a/n :

i had the idea for this extra scene after i wrote the book and began writing it, but clearly, never completed it (classic me). i've revisited it multiple times over the past two years and finally, finally, finished it!
it takes places within the timescale of b&h, between chapter twenty-nine and thirty (that's right before hassan tells brooks he knows about his relationship with hale and elliot outs brooks to the whole school, if you can't remember or can't be bothered to go to reread those chapters) and is super long because it's actually two chapters worth, one from each of their pov's, but i crammed it into one cheeky bonus chapter.
apologies for the stupidly long time it took for me to get this written down as more than a concept in my head and who knows, maybe one day i'll finish that epilogue i started two years ago! but no guarantees because of who i am as a person!

b r o o k s ;

MOST TEENAGERS HIS AGE spend their Saturday evenings at parties, getting drunk, generally doing rebellious teenage things that were unsavoury and probably illegal. When he wasn't studying (lame, yeah, but that was the price of taking five subjects), Brooks spent his Saturday nights debating which movies to marathon.

"Aw, c'mon, you guys," Calla complained, waving DVD cases that were too blurry to make out on the small screen of her laptop. "You already vetoed Mean Girls and Legally Blonde. You seriously can't allow Devil Wears Prada?"

"No," Hassan said flatly, and Brooks nodded agreement. He might have been gay, but he knew as much about fashion as a teaspoon, so that movie didn't hold much enjoyment. "You've already forced us to watch it five times. I'm not putting myself through that torture again."

"Fine, fine." She held up another DVD with a hopeful expression. "Mamma Mia?" 

Brooks grimaced. "Please tell me that isn't the singalong version."

"Well, obviously! What else?"

"Vetoed," Brooks and Hassan said simultaneously, the immediate response to the majority of the films Calla scrounged up from her extensive collection.

"This is why I need girl friends," she grumbled, tossing the DVD over her shoulder. It bounced off her dresser to join the other rejected movies on the floor. "You guys suck. You know these are all classics, right?"

"I don't think you know what classics are," Hassan said.

Brooks wondered how their Skype call had turned into an attempt to schedule a movie marathon, even though they were only going to Calla's tomorrow. This was the only method in which Brooks and Hassan got even the slightest say in what they were watching — if they didn't do this, they'd turn up at Calla's house and be forced to watch hours of bitchy girls and fake blonde hair and too many songs that Calla knew all the words to.

Calla Brodeur had many talents, but singing was most definitely not one.

Brooks heard his phone buzz on the bedside table and he rolled over on his bed to grab it, leaving them to their bickering of what exactly the definition of "classics" was. Hassan reserved it for movies such as Shawshank Redemption, while Calla was insistent that Mean Girls was a classic. Brooks couldn't help his involuntary smile when he saw the text was from Hale.

hale :
hey are you at home?

brooks :
yeah i have no social life remember

hale :
ah yes i forgot i was dating a nerd

Brooks stared at the screen, warmth spreading through his chest at the words; or more specifically, one word. Dating. Dating in secret, but still. Dating was dating, even if they hadn't technically been on any dates. Brooks typed out a response.

brooks :
why do you ask?

"Brooks!" He started at Calla's voice, crackling over the bad Skype connection, and dropped his phone on his bed in surprise. "Tell Hassan that he's crazy. The Lion King is better than Finding Nemo."

"The only crazy one is you, Calla," Hassan said, before Brooks could even think about replying. "Finding Nemo is a classic."

"So is The Lion Ling!"

"Okay, let's agree on something we all like," Brooks suggested, glancing at his phone. Hale hadn't replied yet. "How about Marley & Me?"

Not even Hassan was heartless enough not to like a film following the life of an adorable dog.

"Please, no. That film makes me cry way too much," Calla said, looking sorrowful just at the thought of Marley's tragic end. "Ooh, I know! Let's watch The Shining."

"Er, no," Brooks said uneasily. "Let's not."

Brooks was flexible in the movies he liked, willing to watch pretty much anything, but horror was where he drew the line. Yeah, it wasn't real and he was a pussy, but even the smallest jump scare scared the shit out of him. He was the kid who, when they went to watch the Woman in Black for Calla's eleventh birthday, ducked out of the theatre only half an hour in and refused to return because he was too freaked out. He hadn't slept for a week after that, expecting to see the Woman in Black lurking in the corner of his bedroom. He still got teased for that now, but he had no regrets. He probably would have been scarred for life if he'd forced himself to finish that movie.

"Aww, but I've wanted to watch it for ages!" Calla exclaimed. "A man who goes crazy and tries to kill his family, while trapped in an empty hotel. It's meant to be really scary."

