If boy on boy situations with varying degrees of intensity, religious parents, sarcastic teachers, copious amounts of fluff, British spellings, downright daft humour and the exuberantly plentiful use of profanity offends you in any way, shape, or form, this story is probably Not for You. I regret nothing.

The utterly amazing PandaGuts is a wonderful person, who drew loads of gorgeous fanart for this story. She's a gift to the human race *3* . 

Please note that because the characters are Scottish, they speak Scots and Scottish English. Scottish English grammar is slightly different from standard British English, so some dialogue might be a bit unfamiliar if you're not local.

Cheers! =]

Completed October 2011

Featured in Teen Fiction 04/01/16

2019 update: thanks so much for all your wonderful comments. Unfortunately, I can't respond to everyone individually on this book as there's just too many to keep up with, but please know that I still read and appreciate every single comment. If you do want to chat, I try to reply to all my PMs and profile messages :)

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Despite the fact that I was indeed fifteen years old, my mother and father still thought that if they sent me up to my bedroom while they 'discussed things' in low hushed tones, I wouldn't twig that something was going on. Which was why, at ten o'clock on a Saturday night, I had my face pressed up against a keyhole, trying to make out their quiet whispering.

"Well they've taken her into hospital."

I frowned. That was my mother's voice. She sounded stressed and more than slightly worried.

"And they don't know how long she'll be in but they're guessing at least another month or so."

My dad coughed and the couch squeaked, meaning he must have shifted over to sit beside my mum. I closed one eye and squinted into the keyhole, but I couldn't get a good view through the fine gap in the metal.

"Look Tracey, everything will be fine," my dad shushed, trying to halt my mum's soft sobbing. "Linda will be ok. And for the meantime, I've got no problem taking in Jay for a while... We're his Godparents after all, so it really is our responsibility."

What?

"Yeah," my mum sniffed, wringing her hands. "Why don't you go collect him after we explain everything to Ash?"

At the mention of my name I stood up a little straighter... and knocked the door open in the process.

"Um... Explain what?" I asked cautiously, trying desperately to keep my expression blank. Both my mum and dad saw right through the act and exchanged a panicked look, wondering how much I'd heard. I sighed.

"Look, explain what? Who's Jay?"

"How long have you been listening at that keyhole?" my dad demanded. I rolled my eyes. He was obviously trying to change the subject and I wasn't going to let him get away with it.

"Long enough," I murmured, shrugging casually as though it was the most natural thing in the world. My dad however, wasn't going to let me away that easily.

"How long have you been doing that? What if we'd been talking about something private?"

"Like what?" I snorted. I guess I was being rude, but I really didn't care. "My birthday present?"

"Family matters," my dad snapped. I raised an eyebrow.

"It's real nice that you don't consider me part of your family, dad. Thanks a lot."

Rather than the shocked reaction I was hoping for my dad simply glared at me like he was telepathically scolding me. He was used to my sarcastic remarks and dry humour by now. Everyone was. I was just that kid who made snarky comments in the corner for the kicks.

"Ok, ok, I get the point," I grumbled, raising my hands in defeat. I considered taking out a hankie from my back pocket and waving it like a white flag, but I didn't think my humour would be appreciated at this particular moment in time.

And the tissue wasn't exactly clean either...

"Right, you remember Linda McCallion?" my mum started. "Tall lady, blonde hair, got you that gold baby bracelet that's lying in my jewellery drawer?"

"I've got a gold baby bracelet?" I asked. "Since when? Can I sell it?"

"Not appropriate," my dad interjected, sending me a warning look. I scowled.

"What? I'm not exactly gonna use it, am I?"

My dad opened his mouth to respond, probably to tell me to shut up, when my mum interrupted.

"Linda's got lung cancer. And she took a stroke and now she's in... she's in hospital."

Her voice finished several tones higher than normal and she bit back a sob, tears welling at her eyes. I stood uncomfortably, unsure of what to do, what to say. I'd never had anyone close to me even just sick before, never mind on their deathbed.

"Oh... Uh, I'm sorry?"

My pitiful attempt at comforting my mother totally backfired, and soon thick salty tears were dribbling down her cheeks. Awkwardly, my dad wrapped an arm around her shoulders, whispering consoling words in her ear. I put my hands in my pockets and stared out the window. I was a pretty useless teenager. Just a surly, snarky git.

"Now is not the time for sarcasm, Ash Jamieson!" my dad snarled, only causing my mum to break down even more.

"I'm not being sarcastic!" I folded my arms across my chest, taking the defensive stance. "Much as you think I'm a total brat dad, I wouldn't joke about this..."

He studiously ignored my last comment.

"Linda has a son," mum mumbled after a moment, still choking back tears. "Jay. He's your age, Ash. You probably don't remember, but you used to play together as kids..."

I shook my head. I didn't remember what I had for dinner last Tuesday, never mind my toddler days. Those memories had long since disappeared.

"Anyway," she continued, wiping her streaming eyes with a shaking hand, completely disregarding the large mascara stain now imprinted on her cheek. "Your dad and I, we're his Godparents. So, you know, it's our responsibility to take him in if something happened to Linda..."

"Um... Godparents?" I asked warily. "What's a Godparent?"

My dad shot me a look. "You should know that Ash. As a practicing Catholic."

"Oh, I've been an Agnostic Atheist since I was thirteen," I replied, waving a hand of dismissal. "I just never got round to telling you guys..."

It probably wasn't the best time to drop that bombshell on my parents, but really. I hadn't attended a mass since I was twelve, so I'd been hoping my lapsing faith was kinda obvious.

"It basically means," sighed my mum. "That we're going to take in Jay, just for a while. At least until his mum gets out of hospital. Your dad's going to pick him up now."

I refrained from pointing out that dad was quite clearly still standing in the living room, his arms entwined with her own.

"So he's gonna live with us?" I asked, my eyebrows rising a good few inches at least. Mum nodded, chewing her lip.

"Oh... So will he like, take the couch or what?"

"Ash! We are not bringing the poor boy into our home only to chuck him onto the couch. He'll be sharing with you."

"Um... I don't mean to alarm you or anything," I said slowly, picking my words carefully so I didn't upset her more. "But my bedroom's tiny. It's a squeeze with just the single and the desk in there, never mind the whole shebang of another bed. Hell, I wouldn't even get a sleeping bag in there. There's a reason I've never had a mate stay over..."

The last part of that was a lie. I didn't really have any mates as such. Ok, I didn't really have any mates at all. I was just... different.

"Look, we're sorry Ash, but he's gonna have to share more than a room with you," dad said. "You're gonna have to go top and tail."

"What!?"