It had been a couple of weeks since their first rehearsal and Matthew felt like he was finally getting the hang of the whole theater thing. He could recite his lines with much more ease than before and interact with his fellow club members a lot better. Though, reciting the skit along with the performance was a whole new challenge. Any time he would get close to Gilbert, his nerves would go haywire, his brain would turn to mush and his words would spill out onto the floor in front of him. No matter how hard he tried, he still kept tripping over himself and having to redo the entire scene, starting the cycle all over again. Reading through the script made Matthew realize just exactly how many kissing scenes there were in the play. There was a total of four individual occasions where Matthew would have to kiss Gilbert in front of their entire school. How did he even get into this mess?

There were also a lot more intimate scenes than Matthew had anticipated. Since the director wanted to stay true to the original script but still wanted a bit of a modern flair, he had heavily based their own adaptation on the 1968 film. That particular version depicted the couple as very close with each other from the start, and that worried Matthew to death. As the script became more and more set in stone, the director was now adding body language to accompany the dialogue, which meant more touching Gilbert in ways he normally never would and vice versa. He couldn't complain that he was uncomfortable, it was the fact that he was any but that made it unsettling. Usually, Matthew would not allow strangers, or even friends, to casually touch him like that. Though, Gilbert had a strange exception, and he was beginning to wonder if it wasn't just because they were in the play together. But he didn't like to think of that possibility.

On another note, Matthew did make some progress with Gilbert and his 'shell', as Francis had put it. He had been getting rides home with him after every practice and even got his phone number from Francis and Antonio. Unfortunately, Matt had worked up the courage to message him, but got no reply every time. It was disheartening to say in the least, but Matt tried his best to brush it off. In his short time with Gil, Matt concluded that he was a pretty good kid, despite his rough edges and bad habits, that the worse he had seen him do so far was smoke in the car on the way home from rehearsals. Matthew honestly could not decipher fact from fiction when it came to Gilbert and what he had heard about him.

Matthew felt as if he could comfortably call himself and Gilbert friends at this point. Gil was really the only person that he knew in the club beyond his name and could actually talk about shared interests with. Though, he was still an enigma to Matt, as he still did not know much about the older teen. He still really wanted to know what he was like, what more of his interests were beyond his favorite music. Only time would tell if he were to eventually know those things, but he was grateful for every day that he could spend with him.

After rehearsal, Matthew excitedly retrieved his backpack from the auditorium seat, Gilbert grabbing his bag and a leather jacket in the adjacent seat. The pair set out for the school parking lot, mulling over how practice went that day while the older teen pulled on his coat as he listened attentively. Matthew felt presumptuous, knowing that cold weather was soon approaching and that probably being the reason why Gilbert suddenly started to wear a jacket. There was no way the rebel was trying to impress someone like Matt. Though, it didn't bother him because he didn't want to be impressed, or did he? Sometimes Matt felt so astonished by his brain and what it came up with and assumed.

With his car keys in hand, Gil stretched his arm out to unlock the vehicle and Matthew boarded in the newly cleaned passenger side. He turned on the radio and the homemade CD began to play so that they could start their journey home. "So," Matthew quietly started their conversation. "What do you think of theater so far?"

Fumbling with his cigarette and lighter, Gil took a drag and answered on his exhale, "I like it, it's really interesting. There are lot of new people I never thought I'd get the chance to meet, otherwise."

"Like the people that you don't have classes with?" Matthew inquired.

"I was thinking the people like you," Gil smirked, flicking his cigarette ash out of the cracked window.

Matt tried his best to not let that comment get to him, so he tripped over his words as he appreciated, "Thanks, I guess?"

Gilbert smiled and moved his hand upon the gear shift as he made a wide turn. The silence began between the two once again, but it was never uncomfortable or awkward. It was odd, for Matthew to not feel uncomfortable or awkward for once in his life. It was… nice? He still was not exactly sure how to feel around Gilbert, especially now that he found himself alone with him more times often than not.

Gilbert cleared his throat, flipping his cigarette end out of the window as he asked, "Hey, Mattie. Do you have that English homework from last week?"

Startled by the casual use of the nickname, Matthew stammered as he replied, "Uh, I think so. It's the one that's due tomorrow, right?"

Gil shook his head as he gently pressed the brake for the upcoming stop light. He glimpsed at the passenger, his expression solemn and his eyes bright as he spoke up, "Would you be willing to help me on it?"

"Definitely, Gilbert!" Matthew accepted. "When would you like to do it?"

"Do you mind if we went to my house now and worked on it for a little while?" he proposed, his posture slowly diminishing. "I'll still give you a ride home afterwards, of course."

Matt grinned from ear to ear as he accepted the invitation, "I'd love to."

