Unrequited

Author's Note:

Sorry about the wait for this fourth and final chapter of Unrequited! All the time working up to finals week proved to be a little too much for me and it took a toll on the pace of my writing here. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations if not the title of the series...

I must say once again that I love you all and please keep the criticisms/comments coming!

-your city bird

One year later...

Caleb's feet pounded against the concrete path as he jogged the loop around Prospect Park. Brilliant rays of sun punctured the canopy of trees, covering the ground in patches of warm, yellow light.

Lungs desperate for air and throat desperate for water, Caleb paused to take a breather. He leaned against the back of a park bench, his gaze stretching across the sun-dappled pond, when he saw a man standing by the water, skipping stones across its surface. As Caleb watched each tiny flat rock magically bounce across the pond, his legs began to feel heavier and heavier. Each stone made perfect little ripples of mesmerizing concentric circles with each pass across the water. Caleb suddenly felt like running again, but found himself completely incapable of movement. His legs were suddenly cemented in place as he became entranced by the water's surface.

Without a second's warning, Caleb felt a cool hand forcefully cover his lips, completely sealing off his breath. In the same way that he couldn't force his legs to move, the rest of his body remained still through the panic as Caleb felt his body being dragged away from the path from behind.

The hand left his mouth as he felt his body being spun around and his back slamming into what felt like knotted trunk of a massive tree.

Caleb's mouth hung open, his lips moving frantically and soundlessly in surprise as he tried to form words for the man who stood before him now. Countless cuts and bruises, fresh and sweating blood, nearly spoiled the complete pulchritude that was Thom's face. Caleb felt the sudden urge to caress that face, to hold Thom, to ease his pain, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't force his arms to move.

Thom simply stood before him, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Not yet," Thom whispered, laughing with his mouth full of blood.

Caleb's eyes widened as Thom raised his hand. Thom's open palm hovered beside his scarred countenance. Caleb watched as Thom slowly curled his fingers, one by one, until his open palm turned to a white-knuckled fist. Before he even had a moment to think, Caleb felt that fist collide with the side of his face. He could feel the bones in his face bend to the point of breaking, his teeth rattling in his skull as he learned the taste of his own blood.

Caleb looked to Thom, a pained expression staining his own newly bruised and bloody face. Thom smiled and took a step closer to Caleb, planting the hand, that had just done such violent damage, gently on the tree beside Caleb's head.

"Are we even?" Thom said, his words slipping huskily past Caleb's ears. Caleb watched helplessly as Thom licked a drop of blood from the corner of Caleb's mouth before forcing his tongue between his lips. Caleb felt his tongue respond, desperately twining with Thom's as the kiss became increasingly needy and passionate.

After a moment, Thom quickly pulled away. His eyes were shining with a steady flow of tears. But he was smiling, his mouth curling up in the corners, his crying eyes smiling too.

"It's time, Caleb."

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Caleb rolled out of bed and with a THUNK landed on the cold hardwood floor. He groggily wiped the cold sweat away from his face and neck and ruffled his messy white-blonde hair as he slowly pried his eyes open to the invasive and vivid light of the sun.

Though it was far from pleasant, Caleb wasn't startled by this rude awakening–he had woken up this way every day since he moved. Caleb figured a change of scenery would eventually stop the nightmares, but they had only gotten worse.

And tonight's was the worst of all. That dream was the most vivid. But why was it getting worse?

Because today was the day.

It had been exactly one year since he had run from Thom–since he had hurt the thing he loved the most.

Before Caleb could push himself to his clumsy feet, his bedroom door swung open, a wiry figure standing in the doorframe silhouetted by a flood of late morning sun.

"So, you're finally awake? I was about to come in and wake you up when I heard you make a damn mess of yourself!" Elliott laughed, stepping into the room and helping the shaking and sweating Caleb off the cold floor. "Today's your big day, right?"

Caleb groaned. Elliot need not remind him. How could he possibly forget.

"C'mon, let's get some food in you," Elliott smiled, a sort of melancholy weighing down the usual flush of happiness in his features.

