almost kissed
title: Almost Kissed
pairing: Chris/Dustin
author: reogulus
rating: PG-13
wordcount: 3,282
disclaimer: Not mine, not true, not used for profit.
notes: A long overdue fill for this prompt at tsn_kinkmeme . Chris and Dustin are so good, they are like chocolate to my slashy soul ♥
The first time it almost happens.
Dustin bursts through the door, just back from a crappy AEPi party you’ve told him not to go.
“You’re back early,” you try to sound casual. “I’m having some trouble with my System homework and uh, Mark says he needs a minute.”
“Want me to take a look, too?” Dustin catches your unspoken request without even blinking.
You show him the instructions page and he seems to be reading it with much more focus than required. You can't hold back the question. “Are you okay?”
He replies faster than you expect. “Yeah, well. I still don’t know why she led me on for so long. She could’ve told me that she already fucked half of the fraternity brothers before everybody at the party knew I have a crush on her - is that too much to ask?”
“I’m sorry.” You don’t know what else to say so you pat him on the shoulder. He feels breakable under your palm. You recognize the angle at which his head is bowed down, the yellow light of your desk lamp shines on his half-closed eyelids. He’s so quiet that it makes you depressed.
(This isn’t the first time. Dustin would meet some girl, bite his nails for a few days before finally asking her out, and somehow it would always end badly. He would come back to the dorm, to you, and you would tell him that you’re sorry. You’ve got it down like a script. He’s got it, too. )
(And now you would say “she doesn’t deserve you”, time and time again.)
“She doesn’t deserve you, man. Just forget about her and lighten up.” You stretched out your arms, “come here.”
(And he would lean into your embrace, just like any other time.)
His hair smells like stale beer when it brushes against your cheek. You feel his arms tightening around your back.
(And you don’t want him to let go, but he always does, sooner than later.)
His arms are locked around you long enough that you feel your heart pounding. You try to pull back and he does the same. His eyes are so close to yours that you’re afraid to blink, the tip of his nose at the corner of your mouth. You’re motionless, a frozen body with a racing heart.
(The script comes to an end.)
He lets go and the world snaps back to focus. You clear your throat and try to free yourself from the heaviness in the pit of your stomach. He looks at you like he’s just heard you choke.
Meanwhile, Mark’s sleepy voice rings at the other end of the dorm. “Chris, I’ve got it down.”
You both get up at the same time. He walks back to his desk and you walk towards Mark’s room. You feel his eyes on you but you refuse to look back, not even risking a glance.
(There would be perfect oblivion in his eyes that you know is fatal.)
The second time it almost happens.
Stephanie Attis turns out to be an okay girl. Quite okay, actually, okay enough for you understand why Dustin thinks she rocks his world. She didn’t turn Dustin down when he proposed a movie date, she has a nice smile, and she even says hi to you in the lecture halls after you’ve met her.
Dustin looks visibly happier these days when he’s wired in and even chirpier when he’s not coding. He won’t shut up about anything even when Mark tells him straight up that he’s getting annoying.
You can’t say the same about yourself which, technically, makes you a horrible person because you are sad at the sight of your best friend’s happiness. If you know how you’re doing this to yourself, you’d make it stop. But you don’t, and Dustin is even more clueless. So you numb yourself with a crushing workload, devoting your weekends to road trips around the east coast for promotion of The Facebook and networking in other universities. As for the time you’re actually on Harvard campus, you don’t think you’ve ever taken school so seriously in the last nineteen years of your life.
There is dust collecting on the XBOX consoles in the den - Mark is pleased and can’t care less, but Dustin should be concerned. Or you hope that he is.
It’s eight o’clock on Friday night and the doorbell rings. Dustin’s in the shower so you go get the door. Stephanie beams at you, but your returning smile disappears too soon before you ask her to come on in. You’ve just given her a Mountain Dew when Dustin walks in with a towel around his neck. They share a quick smooch before Dustin goes to change. You avert your eyes and focus on your Art History homework.
“See ya,” he slaps your shoulder playfully before walking out the door with his arm around Stephanie’s waist.
