Just some fluffy domestic stuff
The rest of the week went alright after that. I went to work like I was supposed to, and Carlisle seemed to be managing okay again. His company enrolled him in some kind of course held at the closest university which he was to start in a couple of weeks, and I returned to the same monotony that my job always was - boring, but stable at least. As much as I tried to pretend that staying home with him was a pain in the ass, I could have easily spent every day with him like that, if it didn't mean that he was feeling like shit. It made me a bit guilty that got enjoyment out of something that made him miserable.
Riley had appeared at my desk the moment I'd put my stuff down, and I slowly turned on my computer as I waited for him to come out with whatever it was he was about to. I didn't have to wait long. "Are you going to explain to me why you abandoned me yesterday? I had to eat lunch all alone." That was a total lie, and he was grinning like an idiot; pretty much everyone in the office got on well with him. He had plenty of friends to choose from.
I rolled my eyes at him, considering my reply as I logged into my computer desktop. "I had to stay home with Carlisle."
He huffed playfully. "You can't stay home every time he feels a little bit sick," he teased.
"He wasn't sick, he was upset, and…" I trailed off, not sure what to tell him and seeing his faint disapproval. As much as I loved him, I knew he was just after gossip and that he was never going to understand what was happening at home. There wasn't much I could tell him anyway.
"Same thing. He's an adult, Garrett, people get sad sometimes; he can handle it." A bit annoyed, he shoved the leg of my chair with his foot, rolling me backwards and away from my desk.
My nerves bristled, and I tried not to be irritated with him. "I know that, Riley, but I've never seen him get that way before. He wasn't doing well, and I can't just leave him by himself while he isn't coping. You would do the same for Victoria," I reminded him, perhaps a little too briskly.
"Yes, but she doesn't ask me to, so I don't," he grumbled.
"He didn't ask either; I offered."
"Even worse." A sigh hissed through his teeth, and then his smile returned. "You're buying coffee at lunch today; I'll buy the cake."
There was no way I would be eating anything from the place that he had in mind, but the weather outside had soured and a hot drink did sound good. "Fine, just go back over there," I told him, gesturing to his seat across the room. He hadn't gotten as far as turning on his computer yet, and his bag was still unpacked on his desk - he was going to get himself in trouble if he didn't hurry up and settle.
"You can't rid of me that easily, Gar," he teased, wandering over anyway. That name wasn't cute out of his mouth.
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My job seemed extra tedious that day. Whether it was brought on by Carlisle's change of career title or not, I was full of raw nerves, and my co-workers were hitting every one of them. It felt like years before it was finally home time, despite me sneaking out five minutes early while everyone else talked about their weekend plans, and I was well aware that I hadn't been fun to be around all day.
The apartment was silent when I unlocked the door. The pitter patter of Fox's feet quickly tumbled down the hallway toward me, and I picked her up to dull the sting of Carlisle having gone to work. He'd been avoiding being there as much as possible all week, but still sucked it up enough to go in for a few hours each day as he tried not to piss anyone off. I didn't know when he'd left today, so I couldn't judge when he was going to be home, and I sat on the couch to sulk for the period that I was alone. My heart was beating a little too heavily as the anxiety of him being gone refused to calm, and it wasn't helped by my head being fuzzy from not eating all day.
His key in the lock tore my concentration from the TV. I jogged forward the few feet to rip open the front door, immediately tugging him inside and into my arms once he was in reach. He laughed out of shock, slipping his arms around my waist. "Everything okay, Gar?" he asked softly.
I squeezed him a little tighter, feeling a bit dumb for how impulsive that all was. "Yeah, sorry, I just...didn't have a good day, and I feel a bit shit, and I missed you."
He gently brought his lips to mine, softly sifting his fingers through my hair. "You're alright, though?"
"I'm fine, Carlisle." Now that he was home again, anyway.
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We made dinner together that night. I got under his feet the entire time, and he eventually put me on vegetable peeling duty once I proved too distracted to not let the pots boil over. There wasn't going to be any complaints from me; Carlisle had showered and changed before we had started, still with wet hair and having stolen my sweatshirt, needing to push the sleeves back to keep his hands and forearms exposed. He looked particularly cute. Leaning the small of my back against the bench, I watched him while he managed the pans. A smile persistently tugged at the corners of my lips; he didn't enjoy cooking that much, and didn't usually stray far from what he already knew how to make, but this recipe was new to him and had him a bit flustered.
"Your mother makes this all the time? Are you sure it turns out okay?" he asked me, hiding a worried note in his voice. Mum had given us the recipe last time we had visited, a dish that she'd been cooking for me and Eleazar since we were kids.
