Work Text:
Vinny kicked a pebble with the toe of his shoe as he watched the soccer game in the neighboring field. It was normal, he knew. Once the excitement wore off, no one actually wanted to play with the new kid.
Especially when the new kid was a delicate little nerd like Vinny.
He scratched the cast on his left arm. Two days ago, it was all anyone wanted to talk about. How'd he break it? Did it hurt? Why'd you pick blue? Can I draw on it? He ignored the first two questions. It wasn't anyone's business but his own. Besides, it was… embarrassing. Who breaks their arm from walking into a tree? Apparently, Vinny did.
"Boo."
Vinny yelped and flinched, the entire swing under him shuddering with his movement. Fortune must have had an eye on him for once, since he didn't fall to the ground and break his other arm.
The voice's owner giggled. His thin fingers covered his mouth and nose. A pair of thick glasses framed his crinkled eyes, and a stray lock of ebony hair fell over his brown face.
"Mwen fè ou pè," he chuckled, his dark amber eyes lighting up in glee.
"What?"
"Scared you."
Vinny scowled and settled into his seat again, wrapping his good arm around the chain. He kicked up another rock from the gravel.
"Yeah. So what? 'S not that hard."
"You're Vincent, wi?"
Vinny shot a side-long glance to the boy now straddling the swing next to him.
"Who's asking?"
"Alan Lejeune. Kontan!" he said.
He extended a slender hand, a crooked smile splitting his face in two. Vinny eyed the offering skeptically.
"I remember you," he said slowly. "You sit in the corner in my bio class."
"Wi," said Alan, his grin somehow widening as his hand lowered to hold the swing chain. "You got here just in time, too. We're gonna dissect frogs next week!"
"Gross," laughed Vinny.
"Wanna be my partner? You could use it, with your arm like that."
Vinny lifted his cast and sighed.
"Yeah, probably need it. Thanks."
"Pa gen pwoblèm! You're really doing me a favor. People, uh… don't like to work with me."
"Why not?"
Alan shrugged, saying, "They think I'm weird."
Vinny blinked and nodded. Weird. He heard that word wherever he moved.
"Me, too," he whispered. "I'm too smart. You're real smart, too, huh?" he asked.
"I have a good memory. It's not photographic, but it's good."
"Well, you remembered my name. Lotta people call me 'new kid.' You can call me Vinny, though."
"Vinny," Alan repeated. "If you like that better."
"Only my friends get to call me Vinny. But we're gonna be partners, right?"
This time, Vinny held up his own tentative hand. Alan glanced at it, scanned Vinny's face, and smiled again. He slapped his tan hand into the pale offering and shook.
"Partners."
"Scalpel," Al asked, holding his hand out.
Vinny obediently placed the razor in his hand. It looked so natural in the other teen's hand, like it belonged there, and he moved like it was a part of him as he sliced into the bullfrog's muscle. Vinny watched, enthralled by the twitch of Alan's hands as he manipulated his way into the creature. Maybe he spent too much time in the hospital, but the sounds and smells didn't really bother him. They didn't seem to bother Al, either, as he pulled a flap of tissue aside to reveal the dark innards.
"Pins."
Vinny pressed the metal haphazardly through the flaps to anchor them. He bit his lip at how sloppy it looked, despite Al assuring him a thousand times that it 'doesn't need to be exact." Together, they repeated the task on the other side.
"Whoa, are these eggs?" Vinny asked, poking a misshapen sack of lumpy bile.
"Neat," grinned Al.
Vinny watched Al carefully extract the various parts from the frog and helped him label them. Al delicately pinched the liver between his fingers, brown eyes alight in curiosity.
"Think it tastes like chicken livers?" he asked quietly.
"Huh?"
Al shrugged and set it down.
"Pa makes frog legs sometimes, and they taste like chicken meat," he said calmly. "Aren't you curious?"
Vinny shook his head, a simultaneous shiver running up his spine as his face flushed hot. Weird. But Al smirked at him.
"Yeah, you are," he teased. "You're blushing."
Vinny grimaced and said, "I- I'm just not that adventurous."
"That's not 'adventurous,'" said Al, nose crinkling cutely. "The eyes'd be adventurous. Like a mouthful of bubbles, I bet…"
"Al, that's gross!"
"Maybe I could eat your eyes some day."
Vinny snorted and covered his burning face. Not easy with one hand, especially not when Al pulled his wrist gently to examine his face again.
"Hey… You have blue eyes."
Said eyes snapped to meet Al's.
"You just noticed?" chuckled Vinny.
"Naw, I mean… the sclera." Al pulled on his cheek, widening one of his own eyes, then said, "Is that new?"
Vinny shrugged again. No, it wasn't new at all, but the feeling as though he'd just stuck his face inside a stove was.
"You're fun to play with, Vinny," laughed Alan, shoving his shoulder gently.
Vinny grinned back, relieved when the teacher passed by and examined their work.
"How far d'ya think his tongue can go?" Vinny whispered when she left again.
Al clicked the tweezers with another chuckle and pried the mouth open.
"Osteogenesis imperfecta," Alan said, leaning down to inspect the mud.
Vinny blinked, gaze snapping to his companion. Al's dark hair was secured up in a short tail, his bangs swishing freely as he scanned the ground. Vinny's grip tightened on the pail in his hands.
"What?" he asked.
Al straightened up and adjusted his glasses.
"Oh, I thought- With your arm and blue sclera… they're symptoms of—."
