Alan Pratchett / Various 1 / 029; Birth
Title: Stupid Decisions
Prompt Set: Various 1
Prompt: 029; Birth
Ratings/Warnings: PG13ish? Mild swearing and homosexual sexual situations.
Author's Notes: Alan tries to deal with the end of his relationship. If by "deal" you mean "not sleep or eat or function normally." This takes place about five years after the stuff I've been posting thus far.
***
July 17, 2003: 3:30pm
***
"Alan," Justine says to him one afternoon when they're sitting on her porch. "You're killing yourself."
Alan glances up from the iced tea he's been nursing for an hour and tries his best to give her a skeptical look. It's not that he doesn't feel skeptical - he doesn't have to force the feeling, but he's found it hard to look anything other than devastated for the past few weeks. For the past few months, even.
"You know what I mean," Justine says, and from the look of heart-breaking sympathy on her face, he can tell that he didn't succeed at changing his expression. "Honey, you can't keep this up. You can't keep living with Danny. Move in here, please. This is destroying you and it's destroying him, too. You've lost like, fifteen pounds and you've had these dark circles under your eyes since April. You're killing yourself to do this." She reaches across the wicker table and takes his hands in her own, forcing him to look at her. She's got the healthy glow of a very pregnant woman, and Alan can hear three-year-old Elsie giggling with Jason in the pool. She looks happy, serene, except for the darkness in her eyes that she's focusing on him. He hates himself a little for ruining her life like this, but not enough to stop.
"I'm fine, Justine," he says quietly. Everything is quiet now. He speaks quietly, he moves quietly, he tries to breathe quietly, but despite the quiet, every move he makes still shatters his eardrums. Especially when he's alone. Especially when he's with Danny.
"You're not fine, Alan!" she insists. "You don't eat! You don't sleep!" He swallows hard and looks away from her. He hopes that the sun is reflecting off his glasses at least enough so that she can't tell that there are tears pooling in his eyes, and he keeps swallowing sobs because she's right - she's right about everything, she's right that he's killing himself, but mostly she's right about this. He doesn't sleep. He lies awake in bed all night with Danny's arms securely around him because he can't help but think, There are a finite number of nights like this. He can't help but think that although Danny whispered 'forever' into his hair when they laughed and danced and fucked, it's not going to be forever, it's going to be until August twenty-fifth and then it's going to be over.
He lies awake at night and lets Danny hold him because he's not strong enough to leave. He knows that Justine is right - he can't stay with Danny knowing that the end is so near. Still, he can't bring himself to break away from the one thing he thought he needed to be happy.
The days are just as bad, especially now that summer is upon them. He has all morning and afternoon with nothing to do until his evening Astronomy lectures at the Planetarium. He's taken to spending all morning in bed, waiting until three or four o'clock to shower and change. He wanders the house in a daze, staring at the life he's spent the last five years building. He's like a ghost in his own house, stopping short of touching the remnants of his past life - photographs, souvenirs, odds and ends, things that pile up on counters and mantles. He wanders through the rooms, or sits on the couch with the cat, staring out the window waiting for nothing.
In the old days, the better days, the summers of years past, he would spend the day reading or shopping. He'd substitute at summer school or volunteer at the library. He'd meet Danny for lunch at the office and kiss him goodbye and ask what he wanted for dinner. They'd eat quickly and Alan would be off to the Planetarium, knowing that Danny would be waiting with ice cream and cold beer and kisses when he got home.
Days like today, Justine pries Alan out of the house with a promise of conversation and lunch. It's only July and she's already had him over almost two dozen times even though she should be relaxing instead of running around town trying to keep him entertained. She does her best to keep him as far away from Danny as possible. Their lunches are at her house or on the opposite end of town from Danny's office. She invites him to dinner nearly every night, even though she knows Danny makes excuses to stay late at work. Sometimes she even drives to the Planetarium to convince him to stay the night at her house.
He never accepts. He can't.
"Justine," he says after what feels like a lifetime. His throat is still slick with tears, but he's fairly confident he can speak without crying. "I can't explain it to you. I can't even explain it to myself. But I need to be with him. I can't stop being with him until I have to. You're... you're not wrong about what it's doing to me, but I can't stop yet." He swallows again, hard, and just barely in time. He feels the sob vibrating in his stomach and the salad he's been picking at all afternoon is suddenly even less appetizing than it was before.
Justine is silent for a long time, and he's thankful for that. He has a feeling that the silence is as much for her to collect herself as it is for him, but he's grateful all the same. Her eyes are too bright when she looks up, too bright and too sad. The self-hatred bubbles up again, but as always, the visceral need to hold onto Danny until he absolutely has to go is stronger than his desire to make Justine happy.
"The baby's getting fidgety," she says finally. "Come feel." Alan pushes his chair out only after he's certain his legs will hold him up. He joins her on the bench she's lounging on, laying a hand over her stomach and resting his head on her shoulder. She's nice enough not to mention his tears.
***
July 17, 6:00pm
***
Danny doesn't stay late at work, probably because it's the middle of July and business of greeting cards and gifts is slow. He looks embarrassed when he walks in at six o'clock, but Alan doesn't ask why. He never asks anything anymore.
"Hi," he says, leaning against the entryway to the kitchen and crossing his arms.
"Hi," Danny says. He scratches the back of his neck and looks away, placing his briefcase next to the couch with far too much concentration, far too much care. They don't know how to speak to each other anymore. By the time school was winding down in June it was already a struggle, but now that Alan is alone all day and gone all night it's just too easy to find excuses not to. April, May, and June were only filled with variations of the same conversation - "Don't go." "I have to go. Come with me." "I can't." "How can you let this happen?" "How can you let this happen?" - so it's almost a relief to move past it.
When Danny looks like he wants to move towards the kitchen, Alan quickly gets out of his way and sits on the couch. Rusty wanders into the room to join him, mistaking this for their near daily vigil of the squirrels across the street. Alan's grateful for the company, grateful that the sometimes-snobbish cat seems to have sensed the trouble with his owners and made himself as agreeable as possible since March. Alan scratches behind Rusty's ears and rests his head against the back of the couch, curling up on his side and closing his eyes. It's going to be a long evening of stilted silence and aborted touches and already he can feel a headache blossoming behind his eyes.
***
July 17, 2003: 11:00pm
***
When he gets home from the Planetarium, Danny is waiting for him on the couch. This in itself is odd - their routine doesn't work this way. Their routine is Danny in bed, reading a book or pretending to sleep. Their routine is Alan coming to bed around eleven and Danny wordlessly wrapping his arms around him. Danny sitting on the couch, reading a book with worried eyes is startling and wrong, enough to set Alan on edge.
"What's wrong?" he says almost before the door is closed behind him.
"Jason called about an hour ago," Danny says, not looking at him, looking, instead, at his book as he takes great care in marking his page and closing it. "I tried to get you at work but they said--"
"Oh god," Alan says. He's dizzy.
"They said you'd already left," Danny continues. He still won't look at Alan. "He had to take Justine to the hospital. Something... they don't know what's wrong, the baby is in distress. Everything should be fine but..." He trails off, finally chancing a glance at Alan, who can feel the color draining from his face.
"I just... today, I just felt the baby kicking... today, at lunch, I... oh god," he whispers. He's dizzy and seeing spots. He's not sure how he's going to get to the couch because he has to squeeze his eyes shut and even then he sways on his feet.
"Christ, Alan..." he hears Danny say, and before his legs go out Danny's right beside him, holding him up, holding him close, holding him in the lamplight which is more than he's done in weeks. He clings to Danny blindly as they limp towards the couch. "Did you eat anything today?" Danny asks. Alan opens his eyes and stumbles to sit down. He's surprised when Danny pulls him onto his lap, cradling him close.
