Page 44 of Small Sacrifices

When they get to Reid's apartment, things are awkward. This surprises no one—Reid is involved, after all. This sort of situation is new to him. He's never even kissed anyone before. He doesn't know where to start a conversation like this. And on top of that, he's already emotionally exhausted.

They talk about nothing while Reid whips up a stir fry. And then they're silent while they eat. Not that Everett doesn't try to keep the conversation going, but Reid just can't deal with talking and eating at the same time after the day he's had.

By the time they're finished with their meal, Everett practically shoots upright to claim dish-duty.

Reid, who isn't about to touch wet plates, tells him to put the clean dishes on the drying rack and goes to sit down on the couch.

It's not like it's very far away from the couch. Reid's apartment is tiny.

"So what does this mean, then?" Reid asks, while Everett can't look at him.

There's a clanking sound, followed by muffled cursing. Reid grins. He's not so sure that it's a good thing—but knowing it's him provoking these kinds of reactions from Everett feels brilliant.

"Jesus Christ," Everett says. "You're something else. Not gonna make small talk first to ease me into the conversation?"

"No."

That gets Reid a laugh. "I see." For a moment, he hears the movement of the sponge in a pot. "Well, I'd say it means whatever you want it to mean. I already messed up once today. I don't wanna make it worse."

Huh. That's probably considerate, but it feels wrong. He doesn't want to make the decisions here. Or, worse, take the initiative. That just sounds stressful.

"It takes two to tango," Reid quotes at Everett, which makes him snort. He waits for more of a reaction, but he doesn't get it. So he continues: "Also, after the day I've had, I'm fresh out of energy to lead a conversation. I'd like to get this cleared up, but I'll need your help with that."

"Oh. Are you sure? We can do this when you're feeling better."

Reid presses his eyes shut against the frustration welling up in him. Again, nice sentiment. But he just said that he wanted to do it. Everett means well , he reminds himself before he takes a deep breath.

"If we don't do this now, I'll be stressing out about it until we do," he says.

His answer is the gurgling of the sink. With butterflies in his stomach, he watches Everett dry his hands and then immediately run them through his hair.

For a moment, Reid wonders if he's pushing too hard, if he's overwhelming Everett with his need for honesty. But then he sees Everett take another deep breath, releasing the tension from his body. When he turns around, his expression is breathtakingly vulnerable.

Reid grips his thighs to keep himself from reaching out. This is important, and it's clearly difficult for Everett too. The situation feels delicate.

Everett doesn't speak until he's settled on the couch, one leg propped up on the cushion, his body angled towards Reid. His eyes dart over Reid's face as if searching for clues.

"Okay," he says. "Well, the reason I said that is that I'd pretty much be up for anything where you're concerned. I really like you, and I wanna see where this goes if you're up for it. I'd also be happy to be your friend, I just... It might take a bit for me to get there."

As soon as Everett is done speaking, he's got his bottom lip between his teeth and is chewing on it. It's so distracting that it takes Reid a moment to realize that he's supposed to talk now.

"Oh."

Everett's teeth are unnaturally white, which makes them even more striking against the dark pink of his lip. Reid has to avert his eyes and stare at an art print of play fighting magpies on his wall to gather his thoughts.

"I'm afraid I can't give you a precise answer. I don't really..." He hesitates. "This is all new to me."

It's not something he tells people, because it's a surefire way to get made fun of.

He's twenty-five years old. Most people have been in a few relationships by his age.

And even if they haven't, they've had sex.

Men are supposed to want these things, Reid knows that.

Briana always tells him it shouldn't matter what other people do or expect from him. But it does.

Everett just nods. "You've never been with a guy. I get that."

Ah. Well. If only.

"I've never been with anyone," Reid corrects.

At first, Everett frowns. But the moment his eyes widen, Reid knows he understood. He can see the thoughts racing behind Everett's eyes.

"On purpose?" Everett asks finally. "Like, do you not want to or..."

As tempted as he is to let Everett think and find out how he would continue that sentence, Reid takes pity on him.

"Not on purpose, no. But in high school, I was bullied quite a bit, and it's been difficult for me to let people in ever since. I spend a lot of my time alone. Not exactly prime circumstances for meeting a partner."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Reid shrugs. "I'm fine now. I enjoy being alone. Too many people exhaust me."

