Out of the blue one evening Shawn suggests they invite Tom and his boyfriend over for dinner.
Cory catches himself just before he chokes on his water. He'd been doing quite a good job of not thinking about Tom all night before this. "Why?" he asks.
"Because he's your boss and he's my friend and we've never really thanked him for getting you that job. And we've got the new apartment, so it's a good excuse." Shawn gives him a strange look. "You don't want to?"
"No, no," Cory assures him, "That's fine. It makes sense."
"Everything all right with you guys?"
"Yeah. No, it's fine." Cory hops up from the table, deciding now is a good time to pick up the dinner dishes. "I'll ask him about it tomorrow."
Shawn watches him bring the dishes to the kitchen, then follows him with the glasses. As he helps Cory load the dishwasher, he asks, "Why do I feel like I've become a housewife?"
Cory laughs. "You kinda have."
"Setting up dinner parties and clipping coupons for Go-gurt? Who am I?"
"My mother would be so proud."
"Jesus." Shawn wipes his hands on a dishtowel and as he walks away Cory can hear him muttering, "I need to pick up a heroin habit or something..."
After Shawn has left the kitchen, Cory takes a minute to steady himself on the edge of the sink and to close his eyes. This thing with Tom will be fine. Cory just needs to stop making it into something it's not. He needs to stop obsessing. He needs to stop thinking about Tom with Shawn. He needs to stop think about being with Tom himself. He needs to stop thinking about Tom, period. Tom is his boss. Tom is nice. Tom is an attractive guy. That's it. Tom is also an attractive guy who used to sleep with Shawn, he reminds himself. They "fucked each other's brains out on the regular," he reminds himself. Tom and Shawn fucked long before Cory and Shawn ever fucked...
"God, stop it!" Cory snarls out loud to the empty kitchen. He slams the dishwasher closed and goes to find Shawn.
After checking a few other places, he locates Shawn in Sadie's room. He is sitting at the foot of the bed, watching the guppies. Cory takes a seat beside him.
"It's getting a little green, isn't it?" Cory asks, staring at the algae in the fish tank.
"Yeah, I need to figure out how to clean it."
"I thought the snail would take care of that."
"Not so much, actually. I think if we get a plecostomous it'll help, but I still need to clean the tank regularly."
"Get a what?"
"Plecostomous. Those sucker fish that stick to the side of the glass and eat the algae. I've been...doing some research."
Cory lets this information sink in, then he asks, "Have you gotten any writing done lately?"
"Not really."
Cory puts his hand on Shawn's knee. The writing has not been going well for the past few months and he knows this worries Shawn a lot more than he lets on.
"You wanna go out?" Shawn asks. There's a hint of desperation in his voice.
"It's ten o'clock."
"Cory, we're twenty-nine year-olds, not eighty-nine-year-olds. We can go out past ten o'clock."
Cory really, really does not feel like going out, but he can feel Shawn's antsy-ness practically coursing through his leg muscles. "All right. Nothing too crazy, though, you promise? I gotta work in the morning."
"Oh, I love you, Cor," Shawn says, hopping to his feet and pulling Cory up after him, "Let's get the hell out of here."
Shawn is having a very good time playing pool. He is pleasantly buzzed, the music is great, and it just feels so damn nice to be out of the house at night, at his favorite bar, with Cory. It has been ages. He smiles as he leans against the wall and watches Cory preparing to take his shot. He's wearing one of Shawn's old sweaters, which Shawn loves to see. They always show off his nice shape a lot better than Cory's own clothes, especially his shoulders and his chest. Every time Cory wears stuff like that, Shawn just wants to jump his bones. Goddamn, his mind is wandering. He may be a little bit more than just buzzed.
Cory makes his shot and it's a lousy one, even by the standards at which Cory plays.
"All right," Cory says, moving lazily from the table, "Why don't you wrap this up so we can go home?"
"Are you losing on purpose?" Shawn frowns and takes his place at the table, "That's no fun."
"I always lose when we play."
"Yeah, but usually you lose better than this." Shawn finishes his whiskey and is considering whether or not to ask Cory if they should order another round when he spots his friend Charlie heading toward him. He hasn't seen Charlie in at least a year. "Holy shit!" Shawn yells with a grin, "Now, there's a man who can play some pool!"
