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Lex, the blonde wreck of a photographer, was pacing around in circles again in the living room of Marlinspike Hall. He feared he had made a mistake. A horrible, horrible mistake.
Although the day had started off like any other, Lex had, for once, managed to find himself alone with the ginger-haired journalist, who had caught him in the middle of his nervous bout after Haddock and Calculus had left the house for whatever daily escapades they were getting up to. Luck was not on his side that day.
There was no way to skirt around it; he was madly in love with his best friend. He felt like the biggest idiot on the entire planet. Of course this would happen. This was the exact reason he pushed people away. This was why he always cut people off before they got too close. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He repeated that to himself over and over again in his head, wanting nothing more than to disappear off the face of the Earth. It felt especially horrible with Tintin–he had been so kind, he’d taken him under his wing after he got kicked out of his previous apartment, he let him live with him… it was supposed to be temporary, at first, but of course, he ended up staying. The two slept in the same bed and never thought anything of it, for crying out loud. Well… okay, Lex did. But he was sure Tintin didn’t, and that he was a disgusting freak for letting his thoughts wander like that. He was betraying his trust. He’d immediately felt such a strong connection to Tintin when they’d first met, only to poison it like this. He fought off all the thoughts he’d ever had of Tintin being his soulmate. No, no, no!
Naturally, Tintin, being the inquisitive fellow that he was, had asked him what the matter was upon seeing the state he was in. He refused to budge despite persistent attempts at getting him to open up. Tintin, however, was stubborn. Especially when it came to Lex. After having spent countless days–and nights, for that matter–of his life with him, he’d learned to read him like a book. He couldn’t hide anything from the reporter–the two were practically joined together at the hip.
So of course, eventually, there was nothing to do but fess up.
“...I’m moving back home,” Lex finally uttered, an uncertain frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. The admission had come out of nowhere, causing Tintin to blink in surprise as he wondered if he’d just heard him right.
“What?”
Silence. Eerie silence. That was not the reaction Lex had expected from the calm, level-headed reporter. He had thought he would have been… a bit confused, perhaps, but that was that. He certainly had not expected the sheer shock on his face–Tintin was normally fairly mellow. As he continued to pace back and forth nervously, he bit his fingernails trying to attempt to figure out how in the world he was ever going to explain his way out of this one.
“Look, Tintin–I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. But I can’t stay here. I’ll ruin everything. I don’t want to hurt you.”
This was… vague enough, Lex thought. Yet another period of eerie silence–as if Tintin wanted to draw out the tension. And it sure was working–the air was growing more and more uncomfortable with every second that passed.
“...Then why are you doing this to me?”
Hm.
Once again, not an expected reaction.
“This isn’t about you,” Lex frowned, his eyebrows furrowed. “I have to leave. I knew this was a bad idea.”
“What was a bad idea? Telling me? Perhaps you had in mind to pack your bags and leave without a word?” Tintin huffed, raising his voice in frustration. Lex had rarely seen Tintin get this worked up, this quickly, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t incredibly intimidated. Scared? No, he knew Tintin would never hurt him. Unnerved? Certainly. Nevertheless, he retorted, his emotions getting the better of him.
“Maybe I should have, since it seems you’d blow a fuse either way.”
Tintin’s eyes widened in disbelief, anger slowly beginning to boil up inside him. “Blow a fuse–who do you take me for?!” he protested, stepping closer as he fought to stay calm. “Did you expect me to not care that my best friend suddenly wanted out of my life without a word?”
Lex groaned, stopping and turning around to face his conversation partner. “I was hoping so! And don’t call me your best friend. You’ll forget me! Everyone always does! That’s what I’m counting on!”
With a scoff, Tintin crossed his arms as he grew more and more frustrated. “You can’t just throw me away like garbage once you grow bored of me. You need to tell me what’s wrong!”
Regrettably, he couldn’t help but add an additional remark–something he quickly realized he felt absolutely horrible about once he heard it come out of his mouth. “Stop running away from everything. That’s all you ever do!”
Had this home been his own, Lex would have punched the wall out of frustration. Technically, however, it belonged to the Captain, and so he figured it was probably best to not cause any potential structural damage. “And you never know when to quit!” he sneered, his finger pointed directly at Tintin’s face to emphasize his point. “You think I’m bored of you? You think I want this? I don’t want to throw you away. But I have to!”
