Don't Carry It All (Jesse Eisenberg/Andrew Garfield) 3/3
Title: Don't Carry It All
Fandom: TSN RPF (Jesse Eisenberg/Andrew Garfield)
previous
Justin hovered anxiously in the doorway all the next morning, and Jesse ignored him. He wasn't interested in talking. He just wanted to work. Justin, though, wasn't great at being ignored. He kept walking by, giving Jesse anxious looks until Jesse started to feel anxious about it, too.
"What?" Jesse finally demanded, closing his laptop.
Justin, caught lurking just outside Jesse's office, froze. "Uh," he said. "Just. Everyone's kind of wondering if you're okay."
"Who's everyone?" Jesse asked. If the entire firm had somehow learned about Jesse's romantic misadventures he was going to jump out the window.
"Me. Emma. Walsh was wondering, too." Justin looked guilty. "I didn't tell him about the uh… You know. The 'situation.'"
"The air quotes aren't really necessary," said Jesse, rolling his eyes.
Justin crept a little bit into Jesse's office. "Have you heard from him?"
Jesse took a couple of deep breaths, because he was determined not to lose his calm. "Nope," he said. "Last I heard he was taking off for Africa."
"That's pretty drastic," Justin said. "Did you try explaining what happened?"
"He really didn't want to hear from me," said Jesse. "And I can't blame him."
Justin looked unhappy and fidgeted a little. "Dude, I'm really sorry about this," he said. "I signed you up, I feel responsible."
"This was my fault," said Jesse flatly. "It's okay. Do you mind if I go back to work?"
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm not going to get any better any time soon," said Jesse.
Justin made a face. "That's… That sucks, dude."
"I'm aware." Jesse opened his laptop again, hoping he'd given Justin enough of a conversation to make him stop hovering in the doorway. Justin fidgeted a little bit and then shrugged, walking away.
--
Emma was more relentless. "You can't just sit around and mope."
"Yes," Jesse said, "I can."
"No, we're going out," Emma ordered, pulling him away from his desk. "We're going to go get drunk and you're going to be sad and heartbroken and then we'll figure out how to find you someone way better than Andrew. That was like training wheels, okay. Now you know what not to do."
Jesse sighed loudly. "I'm fine," he said. "It's been a week, I haven't slit my wrists."
"Right," Emma agreed, "but you also haven't smiled."
"What is there to smile about?" Jesse asked.
Emma made a sad face. "This is what I'm saying. Come on."
There was a bar down the street from the office, somewhere dark and cheap that the other lawyers and analysts and partners didn't like to come. That was why Jesse let Emma bully him into going there. There was no chance of running into anyone. He let her buy him a shot and a beer but he nursed it because he tended to get miserably drunk ridiculously quickly.
"You're weirdly calm," said Emma. "I don't understand."
"I'm upset," said Jesse with a shrug. "There's just… Nothing I can do about it. So I'm working and trying not to think about him. I mean, it. I mean, anything."
They had a cozy booth in the back of the bar where Jesse could hardly even see Emma's face in the watery florescent light, but he could tell she was looking sympathetic, and it made him uncomfortable. "There are other fish in the sea," she said.
"I don't even like fish," Jesse said.
Emma groaned. "Boys, Jesse. There are other boys in the world."
Jesse ran his thumb through the condensation on the outside of his beer glass. "I don't want other boys," he said quietly.
"We could call him," Emma offered.
Jesse shook his head. "He's in Africa. His email account is gone and his profile is deleted and I have a feeling if I tried his phone number I'd get a dial tone. He's been pretty thorough in making sure I won't be able to get in contact with him."
"Then you have to figure out how to move on," said Emma. "I know a great gay bar on Christopher St., we can find you a drunk one-night stand to clear your head."
Jesse looked disbelievingly at her. "Do I seem like a one night stand person to you?"
"Well, we have to do something!" Emma protested.
Jesse just shook his head. "I think I've done pretty much everything I could possibly do. At this point it's just… You know. Suck it up, give it some time, move on with my life. I'm spending the weekend at home with my mom. She's going to make tea and I'm going to sit on the couch until I feel better."
"You're going to bring your work home, aren't you?" Emma asked shrewdly. "You've been working like a crazy person all week."
"It's the only thing that makes me feel better," Jesse said. "It's… Okay, my therapist says that I'm trying to improve the portfolio for Clean Water Everywhere and make them profitable to assuage a little bit of my overwhelming guilt. Or maybe to impress Andrew. She also says I'm not allowed to adopt a hundred cats."
"Are you trying to impress Andrew?" Emma asked.
"He's in Africa. I'd… I'd like him to know I'm trying to do something," said Jesse. "But I think it's pretty clear that he's done with me. And I don't think bringing cash to his organization is much of an apology."
Emma gave him a hug. Jesse tried to be the person who was saying all this calm, philosophical stuff about moving on with his life and really mean it.
"I miss him," Jesse said quietly.
"In vino veritas," Emma sighed.
"In cervisia veritas," Jesse corrected her, and downed the rest of his beer.
--
"You're like superman," said Walsh, looking over the print-outs. "Seriously, Jesse, you're amazing."
Jesse shrugged.
"This month alone you've brought in seven percent gains for these businesses. That's unheard of. Congratulations."
Jesse shrugged again. It had been a long, boring summer and he'd spent most of every day at work, avoiding the heat and avoiding being home where he might accidentally think about Andrew. It wasn't easy when Justin and Emma kept trying to bring him up, but Jesse had perfected a blank stare that eventually made them go away again, and as it got closer to August they got less persistent.
"There's good news and then there's better news," said Walsh.
"Can I skip all the news and just go back to work?" Jesse asked, not very hopefully.
"The good news is that Clean Water Everywhere is incredibly impressed with our firm and your work. The better news is that they want you to fly out to London and speak to them about investment strategies for the future." Walsh grinned. "Cheer up, Eisenberg! You're getting a free trip to London!"
"I'm cheerful," said Jesse. "I uh… Do I have to go?"
"Yes," said Walsh firmly. "It's going to be great. You need a vacation anyway. You've been miserable since your great aunt died. I don't think you've taken a day off in all the years you've been working here. I can't make you take days, I guess, but I can send you to London."
"Alone?" Jesse asked hopefully.
Walsh shook his head. "I've been pushing for Justin to go with you. He's worked with the accounts and let's be honest, he'll make sure you have fun while you're there. You excited yet?"
"Ecstatic," said Jesse. "I'll have to get someone to watch my cats."
"Yes," said Walsh, "you will. It's gonna be great."
It was going to be far away and miserable and weird and Justin was probably the most annoying person in the world to share a hotel room with, Jesse imagined. Plus he wasn't feeling sure about public speaking in general; it wasn't his favorite thing ever. It wasn't in his top one hundred favorite things.
"Not to pry," said Walsh, "but I was talking to Harvey over at CWE and he said that… Remember that guy, Andrew, the one you met this spring and you two had some kind of… argument?" He raised his eyebrows to let Jesse know that Walsh knew something more was going on but he wasn't going to say anything. Jesse stared straight ahead and tried not to have any expression at all. "I asked and I guess he's in Malawi. In case you were worried."
"I wasn't," said Jesse, but he relaxed fractionally knowing that there was no chance of running into Andrew.
"Emma seemed to think it was important," Walsh said. He made a face. "I don't want to intrude, but it did look… Awkward."
Jesse tried not to look too mortified by the entire conversation. "I kind of knew him," he said. "And it was… Not great. So it was a little uncomfortable seeing him there."
"Ahhh," said Walsh, nodding. "An ex. I get it. Well, he won't be in London, if that's what you were worrying about."
"I can find other things to worry about," Jesse reassured him. "Like security in the airport, and flight delays, and the flight itself, and giving a speech to a bunch of strangers."
"That's why I'm sending Justin with you," said Walsh. "If nothing else he can give you a drink before your flight, and before the speech. I think it might help."
"I really shouldn't mix alcohol with my anti-anxiety pills," Jesse said.
"If I had to pick I'd go with 'worry less and drink more,' but that's just me," said Walsh. "Go figure out what you're going to say in this speech, Eisenberg."
Jesse considered for a second. "Boy, what a beautiful city you have here. Aren't you glad the US was around to save it from the Nazis?"
"If they boo you off stage I'm firing you," said Walsh, and Jesse laughed a little.
--
"Hey," said Justin. "You asleep?"
Jesse was reading a book and listening to his iPod - he'd kept the Decemberists on his playlist even though it made him think about Andrew and ache a little bit inside - and hoping his anxiety medicine would kick in before the plane took off. "No," said Jesse. "I think it's harder to read after I fall asleep."
"I get it," said Justin. "Funny. Hey, did you pack snacks? I'm hungry."
"Don't the flight attendants bring snacks?"
"Not in like, five years, man. You gotta get out more. Hey, you nervous?"
Sometimes Jesse wished he could smack Justin just by looking at him. "No, I love hurtling over the ocean in a metal tube."
"I mean about your speech. You have a lot of stuff to say?" Justin rummaged through his bag and found a bag of chips, so why he'd asked Jesse for snacks was anyone's guess. Probably he wanted to eat his way through Jesse's snacks before he ate his own.
"Something about profits, something about working together, something about numbers," said Jesse. "The slides are all prepared."
"You should also mention that you're in love with the dude who's the international relations guy for the company," said Justin, mouth full.
"What?" Jesse said. "No! I'm not going to say that. I mean, I'm not."
"Busted," Justin sing-songed. "I knew you were just pretending to be over him."
