When Cody had walked into the house, he had expected his brother to be either passed out on the sofa or ready to knock his teeth out for whatever reason he could come up with that night. Instead, Cody found a lit mudroom and an empty kitchen/living room area. He took off his shoes and searched the fridge for something to eat. He stood at the kitchen counter, gobbling up the bowl of cereal and his head turned towards the hallway drowned in yellow light from time to time to make sure his brother couldn't catch him eating. When he was done eating, he washed the bowl and put it away, becoming confident that his mother and brother were indeed fast asleep.

The small living room in Cody's bungalow home was covered with a cheap carpet to hide the cracks on the tiles below. The television was placed on the floor since there wasn't any table it could sit on. There was a pile of scattered CD cases next to it. The flashing lights from the screen pierced Cody's eyes in the dark. The lights were off, but the boy was on the sofa, flipping through T.V. channels before settling on a low-budget soap opera that was playing. As much as Cody despised his brother, he did pay for the television bill, the rent, and the water—and everything. It was one of the reasons he remained meek around him. He still needed a place to live and food to eat.

The room was cool since the night was windy and cool air filtered in through the netted windows. As Cody watched the drama show, a smile formed on his face as he remembered his interaction with Quinn. how flustered the both of them had been as Quinn had worked up the courage to ask him that question.

Cody was still shocked.

Quinn had asked him out and it hadn't been a dream.

Cody's face heated up as he thought of all the times Quinn would do something out of place, and he would hope it was something more before beating the mere thought of the possibility out of his mind. His wishful thinking had been on to something, and now he could stop panicking about his crush on Quinn and ease into it.

I wonder... He thought to himself, watching as the couple on the television shared a kiss. He swallowed back the spit that formed in the back of his mouth at the thought of it. If Quinn liked him that way too, that meant that the boy wanted to kiss him, right? He raised his fingers to his face, feeling his lips with the tips of his fingers as his mind dared to imagine it. He curled up on the sofa, guessing that Quinn's full lips would be soft on his—warm when applying pressure.

He shut his eyes, trying to calm down before he got too excited. Cody had known he was gay for a long time. It hadn't been something that had jumped out of nowhere, but it had been a gradual realization over time. His life hadn't just been stable enough for him to act out on his hormones like other teens. While people fuzzed about dating, Cody worried about stepping into his own house or meeting up with his brother. He hadn't seen Quinn in that way at first, but over time he couldn't ignore the pilling feeling of longing tangled up with gratitude when he spent time with Quinn.

He let out a sigh, smiling against his fingers before putting them away. It wasn't something he should worry about. Quinn was always quick to leave him alone when he didn't want to do anything, and Quinn was always vocal when he wanted to do or share anything with Cody. The boy assumed it would be the same with everything else—including physical intimacy.

There was nothing to worry about.

"What are you smiling about, brat?" Cody felt his blood run cold at the sound of his brother's voice. He had assumed everyone had gone to bed, but apparently not.

Cody turned to look at his brother who was standing by the entrance to the hallway. "Nothing," Cody said, answering his question from before as his eyes moved to stare down at the black carpet. "I'm not smiling at anything, Charles."

Charles ignores his answer, deciding to yell at him instead. "What the fuck are you smiling for? You think you have the right to be happy, don't you? Well, you don't."

Cody swallowed the saliva that built up at the back of his throat. He could feel himself shaking, but he kept his composure by staring at the carpet and not raising his gaze to meet Charles.

"You're not going to say anything?" Charles asked, and Cody remained quiet as the drama show on television filled the void with its dramatic sound and cue effects.

Cody heard footsteps come his way, and he started to panic. He could sense Charles was hovering over him, standing right behind the sofa he was sitting on.

"You were smiling just a minute ago," Charles said, not wanting to let it go. He laughed, knocking Cody's head. "What's wrong? Cat's got your tongue?"

Cody refused to answer, keeping his eyes on the ground as his brother continued to harass him. He was used to it, and if he was lucky, he would get out with just a slap in the face and nothing more. Cody could smell the alcohol on his brother's clothes. It was nauseating.

Cody let out a gasp when he was pushed forward by the head. He tumbles off the couch, kneeling over on the floor. He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tight, but he didn't say anything.

"You're still not going to talk?" Charles' voice was right in front of him now. The older boy must have moved closer to continue harassing him.

Cody, against his better judgment, spoke up. "What do you want me to say?" he asked, opening his eyes before rubbing at the part of his head Cody had soccer punched. "What?" Cody asked again, looking up at his brother with a fed-up look in his eyes.

Charles frowns down at him. "What were you smiling about?"

Cody sighed. "I came back from watching some basketball." That was partly true, he had watched Quinn and his friends play, that wasn't why he had been beaming from ear to ear, though.

Charles laughed. "You, sports?" He was in a nightshirt and a pair of sweatpants. Cody could smell the booze on him. His nose wrinkled, and bile rose in his throat. Charles was always drinking. Cody couldn't remember the last time he hadn't smelled alcohol on the boy.

Cody remained quiet, deciding not to entertain his brother anymore. Charles was just looking for a reason to harass him, that was all. Charles grew frustrated and kicked him in his stomach. Air left Cody's lungs as he crouched over, lying in a fetal position as his brother aimed kick after kick at him.

A door creaked in the lit-up hallway, making the two boys look towards its entrance. No one came out, but their mother spoke up.

"What's going on out there? Charles?" Her voice came from her room, meaning that she must have Charles' slaps and kicks from her room. Charles looked a bit shocked at the sound of her voice. He must have thought she was asleep. Charles looked down at Cody, giving him one last frown before stepping away from him.

"Nothing Ma," Charles said, before looking back at Cody who was still lying on the floor. "Get up," Charles muttered, kicking him again.

Cody got up and began to leap towards the hallway.

"Sleep in the living room, I don't want you in our room." Cody paused at the sound of his brother's words.

Cody sighed, nodding his head even though he was on the verge of tears. "Okay," he managed to let out without bursting into tears.

Charles walks past him, before disappearing into the dark hallway, leaving Cody alone in the dimly lit sitting room. He sighed, looking up when he heard the door to the bedroom that he shared with Charles slam close. He looked around the living room. The television was still flooding the room with colorful lights, and the noise coming from it filled what would have been the white noise left in Cody's head from the slap he'd received.

The boy licked his lips, bending down to pick up the remote he had dropped as he fell. He turned off the television, sucking the room of all light and sound. He could hear his heart spasm in his ears, and he had to open his mouth to let himself breathe since his chest was heavy from the weight of the tears he was fighting not to shed. He walked over to the sofa, before crawling into it and turning his head to the side so that his face was buried in the backrest.

His skin felt hot. His cheeks were burning with fever-like warmth, and the pressure in his eyes caused by tears trying to make themselves visible was painful. He almost gave in to the sobbing—almost.

In the darkness, the frail boy smiled. He would have cried until he passed out if this had been any other day, but he had something—someone—to look forward to. It was a great feeling, and it made his heart race as images of the bronze-skinned looped smiling taller boy flashed through his mind.

"I've got Quinn," he whispered under his breath like he was afraid his brother would walk into the living room and demand to know who that was.

No, he wouldn't allow that at all. He was going to keep Quinn a secret. Charles wasn't going to mess this up for him too. Cody's hands squeezed into fists as he reprocessed what Quinn had asked him. He had asked him on a date. Just remembering that made him overwhelmingly happy, and for once in a very long time, Cody didn't cry himself to sleep while under his mother's roof.