Cassius shivered a little, thinking back to the night of missed text messages, culminating in him being hospitalized.
Different circumstances, different details, but it was unnerving nonetheless. Setting it all aside, he headed for the elevators, figuring he’d meet Adrian and Tyrone downstairs. As he approached the bay, he spotted Simon furiously typing into his phone.
“Hey, Simon! How’s it going?”
Simon looked up at him with cold, dead eyes. “Everything is shitty, Cass, thanks for asking.”
Cassius’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Is something wrong? Are you okay?”
“The world is backwards and nothing makes sense any more but aside from that, nothing’s wrong. Jesus, do you even listen to yourself?”
“Okay.” He shook his head, hands raised in mock surrender. “We’ll talk tomorrow, I guess.”
Simon gave him a look as if to say ‘yeah, whatever’, before he suddenly seemed to snap back to reality. He smiled then, big and toothy and fake as hell. “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Listen, I’m having a rough night and I was thinking maybe you could do me a favor?”
Cassius pressed the call button and slowly turned his head to look at Simon. “What is it?”
“Swap rooms with me? I’m stuck with Garry. I can’t stay with him, Cass. I just can’t.”
The look on Simon’s face was priceless. He looked so young, so timid, so small. It was deceptive and cultivated, Cassius knew. It was a look he’d seen Simon use before, usually on Ian, when he wanted something desperately but had been denied. It was pleading, begging, childlike. It was almost adorable. And Cassius could sense that he was falling for it. Was Simon pouting? Shit. “I—”
“Just for the night, Cass? Please?”
“But I’m rooming with Adrian.”
Simon’s lips twisted as he considered the option, then he smiled, brown eyes twinkling deceptively, “I can live with Adrian.”
‘And I can’t live without him,’ Cassius thought, sighing. Adrian would kill him, or at the very least make a passive aggressive tweet about it, and quite frankly Cassius wasn’t sure he could handle that. But could he say no to Simon, when he looked so positively desperate? “I’ll ask him, okay? I’ll text you later and let you know.”
Simon seemed to accept this, nodding eagerly, eyes lighting up before he grabbed Cassius’s shoulders and kissed both of his cheeks. “You’re the best, Cass! I knew I liked you for a reason.”
“Yeah, well. We’ll see.” The elevator arrived to rescue him from Simon’s mood. Cassius stepped inside quickly. “I’ll text you.”
“Don’t forget!” Simon called as the doors shut between them.
Immediately, Cassius forgot.
Chapter 21
Fabian
Fabian’s heart was still racing as he pressed the elevator button to go up to the pool deck. It wasn’t quite midnight, he still had a half an hour to spare, but he’d reached the point where he realized he needed to get out of his hotel room otherwise he’d lose the nerve to go up there at all.
He’d spent hours sitting in silent contemplation, staring at the hideous floral wallpaper, hoping some sort of answer would come to him, but the only answer which came was the laughter track from the television on the other side of the wall. Whoever was in the next room was watching some Azerbaijani sitcom or something at high volume, and it had become very old very quickly. How was he supposed to sort out his complex and contradictory feelings with that sort of soundtrack constantly distracting him?
It just wasn’t fair. How could he have gotten himself into this situation? He’d never meant to lead Daniel on, and he’d never really meant to keep his friendship with him a secret from Simon. He just wasn’t thinking very clearly. Or maybe he was, possibly. Now that he was forced to confront himself he wasn’t quite sure.
In the hotel room, sitting on his bed, he’d come to two conclusions. Firstly, he loved Dan. He was as good a friend as any man could ask for, his best friend, really. He could ask Dan for anything, completely bare his soul to him, hang out, whatever. And the devotion was mutual. He’d drop anything if Dan needed help, he’d totally have his back in a fight, whatever. It wasn’t a hearts and flowers sort of thing, not exactly, but it was the sort of friendship that he needed, and would treasure forever. They were close, so close, that he knew things could change, if he wanted them to change.
So, he loved Dan. He did. Just not like in the way he loved Simon.
