Chapter Text
Naim wasn’t usually a quiet guy. In his old town, before his dad died, people had considered him talkative, sometimes even funny. But here, in this small, industrial town with its grey buildings and grey smoke, Naim felt small. His mum said she felt more connected to God here, but Naim couldn’t feel it. If God lived here, in these people’s hawklike stares, in their whispers and gossip, Naim didn’t want any part of it. Each glance, each prayer, even the grey brick of the church, felt suffocating.
School was the worst. Less than two hundred kids went there, and nearly every one of them had grown up together. Friendship groups were already formed, lines were drawn, and no-one wanted to include the strange new kid. It was like they could sense the ‘other’ from him, and Naim hated them for it. So, he grew quiet, either because he didn’t have anything to say or because he knew they wouldn’t listen. Remaining quiet granted him something else though; an ability to observe people without being noticed. There was one boy in particular he couldn’t help watching. He hadn’t noticed him his first day; too caught up in his own head and overwhelmed by how different everything was. But the second day, he’d caught him staring.
Naim was busy sketching a bird in his notebook. The teacher was droning on about kinetic energy and chemical equations but it all formed background noise in Naim’s brain. He carved out each feather with his pencil, giving the bird wings large enough to fly thousands of miles away. He was adding in the final details when he felt the back of his neck prickling. Subtly turning his head, his eyes met with a boy’s. A boy with blonde curls. Ryan. Somehow Naim had already picked that up. The corner of Ryan’s mouth tilted upwards and something jolted in Naim’s stomach. Naim wanted to smile back but he didn’t. A beat passed. Ryan glanced away and the moment was broken. Naim focussed back on his notebook but his pencil didn’t move, the sketch momentarily forgotten.
After that, Naim felt his eyes being drawn to the tall boy, with his blonde curls and loud laugh. It wasn’t anything more but a simple curiosity, something that nipped at his chest and made him want to be near him. He would glance at Ryan in class, hoping he’d be looking back. But apart from that first time, he never was. Weeks passed. Naim would watch Ryan at lunch, noticing how he was his loudest when he was with his friends. He’d joke, say ‘mate’ a lot, and somehow make his country accent even stronger, like the tradies that worked near the factories. He always wore a silver chain under his school uniform. Naim wondered if it held any meaning. Naim wondered a lot of things.
One day during lunch, Naim was smoking a joint in the bathroom of the old sports building. After his second week here, Naim had discovered the building was rarely used since the school hall had been renovated due to some large donations from the church. That meant teachers rarely checked in there, making it a perfect place to get away from everyone. He sat on the window ledge, exhaling smoke out the open window. The bathroom smelled faintly of mold and dirt but Naim didn’t mind. He fiddled with the chain around his neck, rubbing his thumb against the cool metal of the ring hanging off it. It was his dad’s ring, and after his death he’d attached it to the chain and hadn’t taken it off. Most days it comforted him, made it seem like his dad was still there with him. His mind drifted again to the person it kept drifting to these days. He wondered what his dad would think if he knew.
Naim inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in his lungs before slowly exhaling. The bathroom door creaked open. Startled, Naim hurried to hide his cigarette when his gaze met Ryan’s. He stilled, watching him. Ryan blinked, seeming just as surprised at seeing him there. He hesitated, then moved to settle opposite Naim on the window ledge, propping his leg up on one of the old sinks. It had a faulty tap, water dripping steadily into the basin. Drip. Drip. Naim wondered if he should speak. Ryan bet him to it.
“Hey.”
Ryan’s voice was quiet, quieter than Naim had ever heard it.
“Hey.”
Ryan’s mouth curved up in a half smile and Naim’s gaze was drawn in by the movement. He quickly looked away before Ryan could notice. The blonde boy pulled out a joint, then fumbled around in his pockets. After a moment, he swore under his breath.
“Lighter?” Naim asked, holding his own out. Ryan nodded gratefully and leaned forward. Naim waited for him to take it, but he didn’t. Instead, he placed the joint between his lips and tilted his head towards Naim. This close, Naim could see the faint freckles across his nose, the soft stubble on his jaw. He swallowed, narrowly avoiding dropping the lighter. After several attempts, a flame flared to life, catching onto the end of the joint. Ryan looked up at him, something almost teasing in his eyes. Naim couldn’t look away. All he had to do was lean forward and their foreheads would touch. Drip. Drip. Drip. The tap seemed to get louder. Naim’s next inhale was shaky. Ryan leaned back, taking a drag from his cigarette and studying Naim curiously. Naim hurried to do the same, feeling slightly off kilter.
They stayed there until the bell rang, smoking and exchanging glances. No words were spoken. It should’ve felt awkward but instead Naim felt almost comfortable. He didn’t know why he felt so happy just to sit in the same space as Ryan, breathing in the same air. When they had to get back to class, Ryan offered him a mint. Naim took it, his fingers lightly grazing the other boy’s palm. Ryan’s hand twitched then came to rest by his side. With one last glance at Naim, he exited the bathroom. Naim stayed there longer than he should have, trying to steady his heartbeat.
