Gemini

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Again, all character drawings by me. Thanks for reading!

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Three weeks later

Baby huffed, trying to keep his guitar and amp from touching the ground as he made his way to the bus stop. Stupid Oliver, having to eat dinner with his family. In the past couple weeks, Baby had gotten used to depending on Oliver for rides.

Oliver. Baby smiled just thinking about him.

The last boyfriend he had, Joan Peters, had been almost thirty years old. Baby had been fifteen. Joan had promised to take care of him, and fifteen year old Baby hadn't known that 'take care' meant fuck relentlessly then occasionally take out on a date to drink beer at Golden Corral. Baby shivered at the memory of getting pushed up against a dirty bedroom wall, trying not to cry as Joan grunted above him. He'd thought that was what sex was, back then. He'd thought that was what sex was for years. And then his dad went to prison, he moved into the system, and he learned that he was Not Normal.

Not normal. Screw 'em.

Baby sighed, hitching his guitar higher onto his back as he watched the bus approach.

Oliver was normal. Oliver was the perfect kind of normal, the sweet kind that talked with a bite of sarcasm and asked before he kissed. The kind that could quote Shakespeare but couldn't do his own laundry. The kind that wanted to be Baby's boyfriend simply because he thought Baby was beautiful, inside and out.

He'd never had someone like that before.

Baby smiled to himself, pulling out his phone. He was on the bus, heading downtown in the light of the streetlamps. He coughed, rather loudly, and checked to make sure no one on the bus was looking at him. Luckily it wasn't too populated. He coughed again, feeling the twinge deep in his chest. Shaking himself out of it, he focused down on the phone.

me: omw. need help carrying stuff in

red: i'll be outside

Then, Baby opened a much more interesting conversation.

me: omw downtown. when r u coming

Oliver replied almost immediately.

idiot: finishing up here, the parentals are driving me NUTS

me: at least they're not trying to murder you

idiot: they don't know i'm gay lmao watch that change in a flash

Baby bit his lip at his phone. He didn't like when Oliver talked about his parents, he always felt out of his depth and awkward. Like he couldn't offer the right advice. He couldn't remember if he'd ever eaten dinner with his parents, even as a child. So offering advice on how to deal with  parents that you were too close to was out of Baby's realm of expertise. His only advice would be to run away and couch hop. But that hadn't worked out too well for him.

me: oliverrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

idiot: what

me: i wrote a song for you

idiot: wait

idiot: wait WHAT

idiot: tonight????

idiot: you're playing it tonight????????????????????

Baby giggled, tucking his feet up under him on the seat.

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