Mixed Tails
Chris stands in front of the bedroom mirror, working the buttons of his shirt. There's a tickle in his throat, bottom lip aching from where he keeps worrying it with teeth. He feels nervous, leg twitching each time he stands still.
"Fuck." Chris mutters, smoothing a hand over his button up. He rubs his eyes, glasses tumbling to the floor. Chris fights back a curse, spinning around to figure out where exactly they landed. He finds them beside his bed.
Chris shouldn't be this nervous, shouldn't even be feeling the amount of dread that's been situated in his gut but he does. Chris had met Sam before, knows her through Matt and has had a class or two in the past year with her but the difference between then and now is Sam knows what he is.
Chris previously thought Emily was the most terrifying force known to mankind. He was wrong. A knock comes to his apartment door, the familiar tick, ta-tick tick, that is uniquely Josh's. It's a sound Chris has grown fond of.
Chris answers, Josh pattering his knuckles against the door rapidly. Josh beams, expression bright, a thick black scarf wrapped around his neck, plaid button up too big and too loose, sleeves bunched around his elbows. His legs seem extra thin, eyes a bit bleaker, a bit darker. The bruises are mostly gone, fading remnants left behind, cuts healed and pink.
"You okay?" Josh asks, smile falling.
"What? Y-Yeah. You look, um, good."
The smile returns. "Thanks, man. You do too."
Chris glances down at his attire, three shirts, two button ups. He should probably pull on a sweater. Chris retreats back into his apartment, heading towards his bedroom. He registers the front door closing behind him, Josh's boots clamoring across the floor. Chris grabs a sweater from his closet, pulling it on carefully.
"I could've walked to Matt's. It's only two blocks."
"Didn't want you to walk alone." Josh remarks, plopping down on Chris' bed. "You look nervous."
"I am. Kind of." Chris sighs.
"Aw, Cochise. It's just Sam."
"You've met her right? You guys have been, what, friends since birth?"
"Something like that." Josh smiles.
Chris turns to Josh, a miserable expression hanging off his face. Josh chuckles, eyes creasing in the corners. He rises to his feet, moving towards Chris. Josh reaches out to fix Chris' collar.
"Sam's cool. It's going to be great. You, me, Sam and Matt."
"The Human brigade." Chris comments.
Josh punches him in the shoulder. "Shut up. You agreed to this."
"Only on the pretense of free food."
"Not like you can eat it, Cochise." Josh points out.
Chris sighs, a faux pout on his lips. "I should stay home then."
"Definitely not." Josh smirks, reaching down to grasp Chris' hand. "I've been looking forward to this. For an entire week. A week. Do you know how long that is?"
"Seven days?" Chris clears his throat, allowing Josh to intertwine their fingers.
"A long ass time, bro." Josh answers.
"Yeah." Chris says noncommittally.
"You okay, man?" Josh grins, stepping closer to Chris. He bites his bottom lip, still grinning like some two year old asshole. Chris flushes, adjusting his glasses then readjusting them. His palms feel clammy, warm and slick.
"You're red." Josh breathes, gaze focused on Chris' mouth. "Really, really red."
"Shut up, Josh." Chris mutters. "We should go."
Josh deflates, squeezing Chris' hand once before letting go. He nods, embarrassment written across his face, arms folded across his chest. Chris wishes he wasn't such an awkward shit but this is the most progress he's ever made with anyone relationship wise. It's hard to talk about feeling when you're busy being balls deep, romantically speaking.
Chris grabs Josh's shoulder, the fabric smooth beneath his palm. He places a kiss to Josh's forehead, cheeks heating up. Chris pulls away, clearing his throat nervously. Josh stares at him, wide eyed and blushing.
Chris speaks first. "You okay, bro?"
"Seriously? Fuck you." Josh coughs, pinching Chris' arm. "Let's go, asshole."
Chris snickers, trailing after Josh, who is hurriedly walking towards the door. Josh taps his foot impatiently, face still a light pink. He doesn't try to hold Chris' hand when they leave, still embarrassed. Chris hides his smile in the palm of his hand, wordlessly staring around the elevator. Josh notices, burying his nose in the folds of his scarf.
