head to stare at him.

“Don’t be sorry.” He shook his head and took another bite out of his sandwich. Trick ate slowly, but only so that he had something to keep his hands occupied.

“I mean, there’s not much to do here. I don’t have any games or anything. I only actually moved into this place shortly before I met you.” Ed leaned his elbow into the card/kitchen table, put his cheek to his knuckles, and looked again at the foot locker. It was weather worn and beat to hell, either another salvaged hand-me-down or the contents of his entire life. Perhaps a bit of both.

“I’m quiet, not bored.” The younger boy smiled wryly. “I like hanging out with you. Before I met you, I spent my time watching Spencer paint, wandering the city looking for free stuff, occasionally hanging out with some kids from the Home. I read about Earth so I can know what the heck people around me are talking about. Babysit Haley.” Trick chuckled softly and looked down at his plate. “So exciting.” Heavy sarcasm.

Patrick might not have thought so, but Ed was paying attention to him as if he was riveted to the best story of all time. Much of what the younger boy had to say made him smile. Or just looking at him made him smile. A combination of all things Trick, really, made him smile. There was no denying that he was totally smitten by the boy. Trick Richie was the most fascinating person in the universe, in his opinion.

“I read a lot about Earth too.” It was the one common denominator out of all Trick had to say that Ed could comment on. What he didn’t say was why. He wasn’t quite ready to divulge that much to the younger boy yet. With a deep breath, he pushed back from the table and stood to carry his plate and mug to the sink. “I’d hit up the Internet cafe whenever I could afford it. I’ve been thinking about building my own computer, but first: phones.” He turned away from the sink after depositing his dishes to smile at Trick and then ambled over to the bed to plop down on the edge close by the tray table of useful junk.

The younger boy’s eyes followed Ed around the room right up until he chose the bed as his next perch. Trick was suddenly interested in the small pile of chips left on his plate, pushing them around with his finger while trying to ignore the drive to get up and join the other boy. “Phones, definitely. Though I get the feeling that I’m never going to get any sleep once I have it.”

“What, you don’t think I can restrain myself from texting you all night?” They both giggled and Ed’s smile turned decidedly sly. Of course he wouldn’t be able to resist texting Trick all night, every night. He knew that about himself. He stole a playful glance Patrick’s way to judge whether or not he was likely to be similarly afflicted by the need to text all the time bug. The temptation to start working on his project right now was also very strong, but admiring Trick from across the room won out. Ed turned on the bed and stretched out on his belly, feet in colorful socks to headrest and arms folded with his chin on them at the foot of the bed.

“No, I don’t,” Trick said without looking up, though he was smiling at his plate. “I think we’re going to constantly drain the batteries and exhaust all conversation within a week.” Just thinking about all of the ridiculously adorable, sappy things he could get away with through text (because that was hella easier than saying it to the other boy’s face) made him blush. He brought a hand up to cover his smile, but tried to make it look like he had an itch on his upper lip that needed scratching. When he’d gotten his face under control, Trick looked up. “Then all I’ll have to talk about is how many boxes I stacked at work that day and you’ll get bored of me. Maybe these phones aren’t a good idea after all,” he teased.

“Hm. That does sound problematic.” Ed’s lips twisted and pursed in thought, but then he giggled and there again was the practically ever-present smile. When he lifted his head, his legs bent up behind him too, swinging slowly as he thought. “We’ll have to make a pact or something. Swear only to use them in emergencies, or to arrange meeting up times and places. I’d hate for us to run out of things to talk about, though I am curious.” Interlocking his fingers, he set his chin on them and studied Trick playfully. “How many boxes do you stack at work? On average, let’s say, since you didn’t work today.” Mischief definitely twinkled in his eyes. He probably didn’t really want to know and was just teasing the younger boy.

The playful question drew an actual laugh from the boy. Trick balled his napkin up and threw it at Ed. The urge to get up and join him on the bed was so strong he even listed in that direction, but ultimately kept his seat. The space and table between them meant they couldn’t get into trouble. Ed laughed gleefully as he swatted at the incoming napkin. He failed to land the strike, but it bounced off the foot of the bed, harmless and now mingling with the crumbs that littered the floor. Patrick did get up then, if only to clean up his mess.

