Page 45 of Small Sacrifices

"I don't have a diagnosis." It's the rote response he and Briana came up with for situations like these—a non-answer, just as it is an attempt to buy time.

He can see Everett getting ready to respond and dismiss it, pretend it was a silly question to ask.

But honesty is the best foundation to build on, right?

So Reid clears his throat and continues. "But I think I might be. I fit a lot of the criteria. Social stuff is hard, and sometimes, I need things to be a certain way, or I get upset. I just… can't get diagnosed right now."

Not on his parents' dime, and certainly not on his own. Not that that seems to matter much to Everett, who just thinks briefly, then nods and smiles. "That makes sense. Do you need me to do anything differently?"

Oh. Tears sting in Reid's eyes. This is how easy it can be? No questions, no justifications? Even Briana had to be talked around until she believed him.

"Differently how?" he asks.

Everett shrugs. "Well, we've already talked about how you need direct communication.

And you don't like it when people touch you or when you don't know what the plan is.

I'll do my best to pay attention to all of that.

Is there anything else that you'd want me to do so that things are easier for you? "

Reid's entire face feels hot. Even rapid blinking probably can't hide the wet sheen in his eyes.

Internally, he curses. Why is he crying?

He shouldn't be crying right now. Everett will think something is wrong.

At his side, he touches the tips of his fingers to the pad of his thumb, one after the other.

Pinky finger, ring finger, middle finger, index finger.

Index finger, middle finger, ring finger, pinky finger…

"No, that's fine. Just… listen to me. Like you're already doing.

And don't assume I mean something different from what I'm actually, literally saying.

" That's how fights happen, Reid knows from experience.

But they've done well so far. Even in response to that answer, Everett just nods seriously.

Like it makes perfect sense to him. Reid hopes it does.

He wants to say something, to thank Everett for paying attention and being considerate. But when he opens his mouth, an enormous yawn overtakes him, stretching through his entire body, arching his neck and unfurling his arms. Everett's soft laugh cuts through the moment.

"Tired?" he asks, his voice gentle. Reid nods blearily, and Everett slaps his thighs with a resigned chuckle. "Well, then. I should probably head out."

Reid wants to protest. But he knows himself well enough to know he'll shut down if they continue this for too much longer. He's already starting to feel sluggish. If they're going to do this, and if Everett is offering to leave of his own volition, they may as well start this off on the right foot.

With a mumbled confirmation, he struggles to his feet after Everett, who’s already putting on his coat.

They come to an awkward halt at the door.

Reid doesn't know the protocol for these types of situations, so he's dithering.

Everett isn't doing much better, fidgeting with his zipper, eyes jumping from Reid's eyes to his lips to the doorknob. It's relieving to see him this unsure.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

Everett's eyes lock onto his face. "Can I hug you?"

Technically , that's not an answer. Reid lets it go, opens his arms, and nods.

It only takes a second until Everett is wrapped around him.

Reid's first emotion is relief. Everett smells good.

There's a hint of woodsy fragrance somewhere, maybe an aftershave or his deodorant, but it's not overpowering.

And that's it. No laundry detergent, no fabric softener, nothing.

Reid can breathe deeply, and all he smells is Everett.

Next comes an overwhelming sense of safety. Everett is both taller and broader than him, which he isn't used to. His father is taller than him, but they haven't hugged in years. It's nice to be enveloped so completely. And tightly, too. Everett is downright squeezing him. But Reid doesn't mind.

Then, Everett tucks his face into Reid's neck and sends him shivering when the rush of his breath meets the sensitive skin over Reid's jugular.

It's an infinitesimal movement, but it's enough to spook Everett. He immediately steps back.

"Not good?"

Reid would say no, only Everett now has his hands on his upper arms and is still standing incredibly close. Which is distracting. All he can do is look up at him and shake his head.

And that's another thing that he didn't expect to feel anything about—the height difference.

Reid isn't that much smaller than Everett.

If they stand a few feet apart, it's barely noticeable.

