Hello again, as usual I've done a quick grammar check, but I'll fix any huge errors that I missed as I find them. Thanks for sticking around with my uneven updates recently, I've written parts of the next few chapters, so hopefully it'll get a bit more regular over the next few weeks.
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This must be how parents feel when they're sending their kid to school on the first day. I was sure of it. I just wanted today to be over to have him back in my arms again. He was dressed, but barely - his clothing was askew and his hair had fallen in his face, and it was obvious he wasn't feeling good this morning. He was supposed to be starting his course in an hour or so, but he was already running late. Once he was closer, I untucked his sweater where it had caught on his belt, tugging his clothing back into place as he leaned into my chest. I brushed my fingers through his hair when he groaned quietly. "Are the pills helping?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I'm just sleepy," he admitted. He'd gotten out bed with barely enough time to shower, but had given up rushing and resigned himself to just being a few minutes late. The medication wasn't helping him move any faster either.
"Good luck with today. I'm sorry you feel awful, but you look cute," I teased. It was rather chilly this morning which was only making it harder to leave the house; I could have happily spent all day in bed without a complaint. We were barely out of summer, but it felt like snow wasn't too far off. I ran my hands down his arms, gently pushing the sleeves back over his fingers and leaning forward to bring my lips to his. Even after being together for a year and a half, I still found it sweet when he wore my clothing, even more so when I knew he did it because he found it comforting. "I love you."
"I love you too; I'll be alright." He slipped his arms around my waist once I'd let his hands go, not ready to break the contact between us.
"No getting sick; no more sniffling," I chuckled, pressing another gentle kiss against his forehead.
Somehow managing to smile despite himself, he squeezed me a little tighter. "Okay, Gar."
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I was a mess all day at work. I couldn't even park my car well. The whole time, I was expecting to come home to tears and a meltdown, and I wasn't sure that I could handle another panic attack of the same magnitude as the last one. Riley badgered me until I went out for coffee with him at lunch time, but thankfully he didn't drag my other coworkers along too. I still felt awkward around them.
"Will you come over for a beer this weekend? Bring Carlisle?" he asked when we were barely through the front doors. He frowned at my reaction to my boyfriend's name - which was to quickly check my phone screen in case I'd missed a call - and then sighed quietly. "Are you two okay?"
"Yeah, we're fine. We'll come, Riley. Or I'll come. He'll probably come too," I rambled, my brain short-circuiting and making forming a coherent sentence nearly impossible. My head was rushing ahead of me as I struggled not to think of my boyfriend on the other side of town, hoping to god that he wasn't freaking out while he was all on his own. Not that I was doing much better at the moment. Another thought popped into my head that made my feet stop on the pavement. "We can't; my parents are coming for dinner on Saturday."
"Then come to mine on Friday. They're not staying with you, right?" He nudged me forward with his shoulder. "Come on, Garrett, stop avoiding me. I'm not going to force food down your throat." Partly teasing but partly serious, he continued walking to make me keep up with him.
"It's not that, Ry, I just…" It was that. It was exactly that. He knew it too, and there was no lying to him. "Fine, but only if Carlisle will come with me," I agreed hesitantly. I already knew that he probably wouldn't want to go; if he was anxious at work, he was hardly going to want to go out again after he got home. I really shouldn't be using him as an excuse, but I was going to if it got me out of something awkward - I didn't want a meltdown in front of my friend.
He rolled his eyes but didn't comment on it. "Are you sure you're up for watching me eat my sandwich without your boyfriend now then?" he teased me. He pulled it from his pocket as we entered the coffee shop, waving it in front of my face as he grinned. Asshole.
"You're a dickhead," I grumbled, trying not to smile. I could hardly be mad at him; it really was pathetic on my behalf, and it was hard not to love Riley.
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I'd gotten home before Carlisle, and had been stewing about how he'd coped on the couch for an hour by the time he finally came in. I was almost too scared to ask. "How'd everything go?" I grabbed his hand as he came closer, abruptly pulling him down next to me.
"It was good, I guess. Everyone seems nice, and the programmes that we have to use are kind of cool." Tucking his legs under himself, he curled up against my side, resting his head against my shoulder. The tension melted from my body as he spoke, pure relief setting it. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I am now. I was just worried about you." Maybe just a touch over protective. I was finally able to relax now he was home, though. His fingers brushed my side as he leaned in closer, and I flicked on the TV for some background noise. My eyes fell closed as I rested my cheek against the top of his head, my hand wandering up to squeeze his shoulder. "It didn't make you too anxious, being in a room with so many people?"
"It was fine. I didn't get sick at least, and I didn't worry about Caius too much." Capturing one of my hands in both of his, he squeezed it, his fingertips teasing the back of my palm.
