*~*~*
"So what do you say?" Zyan asked.
Carter blinked up at him. "To what?"
Zyan rolled his eyes. "Will you adopt a hamster with me?"
A smile spread across Carter's face. "Of course!"
He sat up, forcing Zyan to drop the hand previously entangled in Carter's hair. He felt the loss of warmth, but since Carter remained in his personal space, Zyan could've barely gotten closer. Their knees were touching. Carter radiated body heat. Zyan found it hard to focus on much else.
"What kind should we get?"
Zyan frowned. Did Carter not get what he was saying here? "Slow down a second," he said. "You do realize what this offer entails, right?"
Carter rolled his eyes. "This won't end the same way it did with Sheldon, I promise."
"I'm not talking about cleaning the cage," Zyan said, frustrated. "I'm asking you to move in with me."
Carter paused. He looked caught off-guard—downright shocked.
Zyan bit his lip. Shit.
Carter's shock turned to confusion. "Wait."
"Um," Zyan made. "I—uh…"
"No, no," Carter said. "Wait." He held up his hands. "I already moved in months ago, Zyan."
"What?"
Carter laughed, a little breathless. "I started moving in my stuff about four months ago, when I decided to let my lease run out. I hadn't spent a night there in months, and continuing to pay rent for it felt like a waste. I'm pretty sure they already sold the place to somebody else."
"And you just didn't tell me?" Zyan called out.
"I was scared you'd say no!"
"So, you just didn't bother to ask me at all," Zyan replied sarcastically.
"Pretty much, yeah."
Zyan huffed and crossed his arms.
"I thought you'd notice," Carter defended himself. "And since you just asked me to move in anyway, I guess it doesn't matter."
"Un-fucking-believable," Zyan muttered.
"Did you just curse?"
"Did you just tell me you moved in without asking?" Zyan shot back.
"Yeah, I thought we established that."
Zyan groaned in frustration. The silence that followed felt tense, but he wasn't sure what else to say. He wasn't even sure what he was feeling. Was he angry? Maybe. A bit. But mostly at himself, for not broaching the subject sooner, or making Carter feel like he could do it first. Zyan had thought they were on the same page this time. Apparently, he was wrong.
"Do you want me to move out?" Carter asked, voice unsure. Zyan couldn't even remember the last time he'd heard Carter sound like that.
"Of course not." Zyan sighed. He slid down the cushions and leaned further into Carter. His gaze was focused on nothing as he stared ahead and let the situation sink in. Carter's shoulder dug into his temple.
"I'm sorry," Carter said after several moments had passed.
"You should be." There was no heat behind Zyan's words. "I thought you couldn't surprise me like this anymore, but your impulsiveness knows no bounds."
"I wanted to ask, I swear, but there was never a right time and you never said anything, either…"
Zyan leaned back to look at Carter. "Next time an idea strikes your fancy, you better talk to me."
Carter held up his palm. "I swear."
"Good." Zyan nodded to himself until a thought hit him. "Wait."
"What?"
"Does Jessica know about this? Does Ava?"
"Uh…"
"Oh my god! What is wrong with you people?"
"Don't be mad at them! I'm sure Jess thought you knew! And I'm not even sure Ava knows at all."
Zyan shook his head. "I can't believe you sometimes. You're so damn lucky I love you."
"Aw, I love you too."
Zyan narrowed his eyes.
"There'll come a time where we can laugh about this?" Carter made it sound like a hesitant suggestion.
"Yeah, but until we get there, you're doing the laundry and the vacuuming."
"That's fair."
"And now, come here, so I can kiss your dumb face."
Carter's gleeful smile was bright. Zyan didn't even try to suppress his own. With his hand on the nape of Carter's neck, he pulled Carter in. Carter didn't hesitate to tug Zyan closer with a hand on his waist.
"I want lasagna for dinner," Zyan said when he finally pulled back.
Carter hummed and used the hand entangled in Zyan's hair to close the gap between their lips again. Zyan was happy to oblige.
