Take my heart

Chapter XII

First week of school and they already have homework, which is about how they'd expected their last year to go. They're dispersed in one of Adryan's living rooms, sitting a little straighter than usual because his mother is around and they're all—with no shame of admitting it—terrified of her.

Darren occupies one end of the green velvet love-seat, newly acquired reading glasses on, highlighter in hand and book on his lap. Connor is on the floor with his back to the sofa, chewing on a macaroon and staring blankly at a chemistry paper. Adryan, full of his usual restless energy, is now at the window, tapping his foot on the carpet and skimming over his notes. Caesar, the first to finish his homework for the day, on the couch opposite Darren's, sits back and watches them.

It's a good sign the four of them are here: Darren has spent the past few days slightly miffed at them for hounding up on Lee and giving him 'a talk'. In his defense, Caesar muses, Lee Jung is a fucking menace, classical musician or not, and Darren is as experienced in all things relationships as a lettuce. Besides, they weren't even mean to him. Darren should have seen this coming when he chose a bad boy as a boyfriend. Classical musician or not.

Anyway, it is very likely he is here mostly because Adryan's mom is in the house, and Adryan gets rather nervous when that happens. As if on cue, the boy paces back to the coffee table, drops his notes and grabs his tablet, all with a frown darkening his features.

Caesar feels the backside of Connor's concern before it is voiced.

"Should we go do something else?" Connor says, to no one in particular. "Maybe visit Dawn at her job or..."

"None of that," Caesar shoots him down. "Finish your damn paper first, then think about going anywhere."

Connor gives him a half exasperated, half pained look.

"Dude, I have no idea what I'm reading."

Darren looks up from his book to observe their interaction, but doesn't say anything.

"That's because you're not paying attention," Caesar says.

Connor puffs his cheeks. "Of course I'm..."

"You're forgetting the point," Darren points out, and they both follow the gesture of his chin at Adryan, who has listened to none of the conversation and is now holding the tablet too close to his face, mumbling under his breath.

"See, that's why I said..."

"Auntie won't be pleased to know his son is with his girlfriend when he should be studying," Darren interrupts Connor, taking his glasses of and putting them on the table. "And you do have to finish your own stuff."

"Are you siding with Caesar right now?"

"No. I still don't like him."

Caesar rolls his eyes, but Darren barely spares him a glance before getting up, grabbing a few macaroons and walking resolutely to where his best friend is slowly losing his mind. Without a word, Darren connects his earbuds to his phone, sits crisscross on the carpet, next to Adryan's feet, and waits. After three seconds, Adryan sits down as well, still focused on whatever he's reading on his tablet. He accepts the earbud Darren offers him, puts it to his ear and almost immediately grimaces.

"Wagner? Fuck off."

"Pick something else," Darren shrugs, halfway through his first macaroon. "I'll listen to punk rock if you want to spite your very traditional mother."

"Punk rock it is."

Caesar curls his upper lip, but when he turns around he finds Connor fondly shaking his head.

"You don't take care of me like that," he mutters.

"And you do?" Caesar says.

"I just nursed you back to health like, a week ago!" Connor whisper-shouts. He makes it sound like he found Caesar half dead on the street, took him in and saved his life.

"Fine, whatever. What do you want me to do? Need help with chem?"

Connor makes a pathetic face at his unread paper.

"Maybe."

"Sit with me and we can read it together..."

"No, nevermind."

Caesar blinks. "What?"

"I won't focus if I'm... I mean... You don't let me concentrate."

"Since when?" Caesar says. Connor gestures helplessly, until Caesar loses his patience, stands up and makes his way to the couch. He touches the back of his knuckles to his friend's temple and gets a huff in response, but Connor obediently hands him the papers.

After Caesar takes one end of the couch, Connor takes the other, shuffles in his spot, and decides against a decent sitting position. Instead, he drops his head on Caesar's lap and lets his legs dangle off the other armrest. Caesar gives him an unimpressed look.

"Okay. I'll read it for you, and you pay attention, yeah?" he offers the familiar deal. "If I catch you zoning out I will kick you."

"Why would I do that? Your voice is my favorite sound in the world, bro."

He smacks Connor forehead with the paper. "Shut the fuck up."

Caesar starts reading from the beginning, perfectly aware Connor paid attention to none of it on his own. He doesn't understand a single thing—it's something about aromatic compounds, whatever those are—, his father didn't want him to waste his time on natural sciences. The man will sure be happy to know Caesar is, instead, wasting time on his stupid friends.

He doesn't remember starting it. And yet, when he pauses between a paragraph and the next, he realizes his hand is on Connor's face, absentmindedly tracing his features as he reads. Connor doesn't seem to mind, eyes closed and helping him pronounce the weird names, so Caesar doesn't stop it. His mouth goes on about double bonds and ring structure, his finger taps on the spot where Connor's dimple appears.

Somewhere near the window, Adryan is still hunched over his own homework, and Darren is typing away on his phone—texting Lee, Caesar assumes, or Dawn.

Halfway through the second page, Connor grabs Caesar's hand from where it was fidgeting with the collar of his green pullover and brings it close to his chest. He then points out the right way to read a compound name full of numbers and dashes, Caesar mutters a "yeah, that" and keeps going.

Connor's heartbeat thrums steady under his palm. He's idly playing with Caesar's hand, pressing their fingertips together, tracing the shape of his nails, drawing circles over his knuckles. Caesar has to make a conscious effort to keep his gaze on the paper. This isn't exactly new; Connor touched his hands a lot when he and Ash were learning how to draw them. He would fix Caesar's fingers in all kinds of positions, alone or holding stuff like pencils, and Caesar would just sigh and keep still.

So that bit isn't exactly new. The weird feeling in his stomach, however, is. God, he's not getting ill again, is he? Connor won't forgive him.

He swallows and forces himself to keep reading. After another page, Connor stops his fiddling, maybe to pay attention to a paragraph. It's not until two pages later that Caesar realizes that's not it at all. He holds the paper out of the way to glance down at his best friend.

Sound asleep. Fucking idiot.

Caesar glares at him with pursed lips, and considers pushing him to the ground for a second. Tempting. That is until his eyes trail down, and he finds his hand on top of the boy's heart, and Connor's holding it there, a familiar weight that spreads warmth to his whole body.

He gapes at the sight for a moment. His own heart lurches in his rib cage, and he looks away with a strange tightness in his throat.

Darren catches his eye and makes kissy noises at him.