Explosions in the Sky (Schuyler/Kyle/Oliver) *WIP*
Story Title: Explosions in the Sky - Chapter Two (*WIP*)
Author's Name: rhombus_
Pairing: Schuyler/Kyle/Oliver
Rating: R
Warnings: non-canon pairing
Summary: Summer/Fall 2009. Subtract Nick, add Schuyler.
Disclaimer: Characters ≠ mine.
Previous Parts:
Chapter One - Sauna Me
Chapter Two - Space/Time
Schuyler
"Thanks for seeing me through everything with Stacy." Gigi smiled at him. A little sadly. "And for being so understanding."
God, he hated goodbyes. "Yeah, well... you-you take care." He leaned in for a hug, for one last touch, one final indulgence in his heart's careless mistake. It was the only way. No more Gigi. He was right; as soon as he kissed her, it was the end. They couldn't be friends. They couldn't pretend he didn't have feelings for her. The only thing to do was put space between them. Space and time.
But, oh, she was so warm in his arms.
Until the warmth was ripped away, replaced by chilly autumn air as he was spun and thrown.
"Get the hell off my girlfriend!" Rex's voice was almost as painful to his ears as the brick wall slamming against his cheekbone. "I've had enough of this crap!"
Schuyler blinked hard, fighting through the dull pain ringing through his head and the sharp sting of scratches along his skin. He took a deep breath before closing back in on Rex, getting between him and a clearly enraged Gigi.
It took all of his willpower to explain things with words instead of fists. He tried to speak slowly and clearly, just so Rex would get it through that thick skull of his. He wasn't going to be a problem anymore. He was saying goodbye. Giving up someone who meant more to him than he could possibly say, walking away, and all Rex could do was stand there and mug like a giant baboon.
"You're a regular saint," Rex sneered at him when he was done explaining.
Schuyler shook his head. "No. No, I'm-I'm not a saint. But you need to wake up and stop being so pissed off at me. Not for my sake; for your sake." He didn't know why he was doing it, why he was trying to help Rex of all people. He spared a quick glance at Gigi. She looked angry. But maybe-maybe a little heartbroken, too. He wanted to mend it for her. More than anything. No matter what it took, what he had to give up.
And if-if Rex Balsom was the one who could make her happy...
Schuyler sighed. He wanted to hate giving in. But it was easier. Easier than fighting. Years of addiction had taught him that. He glared at Rex, at the man who had everything he wanted, without having to work for it at all.
"You have this amazing woman who loves you more than anything else in the world. If-if you don't realize that, then you're a jackass."
More fighting. More posturing. More twitching and flailing and stupid faces. Though Schuyler had made up his mind, that didn't mean it wasn't still boggled. He really didn't understand what Gigi saw in Rex. Yeah, he had a good body, possibly a sense of humor under that caveman brow, but he was also a possessive, controlling asshole who never took responsibility for his actions, who hurt her over and over again. He wasn't the nice guy Gigi fell in love with. He couldn't be.
But... maybe if Schuyler took himself out of the equation, they'd go back to what they were... The perfect couple. Maybe Rex would be the man Gigi fell in love with again. There had to be something there. There had to be. He trusted Gigi to take care of herself. To know her own heart. If she wanted Rex, then Rex was what he would give her.
God, what a wounded martyr he made himself out to be. As if he were the big hero, doing what was best for the poor, helpless damsel. Gigi was a lot of things, but helpless wasn't one of them. It was what he loved most about her...
No. Not going down that road again.
He took one last look at her face. This was it. The end.
"Gigi, I just came to say goodbye." It was for the best. It hurt like hell, like withdrawal all over again, but it was for the best. For her, yes, but also for him. He couldn't keep putting himself out there for her just to get his face knocked into walls and his heart battered about. "I'm gonna miss our friendship. It really meant a lot to me." He turned to Rex, and fire flowed through his veins. "You are a lucky guy. Why not try to appreciate that? Appreciate her."
He walked off, and his head felt all hot with conflicting emotions. He barely realized where he was going or what he was doing. Time seemed to blip in and out of existence. Not that he wasn't used to the feeling. Just wasn't as fun as it used to be, back in Vegas.
Time blipped back into reality, and he found himself in the lobby of the hotel. Roxy stood behind the desk, dabbing the backs of her knuckles against her puffy, mascara-smeared cheeks. She looked a mess. He remembered then, seeing her storm out of Rodi's in tears. She had been a wild tornado then; now she looked small. Fragile.
"What are you looking at?" she snapped at him.
"Uh, nothing. Nothing." He averted his gaze from side to side, feeling all of a sudden under a spotlight. He had to say something to account for his being caught staring. He blurted out the first thing that came to him. "Have you seen Kyle around today?"
Roxy stopped. Stared. Her eyes were sharp little beads behind the sheen of tears.
