"Pretty kitten." Archer hadnt expected Hunter to stay away for long, but he still gasped with surprise when a strong pair of arms looped around his waist, playfully rocking him back and forth. Giggling at the way Hunter nuzzled his face into his hair, as if sniffing the strong scent of strawberry shampoo, Archer turned his head to the side. His eyes widened to the size of saucers when his nose bumped into not any of the features on Hunters face, but the ticklish petals of a pink daisy. "Do you like it?" Hunter croaked lowly in his ear, still holding the flower up as Archer openly gaped at it, unable to move any part of his body. "I thought that if I was going to be having dinner with you, I ought to get you something to thank you."

Archer blinked his dry eyes, refreshing them with a thin coat of moisture. Shaking his head from side to side, he unscrewed his tight jaw, "I... I... Hunter, its beautiful. Ive always loved flowers. But... what are you thanking me for? Its just dinner with my family. I figured you might be hungry... what with you coming over for a few hours." Taking the flower from Hunters fingers, he turned his body around, feeling Hunters arms slide around his waist. Hunter had already exchanged his books for what he must have been bringing over to Archers house tonight, a black duffel bag that looked very deflated.

Hunter placed his fingers under Archers chin, raising his head so his eyes met the glint of Hunters dark sunglasses. "You silly kitten, what about you should I not be entirely grateful for? Dont tell me that you have a mole, sweetheart, because that might just be a deal breaker."

Laughing, Archer kicked at Hunters legs, making him move back a few steps so Archer could return to his locker, shuffling through his books and deciding what homework he needed to take home and what he could jot over during one of his study halls. "No moles... but I do have a very eccentric family who you are about to sit down and share a meal with. Youve only seen them when they were worn out after a plane ride. I dont think you really know what to expect of what will undoubtedly be the craziest dinner youve ever had. The good thing is that my père can make a mouthwatering lasagna."

"That sounds delicious." Hunter said lowly, already salivating at the thought of having a big dinner after eating a packed lunch that had gone cold. "And I think I can handle your family."

"My père and uncle, certainly. My uncle wont mind you, and my père is easy to get along with." Smirking up at Hunter, Archer closed his locker, one brow quirking. "My daddy wont be fooled by your smooth talk, though. As long as you are alone with me, he wont give up his stink eye on you. He was fine with you as my cousins best friend, but definitely not as mine." Hunter chuckled at that, mindlessly reaching down for Archers hand, only to be swatted away. "No... you cant touch me at all in front of them... especially not my daddy. My père might approve of you, but he was the biggest gossip in France. Hell likely hold the same title here. He would tell my daddy about everything he saw... and maybe even exaggerate the story."

As if provoked by the challenge set in front of him, Hunter turned his head down to him, a cocky smile flipping up his lips. "Ive always had a way to get whatever I want, Archer. Im fairly confident that by the end of the night, even if I went so far to ask your dad for permission to take your hand in marriage, hed give it to me on a silver platter."

A smile twitched at Archers lips, "Youve never been told no, have you? I suppose you havent met a man quite as bullheaded as my daddy, then."

After Hunter took Archers bag from him and swung it over his free shoulder, they walked out of the school side by side, Hunter for once silenced by something that made him uneasy. Archer had been waiting for the day when he could practically see the wheels turning in his head, and it made him chuckle to himself as he wondered if Hunter was imagining all of the ways his daddy could serve him on a platter. Just as Archer took a step in the direction of Hunters leaning motorcycle, a hand came to the collar of his shirt, pulling him back to Hunters side. "Id rather walk you to your house." He said quickly, making Archer raise a high brow at him. Hunter shook his head, spreading his hands out on either side of him. "Its not a bad day to just take the sidewalks. Besides, I feel like I wouldnt stand a chance with your dad if I pulled up on a motorcycle."

For some reason, Archer didnt feel like he was being given the whole truth from Hunter, who had held out a handful of lame excuses, but he let the subject of the motorcycle drop. It wasnt like it was even his place to demand that Hunter drive him around on it. Instead, he and Hunter took an extra ten minutes to get back to his house by walking along the bumpy, rough sidewalks, most of them reduced to pieces of gravel and dirt. Hunter was right that it was a decent day to just take a stroll, one of the last few warm days they would have before the rainy days of fall brought with them a wall of cold clouds that blocked out the hot sun. Archer slowed a few steps behind Hunter as he stepped on each crunchy leaf, like he used to when he and his père would window shop through the streets of France, and when Hunter realized what he was doing, he came to a stop and held his arm out for Archer. He chuckled when Archer scurried back to his side, tucking himself against him.

