Chapter Text
25th November 2024
The air in the classroom was quiet on Monday morning, the rooms gradually growing colder and darker as Winter drew near. The majority of students had begun to drop their attendance in accordance with the weather, the fifth year classroom population sparser than usual today. Calum and Eoin were nowhere to be seen, much to the delight of Preston and partially Darren, who mostly remained indifferent these days. By third period, the pair had taken the other lad’s usual spot in the back corner of the class, neither listening to a word their geography teacher was saying, Preston sitting doodling in his copy whilst Darren was just close to falling asleep. His long fringe hung over his arm as his head lay on the desk, Preston only vaguely able to make out his open eyes from what view of his face he did have. The two had arranged to go to Preston’s house again, his place their preferred spot now, as opposed to the train wreck that was Darren’s.
Just as they usually do when something exciting is looming, the hours in school dragged painfully slowly, Preston close to joining his best friend in slumber. Nothing of note happened during that drag of a school day, the lack of antagonisation from Calum leaving the lads honestly a little bored. Despite the fact it was unnecessary and monotonous by this point, it still gave the two something more to engage with than schoolwork.
When the final bell eventually did roll around, the two lads wasted no time in making their way immediately out of the school gates, Preston audibly sighing with relief at their eventual freedom.
“Fuckin’ hell, that has to be the most boring day I’ve ever sat through.” He complained, cracking open the can of Dr Pepper he’d forgotten about in the bottom of his bag and taking a series of large gulps to satisfy his dry mouth.
“Ma’s life, I’m not coming in tomorrow.” Darren grumbled in agreement, heading towards the bus stop that the 40E to Cabra ran from.
Preston mumbled something in agreement, taking his seat at the bus stop and letting his spine partially relax from being stuck in his binder all day, as if he wasn’t going to have to keep it on for the next few hours on top of that with Darren coming over. He really had to tell him soon. Well, soon enough. He would at some point.
Conversation was minimal between the two lads as they waited the ten minutes on their bus although not for any other reason than their own exhaustion. When it did roll up eventually, they barged straight up to the top deck, Darren’s permanent frown deepening at the sight of a group of first years taking up almost the entire back row.
“Move, we’re sittin’ here.” Darren demanded, his dead eyes burning into the small group, most of whom were clearly more than intimidated by the sight of him.
One, however, very obviously thought he was amazing, puffing out his little chest as he snapped back at Darren, “Fuck off, we were here first.”
He couldn’t have been any taller than five foot; his ginger-blonde hair was cut into the thinnest scouse trim Preston had ever seen, the lad’s forehead visible through multiple gaps in his fringe in a more than unflattering manner.
Darren said nothing for a moment, only scowled down at the kid whilst his mates nudged him and told him to move, some trying to play off their slight fear with forced laughs. Of course, Darren would never lay a hand on a first year for something as small as sitting at the back seats of the bus - he wasn’t Calum - but that didn’t stop him from taking advantage of the fact that they all clearly thought he was going to. After a few seconds of that silent battle, the younger fella gave in, cheeks pink as he scoffed and got up from his seat, Preston laughing at the sight, even more so when Darren stuck out a leg to trip the little ginger up, sending him stumbling into an empty seat, much to the amusement of his mates.
The pair sat down in their claimed seats, Preston at the window and Darren at his side. The ashy-brunette leant his head against the glass, watching the rather dull sights of Finglas pass by below him, letting his mind wander for a few minutes before striking up conversation with Darren.
***
Within two minutes of arriving at Preston’s house, Darren already had himself tucked up in his mate’s bed, his jacket and runners strewn across the floor as he wrapped himself tightly in Preston’s unbelievably soft duvet. When the other fella entered the room a few minutes later, Darren held an arm out to the side lazily for him to fall into.
