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It's been getting hotter lately. August crept into September and by the time the new missionaries arrived, it was October and always burning hot. Sadly, this isn't the desert, so the temperature doesn't drop at night - it stays stiflingly hot, and he can't even open a window.
He tells himself it's the heat, even though he's been acclimatising. Tells himself it's because Elder Thomas isn't sleeping in the bed next to him: oh no, he's disappeared back home for a funeral, which should of course make Connor feel terrible for him, but no. He's feeling terrible for himself.
Elder Thomas won't even be gone long, and since their district hasn't been registered back into the church yet, there's been no one to send a replacement.
It should, Connor reflects, be a good thing. A bit of privacy never went amiss. And it's nice that there's not a pair of inquisitive eyes watching whenever he wakes gasping from a Hell dream. Gasping, sometimes crying. He yelled once, but it was only the once.
They've been getting worse. They shouldn't be getting worse. Was all that therapy for nothing? All that pretending, constantly turning it off, what's the point if the dreams keep getting worse?
Is it a challenge of Connor's loyalty to the Church? Because he's never loved anything more, and yet for some reason Heavenly Father cursed him and then dropped Kevin Price on his doorstep.
Kevin said fuck the rules. And then he looked right at Connor and said he could still be a Latter Day Saint even if he broke the rules. But that's obviously impossible. Connor has been cured. He obviously likes girls. Even though Nabalungi's over all the time and yet he never feels any attraction to her. And despite the women in the village sometimes wearing revealing clothes. And he has no girl he misses, no lady waiting for him back home.
Instead, he's stuck in this house of male missionaries, in a village where all the men are strong, intimidating, and his dreams are getting worse.
So maybe... Maybe he hasn't slept in a while. A few days, few nights. It's hot, after all. And Elder Thomas is gone. It's weird to sleep without his brother by his side. It's weird to still be awake after so little sleep, too, but it's a small price to pay if he doesn't have to see burning flames and minions of Hades and Lucifer himself mocking and torturing him.
And worse.
Some of the boys have taken the change better than Connor. Lights stay on after ten p.m.. Some missionaries leave their companions alone for a little while. Connor suspects Elder Cunningham of perhaps being involved with Nabalungi, but if he is he's hiding it well, and Connor figures he shouldn't bother their so-called prophet about it.
Some elders drink coffee. Kevin, for instance. He proclaimed he believed, but Connor wonders if he's imagining the doubt in his eyes every so often they meet. Kevin, Connor thinks, is a little addicted to coffee. Elder Thomas has decided that coffee makes his breakfast (of only poptarts, these days) even better. It wouldn't be so bad to have some, would it? Just to stay awake... Only, it's been a few days, and Connor needs to stay on the ball to manage this district, coordinate efforts to recruit more Ugandans, and somehow concoct a letter than will convince the Mission President to recognise their district officially again.
One cup won't be so bad, will it? He's seen a few of the boys make it, it can't be hard.
He's not sure what time it is. It's pitch dark outside his window, so of course all the boys will be in bed. He tugs on a pair of trousers over his garments, and creeps from his room to the corridor, the lights off in all rooms but Elder Cunningham and Kevin's. Strange, but Connor doesn't think much of it.
At any rate, he's glad most of the missionaries are asleep. He doesn't want them to see how far he's sunk. Elder Church had to snap him out of a daze three times yesterday, and obviously that cannot happen again.
Alas, Connor's luck is not so good. Downstairs, a few candles are lit, and Kevin Price of all people is sitting there, assessing the baptism count on the wall opposite.
"Elder McKinley?" he asks, because in this state Connor's a little slow and doesn't think to rush back upstairs before Kevin catches him. "Why are you up at this hour?"
Connor moves into the kitchen. "I could ask you the same thing," he replies.
A smirk, and Connor drops his eyes. "I asked first," Kevin counters, and Connor carefully picks his way to the kitchen.
He tries for nonchalance. "Can't sleep," he says, shrugging. He feels Kevin's eyes on him, even if his own are set on the counter he's now leaning against.
"You've not been looking well the past few days," Kevin tells him. Connor flushes. He'd really thought he'd hidden it well, but if Kevin - who spends most of his time choosing which Mormon stories to embellish with Arnold - caught it, then likely everyone has.
"Ah, well, yes," Connor agrees. "Just a touch of insomnia" - and certainly not a concentrated effort to keep from his Hell dreams - "but it's been affecting my work, and I..."
Kevin's brows raise a little, concern vanishing as his lips curve up again. "Are you going to make coffee, Elder McKinley?" he asks, sounding so playful and faux-surprised and Connor wonders if it would count as flirting in another world. Maybe, but Kevin had explicitly said he wasn't having gay thoughts, and a boy like him... The perfect Mormon, or at least he had been - nonetheless, bound to have girls lusting after him.
Boys too, apparently.
Which is exactly why he didn't want to see Kevin, gosh darn.
"Perhaps," Connor admits, maybe a little grudgingly. "There's a lot to do, you see, and I need to start preparing for the Church cutting off their funding to us if they don't agree to the proposals in my letter..." Connor sighs, then adds with maybe a bit of a whine, "That I haven't even written yet!"
"You're a very convincing person," Kevin assures him. "Just make up some bullshit, like Arnold was just telling pretend stories and the villagers just happened to believe they were true, or that it was the only way to reach them, or something."
"That's a good angle, actually," he considers. "I'll exaggerate it a bit, I guess."