By the time they reached the paved surface of his driveway, Archer had crushed his hundredth leaf, so he finally picked up his pace. On the way to the front door, he saw two small forms sitting in the grass, wings fanned out and flapping every so often as they bathed in the bright sunshine. "Pavarotti! Everett!" He cried, hurrying away from Hunters side so he could pick up his birds, who his père must have let out so they could get some fresh air blowing through their feathers. Kneeling beside of their plump, wiggling bodies, he scooped them up with his fingers and set them on his shoulder, where they happily patted their talons as if doing a small dance. "Hunter, these are my birds. Ive had them since I was a baby. They dont fly as much as they used to, but they still wake me up with their favorite songs."

As Hunter hesitantly reached out to stroke Pavarottis ruffled feathers, the door swung open and then smacked shut again. His père appeared in the doorway, calling for the birds to come in so they could eat their dinner, before he noticed the two larger figures standing in the grass. "Archer!" He chirped, balling up fistfuls of his skirt as he skittered down the steps and onto the walkway. When he remembered that his feet were bare and were now scuffed with twigs and crushed nuts left behind by squirrels, he frowned down at them, and then perked his head back up, a gracious smile popping his dimples onto his cheeks. "Youre Hunter, arent you?" Before Hunter had a chance to reply, his père swept over to him, moving as light as a butterfly being carried in a breeze. He placed his hands at Hunters shoulders, looking him over fondly. "Archer told me you were coming over for dinner tonight, so I fixed something special. I do hope you like parmesan lasagna... and for dessert a cherry cobbler."

"It sounds great, Père." Archer put in, plucking his birds off of his shoulder and handing them over to his père, who cupped them in his hands, cooing to them that he had their dinner already prepared when they twittered up at him. "Where are Daddy and Uncle Keegan?"

They followed his père inside, Archer unceremoniously dropping his bag to the floor before he went after his père to the kitchen. He could smell the herby lasagna melting and simmering in the oven, and his stomach rumbled impatiently. He didnt know how he would go a whole week without a meal prepared by his père. After he deposited the birds at their food bowls, which they dunked their heads into, his père swished over to the oven, carefully pulling the door open so he could check the pan of bubbling cheese and sizzling tomatoes. "Your uncle is upstairs... I think he is reading a book that I told him he should. It was wonderful, darling... one of those fairytales about witches and ogres and knights. He should be down soon. Your dad is finishing up paperwork-"

"Just finished." Someone corrected, and Archer looked up at his daddy, who came around the corner of the hallway. He set a pile of papers down on the counter, then immediately reached out to snatch his husband up, pressing kisses all over his smiling lips. "I dont know what smells better, that lasagna or this new perfume." His père throatily giggled at his husbands teasing, his cheeks tinting a pale pink, and then he murmured something that Archer couldnt hear. His daddys head instantly snapped up from where it had been resting on his husbands shoulder, mouth already firm and eyes narrowed to thin slits. Archer could almost see the way that the two men were sizing each other up, his daddy taking in every detail of Hunters stance, which was a little closer than Archer would have preferred it to be, at least for this situation, while Hunter maintained a calm demeanor, his face giving nothing away. Archer rolled his eyes, feeling like he was watching one of those ridiculous stand offs between two rowdy cowboys who had somehow insulted each others masculine pride.

When he figured out that neither was going to say anything, Archer put in with an exasperated sigh, "Daddy, you remember Hunter. He was at the dinner that Grandpa and Grandma put together for us."

"Its nice to see you again." His daddy kept his voice flat, even though Archer could tell that he was just waiting for the first excuse to yell at Hunter to stay away from his pride and joy. "Dont you usually hang out with Dillon?"

