Chapter 18

"Newt…" Leo warned.

It came out muffled from the amount of toothpaste in his mouth. He still held the toothbrush between his lips, poised to continue brushing once Newt quit hovering, but Newt wasn't scared by the tone. Leo's eyes were bright as they side-eyed him, his mouth curved in a smile he was doing his best to control.

"Can I kiss you?" Newt asked.

Leo exhaled, but it was staged, playful, something they'd now done a hundred times in the last four weeks, and it wasn't weird anymore. It was normal. Wonderfully normal. He pulled the toothbrush from his mouth and sighed for dramatic effect, but his lips were in a full smile, and he responded, "I guess so."

Newt kissed the corner of Leo's mouth, grimacing at the foaming toothpaste he had to wipe from his lips.

"Serves you right," Leo said with a laugh before resuming his brushing.

Leo's hesitance over kissing hadn't lasted long. He relaxed his cautious stance on it once Newt had made it clear he was only after pecks.

They were pecking.

But there were different kinds of pecks, playful ones like Newt interrupting Leo brushing his teeth, or hanging his head off the top bunk and demanding a peck ‘spiderman-style' or straddling Leo's lap while he did press-ups and trying to catch his lips.

They were fun, full of crinkled-eyed smiles and snorts of laughter.

Then there were pecks when they were lying down before lights out, which seemed more intimate just from the position. Newt especially liked the one they shared just before they went to sleep. It was warm, longer lasting, with equal pressure from both of them.

But Newt's favourite were the sleepy ones to his neck whenever he stirred in the night with bad dreams about floating away into infinite darkness. They were slow, slurred, a little wet, and accompanied by Leo's arm pulling him even closer and his hand closing on Newt's wrist, shackling them together. Those kisses, they were all Leo.

When Newt told Scott in confidence about the ‘pecking', he'd frowned, shrugged, then responded, "You do you, as long as you're happy."

And Newt was happy.

The butterflies were happy and had stopped trying to float Newt to the ceiling whenever their lips touched.

Leo checked his watch. "It's almost time."

Newt groaned and flung himself down on the bottom bunk. It was October 31 and the conclusion of the flash-forward episode of The Street.

Leo had been clock-watching throughout the day, much to Newt's amusement.

Leo clambered over Newt, taking his position behind him on the bed with his back against the wall. He leaned on his elbow and propped his head up on his hand as the intro to The Street began.

Newt preferred the sight of Leo's chest to the soap opera and fiddled with the neck of Leo's vest, tugging and releasing it.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked.

"No," Leo replied, not taking his eyes off the screen.

Newt pouted and opened his mouth to speak, but Leo shushed him.

"You can kiss me on the advert break if you behave."

Newt narrowed his eyes, but Leo was too engrossed to notice. Newt plotted how he was going to kiss Leo for the full fifteen minutes until the break, then as soon as the erectile dysfunction advert started, he surged up to kiss Leo's cheeks, his chin, his nose, his lips. Leo had his eyes shut and a smile on his lips as Newt pressed pecks all over him.

"Satisfied?" Leo asked.

Newt nodded. "Until the next break."

Cindy's scream wiped Leo's smile from his face. Newt rolled his eyes and toyed with the top of his vest as he waited for The Street to finish. He ran his finger lightly over the letters of Leo's tattoo.

"That tickles."

"Does it?" Newt asked with faux innocence, then he ran his finger even lighter over Leo's skin, following the outline of the black ink until Leo shivered.

Mr No Pain.

That didn't mean he wasn't ticklish, though.

He kept doing it, relishing in Leo's squirming.

"I knew she wasn't in that coffin," Leo breathed.

The music to The Street blared from the speaker. Newt didn't need to turn over to know the credits were rolling up the screen.

"You," Leo said, looking down at Newt.

Newt stilled his finger on Leo's chest. "Me?"

"Don't act all innocent," Leo said, pushing Newt onto his back. "I said it tickled. Let's see how you like it."

Newt thrashed as Leo tickled him, laughing until he couldn't breathe. Leo straddled him and stopped his playful attack. He pressed the back of his fingers to Newt's flushed cheeks.

"You've gone so red." He kept touching. "I wish I could feel it."

His hand cupped Newt's cheek, then he stroked a thumb over Newt's lips.

"Do you like it?"

Leo paused. "Like what?"

"My mouth."

Leo pressed his lips together to hold his laugh. He smiled when he said, "Yeah, Newt, I like your mouth."

"What do you like about it?"

"I don't know."

"Give me one thing you like about it."

Leo ran his fingers over Newt's lips. "It's soft."

Newt reached out a tentative hand and cupped Leo's face. He mirrored him, stroking his fingers against Leo's scarred bottom lip. "I like yours because it's yours."

"How eloquent." Leo smirked.

"Your lips are warm, and a little rough, but when I kiss them, it's the feeling I get in my stomach that I like the most."

"What feeling is that?"

"Butterflies." Newt flicked his gaze up to Leo's eyes. "Do you get them when I kiss you?"

"Yes, and…"

"And…"

"When I wake up in the morning and you're still in my bed. I feel them. I have for a while now. Even when you dribble all over my pillow?—"

Newt lifted his head. "I do not?—"

Leo lowered himself down, bracing most of his weight on his forearms on either side of Newt's head. His eyes, more gold than brown, shone, and they darted from Newt's mouth to his eyes, then back again.

"And when you snore. My God, do you snore."

Newt bumped the tip of his nose to Leo's before dropping back onto his pillow. "Lies, it's all lies."

