"Kellin? Honey, I need you to come downstairs."


"Kellin? My new boyfriend and his son are here, sweetie, you need to get up and come meet them."

Great. Just fuckin' peachy.

Kellin Quinn pulls his face off of his pillow and kicks the blanket off of him. He lets out a massive groan before swinging his legs over the side of his bed, rubbing his face with his hands.

For the third time this month, Kellin's mom has a new boyfriend. For the third time this month, Kellin has to get out of bed to meet him. For the first time that month, possibly Kellin won't be alone in the torture that is meeting one of these assholes.

He doubts it greatly. In the past his mother had dated another guy with a son, and thank Jesus they broke up because that kid was a royal douchewad and Kellin seriously didn't want to have to endure another moment with that kid.

Kellin runs a hand through his hair and heaves another sigh. He looks around his room for a second, trying to locate a pair of pants. He stands up and kicks his dirty clothes around the room until he finds a pair of black skinny jeans that he deems semi-satisfactory and pulls them on. He runs a hand through his hair again, messing it up further and leaves his room, stumbling gracelessly down the staircase, attempting to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

The scene in front of him is typical: his mother is dressed to the nines, wearing the fanciest dress and jewelry combination she owns, hanging off the beefy arm of the man Kellin presumes is her new boyfriend.

He isn't that bad looking, but he definitely isn't something normal people would consider attractive either.

"So mom," Kellin asks, looking to press every button he can. "How much money does this guy's job pay? Must be a lot, considering he falls beneath your normal standards."

His mother's mouth falls open in shock, and the man tightens his grip around her waist.

"Funny," a voice pipes up from behind the couple, "That's what I said about your mom when I first heard about all this."

Kellin's mother and the man turn, revealing a boy about Kellin's age, slightly shorter, with short black hair and green eyes, and a piercing on both his nose and lip.

Kellin cracks a grin as he descends the rest of the staircase. "So you must be my mom's new boy-toy's extra baggage, huh?"

"Touché," The boy says with a grin as he extends his hand. Kellin grins right back at him and shakes his hand.

"Frank,” the boy says.


"Aw, isn't that sweet? Look honey, they're already getting along!" Kellin's mom says excitedly.

"It's more like a mutual agreement we won't kill each other. No promises about vomiting at the sight of you two though," Frank mutters. Kellin laughs, and Frank's father shoots them both a death glare, a chilled, reprimanding silence settling across the room, leaving Frank snickering under his father’s glare and Kellin’s mother shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

In the kitchen, the oven beeps, saving the room from the uncomfortable silence that no doubt would have lasted. "Lasagna's ready!" Kellin's mother says as she walks out of the room, her high heels click-clacking on the wooden floor. Frank's father walks quickly after her, probably oggling her ass in that dress.

Kellin and Frank just stand together for a minute in silence, a question bouncing around in Kellin’s mind. He doesn’t really want to ask, but he feels like he needs to know

."Does your dad jump from relationship to relationship often?" Kellin asks sheepishly, cheeks a little on the pinker side and eyes to the floor.

Frank nods. "New girl every other week."

Kellin shuffles his feet. "My mom's like that too, but with guys. So you're alone a lot too?"

"Yeah. I get up for school on my own, eat on my own, pay for all the bills on my own...... it's like I don't even have a parent half of the time," Frank says, running a hand though his hair. “And my mom is long gone. Out of the picture completely. I haven’t talked to her in....years.”

"I'm the same way. I’ve never met my biological father," Kellin says, looking up at Frank, who he sees has cracked a small grin.

"Well hey, you're not half bad, so maybe the next time you find yourself a little too alone I can come over and we can play video games or something," Frank says. He hopes Kellin will agree, because fuck, they’re living the same forever alone lifestyle and if there’s a way out of it Frank is on the fast track.

"Yeah, that'd be great," Kellin grins, elated to see his smile returned by Frank.

