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Lucas Davies fell down the rabbit hole ([info]phantos) wrote in [info]musingslogs,
@ 2011-06-18 21:07:00
Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Who: Eli & Lucas
What: Drinks between friends
Where: Reliquary
When: The night after the costume party
Warnings: None

Reliquary was mostly dark by the time Lucas approached the building. It wasn’t his first visit to the shop, and likely not his last, and each time he found it just as charming as his first visit. It was the sort of place one could feel home at, and Lucas could appreciate the charm. The sign in the window indicated that the shop had closed for the evening, but an invitation was an invitation, so he ignored the sign and tried the door, finding it unlocked. Letting himself in, he closed the door quietly behind him, adjusting the bag he had slung over one shoulder, his own offering for the evening.

“Eli?” Lucas called out, the shop different with some of the lights out, shadows lurking in the corners, and while it lacked the ominous feel many places might have in the lack of light, there was a certain mystery in the objects that were scattered here and there, antiques and artisan craftwork. He was admiring a piece of pottery, distracted for the moment in the lines and glaze.

Eli had already started drinking.

It was dark in Reliquary, but the ghosts of the old home wandered in and out of the shadows. A girl crying for her mother, a boy sneaking out for the night, an old woman humming as she baked in the kitchen. Figures of the past moving around in the dark. And in the corner, sitting on an old divan a very real man with dark hair. It was hard to tell him from the others, as they felt as real as he did. It was an indication that he was not just tipsy, that he was beyond that, his ability cavorting on its own in a way it hadn’t since the year after he’d crossed the portal.

Eli lifted his very blue gaze, piercing even in the dark, and he watched his friend enter and close the door. He didn’t respond to the verbal call, but he shifted in the corner, the glowing end of his cigarette drawing attention to the man in denim and a button down shirt (with the buttons askew). He held up his drink in greeting, and then he tipped it back. Whiskey, and the bottle sat on the table in front of him, half empty and a waiting glass for his guest.

None of the figures that roamed the building seemed to pay any mind to him, and though he did not recognize them for what they were, he payed them no mind in turn. Instead, the glow of the cigarette, the smoke that filtered through the air, that drew his attention. Turning towards Eli, Lucas stood where he was for a very long moment, and he would never admit how much it physically pained him to see his friend, his very dear friend, in such a state. “Started without me, I see,” Lucas said quietly, taking a seat on the divan beside the other man, bag sat next to his hip.

“It’s either very good whiskey or something is the matter. I’d place money on the latter.” Shifting how he sat, Lucas angled himself towards Eli, one elbow on the table, his gaze intent. “Talk to me?”

Talking to Lucas had always been easy for Eli, perhaps because they had been so young when they’d first met. Children, with hardly any great concerns between them. It was hard to keep secrets while running barefoot through green grass and hiding from the world, and Eli fell back into that old familiarity as easily as he’d fallen back into Ash’s arms once he became Preston and they were reunited.

Taking a long sip of his drink, Eli pivoted his hip and turned to face his friend on the divan. A push of the whiskey bottle in his direction, and then a drunken smile. “I suppose it begins the year I left home,” he said, as if it was a novel he was reading, and not the story of his own life. He would have rather told it in pictures, but it was dark, and Preston despised his photographs. “But, a drink first,” he insisted. “You must need it after your first Creation event.”

Lucas was quite positive one of them needed to have full control of themselves this evening, but he had promised to join him for drinks, and it would be rude to refuse. “It was a decidedly unique experience, I must say that,” he replied, taking the bottle and hooking a finger in the glass to pull it towards himself. Two fingers of whiskey was poured in the glass before he capped the bottle and pushed it back. “They ought to give warnings for such events. Caution signs posted here and there. Perhaps chastity belts.” He laughed at the thought, though here was hardly the time nor the place for laughter, it seemed.

“Anyways. Your story. I’m listening.” Lucas took a sip of whiskey, intending to make the glass last for as long as he could.

“I was commenting precisely the same thing to Preston this morning, regarding the warnings we should hand out to newcomers,” Eli admitted, and then he went quiet, the mention of Preston’s name reminding him precisely why he was in his cups. Around them, two children chased each other, and Eli considered getting his ability under control, but it seemed too much effort, and he let them be. After all, they weren’t doing any harm.

