Somehow, Sunday comes around and Leo still hasn’t left. It seems like some strange sort of twilight world; they’re together, nothing seems to be going wrong, and Austin doesn’t even think about work on Monday. All they do is lie around the apartment, throwing chips at each other while they watch horror movie reruns. He barely even considers starting anything again—not that he isn’t attracted to Leo; more than once, they end up making out and ignoring the fish monster on television for a blissfully unmeasured amount of time. He keeps telling himself that they’re leading up to something, which is why he hasn’t sent Leo home yet, but it’s the furthest thing from the truth.
It’s not until Leo is making a late lunch—stir fry, he says, dismayed at Austin’s lack of cohesive ingredients—that Austin starts to realize what’s happening. He feels angry at first. After all, this is exactly what he was trying to avoid. With attachment comes strings and with strings comes the inevitable tangle, someone tripping or choking in the process until they cut them all to free themselves.
“I have to make a quick call,” Austin says, rising from the couch. Leo looks puzzled but he nods, leaning away from the stove just long enough to wave at him with a set of tongs.
He steps out onto the balcony, grateful he has one, and puts his phone to his ear. It feels stupid but it’s one of his old tricks—something he does to avoid conversations he doesn’t want to have and people he can’t stand to talk to. Unfortunately, both apply right now.
“What am I doing?” he asks the air, sighing. Being an idiot, that’s what. It’s amazing how quickly he fell back into things, past experience dissolving in the face of present joy.
Maybe he does want something more. If that’s true, though, he isn’t sure he should look for it with Leo. After all, the man isn’t making any attempts to right the unbalanced relationship they have; for all Austin knows, this is just what he wants. Just him getting his way again, slowly but surely. The thought makes him defensive—have I just been missing all the clues? Has he been pushing me along?
He spins on his heel, walking back into the apartment, already thinking of how he’s going to break things off neatly. I’ve been having fun, but I think you’re looking for something I won’t give. Or maybe even something kinder—people at work are noticing, and I don’t want any issues.
Leo turns, smiling crookedly, a gold strand of hair sticking out from his bedhead, and Austin loses steam almost immediately. He feels like an ass; there’s no way the man did anything intentionally or maliciously. Not when he looks so happy making lunch. There’s no promise of anything for him and yet he’s still here, cooking, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I need to reevaluate.
“I hope you like spice. I do,” Leo says, shifting the pan with a practiced hand. “Plus, you don’t have salt. What kind of adult are you? That’s basic.”
“I’m not good at being an adult. Or a human, even,” Austin mutters, busying himself with the plates and silverware. I can’t even figure out how I feel when it comes to you, much less the spices I should keep in my cabinets.
He tries to avoid thinking about his problem the entire meal, occupying himself with chasing peas around his plate. Leo keeps a comfortable level of conversation up, sometimes talking about useless things in an effort to help fill the space. It’s a valiant effort—one Austin loves him for—but it doesn’t do much to help. He seems to notice.
“Okay. Spit it out,” Leo says when they finish, beckoning with one hand.
“What?” Austin asks, trying to make it sound casual. It comes out half-defensive instead, and he winces, retreating to his near-empty glass of water.
“You look like you’ve been biting steel for the past hour. I know my cooking isn’t that bad. Or bad at all, honestly, but that’s not the point.”
“You seem to think a lot of yourself,” Austin says drily, rising to pick up the dirty dishes. He regrets it almost immediately.
Why am I being a jerk? He knows there’s no need to make this ugly. They’re both adults, and they both knew the bounds of this...relationship...when they got into it. If Austin feels like things have shifted too much, he’s perfectly entitled to reevaluate the entire thing. I don’t need to make excuses.
Nothing Leo has said or done has indicated that he would be angry or defensive. Even reluctant. Austin has every reason to feel safe with making a request, backing away for a while—so why does he feel so reluctant? He can’t bring himself to say it. Say I just want a break. I need to think.
“Austin,” Leo coaxes, not upset in the least. “Tell me. You know I’ll listen. I’m in your apartment, remember?”
There he goes again. Shifting the responsibility and power to Austin, giving up what little agency he has in their arrangement to make the other man feel comfortable. Austin can’t decide if it’s genuine or not; if it is, he knows it’s a rare thing to find in another person. Not many people will tolerate a partner with chronic trust and control issues.
Is he really tolerating me, though? Or is he just pretending for the sake of sex?
It’s stupid, he knows, to assume everything is something Leo’s doing for gain. He knows how hard it is to deal with his insecurities—hell, he gets sick of himself sometimes. He wouldn’t expect anyone else to stick around him unless they were interested or a masochist, and Leo doesn’t seem like the second type. He has to care. He has to.
“I think I’ve been spending a little too much time with you, recently,” Austin volunteers slowly, trying to think of a way to lessen the sting. “I’m just a little tired, what with the project and...um...our late nights.”
“Oh. Why didn’t you just say so?” Leo laughs a little, clearly relieved. He brushes hair back from Austin’s face like an afterthought, hand radiating heat against his skin. Austin has to fight the desire to lean into the touch.
