Fic: This is not my (heart) [3/3]

[solarcat05]

Masterpost | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3





Kevin sleeps straight through church and lunch. He should have thought to set himself an alarm, but he didn't; instead, he inadvertently gives Nick and Joe enough time to make plans of their own.

They ambush him coming out of the bathroom, which is completely unfair. Kevin's half-dressed in just a pair of sweatpants and barely coherent anyway -- groggy from too much sleep, this time, though at least the hangover is gone -- so he's nowhere near quick enough to make an escape when he opens the door to find them standing there, Nick with his arms crossed and Joe ... crap. Joe holding an armful of clothes, specifically the ones Kevin wore at the party the night before. He can smell them clearly.

"We need to talk," Nick states, tone brooking no argument, and Joe nods his agreement. Kevin is frog-marched over to the sitting area, though they at least have the courtesy to let him have his favorite chair. Joe drops the clothes on the floor in front of the coffee table and perches himself on it. Nick stays standing, imposing like he can be when he sets his mind to it.

"What's going on with you, Kev? You've been acting weird all week, and now you're staying out all night drinking?" There's a pink flush to Nick's cheeks, and his fists are clenched tightly. Kevin glances nervously over at the fire poles -- everyone in the house can hear what's being said, and if his parents heard that ...

"They're out," Joe tells him, understanding. Joe doesn't look angry like Nick does. He just looks sort of lost, his feet turned inward and his forearms resting on his knees. "Frankie got them to take him out for the afternoon. Movie and mini-golf." Frankie is an expert at making a single mini-golf game last for two hours or more. That's something of a relief -- at least his parents won't overhear any of this conversation.

"It's not ... really like that," Kevin says weakly, because maybe it kind of is. Not that he'd set out to stay out all night drinking, but that's what happened so there's no getting around it.

"Then what's it like?" Nick snaps, then takes a quick breath, visibly tempering himself. "Look, is it about Mike Carden?"

Kevin blinks hard, tensing up. How does Nick know ... He glances at Joe, a non-verbal plea for help.

Joe licks his lips, hesitating. "Macy saw you on Thursday, getting in his car. She asked Stella if she should invite him to her birthday party."

Kevin almost wants to laugh at that. He can almost hear Macy in his head, chirping, If he's a friend of JONAS, he's a friend of mine! Ooh, do you think he'll come to the fanclub meeting next week? with a big, sweet smile on her face.

"I--" Kevin doesn't know what to say. It isn't -- wasn't -- about Mike, exactly. Mike didn't cause anything; it's not his fault that Kevin was girl-shaped for most of a week.

"Is he blackmailing you or something?" Nick cuts into Kevin's distracted pause. The idea is so ludicrous that Kevin sits in stunned silence, staring at Nick.

"What?" he asks finally, still gobsmacked.

The tension and anger seem to drain out of Nick all at once, and he slumps (as much as Nick ever slumps) down into the adjacent chair.

"Whatever it is," Joe says, taking over the conversation, "You don't have to let him -- I mean, you don't have to keep secrets from us, you know? Let us help."

Nick shifts uncomfortably in his chair, and Joe reaches out to put a hand on his knee. "We know," Nick says finally, "about the whole ... About you, y'know. Liking boys. Thing. So if that's what this is about, you don't have to ...."

Kevin's never seen Nick look so distressed in his life, and he's torn between wanting to comfort his little brother (because for all Nick acts like an adult, he'll always be Kevin's little brother, always) and wanting to jump out a window, because it's him that's putting that expression on Nick's face.

He was going to tell them someday; he knew at some point he'd have to. He never thought it would be a shock, exactly, not to anyone, but to think that they already know ...? But then, it's Nick, after all. Nick's always been the smartest of them. It's just, Kevin always thought they'd be okay with it, at least. Maybe not supportive in the waving-rainbow-flags-at-parades way, but at least enough to know he hasn't changed, that he's still Kevin, that he's always been himself. He never thought Nick's face would look like that.

This is rapidly becoming the absolute worst day of Kevin's entire life. There's a weird feeling spreading through him, as Nick continues to look devastated and Joe won't look up from the floor. It's like there's a hole in Kevin's stomach, this numb, hollow space, where some cosmic force pulled all his insides out while he wasn't paying attention.

Kevin hangs his head and curls his fingers in the soft material of his sweatpants, unable to stand the sight of Nick's face any longer. His chest feels as tight as if he still had the binder on, and he's glad he's back in his own body, because girl-Kevin's tears would have been running down her cheeks by now; boy-Kevin's are still clinging to his eyes, just barely. He feels like if he breathes too deeply he might shatter.

He doesn't realize he's shaking until Joe's hand lands on his shoulder and his muscles clench even tighter.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Joe asks, his voice small and hurt-sounding, and all Kevin can do is shake his head and curl further in on himself. His whole body is one massive hurt, and his throat is all closed up. He doesn't think he could speak even if he knew what to say.

There's a sort of grayness on the watery edges of his vision, blurring and dulling the outlines of his knees and arms and his bare feet on the carpet. Can you die from this kind of pain? At that moment, Kevin thinks maybe it's possible, thinks maybe it's preferable ... There's a rushing sound in his ears -- his own blood pumping, too fast and too hard -- and he's not aware of much of anything beyond the texture of the carpet and of his sweatpants against his palms and fingertips, and the knowledge that he managed to hide his transformation only to have everything fall apart anyway.

