Chapter Text
Lucien had really done it this time. He could feel his father's eyes boring into his skin like a white-hot branding iron, occasionally looking up to make sure they wouldn’t crash. Damien was probably glancing back at his son with that pitiful, concerned look he always had when Lucien did wrong. Of course, since the boy in question was too busy ruefully glaring out his window, he couldn't confirm it visually. He didn’t really have to, since he felt his father’s soft gaze cutting right through his rocky exterior. He hated how intuitive his dad was sometimes.
"I'm not going to therapy again." Lucien states, standoffish as ever.
"I didn't plan on sending you, so perish the thought." His father sighs, looking back at the road. The younger Bloodmarch could almost feel his eyes flit away like a small butterfly taking flight; barely there, yet noticeable all the same. "It is your decision whether or not you want to go, and no matter what your choice may be, I will respect it.” Lucien was surprised, but not much. His father didn't often force him into things like other parents probably would. He gives him credit for that, at least. His father was also more supportive than most people were in general. It aaaaalmost makes him feel bad for ever disrespecting him, but he’s gotta remind himself that he wouldn’t be caught dead being a ‘good kid’. If he could help it, anyway. “But if you change your mind, please don’t hesitate to let me know.” He makes sure to let him know he can change his mind every time, more proof of his father’s predictability.
“...Thanks.” Lucien replies after a period of silence, the only sound being the rush of wind and the hiss of tires against rough asphalt as the car flew down the highway. It couldn’t even really be called a ‘car’- it was an old, refurbished hearse that Damien’s owned since Lucien was little. It was closer to being a second son of Damien’s than anything more than ‘just a car’. His hearse was his baby, his heart and soul- also he’d put a lot of money into it and he was gonna get his money’s worth out of it, dammit.
“Of course.” His father replies flatly, sighing once more. He did that a lot on these drives where Damien has to pick his son up early from school due to some sort of stunt that got him suspended or at the very least, early dismissal. Maybe he sighs so much because it’s his method of releasing his frustration out into open air rather than letting it stew around in his mind and making him blow up on Lucien at a later time. He absolutely hated reprimanding him since it always ended with them yelling at one another. There was enough strain on their relationship as it was and Mr. Bloodmarch was doing his absolute best to keep the very fragile peace they had intact. Even if it meant not being able to effectively discipline his son. With another deep heave of breath, he spoke. “I love you, Lucien.”
Ah, the signal his father always gave that they were to continue this conversation once they got home. He said it every single time they had this talk, without fail. Lucien doesn’t like talking to his dad after he gets in trouble. He was just so... unwaveringly calm and gentle, no matter how terrible Lucien acts. Never mind that. Right now, he just wants to go to his room and never come out. Maybe he’d blast some music for no reason other to piss his dad off. That is, if he doesn’t get his phone taken away. Despite that.. he couldn’t just not respond to what his father said. He knew it really tore Damien up when he just brushes him off. He flared his nostrils and quietly rasped “...I love you too.” Because no matter what, he’s always gonna love his dad.
Heh, maybe he’ll try to get ahold of Ernest later and see if Hugo ‘Stick-Up-The-Ass’ Vega grounded him for what they did. It was one of his safest but most legendary endeavors yet. Tricking the kid with the promise of wine and building a brick wall around him in the school’s basement *and* livestreaming the whole thing!? It couldn’t get any more iconic if he tried. Well, maybe if it had actually worked and Ernest hadn’t socked him in the nose for lying about the wine after 20 minutes of bricklaying. Hey, it was that dumbass’s fault for being stupid enough to believe that there’d be alcohol in the school’s basement anyway! Let alone be gullible enough to sit there long enough for Lucien to pull the ol’ Cask of Amontillado on him. At least he had been paying attention in Mr. Vega’s class, right?
