Thomas Brodie-Sangster never thought he'd find himself crying on the shoulder of his best friend. He never thought that his family would just... abandon him like that. But here he was, with both of those things occurring all at once.
"Hey Dylan?"
"Mmm?" His best friend's usually warm, brown eyes were now frosted over, sadness and anger and frustration in them.
"Do you ever just... want to escape?" Thomas sniffed, trying to stop acting like a child. They were barely 20 years of age and were almost still kids, at least in the way of experience.
"All the time, Thomas. All the damn time."
They sat in silence for a moment. Being outside, at a park, on the swings, they watched the kids play. They were both wishing they could go back to when they were younger, not worrying about things like being gay and having your family be disgusted by it.
"If you want to, we can go."
"What?" Thomas wasn't sure what Dylan had meant, not in the slightest, and yet he knew his answer would be yes. For Dylan, he always said yes.
"Do you want to run away with me? We can pack our things and leave a note and just... drive. For as far as we can go."
Thomas looked away from the playing children to Dylan, his tired eyes wide. "Where would we go?"
"Anywhere. Just drive away, follow the highway and see where it takes us." Dylan blushed a little. How stupid could he be? The idea sounded so much better in his head, and Thomas would never-
"Okay. But Dylan, do you really mean it?"
"Yes, duh. I wouldn't've said it if I didn't. Let's go. We can get your things tonight and then you can sleep at mine, and we can go in the morning." Dylan sounded so sure of himself, and Thomas couldn't help but smile. Two hours ago, he thought he'd never smile again.
~ ~ ~ ~
The wind blew back Thomas's hair as he leaned out the open window slightly. Dylan watched him from the driver's seat with a small smile and cranked up the radio.
Thomas turned back to him with wide eyes. It was their song, and they were gonna sing it if it was the last thing they did.
"I hopped off the plane at LAX, with a dream in my cardigan!" You couldn't even call it singing, they were yelling at the top of their lungs with the wind carrying their voices away and down the highway.
"The taxi man turned on the radio, and the Jay-Z song was on!" They froze, waiting for the beat drop, and then broke into song again, louder than before.
"So I put my hands up, they're playing my song, the butterflies fly away!"
Thomas glanced over to watch Dylan, still singing. His best friend's honey eyes shone in the light of the afternoon sun, and the wind danced through his dark hair. He looked beautiful, there was no denying it. But Dylan was as straight as a ruler, and he was not about to kiss Thomas like he very much wanted him to.
~ ~ ~ ~
A transport truck was driving beside them, a little bit behind. It had been there for a while, keeping a constant speed with them down the highway. The woman driving it had purple hair and a tough, no-nonsense look to her, which made the next few moments surprising to Thomas.
"Hey, Dyl?" He turned to Thomas, who had a look in his eye that made Dylan suspicious. "I have an idea, don't freak out."
"What are you gonna do?" Dylan frowned as Thomas rolled down the window.
"Watch, kay?" He unbuckled his seatbelt and hoisted himself almost all the way out of the window, holding onto the roof for balance.
"Thomas!" Dylan's heart stopped and he tried to drive with one hand while the other reached for his best friend's waist. If Thomas fell and died, it'd be the end of his world.
Showing no fear of leaning over the highway, Thomas lifted an arm and waved, signalling the driver. The woman looked, and he pumped his fist up and down. The woman smiled and pulled her horn, the truck letting out a loud honk. Thomas cheered, flashed her a thumbs up, and ducked back into the car.
"Damn, that was great." He had an exhilarated smile on his face, his blond hair all wind-blown. "I didn't even think she'd see me, i mean, that was a pretty big truck and we must be so little from where she's sitting-"
"You dumbass, you could've died!" Dylan tried to sound angry but he had a playful grin across his face. "Plus, who wouldn't have noticed someone leaning out of their car, waving like an idiot?"
