Page 75 of Small Sacrifices

Evidently suspicious, Everett squints at him, but seems to decide to let it go.

They're looking at each other again. Staring, really. It's interesting. Usually, having this amount of attention on him makes Reid supremely uncomfortable. But not now. His heart is beating quickly, and his palms are sweaty. But for maybe the first time in his life, this feels like a good thing.

When Everett's teeth dig into his lip again, Reid can't help but think back to the kiss in the parking lot. Disappointment tinges the realization that he can't even really remember what it felt like. Or—well. He remembers the feeling of dry lips on his. But it's overshadowed by surprise and indignation. Reid never got around to actuallyexperiencing it.

"Are we gonna try this, then?" Everett asks, ripping Reid out of his thoughts. His eyes are so bright and hopeful that it makes a shudder run down Reid's back.

It's almost scary how easy it is to nod. He doesn't think about it, he justwants.He wants so much. As much as it's unfamiliar territory, he hopes that's a good thing.

A brilliant smile spreads on Everett's face. He reaches out, but then snatches his hand back before he can touch Reid. "That's great! Can I just... ask a question about boundaries?"

"Sure." Reid is good with boundaries. And he's grateful that—this time—Everett is asking. He'd rather avoid another reaction like earlier.

"Right. So... when you said you didn't want me to touch you without consentorwarning. Can you tell me what you mean? I just wanna make sure I do this right."

Ah. Reid rubs his palms against the denim of his jeans. "Well, I'm not sure about asking every time. But make sure I know what you're doing. And give me the opportunity to say no. Maybe... maybe ask if it's something new."

He can't imagine much that he'd want to say no to. And he doesn't want to make a big thing of this. But he gets overwhelmed sometimes. Better safe than sorry.

Everett takes that in stride and just nods. "So earlier... the problem was just that I didn't ask?"

"Well..." Reid sighs. "That too. But I was already annoyed with you because of that text. You said we were friends, and then you said something like that. I get upset when things don't fit. And those two things definitely didn't fit."

"Right," Everett says. "Because things need to be clear for you. Can I just… I have another question. And I really don't want to upset you, but I think it might be important?"

Right. Reid takes a deep breath. That's not anxiety-inducing at all. Only good things have ever been said after such a preamble. "Go ahead."

"Are you autistic?"

It's so unexpectedly direct that Reid briefly chokes on air and starts coughing. When he finally answers, his voice is hoarse.

"I don't have a diagnosis." It's the rote response he and Briana came up with for situations like these—a non-answer, just as it is an attempt to buy time. He can see Everett getting ready to respond and dismiss it, pretend it was a silly question to ask. But honesty is the best foundation to build on, right?

So Reid clears his throat and continues. "But I think I might be. I fit a lot of the criteria. Social stuff is hard, and sometimes, I need things to be a certain way, or I get upset. I just… can't get diagnosed right now."

Not on his parents' dime, and certainly not on his own. Not that that seems to matter much to Everett, who just thinks briefly, then nods and smiles. "That makes sense. Do you need me to do anything differently?"

Oh. Tears sting in Reid's eyes. This is how easy it can be? No questions, no justifications? Even Briana had to be talked around until she believed him.

"Differently how?" he asks.

Everett shrugs. "Well, we've already talked about how you need direct communication. And you don't like it when people touch you or when you don't know what the plan is. I'll do my best to pay attention to all of that. Is there anything else that you'd want me to do so that things are easier for you?"

Reid's entire face feels hot. Even rapid blinking probably can't hide the wet sheen in his eyes. Internally, he curses. Why is he crying? He shouldn't be crying right now. Everett will think something is wrong. At his side, he touches the tips of his fingers to the pad of his thumb, one after the other.Pinky finger, ringfinger, middle finger, index finger. Index finger, middle finger, ring finger, pinky finger…

"No, that's fine. Just… listen to me. Like you're already doing. And don't assume I mean something different from what I'm actually, literally saying." That's how fights happen, Reid knows from experience. But they've done well so far. Even in response to that answer, Everett just nods seriously. Like it makes perfect sense to him. Reid hopes it does.

He wants to say something, to thank Everett for paying attention and being considerate. But when he opens his mouth, an enormous yawn overtakes him, stretching through his entire body, arching his neck and unfurling his arms. Everett's soft laugh cuts through the moment.

"Tired?" he asks, his voice gentle. Reid nods blearily, and Everett slaps his thighs with a resigned chuckle. "Well, then. I should probably head out."

Reid wants to protest. But he knows himself well enough to know he'll shut down if they continue this for too much longer. He's already starting to feel sluggish. If they're going to do this, and if Everett is offering to leave of his own volition, they may as well start this off on the right foot.

With a mumbled confirmation, he struggles to his feet after Everett, who’s already putting on his coat. They come to an awkward halt at the door. Reid doesn't know the protocol for these types of situations, so he's dithering. Everett isn't doing much better, fidgeting with his zipper, eyes jumping from Reid's eyes to his lips to the doorknob. It's relieving to see him this unsure.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

Everett's eyes lock onto his face. "Can I hug you?"

---