Chapter Text
The phone screen only showed 10:49, and Norman was already standing at his apartment door. They spent every Saturday morning together: a cup of strong, aromatic coffee in Norman's hand and green tea with citrus notes in Ray's.
Quiet footsteps were heard on the other side, then faded away; the boy paused, waiting.
Ray knew he had arrived. After all, the dark-haired boy had spent an hour staring at the window trying to spot the familiar silhouette. Norman knew his friend was standing on the other side of the door, knew he was waiting for him to make the first move.
"Well, if that's what you're looking forward to, then have it your way, Ray."
Norman knocked confidently twice on the door, causing the man leaning against it on the opposite side to flinch. Smiling to himself, he waited once more. He was such a patient man when he knew it would pay off. The door clicked, and it creaked open with a soft squeak, nearly knocking Norman off his feet, but he quickly recovered and stepped away from it.
"You're early today," Ray stated the truth with a strange smile. And that smile reeked with trouble. Norman winced.
"Really? Did you just wake up? I don't think so." The question stunned Ray, and then, when the full meaning of the words sank in, he suddenly felt embarrassed, even to himself, and looked away.
Did Norman know? Had he really seen him sitting by the window? How long had he been standing there, and why could not Ray notice him? Damn it! He figured out his blind spot so easily. But it was Norman, after all; everything was easy for him.
Besides math…
When he grinned triumphantly, Ray suddenly paled, despite his flushed cheeks. It was all written all over his face, wasn't it?
"Oh yes, Ray. You're so naive that you thought I wouldn't notice how you’re waiting for me every time," Norman proclaimed in his mind, his whole demeanor showing what he was thinking. He leaned against the edge of the door. Ray stepped back - retreated.
"Will you let me in? Standing in a cold hallway is no fun," despite his taunting thoughts he said that almost innocently, moving his hand from the door to the strap of his backpack, allowing Ray to open it wider so he could enter.
"Do I have a choice?" Ray's weary question was rhetorical, as they both knew he certainly didn't have one.
Moving away from the door, he let his guest into the warm apartment.
And as soon as Norman crossed the threshold, the game began.
Taking off his shoes and coat, still wearing a light T-shirt, he walked into Ray's room, backpack in hand. The room, familiar for such a long time, greeted him with open arms that exuded warmth and something enchanting. Despite the minimalist, dark tones that permeated the entire apartment, it still felt very cozy.
Placing his bag on the extra chair already in place, Norman opened it and began to pull out everything he needed to conquer the most intimidating subject - math. Ray sat down next to him, placing two mugs of coffee and tea on the table. Norman smiled. Still, there were some things in their so-called "studies" that remained constant.
"What don't you understand this time?" Ray asked without a hint of judgment, picking up a math book and opening it halfway.
While his friend listed the necessary topics, he turned the pages, first licking the pad of his finger.
Norman focused more on this gesture than on memorizing the material he had already studied to perfection.
However, his fixated gaze didn’t escape Ray’s notice: his friend wasn’t looking at the book with explanations at all.
Lips. Ray had enticing lips, so full and pink that the urge to run his fingertips over them was almost unbearable, but he restrained himself. After all, Norman had always been known for his self-control.
The way his lower lip touched the rim of the mug, the way he unconsciously ran his tongue over it, licking away the citrus flavor that seemed to ingrained itself in his lips - Norman observed everything, absorbed the view like a sponge that cannot be wrung out.
Having finished explaining something important, Ray turned his gaze to his friend, who hadn't heard him at all. He said nothing about this ungrateful attitude toward his help. For now.
"Norman, now solve this equation, please," the boy said with faked politeness, smiling contentedly, pointing to the most difficult example in the book, thus sobering his guest. It wasn't just difficult; it was a problem of the highest difficulty level, the kind you only get at Olympiads. They didn't even touch them at school.
Norman, in turn, ignoring the level markings, which was what led to his defeat in this round, solved it in four minutes and thirty-six seconds.
Ray checked it himself. Everything was correct.
This meant that his suspicions were confirmed once again.
"You know," Ray began, watching his friend drink his now-cold coffee. "Lying isn't very nice. Especially to me, Norman." The end of the sentence seemed to knock the breath out of him, causing him to nearly choke on his own drink under Ray's intense gaze.
"What makes you think I'm lying to you about anything?" He asked quietly, wary. And if it had been anyone other than Ray, who was listening, it would have gone unnoticed.
