InsaneJournal

It had felt a little unfair that Vallo would be nice enough to send Ty all of his books, but not until after the kids were gone, and in just a gigantic pile in the middle of his floor.

His entire schedule had changed for the day. He already had the day off from work, so Ty penciled in buying more bookcases - his one here wasn’t even half full, but he had enough books to fill three or four on the floor in front of him. Once that was done, he’d taken to starting to sort into neat stacks, but lost track of time and forgot his standard lunch-meeting with Kit.

This was why he hated deviating from his written schedules. He hadn't even realized until Kit found him in the middle of all of the books and that was where they were now, sorting almost done, bookcases assembled and their empty shelves lined his wall waiting for Ty’s method to present itself. There wasn’t any floor space left available, the only surface that wasn’t completely covered in books was the bed and the small spot in front of the bookcase for Ty to stand.

“Okay, that’s… I think everything. We’re starting with the A’s. Richard Adams first, I think? Then Louisa May Alcott.” This was, in a way, a logistical nightmare and balancing act all in one, but Ty gave Kit a hopeful look. “I think they’re over there. Do you uh- mind?”

For a brief terrible horrible moment, when Ty had missed their lunch, Kit thought this was it. Ty was gone. Their weeks of tenuous, fragile friendship rebuilding was over. All the confusion of having a child in the future was going to be left on read. And of course, Kit needed to take a second to panic, feel that fleeting cold fear of abandonment, and then realize he was overreacting before he even tried to solve the problem. Rationality was a concept he could use, and so he went to find if Ty was really gone or if he was distracted by a project.

Seeing the mountains of books covering the apartment, Kit was realizing it was going to be several projects. And also, Ty was most definitely still here. Relief and concern warred with one another as he blindly agreed to help.

Sorting a massive collection could have been boring to someone like Kit, aloof, and cool, and not remotely nerdy. But nothing was boring when it was with Ty. And the monotony of making stacks and counting and cataloging before they found their places on the shelves was weirdly soothing. His brain could just internally panic where no one would notice.

He was by the bed now, watching Ty tower over the piles like Godzilla over a city. But cooler than Godzilla. Prettier. Oh no. Intrusive thoughts. "Adams. Alcott. Right, yep. I can get them," Kit said, quick to move, nearly taking out some of the books with him. He couldn't, it would be unforgivable.

It was an awkward obstacle course. And by the time found the As next to the bed, he didn't think he could make it back to hand them over. "Um, I might be stuck over here. I'm going to need some help."

Ty couldn’t help but laugh a little. “We should’ve made a path,” he had regrets now, but-- well, they were just books. Just books. There were a few in this collection that held special meaning to him but these few in the A’s didn’t register. At least they had Shadowhunter skills to fall back on when it came to things like this.

Though, throwing books and catching them across the room from your crush in an alternate world probably wasn’t what they meant when they were being trained for throwing accuracy. But he knew Kit was almost as good with a knife as he was, and Ty trusted him.

Ty trusted him. With his books. In his life. With everything that had ever mattered to him since Ty had met Kit, Ty had trusted him. He could confidently stand there with hands out, and wait for that throw, no problem. “You can throw them, I’ll catch.”

Kit looked skeptical. He had already begun gathering books in his hands, ready to carefully hand them over to Ty. Sure he was good with a knife, but these were bulkier, and not his. Something about slinging Ty's things made him feel... weird. Not in a bad way, just that he was trusted to do something ridiculous and somehow not mess it up. Still, the look he leveled at Ty was so full of uncertainty, that Kit was slow to put the books down.

"Are you sure? Maybe I don't need help. I could do it. If I just—" He lifted his leg to step over the stack of D-named authors, and immediately felt off balance. He was lucky that behind him was the bed, and crashing into it would at least be soft. But Kit stayed adamantly upright. He exhaled, without argument, and put all but one book down.

He weighed in his hand, the same way he did with the hilt of a knife. Checking the balance, aligning the shot. Usually this was all done simultaneously as he threw it, but books were definitely not knives and a lot more variables where things could go wrong. He raised it, ready to throw and then, "How sure are you?"

Ty’s heart jumped into his throat. He was sure, right up until Kit almost knocked over the neat pile of Sherlock books. He’d already let his fingers gently run over the bound edge of the one on the very top, his favorite. “I’m sure, just--”

He didn’t want to make Kit second-guess this, or hesitate. They were just books. But he still gestured to the pile right next to Kit’s leg. “My favorite book is in that one so, be careful? But you can throw me Watership Down, I don’t even really like it that much.” But he had a thing against getting rid of books if he could help it, even his less-read ones stayed back at the Institute and then went onto Blackthorn Hall.

