SomeWhere On... (BXB)

EXTRA: ...Monroe Avenue

"But you're sure I can meet them?" Murph asks for the thousandth time. "You're really really sure?"

I blink. "Do you want me to text Gavin and tell him you're not coming in August?"

"N-no!" he shouts, and somewhere downstairs, his aunt shushes him. We can hear it. "I'm just...excited." Murph grins.

I roll my eyes and smirk. "Then what're you nervous about?"

He doesn't answer. Or he doesn't hear me. Instead, Murph asks, "Can you look at these for me?" He hands me a collection of floor plan drawings. When I look to him for explanation, Murph shrugs and says, "I need something to do when the show's going on."

"Huh," is all I say.

It's not what Murph wants to hear, because he then asks, "Are these...good?"

I look at him and I realise he's asking for a specific answer. "Yeah," I say.

I don't know. I don't regularly look at floor plans. So I have nothing to go off of. Like, I can tell what rooms are which. Kinda. If he wrote them in, I'd be more sure. I'm just looking at weird boxes with numbers on each side, dotted lines and circles on graph paper.

I toss them to the side and kiss his forehead. "I like them." I take his hand. "Now come on, dummy. Dinner's about to start."

He squeezes my hand. "I am dumb."

And this, for some reason, jars me.

I let go of his hand. "I...you're not actually dumb, Murph."

He looks at me curiously. "But I lack basic social awareness. I'm dumb."

My eyes're scanning him. I don't know what to do anymore. "Why're you saying this now?"

He closes his eyes and smiles. "Because it doesn't make sense for me to keep denying it." He looks down and plays with his hands. "I mean, I am dumb. I lack social awareness, and – "

"Shut your fucking mouth, Murph."

Murph barely bats an eyelash. "I don't know why you're angry. You call me dumb more than anyone else," he points out.

"I-I'll stop."

"You won't," he says, shaking his head. "You've called me dumb since we first met." Murph shrugs. "Why stop now?"

I step closer to him. My stomach's twisting. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because..." He takes my hands. "...everyone says it. Friends from high school. You. Elizabeth. Adrian said it, too. And it just doesn't make sense for me to ignore it anymore." Murph sighs, a wary smile on his face. "If everyone's saying it, is it a lie you're ignoring, or a truth you refuse to accept?" He inhales, as if to make a grand announcement.

But I know it's just wrong.

It's wrong to let him do this. It's wrong to have let myself do this. He's literally the smartest person I know.

"I'm d – "

My hand's over his mouth, and I'm fucking raging. "Say it again. Say it the fuck again." Murph doesn't say anything, and I continue, "You are not stupid. You're not dumb. Stupid people don't spend half their lives researching everything. And dumb people don't acknowledge their own faults as easily as you do. They deny them." I lean forward, my hands on his shoulders. "And I'm sorry if I made you feel like you're stupid. You're not. You're...so fucking smart." My hands move again, this time to his face. "I love you. God, I'm so fucking sorry, Murph." I tip my forehead towards his, and it's cold. "Please. I'm sorry."

He blinks and pulls away. "Okay." He smiles and moves past me.

And I'm left confused. "Wh...you're okay again?"

Murph slowly turns to me and smiles. "Oh. Yeah, I was just getting tired of hearing you call me dumb." He purses his lips and winks at me. "The better question is: how do you feel?"

And then it hits me.

Murph's grinning, and it isn't cute.

It's fucking maniacal.

"I could kill you for that," is all I say.

"You won't." Murph bobs his head for a moment. "I like you too much to be tried for murder."

MURPH YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO BE OBLIVIOUS AGAIN LIKE THAT.

"You could've asked me to stop," I say.

"I wanted to test out some studies I read on reverse psychology," Murph tells me. "And I've had a working theory on name-calling that...kind of blew up in my face."

"Why didn't you just tell me to stop?"

He shrugs and looks at me, this melancholic look in his eyes. "How would you feel if I kept calling you a fuckup?"

Valid point.

But god dammit.

Fucking manipulation. By my oblivious boyfriend.

And fucking hell, I don't know how he learned to do that but I want him now.

He starts going for the bedroom door, but I grab him. "Where're you going?"

"D...downstairs?" he asks.

I smirk. "Nah, luv. You got some shit to answer to." I throw him over my shoulder. He's heavy, but it's for the dramatic effect. And I think he gets it when I throw him on the bed. "Pup's got teeth, huh?" I ask, leaning forward to kiss him.

"Is that my new nickname?" he asks, giggling as I kiss his neck.

"Do you like it?"

"Maybe," he whispers as my hand trails up his stomach.

And then his fucking stomach growls.

Like, I'm certain his aunt downstairs hears it.

And I break out laughing. "Murph!"

He goes red. "I-I'm sorry!"

But I can't stop. My boyfriend somehow managed to kill the mood faster than he set it, all without realising he did it in the first place.

And in my head, it's so fucking hilarious.

His aunt's the one who bursts in and shouts, "I caulled you oll three toimes! Dinnuh's ready." She turns and stops at the stairs, probably waiting for us to follow.

Murph's face has gone red. Super red. Redder than normal. I'm about to ask why, but he beats me to the punch – "That's your laugh?"

I nod.

He gasps. Or inhales air. I'm not sure. "That was the most amazing thing ever." Murph leans forward and whispers, "And we can finish that later, okay?"

I smirk. "I'm okay with that, pup."

Murph physically convulses and goes redder. He jumps up from the bed and follows his aunt's footsteps down the stairs.

I like his new nickname.