Like Gods

[25] the opposite of cutting ties

"I really like your hair," Dylan said, petting Chris's dark waves. He was sitting cross-legged on the bleacher with Chris in the same position in front of him, and while he didn't keep track of the time, he had a feeling that they'd been sitting there for a good while by now.

"Thanks?" Chris chuckled. Dylan's eyes lit up as he got an idea.

"Wait," he grinned and rolled up one of his sleeves, pulling a hair tie from his wrist.

"You carry a hair tie around?" The dark-haired boy laughed. Dylan shrugged.

"Felicia needs them sometimes, especially in Chem," Dylan answered, "lean forward, will you?" 

Chris did as he was told and Dylan took a gentle hold of the dark hair. He twisted the elastic around a few times before letting go to inspect his work. Chris sat up straight again and lifted a hand to feel his new hairstyle.

The best way to describe the masterpiece that Dylan had created was: 'wannabe unicorn'. At least according to himself. The hair really did stand up like a horn emerging from Chris's scalp.

"Really?" Chris laughed and Dylan nodded. 

"Looks cute," he grinned, biting his lip, which only made Chris laugh even more. Once he'd calmed down, he leaned forward to capture Dylan's lips with his own. The kiss only lasted a moment, though, as Dylan pulled back after a few seconds.

"I gotta ask you something..." 

Chris hummed, looking a bit confused. 

"Will you tell me about your brother?" Dylan mumbled. The words from their walk toward the Lookout echoed in his head, and at that time he'd said that he didn't need to know, but he now realized that that had been naive of him; he had always been very curious by nature, after all. "Only if you're comfortable with doing it, of course," he added.

"The whole story or what I tell everyone else?" 

"The whole story, not that I know what you tell everyone else." 

Chris sighed. "He's not a bad person, you know. Or... he wasn't a bad brother. And by that, I mean that he was great. Mom and dad were always working when I was younger, they still do, and Sam was the one to play and take care of me most days."

"We did everything together when I was a kid..." there was a pause, "I never asked too much about the trial, and sometimes I regret not going. I should have, since mom and dad didn't. Dad was just mad that he had to spend his money on a lawyer. And about the trial...From what I heard, there was a, and I quote, 'substantial amount of evidence'. I was really surprised." 

Dylan listened quietly. In the pit of his stomach, a gnawing knot had started to form. 

"I didn't mean to cut him off when he went to prison, it just kind of happened, I mean, he was still my brother. Now... I don't know how to reconnect." 

"I'm really sorry," Dylan breathed. Chris gave a light shrug but didn't say anything else for a while. Dylan took the opportunity to wrap his arms around the other, sighing into the warmth that the action brought. 

"So," Chris spoke, slowly untangling himself, though they were still sitting huddled close together, "about Saturday-" 

"It's my turn," Dylan cut in, "though I can probably not trump the date that you orchestrated, I was thinking you could come over and we could watch a movie. I could cook." 

"You cook?" Chris raised his eyes.

"Well," Dylan stretched the word and Chris chuckled, "fine, I admit, I won't cook, but we could order take out."