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Warning: Contains Boys Love and vulgar language.

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Chapter 12: Carefree Burdens (Part B)



Muffin had been meowing for a good ten minutes. Just sitting at his feet, looking up, down, around, then back up again. Golden eyes flashed in the dim evening light, while long cinnamon fur trapped the light all along its back, haloing its small body. Her small mouth opened. Out came another meow.

“I just fed you.”

Muffin meowed again.

“Greedy cat…” Elliot watched her curl around his ankle and rub her head against his calf. “Don’t think that sucking up is going to work, because it doesn’t.” Muffin blinked her yellow eyes at him lazily, then stretched luxuriously before releasing another low meow. Elliot rolled his eyes. Muffin was as tenacious as she was gluttonous. It was amazing that she wasn’t a huge, rolling ball of fat. With fur.

For the twenty-sixth time since Elliot got home, he checked the clock. Only four-fifty. Damn. He was anxious—albeit a little apprehensive—about going to Cameron’s. He couldn’t leave too soon, but he couldn’t leave too late, either. Timing was everything.

In five minutes, he reasoned. I’ll leave in five minutes.

…What could he do in five minutes?

Everything was already done for the day. Muffin had been fed, the house was clean, and he had no homework for the night—aside from some reviewing needed for an upcoming test.

There was, quite literally, nothing to do.

Odd.

There was always something. Something work related. Last year he’d had a job, but when his senior year had started, he’d resigned, as he wanted to get the highest marks possible without any distractions. Of course, such a thing seemed absurd now when he was relaxing on the couch, watching the clock with a sly intensity that’d put even Muffin to shame.

With his parents away on business trips—or God knows what else—the house was quiet.

Too quiet.

“Fuck it,” Elliot mumbled as he got up from the couch, startling Muffin out of her languid state. “I’m leaving now.” With that said, he grabbed his car keys, tied on his shoes, and locked the front door behind him.

The drive hadn’t really been all that long. When Elliot had looked at the address again, the paper already wrinkled and crinkled around the edges, he faintly recognized the address until it occurred to him that Cameron lived on the same street as Elena. Next door, if his memory of childhood birthday parties served him well.

After a couple of radio changes and a few turns, Elliot arrived on the street. He slowed his car as he neared the designated number. He took one final glance at the address, then back out the window. This was the place. He parked his car in front of a tall, white house, complete with a wooden front porch and a very well-kept front lawn. It was a very well looked after house, but so were the rest of the houses along, and parallel, to it. Appearances here were everything.

Elliot listened to his engine die with a final groan. Then with a quick turn of his key, he pulled them from the ignition. He took a deep breath. He could do this, he really could.

He walked up along the assorted stone pathway to the doorway, his warm fingers flexing at his side and his feet nearly faltering. Up the stairs, the wood thumping underneath his feet. He stopped just outside the door, staring at the crystal-like arrangement of glass for the diamond shaped window, distorting the image of the inside.

A deep inhale. Elliot raised a finger to press the doorbell, his lungs holding its intake of air prisoner.

The door swung open before his finger could touch the doorbell, and Elliot nearly jumped out his own skin.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” an older man apologized, looking down to meet Elliot’s eyes respectfully. Elliot just stared up at the man, marveling of the stranger’s height. He was clad in a black suit, complete with a white-collard dress shirt and tie. The man's dark hair fell over his forehead in light waves, but couldn’t hide the twinkle of his dark eyes, or the delightful crinkle of skin around his eyes and mouth when the older man smiled apologetically. Even his low, rumbling voice sounded friendly. “Hello, are you looking for someone?”

“Dad! You forgot your brief case again!” A female voice called from behind the older male. When the female appeared into sight, Elliot’s eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. There was definitely something more than just familiar about the girl. Her shoulder-length and layered hair was a light brown with a tint of orange. Dotted across her face and bare arms were tiny freckles. Only after a more studious look did Elliot realize that her expression held no optimism. Only a mature suspicion as she stared back at Elliot, one eyebrow rising until it nearly disappeared underneath her side-bangs.

“Thank you, honey,” the older man replied, accepting the brief case from the girl. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, sweetheart. Well, I gotta get going now. I’ll see you and Cameron in the morning. Make sure that Morty goes home at a decent hour, all right?” The man moved to the side and tipped his officer hat at Elliot as he walked by. “Good day, sir.”

Elliot mumbled a bye, still gawking at the girl who stood inside the house, who wore a light blue tank top and a pair of denim shorts. Her arms were crossed over her prominent bosom, and one of her bare feet tapped repeatedly on the carpeted floor. She looked so much like Cameron that they could almost be twins…aside from the different hair and eye colour, the roundness to her face, her natural curves, and that expression…nothing looked gullible or naïve about that expression.