"I'll start my speech off with that," Jesse said, "and you can follow me by talking about how you stuck your tongue down his throat. Good plan or best plan?"
"Jealous," said Justin automatically and then winced. "I'm just kidding, J, I really am sorry about that."
"It wasn't your fault," said Jesse tiredly. "Can I read my book now, please?"
"Don't you want to watch the free movie?" asked Justin, poking at the TV on the back of the seat ahead of him.
"I don't really watch TV or movies."
Justin turned to him seriously. "Hang on, you were semi-online dating a hipster and you didn't even have television or movies to bond over hating?"
Jesse shrugged one shoulder. "We talked about other stuff."
Justin just shook his head. "Oh man. He must have really had it bad for you. Let's hop off this plane and go jump on one to Malawi."
"I'm putting my headphones back on," said Jesse.
"When you finally do decide you want to go to Malawi I'll be an awesome wing man," said Justin. "Just let me know."
"You have to get shots to go to Africa," Jesse said. It sounded true at least. "And visas, probably."
"I can handle the border guards," said Justin confidently. "You handle the romance. Wait, maybe I better handle the romance, too."
"Go to sleep, Justin," Jesse said, and turned his music up.
--
On a scale of one to ten Jesse was really only at about a six as far as nerves went, but Justin was also driving him absolutely up the wall and they were sharing a hotel room, which wasn't helping any. Justin took Jesse downstairs to show him the stage and all the round tables in the room that would be full of investors and potential investors and people who worked for CWE. Jesse abruptly skyrocketed up to at least a nine.
"You'll be fine," said Justin. "You always think you're way more awkward than you really are."
"That's completely true, except for how entirely backwards you are," said Jesse. "I'm a million times more awkward than anyone could possibly imagine."
Justin made a face and shrugged. "I'd offer to pretend to be you and give the speech for you," he said. "But I think we've all learned that's a really bad idea."
"You're hilarious."
"Don't worry, dude," said Justin, doing a little dance with just his shoulders. "If you get all nervous and fumble the speech I'll jump up on stage and fix everything. That's my job. I got your back, bro."
"You're giving me a stress headache," Jesse said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Alex, the head of Clean Water Everywhere, swept into the room. "Boys!" he said. "My favorite New Yorkers. You're not worried about the speeches tonight, are you? Everyone's terribly excited to hear you speak. We're thinking about opening up a New York office, you know, and maybe one in Los Angeles."
"I'm not nervous," said Justin, "but Jesse basically lives there. I wouldn't worry."
Alex smiled at them. He was nice, and Jesse was glad; Andrew deserved a nice boss, wherever he was. "Come and have a drink with me; we'll see if we can't work those nerves of yours out," Alex said.
"Not sure that's a great idea-" Jesse began.
"It's an awesome idea," said Justin, lighting up. "This hotel has a bar?"
"This hotel has an amazing bar," said Alex. Jesse hoped that maybe the two of them would bond over their mutual love of drinking and forget about him, but Alex clapped him on the shoulder and said, "You look like a vodka and tonic man to me."
"Oh," said Jesse. "Do I? I always thought I looked more Jewish."
Alex barked a great big laugh. "Wonderful," he said. "I know the barman. He's a great friend of mine, and he makes the drinks nice and strong. Come along." He started down the hall, confident that Jesse and Justin would follow him, which they did, mostly because Justin grabbed Jesse by the arm.
"Really?" Jesse sighed quietly. "Can't I be the designated driver?"
"Our room is in this hotel, so no. You can't be the designated pussy." Jesse made a big show of sighing and rolling his eyes, but not where Alex could see him. He suspected a drink really would make him feel better about giving a speech to a bunch of strangers, particularly a bunch of strangers who might hate him, depending on what Andrew had said before he took off for Africa.
The bar was so swank that Jesse almost didn't walk in, but Justin gave him a shove, and then Alex handed him a drink. It was hard to get comfortable on the shiny leather and chrome tables, or maybe it was jet lag and the lingering anxiety pills he'd taken twelve hours ago, but Jesse felt even more awkward than usual.
"Drink up, man," said Justin, clinking glasses with Alex. "Cheers! That's what you say over here, right?" Alex, just like a million clients before him, looked oddly charmed by Justin's total ridiculousness. Jesse was never going to understand it.
It was a bad idea, Jesse thought again, but Justin and Alex were watching him expectantly, and as long as he stopped at one it couldn't be the worst disaster ever, could it? "Cheers, then," Jesse sighed, and took a sip.
--
Jesse held on to Justin with one hand, because the room was swaying around in circles. "I know England's an island," he said. "Is that why it's rocking up and down?"
Justin gave him a funny look. "You okay?" he asked. They were sitting right up near the front of the banquet room, and the lights were shining straight into Jesse's eyes. The crowd around them applauded politely for whomever was speaking. Jesse meant to listen, he really did, but he couldn't get his brain to stay focused on one topic long enough to figure out what anyone was saying.
"I'm great," said Jesse. "Wait. What?"
Justin pushed a glass of water over to him. "You're going up on stage to speak in like, a hot minute," said Justin quietly, "so you better drink a shitload of water in the next thirty seconds. You sound drunk as shit."
"I'm not drunk," Jesse insisted, but he couldn't stop blinking, and Justin was going in and out of focus. "I stopped after two drinks."
"You stopped after five drinks," said Justin. "And if Emma asks, I said that was a bad idea."
"You bought them for me," said Jesse. He thought he was maybe going to throw up, but at least it was from alcohol poisoning and not nerves.
"Right, but if Emma asks I definitely didn't," Justin said. "Oh shit, you're being introduced."
Jesse was wonderfully unworried about it, because he couldn't quite figure out what Alex was saying up on stage. Something about money and investments, which was kind of what Jesse did, although not exactly. He thought about maybe going up and correcting him. "I'm good," said Jesse. "I'm fine. It'll be fine."
"Do you have your presentation?" Justin asked, looking worried, but then Jesse heard his name and decided it was probably time to go up on stage.
He got up the steps with a minimum of swaying and without falling over even once. Alex shook his hand and it sounded like a lot of people were clapping, but Jesse couldn't see them because the lights were in his eyes.
"We went out for a drink before this, I'm feeling a little… Whee," said Jesse. Everyone laughed. Jesse felt like he was watching a movie of himself talking to a room full of strangers, which was so liberating that he decided to just wing the speech. "I just wanted to say thanks for inviting me out here to speak to you. I'm sure my cats miss me, but my friend Emma's going to feed them, so it'll be okay." He squinted into the lights, trying to remember what he'd been planning to say. It was all fuzzy and vague. "I'm glad I've been able to bring in big returns for you guys. You seem really nice. You all seem really…" He trailed off. "You know who was really nice? Andrew. I mean, of course you know him, you worked with him. He's probably the nicest person I ever met. Nice, and funny, and sweet. I think I’m gonna throw up, but don't worry; it's not because I feel so bad about him anymore, now it's because I drank too much." The room had gotten really quiet, and Jesse could hear Justin hissing something at him, but it seemed really far away and unimportant.
Jesse flapped his hands around a little bit. "I miss him, but I probably shouldn't, because I lied to him and he hates me, but if he weren't in Africa I'd tell him I'm really, really sorry. I don't usually lie to people. I don't usually… I mean, but hey, I made you guys seven percent profits this quarter. Can you tell Andrew? I don't think he'd answer the phone if I called, but he should know. I… I wanted him to… I'm just really sorry. I was so in love with him and I never said." The stage was spinning in lazy circles around him
Justin was definitely not part of this speech, but for some reason he was on stage anyway, grabbing Jesse by the arm. "Okay, that's way more than enough," Justin said. He leaned in to the mic and joked, "That's what we get for enjoying English hospitality, am I right?" There was cautious laughter, and Jesse frowned; this was definitely supposed to have been his speech, not Justin's.
"You're pretending to be me again," Jesse objected.
"I thought New Yorkers could hold their liquor, but you guys have one heck of a guy in Alex," Justin went on, still smiling. Everyone laughed again, louder. "Listen, thanks so much for flying us out here tonight. We have some slides about the investments and the profit margin and some really great ideas for what we think you guys should do as next steps, and I'm going to come back and explain it to you in a minute. But first my friend here is feeling his jet lag - and let's not lie, those free drinks - and I'm gonna walk him upstairs." There was some clapping and some laughter and then Justin was pushing Jesse off stage.
"I didn't get to finish," Jesse complained.
"Dude, this is a mercy killing," said Justin. "I'm never letting anyone buy you a drink again."
"But you bought them," Jesse objected. "Anyway, I think it's all the medicine I took for the flight." The room was spinning a little bit again. "It made me feel all… Round and round."
"Lord," said Justin. "Okay, you're gonna drink some water and go lie down and we'll figure out what to tell Walsh in the morning." He pushed Jesse into the elevator and propped him up against the wall. The elevator was all glass and metal and it felt cool against Jesse's forehead when he started sinking into the wall.
"I think I'm drunk," Jesse said.
"No shit, Sherlock," Justin agreed. The doors binged and opened again. "If you throw up in our room I'm gonna make you pay for a separate room for me tonight."
"I'm starting to feel a little better." Justin opened the hotel room door and pushed him in and sat him down on the bed. The room had stopped spinning and settled into place, and Jesse blinked and found Justin's face stayed in focus even when he walked around the room.
"Well, you couldn't have gotten any drunker," Justin said. "Water. Drink."
Jesse drank obediently and his head started feeling a little clearer. "Hang on," he said slowly. "What did I just give a speech about?"