Leo smiled as he closed the distance and pressed a kiss to Newt's lips. He shifted, taking his place against the back wall. Newt rolled onto his side, facing Leo. He reached for Leo, cupping his cheek and running his thumb over his mouth. The scars stole the pink of his lips when Newt pressed, and the biggest one cut through Leo's top lip, making his cupid's bow wonky.

"Most of them happened when I was young," Leo said. "I guess it's difficult to convince a baby that can't feel to stop biting its lips until they bleed."

"That must've been upsetting for your parents."

Leo blinked. "I think it's part of the reason I ended up in care."

"In care?"

"From what I understand, my dad left my mum when I was around eighteen months, and she couldn't cope with me, and social service deemed me unsafe in her care."

Newt sat up fast. "Why? What did she do?"

"She'd tie my hands together to stop me biting my fingers." Leo frowned. "I don't blame her. I'm not mad. She just didn't know how to cope with a child like me, biting and scratching itself bloody, lips scarred up, fingertips all misshapen, tongue sliced and diced on a weekly basis."

"Were you in care long?"

"Yes. No one wanted to adopt a child with a complicated and life-limiting condition. I was in care until I was old enough to leave."

"Like Mickey," Newt whispered.

Leo hummed in agreement. "For the longest time, all I wanted was a family." He shook his head. "Not anymore."

"Why not?"

"I stopped wishing for that when I turned twenty-five."

Newt frowned. "That's specific."

Leo shrugged. "Stone told me you were adopted for a time. But he doesn't know much about what happened when you were. He said you never talk about it." Leo swallowed hard. "It worries him. His head is full of horror stories of what might have happened to you."

"I loved it there."

Leo blinked. "What?"

"I loved it there. The farm was magical. You could see all the stars at night. I'd never seen that many before, and there were sheep, lambs, pigs, and piglets." Newt wetted his lips. "You get paid a monthly fee by the government for adopting a child. I think that, and the free labour, were the reason there were so many of us. All boys. We shared a big room, and I didn't talk to any of them, didn't make friends, but it was nice." He looked at Leo's chin instead of his eyes. "It was too busy and too loud to think about my mum or my brothers, and that was a relief. It was so much better than the quiet of the care home where I'd spend hours reliving the police officer telling us our parents were dead, and their funeral, and the last time I saw Jude and Mickey."

Leo traced a finger over the star on Newt's head. Welsh had recently redone his signature cut. Newt's eyes fluttered closed at the contact.

"What went wrong?" Leo asked.

"Me. I did." Newt pressed his lips in a grim line. "I made the farmer angry."

"How?"

"He had pigs and sheep, and one dinner time, I refused to eat. The farmer, Pete, asked me why, and I said because I knew it had come from the farm. I didn't want to eat the animals I'd helped look after, and he said that it was okay, it was my choice, and that he understood."

Leo frowned. "Then what was the issue?"

"I don't always understand when I'm being mocked. What felt like him being understanding was the opposite. I didn't realise I was goading him by saying I thought it was cruel and there were plenty of other things we could eat, grow and sell. He was nodding along, with big eyes and a smile, agreeing, encouraging me to say more, and I could feel the tension in the room, could see it on the older boys' faces, but I didn't understand it. It was confusing, but it kept escalating, until the farmer was saying he was a caveman, a savage, and me, I agreed, because he was smiling, and nodding, and I didn't understand. Then he snapped and threw his plate at the wall. He stomped out of the room, cursing and smashing stuff." Newt bit his lip. "And his wife told me not to wind him up, said he'd been under a lot of pressure, but I didn't mean to. I really didn't."

"I know," Leo said softly, running his hand over the top of Newt's hair.

"It's just, he was putting words in my mouth and nodding along like they were the right thing to say, like we agreed, and I was a stupid kid that didn't realise I was pushing his buttons."

"Then what happened?"

"Nothing at first. I wouldn't eat meat, which made him huff and snarl, so then I tried to eat it, tried to force it down, but that made him worse, and I didn't know how to make it better. One day he made me get in his truck. He stunk of booze, and I didn't want to, but he shouted at me, so I did. Then he drove me to the abattoir. He showed me what they do to the animals, and when I tried to run, he grabbed me by the back of the neck and squeezed. He made me stay there. He made me listen, and smell it, and when I refused to open my eyes to watch, he forced me to the floor so I could feel it on my skin, and then…I wasn't there anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I wasn't in my own head anymore. I was somewhere else, but I remember seeing the farmer pick me up from the floor. I remember him shaking me and slapping me when I didn't respond."

Leo tensed. "He…he hit you."

"Yes. Kept shouting at me to wake up. And then my memory is patchy, confusing. Days merged with weeks. But I do remember Pete and Dr Bell talking. He told her I'd snuck in the back of the truck when he was on the way to the abattoir, said I'd stumbled onto the killing floor and fainted, and that was the reason I was having some kind of psychotic episode."

"That bastard," Leo growled through his teeth. "I understand why you've never told Stone." His jaw flexed. "He'd kill that farmer."

Newt swallowed. "He doesn't have to. He's dead. So is my old doctor, Dr Bell. They're gone."

"Good."

"I don't like blood, not just because it reminds me of the death and chaos on that killing floor, but because I'd been scared. I'd wanted to get away, and I couldn't, he wouldn't let me, and I'd tried so hard not to think about my mum, but in that moment all I wanted was her. I wanted her to stop this man from hurting me. I wanted her to take me away from there. I wanted her to come back to me like she'd promised she would, but she wasn't coming back. She was never coming back, and I didn't understand why she'd chosen to leave me."

"Remember what Jude said. She didn't choose that. She wanted to come back to you, however she could, even if it meant her being locked up until her last breath." Leo tapped Newt's cheek. "You hang on to that."

"I do." He smiled before burying his face into Leo's chest. He fixated on the comforting thump of his heart.