Soon enough, the boys pulled into the gates of a suburban development. Every house looked mildly similar; they all had the same white picket coziness to them, all varying in slightly different shades of beige or gray. Gil pulled into the driveway of a home with a German flag flying on the front porch and parked in the garage. With few words spoken, the boys unboarded the vehicle and began their way inside.

Matthew gawked at his surroundings, suddenly surprised at a strange find; a motorcycle, glossy and pitch black in pigment sat beside the family van with its accessories and tools all over the garage. He pondered who could possibly own the bike. Perhaps it was Gilbert's, but that did not explain why he would chose the subpar vehicle he drove to school everyday if he had a motorcycle. Could Gilbert's younger brother possibly own it? It seemed likely for both cases, as Matt did not know who his brother was neither the type of person he was.

They approached the door to the house and as Gilbert put his hand on the knob, he stopped and casually turned his head, looking at Matthew with solace as he invited, "Follow me."

Matthew shook his head and as the older of the two opened the door, he was in complete shock and awe. He did not know exactly what to expect when Gilbert had asked him to stay over, but he was still impressed nonetheless. The home radiated middle class suburbia, yet it retained a homey atmosphere. There were candles lit in every room, filling the air with the true scent of home, which he had thought he knew smelled like until he walked into the Beilschmidt household. Unlike Matthew's home, it looked like people actually lived there, as it was orderly yet perfectly disarray. Matthew worked up the courage to compliment, "Your home looks really nice."

"Why thank you!" a middle aged woman emerged from a room off from the kitchen. Matthew jumped at the sound of her voice, and she chuckled like someone else he knew. She held out her hand and introduced herself, "Sorry to intrude. I'm Ms. Beilschmidt, or you can call me Maria."

Matthew took her hand and nearly got it crushed from her determined grip. The more he looked at her, the more he could definitely conclude that Gilbert was his mother's son. The two had the same unique eye color, and though Ms. Beilschmidt's blonde hair was a shade or two darker than her son's, it was apparent where Gilbert inherited it from. Everything down to even their blunt mannerisms were nearly identical, and Matthew could only imagine how much more they would be alike if Gilbert were her daughter.

"It's nice to meet you" Gilbert's mother spoke up, pulling Matthew out of cloud nine. He clasped his hand in hers and she gave the same toothy smile he had seen Gilbert crack before, continuing her praise, "I can't tell you how refreshing it is to see Gilbert bring home a nice young lady for once! Let me tell you about that one girl he had for a while, oh my goodness! I still get the chills just thinking about her!"

She waved her hands and rolled her eyes dramatically as she dismissed her son's ex lover. She ever so slightly leaned in closer to Matthew and whispered, "You're a total upgrade if you ask me, sweetie!"

"Mother!" Gil nearly snapped his neck to look at her, his cheeks rose tinted. "He is not my girlfriend!"

Maria parted her lips and finally freed her guest's hand, gasping as she expressed, "Oh, my apologies! I didn't mean to make assumptions!"

Matthew slumped his shoulders and twitched his brow as he announced, "My name is Matthew, and I'm a boy. And I'm also not dating your son."

"Well," she shrugged her shoulders, "can't blame me for trying, can you?"

Gilbert seemed to be completely red as he rolled his eyes and pulled on Matthew's hoodie sleeve, beckoning, "Come on, Mattie."

The teen began to drag his newfound friend up the staircase when Ms. Beilschmidt followed them to the bottom of the banister and called, "Oh, Gillie! I forgot to tell you that I went grocery shopping today! Please take some breaks and have yourselves some snacks later, okay? "

"Thank you, mother," Gil dismissed in a low growl, still leading Matthew up the hardwood staircase.

He followed and gazed at the downstairs as he made his way, chuckling at the pet name Ms. Beilschmidt had given her son and how he was going to try to use it, as well. Matthew let out a short giggle as he complimented, "Your mom is really nice."

Gil respired and glanced back for a moment to respond, "She just likes to tease me sometimes. It annoys the shit out of me, but I wouldn't have it any other way, I suppose."

As they approached the top, Matthew felt a disturbance in the once comfortable ambience, as the floors seemed to shake from underneath him. Then a trio of huge, dark coated canines ran toward them at full speed, barking at the supposed intruder in their home. Matthew let out a short cry and reached for the back of Gilbert's shirt for safety. He peered over his shoulder and whined, "Gil! What are those?"

"These are the family dogs," he introduced with a newfound calmness. Patting them on their backs, starting with the smallest he acquainted, "Matthew, meet Eldwin, Dieter, and Eberhard." He leaned down to ruffle up their fur and hummed, "These boys are my babies, I love them more than life itself."