Archer answered for Hunter again, "Yes... but hes hanging out with me now." Turning to his père, who was stirring a pot of tomato sauce that he was going to pour over the lasagna, he said in one breath, "Père, Im going to pack for the trip tomorrow. Well be up when dinner is ready." Before his daddy could actually start using his eyes as weapons, he quickly pulled Hunter away, taking him out of the kitchen and over to the basement door. He yanked it open, thudding down each step with a little more force than necessary. As soon as they were safely hidden from the scrutinizing eyes of his parents, he turned back to Hunter, who had never looked more put off. "I told you that he was going to be stern with you! He still thinks of me as his little boy, Hunter." Hunter finally lowered his head, watching his bag slide off of his shoulder and plonk to the floor. "Youre not upset with him, are you? Hes just protective over me. He would be this way with any boy I brought home."

When Hunter lifted his head, he had one brow arched above the rim of his glasses, "He doesnt have reason to be protective, does he?"

Even though the question was very unassuming, Archer immediately understood what Hunter was getting at. "No... he has no reason not to trust me. You, on the other hand, might just be a lost cause for him." Padding across the room, he sat down on the edge of his bed, watching Hunter unzip a pouch of his bag and pull out a handful of socks. "My daddy knows that Im gay... so hes very strict when it comes to me being around men. But... Ive never had a boyfriend before. This is the first time Ive ever brought a man home."

Hunter gave up on sorting his socks into piles of how long they were, and he glanced up at Archer with an incredulous expression, "Youre telling me that youve never had a boyfriend. Not one." When Archer shook his head, Hunter sat down hard on the floor, never turning his gaze away. Archer felt like he could bore holes through him. "Archer... thats almost impossible for me to believe. Men cant not notice you. You said two damned words to me and already had me wrapped around your finger." That comment made Archer crease his forehead, but he made no remark and let Hunter go on. "Is it that... you dont want to have a boyfriend? Or that youve never found anyone who can make you happy enough?"

Archer helplessly shrugged his shoulders, "Its just... never been much of a concern for me. I knew that Daddy would never allow it... and I didnt really know anyone. Ive been kept by myself for most of my life. Thats why I wanted to come here, to see if I could meet people and make friends. Ive never had anything like this." Slumping his back over, he fretfully wrapped his arms around his stomach, which he was suddenly aware of being even more pudgy than it usually was. "And, Hunter... men dont think that Im anything special to look at. My hair is too frizzy... and I have these awful freckles... and I have crooked teeth... and Im a little chubby." He flicked his eyes back up to Hunters face, which was rumpled with something that was between confusion and concern, "Youre the only man whos ever expressed any kind of interest. Im not something that guys can brag about to their friends, or hold proudly on their arms. Im too outspoken... and I know too much about some of the most pointless things... and Im not good looking in the least-"

Hunters mouth pushed to the side of his face, as his knees drew up to his chest, where he wrapped his arms around them to keep them in place. He took a deep, shaky breath, and he slowly shook his head from side to side. And then he whispered something that Archer never thought he would, something about himself, "Archer... I dont know how old I am." Archer made a face at that, his lips parting just few centimeters as a silent gasp exhaled from them. After a moment, he cleared his throat, one hand that was resting on his knee lifting to his chin, where he scratched at his stubble. "I think Im sixteen... but I could be seventeen, or even eighteen. I just dont know. I think Karofsky forgot over the years... the alcohol did something to his head. A lot of memories have gone away... my birthdate included. Ive tried to ask him, but when hes awake, hes too drunk to be coherent, and when he can be coherent, hes usually asleep."

Archer pushed his brows together, sinking his fingers into the carpet as he slowly dropped to the floor, scooting over to where Hunter was sitting. "Is Karofsky your dad?"

Archer was startled when Hunter merely rolled one of his shoulders, "I dont know. I think he is... but Ive never called him my dad. Ive never thought of him as my dad." His dark head turned toward Archer, who had idly reached down for the main pocket of his bag and had started rifling through his clothes, most of them filthy or torn. "Part of me feels like I had something else... at one time. But... all I can remember is... Karofsky. Its always just been me and him." Suddenly, Hunter made an aggravated sound, and he tore his face away from Archer, glaring down at the bag of clothes. "Im sorry... I shouldnt have said anything."

"No... its okay." Archer reassured him, placing a hand on his tense arm, which he could feel stretching as Hunter pushed his fist into the dented carpet. "Hunter... I dont mind hearing what... what things are like for you. Not at all." Carefully moving closer to Hunter, he hesitantly laid his arms across his shoulders, linking his hands in between Hunters collarbones. "Can you just... tell me one more thing?" Hunter carelessly made another shrugging motion, so Archer took that as an okay for him to mumble, "Hunter... why have you never let me see your eyes? You wear these sunglasses... even when youre inside. Why do you hide your eyes?"