"Uh, yeah. Exactly." Brooks didn't think she could have sold the idea any less if she tried. "Thank you for reminding me why I will never be watching that film, along with all the creepy scary ones you suggest."

Calla grinned. "Is Brooksie scared?"

"Damn right I am," Brooks said incredulously. He might have been embarrassed, if Calla and Hassan hadn't known about his aversion to horror for years now. "Chances are very high I'll never sleep again if you make me watch it."

"As sad as that is, he's probably right," Hassan pointed out. "Remember the Paranormal Activities marathon?"

"Please don't remind me," Brooks groaned, his face turning red when Calla started laughing. He considered chucking his pillow at the screen, but seeing as that would no doubt hurt his laptop more than Calla, he settled for burying his face in the pillow. "How could I forget?"

Seeing as both Calla and Hassan had an unnatural love for horror, Brooks was willing to give it another attempt when he was thirteen. They'd camped out in Brooks' movie room/basement — a bad idea because basements are creepy enough as it is — and cycled through all of the Paranormal Activities films. Brooks spend the entire time peeking out from behind his duvet, and retreated to hiding behind the sofa by the second one. He refused to watch anymore even when Calla tried to bribe him to with Haribos. It didn't help that Hassan thought the whole thing was hilarious and unbelievably fake, laughing at the all scenes that only managed to freak Brooks out.

"Fine, no scary movies," Calla said with a dramatic sigh, looking disappointed. "What about The Internship? I'll happily just watch that for Dylan O'Brien, who's hot. Right, Brooks? Hey, I finally have someone to talk about hot guys with!"

Brooks opened his mouth to agree that Dylan O'Brien certainly was easy on the eyes, but he was distracted by a loud rap. It sounded a little too much like something thrown against glass. He glanced instinctively at his window, the curtains drawn back to reveal the starry sky. There wasn't anything on the balcony that could have made the sound, beyond the tiny potted plant he'd put out there to brighten the place up. He knew it couldn't have been the plant, because he'd forgotten to water it and it had died months ago.

Brooks knew it probably wasn't anything, but he was still on edge. It didn't help that they'd literally just been discussing horror movies, the kind with serial killers who hid out on balconies to murder unsuspecting victims. Just as he was considering informing the others he was about to die, a tiny stone flew out of nowhere  and bounced off his window. Brooks stared at the window, a little less scared and a little more puzzled. He was pretty sure murderers didn't announce their presence by throwing stones at the windows of their potential victims.

"One sec," Brooks said, slipping off his bed. He grabbed his phone, ready to dial 999 at the last second. Just in case. "Pretty sure there's someone standing outside my house trying to kidnap me."

He heard Calla's disbelieving, "Kidnap you?" but he'd already moved away from his bed, clutching his phone for reassurance. He knew, realistically, it probably wasn't a serial killer. And even if it was, they couldn't do anything from all the way down there. His bedroom was on the second floor. This knowledge didn't stop him from jumping when another pebble skittered across his balcony, no doubt taken from his driveway.

Brooks stepped out onto the balcony, warily watching for more flying stones, and peered over the railing. He wasn't sure what exactly he was expecting — masked clown wielding a bloody chainsaw? — but it certainly wasn't the familiar black-haired boy, grinning up at him from the driveway. His heart flipped at the sight, equal parts happiness at seeing him and horror at seeing him here, standing outside his house.

"Hale?" Brooks exclaimed.

"About time," Hale called up. "I was beginning to think I was throwing stones at the wrong window, which would have been very awkward."

Brooks glanced over his shoulder into his bedroom, but his laptop was facing away from the window and there was no way either Calla or Hassan would be able to see he was talking to someone. Just to be sure, he slid the balcony door shut before turning back to look down at Hale. "What are you doing here, Hale?" he whispered loudly. "It's eleven in the evening. My dad will kill us both if he finds you out here!"

"Admittedly a scary thought," Hale agreed, sounding unconcerned. "However, that's a risk I'm willing to face to take you out on a date."

Brooks blinked. "Take me...on a date?"

That was the last thing he had been expecting Hale to say, and he almost dropped his phone in surprise. Luckily, sense kicked in at the last moment and he held on tight before it could plummet the long distance to the floor.

"Jeez, this would have been easier if your bedroom wasn't so bloody high up." Brooks didn't need to see Hale's face to know he was rolling his eyes. "I couldn't go to the front door because, well...I'd rather avoid your dad if I can. And as athletically skilled as I am, I probably would have snapped my neck if I tried to climb up to your balcony."

"That's a relief," Brooks grinned, gripping the railing as he leant forward. Just the thought of anyone attempting to scale the virtually flat wall using the unstable ivy was terrifying, although that was coming from someone who couldn't even scale the climbing frame in PE lessons because it was too high. "Also, that's kind of creepy, randomly turning up on my balcony. Some would even say stalkerish," he added teasingly.