But at the same time, knowing Hugo, Ernest is probably gonna be grounded for the whole week they’re suspended. Maybe he could trick Ernest into going to the park later so he could make him pay for what he did; one good punch, that’s all he wanted. Or he could climb through Ernest’s window while Mr. Vega and Damien are at work instead. He knows the dumbass leaves it unlocked since he’s probably invited himself in more times than he’s used the Vega’s front door. Mostly because Lucien Bloodmarch is technically banned from the Vega residence, but Ernest will let him in anyway out of spite for his father. It’s not like they do anything bad; they just drink Monster and play video games and occasionally they’ll cheat on homework together. Besides, they’d rather spend time out doing dumb shit in Maple Bay than stay at home. It’s usually a last resort when one of them’s grounded for something and can’t go anywhere.
For the rest of the drive, Damien keeps looking at his son in the rearview mirror. Lucien would’ve liked to snap at his dad for staring but he didn’t have the energy to do anything other than glower out the window and mentally curse Ernest for drawing attention to them in the basement. Also his nose hurt now and his right nostril was caked in dried blood which he’d have to wipe off before hiding in his bedroom.
Damien hasn’t even removed the keys from the ignition by the time Lucien’s already unbuckled and getting out of the vehicle, the hood of his jacket up to conceal his face as he walks past his father’s door. He hops up the steps and pulls the house key out from under the mat, unlocking the door and heading inside without even looking back. His father filed in just behind him, removing his cloak and He can tell there’s a blood clot forming in his nose from stagnant blood; that’s gonna be fun to pull out later. He starts stomping up the steps to go to the bathroom, but Damien clears his throat at the bottom of the stairs to get his son’s attention.
“Would you like an ice pack for your nose once you’ve wiped it off?” He asks, idly tapping the heel of his boot against the mahogany floor. Lucien’s nose had begun to bruise and it worried Damien quite a bit (as everything does), but it didn’t look crooked and Lucien didnt seem to be in too much pain so he wasn’t going to drag him to the ER and get it checked out.
“..Sure.” The teen replied, waiting for his father to nod and make his way to the kitchen before quickly running up the rest of the staircase. He hung a sharp left into the bathroom, dropping his backpack with a *thunk* on the floor before digging in the sink cabinet for a washcloth. He wets it and wipes his nose really well, making sure there’s no blood left. Save for the bruise and the swelling, it looked like nothing had happened. Turning around, he sees his father standing there with the ice pack wrapped in a damp dish towel.
“Here you are. Um..” Damien hands him the ice pack and glances down at his nails, freshly painted in glossy black polish. He must have done them this morning after Lucien left for school. Lucien grimaces, knowing Damien’s intent was to use the ice pack as a ploy to keep him from holing himself up in his room before they could talk, as evidenced by him inspecting his hands to find the right words. “Why did you try to build a brick wall around Hugo’s son?” He pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, a deep crease forming between his brows.
“Daaaad,” Lucien groans, wrenching his heavy backpack up from the floor. Its many pins and gothic charms jingled as he slipped it on over his shoulders. “Do we have to do this now?” He doesn’t want to argue just as much as Damien; it’s tiring and gets them both nowhere and just makes them both feel bad.
“I would prefer it didn’t wait, but if you are not ready to talk to me, I cannot force you to.” He huffs, stepping out of the way for Lucien to leave the bathroom. “Why don’t we discuss this matter after dinner, once we both have had time to process today’s events?” He says quickly before Lucien has the chance to disappear into his bedroom. He framed it as a question but Lucien knew his dad was going to pester him after they ate no matter what he said. Why was Damien so adamant about talking to him today? Normally they avoid one another for an hour or two before Damien even thinks about knocking on his door and asking to talk to him. What he did today wasn’t even the worst thing he’s ever done. Aside from getting punched by Ernest nobody got hurt and no school property was damaged. Technically one could make the argument that Lucien had done the opposite of damaging school property- he added to it! And Mr. Vega had even said that his masonry work was pretty good, so take that, Mrs. Wexler!
