InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "hahaha...i like it!"

When the journals stopped working, it was… a relief. Rafael had stared at his for a moment after learning the news, and had then tossed the dead thing in a drawer with little feeling. No more worrying that every post he wrote would incite a fight. No more concerns that trying to meet his responsibilities would entice Chris or one of his friends to criticise how he was handling the problem. No more explicit graffiti around his comments. No more reminders that most people hated him. No more comments about his dick or how he and Leo acted together.

Y que no ya no regrese. It doesn’t stop people from resenting him but it makes him harder to find. In this moment, he hopes they never fix the stupid things.

Despite all of that, he smiles when he sees Leo. In the library, naturally, but blessedly alone. Rafael likes all of their study partners (Do any of them think it’s disgusting when he kisses Leo?), but he doesn’t want anyone else’s company today. He’s been less social lately.

“¿Cómo estás?” he says, smiling as he slips into the seat next to Leo. He scoots his chair in closer to Leo and defiantly kisses him in greeting, just in case someone is watching.

Leo, deep in his studies, didn’t hear Rafael approaching at all. There wasn’t much of a chance to do his homework yesterday. He’d been far too busy not being able to stop watching that car wreck of an anonymous post, scrambling at damage control, and ultimately pacing his dorm to stop himself from personally ripping journals out of the hands of everyone to set them all on fire. The teachers, or maybe the universe, had taken care of that for him today. It was a welcome break. And so is Rafael, when he hears the shift of a chair next to him.

“Hey.” Leo reaches for his hand, and it’s just as fond as it is protective. He tries for that, anyway. He’s been worried about Rafael for weeks, and it always gets worse after nights like yesterday. It takes a lot not be too protective or clutch at him too tightly. That’s stupid. He makes up for it by returning the kiss enthusiastically. He, too, really hopes someone wants to say something today. Let them.

“Glad you’re here. Swear they’re making essays more boring, deeper into the school year.” But he doesn’t really want to talk about school. He tries very hard to not make, “How are you?” sound loaded. But with everything Rafael was facing, sometimes he couldn’t help it.

Rafael smiles tightly and tries not to seem too intense when he squeezes Leo’s hand. “Let me distract you from your boring essays.”

With what? he thinks. Complaining? He sighs and rolls his head and shoulders, trying to work out some of the tension. Quinn’s prescription and the inability to impulsively check his journal has helped with some of that. “I have been thinking too much.”

Leo flips the book he'd been working with closed, to show exactly where his priorities are right now. “You'd be my hero.” His own smile is decidedly less tense and more soft, like that plus his fingers stroking Rafael's wrist could possibly make a dent in any of his stress. He hates not being able to do more.

So the confession isn't a surprise. Leo has too. He nods.“Lots of time for that lately. Now that people have literally assholed the journals to death.”

He is not smiling nearly enough for that to have been a joke. “Or did something else happen?”

Rafael gives a small snort of laughter as he looks at their intertwined hands. He taps his fingers against Leo’s hand thoughtfully. “No, that is all that happened.”

Well, not all. He looks around, just to make sure no one is listening in. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t tell anyone. But Leo isn’t just anyone. “But I got high with Quinn,” he announces, so matter-of-factly that the casual tone sounds blatantly forced. Rafael looks up at Leo to gauge his reaction.

His first response is a small pulse of a smile, as Leo tries to puzzle out the rest of it. It explains a lot about the last conversation they’d been able to have on the journals. There’s exactly one second of guilt for not having any equivalent solutions, and only checking in later. He shows it by bringing their joined knuckles to his lips, a wordless apology he won’t try to explain. Leo tries to dismiss it after that.

Mostly, he’s glad. If anyone had a reason to get high on Sunday, it was absolutely Rafael and Quinn. He keeps his voice low, and just as casual. He’s still not letting go of the hand in his. “Good.” Well. “I mean. If it helped. It did?”

“It did,” he agrees with a guilty smile. “Temporarily, anyway.” The hand still near Leo’s face lets go of his hand only to reach a little further and brush the line of Leo’s sharp jaw. Rafael can’t quite process how lucky he is to have Leo. Through the haze of his adventures with Quinn, he remembers Leo’s tentative offer to move to Mexico. Rafael isn’t sure why he’s always assumed no one would consider that for him, but the thought that Leo might had left him mute for a moment.

“I was very...” Angry. Rafael stops before he uses that word. He knows it’s inaccurate. His hand slides down to Leo’s neck. “Hurt?” he finally says, unhappily.

It's hard for Leo to not remember all the people (or just one person a lot of times?) criticizing the way he's affectionate with his boyfriend. It makes him wonder if it's asking for more of the same by just leaning more closely towards Rafael's touch, by reaching out to brush hair from his face. He does both those things anyway. If he's adding to the problem, he'll be there to defend it later. It's still hard knowing it could all backfire and hurt Rafael again. Defiance and caution is a balance he hasn't mastered yet.