"Hey. Don't go starting any trouble with him, Joplin. He's going through-" She sniffed, wiped away another smudged tear. "He's going through a rough time. People makes mistakes, y'know! They don't always tell you everything because-because they just can't! Doesn't mean the heart isn't in the right place. Doesn't mean you should shut them out."
Schuyler's brows pinched together. "Ohhhhhkay." He had a feeling Roxy was having a different conversation altogether. Possibly with someone who wasn't in the room. "So... Kyle's not around?"
Roxy grabbed a bottle from under the desk, screwed off the cap with amazing agility, and swallowed a large gulp, wiping her mouth sloppily with the back of her hand.
"I don't have GNP on the guy," she croaked out in that smoker's voice of hers.
"What?" Schuyler squinted at her. Now she was just talking total nonsense. He remembered what that was like.
"I'm not psycho. Don't got any crystal balls in the back." She gestured wildly behind her.
"Okay. Whatever." He shoved his hands in his pockets and started toward the stairs. Having a one-sided conversation with a drunkard wasn't worth the trouble, especially when he didn't particularly care where Kyle was. It had only been for cover anyway.
"Said he was going for a workout," Roxy said behind him. Schuyler stopped in his tracks. "Called me earlier. Said he needed to blow up some steam."
"Oh," Schuyler said, for lack of having anything else to say. He turned from the stairs and headed toward the exit instead. He had his hand on the knob when Roxy called out to him.
"Why you looking for him, anyway? Like I said, he doesn't need any more trouble, okay?"
Schuyler opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Why had he turned? Why had he asked? Now that he had an inkling of Kyle's whereabouts, he knew he was going to go find him. It just seemed... like the natural thing to do. The way Gigi used to seek him out when she needed to talk.
He closed his eyes tightly as his brain skidded to a halt. He and Kyle were nothing like him and Gigi.
Yeah, he heard a voice in his head say, sounding suspiciously low and raspy. Kyle actually kissed you back.
"He's been going to that gym a lot lately," Roxy said, breaking him out of his thoughts. She took another swig from her half-empty bottle. "Probably has some hunky new gym bunny working him out. Least I hope he does."
Schuyler couldn't stop the blush from racing across his cheeks. He ducked his head. "Thanks, Roxy. I, uh, I'm not gonna cause any trouble. I swear." She nodded at him absently, then went back to playing doting nursemaid with her bottle.
"He's not such a bad guy, you know," she said.
"Yeah," Schuyler replied quietly. "I know." He closed the door behind him.
Time was moving fast again. He felt like he hadn't stepped two feet outside the hotel when he was facing a wall of lockers at Serenity Springs. He poked his head onto the main floor of the gym, but didn't see that recognizable brown head of hair. A familiar voice drew him back into the locker room.
"...So you have sex with one girl and all the sudden, poof, you're not gay?"
Schuyler instinctively moved closer, staying out of sight. He wasn't trying to overhear, but it wasn't like Kyle was using his indoor voice anyway. Another voice piped up. It took him a moment to recognize it. The cop.
"...I thought that you should know that nothing could ever happen between you and me, and-and so you could move on. Are we cool?"
"You tell me that-that our relationship-the most meaningful relationship I've ever had in my life, by the way-was what? A layover for you? And then you ask me if we're cool? No, we're not cool."
Schuyler took a breath, trying to keep quiet. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest. They moved off, started whispering. He wanted to hear more, wanted to walk away, wanted to forget he'd heard what he'd heard. Listening in on private conversations wasn't exactly something to be proud of. He rested his head against the cold metal of a locker. Time was going all topsy-turvy on him again. His head ached from its abrupt meeting with the brick wall earlier. Blood throbbed through his temples, down to his jaw. He probably had a concussion. That was the only way to explain it. Why he wasn't moving off. Why he was straining to hear things that didn't involve him at all.
"...why would you want to help me?"
"'cause whether or not I like it or not, I-I still care about you."
Schuyler opened his eyes, stood up straight, looked toward the hall leading out of the locker room. Coming here, talking to Kyle-that was probably a bad idea. The guy obviously had his own problems. Had-had someone else to talk to already.
Kyle
He had so much hope in his chest, he thought his lungs might burst. Oliver was so close to letting all out, to finally admitting the truth. Here he was, in public-kind of-holding Kyle's hand, letting himself be comforted again.
Kyle didn't like hoping this much. It was the same way he felt in the alley when Oliver kissed him back. Before he was shoved away. Before Oliver broke his heart for the last time. Or so he'd thought.
Because like a curse falling from the sky, it happened all over again. Cristian butting in; Oliver pushing him away; Oliver lying; Oliver treating him like gum on the bottom of his shoe.
"Cut it out, man. Don't touch me!"
"What the hell are you-?"
