Title: tearing down yellow tape (not done with scissors)

Author: royal_chandler

Rating: M for language

Word Count: ~6,000 MW. Yeah, I don't even know.

Pairing: Ian/Teddy

Summary: "That's what Teddy couldn't get past. If Ian couldn't handle the secrecy, why hadn't he said so? Why'd he have to go behind Teddy's back and force him out of the closet anonymously? That act and the Ian he'd come to know don't mesh. It plagues him, makes Teddy feel stranded, at a loss."

Disclaimer: I do not own 90210 or any of its characters.

Spoilers/Warnings: 3.21 and an unfortunate abuse of dashes, ellipses and commas.

A/N: Ian and Teddy still go to the same school. I took that fact and ran wild with it because Teddy's current pairing does nothing for me and I miss Kyle Riabko's face. Unbeta'd so please feel free to point out any typos (or lack of coherency) you catch!

The strings of the song start to soften and fade, slowing the movement of bodies on the dance floor and causing the darker lights to brighten dramatically. The students moan and groan but are soon drawn into the more upbeat sound that starts to come through the speakers, rhythmic and pulsing.

Teddy blinks his eyes to adjust, chuckling softly. "Well."

Marco looks up at him with a small smile, shy but pleased. "That was nice."

"Yeah," Teddy agrees, circling the hand that he has against his boyfriend's back. "Yeah, it was. This night's been amazing. I'm really glad that I'm getting to share it with you."

"Same here," Marco replies before leaning up and brushing his lips against Teddy's softly.

It doesn't last very long, is chaste and understated and Teddy uses that to excuse the fact that he didn't feel anything in the kiss. He and Marco are just starting out so maybe that's why he hasn't seen sparks yet. That makes sense, doesn't it? Marco's a good guy. Friendly and sweet. Teddy feels a connection to him but it's not on that intense, mind-blowing level yet. Hopefully it'd get there soon enough once their feelings start to grow, once they've spent more time together.

Guilt starting to rear its ugly head, Teddy pulls out of their embrace and wipes at his forehead in a bothered matter. "It's really starting to boil in here. I'm going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?"

"I'm good." Marco says, pecking Teddy once more.

For Teddy the effort to grin isn't easy. "I'll be right back."

He pushes himself through the vast crowd and doesn't catch eye of the refreshment table until he's actually there, doesn't catch eye of Ian until they're within five feet of one another. And it's ridiculous that his breath is taken away at the sight of his ex boyf—friend—whatever, that Ian's green eyes drop Teddy's stomach and twist his heart still.

It's not like they haven't seen one another since the night of Adrianna's party. That'd be kind of hard to pull off considering they both go to the same school, attend the same chemistry class every day, walk through the same hallways and fucking etc. They just haven't spoken…and honestly? Teddy's not sure if he's ready to.

He's about to turn on his heel when Ian calls out to him and it'd be even more ridiculous to run away. It's been almost four months, Teddy rationalizes, getting punch and grabbing a few cookies shouldn't be this much of a struggle. "Hey," he greets with a hoarse voice, heading over. "I didn't know that you were here."

Ian shrugs, lifts the corner of his mouth. "I wasn't going to be but it's senior year and I don't want to regret not going later on when I'm away at college and actually missing these fabu get-togethers." His smirk turns teasing. "Nice speech by the way, your highness."

"Thanks."

They both laugh at that, the encore of his speech, uncertainly. It ends only to enter an uncomfortable silence that Ian breaks after a moment. "How've you been?"

"Good. Great," Teddy says too quickly, too enthusiastically. "Okay," he amends—more truthful. "You?"

"Same here. Nothing to complain about but also nothing to…" He pauses, cuts himself off before muttering a tiny, "yeah."

And Teddy feels like he shouldn't nod in understanding, that it's not fair to his relationship right now but he does anyway. He grabs for a plastic cup and absentmindedly begins to handle it as he asks a question he's not even sure he wants the answer to, "So are you—you here with anyone?"

Ian looks at him carefully, eyes flicking down and up again on Teddy's profile. Assessing. And Teddy wishes that he didn't notice the way the shorter man licks his lips before speaking. "No I'm not. Completely single."

Teddy's hands jerk when he reaches for the ladle and pours himself a drink. And when it goes down his throat, it's not relief that Teddy has to swallow down with it. It's not. "That's um—that's cool. That's—"

"Pathetic? Sad?" Ian supplies half-hearted. Teddy opens his mouth to reply because that's not what he meant at all but Ian shakes his head. "Don't worry about it. Honestly, I'm surprised that you're even talking to me."