"Hey, is that any way to talk to the guy who risked the wrath of a scary father for you?"

The mention of John Montgomery was a reminder that anyone could glance out of the window and spot Hale, which would lead to an awkward situation and unwanted questions. "I'll come down," Brooks told him. "Just wait there, okay? And stay out of sight."

"Don't have anywhere else to wait," Hale reminded him, as Brooks moved back into his bedroom.

Brooks was almost at his bedroom door before he remembered the Skype call, which he'd left Calla and Hassan on. It was only the voices from his laptop that reminded him about it as he doubled back to his bed. "Told you he hadn't been kidnapped," Hassan said smugly, when Brooks reappeared in the frame. "You owe me ten quid, Calla."

"I never took the bet, dumbass! Where did you go?" Calla asked accusingly, the question directed at Brooks. "You say something about someone trying to kidnap you and disappear! Do you know how suspicious that seems? You were very nearly a missing person, Brooks."

Brooks just about refrained from rolling his eyes. "I just thought I heard someone outside my house. Turns out it was just a fox," he lied, edging away from the bed. "Oh, hey, Inkeri's calling me. Better go! I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Calla frowned. "I don't hear — "

Brooks flipped his laptop shut, effectively ending the call. He left his bedroom and practically ran down the stairs, scared someone else would get to Hale before he could. There was no reason anyone should, but his relief was palpable when he reached the front door with no one else nearby. He could hear Inkeri bustling about the kitchen, humming to herself, but the kitchen door was firmly closed. Brooks didn't even bother putting on shoes as he slipped out of the front door, the floor chilly beneath his socked feet. It was a cold night but Brooks felt warm all over at the smile Hale flashed him, easing a little of the tight ball of nerves in his chest at being caught. It would be worth getting in trouble to see that smile.

"Hey," Hale said.

"Hey." Brooks suddenly felt unsure what he was supposed to say with Hale here, standing in front of him, outside his house in the middle of the night. "You, um, want to go on a date? Now?"

"Why not?" he shrugged. "We haven't had any yet, and now seems as good a time as any to have our first one."

"Am I allowed to ask what this date is? Or where it is?"

"Nope. It's a surprise."

Brooks shook his head with a smile. "I don't really like surprises, you know."

"Really? That's a shame," Hale grinned. "Guess you'll just have to suck it up and play along. So, what do you say? Is that a yes?"

"How could I turn down something so carefully planned? I agree to this mysterious date," Brooks chuckled, not even caring that his parents would damn him to all kinds of Hell if they knew he was sneaking out of the house past their designated curfew of ten. There was a time not so long ago he wouldn't have ever considered it, but maybe Hale was a bad influence after all.

Not that he really minded.

"I'll be back in a sec," Brooks said, placing a hand on the door. "You — "

"Where are you going?" Hale asked.

"Uh, to change my clothes?"

"Why? No need to dress up for me, and besides, I like your outfit. Especially the shirt," he added, with a teasing gleam in his eyes.

Brooks hadn't stopped to consider what he was wearing when he'd rushed downstairs to intercept Hale before anyone else could. He glanced down now and felt his cheeks heat up at the shirt, paired with grey sweatpants. It was a basic white t-shirt, with a cute cartoon cupcake covered in sprinkles printed in the middle and a speech bubble from it's mouth declaring YOU BAKE ME CRAZY.

"Oh my God," Brooks muttered, his face burning with utter mortification as Hale cracked up. "I didn't buy it, okay? Calla got it for my birthday and, well, it's surprisingly comfortable to wear around the house. Just the house! It was never meant to, er, be worn in public and...stop laughing!"

"Sorry, sorry," Hale snickered, finally managing to suppress his laughter, although he was still grinning widely. "But I have to ask, Brooks...do I bake you crazy?"

Brooks wanted to yank off the incriminating shirt, but seeing as that would probably not be an appropriate response, he settled for hiding his face behind his hands in an attempt to mask the red cheeks. "Shut up," he grumbled. "I'm definitely changing my clothes now."

He felt hands on his wrists and peeked out from between his fingers to see Hale was standing in front of him, tugging his hands away from his face. "Aw, c'mon, don't change your clothes," Hale said with a grin. "I do like the shirt, and I'm the only one who's going to be seeing you tonight, I promise. Please wear it."

Brooks pulled a face but his resolve crumbled under Hale's beseeching gaze. His lack of willpower when it came to Hale should have been worrying, but it'd gotten past that point. Hale could have asked him to jump off a cliff into a pit of fire and he wouldn't have questioned it for a second. "Alright, fine, you win. Only because you said please. And I'm still going inside," Brooks added. "Unless you want me to go on my mysterious surprise date without shoes."

