I'm feeling nice so have a cute, not triggering chapter.

When Remington pushes the door open, Andy is already sitting on the couch in the visiting room, and the boy grins at him. "Good afternoon," he greets, making Andy smile.

"Good afternoon to you, sweetheart. You seem cheerful."

Remington falls down onto the couch beside his husband with a sigh. "I am."

"Gimme a hug, princess."

The boy frowns. "I'm too dangerous to hug," he mumbles.

Andy shakes his head. "Dangerous my ass. You can't tell me you don't want a hug." He takes Remington's hand.

"Yeah, I do, but..."

"There is no but, hon." Andy says, kissing the younger's kunckles twice. "Life is too short to turn down hugs from your husband."

Remington smiles. "Okay, but if I kill you, it's your fault."

"I can live with that. Here, come cuddle. I'm only here for an hour."

"An hour! That sucks!" He hits the cushioned arm rest with his hand dramatically.

The man chuckles. "Exactly, so give me a hug, silly."

Remington crawls into Andy's lap finally, exhaling. "I'm not silly," he insists, "so shut up."

"How's it going here, sweetie? How're you feeling? What's your number?"

The brown-eyed boy shrugs. Andy's arms feel safe around him, like a familiar, protective place for him. "Thirty one. I've been better, but also...I've been worse. I ate all my dinner last night!"

He sounds so proud of himself and it makes Andy smile. "That's great, pretty! I'm proud of you!"

"I even talked in group therapy today."

Andy smiles and kisses Remington's head. "Aren't you thriving here, hey? What did you talk about?"

The singer leans back to look at Andy's face, drawing a finger down his cheek. "Just Holly," he answers, "there's a girl here who I'm pretty sure has an abusive mother. I feel bad for her. She's called Kacey."

"You are so sweet, you know that? You're like the human version of candy floss."

Remington scrunches his face up. "Candy floss is gross. So you just called me gross."

"Candy floss is sweet and soft and pretty. Don't you think that sounds just like you?"

"No." 

Andy raises an eyebrow. "Oh, why not?"

"Because," Remington begins, giggling. "I'm not pretty."

The older wipes an eyelash from under his lover's eye. "That's a lie. Your eyes are gorgeous. I don't say that enough."

Remington smiles and closes his eyes. "You're making me blush," he complains, "do you wanna see my room? I decorated it."

"Absolutely, I do. Lead the way."

Getting up off Andy's lap, Remington pulls him up off the couch. "How's Em and Sebby?" He asks as he opens the door.

"They're okay. They miss you. I think they're gonna come with me to visit you in a few days." Andy follows Remington down the hall.

"Why didn't they come today?"

"Emerson is spending a day with Shy and Sebastian's doing something in the studio with Johnny. This place is big."

Remington hums. "I'm honestly surprised I've not got lost and had a meltdown in a corner somewhere yet." He opens his bedroom door and pulls Andy in. "I have to keep the door open when there's someone else in here. Do you like it?"

"Did you draw this?" Andy asks, admiring a pen drawing of him stuck to the wall with blu-tac.

"Oh, yeah! Last night, because I was missing you badly. I didn't even use a photo."

The man carefully pulls it off the wall and sits on the bed with it. "Wow, this is beautiful. You're so fucking talented."

Remington lies on his back on the bed. "I'm so fucking un-talented. It's on shitty paper so I don't know if I even want it."

"Don't you even think about throwing this away. I'll keep it if you don't want it. I brought you something, by the way."

The boy perks up. "You did? Why?"

Andy laughs. "What do you mean, why? Because I love you, obviously. Here, sit up and I'll give it to you.

"What is it?" Remington sits up.

Andy pulls something from his wallet, giving it to his husband and kissing his cheek. It's a photo of the two of them that he's printed out. One of the selfies Remington took on his Instagram when they were in Greece, all tanned and happy. "Since you're not allowed your phone, I thought I'd print out a few photos for you to have."

Remington's heart melts. "Why are you literally perfect?" He stands up. "Where the fuck did I put the blu-tac?"

"How's your therapist here?"

"Eh, he's fine. He's no Abigail, but he's fine." The packet of blu-tac is on the little desk and he pulls some out. "Oh my God, you look so fucking hot in this picture! Andy, your fucking cheek bones! Holy fuck!"

The man just laughs.

"Can you like print this one off a hundred times and I'll cover the wall in it?"

"You are so precious. How can you be admiring my cheekbones and not yours, sweetie?"

Remington sticks the photo to the wall by the bed. "Shush. Oh, when you come back in a few days can you bring my sketchbook? Because the paper they give me might as well be loo roll." He lies back on the bed with a satisfied sigh, smiling up at Andy.

"Course I can. I'll bring another hoodie, too, if you like."

"Yes please! Can you bring that one black one with the writing on the arm? I love that one." He looks towards the door when there's a knock. "Hi Kacey."

The girl smiles. "Hi. I wanted to ask you something, but you're busy, so..."

"He's just my husband. Andy, this is Kacey. Kacey, Andy. I can talk in-like-fifteen minutes, yeah?'

"Okay, sure! Hey Andy."

"Hiya. Nice shirt. Good band."

She looks down at her shirt. "Oh, thanks. You like KISS?"

"Love them."

Kacey smoothes the fabric down. "I'll come back in fifteen minutes," she says to Remington, "bye Andy."

"Isn't she sweet?" Remington says once she's gone.

Andy hums. "She is."