"I..." He's so startled by it, in fact, that he has to think hard to remember if he's eaten. "I had a salad at Justine's this afternoon," he says finally. It's not a lie - he did eat some of it. He finished the croutons, at least, and most of the cucumbers before becoming too nauseated by his own actions to eat the rest. "God, Danny, she made me the salad. I told her not to, but she got up and ran around the kitchen making me a salad and then six hours later..." He knows it's a bad idea to twist his arms around Danny's waist, to rest against his shoulder. It's a terrible idea - today is July 17th, which means only thirty-nine days until this is over for good. He can't stop, though. It's instinct, just as he knows it's instinct for Danny to pet his hair and rub his back like nothing has changed.
"You need to eat more than that," Danny says. His lips are close to Alan's scalp. He can feel the tiny exhales, the flutter of Danny's breath in his hair. "You're going to pass out." He doesn't say, 'You're skinny enough as it is,' but Alan can feel the words in the way that Danny's fingers dance over his protruding ribs and in the way that he presses guilty little kisses to the top of Alan's head. Danny, for his part, looks just as gorgeous as he did on the day they met, save for the dark circles under his eyes. Alan wants to hate him for it, especially when he looks in the mirror and sees the weight he's lost, the color he's lost, the life he's lost, but he can't bring himself to summon much more than envy.
"Oh god, Justine," Alan whispers again, fisting his hands in the back of Danny's t-shirt. "I can't believe this..."
"She'll be fine," Danny says, and it's clear he doesn't feel that sort of confidence. "Don't worry, sweetheart, she'll be fine." Danny hasn't called him 'sweetheart' in weeks. Alan hates himself for taking the time to notice that. "Jason sounded very optimistic on the phone. He also wanted to know if you could watch Elsie tomorrow. She's with Mrs. Crenshaw across the street for now, but Mrs. Crenshaw has plans for tomorrow afternoon and someone needs to watch Elsie."
"Of course," Alan says. "Of course I can do that. I'll... I'll pick her up in the afternoon or Mrs. Crenshaw can drop her here, or..." Danny tenses for a moment, and Alan can hear the question before it's even asked.
"Do you want me to... I could... I can call in to work," Danny says slowly. "If you wanted me to. If you wanted company." Even with the extra split second to decide on an answer, Alan still isn't sure of what to say. He knows what he wants to say, but he also knows this could be the worst decision he can make. In the end, the comfort of Danny's chest rising and falling right next to his wins out over practicality and common sense.
"Yes," he says. "I'd... please." This is more conversation than they've had in recent memory. He knows it's a dangerous road to travel down - 'thirty-nine' days is running through his head like a warning bell - but he's vulnerable and he wants this comfort, mostly because he knows this could be his last chance to have it.
"Okay," Danny says. "I'll be here." Alan can feel Danny's heart speed up for a moment. He can feel the tension in Danny's body, the sudden flex of his muscles. He can almost feel the gears in Danny's head grinding. "Alan," he says hesitantly. "I... just for tonight and tomorrow. Let me... please." It would be so easy to pretend he doesn't follow, to pretend that their ability to understand each other has faded away, much like their ability to hold a conversation. It would be easy, but Alan's body is betraying him, his hands shaking in response, his pulse suddenly racing. He wants to cry, mostly because he can't stop himself from looking up, making eye contact with Danny, and nodding.
"Just... just for tonight and tomorrow," he manages to reply. Danny is already shifting around, sliding back so that Alan is straddling his lap. "Just because I can't... I need..." Danny unbuttons his shirt almost reverently, caressing Alan's face and chest with shaking hands.
"Just because you need... I need... I don't..." Alan feels Danny's words against his throat and closes his eyes, blinking back tears.
"This is so wrong," he says. "This is so incredibly wrong." He thinks he might be sick, but the feeling doubles when Danny's hands move away.
"I'm sorry," he says quickly. "I'm sorry, you're right. We can stop."
Alan kisses him on the mouth before either of them can really consider it.
***
July 18, 2003: 12:00 pm
***
Alan wakes slowly and from a dream he can't quite grasp. For the first time in weeks he feels rested and content and he can't help but attribute that to the fact that he's not alone in bed.
"I didn't want to wake you," Danny says, his voice soft and almost reverent. "I can tell you haven't been sleeping well." Alan's eyes are still closed, but he can feel Danny around him - breath on his throat, fingers splayed across his back. It's not hard to slip back into old habits, so he's not really surprised that the first thing he does, before even reaching for his glasses or opening his eyes, is to pull Danny down for a sleepy good morning kiss. He realizes half a second later what a bad choice that is, but Danny responds to the kiss, pressing another to Alan's forehead once they break apart.
"That was..." Alan starts to say, but trails off once he opens his eyes. They both know how stupid that was. This is going to be a rough day, and there's really no need to have that conversation right now.
Danny hands him his glasses before he can even ask. "You know," he says as Alan puts them on. "You are still everything you ever were to me. That hasn't changed. That will never change, Alan." Of course it's easy for him to say that now, or at least that's what Alan bitterly thinks as he blinks back the sleep in his eyes. It's easy to say that during a truce.
"What time is it?" he asks. "I should..." He starts to sit up, his mind whirling with memories of recent events. "I need to call Jason or Justine and... Elsie's supposed... I need to get..." Danny puts a hand on his chest, easing him back against the pillows.
"Don't worry about it," he says. "I talked to Jason earlier and then again an hour or so ago. Justine and the baby are fine for now. They're both stable, but the doctor is nervous so they're going to do an emergency c-section later this afternoon if nothing changes. Mrs. Crenshaw is going to drop Elsie off here on her way to the hair dresser's, so they should be here any minute. I called into work, and I called the Planetarium and told them you needed the night off. They're calling your replacement in for a test run. Everything's okay." Another reason why Alan is loath to see Danny go, besides the fact that it's breaking his heart, besides the fact that he's not sure how he can stand to be without him, besides the fact that he loves him more than he's ever loved another living thing, is that instead of panicking over things, Danny manages. He makes the phone calls, he sets the arrangements, he even picks out appropriate outfits. Whenever he gets uneasy, Danny puts it out of his mind by organizing things, and that's a trait that Alan really wishes he had himself.
"Okay," Alan says to Danny. "Thank you. I should..." He starts to sit up again, swallowing the lump that rises in his throat at the feeling of Danny's hand sliding down his bare chest. "I should take a shower and get dressed if Elsie's going to be here soon."
"Yeah, you should do that," Danny says, pulling his hand away.
Alan rolls over on top of Danny, pressing him into the mattress and kissing him desperately and without restraint.
"We can't do this," Danny says, framing Alan's face with his hands, pulling him up and away.
"I know," Alan breathes. They stay like that for a moment, tangled together and panting.
"There's no time," Danny says.
"I know," Alan says.
"It's not that I don't want to," Danny says. "God, Alan, I miss you so much. Every day I miss you."
"I know," Alan says again. His arms start to shake from the strain of holding himself up over Danny.
"I want this," Danny says, swiping a finger over Alan's lips, which are still swollen and sensitive. He sucks in a breath sharply through his teeth.
"I know," he says. His arms shake harder for a split second before they give out and he finds himself in a heap on top of Danny.
"You need to take a shower," Danny says after a moment. "Maybe later if there's time we can..."
"There's not going to be time," Alan says. He pushes himself off of Danny and gets to his feet. "There won't be time later. We can't..." He trails off, at a loss for how to end the sentence. There are so many things they can't do. They can't keep this up. They can't pretend nothing's wrong. They can't act like nothing's happened. They can't forget what's going to happen at the end of August.
"Take a shower," Danny says quietly. He won't look at Alan. "We'll do this one step at a time. Take a shower, sweetheart."
