Work Text:
I.
Rust was sitting on Cole’s bed with his legs crossed. Cole sat opposite him in a chair leaning against the wall. They’d been studying but it had devolved into throwing crumbled up notebook pages at each other and Rust listening to Cole gossip.
Cole let the legs of his chair slam down to the floor when he heard his name being called. His dad’s voice was getting closer as he stalked towards Cole’s bedroom.
Cole’s eyes swung back to the boy on his bed.
“Shit, uh, he doesn’t know you came over today.” Oh god, so embarrassing. “Rust, could you…”
Rust stared at Cole, face blank, before putting Cole out of his misery and starting toward the bedroom closet.
Cole sucked in a deep breath and tried to busy himself with ripped edges of his notebook.
When it started, it was so much worse than he thought it would be. His dad was angry in the way that he had been more and more since Cole’s mom had passed away. In the way he saved for Cole.
Maybe it wasn’t any worse than normal, just now Cole knew that Rust was hearing it. He tried to keep his face neutral and waited.
Cole’s body flinched before he could process the need to move. His cheek stung where it had met the back of his dad's open hand.
Maybe Rust had gone spontaneously deaf since walking into the closet. Was it bad for Cole to wish for that?
Eventually, it ended and Cole’s dad slammed the bedroom door behind him. He couldn’t even remember what his dad had yelled about, but he was sure it was all the classics.
Cole silently thanked Rust when he realized Rust knew to wait until they could hear the door to his dad's study slam shut downstairs.
Cole waited, frozen, for his friend to come out.
When the closet door finally rattled open, Rust looked small to Cole, which was dumb. He was already getting taller than Cole.
He watched Rust search for the “right” words to say.
“Cole, what your dad just did…” Rust’s voice fell away. Isn’t okay, Cole could hear the rest in his head.
“Dude, it’s fine. Seriously, don’t worry about it.” Cole was aiming for breezy.
Rust’s eyes were stuck on the side of Cole's face. Cole guessed, from the look on his friend’s face and the heat radiating off his skin, that his cheek was probably red.
And he realized it didn’t matter how breezy his voice was, Rust was already running through an emergency plan in his head.
No.
How many times had Cole wished for someone to rescue him?
Now it was happening and he hated it.
He couldn’t reason to himself why he didn’t want this, but it felt wrong, it felt bad. The way that Rust was looking at him felt even worse.
Cole squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to think of a way out of this. His nails had just started to dig into skin when Rust found his voice again.
“I’ll call my mom, she’ll know what to do and then—“
“You can’t say anything,” Before Rust could open his mouth again, Cole insisted, “To anyone. To anyone, Rust.”
Rust stilled but Cole could tell by the way he shifted on his feet and flattened his lips into a thin line that he wasn’t going to listen. He thought desperately of how to silence Rust and settled on something he knew would hurt Rust enough: “I’ll never forgive you.”
Cole could tell his arrow had hit its mark. The corners of Rust’s lips turned down slightly in a way that reminded Cole of when they were kids and it was over. Rust would never say anything.
Cole felt a little guilty but he knew it was the only way to leash Rust’s savior complex.
“I’m okay, Rusty. I promise.” Cole slid a smile on that he knew Rust secretly loved and nudged him with his elbow. Breezy. “Just don’t want to make a big deal out of nothing.”
Rust grunted in response. It was probably the best that Cole was going to get.
Cole knew Rust wouldn’t completely let this go but he could manage him, like he manages his dad. He was good at that.
II.
Cole sat on the Vances’ back porch watching his boyfriend finish up some gardening for his mom.
He’d realized a while ago that watching Rust work around the house had quickly become one of his favorite past times. It definitely had something to do with the outlines of Rust’s back that flex under his shirt and the way he let sweat drip from his jaw. But it was more than that.
Before long, Rust sat down next to Cole to take a break. Rust’s mom dropped off glasses of ice tea while the boys talked idly.
The conversation had steered uncomfortably close to the events of this summer, like it seemed to do often, and Cole was busy trying to think of a change of subject when Rust beat him to it.
“I still regret it, you know.”
Something about Rust’s tone made Cole’s skin feel feverish. Cole tried to laugh it off, “Okay, weirdo. Regret what?”
“Keeping that day a secret.” Cole didn’t need him to elaborate on what day he meant.
Cole opened his lips, hoping something would spill out. Rust went silent again for what started to feel like hours to Cole.
A part of him had hoped never to have this conversation. Not a part, actually, all of him had hoped not to.
Cole was so focused on the silence that he jumped a little when Rust spoke again.
“If I’d done something then, it never would’ve gotten as far as it did.”
“To me hanging from some rafters?” Cole tried to joke. It surprisingly didn’t land.
“Don’t do that, Colton.” Soft, but firm.
Cole unhelpfully tried to clear his throat. “Look, Rust, what happened this summer wasn’t your fault.”
“Forget this summer. Maybe you wouldn’t have had to live like that all that time.” Emotion was starting to plague Rust’s voice.
Cole wanted to argue but he couldn’t think of anything to challenge that. He’d hated living with his dad since his mom passed away and Rust knew that.
Again, Rust was in no hurry to fill the silence he’d created. Sometimes Cole hated that Rust didn’t fear the quiet like he did.
“I didn’t really leave you any choice, Rust,” Cole tried. Rust rolled his eyes, shaking his head a little as he did.
Cole knew that sentiment wouldn’t heal Rust’s guilt. He knew that probably nothing would, so instead he focused on what he could control.
“Thank you.” Cole paused to think of how to word his thoughts, “Thanks for wanting to do something about it.”
His boyfriend didn’t look at him, but Cole could see his chest move with the force of a shaky breath.
Cole slid closer on the porch and leaned his head onto Rust’s shoulder. Rust responded by tilting his head until it rested on top of Cole’s.