"Thank god." It seemed highly unlikely to me that Carlisle would have enough confidence to perform in a job interview if he had chosen to quit, and I couldn't deal with him freaking out every time he had to leave the house any longer. As I spoke, I pulled him into my lap, smiling at the feeling of his arms around my shoulders and his lips against my throat. I didn't know what I was going to do if all of this wasn't over now. "Yeah, I was scared I was going to panic as soon as I got there. I'm sorry I put us through that," he murmured, guilty. He hadn't coughed himself to death either, which was an added bonus. He sat with me a while longer, letting my hands wander over his body and burying his face in my shoulder.
Both of us were tired, and it didn't take us long after dinner to curl up in bed. I struggled not to fall asleep while he was brushing his teeth. My eyelids were heavy, sleep very hard to resist. Rolling over didn't help. I was barely conscious when he lay down beside me, his arms around my waist and his chest pressed against my back. He kissed my neck as he moulded his body to the shape of mine. It was warm, and I could guess why he usually liked being held like this. I certainly wasn't going to fight him on it; I could have stayed in his arms forever. Instead, I trailed my fingertips up and down his forearm, sinking further into the pillows. "Riley wants us to go over to his place for a couple of drinks this Friday," I said quietly.
"Okay," he agreed. It didn't seem to worry him, and I wondered if he was just too tired to really comprehend what I'd just told him.
"We don't have to go, Carlisle," I reminded him, hoping he'd back out. I really didn't want to go; it was already making me anxious.
"Exactly." He kissed me again as I sighed. "But I'm happy to go if you want to."
I fought my way onto my other side so that I could face him. "I don't want to, but I feel like I have to; he's always so tolerant of me. It's not him, it's just that my parents are coming already, and I don't want to have to deal with people two nights in a row." Selfish, selfish, selfish. That's what all this was.
His gentle fingers smoothed the fabric of my shirt against my chest as he frowned. "Perhaps we could see Riley another weekend then? Or reschedule with your parents?"
I thought for a moment, resting my arm across his waist to hold his body against mine. "I think I'd rather get it over and done with; then we can have Sunday to recuperate."
He laughed, his lips brushing mine as he leaned in for a kiss. "He's your friend, Gar, he's not going to do anything horrible to you."
A few weeks ago I would have called Randal the same thing, but I wasn't about to remind him of that.
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The rest of the week passed surprisingly smoothly. Carlisle seemed to be enjoying what he was doing and had managed not to succumb to hayfever, and work was tolerable enough for me. Friday came up almost too quickly, the thought of this weekend looming over me. We didn't have to go anywhere until 8 pm, so we had dinner together before showering; I wasn't going to be able to eat at Riley's place, and Carlisle insisted on us - or rather me - eating before we left. He didn't say anything to me about it, but I knew he was nervous too. Curling up in bed seemed like the best option for both of us.
"When did we become such old people? Shouldn't going out on a Friday night be fun?" he teased, watching me from the foot of the bed as I got changed out of my work clothes. The conversation had been strained between us tonight, but the joke made me smile anyway, a chuckle building in my chest.
"I'll be 30 in a couple of years," I reminded him. "That's almost mid-life crisis territory."
Now it was his turn to laugh. He leaned down to scoop up fox as her nose pushed at his ankles, weaving her tail through his finger tips. "30 is hardly 'mid-life', Gar, unless you plan on making me a widower at 57." Smiling as I leaned down to kiss him, he tangled his free hand in my hair, holding me there a second. "We don't have to dress up tonight, right?"
I didn't know why he was asking - he'd just watched me hunt around for a pair of jeans for the last five minutes. "If he wants us in this weather, he can have us in comfy clothes," I sighed. Defeated, I sat down next to him, sliding my hand onto his knee. "I don't want to go." The downpour outside wasn't making it anymore appealing; we were going to be soaked the moment we stepped out of our building.
He wrapped his arms around me, pressing another kiss against my cheek. "Me neither, but it's only for a little while." There was a pause before he spoke again, his voice softer now. "He's your friend, Garrett, what are you worried about?"
"I don't know, I'd just rather stay here. We'd better hurry up though, if we don't want to be late." Anymore sitting at home, and I was going to back out. We needed to stop at a liquor store to get something to drink anyway. Neither of us ever kept alcohol in the house anymore, seeming as we didn't really drink very much, and I sure as hell wasn't staying sober if Riley was drinking - I could already hear the teasing.
We decided to walk to the shop, and then catch a taxi to my friend's apartment on the assumption that neither of us would be in any state to drive home at the end of tonight. God bless umbrellas. Carlisle seemed to reconsider for a moment at the last minute, calculating the effects of not having immediate access to a way home. "Maybe I won't drink; I'll drive us home afterwards."