"What exactly is this again?"
"It's a festival. Fall festival?" Josh shrugs. "It's fun and I get to eat my weight in cotton candy."
Chris snorts at that. "Right."
"I even took my meds today. It's gonna be a good day. Promise."
Chris glances at Josh, taking the hand closest to his and squeezes. He didn't know much about Josh, little bits and pieces he's strung together from conversations. He knows his dad is a renowned Director who makes time in his chaotic schedule to take Josh to therapy three times a week. Chris didn't know what Josh was in therapy for, only asked once and Josh had told him he's always been like this.
Josh laces their fingers together, adjusting his scarf as they walk. It unfolds and slouches along his shoulders, far bigger than Chris originally thought, resembling a wrapped skirt than an actual scarf. Josh struggles to secure it around his neck, regret evident in his face.
Chris pauses on the sidewalk, using his free hand to guide and wrap the fabric. His reward is a blushing smile.
"Thanks, man."
"Sure thing."
Sam is standing outside Matt's apartment, a black mackinaw cap secured on her head, hair cropped short and damp. Her outfit mimics Josh's, except she's wearing a skirt instead of leggings. Matt stands beside her, dressed plainly in shades of black and navy, no letterman jacket in sight.
"I never thought I'd see the day." Chris comments.
"Mike, uh, has it." Matt explains weakly, rubbing the back of his neck. "He asked for it."
Chris' eyebrows shoot up, mouth falling open in shock. He makes wild gestures, hand still in Josh's, and Matt squints at him, embarrassed but smiling. Chris really wants to say how middle school that gesture is, wearing your crush's jacket and bringing it back smelling like you.
"Yeah. I guess." Matt supplies. "We're.. talking."
"What does that even me?" Chris asks.
Sam lifts an eyebrow at Chris, gaze dropping to his and Josh's linked hands before dragging back up to his face, a smirk in place. She doesn't have to say anything, the warning clear and bright like fire spreading through a forest. Chris has never met a more terrifying human being.
"Like you and Josh." Matt says helpfully, not noticing the tension building in the air. Josh clams up, clearing his throat and he looks away when he holds Chris' hand tighter. Chris didn't consider his and Josh's relationship 'talking', they've only held hands and Josh has fallen asleep curled up in his lap more than once now. Chris is also an idiot, he realizes, noting the way Sam rolls her eyes. Okay, they were talking.
He wonders if she can smell fear.
"We're going to miss the train." Josh says. "We should go."
"Em said she'd meet us there." Matt tacks on.
Sam reaches for Josh's other hand. He takes it, pulse racing against Chris' skin when she steps closer. Chris isn't sure what that means but he lets go of Josh, stepping up to Matt to read the message he's burning through.
From: Queen
I have something for you.
It's getting dangerous.
Also I'll be late.
Jess.
"That explains a lot." Chris says.
Matt nods in agreement. He beckons the other two to follow after, tapping his wrist to suggest the time. Sam and Josh are still holding hands, Chris wishes he didn't feel sick all of a sudden.
"Ashley was going to come but she's pissed at Em. I told her to stay." Chris tells Matt. "No need for unnecessary drama, right?"
"Oh thank god." Matt sighs, relieved. He smiles. "I was worried. I don't think I can handle another one of their fights."
Chris agrees, glancing over his shoulder at the sound of giggling. Sam is pressed close to Josh, hand folded over his ear as she whispers softly. There's a wide smile on Josh's face, carefree and lovely.
"They're always like that." Matt must notice Chris' dejection. "Josh says they've been friends since grade school. Sam was his sister's best friend."
Chris looks at Matt. "Josh has sisters?"
"He, uhm, used to. They went missing when Josh was a freshman in high school." Matt explains, "He hardly talks about them."
"Oh."
"Cheer up, guy. He can't stop talking about you." Matt grins widely, reaching around to squeeze Chris' shoulder. "Josh likes you, Chris. Plus you've got cool ghoul powers."
