He tries to call Austin twice. The first time is late at night, almost morning, when Katie drops him off at his place. He waves the others away with fake cheer, already dialing the number on his phone. Austin doesn’t pick up. He goes upstairs, debating whether or not to try again, and decides Austin is probably dealing with whatever roommate problem he’s having. He doesn’t want to be overbearing or annoying; especially not after they made progress. He holds back, thinking he can try again later if Austin doesn’t message him first.
Leo calls again Sunday afternoon, trying to figure out whether he made it home or not. He doesn’t see a reason to be worried; Austin is ruthlessly practical and hadn’t even been drunk when he’d left. Still, he worries. He knows anything can happen. The other end of the line rings emptily, echoing in his ear while he waits. No answer. He doesn’t leave a message, trying to puzzle out the reasoning first. He runs through scenarios—Austin losing his phone, Austin being in a place with bad service, Austin being sick or hungover. Anything could have happened. You’re panicking for no reason.
He doesn’t call Austin again after the second try. He tries texting in the evening, a simple, u make it home?, but that goes unanswered as well. Leo tries to tell himself he’s being paranoid, and Austin probably doesn’t want to talk anyway. He’s moving too fast, he thinks. There’s no reason for Austin to be concerned with Leo’s questioning. He might even be annoyed, dealing with roommate problems and his other friends. Leo can almost imagine him swiping away the notifications, busy answering someone else about his activities and whereabouts. I don’t wanna be that guy. I have to let it go.
He backs off and waits for Monday, knowing he can catch Austin in the project room to see if he’s okay. Otherwise, he can always find out from the others why he’s not answering. As discreetly as possible, of course—he’s not going to broadcast his distress to the entire office. We don’t need our mess to be public knowledge.
Monday morning, he steps onto the bus and tries to drown out his thoughts. He tells himself his worry is natural—remnants of old feelings, along with his natural propensity to care. He’s always been too invested in others, wanting to help at every slightest turn. This obsession with whether Austin made it home is just him being nice. That’s it. He repeats those words over and over, telling himself to stop thinking so much. He’s fine. Probably annoyed by you, too, at this point.
“You’re here early,” Katie says as they run into each other in the parking lot. Her hair is down, shining a few hues in the morning sun. You can tell the time of day by whether or not she’s given up and twisted her hair with a pen, he thinks.
“A bit.” He struggles for words, trying to come up with some way to ask. How do I do it without sounding like a psycho or stalker? “You know, my roommate’s sick. It hasn’t been fun for him. I heard—I mean, his friend came over and mentioned there’s something going around. Has anyone at work called in? Should I be carrying hand sanitizer?”
Smooth, he tells himself. Like a freaking semi. His attempts at humor fall short in his ears, dangling uselessly from his words. There’s no way anyone could characterize his question as normal. Luckily for him, Katie doesn’t seem to be a morning person, and she doesn’t seem thrown off by the random question. Her expression doesn’t change, neutral and tired. She tugs the back door open for them, balancing a Starbucks cup on top of her stack of folders and books.
“Not that I know of. It’s early, though,” she adds, sounding displeased by the fact, “so maybe in a few hours.”
He nods even though she’s not looking, busying himself by making coffee in the lounge as she sets up at her desk. Dean gets in a few minutes later, the only person Leo’s ever seen looking fully functional and human in the mornings. Guess that’s why he’s the boss.
Leo stays in the lounge, the back door in clear view from the doorway. He pretends to be leaning on one of the counters, keeping an eye on everyone that comes in. This feels dumb, he thinks, but he doesn’t stop. He’s just a sucker for worrying and nothing will put him at ease until he knows that Austin is all right. Lina greets him a few minutes into his watch, waving tiredly.
“Hey. You’re here early.”
“I didn’t sleep well,” Leo smiles, watching her walk down the hall. He looks back to the door, antsy.
You need to stop. The logical part of his brain is going haywire. He has no real reason to be waiting. No indication that Austin is in trouble. All he’s doing is letting his imagination run rampant.
Those facts do nothing to assuage his anxiety.
“Why are you waiting around?” Rowan asks when he gets in, grumpier than usual. Which is saying something. Leo has noticed that the man isn’t quite personable. A good friend, maybe; just not polite all of the time.
“I’m not—”
“You’re waiting for Austin,” Rowan says, almost to himself. He looks mildly disgusted but not in a bad way. More like...an annoyed older brother. Leo almost smiles at that thought. He thinks Rowan would probably hit him in the head if he said it.
