[Gallagher]

I have more goodies from my favorite boo, Kier. This is a snippet from younger days, when we walked five miles to school every day in the rain and snow.

Just Like Football

Standing just outside of the unfamiliar door, he took a deep breath, trying to calm the nervous twist in his stomach. After a moment, he finally reached out, knocking his knuckles against the wood. The door swung open instantly.

“Look what we have here,” the tall boy exclaimed, a wide grin plastered on his face. “I’m just chuffed to bits to see you here, you little minger.” He stepped aside, casting an arm out and gesturing toward the middle of the room. Kier gave him a questioning look, but headed past him and into the room, his attention soon shifting as he considered the messy but otherwise dull state of the place. He didn’t notice when the other closed and locked the door behind him. “Listen close now, hm?” Slowly turning to gaze up at the young man, Kier raised his brows slightly, as if to tell him to go on. “Good. Before we can really get started, there are a few rules we have to go over.”

“Rules-? Just what kind of rules?”

“Oh, you know. Just the kind to make sure we don’t have any, well, misunderstandings, aye? We want this whole—” His eyes narrowed, his already large grin widening by another fraction. “—Mentor-pupil thing to go smoothly, don’t we?”

“Yes, of course,” the younger agreed, throwing in an enthusiastic nod.

“Then belt up and pay close attention. We’ll start simple. You, call me Nev. Never Neville, and never ever Laban.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Get it sorted yet in there?” Neville called from the bedroom.

Kier could hear his steps as he approached the bathroom and the light creak of the doorframe as he leaned against it. From his place on his hands and knees, scrubbing one of the sides of the tub, he grunted softly in acknowledgement. “Just a little longer-“

“Hurry it up. You’ve taken too bloody long as it is.”

His mismatched eyes fell to his own gloved hands, a small lock of his tied hair falling into his face. “Sorry, Nev- Just trying to do a good job.” Glancing back at the older boy, he offered a small smile, and then turned his attention back to the tub. Reaching over, he turned on the water, rinsing out the sponge he’d been using. When satisfied, he went to washing off the remaining suds from the bath.

“Just like always,” Nev commented, sneering despite his pleasant tone. Unable to see his expression, Kier’s own smile warmed slightly at the sound. It wasn’t long before the smaller boy stood again. The brunette looked over his work with little actual care, making a show of letting out a long, low whistle. “Not bad, but I’ll bet you’ll manage better next time, aye?”

His brows twitched together for a second, but Kier nodded anyway, tugging off one of the gloves as he headed toward the sink. “Of course. I’ll get it perfect one of these days, just you wait.” He started to remove his other glove as well, only to be stopped by the sound of a clearing throat.

“You know better than that,” the large young man said simply, his tone just as pleasant, albeit more commanding.

“Right- Yes, sorry-” Making sure to use his gloved hand, he turned on and adjusted the water, then retrieved a squirt of liquid soap from its container and into his uncovered palm. Only then did he awkwardly move to remove the other. Neville watched the entire time as the boy washed his hands, then dried them on his pants instead of the towel easily within his reach. When he went to turn off the water again, however, Nev cleared his throat once again, making him stop. “Ah- S-sorry, I remember-” Kier fished through his pockets, pulling out and on his usual cloth gloves before reaching out to turn off the stream. He tossed the rubber pair away into the trash bin.

“There’s a good minger. You’re getting better already.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“You’re moving in with me.”

“You’re kidding.” Nev merely arched a brow at the boy’s disbelief, but the gesture was enough. “You’re not kidding.” Unamused eyes narrowed. Kier couldn’t stand that look. He turned his own gaze down to the glass in his hands. He suddenly wasn’t quite in the mood for soda. “Sorry,” he mumbled quietly.

“I didn’t catch that.” Flat. Succinct. It was as simple as possible yet more than enough.

He cleared his throat, his voice becoming more nervous but louder nonetheless. “I’m sorry, Nev. I would be happy to.” He paused, and then asked suddenly, “Why do you want me to-?”

“Do I need a reason, minger?” For the first time in their brief conversation, Neville looked up from his tea and the less than family friendly magazine he’d been enjoying.

“N-no-” Kier replied quickly, “of course you don’t- I-it’s just- I know that you have one. You always do, and always a good one at that. I’d just like to know what it is this time.”

A vague token of approval made the boy’s shoulders relax. “I’m tired of waiting for you every morning. You stay here to start with, it’s not an issue. Easy enough for you, aye?”

“Yes, Nev. Thank you.”