Axel couldn't stop fucking grinning.
>> Axel Fontaine continued from you can go your own way
He couldn't see himself but he was pretty sure he looked like a goddamn idiot. Sweaty as fuck, hair stuck to his forehead, scraped knuckles, probably a few good bruises forming. His mouth tasted like blood—he ran his tongue across his teeth, searching for a wound, finding nothing. No broken teeth, no emergency, probably a busted lip. But as he cracked his knuckles experimentally he found himself grinning again. Maybe it was just the adrenaline, maybe something in him had just been jonesing hard for a good fight these last few years. Maybe he was actually just a goddamn idiot.
"I have great goddamn ideas," Axel muttered as he sat down, laid on his back, sighed. It was way too hot, 90-plus easy, and his busted air conditioner had never been more a pain in the dick than it was at this exact moment. His skin felt like it might stick to the wooden floor beneath him.
This wasn't really how he'd planned for things to go.
Andy was a friend. A pretty good friend as far as that went; Axel was never great at figuring out the whole friendship gig, but he was getting better at it, and Andy was one of the few people he liked enough to actually invite back to chill at his. His parents were delighted, naturally, so much so that Andy could have probably turned up with a fifth of vodka in hand and they would have let him right in, not that he was in the mood to get drunk with the weather like it was. Weed would have been a better idea, but being sober wasn't bad, either. Plenty to do fucking around sober. They jammed a bit, not for long since they lacked both the equipment and the bassist—Hel had been busy, they'd said when he invited them, but they'd said it with a raised eyebrow that said to him that they didn't want to intrude on the bro bonding session. They got bored, switched to gaming. Wasn't his particular bag normally, but he'd picked up a beat up Nintendo 64 and some games at a garage sale a few months back, made for good entertainment when you had people over. Amazing how many hours you can kill playing fucking minigames in Pokemon Stadium.
Andy had been... somewhere else, though. Axel was generally pretty bad at noticing shit, especially emotional shit, but Andy seemed off his game, both with his guitar and with how thoroughly Axel was kicking his ass in the games department at the moment. He knew some of the details, mostly through Hel. Something something therapy, something something family bullshit. It's not like Axel couldn't relate, but the moment he thought to open his mouth and actually talk about it, try to sympathize or help or whatever, he realized that wasn't gonna do anything. Andy had a therapist already, and Axel would make a shitty one anyway. He sucked at words and he sucked at talking about feelings, they both had Hel for that kind of shit. There was one tried and tested method Axel had for solving problems like this, and he had a feeling Andy would be down.
"Yo." He'd paused the game, put the controller down, looked at Andy, whose blank expression had settled into mild confusion.
"You wanna just, fuckin'... you wanna fight?"
Fast forward something like ten minutes. Maybe more, maybe less. It felt like an eternity.
The busted lip would heal, so would the bruises. The floor lamp Andy had trashed wouldn't, but whatever, it was cheap shit. His parents were out, he was pretty sure, seeing as no one had come to ask about the shattering glass; he'd come up with an excuse later, or, really, he could just tell them exactly what happened and they wouldn't care.
His breath was heavy as he stared at the ceiling. The grin wouldn't leave his face.
"You feelin' any better?"
youngblood
say you want me (summer 2015)
youngblood
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
"Yeah... shit."
It was hotter than Satan's taint in here, Andy had a cut on his knuckles from Axel's teeth that'd he'd probably forget to disinfect, and yeah, actually, he did feel a lot better.
Roughhousing wasn't really a thing at his house, whatever people might have expected with four adolescent boys crowding the place. Andy's parents had always been firm on that, and he'd almost always been the one to end up violating the rule. He'd gotten in fights at school too, when he was younger. He used to think he didn't have a reason for getting so agitated.
Hell, a lot of the time now he still felt like he didn't have a real reason. He'd kind of gotten used to thinking he was just an asshole, and then it turned out he was actually a crazy asshole, like that was better.
Axel laid down on the floor and Andy followed suit, running his hands through his sweat-damp hair and still breathing hard. He was, like... not sure a lot of the time about how Axel felt about him. They had a mutual friend in Hel, and they either got along great or shoved and hit each other until they went back to getting along, but sometimes Andy wondered if Axel actually... you know, liked him as a friend. Ever since starting freshman year over, Andy has been hyper-aware of all his own oddities and convinced that other people saw them too now. It was something he maybe should bring up with his therapist but he never got around to making the words come out.
A lot of the time lately, Andy just thought that he probably wasn't very likable at all, and that everyone besides Hel probably only spent time with him because they felt obligated. He'd been in a bad spot anyway when Axel invited him over, but he guessed that particular bugbear might have been coming through in his lack of focus.
The fight had been sudden and unexpected, but a good break. There was a bubble in Andy's head that needed bursting so he could stop counting the tapping of his foot and start focusing on the game, or his guitar, or whatever. He felt kind of shitty about the broken lamp, but Axel said it didn't matter, so Andy was just going to go along with that. His fog had been lifted, for a little while.
"Ugh, it's hot as balls in here though. You got any fans?" Andy stretched his arms over his head and arched his back a little to separate from the floor and the sweat puddle he was already leaving. Even stripped down to just basketball shorts, he was drenched.
It was hotter than Satan's taint in here, Andy had a cut on his knuckles from Axel's teeth that'd he'd probably forget to disinfect, and yeah, actually, he did feel a lot better.
