Chapter Text
“I’m so excited!” Jehan said with a smile from the passenger seat as Feuilly drove them to the local Family Services station. “Do you think he’ll be sweet?” Feuilly shrugged.
“Don’t get too excited, Sweet,” he replied. “The social worker said he was abused. He might not be all that…affectionate.”
“But me and you, we’ll make him so happy, I know it! I can’t wait! We’ll have to go out and get him all new furniture for his bedroom and decorate and get his favorite food and everything!” Jehan cooed as they parked, grinning from ear to ear. Feuilly parked the car and ran around to Jehan’s door, opening it and lifting him out, spinning him around. His flow-y sleeves billowing as he twirled. Then Feuilly put him down and hugged him tight.
“Love you.”
“Love you too, Dearest.” They walked inside, hand in hand, to meet the child they were to foster.
“You’re Feuilly and Jean Prouvaire?” the woman as the front desk asked, looking through her papers.
“That’s us.” Feuilly replied with a little grin.
“You’re here for Lyle! He’s waiting for you in the next room over with a social worker. I’ll show you back.” She smiled, leading Feuilly and Jehan down a short hallway and opening a door to a smallish room, containing a sofa, two armchairs, and a coffee table. There, a woman sat on a chair in the corner, and a young boy sat on the sofa, pressed into the corner, his hands clasped in his lap, looking down. He looked rather dejected, and Jehan was immediately concerned.
“Hello, Lyle!” he said lightly in an effort to cheer the child up. He did not react.
“Lyle, this is Feuilly and Jean Prouvaire.”
“We liked your letters.” Feuilly smiled. They had received a few short letters in the mail from the little boy. Though all of them seemed forced and generic, they still brought a smile to Jehan and Feuilly’s faces. They had entered the foster program a year ago, but hadn’t been called to care for a child until now. They were both very excited, though Jehan showed it more obviously than Feuilly.
Still, Lyle did not look up.
“Could you say hello, Lyle?” the woman in the chair asked. The little boy finally looked up, sad, brown eyes looking straight to Feuilly and Jehan.
“Hello.” He said quietly, returning his gaze to the stuffed dog sitting in his lap.
“Oh I like your puppy!” Jehan cooed, sitting on the opposite end of the sofa from the little boy. “I have a raccoon that Feuilly gave me. I still sleep with it at night, sometimes.” He admitted, his soft-spoken nature seeming to incite a smile from the little boy, though it was brief.
“We thought you’d be a good fit for Lyle. You both seem very soft spoken and quiet. There was quite a bit of verbal abuse in his previous household, and I didn’t want to expose him to any more of that” the social worker explained quietly to Feuilly as Jehan continued to acquaint himself with Lyle, speaking with him softly, hardly more than a whisper. He took the circlet of flowers off his own head and placed it on Lyle’s gently.
“We also chose you two for Jean Prouvaire’s mannerisms…” she added in a whisper to Feuilly.
“What do you mean?” he replied, slightly worried. What did she mean ‘mannerisms’? Jehan was quirky, yes, but he didn’t think he’d be considered especially different from anyone else.
“He’s quiet and has a…feminine air about him, for lack of a better adjective. I don’t mean to offend.”
“No it’s okay. He knows he looks like a girl.” Feuilly replied with a chuckle.
“Lyle lived with his father, and while I think he needs to get over his fear of other men, I didn’t want him to be frightened. That being said, do not take it personally if he shies away from you and prefers Jean Prouvaire.” She explained. “It’s all in the information packet I mailed you.”
“Yup. We read that all the way through.” Feuilly said with a smile. He and Jehan had more or less memorized all of the information concerning Lyle. They wanted to do this right, and they wanted the little boy to be happy with them.
“Lyle, are you ready to go?” the woman asked him after a moment. The little boy became closed off again, taking the ring of flowers off his head and holding it nervously in his lap with his stuffed dog. He shrugged.
“We’ve got a room all set up just for you!” Jehan cooed.
“My own room?” the little boy asked quietly. Nobody understood what he said besides Jehan.
“Yup. Your very own room. We didn’t decorate it, though…We wanted to wait to see what you liked.” He explained. “Would you like to see?” Lyle nodded.
