Fool's Gold

by Lothlorienne

Summary:

This story is made as my partaking in the year of the otp event. Please enjoy these monthly snippets of one scattered storyline exploring and expanding on the dynamic existing between Gary and Andy in past, present and future - all set to merge into a single narrative by the end of the year.

Notes:

Anyway happy YOTP event! Time to switch from the regular comfort ships I’ve been into for years to a pairing I’ve never written a single word for even if this movie has been on the brain for like a full decade. Err. Bon appetit.
Tags might change as work updates.

January - first kiss (or first in a long time... I can do what I want)

Chapter 1: The Two-Headed Dog

It was a mad dash across the street, through the front doors and into the dark quiet to be found inside the King’s Head. The difference with the absolute insanity unraveling just outside was a stark relief.

Andy hurried after Steven swift as he could manage. He quickly dropped his ballast at the counter, map and all. He told himself they’d recollect his sorry ass later. At some point. To be sure.

Meanwhile Andy’s feet were already leading him on to the half-remembered back door they’d used in some different lifetime. The Beast should be waiting just outside.

They had made it. They were going to make it.

No, his mind corrected itself the second he even dared think it, somewhere midway through the hurried escape towards the back of the pub, Steven stealthily in tow.

Not all of them. The image of Peter being swarmed by robots was still freshly burned into his retinas, and then that sick feeling of bashing Oliver, or rather that thing which so clearly had not been Oliver, its waxy shell of a skull caving with the power of his blow, viscous blood wildly splattering and oozing from the cracks as it kept on speaking, entirely unbothered by the sheer violence of the act-

He had to stop that thought in order to keep his chips as well as the copious amounts of beer safely down. They had come so close to making it out of here in one piece, he could not afford to lose composure now. They needed to get the fuck out of here. Thank god they didn’t have the time to stop and think. He wasn’t sure he’d still have the strength to keep going. Only the clear urgency of their escape kept his legs in motion. 

Having reached the other side of the room, he threw himself against the back door to be greeted with an instant view of the Beast, parked exactly where they had left it. Another level of relief seemed to flood his entire body. Yes. Another step closer back to his normal life, the way it was before and should have always remained.

“Okay, there it is.”

Before anything more could be said either by him or Steven, another swarm of blanks roved past, and they both ducked back into the safe cover of the pub. However safe that particular abode would prove to be, anyway - Andy figured surely, with Gary’s lively and repeated proclaiming of their intent for the night, it would only be a matter of time before that larger collective would come looking for them at the logical next stop on the intended Mile.

Once they could conceive of the sheer sense of stupidity required to proceed with such a plan, anyway. With the way things had been going, the men would be better off not testing their luck.

“We wait for an opening,” Andy reasoned, “and then we leg it to the Beast.”

Steven immediately brought up the fact they’d need the keys. Right, how could they almost forget-

Both turned back to face the front of the bar, only to bear witness to what could only be considered a miraculous recovery.

Gary King, who up until a minute ago mind you had still been knocked out cold (a feat and a blessing Andy still prided himself on, actually), was once again up and steadily tapping himself a pint with a supernaturally focused determination. Somehow looking perfectly natural in doing so.

As though nothing had happened. As though the world as they knew it wasn’t busy crumbling just outside those doors and had been during these past few hours. Or maybe as though that didn’t matter to him, as it was only some vague, insignificant detail beyond the smaller world which existed between Gary and his next pint.

Some distanced, hazy part of Andy felt a weird and unspoken sense of understanding at the display. To him as well, it was strangely comforting to think some things could never be subject to change. To witness first hand that some weeds would just refuse to perish and die, even while facing these unforeseen, entirely unhinged circumstances they had found themselves caught up in. No matter how fucking crazy things had gotten out there, in here, right in front of him, existed at least in some part that same old Gary. A little older, a little more worn down than Andy remembered. But the not entirely unwelcome sight gave him pause, to be sure.

They really did have to keep it moving, though. It would only be a matter of time before reality would catch up with them again, and it was precious time they were very quickly running out of. There were only so many places for them to hide as the horde of alien robots kept combing through every inch of Newton Haven. Andy would not pretend to think it was a place he was still sufficiently familiar with to keep outrunning them forever.

It was a reality even that dickhead behind the bar would have to face, sooner rather than later. So it seemed better to draw him back into the present, however unpleasant the experience may be.

Before Andy realised it - before he could even begin to stop himself, reason, plan a more logical progression from here - he was already walking towards that person he’d once considered a friend, calling out to him. And instantly receiving his attention as he did so.

“Gary? What are you doing.”

“Just a little toast,” was the immediate and nonplussed answer. He could have expected nothing less than complete natural ease. Even if there was the slightest edge of despondence mixed in with the bravado of those words.

Still mainly focused on getting them out of here asap, Andy made some plea for him to not do it, even if he knew full well this man would not be swayed. His pint was tapped. His hand raised. It was only natural what would follow next. Especially since they had gotten this far into the night.

His own intoxication meant Andy couldn’t quite categorise the emotions he felt in response to that knowledge. Though there probably should’ve been nothing but unprecedented levels of stress and mortal fear due to their increasing risk of demise, there had to be some (un)surprising amount of pure, good old rage facing Gary’s unrelenting bullshit yet again.

The fighting, running, and seeing an innocent man die had drained most of his ire, though. Leaving Andy mostly tired, and wanting to go home.

And pure anger or annoyance alone wouldn’t explain why he was still advancing closer to the bar instead of throwing something or, better yet, choosing to walk away from all of this.

“To Oliver. Pete. And to us. Y’know, ‘cause ten pubs isn’t bad.”

And Andy could then more readily detect the genuine grief in that statement, read it from his former mate clear as day. Understand and interpret him, as though not a day had passed since their shared youth. His feet still brought him closer to the bar, whether he consciously wanted them to or not.

He recognised it to be more than a toast. More than an acknowledgement of their old friends who had died here today. Gary didn’t mean to toast them from some sense of obligated pity. There was a deeper note of acceptance in the fact of how they had come to pass.

Andy coldly realised it then. They really could just leave him.

Because some innate part of Gary wanted to stay. Inside this pub, inside this town, in whatever ideal image of this night he had conjured up within his own head. He probably had decided that a long time ago. No interference would be able to change those plans.

Meanwhile Steven was waiting tensely, no more than a couple paces removed from their way out the back.

And Andy did feel the pull towards that option. Very much so. With the promise of being able to go back home - the actual home he had built and tried his best to maintain over the years, not this once familiar town where he had been a kid with these people a long, long time ago.

But it felt surprisingly natural to step closer to Gary and address him in a voice so much softer than that fucker had ever deserved.

“It's not,” Andy knew he needed to emphasise. “But we’re calling time.”

And in some sick sense, it really was a feat. To make it this far on the crawl. Make it this far in life. Their two childhood friends hadn’t been that fortunate. But with the way things had spiralled, this night had become a sure path to complete self destruction. And he felt genuinely sorry for Gary, who had seemed so into the idea of the crawl - a little too much, maybe. Even without the batshit intervention, Andy knew none of their group would’ve actually wanted to tag along for the entire ride, regardless of whatever the fuck Gary’s intentions had been. Who knows if they would’ve actually made it to the end. Had anyone ever managed in this town? Andy had never bothered to look into it. But now he vaguely wondered if Gary had, and what sort of impact that knowledge’d had on him.

Still, he could give it all up and come with them. If he could walk himself to the car and get in, he could still come with them. Even despite everything that had happened.

Andy only hoped he didn’t need to actually say the words. That the meaning was conveyed well enough like this. Because fuck it if he was gonna say this shit out loud, even if the drink had loosened him up after years of not allowing for that to ever happen again.

The slightest pause. Probably not enough for his meaning to really sink in. But then, to his surprise, Gary agreed.

Though of course he insisted on downing his drink first in one smooth, well practised go.

Eyes still fixed on him (as though worried he might disappear if left unattended for even a second), Andy wondered why he hadn’t noticed that sooner over the course of the night. How quickly he had been emptying those drinks throughout the evening. In such a solemn, no nonsense type of way. Maybe it had been his own preference not to see it.

Though this final drink did seem different. That one simple pint counted in a way the others hadn’t. Gary’s shaky exhale as he treasured that final mouthful being swallowed down said it all.

Though Andy’s brain, still half slowed by the copious drinking, even despite the spectacular way things had just turned to shit and made them a target for the whole town, needed a moment or two to catch on as to why this one would be different from the drinks which had come before.

“So close. Number ten.”

It was only when the other man retrieved the map that one painful, stabbing reminder made itself known to him again. Right. The Mile. The long, meaningless quest which had gathered them back to this godforsaken place.

“... So close.”

“Ok.”

More than that could not be said. Should not be said on the matter. They should just go. It would be dangerous to linger any more. They should move on, make a clean break for it and get as much distance from tonight’s horrible events as humanly possible. Andy was looking forward to it.

But Gary could only keep reiterating his point. Seemed transfixed on the idea. Still caught up on the fact they had finally gotten one step closer to completing this thing. To having done something. To have made one clear and apparent change to the map he’d been carrying with him even after all these years.

Something about the way he retrieved his keys made it instantly clear to Andy, still tuned into this unspoken understanding they’d once shared in the long faded glory of their teenage years. And standing there he suddenly, deeply hated that connection. Hated knowing that his dumb drink-addled brain could comprehend in a split second what was about to happen, and that he was wholly powerless to do anything about it.

How could he still persuade that old familiar figure across the bar. What was something that had always worked - had to work right now, so they might all make it out alive?

He grabbed that raised hand, forced the fingers shut with his own because no, fuck this. They would all drive out of here together. Whatever the fuck type of world would still be left outside of this town - because shit, how far would this invasion actually have spread, Andy wondered - they could not just let this shithead stay here to die alone, even if any sympathy Andy could currently be feeling was only a remnant of a friendship that was dead and buried. Still. For old times’ sake.

He forced his voice to come out commanding. But he couldn’t think of anything to say other than Gary’s name.

Obviously, that fucker wouldn’t listen. Wouldn’t even give him the chance to say anything else.

Clearly more used to the drink and thus with a mind working still slightly quicker than his friend’s, Gary only leaned closer into the physical contact, snaked his free hand to the back of Andy’s head, and pulled him in for a bruisingly sudden and sloppy kiss.

Maybe he too was quickly recollecting methods which had proven to work every time.

Another lightning onslaught of conflicting emotions flooded Andy’s senses. Revulsion, disgust, both due to the sudden invasion of his personal space and the strong taste of beer still on Gary’s tongue. Some strangely intense type of relief as memories of those old times resurfaced, as a soothing calm. Comfort. Safety. Home. And somewhere in the back of his mind, the boiling hot anger knowing this was only a ploy to get him dazed and distracted, and that it was fucking working like a charm.

Gary detached himself from the contact, and the next second he had gone straight over the bar and was booking it right back towards those front doors and the chaos which waited outside.

The other man gathered his thoughts enough to at least call out after him, but it was no use. Gary had made up his mind. There would be no changing that.

Steven, in his best approximation of Andy’s own rational thought, voiced the very real point that they had more than enough grounds for leaving. Gary’d had his chance. He wanted to go. Who were they to stop him if he made the choice to dive headfirst into his own personal annihilation.

Especially when they knew he wouldn’t think to go into the fray for them. Had left Andy for dead in the past, without ever looking back.

“Let him go. He left you, man.”

Andy felt torn. It was true. The words hurt. The memory hurt. The fact hurt, even if the wounds had long healed and even the 600 quid had finally been repaid. He would have to be a complete fucking dunce to pay Gary any mind at this point. Especially as he’d been given his permission to take this clear way out. One last kiss goodbye as a bittersweet parting gift. A sudden assault of frenzied warmth, then to be left with only the sharp cut of keys still pressed into his hand.

Andy could discern the two paths diverging before him. Flowing easily from one shared past into twin futures, the start of which pointing into keenly opposite directions. He knew the road he had been set to take. The course which every rational part in this equation was screaming for him to throw himself down without further delay. Finally, the last leg of this miserable fucking ordeal - a clear way out of this long forgotten childhood town they never should’ve returned to in the first place. An exit plan with minimal risk of further damage for both him and Steven, who both wanted to live.

But it was inevitable. He cared. Of course he fucking cared. And of course he would keep trying to drag him back, whether Gary deserved, or thought he deserved it or not. Would this ever have gone any other way for them?

So “I can’t,” was Andy forced to admit, as he tossed the keys on to the next person and started to chase after Gary before he could make it too far. He only hoped Steven would forgive him. That he would understand, and be smart enough to make a break for it by himself.

But live or die - there was no way Andy was going to let that fucker leave him like that. Not after all they had been through.

Chapter 2: The Beehive

Notes:

February - bed sharing

Restless. Fucking restless. Why the fuck had he decided to come back to this place? It had been a dumb idea. Stupid, sentimental. Gary felt ashamed of himself, even if there was no one around to bear witness. But even despite those feelings, after having come all this way, it now felt immensely harder to turn around and leave.

Pacing, he strode past the surprisingly well kept remains of the house for what seemed like the millionth time. He still wasn't ready to approach.

Rationally, he knew, he could in fact just leave. It’s not like anyone cared whether or not he stayed. He was on his own once again - after all that shit, after failing the Mile (for a second time mind you), being grossly vulnerable in front of his friends and oh yeah, of course, blowing up the whole world or something, the details of which were still a bit hazy and in fact might never be recovered what with him having drunk at the time - he still wasn’t quite sure how many shots and half-pints on top of his official eleven and a sip on that path to glory-

But long story short, yes. He had gone through that entire mess only to end up alone, again.

And right now, mere days after the fact, he found himself right back at this place of personal and global ruin, again .

He scratched his slightly scruffy feeling face, kept on walking back and forth without daring to even look at that front door.

Was it really any surprise, though?

Even with Newton Haven so thoroughly demolished (by yours truly), its remaining landmarks and general layout of debris had still made it so Gary could find his way around with ease. Some internal type of map which had been engraved in there since childhood made it feel like even now these streets were still his, and he might still navigate them blindly.

Though with night beginning to fall and everything having reverted to some type of dark age, he wasn’t keen on testing that particular theory.

He was just tired. And wanted to go home.

Wherever he might find that place. Not at his old address to be sure - a location he had quickly paid a stop to, despite. But a return to his own former haunt hadn’t held much appeal to Gary.

Partly because that house had long stopped feeling like a home - hell, he’d moved out as soon as he was able to, and by his mid twenties it turned out his mum and stepdad had swapped out most of the furniture for a perfectly inoffensive and bland shade of beige, a fate which the “guest bedroom” had not managed to escape.

And to then make things worse: the intergalactic blast and resulting fires had massively impacted the old house. Turns out the blaze had destroyed all evidence of there ever having been a level above ground, including what had once been Gary's childhood bedroom.

The notion was strangely soothing, actually. Something about that outcome felt right. At least he wouldn’t have to face the pitiful remains of that place ever again.

But now this house, though, seemed to have lived through the worst of the cataclysm. Which felt like a different type of relief. Thank fuck this backup hideaway had not been touched by his mistake.

Andy’s parents had always been nice to him. Even at times when he hadn't deserved their patience, which had been often. More and more so over time. Until the interims between him coming over to crash for the night had grown to drag out increasingly longer to the point of years, over a full decade, and the contact had petered out in full.

He wasn’t even sure they’d still lived there anymore. Currently - as he dared to look at the old facade, darkened windows - the place seemed empty. Maybe they had left to retire by the sea, even long before the recent reunion of the musketeers.

Gary couldn’t help but wince. There was a chance, maybe the old Knightleys had sold the place to some sickeningly bleh young couple who had renovated the shit out of it, making the place unrecognisable even to him.

Or maybe they’d died. Maybe some blank version of them would still be lurking inside, waiting for him, hand in hand on the sofa and prepped to offer him either a fizzy drink or instant blow to the head.

But even the poor comfort of at least having something familiar again made his tired self ache to go inside. It was the final push to help Gary finally give in to the bone deep desire to do so.

Because fuck it, their house had always felt like a second home and safe haven to come home to and rest. Even with blanks, or blank walls, hell, he’d take it. He would want it more than anything no matter what.

His fingers searched for the out of sight little corner of the left hand window sill. If his memory served him right, or more accurately, not the concrete remembering itself but the natural step by step guide of movement his body still knew to be linked to this front porch - aha. Humans still present or not, the spare key was still tucked away safe in its usual spot.

Gary briefly wondered who had left it there last - the actual Knightleys, aforementioned blank derivatives who may have taken over, and in which circumstances either of those options may or may not know about the other’s existence - but as he turned the key in the lock and got his first glimpse inside he realised the answer didn’t matter.

That either way both key, house, and Gary himself had been abandoned by the one person he’d hoped he might stumble upon in here.

It had been a dumb thing to hope for, of course. Andy had a home. A new one, one Gary had never been invited to. It had a wife and kids in it. Unless she had opted to stay at her mum’s house. Fuck, how should he know. The details of that entire development had been something he had been completely shut out of, with good reason.

But either way, Andy would be making his way back to them now. Obviously they’d be his main priority, checking sure that they were alright. He’d have better things to do than hang around here with the one guy who had fucked it all up on a global scale.

Gary tried to ignore the unbidden surge of disappointment. He should’ve kept his expectations low.

He would need to be satisfied with the welcome view of the still vaguely familiar front room as a sign they hadn’t sold. Maybe made some minor changes to the interior design, but nothing too jarring to show how much times had changed.

Gary closed and locked the door behind him. With the clear visual proof of destruction shut out like this, it almost felt as though nothing had changed at all. Apart from how depressing it all felt all of a sudden.

He wasn’t gonna fucking cry.

Even if no one would’ve seen or cared if he did. Fuck. Stupid. No, right now nothing seemed worse than to be stuck in here with nothing but his own pathetic sniffling and whimpering for company. Fuck that.

He went straight into the kitchen (same knick-knacks on the walls, pattern on the table cloth) and found the cupboard he’d had in mind only on his second try. Canned goods. Well stocked. Again, this gave him some muted spark of hope that the Knightleys had survived. That things hadn’t changed all that much, really, since the previous time he had stumbled in here, hungover and in search of anything passably edible. That they might still come back and invite him to stay.

Then again, if they’d been replaced by blanks, who could’ve told the difference. Not him. The perfectly stocked pantry could’ve all been a part of that act. Or even a last remnant from before the time said blanks had taken over, not bothering to touch the house and preserving these human details as perfectly placed set pieces for the integration charade.

Which also happened to be a good name for a band. If bands still existed now.

Again, the just vaguely dusty, otherwise undisturbed impression of the entire living quarters confirmed to Gary it didn’t much matter what version of that couple had lived here before that one fateful friday. The former occupants had long gone. It was clear no one had been in here for a while now.

He would not be disturbed.

He would not be noticed. He wouldn’t be taken any notice of.

He swiped a couple of cans - peach slices, beef ravioli, some type of vegetable mix. Cutlery as needed. Gary only entertained the naturally occurring thought for the briefest of moments before he picked one of the duller knives at his disposal.

Whatever. Fading into obscurity was what he deserved. That had been the case even before he’d ruined it for all of humankind. How could he have been so fucking stupid.