When breathing became their top priority, Carter pulled back after one last peck. Their foreheads touched as they panted. "Can I order in?" Carter asked, his voice raspy.
"Hm, no." Zyan kissed the corner of his mouth. "Now get cooking, good-looking."
Carter's thumbs traced circles against Zyan's sides. "So demanding."
"Only when I'm hungry."
"Debatable."
"Don't push your luck. You're still walking on thin ice for that stunt you pulled."
Carter stole another kiss. "Apologies."
"If you get started on that lasagna now, I may just forgive you."
"I better take you up on that offer, then." Carter pecked him one last time before he pulled back completely and got up.
Zyan felt warm and dazed as his gaze followed him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Jessica
When Jessica got back from work that day, she found Ava balanced on her tiptoes on a bar stool in the middle of the living room. Jessica was silent as Ava worked, so she wouldn't startle her.
"How was your day, honey?" Ava called over her shoulder as she pinned down the final part of the second banner. The noise of Jessica unlocking the door must've alerted Ava to her presence.
"That weird guy was back, and told me all about his brother's vasectomy. How was yours?"
Ava laughed as she descended back to solid ground and turned to face Jessica. "How'd you guys get on the topic of vasectomies?"
"I don't even know, but I really wish you'd been there. It was bizarre."
"You asked for the afternoon shift," Ava reminded her as she came closer and kissed Jessica hello. "And my day was good. I even did the grocery shopping. You can thank me later."
Jessica smiled and leaned back in for another peck before she looked up at Ava's banners.
Congratulations! You Just Moved In!
Congratulations! You Realized He Already Moved in Months Ago!
The latter had two extending papers of varying colors glued onto the right to fit all the words, but the last three were still squeezed tightly together.
"You think the boys will appreciate it?" Ava asked.
"Carter will. Zyan? Probably not so much."
Ava nodded to herself. "Great."
An hour later, they were all gathered in the living room. Where Ava and Jessica had bought alcohol for themselves, Carter and Zyan provided the food. They'd started out standing and talking, but within five minutes, they ended up on the couch, watching some movie Jessica had found while channel surfing.
She was already pleasantly buzzed and feeling content with Ava tugged against her side and Carter pressed against her other. The warmth they provided was nice, especially to her fuzzy mind.
"I hate these sorts of movies." Zyan's voice quiet enough that Jessica could barely hear the comment.
"Why?" she asked.
"If you'd lived as long as us, you'd understand," Carter answered in Zyan's place.
She looked back at the screen. It was dark, and everyone was shouting as the bullets hailed down and distant explosions cut over the noise. The men in camouflage were gesturing wildly as they moved forward one by one. Some of them reached the next cover safely; others were pierced by bullets and died on the spot.
"Movies tend to glorify war," Zyan said. "But there's no sense in it, no glory. In war, nobody wins. Everyone who comes out alive has lost something. Whether it be friends, their innocence, their sanity, or an actual physical part of their body. It's just death, lives
lost at the command of a more powerful person, who doesn't want to fight their own battles. The people on both sides are innocent. They're all carrying out orders—supposedly killing for a higher purpose, but it's senseless killing. It's about money and resources and power. They aren't doing it for survival or out of necessity—at least not both sides. Hundreds, thousands, millions of lost lives, and what for? Aren't those lives worth more than what they're being sacrificed for?"
Carter had grown tenser next to her, either because of Zyan's harsh words or because of the memories that had to have resurfaced. "There are entire countries that live off warfare. They finance themselves by sending their people off to battles that aren't theirs to fight. They don't even put their lives on the line for their own country, but for somebody else's. Entire wars are being fought right now that carry no purpose besides earning money for the people providing the weapons. Innocent people are laying down their lives for the sake of somebody else's pointless crusade."
Jessica lowered her eyes. The pleasant buzz had disappeared as the words sobered her. Of course she'd been aware of the situation, but she tried not to think about it too much; there was already enough pointless violence in the news and on the internet to numb her for the rest of her life. But hearing about it and having experienced it were two very different things. And these two men next to her had lived it.
