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Andrew Michael Cartwright was 17 the first time he kissed his best friend.
He had managed to swipe a six-pack this evening without his mum noticing. Not that it was a particularly impressive feat these days, but still. Not that it was really necessary. He knew he could have gone to the pub easily enough, Roy and Mary were almost always willing to overlook an ID with a birthdate a little below what it should have been, but that came with the expectation of behaving well enough not to draw attention. Which shouldn’t have been a problem. Andy had always been good at that and he doubted going to the pub would have been an issue tonight. The pub probably would have been fun, honestly. It would have been bright and loud and full of his friends.
Which was exactly why Andy was drinking alone in a farm field instead.
It wasn't that he didn't want to see his friends. Things had just been... complicated recently. Complicated enough that spending the evening by himself seemed like the best bet. He leaned back against the fence post behind him, taking a drink from the open can in his hand and staring out at the village below. It was a nice view from up here. The warm glow of the village spread out below, spilling both light and faint noise as people enjoyed their Friday evening. People would be walking in the streets, laughing and joking and gathering around the pub. Up here, though, it was still quiet and dark. Just a light breeze, the occasional cow, and Andy alone with his thoughts.
"What in the
fuck
are you doing up here, mate?"
Andy startled as a figure jumped over the fence and dropped down onto the grass beside him. He didn't bother looking over to see who it was though. He didn't need to. "What do you mean, what am I doing up here?" He gestured vaguely with the beer can he was holding. "Drinking, obviously."
"Yeah, but we usually do that in the
pub
. Not a cow pasture." An arm reached across him, grabbing a beer without even bothering to ask. "So the question still stands. What the fuck are you doing up here?"
Andy supposed he should have expected this. Andrew Cartwright and Andrew Wainwright were two names that were rarely uttered one without the other. Wainwright and Cartwright, Andrew and Andrew, the Andes. Almost never separated, except by the occasional particularly tough teacher who'd had enough of their shit. So Andy supposed if anyone was going to find him up here, it would be the other Andy.
He shrugged. "Just felt like a bit of alone time, that's all."
"Oh?" His friend wagged his eyebrows suggestively and Andy hit his arm, earning a loud laugh. "Hey no judgment, mate, but you gotta admit a cow field's a bit of a weird place."
Andy grinned. "Fuck off. Wanker."
"No no no, I thought we just established that's what
you're
doing. I'm just checking in to try and figure out why the fuck my best friend ditched me at the pub."
"Mm." Andy hummed, bringing the can up to his lips and taking a drink. "Bloody mystery, ain't it?"
The silence in the field was comfortable as both boys drank quietly, staring down at the village below. Silence was always like this with Andy- comfortable and familiar, saying everything they needed to say without ever saying a word. Andy supposed that was probably just a natural side effect of knowing each other for so long. Fourteen years was a long time, even if he didn't remember the first year or two of it because who the fuck remembered being three years old? It was certainly long enough that Andy had long since stopped needing spoken words to understand whatever his best friend was trying to say, especially when what he was trying to say was nothing in particular.
"So what's been up with you lately?"
Andy frowned as the question broke the silence. "What do you mean?"
"I mean you've been fuckin' weird lately. Like, skipping out on the pub, clearly hiding some sort of shit weird." Andrew's tone was casual, but Andy knew he meant his question. "So what's been up?"
Andy looked down, trying not to grimace. Fourteen years of knowing each other, he supposed this shouldn't be a surprise either. It was why he'd been up here in the first place, rather than down at the pub with the rest of them because while none of his other friends were likely to pick up on anything, Andy would. "It's nothing, mate."
"Is it your mum? She get on a bender again?"
"No, it's not that." He shrugged. "It's nothing. Really."
"Come on, Ands. You're a terrible fuckin' liar and we both know it."
Ands. No one else called him that. Just Andy. He kept his eyes fixed on the can in his hand, chest tightening slightly as he tried to think of how the fuck he could talk about what was bothering him. Because something was bothering him. Had been for a while. A couple years, really, but he'd done a good enough job shoving it down that he'd been able to mostly ignore it. Because everyone's gaze wandered sometimes, during sports or in the locker room, right? It was just natural curiosity to want to see how the other guys looked, the stupid but perfectly normal teenage urge to see if he measured up to them. And it wasn't like there were girls to look at in there. And even when he was around girls it wasn't really that odd that he didn't find them that interesting to watch. He had lots of other things to think about, even if he did find himself watching the other guys instead. That didn’t really mean anything. And no one could really control what their mind wandered to when they were rubbing one out, not really. It didn't really matter if you ended up thinking about a bloke, not as long as you didn't keep thinking about it afterwards.
Except he
didn't
stop thinking about it afterwards. Not anymore. And that was starting to be a fucking problem.
"Hello? Earth to Andrew?" Andy blinked and looked over to find his friend watching him with an amused expression. "You're not already pissed from one beer, are you?"
"Fuck off." Andy tried to laugh in response but it wasn't a convincing sound, falling flat in the air as silence settled back in around them. He hesitated, staring down at his hands and chewing on his lip. He told Andy everything and if it had been anything else, he wouldn't have even hesitated. This was different though. This wasn’t the sort of thing you told people. "You ever feel like…like something's wrong with you?"
"What do you mean?"
Andy kept his gaze down as the amusement disappeared from his friend's voice, shrugging. "I dunno, like…like some shit got crossed in your brain and now there's just…something fucked with your head."
"What are you saying? That you're, like, some fucked up axe murderer or something?" The joking quality was back but there was a forced edge to it. "Which would be wicked, by the way. Nothing ever happens here, I could definitely use some-"
"I think I'm maybe a fag."