“I met a boy when I crossed. His name was Ash, and I found myself quite impossibly attracted to him,” he admitted, stubbing out the cigarette he was smoking and lighting a fresh one. “Things happened, an unfortunate occurrence at the high school we attended in Boston, and I refused to return there. We traveled, my aunt and uncle and I, and I pretended I was quite heterosexual for a long while after that.” He sighed, scratching his temple with his thumb, the cigarette teetering precariously between his fingers. “Do you truly want to hear all this? Would you rather not tell me about your evening and your regrets, as it were?”

Lucas listened, this part of Eli’s life that had been after him, after Clovelly and the adventures they shared by the sea. “Of course I want to hear this,” he assured him, though he sidetracked for a moment to tilt his head towards the children chasing one another around, his curiosity getting the better of them. “Though I would very much like to hear why there are all of these people wandering the rooms when I was quite sure I saw a closed sign on the door.” Another sip of whiskey and Lucas put the glass down, picking up a nearby napkin instead to fuss at with his fingers, unconscious even that he was doing so.

“Memories,” Eli explained with a wave and slosh of the amber liquid in the glass. “Of the house.” Reliquary was, after all, merely an old home he’d turned into a shop, and it had history, as all homes did. “It’s my ability, like the one you showed me with the photograph.” He finished the drink, and he set the cigarette on the ashtray as he poured himself another. “Seeing what’s happened in buildings, echoes of things. Quite fitting. I wandered all over this country once I graduated high school, touching walls and the like.” He smiled, a thoughtful smile. He didn’t talk about his ability often these days, and he used it even less since Kenna had left EIT in his care. “I adored it,” he admitted.

It was so very fitting, the ability, and it was quite easy to imagine Eli wandering the country with his hands on the buildings, and the thought and mental image made him smile. “I can tell,” Lucas said with a nod of his head. “It’s... I can imagine it would be a very special thing to see such memories. Though I’m quite positive it has its drawbacks as well; some memories of the buildings cannot be pleasant, but let’s not think of those.” A pause, considering his words, where to lead his inebriated friend in the conversation. “You were talking about traveling, with your aunt and uncle. What happened then?”

“Nothing of import. I spent years at university, and they despaired of me ever leaving. They have no children of their own, you see, and quite a sizable fortune to leave behind. I suspect they wanted to see me do something of value, as I told you at the bar. They purchased this place, sent me here, and I ran into Ash again, the boy from high school. He’d changed his name to Preston, and he didn’t like me so very well.” Eli took another unnecessarily large swig of the drink, and he pointed at Lucas with his glass. “I insist you say something about your evening before I continue. Give and take, as always.”

None of this surprise Lucas in the slightest, all very fitting with what he recalled of his friend. “You drive a hard bargain, my friend. I already told you, my evening was nothing to speak of. I drank a bit, talked to a few people, had my first taste of absinthe. All in all, it was rather unremarkable, though I gather I am one of the few that can say as such. Now, continue?” He lifted a brow as though he dared him to defy his request.

Eli trusted Lucas to tell him the truth, and it would not occur to him that he was being deceived. He sought the lies behind Preston’s words regularly, but he’d never done so with Lucas, had never needed to. He settled back against the divan, and he balanced his glass on his thigh. “He loves someone else, though he claims to love me as well. He cheated on me once, recently, with an ex, a man we both knew quite well, and who I trusted. And now this,” he said, as if this was an expected thing, whatever it was. “What I do not understand, Lucas, is why not simply accept my offer of an open relationship?” He sounded truly confused, and he groaned as he let his head roll back against the cushions. “Things haven’t been going well as of late. Not since since before Blake, if I’m honest.” A mirthless laugh. “But I love him, you see. There’s nothing for it.”

It was a painful tale, Lucas thought, one he did not envy Eli for. It was truly a complicated situation, and it was hard to see a happy ending at the end of the tunnel. “Preston is the same as Ash, the boy you were with in high school? Dare I ask what happened that made you not want to return? I only ask because perhaps it has something to do with how he behaves now. Of course, this is merely speculation. I’ve never been particularly good at relationships, nor have I had time for one much of my life. I’m likely the worst possible person to be talking to about this, actually.” Lucas swallowed back a bit more of his whiskey, relishing the burn, the warmth that filled him from the inside out.

