[FIC] Ever After (Chapter 11/11)
Title: Ever After
Main Pairing: Jeff/Greg, with background Chip/Wayne and Colin/Ryan
Rating: R for language
Total Word Count: 17,890
Chapter Word Count: 2,678
Summary: Jeff’s a directionally challenged actor who can’t seem to catch a break. Chip promises that Jeff’s new GPS will be the solution to all of his problems, but why does it seem to cause more problems than it solves? Will Chip turn out to be right in the end? (Spoiler alert: of course he will. This is, after all, a fairy tale.)
Special Thanks: to sungreen70 for patiently (lol) championing this story from its humble beginnings in 2009, subtly (lol) suggesting I finish it while recovering at home from surgery, and going above and beyond as a beta reader despite all the other demands - including Hurricane Sandy and a presidential election! - on her time. You are amazing! ♥
Jeff spun around, wide-eyed and gasping. “Greg!”
He took in his first sight of the tall, broad-shouldered man who was slouched against the side of the Mini Cooper. He was dressed, like Jeff, in a suit and patterned tie, and he held an unlit cigarette between the index and middle fingers of his left hand. From behind a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, his dark eyes scanned the area, locking on Jeff.
Chip came bounding over. “It worked, you guys! My song worked!” He stuck his hand out. “I’m Chip,” he said, beaming.
Greg extended his empty hand. “Greg,” he replied, giving Chip’s hand a firm shake. “By the way, thanks for all the lollipops. Sorry I didn’t have a chance to finish the pineapple one.”
Jeff took a closer look at the white stick in Greg’s hand. It wasn’t a cigarette at all, Jeff realized, smothering a laugh. Chip gave voice to his next thought. “But how...?”
“Some things can’t be explained,” Greg said with a shrug, his eyes straying back to Jeff. Holding Jeff’s gaze, he said, “Just call it... magic.”
Wayne put an arm around Chip’s shoulders and steered him away. “I think we should go,” he said, his voice low. To Jeff, he said, “We’re gonna head up to the cantina. Text me when you’re ready to meet up, okay?”
Jeff sent Wayne a look of silent gratitude. Wayne winked in return, then led Chip up Culver Boulevard in the direction of La Cantina de Pescado.
Jeff turned his attention back to Greg, whose eyes had not left him. “You’re... you’re really here,” he said, stumbling over his words. “I don’t understand how, but you’re here.” He hesitated. “It wasn’t because of Chip’s song, was it?”
Greg laughed. “Good God, no. That’s the kind of thing that makes you want to stay in the glove compartment, not come out.”
“Then what was it?” Jeff asked. He thought about The Velveteen Rabbit, and the power of love to bring about magic. “Was it because I wanted it so much?” he said softly.
Greg snorted. “I think it was probably because I wanted it so much,” he said. “It was no picnic living in your glove compartment, believe me. I mean, you never even bothered to get me a protective carrying case, even though Amazon had them for only $25.99 and you would’ve qualified for free Super Saver shipping.”
Jeff managed a weak smile, oddly stung by Greg’s casual dismissal of his question. “So...” he said, more as conversational spackle than anything meaningful.
Greg rocked back and forth on his heels. “Well,” he said.
An awkward silence descended. Jeff couldn’t understand why he was suddenly having trouble talking to Greg. Even when they argued - especially when they argued - neither of them was ever at a loss for words. Now Jeff felt as if they were two puzzle pieces that he’d had to pound together with the side of his fist to make them fit.
Just to be doing something, Jeff stuck his hands in his pockets. His left hand closed over his iPhone, and suddenly he remembered Wayne’s parting words. Jeff relaxed. Maybe this would all be easier if the four of them were together, talking and laughing over a round of drinks.
“Hey, are you ready to meet up with Chip and Wayne?” Jeff said. He pulled out his iPhone and began to scroll through his list of contacts, searching for Wayne’s number. “They’re at that cantina down the block.” Jeff pointed out the neon sign, then returned to his phone. “It’s got some crazy marine animal theme, like an underwater Chuck E. Cheese for adults. But they serve alcohol and lots of it, so I think we’ll survive.” When no response from Greg was forthcoming, Jeff looked up quizzically.
