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History / Brotherhood

—Serge—

These fuckers…. Well I guess they didn't actually invite me, I just happened to overhear and then they felt obligated, still. Back in London for less than a month after being stationed in Belfast for however many years, wanted to look in on the old gang. Going to a concert down in Brighton, sounds brilliant! Who's playing? What should I wear? I should have just… yeah…. Never heard of The Darkness and I'm dressed like a twat and they bailed on me at the doors. Whatever, balcony ticket, no one will see me or care plus the music isn't… no, never mind. Screechy ballads at this point. I could almost, almost get Queen from this song at least but I am just so done. Five years is too long, people move on, make new friends, and their plans no longer include you. It was stupid of me to think they would especially given… gleaner... and most of them were in security. Best football team at Central though! Back in the day, at least. I'm so tired of being sent out on these long instalments. There are only so many ecological studies I can do. I get why, sure, everything must be recorded, but… I had started to make a life in Belfast. Met a cute lad who wanted nothing more than to just work in his da's pub. He was so cute, and human… even met his folks, we were making plans, he'd started to want to see more of the world, and… then I got recalled.

It was just like five years ago, that cute Stoat training to be a gleaner. And he and I had started chatting… and we got close, started making plans. He was so… and then I had to leave off to Northern Ireland to 'interface' with the local branches…. At least I got to say goodbye at his graduation. We tried the long-distance thing. After a year it became hard. After two it became impossible. After three… I tried to move on. Met Daniel at his da's pub and things went from there. After four years we were having Sunday roasts with the family. After five… recalled to London. I couldn't do it again, couldn't lead another lad on. It was all so sudden… I basically broke up with him over text. He called, I answered, we… shouted it out, but realised it wouldn't work with my, well, work (not that he ever knew what I really did, never understood why I was out in the bogs and villages every week). He belonged there, but I did hope he would see other places. He deserved that and so much more. So here I am, feeling like shite, happened to overhear a conversation I shouldn't have about going out and having some fun, right? Why wouldn't I want to go? Feels like a cruel joke. Drove an hour to see them at the doors and then they ditched me for the floor section and I'm here in the balcony. At least the bar's close, most of the folks around seem nice enough, and some of the songs are okay but… (“GET YOUR HANDS OFF'A MY WOMAN MOTHERFUCKER"). I've been here long enough, sunk cost fallacy and all, one last drink and I'll just camp in the car and drive back once I've slept it off. It's an Institute let after all.

And that's when I see him. He's… not looking good, sitting off in the stairwell such that you wouldn't spy if you weren't looking. But I did. Dammit. I open the door and slowly go to sit next to him. He looks spaced, like proper out in the atmosphere and he's not happy. Must have taken something beyond his ken.

“Hey, erm… y' feelin' alright?" I wasn't really expecting an answer. He almost can't give me one, his head ratchets around and his eyes are full of panic. Shit… okay, it's fine, best thing to do is just to keep him safe until it wears off. “Hey, it's grand, don't fret. I'll sit with ye… i-if ye fancy." He nods. Okay then, didn't see this coming. “Did ye come along with anyone?"

“They… not…." He's trying, but everything in his brain is misfiring, hopefully this is the end of his trip. Always darkest before the dawn, right? “They… scarpered…."

“Aye? Mine did as well." The conversation should help clear the fog, right? “Do ye like the band?"

“A-aye, love rock," he says. He's dressed like it, like me, and I feel like a twat but on him it looks good. Shredded sleeveless black shirt, jeans with a bunch of holes and too many straps and belts, and underneath it this too skinny pale lad with chestnut brown hair (just like Daniel… just like Cress…) who just wanted to come out and have some fun and instead he got….

“I've never caught wind of them before, dinnae ken if they're me cuppa, like?" I say, trying to keep his brain moving. He shakes his head violently.

“Nowt wrong with that… we like what we like." He's blinking like if he stopped he'd lose his eyes. “Mates… thought they were me mates… they… did… summat…."

“The lads ye came with? Did they do somethin' to ye?" Of course they did. Guess I'm one up on shitty friends, mine didn't dose me to get rid of me. “Is this a regular thing they pull? Ye doin' alright?" He just shakes his head and buries his face in his arms, crossed over his knees.

