Work Text:
It was the black eye that really surprised him.
Reggie showing up over an hour late for rehearsal was also surprising. Reggie had a bit of a reputation for being flakey; a bit head-in-the-clouds and easily distracted by babies or dogs. But he had a thing about being punctual. If someone expected him at a certain time, he’d be there.
Reggie never, ever wanted to let someone down.
Bobby rocketed off the couch in Julie’s studio and had his fingertips on Reggie’s chin in the next instant, titling Reggie’s head so he could see the damage. The bruise was reddish purple, colouring the skin around his eye like a careless paint job. It made Reggie’s pale skin look even paler by comparison. Bobby’s anger ignited, ready to blow like a firework. That was always the way Reggie affected him: cold to hot in seconds. “The fuck did this to you?”
Reggie wrenched his jaw away. “No one, okay? I’m fine.”
Alex, Luke and Julie left their instruments come over to see what was going on.
“Whoa.” Luke’s eyes went wide. “Who punched you?”
“No one punched me!” Reggie glared at him. “I got hit in the face with a dodge ball. It’s no big deal.”
He was lying. Bobby had spent way too much time studying the nuances of Reggie’s facial expressions; had practically made a hobby of categorizing the rise and fall of Reggie’s eyebrows and the way his lips moved. He could tell by the way Reggie’s gaze slipped from Luke’s that he wasn’t telling the truth.
Someone had hit Reggie, and that sonofabitch was going to die.
“Reggie’s being bullied.”
Reggie had fled the studio as soon as rehearsal ended, and Julie and Luke had disappeared to her room right after to “write some music,” which was code for “making out.”
Alex had stayed since he hated being at home. Bobby had stayed to talk to him.
Alex raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t believe the dodge ball story?”
Bobby raised his eyebrows in return and crossed his arms for good measure. “Did you?”
Alex shook his head. “He doesn’t even have gym today.”
“I know,” Bobby growled. He’d memorized Reggie’s schedule like he’d memorized the subtleties of Reggie’s face. “Who did you think I have to kill?”
Alex shot him a look. “I don’t remember Reggie asking for your help.”
“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t need it,” Bobby countered. “Besides, it’s Reggie.”
Alex grimaced, then nodded. They both knew Reggie wouldn’t ask for help if he were drowning and someone had an extra life preserver. Reggie didn’t like to be a burden. “Doesn’t mean he’s actually being bullied, though.”
Bobby eyed Alex flatly. “So he got that black eye walking into a door?”
“I don’t know!” Alex threw up his hands. “Maybe he got into a fight defending someone.”
Bobby’s flat look didn’t change. “He would’ve told us.”
“True.” Alex’s mouth twisted. “I can’t imagine who’d want to bully Reggie. Everyone loves him.”
I love him. Bobby thought. “Yeah. Everyone does love him. He’s definitely one of the most popular boys in school.”
“Exactly! It’s impossible to think of anyone who’d want to hurt him.”
But someone had hurt Reggie. It was as obvious as the marks on his face. “I can’t think of anyone, either,” Bobby said, eyes narrowing. “But I'm going to find out.”
Bobby slid into the cafeteria seat next to Carrie. “Who did it, Carrie?”
Carrie scowled at him. “Why are you sitting with me?”
Bobby rolled his eyes. “I’m your brother, bitch. I can sit with you if I want.”
“No. You can sit with me if I want,” Carrie said pointedly. “And I don’t want. So fuck off.”
“As soon as you tell me who hit Reggie.”
Carrie’s sharp look changed to one of confusion. “You mean his black eye? I thought he walked into a door.”
Bobby’s eyes narrowed. Carrie and Bobby were twins, but she was one of the popular kids at Los Feliz while Bobby was… not. If anyone in school knew who’d hurt Reggie, it’d be her. “He’s lying.”
Carrie frowned. “Reggie doesn’t lie. I don’t think he knows how.”
“He knows. And he’s definitely lying about this,” Bobby spat. “And I want to find out who did it.” And kill them.
Carrie tilted her head. “But who’d want to hurt Reggie? He’s, like, the nicest guy in school. Everybody loves Reggie.”
“I know,” Bobby muttered. He surveyed the cafeteria, seeing the usual crowd of kids: The popular kids and the weebs, the theatre geeks and the skater kids, the science nerds, the gym rats and the goths. Reggie could’ve sat with any group at any table. His easy affection and infectious joy could win over anyone.
It’d won Bobby over from the moment they’d met.
Carrie watched him search the room with his eyes. “It’s not like they’re going to wear a sign saying: ‘I punched Reggie in the face’.”
Bobby frowned at her. “I know.”
Carrie was still watching him. “This really matters to you, doesn’t it?”
“He’s my friend,” Bobby said. There was way more to it, like quieting the possessive voice screaming, don’t touch! He’s mine! in his head, but Carrie didn’t need to know that.
“Right,” Carrie said dragging out the vowel, “I totally see you being this protective over Luke. Or Alex.”
“I would,” Bobby said.
The look Carrie leveled at him was pure skepticism. “Sure.”