Teddy notes that he doesn't sound self-pitying or like he's trying for sympathy. He just states it as fact.

Ian shifts on his feet, tense but still managing to stay on beat. "I haven't gotten a chance to…wait—that's not completely true. I've had the opportunities just not the balls but um—I want to say that I'm sorry again. That I'm so sorry for hurting you."

The words make Teddy feel funny, faint and he wants away from the imbalance that always comes when he thinks of what Ian did. His heart starts to thud in his ears. "Ian…"

The other teenager isn't deterred, instead rushes through his words, hands expressive. "Please let me—God, Teddy. I just," His jaw clenches in frustration. "This was so much easier as an interior monologue. I screwed up. I screwed up royally and I feel like I'm paying for it every day. I see you and all I want—"

And it's so easy to get angry and at that space in time, no matter how irrational, Teddy longs for a racket in his hand. "I haven't done anything to you!" He reminds Ian sharply, emotion spiking. He growls out, "How exactly are you paying for it? I let you off pretty fucking easy, Ian."

Squeezing his eyes tight, Ian says, "That came out wrong."

"Yeah. It really did." Teddy laughs dryly, at his stupid self more than anything else. He tosses his cup back onto to table. "And you know what? You were right before. You're sure as hell not worth my time."

Not willing to let one more second pass between them, he walks away.

When he's back with Marco, he feels out of sorts and says as much. He doesn't say why, just replies to Marco's look of concern with, "I think I'm getting sick or something."

Teddy's pulled into a hug he can't quite resist but he doesn't register the music, the soothing words in his ear or the clench of strong arms around him. For some reason what flashes before his eyes are his headlights shone on Ian's retreating back. A shiver runs through Teddy and the hug becomes tighter—almost suffocating.

Teddy's a horrible friend. Dreadful, selfish—absolutely horrible. He'd texted Silver and she'd said she was up for a visit but it didn't do much to sway his conscience. She's been going through hell lately and hasn't been allowed much time to recover, one drama-filled night after another. Teddy's more than aware of this. However, at the same time, he really needs someone to talk to and Silver's the only one who'd be able to understand. She gets him better than anyone else ever has.

He rings the doorbell and when she answers, Teddy pushes a bouquet of flowers at her in a flourish. He'd picked them up on the way over, a peace offering for putting up with the load of drama he's about to drop on her.

Although she gives the flowers a strange glance, Silver smiles brightly. "Hey you!"

"Hey yourself. These are for you," Teddy tells her.

"I figured as much." She takes them from him and ushers him inside. "I'll go put them in a vase and water. Have a seat."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Teddy goes to the sofa and does so. He takes a deep breath that elapses the time between Silver's departure and arrival. She sits next to him, rubs a light hand on his denim-clad knee.

Even if he wanted to, he can't help the smile that comes to his face at that. "It's so good to see you. I can't tell you how worried I was when I found out that you were in the hospital overnight and then with what happened at prom." Turning serious, he asks, "How are you?"

Her face drops almost instantaneously and Teddy feels like a jerk. "I've been better. These last few days have been one shitfest after another."

Teddy frowns, "I overheard your conversation with Navid last night. I'm so sorry, Silver."

"I don't want to talk about that," she says firmly. She puts back on a happy expression and Teddy can't help but admire her, the amazing strength she showcases—her loyalty to him despite everything that's going on with her.

Abruptly, he makes a decision, "I shouldn't be here. I don't know what I was thinking. You don't need any more weight on your shoulders."

Teddy makes a move to leave but he immediately learns that her strength isn't only the abstract kind. Silver pushes at his leg. "Teddy, no. No, absolutely not. You told me that you needed to talk so that's what we're going to do. What's going on with you?"

Teddy responds with, "This is completely unfair to you. I don't know what I was thinking, to unload all of my problems on you."

"Stop, Teddy. Do you know how much I don't want to talk about my hospital stay?" Teddy sees something in her eyes that resembles pain but it goes away as fast as it came. "Honestly, I welcome anyone who isn't going to ask if I took my pills today, anyone who doesn't want to talk about my disorder. I welcome anything that is not bipolar, Adrianna or Navid. You fit the bill, dude."

