Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s really no secret to anyone that high school sucks. Hard. And it does not suck any less when you’re not even supposed to be there. Nigel wasn’t supposed to be here, he was supposed to be at home, in Bucharest, with the rest of his family, where he belonged. He’d tried to fit in, here, in America. He’d made friends and survived two long years here. Which is why he was devastated when he and his mother was called in for a meeting only to be told that he would not be able to graduate with the grades he was getting. This was the final year and he needed to get through it, desperately.

He was a confident person, rarely embarrassed by anything, but the look his mother shot him after made him want to dig himself deep into the earth’s core and incinerate.

He struggled with school, that was no secret he kept. He distracted himself from the fact with sex and alcohol, unfunny, vulgar jokes with his friends. PE was really the only thing he could do. He was good at physical movement and he enjoyed the break he got from the understimulating classes of the week. It was sweaty and filled with dirty teenagers and unwashed clothes, but it was the only time he was allowed to run around and not have to worry about the impending doom of his failing future as a high school student. Which is also why he was extra pissed off when some fucking dickhead decided to trip him resulting in a fist to the face.

He was lucky the gym teacher didn’t see the whole thing, he supposed, even though it was well deserved. Still when Mr. Allen saw the aftermath of their encounter, the bitch staring at Nigel in shock as he towered over him, Nigel was the one to get sent to bleachers with a warning.

Nigel stormed off with a scoff, stomping his way over to the seats encompassing the room. When he looked up, he saw a silhouette and decided to do the charity of gifting the person his company. He didn’t want to spend the rest of class sitting alone moping anyway.

He made his way over to the boy in blue, sweater tucked into his pants and a dark collar peeking out from the hem. His eyes were wide, staring at him wildly as he got closer. Quickly his piercing eyes darted to the book he was forcefully gripping in his hands, pretending to read over the lines. He sat down a good few feet away from the boy, still he shuffled away and curled in on himself, turning his legs to face the wall. Nigel didn’t think he’d ever been rejected that fast, at least not while he was trying to make an effort to converse.

His eyes roamed over his from, the other practically shaking under his gaze. He guessed he couldn’t blame him after what he’d just witnessed. He thought for a second, didn’t he recognize him? his awkward presence and nerdy attire. Something… Roark? Raki? Yeah that must’ve been it. He was odd, not just different, straight up abnormal. Nigel rarely saw him around campus but when he did, he always carried a sort of gloominess. Always alone, nose buried in some book or deeply concentrated on his studies. A wicked idea slipped into his mind.

Raki clearly wasn’t reading, and by this point, he’d started to relax. His shoulders were no longer hunched, eyes no longer wild and afraid, but instead staring absentmindedly ahead. Nigel followed his line of sight and saw a group of girls giggling in the corner, clearly not interested in the education they were supposed to be receiving. He took in their forms, the shape of their bodies, their pretty faces and bouncy hair. Watched them gossip and tell jokes, smooth out their skirts. They were cheerleaders, Nigel knew, and kept to their own little clique. He glanced back at Raki, still ogling the girls. “They’re pretty aren’t they?,” he said, loud enough so the other knew it was addressed to him. The boy almost flinched at his words, snapping his head to look at the source of the sound. He looked around for a second begore realizing that it was indeed meant for him. “Huh?,” he said intelligently and Nigel repeated himself, “They’re pretty.” He glanced at the girls and Raki copied the motion. “Oh,” was all he got and Nigel wondered for a second if this was really the guy who was supposedly so smart. “Yeah.” He fidgeted with the corners of his book, flipping through the pages and running his hand along the textured paper.

“Which one you got your eye on?,” he urged, feeling an irritation bubble up inside him.

“What?”

 Nigel almost rolled his eyes. “Which one do you like?”

The boy furrowed his brows, thinking for a moment before looking at Nigel, still he couldn’t seem to catch his eye genuinely. “Why do you care?” He was a little taken aback by that, although it was a fair question and he looked genuine. He couldn’t hold it against him. “I can help you talk to her. You’re always alone, aren’t you?”

“I guess.” His gaze dropped to his lap and Nigel watched him play with the papers in his hands for a few moments. He moved closer to him and gave him a wide grin, showing off his nicotine stained teeth. “Come on, I’ll share a secret if you share yours.” At this point he was genuinely getting curious. To know the secrets of this quiet, reserved boy. To see him human, as he realized he was more than a try-hard robot with no life beyond his education. Raki quickly shut that down. “I don’t care about your secret, that sounds like a horrible exchange,” he deadpanned and Nigel deflated. There went his  chance of satisfying his curiosity as well as maybe, kind of manipulating his way into a graduation sometime next year.

The silence between them was interrupted by a loud smack of someone throwing a ball to the ground and Raki flinched whole bodily, arms jerking, his shoulders reaching his ears as he curled in on himself. Nigel’s eyes shot to where the sound originated and the quiet that followed after was somehow worse in awkwardness. He spread his legs further apart and relaxed against the seats behind him. He wondered briefly if he should attempt another shot at conversation or simply prepare to spend the rest of class in silence. The younger stopped his train of thought before it got very far by saying, “Beth.”

Nigel blinked. He turned to face him. “Buchwald??,” he blurted out. He got a hum in response and followed where Raki was looking. She was in the middle of the group, full lips ticked into a smile and dark strands of hair, fallen out of her pony, framing her face. She was pretty, no doubt. With thin eyebrows, unlike the beauty standard, beautiful, deep brown eyes and a straight nose speckled with freckles. “Ah,” he said, “Nice tits.” He gave a final once over and smirked at the other boy who barely acknowledged his words.

Beth was beautiful, yes, and Nigel wasn’t wrong when he commented on her body. But Beth was more than that. She was different from the others. She was always nice and warm, and she smiled at him in the hallways, greeting him as if he wasn’t a stranger. As if he wasn’t the odd one out. She was a little clumsy, and maybe not the most talented on the cheer team, definitely not cheer captain worthy. But she was confident in herself, always laughing off any stumbles along the way, smiling with her friends, rosy cheeks full with joy. She was smart and considerate, always putting others first, always happy to help in any way she could.

And pretty.

So very, extremely pretty that Adam couldn’t take his eyes off her. He liked her a lot.

The older boy laughed loudly and smacked him on the back, pulling Adam out of his thoughts. He almost doubled over in response to the force, tugging his shoulders closer around his ears. “Oh, shit.” Adam didn’t appreciate people who swore excessively.

“Please don’t touch me,” he said quietly, yet sternly enough for the other to immediately pull away and apologize.

“Right, sorry,” he grimaced and put a little more space between them.

Adam knew who he was, he knew most people at school, even if they didn’t know him. His brain was good at storing information. A little too good.

Nigel Banyai, an exchange student from the Balkans, evident in his crisp accent. He was rough and not afraid to start a fight, a good reason to be afraid of him. He smelled strongly of cigarettes and stale coffee, bathed in cheap cologne in a sad attempt to cover it up.

“Oh well, tit for tat.” Nigel leaned closer to Adam once more, grin plastered on his face. He felt compelled to pinch his nose at the sheer strength of the concoction of smells Nigel had managed to put on. He wasn’t really interested in any tit for his tat. Nigel gave him it anyway. “Once Gabi, my ex,” he started, and Adam was already disinterested, “was blowing me in the bathroom at some party and some dude comes knocking. Obviously, I told him to fuck off but the asshole just kept on fucking banging on that door. I just thought he really needed to shit, right? And I was about to blow my load, man. Anyway,” Nigel lowers his voice, “he kicks down the door, it was a terrible fucking lock, it turns out, and in comes her fucking dad.” He laughs loudly, a hardy belly laugh that earns several looks from the rest of the room. Adam shrinks. “Apparently her dad found out she’d snuck out and came to pick up the whore.” At this point, he could barely get out the words as his laughs turned into snorts between words. Adam’s frown deepened with each one.

He knew critiquing others was rude, and he knew critiquing this specific person was asking for punch to the face, however his emotions became too strong for him to control and he stared intensely down at his book as he said, “Isn’t it kind of shitty to talk about her like that?” He really wasn’t one to curse but he felt it suited the situation best here. Nigel only laughed in response, fueling his growing desire to get as far away from this boy as he could.

“You worry too much, Raki,” Nigel tried out the word. He got no reaction and continued, “No, we’re on good terms. We broke up a little while after I left Romania.” Ah, there was the accent placed. “She fucked some lăbar while we were long distance, the slut.” He laughed with that last bit and Adam grew more uncomfortable with every second. He desperately wanted to leave, yet he felt glued to the spot, fear blooming inside him. his palms were turning sweaty and he felt the pages indent with moisture under his fingers. He tried to ignore the other, instead focusing on Beth in front of him. He was sure he could look at her, think of her for days without ever getting bored. He wondered about her interests, she liked kids, he knew. He didn’t himself. He wondered about her flaws and imperfections. Wondered about what preoccupied her mind. Wondered what it would be like to date her.

He almost forgot about Nigel’s looming presence. “So does she know?,” said Nigel, staring ahead. “Know what?”

“That you’re fucking into her. That you want to fuck her tits.” He gestured with his arms to get his point across. Adam furrowed his brows. “I don’t want to fuck her tits.”

“That’s a mistake on your part.” The older boy leaned back again.

“Oh,” was all Adam said in response.

Another moment of silence passed and Nigel turned to look at him, looking at his curiously. “So does she know that you like her?,” he repeated, “Have you asked her out?”

Adam appreciated the clarification. “Oh right,” he said simply.

Then, “No.”

“Why not? You’re a handsome guy, Raki.” He smirked and moved to bump his shoulder causing Adam to flinch slightly. His eyes widened slightly before moving away from him again and laughing it off quietly.

“I don’t think that’s my problem.” He looked back at Beth longingly, she was wiping stray hairs off her face. He was right, Adam knew he wasn’t unattractive at all, even if people thought it was rude to think that way. He had other problems though, a whole bunch of them. “I don’t know how to talk to girls. Or anyone, for that matter,” he continued.

“You’re talking to me right now,” said Nigel with a smile. Adam shot him a look and his face dropped a little. Fair enough.

“Hey, I’ll help you get the girl of your dreams.”

Adam was taken aback. “What? Why??”

“Because you want her, bad.” That much wasn’t untrue.

“Yeah, but what’s in it for you?,” Adam asked. This whole encounter had been hella weird from the start and he was beginning to feel exhausted. Interaction with others generally had that effect on him. “What? Oh yeah.” Nigel looked genuinely confused on why he started this conversation in the first place. He perched his head on his fist. “Tit for tat,” it seemed he really enjoyed that phrase, “Hmm, you’re good at school, right?”

Adam wasn’t sure he was ‘good’ at school, he hated the place most of the time. The schedule and teachers were alright, it was the people, the other students, that were the problem. “I get good grades,” he decided on, “Mainly science and math. Why?”

“I’m failing.”

“Oh.”

This was the problem with other students.

“I’m sorry?,” he tried awkwardly when Nigel eyed him with and expectant look. Adam stared right back, or well, at the perimeter of his left ear.

“I’m not giving you any answers,” said Adam finally after a few moments of silence and he watched Nigel raise his brows in response.

“No, Raki, I want you to help me study.”

Now it was Adam’s turn to look at him in shock.

______________________

The rest of school was spent in a haze of confusion and thoughts so many and wild that he could not finish one before moving onto the next. On the train ride home, he tried his best to focus on his book, to prepare for school on Monday and to distract himself by any means possible. He ended up listening halfheartedly in on a conversation two girls were having beside him, it was usually too crowded this time of day for him to concentrate on reading anyway. He got off at his stop and brushed his hands over his clothes, trying to get the sensation of strangers pushing against him off his skin as he checked he'd remembered everything he needed, his backpack and keys, which he found immediately in his pocket.

Usually, he spent the weekend trying his best to relax and mentally get ready for another five days of teens moving about around him, but he was afraid this time all he would be able to think of was the strange encounter with the delinquent he'd only seen outside smoking with his friends. On the plus side, Adam thought, at least he wouldn’t have to see Nigel again until Monday. He quickly felt queasy at the thought of having to talk to him though.

He relaxed slightly when he saw his apartment complex and quickly rushed to open the door. The warm afternoon breeze was nice after having to spend half an hour cramped in a train compartment, but after the day he had, he wanted nothing more than to sit at home and try to distract himself. He walked up the stairs and unlocked the door his apartment, closing it behind him after he'd went inside. “Adam?,” his dad called out and he responded with a “Yep,” before throwing his keys in the dish they kept by the entrance and going to his room.

The backpack was placed on its deemed spot by his desk and he settled on his bed, tucking his knees close, back pressed against the wall as he processed everything that had happened.

He wasn’t sure he'd gotten any further in his processing when his dad knocked on his door and called his name before opening the door and saying, “Dinner’s ready.” Adam looked as if his eyebrows had been knitted together for hours, only easing  when he ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it before it settled again in his usual side part. His father stepped aside to watch him walk out the door and followed him to the dining room. They both pulled out their chairs and sat down in front of each other in their usual spots. His dad, as always, had made macaroni and cheese with chicken and broccoli he waited for Adam to start first, which he did.

Dinner was spent in silence, Adam staring down at his plate, clearly deep in thought. “You’ve been quiet all evening,” said his father and Adam looked up, meeting his eyes briefly before settling behind him. Well, that wasn’t necessarily unlike him. “What’s on your mind?” Adam stabbed an elbow, popping it in his mouth before answering candidly. “Nigel Banyai asked if I could tutor him.”

“That’s nice,” he said, a little taken aback. Adam was a great student of course, it shouldn’t be all that surprising, but it was rare that his peers reached out to him, he was often misunderstood. Yet he couldn’t help be a little skeptical that he was being taken advantage of, again. It was not a new thing that others would ask favors of him, only for Adam to do them without a second thought with the hope of finally fitting in, maybe even making a friend.

“He said he'd help me talk to Beth if I helped him,” he explained and his father needed a few moments to register. “Beth Buchwald? The cheerleader?,” he questioned. “Yep.”

He'd told his dad many times of Beth, things going on at school (mainly regarding science class) and his interests. He told his dad everything, sometimes he said a little too much, especially when it came to his crush. Many dinners had been spent going from something space related to Beth, to then space again, his father barely able to get a word in. He didn’t mind it one bit. He learned very many things from his son, and not just science related.

“He’s strange,” said Adam bluntly, “And I know you’re not supposed to say that, but he is.” He tilted his head to the side. “He said some really weird stuff, but he has a lot of girlfriends, so he probably knows a lot about girls.”

His dad could admit he was a little concerned at those words, wondering just what kind of guy this Nigel was. He tried to shake it off, to Adam, most people were strange. Interacting with other people, especially neurotypical people who said things they didn’t mean and expected others to understand, was often confusing to him. He couldn’t blame him, he didn’t understand other people most of the time either. Besides, if Nigel was as odd as he sounded, it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, Adam would do good with other outcasts, right?

He pushed a piece of broccoli on his fork and shoved it in his mouth. “Well, I think it’s a great idea,” he said after he finished chewing. Maybe he wasn’t sure yet on his opinion on Nigel, but he wanted to be supportive of his son and it wasn’t news for anyone that Adam could get out of the house more. Sometimes he was a little concerned for him even if he tried not to be. “You’re a great student, Adam, I think you would be a great teacher too. Maybe you can even make a new friend, yeah?”

Adam didn’t look like Nigel would be a good new friend, still he looked away from his father, zoning out, clearly deep in thought about the whole ordeal. His dad didn’t feel all that thinking could be good for him, he imagined one day his head would over heat and blow right off.

After dinner, Adam did his usual routine, helping his father clean up before going to the bathroom to take a shower. He wasn’t the fondest of showering, all the changes, the feeling of his wet skin afterwards and having to dry. It all felt like too much sometimes. The routines helped though, being prepared and knowing what was coming made it easier to wrap his head around. It was also why he liked the idea of going to school even if others his age didn’t, the weekly schedules, the same classes, same teachers, same people and places. It was nice not having to worry about, though he feared what he would do after graduation. Luckily for him, his dad and him had the next year and a half to figure it out, his new routine as a junior had just started a few weeks ago.

Finally getting under the water helped the tension his body held, getting out of his clothes after a long day, the seams and cut off tags rubbing against his skin and the tightness of his button up over his chest and neck eased and he could enjoy the heat of the water easier.

He best preferred reading in the dark, so after his shower he threw on his pajamas, a worn out NASA shirt and flannel pants, drew the curtains and turned on his bedside lamp before settling on the mattress. He enjoyed books, whether school related or not, watching documentaries on space was exciting, with their pretty demonstrations and cool sounds, seeing someone talk about his interest on screen felt like finally having a conversation with someone who understood and appreciated the wonders of the universe as much as he did. But books gave him something no television screen could, they were their own worlds, sucking him in from the moment he opened the page, information flooding out through the lines from the inky black of the letters and words. When he was reading a book, he completely forgot all about his surroundings, time and people became a different reality, all there existed was him and endless knowledge. Not to mention that he could always pull out his books whenever he wanted, he didn’t always know when the next space related thing came onscreen, and if he did, he couldn’t wait for it most of the time.

Above him twinkled his neon glow in the dark stars, dull enough not to distract him from his reading. His mom gave them to him before she died. He didn’t remember much about her and he wished that he did, but he remembered the stars. Every time he turned off the lights, they would shine above him and he would think of her, feel her warmth. It was a small comfort in an uncomfortable world but he appreciated the small reminder of his mother and the feeling of home.

Reading distracted him from his racing thoughts, and he hoped he would keep them away as long as possible, fearing the time he would have to make a decision. He had a few long nights ahead of him. he hoped he would figure something out.

