Work Text:
„Barry, get out of my house, for Christ’s sake!“ The words were still ringing in Barry’s ears as he walked towards the open front door of the Flanagan residence. Was it eleven o’clock already? Wow, time flies, when he kept losing in MMA.
It occured to him, as many times before, that he ought to fix the door for Mrs Flanagan. He was a man of few words, but quite manually skilled, therefore it should be no effort at all to tweak the door in such a way, that it hangs straight off the hinges. Oisín would whine, but he would help.
Oisín ... More like his brother than a friend. Including the usual slagging regarding Barry’s homework (or the usual lack thereof) and „successes“ on the ladies’ field. On the other hand, Barry was never too far behind with comments about the clothes Anne made Oisín wear or sandwiches she prepared for him for lunch. Jesus, how much they have laughed over the various combinations she has come up with … If only the food in her fridge could talk 😊 His personal favourites were gherkins: not that he would ever touch them personally, but it did not compare with the level of hatred Oisín has felt for them. Well … maybe fish.
He knew what the deep freeze would say, he smiled to himself. Penguins, nuggets and Magnums. And the occasional pizza with ham and pineapple that Anne would never ever admit loving, not even to Oisín.
But although they were hard lads – they were seventeen, after all - one topic was a strict taboo: Barry’s father. He was quizzed, hazed and bullied at school on the topic from day one, but Oisín has never mentioned him, has never asked. It looked like the information was simply not necessary for their friendship. And when things became too heated at school, he always invited him over to play computer. It gave Barry the feeling of belonging, having a safe space to just be himself.
Oisín protected him fiercely in front of Anne as well. It was clear to Barry that Oisín has loved his mother to bits and that their, even though somewhat dysfunctional, communication was actually something mutually agreed, even preferred. Since he rarely felt sure, how to contribute to their verbal game of mutual abuse, he remained silent unless directly asked. Luckily, there was always something that Anne wanted to know ...
Anne. No matter how many times he has pondered her behaviour, he could not figure her out. She usually was very vocal regarding Barry staying in the house and has thrown him out quite a few times. But still, she has never, ever, forbidden him to come in. Could it be due to the fact that when they spoke, he was generally already in the house? Barry was not sure.
Mrs Flanagan was very strict regarding the house rules too – with both of them – and yet, he did not mind. If he was honest with himself, it was still 1000x better than the „basic care“ his mother has „provided“. He did not mind helping Anne around the house and especially in the garden. And no, it was not all playing football and eating Magnums as Anne sometimes presented it to others. Barry knew that she saw it and he considered it sort of a praise in disguise.
„Stop going on and on in your own head“ he told himself and walked through the main entrace door. He decided not to fix them: it was, after all, an easy way in for him. Being lanky as he was, a hole in a fence would simply not do ... Not to forget that either him or Oisín would need to fix it immediately should Anne ever lay eyes on it. No, the door will remain as it is.
It reminded him of an old proverb that has caused him a few trials on the latest English exam ... How did it go? „We do not choose our family“? Something like that. Then he stopped, looked back at the Flanagans’ house and smiled: “Maybe if you are really lucky, you are able to.“