And Teddy can't really disagree with that; he nods wordlessly. Expelling a shaky breath, he admits, "I just didn't know who else to go to about this."

"Well are you okay?" She asks worriedly.

"Yeah," Teddy starts. "I'm—I'm fine. I just." Silver gazes at him intently, silently urging him to go on. "I saw Ian last night."

Confusion shadows her face. "Saw? What do you mean? As in…" she trails off, raising her brows.

"No. No, no, not like that," Teddy gets out hurriedly, feels the color heating in his face. He runs his fingers through his hair, an anxious habit. "Um, no."

"Oh." Silver smirks, eyes glittering. "Sorry, I'm currently having an aversion to skankiness, didn't mean to accuse you."

And he laughs at that because it's hilarious and comforting and it's them. "It's okay. I just meant that he and I talked…kind of."

She nods like she understands. "First time since you two broke up. That's monumental. How'd it go?"

"It went, you know? It was awkward but that was fine…what I expected. It just went downhill when he acted as though what happened between us wasn't his fault. Going on about how he's having to pay for what he did."

"Wow. He's got more scruples than I've ever given him credit for. What'd you say to that?"

"Not much, told him he wasn't worth my time."

"And yet you're here," Silver comments softly. She hesitates for a moment before asking, "What he said—selfish as it was—that's not what's bothering you is it?

"No." Teddy's tossed and turned over it all night and as angry he is at Ian, he's even more upset with himself. Upset that Ian is still able to get to him, make him feel bared and vulnerable. He's upset because more and more, he's starting to think of the time that they'd spent together—time that Teddy had thought he'd moved on from. "I wish that it was that simple. I wish that I didn't—Silver, I don't want to say it. If it's out there, out loud, it's real."

Silver reaches out and clasps his hands in hers, reminiscent of that night he'd first told her the truth about himself. "Teddy, it's real now. There's no shame in that. I promise you." She gives him an encouraging smile. "Do you still have feelings for Ian?"

"I'm with Marco." It's his last defense—has no fight, energy.

She's silent, doesn't reply like he expects and Teddy breathes unevenly, heart racing despite her calm and collected presence. "Why is it that I never want to be honest about what I feel for him? Fuck—yeah—yeah alright. I still care about him and I don't have any idea why. He hurt me, Silver. He hurt me in a way that's completely unforgivable. So what am I thinking? What in the world is wrong with me?"

"Nothing, Teddy!" Silver assures him passionately. "It's called closure. How you and Ian ended was so abrupt and you obviously need an explanation. Don't feel like you're being disloyal to yourself by wanting one. You have to talk to him."

Teddy huffs an incredulous laugh, glancing up briefly. "Not sure if it's a smart idea to see his face again. I'd just punch it in." Or kiss it stupid.

And does she hear that thought? Because the next words out of her mouth are, "I don't think that you'd do that. Come on, Teddy. You can't just leave it where it is. It's not doing any favors for you, Marco or," she makes a face and then continues, "Ian."

"I guess you're right," Teddy concedes.

"I am but there's one more thing for you to do before you even do that." Silver gets up and before he knows it disappears out of the living room and into an adjacent area. He can hear muffled shuffling. "Don't you dare move a muscle, Teddy Montgomery! I'll be right there!" She shouts.

"What are you doing?" He bellows in return but doesn't get an answer until she's back on the sofa with a notepad and pen. "Uh-oh. What are you up to?"

She shrugs innocently and Teddy doesn't buy it for a second. "Pros and cons lists. We'll make one for Marco and one for Ian."

"What? You can't be serious!" Teddy shakes his head, makes a grab for the items in her hands. She pulls them out of range. Rolling his eyes, Teddy argues, "No, Silver. We're not in middle school."

"Hey, don't knock it." Silver says dangerously. "These things are fool-proof, okay? You said that you still have romantic feelings for Ian, right? Well you can't dive head first into the conversation without sorting them out first." Unfortunately for him, she starts to pout as well. "Please."

Teddy wants to argue some more and tell her to forget it because he can practically see the neon signs above her head, warning him to stay clear. But he can also see that her eyes aren't clouded with the sadness he'd seen last night and earlier. She's carefree and if he can make her life easier, even at the expense of himself, for a moment then "Fine." Who is he to say no?

"Awesome." She scratches lines onto the paper. "We'll go chronologically and start with Ian—um pre-blackmail." Silver turns to Teddy expectantly. "Go ahead. What'd you like about him?"