Kevin nods, and they stand in silence for a second, Kevin reading over the baptism board whilst Connor draws circles on the counter.
How do you make coffee, exactly? He's never learnt, and watching the other elders make it only told him that you have to make some sort of tar-like sludge then add hot water, some milk, sugar if you like... He's not really sure how to start.
He fetches a mug out the cupboard, though, and fills the kettle up with water and sets it to boil. He then grabs a spoon, finds the newly-labelled jar of coffee and takes it over to his mug, too.
Behind him, Kevin's chuckling. Oh, right. He needs milk, too. Can't forget that.
"You don't even know how to make coffee."
"You don't know that," he bluffs. Kevin sidles up beside him, making him hyper-tense of their closeness and those- strange feelings that he's been struggling to turn off lately. "You just, um, you get the coffee" - he opens the jar - "and you take, you take at least three-"
"Don't!" Kevin laughs, grabbing the spoon off him and scorching Connor's hand as he takes a spoonful of coffee granules and dumps them in Connor's mug. "This is your first time for coffee, right? One spoonful, maybe two in a few hours if you're still tired."
Connor folds his arms. "Well, then what?"
Kevin opens his mouth to speak, but the kettle beeps as the water starts boiling, and he grins again. Not that clever, ambitious smile that he'd worn when Connor had first seen him, but charming nonetheless, even childish in its delight. In the dim glow of a few candles, Kevin's face is tinged red and his lips look so pink and he is so, so painfully close and Connor could just- he could just-
Not think about anything. Just coffee, they're just making coffee. Because Connor can't sleep because he keeps having Hell dreams because of stupid Kevin Price and stupid, stupid Connor McKinley who has to keep his sinful urges under control, who has to turn it off, because this is a curable curse, this is something he can recover from.
But Kevin's face... Earnest eyes glancing at him, those pink lips, the way he holds himself, like he takes pride in all he does, even now...
That, Connor thinks, is not something he can recover from.
I deserve those Hell dreams.
"...so, it doesn't look great now, but you just stir until it combines. Add sugar, if you want. Do you want sugar?"
Connor blinks. "Yes?" Kevin darts off to grab some, and Connor takes a moment to assess the black, flecked sludge forming in the bottom of his mug. "Why do you have to do that?"
"Makes it mix better, so it's a little less bitter," Kevin says, because Kevin knows the answer to everything, apparently. "And since we don't have a coffee machine, it's bitter as hell."
Connor nods, Kevin stirs, and it goes quiet for a bit.
Of course, Connor had asked Kevin a question, and he hasn't yet replied: "So, what are you doing down here so late?"
Kevin stirs a little bit more frantically, then stops altogether, leaning in a little to whisper, even though they're completely alone. "You'll keep a secret, right?" Kevin asks, and Connor nods. Kevin sighs, fills the mug up maybe two thirds with hot water, and starts stirring again. "Well, basically...for various reasons, Arnold and Nabalungi are up there."
Connor's brows jump up his head. "Nabalungi is up there? In here? Is that allowed? Does her father know? With Arnold? That's against-"
But the rules have stopped mattering here, and Kevin's face is so close to his own.
"Yeah, well, they told me they just wanted to do some Mormon sessions, 'one-on-one'," Kevin explains in a low voice, rolling his eyes. "I didn't want to ask, so I came down here. Figured maybe I could sleep on the couch..."
"You should've told me!" Connor said. "You know I have a spare bed right now."
Kevin's hand stills. "Oh, yeah," he says, like he'd forgotten and has only just now remembered. "Yeah, that's true. When does Poptarts return, actually?"
"Sometime next week, I think," Connor replies, accepting the coffee after Kevin adds some milk and pushes it towards him.
Kevin nods. "Just because I don't think Arnold's arrangement with Nabalungi is going to be a...one-time thing."
"That's alright!" Connor chirps. "You're free to use the spare bed so long as Elder Thomas isn't back. You can go ahead right now, if you want."
The smirk returns. "I want to see you taste that, first."
Connor glances at the coffee, looking perfectly innocuous. "Why, is it bad? You didn't do anything to it, did you?"
"I am shocked you would ever suggest such a thing," Kevin says, shaking his head. "Honestly, District Leader, I would've expected better from you." His voice has gone all teasing again.
Connor determines to ignore it, and takes a hesitant sip of the coffee. It's bitter, Kevin was right about that, tempered a little by the milk and sugar. Still, he holds the mug in front of him, his mouth twisting as he scrunches his nose. "Eugh!" he exclaims. "And people drink this daily?"
"Sure do," Kevin says. "You get used to the taste."
Connor takes another sip, but sadly there's no improvement. "I hope so," he mutters. "But this'll keep me awake, right?"
"Right."
Another drink, another mouthful of this bitter fluid that is really doing nothing for his tastebuds. He keeps drinking, though. Anything to stay awake, anything to stop the Hell dreams. Anything, Heavenly Father, can't you hear me?
"So, I think I'll just go use that spare bed of yours for a while, okay? What'll you do?" Kevin says.
"Do a bit of reading, I guess," Connor replies, feeling his back pocket for his Book of Mormon. "Maybe start drafting that letter. You sleep well, though."
"I will. I'll see you in the morning, alright?"
"Of course."
Kevin nods, and with that, he's gone, and Connor can breathe a sigh of relief, slumping against the counter and almost spilling some coffee. He always gets so tense around Kevin, so scared that he'll catch onto the fact that Connor's got all these terrible feelings for him, and he can't let Kevin know, he simply can't...