The girl turned and unabashedly shouted, “Cameron! Get your ass down here!”

For a brief moment there was nothing, then a loud series of thuds stampeded over the momentary silence, just as they did as they thundered loudly over what Elliot guessed were stairs. As a grand finale, there was a loud crash at the end, followed by a loud yelp.

Elliot backed away a step. Maybe if he just turned around and left…

But two teenagers appeared at the end of the hallway, panting and looking disheveled. One was Cameron, dressed in a simple black T-shirt and a pair of jeans, and the other was a male that Elliot didn’t quite recognize, but his dark eyes and matching hair with the faded green dye caught his eye, which somehow matched his dark grey long-sleeved shirt and black jeans. Who was he?

“Elliot!” Cameron shouted. “Come on in!” While Elliot debated over whether or not he wanted to anymore, he noticed the freckled boy shove the other playfully to the side. “Later loser.”

The jet haired boy stuck his tongue out at Cameron. “Bye, fire crotch.”

Cameron cast the boy a glance but in the end just shook his head and laughed it off.

Yeah, maybe if I leave, Elliot thought, with one foot already turning, ready to drag the rest of his body with it. He couldn’t help but feel a little strange in his own skin when he looked into Cameron’s house. It seemed like a whole other world. And how could the girl’s staring at him not be considered intimidating in some way?

He couldn’t turn back, though. Cameron was already at the doorway, standing and waiting for him. With one moment’s mental preparation, Elliot stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He leaned down to take off his shoes, but as he did so, he noticed the girl still studying him with wary eyes. It was nothing like how Alison studied him. It wasn’t observant. It was distrustful.

“Who’re you?” she asked, her voice straight and unwavering.

He met her steady gaze. “Elliot.”

“He’s a friend,” Cameron explained, smiling warmly at the girl. Elliot paused with untying his last shoe when he finally saw the two side by side, a little awed by the sight. They really did look a lot alike.

“A friend?” The girl’s mouth hardened. “How come you’ve never mentioned him before?”

Cameron laughed. He placed a freckled hand on the girl’s shoulder and began ushering her away from the door. “Cheryl, your boyfriend’s waiting for you…”

“Yes! Come and fly into my arms, honey!” The boy from the other end of the hallway sang, his arms open wide, fingers flexing with a “come hither” motion. The girl only shook her head and kept on walking past him. A tad shocked, but ever determined, the other boy followed her out of sight.

Cameron took one look at Elliot’s expression and laughed. “That would be my sister, Cheryl, and her boyfriend, Morty. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to them,” he explained through breathy chuckles. Elliot stood up, and using his feet, pushed off his shoes, his eyes transfixed as he looked around the place. Cameron gestured to his house. “Welcome to my home?”

And what a home it was. Elliot had figured that with someone like Cameron, the inside out of the house would contradict the outside and it’d be a pigsty. But contrary to that belief, the inside was very orderly and well kept. Not a thing out of place, nor was there anything that hadn’t been well dusted and cleaned. Family photo’s filled the walls in organized patterns. When Elliot took a closer look, he realized that the majority of them were of only the older man and of Cheryl, when they were younger. Only a few had Cameron at a younger age in them, too. One caught him by surprise when he saw a young woman in a single photo. A young woman with unmistakable rusty orange hair and a wide, beaming smile. Standing in front of the woman in the family photo was another little girl that Elliot didn’t recognize.

“Your sister,” Elliot began as Cameron led him through the house. “She looked like—”

“My twin? Everyone says that.” Cameron smiled and paused in the middle of the hallway near two open doorways. “Trust me, she’s not.”

“Oh.”

“Yep.” Then, Cameron added with a grin, “She’s actually my triplet.”

“Your what?” Elliot glanced back at that one photo of five, his jaw dropping. “You mean there are more of you in the world?”

Cameron blinked. “Not really. We’re fraternal, not identical. Besides, they’re both girls. Cheryl’s the oldest, I’m in the middle, and Christine is the youngest.” Cameron pointed a finger to the same photo Elliot had been studying, right on the little girl he didn’t recognize with calm dark eyes and darker orange hair than both Cameron and the mother. “See? That’s Christine. I think we were six when we got this photo taken. Somewhere around there.”

