The Secrets We Keep. Part 3/?

[PaperThings]

A/N: It's been a while since I wrote something, and I know I left about three stories unfinished. Sorry about that . It's just, I needed a sort of fun break from NaNoWriMo, and this idea's been nagging me for a while. I know the first chapter is fluff - I promise, it gets much darker/fantasyish. Ignore the cheesy title.

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Part I

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Swinging his gaze over the hall in scrutiny, Rodger at last stepped forward to dig the key from the dusty mat. He operated well under secrecy, even silly surprises like this. Discretion was no new practice. He tossed the dull scrap of metal into his left hand and undid the lock, swift and quiet.

"...Gideon?" he whispered, taking a cue from the dim lighting. "You around?" He felt a nerve pulse under his throat, fear of the old classic: guy lies and says he's sick to get out of a date. Typical. But... Gideon would never. He relaxed when he spotted the furled mass on the sofa, a smile greasing his eyes to his chin. "Hey, Gid," he said gently. Careful as can be, he sat himself on the tattered corner of the sofa, blue eyes dipped low with love. "Gid," he said, taking his boyfriend's smaller hand between his own.

Gideon's dark eyebrows shifted, and he slowly emerged from the fogginess. "Hey," he muttered, throat scratchy. "What - what are you doing here?" Dark eyes glazed with fever, he coughed as he tried to sit.

"Shh, don't move," Rodger said, grinning in spite of himself. "I just figured, if you were sick and alone, I'd come take care of you." Ignoring the price of the collared shirt he wore, he reached up to dab sweat of Gideon's olive skin. "How are you feeling?"

Gaze downcast, as if embarrassed, Gideon shrugged. "Okay, I guess." He tugged the squirmy blanket back over his legs and sighed, words underlined with a thick stuffiness. "I wish you hadn't come," he murmured, biting his lip. "I don't want to get - "

Rodger spoke right over him, bending to unzip the messenger bag at his feet. "How's your grandma?"

Both their ears buzzed in the silence, as Gideon tried to gather together an answer. All his life, he had lived with his father and his grandmother. They'd never been sure of his mother's identity, as his dad used to get around a lot. Then, a little under eighteen years ago, he had found an infant on his doorstep. The surprising part was how natural he'd been at fatherhood. "...Not good."

The bag was instantly forgotten, and Rodger turned to take Gideon's hands. Meeting the smaller boy's eyes with a sincerity only he could manage, he spoke softly, "I'm sorry."

Gideon shrugged. "Thanks." The sleep had left him snifflier than before, and he rubbed at his unruly mass of muddy hair.

"So," Rodger said, recognizing the desire for a change in subject. "I have soup, tea, tissues. I didn't bring any movies, because I know how much you hate everything I own." He smirked. Gideon liked stories about people, humanity. Movies to make you laugh or cry. Rodger was more interested in the artistic side of film-making.

"This is really nice of you," Gideon said, sheepish. "I - I might not be great company, though. I -"

"You're always great company, Gid," Rodger said, his heart aching around the corners. Gideon refused to ever feel good about himself. Sometimes, Rodger wondered why. "Besides, I'm your boyfriend. Your well-being is my job."

"I want to get better," Gideon said softly. "So I can visit her." The words were simple, but Rodger knew they were hard for him to say. In his own way, Gideon was as introverted as a sealed envelope. While Rodger had his secrets, of course, he was actually the less guarded of the two.

"I know you do," he replied, and they locked eyes for a fraction of a second. "Anyway, I actually can't stay too long. I have a dinner for my dad's thing tonight."

"Oh. If you want to get ready, you know, you really don't have to st - "

"But," Rodger interrupted, "I am really sorry about that, and I promise to come back right after. Deal?" This drew a smile, and Rodger was glad. "Here, let me make you more comfortable." He draped his long, toned arm across Gideon's shoulder and pulled him forward, deftly rearranging the swarm of pillows. "Is that better?" Glancing back to his boyfriend, he noticed the sudden knots in Gideon's temple. "You okay?"

"Yeah... just..." Apparently at a loss for words, he extended one hand towards the box of tissues.