But gosh, it takes so much effort to hold it all in.
Better to have the coffee, then. Some reading of certain passages, to remind himself that what he's feeling is definitely not okay, to force him to turn it off...and Kevin's idea was a good one, really, about saying Arnold's outlandish tales were the only way to bring the villagers to the church. He's written half a dozen letters to the Mission President - he can figure something out by seven a.m., surely... Get that draft done, then talk to the Elders after breakfast about everyone's duties that today... It's Thursday tomorrow, so he's actually out today to do some creative stuff with the villagers, then after lunch... Yes, after lunch he can write the letter, and if Arnold is free, maybe they can talk some more about recruiting more villagers.
So he's set. No worries. No fears. No Kevin around, not right now, and no Hell dreams lurking around the corner. He's safe for the night.
He sits down on the sofa, drinks his awful coffee, and starts reading.
--
Kevin is terrible. Who made the list of duties for each day again? Oh, right, it was Connor. Why did he think that making the time he's out doing singing and dancing with some of the older villagers the same as when Kevin's out, playing soccer or whatever sports Ugandans play, with the kids? Terrible decision. Really horrible. Kevin gets sweaty and he's ridiculously competitive but there's one boy who's lost an arm that can do all sorts of tricks and he and Kevin team up on the rest of the kids and-
And then Connor obviously keeps listening to the Ugandans singing and collaborates with them, because he's outside for a reason, and that reason is not to watch Kevin at all, no matter how fit he looks or how loudly he cheers, because that is- bad, wrong, really, really, terrible, Connor is really terrible and he should be singing! So he sings.
The peace lasts only five days, in the end. He starts drinking coffee at all hours of the day, and it only lasts five days.
He reads the Book of Mormon, even the Book of Arnold, he uses the strategies he learnt at his therapy, and even recites the laws against same-sex couples that exist in Uganda, for five days. He thinks, bad, wrong, terrible, horrible, cursed, useless, worthless, not worthy of being a Latter Day Saint, not worthy of Heavenly Father or having my prayers answered, just a lying, dirty sinner who no one would be proud of.
He tries to turn it off.
Five days.
On the fifth, Nabalungi is back 'studying' with Arnold, and Kevin slips into Connor's room and catches him completely unawares.
"Oh!" he gasps, curling up on his bed a little even though he's still in uniform. "Oh, Kevin, I didn't realise you'd be, uh, joining me- I mean, staying here? Staying here, tonight."
Kevin quirks his head, rounding Connor's bed to reach Thomas'. "Nabalungi's back. It was a last-minute decision, or I would've warned you."
"Right, right..."
Five days. Eight, really, of not sleeping, of a listing of reflexes, of frequent stuttering and blurring vision.
He's getting a headache, too... He was just waiting for all the boys to go to bed, then he was going to sneak back downstairs for some more coffee. Now Kevin's appeared, and is stripping of his shirt and tie, only to reveal- no proper undergarment?
Well, of course, Connor shouldn't be surprised. Of all rules, this is the easiest to break, after The Fiasco. It's roasting in Uganda, all the time, and as far as Connor's aware, most of the elders have stopped wearing the undergarment, resorting to just boxers instead to reduce the heat.
As had Kevin. And now Kevin is bare-chested in front of him, slim but strong, must be all those years playing soccer or any others sports - Connor can imagine an overachiever like Kevin doing multiple - if Connor had to guess...
Not that he is even paying attention, though. He doesn't even care. No, he's staring at his bed, because that is an exciting blanket. Even still...Kevin's been tanning. He plays soccer with the kids every second day, whilst Connor's only out dancing twice a week. Maybe he's been taking his shirt off when Connor's not around. Maybe he knows Connor would stare, maybe he knows Connor is just bad wrong terrible horrible cursed, yes, yes, all of that. Mustn't forget, he really mustn't.
"Everything alright, McKinley?" Kevin asks, and thankfully when he looks up Kevin's under the sheets, shifted onto his side slightly to gaze at Connor.
"Yes, of course," he replies, a little lightly, listlessly, and even though he pastes on a bright smile Kevin picks up on it, and the way he's trying to shred the sheet beneath him with only his very short nails.
"You look tired," Kevin points out. "And you've seemed a little...off, lately. Shouldn't you change and go to sleep?"
An awful idea, truly terrible, really not something Connor should do... But maybe if he pretends, Kevin will go to sleep and he'll be able to slip down to get his coffee. If he's awake before Kevin, well, that's only natural.
So he nods, and murmurs, "Yes, yes, of course," and even though he thinks Kevin might still be watching, he probably isn't, would have no reason to, and he scrabbles at his tie until it comes undone and he drops it to the ground, unbuttoning his shirt and then his trousers before reaching up to get the light and slip beneath the sheets.
"Night, McKinley," Kevin says.
"Connor," he mumbles, as he lies back and starts digging his fingers into his thighs so he doesn't sleep.
"What? Oh, right. Connor, then. Sleep well."
"You too, Kevin." He turns on his side, away from Kevin, and tries scratching his arm, instead.
He just has to wait for Kevin's breathing to even out, for him to stop twisting and turning in the sheets, for him to stop muttering "fuck" every few minutes as he tries to get comfortable... It really won't be long... Connor can hold out that long, he just has to...keep thinking...keep thinking...
About what, exactly...?
--
He's punished for thinking he could escape the Hell dreams. Like Lucifer has a checklist, or a roll call, and realised he wasn't ticking Connor off for the past eight nights. Of course he's punished.