Greg was looking back at him with an expression Jeff couldn’t fathom.
“Are you all right?” Jeff said.
When Greg finally spoke, it was in a voice that sounded oddly unlike his own. “Maybe I’ll just- um, it doesn’t really sound like my sort of thing.”
“Oh, come on,” Jeff said, trying to tease back Greg’s good mood. “It’s not like you’ve got anything else planned for tonight, right? Oh shit, shit!” Jeff ached to reach out and snatch his thoughtless words from the air.
“No,” Greg said, and Jeff winced at the pain with which that one word was infused. “I don’t have anything planned for tonight. As a matter of fact, I don’t have anything planned for any night.”
“Shit, Greg, I’m sorry,” Jeff said, moving to put a tentative hand on Greg’s arm. Greg stepped just out of Jeff’s reach. Jeff stood there, helpless. “This is... ah, fuck. I just... I mean, wow, I have no idea what to say to you, or how to act-”
Greg cut him off. “You don’t think this is hard for me, too? What, you think I just went to Vegas for the weekend and now I’m back and ready to party? Christ.” He shook his head. “You have no idea what it was like,” he muttered, turning to walk away. “No idea.”
Jeff grabbed his arm, startling them both. “Then tell me,” he said, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. “Tell me what it was really like for you, Greg. The way you told it earlier made it sound like some grand adventure, but I’ll bet it wasn’t.”
Greg stared down at the ground. Jeff took Greg’s chin in his hand and tipped his head up, forcing Greg to look him in the eye. “Look at me,” Jeff whispered. “Look at me and tell me the truth. No more jokes. No more hiding. Just... tell me.”
“You really want to know?” Greg said, his voice tight. “It was hell. It was pure, fucking hell.” Tears sprang to his eyes, and he wiped them away angrily. “I was alone for three fucking years. I was around people 24/7, but I had no one to talk to. Oh, they could hear what I said when they needed to. But they couldn’t hear me, you know?
“It was like being behind a goddamned funhouse mirror,” he said bitterly. “I could see everything that was going on, but no one could see me. All I could do was watch. Listen. Make sure everyone’s needs were met. And try to forget that I’d ever had needs of my own.”
Jeff slipped his hands in Greg’s and gave them a squeeze. After a brief pause, Greg squeezed back, and his expression softened. “I spent a lot of time trying to find ways to forget,” Greg continued. “And the best way I found was to make jokes. As long as I had my jokes, I figured I could forget about everything else. Like being free. Or having friends. Or watching the sun rise.” He paused. “Or falling in love.”
Jeff let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. His eyes met Greg's. “But you didn’t forget,” he said softly.
“No. I didn’t. To forget those things....” Greg’s voice broke. “To forget those things would’ve been to forget how to be human. And I knew that whatever else I gave up in the name of daily survival, I didn’t want to lose my capacity to be... to be real. No matter how remote my chances were, I didn’t want to let go of the hope that maybe one day, I’d be real again.”
Greg looked down at his hands. Jeff’s fingers were laced through his own, and Greg couldn’t be sure where his hands ended and Jeff’s began. “And now....” He hesitated. “Now it’s you I don’t want to let go of.”
Jeff’s breath caught. “I don’t want to let go of you either,” he whispered. Jeff was almost afraid to move, to speak again. He imagined that he was the only thing keeping Greg tethered to this earth, and if he let go, he would lose him again.
A car turned into the boulevard, its headlights bathing them in white light. A burst of mariachi music pulsed in the night air. Greg watched the car disappear up the street, red taillights winking in the darkness. “I’m sorry,” he said, pulling away. “This isn’t how I expected-”
“Don’t.” Jeff reached up to brush Greg’s lips with the pad of his thumb. Taking Greg’s hand again, he said, “Come on. I know somewhere we can go.”
Jeff led Greg down to the end of Culver Boulevard, past the cantina. From the low-slung apartment buildings on their left, Jeff could hear the occasional clink of cutlery on china, punctuated by bursts of canned laughter. The streetlights receded behind them as they wound their way between the yellow bollards that marked the beginning of the beach pathway. Jeff felt as if they were leaving the world behind. His pulse slowed; his breathing deepened. He felt it would be sacrilege to speak.
