It's the secrets that kill you inside...

"Most people just call me Drew." -indie night shift rp blog- • my ranger • a thousand lives

[sapphirescales-archive-blog]

& tohideinplainsight

[sapphirescales-archive-blog]

     That’s optimistic of you.

[tohideinplainsight]

"Shit, y'think? But like, imagine his face. Bouquet of flowers, lookin' all slick, and bam, he don't know how to take it. S'good right?"

[armydoccallahan]

    For someone so new to it, Andrew’s a natural. The way he presses in close is perfect. TC’s cursing every inch of space between them like it’s offending him personally, because in a way, it has. It’s between him and what he wants, and as many have found, that’s not a wise place to be.

   But he can’t be bothered too much, because nothing can take away the feeing of Andrew’s lips on his, his hands searching for purchase until they finally find their resting place.

   If Andrew never wants to stop him, that would be perfect with TC. “Just don’t be afraid to,” he says. He wants Andrew to be comfortable with him; he never wants to hurt him or push him too far too fast. He wants to be good to him. Good for him. He just wants to be good, for once in his life. “I promise I won’t take it personally.”

   He offers it with a smile, and then he leans in and steals another quick kiss.

   ”I know we should be going inside soon,” he says, “but I’d really rather play hooky and skip Divination. I can sift through tea leaves at breakfast.” He’s liking this too much, and it’s not like there are any misconceptions about his feelings toward the class. He and Trelawney have an understanding: she’d pretend she didn’t notice his absence and stop predicting his gruesome death whenever he did deign to show up, and he wouldn’t tell anybody about the stash of fire whiskey and cooking sherry she keeps in the Room of Requirement.

[tohideinplainsight]

For once Andrew finds himself agreeing with TC.

Standing there pressed in close with his arms around broad shoulders there's a hint of a shy smile on his lips. Ducking his head to the warmth of the other boy's throat, he hides away the slight blush and the growing smile. TC's lips still linger as a ghost at the corners of his mouth, a warm pressure that makes his stomach twist in happy little flips.

"We don't have to go."

Fingers snare into the warmth of fabric and Andrew can almost feel the warmth of TC's pulse as his own. Lifting his head, he looks at the other boy and bites his lip to hold back stupid words. Words that say too much too fast and swell hotly at his chest with a desire to set free.

'I'd run away with you anywhere if you asked.'

Instead he releases his lip and a slight smile of sorts takes hold. "In fact," he begins, "I don't think they'll miss us much. More tea leaves and all." It doesn't stop the way his hands smooth down TC's chest, or how his eyes go soft and thoughtful. Andrew dares to lean up, to press in close once more, and steal another kiss. In a moment of bravery with no small amount of heat swelling to his cheeks, he utters quiet words.

"Maybe you could show me your dormitory...?"

[armydoccallahan]

"Do I?" He does, in fact. Third shelf in the supply closet, on the right. "I guess you just wear them better." His smile is equal parts teasing and suggestive. He loves seeing the blush creep up the tips of Drew’s ears; he considers it a personal mission to see it as often as possible. 

He turns, leaning his hip on the counter and crossing his arms. “You might’ve said all that, eh?” he says, leaning in until his lips nearly brush the shell of Drew’s blush-reddened ears. “Because I might’ve told you it’s already locked.” 

Never say TC didn’t learn anything from his time in the boyscouts: always be prepared. 

Biting his lip, he makes a show of running his eyes up and down Drew’s lean frame before reaching out to pluck the front of Drew’s scrubs. “And I might’ve told you it’d be a shame to waste ten perfectly good minutes.” 

[tohideinplainsight]

Oh.

Never let it be said that Rangers never act without preparing. He almost tells TC as much, but then Drew is reminded they only have ten minutes. Is it enough? Of course not. Even as the blush crawls ruddy and splotched across his cheeks he knows it'll never be enough.

The way those fingers touch is enough to have him setting the clipboard on the nearest shelf. "What a shame you didn't say something sooner Tee," come half whispered words as his gaze slides slowly along the skin bared under his hands.

TC's shirt is the first thing to go.

"Might've had fifteen instead."

It still wouldn't stop the way his pulse quickened and pupils dilated. Jokes aside, Drew can't help but think it's a small miracle being able to remain immune to his Ranger's charms. Now though, now they're on the clock, and he rushes forward in the space between them.