And he couldn't even recall everything as it had occurred. It had all seemed so fucked up and weird. Alien robots? Popping their arms back on, faces half missing, but still coming down on them like an unrelenting horde - those young fucks just as much as the old, the marmalade sandwich, Shane from school and mr. Shepherd, Dave, Raymondo, that one lady with - would she have had a blank baby in that fucking stroller of hers? Just a perfectly engineered robot baby, or more like, a baby shaped robot?

A new wave of fatigue rolled over him. Christ, what did it matter at this point. Here, at the end of the world. The blast seemed to have taken all the blanks out, all the same. No more technology. No more nothing. Just silence. Just living with what he had done.

It only made the buzzing and unrest in his head grow unbearably louder. He wanted it to stop. Being all alone with just himself and his own guilty conscience was like being trapped in a specifically engineered, personal kind of hell.

But he wasn’t exactly keen on dying just out there either, in some random wood or field.

A slow and comfortable passing someplace warm and sheltered, now that would be the better option by far. If he got so lucky, he’d never even be found.

He only hoped Andy would understand and forgive his looking for comfort here.

 

Whether he’d ever consider returning to his former home or not. Again, probably not. Surely and especially now, there would be zero reason for him to do so. But still. Gary hoped they might end things on a good note, in the end. That whether Andy would know about this or not, at least in his thoughts the two of them would be at peace with one another and Andy would feel able to move on from these past mistakes. Not that there’d be any way to find out for sure.

Gary dragged himself up the stairs - the old patterned runner, and the same symphony of creaks again had him holding back tears all of a sudden - and to the bedroom where he’d spent fuck knows how many hours, either in group or just between the two of them.

Hanging out after school before he’d have to go home for dinner, or staying for a meal, at least twice a month. Dropping shit off, keeping spare notebooks and pens and a change of clothes. Prepping to hit up a concert or event out of town. Sleeping over once they'd made it safely back.

It wouldn’t do to dwell on those times, especially the sleepovers. No use pining after what he’d once had, and how he had fucked that all up.

It would be better to focus on the here and now, rather than conjure up any related images of a past long gone.

But anyway. The room looked much the same.

Gary was only vaguely aware of his shutting the door behind, wood sliding into place with a solid and secure click.

Thank fuck. Nothing much had changed at all.

He could finally breathe easier now.

Though he couldn’t allow himself to focus on the details too much - left almost exactly as he remembered last seeing them - the rugby posters on the wall, shitty little desk crammed into the corner, boxes with old books and papers for school shoved underneath the bed. 

Gary would bet their old porn mags were still hidden under there, as well.

He didn’t feel the particular need to look into that though, for the moment. Only one place was calling to him.

Not the clearing between mattress and closet where they’d most often stuffed the shitty little blow up mattress. Not the actual closet Ollie had locked him in one time, where he’d spent a surprisingly solid night’s sleep even if he had been folded in there like a damn pretzel (in hindsight it had probably been the copious amounts of alcohol in his system, both the reason why he had been confined to his cramped accommodations and his surprisingly adequate sleep nonetheless).

All those options and memories aside, right now only one place of sleep was calling to him. And why shouldn't it? The bed was the logical place to go.

No one was present to object.

Years, ages ago, someone had been present offering the exact opposite. Yes, that had happened on occasion.

His invitation into Andy’s bed had been rare, but solid all the same. Not always for the funnest of reasons.

There was the time they got scared watching that one ghost movie. When Steven’d handcuffed both their hands together and then somehow lost the key. When Gary had fucked up his elbow and refused to sleep on the floor, but Andy had refused to give up the comforts of his own bed just because of the fact.

That time Gary took some bad shrooms, felt like his body was dissolving on the spot and could only drift to sleep when being held together by someone.

Or the weekend Andy’s granddad had died.

That one time, when they’d been talking about the girls they’d liked, what they’d want to do with them, the big talk of this and that fading into a silence. A stupid, unplanned half-confession of something Gary had swallowed back down before it had managed to escape him in full. Andy’s moment of processing before he had shifted closer to the edge of the mattress so he could have a better look at his friend. Eyes glittering in the half dark. The sudden rush of being understood, and the option being entertained instead of denied outright.

Those were the good old days. If only.

He shed some outer layers still sullied with proof of the past few days’ events - the beer and ink and sweat and grime, dirt, soot, which was threatening to seep into his pores and stay there for good. The thought was unbearable. If only it could all be undone. If only he could go back to a better version of himself and give it another try. Though deep down, he knew the wish to be useless. He'd just fuck it up again. To err is human. There would never be any escaping himself, really.

Shoes off, coat off, button down, socks, Gary kept going till he felt the adequate balance between not muddying the bed and not having to see too much of his own bare skin.

Welcome or not, permitted or not, he climbed in between the blankets and tricked himself into believing some particles of Andy (or better yet, of Andy-and-him, a long time ago, before life changed them into people he didn't recognise anymore) were still safely preserved somewhere deep within the very makeup of the fabric. That he might still tap into the comfort stored there.

Slowly but surely, the buzzing in his head slowed and faded into a peaceful nothing. All became quiet and dull.

Gary closed his eyes to the outside world, the mess of it all. In here, time could stand still. No matter what, in here he could be safe. No one to tell him otherwise. No one to persuade him to go, ever again.

It was a pretty good place to stay.

Chapter 3: The Mermaid

Notes:

March - “What are you doing with that?” (+ fresh starts and major character death. Oliver and Peter are major characters to ME... plus y'know, in a symbolic and thematic sense, having to say goodbye to your old self for good IS a type of death while also a fresh start after ruining a chance at intergalactic communal betterment so-)

Andy was still reeling. The entire evening had been crazy, but with everything that had happened in the last half hour or so he was struggling to even stay upright. So he didn’t bother. He let his tired legs give out and felt himself sink down on the grass next to Gary. Snippets of the night kept cropping up in his mind unrelenting.

The confrontation at the Beehive. The eerie and dispassionate air of a wholly unchanged mr. Shepherd, that instinctual primal sense as though something was very off about him, and the cold realisation he had been getting that same impression from Oliver. The discovery they’d actually lost Oliver some time ago. That entire situation escalating into yet another fight for their lives, one they barely managed to escape intact.

Only to then lose Peter anyway. Quick and unforgiving, feeling powerless to do anything about it. They’d just stood there and watched it happen.

Almost safely making his way out before changing his mind, choosing to run after Gary even if that dickhead didn’t want to or frankly, deserved to be saved. The entire town on their heels.

That unveiling of the truth at the World’s End.

And not even being fully able to process all which had been said between them before they’d descended down into the belly of the beast, rejoined by Steven, and then everything had happened so fast.

And now finally, they had caused this.

It was a lot to process.

They could only sit and stare at what they had done. Newton Haven up in flames, the fire still raging and billowing its dark smoke into the air above. Andy wondered how far these consequences would carry. By morning, their entire childhood town would be wiped off the map. And this had been only one of many - many penetration points the Network had claimed to occupy. What would happen to those places? Those people? Had those towns similarly just blown up following the Network’s departure? Had those locations been more, or less densely populated? How many of the occupants had still been human, and how much of a warning had they been given beforehand to at least have some chance to make it out alive?

And had the Network really left Earth for good, or would there be another shoe left to drop.

At present, they could only guess.

“I’m sorry.”

Well, that came as a total surprise. Andy needed a second to parse the words because for a moment he thought he couldn't have heard him right. But looking aside, seeing Gary’s completely dejected appearance, he knew the admission to be genuine. Christ. Where should they even begin with that entire mess.

“I know,” he could only offer, drawing Gary in with an arm around his shoulder. The other leaned into him readily, sank into the comfort with a bone deep sigh.

The four of them then silently watched the blaze for some time. What else were they supposed to do? Where else could they go?

What else of the world would still be left waiting for them?

What semblance of life before could still be reprised now, if any?

What else would still be left, besides the four of them here, stoically taking in the final and complete destruction of their shared past. It was overwhelming to think of anything outside of the here and now.

After some amount of time, Steven was the first to again speak up.

“So, lads. There should be a campsite around here somewhere.”

Andy needed a second to catch up, but then he craned his head to look back. Much like he had done with Gary, Steven had put an arm around Sam, holding her close in a gesture of comfort. The distant flames cast them both in a warm, safe glow.

The thought of leaving that nostalgic orange light caused some stab of fear. It would mean a definite break from the night and all that had happened. Even if it had ended so horribly. These had been their last few hours of normal life before the cataclysmic event. The moment they stepped away would signify their first few steps into the remains of a life after.

“Maybe we’ll stay a bit longer,” Andy reasoned, pulling Gary closer to him still. “Keep watch. In case the fire spreads and takes us all out.”

Steven pushed back his sleeve to check his watch. He slightly jostled Sam in doing so, yet she seemed too fixated on the view in front of them to really mind.

“It’s been close to two hours since we made it out. And it doesn’t look like anything has spread past the border - past the exact borders of the town in that time. I think we should be safe.”

“And if not…” Gary mumbled, still hidden, tucked against Andy’s side. He wasn’t sure if the other two had heard, but either way no counter was offered in response.

Andy did see the reason in that plan. They couldn’t stay here forever. What would be the point? Newton Haven had been destroyed, and there was nothing they could do about it.

He knew they should find shelter and get some sleep. The next day would come soon enough, whether they’d be rested and ready for it or not.

So he checked with Steven again. “You know a place?”

The other nodded. “Da used to take me sometimes. It’s a little basic, but it had a communal main house with a kitchen, dining hall, toilets. I think they ran a day camp in the summer at some point.”

Sam righted herself at the mention of that. She briefly looked as though she wanted to say something, but then refrained. Her dark eyes only looked back at the town, and everything burning within it.

“Okay,” Andy had to admit. “That sounds good enough for me. Let’s go.”

He untangled himself from Gary and stood - still feeling a bit wobbly, but less so than before. Only now that the idea of a resting spot had come to mind did he realise how massively tired he felt. Multiple hours of running, fighting, and thinking you might die could have that effect on a person. A measure of rest and shelter might serve them all some good.

Steven checked in with Sam for a moment. He asked something too softly for Andy to hear, but whatever he said helped draw her attention away from the complete destruction below. They turned and started walking.

Andy followed a few steps before he realised Gary wasn’t coming.

He was still where he had been seated. Alone on the grass slope. Fixated on all the damage he had caused.

Andy was feeling more than fed up with this. It would do them no good to dwell on the choices made, now.

“Come on,” he urged the other. “Let’s go. Let’s boo boo.”

No response. Just silence. Just a man who had once been his friend, had once exuded such charisma and vibrance, now looking impossibly small, folded in on himself and lost.

Andy sighed. Fine. For old times' sake.

He bent forward, grabbed Gary under the armpits and hauled him up without having to put in too much effort. The other didn’t put up a struggle. Maybe he didn’t so much want to stay here per se, he just needed that first push to come from someone else as he didn’t have the strength to pick himself up and get moving.

Even the moving might not be an option just yet, no matter how much he wanted to find comfort some place.

And it was surprisingly natural for Andy to fall back into that role. Without a word he turned around and braced himself, patting his sides before holding out his arms to support the weight. Gary seemed to recognise the intent and quietly, gratefully, accepted the piggy back ride for the rest of the way back to the others.

They rejoined as a group by the car, where on the other side of the fence, Sam was searching her various pockets as Steven stood by.

“Problems?” Andy asked, as he stepped closer. Though Steven did raise an eyebrow, no one mentioned him carrying Gary on his back.

“I can’t find my keys,” Sam replied, confused. “I could’ve sworn I left them in the ignition. Unless I didn’t?”

Steven laid a hand on her back. “It’s been a frantic kind of night.”

“But I’ve got water, and a blanket in the trunk.”

“Leave it,” Andy said, readjusting the ballast on his back which had started to slip on the way over. Gary made no attempt to help, only hanging over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. Andy wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out he was already asleep.

“We can return to it after some much needed rest. Where’d you say this campsite was?”

Steven half turned and pointed in the direction further away from where they’d come by car. “Just past the next hill. Maybe a five, six minute walk, if we can cut through the fields.”

Andy hated the idea of going through the fields. But the thought of having to find the proper road to the entrance and possibly walk for more than ten, fifteen minutes held exactly zero appeal to any of them.

So he let Steven lead the way.

Sam followed, sticking close to him. She patted down her pockets a few more times before giving up, seemingly resolved to continue searching and figuring out the rest of their plans in the morning.

Andy trailed a little behind. As long as needed to focus on walking, he couldn’t be too burdened by the weight he had chosen to carry, all the way to safety.

Sure, it had been a fully unhinged type of night. Both before and after that nosedive into disaster at the Cross Hands. Both his first initial agreeing to hanging out with people he had nothing in common with anymore, for old times’ sake, and Gary’s immature behaviour, and the way everything had been kind of the same but also completely different - both that and then suddenly the alien robots, every one of them drinking their pint in synch, the things Becky had whispered in his ear at the Mermaid, the complete destruction at the pub right after and then again, that quick unbidden descent into…

He kept on walking. Even as the distance between them and Newton Haven increased, the fires still cast long shadows ahead. What little was left of their group kept walking in the direction those shadows pointed them to. Away from the orange glow and gradually fading into the general dark.

Gary quiet, meek and motionless the entire way, just outside Andy's field of vision.

Their friendship was far from restored. Just because they'd spent one hell of an evening together... No, a lot of things were still unspoken, and still rightfully unforgiven, even if they mutually had opened up at least a little bit and allowed for a bit more mutual understanding of where they stood and how things had come this far. But that could be only the beginning. They’d still have a long way to go before things could be even remotely okay between them both.

But still.

Andy halted momentarily in his descent, as he felt one of Gary’s legs slipping. Readjusted his grip and hoisted him back into place before continuing the trek towards the construction which just, thank god, had come into view.

He had once cared about Gary. Cared a whole lot about some version of his friend he’d known a long time ago.

Some part of that person still remained. Both the good and bad elements of him. Shit, the way he’d stood up to that voice of authority in the end had been such a classic Gary thing, the memory made Andy almost swell with pride.

But a lot had happened since those days, for both of them. They might as well be different people entirely. That private conversation they’d had at number twelve, somewhere between him slamming Gary to the fucking carpet and the entire floor sinking down into the Network’s secret lair… yeah. In some sense that person before him had been unrecognisable.

But that was still someone he might care about. Someone his heart had ached for when he had heard the full story, had been allowed to see that vulnerability and honest truth, even if it hurt. Even if they had changed, grown up, grown apart, grown into different people entirely, it turned out Gary was still a person who meant a lot to him.

Whether he liked it or not. Whether either of them liked it or not.

So having come this far together, he would be committed to keeping this fucker safe for at least one more day. Maybe that was the best he could do for now. Not get too caught up in thinking long term just yet. Where to go, what to do. What would be left for any of them to do. All together or apart. Maybe they’d just have to take things as they’d come for now. Rebuild a comfortable life that way, or at least try to. There was no knowing what the future might bring. They'd just have to stick around to discover that.

They were lucky to find the structure as Steven remembered it, in some disrepair but still standing nonetheless. The front door wasn’t even locked. Open and trusting of strangers looking for a place to sleep. Perhaps a sign of one of the good things which had started spreading from the Network’s influence, even beyond their official borders of occupation. Or just a sign that the general area had been abandoned by regular folk, anyway.

Though they didn’t find any food, they were greeted with a large sleeping hall with about two dozen mattresses and plenty of blankets to choose from.

They quickly arranged for the four of them to sleep in a darkened corner by the door, after having blocked said door by shoving a large bunk bed in front of it. This setup still left the two large windows on another wall uncovered and able to be breached, but the action helped serve at least some peace of mind and hope they would live through until daybreak.

Sam made the effort to at least draw the curtains. None of them had the energy left to do anything more.

Especially Gary seemed thoroughly drained by the night’s events. Barely having stirred since Andy had gently let him down from his back, he was lying curled up on one of the mattresses still fully clothed and dead to the world.

Arms folded to his chest and again covered up to the knuckles.

Andy at least made the effort to put a blanket on him before they all turned in for the night. They would talk in the morning. They would figure things out from there. Day by day. One step at a time. One foot in front of the other and then find out where the hell they might end up after all of this.

Drained and exhausted, Andy let the fatigue take over and slept soundly for some time.

Though not quite until morning.

 

It was the sound of a metallic clattering which woke him up. The only reason Andy didn’t jolt upright to check for intruders straight away was the whispered “fucking shit ” which followed right after.

Still he was curious to see what was going on, even if there was no threat of imminent death at the moment.

Staying comfortable under the covers, he fumbled for his glasses (what was left of them, anyway) and looked towards the source of the disturbance.

The mattress next to his had been vacated. The blanket he had carefully draped over his friend had been tossed aside, and the friend (if he might be called that) had made his way over to the window and cracked it open, one leg already out the other side.

He could just see him grab the set of keys he had dropped onto the floorboards. Even from a distance and in the darkened space it didn’t register as the set Gary had owned - the one he had pressed into Andy’s hand with a kiss mere hours ago, only two keys attached to the ring. No, this had hit the floor with a thud betraying more weight than that, suggesting an entire collection of keys belonging to a house, parent’s house, mailbox, workplace. Some extra keychains, perhaps.

Andy righted himself somewhat, leaning on one elbow and squinting at Gary. He cleared his throat before speaking up, careful not to wake the others.

“What are you doing with that?”

A quick movement, and the mass of silvery jingling was gone.

“Doing with what? I'm just heading out for a smoke, mate.”

Andy groaned. Rubbed the sleep from his eyes. It was still way too early for this.

“Come back to bed, Gary.”

“Later.”

“Now.”

He couldn’t make out the other’s face in the dark, but his voice sounded different. Strained.

“Listen, I’ll be back in a sec, alright. Just go back to sleep.”

Andy hesitated at that, even if his brain was still struggling to catch up. Something felt off. And some still half-asleep part of him figured maybe he should trust that instinct, especially since it had served him so well in the twelve or so hours they’d just experienced.

“... Is everything ok?”

A brief pause. The figure by the window continued being impossible to read.

“Sure. Just gonna have a smoke. You know, with your mum? After I’m done with her?”

Andy rolled his eyes, even if he was relieved to find everything did seem normal after all. Same old shit. Same old childish fucking jokes. What else had he expected?

“Whatever. Can you at least close the window until you get back.”

“Was planning on it.”

Satisfied with that answer, he had already turned his back towards the window and tucked himself back under the covers, so Andy never even saw Gary leave. He only heard the rustling of his coat as he climbed over the ledge, followed by the soft slide of the window moving back into place. Then nothing but silence.

In under a minute he’d fallen back asleep, and wasn’t disturbed for the rest of the night.

Chapter 4: The Cross Hands

Notes:

April - running away together

He crept in without a sound. Advancing slowly, eyes trained on Andy’s broad, familiar back and pleased to see his friend did not pick up on his presence whatsoever, fully immersed in the papers spread out on the desk before him. Gary paused for a moment to appreciate the view. There was something heartwarming about the scene. A mug of tea on the windowsill. Snow falling outside. A small and garishly decorated Christmas tree propped up in the corner of the room.

Gary almost felt sorry for intruding. Though not enough to stop himself from taking his final position right behind Andy and leaning over his shoulder.

“Scroooooge…”

He had been expecting the deserved kind of startle reflex and dodged the hand without issue. Andy swung around in full to face his intruder.

Fuck, he couldn’t deny - it was good seeing his friend again, face to face.

“What the fuck, Gary.”

“Been a while!”

“It has. How did you get in here?”

