Chapter Text
"I need a fake date," Alex says the moment he walks in, letting himself fall down on the armchair.
Reggie's head shoots up from where he is lying on the floor next to the couch, hitting the leg of the coffee table in the process. Luke looks up from his songbook at the whine Reggie lets out.
"Why would you need a fake date?" Reggie asks, rubbing over the sore spot. Luke kicks his shoulder blade softly, grinning down at him. Reggie sticks his tongue out, before turning back at Alex, who is looking more distressed with each passing second. Reggie stares at him with increasing worry, missing the way Luke pokes at Bobby, who is listening to music on a Discman. He pushes his headphones off his ears just as Alex continues,
"It’s my family's annual Christmas party. Last year I was able to skip out at the last minute, but my parents told me if I did that again, I can expect to not live there much longer.”
“They'll kick you out?” Bobby asked, interrupting Alex.
“They said so and I know they would. I could hear them in the months they were ignoring me, talking about what to do with me,” Alex continues, starting to sound desperate. He throws his head back, hitting the backrest hard. Reggie winches at the sound. "And if I don't bring a date, they will pair me up with a girl, maybe even go as far as marriage."
"Marriage?" Reggie says, his voice shrill and loud. Bobby pushes himself upright and Luke closes his notebook, telling him he is not alone in his reaction.
"Yeah," Alex sighs, peeking shortly at him before his head falls back again, “not immediately of course, but they think the gayness will magically–” he makes jazz hands–“disappear when I find the right girl.”
"What the hell," Luke says winded, "when is it?”
Alex shakes his head, as if able to read Luke’s mind.
“They would know we would be faking it though,” Alex sighs, miserable. “They know we dated before.”
Luke mutters a curse under his breath, opening and closing his notebook, before throwing it over Reggie’s head at the coffee table. He misses.
Bobby shrugs, but his shoulders stay unnaturally tense, "My mom would kill me if I'm not with her on Christmas, I’m so sorry dude."
Alex shakes his head, turning to look at Reggie with pleading eyes. Reggie scrambles further upright.
"Yeah, of course man," he says, the words not passing a single filter on their way out. “Of course I’ll be your date for Christmas.”
Alex smiles at him relieved, and Reggie gets a good look at the watery redness in Alex's eyes and the way his hands are shaking. He almost hits the coffee table again as he shoots up, pulling Alex out of the chair and into a hug. The first second Alex stands frozen, but then he wraps his arms around him tightly, moving closer. Reggie holds on, the boy trembling in his arms, his ragged breath muffled by the way he presses his face against Reggie’s flannel.
“It’s going to be alright,” Reggie mutters into Alex’s hair, trying to sooth him, making slow circles on his back. “Everything is okay.”
“I think we should cancel band practise for toda–” Luke's sentence is cut off by the whimper Alex lets out. He pushes himself more against Reggie, crawling into himself.
“Let’s watch a movie instead,” Bobby pipes up, passing them to get to the loft. His eyes meet Reggie’s and he tilts his head, a silent question. Reggie gives him the thumbs up, keeping up the flow of soft reassurances.
“Yeah, let’s,” Luke says, placing his hand on Reggie's shoulder, squeezing. He moves back, the sound of him pulling out the couch loud as metal scraps over the concrete floor.
Reggie pulls Alex down with himself as he lays down on the couch. Alex curls up, clinging onto him. Luke and Bobby move around them, setting up the movie. When the intro music starts playing, Alex releases the deathgrip he has on Reggie’s flannel, blood returning to his knuckles. Luke lays his hand down over Alex’s as he and Bobby settle on either side of them. By the time the movie begins, Alex’s breathing has calmed down. His muscles visibly relax.
Around twenty minutes into the movie Alex softly starts snoring, his head resting in the crook of Reggie’s neck. Bobby turns the volume even lower, the wonky words of the subtitles the only tell about what the characters are saying. Reggie softly brushes through Alex's hair, removing knots with gentle fingers.
After an hour Bobby detaches himself from the couch, sending them an apologetic smile. ‘Job’ he mouths, before he packs up his guitar. Alex stirs briefly, his back now exposed to the cold air.
“Good luck,” Reggie whispers, as Bobby puts on his jacket.
He smiles at them a last time before closing the doors softly. Alex unconsciously curls more around him, pushing his nose against Reggie’s collar.
“You think they would really kick him out?” Reggie whispers, glancing down at Alex's relaxed face, before looking at Luke. The pained look in Luke’s eyes tells him enough. Still, he waits, hoping for Luke to tell him otherwise.
“It’s going to be all right, Reg,” Luke says instead, placing his arm around his shoulder, leaning against him. Reggie smiles up at him, but it doesn’t feel right. He drops his smile. “I have to go soon,” Luke says, glancing at Alex. He gently pulls his hand out of Alex’s loose grasp.
“Your parents?” Reggie asks.
Luke nods, pushing himself off the couch, slipping his feet into his shoes.
“Do you want to keep watching, because otherwise I’ll put everything away,” Luke asks, pointing at the movie with his thumb.
“Nah, I honestly have no idea what is happening at all.”
“I think none of us did.”
Reggie chuckles at that, and Luke grins at him proudly. The movie stops abruptly, not that Reggie pays it any attention. He watches Alex move as he breaths, calm and steady, only glancing up when Luke steps close again.
“I’m going to go, don’t make it too late, because you still have to get home.”
Reggie nods, fatigue washing over him. He yawns.
“Exactly,” Luke smiles, pushing his guitar bag higher on his back, hand on the handle of the door, “Will you be alright?”
Reggie knows Luke is talking about more than them getting home, but he decides to only respond to that part. “I will.”
“Goodnight,” Luke says, opening the door.
“Goodnight.”