Justin refilled the glass and handed it back to him. "Mostly about your crush on Andrew. I think I can salvage it but I have to get back downstairs. You're gonna lie down while I go and save both our asses. Thank god you already made slides. You okay? Okay, I'll be back. Seriously, don't throw up on my stuff."
"I feel a lot better," Jesse said, but he was still happy to let Justin wrestle his tie and jacket off and push him back down on the hotel bed. He was having trouble remembering exactly what he'd said on stage but he was sure it wasn't good. Hopefully everyone would just think he was a drunk, jet-lagged idiot and no one would wonder too hard about why he'd talked about … Oh god, what had he said about Andrew? Jesse groaned and rolled over, hiding his face against the pillows. He sincerely hoped he'd never remember the entire thing clearly.
He dozed off, or maybe the alcohol and pills finally caught up with him again, because a knock on the hotel room door startled him awake. Jesse's head was throbbing but at least he felt like he was present in the room instead of watching himself give the most embarrassing speech of all time. In fact, he didn't feel drunk at all anymore, just overwhelmingly embarrassed and tired. His mouth tasted like something had died in it or he might have thought the whole thing was a dream.
There was more loud knocking on the door. Jesse rolled off of the bed, pleased that he had his sense of balance back. His t-shirt was pretty rumpled and he'd drooled on the blankets a little bit, but he was mostly human. This was probably Alex, coming upstairs to tell him he was fired. He hoped he hadn't gotten Justin in trouble too, at least.
Jesse fumbled with the weird hotel door knob and pulled it open.
Andrew was standing in the hall. He looked a little sunburned and as exhausted as Jesse felt, and there was something horribly fragile about the way he was standing, arms crossed over his chest, one sneaker rubbing anxiously at the back of his other ankle.
Jesse's mouth fell open. "Am I still drunk?" he asked, and then clapped a hand over his mouth because that wasn't the first thing he wanted to say to Andrew. The first thing he wanted to say to him was… Well. Everything.
"That was the worst speech I've ever heard," said Andrew tightly, looking mostly at the floor. He pressed his lips together and looked up at Jesse for a second, then faltered and went back to his sneakers. "Did you mean it?"
"I…" Jesse started. He wondered if he should mention he barely remembered most of what he'd said. He knew he'd apologized, though. "Yes. I'm a pretty terrible liar."
"That hasn't been my experience, actually," Andrew said quietly.
"Oh," said Jesse. "Ouch. True. Except you'd never have believed me if you'd seen me even for a second. Justin never believed me, no matter how many times I told him you were just some person on the internet, and it didn't matter…" He trailed off. Andrew probably didn't want to hear that.
"Was I not?" Andrew asked, looking up and biting his lip.
Jesse tried really hard to swallow, and couldn't, so he tried really hard to say, "No," but the word got stuck in his throat. He shook his head instead.
"I really, really liked you," Andrew said quietly.
"I only lied because of how much I liked you," Jesse said. Andrew laughed disbelievingly. "No, I mean… Your pictures were so cool, and you were so together, and I look so ridiculous in every photograph, and I just… I didn't want you to be disappointed and stop talking to me, I… I panicked, and I'm so sorry, I should have told you, I shouldn't have let Justin go out with you, I shouldn't have lied on the phone." There were so many sorrys to say that Jesse couldn't stop them from tripping all over each other. "I am a screw up and a jerk. I'm so sorry. I think I can find more ways to say it. I apologize. I regret it. I-"
"Stop," said Andrew, laughing a little. "That's plenty, you don't have to flagellate yourself. I mean, more than you already did downstairs. I appreciated that."
"I'll do it again," Jesse offered desperately, because it seemed like there was a chance, however slight, that just maybe Andrew was going to forgive him. "I'll tell everybody, I'll go on television or something, I-"
"No," said Andrew quietly. "Just… Just tell me again."
He looked hopeful. Jesse hadn't seen Andrew looking hopeful before, it was… It was terrifying, because it was something that could go away again at any second, and he knew it. "I'm sorry," Jesse said, trying to put months of apologies into one little sentence.
"Okay," said Andrew. And then, before Jesse could react at all, Andrew leaned forward and kissed him.
Andrew was taller than he was, it was weird for just a second, but Andrew fisted one hand in Jesse's rumpled t-shirt and pulled him closer, and his mouth was warm and a little bit desperate against Jesse's. Jesse grabbed Andrew's shoulders with both hands because he didn't know what else to do, but there was a chance that Andrew might go away again, and Jesse was pretty sure he couldn't go on living if that happened. Andrew kissed him harder, and all the crumpled, broken things inside Jesse's chest started to unfurl themselves again, giddy and feathered and whole.
"Wait," said Jesse, pushing Andrew back just a fraction. Andrew looked puzzled. "I… My breath is gross right now, I was drinking with your boss. I can brush my teeth and we can start this again, maybe?"
Andrew looked at him for just a second, puzzled and delighted and something else Jesse wasn't sure about, and then he started to laugh. He laughed with his entire body, shoulders shaking, face lighting up until he hid it against Jesse's shoulder, giggling helplessly.
"I knew you'd be better than Justin was," Andrew managed. He hadn't let go of Jesse's t-shirt, and Jesse wasn't ever going to ask him to. "You're fantastic. How are you real?"
"Why aren't you in Malawi?" Jesse asked, hopelessly confused. "I mean, don't go away, please."
Andrew laughed again. "I just got back. Someone called Emma at your company phoned Alex and told him I was urgently needed for this dinner."
Jesse was going to call her and yell at her and then buy her all the flowers in New York. "I didn't mean to make you flee the continent," Jesse said. "You can have Europe, I'll stay in New York."
"No," said Andrew fiercely, tightening his fingers in Jesse's shirt. "I think that's a terrible idea. Malawi was… It's lovely, the people are so nice and I did so much and learned tons of things. But I was pretty miserably lonely, too."
"I'm sorry--" Jesse started again.
Andrew kissed him until he stopped trying to apologize. "Okay," said Andrew, mouth still against his. "It's okay."
Jesse shook his head and Andrew kissed him again, fiercely, biting at Jesse's lip until he gave up and kissed back. Jesse thought that if any time Andrew wanted him to stop doing something he kissed him… Well. That would be alright.
"Please don't go away again," Jesse said, a little plaintively.
"I think I'll tell Alex I want to come back to London. He won't be too surprised. I mean, you just told everyone I work with that you're in love with me," Andrew said. He grinned, looking pleased and a little shy. "You should tell me."
"Hopelessly," said Jesse, and Andrew smiled. "Desperately. Stupidly. Oh god, so very, very stupidly in love with you."
Andrew looked at him fondly, like Jesse was birthday cake or a box full of puppies or something he was sure he didn't deserve to be compared to. "Good," said Andrew. "Because I felt so stupid for being in love with you when I found out you'd lied."
"I'm sorry," Jesse said. He had a feeling he was going to be saying that forever.
Andrew shook his head. "Just promise you won't make a fool out of me again." He slipped one of his hands around Jesse's waist, on the small of his back, rubbing his thumb over the spot where a too-tight belt had left red marks on Jesse's skin.
"I definitely promise never to lie to you about another dating profile," Jesse agreed.
Andrew laughed and dug his fingers into the small of Jesse's back. "That won't be a problem," he said. "You have to take that profile down anyway."
"Do I?" Jesse asked, feeling stupid and overwhelmed and so happy he almost couldn't breathe.
"You're taken," said Andrew, and kissed him again.
Later
Jesse had been living in his apartment for so long that when he woke up he could tell whether the closet doors were open or shut without even looking. He could just feel where the walls were, whether he'd left things out on the floor, how many cats were perched on the bed. So before he opened his eyes he'd catalogued a few things.
First, the sun was just starting to slope in through the window; not quite dawn in early fall was too early to be awake. Second, there was only one cat on the bed, probably Raskolnikov. Otherwise he was alone.
Jesse had just a second of panic, and then he remembered the note that Andrew had put up on the fridge sometime during his last weekend in New York - a weekend that had turned into a week despite his good intentions to get back to work.
First rule: if you wake up alone I HAVEN'T LEFT. You'll know if I've left because you'll have taken a cab with me to the airport. Do you remember a cab? No. So I'm still here. Look around! Maybe I'm hiding. ;)
Jesse flailed a little with one hand to make sure he really was alone and then groaned, rubbing his eyes open. Andrew had pushed the blankets back and the sheets there were cool under Jesse's fingers.
He rolled out of bed and put his glasses on, rubbing the bridge of his nose until the gyroscope in his head stopped spinning and told him which way was up. Raskolnikov meowed indignantly at being jostled. Jesse petted him perfunctorily and looked around for Mrs. Pennyfarthing and Number Three, but they were probably wherever Andrew was, the traitors.
When he felt like he could walk around without stumbling into any walls or tripping over his own feet Jesse shuffled into his slippers and down the hall to the living room. Andrew was sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop open, wearing a plaid shirt and nothing else except black boxer-briefs. Mrs. Pennyfarthing was snuggled in his lap and Number Three was sitting on the kitchen table, rubbing up against his computer. The kitchen was on the sunny side of the apartment, which meant the sun was giving Andrew's slightly ridiculous bed-head a halo effect.
Andrew glanced over at him and rolled his eyes, then looked back at the laptop. "That's sorted, then. I'll talk to you later." He reached forward and clicked something and then closed the computer.
"Business meeting?" Jesse asked.
"Coffee's in the pot," said Andrew. "Yes, of course it was a business meeting. It's work hours in England."
Andrew had left a mug out for him, which was sweet. Jesse poured himself some coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. "Do you usually wear pants at meetings? I'm just asking, I don't know how they do things over there."