"Probably because you managed to solve the most difficult equation in the entire topic and didn’t even bat an eye?" Norman's face finally stretched in surprise, and his eyes seemed to lighten slightly, making him look like an owl. His gaze darted over the lines of the explanation book, which seemed to mock him:
"How could this be, Norman? You were caught in such a primitive way and the only thing your cunning boy used against you was just one ‘please’."
"Well, you know... You explain everything so clearly that even something like this wouldn't be a big deal at all," he tried to excuse himself with praise, forcing a ridiculous smile.
"Don't try to close my eyes with flattery; you know it doesn't work with me," Ray said majestically, carefully watching the slightest changes on his friend's face. It was so funny to corner Norman himself, one of their school geniuses. It was incredible; his smile couldn't help but widen.
"Just luck," the guest croaked, belatedly realizing that Ray was the last person to believe in luck. Realizing he didn’t have thing to lose anymore, he decided to go on the offensive: "Where did you come up with such a conclusion? You couldn't have made such an accusation without any ace up your sleeve." Despite a moment of confusion, he hit the target.
“Yes, you're right. I started thinking about this not long ago...”
***
The classroom was quiet; the only sound was the scraping of chalk - which the teacher held as she drew another diagram for copying - on the surface of the board and the scraping of chairs by some of the classmates.
"Ray," Emma whispered, but when he didn't respond, she gently tugged at the hem of his shirt, causing him to flinch slightly. Fortunately, the teacher had her back to them, and the girl spoke quietly enough to avoid suspicion. "I need your help."
"Emma, it's class time. What ‘help’ you are talking about?” The boy hissed discontentedly, not taking his eyes off his notes, while she turned almost completely to face her friend. "Turn around, we'll talk during break."
Ray warned her just in time, because a few seconds after his words, the teacher turned around, first brushing the remains of chalk from her hands. She continued the lesson, which was no different from the others before the exams.
After the annoying bell rang from the hallway, everyone stood up and began packing their things for the next lesson. Ray had barely managed to close his bag containing his essentials when he was suddenly grabbed by the collar of his sweatshirt from behind and dragged toward the restroom.
Emma was determined, so without any extra effort she was able to drag him into one of the stalls of the same toilet, politely locking the door.
"Emma, what are you doing? This is a girl's restroom," he hissed, listening carefully to make sure no one else was there. He might be caught off guard, and rumors might spread, so excuse him for not being happy about that contour. "They might see us."
"They might not see you, but if you continue to scream like that, they'll definitely hear you," the girl replied with a smirk, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. "So what? Are you ready to listen to me?"
“Spill it,” Ray said as if indifferently, looking at the girl with distrust; who knows what she might do this time.
Anything could be expected from her, even an occupation of the school under some strange, completely idiotic pretext. No matter how crazy these ideas were, he never had a choice, so he always had to agree with a heavy sigh to some next crazy idea. He felt this time would have been no different than the others.
“Just don’t get angry and don’t yell... again,” she hinted with his words that Ray should prepare for the worst, which he did, visibly tensing up.
"Yes, I got it." It was already starting to irritate him that Emma thought he was some kind of hysterical human being who couldn't control their emotions.
That never happened before, right?
“So... we need to get into the headmistress’s office...” she blurted out quickly, looking defiantly straight into his gray eyes.
Phew, at least they don't have to go outside the school grounds this time. What a relief.
Wait...
They needed to do what?
"Are you insane?!" Ray screamed, then quickly covered his mouth with his hand, remembering the girl's last words. He really was hysterical, wasn’t he? Emma smiled stupidly and looked him in the eye, expecting further questions. The boy then continued:
"Why would we even go there? You know, if we get caught..."
Still, her request sounded ridiculous, as sneaking into Isabella's office was pure suicide. And the thought of what would happen to them if they were caught was terrifying. While the headmistress might not be able to suspend the best students in their year, or perhaps in the entire school, if they learned of something they shouldn't know, she would take certain measures, some of which would be very harmful to them.
“Have you noticed that there are a lot more new children at school?”
Yes, that was true. They had tested every semester. Twenty-five percent, or a quarter of the children in the class with the worst results, were expelled without the opportunity to re-enter. Not long before, they had conducted the same tests, after which seven children left the class, and, of course, others were added.
"So what? It's just a normal selection," Ray replied, confused. Such an unusual question left him perplexed. It really was a simple selection; the boy had no other explanation. Except for one interesting coincidence, which seemed very strange, if you think about it.
"Although... After these selections were introduced, school funding increased significantly. Isn’t that... illogical?" Ray continued out loud, tapping his fingers on the bathroom wall - something he couldn't control, that sometimes irritated him.