“…I see.” Elliot processed the information. As he did so, Cameron began to point out the different rooms of the house on that floor as a sort of mini tour. He couldn’t get over it. A triplet? He hadn’t known that…in fact, he didn’t really know much about the freckled boy at all. Cameron was, beyond a doubt, very extroverted, but he sure didn’t talk a lot about himself personally.

“—and that’s where the kitchen is. Feel free to get yourself anything if you get hungry or thirsty,” Cameron finished. He clapped his hands together. “What do you wanna do now?”

“Do?”

“Yeah. Something to pass the time,” Cameron said with a light chuckle. “That’s kinda what I meant by hangin' out.” Elliot’s response was silence, as he really had no idea what to do. Cameron hummed. “Well, we just set up our air hockey table down in the basement. Wanna play?”

“Air hockey…” Elliot mused. Cameron was already leading the way, opening the door to the basement and flicking on the light switch. Elliot followed, the wooden steps whining underneath each step. Elliot looked around as they neared the bottom. Aside from a few stacked boxes off in a distant corner, the basement looked to be in an orderly fashion, much like the rest of the house. There was a creamy white couch, a large TV with a few older game consoles, and even a plush carpet on the floor. And—Elliot couldn’t hardly keep himself from snickering—even a few oddly shaped and coloured lava lamps situated around the room, and some old band posters all along the walls of bands that even Elliot recognized. Off to the side, behind the couch, was the large, black and purple air hockey table. Still shiny and clean, already plugged into a nearby outlet and ready for use.

“I haven’t played in years.”

“Really?” Cameron asked, looking up after pressing the button on the table that turned it on. The machine lightly hummed, sighing with rushing air. Lights flickered on along the sides and on the counter, four glowing zeros.

“Yeah.” Elliot drifted to the other end of the table. He ran his hand over the plastic top, feeling the gentle push of cool air against his warm skin. “I might be a little rusty, but I bet I’m still really good.”

Cameron, who stood at the other end, let his smile take on a lighthearted, but ever mischievous, curl. “Really, now?”

“Yeah. The last time I played, I completely kicked Maxi's sorry ass.” The age-old memory birthed a smirk on Elliot’s features.

Cameron stifled a guilty chuckle. “Oh, c'mon. Maxi isn’t hard to beat, if he's not payin' close enough attention. A five year old could do it.”

Elliot crossed his arms. “Are you implying that I’m not a pro?”

Cameron’s smile widened, spreading from ear to ear. “Maybe.” He reached along the side of the table and retrieved two purple mallets and a neon green disk. He slid one mallet down to the other end of the table, then set his down behind the green disk. The red-haired boy set the timer near the scoreboard. Ten minutes. Competitiveness set Cameron’s eyes on fire. “Ready?”

Elliot’s smirk deepened. His heart fluttered and his stomach twisted with excitement. Elliot took his stance, hand poised with the mallet on the table. “Ready.”

The first shot was a blur. A quick clack and the disk was shot across the table in a green streak. Elliot’s hand flew across the smooth surface, blocking the disk, and sending it speeding to the other end. Then it was speeding back, a green bullet. With another loud clack, Elliot blocked it. Again and again, till the disk bounced off one side, swept underneath Elliot’s hand, and shot straight into his goal in a series of finalizing clacks. Elliot stared downwards, bewildered, but quickly regained his composure.

Cameron was beaming triumphantly at the other end. “Cameron, one. Elliot,” he made a zero with his thumb and fingers and stressed the final word’s syllables. “Zero.”

Elliot’s smirk returned with a vitality that would not be discouraged. He pulled the disk from his goal and set it back down on the table, hand already poised, ready to attack, but not before locking his eyes onto Cameron’s.

“Just wait. The game’s only just started.”

Cameron raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He slipped back into a defensive stance, anticipating Elliot’s next move.

Then there was nothing but that neon green disk, shooting back and forth like green lightening, the clang’s like sharp, snapping thunder akin to that of a bullet sound, biting at the otherwise quiet basement. When the disk finally shot into Cameron’s goal, and the counter changed into two one’s opposing each other, Elliot smirked with redeemed satisfaction. No time was wasted, however, because right afterwards, the green disk was back on the table. Cameron’s determination was passionate, and Elliot’s satisfaction was short-lived.

Back and forth, harder and louder as the competitive tension strengthened its bounds and the game progressed. Elliot’s breath came in short and fast, his every nerve leaping when those clacking sounds snapped in the air. Elliot lost track of the goals he’d lost and won. He was only focused on the game, on that damn green disk. All other details were swept underneath its intensity.

A buzzer rang.

Out of surprise, both boys froze, both panting and tense from over exertion.

“…What was that?” Elliot finally asked, stunned.

