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It was getting dark.
The wind lazily carried frost down the street.
Aeron wrapped his coat tighter around himself and pulled his scarf up over his nose. Though how much tighter could he really make it? At least he hadn’t left his hat at home. That would’ve been truly awful.
But where were they?
He looked around again, listlessly, shoving his hands under his armpits. His leg ached unbearably. Shit, why had he refused that pill? He hadn’t wanted to look weak in front of the doctor. As if she would’ve cared.
He sighed heavily, still clinging to the hope that they simply hadn’t forgotten him.
The driveway on this side was empty. Almost all the windows in the school building were already dark. Fuck. Even if they weren’t, he wouldn’t be able to get there anyway. He could barely hobble a metre and a half from the car to the bench. Shouting was pointless too - every window was tightly shut.
Fucking hell. Where were those damn cousins? They were supposed to pick him up already.
He heard slow footsteps.
For a split second, joy sparked in his chest - only to die just as quickly when he recognised the silhouette.
Aeron exhaled slowly, praying to all the gods that the guy would just walk past.
Of course he didn’t.
The footsteps came closer, and Davos plopped down on the bench beside him.
Fuck.
Same as always. Everything was already shitty, so naturally the day had to end with another stupid argument with Blackwood.
There would be one. There always was. Every fucking time.
Shit.
Aeron stared stubbornly at his boots. He didn’t turn, didn’t nod, didn’t acknowledge him at all. He just sat there. Still, he could feel Davos’ gaze on him. He always could - and it drove him insane.
“Fuck, that bitch really wants me dead.”
Davos, apparently, wasn’t paying him any attention.
Aeron exhaled slowly, trying not to draw notice to himself.
“I’m rushing home, dragging this fucking homework with me,” Davos grumbled, rolling up a notebook and trying to shove it into the inside pocket of his coat. “And she’s already gone, so I’ll have to bring this shit back after the holidays. Even though she already checked it and put a fucking mark on it!”
He waved a hand as if he wasn’t sitting half-undressed in the cold, as if this was all completely normal.
Aeron shuddered. Then again… maybe it was. He’d been sitting here for - how long, exactly?
“What time is it?” His voice came out hoarse, rougher than he intended.
Davos squinted at him, as if only now actually noticing him. His eyes swept over Aeron’s flushed cheeks, the way he was pressing his hands into his sides for warmth. Then he leaned forward, peering under the bench, clearly searching for Aeron’s backpack.
After that, he looked straight at him.
Damn it. Only Blackwood could stare like that.
“I don’t have my phone,” Aeron blurted out - why the hell was he even justifying himself? “My backpack’s with Raylon. They brought me back from the hospital, and there’s no one here. They said my cousins couldn’t come with me.”
He finally exhaled and buried his face in his hands.
“They were supposed to pick me up,” he muttered. “Fuck, I don’t have my keys, my phone, or any money. My uncle and aunt are visiting some friend in fucking Dorne. Even my grandfather’s gone somewhere.”
It sounded pathetic. Sitting there, whining about how miserable he was. And to whom?
Davos Blackwood.
“What’s wrong with your leg?”
“Bad bump. I won’t be able to walk properly for a few days. It hurts like hell.”
He tried rubbing his calf and grimaced.
Davos muttered something under his breath, stood up, finally shoved nitebook his pocket, and began fasten his coat.
Was he really going to leave him here? Just like that?
Aeron stared up at him, wide-eyed, already bracing himself to beg.
With one smooth motion, Davos leaned down in front of him, back turned.
“Climb.”
Aeron had been about to ask him to call Raylon - or Jonos - but the word was said in such a way that, a second later, he found himself clinging to Davos’ back.
Davos hooked his hands under Aeron’s legs, adjusting his grip to make it more comfortable, and stood up.
And then he just… walked. Calmly. Completely ignoring the fact that Aeron was hanging off his back.
“I’m heavy,” Aeron tried, clinging to the last scraps of his dignity.
“I carried Benji farther,” Davos shrugged, shifting his footing like this was the most normal thing in the world. “And he’s definitely heavier. Do they even feed you at Stone Hedge?”
Aeron sighed heavily somewhere near Davos’ neck and looked at the road ahead. Yes. They were absolutely heading towards the Blackwoods’ house. He knew these streets far too well.
A flicker of panic rose in his chest.
Why had he agreed to this? Not that he’d been given much of a choice.
Another thought followed immediately, sharper and worse: no one knew where he was being taken. He was about to end up alone in the Blackwood nest. With Davos. And probably Benji. Maybe even Willem.
Oh fuck.
“Your kin won’t mind you bringing me?” he asked, trying to sound brave.
“Benji dragged home a cat,” Davos said flatly. “I dragged you. Who the fuck cares.”
