Fanfiction: Redrawing the Map (The Book of Mormon, Price/McKinley)
This fic basically came about because I saw this excellent (mildly NSFW) Elder Price/Elder McKinley art by crystallizedtwilight, and my mind went 'wait, are their companions sitting awkwardly in the room the whole time?'
In the end, this fic didn't actually hit that scenario, but I want you to know that that's the awkward future I envision for these boys.
Title: Redrawing the Map
Fandom: The Book of Mormon (musical)
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 3,500
Summary: Elder Price and Elder McKinley try to adjust to the abrupt shift in the rules they're living by. The fact that their companions still have to be present isn’t really making it any easier.
Warnings: Elder McKinley is involved, which means this fic is guaranteed to include internalised homophobia.
Kevin offers to proofread the first draft of the Book of Arnold. He feels a little bad for keeping Nabulungi’s iPad from her for any longer, when she’s already let Elder Cunningham write an entire book on it. But he knows his grammar is better than Elder Cunningham’s, and, if he’s honest, he’s desperate to be the first to see the book.
If he’s going to be a heretic, he’s going to know the heretical texts back to front. He is going to be the best damn heretic the world has ever seen.
He sits on his bed with the iPad, legs crossed over each other and back against the headboard. Takes a moment to brace himself before he starts reading. He’ll never believe in it all, but he needs to believe at least partway, and he has to put himself in the right frame of mind for that.
The book is nonsense, of course, but it’s perfect nonsense. It’s relevant to the people it’s trying to help; there’s genuine advice buried in these bizarre analogies. And it’s entertaining; he has to stifle a couple of laughs in the early chapters, when Elder Cunningham evidently wasn’t yet comfortable writing clitoris and just wrote C-word instead, making everything seem substantially worse.
And then Yoda came down from the stars! And he delivered unto the people the TEN COMMANDMENTS wait no those are already a thing. The TEN MORMANDMENTS.
1. Be nice! Don’t be an asshole or a warlord.
2. If someone’s broken a rule, but they’re really trying to be good, they should get another chance and they don’t have to have any spooky dreams about Hell.
3. You’re allowed to let out your feelings! Or kiss boys or whatever! If you’re a boy, I mean. Wait, it’s also okay if you’re a girl. What I’m saying is it’s okay to be gay, Elder McKinley, I’m worried about you.
4. Companions must stay with each other at all times forever unless they both agree to split up.
Kevin pauses. Looks up from the iPad at Elder Cunningham, who’s been fidgeting in the corner the entire time he’s been reading.
“Do you like it?” Elder Cunningham asks, immediately.
He does. Even if he can’t believe in it as wholeheartedly as he once believed in the Book of Mormon, it feels like it resonates more with him, somehow. It’s genuinely reassuring, no matter how ridiculous it is, to read Yoda’s declaration that he deserves a second chance.
“I do,” Kevin says. “It’s just, uh, is the whole ‘companion divorce’ thing a good idea?”
“The what?” Elder Cunningham asks.
“The fourth Mormandment,” Kevin says. It’ll probably sound less ridiculous once he’s said it a few times. “I mean, I know we committed to two years, but it sounds like you expect me to be in the same room as you, like... for the rest of our lives. Unless we get a companion divorce, I guess. I don’t know what else to call it.”
Unless they both agree to split up, it says. He has a sinking feeling that Elder Cunningham will never agree to split up with him.
“I guess that name works,” Elder Cunningham says, thoughtfully. “But you don’t think it’s a good idea? I could say that companions can’t split up.”
“No!” Kevin says, hastily. “No, no, I think-”
He was kind of hoping that the Book of Arnold would get rid of rule seventy-two. It’s not that he doesn’t love and admire Elder Cunningham, but sometimes he just wants to be alone.
Getting rid of the rule entirely might be too ambitious.
“Maybe just keep it to two years,” Kevin says. He was going to say the duration of the mission, but he’s not sure how long this new mission of theirs might be. “And, uh, I think we should bring back the bathroom exception.”
Elder Cunningham sighs. “Fine,” he says, with deep and slightly alarming regret. “But only if you’re pooping.”
-
“Have you seen Mormandment three, Elder McKinley?” Elder Cunningham asks, eagerly.
Kevin was wondering the same thing, if he’s honest. He’s glad Elder Cunningham was the one to ask.
Elder McKinley looks like he’s been asked the question at gunpoint. “I don’t know why you would ask me that,” he says, and then, “I mean, yes. I’ve - I’ve read the book. But I don’t know why you would ask me about that specifically.”
“It does mention you by name,” Kevin points out.
Elder McKinley drops his voice to a ferocious whisper. “And I don’t know why! You’re going to make everyone think I’m gay!”