"Oh! Sorry," Rodger said, leaning forward. He kept an arm around Gideon as he tried to undo the plastic wrapping, and felt his back begin to heave. From the corner of his chloric eyes, Rodger watched with dark fascination as Gideon's innocent face crept nearer and nearer to a slated edge. At last, his eyes over-damp with tears, the innocuous tip of his nose spurted out, "Eht-tish!" His buildups were always silent, pained gapes that caused his skin to fracture with embarrassment. He caught the first against his wrist, and the second in his cupped hand. "K'shhh! T'hhischh!" They unzipped the attempt at stifle with their force, hoarse enough to make Gideon wince in pain. "Shit," he muttered, scrubbing his red eyes. "Sorry."

His red t-shirt still rose and fell with uneasiness, his breath still frazzled. "Don't be sorry," Rodger replied easily, finally pulling out a tissue. "Bless you." He pulled out a handful and pressed them into Gideon's hand.

"Thanks," Gideon said, sounding so meek that Rodger's protective edge shot up. Ignoring the flush in Gideon's cheeks, and the impending secondhand of his watch, he tugged the boy against his chest. "Go back to sleep, okay? I promise I'll wake you up before I go."

Too tired to fight it, Gideon nodded and let the world blur. There was a comfort in Rodger's strange softness, and he let it sweep over him in one full motion. Smiling, ignoring the time, Rodger pressed a kiss to Gideon's forehead. They were so happy. Why ruin it with the truth?

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I suddenly have this desire to start like a million sfics. Ugh, so not good, if I ever actually want to finish another project. Anywho, I would ADORE your feedback, so please comment if you can . Thanks a lot guys!

[Zane]

This sounds so interesting so far! hope you continue.

[ichixshiro14]

This plot is charming, I love it! Are you going to continue it? I hope so!

[Ciuty80]

i always loved your stories!

and i really like what i read here

please go on PLEASE

[dumpling]

Ooooh I really like this

Please continue

[PaperThings]

A/N: Um, so, recently, I realized that I never updated this. And I actually had a whole second chapter saved and everything. So... here it is? I hope you like it? I'm so sorry it took me ages , but that's not exactly a new thing with me, is it? Thank you to everyone who actually read the first chapter.

"Gid," Rodger said, bending down to kiss the sleeping Gideon's forehead. "Gid, I've got to go. I promise I'll be back soon, though. I can stay over if you want me to."

Gideon glanced at the clock and then back at Rodger, frowning. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sleep so long. Did - did you just sit here, all this time?" He looked horrified. "You really didn't have to do that, Rodger."

Rodger shook his head slowly, gazing at Gideon with such affection that the latter thought he spotted tears in Rodger's eyes. He looked down, embarrassed by the intensity of the expression. "One day you'll learn that I like just being with you, Gideon," Rodger said softly, his voice husky. They were quiet a moment, Rodger laying his cool palm over Gideon's clammy one. "Do you want anything before I go? Maybe a washcloth for your head?"

Gideon shook his head, his contented expression wavering with unhappiness. "No, thanks." He stared across the dark room, uncharacteristically bitter. "I feel like shit," he murmured. Gideon's vocalizations of inner turmoil were so infrequent that this one made Rodger's heart thump uncomfortably.

"I know," he whispered back. "I'm so sorry." He held his cool hands against Gideon's flushed cheeks, and when his boyfriend sniffled, wiped a finger under Gideon's nose. If possible, Gideon's pale skin darkened another ten shades, mortified.

"What did you do that for?" he asked, horrified.

But Rodger was never uncomfortable or embarrassed - he refused to be - and he laughed gently. "You'll get used to me, Gideon, eventually. I promise." After another sniffle, Rodger pushed forward the tissue box so it rested on the arm of the couch. "Is your dad going to be back soon?"

Gideon shook his head miserably. "He's - he stays with her till late. Prob - probab - " He had to stop, his small mouth uncurling like a cat's. Rodger immediately plucked several tissues for him and handed them over, pressing the bouquet straight against his twitching nose. There was no noise at first, only the slight amusement of watching Gideon's eyes dance closer and closer to a dim. Then, with the tiniest gasp, almost like a sob, the triplet of sneezes sprung lose. "Hihhh! Huh-t'ISHH! Ekk-ISHH! Huh-TISH!" He stopped, panting a little, embarrassedly folding the soaked tissues so Rodger wouldn't see.