Alan turns the water on as hot as it will go and doesn't hate himself quite as much as he should when he jerks off to the memory of Danny's hands on his body.
***
July 18, 2003: 4:00pm
***
On the elevator ride up to Maternity, Alan keeps a gentle hand on the top of Elsie's head. Jason called half an hour ago to tell them that Justine's parents were at the hospital and that they should bring Elsie by. Justine was about to go under for her emergency c-section, and although he told them things would be fine, there was a nervous tension to his voice that set Alan's teeth on edge.
"Almost there," Danny says, because Danny's always been able to gauge Alan's moods just by standing next to him. "I'm sure everything is fine. You might have a new baby brother or sister when we get there, Elsie." Elsie cranes her neck to look up at Danny, but says nothing. She's picked up on the tension, although Alan can't be sure that she understands it, and she's also heard about the new baby brother or sister that she might have about twenty times since Danny buckled her into the car. Alan assumes that it's some combination of those two things that put the look of crabby irritation on her face.
The elevator pings on the fifth floor and the doors open to an elderly couple leaning against the wall of the waiting room.
"Gramma and Grampa!" Elsie shrieks, running up to the couple, probably relieved to escape the anxiety floating freely within the elevator. Both grandparents stoop to hug her before Alan thinks to check their expressions for clues as to what's going on. He takes a shaky breath and steps out into the hallway. He's a little surprised at how unsurprised he is when Danny takes his hand. He glances at Danny out of the corner of his eye, and when he sees that Danny is looking at him with the same hesitance, he intertwines their fingers.
"Is Jason around?" Alan starts to ask, but before either of Justine's parents can look up, Jason Mayer is rounding the corner. A huge grin is plastered across his face and he's holding a fistful of chocolate cigars.
"Adam Montgomery, seven pounds even, eighteen inches long, born two weeks early, healthy as a horse," he says. Alan's face goes from concerned to awe-struck to ecstatic in a matter of seconds, and Danny squeezes his hand, grinning from ear to ear.
"Jason, that's amazing," Alan says. "That's wonderful. Congratulations!"
"That's really something else," Danny says. "I know you had mentioned you were pulling for a boy." Jason grins at them and holds out two cigars. His eyes drop, though, from their faces to their linked hands.
"Uh... should I be congratulating you guys too? Are you...?" He shifts awkwardly as Alan and Danny let go and look away, guilt creeping into their expressions. Alan crosses his arms and looks at his shoes. "Forget I mentioned it," Jason says quickly. "Have a chocolate cigar. This is a happy day - my son was just born perfectly healthy, and my wife is already back to nagging me about things." Alan smiles politely and takes the chocolate, holding it in his fist and purposely not looking in Danny's direction.
"Daddy!" Elsie calls cheerfully, oblivious to the tension in the air between the three men. "Gramma and Grampa said mommy had the baby!" With a look of relief, Jason turns from Alan and Danny to pick up his daughter.
"Yes she did!" he says. "Do you want to go meet your baby brother Adam?"
"Yes!" she squeals.
"Justine will want to see you guys too," Jason calls over his shoulder as he takes Elsie down the hall. Alan chances a look at Danny as they follow. He's got his hands stuffed in his pockets and his head bowed. It takes Alan a moment to realize that he's mimicking Danny's position exactly.
They stand in the doorway as Elsie sits on the edge of the bed with her mother, talking excitedly to and about the new baby as Jason watches with a grin so wide it looks as though it will split his face in two. Justine looks pink and tired but happier than Alan has ever seen her. Two beautiful children, a husband who loves her, a job she enjoys... he can't blame her for looking like the luckiest woman in the world, and he can't help but smile at the way her eyes light up when she looks at the sleeping baby boy in her arms.
When he looks away from Justine, it only takes him a moment to feel Danny's eyes on him. He turns his head slightly and Danny looks away. He puts his hands back in his pockets and lets his hair - which is too long again, too long for summer - fall into his eyes. After a moment of hesitation, Alan reaches across the small gap and pulls Danny's hand free, interlocking their fingers once again. It's stupid, but it's far from the stupidest thing he's done today, which is both a disturbing and comforting thought. Danny tilts his head, the hair falling in his eyes again, and it's instinct as much as anything that has Alan raising his hand and brushing it back.
"That was really stupid," Danny whispers, before leaning in and pressing a ghost of a kiss to Alan's lips.
"Elsie, why don't you and Daddy go talk to Grandma and Grandpa for a few minutes while I feed the baby." Justine's voice rings out clearly over the sound of Alan's pulse throbbing in his ears, over the sound of his stomach bottoming out from the brush of Danny's hair against his forehead. He and Danny step out into the hallway, hands still clasped together, as Elsie and Jason slip out of the room. "Come in and close the door," Justine says.
"Should I wait out--" Danny starts to ask, but the glare that Justine sends him shuts him up before he can finish.
Once the door is closed, Alan leans against it and looks at the floor.
"So what is this?" she asks. "Is this--"
"It's nothing, Justine," Alan says quietly, dropping Danny's hand. "It's not anything. It's... it was a bad night." She nods as he crosses his arms again and tries not to look at Danny.
"You're looking better than you did yesterday, at least," she says. Alan glances up and shrugs. He's a little shocked that she let it go so quickly, but he can't say he's grateful for the change of subject, though from the look on her face, he has a feeling she hasn't put all the pieces together yet.
"Thank you," he says quietly.
"So, was it a good night's sleep or a decent meal that turned you from a zombie into a really pathetic looking but alive chemistry teacher?" She's not paying attention, rather, she's rocking the baby a little in her arms. He's glad for it, because he can feel his cheeks heating up.
"Uh, good night's sleep," he says quietly. He can't look at her and he can't look at Danny, so he studies his shoes. When he does glance up, Justine is staring at him, her mouth open.
"I can't believe how monumentally stupid the two of you are," she says.
"We've already addressed that," Danny says, scratching the back of his neck and looking away.
"You two are just so stupid!" Alan can hear the wobble in her voice that means that she's close to tears, so he steps forward and takes the baby from her arms. It's hard not to spend a moment admiring the sleepy newborn, even as his mother is nearly vibrating with fury.
"I'm going to step outside, I think," Danny says. Alan raises his eyebrows at Danny, but says nothing once Justine gestures him out.
"You're an idiot, Danny Stevens," she says as he leaves. "You love him and I think you're an absolute idiot."
"You're probably right," Danny says sadly, pushing the door shut behind him.
There are a million things that Alan wants to say to defend himself, but all of them sound useless on his ears.
"You are so stupid Alan," Justine whispers. "You are just so stupid. You had sex last night?" Alan bites his lip and nods. There's no use denying it. There's no reason to deny it - there's nothing she can say to him that will make him feel worse than he does already.
"I... it was something I needed, Justine," he says. "It was something he needed. It was stupid and wrong but I was scared and there was no one else. And I love him. Even through all of this I love him and it was... I almost fainted and he caught me and we sat together and... just to touch him, to have him touch me like that..." He closes his eyes. Just for tonight and tomorrow, they said. He already has regrets about "tonight" and "tomorrow" is almost over. "It was really, really stupid," he says, his voice cracking. "But I couldn't help it. But the thing is... Justine, it's not the first time it happened." His eyes are still squeezed shut and he's afraid to open them. He knows that Justine will be disappointed or pitying and he doesn't want to deal with either disappointment or pity right now. "Sometimes we fight and... we'll walk around all day angry and wordlessly... we'll just... without saying anything and the next morning we're back to being numb. We never talk about it. But last night was... last night was different, Justine, and that's why it hurts. It was about needing each other and I do still need him." He opens his eyes. Justine is crying almost as hard as he is.
"You two are so stupid," she says again. "You love each other so much and yet you can't work this out?"
