My Heart Was Blinded By You (It's a Bittersweet Victory); Friberg/Levesque
Title: My Heart Was Blinded By You (It's a Bittersweet Victory)
Pairing: Erik Friberg/Roger Levesque
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 8,260
Summary: Roger thinks the bitterest part of all of this is that they do love each other but it's not enough. He'll never hate Erik, he can't. A part of him knows he'll always love Erik, but with time he'll move on. They'll both move on because that's the card that life has dealt them. Roger has to grasp that life will continue without Erik. That is what scares and upsets him more than anything.
Author wh_mermaid
Beta: albion_lass
Mixer: luxover, the Mike to my Roger tbh <3
Download Mix Here
November and December have been unusually warm so far this year, barely dipping below 50 degrees. Roger likes that he doesn't have to wear a sweater when he goes for his morning jog. On the weekend no one is ever up before he is, and the only other sound beside the occasional bird or passing car is his breathing. The sun's been out for a few days, a rarity for this time of year in a city whose two seasons are summer and gray. It's clear enough that the snowcapped peaks of the Olympics linger in the distance. The view brings a sort of breathless smile to his face. Roger loves that Seattle can still bring that smile to his face after so many years.
It's a quick two mile run today, he's still worn out from last night, and he picks up the newspaper in his driveway as he stumbles back into the house. Grabbing a protein shake from the fridge, he downs it as he kicks off his shoes and nudges them into the hallway closet. Tossing the empty bottle into the recycling bin, Roger quietly creeps up the stairs so he doesn't wake his roommates. Opening the door to his room, he bites his lip and grins as he sees Erik is still passed out, hair messily spilled in every direction and arms around a pillow in Roger's absence.
Silently crossing the room, Roger grabs a towel and enters his bathroom, turning the water in his shower on and tossing his sweaty clothes into the laundry hamper. Stepping under the warm water, he sighs as it washes away the smell of running and sex. He's in the middle of washing his hair when the door to the bathroom opens and Erik stumbles in, still half asleep. Roger smiles as Erik brushes his teeth and then slides the shower door open, clumsily stepping in next to him. Erik presses himself against Roger, standing on his toes to steal a kiss that tastes like toothpaste and protein shakes.
It's too early for words, but not for uncoordinated hand jobs. Erik has Roger pressed against the cold tiles, his lips attached to Roger's collarbone and neck, as his hand moves slowly to bring them both to orgasm. Roger loves the noise Erik always makes, a mix between a sigh and a pained grunt, before he collapses against him, their stomachs sticky with come that eventually washes away. Roger wraps a hand around the back of Erik's neck, plants a kiss on his temple, and thanks a higher power that he has Erik in his life.
The water always goes lukewarm and eventually cold as they finish their shower in companionable silence. Dressing quickly, they go downstairs where Mike is playing Fifa. He chucks a controller at Erik who collapses on the couch as Roger grabs the crossword from the newspaper. As he sits on the other end of the couch, Roger knows that in the next 45 minutes Taylor will bounce down the stairs and make pancakes for everyone, or maybe even waffles if he's feeling particularly adventurous. Normally they'd watch a movie afterward but not today. Roger has to take Erik to the airport today so he can spend the holidays back in Sweden with his family. It's selfish to want Erik to stay in Seattle and spend Christmas with them, but Roger knows how close Erik is to his family who he hasn't seen since August. Roger wants Erik to be happy more than he wants anything else.
*
"I'll be back for New Years," Erik smiles at him as they roll up to the airport. "It's not that long."
"I know," Roger mumbles, cursing at a Lexus that cuts him off.
Erik's smiles are sweet and have a vaguely dreamy quality to them. He leans forward and brushes a kiss across Roger's cheek, interlaces their fingers, and squeezes his hand. Roger laughs, pushes Erik away before he starts nuzzling him and makes him crash. Pulling over, he puts the car in park before helping Erik pull a bag out of the trunk. Erik looks nice- jeans that fit, a tight sweater, and a coordinating belt and shoes. European, half of the team would say while they laughed at Erik who would never understand the joke. Erik's clueless laughs make him that much more endearing.
"Call me when you get there."
"It will be 3 in the morning over here."
"I don't care. I want to make sure you're safe."
Erik grins and flicks Roger's cheek. He leans in for a hug, murmurs "I love you", and is gone. Getting back into his car, Roger sighs and tells himself that sixteen days isn't that long and Erik will be back before he knows it.
*
The truth is Erik doesn't feel like he's going home. He feels like he's going to Sweden to see his family, a visit. Once upon a time it felt like home, when he was going back to see Emma, but it's not like that anymore. Seattle feels like home now. Roger feels like home now. He looks at his wrist, at the little heart Roger had doodled on it while thinking of an answer for his crossword puzzle. As he brushes a finger across it, he grins and doesn't feel as alone.
Erik's known Roger for almost a year, but he feels like it's been longer than that. They've been together exclusively for five months. The two months before that were filled with guilt and tension on Erik's part; he and Emma had grown apart, but weren't officially broken up at that point. It doesn't matter though, as she accepted his relationship with Roger gracefully, just like Erik knew she would.
In the back of his mind he knows that seven months is not a long time, but there is something about Roger that puts Erik completely to ease. He always knows exactly where they stand and for Roger, Erik doesn't need to pretend to be something he's not. Roger understands him and even though Erik doesn't always understand Roger, or his jokes, he knows that's okay. Sixteen days is going to be an unbearably long time.
*
"You're moping."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Taylor, is Roger moping?"
"Yes."
Roger shifts on the couch and glares at his two roommates. Erik's not even been gone a day and he's already staring at the ceiling and wondering what he did before Erik was in his life. Lie around and stare at the ceiling probably. Or read and do crosswords, but he's already done the crossword for today and read a book. He starts as he feels Mike poke him.
"Are you going to be like this for the next few weeks?"
Roger doesn't respond, just grabs the remote and finds a NCIS marathon on TV to watch. As he sits back and watches Gibbs berate Tony for something, he tries to let his mind wander away from Erik. It doesn't work though and soon he's thinking about last night with a silly little smile on his face and Mike is staring at him like he doesn't know who Roger is anymore. Roger tries to watch the autopsy Ducky is performing with a straight face, but his lips keep on twitching and Mike just shakes his head.
"You've got it bad."
Roger laughs.
*
'tonight the super trouper lights are gonna find me, shining like the sunnnnn'
Abba jerks Roger out of his sleep and he blindly gropes in the dark for his phone. He wonders when Erik changed his ringtone, it's normally set on Honey, Honey, and a silly picture of Erik winking at the camera pops up. Roger snorts as he answers the phone.
"hmmmmm?"
"I'm here, safe and sound." Roger closes his eyes and smiles at Erik's voice. Dropping his face down into the pillow, he's surrounded by Erik's scent and it makes the distance between them feel even larger. "It's cold."
"I miss you." His words are slurred, heavy with sleep. "I don't like sleeping without you."
"I miss you more," he can hear the smile on Erik's lips. "I have to go, but I'll call you later this week. We’ll Skype?"
"Mkay. Love you."
"Jag älskar dig."
"Bastard, you know Swedish makes me horny."
He hears Erik laughing as he hangs up the phone. Pressing the end call button, Roger puts his phone back on the bedside table. Clutching the pillow that smells like Erik close to him, he falls back asleep dreaming of long strawberry blond hair and soft, pale skin.
*
His parents' house seems too small for all the family crammed into it. Erik sits with his Grandfather, who peppers him with questions about living in the United States, and his Grandmother on the other side, who asks him when he's going to move back to Sweden and settle down and start producing great-grandbabies for her. Erik is bright red as his uncles rib him on. It's on the tip of his tongue, but he can't bring himself to say 'I'm in love with a wonderful man, his name is Roger, I've never been this happy in my life.' Erik can't say it to his grandparents right now, maybe not ever. He's ashamed that he can't. Erik knows they won't understand.
Erik doesn't need them to understand though; Erik has Roger and that is what's important. Maybe someday he'll tell his parents, but that day is far from now.
"Whatever happened to that nice girl?" His grandmother asks him, patting his hand. "Emma was it?"
"She's doing well," Erik tells his grandmother with a smile.
He assumes she's doing well. Erik makes a mental note to call her and ask her how she's doing now that he's back. Their break up was mutual, he was in Seattle and she was here in Göteborg. Erik always feels a little twist of guilt when he thinks of Emma. It's hard to lead a double life sometimes.
It turns out he doesn't have to call her because she texts him first, requesting a meeting with him in language that's rather clipped for her. He asks Elin if he knows why Emma wants to see him, but she just shrugs. Erik doesn't let it bother him. He'll call Emma in the morning, after the hangover he knows he'll have after drinking this much subsides.
*
"Good morning."
"Mmmm. It's torture hearing you say that but not being able to see you."
"Well you know I'm kinky like that."
"Mike keeps making fun of me. I put his cookies on the top shelf of the cabinet. Taylor had to get them down for him."
Roger laughs and Erik can picture him lying in bed, surrounded by rumpled sheets and shaggy hair sticking up every which way. It's a rare occurrence for Erik to wake up before Roger, but when he does he likes to drag his fingers through Roger's hair. Roger's beard tickles him as he plants kisses around the sleeping man's face until he's pulled from sleep.
"You still there?"
"Huh? Oh yeah, sorry, thinking of you actually. Kissing you awake in the morning." Roger groans and Erik grins deviously. "You're beautiful."
"You're weird."
"You love me."
"I do."
"That makes you weird too."
"I know." Erik grins. "So what are you doing?"
"At a café, waiting for Emma to get here. She wants to talk to me about something."