A heavy silenced settled over the four of them for about two minutes.
"We could watch Lilo & Stitch again," Ava offered.
"I'd prefer that," Zyan replied after a few more seconds of silence.
Ava nodded and untangled herself from Jessica to get up.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Zyan
Zyan wasn't sure what had woken him, until he turned to look at Carter. His eyes were rapidly moving behind closed lids as drops of sweat ran down his temples and lined his brow. His breathing was unhealthily arrhythmic.
Zyan hurried to grab his shoulder and shake him. Carter's eyes flew open, but his breathing remained heavy as his gaze flicked around the room, until it landed on Zyan's face.
"You had a nightmare," Zyan said, voice quiet in the dark room.
Carter nodded a little and kicked off the covers, while Zyan helped him by pulling the bedspread over to his half.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Carter pushed his hair up and away from his sweaty forehead. "Old memories," was all he gave as an explanation.
Zyan crossed his legs as his brain brought back images of a time he'd rather forget. He knew sleep wouldn't be on either of their minds for a while.
Carter sighed. "What is it?"
Zyan felt guilty. He avoided Carter's gaze, though he could barely make his eyes out in the strips of silver moonlight pushing through the blinds. "Was it…you know…the time when…"
Carter reached out and grabbed hold of Zyan's wrist. Zyan barely managed to look at the hand before it had tugged him back down and into Carter's side. "It doesn't matter anymore," Carter said quietly. "I forgave you a long time ago."
"You nearly died," Zyan said in a low voice. "It would have been my fault."
"You wanted to help. You felt a compulsion. I couldn't have lived with myself if I'd let you go alone. It was my decision."
Zyan was too tired to argue. It was an old argument, already revisited too many times to count. Carter had forgiven him decades ago, but Zyan would never forget, and he'd never forgive himself. The guilt would never stop. Still, he gave a curt nod, if only to satisfy Carter.
He was pulled closer. A cold hand found its way onto the bare skin of his back before it started drawing invisible patterns. Zyan felt himself melt into the touch.
"Tell me something." Carter's voice was close. Zyan could feel the breath brush through his hair. "I could use a distraction."
Zyan was silent as he tried to think of anything that wasn't related to what they were trying to avoid. But he'd practically pushed Carter to risk his life just because he himself had felt guilty—how could he not think about that? He cleared his throat and squeezed his eyes shut. He needed to think of anything, anything that wasn't this. "After our last divorce, I joined a gym," he offered finally, saying the first thing that popped into his head.
Carter's movements didn't falter, despite the surprise in his voice. "Really?"
Zyan nodded against Carter's shoulder. "Yes. But I soon realized I was one of those people that only go there and do a few exercises until they don't feel too guilty leaving again. I canceled the membership again after two months."
Carter's laughter was low, and rough with fatigue. "Oh, wow, that's beautiful."
Normally, Zyan would have lightly punched Carter at the teasing tone in his voice, but right now, he was just glad they were both still here, together and healthy.
"Any other stories you'd like to share?" Carter asked playfully.
Zyan hummed a little while he dug through his memories. "I can't think of anything right now."
Carter was quiet after that. Zyan would have assumed he'd fallen asleep if it weren't for the continuing soft touches against his skin.
"Can I ask you something?" Carter asked finally.
"Sure."
"Why did you take me back?"
Zyan tensed. He suddenly felt more awake.
Carter must have felt the movement under his fingertips, because his hand flattened against Zyan's back. "You don't have to answer," he added quickly.
Zyan shook his head and forced himself to relax again. "It's okay," he reassured him. There was no point in hiding it any longer. He'd known the question would come eventually, and he had expected it a lot sooner. But, well, with their age, two years felt about as long as two weeks to mortals.
Carter slowly picked his pattern-tracing back up.
"Do you remember…" Zyan started but trailed off, taking a deep breath. "The first time we got married…" He paused. "The first time we got married, you wrote me this letter and…you gave it to me after the ceremony."