He doesn't notice Joe until he's already wormed his way into Kevin's lap, in that improbable way he has of fitting himself wherever he wants to be. Kevin startles, and almost tries to scramble out from under his brother, but then Joe's arms are around his neck and he's holding on so, so tight and saying, "Kev, no, it's okay, it's okay," over and over again, right up by Kevin's ear, until he actually starts hearing it. "We don't-- God, Kevin, we don't care about that, okay? We don't. Just, why didn't you tell us?"

The hollow space in Kevin's middle starts to fill up again, something heavy trickling in to replace the nothingness. He reaches up tentatively, oh so slowly, to wrap his arms around Joe's back; Joe's only response is to hold on even tighter. Something snaps in Kevin and suddenly he's clinging to his brother and saying things like, "I'm sorry," and "I didn't think -- ," and, "Are you sure?" in a quavering voice.

Before Joe can answer, Nick smacks the back of Kevin's head.

"Don't be stupid," he says irritably, but when Kevin looks up at him, his eyes are red-rimmed and a little bit puffy, and when Kevin holds one arm open, Nick allows himself to be dragged down into the group hug, even though the chair isn't at all big enough for all three of them.

The hugging gets awkward, at a certain point, and the arms of the chair are cutting off circulation to various limbs, but none of them is really willing to let go yet. They end up sprawling on the couch, tangled up together watching a terrible monster movie marathon just like they used to watch Saturday morning cartoons when they were younger -- Joe's head somewhere around Nick's kidneys and Nick's legs thrown over Kevin's and someone always getting kicked in the head. Their parents smile at them indulgently when they get home, Frankie passed out and snoring quietly in their dad's arms.

"Are you feeling better?" his mom asks Kevin as she presses a hand to his forehead. Nick and Joe don't say anything, but Kevin can feel them waiting for a response, too.

"Yeah, mom. I'm feeling a lot better." He's not sure if it's Joe or Nick who squeezes his thigh reassuringly, but in the end, it doesn't actually matter.



Monday is harder than Kevin thought it would be.

He doesn't have to worry about avoiding Stella's surprise clothes fittings or Macy's eagle-eyed gaze anymore, which is nice, especially considering how much time those two have started spending with them -- or, really, with Joe and Nick, if Kevin's being honest. Stella always has, to an extent, but she and Joe have been dancing around each other since puberty hit, and Macy had been a sort of scary (and possibly hazardous) presence for a long time, until she started calming down a little.

Kevin appreciates being able to sit with them at lunch and not spend every moment wondering if the binder is showing, if he's sitting enough like his boy-self that they won't notice a difference, if he's pitched his voice deeply enough, if if if. The constant worry had been gnawing away at him during the previous week, like a patient and resolute beast trapped inside him, inexorably clawing its way to freedom. If he hadn't had those afternoons away, where he could just be ...

Kevin feels a sudden pang, then, as he realizes abruptly that Brendon must have to deal with that gnawing, nagging worry every day. He hadn't actually, really thought about it before. He'd been so wrapped up in what was happening to him, and Brendon was so helpful and he smiled all the time, so Kevin hadn't thought about what it must be like, to be Brendon. Brendon doesn't even have the hope that Kevin clung to; of waking up one morning, magically fixed.

At that moment, Kevin feels very small. He hadn't realized. He'd been thoughtless, and maybe even cruel, to ... to almost rub Brendon's face in what he couldn't have. Oh, god, he's a complete asshole.

Brendon sits with William and Mike, at a small table on the other side of the cafeteria. They've sat there as long as Kevin can remember, just another plotted area on his mental map of lunchroom politics. Today, when Kevin glances over, William is saying something -- possibly about a giraffe, but Kevin is probably interpreting that hand gesture incorrectly -- and Brendon and Mike look about as happy as Kevin feels. Which is to say, not very. Brendon is poking at his tray with a breadstick, and Mike has his chin propped up on one hand. Neither of them appear to be paying any actual attention to William, hand gestures or no. Kevin looks away before any of them notice him staring.

In the previous week, since he's actually sort of gotten to know the three of them, he's begun to realize how often he actually passes them in the halls on a normal day. He hadn't noticed before, and now he can't help noticing that they've been avoiding him all morning. Well, Mike and Brendon have. William nods to Kevin once, though Kevin is too startled to say anything before William moves too far down the corridor.

They have orchestra that afternoon, and Kevin thinks that maybe, just maybe, he'll have a chance to talk to Brendon then, to at least apologize for not understanding, for not getting it sooner, for hurting him, as unintentional as it was. But Brendon doesn't appear until the last echoes of the class bell are sounding. Mr Phelps watches pointedly as Brendon makes his way to the piano. Kevin watches too, but Brendon doesn't look at him even once. Kevin's tense all through the class period, messing up easy chords and improvising the last ten measures of the song completely, as they've totally slipped his mind. It doesn't help that, while Brendon refuses to acknowledge his existence, Spencer Smith's steely-eyed glare seems to be focused exclusively on Kevin.

Orchestra is not a very successful class period at all, and to top it off, Brendon disappears from the room while Kevin is putting his guitar away and Kevin doesn't see him for the rest of the day.



Tuesday starts off very much like Monday, but without even the benefit of orchestra to give Kevin an opportunity to (maybe) talk to Brendon. He spots Brendon in the hallway between second and third periods, but if Kevin needed any further confirmation that he's being avoided, the way Brendon sprints in the opposite direction would probably be enough. And, as a bonus, Kevin is fairly certain that Spencer Smith is both stalking him and plotting his imminent demise. He doesn't know why he was ever scared of Mike -- Spencer is obviously the person everyone should be worried about.

