Dislocated

They don't talk about it. At all. Not even when Josh's hand brushes against his while they watch Nosferatsu or later when Sam is making them smoothies and Chris kisses Josh against bedroom door. They don't talk about it.

"You want to come over tonight?" Chris asks him, thumbing through Josh's old sketchbook. He's propped up on Josh's unused bed, deciding to set money aside to buy the pillows he's pushed back on. There is a section towards the end, past all the sketches of anatomy and landscapes, that's entirely Beth and Hannah. Each page is different, the twins smiling, the twins laughing, the twins alive and the pages begin to shift in mood until their faces aren't as recognizable and gradually Beth disappears from the drawings. Only Hannah remains, smiling with a mouth full of sharp teeth.

Josh is sitting at the desk, bent over a worn notebook. He looks back at Chris, hand coming to rest under his chin. A fingers rests along the long scar on Josh's face, idly stroking ruined skin.

"At your house?"

Chris closes the sketchbook and sets it down beside him. "Yeah. Just us."

Josh chews on the end of his pen, turning back to the notebook beneath him. He writes a few lines down.

"I don't know if it's a good idea." Josh admits, his voice quiet.

Chris rips off a tiny corner of a page in the back. He curls it between his fingers, rounding the edges. Chris flicks it at the side of Josh's head. It bounces off his temple.

Josh turns to him, appearing vaguely amused.

"I have nightmares sometimes."

"I do too."

Josh adjusts in his seat, facing Chris. "I can't sleep for long periods of time."

"I sleep a maximum of 6 hours."

"Are we going to talk?"

Chris shakes his head. "We can play video games, watch movies. Make out."

Josh leans against the back of his chair, a smile slowly dragging itself across his face. He's in one of his old sweaters, the neck a little wider than it used to be. "That's kinda gay, bro."

Chris slides to the end of the bed, legs swinging over the edge. "What if I say no homo?"

Josh chuckles deep in his throat, a familiar old sound that makes Chris' heart race.

"I don't know still kinda gay."

Sam decides at that moment to pop in, a glass tucked in her elbow while she holds the other two. "What's gay?"

"You?" Josh asks innocently, taking the glass from Sam.

"Har... Har. Okay but let's talk about you two and the eying thing." Sam points between them.

Chris raises a hand dramatically to his chest. "That's kinda gay, Sam."

"The gayest, bro. I agree."

They bump fists and Sam smacks Chris upside the head, a vein in her forehead twitching. Josh laughs, wheezing loudly when Sam points a finger at him.

"I'll smack you too, bird brain."

"Yes ma'am." Josh gives a small nod. His alarm startles him and he nearly topples out of his seat. He glances at the smoothie then at Sam.

"You're scary."

Sam smirks at him, eyes following Josh as he hurries out the room. Her pointed gaze shifts, aiming at Chris almost immediately when the door shuts.

"I talked to Ashley."

Chris slumps forward, arms folded over his knees.

"I haven't."

"What happened?" Sam asks, but her voice suggests she knows the answer.

Chris blows into his fist, chest tight. "Josh happened. I can't fully explain the last events to occur."

"She says you guys are breaking up?"

Chris nods, rising to his feet. He wanders over to Josh's desk, brushing over neat handwriting. Bits of eraser speckle the surface, smears of lead against the edge of certain words. Chris feels her hand touch his shoulder, her forehead bumping against his back.

"She's not completely ignorant in the turn of events." Sam tells him. "I tried to tell her that it wouldn't work."

"Wasn't good enough for her?" Chris chuckles darkly.

"You aren't right for her. Not how you are with Josh. You two have always just," she searches for the word. "clicked together. Hannah seemed to think this was inevitable."

"I still did a dumb thing. If you asked me three years ago if I'd imagine myself cheating on Ashley with Josh I probably would've slapped you." Chris notices his name written in the corner of a covered sheet of paper. "Everything is different."

"Sure is. Not that I condone cheating or retaliation cheating."

"You're a good kid, Sam." Chris puts on his best dad voice and she laughs, shaking her head.

"I'm not that good. I have definitely thirsted after your girlfriend before today."

"Now you can thoroughly thirst, cleanse the thirst. Take my blessing and be well."

Sam snorts, eyes glittering. "Thanks, Chris."

She punches his arm softly, moving away. Chris tugs the paper from underneath the pile, Josh's notebook sliding forward along with other sheets of paper. His thumb smudges where his name is written as he holds the page. It's him. Drawn in dark charcoal lines with no shading, aside from areas where the lines bleed, all different angles, all sharp and blunt. It's a style Chris has never seen before, at least not in Josh's sketchbooks. Ways he's never seen himself before.

The click of the door knob forces him out of his stupor and he quickly shoves the sheet back under everything. Josh appears, leaning against the door way, glass gone.

