Let Somebody Love You

By Dabeagle

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Snow flurries swirled in the air as I made my way across campus. I wasn't in any hurry; while my academic semester had ended a week and a half before, one of the instructors had needed help to pack up supplies in their room, as they'd be changing spaces for a remodel of the building, and they were giving me some extra instruction on my art on the side in exchange for the assistance. They didn't trust the maintenance people with their stuff, which I kind of got. Nice to have control over your own things – that way if it's wrong, it's on you.

I also wasn't all that excited to go home, because Walker was away with his family. It would be nice to see my parents, and I suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing to see my little sister. I mean, close to worst, but you know. Long-distance relationships...I have to say, they are the worst. Some days I missed him so much it hurt. Well. Maybe that's a little dramatic, but I missed him a lot.

After some serious soul searching, I'd decided to minor in art. I really did enjoy drawing, but I decided not to try and make a career from it for two reasons. Number one, I was afraid doing it full time, if I managed to find a job in that field, would drain my joy. My dad likes his clocks, but he said he never took it any farther because he'd grow to resent it. I guess it's sort of the opposite of 'doing what you love means not working a day in your life,' because something isn't always fun anymore if you have to do it instead of just wanting to.

Reason two was just practical. There are a lot of talented people – even gifted people – who struggle to make a living from their art. There is this real disconnect in the value of art versus other things that take time to create. I knew I enjoyed my drawing, and I'd had ideas about some kind of a web comic, but the reality is that...I'm not that guy. I'm not going to promote myself on social media to get a following. I don't know anyone in an art-related industry that could give me a head start or an initial platform.

Instead I was starting business courses with a major in marketing. I wasn't going to set the world on fire with it, but I didn't hate it either.

Reaching my dorm, I crossed the lobby to the stairs and went up the two flights to my floor. My roommate had moved out after his last exam – and that was a relief. He hadn't been an evil guy or anything, but we weren't exactly bros either. I'd had to listen to him first tell me how he had no problem with me being gay, but to not hit on him.

As if.

Plus the moron also thought he was some kind of authority on relationships and kept telling me, more or less, that I should dump Walker and play the field at college. He shared this opinion a few weeks in.

“I'm not saying it's the right thing to do,” he said, reclined on his bed with his laptop open. “I'm just saying that's how things usually work out. You look around and you see all these people here at school – they talk about their little high school sweetheart, and then they can't keep it in their pants the first chance they get. I mean it's kind of sad, but it also makes sense. Long distance relationships don't work.”

They weren't easy, that much was true. I grabbed some of my stuff and made a trip to my car as I recalled driving the over an hour to get home on the first weekend I didn't have a work study schedule to interfere. I didn't even go home first, but went straight to Walker's apartment. We spent most of the evening just cuddled in his bed and watching something dumb on a tablet.

That wasn't the only complication at college, of course. I'm...nothing special. I'm five foot seven, I run, and I'm just an average-looking guy. I don't think people would pick me out of a crowd or anything. I'm not down on myself – like I don't wish I were super good looking, and I'm not jealous of pretty people. Maybe it was just never that important to me. But last year, this...bizarre set of things just kind of collided. I can only call it bizarre, because the word really fit.

Again, I'm not going to stop traffic, but I'm also not a troll. I'm just an average white boy with brown hair, brown eyes and relatively clear skin. My body count is three. The first was a friend who I'd hooked up with over a summer, who then had gotten very weird due to stuff at his home and who eventually came back to me for help and support. To be clear, he didn't come back for sex or a relationship – that wasn't on the table. Marc was still in a weird head space, but he and his mom were in their own place. His dad wouldn't sign divorce papers...just a sad mess.

Number two was Victor. Vic had been different from Marc – though now that I think of it, they were both Latin, so maybe I had a type before Walker. I don't know. Victor had been sure of himself, sure he'd wanted me in his bed, and he'd gotten his way. Victor and I didn't have anything to really build on, but he was valuable to me because he was the first person to ask me if I didn't want more than just sex. I hadn't really thought about it before that, but once he'd said it, the question bounced in my head for a bit.

Vic wasn't a bad guy. Far from it, really, but I think our biggest connection, at the time, had been in bed. I don't look down on folks that sleep around. Even if they aren't up front that all they want is sex, people are going to people, and a lot of them are not worth thinking about. That time with Vic had ended with the summer, and that fall I'd met – and fallen in love with – Walker Kay.

I should be clear that Walker isn't perfect. He goes through normal human bullshit. Sometimes he doesn't want to talk to me because he's got to square stuff for himself first. Sometimes I'm part of the solution for him – in fact, the longer we dated, the more he would include me from the start in whatever was going on in his head. Still, we disagreed sometimes, and we worked through stuff. His dad was a gambler and put the family in a bad way financially. He was finally working again, and he was going to his gamblers anonymous meetings.