Kevin raises his eyebrows. Elder Cunningham raises his eyebrows. Elder Thomas, present in the room as Elder McKinley’s companion, raises his eyebrows.
Elder McKinley sighs. “Look. I - I know you’re trying to help. And I appreciate it. But I think I need to...” He scrubs a hand across his face. “Maybe one day I’ll be okay with... feelings?” His voice cracks on the word. “But I need some time to process the new rules, I think.”
-
There’s a small gathering in mission HQ to celebrate the first printing of the book: the elders and a handful of villagers. Elder Cunningham catapults enthusiastically around the room, talking at great speed to everyone, returning to Nabulungi twice as much as anyone else. Kevin sits on the couch in the corner, sipping his coffee.
He doesn’t even like the taste of coffee, really. He’d only drunk so much during his crisis for the sake of rebelling. But Elder Cunningham had bought him a cup and presented it to him so proudly that he hadn’t had the heart to say so.
Elder McKinley comes by the couch, and hesitates for a moment before sitting down next to him. He always seems to hesitate before approaching Kevin. Maybe it’s nothing, but it makes Kevin feel kind of weird.
“You really seem to have adjusted to this,” Elder McKinley says, nodding to Kevin’s coffee cup. “All the rules being different, I mean.”
Kevin shrugs. “I mean, I was already having a crisis of faith when the rules changed. I think that probably helped.”
Elder McKinley brushes a hand over his hair, thoughtful. “Maybe. I’m definitely struggling with... replacing my beliefs. There are some things it’s tough to let go of.”
Kevin frowns down at his coffee, weighing up exactly how to respond to that. There’s a good chance Elder McKinley is talking about his guilt over his sexuality, and a part of Kevin wants to reassure him. But, if Elder McKinley hasn’t mentioned that specifically, it might not be appropriate to bring it up.
“I know what you mean,” he says at last. And it’s true; he still hesitates every time he wants to swear, even in his head. “But I think believing in something has always kind of felt like a conscious decision to me. It just has to be a little more conscious when Chewbacca’s in the scripture.”
Elder McKinley shakes his head. “I don’t feel like I decided. I just... knew the Book of Mormon was true.” He turns the Book of Arnold over in his hands. “I’m trying to get there with this. It might take a while, though.”
“Just think of it like a light switch,” Kevin suggests.
Elder McKinley shudders. “I’m really trying not to.”
“This is great!” Elder Cunningham exclaims, an abrupt and startling part of the conversation; Kevin has no idea how long he’s been within listening distance. “This is totally progress! You’re having feelings!”
“Well, I don’t like it,” Elder McKinley mutters.
“You know it’s okay for you to have feelings for guys, too?” Elder Cunningham asks, worming between them on the couch. It doesn’t really fit the three of them, and Kevin finds himself jammed uncomfortably against the arm. “Right? Riiiiight?”
“I don’t have feelings for guys,” Elder McKinley says. It’s quick and sharp, almost reflexive.
Elder Cunningham beams at him in a way that manages to feel simultaneously fatherly and completely inappropriate. “Well, if you ever do, God’s fine with it.”
He bounds away and taps Nabulungi on the arm, and the two of them quickly fall to chatting and giggling. She kisses him on the cheek. It’s a little jarring to see; there’s an internal moment of I’m his companion, I should put a stop to this before Kevin remembers that flirting on missions is okay now.
Kevin glances over at Elder McKinley, who’s watching the two of them as well.
“I guess the Book of Arnold is more permissive about a lot of things,” Elder McKinley says, after a moment.
“It feels kind of scandalous, right?” Kevin agrees. “But... I don’t think I really have a problem with it, when I think about it.”
Well. If Elder Cunningham and Nabulungi are in a relationship, that could potentially lead to some awkward moments when they want to be together and Kevin just has to... hang around, as Elder Cunningham’s companion. But, in theory, he doesn’t have a problem with romance on a mission.
“How about you?” Kevin asks.
Elder McKinley shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know. I suppose it’s not harming anyone.”
For a moment they sit there in silence, Elder McKinley watching the party, Kevin watching him.
Kevin guesses he might as well bring the question of sexuality up, now that Elder Cunningham has cheerfully trampled over that barrier.
“So,” he says, “what if I had a relationship with a guy?”
Elder McKinley’s eyes snap to his, suddenly wide. “What?”
“I mean,” Kevin says, and he has to pause and swallow. Now that Elder McKinley’s actually reacting to it, what he just said feels a lot more significant than he meant it to. “I’m just wondering, you know, you seem kind of uncomfortable with... your own feelings, but you’re okay with Elder Cunningham’s, and I was thinking maybe it’d be easier to accept the whole gay-is-okay thing for someone else.”
“Why would you-” Elder McKinley looks appalled. “Why would you ask that? Why would you use yourself as the example?”
