Chapter Text
Content Warning: This fic contains some internalised homophobia.
When Kevin Price was paired together with Arnold Cunningham for his Mormon history presentation, he thought, okay, let’s give this a shot.
I mean, yeah, he was hoping to be paired with Orlando Michaels, who was an admirable classmate and probably the closest to Kevin in grades. Kevin was, naturally, highest ranked in his class, or so he assumed, so second-place Orlando would be an ideal second-in-command.
But still, Arnold was probably the next best option. When the professor had paired the two together, he had whipped his head around and given Kevin the biggest, most sincere grin he had ever seen. It had almost distracted him from noticing that Arnold had a video game open on his laptop screen instead of the syllabus like everyone else in class.
And sure, Cunningham was a little too excited about the Lord of the Star Treks, or whatever it was called, but the shorter boy had already declared the two as new “best buddies” and laughed at three out of four of Kevin’s jokes. Kevin had never thought of himself as a funny guy, so he had to admit that it felt a little good. Even better, he had offered for Kevin to come work on the project at his dorm room, so they wouldn’t have to fight for a space in the crowded library, or for quiet at the seven-person Price family home, or for control over a shared Google Doc.
Kevin still didn’t quite have the handle of the internet, anyway. His parents didn’t allow personal devices like laptops or smartphones until he begged for one in college (“Everyone has one,” he had pleaded, “even the bishops,”), so the family usually fought over the dusty old desktop in his dad’s office for ten minutes of checking emails or parent-supervised YouTube time. Not to mention that social media was a definite no, no way, it’ll just tempt you into immoral behaviour, so he couldn’t even add Arnold on Facebook. Instead, they had to swap phone numbers, which was oddly intimate for a first meeting. Arnold had laughed at Kevin’s flip phone; another consequence of his father’s mistrust of modern technology.
“Dude, I didn’t even know they made these anymore,” he had said, pushing his glasses up to his nose with a sweaty finger while examining it, flipping it open and closed, open and closed. He prodded the small screen, as if testing to see if it was a touch screen. It was not.
Kevin made a mental note to ask – no, beg – for a new phone for his birthday.
“Oh, well, my parents said a smartphone would be too distracting,” Kevin said, avoiding eye contact and shifting his weight from one foot to another, “you know, Corinthians chapter six, verse eighteen…run from anything tempting sin.”
“No,” Arnold said, blankly. “I don’t. Guess I missed that verse. But that is so cool. Retro!”
He tossed the phone back in Kevin’s direction, who stumbled and almost dropped it on the concrete.
***
The pair resolved to meet later that night, after classes finished, and soon enough Kevin was making his way up the steps of the small dorm that Arnold lived in on campus. Arnold had told him to not bother knocking: just walk right in, he had said, but the thought of acting so familiarly filled Kevin’s stomach with butterflies. So, he knocked.
He heard some muffled voices speaking within – it sounded like the familiar back and forth of an argument – then came the sound of deliberate footsteps before the door flung open and Kevin found himself face to face with an incredibly attractive red-haired man who was certainly not Arnold Cunningham.
Kevin opened his mouth to speak, to introduce himself or say something eloquent, like, you come here often, stranger? But he found that all words had left him. “Um, hi,” he said, “Arnold…I’m Arnold. No, I mean, I’m looking for Arnold.”
The guy rolled his eyes (they were a gorgeous shade of blue, Kevin noticed) and craned his head back towards the room. “It’s not the pizza guy, Arn. You owe me five bucks.”
There was the pitter-patter of tiny feet waddling to the door and then the familiar curls of Arnold popped out. “Oh, Kevin! Hey. Come in! Please ignore the help.”
‘The help’ elbowed the shorter boy, with a strained smile that clearly read I-am-going-to-kill-you-later-when-no-one-is-around , and blurted out “shut up, man,” before turning to Kevin. “He’s joking. I’m Connor.”