But now that there's maybe one foot between them, he has to crane his neck a little.

Why that makes him feel all quiet, he doesn't know.

"You sure?" Everett asks.

Recognizing that this is going to take verbal communication, Reid gathers what's left of his wits. "Yeah. I'm fine." He deliberates for a moment and then decides that it's only right to be honest after how open Everett has been today. "That felt good."

"Oh." The way Everett is softly looking down at him and smiling should be illegal. It feels dangerous. They're supposed to be saying goodbye right now, but Reid only wants to keep him here for longer. Wants him closer.

Everett's eyes are flitting over Reid's face again, which only makes his breathing go shallower.

They're on the cusp of something. He can feel it.

He feels a lot. Probably too much. He should break this moment and send Everett on his way before he overwhelms himself.

But he physically cannot. He's rooted to the spot, almost trapped in Everett's gaze.

And then Everett, slowly, deliberately, takes a step closer. That kicks everything up a notch. Reid's breathing, his heart rate, his awareness of the heat of another body so close to his. And his need for movement, too. Suddenly, he's vibrating with it.

It only gets worse when Everett moves one of his hands from Reid's biceps to brush a curl behind his ear. That's a fool's errand, so he repeats the action a few times before he gives up with a breathless little laugh. It crinkles up the corners of his eyes and makes Reid's throat constrict.

"Your hair is something else," Everett says. His hand comes to rest at the hinge of Reid's jaw, thumb stroking his cheek. Reid pretty much gives up on breathing right then and there. This is it, right? He's not misreading this?

He watches with wide eyes as Everett's gaze flits over his face, alternating between his eyes, his mouth, and the spot right next to it where his thumb is resting. Reid can feel it press into his skin just a little more, feels his lips part in response.

Only Everett isn't doing anything else. He's just looking at him. His breathing is quickening, and his expression is only growing more intense. But going by his furrowed brows, Reid doesn't think that expression is desire. It looks more like concern. Or maybe fear?

"Is something wrong?" he asks.

It might be a weird question to ask in a situation like this. But when he sees Everett blink and slightly shake his head, he can't really bring himself to care. Oh dear. If something is wrong, then what—

"Can I kiss you?" The words are quiet. But once they've left his mouth, Everett bites his bottom lip. The look on his face is almost pained now, all pinched and tense. Oh. Maybe this is what nervousness looks like on him.

When Reid takes a breath, the shiver running down his spine is audible in it. "Yes."

Reid's face is already tilted up towards Everett, so it doesn't take much.

As soon as his eyes are closed, there are lips on his.

Everything stops. Reid's circling thoughts, the traffic on the street in front of Reid's apartment, the gurgling of the radiator—all of it is suspended in favor of the feeling of warm lips on his.

Rarely does he ever feel so present in body, so calm.

All too soon, Everett breaks away again. He even leans back a bit to look Reid in the eyes. But before Reid can send himself into a panic over this, he asks, "Is that okay?"

Reid frowns. "Yes." Hadn't he said that? Was he not clear enough?

"Yeah?" There's a flush high on Everett's cheeks, and maybe for the first time, it's matched in the color of his lips. Are they usually that red? It's difficult for Reid to remember when he's distracted both by the memory of what they felt like on his and by the gleam in Everett's eyes.

Reid nods. That's all it takes for Everett to move back in. And... oh. This is different. Everett uses the hand cradling Reid's jaw to tilt his head back just a smidge further, pressing in tighter than before. His other hand finds Reid's hip. Not to tug him in, just to hold him.

Now, Reid feels hot all over. He huffs some sort of noise into Everett's mouth.

But he can't even bring himself to be embarrassed because he gets one right back.

The part where he's supposed to be kissing Everett back feels a bit more fraught.

What if Everett doesn't like it? This already feels so good.

He wants Everett to feel good, too. But after a few tries, he thinks he's got it.

All he really has to do is imitate what Everett is doing. Surprisingly, that's quite easy.