"Leaving me for a pretty Swedish girl?"
Erik laughs. "No." A familiar blond head enters the café and he regretfully has to cut it short with Roger. "She's here. I'll call you later okay?"
"Have fun."
Erik smiles as he hangs up the phone and stands to greet Emma. The smile is short lived. She's wearing a baggy coat but he can still see the tell tale swell of her stomach. Emma's expression is a mix of worry and apology. Reaching out, he rests a hand against her stomach and she doesn't meet his eyes when she nods yes. She holds his hand as he sinks down into the chair, mind simultaneously blank and racing with a thousand thoughts. As he stares at where their hands are joined, he sees the ink heart on his wrist, faded but still there.
*
Mike has been Roger's roommate and best friend since he arrived in Seattle in the summer of 2009. He knows that's technically not that long, but Roger's the type of guy that everyone feels comfortable with immediately and who goes out of his way to get to know you. Mike feels like Roger's been his best friend since they were children.
Over the past few years he's watched Roger drift in and out of several relationships. Mike doesn't understand how Roger is incapable of staying in them, but he is always the one who gets left behind. He supposes there aren't very many people who are comfortable with their strange work schedules, days spent away, and uncertainty about whether or not their contracts will be extended and if they'll even have jobs next year. There aren't very many people who understand how vital privacy is to Roger as well. Roger is well known to the public as a silly jokester, but he's quiet and shy off the field. There have been boyfriends and dates who don't understand that. Roger's heart is easily broken and Mike doesn't take kindly to those who break it.
Erik has been a revelation. For as much shit as Mike gives them, he is so happy that Roger has finally found someone who understands how incredibly unique he is and loves him unconditionally. They always seem to know what the other is thinking and the few fights they’ve had are always quickly resolved. He twitches; Mike always makes sure to stay away from Roger's bedroom on those nights.
Taylor manages to convince Roger to go to trivia night with them. The two Stanford alums like to make fun of Mike and his 'fancy Harvard education' as they like to call it. He doesn't care- his 'fancy Harvard education' helps them win most nights. Mike's glad Taylor dragged Roger out of the house, now all they had to do was get him to shave because his beard is getting a little out of hand. Mike thinks it's rather telling that Roger falls apart and doesn't know what to do with himself when Erik is gone. It's like the Swede has always been a part of their life. Erik's only been gone for four days but it seems longer.
They have a good time. They don't win, but they finish in second place which is good enough for them. It's nice to have a bar where no one bugs them for autographs because they're regulars. It's been their little bar since Mike was signed by the Sounders. They stumble home laughing and reliving stories from the past seasons.
*
The world is a blur. One minute he's sitting at the café and the next Emma is driving him back to her apartment. He's barely said a word, completely shut down, and she doesn't say anything to him. She's strangely understanding about his lack of emotions other than panic.
"How far?" He finally asks when he regains the ability to talk.
"Five months." She says softly. "I guess the last time… before we broke up."
Erik isn't really sure how he should feel right now. He's going to be a father, he should be overjoyed, and part of him is, but most of him is terrified. Erik doesn't know what to do and he's at a complete loss.
"My parents know." She sits down opposite of him at the table, putting enough space between them so she doesn't pressure him. "They're the only ones though. I didn't want anyone else to know until you did." He doesn't say anything. "Erik, I don't expect anything from you. We're not together anymore. I just thought you should know."
"Emma, I…"
He trails off and stares down at the table top. He doesn't know why he can't speak to her- this is Emma, the woman he was with for years, his best friend. This is the woman who is going to be the mother of his child. Erik isn't going to abandon her to raise a child by herself. It takes two people to make a child, and he shares that responsibility with her now. He knows that much for certain. She'll never leave Sweden though, and he knows he can't help raise a child from Seattle.
"I'll move back," he tells her. "I want to be here for you, for the baby." Even though it's what he wants and what he knows is right, the words still feel forced.
"No," she tells him and he looks up. "You and Roger, it's not fair to him."
Hearing Roger's name on Emma's lips as she acknowledges their relationship is like a stab in the heart. She's still the embodiment of grace and forgiveness that he loved and he knows that even though he'll never love her in an intimate way again, he loves her as much as he can. For a wild minute he thinks of convincing Roger to move to Sweden, to start over here, but he knows Roger never will leave Seattle.
"I know," Erik's throat is dry and every word burns. "But I have to."
To his humiliation, he feels tears threatening to spill and looks down again. He closes his eyes. Emma stands and crosses to his side of the table, sitting next to him and putting her arms around him. They stay like that for a while, Erik silently crying as his heart is ripped to shreds. Doing the right thing is rarely easy.
*
Roger's phone rings half way through Jeopardy, Abba filling up the living room and Mike and Taylor throw pillows at him as he dances to the song. With a grin on his face, he answers the phone as he bounds up the stairs to his room.
"Hey."
"Roger." Roger pauses outside his door; Erik sounds wrecked, like he's been crying. "I have something to tell you."
"Are you okay?" He's never heard Erik sound like this before and it worries him.
Erik is silent for a long time. Roger knows he's still on the other end, he can hear him breathing, but he doesn't press him. He knows sometimes when Erik is frustrated or upset it can take him a while to find the right words to use.
"You know you can tell me anything, right?" Roger's voice is gentle and that's all it takes.
"Emma is pregnant."
There's a long pause. Roger thinks he's misheard Erik or perhaps Erik's translated something wrong in his head. But as the silence is drawn out, he know he hasn't and that everything he gotten used to is about to change. His stomach churns and he feels like he's going to be sick; he closes his eyes.
"I have to move back here to help her, I can't leave her alone." Erik's words are choppy, his accent strong as he stumbles quickly over the words like he always does when he's upset. "Roger, I…" He sighs. "Are you still there?"
"Yeah. I just don't know what to say."
"I'm coming back in a few days and," Erik's voice cracks. "Please be there when I get back Roger. Please." Roger doesn't say anything. "I love you."
"I know."
Roger hangs up the phone without saying 'I love you' for the first time. He sets his phone down, making sure it's parallel with the side of the table it's on. Taking off his clothes, he climbs into bed and grabs the pillow that still smells like Erik. Burying his face in it, he tries to feel something other then numb. The only other feeling he can find is something that makes him sick to his stomach and brings tears to his eyes. He knows this feeling too well; he just thought it would be different this time. It never is though, and he pushes it aside. Roger would rather feel nothing instead of listening to his heart break again.
*
Erik feels light headed. Emma's just left his parents' house and he's locked himself in his room, barricading himself from anymore questions and congratulations that he doesn't want to hear. His facial muscles ache from the forced smile he wore as they announced the news to his family. They can never know the truth- his mother was so happy that she cried and he knows it would break her heart if she ever knew the truth. Erik's already hurt one person; he doesn't want to hurt another.
Grabbing his clothes, he darts to the bathroom before anyone sees him and just sits under the water, face buried in his arms. The water is cold before he moves again. Teeth chattering, he quickly washes his hair before stepping out. Grabbing a comb, he yanks it through the tangles in his hair, not caring when it snags, pulls, and hurts. The bottle of conditioner he brought with him taunts him from the shelf- he stole Roger's and right now he doesn't want to be reminded of Roger. It's a futile move though as he knows he'll never be able to forget Roger and the sound of Roger's voice when he told him, when he destroyed their relationship.
As he dresses for bed, he glances at his wrist and sees the ink heart is just a vague shadow. Panic claws at his stomach and he races from the bathroom. It feels like it takes ages to find a black pen, and when he does he clumsily traces what's left of the heart. When it's fully filled in and visible again, he lets himself breathe. Erik traces it with his thumb and thinks of the man who gave him his heart to break.
*
Mike hasn't seen Roger in a little more than a day. It's not out of the ordinary for a day or so to pass between seeing each other. They have their own rooms and schedules. It's possible that Roger is in there still moping over Erik being gone or that he's even gone over to Erik's house to mope there. He doesn't know anything is wrong until Brad calls him from Arizona. He doesn't pick up the first time. Mike almost doesn't pick up the phone the second time, but he doubts Brad is calling him for a social call two times in a row and curiosity gets the better of him.
"Have you checked your email?" Brad doesn't even say hello; his voice is brisk and his words are to the point.
"No?"
"Check your email. Call or text me if you need anything."
Brad hangs up and Mike stares at his phone. Rolling his eyes, he hopes this isn't one of those stupid chain emails that Brad seems so fond of forwarding or yet another recipe he has to try. Pulling his email up on his cell phone, his phone starts to chirp and vibrate as everyone in the world decides to text message him at the same time.
Mike's not sure what to call the emotions that overtake him as he reads the email the front office and Erik have sent out. The words 'transfer' and 'starting a new family' stick out the most in his mind. Fury. That's what he decides on. He drops his phone and ignores the texts; he knows what they're about. There's something more important right now. Now he knows why Roger hasn't come out of his room. Mike counts backwards from one hundred; he needs to be calm for Roger. Ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven.
Taylor appears at the top of the staircase as Mike trudges up it, one foot in front of the other. Twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four. There's a scowl on Taylor's face and Mike shrugs. He falls in line behind Mike.
Mike doesn't bother knocking on Roger's door. He knows Roger won't respond if he's in there. Roger's staring at the ceiling, 'All Things Considered' plays in the background. He doesn't look at them or acknowledge they're there other then turning his head and burying his face into a pillow. Erik's pillow. Seven, six, five. Taylor's scowl deepens and he turns to leave the room, muttering that he'll order out for pizza and go grab some beer. Three, two, one.
"Talk to me," Mike says, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of Roger's bed.