“Hmph.” Lucien glares at him as he delves into his room, shutting the door lightly. He’s sure his dad knows that he had (reluctantly) agreed to talk later by not slamming the door as hard as he possibly could. He can faintly hear his father in the hallway entering the library. He’d caught some Luna moths last night and had yet to pin them up so that’s probably what he was doing before he had to pick Lucien up at the school. In terms of what Lucien was going to do until later, he decided there’s no better time than now to see if Ernest’s MIA or not.
Lucien snickers to himself at Ernest’s expense as he hooks his phone up to his speakers. Well, at least they’ll be able to text this week. As easy as it is to use the tree between their houses as a bridge to Ernest’s window, he’d rather not do that every single time they wanted to talk. Also because he’s kinda scared of falling and breaking his neck but he’d never admit that, not even to his dad. (Mostly because Damien isn’t aware of his son’s window hopping escapades but that’s not important.
For once, Lucien doesn’t blast his music as to not disturb his father too much. They’re on alright terms for the moment, considering the events of earlier. That may not last too long, though; after dinner is a wild card that still has Lucien’s stomach twisted into a pretzel. But he has more respect for his father than to be a coward so he’ll talk to him and get it over with. He doesn’t want to fight with his dad because above all else, Damien’s the only person who’s always in Lucien’s corner, no matter what. He.. doesn’t give him enough credit for that. Maybe talking to him wouldn’t be so bad.
~~~~~~~
“How do you not realize that you’re getting a brick wall built around you, Ernest?!” Hugo huffs in exasperation, in disbelief at how stupid today’s little stunt was. “What did you think was gonna happen? You’re lucky we didn’t have to call the fire department to get you out of there!”
“I’d rather be stuck in a brick wall in the school’s basement than be here!” Ernest retorts, his lip curling up in a snarl. “Besides, that jerk tricked me! I’m innocent, compared to him.” He crossed his arms over his chest, pulling the drawstrings on his hoodie to shut his hood around his face. Only his chocolate brown hair and the lower half of his chin stuck out. Ernest didn’t even want to *look* at Hugo right now.
“Ernest Hemingway Vega, you will make eye contact with me when I speak to you!” Hugo growls back, practically bristling. Ernest smirks, knowing how easily he’s getting under his father’s skin.
“Eh, I think I’ll pass.” The delinquent shrugs, flopping backward onto his bed like Hugo wasn’t standing in his doorway with his glasses crooked and looking haggard as all hell. Of course, this only makes Hugo angrier.
“I didn’t raise you to be so disrespectful.” Mr. Vega turns around, sighing harshly to collect his thoughts.
“You didn’t raise me at all! *Dad* did!” Ernest sprung back up as he shouts, unable to see how Hugo winced at what he said. Maybe it’s for the best since knowing how much that hurt him would make him feel the worst of all emotions; guilt. Ernest can pretend to be a hardass who hates his dad more than anyone else, but underneath his facade, Ernest is just a kid who’s still coping with what he can’t change. And that would be his parents’ marital status.
“That’s enough!” Ernest’s father declares, clenching his fists and grinding his teeth. “We will.. talk about this later.” Hugo’s anger had fizzled out into exasperation, a plea of desperation as the rift between him and his child grows. He loves Ernest, but he’s afraid that feeling isn’t mutual. It tears him apart every time he’s reminded. And his son will never let him forget it. Ernest peeks out from his hoodie as Hugo leaves, shutting his son’s bedroom door and walking away quietly. That suits Ernest just fine since now he could just stay in bed and relax without Hugo screaming at him about how disrespectful and irresponsible he was. *Wow, thanks dad, love you too,* he thinks while laying back down, staring bitterly at the ceiling. Why did Hugo have to blame him for everything that goes wrong when it’s his fault for making Ernest’s other father leave in the first place? He had to have done something to make him skip town, right? He’s sure he didn’t just abandon them for his new husband... except deep down, he knows the answer. Ernest is the furthest thing from stupid. But sometimes it’s easier to pretend than to face the truth.
