Ineffable (boyxboy)

Incipient

A/N: incipient, adjective, beginning to happen or develop. Above, we have Zavier. <3

Matthias's Point of View:

I get home quite late - mum doesn't care too much, she gives me this freedom because she trusts me, and I don't let myself break that trust - not after my dad did.

I don't know what happened to my dad, but mum told me that he left on a business trip one day and never came back, and that, apparently, he died a few years later, and in the final years of his life, he was with another woman, all the way in China. Fucking asshole.

"Hi, mum!" I call. She comes out of the living room, the television still on. I smile.

"Matthias, how was school?" she asks, grinning.

I shrug, "The usual. This guy helped me with my CV and personal statement and I'm on the school council now."

"Congratulations, darling!" she hugs me tightly, and I hug back. Bless my mother's soul. She pulls away and smiles, "Renee is coming home from university next week, she rang me about an hour ago."

I grin. Renee's my older sister - she's nineteen and does Textiles at the University of Bath - that's apparently the eleventh hardest university to get into in all of Britain, so obviously, my mum was incredibly proud; as was I. It's quite far from London, though, so we only see her a few times a year.

"That's great to hear, mum!" I say and then go upstairs to change. I check my phone. A text from Adriana asking me out, a Facebook message from Oliver, my partner for the science project, asking me if I've done my half of the work. I snort. The likelihood of me doing homework? Probably about one percent.

I swipe through my notifications boredly, stopping when I come to a particular one. A friend request from Zavier Aman. Zavier Aman, the Zavier that helped me with my CV? Who knew he'd have a Facebook account? I guess nerds do have a social life! I chuckle and accept it before going downstairs for dinner.

Mum and I make idle chit-chat as I eat my food - jacket potato, a dish that mum only makes when she can't be bothered. I like her cooking though, so it's not an issue. After dinner, I wash the dishes for her - it's kind of an unspoken rule, she cooks, I wash the dishes. It's only fair; I can't be a lazy-ass while she works hard.

After washing the dishes, I sit down on the sofa, pulling out the recliner and go on my laptop. I browse through Twitter and photos I've been tagged in on Facebook. I pause for a moment and type out a message to a certain someone - you guessed it, Zavier.

[Message] hey!

Zavier's Point of View:

I'm typing up Matthias's CV on Microsoft Office Word when I hear the signature message alert of Facebook. I minimise the draft of his CV and check the message. My heart practically leaps into my throat. Matthias? He messaged me - wait, wait, he even accepted my friend request?

[Message] Hi, Matthias. :)

I type out after a bit of hesitation. His response is almost instantaneous.

[Message] how are you?? hope my cv's not giving you too much trouble :P

[Message] No, of course not! I'm fine, yourself?

"Zavier!" my mother calls from the stairs. Now, if I was a good Muslim son, I wouldn't groan or answer in the annoyed tone that I do, but... honestly? I'm not sure if I really am a Muslim. I can't tell anyone in the community though - that would not only result in me being shunned, but mother and father would have even more reason to call me a disappointment. "Can you come down here? Your father would like to speak to you!"

I sigh and trudge downstairs. Whenever father wants to talk to me, it's something negative - I don't think I've ever heard him say something positive about me.

"Zavier!" he barks. I jump and fix my posture. 

"Yes, father?" I say, feigning politeness. I really don't like being around my family... they're such a negative influence and I like to surround myself with positivity. I'm an introvert too, which is apparently 'unattractive' to the ladies.

"I hear you haven't been putting enough enthusiasm into your mosque classes at the weekend, and even going to the extent of challenging the teacher with science." he says, in a falsely calm voice. Shit, I'd forgotten about that.

"Oh.. yeah. I was being enthusiastic in my challenges though.." I murmur.

A flash of anger crosses his face, "What did you say?"

"N-nothing." I stammer. For heaven's sake, I'm so powerless against them.

"Science, Zavier! Science! What's more reliable? The Quran, which are the words of the Lord himself, or science, a human discovery?"

Science, I think. "The Quran." I say.

"Exactly." he says, triumphantly. "So, I won't be hearing you challenge it again, will I?" he asks. I shake my head. "Good. Now go." he says and I scarper upstairs.

[Message] i'm good!

[Message] dude, you okay? you've been gone a while.

[Message] ah i'm gonna get to bed, see you, make sure you're not dead :P

I sigh. Maybe if my father hadn't called me downstairs, Matthias would have stayed online and - what am I talking about? Homosexuality is a sin! I don't love Matthias, no, it's just the concept of someone wanting to talk to me is strange and making me act irrationally. Yeah, that's it...

[Message] Sorry, my father needed to talk to me. Sleep well.

I finish off Matthias's CV and then climb into bed, relishing the warmth of the thick blanket around me.

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Matthias's Point of View:

"Oliver, look, I did, maybe half of what I was meant to. I just really don't understand biology!" I explain to Oliver, who looks like he could rip out handfuls of my hair.

"There's a thing called Google, Matthias! You literally just had to copy and paste information and change a few words! Fucking hell!" he says and slams the side of his fist into a locker before storming off. Oops?

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn around. Ginger hair - I don't have to look at his face before I know it's Zavier.

"Hey! What's up?" I ask. "Hope your dad didn't give you an earful or anything!"

He gives a small smile, "No, it's fine. He was a bit angry though." he laughs. "Here's your CV. I hear you need help with biology?" he asks.

"Yep." I say, nodding sheepishly.

"I'd be happy to tutor you, for a small fee." he says.

I grin, "Yeah, that's better than having some weirdo old lady tutor me!" I laugh. "How much?"

"Shall we say... five pounds an hour? I think my time and knowledge is worth it."

"Deal."

A/N: Oooh, cute tutoring sessions time! Tune in next time, everyone! <3