Disclaimer: I own nothing. Summary quote by Clark Moustakas.
Wear It On Your Sleeve
"Dude, open up! I know you're in there."
The ruckus beyond his apartment door is both familiar and foreign to Austin. He's fairly certain Trish has given up hounding him, or at the very least she is lying in wait somewhere preparing to pounce when he least expects it. With no Trish to pester him, Austin has been surrounded by the sound of silence and he relishes in it. Until now.
Hidden by a wall of brick is a friendly, freckled face. Blocked out by mere inches of thick wooden door is a face which Austin both welcomes and abhors. Despite this, the blonde can do nothing to quell the fluttering sensation in his stomach; it's enough to force out a groan of irritation because he knows what comes next. It's like clockwork.
Heaving himself out of the confines of his Electric Avengers bed sheets (which he really should have grown out of by now but it's his apartment and he'll do whatever the fuck he likes), Austin stumbles towards the locked door and wrenches it open. As he lifts his arm to fiddle with the latch he gets a whiff of his less than pleasant body odour and prays that his friend doesn't mention it.
With the door now open, Austin's guest ambles in, his usual goofy grin plastered to his lips though it is painfully clear to the shorter boy how false the expression is. There is nothing to smile about today.
"Hey," and that's all Austin can say because words seem to fail him.
It takes less than a second for his friend's facade to fall and for him to pull Austin in for a bone crushing hug. Normally, Austin would appreciate the gesture but for once he doesn't even have it in him to lift his arms and return the embrace, he merely stands stiff in his friend's arms, his face pressed against the taller man's chest.
When the pair eventually break away, Austin is the first to speak. "So, you saw the video, huh?"
"Yeah," and that pretty much covers it, really. What more is there to say? Austin doesn't want to talk about it, even the thought of it makes his stomach churn and his eyes burn with unshed tears.
"Right... well, thanks for coming over, Dez but I'm fine. I just... yeah, I'm fine," Austin hates that he is incapable of forming coherent sentences but there is nothing he can do. Frankly, he hopes Dez will take pity on him and leave so that he can spend the rest of the day sobbing into his pillow; unfortunately, Dez isn't that kind of friend.
The redhead quirks his eyebrows in disbelief because even a blind and deaf person would be able to tell Austin is being dishonest; he never has been the best at lying. "Trish said she tried to call you."
"Yeah, she's been over a couple of times," he fails to mention the fact that the Latina had nearly barged down his door in an attempt to talk to him. Trish has been popping up sporadically for the past week, spending anywhere between five minutes and an hour just standing outside his door hammering her fist against the surprisingly sturdy wood and demanding to be let in; Austin has yet to oblige.
"I spoke to Ally." Austin flinches at her name and Dez visibly winces as he realises that bringing up Ally was perhaps not the best idea.
Though he knows it hurts to talk about her for it just makes the guilt claw at his insides that little bit harder, Austin can't help himself; he needs to know. "Oh. How is she?"
"As good as you can expect." Dez isn't saying it out loud but it's all the conformation Austin needs to know he's fucked up, to know that the petite brunette has probably spent the past week the same way he has, crying, albeit for different reasons.
"Right," Austin says as the discomfort grows in his chest. He raises a hand to gesture towards the living area. "D'you want to sit down, or something?" The conversation is awkward and Austin can't remember a single moment in their twenty-something years of friendship where things between himself and his best friend have been this stilted; he supposes there is a first time for everything.
"Uh, sure," Dez smiles politely before leading the way to the room across the hall.
It's not much, Austin knows that but he only moved in a week ago. The decor is minimal and most of his things are still in boxes which litter the majority of the room and the hallway beyond. The black leather couch is new and squeaks at even the slightest of movements, and the TV he'd bought but still has no intention of ever using again lies forgotten beside the window. Home sweet home.
"Sorry about the mess," Austin mumbles. He's happy that he's managed to keep his tornado of tragedy confined to his bedroom; should he ever decide to leave his room again after today it might save him a cleaning job.
