Archive of Our Own ^beta

I wanted to be with you alone

And talk about the weather

-"Head Over Heels," Tears For Fears

Love, I think and think and think and think and don’t say. Don’t say it.

Don’t say it. Don’t tell him you love him.

But I do. I love him more than anything.-I’ll Give You The Sun, Jandy Nelson

*

“Do you think he suspects anything?” Justin holds out the packet of chips again, their salt-greased fingers sliding against each other for a moment, sending a stirring of heat through his body to the roots of his hair.

“Who?” Andrew nicks another chip from the packet, pressing his hand further into the deep warmth of the packet against the slight chill of the evening air. It might be nearly summer, but English weather can always find a touch of cold.

“Doyle.” Justin feels a slight jump of heat as the back of Andrew’s hand brushes his, taking the weight of the packet.

“How could he?” Andrew pulls out another chip, then suddenly jabs it at Justin’s lips, making him jump. “Andrew!”

Andrew sniggers, enjoying the indignant pout creasing Justin’s mouth. “Just trying to fatten you up.”

Justin snatches the chip from him, failing to hide the huge grin making its way across his face even when he ducks his head forward. “You nearly made me drop them.”

Andrew glances about, then leans forward and slings his arm around Justin’s shoulders, in a way anyone else could see as casual. “But you didn’t.” He lets his hand linger against Justin’s neck, teasing one of his dark curls around his finger. “Did you?”

Justin wriggles against him, ducking his head as a grin creases his cheeks, blush deepening. “Do you actually want to eat these chips or not?”

Andrew gives him a quizzical look. “Mmm…“

Justin snatches another few chips with a grin. Andrew lets his hand fall to his arm, gives him a rough squeeze, so for a moment they can walk with their arms around each other.

“Why’d you think Doyle had seen us?” he asks, after a few moments of contented silence, punctuated only by the munching of chips.

Justin shrugs. “Don’t know. Just-thought he was looking at us a bit strangely today, that’s all.”

Andrew sniggers. “Think he was a bit too worried about his cows.”

Justin can’t help but giggle. A smile unfurls through Andrew’s whole body and he has to look away for a moment, chest aching with a wonderful, unbearable fondness.

Justin scratches his head, the tips of his fingers brushing Andrew’s. Andrew seizes the chance to squeeze them again, even briefly, their hands half-squeezing too.

They’re quiet again, a happy, peaceable sort of quiet, as they head towards the trees. Northam might not have a great selection of parks, but it does have some, and the one they’re ambling their way through now, interrupted only by a stop at the chippy, has what you could, if you tilted your head and squinted, call a small thicket of woods, under a sunset spilling across the sky like an egg yolk, rays straddling into the branches.

Once they reach the trees, Andrew passes the bag of chips to Justin and slides off his coat, throwing it onto the ground. Justin’s brow creases, even as Andrew sits down on the soft material, pulling his jumper tighter around him. “Won’t you be cold?”

Andrew shakes his head, though he is, slightly. “Not in a minute.” He gives Justin a small grin, blue eyes glinting with something that makes Justin look at his feet, cheeks erupting into a slow furnace of heat, unable to hide the stupidly huge grin he knows is twitching at the corners of his mouth. Awkwardly, he manages to hand Andrew the bag, spilling only a few chips into the creases of his coat, which Andrew snatches up with a grin as Justin sits down next to him, shrugging off his own.

“I thought you said it was cold.”

Justin shrugs. Andrew nudges him. Justin gives him a little smile, darting a quick glance at him out of the corner of his eye. Andrew gives him a gentle little punch on the arm and Justin half-shoves him, before he wriggles closer, until he can pull the edges of his own coat around them both, reaching across Andrew’s lap to do so, which conveniently presses their shoulders into each other, huddling into each other’s body heat. Here, pressed back almost against the tree trunk, they’re out of sight of the paths, hidden by branches, and, thanks to the slight hill, they can see anyone coming before anyone sees them.

Their eyes meet and then they both look away, grins tugging at the corners of their mouths. Justin presses a couple of chips into his mouth for something to do with his hands, but suddenly can’t quite taste them. He’s too aware of his heartbeat, glancing at Andrew again only to find him looking back.

It’s Andrew who looks around quickly, checking for any signs of passers-by, before he lets his hand wander across the rug, fingertips wandering over the back of Justin’s hand, sending skitters of warmth up his arm, before their fingers interlink, tightening in a small, secret grip.

“I liked doing this today.” Andrew’s voice is soft, and when Justin meets his gaze, he gives him a smaller, softer smile.

Justin just smiles back, nudges a little closer to him. Andrew’s fingers squeeze again, their joined hands resting between them. “Is this what you thought Doyle saw?”

Justin shrugs. “I don’t know. Perhaps. Just-I don’t suppose he’d think anything, anyway.”

Andrew snorts, squeezes his hand again. “He was too busy with whatever he’d nicked.”

Justin gives him a questioning look. Andrew laughs. “Did you not notice the size of his backpack when he got back on the coach?”

Justin shakes his head. “I wasn’t really looking at him.”

