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Love is a sickness, and Ron despises all the poets and actors who have ever made him think otherwise. It's crippling, and nothing proves that better than his current state of mind.
He just can't get over the imperfection of this glass ball he found in his drawer. With the tip of his finger, he rolls it around on the table in the light that streams in through the open window. The morning sunshine makes it glitter like gold. When it reaches the milk carton, he pushes it back towards his plate and follows the brilliant, swirling colours with his gaze. He wonders what bothers him about it. Is it too bright or too yellow or too smooth? Nothing like Carwood's dark honey hair, not warm enough, not real enough, not -
"Would you stop staring at that stupid thing?" Mary hisses at him from the opposite side of the dining table. "It's creepy."
Ron gives her a dark look and pockets his toy. Their parents are immersed in a discussion about gardening tools or whatever, so they don't notice.
His sister isn't finished though. "There's a hole in your shirt."
"So?" Ron snaps. "Who cares?"
"Ronnie, be nice." His mom chastises him distractedly. Damn it. He always gets caught, but not Mary, never, she can be an ass 24/7 and no one minds.
Ron sighs and turns back to his food, pushing it around. He's been so moody recently. Never has he slammed more doors than in the past six months. Which is stupid, because nothing changed. He's still fifteen and lonely. Well, okay, that's not quite true. He'll be a year older in a month and he isn't as lonely as before, because he and Carwood go to the same school again after four years apart. He should be happy that his family moved back here six months ago. So why is it that his chest aches all the time? There's only one possible explanation, and he doesn't like it. Not one bit.
Lost in thought, he munches on a tomato wedge, then pulls the stem scar out of his mouth. He leaves the half-chewed piece on his plate and reaches for another just as the doorbell rings. His mom goes to get it.
"You're disgusting." Mary informs him when Ron puts the second stem scar beside the first.
Ron smiles and takes a sip of his orange juice. Sweet, sweet revenge. He's gulping down the rest of his drink when his mom exclaims in joy. "Carwood!"
Ron chokes. The juice dribbles down his chin to pool around the leftover tomato pieces.
"So good to see you, sweetie, do you want to come in?"
Even while he's coughing his lungs out, Ron's ears pick up on Carwood's gentle voice. "Oh, I don't want to be a bother."
"Nonsense." Ron's mom tuts, and that's about all the warning Ron gets before his best friend enters the room.
That ratty old t-shirt seems like one of the worst decisions of Ron's life right now.
"Good morning." Carwood smiles at Ron's dad and sister, then turns to Ron. "Hi, Ron."
"Hi." Ron croaks, then tries to clear his throat because his voice sounds like he has just spent a night in the Ardennes without winter clothing. He wipes his damp chin. "Let's go up to my room."
"I can wait."
"No, I'm done." Ron gestures at the mess he made of his breakfast, then kind of wants to die when Carwood actually looks at it. Across from him, Mary rolls her eyes. Ron hates her.
"Come on, let's go." He gets up from the table and pushes at the center of Carwood's back to usher him out of the room and up the stairs. Better not let his family in on the fact that a single look from Carwood can turn his blood into coke.
"What are you doing here?" He asks when they reach his room, then forces his hand to drop away from Carwood's warm body. No one has ever told him how difficult it can be to walk the line between what's appropriate and what he craves.
Carwood plops down on Ron's bed with a heavy sigh. "God, you won't believe what happened yesterday."
Ron's thoughts jump straight to the swim meet the school's team competed in yesterday. "You didn't false start, did you?"
"No, the swim went fine, but - after, when we were on the team bus on the way home, you know, and it was dark and most of the guys were sleeping…" Carwood gives Ron a helpless look. "Suzie Baker kissed me."
The room shrinks to half of its size. "What?"
"We sat next to each other and I was talking about something, I don't even remember what, when she kind of just - leaned in and did it."
The painful side effects of Ron's disease spread to every cranny of his body. He sits beside Carwood, looking at the trinkets on his desk blankly. "Did you like it?"
"Of course I did." Carwood chuckles, then rubs his left arm with his opposite hand, raising his shoulders. "It was my first kiss."
Ron's heart shatters and sinks to the bottom of the ocean like a troopship torpedoed by a U-boat. He lost the war before he could even make it to the front. "What did it feel like?"
Why? Why is he torturing himself? He wants to rewind the last few minutes and start over. It doesn't help if he knows how Carwood experiences a kiss. Why did he think that was a good question? Fuck.
Carwood flops on his back and closes his eyes. It gives Ron a chance to stare at him openly, at his pale skin, at the faint smile on his lips, at his eyelashes, his hair. "It was very soft. And sticky, I guess, from her lip gloss. I didn't expect it to be like that."
Ron digs his nails into his own palm. "So are you guys together now or what?"
"I don't know." Carwood sighs and sits up again. "We didn't talk about it." He covers his face with his palms. "It was so awkward. I pretended I fell asleep."