Chapter Text

Adam still hadn’t decided what to do. He'd spent the entire weekend thinking about it yet reached no conclusion. Tutoring Nigel, or well, helping him study, as he had phrased it, would be a great disturbance in his usual routine. Not to mention that having to spend time with another person, even for just an hour, was exhausting, especially when it came to Nigel. He didn’t even know if he could be a good teacher. He didn’t want to fail at something and he certainly didn’t want the other upset with him. On the other hand, his father was right; he rarely ever spent time with people, much less in his age group. He knew that not socializing put him behind others and he did need to learn how to do it at some point. And if he had any chance talking to Beth without weirding her out, he was in need of help, and when Nigel was offering it…

His ride to school had been more stressful than usual. He hadn’t gotten his full night of sleep and he was already stressed out from his crippling thoughts when he stepped on the train. Having others so close all around, pushing against him, certainly didn’t help. He tried his best to shake if off before making his way to campus, holding tightly onto the straps of his backpack and easing his palms over his collarbones, trying to soothe himself.

He calmed once he reached his seat, grabbing all his books and laying them out to prepare for class. He ran his hands over the seams on his jeans and waited for the teacher to arrive.

Being in the hallways was never pleasant, but focusing merely on getting from point A to point B helped. He walked quickly in a straight line, avoiding other students as best as he could, whether how difficult they made it. People rarely spoke to him unless needed, so when someone called out before him, he ducked his head and waited for the recipient to answer. As it turned out, he was the recipient. “Hey, Raki!!”

When he looked up and saw Nigel, he simply raised his shoulders higher and tried to get by quicker, acting as if he hadnt heard anything. “Hold on guys,” he said to the rest of his friend group, jogging over to Adam to get his attention. He really didn’t want to talk to him, he still wasn’t sure of what to do regarding their deal, and he still wasn’t sure of Nigel’s character.

He got close enough to Adam that it was obvious he was ignoring him if he kept walking, and he really didn’t wasn’t to piss off a guy like him. So, he turned to look at other and tried to act like he just saw him. he failed miserably. “Hey,” said Nigel, stepping up to him and walking beside him. Adam thought that was weird, he was clearly going in the other direction earlier. “I’m throwing a party at my house, Friday.” Oh, that was unexpected. Adam hoped dearly he wouldn’t bring up their past conversation. “…What for?,” he asked, since he expected it was the expected thing to do. Apparently it wasn’t.

“What for?,” Nigel quirked a brow, “It’s just a party. To get drunk and have fun, I guess?” Adam thought he sounded a little agitated. “Jeez,” he said under his breath, against his own judgement, “I thought you might be telling me cause it was your birthday or something,” he then said a little louder.

“Oh.”

“I mean, good for you, that sounds fun?” He was so, very, confused.

“I’m inviting you.”

Huh? Adam? At a party? With other people? It seemed Nigel severely misjudged his character. He was fairly sure he'd rather be eaten by the sun than go to a party. Then again, he'd never been close enough to a star to know what it would feel like. He'd never been to a party either, but from what he assumed, it couldn’t be something he enjoyed. He'd much rather stay home and study or watch TV with his dad or even simply go for a walk around the streets.

“What a weird way to invite someone to a party,” said the younger of the two, because it was true. Why couldn’t people just say what they meant? Everything would be much easier that way and there would hardly be as many misunderstandings.

Nigel laughed stupidly, “Why would I tell you if I wasn’t inviting you?”

“If I told you I was going to the bathroom, that wouldn’t be an invitation either. I would just be telling you I needed to pee.”

Nigel thought for a second. “Yeah, fair enough.”

Adam had almost made it to his next class and wondered briefly what Nigel would do, it seemed he did too, as he looked behind him hurriedly. Thankfully, Adam always got to class early. He stopped suddenly in front of the door after a few moments of silence.

“So?”

He turned around to face Nigel, looking behind him. “I don’t know where you live.”

_______________________________________

Hurrying back from Raki’s class, Nigel snuck past the crowd of lazy students in the hallway, trying to spot his friends. He hadn’t exactly been expecting for them to wait for him, but damn, they didn’t have to walk so fast. He found them again a handful of feet from his encounter with the boy.

He casually walked up to them when one looked at him and asked, “Why the fuck are you talking to that retard Adam Raki?”

Adam

He decided to ignore his choice of words and said instead, “I invited him for Friday.”

Simultaneous groans heard around the group and another said, “Man, what the fuck. Adam Raki is such a fucking weirdo, he’ll probably have a fucking spazz attack and then you’ll be the one having to deal with him.”

“Shut the fuck up, labagiu, I need him to help me study so you better fucking keep quiet, he still hasn’t answered me.”

“You? Studying? With that fucking fag?”

Nigel concealed any hurt and anger that statement caused. Sure, he wasn’t the best at studying and he didn’t exactly get the best grades, but he wasn’t dumb, he was just… distracted easily. Truth be told, he'd never had much hope for the future, deciding to live in the moment and postpone any responsibilities to the next day, or next time he had motivation, which turned out to be never. Apparently procrastinating your future wasn’t the best idea he'd had and now he was paying the price.

“Anything to help me graduate from this shithole, I’m leaving you all behind next year, you know?” he kept facing forward. He hoped sincerely that were true, crossing everything that could be crossed for Adam to help him.

Darko, who had been silent the entire time, snickered, acting as if that was entirely unbelievable. Ironic coming from the guy who rarely ever attended a class fully sober.

___________________________

It seemed Nigel was fixed on occupying every thought of Adam’s, it was starting to get concerning at that point. His obsession was honestly beginning to feel creepy, he'd never had that many conversations with a single person over the span of four days as he head this stranger, at least not that he remembered. Still, his routines stayed the same and when he got home, the first thing he did was write Nigel’s address in his notebook. He was not yet sure whether he'd be attending, it seemed like a recipe for disaster, but he knew that if he did not get the numbers down on paper, it would continue to plague him and they would only read repeatedly in a sequence over and over in his mind and he would find no rest. With the address jotted down, he could finally relax and sit down to study. If he were to help Nigel, it was vital that he at least be prepared for there was nothing worse than being unprepared.

When he confided in his father he got exactly the response he expected. He told Adam that getting out would be a great idea, that he needed to take a break from studying and that it would be good for him to be around people his age and to finally “Act like a kid.” It was something his father told him often and it didn’t make any more sense whenever he repeated it. He'd decided to just ignore it instead.

He supposed he was right, though, he'd never really given other kids a chance, he hadn’t been given one from them either, but it meant he really didn’t actually know what the outcome would be. Changes were scary, people were unpredictable, but speaking from merely and analytical standpoint, he couldn’t be certain of a result before he'd preformed tests. And while previous encounters told him what to expect, there were other factors at play now. He was older, he knew he was not the same person as he was a few years or even months earlier, perhaps he would be able to handle it now. The polite thing was to accept, right? Especially when Nigel was offering to help him, albeit in return for his own, but he couldn’t help wonder if that was enough. Nigel was a popular kid, he could find study help elsewhere if Adam scared him off.

Besides, he wasn’t sure he'd be able to relax until he'd made a final decision, and so it was made. Adam may have thrived alone the majority of his life, the exception being his dad of course, but he wasn’t planning on living like that for the rest of it. He wanted friends, a girlfriend if possible and he needed to take some big steps if he were to accomplish that. He didn’t want to be alone.

By the time he saw Nigel again, he'd made up his mind. He would help Nigel study, whatever that entailed, and in return, hopefully, he would be able to talk to Beth afterward. He'd just finished with his lunch when he decided to go look for the boy, whom he found behind the school with his friends. He was standing in the grass under the shadow of a tree by the edge of the estate, cigarette between his fingers. The ground under his Adam’s sneakers changed going from the harsh thuds of concrete to dulled steps against the green grass. He kept to the outer perimeter, staying out of the late summer sun and keeping to the shadows instead. The light breeze kept him chill and he made his way over to the group. He'd been around smokers before, of course, he lived in the city, but he always forgot just how strong the pungent smell was. He physically recoiled as the wind suddenly acted against him, carrying the strong smell of smoke over to him. He bit at the inside of his lip, keeping steady as he finally reached the boy and the others. He could not help but feel a bit weary as his peers finally caught sight of him, not only were they taller than him but, he knew, also easily agitated. Adam wouldn’t say he was necessarily a target of bullying but he knew he wasn’t very liked among the school’s students. He could not blame them, he didn’t like them either.

Confidently, he stepped up to Nigel, it didn’t seem he saw him. “Hey, Nigel,” he said and a boy with dark hair, a little shorter than Nigel, but definitely not weaker, elbowed him. “I can-,” was all he got out before the other finally noticed him and calmly said, “Oh hey, Adam, let’s go someplace else.”

He didn’t say anything when Nigel grabbed around his arm, much to his surprise, and dragged him away. “It’s just about your studie-,” he said, confused, before he was interrupted again. He really didn’t like being interrupted, it was very rude. He knew because he did it himself and people got upset. He understood why.

“Yeah, I know, let’s just go somewhere… quieter.” He looked back at the large tree behind them and Adam cocked a brow. “We’re outside?”

The older finally let go as they settled somewhere in the shade and Adam wiped off the touch with his palm. It seemed it was then he remembered Adam’s opinion on physical touch. Neither of them commented on it, instead Adam said, “You’re not supposed to smoke on campus.” He eyed the cigarette in his hand. “Oh, but the thrill of it just makes it that more exciting.” Nigel smiled at him and Adam looked back in disapproval. He sighed then. “I can make time for you on Saturdays,” he said, changing the topic. Okay, there it was, he'd laid it out loud, there was no turning back now. He hoped (and feared) he'd just secured a turn for his future, whether good or bad. He was right.

“What? Can’t we just do it whenever we both have time?” Oh, absolutely not. This couldn’t be just a random thing whenever their schedules aligned, this was already a major change, not knowing when the next session would be would break him, he was sure. “No. Saturdays.” He held firm and Nigel exhaled heavily. “Well, okay, then. Should we just meet at Brushes? Next Saturday?” Brushes, also known as Brews & Brushes Café, was a place close enough to campus that most people knew of it, yet too far for most to visit before school. Adam had been there with his father a couple of times, never for long though. It may not have been the busiest café, but it was still one, nonetheless. It was cozy enough, he supposed. They kept the lights low, which he appreciated, it was the noise which posed the pain problem. Customers chatting, the dragging of chairs against the floor, the hiss of the espresso machine. No, it was in no way fitted for him to spend more than a couple minutes in. He was sure things would end even worse there than they were on track for. “No, it has to be someplace quiet…” Hold on a minute, did he say? “Wait, this week?”

This was the first time he was actually facing Nigel and now he could see his face fully as he looked over his figure in surprise. He wore high waisted jeans and an untucked, short sleeved button up, stopping midway of his biceps. His hair was a dirty blonde, his bangs short enough to hang in front of his eyes without covering them, while still long being long enough to be tucked away behind his ear. He looked a little older than he actually was. Adam suspected he only had a few years on him but the harsh contours of his face made the gap seem bigger. That along with the way he carried himself and spoke, he supposed.

As a kid, Adam had always been told he seemed years beyond his age, that he was an old soul in a small body and that his intellect impressed others. As he grew older, people stopped noticing out his smarts and started pointing out where he lacked in comparison to others his age. That he didn’t socialize enough, that he didn’t know appropriate from inappropriate conversations, that he couldn’t catch social clues, like when people wanted him to stop talking, and that he overreacted over small things. He liked who he was and he liked the routines he lived with, but sometimes he wondered what it would be like to be normal. He wondered if someone like Nigel was happier than him because he understood what he did not.

When he dared flicker his eyes over to Nigel’s, he saw deep brow irises, much unlike his own blue ones. They seemed almost calm from under relaxed lids, not as intimidating as bright, staring eyes were. The intensity and confidence beneath that made up for that and he quickly looked away again.

“Yeah, it would be best to start ASAP, my grades are fucking shit, Adam. Shit.” For some reason he didn’t doubt that.

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Okay, I guess I’ll-“ Nigel spoke over him again and he felt a jitter in his hands. Why did this have to be so difficult? Nothing was going how he'd imagined.

“Actually, Saturday would be fucking terrible with hangovers and stuff. Can we just do Sunday? Just once, I swear.” Nigel didn’t exactly look like someone who kept his promises.

“No, Sundays are for studying and preparing for the next week. No people at all,” Adam said. Weekends were the only break he got from the crowds everywhere, from conversations where he needed to constantly beware of how he was coming off and to make sure he was being polite and pretty. Sundays were the only time where he could relax without doing anything at all. It was his only break during the week.

“Wait, you study on the weekends?,” Nigel said.

“Do you not?,” he questioned back in disbelief.

“No.”

Oh, well, okay then. He supposed that added up. They looked at each other for a bit, both quiet, Nigel’s eyes trying to catch his, which were glued to the green grass by the other’s shoes. The occasional clover sprung out from between the strands and while spring flowers were beginning to wilt, bellis flowers still stood proud in the fields. He studied the long white pedals, occasionally brushed by a purplish pink. He wondered if Beth liked flowers.

“What about Thursday?,” said Nigel finally and Adam looked up at his mouth. “The day after tomorrow?” he furrowed his brows. His dad might be right that he could get wrinkles soon. It wasn’t his fault people were confusing.

“No, next year.” Yep, confusing.

“You just said you wanted this as soon as possible?”

The other exhaled sharply. “Yes, of course the fucking day after tomorrow. Is that fine?” He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked a hip. Adam thought it over. It was awfully soon, but he supposed it was what he signed up for. “Okay then. We’ll meet at the school library at exactly three PM.” He thought that over too, “Or well not exactly three PM, that would be impossible, but as soon as you can, right after school, okay?”

Nigel eased. “Okay. Thanks, Raki,” he grimaced. Why was he so set on using his last name? Should he be calling Nigel by his last name? He thought that was weird.

“Let’s help you get that girl.” Nigel slid his hands into his pocket and gave him a grin.

“And help you pass the 12^th grade,” he murmured.

“Fuck off.” The words were harsh coming from Nigel’s mouth but his grin only spread wider and Adam couldn’t help but return a small smirk as the older of the two sauntered away.

Well, there went his routines, officially.

___________________________

Nigel hadn’t spoken to Adam since their encounter last Tuesday. He didn’t think he had the words to express how truly grateful he was that Adam would help him out. And based on a deal where the only thing Nigel had to do was talk about a girl for a while? Score. He didn’t even have to pay him or anything. At least he hoped Adam wasn’t expecting him to pay now that he thought about it. No, he had been clear right? This was just Adam “helping” him study, not a full on tutoring. He'd decided keeping away from the odd guy had been the best way to show his gratefulness, judging by the way he acted around him. He was always straight to the point, not bothering with small talk or letting Nigel know anything about him. He never looked him straight in the eyes, always avoiding his face like he'd detonate did their eyes meet. And yet he didn’t exactly look scared or anything, it truly was a wonder.

He'd only seen him around campus on his own, head buried in his books, as he knew him. He always kept to the same places, never straying from his seat of choice, never dallying around. He supposed he'd never noticed it before, seeing as he really wasn’t one to draw attention. Even his clothes remained the same, dull earthy tones, sweaters and jeans, the occasional blue long sleeved button up with nothing over it, it was a wonder how he didn’t burn up.

It was hard not to notice him now. Whenever he walked past the boy’s usual spots, he would look up expecting to find him, and he always was, to no one’s surprise. It seemed as if his dark tops and washed jeans was now what stood out among the students, his dark black hair always neatly combed to the side, even after it received a stressed ruffle from his own hand. Still, he averted his eyes and let him keep to himself, as he obviously preferred.

Only a few days had passed since their deal had been made and it was already Thursday, day of their first meeting. He'd grabbed a few things in his arms, his books, notebooks a pencil and an eraser, it was all he remembered and walked down to the library. Adam was already there when he walked in, settled in a corner of the room, tucked away behind a bookshelf. His things were spread out on the table, his backpack resting against one of the chair legs as he shook his own, waiting for Nigel to get there.

He walked over to him quickly and pulled out the chair next to Adam. “Hey,” he said, and watched as the other turned his head to look at him, clearly ignoring the sound of the chair scraping against the floor as if he'd been fearing it was a stranger.

“Hello,” he returned and leaned over the table, his eye catching Nigel’s books, which he only then remembered as he placed them in a stack on the table.

“So, what do you need help with?” he wetted his lips and looked somewhere in Nigel’s direction. He looked much calmer here than the other times they’d spoken, even as he tapped a finger against the table top rhythmically.

“Uhh.” Everything?

Although he didn’t actually say that. He hadn’t really thought it over, too overjoyed with the prospect of graduation. He flipped through his notebook until he found something worthy. Something he actually struggled with. Adam leaned over the table, seemingly not caring about how close it put the two of them. He really was a different person here. Still, Nigel pushed the notebook over to him and Adam settled back in his chair, closer still than he had been a few seconds earlier. He smelled clean. Not of alcohol and detergents, just a simple, clean smell, like the scents of surroundings stuck to him. He wondered if he smelled like the late-august sun after he'd been outside, or like the calm wind or warm grass.

He scanned the paper and its scribbled notes and numbers, ignoring Nigel’s obscene doodles in the corners, notes and addictions to his artwork that Darko had gifted him with. His eyes stopped midway through the page and he helped himself to the notebook, grabbing his eraser and deleting whatever Nigel apparently had gotten wrong. He flipped his pencil in his hand, stopping for a second, as Nigel grabbed his own and leant back in his chair, before putting the lead against the paper and starting to write. “So, you expand both products in the numerator.” He wrote cleanly in the book, starting a new line and muttering to himself, “The first part of the numerator is,” he quickly jotted down a series of numbers before pointing to the with the sharp end of his pencil, “The second part of the numerator is, 9𝑥⁴ + 6𝑥³ + 12𝑥² 8𝑥 – 4.” His pencil slid seamlessly across the paper and Nigel’s own started tapping against his neck. “Combine the terms, subtract the second…,” he trailed off, then, “now the final derivative is…” he underlined the final answer twice and looked up and Nigel, only then realizing how close they were and scooted away.