When Andrew looks up, Justin’s eyes are lingering on his face, flickering to his mouth in a way that sends a slow tide of heat rising through his body. The little smirk that creases Justin’s mouth then sends a slow, hot ripple through him, one that has him biting his lip, scanning their surroundings for any sign of movement. There isn’t any but glancing at Justin again, Andrew feels an odd surge of protectiveness, familiar now, but always a slight surprise in the way it knocks him off-balance, seized with the urge to pull Justin into his side, wrap him into his chest.

He does the next best thing, which is slide an arm around his back instead. His hand splays over Justin’s shoulder blades, which still jut out a little too much, rubbing his back in slow, warming circles. Justin’s eyes flicker, his head leaning against Andrew’s almost without noticing, dark locks tangling with blond.

“This OK?”

“Mmm. ‘S nice.”

“You can’t be tired.” Andrew’s lips almost but don’t quite brush his forehead. “You slept on me for two hours on the coach earlier. You’re lucky you didn’t have the window seat.”

Justin looks up at him, lashes dark against his pale skin. “Didn’t anyone notice?”

Andrew shakes his head. “No, everyone was asleep on each other.” His finger teases the corner of Justin’s mouth. “Not as good-looking as you, though. Or drooling as much, come to that.”

Justin throws a chip at him. Andrew tries to catch it in his mouth and falls sideways, nearly landing on the bag, causing Justin to squawk indignantly. Andrew chucks a chip back up at him, only for Justin to grab it and push it at his lips.

“Are you trying to force-feed me-“ Andrew scrabbles in the bag for another handful of chips and pushes them up, even as Justin splutters with laughter against his fingers, pushing more chips against his mouth. “You’re the one who needs fattening up-“

Justin half-falls on top of him, chip half-in and half-out of his mouth, and suddenly they’re both shaking with laughter, Justin half-across his chest, and Andrew sprawled across their coats, blond strands of hair mingling with the grass, Justin’s fingers coaxing the rest of the chip between his lips.

“Right. That’s-“ Andrew grabs another chip from the bag, props himself up on one elbow. “Open wide.”

Justin’s gaze holds his own, those dark eyes giving him the same delightful swoop in his stomach as a rollercoaster, but there’s something deeper too, an odd shiver of liquid warmth at the sight. When Justin parts his lips obediently, taking the chip, and Andrew’s thumb brushes his lower lip, there’s that shiver of heat again, and he feels Justin tremble suddenly too under his thumb, and for a second they each see their own expression on the other’s face.

The moment’s too heavy, too much, and they both look away, an embarrassed little giggle creeping out of Justin’s chest. Andrew glances at him, then away, then back again as they each dissolve into shared mirth, and he wriggles closer, their cheeks almost pressing together.

“We’re wasting these,” Justin mumbles, dragging another chip out of the bag. Andrew rests his cheek on his shoulder, content to leave things there for a moment, only to find himself suddenly being pushed back, hard, leaving him flat on his back with Justin half-straddling his chest, his cheeks flushed, dark eyes bright with glee.

“That’s cheating,” Andrew tells him, but he struggles to hear the words over the sudden hammering of his heart, a delicious sense of anticipation washing over him, like tilting over the edge of a cliff, leaning into something deliciously tempting and inevitable.

Justin gives him the same smirk he gives over his shoulder in class, a smirk that crinkles his eyes and sends Andrew’s stomach swooping. His dark eyes dart about, briefly, and Andrew’s do the same, his heartbeat skipping up and up. Justin’s eyes hold his for a single, breath-caught second.

Justin’s head darts down and then his mouth presses into Andrew’s once, his lips warm and soft and still tasting of salt. It’s a single, warm touch of their mouths together but when Justin pulls back, Andrew knows they’re seeing the same stupidly wide grin splitting each other’s faces.

Andrew shifts slightly underneath him, trying to ignore the slight thrill that ripples through him at Justin’s hands wrapped around his wrists, holding him still. “Do it again.”

Justin smirks, but then his eyes soften and one hand moves, cupping Andrew’s cheek. His thumb strokes under Andrew’s eye, sending a trail of heat through his skin, and Andrew closes his eyes, breathing deepening. His heart beats louder and louder, almost an ache.

Justin leans down and their mouths touch, soft and warm, again. And again. Sweet, small, warm presses of kisses, that send Justin’s heart skittering, a wonderful heat stirring to the tips of his fingers and the roots of his hair, his fingers twisting into the coat beneath him, until eventually, he gives in and lets his mouth open into Andrew’s on the next touch, fingers knotting into his blond hair, and then they’re kissing properly, tasting the warm insides of his mouth, the tips of their tongues touching, sending sparks sputtering through Justin’s chest.

Andrew’s hand slides up, round the back of Justin’s head, fingers stroking through his dark curls, sending a hot shiver down his spine. His own hand cups the back of Andrew’s head, fastening into golden hair and Andrew makes a low noise in his throat that sends a coil of heat through Justin’s body. His head tilts, mouth opening again and this time Andrew manages to roll him slightly sideways so that his arms can wrap around him, one hand splaying across Justin’s back again, stroking in slow circles. When he sucks tentatively at Justin’s bottom lip, Justin’s insides turn to melted chocolate, his body half slumping into Andrew’s. He hears a faint whine break free from his own throat and then his body jumps to life with an electric jolt of desire.