"It's fine," Dez shrugs because really it is. The duo have known each other for as long as they can both remember and so it's not as if they'd never seen the other's room look like a bombsite but Austin knows this is worse somehow because he's an adult not a little kid and adults don't make these kinds of messes.
They sit in nervous silence for some time, Austin picking at his now non-existent nails (they'd been the first things to go the day after the video went viral, his teeth hacking away at them in pleasure as management scolded him over the phone) and Dez tapping his fingers against the arm of the couch as his eyes take in the scenery or lack thereof.
Eventually, Dez speaks. "So, what've you been up to?"
Austin just blinks at him in response because what does it fucking look like he's been up to? His hair is stuck in a perpetual state of 'bed head', he smells like he hasn't showered in a couple of days at best (in fact it's probably closer to a week) and his eyes have no doubt been rubbed raw by all his crying.
"Sorry, stupid question..." Dez trails off, his eyes darting to his lap as he fiddles with his fingers. The action is reminiscent of when they were kids and their parents would chide them for misbehaving; Austin had always been the defiant one, staring at the adults until the very last moment where he would back down and run crying into his mother's arms, whereas Dez would sniffle and stare at his shoes. Austin almost smiles at the memory, almost.
There's only so much silence Dez can take and soon enough he bursts. His entire body twists and the couch groans at the change in position but the man pays it no mind (ordinarily there would be a fart joke involved but apparently even Dez knows how dire this situation is), instead looking the blonde straight in the eye; Austin almost wants to blush at the intensity of it all but he doesn't because that's not manly and he has to be manly.
"You can't keep running from this, Austin," Dez says with a sigh, and if that is what he really thinks then he doesn't know Austin as well as he claims he does because Austin is fairly certain that he could run from this forever. "We need to talk about it."
"What is there to talk about?" Austin huffs, throwing his arms up in exasperation because honestly, he's tired of it, of everything. He's spent every day and every night of the last week wishing he could just stop existing if only for a second because he doesn't want to deal with this anymore. He's spent hours analysing and reanalysing every moment of the night, wondering if he hadn't been so reckless, so drunk, so horny, if the outcome would have been any different. He's even started praying to a God he doesn't believe in, in the hope that maybe this whole thing will go away.
"I don't know, maybe the fact that you've been holed up in this apartment for days? Or perhaps we should discuss the reason why Ally has also locked herself in her house and refusing to come out?" Though Dez's words cut like knives, his tone isn't cruel and Austin knows his friend is just frustrated with the circumstances at hand .
The blonde rubs at his eyes tiredly, almost delighting in the pain that comes with such an action; he knows that he probably looks as though he's got pink eye but he's beyond the point of caring. "What do you want me to say, Dez? There is nothing I can do that is going to make this any better. Ally is still going to be upset, the world is still going to be talking about me and I'm... I'm still going to be me."
Dez pinches the bridge of his nose as he processes Austin's words, trying to word his response carefully so as not to piss the pop sensation off further. He hopes his staring isn't too obvious but Austin can't help but look on in admiration at his friend; he's grown so much in the years he has known him. Sure, Dez will always be his goofy self and he'll probably never grow out of his inappropriate love for suspenders and colourful pants, but that doesn't change the fact that Dez is no longer a boy, he's a man.
At twenty six both men lead their own separate lives, no longer living out of each other's pockets (a fact that Austin privately resents). Austin spends his days working in the studio, belting out his next hit single and wooing his fans. Dez, on the other hand, works his ass off directing music videos for unknowns; he's yet to hit his big break in the movie industry but Austin knows he'll make it someday.
"No one's really talking about it anymore," Dez offers, his thin pink lips twitching skyward in what Austin assumes is a hopeful smile. "You know that presenter for Backstage Hollywood? Marta Balatico, or whatever her name is." Of course Austin knows who she is, how could he forget when Marta has been talking shit about him every time he turns on the TV. "Yeah, well, she got arrested again. Something about stalking that guy from Mackenzie Falls... but whatever, the point is no one is interested in your video anymore."
While Dez may have a point, Austin isn't sure he wants to believe him because the Marta thing isn't really that much of a big deal and it'll blow over in a couple of days. Austin's video, however, is a big deal, especially since it's been trending for five days now. "The worldwide trending topics beg to differ."