Hale glanced down at his socked feet in surprise and chuckled. "I suppose I can allow that."

Brooks stepped back and paused at the door, glancing back at Hale. He'd moved back down the stairs and was leaning against the wall, the glow of the porch lights spilling across his features and painting shadows along his high cheekbones. The dim lighting only served to make him more attractive, painted in shades of gold and soft black. "I'll be waiting," Hale assured him, and Brooks wondered whether he was still talking about the date.

Once he'd carefully closed the door quietly behind him, he headed to the cloakroom leading off the foyer. It was the same place he'd hidden from Adam's drunk party guests a week ago. Brooks glanced around uneasily as he slipped his trainers on, but thankfully, the house stayed as silent as ever. He was mere seconds away from freedom with his hand against the door when he heard footsteps on the stairs behind him, and someone cleared their throat.

Brooks turned around with his heart in his throat to see Adam standing on the stairs, his brown hair a rumpled mess. His relief that it wasn't his parents was short-lived; although Adam didn't have the power to punish him, he certainly wouldn't hesitate to snitch on him. "Interesting," he said, arching an eyebrow at Brooks. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Out," Brooks said vaguely.

Adam's gaze slid over him in a bored once-over. "You're going out in that?"

Brooks flushed. "Look, what do I have to do to get you to keep your mouth shut about this?" he said wearily, deciding to ignore the comment about the cupcake shirt. He would have considered burning it to save himself further shame but he doubted Calla would be too pleased about that fate of her present. "If you want a favour — "

"Adam?"

They both turned at the interruption. It came in the form of a girl who couldn't have been much older than Brooks, who'd appeared at the top of the staircase. She was dressed in an oversized t-shirt, a plain grey one with white designs that Brooks recognised. It was Adam's. It didn't take long for Brooks to understand the situation, confirmed by Adam's clenched jaw and sidelong glare he shot Brooks.

"We aren't allowed to go out this late, but we also aren't allowed to have other people round," Brooks said casually, enjoying being the one to wield the upper hand for once. "Isn't that right, Adam?"

"You're a jackass," was his terse reply.

"Is this your brother?" The girl seemed to notice the tension in the room, judging from the looks she flicked between Adam and Brooks, but she smiled at Brooks anyway. She was pretty in a simple yet undeniable way, strawberry-blonde hair tumbling past her shoulders and sharp hazel eyes thoughtful as they studied him. "Nice to meet you. I'm Clair."

"Brooks," he replied, returning the smile. It shifted to a grin as he glanced at Adam, who was still scowling at him. "Nice to meet you too, Clair. Funny, I don't think Adam's ever mentioned you before."

Clair laughed, not the response he expected most girls would have at being told they had never been brought up in conversation. "No, I doubt he would have. Sorry, have I interrupted something?" she asked, moving back up the stairs with a glance in Adam's direction. "I can wait upstairs. I was just — "

"That's fine," Adam interrupted. "Brooks was just leaving now. Weren't you?"

Brooks raised an eyebrow. "Depends. Will you say anything to them?"

"Only if you do."

"Then we have a deal," Brooks said, relieved and a little smug. Clair couldn't have chosen a better time to reveal herself. "I don't know when I'll be back, but you have to cover for me if someone asks where I am. Okay?"

"Whatever," Adam replied dismissively, as much of an agreement as Brooks was ever going to get out of him.

Brooks said bye to Clair, who looked amused as she returned the farewell, before finally escaping from the Montgomery house. Brooks jogged down the steps to join Hale, who had moved to the fountain and was flicking pebbles from the driveway into the water. "That was an awfully long time to put on shoes," Hale said, following Brooks as he led them to the gates. "I was beginning to think you'd stood me up."

"Hale Ryves, stood up?" Brooks affected a look of mock astonishment. "Is that even a possibility?"

Hale grinned. "There's a first time for everything."

"Don't worry, it won't be this time. I just had to...deal with something."

Sure, if you counted Adam and Brooks blackmailing one another to hide the truth from parents. Maybe that was a bit strange, but Brooks had long since accepted his family situation was more than a little dysfunctional.

Brooks led Hale down the gravel pathway that led to the mechanised gates, under the long shadows cast by the trees bordering the path. The gates were huge metal structures that could only be opened by a passcode, and were usually always kept closed, especially at night. "How did you even get in?" Brooks asked in bemusement, as he tapped in the four-digit passcode on the number pad. "I'm pretty sure you never asked me for the passcode."

"The same way I got in when I visited you while you were sick," Hale said simply. "I climbed over them."

