Work Text:
"Mom, why can't I come?"
Mrs. Mega sighs softly, cupping Curt's face gently. "Curtis, honey, you're gonna be bored to tears."
"No I won't!"
"Last time I brought you to the book club, you wiggled that chair so much you fell right out of it!"
Curt looks down, puffing out his cheeks angrily. "It was an accident! I didn't mean-"
"I know you didn't mean, Curtis, but you just sat there going stir crazy. Why on earth would you want to go back?"
"I dunno."
Mrs. Mega frowns. "Pish-posh applesauce. Come on, talk to me. I can't do anything if you won't tell me."
"I don't want to be alone," Curt mumbles.
Mrs. Mega sighs quietly. "I thought you were gonna go over to the Peterson's, huh? You're friends with that boy, aren't you?"
<<<·>>>
"And then, you have the REALLY cool guns, and those are the ones that you can only use if you work for the government! And I read that sometimes, you can even-"
"Curt," Chuck Peterson groans, "Don't you ever talk about anything else?"
<<<·>>>
"Yeah," Curt says, "But we're not best friends or anything."
"Well, maybe if you two spend more time together, you will be!"
"I don't know, Mom. I don't think he even likes me."
"Curtis, Dorothy told me you two got on like a house on fire!"
<<<·>>>
"Come on, let's go play baseball or something! It'll be way more fun than this dumb spy stuff, okay?"
<<<·>>>
"She said you boys played outside for hours!"
"Yeah, but..."
Mrs. Mega's face falls. "Did something happen?"
Curt shakes his head quickly. "No, I just..."
<<<·>>>
"I just don't know what to do," Mrs. Mega whispers, shaking her head. "He keeps coming home with these little bruises... I think he's getting bullied, but every time I ask him, he won't tell me!"
<<<·>>>
"Hey Ruth, whatcha reading?"
The book is yanked from her head before she can reply.
"James, give it back!"
"Relax," He grins, "I just wanna look!"
"James, toss it here!"
"On it!"
"Guys, stop, just give me back my-"
"Hey Curt, catch!"
The book barely makes it into his hand.
"Over here, I'm open!"
"Nah, toss it here!"
Ignoring them, Curt hands the book back to the girl.
"Aw, come on! You're no fun."
"What's wrong, Mega, you got a crush?"
"Ooooh!"
Curt scowls, feeling his ears burn. "No! You guys are just being jerks."
"Yeah," Ruth says, "He's a gentleman, unlike you, James."
"Ooh," James laughs, "A gentleman. You gonna defend her honor, Mega?"
"Just shut up."
"Come on! I'm insulting your girl, you're not gonna do anything?"
"She's not my girl-"
"You're so stupid, James,-"
"Go on, Mega, do something!"
Curt turns, starting to walk away.
Immediately, he knows he's made a mistake.
"Aww, Curt's too chicken to do anything!"
"I'm not a chicken."
"Then prove it-"
Curt whips around, shoving the boy.
James scowls, and rearing back his fist, punches Curt in the face.
<<<·>>>
"Boys rough-house, Diane," Her neighbor soothes. "That's how they have fun."
"I know," She says, "But I don't think he even has any friends, and you know he's sensitive..."
"Well, maybe that's the problem. You've gotta stop babying him and let him toughen up, Di."
"I don't 'baby' him, I just don't want him hurt."
"I know, but he doesn't have his dad around to set an example for him. It messes with boys, not having a man to show them things."
"I'm doing the best I can," She hisses, voice raising.
Curt ducks farther away from the door, breathing silently to make sure he stays hidden.
"I know," The neighbor says, "But my Charlie said he didn't even know how to play baseball. You know, I could ask Rob to teach him-"
"He doesn't want to do any of that. He's never liked sports."
"Don't you think that's strange?"
"Why would it be?"
<<<·>>>
Curt ducks his head, mumbling, "I like doing stuff with you, Mom. And I don't want you to be alone."
Mrs. Mega pulls him into a hug. "Aw, sweetheart, I like doing stuff with you too. But you don't gotta avoid your friends just to keep me company, alright?"
<<<·>>>
"Maybe you should put him on the team anyways."
"I'm not gonna force him to do something he doesn't want to do," Mrs. Mega insists.
