Author's Note:
This chapter is considerably shorter than the others, so sorry about the length. But the next (and final!) chapter should be much longer. I hope you enjoy!
- your city bird
The cab ride to Thom's apartment from the bar was more than a little bit tense. The pair sat on opposite ends of the leather bench seat, the air hanging between them heavily as they stared out their respective windows. Was there a certain script you were supposed to follow in a situation like this? Is there some cure-all concoction of words that would make this all easier? Unfortunately for them both, neither man knew.
As the cab pulled up to Thom's building, Thom glanced across the seat at Caleb. He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. Caleb's cheek was pressed against the cool window, causing the glass to fog and his mouth to hang open loosely as he let out a tiny snort of a snore (more like a sleep-hiccup actually) in his deep slumber. Thom's heart softened when he saw that face that had been so angry and hurt and full of resentment, now so peaceful and innocent.
Thom had forgotten how drunk Caleb had been at the bar. "Why he thought tonight was a good night to talk, I'll never know..." Thom mumbled as he tried to shake Caleb from his slumber. No use. All he got in return was a sleepy whine accompanied by a brief fluttering of his eyelids.
Thom nearly tumbled out of the elevator the doors slid open on his floor. Caleb hung limply from his arm, his feet barely grazing the ground as Thom dragged him down the hall. For such a short and slender guy, Caleb was a lot heavier than he looked. "I've gotta start working out more," Thom grumbled to himself as he pulled the zonked out Caleb toward his apartment.
He paused, taking a moment to unlock his door before scooping Caleb up in his arms, carrying his blushing bride over the threshold. Well, to be more specific, his blushing, wasted, and unconscious best friend who was madly in love with him but also completely pissed at him for acting like such a pig... But "blushing bride" just has more of a ring to it, doesn't it?
Thom brought Caleb into his bedroom, pushing back his fluffy white duvet and pulling off Caleb's shoes before laying him gently out on the cool sheets. Caleb's body quaked slightly from the cold and he let out a helpless whimper. Thom smiled sympathetically over his adorable little companion as he pulled the comforter over Caleb and tucked him in like his precious prize.
Thom just sat on the edge of the bed, watching Caleb as the turbulent expression on his face calmed. He slowly reached out a hand, cradling the side of that lovely face and brushing away the wild locks of white-blonde hair that spilled over his forehead and covered his eyes. "I'm sorry, Caleb," Thom whispered, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on Caleb's cheek. He rested his forehead against Caleb's, "I don't know if I can love you... But please, let me try..." He knew Caleb couldn't hear him, but he felt somewhat reassured as Caleb nuzzled his face into the touch of his hand.
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Caleb's mind stirred as he felt a gentle caress of his cheek and a slight pressure to his forehead. In his still-drunk and mostly-asleep state, Caleb sighed heavily, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.
That scent–that oh-so-familiar fragrance–surrounded him. Fabric softener sheets. Lemon. Faint salt like a sea breeze. Thom.
The words sailed into his ears, throwing a wrench into the machinery of his thoughts. "I don't know if I can love you... But please, let me try..."
The first part didn't matter. Not now. He wanted to try. He wanted to love him. This must be a dream. But right now, Caleb didn't care about that either. If this was a dream, God, it was a good one. Caleb turned his face into Thom's gentle touch, wanting to experience as much of this sensation as possible as he sighed once more and drifted back into the safety of sleep.
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The afternoon sun streamed through the window, searing through the eyelids of the unconscious Caleb and forcing him into the waking world. He stretched out his tightly curled limbs as he adjusted to the feeling of being alive. It was the first time in a few days that he'd had such a good rest. And no hangover.
Everything came flooding back to Caleb as his eyes snapped open like a mousetrap. This was Thom's bed. He had made it to Thom's apartment...
This was going to be a long day.
Caleb swung his legs off the bed from under the duvet and marched toward the door. When he opened the door to the living room, his heart broke at what he saw. Thom, sat back on the sofa made up with two large pillows, a bed sheet, and a quilt. He had taken the couch last night.
"Y'know, I would have been fine on the couch... You didn't have to."
Thom turned around to face the source of that quiet, lovely voice. His eyes lit up as they fell upon Caleb's face, but he made sure to restrain himself. They still had a lot to talk about; this was not the time to get all happy-go-lucky.
"Ahh, you're awake," Thom smiled, setting the book he was absorbed in on the coffee table, "You slept right through breakfast. I can make you lunch if you want. Or would you rather just have some coffee?"
"I'll just have a cup of coffee. But I can get it, don't worry. You just spent all night on your sofa. You've done enough," Caleb said as he walked toward the kitchen.
He yawned as he returned to the living room and plopped down on the couch beside Thom. He cradled his mug in his icy fingers, trying his hardest to coerce the warmth into his body as he sipped at the scalding black coffee.
