This was it. After two months of procrastination, this was the big day. This was, arguably, one of the most important moments of Nico’s life– right up there with the first time he carried his little sister and the first time he kissed a boy and the first time he got a positive review on a published story– and his palms were the sweatiest things in the world. Dressed in what he imagined smart, successful older brothers were meant to wear (see: a long coat, a sweater vest, stylish jeans, and boots laced to perfection), he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, listing various options for what he wanted to say in his mind.
> Hi there, are you Terence?
> Hey, little guy, is Terence Woods home?
> Terence, it’s me! Your long lost big brother!
> Guess who I am, eh? Hint: look at this devilishly handsome grin.
> Please don’t close the door on me.
Of course, there was the ever prevalent reality that silence was a valid option, but having spoken at some length with Terence’s adopted father and making sure he wouldn’t be home when Nico came knocking at the door, he had a feeling a tall stranger standing at Terence’s front door would be some cause for alarm. He had to think of something before he rang the bell. He had to think of something brilliant, and witty, and funny and charming and perfect so his little brother would like him instantly, or else he would die.
And when he figured it out, Nico rang the bell.
He was going to be fine. Terence was going to be fine. This entire first meeting was going to be fine, and Nico was going to nail it; his coat was stylish and black and the collar of his button down was folded perfectly over the collar of his sweater, and he looked smart and professional instead of homeless and dangerous. There was no conceivable reason for Terence to be afraid of him, and everything was going to be…
Naturally, whatever thoughts he might have had screeched to a halting stop the moment the door opened. Instead, Nico found himself frozen solid as his eyes fell onto the little brother he never knew he had.
“I–” His throat tightened with emotion, blue eyes turbulent for all of a moment before he swallowed hard and tried to compose himself. “I… my name’s N… I’m Nicolas W… Woods, my name is Nicolas Woods, and I think, uh, you’re–
“Are you Terence? Terence Woods?”
(Perhaps silence was the most valid option, indeed.)
In the end, Terence was quite used to his father not being around the house - especially in the early evening. Gorman’s often kept Harrison busy, especially this time of year with the summer heating up the Beaumont air and choking out everyone’s car. Automobiles could only handle so much climate change, and Terence was pretty sure the ones in America were designed to break apart once or twice a year anyway.
So, as it were, Terence was snuggling with Daisy on the couch, thoroughly enjoying his newfound freedom. May had finally arrived, and with it would come Terence’s graduation day. Tomorrow, in fact. While his school was the absolute last to host the ceremony, he didn’t mind because the last week or so his classes were no longer in session. It was odd, only having his job at Smoley’s to worry about. Today happened to be his first full day off in a long while, so he planned to do absolutely nothing until his - date - with Tiffani later (that would probably take another ten years to get used to).
Lazily flipping through an old mystery book he’d never had the time to read before, Terence certainly wasn’t expecting the doorbell to ring. Daisy sat up and tilted her ears, then looked back at Terence with an almost inquisitive expression. “What? I dunno who it is, either.” Promptly putting his book face-down on the blankets, the rather confused young man made his way to the front door of his and Harrison’s home.
Upon opening it, his first impression was that this rather well-dressed man had stumbled across the wrong place. Everything about him was perfect, from his charming face down to the crisp, expensive looking black jacket. Terence felt suddenly very self-conscious in his worn out, plaid pajama pants and ragged old Peter Pan t-shirt. Trying to cover himself up, Terence hugged himself as he listened to the older man try to form a sentence, or a question (something Terence understood immensely).
Terence’s second impression was that this man seemed very... sad. Or confused? Nervous. He was very emotional about something, and then the utterance of his name made Terence stand up a little straighter. Woods...? Nicholas Woods? Something about that name tinkled a bell in the back of his mind. It wasn’t often he met people with the same last name as him, and Terence was rather sure that he never came across another in Beaumont, of all places. To say this peaked Terence’s interest was an awful understatement.
Tilting his head to the side, Terence finally offered a firm nod. “Yes, I am Terence Woods.” Eyes crinkled in confusion, he asked, “And... who are you?” He was fully aware that the other had already said his name, but Terence suddenly felt very sure that there was more this man wanted than to offer his name.