Although Gilbert petting the dogs was a tender sight to see, Matthew was not partaking in the affection. He remained behind his friend as he observed the dogs interact with him. It was sort of endearing to see the monster that everyone claimed that Gilbert to be playing with his pets. Though, that did not settle Matt's nerves about the hounds or what they were capable of, going off of his lack of interactions with dogs. Gil must have noticed his friend's anxiety and eventually moved from in front of the teen to his side to console him.

"Hey, these guys are nothing to be afraid of!" Gilbert pat Matthew on the back, he flinched on impact. He squinted his almost ruby colored eyes and inquired, "They aren't, are they?"

Matthew hid his knuckles in his sweatshirt sleeves as he shook in his Converse sneakers, "I-I've never seen a dog this up close before."

Gil raised a brow at the odd statement, and then it appeared that something clicked in his mind as he reassured, "Oh, I'm sorry! Please excuse me for a moment while I take them downstairs."

Lifting his fingers to his mouth, Gilbert whistled for the two canines' attention. He lead the way back down the staircase, the sound of nails clicking on the hardwood being almost as loud as the slew of German words between mother and son in the distance below. Matthew was by himself in the strange home, which was somehow more nerve wracking than it should have been being in said strange home with the strange boy who lived there. Soon enough, Gil came racing up the stairs and began to apologize again.

"I'm so sorry," he expressed deeply, eyebrows raised. "I didn't know you were afraid of dogs."

"It's alright, Gil," Matthew convinced as he looked down into his eyes for a split second. He turned his head the other way and gave an anxious chuckle, "They just frightened me, is all."

Gilbert grunted as he shook his head, and they went back on their way. When he opened the bedroom door, Matthew was surprisingly impressed at the older teen's room. There were posters adorning every clean inch of the walls, most of them music or religious propaganda, which Matthew thought to be a rather strange variant. His bed, residing by the middle of the wall, was comfortably messy, the black sheets and comforter looked lived in but not worn out.

The nightstand beside the mattress was cluttered with very few things; Matt spotted a digital alarm clock, a small notebook and pencil, an asthma inhaler, and a glasses case. Matthew pondered about if Gilbert actually wore glasses and what he would look like if he did. He shook his head and continued to look around the room. There was a bookshelf loaded with titles in a language Matthew did not understand, more than likely from the owner's homeland. His desk was covered in papers and school supplies, contrary to the popular belief that Gilbert Beilschmidt did not study. Random clothes were strewn across the floor, their owner noticed them as well and excused himself to pick them up.

"I apologize for how messy my bedroom is," Gil pardoned, throwing the articles of clothing into an obscure pile in the hamper just a few feet away. Matthew took the extra time to have another look around the room, and he noticed the built in closet on the opposite side of the room was slightly open.

The clothes were hung up in an orderly fashion, though not a single article was colorful. Matt already noticed that Gilbert liked to stay on the darker end of the spectrum when it came to apparel, but he did not know that was literally all he wore. Underneath the rack were a couple pairs of shoes; some formal loafers and a pair high tops much like Matthew's, both black in color. Hidden away in an obscure corner of the closet were what Matthew assumed to be instrument cases, but he was not entirely certain nor did he want to push his recently discovered boundaries with the teen. Those were questions to ask another day when they were more comfortable with one another.

When he tidied up the room as he saw fit, Gilbert stripped from his leather jacket and hung it up on the coat rack by the entrance of the room. As he sat on the floor to take off his boots, he encouraged the other boy to do the same. Keeping his hoodie on, Matthew kicked off his sneakers at the door and set his backpack by the end of the bed, starting to open it up. Gilbert plucked his brow and stared as he pressed his lips into a line, grunting when he stood up and grabbed Matthew's shoes. He turned back around and set the pair neatly by his own, Matthew gasped silently and tried to apologize.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" he looked up from where he was now seated on the floor. "I didn't know you wanted them there."

"It's alright, I'm just a clean freak sometimes," he excused with a soft chuckle, walking over to set his bag beside his desk. Gilbert situated himself in the chair as he grabbed a pencil and sewed his brow, beginning to concentrate on his work. Matthew leaned his back on the side of the boy's bed and fidgeted with his school supplies, unsure if he was crossing a line. Then, as if he had read his mind, Gil spoke up, "You can work on my bed if it's more comfortable for you than the floor."

Matthew raised his brows as he muttered a hush thank you. He crawled to the middle of the bed and situated himself on his stomach as he opened his laptop to start on his work. For a little while it was quiet, with Gilbert asking questions about the assignments on occasion, but nothing too substantial. Then as the atmosphere became more cozy, the boys spoke up about more personal topics like rehearsal and random school gossip. During an intermission of conversation, Gilbert spoke up with a more serious tone of voice, "Hey, Mattie, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah sure, Gil," Matthew looked over at him from his laptop screen and perked his head up, kicking his feet ever so slightly.