Cameron looked over at the counter. His eyes widened, his mouth parted from panting.

“We tied?!”

“What?” Elliot looked over at the counter. Sure enough, there the score was in glowing numbers—six to six.

“I can’t believe this!” Cameron continued, completely staggered. “I’ve never tied with anyone before! Ever! And only one point away, too…Gah! So close!”

Elliot nodded. He’d never tied with anyone before, either. It felt weird. However, when the game replayed itself in his head, all things considering the intensity and the brutal shots, a tie didn’t seem too bad.

“I told you I was good,” Elliot gloated, trying to catch his breath with every harsh pant. He watched Cameron walk around the table and lean over it to look more carefully at the glowing numbers.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Cameron murmured to himself, but he didn’t sound the least bit put off or discouraged. He wiped the back of his hand against his brow, the corners of his lips up-turned. “I never really pegged you as the type to be good at this sorta stuff, but wow. You sure proved me wrong.”

“I was a kid once.”

“No, really?” Cameron drawled sarcastically. “I figured you just fell out of the sky and landed perfectly fine on your feet, already all grown up and mature.” Cameron turned around with his hands gripping the side of the table, head tilted back as he lightly panted, and his chest heaving with every breath. “In any case, that has got to be one of the hardest games of air hockey I’ve ever played,” he breathed.

Elliot nodded. His eyes followed the movement of Cameron’s chest as it rose and fell with each intake of air, as each breath passed over his finely shaped, parted lips…

“I gotta hand it to you,” Cameron continued, oblivious to Elliot’s watchful and intrigued eyes. “You definitely took me off guard a few times. I can’t even fathom half of the shots you blocked.”

Elliot dropped the mallet back onto the table. “You weren’t so bad yourself,” he said as he crept around the corner of the table. Cameron was still talking as he walked around, unaware when Elliot came to a stop at his side.

“Wow. You’re complementing me? That’s a total fir—” Cameron turned his head. His sentence cut off the moment he realized just how close Elliot was. “Elliot?”

The sound of his name being said sent shivers rippling through him. Elliot drew even nearer, so that he stood in front of Cameron with one hand gripping the table behind them. The other hand rose to lightly finger the soft rusty orange hair that fell around Cameron’s face, brushing it away from Cameron’s cheek and behind his multi-pierced ear. Cameron stiffened at his touch, his cheeks warming. Elliot heard Cameron swallow nosily, watched as the other’s blue-green eyes fluttered everywhere along the body that leaned in so intimately.

There was a moment where time seemed to hang in the air, completely still. High on the moment’s anticipation, Elliot leaned in and stole the first kiss for the evening. Their lips moved together, gently, hesitantly, the sensitive flesh tingling where it pressed. Cameron made a sound at the back of his throat, and to Elliot’s displeasure, pulled way. A faint, reddish glow dominated his freckled cheeks and nose, betraying his knitted eyebrow’s concern and exposing his pleasure.

“I thought you were…you know, scared?” Cameron explained in a quiet voice. Despite the soberness of his voice, his mouth formed a tiny, guarded smile.

Elliot frowned. He moved in closer until he was standing between Cameron’s legs. “What gave you that idea?”

“You were tense all day.” Something about Cameron’s smile lessened, the corner’s turning down a bit at the memory. “I figured…that maybe you were having second thoughts.”

Elliot was a bit taken aback. Cameron had noticed? Maybe that wasn’t so much of a surprise. He’d been off all day, thinking about last weekend and Jacqueline, about everything that was happening. Perhaps that would only be expected. He’d never told Cameron anything about any of it, so it was only natural that the other would interrupt his stress as something like that.

“No, I haven’t changed my mind.” He watched something akin to relief glimmer in Cameron’s blue-green orbs. Even the other’s smile seemed to relax. The immediate change made Elliot smile a bit himself. “Once I make up my mind, I rarely ever change it.”

“Then, I’m an exception?” Cameron asked with a comedic grin. “I mean, really. You used to hate me, and look where you are now. I guess I really am magical.”

Elliot shrugged. “Let’s just say that you have good persuasion skills. But,” he brought a hand up to rest on Cameron’s hip and gripped it possessively, then said in a low voice, “I never hated you.” The thought of kissing Cameron again sent heat racing all over his body, where it eventually collected southward. Truth be told, he was still uncertain about this, about any of this. He was working on solid instinct with nothing else to help guide him.

All that he was really certain of was that if he waited a moment longer to taste those lips again, he’d go crazy from desire.