“Not… mates I reckon."

“No shit." I want to reach out, put my arm around him, but I don't want him to think I'm attacking him so… I just… rub my shoulder against his, hoping it's enough. “I reckon yer probably past the worst of it. How long have ye been here?" He doesn't know how to answer, how could he? Time hasn't existed to him for a bit, not in the traditional sense. How long have people been ignoring him in this stairwell? He obviously needed help! I guess just… people entirely engrossed in the music… which has now turned a bit softer based on what I can hear in muted echo.

“I-I want ye to stay put, I'll be back in a jiffy, right?" I make sure he looks me in the eyes, nodding after a moment. They seem to be sharpening, a beautiful honey colour. I leave the stairwell and head to the bar, the line suddenly interminably long, but eventually I can buy a fucking bottle of water. I go back to the stairs and he's gone. Panic. Okay, where… fuck's sake. He just went up closer to the balcony doors, probably so he could hear the music better. That's why he came here after all.

“Hey!" He looks at me, eyes are definitely more focused. The song is singing about… “dancing on a Friday night?" That's the line I've caught at least. Almost sounds like music. I head up and hand him the bottle of water. “I didn't go breakin' the seal or the like, just so ye ken. I just wanted to be sure ye got some water, make sure yer alright, aye?" He twists the cap off, the sounds of plastic threads breaking, and he sucks it down like a fish in a desert. When he finishes, he finally breathes.

“Thank ya," he says. He looks embarrassed. Seems like it's passed, enough at least. He should be fine. “Ya… didn't have to do any o' that… but thank ya. Me name's Cre-“ but it's drowned out by the crowd in the auditorium going bonkers for the next song.

“Nae worries, go enjoy yerself!" I say, shouting now that we're closer to the music…. He smiles and heads up, standing in the stairwell door. I turn to leave, making it down about half a floor when I hear what the lyrics are saying: I believe in a thing called love, listen to the rhythm of my heart. I keep walking. No, he wasn't doing good, and I haven't…. I wanna kiss you every minute, every, hour, every day. Fuck it, let's get my heart broken again. I run back up the stairs, turning on the landing and my feet slip out behind me. Chest and knees are the first to hit the stairs, thankfully I was fast enough to catch my head, but I've definitely scraped up some skin and these jeans are a mess (last time I buy cheap clothes). Mask is fine, disguise not broken. No worse than footie injuries, sure, but then I look up and he is staring right at me. My whole body burns. He runs to me, looking panicked.

“A-are ya alright?" he asks, standing a couple steps up on me. Something in my head… I didn't catch it when he said it, but his name….

“What…" gasping for air, choking down embarrassment, “was it ye said yer name was?" He smiles, almost sadly.

“Crescent," he says. My heart bursts, surely not…. I shift my weight to my left arm, still splayed out on the stairs, and move my right arm up, fingers across my heart. His eyes go so wide they might swallow the sky. He looks at me, like he's trying to figure out a long-abandoned puzzle.

“Ya… didn't tell me yers…."

“It's Serge." I can almost see the dam of tears breaking behind the disguise. He's still shaky but, hand over his heart, close enough. And here is the love I lost so many years ago, maybe, if the universe is kind….

“I… I'm sorry about graduation day," I say, and I mean it. Finding my hands again, I right myself on the stairs and stuff myself against the wall. That was a super shitty time to tell him I'd been shipped out. “I…" And he will hear no more of it. His lips are on mine in a flash, they remember the way through the disguise to find mine. I put my hands in the air. “Wait, no! I mean… are… ye sure yer alright…?"

“Serge Bowsprit, gleaner PML… something, I remember ya! I hate ya! I…" His lips are on me again, and this time I let them. “I remember ya, and I hate ya, I… I…." You know what? That's fair. His mouth finds mine again, breath hot. I believe in a thing called love, listen to the rhythm of my heart.

* * *

“Briar Rose University?" I ask. It's been some months since the concert in Brighton and we're at one of the canteens in Central, almost like I'd never left. Almost. We're at one of the small tables, just the two of us, near one of the windows looking over the descending landscape as it terraces towards the proximal circuit. It's raining outside so the dome is cloudy, but no actual rain in the arcology today. It's late for lunch so there are only a few other people here right now.

