Chapter Two
Liam hung his coat on the back of the little wooden chair at the small wooden table that Jason led him to. He tried to protest that he wouldn't be staying, that he had to get back to work, but Jason refused to listen.
“Nonsense,” he interrupted dismissively, “of course you're staying.”
“But—” Liam tried, but Jason waved him away with a stern look.
“Have you been eating properly, Mr. Liam Riley?” he asked, fixing him with a stare.
He laughed when Liam tried to stutter a lie, and pressed his palm to Liam’s stomach.
“Getting far too thin there, Liam,” he mock-scolded. “You need to sit down and eat a cake. You never could hide anything from me.”
The warmth of his hand seeped through Liam’s shirt to his skin and somehow briefly disconnected his brain, so when Jason walked away to the counter, Liam trailed after him like a puppy.
Now he stood looming over Jason’s shoulder while he chattered away to the young man behind the counter.
“....so now he just comes into the shop! Honestly, Marcus, I swear he barely recognized me at first!”
Jason looked up at Liam with a crooked smile, showing he was only teasing and inviting Liam to join in.
But Liam was still thinking about the press of Jason’s warm hand against his body, and so he blurted out, “I’d recognize you anywhere.”
There was a beat where Jason’s forehead wrinkled in confusion, and the young man behind the counter glared at Liam.
But then Jason’s expression cleared, and he laughed again.
“I should also tell you, Marcus,” he said, addressing the young man behind the counter again, “that Liam will tell horrendous lies to get himself out of trouble.”
“Actually, that's what I do for a living now,” Liam said, smiling as he found the rhythm of their banter again.
“Oh?” asked Jason, mirth sparkling in his eyes. “What’s that then?”
“Advertising,” Liam said, and Jason laughed so hard he had to clutch Liam’s arm for support.
For reasons Liam didn't quite understand, he found himself shooting a victorious look at Marcus. The young man behind the counter glared at him, then asked, “So, what will you be having?”
“Mocha with double espresso,” Liam responded, not bothering to be polite.
Jason gave his arm a gentle squeeze and let go.
“And he’ll have one of the vegetable burritos and a slice of the chocolate cake,” Jason instructed.
Liam smiled and rolled his eyes. “He thinks I don't eat enough,” he told Marcus. He sounded smug to his own ears, but he didn't quite know why.
Marcus flashed him a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, and scuttled off to prepare Liam’s lunch. Jason shot Liam an apologetic look from under his eyelashes, which were, Liam mused briefly, really unbelievably long.
“Sorry about him,” Jason said in an undertone. “If I'm honest, I think he has a little bit of a crush on me. He gets all weird when he thinks other men are hitting on me. Sorry.”
“Oh,” said Liam, feeling slightly dazed. “So, you're, um…”
“Gay?” Jason cut in sharply, suddenly looking colder than Liam had ever seen him. It was the wrong reaction, but something about that intense stare made Liam’s throat dry.
“Yes, I’m gay,” Jason continued, in a voice like flint. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“No,” Liam swallowed, and willed himself not to blush. “God, no, not at all. You're one of my oldest friends, Jace, I would never—”
“Hey,” Jason said warmly, taking pity on him. “Don't look so worried, okay? I don't mean to be so defensive, it's just…you never know with people, you know?”
The vulnerability in Jason’s voice made Liam want to hit something. Hard. Jason was one of the happiest, most easy-going people he knew, and he should never had been made to feel hurt because of other people’s ignorance.
“Has somebody said something?” Liam asked, feeling anger in his throat like fire.
Jason laughed, and placed a calming hand on his arm. “Easy there, tiger,” he smiled. “I'm fine.”
Liam met his eyes and relaxed. Jason's warm, dark eyes felt like home. But that didn't make any sense. Jason was his oldest friend, sure, but Liam hadn't seen him in over a decade, and Liam was pretty sure he himself was straight–wasn't he? No, he was straight. He'd been through this with himself. He had to be straight. There wasn't any other option. His mother had made that abundantly clear.
“All right,” Jason was saying. “I have to get back to work I'm afraid. But I'll come and see you before you go, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Liam said, still lost in his thoughts as he was steered gently toward his little table. “See you then.”
Jason clapped him on the shoulder in a brotherly way as he sat down. Liam was so busy thinking that he barely registered it. He was remembering the day that Jason left, the day he moved away to Wisconsin. He was remembering them sitting in the attic, the burn of tears in his throat, and Jason anxiously playing with the hem of his own shirt, the way he always did. Remembering Jason's rough palms on his cheeks, telling him not to cry. Jason’s chapped lips on his, just for a moment. The way that moment seemed to stretch forever and burned itself onto his memory. He'd spent years trying to forget that kiss, but he’d never quite succeeded. His first kiss, and one of the most precious moments in his life, but he'd forced himself to repress it. Looking at Jason now, he couldn't remember why that seemed to be the right thing to do.
His vegetable burrito was delicious, of course, because Jason had never done anything half-way. The cake, delivered a little while afterwards by an exceptionally irritable Marcus, was perfectly moist and spongy. But the real treat was the coffee. It came in a disposable cup—clearly Jason’s compromise for the sit-down lunch—with Jason’s number scrawled on the side in black marker. When Liam opened it, aromatic steam poured out and when he inhaled, it was probably the best coffee he had ever smelled in his life.
Liam glanced around shiftily, swallowing his guilt. The memory of the innocent kiss he and Jason had shared at the age of thirteen still burned hot in his mind. He'd forgotten it, repressed it, for years. And he was angry about that. Because he could have kept in contact with Jason, couldn't he? He could have explored this side of himself earlier, and maybe not have suffered through several car-wreck relationships that inevitably ended because he wasn't ‘genuine’ enough. And he was embarrassed as well, embarrassed that Jason probably didn't remember and didn't want to remember.
So, like a coward, he fled the coffee shop. As the little bell rang and the door shut behind him, he could have sworn he felt Marcus’ smug eyes boring into his back.