Andy shut his eyes as soon as the sentence left his mouth. He hadn't meant to say it, not really, but it had just…come out. And there was no taking it back, no matter how much he wanted to. No explaining it away either. The statement hung in the air for a moment as both boys tried to process it.
"But…you kissed Betty Lanse at the formal last month. Fuckin' made out with her."
"Yeah, 'cause she kissed
me
and that's…that's what I'm supposed to do, isn't it? Make out with girls and get around because otherwise rumors start." Andy frowned. "I didn't like it though. Didn't…feel anything. And you're supposed to feel something, right? Like, everyone always talks about it, how you're going to
feel
something, and I
didn't,
not that time or the time before or the time that Leslie Taylor-"
"Have you ever kissed a guy?"
The question brought Andy's thoughts to a screeching halt and he looked over sharply. "What?"
"I mean," Andy shrugged, "you can't know you're
not
feeling something when you kiss a girl unless you kiss a guy and
do
feel something. Otherwise maybe you
are
feeling something and you’re just too thick to pick up on it."
Andy stared at him, trying to parse through the bizarre logic. "Mate, are you…are you saying I should kiss a guy? Just to try it?"
Of the two of them, the Wainwright half of the Andes had always been the slightly louder, slightly bolder one, but now he wouldn't quite meet Andy's eyes, looking just slightly off as he gave another small shrug. "I'm just saying you can't really know until you have."
"Huh." Andy sat back, staring down at the village again, unsure what to say. He'd nearly worried himself sick over what would happen if anyone found out he was maybe a fag, and this…wasn't the reaction he'd expected. "I guess you're not…wrong."
"Of course I'm not wrong. All of my ideas are great and you should listen to every single one of them."
Andy couldn't help but grin at the huffiness in his friend's voice, but his grin faded as he actually thought through the suggestion more fully. He supposed it made sense, in the weird way that Andy’s ideas usually made sense despite otherwise being terrible, but that didn't mean it didn't come with some drawbacks. "Who the fuck am I supposed to kiss though? I mean, it's not like I can just fuckin' walk up to some guy at the pub."
"I mean, you could…you could kiss me. If you really wanted to, I guess."
Andy looked back over, slower this time. It was too dark to make out much of his friend’s expression but he still wasn't looking at him, at least not fully. Andy could feel his own heart pick up though, an odd nervousness settling in his stomach. "You serious, mate?"
Each shrug seemed smaller than the last. "Yeah. I mean, I won't tell anyone, and you'll get to figure out if you're actually a fag or if you're just an idiot. But, like, you don't have to. I'm not gonna fuckin' make it weird or anything."
“Yeah. Not weird or anything.” Andy nodded like everything they were saying was completely normal. Like the tightness in his chest wasn’t getting even stronger at the simple thought of maybe kissing Andy. Like the thought kissing Andy hadn’t been exactly one of the things making it increasingly difficult to ignore all of this recently. Andy refused to call it a crush- he wasn’t in fuckin’ primary school anymore for Christ’s sake- but it was definitely…something that had been on his mind recently. “You’d…be okay with it though?”
“You think I would have offered if I wasn’t?”
Andy supposed that was fair enough. He paused for a moment, looking down at his beer and taking a deep breath before finally looking back over with what he hoped was a confident and casual nod. “Alright.” He paused. “How do you…want to do this?”
Andy sighed. “Fuckin’ a, Ands, it’s just a kiss. You don’t need a bloody battle plan or some shit.”
Andy nodded again, shifting so that they were facing each other.
Just a kiss
was maybe a bit of an understatement, but pointing that out was just going to make it weird. He set his beer down on the grass beside him, trying to figure out where exactly he should look as his friend did the same. He moved closer after a moment, staring at Andy’s chest rather than his face. That felt easier right now.
He knew he had to look up eventually though. It was too dark to really read Andy’s expression when he did, but even in the darkness he almost looked…shy. Andy scooted slightly closer again until they were finally close enough that he’d be able to close the remaining space between them easily enough. He searched Andy’s face for another moment, looking for any sign that his friend had changed his mind or that this was some sort of joke that Andy would use against him or spread around to their other friends; he didn’t think Andy would do that to him, but he supposed he couldn’t really be too careful. Not with something like this.
There wasn’t anything like that in his face though, at least not that Andy could see in the dark. After another moment of hesitation he finally leaned in, closing the last bit of space between them.
It was a hesitant kiss, both of them obviously unsure how exactly they were supposed to handle it. Andy could taste beer on his friend's lips just faintly and it was…kind of nice. It was all kind of nice, actually. A bit awkward, but nice. Enough that Andy didn't immediately pull back, letting himself linger just a moment because he…didn't want to pull back. He even started to bring one of his hands up, the desire to touch Andy- actually touch him, have a hand against his face or his arm or his chest or
something-
hitting him, but he stopped himself. That would be too much. Even with whatever weird experiment this was, that would be too much.
It couldn't have been more than a few seconds before they pulled back from each other, but to Andy's mind it might as well have been an hour. He blinked, trying to process what had just happened and breathe through the odd feeling in his chest. Not the tightness from before, but something just slightly…different. Not bad though. Definitely not bad.
"Well?"
The question was quiet but it was enough to draw Andy out of his thoughts. He hadn't realized how close he and Andy still were, but there were barely more than a few inches between their faces. "I…I don't know." That wasn't really true. He certainly hadn't quite processed all of it yet, but Andy knew that had been different than other kisses he'd had. "I guess I'd have to think about it a bit."