"Not if I can help it," said Andrew, and waggled his eyebrows a little. Jesse managed not to crack up, which meant Andrew began laughing instead. "It's so early here! I was going to come back to bed. But I made coffee in case you woke up and panicked. You didn't, did you?"
"Of course not," Jesse lied.
"Eventually I'll convince you," Andrew said, smiling fondly.
Jesse would have been perfectly okay with their week-long vacation together turning into … well, some kind of magical forever-vacation, if such a thing had been possible. But he tried not to say that out loud in case Andrew wasn't as hopelessly infatuated as he was. Jesse shrugged. "You've taken over half my closets and my drawers and your stuff is everywhere. If there's more of you we'll have to get a bigger place."
He was just joking, but Andrew stopped laughing and started fidgeting in the chair instead. Jesse leaned over and kissed him, morning-coffee breath be damned, one hand on Andrew's shoulders. He savored the familiarity of Andrew's mouth, the way he could feel Andrew's breath speed up just a little bit, the lazy press of their tongues together.
"What?" Jesse asked, pulling back.
"Nothing," said Andrew, fidgeting enough that Mrs. Pennyfarthing meowed and jumped to the table. " I suppose that it's just that I was meant to be here for the week, and that was a week and a half ago, and I don't have a ticket home yet. But I do have to go. I've absolutely positively got to be in Bangladesh by next Wednesday. And I just don't want to overstay my welcome and take over all your space and-"
Jesse dug his thumb into the knot Andrew always had just above his shoulder blade, and Andrew stopped talking with a little sigh, eyes fluttering shut. "Rule number two," said Jesse.
"Right," Andrew agreed. "It's meant to go both ways."
A day or two after the first rule had gone up on the fridge Andrew had annotated it with a second: You aren't the only crazy one in this relationship. In his darker moments Jesse clung to that post-it note desperately.
"The cats like you better than me," said Jesse. "So you know. I take that as a good sign." Andrew huffed a little laugh. "Seriously, you're always welcome here. I'd rather have you here than anywhere else. You should quit your job and just stay with me. You dress like an itinerant hobo anyway." Whoops. Had that slipped out?
Andrew gave Jesse a little shove, rolling his eyes. "Says the man who only owns two pairs of jeans, one of which he stole from Justin. Why won't you let me take you shopping?"
"Why would you bother?" Andrew glared until Jesse sighed and apologized. "Right, sorry. It's because I don't see the point so I spend the whole time being a big whiny baby and making you sorry you ever met me. Apparently."
"Yes," said Andrew definitely. "That's what it is, I knew it was something."
"Well, you do make a point of telling me that every time you drag me out to stores. You bring that pain on yourself."
"Shut up," said Andrew cheerfully. "I just end up buying myself something, it all works out. Shopping in New York is amazing. That's the other reason I never go home." He'd moved over so he was somehow half on his chair, half on top of Jesse, who didn't mind too much when their legs got tangled together.
"You've been here three times," said Jesse. "I guess it's probably my turn to go to London, is what you're trying to tell me."
"Well, it is," said Andrew, lighting up, "although it hadn't occurred to me to demand visitation rights. You stayed in London after the conference -"
"Justin stole my ticket home as revenge for us locking him out of the hotel room."
"The only nice thing he's ever done." Andrew waved that off. "And then I came out for a weekend -"
"Eight days."
"And now I've come out for a week-"
"Sixteen days and counting."
"Stop interjecting facts, you're interrupting," said Andrew imperiously. Jesse held up his hands in surrender and went back to drinking his coffee while Andrew rambled. It was one of Jesse's new hobbies. "So yes, it is your turn. But my point was, Emma told me you never take the days you've got for holiday, so you've got lots and lots of time, and I think you ought to come with me to Bangladesh."
Jesse choked and started coughing.
"And then come with me to England, because I promised mum she'd get to meet you. She's a bit up and down on you, I'm afraid. First I told her you were wonderful, and then there was that part we don't talk about where I didn't like you quite as much and she's convinced you're the reason I went to Africa and got malaria, even though I didn't get malaria. Only I got a bit sick after I got back and mum thinks it was a very mild case. So you should meet her and be your wonderful, charming self, and then she'll understand why I'm so infatuated."
"What do you think I'm going to do in Bangladesh?" Jesse asked. Andrew was giving him the sad eyes, which meant he was probably going to crack and end up on the wrong side of the world getting malaria himself, or sunstroke, or being bitten by a poisonous snake. They had those in Bangladesh, didn't they?
"I think you'll help me dig wells whilst looking terribly manly and sweaty, and you'll sweet-talk all the local authorities into letting us start some new water filtration projects," said Andrew.
"How do you say this stuff with a straight face?" Jesse asked.
Andrew laughed. "I'm serious! We'll only be there a week, then we'd go to London and you can meet my mum and my friends. Carey and Rob need to get to know you. And I can show you around the city! We didn't see much of it last time. Mostly just the inside of my flat."
"Mostly just the inside of your bedroom."
"Yes," said Andrew, blushing just a little. "I'm aware. I was there."
"Speaking of which, the inside of my bedroom is right over there," said Jesse, hoping to change the subject.
"Come with me," Andrew pleaded. "Otherwise I'll be gone a month and I won't see you at all. Please? You can say it's for work, you're supervising your investments. Please come with me? Please?"
"Augh," said Jesse. He had to look away, staring out the window so he wouldn't say Yes, of course, anything you want, any time you want. "Fine! Just stop it, with the eyes. I have enough trouble saying no to you."
"Do you?" asked Andrew, delighted.
Jesse groaned. "You can't seriously be asking me that."
"So you'll come?" Andrew leaned forward eagerly, biting his lip.
"God. Yes. Obviously." Andrew pumped his fist happily and Jesse just shook his head, because there was nothing on earth he had quite as much trouble with as Andrew when he was really enthusiastic.
Andrew leaned forward and grabbed Jesse's face with both hands, kissing him enthusiastically and all but crawling into his lap. "Fantastic," he said. "Wonderful. You won't be sorry. Bangladesh is beautiful."
Jesse knew he wouldn't be sorry, because whatever stupid thing he ended up wearing or doing or saying Andrew would be there. He also knew it was going to be a disaster, and he'd probably end up sick or injured or accidentally stranded on a desert island somehow. He'd deal with it for Andrew.
"We'll have to get Emma to watch the cats," Jesse said.
"I love Emma. Emma is wonderful, she's a fantastic cat-sitter. I'll go with you to work and ask her and she'll say yes because she thinks you should come to Bangladesh with me," Andrew said cheerfully. Jesse gave him a little look. "It's possible I already ran this by your office to see if they'd let you go," Andrew added, looking the tiniest bit guilty and also immensely proud of himself.
"Please tell me you weren't talking to Justin," said Jesse.
Andrew frowned a little. "No," he said shortly. He had a lingering grudge against Justin which he couldn't entirely hide, and Jesse thought it was adorable. No one had ever preferred him to Justin before. Not like this.
"Bangladesh," said Jesse again, because he couldn't believe that he'd just agreed to that. He was feeling a little giddy and a lot apprehensive, but mostly like the world's biggest dope, and not sorry about it.
"One more thing," said Andrew, hurriedly, like he was afraid Jesse would take back his agreement. "I was just skyping in to work."
"I know," said Jesse. Number Three butted his head against his shoulder, asking for more food. It was probably time to admit that he wasn't giving that cat back to the shelter and give it a real name.
Andrew flailed around a little and nearly spilled Jesse's coffee all over both of them. "No, stop, I'm all flustered now, I didn't think you'd say yes. I mean, I did think you would, but I had assumed I'd need to bribe you. Anyway. Alex wants to set up a New York office and he asked if I wanted to run it. It wouldn't be full time, but I'd be in New York about three quarters of the time, and I haven't said yes because a weekend isn't the same as nine months, but I thought I'd mention it, just in case-"
"Oh my god," said Jesse. He tried to stand up and almost dumped Andrew on the floor. He put his coffee down, because his half-naked boyfriend probably didn't want to be covered in scalding hot coffee. "Seriously?"
"Is it alright?" Andrew asked. "I know how you get about your space and your stuff and your apartment and change. The last thing I want is to trigger another psychotic break where I get back to find Justin in my bed or something."
Jesse dug his finger into Andrew's side until Andrew yelped and laughed and wiggled away, dragging Jesse to his feet. "It's great," said Jesse. "You already have half my closets. The cats like you. Please move to New York. Oh god, I will go to Bangladesh with you ten times if you move to New York with me."
"I can get a flat," said Andrew, pulling Jesse down the hall toward the bedroom. "Sorry, an apartment."
"Don't get either one, stay here," Jesse argued, letting himself be pulled. "You know I like to be inside my apartment whenever possible. So really, you should be here as much as possible."
"Here, or…" Andrew pushed open the door to the bedroom. "Here? Out, Raskolnikov. Get out."
"Well, here and in here," Jesse allowed. Andrew handed him the disgruntled cat and Jesse put him down in the hallway and shut the door. "I'm fine with either one. I'm fine with anything as long as you're in New York."
"Part time!" Andrew reminded him. "I suppose we could try it and I could always get my own flat if it's too much for you."
"You're never too much for me," said Jesse. "Let's make that rule three."
Andrew beamed. "That's my favorite rule so far." He was kneeling on the bed, all ridiculously skinny hairy legs and his absurd plaid shirt and Jesse was so horribly in love that he could feel it bursting out of his chest. "You're never too much for me, either."
"That shirt, though," said Jesse. "That's kind of too much for me."