As Caleb stiffly slid into his seat at the kitchen table, Elliott served him up a quickly reheated plate of scrambled eggs and french toast. "I assure you the food was much much better this morning, but I didn't want to wake you too early. That was the most sleep you've gotten since you've been here, Cay," Elliott said, plopping down across the table from his voracious and anxious-looking friend as he sipped heavily from his coffee cup.

When the crumbs stopped flying and Caleb showed signs of slowing down with his late breakfast, Elliott spoke up again, "So are you really gonna go through with this today?"

Caleb put down his fork and swallowed a bite of toast as his eyes widened in response. "Of course I am! I'm the one who set myself up for this, so I'm the one who has to follow through. It's not an option..." he said, with both disconsolation and conviction.

"I know you think it's not," Elliott said, his expression softening as he furrowed his eyebrows, "but it really might be better for you if you didn't go." Caleb opened his mouth, looking as if he was about to speak up in his defense, but Elliott continued on, "I know your nightmares have been getting worse, but I think they'll eventually stop. And if you go to see him and nothing comes of it, what then? Are you going to start talking and walking in your sleep? Night terrors? Ambien sleep-gambling?"

"And I know it's a terrible way to look at it, but really, think of your career! Your last series sold in less than a week! All those portraits with the same sad blue eyes... I know they're his. I know I'm going to sound like a dick thinking like this, but you've made more money being broken up about him than you ever have..."

Caleb stood up abruptly, slamming both hands down on the tabletop, shaking his silverware against the ceramic of his plate. He squeezed his eyes shut firmly and bit down painfully on his bottom lip. Without so much as a glance in Elliott's direction, Caleb turned on his heel and marched back toward his room. "I'll be getting dressed. I don't want to be late."

Elliott sighed as he leaned back into his chair, cradling his hot coffee cup, "That's what you get for trying to help, Elliott," he said, shaking his head.

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Caleb stripped quickly out of his pajamas and slid his black jeans up his legs. He grabbed a comfy, over-sized sweater off the floor of his room, sniffing it just to make sure it wasn't offensive.

After that day at Thom's, not only had Caleb changed his phone number and moved in with Elliott in Brooklyn, but his lifestyle had taken some huge blows as well. Once he had graduated, he rarely left the apartment at all, despite Elliott's endless petitioning, spending all his time holed up in his room, pouring himself onto his canvases. He was well aware of just how pathetic he was, and the thought of it only sent him deeper into his abyss. Gone were his neat-freak tendencies and zeal for oddball fashion. It was as if he had given up everything else that mattered when he gave up Thom.

He had no idea when he would stop feeling this way–so despondent and dispassionate. But he couldn't help but wonder if this meeting would do any good at all.

He proposed the idea, so he had to be there, for better or for worse. For Caleb, that was the bottom line.

"Time to bite the bullet," Caleb sighed, ruffling his hair once more before breezing past Elliott and out the front door.

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As Caleb's feet brought him closer and closer to the cafe, all the thoughts he had forced himself to suppress over the past year slowly worked their way back into his mind. He wondered what Thom looked like now. He had mentioned wanting to let his hair grow out a little bit. Did he have a boyfriend? Maybe even a girlfriend? Did he ever get that assistant professor job? Will he even remember?

In the maelstrom of unwanted thoughts and insecurities, the one word that he couldn't even bear the though of never once reared its ugly head: that four-letter word that got him in this situation in the first place. He didn't think of the "L" word once. He couldn't. He had given up on love. All he could do now is grovel and beg for a "like". For a "friend" or maybe just an "acquaintance." 'Hell, I'll be lucky if he even shows...' Caleb thought as he dragged his feet toward the cafe.

Caleb's organs turned into contortionist carnies, knotting and twisting themselves tighter as the cafe's sign loomed ever closer. As he arrived and wrapped his hand around the brushed silver handle of the glass door, he froze. This could be potentially both the best and worst decision he had ever made. 'Shut up!' half of him screamed, 'he's not even going to be in there when you walk in, so stop getting your knickers in a twist!'

'Well, I know he's not going to be there right now, I'm two hours early anyway!' Caleb argued with himself, 'So what's the harm in dropping in, having a cup of tea and leaving? No expectations, okay?'

And with that, "no expectations" Caleb entered the cafe.