Boxes of gauze sway as his elbow knocks the shelf, fingers carding into TC's hair as Drew crushes their lips together leaving behind the pants those nimble fingers saw fit to untie. Normally, he wouldn't be this daring, but it's so rare they're granted peace and after the week from hell Drew just wants to feel those hands.

"C'mon Ranger," he breathes out between their lips, "Impress me."

[armydoccallahan]

TC doesn’t really know what he’s hoping to accomplish here. With Andrew’s mutation, checking for a temperature seems kind of like a moot point. But maybe he thinks, after all this time, he’s gotten kind of used to how hot he runs. Even if it’s higher than an average person’s normally, he thinks he would notice the difference. 

And he does. As his hand rests against Andrew’s brow, he feels more heat than usual against the his fingers. The sweat and shortness of breath are enough to have him worried, but the fever is even more troubling. As high as Andrew burns normally, he can’t help wondering how much more is too much, especially over a sustained period of time. 

"Molly, I’m taking exam room 3," he calls over his shoulder, and then he’s got an arm around Andrew’s waist to steer him to it. Hopefully, it’ll be easier there. Less people making Andrew jumpy, less crowds to worry about. 

He guides him to the exam bed and holds him steady. “Go ahead and hop up, okay?” he says, pressing a kiss to Andrew’s burning brow. “You and I are gonna play doctor for a little bit, and I’m not taking no for an answer.” Obviously not; he’s already got his stethoscope out, ready to get a better listen to Andrew’s labored breath. 

[tohideinplainsight]

It's easier to calm down when the bussing of voices doesn't leave him feeling like he needs to run, he needs to get away. Andrea would've laughed at how silly he was being but his sister didn't know the cruelty of people as he did. But then there's TC, who catches hold of him and quells the panic bubbling thickly up. "You ain't asking me on a date first? Shit Doc, 'm flattered but I ain't that kind a girl," Andrew is valiantly saying, trying to lighten the mood.

Heavy eyes fall close when those lips press to his forehead, causing him to shiver with how cold everything feels.

Another shallow breath and he manages to clamor up onto the bed as requested. It's hard to hide the grimace as his fingers meet metal and it feels like ice, burning against his skin. His vision is so blurred he doesn't notice the railing melting away like water under his hands. "Doc," there's something vulnerable in his voice, something fragile.

"I-- Everything i-is freezing. And I--"

At first he'd thought it'd just been him and the dizziness of his mind. But it's more than that. Andrew can't tell where up and down is or where his hands are resting. All he knows is the bitter feeling of ice against his skin that's beginning to make him shiver. Panic threaten to swells up and that instinct to run, to hide away in some dark corner, rises right alongside it.

"I c-can't--"

Andrew swallows thickly and reaches out, eyes open but threatening to tunnel out into black. But it doesn't change a thing. Doesn't change the way his brows knit and the way his voices becomes small.

He's scared.

"I can't see you."

[armydoccallahan]

TC wouldn’t have been much of a doctor if he didn’t notice the thin sheen of sweat on Andrew’s face or the flush on his cheeks. He doesn’t know as much about the mechanics of Andrew’s mutation as he wishes he did, but he gets the feeling there’s something off about it. 

"Guess so. ‘cept I’ve always been more of a dog person, myself." 

His voice is casual, but his expression is intent. There’s definitely something wrong with Andrew, and he’s never been very good at being anything less than direct. He steps in closer, not quite cornering Andrew but squaring with him.

"Hey, I’m gonna feel your head for a fever, okay? Try not to singe me if you can help it. And if you can’t, well    don’t worry about it. C’mere.” 

[tohideinplainsight]

"...'m a stray dog then?" The words are hushed with a shallow little laugh. It speaks volumes that Andrew's eyes don't immediately dart away and towards the room looking for the nearest exit when TC stands in front of him. Instead the heat seems to dissipate as he focuses upon doing as requested. It seems pointless, feeling for a fever when Andrew's body already runs hotter than normal.

"Y'sure? I mean, I ain't saying anything against ya but shit, y'know how my body is..."

Pushing away from casually leaning against the wall, he has to close his eyes to force his mutation down. It's difficult, like pushing his hands in ice, but some little part of him doesn't want to burn TC. The doc didn't deserve it. Drew draws a shallow breath and steps a little closer, sweat running down his brow.

But after so long, who else would know him better than TC?

Trust comes easy after that.