Preston snickered, climbing into the bed next to Darren and resting his head against his chest contentedly. It always made a warmth grow inside Preston, things like this. Slowly, over the past month or so, he’d come to realise he’d never actually had a genuine friend. Sure, Darren was hardly perfect and that’s also not to say he’d never been close with anyone in the past, but this was different. None of his friends from his old school had stuck around when he came out; even before that it was clear there were boundaries between them. Not in the normal sense of a friendship, but in the way that sometimes he found himself unable to comment on completely normal things, for example, a show he’d watched, without them acting as if he’d just told them he enjoyed setting homeless people on fire for a laugh. With Darren it was different because even though he’d make a few smart comments from time to time and take the piss out of Preston, it was never - these days - coming from any place of genuine malice. That’s why he just knew Darren would be okay with the whole trans situation, he was sure of it.
Darren leant his head down so the side of it rested atop Preston’s, his breathing slowing to a gentle pace the more comfortable he got. He was happy like this, hoping they could just lay here for a while now. This was exactly the sort of thing he’d tried to explain to Preston before and he understood it now. Every lad thinks about other fellas sometimes. He was enjoying cuddling up to Preston right now, but that didn’t make him gay by any means, it was just a normal thing that mates did. Him and Eoin had been in the same position countless times.
Preston snickered out of nowhere, catching Darren a little off guard. Smirking, he looked down at the lad, whose face had moved to look up at him now.
“Wha?” Darren tittered, eyebrows furrowing quizzically.
“You’d wanna clean that beard, bro. Thing’s stabbing into me head.” Preston replied, hand instinctively rubbing the back of his head where Darren’s stubble had tickled his scalp.
“Fuck off, it’s hardly a beard.” Darren dismissed, feeling the small, sharp hairs on his chin with his palm as he spoke.
“Yeah, well you’d wanna shave it off anyway. Pure look like Niall, ye do, the big hobo.” Preston joked, sitting up in the bed and looking down at Darren now, the fella shoving him lightly in response.
“Would ye fuck off! I look nothin’ like that gay cunt.” Darren retorted, actually taking a little bit of offense from the comment.
“Are ye sure? Because I’m sure I saw ye suckin’ some aulfella off down a back alley last night.” Preston teased, unable to hold back his laugh as made his joke.
“Nah, that’s it bro. Too far.” Darren smirked, pushing himself up swiftly in the bed.
Preston, already knowing where this was going, gave little attempt to protest.
“Seen your aulfella in the George last night!” He added, barely able to get his words out through his own laughter.
Darren pinned him down in a playfight, leaning over the fella and laughing as he spoke through gritted teeth, shaking Preston’s wrists that he held onto not-so-tightly with each sentence.
“Say that again! Gowon so, say it!” Darren pressed, Preston in a fit of giggles below him, unable to even catch his breath let alone repeat himself.
—
What seemed to be storm clouds had gathered in the Dublin sky during the last four hours Niall was at work. His real job this time, sitting behind the counter at Boots in Phibsborough and serving about two people the entire time. He’d taken the afternoon off school in order to be free for this extra shift, always feeling better when the money that came into his bank account was genuine, even if it was drastically less than he earned from his ‘side job’.
As Niall clocked out and left the shop, he zipped his Canada Goose coat right up to his chin, pulling the fur-edged hood up over his head. His phone had been buzzing incessantly in his pocket throughout his shift, the fella not giving any of the notifications the time of day. Reluctantly, he checked them now as he made his way down to the bus stop, puffing on his vape that he held in his free hand. There were a few normal ones: ‘E.kelly08 reposted the same video’, ‘Jack sent a snap’ and so on. The rest, of course, were from multiple ‘clients’, one fella certainly more persistent than the others. He couldn’t even bring himself to read those yet, they could wait until he was on his way.
***
After a very brief stop at his flat to change and take a quick shower, Niall was already heading back out. His Ma hadn’t even woken up when he’d come in, the woman slumped on the sofa, one of her two usual spots, the other being her bed. A used needle lay on the arm of the chair next to her, a dirty spoon discarded on the floor with a lighter likely somewhere around too. Niall had said nothing, made no attempt to wake her up. Instead, he’d just walked straight past her and over to the fridge, taking a can of Pepsi from the stacks of groceries he’d bought out of his own money and opening the boiler cupboard to switch on the heating, which also came out of his pocket. Almost everything that was in the flat was paid for by Niall. All the shopping, all of his clothes, the bills, even some of the furniture. The most his Ma ever did was collect her dole and even Niall had to take charge of getting her down there, it always just went straight to her drug fund either way, he didn’t know why he bothered at this point.