Gary felt some genuine confusion this wasn’t evident. “Well, your mum let me in. Thought it’d be nice.”

Andy rolled his eyes and grumbled something too low to comprehend. He swiveled his chair back to face the multitude of papers scattered across his childhood desk. Gary briefly looked it over. He could discern that the desk still bore the same wear and tear from their bygone youth - sun faded football stickers, chipped paint, the scorch marks of his cigarettes - even if Andy himself had clearly outgrown the piece, thighs only just slotting in the space underneath.

Gary only needed a second or two to collect himself before taking the few steps needed, then took a comfortable seat atop the desk, just to the side. He looked down with what he considered to be a fairly convincing sense of intrigue.

Andy immediately started collecting the pages.

“What’s all this then?”

“Confidential.”

“Oooo,” Gary teased, wiggling his fingers. “Aren’t you all serious about your homework?”

Andy continued grabbing his stuff.

“Just regular work, actually. I got the degree ages ago.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He hadn’t known.

The other was still staunchly avoiding further eye contact as he gathered those papers containing some massive type of secret. Or whatever. Which was fine. They could talk about other stuff.

“Soooo. What else have you been up to.”

“Jesus Christ, Gary.”

Andy attempted to pull a sheet from underneath Gary’s ass, who was pretending to be light hearted and oblivious, not budging. After a few tugs with no result he gave up.

At least it made Andy finally look at him. Even if he appeared fed up as ever, surely that had to count for something.

He readjusted his glasses, seemed to take a deep and calming breath before stating his case.

“Look, I have zero need for this. I’m on a strict deadline, and could only be here for the weekend to visit my folks. Kindly fuck off.”

Gary kicked his legs.

“Aw come on man, that’s hardly in keeping with the holiday spirit. It is after all a time to be shared with your loved ones.”

“Or a charity case.”

He decided to ignore that.

“So here I am, meeting with my old friend, making up for the time we spent apart. Go on. Fill me in. What’d I miss.”

Andy only pinched the bridge of his nose as he took another steading breath. Gary looked on, trying to suppress his delight. This annoyance was familiar. The friend he’d once known would sigh exactly like that. It was at the very least a little bit fun knowing he could still manage to get under his skin. That they still knew each other intimately enough to know exactly which buttons to push.

“Has it occurred to you I might not want to fill you in, on anything.”

“No.”

A short, almost aggressive sigh. Gary waited for the other to continue, but Andy did not follow that up with anything else. Never able to handle silence for too long, Gary then decided to steer the conversation for a bit. Time to guide them back towards more genuinely friendly territory and reduce his chances of being kicked out.

“Fine, I’ll go first, then. I’m only here temporarily, as well. I don’t know if you’ve heard but I moved to London for a while. Had a bangin flat share with some guys there. We had the time of our fucking lives.”

Andy seemed unbothered. Gary pressed on.

“I’m talking like a ten minute drive to some massive party central, yeah. Just some bonkers type clubs. Banshee, Batcave, Slimelight type shit, parties that start on Friday, hell, Thursday night, and we would keep going-”

A deadpan “That sounds great.”

“It was!”

Another second before he registered Andy’s genuine lack of enthusiasm, and Gary knew that was a signal to switch into a softer approach.

“It really was. I think you would’ve liked it. It’s the kind of shit we used to fantasize about, remember, back in high school.”

Which wasn’t all that long ago, really. They were only 25 now. The perfect age to party, to be let into the clubs and get their drinks legally, fuck around with some illegally acquired substances as well without any real lasting consequences. Or none until the ancient and still far off age of 30, 35 anyway.

He hesitated for a moment.

Then slowly, deliberately, touched his foot to Andy’s calf and dragged that touch up to his knee.

Andy recoiled from the connection before it could grow even more intimate. Gary pretended to be unaffected by the intensity with which he drew back.

“You could come with me if you want. We could be like Thelma and Louise.”

“Thelma and Louise drove themselves off a cliff.”

“No,” Gary contradicted him in a pedantic tone, “they’re the ones that, like, escaped their shitty little town by taking off together. In a kickass car.”

Andy again turned away, got up. The other had to stop himself from following right after him.

“I already escaped my shitty little town by myself, thanks.”

“Yeah, but you came back.”

“Just for the holidays.”

Gary nodded. “Same for me.”

“Is that a fact?” Andy instantly replied, sounding increasingly fed up with each quick response coming from the guy who had once again inserted himself into his life, entirely uninvited.

“Well. Yeah.”

“Cause I heard some other things, to be honest.”

Gary sensed the other was getting properly worked up now, and he relished the confrontation. Again, something familiar. Some tense back and forth. Some sense of normalcy. He leaned back on his palms, challenged Andy to continue.

“Did you, now.”

“I did. I heard you took up that job Steven’s da had set up for you and lasted less than a year before deciding you were above all that and instead wanted to take another stab at being a famous rock star. I heard you went to London where you failed at starting a band maybe four, five times. I heard your mum sent you money every week until your stepdad found out it was going straight into some hefty drug use, and there are a number of rumours as to how you continued funding that habit once they cut you off. I heard you moved back in with them five months ago and still haven’t found a job in the time since. Funny definition of a temporary stay.”

Well, damn. That did stop Gary in his tracks.

He wasn’t sure how to respond to all that.

Meanwhile Andy kept looking him dead in the face now, worked up, triumphant, daring him to come up with something good, and fast.

But whatever. He couldn’t let himself think Andy genuinely wanted to hurt him. It was all just friendly banter. Two friends catching up. Taking the piss. So what if he’d hit just a little too close to home. That’s what friends did. That’s what being close to someone allowed for them to be able to do. Still, he'd heard enough and now needed to deflect.

“Yeah, well... I heard you’ve been turning into some corporate droid as of late.”

It was the best he could manage at the moment. Andy only rolled his eyes.

“Whatever. I don't care for arguing with you. Congrats on your life turning out exactly the way you should’ve expected, Gary. Excuse me for not being impressed. But consider trying that shtick at the Mermaid. With some luck you might find someone at your level of maturity, who doesn’t yet understand that you’re a deadbeat loser with his best days far behind him.”

The offhand, casually hurtful way in which Andy said it rocked him more than the actual words. As though Gary really did mean nothing to him. Like they didn't have a shared past together.

Even if they had somewhat lost touch In recent years, he didn’t deserve this. This level of animosity, coming from Andy. Not while he had come in here with nothing but good intentions, genuinely happy to have the opportunity to speak with his best friend, for the first time in ages.

To instead be received like this made Gary feel a sharp stab of hurt, which he immediately chose to swap out for anger. What the fuck was Andy’s actual problem.

“Look at you, all fucking prim and proper with your degree, your button up shirt and secret papers. Bet you think you’re so much better than me.”

“Well, maybe I am,” Andy immediately took the bait, and that was not fair, he wasn’t supposed to actually go along with that. “Maybe acting responsible and being good to those I care about and not being a pathetic and childish dick actually does make me a better person. Have you ever considered that?”

“Ohh, well!” Gary was quick to defend, “If you’re sooooo grown up, then I’m guessing you don’t want any of these funny little pills, right?”

“And what the fuck are those?” Andy sighed, somehow managing to sound both incredibly angry and exhausted when realising this man had brought some type of drug into his parents’ house, looking on exasperated as Gary retrieved a plastic baggie of small, chalky tablets in a wide array of colours and started shaking some into the cup of his hand.

“Disco biscuits, which I would’ve been sooo happy to share with my friend for Christmas, but if you’re too good for that now, then I guess, fuck you.”

And with a big, demonstrative gesture, he leaned back and let the small handful of pills topple into his open mouth. He swallowed them straight down like candy. Then hunched back over his treasure and started shaking the baggie for a couple more, until he was roughly pushed by Andy and the rest of his stash dropped and scattered onto the floor below.

“What the hell are you doing! Are you fucking insane!”

And now Andy was on him, grabbing him by the arms and shaking, reprimanding.

“You fucking idiot, what did you do that for!”

Gary shrugged nonchalantly, as though it wasn’t a big deal. He’d grown used to a fair dosage over the years. Plus, this had been the cheap stuff he got from Eball, so the pills were probably cut down and diluted to shit anyway. And even if they weren’t, well, it had looked cool. He had felt pretty cool doing it. It had felt wild and unexpected and fun , the way they used to be when they were together.

And at least now he had caught Andy’s attention for real. He’d successfully evoked a genuine, caring reaction from him. Which kind of made this all worth it.

“Whatever. It’s fine.”

“It is not fine! Jesus Christ, Gary, what have you done! Fuck!”

Andy now grabbed his face and pried his mouth open, unwilling to believe he had actually gone and swallowed the entire load. To both their surprise, he roughly stuck two fingers into Gary’s mouth. Feeling around and, after not finding anything, jamming them halfway down the other’s throat.

Not eliciting much of a reflex. Oh right, that development was new.

Before Gary could make some suggestive comment about the discovery he was already dragged off the desk and out the bedroom. He had trouble even catching up.

“Oh, so now you do want to party with me?” This was delightful. He knew having pills on hand made him more bearable to be around.

“Shut up! I can’t believe-”

“Look, it’s all fine, man,” he tried to placate, as Andy kept hauling him down the stairs at a neck breaking pace. “What’s the rush? Where are we going?”

“Are you fucking kidding me! I’m getting you to a hospital, right now!”

Oh, yikes. Gary’d already had more than a few run-ins with hospitals, hospital staff, ambulances, the whole shebang. Because of, yes, the occasional night out. More specifically the blackouts, drug cocktails, the fights that came with said blackouts and drug cocktails.

In a sick sense he both relished and cringed away from their handling of him every time he ended up there. Especially when they inevitably saw what he had done to himself previously and then turned extra gentle in response. Sometimes it felt good to be seen. Most of the times he couldn't fucking stand their pitying looks.

He didn’t want to deal with all of that tonight. This was supposed to be a happy holiday type of reunion, with just him and his best friend.

“I am fine though, Andy. We don’t have to go.”

But Andy refused to even dignify that with a response, and before Gary could protest any further he was strapped into the front seat of a car - Andy’s dad’s car, the one they’d been driven around in countless times when they were kids, he car which Andy had learned to drive in and used until their group had got the Beast all to themselves, with the increased freedom and privacy it offered.

The other car door slammed shut. Gary looked over to the man by his side. Andy’s hands were shaking with adrenalin as he buckled himself in, his face now all business, mouth tight, eyes straight ahead. The car slipped and swiveled just so very slightly in the freshly fallen snow as they turned onto the main road. Then he hit the gas, and they sped off. The two of them, together.

Chapter 5: The Famous Cock

Notes:

May - "We're dating? Since when?"

“That is fucked up, man. Congratulations.”

“Congra- two -lations.”

“Heyyy.”

The poor excuse for a joke was followed up by the sound of high fiving, even despite their agreement on the grossness of whatever Gary had done. Andy shrugged it off. That was nothing new. Rather, the same old. He only rolled his eyes before making his way past the threshold.

As it turned out he was the last to complete their little group, as they were gathered together in Steven’s bedroom. Steve and Gary sat facing each other on the bed across from the door. Peter had made himself comfortable on the bean bag sidled right up to them and was following their conversation with rapt attention, though he did look over and waved in acknowledgement of Andy’s entering the room. He was the only one to extend that courtesy. That left Oliver in the desk chair, half swiveled towards the group and half engrossed in a copy of Forbes.

Gary looked towards him as an afterthought.

“But don’t tell Sam about that.”

“I wasn’t listening in the first place.”

Then Steven took note of Andy and gave his friend a subtle kick. All previous conversation subjects went promptly out the window.

“Heyyy, college boy!”

“Actually, it’s university-” Peter tried to argue for the millionth time, and Andy appreciated at least one person’s respect for the distinction. Even if no one else seemed to even take note of his correction.

Though he didn’t really mind it at all, as within seconds, Gary had flung himself at him, and Andy couldn’t deny he savoured the feeling of having him close again at last. He wrapped his arms around his friend in turn. It felt so good to have that same old Gary, right here. All his former school friends. The whole gang, back together. He hadn’t seen them since the Easter break. And those blissful few days they’d spent had passed way too quickly.

Even if the two of them had still found the time to…

Gary drew back, resumed his comfy place on the bed and launched back into his conversation with Steve. Right. They’d have plenty of time for all of that, later.

Peter caught his eye again and smiled. “Congrats on having your first year completed.”

“Thanks,” Andy replied, dropping his backpack and starting to rummage for the celebratory weed he’d brought along. There had been a frankly surprising amount of it doing the rounds on his campus. But he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth and felt more than happy to share his spoils with his closest friends, as they always had before.

“And congrats to you too, Oliver,” he remembered, receiving a courteous nod from the noticeably most adult-seeming guy in the room.

“It’s congra-two-lations all around, it seems,” came from the direction of the bed, and Steven smacked the speaker with a pillow for making that comment.

“I am guessing I missed something. Though I’m not sure I even want to know.”

“If he wants two kn-”

Gary dodged another whack with the pillow and kicked Steven, hard.

Oliver had turned back towards the desk to mix their newest arrival a clear yet highly alcoholic beverage - the main vice to be enjoyed at his respective campus, it seemed.

“We were discussing recent conquests,” Peter supplied, and his eyes shone with barely suppressed glee at the thought.

“Oh yeah?”

“... Maybe ‘we’ isn’t the most accurate term.”

“Hm.”

Having found the weed, he handed it over to Peter.

Steven already leaned back to crack a window open.

Meanwhile Andy walked over to Oliver, gladly accepting his drink. With the lack of additional places to sit, he decided to perch on the edge of the desk next to his friend.

“That’s a shame. No luck for you yet, then?”

Peter dodged their looks. Moving his attention towards Steven yielded the same result. Oliver only raised an eyebrow. And Gary, as ever, seemed bursting to share the news. He didn’t even need to be prompted to go on.

“ So , do you remember Kelly and Stacey Franklin. Let me start off by saying they are last year students right now so what I’m about to tell you is all totally legal,”

And so he launched into a reprise of the tale Andy had previously interrupted, describing in detail the when, what and how of the full encounter between the three of them involved.

Three friends seemed to listen with attention of varying degrees. As for Andy, nothing past those first few sentences really managed to get through to him.

He felt the blood drain from his face.

Was he having some sort of out of body experience?

He was watching Gary talk. He was vaguely aware there should be sound there. Even if the other was being plenty expressive with his eyes, mouth, and oh okay, lewd hand gestures to get the point across. But Andy could only hear a high pitched ringing in his ears at this point.

He was absolutely fuming.

He was gonna cry.

Somewhere in his peripheral vision Peter and Steven shared some incredulous look while listening to the tale.

He was not about to start fucking crying over this. Had to stay blank faced and cool about the entire thing, because what would the others think?

He took a sip from the glass in his hand. It tasted vile. He tried not to show it.

And worse, it offered him zero relief. He still couldn’t look away from Gary. And all of a sudden he felt so downright stupid. For how much he had been looking forward to seeing him again, having their old gang back together, the feeling they could do anything, share anything.

He knew all too well, not everything.

Even if Gary still seemed comfortable discussing plenty. And Andy hated how he kept looking back at him every so often mid sentence, mid description of fuck knows what. And what was he expecting in turn, then? For Andy to just nod and laugh along with them, not caring about those girls, that he had fucked them, and how doing that - it was now becoming apparent to him - meant absolutely nothing.

Again his friend - his what, buddy, pal, just a childhood friend, nothing more - looked back at him for what, approval? Boyish camaraderie? Or some sign betraying his envy, even?

Gary’s entire aura was still vibrant, eyes gleaming, mouth animate. Smiling about the whole thing. Keeping the others fully enthralled with his recounting.

This is how he thrived, truly in his element. And Andy hated how much he still wanted him.

Still in a strangely detached sort of manner, he watched himself fling his drink.

And just like that, from one moment to the next, Gary had stopped. Thank fuck for that. Stopped his drawn out and annoying yapping on about the entire thing. He could only sit there staring back at Andy (and only Andy now) in a stunned type of confusion. As if he truly did not understand what he’d done wrong. Fucking prick.

The sound started filtering back in. Steven’s dramatic complaint of whatever splatter had hit him in the crossfire. Oliver’s low murmur on a perfectly blended drink going to waste. The heavy breathing coming through his own nose.

Andy turned back to the desk - and he was standing now, when had he gotten up? - to put his empty glass down again. His hand was shaking. He tried to not be affected by that. He just had to get out of the door before his angry, angry tears would start to pour, as he knew they would.

“RIght,” he said, and he felt strengthened by the fact his voice didn’t even waver. “I’m off.”

“What the hell, Andrew,” Steven uttered.

Peter silently offered him a tissue from the box next to the bed. Steve accepted it after only brief hesitation.

Gary remained frozen, stock still.

But Andy was barely looking at him anymore. Already he was making his way again towards the door, picking up his backpack on the way out and trying not to let them know how shaky he felt.

“Come on now, Andy,” another spoke up. “We’ve all felt the impulse. Let me pour you another.”

“I am fine thanks, Oliver.”

“It doesn’t mean you have to go.”

“I’m not staying here with this… this dickhead!”

The insult was far from adequate, but at least it got the point across. Andy just decided to cut his losses and step out. Perhaps they could schedule another hangout at some later point over the summer, once he'd had the chance to get his mind straight again and he might be able to deal with things as they stood. As of right now, it was all still a bit much to handle.

He felt as though couldn’t breathe.

Peter’s whisper of “I think he maybe fancied Kelly” followed him into the hallway.

Barely three seconds later, one of his ‘friends’ did too.

Andy tried his best to outrun him, even if he knew from the start that would’ve proved to be pointless.

“Jeez, man”, came that voice, and Andy hated the fake casual tone Gary adopted, still trying to keep things light between them even now. “If I’d known you’d get all prissy about it I would’ve kept all the juicy details to my actual friends-”

“Well, I wish you had.”

“Ohhh, excuse me, how was I supposed to know that, what, one year at fancy boy college would turn you all precious about that sort of stuff.”

“It is not about that.”

At least they had quit the house now, having gone into the garden and its relative privacy.

Andy turned around to face his pursuer, maybe feeling confrontational after all if the other was looking for a fight.

But Gary was standing there looking at him, God, as they had stood and looked at each other millions of times throughout the years.

Raw and honest. Lost. Confused. Wanting to understand. Open in his emotion as ever, showing something deeper than offense over the wet clothes or just brushing off Andy’s initial response like before. If only that willingness to have a heart to heart could’ve come a little bit sooner than this.

“So then, what is it. You like one of them? Both? I mean you can have ‘em, they don’t mean a thing to me.”

“I know.”

His voice broke. Couldn’t even manage two fucking syllables.

Andy registered the sound of an upstairs window closing with a soft thud.

Even then it took Gary a few more seconds to process the actual issue. His entire face shifted from vague disbelief to fully baffled when realising what should have been clear from the start.

“Oh my God, so you’re jealous - like that ?”

And the humiliation of his complete surprise served as yet another stab right in the heart which made Andy turn around and start walking the fuck away again.

“Wait, hang on! Come on, man, how was I supposed to know-”

Now the anger was definitely building again. Which at least would be a solid barrier to fence in the genuine hurt of rejection stewing right underneath. And Gary was chasing after him. Andy only hoped he wouldn’t do something as stupid as try to hold him back. Grab him by the arm and try to turn him back around. If Gary tried to lay his hands on him in any way, he might actually fucking deck him.