It was rare to see the normally collected reporter with a genuine scowl on his face, but for once, he felt his patience begin to run thin. “You aren’t making any sense! Why won’t you talk to me?!”
“Because you’ll hate me!” Lex yelled, his voice raised–something normally unheard of coming from such a quiet person as him. “Why won’t you understand?!”
“Understand what?! You need to talk to me! Why on Earth would I hate you?!”
“Because I love you!”
The eerie silence made its return, the air in the room thickening with tension.
Tintin didn’t know what to say. His entire face was red, and he wasn’t sure if it was from all the yelling or from how flustered he was.
Lex clenched his fists together, biting his lip and taking a deep breath.
“I love you,” he repeated, trying to steady himself, “and you don’t love me back. And I can’t live like that. I just can’t, okay? It hurts. It hurts so much.”
Still no response from Tintin, who looked dumbfounded with his mouth agape and his index finger raised into the air as if he wanted to ask a question. He himself, however, had no idea what question he even wanted to ask.
“So fine. You’re right. I’m going to run. Like I always do.”
Lex couldn’t take it anymore, and he rushed past the bewildered Tintin, storming out of the manor and running off to the meadows.
At long last, after a good minute or so of no visible reaction, the journalist blinked and got himself back down to Earth, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “W–Wait, Lex!”
He ran. He wasn’t sure where he was running. For whatever reason, he had a feeling his intuition wouldn’t lead him astray; and right he was, as he approached the subtle sound of crying coming from under one of the oak trees.
He slowed down, catching his breath and swallowing a lump in his throat–sure enough, the source of the crying came from a distraught Lex who had his head buried in his knees.
“...Lex,” Tintin softly panted, taking a deep breath as he sat down in the damp grass next to his friend. He put his hand on his shoulder, but his gesture of comfort was quickly rejected as Lex flinched and moved his shoulder away.
“Don’t touch me,” Lex sniffled, his voice cracking. “Leave me alone. I’m already too attached as is.”
“Lex… oh, Lex,” Tintin sighed, once again placing his hand on Lex’s shoulder. This time, he wasn’t pushed away, and his expression softened as he turned to look at him. Through soft sobs, he heard Lex quietly spoke up.
“Aren’t you ashamed? To be friends with such a deviant and pervert?”
“You are not a deviant, and you certainly are no pervert,” Tintin spoke firmly, squeezing Lex’s shoulder. “Some of us are… born a little different than others. That doesn’t make you a bad person, nor does it make you immoral. Who, exactly, are you harming?”
“Come on… don’t use that rhetoric on me,” Lex silently grumbled, his eyes darting away again as he dried the tears running down his cheek with his sleeve. “The devout Catholic consoles the queer. There’s a title for a theater play if I’ve ever heard one.”
“Lex, I need you to listen to me,” Tintin spoke, placing his free hand on the side of Lex’s head and turning it around so the two could make eye contact. “There’s… there’s nothing wrong with being… well. You know.”
“Say it,” Lex prodded, still quietly sniffling, though he felt his anger and frustration slowly return. “Nothing wrong with being a what, Tintin? A fudgepacker? A backgammon player? A faggot, maybe? A cocksucker–”
“Would you quit with the vulgarity!” Tintin interrupted, covering his increasingly reddened face with his hand. “I’m trying to tell you–it’s fine!”
“You say that, but you don’t know what it’s like to live this way! I feel like my very existence is a crime! It’s torture, Tintin!”
“I know it is!” Tintin spluttered, almost certain that his heart would stop at any moment now. Lex was taken aback, raising an eyebrow before Tintin began to ramble on.
“I know it’s torture! I’ve prayed every single night for a miracle! I’ve gone to confession! I’ve begged pastors and priests to do something–anything–to fix me! So yes! I know what it’s like! You call yourself a deviant and a pervert? Then so am I!”
Lex’s mouth was agape, his face covered in every single possible shade of red. For a good minute or so, both of them were completely silent, just staring at each other unsure of what to say–both equally as flabbergasted; Tintin at having just admitted to all of that, and Lex at Tintin having just admitted to all of that.