By the time lunch rolls around, Kevin has the persistent feeling that he's being watched -- it's making him twitchy -- and decides he's not actually hungry anyway, so he makes his excuses to his brothers and wanders in the direction of the Arts corridor. He's not really going anywhere in particular, maybe the orchestra room, or maybe the library if there are people in there practicing already. Maybe it's the total unplanned-ness of the excursion that makes it possible, but Kevin turns the corner and runs directly into Mike.

They both have to catch their balance, and then a few seconds of thick, awkward silence tick by.

"Hey," Kevin chokes out at last, adding a completely dorky finger wave that he immediately wishes he could take back.

Mike's gaze flickers for a second, and he offers an equally hesitant, "Hey," before stepping out to move around Kevin. He's already halfway gone by the time Kevin spins around and manages to grab the edge of his sleeve.

"Wait -- !" Kevin says desperately, and he feels a little spike of hope when Mike stops instead of pulling away. "I..." And, okay, now would be a really great time for a plan, but Kevin doesn't actually have one of those. Time. He needs time, to have a plan. "Um. Would you meet me? Later, I mean," Kevin fumbles. "Tomorrow? After school?"

Mike turns to look at him, and Kevin drops his grip on Mike's sleeve. "Why?" Mike asks, his voice void of inflection. Kevin scrambles for something -- anything --

"Your guitar!" he says, maybe a little bit too loudly, as the idea blossoms in his head. "I need to give you back your guitar. It's at home." Kevin is probably imagining the fleeting look of sadness that crosses Mike's face.

Mike nods. "At the Jeep?" he suggests, and Kevin says, "Okay," and lets him walk away down the corridor.



Kevin has a plan now. Okay, so his plan mainly involves lots of apologizing and hoping that Mike will forgive him enough to pass on another apology to Brendon, at which time the plan sort of falls apart if Brendon still won't speak to Kevin, but he'll worry about that when the time comes. It's a plan. It's flawless. Kevin is confident.

And then, of course, he hears during fourth period that Mike got detention (the details are vague, but possibly involve someone ending up with a broken nose? Kevin is fairly certain the "someone" is not Mike, and he's pretty sure they do more than give you detention if you break someone's nose, so the whole story is rather suspect). This ... poses a problem for the plan. Two, in fact. Their names are Joe and Nick, and they are looking at Kevin suspiciously over their lunch trays.

"I promise, it's really nothing," Kevin assures them for the second time, but neither of them appears mollified. Nick is wearing his Concerned face, and Joe just looks sad.

"You don't have to deal with stuff on your own," Joe tells him, painfully sincere.

"Look, I'll only be a couple of hours. I promise," Kevin says, stabbing his meatloaf with his fork. "I ... I have to return something."

It's Joe, surprisingly enough, who connects the dots first. "The guitar. That's why you brought it today, right? You said you borrowed it."

Kevin nods. "Yeah. I need to give it back." His meatloaf is becoming progressively more shredded as the conversation continues. He's still not very hungry.

"And you have to do this alone. All by yourself. Without telling us where you're going or who you're meeting with," Nick deadpans, and, okay, on the surface maybe it's a little bit suspicious. Kevin sighs.

"Can you just," Kevin stops, because maybe after the last week it's too much to ask, but... "Can you just trust me? Please?" he asks, meeting Joe and Nick's eyes each in turn. "It's just something I have to do by myself. I'll be fine, really. Home before dinner."

His brothers share a heavily loaded glance, and Kevin holds his breath for the moment before Nick nods and Joe says, "If you're sure, Kev."

So Kevin waits around after school for an hour. He spends most of the time working on his stupid math problems so he doesn't have to drag the heavy book home, and the last ten minutes or so pacing the empty hallways, his nerves jangling. He waits until the clock at the end of the corridor shows the hour exactly, then heads out of the building toward the Jeep's usual space in the parking lot. Maybe not-being-early was a bad plan, though, because Mike is already there waiting, and Kevin feels impossibly vulnerable walking over to him.

Mike straightens up from where he's leaning on the Jeep as Kevin approaches, tucking his hands in his pockets. His tie is nowhere to be seen and his uniform shirt is untucked and wrinkled; Stella would never let Kevin or his brothers get away with something like that, but on Mike, it's perfect. Mike nods a greeting, and Kevin gulps and steps forward, offering the guitar case. Mike stares at it, long enough that Kevin starts to feel the strain of holding it out at that angle.

Eventually Mike reaches out to take the handle, sliding his hand in under Kevin's. For a second they stay like that, frozen in a state of almost-but-not-quite, then Kevin loosens his fingers and Mike's pulling the case away and sliding it into the back seat of the Jeep.

"Thanks," he tells Kevin, but it doesn't sound like gratitude. He starts around the Jeep, heading for the driver's side, leaving, and Kevin blurts out,

"I'msorry!" Fast and too loud, but Mike turns around to look at him. Kevin takes a deep but not very calming breath.

"I'm sorry," Kevin repeats, at a far more normal speed and volume. "I know ... I know that I messed everything up, and you don't want to talk to me. And that's -- " Kevin has to stop and swallow twice to keep his voice from cracking. "Well, it's not actually okay, but I get it. I do. I just ... I wanted to say that. I'm sorry," he finishes quietly, staring down at the asphalt to avoid looking at Mike, especially since Mike might just get in the Jeep and drive off, and Kevin doesn't know if he could watch him do that without his heart breaking, just a little.

He hears Mike's shoes scuffing on the pavement and his heart sinks, but then those same shoes appear on the edge of his vision.

"Wait," Mike says after a beat. "What the hell?" Kevin feels a stab of pain, that Mike is going to make him spell it all out, but this is the plan, he reminds himself.