“Oh you didn’t have to pick that up,” Ed sort of drawled with a slow ‘pshaw’ swipe of his hand. He thought Trick’s tidiness was cute, though, and there was a teasing note still in his voice. He smiled as he watched the younger boy pick up the napkin and take it over to the garbage. There was so much to admire in the way Patrick moved. He studied him very, very intently. Upon realizing how lustful his look was, he blinked and rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling instead. Legs crossed at the ankles, hands folded on his stomach. Behave yourself, Ed. Never mind how enticing you look just now. He couldn’t help it the bed was the only comfortable piece of furniture he owned.

“I need a couch,” he decided, upon that realization. Tilting back his head, Ed examined the room from an upside down angle. “Maybe just a loveseat. I don’t think a whole sofa would fit in here.” His apartment was so small. “Maybe a couple of armchairs instead.” Because ‘loveseat’ made him blush with just how cozy it would be; forcing them to share space and sit so close and get into all kinds of intimate trouble with each other. Goodness. He quickly resumed staring at the ceiling.

Patrick busied himself with clearing his plate and at the very least putting the dishes in the sink. It was a struggle to keep from washing them. He had his back to Ed, freeing himself of the burden of having to hide the smile that was currently plastered across his face. He might have commented, but Ed hardly gave him a chance before moving on to armchairs. They must have followed the same train of thought with the loveseat, though even the idea of a couch had filled Trick’s mind with naughty images and his mouth with sarcastic comments that never left his tongue.

Eventually he had to turn around. Patrick did so slowly, brushing his hands on the seat of his pants and stared across the room where Ed lay sprawled out on the bed. The table drew his gaze for a moment, wondering if he should be responsible by choosing to sit back down there instead of joining Ed on the bed. Gripped with indecision, Trick worried at the inside of his cheek.

“Do you smoke in here?” He asked suddenly in an abrupt change of topic. So smooth, Patrick. “Or do you go outside?”

“Outside,” Ed answered instantly. He tipped back his head again to peer upside down at Trick, shoulders lifted off the bed. “The ventilation in here’s crap, and Mrs. Oglesby upstairs complains. Says it upsets her asthma. She’ll bang on the floor if she can smell it.” Suddenly, he rolled aside and kicked his legs off the side of the bed that the tray table was not on; he couldn’t often sit still for more than a minute (unless Trick was in his bubble). “Did you want one?” He was ready and willing to put on his shoes and step out if that’s what Patrick wanted to do.

“I…” Trick trailed off, looking to the door, then at Ed who was getting ready to get up. He didn’t want to drag the guy all the way outside for something he didn’t even really need right then. It was just a poor excuse to curb his hormonal urges. The younger boy quickly shook his head and pushed away from the kitchen sink, moving confidently toward the bed. “No, it’s fine. I was just--wondering.” Sort of. “So where would you put a couch slash loveseat slash set of chairs?”

Seeing Trick make his way closer made the older boy smile a whole heck of a lot more. Ed scooted over to make room on the foot of the bed and turned to pull his legs back up onto it. He sat cross-legged, back to the headrest though not touching it, and scanned his small living room.

“I think maybe I’d get one of those slim, tall, breakfast nook tables with the stools and push it up against the wall. That’d make room for a couch or something. I could put it so the back faced the kitchen. Then I’d have to get something to put against the wall so we wouldn’t be staring at bricks all the time.” He giggled at the thought, reminded of when Trick said his idea of fun was watching paint dry. “Maybe a TV.” He shrugged, because television wasn’t a necessity in his opinion. “With a video player for sure.” He did like movies, though!

Trick climbed onto the bed, scooting all the way to the back so he could lean his spine against the cinderblock wall. He folded his legs beneath him and set his fingers to task fraying the already tattered tears in his jeans. That would keep him from reaching for Ed for a while. “If not a TV, then maybe we could get Spencer to paint the wall. She’s really good at it. Her next project is a wall in my room; if you like it, and you don’t mind her coming over someday, she could brighten the place up with some paint.”