Kevin clears his throat. “Just - just an example. Someone who isn’t you, so you don’t have to picture yourself being involved.”
“Of course I’m picturing myself being involved!”
Silence. They both stare at each other.
“Hey!” Elder Cunningham taps rapidly on Kevin’s shoulder from behind, very nearly giving him a heart attack. “Hey, I was gonna go for a walk with Nabi, can you come?”
-
Kevin spends most of the walk lost in thought, which is probably just as well. It means he’s barely present, which he suspects is probably what Nabulungi would prefer, even if Elder Cunningham seems delighted to have Kevin along for this maybe-a-date.
Nabulungi is gracious about his unavoidable presence, at least. (Or Nabi, as Elder Cunningham is now calling her, which is certainly an improvement on the three or four times he’s called her Nabikov.) She asks Kevin what he thinks of the Book (he tells her, truthfully, that it’s not as good as the village’s performance of it, and she beams), and then she asks what he and Elder McKinley were talking about.
Thankfully, Kevin is spared from answering that when Elder Cunningham gasps and points out a family of bats swooping overhead.
Of course I’m picturing myself being involved.
It’s not like Kevin hasn’t suspected that Elder McKinley might be interested in him. There have been indications, subtle and not so subtle. But a lot of them were easy to explain away; yes, Elder McKinley touches him more than he’s used to being touched, but so does Elder Cunningham. And, even if there was interest there, it was never going to be relevant; they were both dedicated Mormons on a mission.
It’s only just hit him that now, with the rules changing, it might be something he actually needs to think about.
Maybe things haven’t changed that much. Elder McKinley is still struggling with his own sexuality; he might just keep on turning it off, even in this new world. But things suddenly seem disconcertingly possible in a way they didn’t before.
Kevin shakes his head, trying to clear it. He doesn’t have to worry about this. Things can’t be that possible; their companions will still be around all the time.
Nabulungi’s shoulder bumps his arm, and he suddenly becomes aware that she and Elder Cunningham are making out enthusiastically next to him.
He may have an actual problem here.
-
When Kevin really thinks about it, it doesn’t seem like he should have to follow the rules in the Book of Arnold. He knows for a fact that Elder Cunningham made them up; he’s talked Elder Cunningham into changing some of them himself. If he sneaks off without his companion for a private conversation, is God really going to judge him? Is there a God to judge him at all?
And yet the Book of Arnold is a miracle, something that’s ridiculous but also real in a way Kevin can’t entirely articulate. He has to believe in it; that’s important to him. And he’s so used to living a structured, rule-defined life that the idea of casting the rules aside kind of scares him.
Besides, even if he abandoned Elder Cunningham, Elder McKinley has a companion as well. There are no private conversations to be had here.
Not with anyone but his companion, at least.
“Hey,” he says, into the warm, dark air of their shared bedroom. “Are you awake?”
“I’m always awake for you!” Elder Cunningham says, brightly and hopefully inaccurately.
Kevin turns over in his bed to look at him. It might be a bad idea to ask this. “Do you think maybe Elder McKinley is into me?”
Elder Cunningham emits a brief and bizarre high-pitched sound, like a whistling kettle being dropped on the floor. “Oh, yeah, totally. Honestly, I kind of ship you two.”
Kevin has no idea what half of that means, but oh, yeah, totally is clear enough. It kind of tightens up his stomach. He rolls onto his back, looking up at the ceiling, although it’s too dark to really make it out.
“Maybe I should talk to him about it,” he says, when he’s remembered how his voice works. “It’s just, uh... it’s kind of a delicate subject, and I know you’ll have to be there, so could you... leave the talking to me, maybe?”
“Yeah, of course,” Elder Cunningham says, immediately. “You won’t even know I’m there.”
-
Elder McKinley and Elder Thomas’s room looks a lot like the one Kevin shares with Elder Cunningham. The main difference is that Elder McKinley’s bed has been shoved into the corner, as far away from Elder Thomas’s as it can get.
Elder McKinley draws a couple of chairs over to the far wall, the single point in the room that’s furthest from any beds, and invites Kevin to sit down.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” Kevin says.
“It’s no trouble,” Elder McKinley says. He keeps glancing over at his mattress as if it’s going to bite them. “What... what did you want to talk about?”
Kevin looks around to check on their companions. They seem to be chatting about the framed photographs around Elder Thomas’s bed: pictures of his family, his sister dancing, a packet of Pop-Tarts. There’s nothing where Elder McKinley sleeps.
“I’ve been wondering about your feelings,” he says.
Elder McKinley’s expression goes instantly blank. “I’m sorry for what I said at the party. That was inappropriate. If you want to complain to the leaders, I underst-” He hesitates. “Actually, I’m not sure who we’d complain to now. Elder Cunningham?”