"Gonna use your fancy Harvard psych degree on me?" There's a trace of humor in Roger's voice; Mike knows he's just deflecting. "We broke up. I'll get over it."
"Aren't you angry?"
"Yes. No. Maybe. All of the above."
Mike sighs and flops down, placing his hands behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling. The problem with funny people, jokers, is that they're always wearing a mask. They become so adept at changing masks based on the situation and mood of the people around them that sometimes it's hard to tell what they're really thinking. Roger is like that; there were days before Erik when Mike wasn't sure if Roger would ever figure out that he could live without the masks. Roger didn't need them around Erik because Erik could always see through them. But that's all gone now. It’s all gone now.
"It's okay to be angry."
"Is it?" Roger turns over and looks at him. There are dark circles under his eyes and he looks grimy. "Who do I have to be angry at? Emma? It's not her fault she's pregnant. Erik? No, he's being responsible and doing the right thing for his child? Me?" Roger huffs. "I couldn't do anything to prevent this. There's no one to blame, life just happens." He closes his eyes. "I just thought it was going to be different this time."
"Roger." Mike rests a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "It was different this time."
Roger is silent for a long time, the heating unit and the door slamming as Taylor leaves for the store are the only sounds, before he whispers, "I thought it was too."
*
Allie ends up convincing him to come to Maine for a few days. He hasn't seen his parents in a few months, and he needs to get out of Seattle. He figures Maine is as far away as he can get. When Mike drops him off at the airport, he gets a tight hug and Mike makes him promise to call if he needs anything. They both know Roger won't call.
His sister picks him up at the airport and they go to their favorite little seafood joint. Amidst greasy lobster rolls and a few Sam Adams, Allie steers the conversation away from anything dealing with soccer and more important, Erik. Allie knows about Roger's preferences, she's always known and supported him. She's the one who listens when he has no one else to turn to. No one else he feels comfortable turning to anyway.
After an hour where she catches him up on local gossip, she drives him to their parents' house. His room is still largely unchanged from his high school days. It's not really the type of room a typical teenager would have, but Roger wasn't a typical teenager. Captain of the title winning basketball and soccer teams as well as class valedictorian, Roger was the best at everything he did. It was the only way to get out of Maine. When Stanford came calling with an academic and soccer scholarship, he jumped ship and never looked back. There are times when Roger feels like he grew up faster than those around him in all areas except for matters of the heart. He's still unsure as to why he gets left behind. Perhaps he didn't mature properly, or maybe he's just not meant to have someone love him for an extended period of time. Whatever the reason, Roger is uncomfortable knowing that he's not the best at it, nor will he ever be likely to master it. If Roger has a fatal flaw, an insecurity, it's that his heart is linked to his confidence and both are easily shattered.
*
Mike doesn't know when Roger's coming back; he bought a one way ticket and said he'd return when he felt like he could. It's been three days so far and Mike doubts that he'll return before the week is over. The house is silent without Roger's laugh to fill it. As Mike sits on the couch reading the comics from the newspaper, he can't bring himself to laugh. He's miserable because Roger is miserable. Roger is his best friend, practically his brother, and when something is wrong with Roger it reverberates throughout the entire house.
"Can you get that?" Taylor yells down the stairs when someone knocks on the front door.
Grumbling, Mike sets the paper aside and goes to answer the door. He's expecting cable salesmen, girl scouts, or Mormons, but he's not expecting to see Erik standing there. Mike doesn't say anything, just stares at Erik. Erik looks like shit- his clothes are rumpled, he has dark circles under red eyes concealed by the glasses he rarely wears, and his hair probably hasn't been combed in a few days. Mike slams the door shut in his face.
"Mike, please let me see him," Erik pleads through the door; Mike hopes the whole neighborhood is outside watching Erik beg. "Please."
"Fuck off." Mike growls.
"No. I'm not leaving until I talk to him."
"He's not here. Go away."
"Then I'll wait for him to come back."
Erik is silent after that and when Mike looks out of the peephole, he sees that Erik is sitting on the front steps. Erik is stubborn and Mike knows he'll be out there all day waiting for Roger to get back. Except Roger is in Maine and won't be coming back. Erik doesn't know that though. Mike snickers to himself; he hopes Erik has fun being their new lawn gnome.
After a few hours Erik is still sitting out there and Mike is still stonewalling him. He disappears for a half an hour at one point and Mike thinks he's finally given up, but then he returns with a bag of Chipotle. Fucking tacos. Seeing it makes Mike hungry and he goes upstairs to shower before he makes himself lunch. By the time he gets back, Erik is passed out on their couch. Taylor is in the kitchen and Mike confronts him with an angry glare. Taylor just shrugs, says something about feeling sorry for him and what's done is done.
"He's hurting just as bad if not worse than Roger," Taylor mutters over his cup of coffee. "He's our friend too."
"You're not angry at him?"
Taylor raises an eyebrow at him. "Furious. But it doesn't change anything and it doesn't help."
Mike hates it when Taylor makes sense. He doesn't care; Taylor can play angel to his devil. Mike is feeling angry, disappointed, and murderous toward Erik and he's not going to disguise it. He'll let other people be rational and the bigger person. Mike doesn't hide what he thinks anyway.
*
"Are you going to lie in here all week? I think Mom and Dad are getting concerned."
Roger rolls his eyes and hits ignore as he receives another text message on his cell phone. Allie sits down at his desk and glares at him. He picks up his laptop and deletes another email. It's getting pathetic, the number of texts, emails, and messages from Erik that he erases without even checking. He doesn't want to talk to Erik right now, he wants to stay in his boyhood room and forget the outside world.
"Ignoring it doesn't fix it." She tells him, nudging his ankle with her foot. "Erik's not going to stop. If anything you've told me about him is true, he's going to annoy the piss out of you until you pick up."
"I don't want to talk to him."
"What good is that going to do?"
"What would I even say to him? It doesn't matter because nothing is going to change."
"Maybe not, but will you look back on it and regret that you didn't get to say goodbye? Don't you want closure?"
Roger snorts. "You're such a girl."
"I'm trying to help you, douche bag!"
Roger chuckles dryly. Maybe his sister is right, maybe he does need some sort of closure. Roger doesn't know if he's strong enough to face Erik though. He doesn't want to think about having to say goodbye to Erik, about letting him go. Part of Roger wants to fight for Erik, but he thinks of Emma raising Erik's child alone and those thoughts fly out the window. Love doesn't always win.
His phone vibrates and without thinking about it, he looks at the message without seeing who it's from.
Please let me know that you're okay. I'm worried about you because I love you. You don't have to talk to me ever again, you can hate me if it makes you feel better, but just let me know that you're okay
Roger thinks the bitterest part of all of this is that they do love each other but it's not enough. He'll never hate Erik, he can't. A part of him knows he'll always love Erik, but with time he'll move on. They'll both move on because that's the card that life has dealt them. Roger has to grasp that life will continue without Erik. That is what scares and upsets him more than anything.
"Go home Roger," Allie tells him gently. "Talk to Erik."
"I don't want to say goodbye to him."
"Then don't say goodbye."
She gets up and leaves the room, telling him dinner will be ready soon. He thinks about her words, her advice. Clicking 'reply' on his phone, his thumbs hover over the keyboard. He doesn't really know what to say, and as he's thinking about it, his phone rings. It's Mike, and he knows Mike wouldn't call him unless it was urgent.
"You have to come home." Mike's voice is hushed; like he's afraid someone will hear him. "Erik's like a zombie who won't leave the couch. Brad keeps dropping tacos off for him. He just sits there all day- he's starting to smell."
For some reason the idea of Erik haunting their living room, hair a tangled rat's nest and glasses askew while he shoves Chipotle down his throat, makes Roger burst out laughing. He's not sure if he's laughing because it's funny or if he's just hit his breaking point, but he keeps on laughing. Mike is silent on the other end of the phone, probably freaking out that Roger has lost it. That just makes Roger laugh harder and as he laughs, he realizes that it's time to stop hiding and go home.
*
Erik doesn't remember the flight back to the United States and to Seattle. He doesn't know how he got to Roger's house or how long Mike refused to let him in. Somewhere in the back of his mind he vaguely remembers Taylor letting him in and since then, Erik has been pretty much comatose on the couch. If he could feel anything, the force of Mike's angry sneer might get to him, but he's overcome with his need to see and speak to Roger that nothing else gets through to him. He spends his time texting Roger, sending him emails, and leaving short messages on his voicemail. Roger never responds. Erik doesn't expect him to. Roger, for all of his easy going personality, is made up of walls; Erik is stuck on the wrong side of them.
On the third day of sleeping on their couch, he awakes to Mike glaring down at him. The glare isn't new, but the fact that Mike will look at him for more than five seconds is. He tells Erik briskly that Brad is coming over to take him out for a while and he should probably shower because he's beginning to smell like a hobo. Erik just stares at him and eventually Mike huffs and drags Erik to his feet and pushes him up the stairs before stomping away. Erik understands why Mike is angry at him; Erik thinks Mike is probably the best friend anyone could ever have.
Erik stares at the doorknob. The door leads to Roger's room, to the room that Erik spent many nights in, a room that he is more than familiar with. It seems like a gross invasion of privacy to enter it now; Erik feels like he's lost the right to set foot in it. The brass is cold on his hand as he turns it. The room is exactly like it was when he left. Roger hasn't changed the sheets, the same blind is twisted at an angle that doesn't match the rest, and it has that unique outdoor smell- freshly turned earth, the lake in the morning, something and everything that is uniquely Roger. He feels like a voyeur.
