Rating: PG-13 for sexual references
Fandom: The War At Home
Pairing: Larry/Kenny
Summary: Larry and Kenny spend a night on the couch.
*****
Kenny wakes up to see Sam and Frodo clinging to each other on Mount Doom. He’s shivering, and has to fumble in the dark to find the edge of the blanket. When he tugs it up to his shoulders, he dislodges the remote, and has to snatch at it quickly to stop it tumbling to the floor. Once he has a firm hold on it, he turns off the TV.
On the other sound of the couch, Larry is snoring gently.
Deep in the pit of his stomach, something starts bubbling. He hasn’t felt like this in a long while; this sweet sort of fizzy when he’s with Larry and no one else is there. The way he used to feel, before everything got so messed up.
He nudges Larry’s bare feet with his own under the blanket, and smiles.
The only light in the room comes from the streetlight outside, and the orange sodium glow picks out the chestnut brown in Larry’s hair. He wants to reach over and trace the curls, but if he moves he’s going to wake Larry. Instead, he pulls the blanket up to his chin and indulges in a soft sigh.
Maybe it’d be nice to go back to the way things used to be. If he couldn’t remember what it feels like to hold Larry’s cock in his mouth, or the way Larry looks right after he comes, maybe it’d be easier being around Larry. The old days of moping around, wondering, seem so…innocent somehow, even though he’s done things in the past couple of months that he‘d longed for desperately.
Kenny jumps when the stairs light clicks on. He cranes his neck to see Mrs Gold tip-toeing down the stairs in her nightdress and robe; he slips a hand out from under the blanket and gives her a wave to let her know he’s awake. She smiles at him, and crosses the room to stand behind the couch.
“Enjoy your movie?” she whispers, laying a hand on his shoulder. He nods. “I’m getting a glass of water. You want anything?”
“No, thank you.” Kenny offers her a lop-sided grin, and she ruffles his hair before heading to the kitchen.
He listens to her rattling around in the cupboards for a glass, and tries not to think what might have happened if one of his own parents had found him sharing a couch and blanket with Larry.
Kenny flexes his right foot, toes stroking over Larry’s ankle.
Larry snuffles and opens one eye. Kenny waggles his fingers at him, and Larry smiles.
“We missed the end, huh?” Larry’s voice is adorably sleepy. Kenny nods. “Maybe we shouldn’t have tried to do all three extended editions. I’m sure we could have done all three theatrical editions, but the extended ‘Return of the King’? That one’s a killer.” Larry shifts to sit up straight, and his feet slip out of Kenny’s reach. As he moves, he notices the light on. “Is someone else up?”
“Your mom’s in the kitchen.”
At that, Mrs Gold comes back into the living room, glass of water in hand.
“Hey, sweetie. I didn’t wake you, did I?” She frowns at her son, head cocked to one side in concern.
“No, mom. I just dozed off. I’m fine.”
Mrs Gold stops by the couch to kiss Larry’s forehead, then Kenny’s. He tells himself she doesn’t really spend an extra second studying his face; he’s imagining the suspicion in her eyes.
Once she’s upstairs and the light is off again, he looks at Larry, lit only by the streetlight shining through the window.
“You wanna put the DVD back on and watch the end?” Larry asks. He searches the blanket between them for the remote, questing hands brushing over Kenny’s feet.
“That’s okay,” he answers. “I think I’ve had enough of Middle Earth for one night.” He rests his head against the back of the couch.
“But you love Lord of the Rings.” Larry’s voice, still kind of dozy, sounds worried.
“I just…” He’s getting fed up of having to explain himself lately. “I haven’t watched it since Dylan.” Automatically, he glances over at the smaller couch where they sat side by side watching ‘Fellowship’ and talking about Viggo Mortensen.
Larry fidgets for a moment.
“Do you miss him?”
He remembers Larry asking him this, months ago. This time, Larry’s oddly nervous, like he’s afraid of the answer.
“Not so much, now.” He sighs. “It was never really anything serious.”
“You don’t talk about him.”
“What’s to say?”
“Well, what was he like? I mean, I know the three of us hung out a few times, but I didn‘t know him like you did.”
Kenny purses his lips and thinks for a moment.
“He was sweet. We had fun. Watched a lot of movies together - he had a real thing for Viggo Mortensen, so I had to watch that crappy Psycho remake a few times.” He chuckles at the memory, then, feeling a little nostalgic, tells Larry, “He said I had soulful eyes.”
It’s hard to see Larry’s expression. He thinks Larry might be smiling, but he can’t be sure.
Then, after a moment, Larry asks, “Was he a good kisser?”
Kenny’s eyebrows raise, and he’s glad it’s too dark for Larry to see that he’s caught unaware.
“I guess. I mean, it’s not like I have anyone to compare him to.”
“Really?” Larry’s voice squeaks in surprise, and Kenny realises things are really bad if Larry thinks he’s inexperienced.
“Hey, it’s not like there’s that many guys at school I could have kissed. I don’t have the opportunities you straight guys have.” He laughs to let Larry know he’s not serious. “I guess Dylan was good. We didn’t…you know, do anything besides kiss.”
He wonders what that says about him and Dylan. He never got his hands in Dylan’s pants, but then he’s never kissed Larry. It’s hard to say which he’d prefer.
“So if he was…you know, if you liked him, how come you guys broke up?” There’s enough light for him to know Larry’s not looking at him, but studying the blanket covering his knees.
Kenny breaths deep through his nose, deciding in a moment of recklessness that maybe honesty is the best way out of this conversation.
“I guess I wasn’t really into him.”
“What d’you mean?”
“I was kinda thinking about someone else at the time.”
“You didn’t tell me.” Larry stretches out a leg and nudges Kenny’s foot; he sounds sad, and it makes Kenny want to smile.
“I didn’t tell anyone. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it, anyway.” He nudges back, and they exchange playful kicks for a moment.
“Kenny?”
Larry’s hands are in his lap, and he picks at a thumbnail.
“Yeah?”
“You can tell me when there’s someone you like. It won’t freak me out or anything.”
In the dark, Kenny allows himself a mirthless smile.
“I promise, if I meet anyone else I like, I’ll tell you.”
It’s not a lie, not really. He hears Larry give a quiet little laugh, then a huge yawn.
“You wanna go upstairs?” Larry asks.
“I’m comfortable here.” He stretches out, resting his head on the arm of the couch, being careful not to kick Larry. After a moment, Larry does the same, his feet resting by Kenny’s shoulder. Feeling brave, Kenny puts an arm around Larry’s leg.
“Don’t tickle!” Larry warns, but Kenny just laughs and closes his eyes. In a few minutes, Larry’s asleep, and Kenny listens to his faint snores with a sad smile.