Laughter kept errupting from both men in the room, beer bottles littering the table between them. Steve was sprawled out on the couch, one leg hanging off, the other curled on one of the couch arms. His two cats were curled next to him, and Tango couldn't help but stare at the site for a moment. He would blame it on being drunk later, but he wanted nothing more than to act like one of the cats and just go curl up with Steve. It was stupid, of course, and not something he would ever do nor voice wanting to do so, but it was there.
Steve stired finally, still chuckling as he sat up on the edge of the couch. Tango watched him survey the room, a wide grin still spread along his own lips.
"Steve, man, what the fuck are you doin? Just lay down, you'll be passed out soon anyway!"
The look he got in reply stilled his complaints, and he simply raised his hands in defeat. Instead of continuing to question his friend, and very drunk one at that, he watched quietly from the chair as he stood. The camera that got shoved into his hand made his eyebrows quirk though, and he couldn't hold his tongue any longer.
"Are we making a movie? Cause I don't look presentable, dude. I don't know where the fuck my hat went to"
He laughed again, his mind fuzzy as he opened the LCD screen on the small handheld, turning on the camera itself. He continued to watch Steve, this time through the view finder. He left the room for a moment, and Tango was tempted to stand up and follow, to see what he was doing. In fact, he was already half way out of the chair by the time Steve came back, holding his worn guitar. His lips pulled up wide as he trained the camera on Steve as he sat on the couch, strumming idly on the strings.
"Are you recording, Tango?"
"No, not yet. One sec... There we go! Yeah, we're going"
He watched as Steve finally looked up, straight into the camera, and grinned.
"Tango, this is a mexican medaly, for you. Because when I look at you, I feel mexican."
The song that followed was clearly one that would be normal to hear in Mexico, or even over the speakers at the local Mexican Kitchen, and it made Tango laugh. He had to bite down on his lip to stop from doing so, not wanting to interuppt nor get the sound across on the video. When Steve made the cutting motion, his mouthing becoming noticable with the last two words - 'fucking shit'. Tango flipped the camera off, and finally let himself fall back into the chair, shaking with laughter.
"Dude. This is so getting put up on Myspace."
The pounding behind Tango's eyes was loud. That was how he knew he had drank too much too fast. He hadn't even slept, it hadn't even been two hours since he took that first large swallow of liqure, but it was already giving him a headache. A few bottles of it could do that, especially if it was chugged. He had just wanted to forget the day, the last few days, and pass out. Luck wasn't on his side today it seemed, though. Even after three bottles of alcohol, he was stil awake - true, he was throwing up and sore and near tears, but he was still awake and could still remember everything.
The phone that had kept buzzing was thrown across the small bathroom already. The persistant ringing was just making his headache worse. Wasn't it bad enough that he was here alone? Of course, that was why he was drinking anyway.
One day. Steve had given them, as a couple, a single fucking day before he left and ran away with his tail tucked between his legs. What the fuck? Didn't Tango deserve more than that? And better yet, didn't he deserve a fucking goodbye? No. All he got was a note that he could do better and that Steve loved him.
What had he said in return on Steve's voicemail?
"Fuck You."
Because he hated lies. Steve couldn't just say he loved him because he was leaving and expect it to make Tango feel better. If anything, it just made the knife dig deeper into his side and chest. Forget that they had only been together a day. He had loved Steve for a year now, and hearing that lie on top of everything else just hurt. It stung and it festered and he just couldn't handle it.
It was because of that lie, of the fact that the male had showed him no curtesy, no respect that he couldn't believe the call that had ended fifteen minutes ago. He doubted Steve would come back, would be there for him. He couldn't buy it, not now. Maybe he was just stubborn, because god knew they both were, but he didn't want to have hope. Hope only led to regret and more hurt. Hope only led to nothing more than an overactive imagination.
"Tango, I'm coming in there, even if I have to kick the door down. So unless you want to have to pay for a new one, come open this."
His eyes flew open, his gaze instantly going to the bathroom door. N-no.. Surely he was asleep now. He had fallen asleep and not realized it. The sound of knocking on the door was loud, and he winced against the migrane that was forming behind his eyes. If it was a dream... no, his mind wouldn't do this to him, not even when he was asleep. It wasn't that cruel to him, no matter how often he even pretended it was.
Before Tango could even register what he was doing, he slid on his ass across the floor, his hand shaking as he raised to undo the lock on the door. He didn't give Steve the chance tos ee him there, though. No, he quickly shifted back, leaning against the cold tub, his face in his hands. The quiet that presented itself after the door clicked open.. well, it wasn't a settling silence, but somehow, it didn't unnerve him either. The sudden warmth against his side? Now that made Tango wince, and he cringed away from Steve's body pressed against his side.
