[X]

Abel shifts nervously on the hard park bench beneath him. Kevin had called earlier the same morning, saying, "We need to talk." Abel knows that those words almost always spell disaster for a relationship, but he is unsure of what he's done wrong. He hopes that he'll have a chance to explain himself.

Kevin, on the other hand, has had a supernaturally horrible morning. He slipped and fell in the shower that morning, and gave himself a bloody nose. He stubbed his toe on his way to the kitchen, was scolded for leaving one-- one-- sock on his floor, and burnt his toast beyond recognition. Needless to say, he's not in a good mood on his way to the park. The mist in the air has made his hair curly to the point of ridiculousness, which only annoys him further.

He sees Abel sitting on the bench, his knees peeking through the holes in his jeans, and he tries to relax. He needs to give Abel a fair chance to talk this out, regardless of his bad mood. He takes a breath, preparing himself to lose everything, and approaches the bench.

Abel gets up as soon as he sees Kevin approaching. "Hey, babe." He goes in for a kiss, and Kevin turns his head so that it hits his cheek. Abel shivers from the cold.

"We need to talk," Kevin mumbles. He's dreading the conversation already, but he knows that it needs to be done.

Abel gulps audibly. "O-okay." He wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans as he sits down, picking at a hole on his thigh. "What about?"

Kevin sits a few inches away from Abel, making sure not to touch him. Abel aches to touch his boyfriend, but keeps his hands in his lap. "Damon told me about your high school life," Kevin says, watching Abel's face for reactions.

"Okay." Abel nods. His jaw tenses, but his face remains neutral otherwise. "What did he say?"

Kevin bites his lip, toying with his fingers. "He told me about an incident involving a janitor's closet. And what you did to him." He clears his throat anxiously, trying not to let his voice break.

Abel's eyes darken. He turns to Kevin, looking angry and desperate. "No. Let me explain, please, it isn't the way he says."

"How is it, then?" Kevin looks away from Abel to keep his resolve, because he doesn't want to cave in. Seeing Abel in distress is making it difficult.

Abel swallows, shifting in his seat, leaning forward to try and see Kevin's eyes. "Blue, please. Look at me; I didn't... Force myself upon him. That part was a lie. It's what he told everyone, but that isn't what happened. It was consensual--"

"That's what he said you'd say." Kevin frowns, trying not to cry. He doesn't want to believe Damon, but he can't imagine that he'd lie about something like that.

Abel fists his hands tightly at his sides. "And he was damn right, too, because that's what happened." He tries not to sound angry, tries not to raise his voice, but fails.

Kevin takes a deep breath. "I want to believe you." He looks up at Abel through tear-blurred eyes. "I do, but why would Damon lie about this?"

Abel shakes his head, voice unsure, pleading. "I don't know, to cover his ass. Don't do this. Let me explain. We did go to the closet, we did do some things, but he wasn't-- I didn't-- He liked it--"

"So that makes it okay?" Kevin barks. "You think he liked it, so it's okay?"

Abel's eyes widen. "No, no, that's not what I meant. I worded it wrong, Blue, please--"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Kevin's voice quavers, quiet, small tears free falling from his eyes. "I wouldn't be so upset if you'd just told me, but... Why?"

"Blue, don't cry, please," Abel murmurs, wrapping his arms around Kevin. A couple walks past, holding hands, looking concerned for Kevin's well-being. Abel frowns at them.

Kevin yanks away from the comforting touch like Abel's hands are scalding hot. "Don't touch me. Answer the question. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it isn't true! Do you really think I'd lie to you about this?"

Kevin pauses, a frosty, quiet pause. "I'd like to think you'd tell me the truth, but I don't think Damon would lie to me about something that big ever. He was my best friend for years."

Abel scoffs, throwing his hands up in the air. "You actually don't believe me. I'm your boyfriend. Don't I get some credit for that? At least a little bit?"

Kevin shakes his head, looking at the grey grass. "I think we should take a break. Just a short one, until I can figure things out. Until we can figure this out." He doesn't like the words, doesn't quite understand why he's saying them, but he thinks it needs to happen.

Abel gapes. "Nononono, Blue. Please. No. Let's talk about this some more. We need--"

"We need some space, Abel." Kevin looks up at the other boy for the first time in a while. His eyes look the same color as the sky-- a dark, stormy grey. "I'm sorry."

Kevin walks away from the bench, from the park, from his boyfriend, from his light. He tugs his jacket tighter around him when the mist thickens into rain, letting the raindrops drip from his nose, and pretends that there aren't any tears mixed in. He feels like an abandoned puppy: small, lost, alone. He stares at his feet.

The pattering of rain disguises his sobs as hiccups, and when he gets home, he doesn't bother changing out of his wet clothes. Instead, he heads straight upstairs into his room, shuts the door, and collapses onto his bed. He doesn't move for the rest of the evening, letting his sorrow out into the darkness.

Abel sits on the bench and watches his lover's back disappear into the mist. He feels himself splitting apart, crumbling because Kevin doesn't want to hold him together anymore. He curses himself for not wording his explanation correctly, curses Damon for telling an altered version of a true story, curses Kevin for not listening to him. Mostly, Abel curses himself for making Kevin's eyes turn grey, for making Kevin cry.

When it starts to rain, he remains on the bench. The water soaks him through, makes his clothes squelch when he moves, chilling him to the bone.

Still, he sits in the park. A tear slides down his cheek, and he doesn't have time to be all that surprised about it before he's full on bawling in the rain. The harder he tries to stop, the more uncontrollable his emotions become. A woman passing by with a stroller asks if he's okay, and all he can manage to do is wave her away. He wipes his red eyes, red cheeks, as clear as he can, and stumbles to the car.

On the soggy ride home, he tells himself that he deserves the cold, the wet, the dark feeling in his chest. He's hurt his Blue, intentionally or not, and he doesn't think he can forgive himself.

He drags himself up the stairs to his dorm, walks past a startled looking Cal and the flustered Seymour in his lap without a passing glance. Cal asks what's wrong. Abel lets out another soft sob and continues to their room.

When Cal enters the room, Abel is standing on his half, dripping water onto the carpet. For the first time in a while, Cal crosses the masking tape border on the floor and pulls the shorter boy into a hug.

Abel doesn't reciprocate it, doesn't pull away, just cries into Cal's chest. It's been such a shitty day.

It isn't even two o'clock yet.