even if it hurts - cory & naveed

one

it's been a few weeks since what cory refers to as "the incident". (usually highlighted in green flashing neon, with a few foghorns attached and maybe some sirens, too) (and when naveed grins at him across a classroom, or pats him on the back, fireworks burst behind his eyelids. but he's trying not to think about that)
the problem is, he's got nothing to distract him; his dad's in a psychiatric unit out of town, and his brother's still in care; doesn't bother to visit him or call him or speak to him at school. so the house is empty and silent and it hurts cory's head, walking in through the front door to a house void of... well, anything. the fridge hums and the boiler clanks and the floorboards creak and it makes cory's skin crawl. bills that he has no idea how to pay are starting to pile up on the kitchen counter and the hot water's out again, so every evening he's got to boil the kettle a few times and take it up to the bathroom, pour the hot water into the tub and then clamber in. it's a horrible reminder of being a kid, except jordan isn't splashing around at the other end making himself a beard with the bubbles. there are no bubbles; he has to wash himself with a crusty old bar of soap he found at the back of the cupboard, and he's run out of deodorant, too. he probably reeks. he ought to go shopping, buy things like deodorant and soap and washing powder, but there's no money. he's completely skint.
he's coping, though. he's not begging outside tesco's yet. but then candice has to fuck it all up by knocking on the front door on saturday evening, and when he opens it, dumping jamie on him and running off down the front path.
"i'll pick him up tomorrow morning," she shouts, hopping into a taxi, and cory's left, stood on the doorstep, completely clueless.
jamie gurgles uselessly, and he carries him into the front room and dumps him on the sofa. he hasn't got a clue how to look after a baby; it's not like he's been to any of those parenting classes, hasn't read any books, nothing. he didn't even know the kid was his until a few weeks ago. candice hasn't left him anything, either; no nappies, no food, nothing. not even something for the kid to sleep in. the fact that he doesn't have a clue what to do just solidifies the fact that he's just like his father; completely useless and barely able to take care of himself, let alone a child. and he knows the answer to that problem; knows he should never have got candice knocked up, should have been responsible, should have kept it in his fucking pants. it's no wonder jordan hates him. he took away one of the only good things jordan had.
he looks down at jamie, curled up on the grubby sofa cushion, his face so innocent, so trusting. the kid's got cory's nose, and it makes something in his chest clench painfully. jamie never asked to be brought into this world, and is probably going to have a shit life because of the circumstances cory thrust upon him.
the house is an absolute shit heap; there's dirty plates and mugs stacked all over the kitchen counters and the coffee table, the bin is overflowing and there's a stain on the curtains that's growing suspiciously. cory hasn't bothered to check the cause.
he can't be arsed to do anything except just sit there, feeling sorry for himself. it's rather tragic, but cory reckons the world isn't going to end if he leaves the washing for one more day, right?
he figures he'll put the tv on and watch it with jamie until he falls asleep on the sofa. then candice'll come and pick jamie up and he can go back to being pathetic.
but at about half midnight, jamie starts crying. well, crying is a nice way to put it; he's actually sort of screaming at cory, who has no fucking idea what to do. he picks him up, pats his back. jamie continues to wail. he tries pushing a dummy in his mouth, but jamie spits it out and screeches indignantly.
"jesus fuck, what is wrong with you?"
cory decides to ignore him as best he can; maybe babies are like cats; he thinks. if you ignore them long enough they get bored and shut up.
after approximately twenty three minutes, though, it appears that's not the case. the batty old cow next door is banging on the wall, and cory's convinced he's starting to go mad. he paces up and down the living room, pleading with jamie to be quiet, go to sleep, please.
he puts his foot in a half-empty mug of coffee, tipping it onto the carpet, and after swearing the required amount, he has the brilliant realisation that maybe he ought to feed the kid.
babies drink milk, right? so he gets a bottle of milk out the fridge, checks it's in date. pours it into his sports bottle, figures that's the closest thing he's got to one of those bottles you feed babies with.
he slips it into jamie's mouth, and to his absolute joy, jamie starts sucking on the nozzle of the bottle.
but mid-victory dance, jamie starts making some concerning gurgling noises. and then he throws up all over the arm of the sofa, the carpet, and cory's left foot.
"shit! fuck, jamie, you twat, god- on top of everything else-"
to his horror, jamie starts wailing again.