Dez rolls his eyes. "Why do you care so much about what other people think? I don't care what other people think and I'm perfectly happy."
"That's not the same. Your entire career doesn't depend on what people think of you. You haven't had to sign multiple agreements with your management to conduct yourself in a certain way," Austin argues and his head is spinning just thinking about all the shit he's going to get off his management team should he ever leave the confines of his apartment. "You know exactly who you are and you don't have to feel ashamed of that, but... I don't know who I am, I'm still trying to work that out but at the same time every eye is on me, and that makes it kinda hard."
Dez nods in understanding, though Austin isn't sure he truly gets it. In fact, he's not sure anyone truly gets it. He's only ever told one other person in his life about these worries and that was difficult at best; much to his relief, Mimi had taken the whole thing in her stride and was more than happy to hold her son while he sobbed into her blouse and lamented his entire existence.
There's an elephant in the room and Austin can tell Dez is struggling to contain himself, he's practically writhing in his seat, question on the tip of his tongue. Austin looks away; he doesn't need his brain getting any ideas about writhing redheads.
The silence soon becomes too much and Austin offers to turn the TV on if only to purge the atmosphere of it's uncomfortable quiet. Naturally, the screen flickers straight to the most recent episode of Backstage Hollywood, and despite Dez's earlier allegations, the 'perverted' Austin Moon is the topic of the hour.
The presenter, Austin doesn't know her name but he's glad it isn't Marta, is talking at a mile a minute, her words falling out of her mouth almost too fast to process. It doesn't matter though, in fact, the woman may as well not say anything because the only thing Austin is paying any attention to is the grainy video recording playing in the space beside her head. He knows he shouldn't but Austin can't help but sneak a glance at his best friend who appears to be watching the video with rapt attention.
"You know, all things considered, it could be worse," Dez comments, eyes still glued to the screen. "At the very least the video makes it pretty clear that those claims about your... 'endowment', were true."
Austin feels the heat rising to his cheeks. Was it really necessary for Dez to talk so casually about his penis? Dez and his penis are two things he likes to keep entirely separate in his mind, lest he fall victim to yet another racy night on the town. Stupid redheads.
"Plus, at least it was only the video that went viral and not other things," and Austin thinks Dez might have a valid point with that one; the bathroom the video had been shot in had been a breeding ground for venereal diseases. "Besides, the quality isn't even that good. Are you sure people actually believe that's you?" Okay, so that's a blatant lie.
"I may have been way passed drunk at that point, Dez, but even I know that's me," Austin admits, though he really wishes he was lying. "It's pretty hard to mistake my hair anyway."
Dez concedes, his stare finally turning away from the TV as the show switches to a commercial. With neither of them displaying a particular interest in the Christmas themed advertisement, Austin turns the TV back off; Dez is squirming in his chair again and Austin knows his friend won't be able to hold off the interrogation much longer.
Peace falls upon the pair once again but it doesn't stay long. Dez leans back into the smooth black leather couch, his crystalline blue eyes fixing on Austin, and says, "Why didn't you tell me?"
The blonde supposes he should have expected that. "I didn't know how," and though it may be the truth, it sure as hell isn't the whole truth.
"Did you think I'd have a problem with it?" and Austin has to stop himself from barking out a laugh because although Dez might be wildly inappropriate at times, he's never malicious and Austin knows better than anyone that Dez would be the last person on Earth to judge him for that video.
"Of course not," Austin says hoping the sincerity is not only obvious in his voice but in his eyes too; he never wants to make Dez feel bad but the hurt that's playing out on the paler boy's features seems to suggest otherwise. "It's just not the kind of thing you just blurt out, you know?"
"Did you tell Ally?" There's a hint of accusation in Dez's tone and his barely-there eyebrows pull together in a crease.
"No," Austin snorts and he doesn't mean to be insensitive but he knows it comes across that way. "How was I supposed to tell Ally that? 'Hey, Ally, we've been together for a while now and I know you've been expecting a proposal but the truth is I'm a raging homosexual,'" It's the first time he's said it out loud since he told his mom, and frankly, he wishes he could scoop the words back out of the air and force them back down his throat.