Teddy closes his eyes briefly, thinking of what pulls him to Ian. When he opens them again, he openly states, "A lot of things. He was—is funny and hilarious." The night of the Undies comes to mind, Ian playing the MC, so engaging and vibrant and creative. The first time that Teddy had felt drawn to him, his humor, his laugh—his smile, bashful yet willing. "He's kind and smart and sweet. He understood where I was coming from and was patient with me...until he wasn't. He's confident, doesn't back down too easily and he's charming." A dreamy tone sneaks into Teddy's voice, parentheses forming at his mouth. "He's so charismatic. The entire time that I was attracted to him, I wanted to claim him and say that he's mine. It was impossible not to fall for him. He was perfect."

Silver bites at her lip, scribbling on the sheet before prompting his cautiously, "Cons?"

Tense and tight, Teddy utters, "He broke my heart."

She frowns and waits a while before continuing, "Okay. What about Marco?"

Teddy sees the image of Marco sitting on the bench where they'd first met, black eye and all. He thinks of Marco's playfulness and how approachable he's been. After a few beats, he begins with, "New. He's not complicated and there's no baggage. He's genuine and nice, and—and." And he wills his brain to come up with something that is likened to a dog.

Drumming the pen on the pad, Silver looks at him sympathetically and remarks with, "I guess we don't even have to do cons for this one, huh?"

Pulling off another furious forehand, Teddy punishes the practice board at the back of the tennis courts. When the ball returns, he takes another swing, more forceful than the last. He gets a few more in before he hears a voice say to him,

"You're turning that board into splinters. What's pissed you off so much?" Marco says, walking up to him slowly.

Teddy wheels around fast, lets the tennis ball fly past him. "Marco. What are you doing here?"

Marco bends to pick up the balls, turns it over and spins it in the palm of his hand. "You haven't been yourself all week. And you aren't with me or your friends after school so I figured that you must be with a racket. Just didn't know if it was here or on a roof somewhere." Marco explains simply.

When Marco says things like that, rational and logical, Teddy knows that he could have really liked him more than he already does. He recognizes the potential of their relationship, the sincere possibility of sanity.

"I'm sorry. I haven't been meaning to ignore you guys," Teddy tells him honestly. "I just have a lot going on."

Marco tosses the ball up and catches it in mid-air. He levels his eyes at Teddy's. "Like your ex?"

Shocked, Teddy mouths silently. The words only come out after a second intake of breath. "How'd you know that?"

Marco shrugs, smile crooked. "I saw you two together at the prom. You'd been gone for such a long time and I went to check on you." His expression closes for a second and then he continues in a smaller voice. "I've never seen you look at anyone the way that you were looking at him, Teddy. Like he could make or break your world."

Teddy stares at him perplexed. He feels behind, unable to catch up. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I thought you'd let me know if there was anything to tell, wanted to give you time to sort through things. But you don't seem to be any closer to a solution then you were that night."

Marco's tone is neutral and open and Teddy knows that this is the end. Marco's not dumb; he's come to his own conclusions. And he's not wrong. He's just waiting for Teddy to come out with it, freeing his shoulder to be leant on—like the good friend that he is.

Brokenly, he confesses, "No I'm still pretty fucked up over it." Teddy's eyes suddenly start to burn, prickle stubbornly. He grips his racket tightly. "He—Ian—he's under my skin. He's never left, I think. And there's no amount of sorries to make that okay, make this okay—not for us…you."

"You don't have to apologize for loving him, Teddy," Marco insists gently, his crooked smile smoothed out and supportive.

That knocks the ground from under Teddy's feet. It's a word Teddy has never allowed himself to consider. It's terrifying and crazy and way too fragile to let loose. "I only knew him for a few months, dated secretly for a week. That's hardly enough time to fall in love with someone," he lies…badly.

A silence stretches between them and a tingles starts in Teddy's fingers. The frame of the racket starts to sway, slips out of his hand slowly. And soon he deflates, beyond miserable. "God, Marco…"

The brunette steps into his space and spreads his arms wide, inviting and Teddy latches on, uncaring about what eyes may spy. He doesn't know what to say so he doesn't try to speak.