Nigel stared at him blankly for a few moments before leaning back over the table, stopping his assault against his neck.

“Huh?,” he said intelligently.

“Wait, start again from the beginning.” Adam looked back at the notebook, going over the calculations in his mind. Cracking his knuckles, he thought it over, “Uh, so we use the quotient rule, which we apply here,” he pointed at one of the lines, “then expand,” he started tracing the numbers over with his pencil, “Subtract, simplify and that’s the final answer.” He looked up at Nigel expectingly, who, expectedly, looked like he just saw an alien fly by in its little neon green saucer. “Yeah, none of that made sense. Just- say everything you’re thinking out loud.” And without missing a beat Adam said, “That guy over there is listening to really loud music in his headphones.” He pointed at a kid a few tables away from them, “I can hear it all the way over here, I think he’s causing severe damage to his eardrums.” He looked back at Adam who then turned his head too. He was right of course, the boy must really be going deaf, he could hear it all the way from where they sat. “No, I meant everything regarding math,” he said instead, “Every calculation you make, just say it aloud. Even if it’s fucking obvious.”

Adam looked back at the equation, starting to tap his fingers again. Nigel thought they could start their own percussion band and chuckled at the idea. Then, “Okay,” Adam said, determined, thinking everything over again before starting at the beginning and telling Nigel every thought that passed during, letting him stop him periodically to go deeper or to repeat himself. Apparently Adam’s thoughts went through his head at extreme fucking speeds.

After a while, when Nigel head was about to explode and Adams voice about to give out, Nigel said, “Let’s take a break for today, yeah?” And Adam nodded, going to pack up his stuff, it had been an exhausting afternoon, even if he'd only been with Nigel for 45 minutes tops. “So,” Nigel said, his accent thick, “Tell me about Beth.” Adam turned around to face the other. Wait, they were doing this now? He supposed he hadn’t really thought about how he'd get his payment in return for their deal, just thought Nigel would somehow make him not a social outcast, fix him. He thought the question over. There was so much to tell about Beth, how should he start? She was pretty, for starters, but that much was obvious. He was sure Nigel had noticed too, beyond her breasts. “What are her interests?,” Nigel then asked, seemingly picking up on his overwhelmed expression. “Cheerleading.” The other shrugged. “Of course.” Adam said, “She likes kids.” He'd seen her around them, the way she seemed overjoyed even if he could never understand why. Sometimes he saw her outside with his nephew, her friends awe-ing and telling her just how cute he was.

“And?,” Nigel probed, placing his head on his fist. He wasn’t sure, actually. She liked people, she was sweet and considerate to them, stood her ground when they didn’t return that kindness, but beyond that, he didn’t know much about her interests. “I don’t know,” he said.

Nigel straightened his back and laid his hand on the table instead, fingers spread out. “Well, what do you talk about then?” Adam raised his brows. “Oh, we’ve never spoken.” Nigel’s lips parted, eyes widening. “Or, I’ve greeted her around school a couple times, but we’ve never had a conversation.” He glanced at the music-guy finally dragging his chair against the floor and leaving. If he believed in God, he would have thanked him.

“You’ve never talked to her?” Didn’t he just answer that? “No.” He looked at Adam and a strand of hair fell in front of his eyes. He ran a hand through his bangs, but they only fell before his eyes again. Adam wanted to tuck the strands behind his ear finally. “Adam, how do you expect to get a Betty like her if you don’t even talk to her?”

Suddenly, Adam Felt judged. It’s not like there wasn’t a reason for not talking to her, he was sure he'd screw it up and make her uncomfortable. He preferred to just look at her from a distance, and he'd hoped Nigel would help him figure out how to act around her.

He turned to look at the table, his leg bouncing restlessly as he kept silent. What should he say to that?

Nigel sighed, crossing his arms on the table and leaning closer to him. “Well, I suppose that’s why I’m here to help you.”

Yes it was, and he desperately needed it. Adam bit at the inside of his lips nervously. He'd really gone and screwed that up huh? He reached for one of his book, sitting awkwardly and staring at the table before saying, “I should get home.” He still hadn’t found more out about getting girls, but he felt a jitter crawl up his arms and he knew it was time to leave before it all became too much. It had been much easier to talk about math than this, much more practical – he'd been the one in charge.

He glanced anxiously at his watch, hoping his train would be there soon, when he saw how late it’d gotten, he realized it might be there a little too soon. Quickly he shoved his books into his bag, hoping to catch the train before it left.

“Are you sure?,” asked Nigel, looking at him from the table. “Yeah, I have to go.” He threw his backpack on and put one foot in front of the other. “Okay then, thanks, Raki, I learned a lot,” Nigel called out from behind him. Adam sped up, wishing badly he was at the train stop already.

Well. That had gone superbly.

Chapter Text

Today had been like any other Friday, Adam had gone through each class, same as it always was and ending it with PE. He'd spent the whole class gazing at Beth, wondering what he should say to her. Nigel and him never ended their conversation and he wasn’t sure how to start one with his crush. He'd done small talk exercises with his father, sure, but they get forced and never prepared him for real world interactions. Quickly, he flipped through the lines he'd rehearsed, what was appropriate and what wasn’t. Space talk wasn’t, he knew, because it was what made the biggest impression on him. What was a conversation worth if he wasn’t allowed to talk about his interests? He never figured.

Occasionally, his eyes would slide to Nigel’s figure, hoping just looking at him would unlock some secret way to understanding others. He ended up analyzing his behavior instead, how he talked with his friends, how he acted around them. It was different to how he'd been the day before. He had acted calmer, more down to earth, not swearing as much as he usually did. It was odd to see him in that light.

After class, he waited by the entrance of the school, looking for Beth. It took her a while to get changed, but eventually he saw her walk by him, curled hair swinging with every step. She wore her bag on her shoulder and had a flimsy scarf tied loosely around her neck despite the still warm weather. He stood entirely still, hands flexing by his side as he shifted his weight and occasionally rolling onto the balls on his feet till he stood on his tippy toes. He tried to gather up the courage to walk over to her as rehearsed a line in his head, going over it again and again until it was burned into his brain and he started subconsciously mouthing the words between breaths.

His hands were still at his sides, nails digging into his palms when she passed him, and then for a couple feet after too. He felt glued to the floor, his legs heavier than usual and his head so light he felt it would fly away and separate from the rest of his body as that familiar jittery feeling overwhelmed his nervous system. She was gone by the time he turned his head towards her. A couple moments after, when she was out of his sight, he felt his body return to him. First his fingers, which started drumming against his thigh, then his arms and lastly his legs, which carried him away from the spot he'd been standing in, and towards the strain station.

He felt exhausted, even if he had done nothing worthy of exhaustion and he dragged himself slowly across the ground. He reached only a dozen feet away from the school when he heard Nigel call out to him, “Adam!” He turned his head and watched Nigel flick his cigarette onto the grass. It felt weird for him to call him by his given name since he always called him Raki. Although when he remembered back, it seemed it wasn’t the first time Nigel had called him by his first name. he guessed he hadn’t noticed in the situations, too overwhelmed in the moment.

Nigel jogged up to him and tried to wrap an arm around his shoulders before remembering. He seemed to be a very touchy person. When he reached his side, Adam said, “Cigarettes take 20 years to degrade naturally,” while staring ahead.

“Oh.” He felt Nigel look behind them.

“Hey, I just wanted to thank you for yesterday,” he said then, looking back at Adam. “You thanked me yesterday.”

“Yeah but you left real early, seemed in a bit of a fucking rush.” Yeah.

“You’re really saving my fucking ass, Adam. Thank you.” Adam looked up at him, unsure, and Nigel gave him a wide smile in return. He couldn’t help but feel a little better at that.

“Hey, Nigel! You going to take fucking Raki up the fucking ass, you fag?” Adam looked behind them in surprise, a little shocked by the noise, and saw one of the guys from Nigel’ friend group. Nigel looked back too, smiling at the boy “Hey you’re the only fucking fag here.” He turned around and one of the guys threw something after him and laughed, it landed a few feet behind them. Adam frowned, tapping his finger against his leg. “You’re not supposed to use that word,” he said after they’d walked away. He didn’t necessarily know any gay people, but he knew it was disrespectful still. “Oh, he’s a fucking asshole, its fine.” Nigel didn’t seem phased at all, laughing to himself. “Isn’t he your friend?,” Adam asked, confused.

“One of Darko’s.” It didn’t sound very nice to talk about someone that way, even if they weren’t your close friend.

“Still, it’s offensive,” he said, because it was. Even he was starting to get uncomfortable. “Why? you a fucking fairy, Raki?” he looked over at Adam and grinned. He sounded like he was back to his disturbing self, making Adam want to get away as quickly as possible, even going back to using his last name.

“I’m straight,” he said bluntly. He felt it was pretty obvious considering every conversation they’d had was about girls. Beth, specifically.

He kept walking and Nigel kept by his side, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I don’t understand people who like men,” he said finally after a while of silence, voicing his thoughts. He grimaced in disgust, “How can you look at a man, and what? Get hard? I just don’t get it.” Men were all sharp edges. Square torsos and dangly legs. Women were plump with smooth skin, even the skinny ones had soft shoulders, perky boobs and nice butts. Men were the complete opposite of that. He thought his father would have told him that was an inside thought, although in his defense, Nigel almost never talked about anything but sex.

“What, not even those cute little feminine ones? You can’t see yourself boning one of them?,” Nigel asked with intrigue. Adams face pulled together further as he felt even more disgust. He didn’t even want to imagine himself having sex with another man. “No, can you?” he asked back, almost shocked he would even imply that.

Nigel laughed heartedly, “No,” he said, the thought for a while, “I think if I was gay I’d want to fuck a manly man, you know? What’s the point of liking fucking dick if it’s not even fucking proper good dick, right?”

Adam almost felt nauseous.

The train wasn’t for at least a couple more minutes and he wanted nothing more than to get away from this situation. He really didn’t want any of those images in his head.

Thankfully, a divine savior stepped in when Nigel said, “Well, I gotta go that way,” he gestured with his hand, “bye, Adam. I hope you’ll come later tonight.” And gave him a quick wave. Adam exhaled heavily.

Right. Nigel’s party, that he was invited to. He watched Nigel walk away slowly before turning around for his own destination. He'd decided to go, he thought. It was the polite thing to do, right? And Nigel said he wanted him there. He guessed he didn’t really have a choice. He ruffled his hair slightly before patting it down again, anxious to get home.

Adam had been nervously fidgeting ever since he got home, what would he even do at a party? It seemed meaningless. As the clock ticked away and there was only an hour till he needed to leave, he started rethinking everything. He paced around the room, flexing his hands, wondering if he was truly cut out for this. At some point he looked down at himself. He was wearing his usual outfit, jeans, a button up and his favorite horizontal striped sweater. It kept to his earthy colour palette but still had a few different colors across the fabric.

What did people wear to parties? In films the girls wore colorful and glittery tops, bows in their hair and dark jackets with big shoulders. But what did guys wear? He never paid it any mind, they always faded into the background for him. Suddenly he realized a playful sweater probably wouldn’t cut it at Nigel’s party. He didn’t know the temperature in the room and if there were many people, surely it would rise anyhow, with people so close. A shudder ran through him at the thought.

Quickly, he pulled his sweater over his head, looking at himself in his plaid long sleeved shirt before taking that off as well. He raked through his closet, finding only the same shirts in different bluish and brown colors, a few patterned but most of them plain. At the right side of his closet he kept his suits, shirts that were too uncomfortable to wear but too expensive to chuck. Stuff he'd gotten from his dad, as a gift or as a hand me down. At the very end he found a dark button down shirt with a firm collar. He grabbed it quickly and felt at the material. It wasn’t bad, the shirt just looked rather plain. Although he guessed, stylish. At least a dark shirt blended in better with the crowd.

He undid his fly, putting on the shirt and tucking it into his high waisted jeans. He kept his undershirt on, hoping the collar wouldn’t bother him too much and that worst come to worst, he could open it a little if it got too hot. He belted it quickly, felling almost naked without his sweaters and ran a comb through his hair.

Stepping out of his room, he wiped his sweaty palms against his pantlegs and stood before his father.

“Is this alright?,” he asked. His dad looked up at him, giving him a once over. “You look great, Adam,” he said, “are you leaving for that party with Nigel?”

“At Nigel’s house, yes,” he ran his hand through his hair, “I’m not sure if I’ll go though.” He glanced back at his room. Maybe it would be better to just stay at home. Let things stay the way they always did, at least as much as he could after he'd changed his whole routine for Nigel. For Beth.

He looked down at himself once more. “I don’t know what people wear at parties.”

“Well don’t let that stop you, I’m sure you’ll have a good time regardless of what you wear.” He chuckled, assuming those two points connected. Adam supposed they did in some way.

“You’re sure as hell not gonna get any help from your old man when it comes to fashion among your generation,” he smiled at Adam who frowned in return. He really didn’t like it when his father swore. “I’m just happy you’re trying to get out of the house, who cares about what you wear, you’ll have a great time with Nigel, yeah?” he kept saying that over and over hoping it would convince Adam. Maybe it helped, he didn’t know. He gave his dad a quick nod and went back to his room, checking his watch. He didn’t have time to change his outfit, that was for sure, he needed to leave in five minutes.

He sat down on his bed again, preparing himself mentally for this party. For being at Nigel’s house. He'd never been to his house before and he didn’t like new places. He wasn’t sure if he liked Nigel either, to be entirely honest, at least not when he was with his friends, swearing all the time.

He needed to leave soon and yet when five minutes had passed, he was still sitting on his bed. And he was still there when seven minutes passed, then thirteen.

At some point he got himself out of bed, pacing a little around before getting out of his room again. He'd already changed, he'd already prepared himself for this party, and there was nothing worse than a change of plans, and he knew Nigel as expecting him to be there. He grabbed his keys and said goodbye to his dad, telling him he'd be back later, who then responded with a, “be safe,” he promised he would and left his apartment, closing the door behind him.

He fished Nigel’s address out of his pocket and made his way to his house.

It was nearly dark out when Adam finally stepped in front of Nigel’s door. He could hear the loud bass of music booming even outside the house, vibrating with every beat. He stood there for a moment, cracking his knuckles, shifting on his feet. He'd come all the way out there but when he finally got within reach for the doorbell, he couldn’t do it. He wondered if it had been a mistake, deep down he knew it had been a mistake. He didn’t belong here, at Nigel’s house, in this situation, with Nigel’s friends. He belonged at home, with his dad. Or in the park, trying to make out the stars above him through layers of clouded smoke and smog.

Still, nervous energy buzzed through him and he took a small tentative step for the door, reaching his hand up high and knocking. He didn’t want to ring the bell, to interrupt what was going inside and so he stood for a while after he'd knocked politely, rhythmically, on the door. No one answered.

Determination bubbled through him and he brought his fist to the wood once more, knocking a little louder this time. It didn’t take long before the door was thrown open and Adam took half a step back in surprise.

It hadn’t been Nigel at the door. In fact, Adam didn’t think he'd ever seen the person who opened for him. the other looked a little disappointed once he saw Adams face, perhaps expecting someone else in his stead, but  opened the door wider for him to come through still. Adam rocked a little, unsure, before stepping past the boy, who looked out of it and shut the door again once he saw no one else was there. He walked away again, returning to his spot a few feet away, leaving Adam standing by the entrance with his hands laced together in front of him.

The music was louder inside, much louder than for Adams taste and he felt compelled to cover his ears with his hands. There weren’t many people, maybe a dozen or a little more, but still more than Adam had expected. He supposed it shouldn’t surprise him with how many friends Nigel had, many more than himself, he was sure. He made his way into the living room slowly. He wasn’t used to that many people together, chatting loudly, having to raise their voices higher over the music inside.

He wasn’t sure what to do, he hadn’t planned for this, he didn’t know what he had been expecting but he felt like all control over the situation was thrown out the window, leaving him breathless in a house he didn’t know with people he couldn’t recognize. He stood there, in the middle of the room, thoughts racing in a way that seemed to slow everything around him all the while speeding it up to a tempo he couldn’t follow. He fidgeted with his fingers, the only parts of his body he felt he could move as his ears rung loud. His eyes were glued to the floor and he could almost see the floorboard start to move, dancing in his vision. Then he head footsteps, so quiet they overpowered the loud noises of the room. He looked up briefly, scanning the people, they didn’t look right to him, blurry and unfocused. His palms started to sweat. Then he recognized his face, Nigel walking over to him, hands up in greeting.

“Hey, Adam,” he said with more enthusiasm than Adam had expected. Maybe he had wanted Adam there. Still, he felt his throat lock up, not allowing any sound to come up, any words choking and dying on his tongue. Nigel saved him by quickly saying, “Empty handed, I see.”

Adam hadn’t known he was supposed to bring anything, he hadn’t been told he was. Shame bubbled up inside him. He really shouldn’t have come.

“That’s alright, I guess, we got plenty.”

Nigel stepped up next to him and started walking with him. Adam felt he was saved, following Nigel’s steps. He exhaled heavily, letting his shoulders drop a little as Nigel took him to the kitchen. When they rounded a corner, Adam figured what he had been supposed to bring. Alcohol. Lots of it. More than he'd ever seen. He guessed that wasn’t a lot anyhow, just his dads beers in the fridge and the whiskey he kept in a cupboard in his room.