I decided to put him out of his misery and actually help. "It'll be fine once it's finished; you'll like it," I promised. I stole the spoon from his hand, nudging him with my shoulder so he stepped away from stove.
He just smiled. "Whatever you say, Gar. You Americans like the weirdest things, sometimes." His hand landed against my spine, his fingertips trailing up my back. After a moment, the smile faded into a frown, and he leaned his head against my shoulder. "You haven't eaten at all today, have you?" he asked quietly.
"No, but I'll be eating in a minute," I reminded him. I leaned down to kiss his temple, quickly wanting to change the subject before it got uncomfortable. "How was work?"
"It was...better, I guess. I didn't freak out today at least." His voice was quiet, shy. "I can't wait to be done there." His attention wandered to our cupboards, and he pulled a couple of plates out from under the bench.
Trying not to let him focus on it too much, I stole a fork, scooping up some of the food from the pan once it was cooked. "Here, try this." I held it out to Carlisle.
He reluctantly took it from me, seeming unconvinced until he actually tasted it. "It's good," he admitted, laughing at himself for his hesitance. "Your mother is a good cook."
"You made this, Carlisle, not mum," I reminded him. Sneaking my hands onto his waist, I pulled him closer again, placing a kiss on his forehead.
"Yeah, but it's her recipe."
"Doesn't matter."
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We ate in front of the TV like we usually did, Fox impatiently settled on the couch between us in her quest to steal food from either of our plates. I pretended not to see as Carlisle purposefully slid a piece of chicken off of his fork, failing at hiding a smile when she snatched it from him. If her purring and him trying not to laugh hadn't given him away, her immediately trying to get something from me certainly did. I pushed her back into him, biting my lip to stop myself chuckling as she tried to bite me. "Don't feed the kitten your dinner," I teased him.
"She's hungry too," he teased back. Having finished eating, he set his plate down and scooped the cat up.
I rolled my eyes and turned back to my meal, pretty much shoveling it down my throat so that I would be finished too. Everything felt a bit better now that I was with Carlisle and I had something in my stomach - especially while he seemed at least semi-happy for the time being. "It's nice seeing you smile again, after you were so 'down' yesterday," I told him once I'd finished, setting my plate on top of his and slipping my hand onto his knee.
My statement made the heat rush to his face, and he was quiet for a minute. "Sorry, I don't really know what happened. I shouldn't have freaked out like that, but everything got too much, and…" His fingers covered mine, and he pulled his knees up so that he could lean sideways against me. "I'm really sorry; you shouldn't have to look after me like I'm your child."
I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. "It doesn't feel that way, Carlisle; even if things are rough at the moment, it doesn't feel like our relationship is any different to everyone else's. Riley thinks I baby you, though."
He groaned, his voice muffled by the fabric of my shirt. At first, I thought he was annoyed that I'd told someone else, but his quiet laugh suggested not. "He's right; you kind of do."
"Well, I wouldn't have to if you didn't forget how to feed yourself," I chuckled. It was a relief to be laughing about it; I wasn't sure what I was going to do if I wasn't allowed to say anything - it was going to be too much to deal with.
He winced, guilty. "At least I can still clean the cat's litter box, I guess?" He was right; of all the things he couldn't function enough to manage with, cleaning up after Fox wasn't one of them. And thank god, because I certainly did not have the stomach for it.
"You're such a dork; I love you." Marry me. Kissing his cheek, I squeezed him tightly against me for a second, pushing the thought out of my head; things were way too uncertain for us to be thinking about that. I wanted it though. Badly. The thought made my heart flutter so much it was embarrassing, and my whole body a little too warm. I slowly let Carlisle go, shifting forward in my seat. "I need to shower," I told him when he frowned. More, I needed to calm down before I worked myself up into a state.
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Whoever had designed our new kitchen, I loved them. The cupboards above the sink were just high enough to be out of Carlisle's reach, even when he stretched up on his toes to put the dishes away. I watched him trying to set a cup up there, letting him get a little flustered with the task before sneaking up behind him. I trailed my fingertips up his sides, letting my hands wander across his shoulder blades and up his neck, running my fingers through his hair and tilting his chin back so that I could kiss him. "Struggling, Carlisle?" I teased. I covered his hands with mine, taking the cup from him but not letting him step back from the counter.
He tried to turn to face me, struggling not to giggle as he realised he was trapped. Instead, he just leaned his weight back on his heels to push lightly against me. "I guess we didn't measure the shelves before we moved in," he teased back.