It's worse than he remembers - but even with all the coffee, his brain's been getting a little fuzzy around the edges, so maybe he just isn't remembering it right.
The dark red, the burning flames, every kind of weapon that can cause every kind of torment... Even Kevin appears, as though to remind him of why, exactly he deserves this.
There's lashing and lynching and bleeding to death, every kind of death imaginable, hands all over him to remind him why he's so sinful, then that voice booming and echoing and so loud that tells him he can never leave, that he's trapped, and it's all his fault, that he's abandoned Heavenly Father and the Latter Day Saints, and he should be ashamed. That he should be disgusted by himself. That he should just die.
He's not really sure why he wakes up, eventually - he just remembers pain, all sorts of it: aching, and piercing, and pinpricks, and beatings. He remembers being on his stomach, and he thinks maybe his fingers are being broken and cut off one at a time, and then there's someone at his back and he's experiencing a pain unmeasurable and previously unknown, and then he's screaming and crying and awake.
Just like that.
--
He wishes he stayed awake, before the dream. Wishes he'd stayed asleep, if only so that he doesn't have to endure the aftermath. There's something in those few seconds where he's not quite awake, not oriented to his surroundings, but he can hear shouting and then a door slamming and all his eyes can see is red red red blood and fire everywhere, and all he can hear is that voice yelling bad wrong terrible horrible cursed...
"Connor?"
...useless, worthless, lying dirty sinner...
"Connor?"
He should've tried harder; should've done better in therapy; should've turned it off, why couldn't he turn it off? Why, when it comes to Kevin Price, does he just get stuck?
"Connor!"
Kevin Price, who is kneeling by Connor's bed, still just in his boxers, eyes wide and sad as a hand rests on Connor's knee through the sheets.
His hands are a little blurred, and Connor's cheeks a little wet, and, oh...yes, those do feel like tears, and he rubs his eyes frantically. How embarrassing. How weak.
"Connor," again, "it's alright."
Oh no, Kevin Price, it's the furthest thing, it really is, nothing's ever going to be alright again because-
"Because what?" Kevin presses, and Connor blinks, unaware that he'd spoken allowed.
"Nothing," he whispers, or croaks, because his voice is hoarse and- he wasn't really screaming, was he?
"Yeah, actually," Kevin says, and oh, there it is again. "Woke almost everyone up."
"Everyone?" he echoes, eyes going wide. "I... Oh, oh gosh, I-" The tears can't be dammed; his voice hitches and they tumble free, dripping down his cheeks and he can't do a darn thing to stop them. "I'm their leader, I shouldn't be-" He shouldn't be, full stop. He's unworthy, truly unworthy of the title, unworthy of any forgiveness the Church has to offer.
And it won't forgive him for this.
Kevin's hand is too warm on his knee.
He swipes again at the tears, pretends his hands aren't trembling, pretends his entire being isn't shaking into pieces. He's still so tired. "I just need to- turn it off, that's all, just turn it off, I have to-" He takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes, curling his hands into fists. Turn it off. He's done it dozens of times before, it shouldn't be so hard. And maybe he'd said he'd let all his feelings out when Kevin had convinced all the elders to stay in Uganda but- that had been stupid, too hasty of him, he hadn't been thinking. You don't let it out, not if the 'it' is gay feelings. Especially is they're gay feelings towards a missionary, a friend.
At least, that's what they told him. In Church, and in Hell. Maybe Kevin said it was okay, but he's only one person - Arnold hasn't said anything, and the other missionaries haven't said anything, and-
He opens his eyes again. Kevin's brows are pulled up in the centre, his lips downturned, like he's genuinely upset by the way Connor's behaving.
Which is ridiculous. People don't care about Connor, not Kevin, not the Church, not even his own parents, despite all those therapy sessions. But Kevin won't stop staring, and he's squeezing Connor's knee, and he just, he has no idea, has he? He's had, what, two dreams, was it? And Connor's had too many to even count, so many atrocities and tortures and agonies that Kevin can't even imagine, he bets, and it's just-
"It's not fair," he ends up saying. The tears are- he needs to stop that. Right now.
"You're right," Kevin says, pushing Connor's legs to the side so he can sit on the edge of the bed, his face much closer to Connor's now that he's sat up against the headboard. "It isn't fair, that you have to deal with these kinds of dreams nightly because of something you can't control."
Connor blinks. "Kevin, you don't-"
"Just- just give me a minute, okay? Because I've been talking to Arnold about this... I've been talking to a lot of people, actually, about this- kind of thing. All the elders know you have hell dreams every night. And the villagers- I mean, if Arnold made up something, they'd be happy to ignore the law, I bet."
"You have no idea-"
"A minute, okay? And you said you weren't sleeping because of insomnia, but McKin- Connor, we're not blind. We saw you were tired, saw you were drinking coffee all the time even though you swore you wouldn't break a single rule. You were just...trying to avoid the Hell dreams, weren't you?" His eyes are so sincere Connor doesn't think he can look away. And what he's saying... He can't reply past the lump in his throat, can't do anything much but nod, a little.
"How are the dreams so bad you'd actively stop sleeping to avoid them?"
"You don't know," Connor mutters. "What they d-do to me, what they say- and it's true, Kevin, it's all true because I'm just a useless, worthless-"
"Lying dirty sinner?" Kevin finishes, raising his brows and his eyes looking sadder than Connor's ever seen. Connor stares, because he hadn't- surely had hadn't said all that out loud- "You know that's not true, Connor. You're incredible."