"'For the day you stop loving me.'" Carter recalled the words written on the envelope.
Zyan nodded again. "I remember, at the time, I thought it was impossible. Ridiculous, even. But you told me—"
"'Just keep it for me. Please.'"
"Yes."
"What did I write?"
"You don't remember?"
Carter shook his head. "How could I? It's been centuries."
"I suppose…"
When Zyan didn't say anything for a few seconds, thinking about where to start and what to say—if he should retell what he remembered reading or just give a general outline—Carter jerked his shoulder, as if he were worried Zyan had fallen asleep. "So? What did I write?"
Zyan flattened his hand over Carter's heart. "Nothing groundbreaking, don't worry."
"Well, it must have been enough for you to change your mind," Carter argued.
"Not really," Zyan replied, sounding casual. "It just reminded me of the people we used to be. Specifically, our sex life and how hot I used to think you were."
"Excuse me? What do you mean 'used to' and 'were?'"
Zyan rolled his eyes, glad that Carter couldn't see how fond he was. "You're so easily distracted."
Carter repeatedly jerked his shoulder again. "Just tell me what I put in that damn letter!"
Zyan reached up and put his hand over Carter's mouth. "Shush, Ava and Jessica are sleeping next door."
"Then jus' tell me," Carter replied, voice muffled by Zyan's hand.
Zyan put his hand back on Carter's chest. "I will." He paused. "One day."
"Oh, come on!"
Zyan clapped his hand back over Carter's mouth. "Hush!" He shot Carter a pointed look, and was met with narrowed eyes. Still, he lifted his hand.
Carter glared at him until Zyan had lay back down. The silence stretched out until Carter grumbled something unintelligible to himself and curled closer to Zyan, despite his obvious pouting. Zyan suppressed a smile and tugged Carter closer.
Eventua
lly, they both drifted off again.
No more nightmares plagued Carter that night.
*~*~*
"I'm just saying," Zyan said. "She didn't set a dress code, so technically, we could go in sweatpants."
Carter slapped Zyan's hands away to fix the black-and-gray tie for him. "Stop complaining already. It's only a few hours. We'll just show up, give them the gift I bought them, and wish them the best. And if I have any say in it, we'll also squeeze in some half-assed dancing."
Since Zyan couldn't currently cross his arms in front of his chest, he settled for putting his hands on his hips and looking grumpy. "I already feel like I'm suffocating," he complained.
Carter flattened his hand over the tie and looked up at Zyan with a raised eyebrow. "You didn't even do up the first button."
"The tie is crushing my windpipe," Zyan argued.
Carter rolled his eyes and loosened the knot a little further before he patted Zyan on the chest and took a step back. "Do it for Carol."
Zyan huffed a breath and shrugged on the suit jacket Carter was holding out for him.
"Now put on your shoes and move your butt to the door. You still have to help me do the girls' hair."
Zyan muttered grumpily while he tied his shoes. "When did I get put on hair duty?"
"When you became the master of fish-braiding," Carter replied.
"You're lucky I love you."
"Aw, I love you too."
"Don't let it get to your head."
"Too late!"
Two hours later, Zyan was sitting at their table while everybody else was off hitting the dance floor. The wedding had been all right—lots of crying and sniffing, followed by amazing food and halfway decent music. Carol looked gorgeous in her white-and-blue dress, and Zyan had heard her mother breathe a sigh of relief in front of him when Carol's make-up had remained smudge-free throughout the exchange of vows.
The only thing Zyan could do without was the amount of wedding guests. There were at least two hundred people crammed into the venue, and he doubted they were all family, but since both he and Carter were invited, Zyan shouldn't have expected anything less. Carol was Ava and Jessica's employee-turned-friend, so Zyan and she had met every other week throughout the three years they'd known each other. Yet they'd never gone beyond shallow small talk and movie commentary, which was the reason for his surprise when he and Carter had received an invitation.
The Thing About Forever Page 25