For a brief moment, horror flashed over Ed’s face. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I mean. I’m renting. I’m not sure if the landlord would like that. Though I think there’s something about ‘just make sure you paint over it with white when you leave’ on the lease. Replace bulbs.” His brain was cycling through all the coulds and could nots of a renter’s life. “Or else it’ll be taken out of your deposit sort of thing.”

“You don’t have to,” Patrick interjected gently, glancing aside at the older boy with a smile.

Ed looked aside at him and mirrored his smile. “I’ll think about it. I don’t know what I’d want her to paint, or is that something she comes up with on her own? We’ll see.” There was a pause as his eyes wandered overhead, and he looked back at the wall behind them with a lift of his hand. “I am going to string some lights up here, though. Like I did in your room. Maybe not so many colors. I don’t know if I want all white, or multicolor like I did for you. Whatever I can find, I guess.”

Patrick was smiling. He couldn’t help it. “What was it that made you hang those lights in my room?” Both of his hands went still in his lap.

The older boy’s shoulders lifted and his arms flopped in a slapping kind of shrug. “I don’t know.” He scratched his cheek, days old faded bruise itching as much as a quirk of deep thought. “I can’t even remember anymore if it was before or after Christmas when you said Christmas was your favorite time of year. Or when you told me your favorite color was neon, like the lights in Stars End. I got you the sign, though, because of that part.” He shook his finger at Trick and nodded with a somewhat smug little smile.

Trick’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, nowhere near ready to share with Ed the reason for his love of light.

“I just saw them in a box on one of our runs and thought to myself, ‘Hey! I bet Trick would like these.’ I even kind of told Howard that, without mentioning your name or anything. He thinks I’m weird because of all the junk I salvage when we’re working.” A giggly, breathy laugh escaped Ed’s mouth at that, and he shook his head. “It’s not just that, though. He thinks I’m all around weird, but he’s a nice guy.” After all, Howard had stood up for him.

“Oh!” Ed suddenly remembered. “We’re supposed to have dinner with them tonight, too, by the way.” He stole a cautious, sideways look at Trick.

Bringing up Howard brought with it a jumble of emotion: guilt and anger specifically. Trick looked away from Ed, refusing to meet the other boy’s eyes. “You were serious about that, huh?” He forced himself to chuckle, to lighten up and make a joke out of it.

(to be continued...)

[Patrick]

(cont.)

“Oh noooo. I wasn’t serious, but Mrs. Howard was deadly so.” Ed’s eyes were wide, thinking ahead in terror at how the older woman might hunt him and do horrible things if he dared refuse her dinner invitation!

“Guess this is the closest either of us’ll ever get to experiencing that whole ‘meet the parents’ anxiety?” Trick chuckled again, a little more honestly this time. He took the chance to seek Ed’s eyes with his own, hoping to God he didn’t look guilty as hell.

Ed immediately broke into a minor gigglefit, so eye contact did not last very long. “Yeah, well! I already met your mom the day I met you, remember?” He was referring to Mallory and how he had mistakenly, or not, identified her as the matron of the house. He shivered, because regardless of how nice Mal was to him the girl still terrified him. He could just feel her witchy vibes. “I guess Mrs. Howard’s kind of my new mom.” He eyed the foot locker from across the room, cautiously, adding, “Sort of.”

“At least your fake mom pushes food on you instead of condoms like Mal.” It was the strangest thing. He knew long before he finished speaking that he shouldn’t finish the sentence, but Patrick couldn’t get his mouth to stop running. The boy’s eyes widened. Inwardly he scrambled to find something to say that would smooth it over. “Food’s better. Way… better.” That was all kinds of fail. And it was a lie. He was a big, fat liar.

And oh my goodness did Ed’s cheeks turn red. He lifted both hands to cover his face and loosed a strongly muffled gigglefit into his palms. He bent forward at the waist over his criss-crossed legs, smashing his hands and face into the mattress. There wasn’t much he could say in response to that. His brain couldn’t think of anything. So he just laughed. Let it all out. He’d need to quit and come up for air eventually, just … not right now.