Placing one finger on the earpiece of the sunglasses, Archer cautiously slid it a centimeter forward. He was taken aback when Hunter showed no reaction, only cocking his head slightly to the side to make it easier for Archer to pull them off. As if startled by something, Hunter instantly squinted his eyes shut, making Archer panic as he grabbed Hunters face, trying to figure out what was wrong. "Turn off the light... please." He begged, his voice wavering on the verge of desperation, so Archer immediately lunged to his feet, flipping off the lamp that emitted a dull, golden glow. Hunter made a low sound of relief, and Archer watched with eyes the size of saucers as Hunter shifted the lid on one eye at a time, peeling up the first and showing Archer the lightest yellow, surrounding a thin slit where an expanded pupil should have been. He did the same with the other, and then Archer found himself gaping at a pair of almond eyes, so bright that they almost blinded him, like the sun would.

Hunters lashes beat his cheeks a few times as he adjusted to the darkness, and then he opened his eyes wide, closing them briefly as Archer crept closer. "Open them." Archer murmured softly, lowering to the floor in front of Hunter once more. "Theyre so beautiful, Hunter. Why would you want to keep them hidden?" Hunter blinked again, and that was when Archer noticed what seemed to be a glassy film that slid back over his eyes every time he opened and shut them. Furrowing his brows, Archer reached out for Hunters face, becoming even more bewildered when Hunter didnt flinch, as anyone else would, at the fingertips that were just centimeters from the surfaces of his eyeballs. "Can I touch them?" The question drew a gasp out of Hunter, who suddenly dropped his lids over his yellowish eyes. Archer leaned closer to him, pressing the backs of his fingers to those translucent, twitching lids. His long fans of golden brown lashes quivered against Archers knuckles. Lowering his voice so he couldnt even hear himself, Archer slid his fingers down to the bags under Hunters eyes, watching his lids flip up when the pressure was taken off of them. "What is your real eye color?"

The question might have been a little too bold, since Hunter clearly hadnt been admitting to him that he wore contacts when he first showed him his eyes, but the yellow was so obviously fake that Archer felt like he would be duping himself if he didnt take advantage of the fact that he knew that Hunter was lying to him. Hunter didnt seem shocked that he wasnt oblivious to the contacts, and he simply muttered, "Theyre brown. Dark brown." He blew out heavily on Archers hands, which had somehow lowered to his cheeks and lips.

"Your hair is, too, isnt it?" Archer asked, not having to see Hunters nod to know that he was correct.

"My skin isnt naturally this dark, either." Hunter pointed out, lifting his hands as if Archer had never seen them before.

Taking Hunters hands in his, Archer softly squeezed them, "I think that you would be beautiful even if you werent hiding yourself." He whispered, pushing himself against Hunter so he could rub his cheek against his. Hunter inhaled sharply, the rush of air like a small gust of wind against the side of Archers neck. "Hunter?" He peeped, feeling Hunter shift against him, his face nuzzling underneath his soft chin. "Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

A second passed that Hunter didnt reply, and Archer was sure that his supply of answers had run out, and that he had gone back to his thinking that he didnt like questions. But then Archer felt the smallest of nods, and he heard Hunters hoarse whisper in his ear, "Ive had boyfriends and girlfriends. Ive had sex with people who I didnt know the names of. Ive done things with people that I cant even remember doing because I was so drunk." Hunters hand came up to his head, pressing against his wild curls, and he dragged his fingers through them. "But Ive never, ever been in love." He turned his head to the side, pressing kisses over dark tendrils of hair that clung to his sticky lips, and to the side of his nose, and to his hot cheek, "Youre perfect, nosy kitten. My perfect, little kitten." He grabbed Archers face with both of his hands, turning it toward his, and then all Archer could taste was Hunter and cigarettes. The kiss was warm and open, with tongue sliding and prodding, and teeth scraping. Quiet moans were exchanged in a foreign language that both of them seemed to understand. "My perfect, little Archer." Hunter heaved, and then Archer closed his mouth over his, once again leaving Hunter speechless.