"Brittle bones. Never had someone recognize it before," Vinny admitted.
"So you do have it?"
Vinny nodded, saying, "I got diagnosed pretty early. Mom had it, too."
"Had?"
Vinny sighed. "Yeah… I don't really remember her. It's just been me and Dad for a while now. She slipped and… That's why Dad brought us south. Less ice."
"Yeah, that makes sense. Sorry about your ma, though. Got one!"
Alan pounced and somehow came back up out of the mud with a wriggling frog. His proud grin split his face like a jack-o-lantern, and Vinny found himself once again baking in the light coming off him. Vinny pried the lid off his bucket and held it out. Alan dropped the frog in before covering it again.
"How many did you want?" Vinny asked.
Alan hummed and said, "At least three, no more than seven."
Vinny nodded. Seven sounded like a lot to him, but he wasn't about to say no to Alan. Instead, he reached out to brush a clump of mud from his cheek. Alan froze under his fingers.
"Sorry!" Vinny said, retracting his hand.
His face burned from Alan's unrelenting gaze.
"Don't be sorry, cher. Three oughta be enough."
"You ever kissed a girl before?"
Vinny shook his head as Alan dumped his frogs into a tank.
"Me neither. It sounds… weird."
"Girls?"
"Nah, kissing!" Alan laughed. "I mean, I don't mind Ma giving me a kiss on the forehead, but… why touch mouths? And some people use their tongues?"
"I wouldn't mind," Vinny murmured.
"Kissing?"
Vinny shrugged. He couldn't keep the smile from creeping up his molten cheeks.
"Mim says she kissed a girl once," Alan said softly. "So it wouldn't be so crazy, right? If you wanted to kiss a boy."
"But you think kissing's weird," Vinny blurted.
Crap. Vinny shut his eyes and covered his mouth. Why did he say that? Alan would never hang out with him again after this. Vinny felt a hand on his wrist. Yep, this was it. Alan was about to ask him to leave. He let Alan pull his arm away. Then fingers tilted his chin up.
He opened his eyes just as Alan pressed their lips together.
Vinny froze. His first kiss. Alan pulled back and chewed on his lip, eyes on the ceiling in thought. Vinny only watched him, blood on fire and unable to breathe while he waited.
"Not as weird as I thought it'd be," Alan mused.
"I— Wait, I wasn't ready!"
Alan chuckled and sat on the bucket next to Vinny.
"No tongue," he said firmly.
Vinny grimaced. "Ew. No. No tongue. And… don't tell my dad."
"Mine either."
He cupped Alan's cheek and leaned in. Alan's lips were soft and wet from his nibbling. Suddenly, Alan grabbed his shoulders and pushed away from him. Vinny flinched at the wild thought racing through Alan's eyes.
"Too much?" whispered Vinny.
"N— Well… we said no tongue, but… can I bite you?"
Vinny nodded eagerly, then paused.
"Not… too hard, though. So Dad doesn't know."
"Right," Alan laughed. "Of course, mon cher."
Leaning forward again, Alan kissed the edge of his mouth first before moving fully to his lips. He tenderly pulled the bottom one with his teeth, gingerly kneading it like the swamp mud they'd dug through in search of frogs earlier. Vinny cupped the back of Alan's neck and sighed.
He couldn't be happier.
"Why did you call me your boyfriend?"
Vinny shoved his hands into his pockets. Alan kept his eyes trained on his newest subject, a young crocodile, peeling its skin away from muscles like removing a sticker from some fruit. He didn't need to look up, though. Vinny could taste the agitation in his words, harking back to the harsh glare he'd received when he'd said it.
"I just… We've been hiding out here for a year and a half now, cutting things open and making out," Vinny said quietly. "I thought, you know. We were."
"People talk, Vinny. If my pa finds out—."
"You can live with me! My dad doesn't mind."
Alan's eyes flicked towards him, and Vinny gulped. The absolute fury in those amber eyes could (and had) destroyed people. Vinny recalled a time when Cleo had earned that glare and opened her locker the next day to a live but legless rat covered in maggots.
"Sorry. Dumb idea," Vinny sputtered. "I— It won't happen again. Promise."
"I know." Alan set his knife down and leaned against the table. "I don't want to have to hurt you, cher."
Vinny repressed a shiver and nodded slowly instead. It wasn't fair, how stupid hot Alan made his face while he stayed entirely unperturbed. And, while Dad was accepting of his bisexuality, having the other 14-year-old in his house was… definitely not a good idea. Trying to explain the blood would be a different story. The shed was safe, away from Alan's house enough that his pained squeaks didn't reach any ears.
"But, you know," Alan said, pushing his glasses up with a smirk, "if you keep asking…"
"Please?"
"Tomorrow. Right now, you're grounded."
"Aw, grounded?"
Alan snickered. "Yeah. I'll take a look at my good work, though. If you want to show it off."
Vinny started pulling his tee off before the sentence ended. Several red and purple marks littered his chest and shoulders, blooming carnations crowned with the imprints of teeth. And Alan… Alan practically lit up in pride at the sight of them. His lithe fingers traced over the freshest print: a hickey he'd left on Vinny's collarbone only two days ago. Vinny dug his own teeth into his lip to keep from moaning at the sparks of pain it elicited.
"You look so pretty, cher. Like a little garden only I get to see."
"Only you," Vinny repeated. "I- Al, I think I love you."
Alan's grin widened as he shut his eyes and snickered.
"I know, pet. I know."