twenty seven ;
h a l e

"AND," HALE SAID, ADDING a pinch of garlic that he'd found in the huge pantry, "I'm done."

He took a step back to admire the finished product. As it so happened, chicken noodle soup was one of the few dishes he could cook from memory, because it had such a simple recipe and his mum made it whenever he was ill. He dipped his wooden spoon with awkwardly plastered fingers into the soup and tasted it with a satisfied nod. Damn, if this didn't fix Brooks right up, Hale didn't know what could.

"Hey, it actually looks good," Brooks said, gripping the edges of his stool as he leant forward to peer into the pan. He still looked too flushed and exhausted but Hale was glad he'd at least stopped shivering. "It probably smells good too, but I can't smell anything, which sucks."

"Trust me, it smells great," Hale said, ladling large spoonfuls of the steaming soup into a bowl. "Ready to have your mind blown?"

Brooks looked amused. "Really that good, huh?"

"Of course. Cooking is one of my many talents."

"If you say so," Brooks smiled, spinning around in his barstool as Hale rummaged around in the drawers in search of a spoon.

Hale stepped around the counter with the bowl and spoon, preparing to slide it across to him when he had a better idea. Brooks had his elbows propped on the counter and was blinking sleepily at him, patiently waiting. "You know," Hale drawled, with a mischievous look, "you really are very sick, Brooks. Too weak to even pick up a spoon."

Brooks looked confused. "Huh?"

"I doubt you could feed yourself," Hale went on, scooping up a spoonful of soup with a smirk. "So let me do it for you."

Brooks' eyes widened and quickly leant back. "W-what? No way," he stammered, getting so flustered that his entire face turned an even brighter shade of red. "You're not feeding me, Hale!"

"Why not?" Hale asked innocently. "It's a perfectly reasonable request. There doesn't have to be anything sexual about it. Unless, of course, you want there to be," Hale added with a teasing look.

Hale was just messing with him because it was too much fun not to, especially when Brooks only got even more embarrassed. "I don't...um, you don't have to...shut up," he grumbled, when Hale's smirk only widened. "I hate you, sometimes."

"Sure you do. Now let me look after you properly," Hale said, wiggling the spoon towards his mouth. "Open wide."

Brooks scrunched his nose up in that adorable manner and finally sighed, opening his mouth. Hale grinned in triumph and stuck the spoon into his mouth. Brooks' eyes widened again, for an entirely different reason, and he swallowed the mouthful. "Well?" Hale said. "Mind blown or what?"

"This is actually really good," Brooks admitted, and Hale couldn't decide whether he was affronted or pleased by his awed expression. He figured he should just take the compliment and go with the latter. "Since when could you cook so well?"

"I help my mum make this stuff every time the twins were ill, just so there was enough for both of them. TJ is a strange kid who eats more when he's sick."

Brooks looked impressed. "Well, offer her my praise. You could become a chef with this."

"Oh yeah," Hale agreed, with a thoughtful nod. "Definitely. I could open up a restaurant dedicated to chicken noodle soup."

"And I could act as your financial advisor, considering your strong aversion to numbers."

"You might have to act as my doctor too," Hale added, wiggling his fingers which Brooks had plastered in...well, in plasters. "It's guaranteed there'd be more disasters like this while I'm in the kitchen."

"Financial advisor and doctor. That's a lot of pressure," Brooks said, with a teasing smile. "I don't know if I can handle it."

"You'll manage. You are the smart one in this relationship, after all."

Brooks didn't reply immediately, averting his gaze to the bowl on the counter, a sure sign Hale had somehow managed to broach an uncomfortable topic. Hale knew better than to outright demand he spit it out; with Brooks, it was better to wait out whatever was bothering him.

"What relationship?" he finally asked. At Hale's mystified look, he elaborated, "what kind of relationship is this? The one between us?"

It was the same conversation Hale had brought up at the park, one they'd never gotten the chance to finish due to external distractions. But there wasn't anything to interrupt them here, only an empty kitchen they had all to themselves. If Brooks had asked him a few days ago, he would have harboured the same doubts he'd had at the park, the same hesitations. The uncertainty as to whether he wanted to officially date Brooks.