When they reached the sand, Jeff removed his shoes, tying the laces together and stuffing his socks down into the toes. Greg did the same. “The ocean,” Greg murmured, as they rolled up their trousers. “I thought I’d never see it again.” He stood watching the water, mesmerized by the gentle roll of the waves as they lapped at the sand.
“I come here a lot,” Jeff said softly. “It’s a good place to think.”
Greg picked up Jeff’s hand again and began to move his thumb in slow circles on his palm. “And what are you thinking now?” he said, his voice low.
Jeff regarded Greg through half-lidded eyes, as hypnotized by the rhythm of Greg’s touch as Greg had been by the ocean waves. “I’m thinking it might be a good place for other things, too.”
Greg inclined his head, looking at Jeff as though weighing up a decision. Tentatively he reached out to touch him, but Jeff caught Greg’s wrist halfway, pinning it in mid-air with a grip that was anything but tentative. Greg let out a startled exclamation. With his free hand, Jeff cupped the back of Greg’s head and pulled him close, silencing him with his mouth. Greg’s surprise yielded to desire as the kiss grew insistent and probing. Jeff twined his fingers through the hair at the nape of Greg’s neck, digging his fingernails into the soft skin. Greg moaned into Jeff’s mouth, and his shoes fell from his hand and landed with a soft thud on the sand.
When they finally broke apart, Greg was looking at Jeff with undisguised desire - and fascination, Jeff realized. “Well, you were the one who said I should be less passive,” Jeff said, affecting a look of pure innocence. “And if you’re going to let the cat out of the bag, so to speak, then you’ve got to be ready for whatever happens next.”
“So the cat’s well and truly out of the bag, huh?” Greg said, eyeing Jeff appraisingly. He hooked a proprietary finger in Jeff’s belt loop and tugged him closer. “Then come here, kitten,” he said, and eased Jeff down onto the sand.
Jeff would deny it later, but Greg swore he heard him purr in response.
* * *
They walked along the water’s edge, the damp sand cold against the soles of their feet.
“I heard what you said to Wayne earlier,” Greg confessed, his tied-together shoes swinging from his free hand.
“About The Velveteen Rabbit?”
“About that... and about how I’ve always been there for you when you need me.”
Jeff cast a sidelong glance at Greg. “Fishing for compliments, are we?”
“Oh, I don’t need to fish,” Greg said. “I know I’m fabulous.”
“Modest, too.”
“There is that.” A lone seagull wheeled across the sky, a silhouette in reverse. Greg’s attention was momentarily diverted. “But back to what you said to Wayne... it’s not true, not really. I haven’t always been there for you. That night on the freeway-” Greg shook his head. “I wasn’t there for you that night. You needed me, but I didn’t help you.”
Jeff squeezed Greg’s hand. “Greg, it’s all right.”
“No,” Greg said, coming to a stop. “It’s not all right. I was upset, and I took it out on you in the only way I could. When you forgot me in the glove compartment, I was devastated. Not because you left me in there-”
“But because of what it meant,” Jeff finished, nodding. “I know.”
“Yes. Because it meant you didn’t need me anymore, and that meant I’d have to go. And then when you ran your car off the road....” Greg looked away. “I felt sick, literally sick. I’d let my pride get in the way of keeping you safe, and then I was too ashamed to face you. But I did everything I could to stick around in the hope that maybe, you would start to need me again.”
Jeff looked at Greg. With his thumb he smoothed a lock of hair back from Greg’s forehead, letting his hand linger on Greg’s cheek. “I never stopped needing you, Greg,” Jeff said softly. “Never. I may be able to find my way around LA on my own now, but God knows I still need you to help me find my way around my life.” One side of Greg’s face was visible in the moonlight, and Jeff stroked the side that was in shadow. “But you’re allowed to need me too, okay? In fact, I insist on it.”
Greg’s hands were on Jeff’s chest. “I don’t know how good I’m going to be at needing other people after being out of practice for so long,” he admitted, fingering the buttons on Jeff’s shirt. “Hey, did you know you’ve got this thing on inside out?”