This is usually their cue to slow down, one usually breaking away to breathe deeply, willing away the wonderful, aching pressure urging them to touch more, let their hands slide under clothes, press against each other. It’s not something that’s out of reach, but it’s something hovering on the horizon-something that’ll arrive, but not yet. Like the summer holidays, or driving lessons. And, likely, in Andrew’s bedroom, with the door carefully blocked with a couple of old board games piled in front of it, not in the middle of a park, with only a few tree branches to hide them from the rest of the world.

Their mouths part, breathing ragged. Justin squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them again as their foreheads press together, Andrew’s eyes bright and blue on his. But instead of pulling back, Andrew slowly raises a hand to cup Justin’s cheek, his thumb tracing his cheekbone, and then tilts his mouth up into another, longer kiss, his tongue exploring Justin’s mouth slowly.

Desire uncurls, hot and heady, in the pit of his stomach and he makes a small, warning sound in the back of his throat. But Andrew just kisses him again, as slowly as before, and then, leaning up, brings his leg over Justin’s and raises his hips slightly, letting himself press gently against Justin’s thigh. Heat sweeps up Justin’s body in a dizzying wave.

“Andrew-“

Andrew kisses him again, soft, sweet, teasing his bottom lip and then Justin’s hips rock, slowly, back and forth into Andrew’s, and a low, blissful sound escapes from both their throats, as a slow aching wave of pleasure unrolls through them.

Their gazes lock, eyes wide and Justin swallows hard. “A-Andrew-“ His hand has knotted into Andrew’s jumper without knowing it, as though holding on to a lifejacket, and then Andrew’s hips press up slowly into his, hot and hard, and grind.

Pleasure splutters through Justin’s body, his thoughts spinning and Andrew’s name becomes a squeak in the back of his throat, his hands tight fists in the back of his jumper, forehead pressing into Andrew’s shoulder, heart pounding, terrified they won’t stop and terrified they will.

He freezes, feels Andrew still too, suddenly unsure. They’re still pressed against each other, Justin’s face half-buried in Andrew’s shoulder. Andrew’s hand finds its way to Justin’s hair again, teases curls between his fingers. “Are you-is that all-are you all right?”

Justin nods against his shoulder, taking deep breaths. His body aches with frustration, urging him to keep moving, keep going, but it just feels too much, or at least too much here. “I just-I-“

“It’s all right-“ Andrew moves back from him slightly, but keeps his fingers stroking through Justin’s hair. “Are you-I mean, are you all right, was that-“

Justin leans back, head spinning. “Yeah, I just-just let me-“ He breathes deeply, trying to will his arousal down, and rolls over onto his back, letting his hand slide down Andrew’s arm to take his hand instead. Andrew lets him, absent-mindedly stroking his fingers.

Justin shakes his head, breathing hard. “Sorry.”

“It’s OK.” Andrew glances around. “Pretty stupid of me anyway, given-you know-we’re here-sorry-“

“It’s-no, it’s-“ Justin shakes his head, drumming his fingers against Andrew’s leg. “I just-not here. And-“ He shrugs. “I don’t know. It just felt-big."

His eyes meet Andrew’s the second they both hear the word, and Justin cringes at the grin spreading across Andrew’s face. “Shut up.”

“I bet it felt big-”

“Oh, very funny.”

But Andrew’s already giggling, pulling him closer into a hug, even as Justin fights the grin wrestling with his own mouth, cursing the little giggles that splutter out into Andrew’s shoulder. Andrew presses a kiss to his forehead, then his nose, and then another kiss to his mouth, but they’re soft, sweet kisses now, little grins meeting between each one.

When they draw apart this time, Justin’s head settles on his shoulder, and Andrew draws the coats further around them. He glances down at Justin again, picks up another chip from the nearly discarded bag and pokes it at his mouth.

Justin lets him, giving him a roll of the eyes as he does so. Andrew bites his lip, wrestling with the easy joke that rises to his lips, and then decides against it. “I know what you meant, though” he says instead. “It-I know we haven’t-it was kind of stupid to try it in a park. Sorry.”

“No, it’s-it’s not that-“ Justin takes another chip, but doesn’t eat it, instead tapping it against his knee the same way he drums his fingers on his thighs or his pen against his desk in class. “It’s just-it feels-you know-more. More than-you know, we’ve-yet.”

Andrew ruffles his curls-he doesn’t mean to, but if he’s honest, he doesn’t see how anyone could not stroke their fingers through Justin’s hair. Justin sitting in front of him in class is like a torturous bliss for a lot of reasons, but one of them is that hair. Andrew’s lost more than a few minutes on class tests staring at the back of Justin’s head, picturing just how he’s going to wrap those dark curls around his fingers later. His eyes have flown open at night with one hand’s fingers flexing on the duvet, the other tangled in pyjama bottoms, hair damp against his forehead, sure that he was sinking his hand into those curls just a breath ago.

“We don’t have to do that,” he says, taking another chip himself. “We don’t have to-you know, do anything you don’t want to do.”

“It’s not that I-“ Justin sighs and finally pops the chip in his mouth. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just-it’s-“ He glances around, gesturing at the trees. “Not here.”

“OK.”

“And not-I mean-“ He shakes his head. “It’s not that-I can’t just decide on-when to do-“ He glances at Andrew. “Something-beforehand. I mean-I might-I don’t know-I might not be able to-I might not feel and I might not know until-“ He shakes his head. “I don’t know how to explain this.”