"Mom said I could go... If I keep her updated, text her when I take my meds.." Josh trails off, eyes tired and worn and Chris thinks him getting out of the house might really be good for him.

Sam claps her hands. "Hey that's great. Go where? My place?"

"With me." Chris supplies, feeling his face go hot.

Sam's smirk is back and her eyebrows are raised and it's an awful, almost motherly acknowledgement. She packs things for Josh, who sits on the floor drowsily telling her where things are.

Chris sits beside him, designated pill holder. It's a long plastic case, numbered black. There are three pills in most of the spaces, two in the corresponding spots.

"I take these at 12." Josh points to the first three pills. "All at once. One glass of water. Then," he yawns softly. "These at 4. Then the last three at 10."

"The last ones make you sleepy?" Chris points to the last two pills and Josh nods, reaching to grab Chris' hand.

"I can't sleep. It's hard." Josh admits, voice low, entertaining their fingers. "Everything is hard. Sometimes... I wish they would've left me in the mines."

Chris squeezes his hand. "It'll get better. I'll be here and Sam will be here. The others have been wanting to reach out but..."

"Just need some time, Cochise. " Josh murmurs, head resting on Chris' shoulder. He dozes off moments later, leaving Chris to watch Sam tuck neatly folded clothes into an old kanken.

"Sometimes I think about if they never found him," Sam rolls up a pair of socks. "Sometimes I think about how I didn't go back. I think about the hesitance in Josh's eyes when we asked for the cable car key. His last lifeline, his last importance to us. And I feel awful, so awful. We found him wandering the mines, shouting at things we couldn't see and I knew then that Josh wasn't leaving with us but I wanted to live. I wanted everyone to go home."

Sam sits on the bed, eyes squeezed shut and her shoulders shake. "I should've gone back, I could've. But I didn't and that makes me a coward. We all didn't make it back."

Chris breathes into the silence, limbs heavy and he bites his knuckle until it's red and throbbing.

"It's not just your fault, Sam. It was all of ours. You know that. Josh is... He's here now. We got a second chance."

"He's worse than he was before." Her voice is breaking, tears sliding down her face and Chris realizes this is the first time he's seen her cry. He wants to reach out and touch her. Through the window, there is a steady rain of snow.

"He's getting better. He's doing so well, Sam." Chris reminds her. "We just have to keep on him. We have to be better than we were."

Sam's head rises, nodding frantically as she shoves another pair of socks into the bag. It's nearly overfilled with clothing but Sam keeps fitting things inside it.

"You're right. I was just feeling sorry for myself."

"That's me. 80% of the time."

Sam chuckles, throat thick with feeling. "Shut up, Chris."

They wake Josh when she's done, bundling him up in a thick cardigan and scarf. Josh is hazy through it all, giggling when Chris tries to buckle him into the passenger seat. He holds Sam's hand a lot, telling her how great she is. Sam appears more grateful than she'd ever let on.

"Keep him close. Keep him safe. I have class tomorrow but I'll call, ok?" Sam claps Chris on the arm.

"Yes, mom.

"Shut up. I'm way too cool to be your mom."

Chris agrees easily. "Seriously Sam. Thank you."

Her eyes soften, a light blush collecting on her cheeks. She rolls her eyes, scoffs and heads to her car, which is her way of being embarrassed and if it wasn't so cold out Chris thinks she might've punched him again.

Chris slides into the drivers seat, clicking his seatbelt into place and turning the key in the ignition. The car roars to life, lights flickering on. Chris checks Josh, curled in the seat next to him, mouth slack and drooling, and he pulls off after Sam.

He keeps the radio low, an old Beastie Boys album playing, gaze focused on the road and the way his lights cut through the dark. Sam's lights glow faintly in the distance before disappearing down another road.

The drive is short considering it's an hours drive but Chris can't find himself complaining as he hoists Josh's pack onto his shoulder. He gently prods Josh awake, analyzing the slow way the other comes too. First it's in his body, the limp posture becomes frigid, then it's the face that scrunches into wordless breaths and finally the eyes, the narrow slits slowly assessing the surrounding before relaxing completely when they land on Chris.

Josh rubs his eyes. "We here?"

"Yeah, man. Do you need help? Want me to carry you?" Chris jokes, laughing at the glare he receives.

"'M not a baby, Cochise." Josh stretches widely, part of his scarf hooked behind his ear. He slips out the car, surveying their environment as he hobbles after Chris. Keys in hand, Chris unlocks his door, stepping aside. He ushers Josh in, who hesitates.

"Your apartment is different." Josh says, peering around the small living area. He kicks off his shoes, bare feet wiggling on the carpet before he disappears around the corner. Chris can hear the opening and closing of cabinets, then the fridge. He hears a couple of doors doing the same before Josh reappears in front of him.

"Can we watch a movie?"