His friend nodded, pulling back slightly more. "Well, at least you have something to think about now and try and figure it out."
Andy nodded in return, trying very hard not to think about any of it at all. Not about the fact that Andy had let him kiss him, or that he'd liked it, or that he maybe wouldn't mind kissing him again. He could overthink all of that later. For now, he just settled back against the fence, staring back out over the village and taking a drink. He'd figured Andy would move back to put more space between them again, but he stayed where he was too. They weren't quite close enough to be touching, but close enough that their elbows brushed when one of them took a drink.
Andy stared out over the lights below. “So you study for the test on Monday at all yet?”
His friend snorted. "Fuck no. Not planning on it either."
Andy grinned, letting himself settle back into the silence that filled in around them again. It felt a little different now, but still comfortable. It always was with Andy.
Andy was 20 the first time he fought with his best friend.
Really
fought.
They'd had disagreements before, but never anything major. Small spats over unimportant bullshit followed by a couple days of not talking to each other. It had happened when they were just friends and it had happened since they'd become…whatever the hell they were now. Not quite dating but certainly not just friends. Because Andy knew he wasn't the brightest apple in the bunch, but he was fairly sure that friends didn't drunkenly fuck each other on the regular. So he didn't really know what they were by this point, but it definitely wasn't
just friends.
And that, it turned out, was precisely the problem.
The fight had been brewing the entire way back to Andy’s place. His place was closer to the flat they'd been at so they’d planned for Andy to just spend the night, and neither of them had said anything to challenge that as they’d headed out. The silence between them as they’d walked had been tense though and Andy had known it was building to something unpleasant as they’d both pretended it wasn’t there at all.
Andy let the door close behind him as they got to his place, not even bothering to lock it. It felt like something annoying that he didn't exactly feel like doing right now and besides, it was Sanford. It wasn't like anyone was going to break in. "You doing anything the rest of the evening?"
He didn't actually see Andy shrug, but he could almost hear the movement in his voice. "Didn't have anything in particular in mind. You?"
Andy shrugged off his jacket and hung it up, alcohol making his movements just this side of clumsy. "No, I'll probably just turn in."
"Well, it was a fun evening at least."
"Yeah." Andy's tone was short. "Real fun."
"Christ." Andy could hear the frustration in his friend's voice even before he rounded the corner into the kitchen. "What's got you all pissy? You've been a fuckin' joy all night."
Andy shrugged, distinctly not looking over. "Nothing. It's fine."
"Well clearly not since you're being such a bitch."
Andy gave another shrug, trying to ignore the anger that had been simmering in his chest all evening and pretending he really didn't care. "It's nothing. You were clearly having a good time tonight, that's all."
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"You and Sarah." Andy tried to keep his voice even but a hint of sharpness crept in despite his efforts. "You guys really seemed to be enjoying each other."
There was a moment of silence before Andy finally responded, his voice a mix of incredulity and frustration. "Wait,
that's
what this is about? Sarah?"
"I told you, it's not about anything." Andy knew the assurance wasn't convincing, but he figured he might as well try. "Just an observation."
"Is that seriously what this is about? Fucking
Sarah?
"
Andy tried not to cringe. He knew Andy hadn't meant it quite like that, but the more literal interpretation had already been on his mind for most of the evening. Fucking Sarah- that had certainly seemed like where things had been heading. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to shove down his annoyance. There was no point getting into this now. Or in general, really. "Listen, just…just forget it, alright? It's nothing."
None of this should have been a big deal. It shouldn't have been a problem at all, really. They’d been at a party, an hour or two and more than a few drinks in, when it had started. It was the sort of thing they did on most weekends and there was never an issue. Except Sarah Johnson had been there and everyone knew she had a thing for the Wainwright half of the Andes, she had ever since secondary school, and she’d made a beeline for him as soon as she’d walked in the door. Andy had watched from the side of the room as she’d wrapped an arm around Andy’s waist, hanging off him as she laughed at anything and everything he said. And he’d watched as Andy had wrapped his arm around her in return.
It should have been fine. And it wasn’t like it was surprising. If there was any time Sarah was going to make a move, this would be it. They were at a party, everyone was a little drunk- it was the time to flirt with people. And when someone flirted so obviously with someone who wasn't seeing anyone, wasn't taken or in a relationship, it was expected that person would probably flirt back. It should have been fine, it
was
fine. Because as far as anyone else in Sanford knew, that had been exactly what was happening. And the more Andy thought about it, the less he was sure he knew any better either.
"Why are you even fuckin' bothered about it? You were fucked off all the way on the other side of the room."
"Yeah, cause you were clearly busy."
The reply came out harsher than he'd intended and Andy frowned at him. “Seriously, mate, what the fuck is your problem?”
“I don’t have a
problem.
I’m just pointing out that you were clearly busy, considering you had Sarah fuckin’ hanging off of you the entire time. And you seemed like you were having a good time with it.”
"Jesus Christ, Andy, it was bit of flirting at a fucking party. What the fuck do you want me to do?"
Andy gestured widely, trying to find the words to express whatever the fuck he was currently feeling. "I don't…I don't fucking know! Just…not that!"
Andy frowned, crossing his arms. “What, I can’t fuckin’ flirt with people? Why? It’s not like I’m seeing anyone or anything and-”
“Then what the fuck am I?” He hadn’t meant to yell the question, but it came out loud anyway. “What the fuck are we?! Cause we’re not friends. I mean, we
are
but we’re not
just
friends and I’m fucking tired of having to pretend like we are. I hate having to watch you flirt with girls like you don’t end up fucking me at one of our apartments most weekends.”
