Alistair was due to come over tonight, in hopes of coaxing Carlisle out to a bar for the first time since everything with his father had happened. My boyfriend was conveniently finishing work early, a little excited to be going out despite his nerves. I wanted to have a little bit of time with him before his friend got here, though, so I was going to pick him up to cut out the time of his walk home. For the last few days, he had been a little 'off', but I put it down to learning to cope with a new job and just wanted to check on him. It was almost time for him to be leaving, so I figured waiting in the lobby wouldn't be breaking any laws.
The official nature of his new office meant that the place wasn't as casual about my presence as the bookshop was, so I'd let a few weeks pass before I dared to visit Carlisle at work. The last thing I wanted was to get him in trouble with his new employer.
My heart fluttered nervously as I parked outside of the building, my stomach, and I offered the guy behind the reception desk an awkward smile as I pushed open the door. It was definitely more formal here; there were people marching about the place like they were on a mission, all business suits and harsh expressions. To rub it in, the air conditioning was set on fucking arctic coolness, making it seem even more uninhabitable and the hair rise on my arms.
I wasn't sure I liked the thought of Carlisle being in a place like this. He might have worked hard to get here, but he seemed too little and sweet to be here; it was far too grey - and fucking freezing. Part of me wished I had stayed in the car, so I didn't have to see it and worry about it.
"Can I help you?" the man asked, looking me up and down.
I folded my arms self-consciously. "Ah, I'm okay...just waiting for my, um, friend." The word was bitter in my mouth, but I didn't want to throw my boyfriend under a bus if he hadn't told them about us.
He just nodded, gesturing to the row of chairs.
I sat, feeling too out of place to do anything else. Folding my hands in my lap, I twiddled my thumbs. The bustle down the hallway made eavesdropping far too tempting, and I eventually managed to zone in on something I could understand. Unfortunately, It wasn't something I ever wanted to hear.
"You'll do whatever I ask, Cullen, you don't get to say 'no'," a deep voice growled, a door slamming a second later.
My nerves bristled, and I swallowed back a wave of anger, already standing. It was a damn good thing that Carlisle literally stumbled into me, stopping me from going down the hallway. I expected him to hug me, like he usually did, but he just snatched the sleeve of my jacket and pulled me toward the door before I could close my arms around him.
"Carlisle-"
"You can't be here," he hissed at me, turning to face me once we were on the sidewalk. His breathing was jagged and uneven, and he was fighting tears.
"What happened?" I ignored that he'd snapped at me, knowing it wasn't really directed at me.
"Let's just go home," he mumbled, walking away before I could touch him.
"Carlisle…" There wasn't much I could do about it, so I just followed him to the car. "Hey…what was that about?"
"Please can we go home?" He looked sick, and I sighed as I started the car.
"What happened? He's not allowed to speak to you like that."
"He can speak to me however he likes; he's the one who got me to come up here." Still looking like he'd burst into tears at the slightest push, he focused on the road, refusing to look at me.
"What's wrong, though?" I pressed, reaching over to place my hand on his leg.
His shoulders became stiff, and his fingers dug into the upholstery of the seat.. "...he wanted me to do something I couldn't, a-and he's upset with me because I won't do it…" he admitted shakily. "Let's just go home?"
I nodded and gave in; there wasn't much point in me arguing with him about it. "Do you want to stop for dinner-"
"Take me home?" he interrupted, pleading again and only becoming more agitated. "Please?"
Sighing, I left it alone completely; I didn't want to fight with him tonight, and that was where this was headed. I didn't bother trying to speak to him as I locked the car and unlocked our apartment, throwing the key down on the bench once I was inside. Stalking into the kitchen to make myself something to eat, seeming as my boyfriend didn't want it, I left him to shut the front door.
He hesitated, leaning back against the wood and folding his arms behind him. "Gar...I'm sorry for snapping at you...it's not your fault, and I didn't mean to take it out on you…" he murmured after watching me for a few seconds. "...sorry…"
I gave up on making food for a moment, winding my arms around his waist. A huge surge of relief that I didn't expect rushed through me as he hugged me back. "Rough day, huh?"
Nodding, he buried his face in my shoulder. "Thanks for coming to get me…"
"That's okay. I feel like I've barely seen you since you moved up there." Squeezing him, I kissed his cheek. One of the conditions of him actually going with Alistair, was that I went too, and spending the night together was going to be wonderful.
He groaned, scrubbing his hand across his face. "Sorry...Do you know what time Allie is coming? How long do we have?" It didn't escape my notice that he was still reluctant to contact his friend himself, and his hesitancy to go seemed to be outweighing his excitement.
"Another hour or so," I promised, starting to frown as his hands tightened around me. "...Do you actually want to go out?"
"Yeah- yeah, I do, I'm just nervous...it's kind of been a while since I've seen everyone, and…" Swallowing hard, he watched our feet. Whatever had happened at work had knocked him quite badly, and I just hoped it wouldn't taint tonight. "You'll still come…?"
Nodding, I pressed more kisses against whatever exposed skin I could reach. "I promised you I would."
.
.
I watched him as he quickly swallowed his medication just before we headed out the door, frowning. "They'll make you tired if you take them," I reminded him.
"Yeah, but...I'll have a panic attack if I don't…" Fidgeting slightly, he was starting to look unsure of himself.
"Not the sleeping pill, though, right?"
He shook his head. "...remind me to take it when we get home?"
"Of course." I kissed him cheek, wrapping my arm around him as we made out way down the stairs.