Maybe I’m just attention-starved. He wonders if, after the initial chemical high of their new relationship wears off, he’ll be smarter. Maybe a break is what he needs to realize he’s better off alone or with a long-term partner. There’s no telling. He can’t speculate on it now; he just needs the time apart and the clarity it will offer. Even if they have a casual relationship, they’ve been moving too fast. Non-stop. It was a bad idea for him, and he knows he should have stopped himself sooner. Why did I have to be so self-destructive? I told myself I’d be careful.
“Well, I did. Sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”
“No. It’s fine,” Leo assures him, piling the dishes into the washer. “We’ve been going a hundred miles per hour for a few weeks, now. It’ll get better once the project is over and we have time to breathe.”
“Yeah. You’re right.”
“Well, get to bed early,” Leo says, already hunting for the few items he brought with him, “and don’t forget breakfast tomorrow. I don’t want you falling into zombie mode, again.”
“I’ll be fine,” Austin says, pretending to complain. “Why don’t you go be a mom in your own apartment?”
Leo laughs, pulling his jacket on. Before Austin can react, the man leans in, a brief kiss pressed to his lips. His instinct is to lean in and he does, feeling frustrated with himself when Leo’s hand curls at the edge of his jaw. It’s not exactly taking a break if they part like an old married couple.
He wants to hate himself for being so weak. For allowing himself to get pulled in again. This wasn’t what I meant, he thinks. He never meant to get back into a relationship with Leo. He’d only meant to have some stability, for a little while, so he could...
What? Figure out you don’t like him and run off into the sunset with a magical new partner?
“I’ll see you at work,” Leo says cheerfully, slipping out the door.
“Yeah,” Austin says, feeling a little more miserable than he has a right to. “See you at work.”
When he shuts the door, he leans against it, groaning at the ceiling. So much for simple.
***
HE ENDS UP GOING TO an art store to soothe his troubled soul. He misses having a sketchbook, even though he doesn’t particularly need one. He works digitally, which is usually simpler and more versatile. Still, he misses the feeling of paper beneath his fingers and a pencil in his hand. He’s also pretty sure that if he uses his computer too much, his eyesight will get worse—and he’s not really interested in having to worry about wearing glasses.
The store is quiet, nestled between a bookstore and a moving company. He immediately feels a wave of nostalgia walking in, remembering his days as a college student and not being able to afford the lower shelves of sketchbooks with leather covers and heavy paper. He smiles, remembering a friend buying him a pen he’d stared at longingly while walking around together. It’s good to be back here, he thinks. Standing in the same place with more buying power makes him realize how far he’s come.
“A wild Austin appears,” a voice says from behind him, pleased.
“How do we keep managing to run into each other? This is a pretty big city,” Austin says, smiling as Alan walks over. The man’s arms are burdened with items—sketchbooks, rolls of custom-cut paper, pots of paint, and packages of pencils. He even has a basket on his arm, filled to the brim with a bewildering amount of supplies.
“This is pretty much the art district,” Alan reminds him. “Which means technically, you’re running into me.”
“Animation is art,” Austin says mildly, turning away to look at a stack of cream-toned sketchbooks. “You going on a shopping spree?”
“Restocking. Planning for a gallery,” Alan smiles, shifting some of his haul into the burdened basket. He joins Austin in looking at the books. “How’s your arrangement been?”
Austin swallows. I was perfectly justified in asking for a break, so why do I feel so guilty about it? Alan lets him work out his answer, though, leaning down to pull a book from the bottom shelf.
“Um...we’re taking a break at the moment.”
“Really? Why? Did he do something wrong?”
“No! No, I...um...I felt like things were getting a little too familiar.”
“You realize you’ve both known each other for a while, right?” Alan asks, looking genuinely concerned for him. Austin rolls his eyes, grabbing a book at random to occupy his attention. He thumbs through a few pages, trying to figure out what he wants to say.
“I mean that we were meeting up without...a plan, I guess. It wasn’t like it was the first time, which was basically ‘hey, wanna have sex tonight.’ He was making stir fry,” Austin says, as if it explains everything. It does to me.
Alan presses his mouth into a line, considering Austin with a sharp gaze. He hums in displeasure, unloading the few items in his arms onto a chest-high shelf. He pulls out his phone, typing quickly. Austin frowns.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you perspective. You may not listen to your future self, but I bet you’ll listen to past Leo.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Remember James? Boyfriend? God among men and soon-to-be published author?”
“I’m not sure that’s how you described him last time.”
“I think you should talk to him,” Alan says, ignoring the sarcasm. “You might figure out how to handle your situation a little better.”
“Wait—” Austin protests, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. I don’t want to talk to a stranger about my intimacy issues.
Still, the second James rounds the corner, he’s reluctantly impressed. He’s pretty much as handsome as Austin remembers. Refined, a grey suit with a deep blue shirt complimenting his rich skin. He looks like a charitable billionaire participating in a candid photo shoot.
“You picked up too much, didn’t you?” the man says fondly, completely ignoring Austin as he makes his way towards Alan.