"There's nothing cool about them, Matt." Chris huffs.
"Em told me how rare it is for a ghoul to have two kagunes. Does he know? That aside from being an octopus, you are also a pine tree?"
Chris punches Matt gently causing the other to laugh in response. Chris smiles, heart feeling a bit lighter and he's glad to have Matt around.
The train station isn't busy, a couple of stragglers hanging around stone columns, bundled up for winter. Matt pays for their tickets, his excuse being Emily gave him fifty dollars because she was tired of watching him walk everywhere. Josh stands beside Chris on the platform, quiet, rocking back and forth on his heel. Sam is talking with Matt on his other side.
"How long have you know Matt?" Josh asks.
Chris shrugs. "Mm. I just met him last year. Emily knew him first. Introduced us."
"How'd she meet him?"
"I think they dated." Chris wasn't entirely sure how that origin story went or however their relationship ended, just one day he came home to his apartment and Emily was standing in his bedroom, covered in blood and filth and said she couldn't be with Matt anymore. Chris knows Matt has three deep scars that wrap across his back. He's not sure what happened that day but Emily doesn't talk about it and neither does Matt.
"You took your hand away." Josh says softly.
"Uh."
"Did you want to? You did it.. when Sam came over." Josh is looking at him. The train whistles by, gusts of trapped air expelling around them. It slows to a stop, cars rocking slightly before settling. The doors slide open, Matt and Sam heading inside, laughing softly.
Josh doesn't move, waiting for Chris' answer.
"No." Chris answers. "I didn't want too."
"Why did you?"
Chris shrugs, testing words in his mouth, rolling them around on his tongue until he can conjure up how to say 'it seemed like something I should do' without sounding like an idiot.
"Dude, hurry up." Matt calls, nervously glancing at the emptying platform. Chris takes Josh's hand, tugging him onto the train with little resistance. He stands at the door, Josh beside him while Matt and Sam occupy a window seat, drumming the tune to YMCA on the plastic seats.
"You know I like you, right?"
Chris glances down at Josh. "Yeah."
"You know that.. I like you a lot, right?"
"Is that your survivor's debt talking?"
Josh punches him, nostrils flared in annoyance. "No, dumbass."
The punch kind of hurt, more like a sharp tickle than an actual punch but judging by Josh's closed off expression, the reddish tint lining his knuckles it was meant to hurt.
"Sorry."
Josh punches him again. "You're an asshole."
"Yeah."
Josh doesn't say anything else, body swaying slightly as the train moves. He stands in front of Chris, staring intently at Chris' sweater like its offended him. His grip around Chris' hand is hard. Chris didn't mean to upset him, the tack of pleasant conversations sweeping along his mind. Chris brushes his thumb over Josh's knuckles, once then twice, watching the tension fade away like a sigh.
"I'm not sticking around because you saved my life, Chris. Or because I feel like I owe you. I mean, I do. But I could send you a thank you card or somethin'." Josh lifts his head. "You're fun to be around. I like being around you."
"That sounds fake but okay." Chris smiles.
"Shut the fuck up." Josh bites out.
Chris tips his head, placing a quick peck to Josh's forehead. It earns him another, albeit weaker, punch and a bright red Josh Washington. Chris catches Sam's gaze from where she sits, a fond smile on her face. It fades when she notices Chris staring. Her shoulders lift with a sigh. She winks at Chris.
The train ride isn't long, thirty minutes north of Philly to a part of Pennsylvania Chris doesn't recognize. It's closer to New Jersey, the distant welcome sign disappearing as the train rounds in the opposite direction. Chris can see a Ferris wheel, drawn up high, colored pink and red with tiny lanterns. Chris has never been on one and it seems fitting that his first experience should be with Josh.
This was Matt's idea, so he leads, rattling on about how great the deep fried Oreos are. Sam makes a joke about how it probably tastes like shit, Chris tacking on about how everything tastes like shit. She laughs at it, so Chris counts that as a win.
