Haunted Places, Part III
Five minutes later, Hikaru and Pavel are down in the lobby as promised, disheveled and puffy-eyed but alive. The group for this museum is small, just five other students, one of them Nyota, who is talking with Spock about Buddhism.
"You guys look horrible," she says to Hikaru as they head toward the Metro stop. "I guess Jim probably looks worse."
"Actually, he seemed pretty sprightly," Hikaru says. "I don't think it's hit him yet."
"I assume that 'it' is a liquid of some type?"
"Don't tell Spock."
"Like I would!"
The ride on the Metro makes Hikaru feel sick to his stomach, and he hates the lights, the smells, the sound of Spock's voice as he talks to Nyota about 19th century Buddhist art. The only comfort is having Pavel beside him, though it's hard now that he knows what it's like to hold him. Hikaru wants to put an arm around him, stroke his cheek, kiss his clammy forehead.
When they leave the Metro the fresh air and sunlight feel good, and Hikaru has started to feel marginally normal again by the time they reach the museum. It's a quiet one, not crowded at all, and Hikaru wonders if Pavel picked it because he anticipated a hangover. Moving through its silent, softly-lit rooms feels like a remedy. Pavel seems most interested in the Japanese painted screens, and Hikaru watches him examine them, Nyota and Spock off in the Buddhist sculpture area and everyone else looking at pottery.
"Still feeling bad?" Hikaru asks Pavel when he reaches the end of a very long screen depicting a dog race.
"A little," Pavel says. "I kind of feel like I'm dreaming."
"Me too."
They grin at each other and move to the next room, walking slowly past Edo era vases and Meiji dishware. Hikaru expected to be bored by this and drift into fantasy, but he doesn't, and not because it's not boring. He's too preoccupied with what actually happened last night to daydream. When they reach the Buddhist sculpture room he tries to brush Pavel's hand and ends up just knocking his hand into Pavel's clumsily.
"Sorry," Hikaru says, moving away, pretending to be very interested in a Shiva statue.
"That's okay," Pavel says. He walks over to Hikaru, and when Hikaru sneaks a look at him he's smiling, staring at the Shiva in a glazed-over sort of way. His hand bumps against Hikaru's leg, and when he moves on to look at the next object he pulls Hikaru along by the elbow.
It feels like they're the only ones in the museum, though others are also drifting through slowly, like sleepwalkers, and as they move further into the building, down to the basement level, Hikaru feels gloriously separate from the real world, especially as the touches he's exchanging with Pavel continue, bolder than they were the day before. Every time Pavel is ready to move on and look at something else, he physically alerts Hikaru in some way, either taking him by the wrist and pulling him along or putting his hands on Hikaru's hips and shuffle-walking him to the next wine jug or hair pin or carved figurine in the collection. Hikaru is in heaven, the dull buzz of his hangover almost pleasant as he responds in his clumsy way, making Pavel laugh when their hands crash together.
"Why'd you pick this museum?" Hikaru asks when they're headed back up to the main entrance to meet up with the others.
"I like Asian art," Pavel says, and his nervous laugh gets Hikaru going, too. He knocks his shoulder into Pavel's, wrapping his fingers around the end of Pavel's sweatshirt sleeve, which is hanging down over his hand.
They leave the museum with Spock's group, and Hikaru is sorry to, but the afternoon is beautiful, and Spock walks them through the Enid A. Haupt garden, which is full of plants that Hikaru wants to stop and examine more closely, something that Spock obliges, as a fellow botany enthusiast. Pavel is drawn to all of the plants with fuzzy leaves, and can't walk past one without touching it.
"Damn, I wish I had my camera," Hikaru says.
"Here," Pavel says, digging his iPhone out of his pocket. He scrolls through its functions to the camera app, and turns bright red when the last picture he took pops onto the screen. It's one of Hikaru from the night before, sleeping, the lights in the room still on.
