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The door creaked open and fell shut again; a bit of shuffling followed as Alex presumably slipped out of his shoes, and then there was the soft sound of socked feet padding over the hardwood floor.
John set his knife aside and turned, put the small of his back against the counter just in time to watch Alex skip through the doorway into their tiny kitchen.
His smile was so incredibly bright it was contagious, and his eyes sparkled with excitement–John loved him. Oh, did he love him.
Alex threw himself into his outstretched arms without hesitation and gave him a quick kiss hello. He rested his chin on his shoulder for a moment, content as John let his hands travel up and down the length of his back, both of them just enjoying the closeness.
It had been a little over a week since they had moved into their tiny apartment with nothing more than the clothes on their backs and a blanket from the car-trunk, and John was still overcome every time anew when he got to hold and kiss Alex without worry of someone seeing. Someone recognising.
Someone telling his father.
“Why are you chopping carrots? It’s two in the afternoon, John,” Alex said and leaned back to look at him, lips forming a soft smile John couldn’t help but taste.
“It’s for a salad, baby,” he mumbled against those lips, and Alex giggled quietly. “Needs to sit a couple of hours.”
“You’re such a housewife,” Alex said and strained up to nuzzle their noses together, his incredible eyes soft and happy, and John could practically feel himself fall for that boy once more.
“Yes, and?” he said, gripping him around the hips and yanking him in; Alex rewarded him with a soft squeak and a beautiful flush. “I’ll make you a healthy meal every day until I can’t count your ribs anymore, and you will eat every single one of them without a word of complaint, got it?”
Alex’s flush deepened as his eyes went wide, and he nodded meekly. John flashed a grin, and kissed him again, just because he could; they still had a lot of missed kisses to make up for, after all.
“Enough about dinner, though. How was your interview?”
Alex perked right back up, and his excitement returned with a vengeance. “Oh, it was amazing!” he began and took John by the hand, guided him out of their small kitchen, past their worn, paint-shedding cabinets, and into the barren living room.
They sat on the old, flowery sofa–courtesy of the former inhabitant of the apartment, who may or may not have died in here, which may or may not have brought the rent down into affordable territory for them–and Alex swung both his legs up over John’s lap before he went on.
“Jonathan is- he’s… hard to describe. Eccentric? But so, so kind, and he said he really liked my essays George sent him, and that he was glad to finally meet me- me! No one’s ever glad to meet me, but anyway, he offered me the scholarship basically on the spot, and-” Alex’s rapidfire recounting tumbled to an abrupt stop, and John had a vague sense of whiplash.
“And?” he prompted gently and cupped Alex’s cheek in the palm of one hand, thumb stroking over the soft skin. His other hand found its place on his thigh and squeezed in careful encouragement.
Alex’s suddenly teary gaze snapped back to him, but before his concern had a chance to settle, a brilliant smile dispelled those dark clouds again.
“I’ll go to college,” he said, awe-struck.
“You’ll go to college,” John repeated and leaned in, kissed him softly, hoped Alex could feel just how much he loved him through that simple press of lips. “And I’m so proud of you, baby.”
He pulled back and was gifted with another one of Alex’s adorable blushes.
Alex cleared his throat and squirmed a bit closer, resting his head on John’s shoulder, fingers playing with the frayed neckline of the soft shirt he wore for a lazy day spent at home.
Home. John curled an arm around his beautiful boyfriend’s shoulders and choked back his tears.
No place had ever truly felt like home to him before… and just a week with Alex in a tiny, old apartment over a laundromat next to a busy street–that may or may not have contained a dead body for an undisclosed amount of time–had given the formerly nebulous concept of home a whole new, concrete meaning.
“You know, I mentioned you to Jonathan. He said they’re still taking people, and if you send over an application, he could put in a good word for you to the admission guys,” he mumbled.
John kissed the crown of his head and let Alex’s words linger for a long moment.
“I don’t know, Alex, I’ve been looking around for a job… I thought I could do evening-classes or something on the side, maybe something in business…” he trailed off and shrugged the one shoulder unoccupied by Alex.
“Business?” he repeated, sceptical. “What, you’ll become a cutthroat like-”
The silence crashed into them like a freight-train might have, and John’s chest grew tight. He stayed silent.
“Is, um. Is that what you want? Would that make you happy?” Alex said, small and tentative, and John knew he was serious. That Alex would support him, no matter what.