Only his favorites had gone with him to the Scholomance, and that first edition Holmes hadn’t left his side until he ended up here in Vallo. But now he felt like he owed Kit an explanation, “It’s a first edition.”

Looking down at the stack, Kit knew the book Ty was talking about. He had agonized about sending it. He'd let it rot away in his brain about what a terrible idea it was to gift it to Ty, even anonymously. Because Kit had convinced himself he was done with Ty after the confrontation, and the failed resurrection. After their fight. But there was Kit, thinking about Ty—always thinking about Ty—and the book had been offloaded to the Blackthorn who deserved it the most for the holidays.

Knowing that it was Ty's favorite now though made Kit want to do really idiotic things. Like tell him he loved him all over again. But they weren't there anymore. And they hadn't even talked about Olivia yet. Kit decided to be masochistic though, a Herondale trait it seemed, and dug through the pile until he found it the Sherlock Holmes book. He was not, however, going to throw either at the moment. He'd reconsider tossing Watership Down later.

"I know," Kit said quietly. With gentle hands, he thumbed through the pages carefully. He had worried, when it was in his possession, that he might mess it up if he touched it too much. Now it felt like he had to. "Anonymous gift, right? At Christmas?"

Ty froze in place as soon as Kit’s fingers touched the book. He’d assumed that someone like Magnus had sent it? Or Professor Loss (but not Ragnor, who liked to be known for the good deeds he’d done and would have loudly proclaimed it was a gift from him). But he hadn’t been optimistic enough to ever hope that the gift had come from Kit.

He’d cherished it in a way that made him wish it had. How many times had he held the book to his chest and not read it and just pictured Kit there with him? It felt not-real, like the young girl that had arrived and called herself their child and they’d talked about books and family and Ty had gotten to know her while still wondering if this was even possible. If they were even possible.

“You-- um. You sent it?” Ty normally didn’t stumble over his words but now he couldn’t figure out the right ones in the right order and how to speak them out loud. “I didn’t- Why didn’t you say anything?” Ty thought he’d known why, thought that Kit had hated him - they had thankfully cleared that up already, but he was still left confused.

Kit could feel his whole face heat up. He scratched at his nose, rubbed at the back of his head, and was still holding the offending book. He wanted to drop it, like somehow if he could put some distance between himself and the object, Kit wouldn't have to explain himself. That was someone else's book, someone else's gift to Ty. Certainly not Kit who just admitted to it.

"I don't know? I don't know why I sent it. Or say anything. It just happened," Kit said. Terrible excuse, really. And he knew it was terrible so he just continued. "I saw it, and I thought of you, and it just felt like something I needed to do. But we weren't talking and I didn't know how we were going to talk again and figure out a way that it would make sense to give it to you. So I just did, without wanting anything in return." Kit shrugged. It was the truth. Part of it anyway.

He was still holding the book, so he put it down on the bed where it would be safe from his attempted hurdles and any other collateral damage that could happen while Kit tried to sort out how to explain a gift. Kit had believed he wasn't going to ever see Ty again, and that he might not have to have this conversation at all. "I still thought about you, Ty. Even when I was—" Kit gestured in a way that was supposed to mean mad.

“Oh.” Ty suddenly wanted the book. He wanted to hug it to his chest and use it as a piece of comfort as the puzzle seemed to snap itself together. But they were too far away from each other and Ty risked knocking over a hundred books to try and get to it. So he just looked at it, to avoid staring directly at Kit’s beautiful face.

When he looked at that face, he got overwhelmed and distracted. It was easy to do, with Kit looking how Kit looked, but not as easy to explain.

But that also meant Ty was now looking at the bed, and his face flushed. “I used to hope it was you. I wrote you letters. But they said I shouldn’t--” Magnus, Ragnor, Catarina. They’d told him to let Kit have his space, so he did. Ty ended the explanation with a sad little shrug, “I don’t have them here.”

Finally, he looked up at Kit. Ty always had trouble looking people in the eye, because it felt like he learned too much about them that way and it became overwhelming very quickly, but Kit had very nice eyes and was easy to look at. “Thank you. Really. It’s the best gift anyone’s ever given me.” He paused, stuttered, and forced more words out. “I’m glad it was from you.”

The thought that Ty was writing him letters did complicated things in Kit's stomach. He used to immediately shove those feelings down because he wasn't supposed to feel them. He had been mad at Ty, he had to keep telling himself that when they were apart. So anything else other than anger and hurt and rejection felt like he was minimizing his reaction to the whole argument in the first place. But now? Now that things were better? Getting better, mostly, Kit let himself feel that small, ridiculous flutter of joy at Ty saying I used hope it was you.