It's the weirdest festival Chris has ever been to, resembling a shit version of a carnival with a bobbing apples station and a man who spits fire through his nose. It's impressive, human, Chris notes and that's all he's surrounded by; humans. Chris nearly sighs in relief.
"Sammy! Cotton candy!" Josh chirps excitedly, releasing Chris' hand as he bounces over to a cotton candy stand, Sam hot on his heels. Chris glances at Matt. Matt shrugs, clearly uninterested in anything candy related.
"I don't care for sweets. Except for deep fried Oreos."
"That still sounds fucking nasty."
"It is, but it's so good, man." Matt sighs dreamily. "I'd say have some but you can't. Personally I don't want to coax you through another vomit session."
Chris didn't want that either, smiling in amusement when the others return with more than four sticks of cotton candy. It ends up in Josh's hair, clinging to his scarf and Sam's hat as they eat excitedly. It's disgusting.
"Animals." Matt comments.
"Agreed."
"Oh shut up." Sam says. "Let's go find your Oreos so you can be gross with me. Will you two be joining us?"
Josh shakes his head, smacking his lips, tossing a freshly cleaned plastic stick in a nearby trashcan. He works on the second roll of cotton candy and points to the Ferris wheel. Sam sends Chris a weird look, Matt winking suggestively.
"God, please, leave." Chris groans, slapping a hand against his forehead. They do, but not before sharing a knowing glance, grinning manically.
Josh grabs Chris' hand, directing him towards the growing line for the Ferris wheel. They manage to snatch a decent spot in line, nearly cutting off another couple who seemed persistent. The wait isn't bad, four, maybe five minutes of waiting, minutes of listening to Josh eat a worryingly large amount of cotton candy.
"I have many regrets." Josh says once he finishes the last one. He sounds sick. "Oh my god, Chris. Why did you let me do this?"
"You did this to yourself. Accept the consequences."
"Cochise, why are you so mean?" Josh whines.
"I'm getting on this stupid thing for you so I'm pretty nice."
Josh nudges him, leaning his head against Chris' shoulder. The fair employee beckons them, prying the carriage door open with less enthusiasm. It wobbles when Chris steps on, regret already filling his ribs with dread. Josh urges him inside, buzzing happily as he plops down beside Chris. The door closes, carriage rocking slightly as it begins the slow ascent.
Chris barely makes out the passengers above them, watching it rock back and forth slowly as laughter echoes. Josh stares out the window, transfixed, expression warmed with awe as they move higher and higher. Chris isn't paying attention, eyes locked on Josh. The setting sun dips over his sharp features, softening them into something young, something sweet.
Josh glances at Chris, pushing his hair back as a soft pink tint dusts his cheeks. He doesn't say anything, biting at his lips, gaze dropping. Chris places a hand on Josh's knee, tilting forward. Josh meets him the rest of the way, grasping Chris' collar.
Josh tastes like salt, mouth scratchy and cold, lips dry, but the inside is hot, soft and wet and it makes Chris' stomach flip at how nice it tastes. Chris has never tasted a honeysuckle but it's probably a lot like kissing Josh. He clutches at Josh's knee, pressing closer, eyes slipping closed as his tongue slides along Josh's.
Josh breathes, pushing at Chris' shoulder, mouth moving, insistent and so damn hot. He breaks away, lips puffy, eyes hooded and dark. Josh presses Chris back against the cold seat, sliding onto his lap, leaning back in.
Chris sighs, holding Josh close, both hands settled on the other's hips, grip tight. Josh moans softly, raking a hand through Chris' hair, spine arching up into Chris' hand as it slides along his back.
Chris can faintly hear voices drawing near, gravity shifting as the carriage is pulled downward. Josh's mouth is still attached to his, distracting and lovely and it's hard to want to stop.
"We're close." Chris manages, heart beating loudly in his chest. Josh nods, distant, a noncommittal noise ringing from his throat. Chris kisses him again. Josh lingers, fixing Chris' collar, noses brushing.
"Let's go back around." Josh suggests.