"Jim made me take that," Pavel says, thumbing it off the screen. "He said you looked funny."
Hikaru blushes, too, his lips trembling with the effort not to break into an idiotic grin. He starts taking pictures of flowers and leaves, showing Pavel every shot, which is a good excuse to lean in close enough to catch the scent of Pavel's hair.
"Do you know the scientific name for the angel trumpet flower, Hikaru?" Spock asks.
"Brugmansia," Hikaru says, accustomed to these quizzes. They have scientific name challenges all the time in the Botany club, and Hikaru usually wins, unless Spock is actually playing rather than running the game.
"Be careful," Spock says, taking Nyota's wrist when she reaches up toward the flowers. "They contain dangerous levels of poison."
"Oh," Nyota says, her arm frozen in mid-reach. Spock is still holding her wrist, and he flushes when he notices this, releasing it.
"Some municipalities actually forbid the sale of these plants," Spock says. "They are beautiful, though." He still seems a bit taken off guard, maybe by the way Nyota is openly mooning. They stroll off together and Hikaru hangs back, taking more pictures.
"How did you get interested in this?" Pavel asks when Hikaru shows him a picture of the echeveria plant that Pavel is touching, gently squeezing one of its succulent leaves.
"When I was a kid, my mom showed me how a cutting in a glass could grow roots," Hikaru says. "I think that's what started it. That blew my mind. It's dorky, I know."
"Not dorky," Pavel says. "I like it."
"You like it?" Hikaru says, bumping shoulders with him as they hurry toward the rest of the group. "So why don't you join the botany club?"
"I mean I like that you like it," Pavel says. "I could not be in the botany club."
"Why not?"
"Spock annoys me," Pavel says, whispering, and Hikaru laughs.
"He's not that bad."
"I don't like how he quizzes you. Like you're a child or something! Or his student."
"Nah, it's fun," Hikaru says. "Maybe you could join up after Spock graduates. I'm gonna make a run at the presidency."
"Yes, I would like that," Pavel says, grinning. "Would you quiz me on scientific names?"
"Only if you wanted me to."
"I would want you to," Pavel says. They're both still blushing, smiling like idiots. Nyota turns back to take their picture when they reach the garden's exit.
"You two are looking more human now," she says.
They go for lunch at an Italian sandwich shop, and Hikaru eats more than he has in a long time. He didn't realize how starving he was until he smelled food, and he scarfs down his meatball sub, some fries, and a cannoli, washing it all down with three cherry Cokes. Pavel eats with the same frenzied enthusiasm, neither of them talking much, just concentrating on the task at hand. Hikaru can't remember the last time food tasted this good.
"Did you guys hear anything spooky last night?" Nyota asks when they're basking the afterglow, everyone too full to move, except for maybe Spock, who had a tomato and mozzarella salad with fizzy water.
"Nothing really," Hikaru says. He opens his mouth to tell everyone the story about how Pavel scared him while talking in his sleep, but then decides he'd rather keep that for himself. He waits to see if Pavel will mention it and finds himself glad when he doesn't. He just wishes that Pavel remembered it, though maybe he doesn't need to. His knee is bumping against Hikaru's under the table.
On the walk to the American History Museum Hikaru begins to feel ill again, his stomach rumbling unhappily under the weight of all that food. Pavel is quiet, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his sweatshirt.
"I feel weird," Pavel says, keeping his voice low. "Like -- the colors aren't right."
"I kind of know what you mean," Hikaru says, squinting. "I'm never drinking again."
"Nyet, don't make that promise! You have to drink good vodka with me someday. The high quality kind doesn't leave you feeling like this."
The American History Museum is nothing like that last one. It's swarming with people, brightly lit, kids running everywhere, a giant gift shop that looks like a Quick Stop at the back of the front lobby. Hikaru feels woozy from the noise alone, regretting how quickly he ate as his stomach continues to gurgle uncomfortably. Pavel is blinking a lot, wincing a little. Hikaru gets an idea as the group heads into the west wing of the museum.