"I shouldn't have..." He blushes. "With the ... licking, I shouldn't have done that." When he looks, Mike's face is closed off; a hard wall of expressionless stone. "I mean, I don't really know why you would've...it's not like I was even a cute girl or anything, and I shouldn't have assumed, and then I changed back and I know that made it weird? So I'm sorry I did that. I just ... liked you. Like you," Kevin says helplessly.

"You like me," Mike says, and there's something like disbelief ringing in the words. "Even though you're all -- ?" He gestures at Kevin. Male, Kevin assumes. He nods, then blanches.

"Um. If you wouldn't tell my parents about that, I'd appreciate it?" he adds in a small voice.

"You're serious," Mike says it like Kevin just told him the sky is made of elephants, and maybe this wasn't a very good plan after all.

"I'll leave you alone," Kevin says, feeling sort of beaten and worn around the edges, "If you want. I won't bother you or anything."

"Jesus Christ, kid," Mike swears, rubbing a hand over his face. He steps right up into Kevin's personal space before Kevin can think that maybe he should move back?-- and grabs the nape of Kevin's neck, threading his fingers through curls and pulling Kevin in close. Kevin kind of stops breathing.

"You can bother me all you want, okay?" Mike says, and then his lips are on Kevin's, warm and moist, and when Kevin gasps, Mike licks into his mouth and Kevin decides this was a very excellent plan.

"So," Kevin asks when the kiss breaks and he's not so breathless, "Um. Does that mean you like me, too?" Mike tugs Kevin closer and meets their foreheads together, chuffing out a laugh.

"Yeah," he confirms, scratching at the base of Kevin's skull with blunt fingernails. It feels kind of awesome. "That means I like you, too."

After that, they sort of end up making out against the side of the Jeep in the deserted parking lot, until Kevin's shirt is just as untucked and wrinkled as Mike's and the sky is beginning to turn sunset pink.

"I promised my brothers I'd be home before dinner," Kevin explains sadly, already missing the feeling of Mike's hands exploring his skin.

"It's fine," Mike says, conjuring a smile out of Kevin by kissing him again. "Do you want a ride?"

"If it's not any trouble?" Kevin had planned on walking home while wallowing in his misery. Climbing into the Jeep next to Mike is sort of surreal.

Mike stops at the usual corner, just up the block, and Kevin pauses before he gets out of the car. There's a really important part of the plan that he'd forgotten, what with all the kissing.

"Hey, can you, I mean, would you mind maybe telling Brendon that I'd really like to talk to him?" Kevin asks, clutching the strap of his bookbag tightly. "He won't talk to me at all, but I ... I really need to apologize to him, too."

The corner of Mike's mouth quirks up. "Cheating on me already?" he asks, affecting a hurt voice. Kevin gapes at him.

"That's not what I --" he protests, but Mike reaches out and snags one of his hands, lacing their fingers together and squeezing lightly.

"Relax. I'll tell him," Mike says seriously, "But I can't make any promises."

Kevin nods. "Thanks," he says, squeezing Mike's hand back and then releasing it so he can slide out of the car.

"'Night," Mike says, smiling. Kevin really loves Mike's smile; it's sort of secretly goofy looking, once you get to know it.

"'Night," he replies, and waves as Mike drives off. Watching the Jeep recede into the distance isn't actually painful at all.



Thursday dawns hopefully for Kevin. He still feels guilty, and has his mental fingers crossed that today, maybe, Brendon will be willing to talk to him. It's an incessant worry, but the negative is almost completely eclipsed by the way he feels when he thinks about Mike, who likes him and kissed him and might possibly be considered his boyfriend now.

It still hurts, a lot actually, that Brendon won't look at him in the halls that morning, but Kevin smiles at him anyway. He has no idea if Mike talked to Brendon yet or not, but it's out of Kevin's hands. If Brendon doesn't ever want to speak to him again, Kevin has decided, he won't push. (He'll be really sad, because Brendon is awesome and funny and appreciates hugging and has a five-point argument about why 'fucktard' should count in Scrabble, but he won't push.) And Spencer Smith is still stalking him, or at least glaring in his direction whenever he gets the opportunity, which seems to be often.

Yet somehow, none of it seems as difficult or tragic when he has the memory of Mike's hands on him, playing over and over in his head. It makes him blush to think about, but it also fills his stomach with happy butterflies, and Kevin feels like nothing can bring him down today. So when Mike presses up against him in the crowded hallway between classes and whispers, "Bleachers at lunchtime," in his ear, Kevin spends the next hour trying not to vibrate too excitedly.

When the bell rings, Kevin makes his way out to the athletic fields. The sky is slightly overcast and the croquet team is standing around in the middle of the field, not-practicing as usual, and Mike is sitting in the second row of the stands, his feet braced on the bench in front of him. Kevin slides in so their shoulders and thighs are brushing against each other and grabs Mike's hand. He's sort of angling for a kiss, but Mike doesn't go there.

"I talked to Brendon." He says instead. Kevin takes a shaky breath.

"And?" He prompts, squeezing Mike's hand in a way that's probably a little bit painful, but then, Mike, so maybe not.

"I don't know," Mike admits. "He didn't really say anything. Just that he'd think about it." Kevin swallows the lump in his throat. Thinking about it. Thinking about it is good. At least Brendon hadn't come back with an immediate, outright no.

