ORIGINAL: BREATHE (SLASH)
Oh dear. Warnings for length. I just don't feel like I can cut anything out, though. Ergo, caveat lector. Or, in other words, don't read if you can't handle the word count. (I really hope you can handle, it though)
Summary: Sometimes it takes a while to realize love is right in front of you. Of course, fourteen years is a little excessive, but who's counting?
"So where do you want to go tonight?" Nick kicks my ankle gently in the soft darkness of the cab to make sure I'm paying attention. Probably a good idea. I'm not generally known for my focus.
I blink blearily, turning from the window where I had been watching the city streets pass by in a blur of colored lights. "What do you mean?" I ask. "I thought we were going to dinner."
He laughs softly. "Well yeah. But what do you want to do after that? It's your birthday. You always want to party on your birthday. Paint the town, so to speak." He waits with a patient smile as I frown back.
"Don't you think I’m getting a little old for that?" I ask. I know I sound petulant, but it's my birthday after all.
And anyways, Nick is used to my attitude. He just laughs again and ruffles my hair a little because he knows it annoys me. "Twenty seven is hardly old. Wait until you get to thirty. It'll really catch up to you then. Seriously, though, what do you want to do after dinner? A club? Or just some bars? The girls breathlessly await your call. You know they're always ready to party. And Frank was just saying there was a nice bar that just opened up on Colfax. Lots of cute guys."
I can feel myself flinch a little and I turn to continue staring out the window. I'm beginning to recognize the buildings. We must be almost to the restaurant. I know Nick is still waiting for an answer, but I can't figure out what I want to say. This is what, the fifteenth birthday he has spent with me? I've lost track over the years. They have begun to run together, each the same as the last.
The first few had been fun, filled with water fights and amusement parks. There had been birthday parties, of course, but never on my actual birthday. That day was special, reserved for family. It had been my twelfth birthday when Nick had moved to the neighborhood and my mother had taken pity on the lonely boy, inviting him to our family trip to the zoo. The day had started rough, mostly because I had almost immediately pushed him into a mud puddle to prove who was in charge. But I had been secretly delighted when he had just laughed and thrown a huge handful of mud at the hideous green striped shirt Aunt Meryl had sent for my birthday. By the end of the day we had been best friends.
The teenage birthdays had grown slowly awkward, and then less so when we had both admitted we might be more than a little interested in each other. Mom had been thrilled, said she had always known it would happen. His father had frowned and pretended the relationship didn't exist.
"Do you remember my eighteenth birthday?" I ask quietly. My face is so close to the window of the cab that I see my breath fog briefly. It's too warm for the condensation to last, though, and it disappears just as quickly. I lean back a little and I can see Nick's reflection in the window. I can tell that he's staring at the back of my head.
"Of course," he murmurs just as quietly. I know it's a painful subject, but I can't help prodding anyway.
"You know, I didn't think we'd spend any more birthdays together after that." I can't see his face clearly enough in the reflection to make out his expression, but I know he's surprised.
"Why would you think that?" He makes my question sound ridiculous, and I suppose it is to him. He has his own way of looking at things, a calm understanding of his world that I never seem to be able to shake.
It had seemed the most logical thing in the world, the summer before we went to college. We were going to be five hundred miles apart, would probably only see each other over holidays and perhaps summers. And I had heard such amazing things about dating college. All those options. It had seemed silly to try to keep a relationship over such a distance. I had known I was breaking his heart, but only because we had been best friends before we were lovers. To an untrained eye he had simply seemed accepting, as though he had been expecting it. I had almost taken the words back, but he had just smiled and kissed my cheek and that was that.
I remember that he has asked me a question, but I ignore it for a moment. "What about my nineteenth birthday? You never explained why you drove eight hours just to come home and see me." I had hated admitting even to myself how devastated I had been that he had chosen to stay at school that summer. I had understood, of course. Only Nick would get an internship after his freshman year. But I had not realized until I had come home that summer how much I had been looking forward to seeing him again. How much I had missed him.
I had been working myself into a fine fit of teenage angst, convinced that I was unloved and unappreciated as I prepared to spend my birthday single and alone. Mom had been ready to smack me and kick me out of the house when he had shown up in his ugly green Honda, explaining that he had found someone to cover the afternoon for him. I'd just gaped at him until he laughed and dragged me to the car. We had found a quiet bar and drunk steadily, talking as though the year hadn't passed. At midnight he had taken me home, kissed my cheek, and driven back to school to be at work by nine.
My vision sharpens to focus on his reflection again as he shrugs. "It just seemed appropriate. I hadn't missed a birthday yet. And Annie had mentioned you were single, so I knew you'd be lonely."