“But it’s Christmas Eve - ”
“Gods, Bracken!” Davos laughed.
“What?” Aeron genuinely didn’t understand.
“We follow the Old Gods,” Davos said, the pace not slowing, the weight on his back not bothering him in the slightest. “Did you forget?”
“So you don’t celebrate Christmas at all?” Aeron asked, curiosity slipping past his nerves. “Even if it’s a day off?”
“Nah. We celebrate New Year instead.” He slowed at the crossroads, waiting for the light to change. A few passers-by glanced at them but quickly looked away, which was… good. “Besides, you lot stole the Christmas tree and half your traditions from us anyway.”
He hitched Aeron higher when he started sliding down.
“So what’s your main religious holiday?” Aeron tried to remember - something with the Old Gods - but came up blank.
Davos giggled. “The Queen’s name day, obviously.”
Aeron groaned. Of course. Blackwoods and their obsession with Queen Rhaenyra.
“You know,” Davos added casually, “if carving a queen statue and praying to it wasn’t considered gross, Uncle Willem would’ve been doing it for years already.”
Aeron couldn’t suppress the smile that crept up on him.
Or the quiet laugh that followed.
It was… the last time they’d talked like this was… never.
Yes, Aeron knew Blackwood could be almost normal sometimes. He wasn’t blind or deaf; they’d been in the same class for years. He’d seen it, heard it, watched Davos joke and laugh with others. Just never with him. It was always mocking, arguing and bickering. As proper Bracken-Blackwood ancient feid ordered.
The familiar flicker of something strange stirred in his chest at the thought, and he pushed it aside. Like he always did.
He wanted to say something. Something that would sound like a joke - but then his leg -
Pain slammed into him without warning. The leg that had been aching all this time suddenly seized up, muscles cramping hard.
Aeron groaned, his fingers tightening instinctively in Davos’ coat. Another sharp wave followed, and he nearly slipped.
Davos caught him at the last second.
The pain blurred everything. Aeron barely registered it as he clung to Davos, breath hitching, a sob tearing itself free before he could stop it.
It was stupid. Completely stupid.
If he’d been in his right mind, he never would’ve done this. Not like this.
Not with Davos.
“Aeron - is it broken? Did I grab it too hard?” Davos was panicking.
Aeron tried to mumble “cramp,” but he wasn’t sure the word even came out properly.
It felt like an eternity, though in reality it lasted barely fifteen seconds. The cramp finally loosened its grip, leaving behind a dull, throbbing ache. Aeron breathed heavily somewhere against Davos’ neck. Davos’ arms were wrapped firmly around him, steady and sure.
It was warm. Comfortable.
Aeron forced himself to breathe slowly, with no desire at all to pull away.
Just a moment.
“Better?”
Aeron jerked back in sudden panic.
What the fuck was he doing?
His leg buckled and he nearly went down, but Davos tightened his hold, rolling his eyes.
“Fuck, Bracken. How have you not managed to kill yourself yet?”
“Sorry, I - I just…” Aeron trailed off, staring at the ground, face burning with embarrassment.
And as if the day hadn’t done enough to humiliate him already, his stomach growled.
Loudly.
Very loudly.
Aeron froze.
Yes - this would’ve been a good moment. A perfect opening for Davos to finally become himself. To really look at him. To say something usial.
But he didn’t.
Davos just sighed heavily. He adjusted Aeron’s scarf, careful and quiet, then turned his back again.
“Hold on a little longer,” he said. “We’re almost there.”
The house greeted them with dim lights and shoes scattered across the corridor - one pair nearly sending Davos stumbling.
“Benji!” he roared, helping Aeron sit down on a small - something. Aeron had no idea what it was called, but he sat with a relieved sigh, stretching out his aching leg.
He stayed there, breathing slowly, while Davos shed his own coat and boots and then disappeared deeper into the house at a jog.
Aeron glanced around awkwardly, unsure what he was supposed to do. Well. He could at least start with something normal. He pulled off his hat and scarf, then managed to shrug out of his coat.
The shoes were next.
The left one came off easily. The right - his injured foot - was another matter. He hesitated, afraid to even touch it.
Davos’ return felt like an answer to his silent struggle.
He set a pair of crutches down beside him.
Aeron stared at them. “Do you just… have these at home?”
“Well, what don’t you have?” Davos replied, sounding genuinely confused as he sat down in front of him.
Aeron opened his mouth to respond - and then promptly forgot how to speak.
Davos was untying his boot.
Long fingers worked carefully at the laces. His palm slid down Aeron’s shin, steady and warm, before he gently - very gently - pulled the shoe free.
Aeron swallowed.
It was… gods, it was too much. For a brief, ridiculous moment, he felt like a character out of a fairy tale.