"Shawn!" Charlie greets him with a fist-clasp that turns into a hug, "Long time no see, man. What you been up to?"
"Gettin' domesticated," Shawn laughs. Then he realizes that Cory's being left out. "Oh, hey, Charlie. This is Cory."
"Ah! The famous Cory!" Charlie shakes Cory's hand. Charlie is a big, muscular guy, about twice the size of Cory. Shawn finds it amusing to see them together.
"Charlie, we gotta play a game," Shawn says. He notices that Cory looks a bit dismayed but Shawn assures him, "Cor, you gotta see this guy play. He is unbelievable."
"Drinks on me," Charlie says, then points at the table, "Game's on you."
As Charlie heads off to the bar, Shawn leans over the table to finish off his game with Cory. He can do it in about two shots, he figures.
"Hey, what the hell, Shawn?" Cory asks just as Shawn's about to take his shot, "I thought we were going home."
Shawn stands up and sets his pool cue down. "We were?"
"I said I wanted to get home after this game." Cory looks pissed.
"I missed that," Shawn says quickly, "I'm sorry. But, really, Cory, you just gotta see him play. He's amazing. He's pretty much the best person I've played with since my dad died."
"I don't want to watch another game of pool while you get more drunk. I have to work in the morning. It's after midnight already."
"I'm not drunk," Shawn says, feeling very offended by this accusation, "Why're you being a dick?"
"I'm being a dick, Shawn?"
"Yeah. I just want to have a little fun for once before I go back there and have to play housewife again all week and listen to you bitch about how I don't buy the right food and how I don't know how to cook and how it's all my fault that you think you're turning into a fat-ass." As soon as he's done saying this, Shawn knows he shouldn't have, but he's annoyed enough that he chooses not to care. He's so tired of being in the apartment, getting nothing done.
Cory doesn't seem to react to what Shawn has said, at least not in the way Shawn expects him to. Instead of saying something cranky back or defending himself, he just asks calmly,"You want to stay here?"
"Yes. Yes, I want to stay here."
"Fine. Come home whenever you want. I'm going to bed." Cory grabs his jacket and walks out of the bar.
Shawn wants to call after him, but he doesn't. Instead he picks his pool cue back up and finishes off the game in the two shots he'd predicted. Then Charlie arrives with the drinks and it's easy to push thoughts of Cory away for a while. It doesn't feel good, exactly, but it's easy.
Shawn's not sure what time it is when he gets home. It takes him a few tries to get his key in the door, but then he makes it inside and does his best to be quiet. He wobbles on one foot then the other pulling off his boots and dropping them in the hallway. Then he trips over the boots on his way toward the bedroom.
"Shit," he says a little too loudly. He pauses to listen if he's woken Cory, but he doesn't hear anything so he continues on to the bedroom. When he gets there he crawls into bed with his clothes still on and scoots up next to Cory. Cory shoves him off.
"Hey," Shawn protests.
"You stink," Cory says.
"What?"
"You reek of whiskey. Go take a shower. Or sleep somewhere else."
"Cory..."
"Shawn, I have to get up in three hours. I need to sleep."
Full of self-loathing, his happiness from his time with Charlie all evaporated, Shawn gets back up and leaves the bedroom. He considers the sofa and the little two-seater in the office, but eventually he finds himself standing in Sadie's empty bedroom. He heads for the bed and then stops. He will not sleep in his daughter's bed reeking of whiskey, even if she's not here. Instead he lays down on the floor in front of the fish tank. He pulls off his shirt and balls it up to use as a pillow.
He lays there in the green glow of the aquarium and watches the guppies swimming. His last thought before he drifts off is to wonder if fish ever get tired of always having to be moving. He thinks it would be exhausting.
In the morning, Cory wakes up and the first thing he feels is guilt at the memory of having told Shawn to go away. Telling Shawn to go away is not like telling anyone else to go away. Telling Shawn to go away is akin to telling Shawn he is a worthless excuse for a human being and doesn't deserve to be loved. Cory groans and crawls out of bed to go look for him.