Much has changed at the school since they started administering these tests: the classrooms were equipped with all the necessary equipment for their intended purpose, the gym and cafeteria were renovated, and now it resembled some sort of elite training facility, which their school had never been before. They even started bringing in top-notch food, and the four sports fields alone were truly something to behold! Separate fields for volleyball, basketball, soccer, and baseball. It was like paradise, wasn't it?
Yes, that was probably what everyone who tried to get in here thought. Incidentally, the toilets were also in decent condition, even having sensor flushes, and Ray often had the thought that they looked too much like hidden cameras, but he dismissed it with all his might, citing paranoia; such news wouldn't let anyone live in peace.
"That's right. I hope you understand now that something is wrong. It all happened too... abruptly," Ray merely nodded to that.
Smiling encouragingly, the girl reached for the lock, which she instantly opened with a soft clang. Emma took Ray, who looked surprised - for the umpteenth time today - by the hand and pulled him toward the exit, meeting Anna's equally surprised gaze.
They walked quietly down the hallway, looking back to make sure no one saw them. Although this plan had failed back then, when Anna caught the two of them leaving the women's restroom stall, it didn't matter; the main thing was that it wouldn't happen again. But you should have seen the look on her face; it was worth it! It was somewhere between mild fear and incomprehensible anger.
"Emma, wait, where are we even going?" Ray hissed quietly, squeezing her hand tighter, but she didn't react at all, not slowing down.
"Well, of course we're going to the headmistress's office, dummy," she replied just as quietly, turning the corner abruptly, dragging Ray along with her. "Norman's waiting for us not far from there," Emma mentioned, grinning sarcastically, as if by accident. And Ray was once again convinced that behind the sweet girl's image lurked a dancing demon.
At the same time, he also understood that all three of them were like that.
They were unusual children. Too gifted to be considered ordinary, but no one called them geniuses, for fear that would skyrocket their self-esteem. That would never happen actually, so the whole school didn't have anything to worry about.
Norman was indeed standing by the ill-fated door, so relaxed, as if breaking into the headmistress's office was a routine matter. But Ray was tense, even overly so, nervously fiddling with his fingers, trying to calm himself. And he succeeded; all the nervousness vanished, as if it had never been there. Abruptly, as if something had forced him to calm down.
"So, are you ready?" Norman asked calmly, and Ray could have sworn he was being mocked. Ray. Emma was always ready to do anything stupid, there was no doubt about that.
"Yeah, yeah," Ray waved him off weakly, feigning utter disinterest. Emma nudged him in the side, giggling, causing him to hiss softly.
"That's perfect. Then, Ray, you'll be responsible for opening the door, then you and Emma will sneak in, and I'll stand guard." Norman was exceptionally good at handing out tasks to everyone, and the other two nodded in agreement.
This wasn't the first time they had done things like that, but so far, they had gotten away with it. It was likely that no one really noticed them sneaking out of class. Although perhaps the absence of three best students, skillfully eluding class for a crucial reason, didn't go, in fact, unnoticeable.
The thing was: Emma had successfully faked a broken leg in gym class, so there were more witnesses. But there was little serious damage there, a small bruise, perhaps nothing more.
Then she leaped to their classroom, which was on the second floor.
No one questioned Emma when she asked to go to the infirmary because of the excruciating pain in her leg. Norman and Ray volunteered to take her there and quickly left, not giving the teacher a chance to argue that one was enough.
The library was sparsely populated, perhaps even just staff members. They were exploring the various bookcases, some of which had already accumulated a decent layer of dust.
That was precisely the book Ray chose.
A book about spies, not particularly boring from the description. It was from this book that he learned how to pick locks.
Emma brought back some primitive detective stories, perhaps horror novels, about some children's farms and demons. Norman, meanwhile, decided to study the well-known Morse code in more detail - why so suddenly, no one knew.
They stayed there until evening, and then, as usual, went home.
***
“Remember when I opened the lock,” Ray looked straight into his eyes without breaking contact, as if everything would be lost if he looked away, “we got inside and started searching.
“Of course I remember, then you dragged me in there too, completely forgetting that anyone could have come in,” Norman continued mockingly. "You didn't even close the door then. How reckless of you!" He waved his hands theatrically, causing Ray to roll his eyes.
“Yes, yes, I know, you are totally not imagining things right now. Well, before that, we found something else...”
***
"Ray, come here quickly, I found something," Emma babbled excitedly, pointing at some papers she'd probably just pulled out from under Isabella’s desk. Apparently, the headmistress hadn't had time to hide them in the safe yet, because they looked important.
The boy quietly approached her from behind and leaned over to see what had Emma so worried. It was an ordinary, unremarkable black folder containing some documents. Seeing Ray's displeasure, she quickly opened it.