"Alright Doc, should be good."

[armydoccallahan]

"I’m not staring at your ass. But if I was, I would have to tell you that I owe your clothing store a big thank you. If I was looking at your ass, that is.” 

Which he is. He definitely is. It’s a slow night in the E.R. and they’re stuck doing inventory in the patient rooms for when shit inevitably hits the fan. But for now, there’s no crisis. There’s just him and Drew and a little bit of time to kill. 

[tohideinplainsight]

Okay so here he is trying to be serious and pay attention to his clipboard when there's this attractive asshole at his left elbow whispering hilarious filth. God help him, Drew is hiding a slight grin and dipping his head with a huff of breath. It's the most laughter he utters, as if not to jinx the moment of peace they've got.

"You should know, Tee, you get your scrubs from the same place."

Shoved away in the storage closet with TC isn't bad, and Drew tries not to look too excited when they get assigned to the 'shit job'. Because it means he can elbow the other man with a hint of a smile and hide the way his ears go red at the compliment.

So maybe he's a bit shy even if they're along behind a closed door. Alone.

"But, you know, you weren't looking and all. But if you were I might've told you that there's a lock on the door and ten minutes no one will look for us."

[armydoccallahan]

"Andrew? What are you doing here? I mean, it’s not that I’m not happy to see you   trust me, I’m always over the moon to see your smiling face. I’m just not used to seeing it here.” 

There’s a little part of him that’s worried; there’s a little part of him that’s always worried. But he hides it well, behind a crooked smile and a lot of words. 

[tohideinplainsight]

"Hey you know me," though he's a bit breathless and there's clammy cold sweat on his brow. His skin is burning up and everyone who comes too close seems to skirt away as fast as possible. Apparently they don't feel safe around a mutant that can literally ignite things.

Much less when said mutant has a fever.

"I can never stay away from you. What was it that lady doc said? About strays and cats? Yeah, guess that shit's true an' all."

[armydoccallahan]

  It wasn’t just one thing. It was the Fourth of July, and after nearly getting run off the road on his way in, getting his ass chewed by Scott for being late, and spending the better part of the shift listening to the cracks and bangs of fireworks that don’t sound much like fireworks to him, he’s already dancing on the edge of disaster.

  The drunk bastard with the half-burnt best friend is the tipping point.

  He’s okay. There’s nothing he can do to help the victim; the burns were too bad, and there was severe head trauma, but he at least knows he did something, even if it was just loading him up with enough morphine to ease his passing. But then his big friend is snarling and spitting curses, and when he starts swinging, TC topples over that edge. He gets the guy to the ground, and it’s fight or die, because he saw the knife, and he knows his training.

   But then he’s being hauled back, and TC needs them to stop fucking touching him right the fuck now, but they just keep pushing in, until    

   Come back.

   It’s as much the sound of his voice as the feel of his firm grip on the back of TC’s neck that makes him slow. Not stop, but slow. “He had a knife,” he explains, breathless and a little desperate. He pushes halfheartedly at Drew’s chest as another dull crack thunders in the distance. “He had a knife, and it’s not safe.” He’s shaking his head fervently, his whole body tightening at another boom from outside. It’s relentless, and he can smell the gunpowder, mixed with burning flesh and smoke. “I had to   it’s not safe.”

[tohideinplainsight]

   The unfortunate downside of 4th of July was the echoing gunshot-like popping of fireworks setting off. It was enough to have him tensed, gods knew how bad it was for TC right now. All he can do is keep his hands on the other man, keep him focused upon the here and now. “I know,” Drew whispers softly, still forehead to forehead and keeping his voice steady, gentle. “What are you doing here Tee? You should be home.” There’s a smile given despite it feeling forced. They were short handed as it was but Drew was ready to go and drag TC back home into bed, into his arms that didn’t smell like gun powder or burnt flesh.

   Fingers smooth through TC’s hair and he glances around. No one is around, thank god, and they seemed to have the good sense to give Drew enough room to work, to coax TC into following him into an empty patient room. It smells of antiseptic and the door offers some privacy from the shouting, the low din of voices echoing through the halls.

   “Come here,” Drew says quietly, “Come here to me.”

   The lock flicks into place with a soft snap and he dims the lights. Hushing TC as carefully as he can, Drew leans in and presses a soft kiss to the corner of the other’s lips. “You’re not there Tee,” the words are a soft hush, hands wandering, smoothing over familiar features.

