this has been said so many times (that i'm not sure if it matters)

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one (1816)

They sleep on the porch the first day of spring, before all the bugs get the message that winter is over and make sleeping outside unbearable.

Alfred watches them drag blankets and pillows down the stairs with a bemused smile, helps them spread the thick winter quilts out.

Riley makes up constellations and Cass makes up increasingly non-sensical stories for them. She curls further into the blankets as she gets sleepier, stealing what should be Riley's half of the covers.

Riley doesn't mind as much as he probably should. "Cass?"

"Hm?"

After a second of silence, she sits up on her elbows. Riley doesn't look at her.

"I love you, but I don't ever want to kiss you."

Cass nods, understanding perfectly. "Good. I don't want to kiss you either."


two (1820)

Riley feels sick every time someone looks at him and Cass together and asks in that nauseating grown-up tone if she's his 'sweetheart'.

Part of it is because they never direct that question to Cass. Or really acknowledge Cass much at all as anything other than arm candy.

But the bigger reason is that it just feels wrong. Riley loves Cass more than anyone in the entire world, but not that way.

He hates the implications in the smiles people give him when Cass leans her head against his shoulder, hates the way they always say but you like her, right? when he says that no, she isn't his sweetheart, hates the way people who don't know him or Cass always say that they'll come to their senses when they're older.

Riley knows Cass hates it just as much. 

They cut down on the affectionate little touches they give each other: stop ruffling each other's hair and leaning against each other and hugging in public. It's hard since they're both so tactile, but eventually, Riley stops reaching for Cass's hand when he wants her to follow him somewhere and Cass stops resting her head on Riley's shoulders. 

He hates this too, but at least it's better than people assuming things. He wishes they could just mind their own business. 

"This era of humans doesn't understand casual affection," Cordelia says pragmatically. "They're too concerned with propriety and societal roles to ever see you and Cass together and not think that you're in love. It's the only acceptable explanation, in their minds."

Riley shoots her a look. "I'm not in love with Cass, and I'm never going to be. Or with anyone, for that matter."

Cordelia studies his face for a moment before surveying the Congress floor again. "I know." 


three (1861)

There's a war that's threatening to rip the family in half when Cass drops her head onto Riley's shoulder and tells him that she's gay. 

Riley had kind of expected something like this after the whole thing with Caleb and the Cecilia-induced sexuality crisis, so he just kisses the top of her head. "I don't think I'm anything," he murmurs back, and Cass understands what he means to say without any clarification. 


four (1923)

The first time someone tells Riley that he's wrong, it's a psychologist the government has picked out to do the annual evaluations for the country.

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