The mugs clinked together as I shoved them into the cupboard and pushed it shut, immediately dropping my arms down to coil them around Carlisle's waist, squeezing him against my chest. The fabric of his shirt shirted up, letting my skin rub against his. The warmth of his body soaked into mine, and I tugged him backwards until I was fully responsible for his weight, pressing a kiss against his throat. "Perhaps you should have grown," I murmured to him.
This time, he couldn't control a laugh. "Maybe you're just a giant."
I was pretty sure that being held the way I had him was making him very aware of the height difference between us. I couldn't say I didn't like it; I like it a lot, in fact. "Alistair and I are the same height," I reminded him, shifting my hold on him so that he had to really stretch to keep his feet on the ground. Amusingly, being mostly responsible for his weight didn't off-balance me at all, and it was rather comforting.
Twisting, he forced me to loosen my hold on him, edging around to face me. He wrapped his arms around my neck and leaned up to bring our lips together, pulling himself up to get closer to me. "Either way; I love this place."
I love you. I reached up and laced our fingers together, placing another kiss on his forehead and pulling his hands away. Despite the season, the rain was really starting to poor outside, and it made me want to shiver despite the warmth of the house. I instantly tugged Carlisle's hoodie closer around him. "Do you want to finish watching our movie?" It was still paused on the TV still, but I knew he actually wanted to go to bed.
"Come." He grabbed a fistful of my sweatshirt, tugging me toward the longue again. Falling into a heap on the couch, he pulled me down next to him. His hand snuck onto my thigh as I pushed play on the remote, slowly rubbing my leg. Already, he was fighting falling asleep.
I wanted to try it. Doing it while we were standing with the chance of hurting him was too risky, but it wouldn't matter if I dropped him while we were sitting like this. He wrapped his arms around my shoulder as soon as I leaned over him, resting his forehead against my neck as I slipped my arms behind his back and under his legs. If he'd gotten a fright when I'd picked him up, he didn't show it, quickly relaxing into me. I kept my arm around him once he was in my lap, slowly running the fabric of his pants through my fingertips. "Tired?" I asked, shifting my hand to squeeze his shoulder.
He nodded, teasing slow circles against my chest. "I'm nervous about starting that course."
"I know, Carlisle, but remember if you hate it then you don't have to keep doing it," I reminded him. Reaching over, I grabbed the blanket off the arm of the couch, draping it over his shoulders; I could last out the movie, but I doubted he could; he was already falling asleep. It prompted him to shift slightly, making sure that I was enveloped under the cover as well and rubbing my side.
It took all of five minutes for him to fall asleep. I struggled to keep my eyes open until the credits rolled across the TV screen and then gently shook him awake; selfishly, I needed sleep as much as he did, and I couldn't sleep comfortably without him anymore. "Bed," I told him when he glanced up in confusion.
"Thank god," he sighed, unfolding himself from me. He turned to offer me his hand to pull myself up once he was standing, and I gladly took it.
"You just slept through the whole thing," I teased, kissing his temple. "You can't still be tired."
"It was a boring movie." Smiling, he kept his fingers around my wrist, guiding me down the hallway.
"You chose it." I locked my free arm around his waist and pushed him into our bedroom. I slowly stripped down to my underwear while he fussed around, brushing his teeth and straightening the bed enough for us to sleep in it. My smile refused to budge, despite how long it was taking him to fuss around. Even though he was yawning every couple of minutes, he still disappeared from the room for a few minutes, unable to stomach going to bed without following whatever finicky routine he'd created for himself. I just got between the sheets and lay down; I couldn't do anything to make him hurry up, no matter how badly I just wanted him beside me. "Happy?" I teased once he finally crawled in beside me.
His face warmed, and he quickly leaned over to switch off the light to hide it. His hand landed on my chest, followed by his cheek against my collarbone a second later. "Yeah. I'm happy when I'm with you."
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It was 12AM when I squinted at my phone to see the time, having woken up to find myself alone in bed and confused as to where Carlisle had gone. The bedroom door was now shut, which we never did so that Fox could come and go at night as she pleased, and I immediately started to worry that something wasn't right. The wooden floors were cold on my feet as I rolled out of bed, and I followed the glow of the kitchen light to the table.
As soon as I saw Alistair was there, I knew something had gone wrong. He had his back to me and didn't see me in the doorway but Carlisle immediately noticed me, quickly shaking his head before turning back to his friend. Alistair apologised and he shushed him. "It's okay, Al. Is this hurting?" As I crept closer, I could see that he was carefully cleaning blood off of his face with a cloth, an angry gash in his forehead.
"What happened?" I asked hesitantly. Part of me already knew the answer, but I just didn't want to believe it.