Gilbert seemed to be at some kind of internal odds with himself, something that Matthew noticed more prominent in him the more they spent time together. His brows drew together as he pursed his lips, holding his chin in his palm as he murmured to himself. After much self reflection, he asked, "Is it weird if I give you something?"

He tilted his head slightly and queried, "Like what? A gift?"

Gil's chuckle was raspy and deep as he joked, "Well, it would be a pretty shitty gift if it were one."

Matthew kicked his feet over the edge of the bed and sat up again, his lips pressed to an askew line as he raised an eyebrow. Gil got up from his desk and reached over to the nightstand by the bed and swiped an object from it. His hand outstretched, he handed the item over to Matthew and explained, "This is my inhaler, I want you to have it."

Matt gently took the inhaler in his own hands and studied it for a moment now that he had a closer look at it. It was cerulean in color, the mouthpiece dark blue to differentiate it, and a can of inhalation spray inserted at the top. He glanced up at the white haired boy who had gifted it to him and asked, "Don't you need this?"

He made a 'pssh' sound with his mouth and swatted his hand, "I have more of those than I know what to do with."

"Then," Matt met his eyes once again in a slow gaze, "why are you giving this to me?"

Gil rubbed the back of his neck as he quizzed, "We're friends now, are we not?"

"Yeah," the blond responded with great relief as he looked back at the medication, finally knowing the true status of the pair. "We're friends."

"I just want you have this in case of emergency," Gil revealed, pointing back at the inhaler. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, definitely," he agreed, clutching the medication closer to his chest. He stowed it away in his pocket and Gil gave what appeared to be a smidgen of a smile. It felt nice; like he had broke down a wall within the boy, making their connection stronger.

Time seemed to go by briskly yet gradual at the same time. Though, the time where the boys would finish their work came and so did the car ride home. The Fall Out Boy CD continued to play, as if Gilbert didn't listen to anything else now that he had met the other fan. With the vocals of Patrick Stump playing in the background, it gave Matthew optimal time to reflect on his night with Gilbert.

He was ecstatic that they could comfortably call each other friends now, and wondered what their relationship would lead them. Would Gilbert be a friend he could rely on for anything, and confide in him things that only he would ever know? Or perhaps was it just another traditional high school friendship, where their bond would fade over time after graduation? Matthew glanced over at the driver and observed how he scrunched his face as he took a drag of his cigarette. The younger teen rubbed the inhaler in his jacket pocket, as if to remind himself that he actually owned it, and smirked at the irony that Gilbert was an asthmatic smoker. He returned his eyes to the road and pondered if he would ever quit smoking, but that day would probably never come, hopefully like the end of their friendship.

Gilbert returned home from dropping Matthew off and sighed deeply as he threw his jacket on the floor of his bedroom. As he went to lay down, he stared at the coat as an itching feeling arose, and he eventually got up to hang it up where it belonged. If Matthew was going to keep coming over, there was no way Gilbert was going to show him a room as messy as it had been today. After correcting the situation, he flopped onto his bed and pulled his cell phone out to message his friends and inform them on how his night went.

Gilbert:

Hey guys, so rehearsal went pretty well today. Matthew and I talked about a lot of interesting things and he's pretty cool.

Antonio:

That's great! What did you two talk about?

Gilbert:

Mostly music and theater. It was really awesome, he's a nice friend.

Antonio:

That's nice Gil! I'm so glad you're putting yourself out there and making new friends!

Gil exited the messaging app for a bit to scroll on social media and brainstorm of a response to Antonio. After a little while, his phone buzzed to notify him of a new message in the group chat, but it wasn't from his Spanish friend this time.

Francis:

Sorry for interrupting the celebration, but does anyone have that English homework for tomorrow? I can't even find an answer key anywhere online :(

Gilbert:

Yeah, which questions do you need?

Francis:

Wait, since when do you have homework done early? Especially English homework?

Gilbert:

Mattie helped me.

Antonio:

Wait, I thought you two had drama rehearsal today? When did you have the time to finish it?

Gilbert:

He stayed over after school to help me on it.

Francis:

Like, he stayed at your place? Matthew Williams? At your house? In your room? To do homework together?

Gilbert:

Yeah? What are you two getting on about?

Antonio:

You think you could have included your date when I asked how your day went?!

Gilbert:

Shut up, Tony, it wasn't a date.

Francis:

I can't believe this! Matthew and Gilbert! Getting along! Having fun!

Antonio:

And making out probably.

Gilbert:

Shut the fuck up Antonio, I swear to God.

Francis:

Let's get back to the fact that you're having friends over that aren't Antonio and I! I'm so proud of you, Gil!