But now, looking at Brooks and his anxious eyes and pale face, he couldn't think of anything he'd rather do than take him out on dates and hold his hand and not give a shit about what anyone else thought. He knew it would be unfair to ask him to stay exclusive to Hale if they didn't date, and the thought of Brooks kissing someone made his blood boil. He'd lied to himself that he didn't care, so it hurt less when he found out about Brooks' kiss with Reed, but the sting at the thought of someone else touching him was impossible to ignore.

He was jealous. He was jealous, and he didn't even care. It was a price he was willing to pay as long as he knew he was the only one who'd be going anywhere near Brooks' lips.

"I know what relationship I want it to be," Hale said softly, leaning across the counter towards him. His eyes were huge and such a fascinating mix of blue and green Hale could have stared into them for days. "One where you're my boyfriend."

Brooks' breath caught in his throat. "Really?"

Hale answered by closing the distance between them and pressing his lips to his, flu be damned. Brooks responded immediately, his lips parting with a low moan as he leant into the kiss. Hale bit at his lip in response and the spoon in his hand clattered to the floor, long forgotten. Hale moved so the counter was no longer between them, not breaking contact from Brooks as he slid around the corner so he was directly in front of the barstool.

Hale slipped between his legs and caught his face in his hands, pulling him even closer. His skin was feverish and hot to the touch, and his hands were just warm as they moved down his back. Hale didn't know whether it was just Brook's fever, but everything about this kiss felt a hundred times more heated and passionate and burning with desire, mingling together to the point Hale couldn't differentiate where he ended and Brooks began.

Hale's hands were just beginning to roam beneath his shirt when he pulled away so abruptly Hale felt cold at the sudden absence. Before Hale had a chance to feel hurt at how quickly he'd moved, Brooks turned away and coughed into his hand hard enough that Hale felt it reverberate through his entire frame. Hale moved his hand up to rub soothing circles into his shoulder until the coughing fit passed.

"Sorry," Brooks croaked, rubbing his throat with an apologetic look. "I sure know how to kill the mood."

"I don't know about that," Hale teased. "That was some pretty sexy coughing."

Brooks groaned. "Please don't."

"It could have been worse," Hale pointed out, absently running his fingers through Brooks' tangled brown curls. "You could have thrown up on me."

"That's a mortifying thought. Let's not talk about it."

"Whatever you say."

"And now I've probably passed my nastiness onto you," he mumbled, dropping his forehead against Hale's chest. His heart was still racing from the kiss and Brooks could probably hear it. "Sorry."

"Hey, no apologies allowed. I'm the one who kissed you and I have no regrets."

"You probably will when you end up aching like an old man."

"I won't," Hale said, his voice a low murmur. "I'd gladly take any disease if it means I get to kiss you."

Brooks tipped his head back to stare up at him with wide eyes. "Even Ebola?"

"Even Ebola," Hale chuckled.

"Wow," Brooks murmured, a smile curving at his lips. "You're a modern day Romeo."

"And you're my Juliet, I presume?"

"Hey. Why do I have to be the girl?"

"Because you act like one."

"I do not!"

"You're right," Hale grinned, tilting his head down to press his forehead against Brooks'. "Most girls aren't as terrified of dogs as you are."

Brooks opened his mouth for an indignant protest, and Hale cut him off with another kiss. This one was considerably more mild and gentle, seeing as Hale didn't want to push him to another coughing fit. Hale pulled away before it could get too long, the air filled with their ragged breathing.

"I think that's enough excitement for you," Hale said breathlessly. "As delightfully fun as this is, you need to actually get some rest."

Brooks looked dazed. "I'm getting plenty of rest."

"Yeah?" Hale pressed a hand against his cheek and frowned at how feverish he felt. "Well, I'm saying it's not enough. You're going to bed."

"What about the chicken noodle soup? You put so much effort into it," Brooks sighed, casting the bowl a sorry look. "It shouldn't go to waste."

"Not a problem. This is why we have fridges so these things last longer," Hale said, reluctantly extracting himself from Brooks. "And I made enough to last you over the next few days, so you have no excuse for not eating."

Hale cleared up the mess he'd made in the kitchen as quickly as possible and transferred the soup to a plastic container, placing it in the fridge. He then let Brooks lead him out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Brooks paused at the bottom of the stairs, glancing uncertainly at him.