"Well then, don't be surprised if the other boys in his school are treating him like a sissy."
<<<·>>>
"Charlie, come inside for a few minutes!"
"Mom, we're in the middle of a game!"
"I know, but you need to drink some water-"
"Maybe she's right," Curt says. "I mean, we could stop for a few minutes, right?"
Chuck rolls his eyes. "You're such a sissy, dude."
<<<·>>>
"I'm not gonna tell Curtis what to like," Mrs. Mega says firmly.
"It's your choice, Diane. But he's never gonna make friends if all he does is play pretend and talk about some spy book you read to him."
<<<·>>>
"I just..." Mrs. Mega hesitates. "I know you've been having some trouble finding friends..."
Curt looks away, embarrassed.
"And I don't want you missing out on this friend because of me, okay?"
Curt doesn't respond.
Mrs. Mega frowns. "Curtis, you two are friends, right?"
<<<·>>>
"Forget making friends," Dorothy says. "He's not gonna find a girlfriend either."
"He doesn't need to worry about that right now."
"Well, he'll have to eventually. And no girl's gonna look at him if people are saying he's a fag."
"Lord, Dorothy, don't call him that!"
"That's what the neighbors are saying! And he ain't doing anything to make them say otherwise. You gotta start talking to him about this stuff, Di."
"I am not going to tell him to start acting differently just because some people are judgemental. That's not fair to him."
"Doesn't matter if it's fair," She shrugs. "It's life. So, do you want his life to be good or bad?"
<<<·>>>
"Yeah, Mom," Curt says, swallowing past the lump in his throat. "We're pretty good friends."
Mrs. Mega smiles wide, relief evident in her eyes. "See! Why don't you go over there while I'm at book club, alright? You can tell Dorothy I sent you, I'm sure she'd love to see you."
Curt nods. "Yeah. Sounds good."
Mrs. Mega hugs him, kissing his forehead. "You boys have fun, alright?"
"Uh-huh."
<<<·>>>
"Curt?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you... Like me?"
Curt looks up in alarm.
Ruth flushes, looking down. "Sorry, I just- Betty Hyde said- Oh, forget it."
"No, wait!"
Ruth turns, eyes wide. "Yeah?"
"I, uh. Do you like me?"
Ruth's cheeks darken. "Maybe."
Curt gulps, nodding. "Well. Well, good. Cause, I like you too."
Ruth lights up. "You do?"
<<<·>>>
Mrs. Mega leaves.
Curt watches her go, eyes following until she disappears from view.
Then, Curt runs to his room, grabbing Epitaph For A Spy off his shelf and heading to the backyard, brushing some dirt from the garden onto himself. Should be convincing enough for his mom.
Then, Curt heads for the bush towards the front, crouching behind it, and leaning back.
At least he can get in another chapter.
<<<·>>>
Contrary to popular belief, Curt tells Owen proudly, he likes being alone.
He always has, actually. When he was younger, he used to run around his mother's garden, trying to find the perfect hiding spot where no one could find him. Whenever classmates offered a seat to him, he'd politely decline, finding his own table somewhere away from everyone else. He had plenty of friends, but he just didn't like spending time with big crowds.
No, he tells Owen simply, he works much better alone. So, they might be on the same case, might be forced together due to their agencies, but that doesn't mean they're partners or anything like that.
Owen says that they're alike in that regard, and that's perfectly fine. He gives the same easy, confident smile as Curt.
But Curt can't help noticing that Owen's looks much less forced.
<<<·>>>
When Curt falls for Owen, he falls hard.
Soon enough, he's latched onto Owen like a bird on a branch. Sure, he plays it off alright. He scoffs, pushes compliments aside, dodges kisses.
In short, he does just enough to convince Owen that he doesn't care.
Just enough so that when it's nighttime, and Owen is asleep, and Curt jerks awake with tears in his eyes, and curls into his partner just a bit too closely, if, god forbid, Owen were to wake up, Curt would be able to convince him everything is fine.
It's a miracle, Curt thinks in the first few months, watching Owen laugh and longing to grab his hand, but forcing himself back, because he doesn't need to look like a pansy in front of the only person to give a shit about him in years.
It's a miracle, how you can be surrounded by people and still feel so lonely that it's almost suffocating.