Andy seemed to shrink back, looking away. “I don’t…people can’t know about that, Ands. You know that.”
“Don’t fucking call me
Ands
right now.” Andy could feel anger and hurt that he’d been doing his best to ignore for far longer than he should have finally pushing through. “You think I don’t know that other people can’t know? You think that doesn’t weigh on me every fucking time I see you the morning after and have to pretend like nothing happened? I’m fucking aware of that! But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to fucking mean something to someone! And I just…I’m tired of just feeling like a cheap fuck that you turn to just because you’re…you’re fuckin’ bored or something!”
“I don’t…you’re not…that’s not what I’m doing.” Andy still wasn’t looking at him but the defensiveness in his posture was impossible to miss. “You
do
mean something to me. I just…you deserve better than…" He gestured vaguely. "Than this."
"Than what? I'm tired of fucking vagueness, tell me what you fucking mean."
"Than feeling like some sort of…dirty secret or whatever!"
"You don't fucking get it, do you?" Andy's laugh was harsh. "That's all I'll ever be. Maybe you can find a chick one day and settle down and have a happy fucking marriage but I can't. I don't get to have that. I only get to be someone's dirty secret." His vision was starting to blur slightly and he tried to blink the tears away, hating that they were there in the first place. He was
mad
, dammit, he didn't want to fucking cry. It felt stupid,
he
felt stupid, but he couldn't make the tears go away. He wiped at his eyes, turning to try and make it less obvious what was happening. "I just…never mind. Forget it, it’s stupid.”
There was a beat of silence before Andy spoke again. “Andy, look at me.” Andy heard him take a few hesitant steps across, and a moment later he felt Andy’s fingers against his face. “Ands. Look at me.”
He didn’t want to. He’d managed to wipe away the tears that had spilled over but he knew that hadn’t done much to hide the fact he was crying, and he didn’t want to have to face Andy like that. Alcohol was making his emotions harder to push down and he knew he wasn’t far from being pushed back over the edge again, and he didn’t want Andy to be looking at him when that happened. He didn’t want
anyone
to be looking at him when that happened. Andy gently pushed at his chin though, moving his head until they were fully facing each other again. Andy kept his eyes downcast though, not wanting to take the last step of actually making eye contact. At fully looking at him.
“Come on, Ands, look at me.” There was no anger left in his friend’s expression when he finally looked up, just a hesitant softness that almost looked like an apology, which was maybe actually worse than if he had found anger there. “It’s not stupid. Finish what you were saying.”
“I just…” Andy looked back down, trying to find the words. He knew what he wanted to say, what he’d been wanting to say for a while now, but the thought of actually saying it out loud was…frightening. “I…I know I can only ever be someone’s dirty secret. But I just…I want to be
yours.
And I don’t…I get if you don’t want that, I do. But it just…it fuckin’ hurts. Seeing you with other people.”
There was another beat of silence and Andy wondered if he’d made a mistake. It was one thing to have…whatever they’d had for a while now. But saying it outloud, saying he wanted
more,
was different. Too much, maybe. Alcohol and strong emotions combining into a mistake that he couldn’t really take back, not fully, but he could at least back away from. He took a breath- he supposed he could try to think of an actual apology, but it was easier to just stumble through it blind like he had the rest of the conversation.
“Are you sure?”
Andy’s voice was quiet but it still startled Andy. “What?”
“Are you sure you want this?” Andy’s voice was unsure, and he seemed to be searching Andy’s face for something. “I don’t…I can’t give you a normal relationship. And you deserve better than that. I get…I get that you don’t have that option. And that fuckin’ sucks because you
should
have it. You should get to be happy.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “You don’t have to be my dirty secret. Cause it’s not dirty, fuck that. But we could…we could be each other’s secret. If you’re really sure.”
Andy stared at him, trying to process what his friend was saying. “You’d…be okay with that?”
The quiet laugh he got in response was more fond than exasperated. “Fuckin’ a, Ands, of course I’d be okay with it. Can’t believe you actually have to fuckin’ ask me that.”
“But you could have a…a normal life. A normal relationship.” Andy frowned. “You can’t have that with me.”
“Eh, that shit’s overrated if you ask me. Not really worth it.” Andy raised an eyebrow. “And certainly not with Sarah fuckin’ Johnson of all people.”
Andy chuckled- whether from humour or relief, he wasn’t sure. “I guess not.” He sighed, finally letting himself lean into the hand still resting gently against his face. “Sorry for being a prick earlier.”
“I think we were both being one.” After a moment Andy sighed. “We should…we should talk about this more in the morning, but I think this is a good place to call it a night, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Andy seemed to hesitate a moment before pressing a kiss against his temple. They’d kissed plenty of times before, but usually when they were both wasted and well on their way to ending up in one of their beds. This was different. Softer. Maybe even hopeful.
Andy hummed quietly, letting himself lean into his friend even more. He felt drained now that the argument had died down, and the feeling of Andy bringing an arm up to wrap around his waist- somewhat uncertainly, but still there- seemed to make that drained feeling even more prominent. “I’m fuckin’ exhausted. Think I’m going to turn in.”
“Mm, me too.”
They stayed where they were for a moment before finally pulling back apart, neither one quite looking at the other. They didn’t quite look at each other as they headed to Andy’s bedroom either, or as Andy felt his friend’s hand slip into his, the movement just as hesitant as the kiss a moment earlier. Still just as nice though too.
