tomás keller is trying to find his footing (cyclonics) wrote in superbabies, @ 2013-04-21 00:17:00 |
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When he pulled the car off to the side of the road, Tomás had honestly meant to just keep the conversation going with Henry. Not that it was actually a conversation. Ever since leaving the airport parking lot, the talking between them had grown increasingly both in volume and intensity. It reached its pinnacle somewhere on the back roads of upstate New York, which was when the SUV was violently jerked off to the side of the road. Words turned into yelling and then into arguing. Then there was kissing. And touching. Then a final frantic attempt toward the back of the car where the seats folded down with ease and the things tucked away in one of the suitcases was readily accessible. Once it was over, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the dark interior of his car. Tomás didn’t say a word as he folded his onto his stomach, his fingers brushing against the expensive fabric of the shirt he hadn't bothered to remove. Something told him this wasn’t the best way to handle their current situation. Nothing had been been resolved. Well. At least nothing concerning their current predicament. Henry was on his stomach, face turned to watch Tomás’ expression. Sometimes it told more than words did. Their arguing had left a sour taste in his mouth which he hated; it made him feel like a terrible person for yelling at him. Absolutely rotten. Now he felt a little better. The pheromones in sex did that. Slapped a temporary passionate bandage on everything and let you work out your aggressions with nips and tugs, bites and sucks. Instead of yelling at Tomás he could redirect it to biting his shoulder, the sinewy trapezius. Tomás tasted like Belize still. He needed a shower. They both needed a shower now. The Lexus smelled like sex. Cautiously Henry reached out and touched his boyfriend’s belly, fingers dragging along the tan muscle. “Hey. You with me?” he whispered, wondering where his head was at. When the fingers reached him, his stomach muscles tightened for a moment before relaxing under Henry’s touch. His anger was gone, at least for the moment, and without much thought he reached out his own hand to awkwardly run it through the other man’s hair a few times. “Yeah. I am,” he answered with a small laugh. “I was just thinking how this would be really awkward to explain to a cop.” “Easy. We were working out tension.” Henry wasn’t going to lie to a cop but he also didn’t want to get caught stark naked, either. There weren’t any blankets readily available that he remembered so he let the idea go. Fingers still touching, they danced around and played out a tune in his head. Something slow. “I have an appointment to see Emmett in a few days.“ This wasn’t information he had shared yet, biting it back each time he tried to say it. Somehow it came out normally now. “Ian figured it would be better.” “I’m sure he’s heard every excuse in the book,” he murmured as he let the thought drop from his mind. Given all the miles of back roads in the county, it was highly unlikely that a cop would happen to pass by them let alone. Though if one did, thank goodness for tinted windows. “That’s good. I guess it would be kinda odd if we both talked to Ian about things.” “Mm.” There was also that Ian counted Henry as a friend---and of course, Henry counted Ian as a friend, too---that blurred the professional lines. Emmett wasn’t as close. “There’s a few things, yeah.” Henry paused, listening for a moment to the two of them breathe. It was relaxing and reassuring. “He offered mediation.” Ian was Henry’s friend and Tomás’ therapist. To say that blurred professional lines was probably a bit of an understatement. Not that he would have had any choice in the matter, but it also would have made him feel uncomfortable to know Ian was privy to that many details about his relationship with Henry. “No. Fuck no,” he blurted out almost immediately after Henry finished the word. “I don’t care what they call it. Not doing fucking couple therapy.” "I know," he picked his words carefully, "and I wouldn't put you through someone we can work out together." Henry had faith in people if they were willing. He squeezed Tomás' hip and gave a little tug on his side. "We just have to figure out what we want." "Seriously. If we need help with shit like that now, we..." Tomás wasn't even going to finish his thoughts on that subject. In his mind, if they needed that kind of help now the relationship was already doomed. It wouldn't be worth trying in his mind. "I know what I want." Stomach suddenly knotting, Henry swallowed and asked: "And what's that?" A thousand fears of not being wanted suddenly flooded his mind. "I want you to not have to question me being with you." Henry collapsed a little, his hand went limp against Tomas. It was like someone kicked the air out of him. "It's not about that," he said, "I worry everyone will leave me." "Including me. Which actually really fucking hurts to hear," Tomás answered as he tried not to let his voice raise. "I think I have proven I'm not going to go and do that all random and shit." "I know," it pained him to hear Tomás say that. The last thing he wanted was to strain them. But Henry couldn't help what his brain tried to tell him. The nonsensical stuff. "I know, shhh, don't yell. I know. I'm... I'm afraid that when you go to UCLA you won't have time for me anymore." "Of course it's going to be hard and shit. I'm moving across the country." Didn't take a relationship expert to know that. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to start ignoring you and crap. I mean, I chose to be with you. Just because I'm not around you doesn't ... I don't know." "Yeah," he nodded, face rubbing against the rough backside of the seat. He got it. Just because they weren't side by side all the time wouldn't mean that the love would change. "It's just going to be really hard. I'm trying to work with Ellie to help out as her junior leader. It's what I want to do." Tomás couldn’t promise that they would stay together forever once he left for college, but he was definitely going to try with everything he could. High school romances rarely panned out to anything long term, though he was going to try despite evidence in his life telling him it wasn’t worth it. “You’re going to be pretty busy yourself then.” “Not for you, though,” he mumbled, scooting a little closer to absorb Tomás’ warm, to press himself against him. “I’ll always make time for you, no matter what,” but, and he couldn’t bring himself to say it, but he worried that with a more active life, it would be harder to maintain such a distance. “You know that.” “I do know that. That’s not the part that is worrying me though.” After a moment of hesitation, Tomás rolled his head along the leather seats and looked at Henry. “If I tell you something, can you at least try not to get too mad at it?” A slight, hesitant nod. “Yeah, I can.” “Honestly? I’ve never been a fan of the whole monogamy thing. And honestly, I could probably do that whole open relationship thing really well.” He paused a moment wondering if he had phrased that right. “But I chose to be with you, okay? I chose to not screw around with other people for you. I chose to have a relationship with just you. And when you go around saying things like you did, it makes me feel like you don’t understand that.” Henry knew he didn’t want an open relationship. As an only child he wasn’t the best for sharing his toys, his people, and he was fiercely protective of what was his. It was hard for him to understand why people wanted to be with him; as he saw it, he wasn’t exactly worthy of attention sometimes. He was crass and said the wrong things at the wrong times and wasn’t so great at expressing emotions or saying what he really meant. And a lot of the time, he still didn’t believe people wanted to be with him. So even though he knew Tomás said he did, the tiny voice in the back of his mind said it was untrue. Taking a deep breath, he spoke with a rocky voice: “I’m trying, it’s hard. I’ve spent a lot of time being rejected---and I know, we had our rocky times and that didn’t help because I was in a bad place as a teenager---but. I feel... threatened, I guess, at losing you.” “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who rejected me,” he shot back without even thinking that saying such a thing would help the conversation. Looking back at it now, Tomás could recognize that it had been for the best. “Look. I don’t know what the future holds and shit like that. I don’t really want to know. But I do know I have no plans of going anywhere with anyone else right now.” Henry flinched; that stung, especially right now. “Okay,” he agreed. Pressing his nose against Tomas’ arm, he inhaled deeply. He wasn’t going to be left, he reminded himself, he was going to be fine. Things would be fine. Even if he was still apprehensive and worried and afraid and all those other negative thoughts. “Okay. I can work with that.” “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” Shifting his body slightly, he managed to snake his arm around Henry’s shoulders and have it a squeeze. “Okay. I -- “ He paused. “Just please remember all that, okay?” Another nod. The vehicle rocked as Henry moved to straddle Tomás. He was even warmer against bare skin. Their body shapes were so drastically different: one, long and lean and tan. The other: short and square and pale. Henry’s hands played up under Tomás’ shirt, finger tips grazing across soft flesh, across the shallow valley of his stomach. This was communication Henry was good at. Physical expression wasn’t difficult. Touching displayed more than words for him. Leaning down, he paused a breath away from Tomás’ face, a creased look of worry in his brow. He wanted to ask him not to leave him---but he couldn’t, he couldn’t say that. Instead: “You promise?” When Henry leaned in toward him, Tomás raised his hand and placed it on the back of his neck with the intention of pulling him into a kiss. The other man’s request made him pause and for a few moments, he just stared up at him as he thought of how to reply to the request. Tomás knew he couldn’t promise that; he never promised anything. Years of having some many of them broken by his parents made sure of that. But it was what Henry wanted and what he needed. “I promise,” he lied with a voice that was properly convincing. Even if that little voice told him it was a lie, Henry grinned and crushed his lips against his boyfriend’s. For now, this would work. For now, he would be content. Some time later, when sweaty bodies pulled apart again, Henry pushed Tomás’ hair off his forehead and kissed the side of his mouth. “Let’s go home.” |