That was the second conclusion. Well, not technically. He adored Simon, fawned over him, wanted to live and die in his presence. Was it love? Maybe. It might be. It could definitely become love. What he felt for Simon was more of a burgeoning fascination spurred on by an intense mutual attraction. If nothing else, the tension that had been building between them over the last several years was something close enough to love that Fabian never wanted it to stop. If it wasn’t love, it felt like the next best thing. It was what he wanted. It was what he needed.
Still, he was trembling as the elevator doors opened and he stepped out onto the pool deck. He was alone, thankfully, so no one else would be present to see what a nervous wreck he was as he anxiously paced the deck for the next thirty minutes, literally wringing his hands.
At 12:02 the elevator doors finally sprung open again and Fabian found himself face to face with Simon. He looked just as gorgeous as he ever had, staring across the deck at him with those wide brown eyes. Fabian felt his heart skip a beat, and before he could stop himself he was walking toward him.
“Si,” he said, smiling. He couldn’t help but smile around Simon.
For his part, Simon smiled too, even if he looked a little uneasy. He was trying to hide it, Fabian could tell, and that made him feel nervous too, as if Simon was mad at him. “I didn’t mean to be late. Stupid elevator.”
“It’s fine,” Fabian insisted, watching him, waiting for a cue. Simon just stood there, immobile. Their eyes met, and for a moment Fabian wanted to shrink away and hide. There was something in Simon’s eyes which made him feel nervous. He’d never felt that way with Simon before, never felt afraid. And here he was, face to face, alone with the one person on the planet he felt most comfortable with and he was suddenly overcome with panic. Fabian’s breathing quickened, expression fading a little.
Simon took note, apparently, because his own expression changed to one of concern as he sighed and reached out to slap a hand on Fabian’s shoulder. It was reassuring, or was meant to be anyway. “Aw, come on, Fabian. Don’t be like this. You knew I wasn’t ever gonna stand you up.”
They locked eyes again, and whatever oddity had been there before was now gone. Fabian allowed himself to relax, smile even, as he melted slightly under the heat of Simon’s touch. “I’m sorry, I just…”
“Come on. We need to talk. Let’s sit by the pool,” Simon said, arm slung fully around Fabian’s shoulders as he guided them toward the tranquil blue water. Somehow, without Fabian realizing how it had happened, they both were sitting with their feet dangling over the edge, up to the ankles in the water.
They sat side by side for a few minutes, neither one speaking at first, both staring at the ripples and waves. Despite the quiet, it was hardly calm. Fabian could feel the tension building between them again, and it wasn’t the pleasant kind that he’d come to enjoy. It was something else completely, a sort of nervous, scared, concerned tension. A tension of what could be might never be. The silence was excruciating. Fabian would rather have Simon visibly and audibly mad at him than to have this odd variety of silent treatment.
He had to say something. He had to explain himself. He needed to come clean about Dan, explain that yes, they were friends, and yes, they were close, but he’d made up his mind. He wanted Simon, or at least the chance to see if the emotional tension, pulled taut for years, could develop into something more meaningful than a drunken make-out session or a one night stand.
He had to explain, that while Dan’s friendship was one of the most mea
ningful relationships he’d ever had, if he had to choose, right then and there, in that moment, he’d pick Simon. Maybe it wouldn’t work out. Maybe he was being stupid, but dammit, he was in love, or something like it. And he was about to say as much when Simon turned to him, reached out, and shoved him into the pool.
The splash which accompanied Fabian’s cry was especially impressive. When he finally resurfaced for air, he was met with the sounds of Simon’s guffawing laughter. He sputtered, flailing as he gasped for sweet oxygen. “Simon! What the hell?”
“Oh, relax, Fabian!” Simon managed between snorts.
“What the hell was that for?” He shook his head, chlorine water dripping down his face. He was practically vibrating, betrayed by Simon, who sat on the ledge above him cackling. “Oh fuck, my phone!”
“Relax,” Simon snickered. “I snuck it out of your pocket first.” Instinctively, Fabian reached for his pocket to feel. Indeed, there was no phone, and when he looked back at Simon, the man had it in hand. “Don’t ask me how I did it. It’s a secret.”
