Chapter Text
Anthony had been worried for Coy.
But really, is that new? Anthony couldn't help but be worried for Coy from the second Coy had moved into their house. Back then, they had practically been strangers. Now they shared a connection neither of them quite knew how to explain. They were interconnected in a very specific manner.
Anthony was currently sitting at the counter in their kitchen, thinking over Coy's behaviour as of late. He had been quiet. Distant. Anthony knew Coy had a habit of isolating himself. He had only witnessed it a handful of times. Sometimes something would set it off—a comment or a conversation that turned into an argument. He would immediately shut down. Nobody blamed him for it; it seemed more like a defense mechanism than something to hurt the other person.
Other times nothing would set it off. He would be fine one day and locked in his room the next.
It was unpredictable.
Will was at his cousin's wedding, so he would be gone for about a week, and Hanbon was visiting her parents a few states over, so she wouldn't be visiting their house anytime soon. Coy and Anthony were alone. "I'll be fun for you two." Hanbon had said. Maybe she was right. They hadn't had much time alone together, maybe it'll be good for them.
It wasn't too late. Anthony had already tried to sleep, though. For no particular reason, he wanted to go to sleep earlier than usual. Something had kept him from sleeping. What was it? He wasn't sure. He just couldn't shut his brain off. He lay in bed for about 45 minutes in darkness with his phone off beside him before giving up and dragging himself to the kitchen to make himself a snack.
Sighing quietly, Anthony got up from the chair and padded down the hallway to Coy's room. Dim light shone through the cracks in the door, but Anthony couldn't be sure that Coy was awake. Oftentimes, Coy would fall asleep with lights on. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes with his phone still in his hands. Anthony had a bit of a theory that Coy was scared of the dark. A while ago, Anthony had wanted to ask him about it. He ended up deciding against it, just in case Coy had bad association with the dark and then developed a phobia from from it or something.
Anthony decided against knocking, in case Coy was sleeping—he wouldn't want to wake him up, especially knowing Coy has a hard time falling back asleep when he's awoken from his sleep.
He opened the door as quietly as he could manage. Anthony scanned the room until his eyes caught on a figure at the foot of the bed.
There, hunched up and kneeling, was Coy. He was... crying? Coy's shoulders shook periodically with every near-silent sob.
It took a moment for Anthony to understand what he was doing. Coy's trembling hands were clasped together, fingers laced together above his head. Coy was mumbling something.
Oh. He was praying.
Immediately, Anthony was filled with worry. Coy had grazed over his past before. Anthony knew he grew up religious, and that it was extremely hard for him, especially as a gay kid. But... that was about it. Anthony didn't know the intricate stories of his childhood; Coy had never really talked about it. Anthony never pushed him on it, afraid he'd scare Coy off.
Watching the very non-religious Coy he had gotten to know kneel on the cold floor and mumble to a god he couldn't bring himself to believe in, was distressing.
Anthony felt a wave of guilt overtake him. It felt so, so wrong to willingly watch Coy without his knowledge in such a vulnerable moment. Anthony felt like he was intruding. He was intruding. He knew he should turn around and pretend he never witnessed this.
But something pulled him towards Coy. He stepped closer, careful not to make a sound. Anthony could finally make out what he was saying.
"Fix me, please, god. I don't want to be like this.." Anthony's heart broke. It was unmistakable what Coy was doing.
He had spoken tiny bits about how he felt about being Gay, but the comments were small and often mumbled under Coy's breath, so sometimes others would miss them. Anthony had always noticed how Coy could barely utter the word Gay if not in a joking or degrading way.
Coy didn't notice Anthony standing at the doorway.
"Coy?"
-----
Coy awoke from a sleep he didn't know he had fallen into. His phone rung loudly beside him. He blinked, trying to clear his blurry eyes. His mind felt heavy, stuck in a sleepy state. Coy glanced down beside him.
Reading the name flashing on the screen:
Dad
Coy sprang upright, his heart sinking and panic immediately spiking in his chest.
His dad didn't call.
He would text; sending passive aggressive comments every 2 months, but he would never call. Something must be really wrong.
Coy's mom would.
She would call every so often. Each time she would make comments that Coy had no choice but try to ignore.
Coy took a deep breath and picked up his phone. Immediately, his Dad's voice boomed through the phone.
"Your mother and I found your little channel with all of your friends."
Coy couldn't breathe for a second. Before he could even think, his dad continued,
"You act like a girl on camera. It's completely unacceptable. I have told you this many times: sinners like you are destined for eternal hell. If you don't repent, you will suffer for eternity."
Coy had heard this a million times. He was sick of it.
"I know."
"Then why won't you listen? You're choosing a life of sin."
"It's not a choice."
"Don't give me that, Coy. You know it is."
Coy was suddenly very angry. "It's not, Dad. You know that. I've told you that so many times, why don't you believe me?"
"Don't be disrespectful, Coy! Watch your tone. Stop lying to yourself. You need to repent and stop giving in to this sinful temptation. Your mother and I raised you better better than this!"
"I have to go."
"Don't you dare-"
Coy hung up before his dad could finish his sentence.
He sat there, breathing heavily for a few moments. The slience that settled in the house was far, far too loud.
His breathing hitched and tears started streaming down his face.