I had mixed feelings about Walker's dad. On the one hand, he'd fucked up majorly and hurt my boyfriend – mentally, emotionally. His dad's actions had cost them their home and stability, which they were recovering from. It was a point of embarrassment for Walker, but Walker and I had learned a lot, too. Gambling like his dad did...it's a disease. Like alcoholism or addiction. It took a while, and Walker and I talked about it sometimes, but I think when you understand the situation as a disease rather than uncaring irresponsibility, it's easier to process. So while I held some...resentment? – some leftover negative feelings about what he'd done and how it affected Walker, it was clear he loved his son and Walker loved his dad.

Circling back, though, that wasn't the last of Victor. I made a few trips between my dorm room and my car, just thinking. When I'd come to college, I'd ended up picking the same one Ian, my older brother, attended. It also happened to be the one Victor went to. I'd been in the dining hall getting some breakfast when Victor plopped down next me with a big smile.

“Do you really go here, or did your brother kidnap you and bring you to school?”

I chuckled and Victor grinned. “Nah. I'm a freshie. You came back for year two, huh?”

“Yeah. It took me a semester, but I got into a groove here. I got into the nursing program and really found something I was interested in. Weird, right?”

I bobbed my head. “Nursing is a tough one, I hear.”

“Yeah, it is – but interesting.” He grinned. “Catch me up, tell me about you.”

I gave him a little smile. “I'm in a long distance with my boyfriend. Won't see him for another few weeks, but I'm dying to go home.”

Victor's eyes went wide, and he smiled and asked me to tell him all about my boyfriend. So I related how we'd gotten together. I left out some stuff, of course, but Victor seemed genuinely happy for me. I admit, I was thinking he just sat down to see if we could hook up – vain, I know, but that was our history. Seems Vic grew up a little.

“Well, I'm personally happy you found someone like that,” Vic said. “I know you'll be shocked to learn I'm dating.”

“Yeah? How many at once? Is it a record?” I teased.

He waved a hand. “That would be work. No, I met this guy in my phlebotomy class. I thought he was a little weird at first, but he really grew on me.” He shook his head with a smile. “Feels so weird to have this conversation with you. This must be what it's like to run into people from your old high school, maybe someone you dated, and catch up like full-sized people.”

“Walker is taller than me – and I mean a lot taller. He used to crack more jokes about it, but I've reminded him I can easily hit him in the nuts, so....”

He laughed. “Not the full-sized I meant.” He paused. “You know, for about a month after I last saw you I kept thinking I should reach out. Make an effort. I guess...sometimes not making things awkward is a good thing.”

“Yeah. Worked out.”

That night I'd made a video call to Walker. If I couldn't be with him, I liked to see him when we talked.

“So wait, your ex goes there?” he'd asked

“Yeah. I wasn't sure if he still did – I ran into him the one time I came up to the school to see Ian last year.”

“Is he cute?”

“He's my ex, what do you think?” I laughed..

“You can be such an asshole,” he grumbled, smiling at me.

“For real, though, calling him an ex is probably stretching it. We didn't really date; it was just hooking up. Nothing serious.”

“I don't know. Sex is kind of serious.”

“Hmm. Well, yes and no.” I thought a moment. “With us, it is. It's not just about going to pound town.”

“Wait, it's not? I feel lied to.”

“Now who's an asshole?” I asked with a laugh.

He sighed and brushed his hair from his face. “I miss you.”

I sighed. “Me, too. I...keep telling myself I'll see you soon. It helps, a little.”

I made my last trip into my dorm room and sat on the mattress, looking around to see if I'd missed anything. It's probably what you'd picture – an empty, almost joyless shade of puke on the walls and linoleum tile floor for easy clean up. For some reason the puke-colored walls triggered something completely unrelated in my head.

When Walker and I were in our talking stage, this guy, Corey, had made my life an embarrassment with how obsessed he got with me. No matter how narcissistic that sounds, I swear, it's the truth. We were at a party, and he'd gotten some beer muscles and come out to me and the whole room of drunk people around us and asked me out.

I wasn't into Corey. I hadn't even really known about Corey before that night. I mean I knew of him, sort of, but we hadn't ever really talked that I remember. All of a sudden, this guy is everywhere. He's bugging me on the daily about a date. He's asking me to homecoming. He just wouldn't accept that I wasn't interested, no matter how many times I said it. Eventually I lost my shit. I don't get being obsessed with me – some people might even describe me as gray paint, if I was a color. I just don't think I'm special.

I think I have to point out, though – I'm not unhappy with who I am or what I look like. Maybe I'm not my type? But things like my height or hair / eye color...I didn't earn those. I mean my physique, to a point, is mine. So I'm really just not understanding people that get obsessed with how someone looks. Like...Walker looked nice when I met him, but his appearance actually grew more attractive to me the longer I knew him. Maybe if Corey'd actually known who I was rather than...I don't know, whatever was going on in his head with his idea of me....