“It’s fine,” Kevin says, quickly. “I didn’t have a problem with it. I just wanted to talk.”
Elder McKinley frowns. “I thought maybe you wanted my help with something. You want to talk about me?”
“It sounded like you were having a hard time. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Kevin strokes his own tie a couple of times: a nervous habit he consciously developed a while ago as an alternative to tugging at it, so he wouldn’t mess up his clothes. “Did you think at all about that hypothetical question? How you’d feel if... some other elder got into a relationship with a guy?”
“I... yes, I thought about it.” Elder McKinley’s eyes skitter away from Kevin’s as he speaks. “I think you’re right. It’s easier to picture that being okay for other people.”
Kevin nods. “So... do you think that means you could ever believe it’s okay for you?”
“I don’t - I don’t know.” A pause. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
Another pause. Silence, in fact, in the room, which makes Kevin uncomfortably aware of the fact that their companions must be listening to what they’re saying. He tries to resist looking over at them.
Elder McKinley sighs. “In some ways... I don’t know, it’s easier to know you can’t ever act on your feelings. If God doesn’t approve of your sexuality, that’s simple: you just switch it off, you accept that - that romance isn’t going to be a part of your life.” He circles his hands around each other for a moment, like he knows the words he’s looking for are somewhere in front of him and he’s trying to feel where they are. “If I can believe God isn’t going to reject me, that means I can approach people. But they can still reject me. That’s a whole new risk.”
Kevin hates the idea of being rejected, too. “I know. But... maybe they won’t.”
More silence.
“So, uh,” Kevin says, “is there anyone you’re interested in right now?”
Elder McKinley groans. He looks agonisingly uncomfortable. “Honestly? I don’t know. I - I have weird thoughts about pretty much every guy I meet. It’s hard to know how real that is. I don’t know if your feelings just kind of explode everywhere if you stamp on them hard enough.”
“Ooh!” Elder Cunningham exclaims from the other side of the room. “Do you have a crush on me?”
It crashes through their conversation, through any sense that it’s safe to talk intimately; it’s an abrupt, unignorable reminder that they’re not alone. Kevin can almost see Elder McKinley shutting himself off again.
Kevin tents his fingers against his temples for a moment. “Elder Cunningham, I thought we had an agreement.”
“Hey, it’s fine, you guys can absolutely still talk or make out or whatever,” Elder Cunningham says, raising his hands. “I just wanna know.”
“The agreem-” Kevin trips over himself in his haste to get the words out. Meets Elder McKinley’s eyes, which are probably as wide as his own by this point. “The agreement was not that we could make out, just so you know.”
“I could... face the wall?” Elder Thomas says, awkwardly. “If you want some privacy?”
“Okay,” Kevin says. “The lesson to be taken from this, Elder McKinley, is that everyone here supports you.”
“Uh,” Elder McKinley says, his eyes a frantic flicker around the room.
Maybe Kevin should ask the question that actually brought him here, though.
“Would you make out with me, though?” Kevin asks. “If, I mean, if you could?”
Elder McKinley’s eyes land on Kevin’s and stay there, paralysed and unblinking.
“I mean,” Kevin says. He scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, I’m saying ‘if you could’, but... I guess you can. Right? The Book says it’s okay, there’s no reason you couldn’t - that we couldn’t-”
The meaning of what he’s saying is creeping up on him as he’s saying it. He wasn’t planning on this.
He cuts himself off and just sits there, feeling weird and too hot and somehow suspended in time.
“There’s a reason we can’t,” Elder McKinley says at last, in a dry whisper. “You’re not interested.”
Kevin thinks about that, if thinks about is the right phrase. It doesn’t feel like he’s having conscious, articulate thoughts; it feels more like he’s tilting what Elder McKinley just said in his hands, watching the way the light reflects off it and trying to decide if it looks right.
They’re sitting facing each other, but Elder McKinley originally set the chairs down at arm’s length, and Kevin’s noticed him shuffling slightly backwards over the course of this conversation. So there’s a little distance between them; Kevin can’t just lean forward or reach out.
He stands up, takes the step to close that distance, braces his hand on the back of Elder McKinley’s chair. Leans down.
Elder McKinley’s been so skittish, and Kevin is half-expecting him to pull away, is ready to back off and pretend nothing was going to happen. But there’s no hesitation; Elder McKinley is kissing him, abruptly, ferociously. His hand in Kevin’s hair, his fingers hooking under Kevin’s tie.
“Oh em gee,” Elder Cunningham squeaks, clapping enthusiastically.
As soon as this ends, there are going to be a lot of questions to answer. What Kevin wants, what Elder McKinley wants. Whether they’ll be doing this again. Whether this is a good idea right now. How far they want to go, and how far they’re prepared to go, given that their companions will have to be there.