Chris hands him his bag and shrugs out of his jacket. He nods wordlessly, hanging the garment on one of the empty racks nailed to the wall. Chris takes off another jacket, then a vest before he's only in a light grey long sleeve shirt with another shirt underneath. Josh smirks at him.

"You're still the same too." His words are warm, coating Chris' insides like honey. "We can watch Star Wars if you want. We always watch scary movies at my house."

Chris toes off his boots. "We can watch whatever. I'll probably fall asleep."

Josh hums, trailing after Chris into the living room. He tugs his scarf off with each step, hanging it over the couch as he plops down on it. Chris flicks on the tv, sinking down beside him. He immediately goes to Netflix, looking at his list of recommended titles before selecting Pontypool which earns a curious look from Josh. He shrugs in response.

Chris watches for the first fifteen minutes, eye lids drooping slightly every so often. His head feels heavy, rolling against the couch as he tries to wake up. Josh shifts beside him. Chris turns to ask 'what's up' but Josh is sliding into his lap, chest eye level with Chris' face as he adjusts. Chris hardly registers he's being kissed until a couple seconds into it.

He reaches up, sliding his hand underneath Josh's sweater, along the expanse of his back, the other coming to rest on the back of his neck and suddenly Chris is more awake than he was before. Josh's mouth is hot against his- scorching and needing and stroking languid movements as hands cup Chris' face. He angles his hips, pressing down with hard roll and Chris gasps into Josh's mouth, pressing down on his spine.

"You're good at that." Chris breathes, noses brushing and they're kissing again, limbs tangling as they shift on the couch. Josh is beneath him, lips wet and inviting. He gives Chris a questioning look.

"The hip thing."

"The hip thing." Josh repeats, mouth twitching in amusement. "I'm good at a lot of things. Right now, currently, making out is one of them."

"Put it on your resume." Chris snorts, bending down to capture Josh's lips again. He snakes a hand back under the other's sweater, touching every bit of skin he can feel, settling in between his open legs. It's a bit awkward as Chris' couch really isn't that big but Josh doesn't seem to mind being crooked in weird angles.

"Think I'll be suckin' a lot dicks when I go back to the real world?" Josh chuckles against him, biting at Chris' chin. His tongue flickers out, dry and rough and it's sliding along his ear in a way that makes Chris' entire body shudder.

"Better be sucking my dick." Chris responds easily, grinding down, Josh's thin sweats doing nothing to hide his erection. Josh hisses, nails biting into the side of Chris' neck and their kisses become more urgent, more teeth than lip.

"That's kinda gay, Cochise."

"No homo, bro."

Everything feels good and easy and right until Chris tries to take Josh's sweater off. The other tenses immediately, a shaky gasp escaping his lips. Josh whimpers, hands fisting into the collar of Chris' shirt and he's shaking his head. His eyes are round with fear, scrambling to sit up. Chris releases him, slinking back, arms raised to his head as he backs off. Josh curls against the arm of the couch, body wound up tightly and he's wrapping his arms around himself.

"I-I'm sorry. I can't. Chris. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

His voice is small, full of regret and longing and when Chris reaches out to touch him, Josh bursts into tears.

"I-I-I'm sorry I can't. I can't." He whimpers, allowing Chris to hold him. Josh shakes against him, crying softly into the sleeve of Chris' shirt while Chris whispers softly to him.

"This is okay. This is fine. We don't have to do anything. This is fine, Josh." Chris repeats over and over until Josh tires himself out. His eyes are red and puffy when Chris carries him to his bedroom. Chris sets him on the bed, handing him a shirt from Josh's bag to change into. He only does when Chris turns around.

"I'm sorry." Josh says softly, fingers fiddling with the end of his shirt. He doesn't look at Chris, only stares at the floor, at his feet.

"It's okay." Chris replies, kneeling down in front of him. He grasps the other's chin, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Josh kisses back, the confidence from earlier missing but it's meek and hesitant and good enough for Chris.

"You're not upset?"

"Nope, in fact I'm really tired. There's this hot guy in my room so I need to remove all my layers before I combust." Chris jokes, shedding out of his clothes.

Josh chitters behind him. "Must be Idris Elba."

"Nah, someone a bit smaller, bit lighter. Pretty cute. I'll introduce you guys." Chris pulls on an old shirt from high school and a pair of basketball shorts. He ushers Josh inside the covers, following shortly behind.

"That's gay, man. You're overly flirtatious. Is this how you are with all your girlfriends?" Josh presses their foreheads together, searching underneath the blankets for Chris' hand.

"Says the guy holding my hand."

"Shut up, asshole."

Chris kisses him softly. "Plus my exes would say I'm a scholar at flirting."

Josh laughs at that. "Did they write yelp reviews too?"

Chris pinches Josh's palm but that only makes Josh laugh harder. He smiles to himself in the darkness, Josh's hand in his, his laughter lighting up the room.

He's okay.