Andrew tucks one of Justin’s curls behind his ears absent-mindedly. “No, I know what you mean-well-I think-I think I do.” He squeezes Justin’s hand again. “You know, we don’t have to do anything. Anything you-we don’t want to do, I mean.”

Justin squeezes his hand back. He pops another chip in his mouth. “Do you-“ He hesitates, blush creeping up his neck. Andrew watches it, slightly distracted. Justin sighs, then turns to glance at him. “Do you think about that? You know. That.”

Andrew grins. “What?”

Justin gives him an impatient look and rolls his eyes. Andrew feels a slight pang of guilt but gives Justin a questioning tilt of the head.

Justin sighs, glances around, leans in, cups Andrew’s cheeks and brings their mouths together in a long kiss. Andrew’s smile grows against Justin’s mouth until they break apart, both flushed and breathless again.

Andrew smirks. “Oh. That.”

Justin’s grin is shy, and he shuffles slightly, biting his lip, blushing even deeper. “Yes, well-“

“Yes, well, what?” Andrew teases. He leans closer. “You’re blushing.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are-“

“No, I’m not-“

“Yes, you-“ They both break off as Andrew presses another chip into Justin’s mouth. “Ow, you nearly bit me.” He gives him a reproving tut and a gentle punch on the shoulder and Justin leans back, still blushing. He props himself up on his elbow, moving the packet of chips between them with another quick glance around, but they’re still alone, hidden by the branches. Andrew props himself up too, so they’re watching each other over the chips. “Vampire.”

Justin gives him the same smile he gave him the first day they spoke properly, and Andrew feels exactly the same way he did then. Standing in the playground, feeling suddenly alone together even though they were surrounded by people, Justin clutching his briefcase, staring at him like he’d just seen an angel. The words “Thanks, Andrew!” shimmering in the air, his little voice high and sweet, like the little smile breaking out over his mouth and it’s too sweet, too good. Like the sun’s just come out inside his chest, something so good that it’s almost too much. Back then, he’d turned away, caught in confusion at the sudden tumult of feeling from that smile, the strange warmth spreading through his own body, the confused clumsy urge to just put his arms around this boy’s shoulders, a shield between him and the rest of the world. Now, he just looks straight back at Justin, feels that feeling fizz and bubble in his chest, a bottle of champagne slowly, gloriously running over.

One look leads to another and it takes a happy confusion of mutual gazing before he remembers what Justin asked.

 “Er. Anyway. I mean-“ He takes another chip. “Yeah. Obviously, I think about-that. With you, I mean. Obviously.” Justin isn’t the only one blushing now. “But-I mean-we don’t have to do anything about it. Not until you, we-not until we want to.”

“I-“ Justin’s blushing deeper than ever, but he looks up at Andrew. “I do want to, but-sometimes-maybe-when it comes to it-“

“No, but that’s what I mean.” Andrew leans his head on his hand. If anyone was watching, they could be having any ordinary conversation over a packet of chips. “I mean, until you want to and-you know-don’t want to stop halfway through or anything. You know, we can-wait-until then. It’s not like there’s a rush or anything.”

Justin nods, takes a chip himself. His fingers tiptoe over the rug again, find Andrew’s. They both lean back, Justin visibly relaxing a little. Andrew brushes his thumb across his palm. “What about you?” he asks, teasing creeping into his voice again. “Do you think about that?”

Justin blushes again and looks away, making Andrew laugh.

Justin’s fingers tap out a rhythm on their coats, his thoughts roaming back suddenly to standing at a classroom door, turning with a sudden rush of new daring to stare over his shoulder while Andrew kicked off his trousers to rinse in the sink, the dizzying rush of gleeful heat the sight sent through him, the swooping sensation in his stomach, the sudden aching hardness between his legs making him look away, biting his lip, mind scrabbling for something, anything normal to talk about, fingers clutching the ends of his blazer sleeves, fighting the bizarre urge to giggle and turn his head to stare to his heart’s content. It’s a moment he’s replayed over and over in his head, lingering on that quick, snatched glance at the door much longer than he likes to admit to himself, during what become unusually long baths.

 His voice, when it comes, is an embarrassed mumble. “You know I do.”

The words melt something between Andrew’s ribs, and he nudges Justin’s palm with his finger, gives him a gentle punch to the shoulder. Justin glances at him, then away, a bit of a grin peeking out, and then throws a chip at him.

“Oi.” Andrew gives him a tut, shoves it in his mouth and then throws one back at him. Justin plunges his hand into the bag and throws several chips at once, Andrew chucking some of them back, Justin’s hands scrabbling at his, laughter shrieking out of them like they’re much younger children, until they both end up on their sides on their coats, cheeks aching, eyes shining, each seeing their own grin play with the other’s mouth. The city sunset casts a weak glow over their faces, softening their edges.

They gaze at each other, each almost looking away, but then keeping their eyes exploring each other’s faces. Andrew’s fingers find a dark curl of Justin’s hair, tucking it behind his ear. “You’re sweet when you’re embarrassed,” he admits.

Justin squirms. “’m not embarrassed.”

“You are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are-“

Justin stuffs a chip in his mouth to shut him up. Andrew laughs, but they’re lying on their sides now, more peaceably, each of them eating chips for a few minutes in a happy silence.