“Wow.” Patrick groaned, covering his face and a laugh with both hands.

Ed was still giggling when he did come up for air. He swayed back upright, dropping his hands from his face, and turned at the waist to lean into Patrick’s space. The giggling had quieted down, but his breath could be felt on Trick’s cheek when the older boy pressed a kiss there. He was smiling like a lunatic, because this topic of conversation definitely just turned crazy, but it was okay!

The kiss sent an electric current down the back of his neck and spine, causing Trick to straighten up and drop his hands away from his face. His smile was shy now, but he let Ed see it. “Seriously, though. She handed me a whole sleeve of them the first time you spent the night. Enduring the pity of a lady who’ll look at me like a poor little homeless boy is a thousand times less embarrassing than that.”

“I would’ve died of embarrassment in your shoes. I’m glad you didn’t tell me.” Ed tilted back into his own space, head turned to look away, and scratched his cheek. Shifting his weight to sit up on his own, he reached over with his free hand to feel for Trick’s fingers, and when he found them he gave them a squeeze before looking back with a smile.

Ed shattered the invisible wall of protection that stood between them. Patrick softened the instant their fingers met, his insides turning to jello. He wasn’t letting go of that hand now that he had it, tugging it over into his own lap, coming to a rest on his thigh. “I’ve never been invited to dinner at someone’s house before. Is this something I should dress nicer for?” He looked down at his pants, but wound up smiling at their hands instead. “We’ll have to hit up a thrift store if that’s the case.”

“Maybe your pants,” Ed mused. His eyes landed on their hands, too, and just past them he could see all the fraying. “I like them, but Mrs. Howard might decide she wants to swap you into a pair of Howard’s big old pants so she can sew patches on them or something. I don’t know!” Ed giggled some more, throwing up his hands. Well, one for sure. He only lifted Trick’s hand off the younger boy’s thigh a little on that side.

“That’s something Sister Mabel would’ve done if she saw you.” Which had him squirming his hand out of Trick’s grasp almost instinctively and darting a wary glance around. He quickly recovered from his mental blast from the past and scooted over even closer to Trick’s side. See, he’d only taken his hand away so he could do that, turn to face the younger boy, and give him both his hands instead! Yeah, that’s it.

Thought it made him feel like a bit of a horn dog to be in a state of constant arousal around Ed, Trick was willing to suffer the mild discomfort because being near the other boy was also one of the best feelings in the world. He smiled when Ed scooted closer, and leaned closer to the other boy himself, which left little distance between their faces.

“Where do they live? I’ve got some khakis at home I could grab which would save us time. Wouldn’t have to leave early to go shopping.” It was going to be hard enough to give up alone time and leave this bed now that they were on it together. Patrick licked his lips, subconsciously thinking about kissing Ed, but trying so hard to prolong giving in to the urge. He squeezed the older boy’s hands, rubbing the pad of his thumb across the ridge of Ed’s knuckles.

“They have a little house on the other side of the district.” Old Temple, he meant, but Ed was terribly distracted by the sight of Patrick’s tongue sneaking out to wet his lips. The older boy was thinking about kissing, too. At this point it was unavoidable. Trick’s touch flooded his nerves with an electrified warmth. The younger boy’s desire for him was definitely palpable. So intense it started his heart racing and his imagination running wild. A reflexive blink snapped him out of it briefly. Ed turned his head, biting down on his lower lip. After worrying his lip for a few seconds, he took a deep breath, smiled, and looked back. Must put on a brave face. They could do this behaving thing, right? No. Nope. Couldn’t do it. Ed’s eyes found Trick’s mouth again and he leaned in to kiss him. Resistance was futile.

Trick could feel the sexual tension growing between them; he didn’t have to be looking at Ed’s face to know it was happening. Anticipation colored his cheeks, making his skin grow warm and his breathing become shallow. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ed lean in and turned his face to meet the boy halfway.

