fuck the youth

He can’t help a raspy giggle when Brad says, ‘Nope’ in response to his question. He feels like a child but perhaps that’s what he needs; to be babied, just for a little while. He won’t complain if Brad is the one to do the babying. He rests his cheek on Brad’s bony shoulder, watching the hallways flicker passed through lidded eyes. He’s so tired. He hasn’t been able to sleep since he disappeared, and sleeping was so nice. So nice. They reach Brad’s floor and Knowa’s been lulled into something calm by Brad’s easy, rhythmic gait. His fingers are laced on Brad’s shoulder so that he doesn’t fall, legs crossed at Brad’s back, bare feet moving slightly as Brad does. “I’m tired,” he says softly, more of a comment to hear his own voice rather than alert Brad to it. He wants to sleep, desperately, but he also wants to spend time with Brad. Will coffee work? Probably not. Worth a shot. “But I missed you, so I don’t want to sleep. Or try to sleep. Okay?”

"You can sleep if you want to, Knowa. I'll still be here when you wake up." He reassured and pulled Knowa into his lap, nuzzling into his neck and yawning. "I haven't really slept much myself, to be honest. Can't really find sleep anymore..." He yawned again and cursed himself. "You can-- totally, nap man, I'll be--" Yawn. "Right here."

Surely, Brad’s isn’t much cleaner but it doesn’t have memories there. It doesn’t have memories of watching Charlie wake up, slow and sleepy, or the soft, warm, clothed kisses through Charlie’s mask. He rests his head on Brad’s shoulder for a few seconds, fingers playing idly with his friends hair, before he makes moves to try and get down from Brad’s arms. “You can let me go now,” he murmurs, loosening his legs. He likes being held by Brad, likes it a lot, but he feels guilty making Brad carry him to his apartment. “We can walk together?” Knowa decides that, when they walk, he will hold Brad’s hand, lace their fingers together. Let him know that he’s really not going to leave again to the best of his abilities.

When he asks to be put down, Brad shakes his head quickly. "Nope." he says and continues to walk down the hall, carrying Knowa like a toddler. He's always been light enough that it wouldn't bother him and brad wants to keep him very close for a while.

A tear spills down his cheek, cold and wet and he presses closer, bony chest to bony chest, arms around Brad’s neck again. “I’m here now,” he breathes. “I’m here now.”

Knowa's thin hands cupped Brad's face, and once he sees the tears building in his friend's eyes, he can't stop from tearing up himself. He shakes his head slightly at him. "It's ok now. It's all ok now that you're here." He pressed a small kiss to Knowa's nose before hugging him back to his chest again. "Do you want to go into your room? Or back to mine?" He asked, feeling a bit weird just standing in the hallways. 

It feels right to be in Brad’s arms, in his company. To hear his voice. He regrets leaving, regrets it so much as he buries his face into Brad’s neck like a kitten greeting its counterpart. He feels a lump forming in his throat and makes a low, low noise to ease it away. He will not cry. He won’t allow it. He’s not been this happy in a long, long time and he won’t ruin it by being an overemotional girl. Victoria and Adrian chatter quietly in the back of his skull but he’s gained control now; he’s finally figured out how to keep them from getting out, from taking his body. They were as depressed as he was during the past summer months. “I missed you,” he says, and his voice still sounds foreign even to himself. “I missed you, I missed you, I missed you.” It becomes a chant as the tears build in his throat again, as he kisses across Brad’s face like a mother welcoming home a child who was gone for a very long time. He kisses Brad’s forehead, leaves his lips there, “I missed you so much.”

Knowa's kisses on his face were welcomed and appreciated. He felt his face heat up slightly, blushing at Knowa's words. "Ugh, fuck, Knowa man, I missed you so much I can't even put it into words. Where the fuck have you been?" He pressed a small kiss into his jaw, the only place he could reach with Knowa's lips still on his forehead. "Life's been such shit man...." He said quietly to him, closing his eyes and relaxing into his friend's neck. 

oh. wow. thanks dude, wow. 

He’s not sure why he came down to his old room today, of all days. It still hurts to be here. Still feels like Charlie is lingering in the walls. Everything is dusty as he meanders through the apartment, an invisible apparition. The only sign that he’s there is the soft marks his bare feet leave in the grime on the floorboards. But then, there it is. His name. A question. Words on a familiar voice, from a well-known mouth and perhaps one of his favourite people. Brad. He’s here. He slithers through a wall because he doesn’t have the will-power to walk slowly, calmly around the apartment to the front door - which is where he feels like Brad is, unless he’s already left. His stomach drops with the thought but as he crosses through another wall he sees him. Long, stringy hair, worn, tired face. The scruff around his chin. He smiles, flickers into something solid, and hopes that he doesn’t look as bad as he feels. “I’m here,” he says, and his voice is harsh from disuse and smoking whenever he finds a pack someone left carelessly on their dining table. He feels real again, alive almost. He’s not let himself be visible in months. “I’m here,” he says again, and this time it’s more to himself. He’s real. He’s Knowa. He exists.

There it was again, his voice calling to Brad, telling him he's here. This can't be my imagination, he thinks. The voice is rough and quiet but it's Knowa's for sure. Brad lifts his head and sure enough, his little friend is standing in the broken door way of his room, looking about as broken down and raw as Brad. He stares in disbelief for a second before his face breaks into an ear to ear grin. "Knowa what the fuCK!!!" He yells before literally picking the man up and hugging him as tight as he can with his weak muscles.