"Yeah, well," Kit said, rubbing at the bridge of his nose again, like an anxious tick. He wanted to hide his face, not give away his secrets. And with Ty looking at him, really, honestly looking at him and not turning away, it was hard. Kit could only do the same, so that they felt equal. He stopped hiding. Or as much as he could when hundreds of books separated them.

"I told a lot of people I didn't want to hear from you, which—which I know is a mistake now. I shouldn't have done that. But maybe they were just trying to help. I'd still like to see them, the letters. If they ever, you know, show up here." This was where Kit tried to step forward, like he could close that distance immediately. He wanted to do stupid reckless things with Ty, like say I love you again, even kiss him. But instead he sort of wobbled on his feet in indecision.

"But I'm glad you're glad it was from me." Smooth, really smooth. Words were awesome. He was supposed to be way better at talking than this. He picked up the first edition again from the bed, and reached as far as he could to hand it over to Ty. "You might want to hang on to it so it doesn't get lost in all of this."

“Okay,” It could be the answer to a lot of Kit’s remarks, that ready agreement that was pretty much always at the tip of his tongue when it came to Kit. Ty leaned over and took the book and immediately brought it to his chest to hold firmly. He held it there for a few seconds, and then put it on his beside table, where it would stay for the time being.

He looked back at the other books and winced, “We should put these away before we’re stuck here and someone has to go to the bathroom. Start handing me A’s?” It felt better for his brain to stay on task and organized, and he could do this while also still talking to Kit. Probably. Maybe.

Or he’d get distracted again, but that was clearly a risk Ty was willing to take as he peeked up at Kit through the hair that had fallen over his eyes. “I liked meeting Olivia. She seemed…” He had a million words in his brain but only one came out with a little laugh. “Cool.”

Okay. That was enough for Kit. It didn't dispel the the new awkward feeling that had risen up inside him. Not the unpleasant kind, just like knowing something was unfinished, like a light he forgot to switch off but he was too far away to do anything about it now. He was more than happy to keep organizing books and not talking about his feelings. Or talk about the way he had done objectively not-mad-at-Ty things while supposedly never wanting to speak to him again.

He started handing Ty books, but he was doing that staring thing, watching how he was gathering them together while he kept talking. To say Kit looked a little spooked when Ty brought up Olivia was an understatement. He couldn't even hide that he was gawking.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, she was cool. She kicked our butts in laser tag," Kit said, lamely. That was not the takeaway that Ty was getting at, but it was the safest. Kit knew they were going to discuss her at some point. But Kit has been playing a personal game of chicken about bringing it up. Instead of being quiet, however, he took the opportunity to ask what had also been plaguing him: "What do you think she means about us?"

Ty smiled just a little. He’d never actually played laser tag, but Olivia had told him. “She told me when I woke back up um, me.” Not that the person that had been here for a few days wasn’t him - but Ty didn’t remember it, and so it was hard to connect the two. But all three of the people he loved and trusted most had told him it was true.

Not Livvy, though. She had shown up herself with no memory of Ty being older, and that had been a question sitting at the back of his mind. That wasn’t what Kit asked, though, and Ty paused in his task of mindlessly stacking books in alphabetical order. “I think she makes sense.” He said this after a moment of thinking about it, and then went to his standard level of blunt honesty.

“I never really thought I would get married but if I did, it would be you. And kids are a natural byproduct of that.” Another pause. “But maybe not as many as my parents had.”

Could a person choke on their own spit? Kit was sure that Ty could tell him whether or not that was true, but right now he was dramatically going to believe it. He started coughing, surprise pulled right out of him. He had been thinking it, but he had mostly believed that Ty didn't—it was easier to keep a calm and level head about the whole situation if Ty was mostly back to ignoring his advances. Though, Kit couldn't really say what advances he was doing when he was vehemently keeping Ty at arm's length.

"You think, you think she makes sense?" Kit asked, earnestly, his coughing fit mostly passed. "I mean, yeah she makes sense where she's kind of like you and kind of like me. Like that makes sense if she's supposed to be our kid from the future. But you know. I didn't think that—" Kit could hear his brain crashing and burning as he tried to put the words together. Ty's ability to state things bluntly sometimes just threw Kit for a loop.

Maybe he should have taken the same course of action. He tried. "Why would it be me?" Did he sound pitiful? Hopeful? Too needy? Kit almost regretted the words the moment they came out. He was setting himself up for rejection again, and Kit really was a masochist.