Roughhousing wasn't really a thing at his house, whatever people might have expected with four adolescent boys crowding the place. Andy's parents had always been firm on that, and he'd almost always been the one to end up violating the rule. He'd gotten in fights at school too, when he was younger. He used to think he didn't have a reason for getting so agitated.
Hell, a lot of the time now he still felt like he didn't have a real reason. He'd kind of gotten used to thinking he was just an asshole, and then it turned out he was actually a crazy asshole, like that was better.
Axel laid down on the floor and Andy followed suit, running his hands through his sweat-damp hair and still breathing hard. He was, like... not sure a lot of the time about how Axel felt about him. They had a mutual friend in Hel, and they either got along great or shoved and hit each other until they went back to getting along, but sometimes Andy wondered if Axel actually... you know, liked him as a friend. Ever since starting freshman year over, Andy has been hyper-aware of all his own oddities and convinced that other people saw them too now. It was something he maybe should bring up with his therapist but he never got around to making the words come out.
A lot of the time lately, Andy just thought that he probably wasn't very likable at all, and that everyone besides Hel probably only spent time with him because they felt obligated. He'd been in a bad spot anyway when Axel invited him over, but he guessed that particular bugbear might have been coming through in his lack of focus.
The fight had been sudden and unexpected, but a good break. There was a bubble in Andy's head that needed bursting so he could stop counting the tapping of his foot and start focusing on the game, or his guitar, or whatever. He felt kind of shitty about the broken lamp, but Axel said it didn't matter, so Andy was just going to go along with that. His fog had been lifted, for a little while.
"Ugh, it's hot as balls in here though. You got any fans?" Andy stretched his arms over his head and arched his back a little to separate from the floor and the sweat puddle he was already leaving. Even stripped down to just basketball shorts, he was drenched.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
"Nah. Fan's in the air conditioner. Also busted."
Honestly Axel kind of wanted to ditch Andy to go take a shower, or at least go wash off with a garden hose or some shit, but that would kind of miss the point of trying to cheer Andy up. He wiped his mouth, glanced down at the blood left on his hand, shrugged. The adrenaline was wearing off a little at a time, his breath was going back to normal, and he was becoming acutely aware of how fucking thirsty he was. He'd probably lost like half of his body weight through sweat at this point. With a groan he tore himself off the floor, kind of surprised that his damp skin hadn't stuck him to the ground, and slowly got to his feet. He licked his lips, tasting salt and iron.
"Gonna grab water. Hold up a sec," he tossed behind him as he headed out the door, not looking at Andy as he made his way out and toward the kitchen. He filled two cups to the top with ice before filling them with tap water. He paused, downed one of the glasses, filled it up again, downed it again, and filled a third glass before looking toward his room and choosing to make a quick detour to the bathroom.
Axel stared at his face in the bathroom mirror for a long moment. His hair was a mess, soaking wet enough that he looked like he just out of the shower, looking about a solid inch longer than normal, hanging just below his chin. He made a face at his roots; they'd grown in two inches, but they were such a fucking pain in the dick to fix. The red-black gradient looked decent, at least, though he was gonna start looking like he had red tips instead of red hair in a bit. He poked at the hole under his lip where his lip ring normally fit; he'd at least been smart enough to take the goddamn thing out before the fighting started, which was probably for the best since Andy had punched his teeth in and he'd be eating metal right about now. The gash in his lip didn't look great, but he'd had worse heal without stitches. He looked like... he looked like a dude who'd just been in a fight. He looked damn good for it, too. He pushed his hair back, trying to figure out how to make it look good slicked with sweat, examining it at all angles. He ruffled it a bit, that helped.
... Why the fuck was he fixing his hair? The only one here was Andy, who clearly didn't give a shit. He frowned at himself before splashing some cold water on his face, splashing some on his neck and shoulders with a contented sigh. Eyeing his lip, he splashed some water on that too, dabbing some blood off with a washcloth. Good enough. He took the water and headed back.
"Yo. Took a-"
He paused.
Andy was chilling on the floor like he'd been himself a minute ago. Soaked in sweat, wearing his basketball shorts and nothing else, still breathing a bit hard. Nothing surprising. The same way he'd left him when he'd gotten up. Nothing had changed. Nothing at all had changed except for how Axel's breath caught when he looked at him. He swallowed and averted his eyes, focusing on the floor next to him, trying to scrub his brain of whatever thoughts were coming to it because now was not the time, it was not the fucking time—
"Took a detour. To wash my face and shit. Got water, though."
He gave a meaningless shrug and lowered himself to the floor, handing Andy his water, still assudiously not looking at him. He forced a grin, hoping he didn't look as nervous as he suddenly felt.
"You look... uh, better." God, he sounded stupid all of a sudden. "Haven't had a good fight in years. I try not t'pick fights with people I don't like anymore. Never goes well. This is... better."
Honestly Axel kind of wanted to ditch Andy to go take a shower, or at least go wash off with a garden hose or some shit, but that would kind of miss the point of trying to cheer Andy up. He wiped his mouth, glanced down at the blood left on his hand, shrugged. The adrenaline was wearing off a little at a time, his breath was going back to normal, and he was becoming acutely aware of how fucking thirsty he was. He'd probably lost like half of his body weight through sweat at this point. With a groan he tore himself off the floor, kind of surprised that his damp skin hadn't stuck him to the ground, and slowly got to his feet. He licked his lips, tasting salt and iron.