“Did you know you’re wearing my tie?”
Greg glanced down. “Touché.”
Jeff grinned triumphantly. “See? That’s one thing you need me for already. Someone’s got to keep track of our ties.” He tugged at Greg’s sleeve. “Let’s sit for a while.” He took off his suit jacket and laid it out on the sand, motioning for Greg to sit down. Jeff nestled between Greg’s outstretched legs and Greg wrapped his arms around him protectively, pulling him close. Jeff leaned back against Greg’s chest and sighed contentedly. “Do you remember the night you first spoke to me?” he said. “And then I fell asleep on the couch and was woken up by Brad’s infomercial and you asked me if I thought life was a fairy tale?”
“That was a rhetorical question. And I believe I was trying to make the point that it isn’t.”
“Well, I think it is.”
Greg kissed the back of Jeff’s neck. “Uh-huh.”
“First there was the object with magical powers, then I received the gift of a directional sense, and then you were rescued from captivity,” Jeff said, ticking each point off on his fingers. He got to his feet, brushed the sand from his trousers, then knelt down between Greg’s legs to face him. “And if that’s not a fairy tale, then what is?”
“Well, if this is a fairy tale, then you’ve forgotten the most important part,” Greg said.
“Which is?”
“How it ends.” Greg cupped Jeff’s face in his hands. “And this one ends with us living happily-”
“Ever after,” Jeff finished with a smile. He planted his hands on Greg’s thighs and leaned in for a kiss. Greg met him halfway.
As their lips touched, Jeff closed his eyes. He thought of the dream he’d had after Colin and Ryan’s wedding, the dream in which he was the last surviving member of a species on the brink of extinction. Desperately lonely, he’d roamed the earth looking for someone he could love, someone who would understand him. As soon as he gave up, he was found - by his soulmate, who’d been searching for him all along. When Jeff awoke, it was with feelings of indescribable joy and unbearable sadness, his heart aching with desire for his dream to come true.
Now, as Jeff opened his eyes, he saw that it had.
Main Pairing: Jeff/Greg, with background Chip/Wayne and Colin/Ryan
Rating: R for language
Total Word Count: 17,890
Chapter Word Count: 2,678
Summary: Jeff’s a directionally challenged actor who can’t seem to catch a break. Chip promises that Jeff’s new GPS will be the solution to all of his problems, but why does it seem to cause more problems than it solves? Will Chip turn out to be right in the end? (Spoiler alert: of course he will. This is, after all, a fairy tale.)
Special Thanks: to sungreen70 for patiently (lol) championing this story from its humble beginnings in 2009, subtly (lol) suggesting I finish it while recovering at home from surgery, and going above and beyond as a beta reader despite all the other demands - including Hurricane Sandy and a presidential election! - on her time. You are amazing! ♥
Jeff spun around, wide-eyed and gasping. “Greg!”
He took in his first sight of the tall, broad-shouldered man who was slouched against the side of the Mini Cooper. He was dressed, like Jeff, in a suit and patterned tie, and he held an unlit cigarette between the index and middle fingers of his left hand. From behind a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, his dark eyes scanned the area, locking on Jeff.
Chip came bounding over. “It worked, you guys! My song worked!” He stuck his hand out. “I’m Chip,” he said, beaming.
Greg extended his empty hand. “Greg,” he replied, giving Chip’s hand a firm shake. “By the way, thanks for all the lollipops. Sorry I didn’t have a chance to finish the pineapple one.”
Jeff took a closer look at the white stick in Greg’s hand. It wasn’t a cigarette at all, Jeff realized, smothering a laugh. Chip gave voice to his next thought. “But how...?”
“Some things can’t be explained,” Greg said with a shrug, his eyes straying back to Jeff. Holding Jeff’s gaze, he said, “Just call it... magic.”
Wayne put an arm around Chip’s shoulders and steered him away. “I think we should go,” he said, his voice low. To Jeff, he said, “We’re gonna head up to the cantina. Text me when you’re ready to meet up, okay?”