Ty jumped slightly and became more concerned with Kit’s coughing than the topic at hand. He immediately calculated the distance of jumping over the bed to help him, thought about the escape scenarios that would be needed in case Kit was actually choking, how loud he would have to yell to get Julian’s attention (probably not that loud), how quickly he could get Kit to the clinic…

All of that webbed up his brain and it took him a second to catch up to the fact that Kit was still talking and asking questions. Ty had to shake his head to clear it and then was worried it would be misconstrued as some kind of rejection.

Again. His rejection before had been the result of a Ty that had been too overwhelmed, too consumed, too obsessed with his task at hand. He hadn’t had any room for letting himself feel anything other than grief at the time. “Because you’re the only person I’ve ever liked like that.” Love felt like too heavy of a word to use right now, even after his talk with Julian. “But I know you- Whatever you felt was years ago and I know you’ve moved on. That’s okay. It just made sense to me with Olivia because I’ve never liked anyone else like I like you.”

Kit wasn't going to say it out loud, not in the presence of Ty and his collection, but he hated books right now. He hated them in piles. He hated that there were so many. He hated that it was currently the one thing keeping them apart. And he was pretty sure he hated how he would suddenly lose all his mobility skills trying to climb over them because books were now his new favored enemy. It wasn't fair that Ty was saying things to him—things that Kit had kind of, sort of imagined over the years being said to him—and the books, the books, wouldn't let him touch him.

"You're wrong, Ty," Kit blurted out immediately. He was going to stop that train of thought from Ty before it went too far. Maybe it had, if he believed Kit had moved on. He had never moved on. He had stubbornly stayed in his little stasis for years. Still waiting for words that might have never come. "You're wrong about the moving on thing. I didn't move on. I tried to—I mean, I really, really tried to. Because you and me, we weren't supposed to talk like this."

He gestured between the two of them, as if that could encompass all the feelings that were still currently left unsaid. "Talk about how we felt about each other. But I didn't move on. It's why I didn't see you. Or want to see you because I still lo—" Nope, no. "I still like you, like that."

“Oh.” There were still a lot of books between them, and Ty went back to avoiding Kit’s eyes and looking at the books instead, as if he was trying to figure out how to neatly move them without knocking anything over.

He couldn’t figure it out. But there was the bed, and it was possible to climb over that? Ty was getting distracted from the conversation at hand, but his face was flushed and he wasn’t sure what else there was to say other than Oh. How did regular people have these conversations? From what he’d gathered from Jules and Emma, they were always either dramatic or overly lovey, and Ty didn’t know how to be either.

This was uncharted territory. “Um. Cool?” Ty winced immediately at his own voice, he sounded dumb. “Sorry, not- I wasn’t ready before. I was confused and there was a lot going on in my head and that wasn’t fair to you. I saw you kiss Livvy, before, and I thought that was what you wanted. So it was a lot to-- process.”

Kit also winced at the word cool. He was really terrible with timing, and Ty's reaction was his own fault. Kit had been so worked up about saying the words to him—or getting close to saying them again—that he wasn't reading the room. He might have appreciated the bad joke being surrounded by books, if the conversation hadn't veered so seriously.

"Sorry, I'm—there is a lot going on right now too. And I knew then. I knew there was a lot happening. It was not a good time. I just had thought maybe I could make you see that you weren't alone. And, kissing Livvy was..." Not a mistake, but not right; they had both agreed. But he definitely wouldn't say that out loud, and he definitely, definitely wouldn't say it if she was in the room. But she wasn't and it felt like she had done it on purpose. Like she knew this book sorting would turn into feelings.

Kit had never been more thankful for being alone with Ty.

"We kissed but it was just because she never had. It wasn't romantic or anything and I didn't know you—" Dawning realization was spreading across Kit's face. "I didn't know you saw that. But I wanted to kiss you then. I mean, if we're being honest, I want to kiss you now but."

Too much, Kit. Too much honesty in one go. Normally, Kit would turn away, go back to pretending everything was platonic and not awkward. But he waited, watched Ty, hoping the honesty had been worth it.

Oh, his brain echoed, but he didn’t let his mouth say it out loud again. For a long time, he’d assumed Kit had been interested in Livvy. That his helping Ty had been for Livvy, after that kiss. Livvy had brushed him off when she was a ghost and he’d mentioned it, but Ty hadn’t wanted to delve deep into something that seemed fruitless while Kit wasn’t talking to him.

Now it made a lot more sense. It seemed to all slot into place in his head, and realization slowly dawned as he looked back up at Kit. “I understand.” And he did. “I’m not confused about it anymore.” Ty was more confused about how own feelings than he was about Kit’s, at this point. He had never been good at taking a leap - but with Kit he wanted to try.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” He’d had a few offers at the Scholomance but Ty hadn’t taken anyone up on them. “So, you could. If you wanted to. But maybe not with--” Ty gestured to all the books around them, their current stopping block.