"I was planning to take it off," said Andrew, grinning wickedly and pulling Jesse onto the bed. And then he did.
Fandom: TSN RPF (Jesse Eisenberg/Andrew Garfield)
previous
Justin hovered anxiously in the doorway all the next morning, and Jesse ignored him. He wasn't interested in talking. He just wanted to work. Justin, though, wasn't great at being ignored. He kept walking by, giving Jesse anxious looks until Jesse started to feel anxious about it, too.
"What?" Jesse finally demanded, closing his laptop.
Justin, caught lurking just outside Jesse's office, froze. "Uh," he said. "Just. Everyone's kind of wondering if you're okay."
"Who's everyone?" Jesse asked. If the entire firm had somehow learned about Jesse's romantic misadventures he was going to jump out the window.
"Me. Emma. Walsh was wondering, too." Justin looked guilty. "I didn't tell him about the uh… You know. The 'situation.'"
"The air quotes aren't really necessary," said Jesse, rolling his eyes.
Justin crept a little bit into Jesse's office. "Have you heard from him?"
Jesse took a couple of deep breaths, because he was determined not to lose his calm. "Nope," he said. "Last I heard he was taking off for Africa."
"That's pretty drastic," Justin said. "Did you try explaining what happened?"
"He really didn't want to hear from me," said Jesse. "And I can't blame him."
Justin looked unhappy and fidgeted a little. "Dude, I'm really sorry about this," he said. "I signed you up, I feel responsible."
"This was my fault," said Jesse flatly. "It's okay. Do you mind if I go back to work?"
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm not going to get any better any time soon," said Jesse.
Justin made a face. "That's… That sucks, dude."
"I'm aware." Jesse opened his laptop again, hoping he'd given Justin enough of a conversation to make him stop hovering in the doorway. Justin fidgeted a little bit and then shrugged, walking away.
--
Emma was more relentless. "You can't just sit around and mope."
"Yes," Jesse said, "I can."
"No, we're going out," Emma ordered, pulling him away from his desk. "We're going to go get drunk and you're going to be sad and heartbroken and then we'll figure out how to find you someone way better than Andrew. That was like training wheels, okay. Now you know what not to do."
Jesse sighed loudly. "I'm fine," he said. "It's been a week, I haven't slit my wrists."
"Right," Emma agreed, "but you also haven't smiled."
"What is there to smile about?" Jesse asked.
Emma made a sad face. "This is what I'm saying. Come on."
There was a bar down the street from the office, somewhere dark and cheap that the other lawyers and analysts and partners didn't like to come. That was why Jesse let Emma bully him into going there. There was no chance of running into anyone. He let her buy him a shot and a beer but he nursed it because he tended to get miserably drunk ridiculously quickly.
"You're weirdly calm," said Emma. "I don't understand."
"I'm upset," said Jesse with a shrug. "There's just… Nothing I can do about it. So I'm working and trying not to think about him. I mean, it. I mean, anything."
They had a cozy booth in the back of the bar where Jesse could hardly even see Emma's face in the watery florescent light, but he could tell she was looking sympathetic, and it made him uncomfortable. "There are other fish in the sea," she said.
"I don't even like fish," Jesse said.
Emma groaned. "Boys, Jesse. There are other boys in the world."
Jesse ran his thumb through the condensation on the outside of his beer glass. "I don't want other boys," he said quietly.
"We could call him," Emma offered.
Jesse shook his head. "He's in Africa. His email account is gone and his profile is deleted and I have a feeling if I tried his phone number I'd get a dial tone. He's been pretty thorough in making sure I won't be able to get in contact with him."
"Then you have to figure out how to move on," said Emma. "I know a great gay bar on Christopher St., we can find you a drunk one-night stand to clear your head."
Jesse looked disbelievingly at her. "Do I seem like a one night stand person to you?"
"Well, we have to do something!" Emma protested.
Jesse just shook his head. "I think I've done pretty much everything I could possibly do. At this point it's just… You know. Suck it up, give it some time, move on with my life. I'm spending the weekend at home with my mom. She's going to make tea and I'm going to sit on the couch until I feel better."
"You're going to bring your work home, aren't you?" Emma asked shrewdly. "You've been working like a crazy person all week."
"It's the only thing that makes me feel better," Jesse said. "It's… Okay, my therapist says that I'm trying to improve the portfolio for Clean Water Everywhere and make them profitable to assuage a little bit of my overwhelming guilt. Or maybe to impress Andrew. She also says I'm not allowed to adopt a hundred cats."
"Are you trying to impress Andrew?" Emma asked.
"He's in Africa. I'd… I'd like him to know I'm trying to do something," said Jesse. "But I think it's pretty clear that he's done with me. And I don't think bringing cash to his organization is much of an apology."
Emma gave him a hug. Jesse tried to be the person who was saying all this calm, philosophical stuff about moving on with his life and really mean it.
"I miss him," Jesse said quietly.
"In vino veritas," Emma sighed.
"In cervisia veritas," Jesse corrected her, and downed the rest of his beer.
--
"You're like superman," said Walsh, looking over the print-outs. "Seriously, Jesse, you're amazing."
Jesse shrugged.
"This month alone you've brought in seven percent gains for these businesses. That's unheard of. Congratulations."
Jesse shrugged again. It had been a long, boring summer and he'd spent most of every day at work, avoiding the heat and avoiding being home where he might accidentally think about Andrew. It wasn't easy when Justin and Emma kept trying to bring him up, but Jesse had perfected a blank stare that eventually made them go away again, and as it got closer to August they got less persistent.
"There's good news and then there's better news," said Walsh.
"Can I skip all the news and just go back to work?" Jesse asked, not very hopefully.
"The good news is that Clean Water Everywhere is incredibly impressed with our firm and your work. The better news is that they want you to fly out to London and speak to them about investment strategies for the future." Walsh grinned. "Cheer up, Eisenberg! You're getting a free trip to London!"
"I'm cheerful," said Jesse. "I uh… Do I have to go?"
"Yes," said Walsh firmly. "It's going to be great. You need a vacation anyway. You've been miserable since your great aunt died. I don't think you've taken a day off in all the years you've been working here. I can't make you take days, I guess, but I can send you to London."
"Alone?" Jesse asked hopefully.
Walsh shook his head. "I've been pushing for Justin to go with you. He's worked with the accounts and let's be honest, he'll make sure you have fun while you're there. You excited yet?"
"Ecstatic," said Jesse. "I'll have to get someone to watch my cats."
"Yes," said Walsh, "you will. It's gonna be great."
It was going to be far away and miserable and weird and Justin was probably the most annoying person in the world to share a hotel room with, Jesse imagined. Plus he wasn't feeling sure about public speaking in general; it wasn't his favorite thing ever. It wasn't in his top one hundred favorite things.
"Not to pry," said Walsh, "but I was talking to Harvey over at CWE and he said that… Remember that guy, Andrew, the one you met this spring and you two had some kind of… argument?" He raised his eyebrows to let Jesse know that Walsh knew something more was going on but he wasn't going to say anything. Jesse stared straight ahead and tried not to have any expression at all. "I asked and I guess he's in Malawi. In case you were worried."
"I wasn't," said Jesse, but he relaxed fractionally knowing that there was no chance of running into Andrew.
"Emma seemed to think it was important," Walsh said. He made a face. "I don't want to intrude, but it did look… Awkward."
Jesse tried not to look too mortified by the entire conversation. "I kind of knew him," he said. "And it was… Not great. So it was a little uncomfortable seeing him there."
"Ahhh," said Walsh, nodding. "An ex. I get it. Well, he won't be in London, if that's what you were worrying about."
"I can find other things to worry about," Jesse reassured him. "Like security in the airport, and flight delays, and the flight itself, and giving a speech to a bunch of strangers."
"That's why I'm sending Justin with you," said Walsh. "If nothing else he can give you a drink before your flight, and before the speech. I think it might help."
"I really shouldn't mix alcohol with my anti-anxiety pills," Jesse said.
"If I had to pick I'd go with 'worry less and drink more,' but that's just me," said Walsh. "Go figure out what you're going to say in this speech, Eisenberg."
Jesse considered for a second. "Boy, what a beautiful city you have here. Aren't you glad the US was around to save it from the Nazis?"
"If they boo you off stage I'm firing you," said Walsh, and Jesse laughed a little.
--
"Hey," said Justin. "You asleep?"
Jesse was reading a book and listening to his iPod - he'd kept the Decemberists on his playlist even though it made him think about Andrew and ache a little bit inside - and hoping his anxiety medicine would kick in before the plane took off. "No," said Jesse. "I think it's harder to read after I fall asleep."
"I get it," said Justin. "Funny. Hey, did you pack snacks? I'm hungry."
"Don't the flight attendants bring snacks?"
"Not in like, five years, man. You gotta get out more. Hey, you nervous?"
Sometimes Jesse wished he could smack Justin just by looking at him. "No, I love hurtling over the ocean in a metal tube."
"I mean about your speech. You have a lot of stuff to say?" Justin rummaged through his bag and found a bag of chips, so why he'd asked Jesse for snacks was anyone's guess. Probably he wanted to eat his way through Jesse's snacks before he ate his own.
"Something about profits, something about working together, something about numbers," said Jesse. "The slides are all prepared."
"You should also mention that you're in love with the dude who's the international relations guy for the company," said Justin, mouth full.
"What?" Jesse said. "No! I'm not going to say that. I mean, I'm not."
"Busted," Justin sing-songed. "I knew you were just pretending to be over him."
"I'll start my speech off with that," Jesse said, "and you can follow me by talking about how you stuck your tongue down his throat. Good plan or best plan?"