Quickly reading the contents of the sheets, even rereading them several times, they both realized that they had gotten themselves into a story that was too complicated for schoolchildren, and that it could end very badly for them.
Each sheet had a photograph of one of the three of them attached to it, next to which was a stamp with the word “approved”.
Norman was first. His photo, description of his place of residence, and other necessary information - they already knew that. But what came next was more interesting: the results of all the selection tests they had taken since they arrived. They were all neatly filed away, making them untouchable. The tests were from all the core subjects, but Ray was most interested in math. Or rather, Norman's results.
And then the boy was quite surprised. As if he couldn't believe what was written, he looked at every sheet of paper, every class, checking it, and unmistakably concluded that Norman was lying. Smiling and not blushing. Surely, he couldn't possibly fail to understand something in class and still get a perfect score on every test! He hadn't even been invited to Ray's apartment yet! What a bastard...
The boy abruptly closed the folder, deciding to definitely talk to Norman, but not now. Right now, he had more important things to do - opening that damn safe! Emma checked it for any secret clues, maybe even a forgotten PIN code, but alas, there was none. She noticed tiny lines and dots on the safe, like some kind of code, and immediately reported this to Ray.
After examining everything even more thoroughly, they concluded it was nothing more than Morse code. They had to call Norman, whom Ray went to fetch, talking about a replacement and help with the safe. He immediately ran to Emma, to the place where they needed to deal with this damned piece of iron as quickly as possible.
They dug around there for about five minutes, and Ray was already starting to get nervous that the headmistress might suddenly come into her office and ruin all their plans.
They finally emerged from behind the door, grinning triumphantly. Emma was holding a phone with photos of the documents - Ray hoped so, knowing her photography skills.
"Done?" Ray asked quietly, almost breaking into a whisper.
"Done," Norman nodded affirmatively, and they hurried away. They moved smoothly, almost silently, so as not to attract attention. They returned to the classroom, having once again come up with some trustworthy excuse.
But somehow, they didn’t notice the head teacher Krone, standing in a very far corner...
***
"So that's it," Norman said with satisfaction, smiling encouragingly. More for himself, since this was about to reach the decisive climax of their conversation.
"Exactly," Ray nodded, propping his head up with his hand. It felt so heavy, like it was filled with lead, and he desperately wanted to sleep. Apparently, it was the early rise that was taking its toll, though only just now. And he had been wondering why it had been so easy to get up today.
“There's just one thing I'm curious about. Why did you come? Your grades are excellent and you obviously don’t need my help.”
"Well, I suppose I wanted to see you more often?" Norman was nervous, clutching his mug tightly until his knuckles turned white, but he tried to force a cheerful grin. It came out rather awkwardly.
“We see each other every day at school, idiot,” Ray said, sounding somewhat offended, watching the changing emotions on his friend’s face with poorly concealed interest.
"But Emma's there with us," he said furtively, avoiding a full answer. The strangest thing was that Norman hadn't lied at all just now. He didn't see the point anymore, since Ray would find out sooner or later anyway, so why hide what he thought was obvious?
"Are you really jealous of her towards me? Don’t want me to spend time with the two of you?" Ray was mockingly offended, and it was clearly visible. Norman stubbornly tried to ignore the fact that he had been caught so easily. Damn it, now he had to wriggle out of it.
"What? Where did you come to such conclusions, Ray?" Now he faked a genuine surprise, so genuine, as if he was even horrified by his friend's words. No, that's not right. It's not like that at all. Come on, Ray!
"Didn't you once tell me how much you loved her?" Ray drawled mockingly, emphasizing that damn ‘loved’ that sent shivers down both of their spines. This whole thing was strange.
"I was eleven! And she's like a sister to me now," the attempt at justification had the desired effect - Ray believed him, of course he did, willingly and unconditionally, because it was clear it was true. And Norman could breathe a sigh of relief, hoping he wouldn't want to dig deeper. So much deeper. Right into the heart.
"Sister, right," Ray said contentedly. "Well then, Norman, explain, what's the reason?" It was a victory. Undeniably, the purity of which could not be criticized. And they understood it: Norman proudly admitted his defeat, and Ray, grinning, celebrated his victory. Just a little more. Just a little pressure and...
“Because I love you, Ray,” Norman gave in, resigned himself to his fate and accepted it as his due, now looking at the confused Ray with a distinct challenge in his eyes.
And he really was confused, no, he wasn't scared. It was just that all the sharp words that he was about to say seemed to fly out of his head, like butterflies, leaving behind only empty space.