Andy had been right, they’d need to talk about this more in the morning. Neither one of them had every really done relationships before, and this one was going to take extra thought to figure out. Not just to make sure no one found out, though certainly that too. It was more than that- Andy was his best friend before anything else, and he didn’t want to accidentally fuck that up. They’d need to talk and figure things out and actually fucking say what they meant for once or else they probably would fuck this up.
That could wait until tomorrow though. Tonight, Andy could just be happy that he was someone’s secret.
Andy was 24 the first time he told his best friend he loved him.
He was absolutely exhausted. The new flat was bigger and at least a little nicer than where they’d been living the past couple of years but it was, unfortunately, also on the second floor. That wasn’t a bad thing per se- it was at least a slightly nicer view and it meant no upstairs neighbors stomping on the floor at six in the fucking morning- but it did mean having to carry their furniture up a flight of stairs. And while Andy always managed to pass his physical for the police force, that didn’t mean he actually liked physical activity.
He dropped down onto the couch with a groan. They’d managed to get everything up into the flat, but it had taken all day and Andy’s shirt was stained with sweat. “We aren’t allowed to ever move anywhere else because I am
not
carrying this shit back downstairs.”
Andy laughed, dropping down next to him. “Agreed. We’ll just live here forever. Too much of a fuckin’ pain to move again.”
Tired but comfortable silence filled the room and Andy fully took in the space around them for the first time. He’d seen the flat empty when they’d come to look at it before deciding to rent it and he’d obviously seen the various parts of it while carrying up a seemingly unending number of boxes today. He knew what the layout was and what all the rooms looked like. He had for months.
It was different like this now. The space was a mess, honestly- full of packing materials and precariously piled boxes, things set down wherever there was space regardless of whether or not it actually made sense for it to be there. Andy supposed it would get a little better over the next few days, but he wasn’t an idiot. Neither he nor Andy had ever been particularly tidy men, and it would be months before even half this shit was unpacked. And even that might be overly optimistic.
It was their space though. Just for them.
“Danny was bugging to come over and see the place once we were moved in, so I’m sure he’ll keep up with that now that we’ve actually moved.”
Andy gestured at the towers of boxes around them. “Don’t think this really qualifies as
moved in
.”
His partner laughed. “Like he’d care, or even notice.” He looked over at Andy with an amused expression. “You know he was saying he’s going to move out soon?”
Andy snorted. “Yeah, like Frank’s gonna let that happen any time soon.”
Everyone had rolled their eyes slightly when Danny had gotten hired at the station, but no one had really been surprised. Frank had kept a tight leash on Danny ever since his wife had died, and Danny working on the force was just the next natural step of that. It didn’t really matter either. Danny was a bit of a doofus, but it was Sanford- nothing ever happened here, so being a bit of a doofus didn’t do anyone any harm. “That probably just means he’ll be bugging us to spend time here instead.”
“Well, we’ll at least get some good movies out of it, I guess.” Andy shrugged. “Turner actually wished us luck moving in too.”
“Day shift or night shift?”
“Night shift, obviously.”
His partner hummed and they fell back into comfortable silence. Things had been good recently. Calm. With their training apprenticeship up at the station, they were both finally starting to settle into actual permanent positions. Partners, of course. They were the Andes after all, never Wainwright without Cartwright or vice versa. It was regular, monotonous work that paid well enough to cover rent and nights at the pub, and with enough extra to save up for a new place after a while. It was, all in all, not a bad routine to be settling into.
He considered the space for another moment, considering whether he wanted to ask the question that had been sitting in the back of his mind ever since they’d signed the lease. Might as well, he supposed- he knew they were both thinking it anyway. “You think people’ll talk?”
“Probably, yeah.” Andy shrugged beside him. “They’ve been doing that for a little while though. This won’t be any different.”
Andy supposed he was right. Sanford was a small village and villagers loved to gossip more than anything. The rumors had started about a year into their relationship-
a bit odd, innit, two bachelors living together like that and never dating anyone-
but they’d always managed to get by without too much trouble. This flat was a one bedroom flat though, and Andy knew that would raise eyebrows. It would, at the very least, become one of those things that people whispered about, even if it never really got said out loud. That would be fine. Andy knew it would be fine. It wouldn’t really be that different from the past few years, not really, just maybe a bit more frequent for a few months until things died back down.
The anxiety was still there, though, nestled in Andy’s chest alongside the excitement of moving in.
“Hey.” Andy’s voice cut into his thoughts, and Andy felt a hand slip into his. “It’ll be alright, Ands.”
“I know.”Andy squeezed his hand back with a sigh. “I just…I know it’ll be different for a little before things get back to normal. You know how people here are.”
“We’re just best friends who are saving a bit of money by only getting a one bedroom flat, that’s all.”
“This costs more than our last place.”
“Yeah, well they don’t need to know that.”
Andy couldn’t help but grin. He leaned in, resting his head on Andy’s shoulder. “None of their fuckin’ business after all.”
Andy chuckled. “None at all.”
He shifted, letting go of Andy’s hand to wrap his arm around his shoulders instead, and Andy had to admit this was nice. There was anxiety, but there was excitement too. Contentment. This was their space, just for the two of them. No rumors and raised eyebrows. Just them. “I love you, you know.”
Andy didn’t know what prompted him to say it. It wasn’t like it was a surprise or anything- they’d both been talking around it for a while now, never quite saying it but each knowing what the other meant anyway. They’d just never quite gotten around to saying it explicitly. He supposed they had to say it out loud at some point though, and this seemed like as good a time as any.
Andy pulled him in closer, pressing a kiss against the top of his head. “I love you too. Even if you are still gross and sweaty right now.”
He rolled his eyes, grinning. “Piss off, you’re just as fuckin’ gross as I am right now.”