"Spock, I think Pavel is sick," Hikaru says. Pavel looks up at him, and he doesn't seem surprised by this plot, so maybe he really is sick. He's looking greenish.
"Can I go back to the hotel?" Pavel asks, following Hikaru's train of thought. "I need to lie down, I think."
"I'll go with him," Hikaru says before Spock can respond. Spock is frowning slightly, as if he doesn't understand the concept of illness. Hikaru would bet that he's never even had a cold.
"I was instructed not to let you wander off alone," Spock says. "I'm sorry, but you will have to wait until we're done here at the museum. If you like, you can sit in the lobby and rest while we make the rounds."
"But if we're sitting here in the lobby we might as well be back at the hotel, 'cause you're not watching us anyway," Hikaru says, trying to appeal to Spock's sense of logic. "Please, Spock? I don't feel good, either, I think it might be food poisoning or something. Me and Pavel are the only ones who had cannolis back at that restaurant."
They stand there watching Spock think, his hands clasped behind his back. Hikaru gives Nyota a pleading look, and she smiles.
"You'd better let them go," she says to Spock. "Pavel has a condition."
"A condition? Of what sort? I was not informed."
"A stomach condition," Pavel says. "Is -- personal. I do not like to discuss it."
Spock narrows his eyes slightly, as if he suspects he's being tricked. Hikaru's heart sinks, but then Spock looks at Nyota, and some silent understanding seems to pass between them.
"Fine," Spock says. "The two of you may take the Metro back to the hotel. Please don't let anyone know that I allowed you to do this."
"We won't," Hikaru says, wanting to leap in the air with joy, despite his acing stomach. "Thanks, Spock."
Leaving the noise of the crowded museum and walking back out into the sunlight makes Hikaru feel better, but Pavel still looks pretty grave as they head back toward the Metro stop. Hikaru's mind is racing as he tries to imagine what will happen when they get back to the hotel room. By the time they're on the train his stomach has started to hurt in a completely different way, twisted up with nerves.
"I can't believe Spock let us go," he says, worried about how quiet Pavel has become. Pavel nods, scooting down low in his seat so he can rest his head on the back of it. Hikaru casts around for something else to say, but suddenly can't come up with anything. Sweat beads on the back of his neck, and he digs his cell phone out of his pocket, pretending to be very interested in his text message inbox. His last text is from Pavel, one he received two nights before they left: are you watching south park?
It seems to take longer than usual to get back to the stop near the hotel, and when they get off the train panic is wracking through Hikaru's chest in painful waves, because Pavel still isn't talking, and maybe Hikaru has been wrong this whole time, all of the touches just accidental or friendly, the picture of him sleeping really prompted by Jim, Pavel's smiles just as bright for everyone else. He's so lost to his worries that he's halfway up the escalator that goes up to surface level before he turns back and sees that Pavel isn't behind him anymore.
Hikaru hasn't felt like this since he was lost in a department store as a little kid, and he wants to run back down the escalator, but there are people blocking his way, and its bearing him up, away from Pavel, who was right behind him when they got off the train. Hikaru stares down at the station, his mouth hanging open as he waits and waits for Pavel to appear at the bottom of the escalator. When he doesn't, Hikaru feels like he's gone crazy, like maybe Pavel was never with him on the train at all, the whole thing a crazy hallucination, obviously too good to actually be true.
Then Pavel is there, looking confused and a little annoyed, and Hikaru waves to him wildly. Pavel sees him and gets on the escalator, and Hikaru still wants to push his way to the bottom to get to him, but he doesn't, just rides to the top and waits there, overcome with relief. He's afraid that Pavel will be mad at him when he gets off the escalator, but he just seems exasperated, tired.
“The thing wouldn't let me through,” he says when he reaches Hikaru. “And then I turned around and all these people were rushing toward me. And you just took off.”