“Hi,” Kevin said, a polite smile plastered on his face, and thrust his arm out for a handshake. His father had always told him that a firm grip was the key to making a good impression. “My name is Kevin. Kevin Price.”
“Ah, yes. The man himself. Arnold’s been telling me about you,” and upon noticing Kevin’s breath hitch, he added, “all good things, don’t worry.” Connor shot another glance back at Cunningham. “His hair’s not as swoopy as I thought it’d be, but it sure is nice, isn’t it?”
Kevin felt himself flush and looked down at his feet. Thirty minutes in the bathroom that morning (ten minutes of which was spent fighting for mirror space with his older sister) had paid off handsomely. The two boys finally moved from the doorway, and Kevin removed his shoes, dusted them off and left them by the door.
The dorm was quite small and cluttered, as college dorms tended to be, with movie posters plastered on the walls, a messily made bunk bed pushed against the corner and a small television blaring a film loudly in the background. Two bean bags, clearly recently sat in, circled the tv, with a half-eaten potato chip bag strewn nearby.
Arnold darted over to two desks, pushed together at the back of the room and swept a large pile of old papers off of them, then beckoned to Kevin to take a seat next to him. Connor switched off the television and climbed up to the top bunk.
“Don’t mind me,” he said, reclining back, “just pretend I’m not even here.” And with that, he pulled out a magazine from the deep recesses beneath his pillow and began to flick through it.
This proved to be an almost impossible feat, for, you see, Kevin was gay. And yes, he was still a Mormon, it was possible, which Kevin knew from many, many hours of research during sleepless nights. Experiencing same-sex attraction was not in itself a sin, only the actual acting upon these desires were. Kevin was not planning to act on these desires. He was planning to keep attending church, and to keep praying, and to eventually marry a woman and have children. Just like Heavenly Father had planned for him; like his parents had planned for him. Until then, no one had to know.
But Connor was very handsome, and it wasn’t a sin to stare. Kevin kept sneaking glances at his long legs hanging lazily over the edge of the bed as he and Arnold began getting out their school stuff.
Working on the project, too, proved to be more difficult than Kevin had expected. Keeping Arnold focused on the task at hand was like pulling teeth. The project should’ve been easily done, Kevin thought, it was beginner’s level stuff, a short two-minute presentation summarising scriptures he could recite in his sleep. But whenever he tried to allocate parts, or make presentation slides, he found himself distracted by constant questions from Arnold – like what his major was (theology – Arnold’s was screenwriting, and Connor’s was theatre), what he wanted to do after graduating (Kevin planned to work for the church, Arnold wanted to write science fiction movies and “be the next George Lucas”, whatever that was supposed to mean, while Connor had his sights set on Broadway) and had he gone on a mission yet?
Kevin had, and while the mission wasn’t quite where he had wanted to go – Pittsburgh rather than sunny Florida – it was still an eye-opening experience. Kevin had even baptised some drug addicts, and he mentioned this to the other two.
“Wow,” Arnold said, his mouth slack-jawed, “that is so cool. Con and I didn’t see anything like that on our mission. It was just really hot.”
Kevin’s eyebrows raised. “Wait, Connor is a Mormon too?”
“Gosh, you really haven’t told him anything about me. Arn and I were mission companions in Uganda. That’s how we met,” Connor said.
“Connor was the district leader! We’re best friends,” Arnold added.
“I thought I was your best friend,” Kevin said, a little too incredulously.
“I can have two .”
“Anyway, it was kind of a bust,” Connor said. “Not really what I imagined for my mission. The Africans we spoke to weren’t really interested in the Church. We barely got any baptisms.”
“How many did you get?” Kevin asked.
“Not many,” Arnold said, and the pair didn’t elaborate past that.
Kevin blinked. “Um, okay. Then how’d you guys end up roommates? That’s one heck of a coincidence.”
He hadn’t spoken to his mission companion in a few months – the other boy had stopped replying to Kevin’s texts and emails. He was probably busy, Kevin rationalised.