The next two days are the weekend and it's filled with serious contemplation and an embarrassing amount of time spent with a magic 8 ball Teddy keeps on a shelf in his room, a treasured possession he's had since the age of ten. He asks it if he should stay single for the remainder of his high school career, possibly even college (at times, for the rest of life doesn't seem like an option that's too melodramatic). He asks—will I ever be happy again, can my heart take any more damage, aren't I too young for love, will I get hurt again, will Ian hurt me again, should I give him the chance to?

He's shaken the toy so much, Teddy's sure he's given it some kind of syndrome.

Fortunately enough for his friends, their own bodies don't come equipped with a fortune-telling dye. However despite that sad fact, he gives his tennis playing a rest and spends more time with them. Accepting invitations to go out for dinner and surf a couple of waves. They ask how he's doing and he tells them the truth. Once jokingly responded with: "Life sucks. We should all make a pact and quit it." Teddy never stays on the topic of Ian or Marco for too long though. He wants to figure this conflict out and while he welcomes their advice, is grateful to have their undying support, he doesn't want to process things in an atmosphere where multiple opinions are coming at him all at once. It'd only serve to make him more confused.

So Teddy takes advantage of his barren house, finds sanctuary there. He thinks of how it all started, that drunken night. A night he doesn't recall too clearly but wishes he did. All he has are moments; he remembers the expanses of skin that were warm to the touch, gasps and cries that sounded too loud and right in that hotel room—fucking "circle hip"—the sweat and come that cemented his body to Ian's at some point in the night before Ian had slipped out of bed.

He doesn't get to know what instinct he went on to first approach Ian, if he was even the one that did the approaching. They've never talked about it. Was Teddy brave that night? Reckless or defiant, stupid or courageous? Somewhere deep in his belly—maybe it's his heart—Teddy knows that it was Ian who made him fearless that night. It was his smile and his hands that took Teddy's layers apart, made him weightless for a few hours. Teddy knows because Ian ended up doing the same thing, granted in a more temperate pace, in the months that came afterward.

Teddy'd ignored him, called him names, beat up on him and yet he stuck around to listen and lend kind words, slowly but surely getting Teddy to accept himself. He never badmouthed Teddy or spilled the secrets he'd learned—and it was all of that which led Teddy to believe that he could be trusted. Sure he hadn't known Ian for too long, only befriending him in the latter part of their time together, but Teddy had thought he'd known enough. He'd asked for patience and time and Ian had said yes, over and over again.

That's what Teddy couldn't get past. If Ian couldn't handle the secrecy, why hadn't he said so? Why'd he have to go behind Teddy's back and force him out of the closet anonymously? That act and the Ian he'd come to know don't mesh. It plagues him, makes Teddy feel stranded, at a loss.

Sunday night, sat at his desk and staring at homework, Teddy thinks that Silver's right, there's only one way to figure it all out. Reaching over his books, he fumbles for his phone and then scrolls through his contacts. He hovers over Ian's name and holds a breath before pressing down, selecting the option to message him.

Stressing over word choice, he takes about a minute to get the first text sent:

Hey we need 2 talk.

Sure. When?

Tomorrow after chem. We'll grab lunch.

Ok…I'll see you then.

C U.

It's the shortest and longest forty-five minutes of Teddy's life. Five minutes after the starting bell had rung, he gave up on caring about the origins of quantum theory and how it's progressed in the world of science since. Today Ian's sitting in front of him and he watches as the shorter man bounces his knee, on and off again—occasionally looking over his shoulder to glance back at Teddy.

Teddy doesn't give anything away though. When he meets those eyes, he decidedly regains an interest in the teacher's lecture. He doesn't miss the flicker of confusion and hurt in Ian's face but he can't bring himself to care…not yet.

The mid-day bell rings throughout the building after a while and Teddy makes his way out his locker, presumes that Ian will be right behind him. He guesses right.

Ian leans against the metal doors and Teddy tries not to fidget under his gaze. Fitting his stuff into his locker, he states, "We're taking my car. I got us reservations at La Scala so I hope that you're in the mood for Italian."

In his peripheral, Teddy sees Ian nod and swallow thickly. He takes comfort in the fact that he isn't the only one undone. "That's fine…whatever you want."

The drive over is mostly quiet. Teddy and Ian exchange pleasantries, compliment California on being sunny and then mutually settle on listening to the radio the rest of the way. When they arrive at the restaurant, per Teddy's request they're seated at the back where it's dimly lit and private.