"Shut it." There was a softness in Thomas' eyes, and his smile was real. He didn't look so anxious or upset. They were only a day into their vacation, and it was already helping him piece his life back together. It was silent for a few moments, the radio playing that one Ed Sheeran song everyone seemed to like. Dylan became aware of the fact that his hand was still on Thomas' waist, and he panicked a little. Not because his hand was on his waist, no, that felt good and familiar. Because Thomas may not feel the same, and he didn't quite feel like confronting those feelings currently.
"Dylan, I need to peee," the blond boy turned to him, whining. It broke him out of his thoughts and he just shook his head and laughed. He was glad that Thomas had said anything though, and he pulled his hand away, resting it on the wheel to make a turn.
"I'll watch for a rest stop."
They drove ten more minutes until Dylan found one, driving slower and slower up the driveway.
"Dylan, I'm going to fucking explode. Hurry up." Dylan just quirked his brows and went slower.
As soon as the car rolled to a stop, Thomas practically flew out of the door. He was inside the building before Dylan even got out of the car.
~ ~ ~ ~
Warning: Homophobia
"How may I help you?" The man at the desk of the hotel they were looking to stay at for the night greeted them with a sneer. He was older, his hair as white as the paint on the walls. He had stared at the boys as they walked in with obvious disgust. They thought it was because they were laughing quite loudly and being sort of disruptive, but the reason why soon became clear.
"We're looking for somewhere to sleep for the night, got any open rooms?" Dylan gave the man a smile, setting the drink they were sharing on the counter to get out his wallet.
"Will you be needing two?"
"Just one, thanks," Thomas said and matched Dylan's sweet grin, as much as the man rubbed him the wrong way. As he punched it into his computer, the man looked as though them sharing a room was the nastiest thing he'd ever heard.
"The only rooms we have available only have one bed." Dylan turned to Thomas with raised brows, and Thomas shrugged, nodding.
"Yeah, we're good with that."
"You will be in room 250, second floor," the man looked as though he might barf and handed Dylan the debit machine. "So, are you two... together?"
Thomas was about to answer but Dylan beat him to it. Angered by the obvious hate the man had thrown at them, Dylan reached for Thomas, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him close as he paid. "Yes, we are, sir. Is there a problem?"
The man turned red, "You boys are sins. Stains on our world, created by the devil. You should be ashamed."
"Well sir, I can't say that we are. I've paid, can we have our room card?" Dylan had a vicious look that darkened his warm eyes and a tight grip on Thomas' waist. Thomas didn't really know how to act, but he knew that he wanted it to be real. He pressed as close to Dylan as he could, and when the man turned to get the key, he whispered in his ear.
"I hate him."
Dylan turned his head, and their noses were touching. They heard a gasp, and turned to see the man, absolutely fuming. Thomas reached out and snatched the key card from his grasp. Dylan picked up both of their bags, handed Thomas his, and then took his hand. They left the desk clerk looking as though he may explode, and hoped someone else would be working in the morning.
When the elevator doors closed behind them, they both let out a little sigh. It was silent for a moment, and Thomas backed up against the cool metal wall, leaning his head against it and squeezing his eyes shut.
That man reminded him of his family. Ava's heartbroken expression when she was huddled on the stairs, tears streaming down her face as their parents yelled at him and shoved him out the door. She had tried to call him, but he ignored it. He was glad she hadn't tried to reach him during their road trip.
Dylan realized their fingers were still entwined, and brushed his thumb over the back of his hand. His voice was soft and gentle, warm and welcoming. "Thomas."
Thomas opened his eyes and turned his head toward him, showing that he'd heard.
"Thomas," Dylan started again, because he wasn't super sure how to begin. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah." His voice was a whisper, though he had not intended it to be. The elevator dinged and the doors opened, and the hallway was silent as they walked to their room until Dylan stopped and spoke again.
"No, you're not. Thomas, you're not okay. And that's fine. You've been through so much, angel. You deserve to feel better, but it's going to take a little while to get there. And it's okay, I'm going to help you get there."
Thomas was crying, and let go of Dylan's hand only to wrap him in a tight hug.
It was a beautiful sight, the two boys clinging to each other in the middle of a hotel hallway in a town they'd probably never visit again.