At least until Everett opens his mouth a bit further.

That's... it feels good, no question. Reid can tell that Everett can tell that he likes it.

He keeps smiling into the kiss. It's a fascinating feeling.

But it's also intimidating. Because open mouths mean French kissing, right?

That scares him a bit. How is he supposed to manage something like that without verbal instructions?

Can he ask for those? That would probably be even weirder than he usually already is.

Everett brings a stop to those thoughts with a gentle nip on his bottom lip. It sends a jolt through Reid's entire body, so strong that Everett must be able to feel it.

"You alright?" he asks. His voice is deeper than usual, and just a little hoarse. The sound of it sends a tingle down Reid's spine.

"M-hmm." He nods. "You just surprised me."

A relieved smile bursts onto Everett's face. "Oh, thank God. I really didn't wanna go too far or anything."

"You didn't." Even as he says it, Reid can feel it's true. Really, he just wants to get back to the kissing. And if that isn't something. He could have sworn he was tired just a short while ago. He definitely doesn't feel tired right now.

"Good. But you felt a bit lost in thought. Everything alright there?"

Oh, so this is an actual conversation, not just a brief check in. Interesting. Convenient, too, because this way he doesn't have to stop anything to bring it up.

"I don't know how to French kiss," Reid says.

He does his best to keep looking at Everett after that.

But he can't look him in the eyes. This time, it isn't even his fault.

Everett is biting his bottom lip to contain a grin.

That, paired with the fondness crinkling in the corner of his eyes, makes it pretty much impossible for Reid to focus on anything besides the desire for those teeth to dig into his own lip.

"Alright," Everett says once he's gotten over his initial amusement. "How about we worry about that some other time? I'm supposed to be on my way out, anyway. You're tired. I just couldn't..."

"I'm not tired anymore."

It's just four little words—or five, maybe? But their effect is quite amazing. Reid can see Everett's pupils blow wide, can feel Everett's hand tighten its grip on his sweater.

Much to Reid's dismay, Everett doesn't sweep back in to kiss him again. Instead, he takes a deep breath to get himself under control. "Right. But we don't need to speedrun this. We have time."

Somehow, Reid doesn't think that Everett would say this with another partner.

It makes him bristle a bit. But he realizes that it's probably for the best. He's feeling so much right now.

He probably wouldn't notice he was overwhelmed until it was already too late.

So it's a very sensible proposition. Still doesn't mean he has to love it.

"Absolutely," Reid says. His lip wanders between his teeth without a conscious effort. The way Everett's eyes follow it sets off a small spark of triumph in Reid. "But kiss me again?"

He's not sure if it's bold or needy to just ask for it like this. But if he doesn't ask, he might not get it. And he wants it.

When Everett presses back in, his lips are stretched thin around a smile.

But that doesn't make it feel any less spectacular.

Because this time, it doesn't feel like he's holding back.

There's a joy in his unrestrained movements, in the way he clutches Reid close and still presses closer.

It feels like the most natural thing in the world to wrap his arms around Everett's neck and lift himself up onto his tiptoes to get closer.

The transition from kiss to hug is surprisingly seamless. Everett clings to him like someone might rip him away any minute. Like Reid might decide he just doesn't want him close anymore.

"When can I see you again?" Everett mumbles into his neck.

Reid suppresses a shudder, just in case that'll make him retreat again. "I need tomorrow for groceries and family. But Sunday, maybe?"

So they agree to meet up again on Sunday afternoon.

Everett says he feels guilty that he won't be taking him out to a restaurant or something similar, but thankfully, it doesn't take too long for Reid to reassure him that would be hell on his nerves.

He'd rather be focusing on Everett than on other people's conversations and screaming children all around him.

Before Everett walks out the door, he ducks back in for one last kiss.

It's just a small peck, nothing intense.

But it brings Reid right back to the way he was feeling earlier, making him cling to the open door.

He has to shake himself before he can get out a voiceless goodbye.

Of course, this means Everett leaves with a bright grin on his face.