“Sorry,” Hikaru says. He reaches for Pavel's wrist and then stops himself, pulling his hand back. “I thought you were behind me.”
“I had to jump over the thing - the - what do you call it?” He curses in Russian the way he always does when he's embarrassed for not knowing an English word.
“Turnstile?” Hikaru says, like he's not sure about the word himself.
“I thought I would be arrested,” Pavel says, and Hikaru touches the small of Pavel's back, horrified at the thought. Pavel shuts his eyes and lets out a hard breath through his nose. “God,” he says. “I just want to be back in the room.”
“I know,” Hikaru says, though his uncertainty about what will happen when they get there is crushing the air from his lungs.
“I hope Jim and Olsen aren't there,” Pavel says. “I just wanted to watch TV - lay on the bed - be away from all these people for awhile. With you.”
He says the last two words quietly, and Hikaru allows himself to understand that Pavel isn't annoyed with him but with his hangover and the noise of the crowd at the National Mall, the dysfunctional subway turnstiles and the fact that he didn't know what to call them. He touches Pavel's back again, and Pavel shifts closer as the hotel comes into view.
“I'm so glad Spock let us leave,” Hikaru says, maybe repeating himself. Suddenly the weather seems custom made for this moment, bright and warm in just the right balance, some trees still green and others turning yellow and red already, attractive young couples strolling past with jubilant little dogs, the hotel looming like a haunted but friendly thing.
“My heart's racing,” Pavel says as they walk into the hotel. Hikaru doesn't know if he's talking about a hangover symptom or what's happening to them, what's about to happen.
“Mine, too,” he says, and Pavel laughs like someone who knows he's being humored, but it's true.
The elevator ride seems to last for years, and maybe it does, both of them stuck in some kind of time loop, their hands folded in front of them. Hikaru isn't sure that it will ever end, and stares at the changing floor numbers, not letting himself look at anything else. The hotel feels empty with the other students still out at the museums, and Hikaru knows before he opens the door to their room that Olsen and Jim won't be there.
The beds are made, everything in the room neatened, Hikaru's pajama pants folded over the back of the chair at the desk. The crystal glasses and paper cups have been replaced. Hikaru thinks of checking under the bed to see if the vodka is still there, but he can feel Pavel looking at him, so he turns around.
“Well,” Hikaru says. There's something roaring in his ears, a potent combination of anxiety and impatience that makes his arms feel too heavy to lift.
“You kissed my hair,” Pavel says. He sounds like he'll cry, like it was hurting him all day, waiting until he could say this out loud.
“I thought you were asleep.” Hikaru steps closer. They're standing where Hikaru stood last night, when Pavel told him that there was someone behind him and then held his arms out like he could save them both if Hikaru would just run to him.
“I was at first,” Pavel says. “I woke up and you were - all around me. I thought I was dreaming.”
“You could feel it?” Hikaru says. He takes the end of Pavel's sleeve and works his hand up into it until he finds Pavel's, tugging him closer. “I tried to do it so soft, so you wouldn't know.”
“I couldn't feel it,” Pavel says. His eyes suddenly seem like a thing that Hikaru could drink straight from the bottle, and the room is spinning now, fast. “But I could hear it, little kiss sounds.”
Hikaru can't believe how scary this is, actually being invited to do more than make kiss sounds against Pavel's curls. He finds Pavel's other hand, keeping his eyes locked on Pavel's, trying to act like he's not intimidated, feeling challenged even though Pavel looks so soft, his eyebrows arched.
“Close your eyes,” Hikaru says, and Pavel does.
It's just one tiny downward motion and his lips are pressed to Pavel's, which tremble under his, warm and more squishy than they look, his bottom lip ridiculously soft and the top one slightly chapped. Hikaru squeezes Pavel's hands and sighs against his mouth. When Pavel squeezes back, Hikaru licks him, parting his lips, finding his tongue. Pavel lets out a little unh when their tongues slide together, enough to set the whole lower half of Hikaru's body on fire. He opens his eyes, trying to breathe normally, to hide the fact that he's already panting, his chest shuddering under his t-shirt.