“Feel free to get up then, I’m not stopping you.”
“Maybe I will. Leave your sweaty arse to stink up the couch.”
It was an empty threat and they both knew it, neither one making any move to get up. Part of it was just wanting to stay in their current position, pressed up against each other, but he knew part of it was just being tired. It had been a long fucking day and a bit of sweat as they shared the couch was worth being able to just sit down for a bit.
He took in the space around them again, the view slightly tilted as he kept his head rested on Andy’s shoulder. He’d never been the biggest fan of change, but this was a good one. An exciting one. Maybe a bit of a scary one too, but that was alright. They’d be fine.
He was 30 when he proposed to his best friend.
Or, well, sort of.
Andy recognized the smell of burning bacon as he wandered out of the bedroom, still half asleep and slightly hungover. They didn't go quite as hard at the pub as they used to, but it turned out not quite as hard was still enough to land him with a headache and just a hint of nausea in the morning. Lovely. Getting old, it turned out, was absolute fucking bollocks.
He wandered into the kitchen with a yawn. “You’re going to burn it again. Already most of the way there by the smell of it.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Andy was standing at the stove in nothing but boxers. Andy had told him multiple times to at least wear a shirt any time he was cooking anything with grease, but the chances of him ever listening to that were low. “I am an excellent cook and have never burnt the bacon before. Ever. Fuckin’ insulted you’d imply otherwise.”
Andy let out a noise halfway between a hum and a laugh as he headed over to the coffee machine. Neither of them had ever been a particularly good cook but neither of them were particularly picky eaters either, so it didn't really matter. All that mattered right now was that his partner had already put a pot of coffee on, which meant Andy could get some much needed caffeine.
He felt arms around his waist a moment later. “You feel as shit as I do this morning?”
Andy hummed. “Didn’t even have three full pints last night either. This whole getting old thing is bullshit.”
He felt his partner’s laugh more than he felt it. “You’ve always been a fuckin’ lightweight though, let’s be honest.”
Andy finished pouring himself a cup and turned in Andy’s arms, grinning. “That’s fuckin’ bullshit and you know it.”
“Is it though?” Andy raised an eyebrow. “Because I seem to pretty clearly recall you getting shitfaced on only two beers at Holly Netter’s birthday.”
“Okay first of all,” Andy held up a finger, “that was three years ago. Second of all, I hadn’t eaten anything all day, so it doesn’t fuckin’ count.” He frowned, motioning over to the stove with his chin. “Third of all, shouldn’t you be watching the fuckin’ food before it catches on fire.”
“You’re just pissy that I’m calling you out for being a lightweight.”
“I’m not being pissy, I’m being accurate. And I’m not a lightweight. You’re just intentionally picking a bad example.”
“And yet here you are with a hangover after, what was it? Not even three full pints?”
Andy stared at his partner over the rim of his mug. “Says the one who first admitted to feeling like shit this morning.”
“Never said it was from a hangover. Could just be-”
Whatever Andy had been about to say was cut off by the sound of the smoke detector going off. He swore and rushed back over to the stove, pulling the now smoking pan of bacon off the burner as Andy laughed. Their downstairs neighbors always complained when they set the alarm off but it was at least late enough in the morning that they shouldn’t be too mad. Certainly better than the times they’d accidentally managed to set it off while trying to drunkenly make late night food.
It took an open window for the room to clear out enough that the alarm stopped, and Andy grabbed a blanket off the couch before coming up behind where his partner was standing in front of the stove. Andy rested his chin on his shoulder and stared down at the blackened remnants of bacon in the pan. “Told you.”
“Piss off.”
Andy laughed, wrapping his arms and the blanket around his partner. “You’re going to get a cold standing here in just your boxers with the window open.”
The gentle weight of Andy leaning back against his chest made even the lingering smell of burnt bacon worth it. “That’s what you’re for, innit? To keep me nice and warm.”
“Only until you figure out what we’re going to do for breakfast now that the bacon’s a pile of fuckin’ ash.”
“And why do I have to be the one to figure that out?”
“Cause you’re the one who fuckin’ burnt it. And you’d better think quick, because I’m hungry.”
Andy snorted. “Okay, fair enough.”
The moments passed quietly, neither of them moving from where they were. Andy
was
starting to get hungry, but he was in no rush to move from their current position. Not really. He loved moments like these. Quiet ones where it was just the two of them, him and Andy side by side without the worry of anyone else seeing. And he wasn’t in any rush to end the moment now that it had started.
“Did you ever think we’d end up like this?” His partner’s voice was loud enough to break through Andy’s thoughts, but quiet enough that it didn’t quite seem to break the quiet atmosphere of the room around them.
Andy snorted. “Come on, I’ve always known you were a shit cook. Not surprised in the least we’re here in a smoky kitchen with the window open because you nearly caught the bacon on fire.”
“Arsehole.” Andy elbowed him lightly. “You know what I mean.”
He considered teasing Andy more but settled for resting his face in the crook of Andy’s neck instead. He did know what Andy meant. He would have scoffed at this back when he and Andy had first become something official. They’d only been 20, and your 20s were a time for excitement, loud pubs and late nights. Even after he and Andy had become more serious he’d still never seen himself in a domestic life.
Ten years was a long time though. A lot of time for things to change. To settle. And as the years had passed Andy had found himself enjoying the quiet moments more and more. He still enjoyed the loud pubs and late nights of course. But he’d come to enjoy the quiet mornings after too. There was no pressure here, no one who might see them and get the wrong idea. Just him and Andy. The pubs and nights out would always be fun, but they’d never have the comfort of Andy pressed back against his chest as he wrapped them both in a blanket. It was small and stupid and Andy would rather give up the world than give up this.