"Jealous," said Justin automatically and then winced. "I'm just kidding, J, I really am sorry about that."
"It wasn't your fault," said Jesse tiredly. "Can I read my book now, please?"
"Don't you want to watch the free movie?" asked Justin, poking at the TV on the back of the seat ahead of him.
"I don't really watch TV or movies."
Justin turned to him seriously. "Hang on, you were semi-online dating a hipster and you didn't even have television or movies to bond over hating?"
Jesse shrugged one shoulder. "We talked about other stuff."
Justin just shook his head. "Oh man. He must have really had it bad for you. Let's hop off this plane and go jump on one to Malawi."
"I'm putting my headphones back on," said Jesse.
"When you finally do decide you want to go to Malawi I'll be an awesome wing man," said Justin. "Just let me know."
"You have to get shots to go to Africa," Jesse said. It sounded true at least. "And visas, probably."
"I can handle the border guards," said Justin confidently. "You handle the romance. Wait, maybe I better handle the romance, too."
"Go to sleep, Justin," Jesse said, and turned his music up.
--
On a scale of one to ten Jesse was really only at about a six as far as nerves went, but Justin was also driving him absolutely up the wall and they were sharing a hotel room, which wasn't helping any. Justin took Jesse downstairs to show him the stage and all the round tables in the room that would be full of investors and potential investors and people who worked for CWE. Jesse abruptly skyrocketed up to at least a nine.
"You'll be fine," said Justin. "You always think you're way more awkward than you really are."
"That's completely true, except for how entirely backwards you are," said Jesse. "I'm a million times more awkward than anyone could possibly imagine."
Justin made a face and shrugged. "I'd offer to pretend to be you and give the speech for you," he said. "But I think we've all learned that's a really bad idea."
"You're hilarious."
"Don't worry, dude," said Justin, doing a little dance with just his shoulders. "If you get all nervous and fumble the speech I'll jump up on stage and fix everything. That's my job. I got your back, bro."
"You're giving me a stress headache," Jesse said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Alex, the head of Clean Water Everywhere, swept into the room. "Boys!" he said. "My favorite New Yorkers. You're not worried about the speeches tonight, are you? Everyone's terribly excited to hear you speak. We're thinking about opening up a New York office, you know, and maybe one in Los Angeles."
"I'm not nervous," said Justin, "but Jesse basically lives there. I wouldn't worry."
Alex smiled at them. He was nice, and Jesse was glad; Andrew deserved a nice boss, wherever he was. "Come and have a drink with me; we'll see if we can't work those nerves of yours out," Alex said.
"Not sure that's a great idea-" Jesse began.
"It's an awesome idea," said Justin, lighting up. "This hotel has a bar?"
"This hotel has an amazing bar," said Alex. Jesse hoped that maybe the two of them would bond over their mutual love of drinking and forget about him, but Alex clapped him on the shoulder and said, "You look like a vodka and tonic man to me."
"Oh," said Jesse. "Do I? I always thought I looked more Jewish."
Alex barked a great big laugh. "Wonderful," he said. "I know the barman. He's a great friend of mine, and he makes the drinks nice and strong. Come along." He started down the hall, confident that Jesse and Justin would follow him, which they did, mostly because Justin grabbed Jesse by the arm.
"Really?" Jesse sighed quietly. "Can't I be the designated driver?"
"Our room is in this hotel, so no. You can't be the designated pussy." Jesse made a big show of sighing and rolling his eyes, but not where Alex could see him. He suspected a drink really would make him feel better about giving a speech to a bunch of strangers, particularly a bunch of strangers who might hate him, depending on what Andrew had said before he took off for Africa.
The bar was so swank that Jesse almost didn't walk in, but Justin gave him a shove, and then Alex handed him a drink. It was hard to get comfortable on the shiny leather and chrome tables, or maybe it was jet lag and the lingering anxiety pills he'd taken twelve hours ago, but Jesse felt even more awkward than usual.
"Drink up, man," said Justin, clinking glasses with Alex. "Cheers! That's what you say over here, right?" Alex, just like a million clients before him, looked oddly charmed by Justin's total ridiculousness. Jesse was never going to understand it.
It was a bad idea, Jesse thought again, but Justin and Alex were watching him expectantly, and as long as he stopped at one it couldn't be the worst disaster ever, could it? "Cheers, then," Jesse sighed, and took a sip.
--
Jesse held on to Justin with one hand, because the room was swaying around in circles. "I know England's an island," he said. "Is that why it's rocking up and down?"
Justin gave him a funny look. "You okay?" he asked. They were sitting right up near the front of the banquet room, and the lights were shining straight into Jesse's eyes. The crowd around them applauded politely for whomever was speaking. Jesse meant to listen, he really did, but he couldn't get his brain to stay focused on one topic long enough to figure out what anyone was saying.
"I'm great," said Jesse. "Wait. What?"
Justin pushed a glass of water over to him. "You're going up on stage to speak in like, a hot minute," said Justin quietly, "so you better drink a shitload of water in the next thirty seconds. You sound drunk as shit."
"I'm not drunk," Jesse insisted, but he couldn't stop blinking, and Justin was going in and out of focus. "I stopped after two drinks."
"You stopped after five drinks," said Justin. "And if Emma asks, I said that was a bad idea."
"You bought them for me," said Jesse. He thought he was maybe going to throw up, but at least it was from alcohol poisoning and not nerves.
"Right, but if Emma asks I definitely didn't," Justin said. "Oh shit, you're being introduced."
Jesse was wonderfully unworried about it, because he couldn't quite figure out what Alex was saying up on stage. Something about money and investments, which was kind of what Jesse did, although not exactly. He thought about maybe going up and correcting him. "I'm good," said Jesse. "I'm fine. It'll be fine."
"Do you have your presentation?" Justin asked, looking worried, but then Jesse heard his name and decided it was probably time to go up on stage.
He got up the steps with a minimum of swaying and without falling over even once. Alex shook his hand and it sounded like a lot of people were clapping, but Jesse couldn't see them because the lights were in his eyes.
"We went out for a drink before this, I'm feeling a little… Whee," said Jesse. Everyone laughed. Jesse felt like he was watching a movie of himself talking to a room full of strangers, which was so liberating that he decided to just wing the speech. "I just wanted to say thanks for inviting me out here to speak to you. I'm sure my cats miss me, but my friend Emma's going to feed them, so it'll be okay." He squinted into the lights, trying to remember what he'd been planning to say. It was all fuzzy and vague. "I'm glad I've been able to bring in big returns for you guys. You seem really nice. You all seem really…" He trailed off. "You know who was really nice? Andrew. I mean, of course you know him, you worked with him. He's probably the nicest person I ever met. Nice, and funny, and sweet. I think I’m gonna throw up, but don't worry; it's not because I feel so bad about him anymore, now it's because I drank too much." The room had gotten really quiet, and Jesse could hear Justin hissing something at him, but it seemed really far away and unimportant.
Jesse flapped his hands around a little bit. "I miss him, but I probably shouldn't, because I lied to him and he hates me, but if he weren't in Africa I'd tell him I'm really, really sorry. I don't usually lie to people. I don't usually… I mean, but hey, I made you guys seven percent profits this quarter. Can you tell Andrew? I don't think he'd answer the phone if I called, but he should know. I… I wanted him to… I'm just really sorry. I was so in love with him and I never said." The stage was spinning in lazy circles around him
Justin was definitely not part of this speech, but for some reason he was on stage anyway, grabbing Jesse by the arm. "Okay, that's way more than enough," Justin said. He leaned in to the mic and joked, "That's what we get for enjoying English hospitality, am I right?" There was cautious laughter, and Jesse frowned; this was definitely supposed to have been his speech, not Justin's.
"You're pretending to be me again," Jesse objected.
"I thought New Yorkers could hold their liquor, but you guys have one heck of a guy in Alex," Justin went on, still smiling. Everyone laughed again, louder. "Listen, thanks so much for flying us out here tonight. We have some slides about the investments and the profit margin and some really great ideas for what we think you guys should do as next steps, and I'm going to come back and explain it to you in a minute. But first my friend here is feeling his jet lag - and let's not lie, those free drinks - and I'm gonna walk him upstairs." There was some clapping and some laughter and then Justin was pushing Jesse off stage.
"I didn't get to finish," Jesse complained.
"Dude, this is a mercy killing," said Justin. "I'm never letting anyone buy you a drink again."
"But you bought them," Jesse objected. "Anyway, I think it's all the medicine I took for the flight." The room was spinning a little bit again. "It made me feel all… Round and round."
"Lord," said Justin. "Okay, you're gonna drink some water and go lie down and we'll figure out what to tell Walsh in the morning." He pushed Jesse into the elevator and propped him up against the wall. The elevator was all glass and metal and it felt cool against Jesse's forehead when he started sinking into the wall.
"I think I'm drunk," Jesse said.
"No shit, Sherlock," Justin agreed. The doors binged and opened again. "If you throw up in our room I'm gonna make you pay for a separate room for me tonight."
"I'm starting to feel a little better." Justin opened the hotel room door and pushed him in and sat him down on the bed. The room had stopped spinning and settled into place, and Jesse blinked and found Justin's face stayed in focus even when he walked around the room.
"Well, you couldn't have gotten any drunker," Justin said. "Water. Drink."
Jesse drank obediently and his head started feeling a little clearer. "Hang on," he said slowly. "What did I just give a speech about?"
Justin refilled the glass and handed it back to him. "Mostly about your crush on Andrew. I think I can salvage it but I have to get back downstairs. You're gonna lie down while I go and save both our asses. Thank god you already made slides. You okay? Okay, I'll be back. Seriously, don't throw up on my stuff."