~ ~ ~ ~
They lay side by side in the hotel's clean bed, the crisp white sheets covering them, keeping them warm. The two boys were fast asleep, the room silent except for the sounds of cars on the highway below.
Thomas shifted onto his back, one arm on his chest, the other hanging off the bed. The sheets were around his waist, tugged up a little on his right side because beside him Dylan had them pulled over his shoulder.
When Thomas adjusted, Dylan did too, turning so he was on his stomach. He stretched his arm out and it fell across Thomas' chest, his head resting on the soft spot between his shoulder and his neck. Thomas moved his arm out from under Dylan only to wrap it around him, holding him closer.
When the sun shone through the curtains and the sounds coming from outside were considerably louder, Dylan woke up.
Finding himself in Thomas' grasp, he swallowed and closed his eyes again. What should he do? He didn't want to wake him, but at the same time, didn't want him to be weirded out by the fact that they'd ended up cuddling. He lifted his head and glanced at the clock. 10:17 am. He looked over at Thomas only to find dark, tired eyes blinking up at him.
"Good morning," Thomas' arm fell away and Dylan got up and out of the bed. "They have breakfast here, wanna eat and then hit the road?"
Thomas nodded and got up as well. Both of them didn't say anything about the sleeping arrangement as they got ready for the day, which left them with feelings of rejection and confusion.
~ ~ ~ ~
"Dyl?"
Dylan hummed in response and turned down the radio from his spot in the passenger seat. A map was spread across his lap, and his phone was in his hand. A quick google search revealed the closest McDonald's, and the map was going to tell them how to get there.
"Uhm, about yesterday. Last night, I mean."
"What about it? Oh, turn onto the next right." Dylan seemed too relaxed for this conversation, and it felt like something had just taken a bite out of Thomas. Nevertheless, he asked his question.
"Did it... uh... do I mean anything to you?"
Dylan swallowed and turned off his phone, staring out at the road ahead of them. "Thomas, you mean everything to me, you're my best friend."
In all honesty, he should've seen that coming. He sighed, not sure how to pose his next question, but Dylan spoke before he could.
"That isn't what you meant, I know. My answer is still the same. You are everything to me."
With these words, Thomas gripped the wheel harder. He couldn't say anything but let out a small "oh", and Dylan chuckled. He pried his right hand off the wheel and held it in his own, rubbing circles on his palm. Neither of them pointed out how strangely good it felt.
"There was supposed to be a left here, angel. I don't think we went the right way."
"Ugh, I must've missed a turn." Thomas slowed the car down, pulling over, and leaned into Dylan to look at the map.
"See, we went here, then down this way..." Dylan traced the streets with a finger, and Thomas looked up to see road signs.
"We are currently on Cardinal Drive."
"Oh, that's.." Dylan poked at another spot, "that's right here." It was far from where they had to be, and Thomas sighed.
"Let's just keep going and see what we find?"
"Whatever you want, angel." Dylan couldn't resist, and time seemed to stop. He pressed his lips against Thomas' cheek, and the older boy froze. He wasn't quite sure what to do, even though he knew what he would like to do. Dylan's kiss was soft, and he wanted it.
Dylan pulled back and their eyes met. Both were wide and uncertain, and a bit curious, and Dylan caught Thomas' gaze flick to his lips and back again.
"Uhm..." Thomas flushed redder than he already was, a shade that actually suited him beautifully. "Can you... can we-"
"Yes." Both boys were slightly breathless as Thomas leaned forward. Their lips met, and it was soft and curious and pure.
Dylan's hand went to his jaw, his other on the center console for balance. A hand tangled in his hair and one on his shoulder. It deepened, and god, he tasted so good.
Dylan pulled away, shaking his head a little. Thomas frowned as he undid his seatbelt and got out of the car, but he walked around the front and opened the driver's side. He got in, swinging a leg over Thomas so he was straddling him, and pulled the door closed.