“Got any homework to do?” Andrew asks after a little while.

“Nope. You?”

Andrew shrugs. “Maybe some maths or something. Could probably get it done in form, to be honest.”

Justin gives him a sharp look. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately, haven’t you?”

Andrew looks away. “Well, you know how things have-you know how things are right now.”

Justin’s hand creeps across to his. Previously, Andrew would have folded his arms around himself, but now he lets Justin’s fingers stroke the back of his hand, interlink with his own. He wriggles closer to him without noticing, and Justin’s left hand takes Andrew’s, while his right arm falls around his shoulders, pulling him in to stroke his hair gently.

“When’d you last speak to Karen?” Justin’s voice is soft, tentative, and Andrew can’t resist the urge to turn his face into his shoulder and breathe in his warm, sweet scent.

“Few days ago. Monday, I think.”

“How is she?”

Andrew takes a long, laboured breath. “She’s-all right. But-she’s not here.” There’s only really so much all right Karen can be, when she’s being kept somewhere that isn’t her home.

Justin’s mouth brushes Andrew’s hair and Andrew can’t even bring himself to tell him to keep checking to make sure there’s nobody around. It feels safe and comforting and he lets his fingers knot into the bottom of Justin’s jumper, then squeeze his hand again.

Justin’s lips are warm against his temple for a brief, breathless second. “Is she coming home for summer?”

Andrew shrugs. “I don’t know. I think Mum and Dad are supposed to be talking about it, but-“ He shrugs again. “They were meant to be discussing it on the phone last night, but-you know what happens.”

Justin is quiet for a few moments, letting himself play with Andrew’s hair again. Andrew smiles, wryly. “Your fingers are so long,” he murmurs, interlinking his own with Justin’s. Justin gives him a smile back, and then Andrew shifts so that Justin’s head now rests on his shoulder. Justin glances about. “You’re sure no one can see?”

Andrew shrugs. “No one really comes up here.”

“It’s different in summer.”

“We’re not in summer. Not properly.”

“All the same.”

Andrew gives his head a pat, which makes Justin roll his eyes, but which he secretly enjoys more than he’d say. Justin nudges him. “We could always go and look at some swans by the lake.”

Andrew smirks. “Did you hear what that farmer was saying about them mating today?”

Justin nods. Suddenly, they can’t quite look at each other. They each look away, then back, then away again, cheeks aflame, ribcages wrestling with a blushing, confused happiness.

Andrew clears his throat a little too loudly. “Mum isn’t noticing half of what’s going on at the moment. I reckon we could stay in my room the entire holidays and she wouldn’t say anything.”

Justin raises an eyebrow. “I think mine might.”

“Tell her you’re living at school for the summer. Tell her revision kidnapped you.”

Andrew leans back and Justin follows him, so they’re lying on their backs again, side by side. Now, if anyone happens to pass by, they’ll just look like any two schoolboys, having any old conversation. You’d have to be standing over them to see their hands are joined, palms pressed together, a snug little pocket of warmth between them.

“Be careful,” Justin warns as Andrew takes another chip. “You’ll choke if you eat lying back.”

“Give me the kiss of life then.”

He gets another roll of the eyes.

“Mum did say you’re welcome to come on holiday again, by the way,” Justin adds, and Andrew glances at him. “Really?”

“Why really?”

Andrew shrugs, chews his lip. “Just-assumed she might not be as keen now.”

A small furrow appears between Justin’s eyebrows and Andrew longs to reach over and smooth it out with his finger. Or even better, kiss it away.

“Because of the-“ Justin clear his throat. “The-um-the-thing with the-the-at school, when you-got sent home-“ He shakes his head. “They don’t know anyway-I haven’t told them.”

“Not just that.” Andrew fiddles with the bag. “I mean, the divorce thing-you know, loads of people are acting like it’s contagious or something.” The words hang between them, heavier than he meant them to be, and they give each other an awkward glance.

Justin takes a chip, pulling it between his fingers. “It’s not like that.” When Andrew gives him a disbelieving look, he colours slightly. “I mean, with my parents. They haven’t said anything like that.”

“I mean, they don’t-they might not have said it. They might still mean it.”

“They don’t. I’d know, even if they didn’t say.”

Andrew weighs this up, but has to concede there’s some fairness to it. “You know, Mum said you can come away with us again,” he tells Justin instead. “To France. Though maybe it’ll just be us and Karen, you know, depending on-” He shrugs, squeezes Justin’s hand again. He turns it over and begins tracing lines on his palm, sending shivers of heat across Justin’s skin.

Andrew gives him a quick smirk, a glance under his eyelashes. “It’ll be like last time, though. Sharing a bed.”

Justin’s colour deepens. “We weren’t-last time, we-we weren’t-“

Andrew’s cheeks are tinged pink too, and they both look away, suddenly painfully scrabbling for a word for what they’re doing, a word that doesn't feel like an icy cold hand closing around their stomachs where it has no right to be, some secret, raw, flailing, newborn thing being dragged between their ribs out into the open air before it can even take a breath.

“I know, but-“ Andrew gives him a nudge. “It’s-no one knows, it’s-they’re not going to-“

He squeezes Justin’s hand again, at a loss for what else to say. He can’t make the words fit around how big this feeling is, this thing it sometimes feels is scrambling to climb out of his ribcage, swelling his heart until he can’t breathe. All he can do is squeeze Justin’s hand and hope desperately that it’s not just him.