“Aye, the autumn term is just about to start, it'll be me second year. It's interesting learnin' from humans, with humans, and livin' among them," says Cress, looking distant. “I know yer havin' doubts about bein' a gleaner still, maybe ya could join me? It might help ya get a different perspective, ya know?" He turns and stares out the window, the grey clouds reflecting in his golden eyes. I reach out and put my hand on one of his and I feel his body relax. His fingers open and take mine.

“Are ye certain about the whole 'livin' with humans' bit? Seems a bit risky." He turns to look at me, his eyes are so beautiful… and sad. I hate whatever is making him sad, I just hope it isn't me.

“I've been a gleaner fer five years, and ya've been one fer longer. We've been trained to deal with danger." He isn't telling me something. We haven't talked about what happened at the concert, I don't want to press him on it, but I have a bad feeling. I walked away from him once before. I won't do it again.

“So, tell me about the university."

* * *

My phone rings, lighting up my room in one of the dorms in Central, and I jerk awake. It takes a few blinks for my sight to return as I look at the display: nearly 2am… and Cress is calling me. I feel my stomach flutter, the feeling of sleep draining.

“Hey, Cress, what's the craic?" I ask, trying to sound very calm. There's a choking sound on the other end, and then crying.

“Serge…?" I hear him say, his voice wet and ragged. “I need help."

“Where are ye?" My eyes sharpen as I throw the sheet off, looking around for my clothes.

Less than half-an-hour later I'm running out of my Uber and into Hyde Park. I've only been to the house once, but I remember where it is: across the bridge and to the right, the signage for it hidden by perception filter but I'll be able to see it. The muscles tense and release, the memory of speed returning to my legs. I've been out in the field but I haven't been actively running in years. I throw open the front door. No one is in the kitchen to the left or the lounge to the right. The RA's door is cracked open. Up the stairs a couple of the guys are outside the bathroom, one of them looks worried. I haven't really met them, but I think Cress told them about me.

“You.. you're Serge right? Crescent's boyfriend?" One of them asks when he sees me moving up the stairs. I think his name was Hudson?

“What's happenin'? Where's he at?"

“Rich (the RA) was laying into him again, I… don't know but he hasn't come out for hours," he says, motioning to the bathroom door. My stomach drops, panic overtaking everything. I try the door (locked, of course). I give it a few gentle taps.

“Crescent? Darlin'? It's me… are ye alright?" I hear a shuffling sound, muted sobbing, the scrape of stone on… glass? I take out my phone and hand it to Hudson. “Ring fer an ambulance." Done from my phone 999'll reach Section 9 at the Institute and find an Animal paramedic, maybe even police. Please, please let me be overreacting. I slam my shoulder into the door, shattering the frame, and all I can see is red. Blood is splashed over the floor, Crescent is sitting propped against the shower with a nasty gash in his arm bleeding through his disguise, shards of a broken bottle nearby, a large bloody fragment in his hand. No, please, no.

“Cress?" In an instant I am next to him, bits of broken glass in my shoes and cutting into my legs as I kneel next to him but I don't care. I pull the mask from him, dropping his disguise so I can check the wound, and it is… bad. Not accidental, could never be. I grab his arm, trying to clean the blood away from his fur so I can see just how bad it is, trying to stop it. His eyes are wet and empty, but he is breathing. “Cress, darlin', please talk to me. Please." There's some bog roll, I don't know what else to do, I wrap it as tightly as I can around the wound.

“Please," I beg, kissing into his neck. “I know… I left but… please… don't leave me." I keep wrapping, hoping it will be enough, I don't know what else to do.

“The ambulance is on… holy shit," I hear from behind me, I guess Hudson. I don't care, extraordinary rendition, or something like it. This house is going to get nuked tonight. I look up at him as he comes into the bathroom.

“Tell me exactly what happened." I grab my phone from his hand. He's trying to figure out what to say, how to react. “Hudson!" I really hope that is actually his name. “Tell me what happened tonight."

“Ah, Rich was shouting at him, calling him a fag 'cause he wouldn't … I don't know, that's how Rich is." I might kill a man tonight. I look Hudson directly in the eyes.