“Why did you do this?” Fabian demanded, swimming toward Simon, cheeks burning pink, the color intensified by the blue-green of the water.
Simon stared back at him, having finally settled down again, feet moving in little circles in the pool. “Because you deserved it.”
“What?” He couldn’t believe his ears. Surely he’d misheard. “What did I do to deserve pushing me into the pool and ruining my clothes. And probably my hair too, by the way. I didn’t do anything.”
“What about Daniel?” Simon said flatly, eyes narrowing a little. “What about your boyfriend back home, Fabian? Were you ever gonna tell me about him? Huh?”
“Stop it. He’s not my boyfriend.”
“It’s not what Tyrone said.”
“Tyrone didn’t say he was my boyfriend.”
“Well he didn’t not say it.”
“But he didn’t say that. You inferred it. It’s not the same thing.”
“Tyrone implies things. That’s his thing. He does it all the time. If anyone should be used to it, it’s you, Fabian.”
“Tyrone is also super ambiguous and he’s not going to correct you if you jump to the wrong conclusions. Besides, he was just trying to force me to re-evaluate my life and my choices and pissing you off just happens to be a sure fire way to get me to do that. Simon.”
“Okay, whatever, fine. Tell me about Daniel. Who is he? What is he to you?”
Fabian paused, stilled in the water, eyes locked with Simon’s. For the first time all night, he truly recognized the look in his eyes. Hurt. Pain. A big piece of jealousy. Suddenly, he felt like garbage. He’d spent the entire evening thinking about himself. He’d barely even spared a thought to how Simon must feel.
For years they’d been in this prolonged cat-and-mouse teasing, with an unspoken yet very sincere promise of somehow, someday. Simon had seen it all thrown in his face, hadn’t he? After years of fawning over his Fabian, he’d been slapped with the possibility that it was over, that it had meant nothing. And there was Fabian, so caught up in his own failings that he hadn’t even considered how Simon might feel at all. It was like a punch to the gut, like the wind had been knocked out of him.
“Si, I—”
“Don’t try to distract me.” Simon’s voice was louder then, echoing off the tiled walls of the room. He didn’t sound angry. He almost sounded scared. Fabian felt his soul sinking. “Fabian. Just answer me. What is he to you? Not your boyfriend, okay. Your lover? What? I’m not mad, I promise, I swear.”
“He’s not any of those things,” Fabian said quickly, quietly, water lapping up around his shoulders. “He’s my friend. My best friend. Besides you, he’s my best friend. And Si, I…” He trailed off, because Simon wasn’t looking at him anymore. He realized then, how hollow his words sounded. He was like some televangelist caught embezzling with his mistress, made to apologize. He sounded guilty.
“I’ll tell you everything. Whatever you want to know,” Fabian added, taking a step toward him.
Simon finally looked back to him, his expression having changed into something a little colder. It was unlike him, and Fabian was once again put off. “Why didn’t you tell me about him? I never even knew you guys were friends.”
He didn’t have a good enough answer for that, he knew. It made sense in his head at the time, but now it just seemed like a serious mistake. Fabian looked like a scolded puppy. “I didn’t want you to be jealous.”
Simon let out a howl of a laugh. “That’s rich! Me? Jealous of Dan? Please, Fabian. You’re not serious.” Simon’s eyes were burning, blazing, and Fabian swore he could feel the heat. It made him want to slip under the water and hide away. But he couldn’t do that. He’d have to resurface eventually and deal with the fall out. He had made his bed, now he’d have to sleep in it.
“I’m sorry.” The water lapped up around his shoulders and he looked up to Simon pleadingly. “I didn’t mean to…I didn’t think that you…” He didn’t know what else to say. All he knew for sure was that he’d royally fucked up.
For his part, Simon just looked back. And he looked hurt, more exposed and wounded than Fabian had seen him in a long time. He wasn’t one who generally tempered his emotions, but at the same time, Simon was smart enough not to leave himself hanging out to dry. He smiled the widest. He laughed the loudest. He also yelled the loudest. He did everything with extra enthusiasm and extra volume.