“Whatever,” he gritted out, while still trying to leave this place as fast as he could. “You just do what you want. You live your life, and I’ll live mine, but some word of advice, the next time you are dating someone and then randomly decide-”

“Hold up, we are dating? Since when?”

And that was quite enough. Conveniently, Gary had come up right behind him in pursuit. Quick as can be Andy turned around and plainly pushed him. Hard. Not hard enough to actually hurt him or make him fall of course, but decidedly hard enough to let the other know he fucking meant it.

Part of him hoped the implicit threat would be ignored. That Gary would step right back up to him, so he could feel justified in giving him another, more intentional shove. And another, and another. Maybe then he’d actually feel better.

But Gary didn't. He just remained standing there. Just stood there dumbfounded. Still looking so confused and hurt about the whole thing.

To hell with him. Andy couldn’t care. Could not bear to do so. After months, years of them growing ever closer together until they had finally become, what he had thought…

Well, none of that mattered now. Turns out it had never been all that serious to Gary. So there would be no use in crying about it.

No use letting anyone know how badly he’d been affected.

“Whatever,” Andy repeated, staring at the ground now because that was easier than having to look his friend in the eye. “I overreacted. It’s fine. I’ll see you around.”

And before Gary - annoying, persistent, almost childlike Gary to be honest - could rope him back in, Andy turned around and just kept on walking.

Chapter 6: The King's Head

Notes:

Here we are, just in time for the special anniversary <3 And already we are halfway through this challenge? Which is crazy to me. But anyway.

June - paying a debt with your body

Life at the Knightley house went on without much to report. He had the space all to himself. Plenty of food in the pantry. A roof over his head. A bed to sleep in every night. And though Gary had seen some movement in the streets a handful of times - the hurried scuffle of humans, synchronised robotic clan or a lone hesitant stalking through the night which made it difficult for him to classify exactly to which species the other might belong  - either way, in general they would all bypass the more sequestered house and leave him in peace.

And whether he wanted to or not, Gary stayed alive, letting the days pass him by.

The first few had been absolute hell. A torturous mixture of a perpetual hangover, going cold turkey and oh yeah, being responsible for bringing on the apocalypse had kept him mostly in bed, wanting to shut it all out and maybe fade away simply by waiting things out.

Being in Andy’s bed, he’d still felt some duty to keep the space somewhat kempt. Even if he felt as though he had been tainting it just by existing there. Still. After his due time of only being able to manage lying curled up and miserable, the necessary bathroom breaks started with a lethargic muddling over there, his route then including a more determined sidequest to the kitchen pantry to stock up on more canned goods, to partaking in the occasional shower.

In time, Gary grew tired of lying in another's bed, only waiting to die.

And so there was room for at least some variation to his days. He got up to wander around the house. Lie on the living room sofa to stare out the window, or spend some time sitting in the kitchen trying to muster the energy to cook before settling for another handful of dry cereal.

Occasionally, and especially at night, he would slip back into that worried frenzy. The sharp kind of panic where he felt at a complete loss and as though he’d have to do something, anything, to stop himself from imploding completely. Cutting would take that first edge off. And then after, he’d start to reorganise every single thing in the house for a long continuation of hours, days, he wasn’t sure - but until the point of passing out due to exhaustion.

On some rare occasion, he could even find himself somewhat enjoying his time at the house, finding whatever measure of comfort he could discover. Wardrobe contents. Liquor cabinet. The collection of family photos, going all the way back to Andy's birth and before then. The bathtub was nice. And the garden was a good, peaceful place to retreat, its overgrown weeds like a buffer Gary might imagine keeping out the senseless world beyond. 

But he still slept a lot. Even as Gary’s days expanded, he couldn’t quite escape the feeling he was only biding his time until the universe would right itself again and he wouldn’t be forced to keep going on anymore.

 

One particular night in November, he woke up with a start.

Not due to his own ramshackle body; the smack withdrawals, apocalypse nightmares or general insomnia (and he really needed to write these down, Gary had half a mind to think even while terrified, you know, just in case he ever did end up starting another band).

No, it was because Andy was on top of him.

Not some imagined version from a wet or not so wet dream. The actually tangible, and actually very un-wet Andy, had kneeled over him on top of the covers to effectively trap Gary underneath. His sideways, curled up sleeping position left him with only his head and hands exposed to the air. He could hardly consider it comfortable.

Still struggling to fully wake up and maybe better comprehend what the hell was going on, Gary craned his head to get a better look at the person holding him down. His heart leapt. He looked good.

Well, just a bit sweaty and grimy, obviously. Living through a large-scale cataclysm would do that to a person. His clothes were a layered mess of protective fabric. His glasses, still fucked from headbutting what had once been their teacher, way back at the Hive. And obviously his demeanor had been vastly altered. It was a far cry from what Andy had been like mere weeks ago, when Gary had stopped by at his office in the city. Gone was the clean, straight-laced model of a human being. That version of Andy had been fully obliterated. Something more primal and alive had taken its place.

That’s how Gary knew it to be the genuine, human Andy to boot. No fabricated copy of a man could’ve exuded this deep kind of feeling towards him.

“Hi Andy.”

The other seemed to bear down on him a little harder, the edge of the sheets cutting down harder on Gary’s neck and wrists.

“Why are you here? And which you is it, anyway.”

“You know it’s me, man. The other one, I ripped its head off. You were there.”

The pressure didn't let up. Andy kept staring down at him tensely and poised to attack. “That doesn’t mean shit. They could’ve made loads of you.”

Shit. Gary dreaded that idea.

Thank fuck he didn’t have the space to ponder on it, with Andy still solidly on top of him and insisting he - what?

“Well, I am the real deal.”

A snort. “Lucky me.”

At least part of him was thrilled to hear Andy’s deadpan response, once again confirming that it was really him, in this bedroom, together again. Gary never would’ve thought it possible with how fucked everything had gotten.

But he was actually here. He’d come home.

Possibly to crush Gary to death, robot or no, going by the murderous glint in his eye. Ah, now that really brought back some memories.

“Yeah, lucky you.”

“And why exactly are you in my bedroom?”

Gary smiled up at him. “I just wanted to borrow your copies of ‘Huge Fat Cocks’. It gets lonely out there. And they might be good for bartering, too.”

Andy rolled his eyes. The pressure let up at least somewhat.

“That probably proves that I’m me, by the way. Right?”

Andy shook his head. “They had some selective memory. You know that.”

Well, in his current position, there wasn’t much Gary could do. He hesitated for a moment or two, then shuffled his hands slightly higher up on the pillow.

Inch by inch, more skin surface of his forearms was revealed. He knew he’d exposed them far enough when Andy winced.

“Christ, Gary.”

“Well, you wanted to know.”

Andy lifted himself off him then and instead moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Gary sat upright in kind. In truth, it was wonderful to see Andy in 3D. Breathing, alive and well, and right here in front of him. Gary suddenly felt eager to touch, taste, smell him too (no matter how foul that might be after fuck knows how many days without a shower), to make double and triple sure this wasn’t just his own mind fucking with him, and to absolutely drown in the presence of Andy, back with him at last.

Though he’d try to keep his cool.

“So. You wanna prove to me that you’re human?”

Still hunched over and without even looking at him, Andy raised a middle finger in his direction.

“Thanks. You can show me the other one too if you’d like.”

“Oh fuck off, Gary,” Andy then said, and his exasperation sounded so genuine it made Gary feel accomplished, a little impressed even with his own capabilities. “You don’t know what I’ve been through. The kind of time I’ve had, with Steven and Sam, or without them, all the shit I’ve seen. Wondering if I’d ever get to see you again, and in what horrifying type of context I’d have to see you die. Only to come look for shelter in my old place, and sure enough there you are, not a care in the world, dead comfortable in my own fucking bed-”

“Hey now man, don’t stress about that… I’m sure it could still fit the both of us, even if it seems you’re the only person on the planet to have actually gained weight since all of society collapsed-”

And then his back was flush against the mattress. With Andy having lurched for him so quickly he had been powerless to do anything about it, and now the other man on top of him again, Gary was being violently shaken, head snapping back and forth in whiplash as Andy once again seemed filled with that well-known rage intended only for him.

He couldn’t do much more than yell about it while enduring the reaction as deserved.

Andy eventually wore himself out and dropped the other again. A few more intentional shoves against the shoulder and his long pent up frustration seemed sufficiently vented. Until further notice.

“Fuuuck, Andy,” Gary wheezed. Though he, too, didn’t have much energy left beyond that.

“Just shut up. You don’t know. You do not know.”

“Okay. Jeez. But okay.”

They both remained in silence for a bit, still holding their respective positions, and Gary didn’t quite know what to do next. Not joke around, apparently. Though he couldn’t exactly take this the heartfelt, more serious route either. What was he supposed to say? That he’d been worried about Andy, too? Replaying in his mind every moment of that night, how he wished he had deviated from his path to stop the events from unfolding as they had - leaving with his two still remaining friends at the King’s Head, slinking off with one of the girls at the Mermaid, cutting his losses at the Cross Hands when he’d known the others had never even wanted a do-over of the crawl, anyway. Never reaching out to invite them in the first place. Dying of suicide some time last winter. Quickly and painlessly dying in a car crash almost two decades ago, or better yet, an overdose even before then, before ever having come back to Newton Haven past his teens.

Then everything wouldn’t be so fucked.

Hang on, why did he hear sniffling. Gary was long accustomed to these kinds of thoughts. If anything they were a bigger comfort than whatever reality he’d find himself in.

Drawn back to the present, he saw Andy now start to twitch and shiver where he sat. Oh.

“Hey man, I’m sorry.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“... You wanna knock me about a little more? I mean, if that would make you feel better.”

To his surprise, that only made Andy cry more - deep and dry heaving, horrible sobs - and the man who first had been leering over him now crumpled, bent towards Gary, and came to lie down beside him seeking some source of comfort.

Still baffled, Gary put his arms around him.

“Uh, there there. It’s alright.”

He rubbed Andy’s back, hoping it might help soothe him. He was still at a loss as for what else he could do but happy to take directions for once.

Even through the covers, Gary felt a leg sliding up against his own. He looked down at their bodies. Andy was aligning himself with his own form, moulding himself against the other person as if instinctively trying to get as close as humanly possible.

“Hah. Told you we’d both still fit.”

“Gary,” Andy groaned, though it lacked all the heat and actual grudge from before. At least his means of deflecting had helped to take all that energy out of him. At least he was no longer at a risk of getting pummeled again. Probably.

“Yeah,” the other agreed, drawing back a bit to get a closer look at Andy’s face and better gauge his further intentions. “I’m here with you, man.”

Andy wiped his tears away. He breathed in, composed himself before levelling Gary with a stern look.

“You left.”

Gary chose to not look him in the eye then, fixing Andy’s hair instead. “Hmm.”

“You left,” the other insisted, and his eyes, though not yet burned, still were attempting to kindle a small hole into Gary’s walls the more he tried to avoid their attention. “We went through all of that, all of that, and you just left.”

“Mm.” He was looking at Andy’s glasses instead now. The broken frame. Snapped clean in two, stuck together with a different half which didn't even remotely match the original design. More small details of him to get lost into.

“I spent all my time looking for you.”

Something indescribably soft crept into his voice and oh, Gary could work with this. That could actually help them move forward from wherever the fuck they'd arrived.

He did finally dare look Andy in the eye, and his former friend was looking at him openly. Suddenly vulnerable. But also, not weak or compliant because of that transparency, at all.

Yeah, that would do just fine for him.

It was the easiest thing in the world to move his hand down to Andy’s jaw, then lean in for the kiss. He was met halfway.

Their lips met again. It had been too long. It had barely been two months, really.

But they kissed. Lying entangled in Andy’s bed. As they’d done before. As they should’ve done more often in their life. As they could still make up for right now.

As Gary could still make up for, to level things out after all that he’d ruined over time.

Andy's eyes drifted shut. Good. No more of those dark and, fine, rightfully accusing looks aimed in his direction. The other moaned into the contact. Turned more fully towards Gary, who happily obliged.

A hand came to cup his cheek, mirroring the touch he still kept on Andy. Their legs interlocked. The hand moved to the back of his head to grab some unkempt tufts of his hair. The kiss deepened.

A wet slide of tongue. Gary still knew exactly how Andy liked it, how to get back into his good graces for now. They slowly made out, grabbing at each other, emitting small sounds when this contact between them started feeling particularly good.

So they needed to break away and come up for air a few times.

“You taste like absolute ass, by the way.”

“You taste like ass. Reckon that nightstand still got any mints?”

They dove back in for more necking for some extended time.

Soon enough though, Gary found a more pressing matter arising, so to speak.

He figured it was only another clear cut method to score him some brownie points.

Andy moved his ministrations along his jawline and down his neck, and it provided him with the opportunity to speak.

“You know, there are other places I could put my mouth to use.”

“Mm,” Andy moaned blissfully, from somewhere down by the collar of his shirt.

“I mean it,” Gary insisted, moving his thigh between Andy’s as best as he could while with the sheets still in the way. “I’d be happy to do it.”

“Hmm,” Andy responded, shuffling back up to kiss Gary on the cheek. “That does sound nice. But maybe not right now, yeah.”

He was looking at him all genuinely lovey now, so Gary looked down at both their bodies instead. Oh yeah, there was definitely something to work with there.

“Come oonn,” he teased.

He worked the covers off himself - it was growing way too hot under there, anyway - and kicked them down towards the end of the bed as best he could. He trailed a finger along the belt buckles of Andy’s trousers, teasing, along the outside of his thigh, then over, down, to the inseam. But his friend didn’t spread his legs to accommodate. So fine then. Straight to the dick, it was.

Gary palmed the outline of it, straining against the fabric, and Andy shuddered on the exhale of breath. Which had to be a good sign to be sure. At the very least it wasn’t a no.

It wasn’t a stop, let’s consider this, let’s consider us, which was all Gary could wish for right now.

So even if the position was a bit cramped, he felt his way up and down the length of it, marvelling at the warmth he swore he could feel even through the two layers of clothes keeping them separate.

“I could make you come fucking hard.”

Andy laughed, incredulously. But it still wasn’t a no. Even as Gary loosened the button, unzipped his pants, could feel Andy only through one thin layer of clothing now.

“Ohh, so what, you got me all figured out, then?”

“Yeah. Bet I could still suck you off just the way you like it.”

“Well, maybe things have changed, mate.”

“I doubt it.”

Andy shimmied his pants and underwear down far enough to be exposed, and Gary grabbed his dick knowing he had won.

At that first real touch Andy surrendered to him, rolling half on top and starting to slowly rock his hips as Gary stroked his cock. Fuck, he was fully hard, and already sticky. Not nearly enough though in order for this to work. Gary brought his hand up for a second so he could lick his palm - already tasting salt, tangy, but having made the suggestion he would still be open to bear it later on - and started working his dick again, now with an easier slide.

And he knew he was doing a good job. Andy made that low keening sound, the one he hadn’t heard in decades, and his cock throbbed in his grasp only confirming he was on the right track. Good. This was something he was good at. This was something he could achieve.

He tested another kiss to his friend’s lips, and Andy instantly opened up, plunged his tongue into the other’s mouth.

Which was a surprise, but not exactly an unpleasant one. Just a further numbing of the senses. Everything became Andy. He was being enveloped by him. Nothing else existing but the two of them and what they were doing right here.

Gary closed his eyes.

Made sure he kept stroking the other’s cock. Hard in this direction, then harder in the other. Teasing just a bit by getting fully down to the base and into Andy’s pubes, feeling his way around to his balls and upper thighs, then back to the main event with renewed vigour. All his attention shifted to Andy. The effect each movement had on him, the minute shifts, sounds, every sign of confirmation that Gary was still worth something in this way.

If he could make Andy feel this good, maybe he’d consider giving their connection another chance.

“Please, Andy,” he said, loud enough to be heard over the other’s increasingly urgent groans into the quiet of the room. “Please, come on, let me suck you off.”

“Feels too good,” the other managed, still burying himself into the contact with increasing urgency.

“You close?” Gary checked in with him, even if he barely needed to ask.

Andy nodded, gritting out “just like that,” again grasped for the side of the other’s face, then moaned and came in a few hot spurts.

It dribbled all over Gary’s hand and lower arm, and onto his clothes. Well. That was the most solid evidence he could’ve possibly asked for.

He wriggled his hand out from where it was still half-caught between them both, and covertly wiped at least some of it clean before patting Andy on the back. He still seemed lost in a daze after all those ups and downs they'd had.

“Fuuck,” the other panted in response.

“That was good, right?”

Andy hummed, nodding, then kissed Gary again. Lazily, tongue sliding against the seam of his now closed lips.

“Yeah. Thanks. Fuck. Did you-?”

“Yeah,” Gary lied. At least the darker shade of his own trousers made it hard to determine whatever had or hadn’t happened there. Still keenly remembering what a post-orgasm Andy was like, he figured no close examination would’ve been pursued anyway.

“Wow,” the other smiled in a soft and dopey way, for the first time now looking perfectly comfortable and content in their shared vicinity. “Did that really do it for you, without even being touched?”

“Yeah.”

He kissed him again. “Horny fuck. Maybe you’re right, some things really haven't changed.”

A notion with which Gary was inclined to agree. Doing all of this still seemed to come to him naturally as ever, in any case.

Andy was still kissing his face, making a trail from his lips across his cheek, to his ear, down his jawline and neck. The movement was already getting sluggish, though. Gary wasn’t quite sure if he felt relieved or dreadfully hollow because of it. Maybe he would've wanted more of Andy. Even while knowing he wouldn't have deserved any of it. 

Not getting much of a response, Andy moved again to lie beside the other, reached down and at least tugged his underwear back into place. He settled in comfortably. The childhood bed kept them in close proximity and likely would do so all night.

“Hey," Andy finally spoke, on the edge of drifting into sleep. "Thanks. It’s good that you are here.”

Gary’s brain seemed to stagger with the lack of an immediate response.

It didn’t matter. Within seconds Andy fell asleep, not minding or even registering the complete and utter silence of his friend.

Chapter 7: The First Post

Notes:

July - kidfic, vacation together

Gary sat in the swimming pool in his back garden. Which was nothing fancy. It was the single same inflatable kiddie pool they'd had for ages, and the thing stood barely two feet high. Still, it was the thought which counted. That and the fact there even was the opportunity for him to sit there, eyes closed, basking in the sun.

Life was good. Life was easy.

School was out and he had finally made it to the summertime.

Which meant no more responsibilities for the next few weeks. No homework, no tests, no having to sit in a chair hopelessly failing to pay attention all day when there were so many distractions, impressions, thoughts popping up in his head all the time. No more struggling to stay focused in the here and now. No more making the teacher mad at him whenever they’d ask him a question and he, inevitably, would not know whatever subject in their text book they’d arrived at.

None of that mattered now. It was in the past. By some miracle he had survived all of primary school. He’d never have to answer to those teachers again.

An entire summer of freedom was ahead, with no set expectations he would fail to meet.

Which was both a relief and an annoyance. Not seeing the teachers was great. Having an endless sea of time and not enough action to keep him occupied, not so great.

At least there was one friend he could always rely on.

“Here,” Andy announced himself. Not looking, Gary reached out a hand, and he received an um bongo in return. He patiently waited for more boons, but nothing came. He did glance aside then.