Alan says nothing. There's nothing to say. The two of them, he and Danny, have approached it from every angle. They've fought over it from every angle. Danny can't stay in New York without quitting his job. Alan won't move to California unless Danny comes out of the closet. No matter how they try and cobble an arrangement together, nothing works out unless Danny comes out or quits his job. This is a battle the two of them will never win. If it were happening to someone else, Alan would tell them to try not to hold a grudge and to think fondly on the time they spent together. It's not happening to someone else, though, it's happening to him and he hasn't slept in three months and spends most of his free time making himself sick over thoughts of what comes after or crying himself hoarse over the fact that he managed to monumentally fuck up the best thing that ever happened to him.
"Give me the baby," Justine finally says after she's wiped her eyes. Alan does as he's told. Baby Adam is sleeping peacefully and even being passed back and forth doesn't wake him. "Go get Danny and tell a nurse that Adam needs to be put back in the nursery," she says. "Get my husband and daughter and parents, too. The seven of us are going to sit in here and have a nice, civil conversation before I send you all home so I can rant to Jason about how much I hate you and Danny and how I'm never buying a SaluCo greeting card ever again."
***
July 18, 2003: 5:30pm
***
The conversation is more than civil, it's normal. Danny puts his hands on Alan's shoulders, just like he used to. He laughs and smiles in all the right places, and Alan does the same. Justine's parents, who have only met Alan and Danny three or four times before, hardly notice anything is amiss. They're so good at pretending nothing's wrong, that by the time they're walking back to the parking lot, Alan almost feels the same way. Danny's arm is just barely brushing his own and they're both smiling and talking about baby Adam.
"I guess I just haven't been around enough babies, but I just can't believe how tiny he is," Danny says. "He weighs like... less than a grapefruit!"
"Closer to a jug of milk, but I get what you're saying," Alan says, bumping their shoulders together. "You'll have plenty of time to be around babies, you're young yet. And Cynthia's going to--" He wants to say that Cynthia's going to be popping them out soon enough, but the smile slips from his face as he remembers that in thirty-eight days Danny is going to be gone.
Danny catches onto the sudden silence before Alan can cover.
"Yeah," he says, touching Alan's wrist and then stuffing his hands in his pockets again.
"Danny," Alan says. He stops walking and takes Danny's arm, turning him so they're facing each other. "Are you still going to California?" he asks. Danny nods mutely. "Are you still keeping me from your family?" Danny nods again, his eyes cast down and guilty.
"I'm sorry," Danny says.
Alan sits down hard on the concrete steps down to the parking lot.
"This sucks," he says, blinking back tears. Danny sits next to him and slides an arm around his shoulders. They stay that way for a long time.
***
July 18, 2003: 7:30pm
***
They go to Francesca's because somewhere in the back of their minds, they know this is it. They haven't been out to eat together since April, and when they show up, Victor looks both shocked and concerned. He doesn't chat with them when he takes their order. In fact, he does his best to become invisible.
They don't talk while they eat. They stare at each other and at their plates, but they never speak.
The drive home is equally silent, although the space is filled with radio chatter and top forty hits. Aside from the silence, things seem almost normal. Danny's hand rests on the small of Alan's back as he unlocks the door, and once they're inside, Alan checks the answering machine while Danny sits on the couch and turns the television on, flipping idly through the channels with the sound on mute.
"There's nothing on," he says once Alan sits down next to him.
"I think I should move out," Alan says quietly. Danny turns to look at him, but before he can make eye contact, Alan looks at the floor. Making eye contact with Danny is just going to chisel away at his resolve. Sitting next to Danny is already chiseling away at his resolve. He should be doing this over the phone. He should be doing this somewhere far away from the house that he shares with the man that he loves. He should be doing this three months ago.
"What?" Danny finally says. "I mean... why?"
Alan gets to his feet, eyes still focused on the carpet, arms crossed tightly across his chest. "Justine and Jason said I could stay with them, and now with the baby around, I'm sure they could use the extra help," he says. There's an awkward, clunky silence. "You know why."
"No, I mean... I mean, there's a month left, Alan," Danny says. Alan hears the springs on the couch creak and knows that Danny is probably right behind him. "You've... you could have done this in April and now there's just a month left." He touches Alan's arm gingerly, nudges him just a little, and Alan turns around, taking his glasses off with one hand and rubbing his eyes with the back of it, the other still wrapped around his waist.
"It's thirty-eight days," he says, looking at Danny but seeing nothing more than a roughly human-shaped blur. "Thirty-eight days from today, and if I stay here, I don't know how I'm going to deal with this thirty-seven days from now, okay?"
"You want to walk away on your own terms," Danny says.
"No!" Alan insists. "No! I just... I want to be able to walk away at all! I can't sit here and sleep with you and hold your hand and let you kiss me on the mouth when I know that in a little over a month this is all going to be completely... this is it, Danny. I don't know why we can't say that out loud anymore. We said it before, we said it in March and April and now it's like if we don't talk about it, it won't happen. But it's going to happen no matter what we do! This. Is. It." His head hurts and it's hard to push Danny away when he reaches out, but Alan manages to do it anyway. "We made a stupid decision, Danny. Not just last night, not just today, we made a stupid decision four months ago when we decided to stay here, to stay together until we had to be apart. We thought we could go on like we had been and we were wrong, because this sucks. Because I spend every day by myself wishing I could do anything to stop feeling this way and you spend all day at work coming up with excuses not to see me because I break your heart. Because we spend every goddamned night in the same bed and neither of us actually sleeps because we can't stop thinking that this is it. This was a stupid fucking decision that made us both at least as miserable as we would have been apart. We need to stop this because I can't eat without getting sick and I can't sleep knowing that you're there with me and I can't fucking survive another month like this!"
When the silence begins to stretch, Alan puts his glasses back on.
"It's not a month, it's thirty-eight days," Danny says hoarsely. His eyes are wet, and he looks away quickly. "And you're right. It was a stupid decision and you're right about... you do break my heart. Because I promised you... I told you that I'd always be there for you. I told you to count on me. And this is my fault. I screwed this up. I ruined your life and I ruined my own that that's why I can't stand to look at you, to talk to you. That's why I can't be around you."
"I'm sorry," Alan says. He wraps his arms around himself again and stares over Danny's shoulder, out the bay window. He doesn't know what comes next. He knows that he should be in the bedroom, packing his bags. He should be upstairs getting his things together. Instead, he's bolted to the spot, resisting the urge to hold onto Danny.
"But Alan, please," he says. He wipes his eyes and looks up again, shaking a little. "We agreed to last night and today. It might have been an idiot idea, but we agreed to it and there are a few hours left to today. I don't want you to go, and I refuse to believe that a world where we're apart can be any better than a world where we're together and miserable, but can we talk about it tomorrow? Because I still love you and if I'm never going to get to demonstrate that ever again, all right, but I should at least have today."
It had been a terrible idea, putting all of this aside for one day. It was impossible and it was moronic, and they had known last night when the first kisses had started that it wasn't going to end well. But even if it was stupid, they had agreed, and Alan wanted it so badly that flimsy reasoning was enough for him. One more night wasn't going to make things worse. At this point, that was impossible.
Still...
"If I stay tonight," he says, forcing his voice to stay even. "I don't know if I'll be able to leave tomorrow."
"Then I will spend the next thirty-eight days sleeping with you and holding your hand and kissing you on the mouth and we'll deal with what happens after that when we get there," Danny says. He sounds uncertain, vulnerable. "I can't break your heart if you stay here, Alan, because I've broken it already. I've broken mine too. But leaving is smart, and if you want to leave, I understand that. You should leave. It's selfish of me to ask for anything else. Staying here is stupid."
The ferocity of Alan's kiss startles both of them and they end up tripping onto the couch.
"This isn't the stupidest thing I've done today," Alan whispers when they break apart. He's surprised at how comforting that is.