Their foreheads rested together and their noses brushed, but Dylan spoke instead of kissing him. "Thomas, angel, would you do me the honor of being my boyfriend?"
Thomas didn't say anything, just ran his hands up Dylan's thighs and set them on his hips.
"Dylan, you're so beautiful," he cupped Dylan's cheek and he nuzzled into his palm. "I knew I wanted this since we pretended in front of that old man."
Dylan tipped forward and their lips crashed together again, somehow better this time.
~ ~ ~ ~
"Baby, I need another quarter."
Dylan nodded and grabbed one off the counter, tossing it to Thomas. They were at a laundromat, cleaning the clothes they brought as the ones they were wearing were the last good ones. Dylan was folding some of the colors that had just come out of the dryer, Thomas was putting darks into it.
Dylan hummed as he folded, enjoying the peace. There was only an old couple sitting opposite them, the place was otherwise empty. Thomas started the machine and the room was filled with a soft rumbling noise.
His boy hopped up on the counter, careful not to sit on any of the clothes. He grabbed a shirt, laying it across his lap and tucking the sleeves into the center before folding it in half, setting it into the bin ever so gently. They worked in a comfortable silence, sharing happy, love-filled looks.
"I've been thinking."
"Yeah?" Dylan looked up from his folding to see a very troubled looking Thomas.
"Yeah. About home. If we turn around now, we'll have been gone a week by the time we get back." Thomas set a pair of pants aside and played with his hands in his lap.
"Do you wanna go back?" Dylan walked over to Thomas and stood between his legs, a hoodie in his hands. It was warm from the dryer, and he lifted it over Thomas' head, helping him put it on. "I know this isn't the right thing to say currently but damn, you look cute in my clothes."
It was true though. Thomas' blond hair was sticking up all over the place, courtesy of the sweater being pulled over his head. Dylan's Mets hoodie was a bit big on his lithe frame, the blue standing out from his pale features.
He flushed pink, "Thanks, baby. I'll remember that."
Dylan winked, but then turned serious again. "So, why are you thinking about home?"
"We have school, and all our friends might wonder if we go longer than a week even though we told them, and I-" his voice lowered considerably, "I have to try to make amends with my family."
"Of course, angel. And I will be with you every step of the way."
"You don't have to deal with me, you know."
"Thomas, please don't say that. I am not letting you do this alone," he set his hands on his thighs, a look in his eyes that told Thomas he was telling the complete truth. Thomas just nodded and leaned in for a kiss, his arms around Dylan's neck.
"Ah, Gerald. The joys of young love are so beautiful." They heard a woman speak and turned the see the old lady talking to her husband. "Do you remember when we were like that?"
Thomas looked back to Dylan, who had flushed pink. They just received an indirect complement about the beauty of their relationship, and Thomas couldn't be any happier. Even if his parents were homophobic, some of the world was on their side.
~ ~ ~ ~
They pulled back into their town, a heavy weight on both of their chests. Neither of them wanted to be back here, but they had shit to deal with.
Dylan was driving, and clutching Thomas' hand tightly, rubbing circles on the back of it. He had a habit of doing that absentmindedly, but it always comforted Thomas. The blond boy was chewing his lip (which made Dylan want to kiss him) and was quite obviously a nervous wreck.
As they drove closer and closer to Thomas' house, Dylan sighed. "You don't need to do this, you know. You can come stay with my family for a few days."
"Baby, I appreciate the offer, I really do. But I have to do this, and you've already done so much for me." Thomas pulled his hand up and pressed a gentle kiss on it.
"Well, do you want me to come in with you then?"
"No, I-"
"Angel." Dylan raised an eyebrow. He could see right through Thomas. The older sighed but nodded, staring out the window as they turned onto his street.
"You can do this, alright? You helped me stand up to the man at the hotel. This is the same thing, okay?"
Thomas nodded, and they shared a brief kiss before walking up the driveway.
~ ~ ~ ~
AN: Hey lovelies!
I kind of hate this because it's so long and not the best and I don't know whether to laugh or cry at it, 3385 words. Ah, shuck.