“Have fun,” you say, half-heartedly. You hear the door closes. The sound echoes in the empty dorm and continues to echo in your heart.
He comes back in the middle of the night (you genuinely expect him to come back the next morning) and you almost jump out of your skin because you haven’t even heard his footsteps as he comes near your bed.
“Chris? Are you asleep?” He whispers. You feel his weight crushing on your sheets near your feet. You sit up in your bed.
“I’m here.” Your voice cracks a little and your throat still feels dry even after all the beers you’ve had tonight.
“Listen, uh…if you need me, if you want to talk about anything, I’m right here. Stop stressing yourself.” He opens his mouth to try to say something else, but you know he’s not good at this. Not as good as you are. So he reaches his hand out to you.
You close your eyes in the dark and take his hand. You pull him near with a careful tug. He doesn’t resist.
You lean in and whisper at his ear, your voice deeper than usual. “You talk too much these days, Dustin. Sometimes I just want to shut you up.”
You bring up a finger and brush it across his lips. His hazel eyes glisten under the moonlight. Puzzled, timid, but knowing. His hand shifts a little in your palm and you know you can’t do it tonight, so you force yourself to let go. To your surprise, he hugs you quickly before stepping out.
You lay yourself down again, the back of your skull missing the pillow by an inch and bumps into the headboard. You miss his touch too much to feel any pain.
The third time it almost happens.
Tuesday comes around and Dustin stays in bed later than usual. You knock on his door gingerly at 11AM and he gives you some sort of mumbling response that sounds like “go away”. Your best guess is that something went really wrong with either coding or Stephanie - there is no way to perform process of elimination as Mark’s been wired in since 5AM.
You try not to make yourself worry too much but you haven’t even noticed the glass of water that Wardo just passed to you. Now Wardo is looking at you with that intense amount of concern that he always has when Mark, Dustin and you are too busy taking care of Facebook to look after yourselves. It’s hard to mask your worries under his benevolent scrutiny, so you take the water, smile quickly as a thank-you, and pretend to be responding emails from the 29 universities that Facebook has built itself upon.
By 1PM Wardo’s got to go to class, but not before he forces some pizza into Mark’s stomach and coaxes him to bed. He pats your back briefly and says something about checking on Dustin and keeps repeating his concerns for Dustin until you finally turn and nod furiously as a gesture of thorough understanding. He waves at you with a warm smile before walking out the door. You wave back but he’s already down the stairs.
So you shut your laptop and tiptoe your way to Dustin’s door. This time you decide against knocking, but only because you know Dustin never locks his door. You push the door open gingerly, and the door hinge still creaks. There’s a lump on the bed, buried under the sheets. You frown. The room is not cold and you know Dustin prefers sprawling across the bed and hates bedcovers.
The lump trembles slightly as you approach. You bend over his pillow, and you can see hints of rusty red hair. Your stomach sinks a little.
“Hey.” You say, in a voice that you thought you won’t need to use on him anymore.
The lump turns away from you. “Leave me alone. I don’t know what to do.” His reply sounds like a series of badly-written code coming through the sheets. You’re surprised that you have no trouble understanding it.
“Stop speaking non-sense. Do you want me to tell Mark that you haven’t done shit all day long when he wakes up?” You pull the cover up where his head is. He’s hiding his eyes and forehead under his elbow, but he quickly removes his mask once he hears Mark’s name.
“Wait. Mark hasn’t told you yet? I thought he was going to make the announcement today?”
Now it’s your turn to blink. “He’s been wired in all day - what are you talking about?”
Dustin sits up and rubs his eyes. You can’t tell if they are red from the rubbing or something else. In fact, his entire face looks redder than usual. “Facebook is moving to Palo Alto, Chris. Mark found the perfect house last night. He’s gonna take the whole crew with him - you, me, the future interns and maybe Wardo.”
“Okay, I guess this is good news.” You don’t allow the topic to drift away. “Why are you hiding in bed, then?”
He lies down immediately and covers himself up again. “I’m not talking about this.”
You sigh and pull a chair near. You make enough noise sitting down so he’s aware that you’re not going anywhere. “Is it Stephanie?”