   “You’re home.”

[tohideinplainsight]

   It all happens so suddenly that he isn't sure how to react at first. Panic makes his throat go tight. There are raised voices across the ER and mention of TC's name reaches his ears. Drew doesn't even think when he pushes past people and walks into the hurricane that's TC. Hands snake out, pushing aside limbs and gripping at the other man's nape.

   At first he doesn't say anything.

   Drew keeps them forehead to forehead, brows knit together tightly. Fingers press in tighter and he focuses on the shallow breaths. There are voices and someone is shouting but he's focused on the way TC feels beneath his hands.

   "Hey," he whispers, "come back."

[armydoccallahan]

   He’s playing it cool, but TC doesn’t breathe until he feels Andrew relax into his arms. There was a part of him that was afraid   no, terrified that he was going to push him away, that he’d messed this up for good. Because he’s messed up a lot of things, especially lately, and he isn’t sure he could deal with this being on that list.

   He watches him wipe at his tears with unsteady-looking hands and wishes he had some sort of handkerchief or something to offer up. His eyes are still shiny and red, and his cheeks are all flushed. It’d be adorable, he thinks, if it wasn’t because he’s been crying.

   It still … kinda is.

   Drew’s just so shy. He always has been, but this is different. TC doesn’t want him to be anxious, but there’s a certain rush in anticipation. He feels it, too, and it’s good. Brilliant. He smiles, pulling his sleeve up over his hand to get the last of the tear tracks drying on Drew’s red cheeks.

   “‘Course I want to,” he tells him, hand lingering on Drew’s cheek. He likes touching him. He likes being close to him. He just wants Drew to like it as much as he does. “I want to be sure you do, Dee.” He takes a breath, earnest. “I just … I really don’t want to mess this up, Dee. So if I ever … if I ever go too fast, tell me. If I ever say something stupid, just    I dunno, hit me upside the head with something.” He smiles a little, and leans in a little. “Okay? ‘Cause you’re kind of incredible, Dee.”

   And then he kisses him like he should have the first time, soft and slow, and prays he’ll somehow manage not to mess this up.

[tohideinplainsight]

   Andrew wishes he could believe him. That all those words were easy to swallow down between their lips. Because he isn't incredible, not by a long shot. Even though he can almost let himself believe it, there's still that doubt, that worry, that he'll be the one to mess this up. TC could never ruin this, he tells himself as he breathes the other boy in and stifles a quiet noise akin to a whimper when their lips meet.

   It's different this time, not chaste or rushed.

   Color rises further in his cheeks and he finds himself pushing forward, hands fumbling along the space between them. He's unsure where to put them, what to do with his hands, until finally fingers cup the curve of the other boy's jaw to keep him close. Soon those soft little kisses aren't enough but he doesn't know how to ask for more much less what more is. Andrew listens to his gut as he shifts a bit on his feet to press in closer, arms circling about shoulders.

   Fingers card through hair and he draws back long enough to suck in a shaky breathe of air. Leaning in, words die on the tip of his tongue, broken syllables are pressed against the curve of TC's lips with each small lingering kiss.

   "I'm not," he argues breathlessly, forehead pressed to forehead.

   "And-- you couldn't. I...I've wanted this, you, so long now...I don't think I c-could stop you." Once more the words snare up, thick and heavy in his throat, as he cradles TC's face. Apologies rush forward and he feels like such a fool for panicking, for wanting to hide when those kisses settled the ache in his chest.

   "I don't want to," Andrew confesses.

[armydoccallahan]

   The tears welling in Andrew’s eyes are worse than any pain TC’s ever felt, any curse he’s ever been under. He lifts a hand from Andrew hips and cups his cheek, thumbing away the droplets that escape to roll down his cheeks. He’s desperate. He wants to fix this, to calm him. Those hiccuping breaths and trembling fingers make him ache, and he just wants to put his arms around him and hold him till he’s okay.

   But that would be too easy. There’s more to this, and he needs to do more. His own eyes are burning as he presses feather light kisses on swollen lips and tastes salt on his tongue.

   ”Hey,” he says, voice somehow steady, but quiet, “hey, it’s okay. It’s me, Dee. It’s just me. I know you haven’t. I mean   I didn’t, but I do, now. And that’s okay. This is new for me, too.” That’s not a lie. It’s always been him and Jordan; he doesn’t know anything else. “But I want this, okay? And it’ll be great, I just know it will.”