Prompt Set: Various 1
Prompt: 029; Birth
Ratings/Warnings: PG13ish? Mild swearing and homosexual sexual situations.
Author's Notes: Alan tries to deal with the end of his relationship. If by "deal" you mean "not sleep or eat or function normally." This takes place about five years after the stuff I've been posting thus far.
***
July 17, 2003: 3:30pm
***
"Alan," Justine says to him one afternoon when they're sitting on her porch. "You're killing yourself."
Alan glances up from the iced tea he's been nursing for an hour and tries his best to give her a skeptical look. It's not that he doesn't feel skeptical - he doesn't have to force the feeling, but he's found it hard to look anything other than devastated for the past few weeks. For the past few months, even.
"You know what I mean," Justine says, and from the look of heart-breaking sympathy on her face, he can tell that he didn't succeed at changing his expression. "Honey, you can't keep this up. You can't keep living with Danny. Move in here, please. This is destroying you and it's destroying him, too. You've lost like, fifteen pounds and you've had these dark circles under your eyes since April. You're killing yourself to do this." She reaches across the wicker table and takes his hands in her own, forcing him to look at her. She's got the healthy glow of a very pregnant woman, and Alan can hear three-year-old Elsie giggling with Jason in the pool. She looks happy, serene, except for the darkness in her eyes that she's focusing on him. He hates himself a little for ruining her life like this, but not enough to stop.
"I'm fine, Justine," he says quietly. Everything is quiet now. He speaks quietly, he moves quietly, he tries to breathe quietly, but despite the quiet, every move he makes still shatters his eardrums. Especially when he's alone. Especially when he's with Danny.
"You're not fine, Alan!" she insists. "You don't eat! You don't sleep!" He swallows hard and looks away from her. He hopes that the sun is reflecting off his glasses at least enough so that she can't tell that there are tears pooling in his eyes, and he keeps swallowing sobs because she's right - she's right about everything, she's right that he's killing himself, but mostly she's right about this. He doesn't sleep. He lies awake in bed all night with Danny's arms securely around him because he can't help but think, There are a finite number of nights like this. He can't help but think that although Danny whispered 'forever' into his hair when they laughed and danced and fucked, it's not going to be forever, it's going to be until August twenty-fifth and then it's going to be over.
He lies awake at night and lets Danny hold him because he's not strong enough to leave. He knows that Justine is right - he can't stay with Danny knowing that the end is so near. Still, he can't bring himself to break away from the one thing he thought he needed to be happy.
The days are just as bad, especially now that summer is upon them. He has all morning and afternoon with nothing to do until his evening Astronomy lectures at the Planetarium. He's taken to spending all morning in bed, waiting until three or four o'clock to shower and change. He wanders the house in a daze, staring at the life he's spent the last five years building. He's like a ghost in his own house, stopping short of touching the remnants of his past life - photographs, souvenirs, odds and ends, things that pile up on counters and mantles. He wanders through the rooms, or sits on the couch with the cat, staring out the window waiting for nothing.
In the old days, the better days, the summers of years past, he would spend the day reading or shopping. He'd substitute at summer school or volunteer at the library. He'd meet Danny for lunch at the office and kiss him goodbye and ask what he wanted for dinner. They'd eat quickly and Alan would be off to the Planetarium, knowing that Danny would be waiting with ice cream and cold beer and kisses when he got home.
Days like today, Justine pries Alan out of the house with a promise of conversation and lunch. It's only July and she's already had him over almost two dozen times even though she should be relaxing instead of running around town trying to keep him entertained. She does her best to keep him as far away from Danny as possible. Their lunches are at her house or on the opposite end of town from Danny's office. She invites him to dinner nearly every night, even though she knows Danny makes excuses to stay late at work. Sometimes she even drives to the Planetarium to convince him to stay the night at her house.
He never accepts. He can't.
"Justine," he says after what feels like a lifetime. His throat is still slick with tears, but he's fairly confident he can speak without crying. "I can't explain it to you. I can't even explain it to myself. But I need to be with him. I can't stop being with him until I have to. You're... you're not wrong about what it's doing to me, but I can't stop yet." He swallows again, hard, and just barely in time. He feels the sob vibrating in his stomach and the salad he's been picking at all afternoon is suddenly even less appetizing than it was before.
Justine is silent for a long time, and he's thankful for that. He has a feeling that the silence is as much for her to collect herself as it is for him, but he's grateful all the same. Her eyes are too bright when she looks up, too bright and too sad. The self-hatred bubbles up again, but as always, the visceral need to hold onto Danny until he absolutely has to go is stronger than his desire to make Justine happy.
"The baby's getting fidgety," she says finally. "Come feel." Alan pushes his chair out only after he's certain his legs will hold him up. He joins her on the bench she's lounging on, laying a hand over her stomach and resting his head on her shoulder. She's nice enough not to mention his tears.
***
July 17, 6:00pm
***
Danny doesn't stay late at work, probably because it's the middle of July and business of greeting cards and gifts is slow. He looks embarrassed when he walks in at six o'clock, but Alan doesn't ask why. He never asks anything anymore.
"Hi," he says, leaning against the entryway to the kitchen and crossing his arms.
"Hi," Danny says. He scratches the back of his neck and looks away, placing his briefcase next to the couch with far too much concentration, far too much care. They don't know how to speak to each other anymore. By the time school was winding down in June it was already a struggle, but now that Alan is alone all day and gone all night it's just too easy to find excuses not to. April, May, and June were only filled with variations of the same conversation - "Don't go." "I have to go. Come with me." "I can't." "How can you let this happen?" "How can you let this happen?" - so it's almost a relief to move past it.
When Danny looks like he wants to move towards the kitchen, Alan quickly gets out of his way and sits on the couch. Rusty wanders into the room to join him, mistaking this for their near daily vigil of the squirrels across the street. Alan's grateful for the company, grateful that the sometimes-snobbish cat seems to have sensed the trouble with his owners and made himself as agreeable as possible since March. Alan scratches behind Rusty's ears and rests his head against the back of the couch, curling up on his side and closing his eyes. It's going to be a long evening of stilted silence and aborted touches and already he can feel a headache blossoming behind his eyes.
***
July 17, 2003: 11:00pm
***
When he gets home from the Planetarium, Danny is waiting for him on the couch. This in itself is odd - their routine doesn't work this way. Their routine is Danny in bed, reading a book or pretending to sleep. Their routine is Alan coming to bed around eleven and Danny wordlessly wrapping his arms around him. Danny sitting on the couch, reading a book with worried eyes is startling and wrong, enough to set Alan on edge.
"What's wrong?" he says almost before the door is closed behind him.
"Jason called about an hour ago," Danny says, not looking at him, looking, instead, at his book as he takes great care in marking his page and closing it. "I tried to get you at work but they said--"
"Oh god," Alan says. He's dizzy.
"They said you'd already left," Danny continues. He still won't look at Alan. "He had to take Justine to the hospital. Something... they don't know what's wrong, the baby is in distress. Everything should be fine but..." He trails off, finally chancing a glance at Alan, who can feel the color draining from his face.
"I just... today, I just felt the baby kicking... today, at lunch, I... oh god," he whispers. He's dizzy and seeing spots. He's not sure how he's going to get to the couch because he has to squeeze his eyes shut and even then he sways on his feet.
"Christ, Alan..." he hears Danny say, and before his legs go out Danny's right beside him, holding him up, holding him close, holding him in the lamplight which is more than he's done in weeks. He clings to Danny blindly as they limp towards the couch. "Did you eat anything today?" Danny asks. Alan opens his eyes and stumbles to sit down. He's surprised when Danny pulls him onto his lap, cradling him close.