He shakes his head. "I can't be, I can't, I- look at me, I'm- if I were 'incredible', if Heavenly Father was proud of me, he would- he would rid me of this curse-"
"It's not a curse, Connor! It's just the way you are. It's nothing to be ashamed of!"
"But it is! It's unnatural, an abomination, what's the point of being a Mormon if I can't- if I can't get married and have Mormon children? Then what have I done?"
Kevin grabs one of Connor's hands, a little damp with tears, and clutches it in both his palms. "You've helped so many of the villagers here, Connor. They love you. You know, Nabalungi talks about you a lot, about how much easier it is to plan a play now that you're alongside her. She says you're an incredible dancer, says that she's learnt so much from you. And all the other elders say you're a great person to go to for advice, and that you're always up for a good conversation, despite how much work you do. They all love you. They want you happy. Healthy. And so do I."
This is all too unreal. It must be some part of the dream, considering Kevin's still holding his hand and talking like Connor helped shape the galaxy or something. It's impossible. It doesn't make sense.
"No..." he says at length. "No, I don't deserve it. Heavenly Father, he knows, he-"
"He's making you suffer for no reason. Who created you, Connor? Who decided who you would be?"
Connor frowns. "W-well, Heavenly Father, of course."
"Then why would he make you like this, if only to punish you for it? What's the sense in that? Heavenly Father is proud of each and every one of his creations. Maybe," Kevin says, voice getting harder, "maybe it's us screwing it up, huh? The ones getting it wrong. Maybe people are just using the Book of Mormon as an excuse to hate and ignore homosexuality, don't you think? And Heavenly Father knows it's okay, but we're the ones mixing the messages up. And it's fine."
"But... But the Church says..."
"What if the Church is wrong, Connor? Heavenly Father wouldn't judge you for being yourself, not if he intended you to be like that. Only the people would judge you, and most of everyone's a complete idiot, anyway. I know I am."
"You're not!" Connor counters instantly. "You're the smartest person I know!"
"Yeah, and I thought I could convince General Buttfucking Naked to back off on my own."
Connor's positively scandalised. "Kevin!"
He waves his hand. "We're getting off-topic. Loads of people are actually gay, you know. A lot of countries are legalising same-sex marriage. Maybe it's just the Church that's fallen behind, you know? Maybe soon it will accept-"
"That's impossible," Connor whispers. "The Church would never-"
"But what if it did? What if it realised it wasn't your fault at all, huh?"
"...My parents would still hate me."
"But Heavenly Father doesn't. The elders, the villagers don't. I don't."
Connor raises his head from where he's been staring at his bed sheets. "Why do you even care so much, Kevin?"
He gives a wry smile. "Maybe I'm a little personally invested in the outcome of this conversation." And what does that mean? "Most of all, though, I just want you to be happy with yourself. To stop having these dreams, and maybe you can sleep a night through, you know? Sleep deprivation doesn't get anyone anywhere."
"I was doing just fine."
"Yesterday I asked you for some water and you just handed me an empty glass."
Connor can vaguely recall. He'd been completely unaware at the time. "I was distracted."
"No, you were exhausted. You shouldn't have to torture yourself like this."
Connor ignores that. "Say that you're right... That Heavenly Father doesn't care that I'm- this way. Even so, the Church won't have it; if they find out, they could excommunicate me! And not to mention my parents-"
"The Church will realise it's wrong sooner or later," Kevin promises. "And family sticks together no matter what, right?"
Connor shakes his head. "Not mine. You don't know what my father says about- well, anyway."
Kevin cocks his head. "What does your father say, Connor?"
"Nothing, nothing." Kevin's eyes are hard, though, his mouth a thin line, so Connor sighs and admits, "Just- when I was young. And I still- I didn't know what people thought- you know, I like dancing, and the colour pink, and- and my father just...talked about how it was all girly stuff, and he didn't want his only son turning into a p-p-pu-" He shakes his head again, harder. "I- I tried, I really did, I quit dancing and stopped buying pink things and I turned it off, but he never- he just...kept saying things, like he was always trying to remind me that I'd never really be accepted. Not by him. Not even by Mom, I bet."
Kevin's biting his lip, squeezing Connor's hand. "I'm sorry," he says, and maybe it's a meaningless platitude but he sounds like he means it, and oh gosh, Connor's eyes are getting wet again. "That's awful. You didn't deserve that."
"And I... I mean, they found out eventually. They sent me to some kind of conversion therapy, and it was terrible, and they told me, they said, if you can't become straight, just- push the gay- it down, turn it off, ignore it and pretend. So I did! For all my life! And now...what am I supposed to do? If I come out, the Church will kick me out, my family will disown me- and you won't even be around! You'll be in BYU, being a Super Mormon and getting married..."
Kevin snorts. "Not gonna happen. At least, not the Super Mormon part. I barely believe in it all, really. I'll stick with you if I can, okay? And we don't have to deal with the Church until our mission ends, right? Anything could happen between now and then. And Arnold will definitely say being gay is okay. And- do you have any family who might be okay with you?"
Connor shrugs. "An older and a younger sister. Anna and Becky... Anna's married already, you know. She arranged her wedding so I'd be able to go before I left for my mission. I think...she felt bad for me, you know? For not being 'normal'. For being...unacceptable. And Becky...I mean, she's fifteen. She's a bit rebellious, I guess, she was really into emo music and dark clothes when I left. So maybe... Maybe..."