When he leaned in for another taste, there was no moment’s hesitation. If anything, things sped up. Elliot could feel Cameron’s fervor, pressing with delirious urgency, sending hot flashing waves of heat down, down, down. The hand on Cameron’s hip snaked around Cameron’s waist for support. He parted from the kiss for a moment’s intake of breath before swooping in again, claiming Cameron, and refusing to let him go. Another sound escaped Cameron, but not of protest. His mouth opened against Elliot’s, and when Elliot felt that wet invitation, he accepted, officially locking them into something much more intense and passionate, to the point that a soft sound even escaped him. It drove Cameron further, working harder and faster than before. Elliot felt rough hands grip the back of his shirt, holding him steadfast.

Cameron was the one to break off the kiss, panting desperately for air. Elliot didn’t want to stop, not even for a second. He immediately attached his mouth to Cameron’s neck, sucking and kissing endlessly. He felt the vibration of Cameron’s gasp against him and pressed harder up against Cameron, the table shaking slightly behind them. The grip on his shirt tightened, pulling harder as Elliot kiss and sucked along Cameron’s pulse, pulling a sweet, breathy moan from the freckled boy. Elliot felt dizzy from all the kisses, the moans, the panting…dizzy and delirious. He wondered at the back of his mind if the other could feel the desire between them, growing, developing—

The door at the top of the stairs swung and banged into the wall with a boisterous thud. Both Elliot and Cameron jumped apart, Elliot’s lips leaving Cameron’s neck with a slight smack. There must have been at least a foot between them by the time Morty stampeded down the stairs, finally appearing into sight.

“Hey guys, we ordered some pizza and it just arrived. Do you want some?” Morty asked in a rush, posed at the end of the stairway as if to bolt back up the stairs at a moment’s notice.

“S—Sure!” Cameron said with a shaky laugh. He turned to Elliot, a heavy blush still colouring his cheeks. “You want any?”

Not trusting his voice, Elliot nodded, his hands gripping the side of the air hockey table until his knuckles blanched.

“Sweet! Then come on up.” Morty beamed at them both, completely oblivious to the disheveled state of the two of them, before charging back up the stairs nosily. When the coast was clear, Cameron let out a heavy sigh before slipping into a nervous fit of chuckles.

“Whoa. That was a close one.”

Elliot nodded, and before Cameron could notice anything, turned away so that his back faced Cameron.

“Luckily for us, Morty is as subtle as he is quiet.” Cameron laughed even more, unable to control himself. When Elliot didn’t comment, or much less laugh as well, his laughter died young. “You okay? Nerves shot?”

Elliot nodded. He couldn’t trust his voice, or his current condition. When he felt Cameron draw nearer, he jumped, his shoulders tensing.

“Elliot?”

“You go on ahead.” Elliot cleared his throat. “I’ll catch up.”

“Why?” Cameron poked his head over Elliot’s shoulder, eyebrows raised. “Everything okay?”

“Yes.” Elliot couldn’t stress that enough. “I’m fine. I just…I just need a minute to myself. Go on ahead without me."

Cameron’s eyes widened, as if trying to solve an unsaid riddle in another language. One glance downwards solved the riddle. Cameron’s mouth curled into a grin that would put the Cheshire cat to shame.

“Someone’s excited…”

“Ugh!” Elliot groaned. “Just go already!”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m a bit excited mysel—”

“Out.”

Cameron laughed again and scratched his head. “All right, whatever you say,” the freckled boy replied. Elliot cast him a hard glance over his shoulder. He could practically hear the damn grin the other boy had. Of course this was funny for him. Jackass.

After he heard Cameron hurry up the basement stairs, Elliot’s grip loosened on the table. One hand rose, where it buried his burning face, heated with conflicting humiliation and arousal.

So much excitement from just a few heated kisses…his arousal wasn’t full-fledged, thankfully, but it was certainly enough that it made Elliot curse that his jeans weren’t looser.

Just a few kisses…

He didn’t even know how the whole thing had started. One glance at Cameron panting, and it was as if his body—and instincts—had gone on auto-drive. One kiss and he had been hooked. The proof was in the pants.

Elliot’s hand lowered from his face. His expression deepened the more he thought about it. He couldn’t remember the last time a person had turned him on so easily, if ever. He’d kissed—and been—with his fair share of girls before…but it’d only be around the time that heavy petting came in that some sort of sparks would fly. But never sparks like those. The ones with girls had been tiny jolts, but the ones with Cameron had been exploding. Electrifying. Alive.

Unlike that time a week ago…

…Was I ever straight in the first place? Or was I really just fooling myself?