For a moment Dez seems to frozen, stunned into silence by Austin's bitter declaration. Although he's happy to have killed the conversation in his tracks, Austin wants nothing more than for Dez to close his gaping mouth for not only is the man now slightly reminiscent of a goldfish but Austin can do nothing to extinguish the downright dirty thoughts he has concerning Dez's pink lips and his manhood; he's fairly certain that those fantasies should not only be restricted to his bedroom or the shower, but also that they're entirely inappropriate right now.
"So it was better to let her find out with the rest of the world?" Dez inquires, his voice soft like velvet. "I get that you were scared but I think Ally deserved to know, man." Austin doesn't need to have Ally's genius IQ to know his best friend is disappointed with him.
"I messed up, okay?" Austin admits. He's being pushed closer and closer to the edge and he knows it won't be long before he snaps at Dez and undoubtedly says something he will regret. "I should have ended things with Ally a long time ago."
"Duh," and Austin wants to punch Dez for acting like a douche at a time like this. He'd apologised to Ally, sent her flowers and moved out of their four bedroom home, what more was he supposed to do?
"You know, if you came here to tell me off then I'd appreciate it if you'd just leave," Austin says, sending a sour look in Dez's direction. "My management team, Twitter, and Ally have all yelled at me enough. I don't need you reminding me that I'm a cowardly, asshole."
Dez runs a large hand down his face before stopping to fondle the sparse amount of facial hair sprouting from his chin. "I didn't mean it like that. I just... I don't understand why you felt you couldn't tell us... why you felt you couldn't tell me. We've been best friends for years, Austin. Am I really that untrustworthy?"
"No!" Austin finds himself throwing his body forward, practically landing in Dez's lap, in his haste to reassure the older man. "You're not untrustworthy at all, and you're definitely my best friend! I just... I didn't want to accept it, you know? I only told my mom a couple of weeks ago."
"How did she take it?" Dez asks, his eyes softer now and less hurt. They're so close now there isn't a molecule of air that could pass between them; shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. "Well, I hope."
Austin swallows down hard on the frog sized lump that had evolved in his throat at the memory of the rainy Thursday afternoon spent at his parents' house, crying into his mom's lap. "She was good about it, yeah. Told me that she didn't care who I loved as long as I was happy." He pauses for a moment before reaching the conclusion that it's okay to confide in Dez. "Only... I'm not happy."
Dez doesn't say anything, merely waits for the blonde to continue, knowing he needs to vent. It's one of the perks of being friends with someone for so long; after a while you begin to know them better than you know yourself, or at least, that's the case with Austin and Dez.
"I'm not happy because I've wasted the last two decades of my life lying to myself and everyone else about who I am. I'm not happy because I've just gone and thrown away one of the best friendships I've ever had and in the process hurt someone I care about, a lot. I'm not happy because -" Austin never gets to finish his rant because tears soon overcome him and there is nothing he can do to stop his body from convulsing violently with every hideous sob.
Dez looks on with pitying eyes, his long arms stretching around the younger man's slight frame and pulling him into his lap in an effort to soothe him; the kind-hearted action only serves to make Austin cry harder. Austin wraps his arms around Dez's skinny torso, hiding his face in the man's neck as he whimpers.
"It's okay," Dez says his words hushed as he presses his cheek into Austin's temple.
"It's not okay!" Austin screams through a thick stream of snot and phlegm. "How can you say that after what I did to you?"
Fuck.
Austin feels Dez's body stiffen beneath him and there is nothing the blonde desires more in the world than for the floor to swallow him whole because why the fuck did he have to go and say that?
"It was a long time ago," Dez mumbles, his raspier than Austin has ever known it to be. "We were a lot younger back then... things were different. You didn't mean it. Besides, I should have known better. It's all in the past."
"That's such fucking bullshit," Austin spits, his eyes darkening with unadulterated fury. "You shouldn't be comforting me, Dez. You should be laughing at me and screaming 'I told you so' while you smash my guitar into tiny pieces. Why aren't you angry at me?"