Kyle held back the tears this time. It was easier. He was getting used to it.
And suddenly that wasn't okay. He didn't want to fall back into old habits. Didn't want to get sucked into Oliver's ongoing drama. He'd meant it in the alley. They were through. He couldn't keep harboring the stupid hope that if he stuck it out long enough, things would turn out okay for them. It hadn't worked in college, and he'd had four years to sit it out.
No. He had to cut Oliver out of his heart, once and for all. If Oliver could do it, then so could he.
So he did what he promised himself he'd never do, what he'd always hated Oliver for. He lied. About them. It was the only way. The only way to rid himself of the Oliver-shaped bruise on his heart.
Cris grilled them, in that bulldog protective way of his. Oliver looked so scared. It made Kyle's chest hurt. He did what he had to do-to push his own protective feelings away.
"He's in love with Layla. He's not gay. I guess he never was." He never took his eyes off Oliver. Watched him breathe out a small sigh of relief when Kyle covered for him. The eyes were still hard though. Still urging him on.
"But I thought you said the two of you had something going on in college."
"Yeah. In-in college, y'know, we'd get drunk and-" His throat dried up, making it hard to speak. "Y'know. I'd try to make a move on him, and he just wasn't interested." There was no going back now. He'd done it. And he hated Oliver for letting him do it. But he hated himself more. "And that's it. Sorry to cause you any trouble. Both of you."
The first step away was difficult. Heavy and slow. The next eased up a bit, and the next, as if he were shedding a heavy layer of skin with each movement. If that didn't put him out of his heart for good, watching Oliver stare at him with demanding, expectant eyes while he stripped all meaning from the only relationship that had ever meant anything to him at all-then he didn't know what would.
If anything, a distraction might help. He looked up and saw a familiar face heading toward the gym-proper. That hot guy who offered him a spot the other day. He hadn't given him much thought at the time-he'd still been so hung up on Oliver-but maybe he should've. Maybe that was just what he needed.
He smiled, halfheartedly admiring the man's physique as he approached. What had he said his name was again?
"Hey," Kyle said, getting his attention. "Nick, right?"
"Yeah," Nick said, smiling. He had incredibly white, straight teeth. "That's me. Though, I didn't catch your name last time." He practically purred it out, flexing muscles in his chest as if he were a preening bird. Kyle would've blushed, if his heart had been in the exchange at all. If he weren't just going through the motions.
"Nothing like a little mystery to ramp up interest, right? I'm K-" He stopped, noticing someone watching him out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head, expecting to see Oliver.
He certainly hadn't expected to see Schuyler Joplin turning away quickly, trying not to be noticed. That was... that was surprising. Also surprising-that angry red scrape along the length of his face.
"Kuh?" he heard Nick say with some confusion.
He realized he was still standing there with an open mouth. He summarily closed it, and then said, "Excuse me. I have to-I'm sorry." He gestured toward Schuyler and put on his most apologetic smile. Flirting with beefcakes just had to to wait a while.
Nick shrugged a shoulder and said, "Maybe later, Mystery Man," before wandering out toward the free weights.
Kyle approached Schuyler slowly, his hands in his pockets. He was sure it was only out of a sense of doctorly duty. Check the guy out, make sure he didn't need any medical help. That's all it was.
Finally up close, he could see a bruise starting to bloom under the nasty scrape. Schuyler dipped his head, looking at him almost... shyly. That was new.
"Hey," Schuyler said, still acting uncharacteristically embarrassed. Kyle swallowed hard, remembering that the last time he'd seen the guy, he'd been naked, and kissing him.
"Dude." Kyle waved a hand in front of Schuyler's face, trying to fend off his own unexplained nerves. "What happened to you?" Schuyler looked away, and it put a thought in Kyle's head. "That didn't happen when were, uh, y'know, fighting in the steam room the other day, did it?"
Schuyler shot him a pointed look, one that clearly said, Who's the one pretending now? After what Kyle just did in front of Cristian and Oliver, the look carried more weight than Schuyler could have imagined.
So, yeah. Time to stop preteding.
"Did I say fighting?" Kyle scratched his chin. "I meant fornicating."
That earned him a grin. Schuyler leaned the unbruised side of his head against the wall. "I got this earlier, down at Rodi's, from my best pal Rex Balsom." His voice went high and whiny when he said the name, and it was such a perfect impersonation of the other man that Kyle couldn't help but laugh.
"Even your best pals can't resist clocking you, huh?"
Schuyler rolled his eyes. They looked a little glazed over. Maybe the injury was a little more serious than Kyle thought.
"Hey," he said, gesturing around the room. "I'm done here. You have some time? I think you should get that looked at."
"It's fine."
"You should see a doctor."
"It's fine," Schuyler repeated emphatically.
"Well, at least let me take a look. I might not be your favorite person, but I'm pretty damn good at my job."
