Don't Tell My Brother

Chapter 48 - Ugly Crier

Damien let out a surprised little 'oh', and went still. "What're you doing?" He asked, and Lucas was relieved to hear he sounded more confused than angry. "What is this?"

"You're not getting on that bike." Lucas said again, voice slightly muffled by Damien's shirt. "You don't have to talk to me," he couldn't deny he was hurt Damien wouldn't, but if it was time and space he wanted Lucas would give him that, "but I'm not going to let you do something dangerous."

"Oh my god." Damien muttered. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

When Damien drew his next breath, Lucas heard shake. "Fuck. You stupid fucking idiot, I didn't want to cry in front of you, can't you leave anything alone..."

But he did that thing Lucas liked so much, where he'd look skyward and rest his chin on the top of Lucas' head. His arms came down around Lucas' shoulders, pulling him against him, and now Lucas could feel his breath shudder in his chest.

"I don't mind if you cry. Crying's good. It's how our bodies deal with overwhelming emotion, so really, it's perfectly natural." He could've gone into the science behind it, but even Lucas realised that this wasn't the time.

Damien took a deep breath. It didn't seem to help much. "I look like shit when I cry." He mumbled, reaching up to run his hand through Lucas' hair.

Lucas pulled away a fraction so he could take look Damien directly in the eye. "You? Look like shit? I don't think that's possible. Aren't you the one always saying you're irresistible?"

And, much to his relief, Damien laughed. His eyes were shining in the moonlight, too bright, too wet. "You haven't seen me cry. I promise, I'm ugly."

"Not to me. Not ever."

Damien's face crumpled. "Ah, fuck." He muttered, pulling away and reaching up to scrub at his eyes, wiping furiously at the tears that threatened to overflow. "Stop it. Shut up."

But there was no heat behind his words. Lucas just held him, thankful for the empty street, thankful for the tree they stood underneath, thankful for the night's darkness that hid them both.

Damien seemed to have pulled himself together. He sunk down to slump on the curb, long legs folded until his knees were almost at his chest, staring into the street. Lucas sat beside him. For a while, neither of them spoke.

"Do you want to try talking about it? Just a little?" Lucas asked cautiously.

Damien sighed. "I know this is dumb. I shouldn't be all upset about this. I'm lucky, really. They're not going to kick me out, they didn't call me a slur, they didn't even throw anything at me, and Ma's done that before. Should probably be grateful, or whatever. There'd be tons of kids who're homeless, or dead, or something." He didn't sound grateful. He was quiet, quieter than Lucas had ever heard him, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Someone else having it worse doesn't make this any better." Lucas pointed out. "It's worse for a lot of people, but that doesn't mean this can't also be bad." He leaned over, resting his head on Damien's shoulder. Damien didn't shrug him off. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault."

"That's not what I meant. I'm sorry it happened to you."

"It's dumb." Damien muttered. He leant to one side, let his head lie against Lucas', cheek pressed to his hair. "I was just so stupid. Sure, I was nervous, but I guess I always thought that they'd be okay with it. That even though it was new to them, and they didn't understand it, they'd love me enough that none of that would matter. But that's not how it works." He laughed. It was forced. "Obviously."