"shit-jamie, i'm sorry, i didn't mean it- please don't cry," cory pleads. "i'm sorry, jamie- please stop crying, i didn't mean it, i just don't know what to do,"
and then he starts crying, too. plonks himself down next to jamie and starts sobbing into his hands.
he wipes his eyes and shakily tries to call candice, but she doesn't pick up and he curses loudly. there's another knock on the wall.
and so, in a moment of hopelessness/impaired judgment (he's willing to blame it on either) he calls naveed. naveed always knows what to do.
naveed picks up on the fourth ring, sounding groggy, like he's just woken up. well, he has, cory supposes. it is almost two in the morning.
"'ello? cory?"
"hi- i uh- candice left jamie, i don't- i don't know what to do, he won't stop, i can't-"
"give me twenty minutes."
thank god. cory wants to cheer, but he's exhausted, so bloody exhausted.
twenty minutes feel like an hour, but eventually there's a soft knock on the door and cory stumbles to answer it, tripping over his feet. he feels drunk, like someone's drugged him. and there's something beating through his veins, something fizzy and exciting and terrifying. his exhausted mind wonders if that's something to do with naveed.
-
cory opens the door looking completely exhausted, and falls onto naveed like he's water in the desert.
"bleedin' hell, cory. pair o' lungs that kid's got on him, eh? hear him right up the top of the road,"
cory smiles at him tiredly.
"the tesco's up the road were open, i assumed candice didn't leave you anything, so-" naveed holds up two shopping bags, "i bought nappies and stuff."
"god- thank you," cory murmurs, and then he's leading naveed to the living room.
naveed picks jamie up.
"god, he needs changing." naveed carries jamie into the kitchen and plonks him down on the table on his back and begins undoing the poppers on his little suit.
"how d'ya know what to do? i 'aven't got a clue."
"i've about thirty cousins, mate. this ain't the first time i've had to look after a baby."
jamie's stopped screeching; he's just mewling tiredly now, and cory stares down at him. he's red-faced and sort of... sticky, but cory supposes he is rather cute. seeing naveed play mummy with him sets something wonderfully painful off in his chest. his mind wanders to a scenario where he and naveed raise jamie together, somewhere far, far away from ackley bridge, maybe in a nice little terraced house with a trike and a swing set in the front yard for jamie to play with while he and naveed watch proudly from the doorstep...
he's snapped out of his reverie by naveed clicking his fingers in cory's face.
"hello, cory? you awake? pass us the wipes, mate."
"oh- uh. yeah. o' course."
"you ought to get to bed, mate. you're dead on your feet."
cory nods, because he's too exhausted to argue. and in a moment of dreamlike confusion, he presses forward and kisses naveed, before patting his chest and stumbling up the stairs to bed.
naveed just shakes his head and finishes cleaning jamie up.
later, when jamie's settled and he's started on all the dirty dishes, he reflects on how bizarre his life's become.
you kiss your best mate once, he thinks, and next thing you know you're changing his kid's nappy at two in the morning.
-
cory wakes up two hours later. the sky's getting lighter outside his bedroom window, and he starts to recall what's happened. starts thinking about the last few weeks. starts thinking about that night.
he and naveed haven't talked about it. he doesn't feel like he can; feels like bringing it up will cause him to hurt naveed even more. he can't do that, can't hurt naveed, who's been there for him despite all the shit he's repeatedly put him through. naveed, who always seems to know when something's up, who's there with a smile even when cory doesn't need him.
but cory does need him, and that's the cause of all of this. if cory didn't need him so, the house wouldn't be a tip, and he'd maybe have a clearer head to figure out how to look after his son.
but naveed skated into his life and flipped the whole thing upside-down, and he's no idea how to put it back.
but cory's not gay, he's not. he loves girls, loves how they look, how they flirt with him, how they make him feel. he's always loved girls, never questioned it, because that's the way it should be, right? he's not gay. he's normal. he plays rugby and shags girls and that's how it should be.
so why is naveed the one he calls at two in the morning when he doesn't know what to do? why is naveed the one who always knows how to fix things?
he clambers out of bed, rubs his eyes. hopes naveed hasn't gone home yet.
by some miracle, jamie's not crying anymore- cory briefly wonders how naveed managed that. maybe he just put the poor thing out of it's misery. cory grimaces.
he clambers down the stairs- the landing's pitch black, but there's light coming from the kitchen. the house is clean; naveed's actually cleaned up all of cory's mess. it's been sitting there for days, because he hasn't had the motivation to sort it all out. but naveed's done it for him. there's clean dishes drying by the sink, he's emptied the bin, and the washing machine is humming quietly.
and in the middle of it all, curled up on the sofa under his coat, is naveed. he's asleep, his head resting on his arm. his hair is messy, curling up off his forehead. cory's mind cuts to that night, running his hands through naveed's hair, the way naveed had smiled up at him, all soft and pliant.
he swallows and taps naveed's shoulder.