Gilbert:

Uh, thanks, I guess?

Antonio:

Well, spill it! How did it go with Matthew?

Gilbert:

I think I scared him off, to be honest. Not sure if he will ever want to come over again.

Antonio:

Scared him off? What do you mean? What happened? What did you do?

Gilbert:

I didn't do anything, asshole.

Gilbert:

When we were going into my bedroom, the dogs came out from nowhere and scared the shit out of him. I don't think he's ever seen a dog before, or if he has, he doesn't remember anymore.

Francis:

So you know about his amnesia?

Gilbert:

Yeah, he told me a while ago. You guys know too?

Antonio:

We used to go to school with him! We were good friends up until the accident, then he didn't remember us anymore. We gave him some space and hoped that one day he would come back to us.

Francis:

And you were what brought him back, Gil!

Gilbert:

What are you talking about?

Francis:

When you guys auditioned for the play he messaged us wanting to know more about you because we're mutual friends of yours.

Antonio:

That's funny how things work out, isn't it?

Gilbert set his phone down for a moment as he pondered about their conversation. So Matthew not only knew his best friends, but he messaged them to ask about him? His face felt hot as he tried to shake the creeping feeling in his stomach, calling it flattery for lack of a better word.

Gilbert:

Wait so you mean to tell me that you guys knew him all this time? And I was freaking out, thinking he was some stranger over nothing?

Antonio:

Yeah, I guess? You didn't ask us about him, though! So we figured you already knew him!

Francis:

Okay so time for the real question; this means you got his number, right Gil?

Gilbert:

No? Was I supposed to?

Antonio:

Oh my God, we know you like him! Just get his number and talk to him already!

Gilbert:

I don't like him! I don't know why you guys keep insisting that I'm gay!

Francis:

We weren't, that's your own guilty conscious.

Antonio:

More like gay conscious.

Gilbert:

I hate the both of you.

Francis:

So you're telling me that you don't have Matthew's number? Like, he hasn't messaged you or anything?

Gilbert:

No, nothing at all.

Francis:

Oh my God! You better ask tomorrow! How do you even call yourselves friends if you don't even talk outside of school?

Antonio:

Gil, I can't believe you! Matthew is, like, the nicest person you'll probably ever know!

Gilbert:

Yeah, and I can't believe you guys didn't tell me that you knew the Juliet to my Romeo, but here we are.

Francis:

Your attitude aside, get Matthew's phone number tomorrow! We can't keep doing everything for you!

Gilbert:

I wasn't asking you guys to get his number for me!

Antonio:

Then what? Were you just going to wait around until you guys have been married for forty years and ask, 'oh hey, I've been meaning to ask for your phone number since we were in high school, can I get that?'

Gilbert:

Alright I don't know where you guys got the idea that I like him, but get it out of your heads right now.

Antonio:

It's a joke, man! Learn to take one!

Francis:

Unless… you're afraid it's true? ;)

Gilbert:

Fuck you guys.

Francis:

I knew you two had something going on!

Gilbert:

Francis I swear to God.

Antonio:

Oh shit, I have to go! Love you guys! Make sure to get Matthew's number tomorrow, Gilbert!

Francis:

Love you, Tony!

Gilbert:

I still feel indifferent toward the both of you right now.

Gilbert tossed his phone to the other side of the bed and stared up at the posters hanging up on the ceiling. He took a few deep breaths and reflected on what happened earlier. For as much as he wanted to disagree with them, Francis and Antonio were right; it was strange for someone he barely knew to be in his house, especially his bedroom no less. Even his late night escapades from his teenage years were always set in the other party's bedroom, that was how private Gil was. There was just something about Matthew that was anything but strange, like he knew him from another obscure time in his life. Normally, he would have been more careful with his words, but his situation with Matthew was anything but normal. He caught himself opening up and talking the more he spent time with the boy.

Every time they were together, something occurred in his head that snipped free all of the knots in his stomach and allowed him to be more carefree, as if those awful things that had happened to him were bygones and he could finally have the chance to be normal. With any new relationship, though, there was still that fear he had set aside to the back burner; the fear that Matthew was going to leave him, or that Matthew would soon grow tired of him and leave him once Gilbert became so dependent that he could not live without him. Those irrational fears originating from old survival instincts would always be there, and someone as seemingly kind and patient as Matthew Williams was no exception to them.

His cell phone went off, pulling him out of his daydream state, and he rolled over to read the new message. It was a text from Francis in their private messaging thread. He clicked it and instantly regretted ever being born.