Ray didn't know what to say; he was genuinely amazed that Norman had managed to say it so easily, so casually, as if he, Ray, hadn't noticed something so obvious. What a fool he was. He was lost, completely. As if the victory he'd once held in his hands was slipping through his fingers, evaporating - in its place came the nasty realization of his own naїvety. He'd been tricked: the finish seemed so close that he'd forgotten who he'd started this game with. Norman. The Demon itself.
"What's wrong, Ray? What are you going to do now, when I told you the truth," Norman goaded him, and Ray wanted so badly to shut him up, preferably quickly, maybe even with a kiss, but that would only be if he got really brave. Desperate.
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” His attempt to play the fool he wasn’t was doomed to failure, but it was worth a try.
"Oh, really. Why did you have to push me for an answer? Were you really concerned about knowing the truth, like you wanted something to change once I confessed?” The simple things Norman had said now seemed like complex problems that wouldn’t be solved in his head without the help of another person.
And indeed. What did he want from Norman? What was supposed to happen after this? He confessed his feelings to him; Ray forced him to do it, and now he's floating somewhere far away, unable to collect his thoughts.
When did things go wrong?
Ray remained silent.
“You know, when I realized I felt something for you - something different, but at the same time vaguely familiar - I really wanted to check something,” Norman said furtively, gradually lowering his voice to a whisper, a little hoarse, but so mesmerizing.
"To check what..?" Ray finally decided to ask, raising his left eyebrow in anticipation.
Norman moved closer while leaning his right hand on the table. Their knees were now touching.
"I've always wondered... what your lips tasted like," Norman finished with a sigh, finally hovering over the other boy. Their breaths burned each other's skin, and they didn't break eye contact, drowning in an endless abyss from which they had no desire to escape.
Grabbing Ray's chin with his left hand, thereby turning him completely towards himself, Norman smirked one last time, touching his lips to Ray's.
Norman was right in his guess, after all. The boy's lips were soft, so soft you wanted to bite them without regret.
He ran his tongue over Ray's lower lip, causing him to exhale a little too shakily, trying to swallow the saliva that had accumulated. He sucked on the same lip, slowly, relishing it, then ran his teeth over it with a certain sadistic pleasure. The other boy stuck out his tongue, brushing against Norman's, causing Norman to involuntarily roll his eyes - it was ticklish, intoxicating, and so hot that he longed for something cold, but the only cold thing around them was their drinks, and that wasn't appealing at all.
They kissed hungrily, giving themselves completely to each other, as if they wanted to drown in the sensations, to melt, anything, as long as it lasted as long as possible. Sometimes their noses would bump, and then Ray would quietly hiss, glaring angrily, while Norman would just smirk contentedly.
They also loved to bite. The newly bitten lower lip would ache pleasantly, and their mouths would gradually fill with a warm, red liquid that mixed with saliva. Lost in the whirlwind of sensations, they no longer remembered whose lip had been bitten or whose tongue was so noticeably sore.
Deciding to deepen the kiss, Ray touched his tongue to the roof of his mouth, grazing across Norman's even teeth, earning a satisfied growl. And it made everything inside him swirl in a thin spiral, as if his stomach were bursting with impatience, an inexorable desire for more.
The series of long, deep, and therefore especially pleasant kisses had to be interrupted because the hands that served as support seemed to have gone numb, and they could not even feel their own lips - they were unusually red, but no less attractive for that.
A thin thread of saliva trailed between their tongues as soon as they pulled away, and their breathing became completely out of rhythm, mixing with each other. This seemed unsettling to both of them, and they quickly averted their gaze - a rather difficult task.
When Norman finally got off Ray, who was now completely propped up against the back of the chair - was he really almost on his lap? - he glanced around the room in confusion, searching for something to cling to. But besides Ray, who was so heated from the kisses, little else mattered to him here.
"So, what are we going to do?" Ray asked, calming his rapidly beating heart and focusing intently on something of his own.
“Hmm, let me think,” Norman said, really thinking, searching for the most appropriate words in this situation, ones that would dot the i's and cross the t's in their relationship. “I think the most logical thing to ask is, Ray, will you be my boyfriend?”
"You are going to be my boyfriend, Norman," Ray said, grinning defiantly, looking into those bright blue eyes. Yeah, you'll never get bored with him, but that definitely makes it more interesting.
“Well, well, we’ll see later,” Norman answered promisingly, and Ray was ready to confidently declare that he was already plotting something bad.
But it’s too early to judge, so they decide to return to mathematics with satisfied smiles.
Even if something strange really was happening at school, at least they had each other and could take care of everything together.
They're in it together, aren't they?