He wakes from a dream in inches, feeling sore but pleased. How much did I drink? He doesn’t feel too hungover, thankfully, and the curtains are drawn to block the sun. He can’t remember having shut them. He exhales through his nose, stretching as he lays on his dark sheets. He feels sticky with sweat and he frowns, staring at the thermostat across the room as if he can see the numbers on it.
His eyes land on a shirt in the corner. It’s piled in a deep-green lump by his bookcase, a jar of seashells lying on top of it. When did that fall? He wonders why it didn’t wake him up. The sound of the air conditioner shushes distantly, and he turns over in bed.
As he rubs his eyes, he becomes acutely aware that he doesn’t own a green shirt. He also realizes that it’s not the air conditioner he hears—it’s the steady rain of the shower. He tenses. Who did I bring home?
He quickly sits up in bed, tugging the sheets around his body, scanning the room for any signs of his visitor. Bits and pieces start flooding back—the group at the bar, Lina’s questions, Leo splitting a ride with him.
Leo. He almost falls back onto the bed when he remembers. He can feel his face heating up as he thinks about the night—the way he’d just given in, pulling the other man by his jacket and pushing them into bed. He realizes with horror that there are extra jeans on the floor, a pair of black underwear glaringly lying by the side of the bed.
“Oh, my God, I’m an idiot,” he breathes, horrified.
Just a few drinks and he’s done the one thing he told himself not to do. He feels like he’s become the stupid main character in a cautionary tale about exes and alcohol. He can just see the Dear Abby letter behind his eyes. “Dear Abby, I slept with the guy who cheated on me over four years ago because I thought I still loved him. We also happen to be coworkers. What do I do?”
The water shuts off and Austin panics, throwing himself back onto the bed and twisting, concentrating on breathing in and out. He tries to relax his body, arranging his body into the same position it was before.
Leo quietly walks out of the bathroom, feet padding across the floor. The man moves around the bed, presumably getting dressed, and Austin feels himself panicking. He doesn’t want to face his mistake; all he wants is for the other man to leave so that he can figure out how he’s going to handle this.
He almost flinches when a hand fondly smooths his curls. Leo’s hand is warm from the shower, brushing his forehead for a moment.
“I’ll be back,” the man murmurs, quiet, before pressing a fleeting kiss to Austin’s forehead. He leaves immediately after, the front door creaking shut behind him. As soon as the man is gone, Austin groans, one hand slapping onto his forehead.
“You’re such an idiot,” he tells himself, the words echoing in his empty apartment. He rises quickly, locking the front door, a headache starting to pound at his temples.
When he slips into the shower, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and has the distinct desire to smack his head against a wall. There are bruises already flowering on his chest, dark spots lining his neck and shoulders. He’s suddenly immensely glad for his button-ups, hoping they’ll hide most of the damage. I’ll have to wear my scarf in the office, at this rate. He runs the water hot, as if it can boil away the truth, certain his back is just as marked when the spray feels like bullets against his skin.
Why did I do that? He knows logically why he did. Leo is an ex; their past relationship had been mostly good, and Austin is clearly still physically attracted to the man. In his state last night, alcohol and exhaustion taking over, he was obviously more willing to do something he knew was not a good idea. His inhibitions about Leo’s possible motives had dissolved. They weren’t important to his short-term goal of satisfaction. And boy, was I satisfied, he thinks, covering his face with a hand as his cheeks heat up again. He can recall some of the things he said and did and none of them can be brushed away easily. He’s dug his own grave, this time.
There’s really only one thing he knows how to do. Unfortunately, his place had been the setting for their romp, so he can’t exactly run. All he can do is avoid Leo for the next day and a half, hoping that by the time Monday rolls around, he’ll have gotten the message.
He hates his past self for putting him in a position where he has to be a jerk, but he doesn’t have a choice. If he wants to protect himself, he can’t continue whatever it was he started the previous night. He can’t let his heart get tangled up in Leo again.
***
HE GETS THE FIRST CALL an hour after his shower; he’s in town, running a few simple errands that don’t require as much time as he’s dedicating to them. He pretends not to feel the buzz in his pocket, turned down to its lowest setting. I’m busy, he tells himself defensively, as if he has to justify his lack of action. I’ll call him later.