"I feel a lot better," Jesse said, but he was still happy to let Justin wrestle his tie and jacket off and push him back down on the hotel bed. He was having trouble remembering exactly what he'd said on stage but he was sure it wasn't good. Hopefully everyone would just think he was a drunk, jet-lagged idiot and no one would wonder too hard about why he'd talked about … Oh god, what had he said about Andrew? Jesse groaned and rolled over, hiding his face against the pillows. He sincerely hoped he'd never remember the entire thing clearly.
He dozed off, or maybe the alcohol and pills finally caught up with him again, because a knock on the hotel room door startled him awake. Jesse's head was throbbing but at least he felt like he was present in the room instead of watching himself give the most embarrassing speech of all time. In fact, he didn't feel drunk at all anymore, just overwhelmingly embarrassed and tired. His mouth tasted like something had died in it or he might have thought the whole thing was a dream.
There was more loud knocking on the door. Jesse rolled off of the bed, pleased that he had his sense of balance back. His t-shirt was pretty rumpled and he'd drooled on the blankets a little bit, but he was mostly human. This was probably Alex, coming upstairs to tell him he was fired. He hoped he hadn't gotten Justin in trouble too, at least.
Jesse fumbled with the weird hotel door knob and pulled it open.
Andrew was standing in the hall. He looked a little sunburned and as exhausted as Jesse felt, and there was something horribly fragile about the way he was standing, arms crossed over his chest, one sneaker rubbing anxiously at the back of his other ankle.
Jesse's mouth fell open. "Am I still drunk?" he asked, and then clapped a hand over his mouth because that wasn't the first thing he wanted to say to Andrew. The first thing he wanted to say to him was… Well. Everything.
"That was the worst speech I've ever heard," said Andrew tightly, looking mostly at the floor. He pressed his lips together and looked up at Jesse for a second, then faltered and went back to his sneakers. "Did you mean it?"
"I…" Jesse started. He wondered if he should mention he barely remembered most of what he'd said. He knew he'd apologized, though. "Yes. I'm a pretty terrible liar."
"That hasn't been my experience, actually," Andrew said quietly.
"Oh," said Jesse. "Ouch. True. Except you'd never have believed me if you'd seen me even for a second. Justin never believed me, no matter how many times I told him you were just some person on the internet, and it didn't matter…" He trailed off. Andrew probably didn't want to hear that.
"Was I not?" Andrew asked, looking up and biting his lip.
Jesse tried really hard to swallow, and couldn't, so he tried really hard to say, "No," but the word got stuck in his throat. He shook his head instead.
"I really, really liked you," Andrew said quietly.
"I only lied because of how much I liked you," Jesse said. Andrew laughed disbelievingly. "No, I mean… Your pictures were so cool, and you were so together, and I look so ridiculous in every photograph, and I just… I didn't want you to be disappointed and stop talking to me, I… I panicked, and I'm so sorry, I should have told you, I shouldn't have let Justin go out with you, I shouldn't have lied on the phone." There were so many sorrys to say that Jesse couldn't stop them from tripping all over each other. "I am a screw up and a jerk. I'm so sorry. I think I can find more ways to say it. I apologize. I regret it. I-"
"Stop," said Andrew, laughing a little. "That's plenty, you don't have to flagellate yourself. I mean, more than you already did downstairs. I appreciated that."
"I'll do it again," Jesse offered desperately, because it seemed like there was a chance, however slight, that just maybe Andrew was going to forgive him. "I'll tell everybody, I'll go on television or something, I-"
"No," said Andrew quietly. "Just… Just tell me again."
He looked hopeful. Jesse hadn't seen Andrew looking hopeful before, it was… It was terrifying, because it was something that could go away again at any second, and he knew it. "I'm sorry," Jesse said, trying to put months of apologies into one little sentence.
"Okay," said Andrew. And then, before Jesse could react at all, Andrew leaned forward and kissed him.
Andrew was taller than he was, it was weird for just a second, but Andrew fisted one hand in Jesse's rumpled t-shirt and pulled him closer, and his mouth was warm and a little bit desperate against Jesse's. Jesse grabbed Andrew's shoulders with both hands because he didn't know what else to do, but there was a chance that Andrew might go away again, and Jesse was pretty sure he couldn't go on living if that happened. Andrew kissed him harder, and all the crumpled, broken things inside Jesse's chest started to unfurl themselves again, giddy and feathered and whole.
"Wait," said Jesse, pushing Andrew back just a fraction. Andrew looked puzzled. "I… My breath is gross right now, I was drinking with your boss. I can brush my teeth and we can start this again, maybe?"
Andrew looked at him for just a second, puzzled and delighted and something else Jesse wasn't sure about, and then he started to laugh. He laughed with his entire body, shoulders shaking, face lighting up until he hid it against Jesse's shoulder, giggling helplessly.
"I knew you'd be better than Justin was," Andrew managed. He hadn't let go of Jesse's t-shirt, and Jesse wasn't ever going to ask him to. "You're fantastic. How are you real?"
"Why aren't you in Malawi?" Jesse asked, hopelessly confused. "I mean, don't go away, please."
Andrew laughed again. "I just got back. Someone called Emma at your company phoned Alex and told him I was urgently needed for this dinner."
Jesse was going to call her and yell at her and then buy her all the flowers in New York. "I didn't mean to make you flee the continent," Jesse said. "You can have Europe, I'll stay in New York."
"No," said Andrew fiercely, tightening his fingers in Jesse's shirt. "I think that's a terrible idea. Malawi was… It's lovely, the people are so nice and I did so much and learned tons of things. But I was pretty miserably lonely, too."
"I'm sorry--" Jesse started again.
Andrew kissed him until he stopped trying to apologize. "Okay," said Andrew, mouth still against his. "It's okay."
Jesse shook his head and Andrew kissed him again, fiercely, biting at Jesse's lip until he gave up and kissed back. Jesse thought that if any time Andrew wanted him to stop doing something he kissed him… Well. That would be alright.
"Please don't go away again," Jesse said, a little plaintively.
"I think I'll tell Alex I want to come back to London. He won't be too surprised. I mean, you just told everyone I work with that you're in love with me," Andrew said. He grinned, looking pleased and a little shy. "You should tell me."
"Hopelessly," said Jesse, and Andrew smiled. "Desperately. Stupidly. Oh god, so very, very stupidly in love with you."
Andrew looked at him fondly, like Jesse was birthday cake or a box full of puppies or something he was sure he didn't deserve to be compared to. "Good," said Andrew. "Because I felt so stupid for being in love with you when I found out you'd lied."
"I'm sorry," Jesse said. He had a feeling he was going to be saying that forever.
Andrew shook his head. "Just promise you won't make a fool out of me again." He slipped one of his hands around Jesse's waist, on the small of his back, rubbing his thumb over the spot where a too-tight belt had left red marks on Jesse's skin.
"I definitely promise never to lie to you about another dating profile," Jesse agreed.
Andrew laughed and dug his fingers into the small of Jesse's back. "That won't be a problem," he said. "You have to take that profile down anyway."
"Do I?" Jesse asked, feeling stupid and overwhelmed and so happy he almost couldn't breathe.
"You're taken," said Andrew, and kissed him again.
Later
Jesse had been living in his apartment for so long that when he woke up he could tell whether the closet doors were open or shut without even looking. He could just feel where the walls were, whether he'd left things out on the floor, how many cats were perched on the bed. So before he opened his eyes he'd catalogued a few things.
First, the sun was just starting to slope in through the window; not quite dawn in early fall was too early to be awake. Second, there was only one cat on the bed, probably Raskolnikov. Otherwise he was alone.
Jesse had just a second of panic, and then he remembered the note that Andrew had put up on the fridge sometime during his last weekend in New York - a weekend that had turned into a week despite his good intentions to get back to work.
First rule: if you wake up alone I HAVEN'T LEFT. You'll know if I've left because you'll have taken a cab with me to the airport. Do you remember a cab? No. So I'm still here. Look around! Maybe I'm hiding. ;)
Jesse flailed a little with one hand to make sure he really was alone and then groaned, rubbing his eyes open. Andrew had pushed the blankets back and the sheets there were cool under Jesse's fingers.
He rolled out of bed and put his glasses on, rubbing the bridge of his nose until the gyroscope in his head stopped spinning and told him which way was up. Raskolnikov meowed indignantly at being jostled. Jesse petted him perfunctorily and looked around for Mrs. Pennyfarthing and Number Three, but they were probably wherever Andrew was, the traitors.
When he felt like he could walk around without stumbling into any walls or tripping over his own feet Jesse shuffled into his slippers and down the hall to the living room. Andrew was sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop open, wearing a plaid shirt and nothing else except black boxer-briefs. Mrs. Pennyfarthing was snuggled in his lap and Number Three was sitting on the kitchen table, rubbing up against his computer. The kitchen was on the sunny side of the apartment, which meant the sun was giving Andrew's slightly ridiculous bed-head a halo effect.
Andrew glanced over at him and rolled his eyes, then looked back at the laptop. "That's sorted, then. I'll talk to you later." He reached forward and clicked something and then closed the computer.
"Business meeting?" Jesse asked.
"Coffee's in the pot," said Andrew. "Yes, of course it was a business meeting. It's work hours in England."
Andrew had left a mug out for him, which was sweet. Jesse poured himself some coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. "Do you usually wear pants at meetings? I'm just asking, I don't know how they do things over there."