"Why?"
"I don't know. I don't know anything." Carwood groans, then drops his forehead to Ron's shoulder. The warmth of his skin burns. "What happens next?"
Ron is careful not to move a single inch to prolong their contact as much as he can. "Well, if you really liked it, then take her on a date."
Carwood straightens up and nods attentively. "Where?"
"I don't know."
They both spend a minute trying to come up with good options for a first date. Ice cream sounds boring to Ron and movies are only good for making out in the dark. But it's hard to give any advice whatsoever when his stomach turns at the mere thought of Carwood and Suzie in any kind of romantic setting.
Carwood elbows him. "Where would you want to go?"
Ron panics. He's been daydreaming of taking Carwood to specific places, but nothing general comes to his mind, so he blurts out the first thing he can think of. "To a climbing gym."
Carwood pauses for a beat, then breaks into a smile, and it spreads across his face like the first rays of sunshine spilling over a garden. Pure light. Ron wishes he could feel its warmth on his own lips.
If Ron's crush was bad before, it is unbearable now. He can't fall asleep from the constant pain. It's an annoying one, a throb in his chest that he can't shake off or rub away. He resorts to taking an air sickness pill because he knows that makes him drowsy, and he sleeps for a blessed ten hours until his mom wakes him up with a worried knock on the door.
Monday starts out like any other normal school day and, foolishly, Ron lets it rock him into a false sense of security. Nothing seems to have changed. He and Carwood hang out as usual. During their lunch break, Ron breaks into a rant about the sheer tactical stupidity in the last novel he read and Carwood nods along, rearranging his stuff in his locker. His bag is on Ron's shoulder.
"Seriously, sending the heavy cavalry into a swamp?" Ron shakes his head and crosses his arms. He's in a good mood because he likes holding Carwood's things. It gives him the illusion that they don't have boundaries between each other.
"Maybe they discarded their armor and started a guerrilla fight." Carwood smiles at him and closes his locker. When he takes his bag back, his hand brushes Ron's shoulder and sends a jolt of electricity through his arm.
"You would have written a much better book." Ron returns the smile, but it fades away from his face when George Luz bounces over to them and throws a casual arm around Carwood's shoulders.
Why is he allowed to do that so easily? It would be weird if Ron did the same, he knows. Life is so unfair. If Ron was tactile with everyone, he could get more than a stolen brush of skin here and there. He might not suffer from this bone-deep longing to touch Carwood. He might not be dying a little every day.
"Hello, boys, sorry to break up the party but I've got news." Luz rambles cheerfully, dragging Carwood down the hall towards their classroom.
"We don't mind." Carwood assures him, and for a confusing second, Ron can't even decide whether he's disappointed that Carwood doesn't mind or pleased because Carwood said 'we'.
"What news?" He asks, wanting Luz to get to the point and leave them alone.
"Well, a little bird told me that our most eligible bachelor is officially off the market." Luz whispers in a conspiratorial tone.
Ron clenches his right hand into a fist. The last thing he needed was a reminder that Carwood has a girlfriend now. Way to ruin his day.
"Who are you talking about?" Carwood frowns.
"Don't tell me you don't know!" Luz scoffs and points at someone none too subtly. It's Dick Winters, leaning against a window, immersed in a book. His expression is serene and blank as if the noisy hallway around him didn't even exist. Alone, as usual. There's no infatuated girl clinging to his arm.
"Stop bullshitting us, Luz." Ron mutters, but Luz has already moved on to what sounds like the real purpose of this conversation.
"As your best friend, it's my duty to help you two out. Here." He presses a cinema gift card into Carwood's palm. "My aunt got me this thing last year and I forgot to use it."
"You just want to get rid of your junk." Ron grumbles. That thing has probably expired ages ago.
Before Luz could answer, the door of the classroom they're waiting for opens, and a group of girls exit. To Ron's utter dismay, one of them is Suzie Baker with her curly locks and heady cotton candy smell. She grins shyly when she notices Carwood and waves as she and her friends walk past. Carwood gives her a dorky wave back. He has such big hands…
"I already know who you want to take, Lip." Luz teases with a smirk, oblivious to the fact that he's twisting the knife in Ron's chest with every word.
"George." Carwood warns him quietly, his eyes darting to Ron and then away. A deep pink flush paints his cheeks.
It's enough to make Ron's heart perform some arrhythmic, fluttery beat before he gets his thoughts back under control. He'd be an idiot if he still held on to a kernel of hope. He'd be better off if he shut all his emotions out and got through the next few years as if he was already dead. That would save him from a lot of pain.