I snort. Of course my sister would feel it necessary to tattle on my love life. She had been just as pissed as mom when I had broken it off with Nick. I flop back in my seat and let my head loll to the side so I can look him in the eyes. He looks a little tired, and I know he's got to be working too much. It's easier to keep tabs on him now that we live in the same city again, but it's not really my place to lecture him on late hours anymore. Not for a long time now.
"Is Craig coming out tonight?" I ask in what I hope is a nonchalant tone, shifting to look through the windshield. We're only a mile or so from the restaurant now; I can almost see the cross street ahead. It will probably take another ten minutes, though, in this traffic. I have a vague idea there's a baseball game tonight, and that always makes for terrible traffic.
I can feel Nick's eyes on my face as he answers my question carefully. "He might come out. I don't have to call him if you don't want me to. It's your birthday."
Of course I don't want him to come out. I'd really prefer he dropped off the face of the earth if I'm being honest. I keep my lips closed tight, though, and graciously keep from voicing my opinion. Nick knows how I feel anyway, though. He's uncanny like that.
"Why don't you like Craig?" he asks me curiously.
Because you like him a lot, I think to myself. I resolutely bite my tongue. This is the first time I've felt like Nick is letting me go. I've always sort of known in the back of my mind that he still held on to those teenage feelings. It's been something I can count on for almost a decade. No matter how roughly I treat him, Nick is always kind, always loving. Always there. Pretty soon, though, I get the feeling that will start to change.
He sighs a little, and I know he's frustrated with me. I know I'm being particularly difficult tonight, but I can't help it. There's this feeling of discontent that sits heavy in my chest and I try to ignore it. Even I know it's a little unfair to realize now just how much I miss him.
He reaches out and grabs my hand, squeezing a little. "You can tell the truth, you know." There's exasperation in his voice, but there's also fondness. I frown a little and lean against him.
"Truth, hmm? Too tricky. It's easier to just fib." I can feel him laugh a little against me, but the sound is little more than breath on my neck. It tickles and makes my hair stand pleasantly on end.
"It's a hard concept, but you can try," he reassures me. His thumb is tracing circles on my hand and I have the sudden, uncomfortable feeling that he knows exactly what I want to say.
It makes me swallow against tears. My brain jumps between a few thoughts, and my heart races to keep up with it. He always knows exactly how I feel. And if he always knows how I feel, he probably knows what's going through my head at this moment. And if that's true, he either is getting ready to gently let me down or…something else. The hand gripping mine and the breath against my neck makes me lean toward "something else," but I've never been able to read Nick quite as well as he can read me.
I'm a little embarrassed and turn my face into his neck. "I miss you," I mumble into his skin.
He shifts a little so that I'm resting more comfortably. "I'm right here," he assures me.
"That's not what I mean," I huff, pinching his arm.
"Oh?" he asks mildly. "What do you mean, then?" I think I can hear laughter in his voice, but it's hard to tell.
I remind myself to breathe, then take my own advice. For several seconds I just breathe in and out. Finally I work up the energy to speak. "What would you say if I told you I was sorry? For all those years ago? That I might have let my head do the thinking instead of my heart."
There's not a twitch out of him, he freezes so completely against me. I feel like I'm calling his bluff, like he didn't really feel like I would admit anything. "What exactly are you saying?" he asks very carefully.
I let it all out in a rush. At least we're almost to the restaurant. If it goes badly, I can just hop out of the cab and he can go home to Craig, save us both the embarrassment of staring at each other for an evening. "I guess I'm saying that I really miss you. All these years you've been here, stood the test of time no matter how I treated you. But now I feel like you're letting me go and I hate it." I suck in another breath. "I feel hollow without you. Empty. It's trite, I know. But it's true."
His arm tightens around me and his hand grips my own, but he stays silent. Desperately I keep trying to breathe and ask, "Aren't you going to say anything?"
His breath is close enough to ruffle my hair as he answers. "I'm still waiting for something," he murmurs.
I'm quiet for a long moment until it finally comes to me what he's waiting for. "I'm in love with you?" I offer tentatively.
I can feel his lips against the top of my head as he smiles. "That's the one," he says happily. Leaning forward, he carefully dislodges me and gives the cab driver a new address. Then he falls back against the seat and gathers me against him. "It's about time. I'd almost given up waiting."
I look at him in amazement. "Where are we going?"
He blinks and then laughs. "Home of course. You think we're going out after that confession? I waited nine years for you to come to your sense."
"What about Craig?"
"Oh. Him. He's been gone for a while." He smiles mischievously and leans his forehead to rest against mine. "But it was so obviously upsetting you that I couldn't let you know. I was hoping it would be enough to finally goad you into action."
I forget about breathing entirely as he kisses me. I have enough presence of mind to realize that of all the fourteen birthdays we've spent together, I think this is the absolute best. Even better than mud baths. Even that tenuous thought vanishes, though, as we put the long cab ride home to good use.