Luke smiles at him a last time before the door falls shut. Alex stirs, and Reggie watches him wake up, looking up at him with blurry eyes.
“Did you sleep well?” Reggie asks softly.
Alex nods, pushing himself up further to rub in his eyes. Reggie mourns the loss of contact, before sitting up himself. “Where’re the rest?” Alex mutters, straightening his hoodie.
“Bobby had work and Luke just left a second ago,” Reggie says. “We should probably get going too.” He stands up, offering his hand to Alex. He takes it, who lets himself be pulled up.
By the time he has grabs his bass guitar, Alex is more awake.
“Let’s go.” Reggie says, holding the door open for Alex. Alex doesn’t say anything when he turns to walk in the direction of Alex’s house instead of his own.
“Should we?” Reggie asks awkwardly, slipping his hand in Alex’s anyways. They both come to a halt when he does, a couple of meters from the nearest streetlight. Alex stares down at their hands, before looking up at him.
“I mean, if we’re dating and I’m bringing you home, we should hold hands right?” Reggie asks, feeling his cheeks heat up. He chuckles, but it doesn’t sound right even to his own ears.
“Yeah.” Alex glances down again. Seconds turn into minutes, but he doesn’t continue.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he clears his throat. “You’re right.” He intertwines their fingers, resuming walking. Reggie follows, his cheeks flustered.
“We should talk things through and make a plan, so when people ask anything, we both say the same,” Alex says suddenly, glancing at him from the corner of his eye.
"Like our relationship background, but made up?"
Alex nods in response.
“So when did we get together?” Reggie asks, turning so he is walking backwards in front of Alex, still holding onto his hand.
“It can’t be too long ago, but also not too short.”
“Dude, that is not helping,” Reggie laughs, an ease taking over.
Alex shrugs his shoulders, a smile finding a way onto his lips as well.
“Okay, but what do you think of half a week after thanksgiving, so no one can ask why you didn’t say anything then.”
“Okay nice, but how did we get together?” Alex retorts, speaking like it is a challenge, the corner of his mouth twisting up.
“Uhmm, well I clearly asked you out, because you wouldn’t do it.”
“Hey!” Alex says, insulted, “I ain’t a coward.”
“Sure, sure,” Reggie says, rolling his eyes. “You can be the one that asked me out if you feel so offended by it.” He laughs, sticking his tongue out at Alex when he lets out an exaggerated grasp, placing his hand over his heart.
“You’re being so mean, don’t know if I want you as my fake date anymore.”
“I’m giving you what you want, and you threaten me with this,” Reggie breathes out, playing hurt.
"I think I'm fully in my rights," Alex says, pulling on Reggie’s hand, causing him to stumble. Reggie smashes against him, causing them to almost fall backwards. Alex is able to keep them standing, his arm around his waist. His hand is hot against his skin where his jacket had ridden up.
“You good?” Alex asks, his face so close that Reggie could count his lashes. Alex’s cheeks are as red as his own feel, his skin burning under Alex’s fingers.
“Yeah,” Reggie breathes, unable to move away. Alex's eyes are warm, contrasting with the sharp blue light that illuminates him from behind, creating a halo around him. The corner of Alex’s lip twists up, as he smiles down at him. Reggie’s mind draws a blank, as he just stares up at him, unable to form any thoughts.
“Good,” Alex mutters.
The wind drags past them, causing Reggie to shiver. He blinks, suddenly becoming awfully aware of how close they really are. Alex seems to realize at the same time, letting go of his waist and stepping back, face as pink as his hoodie.
Reggie swallows thickly, shoving all the thoughts that rush back to him deep down. He pulls on Alex’s hand that is still in his, even when it is warm and clammy, causing them to start walking again.
Reggie’s heart is loud in his ears when they come to a halt before the entrance of Alex’s house. “How do we tell your parents, you know, that I’m your date?” He keeps his eyes trained on the house. Once it had been welcoming and bright, but that isn’t the case anymore.
Alex shakes his head, face morphed into a form of fear as he glances between the dark living room window and his sneakers.
"I can kiss your cheek," Reggie whispers as he leans closer, squeezing Alex's hand softly.
"My parents will see," Alex whispers back, looking back at the black gaping squares that are the windows. They both know his parents are there; they just can't see them. They learned from Luke’s mistake.
"I know, that’s the point."
"Okay."
Reggie leans even closer, softly brushing his lips over Alex's cheek, the door opens almost immediately, causing Alex to jump back in reflex.
Alex's father makes his way down to them with broad, angry steps.
"Sir," Reggie says as a form of greeting, wanting to step in front of Alex.
"Reginald," he says cold, his eyes scanning over him, leaving Reggie squeezing Alex’s hand tighter. He sees the movement. His eyes focus on their still intertwined hands, before he looks up at Alex with dissatisfaction. Alex tries to let go of Reggie's hand, but Reggie holds on.
"I assume that he will be joining us for Christmas," he asks Alex, merely suggesting that it is a question.
The boy sinks into himself at his father's voice, squeezing Reggie's hand hard. "Yeah," Alex clears his throat, glancing sideways at Reggie, "yes, he would like to come too, if that's possible."
"As long as there isn't any inappropriate behaviour and you will behave accordingly, I see no reason not to," he says, sounding like he would rather choke than to let Reggie be there.
Alex's father doesn’t gives him a second glance when he says. "Don't bother with gifts." Then he turns around, walking back towards the house.
"That means I need to buy them gifts and they won't buy me anything right?" Reggie whispers, breaking the silence.
"Yeah," Alex says, his eyes on his father's back until the door slams shut.
Reggie flinches, his hand falling out of Alex’s, finding the edge of his flannel instead. "Man, I hate your father."
"Yeah,” Alex sighs. “Me too."