“Hold his arm, if any more blood spills I will end you." He is terrified of me. Good. He scrambles further into the bathroom, grabbing Cress's arm and trying to stop the bleeding. I'm big and stupid, fine, and I will not let this go. I storm from the bathroom and down the stairs, ripping my mask from my face. He is going to see the face of rage. I force the RA's door open.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO CRESS?!" I'm still shadowed by the light from the foyer, he can't see me really, at least not yet.

“The fucking poof deserved it, waste of potential for the school, trust me." I hear from a non-threatening and non-threatened human sitting on a sofa watching TV. I am livid.

“That 'poof' is me boyfriend," I say storming in, form in full view. “Tell me to me face." He casually looks up and his face goes slack, eyes wide in disbelief. “Ye made him feel like he's worth less than nothing. Yer a fuckin' homophobe and… speciest… Yer… a fuckin' dick!" I don't even remember punching him but there he is, unconscious on the floor, and I cannot imagine feeling angrier about anything else ever. I can feel the tears on my cheeks. I pull out my phone, dialling Institute security directly.

“I need an interdiction team, 'round three, to my location. Also, dispatch someone to arrest me. I just attacked a human out of disguise." I hang up, staring down at his unconscious body for a moment before going back upstairs, wiping my face with my palm. I don't care anymore. The other guy makes way upon seeing my actual form but doesn't seem to panic. Hudson, bless him, has been doing what I said, trying to keep the wound closed.

“I can take it from here, thanks." I slip in next to him, taking Crescent's wounded arm. “How did things spiral to this point?" I'm not actually asking but after a moment I get an answer.

“He's...," Hudson says, trying to find a voice in front of something he's never seen before. “Rich he's… Crescent got the worst for being openly gay... this I, I…"

“In an hour ye won't recall a thing so spill, tell me all of it." And it's like a faucet, all the bullying all the hate, and he's been living with this for a year? He kept trying to get me to come here but he didn't tell me… he never… dammit.

“And where were ye in all of this?" I. Am. Livid. Still clinging to Crescent's arm just waiting for this puny human to flounder a response, but….

“I was with him!" says Hudson. “I'm on the LGBT student council and I've been arguing with the school for months about Rich, I… didn't know about… this. What are you?" It won't matter.

“I'm Crescent's boyfriend," I say looking down at his barely breathing body in my arms, more scared than I have ever been in my life. “I love him, and if… if… well it better not come to if." I'm trying to sound commanding, but I am broken. Please don't leave me…. Hudson is next to me, trying to help, trying to calm me down, and soon I hear the sirens. Crescent on a stretcher I think is a vision that will haunt me forever because I couldn't prevent it. The rest I accept willingly. The lads in the house get brainwiped (and Rich sent to hospital for unspecified facial trauma after the paramedics were sure there was nothing life-threatening, worth it) and I get held in containment in Central because I admitted to willing exposure and assaulting a human, even though he deserved it. So long as Crescent is safe… I don't care.

“You are hereby confined to the outer reaches of Central command, namely the city of London and its outer boroughs. Your duties as a gleaner are stripped temporarily. Mr. Bowsprit… I understand, but please, please don't make things more difficult than they have to be, alright?"

“Ya can't leave?" asks Cress, still in a medical bed. Magic will have stitched the wound perfectly, but the trauma that led to it… and… that house, those people, that dick, and….

“Will you?" He's asking but I wasn't listening to what. And my face is showing it, I'm sure. He just looks so weak in that bed and either way I would do anything for him.

* * *

Six months later there's a hearing in front of the school council. Dick is brought up in front of tribunal and expelled for his behaviour. No one in his house defends him. He was, it seems, a dick to everyone. No one remembers what happened to Crescent, just that he had to go to hospital for a while. I'm not going to tell them, but I do go to the house almost every day. The door I broke has been fixed, the blood long since cleaned. Hudson and the other guy (I think his name was Marc?) are in the first two bedrooms at the top of the stairs, Crescent is in the third but when I open the door he's not there. The window at the far end is open, I walk over and see him sitting on the balcony, legs crossed, breathing in the afternoon sunlight. I walk out and sit behind him, straddling him with my legs and lacing my arms around his midsection. The hair of his disguise is silver now to match his winter coat. I bury my face into the back of his neck, breathing him in, feeling his hidden soft fur under my face. He doesn't move, but I can feel him relax. He isn't good yet, not by a long shot, but he is better.