“So, what do you want to drink?” Adam looked at Nigel briefly after he'd asked the question. Now that he thought about it, his throat was very dry, after the panic that had just taken over his body. His eyes found Nigel’s sink. “Uh, water?,” he cleared his throat, his voice wavering still. Getting away from the living room had helped, but everything was still so loud.

One look at Nigel’s face told him that had been the wrong answer. He walked over to the counter and grabbed a beer for himself, opening it mechanically before leaning against the counter, taking a sip. Adam looked around them again, only finding more beer, some vodka and plastic shot glasses someone had stacked and left at the table. He looked back at Nigel then. “I’m under the legal drinking age, and so are you.” The words seemed steadier the more he talked, now focused on something other than how out of place he was.

Nigel licked his lips and shifted on his feet, looking right at him. It was strange seeing Nigel below him, so used to flitting his eyes up to see his face, or at at least the parts he could look at without cringing. Still, he held a sort of authority over him that surpassed age or size, it was his confidence that made Adam feel inferior, yet somehow drawn to him, as if being next to him made him belong in this place.

“Yeah well, this is a Romanian household,” he said, as of that made literally any sense. As if this house in particular somehow was allowed to break the law because it was his. “The legal drinking age in Romania is 18 and I’m seventeen. Also, that’s not how that works,” he said, a little confused, a little proud of correcting the other boy. He loved being right.

Nigel almost rolled his eyes, about to dismiss his his answer by making up something else, “Well,” he said, cutting himself off, “How do you know that?,” he then said, looking at the other, a little surprised.

“It is in most of Europe.”

He supposed that was fair enough. He looked at Adam for a while, unable to come up with an excuse to get him to drink. He didn’t even know why he was being so stubborn, he supposed he just wanted him to have a good time. To let loose a little. He was always so uptight, such a perfectionist. He needed to calm down a little and relax, if only for a while.

It seemed Adam couldn’t stay in that awkward silence, as he glanced at the alcohol, his fingers moving on their own accord. It looked as if he was able to verbalize any excuse not to drink, accepting his fate instead and grabbing a beer himself. He opened it hesitantly and took a sip, bracing himself for the bitter taste before swallowing the liquid. He paused for a couple seconds before taking another careful sip, looking much less disgusted this time and Nigel watched his blank expression as they both looked at each other in silence.

Nigel stood there for a while, listening to the mixtape he'd put on as Adam stood too, just the two of them in the kitchen. Fool’s Gold by The Stone Roses. He loved that song. He took another sip and enjoyed the music, looking around the room. The bass carried through the floor, running up through his feet in deep vibrations. It was loud enough he could hear the song, although not the lyrics themselves, while being quiet enough people could still converse around him. He spotted a group of people by the other side of the room. Christina, or Chrissy, was speaking to some of her friends, her back to Nigel. He recognized her blonde, wildly teased hair and sleeveless denim jacket and her Lauper inspired jewelry. They broke up a couple weeks ago, on good terms, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d want one more night with him, no ties. Or, if not, she was a cool friend he enjoyed talking to.

So, he bid Adam his goodbyes and went to talk with her. Her friends, John and Michael, saw him first. He wouldn’t say he was best mates with them, but he'd enjoyed talking to them when Chrissy and he had been together. Although, he'd been described as a little jealous around them. He knew he struggled a little with possessiveness, or well, a lot. He just didn’t want filthy trash grabbing on his girl, thinking they deserved a chance. Well, look where that got him now.

Chrissy looked glad to see him after so long and he greeted both her and her friends, asking what they were talking about, what had been going on for them. Songs changed on the on the boombox, going through quiet, bass heavy melodies as they continued chatting. Nigel looked from Chrissy and her oversized, bejeweled earrings, dark painted lips and colorful eyes, to Micheal in front of him, facing the other wall. He didn’t look back at him, instead peering above his head, he was much taller than Nigel who usually would be considered quite tall himself, right to the middle of the living room.

Nigel looked at him in confusion, turning around to see Adam in the middle of the room, standing stiffly, hands flexing at his side as he burned holes into the floor with his eyes. He must have moved while Nigel was away and he didn’t look particularly comfortable in his new spot. In fact, when Nigel looked a little closer, he appeared to be trembling, entirely pale in the face. His nails dug so hard into his palms, veins were starting to pop on the back of his hands.

He excused himself and walked over to the other boy, shielding him from the other people with his back. Before Nigel could reach him, he reached his hands up over his ears, curling his body and letting them hover a few inches from his head, arms taught. He looked almost as if he was bracing himself for a punch, the same way he did when something loud sounded in the gym hall. He kind of forgot how Adam felt about loud noises and cringed a little at himself. To him, it probably sounded much louder, every beat of the music and every word like an assault against his ears. He probably should have invited him in the first place, he just wanted him so badly to help with Nigel’s academic problems. He’d hoped this would butter him up. Turns out it just made everything worse.

He thought quickly. He couldn’t just kick him out, even if he thought that would be best for him, that was definitely rude. He glanced around the room before saying, “Do you wanna go to my room? It should be quieter there, with the music and uhh,” he wasn’t entirely sure what to say and was sure he'd messed up when Adam stood still, only moving to run his hands through his hair. It looked more like pulling to Nigel. Then Adam nodded quietly, such a small movement that he was unsure for a moment if he'd seen in correctly. He turned to walk away, but Adam kept still. He looked to the side, where he'd placed his beer on a bookshelf. They stood there awkwardly before Adam reached out to grab it, his fingers trembling. Nigel grabbed it before him, taking it in his hand and looking behind him before leading Adam to his room.

Multiple sets of eyes were on them and he saw one girl roll her eyes and say loud enough to be heard over the music, “God, that spaz is here? Gag me with a fucking spoon.” He couldn’t help but hope Adam didn’t hear it, almost feeling bad for the guy. He was about to ignore it when he saw Chrissy step over the girls foot, making her shoot a look at her. At that, Nigel smiled. Yeah, she got what she deserved. He tried to ignore how he said much worse things behind Adam’s back. At least that wasn’t when he was having a fucking panic attack or whatever the fuck was going on right now.

They quickly walked down the hall to Nigel’s room and he handed Adam’s beer back to open the door. He'd been pressing his palms into his ears as they walked but seemed more relaxed when he removed one hand to grab the liquids. His house was small, since he lived only with his mom, but they apparently still made it far enough to quiet the noise of the party a little. His mom worked night shifts often, she worked a lot actually, it came with the job. It was nice when it meant he could throw parties whenever he wanted, have loud sex in his room, invite people over whenever he wanted. It wasn’t as nice when he spent evenings alone eating leftovers or when he left a quiet house in the morning and was met with one after school, his mom either at work or sleeping on the couch or in her room.

With his hand free, he grabbed the door handle and opened the door to his room. He looked inside in surprise for a moment. “Hey!,” he said into the room, watching as two people on his bed stopped to look at him. he stepped the the side, Adam following behind him, unsure of what was going on. He gave them both a look as he gestured into the hall again, his face telling them everything they needed to know. The girl quickly pulled on her shirt and dragged the guy out by the hand. She gave him an angry glance as they walked past him and he gave one back while the other guy just looked around, a little confused. He walked into the room himself, looking at his bed to see if they’d done anything to mess up his sheets. They hadn’t yet. Adam walked in hesitantly behind him and he closed the door after the both of them, looking around his room to see if everything was still in place. Adam stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, staring into the void. “You can sit on my bed if you want,” Nigel said then, walking over to it to even out the sheets a little. Adam obliged and sat down at the edge of the bed, placing his beer on the floor and staring at his shoes. Nigel watched as he visibly relaxed, his shoulders no longer tense and his hands no longer covering his ears.

Nigel stood a little uncomfortably beside him, despite him being in his own room in his own house. He wasn’t sure what to do or how to act. He wasn’t even sure what had just happened. He wanted desperately to get away, back to the party, but knew Adam would stay in his mind the whole time, just a few feet away on his bed. Besides, even if he didn’t know what to do exactly, he expected leaving Adam here after that would be the worst option.

He avoided eye contact with the other boy, even if he knew getting him to look him in the eye was impossible. He didn’t even want to look in the other’s direction, feeling a crippling sense of awkwardness he wasn’t used to throughout his body. Putting his hand in his pocket instead, he drank from his beer. He heard a quiet shuffling and glanced beside him, watching Adam slowly slide his feet out of his shoes and wrap his arms around his knees, leaning his back against the wall behind him. He looked much more comfortable like that, staring blankly at the desk by the foot of Nigel’s bed.

Nigel got tired of standing after a while and sat down as well, a little away from Adam, facing the other wall where he kept all his music in bookshelves, only a few actual books tucked away in the corners. They both sat in silence staring at different blank walls.

“I didn’t want to come,” Adam then said, catching Nigel off guard. He turned to look briefly at the boy but he only kept staring ahead. “I knew I shouldn’t have come.” His voice was quiet, unlike what Nigel was used to when Adam spoke. “I just thought you wanted me here. That I had to come. Because you invited me to.”

Nigel stared at him with wide eyes. It was easier to look at Adam in this situation when he wasn’t looking back. “I did,” he said quickly. Then, “I do.” He wasn’t unused to lying but still felt a little panicked. He cringed at himself then. Was he being mean to Adam? Did he even deserve it? He'd never done anything against him, he was just… different.

“My dad told me I should go,” Adam then said, ignoring the others’ words. “I don’t think he entirely understands me, even if he tries.”

Nigel could relate to that. Still, he wasn’t sure what to say and turned to look ahead again as a silence settled over them. Adam seemed oddly sensitive. He hadn’t known him for a while, but he was used to an Adam that was mechanical and straight to the point, forward in every sense of the word. Not quiet and emotionally aware. He wasn’t even sure Adam had feeling before that point, only lust towards girls. He couldn’t blame him on that part.

“I’m sorry,” he then said and it felt like Nigel’s world turned upside down. Adam wasn’t supposed to be like this. “What, no, it’s fine, Adam,” he rushed out. He went to touch him but opted against him and their silence continued spreading, becoming thicker in the air. He wasn’t even sure how much time went by as they sat there, letting the quiet engulf them until all he could hear was Adams soft breathing beside him and the occasional shift of their bodies.

“You can go if you want to, I won’t touch anything,” Adam said then, suddenly, his voice quiet and distant. Nigel looked back at him to find the boy resting his chin on his knees, he looked kind of cute like that, in the dark of his room with his long limbs tucked under him. Nigel almost laughed at the thought. He did want to leave but wasn’t sure if it would be kind of a dick move. To be fair, that was what he was known for. And it was his damn party anyway, he should be out, entertaining his guests. If not for his sake, then theirs. What kind of host leaves in the middle of a party without even being so polite as to get off? He was kind of here for no reason, he just kind of sat there, surely making everything more awkward. He hadn’t even really been worried about Adam touching his stuff, as long as he didn’t ruin anything of value, like his vinyl player. That shit was expensive.

And so, he said, “Ah, okay. I’ll be back then,” patted the bed and left, looking at Adam one final time before closing the door behind him and getting back to his friends. Darkos’ friend group reached him before he could find Chrissy again. Paul wrapped an arm around his shoulders and Nigel almost choked at the sheer strength of the move. “God, did you see that fucking kid?,” he laughed, “I told you not to bring him, he’s so fucking weird, total fucking queer.” Denis didn’t laugh, just mumbled under his breath. “What a retard.”

Nigel pushed Paul’s arm off him. “He’s not a fucking retard.” He was getting quite fed up with them right now, more than usual. He didn’t love them, but he wasn’t usually this pissed, especially when they weren’t even talking about him. They didn’t even know Adam, technically he didn’t either, but he was nice enough to help him. He definitely wasn’t normal, but he wasn’t as odd as he'd thought either. “You sure?,” said Paul then.

“Yeah, he’s actually like crazy fucking smart. Definitely smarter than all you runty pizde combined.” That was true, Adam couldn’t be retarded if he was that intelligent, right?

“Is that why you were away with him so long? Sucking his fucking găozar cock?,” Darko then finally chimed in. Nigel turned around and walked away, they were assholes anyway. “Fuck off.” He would go find Chrissy and them if the other guys were gonna be like that.

“Someone’s in a fucking mood,” Darko said.

“Maybe it’s catching,” said Denis.

“Only one more reason to stay the fuck away from retard Raki.” Nigel was almost far enough away that he couldn’t hear them anymore. He searched the house briefly before spotting the others outside smoking. That added up.

He walked outside, crossing his arms over his chest. It was cold out now it was dark and he was only wearing a short sleeved button up. It was quite the contrast from inside the house, where it was so burning hot you could almost smell it. The alcohol and strong perfume of girls overpowered it. He welcomed it still, the night carried a refreshing cold, the wind almost a completely different scent than in the daytime when you could smell sunshine and green grass. It was so dark he couldn’t even see what lied after what the light from the windows reached, he was sure if he walked only a couple feet away from the wall, he wouldn’t see his own hands before him. The night sky was completely empty, no stars or moon in sight, only a black void that continued only god knows how far. Chrissy didn’t say anything after he'd stepped out, only looked at him briefly and offered him her half smoked cigarette. Nigel took it and thanked her. He quickly took a drag letting it fill his lungs before exhaling and giving it back. He watched the smoke disappear into the night.

Micheal and John were chatting beside Chrissy and though he didn’t care enough to listen to what they were talking about, he caught the girl beside her occasionally chiming in with manly single sentence responses, every now and again laughing quietly. The noise disappeared with the gentle breeze.

After he walked back in, he spent the rest of the evening talking with his guests, laughing loudly at unfunny jokes that he suddenly found hilarious after a few sips of alcohol and went around courting girls with no luck. He was lucky Adam wasn’t there to witness it. And as the night progressed and his blood alcohol level reached well above sore decimals, he even found his way back to Darko, forgetting even why he was even upset in the first place.

When the last person left his house and he had sobered up a little, he suddenly remembered his book smart companion in his room. When he realized that he had an entire human person in his room, he rushed to check if he was alright. He'd promised he would be back soon. He cringed at the idea. It wasn’t until right before he reached the door handle he wondered why Adam hadn’t just walked out. Maybe he had and Nigel hadn’t seen him, maybe he was overreacting.

He opened the door to find everything where he had left it, nothing in his room had been touched and even Adam’s beer was still placed on the floor where it had been left, although now room temperature. Adam was exactly where he'd expected, in Nigel’s bed. Although he was asleep. He was a little surprised when he saw his clothed figure sleeping with his legs tucked tight. It was a wonder he could find quiet in a different place with rowdy teens just outside the door, talking loudly and turning up the music. Although he supposed it made sense he was tired after the stressful episode, something to do with the vagus nerve or whatever.

He chuckled quietly under his breath at the sight and walked over to the other slowly and reached for his arm, shaking him lightly and whispering his name. Adam reacted almost immediately, stirring and stretching, mumbling a little groan before his eyes adjusted and found Nigel’s face before him. He sat up immediately, looking around the room quickly, looking horrified.

“Sorry about that, I forgot you were in here.” Nigel laughed a little. Adams panicked glances continued before landing on Nigel’s chin. “Did I fall asleep?.” He ran a hand down the side of his face. “It seems like it.”

Adam stood up quickly, careful not to knock over his beer as he looked around still. It had become dark outside.

“Oh.”

He walked out of the room and into the hallway, ruffling his hair as he went. “I’m sorry.”

Nigel followed him. “That’s alright, no harm done.”

Adam seemed to have total awareness of all the rooms in the house and quickly found his way to the front door. It looked pretty cold out and he didn’t remember Adam bringing a jacket. He looked over his dark button up and jeans. He should be fine right? “Is your bus or, eh, train still going?” Train, Nigel remembered then. He hoped desperately it was. He couldn’t just leave Adam to fend for himself after he'd had that weird episode, besides, they still had another session the week after. This wasn’t a onetime thing. He really didn’t want Adam sleeping there, they’d just met.

“I’m not sure, I’ve never stayed out this late,” Adam said and he wondered if he'd have to offer then, no reason walking that distance if you’re not even sure the train will come. “But I walked over here, I don’t live that far away,” he continued and Nigel exhaled.

Adam then quickly grabbed the door handle and walked outside. As he stood in the doorway he said, “Goodbye.” And Nigel answered, “Goodnight, Adam,” as he went to close the door. Right before he left though, he opened it again. “I think I left a beer in your room.”

“Alright.” He laughed a little and Adam looked at him for a while before finally closing the door and walking away.

Nigel looked back into the living room. He'd have to clean that up later, he was so tired he imagined he'd pass out immediately upon getting in bed. He wondered if his sheets smelled like him.

Chapter Text

The next few days passed by quickly, Thursday turning to Friday and August turning to September. Adam had started to notice Nigel around school now. He would see a figure walk by, closer than he was used to, and instinctively look up. Every time, it had been who he'd expected, and he'd looked at him blankly, book or lunchbox in his hands and watched as he stayed behind his group to give him a short wave and a small smile. Adam would wave back. They hadn’t spoken since his almost-meltdown at his house and he hadn’t yet thanked Nigel for helping him, even though it had been his own responsibility. He knew he should say something, at least when they met again, but he wasn’t sure if it would be awkward. He wasn’t used to expressing his emotions. He took Nigel’s waves and quick smiles as a sign he wasn’t too upset about Adam causing a scene in the middle of nowhere.

He still hadn’t spoken to Beth either. He thought he should mention it to Nigel since he was supposed to help him. Maybe he could figure out what Adam should say. Maybe he could be there when he said it so he didn’t feel completely out of place.