   And then he does pull him into a hug, and Merlin’s beard, when did Drew get taller than him? A half-there chuckle bubbles up in his throat, and he kisses the top of Andrew’s mop of hair. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Dee.” Sometimes, he’s afraid of himself, but that’s different. Andrew is different. “I’d never do anything to hurt you, okay? There’s no pressure. We never have to do or be anything you don’t want to; we can do nothing but sit around and do divination homework, if that’s what you wanna do!”

   A grim prospect, but at this point, he’d promise anything, and he’d mean it, too. He just wants Andrew to be okay. And when he tips his chin up, he wills those big eyes to dry. “Just trust me, just this once. It’s gonna be okay.” The smile he dons doesn’t feel quite as forced as he was expecting, as he brushes the last of the tears away, eyes warm with affection for the other.

   ”Now, if you’d be okay with it,” he starts, a little bit coyly and just a little bit lightly, “what do you say we forget the last couple minutes. Do ‘em over. So I can show you what a real first kiss’s supposed to be like.” Because Andrew deserves better than what he got. Probably deserves better than TC period, but these are the cards they’ve been dealt. “What do you say?”

[tohideinplainsight]

   Breath catches when TC comforts him, when those lips and fingers touch him so tenderly. He doesn't believe he deserve the kindness or the soft words that wash over him. A hiccup of breath slips free but he doesn't fight the hands guiding him in close. Instead he almost collapses into those arms with an uneven exhale.

   "How can you say that? I've never-- And...And y-you--"

   All he can think of is Jordan and TC. The times he'd walked in on them by accident and she'd been moaning into his best friend's mouth with her fingers curled into his hair. Andrew felt the first inklings of something then and god how it ate away at him, gnawing and twisting into his veins. Fingers twist further into fabric when he's dragged into a hug.

   Somehow it's more soothing than the words but eventually the panic ebbs and all he can think about is how terrifying a thought it is to not have this. To never feel warm arms and to feel what it's like to be wanted by someone. Andrew closes his eyes and circles his arms about him, letting himself forget about the panic and the worry that this won't last.

   Because TC tells him it'll be okay, Andrew believes him.

   "I know," he whispers hoarsely and tucks his face into the crook of TC's neck. Andrew thinks he can hide away until TC is urging him back, catching his gaze, and telling him it'll all be okay. "I know," Andrew breathes out again, fumbling with the tears that TC's fingers missed. Then there's a huff of quiet laughter and shyly his eyes dart away until TC is speaking again.

   Cheek ruddy, eyes red, and pulse quickening, he can't help but wonder if TC's under some kind of curse to look at him like that much less offer something like that. Swallowing thickly, he ducks his head to hide his embarrassment before giving a quick nod and an almost inaudible exhale of syllables.

   "Okay...I...I think that's okay."

   Andrew feels his cheeks go hotter.

   "If--If you want..."

[jaguarpenguins]

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[armydoccallahan]

   He sees the look on Andrew’s face, and wishes with everything he is that he could take it all back. He’s screwed up a lot of things, but his friendship with Andrew has always been this pure, untarnished thing. And now he’s gone and sullied it.

   He wants to run. Literally book it off the bridge and hide until everything boils over or until he’s figured out a way to make this right. But then Andrew’s fingers curl in his sleeve, and even though it would be only too easy to wrench away, to retreat with his tail firmly between his legs, he’s rooted to the spot. He mucked it all up; now he has to deal with the consequences.

   Shut up. TC can do that. For once, he doesn’t have a whole lot to say, so he wouldn’t have had a problem with it. But then Andrew’s kissing him, and their noses bump and TC bites his lip, but it sparks something like hope in TC’s chest. He doesn’t dare let it grow to an ember, but he keeps it alive nonetheless.

   Hesitant in a way he’s not used to being, he brings his hands up to rest on Andrew’s hips, not quite holding, just … touching. He doesn’t try to deepen the kiss. He’ll let Andrew decide what he wants. But he hopes he wants this. He hopes he wants him.

   ”I’ll make this right,” he whispers against his lips when the need for air forces them apart. His grip tightens marginally, more reassuring than restricting. It’s a promise and a plea. “Give me a chance, Dee. Give this a chance, and I’ll make it right. Please.”