“What, no snacks?”

Andy took his place beside him, lowering himself into the shallow pool of water while opening his own drink. He shook his head before trying a sip. “She’s cutting up more fruit.”

Gary groaned. Maybe life wasn’t that great, after all.

All the other kids in their class were making good use of their summer. Katie said she was going to Blackpool. Shane and his brothers would visit Alton Towers, Camelot and Thorpe Park in July alone. Karen would spend over an entire month somewhere in Europe - France or Italy or something, he forgot.

Meanwhile Gary would be stuck here all summer, since his mum still had to work. It was so unfair.

Andy looked back to the house, then leaned in conspiratorially. Gary mirrored him without even consciously thinking about it.

“I brought biscuits from home,” his friend confided. “As well as some tapes from my cousin’s horror collection. Like The Evil Dead. Alien. Some weird looking werewolf movie.”

He perked up at this. Finally, some excitement. Something to boast about approximately a million years from now, when school would start again and everyone would be comparing notes on who had just spent the best time off. At least he and Andy would have a thing or two to talk about - something worthwhile.

“You’re the best.”

Andy nodded, looking pleased with himself.

“I even thought to switch the covers. We can pretend we plan on watching E.T. or Grease in case your mum wants to know.”

Gary nodded. So that was their afternoon, all settled. He took a sip from his own juice. Leaned back, happy to be outside and feel the sun on his skin for a bit.

It itched a little, the way his mum said meant it was time to reapply sun lotion. He didn’t feel like moving, though. He felt good right where he was. With the sun beating down on him, a friend by his side, music drifting into the back garden from the kitchen window, where someone was cutting up fruit for them to eat. Maybe he would like some, after all. Maybe with a scoop of ice cream and chocolate sauce on top.

Experiencing some weirdly detached sense of self, though not in a bad way, Gary suddenly sort of reevaluated where he was and realised how perfectly happy he felt. Right here. In this spot. With the prospect that soon his mum would come out and then need to leave, and eventually he and Andy would go back inside and watch those movies, stay up later than they’d be allowed to since there’d be no adults around to stop them or school to wake up early for, and it was the summertime, and they were free.

He intended for himself, made the secret pledge to best enjoy these moments to the fullest, before summer would come to an end.

After which life would return to normal. And the both of them would be heading back to school. Whichever way that would turn out.

Andy let out a happy sigh. He seemed more than happy to leave things as they were for now and sit in quiet enjoyment, side by side in the small kiddie pool in the back garden. But now Gary’s thoughts had started churning and gnawing at him, which of course meant he had to speak his mind about the entire matter.

“Hey, so. What do you reckon things will be like?”

Andy slightly turned his head towards him. “Huh?”

“Y’know, with school. The big secondary.”

“Oh,” the other said, sounding casually surprised and as though he hadn’t granted that quickly nearing future a single moment of thought until the question had been posed. “I dunno. Much of the same, I guess.”

Gary frowned. It was hardly the answer he had hoped for.

“Don’t you think it’ll be, I don’t know, different?”

Andy drank the final bit of his juice pack, taking his time to try and extract even the last gratifying drop before continuing that conversation between them both.

“Different how?”

“I dunno... Just, different.”

“From what?”

“I don’t know,” Gary said, getting at least somewhat worked up with the other’s confusion, when he had hoped for nothing but immediate understanding and agreement. “Different from what we’ve known so far in school.”

“Well, pretty much the entire class is making the move with us. Or do you mean, ‘cause we’ll be learning new stuff?”

“Obviously we’ll be learning new stuff, Andy. I meant more like, just by being in secondary school now. In high school. Like real teenagers. Don’t you think that’ll mean something?”

“I guess…” the other pondered, and they returned to silence for a bit.

Gary splashed some water on his face to cool down. Well, now he started feeling stupid. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up. Or at least worded it differently, so that his thoughts could have made more sense when spoken out loud, and maybe then Andy would’ve understood him straight away. But that never really worked out for him. Trying to say stuff, really say it as he intended, often got complicated, especially the more he thought about it and the more he really wanted to make himself clear. That never seemed to work out. So mostly he found just doing things as they came and seemed right to him to be the more straightforward path to follow. Even if that kind of acting before really thinking method often got him in trouble. This stilted kind of miscommunication was hardly any better. Made him feel like some kind of idiot, like-

“Gary, what do you think we’ll be when we grow up?”

The sudden question startled him right back into the here and now. Some direct input to keep him occupied with a new response to give.

It was an improvement from the previous subject, while still in the vicinity of whatever it was Gary was trying to put into words. He himself still couldn't put a finger on what it exactly was and why it mattered so much to him. But it was a lead for him to follow. And maybe get closer to whatever it was he needed to get to the bottom of.

“I don’t know,” he leaned into the hypothetical. “But I want it to be something important, and to make loads of cash. So I can get us a bigger swimming pool. And a trampoline. And maybe a car.”

Andy laughed, and Gary started feeling better already. Previous worries were already starting to fade into the background, soon to be forgotten about entirely.

“This pool isn’t too bad,” the other reasoned, and nudged Gary’s leg with his own. It wasn't a vast distance to cross for two not-quite-kids-anymore in a still-kid-sized tub. It had served them well throughout the years but yeah, they were definitely starting to outgrow it. Once they both hit puberty, there would be no longer be the space for a second person without getting uncomfortably close to one another.

Andy didn’t retract his leg from where it touched Gary’s. It was nice.

“I think I’d want to become some type of athlete. Like a boxer. Or a rugby player. Or one of those wrestlers you see on tv.”

And just like that, they were back on the same wave length. Those options seemed exactly right for Andy. Gary could picture him as any one of those, easily. A complimentary role for himself somewhere in that future came to mind much easier, once he had this initial idea to further build upon.

“Well, then maybe I could be your manager. I could choose what teams or opponents you’d best compete with, and help you sell merch and stuff.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Then we could go all across the world like that. Once we’re adults and can do whatever we want. You and me. And it’d be like one big party, which would never have to end.”

Andy smiled a big, toothy grin at the thought. “That sounds nice.”

“It would be.”

It really would. It'd be like one long, endless summer, with no one to tell them what to do or how to live their life. Gary found himself looking forward to it already. What had he been worried about, again? The details were already getting fuzzy, and he felt more than happy to let them go. What would be the point in worrying anyway when it was a beautiful day, and he had Andy by his side, and he was starting to understand that maybe life could forever be like this.

“But first we get through secondary.”

Oh, right. That had been it. The unpredictability of those years still to come. But even that would be fine. Gary knew whatever good or bad thing would cross their paths, they would get to face it together. And surely the older he became, the better his life would get. The previous chapter had been closed and sealed off. Secondary would be a huge new step, the last one before becoming an adult and getting full independence. He quietly wished these next few years would be the best of his life.

Chapter 8: The Trusty Servant

Notes:

August - “you’re thinking too much”, becoming a monster

It was too hot. A crowd of bodies, everywhere. A large room with coloured lights, more sleek and modern looking than it used to be back in their glory days, which only meant it threw Andy off more when he tried to gather his senses. Where were they again?

They had crossed the halfway point, he was fairly certain of that. But he felt as though they still had an impossibly long way to go before they’d make it to the end. If they would make it to the end.

The image of the Reverend’s dejected appearance continued to haunt him even despite his increasingly foggy and muddled recollection of the night so far. His complete surrender to the invisible supervisor as he had made his way past them, like a child lining up for a dreaded punishment. No putting up a fight. No trying to argue with the fate he had so suddenly been dealt. Just the quietest, most defeated “thanks a bunch” as parting words before he had turned from them to disappear into another room.

Even if nothing more had been said, they had all felt what must’ve happened to him next. The bleak and inescapable inevitability of it all.

It only proved that once their time was up, there would be no fighting this gang of… nobots? Fauxbots?

Whatever it was they had decided to go with - whatever their small and disassembled clique of former friends would choose to call them, it would make no difference. They had willingly stepped into this trap, and the door had long shut behind them. They had been doomed from the start. Or at the very least, from the second Gary had started that fight in the bathroom (just the thought made Andy’s anger at the injustice of that flare up again, but the level of alcohol sedated him and ensured that the feeling couldn’t last).

They had been stupid enough to think they might still make it out of this town unscathed, if only they kept up the act of feigning ignorance and otherwise did not engage any further. If only that degree of denial could hold any real power.

Truly, Andy hated the degree to which his brain could still think clearly. There was no denying the obvious truth. Even despite the alcohol, which, unaccustomed to it as he was, was making him sick to his stomach.

His nausea was due to either that, or the dawning realisation that none of them would live to see another sunrise.

Whatever these things were, the collective these blanks were a part of - they had killed the Rev without hesitation the very second he had shown even some allegiance to a group of fresh invaders. Someone who had long been loyal to the robots. Someone who, for all these years, had managed to survive.

None of that had meant anything. The permittance of his life had changed on a dime, and now he was dead. Why would their chances of survival be any more promising?

Becky Salt swayed in front of him, her eyes unblinking, fixed on Andy’s face. She put the rim of his pint against his lips and he drank gratefully.

Compared to all of that, this place wasn’t the worst.

Maybe they could be persuaded to stick around for a bit longer.

Should there really be such a rush to complete this damn Mile? Either they would or they wouldn’t. But that decision was firmly out of their hands. Their group would make it exactly as far as that system would plan and allow for them to go, and not an inch further.

Andy, for one, was not looking forward to his untimely demise.

Someone bumped into his back. He wasn’t sure if it was the sole person responsible for getting them in this mess, or just one of many eerie, uncannily crisp and clean looking faces crowding the joint.

His slowed, but still irritatingly rational mind corrected itself on the spot.

For once, this wasn’t something he could entirely blame on Gary. Even if he had been the biggest and most fervent supporter of this idiotic plan.

Every single member in their group had chosen to come here. Not only that, they had chosen to stay. Even after an hour-long wait at the train station. After the minor annoyances at the first few pubs, and a complete escalation at the fourth. Sure enough, in some still miraculously small and sober corner of his mind Andy knew there should be safety in numbers and hell, even if there wasn’t, he’d rather go down fighting than be snuffed out while wandering about all on his own, with no one to even bear witness and know he had died at all.

It was a fate that could have been avoided and a path he still regretted being on. But having brought himself this far in, he felt powerless to change anything about it. The trap had been set and they had all walked right into it. There was nothing to be done about that now.

So what other option was there but to continue following Gary down this path of communal self-destruction. Alternative options to proceed were low on offer.

And at least in this stop on their crawl, there were more distractions to be enjoyed. No rekindling of old memories and all those good times, never to be had again. No more recognising the parts you once loved about your old friends and realising some deeply buried version of you had actually missed them. No more fighting for your life. No more fearing others might die.

That cold shock grabbed a hold of him even through the haze of drunkenness, and Andy felt the need to take quick stock of everyone in their clique. Pete on one side, looking a little stiff and unused to the attention he was given. Gary to the other side and oh, massively more at ease, it would seem.

Andy himself made three.

Steven and Sam had been standing pretty closely to one another the last time he had seen them, so maybe they had snuck off to find a slightly more private place to dance, the anonymous crowd shielding them from the eyes of the rest of their group. Either that or they’d found an entirely private place, a stock- or cloakroom somewhere nearby. Andy only hoped they would make the best use of whatever time they’d still have left.

As for Oliver… shit, where had he gone?

His eyes had swept over him twice before Andy managed to spot him. And no wonder Ollie had blended in with the blanks so well - a small gathering of onlookers stood perfectly immovable and still just at the edge of the dance floor, staring ahead. Oliver looked much the same.

Some thoughts as to why this didn’t sit entirely right with Andy started to percolate, drudgy and slow due to the copious amount of drinks consumed so far… but before he might reach any full conclusion, Becky raked her fingers through his hair and tried to go in for another kiss. The jolting memory that, even despite everything, he was still married, which meant absolutely no kissing other women, took precedence over any other trains of thought that were still floating around half formed inside his mind, and with that he was drawn right back into the presence.

“You're thinking too much,” a pair of salacious red lips spoke. Andy felt inclined to agree.

She was pretty, even if she was a bit too handsy for his liking. But it felt nice to be wanted. And even if this couldn’t lead to anything - both because he was married and because she was too good to be true, had to be one of those people who weren’t robots but couldn’t really be people either - still, it was nice to lose track of time. Or lose track of however many stops they’d have left until this crawl would have to be put to an end. 

The multicoloured lights washed over all those present, drowning these worries out, along with the long forgotten beats of… god, was that Deee-Lite?

Even if the decor didn’t ring familiar, the choice of music definitely did. Had they made this change for the five, Andy corrected himself, for the six of them? Looked through the old school records to see who they were and adjusted accordingly? To make them feel more welcome, more at home?

There was something comforting about the thought. All evening their friend group’s outing had felt off, like they just couldn’t get it quite right even if they’d try. Small changes, refurbishments, not being recognised by figures which had been there and had borne witness to their exploits for all those mythical years, a long time ago.

Gary bumped into him again. There had been those bigger changes, as well.

And maybe Andy didn’t want to admit it, but perhaps that’s why he had chosen to keep tagging along even despite all the warning signs along the way. In that stupidly naive chasing of some place of belonging. Of home.

He took another sip of his glass. What was the meaning of that word to him, anyway. Home. The family house they had built in a quiet neighbourhood, only a twenty minute drive from work. With the formal living and conservatory and master suite with double vanity sinks.

He could conjure up the picture in his mind. The windows would be fully dark and void tonight. How long would it even take for his family to realise he was dead.

 

Woof. Death. Andy remembered the last time he’d had a close call with it.

The jagged scar on his leg ached accordingly.

It seemed both eerily recent and a lifetime ago. Being here like this had gotten everything all mixed up and confused, and Andy was certain the drink didn’t help either.

But he hoped it would be gentle, when his time would come. That had been the weird, at first surprising but then unexpectedly comforting thing about the accident. That initial shock and rush of adrenalin - fear, anger, all compacted before bursting from every cell of his being - then fading into the background as he realised and accepted that none of it really mattered with the die cast, the chips down, and nothing to do but lie and wait for his fate to catch up to him.

Or for him to catch up to his fate. Whichever it was. It didn't matter.

Becky turned away from him and slowly rolled her body back against his. Andy was beyond caring about whatever she, it, would decide to do. Still, he backed off. Didn’t seem right, even if chances were his wife wouldn’t care one bit about anything he got involved in on this fateful trip. Besides, whatever happened in Newton Haven, it seemed, would be sure to stay there anyway.

He shot a quick glance at Peter, who was dancing only a few feet away from him. Sweater rucked up over his stomach, he and his companion seemed in the middle of a tug of war over his shirt buttons. The victor was as of yet undecided.

He didn’t dare look at Gary, suspecting that battle was long over.

 

Dying was not what he had wanted from this night. It wasn’t a thing any of them deserved. Andy wished he could go home, even if he wouldn’t receive the warmest welcome possible.

But death would be coming. It could be lurking behind any and every corner.

A thought came to his mind, surprising Andy with how natural the option seemed to suggest itself. Could it be now? Would it be possible? And again, would that be such a bad thing?

Surely this would be the perfect place for them to do it, with everyone split up and distracted and already seeming to drown in the homogenous sea of bodies surrounding them. Even if the two friends by his side were too far gone to realise that, Andy felt an unexpected rush of relief to know at least this time around, he wouldn’t be left to die alone. 

Crystalline blue eyes stared into him and he staggered back. Shit, when had she turned around again?

Becky exuded eagerness as she studied him. Even if Andy wondered what she might be able to read from his unguarded expression, he felt too vulnerable, caught and confused to do much about that at this point in time.

After another brief few seconds of being examined like that, the girl-shaped machine moved closer, fully invading his personal space for only the hundredth time in however long they had been in this place. It was as though she sensed his limits might be tested, borders moved just slightly, but exactly far enough for her, or rather their collective benefit to be gained.

Two sturdy and self-assured palms placed themselves on his chest, then slowly made their way up, up, up, over his sternum and the bare skin of his soft, exposed neck to his ears and into his hair. Her grip was forceful. Andy wasn’t fighting it, either way.

Those eyes again peered into his, and he didn’t flinch from their inspection. Let her look. Let her know. Even while resenting the fact and feeling powerless to do anything about it, Andrew Knightley would not be afraid to die.

Face stoic and unchanging, one of her hands moved to cover his face. Well, that was odd. Maybe she planned on taking his glasses again.

The palm vibrated just slightly against his nose. She started heating up. Huh.

Before he could process whatever the fuck was happening, Andy was yanked back from her touch. 

He reeled, regained his balance. What was going on?

And now suddenly it was Sam standing in front of him, and the panic in her eyes helped him sober up in small but significant increments.

“Andy!”

“... Wha?”

It was difficult to hear her over the music. He could barely make out a single word she said. But the increasingly unsettled look in her eyes and repeated shifting of her attention to some point behind her served more than enough to get the message across. The hazy bubble had burst. Danger had caught up with them. It was time to boo boo.

 

Barely twenty seconds later Andy was the last to follow their escape from the Mermaid, and the cold rush of fresh autumn air hit him in the face. God, that felt amazing. They’d live to see another minute. Possibly more. And though the sweet and comforting lull of the entertainment inside had felt so alluring, Andy now felt ashamed of himself and relieved for the change, to be freed of that suffocating crowd and heat and pressure.

Dark skies, but fresh air. Life. He was alive.

And all of them had made it out unscathed: Steven, Sam, Peter, Oliver, even Gary. They had all made it back out onto the street, and they were discussing whether or not they should continue on to the next pub. 

Andy could barely focus enough to provide much of an input on that. His mind was still struggling to sober up. But Steven seemed adamant. Sam had been spooked. Peter seemed more drunk than he was. Even despite the general brain fog, Andy knew which people in his group he trusted the most.

He wasn’t sure if the others might be convinced, though. Everyone seemed to be interrupting and talking over each other. Something about replicating DNA. Something about aqua nazis and fields.

He didn’t need to understand the reasoning. He wholeheartedly agreed with Sam. Something felt off. They had to leave. How could Gary still be so relaxed? How could Oliver still be so convinced of a different plan?

He himself didn't have some plan to assert. Any direction would be the wrong one. Any step would only be a step closer to their inescapable death. And still, he was glad to be out of that place. The lights, the noise, the confusion. Even if it had been a nice, temporary reprieve from being actively chased or hurt, they had been no safer in there than they were out here.

And Andy had almost fallen for it. For that false sense of safety and belonging. What had happened there between him and Becky, nearing the end? What had almost… He still couldn’t make sense of it.

But he felt ashamed of how close he had come to surrender, and angry he had let himself be duped. Even if Peter and Gary wanted to share a high five over the fact. That bit of truth and self reflection had been nothing to be proud of.

And worst of all, it had taken his wedding ring.

Andy held up his hand for inspection, just to verify he remembered it right. The visual had been something else. Both weirdly arousing and the most unwarranted thing he could’ve imagined to happen in that place.

But yeah. The ring was fully gone.

And sure, Andy knew their group of six couldn’t possibly stand a chance taking on a whole town of robot people, but this was just disrespectful. To rob him of something so sentimental, the most precious, most symbolic thing on his person before he was even properly dead - what type of fucked up entity would pull something like that? It was taunting and cruel. It was revolting. It was dehumanizing.

It wasn’t fucking fair.