Crossing the room, he grabs clothing out of the drawer that he keeps there, a drawer that he no longer has any right to, and hurries into the bathroom. It takes him a few minutes and a lot of conditioner to comb the tangles out of his hair. As he brushes his teeth in the shower, he remembers the last time he was in here. The toothbrush stills in his hand. Erik wonders if Roger will have others in here in the future, when he's moved on and Erik is barely a memory of a distant past. Spitting out the minty foam, he watches at it swirls down the drain, like it was never there in the first place.
Turning the water off, he climbs out of the shower and dresses slowly; his limbs feel heavy with disuse. When he turns the loud fan off, he hears raised voices coming from below. Mike and Brad are arguing over something, probably over him and Roger. Erik feels like he destroys everything he touches these days. Placing his dirty clothes in the hamper, he slinks downstairs to where Brad greets him and Mike ignores him. Taylor is standing between them with his arms crossed and Erik knows he's had to play peacemaker again.
Brad drags him to their little café, tucked away off the main roads and quiet for this time of the day. The schools are all on winter break, and it's devoid from its usual eclectic college crowd. They grab their drinks and snag a table in the back corner, far from where anyone can hear them.
"Congrats I guess." Brad breaks the silence between them. "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"
"No," Erik looks at his coffee, shakes his head. "Emma wants it to be a surprise."
"Oh." There's a lull in the conversation and Erik watches as a seagull picks through the garbage can outside. "Are you getting married?"
"No." The seagull finds a french fry and gobbles it down before another bird can steal it; the action draws the attention of a few more seagulls.
"You're a dick, you know that right?"
Erik looks up at Brad. Brad's chewing his lower lip, but his eyes are serious. Erik shouldn't be surprised at anyone's reaction, he isn't, but it hurts more than he thought it would hearing it aloud. They're protective of their own though, and Roger's been one of them for a long time. Roger's not the one leaving them.
"I know."
"Good." Brad shrugs. "I'm going to miss you, you stupid Swedish asshole."
Erik shakes his head, smiles as he flicks an empty sugar packet at Brad. "You're beautiful."
"And don't let anyone tell you otherwise." Brad grins.
*
The plane lands late at night and instead of calling someone to pick him up, he grabs a taxi back to their house. It's after midnight, the lights are out, and the house is silent as he opens the front door as quietly as possible. Placing his shoes in the front closet, he leaves his bag by the front door and peers into the living room. Erik's passed out, mouth slightly open, phone clutched tightly in his hand. Roger's smile is bittersweet; this will probably be the last time he sees this, something that would seem ordinary or even silly to anyone else but to him it is beautiful. His heart feels like it is being unraveled in his chest.
Erik normally has a content little smile on his face as he sleeps, but it's been replaced by a grimace. His glasses are askew and Roger crosses the room and slowly removes them. As he folds them and places them on the coffee table, Erik shifts on the couch and opens his eyes. His blinks a few times, as if unsure if he is still asleep or if Roger is still there, before he sits up. Roger doesn't say anything, just extends his hand for Erik to take and pulls him to his feet. They go upstairs together and collapse into bed. They don't say anything because there isn't anything that can be said that they both don't already know. It's not comfortable, they're a mess of long hair, sharp bones, and aching muscles, but they don't care. Roger can feel Erik's chest rise and fall with every breath and eventually his breathing grows deeper as he falls asleep.
As the ropes of sleep begin to pull him under, he tries to resist. Roger doesn't want to fall asleep because in the morning reality will set in. As he holds Erik against him, he knows that in the morning he will have to let go. Roger knows that he won't be able to pick up all the pieces this time because Erik has pieces of him that Roger can never take back. Exhaustion wins as it always does and Roger tumbles into sleep.
*
Erik wakes up first and lays there. The sun is barely up and he can see blue through the window. He wonders why the skies taunt him with blue instead of the usual gray. Roger's arms have loosened around him during the night and he pulls back just enough to look up at Roger's face. Roger looks peaceful, happy as he sleeps, a happiness that Erik knows won't last. This is how Erik wants to spend his life, waking up every morning next to Roger, but that's not possible anymore.
"Erik?" Roger's woken up, looks at him with eyes that are half sleep and half sad.
"I love you Roger," Erik tells him, resting his head back against Roger's chest. "I know I'm leaving and you probably hate me, but that doesn't mean I don't love you. I'm so sorry."
Roger doesn't say anything for a while, but he tightens his arms around Erik. One of his hands comes up and he wraps a few strands of Erik's hair around his fingers. Erik prefers Roger's silence to avoidance. He feels the burn of Roger's beard against his temple as Roger brushes his lips against him.
"I'm always going to love you."
*
They go down to Pike's Place on Erik's last day. They've treated the past few as if nothing has changed, a last hurrah of sorts, but everything is winding down. It hasn't rained all week; in fact it's been sunny and warm enough to get away with only a sweater. December hasn't been the month either of them was expecting it to be. They grab some fried salmon from one of the vendors in the market and wander down to the piers and the waterfront. There are a few sailboats lazily flitting around the bay and further down the sound they can see a huge freighter being refueled.
They're sitting on a bench, laughing over some stupid prank Brad played on Mike during the season. It's a completely normal moment that isn't normal at all. When their laughter dies away, the sound of cars on Alaskan Way and the water hitting the docks is all they hear. Erik leans against Roger slightly, enough so that they know the intention but anyone passing wouldn't look twice.
"I'm scared." Erik confesses, looking down to where their legs are pressed together. "I'm worried that because I don't want to leave and this isn't what I wanted, that I won't be a good father."
Roger's shakes his head and smiles at him. "You'll be fine."
"I don't know."
"I do." Roger takes Erik's hand in his own and squeezes gently. "I know you. As long as you love and support it, your child will be fine."
"I'm not ready to be a dad," Erik looks at him, eyes serious, worried.
"No one ever is." Roger shrugs. "Except those people that have like, 19 kids or something."
"The Duggars?" Roger raises an eyebrow at Erik, like he's judging him for knowing that. "Hey, I don't watch it. That's all Brad. You know how he is."
Roger laughs so loud that the seagulls trying to steal food from them are startled into flight.
By the time they stand up and start wandering around again, the sun is beginning to set. They've wandered toward the sculpture park at the far end of the piers. There's a small bit of beach with sand for the summer months when the brave attempt to swim in the always frigid water, and they wander toward it. The wind has picked up a bit, and Erik keeps on tucking his hair behind his ears. Roger sits down on a log while Erik searches the shoreline for rocks smooth enough for skipping. There's a ferry returning from Bainbridge Island or perhaps Bremerton in the distance.
The sun is dying over the Olympics, painting the sky yellow, orange, and a pinkish red. The mountains are already heavy with snow on their sharp peaks and with the water in front of it all, Roger could stare for days. The sunset's beauty is fleeting though, never lasting for long.
"Did you see that!" Erik exclaims from the water's edge, turned toward Roger with his arm gesturing towards the ripples. "Five skips!"
This is how Roger wants to remember Erik. The wind blowing his hair everywhere as the dying sun highlights it with a sky painted to match, vibrant smile on his face, the city they met in sprawled around them, and looking at Roger like no one else exists.
*
They don't say goodbye. They fall asleep, wake up, Erik takes a quick shower as Roger stays in bed. His plane leaves early and Mike is waiting downstairs to take him to the airport. Before he leaves Roger's room, he kneels beside Roger and softly kisses his cheek. It wakes Roger up and Roger turns his head so that their lips briefly touch, nothing more than a shadow of a kiss. Taking his hand, Roger presses his lips against Erik's wrist, where the drawn heart has long since faded. A sad smile stays on those lips at he lets go. Erik returns the smile before leaving the room.
On their way to the airport, Erik and Mike are silent other than the occasional 'take care of yourself' and other well wishes. Mike gets out of the car and helps him with his luggage, hugs him tightly, and tells him not to forget about them. Erik knows that Mike forgives him and judging by how upset he looks, he's trying not to cry.
"If the baby is a boy, I fully expect it to be named Mike," Mike tells him, trying to shake off any tears. "Don't listen to Brad, Brad is a stupid name."
Erik laughs and hugs Mike again. "Can you do me a favor?" Mike nods. "There's something I wanted to show Roger, if I post it to your Facebook later, will you show him?"
If Mike thinks it's a weird request, he doesn’t say anything. He just nods and gives Erik one more hug before climbing back into his car. Erik only has one bag with him, the same bag he arrived in Seattle with a year ago. Everything else has been sold, donated, or packed and shipped back to Sweden. Here he is alone on the curb outside of the airport in Seattle- he feels like he's in a time warp, but going backwards instead of forwards.
Checking in and security take an hour and he gets to the gate as they start to board. He gets to his seat, pulls out his iPod and sticks it in the pocket on the seatback in front of him, and grabs the in-flight magazine. Flight attendants roam the aisles, making sure everyone's seatbelts are on and that seatbacks are up. As the engines start, he pulls out his phone and finds what he wants on Youtube. Clicking share, he posts it first to Twitter with 'To Fucito' before the link and then sticks it on Mike's Facebook wall. A few minutes later, his phone vibrates and a picture of Roger asleep, content smile on his face, pops up.
You never let me down
Erik's heart feels lighter knowing that. Turning off his phone, he slips it into his pocket. Pulling out a pen from his bag, he flips to the crossword in the back of the magazine. He knows he won’t even fill half of it out, he's completely hopeless without help, but it gives him a bittersweet reminder of scruffy beards and kisses that tickle. He draws a heart on his wrist.
notes:
- Thank you albion_lass for the being the best beta in the world. Seriously, thank you so much for suffering through this with me.