“I didn’t,” he admitted after a moment. “Thought it was the sort of shit only boring old people did. Figured we’d never become those.”
He could easily imagine the grin that accompanied Andy’s laugh. “Right? Never thought that would happen to either of us.”
Andy paused. “Nice though, innit?”
“Yeah. It is.”
It felt
right
being here like this. Being here with Andy in a shitty kitchenette that smelled like burnt bacon. Maybe it was stupid. At the very least it was probably an odd thing to be getting mushy and sentimental over. But that didn’t make it feel any less right.
“It’s weird, innit? I never pictured this being my future. And now I can’t imagine it being anything else.” Andy could feel a thought forming in the back of his mind, settling in like it had always been there. “I don’t think I’d be happy anywhere else.”
“You’re getting sappy, mate. Fuckin’ sentimental at the ripe old age of 30.”
Andy chuckled. “Mm, maybe. I’m not wrong though.” He shifted his grip slightly, holding his partner just a little tighter as the thought settled in his mind more fully. “I want to do this with you forever, you know that? Wake up slightly hungover and make shitty breakfasts and annoy our neighbors when the smoke alarm goes off. It’s boring and old and as long as you’re here with me for it, I don’t ever want it to end.”
Andy was quiet for a moment. “Almost sounds like you’re asking me to marry you, Ands.”
“Suppose I would be, if you were a woman. Don’t think it’s quite an option for us though.” Andy kissed the edge of his partner’s jaw. “Long as you’re here though, I think that’s enough for me.”
One of Andy’s hands came up to cover his. “Suppose that’s enough for me too.”
“Good, cause you’re not getting rid of me.”
Andy’s laugh was bright in the otherwise quiet room, and Andy felt himself smiling in response. Nothing had changed, not really. It wasn’t like this had been some major revelation or confession- Andy had been the steady constant of his life for as long as he could remember, and after ten years he supposed it had simply been an unspoken assumption that he always would be.
It wasn’t unspoken now. And while that didn’t actually change anything, it still felt fucking nice.
Andy straightened up suddenly. “Pancakes!”
The sudden movement surprised him and he frowned. “Hm?”
“Pretty sure we’ve got a box of pancake mix in the cupboard. I’ll make those for breakfast.”
Andy grinned, pressing another kiss against his partner’s jaw before finally pulling back. “That should at least be harder to catch on fire.”
“I can’t imagine why you think that would even be a possibility. I’ve never burnt pancakes in my life.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. At least we already have the window open. “ Andy pulled back, grabbing his coffee from where he’d left it on the counter as he headed over to the couch. He took a sip as he sat down- it was starting to get cold now, but he didn’t care. Not when he could watch his partner make what were undoubtedly going to be bad pancakes as the small flat settled back into comfortable silence. Mornings like these were worth treasuring, even when they came with burnt bacon. He grinned, taking another drink of coffee as Andy started humming an off-key tune in the kitchen. No-
especially
when they came with burnt bacon.
Andrew Michael Cartwright was 36 when he came out.
It had taken almost six months for the pub to be fully up and running again after everything- it certainly wasn’t like Roy and Mary could run it anymore- but it was finally back to normal. Mostly, at least. Andy didn’t think Sanford would ever really be back to normal but, after everything, he supposed that wasn’t exactly the worst thing either.
The pub was open again though, and that was all he really cared about. Andy leaned against the counter as he waited for the new owner to finish filling the glasses. He could hear Doris laughing at something back at the table and glanced back- laughing at Tony, it seemed, which was only fair. Tony usually deserved it.
“Oh come on, guys.” Nicholas was trying to defend Tony when Andy finally made it back over to the table. “Lay off him a bit.”
“Well, if you’re the one suggesting that, then I’m
definitely
going to give him a hard time.” Andy set his and Andy’s beers on the table and sat back down. “Doesn’t even matter what it’s about.”
Nicholas rolled his eyes and Tony muttered something about
still not getting it
as Andy reached over and hit his arm lightly, grinning. They’d all gotten into the habit lately of doing paperwork together in the evenings at the station- Christ, there was so much paperwork now that Nicholas was running things- but that had shifted to the pub on Friday nights now that it was open again. It was nice, really. Things were far from normal still, but this was a nice step towards it.
Bob muttered something and Andy felt his partner perk up beside him, turning to Nicholas. "Good question. How
are
you settling into the cottage? Having a field day with all the paperwork I'm assuming comes with moving into it?"
Nicholas laughed quietly. "Surprisingly little of that, actually. And I get more than my fair share of it at work already."
Andy rolled his eyes. "Oh believe me, we fuckin' know."
Nicholas shot him an amused look. "It's just part of the job, DC Cartwright. A very important part." Andy met his look with a grin and Nicholas shook his head, laughing again. "The cottage is very nice though. Thank you for asking."
"Feels weird not having him around at my place anymore." Danny grinned and hit Nicholas' arm. "Got used to seeing your ugly mug around the flat."
Nicholas' smile was surprisingly soft as he looked over at Danny. "And I'm pretty sure I'm already more moved into my place than you are into yours."
Andy glanced over at his partner. With the hotel temporarily closed in the wake of everything, Nicholas had been staying with Danny as things got finished up at the cottage, and more than a few eyebrows had been raised at the situation, both at the station and around town. No one quite knew what exactly was going on between Danny and Nicholas and no one was about to ask, but he and Andy had recognized it quickly enough. It had been a long time since they’d been in that phase with each other, but they still remembered it. The lingering looks, smiles that only seemed to be for each other, casual touches that lasted just a little bit longer than they should- Andy remembered those.