Elliot didn’t have much time to brood. The faint aroma of hot pizza wafted through the air from the open doorway, at the top of the stairs. Figuring that he was calm enough now, Elliot made his way up the stairs and into the kitchen where the smell originated.

Sure enough, there were three large white boxes on the large, oval kitchen table. Cheryl was retrieving some plates from a nearby kitchen cupboard while Morty talked animatedly, his hands flying all over the place as he described something apparently miraculous to anyone who listened. Cameron sat on the counter, hunched over and listening to Morty with a curious expression. Cameron’s eyes drifted over when Elliot entered the room. The moment their gazes connected, a smile snuck over Cameron’s lips before he quickly looked away. Elliot heard a couple of stifled chuckles that made his blood boil. He was laughing at him!

Note to self: kick Cameron’s ass when there are no witnesses to defend him.

“Food, food, food, food!” Morty chanted, clasping his hands together with a voracious delight that faintly reminded Elliot of Muffin. Cheryl gave him a plate and thanked her with a quick peck on her cheek.

Elliot eyed the large boxes. “Isn’t that a lot?”

“Have you ever seen this guy eat?” Cameron said as he slipped off the counter. He took two plates from Cheryl and handed one to Elliot. “This guy is an eating machine stuck on overdrive. He could probably eat two of those boxes all by himself, and then ask for dessert.”

“And yet I keep such a fabulous figure,” Morty said with a snicker. He practically radiated with deep-seated triumph. “Ah. I’m a wonder in and of myself.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ve all this heard this before,” Cheryl said with a skeptical snort while she filled her plate. “C’mon, wonder boy. Lead the way to the living room.”

“Leading,” Morty sang. He placed his plate on the table, and instead, grabbed a whole box and held it with one hand. Cheryl rolled her eyes, but allowed him to slip an arm around her waist and pull her with him as he left the kitchen. Elliot watched them go with a peculiar expression.

“Elliot?” At the sound of his name, he turned and faced Cameron, who was already taking a large bite of pizza. The freckled boy gestured to the box. “Going to get some?”

“Yeah.” He took a deep breath and grabbed himself two slices, the food hot and greasy in his hand. He waited a moment after Cameron had left the kitchen before he, too, left and entered the expansive living room. Cheryl and Morty were sharing a large chair, Cheryl in the actual chair, Morty sitting on an arm, his legs dangling over the sides. His large pizza box sat beside the chair on a small side-table, already open with two whole pieces gone. Cameron plopped himself down on a dark jade couch, with both legs draped over the top of the couch. Elliot followed and sat down beside Cameron—a good foot away. The television was on. Western cartoon images flashing over the screen with an upbeat soundtrack. No one made any motion to talk. They were all too preoccupied with food to bother.

A few slices later, Morty looked over at Elliot and said around his food, “You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

Elliot swallowed a particularly large bite of food. “Maybe. What’s your last name?”

“Evans.”

“Evans?” Elliot hummed and took another bite of food. “Sounds familiar.”

“He’s Elena’s older brother,” Cameron supplied, looking completely relaxed and content where he sat, eating his food at his own pace. “And he’s over here all the time.”

Morty stuck his tongue out at Cameron, narrowing his eyes with mock-maliciousness.

“Really? Well now that you mentioned it, I do see some resemblance.” Elliot thought about the surname some more. Morty Evans. Where had he heard that name before, aside from Elena? It clicked. “I think we had sixth grade together. Miss Greene?”

Morty snapped his fingers. “There we go. I thought you looked familiar."

Cameron glanced over at Elliot, a curious eyebrow raised, but Elliot just shrugged it off. Cameron laughed and shook his head. “Small towns. Everyone really does know everyone.”

“I didn’t know your sister,” Elliot pointed out.

“That’s because I've only lived here for a few years, and I don’t go to a stuffy, private school,” Cheryl said around some food, then swallowed. Cameron shot her a look. She added, “Not that I think you’re stuffy, or anything.”

Morty laughed. This time, Cameron stuck his tongue out at him.

Afterwards, they fell into another period of silence. Nothing but the sounds of a high-pitched, yellow sponge filled the room as they finished their food. Elliot shifted in his seat, every now and then feeling an urge to move. No one position felt comfortable, or safe, enough. After the fifth shift in seating, Elliot forced himself to stay still. Cheryl was eyeing him enough without him having to hand her a reason why.

Sometime between the transition of one generic cartoon to another, Morty and Cheryl left, leaving only a dirty plate and an empty pizza box as physical evidence that they’d been there. It was only right after they left that Elliot relaxed a little more, finally able to find a spot on the couch that felt comfortable.