Even secondhand, James’s gaze is powerful. Austin’s never seen it before but he immediately recognizes that James really only has eyes for Alan. Nothing else in the store is important to him; it’s all secondary to the man he’s looking at. Alan smiles, soft, shifting up on his toes to kiss the man briefly.
“James, this is Austin—you remember, my friend from school? We—”
“You were in the same club,” James finishes. It’s not interrupting when he says it; he slides the phrase in easily and there’s a gap Alan leaves for him, somehow perfect. “I remember. I ran into Leo the other day.”
“You did?”
“He was printing something. Seemed preoccupied. It’s good to see you,” he adds, blinking as if he’s mentally stumbling. It’s a very human moment that makes him less perfect, and Austin appreciates it.
“Austin’s dealing with Leo right now,” Alan explains. “I thought you could probably give him some perspective.”
“About what?” James asks, turning to Austin.
What, indeed. He doesn’t even know where to begin. Part of him doesn’t want to divulge all the dirty details; he just wants to know how to tell. How to tell if we can work. If Leo is genuinely interested.
“You were...friends, right?” Austin asks cautiously.
“Yes. For quite a while.”
“Did that make it harder?”
“I don’t think so. If anything, it made it easier. We already knew a lot about each other.”
“How did you...figure out your new relationship? I mean, how did you decide you could be in one and not just—I don’t know—do the whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing?”
He knows he’s red by the end of his fumbled question. God. I may as well have asked ‘why didn’t you just use him for sex.’ Thankfully, James is either really good at keeping a straight face or not moved by seemingly awkward interrogations.
“It wasn’t easy,” James says, glancing at Alan. “I was conflicted, at first. I didn’t know if I was just mixing up feelings of friendship with—um, sex.”
“How did you separate the two?”
“I didn’t,” James smiles, ducking his head a little as if he’s trying to hide a smile. “I just realized it didn’t matter. I loved him, which is what mattered. Accepting that helped me realize I was already coming to the same conclusion he had.”
Oh, Austin thinks, starting to piece things together. There’s a possibility Leo just changed—figured out that he wanted to be with Austin. He’d been happy enough after their first drunken escapade, right up until Austin had backed away.
“But how could you do that? If there was so much at stake?” he asks, trying to look for help. Anything to push him along. To his surprise, James points to Alan, smirking. Alan is red-faced and pouting.
“I mean...technically, I started it,” Alan says, shaking his head. He steals a look at James, grinning when he sees the smile on his partner’s face. “I was tired. Tired of waiting and hoping and worrying. I was never going to find out if I didn’t try, you know?”
“But you were best friends,” Austin says, trying to wrap his mind around the concept. “You could have lost everything. Your chance and your friendship, all in one go.”
“Yeah, or he could have said no and been fine staying friends. Or he could have said yes, and I might have realized I actually hated him. You know how many possible outcomes there are?”
“How many?”
“How should I know? A lot,” Alan says, waving a hand. “That’s not the point. The point is, if you’re willing to be strong and try, he’s probably going to be willing, too.”
“He’s definitely going to be willing,” James says shortly, raising an eyebrow. He looks at Austin, contemplating. “Giving someone a chance at redemption isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s probably the greatest indicator of strength there is.”
“Oh my god, he really is a writer,” Austin mutters, at the sky, listening as Alan’s laughter chimes in his ears. It’s not the conversation I expected, he thinks, but maybe it was the one I needed.
“Why are you talking to us, anyway?” James asks, sounding genuinely confused. “Shouldn’t you be talking to him?”
“Yeah. I will. Just as soon as I stop moping,” Austin sighs.
“You do that,” Alan smiles, gathering his supplies, “and call if you need anything. Good luck!”
Austin waves them off, wondering why the universe is so intent on him getting back together with Leo.
Still, the president could tell him to do it, and he’d probably sit on his hands for half a month. He can’t help it; everything in life, he’s done with the forethought and planning of a paranoid doomsday believer. He can’t afford to be spontaneous. He worries about money even when he has it, worries about proving himself when he knows he’s capable, and worries about his future even as he’s living in the present. He knows he needs to take a breath. Life is for the living and all that. Instead of spending all of his time thinking, he needs to let himself feel.
He’s just scared to do it. The last time I felt too much, I had a stupid argument about us not spending enough time together and drove my partner away. Not that he deserved to be cheated on—it’s just that he always wondered if it was kind of his fault. After all, he was the one to drag up a problem that didn’t exist. All because he didn’t want to lose something that was, to his knowledge, completely stable. Leo had been constantly at his side. The man had showed no interest in anyone else, even fleetingly, and he’d been completely comfortable with letting Austin lead the way in their relationship.
That’s the real truth about what haunts him. If he hadn’t suggested they weren’t on par with other couples, they might have gone along without a problem in their relationship. They might have been perfectly fine, perfectly happy—hell, they might have even stayed together past graduation.
So now what? He knows he only has two real choices. Either he decides to try again, this time for real, or he forgets about Leo entirely and gives the man up. There can’t be an in-between. His last compromise had just led him right back to this crossroads.
If he wants to stop the endless loop, he has to make a decision. Soon.