“I talked to Central," he says finally. There's silence, like he wants me to ask about what, but I'm just going to let it rest. I take a deep breath and hold it, hold him. “They've approved me transfer. I'm goin' to be a herald now." Silence, a breath.

“What does that mean?" I ask, afraid of the answer. Another breath.

“I'll be helpin' to prepare the humans… ya know, for when we can no longer be 'idden." Another breath.

“Does that mean yer leavin'?" He turns his head, looking at me with one eye.

“Nah ya numpty." He smiles. It's so warm, and I squeeze him tightly into me. “Yer crushin' me." I relax my grip. “I'm not going anywhere, I'll be doin' it as part o' this school, workin' with the students here. And… I wanna ask ya summat." He wiggles out of my arms and turns to face me, grabbing my hands. He looks scared and I would do anything to get him to stop.

“What is it?" Silence, held breath. His eyes are darting like he's trying to read something written on my face. “Cress… yer scarin' me."

“Will you move in… with me?" I can't help but laugh. He punches me in the shoulder but there's no malice in it.

“Darlin', of course I will."

“Good. I was… worried ya might say no."

“Is there enough room? I'm big and stupid, like?"

“We'll shove the two beds together, it'll be right. And stop that, yer not stupid." He grabs my face, and my breath leaves me. He looks so happy now, and I want him to always look that way. “Plus, it'll make it easier for ya to get to classes if yer not 'aving to come from Central every day."

“Oh… ye were aware of that?" I talked to the disciplinary committee, and they thought it was a good idea when I brought it up. I'm not really going to be a gleaner anymore and something Cress had said before stuck with me, about getting a new perspective. But I didn't want to tell him yet because I didn't want him to think I was just doing it for him because of…. Well, that was part of it, but only part.

“It came up when I were talkin' with Director Andrews about becomin' a herald. Why didn't ya tell me?"

“I felt embarrassed, didn't want ye thinkin' It was all 'cause of the strife, 'cause it's not. If I'm not gonna be a gleaner anymore… it's like what ye told me before. Bein' with humans and gainin' a fresh perspective and all that. Marc and Hudson seem like decent folks at least." He's still smiling, the most beautiful thing I could ever imagine. I can't help but to smile myself, though pained, not wanted. I failed him….

“Hey, ya alright?" He rubs my arm, the static of his touch finds me. I just give a nod. He accepts it. “I've been ponderin' something else. I don't want to be Crescent anymore. Crescent were… the lad who got left behind, who got bullied, who died. I was thinking maybe… Dexter? How does that sound?"

“Comin' from yer lips I couldn't love it more. Dexy, me darlin'." He clings into me, a surprise, and I gladly accept it, wrapping my arms around his back, a hand on the back of his head, holding his face into my neck. We can leave all of the pain behind and start fresh, together.

* * *

“Nah, Marc an' Hudson have shifted into their own flats, so rest of this term and th' summer it's just us," Dexy says making eyes at me over the top of one of the sofas in the lounge. “An' I've got grand news! Th' board's given me approval! I'm th' new resident assistant for this house! I'll be able to make this a spot where… where we can all live like brothers." He looks so happy. I just wish he could be happy forever. He's taken this place that did so much damage to him and he wants to turn it around, I can't fathom it.

“So… what do ye wanna do?" He looks thoughtful for a moment, then pulls the keyring for the house out of his pocket.

“Right, I'll have to see that all th' rooms in house are sorted, let's kick off with ours?" Ours, the word still sounds alien to me. It feels like so much has happened since Dexy asked me to move in with him. Christmas and the New Year came and went, and now we're nearing the middle of February, just about a year since we reconnected at that concert in Brighton. I have something special planned. I just hope he hasn't seen it. Since I've moved my stuff from Central (which isn't much, admittedly), it's been a bit of an adjustment. We would be over at each other's places for days at a time when he was training to be a gleaner, but it didn't carry the weight of living together.