Kevin closes his eyes, letting himself sink deeper into it.
That’s fine. The rules are all changing. They’ll figure this out.
In the end, this fic didn't actually hit that scenario, but I want you to know that that's the awkward future I envision for these boys.
Title: Redrawing the Map
Fandom: The Book of Mormon (musical)
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 3,500
Summary: Elder Price and Elder McKinley try to adjust to the abrupt shift in the rules they're living by. The fact that their companions still have to be present isn’t really making it any easier.
Warnings: Elder McKinley is involved, which means this fic is guaranteed to include internalised homophobia.
Kevin offers to proofread the first draft of the Book of Arnold. He feels a little bad for keeping Nabulungi’s iPad from her for any longer, when she’s already let Elder Cunningham write an entire book on it. But he knows his grammar is better than Elder Cunningham’s, and, if he’s honest, he’s desperate to be the first to see the book.
If he’s going to be a heretic, he’s going to know the heretical texts back to front. He is going to be the best damn heretic the world has ever seen.
He sits on his bed with the iPad, legs crossed over each other and back against the headboard. Takes a moment to brace himself before he starts reading. He’ll never believe in it all, but he needs to believe at least partway, and he has to put himself in the right frame of mind for that.
The book is nonsense, of course, but it’s perfect nonsense. It’s relevant to the people it’s trying to help; there’s genuine advice buried in these bizarre analogies. And it’s entertaining; he has to stifle a couple of laughs in the early chapters, when Elder Cunningham evidently wasn’t yet comfortable writing clitoris and just wrote C-word instead, making everything seem substantially worse.
And then Yoda came down from the stars! And he delivered unto the people the TEN COMMANDMENTS wait no those are already a thing. The TEN MORMANDMENTS.
1. Be nice! Don’t be an asshole or a warlord.
2. If someone’s broken a rule, but they’re really trying to be good, they should get another chance and they don’t have to have any spooky dreams about Hell.
3. You’re allowed to let out your feelings! Or kiss boys or whatever! If you’re a boy, I mean. Wait, it’s also okay if you’re a girl. What I’m saying is it’s okay to be gay, Elder McKinley, I’m worried about you.
4. Companions must stay with each other at all times forever unless they both agree to split up.
Kevin pauses. Looks up from the iPad at Elder Cunningham, who’s been fidgeting in the corner the entire time he’s been reading.
“Do you like it?” Elder Cunningham asks, immediately.
He does. Even if he can’t believe in it as wholeheartedly as he once believed in the Book of Mormon, it feels like it resonates more with him, somehow. It’s genuinely reassuring, no matter how ridiculous it is, to read Yoda’s declaration that he deserves a second chance.
“I do,” Kevin says. “It’s just, uh, is the whole ‘companion divorce’ thing a good idea?”
“The what?” Elder Cunningham asks.
“The fourth Mormandment,” Kevin says. It’ll probably sound less ridiculous once he’s said it a few times. “I mean, I know we committed to two years, but it sounds like you expect me to be in the same room as you, like... for the rest of our lives. Unless we get a companion divorce, I guess. I don’t know what else to call it.”
Unless they both agree to split up, it says. He has a sinking feeling that Elder Cunningham will never agree to split up with him.
“I guess that name works,” Elder Cunningham says, thoughtfully. “But you don’t think it’s a good idea? I could say that companions can’t split up.”
“No!” Kevin says, hastily. “No, no, I think-”
He was kind of hoping that the Book of Arnold would get rid of rule seventy-two. It’s not that he doesn’t love and admire Elder Cunningham, but sometimes he just wants to be alone.
Getting rid of the rule entirely might be too ambitious.
“Maybe just keep it to two years,” Kevin says. He was going to say the duration of the mission, but he’s not sure how long this new mission of theirs might be. “And, uh, I think we should bring back the bathroom exception.”
Elder Cunningham sighs. “Fine,” he says, with deep and slightly alarming regret. “But only if you’re pooping.”
-
“Have you seen Mormandment three, Elder McKinley?” Elder Cunningham asks, eagerly.
Kevin was wondering the same thing, if he’s honest. He’s glad Elder Cunningham was the one to ask.
Elder McKinley looks like he’s been asked the question at gunpoint. “I don’t know why you would ask me that,” he says, and then, “I mean, yes. I’ve - I’ve read the book. But I don’t know why you would ask me about that specifically.”
“It does mention you by name,” Kevin points out.
Elder McKinley drops his voice to a ferocious whisper. “And I don’t know why! You’re going to make everyone think I’m gay!”
Kevin raises his eyebrows. Elder Cunningham raises his eyebrows. Elder Thomas, present in the room as Elder McKinley’s companion, raises his eyebrows.