“It was a very conservative, private institution. Very homophobic, and his parents were hardly understanding on that front. We were seen kissing, caught, as it were. I panicked, and I ran, and I left him to deal with the consequences.” Eli didn’t sound proud of himself, because he was not proud of himself. That action had haunted him for years. “I was years younger than him, just turned fifteen to his almost eighteen. I was frightened, and I hid in a closet over it for twice that time over.”

Lucas said nothing for a long while, pondering over his words and explanation and how it affected the pair so many years later. “Perhaps he is simply afraid,” he said quietly, slowly, “that if he were to give too much of himself into this relationship, that something may happen once again and you may leave.” It wasn’t a positive thought, he realised, but it was the only thing that came to mind. “He may not even be conscious of such fears, but I could be completely off the mark. All I know of him comes from what I have learned from you, after all.”

Eli considered the possibility. After all, Lucas was an outsider with no knowledge of Preston, and he might bring some clarity to the situation that Eli, himself, hadn’t considered. “He knows I love him. I don’t think he fear me leaving.” He sighed. “You should meet him. I trust your opinion.”

“Perhaps, some day,” Lucas offered in response, putting down the napkin he had torn to bits, carefully sidestepping the mention of meeting Preston, at least right now. He was quite sure that it would prove only to further aggravate an already delicate situation, and that was something he wanted to avoid. “I’d be a bit biased in the situation, anyways, considering it is you that I know and care for.” Sighing, Lucas tossed back the rest of his drink, reigning in on his promise to make the amount last the night.

Setting the glass back down, Lucas pulled his bag into his lap. “I brought you something. I thought it rude to come and drink without bringing something to share.” The messenger bag was unzipped and he pulled out a bottle of wine, a dark red Merlot with a label that showed much wear. “A graduation gift. I never saw a reason to open it on my own, and I’ve no family here to share it with.” He sat the bottle on the table, pushing it towards Eli with a nod of his head. “You’re the closest I’ve got, nowadays. You would share it with me, no?”

“I do not think you would be biased,” Eli said. “You are, of us, the better man. You’ve always been.”

Eli reached for the bottle, holding it up in the dark so that he could better read the label. “You’ve been saving this all these years, and yet you want to share it with a man who’s so far in his cups he won’t appreciate the bouquet?” he asked, but he wouldn’t think of denying his friend. “This requires proper glasses,” he said, standing with an uneasy sway and a teeter of his whiskey glass as he put it on the windowsill behind him. “Hold a moment,” he said, walking to a nearby china cabinet and pulling it open. “Late 18th century, or early 19th century?” he asked.

Lucas would have liked to have argued on that point, but he kept his tongue, as he had promised Preston earlier that day. “Perhaps not the wisest decision, but it is mine. As for your question...” He trailed off, wondering if Eli might simply tip over with how he swayed. “Early 19th. A penchant for the period. Why do you ask?”

Eli looked through the cabinet until he found two 19th century glasses, amber, heavy and solid at the bottom. He carried them to the sink, banging into only three tables on the way there and one on the way back, and he let him self fall heavily beside Lucas on the couch and held the glasses out to him. “An aged wine deserves a good glass,” he said with a pompous sort of certainty, which was chased by a sad smile. “I’ll take any advice you’ve to offer, while you pour those glasses,” he said. “And you’ve not told me if you want to contact the person you visited with last evening. Your words, darling, not mine.”

He was bound to have bruises, Eli was, thought Lucas as he took the offered glasses, meeting Eli’s gaze for only the briefest of moments. “I don’t believe it would be wise to contact them,” Lucas said absently, digging in his bag once more for the corkscrew he had brought along, uncorking the bottle with practiced motions of one who had drank his fair share of wine. “Those sort of evenings, they aren’t set up for anything more than a one-night encounter, and I believe I am quite content to leave it be.” Each glass was given a fair measure of wine, and corking the bottle, Lucas lifted one of the glasses to offer to Eli. “I work best on my own, I’ve found.” His smile wasn’t quite a lie, wasn’t quite truthful, and lifting his own glass, he toasted against Eli’s.

“To us,” Lucas said with a tip of his head before taking a sip of the wine, watching Eli from over the amber glass.