"Are you...I mean, do you need to go home?" Brooks asked, with a shy look that made Hale want to kiss him all over again. "I've kept you here long enough. If you need to - "

"Nope, not getting rid of me that easily, Brooks," Hale interjected, slipping his hand into Brooks'. "I'm not leaving until I see you get into bed with my own two eyes. Don't trust you to follow my others otherwise."

Brooks glanced down at their intertwined hands with wide eyes and then looked back at Hale with a smile that lit up the entire room. Brooks tightened his grip on Hale's hand and tugged him after him, walking up the stairs. And then more stairs. "Jesus, how many floors does this house have?" Hale asked in disbelief.

"Four," Brooks said, without batting an eye. "Unless you count the basement, but that's more of a TV room than anything."

Brooks' room was neat and tidy, just as Hale expected, and easily triple the size of his own bedroom. Brooks stood to the side and waited with fidgeting hands as Hale's gaze swept across the whole room, from the neutral white walls to the glass doors leading out to a small balcony. "Lame," Hale grinned, tapping the large poster of the periodic table tacked up above his desk.

Brooks rolled his eyes. "Once a nerd, always a nerd."

The words were followed by a badly suppressed yawn he tried to hide with a hand, and Hale felt a little guilty. He probably wouldn't even be awake right now if Hale wasn't here. "Enough distractions," Hale declared, steering Brooks by the shoulders towards his bed. "You're getting rest now, whether you like it or not."

Brooks obediently clambered into the bed and tugged the duvet up to his chin, staring at Hale with a silent question in his gaze. Now what? All the sex jokes and teasing about getting into bed together he might have made under normal circumstances had left him, and his mouth went dry as he stared back at Brooks. Did he join him? Leave? Sit on the floor? At the desk? He wasn't used to feeling so unsure, and didn't know what to do about it.

"Hale," Brooks whispered, catching at his sleeve. "Stay."

There wasn't a doubt in his mind about what he was going to do now. Hale kicked off his shoes and joined him on the bed, sitting on top of the duvet. Brooks curled against his side and rested his head against Hale's shoulder, their hands brushing above the covers. The silence was a comfortable one, filled with their steady breathing and peaceful thoughts. Brooks was like a huge hot water bottle at his side, radiating heat, but Hale didn't mind.

"Hale?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we, uh..." Brooks looked up at him shyly from under thick lashes. "Does this mean we're dating now?"

Hale smiled. "I hope so."

Brooks mirrored the smile, soft and sleepy, and began playing with Hale's fingers. Hale watched Brooks watching their intertwined fingers, unable to believe someone as sweet and nice as Brooks actually liked him. It was a nice kind of disbelief, warm and fuzzy at the edges like sunshine.

"Brooks?"

His voice was sleepy when he said, "Mhm?"

"Did you really think MJ was a real person?"

"Yeah," Brooks murmured, too tired to even sound embarrassed about it. "And I hated her, too. Even though she was going to be a doctor and save lives and you shouldn't hate people who do nice things like saving lives."

Hale chuckled. "But she doesn't exist."

"It didn't matter. She had everything I wanted. She had you."

Hale heart rate sped up at the almost inaudible words and he glanced at Brooks, certain he must be able to hear the sudden pounding. But Brooks' eyes had slipped shut and his breathing had evened out, somehow managing to have fallen asleep seconds after speaking. He must have been really tired, Hale thought, with a small smile. He probably wouldn't even remember what he'd said but Hale knew he wouldn't forget.

She had you.

Hale stared at Brooks as he slept, knowing he must have looked like a complete perv and not caring either way. He looked so peaceful, so innocent, in his sleep that Hale couldn't help reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. Brooks unconsciously shifted closer towards Hale at the touch and mumbled something under his breath, too quietly for Hale to catch.

Hale knew he should probably go now, that Brooks' parents could come home at any second and would come up to check on their son, but he couldn't bring himself to leave.  He didn't want this moment to end, with Brooks' warm breath tickling his collarbone with every exhale and Hale's thumb absently tracing patterns against his palm, didn't want to have to break it.