Waiting on the bleachers until Carwood finishes his swim workout should be the most boring thing ever, but Ron finds it relaxing. He listens to the splashing water and the low hum of the machinery that keeps the outdoor pool running, to the faint birdsong coming from the park and to his own breathing. It's a mild day, and he enjoys the afternoon sunshine and the breeze when it combs into his hair. He should get a haircut, but Carwood said his fringe looked good this way so he's reluctant to get rid of it. He sits back against the bench behind him and pulls his knees up, resting his elbows on them. The scent of chlorine wafts into his nose. He wonders if Carwood's skin smells similar when he gets out of the pool.
"Speirs! To what do we owe the pleasure?" A familiar voice exclaims, and a half-naked Buck climbs up to Ron's vantage point. He's in a dark blue robe and little else, and his wet hair glistens in the light. He plays damn near every team sport available at their school, including water polo, and it shows. He's bulky enough to pass for a grown man.
"I'm waiting for Carwood." Ron mumbles, gesturing at the swimmers in the water. "He's my ride."
"Your ride?" Buck repeats, laden with innuendo.
"Fuck off."
Buck laughs, handsome and annoying as hell. He's too observant for his own good, and Ron wants to hit him for it sometimes. "You give yourself away, man."
Ron closes his eyes for a long second, then reaches out and presses the pad of his thumb to the angry red scratch on Buck's chest. "You've got something here."
Hissing, Buck slaps his hand away, but the amusement returns to his gaze immediately. "Ass."
Ron smiles, and they spend a few moments in companionable silence. As they sit there watching, Carwood's laps turn slower and he starts stretching his arms while gliding forward in freestyle. He's doing his cooldown exercises now. Ron's eyes follow his smooth path from one end of the pool to the next until he stops and takes his goggles off. He looks up and smiles when he spots Ron and Buck.
"I think he's been mooning over someone recently." Buck bumps his knee into Ron's, perhaps thinking that this information will cheer Ron up.
"Yeah, Suzie Baker." Ron sighs dejectedly. He watches as Carwood climbs out of the water. "Hey, do you have any intel about Winters?"
"Dick?" Buck shrugs. "Just the same old stuff about his feud with Mr Sobel."
Ron nods. He knew it, Luz was messing with them. There's no way that Dick has a girlfriend.
"Hi, Buck." Carwood calls out when he reaches the bleachers.
He's shivering and covered in goosebumps as the wind catches the droplets rolling down his torso. The scar on his right thigh peaks out from under his speedos, but it's quickly covered up by the towel wrapped around his hips. He's a little thin now because he had a growth spurt this winter, but Ron finds him so lovely and perfect anyway that he cannot divert his eyes.
"Oh, that scratch looks bad." Carwood's eyes zero in on Buck's chest. "Do you need some neosporin?"
"Nah, it's nothing." Buck waves him off. "Dike, that moron, forgot to cut his nails before practice."
Carwood purses his lips, his dismay evident, but he doesn't comment. He turns to Ron instead. "Do you think we can stop by the burger place down Maple Street?"
Ron nods. "Are you hungry?"
"Yeah. And George told me they were going to head there with Guarnere and Toye. We might bump into them."
Ron has sincerely hoped not, but he's not that lucky. The first thing he hears upon entering the place is Guarnere's raucous laughter. A girl's giggle joins in, and he's suddenly filled with dread. If it's Suzie, he can't stay here, he can't watch her being all lovey-dovey with Carwood, eating from each other's plates and drinking with the same straw and shit, no, no. He'd rather walk home alone.
"You know what, I'll just wait in the car." He tells Carwood and turns to head right back out, but Carwood grabs his forearm and pulls him back.
"Ron, come on, don't be like that. It will be fun, I promise."
"I don't know…"
"Just give them a chance to get to know you better."
Ron is weak, so goddamn weak. He can't say no to Carwood's pleading eyes. He lets Carwood drag him over to their friends and soon enough he's crammed into a booth with Carwood on one side and Toye on the other. Suzie, Luz, Guarnere and another girl he doesn't know sit opposite him. Still, he's thankful for the arrangement, because if Luz wasn't such a flirt and if Toye didn't need more space for his leg brace, he's sure that Suzie would have secured the seat beside Carwood somehow. But this way, Carwood has to sit by the window, bracketed in, which means that she would have to get past Ron to sit with him. Over his dead body.
Hanging out with the guys isn't as bad as Ron feared, and he finds himself relaxing by a fraction. Guarnere and George carry the bulk of the conversation, competing to catch the girls' attention, so he can eat in moderate peace. He turns to see what Carwood ordered and notices that Carwood takes the top bun off his burger.
"You still don't eat the pickles?" He asks, amused.
Carwood wrinkles his nose. "No. You want them?"
Ron does. He picks them off Carwood's food and puts them in his own burgers, then offers a sip of his iced tea in return because he can see that one drink wasn't enough to quench Carwood's thirst. When he stretches his legs, his thigh presses against Carwood's and the warmth seeps through his trousers. He's starting to feel comfortable.