"Gonna grab water. Hold up a sec," he tossed behind him as he headed out the door, not looking at Andy as he made his way out and toward the kitchen. He filled two cups to the top with ice before filling them with tap water. He paused, downed one of the glasses, filled it up again, downed it again, and filled a third glass before looking toward his room and choosing to make a quick detour to the bathroom.
Axel stared at his face in the bathroom mirror for a long moment. His hair was a mess, soaking wet enough that he looked like he just out of the shower, looking about a solid inch longer than normal, hanging just below his chin. He made a face at his roots; they'd grown in two inches, but they were such a fucking pain in the dick to fix. The red-black gradient looked decent, at least, though he was gonna start looking like he had red tips instead of red hair in a bit. He poked at the hole under his lip where his lip ring normally fit; he'd at least been smart enough to take the goddamn thing out before the fighting started, which was probably for the best since Andy had punched his teeth in and he'd be eating metal right about now. The gash in his lip didn't look great, but he'd had worse heal without stitches. He looked like... he looked like a dude who'd just been in a fight. He looked damn good for it, too. He pushed his hair back, trying to figure out how to make it look good slicked with sweat, examining it at all angles. He ruffled it a bit, that helped.
... Why the fuck was he fixing his hair? The only one here was Andy, who clearly didn't give a shit. He frowned at himself before splashing some cold water on his face, splashing some on his neck and shoulders with a contented sigh. Eyeing his lip, he splashed some water on that too, dabbing some blood off with a washcloth. Good enough. He took the water and headed back.
"Yo. Took a-"
He paused.
Andy was chilling on the floor like he'd been himself a minute ago. Soaked in sweat, wearing his basketball shorts and nothing else, still breathing a bit hard. Nothing surprising. The same way he'd left him when he'd gotten up. Nothing had changed. Nothing at all had changed except for how Axel's breath caught when he looked at him. He swallowed and averted his eyes, focusing on the floor next to him, trying to scrub his brain of whatever thoughts were coming to it because now was not the time, it was not the fucking time—
"Took a detour. To wash my face and shit. Got water, though."
He gave a meaningless shrug and lowered himself to the floor, handing Andy his water, still assudiously not looking at him. He forced a grin, hoping he didn't look as nervous as he suddenly felt.
"You look... uh, better." God, he sounded stupid all of a sudden. "Haven't had a good fight in years. I try not t'pick fights with people I don't like anymore. Never goes well. This is... better."
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
Andy peeled himself up into a sitting position with a groan, accepting the glass Axel offered and taking a deep gulp. He was careful not to drink too fast -- he'd made that mistake before at practice and paid the price in stomach cramps -- but by the time the glass was down to rapidly-melting ice cubes, he felt refreshed.
"Hey, I'm always down to punch you in your stupid fucking face, you know?" Andy grinned, hoping the words sounded as joking as he meant them. Thing was, however Axel actually felt, Andy wanted Axel to like him. Hel was cool and great and all that shit, but having only one friend wasn't ideal when said friend had stuff to do or there were things that Andy felt like doing or saying that he didn't really feel comfortable doing in front of a girl. Like just up and punching someone or something.
He fished an ice cube out of the glass with his tongue and just held it in his mouth, swishing it from one side to the other as it melted. God, he almost felt like going and sticking his whole head right into the fridge. Southern summers were ass.
"So now what?"
"Hey, I'm always down to punch you in your stupid fucking face, you know?" Andy grinned, hoping the words sounded as joking as he meant them. Thing was, however Axel actually felt, Andy wanted Axel to like him. Hel was cool and great and all that shit, but having only one friend wasn't ideal when said friend had stuff to do or there were things that Andy felt like doing or saying that he didn't really feel comfortable doing in front of a girl. Like just up and punching someone or something.
He fished an ice cube out of the glass with his tongue and just held it in his mouth, swishing it from one side to the other as it melted. God, he almost felt like going and sticking his whole head right into the fridge. Southern summers were ass.
"So now what?"
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
So now what? Good fucking question.
Axel's adrenaline was entirely drained at this point, whether from time, the water he'd splashed on his face, or the new gnawing sensation in his gut. He glanced at Andy when he spoke which was a huge mistake because Jesus, had his smile always been so... much? He immediately looked back down at his feet, thankful that he was already red from the heat and from exertion. Still, his fake grin died down into a small, genuine smile. Andy sounded so much better. It'd been a long-ass time since he'd gotten into a fight where the other person looked happy at the end of it. So that was worth something, even though he was starting to realize that inviting him over in this goddamn heat was a terrible idea.
It wasn't the first time he'd gotten this flustered around a guy. Hell, it wasn't even the first time he'd gotten this flustered around Andy. It wasn't the first time thoughts had come to his head at the worst possible moment, it wasn't the first time he'd wanted to sink into the floor from shame, it wasn't the first time he'd fervently hoped no one could tell, no one could look at him and just see it, somehow, see this part of him, see what he only let himself feel at 2 AM alone on his laptop, guilty, guilty, guilty.
He should've been used to it by now. But the moment he was used to it was the moment he accepted it was normal, the moment he accepted that that was who he was. And that couldn't be who he was.
And that was fine. So long as he still liked girls, it was fine. The rest could be buried as far fucking down as he dig.
"Good question. Could go back to kickin' your ass at Mario Kart. Keep track of how many things I'm better at than you." He pushed his hair back, realized immediately that he'd messed up how he'd fixed it in the bathroom mirror, realized a moment later that Andy still didn't give a shit. He sighed. "This weather's still fuckin' killing me. Been livin' in Tennessee for like eleven years, you'd think I'd be used to it by now, but some part of my brain's still in Seattle, I guess."