But he'd told his mum he'd be home for dinner and the longer he stuck around, the more likely he'd be to get caught. Hale slowly moved out from beneath Brooks, careful not to wake him up, and eased him down so his head was resting against the pillow. He stirred a little but didn't wake up. Hale slipped his shoes back on as quietly as possible and paused, looking down at Brooks one last time.

Hale brushed his lips against his forehead. "Sweet dreams," he murmured, before leaving the room.

He tried to be as silent and stealthy as possible as he made his way back downstairs, thankful it was a straight path he couldn't get lost on, but it was a wasted effort. A man who must have been Brooks' dad had just come in the front door, which happened to be directly opposite the staircase. Hale froze on the last step and tried to look as unsuspicious as possible. Usually, he was a master at the poker face, but this man gave him a run for his money.

He hardly looked like Brooks at all, his face all sharp lines and severity that would have put even the strictest teachers to shame. His features lacked any of the warmth that Brooks' did. The only similarity Hale could be certain of was that they had the same caramel coloured hair, although his father's was streaked through with grey.

"Who are you?" Brooks' dad demanded. "And what are you doing in my house?"

"I'm a friend a of Brooks. Sir," he added belatedly, getting the sense that he was the kind of person who put a lot of weight on status. "My name's Hale. Hale Ryves."

The man, if anything, looked even less welcoming. "You didn't answer my second question."

"Oh, right," Hale said, caught off-guard by the steeliness of his tone. He decided his best bet was to go with the same excuse he'd given Adam. "I was just dropping off the work he'd missed at school."

"I see. And you didn't think it appropriate to introduce yourself to the owner of the house you're entering?"

Hale was at a loss of words. He'd met his fair share of intimidating people, but this man instilled fear in his heart like no one else had managed to do. It was more than just his stern expression or merciless tone; everything from his rigid stance and posture seemed to radiate power. Hale wanted to point out that he couldn't have introduced himself, seeing as he'd only just entered the house, but he didn't think it would be appreciated.

He finally settled with an apology. "Sorry," Hale said, although it came out as more of a question than anything.

"Are you? You don't sound certain."

"Sorry," Hale repeated, as firmly as possible. He felt like a child being scolded for stealing from the cookie jar after being explicitly told to stay away from it. Hale decided the sooner he got the hell out of here, the better, because this man's icy look was beginning to make him fear for his life. "I should probably get going. Thanks for your hospitality and everything."

Yeah, right. He probably would have received a warmer welcome stepping into prison.

"You were leaving?" Brooks' father managed to look disapproving about that too. "How rude of Brooklyn not to show you out himself. I'll be sure to have a word with him about his atrocious manners."

"His manners are fine," Hale replied, an edge to his tone. He almost regretted it at the deadly look he received in response but refused to let his unease show on his face. "I didn't need to be shown out. I know where the door is."

Brooks' father had nothing to say to that, instead watching with a disdainful gaze as Hale walked to the front door and snatched up his bag from where he'd left it by the door. He yanked the door open, ready to bolt, but paused halfway out of the house. Was he supposed to say something? Nice meeting you? Sure, and Satan was just a misunderstood angel with good intentions. Hale didn't think even he could pull of such a big lie.

And this coming from the guy who'd convinced Mrs Mulligan he couldn't hand in his homework because his dog ate it.

But this was Brooks' dad, and as much he gave Hale the creeps, he owed it to Brooks to try to salvage this disaster of a conversation. On the plus side, he figured he couldn't make this first impression any worse than it already was.

"Thank you for having me," Hale said slowly, forcing himself to turn around and meet the man's gaze. "You have a lovely..." Son? Maybe not. "...house."

"A compliment which is an insincere as it is cheap, I assume."

Hale just about stopped his jaw dropping at the blatant rudeness of his statement, but it was a near thing. Who the hell said that kind of shit? In response to what was supposed to be a compliment, no less? And to think, Hale had been willing to at least be civil to him. Well, fuck that. He wasn't about to suck up to this man just because he wanted to sleep with his son. He'd sleep with Brooks regardless of what this asshole thought.

"Just kidding," Hale said bluntly. "Terribly old fashioned decor in this place. And the coffee machine sucks."

Hale slammed the door in his face before he had a chance to reply and got the hell out of there.