"What's that? Fixing lab results?"
"Gimme a break. If you're gonna get on my case, at least let it be for something I actually did."
Schuyler grinned. "Fair enough," he said, shrugging his assent.
Kyle looked around the room, then at his gym bag full of dirty clothes. "I don't have my stuff here. Let's go back to my place."
Raising an eyebrow, Schuyler said, "Are you propositioning me?"
A chuckle escaped. He couldn't help it. He wasn't really in the flirting mood, what with all the the crushing heartbreak, but damn it all if Schuyler didn't make for a good enough distraction.
"Let's just see where the medical exam takes us before you start fitting rings, okay?"
"Ass," Schuyler said.
"You want it so bad," Kyle replied with a grin.
Schuyler merely shook his head and rolled his eyes before following along after him.
The short walk back to the Angel Square Hotel was fraught with silence, but it wasn't so uncomfortable. It gave Kyle a chance to shut off his thoughts for once, just breathe in crisp air and look at the first hint of the changing color of the trees. His shoulder accidentally bumped against Schuyler's once or twice on the way, but it felt... kinda nice. Warm. The kind of warmth that came from intimacy.
It was strange.
But still okay, somehow.
God, it'd been too long since he'd let himself grow comfortable with another man. It was easy enough to have sex with the guy when they were both angry and riled up; why was a simple, quiet walk giving him so much thought?
They reached the hotel, entered the lobby, climbed the stairs to the second floor. Kyle stood in front of his door, feeling his palms grow sweaty.
"Well, here we are," he said nervously, as if Schuyler had just walked him home after their first date.
"Yeah, that's great Kyle. We going in, or what?"
That knocked some sense into Kyle. He rolled his eyes at himself, unlocked the door, and pushed in. He kept his room relatively clean, but he still eyed it warily, making sure there wasn't anything embarrassing lying around, like dirty underpants or moldy food containers. Satisfied with it, he moved aside and let Schuyler enter. He motioned for him to sit on the end of the bed while he grabbed a medicine bag out of the bureau.
"So, what exactly happened here, buddy?" he said, kneeling in front of Schuyler and dabbing his scraped cheek with antiseptic. "You insult Rex's hair? Because if he's anything like Roxy, that's a cardinal sin."
A small grin graced Schuyler's face, then faded. "I wish. He just... He gets a bit territorial with the girlfriend. Caught me hugging Gigi goodbye. As friends. Thought my face would look better with a brick wall smacked up against it, I guess."
Kyle squinted at him. He didn't realize Rex and Gigi were on again. He didn't care, but he also didn't realize.
"I thought you and Gigi were, y'know, together."
Schuyler looked at him like he was a mental patient. "Why would you think that after the steam room?"
"Oh yeah." Kyle chuckled. "Good point."
"And what about you? How're things going with the cop?"
Kyle stopped dabbing. His tentative good mood suddenly dried up. "That's none of your business."
"Okay, okay." Schuyler lifted his hands in an I-give-in gesture. "No need to get all surly about it. Just an innocent question."
Kyle regarded him for a moment, silent. An innocent question, or was he fishing for information? There was something in the way Schuyler's beady little eyes were nervously ticking back and forth... Like he was trying not to show how much he cared about the answer.
Interesting. And worth finding more about. Kyle decided to throw him a bone.
"Things aren't going." He took a deep breath and studied Schuyler's measured reaction. "With the cop, I mean." Tilting his head, he gave a friendly pat to Schuyler's knee. "Unlike you, he's actually got a girlfriend."
"Low blow, dude," Schuyler said. Which made the 12 year old in Kyle chuckle.
Kyle fished a pen light out of his pocket and flashed it in Schuyler's eyes. The pupils dilated as normal. Probably didn't have a concussion. "What year is it?" he asked, just to make sure.
"2009."
Kyle nodded, then continued on as if they hadn't been interrupted by routine medical procedure. "Anyway, there's nothing to do about it. He's not interested."
"But you are?" Schuyler looked him straight in the eyes. It made Kyle blink as sharply as if Schuyler had his own pen light shining on him.
It unnerved Kyle, to say the least.
"Okay. That's enough about my love life, doncha think?" Kyle said, bouncing to his feet. "I don't think you have a concussion, and the scrape looks fine. Make sure to keep it clean, so it doesn't get infected, okay?"
Schuyler stood as well. "Yeah, I know the drill. I used to be a med student."
"Really? I didn't know that. I just thought you were a professional meddler."
"And I just thought you were a blackmailer."
Kyle smiled. "Blackmailing is strictly a side-business."
Schuyler smiled back.
Carried away on a sudden flight of fancy, he imagined himself and Schuyler walking along a foggy tarmac, decked out in fedoras and trench coats. If he started calling him Louis, he was going to have his own head checked.
But still...