Elder McKinley sighs. “Look. I - I know you’re trying to help. And I appreciate it. But I think I need to...” He scrubs a hand across his face. “Maybe one day I’ll be okay with... feelings?” His voice cracks on the word. “But I need some time to process the new rules, I think.”
-
There’s a small gathering in mission HQ to celebrate the first printing of the book: the elders and a handful of villagers. Elder Cunningham catapults enthusiastically around the room, talking at great speed to everyone, returning to Nabulungi twice as much as anyone else. Kevin sits on the couch in the corner, sipping his coffee.
He doesn’t even like the taste of coffee, really. He’d only drunk so much during his crisis for the sake of rebelling. But Elder Cunningham had bought him a cup and presented it to him so proudly that he hadn’t had the heart to say so.
Elder McKinley comes by the couch, and hesitates for a moment before sitting down next to him. He always seems to hesitate before approaching Kevin. Maybe it’s nothing, but it makes Kevin feel kind of weird.
“You really seem to have adjusted to this,” Elder McKinley says, nodding to Kevin’s coffee cup. “All the rules being different, I mean.”
Kevin shrugs. “I mean, I was already having a crisis of faith when the rules changed. I think that probably helped.”
Elder McKinley brushes a hand over his hair, thoughtful. “Maybe. I’m definitely struggling with... replacing my beliefs. There are some things it’s tough to let go of.”
Kevin frowns down at his coffee, weighing up exactly how to respond to that. There’s a good chance Elder McKinley is talking about his guilt over his sexuality, and a part of Kevin wants to reassure him. But, if Elder McKinley hasn’t mentioned that specifically, it might not be appropriate to bring it up.
“I know what you mean,” he says at last. And it’s true; he still hesitates every time he wants to swear, even in his head. “But I think believing in something has always kind of felt like a conscious decision to me. It just has to be a little more conscious when Chewbacca’s in the scripture.”
Elder McKinley shakes his head. “I don’t feel like I decided. I just... knew the Book of Mormon was true.” He turns the Book of Arnold over in his hands. “I’m trying to get there with this. It might take a while, though.”
“Just think of it like a light switch,” Kevin suggests.
Elder McKinley shudders. “I’m really trying not to.”
“This is great!” Elder Cunningham exclaims, an abrupt and startling part of the conversation; Kevin has no idea how long he’s been within listening distance. “This is totally progress! You’re having feelings!”
“Well, I don’t like it,” Elder McKinley mutters.
“You know it’s okay for you to have feelings for guys, too?” Elder Cunningham asks, worming between them on the couch. It doesn’t really fit the three of them, and Kevin finds himself jammed uncomfortably against the arm. “Right? Riiiiight?”
“I don’t have feelings for guys,” Elder McKinley says. It’s quick and sharp, almost reflexive.
Elder Cunningham beams at him in a way that manages to feel simultaneously fatherly and completely inappropriate. “Well, if you ever do, God’s fine with it.”
He bounds away and taps Nabulungi on the arm, and the two of them quickly fall to chatting and giggling. She kisses him on the cheek. It’s a little jarring to see; there’s an internal moment of I’m his companion, I should put a stop to this before Kevin remembers that flirting on missions is okay now.
Kevin glances over at Elder McKinley, who’s watching the two of them as well.
“I guess the Book of Arnold is more permissive about a lot of things,” Elder McKinley says, after a moment.
“It feels kind of scandalous, right?” Kevin agrees. “But... I don’t think I really have a problem with it, when I think about it.”
Well. If Elder Cunningham and Nabulungi are in a relationship, that could potentially lead to some awkward moments when they want to be together and Kevin just has to... hang around, as Elder Cunningham’s companion. But, in theory, he doesn’t have a problem with romance on a mission.
“How about you?” Kevin asks.
Elder McKinley shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know. I suppose it’s not harming anyone.”
For a moment they sit there in silence, Elder McKinley watching the party, Kevin watching him.
Kevin guesses he might as well bring the question of sexuality up, now that Elder Cunningham has cheerfully trampled over that barrier.
“So,” he says, “what if I had a relationship with a guy?”
Elder McKinley’s eyes snap to his, suddenly wide. “What?”
“I mean,” Kevin says, and he has to pause and swallow. Now that Elder McKinley’s actually reacting to it, what he just said feels a lot more significant than he meant it to. “I’m just wondering, you know, you seem kind of uncomfortable with... your own feelings, but you’re okay with Elder Cunningham’s, and I was thinking maybe it’d be easier to accept the whole gay-is-okay thing for someone else.”
“Why would you-” Elder McKinley looks appalled. “Why would you ask that? Why would you use yourself as the example?”
Kevin clears his throat. “Just - just an example. Someone who isn’t you, so you don’t have to picture yourself being involved.”
“Of course I’m picturing myself being involved!”