"You what?" Brooks eyed the gates, which were at least ten feet tall and had twisted pieces of metal fashioned in the shape of pointed spikes running along the top of them. They glinted menacingly in the moonlight spilling down from the sky. "Jesus, Hale. You could have just asked for the passcode."

"But where's the fun in that?" Hale's eyes gleamed bright and wild in the dark. Brooks felt a thrill of excitement at the spontaneity and craziness of sneaking out to god-knows-where in the middle of the night, and more importantly, with just Hale. "Besides, it wouldn't have been a surprise then."

"I'm willing to lose the surprise if it means you don't impale yourself on my gates."

"Your concern is touching and unnecessary," Hale said breezily, catching him by the hand to tug him through the gates as they swung shut behind them. "I play sport, remember? I'm as athletically fit as you could hope and your best bet for scaling those gates without impaling myself."

Brooks chuckled. "Whatever you say."

Every house on his street stood tall and dark, hidden behind their own gates and various other security means. This was a neighbourhood whose primary concern was to protect their expensive cars and furniture, regardless of how isolated it made them. Hale pulled Brooks to a stop before they'd made it more than ten steps from his house, and pulled something from his pocket.

"What's that?" Brooks asked curiously, unable to make out anything in the dimness beyond something shapeless and dark in his hand.

"A ring," Hale said seriously. "Marry me?"

Brooks felt himself turning bright red. "What?" he spluttered, knowing he had to be joking and unable to stop himself freaking out nonetheless. "Hale — "

Hale flashed him a dazzling grin. "Kidding."

"Asshole," Brooks grumbled, shoving his shoulder lightly when he just laughed. "One of these days you'll say something that isn't a joke, and I won't take you seriously. So, what is it, then?" He gestured to his hand. "That you're holding?"

"Well, it's just some cloth, but it's acting as a blindfold for tonight," Hale explained, holding it up with a mischievous look. "I'm taking this surprise thing seriously. Go hard or go home, right?"

Brooks groaned. "I don't have a say in this, do I?"

"Not in the slightest," Hale said cheerily.

Brooks obediently closed his eyes as Hale slipped the soft fabric over them, and stood still as he tied it off at the back of his head. He felt a shiver run down his spine as Hale's fingers trailed down the exposed skin at the nape of his neck, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake. Brooks leaned instinctively into the touch and felt hands at his elbows, gently turning him around. Brooks couldn't see anything beyond the darkness of his blindfold, but he didn't need his eyes to recognise the taste of Hale's lips against his.

Brooks wouldn't have minded if that was all their date comprised of, the two of them standing under the yellow glow of streetlights and losing themselves in the blazing heat of the kiss, but Hale finally pulled away with obvious reluctance. "Not yet," he murmured in a husky voice. "Not here. Come on, we have a date to get to."

Brooks felt Hale's hand slip into his and trusted him to lead him into the unknown.

h a l e ;

"AM I BEING LED to my death, where my body will be dumped in a creepy forest?"

Hale glanced at Brooks in amusement, although the look was lost to the blindfold still covering his eyes. He was still wearing the cupcake shirt that was definitely growing on Hale. They'd only been walking for about ten minutes, Hale navigating the darkened streets while simultaneously making sure Brooks didn't trip over his own feet, but he'd kept up the stream of questions regardless. He looked down at their intertwined hands, Brooks' palm warm and soft against his. They'd been clasped together the entire time they'd been walking, with Hale leading the way. It was refreshing to be able to hold his hand without having to worry about someone seeing, with only the stars to judge them.

"Yes," Hale replied, as they passed under the arching branches of the trees leading into the park. "I'm just taking you out to the secret location where I hide my chainsaw. Also, there aren't any forests nearby. This is Manchester, Brooks, not Narnia."

"Really?" Brooks grinned. "That's a shame. A trip to Narnia would be a fun date."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time."

Brooks tightened his hold on Hale's hand. "So, um..." He hesitated, chewing his lip. Hale stayed silent, willing to wait him out. "Does that mean there will be a, uh, next time?"

Hale smiled at how shy he'd suddenly gotten and returned the gesture with a reassuring squeeze. "If you want there to be a next time," Hale said evenly. He hoped it wasn't obvious that as far as he was concerned, he'd take a million more times if he could.

"Yeah," Brooks said, with a soft smile. "I do want that."

There was the rustling sound as a rabbit darted out from a nearby bush, and Brooks clutched his hand again, although Hale suspected it was more of an involuntary reaction. "I know I was joking about that whole creepy forest thing," Brooks mumbled, "but seriously, where are we?"