Eli drunkenly reached for his friend’s hand, and he squeezed it. “No one works best on their own, Lucas,” he said, and he honestly believed that to be true. “We’re not meant to be alone, people. Not in society, not in our homes. Everything here is fast, quick, no one connects or speaks. It’s not what we’re meant for, and I don’t recommend it. Slow down, make connections, call interesting blokes you meet at costume events.” He patted Lucas’ cheek. “You’ll thank me for that advice in the long run, just you wait,” he said, and he reached for the glass. He lifted it a second later. “To old friends, and to my bloody love life, and to your secret lover.”

Lucas couldn’t help but give a roll of his eyes, good natured, of course, at his friend’s drunken advice. “You make more of my love life than there actually is,” he said, taking another drink of his wine before setting the glass down. “No secret lover, no connections with interesting blokes. Just a drink with an old friend, taking a walk down memory lane and revisiting things I haven’t thought of in ages.” He leaned back against the back of the divan, head lolling back, his smile easy and warm. “Would you like to hear a secret, my friend? Something I have not spoke of to anyone?”

Eli followed suit, slouching back against the divan again and merely turning his cheek to look at his friend. “Very well. What is this grand secret you’ve kept from the world all this time?”

He wasn’t entirely sure why he was saying anything now, especially with all that had happened, and it wasn’t as though Lucas had any intention on doing anything more than saying what was on his mind, but it was there and now that he had brought it up, there would be no backpedaling. “A very long time ago, a lifetime ago, it seems, there was a young boy who found himself feeling things for another boy, a very dear friend of his. He never told his friend, never had the chance, but for some reason, he feels the need to say so today.” He paused, taking a drink of his wine, liquid courage. “Not that the boy expects anything, so he hopes his friend does not think ill of him, but it’s the sort of thing that can’t go unsaid forever.” His gaze was warm, either from memories or the fire that burned through his veins, and he was so very there right then. “I just thought you should know, even if it is some twenty years after the fact.”

Eli was drunk enough that he didn’t immediately understand the import of the story he was being told. He thought, at first, that it was merely that - a story. He realized it was not a simple tale somewhere around the break Lucas took for a sip of his wine, and his expression changed from one of rapt attention to one of surprise, albeit unfocused surprise thanks to the amount he’d had to drink. “You’re referring to me?” he asked, and all the surprise that had been in his eyes was in his voice when he asked the question. “But we were children,” he protested. “Or you were, at the very least, and I-” He paused, unable to chase the thought. “You’re referring to me?” he repeated.

“I was already fourteen when we met, Eli. Young, yes, but not that young.” He didn’t answer the question, not directly at least, instead taking another drink of wine before rolling on the seat to look up towards the ceiling, taking in the features of the room and feeling quite foolish for what he had said. “I have no idea why I’ve told you this,” he said after a moment, shaking his head. Straightening in his seat, Lucas leaned forward, head tilted slightly to side as he thought. “I blame the alcohol. Too much in the past two days. It would be best to forget that rambling.”

Eli tended to forget the issue of Lucas’ age, and it took him a few moments to remember that, yes, Lucas had been fourteen when they’d met, despite not appearing it. He waited until Lucas finished, and he reached for his friend’s arm. “You’re referring to me?” he repeated.

He gave a sidelong glance towards Eli, not pulling away, but making no move in response to the touch to his arm. Lips parted to offer some answer that would ease the situation, but nothing seemed proper to say. So instead he gave a nod of his head, a small shrug of his shoulders, and then he distracted himself with a long drink of his wine, not so much savouring the rich drink as hiding within it.

Eli had known the man at his side too long to feel any awkwardness from the confession. “I’m honored,” he said, and even drunk he meant the words. He touched one of the shoulders Lucas had shrugged, his hand warm and solid there, and he pulled himself from his slouch to try to look his friend in the eyes. “I had no idea I was gay then,” he said, admittedly not knowing what would have come of their lives if he had.

Lucas was quiet for a long while, but the reaction had been better than he had ever expected. “I... honestly had little idea of my own preferences, just that my feelings, confused as any teenager’s are, were not the same as I had for other friends in the village.” Lucas looked at the hand on his shoulder, and then he finally met Eli’s gaze, managing a smile. “But it’s in the past now, and I am...” He let out a breath, trying to release some of the tension that had built up in his neck and back. “...grateful to even run into you again. A world this big, two worlds this big, to encounter someone from a lifetime ago? It’s... remarkable, isn’t it?” The rest of the wine was finished off and he grimaced, pushing the glass away.