He would prefer it if they just came out and attacked them now. Even if everyone in his group would die. At least with a direct confrontation, things would be out in the open. At least then he’d be allowed the chance to go down fighting. He hoped whatever would be left of him after would be too damaged to be recycled into some tool benefiting their side. They didn’t have that fucking right.

Andy was not afraid to die. But he wasn’t afraid to live either. And he would hold on to his humanity for as long as he could. Whatever these blanks wanted from him, they’d have to rip it from his cold, dead hands. And they couldn’t assume to just move in and claim it even a second before that time would come.

Meanwhile it seemed the next step had been decided. The others were on the move again. Onto the next pub. One, two, three going eagerly, two following with caution, and Andy as the final straggler, making his conscious decision to step in time. They were a band of interlopers. Wherever they’d go, pushback would follow. Fine. He was geared up for it. They assumed his passing would be easy. He would like to see them try.

Chapter 9: The Old Familiar

Notes:

You saw it right I am publishing this on September 23rd. Happy bi day to Gary King my favourite mess of a bisexual. Oh no thank you I have no need for anyone to officially confirm or deny that which I already know in my heart to be true. Peace and love on planet earth.

September - high school sweethearts, semi public, ”come here”. They all fit too well together and I could not help myself.

These years truly felt like they might be the best of his life. He just got a new piercing. The band was making some great new songs, even if they still hadn’t settled on a name. He finally had his own car. Maybe by the start of the next year he would’ve paid it off in full. School had started again, for the very last time around.

Gary was eagerly looking forward to his future. He had a sneaking suspicion things could only keep on getting better from here on out.

Though again, his present wasn’t too shabby either.

Andy’s body crushed his against the wall. He was all warm and solid and still smelling of grass and sweat after his rugby training. They had both finished their respective types of after school activities and enjoyed the spare time to share in some additional activity before they’d have to part ways. As per usual, they had set out to get the most out of whatever time they had.

He smiled. Andy still kept on trying to kiss him nonetheless.

So Gary contained his happiness in order for them both to fully utilise the opportunity before their time would be up. Andy’s tongue slid into his mouth and they both moaned at the contact. Fuck, he had missed this. He grabbed the other’s face and tried to pull him closer still. Andy’s steady hands meanwhile drifted down his shoulders, sides, to his ass, and hitched him up.

Gary opened his thighs so Andy could better slot a leg underneath him. They fit together perfectly. It felt a bit like coming home.

They pressed closer. He could feel his friend’s dick was already growing more interested as they continued their mutual appreciation for one another.

He draped his arms over Andy’s shoulders and allowed for himself to get lost in the kiss. He knew he had lucked out immensely with the way things had developed between them. Whether he deserved it or not, this was just the best. Right here and now, it was just the two of them. He and his friend. Boy… Best friend. Boy best friend, safety blanket and occasional hookup during whatever stolen moment they could get, in between school and home life.

Yeah, life was pretty incredible. Gary wished he could feel like this forever.

 

He wasn’t sure how many minutes had passed until somewhere down the hall a door fell shut and Andy drew back, instantly on alert and entirely focused on the disturbance.

Fuck. Both of them pulled straight back into the normal world, as it were. They listened for a few more seconds with bated breath.

The sound of the slam still echoed, but no footsteps followed. That didn’t seem to help ease Andy’s general apprehension.

Gary made some noise of complaint which went entirely unacknowledged.

“Come on, man,” he whined, tugging on his hookup’s collar and licking at his earlobe. To no avail. He pressed his crotch against Andy’s, half hard cock still clearly noticeable even through the layers of clothing keeping them apart. His friend only flashed him an irritated, slightly anxious look in response.

“Just shush for a sec.”

“Hey,” Gary tried again, “come on, relax. There’s no one out there, yeah?”

He now leaned back a bit and stroked the sides of Andy’s face, coaxing him to focus his attention again where it was most wanted. The other stayed wary and on edge for a few more torturous seconds, but it was obvious no more sounds would follow from the other rooms nor the hall just outside. They were safe. They were alone. 

Realising this, Andy sighed deeply. Again he leaned into his taller (and very grateful, excited) friend, but all the heat and urgency had evidently seeped from him now. This felt more like an embrace for the sake of seeking comfort. Gary paused for a moment, but then resolved to endure it. Patted the other on the back. They might still return to business once the initial fright had passed. The endless well of post-rugby adrenaline had never let them down before, anyway.

“Sorry,” Andy finally said. “I just thought… though I know by now, everyone’s left but still, if anyone were to find out about this-”

“We wouldn’t want that,” Gary agreed wholeheartedly.

And it seemed as though Andy might say something in response, geared up to do it even, but then his hesitation lingered and the resolve petered out into simply more silence. The moment passed. Instead of answering he only clutched at Gary again, with a deliberate resolution. Hands fisted in the fabric of the other’s shirt, rather than cupping his ass like before.

Pretty sure his dick was flagging, too. Gary had to salvage this fast if he still wanted to hold out any hope for getting off.

Almost robotically he ran through the motions, estimating the right combination of actions needed to still make this work. Carding his fingers through Andy’s hair. A kiss to the forehead. Applying a genuinely compassionate tone to his voice but all the while making sure they stayed close together, should that more physical connection between them spark back to life.

“Hey, you wanna take this into the Beast?” he suggested in a hushed voice. “I could take us somewhere more private, anywhere you wanna go. Plenty of woods and fields for us to take cover.”

“What about your place?”

Gary stiffened - not in the fun way. Just the mere thought of going home to his mum and her boyfriend. With the expectation of their eternally unreciprocated banter as he would bring Andy back to theirs again and they’d disappear upstairs together. And then of course once Andy had made himself scarce, their insufferable playful comments which would follow. The oh so fun stretches of family time he would have to endure as they made their double entendres and exchanged glances and tried to get Gary involved with these inside jokes as though they could all together relate when whatever they had wasn’t anything close to this special thing between him and Andy, and really, who were they to think he wanted to bond with them over that type of shit anyway, as though either of them could ever understand…

Shit, whatever this thing between them was, he barely even could make sense of it himself.

Andy picked up on his complete rejection of that idea, and took his defeat in stride. “Fine. My house, then?”

Gary hesitated. That was hardly any better. 

Sure, if he had to make the choice he would prefer they go to the Knightley’s over his own house any day of the week. But at times it was still hard. He would be spared the tongue in cheek type of joking about their intimate friendship, thank fuck. But their open and natural kindness towards them both often proved harder to shake. As though the Knightleys actually could see and understand the effect they both had on each other, and just approved of it completely. As though he was actually good for Andy. As though they’d want to keep him around as a part of their family for some time to come.

Their patient, friendly and quietly indulgent acceptance of him as though he might belong there, indefinitely, at times made Gary break into a cold sweat.

The more he thought about it, the more complicated and mixed up this thing became.

He better not get too hung up on it. Better to avoid that if at all possible.

“The smokehouse,” he decided at last. It wouldn’t be the most clean or comfortable place for them to go, but they’d get warmed up quickly anyway. And at the very least there would be zero chance of interruptions happening over there.

Andy sighed, and stayed exactly where he was. Gary was starting to run out of ideas as to what else he was supposed to do, then. So he looked the other in the eye, and oh, that was a mistake.

It wasn’t the first time he had seen that particular look on his friend. He’d seen it during more than a couple of their sleepovers. Hidden in the half dark. Andy quietly, secretly looking at him as he practised on the guitar, just the two of them in his room. Or at school, while joking to Pete until he’d forgotten all about some dickhead bullying him. Side by side at the family dinner table and listening to some ancient story they’d both definitely heard before but still didn’t want to interrupt, just happy to be there and to hear it.

Gary didn’t much like seeing it now especially, as they were all alone and either of them might say something they’d come to regret. He had to cut that short, and fast.

“So uh, anyway. Either we’re gonna get this thing going or I am off. I do have other shit to get to, you know.”

And thank God, Andy’s eyes gradually lost that unbearably soft and genuine expression until he was fully back to his normal, teenage self.

“Fine. Fuck the smokehouse, though. I don’t feel like getting an STD from that place.”

“Heyyy don’t worry. You can get one from me right here.”

“Gary, that is not actually-”

“Are we doing this or not?”

Andy sighed in defeat, knowing it would be pointless to argue any further.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Well, come here then.”

And so Gary welcomed him back in his embrace, and their kissing picked up again. He pretended not to notice if this somehow felt different. Slower. More meaningful. Whether it actually was or not, after a few minutes he could clearly feel Andy’s cock grow stiff again all the same.

God, what a relief. Crisis averted. No more worrying about what it all meant. Where it was going. Whether this thing between them actually did mean this much to Andy. Whether Gary wanted it to. The massive responsibility that would come along with that, if this was all for real. Whether he was personally ready or even capable of reciprocating that feeling, or if he would only be bound to disappoint and ruin this for them both.

The kiss grew more heated. Andy moaned into it. Fingers fumbling, Gary unbuckled the other’s belt for easier access. They were seventeen and life felt like one big, exciting rush. He would do anything in his power to keep it that way.

Chapter 10: The Good Companions

Notes:

It's a Friday in October you know what that means! This is special this is their anniversary <3

October - costumes, “boo”. I am taking a more liberal approach to both these prompts.

They were back at the First Post, and back to square zero, so it seemed.

And Andy felt so frustrated about it all because in a way, it felt as though nothing between them had changed, in the best way possible. Even if the pub had been freshly renovated, some of them had started going grey and he now much preferred sticking to his tap water instead of going for a beer, thank you very much. It was clear so much time had passed. Plenty of things had changed. But the five of them were together again to enjoy each other’s company. He had to admit that much at least felt nice.

Except for the one constant thorn in his side.

Gary was eyeing him from across the table. Keeping his thoughts to himself for the time being, though Andy had a sneaking suspicion (with some soundly foundational support: the still remaining knowledge of what his former friend could be like) it would only be a matter of time before he’d make his discontent known. The obnoxiously loud ‘WHAT?!’ at his amending of the initial order had been sufficient proof of his disagreement.

Andy felt more than happy to leave it at that. He was being teetotal. Gary could deal.

Gary should have no influence on his life, anyway.

The only reason Andy had shown up for this outing was in respect of the old times they’d all shared. Especially knowing all the others had agreed to come. It would have felt wrong for him to be the one missing from their one night reunion, even with all that had happened. Also, obviously, he had felt sorry for Gary. The things he had shared about his late mum, the thoughts which had come after. Those last parting words Gary had said to him had been stuck in his mind for days after. The open honesty had left an impression on Andy. Had made him crave more. And sure, at times, he too missed those days before, when he had still felt some sense of a real, human connection to the people close to him.

It wasn’t as though his Friday night was better spent at home, all by himself.

And the funny thing was, he had actually enjoyed real moments of their afternoon so far. The hour spent waiting at the train station. Catching up on where everyone had been, finding the conversation flowing easier as time went on. Listening to the old songs. Getting another glimpse of Newton Haven - their old haunts, things Andy still recognised even beneath the sheen of remodeling and renewal all around them.

He wondered if he’d get the chance to swing by his childhood home at some point.

For now though, he was aching to just have a nice night out. Once more, for old times’ sake.

Again, Gary’s unflinching glare didn’t bode well.

Andy set his teeth. He resigned himself to being the bigger person. He would act like the adult he felt proud to have become. Stoic. Reliable. Unlikely to snap at his peers, however annoying they may be.

He gulped down another good mouthful of his water.

“I don’t believe this.”

Then again. If prodded, he wouldn’t be the one to just back down and take it, either.

Peter looked back nervously as Gary elaborated. At least Oliver was quick to defend him. But Andy was in no mood to beat around the bush. They’d gotten too old for that. He might as well try and cut straight to the root of their problem. Gary had chosen to be on the offense. Fine. Two could play that game.

“You seriously have a problem with me not drinking, after what happened?"

“I don’t,” Gary deflected, as he should have fucking expected, “but King Arthur does.”

The little wink pissed him off most of all, as if anyone would want to be in on his nonsense jokes. Surely not. Not about something like this. Good atmosphere or not, it really had been years since they’d all been together, and they barely even knew each other anymore. Straight off the bat, one of them had been acting way too comfortable. As though he hadn’t been the cause of the massive rift between them all - having first been the social glue, then letting those bonds dissolve as he had grown distant and disappointed every last one of them in one way or another. Yet here he was then, their supposed leader. Seeming eager to assume that title with all the confidence and bravado of his old self, and no common grounds to still be deserving of it.

And so honestly, Andy tuned out most of the ensuing explanation as it pingponged between various members of their clique. Only vaguely taking note of everyone despite themselves slipping back into the easy back and forth, even if it now lacked the warmth and camaraderie of their conversations long before. It really did feel so much like old times in a way.

Yet Gary’s staunch refusal to admit how fucked things had gotten meant this could be nothing like those old times, at all. 

“Exactly! He would’ve had a mead. The King Arthur of beers.”

Andy hated the self assured way in which the man across the table looked right at him then. Why did he behave as though it was a personal insult, Andy’s choice to not join him in this ritual. Was he being fucking for real? Was Gary really choosing this particular hill to die on, knowing full well he’d be standing on some muddy fucking grounds to begin with?

Why should Andy mindlessly follow? Especially when he’d seen the effect drink and drugs could have on a person, and didn’t exactly like the man alcohol could turn him into either.

He again kept his cool. Set out to be the bigger person and access some underlying layer of their conflict instead of letting Gary get sidetracked. He remembered the way he’d approached him at work. He knew there was more to him, an actual human being with some depth and nuance truly wanting to reconnect. Only just below the surface.

“And I’m less of a man because I choose to drink water.”

“Well, it’s a bit ‘ooh ducky’, innit.”

At first, Andy hadn’t even wanted to join. Yet he had come all this way. Let himself be persuaded. For these friendships which had once meant the whole world to him. The times they’d shared. Their former selves, from child to teen to young adult, which no one else would ever get to meet. And yes, even because of Gary, whom he’d felt something more than sorry for when he had so suddenly shown up and gotten right through to him, displaced and beckoning, like a ghost from his past.

But he was feeling less sorry by the minute.

First that long wait which Gary hadn’t even pretended to apologise for. His reckless driving. The discovery that he’d only managed to pay off a decade-long debt by siphoning from others - avoiding his own responsibility, as he did best. The ease with which he’d lied to that officer and made a fool of Peter in the process. His childish antics at their B&B and on the walk over here.

Despite every little annoyance Andy had still gone along with the plan. He’d still been trying to keep things nice, and for what? Only to be criticised barely one stop into this crawl, when Gary should have known he was doing him a massive favour even deigning to be here, and the other had zero grounds to be winding him up like that.

They were not friends.

And he truly did not care for the way Gary kept on taking liberties, acting as if they were.

His funny jabs and smart retorts were anything but. He needed to grow up. And if he didn’t change his behaviour real quick, Andy would show no hesitation in just getting up and walking out without dignifying him with another word. That would be the best case scenario.

As for the worst… He might say or do some things he would come to regret.

So he took another insult in stride. Refrained from pointing out that Gary was as much of a poof as he was, or at least he used to be. But Andy supposed the past was a topic they weren’t allowed to acknowledge this night, even if it was still clinging all around them.

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, Gary, but we are not teenagers anymore. And God forbid you ever have children, because if-”

But again he was interrupted, cut short and dismissed before he could even make his point. They headed down another sidetrack. Andy’s patience was wearing thinner every second. If there hadn’t been a full table’s length between them, he might’ve decked this man already.

There was not much else to do but accept his defeat, and the fact that it would be pointless to argue any further.

His genuine and reasonable arguments dismissed, Andy's dislike for the man opposite him deepened. Was there anything genuine still left about him? Or was it just one mask after another, easy deflections and answers at the ready, as always, never letting anyone get a glimpse of his actual self?

It was frustrating to no end. It was agonising, not being able to get through to the one person who had once meant everything to him.

This man was a complete stranger. They had nothing left in common. Andy thought they’d had a shared and foundational past, a long time ago. But when even that much was being rejected, unacknowledged, glossed over and picked clean in search of only the superficially fun anecdotes, then what else was there left to say. They might as well have replaced Gary and put a hollow facsimile at their table. With no proof of a life lived, no wear and tear, no depth of character. Just shallow entertainment either unable or unwilling to delve deeper into what they desperately needed to clear up.

Understanding this, Andy set out to let go of what was outside his control and make the most of his night. He better just drop the subject altogether. Try to at least somewhat enjoy the time spent with three of his former friends.

“Drink up. Let’s boo boo.”

They would have a long night ahead of them.

Chapter 11: The Hole In The Wall

Notes:

Last Saturday I saw Simon Pegg live in front of my eyes. This Saturday I am posting 4.5k of lovingly created old man yaoi about a character and film which still mean so much to him and his journey towards genuine self acceptance and appreciation for the point he has managed to reach in life. You guys I do not think I'm seeing heaven but it’s literally fine.

November - “Are you sure?”, touch starved

Gary didn’t know what to do.

It had been over a week since Andy had come back home.

Home - to Newton Haven, this address, to Gary, whatever. Had returned to him. Over a week since he had reappeared in his sad excuse of a life, and all of that had happened.

The two of them had not touched since.

But they were getting along. Surviving. Politely sharing a somewhat stable and decent existence together.

Andy had made some additional effort in getting the house cleaned up. Not bothering with rooms like the garage, basement, guest bed, all those additional rooms lacking the company to fill them. He had made the decision to tidy at least his own parents’ bed- and small bathroom for himself, as well as the kitchen and living area. Decorated with posters, plants, and battery operated lights, that lounge especially had quickly turned into a homey and inviting space for them both to spend time. Gary found himself going down there more often as days came and went and he found Andy not objecting to his presence at all.

He supposed it was at least some upside to surviving the apocalypse. It seemed like Andy’s standards for company had dropped to an all time low, making even him acceptable company to be around.

Even if he felt guilty for taking advantage of the fact, he craved whatever closeness he could still get at this point. WIth or without actual bodily contact between them.

 

Surely, though, this standstill could not be meant to last.

Andy knew too much. Had seen too much of his fucked up true self still swarming within.

Even if they didn’t talk about it, the silent knowledge had started making Gary antsy. It would only be a matter of time before things came to a head, as they always tended to do. He would keep on being himself, which inevitably meant annoying Andy increasingly every passing day. Needling, picking away at his resolve to play nice, play house together. Until the precarious construction of niceties would collapse in on itself. Things would finally come to a boil, come to blows, some type (God, how he craved it), any type of physical conflict in which they both said and did things they didn’t mean, and then Andy would feel horrible after, and Gary would choose to run away from it all. That’s how it always went. That’s just what they did.

The knowledge of where they’d be heading made it hard to enjoy the temporary reprieve.

 

The stupid thing was, Gary wished he could stay. Even if things were far from perfect. Even if he was bound to fuck up this precarious truce which had come to exist between the two of them.

But he knew he shouldn’t try to push his luck any longer. He should be the better person for once, and leave before things could come to that. Before Andy remembered how much of a disappointment he really was, always had been, and he would lash out and say everything Gary already knew but deserved to hear still.

He should at least save Andy the hurt of having to actually say those horrible truths.

He was considering these options while lying stretched out on the sofa. DM’s kicked off and discarded on the floor right next to it - the glare he had received that first time meant he knew better now. Andy was just in the next room, cooking lunch for them both. Even with the limited supply of rations, he had made a point to share a hot meal at least once a day. Just another thing Gary wasn’t sure he actually deserved to have, but would greedily take claim anyway.