Davos, entirely unbothered, rolled up the trouser leg a little and examined the injury. His fingers traced the skin. Carefully. Gently. Not Blackwood-like at all.
Aeron had no idea how to react.
This was definitely not on his Christmas list this year.
“Gods, Davos, did you break his leg?” Benji appeared out of nowhere, nearly making Aeron jump.
“Oh! Aeron, weren’t you at the party?” Alysanne’s head popped out from behind Benjicot.
“Party? What party?” Aeron asked, confused.
“What do you mean, what party?” she said. “Your cousins posted a selfie - Oscar’s place. Everyone looks very excited.”
“And very drunk,” Benji added helpfully.
Fuck. A party.
So that was where they were.
When would they have remembered about him? After an hour? Two? When he’d frozen to death in that fucking school parking lot?
Aeron drew in a slow breath, then let it out carefully, trying not to - trying not to spiral.
The other two Blackwoods exchanged puzzled looks.
“Thank you,” Aeron said softly, grabbing Davos’ sleeve when the boy started to rise.
He didn’t look up. He probably should have.
Davos didn’t answer. He just covered Aeron’s hand with his own for a brief moment, warm and steady, before moving away.
They ended up in the kitchen.
With Benji’s help, Aeron managed the crutches. There were no adults home - something that, knowing the Blackwoods, should have meant chaos. Instead, everything was strangely calm. Comfortable, even.
Aeron felt a little out of place. A sudden guest, injured, hungry - exactly the sort of inconvenience people complained about. But no one complained. He was handed a plate like everyone else. Then another helping. Only then did he realise how starving he was.
He ate, grateful, quiet.
By the time he leaned back in his chair, the pill had dulled the pain in his leg to a distant ache. He was warm. Full. Almost happy. His eyelids drooped as he rubbed at them sleepily, the only remaining problem being where he was supposed to sleep.
“Davos,” Alysanne yawned, stretching. “Is Aeron sleeping with you tonight?”
“Definitely not.”
Davos’ answer was sharp. His jaw clenched as he stared down into his mug.
“Why?” Benji asked, genuinely puzzled. “You’ve got a big bed. And he might need help with his leg.”
“No.”
Now everyone was staring at him. Even Aeron.
“Fuck it,” Davos snapped suddenly. “I was courting him, and he turned me down. It’s just - I don’t - ”
“What?”
The word tore out of Aeron before he could stop it.
He pushed himself up a little, eyes locked on Davos, heat rushing through him. “You did what?”
“I - ” Davos flushed bright red. “Courted. You.”
“You were mocking me!”
“What?” Now it was Davos’ turn to bark. “I wasn’t!”
“You made fun of my hair! You called me names! You idiot - you called me a princess nonstop!”
Benji and Alysanne exchanged excited glances.
“I was not mocking you!” Davos shot back. “Those were compliments!”
Aeron’s jaw clenched. He raised a hand, then slowly lowered it, forcing himself to breathe.
“I’m not a girl,” he hissed, his voice low as he sank back into his chair. “And I won’t even mention how you nearly knocked out my eye with that apple. That was probably an accident. Probably.”
“It was,” Davos said quickly. The guilt in his voice didn’t help his case.
“Two weeks ago. Friday,” Aeron pressed. His gaze stayed locked on Davos’, refusing to miss a single reaction. “What the fuck was that?”
Davos swallowed. Then he blushed. Then he started fidgeting in his chair.
“Davos…”
“I tried to ask you out!”
Aeron stared at him in disbelief. Then he covered his face with his hands and groaned.
Davos started to mumble something apologetic, but Aeron cut him off with a raised hand. He took a deep breath, fighting the very real urge to hit Davos with a crutch.
“How,” he asked tightly, “did you even come up with all of that?”
“Well,” Davos muttered, staring at the table, visibly mortified, “I asked uncle Willem for advice. And then I followed the plan.”
“Oh no,” Alysanne said softly, breaking the tension. She tapped Aeron gently on the shoulder, then turned to Davos. “When you talked to Willem about advice - did you mention that your crush was a boy?”
Davos blinked. “…Should I have?”
“Oh my gods,” Benji wheezed, laughing so hard tears spilled from his eyes. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
Aeron didn’t understand how Alysanne had managed it, but somehow she’d stopped the tension from rising any further. She’d casually separated Davos from him, and now they weren’t snapping at each other - even though they were all together in the living room.
The lights were off. Some horror movie about a zombie dragon invasion played quietly on the screen.
Aeron didn’t usually watch things like that and had never understood how anyone could enjoy them, but he found himself unexpectedly captivated. With Benji and Aly’s caustic commentary, it was even… fun.
It felt strange.
Spending Christmas Eve without a tree, without decorations, without family. Sitting on a couch under a ridiculous horror movie, surrounded by Blackwoods.
He stubbornly pushed other thoughts away.