"I think you're angry enough for the both of us, don't you?" and with that Dez's grip on Austin's frame tightens, a wordless proclamation that nothing Austin says will make Dez loosen his hold. "I know what it's like to be in your position, partially anyway. It's scary at the best of times, but it's even worse to be suffering through it alone."
"Dez -" Austin starts but the man in question merely raises a hand to silence him, dismissing all further attempts at apologies.
"Just forget it, Austin. Please," The desperation in the redhead's baby blues is enough to shut Austin up but nothing could ever make Austin forget.
"I don't want to forget," Austin mumbles into the soft cotton of Dez's shirt, his gigantic hand no longer clutching at the thin material, instead splayed out across Dez's lower tummy. Austin hates the way Dez feels so calm beneath him, it's a sharp contrast to the violent butterflies which are terrorising his stomach.
Dez doesn't speak, and Austin isn't sure what to say; the words the dance on the tip of his tongue terrify him because he knows that once they're out there he can't take them back. Dez asked him not to talk about it, practically begged him not to say it, but no amount of pleading can stop the way his brain flits between hazy memories of days gone by.
It hurts that Dez wants him to forget; Austin thinks it might hurt more than the aching slap Ally had delivered to his cheek a week ago. "I could never forget," Austin whispers, unsure if his words are audible enough for Dez to hear them.
"We were eleven," he continues when Dez doesn't reply, the only indication that he might of heard is the sudden pausing of his slender fingers carding through Austin's peroxide locks; they soon begin again. "We were eleven and we were sat on your front porch waiting for my mom to pick me up... and I was convinced that your mouth couldn't possibly have been as soft as it looked." Austin's stomach swirls with discomfort because they've never talked about this out loud before and it's maybe the scariest thing he's ever had to endure. "So I figured I'd inspect it... with my own mouth."
Dez's body tenses underneath him and if his ears aren't as fucked as he thinks they might be (years of loud music and screaming fans had really screwed his hearing capabilities), Dez's heart may have just picked up the pace beneath his ear.
"There was a foot-long string of drool between us afterwards," Dez comments, his voice (if possible) quieter than Austin's. He's too scared to actually look but Austin hopes his best friend is smiling fondly at the memory; he hopes even more that it's his crinkly-eyed smile because it might just be the thing that Austin treasures most in the world.
"Yeah," Austin whispers fondly. The memory plays out in his mind like a movie and if his life were a cheesy 80s movie then the pair might just have run off into the sunset together after that. As it happens, his life is not a cheesy 80s movie and instead Dez's mom had run out onto the porch waving a damp dish cloth at them and shooing the two boys apart. That part hadn't been so great.
"My mom wouldn't let us hang out for weeks," Dez says, his voice distant and Austin thinks he's just as lost in the memory as he is.
"But you snuck out anyway," Austin chuckles and it feels as though his whole body is swelling with happiness; it's been a long time since he's felt anything remotely close to contentment.
Dez giggles out his response, his chest vibrating against Austin's head. "And I had to lie to my mom about how I sprained my wrist because I couldn't tell her I'd slipped trying to climb the tree into your room."
Austin laughs along with him as he finally gains the courage to look at Dez. Much to his delight (and relief) the older boy is smiling down at him, his eyes crinkling in the corners causing the fondness bubbling in Austin's veins to kick into overdrive. He's close enough that he can practically count the tiny freckles that dust Dez's nose and cheeks, close enough to prod his dimples which are out in full force (those things could shelter the homeless), close enough to -
"I'm sorry about the way my mom treated you after that," Dez says having sobered considerably. His hold on Austin tightens in a manner which could be labelled protective. "The things she said... they weren't right."
Austin deflates; he's never been a fan of seriousness, especially when it concerns Dez. Unfortunately, Austin can't seem to avoid seriousness right now, it follows him like his shadow on the sidewalk, ever-present. "It's not your fault, Dez. Besides, she was way worse to you when you, you know... she's your mom and she didn't act like it."
Dez shrugs as though it is nothing but they both know he's lying to himself. "It doesn't matter now. As far as she's concerned she has no son."
