trigger warning

The drive home is strangely quiet. The two hardly exchange two words. It's unusual. Like they have nothing to talk about. But they do. They have so much they should be talking about. Neither of them know what to say, how to start the conversation.

Remington watches cars pass, and trees and people walking down the pavements. Every so often he looks at Andy and frowns. Something is wrong with the man. He seems vacant. It's odd. His eyes, which are focussed on the road, seem glazed over, glassy, like he's somewhere else entirely. Like he's driving on autopilot. And his face, it's so stiff. A sad, empty expression is painted over his features. Remington has never seen him like this before. It's upsetting.

He sighs, looks away again, wanting to ask if he's okay but not sure how. Andy glances at him, an unreadable, almost pained look on his face, and looks back before Remington can turn to see.

The boy looks down at his lap. He twists a ring on his second finger around. It's black with a silver pattern engraved in. Remington thinks it's beautiful. He looks up at Andy again. Opens his mouth to say something, but doesn't know what, and closes it.

Andy blinks. He feels like crying. The court hearing is tomorrow and him and Remington still haven't talked about it, about how he doesn't want to adopt Kacey. He glances at Remington again, thinks the young man looks beautiful in the midday sun, cheekbones sitting high on his face. He still looks so thin. He's got the sort of jawline that only someone underweight can acheive. Too sharp to be natural.

Remington frowns when Andy turns the radio on, like he's trying to drown out the world. It's loud, and it's not even a song Andy likes. Remington turns it down and finally says something, consisting of the words, "pull over."

The older gives the younger a confused look. "Why?" He asks.

"Just pull over."

Andy turns into a car park and stops the car, watching Remington undo his seatbelt and open the door.

Cool air drifting into the vehicle, Remington turns towards Andy. "Andy, what's wrong?"

"Hm?"

Remington sighs. "Are you okay? It's just-you seem kinda sad." He presses the button to undo Andy's seat belt.

The man looks at Remington and frowns. "It's nothing, Remington, I'm fine."

"You know that saying you're fine does not mean that you're fine. Tell me what's wrong. Please?"

"It's really nothing," Andy insists.

Remington shakes his head. "Look. I know it's normally the other way round, that you're normally the one asking me what's wrong. If something's wrong, Andy, I wanna know. Because I love you and I want you to be okay." He looks at Andy sympathetically. "I know something's bothering you. If you don't wanna tell me now, it's okay, but you're always telling me not to keep things in. Now I'm telling you." The young singer takes Andy's hand. "Whatever it is, I love you and I'm here for you, and you can trust me, Andy. You know you can."

"I know," Andy says, "I just don't know how to start."

"Start wherever feels right. But lemme give you a hug first." After talking, he gets out the car and walks round to Andy's side, opening the door and leaning against the car.

The older stands up out of the vehicle, looks at his husband gratefully, and accepts the hug. He rests his head on Remington's shoulder and sighs. "I don't think we can adopt Kacey," he says after a moment, "I love her, don't get me wrong, but we're not ready for that sort of responsibility. I don't think we ever will be."

Remington stays quiet. He's never heard Andy sound so stressed before.

"I know you love her. But, honey, are you really prepared for having her to look after all the time? I feel like there's so much that's been put on my shoulders recently, and this is just too much for me. I keep having to talk to your brothers because they're being fucking idiots, and everytime I see them I feel like such a bad person for getting angry at them. Honestly, Remington, I am so scared that you're gonna try and kill yourself again, or relapse, or something, and then all this shit with Kacey is just thrown at me with no warning and I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it. I can't let her down and send her to a foster home, but I'm gonna break if I don't do something, because there is so much going on in my head and I can't take anymore, Remington, I just can't." He feels tears in his eyes. "I don't wanna upset you. That is the last thing I wanna do. But I'm tired. And I know this sounds selfish, but I feel like everyone expects me to be the one who's always cleaning up their messes and comforting them, even when I don't even know what I'm doing sometimes, and it's like no one cares to ask how I am." A car drives by and Andy doesn't bother trying to stop himself crying.

Remington knows his husband is crying and it makes him teary, too. "Andy, it's okay. It's not selfish to feel like that. But no one expects you to clean up anyone's messes. You're so good at staying calm when everyone else is panicking and sometimes we take that for granted, but no one's expecting you to do anything." He has a hand on the back of Andy's head, moving his fingers slowly over his hair. "And I'm sorry, because you're right. I don't ask how you are enough. But that doesn't mean I don't care, because I do care. So much. I don't ever want you feeling so down like this. I don't want you feeling down at all. I fucking adore you and if adopting Kacey is making you feel like you're gonna break then I don't wanna do it. The last fucking thing I want is for you to feel like you're gonna break." He can practically feel Andy's stress drifting like steam from a mug of hot tea.

The man couldn't be more relieved for how understanding the younger is being. "Are you sure?" He asks. "I don't wanna upset you."

"No, but I'm not about to disagree with you on this. You're too important to me."

"You're fuckin' perfect."

Remington smiles. "You're more perfect."

"Let's go home. We have a phone call to make."

After five more minutes of quiet hugging, they get back in the car and drive the rest of the way home, both of them feeling better now they've decided what they're doing.

When they get home, Andy calls the woman who is in charge of Kacey's case, explaining how him and Remington have talked about it and decided that adoption isn't something that is going to work out for them. The woman is disappointed but understands, and assures him that a safe home will be found for Kacey.

Remington sits with Andy while he talks on the phone, sitting in the man's lap, arms around his neck, not moving when Andy puts down the phone and sighs heavily. "Sorted?" Remington asks softly.

Andy just hums. He sounds exhausted.