I shook my head; he was going to be too nervous all night if he didn't. "Don't worry about it, Carlisle, we can always walk for a little while if either of us needs to get out in a hurry." That was for my benefit too - I really didn't want to go.
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Alright."
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Riley hugged both of us upon opening the front door to our knock. He was quite obviously a few beers deep already, a little unsteady on his feet as he ushered us both inside. His girlfriend gave us a cautious smile, rolling her eyes in apology as he took us out onto the balcony, thankfully protected from the weather by an overhanging eve. I could imagine it to be quite pretty in the summer; someone had set troughs of pot plates along the perimeter of the deck, a couple of chairs at each end.
Carlisle reached for my hand as we sat opposite Riley, and I rubbed my thumb across his fingers, both of us trying to reassure each other. I reached into our bag, briefly having to break the contact between us in order to crack open our drinks, twisting the cap off of my boyfriends and handing it to him before opening my own. His hand found its way onto my leg in the absence of my fingers.
It was a little awkward at first, Riley focused on me and seeming to forget that I'd dragged Carlisle along too as he ranted about work. I drowned him out after a while, the alcohol making my legs heavy by the time I'd drained my first bottle. It stopped my heart from racing and my thoughts from spiraling for the time being. Our host was kind enough to not push food too much, rather just setting the snacks on the coffee table that divided the balcony.
"You know you're all that Garrett talks about at work, right?" Riley started, suddenly focusing all his attention on Carlisle. "He doesn't ever shut up about you."
Carlisle wasn't drunk enough for that conversation; he'd only had a quarter of a bottle at most, making me wonder if he was worried we might end up with a repeat trip to the hospital after what happened last time he drank too much. He just forced a smile, rolling his eyes as his face warmed a little.
"Shush, Ry," I grumbled. I could really do without a conversation about how clingy I was right now. Thankfully, Victoria handed him the bowl of chips to shut him up. It worked for a bit, until his fingers brushed the bottom of the dish and he was left without the distraction.
"Are you two engaged yet?" Apparently alcohol took away all of his social awareness, because the uncomfortable air the question caused went right over his head. He didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "Who's going to propose to who, anyway?"
"Riley," I groaned. As much as I would love to be married to the boy in my arms, it really didn't feel like the right time to be talking about any of this. Besides, Carlisle had never dropped the slightest hint that he might actually want that, other than the odd passing joke, and I wasn't convinced I was ready for that either, as much as I toyed with the idea sometimes.
"What?" he defended loudly, grinning at us. "You obviously love each other enough."
"You and Victoria aren't married, and you've been together longer," I pointed out. It was hard not to get defensive, but luckily he just laughed. She huffed, though, and I hoped I hadn't hit a sore point between them.
"Please, I'll be the one proposing to him," she muttered. "He doesn't have a romantic bone in his body." That was for Riley's benefit, as his laughing fit came to an end.
"I'm the king of romance," he announced, as if he'd just been crowned.
I decided to let them bicker it out. As loving as Riley was, she really had him on that point, and it got his attention off of us for the time being. Carlisle was playing with is phone went I glanced over at him, and I tightened my arm around his waist, kissing his neck. "How's Alistair?" I asked, taking a pretty confident shot in the dark at who he might be texting.
He sighed quietly, sending the message before setting the device in his lap. "Ignoring me. He's not speaking to Edward either, apparently." Looking down at the people on the streets below us, he fell quiet, resting his head on my shoulder.
I hadn't heard that name in a while, and it brought back the same stupid stab of jealousy that it used to. My dumb bain didn't seem to care that the other boy was straight and married, zeroing in on Carlisle's old crush on him instead. Even though we'd been together for over a year and he'd given me no reason to be jealous. Stupid. I took another sip of my beer to stop myself saying something I'd regret later, and followed his gaze. The people down there were obviously party-goers; the men with slicked back hair and the women in short skirts. Their dresses climbed rather high on their thighs as they walked, overdone makeup visible even from our vantage point as they tried to huddle under umbrellas. While we weren't talking, I tried to figure out whether I was still attracted to that, or whether the flush of warmth in my body came from the alcohol.
"Where'd you think they're going?" Carlisle asked softly, his arm coming to rest in my lap. The people watching was obviously a distraction, but not one I could blame him for. Anything to pass the time.
Shaking any thoughts about those girls out of my head, I wrapped my hand around his, clamping my beer bottle between my knees and using my free one to tilt his chin up. I kissed him firmly, ignoring his confusion as I turned back to the street. "To a club, probably," I pointed out the obvious. "Or perhaps to work."
He laughed quietly, trying to stifle his giggles as Riley glanced at us. "So, still to a club then, just maybe to one with less clothes?" he teased. "It's a bit early for strippers, don't you think?"