He wondered if he'd feel this guilty if he were still in Seattle. He wondered what his parents would have said. He was doing a bad fucking job of not dwelling on this.
Axel's adrenaline was entirely drained at this point, whether from time, the water he'd splashed on his face, or the new gnawing sensation in his gut. He glanced at Andy when he spoke which was a huge mistake because Jesus, had his smile always been so... much? He immediately looked back down at his feet, thankful that he was already red from the heat and from exertion. Still, his fake grin died down into a small, genuine smile. Andy sounded so much better. It'd been a long-ass time since he'd gotten into a fight where the other person looked happy at the end of it. So that was worth something, even though he was starting to realize that inviting him over in this goddamn heat was a terrible idea.
It wasn't the first time he'd gotten this flustered around a guy. Hell, it wasn't even the first time he'd gotten this flustered around Andy. It wasn't the first time thoughts had come to his head at the worst possible moment, it wasn't the first time he'd wanted to sink into the floor from shame, it wasn't the first time he'd fervently hoped no one could tell, no one could look at him and just see it, somehow, see this part of him, see what he only let himself feel at 2 AM alone on his laptop, guilty, guilty, guilty.
He should've been used to it by now. But the moment he was used to it was the moment he accepted it was normal, the moment he accepted that that was who he was. And that couldn't be who he was.
And that was fine. So long as he still liked girls, it was fine. The rest could be buried as far fucking down as he dig.
"Good question. Could go back to kickin' your ass at Mario Kart. Keep track of how many things I'm better at than you." He pushed his hair back, realized immediately that he'd messed up how he'd fixed it in the bathroom mirror, realized a moment later that Andy still didn't give a shit. He sighed. "This weather's still fuckin' killing me. Been livin' in Tennessee for like eleven years, you'd think I'd be used to it by now, but some part of my brain's still in Seattle, I guess."
He wondered if he'd feel this guilty if he were still in Seattle. He wondered what his parents would have said. He was doing a bad fucking job of not dwelling on this.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
Some of the ice in Andy's glass had already melted and he sipped it up. Going back to video games sounded alright (and for the record, he didn't lose to Axel nearly as often as he did to Hel, which proved to him that he wasn't bad at racing games so much as that Hel was inhumanly good at them), but what Axel said after that piqued his interest.
Andy had only ever been out of Tennessee a few times, mainly to visit relatives and once to go to an airshow for the Fourth of July several years back. Unlike some military families, his had always been firmly anchored in Chattanooga, Navy pun unintended but not apologized for. The west coast was as good as a foreign country. All he knew about Seattle was that it was rainy, and that sounded like heaven next to Chattanooga's current state of being directly inside the devil's asshole.
"Seattle, huh? Hell of a move. When did you- wait, shit, you said when." Andy grinned a little, tapping the fingers of his free hand against his leg in rhythm, index-middle-ring-pinkie and back down the line. "What'd you move for, though?"
He planned on moving, eventually. He didn't know where or exactly when yet, but someday. Right now, somewhere cool and rainy sounded nice. He'd always found rain soothing. Hearing about a place like that was probably as good as he'd get for a while.
Andy had only ever been out of Tennessee a few times, mainly to visit relatives and once to go to an airshow for the Fourth of July several years back. Unlike some military families, his had always been firmly anchored in Chattanooga, Navy pun unintended but not apologized for. The west coast was as good as a foreign country. All he knew about Seattle was that it was rainy, and that sounded like heaven next to Chattanooga's current state of being directly inside the devil's asshole.
"Seattle, huh? Hell of a move. When did you- wait, shit, you said when." Andy grinned a little, tapping the fingers of his free hand against his leg in rhythm, index-middle-ring-pinkie and back down the line. "What'd you move for, though?"
He planned on moving, eventually. He didn't know where or exactly when yet, but someday. Right now, somewhere cool and rainy sounded nice. He'd always found rain soothing. Hearing about a place like that was probably as good as he'd get for a while.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
"My parents died."
Axel didn't flinch.
He did sigh, pushing his hair back yet again. He'd had this conversation a million times over the years, usually with teachers or occasionally with kids who feigned sympathy but quickly lost interest. But Andy had proven himself to not be a total piece of shit so far, so maybe he actually wanted to hear it. This was like, a friendship milestone, or whatever. It meant something for once. That was... something.
"Car crash or somethin' when I was like, five. Don't remember much, obviously. Got shipped off to my uncle in Memphis for a little bit until he got sick of me, then a fuckton of foster homes, couldn't tell you how many. Wound up here when I was eleven."
He paused. That told the part of the story Andy was asking about, so he should probably just leave it there, but if there was ever gonna be a time to air the rest of his dirty laundry it was now, and he was on a roll here. He took a gulp of water.
"... Got kicked out of school in the seventh grade. Got in a lot more fights back then than now, believe it or not. Took a year off, chilled out a bit, and here I am. Chilled out. Not literally." He grinned. "Swear to fuck the water's getting hot already."
Axel didn't flinch.
He did sigh, pushing his hair back yet again. He'd had this conversation a million times over the years, usually with teachers or occasionally with kids who feigned sympathy but quickly lost interest. But Andy had proven himself to not be a total piece of shit so far, so maybe he actually wanted to hear it. This was like, a friendship milestone, or whatever. It meant something for once. That was... something.