“Long-distance relationships don’t work, period. Besides, I’ve only known her for what, not even six months - I know she’ll cry, Chris, I don’t want to be a dick -”
You start to pry his fingers off the edge of the covers. He struggles a bit, but he never wins in any physical conflict between you two, anyway. Half a minute later and you’re leaning over him, staring down into his eyes. His chest is rising and falling beneath your elbow, and you can feel the frustration in him.
“Listen, Moskovitz. If you love her, you’d ask her to understand what you’re doing. And if she loves you, she’d respect your decision and wish you the best of luck.” Then you quickly add, “Of course, the best scenario would be if she’s willing to follow you to Palo Alto. Have you even asked her anything?”
Dustin shakes his head, a little awkwardly and helplessly between your arms. His breath tickles your skin and already, you regret being too harsh on him. But he’s not the only one with boarded-up frustration and torn up by what to do or, not to do.
He shifts a little, obviously uncomfortable in the position of being stuck between the bed and your body with a flushed face and irregular heartbeat. Dustin looks too vulnerable and your head is not as clear as you’d like it to be.
“Chris?” He calls you softly, his voice as benign as the midnight hug you’ve been trying to forget. But how on earth am I supposed to let go? You think as you lower yourself, inch by inch.
His eyelashes are fluttering against your chin when a familiar voice barges in. “Dustin, Chris, why are you two still in bed?”
You both look up and see Mark standing at the door, Twizzler in hand, looking genuinely uninterested. You turn to look at Dustin but he looks away. You stands up straight to let him get up and get dressed.
Dustin says nothing, and you don’t bother to explain to Mark that you haven’t been in Dustin’s bed either. No matter how many times you find yourself secretly wishing for it.
The fourth time it almost happens.
The night before the Facebook crew board the flight to Palo Alto, Mark invites everyone to the bar for a farewell party. Well, you think, getting drunk on free booze is always better than last-minute packing.
To your surprise, Eduardo didn’t show. Mark has to go back early because he just thought of the solution to the bug that he’s been talking about for days, and that leaves you smirking at Dustin’s epic fail at beer pong. He looks like he’s having a good time, carefree and open like he always is. That vulnerable, confused boy who almost let you kiss him is nowhere in sight.
It’s been a week since then, and you’ve both managed to pretend like it never happened.
“Dude,” you grab his shoulder and laugh into his neck, “the interns totally owned your ass. It’s gonna be hard to establish yourself as their boss when we’re out there.”
Dustin finds a stool in the quiet corner and gestures for you to sit next to him. “Don’t you worry about respect - they are gonna be blown away when they see the Moskovitzard do his coding magic.” That crooked smile doesn’t last long on his goofy face. “Oh fuck, I can just feel the hangover kicking my ass on the plane tomorrow.”
You put a soothing palm on his back: “How much did you drink?”
“Well, I lost two rounds, so that’s…” Dustin pauses to do the multiplication, “12 beers, not counting the penalties.”
“Shit,” you laugh, “I’ll remind you to ask the stewardess for a doggie bag.”
“Thanks, Christopher,” Dustin slurs, “you never let me down.”
“Any time,” you say, in a softer voice, “you talked to Stephanie?”
Dustin wipes his mouth with his wrist, and looks down at his hands. “Talked to her yesterday. She cried, but she said she understands. She asked me if I’ll ever come back to Harvard, but…” You feel a damp hand on your thigh. “Honestly, Facebook is moving so fast right now I just…I don’t even feel like I’m in control of my own life.”
“It’s okay,” you sling an arm around his shoulder and pat his back, “we’re all in this together, man. Just know that I’m always, always here for you.”
“Geez, Chris, you’re such a sap.” There’s a strange feeling of relief in seeing that familiar goofy grin is back on Dustin’s face. “Of course I’ll be fine.” He bumps his knee into your thigh playfully, and suddenly your heart is beating too fast. You can’t take your eyes off of the blush on Dustin’s cheeks. His knee is still touching your leg. You try to move away from the contact (even though you really don’t want to), but you don’t even know how to position your legs anymore.
There’s an awkward pause, as Dustin turns around and gives you a concerned look. “Chris? Is the room too hot? You look kinda weird.”