After the waitress has taken their order and left, Teddy gives his full attention to Ian. Not wanting to beat around the bush any longer and tired of keeping everything inside, he simply declares, "I need you to tell me that you're the person that I believed you to be before you blackmailed me." Ian is momentarily startled and Teddy uses the moment to tell him, "Because I want you to be and I think that you are but I can't rely on myself, my instincts anymore when it comes to you." He pauses, hating how much he's already revealing—how fucking brainless it is. He bluntly and sternly questions, "So how is it?"

Nothing wavers in Ian when he answers, "I've never pretended to be anything that I'm not around you, Teddy. I swear. Every good thing you ever saw in me is real. Don't let—it was a mistake. What I did was a terrible, inconsiderate and selfish mistake and I'm by no means trying to lessen the ramifications of it or make excuses but it was only a mistake." He moves his hand onto the table with a purpose but balls it into a fist, as if remembering himself. With strong determination, he adds, "That's not who I am."

"How can I trust you? Those are just words," Teddy says.

Ian tucks his bottom lip behind his teeth thoughtfully. Regretfully, he replies, "Right now that's all I have." All Teddy's allowing him to have.

"I gave you more. Ian, you had my insecurities and my doubts and you threw them back in my face." Teddy's voice cracks at this part, wrecked memories coming to play, "Ever fear I had about being gay, you knew. How could you use that against me?"

"I've asked myself the same thing. And there's no answer that makes sense, I don't know how it made sense in my mind at that time. I just—It was all about what I wanted." Ian confesses apprehensively. "I wanted you out for my own sake and yours. I wanted to hold your hand in public. I wanted you to stop having to glance over your shoulder. I wanted you to be honest with your friends. I wanted you to stop feeling guilty about who you are, having to cover with everyone. I wanted to stop feeling guilty because I wanted you out so badly."

Teddy has to look way because of how earnest Ian is; he can practically hear the pieces fitting together. His view of the other occupants of the restaurant shutters as he blinks often and rapidly. Teddy spots the waitress returning but she turns back around when she sees him, the situation. Once she's gone, he sighs weakly, "You couldn't have told me this instead of going behind my back?"

Ian reaches out and touches his arm, doesn't let Teddy's flinch discourage him. "Teddy, look—please, please look at me." Teddy does and is taken aback by Ian's shining eyes, the raw emotion there—the haunting. "I didn't know how. You were so adamant about staying in the closet, I was afraid you'd think I wasn't worth the time. You could have figured out associating with me and staying in the closet could be totally exclusive from each other, that you didn't' have to deal with me if you didn't want to."

"No." Teddy bites out, not out of anger but disappointment. "I could have never felt that way. My feelings for you weren't…" He stops. Re-evaluates and goes. "…aren't about being gay. I always knew I was gay. That wasn't a revelation. Thinking of a guy in that way wasn't new to me. But being in love—that was. It still is."

Ian does the cliché intake of breath and Teddy laughs wobbly at that. Because really? Such a damn theatre kid.

The hand on his arm travels down, past the sleeve of his shirt and fingers make way in between his. And it feels so right and good. The soft lips that press there are soothing. "Ian…" he whispers.

"Teddy," Ian murmurs against the skin of his hand. He raises his head back up and his smile is the biggest that Teddy's ever seen it, happy and unrestrained. "Teddy. I love you. I love you too."

Teddy's whole being tightens at that, becomes unbelievably warm. There's so much that he wants to say and do but he can't, not until Ian knows the whole truth. He clears his throat, watches Ian carefully. "I still haven't forgiven you yet. It's going to take a while for me to trust you like I did before. If you're not up for that—"

Ian hurriedly interrupts, eager and sharp. "I'm up for it. I'm up for it. I'm in, Teddy. Whatever you want, I want."

"I needed you and you let me down—"

"It won't happen again."

"Please don't let it. God, Ian—don't." Teddy says desperately.

"Won't," Ian breathes.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have an obnoxious assortment of plaid shirts? Along with your lifetime supply of white pants, I'm not sure how anyone didn't know that you're gay," Ian proclaims from the inside of Teddy's walk-in closet.