"Last night, I dreamt that I was emperor of the universe and you guys were my minions." Luz announces, the grin already creeping into his smile as though he knows all too well what to expect after that.
"So modest, Luz." Toye's raspy voice comments.
"That's what too much Star Trek does to your brain." Guarnere adds, and the girls snicker.
George plays along, faking a regal tone. "You're just jealous of my imagination."
Toye snorts, and before they know it, there's a contest going on to decide who has the most ridiculous dreams. It's mostly a debate between Toye, Luz and Guarnere, but it's great entertainment. To Ron's surprise, he's enjoying himself, especially the amused glances he shares with Carwood and the way their legs stay glued together.
"What about you, Ron?" Suzie's friend turns to him all of a sudden, and he freezes. "I bet you have some wild dreams too."
All eyes turn to Ron expectantly, and the sudden quiet after the non-stop banter feels jarring. Ron has a feeling that he's wearing the expression Luz called "empty and terrifying", but he's too self-conscious to do anything about it. Suzie's friend seems to regret ever opening her mouth now.
"Sometimes -" He starts hesitantly. "- I dream that I'm a parachuter on D-day and when I jump out of my plane, the ground is an infinite distance away. It keeps coming closer but I never reach it. I keep drifting. And there are fireworks going off all around me."
What follows is a beat of silence, then Luz's sarcasm. "I'm pretty sure that's called a nightmare, Speirs."
"I'm sorry that you had such a bad dream." Suzie adds with a kind smile, then moves on before Ron could explain that it's a good dream, that it makes him feel light. She glances at Carwood from under her lashes. "I have a recurring dream where I'm Belle and I fall in love with the Beast."
Ron has a feeling that it's meant to be some kind of message for Carwood, but if it truly is, it's a terrible one because Carwood hates being judged by his looks, being compared to Frankenstein or the Phantom of the Opera or cursed fairy tale characters. It pisses Ron off when someone doesn't realise this. Being "the Beast" is not flattering or romantic. Well, maybe it is for girls, he doesn't know. He doesn't get this stuff sometimes.
Suddenly, a warm puff of breath brushes Ron's ear.
"You liked that dream, didn't you?" Carwood whispers.
Ron turns his head to look at him, and they're so very close, he can't help but glance at Carwood's lips before forcing his eyes back up. The rest of the world fades out of his perception. He can feel the warmth of Carwood's body seeping into his. If only he could steal a kiss… "How did you know?"
Carwood laughs softly, holding Ron's gaze. He leans his head against the backrest of the booth and Ron follows suit. "I know you, Ron."
"I know you too."
"I know." They both giggle at that, still looking at each other. Carwood's arm slips off the table and presses to Ron's from elbow to wrist, only a breath away from his hand. It feels like Ron's face is on fire.
"Hey, what's so funny over there?" Guarnere breaks the moment, perhaps sour over the fact that Suzie doesn't pay attention to him, and Carwood pulls back. His arm moves back to the table. George jumps in with some lame joke, and then it's all forgotten, the banter resumes, and they finish their dinner. Only Ron's mind can't let it go. He spends all his free time that week trying to make sense of it, going over the memory again and again until he thinks he must have imagined the whole thing.
Ron's moodiness at home reaches new heights. He fights with his sister, fights with his mom, talks back with an insolence that makes his dad turn an ugly shade of puce in anger. His control is impeccable at school and no one seems to notice anything, but his tumultuous emotions explode once he lets his guard down. He should be kept away from other people.
That's why he holes up in the library one afternoon two weeks before his birthday. It's deserted, save for a few haggard-looking seniors and the chain-smoker English teacher. Come to think of it, it's strange not to see Dick anywhere. Is he sick or something? He seemed a bit frazzled in Chemistry yesterday, with his usually neat hair mussed up on one side. He looked flushed too. He probably had a fever.
Ron wonders if he could fake a cold to get an excuse letter. He wants to convince his mom to write him one because he needs some time away from Carwood. He's been avoiding him as much as possible, but they're best friends. He can't just sever their relationship because he can't handle his unrequited crush. Maybe he should find someone willing who can help him forget this disastrous attraction. Someone who doesn't mind that he loves another.
He's contemplating the list of potential candidates when he hears a familiar high-pitched voice. His head snaps up. Shit, it's Suzie and her friends!
Thinking on the spot, Ron hides behind a packed shelf, clutching his new history book in a white-knuckled grip. He doesn't want to talk to her. Or anyone else for that matter. For Christ's sake, he came here to hide!
"Oh my God." One of the girls squeals in that annoying whisper-shout girls do sometimes. "Is he a good kisser?"
Ron's foreboding is quickly confirmed when Suzie answers, her voice dreamy. "He's amazing. He's a little shy, but he's so sweet and kind. I think it's only a matter of time and we'll make it official."