Eli almost rolled his eyes. He would have done, had he not been so drunk. “Lucas, if you tell me you’re grateful for anything in future, you daft pillock, I’ll pummel you. I’m better at it than I was when we were young,” he said, a drunken smile on his lips. He ruffled Lucas’ hair, a gesture from years past, and he settled back against the divan as he looked at him again. “I’ll not ask if you’re still interested, because I’m feeling particularly vulnerable, and I care about you too bloody much to drag you into this,” he said, and there was real regret in the knowledge that he would make a choice right then that wouldn’t make anything better for anyone.

There was no helping the laugh, then, ducking his head at the ruffle to his hair before he, too, leaned back against the divan, head turned to the side to watch is friend. “As lovely as the thought of having my way with you might be, I would not do that to you. I’m sure I’ve complicated things enough as they are.” There was no sense in wondering about what might have been, what could have been, what could be, Lucas thought, instead contenting himself with a friendship that was worth more than any romantic relationship he might have had in the past. “But I’m here. Even if it’s just to have a drink with, I’m here, and not going anywhere for the near future.”

“How have you complicated things?” Eli asked, trustingly, and he followed it up with a drunken smile that was entirely genuine. “I’m glad you’ve come,” he said. “I miss rambling on about old, abandoned places and having someone who lets me prattle on about my depressing photographs.”

Lucas passed the question by, instead taking the moment to give Eli’s hair a ruffle of his own, affectionate. “I’m glad I came as well,” he said easily. “It’s good to be around someone whom I know, who knew me before life became so complicated and strange.” Chuckling softly, Lucas pulled his hand back, albeit a bit reluctantly.

“Tell me of this strangeness,” Eli said, closing his eyes against the world, fingers tracing the rim of the amber glass sightlessly. A ball bounced across the floor, and he sighed. “I’ve told you my tale. What of yours?” he asked, because he was not drunk enough not to realize Lucas was evading him about absolutely everything. He was letting it go, certainly, but he noticed. Eli was, at heart, an explorer, and explorers noticed things, even if they let them be.

“The whole sordid tale, or just the abridged version?” He had already spoken to Preston about some of this, and it was wholly unfair to hide anything from Eli. “I..” Lucas paused, looking down towards the tabletop, unsure of how to proceed. “It’s not a happy story, Eli. And I don’t want one of my best friends to look at me differently because of it. I had little choice in the matter, you see.”

Eli just turned his head toward his friend, not moving from his comfortable slouch, and he smiled reassuringly. “Do, just tell me Lucas. You know better than to think I’d look at you differently, even if I disapproved. We’ve spent too many days with no one else for company but each other for that. Now, I’m listening. Talk.”

For a long while, Lucas said nothing, instead reaching for the bottle of whiskey to give himself another measure, swallowing that before before he dared to speak another word. “Uhm... I crossed over a few years after you left. Spent some time in London, Baltimore. And then...” His lips pursed, wondering how to phrase this so as not to draw Eli too far into his world, but without appearing as though he was hiding the truth from his friend. “I was recruited by that special interests group I mentioned. I spent some time with them, still am involved technically.” He rolled the glass between his hands. “I’ve done things, Eli, that I am not proud of. I like to believe that the reasons behind them were good, but I simply did as I was asked; I could not stand to think too hard on what I was doing.” Another measure of whiskey, but he did not drink that immediately. There had been too much talk recently on his past, what he had done, and even he had his limit. Pulling his bag back into his lap, he fussed around for a moment within it before settling back, something curled in his hand.

“It would have been nice, I think, traveling across the states with you, the old buildings, the forgotten places. I would have enjoyed that very much.” He glanced over towards Eli, managing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “What was your favourite place, the most memorable?”

“There is a hotel in Texas I quite like, called The Baker. America is different than the rest of the world, I’ve found. Elsewhere, abandoned places don’t always tell unhappy stories. Castles, Estates, old homes nestled in green places. Here, they lean toward prisons and institutions. There is the occasional amusement park, but those are too modern to take my fancy. I prefer the hotels,” Eli explained.

And, of course, Eli had not forgotten that confession. He was, quite intentionally, attempting to sober (as he had been since he realized becoming drunker would only add to his taking of advantage of someone he very much cared about). “Military?” he asked, because that sounded quite military to him. “Still involved, you say? What do you do, Lucas?” he asked, though he did not sound judging when he asked the question. After all, EIT was nothing but a non-sanctioned military organization without funding, when all was said and done.