He finds him, unsurprisingly, in Sadie's room. Shawn just always seem to gravitate there these days. He looks especially pathetic this morning, shirtless and curled up on the floor.
Cory moves to wake him, get him up off the floor, but then he stops. He remembers Charlie from last night. Charlie with the biceps like Christmas hams. Charlie who was yet another one of Shawn's ridiculously attractive friends he'd probably slept with. Charlie who Shawn stayed out all last night with.
Cory leaves Shawn sleeping on the floor.
Cory's deep in concentration over some footage when Tom comes into the editing bay bearing a folder of brochures that feature happy, extremely fit people all over them performing a variety of gym activities.
"Think you can leave this for an hour or so?" Tom asks, nodding at the footage on screen, "I'll give you a tour of the place in person, see if it's up your alley."
Cory knows he really shouldn't leave work for an hour-it'll just mean he'll either be staying late to catch up or taking stuff home with him, but it's hard to say no to Tom. So they head out and it's nice to be out in the sunshine for a bit, just chatting as they walk. Cory really does like Tom. He's a funny guy and almost relentlessly cheerful. He also has a way of making you feel like everything you say is just the best thing he's ever heard. Cory wonders, not for the first time, why it was that Shawn and Tom only stayed together for such a short time. He's thought for a while that it was probably Shawn's issues with drugs that led to the end of that relationship. He's also thought for a while that, had Shawn not been such a mess during that period, he and Tom would probably still be together. This doesn't make Cory feel any less intimidated around Tom.
At the gym, this intimidation deepens. Tom is far more into this stuff than Cory realized. He walks Cory through the different rooms of equipment and amenities and goes on and on about various types of work-out regimes and their potential benefits relative to "a guy like you." What the hell is a guy like him? A slug, probably, Cory thinks, an out-of-shape loser who hasn't set foot in a gym since high school. Tom must look at Cory and think he is such a joke. For all his friendliness, Tom is probably just thinking it's a matter of time before Shawn also catches on to what a schlub Cory is. And then Tom and Shawn could be free to get together again. And fuck each other's brains out. On the regular.
"Look, it's not like you're starting out in a bad place," Tom says then, "You just gotta bring your A game. I mean, you waited, what? Twenty years to be with Shawn? The last thing you wanna do is lose him to some dope with great pecs."
Cory looks at Tom, notes his tight-fitting shirt, the outline underneath of his own great pecs, what are probably washboard abs, and whatever else a perfect guy is supposed to have. Cory tries to picture what he must look like compared to Tom, what Shawn must think of that. And then he thinks about that Charlie guy from last night, how attractive Cory found the guy's arms to be.
"Where do I sign up?" Cory asks and puts on what he hopes is a good approximation of an enthusiastic smile.
When Cory gets home that evening, Shawn's sipping on a juice box and video chatting with Sadie.
"It's Cory!" Shawn cheers with that great big smile that never fails to make Cory feel better about the world.
"Cory!" Sadie cheers from inside the laptop.
Cory sits down on the sofa and waves at her. It kills him that she has that exact same smile, absolutely kills him. "Hey, Sadie-Bradie. Whatcha guys talking about?"
"Panda bears."
Cory nods sagely. "That's a good topic."
This encourages Sadie and she babbles facts about panda bears for several minutes and describes in great detail a special she watched recently on the topic. While she talks, Shawn gently rubs his thumb over Cory's hand. Cory's not quite ready for total forgiveness about last night, though. He accepts the little bit of affection, but he offers nothing back.
"That's really cool," Cory says eventually when Sadie finally stops to take a breath, "I gotta go make your daddy dinner now, though. I'll see you later?"
"Okay! Bye, Cory!" Cory's pretty sure everything Sadie says always ends in an exclamation point. Ah, to be six again.
Later, as they eat dinner, neither of them says much, the specter of the previous evening still hanging over them. Shawn's playing with his food more than eating it, something he's been doing a lot again recently. This makes Cory uneasy. Shawn still hasn't fully managed to get himself back to where he should be health-wise since that bad period when he first found out about Sadie, and Cory dreads any hint that they might be heading back to another time like that. Still, he orders himself not to nag Shawn about it tonight. Now is definitely not the time.