- Erik tweeted Goodbye My Lover to Mike when he got on his plane. I'm not making that up, it really happened ^^;
- Title comes from Goodbye my Lover by James Blunt and Keep You by Sugarland
Pairing: Erik Friberg/Roger Levesque
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 8,260
Summary: Roger thinks the bitterest part of all of this is that they do love each other but it's not enough. He'll never hate Erik, he can't. A part of him knows he'll always love Erik, but with time he'll move on. They'll both move on because that's the card that life has dealt them. Roger has to grasp that life will continue without Erik. That is what scares and upsets him more than anything.
Author wh_mermaid
Beta: albion_lass
Mixer: luxover, the Mike to my Roger tbh <3
Download Mix Here
November and December have been unusually warm so far this year, barely dipping below 50 degrees. Roger likes that he doesn't have to wear a sweater when he goes for his morning jog. On the weekend no one is ever up before he is, and the only other sound beside the occasional bird or passing car is his breathing. The sun's been out for a few days, a rarity for this time of year in a city whose two seasons are summer and gray. It's clear enough that the snowcapped peaks of the Olympics linger in the distance. The view brings a sort of breathless smile to his face. Roger loves that Seattle can still bring that smile to his face after so many years.
It's a quick two mile run today, he's still worn out from last night, and he picks up the newspaper in his driveway as he stumbles back into the house. Grabbing a protein shake from the fridge, he downs it as he kicks off his shoes and nudges them into the hallway closet. Tossing the empty bottle into the recycling bin, Roger quietly creeps up the stairs so he doesn't wake his roommates. Opening the door to his room, he bites his lip and grins as he sees Erik is still passed out, hair messily spilled in every direction and arms around a pillow in Roger's absence.
Silently crossing the room, Roger grabs a towel and enters his bathroom, turning the water in his shower on and tossing his sweaty clothes into the laundry hamper. Stepping under the warm water, he sighs as it washes away the smell of running and sex. He's in the middle of washing his hair when the door to the bathroom opens and Erik stumbles in, still half asleep. Roger smiles as Erik brushes his teeth and then slides the shower door open, clumsily stepping in next to him. Erik presses himself against Roger, standing on his toes to steal a kiss that tastes like toothpaste and protein shakes.
It's too early for words, but not for uncoordinated hand jobs. Erik has Roger pressed against the cold tiles, his lips attached to Roger's collarbone and neck, as his hand moves slowly to bring them both to orgasm. Roger loves the noise Erik always makes, a mix between a sigh and a pained grunt, before he collapses against him, their stomachs sticky with come that eventually washes away. Roger wraps a hand around the back of Erik's neck, plants a kiss on his temple, and thanks a higher power that he has Erik in his life.
The water always goes lukewarm and eventually cold as they finish their shower in companionable silence. Dressing quickly, they go downstairs where Mike is playing Fifa. He chucks a controller at Erik who collapses on the couch as Roger grabs the crossword from the newspaper. As he sits on the other end of the couch, Roger knows that in the next 45 minutes Taylor will bounce down the stairs and make pancakes for everyone, or maybe even waffles if he's feeling particularly adventurous. Normally they'd watch a movie afterward but not today. Roger has to take Erik to the airport today so he can spend the holidays back in Sweden with his family. It's selfish to want Erik to stay in Seattle and spend Christmas with them, but Roger knows how close Erik is to his family who he hasn't seen since August. Roger wants Erik to be happy more than he wants anything else.
*
"I'll be back for New Years," Erik smiles at him as they roll up to the airport. "It's not that long."
"I know," Roger mumbles, cursing at a Lexus that cuts him off.
Erik's smiles are sweet and have a vaguely dreamy quality to them. He leans forward and brushes a kiss across Roger's cheek, interlaces their fingers, and squeezes his hand. Roger laughs, pushes Erik away before he starts nuzzling him and makes him crash. Pulling over, he puts the car in park before helping Erik pull a bag out of the trunk. Erik looks nice- jeans that fit, a tight sweater, and a coordinating belt and shoes. European, half of the team would say while they laughed at Erik who would never understand the joke. Erik's clueless laughs make him that much more endearing.
"Call me when you get there."
"It will be 3 in the morning over here."
"I don't care. I want to make sure you're safe."
Erik grins and flicks Roger's cheek. He leans in for a hug, murmurs "I love you", and is gone. Getting back into his car, Roger sighs and tells himself that sixteen days isn't that long and Erik will be back before he knows it.
*
The truth is Erik doesn't feel like he's going home. He feels like he's going to Sweden to see his family, a visit. Once upon a time it felt like home, when he was going back to see Emma, but it's not like that anymore. Seattle feels like home now. Roger feels like home now. He looks at his wrist, at the little heart Roger had doodled on it while thinking of an answer for his crossword puzzle. As he brushes a finger across it, he grins and doesn't feel as alone.
Erik's known Roger for almost a year, but he feels like it's been longer than that. They've been together exclusively for five months. The two months before that were filled with guilt and tension on Erik's part; he and Emma had grown apart, but weren't officially broken up at that point. It doesn't matter though, as she accepted his relationship with Roger gracefully, just like Erik knew she would.
In the back of his mind he knows that seven months is not a long time, but there is something about Roger that puts Erik completely to ease. He always knows exactly where they stand and for Roger, Erik doesn't need to pretend to be something he's not. Roger understands him and even though Erik doesn't always understand Roger, or his jokes, he knows that's okay. Sixteen days is going to be an unbearably long time.
*
"You're moping."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Taylor, is Roger moping?"
"Yes."
Roger shifts on the couch and glares at his two roommates. Erik's not even been gone a day and he's already staring at the ceiling and wondering what he did before Erik was in his life. Lie around and stare at the ceiling probably. Or read and do crosswords, but he's already done the crossword for today and read a book. He starts as he feels Mike poke him.
"Are you going to be like this for the next few weeks?"
Roger doesn't respond, just grabs the remote and finds a NCIS marathon on TV to watch. As he sits back and watches Gibbs berate Tony for something, he tries to let his mind wander away from Erik. It doesn't work though and soon he's thinking about last night with a silly little smile on his face and Mike is staring at him like he doesn't know who Roger is anymore. Roger tries to watch the autopsy Ducky is performing with a straight face, but his lips keep on twitching and Mike just shakes his head.
"You've got it bad."
Roger laughs.
*
'tonight the super trouper lights are gonna find me, shining like the sunnnnn'
Abba jerks Roger out of his sleep and he blindly gropes in the dark for his phone. He wonders when Erik changed his ringtone, it's normally set on Honey, Honey, and a silly picture of Erik winking at the camera pops up. Roger snorts as he answers the phone.
"hmmmmm?"
"I'm here, safe and sound." Roger closes his eyes and smiles at Erik's voice. Dropping his face down into the pillow, he's surrounded by Erik's scent and it makes the distance between them feel even larger. "It's cold."
"I miss you." His words are slurred, heavy with sleep. "I don't like sleeping without you."
"I miss you more," he can hear the smile on Erik's lips. "I have to go, but I'll call you later this week. We’ll Skype?"
"Mkay. Love you."
"Jag älskar dig."
"Bastard, you know Swedish makes me horny."
He hears Erik laughing as he hangs up the phone. Pressing the end call button, Roger puts his phone back on the bedside table. Clutching the pillow that smells like Erik close to him, he falls back asleep dreaming of long strawberry blond hair and soft, pale skin.
*
His parents' house seems too small for all the family crammed into it. Erik sits with his Grandfather, who peppers him with questions about living in the United States, and his Grandmother on the other side, who asks him when he's going to move back to Sweden and settle down and start producing great-grandbabies for her. Erik is bright red as his uncles rib him on. It's on the tip of his tongue, but he can't bring himself to say 'I'm in love with a wonderful man, his name is Roger, I've never been this happy in my life.' Erik can't say it to his grandparents right now, maybe not ever. He's ashamed that he can't. Erik knows they won't understand.
Erik doesn't need them to understand though; Erik has Roger and that is what's important. Maybe someday he'll tell his parents, but that day is far from now.
"Whatever happened to that nice girl?" His grandmother asks him, patting his hand. "Emma was it?"
"She's doing well," Erik tells his grandmother with a smile.
He assumes she's doing well. Erik makes a mental note to call her and ask her how she's doing now that he's back. Their break up was mutual, he was in Seattle and she was here in Göteborg. Erik always feels a little twist of guilt when he thinks of Emma. It's hard to lead a double life sometimes.
It turns out he doesn't have to call her because she texts him first, requesting a meeting with him in language that's rather clipped for her. He asks Elin if he knows why Emma wants to see him, but she just shrugs. Erik doesn't let it bother him. He'll call Emma in the morning, after the hangover he knows he'll have after drinking this much subsides.
*
"Good morning."
"Mmmm. It's torture hearing you say that but not being able to see you."
"Well you know I'm kinky like that."
"Mike keeps making fun of me. I put his cookies on the top shelf of the cabinet. Taylor had to get them down for him."
Roger laughs and Erik can picture him lying in bed, surrounded by rumpled sheets and shaggy hair sticking up every which way. It's a rare occurrence for Erik to wake up before Roger, but when he does he likes to drag his fingers through Roger's hair. Roger's beard tickles him as he plants kisses around the sleeping man's face until he's pulled from sleep.
"You still there?"
"Huh? Oh yeah, sorry, thinking of you actually. Kissing you awake in the morning." Roger groans and Erik grins deviously. "You're beautiful."
"You're weird."
"You love me."
"I do."
"That makes you weird too."
"I know." Erik grins. "So what are you doing?"
"At a café, waiting for Emma to get here. She wants to talk to me about something."
"Leaving me for a pretty Swedish girl?"