Summary: Sometimes it takes a while to realize love is right in front of you. Of course, fourteen years is a little excessive, but who's counting?
"So where do you want to go tonight?" Nick kicks my ankle gently in the soft darkness of the cab to make sure I'm paying attention. Probably a good idea. I'm not generally known for my focus.
I blink blearily, turning from the window where I had been watching the city streets pass by in a blur of colored lights. "What do you mean?" I ask. "I thought we were going to dinner."
He laughs softly. "Well yeah. But what do you want to do after that? It's your birthday. You always want to party on your birthday. Paint the town, so to speak." He waits with a patient smile as I frown back.
"Don't you think I’m getting a little old for that?" I ask. I know I sound petulant, but it's my birthday after all.
And anyways, Nick is used to my attitude. He just laughs again and ruffles my hair a little because he knows it annoys me. "Twenty seven is hardly old. Wait until you get to thirty. It'll really catch up to you then. Seriously, though, what do you want to do after dinner? A club? Or just some bars? The girls breathlessly await your call. You know they're always ready to party. And Frank was just saying there was a nice bar that just opened up on Colfax. Lots of cute guys."
I can feel myself flinch a little and I turn to continue staring out the window. I'm beginning to recognize the buildings. We must be almost to the restaurant. I know Nick is still waiting for an answer, but I can't figure out what I want to say. This is what, the fifteenth birthday he has spent with me? I've lost track over the years. They have begun to run together, each the same as the last.
The first few had been fun, filled with water fights and amusement parks. There had been birthday parties, of course, but never on my actual birthday. That day was special, reserved for family. It had been my twelfth birthday when Nick had moved to the neighborhood and my mother had taken pity on the lonely boy, inviting him to our family trip to the zoo. The day had started rough, mostly because I had almost immediately pushed him into a mud puddle to prove who was in charge. But I had been secretly delighted when he had just laughed and thrown a huge handful of mud at the hideous green striped shirt Aunt Meryl had sent for my birthday. By the end of the day we had been best friends.
The teenage birthdays had grown slowly awkward, and then less so when we had both admitted we might be more than a little interested in each other. Mom had been thrilled, said she had always known it would happen. His father had frowned and pretended the relationship didn't exist.
"Do you remember my eighteenth birthday?" I ask quietly. My face is so close to the window of the cab that I see my breath fog briefly. It's too warm for the condensation to last, though, and it disappears just as quickly. I lean back a little and I can see Nick's reflection in the window. I can tell that he's staring at the back of my head.
"Of course," he murmurs just as quietly. I know it's a painful subject, but I can't help prodding anyway.
"You know, I didn't think we'd spend any more birthdays together after that." I can't see his face clearly enough in the reflection to make out his expression, but I know he's surprised.
"Why would you think that?" He makes my question sound ridiculous, and I suppose it is to him. He has his own way of looking at things, a calm understanding of his world that I never seem to be able to shake.
It had seemed the most logical thing in the world, the summer before we went to college. We were going to be five hundred miles apart, would probably only see each other over holidays and perhaps summers. And I had heard such amazing things about dating college. All those options. It had seemed silly to try to keep a relationship over such a distance. I had known I was breaking his heart, but only because we had been best friends before we were lovers. To an untrained eye he had simply seemed accepting, as though he had been expecting it. I had almost taken the words back, but he had just smiled and kissed my cheek and that was that.
I remember that he has asked me a question, but I ignore it for a moment. "What about my nineteenth birthday? You never explained why you drove eight hours just to come home and see me." I had hated admitting even to myself how devastated I had been that he had chosen to stay at school that summer. I had understood, of course. Only Nick would get an internship after his freshman year. But I had not realized until I had come home that summer how much I had been looking forward to seeing him again. How much I had missed him.
I had been working myself into a fine fit of teenage angst, convinced that I was unloved and unappreciated as I prepared to spend my birthday single and alone. Mom had been ready to smack me and kick me out of the house when he had shown up in his ugly green Honda, explaining that he had found someone to cover the afternoon for him. I'd just gaped at him until he laughed and dragged me to the car. We had found a quiet bar and drunk steadily, talking as though the year hadn't passed. At midnight he had taken me home, kissed my cheek, and driven back to school to be at work by nine.
My vision sharpens to focus on his reflection again as he shrugs. "It just seemed appropriate. I hadn't missed a birthday yet. And Annie had mentioned you were single, so I knew you'd be lonely."
I snort. Of course my sister would feel it necessary to tattle on my love life. She had been just as pissed as mom when I had broken it off with Nick. I flop back in my seat and let my head loll to the side so I can look him in the eyes. He looks a little tired, and I know he's got to be working too much. It's easier to keep tabs on him now that we live in the same city again, but it's not really my place to lecture him on late hours anymore. Not for a long time now.
