"Look, Red, I don't want you to tell me anything if you don't want to. You don't have to feel like this is an obligation, okay—"

Red interrupted, "this is an obligation, I've got these feelings for you. Feelings I've never felt before, even when I was with her. And I don't know what to do with these feelings, and if I tell you the whole story, I wouldn't even know where to start—"

Beverly kisses a kiss on the corner of Red's mouth, the twenty-seven year old halting his rambling at the gesture.

"It's okay," Beverly whispered, "just start from the beginning."

Red sits up, fumbling with his thumbs, as he searches for the words to say, searches his erratic brain for one word to kick off the conversation.

He knows Beverly wouldn't mind if he'd accidentally cursed while speaking. But right now—he felt as though every word he could conjure would make the boy blush and quiver.

"When I was eighteen, I was in a really shit relationship," he watched Beverly's reaction, the younger boy's eyes searching for more. "I also had really shit friends."

He paused again, looking over at Beverly for validation, who smiled brightly, his fingers lightly tracing lines on Red's stumble-filled jaw. "One day, one of my friends, A.J., came up to me and said that some kid named Rory, wrote something super disrespectful on the side of his dad's truck.

"So, he came up with some plan to shoot up his place, when we knew he wouldn't be there. So, that no actual harm would be done, but the guy would get a little scared. And while us still not getting caught.

"A.J. was so sure that the guy would be at church with his family that Sunday, so, we loaded his truck with a shitload of our friends, and A.J. shot the gun.

"But I'm sure everyone pretty much crapped their pants when we heard multiple screams come from inside the house. Some dude came out, tried to chase us down, but failed.

"We thought we got away with it, we went on with our lives. Went to school, partied, drank, hung out—until shit totally went to hell.

"One morning, I wake up to my mom screaming at someone, begging them not to take her baby, but next thing I know, I'm in handcuffs, and getting hurled into the backseat of some cop car.

"Once they started questioning me, just asking me confess what'd I'd done, I was almost shitting my pants. Because of course, the only face that guy had recognized was mine.

"And apparently, the only way he'd recognized my face was as the—quote on quote—shithead who had been dating his daughter. And Beverly, I'm telling you, I thought my life was over.

"I was pretty surprised when I found out that their entire family had been inside of the house when A.J. shot at it, and he'd shot the kid in the process.

"My mom begged me to tell them who shot the gun, and my lawyer was telling me the same thing—but I just couldn't. A.J. and I had been friends since we were fucking three years old. And they expected me to just turn on him like that.

"So, I kept my mouth shut until eventually, another one of our friends ended up saying it was him.

"I ended up in the fucking slammer for nine years, but A.J. got sent away for life. One stupid, stupid night fucked up the rest of our lives and every time I think about it, I want to punch a hole in the wall."

Beverly was sure that Beverly was done speaking, when he took Red into his arms, his small forearms enveloping Red into his chest.

Red shook his head, pushing Beverly away. "No. I cannot get into this with you, I just told you what happened the last time I was in a relationship, and I cannot have that happen with you. I can't go through something like that again—I can't hurt another person because of my mistakes—"

"You wouldn't hurt me, Matthew, I know it—"

"I already fucking have, Bev! Don't make excuses for people like me. It gets you nowhere, alright?" Beverly shook his head, this time, grabbing at Red's face, placing his hands on both sides of it.

"That is bullshit. You have been nothing but kind to me, since you took me in. Into your home, allowed me eat your food. You gave me work, gave me shelter, gave me . . ." When Beverly pauses, Red's fingers clenched into the comforter.

"Gave you what?"

"You gave me love, Matthew. Even if you hadn't realized it, yet, even if you hadn't even thought about it—you gave me love. More than my parents have ever even been given the chance to give me. So, you sitting here, telling me not to make excuses for people like you is bullshit, because you are not that person anymore.

"You are a person who shows random strangers love. And you're the kind who people feel safe enough to show it back to."

"What the fuck are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you are a man who has made it nearly impossible not to fall for. And you've got me, Matthew. You've got me." When Beverly is finished, Red has tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes for the first time in years open, and actually feeling.

"I've got you?"

"Yeah, you've got me." Beverly leans in, his lips landing directly on Red's, who immediately reciprocates the emotional kiss, with full lips, and a heart full of pain.

But Red can't help whispering just one more time. "I've got you."