He ran a hand through his hair to ground himself, rolling over onto his side to grab his phone. Talking to Lucien was probably going to be the only positive interaction he had that day, barring what happened earlier. He’d apologize for punching him later once Lucien apologizes for making him look like a goddamn moron in front of the entire school. Sure, the brick thing was funny, but he’s never gonna live down the Cask of Amontillado incident for as long as he lives. If nothing else, he’ll have a fun story to tell someday once the embarrassment’s faded away.
Ah, Lucien Bloodmarch. Anyone could tell you how unlikely of friends they were, once spending every single day at one another’s throats until they got to know each other better. They fight and bicker like siblings do, and since they’re both the only children of their parents, their friendship combated the loneliness of having nobody else. They both still had other friends of their own, but the bond that they had was special. They were partners in crime, bastards in arms! And nothing less.
But Ernest would be lying if he said he didn’t want more. He’s got a teeny (big), tiny (large), eensy-weensy (huge) crush on his best friend. He didn’t think he liked boys at all, not that there’s a problem with doing so (his parents are gay, for Christ’s sake) but Lucien had kinda made him realize that damn, maybe he did. He’s brushed it off for the sake of not making things weird between them but things only got worse when Lucien came out as bi last year. And that’s when it was officially too late to go back, but Ernest’s apprehension had kept him from moving forward too. So he’s been stagnating in the pool of toxic waste that was Teen Romance™ for over an entire year out of fear of losing his best friend. Wow, that would make a really good movie plot, wouldn’t it? Two bad boys falling in love.. god, Ernest, get your damn head out of the clouds.
He grimaces at his sappy thoughts. God, if Lucien could read his mind right now, he’d probably laugh and then never speak to him again. It was unbecoming of Ernest Vega to be emotionally vulnerable, like, ever. Not even in front of Lucien. He has a persona to portray! If people found out that he’s just a sheep in wolf’s clothing... he doesn’t even wanna think about what they’d say. He jumps when his phone dings again, picking it up to read Lucien’s message.
Ernest grins widely, sliding his phone into his pocket and hopping up out of bed to catch up with Lucien outside. He tucks his lighter in as well since Lucien has a bad habit of forgetting his when they go to the park to smoke. Even though he’s still kinda mad at him for the brick thing, he can’t say no to hanging out with someone who makes his heart race like Lucien does. As Ernest goes to leave his room, he resolves to leave the house as quickly as possible to avoid any confrontation with Hugo. He checks around every corner for him but it sounds like he’s in his wrestling room typing on the computer so Ernest’s escape was much easier than he’d initially thought it’d be. Right outside, Lucien waits with his bicycle on the sidewalk at the edge of Ernest’s yard. The smaller boy opens the garage, leading his own bike out down the driveway before running back to shut it. Hugo would be pissed if he left it open unattended.
“Took you long enough,” Lucien teases, even though his friend was pretty much right on time. “Got a light? Dad took mine.” Lucien huffs, eyeing his and his father’s house scornfully. He even bought that lighter with his own money!
“You know it,” Ernest reaches in and pulls the orange lighter out as proof. “We going or what?” He threw a leg over the seat and stared back at Lucien with his eyes narrowed.
“Tut tut, you’re so impatient,” Lucien imitates Hugo’s voice as he starts pedaling down the sidewalk. Ernest rolls his eyes and pedals after him, having difficulty keeping up because his legs are so much shorter. But that’s not entirely a bad thing because he can see how Lucien’s silver hair glimmers in the sunlight like the sun on the water in the bay without the other boy thinking he’s weird for staring. While biking down the street, they pass Brian who’s planting some flowers in his front flowerbed. He waves, friendly as ever, even to the two delinquents of the neighborhood.
Ernest thinks it’s a nice day; even nicer with Lucien around. If he weren’t so focused on not crashing his bike he’d smack himself as hard as he could. Of course, he’d rather not have road rash from hitting the pavement. How embarrassing would it be to get hurt in front of his crush? And then Hugo would fret over him and in nag him about keeping it clean and stuff. Ugh, that just SOUNDS annoying. He pedals faster to catch up with Lucien as they officially leave the cul-de-sac, focusing on keeping up with him instead of on anything else.