Francis:

So, we're 'Mattie' now, are we? ;)

Gil huffed and turned on his side, gathering up most of the blankets to bury his burning face in them. Though, there was a scent foreign to his own that overpowered his senses, and he kicked the covers off as soon as he figured out who the strange and sweet aroma belonged to. Out of frustration and confusion, Gilbert slept without the blankets on for the rest of the night, the pre-autumn air nipping at him during the evening as his consequence.

Matthew waved his goodbyes as Gilbert drove off from the Williams-Jones household. He hummed as he practically skipped into the house and up into his bedroom. Setting his backpack down, he carefully took out the inhaler Gilbert had given him and placed it on his night side table for future reference. Matt slipped out of his shoes and sprawled out across the mattress, taking out his cell phone and clicking open the messaging app. There were about a dozen pre existing messages waiting for him to read, his heart jumped a little as his mind wandered to terrible things that could have happened. Though, his heart only beat more as he actually read the texts.

Francis:

Hey, Mattie! Would you by chance have the English homework for tomorrow? Thank you in advance, love!

Francis:

Nevermind, Gilbert said he would help me with it. But I'm probably still going to need a copy of your paper, just in case.

Francis:

Wait a second he actually has it finished and correct.

Francis:

Hold on, you helped him with it? When did this happen?

Francis:

You were at his house?! Matthew! What's going on?!

Francis:

Gilbert let you in his house?! And in his bedroom, too?! I can't believe what I'm hearing!

Matthew took a deep breath as he attempted to prepare himself the best he could for his overly exaggerated friend and his reactions.

Matthew:

Yeah, he invited me over to do homework. What's the big deal?

Francis:

The big deal is that Gil is such a shut in! He doesn't invite anyone but Antonio or me over!

Matthew:

Oh, well I guess I can kind of see how that would be a little strange.

Francis:

You have to tell me everything that happened today! I tried asking Gil but he wouldn't give in.

Matthew:

I still don't see what's interesting but okay.

Matthew:

After rehearsal, Gil invited me over to help him with the English assignment. So, I went over to his house to do homework.

Francis:

And then what?

Matthew:

And then he drove me home.

Francis:

Nothing else happened? Nothing more?

Matthew:

I don't know if you're insinuating if Gilbert and I had sex or not, but no we didn't.

Francis:

Okay, maybe I was a little. But can you blame me?

Matthew:

Yes, yes I can.

Matthew:

Is this why you've been acting weird lately? Do you honestly think there's something more than friendship going on between him and I?

Francis:

I mean, do I think that you and Gilbert are having sex? Not entirely. But do I think that you do things to him that only you can? Absolutely.

The soft blond squinted at the screen and blinked as he read what he had thought he read. Matthew did things to Gilbert? And things only he could do? Sometimes he wish he knew what Francis was talking about at least half of the time.

Matthew:

What do you even mean by that?

Francis:

What I mean by that is you're a strangely good influence on Gilbert. And although I have my theories as to why, I still have no clue why it's you that can do those things.

Matthew:

And what are those things? I have absolutely no clue what you're talking about.

Francis:

Mattie, you got that boy to do his homework. And, like, help other people with their homework. And just be more involved in his academics. And actually give a shit about something for once that isn't alcohol or music.

Matthew:

Yeah? So?

Francis:

So? So that's amazing! That's so!

Matthew:

I think you're over exaggerating a little here. What's so good about him doing homework? Isn't that what he's supposed to be doing?

Francis:

Yes, but let's not forget how he's almost 20 and hasn't graduated yet. What I'm saying is that I'm stumped. I'm stumped that for years Antonio and I have tried to get him through high school, but even though we've been friends for a long time, he just didn't want to listen to us. What I'm stumped about is why it's you.

Matthew:

Me? Fran, can you please be a little less philosophical and talk like a normal person?

Francis:

Like, what's so different about you that makes him listen to you? What's so different about you that makes him act so different when you're around?

Matthew couldn't help the heat from creeping to his face as he read Francis' response. Of course he was joking, wasn't he? Gilbert was no different than he was the few weeks prior to when they met, was he? At a loss for words, Matt responded with what thoughts he could muster at the moment.

Matthew:

There is nothing different about me, I'm just another friend of his. Maybe he's just growing up? That makes sense, right?

Francis:

I suppose it does.

Francis:

Look, I don't mean to scare you or accuse you of anything, Mattie. I'm speaking as Gilbert's friend right now, and I see something in him that I didn't see before he met you. I love you as much as I love Gilbert, but coming from someone who loves Gilbert like I do, I'm asking you to just be careful, okay?

Matthew:

Be careful? How? What does that mean?

Francis:

Gilbert is my dear friend, and you can probably tell why by now. He doesn't look like it, but he's a very sensitive person. He's so very fragile that he won't tell you that his feelings are hurt, even if it's painfully obvious. But in the same vein, he's a very straightforward and hurtful person because of the pain he's trying to cover up.

