Trigger warning it's not bad I promise. But you know that when Im going easy on you it's cos something bad about to happen. U know you love me.
Xoxo Gossip Girl

OKay but can I just say that Serena from Gossip Girl is a fucking bItcH I wanna stab her so bad!!!!

As Andy drives, Remington connects his phone to the radio to play music, shuffling his recent playlist and leaning back in the seat. "You know, darling," he begins, "you're prettty."

Andy smiles. He would never admit it, but Remington complimenting him never fails to make him feel at least a little bit better. "You're pretty," he returns, "and cute. What the fuck are we listening to?"

"It's Poppy. She's great."

The older raises an eyebrow. "I'm so confused right now. Is this pop or metal?"

"It's everything, babe."

"No."

Remington giggles. "Sorry. I forgot."

"You're the one who said it was gross in the first place, sweetheart," Andy reminds the boy, amused and happy to be going away for a bit.

"Yeah, well..."

Turning onto the motorway, Andy shakes his head. "Good come back you got there, honey."

Remington turns up the music as Poppy starts screaming 'get me bloody', smiling. "Shut up."

"This is actually the best thing I've every heard," the man remarks, "it sounds like a demon in a tutu and I fucking love it."

"A demon in a tutu? That's the best fucking thing I've heard, lemme tell you."

The airport is fairly quiet because it's a weekday and most people are either at school or at work, so it doesn't take long for them to check in and hand over the suitcase that they packed last night, after having a pillow fight and then a water fight with the bottle of water that Andy has beside the bed.

They sit in the Costa and share a pot of tea, Remington running his fingers slowly over the scar on Andy's wrist. He does it quite a lot. Andy likes it. He was scared of Remington being put off touching his arm because of it, so to have to boy doing this is comforting, soothing.

"I booked the same villa," he says, after pouring some more tea into his mug.

Remington moves his hand from Andy's wrist to pick up his drink. "So...does that mean we can go skinny dipping again?" He grins and sips the tea, putting it down and returning his hand to it's previous position.

Andy chuckles. "Sure does."

"Cool, cool."

They go comfortably quiet, listening to the noise of strangers talking around them. Remington leans back in his chair, yawning and stretching, rolling his eyes at his huaband, who raises an eyebrow. "You good?" Andy asks, teasingly so.

"Yep."

"That was cute."

The boy rolls his eyes again. "You better have got me an aniversary gift or I'm leaving you."

Andy smiles. "I'm not telling you."

"Bitch."

"Fuck you."

"Is that the gift? 'cause I'm quite happy with that."

Andy laughs. "You're so immature."

"I know. I have a question."

Watching Remington's fingers on his wrist, Andy hums. "What might that be, princess?"

Remington doesn't respond straight away. He traces the scar slowly as he talks. "Why didn't you tell me you wanted to die?" His voice is soft to ensure no one else hears. It's a touchy subject. He knows it is.

The initial response from Andy is a sigh. "I didn't think it was that bad," he answers, "I thought I was just-I don't know-sad?"

Remington frowns. "I want you to tell me when you're sad, Andy."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just didn't really know what to say, to be honest. And I felt bad because I know you're suicidal a lot of the time so I kinda felt like it didn't matter."

"I don't fucking care if I'm in the midst of a breakdown. It does matter, Andy. You matter," he says, tracing over his name tattooed into Andy's skin. They both got the other's name tattooed on their one year aniversary, on the inside of their wrist so when they hold hands, the names are close. And because when Remington wanted to cut himself he would see the name on his wrist and it sometimes helped.

"So do you."

"That's not what we're talking about."

Andy shakes his head.

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

Remington puts a finger under his lover's chin to make the man look at him. "Turning it around onto me because you think I'm more important than you."

"No I wasn't."

The singer nods. "You were. I asked about you being suicidal and you started talking about me being suicidal. I know I'm suicidal, and you help me a lot. But that doesn't mean you don't deserve help from me, too, darling. I love that you do so much for me but I wish you'd do more for yourself."

Andy furrows his brows. He hadn't really thought about it before. "Do I really do that?"

"Yep. All the time."

The man looks down, whispering, "oh,"

Remington kisses over the tattoo. "Hey, it's okay. I just wanted you to know so you can work on it, okay? I didn't mean to make you sad."

"Tell me whenever I do it, okay?"

"Sure."

Tha plane ride is univentful and fairly quiet, and Remington sleeps on Andy's shoulder for most of it, waking when they're landing and he has to plug himself back in. They get a taxi from the airport to the Villa, leaving a tip for the driver and getting out of the car cheerfully.

Remington drags the suitcase into the Villa once Andy has unlocked the door with the key that was on top of the door frame, just where they were told it would be. He pulls the bag into the large bedroom and falls down onto the bed with a satisfied sigh. "Mm, I missed it here," Remington announces, letting Andy pull him up so he's sitting.

"Me too. You're gonna wanna change out of those clothes, though. You might melt."

"Darling, the only time I melt is when you...nevermind, I'm not saying tha outloud."

Andy chuckles and unzips the suitcase. "You're gross."

"Oh, I know. Pass me a t-shirt or something."

Andy is actually surprised that Remington is willing to wear a t-shirt in public. Usually he can't bare to show his arms at all. "What do you wanna do? Beach? Or we can stay here and sit by the pool."

"Beach. As long as Emerson isn't gonna try and drown me again."

"I don't think that's gonna happen. Here, shirt."

Remington takes the piece of clothing, putting it beside him on the bed and taking the hoodie he's wearing off. "You know when I had to get weighed two days ago and never told you how that went?"

Sitting down on the bed, Andy hums.

"I gained eight pounds since last time. They said I'm twenty three pounds off being a healthy weight again." He pulls the shirt on. "So if I keep going like I am now, then by our next aniversary I'll be healthy, right?"

"That sounds right, yeah."

"And that's scary."

"I'm proud of you."

"Okay, but it's scary."

"The best things are the hardest, sweetie," Andy says, "how come you never told me?"

Remington stands up and shrugs. "I was ashamed 'cause I thought I was fat, so..."

The older shakes his head, standing up, too. "No need to be ashamed. You're always beautiful. And, honey, you're not fat."

"Okay, come on, beach, That sand won't throw itself at you."

"Charming."

"Like I said when we were here last time. You've gotta live with me forever, so have fun with that. Can't say I didn't warn you."

Andy kisses Remington. "I wouldn't want anyone else. Kiss me again and let's go."

That one kiss turns into much more and they never do make it to the beach, not today.

;0