Kevin scoots over another half an inch, right up against Mike's side. Mike lets go of his hand and wraps his arm around Kevin's waist, but then he says, "You have a tail." Which, Kevin does not, and even if it is possible to turn into a girl for a while, he's pretty sure someone would have noticed if people were growing tails all the time. He glares at Mike indignantly, but Mike just rolls his eyes at him.

"Not that kind. I meant you're being followed."

Oh.

"Oh. Yeah. Spencer Smith is stalking me," Kevin confirms, and maybe being out here with Mike is stupid and unsafe -- anyone could get a picture of them like this -- but the prospect isn't as scary now that he knows his brothers, at least, are okay with him just as he is.

"...Seriously?" Mike asks, raising an eyebrow. "Okay. Well, I don't know if he is or not; I was talking about them." He nods towards the other end of the bleachers. Kevin's heart pounds as he recognizes Joe and Nick. They're wearing trenchcoats, complete with matching fedoras and sunglasses.

"Wow, how did you even spot them?" Kevin asks, kind of impressed with Mike's observational skills. Mike stares at him.

"Sometimes I have no idea how you've survived this long," Mike sighs, and Kevin should probably be offended by that, but Mike's voice is fond and what they're doing could possibly be called 'cuddling', so he's really not. "Are you sure you want to..." He trails off but sort of shakes the arm that's around Kevin. "They're kind of obviously watching."

Kevin thinks for a second. "Do you care if they know?" He asks.

Mike shrugs. "Not really."

"Then I don't care, either." He decides, and tilts his face up in obvious invitation.

By the time he remembers that, oh, right, Joe and Nick are watching, Kevin has crawled halfway into Mike's lap and the lunch hour is nearly over. His brothers are nowhere to be seen, which is sort of a relief.

"Class," Mike reminds him. "Your parents'll be pissed if you skip anymore, right?" Kevin pouts, but yes, Mike is correct.

"And I have that history test to make up." Kevin cringes inside as he remembers. William told him most of what was covered on the test --

"Extenuating circumstances, oh fluffy one. Do not expect such assistance every time!" ("He'll totally help you every time," Brendon confided later.)

-- but he still has to take it. He glumly slides off of Mike and slouches on the bench.

"I've gotta get over to the science wing," Mike says, standing up and picking his bookbag up from the seat beside him. "Later, though?"

"Yeah," Kevin smiles, and Mike tugs gently on a curl of his hair before slipping down the steps and around the corner. Out on the field, the croquet team is still standing around not doing much of anything, though one of them seems to be making an effort to gather the wickets. Kevin sighs, then gathers his own things and starts making his way back toward the main classroom building.

It's then that Kevin learns an important lesson about Constant Vigilance. He's distracted, which is why he forgets, and which is why Spencer Smith manages to grab him by the elbow and shove him up against the wall of the equipment shed.

"I should kill you slowly," Spencer growls at Kevin, his eyes narrow and angry.

"Um," Kevin squeaks, glancing around to see if anyone is watching who might come to his rescue. There's no one.

"I can't believe you." Spencer is still growling. He's really good at it. "Not that I really know you, but I always thought you were a decent guy. How the fuck do you live with yourself?"

"I -- don't know?" Kevin winces as Spencer's palm smacks into the wall beside his face.

"So what? You just dump him? For Carden?" Spencer's eyes are blazing and he's honestly kind of terrifying for a guy who sometimes wears pink unicorn t-shirts when it's non-uniform day. But more importantly, Kevin realizes, there is a critical breakdown of communication happening here.

"Dump who?" Kevin asks, though it comes out more like a plea for his life (which it sort of is). For a second, Kevin is absolutely sure that Spencer is going to punch him in the face.

"Brendon, you dick!" he seethes, and Kevin blinks at him in shock.

"Brendon?" he repeats dumbly.

"Yeah," Spencer retorts, disdain dripping from every word, "Your boyfriend? Or I guess not anymore, since you're an asshole."

"What!?" Kevin splutters. He's come up with a number of reasons why Spencer Smith might have decided to start stalking him, but this was, honestly, not on the list. "Brendon isn't my boyfriend! He's never been my boyfriend!"

"Uh-huh." Spencer is unimpressed by this. "Then what the hell was that in the bathroom? And anyway, Ryan saw you two all over each other at Saporta's."

"Ryan?" Kevin wonders aloud, his brain flipping back through the hazy memories of the party. "Ryan Ross? From the band? Wait, you know him?"

Spencer scoffs. "He's been my best friend since I was four. And he saw you there. Together." He says 'together' like he thinks Kevin and Brendon were like, having sex in front of everybody or something, and Kevin blushes despite himself.

"Okay, wait. You've got this all wrong," Kevin hastens to explain before Spencer goes back to his 'Kill Kevin' plan. "It's not like that, at all. We're just... Brendon and I are hug people! That's all. Hugs are good! So there was hugging." He waves his hands around in what he hopes is a conciliatory manner. "And Ryan was being all creepy and staring at Brendon all night anyway." Spencer's eyes narrow a little, and Kevin reminds himself, best friend and avoids that topic.

"We ... I did something stupid," he admits, "and Brendon's mad at me, but I didn't dump him! I was never dating him! He's, well, he was my friend -- just my friend -- and even if I did like him like that, he's got a crush on you, anyway, so it's not like it would have worked out. I swear, I didn't dump him or anything like that. I mean, I screwed up, but I didn't -- "

"On me?" Spencer cuts in, suddenly looking a lot less threatening and more like Kevin just smacked him in the face with a mackerel. (Which he hasn't, because he wouldn't do that, and doesn't have a mackerel in any case.)