Silence. They both stare at each other.
“Hey!” Elder Cunningham taps rapidly on Kevin’s shoulder from behind, very nearly giving him a heart attack. “Hey, I was gonna go for a walk with Nabi, can you come?”
-
Kevin spends most of the walk lost in thought, which is probably just as well. It means he’s barely present, which he suspects is probably what Nabulungi would prefer, even if Elder Cunningham seems delighted to have Kevin along for this maybe-a-date.
Nabulungi is gracious about his unavoidable presence, at least. (Or Nabi, as Elder Cunningham is now calling her, which is certainly an improvement on the three or four times he’s called her Nabikov.) She asks Kevin what he thinks of the Book (he tells her, truthfully, that it’s not as good as the village’s performance of it, and she beams), and then she asks what he and Elder McKinley were talking about.
Thankfully, Kevin is spared from answering that when Elder Cunningham gasps and points out a family of bats swooping overhead.
Of course I’m picturing myself being involved.
It’s not like Kevin hasn’t suspected that Elder McKinley might be interested in him. There have been indications, subtle and not so subtle. But a lot of them were easy to explain away; yes, Elder McKinley touches him more than he’s used to being touched, but so does Elder Cunningham. And, even if there was interest there, it was never going to be relevant; they were both dedicated Mormons on a mission.
It’s only just hit him that now, with the rules changing, it might be something he actually needs to think about.
Maybe things haven’t changed that much. Elder McKinley is still struggling with his own sexuality; he might just keep on turning it off, even in this new world. But things suddenly seem disconcertingly possible in a way they didn’t before.
Kevin shakes his head, trying to clear it. He doesn’t have to worry about this. Things can’t be that possible; their companions will still be around all the time.
Nabulungi’s shoulder bumps his arm, and he suddenly becomes aware that she and Elder Cunningham are making out enthusiastically next to him.
He may have an actual problem here.
-
When Kevin really thinks about it, it doesn’t seem like he should have to follow the rules in the Book of Arnold. He knows for a fact that Elder Cunningham made them up; he’s talked Elder Cunningham into changing some of them himself. If he sneaks off without his companion for a private conversation, is God really going to judge him? Is there a God to judge him at all?
And yet the Book of Arnold is a miracle, something that’s ridiculous but also real in a way Kevin can’t entirely articulate. He has to believe in it; that’s important to him. And he’s so used to living a structured, rule-defined life that the idea of casting the rules aside kind of scares him.
Besides, even if he abandoned Elder Cunningham, Elder McKinley has a companion as well. There are no private conversations to be had here.
Not with anyone but his companion, at least.
“Hey,” he says, into the warm, dark air of their shared bedroom. “Are you awake?”
“I’m always awake for you!” Elder Cunningham says, brightly and hopefully inaccurately.
Kevin turns over in his bed to look at him. It might be a bad idea to ask this. “Do you think maybe Elder McKinley is into me?”
Elder Cunningham emits a brief and bizarre high-pitched sound, like a whistling kettle being dropped on the floor. “Oh, yeah, totally. Honestly, I kind of ship you two.”
Kevin has no idea what half of that means, but oh, yeah, totally is clear enough. It kind of tightens up his stomach. He rolls onto his back, looking up at the ceiling, although it’s too dark to really make it out.
“Maybe I should talk to him about it,” he says, when he’s remembered how his voice works. “It’s just, uh... it’s kind of a delicate subject, and I know you’ll have to be there, so could you... leave the talking to me, maybe?”
“Yeah, of course,” Elder Cunningham says, immediately. “You won’t even know I’m there.”
-
Elder McKinley and Elder Thomas’s room looks a lot like the one Kevin shares with Elder Cunningham. The main difference is that Elder McKinley’s bed has been shoved into the corner, as far away from Elder Thomas’s as it can get.
Elder McKinley draws a couple of chairs over to the far wall, the single point in the room that’s furthest from any beds, and invites Kevin to sit down.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” Kevin says.
“It’s no trouble,” Elder McKinley says. He keeps glancing over at his mattress as if it’s going to bite them. “What... what did you want to talk about?”
Kevin looks around to check on their companions. They seem to be chatting about the framed photographs around Elder Thomas’s bed: pictures of his family, his sister dancing, a packet of Pop-Tarts. There’s nothing where Elder McKinley sleeps.
“I’ve been wondering about your feelings,” he says.
Elder McKinley’s expression goes instantly blank. “I’m sorry for what I said at the party. That was inappropriate. If you want to complain to the leaders, I underst-” He hesitates. “Actually, I’m not sure who we’d complain to now. Elder Cunningham?”
“It’s fine,” Kevin says, quickly. “I didn’t have a problem with it. I just wanted to talk.”