Francis:

Gilbert will never try to hurt you intentionally, but there's something deeply rooted in his behavior that makes him do so anyway. I've always believed it to be a defense mechanism, but I'm not sure where it came from. All I'm saying is to be careful with him and he'll be careful with you.

Matthew pondered all night what Francis could possibly mean. Since when did Matthew get special treatment from Gilbert? He liked all of his friends equally, didn't he? And what was it about him that made the older boy listen to him? Matthew had concluded that the rumors about him were just exaggerated, but apparently everyone and their mother could see something in Gilbert that they hadn't seen until now.

Francis' last text messages played like a broken record in Matt's head for the remainder of the night. What pain had Gilbert been through that lead him to have the reputation he had? Matthew was not surprised to hear that Gil went through something traumatic that compromised his maturity and better judgement, but that didn't mean he necessarily wanted to hear it. Something lit a fire in him when he thought of Gilbert being hurt or mistreated, and no matter how hard he search within himself, Matthew couldn't figure out why.

As the next period bell rang, Matthew packed up this things and walked toward his English class as he tried to prepare himself for his classmates obnoxious antics. Or just mostly Gilbert's. Sure, they were friends now and he could see the teen's reasoning behind his thinking, but the execution was less than desirable. Friends could be annoyed with each other, right? He sighed as he entered the classroom, the late bell tailing right behind him. As the blond approached his seat, he was startled as he felt another presence by him, and a familiar one at that.

Matthew looked up from his shoes to see Gilbert seated in the usually empty desk by his, school things out and working hard on class assignments. He blinked, unsure of what to even do. The pair mostly spent time together during rehearsal, and the one time that they hung out outside of school was at the older boy's house, and that did not make the situation any less awkward. It wasn't like Matthew didn't enjoy his company, because he did. A lot. He just wasn't sure how to interact with him when he wasn't Romeo, because Gilbert as Gilbert was a whole different concept to grasp.

Matt took his seat as Gilbert moved his eyes from his work to his peer, cooly introducing, "Hey, Mattie."

"Hi!" Matthew began with a little more enthusiasm than he had planned, his heart stammering for some unknown reason, perhaps embarrassment. He softly cleared his throat and started over, "I mean, hey."

Gilbert cut his eyes at him and gave a brief chuckle as he turned back to his classwork, a smirk growing on his face as he did so. Matthew mentally smacked himself for his awkwardness and decided to just focus on his school responsibilities. He pulled out his papers started working diligently, but could not entirely focus. All he could think about was how stupid he felt about how Gilbert must have thought about him. The boy didn't even text him back for crying out loud! Of course he didn't like him, he just had to deal with him for drama rehearsals and got to get the English homework out of him. Even though Gilbert had explicitly stated that he considered him his friend and even gave him an extra inhaler for emergencies, implying his intention of wanting to hang out more, Matthew's anxiety always spoke louder than his common sense did.

Matthew gave it his best shot at calming his nerves, but to no avail. Instead, he decided that he was going to straight up ask Gilbert why he had been ignoring his messages and what exactly he wanted from him, simple as that! He cleared his throat softly and turned his upper body slightly in the older boy's direction as he asked, "Hey, Gil, do you—"

"Do you have a phone number?" Gilbert asked in synch to Matthew's question, his mouth askew and tone wavering. His shoulders were tense and his grip on his pencil was so tight his knuckles were turning white, his own anxieties clearly getting to him, as well.

Relieved, Matthew gave a short nod and smiled, "Yeah, I do." He tucked a loose strand of his curly blond locks behind his ear. "I was actually going to ask the same thing."

"Oh, that's awesome," Gilbert exhaled deeply, his lips shaking around his teeth as he tentatively cracked a smile.

"Actually," Matthew fixated his eyes anywhere in the room besides the white haired boy. "Francis and Antonio gave me a number that they said was yours, but I think it was the wrong one?"

Gilbert pursed his lips, which Matthew stared at for longer than he'd ever admit, and confessed, "Perhaps that was the number to my other phone that they gave you."

"You have a second phone?" Matt made conversation, still cautious about how deep he would tread in the rebel's business.

The platinum blond bit his cheek and nodded his head, further explaining, "It was an old phone that my father gave me when I used to live in Germany. I recently activated a backup phone with a new number though, so I'm not even on that plan anymore."

Matthew tilted his head and knitted his brows as the explanation raised more questions than it answered. He tried to recall if he had seen Mr. Beilschmidt around the house when he was over, but concluded that perhaps he was at work, or he was in a room that Matthew was not introduced to. It didn't answer as to why he wouldn't pay for his high school student's phone bill, but he decided that he wouldn't delve any further.