Ron drops his forehead to the smooth wood of the bookcase. Shy? Carwood? Is he really that different when he's with his girlfriend? It's painful to know that Ron will never be privy to that part of his personality. He'll never know what he's like with a person he's in love with. Ron wants to cry. If that part of Carwood was his, he'd never share it with anyone. He'd keep it for himself like a dragon guards its treasure.
"You're so lucky." Suzie's other friend sighs. "Not like me."
"Oh no, don't say that." Suzie tries to console her. "Did something happen?"
The other girl sniffs. Their voices begin moving away down the aisle, to Ron's immense relief. "Dick turned me down because he…"
Ron doesn't hear the end of the sentence, but he doesn't give much thought to it anyway. He sits down on the carpet tiles and pinches the bridge of his nose. Only a matter of time, huh? Was Carwood going to tell him? He probably doesn't consider it Ron's business.
"And isn't he right?" Ron whispers to the dusty books in front of him. He stares at them for a long time. The smells of paper envelopes him like a blanket, but he finds no solace in it. Something's crumbling.
He doesn't talk to his mom in the car on the way home. She tries, but he doesn't trust himself not to spill everything and that's the last thing he wants, because he feels ashamed. For wanting someone who's too good for him.
His mom hasn't even stopped the car yet when he jumps out of it and runs straight up to his room, past his dad and his sister's closed door. He draws the blinds and curls up in his bed, listening to Guns N' Roses and just letting the darkness spread all over him like thick molasses. His limbs are weighed down by bricks of pain. What makes her better? Why is she so perfect and what's wrong with him? Why was he cursed with this feeling?
He feels the draft when the door opens, but he doesn't open his eyes. He knows it's his mom. No one else cares about his agony like she does. The mattress dips and a gentle hand pulls the earbuds out of Ron's ears.
"Honey." His mom starts, combing her fingers through Ron's wavy hair. "You know that you can tell me anything. Anything that hurts or makes you mad… Anything that worries you."
Ron digs his fingers into his blanket to keep from crying. He's not a little boy anymore, he shouldn't break down over such a small thing as love. He'll get over it. "I'm okay, Mom."
His mom's caressing hand moves down to his shoulder. "Did you and Carwood have a fight?"
"No." Ron's voice falters a little, but he carries on as if nothing happened. "There's a girl and…" He shrugs, lips turning downward for a moment. "Can't compete with that."
It's the closest he has ever got to admitting his feelings out loud, but his mom doesn't seem surprised. She must have known from the very beginning, Ron muses, and somehow that's the thing that breaks his dam.
She hugs him and presses a kiss into his hair. "I'm sorry, darling."
Ron's first tear rolls down to his pillow like a hot river. "It's fine."
The next day, he manages to scrape enough of his composure together that his parents let him bike to school, but he turns back after a circle around the block and goes back home. He skips all his classes and spends most of the morning in his room instead, reading, letting his mind roam in another world so that he could forget this one for a short while. He wants to grab his phone and text Carwood, but something always holds him back in the end. They will talk on Monday, when he’s ready, he figures.
It almost scares him to death when the doorbell rings around noon.
Cautiously, he glances out the window to see who it is and to see if they will go away. When he spots the familiar battered car in the driveway, he hangs his head in defeat. He should have known that he wouldn’t be able to get away with it. Resigned, he makes his way down the stairs to open the front door.
“Did you sneak out of school?” He throws at Carwood incredulously in lieu of a greeting.
“I had to check on you!” Carwood replies, looking Ron up and down. “You don’t look sick.”
Ron leans against the doorjamb and crosses his arms. He’s not going to explain that he has invisible shrapnel wounds in his chest that could kill him any minute now. “I’m not.”
Carwood nods, and they watch each other for a lingering moment, at an impasse, before Ron can’t take it anymore and breaks into a smile. “I can’t believe you’re skipping school for me.”
Carwood returns the smile, running a hand through his hair in embarrassment. He takes out his phone to check the time. “I can still make it back for my next class.”
“Or we could go check out that abandoned military base I told you about.” Ron drawls. He recognises the gleam in Carwood’s eyes. It’s there whenever he’s about to do something wild and reckless, and Ron loves that side of him. It makes his own pulse ratchet up. “We have time.”
Carwood bites his lip, but he’s already grinning. To hell with those afternoon classes.
The base is a couple miles out of town in the middle of nowhere. It looks inconspicuous from a distance. A hill, some old houses and a whole lot of empty grassland. The closer they get though, the more evident it becomes that it’s not some rundown farm, but a place they definitely should not enter. It makes it even more exciting. Pieces of cut barbed wire lie abandoned by the side of the road and they spot an old warning sign rotting under a bush. The thrill pushes Ron’s heartache out of his thoughts.