The first glance of their lips was soft, but he’d yet to discover how to reign himself in at all. He was a suped-up car and whoever was in the driver’s seat had a lead foot pressed down hard on the accelerator. Trick traded one of Ed’s hands for the back of the boy’s neck instead, tugging him securely into the hard kiss that followed the first. The older boy squeaked a muffled, surprised noise of pure pleasure like he almost always did, but Trick broke the kiss to exhale raggedly and tipped his head so their foreheads met. The one hand trembled with restraint where it was curved around the back of Ed’s neck.

“What’s wrong?” Ed whispered, his own breath unsteady. A thousand doubts and sudden insecurities were threatening to weigh him down the second Trick expressed hesitation. Was he doing something wrong? Was Trick getting bored with just kissing all the time? His cheeks flushed hot and red and he drew back his chin to study Patrick’s face urgently.

“Mm.” It was a muffled, almost whining sound that vibrated in the back of Trick’s throat. He opened his eyes to look at Ed, then quickly looked away, finding it too difficult to meet the other boy’s eyes. “Nothing’s wrong,” he insisted. His thoughts were running a mile a minute, playing through everything he wanted to say and explain to Ed as though the tape were being fast forwarded in his head. All of his worries and fears and concerns about the things he was currently being made to feel were right there on the tip of his tongue, but the greater fear of being laughed at or looked down on made it seem safer to keep all those things locked up nice and tight.

Right now all Ed had to work with was the sudden cessation of passionate kissing, and that caused him to worry extraordinarily. He reached up to hook his fingers over Trick’s wrist, silently and gently urging him to maybe loosen up his hold, just so he could withdraw a little further, see his face more clearly. Concern etched into the lines of his face and a stone dropped to the pit of his stomach. This was the worst. What he’d been dreading. That Patrick was going to get tired of him because they were taking things so slow.

“What is it?” Ed’s whisper shivered with him, terrified that his fears were going to be made real and this was the moment Trick broke up with him because he was bored.

“You just--” The younger boy paused to swallow and come up with something else to say. “You make it really hard to keep from wanting to skip dinner at Mrs. Howard’s tonight.” That was not a lie. “All I can think about is staying here and kissing you all night because I don’t want to share any of my day off with anyone else.” Another truth. It wasn’t the whole truth, but he wasn’t making things up. “Aaaand I guess that makes me feel a little guilty.”

In the back of Ed’s head, relief exploded. He exhaled heavily. Oh thank God. He’s not bored of me. But just to be absolutely sure, he asked, “You’re not bored of me?”

Trick’s eyes widened in shock. Though he’d slackened his grip around Ed’s neck earlier when the boy had urged him to, now his hand slipped away entirely. “Bored?!” An incredulous chuckle bubbled out of Trick before he could stop it.

“It’s just-- I mean--” Ed’s shoulders lifted to protect his ears as he slouched defensively. His own hand dropped away from Trick’s wrist. He looked down and watched his own fingers tug on the fringe of the younger boy’s jeans. “All we do is kiss, and… and sometimes… you know.” He couldn’t help but look right into Trick’s lap. The exact word for what they did was not part of his vocabulary. It wasn’t exactly sex, but kind of was, but wasn’t, and he didn’t know what to call it other than feeling incredibly nice when they did it! And all this rattling around in his brain made him blush furiously.

Patrick had likewise gone red in response to the implication made. It would have been a tragedy to let Ed go on thinking that he was bored of that, though. His wanting to do more than that had nothing to do with being bored. Quite the opposite.

“Ed, no. I’m not-- I’m not bored. Not even…” The younger boy drew in an unsteady breath and shook his head minutely. “Not even a little bit, okay? I’m just. Um. It gets really hard to stop when we’re, like, in the moment, you know?” This was a terrifying conversation. It felt like he was going to suffocate. Patrick pulled in another deep breath and looked around the room while squeezing Ed’s hands.

Looking up, Ed nodded emphatically. Oh yes. He knew.

“I’m afraid…” Patrick’s voice trailed off, faced now with sharing exactly what had been on his mind to begin with. How had this happened?

“So am I,” Ed whispered in the wake of Trick’s words.