"Bless you," Rodger said, taking the pile from him anyway. "I can throw these out for you. But, on that note, I really have to go." He kissed Gideon on the lips, concern blossoming inside him at their warm temperature, and then reluctantly disentangled himself from the sofa. After blowing a second kiss from the doorway, he bowed and left the apartment. There was a moment where he paused outside the door, head resting on the hallway wall, overcome by the monumental affection and care he felt inside him. He had dated people before, both boys and girls, but never anyone he felt such a painful attachment to. It hurt him, physically - both being apart from Gideon and having to hide so much.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the hallways mirror and hoped dearly his father would approve. His golden hair was lying flat for once, the waves matted down with product; his blue eyes sparkled with the charm his father would expect. Rodger took a breath, straightened the tie he'd brought with him, and pressed the elevator button. Like always, it was all chance.

The walk to the hotel was not long, and thankfully the man on guard knew him well. If you didn't know the guards, it often took ages to get them to allow you into the room. Rodger waved to the guests who seemed to recognize him, not taking in a single face; his thoughts rested back with Gideon, and whether or not he was okay. Whether or not his grandma was okay, and whether or not her not being okay would kill Gideon the way he thought it might. Swallowing, expression morose, he barely noticed his father approach.

"Rodger." Mr. Wheeling said. Rodger stiffened. His mother had been dead a long time. In fact, that was one of the things Rodger and Gideon had talked about upon first becoming friends - how they both had only fathers in their lives. However, Gideon had a loving, wonderful father, and a grandmother who took up his entire universe. Rodger hated all of his relatives - each and every pretending, aristocratic one of them - but no one more than his father.

"Hello, Sir," he said, nearly sneering. "How has your day been?"

Mr. Wheeling's eyes grew icy, reading straightaway into Rodger's sarcasm. "It's been fine," he said, his voice dangerous and drawling. "And yours, Rodger?"

"Oh, all right. Lots of studying." Rodger clapped a hand on his father's arm, mocking, just because he could. They were in public; Mr. Wheeling wouldn't dare do anything to humiliate the family name.

"I trust so." Mr. Wheeling raised an eyebrow. "You graduate in exactly two months, is that correct?"

"Yes Sir," Rodger said, delighting in the way his father's eyes narrowed at his rambunctious way of speaking.

"I must go in now," Mr. Wheeling said. "I am certain someone will find you when it is time for your entrance."

"Oh, I am certain as well," Rodger said, unable to stop the venom clawing from his mouth. That was one of the reasons he cared for Gideon so much, he suspected. In this world, the world of his ancestors, everything made him angry. He was constantly on edge, insincere and cruelly jesting as a result of it. After nearly every exchange with his father, he felt his body was tense, in need of calming. The physical toll of this life was nearly unbearable. He waited until his father had disappeared down the corner, and then collapsed onto the nearest bench.

Ignoring the awful caliber of people Rodger dealt with, the building itself was hard enough to take. The sprawling face of the Meeting Room left Rodger uncomfortable, as if he were a little boy about to be expelled from class. He found the gargoyles distasteful, the fanciful artwork garish. Everything about it spelled magic, spelled money. Two of the things Rodger hated most in the world.

Council began promptly at five, but minors were forbidden from entering for the opening vows. They were secret, rumored to be sacred and absolutely lethal to anyone too young who heard them. Rodger suspected it was all a scam, but childhood stories still left him glad to miss out on the first fifteen minutes of council. Other than Saphie, his first cousin, the only other member younger than twenty was Walker Mylen.

Rodger watched his rival with distaste, wishing he could burn the fine, pale brown hairs right from his head. While Rodger felt contempt for the bizarre, stifling world he'd been born into, he knew Walker felt pride. Though they'd known each other since boyhood, neither had ever managed to understand the other. It did not help that Saphie, who Rodger did truly prefer to most of his other relations, had dated been dating Walker for the past six months.

The metallic, frosted look of the hallway left Rodger in a sort of trance, and he sat with his hands folded in his lap. Once a week, he came here and sat through the pruning his legacy required. He hated it, but it was necessary. And besides, nowadays thinking of Gideon got him through.

The tiniest of movements caught Rodger's eye, and he blinked in surprise as Walker jerked forward. His combed, closed off features spun open for a fraction, face clenching majestically into his ivory fist. "HAH-TTTkkk!" The stifle was furious, controlled. "Ah," the brunette sniffed, drawing a lanky finger under his nose. "Excuse me. There must be something in the air." Rodger refused to acknowledge it beyond a grunt; he saved his kindness for Gideon.

"He's sick," a voice said, and Saphie appeared in the corner, winking at Rodger. He nearly smiled, but then caught sight of her thousand dollar ballgown, her train of pearls, and shook his head. Though she was entertaining, a lively friend to have at parties and often a good ally, the fact remained that Saphie was a spoiled brat.