Carwood parks the car on the dirt road leading to one of the barracks and they walk the rest of the way side by side, looking around. Is there anything dangerous here? Are they going to get caught? Ron feels high on adrenaline. They go through the barracks in silence, sometimes brushing each other’s side when they find something interesting. Ron collects some empty cartridge from the floor and Carwood discovers the entrance to some kind of basement, but neither of them has the balls to go down there. Besides the eeriness of the place, there’s not much to explore. There’s rust on the windows, and the paint is peeling off the walls like some grotesque snakeskin, covered in graffiti and mildew, littering the uneven floor. The smell of decay permeates everything.
It’s fun to explore it together nevertheless. Once they’re done with the barracks, he and Carwood climb the hill and sit in the grass on top, watching the fields and the city in the distance. It might start raining soon, but for now, the ground is dry and the grass ripples in the wind. Ron turns to Carwood, just smiling at him for a second before he speaks.
“Imagine being a soldier here. Running up this hill every day, sleeping in those barracks, an angry drill sergeant breathing down your neck...”
Carwood nudges Ron’s foot with his. “We could try it out.”
Ron looks at him with a question in his eyes, and Carwood answers with a smirk before he jumps up and stands at attention. "Captain Speirs."
It takes a few tries before Ron is able to stifle his grin. He clambers up from the ground and stands in Carwood’s personal space, playing the drill instructor. "At ease, Sergeant."
Carwood frowns, breaking his role. "Sergeant?"
"That's right." Ron says, his voice as cold and even as he can manage. "Your promotion to the rank of lieutenant depends on your performance on the physical fitness test."
Carwood grins.
“Is that funny to you?”
“No, sir.”
Both of their lips wobble from suppressed laughter, but somehow, Ron makes it through his next line without giggling. "If you can beat your captain, I may make you an officer, soldier."
"I accept the challenge, sir."
They have a push-up contest right there on the hill until they collapse next to each other from a mix of exhaustion and laughter. Carwood wins, but Ron is not about to admit it and they fight about it playfully while the light wind sweeps over the hill and dries the sweat on their foreheads. Ron’s grin gentles into a small smile that keeps playing about his lips as he stares at the cloudy sky. His arms tremble, but he doesn’t know if it’s from the exercise or from the love that pumps a steady stream of bubbles into his veins. He turns his head to look at Carwood and finds him looking back. How could Ron ever hope to get over it when he is always looking back?
It wouldn’t take much to close the distance and kiss him. Only an inch or two. He could do it in a blink.
"Do you and Suzie make out a lot?" Ron whispers, unable to contain the question anymore even though it makes him cringe on the inside.
"Wha - no." Carwood frowns, almost affronted. "We haven't done anything since the swim meet."
Ron raises his eyebrows. “I thought you were dating.”
The confused lines on Carwood’s face deepen. "I barely know her."
"You don't need to know someone to want them."
"What do you mean?"
Ron casts his gaze down to Carwood’s shoulder. "I got to third base with a girl last summer but we haven't talked since."
"What?” Carwood murmurs softly. “You never told me."
"I wanted to keep it a secret." He never felt like it was something he should boast about, it was… personal. He didn’t want anyone to know these things about him.
"So, um, was it you who… or did she…?"
Ron purses his lips, but he forces himself to meet Carwood’s eyes again. He feels weird. Wants to talk about it and not at the same time. "Both."
Carwood blinks, stunned. His pupils are wide circles of black in his warm brown eyes. "How did you know you liked her?"
She reminded me of you, Ron wants to say, but he decides to go with a simple, shallow explanation instead. It’s safer. "She was pretty."
"Was she your first?"
"My first what?"
"Everything."
"I had a few kisses before." He shrugs. "Three girls. And a guy, once."
"Oh." Carwood looks thoughtful and strangely nervous upon hearing that, but not in a bad way. He winds a blade of grass around his index finger. "If you liked a guy, would you ask them out or would you wait for them to make the first move?"
Ron used to think he'd always go for it first, but this year upended everything. The stakes seem too high to take the risk. "I don't know." He mumbles, wishing to change the topic. "Will you ask Suzie out?"
The question seems to catch Carwood off-guard. He sits up, pushes his hands into his pockets and raises his shoulders. He hasn’t moved far, but the distance between them feels like a yawning gap again. "I don't think so."
Even days after their adventure, Ron’s daydreams still wander back to the split second when he almost mustered up the courage to kiss Carwood. If it wasn’t for the conversation he overheard at the library, he might have done it, he thinks, and he’s not sure if he should be grateful or simply frustrated about it. Even if Carwood rejected him, at least he would have known what it was like to kiss him.
He’s in Chemistry, working on an experiment with Dick as his lab partner, when he gets tangled in gossip again. It’s Nix’s fault. He keeps nudging Dick from the other side until Dick heaves a long-suffering sigh and relays the message to Ron.
"Nix wants you to know that he bumped into Lip and Suzie Baker by the music room this morning."