"No, come on, I came back for you, Tango. Come here."
The arm that drapped across his shoulders, he couldn't tell if it moved him or if he had moved himself, but Tango was suddenly pressed against Steve's side. His hand had raised, gripping into the male's hoodie, his face pressed into his shoulder. Shudders ran down his body, and the tears that fell got absorbed in the fabric against his cheeks. He wasn't supposed to cry, damn it! This wasn't... no. He was supposed to be strong.
"I can't believe I said I'd lay ourl ove on the ground. But it doesn't matter cause I've made it up, forgive me now..."
The words of the song started to blur together. How was it that as soon as Steve started to sing, Tango felt drowsey? He would blame it on the alcohol later, but the words were pulling him into the darkeness of sleep.
"Every day I away, my souls inside out. Gotta be someway that I can make it up to you now..."
A quick yawn escaped his lips as he snuggled closer to Steve, drinking in the warmth of his body, the scent of his presence. His eyes closed for the final time that night, and the thickness of sleep envloped him kindly.
"I love you, Steve."
The music that played around them was quiet, but it was all Tango could hear at the moment. Neither him, nor Steve, were talking. It was like if they did, the moment would be ruined, and it was too special to do that. Even the voices around them didn't ruin it, they didn't register in his mind. The clinking of glasses, the chatter, the dull thrum of footsteps and breaths and all the other noises in the large building all slid into the darkness as he focused on the moment. On the song. On Steve.
The song playing wasn't one that would normally be heard at a wedding, but they didn't care. It wasn't like they were the most conventional couple anyway. It wasn't often you had two males get married. That wouldn't stop Steve and Tango though, oh no. The song had a special meaning for them both, it had a special place in their hearts. It was their first concert they went to as a couple. The song itself was one that Steve sang to him often enough, one that he could listen to and fall asleep to easier than anything else. It helped that Steve was singing it right now, which he predicted he would.
"The broken locks were a warning, you got inside my head. I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead..."
Tango smiled, glad for once that they weren't that much different in height. He let his head fall, resting on Steve's shoulder as they swayed to the music. Neither of them were the best of dancers, so they had agreed much ahead of time to not try and do the waltz for their first song. It wasn't them, anyway. A simple sway, something probably much more high school than anyone could pin point, and to a song unconventional. It fit them. It was them.
"Hey Steve?"
The hum he got in response resinated against his chest, the vibrate making him smile wide as he leaned forward, pressing his lips gently to the neck that was exposed before him. He didn't have to look up to see that the squeeze on his waist was accompanied with a smile. He knew Steve. Even if they hadn't dated long before this, before getting married, he had known him for five years. He knew his partner.
"Are you always going to sing to me?"
A chuckle swam around them, and he marveled at the sound. Today couldn't be better, he thought. Every thing was beautiful, and soft, and it was all just magical. So what if he was a bit of a sap today. He had a right to be.
"Yes Tango, I'm always going to sing to you. Always, baby."
He nodded against Steve's shoulder and closed his eyes again. They were getting to the end of their first dance song, and he wanted to just enjoy the end of it. He wanted to enjoy the arms around his waist; the voice singing in his ear; the pure love that radiated around them and seemed to crackle in the air like electricity.
"I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing. With a broken heart that's still beating. In the pain, there is healing. In your name, I find meaning..."
He knew that he could be irrational. Tango had always been that way, but he honest to god swore he had a reason this time. The wedding hadn't even been a year ago yet - they were just now approaching their ten month time as a married couple. It just seemed that more and more lately, they were arguing. Was this really how their years together were going to be spent? It was feeling more and more like that first night together.
"The walls between you and I, always pushing us apart, nothing left but scars fight after fight.."
The words were mumbled from his lips from where he sat, curled up on the recliner in the living room. Tango's eyes followed Steve as he shoved his arms into his jacket. He didn't have to wonder about whether or not his husband heard him, at least not if the glare he got was any indication. He was just sick of it all. All they did was argue. He wasn't going to do it tonight. If Steve wanted to go, fine, fuck it. He was done trying to get him to stay. No amount of glaring was going to get him to argue, to fight.
"Are you even going to ask where I'm going? Or do you not care?"
He shfited, looking through his eyelashes as Steve stopped near the chair, looking down at him. A small shrug was his intial response, and he was tempted to leave it at that.
"You're going to go talk to Alice. Just like every Friday. Why bother asking anymore. I'm tired of asking. All it does is make us fight. Go be with your friend, I'll be here when you get back."