"Nearly there, I promise. Think of daisies and bunnies to make yourself feel better. Unless you're scared of bunnies too," Hale added, with a teasing grin.

"I'm glaring at you right now," Brooks said. "You can't see it, but believe me, I am."

Admittedly, Ashfield park did seem far more eerie and haunted in the darkness. It was little more than a green space of fun and dog walkers during the day, but it had transformed into a silent place with shadows stretching around every corner. Hale led Brooks past the play area and across the wide stretches of grass meant for dogs to run free, ducking into a copse of trees almost hidden from sight.

"Watch your head," Hale called over his shoulder, before remembering Brooks didn't have the luxury of his eyesight. He turned around just as Brooks walked into a tree. "Ah...oops?"

"Ow," he said plaintively, rubbing his forehead with a rueful expression. "You know what, I think we should switch things up next time. You can be the one in the blindfold while I watch you walk into things."

"Aw, I'm sorry, Brooks. I'll make it up to you," Hale said slyly, catching him by the sleeve and tugging him after him, making sure he avoided walking in the path of any trees this time. "Any way you want."

Brooks flushed. "Er, well — "

He was saved from a response when the closely packed trees gave way to his destination, and Hale pulled Brooks to a stop. "We've reached," he announced, releasing his hold on Brooks. "Ready to take your blindfold off?"

"More than ready," Brooks said, relieved. "Being blind is terrifying."

He yanked the blindfold off easily enough and stared around them with wide blue-green eyes, taking in their surroundings. They were standing at the edge of a grassy clearing, wild and overgrown, with a bubbling creek snaking through the grass and disappearing into the trees. It looked especially magical under the starry sky, moonlight glinting off the wildflowers growing in bunches and the silvery water of the stream.

"Woah," Brooks murmured, tipping his head back to gaze at the unobstructed view of the night sky. The stars were brighter and greater in numbers out here away from the artificial glow of streetlights, but Hale was more interested in the view right in front of him, which was far nicer in his opinion. Brooks was wearing that look of awed wonder and Hale couldn't help staring, at the curve of his lips and his long lashes, free to do so while Brooks admired the stars. He suddenly glanced back at Hale and smiled, a secretive smile that was meant only for him. "This place is amazing. Where are we?"

"Ashfield Park," Hale answered, chuckling at his surprised expression. "I know, I had the same reaction when I accidentally found this place. Well, when Will accidentally found it. We used to come to the park all the time when we were younger and he stumbled on this during a game of hide and seek, tucked out of sight."

"Now I just feel like second best," Brooks said, the gleam in his eyes letting Hale know he was only teasing. "You came here with Will first? I knew there'd be competition, but damn, it's coming from all angles."

"Don't worry," Hale grinned, moving towards the stream to what he'd stashed in the bushes there earlier. "Just to make things special, I brought a little something extra."

He pushed aside twigs and leaves to reveal the brown wicker basked nestled among the branches, tucked out of sight. He dragged it out and dropped it by the stream, where Brooks had already moved to sit. Brooks flicked it open with a curious look and his eyes lit up at the carefully packed food, sandwiches and drinks and most importantly —

"Pancakes!" Brooks beamed in delight, and looked at him in surprise. "Is it a coincidence that they're my favourite food, or did you read my mind?"

"If only it was the latter." Hale dropped down onto the grass next to him, close enough to feel his leg pressed against his and the warmth from his body. "But the truth is, I just asked Calla what your favourite food was."

Brooks raised his eyebrows. "And she didn't think that was a strange question?"

"Oh, I was very subtle," Hale said sagely. "I pretended Will needed a questionnaire filled out for psychology, and one of the questions was favourite food. First I asked for hers, then Hassan's, and finally yours. I even made a mini fake questionnaire so she wouldn't suspect anything because, you know, go hard or go home."

"You did all that just to find out my favourite food?" Brooks looked pleasantly surprised and smiled. "Well, that is surprisingly thoughtful and sweet."

"Surprisingly?"

Brooks responded by leaning forward and kissing him. Hale melted into the touch of his lips which he'd tasted enough times to be familiar now, and knocked Brooks to the grass to roll over him. He laughed against his lips at the surprised sound Brooks made and braced his hands on either side of his head, the grass cool beneath his fingers. It was the most privacy they'd had since...well, since ever. Being locked in a cleaners cupboard was about as private as it got and even that had been interrupted. Now the stars, or possibly voyeuristic wildlife, were their only audience and Hale didn't care enough about either of them to stop.

Hale was so caught up in the kissing that he didn't see which of them knocked the picnic basket, only heard the rustling as it slid towards the stream. Hale reached out and snagged the basket by the handle seconds before it splashed into the water, straightening up to pull it back towards them. "I spent way too much time preparing that to let the fish have it," Hale remarked.