"I..." He's so startled by it, in fact, that he has to think hard to remember if he's eaten. "I had a salad at Justine's this afternoon," he says finally. It's not a lie - he did eat some of it. He finished the croutons, at least, and most of the cucumbers before becoming too nauseated by his own actions to eat the rest. "God, Danny, she made me the salad. I told her not to, but she got up and ran around the kitchen making me a salad and then six hours later..." He knows it's a bad idea to twist his arms around Danny's waist, to rest against his shoulder. It's a terrible idea - today is July 17th, which means only thirty-nine days until this is over for good. He can't stop, though. It's instinct, just as he knows it's instinct for Danny to pet his hair and rub his back like nothing has changed.
"You need to eat more than that," Danny says. His lips are close to Alan's scalp. He can feel the tiny exhales, the flutter of Danny's breath in his hair. "You're going to pass out." He doesn't say, 'You're skinny enough as it is,' but Alan can feel the words in the way that Danny's fingers dance over his protruding ribs and in the way that he presses guilty little kisses to the top of Alan's head. Danny, for his part, looks just as gorgeous as he did on the day they met, save for the dark circles under his eyes. Alan wants to hate him for it, especially when he looks in the mirror and sees the weight he's lost, the color he's lost, the life he's lost, but he can't bring himself to summon much more than envy.
"Oh god, Justine," Alan whispers again, fisting his hands in the back of Danny's t-shirt. "I can't believe this..."
"She'll be fine," Danny says, and it's clear he doesn't feel that sort of confidence. "Don't worry, sweetheart, she'll be fine." Danny hasn't called him 'sweetheart' in weeks. Alan hates himself for taking the time to notice that. "Jason sounded very optimistic on the phone. He also wanted to know if you could watch Elsie tomorrow. She's with Mrs. Crenshaw across the street for now, but Mrs. Crenshaw has plans for tomorrow afternoon and someone needs to watch Elsie."
"Of course," Alan says. "Of course I can do that. I'll... I'll pick her up in the afternoon or Mrs. Crenshaw can drop her here, or..." Danny tenses for a moment, and Alan can hear the question before it's even asked.
"Do you want me to... I could... I can call in to work," Danny says slowly. "If you wanted me to. If you wanted company." Even with the extra split second to decide on an answer, Alan still isn't sure of what to say. He knows what he wants to say, but he also knows this could be the worst decision he can make. In the end, the comfort of Danny's chest rising and falling right next to his wins out over practicality and common sense.
"Yes," he says. "I'd... please." This is more conversation than they've had in recent memory. He knows it's a dangerous road to travel down - 'thirty-nine' days is running through his head like a warning bell - but he's vulnerable and he wants this comfort, mostly because he knows this could be his last chance to have it.
"Okay," Danny says. "I'll be here." Alan can feel Danny's heart speed up for a moment. He can feel the tension in Danny's body, the sudden flex of his muscles. He can almost feel the gears in Danny's head grinding. "Alan," he says hesitantly. "I... just for tonight and tomorrow. Let me... please." It would be so easy to pretend he doesn't follow, to pretend that their ability to understand each other has faded away, much like their ability to hold a conversation. It would be easy, but Alan's body is betraying him, his hands shaking in response, his pulse suddenly racing. He wants to cry, mostly because he can't stop himself from looking up, making eye contact with Danny, and nodding.
"Just... just for tonight and tomorrow," he manages to reply. Danny is already shifting around, sliding back so that Alan is straddling his lap. "Just because I can't... I need..." Danny unbuttons his shirt almost reverently, caressing Alan's face and chest with shaking hands.
"Just because you need... I need... I don't..." Alan feels Danny's words against his throat and closes his eyes, blinking back tears.
"This is so wrong," he says. "This is so incredibly wrong." He thinks he might be sick, but the feeling doubles when Danny's hands move away.
"I'm sorry," he says quickly. "I'm sorry, you're right. We can stop."
Alan kisses him on the mouth before either of them can really consider it.
***
July 18, 2003: 12:00 pm
***
Alan wakes slowly and from a dream he can't quite grasp. For the first time in weeks he feels rested and content and he can't help but attribute that to the fact that he's not alone in bed.
"I didn't want to wake you," Danny says, his voice soft and almost reverent. "I can tell you haven't been sleeping well." Alan's eyes are still closed, but he can feel Danny around him - breath on his throat, fingers splayed across his back. It's not hard to slip back into old habits, so he's not really surprised that the first thing he does, before even reaching for his glasses or opening his eyes, is to pull Danny down for a sleepy good morning kiss. He realizes half a second later what a bad choice that is, but Danny responds to the kiss, pressing another to Alan's forehead once they break apart.
"That was..." Alan starts to say, but trails off once he opens his eyes. They both know how stupid that was. This is going to be a rough day, and there's really no need to have that conversation right now.
Danny hands him his glasses before he can even ask. "You know," he says as Alan puts them on. "You are still everything you ever were to me. That hasn't changed. That will never change, Alan." Of course it's easy for him to say that now, or at least that's what Alan bitterly thinks as he blinks back the sleep in his eyes. It's easy to say that during a truce.
"What time is it?" he asks. "I should..." He starts to sit up, his mind whirling with memories of recent events. "I need to call Jason or Justine and... Elsie's supposed... I need to get..." Danny puts a hand on his chest, easing him back against the pillows.
"Don't worry about it," he says. "I talked to Jason earlier and then again an hour or so ago. Justine and the baby are fine for now. They're both stable, but the doctor is nervous so they're going to do an emergency c-section later this afternoon if nothing changes. Mrs. Crenshaw is going to drop Elsie off here on her way to the hair dresser's, so they should be here any minute. I called into work, and I called the Planetarium and told them you needed the night off. They're calling your replacement in for a test run. Everything's okay." Another reason why Alan is loath to see Danny go, besides the fact that it's breaking his heart, besides the fact that he's not sure how he can stand to be without him, besides the fact that he loves him more than he's ever loved another living thing, is that instead of panicking over things, Danny manages. He makes the phone calls, he sets the arrangements, he even picks out appropriate outfits. Whenever he gets uneasy, Danny puts it out of his mind by organizing things, and that's a trait that Alan really wishes he had himself.
"Okay," Alan says to Danny. "Thank you. I should..." He starts to sit up again, swallowing the lump that rises in his throat at the feeling of Danny's hand sliding down his bare chest. "I should take a shower and get dressed if Elsie's going to be here soon."
"Yeah, you should do that," Danny says, pulling his hand away.
Alan rolls over on top of Danny, pressing him into the mattress and kissing him desperately and without restraint.
"We can't do this," Danny says, framing Alan's face with his hands, pulling him up and away.
"I know," Alan breathes. They stay like that for a moment, tangled together and panting.
"There's no time," Danny says.
"I know," Alan says.
"It's not that I don't want to," Danny says. "God, Alan, I miss you so much. Every day I miss you."
"I know," Alan says again. His arms start to shake from the strain of holding himself up over Danny.
"I want this," Danny says, swiping a finger over Alan's lips, which are still swollen and sensitive. He sucks in a breath sharply through his teeth.
"I know," he says. His arms shake harder for a split second before they give out and he finds himself in a heap on top of Danny.
"You need to take a shower," Danny says after a moment. "Maybe later if there's time we can..."
"There's not going to be time," Alan says. He pushes himself off of Danny and gets to his feet. "There won't be time later. We can't..." He trails off, at a loss for how to end the sentence. There are so many things they can't do. They can't keep this up. They can't pretend nothing's wrong. They can't act like nothing's happened. They can't forget what's going to happen at the end of August.
"Take a shower," Danny says quietly. He won't look at Alan. "We'll do this one step at a time. Take a shower, sweetheart."
Alan turns the water on as hot as it will go and doesn't hate himself quite as much as he should when he jerks off to the memory of Danny's hands on his body.