[tohideinplainsight]

   Andrew is shaking by the time teeth drag against his lip and hands settle at his hips. A mix of panic and relief settles in as their noses brush, pushing closer with a note of hesitance. Anxiety settles beneath his ribs and he worries that he's doing this wrong. Maybe it'll make TC pull away, maybe it'll be the one thing that makes him change his mind about doing this.

   Part of him still thinks this is some kind of cruel joke.

   "Tee--"

   Breath hiccups between them and white hot shame swells up. He's so pathetic, crying at a time like this. But it feels too good to be true and that's what hurts the most. Eyes close tightly and chase the hot burn of tears away with a quick blink. Two years he's wondered what's wrong with him, wondered why it was he found himself staring overlong. Andrew thinks it's him, that it isn't anyone but himself to blame for why his chest hurts this bad when it's TC touching him like Andrew deserves to be cared about.

   He shouldn't want to kiss his friend again.

   "Tee..." Fingers fumble and move, gripping the front of TC's shirt as he stays forehead to forehead. "I've never-- With anyone and I--" The words get jumbled up in his throat and he leans in to stop them, brows knitting together as he catches lips in a kiss once more. He can taste his pulse on his tongue as teeth drag along TC's lip and his cheeks go a shade darker.

   "I'm afraid," he confesses between their mouths, breath shaky. "You scare me Tee."

   Eyes fall close and he swallows thickly.

   "I've n-never...never felt like this."

[armydoccallahan]

    TC’s world comes screeching to a halt as Andrew draws away, and there’s this look on his face that strikes TC like a physical blow. No. He’s made a mistake. He’s crossed a line. He’s gone too far. 

    Because that’s not happiness he sees. That’s not the face of someone that’s been pleasantly surprised.

    TC suddenly gets a thought, one that churns his belly like slugs and slime. Andrew’s never talked about being kissed. What if … what if he hasn’t? Or, hadn’t? What if TC took that away from him?

   He pulls his hands back to himself like they’ve been burned, clenching them to painful fists at his sides. “That was … I’m sorry.” Except there’s a disgusting, selfish part of him that isn’t, that’s cheerfully reminding him how much he wanted that. And that just makes it worse, because TC knows he’s not a great guy, but he thought he was at least better than this.

   He takes a step back, trying to give Andrew some space. Or maybe it’s for his own sake; maybe he doesn’t trust himself. “I thought you   " No. He’s not blaming this on Andrew. "I like you, Dee. I should’ve just said so, but I dunno. I’m shit with words, and I choked, and I just   if that was your first kiss, I’m sorry. Guess I’m sorry even if it wasn’t. I shouldn’t have done that. I should’ve … I should’ve made sure you wanted it, too.” 

   This time, he’s the one gathering his things up in a hurry, because he can’t think of how to fix this, and he’s trying to get out of this while there’s still something left of his pride and their friendship to salvage.

   He forces a weak smile that hurts his face as he starts to leave. He hopes the remorse shows more than the humiliation in it, because Andrew’s feelings are more important than his own, but he’s only human. “Should’ve just bought you roses, huh?” 

[tohideinplainsight]

   What do you say when your heart aches and hurts all at once? Andrew stands there unsure if he should cry or smile when the surprise and instinct wears off in due time. Fingers tentatively touch his lips and eyes flutter close as he tries to stop TC's words from sinking in. Something quiet and wounded rears it's head and it feels as though they're grasping at each other through a murky haze. He's never done this. Never kissed. Never touched.

   Never loved someone.

   Because he'd always had TC.

   "Just---"

   His voice is strained, choked, as he tries to find the right words. A flurry of conflicting emotion swells up and clumsily he fumbles through them as TC fumbles through his words. How could the other boy like him? Garishly all the flaws and faults come to light under his own scrutiny and once more there is that inkling of doubt that whispers words of disbelief. This had to be some kind of trick. Maybe Pogue was in on it too.

   Fingers reach out and snare awkwardly in fabric, keeping TC from leaving.

   "Just...s-shut up."

   It's even more awkward the way their lips meet when Andrew closes the distance between them. Somehow he'd always pictured it differently, the first time he'd kiss someone. For the longest time he'd imagined some mystery girl on a beach watching some kind of exotic animal. But then it'd changed. It's warped into something laughable simple and mundane. Just fingers brushing, shy lips, and TC's eyes crinkling with a smile.