“Ye-Yeah,” you stutter, “it’s too warm in here, there’re too many people. I’m just gonna go get some fresh air.”
“Hold on, I’ll come with you.”
You jump off your seat but you don’t dare to turn around, because you know he’s right behind you.
***
This is not the first time you’ve been alone together, but you feel like your heart is gonna pop out of your chest.
The night air is refreshingly cool. You take a seat on the fire escape stairs, and Dustin leans against the balcony, closing his eyes as the cool air ruffles through his hair. Heat rises on your cheeks, but you blame it on alcohol.
He opens his eyes and looks at you. You don’t turn away, holding his gaze because, no, you don’t want to run away anymore. Within this moment of silent exchange, you can convince yourself that maybe, just maybe, he understands how you feel.
“Chris,” he whispers, walking closer towards you. “Last Tuesday, if Mark didn’t come in…you were going to kiss me, right?” The last few words of the sentence are barely audible, but he’s already sitting next to you, hip to hip and knee to knee. The heat from his body is just too much, and you know you can’t keep it up anymore.
“Yeah, I was,” you turn to look into his eyes, your hands quivering a little at what you’re about to say. “Dustin. I…I’ve always had feelings for you. But there’s always some other girl on your mind, and…I don’t think I’ll ever get the chance.” To show you how much I want you. To show you how much I care.
“I know,” he says, giving your hand a solid squeeze. Somehow it doesn’t feel cold and sweaty anymore. “And I’m glad you’re telling me this. I’m glad it’s you.” He chuckles lightly, and you think your heart skipped a beat. “All of those other girls, I mean, they are great and all, but they are never fully in my life. You’re the only person who hates me for drinking all the orange juice but also buys it for me because you know I love it.”
You laugh, “I guess I am.”
“So, um,” he looks you in the eyes, with the sheepish, nervous grin that you know and love. “If you ever want to, I don’t know, give it a try, I guess I’m -”
“Oh, shut up,” you pull him close and gently put your hand on the back of his head. His hair feels as soft underneath your fingers as you dreamed it is.
But as you go in for the kiss, a sharp sound of beer bottles dropping on the floor explodes from the inside, along with the ridiculous laughter of some clearly intoxicated interns. They walk past the window and wave at you and Dustin. Dustin waves back; you try to smile and mask your intention to murder those kids.
“Hey guys, sorry about the broken glass!” a girl giggles as Dustin and you make your way inside, “did we interrupt anything?”
“It’s all right,” you say, making your way around the glass shards on the floor, “everything’s just peachy.”
Dustin grins at you like he’s never smiled so big in his life.
The fifth time it almost happens (but it will).
The pool at this house is so ridiculous. Basically, the fact that Mark has rented a house with a pool is beyond your understanding.
Of course, Dustin is totally thrilled.
“Chris, you gotta try the zipline!” He whines after you for the tenth time today.
“No.” You firmly decline for the tenth time, “I swear, that thing's gonna kill somebody one day.”
Dustin just sits there and looks at you, half-naked in his swim trunks and dripping wet. You try not to lose focus.
“Dustin, I’m working here.” You tear your eyes away from him and attempt to concentrate on the papers in front of you.
“Mark’s filming everyone’s jump, so you don’t have to worry about him firing you for slacking off or anything like that.” He grins, “Just one jump, please? I’ll make it worth your while.”
Well, he better, you think to yourself. The colour of those damp, rusty red strands under the California sun is quite distracting.
You sigh dramatically. “Fine. I’ll do it this afternoon after I’m done with the paperwork.”
“Yes!” His eyes light up with joy like a five-year-old before going outside again, and you can’t help but smile.
Somehow you’re not very surprised to hear the chimney collapse ten minutes later. You run outside to see the damages, and thankfully Dustin’s in one piece.
“You alright?”
“I’m okay, mom.”
You smack him lightly on the head. “Well, there goes my afternoon adventure. Do I still get my prize?”
You lean in for a quick kiss, but Dustin pulls away, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Well, you need to work for it.”