It's tempting, Chris thinks, pulling lightly at Josh's scarf until it unfolds. He leans forward, lips trailing along the skin of Josh's neck. Josh tilts his head, hands back in Chris' hair. The voices are growing closer, louder, more distinct and clear and honestly, Chris can't believe he's cockblocking himself.
"Or we can go back to my place. Think of the children." Chris pecks Josh's growing pout.
"Fuck the children."
"That's the rudest thing you've ever said."
Josh snickers. "You just met me."
Josh helps Chris with his hair, chuckling like an asshole when the strands refuse to stay together. Chris nudges him roughly, eyes darting to the opening carriage door. Josh fixes his scarf, righting it around his neck. He winks at the blushing employee as they leave, Chris nudging him roughly.
Sam and Matt are waiting beside the line to the Ferris wheel, Sam looking increasingly uncomfortable with each second she stands there watching Matt devour a dripping, gooey handful of fried Oreos.
"That's fucking gross." Josh chuckles. Chris thinks it looks like a person's insides if you left it out in the sun too long, intestines fried and drooping, bites of white bone.
Sam glances at Josh, sizing him up slowly. Her eyes turn to Chris, categorizing and she's plucking a ten dollar bill from her purse and smacking it into Matt's hand. Josh deflates.
"Seriously, guys?"
"I thought you'd last another week." Sam mumbles, grumpy. "We're meeting Emily at the funnel cakes."
Sam beckons them to follow, stepping backwards, hands digging in her purse. She procures her phone, spinning on her heel, angling just so. The flash goes off. Chris' nostrils flare. Josh groans weakly from his side, Matt grimacing, the tip of his nose covered in melted white icing.
Sam grins widely, eyes focused on the picture. She stumbles into someone, mouth dropping open in apology. "Oh man. I'm so sorry!"
"It's quite alright."
Chris raises his head, recognizing the sound of that voice, fear spreading through him. He's only met Patrick once, with Emily after his parents died. The man was far older than them but he gave them a place to stay. The CCG called him the Crow, his affiliation with the Petty Goats known across the states. It was still a stupid name but seeing Patrick again, standing in front of Sam was terrifying.
Chris tenses. Patrick gives him a warm smile.
"My, my. Fancy this meeting." Patrick says, running a hand over the front of his dress shirt. "How long has it been, Christopher? Four years? Three?"
"Three." Chris answers, the other three turning to him. His heart beats rapidly in his chest, goosebumps running down his arms the longer he stand before Patrick. "These are my friends."
"Ah, I see." Patrick replies, clasping his hands behind his back. Josh steps closer to Chris, wrapping a hand around his wrist. The gesture doesn't go unnoticed. Patrick's eyes shine in recognition, a small smile on his face.
"It's been a long time, Joshua. How is your father?"
Chris heckles, alarmed, glancing down at Josh, who seems equally confused. He gives a half assed 'okay' and Chris commends him internally on how level his voice sounds. Josh's grip tightens. Patrick hums pleasantly.
"Excellent. I must say this is a turn of events." He says. "I came here looking for a bird and yet, here I find, an old friend, the last Washington and lunch."
Chris takes a step forward. Patrick grins. His nose wrinkles, eyes roaming over Chris in a way that makes his skin crawl. He moves through Matt and Sam, their expressions varying between discomfort and wary. Patrick tilts forward, arms still clasped behind his back, nose brushing along Chris' ear. He sniffs once, then twice, a wide smile forming when he straightens.
"Seems your tastes have changed. Our kind? How exciting, Christopher."
Chris swallows thickly, skin bubbly and hot. Patrick pats his shoulder as he walks by, an amused chuckle filling Chris' ears. He can't breathe, phlegm building along his windpipe. Chris forces it down, tongue pushing against his teeth hard. He glances back. Patrick is gone.
"Are you okay?" Josh asks softly.
Matt steps up to him, concerned. He places a comforting hand on Chris' shoulder. Sam reaches out to touch his arm, emotions warring across her face. Panic, fear, hesitation. Chris nods.
"Yeah, yeah. Just.. an old friend."
"Some friend." Matt comments but he knows about Patrick, about the Goats.