Justin’s hand squeezes back, and on impulse, Andrew pulls him into his side. It’s just a hug, nothing more, apart from the way he tilts his head into Justin’s neck, breathing in the sweet, warm scent of his hair, but it brings the same flood of relief as falling out of icy, cold water into the solid embrace of a lifeboat. When Justin’s arms wrap around him in a sudden fierce hug of his own, Andrew relaxes completely, letting his head lie on his shoulder for a moment, hears Justin whisper something against his neck.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” When Justin pulls back, letting his head lie on Andrew’s shoulder, his cheeks are pinker than they were before, and there’s a slightly dreamy look in his eyes.

Andrew eyes him, debating whether to probe any further, but then Justin’s eyes meet his own and he gives him a sweet smile. It’s the same smile he gave him that day on the playground, the same little smile that stole over his face as he peered up at Andrew over the toy train in his bedroom, and left Andrew fumbling, unsure how to keep his gaze on Justin’s, that smile turning his heart to something soft and melting between his ribs. It’s a smile that leaves him absolutely incapable of anything approaching interrogation, and so instead, he just risks pressing a kiss to Justin’s forehead and cupping his cheek for a moment.

“Anyway, we’ll have to be careful,” he says, after a few minutes of happy quiet, stuffing another chip in his mouth. “That bed creaks.”

“Andrew!” Giggles splutter out of Justin’s chest and on impulse, he presses a kiss to Andrew’s cheek again. It’s a brush of lips against skin, but something about it leaves them both blushing, unable to quite look each other in the eye.

Justin leans back, letting his gaze drift up to the trees. There are far more leaves there than there were just a few weeks ago, bringing summer closer than ever.

“Do you ever think about what’ll happen?” he muses, popping another, now cooling, chip in his mouth.

“What’ll happen when?”

“Just generally, you know. In the future.”

Andrew snorts. “I don’t really know what’ll happen tomorrow, at the minute.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Andrew just squeezes his hand in response. After a moment, he leans over, sorting through the last few chips with his other hand. “Are you all right?”

“Mmm.” Justin nods, then leans back, that small crease between his eyebrows again. This time, Andrew gives in to the urge to lean in and smooth it with his finger.

Justin’s eyes flicker up to his and the gesture weakens his resolve. “I just-I don’t know. I suppose I just-“ He sighs and lies down, Andrew’s hand falling behind his head to stroke his hair inconspicuously. “Just, with options and exams and things. It’s making me think about the future a lot, that’s all.”

“Why?” Andrew brushes a curl of his hair back, presses another chip to his mouth gently until Justin rolls his eyes and lets him feed it to him. “It’s not like you need to worry about it. You’re the cleverest person I know.”

Justin’s cheeks colour again. “I don’t mean about that.”

“Not denying that, though.”

Justin throws another chip at him. “I just meant-generally. What’ll happen. You know, when we leave school, that kind of thing.”

“We’ve got a while yet.”

“I know.” Justin glances at him, opens his mouth, then closes it again. He drums his fingers, bites his lip again. “It just-“ He sighs, shrugs. “It’s a lot to think about, I suppose.”

Andrew looks at him, then shuffles closer. “You look worried.”

“I’m not worried.”

“You look it.”

“I’m not.”

 “You don’t need to be.”

Justin glances at him, then away again, biting his lip. Andrew reaches over and pokes another chip at his mouth. Justin chews it, but less enthusiastically.

Andrew sighs, props himself up to look down at Justin’s face. Quite a few words come to mind, but eventually he just says, “You don’t need to worry.”

“About what?”

Andrew raises an eyebrow and Justin blushes.

“About...anything.” Andrew pushes Justin’s hair back again. “Just-you know-let me worry about it all.”

“I think you’ve got enough to worry about.”

Andrew clicks his fingers. “There. Gone. Magic.”

Justin’s cheeks dent with his little smirk. Andrew hesitates for a half-breath, then darts his head down quickly to press another kiss to his mouth. One quick press of their mouths together becomes a longer kiss, then, with his hand creeping up to cup Justin’s cheek, another, even longer kiss, one that leaves Justin with the pleasant feeling of his insides melting into hot, liquid desire.

Andrew closes his eyes, resting their foreheads together, and biting his own lip for a second. “OK, here-“ He opens his eyes to meet Justin’s, then squeezes them shut again. “I just-ah-I just need a second-“

Justin bites his lip as Andrew takes a deep breath, marshalling as much self-control as he can, before he leans back slightly, lying on his side. Justin turns to face him, their eyes meeting, before they both dissolve into giggles, Justin’s arm falling over his forehead as he looks up at Andrew.

“Can’t get rid of me,” Andrew tells him, his voice softening around the words, and he feels Justin relax beneath his hand.

He takes him in again, aching with affection. “What’s that?” He touches the front of Justin’s striped shirt.

“What?” Justin glances down and Andrew brings his finger up to flick the tip of his nose, making Justin giggle.