"Of course I'm not," Walker said, so adamant it was almost comical. His face was so perfect, features so well-alligned, it made Rodger sick. Why did the most attractive people have to be the ego-centric? Again, Rodger thought of Gideon, of his embarrassed laugh and warm, eager smile. Did Gideon even know the kind of comfort he brought Rodger? Rodger didn't think so.

"Oh, just get out your handkerchief, you idiot," Saphie said, hand on her hip. Her red hair swung to her shoulders, held by a loose clip. "You want to."

Walker's retort was cut short by a bullet-quick imposition in his pristine expression. "EHH-KKK! AH-NNGTTT!"

Rodger rolled his eyes. Walker was worse about it than Gideon. Rodger suspected he stopped his nose from growing red with sheer willpower.

"Boys? You may come in." Mrs. Shaw's face appeared, gray and bat-like in the doorway. Rodger wanted laugh, seeing Walker's look of obvious humiliation.

"That was your fault," he heard the youngest Mylen son hiss.

"Mine?" Saphie hissed. "Oh, honestly, Walker. Sometimes a bit of humanity gets in the way of life. I'm sorry for that," she said coolly.

"You spoke to me and I lost my concentration," he said, cross. Rodger noticed one of his hands lingering in his pocket, ready to grab the handkerchief back at a moment's notice. My life, though sometimes painful, amuses me, Rodger thought. It felt a bit as if the world were gently nudging Rodger, in on the joke of his boyfriend and arch nemesis suffering similarly at the same time.

"Miss Saphie?" Mr. Shaw interrupted their whispered banter. "What are you doing in the boys' corridor?"

She smiled, impish. She was the youngest female member of the council, and the only one of the current generation. They would never dare punish her for long. "I'm sorry, Sir. I worried these two might slit each other's throats without me." And she strode ahead of all three - a brave thing to do, as Mr. Shaw was a senior member of the Council - and took her seat, holding her neck high.

Rodger and Walker went to sit beside their respective fathers, on opposite sides of the room.

Eiden, Chief of Proceedings, stepped up onto the podium. He was old, practically withering on the stand. He was nearly bald now, only a shock of gray curls at the very base of his scalp. If not for the gravelly, foreboding tone of his voice, he might have appeared grandfatherly. To distract from the stuffed atmosphere, Rodger thought of Gideon. Was he all right? Did he have enough tissues? How was his grandmother? His heart pinched slightly, and he had to remind himself that there was nothing he could do for her. He didn't know any of those sorts of enchantments. "And now, Ladies and Gentleman," Eiden said, interrupting Rodger's thoughts, ""May the Council Meeting of April the 15th commence."

[ichixshiro14]

Yayyyy you updated! Brilliant!

[Scion]

Awesome! You know how I feel about your stories. And ohh I love the name Gideon so much. I'm basically obsessed with it. Anyway, your writing always gets me. I just hope no one dies teeheehee.

[PaperThings]

A/N: Bleh, sorry I haven't been updating (once again ). I had a bit of an aversion to writing fetishy stuff for a while, but I seem to be up to it again. I promise I'll get back to my other stories soon as well. Thank you so much, ichixshiro14 and Scion for commenting!

The Council Proceedings were always the same - the elder members bestowed Tasks upon the younger, they all spoke the Utmost Enchantments, and then there was an hour of unbearable mingling in the Great Room. The Tasks usually consisted of performing enchantments - each person in Council had to perform two a week. It was these enchantments that helped them improve their magic enough so that they might be able to perform stronger, better and more important enchantments as they grew older. They were usually pertinent to both an enchanter's life and an enchanter's interests. Ironically, one of the first Rodger had performed - upon turning thirteen, the age at which he could conduct magic - was a spell on all his teachers and classmates, so they would not notice the hours he spent out of school *performing enchantments*. It always clawed at Rodger a little, knowing that Gideon was one of the many under this spell of his. Sometimes Rodger wondered what went through his head when he didn't see Rodger in class, but was forced into believing there was nothing unusual about it.

