“your own eyes say otherwise, terry.” kiel raises a brow in mock suspicion, accompanying the gesture with a upward tug of his lip before teasingly dodging the other’s advance. “but anyway, yes.” our room shamelessly registers as theirs for a second or two, only for him to then realize he very well meant him and lance. their house, their bed. singular. is that how it works here? fuck.
they find three when they actually get there, a silent victory playing in his head as he studies everything else at first sight. it’s adequate enough for three boys, he assumes. not that it’s exactly safe to do that, but he doesn’t think it’s so good to ask either. eyes scan the walls for any accolades soon enough, baby pictures being his actual target of interest when he dares himself to step in further. there’s ty first to the left, lance over on the right. puck even, all three of them sharing the same old smug grin in their respective pictures. more or less.
kiel learns he’s right about terry when he finally finds his picture in their midst. it’s not in him at all to see that they’ve looked alike in their younger years - a smile far wider doesn’t register anywhere near familiar to what he’s grown up seeing in his own mirror his whole life.
he smiles back. at the picture, and then the present. terry is what’s of the picture now, a tired version simultaneously envisioned and recalled from moments before.
“do you have any more?” kiel focuses back on the wall, head tilting to the side in awe as he gives each frame a once-over again. “pictures, i mean.” one at a time, he figures. stories could wait in the weeks that follow, in that same flow. preferably a year’s worth of weeks.
he leads the way, hand at his sides. a very peculiar feeling, the lack of warmth between his fingers. kiel seems distracted enough by the photos carelessly pinned and framed at whatever space was left available on their wall that terry takes his opportunity to quietly - as quietly plastic bottles full of pills can be - grab whatever the fuck is displayed atop their wooden drawer, forgotten due to routine. except, schedule aside, terry doesn’t take them regularly, anyway. it fucks him up - an excuse. a valid one, he likes to believe.
“uhm,” he starts, shoving them into the top drawer, under piles of t-shirts, some he doesn’t remember if it belonged to him or lance specifically. not that it matters. “not really?” half-truth or half-lie, depends on how anyone looks a it. a perfect opportunity to take out a change of clothes for the both of them. “you’ve seen most of them in the living room.”
the ones that matter, anyway.
lance’s graduation photo - high school and university; terry, too - high school, an extra frame ready once his dreaded university ones arrive; a family - all six siblings; puck’s first steps, developed, taken by lance’s old, shitty digital camera.
“we don’t like to waste film,” he adds, fully aware they’ve been using lance’s digital camera for years until they had camera phones nice enough not to take grainy pictures. he’s not in the mood to reminisce about shitty memories. most of the older photos are tucked away in the basement for a reason - fiona as an only child; their mom carrying ty in her arms; ones where puck wasn’t born yet; wedding photos - an absolute joke. they’re useless by now. no one in this house wants to see them.
terry’s tone turns somber. he hopes kiel can take the hint, at least.
he throws both set of clothes at the end of his bed - a twin bed, wide enough to be comfortable for two. then again, who the fuck cares? terry has been sleeping literally on top of kiel for weeks. he shrugs off his hoodie, at the same time kicking off his shoes. he hangs his extra skin hoodie on the back of a nearby chair, leaving him in a black tee and ripped jeans. terry walks over to where kiel stands, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist from behind, pressing his cheek against the other’s back.
“there’s really nothing to see.” his voice is muffled by the other’s shirt.
i don’t want to look at them ever anymore.
terry think he’s revealed enough sob stories simply by existing
