Chapter Text
The late chill of the winter night bounces off of still sidewalks and crisp dry air. There’s an unnoticed hum carrying itself through the rays of light from the lamp posts as they beat down to illuminate the grey pavement. The sky twinkled bright as it gazed down into the deep indigos and pinky hues which swirl into an endless sky.
On nights like this, Etho stayed stirring and waiting in an anxiety driven wake in his room. It was small and relatively bare, seeing as he didn’t find much use for having too many things since he knew he would be moving house a lot sooner than later. All the lights were off, and if not for him being situated by the dull lit window, he’d be sat in complete darkness.
He could hear the faint echo of his father coughing from the room down the hall, and the slight noise of his mother’s busy footsteps met his ears as he shivered. He couldn’t do anything to better his father’s situation, he knew that much. He didn’t even have a proper job to help pay for anything. The white haired male shook his head, squeezing his eyes together as he wrapped his arms around himself. He didn’t want to be home tonight.
He raises from where he had been sitting, his head spinning from the unexpected speed of it, before stabilizing himself and pulling on a thin sweater and pair of jeans. He makes quick work as he slips on a random pair of shoes and sneaks his way out of his window.
It’s never a hard task to be done, and a brief memory of the first time he had done this to escape an argument with his dad, echoes in his head before his foot reaches the floor. Next thing he knows, he’s running down the street. The destination hasn’t registered in his brain yet, but he trusts that his feet know where to take him, and so he follows accordingly.
Surely enough, heterochromatic eyes focus on the familiar concrete driveway of Beef’s house and he sighs in a silent defeat. All roads take him back to the boy he’d fallen in love with, apparently. He attempts to shake the thought out of his head, and picks up a handful of pebbles (so small they might as well be sand), from the grout of the floor and tosses it to tap against Beef’s window. The light is on and he knows for a fact that even though it’s nearly midnight, the brunette is still up to some degree.
Almost as if in a queue, Etho watches with wide expecting eyes as the silhouette of Beef approaches and opens the window before he sticks his head out. He shouts a practically frantic, “Etho?! What the heck are you doing here? It’s almost midnight!” It’s such a Beef thing to say . Voice laced in so much raw and unfiltered worry and concern, and yet spiked with a comical genuinity.
Their eyes meet and Etho breathes in a cold and staggered breath, he’s melting at the deep blue ceruleans with embarrassingly weak knees. But the bitter sweet pang of knowing that Beef doesn’t reciprocate the syncopated beating of his own heart beat, grounds him back to earth.
So he fixes on a crooked smile and utters an even, “Can I stay over tonight?”
And Beef says yes.
Of course he says yes.
That’s just how he is. He’s sweet and kind, and lovely, and amazing. And despite all the teasing and jokes made, he’s still the same genuine and soft Beef that will always open the door of his home to Etho. No matter how undeserving of it Etho might be.
Because even if Etho is wrongfully in love with his best friend, even if his parents don’t agree and want Etho to marry a nice girl, even if Etho is unable to make money to support his family, even if Etho feels insignificant and small: Beef still smiles at him the same.
Which is exactly why he can’t tell Beef that he’s moving back to Canada. Or that his father is starting to get worse with his sickness. Or even that he is in love with him. No- that is especially why he can’t tell him that he is in love with him.
Etho can’t afford losing Beef, not yet at least.
So he selfishly allows himself to enjoy the moment and the feeling of being accepted into the cozy house he has become so familiar with. And he walks through the foyer and up the stairs, and into Beef’s room as if it were just another regular night of him staying over, and not like he is trying to bury his dread of the future by surrounding himself in the closest thing he could get to being with the person he cares about most.
They make quick work in settling down for the night, and Etho silently ponders the mere idea of maybe, what if for just this once, the other would push aside Etho’s boundaries just a bit and pry as to why he was here. But Beef was patient and respectful, and never expected anything of Etho if the younger didn’t want to say it out in the open in the first place. And he knew this.
Etho curls up on the couch and he can feel the soft weight of his usual blanket being draped over him. He smiles to himself before uttering a soft, “G’night Beefers.”
“Good night, Etho.” Fills the room and Etho can feel himself exhale for the first time since entering the proximity of the home. It’s warm and comfortable and he wants to savor the moment while he has it, but he knows that finals are tomorrow and the world will only keep on spinning whether he’d like it to or not.
Before he drifts into a final slumber for the night, the pitiful dread of not being able to muster the courage to tell Beef the real reason why he is here, or why he wants to spend as much time with him as possible, pools into his gut and leaves him dizzy and weak. With one last prayer, he phantoms the wish that Beef will just forget him when he leaves.
‘You’ll be so much better off if you just forget me when you’re famous.’