Ron grunts. Everyone knows that there's a hidden make-out spot in that corridor. Did Carwood change his mind? His blood turns to ice. Whatever. He doesn’t want to hear it. The glue hasn’t even dried in his broken heart, he can’t deal with these rumours right now. He focuses on a more interesting question. "And what was Nix doing there?"
Dick shifts in his seat uncomfortably and scribbles down some kind of equation, refusing to answer.
It’s Nix who leans forward to meet Ron's eyes over the table. "I was looking for a hot eskimo." He winks.
Ron just stares. What? Eskimo? He doesn't get it.
"Mr Nixon, eyes on your work please." The teacher interrupts them.
Ron shakes his head, then props his cheek up in his palm and starts doodling on the margin of his notebook. He draws a sword, then next thing he knows, he's drawn a heart above it, pierced by the tip of the weapon. He frowns at it, then scratches it all out. God, who cares about Chemistry? Ron sure doesn't.
"Is this what it's supposed to look like?" Dick turns to him again, holding up a container with a silvery substance formed on its inner side.
"I guess." Ron wonders if that's actual silver.
Dick hums. "It must have been an aldehyde then…"
Ron lays his head down on his arms and stares out the window, but he still hears Nix behind him, whispering with Dick until Dick raises his voice a little, enough for Ron to make out his words.
"No, I'm not going to tell him, I don't want to gossip."
That’s enough of this bullshit. Ron rolls his eyes and leans over the back of Dick's chair to talk to Nix directly. "What."
Nix meets him halfway, resting an arm on Dick’s back. "I think she was crying, but I’m not sure because she hugged Lip after."
When he sees Ron's unimpressed look, he opens his mouth to go on, but that’s all he gets to say before their Chemistry teacher catches him again. Unfortunately, that morsel of information is enough to spark Ron’s curiosity. Despite himself, he’s awash with hope again. What if Carwood turned her down in person? But why would she hug him then? He sighs. Romance is the bane of his existence.
To celebrate Ron’s sixteenth birthday, Carwood takes him to a climbing gym. It's a wonderful present, because Ron has always wanted to try it but he never had anyone to go with, and it's another proof of how well Carwood knows him. Since they have no experience whatsoever, even the easiest bouldering courses seem difficult, but they have a lot of fun nevertheless. Ron laughs more that day than he did all week, and as a bonus, it gives him a chance to admire Carwood's strength and agility and the sweat glistening on his arms. It’s worth Ron’s sore fingers and the aching muscles in his arms.
They get McDonald's after and walk to a nearby park to eat it on a bench there. It's unusually hot for April, but they find respite in the shade of a tree. The sounds of birdsong and buzzing life create a cheerful atmosphere around the fresh green vegetation. Spring is in full bloom.
Carwood sticks a fry in Ron’s ice cream and they pretend it’s a candle, and Ron closes his eyes and wishes for a kiss when he blows it out. Sixteen. It feels like it was a lifetime ago when he met that blond boy with the sad brown eyes. Although Carwood's hair darkened over time and his eyes aren't that sad anymore, Ron's heart still trips in his chest when they're together. Those four years he spent in a different city weren't enough to change that.
They rest there in comfortable silence until all the food is gone, then Carwood takes the takeaway bag to the closest recycling bin. When he sits back down, he’s closer to Ron than before, and their arms touch. Ron takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes and tips his head back to enjoy the breeze that caresses his face. It carries the heavy scent of cherry blossom mingled with Carwood’s smell. It’s a struggle not to show how much it intoxicates him.
"We should do this more often." He says.
"Yeah." Carwood replies, and there's a smile in his voice. Is he watching Ron right now? "Do you have any plans for tomorrow?"
"Not really. I wanted to put a new model together." Ron shrugs, referring to the wooden airplane kits his grandpa got him for his birthday. He’s been hanging the finished models from his ceiling, so it looks like there’s a huge aerial battle above him when he lies in his bed.
Carwood clears his throat. "We could go to the movies if you want. I still have Luz's gift card."
"Okay." Ron grins, but still doesn’t open his eyes, too comfortable to move. What a perfect birthday. "There's a new Guy Ritchie movie."
Carwood snickers. "It's your choice."
It’s not until the next morning that Ron realizes - he and Carwood are going to the movies. They will buy popcorn and soda and will sit in the dark while a bunch of British gangsters double-cross each other on screen. Is it - are they going on a date? Did Carwood ask him out? Or was it just a friendly invitation or something? He’s thoroughly confused and shaking from the sudden barrage of butterflies in his stomach. Oh God, if it’s a date, he needs to prepare!
He spends most of his day fretting about it. Although he barely has any facial hair, he shaves just in case it matters, and he racks his mind trying to remember which of his clothes Carwood likes the most. He’s attempting to do something with his hair, using one of his sister’s combs, when his phone lights up with an incoming text. It’s from Carwood.
Can I take a raincheck on that movie?
Ron’s disappointment couldn’t be measured. He should have known it wasn’t going to happen. It was too good to be true.
of course. no prob.