"You could just tell Anna, then, to start with," Kevin suggests. "See if you can stay at her's before you go to college. Then when you're there, you'll be fine. Everyone always says they find their people in college."
'Their' people... And what does that consist of, really? Would he join the theatre clubs? Would he be able to pursue dance and music like he'd always dreamed? Would there be other gay people out there, who accepted him? He wouldn't mind having a friend who understood what it was like. "I..." he mumbles. "I mean, I could try... There are so many things to do, but maybe... Maybe I could write to her. Maybe she would be okay with it. Maybe."
"Of course she will be," Kevin says in such a confident manner that Connor can't help but believe it. Kevin won't stop looking at him, his eyes brighter now that he's beginning to smile. Perhaps this is the true torture, to have Kevin so near, so supportive, but so far nonetheless. Perhaps Kevin would feel a little less supportive if he knew where Connor's gay feelings were going. "I am, and Arnold is, I bet, and the elders will be, too. Even the villagers, if you ever tell them. Even if you don't, Arnold will teach them about it, you know?" Kevin lets go of one hand to take Connor's free one, squeezing them both tightly as he says, "You're not going to be alone, Connor. You don't have to be scared anymore. You don't have to hide. You just have to...let all the feelings out." Connor feels the edges of his lips turning up despite himself. "Is that right?"
"Yeah," Connor murmurs, "that's what I said."
"Can you do that for me? Not even around the elders, or anyone yet. But just...accept yourself?"
Connor takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes. A tear that had been clinging to his bottom lashes finally falls. "Yes, I can," he says, aiming for strong but his voice still quivers. "I... I, Connor McKinley, am..." He has to squeeze Kevin's hands tight. "I'm gay."
"And it's not a bad thing," Kevin adds vehemently. "You know that, don't you?"
He shrugs. "In time, maybe."
"That's good enough for me."
He takes a few more deep breaths. The worst of the post-nightmare feelings have worn off, chased away by Kevin's warm presence. Admitting his homosexuality has taken quite a bit out of him, though - no matter grappling about what he could do in the future, if he were to come out.
Kevin says he wants to stick with Connor, though. That's the one part that really doesn't make sense, in this whole sea of things that don't make sense. Kevin seems to finally have formed a strong bond with Arnold - it would make sense that those two would go to whatever college they pick together. Although honestly, it's getting to the point where Connor can't imagine Arnold anywhere without Nabalungi, so if he'll even leave Uganda for very long is a big question mark, too.
But these are questions to ignore for another eighteen months, at least. They still have so much left to do on their mission to help the villagers before they can focus on themselves.
"Kevin," Connor says just as Kevin loosens his grip on Connor's hands. Now that the conversation's lulled, Kevin's cheeks have started heating up, too, and he's almost bashful when he glances at Connor again.
"Yeah?"
"When you were talking about being...personally invested...what did you mean?"
Kevin's cheeks heat up a big quicker, and he shrugs. "Uh, well, you see..." How the tables have turned, Connor thinks. The second they're not talking about his problems, Kevin loses his confidence. "Well, you think you're the only one struggling with- this sort of thing, but I can, uh...assure you that you are not."
This is something incredible. Something miraculous. Connor doesn't want to leap to conclusions, but his heart's pounding and he asks, "So...you're gay, too?"
"No," Kevin replies quickly, and Connor's heart drops, but then he adds, "but I think I'm... The word's bisexual? So...girls and guys...?" Connor raises his brows. "Yeah, it's a new thing for me, too."
Connor tries to sound composed. "That's great to hear, actually," he says, "but, um, how...?"
"How does it tie in? Right. Well. Suppose there's a gay Mormon I...like, and who I hope likes me back, but is too trapped in their armoured closet to do anything. So maybe...helping you realise being gay is okay was selfish on my part, but- it's not like I'm doing it just to get in your pants, okay?" Connor hopes his cheeks aren't as red as his hair, but he can't help it if he's a little shaken by what Kevin's saying. Shaken and...well, hopeful. Something incredible, indeed. "I- I really do want to see you happy, Connor, because watching you constantly trying to repress yourself, and depriving yourself of sleep, and then having to endure those Hell dreams- it's awful. And you really don't deserve it. You deserve to be happy." He pauses, not meeting Connor's wide eyes, and then adds, "And it just so happens that I think that I could make you happy. But that's- really not important."
Connor's a little stuck on something. "You... You like me. You actually like me."
Kevin tilts his head to the side a little. "Um. Yes? But that's not important, what's important is that-"
"I'm happy." His voice has gone embarrassingly soft, but he's so taken aback that this is actually falling into place for him that he can't help it. "I- I get it. And- thank you, Kevin, you have no idea- and- you're right- about everything, of course, but also-" One of Kevin's hands releases the death grip on Connor's, and very tentatively Kevin brushes his fingers against Connor's cheekbones. Which only serves to fluster him more, Heavenly Father help him. "Also," he whispers, "about how, um... How you could make me happy." He looks right in Kevin's eyes, which are embarrassed and intrigued and cautious and bright, and Connor confesses, "You already do."
Kevin cups Connor's face with the one hand. "You make me happy, too," Kevin admits. "That is, when you're not torturing yourself with guilt."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologise. It's not your fault. It's the Church and all the homophobes who believe that bullshit's fault, not yours. Never yours. You believe me?"
"I believe in you, if that's enough."