"Car crash or somethin' when I was like, five. Don't remember much, obviously. Got shipped off to my uncle in Memphis for a little bit until he got sick of me, then a fuckton of foster homes, couldn't tell you how many. Wound up here when I was eleven."
He paused. That told the part of the story Andy was asking about, so he should probably just leave it there, but if there was ever gonna be a time to air the rest of his dirty laundry it was now, and he was on a roll here. He took a gulp of water.
"... Got kicked out of school in the seventh grade. Got in a lot more fights back then than now, believe it or not. Took a year off, chilled out a bit, and here I am. Chilled out. Not literally." He grinned. "Swear to fuck the water's getting hot already."
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
"Oh, shit, uh..."
Shit. Okay, they were like, here all of a sudden? Jesus, Andy had just been angsting over whether or not Axel really considered him a friend and now shit had just gotten heavy out of nowhere so like, Andy guessed that was a friendship thing? Axel being Axel, it didn't seem like he'd go around giving the tragic backstory reveal to just anyone.
The rhythm of Andy's fingers had stopped. He'd met Axel's parents, who he now knew were Axel's foster parents, several times and he wasn't blind or anything, so it was pretty obvious that they were extremely white while Axel was less extremely kinda white, but he hadn't really thought about it. Okay, maybe dead parents being a thing should have been the obvious option, but it just hadn't been.
"Um, I'm sorry." Shit, shit, he needed something else to say. "I'm sorry" was the obvious thing to say when someone told you about a dead relative, but they were doing like, a heart-to-heart thing now? Everything he came up with sounded awkward and forced.
Andy swirled his glass a bit just to give himself something to do. He did a quick count and came up with an odd number of half-melted ice cubes, so he quickly fished another out and popped it in his mouth. He held it in one place on the center of his tongue until the cold and numbness edged up against genuine discomfort, giving himself a moment to think. Or to panic a little bit more, at least.
Well, fuck, he still had nothing good or deep or feelings-y. So he did the reasonable thing and blurted out the first thing that came to mind instead.
"Hey, we uh, we got kicked out of school for the same reason. Or like, my parents had me pulled out, but I was probably going to fail or get kicked out anyway if they didn't."
Friendship was hard, but Andy could do symmetry.
Shit. Okay, they were like, here all of a sudden? Jesus, Andy had just been angsting over whether or not Axel really considered him a friend and now shit had just gotten heavy out of nowhere so like, Andy guessed that was a friendship thing? Axel being Axel, it didn't seem like he'd go around giving the tragic backstory reveal to just anyone.
The rhythm of Andy's fingers had stopped. He'd met Axel's parents, who he now knew were Axel's foster parents, several times and he wasn't blind or anything, so it was pretty obvious that they were extremely white while Axel was less extremely kinda white, but he hadn't really thought about it. Okay, maybe dead parents being a thing should have been the obvious option, but it just hadn't been.
"Um, I'm sorry." Shit, shit, he needed something else to say. "I'm sorry" was the obvious thing to say when someone told you about a dead relative, but they were doing like, a heart-to-heart thing now? Everything he came up with sounded awkward and forced.
Andy swirled his glass a bit just to give himself something to do. He did a quick count and came up with an odd number of half-melted ice cubes, so he quickly fished another out and popped it in his mouth. He held it in one place on the center of his tongue until the cold and numbness edged up against genuine discomfort, giving himself a moment to think. Or to panic a little bit more, at least.
Well, fuck, he still had nothing good or deep or feelings-y. So he did the reasonable thing and blurted out the first thing that came to mind instead.
"Hey, we uh, we got kicked out of school for the same reason. Or like, my parents had me pulled out, but I was probably going to fail or get kicked out anyway if they didn't."
Friendship was hard, but Andy could do symmetry.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
Axel stopped dead in the middle of a draught of water and burst out laughing. If he'd been talking to anyone else he might spare a sec to worry that maybe that was kind of a dickish reaction, but like, it was Andy, there was basically no chance of him giving a shit. And if he did, hey, no time like the present to completely fuck this up.
"Yeah. Yeah, of course. That scans. Can't keep out of trouble, huh?" He wiped a bit more blood off his lip before draining the glass of water, leaving a pile of rapidly melting ice cubes. "Whole thing was a pain in the dick. Weird being older than everyone, too. Guess we're the same age though, yeah?"
He looked at Andy and it took him a few seconds longer than it had before for his brain to focus on what, exactly, he was looking at, at which point he forced himself to look at anything else, fervently thanking whoever or whatever had made sure that Andy wasn't the observant type.
"I get the 'I'm sorry' a lot. Nothin' to really be sorry about, though. Like I said, don't remember much, so not much to be upset about, yeah?" That was mostly true. He had memories still, flashes of them, and those were precious things that he hoarded for the moments he needed them. He used to have more, but they slipped away, over the years. But all that shit was too sentimental. This was, like, a bonding session, not therapy.
Axel shrugged and forced another grin. "Girls love the whole tragic backstory thing, y'know? So I guess it's workin' out for me."
"Yeah. Yeah, of course. That scans. Can't keep out of trouble, huh?" He wiped a bit more blood off his lip before draining the glass of water, leaving a pile of rapidly melting ice cubes. "Whole thing was a pain in the dick. Weird being older than everyone, too. Guess we're the same age though, yeah?"
He looked at Andy and it took him a few seconds longer than it had before for his brain to focus on what, exactly, he was looking at, at which point he forced himself to look at anything else, fervently thanking whoever or whatever had made sure that Andy wasn't the observant type.