"mm- cory? what's up? is it jamie?"
"nah- mate, ya can't sleep on the sofa."
"it's okay; i don't feel right sleepin' in jordan's room."
"i've got a perfectly good bed upstairs. c'mon."
naveed looks unsure.
"we'll have to take the baby up too..."
"right good mum you'd make, eh?"
"i'm the mum, am i?" naveed looks up at him, challenging. mischief sparks in his eyes.
"shut up. c'mon, it's bloody freezing down here."
"you can say that again," naveed snorts, sliding off the sofa and stretching. cory tries to ignore the strip of coffee-coloured skin where naveed's t-shirt has ridden up.
naveed picks jamie up off the sofa cushion he's put on the carpet for him and carries him upstairs.
"what are we gonna put him in?"
"get a duvet or somethin', we'll put him in the bath."
"you what?"
"got a better idea?"
"not really, no."
they muck around trying to get jamie sorted and comfortable-
"how do you tell if a baby's comfortable?"
"when it's not crying."
"touché."
- and eventually fall into cory's narrow single bed, slotting together. naveed leans into cory's chest. it's a horrible reminder.
cory wishes he could shut his brain up, wishes he could stop thinking about what they did. wishes he could stop thinking about naveed.
"thank you," cory whispers. he feels so bloody guilty about all of this; naveed's done so much for him over the last few weeks, and he's repayed him by shagging shannon and yelling at him in front of his mates. he's as much of a useless friend as he is a useless father.
naveed nestles against him in response, resting his head in the dip between cory's neck and his shoulder.
eventually, cory falls into a fitful sleep, curled around naveed.
-
naveed's not sure what time it is when he wakes, but the sun's pretty high in the sky, casting a warm golden light through the thin curtains and into cory's room.
it's weird, being in cory's room again. not just because of what happened last time he was in here, but because the room itself is almost like a glimpse into cory's head.
parts of it are just like any teenage boy's bedroom; there's a few socks on the floor and a dumb football duvet cover. there's some trophies still displayed neatly on a shelf above the bed, and there's a few children's books on the bookshelves that look like they haven't actually ever been read.
there's a few torn posters on the wall- and that doesn't sit well with naveed. he wonders what would cause cory to rip something that he went to the effort to put up in the first place.
cory doesn't look so good these days- there's a near permanent line between his eyebrows, dark bruises under his eyes, and a vacant expression that doesn't seem to to shift. naveed wonders if it's his fault.
to be honest, cory looks like he's at the end of his rope, but not when he's asleep. he looks peaceful. naveed can't help but wonder what he's dreaming about.
he's shaken from his daydream by a knocking at the front door. he tries to clamber out of the warm duvet-cocoon they're wrapped in, but cory's arms snake round his torso and pull him back in.
"cory, mate, someone's at the door."
"mmm. get it later."
he snorts.
"i need to get the door!"
cory eventually lets him go, and he shuffles downstairs, pulling on cory's red hoodie on his way.
it's candice.
"oh- hi. naveed, isn't it? i didn't know you were round. cory's got my jamie, i'm here to pick him up."
"oh, aye. i'll just get cory to bring him down," naveed responds, and turns to go back up the stairs, but then he spins back to face candice.
"maybe next time bring some nappies with ya? or at least call before you dump the kid on 'im? he hasn't got a clue, y'know."
candice just rolls her eyes in response.
"cory, mate, candice is 'ere to pick the kid up!"
cory stumbles out of his room in his pants, pulling a shirt over his head. his hair's a mess and he's only got one sock on.
candice raises her eyebrows. "you only just woken up? 'ave you not fed jamie yet?"
cory, in response, shouts something unintelligible from the bathroom.
-
after candice has stalked back down the front path and plonked jamie in his pushchair, cory gets back into bed, and naveed wanders into the kitchen to find something to eat. he decides cory's had a tough night, and that he should let him sleep, wake him up later with the promise of some fried eggs.
once he's sat at the kitchen table, though, something odd descends on the house, a kind of peculiar atmosphere that feels like it'll blow the house away if naveed breathes too hard.
the weird feeling doesn't go away when cory eventually stumbles downstairs, sleep-warm and bleary-eyed.