“Yes,” Connor said, peeking down at Kevin from his bed frame, “I must’ve done something terrible to deserve this punishment from Heavenly Father of all this Cunningham in my life, and I am paying for it now.”
“He’s kidding,” Arnold interrupted, giggling nervously, “I had another roommate before, but he wanted to move out for some reason. I guess he wasn’t a Star Wars fan or something. So, Connor moved in!”
“I always wanted a top bunk.” Connor rolled over and flopped onto his back again.
Kevin had a feeling it might’ve been something slightly more than Star Wars to make this guy leave, judging by chaos of the room, but didn’t push it.
“So, Arnold,” Kevin opened his Book of Mormon and pushed that in the other boy’s face instead, “read this passage to me. Maybe hearing it out loud will help us figure out how to summarise it.”
Arnold began reciting the passage laboriously, stumbling over every second word. Kevin heard Connor stifle a giggle.
“And what do you think that means?” Kevin asked, feeling kind of like an elementary school teacher, pointing at Alma 36:3. Arnold took in a deep breath and began to read it aloud.
“Uh… for I do know, that, um… whoever—”
“— Whosoever— ” Kevin interrupted.
“ Whosoever,” Arnold said, “shall put their trust in God… shall be—s-supported in their trials, and their trials – oh, uh, troubles, I mean – and their afflictions, and shall be lifted up at the last day...” Arnold paused, as if deeply in thought, and chewed the end of his pencil. “Um… I think it means...”
“I think you broke him,” Connor said, laughing openly, now, “I’ve never heard him read aloud uninterrupted for so long.”
Arnold’s brow furrowed in concentration, and just as he opened his mouth to answer Kevin’s question, there was another knock at the door. His eyes lit up.
“Pizza’s here!” Arnold jumped from his seat and sprinted to the door.
Kevin sighed, massaged his forehand with two fingers and shut his book. “I guess we’ll take a break, then.”
***
The trio sat in a circle on the floor; Kevin was against the wall facing the two roommates, who leaned against the bottom bunk of the bed.
The pair were a strange sight, true opposites, with Connor being tall, and well built, his skin a pasty white and his eyes a bright blue, and Arnold small and stocky, with a mess of dark curls and large glasses. Connor was well groomed, his hair neatly parted, while Arnold’s shirt was untucked, and his socks didn’t match. If Kevin didn’t know any better, he wouldn’t have thought the two were from the same planet, let alone from the same mission. And yet, their bond was obvious – they ate their meals with a similar vigour, as if they hadn’t eaten for years. During conversation, they frequently traded knowing glances, sharing inside jokes that Kevin was not clued in on. They made fun of each other’s laughs (Connor’s was a lovely deep chuckle that resonated in his chest, and Arnold’s was a high-pitched cackle that he could comfortably sustain for twenty seconds straight), and as they told Kevin stories, they practically finished each other’s sentences. Connor would even pick certain toppings off his pizza and push it onto Arnold’s paper plate, like some old married couple.
It gave Kevin some weird pang in his gut, an emotion he couldn’t quite place, but he shrugged it off. Maybe it was just homesickness. He was missing dinner with his family that night. Kevin wasn’t the type to hang out with friends after classes finished for the day – he usually went straight home and helped his mother in the kitchen, or his father with yard work, or his little brothers with homework.
“So, Kevin,” Connor said, innocently, “any girls in your life?”
Kevin nearly choked on his pizza crust. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, no reason,” he said, “I guess it’s just on my mind with this one over here,” and he nodded to Arnold, whose cheeks were tinted pink.
“You like someone?” Kevin asked.
“Yeah…” Arnold said, twirling his thumbs, “her name’s Jon Bon Jovi.”
Kevin’s raised an eyebrow.
“Nabulungi,” Connor translated.
“That’s what I said! Nabonjovi,” Arnold said, and he smiled. “She’s real pretty.”