"Of course that's enough. It's enough, for me, to be with you here, right now."
Connor chokes a laugh, and tries to go for witty to mask how touched he is. "I don't want you getting sappy on me, Kevin. Only one of us is allowed to cry tonight."
Kevin's eyes go sad again, though. "Neither of us should have to cry tonight," he says. Pressing a little closer, brushing Connor's cheekbone with his thumb, he adds, "But if you want to cry- or, or let all the feelings out, you know, you can. I won't judge."
How bizarre. Connor's lived his entire life based on how people may judge him. But alas... "No," he says. "I...think I've cried enough, for tonight. But, uh...thank you...?"
"No need," Kevin assures. "You must be tired; we can sort everything out tomorrow, maybe?"
"Tomorrow..." Connor muses, trying to remember who has what duty, but he's not entirely sure what day it even is.
"Tuesday," Kevin says. "I'll just come by after soccer, yeah?"
"Yeah... Yes, that's fine. That's- sure."
Kevin nods, and reaches up to turn out the light. "Goodnight, Connor."
"Night," Connor murmurs.
Sleep, of course, does not come easy, even though Connor is exhausted. His Hell dream is too recent in his memory, and when he falls close to sleep a thread of that dream unspools itself in his thoughts and he remembers why he was trying to avoid sleeping in the first place. Not to mention, he has a lot to think about regarding that conversation with Kevin. The Church eventually coming to accept homosexuality? Connor accepting himself? Kevin accepting him - and liking him?
Kevin's hand, on his face, warm and patchily rough, like it was once soft but callouses as he spends more time in Uganda. (Connor, of course, brought a vat of hand cream with him to avoid this very problem.) Kevin sitting so close, Kevin more or less saying he...'wanted to get into Connor's pants'... Which is something that is concerning, but also...um... Well, Connor wouldn't be adverse, to say the least.
Then the end of the Hell dream smacks him in the face, and he nearly bolts upright again. As it is, he gasps, lifting his head from his pillow to look around and ascertain he is still in his room in the missionaries' hut.
"...Connor?" Kevin mumbles, halfway to sleep himself.
"S-sorry," he replies, as usual. "I, um- don't mind me." He lays back down again.
Kevin rolls so they're face to face. "Can't sleep?"
"I- I can, I will, I just- the dream-" He shuts his eyes, but Hell burning and his entire body in agony is all he can think of. "It's stuck in my head."
Kevin frowns. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Kevin holding him would be nice, or a kiss on the forehead to stop the demons entering Connor's mind, but that's far too-
"Well. If you could just hold my hand for a bit, maybe then..." He bites his lip, fearful of sounding foolish, but Kevin does as asked, their arms hanging down the slim gap between their beds.
Connor has no trouble falling asleep after that, and not one single Hell dream appears by the time he awakens a little later than he would've liked.
Kevin's smile, that morning, is the best combination of smug and joyful.
--
For three nights, Kevin sleeps in Connor's room, holding hands across the crack between the beds. Connor sleeps soundly, full of energy and optimism for the day ahead, proseltysing and teaching with reinforced vigour. He and Kevin haven't really progressed further than holding hands - sometimes they sit down, though, and Connor has to ask, "But do you really like me?" And then Kevin finally explains what led to the revelation and his own feelings and it's actually all rather flattering. Connor apparently owes rather a lot to his pink sequinned waistcoat.
Elder Thomas does, however, return. Connor's not sure how to deal with it - there's no legitimate reason for why Kevin should stay in his room, and no one but Elder Cunningham knew, anyway.
Elder Thomas flew in overnight, so he arrives by the time most elders wake up - considerably later than what it used to be. Connor was usually an earlybird, but now that he's actually sleeping again he ends up waking up late, unless Kevin nudges him first (which is rare).
So Connor wakes up rather later than usual, later than the rest of the elders, and he ends up walking in on them all crowded round Elder Thomas and discussing something, hushing the moment Connor enters the room.
"Elders?" he says, taking in the scene. Kevin's face to face with Elder Thomas, Elder Cunningham, as always, by his side. The other elders are scattered around the trio; a few had been nodding as Connor approached, others looking like they wanted to interject.
"Hello, Elder McKinley," they all chime back. Though most of them have started calling each other by their first names, Connor just can't quite shake the habit, and so all of them, bar Kevin, in private, still call him by his title.
"We were just welcoming Poptarts back!" Elder Michaels says, smiling.
Elder Thomas waves, and Connor says, "Hi, Elder Thomas. You again have my condolences, though I at least hope your trip was pleasant...?"
"Could have been worse," he shrugs. He then looks at all the elders, lifts his chin, and adds, "It was nice to come back and hear that your Hell dreams have stopped, though."
Connor freezes. A few other Elders turn to Elder Thomas, shaking their heads and hissing we weren't going to say anything!, whilst others are obviously waiting for Connor's reaction. Kevin shoots a look at Elder Thomas, and then stares at Connor too, and Elder Cunningham glances at Kevin and follows his lead.
"I... I unaware you all knew about them," he says, though apparently his recovery is weak as the elders all start frowning.
"You told us," Elder Thomas replies, "that night, when you got that call from the Zone Leader. And besides, it's not as if..." He stops, looking lost, and the other elders start nodding.
"We could hear you, sometimes," Elder Church explains, and Connor's eyes go wide. "Crying, or- well, you sounded like you were in pain..."
"And then it all stopped!" chimes in Elder Neeley. "Which we thought was a good thing, except you started walking around like a living zombie-"
"Drinking coffee!" adds Elder Davis.