An hour and a half later, he’s in the middle of a car wash, and his phone buzzes. He stares at the screen in the passenger seat, doubt weighing heavy in his chest. Answer it, he tells himself. This is juvenile. He knows he’s acting like a coward—it’s only a call; he can say whatever he wants and there won’t be any real problems. He can always escape by hanging up.
Instead, he shoots a text response back, the single-word avoidance: driving. He holds the phone in his lap, waiting for a reply. Somehow, he simultaneously hopes for an answer and no answer. It would be nice not to feel conflicted every hour of every day, he thinks wistfully.
The answer he gets back is short and he doesn’t know what to think of it. Call before dinner. There’s no question to it, which seems bad, but it also gives him plenty more time to think. Or, in his case, to figure out how to avoid it altogether.
He’s just happy that Leo hadn’t waited outside his apartment the entire day. Once he gets home he tidies up, as if making the apartment clean will help him face the conversation he’s going to have. He would give anything to go back in time, stopping himself before he started the ill-advised affair.
Not that it hadn’t been good. It had been too good, really, even though he knows it’s just because Leo had known what to do. They’d been completely comfortable around one another in a way he can’t replicate with one-night stands. It’s a blessing and a curse; now, he remembers what a long-term relationship yields and he’s falling into a pit of hope and desire. All he wants is that stability again, the knowledge of being completely safe and cared for in the context of the situation.
But no matter how good Leo is to him in the bedroom, he can’t be sure the man will be just as supportive outside of it. He’s not sure he needs—or wants—that support. Come on, drunk me, he thinks, you could have picked anyone in that bar. Why him?
He ends up twiddling his thumbs by his phone, stress-eating a package of red cherry licorice. He neuroticlaly pulls the entwined rods apart, eating the strands one at a time as if he can pick apart and control his life the same way. One step at a time, each one a clean and perfect line.
He almost falls out of his chair when the phone buzzes, a loud intrusion as it vibrates on the table.
“...hello?”
“Austin. Where did you go?”
It’s not a demand. Leo almost sounds reluctant, as if he’s the one being pulled into the conversation. Wary.
“I had to go run a few errands. You were gone when I woke up,” he adds, cursing himself when he realizes how harsh it sounds.
“I tried calling you after I did. Didn’t want to wake you.”
“Oh. That’s fine.” He doesn’t need your permission, idiot, Austin tells himself, feeling his confidence rapidly deteriorate. He doesn’t know where to take the conversation.
“I just...wanted to make sure everything was all right, after last night. Um, maybe we could do dinner or something—”
“No,” Austin says quickly, panicking, and then his heart drops. No? Just no? He knows he owes the man more of an explanation. The line is silent. “I mean—okay, I’m sorry. This is my fault. I didn’t mean to start something like this, I just—”
“What were you trying to do, then?” Leo asks. He doesn’t sound angry—just quiet. Precise. As if he’s asking his boss for clarification on a project.
“I just...I don’t want to get choked by strings,” Austin says, fully aware that he’s avoiding the question.
What exactly can he say, anyway? I was trying to make sure that you were just as good as I remembered. Part of me hoped you weren’t, so I could actually move on. Nothing would sound good and none of it would be quite right.
“Strings. That’s what you’re worried about.”
“Listen, I don’t need judgment—”
“I’m not, Austin. Just—what have you—”
“The last two years of my life have been populated with one-night stands. Infrequent, sure, but they were one night.”
“And you’re happy with that?” Leo asks, an edge to his tone. “If there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you like consistency.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not looking for consistent disappointment, so,” Austin snaps, feeling his patience wear thin. He’s starting to think maybe he was wrong about this from the beginning. Maybe Leo isn’t worth the hassle anymore.
“Fine. Then we don’t date. You don’t expect me to go to church every Sunday, and I won’t expect you to help do laundry every Wednesday. Fair?”
“Then, what? We just...call each other to scratch the itch?” Austin asks, incredulous. He’s not an idiot; he knows that casual relationships are common. They can work. He just...can’t fathom being in one, with Leo.
“If you want. You told Lina you were looking for someone who knows what you want, right? You know that I do.”
He can’t argue that point. It’s exactly what he said and exactly what he wants. It sounds shitty in practice, though, which is why he had always been unwilling to share his thoughts. He doesn’t want to use someone; he wants a mutual understanding. One just like what Leo is suggesting. It could be perfect.