Now, here, outside of Central, it feels different. Less secure, but not in a bad way. Maybe I'm just letting my bad memories get in the way of something that could be really great. I know Dexy has nightmares occasionally about it, even though he tells me it's nothing. He'll wake up stock, crying, arms twitching like they're remembering the motions of that night, and I will hold him close to me, his face in my neck until I feel his arms grasp around me and eventually slack into slumber once more. And then I'll cry for a moment because I couldn't stop it from happening at all, kissing the side of his face gently to not wake him back up, pressing my lips to the top of his head, breathing him in until I can fall asleep again myself.

The key slides into the lock of the RA room and the door opens. Immediately near the door is a bit of shelving that looks like it's made for things like coats and shoes, a large bookcase next to it, both built into the wall. Further in I can see that sofa, now covered in a cloth. Dexy doesn't react much at all beyond curiosity, examination, but the memory of that dick floods back to me and I can feel my jaw tighten.

“Hey, alright?" he asks, looking at me with caring concern. It's been months. It might never feel totally 'safe', but I need to let it go or I can never be totally happy here with him. And I know one thing that will definitely help to making it feel more 'ours' than this phantom of a bad memory.

“Aye, I was just hopin' there might be room for somethin'." I dash out of the room and up to our (old?) one at the end of the hall at the top of the stairs. I stuck it underneath our bed once I got it, I don't think he noticed, I just hope he'll like it. Carefully I take the unassuming brown box back downstairs. Dexy is in the room proper, looking at the small table and chairs he's removed the covers from. The other doors inside the room are open, which seem to lead to an empty bedroom and a small but nice bathroom (no more having to share with the whole house will be nice, not that it was really ever much of an issue with the four of us).

“I'm hopin'…" I can feel my voice catching in my throat, “ye'll take to this, that it will be a reminder of the good times." I hand him the box and he is smiling but it's betrayed by the confusion in his eyes. He opens the box, removing the packing paper and he stops, staring in. He looks up at me, mouth open and his eyes are starting to look sad… I fucked up….

“Ya fell on the stairs," he says looking back at the box and removing the black shadowbox from inside. “Ya fell, tryin' to keep a brave front, and ya asked me what me name was… and your jeans got all torn up." He looks at the pair of torn jeans with too many straps that I had been wearing that one time at a concert in Brighton and never again. I had hoped that it would be a reminder of our reunion, that it would be happy, but…. “And I told ya that I hated ya. Said that I remembered ya and I hated ya but… that were a lie. Can ya forgive me?"

“Of course, darlin'," I say in almost a laugh. I don't know what he's feeling right now, he looks like he wants to cry but he sounds like he wants to…. And I get my answer when his lips press to mine, still remembering the way through the disguise. He sets the shadowbox on the table and grabs at my face.

“It'll just be th' two of us here for a bit, we likely can go without these." He pulls my mask off, breaking my disguise before doing the same to himself, tossing the masks on the table as well. He still looks the same, my precious Dexter, though now silver in his winter coat. Half a head shorter than me with those cute round ears and those gorgeous honey eyes. He grabs me and with a surprising amount of force pushes me onto the sofa, straddling my lap and pressing his lips against mine, breath hot. I panic for a moment, but only a moment, and my hands find his back, running up inside his shirt to press against the fur on his back and pull him closer to me. Our mouths fully enclose one another's, a mix of breath and saliva and tongues wrestling. The fear and hate are gone, distant memories, replaced with heat, with love, with passion and protection… with dreams of unity and brotherhood. But before that, just for this moment, there is Dexy and me on this sofa, and I am less scared than I have ever been in my life.

* * *

“Brotherhood," I say. Dexy is sitting on the beanbag chair and looking at me like I've got something stupid written on my face. His eyes dart down and then back up to my face.

“Were ya moonbathin' naked on the balcony again? I get th' rest o' th' lads ain't arrived yet, but ya probably shouldn't be doin' that with Lazuli's window right there."

“He was grand with it, joined me fer a bit, we were chattin' and that's when he says 'brotherhood.'" He's still not following. He climbs out of the chair and over to the doorway, grabbing my hands. I can't help but feel a spark shoot its way down my arms, through my heart, and to parts below. “That's what ye said ye wanted this place to be, like a brotherhood." He looks a little lost for a moment, but then it comes back to him.