Maybe it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
(...TBC...)
Chapter Three - Experience: Part 1
Author's Name: rhombus_
Pairing: Schuyler/Kyle/Oliver
Rating: R
Warnings: non-canon pairing
Summary: Summer/Fall 2009. Subtract Nick, add Schuyler.
Disclaimer: Characters ≠ mine.
Previous Parts:
Chapter One - Sauna Me
Chapter Two - Space/Time
Schuyler
"Thanks for seeing me through everything with Stacy." Gigi smiled at him. A little sadly. "And for being so understanding."
God, he hated goodbyes. "Yeah, well... you-you take care." He leaned in for a hug, for one last touch, one final indulgence in his heart's careless mistake. It was the only way. No more Gigi. He was right; as soon as he kissed her, it was the end. They couldn't be friends. They couldn't pretend he didn't have feelings for her. The only thing to do was put space between them. Space and time.
But, oh, she was so warm in his arms.
Until the warmth was ripped away, replaced by chilly autumn air as he was spun and thrown.
"Get the hell off my girlfriend!" Rex's voice was almost as painful to his ears as the brick wall slamming against his cheekbone. "I've had enough of this crap!"
Schuyler blinked hard, fighting through the dull pain ringing through his head and the sharp sting of scratches along his skin. He took a deep breath before closing back in on Rex, getting between him and a clearly enraged Gigi.
It took all of his willpower to explain things with words instead of fists. He tried to speak slowly and clearly, just so Rex would get it through that thick skull of his. He wasn't going to be a problem anymore. He was saying goodbye. Giving up someone who meant more to him than he could possibly say, walking away, and all Rex could do was stand there and mug like a giant baboon.
"You're a regular saint," Rex sneered at him when he was done explaining.
Schuyler shook his head. "No. No, I'm-I'm not a saint. But you need to wake up and stop being so pissed off at me. Not for my sake; for your sake." He didn't know why he was doing it, why he was trying to help Rex of all people. He spared a quick glance at Gigi. She looked angry. But maybe-maybe a little heartbroken, too. He wanted to mend it for her. More than anything. No matter what it took, what he had to give up.
And if-if Rex Balsom was the one who could make her happy...
Schuyler sighed. He wanted to hate giving in. But it was easier. Easier than fighting. Years of addiction had taught him that. He glared at Rex, at the man who had everything he wanted, without having to work for it at all.
"You have this amazing woman who loves you more than anything else in the world. If-if you don't realize that, then you're a jackass."
More fighting. More posturing. More twitching and flailing and stupid faces. Though Schuyler had made up his mind, that didn't mean it wasn't still boggled. He really didn't understand what Gigi saw in Rex. Yeah, he had a good body, possibly a sense of humor under that caveman brow, but he was also a possessive, controlling asshole who never took responsibility for his actions, who hurt her over and over again. He wasn't the nice guy Gigi fell in love with. He couldn't be.
But... maybe if Schuyler took himself out of the equation, they'd go back to what they were... The perfect couple. Maybe Rex would be the man Gigi fell in love with again. There had to be something there. There had to be. He trusted Gigi to take care of herself. To know her own heart. If she wanted Rex, then Rex was what he would give her.
God, what a wounded martyr he made himself out to be. As if he were the big hero, doing what was best for the poor, helpless damsel. Gigi was a lot of things, but helpless wasn't one of them. It was what he loved most about her...
No. Not going down that road again.
He took one last look at her face. This was it. The end.
"Gigi, I just came to say goodbye." It was for the best. It hurt like hell, like withdrawal all over again, but it was for the best. For her, yes, but also for him. He couldn't keep putting himself out there for her just to get his face knocked into walls and his heart battered about. "I'm gonna miss our friendship. It really meant a lot to me." He turned to Rex, and fire flowed through his veins. "You are a lucky guy. Why not try to appreciate that? Appreciate her."
He walked off, and his head felt all hot with conflicting emotions. He barely realized where he was going or what he was doing. Time seemed to blip in and out of existence. Not that he wasn't used to the feeling. Just wasn't as fun as it used to be, back in Vegas.
Time blipped back into reality, and he found himself in the lobby of the hotel. Roxy stood behind the desk, dabbing the backs of her knuckles against her puffy, mascara-smeared cheeks. She looked a mess. He remembered then, seeing her storm out of Rodi's in tears. She had been a wild tornado then; now she looked small. Fragile.
"What are you looking at?" she snapped at him.
"Uh, nothing. Nothing." He averted his gaze from side to side, feeling all of a sudden under a spotlight. He had to say something to account for his being caught staring. He blurted out the first thing that came to him. "Have you seen Kyle around today?"
Roxy stopped. Stared. Her eyes were sharp little beads behind the sheen of tears.