Naim wasn’t sure what he’d hoped for after that. If maybe Ryan would greet him in the hallway or smile at him in class. But nothing happened. Ryan would walk past him at school, not sparing him a glance. It was like Naim didn’t even exist. Naim tried to not let it hurt; they were strangers, they didn’t owe each other anything. But his chest still betrayed him by pinching every time Ryan ignored him. In the quiet of his bedroom, he tried to reason with himself. This was a good thing. If they ignored each other long enough, maybe his feelings would go away. Getting closer to that boy would only bring trouble. But then he thought about the curve of Ryan’s mouth, the way his school uniform fit him, the way he’d looked at him in the school bathroom, and his skin would burn. He would dive head first into that trouble, consequences be damned.
He couldn’t deny what he felt now. He could only hide from himself for so long. He was attracted to Ryan, in a way he’d never felt before. Sure, there’d been passing crushes growing up, boys that he’d looked too at long, but nothing as consuming as this. It was wrong. Feeling like this for another boy was wrong. He knew that. He’d been told it his whole life. But every time he looked at Ryan, he couldn’t find it in himself to believe it.
Two whole months passed before something finally happened. Naim was at church, wishing he was anywhere else. He was distinctly aware of Ryan in the row across from him, standing stiffly next to his mother. The priest’s daughter, Izzy, was singing a gospel song into the microphone. Everyone around Naim was singing along, swaying to the music. Naim glanced at Ryan, noticing he was the only other person besides himself who wasn’t singing. An old lady stood on the other side of Ryan, holding her hands up to the ceiling like she was reaching for God himself. She let out a long, exulting wail in the middle of the song and Naim nearly snorted out loud. Ryan noticed, his mouth twitching. The lady did it again and Ryan’s shoulders shook. Naim bit his lip to stop from laughing. Ryan’s eyes flicked to his and it nearly sent him over the edge. He pointedly avoided Ryan’s eye contact, face turning red with the effort of not laughing. Beside him, he felt his mother shoot him a disproving frown. Daring to glance at Ryan again, the other boy mimicked holding his hands out like the old lady and Naim wheezed; a short, choking sound of laughter. He heard Ryan laughing along with him. Naim’s mother nudged him with a glare.
“Sorry,” Naim muttered. “Just happy to be feeling the spirit of God and all that.” His mother shook her head but turned her attention away from him. He looked back at Ryan and found the other boy grinning at him. It was a wide, unabashed grin, and Naim had never been the recipient of it before. His stomach dipped, heat crawling up his skin. Then, like he’d suddenly grown conscious of where they were, Ryan wrenched his gaze away, his smile dropping. He didn’t look at Naim for the rest of the church meeting.
Church over, families milled around outside the grey building, chattering. Naim dug the toe of his shoe into the grass, wishing his mum would stop her conversation so they could go home. He wanted to smoke. He wanted to draw. Movement in the tree above him caught his eye. He watched a bird with silver, iridescent feathers settle on a branch, using its wings to steady itself. It used the rough bark to sharpen its beak then tilted its head down at him, examining Naim with one dark eye. Then it shuffled its feathers and launched off the branch, soaring on an air pocket. Naim watched it disappear from view. When he shifted his attention back down, a boy with blonde curls was in front of him. His heart jolted in surprise. Ryan gestured to a distant corner of the perimeter fence. Curious, Naim followed him. It was quieter there; less people nearby. Ryan glanced around then back at Naim. Strangely, he seemed almost nervous. He was doing everything to hide that fact though, leaning casually against the fence.
“So…” he began. Naim raised an eyebrow. “I’m Ryan.”
Naim couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I know.”
Ryan nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. Naim grinned at him. “I’m Naim. You wanna shake hands or…”
Catching Naim’s expression, Ryan shook his head, grinning. “Oh fuck off.”
“I’ve been here two months, you thought I wouldn’t know your name?”
“I didn’t wanna assume.”
“Hmm. Right.”
Ryan attempted to scowl at him but failed. He scratched the side of his nose. “I wanted to ask if you wanna hang out this Saturday?”
Naim felt his whole body flush in surprise. Ryan wanted to hang out with him? What did this mean?
“Just us?”
Ryan's mouth spread into a smirk. “Yeah Naim, just us.”
Naim’s skin heated up even more. “What time? Where?”
For some reason, Ryan’s smirk widened. “I’ll meet you out the front of your house around midday. How’s that sound?” His eyes glittered teasingly, like he’d picked up on something. “Need me to mark it in your calendar for you? Give you the exact time down to the second?”
Naim narrowed his eyes. “Funny.” There was nothing wrong with wanting to know the details of a plan before it happened. That was how Naim best prepared. Then, another thing from what Ryan had said struck him. “You know where I live?”
Ryan stepped away, eyes lingering on Naim’s mouth before moving back up to his eyes. “It’s a small town Naim, people talk.”
He shot Naim one last smile, then rejoined his family. Naim stood there, his mouth dry, heart hammering in his chest. He pulled at the collar of his shirt. Saturday. Saturday was probably a bad idea. A very bad idea. But when it came to Ryan, Naim was full of bad ideas.