"That doesn't excuse the things she said to you," Austin argues. Frankly, he'll argue his case until he's blue in the face because no one, no one, deserves to be treated that way, especially by their mom and especially not Dez. Despite the fact that he wasn't there when Dez had officially come out to his parents he had been there when Dez had called him crying from the sidewalk outside his house; he will never forgive Donna for the hurtful things she said to his best friend that day. "You're not any of those things, Dez. You're the best person I know and who you love and who you're attracted to doesn't change any of that."
"So why does it affect who you are?" Dez questions, his words are gentle but they hit Austin with the force of a speeding bullet.
He doesn't know how to answer that.
His mind flashes back to the day on the porch, the day he'd first thought about the fact that he might like boys. He can remember it all as if it had only happened yesterday, can still feel the evening sun on his skin and taste the egg salad on Dez's lips. He can also still feel the force of Mrs Wade's hands as she pulled him away from Dez, can still hear her nasally voice screeching in his ear about 'homosexuals' and 'sin'.
Sometimes, when he's alone with his thoughts, Austin goes back to that day as if it's the starting point for everything that went wrong in his life. The day the angels sang and the stars aligned in his head as his lips pressed tentatively against his best friend's. The day his ears began ringing with words like 'faggot', 'queer' and 'twink'. The day he began weaving his intricate web of lies.
At fifteen Austin was done with sitting on the fence between 'gay' and 'straight', he wanted to be a rock star for fuck sakes, how many gay rock stars were there anyway? And how many of them were actually successful? With Mrs Wade's words roaring in his ears, Austin set about ensuring that he was the dictionary definition of 'heterosexual', and that began with dating Ally.
It was fucked up, he knows that but he never meant for things to get so far out of hand. One second they're holding hands and eating ice-cream on the beach, then the next they're moving in together and he's finding bridal magazines stuffed between the cushions on the couch. There will never be a day where Austin doesn't hate himself for what he's done to Ally. He loved her, there is no doubt in his mind that he loved her or even that he will always love her, but he's not in love with her nor will he ever be.
Ally's great, brilliant even; she's smart (practically Einstein's level of genius, if you want Austin's honest opinion), she's talented, she's kind and nice, and she's drop dead gorgeous but she's missing one vital component - a penis.
The more Austin looks back on the last fifteen years of his life the more he is overcome with guilt and regret. There is so much he wishes he could take back, so much that he would give anything to fix but what can he do? He's just some queer who fucked his best friend and pretended she was his other best friend. He would throw away his whole career, every platinum album, every penny, he'd even sell his soul if it meant he could make things right with his friends; if it meant he could take back the hurt he's caused everyone.
He's not even sure that the video playing on millions of computer screens and cell phones is all that bad now that he looks back on the pain his inflicted upon both Ally and Dez. He can't even begin to wrap his head around the fact that Dez is here with him now and not tearing the shit into him for everything he's done.
"Dez," He says weakly, the words scratching at the lining of his throat. He continues after a non-committal hum on the older man's behalf. "Your mom was wrong to say those things to you... and I know we don't talk about it, ever, and I know that we've spent the last ten years acting like it didn't happen, like I'm not a total asshole, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I said to you that day and I'm sorry I'm no better than your mom. I'm sorry that I can't ever take it back and I can't heal the wounds I caused. I'm sorry I never apologised and I'm sorry I -"
Before Austin can say anymore, there's a surprisingly cold hand under his chin, forcing him to look upwards and stare into a pair of beautiful, glistening blue eyes. "I know," is all Dez says and Austin hates him for it.
"Why won't you just yell at me?" He snaps, pushing himself out of Dez's embrace; he instantly misses the older man's warmth. "How can you sit there and act like I've done nothing wrong? Like I'm not a fucked up piece of shit. I hurt you, Dez, and don't say I didn't because I can see it in your eyes when you're lying. I remember that day just as well as you do, if not more. I can still hear those awful things I said as if I only said them yesterday. Why can't you just hate me like I hate myself?" With that Austin crumbles, his body collapsing in on itself as his head falls into his hands like a puppet who's strings have just been cut.