Council was dull, as always, and Rodger found himself incredibly depressed by the end of it. The only entertaining moment had been when Walker finally succumbed to a stifled sneezing fit, into his handkerchief, in the middle of Task Distribution. He was silent enough that he didn't receive many dirty looks, but the look of mortification on his face was enough to amuse Rodger temporarily. *I'm really not a very nice person,* he'd thought to himself. *I'm actually quite horrible.*

He had planned to skip the post-Council mingling, but his father sighted him in the hallway and he was forced to duck into the festivities for a bit. Rodger's fear of his father did not recede as he grew older, or bigger; it stayed with him, a horrible reminder of the great pressure he would have him on for his entire life.

"Rodger, darling, can you stop by my apartment later?" Saphie had sidled over and draped her arms around his neck. "I'm having a party, and Walker's obviously going to be no fun. I need someone like you there." She hung onto his arm, pouting.

"Where is he, anyway?"

"Walker?" She snapped open her black clutch, fishing for lipstick no doubt. "Oh, I don't know. Probably in the bathroom. He said he was going to hide until all of this is over." Rodger snorted back a laugh and Saphie glared at him, unusually defensive of her boyfriend. "His reputation is very important to him, Rodger. You know that. Besides," she went on, at Rodger's rolled eyes, "you're no different than he is. He was raised to act this way by a father he won't stand up to. I don't see how you're better." Her hand lightly hit his behind and he winced, biting his tongue to stop from snapping at her. She was right, of course, but it was horrible hearing her say the words. Her mother, his father's twin sister, had been abominable after Rodger's mother's death. From that moment on he didn't spend a single evening with her where there weren't complaints about that whore of a woman Miranda. He supposed it was one of the reasons he refused to get closer to Saphie.

"Anyway, please come?" she said, batting her eyelashes. "They'll be plenty of available girls for you."

That was the other thing. Not one person in Rodger's family knew that, although he didn't mind girls, he much preferred boys in that regard. "I'm actually seeing someone, Saph," he said, trying to sound evasive enough for her to stop inviting him.

"Really?" Saphie said. "Someone from... our world?"

"No, that would involve me finding someone out of state, wouldn't it?" he said sarcastically. "Anyway, I'm actually heading over there now. H - she's sick."

"Aw, well, isn't that sweet, you being the caring boyfriend?" Saphie jeered. The venom in her tone made his stomach curdle; he knew she didn't approve of dating anyone outside their little magical realm. "I hope you have a really fantastic night, Rodger!"

Rodger walked from the ballroom as quickly as he could, grateful not to run into anyone in the lobby. He pushed through the front doors with a smile on his face, physically relieved to be free for another entire week.

"Huhh-CHHH! Ehh - ehh! HUH'CHOOO!" Walker was doubled over on the steps, his face a bright red. His filthy handkerchief was wrung tight in his hands, rather than clamped against his nose. Rodger fought the urge to be obnoxious, comment on the amount of germs Walker released into the air when he didn't use his sodden hankie, but he resisted the urge. Saphie was going to put the guy through enough tonight, with her stupid party. Rodger walked straight past him, considering how funny it was that they'd both wanted nothing more than to escape the Council this evening.

He debated picking up more soup on his way to Gideon's, but then realized that, knowing Gideon, the cup he'd brought probably hadn't been touched. Wanting to get there as quickly as possible, suddenly needing to see Gideon, Rodger broke into a run. He raced uptown, the spring air flying around his face and making ripples in his golden locks. By the time he arrived, he was giddy, adrenaline thick and intoxicating in his veins. "Gideon?" he said, knocking on the door rather than using the key this time. "Gid, are you up?" He heard a shuffling inside, and moments later the door swung open.

Gideon wore the same pajamas as before, his dark curls still a mess. His eyes were bloodshot and his nose drippy, but he was smiling. "You're back!" Again it went through Rodger's head: where did Gideon think he went?

"You bet." He bent slightly to make up for their height difference, and kissed Gideon twice: once on the lips, and once on the tip of his slightly-upturned nose. "Ow, it tickles," Gideon said, laughing as he rubbed his face.

"How are you doing?" Rodger asked, enfolding Gideon into his arms. He felt a grin spread across his face as Gideon leaned against his shoulder. "I'm fine," Gideon said, the words muffled by Rodger's shirt.

"Your dad's not back?"

"No, he - he's staying there a couple of more hours, and then he said he'd be home." Rodger was sorry he asked. Gideon's good mood seemed suddenly in pieces.