He covered his mouth with his hand, trying to muffle the desperate sobs that ripped from his chest. Anthony was home. He couldn't know about this.
Coy dragged himself off his bed before he even knew what he was doing.
His limbs felt heavy.
He knelt at the base of his bed, clasping his hands together. He felt pathetic and vulnerable like that, with all his thoughts and problems laid out between him and a god that could only be promised hypothetically.
"Please." He whispered into the air.
He sounded pathetic to his own ears. His dad's voice echoed through his mind:
"If you don't repent, you will suffer for eternity."
"Stop giving in to this sinful temptation."
"You're choosing a life of sin."
"Sinners like you are destined for eternal hell."
"-raised you better than this."
So, Coy made himself spit out words, though they were tangled with his sobs.
"Please, god, if you're really there, please fix me." His entire body trembled. "Please. Just make me normal." The words dissipated into the void where god was supposed to be.
"Please."
Coy was harshly reminded all those nights as a kid where he would kneel on the cold floor for hours, stripping himself of his dignity until his knees were bruised and his voice was hoarse. He would cry, still knelt on the floor, until the tears ran dry and he was left in the shuddering silence that left him completely alone.
He would wake the next morning to his parents harshly encouraging him to do it all over again until he fit their definition of "normal".
"Fix me, please god. I don't want to be like this."
A voice rang through his ears. A real, stable one, not just the echoing mumbles Coy managed through his sobs.
"Coy?"
Anthony.
And Coy was immediately overwhelmingly embarrassed and shameful.
Anthony wasn't supposed to see this; wasn't supposed to walk in as Coy was actively breaking. He was never supposed to see Coy like this. Nobody was supposed to see Coy like this. Not his parents, not Bon, nor Will—but especially not Anthony.
It was mortifying.
Coy whipped around to face Anthony, temporarily shocked out of his sobbing.
Anthony quickly stepped fowards and sunk down to the floor, kneeling next to Coy. "Hey, hey, what happened?" Coy's face immediately crumpled.
He collapsed into Anthony's arms.
"It's okay. I got you."
Coy stopped trying to muffle his sobs.
Loud, desperate crys echoed through the entire house, piercing Anthony's ears.
Coy cried until his head pounded. Years of built up emotion finally escaped him. Years of bullying, homophobia, hatred. And for what? Because he was slightly different? Coy didn't understand. He walked the same streets, wore the same clothes, went to the same school as everyone else in the small town, and people hated him for who he loved?
Nothing made sense.
His sobs subsided adter a while and he was left laying silently in Anthony's arms, not saying a word.
Eventually, Coy lifted his body and shifted out of Anthony's grasp.
He was still mortified.
"I'm so sorry-"
"It's okay." Anthony spoke with a gentle, genuine sincerity. "You're okay, Coy." He didn't ask questions, which Coy deeply appreciated.
"Can we not talk about this right now? Please?" Coy didn't want Anthony to look at him differently. He didn't want pity—he just wanted Anthony.
"Of course. We don't have to talk about anything you don't want to, but... just know, when you're ready to talk, I'm here. I want to be there for you."
"Thank you." Coy said, staring at floor.
A minute of (awkward) silence passed, before Coy finally decided he couldn't bear it. "Can we watch a movie or something?"
Anthony let out a breath and acted like he hadn't just had Coy sob in his arms, lightening his tone. "Yeah. What do you want to watch?"
Coy walked out of his room, signaling for Anthony to follow him. "I don't know. What do you think?"
They discussed what movie to watch for the next ten minutes, before deciding on some thriller-comedy movie neither of them had seen before.
Coy and Anthony sat in the Goffice. The TV was playing the movie on a lowish volume. Neither of them were really paying attention. Anthony kept glancing over at Coy, and Coy kept trying to pretend he didn't notice.
After about the 20th time Anthony had looked over, Coy finally spoke, knowing there was no running from what had happened. "My dad called me" he blurted out.
Anthony made a small sound, encouraging Coy to continue.
"He told me I'm gonna suffer in hell forever. He said that I'm choosing to 'give in to sinful temptations'. And... I think that he's right."
Anthony turned around fully, facing Coy. "No, no, Coy. You are not sinful. You're dad is wrong. You deserve to be able to love who you love without fear. If there is a god out there, he loves you for who you are. Everyone who told you differently is wrong. I am so sorry that they convinced you that you are inherently wrong. You're not. You are so cherished by the people around you. Bon, Will... me. You deserve to be loved for who you are, not for who they want you to be."
"Thanks, Ant." And Coy couldn't help if his voice cracked a little.
Slowly, as if he was testing Coy's reaction, Anthony leaned in and wrapped his arms around Coy.
He sunk into it immediately.
The two sat there, cuddling on that couch for a long time.
Eventually, the weight of everything that had happened sunk into Coy and he fell asleep. His breathing evened out and his consciousness difted away.
Anthony noticed immediately, of course, and couldn't help but smile at the fact that Coy felt safe enough to fall asleep in his arms.
Minutes passed and Anthony began to get very tired.
Before he could even process why, the whispered words "I love you" tumbled out his mouth and were immediately swallowed by the dim house. Silence replied to him. Coy was still sound asleep.
Anthony fell asleep to a sinking realization and the sound of Coy's breathing that night.