“I just don’t want to accidentally do more than you want. More than I want. I honestly didn’t even think I’d ever be doing… what we have with someone I’ve been dating for less than a month. I didn’t know it was this hard.” It had all just sort of spilled out.

“Is it--” Ed’s brows pulled together as he puzzled through it. “Are we going too fast? Should we… should we back off maybe? Slow down? Is there something I’m doing you don’t like? I… I don’t know--”

“No, no, no--” Trick said, shaking his head emphatically. “It’s not… I don’t want to back off. What I’m trying to say is that before I met you, I had this idea in my head of how things would go when I met the right person.” He leaned away, but tightened his grip on the other boy’s hands to try and signal that he didn’t want to stop, just pause for the time being so they could talk things out. They’d already started, they might as well see it through. “You meet someone, you’re friends for a while before making the jump to dating, and getting physical only happened after you’re in love.” How he’d managed to get that out was a mystery, and that magical word ‘love’ made Ed’s brows lift. Oh boy. Patrick held Ed’s hands captive tightly within his own, his gaze trained on their entwined fingers intently. He’d managed to succeed in making it sound like admitting these things aloud wasn’t completely gutting him, but inwardly the boy was a wreck. “And then you come along and it’s so much better than I imagined.” These words were soft. Trick exhaled slowly, and with it, released the tension along his shoulders, allowing them to relax. He looked up into Ed’s face; the older boy had devoted all his attention to him, and seemed to be holding his breath. “I like you a lot. I just don’t want to accidentally do something that scares you away because I’m having trouble in the moment of reminding myself to slow down.”

I like you a lot. Ed had trouble hearing anything else. Those words sounded very much like a veiled message. Maybe he was just being hopeful, but his heart soared. That tingling warmth spread through his body. He smiled like a dope, beyond smitten with just how thoughtful and kindhearted Patrick was. Never in a million years had Ed imagined ever meeting a guy like him, let alone dating him. In his experience the universe was full of sticklers and perverts, very little in between. He’d managed to dodge bullets from both sides, and now here he was.

“I want to say, and I… I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, okay? But I… I have to tell you, you scare me a little anyway. But it’s because I don’t… I don’t want you to stop. In the moment. When we’re kissing, and… and you know.” Ed averted his gaze and looked down at their hands. He pulled Trick’s over to his own lap then let them go, tugging on his wrists instead to guide the younger boy’s fingers to the hem of his sweater, taunting or inviting him to dip them underneath and feel his skin.

It didn’t take anything more than that for Patrick to slip his fingers under that pretty, light blue sweatshirt. Its message was such an understatement in Trick’s eyes. Ed was more than pretty. He was beautiful, but that was another one of those words he wasn’t sure he could force past his lips. Instead, he let his fingers do the talking, slipping across the boy’s velvety smooth skin at either hip and squeezing gently.

“I want you to touch me, Patrick.” It was a whispery quiet confession. Ed was nervous. The room was too warm and he was dressed too appropriately to blame his shiver on a chill. Trick’s exploratory touches were entirely at fault. “What scares me is how badly I want you…” Could almost hear the ‘to’ that he cut off abruptly, consciously, realizing at the last minute that what he wanted went beyond touch. He looked up shyly, and softly added, “Just you. I just want you.”

Patrick leaned in, using a combination of his imposing build (though it was only so in relation to Ed’s) and the gently urging tilt of his wrists to make the other boy lie back. Ed easily complied, though his heart instantly started racing and his breathing shook unsteadily. Patrick lowered himself down on top of him and pressed a kiss against Ed’s lips that he meant to calm him down, not really thinking through the fact that it would likely have the opposite effect, made evident when Ed quietly moaned his pleasure.

He pushed his hands further up Ed’s sides, then broke their kiss. “You make it really hard to be good when you say things like that.”

“I can’t help it. I’m sorry.” Ed wasn’t the least bit sorry, actually. He hesitantly touched his fingers to Trick’s upper arms, then on second thought set his hands to the back of the younger boy’s neck and shoulders to pull him back down into another kiss.