"Hey. Don't go starting any trouble with him, Joplin. He's going through-" She sniffed, wiped away another smudged tear. "He's going through a rough time. People makes mistakes, y'know! They don't always tell you everything because-because they just can't! Doesn't mean the heart isn't in the right place. Doesn't mean you should shut them out."
Schuyler's brows pinched together. "Ohhhhhkay." He had a feeling Roxy was having a different conversation altogether. Possibly with someone who wasn't in the room. "So... Kyle's not around?"
Roxy grabbed a bottle from under the desk, screwed off the cap with amazing agility, and swallowed a large gulp, wiping her mouth sloppily with the back of her hand.
"I don't have GNP on the guy," she croaked out in that smoker's voice of hers.
"What?" Schuyler squinted at her. Now she was just talking total nonsense. He remembered what that was like.
"I'm not psycho. Don't got any crystal balls in the back." She gestured wildly behind her.
"Okay. Whatever." He shoved his hands in his pockets and started toward the stairs. Having a one-sided conversation with a drunkard wasn't worth the trouble, especially when he didn't particularly care where Kyle was. It had only been for cover anyway.
"Said he was going for a workout," Roxy said behind him. Schuyler stopped in his tracks. "Called me earlier. Said he needed to blow up some steam."
"Oh," Schuyler said, for lack of having anything else to say. He turned from the stairs and headed toward the exit instead. He had his hand on the knob when Roxy called out to him.
"Why you looking for him, anyway? Like I said, he doesn't need any more trouble, okay?"
Schuyler opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Why had he turned? Why had he asked? Now that he had an inkling of Kyle's whereabouts, he knew he was going to go find him. It just seemed... like the natural thing to do. The way Gigi used to seek him out when she needed to talk.
He closed his eyes tightly as his brain skidded to a halt. He and Kyle were nothing like him and Gigi.
Yeah, he heard a voice in his head say, sounding suspiciously low and raspy. Kyle actually kissed you back.
"He's been going to that gym a lot lately," Roxy said, breaking him out of his thoughts. She took another swig from her half-empty bottle. "Probably has some hunky new gym bunny working him out. Least I hope he does."
Schuyler couldn't stop the blush from racing across his cheeks. He ducked his head. "Thanks, Roxy. I, uh, I'm not gonna cause any trouble. I swear." She nodded at him absently, then went back to playing doting nursemaid with her bottle.
"He's not such a bad guy, you know," she said.
"Yeah," Schuyler replied quietly. "I know." He closed the door behind him.
Time was moving fast again. He felt like he hadn't stepped two feet outside the hotel when he was facing a wall of lockers at Serenity Springs. He poked his head onto the main floor of the gym, but didn't see that recognizable brown head of hair. A familiar voice drew him back into the locker room.
"...So you have sex with one girl and all the sudden, poof, you're not gay?"
Schuyler instinctively moved closer, staying out of sight. He wasn't trying to overhear, but it wasn't like Kyle was using his indoor voice anyway. Another voice piped up. It took him a moment to recognize it. The cop.
"...I thought that you should know that nothing could ever happen between you and me, and-and so you could move on. Are we cool?"
"You tell me that-that our relationship-the most meaningful relationship I've ever had in my life, by the way-was what? A layover for you? And then you ask me if we're cool? No, we're not cool."
Schuyler took a breath, trying to keep quiet. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest. They moved off, started whispering. He wanted to hear more, wanted to walk away, wanted to forget he'd heard what he'd heard. Listening in on private conversations wasn't exactly something to be proud of. He rested his head against the cold metal of a locker. Time was going all topsy-turvy on him again. His head ached from its abrupt meeting with the brick wall earlier. Blood throbbed through his temples, down to his jaw. He probably had a concussion. That was the only way to explain it. Why he wasn't moving off. Why he was straining to hear things that didn't involve him at all.
"...why would you want to help me?"
"'cause whether or not I like it or not, I-I still care about you."
Schuyler opened his eyes, stood up straight, looked toward the hall leading out of the locker room. Coming here, talking to Kyle-that was probably a bad idea. The guy obviously had his own problems. Had-had someone else to talk to already.
Kyle
He had so much hope in his chest, he thought his lungs might burst. Oliver was so close to letting all out, to finally admitting the truth. Here he was, in public-kind of-holding Kyle's hand, letting himself be comforted again.
Kyle didn't like hoping this much. It was the same way he felt in the alley when Oliver kissed him back. Before he was shoved away. Before Oliver broke his heart for the last time. Or so he'd thought.
Because like a curse falling from the sky, it happened all over again. Cristian butting in; Oliver pushing him away; Oliver lying; Oliver treating him like gum on the bottom of his shoe.
"Cut it out, man. Don't touch me!"
"What the hell are you-?"
Kyle held back the tears this time. It was easier. He was getting used to it.