But the more time that passes, the more Owen smiles and kisses and loves without trickery, the more Curt loosens and trusts and feels safe.
When Curt falls for Owen, he falls hard.
<<<·>>>
And yet, when Owen falls, he hits the ground even harder.
<<<·>>>
If Curt thought adjusting to being loved was hard, going back to the way things were before that is hell.
It's been two years, and yet, sometimes Curt will still turn to his left, starting to crack a joke, before he realizes there's no one there. Just a ghost.
The ghost has been there for a while now, and really, Curt is sure that's not entirely healthy, and if he's hallucinating, he should probably stop drinking so much.
Still, a haunted apartment is better than an empty one.
So, Curt downs another bottle.
It burns going down, just enough warmth to make him believe, even for a second, that he's not alone.
<<<·>>>
Curt's more than used to how it feels being by himself.
And, it seems like everytime he beats it, it returns with a vengeance, a million times worse than the last.
Owen swore he was different, but then he disappeared. Then, he came back, in the worst way, and left again.
He finds the Informant, and then he kills him.
He returns to Cynthia and Barb, and then he's forced to leave them again.
Really, his mother is the one person in his life that's never left, and really, how fucking pathetic is that?
He's been burned more times than he can count.
He's learned what happens when you try to make friends.
He knows that even the warmest hellos inevitably end in a cold goodbye.
And yet.
And yet.
<<<·>>>
"I wasn't sure you were coming," Tatiana smirks, teasingly mean.
It would be convincing, if not for the hug that immediately follows, full of nothing but warmth.
When they part, Tatiana's smile is genuine.
Curt smiles back, tired but sincere.
"Sorry. Traffic was shit."
"Mm, well, I did say we should meet closer to me."
"Like your traffic isn't worse?"
"Touche," Tatiana hums. "Lucky for you, I already ordered for us." She hands him a cup.
Curt blinks, surprised. "Did you know my order?"
"It's the same every time. Coffee with vanilla and as much cream and sugar as they can fit into the cup."
<<<·>>>
Tatiana takes a sip, then raises an eyebrow. "Is this one yours?"
Curt chuckles uneasily, taking the cup and giving his own to Tatiana. "Whoops. Yeah. Just uh, asked for extra sugar this time. For, you know. Energy. To counteract the whiskey, you know? Not what I usually order, but."
Tatiana hums. "Well, it tasted good. You should get that more often."
Curt looks at her a moment, then shrugs a shoulder, forcibly nonchalant. "I usually order that, actually. Don't know why I said I didn't." He studies Tatiana's face, waiting for a reaction. Some snide response. A chuckle, even.
She just nods. "Alright, then."
Slowly, Curt nods back. "...Alright."
<<<·>>>
"See? Same order as the first time we did this. Minus the whiskey," Tatiana adds, and Curt smiles slightly at the pride in Tatiana's voice when she says it.
"Not since January."
Tatiana nods. "Sober is a good look on you, Curt. Better than a beard, for certain."
Curt laughs. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?"
"Mm..." Tatiana pretends to think. "Unlikely."
Curt snorts. "Fair enough."
"So," Tatiana says, taking a sip of her own drink. "How are things?"
Curt smiles, launching into a story from a few weeks back. It's a bit long-winded, but he knows from experience that Tatiana doesn't mind thorough explanations.
There's a lot about him that Tatiana doesn't mind, he finds.
He thinks that once upon a time, that would've set off alarm bells in his mind, like she was planning something or lying to him.
He's dealt with enough shit in his past to be cautious whenever someone seems to enjoy spending time with him, especially since life has taught him no one in their right mind would do that.
And yet.
Tatiana agrees when he suggests they meet up for coffee once a month.
Tatiana comes every month.
It's been about three years, now.
Maybe, Curt thinks, just maybe, people can still surprise him.
"I'd better head back," Tatiana says eventually. "Walk with me?"
"Sure," Curt smiles.
They chat for a few more minutes, taking the scenic route, before they eventually reach their stop.
"See you next March," Tatiana smiles, pulling Curt into a hug.
"See you then."
There's no doubt in his mind that he will.
Loneliness, he finds, is much easier to deal with when you know you're not really alone.