"I'm so sorry, honey," Rodger said. He felt imperceptible twitch in Gideon's shoulders that always happened when Rodger used pet names. Gideon had once confessed that he never dated anyone before and the entire prospect of a relationship still made him a little nervous. Rodger found it hard to believe, as Gideon was one of the most beautiful boys he had ever met, but then, Gideon was also very shy. "Are you... are you doing okay with it? Do you want to talk about it?"

"I guess. I don't know really." Rodger led them to the couch, where he sat and pulled Gideon into his arms. "It's just... I don't know if I'm going to be able to visit her. She's so, so sick Rodger, and I don't know if I can see her that way." His voice was nearly inaudible. "So I was wondering if... if I'm better enough to go, will you come with me?"

Rodger's heart filled with relief. Gideon hated asking for help, because it embarrassed him, and Rodger had been scared he wouldn't ask for help even if he needed it. Just looking at him now, it was clear asking had taken a lot out of him. It looked as if his eyes were ready to tremble out of their sockets. "Of course," Rodger said, and pressed a kiss to Gideon's forehead. "Gideon, I'm basically not going to leave your side until this is all taken care of, okay?" He wished he could somehow memorize the grateful, affectionate expression on Gideon's face, and keep it forever.

"Okay," Gideon replied softly.

"Well, you're the one who's sick," Rodger said. "You can pick the movie." He winked.

"Really?" Gideon's face lit up. "Okay! How about... um... le - let's huhh let's see... Hihh!" Having spotted the moment where surrender became inevitable, Rodger pushed the tissue box onto Gideon's lap. "Here," he said. Gideon's mouth hung open silently, the hitching finished prematurely as the sneeze still needed to be teased out. Grinning, almost shy himself, Rodger took the tissues and fluttered them against Gideon's nose. Gideon's black eyes burst open at the sudden crush of desperation, and then screwed shut, his face crumpling in a way Rodger found absurdly beautiful. "Ehh-hhSHH! Heh-iSHH! t'SHH! Ehh - hehnnn..." The sound trailed and held, somewhere miserably between a groan and a whimper.

"It'll happen, just hang in there," Rodger said, planting a comforting kiss on Gideon's hair. This only elicited another, similar sound, slightly more emphasized and filled with Gideon's sweet breath. "Just relax," Rodger said, gently pulling Gideon's back against his chest. There was a moment of silence as Gideon squirmed, his eyes wretchedly seeking downward, and then he fell forward into his lap, released. "EHH'TCHHH!" The sneeze was so furious, so strange coming from sweet Gideon, Rodger couldn't help but laugh out loud. Gideon's miserable glare only made it funnier.

"Here," he said again, tossing more tissues into Gideon's hands. "Bless you."

"Thag you," Gideon said, blowing his nose as quietly as he could.

"Now what was that about the movie?"

"Um," Gideon said with a sniff, lying back against Rodger with exhaustion. "I don't know. What about Harold and Maude?"

Rodger resisted the urge to mime vomiting - he had, of course, subjected himself to such an evening - and went up to insert the DVD himself. Then he returned to the couch, snuggling with Gideon and taking joy out of how happy Gideon seemed to be. The few times during the movie where Gideon sneezed, he didn't even try to pull away.

They were about two thirds of the way done with the movie when the front door opened. "Hey Gid, I'm home." Gideon's Dad stepped in, looking almost as careworn and unhappy as Gideon had upon Rodger's arrival. "Oh, hey there, Rodger."

"Hi Michael," Rodger said, waving and smiling. Within the very first two weeks of meeting him, Rodger had been asked by Gideon's father to call him by his first name. "How's your mom doing?" The look of pain in Michael's face was so identical to the one in Gideon's, it made Rodger cringe inwardly.

"Not great. In fact... I'm so sorry, Rodger, but... would you mind heading home? You know I don't mind if you stay over usually, but, well, it's been a very long day."

"Of course, I totally understand," Rodger said, when inside he felt himself wanting to scream. How can you make me leave him, when he's like this? How can you make me go home to my very own hell? "I hope everything gets better." After Michael disappeared into the bedroom, Rodger pulled Gideon into his arms, hugging him tighter than he ever had before. It made him happy to feel Gideon holding on just as tightly. "Hey, call me anytime, okay?" he whispered, kissing Gideon in every place his lips could reach. "I mean it. Even if it's two a.m. and you just want to talk about things."

Gideon laughed lightly. "It's one a.m. now."

"Right, so, that's exactly what I'm saying."

They grinned at each other. Rodger took Gideon's hands in his. "Get better, Gideon."