Having forgotten his leap card and being already halfway down the Ballymun road, Niall just decided to walk back to Phibsborough and bump the Luas. He didn’t care if he left this fella waiting, he was going to pay him either way. It was already dark outside as he trekked along, each car that sped past and blasted cold air his way making him regret his outfit choice of just a grey, cotton tracksuit all the more. Still, he kept on walking, knowing that he’d at least be warm once he got to this fella’s house, even if the thought was hardly consoling. He turned the music up in his airpods to full volume, slipping a snus pouch into his mouth and just wishing he was able to walk faster, not just to get out of the cold.
Niall always got an odd sense of what he could most accurately describe as excitement when he was on his way out to one of his meetings. He never gave his side job much room to sit in his mind. He went out, he did it, he took his money and he came home. Thinking about it only made it less endurable, the sickening thought that he could possibly take pleasure from the risk of doing something so disgusting as this wasn’t one that he wanted to allow anytime to think about, ever. Tonight’s fella wasn’t too bad, he wasn’t rotten looking at least. From what Niall could remember, he was around thirty-six and was paying him decently, enough to get some more food in the fridge at least.
Only when Niall got on his Luas did he take his phone out to answer the man in question. Tony, that was his name. The teen visibly cringed at his last two messages, ignoring those second thoughts that always sprung into his head as the meet-up drew closer.
‘Hi’
‘Can’t wait to take those jocks off’
Niall typed back his response robotically, he really did view this as nothing more than a job, despite all the rumours that flew around school.
‘How much u payin again?’
‘On my way now btw’
Like the desperate pervert he likely was, Tony had text back within seconds, Niall internally sighing as his Luas flew from stop to stop, edging him further to Dundrum by the second.
‘100’
‘That okay baby’
Niall grimaced at the pet name, a cold shiver running over his body.
‘Yeah’
After that, he just slipped his phone back into his trouser pocket, slumping further in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. His mind was quiet, numb. No thoughts dared filter through his head as he stared out the window of the Luas to the dark streets of town, scanning each stop for inspectors as if he’d even get off were he to see any. All they’d do is kick him off at the next stop, he knew where he was going anyway, it's not like he couldn’t just walk.
The streets of Dublin were busy tonight, the Christmas decorations that had been up since Halloween had barely passed were drawing in their annual tourists once again. A cacophony of American voices flooded Niall’s ears even with his music blasting. They laughed drunkenly and obnoxiously, sitting beside tired commuters who just wanted to get back to the comfort of their own beds. A group of teenagers stood huddled around the emergency stop button, snickering as they each egged the other on to press it, none phased by the extortionate fine for doing so. Everyone was focused on their own business, bar Niall, who wanted nothing but to avoid thinking about where it was he was going, already counting the minutes until he could take his money and leave. Still, money doesn’t come free; nothing does.
“Dundrum, Dún Droma.” Came the automated voice over the speakers after a ride which Niall wished had been longer.
Pushing past the crowds of people that were packed like sardines inside the carriage, he made his way to the door and left, opening Google Maps on his phone which had Tony’s address already set up. Despite his conflicting emotions, his pace quickened, the part of his brain which held that sick excitement for what he was about to do clearly overpowering the regret, as it always ended up doing in the moment.
It didn’t take long for Niall to reach Tony’s apartment block, the lad barely needing to look at his maps at all with how close they were to the Luas station. They seemed relatively nice, or at least better than his. The white plaster of their modern design hadn’t yet been dirtied and there was no sign of the usual teenagers sitting on their balconies as they smoked and glared at anyone who dared to walk past.