"We should go." Chris suggests, Sam nodding enthusiastically. They find Emily where she said she'd be, a dark pair of sunglasses on her face. She doesn't smile but the muscles in her jaw flex which is the same thing. Emily slides her sunglasses off, taking in their sullen expressions with a thin lipped frown.
"What happened?"
"Patrick's here." Chris tells her. "Can we go?"
"Jesus. Fine." Emily huffs irritably. Chris knows it's not directed at him, her entire demeanor shifting into a simmering, quiet anger. She procures her phone from her pocket, typing rapidly.
"If he's here.. What does that mean?" Sam asks.
"It means a Dove is here." Matt answers. "It means.. a lot of people are going to die."
Sam's jaw drops, gasping softly. She places a hand over her mouth, staring intently at the ground.
"We can't help them." Emily says curtly. "It's bad enough a Goat is here, let alone the leader. If the Doves are here as well it doesn't bode well for us. It's not like we're playing for either team."
A child giggles not far from them, wailing loudly when her father lifts her up onto his shoulders. She grasps a pink bunny from an arrangement of stuffed animals dangling over a game of horseshoe, babbling excitedly. Josh's hand trembles in his.
"Let's go." Josh says quietly.
The walk to the train station is unsettling, quiet. Sam keeps glancing back at the fading festival, Emily holding Matt's arm, Josh staring intently down at their moving feet.
Josh tenses up, head turning to look over his shoulder and maybe if Chris wasn't distracted, wasn't solely focused on the drum of Josh's heart, the blood rushing under his skin, he would've heard it.
Screaming.
Sam hurries to them, clasping Chris' sleeve, a tiny whimper escaping her throat. Chris wraps an arm around her, trying his best to provide comfort. Matt and Emily continue on. Chris can see the unease resting in Matt's shoulders.
No one says anything, the playful banter dead and left behind as the train rolls. Sam doesn't drum the beat to YMCA, Chris can't find it in himself to clown on Matt about Mike. He wants to say you get used to it, it gets better like Emily used to. Chris doesn't.
Emily holds his gaze the entire ride back, expression soft, so painfully sympathetic. She doesn't walk with them to Matt's apartment, just says to come by later, her voice small and meek. Sam comes though, nervously wedging herself between Chris and Matt.
Josh is quiet, only releasing Chris' hand once they're tucked away inside his apartment. Sam watches him disappear into his bedroom, the door falling shut behind him.
"Are you okay?" Sam asks.
Chris realizes she's talking to him. He clears his throat. "Uhm, yeah. Thanks."
Sam smiles softly. "Are you staying?"
Chris glances back to the closed bedroom door. He shrugs. Matt urges Chris towards it.
"Go."
Chris isn't sure what he can do but he concedes, dragging his feet along the carpet. The door isn't locked so he slips inside, pushing it closed behind him. Chris can hear the shower running, standing outside Josh's bathroom. There's steam frothing at the bottom of the closed door. Sam's soft voice floats in from the living room, Matt's following after. Chris closes his eyes, forehead resting heavily against the door.
It was supposed to be a good day.
Chris grips the door knob, warm metal heavy in his hand, pulsing like a vein. He turns it softly. The bathroom is foggy, heat nearly suffocating, thick with whitish film. Chris can make out Josh's form sitting in the middle of the shower, shoulders slouched, head tilted downwards. His skin is red and Chris realizes he's trembling.
Josh doesn't say anything, doesn't turn at the sound of the door closing, blankly staring at the tops of his knees. Chris adjusts the temperature, slipping out of his sweater. He rolls up his sleeves, then his jeans until they're folded to his knees, changing the dial to fill the tub. Chris steps in beside Josh, nervously running a hand along the other's bare shoulders.
Josh tenses.
Chris holds his breath.
Josh forces out a sigh, muscles straining to relax under Chris' hand. He buries his face into his knees. Chris isn't sure what to say, what he can say and it feels like this is all his fault, it probably was.