He nestles into Andrew’s side, a knot that’s been nestled under his ribs without him knowing suddenly loosening, making him feel lighter. He turns his head to study Andrew’s profile. When they were younger, Justin used to steal hasty little glances at him across the aisle between their desks, snatching up little details each time to hoard in his chest to take out and examine later, in the privacy of his bedroom, smiling hard enough to hurt. Whenever sunlight shone in the right way through the classroom window, turning Andrew’s blond hair golden, something like a high note would ring through Justin’s chest, making him grip his pen tighter and turn his head back to stare at his desk, his cheeks burning and his heart beating wildly against his ribcage. When he’d chance a glance back, often, Andrew’s blue eyes would meet his and he’d give him a quick grin, cheeks dented with dimples, and Justin would feel a bubble of happiness swell and burst in his chest, leaving his thoughts giddy and reeling, so that he couldn’t have suppressed his answering smile even if he wanted to.

He stares up at Andrew and lets himself keep looking, taking in every detail. The slight childish chubbiness around his cheeks that had been there when they first met has narrowed a little now, his cheekbones higher and sharper, his white-blond hair darkened to golden in the soft muted glow of the sunset. Justin used to take him in in snatched little glances, each one a little shriek of glee in his chest. Now, he just stares greedily, almost dizzy at taking him in all at once.

One of Justin’s piano teachers used to show him a tuning fork. Whenever you’d hit it, it would ring with A note vibrations, that grew bigger and bigger until the whole fork was trembling with energy. That’s what it feels like now, looking at Andrew, like a high note growing bigger and bigger in his chest until his whole being is quivering with it, until he feels like if he opened his mouth, light and music and sound would pour out of his throat. It’s a smaller stream of the same flood of feeling he gets when they’re lying on Andrew’s bed, arms around each other, kissing so deeply he feels as though they could climb under each other’s skin.

“What?” Andrew asks, breaking him out of his reverie.

“You’re beautiful.”

The words surprise them both. Justin blushes scarlet, turning his face away, mortification curling his insides. Andrew’s hand touches the back of his neck, teasing the little curls of hair. “What?”

Justin shakes his head, wishing he could rip off his own mouth. “Nothing."

"No, what was that?"

"Sorry. ‘s stupid.”

Andrew presses his hand against his cheek, turning his face back. Justin squeezes his eyes shut, embarrassment a slow crawl of heat up his neck and jaw. “Justin.”

Justin groans, his cheeks burning. He can feel Andrew’s grin.

“Justinnnn.” Andrew’s voice is sing-song and then his fingers scrabble under Justin’s chin, coaxing out a sound far closer to a shriek than Justin would ever admit. He rolls over, wriggling furiously, but Andrew’s hands are under his chin, exploring his sides, mercilessly exploiting every ticklish spot that he knows, while Justin wriggles and squirms and giggles desperately, threaded with sounds that are far too close to squeals to admit.

Eventually, Andrew stops, looking down at him with a grin. Both of them are panting, gasping for breath. Andrew’s cheeks are flushed under his blond hair, and Justin feels his chest tighten, breath stolen, taking in cheekbones and blue eyes and hair and too much. Looking up at him almost hurts, in the best possible way.

Andrew traces his finger under his mouth. “Justin.” If anyone was watching, they could just look like two schoolboys wrestling.

“Please don’t make me say it again.” Justin’s voice is a mumble.

Andrew laughs. “Did you hate saying it that much?”

“No. I just-“ He shakes his head, the whole thing just too big to wrap words around. “It just….sounds-stupid, I don’t know-let me up-“

Andrew nudges his hand but leans back, letting Justin sit up, breathless, cheeks flushed, hair a mess. “Well. You know.” He suddenly can’t quite meet Justin’s eyes. “You are-you too-you know-"

“What, I'm stupid, you mean?”

Andrew gives him a gentle smack to the hand. Justin can’t quite look at him, but he manages to mumble, “Well, you should say it too.”

“Tell me what you were whispering earlier and I will.”

Justin furrows his brow.

“When you were-“

“Oh.” Justin blushes even deeper, surprised that’s even possible.

“Come on.”

“I don’t see why I should say if you won’t.”

A grin breaks out over Andrew’s face. “Are you six?”

Justin tries very, very hard not to grin. Andrew flicks the end of his nose again.

Justin curls up against him, scrabbling around in the chip packet for something to do with his hands.

“It’s not the sort of thing you say twice.” He intended the words to come out cooler, slightly aloof, but instead they’re small, soft, almost painfully tender.

He can’t meet Andrew’s gaze but he can feel it softening. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just presses his forehead against Justin’s hard and then drops a feather-light kiss on his mouth, so light it’s almost just a breath, then punches his arm fondly.

Andrew rolls over onto his back, giving Justin a chance to grin stupidly at his knees, before he pushes the packet back, leg nudging Justin’s hip. “Nearly finished these.”

“Mmm.” Justin sighs, glancing down at his watch.

“What time have you got to be back?”

Justin rolls his eyes. “Mum thinks I’m at a revision session.”

The note of petulance in his voice makes Andrew’s insides squirm in the best way possible. “Does she still give you a kiss goodnight?”

Justin throws one of the last chips from the bag at him. “It’s not funny.”

“It is a bit funny.”

Justin gives him a look that leaves him biting his lip, hopelessly fond. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Justin, if possible, intensifies the Look.