Elliot heard a low chuckle. He looked over at Cameron, who’d just finished his last slice of pizza.

“What?”

“You looked all tense there,” Cameron said with a faint laugh and a shake of his head.

“So?”

“So,” Cameron began, hoisting himself up and sitting properly, dropping both legs onto the couch and crossing them, “You look much calmer now that my sister and her boyfriend are gone.” When Elliot shot him a look, Cameron raised his hands in defense. “Don’t get me wrong. I mean that in a good way. You looked a little intimidated, actually. My family isn’t going to jump you and ask questions at gunpoint. Well, Cheryl might, but that’s not the point.”

Elliot narrowed his eyes. “What is your point?”

“My point is that you shouldn’t be so serious about everything. No one’s going to attack you here. You’re allowed to relax.” To emphasize his point, Cameron leaned back against the arm of the couch and crossed his arms behind his head. Elliot rolled his eyes, but at the other’s words, he could feel his muscles unwind themselves so that his body didn’t feel too overly tense or over conscious. He couldn’t have helped his earlier tension, though. Being in a new place, around new people, in a new situation. He didn’t know what to expect, or what preparation he might need.

It was as Cameron said. Just a little intimidating.

“Speaking of families.” Cameron grinned and blew some hair out of his face. “How did you like mine?”

Elliot smiled softly. Still so full of questions. “I can definitely see the relation. Your sister and her boyfriend are certainly…interesting.”

“That’s nothing. You should see those two when they’re hyped up on video game adrenaline rushes and energy drinks. Pure madness.”

Elliot shook his head. “I’ll pass. Although, I do have a question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“You said you’re a triplet, right?”

Cameron blinked, but nodded. “Right.”

“Cheryl’s one. Then there’s you. Where’s the third one?”

Cameron clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. His eyes drifted upwards. He gazed listlessly at the ceiling. “I don’t know.”

Elliot’s eyes widened exponentially. “You don’t know? How can you not?”

Cameron grinned, but it seemed a bit shaky after Elliot’s small outburst. “Sorry. That came out wrong. What I meant is that she—Christine—is with my mom, but I don’t know where my mom is. So, I do know, but I also don’t. Not exactly, anyway.” He stopped. His eyes fell and stared at Elliot’s flabbergasted expression. “What? My mom is nomadic. She never lives anywhere for longer than at least a year, although it’s usually less.”

Elliot allowed himself a moment longer of bewilderment, then regained his senses. He combed his fingers through his hair, still a tad bewildered at how Cameron could say that so casually. “With your mom? Then, your parents are…I mean, they’re…” His sentence drifted off. He was at a complete loss for words, or rather, a single word. He could remember all the days and nights he’d wished his parents would make that infamous decision, but to actually talk to someone with parent’s who’d…well, in any case, Elliot was taken a little off guard. He never would have suspected.

Cameron shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much. My dad was ready to settle down in one place and raise a family, but my mom wasn’t. She’s always on the move, always seeking new things to do. Makes her hard to track sometimes.” When Cameron noticed Elliot’s expression, a small laugh escaped his lips, breathy and delicate. “What’s with that look? S’ok, man. It happened years ago. Thing’s are just fine. Aw, and I’d just gotten you to relax, too.”

Elliot nodded, not really sure what to say. After all, it’d happened years ago. What was the point in even saying anything? “Sorry it happened”? It was pathetic to say something as self-righteous as that. What could he possibly be sorry for? Besides, Cameron seemed okay with it, which meant that he should be okay with it, too. If Cameron could shrug it off as nothing, couldn’t he?

Heh. Like he could. Elliot slumped a little more into the couch, absorbing the new information.

Maybe it only bothered him because of how lighthearted Cameron had been when he’d say it, sounding indifferent, able to literally shrug it off as if the word ‘divorce’ weren’t sewn in with painful feelings and memories that made the experience an actual experience.

Fuck. I do need to lighten up.

Cameron stretched his arms high above his head, his body arching a bit off the couch as he did so. “Anyways, enough about that. Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Sure.” Anything to help him relax.

Elliot felt the cushion beside him shift as Cameron got up to go to a shelf near the TV just crammed with movies. Cameron knelt down on his knees as he explored the bottom shelf, and with him, so did Elliot’s eyes drop as well. Only this time, Cameron turned around unexpectedly with a movie in each hand.

“Okay, which would you rather? The Fifth Element*, or…” Cameron paused. Elliot leaned back into the couch as far back as he could, but there was no escape from Cameron’s relentlessly inquiring eyes.

