Trigger warning but not really it's not bad at all :)

Only Remington is visiting Sebastian today. Emerson wanted to, but Remington begged him not to because he wasn't in the mood for another argument, so he drove himself with music blasting in the car.

"I feel like we're falling apart without you," he says to Sebastian, "we keep fighting about the same things."

Sebastian wishes he was allowed to hug his brother. "Have you tried talking about it in a civil way?"

"Yes, I've tried, Sebby, but Emerson keeps getting mad at me for using Holly and my eating disorder as a excuse for being a fuck up so there's no point even trying anymore." He sighs and averts his gaze to the white clock on the wall.

The older of the two feels for Remington. He knows how Emerson can be sometimes. "You're not a fuck up, bub, you know that, don't you?"

Remington looks at his hands. "Yeah-" he says, sounding uncertain, "kind of."

"Yes. The answer is yes."

"But-"

"Alright. Let's try this. Why are you a fuck up? List the reasons."

Remington twists his wedding ring on his thin finger. "I'm anorexic," he begins.

"Not your fault."

"I was abused."

"Not your fault."

"I ruin everything."

"Not even true."

The boy looks up at his brother. "I was raped."

Sebastian shakes his head. "I asked you to list reasons you're a fuck up, bub, but you didn't. You just listed everything that makes you strong. You're anorexic yet you still manage to eat, you were abused but you didn't let that ruin your love for Andy, you don't ruin everything, and you were raped, but you didn't let that ruin your love for Andy, either. Do you see what I'm trying to say?"

Nodding, Remington lets himself smile. "Yes," he pouts, "why're you so nice to me?"

"What sort of question is that?"

"Just answer it. Please?"

"Because you're my brother and I love you, and because you've been through hell and you need people to be nice to you, and because, bub, you're my brother and I love you." He observes the young man opposite him, the way his hair is black again. He must've dyed it since the last time he visited.

Remington blushes. "You said the last one twice."

"I know."

When Remington leaves the prison, he finds Andy leaning against his car, and smiles. "How'd you get here?" He asks, and kisses the man.

Andy rubs his arms. "Got the bus. I have a question that might make you cringe but I'm gonna ask anyway."

"Okay? That's not a weird sentence."

The man chuckles. "You can say no, but I thought I'd ask anyway, in case there might be a tiny chance of you not saying no."

Remington raises an eyebrow. "Are you gonna ask or are you just gonna keep talking about the question with actually asking it?" He teases, prodding Andy's chest.

"Can I take you for lunch?" He's surprised when Remington doesn't scrunch his face up and make a noise of dissatisfaction.

Instead of shaking his head, Remington just smiles and nods. "If you drive," he says, and kisses Andy again before opening the passenger door.

Andy gets in the other side and takes the keys from Remington. "How did it go with Sebastian?" He asks, starting the car.

Remington admires Andy's effortless grace as he drives. "Really well, actually. He made me realise some stuff."

"Oh yeah?"

The boy hums, smiles. "Yeah. Like-Emerson is wrong and I'm not a fuck up." He squints in the sun. "And that it's not my fault that I have problems."

Andy turns off the main road and into a small, pretty town. "Took you long enough," he says, and Remington hits his arm. "Sorry. That's great, pretty, you're gonna have to tell me what he said because I've been trying to get you to believe that for so long." He finds a parking spot along a row of well looked after buildings, and pulls into it.

"I think I just needed to talk to my big brother," Remington says, thoughtful, and opens the car door. "Where are we?"

The streets are busy, but not so busy it that it makes Remington uncomfortable, and Andy leads him into a café, with a colourful sign and a chalkboard displaying their specials. They find a table underneath a large photo of the street fifty years ago, and Andy picks up the menu. "You don't have to have anything," he says, "if it makes you uncomfortable. You can eat at home."

Remington will never get over how considerate Andy is of everything. He is always so careful with making sure Remington feels safe, and Remington loves him for that. "No, it's okay. I'll have something small."

"Okay, great. It's good to see you smile." Andy hands the menu to his husband, and takes his hand at the same time. "Nice bracelet."

"It's yours."

Andy chuckles, runs his fingers over the younger's bony knuckles. "I know. It looks better on you."

Looking at the menu, Remington closes his hand around Andy's. "I'll just have the chicken Caesar salad, but no cheese or I'll cry."

"Course, sweetheart, I'll order." Andy stands up. "Do you want a drink? Tea?" Remington nods, and Andy walks over to the counter. He returns a minute or two later, with a smile, and sits back down. "So I ordered you a cheeseburger with extra cheese," he jokes, and Remington looks at him, unimpressed.

"Very funny."

"Mm, sorry. You know you love me."

Remington hums. "I do love you," he agrees, "unfortunately." He laughs at Andy's over-dramatic expression, and reaches across the table. "Hold my hand."

"Maybe I don't want to now."

The boy pouts. "That's not very nice," he complains, and smiles when Andy grabs his hand. "I want that," he says, pointing to a ring on Andy's finger.

"Is that right?"

Nodding, Remington looks up when someone approaches the table. The waitress puts down two mugs and a large teapot with a jug of milk, and tells them their food will be ready shortly. "Thank you," Remington says, looking down at his hand when he feels something cool on his third finger. "What-"

"It looks better on you," Andy repeats.

Remington blushes and looks at the ring. "You're the best!"

"I know. I'm awesome." He pours the tea into the mugs and adds milk, knowing how much Remington likes in his. When their food arrives, Remington tears up at the sight of parmesan on the salad, and pushes the plate towards Andy. "Excuse me," Andy calls after the waitress, and she turns around, returning to their table. "Is it okay if you take this back and get rid of the cheese?"

"Of course," the young woman says, picking up the plate and taking it away.

Remington wipes his eyes. "Fucking cheese," he mumbles.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I did asks for no cheese. Are you okay?"

With a nod, the boy picks up the mug of tea. "Yeah. Hand," he demands.

"You're cute."

The waitress returns with the Caesar salad, this time cheese-free, and Remington thanks her. He picks up his fork and stabs at a piece of chicken, his other hand safely in Andy's. "You know when me and Emerson had that fight?"

"Yeah?"

"I thought I'd be scared by him shouting but I wasn't." Remington puts the piece of chicken in his mouth, lets go of the fork, and covers his mouth with his hand.

Andy smiles. "I noticed that, too. It's awesome. You've really come so far." He avoids looking at Remington, knowing it makes him uncomfortable if anyone watches him while he eats.

Remington picks up the fork again, and chooses to ignore the older couple who are giving them dirty looks. He knows why; because they're gay. But he doesn't let it bother him. Why should he? He's in love and who should care if the person he loves is a man? It's a miracle to him that he's able to love at all after everything Holly put him through, and it sucks that some stuck up, middle-aged couple feel the need to publicly judge him about it.

Remington smiles to himself, and Andy raises an eyebrow. "What's funny," he questions, finding it so adorable how Remington does that.

"Just those people over there. I kinda wanna kiss you just to piss them off. Homophobic twats."

Andy laughs at the insult. "As much as I would love to piss them off, I'd rather they didn't give us black eyes because of it. You've had enough of those."

"That is true." He glances at the older couple again, and, without warning, leans over the table and kisses Andy. "Oops?"