***
July 18, 2003: 4:00pm
***
On the elevator ride up to Maternity, Alan keeps a gentle hand on the top of Elsie's head. Jason called half an hour ago to tell them that Justine's parents were at the hospital and that they should bring Elsie by. Justine was about to go under for her emergency c-section, and although he told them things would be fine, there was a nervous tension to his voice that set Alan's teeth on edge.
"Almost there," Danny says, because Danny's always been able to gauge Alan's moods just by standing next to him. "I'm sure everything is fine. You might have a new baby brother or sister when we get there, Elsie." Elsie cranes her neck to look up at Danny, but says nothing. She's picked up on the tension, although Alan can't be sure that she understands it, and she's also heard about the new baby brother or sister that she might have about twenty times since Danny buckled her into the car. Alan assumes that it's some combination of those two things that put the look of crabby irritation on her face.
The elevator pings on the fifth floor and the doors open to an elderly couple leaning against the wall of the waiting room.
"Gramma and Grampa!" Elsie shrieks, running up to the couple, probably relieved to escape the anxiety floating freely within the elevator. Both grandparents stoop to hug her before Alan thinks to check their expressions for clues as to what's going on. He takes a shaky breath and steps out into the hallway. He's a little surprised at how unsurprised he is when Danny takes his hand. He glances at Danny out of the corner of his eye, and when he sees that Danny is looking at him with the same hesitance, he intertwines their fingers.
"Is Jason around?" Alan starts to ask, but before either of Justine's parents can look up, Jason Mayer is rounding the corner. A huge grin is plastered across his face and he's holding a fistful of chocolate cigars.
"Adam Montgomery, seven pounds even, eighteen inches long, born two weeks early, healthy as a horse," he says. Alan's face goes from concerned to awe-struck to ecstatic in a matter of seconds, and Danny squeezes his hand, grinning from ear to ear.
"Jason, that's amazing," Alan says. "That's wonderful. Congratulations!"
"That's really something else," Danny says. "I know you had mentioned you were pulling for a boy." Jason grins at them and holds out two cigars. His eyes drop, though, from their faces to their linked hands.
"Uh... should I be congratulating you guys too? Are you...?" He shifts awkwardly as Alan and Danny let go and look away, guilt creeping into their expressions. Alan crosses his arms and looks at his shoes. "Forget I mentioned it," Jason says quickly. "Have a chocolate cigar. This is a happy day - my son was just born perfectly healthy, and my wife is already back to nagging me about things." Alan smiles politely and takes the chocolate, holding it in his fist and purposely not looking in Danny's direction.
"Daddy!" Elsie calls cheerfully, oblivious to the tension in the air between the three men. "Gramma and Grampa said mommy had the baby!" With a look of relief, Jason turns from Alan and Danny to pick up his daughter.
"Yes she did!" he says. "Do you want to go meet your baby brother Adam?"
"Yes!" she squeals.
"Justine will want to see you guys too," Jason calls over his shoulder as he takes Elsie down the hall. Alan chances a look at Danny as they follow. He's got his hands stuffed in his pockets and his head bowed. It takes Alan a moment to realize that he's mimicking Danny's position exactly.
They stand in the doorway as Elsie sits on the edge of the bed with her mother, talking excitedly to and about the new baby as Jason watches with a grin so wide it looks as though it will split his face in two. Justine looks pink and tired but happier than Alan has ever seen her. Two beautiful children, a husband who loves her, a job she enjoys... he can't blame her for looking like the luckiest woman in the world, and he can't help but smile at the way her eyes light up when she looks at the sleeping baby boy in her arms.
When he looks away from Justine, it only takes him a moment to feel Danny's eyes on him. He turns his head slightly and Danny looks away. He puts his hands back in his pockets and lets his hair - which is too long again, too long for summer - fall into his eyes. After a moment of hesitation, Alan reaches across the small gap and pulls Danny's hand free, interlocking their fingers once again. It's stupid, but it's far from the stupidest thing he's done today, which is both a disturbing and comforting thought. Danny tilts his head, the hair falling in his eyes again, and it's instinct as much as anything that has Alan raising his hand and brushing it back.
"That was really stupid," Danny whispers, before leaning in and pressing a ghost of a kiss to Alan's lips.
"Elsie, why don't you and Daddy go talk to Grandma and Grandpa for a few minutes while I feed the baby." Justine's voice rings out clearly over the sound of Alan's pulse throbbing in his ears, over the sound of his stomach bottoming out from the brush of Danny's hair against his forehead. He and Danny step out into the hallway, hands still clasped together, as Elsie and Jason slip out of the room. "Come in and close the door," Justine says.
"Should I wait out--" Danny starts to ask, but the glare that Justine sends him shuts him up before he can finish.
Once the door is closed, Alan leans against it and looks at the floor.
"So what is this?" she asks. "Is this--"
"It's nothing, Justine," Alan says quietly, dropping Danny's hand. "It's not anything. It's... it was a bad night." She nods as he crosses his arms again and tries not to look at Danny.
"You're looking better than you did yesterday, at least," she says. Alan glances up and shrugs. He's a little shocked that she let it go so quickly, but he can't say he's grateful for the change of subject, though from the look on her face, he has a feeling she hasn't put all the pieces together yet.
"Thank you," he says quietly.
"So, was it a good night's sleep or a decent meal that turned you from a zombie into a really pathetic looking but alive chemistry teacher?" She's not paying attention, rather, she's rocking the baby a little in her arms. He's glad for it, because he can feel his cheeks heating up.
"Uh, good night's sleep," he says quietly. He can't look at her and he can't look at Danny, so he studies his shoes. When he does glance up, Justine is staring at him, her mouth open.
"I can't believe how monumentally stupid the two of you are," she says.
"We've already addressed that," Danny says, scratching the back of his neck and looking away.
"You two are just so stupid!" Alan can hear the wobble in her voice that means that she's close to tears, so he steps forward and takes the baby from her arms. It's hard not to spend a moment admiring the sleepy newborn, even as his mother is nearly vibrating with fury.
"I'm going to step outside, I think," Danny says. Alan raises his eyebrows at Danny, but says nothing once Justine gestures him out.
"You're an idiot, Danny Stevens," she says as he leaves. "You love him and I think you're an absolute idiot."
"You're probably right," Danny says sadly, pushing the door shut behind him.
There are a million things that Alan wants to say to defend himself, but all of them sound useless on his ears.
"You are so stupid Alan," Justine whispers. "You are just so stupid. You had sex last night?" Alan bites his lip and nods. There's no use denying it. There's no reason to deny it - there's nothing she can say to him that will make him feel worse than he does already.
"I... it was something I needed, Justine," he says. "It was something he needed. It was stupid and wrong but I was scared and there was no one else. And I love him. Even through all of this I love him and it was... I almost fainted and he caught me and we sat together and... just to touch him, to have him touch me like that..." He closes his eyes. Just for tonight and tomorrow, they said. He already has regrets about "tonight" and "tomorrow" is almost over. "It was really, really stupid," he says, his voice cracking. "But I couldn't help it. But the thing is... Justine, it's not the first time it happened." His eyes are still squeezed shut and he's afraid to open them. He knows that Justine will be disappointed or pitying and he doesn't want to deal with either disappointment or pity right now. "Sometimes we fight and... we'll walk around all day angry and wordlessly... we'll just... without saying anything and the next morning we're back to being numb. We never talk about it. But last night was... last night was different, Justine, and that's why it hurts. It was about needing each other and I do still need him." He opens his eyes. Justine is crying almost as hard as he is.
"You two are so stupid," she says again. "You love each other so much and yet you can't work this out?"