But, here's Corey, acting like I'm a celeb. It was really uncomfortable, and he never really seemed to care about that. But Walker and I moved out of our talking stage and into dating like it was the most natural and exciting thing. Easily my best move, ever.

Walker and I are kind of opposite. Walker is tall and blond, and his personality is a lot closer to sunshine than mine is. Maybe we balance each other in a way; he brings parts of my personality out I didn't know I had. I was never a cuddler before him. I learned to be attentive to his needs and wants – taking the time to understand and appreciate someone.

Walker and I had a really well-rounded relationship, I thought, and I was determined to do the work to keep it. We'd kind of cemented our relationship last year over Thanksgiving break. Being intimate with Walker wasn't like it had been with Marc or Victor. Sure, the basic act was the same, but....

Marc had been my first time. I had been excited to get off – and maybe that was the point for both of us. Maybe I'd been too shallow or immature to see potential problems. We'd gone from hanging out to getting together for the purpose of hooking up. Somewhere we'd lost the friendship in favor of the sex, but of course it was more complicated than that. I guess, more than anything, that was the biggest thing I'd learned: things were always more complicated than they seemed.

Victor had been straightforward that it was a fling. They'd both felt good, but Victor more so, because things were more defined. Maybe. I mean, I don't know what form I'd expected things to take with Marc, but Victor had just...made his interest known, and I liked that. I liked the security of knowing his intent, even if it was just to have sex. I suppose, looking back, it was because things with Marc had gotten so messy.

It's probably cringe to say it, but Walker brought something extra with him – or it was something extra that was between us – and it was easily the best sex of my life. It wasn't always easy to find the time and place, and we'd come close to getting caught a few times. But between those frantic moments when we were just so damn excited to share ourselves with each other, there was all this life we were developing and sharing. We'd spend entire days in my car, listening to music and just going somewhere – stopping if we saw something interesting, but other than that we'd talk, sing along, or sometimes we'd just hold hands while I drove.

I thought Walker made me better, and Walker said he'd never been happier and...that's it. It's my hill to die on, I guess.

Last summer had been so busy. I'd been working to save cash, because the work study would help, but since I wouldn't get as many hours as I would at the chain I worked for, I would have less income. I don't know why that was on my mind, but it was. Walker had kept up his hours at the diner where he worked, and he'd gotten his license, though he was a long way from getting a car. In an odd way, the summer felt very adult to me. We were working, dating, filling our days with experiences.

And yes, fucking. Sorry, not sorry. You can call sex anything you like. I even understand why some people want to call it making love, but I've come to a different conclusion. I think the idea of making love and the lust more associated with the word fucking can happen at the same time. I mean, think about it. Lust is what chubs you up. I look at Walker sometimes, and my whole chest is nothing but the essence of happy. Not all the time, maybe not even the majority, but sometimes – yes. Some people like to act as if the making love idea happens in a state like that.

But when you mix that feeling with the lust of being with him, getting his clothes off...I don't know. Can you really have sex without having an element of lust? And if you can, is it worth it? That sounds like the definition of bad sex. So I don't get people who get all twisted up over what you call it, because my boyfriend has no complaints – and honestly, his is the only opinion besides mine I care about when it comes to that.

I'd had conversations with Walker about where I should go to school. My parents were thrilled, of course, thinking I was pinning my educational future on my relationship. In fact, Walker advocated for this school because it had what I wanted – minus being close to him. I can't honestly say my relationship hadn't played a factor, but I figured I could come home on weekends where Walker was free – but between my work study job and his schedule, it turned into precious little actual together time.

One of our first calls once I'd left was when we'd talked about Victor. Some people will probably say I should have just kept quiet and, you know, not mentioned the guy I fucked for an entire summer was at the same school. It was a big enough school I wasn't sure I'd even run into him, and I didn’t know if he still went there – but of course we'd run into each other, and I wasn't going to keep that from Walker. I may be boring – gray if you want – but I wasn't going to keep shit from my boyfriend.

About a month into school, the weekend after my first visit home, college got weird. I mean you could say that it had been kind of weird right away if you think about Victor – but Vic was in a different year, in a different curriculum...it had just been chance we'd run into each other. I'm not sure I really saw him the rest of the semester, and even though we were friendly – maybe even liked each other – we were both busy.

My roomie was being loud with a couple of his bros in our room, so I'd gone to the library to work. I'm not a big reader, but there's something calming about being surrounded by all those words. Rows on rows of ideas and stories and whispers of lives lived. I just liked the atmosphere. I'd been working for about twenty minutes when someone sat down beside me. It was a square table, so not right next to me, but this person hadn't picked the seat across from me – and it was for a reason.

Corey.

Fuck my life.

“Hey, Noah.”

Motherfucker.