When he hurt, he didn’t let it show. He’d laugh it off, dance it off, whatever. He didn’t crumble though. Seeing him now, dejected, diminished, shook Fabian to his core. He’d fucked up, beyond the royal level.
“That’s the thing, you know,” Simon said, his voice cutting through the silence. “That’s just it, Fabian.”
Fabian shrank a little but stayed silent, waiting for the lashing which was sure to come. He deserved it, whatever it was.
“Were you trying to make me jealous?”
“I wasn’t. I didn’t think you—”
“Yeah, I know. You didn’t think about me. You didn’t think about my feelings. Not once. Not even a little. After all this time, I didn’t factor in at all.”
Simon started to stand up, pushing up from the ledge. Fabian felt his stomach lurch as he lunged through the water to chase after him, reaching out to Simon as he picked himself up. “Wait! Stop! Wait, please Simon!”
Simon paused, standing tall, brown eyes cool as he gazed down at him. “I’m tired of this. I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of stopping. I’m tired of being a toy. You’ve flirted with me for years, Fabian. Years. And it’s always a maybe. It’s always some other time. It’s always going to be never, isn’t it? Well, I’m sick of it. I’m done.”
It was true. They’d always skirted around, teased, hinted, never truly acted on the obvious pull between them. It had always been part of the allure, for Fabian anyway, knowing that no matter what happened, the magnetic draw between him and Simon would be his constant. He never kidded himself, he knew there’d be others for both of them, but whenever they were together, the world would melt away and it would be only them, just the two of them in a state of adoration and flirtation and bliss. Going beyond that would mean putting their comfortable tension on the line, risking the known for the sake of the unknown.
He’d wanted to go further, wanted to know what it would be like to love Simon for real and not just in his head, but it would mean the possibility of things misaligning with how he’d imagined them. It was scary to think about, especially after having spent years building it up. However, no matter how they tempted or played with each other, Fabian had never thought of Simon as his toy. Simon was more than that. Simon was a sun. No, Simon was a goddamn supernova.
As Simon turned away, Fabian finally found his voice again. “Simon. It’s not never. It’s not maybe. It’s always and it’s never stopped being always, not once, not even for a second. Don’t you know that?”
Simon glanced back at him, watching o
ver his shoulder as Fabian hoisted himself out of the water, dripping everywhere as he waddled across the deck to catch him.
“I messed up, okay? I should’ve told you about Dan. I should’ve told you about a lot of things. You’re my best friend and I was an idiot and I wasn’t trying to make you jealous, I was trying to not make you jealous and I’m an idiot. Officially. For the record.” Fabian stood where he was, mere feet from Simon, sopping and looking generally pitiful. “I just…it’s always been you, Simon. Always. How could there be anyone else?”
A slow, smug little smile spread across Simon’s lips, and Fabian realized instantly that all was forgiven. Almost. “You say that, Fabian, and yet you’ve never even kissed me.”
“I’ve never kissed you sober,” Fabian corrected him, feeling his cheeks flush slightly.
“We can fix that, you know.”
* * *
It was just after 3 three o’clock when Garry finally heard the door open. He stayed still and tried to block out the noise of shuffling and moving around until the strange squishing sound which accompanied the footsteps finally got the better of him. He sat up and flicked on the lamp. “What’s going on?”
And there, from across the room, stood Simon, dripping wet with a towel wrapped around his waist and his soaked clothes tossed over his shoulders, wet sneakers the culprits of the annoyingly loud squishing sounds. Simon cocked an eyebrow at him, giving a mild shrug. “Go back to sleep.”
“What the fuck happened to you?”
“I went swimming.”
“In your clothes?”
“Only at first.”
“Jesus.”
“Good night, Garry.”
“Fuck.”
“Sweet dreams, Garry.”
“Ugh.”
“Do you want the details? Because I’ll tell you the details.”
Howl At The Moon: MM Shifter Romance Page 15