Since last weekend, the temperature had dropped. He would walk home and see dark clouds form above him, occasionally dripping water droplets down on him. He started carrying an umbrella in his bag just in case. Thankfully, the majority of his time was spent inside, even in safety from the rain on his commute since the walks from school and his home to the train were relatively short. He wondered if Nigel got wet on his way home. It didn’t seem like he took any public transports home and he lived quite far, although he couldn’t be sure. He'd never seen him carry around anything to protect him from the rain. And when he ate inside the cafeteria, he would look out at the yellowing trees and wonder if Nigel was getting cold smoking outside in his short sleeved shirts. He didn’t understand how he could keep warm in those flimsy shirts he always wore, nor could he understand how the short hems reaching just barely to his elbows didn’t drive him insane. Adam couldn’t wear shirts unless the sleeves specifically ended on the right spot around his wrists and beginning hand.

It had gotten to the point where he saw Nigel more than Beth. It made sense logically of course, Beth and him didn’t really go the same places and they rarely spoke or even interacted. It was just unexpected, he had never thought someone at school would know who he was, even talking to him on their own initiative. Nigel was the closest he’d had to a friend since 7^th grade. As a result, he thought more about Nigel too, about what he was doing, how he was doing. Wondered who he was with. His father told him too that he talked more about him and that he was glad he'd found someone to speak to, even if it really didn’t happen that often. Adam didn’t think it was that much different, sure he thought about his acquaintance sometimes, but it wasn’t as if he was on his mind constantly, not like his special interests. Those were his favorite things. He wondered how Nigel felt about space.

The last time they’d seen each other was Friday, at PE as always. Adam had sat at the bleachers, doing his homework before looking up and seeing Nigel smile at him. It was weird to see a guy like him smile so casually, he looked almost kind with the way he looked at him. He supposed he was almost helping him graduate high school. He'd told Adam multiple times how grateful he was.

One thing that stuck out to him, though, was when he heard a sound and looked up to find the cause, he'd find Nigel instead, glancing up at him as to check if something was wrong with him. He thought that maybe he'd noticed how he covered his ears at loud noises and thought it was weird. He dismissed it anyhow, people had always thought he was weird, it didn’t matter if Nigel thought so too, as long as he'd still help Adam with Beth and as it stood, it looked as if they still had a session the following Saturday.

After class Adam waited outside the boy’s changing room for Nigel to show up. It didn’t take long before he walked out of the door and saw Adam clutching his notebook tightly in his hand. The gym itself seemed to amplify sounds by five hundred percent. He walked over to him and they found a spot further away from the stream of students exiting the locker rooms.

Adam got straight to the point. “Let’s meet at the library on Saturday,” he said. Nigel looked at him for a little before saying, “The library is closed on weekends.”

They both stared at each other for a while as Adam thought about the other’s words. “No, the library. By the train station,” he then said, finally understanding what the other had meant. They couldn’t continue to meet at school like the last time.

“Oh, that makes sense. Do we just meet at three again then?”

Adam thought that fit well and so their next study session was planned.

The following Saturday, he woke up as he usually did, showered, put on his jeans, button up shirt and a comfortable sweater and sat down to eat breakfast with his dad. He enjoyed his usual all bran cereal while his father made toast for himself, not as reliant on routines as his son, much less when it came to meals. They spoke about casual things, what Adam was doing at school, what they should do the weekend after and his dad told him about one of his coworkers who’d had some fascinating information about space that Adam hadn’t yet found out about. His dad struggled with the wordings, not able to retell everything with total accuracy but Adam helped him. He was a little sad the coworker didn’t say where he saw it, although he specified it was information from NASA, so he was glad for that. He was happy his dad cared enough to tell Adam about it even if it wasn’t one of his own interests. His dad then asked about his plans, knowing Nigel and Adam's sessions were to take place on Saturdays from that day onwards and Adam told him they when and where they were meeting. His dad said he should take care and go back home if he got overstimulated and that he appreciated it was Nigel he was spending his time with, since Adam had told him about what happened Friday and how Nigel had let him stay in his room the whole night.

After he'd gotten home in the evening, his father said that he had been worried and that he would appreciate if Adam didn’t stay out so long. He apologized then and said he'd fallen asleep, not planning on staying out past his usual bedtime. His father then told him that if he stayed out again, he should call home and that he would pay for the phone call if it was needed. Adam then said he would and went to bed.

It was a quarter past two when Adam started packing up the stuff he'd need, although most of it was already in his backpack and he slipped on his shoes, told his father he was leaving and walked to his train stop. It didn’t take too long before he got there, and because it was the weekend, the train wasn’t as filled as he was used to. It wasn’t as bad as it usually was. He got to the library a few minutes before they’d decided to meet, expecting Nigel to come later as he walked through the large front doors into the building. The door and window frames had beautiful white carvings and the walls were made of reddish brown bricks, making the interior feel cozier with its darkened palette. The floors were dark wood and he looked through the tall maze of bookshelves, reaching many times his own height. He wondered briefly about how people even got up to the highest books. A ladder would make sense, although he wasn’t sure if he'd ever want to climb one that high, even if he magically spotted one written by the apollo 11 crew. He walked through the rows of books before finding a table he'd sat at before. He wasn’t at the library often, it was too distracting, but the times he'd been there he'd sat at that particular table. He preferred when things were the same. Although right as he was about to walk over to it, he saw Nigel planted by a table in the corner. He was honestly surprised Nigel had gotten there before him, and anxiety started to fill him as his plans were being slipped away from underneath him.

Did he get there earlier without intentions of meeting Adam yet? Should he walk over there or wait until Nigel noticed him? Should he ask him to go to the other table with him, would he even come with? What if it wasn’t even him and Adam's eyesight was getting worse. Oh god he really didn’t want to wear glasses, they always slid all over the place and he could never keep them on his nose. He wondered if he had oily skin, should he look into that?

Nigel, or what looked to be him, with his usual button up and jeans and dirty blonde hair was tapping his pencil against his neck as he stared intensely at multiple books he'd laid out. He squinted at them hard, head resting so low on his hand Adam thought he would smack his face into the table and he sighed heavily. Adam decided then to walk over to him. He grabbed the straps of his bag tight and made his way to the corner. His footsteps echoed loudly behind him in the large room and he couldn’t help but appreciate the rhythmic sounds he was producing. He wondered how high heels would sound in here. He remembered his moms heels on the floors, although it rarely happened. Even such a long time after he would think of her when he heard high heels clattering against the sidewalks.

When he reached the table, he stood over Nigel awkwardly until the other noticed him and looked up. He watched Nigel in the warm light. The large overhead lamps were big, but not quite strong enough to light the entirety of the floor and as a result, everything dimmed. Adam liked that. It wasn’t like it was too dark to read, but it was still not so bright as to blind him. And as concluded, he couldn’t wear sunglasses since they annoyed him beyond words. “You’re early,” he said before they even greeted each other. Nigel smiled in return. “So are you.” And Adam didn’t answer that. Simply looked at the table scattered with books. Nigel had written a bunch of stuff in one of his notebooks, scribbling it out later until the whole page was wasted. He saw what they had worked on a little more than a week earlier had been highlighted in yellow. Adam recognized his own hand writing.

“I usually sit over there,” he said and pointed at another table after he'd stood for a while and still hadn’t spoken. “Oh, I just thought,.. I picked this cause I thought it was quieter. I thought you usually sat in the corner,” said the other, “We can sit over there if you want.”

Adam looked down at Nigel and watched his brown eyes stare up at him. He cringed and Nigel looked down at his books, scanning the surface.

He was right, Adam did usually sit in the corners, it was quieter there, not as many people to worry about, but with the bookshelves to protect him, it wasn’t as bad. As he stood there though, he realized he wasn’t quite as overstimulated by the noise as he usually was and realized Nigel might have been right in his other observation too. He didn’t even know why he sat at the other table normally, it had just been the only one far away from other people the first time he'd been there and it had become a force of habit. Before Nigel could pack up his stuff, he drew out a chair and sat down, dragging it a little closer to Nigel so they weren’t seated entirely opposite each other yet also not glued to each other’s side. Just enough that they could see what the other was doing. He grabbed his own pencil and notebook and dumped his bag on the floor. He pushed Nigel’s stuff a little to the side as Nigel helped him and he then remembered that he should probably have asked before moving his stuff, particularly when it came to Nigel. He didn’t particularly seem to care though.

After he'd made space for his own stuff, he realized that it would most likely have taken a while to pack up all of Nigel’s books and move them to another table. Maybe it had been a good idea to stay here even if it was a little unnerving to sit somewhere else. Nigel being there too made it easier though.

“I tried talking to Beth,” Adam said out of nowhere. “Really?” Nigel smiled in a way that showed of his fangs and Adam watched him briefly before explaining. “Yeah, it wasn’t very successful though,” then he added, “Sorry for mentioning it so quickly, I know we did it the other way last time, it’s just been stuck on my head for a while and I needed to tell you since I hoped you could help.” Nigel’s smile widened and he thought he'd done a good job explaining.

“No, that’s fine, I’ve been needing a fucking break from this shit anyway.” He gestured at the table and Adam was about to comment on it, he wondered how long Nigel had spent here before he came. He decided not to ask. Instead, he said, “I waited for her, but when she actually got there, I couldn’t say anything to her.” Nigel angled his body closer to him. “You chickened out?” He didn’t know how to respond to that. Was Nigel going to make fun of him? He already knew he struggled with this, why was he being so judgy all of a sudden? “I didn’t know what to say to her,” he said then quietly. He actually had a lot of things he wanted to say to her, to ask her. But he wasn’t sure how to explain to Nigel how overwhelmed he felt in those situations. There were so many expectations on him, and he was already known as the awkward guy, he needed to seem confident, right? He wasn’t sure how to do that.

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that before,” Nigel said. Was he judging him? “I think you might be overthinking it, just fucking walk up to her and say the first thing that comes to mind.” No shit, he was overthinking, that was the whole problem. If he didn’t think, he'd say something much worse and Beth would hate him forever. “Nothing comes to mind,” Adam then said, because he wasn’t sure he could pick just one out of all the things he'd practiced. None of them seemed right, to processed and not at all something he would say. He honestly didn’t care at all for small talk, what was the point?

Nigel watched him and he watched someone beside them, walking around. Nigel looked as if he was thinking for a while. “Just say, ah, tell her that fucking destiny brought you together or something.. That she’s, fucking, the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. Girls love that stuff, trust me,” he said, “Just be confident.” He shrugged and leaned back. Easy to say for the guy who looked like that and actually knew how to socialize. Adam could admit he didn’t entirely understand what people found desirable from the guy who swore in every second sentence and bad mouthed and slut shamed anyone who didn’t fall to their knees before him. And even those weren’t safe. But he knew what he was doing, and he didn’t look terrible, he could see that much. Even if Adam didn’t find men particularly attractive, he knew ugly from pretty, you didn’t have to want to have intercourse with them to see that.

Nevertheless, he took what Nigel said to heart, he knew what he was doing after all, he'd wait to see how the whole him being confident thing would work out, he knew what he had to say now, he guessed.

“Alright,” he said and Nigel slammed the table, bringing back his attention from the people checking out the books on the shelves. “Go get that girl, Raki.” He smiled widely. “I don’t know where she lives,” Adam said without missing a beat. “I didn’t mean right this fucking moment, just, you know, go you!!” He wasn’t sure how to feel about that but was grateful for Nigel’s support? Why was he so fond of Adam all of a sudden? He had a feeling he might be reading this all wrong. Still, he quickly scribbled down Nigel’s words before flipping a couple pages. He was glad to pause the conversation for a moment, they could continue it later.

Adam had written notes from last time, even spending time at home figuring out how he could easily explain things to Nigel. He wasn’t used to having to talk about his thought process, he just did it. Nigel seemed to get the hint after he opened his notebook and tugged his own closer. He glanced at Adam's notes. “Did you write notes from last time?”

Adam looked back at him, distracted once again by the other people around the room. He looked back at his writing on straight black lines. “Yeah.”

“Ești tare, Adam! You didn’t fucking have to do that.” Was that good or bad?
“That’s fucking great, Adam.” Oh, good, then.
He ran his fingers over his writing and kept quiet. He wondered if it had been too much to prepare for today beforehand. Maybe it had been.

“Are you okay?,” Nigel then said, unexpectedly. Adam looked at him wildly. “What?”

“You keep fucking looking around like you’re not really concentrated.” Had he been doing that?

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He looked down at the table instead and Nigel laughed. “Why the fuck are you apologizing? I’m asking you why.” He wondered if normal people would have known that. He felt his cheeks flush a little even if he promised not to be embarrassed of himself.

“I,” he said, thinking a little, “I guess I just don’t do too well in large spaces. It feels a little overwhelming, like I have to watch everyone around me you know? It’s a little exhausting to be honest.”

“That makes sense.” Did it? He felt a little better that Nigel understood. “We should go somewhere quieter then.” Adam couldn’t agree more, but where would be quieter than a library? “We’re already here,” he said, deciding to dismiss it. He must have snapped Nigel back from this thoughts. “No, I meant next time.” There was just so much you had to read between the lines with other people, no wonder everyone was confused all the time. “We could go to my place,” he said then, seemingly having figured something out while he'd been deep in thought.

“I don’t like new places.” It was true, he preferred his usual routines, including his usual spots. New almost always meant bad from his experience. “You’ve been there before,” Nigel said. That much was also true. “Which went terribly.”

“It wasn’t that fucking bad.”

It actually wasn’t. He kind of thought his life was ending in that moment, when he was minutes away from a melt down or panic attack, but it actually hadn’t all gone downhill. Nigel had actually helped him. “I don’t think going to a strangers house alone is a good idea,” he said instead and Nigel didn’t deny the use of the words strangers. “We’re alone here.”

“Yeah, but at your house you could kidnap me and force me to eat knives.” He didn’t know what the likelihood of Nigel forcing him to eat knives was but his point still stood, going to someone’s house alone was never a good idea and it turned into an even worse idea when that person was Nigel Banyai.

“What if I promise not to kidnap you and make you eat knives?,” Nigel said and Adam was about to comment on how insane that sounds, that no criminal would ever admit what their intents were before committing the crime before looking at the boy, eyebrows furrowed and seeing his lips spread into his usual smile. Ah, must have been a joke.

Still, he didn’t feel entirely sure. “Isn’t that a risk you’re willing to take so we can concentrate? Actually, get some fucking work done.” He supposed that if Nigel really wanted to hurt him he would have done it earlier, right? No reason for dragging it out. It really seemed that he actually needed his help.

“Alright,” Adam said finally. Nigel lived closer to him anyway, it would be quicker to go to his house rather than the library.

“Fucking great, you remember my address right?”

“Yeah I have a good memory.” He did.

“Way to fucking show off.”

Adam was starting to realize that Nigel didn’t always mean harm when he said those things, he was beginning to tell by his facial expression, he'd seen Nigel mad and this wasn’t it. They quickly redirected their attention to what they’d gone here to do after Nigel had told him a joke he didn’t entirely understand.

The following Monday Adam tried his luck with Beth again. He'd memorized what Nigel had told him, perhaps a little too well, repeating it over and over as he had a habit of doing until anxiety started to fill him up entirely and it seeped out of every pore. He found her in the hallways, much to his own surprise, even feeling a little impressed with the crowd looming over him. He spent the rest of the day trailing around her, even in class he would stare out the window, bouncing his leg and waiting until he had the chance again. He had a lot of chances. She spent a lot of time with her friends, sure, the cheer team, some of her classmates, one of them a guy he couldn’t entirely recognize. But she spent time alone too. He knew he was making up excuses; she was too far away, he forgot what he was supposed to say (unlikely,) she was probably meeting up with someone and he'd embarrass himself in front of the both of them. And so, as a result, he ended up trailing a couple feet behind her at all times as a result, like a lost puppy looking for its mama.

As the day progressed, he noticed his shirt became unbearable to wear. His jeans were too tight and the seams pressed against his legs, which he wasn’t used to since he always wore bootcut, his hands became sweaty and a pressure started building around his chest and throat. He wasn’t built for interaction with others. He was made for studying, now for school but one day for NASA. He was meant for the world of science, not socializing and small talk. He definitely wasn’t meant for picking up girls or even talking to them. It was too much pressure, too far out of his comfort zone.

It had been another unsuccessful day and after school was over he started walking towards the train station. He hadn’t asked Beth out and he hadn’t even gotten close enough to start a conversation with her. He wasn’t seeing Nigel until Saturday, he remembered how he'd agreed to stay at his house that day and blinked hard in an effort to forget for a moment. He'd have to try again the next day, he thought. He needed something to report back to Nigel so he knew he wasn’t a dead case, so he knew he was capable of asking a pretty girl out, even if it made him want to rip off his skin.

Someone called out to him and snapped him out of his thoughts. “Hey, Adam!” it was a girl. She kind of sounded like Beth actually. With her soft, caring voice, high pitched in a way that was appropriate for a teenage girl, but not so high it was annoying. He'd probably misheard either the name or the voice of the person calling. Probably both. He turned to look anyway, spotting the person only a few feet from him. Beth was standing there, waving, in her stone washed, belted jeans and fuzzy sweater. Adam was frozen still in his place.

Chapter Text

Ever since Beth had spoken to him, he'd felt a jitter throughout his body. It wasn’t what he was used to and yet felt exactly the same. It was uncomfortable and weird, made him want to dig as far down as he could and stay in that little hole for as long as he could. He wanted to barricade himself inside his room and never leave yet simultaneously run laps around the block if only to get some of the energy trapped out. And yet it was almost pleasurable. For once the pounding of his heart felt good, the hitch in his throat didn’t feel like he was suffocating. Instead, he felt as if he'd floated so far up the air had started to thin, and he liked it. He knew what the effects of low oxygen were, he knew if he wasn’t careful he could faint and tumble all the way down the mountain. And yet he didn’t care. He only wanted to experience it again.

