How Green Becomes Wood

"I didn't mean to hurt you, and I'm sorry I did," Milo responded, still not looking up, "I couldn't... change, anything, about what I was doing, if you don't tell me." He fiddled with the camera case, "I know that I probably shouldn't criticize your habit, regardless of how I feel about it," the smoothness with which he euphemistically said 'habit' revealed how practiced he was at the switch, "and if that's all, I won't say anything about it again, but... after that... I was just trying to, you know, talk to you... about why you were upset."
 
Xander finally looked at Milo and stared at him with open confusion. "Um, just to be clear," he said cautiously, "you think I was mad at you for criticizing my smoking?"
 
Slouching even further and looking even more intently at his shoes, his grip on the camera case threatening to accidentally scratch the leather, "I didn't really know why. I knew you were mad at me, so I figured it was something I said. It normally is. And I had been coming down pretty hard on you about the usage... then I asked what you were annoyed about... and you started yelling... I guess I probably came down too hard about what you were stressed about too... I'm sorry..."
 
Xander looked away and shoved his hands into his pockets so hard one of them popped a few stitches on the inside. "It's not just you," he said. "I mean, yeah, it was hella annoying and not good timing, but, you know, you were trying to look out for the mini. It's not a bad thing. It just that I..." He hesitated. "Look, I wasn't kidding when I said I'm not good at being friends. I never even had friends until last year. I don't know how to do... this. How to talk. About most things. I'm used to people... hurt them first so they can't hurt you, you know? It's not good, but it's hard to unlearn. There's only been Alec who actually cared until recently, and now our folks, maybe a little bit of Sloan, but others ask why you're stressed and turn it into a chance to tease you and make fun of you for being stressed, so when you asked..." He shrugged. "Lifelong instinct."
 
"...you've seen me get my ass kicked in the hallway a thousand times...you really don't have to worry about me... being like that." Milo replied, shrugging his shoulders up too high and nodding, "I'm not--I know you didn't know, or anything, and you've gotta be careful... but, you know, I--I'm not someone you have to be careful about like that. You know? Because I already get my ass kicked enough, and you can kick my ass, and even if you couldn't..." He shrugged again, "I'm not brave enough to be mean even if being mean was something I... liked... to be...?"
 
"As someone who's certifiably mean, I can tell you there's not much bravery involved usually. Mostly stupidity," Xander admitted. He glanced at Milo, realizing perhaps for the first time how much taller the other would be if he actually stood up straight. He spoke carefully, measuring his words. "I would like to think and believe you wouldn't be like that, but it's hard sometimes to get out of your own head and believe what you see. You know?"
 
"Yeah, I understand." Milo replied, still messing with the camera cover. "I mean, I understand. Really. But you don't have to... worry. About me." He bounced uncomfortably on one leg, trying his absolute best to quiet the thoughts springing unbidden to his mind. He hadn't been totally honest when he said he wasn't brave enough to be mean, because he was really an expert at being mean to himself.
 
Xander hesitated. "Um, does this mean you want to keep being friends?" he asked cautiously. The thought never occurred to him that Milo might possibly want to stick around.
 
That comment was the first thing that made Milo actually look up at Xander, and when he saw the little smile, he quickly returned it before looking away again. He still didn't feel great about it, but at least, well, Xander apologized in his strange way, and wasn't still mad at him, and he didn't have to worry about Xander joining the ranks of kids wanting to kick his ass... so it resolved about as well as he would have hoped it could.
 
Xander gestured to the camera case Milo held. "I don't know if it'll fit right. I got the measurements to your camera online, but I don't know if it's exact. If it does fit, I made it waterproof. I wouldn't go swimming with it, but puddles shouldn't hurt it." He looked away. "I should probably get going. See you later?"
 
"Thank you," Milo murmured, holding it up, "I'll try it when I'm sitting so I don't have to worry about... anything. I'll see you around." Again, he briefly looked at Xander to give the smallest of smiles.
 
A tiny tight coil relaxed inside Xander's chest. It didn't go away entirely, but it was easier. Maybe things would be better? Maybe. He still had that lingering doubt that Milo would stick around. Why would he when he knew Xander was liable to bite? And Milo wasn't like Sloan. Sloan gave him a little slack, but she didn't put up with it, either. Still, she stuck around despite it all. Milo was more delicate. Maybe it was better he didn't want to stay around whatever Xander wanted, but at least now, as long as Xander didn't lose his head, they could part on slightly better terms. He went to catch up with Alec, who was waiting a short distance down the hall.
 
Milo slunk away to his own little hidden place, and put the camera into the holder. It was a little snug, but leather relaxed with use, so he wasn't worried. It was a really cool, neat thing, and he really liked it. And thinks would be easier now, probably, at least while he was still there. His mom would be out, soon. But he still felt anxious about everything, because he just... He worried about saying the wrong thing, again.
 
School finally ended, and Xander and Alec were free. They headed for the bus and caught a ride home, Xander still keeping one eye out for Milo. It was habit by this point. He didn't say anything on the ride back home, and Alec let him sit in silence as he tried his hand at songwriting. He was terrible at it, but he had the urge to sing original songs, not just covers. Maybe he could find a songwriter?
 
When the twins made it home, Daizi greeted them like she always did, albeit this time with a little more urgency and concern, which she tried hard to keep obscured so the twins didn't immediately recognize it, "Hey, welcome home. How was school?"
 
"Pretty good, I think," Alec said cheerfully.

Xander shrugged. "Alright," he mumbled. He kicked off his shoes and tapped the salt before wandering into the living room.

"How was your day?" Alec asked Daizi as he touched the salt as well.
 
"Oh fine," Daizi said, listening to the sounds of Xander walk away. 'Alright' was better than 'sucky', and he didn't immediately march upstairs, so... That was an improvement. "I've got Ivy over in her pack-and-play, now... I think it was the right choice to move it down here, we did it late last night. Your father thinks it 'harms the aesthetics' of the room, but I told him if the situation becomes too dire, we can hire a seamstress to switch the fabrics. She likes it, though, she's got more space."
 
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Alec laughed at that and went to hug Daizi. "The aesthetics will still be here by the time Ivy outgrows the playpen."

Xander circled the playpen, eying it speculatively. It wasn't the worst, but it sure didn't fit. He glanced toward Daizi and then dropped his bag near the stairs before going to get a drink.
 
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