"So, I asked Tom about coming over," Cory says finally, "Tomorrow night okay?"
"Sure. What's the guy he's seeing's name again?"
"Kyle, I think. Or Ken. No. Kyle. Definitely Kyle."
"Okay. Yeah, I'll order in some stuff. Should be fine."
"Great."
Shawn sets down his fork then. "Are we gonna talk about last night?"
Cory takes a deep sip of his beer and feels his imaginary porcupine quills bristle. "What? About you coming home drunk or about you staying out all night with some ex-boyfriend?"
Shawn frowns. "Ex-boyfriend? Do you mean Charlie?"
"Well, ex whatever he is."
"Ex-guy-I-used-to-play-pool-with?"
"Whatever you want to call it. What'd you guys do together all night? Play pool?" Cory says this last word as if it's a euphemism for some extremely scandalous sex act.
Shawn stares at him for a long moment. Then he rises and steps away from the table. "You know what we did all night? We played some pool. We had a couple drinks. We talked about our kids. And it was great. I had a really good time. I got to feel like a normal guy again for a while."
Cory feels like the floor's dropped out from underneath him. "What's that supposed to mean? How do you not feel normal anymore?"
Shawn hesitates as if trying to find words to explain himself, then he throws his hands up. "Forget it. I don't know what the hell your problem is lately, but I can't take any more of it tonight."
Cory remains seated at the table as Shawn heads off to bed. Normal, normal, normal. What does it mean that Shawn doesn't feel "normal" anymore? That can't be good, whatever it's about. And if being with that guy Charlie made Shawn feel normal again, does that mean that being with Cory make him feel not normal? Puzzling this out, he puts away the leftovers and cleans up the dishes.
By the time Cory heads to bed, Shawn has long since fallen asleep and Cory lays there, watching him sleep and worrying. With all the life-changing stuff that's happened over the past few months-Cory's job and divorce, Shawn's daughter and custody battle, buying a new apartment, setting up house together-they've never really sat down and talked about how just being in this relationship would change both of their day to day lives. Cory knows for himself it's certainly a whole different ballgame than what he's been used to, what a relationship was like with Topanga. And he hasn't really even thought about how different this must be for Shawn, on top of everything else he's been dealing with. Maybe "normal" for Shawn is going out with other people, not being faithful and committed to just one person for the rest of your life forever. "Playing pool" or "fucking each other's brains out" with an endless supply of charming, attractive people like Tom and Charlie-isn't that what normal has meant for Shawn for all these years before Cory came back into the picture? Maybe he's realizing that he misses that. Maybe he's starting to regret jumping into this whole new life with Cory. Maybe that's why he's doing the not eating thing again or why he would come home drunk last night after Cory's not seen him have more than an occasional beer with dinner for the past nine months. Maybe Shawn's realizing he doesn't actually want this but he doesn't have the heart to tell Cory.
This thought is extremely unsettling as he looks over Shawn's silhouette in the moonlight. Cory loves him so much and he doesn't want to lose him. But he also doesn't want to keep him someplace he doesn't want to be.
Feeling sick at the thought, Cory wraps himself around Shawn. In his sleep Shawn murmurs a little and squeezes Cory back.
God, Cory thinks, Please don't let this be the truth.
Shawn combs his hair to one side hastily and frowns at it. Then he combs it all to the other side and frowns some more. He's been growing his hair out for months since Cory likes it long but, frankly, Shawn thinks it looks stupid. He glares at himself under that ridiculous mop of hair and he just sees that insecure little teenage boy from the trailer park trying so hard to look cool.
"Ugh," he groans and combs it all straight back. It flops forward into his eyes almost immediately. "Fuck."
He stomps out of the bathroom and decides he'll get dressed first, then deal with his stupid hair. This task isn't much more pleasant, though. While he's looking significantly better than he did when Cory first came back to New York, Shawn's still having a hell of a time getting back to where he should be, like those two months of falling into such poor shape have permanently fucked up his body. And he's pretty sure his weight has started slipping again. It's just discouraging and depressing. What he hates most of all is that this failure is visible to anyone who looks at him. He'd much prefer to keep his failures private, thank you very much.