It had only been a greeting. She’d stopped in front of him and he almost exploded. She said her hello’s and waited as if expecting he'd answer, he'd never thought she would come to him and he blanked entirely. Suddenly he forgot everything he'd memorized so well, his throat tying itself into a knot. His plans had been destroyed as they so often were and he was left amess. He squeezed out a difficult hello and goodbye and she’d hesitated to leave yet still walked when he didn’t have anything more to add. He'd missed an opportunity he was sure he would never have again, he should feel ashamed of the way he acted, that he couldn’t just be confident like Nigel had told him to, even after he promised himself he would be. But he couldn’t find it, too overjoyed to have been so close to this girl. She’d smelled strongly like a flowery fragrance, much to his surprise (and distaste.) He'd imagined a scenario like it often yet had never thought she’d even wear perfume, too caught up in his idea of her perfectness.

Nevertheless, her voice so close to him, her, right in front of him had been enough for him to dismiss it. It had stung in his nose, traveling up his nostrils until he felt like his brain was on fire, and still she was enough to distract him. He wanted to talk to her again but was terrified still. He barely survived that interaction, he wasn’t sure how another would go. And suddenly the pleasurable jitter was starting to fade into the one he was more familiar with, the pressure on his chest that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard he rubbed at it and his wild thoughts running a thousand miles per hour in his head. He wasn’t made for socializing.

The jitter was still ever-present the next morning. It followed him through the night, wherever he went, it was there. The feeling was dulled, sure, but it didn’t change the uncomfortable sensation, didn’t change the buzzing of his thoughts. Like film, it clung to him and clouded his mind. He wasn’t sure he wanted to speak to Beth again, not if it went the way it had the other day. Not if it left him with the same feeling.

By lunch, the jitter had doubled in intensity since that morning. He knew many people, loud noises could trigger him so it didn’t surprise him. It was still a pain though. Lunch was when he could take a break from being around other students. Sure, the cafeteria had terrible acoustics, enabling chatter and sounds to travel across the room until it became a muffled mess of voices and the scraping of chairs against the floor. But when Adam was tucked away in his corner, away from the others, he could focus on what he had in his hands, something material to tie him to reality and avoid slipping away in a meltdown. Currently that was a sandwich that was supposed to help, sometimes it was a book, other times sheets of paper he needed to write or study. The PB&J wasn’t working right now, nor was the comfort of the two walls covering his back and side.

He looked down at the table, staring at the smooth white finish of the wood, ruined by stab marks and pencil drawings and tried to focus on the feeling of his feet planted underneath him, like his father had told him to. More than anything, he wanted to draw his legs up under him and wrap his arms around them, but he knew it would be a short term solution. As well as he knew that sitting alone in the corner in a fetal position wasn’t exactly socially acceptable and wouldn’t really help with his reputation.

By the time he registered the close footsteps and presence of another person, he'd been focused enough to shut the world around him off. It helped with reducing the sound, tapping out of reality and into his own head, thereby also making him jump out of his skin when he finally noticed the other. Nigel looked down at him from his standing position on the other side of the table. He hadn’t expected anyone to be there and only shrank under his gaze. He noticed the older boy fidgeting with the seam of his jean pocket as he stood there in silence for a few moments. “Can I sit?,” he then finally said. It took Adam a while to understand the question, needing a little time to get over the shock of another person, then the shock of Nigel talking to him for seemingly no reason. He started to get a little anxious about Nigel’s intent. Maybe he'd heard about what happened yesterday and was about to tell him he was hopeless, maybe he'd even want to hurt him. And yet, irritation started to bubble inside him. He was already having a bad day, why was he coming here to make it all worse? Right now he needed to focus on not overloading his nervous system, not having a (maybe bad) conversation with a teenager. Although, he really didn’t know why Nigel was coming to him, maybe he had something important to say.

And he'd discovered that talking to the teen actually wasn’t as bad as he'd expected. He seemed to understand Adam much easier than other peers his age and he didn’t look too put off by his brashness and socially awkward tendencies. So, he nodded. It was the polite thing to do and people frequently told him as a kid he lacked proper manners. Nigel sat down across from him, placing his face in both hands and leaning over the table. Adam wished he wouldn’t sit so close to him. The first thing Nigel said, after a long moment of silence, was not a criticism or anything of the sort, instead he asked, “Whatcha eatin’?”

Adam held up his sandwich as an answer, not really caring if it was too vague. He wasn’t sure he could produce a proper sentence with words when his head was still buzzing. This was small talk, wasn’t it? He didn’t know Nigel was all that into that type of stuff, he saw him as a very straight to the point guy, save for all the teasing he seemed to enjoy. People said small talk was for meeting new people, so you can get to know them, but Nigel and him had known each other for a while now, they were studying together, in case he had forgotten. Maybe he was stalling, he thought. It was also used to break tension, right? If you weren’t sure how to say something without hurting the other person’s feelings. Adam had also been told he didn’t seem like he cared because he always blurted things out, but he did care. He cared about his dad and Harlan, he'd cared about his mom when she was alive and he even cared about Aunt Helen, even if he didn’t think she liked him very much. He knew to handle things carefully with other’s too, otherwise they could get upset and he really didn’t like it when that happened. He was always afraid he'd get yelled at, or that they would cry if he said something insensitive and he wouldn’t know how to deal with it.

After some time had passed, and Adam had finished his lunch, Nigel still hadn’t said why he was there and Adam got curious. (As much as he wanted to get out his book to catch up on some reading, he didn’t really feel comfortable with Nigel observing him.) “Why are you here?,” he finally said, closing up his lunchbox.

“Why, do you want me to fuck off?” Adam thought it might be another joke and simply looked at him with a cocked brow. Nigel ran his hand through his hair, resulting only in more strand falling on front of his eyes. He was close enough for Adam to tuck them behind his ear. He kept his eyes on the side of Nigel’s face. “Darko and them were being fucking pule.” Adam's face didn’t relax and Nigel added, “Dickholes.” Ah, that didn’t surprise him.

He didn’t ask why on earth Nigel kept hanging out with them if he disliked them so much, they didn’t seem particularly empathetic, although he wasn’t sure if he'd understand the answer anyway if he did get it. He didn’t respond to Nigel's answer and he didn’t explain it further, instead he just looked away, face still in his hand and lips pouty. He had a nice side profile, Adam thought. When he wasn’t looking right at him, he could see his eyes without wanting to wither away and they seemed almost amber when they caught in the light like this, when it shined through his iris. It was a stark contrast to his usually almost black looking eyes and Adam didn’t think he'd noticed before.

Just as he averted his gaze, pushing his lunchbox further away and staring at his book, he supposed he'd have to wait until he got home to finish another chapter, Nigel asked. “You wanna go outside?” Adam looked up from his book once more, running his fingers over the cover. “I always sit here.” And he wasn’t planning on changing that anytime soon, here was fine, even if the noise buzzing in his head disagreed.

“Please? I’m in fucking desperate need of a smoke.” That really wasn’t Adam's problem and only wanted him to go less if it meant he'd have to spend time wafting away smoke, it stuck to him too and then he had to sit in it for the rest of the day. He grimaced. Why did he even need to be there? It wasn’t as if destroying your lungs needed to be a two person mission, Nigel could just go do that on his own and he could stay here, like he always did. And after he'd looked grossed out for long enough, it seemed Nigel decided that too. Sighing, he placed both hands on the table and muttered under his breath, “Fine, I’ll go alone.” His accent sounded stronger when he spoke lowly like that and it scratched a part in Adam's brain he didn’t know of before.

But when Nigel sniffed and smoothed out his jeans before turning around, Adam's body acted on its own, collecting both lunchbox and book and holding then under his arm before standing up abruptly. Nigel looked back at the sound and smiled at him, Adam looked back with wide eyes and watched as he turned again and walked. Adam followed behind closely, not really sure why he was walking with him, but acting now after he'd gotten up. Might as well come with now, rather than sit down again and act as if his little outburst never happened.

Getting out on the grass helped. It was colder out with fall approaching steadily, and though there was still the hushed sounds of people talking, he had his sweater to keep him warm, and the occasional breeze took any quieted noise with it, leaving only the rustle of leaves and the two boys’ steps on the ground. Nigel flickered a lighter, crisp in its clicks and Adam stepped away when he noticed the others cigarette already placed between his lips.

The fire caught at the end of the cigarette and he placed his lighter back in his pocket before taking a long drag and relaxing his shoulders, Adam watched intently.

“The wind is blowing…?,” he mumbled quietly. “East,” Adam answered and Nigel grabbed his cigarette between his fingers and walked to Adam's side so the smoke didn’t blow in his face. “Right.” His voice was muffled by the cig and his accent didn’t make it any easier to understand, but Adam appreciated the effort nonetheless, even if he could also just not smoke around Adam. He'd gone with anyway, he'd agreed when he walked outside.

After a while of both of them standing in silence, Adam told him what had happened with Beth and Nigel only listened to everything he said, offering him little remarks and turning his head to blow smoke before finally stomping it out and pocketing the stumps (After he'd seen Adam's deadly gaze.)

It was nice being listened to, he felt that Nigel understood him somehow, even if he had feared for the worst. When they’d first met, he'd never imagined holding a conversation longer than a single sentence or two and now he was the person Adam spent the most time around. What an odd turn of events.

The day of their next meet up didn’t feel as scary as he'd expected when he woke up that Saturday. He'd been there before, he knew what Nigel's room looked like and he knew how to get there. That combined with knowing it was quieter there than the library too outweighed the cons. He knew he had irrational fears at times but he also knew the chances of Nigel wanting to hurt or shaming him were much smaller than him just failing math class, especially taking his personality into consideration. They’d spent a lot more time together that week. Nigel had started finding him in hallways and greeting him properly, with conversations and everything, although Adam often cut them short since being out with other students was too overstimulating to him. They’d eaten together twice since Tuesday too, once inside the cafeteria and once Nigel managed to drag him outside to enjoy his sandwich. Sometimes they sat in silence, other times they chatted about stupid things, jokes, although both mainly coming from Nigel's side. Once Adam had even dared to get into space territory, only adding in a quick remark he couldn’t hold back and waited to see if Nigel seemed disinterested.

He struggled sometimes to see if people were into it, but more so he struggled with stopping himself if they did tell him to do so. He didn’t seem offended though, in fact he'd leaned forward, further into him and said, “Yeah?,” allowing him to delve deeper into the topic. At times, Nigel would even ask questions and Adam would answer enthusiastically. One time, Nigel told him that since Adam knew so much, he could easily explain anything that confused Nigel or reconstruct his sentences to dumb it down, which made it much more enjoyable to listen to. He said that it was much better than reading about it, since it all seemed like gibberish to him. This made the other teen very excited, since he'd been practicing putting his thoughts into sentences others could understand and he was glad he had someone to talk to about his special interest too.

His father often listened to what he had to say but sometimes he'd also come home and tell Adam he was too tired to listen to him talk, which sometimes made him a little sad but he tried to understand still. He might not relate to not finding information about the universe the most interesting thing ever, but he could relate to finding things boring, like when his English teacher gave lectures on things he didn’t even care about. So he tried to be considerate, although it seemed he didn’t need to give it too much thought when it came to his older friend.

Nigel hadn’t eaten anything the times they’d been together, only smoking the occasional cigarette and once eating some sort of bar he didn’t quite catch the contents of.

Even walking to Nigel's house was a lot less scary when he knew what to expect and this time, it wasn’t quite as dark as it had been the last time, when he'd been a little nervous walking around in the city alone. This time, he knew where he was going and he knew what they would do. Most likely, he wouldn’t even have to look at Nigel, since although they usually sat opposite each other, they still had something else at hand to look at. It was nice to have something else to concentrate on, it didn’t make the time they spent together as stressful, since he didn’t have to worry about eye contact, or saying the wrong thing. This was mathematical, no vagueness like with people, either it was or wasn’t, it could be disproven or proven. Sure, in the greater scheme of things, there were things we did not know, but they could be calculated even still, it was logical.

Unlike last time, Nigel was the one who opened the door when he finally rang the doorbell. It didn’t take as much conviction this time and when the other appeared in front of him with a greeting smile, he returned a small one before stepping inside. When he looked down, he saw multiple pairs of shoes parked by the entrance and sneaked a glance at Nigel's bare feet. He grimaced a little, imagining walking around on the floor without socks before slipping his own shoes off. He awkwardly placed them both by what he recognized to be Nigel's own and followed him into the living room.

The older looked at him and Adam stopped under his gaze. Nigel scratched his neck for a second and sniffed, looking around., “Uh, do you want something to drink?” He looked at Adam and gestured toward the kitchen with his hand, not making a move toward it. He didn’t seem like he was on his way to get something for himself and Adam declined, not wanting to inconvenience him. When he walked further into the house, he looked around then, being met only with the silence of the rooms. “Are you home alone?,” he asked. “My mom’s working,” was the only answer he got as Nigel continued walking, not even looking back. That much didn’t bother Adam in the least. “You didn’t tell me we would be completely alone.” He furrowed a brow.

“I thought it was implied,” Nigel then looked over his shoulder, the words sounding more like a question. He only followed him in silence, placing himself by the door once they got to Nigel's room.

“Where’s your dad?,” Adam suddenly blurted out and the boy turned to look at him. “Back in Romania.” He leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. “He was a fucking asshole, I’m glad my mom fucking divorced him.” Oh, he wasn’t expecting him to be so open about it. “My mom died when I was eight,” he said immediately. It was his best way of showing other that he heard what they said and that he could relate, they they shared part of an experience. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Nigel responded, much more calmly that the manner in which he usually spoke. “I just meant,- I only have one parent too. Sorry, people sometimes get freaked out whenever I mention death.”

“No, it’s okay, people are way too weird about death, it’s inevitable.”

“Exactly! We’re all just science in the end, there is no soul or being, were all just matter after all. Energy can’t go on forever, it can only be transformed or transferred from one form to another,” he said, “I miss her, of course, but people get all awkward and upset at me when I mention her or her death.” Nigel tapped against his biceps and nodded.

“Do you know anyone who died?,” Adam said, and he wasn’t sure after if it was appropriate or not. Nigel didn’t get upset, only hummed and answered, “My cousin. Cancer. We were friends,” before turning around with a sniff. He looked over his desk and scratched his jaw and it seemed like that was the end of the conversation. “Shit, hold on, I forgot a, uh, chair.” Adam's eyes followed to where the other was looking and there was, indeed, only one chair placed by the desk.

Nigel quickly excused himself and walked out of the door, squeezing past Adam. He heard Nigel's quiet steps, his feet against the hardwood floor. He heard him rummaging around in the living room and decided to step out of the way from when he came back. He was alone in his room, for the second time, and this time, I could see everything he hadn’t noticed last in his panicked state. His bed was a mess of sheets and bedding and only his desk had been wiped clean unlike the rest of his room. He only had a couple posters up and one wall was covered entirely by bookshelves, the one Adam was facing now. Only it didn’t contain books. Upon a closer look, Adam could see that they were tapes, like the ones he'd played last time he was here. He had so many, more than he'd ever seen, in fact, and in one spot stood a large vinyl player, propped on the shelf. Next to it was a row of stacked vinyls, pressed flat against each other. He had a couple of small singles that Adam first mistook for magazines of some sort, but the majority were albums. “The greatest hits,” from various artists he didn’t recognize, as well as some originals.

He then heard Nigel's footsteps coming back as he turned to look at the door. When he came into the room, he was carrying a chair by the back and promptly placed it by the other one. “You still use vinyls?,” Adam asked, if only to put his own curiosity at ease. Nigel laughed, “You’re making me feel old.” He looked at the other confused, should he apologize? Nigel really wasn’t that much older than him, a year or two at most.

“I don’t know, I just like the, uh, fucking corpora…ah, physicality of it, you know? It just feels nice to have in my hands,” that much made sense to him, to him there were also just certain things that felt (and didn’t feel) nice, “Also, it just sounds fucking better.” He started walking over to his shelves as well.

“What even is this?,” said Adam. He didn’t really know much about music genres or bands, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he couldn’t recognize the vinyls nor the tapes.

Nigel rubbed the back of his neck with his palm. “Uh, its mainly just rock ‘n’ roll… and, uh.” Adam turned when he paused and watched him shake his head softly. “What?” when Nigel looked up again, his hair was all over his face again and Adam watched once more as he unsuccessfully ran a hand through it to put it back in place. “Don’t fucking laugh alright?”

“Why would I laugh?” he really wasn’t someone in a place where he could make fun of someone for their music taste, he didn’t even know the first thing about it.

“I really fucking like classical. And, you know, jazz and shit.” He tucked his hands into his pants and Adam couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him as his confused face let up. “You said you wouldn’t fucking laugh!!,” Nigel said, but he was laughing too. “I know, but… Jazz?” he should probably feel a little bad for him since he knew that being lied to would upset himself, but he wasn’t exactly the best at masking his facial expressions.

“What’s wrong with Jazz?”

“Nothing really, I guess, I just wasn’t expecting it from you.” He stepped up to Adam's side and glanced a look at his profile. “Okay, well, what shit do you listen to then? If you’re so fucking amazing.”

Adam shrugged. “I don’t really listen to music.”

He saw the other part his lips in surprise out of his peripheral. “Actually?” Adam hummed as confirmation.

“Damn…”

They stood for a while and for a moment Adam forgot about why he was actually there as he studied all the different things Nigel kept on his bookshelves, keen to know every detail of his room. There was often so much to process, it was nice to just focus at one thing at a time. He didn’t keep just music, he noticed. On the shelves were figures, bottle caps, rocks and things that seemed to have no other place. He noticed some magazines as well, this time genuine although he couldn’t make out what they were about. From what he could see, it appeared to be some pretty nerdy stuff about movies and such, not anything particularly interesting.