I understand were the most beautiful two words Ty had ever uttered at him. That was dramatic, and silly, but it was true. Kit understood Ty, and what understanding meant, and that was enough for him to look relieved. He felt relieved, unsatisfied with how physically close they were, which was not at all. Again, Kit hated the books.

He held up a hand to indicated 'one second' and then said, "Just give me a second." Kit lifted one leg high over a pile of books. Then another. An awkward high-stepping across the bedroom. The place felt like crossing an ocean. He was no longer shouting from the shore at Ty who was on the other side. The were tides moving closer and closer until finally Kit crossed the last wave—or in this case, the last pile of books—to stand inordinately close to Ty.

Kit did, however, manage to catch his foot on the top of one of the piles and it came crashing down spectacularly. "Sorry, shit, I'm sorry, this was not—I'm just trying to kiss you, and knew, I knew I was going to knock some over." Kit reached for them, hastily putting them back on top of each other. He would re-sort them, but first: Ty.

Taking a deep breath, then another, Kit was unable to tear his eyes away from Ty. This was real right? This was happening? Was Kit really putting his hands on Ty's cheeks to steady themselves? Was he really leaning in? Was he really hesitating because he thought Ty might change his mind at the last second, and that was okay? Was he really pressing the softest, simplest, tentative kiss to Ty's lips? Yes, finally, yes.

Ty’s hands itched. But not because of the impending kiss, but because he really wanted to fix the books. Impulsively wanted to reach out and right them properly before he could focus on the kissing part of things, but Kit was there in his personal space and then he was touching him and Ty didn’t normally let people touch him unless they were family.

Or they were Kit. Because Ty found that he liked the way Kit’s hand felt on him, and he liked when they touched. The moments their hands bumped or their shoulders grazed each other were always ones that he remembered, and the very same ones sent a shiver down his spine.

So he didn’t touch the books. Instead, he hyper-focused on Kit, and his lips parted just slightly - but he wasn’t entirely sure what to do, so he just whispered. “It’s okay.” His experience with kissing came entirely from books, because he had avoided watching his siblings in all of their various dramatic relationships and they usually parted their lips?

He was overthinking it when they were suddenly kissing, and it felt nice. Warm and inviting, and it made him want more. Ty leaned in, his hand drifted up to tentatively hold onto Kit’s side, but the hold got more and more sure of itself and he pulled Kit in closer.

Okay, this was not exploding in his face. Quite the opposite actually. And all the cautious exploratory kissing started to turn a little more solid, a little more real. Ty wasn't pulling away, in fact, he was touching Kit with just enough pressure that it bolstered Kit's own confidence. The hands on Ty's face went from his cheeks into his hair. And Kit breathed through his nose, and leaned in a little more, opened his mouth a little wider. The sweet kiss went a little less sweet as Kit started to press his body against Ty's and—

The door opening was so loud. Kit jumped away from Ty, like he had just been electrocuted. He almost wished he was. It would have been kinder than meeting the eyes of Ty's older brother who had barged in. They weren't loud, were they? Maybe it had been the books falling to the floor. Or the length of silence that had passed between them while they were kissing. Kit dared to take a furtive glance at Ty, who absolutely looked like he had just been thoroughly kissed by Kit. Kit's own lips tingled too, and so there was no hiding what they had been doing.

"I'm, we were, it's—hnng," Kit tried for words. He was just blue screening. He just couldn't stop thinking about kissing Ty. And he would think of nothing else unless he left this room. "I'm going, out there, yep. This was great. I'll come back later with more sorting."

Kit would never look at book sorting the same way again.

He pointed past Julian as he attempted to make his way through the books and through the door. He was trying to convey to Ty a lot of things with his eyes as he kept looking back, but mostly I want to do what we just did again.

Ty wasn’t faring much better with his own words. His hand immediately went up to the back of his neck, and it felt hot to the touch as his blush crept up his entire body and lit his face on fire. “Um.” Okay so he was back to not making any eye contact and looked incredibly awkward standing there alone in this space, surrounded by all of his books. “I’m just going to--”

Ty gestured around, at all of those books. At everything around him. Just a broad gesture that didn’t make him feel suddenly any less embarrassed. It was such an abrupt shift from feeling warm and pleasant in Kit’s arms to-- alone, and a little cold. His big brother standing in the doorway.

To Jules, Ty finally gave a sheepish grin. “Don’t be mad.”