“Want to sit on the bed?” he asks, and Pavel nods. He looks hypnotized. Hikaru realizes that now that they've kissed on the lips he's allowed to kiss Pavel's face, too, and he does, so caught up in kissing his cheeks and his nose, his forehead and his eyelids, that Pavel laughs.
“What about the bed?” he asks.
Hikaru sits with his back to the headboard and Pavel straddles his hips, pressed up snug against him, his hands fisted in Hikaru's t-shirt. Hikaru has both hands up inside Pavel's sweatshirt, under his t-shirt, too, rubbing his back while they kiss and laugh nervously, their faces so hot.
“You are so cute,” Hikaru says, whispering. He thinks of a ghost listening and shivers. Pavel's hands slide up to his neck, his thumbs resting under the points of Pavel's jaw. He leans in closer and whispers something in Russian, his lips moving on Hikaru's ear.
“What did you say?” Hikaru asks. He thinks of reaching down to squeeze Pavel's ass, but isn't sure if that's allowed yet. He's hard inside his jeans, and he's pretty sure he felt the brush of Pavel's erection a couple of times, just the hint of it enough to make Hikaru's leak steadily into his boxers.
“I can't tell you in English,” Pavel says, his blush creeping up along his ears. “But it's good, I promise.”
“So then why can't you tell me?”
“'Cause it's embarrassing.”
“C'mon, please?” Hikaru says, swooping in to nibble along Pavel's jaw. He laughs and squirms, then moans to himself, resting his forehead against Hikaru's.
“I said I like the way you smell,” Pavel says, each word quieter than the last.
“Oh, God,” Hikaru says, tugging him closer, so close that Pavel's erection is jammed against his now, his thighs spread around Hikaru's sides. “Me, too. You, I mean, the way you smell.”
“If we were jungle animals that would mean we're ideal mates,” Pavel says.
“I think it means that anyway.”
Pavel grins, and they kiss for a long time, rutting timidly, Hikaru grunting when the friction goes from good to perfect. Hikaru can't believe how real this feels, after the surreal feeling of the day and the events of the night before. Pavel keeps gasping, and he's clutching at Hikaru so tightly, one hand pushed up into Hikaru's hair. Hikaru can't stop watching him, the way his eyelids get heavy and his lips fall open around his gasps, the way his hips roll.
Hikaru is about to come, starting to get bolder in the snap and rub of his hips, when there's a strange noise from outside. It's unmistakably the honk of geese flying by overhead, but it takes both of them a moment to place it with their heads all fuzzed up from sex, and they stare at each other until it dawns on them at the same time. Pavel starts laughing first, and then Hikaru does, too, all the anxiety shaking from his body. He wraps his arms around the small of Pavel's back and tips him down onto the bed, kneeling up over him then dropping down, watching the change in Pavel's eyes: he's surprised at first, maybe nervous for half a second, and then it's like he's daring and begging Hikaru to do what comes next.
Hikaru does, closing his mouth over Pavel's and grinding down onto him, swallowing up Pavel's astonished little moans and whimpers. Pavel actually comes first, squeezing up around Hikaru when he does, and Hikaru has never been prouder of anything in his life. He's quick to follow, the lobe of Pavel's ear between his teeth when he does. He's careful not to bite, just licks and sucks at as he spills himself into his boxers, shudders moving up and down his spine. When he's spent he allows himself a moment of disoriented bliss, dropping down onto Pavel and letting out his breath. Pavel is playing with his hair, humming with satisfaction. Hikaru can feel Pavel's smile pressed to his cheek.
“Oh, God,” Pavel says, jerking a little.
“What's wrong?” Hikaru asks, thinking maybe he's heard Jim and Olsen thundering down the hall. Hikaru isn't sure he could be persuaded to move off of Pavel, even if they did come bursting through the door.