Brooks propped himself up on his elbows and blinked. "The stream has fish?" he asked, sounding a little dazed. His cupcake shirt was more than a little rumpled and Hale had to admit he kind of preferred it like this.

"Who knows? I never bothered to check."

Brooks sat up properly, running fingers through his messy hair to brush pieces of grass out. Hale considered just pushing the basket aside and returning to the make out session, with the hopes they'd actually get beyond kissing for once, but it would be a shame to let the food go to waste after he'd gone to such lengths to get the pancake intel. Plus, he was hungry. Food first, he concluded as he began unpacking the contents, and the fun stuff later. There was plenty of time for both as far as Hale was concerned.

"You really made all of this yourself?" Brooks asked, as he bit into one of the cheese sandwiches. "No wonder you never have time to do your homework."

"Yeah, sure, that's why I don't do my homework," Hale snorted. "Of course that's all you got out of this. And actually, I recruited some help for this. TJ and Tessa do anything I ask as long as I make it sound like a game."

"Child labour," Brooks said, pretending to be appalled. "You're a tyrant."

"Hey, they had fun. Probably. They were easy to recruit and didn't care enough to ask what this was for. My mum would have."

"Ah." Brooks nodded wisely, but his image was ruined by the pancake he'd practically inhaled in one mouthful. "Secrecy always comes first."

"Brooks, the pancakes are meant to be for dessert."

He chomped down on another one. "Says who?"

"Dining etiquette, of course."

"Doesn't exist," Brooks replied simply. "I'd have pancakes for every meal if Inkeri would let me."

Hale grinned. "I should thank her for that, then. I don't fancy kissing anyone who's lost all their teeth from too much sugar."

"But that's what dentures are for," Brooks teased, his bright eyes sparkling in the dark. "I always thought they were sexy."

"Woah, woah, hold up. Are you, Brooklyn Montgomery, trying to seduce me?" Hale leant closer at the startled look on Brooks' face. "Is this what dirty talk is?"

Brooks turned red, just as Hale expected. "N-no! Shut the hell up," he grumbled, when Hale started laughing, "and eat the sandwiches your siblings slaved over."

Time passed faster than Hale had expected. Spending time with Brooks was the opposite of an arduous double period in school; rather than counting down the minutes, they flew by unchecked. They polished off the basket full of food as quickly as you would expect two teenage guys to, and then Hale was free to do as he pleased with Brooks. They alternated between making out and talking about anything and everything, sharing each other's warmth when it got cold. Hale ended up sitting with his arms behind him propping him up, and Brooks stretched out across the grass with his head pillowed on Hale's lap.

"Calla tried to teach me and Hassan constellations once," Brooks said, his eyes roaming across the night sky. They looked particularly bright reflecting the star-shine from above. "Big Dipper and Ursa Major and stuff like that."

"Go on, then, brainiac. Teach me what you know."

Brooks squinted up the the sky. "Uh, it's harder than it looks. The only one I can find is Orion's belt. See? The three stars in a diagonal line. It's easiest to see in winter."

Hale could have looked up and seen, but he was far more interested in the sight beneath him. There were no prying eyes to stop him staring at Brooks as much as he wanted, memorising the soft curve of his cheekbones and slant of his nose and the long sweep of his lashes. Brooks suddenly looked away from the sky as if sensing eyes on him, and met Hale's gaze.

"What?" he said, embarrassed. His cheeks predictably turned pink but unlike other times, he didn't look away or avert his gaze. "Is there something on my face?"

Hale smirked. "Just cute."

Brooks blinked and burst out laughing. "That was the lamest pick up line I've ever heard," he chuckled, the laughter reverberating through his body and Hale's leg. "Please, never use it again. For my sake."

"Oh, please. I don't need pick up lines because I've already picked you up."

"You never picked me up," Brooks said, amused. "You spent a while contemplating whether you were gay and occasionally kissing me before finally making a decision in my ex-girlfriend's house."

"You make it sound weird when you say it like that. Plus, it was my step-sister's house, too," Hale added.

"You're not exactly helping your case."

"Hey, since when did you become such a smartass?" Hale demanded with mock indignation. "I liked you better when you were shy and didn't talk much."

Brooks grinned up at him. "I learn from the best."

Hale rolled his eyes and shut him in the best way he knew how: with his mouth. Hale forgot everything and anything else as he kissed Brooks. He made a sound of surprise against Brooks' mouth when he curled his hands in Hale's shirt, and tugged him to the floor, rolling over him with surprising smoothness. Hale responded by slipping his hands under his shirt, palms flat against the warm skin, and felt Brooks shiver at his cold fingers.