Kevin knew who they meant; he had seen Nabulungi Hatimbi around campus. She was in one of his classes, either anthropology or biology, he couldn’t quite remember, and they were in a group for those silly ice breakers that teachers always did in the first week of class. She was an exchange student from Kitguli, if what she had said during said activities were anything to go by. She was small and pretty, and her voice was high pitched and sweet, like a songbird. Kevin could see why Arnold would like her.
“I think I sat next to her in class a few times,” Kevin said. Arnold’s eyes widened and nearly bulged out of his head.
He grabbed Kevin by the arms and began to shake him. “Oh my gosh, you have to introduce me!”
“Easy pal.” Kevin shrugged him off and rubbed his arm where Arnold had grabbed him. “I don’t really know her that well. We’ve barely exchanged names.”
“That’s still more than me. You gotta help me talk to her.”
“If I promise to help you talk to Nabulungi,” Kevin said impatiently, “do you promise to stop goofing off and work really hard on this project with me?”
Arnold nodded, a cheesy grin practically pushing the glasses off of his face, and he threw his arms around Kevin. “Okay, yes, let’s start brainstorming ideas!”
“For our assignment?”
“No, for talking to Nabasaki!”
Kevin restrained from burying his face in his hands.
***
Kevin was walking down a path along campus towards the bus stop, finally freed from the day’s classes. A few days had passed since his visit to Arnold’s dorm. The pair had decided to meet again soon to discuss their project and Nabulungi.
His pace hastened and his grip around his jacket tightened; it was already getting chilly and he longed to be home already, warming his hands by the fireplace. A dreary thought of how he’d have to rough the cold again to chop wood for said fire crossed his mind, but he pushed it away.
He was nearing his bus when the greeting rang out.
“Kevin!”
He almost cursed internally, almost, but not quite. Kevin’s head whipped around until he spotted the culprit – it was Connor, wearing an overcoat and a big scarf, and he was waving Kevin down, jogging to catch up. Kevin slowed to a stop and dawdled on the path, looking at his shoe so he wouldn’t have to meet eyes with the other boy. He could already feel heat rising to his cheeks.
The crisp October air had made Connor’s cheeks ruddy. Even the tip of his nose and his ears were beginning to flush. It almost matched the dark auburn shade of his hair, which looked obscenely red in the bask of the sunlight. Kevin wondered if he had just been at a dance class. He looked out of energy. Connor huffed out little puffs of condensation into the air as he approached, and his hair was slightly dishevelled, a far cry from his usual neat, combed look.
“How are you, Connor?” Kevin asked, politely.
“I’m good. You’re shivering,” Connor pointed out.
“No, I’m fine,” Kevin said, even though he wasn’t, but Connor had already removed his scarf and began to wrap it around the taller boy.
“You’ll catch a cold,” the redhead said, as he tucked the tails of the scarf into Kevin’s jacket. He grabbed Kevin’s wrist, who stopped breathing momentarily, and pulled it closer to stare at the watch on his arm. “Oh, shoot, is that the time? I gotta go. Duty calls. Just give me back that scarf next time we hang out, okay?” He turned to leave, but hesitated. “Hey, Kev, do you have Facebook? I tried to find you on there, but I couldn’t see you.”
“Yes,” Kevin lied, without a thought, “I’ve, um, got my page on private. I’ll add you.”
Connor nodded, and after flashing a smile, he was gone, trotting in the other direction.
Despite himself, Kevin drew the scarf closer to himself, and nuzzled into it. It was warm. It smelled like him, too; a blend of peppermint and aftershave. He thought about what Connor had said, and his stomach filled with butterflies. He could’ve easily said, give that scarf back when you see Arnold in class , or, just leave it by my dorm, or, I’ll have to burn the scarf now that you’ve worn it , but he didn’t.
The next time we hang out, he had said.
Kevin shivered again, but it wasn’t because of the cold.