Jeff sent Wayne a look of silent gratitude. Wayne winked in return, then led Chip up Culver Boulevard in the direction of La Cantina de Pescado.
Jeff turned his attention back to Greg, whose eyes had not left him. “You’re... you’re really here,” he said, stumbling over his words. “I don’t understand how, but you’re here.” He hesitated. “It wasn’t because of Chip’s song, was it?”
Greg laughed. “Good God, no. That’s the kind of thing that makes you want to stay in the glove compartment, not come out.”
“Then what was it?” Jeff asked. He thought about The Velveteen Rabbit, and the power of love to bring about magic. “Was it because I wanted it so much?” he said softly.
Greg snorted. “I think it was probably because I wanted it so much,” he said. “It was no picnic living in your glove compartment, believe me. I mean, you never even bothered to get me a protective carrying case, even though Amazon had them for only $25.99 and you would’ve qualified for free Super Saver shipping.”
Jeff managed a weak smile, oddly stung by Greg’s casual dismissal of his question. “So...” he said, more as conversational spackle than anything meaningful.
Greg rocked back and forth on his heels. “Well,” he said.
An awkward silence descended. Jeff couldn’t understand why he was suddenly having trouble talking to Greg. Even when they argued - especially when they argued - neither of them was ever at a loss for words. Now Jeff felt as if they were two puzzle pieces that he’d had to pound together with the side of his fist to make them fit.
Just to be doing something, Jeff stuck his hands in his pockets. His left hand closed over his iPhone, and suddenly he remembered Wayne’s parting words. Jeff relaxed. Maybe this would all be easier if the four of them were together, talking and laughing over a round of drinks.
“Hey, are you ready to meet up with Chip and Wayne?” Jeff said. He pulled out his iPhone and began to scroll through his list of contacts, searching for Wayne’s number. “They’re at that cantina down the block.” Jeff pointed out the neon sign, then returned to his phone. “It’s got some crazy marine animal theme, like an underwater Chuck E. Cheese for adults. But they serve alcohol and lots of it, so I think we’ll survive.” When no response from Greg was forthcoming, Jeff looked up quizzically.
Greg was looking back at him with an expression Jeff couldn’t fathom.
“Are you all right?” Jeff said.
When Greg finally spoke, it was in a voice that sounded oddly unlike his own. “Maybe I’ll just- um, it doesn’t really sound like my sort of thing.”
“Oh, come on,” Jeff said, trying to tease back Greg’s good mood. “It’s not like you’ve got anything else planned for tonight, right? Oh shit, shit!” Jeff ached to reach out and snatch his thoughtless words from the air.
“No,” Greg said, and Jeff winced at the pain with which that one word was infused. “I don’t have anything planned for tonight. As a matter of fact, I don’t have anything planned for any night.”
“Shit, Greg, I’m sorry,” Jeff said, moving to put a tentative hand on Greg’s arm. Greg stepped just out of Jeff’s reach. Jeff stood there, helpless. “This is... ah, fuck. I just... I mean, wow, I have no idea what to say to you, or how to act-”
Greg cut him off. “You don’t think this is hard for me, too? What, you think I just went to Vegas for the weekend and now I’m back and ready to party? Christ.” He shook his head. “You have no idea what it was like,” he muttered, turning to walk away. “No idea.”
Jeff grabbed his arm, startling them both. “Then tell me,” he said, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. “Tell me what it was really like for you, Greg. The way you told it earlier made it sound like some grand adventure, but I’ll bet it wasn’t.”
Greg stared down at the ground. Jeff took Greg’s chin in his hand and tipped his head up, forcing Greg to look him in the eye. “Look at me,” Jeff whispered. “Look at me and tell me the truth. No more jokes. No more hiding. Just... tell me.”
“You really want to know?” Greg said, his voice tight. “It was hell. It was pure, fucking hell.” Tears sprang to his eyes, and he wiped them away angrily. “I was alone for three fucking years. I was around people 24/7, but I had no one to talk to. Oh, they could hear what I said when they needed to. But they couldn’t hear me, you know?