"I get the 'I'm sorry' a lot. Nothin' to really be sorry about, though. Like I said, don't remember much, so not much to be upset about, yeah?" That was mostly true. He had memories still, flashes of them, and those were precious things that he hoarded for the moments he needed them. He used to have more, but they slipped away, over the years. But all that shit was too sentimental. This was, like, a bonding session, not therapy.
Axel shrugged and forced another grin. "Girls love the whole tragic backstory thing, y'know? So I guess it's workin' out for me."
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
Andy sighed into his glass, tension easing from his shoulders when Axel laughed.
"Yeah man, it's ass. I think you, me, and Hel are all older than everyone else though, so that's kinda cool?" It was still kind of a weird feeling, when he thought about it. It seemed like something everyone else should have been aware of; the grades on either side of the current one felt worlds away, so there should have been some glaring difference marking Andy as someone who was in the wrong place and time. Nobody ever said anything about it unless they knew he'd had to repeat a year or his birthday came up, though.
He was both relieved and surprised by how casual Axel seemed about the whole thing. It was a long span of time between five and sixteen to get used to the idea that your parents were dead, he guessed.
Things still didn't feel completely even, though. Andy rolled the chilled part of the glass back and forth across his forehead and then set it down on the floor, leaning back on one hand and combing his damp hair out of his face with the other.
"I, uh. I got in a fight because it turns out I've got OCD? And it was already fucking me up with my grades and stuff, and then I had a freak-out in class and punched a guy. So like, after all that I asked if I could switch schools to do freshman year again because... yeah."
After a few seconds, he added, "Guy was a douche though and totally deserved it."
"Yeah man, it's ass. I think you, me, and Hel are all older than everyone else though, so that's kinda cool?" It was still kind of a weird feeling, when he thought about it. It seemed like something everyone else should have been aware of; the grades on either side of the current one felt worlds away, so there should have been some glaring difference marking Andy as someone who was in the wrong place and time. Nobody ever said anything about it unless they knew he'd had to repeat a year or his birthday came up, though.
He was both relieved and surprised by how casual Axel seemed about the whole thing. It was a long span of time between five and sixteen to get used to the idea that your parents were dead, he guessed.
Things still didn't feel completely even, though. Andy rolled the chilled part of the glass back and forth across his forehead and then set it down on the floor, leaning back on one hand and combing his damp hair out of his face with the other.
"I, uh. I got in a fight because it turns out I've got OCD? And it was already fucking me up with my grades and stuff, and then I had a freak-out in class and punched a guy. So like, after all that I asked if I could switch schools to do freshman year again because... yeah."
After a few seconds, he added, "Guy was a douche though and totally deserved it."
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
"Huh, yeah, forgot that Hel is too. Weird."
Coincidence, maybe, but it kinda felt like it was meant to be, stupid as that sounded. Axel knew the details of Hel's whole thing, though they were slipping his mind at the moment. Something shitty in middle school. Middle school was bullshit for everyone, apparently. Was he an asshole for not remembering? He was probably gonna forget half the details of this conversation too in a couple days, but Andy probably would too, so it was probably fine. He poured a couple of tiny ice cubes into his mouth and crunched them between his teeth; they made a splintering noise as they shattered and pricked at his gums.
He'd done a decent job playing off the whole dead parents thing, he guessed. Was kind of a weird thing to bring up out of the blue but like, there wasn't really another answer to the question Andy had asked that wasn't a lie. He stretched as he let the shards of ice dissolve on his tongue before popping another ice cube in his mouth, letting this one melt, and looked at Andy. His stomach tightened, but he didn't look away, because looking at other guys was something he was just gonna have to fucking do sometimes and he should probably stop looking like a nervous idiot.
Fuck he looked good with his hair wet.
"Y... yeah. Course." He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to focus. He knew Andy had some shit, just not the specifics. He didn't know enough about OCD to judge whether or not it was a huge deal, either, though he figured if it had made him lose a year of school it was a pretty goddamn big deal. He seemed reasonably well-adjusted, but that didn't mean shit. More importantly he was a decent guy who was fun to hang out with and down for a brawl every once and a while, and that kinda already ticked all his friendship boxes, so everything else was kind of whatever.
"Better than me, man. Kid that got me suspended definitely didn't. I'd like, heard someone was talking shit, thought it might be him but nah, definitely wasn't, but something about his face- I dunno, man, I just kinda snapped. The way he looked at me was just..."
He frowned, looked away again, but not for the same reason. Similar, but not quite the same. Shame welled up within him at the memory. He didn't regret many of the punches he'd thrown over the years, he was still close enough to his thirteen-year-old self to be angry at him. It was himself he'd really wanted to hit, anyway. No use taking that feeling out on anyone else.
Coincidence, maybe, but it kinda felt like it was meant to be, stupid as that sounded. Axel knew the details of Hel's whole thing, though they were slipping his mind at the moment. Something shitty in middle school. Middle school was bullshit for everyone, apparently. Was he an asshole for not remembering? He was probably gonna forget half the details of this conversation too in a couple days, but Andy probably would too, so it was probably fine. He poured a couple of tiny ice cubes into his mouth and crunched them between his teeth; they made a splintering noise as they shattered and pricked at his gums.