The older occasionally glanced at him but otherwise seemed to be lost in thought until Adam suddenly reached out to grab one of the tapes. Suddenly way too comfortable in another’s home to even ask for permission before his fingers were wrapped around the cover. And to think he used to be scared of even being in a three feet radius of the other teen. “I think I know this one,” he said, flipping the tape back and forth in his hand. It had three pictures stretched on the cover, each in their own primary colour and Adam felt he'd seen it before, he recognized the font, he thought. “Yeah, you like Police?”

Nigel stepped closer for a better look and Adam hadn’t even noticed that he hadn’t reacted to him touching his stuff, too engrossed in all the secrets he kept on the shelves. He hummed again, “I think so.”

“I can put it on if you want.” He gently stretched his hand for Adam to hand it over and looked towards his boombox. Adam placed it back on the shelf, careful to put it back where he'd found it, where it belonged. “No, we should probably get started,” he said and the other looked at him with a puzzled expression before he looked back over at the desk. “Oh, right.”

He walked back over and offered Adam his chair, telling him that it was probably more comfortable than the dining chair. But he declined, he'd much rather a sturdy chair that didn’t spin around. It always took him time to get used to new things, it was easier going with something he could somehow trust.

That afternoon, Adam finally asked about his age, the question bugging him ever since Nigel made that comment. He was right, as usual, Nigel was only a year and a half older than him at nineteen years old.

Chapter Text

The following week had felt… different? He wasn’t really sure how to explain it, what it was or how it happened but his mood had changed completely. Not for better or worse, he just felt almost more open, he guessed. Like his very particles had spread apart and exploded. The only change he could attribute it to was really just studying more? Was that really enough to change his whole routine? To spend less time with his old friends and more time at home and with…

He talked to Adam often, saw him almost every day, much to his own surprise. He didn’t think he'd ever been so obsessed with a friend of the same gender ever before. When his eyes found the others figure, his response was almost immediate, he didn’t even think before reaching out to him, leaving him wondering what had happened to him, why he had changed so much in such a short time.

Following the other boy around was no longer a conscious choice, nor was it any longer a change in his routine. It was usually always silent, at least when they were inside. Sometimes Nigel spoke, but it was rare since he could never really tell if Adam was actually interested. He guessed that he would tell him to shut up if he needed to, he was usually very straight to the point. Although he also thought himself to be a good reader of body language and Adam wasn’t particularly hard to read, anymore that was. If he’s in a good mood, he will show it, whether that be getting excited about his space shit or even sometimes indulging in meaningless chatting.

The hallways were rarely a place for such moods, if ever. Or at least was what Nigel read based on his observations. He tried to seek cover close by the walls, threading through people as he quickly made his way from point A to point B and he was very efficient at it. It was clear he was bothered by the noise, occasionally covering his ears with his hands as Nigel had seen him do before.

He hadn’t even realized how close people walked in the hallways, not before Adam. And not before the other curled in on himself after some dick walked straight into him. Nigel immediately turned around, standing tall in the crowd. “Hey!,” he said, loud enough to be heard over the other students, “Watch where you’re fucking going!” he curled his fists, what the fuck was this  prick doing, bumping directly into Adam. Was he fucking blind?

“Sorry,” he said and Nigel wasn’t very happy with that answer. Although there probably wasn’t one he'd be happy with anyway. “If you were really sorry, maybe you wouldn’t walk around with your fucking dick in your hand,” he said, although the other was already too far away to hear him. When he looked back at Adam, about to say some shit about the guy, he was surprised to see that the boy had stopped a few inches away from him. he was staring down the floor, head tilted down as he flexed his hands manically. He looked like he couldn’t breathe, his chest rising and falling rapidly yet no air got in. This was the Friday night situation all over again. Adam's jaw tensed and he saw a muscle feather there. Last time, getting him somewhere quiet had helped him calm down (as well as not embarrassing both of them in a room full of their peers.)

“Come on,” he said and walked toward the other, about to lead him outside. Adam didn’t budge, however and Nigel ended up standing there, looking a fool as he stared at the younger. His hands slowly found their way into his hair. Not the way he did when he petted it flat, but to the point where Nigel was almost afraid he'd start ripping it out. “I have class,” he managed quietly, his voice breaking and becoming more a low rumble. Nigel guffawed. “You’re fucking hyperventilating in the middle of the fucking hallway, you’re not going to any shitty class.” He only hunched over more and his hands started squeezing his head. “Seriously, your schedules or whatever can’t matter that fucking much,” he snapped, his words becoming hard and quick like lashes of a whip. Adam managed to sink lower and he sighed in response, irritated.

He could barely make out a breathy, “You don’t get it,” as Adam started actually pulling on his hair which made Nigel part his lips in surprise, still he snapped back, barking out a, “No, I don’t.” He was getting genuinely mad now. Why wouldn’t he just listen? He was clearly hurting himself by being here, he truly didn’t understand. “I’m fucking leaving, you can come if you want,” he said finally before stomping away. As angry as he was in that moment, he hoped too that Adam would come with him. He didn’t want to think about what staying there alone would do for his mood. Or god forbid, he tried to get to class in that state. He sighed.

Soft pats against the floor were heard behind him and he exhaled finally, waiting for Adam to catch up before taking him outside. He clearly still wasn’t well, but like last time, he saw as he physically relaxed once getting outside. His hands slid out of his hair and onto his chest, fisting his shirt roughly before rubbing at the fabric. That gave Nigel enough confidence to take his eyes off of him for a moment and he spotted a cement staircase hidden away by the school building. “Do you want to sit there?” He pointed at the cold steps, yellowish leaves and flimsy twigs had landed on the surface, but they were all stuck in the corner, leaving the middle free. Adam jerked his head in what he took as an agreeing nod and they made their way over to it.

Nigel leant over the short wall housing a metal handrail and watched the other take place on the steps, finally placing his hands in his lap and beginning to fidget with the hem of his shirt. He dared speak once Adam's breathing had calmed. “You okay?” He nodded in response and that was all Nigel needed to know. They stayed in silence for a while until Adam started to bounce his leg, probably thinking about how class was starting in a few minutes and how horrible it was that he was out here and not in attendance. Nigel grabbed a cigarette before quickly asking, “Is it alright if I smoke?” He grabbed the lighter in his pocket then.

He watched Adam grimace before mumbling a “Yeah.” He laughed at that and lit the tip with his flame. “You don’t look like you mean that,” he chuckled before stepping around the wall to sit next to Adam on the steps. He told himself it was because of the wind, that he didn’t want to blow smoke onto the guy he clearly didn’t like the smell. He didn’t have an excuse for sitting so closely, (yet far enough to not bug the other, of course.) He took a few drags and leant back on his elbow, propping it on the step behind him. By the time either of them spoke again, he'd already stomped out the cigarette.

“I’m autistic,” Adam said then, suddenly and Nigel turned his head to look at him, half expecting to just stay here in silence however long the other needed. “Oh, shit,” he blurted out, “It’s not terminal or anything, right?” he leant closer to the other boy, a little concerned. “No, it’s a neurodevelopmental disorder. I was born with it.” He looked at the older, meeting his eyes for a brief second before flicking away like usual. He was surprised the other even looked at him after what had just happened. He seemed much calmer now.

“Oh, so it’s not like.. contagious.” Despite his question, he leaned even further into the other. Although Adam only chuckled, looking away again, gazing at the greenery a couple of feet in front of them. Nigel chuckled too, although he wasn’t sure why. Relieved, he guessed.

“No, it just means I am the way I am. It’s why I do or say inappropriate things in certain situations,” he said, “It’s why I’m so weird.” The words sounded flat and uninteresting. Like he was talking about something casual like the weather. Or the way his science teacher explained the structure of matter or something boring he didn’t care about. “I’ve always liked that about you, that you say things as they are. You don’t fucking dilly dally around a topic until my tits sag to the ground,” he said bluntly, “And you’re not weird,” he added.

“You know, one of the traits of autism,” Adam
 said then, turning to look at him and Nigel perked up, “Is struggling to tell when people are sarcastic or lying. But even I can tell that’s a lie.” He huffed.

“You’re not weirder than I am,” Nigel returned, finally leaning back again, allowing the other some breathing space. “I doubt that,” he said finally, running his hands over his jeans as he watched. He didn’t want to argue though and kept quiet as he watched Adam’s hands silently. The light shone just right and he could make out each of the tendons with every movement. He had nice hands, he thought. Big but with slender fingers, veins that caught in the shadows and ran up his forearms, like they were made for grabbing heavy things instead of tapping along his knees or fidgeting with his collar. He moved suddenly, snapping the other out of his thoughts as his gaze moved from stone washed jeans to the younger’s profile. He tugged his legs closer, resting his chin on his knees like he had in Nigel's bed. “I didn’t get upset because he walked into me, you know? People say I overreact.” People say a lot of dumb shit, he almost blurted, but he was too intrigued by the other’s words. “Oh, fuck, really? I just thought it was your whole ‘no touching thing’,” he said instead. Not that he was judging, to each their own. Besides, it might have had something to do with his brain disorder, he blanked the term.

“Touches are fine, as long as they’re done right. And they’re expected,” he explained and Nigel was about to ask further before he continued again. “I had a fight with my dad. Arguments and things like that can make my day a lot harder to get through. That with having to go on the train to school, a place filled with noise and people, and back, only amplifies it.” His eyes flickered back and forth in front of him, as in thought. “I suppose it’s the same for neurotypicals, I just get effected easier by smaller things. I have a hard time regulating my emotions like others and sometimes that results in a meltdown.”

“Neurotypicals?,” Nigel asked calmly once he had finished. “People with a typical brain. Autism is a type of neurodivergence, just means it’s different from the norm.”

“Ah.”

He supposed that made sense. Adam had always seemed a little sensitive, Nigel just attributed it to weakness, he guessed. He just thought he chose to be weird or something, that he couldn’t be bothered to at least try to socialize. It was a lot to digest, although Adam explained it well, practically spoon-fed him it. Although what Adam lacked in social skills, he made up for in intelligence, something Nigel couldn’t exactly brag about. He liked learning about Adam, he found. He wanted to know more.

Carrying on with his day was a lot easier after the breather he'd taken with Nigel, although he still couldn’t escape the guilt settling in his limbs and weighing him down. He almost never missed class and had definitely never knowingly skipped to sit outside with an older teen smoking cigarettes on campus. Even so, he made it through the rest of his classes, to, on and from the train and all the way to his front door before letting himself in and starting on his homework, if only to make up for the minutes he missed out on.

When his father came home, he cooked dinner like usual and called for Adam to set the table. “Jesus, you smell like cheap cologne,” he said as soon as Adam came close to him. “I was with Nigel.” It had stuck to him all day, not the way it did when they sat close together and he could smell him on the sleeves of his shirt, he was doused in it in a pathetic attempt to cover up the smell of smoke. He certainly didn’t want anyone thinking he was smoking during school hours, and on that ground, Nigel agreed. Not wanting to drag him down with him, he'd said. It didn’t stop the smelling from bugging him all day though, it stung in his nose and made his head hurt like crazy. He thought he'd grown used to the smell, it didn’t bother him as much when Nigel wore it, but having it stick to him like that was enough to make him insane. He'd changed his shirt first thing after getting home, but evidently, it hadn’t been enough to get rid of the scent entirely. Thank God he had to shower later, even though he wasn’t religious.

“Yeah, you smell like smoke, too,” his dad said, familiar already with the aftermath of a day spent with Nigel. “I skipped class.” His dad turned to look at him then. “That’s not at all like you, Adam.” He didn’t think he was mad. His father rarely ever got mad, even when Adam got upset, said things he didn’t mean. He never raised his voice at him either, which he was grateful for. There was nothing he hated more than loud sounds, situations where he didn’t know what to do. Still, he couldn’t help the guilt that made its way back through him. “I know. I had a meltdown and Nigel took me outside. It was nice,” he explained. When he looked back at his dad, met his eyes, he was smiling and Adam couldn’t tell why.

“What?”

He turned around again and grabbed their food to put on the table. “You know, Nigel seems like a really good guy. I’m glad he met you, Adam. Save for the smoking, tell him not to do it near you, please.” He raised his eyebrows at his son and he couldn’t help but think that last comment was unnecessary. He'd never get close enough to someone smoking where it could be dangerous, if not for the side effects, then the smell. Getting used to it didn’t mean he liked it, nowhere near it. “He doesn’t,” he put a couple glasses on the table, “Or well, that depends on your definition of the word. He makes sure its blowing in the other direction, it’s very considerate,” he admitted. He didn’t think he'd ever flat out told him he didn’t like it, he just somehow knew. It was quite impressive.

“I care deeply about your education, you know that. But I think you worry about it more than I,” he said suddenly, then chuckled, “I know that. You don’t have to go to class if you have a meltdown or get overstimulated. I know you enough to trust you never skip class without reason. Don’t worry so much about all that, just be a kid, alright?”

“I am a kid.” Both legally and biologically. He didn’t even understand how you were legally considered an adult at 18 if your brain only fully develops in your twenties. More specifically, he didn’t understand why his father always told him that. It was as if he was trying to tell him, ‘be a person,’ as if that was something you decided and not something you were.

“No, I know, I’m just saying. You get good grades, you’re smart, smarter than I ever were, and you’re passionate about your studies. Just try your best to have fun. Make some friends. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” said his dad. ‘Make some friends,’ he always told him, easier said than done. It wasn’t exactly his top priority. He didn’t even know there was someone he'd want to be friends with, never mind succeed.

Or well, there was one person. Although he wasn’t sure what to call their relationship. Tutor and student, he guessed, if that still went for people who ate lunch together.

By the time their conversation ended they’d sat down to eat and Adam appreciated his usual meal as his father ate his own.

The next day carried out as usual, he got into his jeans and sweater, ate his all-bran, packed his things and left the apartment. Nigel found him by noon and they both went outside like usual. He'd been spending less time with his friends, not that Adam minded, of course. He never understood the appeal, although he hadn’t understood the appeal of Nigel before they started hanging out. He was brass and rough. Had a weird sense of humor and loved everything Adam did not, hated everything he didn’t. But he was caring too, something he hadn’t expected from their first meeting. As ignorant as he had seemed, he looked to actually want to know about his problems, wanted to know how to help. He thought the things he said, the way he was, was meant in malice but he soon understood it was the opposite.

They settled on the staircase they’d found the day earlier, Adam with his usual lunch and Nigel with a canned drink of some sort he didn’t know. As it turned out, their new spot was a lot quieter than where they had used to sit, and even though he maybe didn’t love change in his routine (as discovered by the other by now) it was worth it here. “Thank you for yesterday.” He opened his lunch box and Nigel cracked his drink open with a loud pop and a sizzle. “You’re fine,” said the older and took a sip. Adam watched him lick his lips after. “No, I have a hard time expressing my feelings so people can’t tell when I’m grateful. I am. For the first night at your place as well, thank you.” He watched Nigel set his beverage on the stairs before angling himself toward Adam. He looked away. “I only did what I wanted to do, it’s not a big deal. You’re fine.” Knowing him the way he did now, he couldn’t exactly deny that. Nigel did only do what he wanted to do, not caring about other’s expectations or thoughts. He only did what felt natural for him to do. The same way Adam did, he guessed.

He grabbed his sandwich, cut vertically, the only way to do it, and took a bite. He was already done with one half when Nigel spoke again, now holding his can once more. Condensation dripped from the aluminum onto his fingers. It would be getting cold again soon with the fall approaching. He was glad to enjoy the last few moments of heat the summer could squeeze out of the sun. “You mentioned your dad. Yesterday, I mean. Can I ask?” Adam hummed, not sure what to expect but happy to talk about him. He loved his father.

Some time passed before Nigel asked again, “Uh, what happened between you?”

“Oh, uhm, he just said some things and I got mad. Sometimes I think he just has too high expectations for me, you know? I got upset.” He started tapping on his lunchbox as he spoke, deep in thought. He felt Nigel's gaze on his hands but kept looking at the ground. “Yeah, I get that.”

“You do?” Nigel laughed and he looked up to watch the small smile on his face, showing off his fangs as usual, as he had come to appreciate. “Too high expectations for a teenage dirtbag from an immigrant single parent working as a healthcare professional? It’s not exactly a new phenomenon.” He wiped his upper lip and his smile faded with the gesture. His hand stayed on his face and Adam thought he might be chewing on his nails. “Your mom is a healthcare worker?,” he said.

“Yup, nurse. It’s why she’s never home, always sleeping when she is.” He had a hard time making out what the other was saying with his hand in front of his lips, but he got the gist. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, not knowing what would be appropriate to do in the situation but deciding it was his best bet. Nigel nodded and looked his way. His eyelashes cast long shadows on his cheeks, Adam thought he looked quite pretty in the sun like that. “You shouldn’t chew on your nails like that, you could get infected,” he quickly said, changing the subject. Nigel chuckled and breathed out a thanks. He thought he might be sarcastic, although wasn’t sure.

Nigel drank once more from the can and Adam picked up his other sandwich. “Seriously, are those fucking sandwiches all you eat?” He quickly took a bite before shooting a confused look in Nigel's direction. “No? I eat all bran for breakfast and my dad makes mac n cheese with broccoli and chicken for dinner,” he explained. Nigel looked at him for a while, lips parted, brows raised before that smile broke through again. “Holy shit, dude. Seriously?” Adam bit his lip and nodded. “You need to eat a salad or something, man. Or some protein for those gains.” He gave his bicep a squeeze and Adam looked up at him. “Right, sorry.”