He takes his time, trying to find something that is nice at least, though he does his best not to look at himself in the mirror, focusing instead on the clothes. He pulls on jeans, a t-shirt, a button-down, and a sweater, fighting the urge to slip on a second sweater over the first. He returns to the bathroom and gets out the jar of gel that he's been using for the past few months to keep his hair greased back and out of his face; it's the only thing that's keep his growing hair from driving him crazy. But then he stops. Cory's been after him for ages to wear his hair like this again. Maybe that would make him happy tonight. Shawn returns the unopened jar of gel to the medicine cabinet, gives himself one more glare (you skinny floppy-haired trailer trash piece of shit) and then walks out, resolving to avoid all mirrors for the rest of the evening.
He rearranges the throw pillows on the sofa one more time, double-checks that Cecilia's dusted the bookshelves (of course she has), then wanders into the kitchen. He wants, more than anything right now, to pour himself a glass of wine or a shot of whiskey to steady his nerves. Somehow what he thought would be a low-stakes little get-together has turned into a whole other thing. Cory's mad at him about God knows what, Tom's bringing his new boyfriend who Shawn resolutely does not feel like meeting (every boyfriend of Tom's that Shawn's ever met has been horrible), and Shawn's been in a crappy mood since his argument with Cory last night. He doesn't like having Cory mad at him, he doesn't like feeling like his body is publicly betraying him, and he doesn't like that Tom is going to be here tonight doing that fake-friendly-but-really-judgey thing he does.
Shawn doesn't pour himself anything to drink. Instead he takes one of Sadie's string cheeses and goes to sit in her room and watch the fish.
Being in Sadie's room is the next best thing to having her here. Shawn feels comforted by the pictures of the animals, the polka dots, the general atmosphere of Sadie-ness that having her things all in one place brings. He sits down on the bed and pulls off strands of cheese idly while he thinks about his book, tries to figure out why the hell it's suddenly gotten so hard to write after all the other books came so easily. He doesn't think there's anything that different about it-same old characters, same kind of mystery-but it's just not working well this time around.
When the cheese is gone, he lays back on the bed and gazes up at the ceiling. They should put up glow-in-the-dark stick-on stars, he thinks. Cory and Eric had them in their room when they were kids and Shawn had always thought that was the coolest thing. He remembers nights sleeping over, after the two brothers had fallen asleep, Shawn would lie awake, watching the stars gradually lose their illumination, wishing he never had to go home. He makes a mental note to ask Cory what he thinks about the idea.
Cory. What is going on with him? He's just...not himself lately and it's really worrying. He always seems weird when they go out in public, gets angry about the stupidest things. Everything had been fine-or seemed like it was-until a couple of weeks ago. Then he'd started acting cagey. Shawn's starting to wonder if Cory isn't having a harder time coming to terms with being in a gay relationship than he's let on. All those years denying how he actually felt, pretending to be something he wasn't...Shawn had expected this to be a much more difficult transition for Cory, but for months everything has seemed just fine. Now, though...Shawn can't help but notice how possessive Cory is of him when they go places, always putting his arm around him, saying things that let everyone around them know, loud and clear, that they're in a relationship. It's like he's overcompensating. Shawn wonders if Cory's not 100% on board with this big of a transition happening so fast. Poor Cory...Shawn doesn't want this to be so hard for him, but he's not sure what he can do to help...Poor Cory...
Shawn doesn't realize he's fallen asleep until Cory's there, waking him up.
"Hey, Shawnie, I couldn't find you. I was worried."
Shawn blinks and sits up on his elbow."I didn't mean to fall asleep."
"It's okay." Cory sits down beside him, reaches a hand out and touches Shawn's hair. "Are you wearing your hair like this?"
"I was thinking about it." He yawns.
"I love it like that."
"Mmmm." Shawn's about to say something self-effacing about it, but holds his tongue. If it makes Cory happy, then fine.
Shawn stands up and starts to brush the wrinkles out of his sweater. Only he would spend all that time picking out nice clothes, then immediately rumple them up by sleeping in them. He's such an idiot.
"What are you wearing?" Cory asks, smiling bemusedly.