You smile and throw a towel at him. “I can’t wait.”
end :)
pairing: Chris/Dustin
author: reogulus
rating: PG-13
wordcount: 3,282
disclaimer: Not mine, not true, not used for profit.
notes: A long overdue fill for this prompt at tsn_kinkmeme . Chris and Dustin are so good, they are like chocolate to my slashy soul ♥
The first time it almost happens.
Dustin bursts through the door, just back from a crappy AEPi party you’ve told him not to go.
“You’re back early,” you try to sound casual. “I’m having some trouble with my System homework and uh, Mark says he needs a minute.”
“Want me to take a look, too?” Dustin catches your unspoken request without even blinking.
You show him the instructions page and he seems to be reading it with much more focus than required. You can't hold back the question. “Are you okay?”
He replies faster than you expect. “Yeah, well. I still don’t know why she led me on for so long. She could’ve told me that she already fucked half of the fraternity brothers before everybody at the party knew I have a crush on her - is that too much to ask?”
“I’m sorry.” You don’t know what else to say so you pat him on the shoulder. He feels breakable under your palm. You recognize the angle at which his head is bowed down, the yellow light of your desk lamp shines on his half-closed eyelids. He’s so quiet that it makes you depressed.
(This isn’t the first time. Dustin would meet some girl, bite his nails for a few days before finally asking her out, and somehow it would always end badly. He would come back to the dorm, to you, and you would tell him that you’re sorry. You’ve got it down like a script. He’s got it, too. )
(And now you would say “she doesn’t deserve you”, time and time again.)
“She doesn’t deserve you, man. Just forget about her and lighten up.” You stretched out your arms, “come here.”
(And he would lean into your embrace, just like any other time.)
His hair smells like stale beer when it brushes against your cheek. You feel his arms tightening around your back.
(And you don’t want him to let go, but he always does, sooner than later.)
His arms are locked around you long enough that you feel your heart pounding. You try to pull back and he does the same. His eyes are so close to yours that you’re afraid to blink, the tip of his nose at the corner of your mouth. You’re motionless, a frozen body with a racing heart.
(The script comes to an end.)
He lets go and the world snaps back to focus. You clear your throat and try to free yourself from the heaviness in the pit of your stomach. He looks at you like he’s just heard you choke.
Meanwhile, Mark’s sleepy voice rings at the other end of the dorm. “Chris, I’ve got it down.”
You both get up at the same time. He walks back to his desk and you walk towards Mark’s room. You feel his eyes on you but you refuse to look back, not even risking a glance.
(There would be perfect oblivion in his eyes that you know is fatal.)
The second time it almost happens.
Stephanie Attis turns out to be an okay girl. Quite okay, actually, okay enough for you understand why Dustin thinks she rocks his world. She didn’t turn Dustin down when he proposed a movie date, she has a nice smile, and she even says hi to you in the lecture halls after you’ve met her.
Dustin looks visibly happier these days when he’s wired in and even chirpier when he’s not coding. He won’t shut up about anything even when Mark tells him straight up that he’s getting annoying.
You can’t say the same about yourself which, technically, makes you a horrible person because you are sad at the sight of your best friend’s happiness. If you know how you’re doing this to yourself, you’d make it stop. But you don’t, and Dustin is even more clueless. So you numb yourself with a crushing workload, devoting your weekends to road trips around the east coast for promotion of The Facebook and networking in other universities. As for the time you’re actually on Harvard campus, you don’t think you’ve ever taken school so seriously in the last nineteen years of your life.
There is dust collecting on the XBOX consoles in the den - Mark is pleased and can’t care less, but Dustin should be concerned. Or you hope that he is.
It’s eight o’clock on Friday night and the doorbell rings. Dustin’s in the shower so you go get the door. Stephanie beams at you, but your returning smile disappears too soon before you ask her to come on in. You’ve just given her a Mountain Dew when Dustin walks in with a towel around his neck. They share a quick smooch before Dustin goes to change. You avert your eyes and focus on your Art History homework.
“See ya,” he slaps your shoulder playfully before walking out the door with his arm around Stephanie’s waist.