The moment he stepped inside, he forgot what had kept him away from this place for so long and rediscovered why this was Thom's favorite spot. Low, warm lighting gave the space a cozy atmosphere that made you feel like a night owl, even in the afternoon. There were a few giant, comfy couches and chairs in the middle of the room, and all along the walls were a dozen or so painted metal tables, surrounded on all sides by all sorts of mismatched dining chairs. Each wall of the place was practically plastered with paintings and tapestries and posters from local events, that is except for the far wall behind the bar which was wallpapered with the tiny paper tags from tea bags. Once inside, he felt at ease again. Maybe the two-hour wait (without any expectations, of course) wouldn't be so bad.

Caleb settled into a high-backed chair in the corner, facing out the window as he sipped from a steaming mug of his favorite green tea and nibbled absentmindedly at a lemon ginger scone. He began people-watching as he waited, watching the bundled-up New Yorkers rush to their destinations against the chilled autumn wind. After some time, Caleb found his gaze wander from the scene through the window to the handful of occupants scattered about the coffee shop.

For a Saturday morning, the cafe was surprisingly vacant. A woman sat alone in the far corner, rapidly tapping out an inaudible tune with the eraser of her pencil as she became increasingly visibly stressed over her sudoku. A young couple sat curled up together on one of the upholstered sofas, cradling cups of hot chocolate as the girl twisted her boyfriend's hair between her fingers. A few other people occupied the space, silently keeping to themselves, but there was one man to whom Caleb's gaze could not help but return.

The man sat just two tables down, in a chair facing Caleb. Many of his features were obscured by a large hardcover of Thomas Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow on which he focused his downturned eyes. Caleb could see that his hair was rather long, nearly reaching the shoulder. And however engrossing his book may have been, he seemed to be distracted by something. Every once in a while, he would sigh and massage the bridge of his nose beneath his black-framed glasses.

There was something about this man that just drew Caleb in. In fact, he was so absorbed in studying this man that it took him a moment to notice that he was being studied in return.

The moment Caleb's eyes met that man's, he was filled with a truly genuine terror. A feeling of absolute panic overtook him, like the feeling of a deathly cold hand claiming each vertebra of his spine. He had only seen such startlingly blue eyes on one man before.

When that horrific feeling manifested itself in every muscle and pore on Caleb's face, he could see those luminous, icy eyes fill with both sorrow and a glint of a smile. Caleb watched as the world moved before him, leaving vague, abstract impressions in his mind. He saw the book being laid down gently on the table. He heard the sound of the chair squeak as it was pushed against the wooden floor. He saw that familiar pair of brown oxfords, now scuffed and dirty as they stepped toward him. He felt his mouth hanging open as he saw that familiar face staring down at him from above.

"Hello, Caleb."

Caleb couldn't do anything as that warm voice rang in his ears. His breathing began to catch in his throat as tears welled up in his eyes, so hot that they could have turned to steam.

"Y...Y-y....y-y-you..." Caleb began to stammer.

Thom knelt down before him and wrapped his arms around Caleb's thin, trembling form. "Yeah, I came... And so did you. It's okay," Thom cooed, shaking like a leaf himself as he ran his fingers through Caleb's soft, silvery-blond hair. He inhaled breath after lung-aching breath of Caleb's scent, that clean and sweet scent that could only belong to Caleb mixing with the smell of his green tea. He had waited far too long for this. Frankly, he didn't care what Caleb said, he was never going to let him out of his sight again.

"Where have you been all this time?" Thom whispered, his own tears beginning to fall on Caleb's shoulder as he remained tightly glued to him, "I've looked all over for you. It was like you fell off the face of the earth when you left. I hope you've been okay. I've been so worried... You look good though. Jesus... I've missed you so much!"

Suddenly, Thom felt the body in his arms begin to shake, not with tears, but with laughter. He pulled away, smiling sadly as he held Caleb at arm's length. "What is it?" Thom asked, brushing away Caleb's tears with his thumb.

"It's just..." Caleb continued to laugh through his sobs, "I was so prepared for the worst... I just don't know what to do." Caleb smiled, reaching out a hand to Thom's face, cupping his cheek, rough with a thick stubble, "I'm so happy, I don't know what to do."

Thom pulled Caleb close once more, "You should know that I never want to stop holding you like this, but I think a couple of wrecks like us are starting to cause a scene here. We should go find somewhere to talk, okay?"