“Justin.” He gives him a quick punch in the arm, the pleasant squirming in his stomach making him unable to keep still. Justin’s fingers are drumming slightly again, and Andrew is seized by a sudden memory of being in class in second year, watching Justin’s fingers drum back and forth on the desk in front of him, noticing how soft the little curl of hair at the nape of his neck looked and suddenly being aware of that same swooping in his stomach, the way his mouth ached with wanting to smile, and then sitting there stock still, the thought frozen in his head, Don’t think that, don’t think that, don’t think that.

Then Justin had glanced over his shoulder and met his gaze with that same smile he’d given him that day on the playground and that thought had melted away, even as Andrew had felt himself beam back, a stupid, giddy happiness filling his chest, and he’d known, suddenly and without knowing how he knew, that no matter how loud that don’t think that had been, the high note of happiness that Justin’s smile played through his heartbeat was louder.

“You’re still coming round tomorrow?” Andrew asks suddenly.

“Perhaps you think I’ll still need my mum to give me a kiss goodnight.”

Andrew rolls his eyes. He leans forward, smile playing at his mouth, the same way he does whenever Justin’s trying to avoid his gaze. It feels weirdly like being tickled, when Andrew’s just said something he knows is ridiculous and Justin has to press his lips together unsuccessfully, spluttering laughter fighting its way out of his chest.

“Are you sulking now?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want a better kiss goodnight?” Andrew raises his eyebrows. “You know, for comparison's sake."

“No.”

Andrew tilts his chin up. “Sure?”

Justin fights very, very hard with himself.

Andrew strokes his mouth with the tip of one finger and Justin’s willpower crumbles.

“You’re so annoying,” he mutters instead, but then Andrew’s mouth is nuzzling his and Justin’s thoughts are softening, stretching into one another like melted toffee.

“Still sulking?” Andrew grins, a longer time later than Justin would like to admit.

“It’s under consideration.”

Andrew laughs, lying back again, screwing up the empty chip packet and throwing the last one to Justin. “We’d better get going. Before your mum tells you she thinks you need an early night tomorrow.”

He gets another punch in the arm, as they both sit up, Andrew yanking his coat up and around both their shoulders, dragging out the last few minutes.

“My mum’s out tomorrow night, by the way,” Andrew says, suddenly, with a quick glance at Justin.

Justin bites his lip. “Oh?”

“Mmm.” Andrew gives him a grin. “Work do.”

Justin glances at him, then away, then back at him. “Oh,” is all he manages, before he has to look away, knowing a goofily huge grin is spreading over his face.

Andrew gives him another nudge. Justin glances up at him, cheeks flaming. There’s a moment of silence before the two of them break into embarrassed sputters of laughter.

Andrew grabs his hand quickly, gives him a hasty press of a kiss on the cheek, before they both slowly get to their feet, Justin wriggling into his coat as he does so. “You’ve not got anything at lunchtime tomorrow?” he asks, screwing the packet up.

“No, have you?”

“Nope.” Andrew holds up the packet. “We could always get chips again. Find somewhere to eat them.”

Justin smirks. “Somewhere like an empty classroom, you mean?”

Andrew’s grin deepens. “Or a book cupboard.”

Justin punches his arm gently as they sit up. Andrew does the same, then they’re silent, watching each other, before Justin leans in this time and presses another quick kiss to his cheek.

“Can we sit like this?” he says suddenly.

 “I thought you needed to get home?”

Justin shakes his head. “I can wait five more minutes.”

Andrew studies his face for a long moment, but then nods. “All right.”

They settle down, backs of their hands brushing, fingers interlinked. Justin glances at him, then away.

“Andrew?”

“Mmm?”

“Thanks.”

“What for?”

Justin shrugs. “Just earlier, you know. With the whole-you know-“ He’s threading his fingers in and out of one another. “Future-thing.”

“Future thing?”

“Shut up.” Justin’s eyes are softer when he looks at him. “Thank you.”

Andrew shrugs, and squeezes his hand. “Um-“ He bites his lip. “So-I just wanted-I just-“ He takes a deep breath. “I just wanted to say-thanks.”

“I just said that.”

Andrew flicks the back of his hand. “No, I meant-with-you know-everything that’s been going on with-Mum and Dad and Karen and school and that.” He gives him a quick look out of the corner of his eye, cheeks somehow more flushed than when his tongue had been teasing Justin’s mouth a few minutes before. “Just-thank you.”

Justin’s eyes hold his, and his hand grasps Andrew’s again, fingers intertwining. But all he needs to say is, “Don’t be stupid.”

A grin flickers at the corner of Andrew’s mouth. “Very nice.”

Justin grins back as Andrew nudges his arm. He reaches over and drags the empty bag between them, keeping their fingers intertwined behind it, safely out of sight. Each of them is suddenly aware of their breathing and the tickling heat of their skin and the deep, audible beats of their hearts, like the toll of a bell, rolling louder and louder until the whole air hums with it.

A bird sings somewhere in the branches and the last orange rays of the sunset straddle their way across the sky. If anyone happened to be standing next to the trees, they’d just see two schoolboys sitting under a tree with a packet of chips, watching the last of the sun go down.

No one is standing there, and so, for now, nobody sees that, before the two of them pull themselves to their feet and amble back to the real world, grinning and whispering and going quietly, happily out of their minds with love, they’re looking not at the sun, but at each other.