***
Seven people – two parents, and five kids; Patricia, Kevin, Jack, Ben and Elijah – were enough to fill up the Price family’s dinner table and then some. Elijah, the youngest Price, had to sit at a corner of the table with an old cane chair pulled up to it.
“When can I sit at the table normally like you guys?” He whined, wriggling his arm in a fruitless attempt to reach the salt.
Their father passed it over. “We’ve been over this, son. When your older sister moves out, you can take her seat.”
Patricia stuck her tongue out playfully at the younger boy. “Not long now, Eli. Once Joe proposes, I’m outta here.”
“When you’re married ,” their mother reminded her, “until then, you’re still our little girl.” She leaned over and pinched Patricia’s cheek.
“Gosh, Mom, I’m not a baby. I’m twenty-two.”
Kevin shovelled the last bite of pasta into his mouth and dropped his fork on his plate. It clattered loudly, which startled Ben. The small boy shot Kevin a dirty look, and he smiled apologetically. He had picked up the plate and was about to take it to the dishwasher when his mother tutted, and he stopped and collected the rest of everyone else’s plates as well. It was the family rule – first to get up to leave had to take all the dirty dishes.
“Why are you in such a rush to get out of here?” His father said, handing Kevin a fork he had dropped.
“I’m going to my friend Arnold’s to work on our assignment, Dad,” Kevin said, shifting his weight to balance the pile of plates and bowls. “Can I borrow the car?”
Guilt filled his stomach. It was true, but a half truth. It was true that he was going to Arnold and Connor’s to work on the presentation, but he had left out the part about how, after an hour of solid work had been done, they were going to go over a game plan to talk to Nabulungi. He wasn’t sure if his father would consider it the most productive use of his time. Kevin was already scared enough that his parents would find his new Facebook page. Sure, it had no profile picture, and he’d named it Kevin Andrew instead of Price, to keep his visibility low, but his parents were crafty. His chest tightened at the thought. Had he remembered to clear his internet history today?
His little brother, Jack, frowned. “You said we could watch a movie tonight, Kev.”
“Oh,” Kevin said. It had slipped his mind with all the excitement. “I’m sorry. Tomorrow?”
Jack turned away with a huff. “Forget it. I have to study scripture tomorrow. You know I’m leaving for my mission soon.”
Their mom gave Kevin a look that said, honey-I-know-you’re-all-grown-up-now-and-you-want-to-hang-out-with-your-friends-but-he’s-your-brother-and-family-is-everything, and he returned it with a look reading I-know-but-what-can-I-do? She said, you-have-to-make-it-up-to-him, blinked, then said, tell-him-about-the-thing , and he said, what-thing, and she said, you-know-the-thing-we-saw-in-the-newspaper and he said, I-still-don’t-know-what-you-mean and she rolled her eyes and used her hands to mimic a big moving wheel, and he nodded in realisation and gave her the wink that said okay-I-get-it-now.
He cleared his throat, grateful that Jack, who was faced away with his arms crossed, had missed the exchange. “Hey, Jack, there’s a fair coming by in a couple of weeks. I was thinking we should go together, just you and me.”
“Really?” Jack had started to sniffle. Kevin gave him a hug, the best he could manage while holding a huge pile of cutlery. Jack always was a cry baby.
“Yeah. I’ll buy you some cotton candy, okay? Don’t cry.”
Jack nodded. “Okay. I’m sorry I had a little meltdown.”
“Don’t worry,” Kevin said, “you’re just stressed because of your mission. I get it.” And with the argument resolved, he headed to the sink. By then, the rest of his siblings had fled back to their bedrooms to escape chores, and Kevin didn’t have the heart to make his mother help after she just cooked that excellent meal for them, so he set to washing the dishes on his own, scrubbing down plates, bowls, knives and forks. But someone came to his side and started drying – it was Jack, whose eyes crinkled fondly at him – and he knew that all was forgiven.
His mother was right. Family really was the most important thing.