“Have fun,” you say, half-heartedly. You hear the door closes. The sound echoes in the empty dorm and continues to echo in your heart.
He comes back in the middle of the night (you genuinely expect him to come back the next morning) and you almost jump out of your skin because you haven’t even heard his footsteps as he comes near your bed.
“Chris? Are you asleep?” He whispers. You feel his weight crushing on your sheets near your feet. You sit up in your bed.
“I’m here.” Your voice cracks a little and your throat still feels dry even after all the beers you’ve had tonight.
“Listen, uh…if you need me, if you want to talk about anything, I’m right here. Stop stressing yourself.” He opens his mouth to try to say something else, but you know he’s not good at this. Not as good as you are. So he reaches his hand out to you.
You close your eyes in the dark and take his hand. You pull him near with a careful tug. He doesn’t resist.
You lean in and whisper at his ear, your voice deeper than usual. “You talk too much these days, Dustin. Sometimes I just want to shut you up.”
You bring up a finger and brush it across his lips. His hazel eyes glisten under the moonlight. Puzzled, timid, but knowing. His hand shifts a little in your palm and you know you can’t do it tonight, so you force yourself to let go. To your surprise, he hugs you quickly before stepping out.
You lay yourself down again, the back of your skull missing the pillow by an inch and bumps into the headboard. You miss his touch too much to feel any pain.
The third time it almost happens.
Tuesday comes around and Dustin stays in bed later than usual. You knock on his door gingerly at 11AM and he gives you some sort of mumbling response that sounds like “go away”. Your best guess is that something went really wrong with either coding or Stephanie - there is no way to perform process of elimination as Mark’s been wired in since 5AM.
You try not to make yourself worry too much but you haven’t even noticed the glass of water that Wardo just passed to you. Now Wardo is looking at you with that intense amount of concern that he always has when Mark, Dustin and you are too busy taking care of Facebook to look after yourselves. It’s hard to mask your worries under his benevolent scrutiny, so you take the water, smile quickly as a thank-you, and pretend to be responding emails from the 29 universities that Facebook has built itself upon.
By 1PM Wardo’s got to go to class, but not before he forces some pizza into Mark’s stomach and coaxes him to bed. He pats your back briefly and says something about checking on Dustin and keeps repeating his concerns for Dustin until you finally turn and nod furiously as a gesture of thorough understanding. He waves at you with a warm smile before walking out the door. You wave back but he’s already down the stairs.
So you shut your laptop and tiptoe your way to Dustin’s door. This time you decide against knocking, but only because you know Dustin never locks his door. You push the door open gingerly, and the door hinge still creaks. There’s a lump on the bed, buried under the sheets. You frown. The room is not cold and you know Dustin prefers sprawling across the bed and hates bedcovers.
The lump trembles slightly as you approach. You bend over his pillow, and you can see hints of rusty red hair. Your stomach sinks a little.
“Hey.” You say, in a voice that you thought you won’t need to use on him anymore.
The lump turns away from you. “Leave me alone. I don’t know what to do.” His reply sounds like a series of badly-written code coming through the sheets. You’re surprised that you have no trouble understanding it.
“Stop speaking non-sense. Do you want me to tell Mark that you haven’t done shit all day long when he wakes up?” You pull the cover up where his head is. He’s hiding his eyes and forehead under his elbow, but he quickly removes his mask once he hears Mark’s name.
“Wait. Mark hasn’t told you yet? I thought he was going to make the announcement today?”
Now it’s your turn to blink. “He’s been wired in all day - what are you talking about?”
Dustin sits up and rubs his eyes. You can’t tell if they are red from the rubbing or something else. In fact, his entire face looks redder than usual. “Facebook is moving to Palo Alto, Chris. Mark found the perfect house last night. He’s gonna take the whole crew with him - you, me, the future interns and maybe Wardo.”
“Okay, I guess this is good news.” You don’t allow the topic to drift away. “Why are you hiding in bed, then?”
He lies down immediately and covers himself up again. “I’m not talking about this.”
You sigh and pull a chair near. You make enough noise sitting down so he’s aware that you’re not going anywhere. “Is it Stephanie?”