“Elliot, what were you looking at?”

“Nothing!”

Cameron crossed his arms. “Sure doesn’t seem like nothing.”

Elliot could feel his entire face and neck go up in flames. “Well, it was.”

Cameron’s blue-green orbs gazed at a moment longer. To Elliot’s ever-lasting relief, Cameron shrugged and turned back around to the movies.

In the end, after good few more minutes of movie searching, Cameron chose some independent film that Elliot had never heard of about an alien race at war with another alien race. According to Cameron, it was supposed to be social commentary on how people relate to one another, but apparently the acting and costume design was what really made the movie good. Elliot just nodded, not really sure what to think exactly. He didn’t really pay much attention to the movie, either. He was much more focused on the red-haired boy beside him. What he did, what he said. Any and all.

Sometime halfway through the movie, Cheryl and Morty reappeared. Quite nosily, too. Before long, the movie became background noise while Morty talked endlessly to Cheryl and Cameron over nothing. Elliot didn’t think it was possible for one person to say so much, yet say absolutely nothing, but it was. Feeling a little on the listless side after a very long day, Elliot just relaxed and listened to the half-hearted arguments flying back and forth over everything and nothing.

During the rolling credits of the movie, Cheryl stretched her arms and released a long, deep yawn. Morty wrapped his arms around her and crooned, “Aw. You tired, baby?”

Noticing his stiff muscles, Elliot stretched a bit, too. Speaking of which…“What time is it?” He looked at Cameron, but the redhead just shrugged. Elliot looked at Morty.

Morty checked his wristwatch. “A little before eleven,” He answered.

Elliot got up from the couch. “It’s getting late. I should get going.”

“Aw?” Cameron pouted, eyebrows upturned. “So soon?”

“He’s got a point,” Cheryl said with another yawn. She poked Morty’s stomach, eliciting a tiny yelp from her boyfriend. “You should get going, too. Before your mom freaks out and thinks you were abducted again.”

Morty made a face and looked reluctant to let Cheryl go, but a stern look from Cheryl made him him groan before getting up and noisily left the room. Cheryl got up and followed him. A moment later, Elliot heard the front door slam shut.

Elliot caught Cameron’s eye, who still sat on the couch, his head propped on one hand on the arm of the couch and his legs curled underneath him. Just staring at him. Elliot cleared his throat a heart beat later.

“I gotta get going…”

Cameron nodded as he got up. “I’ll walk you out.”

Elliot kept his eyes glued to the floor as they walked to the front door. Cheryl was nowhere to be seen, but Cameron said that her shoes were still here, so she had probably just gone to bed. Elliot nodded. He bent down on one knee as he did up his shoes. Cameron leaned against the wall as he talked. When Elliot was finished with his shoes, he got up on both feet. By this time, Cameron had gone quiet. Elliot shifted his weight from one foot to another.

“Thanks for having me over,” Elliot said quietly. It couldn’t have sounded any lamer. He mentally slapped himself.

Cameron nodded. “You’re welcome. You’re free to just come over anytime.” He paused, then added in a sheepish grin, “Like, if you want to get away from home or something. Just drop on by.”

Elliot raised an eyebrow, but then it occurred to him what Cameron meant.

“You don’t need to concern yourself over that.” Memories of sleepovers spent over at The President’s house replayed in Elliot’s mind, along with the days where he’d return to two exhausted adults and some wrecked furniture. Then there were the days where he’d put his foot down and just stand it while he told himself that it’d be over in an hour.  “It’s not a big deal.”

“I know. I’m just trying to be nice. Without making fun of you.” Cameron grinned at that. Elliot shook his head.

“Not that again.”

Cameron nodded. “Hey now, don’t get that look again.”

“What look?”

“The one where it looks like you’re over thinking things.”

Elliot frowned. “I do not—” He was cut off when Cameron abruptly leaned over and sealed his lips over his for a brief moment. But only a brief moment. He pulled back, smiling like the devil himself.

“That’s repayment for Saturday,” he said. “Now off you go.” He made shooing motions with his hand. “Go home and catch up on your beauty sleep.”

Elliot opened his mouth, but no words came. With a reluctant sigh, he opened the door and thought it better to just call it a night than to waste energy. Cameron called out a good-bye from the doorway, to which Elliot just waved. He got into his car just as the front door closed, and even after a minute to process it, something as innocent as a peck on the lips still kept him trapped within a state of shock. But the memory replayed in his head, and at its warmth, he began to smile a smile that carried on with him long after he got home.


~+~+~+~+~+~+~


To Be Continued