The words were filled with defeat, and there was no real inflection in them. Yet, he knew that if one looked just below the surface, they would hear the hurt, the bitterness. Steve had told him over and over again that he and Alice were just friends, that they were catching up. That even though they were ex's, that didn't mean they had to be rude and evil to one another. Tango? He wouldn't agree. Something in his gut told him there was more to it, that it wasn't just two old friends chatting. He knew what that was like, after all. He and Ray were just old friends, they spoke and kept in touch. They didn't make sure to have weekly meetings though.
"Tango, I told you, we're -"
"I know Steve. You're 'just friends'. I heard you the last four weeks or whatever. I don't want to argue, okay? Just go have fun, go eat or whatever you do."
He could feel Steve staring at him still, and he itched under the gaze. His hand moved down, and he picked at the strings hanging off of his pajama pants. Tonight was going to suck. It was going to be a night of just watching whatever happened to be on TV and zoning out. Of an imagination going into hyperdrive about things it shouldn't be. There were times when he wanted to just break down, but he wouldn't, because there was ntohing going on. That's what he had to tell himself though.
"Fine. I love you, babe. I wish you would believe me."
The kiss that got pressed to his temple helped, but just enough. His eyes slid closed as he slowly felt the presence of the one most important person in his life slip away as the door to the front door clicked closed. Tango's eyes stayed closed as he let his head fall forward, his forehead resting on his bent knee, hand still tugging at the strings.
"The space between our calm and rage, started growing shorter, disappearing slowly day after day."
He breathed out finally, shaking off the song, arms wrapping around his legs as he willed himself to drift off. Maybe if he fell asleep, he'd wake up and Steve would already be home to hold him. Maybe.
There were no tears falling down his face. There was no red around his eyes. There was no shaking going through his body, and there was no mumbling coming out from his closed lips. He wanted to, god knew Tango wanted to be breaking down right now, but he couldn't. It was just two weeks before his wedding anniversary. He just wanted to forget what the 17th was.
"Cause Jersey just got colder and, I'll have you know I'm scared to death. That everything that you had said to me was just a lie until you left.."
The words were normally ones he would be saying with bitterness or resentment. But no. They were just simple statements, the truth of what he felt. How odd that a song could fit what he was thinking, really. The worst part, though, was that he couldn't even blame anyone else. He couldn't blame Steve, or Alice, or anyone that had warned him about his imagination. He knew that he flipped out. Just because her jacket was left in Steve's car didn't mean anything. He felt horrible for how he yelled at Steve, for knowing that he was the reason they were doing a 'seperation'.
Part of him, though.. part of him wondered if Steve was with Alice right then. If he had ran to her as soon as Tango had moved back to his old house. He couldn't bring himself to call Steve. Couldn't bring himself to drive past the house and see if she was there. If she was going to be the one to 'comfort' him. Steve swore up and down that there was nothing there. Slowly, very slowly, he was starting to accept that.
But there was still something in the pit of his stomach that told him it was wrong, that Steve and Alice had something between them still and were hiding it from him. He just... he couldn't fight the feeling any longer.
"Now I'm hoping just a little bit stronger. Hold me up a little bit longer. I'll be fine, I swear, I'm just gone beyond repair.."
A gentle breath slipped out from between his lips as he kept staring out the window of his bedroom. He hadn't left his house since he came back, and had only moved back and forth from the bedroom to the couch. He had stopped crying after the third day of being away from Steve. He just felt... empty now. He had left his heart with his husband, his soul.
Part of him doubted he would ever get them back. He pushed Steve away. He pushed him farther than he had ever done before. He wouldn't be surprised if Steve never wanted him back.
He wouldn't be surprised if he pushed Steve right back into Alice's arms.
His head fell, his knee resting on his folded arms that were on the window sill. The cool glass was pressed against the top of his head, and it felt nice. It chilled him. It stopped him from getting comfortable, and the song's words kept slipping from between his lips as he stilled.
Tango was alone there now. He pushed Steve away. He pushed all of his friends away before that, when they told him he was being stupid and letting his imagination have fun. Being alone was something he would have to deal with. At least for now. He had already decided that if Steve got back with Alice... he would move. Start over. Try to make a new life for himself.
He wouldn't date again, though. Wouldn't marry. How could he when he had nothing to give away again?
"And I should have been your everything. I'm now at the end of my eternity. And I will sleep to ahve the darkest dreams. This just won't seem right to me. I close my eyes and beg for peace..."
Honestly, that was the best plan he had heard for a while. He would go sleep. He would pray that one of two things would happen. Either he would wake up, and have a missed call from Steve giving him another chance. They would give them another chance and he would make everything up to his husband, as long as they had some conditions about his time with Alice. EIther that... or he wouldn't wake up. He would be at peace. He would be done.