“It’s alright.” He took another bite of his sandwich and stirred a little in his seat as they both stared ahead. “You’ve got more muscle there than I expected, you work out?,” Nigel said. Adam hummed and chewed on his sandwich. “Damn, you should wear short sleeves more, you’d never know,” he looked at Adam and smiled, “That would definitely impress the ladies. And to think you got all that from fucking wheat and berries, ha.” He chuckled and finished his drink shortly after, allowing Adam to eat the rest of his sandwich in quiet.

Chapter Text

So, Darko’s friends had been right after all, Adam was retarded, although he wasn’t sure if that was the correct way to say it. Autistic?, he thought. Something like that, something neurological, he'd said. He didn’t look too handicapped, although that may just be Nigel speaking from how he knew him. Sure, he wasn’t normal, but who was? Certainly not himself. But he was smart, as earlier determined, caring as well. He cared about Beth, cared about his father, he could tell that much. He looked over at Adam's profile, studying the way the light hit his face, where it created shadows. His eyes fluttered for a second, running over the text in front of them. He was honest, that was always a positive trait to Nigel. He was enthusiastic, he'd come to find out. He loved his weird nerdy interests, science and space and what not. He enjoyed studying everything around him, life. Looked at critters moving around, sometimes told Nigel when they sat in silence for too long and he forgot to act all mysterious and shit.

He'd been stuck on a problem for a while, not caring to try again or ask for help like he probably should do, instead he sat and looked at the boy next to him and tapped his pencil against his neck. Their study sessions had evolved into a more usual study session, no longer as student and teacher relationship in its nature. They just sat and did their own thing, Nigel occasionally asking Adam to help him out with something when he didn’t have the patience to figure it out himself. The techniques had actually helped. Instead of telling Nigel how to answer his homework, he explained how to understand it himself so he didn’t need help in the future. Although that much was failing right now since his patience gave out a long time ago.

He found out soon that the other wasn’t always clad in his tightly updone shirts and button downs, he'd started showing up at his house in normal graphic tees, looking almost like a normal teenager. Although the sweaters stayed, a must with the changes in the weather, looking more so in the direction on coolth rather than heat.

Though in his house, which Adam reminded him for some reason stayed hot always even though Nigel couldn’t tell, he'd shed the warm layer and stayed in his worn shirt, sporting the periodic table in the front. He saw now that he had been right the other day, with his arm propped up on the desk, you could really see Adam's muscles, the way they flexed when he moved. He wasn’t jacked or anything, but definitely more toned than he'd expected.

He stopped tapping the pen and averted his gaze. “The other day,” he started and Adam hummed in response without looking up, “you mentioned, uh, that people have to touch you in a certain way.” He watched Adam write something down, although he could tell he was listening even so. “Can I ask what qualifies as ‘alright touches’?”

“Yeah,” said Adam.

Right, he'd forgotten for a moment.

“So, what would that be?” Adam finally looked up then, putting down his pencil carefully and watching him for a moment. “Oh, uhm, I don’t really like anything unexpected, so preferably, I’d have to see it. I don’t like it when people touch me from behind if that makes sense.” He started looking ahead as he spoke, his eyes dulling and occasionally flickering back and forth. “Yeah, it does.” He ended up saying it way quieter than he meant to and Adam glanced at him for a second. He sent a nervous smile back in return. “It also has to be relatively firm, otherwise it makes me jump. Kind of makes my skin crawl.” He leant back and inched a little away from the desk to reach over to Nigel's side. His hand stopped by his knee, hovering above it and he stared down at it, a little surprised, studying the veins and tendons in his hand as he had done before. It looked awfully soft so close.

He looked up to see Adam already staring at his face, as if asking for permission. He nodded without much thought, not used to the other asking with his body language rather than words and a little unsure if his answer had been enough confirmation. It seemed it had been, for right as he was about to verbally tell him yes, Adam grabbed his knee firmly. “So,” he gave him a squeeze,” like that. Just enough so I can actually feel it. It’s kind of the opposite of what people assume, I think.” He retracted his hand again and the cold it left in its place was almost devastating. He shook out the feeling with a quick bounce of his leg and returned to his usual posture of leaning over the desk in a way that definitely wasn’t healthy for his spine. He half expected Adam to just go back to writing, but he only sat there, right next to him, and looked him over.

Nigel placed his hands by the edge of the table, drumming on it with his fingers before pushing himself back again and putting them back on the desktop. He nudged his hand closer to the other and asked hesitantly. “Can I…?,” he trailed off, looking at Adam's oh so soft appearing hand and he responded back, “Yeah,” equally as soft as his own. He reached out then, wrapping his fingers around Adam’s hand tightly. It was warm, a bit unexpected since he thought he must always be cold, packed away in all those layers. He kept his fingers squeezing with his breath hitched. He wasn’t sure why, he'd touched him before, he was a very physical person. Suddenly, to his own surprise, he felt almost nervous. Maybe it was the intimate nature of it, of having to be given permission and having it granted. Of being accepted, if only by your same-sex friend.

Adam stayed still, not frozen like he had been before, but relaxed. He licked his lips and Nigel looked him in the eye then. Adam didn’t meet it of course, looking somewhere in the direction of his ear, but it was close enough for him to notice just how blue his eyes were. He was sure they were even more vibrant in the sun. he'd always liked people with  blue eyes, always found them beautiful. Maybe it was because of his own, almost black looking, dark brown eyes, but he'd always appreciated the beauty of it. Gabi had blue eyes, not quite as pigmented as Adam had now, but icy and cold, stunning.

“You can relax a little, you know?,” said Adam, chuckling a little and Nigel followed, he might have over done it a little, wanting to make the other comfortable. He eased his grip, realizing suddenly how long he'd kept Adam’s hand wrapped in his and hesitantly withdrew it, already missing the touch when their hands parted and Adam put his in his lap. “Usually, I don’t like it when people touch me.” Adam started fidgeting with his now unoccupied hands in his lap. “Really only my dad can, and you I guess.” That made Nigel smile. He didn’t think he'd ever been so glad being granted permission to touch anyone non-sexually before. He was glad he hadn’t messed it up when he got the chance.

“Oh,” said the younger, “And Harlan.”

Harlan??

He couldn’t help but feel a little surprised by that.

Sure, it made sense he wasn’t Adam's only friend but he'd never even heard of the guy before and it seemed Adam was pretty comfortable with him. It wasn’t like he wanted to play the hero or anything of course, he sure as hell wasn’t one, but he guessed he thought he was the first to truly get to know the guy. As hard as he tried to push them down, feelings of jealousy and possessiveness pushed through. He couldn’t help it, of course Adam should have other people in his life, but deep inside he wanted to be the only one. It was in his nature, the need to own and protect the people he cared about, and it seemed the other had squeezed himself into that title. Someone he cared about.

“My aunt does it wrong,” he said suddenly and grimaced, “You know when people give you those really loose hugs like they don’t want to touch you either?” Nigel propped his head onto his hand again. “Uh, yeah..,” he said. Then, “Who’s Harlan?” He couldn’t help it, he needed to know the people around this boy. Maybe it was a childhood friend of his. Maybe he came much later than the people already in Adam’s life.

“Oh,” he said, like he'd forgotten people needed more context when he said things out of the blue again, “He’s my dad’s friend from the military.” Nigel raised his eyebrows. “I spent a lot of time with him as a kid,” he started, “I think it’s pretty hard to take care of a disabled kid as a single parent. Especially since I was homeschooled for most of middle school.” Nigel only nodded as Adam went on his little rant. Much later indeed. This guy, Harlan, was practically his other parent, as far as he could tell by the boy’s words. His ears warmed a little and he hoped his hair was long enough to cover it, if Adam would even notice it, did it not. He did have a habit of overthinking, especially when he was with Gabi. She told him multiple times that he needed to stop being so possessive, that it was a toxic trait and it scared her sometimes. Chrissy too, although their relationship was never that serious and she would just leave when he got like that. That trait must extend to other people as well, people he wasn’t even romantically involved with. He ran his hands through his hair at an attempt to shake those thoughts from him.

“He sounds like a nice guy,” he said instead, desperate not to let Adam know about the feelings he'd tried so hard to hide. It was a polite answer and light enough for them to gloss over all the new information he'd just been given about his family that he would definitely think more over once Adam left later that day. “He is,” said Adam simply and it seemed to be the end of that conversation. “Did you need help with anything?,” Adam said after they’d spent enough time in silence and Nigel awkwardly drowning in his own self-hatred and old memories of arguments with ex-girlfriends. “Oh, right, uhmm, I don’t understand what that means,” he said, glad to change the subject as he pointed at the problem he'd been stuck on before their conversation had even started. Adam leaned in closer to read what he was pointing at before sitting back again. He sat quietly for a while, clearly thinking about how to best explain it so that someone like Nigel could understand. “It’s hard to just explain, you’d have to understand the basics first. Where do you keep your Edwin E. Moise books?” He looked obviously towards Nigel's bookcases, filled with everything but books, yet still searching for what he was obviously needing.

“Who?” Adam turned back, smile playing on his face, as if proud he caught what he assumed to be Nigel's joke. Although it soon faded when he saw the dead serious, yet curious look on his own face. “Edwin E. Moise.” He scrunched his eyebrows together as if this was someone Nigel should know. He only shrugged and Adam looked around, hoping what he was looking for would appear out of the blue. “This is why we should have stayed at the library.” His tone quickly turned sour, an unexpected change from the lighthearted conversation they’d had only moments prior. “Can’t you just explain it to me the way you usually do? You’re very good at making it easy to understand.” He wasn’t usually one to give compliments, especially not to other guys, at least not about their personalities, but he could tell Adam wasn’t currently having the best time and hoped his little comment would help. It didn’t.

“It would take too long and we don’t have enough time.” Something told him the problem wasn’t actually the books, but something more, as he had explained the other day. But just as he was about to mention that they didn’t actually have to work on that problem today, he instinctively reached out to ground the other. He quickly grabbed around his arm, as caught off guard by his own actions as Adam himself. It seemed he did it right anyway, as Adam soon overcame the initial surprise and started taking deep breaths to calm himself. “We can work on it next time and I’ll explain it to you in full detail,” he settled on and Nigel looked him over before suggesting something else. “Or I can go to the library and get whatever the fuck it is I needed and I can read it before Saturday so you don’t have to fill me in.” He wasn’t sure his spur of the moment promise to read something before a deadline would hold, especially since he didn’t even know how much he'd be reading. But he had said what he’d said and he wasn’t about to go back on his word now.

Adam looked him over for a minute, thinking about it. “That would work,” he decided then and he began to calm enough for Nigel to retract his hand confidently. “Was there anything else you needed help with?,” he said hesitantly and Nigel soundly slammed his notebook shut, turning to face him finally. “I think it’s about time we talk about Beth.” Adam looked at him with surprise before parting his lips to speak. “Why?” he sounded almost surprised and oh so very concerned. “I think we’ve spent enough time doing fucking homework.”

“Oh,” he said, “I don’t think your advice is helping.” He got right into it without even looking at Nigel, although that usually meant he was actually thinking about the topic. “Oh, I’m the fucking problem?,” he joked before even thinking about it. Adam didn’t seem offended though. “Partially, your advice isn’t working for me.” Alright, smartass. He did make a good point though, he hadn’t taken into consideration how god awful this guy was at social interaction. Nigel had gotten used to it of course, as he expected most people would after getting to know him. But reading his expressions and body language was hard when you first met him, maybe even creepy to some. “Well first of all, you need to stop fucking stalking her, it’s really off putting for her.” He turned to face Nigel. “I don’t stalk her?” It clearly wasn’t meant to be a question but became one anyway. He raised a brow at the other. “You follow her around all the fucking time, that’s weird.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, dude.” Had he really not noticed? Even Nigel considered it odd, and he'd been called ill-mannered more than once, particularly when it came to girls. “Well, I can’t walk up to her. Not like you.” Adam leaned over the desk top and they were finally facing each other. He was already starting to look tired even though they had spent nowhere near as much time as they usually did studying only. “Yeah, I’ll figure something out, in the meantime, just stop following her, okay?”

“I’m gonna have to wait for that, too?” He was straight faced as he said it and although Nigel knew he could be a little impatient at times, he didn’t look upset, at least not as far as he could tell with his sup-par reading skills. “I’ll think it over next week, and read that book you wanted, and well talk about it later, da?” Adam gave a small nod before stretching out his back. “Why? You that impatient, Raki?,” he teased. “No, I was just wondering if I should leave now or if you wanted to talk about something else. Do you want me to write down the name of the book?” Nigel scrunched his eyebrows together. He didn’t usually seem in such a rush to leave. He stayed roughly the same hours the last times and they hadn’t yet reached that point, at all. “Uh sure,” he said, a little confused and slid his notebook over to the boy who looked up at him for a while before confirming he actually wanted him to write the name along with everything they’d just worked on. He flipped a page and wrote the name and author in the corner with short, quick pencil strokes before sliding it back to the owner.

“You’re leaving, already?,” Nigel asked when his brain caught up to his ears. “There’s no reason for me to stay, is there?” No, not really, he guessed. He almost argued that Adam shouldn’t leave since it messed up his schedule before realizing how cowardly that would be. Not to mention that he most likely had already thought it over and was grown enough to decide what he did and didn’t want to do. Instead, he tried to casually suggest staying just for the fun of it. “I could play some music if you want. I have a couple records you could check out.”

“Why?” as much as he couldn’t blame him for not taking a hint, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed still. “I have those police records you found. You could also just tell me about your space shit. It would be kind of a waste for you to walk all the way here to only stay for a little. We could wait till the time you usually leave.”

He wasn’t new to this.

“…Alright,” Adam answered and Nigel exhaled for a reason he wasn’t sure of. Adam could rarely resist the opportunity to talk about his interests and he had a habit of taking advantage of it. And if he got to listen to Adam talk so excitedly, even learning a thing or two in the process, that was only a plus. He got up then and felt Adam’s eyes follow the movement. “What are you doing?” He walked toward the bookshelf and ran his fingers over the vinyl covers. “Getting the fucking records.” He went through the process of opening the glass cover, sliding the vinyl from its sheath and placing the needle atop the spinning record. “Oh,” Adam said and static began to sound from the player. “Why?” Slowly the intro to Synchronicity I began to open. “I can’t concentrate with that in the background.” Right, he forgot how noise sensitive Adam was. Unlike himself, any background noise bugged him out, made him all crabby and irritable. “I’ll turn it off then,” he said in a joking manner and turned to the shelf it was placed on. Before he grabbed the needle though, Adam hesitantly said, “No, leave it. I’ll tell you later.” Nigel raised his brows and looked at the boy, although he'd already turned around, facing the desk. Nigel turned the volume a little down and sat back down in his chair, watching Adam zone out to the music. He leaned back and focused on the songs himself, enjoying their tempo and lyrics.

It seemed all that silence, both left alone to their own thoughts, awakened Adam's want to tell about his special interest, growing stronger than the background sounds behind them though. And he suddenly opened his mouth to tell Nigel about something he had read the other day. He needed to ask a few initial questions, with the statement coming rather out of the blue, but after he understood the basics, he sat back and enjoyed listening to Adam talk, only confirming he was still listening when he asked if he was getting bored. He told him an in-depth explanation of space environment effects on solar arrays as well as giving him a refresher on LDEF since he deemed Nigel needed it and simply had to remind him of how important this was for the future of research.

He got up once to flip the record and by the time the last song faded out, Adam was still happily chattering away even though Nigel’s brain had turned to mush by that time and he had to tell that nothing was registering. Adam didn’t mind, only deciding to go through a deeper explanation of the topics as if that would help and Nigel was only content to listen to the other yap excitedly. Adam left later than he usually did that afternoon, packing up his things and leaving Nigel alone for yet another night. It lingered though, the feelings that always stayed when he'd been with the other boy. Maybe it was the excitement he felt shared by the both of them when he got invested in their conversations. Maybe it was the thought that graduation was possible, the hope that he could amount to something. Or maybe it was having a friend without expectations for how he needed to act, someone he could be himself around as Adam could him.

The walk home was calm and he'd left in a good mood. He trudged his way up the stairs and opened the door to his apartment, taking off his jacket and bag to put in their places before greeting his father to tell him he was home. His dad was in the kitchen, checking his wrist watch and turning around to look at his son. “You’re home later than usual.” Adam nodded and watched the man turn back toward the counter where he was chopping vegetables. “Yes, Nigel showed me his music. It was alright but the bass was too loud.” A swift chopping noise was heard as the knife met the board once more. “It’s nice he wants to share his interests with you. He probably cares a lot.” He nodded in response even though the other could not see it with his back turned and spun around to walk back to his room.

“Oh, before you leave,” Adam's dad glanced after him and he stopped to listen. “We still need to plan for Saturday, we have to celebrate.” He knew Adam wasn’t fond of trips out of the house on Saturdays, but they’d decided it was alright for now since doing it before or after his session with Nigel would only be worse and he didn’t want to cancel that. It wasn’t that bad usually, they kept to places he was familiar with and only stayed for as long as he was comfortable with. Having his dad with him outside helped too, didn’t feel as stressful when he knew he was looked out for. He gave another quick nod and left for his room. “Think it over!,” his dad called out after him and he shut the door behind him.

He kicked off his shoes and crawled onto his bed, deciding to pull out his homework once more since he'd been interrupted mid-page and too distracted to finish it at Nigel's house. His brain went quiet as he sat there with only the light from his window and his pencil in hand. Just him and the predictable, what he knew. He liked being with the boy but putting all of his focus into a single task as mundane as science problems helped ease his mind after hours spent in the presence of someone else. Whether he liked the person or not, it was still more work being around people he wasn’t entirely familiar with. He finished his work quickly, leaving his room after to help his dad with setting the table and contently eating his dinner like usual. He went to bed calm with the knowledge Nigel would work out a solution for them.