“This is the only pair of jeans I brought on the trip,” Pavel says, and Hikaru laughs.
“I'll help you clean them up,” he says. He lifts his head and rubs his nose against Pavel's, admiring Pavel's post-sex flush. He wants to say crazy things like You're mine now and I love you, but he doesn't, just kisses Pavel lazily, his legs splayed out around Pavel's body, elbows framing his head.
"Do you think we knew each other in a past life?" Hikaru asks. "Moonlight Serenade" is playing again in his head, like music from a haunted room.
"Yes," Pavel says. "And I don't think it ended well."
"What?" Hikaru laughs. He didn't expect Pavel to indulge him in this fantasy. "You mean we broke up or whatever?"
"No. I think we died young or something. Or I wanted you but never got to have you."
"Why?" Hikaru asks, bothered by this, hugging himself a little more tightly around Pavel, who shrugs.
"The feeling I had when I met you," he says. "A kind of -- panicked fascination."
"You've given this a lot of thought," Hikaru says, not sure why he's so surprised. Pavel is a genius; he gives everything a lot of thought.
"It's all I've thought about for the past three days," Pavel says.
They clean up and watch TV for a bit, listening for sounds of ghosts from the upper floors or a crash from the bathroom, but nothing makes a sound except for the baseball game's announcers. Hikaru explains the rules to Pavel, the nuances, the history of some important players, and Pavel listens intently, snuggled up against Hikaru's side.
"It's almost four o'clock," Hikaru says when the game goes to commercials in the seventh inning. "Should we walk up to the zoo?" It's the last stop on the weekend schedule, aside from dinner in two and one more night spent in the haunted hotel. All of the groups are supposed to meet there when their museum-going day ends.
"I suppose," Pavel says. He sits up, takes a deep breath and watches Hikaru as he lets it out. He looks pleased with himself.
"Do you feel different?" Hikaru asks. Pavel thinks about this for a moment, his lips pursed.
"No," he says. "I feel the same as I did in my last life, whenever I was near to you."
"I'm surprised you believe in that stuff."
"Why?" Pavel says. "I'm not Spock. Not everything has a scientific name."
They get ready to go to the zoo, Pavel sitting on the floor to tie up his shoes and Hikaru going to the bathroom to splash water on his face. He's got his eyes closed, casting around for a towel, when he hears the faint sound of a baby crying. He dries his face and tries to place the direction that it's coming from, but can't figure out if it's upstairs, downstairs, or out in the hall. He walks back into the room and looks at Pavel, whose eyes are wide.
"Do you hear --?" he starts to ask, and Pavel nods.
"We should go."
"Yeah -- yeah, let's go."
Without realizing it, they hold hands all the way to the elevator. The halls are empty, and Hikaru can't hear the baby crying anymore, but his heart is beating a little faster. Pavel jumps when the elevator dings loudly as it arrives, and Hikaru checks for onlookers before leaning over to kiss his cheek.
"I think we're gonna be okay," Hikaru says as they board the elevator. "In this life."
"Oh, me too!" Pavel says, and he beams. "I have a good feeling."
Hikaru does, too, and he hums to himself on the walk to the zoo, Pavel close enough to bump shoulders and brush hands with. Pavel is talking about toucans, and an uncle who owned one in Russia. Hikaru is listening, mostly, but his thoughts keep returning to the little noise that Pavel squeaked out when he came, and how he's going to get to hear it again, so many times, in his bed and Pavel's, in the backseat of cars, and in the apartment that they'll rent together when they go off to college. He thinks about one of his past selves regretting that he never had those things and becoming not a ghost but a new person, because Pavel was worth another try.