“I’m not waiting for—”
“Save it,” Rowan calls from further down the hall.
Whatever. He waits, noticing his knee is jumping, and he stops it as he watches. He can feel his heart rate pick up. Options flood his mind, each one a little worse than the next. So maybe he’s being a little crazy. Calm down, crazy. He knows it’s unreasonable to act so worried but he can’t help it. He knows Austin can be standoffish and it can get him into trouble. Besides which, Austin was at least a little drunk when he took off on his own past midnight.
Someone grabbed him on his way home, he thinks. Some stranger on the streets, thinking Austin was drunker than he was or maybe rich. Or it was the driver. There are all sorts of horror stories about those services, he thinks. Plus, Austin is stubborn. If something happened to him, he’d probably just open his mouth and land himself in even worse trouble. Leo’s seen the man dig his own grave several times, even after realizing what he was doing. Austin is the type to not care about whose toes he steps on until it’s too late. He may be professional, but that doesn’t mean he’s friendly. Or what if it was the roommate? What if they got into trouble? He starts to panic a little, wondering at what point he should put in a report to the police if Austin doesn’t show up. All of the shitty daytime crime television he’s watched in the past few years floats to the service of his mind, creating horrific scenarios. Dramatic things that probably aren’t the real answer. Still, he can’t fight the feeling something is wrong. He considers leaving to check the man’s apartment, thinking if he tells Dean the man will give him the address.
He’s in the middle of planning when Austin walks in the back, nearly passing before Leo notices him.
“Austin,” Leo says, startled and relieved. He almost says the man’s name too loud, dialing it back when he continues. “What—”
“Please don’t bother me while I’m working,” the man says shortly, eyes locked ahead of him. Leo laughs briefly, confused. His immense relief is overshadowed by the brusque response to his questioning.
“You’re not working; you’re walking,” Leo points out, trying to lighten the mood. It doesn’t work. He changes track, frustration mounting at Austin’s reluctance to talk to him. “Listen, Austin—I was just worried after you left Saturday night. You didn’t say goodbye, and Damian said you had to help a roommate. What happened? Did—”
“It’s none of your business,” Austin says shortly, nearing the project room door. Leo takes a chance, carefully pressing the man’s arm with his hand.
Austin looks up, making eye contact for the first time, and it’s unsettling. His expression is guarded, cold and angry. What the hell? Leo feels a spark of anger respond in his chest, burning with a piercing light. What did I do to deserve this? He’d thought they had made progress at the bar. Established a promise to communicate and move forward. The way Austin’s acting, it’s like they never talked things over.
“I’m asking as a friend—no, not even that, I’m asking as a decent human being,” Leo hisses, trying to keep his voice down. “Because I care. I was worried. You left in the middle of the night and didn’t answer me for an entire day. I didn’t know if you even made it home.”
“You don’t have to look out for me anymore,” Austin says sharply, glancing around the hallway as they stand there. His mouth is pressed into an angry line. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don’t need you to hold my hand.”
“First you hate me, then you say I can prove myself, now you say I shouldn’t concern myself with you? I wasn’t even asking to get more information about you, I was asking because it’s the right thing to do! Look—I’m not trying to force myself into your life. I’m just trying to show you I’m not the jerk you think I am.”
“You’re not my boyfriend, remember? Or maybe you don’t—I’m sure you were juggling so many of us at a time; it must’ve been hard to keep track,” Austin hisses, blue eyes sharp.
“What?”
Leo almost reels back at the accusation. It swims in his head, bringing back the voices of a dozen others. Playboy, no good, don’t go near him if you can help it. Everything echoes in his head, a miasma of hate and disgust brewing like a potion. He can feel eyes on his back like he did in college. Can almost imagine the rumors that would fly in the office. Words to paint him as a heartbreaker and careless man. Words to sneer at his flighty nature and list of exes.
He doesn’t even know how to respond to Austin. Even with the anger directed at him, part of his heart is still aching for redemption. Tell him what you want again, it says. Tell him he’s wrong. Leo doesn’t get a chance either way; the door to the project room swings open and Lina pops out, surprised when she bumps into them.
“Sorry,” she laughs, ducking between them to get to the lounge. “Continue!”