And suddenly that wasn't okay. He didn't want to fall back into old habits. Didn't want to get sucked into Oliver's ongoing drama. He'd meant it in the alley. They were through. He couldn't keep harboring the stupid hope that if he stuck it out long enough, things would turn out okay for them. It hadn't worked in college, and he'd had four years to sit it out.
No. He had to cut Oliver out of his heart, once and for all. If Oliver could do it, then so could he.
So he did what he promised himself he'd never do, what he'd always hated Oliver for. He lied. About them. It was the only way. The only way to rid himself of the Oliver-shaped bruise on his heart.
Cris grilled them, in that bulldog protective way of his. Oliver looked so scared. It made Kyle's chest hurt. He did what he had to do-to push his own protective feelings away.
"He's in love with Layla. He's not gay. I guess he never was." He never took his eyes off Oliver. Watched him breathe out a small sigh of relief when Kyle covered for him. The eyes were still hard though. Still urging him on.
"But I thought you said the two of you had something going on in college."
"Yeah. In-in college, y'know, we'd get drunk and-" His throat dried up, making it hard to speak. "Y'know. I'd try to make a move on him, and he just wasn't interested." There was no going back now. He'd done it. And he hated Oliver for letting him do it. But he hated himself more. "And that's it. Sorry to cause you any trouble. Both of you."
The first step away was difficult. Heavy and slow. The next eased up a bit, and the next, as if he were shedding a heavy layer of skin with each movement. If that didn't put him out of his heart for good, watching Oliver stare at him with demanding, expectant eyes while he stripped all meaning from the only relationship that had ever meant anything to him at all-then he didn't know what would.
If anything, a distraction might help. He looked up and saw a familiar face heading toward the gym-proper. That hot guy who offered him a spot the other day. He hadn't given him much thought at the time-he'd still been so hung up on Oliver-but maybe he should've. Maybe that was just what he needed.
He smiled, halfheartedly admiring the man's physique as he approached. What had he said his name was again?
"Hey," Kyle said, getting his attention. "Nick, right?"
"Yeah," Nick said, smiling. He had incredibly white, straight teeth. "That's me. Though, I didn't catch your name last time." He practically purred it out, flexing muscles in his chest as if he were a preening bird. Kyle would've blushed, if his heart had been in the exchange at all. If he weren't just going through the motions.
"Nothing like a little mystery to ramp up interest, right? I'm K-" He stopped, noticing someone watching him out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head, expecting to see Oliver.
He certainly hadn't expected to see Schuyler Joplin turning away quickly, trying not to be noticed. That was... that was surprising. Also surprising-that angry red scrape along the length of his face.
"Kuh?" he heard Nick say with some confusion.
He realized he was still standing there with an open mouth. He summarily closed it, and then said, "Excuse me. I have to-I'm sorry." He gestured toward Schuyler and put on his most apologetic smile. Flirting with beefcakes just had to to wait a while.
Nick shrugged a shoulder and said, "Maybe later, Mystery Man," before wandering out toward the free weights.
Kyle approached Schuyler slowly, his hands in his pockets. He was sure it was only out of a sense of doctorly duty. Check the guy out, make sure he didn't need any medical help. That's all it was.
Finally up close, he could see a bruise starting to bloom under the nasty scrape. Schuyler dipped his head, looking at him almost... shyly. That was new.
"Hey," Schuyler said, still acting uncharacteristically embarrassed. Kyle swallowed hard, remembering that the last time he'd seen the guy, he'd been naked, and kissing him.
"Dude." Kyle waved a hand in front of Schuyler's face, trying to fend off his own unexplained nerves. "What happened to you?" Schuyler looked away, and it put a thought in Kyle's head. "That didn't happen when were, uh, y'know, fighting in the steam room the other day, did it?"
Schuyler shot him a pointed look, one that clearly said, Who's the one pretending now? After what Kyle just did in front of Cristian and Oliver, the look carried more weight than Schuyler could have imagined.
So, yeah. Time to stop preteding.
"Did I say fighting?" Kyle scratched his chin. "I meant fornicating."
That earned him a grin. Schuyler leaned the unbruised side of his head against the wall. "I got this earlier, down at Rodi's, from my best pal Rex Balsom." His voice went high and whiny when he said the name, and it was such a perfect impersonation of the other man that Kyle couldn't help but laugh.
"Even your best pals can't resist clocking you, huh?"
Schuyler rolled his eyes. They looked a little glazed over. Maybe the injury was a little more serious than Kyle thought.
"Hey," he said, gesturing around the room. "I'm done here. You have some time? I think you should get that looked at."
"It's fine."
"You should see a doctor."
"It's fine," Schuyler repeated emphatically.
"Well, at least let me take a look. I might not be your favorite person, but I'm pretty damn good at my job."
"What's that? Fixing lab results?"