"It wasn't his fault," Alistair immediately piped up. "I shouldn't have brought up the subject while he was in that state-"
"He was the one that decided to get drunk and throw a bottle at you," he interrupted harshly. "You didn't make him do that." Stepping back, he ran the cloth under the kitchen tap, a wave of red rushing from it under the water.
"I know you don't like him, Carlisle, but he's really not that bad; he's cruel to you because he thinks you're going to try and break us up," he defended. "And don't try anything, because he's only going to try and hurt you." He pulled back, and they started at each other for a moment before my boyfriend rolled his eyes.
"He can do what he likes to me, but I'm going to lose my mind if he does anything to Garrett," he muttered under his breath, not deterred at all. There was a loaded pause before he spoke again. "I don't want him to hurt you again, Al, please don't stay with him."
Alistair batted his hand away from his face as he reached up to start on the wound again. "Just stay away from him;, he's going to keep being cruel to you. No crazy bullshit please; he's like ten feet taller than you, and if he lashes out, you're not going to be able to do anything about it."
"What does height have to do with this?" There was a dark note in his voice that I really didn't trust; it wasn't normal for him.
"Just stop it." That was a plea, and he was tightly holding Carlisle's wrist, forcing him to answer as they stared each other down.
"I won't do anything, Al," he sighed, leaning down to hug his shoulders. "I just hate that he hurts you." That was the end of their argument. Carlisle finished cleaning the cut and made Alistair a warm drink, setting up a makeshift bed on the couch for him. "You're not dizzy, are you? How hard did he hit you?" This time he presented him with an ice pack, managing a worried smile as his friend took it.
"I'm okay, I'm only cut from the glass, I think," he mumbled looking down at his mug.
"Your vision isn't blurry?" His interrogation continued for another few or so, until Alistair managed to convince him that he didn't have a concussion and was lying down on the couch. "Promise to wake me up if you start to feel sick?" He scooped up Fox, setting her in Alistair's arms as he settled under the blankets. The kitten mewed and resisted for a second, but quickly gave in once Al started to pet her.
"Yes, Carlisle." He caught his arm, pulling him down for another hug before he could get away. "Thank you for all this."
"Don't worry about it; just get some rest, Al, you need it." His fingers sifted through his hair as he brushed it off his face, the gentle touch more of a caress than anything else. I felt awkward, like I shouldn't be in the room with them; I'd never seen them be this soft with each other, and I felt like I was invading their privacy. I was itching to get Carlisle back though.
My boyfriend waited until Alistair was entirely settled before coming over to me, immediately reaching for my hand. His hold on me was almost painfully tight, and he was unmistakably upset when I glanced down at him. Leaving on a light in the kitchen incase Alistair had to get up again, he pulled me back toward our room.
"Sorry we woke you up; he called me and said that he was hurt, and I couldn't just leave him, and I didn't want him to be with Randal while he was still like that," he rambled once he'd closed the door. As he spoke, his eyes welled with tears, as much as he tried to hide it from me.
"It's fine, Carlisle," I assured him. "What's wrong?" Holding my hand against the side of his face, I guided his lips to mine, brushing my thumb over his cheek.
"Nothing, I just...hitting me is one thing, but I didn't think he'd do that to Alistair," he explained softly, melting into my arms. "I wish they wouldn't stay together, but Al is on Randal's side and I know he loves him- I don't want him to get hurt again."
I pulled him to bed with me, kissing his forehead, his cheek, along his jaw, until our lips met again. "I know, Carlisle. I don't mind if he stays with us for a while, if that's what needs to happen; I hate Randal as much as you do." Realistically, I was more angry that he'd upset Carlisle again rather than hurting Alistair, as horrible as it was. "Let's just go to bed right now, though? We can talk about it in the morning."
He nodded, slipping between the sheets after me. His hand fell on my chest as I sank back into the pillows, and I slowly rubbed his fingers, letting my eyes fall closed. If nothing else, Alistair and Randal's rocky relationship had made me realise how much I loved the boy in my arms.
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Alistair wasn't feeling too good the next morning. Carlisle promised to stay with him for the day, coaxing him into breakfast and coffee and constantly fussing every time his friend admitted that he was in pain. With the way he'd dealt with the wound, he would have made a good nurse. I couldn't bring myself to be jealous; it was sweet and I could see the comfort was platonic, and that Al really needed it. The way my boyfriend touched him was different to the way he touched me; despite letting Alistair hug him, cuddling into him as they sat together, his hands never wandered, and he didn't relax quite the same as he usually did. I repressed a smile and just went to work.
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