“Aye, I did say that didn't I?" He smiles, but his eyes are distant, lost.

“So let's do that. Like the American fraternities, a ceremonial brotherhood! We all vow to… stand by each other, support each other, never abandon another. Nothin' official, like, but it might help the house to really be what ye wanted: where we can live as brothers." His eyes are sharpening, looking off somewhere beyond where I can fathom, thinking things I could probably never begin to understand. But then they return, brighter, happier, with a purpose.

“That's genius," he says, releasing my hands and grabbing me around the waist. “Yer right bloody brilliant." A small gasp escapes my lips at his sudden change in touch, and I wrap my arms around his back and pull him into my chest, breathing in his scent. I feel a murmur from him, something contented. I shift my arms downward, scooping them beneath his legs and hoisting him up. He releases a brief shriek at the surprise, but then wraps his legs around my torso as I carry him off to our bedroom, burying his face in my neck and nibbling at it. Nothing makes me happier than when he's happy. Feeling his touch, seeing his smile, they excite me.

The day after the mixer Dexy asks all the lads down to the lounge. Parents and guardians are long gone, the term yet to begin, for a time it will just be us. He's got the lights low, the fireplace is lit, he's even put candles out on the bar. He's dressed in his hoodie with it pulled down so that shadows cover his face (it's adorable). He's standing at the front of the room by the big windows, I'm here behind him. The rest of the guys look… confused mostly. Lazuli looks like the only one who's in on it but even he is a bit bewildered. They're standing in their pairs: Lazuli and Raphael, Toby and Blake, Carter and Puck, for some reason, fanned out in front of Dexy. There's some faint music coming from somewhere, I guess from upstairs, not part of what Dexy's doing, but what I can catch it sort of fits. 'Confounding destiny…?' I think I just heard.

“Gents, I've brought ya here for one reason," he says, putting on a dark voice. I choke down a laugh, it doesn't suit him at all, but I will let him do this with no objection. I can feel the heat from him, he doesn't like it either, he's embarrassed, but no one can see. Probably only the Animals can feel it. “Look to yer left, then to yer right, these are yer brothers. Ya should do everythin' in yer power to back 'em up."

“…What is this…?" asks Blake. I feel the heat rising.

“See," says Dexy pulling back his hood, “I just wanted to do summat fun fer all a ya's, summat that might help link us all together like brothers. We're here in this house, we should look after each other, right?" His honeyed eyes flash in the firelight. The Animals don't react, nor does Lazuli, but Carter and Puck seem to come around, more on board with this whole rigmarole. I guess he's better at this whole 'frat' thing than I thought. The Animals, we're already bonded; Lazuli… he wouldn't betray us, wouldn't react badly to our coming out, I'm sure of it. And that just left the other two humans, so I guess if they're willing to play along….

“Then so be it!" says Dexy back in the dark voice, hood back over his face. “Yer all now brothers of Stone. Affirm yer convictions by drinkin' this, the blood of th' brotherhood!" He holds up a coffee mug filled with a dark liquid.

“Wait, really?" Puck asks. I grab the mug and take a sip. It's Ribena. I swallow a laugh as well, handing the mug to Puck. After it makes the round Dexy necks the rest of it.

“With that welcome yer brothers! The brotherhood of Stone!" he says, arms stretched wide. No one moves for a moment, then Lazuli picks up the lead.

“Well, as one of the first brothers of Stone, I'm glad for it, to be brothers from another country with all of you. You make this feel like home." There's something calculating in there and I can't fathom it, but it's exactly what Dexy needed, and I'm jealous I couldn't do it for him. From there everyone seems to relax, even Raphael who has just been so uptight since the mixer yesterday. I think there are still some bottles of drinks we didn't mix for the punch yesterday left in the fridge. I head out and grab them and the cups. The mood is definitely lighter, seems I can even hear the music a little louder. It's like the mixer but… more intimate: it's just us lads here now. Blake disappears for a bit and comes back with a bottle of rum. Dex and I exchange looks.

“Be very gentle with that," he says. “Fun's one thing, but ya needs to look out fer yer brothers." That honestly seems to affect something in him, because he is very stingy in pouring it. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all. A place where we can live as brothers.