"Do I exhaust you?" Everett asks, an edge of vulnerability in his voice.

Reid considers it. "Not anymore. The first few times..."

Everett winces at the thought. "Yeah, I get that. We didn't exactly get off to the best start. So... are you just generally unsure of this? Because if you have questions, I'll try my best to answer them."

Reid almost laughs. Of course, he has questions. He always has questions—usually far too many of them. Best get them out of the way now, if they're already doing this.

"When you say 'up for anything', do you mean a relationship?" he asks. "Because I'm not interested in casual sex."

His eyes home in on Everett's lips when they give an amused twitch.

"I kind of got that. But yeah, I guess. I mean, usually, I'd call it dating first, just to see if we're compatible.

Never been one for commitment." He laughs self-deprecatingly.

"But if you feel better calling it a relationship, we could do that. "

"Oh." Somehow, that's a lot more honest than what Reid was expecting. "And your father?"

Because that's the crux of the issue, isn't it? His father was the entire reason to avoid this. Everett made that decision only a week ago. What's changed since then?

With a groan, Everett throws his head back. "Fuck my father, honestly. He can't control my life forever. I'm mostly concerned that it'll hurt your job if he finds out. You said it was important to you."

That's true. Reid did indeed say that. Before he found out that Governor Mackenzie knew about the faked assessment. And before Mr. Wright did what he did.

"Circumstances may have changed a bit," Reid says. God, he'll have to tell him, won't he? Going by the way Everett sits up straighter, he definitely will.

"What did he do now?"

"Nothing," Reid says. Which is true. That assessment was falsified over ten years ago. And the thing with Mr. Wright isn't the governor's fault. He'll tell Everett, just not today.

Evidently suspicious, Everett squints at him, but seems to decide to let it go.

They're looking at each other again. Staring, really. It's interesting. Usually, having this amount of attention on him makes Reid supremely uncomfortable. But not now. His heart is beating quickly, and his palms are sweaty. But for maybe the first time in his life, this feels like a good thing.

When Everett's teeth dig into his lip again, Reid can't help but think back to the kiss in the parking lot.

Disappointment tinges the realization that he can't even really remember what it felt like.

Or—well. He remembers the feeling of dry lips on his.

But it's overshadowed by surprise and indignation.

Reid never got around to actually experiencing it.

"Are we gonna try this, then?" Everett asks, ripping Reid out of his thoughts. His eyes are so bright and hopeful that it makes a shudder run down Reid's back.

It's almost scary how easy it is to nod. He doesn't think about it, he just wants. He wants so much. As much as it's unfamiliar territory, he hopes that's a good thing.

A brilliant smile spreads on Everett's face. He reaches out, but then snatches his hand back before he can touch Reid. "That's great! Can I just... ask a question about boundaries?"

"Sure." Reid is good with boundaries. And he's grateful that—this time—Everett is asking. He'd rather avoid another reaction like earlier.

"Right. So... when you said you didn't want me to touch you without consent or warning. Can you tell me what you mean? I just wanna make sure I do this right."

Ah. Reid rubs his palms against the denim of his jeans. "Well, I'm not sure about asking every time. But make sure I know what you're doing. And give me the opportunity to say no. Maybe... maybe ask if it's something new."

He can't imagine much that he'd want to say no to. And he doesn't want to make a big thing of this. But he gets overwhelmed sometimes. Better safe than sorry.

Everett takes that in stride and just nods. "So earlier... the problem was just that I didn't ask?"

"Well..." Reid sighs. "That too. But I was already annoyed with you because of that text. You said we were friends, and then you said something like that. I get upset when things don't fit. And those two things definitely didn't fit."

"Right," Everett says. "Because things need to be clear for you. Can I just… I have another question. And I really don't want to upset you, but I think it might be important?"

Right. Reid takes a deep breath. That's not anxiety-inducing at all. Only good things have ever been said after such a preamble. "Go ahead."

"Are you autistic?"

It's so unexpectedly direct that Reid briefly chokes on air and starts coughing. When he finally answers, his voice is hoarse.