Two days later, Bobby was no closer to finding out who’d hit Reggie, and the frustration was driving him crazy.
The bruising on Reggie’s face had faded from a reddish-violet to a darker purple, tinged with yellow at the edges. His usual humour had returned. Except for how the bruises were right there, Bobby would’ve never known anything had happened.
But Bobby knew.
He cornered Reggie at the end of practise. “Who did it, Reggie?”
Reggie startled. “What?”
“Hit you,” Bobby said. “It’s been two days, Reggie. I need to know.”
Reggie gulped, a subtle movement of his throat that Bobby couldn’t not watch. “No one hit me.”
“Liar,” Bobby said. “That’s from a punch and you know it.”
“I walked into a door!” Reggie snapped. “Like I said!”
Bobby’s eyes narrowed. “You said you got hit in dodge ball.”
Reggie’s mouth opened and closed for a moment. “I got hit with a dodge ball and fell into the door?”
“Reggie,” Bobby warned.
Reggie stuck out his jaw. “I’m not going to tell you Bobby, so quit asking.”
The rage roared up, blazing like a fire. “Who did this to you?”
“I’m not telling you!” Reggie shouted. “Get out of my face!”
“Not until you tell me!” Bobby shouted back.
"Leave me alone!” Reggie shoved him. Bobby took an automatic step back, shocked at Reggie touching him like that. He couldn’t ever remember Reggie laying a hand on anyone.
Reggie took advantage of his surprise and fled.
Bobby watched him go. His heart was a drumbeat of impotent rage slamming against his ribs.
Bobby quit asking Reggie who’d it been.
Instead, he started following Reggie around. Subtly, at enough of a distance Reggie wouldn’t notice; crossing the street when he needed to, full-on hiding when required.
He learned that Reggie loved dogs. Like, really loved them. Like stop-to-pet-all-of-them, loved them. It was painfully endearing and Bobby couldn’t help but imagine a future where he and Reggie had a dog together.
He learned Reggie knew everyone, and everyone knew him. Kids in the park, people on the street, shop owners… They all waved to Reggie and said “hello". It was like watching a young Mr. Rogers wander around his neighbourhood, and it was cute as fuck.
He learned that Reggie had a few part-time jobs. Well, jobs probably wasn’t the right word, because Bobby sincerely doubted that old lady paid him for helping her carry her bags home. Or the shop owner whom he helped move some boxes. Or the other old lady he helped across the street. Reggie seemed to have a schedule of people he just… helped with stuff. No reward required.
The boy was a total fucking angel, and the more Bobby followed him, the less he felt worthy. Reggie was good in a way Bobby couldn’t even touch.
If anything, seeing how good Reggie was just further galvanized Bobby to find out who’d hurt him. Because whoever was capable of hurting someone like Reggie needed someone like Bobby to take them on.
He also learned Reggie didn’t really go home.
Reggie made a habit of staying out until well past dinner. He’d finally head towards his house when the shadows were too long to ignore and the street lights were on. His steps, normally bouncy with his happiness, would get heavier and heavier until he was plodding towards his front door. His shoulders, normally thrown back with confidence, became more slumped the closer he got.
It made Bobby’s stomach tighten with concern. His hands curled into fists as he crept after Reggie, keeping to the shadows along the side of Reggie's driveway.
Reggie sighed like a free man returning to prison, and went inside his house.
The shouting started almost immediately, so loud Bobby could hear it from outside. He jogged to one of the nearer windows, bent over to avoid being seen. Cautiously, he stuck his head up just enough to see over the edge.
Reggie’s father was standing over him, screaming.
Bobby’s heart stopped beating. He watched, helpless, as Reggie shrunk in on himself, like he was waiting for a blow.
Why hadn’t he known this? How could he have been so blind to what was going on in Reggie’s home? He watched, horrified, as Reggie’s dad backhanded him across the face.
“NO!” Bobby screamed. “Don’t you fucking touch him!” He slammed his fist against the window, hard enough the glass cracked. Reggie and his father’s heads whipped around at the noise.
Bobby booked it to the front of the house and kicked the door with his heel, hard. He loved how the contact reverberated up his leg and the crack of the doorframe around the lock as it splintered.
The door flew open.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Reggie’s dad bellowed, hand on the door and spittle flying from his mouth like an animal.
Bobby pushed passed Reggie’s father and crossed to Reggie in two long strides, yanking the other boy behind him. He punched Reggie’s dad in the face. Pain radiated from his knuckles up his arm, but Bobby ignored it. He pulled his arm back to hit him again.
Reggie grabbed Bobby's elbow. “No! Bobby, no!”
Bobby fought him for a moment, then stopped. The satisfaction of hitting Reggie’s dad again wasn’t worth causing Reggie grief. “Grab your shit. We’re leaving.”
“What?”
“Get your shit!” he bellowed, and Reggie ran up the stairs.
Reggie’s dad was rubbing the side of his face where Bobby had hit him. “You can’t do that,” he whined. “Can’t break into a man’s home and hit him!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Bobby snarled at him.