“Long-distance relationships don’t work, period. Besides, I’ve only known her for what, not even six months - I know she’ll cry, Chris, I don’t want to be a dick -”
You start to pry his fingers off the edge of the covers. He struggles a bit, but he never wins in any physical conflict between you two, anyway. Half a minute later and you’re leaning over him, staring down into his eyes. His chest is rising and falling beneath your elbow, and you can feel the frustration in him.
“Listen, Moskovitz. If you love her, you’d ask her to understand what you’re doing. And if she loves you, she’d respect your decision and wish you the best of luck.” Then you quickly add, “Of course, the best scenario would be if she’s willing to follow you to Palo Alto. Have you even asked her anything?”
Dustin shakes his head, a little awkwardly and helplessly between your arms. His breath tickles your skin and already, you regret being too harsh on him. But he’s not the only one with boarded-up frustration and torn up by what to do or, not to do.
He shifts a little, obviously uncomfortable in the position of being stuck between the bed and your body with a flushed face and irregular heartbeat. Dustin looks too vulnerable and your head is not as clear as you’d like it to be.
“Chris?” He calls you softly, his voice as benign as the midnight hug you’ve been trying to forget. But how on earth am I supposed to let go? You think as you lower yourself, inch by inch.
His eyelashes are fluttering against your chin when a familiar voice barges in. “Dustin, Chris, why are you two still in bed?”
You both look up and see Mark standing at the door, Twizzler in hand, looking genuinely uninterested. You turn to look at Dustin but he looks away. You stands up straight to let him get up and get dressed.
Dustin says nothing, and you don’t bother to explain to Mark that you haven’t been in Dustin’s bed either. No matter how many times you find yourself secretly wishing for it.
The fourth time it almost happens.
The night before the Facebook crew board the flight to Palo Alto, Mark invites everyone to the bar for a farewell party. Well, you think, getting drunk on free booze is always better than last-minute packing.
To your surprise, Eduardo didn’t show. Mark has to go back early because he just thought of the solution to the bug that he’s been talking about for days, and that leaves you smirking at Dustin’s epic fail at beer pong. He looks like he’s having a good time, carefree and open like he always is. That vulnerable, confused boy who almost let you kiss him is nowhere in sight.
It’s been a week since then, and you’ve both managed to pretend like it never happened.
“Dude,” you grab his shoulder and laugh into his neck, “the interns totally owned your ass. It’s gonna be hard to establish yourself as their boss when we’re out there.”
Dustin finds a stool in the quiet corner and gestures for you to sit next to him. “Don’t you worry about respect - they are gonna be blown away when they see the Moskovitzard do his coding magic.” That crooked smile doesn’t last long on his goofy face. “Oh fuck, I can just feel the hangover kicking my ass on the plane tomorrow.”
You put a soothing palm on his back: “How much did you drink?”
“Well, I lost two rounds, so that’s…” Dustin pauses to do the multiplication, “12 beers, not counting the penalties.”
“Shit,” you laugh, “I’ll remind you to ask the stewardess for a doggie bag.”
“Thanks, Christopher,” Dustin slurs, “you never let me down.”
“Any time,” you say, in a softer voice, “you talked to Stephanie?”
Dustin wipes his mouth with his wrist, and looks down at his hands. “Talked to her yesterday. She cried, but she said she understands. She asked me if I’ll ever come back to Harvard, but…” You feel a damp hand on your thigh. “Honestly, Facebook is moving so fast right now I just…I don’t even feel like I’m in control of my own life.”
“It’s okay,” you sling an arm around his shoulder and pat his back, “we’re all in this together, man. Just know that I’m always, always here for you.”
“Geez, Chris, you’re such a sap.” There’s a strange feeling of relief in seeing that familiar goofy grin is back on Dustin’s face. “Of course I’ll be fine.” He bumps his knee into your thigh playfully, and suddenly your heart is beating too fast. You can’t take your eyes off of the blush on Dustin’s cheeks. His knee is still touching your leg. You try to move away from the contact (even though you really don’t want to), but you don’t even know how to position your legs anymore.
There’s an awkward pause, as Dustin turns around and gives you a concerned look. “Chris? Is the room too hot? You look kinda weird.”