He'd done a decent job playing off the whole dead parents thing, he guessed. Was kind of a weird thing to bring up out of the blue but like, there wasn't really another answer to the question Andy had asked that wasn't a lie. He stretched as he let the shards of ice dissolve on his tongue before popping another ice cube in his mouth, letting this one melt, and looked at Andy. His stomach tightened, but he didn't look away, because looking at other guys was something he was just gonna have to fucking do sometimes and he should probably stop looking like a nervous idiot.
Fuck he looked good with his hair wet.
"Y... yeah. Course." He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to focus. He knew Andy had some shit, just not the specifics. He didn't know enough about OCD to judge whether or not it was a huge deal, either, though he figured if it had made him lose a year of school it was a pretty goddamn big deal. He seemed reasonably well-adjusted, but that didn't mean shit. More importantly he was a decent guy who was fun to hang out with and down for a brawl every once and a while, and that kinda already ticked all his friendship boxes, so everything else was kind of whatever.
"Better than me, man. Kid that got me suspended definitely didn't. I'd like, heard someone was talking shit, thought it might be him but nah, definitely wasn't, but something about his face- I dunno, man, I just kinda snapped. The way he looked at me was just..."
He frowned, looked away again, but not for the same reason. Similar, but not quite the same. Shame welled up within him at the memory. He didn't regret many of the punches he'd thrown over the years, he was still close enough to his thirteen-year-old self to be angry at him. It was himself he'd really wanted to hit, anyway. No use taking that feeling out on anyone else.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
Andy continued to absently comb at his hair much like Axel had been doing. More symmetry. He'd always liked it when things matched up. It was something he thought about more consciously now, and the thinking about it annoyed him, but it didn't change the fact that he got a couple of steps closer to something like peace when everything was even.
"Some people just have faces like that, huh?" He shrugged and stopped messing with his hair, instead drawing his knees up to lean forward and fold his arms on them. Sweaty skin on skin, but it was preferable to how he was starting to stick to the floor.
Andy wasn't great at the friendship thing, or a lot of other things, honestly, but it was obvious even to him that they were approaching something now that Axel might not be in the mood to talk about. The smart move, then, would probably be to not talk about it.
"You, uh... you wanna talk about it?"
The rhythm had started up again, tapping index-middle-ring-little finger against his arm and back down the line. The dumb move, at least, didn't leave things to hang over them unsaid.
"Some people just have faces like that, huh?" He shrugged and stopped messing with his hair, instead drawing his knees up to lean forward and fold his arms on them. Sweaty skin on skin, but it was preferable to how he was starting to stick to the floor.
Andy wasn't great at the friendship thing, or a lot of other things, honestly, but it was obvious even to him that they were approaching something now that Axel might not be in the mood to talk about. The smart move, then, would probably be to not talk about it.
"You, uh... you wanna talk about it?"
The rhythm had started up again, tapping index-middle-ring-little finger against his arm and back down the line. The dumb move, at least, didn't leave things to hang over them unsaid.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
Did he want to talk about it? Good question.
He hadn't. Not ever. Not even to Hel, and he'd talked to Hel about most things, but this particular thing overwhelmed him so badly with hot shame that he couldn't face them with it. And there was no one else he'd ever cared to tell. His school had recommended therapy when he was expelled, but his parents said he didn't have to go if he didn't want to, so he didn't. The only thing they'd mandated was some bullshit scare-em-straight program that basically boiled down to making him and some other young delinquents look at some prisoners and going "you don't want to end up like that, straighten up your act kid," blah blah blah whatever. What he'd actually done, let alone why, didn't seem to matter to anyone. All that mattered was that he'd done something wrong.
His parents helped, sort of. They trusted that he wanted to do better, found him better outlets for his energy, bought him his guitar. They hadn't pried into the incident, and he hadn't told them anything. But he'd been able to bury it, and for years that had been good enough. What the hell was the point in talking about it now? The smart thing to do would be to shut the fuck up and get back to video games.
"I knew when I saw him he hadn't done anything. I had a rep back then, y'know? No one'd be talking shit about me if they weren't looking for a fight, and this kid hadn't thrown fists in his life. He looked terrified just talkin' to me. It was pretty pathetic, actually. Felt kinda bad for him. Was gonna just walk away until he smiled at me."
Axel frowned again, staring at his feet. He'd never put this into words before. Still wasn't sure if he should. He probably shouldn't. The moment he said it he was probably gonna fuck this up and scare one of the only real friends he'd made off for good. But keeping his goddamn mouth shut wasn't one of his finer attributes.
"... I felt somethin', y'know? Like I... I'd never really felt before. Like I heard other dudes talk about feeling about girls. Y'know?"
He'd know.
He hadn't. Not ever. Not even to Hel, and he'd talked to Hel about most things, but this particular thing overwhelmed him so badly with hot shame that he couldn't face them with it. And there was no one else he'd ever cared to tell. His school had recommended therapy when he was expelled, but his parents said he didn't have to go if he didn't want to, so he didn't. The only thing they'd mandated was some bullshit scare-em-straight program that basically boiled down to making him and some other young delinquents look at some prisoners and going "you don't want to end up like that, straighten up your act kid," blah blah blah whatever. What he'd actually done, let alone why, didn't seem to matter to anyone. All that mattered was that he'd done something wrong.
His parents helped, sort of. They trusted that he wanted to do better, found him better outlets for his energy, bought him his guitar. They hadn't pried into the incident, and he hadn't told them anything. But he'd been able to bury it, and for years that had been good enough. What the hell was the point in talking about it now? The smart thing to do would be to shut the fuck up and get back to video games.