It breaks the tension but not the mood. Leo rubs the spot between his brows, trying to flatten out the perpetual wrinkle he feels like he’s living with. He’s suddenly exhausted.
Why am I even doing this? He’s clearly not worth it. He tries to tell himself it doesn’t matter. He tried proving to Austin he was sorry and a better person; he just clearly doesn’t care. It’s his loss, right? Except he can’t get over it. It itches like a spot on his back he can’t reach, persistent and aggravating. He’s not sure why Austin’s opinion means so much to him. It’s not like he can affect my career or life. So why does he hate being pushed away?
“Just—stay away, okay?” Austin stares at him, blue eyes guarded. There’s no remnant of the cheer Leo remembers from their time together. All that’s left is hesitation and anger.
“Fine,” Leo says, trying to ignore the burning in his throat. He steps around Austin, slipping into the project room to distract himself with conversation.
He doesn’t look at Austin, ignoring him when he walks in and skating his eyes over the wall any time he happens to face in his general direction. He almost feels like going home to avoid the man, giving them both space to figure out how to ignore each other without feeling like things are falling apart.
He has respect for people’s personal space. He has respect for others’ requests. He’s not about to pursue something when the other involved party is disinterested. Just get over it, he tells himself. It’s not worth your time. He repeats it like a mantra, going about his day and distracting himself with his script in his spare time.
“Want to go to lunch with us? We’re getting Chinese,” Lina asks, hours later, when he’s feeling the burden of being in the room with Austin lie heavily on his shoulders.
“No, thanks,” he smiles, letting some of his exhaustion seep through. “I’m not hungry.”
“Okay. Well, just tell me if you want me to pick something up,” she says, sounding a little worried. He thanks her and she goes on her way with Austin and a few others.
He breathes an audible sigh of relief when Austin leaves the building, tilting his head back as he slumps in his chair. It’s as if something toxic and dangerous has been removed, leaving only clear air.
He hates to think of Austin as poisonous, but the climate between them is bad enough to get the weather service involved.
“You’re so dramatic,” Rowan mutters. Leo almost jumps out of his seat before shooting the man a miffed look, wondering how he didn’t notice him before.
“Well, I’m an actor.”
“Greek? I’m hungry and you’re sulking. Food will make you both more pleasant to be around.”
Somehow, Leo doubts that food will make Austin less icy. Still, maybe chow mein will work its magic on him. He sighs, leaving his seat and straightening his shirt.
“Why not? You’re driving.”
“Yeah. You’re never driving my car. Ever.”
***
WHEN HE GETS BACK TO the office with Rowan, the others are already back. Leo hesitates, considering.
If I come back in with Rowan, it’ll look bad, he thinks. Extremely bad. He’s pretty sure there’s nothing that could piss Austin off more, other than maybe having lunch with Dean.
Rowan notices his hesitation and sighs, pulling himself out of the car. He beckons Leo, something in his expression communicating that he has a plan. Leo follows the man into the office, dubious. He chews on the straw in his drink, wondering how bad it will be.
They reach the project room and open the door. Austin seems to cast a sideways glance their way, his gaze hardening almost immediately.
“Yeah, you’re not my type,” Rowan says, as if they were having a conversation. Leo almost chokes on his straw. Lina laughs loudly before covering her mouth, hunching down in her chair as she contains the noise.
“I wasn’t—” Leo starts quickly, feeling his ears get hot.
“I know. It’s just a conversation I usually need to have,” Rowan says, straight-faced, “since some people think that when I tell them, ‘you have pretty eyes,’ it means ‘I’d like to—’”
“Thank you, Rowan,” Dean says, low voice amused as he leans into the doorway. Thank the stars, Leo thinks, feeling his red face subside a little. “Good to see you’re all hard at work.”
“Yes, sir,” Lina manages, still gasping for air through her tears of laughter.
“Remember, pair assignments go into effect next week. Check your email for an updated slot list if you forget.”
“Got it,” Rowan says, saluting from his chair.
He’s a good friend, Leo thinks, even if the man is a little closed off and sarcastic. He looks back at Austin, wondering if it worked. Austin doesn’t look as tense as before but he’s still avoiding the other side of the room, turned completely towards his computer. Leo sighs through his nose, telling himself there’s no point in trying to make things better. He has to stop worrying about Austin.
He can’t do anything to change the other man’s mind. He has to let go, no matter how much he wants to make things right. Forget about him, he tells himself. Making amends isn’t worth his time anymore.