Tintin himself was sweating bullets, his chest heaving rapidly. His mouth felt dry and every time he thought of something to say it vanished as soon as he opened his mouth to speak. He honest-to-God thought about getting up and running away just as Lex did earlier, but he was stopped before he got a chance to contemplate anything by a quiet mutter.
“You, too?”
Tintin felt all of his features soften at the sound of Lex’s voice, and for just a moment, his breathing returned to normal. In spite of this, the word yes physically would not form in his mouth, so he resorted to a meek nod.
Lex gulped, his gaze drifting down to Tintin’s hand that had somehow ended up on top of his own amidst all this. He recalled all the times he wanted to reach out and hold it, all the times he wanted to grab it and stroke it with his thumb. He didn’t even notice he was shaking until Tintin looked at him with concern in his eyes.
“Lex?”
Lex’s gaze snapped up to meet Tintin’s, his mouth dry and his heart racing. With a deep breath, he managed to stutter out a response.
“All this time,” he began to whisper, barely audible. “I’ve been hiding myself away from you all this time, and now you’re telling me… are you kidding?”
Tintin felt guilt rush over him, but it was quickly forgotten as he heard Lex begin to chuckle. It started out soft; timid and quiet, before bellowing into full-blown loud, hearty laughter. Though initially confused, his friend’s joy was contagious, and he soon found himself joining in, unable to stop the grin that was forming on his face.
They stayed like that for a while–any onlooker would think them crazy, but they didn’t care. Right now, it was as though they were the only two people in the entire world. Nothing else mattered.
Once quietness began to fill the air around them once again–comfortable, this time, not thickening or eerie–they both looked at each other, smiles plastered on their faces.
“I guess I feel pretty stupid now,” Lex chuckled, rubbing the back of his head as he recalled his behaviour from earlier. “Um… sorry about that whole thing. You… you must know what it’s like, right? The fear of getting too attached.”
“Of course,” Tintin mumbled, his thumb gingerly brushing against Lex’s cheek. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to get so cross. I was just so afraid of losing you, I…”
“I don’t know how I would have lived without you, Tintin,” Lex mouthed, his heart racing as Tintin’s face inched closer and closer; the gap between them grew smaller for every second until their noses were touching. “I don’t know what I was thinking…”
One little movement was all it would take.
“...Please,” Lex breathed, almost inaudibly, his eyes darting between Tintin’s eyes and his lips. “Kiss me, please.”
Tintin didn’t need to be told twice.
As he slowly leaned forward and gently tilted his head, their lips finally connected, both of them closing their eyes to focus on the sensation. Oh, how they’d both longed for that warm feeling. The kiss was soft and chasté; neither of them had had any experience with this before, but that didn’t deter them from trying. Both of Tintin’s hands were brought up to Lex’s cheeks, softly caressing him with his thumbs. For just a moment, the outside world disappeared. When they had to pull apart for air, Lex was quick to lean back in–to the surprise of Tintin, though not that he minded. They went on like that for a few minutes, sharing light pecks with one another, before Tintin gasped as he felt Lex’s tongue shyly prodding at his teeth for access. With that, he pulled away, coughing and clearing his throat.
“Okay… let’s not get carried away,” he managed to mumble, awkwardly brushing off his shirt and fixing his collar. Lex just giggled, muttering an apology as he fidgeted with his fingers. “I, uh… hm.”
Tintin stood up from the ground, reaching out his hand to help pull Lex up as well, who intertwined their fingers together with a smile on his face as he began to speak.
“Seriously… sorry about earlier. And sorry for telling you not to call me your best friend… that was harsh.”
“I believe we may have already crossed that line either way,” Tintin laughed shyly, his face flushed with every shade of red imaginable. “Not quite how I expected this day to go, but… I’m pleasantly surprised.”
“We should do that again sometime…”
“Yes?” Tintin snickered as the two began walking back to Marlinspike hand in hand. “Would you like that?”
“Yeah. And next time, let me do my thing.”
“Don’t get any ideas…” Tintin smirked, playfully rolling his eyes as Lex leaned his head against his shoulder, unable to stop a soft laughter from escaping him.
First thing’s first: they had a flight ticket to cancel.