“Ye-Yeah,” you stutter, “it’s too warm in here, there’re too many people. I’m just gonna go get some fresh air.”
“Hold on, I’ll come with you.”
You jump off your seat but you don’t dare to turn around, because you know he’s right behind you.
***
This is not the first time you’ve been alone together, but you feel like your heart is gonna pop out of your chest.
The night air is refreshingly cool. You take a seat on the fire escape stairs, and Dustin leans against the balcony, closing his eyes as the cool air ruffles through his hair. Heat rises on your cheeks, but you blame it on alcohol.
He opens his eyes and looks at you. You don’t turn away, holding his gaze because, no, you don’t want to run away anymore. Within this moment of silent exchange, you can convince yourself that maybe, just maybe, he understands how you feel.
“Chris,” he whispers, walking closer towards you. “Last Tuesday, if Mark didn’t come in…you were going to kiss me, right?” The last few words of the sentence are barely audible, but he’s already sitting next to you, hip to hip and knee to knee. The heat from his body is just too much, and you know you can’t keep it up anymore.
“Yeah, I was,” you turn to look into his eyes, your hands quivering a little at what you’re about to say. “Dustin. I…I’ve always had feelings for you. But there’s always some other girl on your mind, and…I don’t think I’ll ever get the chance.” To show you how much I want you. To show you how much I care.
“I know,” he says, giving your hand a solid squeeze. Somehow it doesn’t feel cold and sweaty anymore. “And I’m glad you’re telling me this. I’m glad it’s you.” He chuckles lightly, and you think your heart skipped a beat. “All of those other girls, I mean, they are great and all, but they are never fully in my life. You’re the only person who hates me for drinking all the orange juice but also buys it for me because you know I love it.”
You laugh, “I guess I am.”
“So, um,” he looks you in the eyes, with the sheepish, nervous grin that you know and love. “If you ever want to, I don’t know, give it a try, I guess I’m -”
“Oh, shut up,” you pull him close and gently put your hand on the back of his head. His hair feels as soft underneath your fingers as you dreamed it is.
But as you go in for the kiss, a sharp sound of beer bottles dropping on the floor explodes from the inside, along with the ridiculous laughter of some clearly intoxicated interns. They walk past the window and wave at you and Dustin. Dustin waves back; you try to smile and mask your intention to murder those kids.
“Hey guys, sorry about the broken glass!” a girl giggles as Dustin and you make your way inside, “did we interrupt anything?”
“It’s all right,” you say, making your way around the glass shards on the floor, “everything’s just peachy.”
Dustin grins at you like he’s never smiled so big in his life.
The fifth time it almost happens (but it will).
The pool at this house is so ridiculous. Basically, the fact that Mark has rented a house with a pool is beyond your understanding.
Of course, Dustin is totally thrilled.
“Chris, you gotta try the zipline!” He whines after you for the tenth time today.
“No.” You firmly decline for the tenth time, “I swear, that thing's gonna kill somebody one day.”
Dustin just sits there and looks at you, half-naked in his swim trunks and dripping wet. You try not to lose focus.
“Dustin, I’m working here.” You tear your eyes away from him and attempt to concentrate on the papers in front of you.
“Mark’s filming everyone’s jump, so you don’t have to worry about him firing you for slacking off or anything like that.” He grins, “Just one jump, please? I’ll make it worth your while.”
Well, he better, you think to yourself. The colour of those damp, rusty red strands under the California sun is quite distracting.
You sigh dramatically. “Fine. I’ll do it this afternoon after I’m done with the paperwork.”
“Yes!” His eyes light up with joy like a five-year-old before going outside again, and you can’t help but smile.
Somehow you’re not very surprised to hear the chimney collapse ten minutes later. You run outside to see the damages, and thankfully Dustin’s in one piece.
“You alright?”
“I’m okay, mom.”
You smack him lightly on the head. “Well, there goes my afternoon adventure. Do I still get my prize?”
You lean in for a quick kiss, but Dustin pulls away, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Well, you need to work for it.”
You smile and throw a towel at him. “I can’t wait.”
end :)