It takes Kevin a second to rewind his babble. "Oh, crap." He claps a hand over his mouth as if that could reverse time and stop the words from escaping. "Um. I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to say that." Brendon is going to hate him. Even more than he might already.

"He has a crush on me?" Spencer's face softens to a wondering expression, possibly bordering on an actual smile. He's sort of shockingly pretty when he's not making angry faces.

Kevin slumps against the wall of the equipment shed. "You're probably not going to believe me if I say 'no' at this point, are you?" he asks dejectedly.

"Probably not," Spencer confirms. "But, seriously? I mean, if I asked him out or something, he'd say yes?"

Kevin wonders how he went from imminent homicide victim to relationship counselor in less than two minutes. "Maybe? I don't really ... He's mad at me right now," Kevin explains. "I don't know. I guess so?"

Spencer shoots Kevin a smile that's just a few shades short of blinding. "Oh. Um. Sorry for the whole, uh, threatening you with death thing," he says awkwardly.

"It's okay," Kevin reassures him just as the bell rings, officially ending the lunch hour and declaring Kevin late for his make-up history exam. Crap.



The make-up exam isn't pretty, but the upshot of it is that Kevin is mostly-sure he's not going to fail AP History this semester, and that's all he was aiming for. So all is well, at least until he gets to orchestra and realizes that Brendon isn't there. In fact, Brendon doesn't appear at any point during the whole hour, and Spencer is back to glaring at Kevin like he's trying to see if he can set things on fire with his eyes. Kevin takes his time putting his guitar away, completely unsurprised that Spencer hangs back as the rest of the students file out of the room. This time, he won't be intimidated. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks Spencer square in the eyes.

"What did you do?" he demands in his most demanding voice. Because the thing is, Brendon has been avoiding Kevin all week, but he hasn't actually skipped a class because of it.

"What did I do!?" Spencer retorts, mirroring Kevin's stance but doing it with a level of styled bitchiness that Kevin has yet to master. "All I did was ask him if he wanted to go to a movie with me on Friday, as I had been told by someone that he would probably say yes. Not look at me like I just killed his puppy and run away!"

Kevin blanches. "Oh, no," he murmurs, and Spencer scowls more deeply. But he's done it again; he didn't think and Brendon ... Kevin wants to beat his head against something solid, but that won't help anyone.

"Look, I didn't lie to you, okay? I'm sorry, I have to go find him, but just -- Brendon. He's," Kevin pauses, biting his tongue. This, he can't say. He won't say. "He's really special. And he's worth waiting for. So will you?" Kevin has to ask, because he was wrong before. Brendon wouldn't say yes. Of course Brendon wouldn't say yes. But he might, eventually.

Spencer isn't glaring as much now, and he's uncrossed his arms, letting them hang at his sides. "Of course I will. What the fuck, you thought I was just trying to get in his pants? Fuck you." The words maybe should be biting, but Kevin get the feeling that Spencer is almost hurt.

He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter what I think. It matters what Brendon thinks, okay? So give him time, okay? He really does like you." Kevin glances at the clock on the wall. The next class period is going to start soon, and he has to find Mike, or at least William. "I have to go," he says, and slips past Spencer and out the door before Spencer's protest of, "Hey!" can become an attempt to catch him.

Kevin finds Mike coming out of the science wing, his bio textbook tucked under his arm. "What's wrong?" He asks as soon as he sees Kevin, and Kevin immediately feels relieved.

"We have to find Brendon."

Once Kevin has explained the situation, complete with several false-starts, Mike makes an executive decision and hauls Kevin down the hallway, depositing him outside the door to his next class (Kevin is only moderately surprised that Mike knows which room he's supposed to be in).

"You can't miss class. I'll find him," Mike promises, shoving Kevin inside just as the bell rings. He doesn't have any of his books, but at least he's there.

The hour drags on and on and Kevin's mind supplies him with a thousand scenarios, none of which are particularly encouraging. His efforts to focus on positive outcomes generally still end with Brendon happy but hating him forever. By the time the class ends, Kevin is convinced that this whole incident will continue to haunt him for the rest of his days, culminating in a Behind the Music special about how his spiraling depression and inability to let go of the past resulted in some sort of breakdown. He'll probably be found dead, surrounded by hookers and cocaine. There is a grim sense of doom creeping over everything.

Luckily, William is waiting outside the door when he steps into the hallway.

"Bden has been located," he says without preamble, and Kevin slumps against the wall of lockers in relief.

"Oh, thank God," Kevin says, maybe the most authentic prayer he's uttered in a while.

"I am taking him home. You," William says, placing both hands square on Kevin's shoulders and squeezing just a shade too tightly for the gesture to be entirely friendly, "will meet Michael in the parking lot after school." Kevin opens his mouth to protest -- his parents still want him home soon after school finishes, he's going to be in so much trouble -- but shuts it abruptly and nods.

"Okay," he agrees, and William gives him an approving smile.

"Good," he says, apparently satisfied, then pulls Kevin in for an unexpected but not unwelcome hug. "It'll be fine, Fluffy. It's not your fault."

Kevin fights the urge to argue that point.

William disappears with his usual suddenness, leaving Kevin to go to his locker and actually retrieve his books for his next and final class of the day. It's English, which isn't too bad, but Kevin has trouble following Eliot on a good day, and this is not one of those. He spots Mike further down the hallway as he trudges to class, but he holds himself back from calling out to him when he realizes that Mike isn't alone. Instead, he's talking to Spencer Smith, who's leaning against his locker with the sort of carefully-studied casualness that says he's prepared, should the wild animal he's facing down decide to leap for his throat. After everything that's happened, Kevin can't help but find it funny that anyone is scared of Mike, especially Spencer of the Death Glare.