"I knew when I saw him he hadn't done anything. I had a rep back then, y'know? No one'd be talking shit about me if they weren't looking for a fight, and this kid hadn't thrown fists in his life. He looked terrified just talkin' to me. It was pretty pathetic, actually. Felt kinda bad for him. Was gonna just walk away until he smiled at me."
Axel frowned again, staring at his feet. He'd never put this into words before. Still wasn't sure if he should. He probably shouldn't. The moment he said it he was probably gonna fuck this up and scare one of the only real friends he'd made off for good. But keeping his goddamn mouth shut wasn't one of his finer attributes.
"... I felt somethin', y'know? Like I... I'd never really felt before. Like I heard other dudes talk about feeling about girls. Y'know?"
He'd know.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
Ah.
Yeah. Andy knew.
Not in the sense that he'd ever felt that kind of thing himself. He'd wondered from time to time, especially after Hel came out to him. Thought about the times when he was probably acting shitty and whether there was anything behind that besides the environment he'd grown up in. Obviously he valued his best friend over the rest, but that meant examining some things he'd said and done and that it was still instinct to say and do just because that was how it had always been. It had made sense at some point to stop and think, shit, would I ever get with a guy? He'd come to a pretty sound 'no' conclusion, and that had been that.
Axel looked more conflicted now than Andy had ever felt about it, so that pretty clearly wasn't settled here. Being honest? Andy had no fucking clue where to start unraveling this can of worms, but he'd gone and thrown himself headfirst into the friendship abyss now, and there was no backing out of the conversation without probably ruining whatever they might have going on here.
"I mean, that's, uh..." Andy rubbed the back of his neck, partly because his fingers were still slightly cool from the glass of melting ice cubes and felt good, but mostly just to move. "Well like, I was gonna say that's okay if that's how you feel but like obviously it's not okay that you just punched a guy over that, but I mean-" Was this going anywhere? No? Okay.
"Like if you want to kiss a dude though, it's no big deal? It's 2015, man. Lots of people are gay." Andy delivered his point with all the grace of a faceplant and half-expected Axel's fist in his face to accompany it.
Yeah. Andy knew.
Not in the sense that he'd ever felt that kind of thing himself. He'd wondered from time to time, especially after Hel came out to him. Thought about the times when he was probably acting shitty and whether there was anything behind that besides the environment he'd grown up in. Obviously he valued his best friend over the rest, but that meant examining some things he'd said and done and that it was still instinct to say and do just because that was how it had always been. It had made sense at some point to stop and think, shit, would I ever get with a guy? He'd come to a pretty sound 'no' conclusion, and that had been that.
Axel looked more conflicted now than Andy had ever felt about it, so that pretty clearly wasn't settled here. Being honest? Andy had no fucking clue where to start unraveling this can of worms, but he'd gone and thrown himself headfirst into the friendship abyss now, and there was no backing out of the conversation without probably ruining whatever they might have going on here.
"I mean, that's, uh..." Andy rubbed the back of his neck, partly because his fingers were still slightly cool from the glass of melting ice cubes and felt good, but mostly just to move. "Well like, I was gonna say that's okay if that's how you feel but like obviously it's not okay that you just punched a guy over that, but I mean-" Was this going anywhere? No? Okay.
"Like if you want to kiss a dude though, it's no big deal? It's 2015, man. Lots of people are gay." Andy delivered his point with all the grace of a faceplant and half-expected Axel's fist in his face to accompany it.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
Axel snorted, cracking his knuckles by pressing them into the ground. "Anyone ever tell you you're maybe not great at the whole tactfulness thing?" Not that he could talk.
"No, dude, I'm not gay. Like, I like girls. Obviously."
It was weird, actually. He wanted to say that should be obvious, all things considered, but he realized he hadn't actually talked to Andy about girls, like, at all. Considering party hookups had become such a major part of his life you'd think he'd bring it up more, but it just didn't really feel like it mattered, not outside of the heat of the moment. Chasing girls was a fun party game, yeah, but that was all it was. Compared to the weight that had been pressing down on him, the guilt, the butterflies that bubbled up in his stomach that day when that boy had dared to look at him that way—it was meaningless. But he did enjoy it, that was the important thing. He liked girls. He liked fucking them, anyway, and that was what mattered, right?
He wasn't gay. It felt strange to hear the word he'd been trying to avoid for so long. He'd thrown punches for it, before, but now it just hung in the air, uncomfortable, weighty.
"... I dunno, man. I just kinda keep hoping I'll wake up and it'll have gone away."
"No, dude, I'm not gay. Like, I like girls. Obviously."
It was weird, actually. He wanted to say that should be obvious, all things considered, but he realized he hadn't actually talked to Andy about girls, like, at all. Considering party hookups had become such a major part of his life you'd think he'd bring it up more, but it just didn't really feel like it mattered, not outside of the heat of the moment. Chasing girls was a fun party game, yeah, but that was all it was. Compared to the weight that had been pressing down on him, the guilt, the butterflies that bubbled up in his stomach that day when that boy had dared to look at him that way—it was meaningless. But he did enjoy it, that was the important thing. He liked girls. He liked fucking them, anyway, and that was what mattered, right?
He wasn't gay. It felt strange to hear the word he'd been trying to avoid for so long. He'd thrown punches for it, before, but now it just hung in the air, uncomfortable, weighty.
"... I dunno, man. I just kinda keep hoping I'll wake up and it'll have gone away."
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."