Erik laughs. "No." A familiar blond head enters the café and he regretfully has to cut it short with Roger. "She's here. I'll call you later okay?"
"Have fun."
Erik smiles as he hangs up the phone and stands to greet Emma. The smile is short lived. She's wearing a baggy coat but he can still see the tell tale swell of her stomach. Emma's expression is a mix of worry and apology. Reaching out, he rests a hand against her stomach and she doesn't meet his eyes when she nods yes. She holds his hand as he sinks down into the chair, mind simultaneously blank and racing with a thousand thoughts. As he stares at where their hands are joined, he sees the ink heart on his wrist, faded but still there.
*
Mike has been Roger's roommate and best friend since he arrived in Seattle in the summer of 2009. He knows that's technically not that long, but Roger's the type of guy that everyone feels comfortable with immediately and who goes out of his way to get to know you. Mike feels like Roger's been his best friend since they were children.
Over the past few years he's watched Roger drift in and out of several relationships. Mike doesn't understand how Roger is incapable of staying in them, but he is always the one who gets left behind. He supposes there aren't very many people who are comfortable with their strange work schedules, days spent away, and uncertainty about whether or not their contracts will be extended and if they'll even have jobs next year. There aren't very many people who understand how vital privacy is to Roger as well. Roger is well known to the public as a silly jokester, but he's quiet and shy off the field. There have been boyfriends and dates who don't understand that. Roger's heart is easily broken and Mike doesn't take kindly to those who break it.
Erik has been a revelation. For as much shit as Mike gives them, he is so happy that Roger has finally found someone who understands how incredibly unique he is and loves him unconditionally. They always seem to know what the other is thinking and the few fights they’ve had are always quickly resolved. He twitches; Mike always makes sure to stay away from Roger's bedroom on those nights.
Taylor manages to convince Roger to go to trivia night with them. The two Stanford alums like to make fun of Mike and his 'fancy Harvard education' as they like to call it. He doesn't care- his 'fancy Harvard education' helps them win most nights. Mike's glad Taylor dragged Roger out of the house, now all they had to do was get him to shave because his beard is getting a little out of hand. Mike thinks it's rather telling that Roger falls apart and doesn't know what to do with himself when Erik is gone. It's like the Swede has always been a part of their life. Erik's only been gone for four days but it seems longer.
They have a good time. They don't win, but they finish in second place which is good enough for them. It's nice to have a bar where no one bugs them for autographs because they're regulars. It's been their little bar since Mike was signed by the Sounders. They stumble home laughing and reliving stories from the past seasons.
*
The world is a blur. One minute he's sitting at the café and the next Emma is driving him back to her apartment. He's barely said a word, completely shut down, and she doesn't say anything to him. She's strangely understanding about his lack of emotions other than panic.
"How far?" He finally asks when he regains the ability to talk.
"Five months." She says softly. "I guess the last time… before we broke up."
Erik isn't really sure how he should feel right now. He's going to be a father, he should be overjoyed, and part of him is, but most of him is terrified. Erik doesn't know what to do and he's at a complete loss.
"My parents know." She sits down opposite of him at the table, putting enough space between them so she doesn't pressure him. "They're the only ones though. I didn't want anyone else to know until you did." He doesn't say anything. "Erik, I don't expect anything from you. We're not together anymore. I just thought you should know."
"Emma, I…"
He trails off and stares down at the table top. He doesn't know why he can't speak to her- this is Emma, the woman he was with for years, his best friend. This is the woman who is going to be the mother of his child. Erik isn't going to abandon her to raise a child by herself. It takes two people to make a child, and he shares that responsibility with her now. He knows that much for certain. She'll never leave Sweden though, and he knows he can't help raise a child from Seattle.
"I'll move back," he tells her. "I want to be here for you, for the baby." Even though it's what he wants and what he knows is right, the words still feel forced.
"No," she tells him and he looks up. "You and Roger, it's not fair to him."
Hearing Roger's name on Emma's lips as she acknowledges their relationship is like a stab in the heart. She's still the embodiment of grace and forgiveness that he loved and he knows that even though he'll never love her in an intimate way again, he loves her as much as he can. For a wild minute he thinks of convincing Roger to move to Sweden, to start over here, but he knows Roger never will leave Seattle.
"I know," Erik's throat is dry and every word burns. "But I have to."
To his humiliation, he feels tears threatening to spill and looks down again. He closes his eyes. Emma stands and crosses to his side of the table, sitting next to him and putting her arms around him. They stay like that for a while, Erik silently crying as his heart is ripped to shreds. Doing the right thing is rarely easy.
*
Roger's phone rings half way through Jeopardy, Abba filling up the living room and Mike and Taylor throw pillows at him as he dances to the song. With a grin on his face, he answers the phone as he bounds up the stairs to his room.
"Hey."
"Roger." Roger pauses outside his door; Erik sounds wrecked, like he's been crying. "I have something to tell you."
"Are you okay?" He's never heard Erik sound like this before and it worries him.
Erik is silent for a long time. Roger knows he's still on the other end, he can hear him breathing, but he doesn't press him. He knows sometimes when Erik is frustrated or upset it can take him a while to find the right words to use.
"You know you can tell me anything, right?" Roger's voice is gentle and that's all it takes.
"Emma is pregnant."
There's a long pause. Roger thinks he's misheard Erik or perhaps Erik's translated something wrong in his head. But as the silence is drawn out, he know he hasn't and that everything he gotten used to is about to change. His stomach churns and he feels like he's going to be sick; he closes his eyes.
"I have to move back here to help her, I can't leave her alone." Erik's words are choppy, his accent strong as he stumbles quickly over the words like he always does when he's upset. "Roger, I…" He sighs. "Are you still there?"
"Yeah. I just don't know what to say."
"I'm coming back in a few days and," Erik's voice cracks. "Please be there when I get back Roger. Please." Roger doesn't say anything. "I love you."
"I know."
Roger hangs up the phone without saying 'I love you' for the first time. He sets his phone down, making sure it's parallel with the side of the table it's on. Taking off his clothes, he climbs into bed and grabs the pillow that still smells like Erik. Burying his face in it, he tries to feel something other then numb. The only other feeling he can find is something that makes him sick to his stomach and brings tears to his eyes. He knows this feeling too well; he just thought it would be different this time. It never is though, and he pushes it aside. Roger would rather feel nothing instead of listening to his heart break again.
*
Erik feels light headed. Emma's just left his parents' house and he's locked himself in his room, barricading himself from anymore questions and congratulations that he doesn't want to hear. His facial muscles ache from the forced smile he wore as they announced the news to his family. They can never know the truth- his mother was so happy that she cried and he knows it would break her heart if she ever knew the truth. Erik's already hurt one person; he doesn't want to hurt another.
Grabbing his clothes, he darts to the bathroom before anyone sees him and just sits under the water, face buried in his arms. The water is cold before he moves again. Teeth chattering, he quickly washes his hair before stepping out. Grabbing a comb, he yanks it through the tangles in his hair, not caring when it snags, pulls, and hurts. The bottle of conditioner he brought with him taunts him from the shelf- he stole Roger's and right now he doesn't want to be reminded of Roger. It's a futile move though as he knows he'll never be able to forget Roger and the sound of Roger's voice when he told him, when he destroyed their relationship.
As he dresses for bed, he glances at his wrist and sees the ink heart is just a vague shadow. Panic claws at his stomach and he races from the bathroom. It feels like it takes ages to find a black pen, and when he does he clumsily traces what's left of the heart. When it's fully filled in and visible again, he lets himself breathe. Erik traces it with his thumb and thinks of the man who gave him his heart to break.
*
Mike hasn't seen Roger in a little more than a day. It's not out of the ordinary for a day or so to pass between seeing each other. They have their own rooms and schedules. It's possible that Roger is in there still moping over Erik being gone or that he's even gone over to Erik's house to mope there. He doesn't know anything is wrong until Brad calls him from Arizona. He doesn't pick up the first time. Mike almost doesn't pick up the phone the second time, but he doubts Brad is calling him for a social call two times in a row and curiosity gets the better of him.
"Have you checked your email?" Brad doesn't even say hello; his voice is brisk and his words are to the point.
"No?"
"Check your email. Call or text me if you need anything."
Brad hangs up and Mike stares at his phone. Rolling his eyes, he hopes this isn't one of those stupid chain emails that Brad seems so fond of forwarding or yet another recipe he has to try. Pulling his email up on his cell phone, his phone starts to chirp and vibrate as everyone in the world decides to text message him at the same time.
Mike's not sure what to call the emotions that overtake him as he reads the email the front office and Erik have sent out. The words 'transfer' and 'starting a new family' stick out the most in his mind. Fury. That's what he decides on. He drops his phone and ignores the texts; he knows what they're about. There's something more important right now. Now he knows why Roger hasn't come out of his room. Mike counts backwards from one hundred; he needs to be calm for Roger. Ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven.
Taylor appears at the top of the staircase as Mike trudges up it, one foot in front of the other. Twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four. There's a scowl on Taylor's face and Mike shrugs. He falls in line behind Mike.
Mike doesn't bother knocking on Roger's door. He knows Roger won't respond if he's in there. Roger's staring at the ceiling, 'All Things Considered' plays in the background. He doesn't look at them or acknowledge they're there other then turning his head and burying his face into a pillow. Erik's pillow. Seven, six, five. Taylor's scowl deepens and he turns to leave the room, muttering that he'll order out for pizza and go grab some beer. Three, two, one.
"Talk to me," Mike says, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of Roger's bed.
"Gonna use your fancy Harvard psych degree on me?" There's a trace of humor in Roger's voice; Mike knows he's just deflecting. "We broke up. I'll get over it."