Of all the people I personally know, Corey is the most annoying. He'd backed off a bit in high school, but he'd been a huge pest at school – more of a stalker, really. People don't think teenage guys can get to that point, but do you ever really know where a crush crosses into being dangerous? I figured at college I'd only run the risk of seeing him if we were both home on a break, and even then he could be avoided. What were the fucking odds he'd go here, too?

“What?” I asked.

Let me be clear here. Some people you cannot be nice to. Some people use even the pretense of being polite as an excuse to force their way into your space. Corey was such a person.

“Damn. Need a cup of coffee?” he asked with a smile.

“No. I'm trying to work.”

He grunted and continued to smile. “I can wait.”

“I'd rather you didn't.”

He ran his hand over one side of his face. “Okay, I can see you're still a little angry. I mean, come on. That was high school.”

“Again, trying to work.”

He let out a breath and pretended to shiver. “Damn. So frosty.”

It occurred to me that Corey was just not going to stop, at least not until he got to say whatever it was that was on his smooth brain. I sighed. “Let's just get this over with; what do you want?”

He leaned back in his chair. “Okay, to the point. We're not kids anymore. High school is over and all the crap that went with it. To be honest, I'm glad we didn't get together in high school.”

I raised an eyebrow. He's not the only one.

“No, for real,” he said, leaning forward and clasping his hands together on the table. “High school is just where you figure some stuff out. But now that we graduated, both heading out to build lives...I'm ready. I know myself better, I understand more. I want to take my shot with you.”

I shook my head and leaned back in my chair. “Amazing.”

He smiled. “I know I came on kind of strong-”

“No.”

He paused, and an expression of uncertainty flashed across his features. “Well, I mean, I did. Just...hear me out.”

Maybe if I do, he'll go away, I thought.

“I...did a lot over the summer. Dated a little. Kind of explored what was out there. Thing is...you were always in the back of my head. The perfect guy and-”

“I'm going to stop you right there,” I said.

“Let me finish!”

“No!” I hissed, trying to keep my voice down. “You never learn, Corey! You don't know me. You have some idea in your head about who I am – and I'm not that person.”

“Yeah, okay, you may be right-”

“Jesus Fucking Christ,” I muttered and closed my laptop and stuffed it angrily into my bag. I looped my messenger bag over my shoulder and headed for the exit, but if you've been paying attention, there is no way you figured Corey sat there and let this – me – go. As soon as we were outside, he fell in beside me.

“Noah, for Christ's sake, will you just stop for a second and hear me out?”

“There is nothing to hear!” I snapped. “I have a boyfriend, and even if I didn't, I'm not interested!”

He tugged on my elbow and stepped around me, bringing me up short. I took an awkward step back so I didn't walk into him and balled my fists at my sides.

“Noah! High school is over!” he said, heat in his voice. “Okay, so you had a boyfriend – but where is he, huh? Little boy is back in high school, that's where. I'm right here – I can be here every day for you. It's only a matter of time before you break up, anyway. Think about it. He's over an hour away, and he's got needs – just like you do. Just like I do. Except I love you, Noah.”

I gritted my teeth and pushed a slow breath out. I closed my eyes for a second and then focused on this human equivalent of a pimple.

I hitched my bag and looked him in the eye. “You know, Corey, you've stepped in shit every single chance you had with me. You've embarrassed me and yourself, and you don't seem to care.”

He shook his head. “Not when it comes to you. I'd do-

“Nothing.” I glared at him. “You'd do nothing that wasn't selfishly trying to get your own way. Yeah, long distance fucking sucks, and I say that with my whole chest. But I also say this: I love Walker. Walker loves me – and you know what the difference between him loving me and when you say that shit? He knows me, so he's actually got real reasons. You made up some fantasy – and be real, Corey. Whatever you think of me in your head, I could never be that. I'm not a fantasy. I'm...boring. I'm introverted. I'm-”

“Being stubborn,” he said, sulking a bit. “And yeah, I know I haven't gotten to know you. This is what I'm saying – I'm right here. I'm not still in high school, and I want to take care of you.”

I threw my hands in the air. “Jesus fuck. I don't want to be taken care of, and not by you!”

He pressed his lips together. “Look, some high school guy got you on your back, and you thought that was the best. I'm here to tell you-”

I burst out laughing and his face clouded with anger. “See? That right there. In your little fantasy of me I'm a bottom, just looking for the right-sized dick.” I narrowed my eyes and leaned forward just a little. “But you know what, Corey? When I'm deep inside Walker and his long, strong legs are wrapped around me so he can pull me in deeper – the last thing I'd ever think of is you.”

He stared at me, lips pressing against each other, and I stalked around him. Fucking asshole.

“Damn it, Noah! Hang on!”

I whirled, and this time he was brought up short. Before I could even open my mouth he had his hands up.

“Look, okay! Okay! Yes, maybe I have the wrong idea. I mean, I think you'd like it, but that's...so far down the line!” he said with a chuckle and ran his fingers through his hair.