"Is Craig coming out tonight?" I ask in what I hope is a nonchalant tone, shifting to look through the windshield. We're only a mile or so from the restaurant now; I can almost see the cross street ahead. It will probably take another ten minutes, though, in this traffic. I have a vague idea there's a baseball game tonight, and that always makes for terrible traffic.
I can feel Nick's eyes on my face as he answers my question carefully. "He might come out. I don't have to call him if you don't want me to. It's your birthday."
Of course I don't want him to come out. I'd really prefer he dropped off the face of the earth if I'm being honest. I keep my lips closed tight, though, and graciously keep from voicing my opinion. Nick knows how I feel anyway, though. He's uncanny like that.
"Why don't you like Craig?" he asks me curiously.
Because you like him a lot, I think to myself. I resolutely bite my tongue. This is the first time I've felt like Nick is letting me go. I've always sort of known in the back of my mind that he still held on to those teenage feelings. It's been something I can count on for almost a decade. No matter how roughly I treat him, Nick is always kind, always loving. Always there. Pretty soon, though, I get the feeling that will start to change.
He sighs a little, and I know he's frustrated with me. I know I'm being particularly difficult tonight, but I can't help it. There's this feeling of discontent that sits heavy in my chest and I try to ignore it. Even I know it's a little unfair to realize now just how much I miss him.
He reaches out and grabs my hand, squeezing a little. "You can tell the truth, you know." There's exasperation in his voice, but there's also fondness. I frown a little and lean against him.
"Truth, hmm? Too tricky. It's easier to just fib." I can feel him laugh a little against me, but the sound is little more than breath on my neck. It tickles and makes my hair stand pleasantly on end.
"It's a hard concept, but you can try," he reassures me. His thumb is tracing circles on my hand and I have the sudden, uncomfortable feeling that he knows exactly what I want to say.
It makes me swallow against tears. My brain jumps between a few thoughts, and my heart races to keep up with it. He always knows exactly how I feel. And if he always knows how I feel, he probably knows what's going through my head at this moment. And if that's true, he either is getting ready to gently let me down or…something else. The hand gripping mine and the breath against my neck makes me lean toward "something else," but I've never been able to read Nick quite as well as he can read me.
I'm a little embarrassed and turn my face into his neck. "I miss you," I mumble into his skin.
He shifts a little so that I'm resting more comfortably. "I'm right here," he assures me.
"That's not what I mean," I huff, pinching his arm.
"Oh?" he asks mildly. "What do you mean, then?" I think I can hear laughter in his voice, but it's hard to tell.
I remind myself to breathe, then take my own advice. For several seconds I just breathe in and out. Finally I work up the energy to speak. "What would you say if I told you I was sorry? For all those years ago? That I might have let my head do the thinking instead of my heart."
There's not a twitch out of him, he freezes so completely against me. I feel like I'm calling his bluff, like he didn't really feel like I would admit anything. "What exactly are you saying?" he asks very carefully.
I let it all out in a rush. At least we're almost to the restaurant. If it goes badly, I can just hop out of the cab and he can go home to Craig, save us both the embarrassment of staring at each other for an evening. "I guess I'm saying that I really miss you. All these years you've been here, stood the test of time no matter how I treated you. But now I feel like you're letting me go and I hate it." I suck in another breath. "I feel hollow without you. Empty. It's trite, I know. But it's true."
His arm tightens around me and his hand grips my own, but he stays silent. Desperately I keep trying to breathe and ask, "Aren't you going to say anything?"
His breath is close enough to ruffle my hair as he answers. "I'm still waiting for something," he murmurs.
I'm quiet for a long moment until it finally comes to me what he's waiting for. "I'm in love with you?" I offer tentatively.
I can feel his lips against the top of my head as he smiles. "That's the one," he says happily. Leaning forward, he carefully dislodges me and gives the cab driver a new address. Then he falls back against the seat and gathers me against him. "It's about time. I'd almost given up waiting."
I look at him in amazement. "Where are we going?"
He blinks and then laughs. "Home of course. You think we're going out after that confession? I waited nine years for you to come to your sense."
"What about Craig?"
"Oh. Him. He's been gone for a while." He smiles mischievously and leans his forehead to rest against mine. "But it was so obviously upsetting you that I couldn't let you know. I was hoping it would be enough to finally goad you into action."
I forget about breathing entirely as he kisses me. I have enough presence of mind to realize that of all the fourteen birthdays we've spent together, I think this is the absolute best. Even better than mud baths. Even that tenuous thought vanishes, though, as we put the long cab ride home to good use.