"Don't," Brooks murmured, when Hale began to move his hands away. "It feels good."

Hale's eyes snapped open at the first drop of rain splashing against his face, and titled his head up just as the clouds unleashed a downpour. He groaned and reached for the picnic basket, snatching it up. "I should have known something stupid like this would ruin our date," he said, jumping to his feet along with Brooks. "Typical bloody England."

Brooks blinked rain out of his eyes and smiled. "It isn't ruined. We can just think of it as the inevitable ending."

"Romantic," Hale grinned. He could feel cold water tracing down the nape of his neck and soaking into his clothes, but Brooks was right; nothing could ruin this night. "Okay, so, back to my house to camp out from the rain?"

He looked startled. "Your house?"

"Well, yeah, I live five minutes away," Hale said, grabbing his hand and tugging him out through the trees dripping water down. "And your parents fucking terrify me, so I'd rather not go in there."

"Your house it is," Brooks smiled.

They hurried along wet streets illuminated only by the weak flicker of the streetlights, hands clasped together and laughing. Avoiding the downpour was impossible — they were both soaked in seconds, clothes clinging to their skin and water dripping from their hair. Hale pulled Brooks a stop outside his front door and lifted a finger to his lips, indicating ro keep quiet. Brooks nodded. He'd told his parents he was going round to Will's house and would be home late, so not to wait up for him, but he wasn't sure how to explain Brooks' presence if he woke them up by accident. Better just to get safely and quietly to his bedroom. Hale ushered Brooks silently into the house out of the relentless rain and kicked his wet shoes off, taking his hand again to lead him upstairs.

"The third step creaks," Hale whispered. "Tread carefully."

"Noted," Brooks whispered back.

They crept into Hale's bedroom and he closed the door shut behind him with a soft click. Brooks was standing in the middle of the room, rainwater clinging to his eyelashes and his eyes bright in the darkness of the room. Despite how cold and wet they were, there was a small smile on his lips when he met Hale's gaze.

"That was exciting." Brooks pushed wet hair out of his eyes. "Running home in the rain? Very Jane Austen."

"Well, I'm glad you thought so. I definitely planned that," Hale said. "As you know Jane Austen is, of course, my muse and inspiration."

"I'm sure she is," Brooks laughed, knowing very well that Hale would never willingly go near a book.

The smart thing to do now would be to do dry off and change out of their wet clothes. Hale knew that, but he'd spent the whole night holding himself back from touching Brooks now that they were finally alone and he didn't think he could resist the temptation any longer. Brooks was clearly thinking the same thing as Hale moved towards him judging from the way he closed the rest of the distance between them with one small step, kissing him in the same breath. He tasted like rain and pancakes and nighttime and Hale couldn't get enough of it. He curled his hands in the front of his wet shirt, pulling him closer until there wasn't any space between them, but it still wasn't enough.

Hale tugged Brooks to the bed, without breaking the kiss, and then they were tangled among the covers. There was no uncertainty or hesitation as Hale pushed up the hem of Brooks' shirt in an impatient gesture for it to come off and his own followed, abandoned to a damp pile on his bedroom floor. He knew his skin was still cold from the rain but he felt hot all over, a blaze spreading through his chest right down to his fingertips as he rolled over atop Brooks, pulling back to stare down at him. Brooks stared back at him with pupils blown wide and flushed cheeks.

The air was practically sparking where their skin met and Hale felt the possibility, the desire, of what was unfamiliar to him yet something he'd wanted for so long. He let his hand rest atop Brook's chest, feeling the pounding of his heart against his palm, before trailing fingers along his collarbone and coming to a stop lightly against his cheek.

"Do you want to?" Hale asked in a low murmur.

He didn't have to clarify what he meant. They both knew.

"Yes," Brooks said, softly, breathless. "Do you?"

"Is that even a question?"

Hale kissed him again, the only answer he needed to give, only for Brooks to draw back slightly. "But we don't have any — "

Hale reached over to pull open his bedside table drawer and fished out the small foil-wrapped packet. "I may not have gone as far as actually sleeping with any girls," Hale said, at Brooks' surprised look, "but I had to keep up the pretence of heterosexuality, right?"

Brooks laughed. "Guess that pretence died with me."

"It most certainly did," Hale agreed, his voice dropping a husky tenor as he ran his thumb slowly across Brook's lower lip. He liked the way he felt Brooks shiver beneath his touch and tighten his grip on Hale, where his hands were curled around the back of his neck. "Let's put it to rest for good."

Brooks smiled as he tangled his hands in Hale's dark hair and drew him down for another kiss, not the first and certainly not the last time, losing themselves in one another as the rainy night dragged on into the early hours of the morning.