He had to turn on his flash to be able to make out the keypad besides the doorbell, squinting as he punched in for flat 13 and heard that familiar, grating buzz as the system called through to his partner for the night.
“Hello?” A man’s voice came, his South Dublin accent thick.
“Err, heya.. It’s Niall.” Niall answered, never giving the thought of using a cover name the time of day to consider.
“Ahh, right. Come on up, baby.” Tony instructed, his smirk audible.
The buzzing noise came again, this time followed by the click of the lobby door unlocking. A smirk of his own spread across Niall’s lips as he pulled the door open and stepped into the darkness of another stranger’s hallway.
—
After a more than filling meal of curry and chips from Preston’s ma, both lads were flat out. Preston lay on his back, two ibuprofen dulling the pain in his ribs and back that wearing his binder for thirteen hours straight had caused, the thing of course still on under his hoodie. Darren’s head was on his chest, the fella scrolling through tiktok with the volume up by only two bars. The TV played a random episode of Breaking Bad, its glow the only light in the small, cozy room. Preston’s attention drifted between it and Darren’s phonescreen, his body lax as drowsiness overcame the both of them. One hand gently stroked over his mate’s slightly greasy hair, Darren not seeming to mind; they’d both grown far more comfortable with each other than they could have ever imagined recently. Closing his eyes softly, Preston savoured the comfort of the moment, his drawn curtains and the heating turned up high sending him into a state of pure relaxation, Darren’s head a comforting weight on his chest.
Turning his phone off and dropping it on the mattress beside him, Darren flipped his body so he lay with his head facing Preston on his chest, the lad in question taking his hand away as Darren moved.
“Ye gonna let me stay then?” Darren yawned with the lightest of smirks, his eyelids drooping slightly as he looked up at Preston.
“I dunno, am I?” Preston giggled, the back of his fingers stroking Darren’s cheek now his hair was more difficult to reach, the lad’s face twitching involuntarily at the tickles.
“Yeah, ye are.” Darren replied, not minding the touch, “I’m not walkin’ to the bus stop in that.”
The rain, which he was referencing, lashed against Preston’s window, creating a comforting background noise when paired with the TV and the warmth of the house but certainly not something either fella was jumping at the idea of going out in.
“Alright, fine.” Preston agreed, as if he hadn’t been expecting that to happen from the start.
His fingers threaded up through the hair at the side of Darren’s head, scratching at his scalp gently before sliding back over to his face. He traced down his prominent cheekbones and down the side of his nose, finding himself smiling as he reached the bump at the bridge. Darren’s grey eyes watched his expression as he did so, a smile of his own spreading slowly across his lips, a light in his eyes that wasn’t always there appearing.
“What are ye doin’?” He asked messingly, pushing himself up so that his head no longer rested on Preston’s chest but hovered in front of his face instead.
Preston’s hand fell with Darren’s movement, although his gaze didn’t leave the other boy’s, his mind giving up on pushing away those thoughts he daren’t give any mind to recently.
“Nothin’” Preston replied with a ginger smile, finding himself unable to not be smiling around Darren these past few weeks.
“Doesn’t look like nothin.’” Darren continued to tease, his words having no bite.
The pair’s faces were unnaturally close for two friends, the tip of Preston’s round nose actually brushing against Darren's sharp one with the proximity. The brunette allowed his hand to regain its place at Darren’s cheek once again, the touch gentle and soft, his palm barely feeling like it was there yet still providing the other lad with a comforting warmth.
“Maybe it's not then.” Preston replied, unaware in the moment of his slightly flirtatious tone, Darren seemingly the same.
No more words were exchanged between the pair, nothing but a silent agreement to lean in that inch closer, to let their lips brush against each other. It was nothing but a light touch at first, although Darren found he couldn’t help himself as he moved his lips against Preston’s, the other lad taking the same initiative as he reciprocated his actions. Both boy’s eyes were closed as their short, delicate kiss grew that small bit more passionate; as passionate as they could manage for two exhausted friends. Two very good friends.