"Not if I can help it," said Andrew, and waggled his eyebrows a little. Jesse managed not to crack up, which meant Andrew began laughing instead. "It's so early here! I was going to come back to bed. But I made coffee in case you woke up and panicked. You didn't, did you?"
"Of course not," Jesse lied.
"Eventually I'll convince you," Andrew said, smiling fondly.
Jesse would have been perfectly okay with their week-long vacation together turning into … well, some kind of magical forever-vacation, if such a thing had been possible. But he tried not to say that out loud in case Andrew wasn't as hopelessly infatuated as he was. Jesse shrugged. "You've taken over half my closets and my drawers and your stuff is everywhere. If there's more of you we'll have to get a bigger place."
He was just joking, but Andrew stopped laughing and started fidgeting in the chair instead. Jesse leaned over and kissed him, morning-coffee breath be damned, one hand on Andrew's shoulders. He savored the familiarity of Andrew's mouth, the way he could feel Andrew's breath speed up just a little bit, the lazy press of their tongues together.
"What?" Jesse asked, pulling back.
"Nothing," said Andrew, fidgeting enough that Mrs. Pennyfarthing meowed and jumped to the table. " I suppose that it's just that I was meant to be here for the week, and that was a week and a half ago, and I don't have a ticket home yet. But I do have to go. I've absolutely positively got to be in Bangladesh by next Wednesday. And I just don't want to overstay my welcome and take over all your space and-"
Jesse dug his thumb into the knot Andrew always had just above his shoulder blade, and Andrew stopped talking with a little sigh, eyes fluttering shut. "Rule number two," said Jesse.
"Right," Andrew agreed. "It's meant to go both ways."
A day or two after the first rule had gone up on the fridge Andrew had annotated it with a second: You aren't the only crazy one in this relationship. In his darker moments Jesse clung to that post-it note desperately.
"The cats like you better than me," said Jesse. "So you know. I take that as a good sign." Andrew huffed a little laugh. "Seriously, you're always welcome here. I'd rather have you here than anywhere else. You should quit your job and just stay with me. You dress like an itinerant hobo anyway." Whoops. Had that slipped out?
Andrew gave Jesse a little shove, rolling his eyes. "Says the man who only owns two pairs of jeans, one of which he stole from Justin. Why won't you let me take you shopping?"
"Why would you bother?" Andrew glared until Jesse sighed and apologized. "Right, sorry. It's because I don't see the point so I spend the whole time being a big whiny baby and making you sorry you ever met me. Apparently."
"Yes," said Andrew definitely. "That's what it is, I knew it was something."
"Well, you do make a point of telling me that every time you drag me out to stores. You bring that pain on yourself."
"Shut up," said Andrew cheerfully. "I just end up buying myself something, it all works out. Shopping in New York is amazing. That's the other reason I never go home." He'd moved over so he was somehow half on his chair, half on top of Jesse, who didn't mind too much when their legs got tangled together.
"You've been here three times," said Jesse. "I guess it's probably my turn to go to London, is what you're trying to tell me."
"Well, it is," said Andrew, lighting up, "although it hadn't occurred to me to demand visitation rights. You stayed in London after the conference -"
"Justin stole my ticket home as revenge for us locking him out of the hotel room."
"The only nice thing he's ever done." Andrew waved that off. "And then I came out for a weekend -"
"Eight days."
"And now I've come out for a week-"
"Sixteen days and counting."
"Stop interjecting facts, you're interrupting," said Andrew imperiously. Jesse held up his hands in surrender and went back to drinking his coffee while Andrew rambled. It was one of Jesse's new hobbies. "So yes, it is your turn. But my point was, Emma told me you never take the days you've got for holiday, so you've got lots and lots of time, and I think you ought to come with me to Bangladesh."
Jesse choked and started coughing.
"And then come with me to England, because I promised mum she'd get to meet you. She's a bit up and down on you, I'm afraid. First I told her you were wonderful, and then there was that part we don't talk about where I didn't like you quite as much and she's convinced you're the reason I went to Africa and got malaria, even though I didn't get malaria. Only I got a bit sick after I got back and mum thinks it was a very mild case. So you should meet her and be your wonderful, charming self, and then she'll understand why I'm so infatuated."
"What do you think I'm going to do in Bangladesh?" Jesse asked. Andrew was giving him the sad eyes, which meant he was probably going to crack and end up on the wrong side of the world getting malaria himself, or sunstroke, or being bitten by a poisonous snake. They had those in Bangladesh, didn't they?
"I think you'll help me dig wells whilst looking terribly manly and sweaty, and you'll sweet-talk all the local authorities into letting us start some new water filtration projects," said Andrew.
"How do you say this stuff with a straight face?" Jesse asked.
Andrew laughed. "I'm serious! We'll only be there a week, then we'd go to London and you can meet my mum and my friends. Carey and Rob need to get to know you. And I can show you around the city! We didn't see much of it last time. Mostly just the inside of my flat."
"Mostly just the inside of your bedroom."
"Yes," said Andrew, blushing just a little. "I'm aware. I was there."
"Speaking of which, the inside of my bedroom is right over there," said Jesse, hoping to change the subject.
"Come with me," Andrew pleaded. "Otherwise I'll be gone a month and I won't see you at all. Please? You can say it's for work, you're supervising your investments. Please come with me? Please?"
"Augh," said Jesse. He had to look away, staring out the window so he wouldn't say Yes, of course, anything you want, any time you want. "Fine! Just stop it, with the eyes. I have enough trouble saying no to you."
"Do you?" asked Andrew, delighted.
Jesse groaned. "You can't seriously be asking me that."
"So you'll come?" Andrew leaned forward eagerly, biting his lip.
"God. Yes. Obviously." Andrew pumped his fist happily and Jesse just shook his head, because there was nothing on earth he had quite as much trouble with as Andrew when he was really enthusiastic.
Andrew leaned forward and grabbed Jesse's face with both hands, kissing him enthusiastically and all but crawling into his lap. "Fantastic," he said. "Wonderful. You won't be sorry. Bangladesh is beautiful."
Jesse knew he wouldn't be sorry, because whatever stupid thing he ended up wearing or doing or saying Andrew would be there. He also knew it was going to be a disaster, and he'd probably end up sick or injured or accidentally stranded on a desert island somehow. He'd deal with it for Andrew.
"We'll have to get Emma to watch the cats," Jesse said.
"I love Emma. Emma is wonderful, she's a fantastic cat-sitter. I'll go with you to work and ask her and she'll say yes because she thinks you should come to Bangladesh with me," Andrew said cheerfully. Jesse gave him a little look. "It's possible I already ran this by your office to see if they'd let you go," Andrew added, looking the tiniest bit guilty and also immensely proud of himself.
"Please tell me you weren't talking to Justin," said Jesse.
Andrew frowned a little. "No," he said shortly. He had a lingering grudge against Justin which he couldn't entirely hide, and Jesse thought it was adorable. No one had ever preferred him to Justin before. Not like this.
"Bangladesh," said Jesse again, because he couldn't believe that he'd just agreed to that. He was feeling a little giddy and a lot apprehensive, but mostly like the world's biggest dope, and not sorry about it.
"One more thing," said Andrew, hurriedly, like he was afraid Jesse would take back his agreement. "I was just skyping in to work."
"I know," said Jesse. Number Three butted his head against his shoulder, asking for more food. It was probably time to admit that he wasn't giving that cat back to the shelter and give it a real name.
Andrew flailed around a little and nearly spilled Jesse's coffee all over both of them. "No, stop, I'm all flustered now, I didn't think you'd say yes. I mean, I did think you would, but I had assumed I'd need to bribe you. Anyway. Alex wants to set up a New York office and he asked if I wanted to run it. It wouldn't be full time, but I'd be in New York about three quarters of the time, and I haven't said yes because a weekend isn't the same as nine months, but I thought I'd mention it, just in case-"
"Oh my god," said Jesse. He tried to stand up and almost dumped Andrew on the floor. He put his coffee down, because his half-naked boyfriend probably didn't want to be covered in scalding hot coffee. "Seriously?"
"Is it alright?" Andrew asked. "I know how you get about your space and your stuff and your apartment and change. The last thing I want is to trigger another psychotic break where I get back to find Justin in my bed or something."
Jesse dug his finger into Andrew's side until Andrew yelped and laughed and wiggled away, dragging Jesse to his feet. "It's great," said Jesse. "You already have half my closets. The cats like you. Please move to New York. Oh god, I will go to Bangladesh with you ten times if you move to New York with me."
"I can get a flat," said Andrew, pulling Jesse down the hall toward the bedroom. "Sorry, an apartment."
"Don't get either one, stay here," Jesse argued, letting himself be pulled. "You know I like to be inside my apartment whenever possible. So really, you should be here as much as possible."
"Here, or…" Andrew pushed open the door to the bedroom. "Here? Out, Raskolnikov. Get out."
"Well, here and in here," Jesse allowed. Andrew handed him the disgruntled cat and Jesse put him down in the hallway and shut the door. "I'm fine with either one. I'm fine with anything as long as you're in New York."
"Part time!" Andrew reminded him. "I suppose we could try it and I could always get my own flat if it's too much for you."
"You're never too much for me," said Jesse. "Let's make that rule three."
Andrew beamed. "That's my favorite rule so far." He was kneeling on the bed, all ridiculously skinny hairy legs and his absurd plaid shirt and Jesse was so horribly in love that he could feel it bursting out of his chest. "You're never too much for me, either."
"That shirt, though," said Jesse. "That's kind of too much for me."
"I was planning to take it off," said Andrew, grinning wickedly and pulling Jesse onto the bed. And then he did.