Chris cups warm water in between his hands, pouring it gently along Josh's skin. He takes the loofah dangling from the shower head, pumping it up with an unnecessary amount of bath wash. It smells like almonds and pine trees. Chris lathers it up in his hands, jaw ticked to one side.
He can't figure out what to say.
Josh doesn't react when Chris starts rubbing soapy circles into his back, doesn't protest when his arms are lifted and placed, head tilted back, expression passive as Chris scrubs. The water colors pink, pink and white, small trills of steam floating up.
Chris takes Josh's shampoo from the corner and sniffs the contents. It's surprisingly fruity, a lot like something Chris imagines would be in Jess' bathroom. He pours a bit into his hands, hesitating. Josh tilts his face from Chris, hands wedged under his knees. Chris inches forward, working fingers through tangles and dirt, following the circular motions he's making distantly.
It's soothing to watch. Rotate thumb, massage slowly, repeat. Josh sighs, leaning into the touch. Chris keeps at it. The faucet drips quietly. Chris thinks of his mom, thinks of the first time he washed his hair without her aid. Seven years old, covered in suds and crying because he managed to get shampoo in his eyes.
Chris rinses Josh's hair as best he can, listening to the hurried drips of water and soap fall into the tub. Josh is staring at him, lips parted, the same warm gaze he gave Chris when he showed up on his doorstep.
Chris drains the tub, coaxing Josh to sit on the edge as he dries his hair. It's not very gentle but Josh doesn't say anything as Chris roughly shuffles the towel along his head. Just stares ahead numbly, rocking each time Chris runs the towel over his skin.
Chris fetches a shirt from Josh's room, relieved to see Josh is sitting on the toilet, damp and naked instead of wallowing on the side of the tub. The shirt is big on Josh, hilariously so, baggy like most of Josh's clothes but Josh snuggles into it as Chris plops down in front of him on the floor. Josh's gaze drags up to meet his.
"Why don't you like it?"
Chris blinks. "Like what?"
"Killing people." Josh explains, voice timid. "It's an avoidance of your nature, don't you think?"
Chris shrugs. He never thought about it too often, only when his hunger would get too bad and Emily would be waiting outside his apartment.
"I don't want to be the reason a kid wakes up one day and their parents are gone." Chris says slowly. "Or the reason a neighborhood is woken up to the sound of a woman screaming because the police are saying her son is dead. I.. I don't want that."
Chris has experienced something similar, blurred images of his father's smiling face, his mother's head. He barely remembers that night, memories clamping down on insignificant details but he remembers waking up in Emily's car and her saying he could never go back home.
Josh nods.
Chris places his hands on Josh's knees, tipping forward slightly. Josh leans in, foreheads pressing together and sighs. He takes one of Chris' hands in his, grip shaky and weak. His fall eyes shut.
"Did you know him? Patrick?"
Josh shakes his head. "Not really. He looked familiar."
"Okay, that's okay." Chris says. It wasn't really, a bit worrisome, considering Josh was now associated with Chris. He didn't know what that meant. But Patrick knew Josh and Chris can't help but wonder if it had anything to do with the half ghoul he saw standing on the apartment building beside Matt's.
"Please," Josh licks his lips. "Please, tell me everything will be okay."
Chris could do that. "Everything will be okay."
"Will you stay?"
"Yeah."
Josh squeezes Chris' hand. "Thank you."
Chris rises to his feet, tugging lightly at Josh's hand until the other stands, knees wobbling slightly. He leads Josh into his bedroom, flicking the bathroom light off. Sam's voice is no longer on the other side of the closed door, neither is Matt's, apartment silent and calm.
Chris slides into Josh's bed, jeans still bunched up around his knees. Josh takes the opposite side, blinking tiredly, fingers shaky in Chris' hold.
"Everything will be okay." Chris repeats.
Josh nods, tears lining his eyes. He wipes at his face, mouth pinched into a thin line. Josh shifts forward, tucking his head underneath Chris' chin. Chris wraps an arm around Josh, staring into the setting silence. He doesn't say anything. Neither does Josh.
Chris falls asleep with Josh's hand in his.