"Aren't you angry?"
"Yes. No. Maybe. All of the above."
Mike sighs and flops down, placing his hands behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling. The problem with funny people, jokers, is that they're always wearing a mask. They become so adept at changing masks based on the situation and mood of the people around them that sometimes it's hard to tell what they're really thinking. Roger is like that; there were days before Erik when Mike wasn't sure if Roger would ever figure out that he could live without the masks. Roger didn't need them around Erik because Erik could always see through them. But that's all gone now. It’s all gone now.
"It's okay to be angry."
"Is it?" Roger turns over and looks at him. There are dark circles under his eyes and he looks grimy. "Who do I have to be angry at? Emma? It's not her fault she's pregnant. Erik? No, he's being responsible and doing the right thing for his child? Me?" Roger huffs. "I couldn't do anything to prevent this. There's no one to blame, life just happens." He closes his eyes. "I just thought it was going to be different this time."
"Roger." Mike rests a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "It was different this time."
Roger is silent for a long time, the heating unit and the door slamming as Taylor leaves for the store are the only sounds, before he whispers, "I thought it was too."
*
Allie ends up convincing him to come to Maine for a few days. He hasn't seen his parents in a few months, and he needs to get out of Seattle. He figures Maine is as far away as he can get. When Mike drops him off at the airport, he gets a tight hug and Mike makes him promise to call if he needs anything. They both know Roger won't call.
His sister picks him up at the airport and they go to their favorite little seafood joint. Amidst greasy lobster rolls and a few Sam Adams, Allie steers the conversation away from anything dealing with soccer and more important, Erik. Allie knows about Roger's preferences, she's always known and supported him. She's the one who listens when he has no one else to turn to. No one else he feels comfortable turning to anyway.
After an hour where she catches him up on local gossip, she drives him to their parents' house. His room is still largely unchanged from his high school days. It's not really the type of room a typical teenager would have, but Roger wasn't a typical teenager. Captain of the title winning basketball and soccer teams as well as class valedictorian, Roger was the best at everything he did. It was the only way to get out of Maine. When Stanford came calling with an academic and soccer scholarship, he jumped ship and never looked back. There are times when Roger feels like he grew up faster than those around him in all areas except for matters of the heart. He's still unsure as to why he gets left behind. Perhaps he didn't mature properly, or maybe he's just not meant to have someone love him for an extended period of time. Whatever the reason, Roger is uncomfortable knowing that he's not the best at it, nor will he ever be likely to master it. If Roger has a fatal flaw, an insecurity, it's that his heart is linked to his confidence and both are easily shattered.
*
Mike doesn't know when Roger's coming back; he bought a one way ticket and said he'd return when he felt like he could. It's been three days so far and Mike doubts that he'll return before the week is over. The house is silent without Roger's laugh to fill it. As Mike sits on the couch reading the comics from the newspaper, he can't bring himself to laugh. He's miserable because Roger is miserable. Roger is his best friend, practically his brother, and when something is wrong with Roger it reverberates throughout the entire house.
"Can you get that?" Taylor yells down the stairs when someone knocks on the front door.
Grumbling, Mike sets the paper aside and goes to answer the door. He's expecting cable salesmen, girl scouts, or Mormons, but he's not expecting to see Erik standing there. Mike doesn't say anything, just stares at Erik. Erik looks like shit- his clothes are rumpled, he has dark circles under red eyes concealed by the glasses he rarely wears, and his hair probably hasn't been combed in a few days. Mike slams the door shut in his face.
"Mike, please let me see him," Erik pleads through the door; Mike hopes the whole neighborhood is outside watching Erik beg. "Please."
"Fuck off." Mike growls.
"No. I'm not leaving until I talk to him."
"He's not here. Go away."
"Then I'll wait for him to come back."
Erik is silent after that and when Mike looks out of the peephole, he sees that Erik is sitting on the front steps. Erik is stubborn and Mike knows he'll be out there all day waiting for Roger to get back. Except Roger is in Maine and won't be coming back. Erik doesn't know that though. Mike snickers to himself; he hopes Erik has fun being their new lawn gnome.
After a few hours Erik is still sitting out there and Mike is still stonewalling him. He disappears for a half an hour at one point and Mike thinks he's finally given up, but then he returns with a bag of Chipotle. Fucking tacos. Seeing it makes Mike hungry and he goes upstairs to shower before he makes himself lunch. By the time he gets back, Erik is passed out on their couch. Taylor is in the kitchen and Mike confronts him with an angry glare. Taylor just shrugs, says something about feeling sorry for him and what's done is done.
"He's hurting just as bad if not worse than Roger," Taylor mutters over his cup of coffee. "He's our friend too."
"You're not angry at him?"
Taylor raises an eyebrow at him. "Furious. But it doesn't change anything and it doesn't help."
Mike hates it when Taylor makes sense. He doesn't care; Taylor can play angel to his devil. Mike is feeling angry, disappointed, and murderous toward Erik and he's not going to disguise it. He'll let other people be rational and the bigger person. Mike doesn't hide what he thinks anyway.
*
"Are you going to lie in here all week? I think Mom and Dad are getting concerned."
Roger rolls his eyes and hits ignore as he receives another text message on his cell phone. Allie sits down at his desk and glares at him. He picks up his laptop and deletes another email. It's getting pathetic, the number of texts, emails, and messages from Erik that he erases without even checking. He doesn't want to talk to Erik right now, he wants to stay in his boyhood room and forget the outside world.
"Ignoring it doesn't fix it." She tells him, nudging his ankle with her foot. "Erik's not going to stop. If anything you've told me about him is true, he's going to annoy the piss out of you until you pick up."
"I don't want to talk to him."
"What good is that going to do?"
"What would I even say to him? It doesn't matter because nothing is going to change."
"Maybe not, but will you look back on it and regret that you didn't get to say goodbye? Don't you want closure?"
Roger snorts. "You're such a girl."
"I'm trying to help you, douche bag!"
Roger chuckles dryly. Maybe his sister is right, maybe he does need some sort of closure. Roger doesn't know if he's strong enough to face Erik though. He doesn't want to think about having to say goodbye to Erik, about letting him go. Part of Roger wants to fight for Erik, but he thinks of Emma raising Erik's child alone and those thoughts fly out the window. Love doesn't always win.
His phone vibrates and without thinking about it, he looks at the message without seeing who it's from.
Please let me know that you're okay. I'm worried about you because I love you. You don't have to talk to me ever again, you can hate me if it makes you feel better, but just let me know that you're okay
Roger thinks the bitterest part of all of this is that they do love each other but it's not enough. He'll never hate Erik, he can't. A part of him knows he'll always love Erik, but with time he'll move on. They'll both move on because that's the card that life has dealt them. Roger has to grasp that life will continue without Erik. That is what scares and upsets him more than anything.
"Go home Roger," Allie tells him gently. "Talk to Erik."
"I don't want to say goodbye to him."
"Then don't say goodbye."
She gets up and leaves the room, telling him dinner will be ready soon. He thinks about her words, her advice. Clicking 'reply' on his phone, his thumbs hover over the keyboard. He doesn't really know what to say, and as he's thinking about it, his phone rings. It's Mike, and he knows Mike wouldn't call him unless it was urgent.
"You have to come home." Mike's voice is hushed; like he's afraid someone will hear him. "Erik's like a zombie who won't leave the couch. Brad keeps dropping tacos off for him. He just sits there all day- he's starting to smell."
For some reason the idea of Erik haunting their living room, hair a tangled rat's nest and glasses askew while he shoves Chipotle down his throat, makes Roger burst out laughing. He's not sure if he's laughing because it's funny or if he's just hit his breaking point, but he keeps on laughing. Mike is silent on the other end of the phone, probably freaking out that Roger has lost it. That just makes Roger laugh harder and as he laughs, he realizes that it's time to stop hiding and go home.
*
Erik doesn't remember the flight back to the United States and to Seattle. He doesn't know how he got to Roger's house or how long Mike refused to let him in. Somewhere in the back of his mind he vaguely remembers Taylor letting him in and since then, Erik has been pretty much comatose on the couch. If he could feel anything, the force of Mike's angry sneer might get to him, but he's overcome with his need to see and speak to Roger that nothing else gets through to him. He spends his time texting Roger, sending him emails, and leaving short messages on his voicemail. Roger never responds. Erik doesn't expect him to. Roger, for all of his easy going personality, is made up of walls; Erik is stuck on the wrong side of them.
On the third day of sleeping on their couch, he awakes to Mike glaring down at him. The glare isn't new, but the fact that Mike will look at him for more than five seconds is. He tells Erik briskly that Brad is coming over to take him out for a while and he should probably shower because he's beginning to smell like a hobo. Erik just stares at him and eventually Mike huffs and drags Erik to his feet and pushes him up the stairs before stomping away. Erik understands why Mike is angry at him; Erik thinks Mike is probably the best friend anyone could ever have.
Erik stares at the doorknob. The door leads to Roger's room, to the room that Erik spent many nights in, a room that he is more than familiar with. It seems like a gross invasion of privacy to enter it now; Erik feels like he's lost the right to set foot in it. The brass is cold on his hand as he turns it. The room is exactly like it was when he left. Roger hasn't changed the sheets, the same blind is twisted at an angle that doesn't match the rest, and it has that unique outdoor smell- freshly turned earth, the lake in the morning, something and everything that is uniquely Roger. He feels like a voyeur.