It was just another reason why he should leave, saving Andy the trouble.

 

He remained lost in thought for an additional few minutes - vaguely entertaining places he might go next, unwilling to settle on any direction just yet as an excuse to maybe postpone his departure for a few precious days more - until Andy finally made his appearance, bowls in hand.

Quickly Gary sat up, creating space for him on the sofa. He was handed a portion of soup, stew, whatever it was - some hearty, chunky and godly smelling cup of warmth delivered to him free of charge.

“Eat up,” was all Andy offered, taking his seat at the far edge of the sofa, the now well established gap between them feeling like another tactile companion in the room.

“Thanks.”

Gary had his first spoonful, and tried not to moan. The food was warm, rich, creamy. Fuck, it hit the spot. This wasn’t like the watery instant soup he’d made himself sometimes as a midnight meal, back at his last inpatient. Even from one mouthful he could tell this had the good stuff, like real onions and potatoes in it. And a bunch of vegetables he couldn’t quite place. His knowledge of healthy food had been murky even before all the world went to shit and it hadn’t improved much since, even if Andy seemed to be trying his best to reintroduce fresh vitamins to his system.

The first time this occurred he hadn’t known how to react to the freely shared food. Andy, gruff, had told him not to think too much of it. Insisted that it was just as easy making a hot meal for one person as it was for two. Easier, if anything: saving on dishes if they were to cook their meals separately. This reasoning fully ignored the fact Gary rarely bothered to even heat up a can before spooning out the contents, if left to his own devices, but he was happy to be invited to share the meal nonetheless.

But the point still remained. It was too kind of him. Gary wasn’t sure he deserved it. Wasn’t sure he should be allowed to even stay here any longer, since Andy had come back and it was still his parents’ house after all, not Gary’s’. But he hadn’t been asked to leave yet. In a weird sense, his former friend seemed content to keep his company. Even if Gary wasn’t mentally all there. Even if he hadn’t repaid Andy for everything he still owed him, and in fact kept racking up his debt with every passing day.

They continued eating in silence.

The few feet of space between them stretched into miles and miles and miles, as though they had fully drifted apart already.

Gary made up his mind. Even if deep down he wanted to, he knew he shouldn’t be allowed to continue leeching off Andy like this. It was wrong of him to do so. He had taken advantage of the other’s hospitality for too long. As always, the time was approaching for him to leave. Lest he overstay his welcome and end things on a sour note - again.

Feeling strengthened by the hot meal, he set the empty dinnerware on the coffee table.

After brief consideration, stalled for just another second. He dragged a finger around the bowl and licked it clean. That slight kick of spice at the end really made the entire meal.

“So,” he started at last.

Andy quirked an eyebrow, but otherwise kept on savouring his own portion of hot stew.

“It's been getting colder every day now.”

“Yup. That tends to happen around this time of year.”

Very funny. Gary pressed on. “So, you know. I probably shouldn’t delay it for too long.”

Andy nodded, still mostly focused on his lunch.

“Glad to hear you’ve come around. I figured I’d wash the dishes first and then sit down with a crossword for a sec, but if you’re up for it we could get rid of the last few weeds, then start covering and protecting the veg patch in full. Fuck knows when the first snow’s gonna fall, but I’d prefer it if we got everything wrapped up and secure over the next few days just to be safe. If we keep a close eye on things we’ll continue having fresh produce even throughout the winter, and then maybe we could reorganise the full layout next spring.”

Gary felt confused for a bit. What? Oh, right. Andy had mentioned wanting to work on the garden. Suggesting it would be good for Gary’s mental health to get him out of the house and busy nurturing something outside himself or whatever.

But none of that mattered now. If he was going to die some time this winter - Gary wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t even make it until his next birthday - he at least wanted to do it someplace where Andy was unlikely to find his body, and feel in any way negatively impacted because of that discovery.

“No, I mean, I shouldn’t postpone leaving. I’d wanna cover at least some distance and find a good place before winter really hits.”

Andy looked at him in confusion, then let his eye travel around the room he had tried his best to make a hospitable and inviting space for them both.

“What are you saying? Why on earth would we leave?”

Gary only looked at him, apologetically. Andy stared back. Then it slowly dawned on him.

It was like a dark cloud descended. Froze and chilled him piece by piece.

Gary prepared for the storm to burst loose. This was predictable. This would make it easier for them both, really.

With slow, controlled movements, Andy placed his own bowl next to Gary’s, safely out of reach. Any moment now.

“And you would be leaving, why?”

Gary shrugged, aimed to play it off cool.

“Well, I think it’s about time. You’ve been good.” Too good, really. “And I’ve also, I mean, I’ve been trying to be good as well. But you probably, you know. Kind of want to go back to normal.”

“Gary,” the other frowned, though he still wasn’t getting angry just yet. “There’s nothing normal about any of this.”

“I know,” came the quick reassurance. “I shouldn’t even be here anyway.”

Shouldn’t have lived beyond that night in October. Shouldn’t have stuck around and invaded Andy’s private space, before being discovered, and after. He had selfishly gotten away with that for too long.

“So, you know,” he finished lamely. “I’ll pack up and go.”

“Christ.” Andy said, as his intent fully sank in. He closed his eyes. Leaned back into the sofa cushions. Breathed the slowest, longest exhale ever as he processed those words.

Gary waited patiently for the outburst he had coming.

He waited.

Waited.

But it failed to arrive. Even if the next few words did come with the slight edge of irritation tingeing Andy’s general tone.

“Sorry, I still fail to understand. What makes you think you need to leave, exactly?”

“Because I, uh, don’t really belong here anymore.”

“Yeah, no shit, Gary. Neither of us really belongs here. It’s our childhood town. Fully blasted into nothing.”

“I know,” the other winced, knowing full well he was responsible for that. “And I’m sorry. But it’s not like I can go back and change that, and it’s not like I’m much good for you in the present, either-”

“You and your fucking need to go back, or to get out of dodge whenever you remember the past isn’t something that can be fixed. God, don’t you ever get tired of it?”

Gary refrained from answering. Andy was growing more than tired of him, anyway. That much was clear as he was now angrily staring right back at him through his mismatched pair of glasses.

“You saw Peter die, and still all you thought of was getting to the next pub for your full reset do-over. You kissed me. And you ran off. I caught up with you and thought I made myself clear, got us both out of there, yet before the sun even rose you just fucking took off again-”

“I didn’t know what else to do, okay?” 

“Well, you could have stayed!”

“And then what? Get more people killed?”

Andy was quick to protest, “The alien robots from outer space are what killed them-”

“But it’s my fault they were here.”

And Gary could tell Andy was properly worked up now and ready to argue with him, but he needed to get his point across and would not let himself be interrupted in doing so.

“I’m the one who asked them to come on my stupid, reckless outing, and, you’re right, wanted for them to stay even when it was clear things weren’t right. Even though they clearly all wanted nothing to do with me even before I destroyed the entire planet, I still insisted on stealing those last few hours of their lives playing pretend, so I could at least have some version of them with me instead of having to be all alone.”

He took a deep breath. Fuck, now he was getting too worked up, too emotional about this whole mess again. Which was just embarrassing for them both. He should just get to the point and get out.

“When the truth is, at any point we still could have gotten back in the car and just left. Even if we’d been drinking. Even if the blanks had been suspicious of us. We still could have at least tried to get away, and then maybe Pete and Ollie, Basil, the Rev, not to mention everyone still living in those towns like ours, people all over the world for all we know…”

“Would have been taken over without even being given the choice? Are you insane?”

“I mean,” Gary admitted, deflating just slightly. “Yeah. Probably.”

Andy squeezed his eyes shut, seeming at a loss as to where he should even begin his counterattack. He breathed in and out through his nose, so aggressively Gary swore it made a slight whistling sound.

“Okay, so, first of all, I am beyond blaming you for things which happened in the past. Firstly, because I would never run out of things to list.”

“Ow, harsh. Though probably fair.”

“Secondly,” the other pressed on, “because I know there’s more to you than your endless list of fuckups. I remember everything you revealed to me - at the World’s End.”

Gary had to look away from him then. He thoroughly regretted having shown that much honesty, that much vulnerability. Even if it had felt good to at last stop bottling it all up, instead let it out and speak the truth to someone who mattered, had deserved to know these things about him more than anyone else in the world. But at that point, he had still been under the assumption that his final hour had struck. He hadn’t expected he’d have to live on and need to actually deal with the repercussions of having shared that much of those ugly parts of himself he’d kept hidden behind carefully constructed walls. Of someone so close to him actually knowing about his deepest insecurities and continuing to be near him in the time after that revelation. It still didn’t feel fully comfortable to him, to share that raw and exposed type of intimacy with someone.

“So I understand you had your own reasoning and point of view. And there was no way you could’ve known the night was going to end that way.”

That much was true. Whether he would’ve made it through the entirety of the crawl or not, Gary had assumed he would’ve been the only person in their group to die within the next twenty four or so hours following. What had happened instead…

“And thirdly, did you forget everything I told you there in turn? It’s not like my life was all that perfect before. I wasn’t exactly eager to go straight back to it.”

Gary shook his head with a wry smile.

“Mate, I remember you saying something different. You seemed pretty set on wanting to fight for your old life, punching your way through a robot to get your wedding ring back and all."

Andy looked down at his hand in vague surprise, as though he had forgotten he was still wearing the piece of jewelry at all.

Silence then descended on them both. Even if arguing came to them like second nature, this was something the other man had no direct reply to. He needed to process his thoughts for a bit. The way he had felt, back in that final pub. The hours leading up to that moment. And everything which had occurred in the time that had passed since then, during which he had finally found himself back here, in the ruins of the past.

Gary sat there, waiting. Absolutely bursting at the seams to keep talking, that impulse only being held back by his genuine curiosity for his friend’s motivation in all this.

“It’s true,” Andy finally admitted, still looking down thoughtfully at the ring on his finger. “The thought of getting to her and the kids dragged me through that night. I hoped I might still save that bit of myself I had accomplished in life. It still seemed like something worth saving.”

The look in his eyes turned glassy as he seemed lost in memory for a moment or two. Recollecting images from before or after the intergalactic confrontation, Gary had no way of knowing.

“So I got started on my way back to London. Walking, I might add, since Sam’s Ford Fiesta had mysteriously disappeared come morning.”

Gary looked towards the corner of the room to avoid his accusing glare until he felt like it had softened.

“But I don’t know. Barely a few miles in, my resolve already started wavering. I don’t know what it was that finally did it. Seeing the remains of the initial destruction, or everything which had survived the blast: the green, the houses, the scattered groups of people already beginning to meet up and help rebuild whatever they could salvage. Walking down the road and really taking it all in… was the first time in a long time I truly felt free.”

Andy shook his head.

“And I don’t know. I started reconsidering. Even if everything on the night of the Mile hadn’t happened the way it did, I am not sure there really was much for me to still return to. Everything about my life in London just didn’t seem to matter as much in the grand scheme of things. And though, again, I don’t want to stay angry or keep holding you responsible for things which happened a long time ago, I still felt as though maybe I had left something unresolved concerning us. So I turned around and walked back to Newton Haven. Where sure enough, I found you.”

 Gary still couldn’t bear looking at him. He swallowed.

“Yeah. So uh, I hope seeing me gave you all the closure you needed.”

Andy didn’t react, except with a barely audible, noncommittal sound.

“And I’m glad we got to sort that out, but, y’know, there’s not much left I can do for you now. If I really am forgiven and all. Have always been kind of shit at making amends anyway. But um, I’m sorry your life got fucked. Do hope you’re feeling better about it. But if there’s nothing else I can really mean to you now, I should just own up to what needs to happen and get out of your hair.”

“Again,” Andy replied, and his irritation seemed to flare anew, “I fail to see your logic.”

 “Oh,” the other was quick to reassure, “though I can still give you the blowie I owe you before I head out.”

The irritation swiftly morphed into baffled confusion. Andy blinked a few times, struggling to keep up. “The what?”

“Blowie. From that one time? We never did get around to it.”

Andy then looked at him with a horrified frown. Gary processed the look on his face and decided he had to agree.

“... Fine then, to be fair, with the way you’ve been taking care of me in the time since you probably deserve to stick it up my ass. And hey, I got no problem with that, fair is fair.”

Andy stammered for a few moments, not able to utter anything more than halted half-sounds before finally settling on: “Are you completely fucked in the head?”

Gary wasn’t sure how to answer. Because obviously, yes. He thought they had well established that. How was there still any confusion on that front.

Andy leaned in, enunciating his words clearly.

“You do not owe me any type of sex, okay. Is that what you thought?”

“I mean, just to help you blow off steam. Steam which is only there ‘cause of the trouble I caused.”

The other frowned in complete confusion.

“So I should get to fuck you up the ass because it’s transactional?”

“Well, why else would you do it?”

Again Andy had no quick retort. He only sputtered, then turned beet red.

Not because of anger. Now that Gary would have recognised all too well. No, there was a different kind of emotion hidden behind this response. Though which one, he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“... Andy?”

He tried to read the other’s face, but Andy turned away from him abruptly. Even without physically shrinking in on himself, suddenly he seemed small. Affected, maybe slightly embarrassed. So much like his teen or even preteen self.

“... Oh.”

“Just shut up.”

“Ooohhh. Okay. When you said you wanted to return to me, instead of finding your wife, having something unresolved concerning us, you actually meant-?”

“It didn’t mean anything to you,” Andy groaned, sounding as though he was ready to be swallowed up by the ground below, never to resurface. “I should have remembered, what with how casually you used to talk about Sam or the twins-”

“You still had a thing for me? After all that time?!”

“Oh, not all that time, you prick,” Andy countered, and some of that well known fire returned to him now as he whipped his head back around, ready to bicker. “I am not some lovestruck sap of a man who never got over the amazing Gary King, yeah, obviously I moved on and built a whole life independent of all that. But like, fine, maybe you deciding to just show up like a ghost from my past, talking all that nonsense of the boys being like brothers but me being the best friend you ever had, reminding me of the bond we had, and then everything which happened and got us so much closer together while trying to escape death with you, oh god forbid, what if that actually did have some kind of impact on me, reopening old wounds and with it all the bad but also the incomparable good things we had,”

He rambled on for a few more syllables, but Gary could barely even parse the words. His heart was about to beat out of his chest. He felt his mouth curl into a wide smile. Andy liked him. Andy did actually like him. And not just because they might fuck.

Gary launched himself across the space and knocked himself into Andy, crushing him with a tight hug. Even as they toppled over and Andy yelped in surprise, he didn’t let go.

He only kept his arms wrapped tight around his friend, and laughed incredulously as he felt Andy’s arms come up to hold him in return.

“You mean it?” he babbled, before Andy could throw up a word of protest. “Are you sure? You actually do care about me and all?”

The other murmured his reply from where his face was still crushed into Gary’s chest.

“Of course, you fucking prick. I always have.”

“Whether I suck your cock or not?”

“I told you,” Andy piped up, struggling free just enough so he could lean back and look Gary in the eye as he assured him this. “The past is not a debt I am out to collect. I am ready to leave that where it is. Just appreciate that it’s nice to see your face, now. I was hoping to seek you out because yeah, I care about your stupid ass… and to be honest, I figured you’d be too stupid to survive on your own, and I didn’t like the thought of that.”

Gary happily glossed over the insult and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You looove me.”

“Shut up.”

“You didn’t want to live withooouuut me.”

Andy still held on to him. “Would you prefer we be apart?”

It was something Gary barely had to think about. Even if they felt a bit clumsy about this, their bodies having changed so much in the time between and both of them still trying to reconfigure how they fit, it seemed as though nothing much between them had changed at all. Nothing which really mattered, anyway. He was happy to discover that being safely held in Andy's arms still felt like home. More than anything else here ever had or ever would. Maybe that had been what Gary had hoped to find here from the very beginning, long before blue blood, detachable limbs and the sobering confrontation with his personal disappointment had been a thing.

He had missed this feeling so much. He would be a fool to walk away again, when he was allowed, no, when Andy so clearly and genuinely wanted him to stay. When they actually wanted to spend this time together, for real.

“No,” he felt able and free to admit, carefully letting some of his walls down. “No, I’d like to stay. If you don’t mind, I would really like to stay this time around.”

Andy hugged him even tighter in response, signalling his relief in not having to let the other man go.

It felt strange for them to end up here. Yet it felt like the most natural conclusion possible, coming full circle in a sense. Having met up again with fate by coming home to the person Gary was always meant to rekindle things with. Or rather escaping fate by making a healthy decision, choosing a different path than the one he had been hurtling himself down for such a long time.

It felt like being scared. Or less scared because at least now there was Andy who fully understood things, to share the burden and help carry it. Or no, that was more scary after all, because that meant more was at stake than just his own safety and well being, which Gary had never really put much care into anyway.

He could not imagine making it through a world wide cataclysm with anyone else. He still wasn’t sure if he could hope for a better future just yet - still half expecting some other shoe to drop, for additional consequences of his actions to catch up to him even if it seemed like a period of peace had settled with the departure of the blanks…

But at least he could hope for a better present, which was all he really needed for now.

Chapter 12: The World's End

Notes:

December - bathing together

I’m gonna keep it real with you. I looooove the idea of bathing together. Oh to be naked and vulnerable yet comfortably trusting and to easily, self-evidently assist one another in upkeeping basic tedious maintenance of personal health and wellbeing, in a shared act of genuine caretaking without any personal gain or sexual motive to be satisfied. UHHHH basically fuck me up

Andy never thought he’d be doing this. Surely not at this point in life. With this person. In this place.

The uncoordinated fingers dancing across his scalp failed to distract him from the job at hand.

But yeah, here he was. In his early forties, having survived an apocalypse, half dressed and sucking dick in what once used to be his parents’ bed.

(Doing a damn good job of it, too, judging by the sounds coming from his partner.)

He presumed it was his and Gary’s bed now. Which had been only a matter of time, really. They had long outgrown the one from his childhood. Both fucking and sleeping tended to go a whole lot smoother when two grown men had the space permitting them to engage in those activities.

Actually sleeping together at night was something they were still getting used to. Gary was a blanket hogger, and the now near freezing temperatures didn’t aid much in trying to prevent this proclivity. He also took to sleeping in the middle of the mattress, he snored, and had smacked or prodded Andy more than a couple times since they’d started sharing the bed.

But the nightmares were waning. He didn’t seem as perpetually tired anymore. And Andy had to admit that even if his sleep often went interrupted, he wouldn’t wish to change this for the world. He would never admit to it, but some secret lonely part of him had always missed Gary’s company. Both the good and bad of it all. With the two of them reunited, it felt as though something vitally important in his life had realigned itself at last.

Now, the sex also took some getting used to.

Specifically it not being just an exchange of favours, of complying, submitting to some other person’s wants. Rather getting reacquainted with the way it once used to be between them. A mutual exploration, giving and receiving and enjoyment of sharing in the act itself, without either of them keeping some mental score to be evened in due time.

His hand softly touched the outside of Gary’s leg, which earned a slight flinch in return. Andy touched his palm to the skin more securely and felt the other relax into it.

Most of his attention still remained on Gary’s cock, of course. Even without set expectations, he still wanted to make this feel right, make it good for the other man. But always he remained aware of the restrictions he needed to respect in order to keep the experience a positive for them both.