“...if I do this, we keep it strictly not business,” he manages, already thinking. “No office romance. We answer each other’s calls after hours. If we can’t meet up, we suggest another time or give a good explanation.”
“Right. Equals,” Leo says. “We both want the same thing. As long as we’re adults about it, there won’t be any problems.”
“Good. Okay,” Austin says, unsure of how to react. He has no idea how things ended up this simple.
“Okay. I’ll see you,” Leo says, hanging up, and Austin stares at his phone as it flashes the call log at him.
Is it really that easy? He sets the phone down, staring into his kitchen, and feels a little less stressed. It’s like everything has been squared away, ties cut, and a new contract forged. There are no illusions between them now. Leo knows what Austin wants, in no uncertain terms, and Austin gets the clear impression that Leo will take what he can get.
He goes to bed that night feeling distinctly accomplished and far less worried than he has in a long time. He wonders, as he drifts off, who will call first. Not me, he thinks, somehow tallying up meaningless scores in his head. It’s his turn to do the chasing.
***
HE’S GOING OUT TO GET groceries the next day when he runs into Lina. She’s sitting at a table outside at a coffee shop, looking well at home and completely comfortable.
“Austin!”
He smiles and walks over, despite his reservations about the previous night’s circumstances. He thinks maybe it’s time he was open with someone at work, and Lina’s been fairly supportive so far. Mischievous, sure, but she’d backed off once she noticed how displeased Austin was.
“You here alone?”
“Just me and my imaginary girlfriend,” Lina smiles, tipping her coffee at a chair next to her. “I didn’t get to text you. Did you get home all right?”
“Yeah. I’m alive, aren’t I?”
She studies him for a moment, clearly thinking. He pauses, deciding whether or not he wants to open his mouth and start the conversation. He really doesn’t know how. Thankfully, she takes initiative.
“I’m sorry if you’re not comfortable with Leo around. I mean, I got that you weren’t crazy about him, but I didn’t think it was that bad until you were practically vaulting chairs to get away.”
There’s humor in her tone but understanding, too. He feels a little more comfortable suddenly, thinking maybe she gets more than she lets on.
“Yeah...I just, like I said...he wasn’t the best in college. He—we were together, for a little while,” he says, pausing for a reaction. To her credit she simply leans forward on her elbows, listening, so he continues. “We’d been hanging out for months. He came into one of the clubs I was in, Future Startup Leaders.”
“I can’t see him leading a startup. Or anything else, for that matter,” Lina laughs.
“Yeah, no—he was terrible! He just...took notes and pretended to use words he didn’t understand, but he was so charming that we all forgave him. I think he really was trying. Eventually, though, we were getting coffee on campus and he just kind of...blurted out that he had joined to try to get to know me better.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not. I honestly think he was probably hungover or something,” Austin laughs. “He told me that and then said he was glad he joined, even if he was a terrible learner. It just...kind of went from there.”
“So you had your eye on him for a while, huh?” Lina asks, sympathetic.
Did I? Looking back, he can’t deny it. It’s not like Leo wasn’t handsome. It’s just...Austin had never thought of himself as the kind of person who’d ask someone else out. Or make the first move.
“Yeah. It was just—natural, somehow. We went through all the stages you’re supposed to; acquaintances, then friends...and then he told me that, and I immediately asked him out. I think I said ‘let’s get coffee sometime’ and he said ‘we are having coffee’ and it was terrible.”
Lina wrinkles her nose, giggling.
“That’s so...rom-com. What happened?”
“We were officially sleeping-over-and-having-sex dating for four weeks. It was so hard to make plans before that month; our dates were lunch in the cafeteria and Leo driving me home from clubs. When we finally started, though, we went strong. Then four weeks later we had an argument, and he ran off and cheated on me with someone he picked up at a bar.”
“God. What was the argument about? What made him snap?”
What was it about? Looking back now, he knows it was stupid.
Leo had been sneaking around for weeks. He’d slip away a little early from their get-togethers, always grinning and promising to make dinner, and Austin hadn’t been worried. He knew enough to know something good was happening; he just didn’t know what. Then, one day, he’d left a club early and saw Leo running around campus with a handful of balloons and he’d thought, he’s going to do something for me. Something just like all the little dates but bigger. More important. Austin had gone to his meeting that night with anticipation burning in his veins.
