Everything was quiet. Not the unsettling kind of quiet you remember from childhood, when the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention and you feel like something, somebody is watching you from every angle. Creeping along behind you, just waiting for you to let your guard down. That was a deafening quiet, a dangerous quiet, a quiet where every bad thing you ever feared lurked right in the shadows and could get you, would get you, if you so much as dared to blink.
This was not that kind of quiet.
This quiet was peaceful, sweet, welcoming, and warm. The kind of quiet you feel when you're lucky enough to find that one person. You know the one. The person that makes you feel complete, so unbelievably complete, like you'd been born split in half and hadn't realized it until you met them. That beautiful, wonderful, soul-encompassing, blissful quiet of being with somebody who loves you. Somebody you love back.
Kevin Price wasn't good with quiet. He hated it. Quiet allowed the self-doubt his parents had beaten into him to resurface, bruising his heart as much as his body. He always fought against it, drowning it out with voices, jokes, and noise, anything to keep from being overwhelmed. If he was lucky, someone would laugh, and acknowledge him, and the quiet in his mind would recede a little more.
When the right person started laughing and acknowledging him, Kevin clung to him. He picked on him, teased him mercilessly, and you know what? That redhead gave it all right back. He complimented Kevin's stupid jokes, called him out when he went too far, and laughed at all his voices before telling him how bad they were.
Connor McKinley was the one for Kevin. And that didn't mean he loved him, no. Kevin Price did not love Connor McKinley in the beginning, at least not in that way. He loved how Connor always fought back, how he looked small and fragile but was a ball of spitfire and sharp comebacks, how he would call Kevin an idiot but then help patch him up after Kevin did something incredibly stupid and got hurt.
No, Kevin didn't love Connor in the beginning. But he did now. Now, with limbs tangled and fingers clasped together. Now, with Connor's head resting on Kevin's chest because he liked to hear Kevin's heartbeat. Because he liked to hear the rumble of his voice when he spoke and the quiet of his breath. Because Kevin felt warm and solid and real, and Connor liked to trace the freckles scattered across his throat. Connor didn't even have to look anymore; he'd played with those patterns so many times, he knew their placement by heart.
Kevin rested his head on the top of Connor's, basking in the warmth, care, and love he felt from the boy in his arms. Outside was cold and cruel and unforgiving, and he wouldn't have left the safety of Connor's room, of Connor's embrace, for anything.
Not yet.
Not until the sun came up and glistened through the frost on the window. Not until Connor held onto him tighter, tighter, and begged for just a few more minutes, and Kevin would hate denying him even five more minutes.
Kevin thought of the days to come. Of their upcoming departure to America. Of the promise of a new life on the horizon.
Of the acceptance letter delightfully weighing down his pocket. Of the tears on Connor's cheeks last night because Kevin had got in, of course he got in, he was so smart. They were going to leave their homes and never look back. Leave and live and be together. That was the plan, and people would try to stop them, saying they didn't know what they were doing or that they were too young to know what they wanted.
But Kevin knew what he wanted, and he had his arms wrapped around it. When Connor craned his head to look up at Kevin, eyes shining with intensity and soul-searing adoration, Kevin was certain that he was what Connor wanted, too. No doubt about it.
Kevin bent to press his mouth to Connor's. Connor, who leaned up and into him, aching to be closer. His hand slid along Kevin's throat and up into his hair to play with the soft curls at the base of Kevin's neck. He hummed in appreciation, in love, in desperate need for more. More kisses, more closeness, more Kevin. That was fine, Kevin would give Connor all he had to offer because he knew Connor would do the very same. He always had. He always would.
Everything was quiet. Peaceful, sweet, welcoming, warm quiet, and for once, Kevin didn't mind the quiet. Not now. Not anymore.
Kevin Price felt complete.