His hands were shaking as he opened the door of the taxi, but he was smiling again as Alistair pulled him into a tight, crushing hug. Randal offer us a friendly smile from the front passenger's seat.
We ordered a round of drinks while we waited for the others, and I sat in an awkward silence with Randal while Alistair and Carlisle were somewhat absorbed in each other, seemingly forgetting that we were here as well. My boyfriend was still touching my leg under the table, though, fidgeting with my jeans. I didn't really care that much if he wasn't focused on me; it was just nice to have Carlisle talking again.
It wasn't until the rest of the group came over to us that Carlisle abruptly grabbed my hand, in a panic. Giving his fingers a light squeeze, I tried to reassure him again. He shuffled a little closer to me as everyone rearranged so we could all sit at the same table – quite a tight squeeze – and I could see him start to worry as why he'd been MIA for the last few months was immediately brought up.
Thankfully, Alistair noticed this too, and jammed himself next to us so that Carlisle wasn't trapped between anyone else. "We've got you back now, that's all that matters, right?" he laughed, trying to get off the subject when he couldn't respond.
It seemed to satisfy them; they were more worried about beer than anything else. Breathing a sigh of relief, Carlisle relaxed a little, taking a careful sip of his drink and resting his head against my shoulder. I wrapped my arm around his waist and rubbed his side. "You okay?" I asked him quietly, hoping he wouldn't freak out.
He nodded and kissed my neck. "I'm okay."
"Tired already, Carlisle?" Alistair teased him. His smile was slightly concerned though, and he reached down to touch his hand.
"I'm alright," he repeated, laughing a little now. "You two are mothering me."
"Yeah, well, you look like you're going to fall asleep and it's barely ten o'clock." He nudged him in the ribs so he jumped into me, amused.
We downed a few more shots, until my head was pleasantly fuzzy. Full of liquid courage, Alistair abruptly grabbed Carlisle's hand, pulling him to his feet. "We're dancing," he announced.
My boyfriend immediately backpedalled. "No- I can't, Allie, I-"
"Shush. You're dancing with me." He was already all but dragging him into the crowded dance floor, beginning to blend into the writhing mass of bodies. Randel and I were forced to watch on as he unapologetically grinded against him. Carlisle looked bewildered, struggling to keep up with what was happening as his friend moved against him but glancing around for escape. The thumping bass meant that I couldn't hear what they were saying to each other, and I exchanged an awkward smile with Randal once we realised we were alone.
"You don't want to go too, do you?" he asked me, pulling a face.
"No way," I laughed, shaking my head. Not with him, anyway; it could be a different story if I could get my hands on my boyfriend.
"Thank god. Carlisle can be our sacrifice."
"It'll do him good to have some fun; he needs this." A smile was impossible to hide as my boyfriend's resolve broke and he laughed, letting Alistair do what he pleased with him. As uncoordinated as he claimed to be, he moved well with a little guidance, and they did look good together.
"I'm just glad it's not me," he chuckled.
"Yep." I couldn't deny that I wasn't at least a little bit jealous, seeing Alistair's hands all over my boy. Sitting with Randal was nice, though; we were both a little on the outside of the group, and had a surprising amount in common once we got talking; it was just nice to be included in something.
.
.
Eventually, Carlisle broke free, stumbling into me as the alcohol made him unsteady. It set us both off laughing, and I leaned down to kiss him. "Alistair is quite the dancer," I teased him.
He groaned, a light flush in his cheeks as he realised that we'd watched the whole thing. "Please, don't feed his ego." It didn't stop him from laughing, though.
"It's nice to see you smiling again." I pulled him closer, resting my chin on the top of his head as he leaned against me. "You're tired, though, aren't you?"
"I'll live; I haven't seen them in ages, I can't run away now," he pointed out.
I nodded; there probably would be a fuss if I tried to take him home just yet. Wanting to keep him on his feet a little longer, I pulled him back toward the mass of people.
"No- Garrett, I don't dance- you know that, what are you doing? Garrett!" His protest was drowned out by the bass of the music, and he was laughing too much for it to be serious.
"You're fine," I teased, holding his waist to get him closer to me. He wrapped his arms around my neck, standing on his toes to kiss me. I let my lips move against his, fidgeting with his clothing until I could get my fingers against his skin. With the way we were going, we were fast approaching the point where what we were doing could be considered foreplay as opposed to dancing, but I didn't care. "God, you're gorgeous…"
He kissed my neck, his teeth nicking my skin as he tangled one hand in my hair, the other grabbing a fistful of my shirt between my shoulder blades. "I love you."
"I love you too." Brushing my lips over his, I deepened the kiss, pulling him closer and closer until we were violently jolted apart by the other dancers. I felt my face get hot; what we were doing wasn't exactly appropriate – not that we were the only ones doing it – and I was fast reaching the point where I needed him home in the privacy of our own bedroom, not surrounded by people. I took a breath to steady myself and stepped back. "I'm going to get another drink, do you want one?"
He nodded, following me to the bar and locking our fingers together. Although he swallowed the shot quickly, he looked a little nauseous. He was wobbly on his feet as well, and I suspected that the last drink really hadn't been a good idea.
We sat at the bar for a bit, and I waited for Carlisle to feel a little more steady; I didn't usually like dancing, but I was tipsy enough that it was a bit of fun. After a while, he pushed himself up off the stool, leaning against the countertop as he faced me. He mumbled something about going to the bathroom and sort of stumbled away.
.
.