“It was like being behind a goddamned funhouse mirror,” he said bitterly. “I could see everything that was going on, but no one could see me. All I could do was watch. Listen. Make sure everyone’s needs were met. And try to forget that I’d ever had needs of my own.”
Jeff slipped his hands in Greg’s and gave them a squeeze. After a brief pause, Greg squeezed back, and his expression softened. “I spent a lot of time trying to find ways to forget,” Greg continued. “And the best way I found was to make jokes. As long as I had my jokes, I figured I could forget about everything else. Like being free. Or having friends. Or watching the sun rise.” He paused. “Or falling in love.”
Jeff let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. His eyes met Greg's. “But you didn’t forget,” he said softly.
“No. I didn’t. To forget those things....” Greg’s voice broke. “To forget those things would’ve been to forget how to be human. And I knew that whatever else I gave up in the name of daily survival, I didn’t want to lose my capacity to be... to be real. No matter how remote my chances were, I didn’t want to let go of the hope that maybe one day, I’d be real again.”
Greg looked down at his hands. Jeff’s fingers were laced through his own, and Greg couldn’t be sure where his hands ended and Jeff’s began. “And now....” He hesitated. “Now it’s you I don’t want to let go of.”
Jeff’s breath caught. “I don’t want to let go of you either,” he whispered. Jeff was almost afraid to move, to speak again. He imagined that he was the only thing keeping Greg tethered to this earth, and if he let go, he would lose him again.
A car turned into the boulevard, its headlights bathing them in white light. A burst of mariachi music pulsed in the night air. Greg watched the car disappear up the street, red taillights winking in the darkness. “I’m sorry,” he said, pulling away. “This isn’t how I expected-”
“Don’t.” Jeff reached up to brush Greg’s lips with the pad of his thumb. Taking Greg’s hand again, he said, “Come on. I know somewhere we can go.”
Jeff led Greg down to the end of Culver Boulevard, past the cantina. From the low-slung apartment buildings on their left, Jeff could hear the occasional clink of cutlery on china, punctuated by bursts of canned laughter. The streetlights receded behind them as they wound their way between the yellow bollards that marked the beginning of the beach pathway. Jeff felt as if they were leaving the world behind. His pulse slowed; his breathing deepened. He felt it would be sacrilege to speak.
When they reached the sand, Jeff removed his shoes, tying the laces together and stuffing his socks down into the toes. Greg did the same. “The ocean,” Greg murmured, as they rolled up their trousers. “I thought I’d never see it again.” He stood watching the water, mesmerized by the gentle roll of the waves as they lapped at the sand.
“I come here a lot,” Jeff said softly. “It’s a good place to think.”
Greg picked up Jeff’s hand again and began to move his thumb in slow circles on his palm. “And what are you thinking now?” he said, his voice low.
Jeff regarded Greg through half-lidded eyes, as hypnotized by the rhythm of Greg’s touch as Greg had been by the ocean waves. “I’m thinking it might be a good place for other things, too.”
Greg inclined his head, looking at Jeff as though weighing up a decision. Tentatively he reached out to touch him, but Jeff caught Greg’s wrist halfway, pinning it in mid-air with a grip that was anything but tentative. Greg let out a startled exclamation. With his free hand, Jeff cupped the back of Greg’s head and pulled him close, silencing him with his mouth. Greg’s surprise yielded to desire as the kiss grew insistent and probing. Jeff twined his fingers through the hair at the nape of Greg’s neck, digging his fingernails into the soft skin. Greg moaned into Jeff’s mouth, and his shoes fell from his hand and landed with a soft thud on the sand.
When they finally broke apart, Greg was looking at Jeff with undisguised desire - and fascination, Jeff realized. “Well, you were the one who said I should be less passive,” Jeff said, affecting a look of pure innocence. “And if you’re going to let the cat out of the bag, so to speak, then you’ve got to be ready for whatever happens next.”
“So the cat’s well and truly out of the bag, huh?” Greg said, eyeing Jeff appraisingly. He hooked a proprietary finger in Jeff’s belt loop and tugged him closer. “Then come here, kitten,” he said, and eased Jeff down onto the sand.
Jeff would deny it later, but Greg swore he heard him purr in response.