“It's a 'never going to happen', Corey.” I took a half-step forward. “Listen to me, Corey. I don't like you. I'm not attracted. I don't like your personality. I don't want to date you, and the idea of having sex with you makes me want to puke. Go find someone who actually likes insecure narcissists.”

I crossed campus and headed up the stairs to the common area near my room. My door was open, and I could hear people talking – my roomie was probably still gaming or whatever with his friends – so I flopped down on the couch by the window and looked out the window at the campus. I looked at the time and decided Walker should be out of class, so I called him.

His face popped up on my screen, and he smiled. “Hi, babe. No class?”

I shook my head. “Not for another hour.” I sighed. “I was working in the library, and fucking Corey sat down.”

He frowned. “Corey like the guy from our school?”

“Same. I don't fucking understand him. I'm not the only guy out there, and he still thinks I'm this guy in his head who’s supposed to just fall for him.”

“That's fucking creepy. What happened?”

“He tried to say you and I wouldn't work out because of the long distance and how you have needs and I have needs – he was just trying to get me in bed. Thinks he loves me. Fucking jerk.”

He laughed. I looked at him with a little irritation. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry,” he said, covering his smile with his hand.

“The fucks so funny?” I asked, feeling some of my tension start to leave my shoulders. I think I was somewhat concerned Walker might think someone would have a chance with me, just because we had some distance between us.

“I just... If he knew you for a second, I mean really had any clue about who you are, he'd know he was doomed from the start.”

I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, and my lips twitched in amusement. “Oh? I guess you're going to tell me, since you actually know who I am?”

He grinned. “Nope.”

I dropped my mouth open in surprise. “That's not fair.” My lips curled involuntarily. “I think this is information you should share.”

He scrunched his lips off to one side, and then did the same with his eyes before looking back at me. “I'll tell you next time I see you in person.”

“Walker!” I whined.

“I'm at the diner. Gotta go.” He leaned in, his face filling the screen. “I love you. I miss you. I can't wait to see you.” And he hung up before I could reply. Brat.

After my four o'clock class, I took a quick look at my schedule to confirm my class in the morning wasn't until ten and made an impulsive decision. I'm not really an impulsive person – I guess that's part of why I'd understand people thinking of me like gray paint, especially next to Walker and him being – likely – sunshine yellow paint. I'm cautious. I plan. I don't take many risks – not without mitigating what I can. I guess that might make me boring.

Walker changes me, a little. Probably not a fair statement. Walker lets me give myself permission to do things I wouldn't normally do. So I grabbed something at the dining hall and then started the trek back to my hometown. Walker was working, but he had fairly short shifts, and the diner wasn't the twenty-four hour type. By the time I got there it was seven-thirty, and I figured he'd be out by eight, since that was his normal schedule.

The air was cool, but not uncomfortable, and I sat down on my trunk, resting my feet on my bumper and looked at my phone.

I was a little surprised when my mom called.

“Hi, Mom. What's going on?”

“I was going to ask you – is everything okay, or did you just miss Walker too much? Your dog will get jealous.”

“Uh.”

“I have an alert on my phone that you're in town. It's a GPS thing.”

I pulled my head from my phone and started at it for a second. “You what?”

Her laughter sounded from the speaker. “I'm kidding! I picked your sister up from dance class, and I'm on the way home – I saw you pull into the diner's lot.”

I grumbled at her. “The scary part is I believed you the first time.”

She laughed. “I know – overbearing mother spying on her kids.” Her tone shifted to something more cautious and caring. “In all seriousness...is everything okay?”

I ran my hand over my forehead. “Yeah. I just had a run-in at school with this guy from high school. He was being himself, which is to say a complete ass. I called Walker, and he decided to say cryptic things just for fun. You know, to get under my skin.”

“As you do,” she said.

“Right. So basically...I'm here because he left me hanging. Have to finish the conversation, you know? Get the rest of his thoughts.”

“And then make out enough to last until your next visit.”

I adopted a hurt tone. “I'm a good boy, Mom.”

“Speaking of good boys, Bruno has stopped crying at your bedroom door, though he still sulks on the couch sometimes. I know you're not wanting to visit your folks, but maybe you could stop by and see the dog?”

I chuckled. “I'll bring Walker by so we can visit before I take him home.”

“Well, in that case maybe I'll arrange for some dessert,” she said, a smile in her tone. We disconnected, and I thought about that conversation for a minute. My mother was still the same person, but she'd surprised me with some growth in terms of how she related to Ian and myself. My dad said that watching your kids grow up is a mixed blessing, for him. He loves us and wants us to be happy and successful for ourselves, but there is sadness at seeing us move into areas that they can't really be involved in. He explained it's all natural and that parents aren't meant to be present as much in their adult children's lives, but more that their involvement changes. Less rules, more guidance. Same love, different kinds of support. I think my mom came to that realization over the last year. It's improved our relationship, and maybe my little sister will be the biggest beneficiary.

Then again, she's a little shit, so maybe not.