But scared he seems to be, or at least intimidated. Mike's got his scary face on, not the goofy smile Kevin much prefers, and he's speaking seriously while Spencer nods and, apparently, gives conciliatory answers. When Mike turns away, he misses the look of mixed apprehension, confusion, and curiosity that Spencer levels at his back. He starts smiling, though, even before he sees Kevin, so Kevin takes that as a good sign.

"What were you talking to Spencer about?" Kevin asks. Does Mike not know that William found Brendon?

Mike's smile takes on a slightly terrifying edge. "Nothing really," he says after a pause. "You're coming to Bill's later, right?" Kevin nods in confirmation. It can't end well, but he'll be there.

"Are you sure -- I mean, does Brendon even want to talk to me?"

Mike shrugs. "Maybe? Look, I know you think you fucked up," Kevin doesn't even flinch when Mike swears, which he considers a personal victory, "But I think you're blowing it out of proportion. You didn't do anything on purpose, right? Brendon's a good guy. He's just freaking out right now."

Kevin takes a deep breath and tries to let Mike's words sink in and calm him. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right." He tightens his grip on The Waste Land.

"Go to class," Mike tells him, reaching out a hand to push some of his curls behind his ear. The gesture makes Kevin feel kind of melty; he's glad Mike seems to be fond of playing with his hair.

"We'll have to make a fast getaway to escape my brothers," Kevin says, though Nick and Joe have been almost suspiciously lax in their spying since lunchtime.

Mike snorts quietly. "I think we can manage."



William's house is quiet when they get there. The woman on the couch isn't, for once, and it looks like someone made an effort to clear the empty bottles and full ashtrays from the room. As soon as his feet hit the stairs, Kevin is tempted to turn around and leave again. But Mike is behind him, warm and solid and also blocking his escape route, so Kevin clenches his fists to fortify himself and continues up to William's room.

Brendon is huddled in one of the beanbag chairs, reading a slightly worn Batman comic. He looks up warily as Kevin steps into the room and then immediately toward the center so he can avoid hitting his head. William spins around in his desk chair, closing the notebook he was scribbling in.

"Hey," Kevin offers, raising a hand in a tentative greeting.

William nods approvingly. "Glad you made it."

Brendon raises a tentative hand of his own, but he doesn't say anything. Kevin's stomach can't decide if it's full of butterflies or lead. Maybe it's full of butterflies made of lead? Willing the leaden butterflies to quiet themselves just for a few minutes, he takes two steps toward Brendon and drops down cross-legged on the carpet. Brendon looks startled, licking his lips reflexively as his eyes dart toward the door. He's got the same Mike-shaped roadblock problem Kevin had before, though.

Kevin's run through this conversation a thousand times in his head, but nothing ever seemed right. So, faced with Brendon right here, with William looking on curiously and Mike at his back, he decides to go for the most direct route.

"I was a dick to you, and I'm really sorry."

Brendon looks even more startled at that, and William can't keep from letting out a short laugh, though he recovers himself quickly.

"I didn't think about what it would be like, for you, when I changed back." Kevin fights not to trip over his own tongue getting the words out. "I should have. You were so great to me, and I was really ... insensitive." It's not a big enough word to encompass what Kevin wants to say, but it's the best he can think of.

Brendon is crumpling Batman in his grip, until he notices what he's doing and very deliberately straightens out the creases and sets the comic to the side.

"That's not -- " Brendon's voice is pitching upward; he stops and takes two deep breaths before trying again. "I won't say it didn't hurt," he admits, and Kevin wishes they were back on hugging terms already because there's nothing he wants to do more than try to cuddle Brendon better. "But it's not you. Or like, not only you. I didn't ... I didn't think about it either, you know? Until it happened. You ... changed back ... and then I was feeling all this stuff and I kind of flipped out. So I'm sorry, for that. For making you feel like it was all your fault," he says, and Kevin's already shaking his head, because no, it is his fault and he's not going to let Brendon beat himself up for Kevin's stupidity.

But Brendon's not done, and no amount of deep breathing can stop his voice from cracking when he says, "But I can't -- you told Spencer?" Kevin feels like he was just punched in the gut. "Why would you -- how could you do that?" Brendon snaps his mouth shut like speaking is physically painful, turning away from Kevin.

"I didn't!" Kevin says, more a gasp than a sentence. "Brendon, no, I didn't, I wouldn't do that! I would never ... I didn't tell Spencer anything, okay? Please -- !"

Brendon's face is red and blotchy and he looks like he's not too far from actual tears. Kevin balls his fists and stares down at the carpet.

"All I told him," Kevin says quietly, "is that you like him. Liked him. That's it. I promise." He doesn't know if this is helping at all.

"But why?" Brendon's so quiet, and it's so wrong on him.

Kevin fights for the best way to explain this, but decides that honesty is the better part of valor. "Um. He threatened to kill me for dumping you and breaking your heart?"

Brendon blinks at Kevin, and there's a long, long silence before William says, "Seriously?" from the other side of the room, and Brendon almost, almost cracks a smile.

"Yeah. He, um, he's friends with Ryan? From Pete's band? And he saw us at the party and thought ... and, well, then Spencer saw me and Mike and, um. Well." Kevin blushes. It's all so ridiculous and embarrassing.

"Really now?" William says in a terrifying voice, raising an eyebrow at Mike. "Carden, you've been holding out on us!"

Oops. Kevin thinks. Although, William knowing that he and Mike are ... people who kiss sometimes, is the least of his worries.