Shawn looks down at himself. "Clothes?"
"No," Cory says simply. "Take the sweater off."
Shawn pulls the sweater over his head. His hair falls into his face again and he pushes it back with some annoyance.
Cory smiles at him. "Do you have a t-shirt on under that shirt?"
"Yeah."
"Take off the shirt, then, and just wear your t-shirt."
"Why?"
"Because I want to be able to look at you all night and know that there's just a teensy layer of cotton between me and your body."
Shawn does what he is told, unbuttons and removes his shirt. Then he stands there in his t-shirt, waiting for Cory's approval. He feels uncomfortably exposed, but also aroused. He likes it when Cory is bossy.
Cory stands up and walks right next to him so they are almost touching, front to front. Cory inclines his head slightly to whisper in Shawn's ear. "Did you put in the order for sushi ahead of time?"
"Yes."
"Did you have Cecilia come this afternoon instead of tomorrow?" Cory's breath his hot against Shawn's neck.
"Yes."
"Did you make sure the white wine was chilled?"
Shawn shivers a little at Cory's lips just barely brushing his skin. "Put it in the fridge this morning."
Cory looks him in the eyes with a manic smile. "What a good little housewife you are."
"Fuck you," Shawn laughs.
"Oh, no, Shawnie," Cory says with a falsely stern look on his face, "We have to wait. We have guests arriving soon." He gives him a maddening little tap on the cheek and then heads out to the kitchen.
Shawn remains standing in the bedroom and takes a deep, shuddery breath. For as much as he feels like he knows Cory Matthews backwards and forwards, being in a relationship with him can still be surprising.
The dinner party starts off being less horrible than Cory had anticipated. He realizes that Tom mainly makes him nervous when he's not actually there and just an idea of himself in Cory's imagination. In real life Tom is charming and generally great at putting folks at ease. This, combined with Shawn's own brand of charm, makes for smooth conversation and easy laughs. Which is good because Kyle turns out to be one of the least enjoyable people Cory's ever met. He's reserved and a bit sour-faced. Very quickly Cory comes to the conclusion that Kyle doesn't like him very much. By the end of the meal, Cory decides the feeling is mutual.
He takes a sip of his wine and watches Shawn telling a story about how Cory practically had a meltdown when they first moved into the dorm room together in college because he couldn't take Shawn leaving stuff out all the time. If anyone else told this story, Cory would feel like he was being made fun of, but Shawn tells it with such obvious affection.
"And he hasn't changed a bit," Shawn finishes with a smile. "If we didn't have the cleaning lady this place would probably have been the setting of a very violent murder-suicide by now. All because I left a glob of toothpaste in the sink, or something."
Tom smiles and holds out his glass while Cory pours him more wine. The guy can drink some wine. "But what makes for a difficult roommate makes for an excellent editor," Tom says.
Shawn's big smile appears then. He's practically beaming, the same way that he does when he talks about Sadie. "He's really good, isn't he?"
Tom nods. "Yeah. You might think it was me doing you the favor," he says, inclining his head toward Cory, "But it was really him doing me a favor. Cory's just got a natural sense for it. You can't teach that to these kids coming out of film school. You can't teach it period."
Cory feels himself blushing. Then he notices that Kyle is wearing an even more sour expression on his face than before. Cory's pleasure at the compliment dissipates.
"This guy, though," Tom laughs, pointing his glass at Shawn, "Worst roommate ever. I feel your pain, Cory."
"I didn't know you guys lived together," Cory says. He notices that Shawn's shoulders have tensed slightly.
"That shithole in the East Village, remember?" Tom says.
"Ugh, the Village," Kyle sighs, "I can't believe you ever lived there."
"Well, luckily," Shawn says, attempting to shut the conversation down, "I'm pretty sure I've killed off all the brain cells that remember much about that period."
"Oh," Tom says, "I wish I could. God, all the fucking strange people at all hours of the day and the drinking and the bad trips...I never knew what I was going to find when I got home. Do you remember the time you broke all that glass? I come home and there's just blood and glass everywhere. I thought he'd been murdered. And I couldn't find him. Couldn't find him anyway. Then, just when I'm about to call the fucking cops, I find him passed out in the coat closet with some girl. Remember that girl? You started hanging out with her all the time after that...What was her name?"
