The Pervert Court

Neil is quiet as he moves around Andrew, turning off any electronics that could give an annoying light - even unplugging their TV so the tiny little power light can't grate on Andrew's nerves. He drapes blankets from the ottoman over the few windows in the livingroom, then sits beside him. "Noise, too?" he asks, his voice quiet and still gravelly with the last bits of sleep. Andrew shakes his head. "Tell me what you need."

"A new head," Andrew grumbles as he collapses into Neil's side. His shoulder is a white hot point where he laid his temple and Andrew groans in annoyance as he lifts his head, eyes closed this time. He's not vomiting on Neil. Not this time.

"All I have is the usual head, and I don't think making your blood rush will be helpful right now."

Andrew huffs and pinches Neil's thigh. "Making me laugh with shitty jokes isn't helping."

"I can't help that I'm a comedic genius," Neil replies, voice flat. Andrew hates that it's enough to make him want to laugh again. He hates how much of the good Neil brings to him. His migraine must be his penance for this. "How about the heating pad around your head? Last time that helped."

Andrew nods and waits for Neil to grab it from their hall closet before he starts maneuvering them on the couch. His hands are shaking and he can barely open his eyes, but he presses Neil on his back into the cushions before climbing between his legs and laying against his chest. The heating pad is already warm as Neil lays it against Andrew's head before crossing his arms over the back. Not to smother him, but to use the weight to give pressure to help the heat work its magic. Andrew closes his eyes and shudders, the relief sending shivers down his spine. It doesn't completely fix the problem, but it's helping.

Helping enough that he dozes off before waking with a start. Neil gently rubs the back of his neck before lifting his arms so Andrew can move his head. He groans in pain and annoyance - the migraine is still there. Nowadays he grows restless with the prolonged pain, with fighting the urge to medicate and not have to care. He has Neil to keep an eye on, and he doesn't want to subject him to himself on painkillers. Neil doesn't deserve that. The painkillers only work half the time, anyways. Andrew takes a few more sips of the water Neil made him, grimacing at the weird taste of the packet. "Is this sugar-free?"

"Yes."

"Never buy them again."

"They were a gift from Kev. I'll throw them out later."

Andrew hums and sets his head down. This time the heating pad only serves to irritate him and he swats Neil's hands away before sitting up. "Gonna shower." He lets Andrew do just that, perching on the toilet while he pretends not to watch and ogle the blond as he strips down. "You're sure head won't help?" Andrew asks as he steps into the tub.

Neil smirks. "If you let me turn the lights on I'll blow you."

Andrew flicks water at Neil before leaning against the tiled wall and closing his eyes. The water is hot enough to produce steam, beating against his shoulders. It helps, but he's too dizzy to stay on his feet and close his eyes. He's ready to give up when Neil stands and steps into the shower, pulling Andrew against his still clothed chest. "Take a break," he instructs as he cups the back of Andrew's head. He's perfectly under the spray of water, unable to help a shaky moan at the feeling as it hits the base of his skull.

They stay like that until Andrew's swaying is too much for Neil to ignore. He turns the water lukewarm to cool Andrew down before stepping out. A fluffy towel is wrapped around Andrew and he's instructed to sit atop the toilet while Neil strips down and disappears. He comes back with comfy clothes - two hoodies that have been stolen from Kevin and basketball shorts so old and tattered they have to be his from before they met. But Andrew lets Neil dress him, forehead resting against his chest as he presses a few kisses to Neil's feverish skin before allowing himself to be led back to the livingroom.

He lays on his back, this time, draping the heating pad across his forehead and tucking the end behind his head. Neil lays on top of him before covering them with a light blanket. His fingers are still warm as they trace shapes on Andrew's bicep and chest, his other arm once again draped across the blond's forehead to offer pressure and help the heating pad stay in place.

When he wakes again, Neil feeds him a few grapes before Andrew stops him, muttering about chewing hurting his head. He's ordered to drink a few more sips of the electrolyte water, watching Neil scarf down a handful of crackers and some deli meat before they lay down in the same position as before. His head is feeling better, and he knows by 10pm he should be fine. They'll both stay up the rest of the night and most of the next day, Neil antagonizing a grumpy Andrew until he pushes him into their bedroom and smothers him to sleep.

And the answer is, we don't.

The unhoused people who come here seeking refuge 99% of the time understand that they will be kicked out if they misbehave.

The people you have to watch out for are Jessica, who only came because the kid she didn't want had to visit for a homework assignment and she just *needs* to yell at her child for asking to borrow two books or stay an extra five minutes, or Michael, who came in to look at porn on our computers for whatever fucking reason, or Karen who just wanted to come by to throw a fit that the particular book she wanted was checked out and harrass our staff about our collection being too limited.

And we did what we could to help. He was incredibly kind and patient despite his obvious anxiety and stress, more than most able bodied, housed patrons are to us under much less dire conditions. I liked knowing that we were the first place he came.

We have so many people like this who come in everyday. Many are quiet and keep to themselves, but sometimes they talk to us.

They tell us about how they're taking a few courses on a scholarship they applied for from our library's computer at the local community college to get their diploma. Or ask about a manga or dvd or book we might have to help them pass the time.

One woman, who comes in daily with her tattered walker always says hello to me and likes to work on the new jigsaw puzzle with me when we set one out.

So like, treat unhoused people like people. Treat disabled people like people. I don't want my library to feel like the only safe space in the world, but I'm glad it can be one of them.

We know from Jean's narration* that when it came to Kevin's abuse in the Nest it was often more psychological than physical. He was made to watch Jean's torture at Riko's hand, tend to his wounds, and keep it a secret from the other Ravens. Living his life like this while in constant space / presence of his abuser meant Kevin's ability to shut off his own emotions was one of the few ways he could protect himself.

This also let Kevin in some small way protect Jean as any closeness between them would be seen as a slight against Riko. Why I think Riko breaking Kevin's hand had less to do with Kevin outplaying him but about the two of them learning French behind his back.

Even the "bitchy" side of Kevin is part performance as Jean explains he used it to distract the other Ravens from Jean's trauma & Riko's abuse. It also allowed him to have distance from the other Ravens and their own ways to taunt / tease / harm each other. Their words cannot hurt him because they are so far beneath him they're not worth listening to.