"-so it wasn't difficult to realise you were just...avoiding sleeping. Then when Kevin started voicing his concern, we realised it was serious."
The elders nod again, and Kevin frowns for a second at them.
"Oh, I, uh-"
"So we started to talking to Arnold," Elder Davis says, "about our concerns, hoping he could enlighten us. And he said that even though you said you were going to let your feelings out, you might still be turning it off, and just hiding it."
"Like when Briggum Young said he had faith, but he was actually doubting Heavenly Father's existence after Joseph Smith's death, and he just didn't tell anyone!" Elder Michaels says, and Arnold grins.
"He also said it would be rude to ask though, you know?" Elder Church continues. "Then he said Kevin was getting friendly with you, and we should talk to him. So we did, and he agreed with Arnold, but, like...none of us knew how to help you, right?"
"But then it got worse," Elder Neeley says. "Because that night we were all woken up by you screaming bloody murder at four a.m. or something, remember?"
Connor drops his gaze, unwilling to remember the terrible dream that had woken him up - nor what happened after, which is beginning to bring an awful blush to his cheeks.
"But when we got to your room, Kevin was already there," Elder Davis says, and a few elders start grinning and raising their eyebrows repeatedly at Kevin, who shrugs. "He said he would handle it. Then the next day he said you fell asleep and didn't have any hell dreams."
"And then you didn't the day after that, and the day after that..."
"So we figured we'd wait til Poptarts come back, and we could all get together and figure this out. Except then-"
"-then Kevin comes over-"
"-starts telling us-"
"-in the same room!"
"-you know, at first I thought-"
"-at least you weren't sharing a bed-"
"-but sharing a room without telling anyone?"
"I get it!" Connor shouts above the commotions, and the elders silence, glancing at each other. "I get it, okay. But...for reasons I cannot share...Kevin couldn't stay with Arnold that night, and I had a spare bed. It made sense... And when I woke up, he talked me through everything and made me feel better, and I... I guess having him in the same room is...comforting?"
He decides to axe the hand-holding and mutual-crushing from the story. The elders seem shocked enough by the room change.
"I get it, too," Elder Thomas finally says. "I knew you struggled with Hell dreams; ever since we started sharing a room, you always woke me up in the middle of the night, by crying, or...sometimes you'd say things- and I knew it was bad, but everyone always said turn it off so I figured we should all stick to that rule. Then Arnold said that was bad, but I had to leave so I couldn't talk to you about it- but if staying with Kevin is good for you, then he can stay there, and I'll room with Arnold. It'll be good."
"You... You'd do that?" Connor asks, a little amazed that Elder Thomas cares so deeply about his wellbeing; that all of them do.
"'Course I would! I'm your companion, even if we won't be sharing a room." Elder Thomas beams, and Connor smiles warmly.
"Well...what about you, Elder Cunningham? I know you and K- Elder Price are very close."
Arnold pats Kevin's back with a grin. "I still have him the rest of the day," he says, like they're parents discussing custody of their child. "Besides, we've been talking about it since that night you woke up."
Connor blinks, unaware. Then again, Elder Cunningham and Kevin's friendship had strengthened greatly during their first week in Uganda. Elder Cunningham has good fun cheerleading for Kevin during his soccer games, for example, whilst Kevin does more or less the same when Elder Cunningham discusses the Book of Arnold with the villagers.
"I hope you don't mind," Kevin finally adds, looking a bit sheepish, but with hopeful eyes.
"I'm, uh, a bit overwhelmed," Connor admits. "But...these past few days have been...some of the best I've had here. And I- the fact that you'd be willing to go to such lengths for me is just-"
"Don't worry about it," Kevin says, smiling as he moves towards Connor.
"It's what brothers do," adds Elder Thomas, turning to talk to Arnold. The other elders watch for a moment, then shrug and start their own conversations as Kevin reaches Connor.
"Not what you were expecting when you woke up, huh?" he asks as Connor watches the elders all carry on as normal, still a little nonplussed by how well they're taking everything.
"Not what I was expecting, period," Connor says. "Everyone seems- fine, with everything, but- they all knew I was turning off the, um, gay thoughts, so they must have known the nightmares were about them, but...they still wanted to stop the nightmares. Does that mean- they don't care? Or is it just-"
"It's that they don't care, definitely," Kevin says. "I may have told them...other things, about myself, and they were totally cool with it. They actually said it was nice, that there was someone a little like you here, to help you with your identity and all."
"They said that?"
"Yeah. Like they said, they've been worried. I know you've been trapped in whatever self-loathing bullshit the Church has fed you, but the other guys here actually do love and care about you. You're their leader, after all. Who knows where they'd be without you."
Connor starts searching for a reply - probably better off seems like a good one - but Kevin slides a little closer and takes his hand. "And if these guys are cool with it, the villagers probably will be, too...and then maybe we can..." He grins, leering a bit, and Connor cocks his head to the side.
"What, start dating? Here?"
Kevin has some of the most ridiculously hopeful puppy eyes Connor's ever seen. "Yes?"
Connor sighs, hoping that masks the way he's beginning to smile. "We'll see."
As it turns out, the villagers don't have any problems with people being gay, or bi, or anything like that - not after Arnold explains that Joseph Smith and Briggum Young were actually secret lovers, and it was the strength of their gay love that eventually led Briggum to Salt Lake City.
Connor and Kevin are a little less discreet about their relationship after that.