"Okay," Caleb sighed dreamily. It had been such a long time since he had been in such good spirits.

Caleb watched on in awe as Thom released him and returned to his table to pack up his things and put on his coat and gloves. Caleb couldn't help but notice how this past year had taken a toll on Thom's body. He had definitely lost weight, making his already towering height seem even more impressive (especially to the petite Caleb). It also seemed as if he had lost track of shaving, but the beginnings of a beard actually seemed to suit him. He realized just how much he had missed seeing that man.

Thom returned to Caleb with a smile on his face once again. Caleb brightened up as he saw Thom and stood, "Ready?" "You bet," Thom beamed, tucking his arm around Caleb's shoulders.

As the pair exited the cafe, the biting late-fall wind chilled Caleb to the core. He brought his hands up to his face, his warm breath defrosting his digits. "I probably should have brought a real coat, huh?" Caleb said, looking up at Thom as they walked, "Or at least a sweater with pockets..."

"Hold on," Thom said, stopping mid-stride and turning toward Caleb. Thom pulled the black leather glove from his right hand and handed it over to Caleb. "Here you go," Thom beamed as Caleb curiously accepted the kind yet strange gesture. "One glove? I guess that's better than none," Caleb sighed, sliding the much-too-large glove over his thin hand. Caleb turned to face forward and was ready to continue walking when he felt Thom's warm right hand hold onto his cold left one. "See, now they're both warm," Thom said, blushing slightly as squeezed Caleb's hand.

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"Not two days after you left, I realized that I had made the biggest mistake of my life," Thom said, settling down on his sofa as he rested his hand on Caleb's thigh.

It only seemed logical to come back to Thom's place as Caleb's apartment was all the way in Brooklyn and he shared the space with Elliott (of course he hadn't told Thom that yet, but that would come later.) It was a bit of a mess these days, though Caleb didn't mind in the least. As long as Thom was there...

"I definitely don't want to talk about him anymore, and I know you don't want to hear about him anymore, but I think this needs to be said: I really thought I was still in love with Julian, Caleb," Caleb's body involuntarily twitched at the mention of Thom's ex-boyfriend's name, "I really did... But the moment you walked out, I didn't once think of him. I only wanted you to come back, to stay with me. I thought I was still in love with Julian, but having you in my life, I realized I never was."

Thom reached out a hand and gently held Caleb's chin, turning his face up toward his own. "I haven't been able to think of anything else but you. I'm... I'm a fucking wreck without you. Caleb..." Caleb swallowed hard as he looked up into Thom's clear, watery eyes.

"Caleb, I'm in love with you."

In this moment, there were a myriad of things that could be said. There were millions of ways Caleb could have expressed his relief, his joy, his love. The means of vocalize his feelings were abundant, but through the chaos of Caleb's delirious and blissed-out thought processes, he didn't choose any of those articulate responses.

"Jesus fucking Christ."

Caleb's hands grasped the nape of Thom's neck and pulled him close, his lips receiving such sweet assuagement after an entire year of torment. Thom leaned forward, his tongue finding entrance between the saccharine lips which so quickly yielded to him. He found himself overwhelmed with a passion the likes of which he had never experienced before in his life. He had never wanted someone so badly. Their tongues struggled against one another in the furnace of their mouths as their hands brushed against cheeks and thighs and grasped at shoulders and hips. They became so desperate and needy for one another that all common sense was lost and all else was incinerated by the heat of their bodies.

Caleb was the one to break the kiss, coming up gasping for air. "Thom," he husked, shifting his weight as he attempted to climb up into Thom's lap. As he got to his knees, the couch proved to be more uneven ground than he had previously thought and Caleb toppled backward off the couch, nearly cracking his head against the corner of the hard wooden coffee table.

"Oh god, Caleb, are you okay?" Thom said with anxiety and laughter as he stood up to help Caleb.

"I'm fine!" Caleb said from the floor, where he seemed to be literally rolling with laughter across the carpet.

Thom extended his hand down to Caleb to help him to his feet, but was slightly startled to feel Caleb's hands wrap around his wrist. "C'mere," Caleb said, still laughing and smiling wryly as he tugged Thom down on top of him.