"where's me hoodie? i can't find it," he mumbles, and naveed goes to take it off.
"oh, uh," cory starts, patting his shoulder. "you keep it on."
"aren't you cold?"
"o' course not."
naveed feels on edge, like cory'll snap if he says something wrong. cory won't, naveed knows he won't, because cory's stayed his mate through... well, everything. any other bloke would've run a mile, but cory's stayed, despite everything he's been through. naveed curses himself that it's not enough.
"i'm making some eggs, cor. want some?"
"we 'ave eggs? since when did we have eggs?"
"thank tesco extra for that. i were the only one in there."
"what are we gonna have 'em with? i don't have bacon or owt-"
"i can't have bacon, remember? but i got you some ham. lady at the till gave me a funny look," naveed responds, going to the fridge to get the ham out.
cory smiles at him.
"thanks, mate. you're a hero."
they dig into the eggs, eating in silence.
it's weird, how disjointed things have become. naveed naively hoped they'd go on pretending nothing happened like after the moment in the changing rooms, but it seems like it's all gotten too big for them to just move past. there's something he's been wanting to say for a long time, but he's struggling to find the words.
"cory."
"these are good eggs, mate. maybe comedy 'ent the route for you; maybe you oughta become a chef or-"
"cory."
"aye?"
"we need to talk about this at some point, y'know. we can't go on actin' like nowt's happened forever."
"what is there to talk about?"
naveed's stumped by his response.
-
cory really wishes naveed would let it go.
"you knew i liked you. you knew what it meant to me."
he can't look at naveed, can't see the hurt in his eyes. knows he'll spill his guts before the morning's through.
"i was drunk, i didn't know what i was doing," he pleads, desperate for naveed to just drop it, because he's not ready to face this yet, doesn't know if he'll ever be.
"that's bullshit, and you know it. you'd 'ad one drink."
naveed's staring at him, reproachful.
"i think you're scared."
cory stands up, marches his plate to the sink.
"i didn't call you here to lecture me."
"i think you're scared," naveed continues, because he's a stubborn shit. "i think you're scared of what you don't know. you've got this like, internalised thing going on, and-"
"i'm not gay!"
"but you're not straight, either."
cory swallows.
"you can like girls and boys, y'know. there's nowt wrong with that."
"i think you should go," cory starts, but his stupid traitor voice cracks and he looks down, retracts in on himself. he's so bloody transparent.
"it's okay to be confused, cory," naveed whispers, and he's closer than he was a minute ago. "it's okay." and then he's pulling cory against him and holding him tight and cory's sobbing into his chest, into the fabric of his own hoodie. he's reminded of naveed crying on him, just a few weeks ago, outside hayley booth's disasterous sixteenth birthday party. that night is what really changed everything.
in an ideal world, he and naveed would fix this. he would figure out what he wanted, and they'd sort it out, together.
but cory's just so damn scared.
"i'm scared, nav."
"i know you are," naveed says, quietly. "i've been there. and you're going to get through this."
-
cory's asleep, having cried. he's curled up small in his bed, and although he's over six foot tall, he looks like a little kid.
after some uncomfortable psychoanalysis on naveed's part, cory's confessed to what's going on in his head. and naveed isn't letting himself hope, not yet, because he let himself hope last time and cory went and slept with shannon, but naveed's going to be patient.
naveed attempts to encourage him to do some research into sexuality, but cory starts freaking out again and nav wonders if he's doing this for cory or for himself. and so he has assured him that he doesn't need to decide, yet. doesn't ever have to pick a label if he doesn't want to. labels don't always make things easier to figure out.
naveed calls nas from the wilson's kitchen.
"alright, nav? what's up?"
"i'm at cory's-"
"naveed. you 'aven't slept with him again, 'ave you?"
"no! but we talked."
"how'd it go? did he pull the whole 'i'm not gay blah blah blah' bollocks again or did ya manage to talk it through like adults?"
"he tried to, but then he started crying and-"
"he started crying? bloody hell, nav, what did you say to the poor boy?"
"god, i don't know. he's not doin' very well."
"sounds like it," nas laughs, and then someone says something on the other end.
"listen, nav, i've got to go, i'm at sam's."
"send the nazi my love, eh?"
"enough of that. yours is just as bad. don't do anything stupid, yeah?"
"i'll try not to."
naveed wonders if crawling into bed with cory counts as something stupid.
he has had a trying day, after all.