He pauses after his message is sent. It’s not Carwood’s style to call something off last-minute. What if something’s wrong?
are you ok?
He waits a few minutes, standing in the middle of his sister’s room, staring at the screen, but nothing happens.
Carwood???
The reply is instant this time.
I just don't want to go out
Is this about your dad, Ron starts to type out, but deletes it quickly. Of course it's about him. Everything is. The emptiness left by his death and the memories of that car crash haven’t stopped haunting Carwood ever since. Ron presses his phone to his chin for a second to think it through carefully before he replies.
come over and finish the model w me. don't have to talk
I'm not good company rn
you're always good company
For the longest time, the app indicates that Carwood is typing, but in the end, Ron receives only two words.
Ok. Coming
True to his promise, Ron doesn't press Carwood to talk. It's evident from the redness around his eyes that he's been crying, but he doesn't mention it and Ron doesn't ask. They sit with their backs against Ron's bed and spill the unfinished half of the airplane model kit on Ron's floor. It's a bit like a 3D puzzle, and Ron enjoys working on it with Carwood, figuring out the right place for each piece, passing parts back and forth and helping each other when something goes wrong. Their fingers brush sometimes.
"Mom and I had a fight." Carwood says softly after almost an hour of quiet work. When Ron stops tinkering with the plane to look at him, his shoulders sag. "She wanted me to help sort out the bills and then to mow the lawn, and I tried to tell her that I had plans but she flipped out and… you know how it usually goes."
Ron turns sideways and puts his left arm on the bed, sliding it behind Carwood's back. "Did she call you a disappointment again?"
The look in Carwood's sad eyes is answer enough. "I know she didn't mean it, but it still hurts."
"It's not your duty to be your father's replacement, and your mom knows it too." He presses his thumb to Carwood's shoulder. This isn't the first time they've had this conversation, but he doesn't mind. He'll repeat it a thousand times if that's what Carwood needs. "You don't have to take care of everyone and everything."
"I know." Carwood exhales a long breath and turns to face Ron fully. "But I need to hear it sometimes."
Ron nods, pleased to see Carwood smile. "Better now?"
Carwood hums yes. He glances at the plane on the floor. "Where are you going to put it?"
Ron picks it up and examines it in his hands. "Maybe, I'll give it to you." He moves it to Carwood's shoulder, holding it there. "What do you think? Do you like it?"
Carwood laughs. "It's nice."
They lapse into silence, but it's a good emptiness to share. Carwood watches Ron's eyes and Ron watches him, breath trembling and palms clammy, and they both lean forward at the same time but it's Carwood who leaps over the distance and presses a kiss to Ron's mouth.
He pulls back a split second later. "Was that okay?"
Ron nods. His smile wobbles from how nervous and uncontrollably happy he is. Is he dreaming? He dives in for another chaste kiss and Carwood breaks into a relieved grin when their lips part. He touches Ron's knees, and then his sides, and just like that, they're hugging. It's awkward but so, so warm and exciting. Carwood doesn't smell like chlorine but almonds, and those big hands of his run up and down Ron's back like he's been starving for this hug too.
Ron exhales his most satisfied sigh ever. He feels it even in his bones. "Was it better than Suzie Baker's?"
"Loads." Carwood laughs and sits back on his haunches. He reaches for Ron's hands. His face is bright red and his gaze keeps darting between Ron's and the floor. "I want to do it again."
Ron smiles. "All right."
They kiss again and again, pressing a bit longer each time, until Ron miscalculates in his eagerness and their noses bump together.
"Ow." Carwood chuckles and squeezes Ron's hands. "Easy."
"Sorry."
"It's okay."
Ron can't help but laugh again. He feels a different kind of sickness now, a high so strong that he's dizzy and feverish from it. He presses a quick kiss to Carwood's nose as an apology, then a longer one to his scarred cheek the way he always wanted to, and he feels Carwood's stuttering breaths on his skin after each touch. His stomach flips from the overload of sensation.
"If you're ready -" Ron whispers when he reaches Carwood's lips again. "- open your mouth."
When Carwood lets him in, he does it without shyness or hesitation, and he follows Ron's lead happily until the kiss turns noisy and wet and they're breathing each other's exhales. A giddy thought cuts to the forefront of Ron's mind. I know him like no one else does. He's given it to me.
It's a lot to take in at once.
"I'm sorry I cancelled our movie date." Carwood says when they break apart to compose themselves.
Ron shakes his head. Who cares about that movie now? "Was that going to be a date?"
"Of course." Carwood snickers, stroking Ron's hands. "The third one. The base was the first."
Ron purses his lips for a moment and chuckles, embarrassed. He should have realized. Why did he think he never stood a chance? "I'm an idiot."
"Maybe. But I like you." Carwood smiles, and this time, Ron is allowed to press his lips to it and soak up the heat.
~End~