“I got your bags!” Feuilly said, lifting up the two large suitcases of Lyle’s belongings.
“Call if you need anything! Lyle, you know the number if you need us, too.” The social worker said with a smile. Lyle followed Feuilly and Jehan out of the room and to the car, holding Jehan’s hand tightly, watching Feuilly, leery.
—o0o—
“Your room is upstairs!” Jehan said, bouncing into the house, followed by Lyle, who watched his excitement, giggling. “Come see!” He hurried up the stairs. Lyle followed, but stopped short when he realized Feuilly was behind him. He seemed to recoil into himself, sitting on the stairs, horror in his face.
“Feuilly.” Jehan called from the top of the stairs. Feuilly looked up, and Jehan motioned to Lyle with his head.
“Oh.” Feuilly headed back down the stairs and sitting on the chair near the door. He offered Lyle a smile, which he did not return. Instead, he scurried up the stairs, using his hands as well as his little legs in his ascent. He followed Jehan down the hall, into what was previously the guest bedroom.
“Sorry the walls are pink!” Jehan said as Lyle entered, immediately heading toward the king-size bed and sitting on it. He smiled. “We didn’t want to paint it or anything…we weren’t sure what you like.”
“I like pink.” He said quietly, looking around.
“Oh it’s okay if you don’t! We can paint again, if you’d like.”
“No I like pink.” He said again, pulling up the cuffs of his jeans, showing off a pair of bright pink socks. Jehan smiled.
“I do too.” He replied, showing off his own pair of pale pink socks, decorated with white hearts.
“I like those.” Lyle said.
“These are my favorite socks. Feuilly gave them to me for my birthday when I turned 20.” He explained. “I only wear them on special days so they don’t wear out!” Lyle looked around the room, up at the crown molding, at the massive walk-in closet, the door hanging half open in the corner. He admired the pale pink and green floral bedspread and crisp white sheets.
“You’re rich.” He said quietly. Jehan chuckled, unsure what to say.
“It’s all in my family. My grandpa made most of the money, but Feuilly and I both work hard, too. It’s good to work for what you have.” He explained.
“do you have a—” he cut off when Feuilly knocked on the doorframe, smiling as he delivered Lyle’s luggage.
“Hi.” He said simply with a little wave. Lyle only looked at him, silent. Jehan stood up from the bed and gave Feuilly a hug, hoping to convey to Lyle that Fueilly wasn’t scary in the least. Feuilly kissed Jehan’s hair.
“Thank you for bringing everything up, Dearest.” He said with a sweet smile.
“Sure. I’ll start dinner, I guess. What’s your favorite, Lyle?” Feuilly asked. Lyle did not reply.
“We’ll make whatever you like best!” Jehan added.
“Take away pizza.” He replied quietly.
“That’s my favorite too.” Feuilly chuckled.
“What would you like on it?” Jehan asked with a smile.
“Onions and mushrooms.” He said.
“Bleh! I don’t like mushrooms!” Feuilly made a face, meaning to make Lyle laugh, but instead he flinched and began to cry quietly. Jehan ran to his side.
“Oh baby don’t cry! It’s alright!”
“Sorry. I was trying to make you laugh…Guess not, huh?” Feuilly said apologetically.
“Don’t get that. Don’t get mushrooms!” Lyle chanted into Jehan, rocking back and forth, his hands over his face, as if defending himself.
“It’s alright. Feuilly doesn’t mind. We’ll get half onions and mushrooms, half plain for Feuilly, alright?”
“No. No he’ll be mad.” He sobbed.
“I won’t be mad!” Feuilly smiled. “I don’t really get mad, kiddo.” He chuckled.
“Nothing you do will make us angry with you. Don’t you worry. Would you like a hug?” Jehan asked. Lyle nodded and climbed into Jehan’s lap. Jehan put his arms around the little boy and hugged him tight. Feuilly embraced both of them, holding them both in his strong arms. Lyle seemed nervous when Feuilly joined in, but seemed to cheer up, and stopped crying.
“Want to go pick up the pizza with me?” Jehan asked Lyle. He nodded, and Jehan smiled.