Alan says nothing. There's nothing to say. The two of them, he and Danny, have approached it from every angle. They've fought over it from every angle. Danny can't stay in New York without quitting his job. Alan won't move to California unless Danny comes out of the closet. No matter how they try and cobble an arrangement together, nothing works out unless Danny comes out or quits his job. This is a battle the two of them will never win. If it were happening to someone else, Alan would tell them to try not to hold a grudge and to think fondly on the time they spent together. It's not happening to someone else, though, it's happening to him and he hasn't slept in three months and spends most of his free time making himself sick over thoughts of what comes after or crying himself hoarse over the fact that he managed to monumentally fuck up the best thing that ever happened to him.
"Give me the baby," Justine finally says after she's wiped her eyes. Alan does as he's told. Baby Adam is sleeping peacefully and even being passed back and forth doesn't wake him. "Go get Danny and tell a nurse that Adam needs to be put back in the nursery," she says. "Get my husband and daughter and parents, too. The seven of us are going to sit in here and have a nice, civil conversation before I send you all home so I can rant to Jason about how much I hate you and Danny and how I'm never buying a SaluCo greeting card ever again."
***
July 18, 2003: 5:30pm
***
The conversation is more than civil, it's normal. Danny puts his hands on Alan's shoulders, just like he used to. He laughs and smiles in all the right places, and Alan does the same. Justine's parents, who have only met Alan and Danny three or four times before, hardly notice anything is amiss. They're so good at pretending nothing's wrong, that by the time they're walking back to the parking lot, Alan almost feels the same way. Danny's arm is just barely brushing his own and they're both smiling and talking about baby Adam.
"I guess I just haven't been around enough babies, but I just can't believe how tiny he is," Danny says. "He weighs like... less than a grapefruit!"
"Closer to a jug of milk, but I get what you're saying," Alan says, bumping their shoulders together. "You'll have plenty of time to be around babies, you're young yet. And Cynthia's going to--" He wants to say that Cynthia's going to be popping them out soon enough, but the smile slips from his face as he remembers that in thirty-eight days Danny is going to be gone.
Danny catches onto the sudden silence before Alan can cover.
"Yeah," he says, touching Alan's wrist and then stuffing his hands in his pockets again.
"Danny," Alan says. He stops walking and takes Danny's arm, turning him so they're facing each other. "Are you still going to California?" he asks. Danny nods mutely. "Are you still keeping me from your family?" Danny nods again, his eyes cast down and guilty.
"I'm sorry," Danny says.
Alan sits down hard on the concrete steps down to the parking lot.
"This sucks," he says, blinking back tears. Danny sits next to him and slides an arm around his shoulders. They stay that way for a long time.
***
July 18, 2003: 7:30pm
***
They go to Francesca's because somewhere in the back of their minds, they know this is it. They haven't been out to eat together since April, and when they show up, Victor looks both shocked and concerned. He doesn't chat with them when he takes their order. In fact, he does his best to become invisible.
They don't talk while they eat. They stare at each other and at their plates, but they never speak.
The drive home is equally silent, although the space is filled with radio chatter and top forty hits. Aside from the silence, things seem almost normal. Danny's hand rests on the small of Alan's back as he unlocks the door, and once they're inside, Alan checks the answering machine while Danny sits on the couch and turns the television on, flipping idly through the channels with the sound on mute.
"There's nothing on," he says once Alan sits down next to him.
"I think I should move out," Alan says quietly. Danny turns to look at him, but before he can make eye contact, Alan looks at the floor. Making eye contact with Danny is just going to chisel away at his resolve. Sitting next to Danny is already chiseling away at his resolve. He should be doing this over the phone. He should be doing this somewhere far away from the house that he shares with the man that he loves. He should be doing this three months ago.
"What?" Danny finally says. "I mean... why?"
Alan gets to his feet, eyes still focused on the carpet, arms crossed tightly across his chest. "Justine and Jason said I could stay with them, and now with the baby around, I'm sure they could use the extra help," he says. There's an awkward, clunky silence. "You know why."
"No, I mean... I mean, there's a month left, Alan," Danny says. Alan hears the springs on the couch creak and knows that Danny is probably right behind him. "You've... you could have done this in April and now there's just a month left." He touches Alan's arm gingerly, nudges him just a little, and Alan turns around, taking his glasses off with one hand and rubbing his eyes with the back of it, the other still wrapped around his waist.
"It's thirty-eight days," he says, looking at Danny but seeing nothing more than a roughly human-shaped blur. "Thirty-eight days from today, and if I stay here, I don't know how I'm going to deal with this thirty-seven days from now, okay?"
"You want to walk away on your own terms," Danny says.
"No!" Alan insists. "No! I just... I want to be able to walk away at all! I can't sit here and sleep with you and hold your hand and let you kiss me on the mouth when I know that in a little over a month this is all going to be completely... this is it, Danny. I don't know why we can't say that out loud anymore. We said it before, we said it in March and April and now it's like if we don't talk about it, it won't happen. But it's going to happen no matter what we do! This. Is. It." His head hurts and it's hard to push Danny away when he reaches out, but Alan manages to do it anyway. "We made a stupid decision, Danny. Not just last night, not just today, we made a stupid decision four months ago when we decided to stay here, to stay together until we had to be apart. We thought we could go on like we had been and we were wrong, because this sucks. Because I spend every day by myself wishing I could do anything to stop feeling this way and you spend all day at work coming up with excuses not to see me because I break your heart. Because we spend every goddamned night in the same bed and neither of us actually sleeps because we can't stop thinking that this is it. This was a stupid fucking decision that made us both at least as miserable as we would have been apart. We need to stop this because I can't eat without getting sick and I can't sleep knowing that you're there with me and I can't fucking survive another month like this!"
When the silence begins to stretch, Alan puts his glasses back on.
"It's not a month, it's thirty-eight days," Danny says hoarsely. His eyes are wet, and he looks away quickly. "And you're right. It was a stupid decision and you're right about... you do break my heart. Because I promised you... I told you that I'd always be there for you. I told you to count on me. And this is my fault. I screwed this up. I ruined your life and I ruined my own that that's why I can't stand to look at you, to talk to you. That's why I can't be around you."
"I'm sorry," Alan says. He wraps his arms around himself again and stares over Danny's shoulder, out the bay window. He doesn't know what comes next. He knows that he should be in the bedroom, packing his bags. He should be upstairs getting his things together. Instead, he's bolted to the spot, resisting the urge to hold onto Danny.
"But Alan, please," he says. He wipes his eyes and looks up again, shaking a little. "We agreed to last night and today. It might have been an idiot idea, but we agreed to it and there are a few hours left to today. I don't want you to go, and I refuse to believe that a world where we're apart can be any better than a world where we're together and miserable, but can we talk about it tomorrow? Because I still love you and if I'm never going to get to demonstrate that ever again, all right, but I should at least have today."
It had been a terrible idea, putting all of this aside for one day. It was impossible and it was moronic, and they had known last night when the first kisses had started that it wasn't going to end well. But even if it was stupid, they had agreed, and Alan wanted it so badly that flimsy reasoning was enough for him. One more night wasn't going to make things worse. At this point, that was impossible.
Still...
"If I stay tonight," he says, forcing his voice to stay even. "I don't know if I'll be able to leave tomorrow."
"Then I will spend the next thirty-eight days sleeping with you and holding your hand and kissing you on the mouth and we'll deal with what happens after that when we get there," Danny says. He sounds uncertain, vulnerable. "I can't break your heart if you stay here, Alan, because I've broken it already. I've broken mine too. But leaving is smart, and if you want to leave, I understand that. You should leave. It's selfish of me to ask for anything else. Staying here is stupid."
The ferocity of Alan's kiss startles both of them and they end up tripping onto the couch.
"This isn't the stupidest thing I've done today," Alan whispers when they break apart. He's surprised at how comforting that is.