He's helping to pack Teddy up for college. Although Teddy has half a heart to reconsider how helpful Ian actually is. They both figured that while they weren't fond of having to leave each other in the coming weeks, it was something that had to be done and could be done together. The summer had gone by quickly, so fast Teddy had felt his head spin at some point. The first part had been about he and Ian getting reacquainted, fitting back into each other's lives. It'd taken a lot of convincing from Teddy—and a few games of remember when you did this— but his friends had welcomed Ian back in and made him feel like a part of the group. It'd been one of the greatest sights Teddy's ever seen, Ian laughing and making jokes with with Liam, Dixon and Navid, as if nothing ill had ever transpired—as if he'd been with them since the beginning.

Teddy had also come out to his dad. Not with Ian by his side because ever since Tripp, he'd been planning to do it—if he ever chose to—on his own, his pride not letting him have it any other way. His dad hadn't been completely okay with the idea but he hadn't shunned Teddy either. Gradually coming around, he'd even went as far as to arrange a dinner for he, Teddy and Ian last month. He'd been reluctantly impressed by Ian's film knowledge.

In turn, Teddy had met Ian's family. A close knit clan that had welcomed Teddy with open arms, greeted him happily and told embarrassing stories of Ian at every chance. Teddy had liked them immediately, so many of Ian's personalities spread throughout his parents and siblings.

And after the introductions and re-introductions, things had blossomed for them. Spending late nights on the beach, having random road trips whenever they felt like, learning and exhausting each other's bodies, getting into fights, touching smiles—the best summer of Teddy's life.

"Hey!" Teddy exclaims from his place at his dresser, feigning offense. He runs into the closet, creeps up behind Ian and wraps his arms around the shorter man's waist, lifting him with little effort. He walks them back into the bedroom.

"Teddy!" Ian yelps in surprise, soon dissolving into laughter. "I was kidding! I was kidding!"

His pleas do nothing for him though because he's thrown onto bed, Teddy crawling over him on his fours. Teddy sits on Ian's thighs, careful not to bring down all of his weight but enough to keep Ian put. He shakes a finger at him, "You are an awful helper. The deal was that if you helped me pack earlier in the week, we'd have more time to spend together before I had to head to school. If you're wasting time critiquing my clothes, how's that supposed to happen, huh?"

"Oh and going all Neanderthal on me is working wonders is it…Teddy Bear?" Ian smirks, wriggles his brows and lower body suggestively.

Teddy wrinkles his nose at the endearment, a name that he still can't get Ian to let go of. "Ugh. I hate that."

"I think it's fabu," Ian responds in a fond voice, grinning absurdly before adding, "like you."

Teddy leans forward so that their foreheads touch, noses mingle. He eases up and waits for Ian to widen his legs before settling in between them. He then drops a kiss onto the corner of Ian's mouth swiftly. "Says the man with the name Ian. Nothing horribly teeth-aching can be made with that."

"Ha, you've got a point. Okay 'Teddy Bear' is off-limits for the next two hours," Ian states amused.

Teddy laughs, "Gee thanks, Ian. It's almost like you're generous." He sobers a little and grips at Ian's sides, maybe too tightly and possessive but he's taken over by a desire to never let this moment between them finish. Quietly he shares, "I'm really going to miss you."

Ian frowns, reaching up he brushes his fingers along Teddy's fringe, traces a line down to his jaw. He lets his thumb sweep Teddy's bottom lip gently. "Baby, we're going to be seeing each other every other weekend at least."

Flushing, Teddy nods, "I know but it's hardly the same. You've fucking spoiled me." He narrows his gaze in suspicion, challenging. "Are you saying that you're not going to miss me as much as I'm going to miss you?"

Ian smiles and gives Teddy a heartfelt kiss, pecks him three more times before pulling away. "Not at all, just trying to give you a bright side to look at. I'll miss you just as much, Teddy." He tilts his head to the side, considering. "Maybe even more."

Affection flares in Teddy's chest. He dips his head to bury it in Ian's shoulder. "Not possible." He whispers fiercely, wondrously, "Feelings like these, they don't come around every day, do they? Sometimes I can't even breathe, Ian. No one—God, you're it. Tell me that you know that. Make me feel so—so fucking Harlequin. People don't feel like this anymore…so deeply. It's insane."

Ian's arms cross over Teddy's shoulders and back, dry lips ghost over his temple. "Nah, it's the opposite." Boldly he goes on, "Crazy is like that yellow tape that wards people away from crime scenes, away from mystery. Fooling people into thinking it's wrong to venture into anything unknown, to take chances. It's brave, Teddy, to love the way that you do is brave, not insane."

The End

Comments and critique? I adore it :)