Shawn cocks his head as he pours himself another glass of wine, keeping his gaze fixed on the glass. "That was Anna, actually."
Tom roars with laughter. "The future mother of your child! I hadn't put that together. God, you don't think that was when..."
Cory looks at Shawn with some alarm. Shawn is just staring down at the table, draining his wine glass in one steady guzzle.
Then Kyle, God bless him, tries to change the subject. "So, you were a photographer before you were a writer, Shawn?"
Shawn swallows hard and nods, sets down his glass. "I was," he says, looking up with a pleasant smile that looks natural but that Cory can tell is anything but effortless, "I mean, not for that long. A couple years. A lot of freelance assignments. They liked it, you know, because I didn't really have anything holding me here. No family commitments, or whatever, they could just call me up on a minute's notice and send me off anywhere they needed."
"Sounds amazing," Kyle says.
"It was fun for a while," Shawn says with a shrug.
"All the insane shit he was doing," Tom says with a grin, "and he never once missed a deadline. He was such a shithead, but a total professional too. I always admired that."
"Professional shithead is more like it," Shawn says, getting a laugh from Tom and Kyle. Cory does not find anything to laugh about in this situation. He also does not like the way Tom is practically leering at Shawn.
"How about dessert?" Cory asks, standing up and hastily stacking the dinner plates and chopsticks.
"Yeah," Shawn says, rising as well, and speaking like a posh snob from a 1930s comedy, "Shall we convene to the drawing room, gentlemen?" Tom and Kyle stand up and follow with their wine glasses as Shawn herds them into the living room.
Cory takes the tray of miniature cakes out from the fridge, removes the cellophane, and carries it into the living room where the three men are standing near the window, taking in the view. To his dismay, nobody sits when he comes in. Instead they treat him like a waiter, taking the cakes from the tray as he holds it.
"Shawn's agent Helen recommended the place," Cory says, trying to focus on keeping the conversation light and cheerful and not to focus on the fact that, by being the waiter and needing to hold the tray with both hands, he's currently not getting to try any of the cake himself.
"God," Kyle murmurs, taking a second cake, "These are amazing. Give that woman more than 10%."
Then Shawn notices that Cory's getting shafted in this situation. He takes one of the little cakes and feeds it to him.
"Ugh, you two are adorable," Kyle says in a tone that seems to imply the opposite.
Shawn smiles at Cory, though, a warm and genuine smile, as he feeds him another little cake. Cory smiles back at him around the mouthful of sweetness.
"Enjoy it while you can," Tom says, refilling his glass once again, "You won't want to go near anything like that after next week."
"Why's that?" Shawn asks.
"We're gonna be gym buddies," Tom announces.
"Really?" Kyle says, grinning in a way that makes Cory uneasy.
Shawn shoots him a skeptical look from under his hair. "You're joining a gym?"
"I signed up today," Cory says softly.
"You should come with us," Tom says to Shawn.
"Ah, that's not really my thing," Shawn replies.
"Ugh," Tom laughs, "This guy..." He throws his arm around Shawn. "How much more amazing would he look with some muscle on him?"
Kyle laughs and Cory smiles uncomfortably. Shawn looks miserable. Then to Cory's horror, Tom is pulling up Shawn's t-shirt and displaying his bare chest and stomach to them.
"I mean," Tom says, patting Shawn's chest, "Can you imagine the muscle definition this guy could have if he tried? Hot."
Kyle laughs again and Cory wants to punch the idiot. And Tom too. Poor Shawn's ears are flaming red and he is very carefully not making eye contact with any of them. Tom's arm is still wrapped around Shawn and its that hand that he's holding his glass in. He does not lower his arm to take a drink, though. Instead he leans across Shawn's still-bared body to sip from the glass.
Cory clears his throat and sets the dessert tray down on the coffee table. "You wanna help me with that...thing...in the kitchen, Shawnie?"
Shawn doesn't ask what this "thing" that doesn't exist is. He simply extricates himself from Tom's hold and follows Cory mutely into the kitchen, pulling his shirt back down along the way. Behind them in the living room, Tom and Kyle are whispering and giggling about something.