The zoo is not as crowded as Hikaru expected, mothers pushing strollers out toward the exit as he and Pavel walk in. They wind past the exhibits as they look for their class, laughing at the sloth bear and scoffing at the overrated pandas, hurrying past the stinky elephants. Hikaru hears Jim's voice first, louder than the rest, and he follows the sound to the viewing area by the giraffe enclosure. The whole group is there, McCoy eating popcorn out of a paper bag, Uhura and Spock deep in discussion on the sidelines, Olsen saying something to Janice that's making her face turn bright red, Scotty making kissy faces at the giraffes in an attempt to get them to come closer, Jim stealing some of McCoy's popcorn. Hikaru is surprised to find that he actually missed the cheerful noise of the rest of the group, and Pavel seems to feel the same way, grinning as they come to stand beside Jim.
"Oh my God," Jim says, grabbing one of each of their shoulders. "You guys missed out."
"I can't believe you're not hungover," Hikaru says, keeping his voice low. Coach Daniels is nearby, telling a group of girls that in his hometown there is a law on the books that explicitly forbids tying a giraffe to a streetlamp.
"I am," Jim says, waving his hand through the air. "I'm just not letting it get to me. It's been a good twenty-four hours."
"What happened last night?" Pavel asks as they move further away from the rest of the group, toward Lemur Island. McCoy is keeping an eye on them, chewing his popcorn.
"What didn't happen?" Jim says. "Olsen pussied out in the ghost bathroom, don't listen to whatever he told you. We swam in the hotel pool even though it was closed, ate waffles at this all night diner, threw a traffic cone in a fountain in some park, oh -- and we told these Georgetown kids that we were from the future, and they were so high they believed us, and they were like, freaking out because McCoy was going all crazy-eyed and talking about the coming apocalypse and stuff. And then I ended up crying on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, which was really funny in hindsight."
Jim looks over at the group wistfully, and Hikaru can imagine him breaking down into drunken tears and ending up with McCoy's arms around him, Lincoln glowing from his seat behind them, five o'clock in the morning, both of them reeking of chlorine and booze.
"It was the best night ever," Jim says. "What have you two been doing all day?" he asks.
"Nothing," Hikaru says, too forcefully, and Jim laughs.
"I'll bet," he says. "C'mon, let's go look at lemurs."
"No sneaking off," McCoy says, coming up behind them and making Hikaru startle a bit. He's still on edge, feeling a bit watched by the history of this whole city. He'll be glad to go home and start this new life where he's allowed to kiss Pavel's curls whenever he wants to.
"So come with us, Leo-nard-o," Jim says. McCoy gives him a look.
"Call me that again and die," he says, but there's a kind of sweetness in it, and when Jim beams at him McCoy seems to actually consider returning his smile, his lips twitching just a bit.
They head over to look at the lemurs, Pavel's hand bumping against Hikaru's and Hikaru so relieved that they're still going to play this game, touching in secret and smiling vaguely as they struggle not to look at each other when their hands brush. Pavel's smell is slightly different, maybe a little less sweet, more spicy. Jim is different, too, less fidgety, his smiles not so sarcastic. Hikaru feels changed as he watches the lemurs, calmer, not so haunted. He thinks of that moment on the Metro escalator when he looked back to find that Pavel was no longer with him, and wonders if the turnstile that stopped him might have been motivated by some divine force. Something wanted Hikaru to know what those Hikarus throughout history must have felt when the state of the world yanked the rug out from under him and sent Pavel flying in the opposite direction. He pushes his elbow against Pavel's on the railing and watches the lemurs groom each other, thinking about what Pavel said about jungle animals. He's got the words ideal mate stuck in his head, playing over 'Moonlight Serenade,' and when he looks back on this trip that's what he'll remember: the song, the quiet room where they kissed for the first time, the dark corners of the museums where their fingertips brushed together, and Pavel just like this, not the fearsome officer of Hikaru's fantasies but the best possible Pavel that history could offer him: cozy in his giant sweatshirt, sleepy-eyed from sex and vodka, a boy who worried that he might never see Hikaru's sleeping face again and took a picture just in case.
//the end//
song: Moonlight Serenade
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