   Kissing him is nothing like the daydreams.

[armydoccallahan]

    It’s like someone’s cast some sort of arresto charm that’s slowed time, and TC can only watch in painfully slow detail as Andrew shuts down. His face gets flushed, that pretty rosy red color TC’s grown so fond of, and his eyes go wide, and he says something about Jordan before he starts to walk away.

   ”Jordan and I broke up.” The words come tumbling out in a rush, and he’s not actually sure when he got to his feet, but he’s on them, hand latching onto Andrew’s upper arm and pulling him around to face him.

   He’s not really sure what to do next. He’s not even really sure why he did what he’s already done.

   Well, since he’s in the hole already…

   ”Early in the summer, I mean. Jordan and I … we’re friends, Andrew. Just good friends.” They’ve been through a lot  together, and he loves her, but it’s not   it’s not that kind of love. Not the butterflies-in-his-stomach, palms-sweaty, heart-fluttering kind of love. “And I guess the reason that I’m telling you is, well, this.”

   With one hand cupping Andrew’s cheek and the other still holding his arm, he crushes their lips together in a single, chaste kiss.

[tohideinplainsight]

   Jordan and I broke up.

   There's a moment of disbelief, that maybe TC is just saying it to get to him because part of him just thinks this is some great big prank. Only the other boy has never been so cruel. So he's frozen in place, too lost in his head and too jittery to come to a conclusion as to what he should do. Only TC is talking again and Andrew can't help but listen---

   Words swell up on the tip of his tongue. There's so much he could say, so much he could do. Briefly he thinks to pull away because how could TC understand how he's felt for two long years? How could he presume to know what he wanted, what he told himself he would never have? Finger twist about TC's wrist, about to pull it loose when there is warmth at his cheek. It startles him to freezing up, staring with a touch of confusion and disbelief.

   Andrew wonders if his friend has lost his mind.

   Maybe, just maybe this is another joke.

   Soft lips meet his own, eliciting a startled noise from behind the words trapped on his tongue. Brows knit together and Andrew tells himself that this isn't what TC means, that he doesn't want this. Them. Drawing back, teeth draw along his lip, heat rising further to his cheeks. He's torn between lashing out and trying it once more just to see if the second is as good as the first.

   "...Oh."

   His fist clenches at his side.

   Andrew never thought his first kiss would be stolen like this.

[armydoccallahan]

   It’s hard to watch, sometimes, the way Andrew retreats into himself. The way he shrugs off any kind word like it’s some sort of mistake. “That’s a load of tripe, Dee,” he says. “Look at what you just did, at all the things you can do. You’re amazing, Dee. Merlin’s beard, I can’t do half the things you can.”

  As for the rest…

    He sits up, trying to meet Andrew’s gaze despite the other’s best efforts to avoid it. “You’re not just anything, Dee. But it’s like   " he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He’s trying to be gentle about this, "   it’s like you’re holding back. And I just want you to know that you don’t have to. If you are, I mean. Pretending. You don’t have to with me.”

    And it’s a fond, comfortable gesture when he nudges Andrew’s leg. “I fancy you just the way you are, bird boy.”

[tohideinplainsight]

   Ah, there it is again, the painful clench beneath his ribcage. Like his breath is too short, too tight in his throat. Because as amazing as TC may say he is, how fantastic or remarkable his gifts are, it doesn't changes things. It doesn't change the way he hates the freckles at the bridge of his nose, tiny and minuscule. It doesn't change how he dislikes how ruddy his cheeks get when he's flustered. 

   Because it reminds him.

   Of the Saturday mornings he'll never have. Of the late night talks about things Andrew struggled with now. Of the quiet reassurance and calm smile.

   It reminds him he wasn't good enough to save everyone.

   To save his--

   "I can't...I can't be that guy, Tee. The others...the rest of the guys are all I have. It's my life. I just--" The words are caught in his throat and his gaze snaps upwards at the brief contact. Eyes widen briefly at the words and his face goes hot, heart crawling back up his throat until he's shying away. Fumbling, Andrew grabs his things and manages to get to his feet.

   "Jordan...she-- she's probably waiting for you TC."

   Hesitant steps. Andrew turns and fights against the pained feeling swelling up, raw and ugly as it is. Jealousy never set well and it's harder, so damn hard, to bury it away.

   "I should...I should go."

[hiddlesy]

Save me.