I pushed his leg lightly, almost making him spill his drink. "You've obviously never been to a strip club."
"Why would I?" he countered.
I rolled my eyes and looked back at the street. "What about that guy over there, what's he doing?" I asked, pointing out the man smoking a cigarette under the eve of another building.
"Well, judging by your assumption before, he must be their pimp." He was baiting me, barely able to get the words out between laughter.
"I never said they were prostitutes," I chuckled. "I'm sure they're respectable young ladies. Besides, I think that guy is just out there hiding from his wife. Or maybe his in-laws. Either seems like a good enough excuse to stand in the rain."
I knew by the grin on his face that we were in trouble when Riley overheard us and turned to my boyfriend. "So, are you only into guys?" His smile grew as Carlisle fidgeted, and I narrowed my eyes at him.
"Ah, I'm gay, Riley," he reminded him politely. This whole visit must have been like pulling teeth for him, but he was doing well.
"Yeah, but you're not even a little attracted to women?" Frowning, he turned to me, his brow furrowing. "You are, right, Gar?" We'd had that conversation before, unfortunately, and I knew he was just teasing the two of us.
"You've had too much to drink," I accused, starting to laugh at his confusion. "Just shut up before you embarrass yourself." He was getting close to embarrassing me, and I wasn't at all prepared for that tonight.
"No really; I'm curious. You don't think she's hot?" He gestured to one of the girls who was on the street, ignoring his girlfriend's sharp reprimand.
Carlisle leaned closer to me, obviously uncomfortable. He barely peaked at the woman Riley was talking about, quickly averting his gaze back to the pot plants at our feet as his face warmed. "...She's pretty, I guess?" he said awkwardly. His fingers crept under the back of my t-shirt.
Riley was giggling, ignoring Victoria's elbow in his ribs. "Really not your type, then?"
"She's the wrong gender, Riley, so I guess, no. She's not my type at all." He managed a small smile, laughing a little when Riley chuckled. I snuck my hand onto his leg, trying to reassure him as he squirmed. His discomfort and inability to keep his face from flushing sent Riley off into a fit of laughter a few seconds later; he was way, way too drunk for this. Carlisle wrapped his arms around my neck, turning away from him a little to avoid the topic.
Well, at least I didn't have to worry about him leaving me for a woman. I rubbed his shoulder, feeling him relax as my coworker's attention diverted back to his girlfriend. We might not have been there long, but I was more than ready to go home. I just had to hope that Riley got tired from his drinks fairly soon. It looked like it, quite honestly, resting his head on Victoria's shoulder and trying to talk himself out of the trouble he'd just gotten himself in. I barely controlled a chuckle at their low murmuring, relishing the warmth of having Carlisle's body against mine; as long as I had him, I decided that I really didn't care about any overly attractive female.
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It was far too long before we got to go home, and I'd had far too much to drink. Carlisle was a little tipsy too, and I knew we were being too loud as we said goodbye and headed down the hallway. He kissed me as soon as the elevator door closed behind us, pushing me up against the wall, his fingers brushing against my jaw. My shoes slid on the linoleum floor and I slipped a little, causing him to fall against me and setting me off giggling. The laughter was hard to control as the alcohol coursed through my body. "Do you want to get dessert?" I asked, forcing myself to calm down before I fell. We'd already decided to walk for a bit, seeming as the rain had eased and we had both admitted we were hungry.
He nodded, kissing my throat before he stepped back so I could regain my balance. "If we can find somewhere open, sure."
"It's okay if I have to take mine home, though?" Alcohol didn't kill my nerves apparently. My hand found his and I linked our fingers together, pulling him toward the exit as soon as the elevator door binged open. The thought of my parents tomorrow night was already looming over me, no matter how hard I tried to push it away; it was making me more sensitive than usual. I was sure I was going to be a nightmare for Carlisle to deal with by tomorrow.
"You know you don't have to ask that, Gar," he reminded me softly. "I know you're not looking forward to tomorrow; just do whatever makes you comfortable." His fingers tightened around mine, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand.
"I love you." My feet came to a stop on the footpath as I leaned down to kiss his cheek. The lights of a fast food stall washed over the street, the sign writing on the side of building swirling together as I squinted to read it. It slowly came into focus as I hugged him. Pictures of cookies and cake and pancakes covered in syrup decorated the sign, and all of it sounded good to me.
We ended up with a brownie each, the warmth and sugary coating more than welcome. I nibbled on mine as we walked toward home, keeping my free arm around Carlisle to try and maintain my sanity. The cake helped to soak up the alcohol in my stomach, but it didn't help to ease my anxiety about tomorrow.