Elder McKinley frowns. “I thought maybe you wanted my help with something. You want to talk about me?”
“It sounded like you were having a hard time. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Kevin strokes his own tie a couple of times: a nervous habit he consciously developed a while ago as an alternative to tugging at it, so he wouldn’t mess up his clothes. “Did you think at all about that hypothetical question? How you’d feel if... some other elder got into a relationship with a guy?”
“I... yes, I thought about it.” Elder McKinley’s eyes skitter away from Kevin’s as he speaks. “I think you’re right. It’s easier to picture that being okay for other people.”
Kevin nods. “So... do you think that means you could ever believe it’s okay for you?”
“I don’t - I don’t know.” A pause. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
Another pause. Silence, in fact, in the room, which makes Kevin uncomfortably aware of the fact that their companions must be listening to what they’re saying. He tries to resist looking over at them.
Elder McKinley sighs. “In some ways... I don’t know, it’s easier to know you can’t ever act on your feelings. If God doesn’t approve of your sexuality, that’s simple: you just switch it off, you accept that - that romance isn’t going to be a part of your life.” He circles his hands around each other for a moment, like he knows the words he’s looking for are somewhere in front of him and he’s trying to feel where they are. “If I can believe God isn’t going to reject me, that means I can approach people. But they can still reject me. That’s a whole new risk.”
Kevin hates the idea of being rejected, too. “I know. But... maybe they won’t.”
More silence.
“So, uh,” Kevin says, “is there anyone you’re interested in right now?”
Elder McKinley groans. He looks agonisingly uncomfortable. “Honestly? I don’t know. I - I have weird thoughts about pretty much every guy I meet. It’s hard to know how real that is. I don’t know if your feelings just kind of explode everywhere if you stamp on them hard enough.”
“Ooh!” Elder Cunningham exclaims from the other side of the room. “Do you have a crush on me?”
It crashes through their conversation, through any sense that it’s safe to talk intimately; it’s an abrupt, unignorable reminder that they’re not alone. Kevin can almost see Elder McKinley shutting himself off again.
Kevin tents his fingers against his temples for a moment. “Elder Cunningham, I thought we had an agreement.”
“Hey, it’s fine, you guys can absolutely still talk or make out or whatever,” Elder Cunningham says, raising his hands. “I just wanna know.”
“The agreem-” Kevin trips over himself in his haste to get the words out. Meets Elder McKinley’s eyes, which are probably as wide as his own by this point. “The agreement was not that we could make out, just so you know.”
“I could... face the wall?” Elder Thomas says, awkwardly. “If you want some privacy?”
“Okay,” Kevin says. “The lesson to be taken from this, Elder McKinley, is that everyone here supports you.”
“Uh,” Elder McKinley says, his eyes a frantic flicker around the room.
Maybe Kevin should ask the question that actually brought him here, though.
“Would you make out with me, though?” Kevin asks. “If, I mean, if you could?”
Elder McKinley’s eyes land on Kevin’s and stay there, paralysed and unblinking.
“I mean,” Kevin says. He scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, I’m saying ‘if you could’, but... I guess you can. Right? The Book says it’s okay, there’s no reason you couldn’t - that we couldn’t-”
The meaning of what he’s saying is creeping up on him as he’s saying it. He wasn’t planning on this.
He cuts himself off and just sits there, feeling weird and too hot and somehow suspended in time.
“There’s a reason we can’t,” Elder McKinley says at last, in a dry whisper. “You’re not interested.”
Kevin thinks about that, if thinks about is the right phrase. It doesn’t feel like he’s having conscious, articulate thoughts; it feels more like he’s tilting what Elder McKinley just said in his hands, watching the way the light reflects off it and trying to decide if it looks right.
They’re sitting facing each other, but Elder McKinley originally set the chairs down at arm’s length, and Kevin’s noticed him shuffling slightly backwards over the course of this conversation. So there’s a little distance between them; Kevin can’t just lean forward or reach out.
He stands up, takes the step to close that distance, braces his hand on the back of Elder McKinley’s chair. Leans down.
Elder McKinley’s been so skittish, and Kevin is half-expecting him to pull away, is ready to back off and pretend nothing was going to happen. But there’s no hesitation; Elder McKinley is kissing him, abruptly, ferociously. His hand in Kevin’s hair, his fingers hooking under Kevin’s tie.
“Oh em gee,” Elder Cunningham squeaks, clapping enthusiastically.
As soon as this ends, there are going to be a lot of questions to answer. What Kevin wants, what Elder McKinley wants. Whether they’ll be doing this again. Whether this is a good idea right now. How far they want to go, and how far they’re prepared to go, given that their companions will have to be there.
Kevin closes his eyes, letting himself sink deeper into it.
That’s fine. The rules are all changing. They’ll figure this out.