"I can't hate you because you're my best friend," Dez replies and though Austin can still feel his presence beside him, he sounds a million miles away. "Austin, you were young and confused, just like I was. I think my mom can take the blame for most of that. Besides, it was wrong of me to put you in that position in the first place."
Austin raises his head and gaps at his friend in disbelief. "But I kissed you back! I kissed you back and pushed you away. I called you a fairy, a princess, a freak," He spits out the words like they are acid on his tongue. "I kissed you so hard your lips bruised and then I shoved you away even harder, so hard you fell and hit your head. I screamed at you until my throat was raw, until you cried and told me you had to leave. Dez, I don't deserve your kindness. I never did."
Dez doesn't reply.
"See," Austin snorts, his eyes filling up with tears for what feels like the hundredth time that day (it probably is). "There's nothing left for you to say because you know I'm right. I hurt you because I was afraid to be different. Afraid that your mom was right, that I was better off dead than gay."
"You didn't believe those things when my mom said them to me. After everything she said to me that night, you held me and told me she was wrong. So why was she wrong about me but right about you? Why is it okay for me to be gay but not for you?" Dez says in earnest. "What you said to me hurt but I'm not stupid, Austin. I've known you my entire life, I know when you're lying."
"That still doesn't make up for what I said, for what I did. That video... it's not the first time."
"What d'you mean?"
"It's not the first time I've done something like that," Austin admits, his eyes returning to the expensive cream carpet beneath his toes. "It's the first time I've been caught but... it's been happening since before I got with Ally. Different guys, different bars but always the same intent."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Dez demands, frustration and hurt evident in his voice. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have helped you."
"I didn't want your fucking help! I didn't deserve your help," Austin replies bitterly. "I didn't deserve anyone's help, much less yours. How was I supposed to tell you that not only was I cheating on my girlfriend but also as gay as the fourth of July, huh? How was I supposed to tell you that I was everything I chewed you out for? How could I have done that?"
"When are you going to realise that I don't give a fuck about what you think you deserve?" Dez says, his voice quiet but unwavering. "When are you going to realise that no matter how hard you push me away that I'm going to be here for you whether you like it or not? When are you going to realise that I'm in love with you Austin Moon?"
Austin's heart stops, it literally fucking stops and he's ninety nine percent sure he's going to die right there on the ugly leather couch. "What?" he manages to stutter out because this may possibly be the greatest moment of his existence and he doesn't deserve a single second of it.
"I'm in love with you," Dez says, his brilliant blue eyes fixing on Austin's own bloodshot ones. "I'm in love with you and I have been since we were five years old and you hit me in the head with a rock on the playground. I loved you even more when you hugged me tight and wiped away my tears. I loved you that night on the front porch when we kissed and I still loved you after my mom told me it was wrong and that I would die if I liked boys the way I should have liked girls. I thought about you when I went to bed last night, when I woke up this morning and every second in between. I love you Austin Moon and there is nothing you can say that is going to make me change my mind."
"Really?" is all Austin can manage and he grimaces internally at his inability to form coherent sentences. He feels weightless, as if he's about to float off into space at any given moment because there is no way in hell that this is actually happening. These kinds of things don't happen to Austin Moon, he doesn't deserve them.
Dez nods, his hand reaching out to intertwine their fingers. "Really. Austin, I'm really sorry for those things my mom said to you and I'm sorry for whatever else has pushed you to feel this way but you need to know that the gender of the people you love doesn't matter, it's the people themselves that do... and even if you don't feel the same way about me, you're still my best friend and I'm still going to be here for you to help you through this, to help you see that your sexuality doesn't define you or make you a worse person."
Austin doesn't know what to say, so for the first time in a long time he reacts without thinking. He leans forward, his lips colliding with Dez's own easily. He pulls him in close, one hand still entwined with Dez's whilst the other is raised, cupping his cheek. The kiss is gentle, a vast contrast to the last one they'd shared a little over a decade ago. Dez smiles against him; they've split a grand total of three kisses and it's already as natural as breathing.