“What...are you doing here?” Walker said, a smile in his voice as he descended the short flight of steps from the diner.

“I'm here because you were being unnecessarily cryptic.”

“Got your curiosity up?” he asked, grinning and stepping between my knees and leaning down to lean his forehead to mine.

I stared into his eyes. “It won't work every time, you know.”

“Do I?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Because I have tests and assignments, and you know how responsible I am,” I said, trying to sound authoritative.

He smiled. “And yet here you are.”

“You're impossible.”

“I am.”

“I have to bring you by my parents' house. They will have dessert.”

He chuckled. “How did they even know you were here?”

“Mom-dar. She joked about some GPS tracker, and I almost don't believe her.”

He laughed and leaned his head back. “That would be fun to watch. You guys fighting like you did when we got together.”

“She starts it!” I protested.

He cupped my face and gave me a kiss before leaning back and grinning. “So. You just showed up to get my insights on you?”

I pursed my lips and pulled him closer to me by his hips. “I...sometimes have...thoughts. Worries.”

He tilted his head to one side, and his smile slipped from his face. “About what? Me? Us?”

I frowned. “I've seen too many movies and shows where people hide things from each other. Not always intentional, and not always big things – but sometimes there's problems that come out because someone decides not to mention stuff.” I looked up at him, and relaxed my expression. “When things happen at school – like running into Victor or Corey and his bullshit – I don't feel like I should hide those things happening from you, because I want you to trust me.”

“I do.”

“But,” I said, ducking my head, “I do sometimes wonder if it makes you...concerned. Worried about me being tempted or something.”

He hummed and laced his fingers behind my neck. “When we first got together, yes. Definitely. When Marc first popped back up in your life, I admit to being a little worried. Not specifically about you cheating or something, but more about the complications from an ex, the emotions that might come up, the...that shit gets complicated and that other people have agendas.”

“I...think I get what you're saying.”

He tilted his head to one side. “It's like this. Maybe Marc – at the time – shows up and you feel obligated or like you'd be a bad person to not help out. But if he had other goals or had the idea for different goals after he was kind of back in your orbit, that makes for stress and drama no matter how it goes.”

“Yep. I'm with you.”

“But...you never hid anything. You didn't even let the fact he'd been waiting for you after work sit a whole night. I have never trusted a person like I trust you, except maybe for my mom. I know if you do something that hurts me, it wasn't intentional. Intent matters. So when you call me up and say Corey popped up in your life again, thinking things would change...I knew just how little he understood you.”

“Ah,” I said with a smile and squeezed his butt, making him jump. “Now we get to the good stuff.”

He shifted his hands, letting his forearms rest on my shoulders as he leaned a bit closer. “Oh. So you're here for me to stroke your ego?”

I grinned. “We're in public, so it's the only kind of stroking we can do.”

He laughed aloud and covered his mouth with one hand, but I kept a grip on him. “Okay. You want to know why I know Corey has no shot. Is that it?”

I nodded comically at him. “Educate me.”

“Okay, first? You're stubborn as fuck.”

I widened my eyes. “Uh.”

“Don't even,” he said, pulling back and shaking a finger in my face. “Before I even got there you were standing in front of a guy with a gun for Bruno. That's the definition of stubborn.”

“Agree to disagree,” I said. “Give me another example.”

He grinned. “We were supposed to have our 'Italian' night dinner.”

“Oh, come on!” I whined, starting to laugh.

“And we didn't have a reservation, and you kept talking to the host until one of the reservations canceled, and you took their table.”

“Persistence. I'd promised my boyfriend an Italian dinner.”

“You do realize we could have gone for pizza? Would have qualified.”

“Maybe for others, but my boyfriend is kind of bougie.”

His eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. “No, you didn't.”

I adopted a nose in the air and flipped my wrist around in a dismissive way. “I can't wear those shoes.”

He laughed. “They don't make them in my size!”

I grinned and pulled him by his hips again, and he resumed resting his forearms on my shoulders. “Okay, so you think Corey was doomed because I'm stubborn. That's your case?”

“Just my first point,” he replied.

“Okay, I don't see how that applies though, before you move on to whatever comes after one.”

“That would be two. Usually follows one.”

I dug my fingers into his ribs, and he squealed in laughter, pulling his arms in and turning his shoulder into me. “Stop! Stop. You shit, that tickles!”

I relented, but resumed my grip on his hips. “So explain why number one applies?”

He grinned. “Because not only did you tell him no, but he didn't do anything to make you reconsider your rejection.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And that makes me stubborn?”

He pushed his mouth to one side. “No. The stubborn part comes in that space between him completely blowing his chances with you and us getting together.” He straightened up. “See, if Corey'd been even a little smart, he'd have come back to you – low-key – after he hit on you at that party. The one where he came out and all?”

I nodded and rolled my hand at him to keep going.