Touching Gary’s dick and balls? Always welcome. Ass cheeks? Fine. Down and between them - it would depend. Then venturing from those regions across his lower stomach, abdomen, chest and shoulders, all of that was still perfectly allowed. From about halfway down his arms is where matters got a bit more complicated. Hands were fine, again, if Andy didn’t push into the mushy romantic territory too hard.

(It had really hurt his feelings about two weeks back, when Gary had let slip a snide comment about him childishly holding hands all the time. Andy had withdrawn his hand instantly and held his tongue, feeling caught, reprehended, and unable to respond for some time.)

The occasional glimpse had revealed part of his legs to be equally scarred. And even if both the physical and emotional bond between them had improved, Andy no longer pushed the issue when he suspected there were fresh cuts in the mess of white, pink, purple, red. He only respectfully stuck to the zones he was allowed to caress and didn’t push for further admittance.

He skimmed his digits through Gary’s pubes, scratched at him lightly. Tugged, teased. Quickly bobbed his head down until he felt the touch at the back of his throat and let off again slowly.

The other laughed, moaned, babbled something Andy didn’t quite catch. But he sounded happy enough, which served as a reassurance to both.

Something worth rewarding without any hesitation.

Andy would’ve smirked if he hadn’t still had a mouthful of cock.

He held on a moment to brace himself. Then took the other down in full and slurped.

“Ogh, JESUS!” Gary yelped, curling in on himself with a jolt. But urging his friend to continue on, instantly grasping at Andy’s hair again, who started sucking harder, moving up and down his length in a torturously slow and steady rhythm.

He had known that’d do the trick. Just hard, deep, and straight to the point. It would be done in under a minute flat at this rate. Gary’s tastes were simple enough. And to be fair, even before the global cataclysm, it had been a while since either of them had been intimate with another person.

Every aspect of their physical intimacy still took some getting used to, but at least Andy could rest easy knowing the exploration was a shared process they were both enjoying a whole lot.

“Fuuuuck…”

He grabbed harder onto Gary’s thighs. Held him in place and kept sucking.

“Fuuck, fuck fuck,”

The other’s hips started pumping as Andy coaxed him increasingly closer to orgasm. They were on the right track. He felt strangely proud of his private knowledge of the other man - based on both what he remembered from their long gone former trysts and the newly discovered intimate workings.

“Mmm. Fuck. Ohh off. Off off off.”

That was a surprise. WIth some regret, Andy released the other’s dick from his mouth and let up. He could barely form a sentence before Gary grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and started pulling with some urgency. He had no choice but to let himself be half-dragged on top of the other man, but it was a lead he was more than happy to follow.

“Do you want t-”

Once at face height Gary pulled him down again to crush his lips against Andy’s, in a kiss so violent the other almost lost his balance because of it. Gary near devoured him in thanks for the attention lavished. The added close, almost loving contact was something they both relished for as long as they could stand.

“Hah,” Andy gasped, when his face was finally released again, “so I take it you-”

“Shhh, shut up,” Gary interrupted, one hand snaking down to stroke himself, the other again firmly finding purchase at the back of Andy's skull and pushing, manoeuvring him down towards his throat. 

Again, Andy knew the other well enough to infer his needs and intentions, whether his partner could manage to put them into actual words or not.

So with clear purpose he mouthed at the spot below his ear, then moved along the side of his neck, as far down as both the other’s shirt collar and the insistently commandeering hand on his head would allow. He suckled, licked, scraped some teeth, and held himself steady above Gary as a warm, solid body for the other to rock himself into as he jerked himself off.

“Ogh, fuuuck, Andy,” the man below moaned. Again, Andy had the confirmation they were getting ridiculously close. And again, he knew the exact thing that would help push the other over the edge.

His tongue trailed its way back up to Gary’s ear - earning a full body ripple of pleasure at the delicate touch - and gathering his courage, Andy figured now was as good a time and place as any to say it.

“Come, Gaz. I got you. Christ, you’re hot... Yeah, just like that. Let go, I got you. Will never let you go again. I wanna…”

The other came, exclaiming loudly before anything more could be confessed. Andy let himself be tugged closer, face nuzzled up against the steadily hammering pulse of his partner’s throat.

Even if he had hoped differently, he had suspected for this, too, to be a part of it. The intimacy of actual eye contact in these moments was still a bridge too far. For now, anyway.

Andy had just enough space to only kiss the warm skin right in front of him, though he doubted Gary would really notice his doing so as he rode out his orgasm.

Still, he felt more than satisfied with the process they had made in the time they’d been able to spend together. To share and relish even this much was already an incredible feat.

And he’d given Gary some physical rest. Any remaining tension was released from them both as they stayed pressed together - with plenty of bed space to spread out, but choosing to stay tangled as they caught their breath. Again, Andy could only applaud them both for the progress they had made. It sure beat arguing. Both for the benefit of stress relief and their relational growth.

They basked in the afterglow for another few minutes. Another benefit to the end of the world as they had known it: it had eliminated all the useless attachments and responsibilities from before. In a previous life Andy would’ve felt the need to get up quick and shower, dress himself, get ready for work, or otherwise go to sleep as soon as possible in preparation of another hectic day to come. Fuck knows what Gary used to do after. Well, the other had told him some of it. Exactly how fucked up his life had gotten, including his relationships, five, ten, twenty years ago.

None of that mattered. Now it was only the two of them in this room, which just as well could be the entire world. No other obligations. No rush. No need, or desire to part anytime soon.

A hot bath did seem rather tempting, though.

Gary’s hand was still at the back of his head. With the other’s needs fully satisfied, he was no longer hanging onto Andy with an almost painful grip. Now, idle fingers twirled his hair in a shared and comfortable silence. It felt soothing. Again, Andy didn’t mind lingering in the moment for just another minute longer. He wouldn’t mind falling asleep like this.

But Gary’s mind had always been more restless than his. Some things truly didn’t ever change at all. Andy at the very least felt pleased in having accomplished some peace and quiet for them both to savour, however brief it may have lasted. Even if not much was said about it, the sense of gratitude for that was clearly felt.

But still not one to linger and in need of fresh stimuli, Gary now squeezed his shoulder. Tried to spur his partner back into action, having sufficiently rested to move on to the next order of business.

“So. That was great. I do you next, or like, what are we thinking?”

“Mmm,” Andy considered the offer, trying to gauge the current state of his body. Had Gary made the proposal maybe five to ten minutes ago, he would’ve agreed to that plan without a second thought. But having shared in this gratified, satisfied cooldown period with him and reached this genuinely grounded sense of calm…

“I’m good, actually. Don’t really feel like getting back into it again. Maybe tomorrow.”

Still plastered together as though they were the last two people left on earth, he more felt than saw Gary shrug at his reply.

“Suit yourself. If that was enough for you…”

“Hmm. Was plenty.”

They returned to silence. If it felt uncomfortable, it had less to do with what Andy had said than with Gary’s insecurity as to how he should respond to his relaxed and semi-sentimental openness. And again, the both of them were still testing the edges of that relationship, getting readjusted with this bond between them and what that exactly might mean.

He felt Gary press a quick kiss onto the top of his head and knew better than to say anything about it. Even acknowledging how much they meant to each other, were growing to mean to each other with every passing day, was still a bit daunting to admit for either.

So Andy tempered his own surging heart at the minor sign of affection, and tried to keep his cool.

“We should probably clean up at some point, here.”

“Hmm,” Gary considered. “Tub?”

“It’s like you’ve read my mind.”

 

It took him more than a few minutes to draw the bath. Even if the Network’s final pulse hadn’t wiped out the actual water supply, it had definitely fucked up the boiler in some capacity. Andy didn’t mind much. He knew being submerged in hot water would be well worth the effort as well as the wait. 

In preparation thereof, Gary was nowhere to be seen. Andy let him stay in bed for just a while longer. A former version of himself might’ve felt irritated at the lack of meaningful input coming from the other man. The current version of Andy only felt a mild but well earned pride at his own accomplishment in having tired the man out for a bit, and much happiness for his partner taking the time to fully savour the sensation of being so thoroughly worn out. 

He could even appreciate how funny it was, to see Gary appear at the edge of the door frame the very second he stopped the water flow and the bath was drawn. Of course. He should’ve expected that the other would make himself known only at the opportune moment, and not a moment sooner.

“So I get to go first, yeah?”

Gary didn’t wait for a response and slipped by the other man, now fully focused on the tub ahead. Andy didn’t quite manage to contain his own mirth at his typical behaviour.

“Is that right? And who decided on that, then.”

“Me,” Gary said simply.

Again, Andy couldn’t contain his own laugh. “I put in the effort of getting you off and then got the tub all prepped. Look, I even got us the foam and everything. Surely I should get to enjoy that right now.”

“Don’t see anyone stopping you,” Gary replied, trying to sound casual as he took off his shirt.

Andy paused, not sure if he had understood him right.

Gary remained facing away from him as he finished undressing - another sensitive line neither of them felt quite ready yet to cross - then stepped over the rim of the tub and lowered himself down, hesitating slightly but finding the temperature on just the right side of comfortable which allowed for him to relax into it.

Not leaning back, however, to stretch out across the full length of the tub. Instead he edged forward a tad towards the plug, letting some of the water back out to lower the level.

Andy stood still in place until Gary shot a furtive glance over his shoulder. Waiting. Some of the bravado slipping when realising he wasn’t being met halfway here.

Oh. Right. Okay.

Guess they were breaking new ground, after all.

Andy was eager and grateful to be allowed any of it.

Gary turned again to face forward and Andy stripped himself of his clothing as quickly as he could. He dropped everything on the floor along with Gary's things. Once fully naked, gingerly he approached.

His partner had grabbed a washcloth, then turned sideways to grab the soap from the side. Andy caught a tantalising flash of his tattoo. Still avoiding eye contact, Gary started lathering up. 

With the confirmation that neither of them would be backing out of this, he carefully stepped into the warm water and settled himself in the freed up space behind the other man.

Who released a quiet breath, relaxed his shoulders, and set on washing himself clean after the exertion from before.

Andy, too, released a breath he wasn’t fully conscious he’d been holding, and picked up a washcloth and soap to clean himself, too. All the while keeping an eye on Gary and all he had been invited to see of him - a dark head of hair, the pale skin of his ears, neck, shoulders, the expanse of his back until it disappeared between the ample bubbles of the summer fruits scented foam they’d scavenged some time ago.

Open and unguarded. Sharing his time and space even in this most mundane of tasks. As though it was only natural for them both to do so. To share in this, be seen like this. The occasional glimpse of the side of his face, even if his actual expression was still unreadable. His gestures. His open palms. The marks on his forearms, both the old and the slightly more recent. Suds slowly glided down over all the exposed skin, their trails pure and clean.

Andy had to steel himself to stay focused on simply washing himself and respectfully staying within his own space. They were still growing used to this. Testing how to be vulnerable in front of each other, emotionally, physically, to be reacquainted in this capacity not only to another person which would be hard enough as is - but with this other person, specifically. WIth them, two people, two long time friends trying to strengthen and rebuild the connection which in some sense had never stopped existing between them.

Andy wanted to reach out again. He wanted to drown in the contact. He also didn’t want to rush into things and risk an averse reaction from someone not used to being handled with care.

But Gary trusted him. This much was plain to see.

He didn’t even have to read the other’s face to know it.

“Can you get my back?”

“Huh?”

Gary half turned towards him to repeat the question.

“If you could get my back. Unless we got one of them fucking, sponge things on a stick.”

“A loofah.”

Gary shot him a look. Andy merely shot one back.

Even if the first gut response to make a crude joke was still there, having freshly been fucked by another man at least tempered that impulse and dialled it down to only a knowing look. Small progress, Andy supposed.

“Sure. Can’t have you all dirty now, can we.”

Gary waited patiently as he rubbed more soap into the washcloth. Then, just to make sure he was genuinely up for this, Andy put a steadying hand on the other man’s shoulder - who leaned into the contact, could not contain a gentle hum.

Andy took his sweet time getting his partner clean. His back was one of the safe zones. He was glad they got to do this. To give and receive. And share more time together all the same.

Gary’s back hadn’t even been particularly grimed up or sweaty. Still he tended to the other with delicate care, rubbing small circles, washing him clean.

Feeling dutiful but kinda reverent about it.

And noting with some relief that Gary seemed to have gained some weight again. He didn’t look or feel quite as haggard and scrawny as he had some time before. It was a possibility he only seemed that way because of his improved posture. But his ribs seemed to have at least a bit more padding to protect them now, shoulders less bony and defined, collarbone…

Andy limited his discreet inspection to only that strictly permitted zone of the other’s back. Again, better not push those limits and risk another setback. Though there were some things he might still be allowed.

“Do your hair, as well?”

“Uhh,” Gary reacted, seeming unsure on how to respond at first. “Yeah. Yeah, why not.”

“Back a lil.”

The other obediently tilted his head back - if only he could always be this compliant, Andy internally sighed - and they continued on with more of the soft maintenance. He poured some shampoo in his hand, set the bottle aside, and worked the product into Gary’s hair.

As his fingers rubbed soothing circles, Andy felt the other man grow increasingly relaxed. Shoulders sagging, breathing becoming deep and even, head slightly giving with the back and forward motion of the thorough scalp massage.

Andy just enjoyed the quiet. Again feeling happy and accomplished this was granting them both some peace of mind.

His thoughts began to wander.

Gary’s birthday would be coming up soon. He should bake him a cake. Way in the back of the hallway cupboard, where his parents used to hide presents when he was little, Andy had stored the box of ready mix which miraculously hadn’t yet expired. He knew Gary couldn’t be bothered to look. That was the main part out of the way. And their chickens had started laying eggs regularly now, so if he could just scavenge a small supply of milk, maybe chocolate chips, nuts, fresh raspberries…

One massive benefit to most of Newton Haven having been robots before the time of the wipeout meant their surroundings were mostly deserted, with all the resources the former occupants had saved as part of the play acting now at their own private disposal. No stores emptied, no homes all plundered. The blast and ensuing fires in the fallout had destroyed a good third of the buildings around. Which left plenty of sites for the two lone inhabitants of the town to make use of as they pleased.

As for further birthday gifts, Andy hadn’t yet made up his mind. As to whether he should hand Gary some object to have, handmade or found. Or rather do something for him, like take a week of chores off his hands, give him a lap dance, or a massage much like this.

He returned to the present time and place. Noting something was off.

The man who had been on his mind didn’t seem to be enjoying the head washing any longer. His posture had slackened a little. Breaths coming as a sharp in- and shaky exhale, even if he seemed to try his best to suppress it. But there was no way Gary could hide the truth in such close proximity. He was crying.

Andy wasn’t sure how to respond. His fingers slowed to a halt as he cleared his throat.

“Uh. Soap got into your eyes, Gary?”

The other only made some noise of disagreement, shaking his head, not offering any further explanation. Which was fine. Andy wouldn’t push. He only grabbed a cup from the edge of the tub, filled it with water, and poured it out over Gary’s head, directing the flow through his hair to rinse it out. He repeated the act a few more times in patient silence.

“Just...” the words were strained, fighting their way out. “Reminds me of long ago. My mum. Used to do this for me.”

Andy waited patiently. He could imagine. Growing up, it had been much the same for him. His parents constantly caring for him and his well-being. Showing their love through small attentive gestures, words and deeds. Keeping him safe. Looking out for his best interests, making him feel sheltered and secure and supported unconditionally, even if the world seemed so massive and frightening at times.

Gary sounded small making the confession. “I hope she’s alright.”

The other hummed. Rinsed out the final suds with gentle care. Tried to keep some balance navigating a deeper conversation without it weighing too heavily on them both.

“I hope so too. The world’s rough as it is, but especially if you’ve died of cancer before.”

The other groaned, but had nowhere to go and hide.

“Yeah…” he shamefully admitted. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said all of that.”

“You really shouldn’t have.”

“But I didn’t think otherwise you’d come.”

“Wel, I probably wouldn’t have,” Andy was ready to admit. “But I am here now. And I’m staying.”

Gary laughed a weak, wet chuckle. He folded his arms against his chest.

“Yeah. Me too, I guess.”

Andy emptied another cup of water over the other’s back. His friend hummed in appreciation.

“That feels nice. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. And. Well, mate, you know. She’s probably hoping the same for you. That you’re alright, I mean.”

The other slightly turned his head at that.

Andy clarified: “Last time I spoke with her - that night, right before we followed you into the bathroom and it all went tits up, she was worried, and annoyed, and surprised to hear you were in Newton Haven hanging out with us four of all people.”

Gary turned to face him head on, eager to hear more. So Andy continued speaking from the heart.

“But I don't know, most of all she seemed relieved. That you weren’t alone. Just trying to have a nice night out. Even if we knew it was all wrong... I think she sounded happy to know you were among people you could trust. And she was looking forward to hearing back from you later on how that all went.”

Gary shook his head and grimaced.

“I was never gonna call her. Things had gotten too fucked, even before all this. And now, there’s no way for me to reach her anyway.”

Andy put a hand on his shoulder and hoped it would convey everything he meant to express but couldn’t fully put into words just yet.

“You hadn’t then. You don’t need to now. Look, I know wherever she is, she’s still wishing you the best no matter what.”

The water sloshed as Gary got on his hands and knees and crawled his way over to Andy to half hug, half lie on top of him in sudden need for contact. Andy could only try his best to catch the other in the sudden lunge without dunking himself under water completely. They managed to arrange the tangle of limbs into more or less of a comfortable position even in the cramped space of the tub and then rested there for a few long but much needed moments.

“I really fucked things up, man," Gary admitted in a tired voice. "Before that night, during, after.”

Andy relived a few flashbacks of his own. Getting his heart broken at college age. Being too proud and guarded to allow Gary a second chance as time went on. Not in their twenties. Thirties. Forties. Being nothing but hostile during that do-over of the Mile. Prejudiced, shielding himself from the other to avoid more disappointment. Choosing to stay closed off emotionally. Giving back snide jabs. Getting progressively more aggressive as the night wore on. Shoving, attacking, hitting. Threatening to hurt him, badly, and meaning every word of it.

But that was all in the past. They had survived and surpassed all of that and ended up here, at this very moment.

“We all did. Still, I’d rather have you here with me than some pristine, uncanny robot version of you.”

Gary nodded solemnly. “Because then you’d get electrocuted.”

“Because then I’d get electrocuted,” Andy agreed, and kissed him on the top of his head.

Gary wordlessly, but deliberately hugged him tight in return.

They both stayed there until the water cooled to room temperature and Andy's back began to ache. Neither really seemed to mind getting up. They knew there’d be more quality time to share. At least they had spent these moments becoming more of a supportive home to one another. Such were the privileges of getting to grow old together with a long lost other half.

Notes:

And that’s where we leave the guys for now, with one final pub and matching final chapter still to follow… but as we reach the end of the year and more specifically the year of the otp, I just wanted to enjoy having rounded off this challenge and see it completed for now. The short epilogue will come at the appropriate time. Happy holidays to all. I am still so amazed and relieved this challenge prompted me to write for these two characters. I’d had many thoughts about them beforehand, and it felt gratifying to finally commit these all to writing to be kept and revised whenever. I’ve had a great time playing around with these characters, stretching canon and adding my own view to their preexisting dynamic. Hope you’ve enjoyed reading along with me. Would love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for staying in this little corner of the internet and of the world with me.