“I… don’t know, baby. Just, I don’t know anything else. I’ve never-”
He had never thought he could stray from his father like this. John had been resigned to the role he’d been born for, the mold so many eldest sons around this country were squeezed into; he’d been supposed to take over the family-business once his father retired, and he had never even considered anything else.
“Hmm.” Alex pushed himself up and rested his elbow on his shoulder instead, scrutinised him with heavy, deep eyes John tended to get lost in. “What would suit you? You’re too sweet for business. Too kind.”
John ducked his head, overly aware of the hot flush creeping up his neck.
“...maybe something with kids?” he suggested gently, treading on careful soles.
John’s mind flew back to his kids immediately, his siblings, the children he had protected for the past ten years, and his eyes grew hot with tears.
He missed them every day.
“Maybe you could be a teacher,” Alex went on and softly cupped his face between both his palms, put a sweet kiss to his nose. “You’re patient, and kind, and approachable, and you care.”
“A teacher?” He let that bounce around his head for a bit, the thought of teaching. Sure, he liked children, and he would say he could handle them quite well, but- that meant college. They couldn’t both do that, not if they wanted to keep this apartment. “I don’t know, sweetheart, someone has to work-”
A soft chuckle interrupted him. “John,” Alex said with a playful glint to his eyes, and God, he wanted to kiss him, wanted to lay him down on their questionable sofa, and nip little kisses down his throat- “You don’t have to be the man of the house. We could just- both of us could go to college, and both of us could get part-time jobs, and then we would get by just fine.”
“O- oh. Right, I-” he swallowed around his tight throat and pulled Alex closer again, comforted by his warmth and the knowledge that he wouldn’t judge him for his tears. “I’m just… kind of used to- you know. Being the adult. Being the responsible one.”
Alex snorted a laugh and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, leaned their foreheads together. “You’re not my parent, John, you’re my boyfriend. We’re both responsible.”
He let out a long breath and shook himself. “Right. But anyway, um, have you picked out your major yet?”
Alex gave him a look at the desperate change of topic, but then he kissed his cheek and put his head back on his shoulder.
“I was thinking English Literature?”
“Literature? Yeah, that fits. And what are you going to do with your future doctorate in English Lit?” he said and delighted in Alex’s embarrassed grumble of stop it.
A moment passed by in comfortable silence, and Alex hid his face against his neck.
“Promise not to laugh?” he said, muffled into his skin, and John scoffed.
“Of course I won’t laugh, baby.”
A deep breath tickled his collarbone. “Okay. Um, I want to write? Maybe?”
“Write? As in, books?” he said, a slow smile spreading over his features, and he gently squeezed Alex around the waist.
“Yes?”
“Aww, baby, that would be just amazing. I can’t wait to read something you wrote,” he mumbled into his hair, held him a little tighter. “What are you going to write about?”
“Well,” he breathed and cuddled closer. “I think… I want to write about friendship, and love, and family- but not the one by blood. The one you choose, the one that chooses you back. You know, the good things. There’s so much bad in the world already.”
“Oh,” he said, so very weak, his voice small with sudden tears. “Oh, sweetheart, that sounds wonderful. You’re wonderful. I love you so much.”
Somehow, Alexander managed to make him fall for him anew every single day.
If this wasn’t love, he thought, remembering the pastor back in their small town, spitting about fire and brimstone, then he didn’t know what was. Nothing could possibly be better than this.
“I love you, too,” Alex responded, easy as breathing, and shifted. He slid fully into his lap, and John rested his hands loosely at his hips as they kissed for a few minutes, soft and slow and unhurried in a way they'd only ever had the chance to once before they’d left; that weekend spent at the cabin.
They separated with tender looks and gentle touches exchanged.
Alex trailed a single finger up and down his chest, raising gooseflesh under his thin shirt.
“Do you want to write that application? I could help.”
John considered that for a moment, staring up into those beautiful dark eyes, thinking about how he would sacrifice everything all over again just to make sure there would never be another ounce of pain reflected in them.
Well. Now that his dream named Alexander had come true, he would need something else to work towards.
He thought about Mister Washington, what he had done for Alex, how most of his students not only respected but also trusted him as someone they could go to if something was wrong, and… maybe that was what he wanted.
To be there. To help kids like them, the ones with the shitty dads, the ones under too much pressure, the ones who were told they were wrong.
“Yeah, baby,” he said and cracked a smile. “I think I would like that.”
The smile he got in response was brighter than the dawn of a new day–and more beautiful, too.