“So if he'd realized his mistake in how he'd talked to you and just asked to go for coffee or something, you might have said yes to that. Instead he went the route of acting like a middle school boy with a crush, and so by the time he thought to apologize, your heels were dug in, and it wasn't happening.”

I nodded my head thoughtfully. “Yeah, I can see that. Maybe I would have given him a chance to get over a bad first impression. But I wasn't really attracted to him at any point.”

“Which brings me to number two,” he said. “You're not a love at first sight kind of guy.”

The corners of my lips twitched as I tried to keep a smile off my face. “Go on, Dr. Kay.”

He looked down on me and gave me what I can only think of as a loving smile. “When we first started to talk, there were some sparks but I don't think you'd ever stopped and stared at me or anything. But once we spent some time together...you changed. Kind of like a heavy door opening – you have to pull slow and steady. Yank the handle like Corey, and you just get a sore arm.”

“Now I'm a door?” I asked, deadpan. “And what handle are you pulling?”

“Perv.” I dug my fingers into his ribs again for a moment, just to make him squeal. “Stop! Jerk.” He grabbed my hands and laced our fingers together.

“Was that your whole list of why Corey was doomed?”

“Nope.” He looked at me steadily.

After a moment I raised an eyebrow. “But you're not going to tell me?”

He smiled gently. “Because you love me.”

I couldn't fight the smile that came to my face. “Well, true. But how does that fit?”

He scrunched his lips and folded my hands together, then covered mine with his. “It fits after the fact. Corey lost any shot with you because of you being stubborn and because he doesn't know you. I know you.”

“Ah. Now we're getting to it,” I said with a grin. “Who am I?”

Softly he said, “Mine.”

I waited a beat.

He continued. “I've thought about this a lot. Us. Understanding who you are was really important to me, not just for our relationship, but for me.” He squeezed my hands. “You know I love my dad, and I understand he has a disease. But I still feel...betrayed. That makes things kind of complicated. Maybe it makes me a bad person to not be totally over it – he's doing his best, he's doing what he's supposed to.”

“I get that,” I said quietly.

“So...uh, after Marc popped up again and your first reaction was to come tell me. I...felt this immense fear, at first, that you were telling me because you were going back to him-”

“I never-”

“Shh, shh, shh.” He put a finger to my lips to still my protest. “Let me finish. You wanted me to tell you – drove all this way – so let me finish, okay?”

I sighed. “Okay. But...that was never a thing.”

He nodded. “I know. But my point was, it told me exactly who you were. That your brand of what some people would call stubborn can also be called loyalty and integrity.” He shrugged. “When you iced your parents out because of the whole buying me stuff when they found out about my dad, that was you being stubborn and loyal all in one. After that? I never worried someone would take you away from me, because that's not you. You're not on the table, and you wouldn't say yes to someone as long as we were still together.”

Looked up into his face. “Can't argue that.”

He smiled that loving smile again. “That's why I laughed when you told me about Corey. He doesn't know how loyal you are and how stubborn you can be. So him popping up and saying you're just going to dump me and jump in with him...it was the stupidest thing ever!”

We both started laughing, and my heart swelled up a bit that his confidence in me was real and that I'd been right to communicate with him.

“Well. I should probably take you over to my parents'. Then I'll bring you home before I drive back.”

“What time is your first class?”

I looked at him steadily. “Ten.”

“So if you were to...stay over...you could drop me off at school and still make it back to campus with enough time to shower and get to class? Is that what I'm hearing?”

Why would I ever say no to that?

^*^*^*^

I closed the door to my dorm room and handed the key to the person from the student housing office who'd inspected it and signed off I hadn't burned the place down. As I stepped back out into the cold day, the snow was falling a bit more steadily, and I zipped my coat up to my chin before setting off to the parking lot. I figured I'd stop for a coffee and take the drive back slowly. My parents would have dinner waiting, probably, and I'd spend some time with them and giving Bruno some love – even though the hairball had wrapped my dad around his paw long before I'd left for school.

Walker's family had driven to Florida to visit a relative for the school break, and he wasn't due back until just before the new year. He was going to get to swim in the ocean, though, and I knew he was going to love that. I thought about him in trunks, all wet, and felt my chest and pants tighten. I had to stop or I'd relive the rest of that trip back up to get his thoughts – because I can tell you I got very little sleep, and it's not easy trying to be quiet like that. It was a different kind of sex – the last thing you wanted was the headboard to hit the wall or some rhythmic squeaking from the bed frame.

God, he'd felt good though. Being inside him was like...okay, don't want to drive home with a boner. I pulled into a drive-through and got a hot drink, set some music going and started heading to the highway. As I was getting up to speed, my mom called.

“Hey Mom. I'm just getting on the highway.”

“Oh, good, I was wondering. Are you getting snow down there?”

“Yeah. Big, fluffy flakes. Looks like a white Christmas, huh?”

