Chapter Text

For fifteen minutes after the final bell of the day, Sherwin had huddled himself closely to the lone oak at the far left of the school garden, knees bunched to his chest, eyes glimmering. Here, shrouded by the foliage, the other students might mistake the silhouette of his auburn curls for simply another mid-Autumn shrub.

Shirley grinned up from his outstretched palm. He grinned back at her, thankful, and waited.

Apple in hand, Johnathan slipped through the doors. They had agreed to meet after the last bell, when all the other students had trickled out the front gates and were a safe enough distance away that they could walk home together. Standing in that orange glow just before twilight, Johnathan turned his head, searching.

The agreed-upon meeting point was the still-overturned rubbish bin at the base of the concrete steps. So why was Sherwin not there? He continued looking, noticing only the moss-laden water fountain to the right and a parade of auburn shrubbery to the left, near that ancient oak.

What had been a glowing warmth in his chest gave way to a cold, dull cramp. He withdrew a second apple from his pocket and pondered binning it. It had been a risky move taking this extra one at lunch. Best not to waste it.

Another five minutes passed and still Sherwin had yet to appear.

One of the shrubs made an unusual movement, unsynchronised with the rest in the light breeze. Shirley poked out, and he realised.

The warmth returned.

It bloomed, unmitigated adoration coursing through his veins and kicking the air from his lungs.

Sherwin leapt to his feet, drinking in the cool air faster than he could expel it. He knew he was blushing – knew that in approximately ten seconds he might either faint or die from anxiety – and now Johnathan was approaching with his stunning smile and – oh God – Shirley tugged hard on Sherwin’s finger and he and her were sailing over the garden – past the bushes and benches – thrice around a single lamppost – all as Johnathan came to a stop at the base of the steps, chuckling.

When at last Shirley released her grip, Sherwin found himself quite at odds. Though he desired nothing more than to spend at least three seconds losing himself in Johnathan’s glittering eyes, he could barely manage one before shrinking in upon himself. The resulting gulp when Johnathan took his hand felt like a shard of glass. That simple act was also the reassurance he needed to raise his head and offer Johnathan something resembling a smile – though he was certain it had been a grimace.

It was then that Johnathan took over, pacing carefully toward – and past – Sherwin, maintaining his delicate grasp, leading him out of the school grounds.

Sherwin cast one last glance back at the shuttered windows and chipped stone walls, wondering how in the world such an average day as this could have become so distinctly unusual so quickly.

Long, thin shadows inched across narrow streets as the sun transitioned across a cloudless sky, casting the world and all things beyond in a tender, rosy hue.

Johnathan was taking Sherwin in a direction he had never travelled before. Various awnings and ornately-decorated shop signs lined one side of the street they had turned onto, each advertising items for such a multitude of purposes that this could have easily doubled as a shopping mall. Only one shop was open now, and it was the one Johnathan appeared to be eyeing – an ice cream parlour. A service window was open, a girl leaning upon the sill with her chin resting on her palm.

Johnathan faced Sherwin, eyebrows relaxing ever-so-slightly, the corner of his mouth tweaked into the gentlest of expressions. His head tilted towards the ice cream parlour.

Sherwin gulped again.

Nodded.

An uncomfortable moisture had made itself quite at home between their clasped hands – a direct result of the sheer terror flooding Sherwin the moment he realised that the woman at the service window was an old family friend.

Before Johnathan had time to react, Sherwin had already unwound their hands and run pell-mell in the opposite direction, turned right and darted down a residential street.

It was only when his feet stopped slapping against tarmac and instead crunched atop loose gravel that Sherwin came back to his senses, pleading for someone, anyone, to exorcise the unbridled fear from his soul.

He swivelled in place, calibrating himself. He was in a children’s playground.

Breathing steadily, and silently berating himself for running off twice now, he perched himself on a swing, one hand on the chain, the other wiping away fresh tears.

The previous two months could barely be summed-up. “Whirlwind” would be far too inaccurate a description. “Typhoon” maybe. Or “Hurricane”.

It started with a smile thrown innocently across the classroom – one moment stolen from hundreds spent amongst textbooks and football and gossip of reality TV. One precious gesture shared between themselves that nobody else in the world would be privy to. Maybe today would lead to thousands more.

No, he decided.

Today would lead to thousands more.

With this newfound conviction, he sighed contentedly to himself and pushed into the backwards arc of the swing, allowing it to carry him on his own momentum. For a few minutes, he swayed like that. Though the tears in his eyes remained, he allowed himself a subtle smile.

A tanned hand stopped the swing shortly after.

Johnathan held a single ice cream cone as he took the adjacent swing. Sherwin could see even from this angle that Johnathan wore an expression of concern. He gave him a reassuring smile, taking his hand.

Relief replaced concern, and Johnathan sighed, shaking his head. In the same motion, he offered the ice cream cone to Sherwin – who, instead of taking it, licked it once and nodded back in his direction.

Johnathan pointed at himself with raised eyebrows.

Nod.

And for a considerable while they were as they were: holding hands, eating ice cream, swinging together – but most importantly, enjoying each other’s company.

Sherwin couldn’t help but steal glances at Johnathan once every so often, and Johnathan would do exactly the same at the exact same moment.

The sun finished its final transition of the day; a deep ink bled over the rosy tint in the sky, pinpricks of light peeping out from behind a veil of darkness, as that great burning orb submitted to the will of the day and slinked behind the horizon.

Street lights illuminated the world in its stead, one popping to life right above the boys’ heads as they left the playground behind. The rest came on ahead of them as if beckoning them home.

Moonlight peered through a light cover of cloud to bathe one half of Johnathan’s face in some angelic haze, as he and Sherwin rounded one final corner. Sherwin’s house blinked at the end of the street, the front door wide open and a dressing gown-clad figure waiting on the porch.

Shirley, who until now had settled back into Sherwin’s chest, shot into his throat. He braced himself, urging her – begging her – to calm down. In his panic, he had failed to notice the glow.

Johnathan placed his hand over Sherwin’s chest, soothing him. Bundled in his hand was a note, which he opened in front of Sherwin.

Boyfriends?

Sherwin nodded, and instinctively draped his arms around Johnathan’s neck.

It was only afterwards that he realised doing so would put them within less than an inch of each other. And now that’s exactly how they were, teetering on a moment in time unforgettable to both, and so deeply yearned-for. A moment which, when stolen, would be so unspeakably different to all the others they would ever share that the future was now an inevitability.

Johnathan’s eyes half-closed and his lips quirked into an adoring smile – the very same smile Sherwin had worn earlier that day whilst up in the tree.

Sherwin mirrored Johnathan’s expression, finally acknowledging his rightful place here, as Johnathan’s arms wound round his waist.

It had been a tiring day – an especially long afternoon – and the longest walk home of Sherwin’s life. But as they closed the gap between them, bringing their lips together at last, it had been worth every single moment.