That was as close as anyone got to guessing what organization Lucas worked for, he thought, and though he would have preferred to listen to Eli talk of the places he enjoyed, that he had visited, the conversation would inevitably return to this topic. “Close,” he confirmed. “But not quite. You’ve got the general idea, I believe.” Eli’s tone helped the conversation become less frightening, and while he could never say all to his friend, he would be as honest as his position allowed. “Field work, at the moment. Collecting information on certain groups. Good eyes and ears, I suppose, but it’s better than it was before. I’ve got some leeway now, a chance to enjoy myself, and that’s something I’ve needed for a long while.” Fingers rolled something between them and he glanced towards Eli with an uncomplicated smile.

“Information on what groups?” Eli asked. He didn’t sit up, but there was something immediately more attentive about him. Less roll in his shoulders, less relaxation in his breathing. More attention. “Us?” he asked, finally, because it seemed most likely. He watched Lucas’ fingers, tried to make sense of whatever he was rolling between them. Eli had trouble with gray areas, and he suspected he was about to waltz right into one.

“Eli.” The smile faded as he gave a shake of his head, pulling his hands down into his lap, fingers slipping into his pockets. “You don’t want to ask. Please.” Lucas’ voice was guarded, carefully so, and having Eli zero in so quickly on things (even though he hadn’t been as vague as he should have, admittedly) was worrisome.

Eli sat up, the last bits of haze chased away by the turn in conversation. He touched Lucas’ jaw with the back of one knuckle, the light a touch one, intended to draw attention. “I do want to ask,” he assured his friend. “I will not push if you wish me not to, but I prefer we have honesty between us, as we always have done.”

The touch did its job in drawing his attention, and Lucas turned towards him, searching his expression for a very long moment. “I just don’t want to put you in danger, Eli. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened, if something happened to you.” His brows knit down slightly and he wanted to say something, to tell him the entire story, but Lucas was intelligent enough to know that there were ears everywhere.

Eli drew his fingers down between those knit brows, and he sighed. “When you’re ready, then,” he said, sitting back a second later and finishing his glass of wine. He had come to his own conclusions, made his own conjectures as he was wont to do, and he hoped they were the wrong ones. Even still, that didn’t change how he felt about the boy-turned-man at his side. It was an old connection, and that counted for something to Eli. He trusted Lucas, and he would be there whenever Lucas decided to trust him in return.

“I’ve been rather melancholy this evening,” Eli apologized, and he put the glass down on the table. “Very well. Give me your best advice, regarding this Preston debacle I’ve managed to land myself in.” It was an intentional move back to a safer subject for Lucas’ benefit.

Eli’s fingers were warm against his brow, and it took every ounce of his will power to keep his hands to himself, to behave as he ought to. He withdrew his hands from his pockets, fingers pressed for a brief moment against his lips before he took one more sip of whiskey, swallowing the small white pill down hard. The night was hard, the day had been difficult, and he needed every bit of help he could find.

As the topic changed and Eli sat back, Lucas turned towards him, putting his mind towards easier subjects. “It’s quite apparent that you love him, and given that I know only your side of the situation, it’s hard to say. I believe love comes with accepting another’s faults, in taking the pleasant with the bad. Do you believe he loves you?”

Eli was not watching closely enough to catch the transfer of the pill. He was already sitting back, forgetting his concerns about the military in the way only a man who’d had too much to drink could. “I believe he believes he does. I’m not certain if he knows the difference between love and need, Lucas. He doesn’t want to be alone. I give him that. Someone there, someone who loves him, someone who has known him a very long time, someone who knows him - I suspect - as well as anyone does. I’m not certain that is love.”

He thought over Eli’s words for a long while, wondering what he would do in a similar situation, and honestly, Lucas could not think of an easy solution to such a problem. “And, I take it, him feeling this way is not enough for you? Not that I think it would be, but...” He trailed off, hands spinning the glass between his palms once more, some of the tension slipping away. “And what, may I ask, has caused the issue between you this time?” He already knew, and it pained him to know, but this was not the time to say as such.

Eli chuckled, a flat sound. “You know,” he said pointing a finger at Lucas, “that I am the most entirely selfish bastard the world over. Surely, you’ve not forgotten?” he asked, the smile warming a little. “I do not want him to remain with me out of necessity. Nor do I want him turning men down at costume parties out of guilt or obligation. If he wants someone else, then he should have them. And he should not be wasting his time with me.” Eli shook his head. “Is it too much to ask, do you think?”

