Rating: PG
Pairing: Larry/Kenny
Summary: Follows straight on from 'No Easy Way To Say'. Kenny tries to get over Larry.
Author's Note: Kenny's real name, Khalil, is mentioned in season two's 'Gaza Strip'. I googled the name to confirm the spelling and found that the Arabic meaning of the name is 'friend'. Which only makes me love the writers of this show even more.
*****
Weak winter sunlight is just beginning to creep through the window. Kenny pulls the blankets up over his head and tries to ignore the sound of footsteps on the stairs. His head feels too small, like his brain is being smooshed and will start to dribble out of his ears at any second.
For the third time this month, he swears he’s not going to sneak out to Club Hedonism ever again.
The footsteps pause outside his door. He slows his breathing, pretending he doesn’t hear the polite knock on the door and willing himself back to sleep.
A moment later, there’s another knock. Curious, he peeks out from under the blankets. His father wouldn’t bother to knock twice and his mother would just walk right on in without knocking at all.
“Come in.”
And then there’s Larry, all worried smile and fidgety hands, hovering by his bed trying not to ask the obvious question.
“How late is it?” Kenny asks as he sits up. His voice is scratchy; the inside of his mouth tastes sour.
“It’s almost ten,” Larry tells him after a glance at his watch. Without invitation, he sits on the edge of the bed. Kenny tries, as discretely as he can, to move out of Larry’s reach. “You’re not sick, are you? You don’t usually sleep this late. I think your mom was kinda worried about you still being in bed.”
He scrubs a hand over his face, wiping his eyes and hoping his hair isn’t too sleep-squashed.
“No, I’m not sick.”
“Then how come you slept so late?” Larry brushes at a non-existent mark on his pants.
“I was out late,” he confesses. Strangely, it’s hard to look Larry in the eye. It’s not like they tell each other absolutely everything, and he’s never really thought of going out as any kind of big secret (except from his parents). But somehow this is awkward, and he knows Larry’s going to be upset.
“Out? Who with?” He’s right - Larry does sound hurt.
“No one.” Which only makes Larry look more confused. “I mean, I went out by myself.”
“Where’d you go?”
“Club Hedonism.” And yeah, there it is; that smacked-in-the-face look that can only mean Larry feels utterly betrayed by his best friend. Kenny tries his best ‘I’m sorry’ smile, but it doesn’t help.
“You went to the club by yourself? Isn’t that kinda dangerous?” Which isn’t quite the response he was expecting, and somehow that makes things worse - Larry all concerned about his safety when he ought to be angry at Kenny for keeping things from him.
Things like his first solo visit to the club, when he stayed just long enough to drink one beer and ignored everyone who looked at him. Or his second, when he danced with the fifth guy who asked, because that guy looked nothing like Larry. Or the way he introduced himself as Khalil to the blonde who said he had “gorgeous eyes” and pressed his hips against Kenny when they danced, and kissed him once before he ran out of the club.
“I’m okay,” he assures Larry.
“Yeah, but Kenny, you don’t know what could happen in a place like that.” Larry frowns at him. “I mean, you’re sneaking into clubs, coming home late. You’re turning into my sister!”
Kenny snorts laughter, until he realises Larry didn’t mean it as a joke.
“It’s not like this is a regular thing,” he argues, fidgeting with the blankets because it’s easier than looking at Larry.
“So last night was the first time you went back?”
“No.”
Oh, God. He really is a terrible friend. Larry’s going to hate him, Larry’s going to walk out of his room and refuse to speak to him ever again.
Except Larry doesn’t. Larry keeps on sitting on the bed, looking small and crushed and in desperate need of a hug.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I mean, I could’ve gone with you.”
Oh, oh God, this is just too much. He is the worst person ever.
“I think this was something I had to do by myself.” And damn if that doesn’t make Larry even more confused. Kenny’s head is thumping, and now he feels nauseous. He suspects that has nothing to do with whatever he drank.
“Do what? Why’d you go back? I thought you didn’t like it.”
“Because you were right.”
“I was?” Larry manages the faintest hint of a smile. “Wait. What was I right about?”
“I should have a boyfriend.”
After a moment, Larry nods in understanding.
“Did you meet anyone?”
He remembers close-cropped blonde hair, sharp hip-bones and the taste of liquor, warm whispers in his ear about his “gorgeous eyes” and his “sexy name”.
“No.”
Larry shifts, uncomfortably.
“Are you gonna go back?”
Kenny tugs at the blankets, pulling them up around his shoulders.
“I don’t know. I mean, where else am I supposed to go to meet guys? It’s not like I can just take my pick of the guys at school.” Like he’d even want to.
Larry thinks about this for a while.
“I guess that makes sense. I just don’t know if I like the idea of you going to a club by yourself.” Larry looks at him in that innocent way that makes him hate himself. What was he thinking, sneaking out of the house? Keeping something like this from his best friend? He remembers Larry, all squeaky, asking why Kenny came out to Mr Gold before him.
Ignoring his plans to find a way to get over Larry, Kenny pulls an arm out from under the blankets and takes hold of Larry’s hand.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I guess I figured you wouldn’t want to go. I know how uncomfortable you were last time we went.” It seems to help; Larry smiles, and it looks real.
“I’d rather go with you than you go by yourself and have something awful happen to you.”
It’s tempting, it really is. The thought of Larry close by his side as he tries not to be intimidated by the patrons and the atmosphere of Club Hedonism makes his kind of fuzzy inside, and he pictures Larry’s nervous-but-brave face as the two of them dance together.
But he’s supposed to be getting over Larry, and he can’t do that if Larry’s right there. If Kenny takes him back to the club, he knows he won’t even look at the other guys there.
“I’m fine,” Kenny assures him, bracing himself for the pain on Larry’s face.
Larry lets it show for just a second or two before he’s smiling and telling Kenny it’s cool.
They spend the day playing video games in Larry’s room. It’s nice. Safe. And in a weird way, it almost feels like Kenny’s saying goodbye.