* * *
They walked along the water’s edge, the damp sand cold against the soles of their feet.
“I heard what you said to Wayne earlier,” Greg confessed, his tied-together shoes swinging from his free hand.
“About The Velveteen Rabbit?”
“About that... and about how I’ve always been there for you when you need me.”
Jeff cast a sidelong glance at Greg. “Fishing for compliments, are we?”
“Oh, I don’t need to fish,” Greg said. “I know I’m fabulous.”
“Modest, too.”
“There is that.” A lone seagull wheeled across the sky, a silhouette in reverse. Greg’s attention was momentarily diverted. “But back to what you said to Wayne... it’s not true, not really. I haven’t always been there for you. That night on the freeway-” Greg shook his head. “I wasn’t there for you that night. You needed me, but I didn’t help you.”
Jeff squeezed Greg’s hand. “Greg, it’s all right.”
“No,” Greg said, coming to a stop. “It’s not all right. I was upset, and I took it out on you in the only way I could. When you forgot me in the glove compartment, I was devastated. Not because you left me in there-”
“But because of what it meant,” Jeff finished, nodding. “I know.”
“Yes. Because it meant you didn’t need me anymore, and that meant I’d have to go. And then when you ran your car off the road....” Greg looked away. “I felt sick, literally sick. I’d let my pride get in the way of keeping you safe, and then I was too ashamed to face you. But I did everything I could to stick around in the hope that maybe, you would start to need me again.”
Jeff looked at Greg. With his thumb he smoothed a lock of hair back from Greg’s forehead, letting his hand linger on Greg’s cheek. “I never stopped needing you, Greg,” Jeff said softly. “Never. I may be able to find my way around LA on my own now, but God knows I still need you to help me find my way around my life.” One side of Greg’s face was visible in the moonlight, and Jeff stroked the side that was in shadow. “But you’re allowed to need me too, okay? In fact, I insist on it.”
Greg’s hands were on Jeff’s chest. “I don’t know how good I’m going to be at needing other people after being out of practice for so long,” he admitted, fingering the buttons on Jeff’s shirt. “Hey, did you know you’ve got this thing on inside out?”
“Did you know you’re wearing my tie?”
Greg glanced down. “Touché.”
Jeff grinned triumphantly. “See? That’s one thing you need me for already. Someone’s got to keep track of our ties.” He tugged at Greg’s sleeve. “Let’s sit for a while.” He took off his suit jacket and laid it out on the sand, motioning for Greg to sit down. Jeff nestled between Greg’s outstretched legs and Greg wrapped his arms around him protectively, pulling him close. Jeff leaned back against Greg’s chest and sighed contentedly. “Do you remember the night you first spoke to me?” he said. “And then I fell asleep on the couch and was woken up by Brad’s infomercial and you asked me if I thought life was a fairy tale?”
“That was a rhetorical question. And I believe I was trying to make the point that it isn’t.”
“Well, I think it is.”
Greg kissed the back of Jeff’s neck. “Uh-huh.”
“First there was the object with magical powers, then I received the gift of a directional sense, and then you were rescued from captivity,” Jeff said, ticking each point off on his fingers. He got to his feet, brushed the sand from his trousers, then knelt down between Greg’s legs to face him. “And if that’s not a fairy tale, then what is?”
“Well, if this is a fairy tale, then you’ve forgotten the most important part,” Greg said.
“Which is?”
“How it ends.” Greg cupped Jeff’s face in his hands. “And this one ends with us living happily-”
“Ever after,” Jeff finished with a smile. He planted his hands on Greg’s thighs and leaned in for a kiss. Greg met him halfway.
As their lips touched, Jeff closed his eyes. He thought of the dream he’d had after Colin and Ryan’s wedding, the dream in which he was the last surviving member of a species on the brink of extinction. Desperately lonely, he’d roamed the earth looking for someone he could love, someone who would understand him. As soon as he gave up, he was found - by his soulmate, who’d been searching for him all along. When Jeff awoke, it was with feelings of indescribable joy and unbearable sadness, his heart aching with desire for his dream to come true.
Now, as Jeff opened his eyes, he saw that it had.