"Gimme a break. If you're gonna get on my case, at least let it be for something I actually did."
Schuyler grinned. "Fair enough," he said, shrugging his assent.
Kyle looked around the room, then at his gym bag full of dirty clothes. "I don't have my stuff here. Let's go back to my place."
Raising an eyebrow, Schuyler said, "Are you propositioning me?"
A chuckle escaped. He couldn't help it. He wasn't really in the flirting mood, what with all the the crushing heartbreak, but damn it all if Schuyler didn't make for a good enough distraction.
"Let's just see where the medical exam takes us before you start fitting rings, okay?"
"Ass," Schuyler said.
"You want it so bad," Kyle replied with a grin.
Schuyler merely shook his head and rolled his eyes before following along after him.
The short walk back to the Angel Square Hotel was fraught with silence, but it wasn't so uncomfortable. It gave Kyle a chance to shut off his thoughts for once, just breathe in crisp air and look at the first hint of the changing color of the trees. His shoulder accidentally bumped against Schuyler's once or twice on the way, but it felt... kinda nice. Warm. The kind of warmth that came from intimacy.
It was strange.
But still okay, somehow.
God, it'd been too long since he'd let himself grow comfortable with another man. It was easy enough to have sex with the guy when they were both angry and riled up; why was a simple, quiet walk giving him so much thought?
They reached the hotel, entered the lobby, climbed the stairs to the second floor. Kyle stood in front of his door, feeling his palms grow sweaty.
"Well, here we are," he said nervously, as if Schuyler had just walked him home after their first date.
"Yeah, that's great Kyle. We going in, or what?"
That knocked some sense into Kyle. He rolled his eyes at himself, unlocked the door, and pushed in. He kept his room relatively clean, but he still eyed it warily, making sure there wasn't anything embarrassing lying around, like dirty underpants or moldy food containers. Satisfied with it, he moved aside and let Schuyler enter. He motioned for him to sit on the end of the bed while he grabbed a medicine bag out of the bureau.
"So, what exactly happened here, buddy?" he said, kneeling in front of Schuyler and dabbing his scraped cheek with antiseptic. "You insult Rex's hair? Because if he's anything like Roxy, that's a cardinal sin."
A small grin graced Schuyler's face, then faded. "I wish. He just... He gets a bit territorial with the girlfriend. Caught me hugging Gigi goodbye. As friends. Thought my face would look better with a brick wall smacked up against it, I guess."
Kyle squinted at him. He didn't realize Rex and Gigi were on again. He didn't care, but he also didn't realize.
"I thought you and Gigi were, y'know, together."
Schuyler looked at him like he was a mental patient. "Why would you think that after the steam room?"
"Oh yeah." Kyle chuckled. "Good point."
"And what about you? How're things going with the cop?"
Kyle stopped dabbing. His tentative good mood suddenly dried up. "That's none of your business."
"Okay, okay." Schuyler lifted his hands in an I-give-in gesture. "No need to get all surly about it. Just an innocent question."
Kyle regarded him for a moment, silent. An innocent question, or was he fishing for information? There was something in the way Schuyler's beady little eyes were nervously ticking back and forth... Like he was trying not to show how much he cared about the answer.
Interesting. And worth finding more about. Kyle decided to throw him a bone.
"Things aren't going." He took a deep breath and studied Schuyler's measured reaction. "With the cop, I mean." Tilting his head, he gave a friendly pat to Schuyler's knee. "Unlike you, he's actually got a girlfriend."
"Low blow, dude," Schuyler said. Which made the 12 year old in Kyle chuckle.
Kyle fished a pen light out of his pocket and flashed it in Schuyler's eyes. The pupils dilated as normal. Probably didn't have a concussion. "What year is it?" he asked, just to make sure.
"2009."
Kyle nodded, then continued on as if they hadn't been interrupted by routine medical procedure. "Anyway, there's nothing to do about it. He's not interested."
"But you are?" Schuyler looked him straight in the eyes. It made Kyle blink as sharply as if Schuyler had his own pen light shining on him.
It unnerved Kyle, to say the least.
"Okay. That's enough about my love life, doncha think?" Kyle said, bouncing to his feet. "I don't think you have a concussion, and the scrape looks fine. Make sure to keep it clean, so it doesn't get infected, okay?"
Schuyler stood as well. "Yeah, I know the drill. I used to be a med student."
"Really? I didn't know that. I just thought you were a professional meddler."
"And I just thought you were a blackmailer."
Kyle smiled. "Blackmailing is strictly a side-business."
Schuyler smiled back.
Carried away on a sudden flight of fancy, he imagined himself and Schuyler walking along a foggy tarmac, decked out in fedoras and trench coats. If he started calling him Louis, he was going to have his own head checked.
But still...
Maybe it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
(...TBC...)
Chapter Three - Experience: Part 1