When they finally separate, Dez is breathing heavily and Austin knows he's struggling to suppress a grin. "Are you sure about this? I don't want you to feel pressured into something you don't want just because you feel guilty about... before."
Austin can't say he's surprised by Dez's concerns but of everything he has struggled with over the last decade and a half, the one consistency has been his feelings for Dez. "I'm sure. I still... I still don't know how to let go of those..." he struggles to find the right words. "Labels... I know that it's okay, I mean, there are documentaries on the TV about it all the time and there are a ton of people out there who are perfectly fine with it but what if... I don't know. I'm not making much sense, am I?"
Dez shakes his head but a soft smile continues to play on his lips. "No but we'll work on it, okay?"
"But I don't want to work on it!" Austin insists almost childishly; he never has been patient. "I want to be able to give you my whole damn heart without worrying about what everyone else is going to think. I want to be able to kiss you and not have to deal with the sound of your mother scolding me for sending her son to hell. I want to -"
"Wait, is this what this whole thing is about?" Dez asks, his eyebrows knitting together in a way which Austin considers kind of adorable. His lips pucker in a pout, revealing his dimples and Austin has the strangest urge to touch them just because he can. "You're scared I'm going to end up in hell, because of you?"
Austin blushes and tries not to think of the countless nightmares he's had involving Dez burning in the fiery pits of purgatory while Mrs Wade screams at him for what he's caused.
"Dude," Dez squeezes Austin's hand in his own. "My mom is, insane, okay? That's not your fault, and no one else agrees with her. Besides, if I'm going to hell then she's going with me because adultery is also a sin," though Austin gaps at him in disbelief (because that was a bombshell he never saw coming), Dez continues. "I know it's hard but just forget it okay? You're making yourself suffer because of something my mom said fifteen years ago. She's not worth it, I promise."
It's the sincerity in Dez's eyes which makes Austin feel worse. He doesn't deserve Dez's kindness and not because he's gay (wow, that wasn't so hard to say) but because he's been an absolute dick to Dez, Ally and every guy he let fuck him in a grimy public bathroom. The lies themselves are innumerable; an easy fabrication to Ally - "I'm spending the night with Dez. We're gonna catch a movie. Don't wait up... Love you too." - and then he's off, a steady beat thumping in his bones, his body slick with sweat and the world veiled in a fog of booze and wavering hands.
By the end of the night bruises litter his collarbone like constellations and he's swearing he'll never drink again. He never remembers the names of the guys he drags into the filthy restroom stalls, sometimes he's not even sure he's asked, but he knows he has a type; tall, skinny and dimples are a must (He'd had the strangest desire to drink Tequila out of video guy's dimples; not his proudest moment of the night but definitely not the worst).
Shaking his head, effectively ridding his mind of the faceless men that have had their lips around his dick, Austin returns his attention to Dez. "But she's your mom," he insists.
"Exactly, she's my mom. So, if I don't give a fuck about her and her delusions, then why should you?" Dez points out. "Austin, if you're gay then you're gay. You don't have to pretend that you're straight because of one bad experience fifteen years ago."
"Not like it would be all that easy to pretend anymore anyway," The blonde interjects. "There's a video of me fucking some random guy's mouth, and there is no doubt in my mind that there will be more after this week."
Dez shrugs because unlike Austin it's been a very long time since he's had to care about what other people think. "See, you can be who you are any day of the week. Why should it matter to anyone else what you do with guys in bed... or in bathrooms for that matter?" and Austin almost smiles at that because he knows Dez is trying to be light-hearted. "You told me once, that day my mom kicked me out, that I could always count on you to be beside me every day. You told me that it was okay and that I was just born that way and that it was in my DNA. You told me that it didn't change who I was as a person and most importantly, you told me that those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind."
This time Austin actually smiles, it's small and shy but it's there and that's what counts. "I was quoting Dr Seuss..."
"You're insufferable," Dez sighs in exasperation but his eyes are twinkling brightly so Austin knows he's not really mad. "But do you understand what I'm trying to say here?"
Though he pauses before answering it is not long until Austin is nodding in response. "Yeah... besides, since when has Dr Seuss ever steered me wrong before?"