“Maybe. I love watching the snow fall. It's so peaceful. It's the rest I dislike – shoveling, driving in it, all that.”

“I hear that,” I said with a nod.

“I'll make sure the washer is ready when you get home; you'll want to get things ready,” she said, and I was confused by her tone.

“Uh. Okay. I mean, thanks? I have time to do laundry, though.” I paused. “Don't I?”

“Oops! Sure thing! Drive safe, honey, and dinner will be ready when you get here!”

“Mom,” I said, my tone laced with suspicion. “What did you do?”

“Excuse me?” she asked with a laugh. “I'm completely innocent on this one!”

“Please.” I rolled my eyes.

“At worst I'm a co-conspirator, because your father – let me tell you!”

I sighed. “What did you guys do?”

“I can't hear you.”

“Mom.”

“I think we have a bad connection!”

“Stop crinkling a plastic bag by the phone.”

“See you when you get here! Drive safe! I love you!” And she hung up. I turned that over in my head for a few minutes, wondering just why she'd be so evasive. I knew it was useless to call my dad – the named co-conspirator – because he'd be no help at all. My mind was running in circles due to the lack of information, so in order to break the mental cycle I called Walker, but he didn't answer. The music wasn't enough, so I resorted to calling my older brother, Ian.

“Noah. 'Sup, short king?”

“Isn't that what your girlfriend says when you pull your pants down?”

I heard laughter. “Damn. Who pissed you off?” Ian asked with a laugh.

“Mom's being weird. Have you been home today?”

“First, Mom's always weird. But now that you mention it, she was being a real Nazi about getting the laundry room cleaned before you got home.”

“Huh. She said something to me about that, too.”

“I bounced out of there, though. We're going up that place on the hill; you know, the one with the live bands?”

I thought for a moment. “Oh, yeah. Wait, since when do you like music?”

“Oh my God, Noah. Why the hate, bro?”

“Sounds like he knows you, that's why,” a voice said.

“Listen. Now you got people in the car on my back. I'd tell you what Mom and Dad are up to, but since it'll annoy you more, now I won't.”

“Wait. So they are up to something?”

“Gotta go. Have a happy merry, little bro.”

“Yeah. Uh. Have fun.”

I'd barely disconnected when my phone buzzed with Walker's face on my screen. “There you are,” I said to him.

“Babe! Oh, you're driving? Is that snow?”

“Yes to driving, yes to snow – not that you need to worry about that right now,” I said with a smile. “How's the beach?”

He pulled the phone back and revealed himself on the sand, shirt off and being a complete thirst-trap. “It is beautiful. Look at this!” He turned the phone and panned down the coastline, and I could hear the sound of the waves rolling in. He turned the phone back to face him. “You walk out, and you're right on the beach. This rental is the shit.”

“Believe me, I'm looking!” I said lewdly and then frowned. “I thought your relative owned the place?”

“Oh, they do,” he said enthusiastically. “They own a strip of rentals. We're going to their house Christmas morning and hanging with them some in between, but we get to stay right here on the beach at the rental property. It's so great.”

I smiled just because he was so happy. Some people, when they get happy, they kind of radiate that emotion. “That's great, babe. And of course you look...ung.” I bit my knuckle.

Laughing, he tried to zoom his screen onto his nipple, but then he was back and grinning. “I can't wait to see you.”

I sighed. “Yeah. Wish it wasn't another week.”

He grinned widely. “Hey! Did you get my gift yet?”

I frowned. “I'm not home yet. Did you leave it there?”

I saw his hand move on his screen as I glanced between the call and the road. “You should have it in your email. I have the confirmation in mine.”

“I'm not sure when I last checked my email. Why? Is it a gift card or something? Why would you send it early instead of waiting until you got back?”

He laughed. “Your parents helped. They'll drop you off in the morning.”

Confused I asked. “Drop me off where? For what?”

His eyes sparkled. “Drop you at the airport so you can use my gift. A one way flight to Florida.” He adopted a sad expression. “We'll have to put up with Matty for the ride home, which will be awful, but we'll get to spend Christmas together on the beach.”

I stared at him and back to the road several times. “You bought me an airplane ticket? I'm coming to see you?”

He grinned widely. “My parents both refused to take any more money from me – we actually had a fight about it! But I worked all those hours, and I have no car, and you know what? Some flights are cheap down here and I figured...why not get us a gift?” He paused. “I hope you don't get one of those seats where you have to stand up the whole way.”

I was stunned. “You bought me a ticket to be with you, and my parents helped.”

“Yup! Surprise!” He laughed again. “Oh, one confession, though.”

“What else can there possibly be?” I asked, laughing myself and thinking about seeing him so soon.

He made a big deal out of looking around to make sure he was alone, and then he grinned into the camera. “You're my present, so you better be ready to put sun block on my back.”

I swallowed. “I love you.”

There was that smile again. “You know, I think I love you, too. Now focus on the road, and I'll see you tomorrow.”