Being faced with a hurt Rafael is something he isn't used to either. Leo's first impulse is to get up, right now, and methodically destroy everyone who contributed to this. His muscles tense once like he's about to. He smiles a little sadly instead, and stays. He can't hunt down faceless people. Leo knows.

“They were cruel.” He agrees, instead, which is useless. “You know none of this is your fault. And about half of it is probably Chris anyway.” (That is his current theory, at least.) “I'll send all my bludgers at him next game, for you.” It's the one concrete thing he can do, but the offer is mostly to try to make Rafael smile.

And Rafael does smile, even if it’s a little wry. “Mi héroe,” Rafael teases. “But no, do not sacrifice your strategy for... revenge.” He huffs a little, the ghost of a laugh. Despite discouraging that line of thought, he does agree with part of what Leo said: it was probably mostly Chris. There’s a dark part of Rafael that wouldn’t mind seeing Leo knock him out of the sky, but he knows that wouldn’t help. The more Leo or Quinn get involved, the lower everyone’s opinions of them become. He just needs a day or two of silence, and then he’ll be fine. This will pass, they’ll get bored, just like every other time he’s had a big public argument with Chris or his friends.

Rafael exhales, and drops his head to Leo’s shoulder. His voice remains level and controlled. “I make myself very hard to like,” which is the closest he can come to saying I think people hate me. “Ah well. What else can I do?”

Leo suddenly wishes they were not in the library, so he could pull much closer. “You are not hard to like.” This is said fiercely, a fact, punctuated by a swift kiss to the first part of Rafael’s head his lips could reach. “You’re not.” Leo knows he has to say that, he’s biased, but he doesn’t care. He drives every word in, because he believes it.

“You’re allowed to have standards.” Leo forces his voice to grow calmer, and he brings his hand up to cradle Rafael’s head, fingers pulling absently through his hair. “ You have people who will always stand with you. And we have much better taste than the idiots who punish you for their own mistakes. Maybe they’re louder, and they draw in more journals. That doesn’t make them right.”

Rafael reluctantly sits up to look at Leo’s face. He takes a deep breath, although he feels calm enough right now. Maybe it’s Leo, or maybe it’s time away from the problem. He’s tired, but he doesn’t have to steel his expression or anything like that. Which is good, since they’re not alone, although Rafael stopped thinking about whether or not they were being watched a while ago.

He wishes it were easier to hear Leo’s reassurances. Rafael believes him, but he’s never been good at gracefully accepting comfort. He sought this out, though, didn’t he? He confessed his worries, and now Leo is telling him things will be alright, and he’s done nothing wrong. Rafael imagines that if Leo were dating someone else, they would be able to handle these conversations better. Selfishly, he’s glad no one else had the chance.

“The people that matter like me,” he agrees quietly.

Leo knows he’s bad at this. Rafael still looks very tired, sounds too quiet. His mouth twists a little,searching his brain for something more legitimately comforting to offer. He wants to say how he would hunt down everyone who hid behind an anonymous comment if that made things easier, but it wouldn’t. The most annoying part of all of this was that he had no way to really stop it. He hopes, in this moment, the journals will stay quiet forever. That would fix some things.

Instead of saying anything more right away, Leo takes Rafael’s hand back, just to have another point of contact when he leans closer to kiss him, swift, in case Rafael doesn’t want to give more fodder to the watching eyes just yet. “I wish I could fix the rest of them. I’m with you. All the way.”
He isn’t sure what that’s worth. Maybe nothing. It still feels important to say.

Rafael feels his heart swell. There are a lot of things he could say, and he rapidly debates all of them, only to come up empty handed. A silent moment passes, and Rafael’s eyebrows start to knit together. His eyes sting. It’s not a familiar feeling, but anyone can identify the moment right before they start to cry. Rafael won’t let it happen.

Abruptly, he leans in and gives Leo another kiss, crushing and certain.

The magnitude of it catches Leo by surprise, but he’s always been adaptable. He fumbles while leaning in for just a second, then catches the back of Rafael’s head, holding it in place to kiss him back with just as much abandon. If this is what he can do right now, Leo will at least give it all the intensity he gives everything he cares for.

Crack!

A sharp snap of a hardcover book being struck against the table in front of them causes the two boys to break apart with a jump. Several freshmen at the next table gasp, nearly as startled. Staring down at the young couple is Ms. Petrichor, with her lips twisted into a very unamused frown. There’s a copy of Potions Lost to Time in her hands, still held firmly where she let it fall against the wood.

“This is a library, gentlemen,” she says coldly, enunciating each syllable. “Not your personal romantic getaway. Mr. Fiori, Mr. Ramirez, you’ll be allowed back into the library... tomorrow.”

There’s a scramble of embarrassed apologies over books and quills being quickly shoved into bags. Ms. Petrichor waits until the lovebirds have left before rounding on the wide-eyed freshmen. They get back to work before she needs to tell them that she can spot a gossip just by looking in their eyes.