He remembered how lonely it was too. Things weren’t as bad now as they’d been back in the 90s, but Sanford was still a small town. Being different here was hard. It probably always would be, at least to some degree.
They’d talked about it. About the risks of other people knowing. Andy had pointed out that with Frank and the NWA gone they were at least less likely to wind up dead under the church, which had apparently been a risk even if they hadn’t realized it. His partner had pointed out that it was still Sanford and opinions here changed slowly, if at all. People would talk. They were
always
going to talk though, both Andys knew that.
Andy was watching him with a knowing look when he looked over, giving a small nod. He felt a hand on his knee a moment later, the gentle weight not quite enough to entirely calm the anxiety he could feel settling in his chest but enough to help. He shifted, letting his arm settle around Andy’s back, Andy leaning into the contact just slightly. “I’m surprised Nicholas didn’t unpack all your shit for you while he was there, honestly. Seems like the sort of annoying shit he’d do.”
Andy kept his tone casual and joking even as he saw eyebrows go up around the table. Danny and Tony seemed to be the only ones who didn’t react, but that wasn’t exactly a shock.
“I, uh,” Nicholas blinked. “I considered it a time or two, yeah.”
Andy laughed beside him. “Course you did.”
The conversation moved on mostly normally, comments and jabs and jokes thrown back and forth across the table like they always were. Andy caught the occasional glance thrown their way though. Mostly from Nicholas, honestly. Tony still didn’t seem to notice anything was different and all it took were a couple of looks from Doris that were somewhere between curious and amused before she was back to acting like nothing had happened. Bob had shifted back to his normal state of indifference to his surroundings after a few brief moments too, and Danny was either cheerfully oblivious or simply didn’t care. Andy supposed either was just as likely.
Nicholas kept glancing at them though. He was always quick to look away again, never looking for more than a few seconds, but Andy caught his eye enough times. He supposed if anyone was going to be most shocked about it, it made sense it was Nicholas. The Andes had been an inseparable partnership for nearly three decades by this point and everyone else at the table had been around long enough to hear the various rumors that had come with that over the years, regardless of how much stock they’d put in them at the time. Not Nicholas though.
He wasn't surprised when Nicholas got up to follow him up to the bar when he got up to get a third round. It was a third round for most of the table, so having another set of hands to carry glasses back would be helpful. Andy certainly wasn't going to turn down the help, even if he knew it was more an excuse than a legitimate offer. It was at least a good excuse, and a helpful one.
He let Nicholas be the one to break the silence as they waited at the bar. When he finally spoke, he sounded more unsure than Andy had ever heard before. "So…you and Andy. You guys are…?"
"Yeah." Andy nodded. "We are."
"Can I…can I ask how long?"
Andy paused. He and Andy had never really cared much about anniversaries or any shit like that, so he'd never really given how long they'd actually been together much thought. "Dunno, 16 years maybe?"
Nicholas' eyebrows shot up. "That long?"
Andy shrugged. "We didn't exactly have a…traditional start so it's a bit of a guess, but I suppose that's probably when we ended up with something official. Or," he tilted his head, "official as it could be, I guess."
Nicholas was watching him with such open curiosity that it was almost funny. It was the sort of unabashedly open look that Andy would have expected to see on Danny- he and Nicholas really must be rubbing off on each other. "Did…does anyone else know?"
"Not until now." Andy paused, trying to carefully think through his words before deciding it wasn't really worth the effort. "I'll be honest, it's shit sometimes. Sanford's a small town that fuckin' hates change. People talk and rumors start even when you're careful and it's a pain in the arse. I mean, two bachelor friends living together for years and never dating tends to raise a few eyebrows in a place like this." He shrugged. "Don't know that we'll ever really be open about what we have. But Sanford's at least changed enough that we maybe don't have to fully hide it anymore. And as you and Danny figure out whatever the fuck you guys are to each other, Andy and I figured we could at least make sure you guys knew you weren't the only ones. Cause trust me, that fuckin' sucks when you're trying to figure your shit out in a place like this."
Andy wanted to laugh at the red creeping into Nicholas' cheeks and under any other circumstances he definitely would have, but for once he just stayed quiet as Nicholas looked away. "Thank you. I…it means a lot."
Andy chuckled. "You're a pain in the arse and Danny's a bit of an idiot, but you're part of the station and we take care of our own here." He paused, frowning. "Suppose that…maybe isn't the best phrase to use after the whole axe murder thing, is it?"
"I appreciate the sentiment even if the context isn't great," Nicholas laughed. “Just please don’t kill anyone. The amount of paperwork that would create would be terrible.”
Andy grinned. Nicholas would probably always be a bit of an arse, but Andy supposed he ultimately wasn’t actually that bad. “And this coming from the fuckin’ king of paperwork himself.”
Doris was in the middle of some sort of story when they got back to the table, but Andy didn’t bother trying to catch up to what it was about. Instead he focused on the feeling of his partner leaning into his side as he sat back down. After 16 years it felt as natural and familiar as anything else, but it was never something he’d gotten to feel in public. The spike of anxiety in his chest was still there and he honestly doubted it would go away any time soon, not after so many years. It was nice though, anxiety or not. Comforting. Him and Andy side by side in the world just like they’d always been.
Across the table, Nicholas caught his eye and raised his pint slightly. Andy grinned, raising his own glass slightly in return as another small bit of his anxiety relaxed. Sanford wasn’t perfect. Being out wouldn’t be perfect. But it would be alright.