Gilbert started digging through his school things and produced a pen, yet he was still looking for something else. He sighed out of frustration and, much to his surprise, quickly took Matthew's hand in his own. Matt gasped quietly as Gil clicked his pen and scribbled down his digits on the back of his smooth skin. Throwing the writing utensil back in its original place, he declared, "There, now you have my new one. Sorry about that."

Matthew looked down at the back of his hand, the German's surprisingly smooth lettering that was now a part of his skin for the next couple hours. Without much thought, Matthew blurted out the first thing that was on his mind, "You have nice handwriting."

Gilbert's face seemed to have flushed every shade of crimson there was as he acknowledged, "Thanks, no one has ever told me that before."

"Oh, I'm sorry if that sounded weird!" he apologized. "I've just never seen handwriting anything like yours before!"

"No, it's totally alright! Thank you, for that," Gilbert struggled to accept the compliment as he rubbed the back of his neck and averted his attention elsewhere.

Matthew sat for a moment and shook his head as soon as he had the realization, "Oh! I guess you want my number too, don't you?"

The boy didn't let him even answer the question as he pulled out a marker of his own and grasped his hand. Matt felt how rough his friend's palms were, like he was a hardworking adult of some sort, and not a regular high school student. He hastily wrote down his own phone number and settled to make a risky move by drawing a few hearts at the end of his digits. He put his pen away and waited for his inevitable reaction.

Gilbert took back his hand and examined his appendage, smirking and silently chuckling to himself. He smiled, complimenting, "I like your handwriting, too."

Matthew's heart skipped a beat or two as he thanked him, trying to return to his classwork, but to no avail. It seemed like forever yet only a moment until it was time for drama rehearsal. When the final bell rang, Matthew packed up his things and waited for his partner to collect himself. The pair braved the hallways and in an attempt to make small talk, Matthew inquired, "How did you learn to do cursive so well?"

Gil pressed his lips together in a hard line as he glanced the other direction, rubbing his upper arm and answering, "It was required at the school I used to go to."

"Oh," Matthew was at a temporary loss for words. "Well, I think it's an awesome thing to know how to do."

"Awesome if you're a senior citizen," Gil chuckled. "I mean, no one uses it anymore, I just do it out of habit most of the time."

Matt hummed in agreement, finding the little fact about the boy to be so interesting. He wished that more people knew the Gilbert Beilschmidt that knew cursive and playwrights rather than the Gilbert Beilschmidt that was hot headed and had no self control. They arrived at the auditorium and threw their backpacks in adjacent seats, grabbing their scripts and making haste for the stage. The director beamed at the pair and greeted them for that day's session.

"Matt, Gil! So how are you guys coming along with your current scenes?"

They collectively shrugged and Gil answered for the both of them, "It's going alright, I suppose."

"Great!" he exclaimed, gesturing towards the group of students already on the stage. "Would you mind joining the drama circle as we wait for the rest of our cast?"

The teens walked up on stage and sat themselves down, engaging in more small talk with one another and a handful of other crew members. As Matthew chatted with the student playing the Mercutio role, Gil stayed suspiciously to himself. The violet eyed boy didn't make much of it until the director came into the center of the circle and made his announcement.

"So today I would like everyone to work with your partners again, and really try to get a feel for your lines this time. Try channeling your inner pathos with your parts!" He clapped his hands and turned toward Matthew specifically, "And don't hold anything back! Really immerse yourselves in your roles!"

As soon as their manager turned around, Matthew felt his jacket pocket buzz. He stealthily pulled out his cell phone and read the new message.

Unknown:

So I just realized that those were hearts you drew on my hand and not a part of your phone number.

Matthew shot his eyes up at the boy sitting beside him and exasperated, finally understanding the foreign boy's delayed reaction to the doodles earlier. He nonchalantly smacked him in the arm and returned to his cell phone to add the unknown number into his contacts as, "Gillie". There was a pause when the teen attended to his own phone and updated Matthew's contact as, "Mattie".

Then, the drama instructor spoke up and made Matthew fumble with his phone from shock. He asked, "Is there something you'd like to share with us, Matthew?"

Matt glanced over at Gilbert who must have stealthily slid his phone back into his pocket when no one was looking, probably due to years of practice. He looked back up at the manager and shook his head, rendering an entire lecture about the importance of paying attention to commence. Mattie peered over at Gilbert who was snickering at his lack of finesse, and he rolled his eyes at his newfound friend.

AN: I was meaning to post this months ago, but family and personal matters got in the way. I'm also such a perfectionist and don't feel right posting without making sure I absolutely love the chapter. Thank you for waiting so patiently on me, I promise that I won't take forever again, I really do plan to update at least once a month. Please leave a review and thank you so much for reading!