Crossing the room, he grabs clothing out of the drawer that he keeps there, a drawer that he no longer has any right to, and hurries into the bathroom. It takes him a few minutes and a lot of conditioner to comb the tangles out of his hair. As he brushes his teeth in the shower, he remembers the last time he was in here. The toothbrush stills in his hand. Erik wonders if Roger will have others in here in the future, when he's moved on and Erik is barely a memory of a distant past. Spitting out the minty foam, he watches at it swirls down the drain, like it was never there in the first place.
Turning the water off, he climbs out of the shower and dresses slowly; his limbs feel heavy with disuse. When he turns the loud fan off, he hears raised voices coming from below. Mike and Brad are arguing over something, probably over him and Roger. Erik feels like he destroys everything he touches these days. Placing his dirty clothes in the hamper, he slinks downstairs to where Brad greets him and Mike ignores him. Taylor is standing between them with his arms crossed and Erik knows he's had to play peacemaker again.
Brad drags him to their little café, tucked away off the main roads and quiet for this time of the day. The schools are all on winter break, and it's devoid from its usual eclectic college crowd. They grab their drinks and snag a table in the back corner, far from where anyone can hear them.
"Congrats I guess." Brad breaks the silence between them. "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"
"No," Erik looks at his coffee, shakes his head. "Emma wants it to be a surprise."
"Oh." There's a lull in the conversation and Erik watches as a seagull picks through the garbage can outside. "Are you getting married?"
"No." The seagull finds a french fry and gobbles it down before another bird can steal it; the action draws the attention of a few more seagulls.
"You're a dick, you know that right?"
Erik looks up at Brad. Brad's chewing his lower lip, but his eyes are serious. Erik shouldn't be surprised at anyone's reaction, he isn't, but it hurts more than he thought it would hearing it aloud. They're protective of their own though, and Roger's been one of them for a long time. Roger's not the one leaving them.
"I know."
"Good." Brad shrugs. "I'm going to miss you, you stupid Swedish asshole."
Erik shakes his head, smiles as he flicks an empty sugar packet at Brad. "You're beautiful."
"And don't let anyone tell you otherwise." Brad grins.
*
The plane lands late at night and instead of calling someone to pick him up, he grabs a taxi back to their house. It's after midnight, the lights are out, and the house is silent as he opens the front door as quietly as possible. Placing his shoes in the front closet, he leaves his bag by the front door and peers into the living room. Erik's passed out, mouth slightly open, phone clutched tightly in his hand. Roger's smile is bittersweet; this will probably be the last time he sees this, something that would seem ordinary or even silly to anyone else but to him it is beautiful. His heart feels like it is being unraveled in his chest.
Erik normally has a content little smile on his face as he sleeps, but it's been replaced by a grimace. His glasses are askew and Roger crosses the room and slowly removes them. As he folds them and places them on the coffee table, Erik shifts on the couch and opens his eyes. His blinks a few times, as if unsure if he is still asleep or if Roger is still there, before he sits up. Roger doesn't say anything, just extends his hand for Erik to take and pulls him to his feet. They go upstairs together and collapse into bed. They don't say anything because there isn't anything that can be said that they both don't already know. It's not comfortable, they're a mess of long hair, sharp bones, and aching muscles, but they don't care. Roger can feel Erik's chest rise and fall with every breath and eventually his breathing grows deeper as he falls asleep.
As the ropes of sleep begin to pull him under, he tries to resist. Roger doesn't want to fall asleep because in the morning reality will set in. As he holds Erik against him, he knows that in the morning he will have to let go. Roger knows that he won't be able to pick up all the pieces this time because Erik has pieces of him that Roger can never take back. Exhaustion wins as it always does and Roger tumbles into sleep.
*
Erik wakes up first and lays there. The sun is barely up and he can see blue through the window. He wonders why the skies taunt him with blue instead of the usual gray. Roger's arms have loosened around him during the night and he pulls back just enough to look up at Roger's face. Roger looks peaceful, happy as he sleeps, a happiness that Erik knows won't last. This is how Erik wants to spend his life, waking up every morning next to Roger, but that's not possible anymore.
"Erik?" Roger's woken up, looks at him with eyes that are half sleep and half sad.
"I love you Roger," Erik tells him, resting his head back against Roger's chest. "I know I'm leaving and you probably hate me, but that doesn't mean I don't love you. I'm so sorry."
Roger doesn't say anything for a while, but he tightens his arms around Erik. One of his hands comes up and he wraps a few strands of Erik's hair around his fingers. Erik prefers Roger's silence to avoidance. He feels the burn of Roger's beard against his temple as Roger brushes his lips against him.
"I'm always going to love you."
*
They go down to Pike's Place on Erik's last day. They've treated the past few as if nothing has changed, a last hurrah of sorts, but everything is winding down. It hasn't rained all week; in fact it's been sunny and warm enough to get away with only a sweater. December hasn't been the month either of them was expecting it to be. They grab some fried salmon from one of the vendors in the market and wander down to the piers and the waterfront. There are a few sailboats lazily flitting around the bay and further down the sound they can see a huge freighter being refueled.
They're sitting on a bench, laughing over some stupid prank Brad played on Mike during the season. It's a completely normal moment that isn't normal at all. When their laughter dies away, the sound of cars on Alaskan Way and the water hitting the docks is all they hear. Erik leans against Roger slightly, enough so that they know the intention but anyone passing wouldn't look twice.
"I'm scared." Erik confesses, looking down to where their legs are pressed together. "I'm worried that because I don't want to leave and this isn't what I wanted, that I won't be a good father."
Roger's shakes his head and smiles at him. "You'll be fine."
"I don't know."
"I do." Roger takes Erik's hand in his own and squeezes gently. "I know you. As long as you love and support it, your child will be fine."
"I'm not ready to be a dad," Erik looks at him, eyes serious, worried.
"No one ever is." Roger shrugs. "Except those people that have like, 19 kids or something."
"The Duggars?" Roger raises an eyebrow at Erik, like he's judging him for knowing that. "Hey, I don't watch it. That's all Brad. You know how he is."
Roger laughs so loud that the seagulls trying to steal food from them are startled into flight.
By the time they stand up and start wandering around again, the sun is beginning to set. They've wandered toward the sculpture park at the far end of the piers. There's a small bit of beach with sand for the summer months when the brave attempt to swim in the always frigid water, and they wander toward it. The wind has picked up a bit, and Erik keeps on tucking his hair behind his ears. Roger sits down on a log while Erik searches the shoreline for rocks smooth enough for skipping. There's a ferry returning from Bainbridge Island or perhaps Bremerton in the distance.
The sun is dying over the Olympics, painting the sky yellow, orange, and a pinkish red. The mountains are already heavy with snow on their sharp peaks and with the water in front of it all, Roger could stare for days. The sunset's beauty is fleeting though, never lasting for long.
"Did you see that!" Erik exclaims from the water's edge, turned toward Roger with his arm gesturing towards the ripples. "Five skips!"
This is how Roger wants to remember Erik. The wind blowing his hair everywhere as the dying sun highlights it with a sky painted to match, vibrant smile on his face, the city they met in sprawled around them, and looking at Roger like no one else exists.
*
They don't say goodbye. They fall asleep, wake up, Erik takes a quick shower as Roger stays in bed. His plane leaves early and Mike is waiting downstairs to take him to the airport. Before he leaves Roger's room, he kneels beside Roger and softly kisses his cheek. It wakes Roger up and Roger turns his head so that their lips briefly touch, nothing more than a shadow of a kiss. Taking his hand, Roger presses his lips against Erik's wrist, where the drawn heart has long since faded. A sad smile stays on those lips at he lets go. Erik returns the smile before leaving the room.
On their way to the airport, Erik and Mike are silent other than the occasional 'take care of yourself' and other well wishes. Mike gets out of the car and helps him with his luggage, hugs him tightly, and tells him not to forget about them. Erik knows that Mike forgives him and judging by how upset he looks, he's trying not to cry.
"If the baby is a boy, I fully expect it to be named Mike," Mike tells him, trying to shake off any tears. "Don't listen to Brad, Brad is a stupid name."
Erik laughs and hugs Mike again. "Can you do me a favor?" Mike nods. "There's something I wanted to show Roger, if I post it to your Facebook later, will you show him?"
If Mike thinks it's a weird request, he doesn’t say anything. He just nods and gives Erik one more hug before climbing back into his car. Erik only has one bag with him, the same bag he arrived in Seattle with a year ago. Everything else has been sold, donated, or packed and shipped back to Sweden. Here he is alone on the curb outside of the airport in Seattle- he feels like he's in a time warp, but going backwards instead of forwards.
Checking in and security take an hour and he gets to the gate as they start to board. He gets to his seat, pulls out his iPod and sticks it in the pocket on the seatback in front of him, and grabs the in-flight magazine. Flight attendants roam the aisles, making sure everyone's seatbelts are on and that seatbacks are up. As the engines start, he pulls out his phone and finds what he wants on Youtube. Clicking share, he posts it first to Twitter with 'To Fucito' before the link and then sticks it on Mike's Facebook wall. A few minutes later, his phone vibrates and a picture of Roger asleep, content smile on his face, pops up.
You never let me down
Erik's heart feels lighter knowing that. Turning off his phone, he slips it into his pocket. Pulling out a pen from his bag, he flips to the crossword in the back of the magazine. He knows he won’t even fill half of it out, he's completely hopeless without help, but it gives him a bittersweet reminder of scruffy beards and kisses that tickle. He draws a heart on his wrist.
notes:
- Thank you albion_lass for the being the best beta in the world. Seriously, thank you so much for suffering through this with me.
- Erik tweeted Goodbye My Lover to Mike when he got on his plane. I'm not making that up, it really happened ^^;
- Title comes from Goodbye my Lover by James Blunt and Keep You by Sugarland