“No, I do not think it is too much to ask,” Lucas said in agreement, his voice quiet and even. “Have you asked him what he wishes in a relationship? Do either of you know what the other expects? What is wanted? It seems such a stupid question to be asking, but I feel like perhaps there may be some miscommunication. Perhaps he does not realise how you feel, or he knows but he does not understand. It’s one thing to tell a person that a fire is hot and they should not touch. The knowledge is there, but there’s no experience to back it up with. Once burned, it’s...” Lucas trailed off, losing his train of thought. “I... That was a horrible example.”

“If we’ve a communication problem, I’ve no idea how to fix it,” Eli said, an easy smile and a laugh at the horrible example. “And that was quite dreadful, old friend,” he said, clapping a hand on Lucas’ shoulder. “I’ve tried to explain it to him in every way I can, but I don’t think Preston is selfish enough to understand the concept of wanting something for himself. He’s too sacrificing by far, and he goes to anyone who shows him any kindness whatsoever. It makes it difficult to tell if his emotions are true, especially when he cannot tell himself.” And, he said, standing and wincing at a burgeoning bruise on a hip. “He’s been in love with his employer for nearly a decade. Come along. No way you’re heading home this evening. Let me show you abovestairs.”

“And yet you don’t give up on him.” Lucas was faintly jealous of such devotion, but he said nothing of it as he got up to his feet, actually wavering a bit though not from alcohol. Reaching out, he placed a steadying hand on Eli’s shoulder, his eyes closed as he waited for the lightheadedness to pass. “Please tell me that you are not planning on going home in your condition, either,” Lucas said as he opened his eyes, managing a smile.

“I lived here for years. There are beds abovestairs,” Eli said, keeping his voice low. “Julian - he’s a young man who lives here - is asleep, so do keep your voice down.” He stood still, waiting for Lucas to find his balance, but in the end he merely slipped a hand around the other man’s waist and guided him toward the stairs and up. “As far as giving up on him goes, surely you’ve noticed how stubborn I am.” He smiled. “He’ll realize I’m a brilliant catch eventually,” he joked, but there was some truth to it. Eli was not the sort of man to wallow in self-loathing.

The help was appreciated, though he thought he ought to be the one offering the help, not Eli, but there was no arguing about it as they ascended the stairs. “I simply hope you will not have to wait forever, my friend, for him to realise something that others already have.” He kept his voice low, as requested, marveling at the upper floor. “You live here and at Bathos, then? I can see how having two would be nice, when you just want to get away for a bit, or have no desire to make the trip home. I do hope I won’t be an inconvenience.”

“I no longer live here,” Eli clarified, “but I’ve not cleared the furniture from the rooms, and Julian lives here now, when he chooses to stay.” He walked quietly down the hall, and he stopped at the door to the room he used for his own, and he pushed it open. “What is he meant to realize?” he asked, knowing the question was a dangerous one to ask. But he was only human, and he felt the sting of Preston’s actions and rejections, and words could hardly hurt anyone.

Lucas made no immediate move to enter the room, instead giving his friend an open, honest look. “That you are, indeed, a fantastic catch, and he should feel quite proud in having caught your attention.” It was Lucas’ turn to touch, the back of his fingers against Eli’s jaw, hand then settling upon his shoulder. “Time does not stand still here, as it does on the other side. We have our limits, our ends, and no one should spend that time waiting for something that does not come.”

Eli knew there was truth in those words, and he nodded slowly, quietly in the silence of the hall. He touched Lucas’ jaw with his hand, and then he patted his cheek a second later. “Sleep, old friend,” he said, forcing himself not to give into temptation. It would be so easy, he knew, but he would be hurting more than himself, more than Preston. He would be ill using the best friend he’d ever known in search of his own nepenthe; he would not do that, no matter how much drink he had in him. “I’ll make us an English breakfast in the morning.”

“Get some yourself, Eli. You do deserve and need it.” The night ended on a somber note, and while there were things to talk upon, topics to visit, the combination of the alcohol and the xanax saw that Lucas would not be conscious for that this night. “Until morning.” And he gave a nod of his head before slipping into the room, the door closing quietly behind him.


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