They stood in uneasy silence, Bobby ’s rage burning in his chest. He stared down Reggie’s dad, letting every ounce of his contempt show on his face. The man flinched, like Bobby had hit him again.
Reggie came back down the stairs. Bobby took his duffel bag from him, and Reggie picked up his school bag from beside the broken door. He hadn’t even had the chance to take off his jacket.
“We’re going now,” Bobby said to Reggie’s father. “And if you come after him, I’ll fucking tear you apart.”
“Try it,” Reggie’s dad challenged him, but his voice quavered.
Bobby grinned ferally, knowing he’d won. “C’mon, Reggie,” he said. He backed out of the house, staring at Reggie’s father the entire time. He didn’t turn around until they’d reached the sidewalk.
“What the fuck was that, Bobby?” Reggie asked. He sounded more confused than angry, which Bobby took as a win. They’d only been away for a few seconds, but Reggie’s shoulders were already straighter, like a weight had been lifted.
The red mark on Reggie’s cheek from his father’s hand filled Bobby with so much fury he almost tore back inside and beat the man to death. “He was hurting you,” he ground out. “Now come on. We’re going home.”
He brought Reggie back to the studio, where there was way more privacy and way less Carrie. “You can stay here,” Bobby said, putting Reggie’s duffel down on the floor by the couch. “Julie’s dad won’t care.”
Reggie slumped onto the couch, holding his backpack like a pillow. “Yeah, Julie’s dad is pretty nice,” he said, then started to cry.
Bobby blinked, stunned. He’d seen Reggie mad, or laugh so hard he almost puked, but he’d never seen Reggie cry. He sat down beside him on the couch, close enough he could feel the heat from Reggie’s body. He put out his hand to touch him, then drew back, then decided fuck it and put his arm around him. Reggie leaned into him and put his head on Bobby’s shoulder, hot like a furnace from his tears.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he sobbed. “It was my dad. My dad hit me and I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d be mad. But you found out anyway, and he hit me again and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—” His breath hitched.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Bobby had no clue what to say, but his dad had always said that to him when he’d gotten hurt, and he remembered it kind of helped. He wanted to hug Reggie, but Reggie’s bag was in the way. “Can I move this?” Reggie nodded and Bobby put it onto the floor, then put his other arm around him in a kind of a hug. They were sitting beside each other so it was a really awkward angle, but it was way better than nothing. “It’s okay,” he said again.
“I’m sorry,” Reggie hiccupped. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Sorry I had to see that? He hit you! I’m sorry you went through that!” Bobby said, incredulous.
“But you hit him and hurt your hand.” Reggie gently took Bobby’s right wrist, bringing his hand down into his lap. “Look, your knuckles are cut.”
They were. Bobby flexed his hand, feeling the sting and pull of broken skin over the bone. He hadn’t even noticed. “Worth it.”
Reggie’s eyes met his. Their green was even more brilliant from the red rimming them and the shine of his tears. Drops still glistened on his cheeks. “Really?”
Bobby nodded, caught by Reggie’s gaze. “I’d do anything for you.” He swallowed.
“Oh,” Reggie said softly. Another tear rolled silently down his face. Bobby reached up and wiped it away with his thumb. Reggie winced from the light touch, making him wince in return. He’d forgotten Reggie’s bruises. “Sorry,” he said.
“Worth it,” Reggie said, and kissed him.
Bobby gasped in surprise, and Reggie took advantage of his open mouth to slide his tongue inside. He swirled it around like Reggie was tasting something he liked. Bobby hands went to Reggie’s hair, raking in his fingers and holding him in place. Reggie moaned against his mouth, and Bobby decided it was his life’s goal to have Reggie make that sound again. He surged into the kiss, propelling Reggie backwards onto the couch and covering Reggie’s body with his own.
Reggie’s hands found their way under Bobby’s shirt, and Bobby was sure he’d literally just died. He’d never dreamed he’d actually be kissing him like this, holding him like this. He’d wanted him for forever.
But Reggie had just been through something really bad; Now was probably not the time. Bobby broke their kiss, pressing their foreheads together. “We should probably go tell Julie’s dad you’re staying here for a while.”
“Okay,” Reggie said. He dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”
“I get it,” Bobby said. “I get that kind of shit is hard to talk about.”
Reggie nodded. “I just didn’t want you to think badly of my dad, you know?”
Bobby’s face darkened. “Your dad’s an asshole.”
Reggie squeezed his eyes shut. “I know. I know. I just…” he sighed.
“I get it,” Bobby said again. He didn’t get it, not really, but everything on Reggie’s face was telling him how hard this was for him. Bobby didn’t want to make it worse. A lock of hair had fallen over Reggie’s forehead, and Bobby carefully slid it back. Reggie’s eyes opened and once again Bobby was held by their gaze. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured.
“You saved me,” Reggie said. “Thank you.”
“I’d do anything for you. Remember?” Bobby said.
“I remember,” Reggie said softly.
Bobby stood, and Reggie let Bobby pull him to his feet. Bobby gave Reggie’s fingers a gentle squeeze. He smiled. “Let’s go.”
END