"Boys? Come on, the food is going to get cold!" Kellin's mother calls. The two boys share one last hopeful grin and begin their trek to the kitchen, each silently overjoyed at the possibility of a permanent companion for the first time in their lives.


The dinner, in short, was hell. Sure, the food was good, but the goo-goo eyes shared between Frank and Kellin's parents were disgusting, as well as the questions about the boys' school and friends and whether or not they had a girlfriend et cetera et cetera.

“So, Frank. Do you have a girlfriend?” Kellin’s mother asks, sipping idly from her wine glass.

"Actually," Frank says, scrunching up is face, "I'm gay."

"Oh," Kellin's mother says. "Well that's okay. Isn't it Kellin?"

"Of course it is. There's no reason it wouldn't be. I’m not very straight either, and you know that, mom," Kellin replies, flicking his glance momentarily at Frank, who has a small, appreciative smile tacked on to his face. Kellin suspects that before this information had not been received well.

Kellin’s mother stiffens and then relaxes, smiling. “Of course, honey. And I love you the way you are.”

Kellin decides then that he doesn’t care about things like Frank’s sexuality. Well, he does care, but not enough to let it dictate how his relationship with Frank will develop. Frank is there to take away Kellin's lonely, and Kellin is there to take away Frank's.


~Three weeks later~

"Dude," Kellin whispers, nudging a sleeping Frank lightly with his toe, "Dude, get up. We need to get to school."

Frank groans from beneath the pile of blankets on the floor. "Leave me here to die."

The boys and been switching back and forth between staying at the other's house, and Frank had opted to finally go to sleep at the luxurious hour of three mother fucking a.m. , knowing full well the pair had school in the morning.

"Frank, get your sorry ass up," Kellin grumbles.

Frank groans again, and slowly shifts the pile of blankets off of him. "Make me cereal bitch," he says while fighting with the zipper on his backpack to find his other shirt.

"Well we're on our period this morning huh?" Kellin says, teasing his obviously exhausted friend.

"I hate you so much. Can I use your shower?"

"No way. I don't want you getting period blood everywhere. There's a clean towel in the cabinet."

"Now go make me cereal you fucking whore."

This is how their relationship has evolved. Seemingly cruel taunts that are really nothing but caring. The two have become joined at the hip in no time flat, despite how rocky their parent's relationship is becoming. Whenever their parents talk, which is becoming less and less frequent, there’s more screaming than actual dialogue. And when there is dialogue, it’s about money, or drugs, or alcohol, or something else Kellin and Frank like to pretend their parents don’t do.

They don't care, really. All they can tell is that they aren't lonely. They aren't lonely, and the person that took away their lonely can tell how they’re feeling without them even having to vocalize it.

It feels amazing.

Frank locks the door to the bathroom and turns on the faucet. He peels off his shirt and pants, throwing them unceremoniously in the corner.

The water is warm and that seriously is the only thought in Frank's mind until Kellin screams at him through the door about using all the hot water and soggy cereal.

As soon as he’s dry and a clean t-shirt is administered (can't say the same for the jeans though, they aren't all that dirty anyway, who even cares) and his hair had been returned to its regular partially controlled state, Frank opens the door and walks downstairs.

"God, you are such a girl about getting ready! Oh look at me, I'm Frankeh, I gotta look pretty for all dem boys!" Kellin says in a high pitched voice, mocking Frank as soon as he is in sight.

"At least I don't spend fifteen billion years picking out an outfit."

"That's because you only own two pairs of jeans."


Kellin shakes his head. "Eat your goddamn mush. You took so long pretending to be a chick your cereal got soggy."

"Aw, thanks honey!" Frank jokes, pecking Kellin on the cheek.

"Ew gross! Ew ew ew! Now I have to burn this whole half of my beautiful face off! Thanks, Frank!"

"Welcome!" Frank shouts as Kellin disappears upstairs, the cries of 'ew' and 'gross' still echoing down the hall.

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