Brendon shifts in his beanbag, and Kevin watches him warily.

"...He really did that?" Brendon asks at length, and Kevin nods. "That's ... kind of sweet. Right?" Kevin doesn't know why Brendon needs confirmation of this from him, but he thinks about it, and yeah, he supposes that if you were the one whose honor was being defended rather than the one being threatened with death, it might be kind of sweet.

"Yeah," Kevin finally agrees. "He seemed really upset that he, y'know. Upset you. I didn't mean to tell him, but he seemed really happy, when he found out you liked him, too."

Brendon hugs himself tightly, thinking things over. "But what if he doesn't like me? I mean me, me. If he doesn't know..." Brendon looks lost and more than a little scared, so it's probably a good thing that William finally moves from his desk chair and squishes in behind Brendon on the beanbag, severely testing its capacity.

"So don't tell him," William says, and Brendon starts to make a noise of protest but William squishes him tighter and continues, "Not right away. If you go out on two dates and decide you hate each other, he doesn't need to know. And if you fall madly in love and decide to go full-on Brangelina and adopt a houseful of African orphans, then you tell him."

"And if he's an asshole about it, I'll kill him slowly and painfully," Mike adds, stepping up behind Kevin and resting a hand on top of his head.

Brendon smiles at Mike and leans back into William's embrace.

"Do you think he'll hate me for flipping out on him, though? I kind of ... He asked me out and I ran away." Brendon's face twists up in a moue of worry.

Mike shrugs and lowers himself into the beanbag behind Kevin, and Kevin scoots back a few inches so he can lean against Mike's calf.

"He didn't flee in terror when I gave him the shovel speech," Mike says, and this apparently means something to Brendon because his face lights up like someone plugged in a thousand-watt bulb.

"Yeah?" he asks hopefully, and Mike says, "Yeah," and Kevin is clearly missing something, but the way Brendon manages to tackle-hug both of them at once leaves him feeling pretty optimistic.



"I'm probably going to be grounded again," Kevin comments as Mike pulls the Jeep over to the curb just behind the firehouse. A startled rat scurries down the alley toward the safety of the dumpsters at the far end. Kevin's not too worried about the grounding, honestly. Even if his parents decide to lock him in the house forever, they'll forget all about it in a few weeks when report cards are handed out and they see Joe's math grade. The disappointed looks in the meantime, though ...

"Sorry," Mike says, squeezing Kevin's hand, and Kevin squeezes back but shakes his head.

"Don't be. This was the right thing to do." Kevin is sure of that, one-hundred-percent. "I'll see you tomorrow?" Kevin says, and he doesn't actually intend for it to be a question but it comes out as one anyway. Mike's smile is all fond amusement, though, and Kevin sort of loves that Mike doesn't care that he fails at life sometimes. A lot of the time. Whatever, he's trying and that's the important thing.

"Of course," Mike says, like it's a given, and Kevin's stomach flips over because maybe it is. Mike's lips are a little dry, but warm and pleasant and Kevin leans into Mike's hand on the side of his face and opens up to the kiss. There's less touching than Kevin is willing to go for (and sort of hoping for), mostly because Mike is still wearing his seatbelt, but at some point, Kevin thinks, they will find the time to be alone without seatbelts or impending groundings, and the anticipation of it sends a little thrill through him.

The "Ah-hem," from beside the Jeep startles both of them, but at least Kevin recognizes immediately that it's not his father's voice, or Big Rob's. It's Joe, standing there looking bemused and delighted (which is roughly the same look he gets whenever Nick's got a new crush, and Kevin feels like an idiot for not anticipating that), and wearing one of the rappelling harnesses, a long stretch of rope trailing behind him up to the loft window where Nick is looking mildly pissed-off, as usual.

"Time to stop making out with your boyfriend," Joe says gleefully, and Kevin isn't looking forward to the ribbing he's going to get over the next few days or weeks (however long it takes for Joe to get bored and move on to something else), but he can't help the way his heart pounds a little harder at 'boyfriend'. "Mom's gonna be done with dinner soon, and we can't keep pretending you're doing homework forever." He tosses Kevin the second harness, blithely ignoring Mike's raised eyebrow.

"Um, I have to go," Kevin says, and Mike says, "Yeah, I got that," with a note of amusement in his voice, and kisses Kevin one more time for good measure while Joe makes fake gagging noises.

"So, boyfriend?" he murmurs in Kevin's ear, too quietly for Joe to overhear. Kevin licks his lips nervously.

"I didn't tell him that," he hedges, unsure. Mike chuckles and tucks a stray curl behind Kevin's ear, possibly not oblivious to how that makes Kevin feel kind of melty every time he does it.

"I could do boyfriend," Mike says, and this time Kevin kisses him, swift and happy, even though he's sure he's blushing furiously the whole time.

"Hurry up!" Nick whisper-yells from the window, and Kevin slides out of the Jeep and into his harness while Joe begins his return ascent. At that moment, Kevin feels like he doesn't even need the harness, like he could just fly to the window. But, well, gravity, so he settles for climbing up the wall after Joe and sticking his head back out the window once he's inside so he can wave goodnight before Mike drives away.

"You guys really covered for me?" Kevin asks as he strips out of the harness again and takes over coiling the ropes from Joe, who always gets his hopelessly tangled.

"Yeah, well." Nick shrugs and looks away, embarrassed.

"Thanks, Nicky," Kevin says, heartfelt even if the nickname earns him a glare.

"Just don't get pregnant!" Joe quips, and Kevin laughs so hard he can barely breathe.

Fin



Masterpost | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3