And then one of the other members proposed to his girlfriend, the room exploded in balloons, and Leo was holding one letter of the words marry me with half of his acting class. Austin knew he shouldn’t be angry or sad or frustrated; this was a friend and it was beautiful and amazing. But somehow all his little doubts had come flooding back—I’m expecting too much from him, we haven’t even been together that long, he probably doesn’t even care about me as much as I think he does. He said as much later that week, some small part of him knowing they were all the same things he’d said before. So when Leo had left, he’d fully expected him to come back after maybe a day of cooling off.
But he never came back.
“I don’t know. All I know is that Damian said Leo was drunk and ended up going home with him.”
“I can’t believe he’d do that,” Lina says, frowning, her eyes soft. “It sounds like you two were perfect. Why would he just...do something like that? Risk it?”
“I don’t know,” Austin sighs. I still don’t know. “It doesn’t matter, though. I don’t have any hard feelings about it anymore—I mean, I do, of course, but I’m not going to let that mistake control my life. It’s his loss, as far as I’m concerned. I can be okay with him as a person, just not...as more. Not a relationship. Never again.”
“I’m glad you told me,” Lina says quietly, tapping one of his hands where it rests on the table.
And it feels good. It feels immensely good, suddenly, to have this off his chest and the knowledge that he’s sure where he stands about Leo. Now that he’s had a casual night, his feelings are more mixed up than ever, but he’s got one thing certain. Lina’s ready to help him, he thinks, and now he can acknowledge all the crap he’s been through.
He’s one step closer to being over it, even if he still has a physical attraction to contend with. If Leo’s letting me set the tone, though, maybe it’ll be better. Maybe this time, he thinks, there will be less struggle and more sex—which is the only thing he needs.
***
HE HAS A DREAM ABOUT Leo that night, probably because he’s been thinking about him too much. It’s more of a memory than a dream, too bright and glowing around the edges to feel entirely real. He’s in his dorm, book in hand, mindlessly dragging a pen across paper.
“You look so enthused,” Leo says, smiling. He’s hanging upside down on the couch.
“Shouldn’t you be memorizing your lines?” Austin murmurs, trying not to smile. He fails.
“...you know what you need? I know what you need,” Leo says suddenly, jumping to his feet and grabbing his shoes. Austin watches him, one eyebrow raised.
“What are—”
“Come on. Come on,” Leo insists, grinning as he grabs his keys. He’s throwing something into his backpack as Austin gets ready, uncertain but excited. He’d be lying if he said he wanted to stay inside and try to power through his artist’s block.
Leo drives and Austin sits back, staring out the window as they go. He frowns, trying to puzzle out where it is Leo is taking him. He’s not sure he recognizes the route.
“I should be working on my art project,” Austin starts, shifting in his seat, and Leo waves him off.
“You have to take breaks, Austin. It’s not helpful to your health or what little sanity you have to work tirelessly. You need a break every now and then.”
They pull into a drive-thru, some fast food place Austin never has time to go to, and Leo orders. It’s simple, and Austin hadn’t even realized he was hungry until the bags are passed through Leo’s window, hot and full of french fries and burgers. His stomach growls, and he flushes, looking away. Leo laughs.
“You can eat. We’re not going back home.”
“Where are we going?” Austin asks, grabbing a fry from the bag.
“You’ll see,” Leo smirks.
They drive back to campus, taking some sort of back path towards a place Austin doesn’t recognize. It’s a little spot nestled between the football fields and the undeveloped parking lot, shaded by trees. He frowns for a second, about to ask, and then Leo hops out and waves him over. By the time Austin gets to him, he realizes what’s going on.
“You made me stop working for ducks?”
“Hey. You gotta make friends with them, just in case you run afoul of some geese,” Leo says with mock-seriousness.
Austin finally laughs. He gives in, knowing it’s a break he needed, and joins Leo in feeding the ducks french fries and bits of hamburger buns. He feels a lot better. Time doesn’t matter in their little spot, the world seeming to melt away and become less important. His internship doesn’t matter. His father’s warning doesn’t matter.
And even when he realizes he’s dreaming, he still wants to stay in that time and place, where nothing and no one could pull him away from life the way Leo did. Where he felt like maybe he was worth more than school or work or what job he was going to get out of college.