In the kitchen, Cory pulls Shawn into the walk-in pantry with him and hisses, "What the hell was that about?"
"Forget it," Shawn whispers, "Tom's always been an asshole when he drinks too much."
"I don't like him touching you like that."
"I don't either," Shawn shrugs, still not making eye contact, "But forget it. It's not worth making a big deal about it."
Cory fumes quietly for a moment. Something about seeing Shawn manhandled like that makes Cory's blood boil. "You okay?" he asks.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Shawn brushes his concern off, "Let's just go out there so we can finish this stupid party. This was a terrible idea."
They return to the living room and listen to Tom and Kyle tell some never ending, mildly amusing story about some mutual friend they have with Shawn. Cory doesn't really listen. He's still raging with anger inside. And it bothers him a little, how easily Shawn is able to act like nothing happened, put on a fake smile and appear amused and interested in everything they have to say. His ability to pretend is unnerving.
After a while, Cory excuses himself to go to the bathroom. After he pees, he splashes cold water over his face and takes a few extra minutes to compose himself. When he goes back out to the living room, however, only Kyle is there, sipping wine on the sofa, flipping through a binder of Shawn's old photography clippings. How he found that, Cory's not sure.
"Where'd Tom and Shawn go?"
Kyle doesn't take his eyes from the clippings, just vaguely gestures to the window behind him. Cory looks up and realizes that Tom and Shawn are standing out on the balcony, looking out at the street, their backs facing the living room. Tom has clearly gone out for a cigarette and Shawn is apparently keeping him company. Cory takes note at how close their shoulders are to touching. He sits down in the chair across from Kyle, keeping Shawn and Tom in his peripheral vision.
"He really wasn't bad," Kyle says and Cory has no idea what he's talking about until he holds up the binder to show him one of the clippings, a portrait of a Chinese dignitary accompanying an interview with her. "This one, for instance, is very nice."
Kyle returns the binder to his lap and continues flipping through it. He glances up at Cory, notices where he attention is and smiles a twisted little smile as he brings his eyes back down to the clippings. "It's enough to make you sick, isn't it?"
Cory pulls his attention back to Kyle. "What is?"
"How obviously they both still want each other?"
Then Shawn and Tom are coming back inside before Cory has a chance to respond to Kyle. Cory catches out of the corner of his eye Tom's hand just grazing over Shawn's hip, as if he'd been meaning to rest it there. But Shawn moves, almost imperceptibly, out of his grasp. Cory looks away quickly before he sees anything else. He's grateful when he hears Tom announce that it's late and they should be going.
"Some of us actually have to get up and work for a living," Tom teases, giving Shawn a little jab in the side. It takes everything in Cory's power not to reach out and physically pull Tom's hand away from Shawn.
"He may not have to get up early," Kyle says, rising from the sofa and following them all down the hall, "But he's already made more money in the past year than you'll ever see in a lifetime."
"I don't know about that..." Shawn says modestly.
They reach the front door and Shawn shakes Kyle's hand. "Great to meet you."
"Likewise. I really am a fan of your work."
"Thank you."
Cory shakes Kyle's hand as well and watches as Tom gives Shawn a great big bear hug. Shawn is completely stiff in his arms, but Kyle shoots Cory a meaningful look as Tom holds the hug a beat too long. Then Tom releases Shawn and gives Cory a one-armed hug. "See you in the morning," he says, "This was great."
After they have closed the door and heard the sound of Tom and Kyle tromping down the hallway, Shawn turns to Cory. "God, he is such an asshole. How did I forget that?"
"Why didn't you tell him to keep his fucking hands off you?"
Shawn looks startled by the vicious tone of Cory's voice. "I...I don't know. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it, I guess..."
Cory shakes his head. He's not even sure who he's actually angry at, just that he's so angry he feels like he's going to explode. "I need to get to sleep," he spits out finally, "Will you clean up for once?"
Shawn raises his eyebrows in confusion. "Sure...of course."
"Great." Cory turns his back on him then and leaves him there in the front hall.
"Goodnight!" Shawn calls after him.
"Yeah," is all Cory can manage to say back.