The fact that Davos liked him. The fact that all of this - all of it - had been some painfully misguided attempt at flirting.
He didn’t know what to do with that. How to react. Or whether Davos even wanted to try again.
So he shoved it all aside.
He’d think about it later. Or maybe he wouldn’t.
On the screen, a tall, black-haired hero carried an injured, long-haired Targaryen princess in his arms.
Aeron sighed heavily, pointedly ignoring the side-glances from the Blackwoods.
He stared at the ceiling. Sleep refused to come.
He hadn’t even turned off the lamp beside the bed. They’d given him a pillow, a blanket, and someone’s T-shirt. Made him comfortable. Wished him good night. The crutches were within reach. One more pill to help him sleep.
Everything should have been fine.
It wasn’t.
The thoughts started tormenting him the moment he was left alone.
And he didn’t even have his phone to distract himself. He didn’t want to turn on the TV. He didn’t want to wake the others just because he couldn’t sleep. So he lay there, staring at the ceiling, his chest heavy.
Footsteps.
Aeron pushed himself up on one elbow just as Davos froze in the doorway.
“Are you awake?” Davos asked, briefly hiding something behind his back - so quickly Aeron didn’t quite catch what it was.
“Can’t sleep,” Aeron said. Same awkward answer as before.
“I - ”
They spoke at the same time.
“I’m sorry,” Aeron managed first.
“What?” Davos looked genuinely confused. “It’s not your fault you hurt your leg.”
Aeron slowly sat up. “I… I don’t mean that.” He sighed heavily, searching for the right words. “Please forgive me. You - you were trying to…. And my reactions were… gods. It must’ve been awful.”
Davos just stared at him.
“Fuck,” Aeron added weakly, “if you say it was all a fucking joke, I swear I’ll shove these crutches up your arse.”
Davos snorted, then giggled. “Well, I doubt you’d succeed.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Benji and Aly kind of… forced me to spill everything. And, well. I’m the one who should apologise. I’m an idiot.”
He crossed the room quickly and held something out.
“Merry Christmas.”
Aeron blinked. “Is that… for me?”
The toy dragon was yellow and ridiculously soft. Aeron hugged it without thinking, warmth spreading through his chest. A smile tugged at his lips.
“Thank you.”
“If you don’t like it - ” Davos started, already panicking.
“I like it,” Aeron said quickly. “It’s cute. This part of the plan was good.” He giggled.
Davos burst out laughing. “I was supposed to buy a pink Labubu.”
“Oh fuck,” Aeron said, joining in, laughter spilling out of him.
Aeron woke to the sound of someone’s not quiet amusement.
Davos had fled almost immediately after giving him the gift, and Aeron had fallen asleep just as quickly, still hugging the toy.
Willem Blackwood stood in the doorway. His wild eyes flicked between Aeron and the crutches.
“Fuck,” he said. “Just - don’t tell me one of mine broke your leg and dragged you here.”
“No,” Aeron replied, pushing himself up slowly. “They helped me not freeze to death outside. My cousins forgot to pick me up. I didn’t have my keys or my phone.”
Willem’s eyes narrowed, suspicious - then his gaze dropped.
To the toy dragon clutched against Aeron’s chest.
Realisation hit him like a carriage.
“Fuck,” he muttered, rubbing his face tiredly. “I raised an idiot.”
With that, he turned and trudged off down the hall.
Aeron lay back down, a small smile tugging at his lips. The dragon settled comfortably under his arm.
They found him sometime after lunch.
His cousins had slept in after the party, then decided to visit him at the hospital. One of them - none of them could remember who - was convinced his leg was broken and that he’d be stuck there overnight at least.
So, like good brothers, they charged his phone, grabbed some juice and oranges, and went to see him. It was a sacrifice, especially on a holiday, but family had to stick together.
Aeron was not in the hospital.
He hadn’t spent the night there.
Panic - and then realisation - hit them slowly.
Willem Blackwood was very satisfied.
He criticised Amos’s parenting skills over the phone. Then he scolded Aeron’s cousins. And, best of all, no one could argue with him - because he was right.
He graciously lent Aeron that pair of crutches. There were three more in the storeroom, but the Brackens didn’t need to know that. Let them feel guilty. Let them feel obligated.
Aeron stood near the car, chewing on his lip. He glanced quickly at Davos.
He couldn’t just leave like this. Not now.
Fuck. Just do something.
He hopped over on his crutches, caught Davos’ eye.
“If you still want to,” he blurted out, words tumbling over each other, “you can do it again.”
“Do what?” Davos asked, looking at him. That - the look made Aeron’s heart race.
Aeron’s fingers slipped into Davos’ hair. He leaned in, lips brushing his in a soft, tentative kiss - warm, promising.
“Ask me out.”