lost_boy | (no subject)

Entry tags:

elio

(no subject)

A lot of the time I had a difficult time really communicating my feelings. I knew anger and I knew love, I knew happiness and sadness, but trying to put those things into words wasn't always easy for me. It was better than it used to be, I was better. I had a therapist and I was older and it wasn't that I was angry with myself right now for not being able to articulate everything I felt.

I just knew I wanted to get it right.

Elio wouldn't judge me, though, if I struggled. Elio never judged me. It was truly what having a real brother was like, even without having ever had one, I could say that with certainty. I just knew.

Which is why I was there. I showed up at the bookstore after hours, but went up the stairs on the side of the building that led to the outside door of the apartment upstairs. Elio knew I was coming, but I still didn't just burst in. I knocked politely, then put my cold hand in my pocket and waited for him to let me in.

I still didn't know how to say what I was feeling, but Elio would help me figure it out.

And I had brought him dinner.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's bad timing and amazing timing all at once, really.

Jamie texts and asks to swing by when I am deep in the throes of working on a new song, and there only a very small handful of people who could interrupt me when I'm on a roll like this. One of them is out to dinner with some colleagues, and the other is knocking on the door right now.

"Come in!" I call out from where I'm sitting on my closed piano with an acoustic guitar in my lap and a pencil behind my ear, hair pushed back with an elastic headband. When Jamie walks through the door, I play a little riff on my guitar and smile warmly at him. "Ciao, bello."

These were the moments when it occurred to me most plainly just how different Elio and I were. We looked alike, of course, but he was such an artist in every possible way, where I was not. My mind was too stuck, too rigid, to be an artist, to create the way Elio did and I grinned at him as I shut the door against the chill.

"Hi," I answered. "I'm interrupting you, aren't I?"

He would never tell me to leave, but I still felt a little guilty at disrupting his creativity.

"Oh, very much so," I assure him, but I'm smiling as I say it. "But it's okay. I probably should take a little break before I burn myself out, anyway."

After lifting the guitar, I set it carefully on the piano and hop to the floor, stretching my arms up over my head.

"Plus, you brought sustenance." I duck forward and grab the bag of food from him, planting a quick kiss to his cheek before heading into the kitchen. "What do you want to drink?"

Elio and I were so different, but it was in all the best ways. We knew each other well, our strengths and our weaknesses, and even though we looked so alike, I loved to see the ways we were different. He was so personable, where I knew I wasn't always, and even the way he greeted me felt special.

He was also a much better host.

"Oh, just water is fine," I promised, following him into the kitchen. "I brought Mexican. Tacos and burritos. I wasn't sure what you might want."

Nodding, I drop the bag of food on the counter and duck into the tiny laundry room to grab a clean t-shirt and pull it on, then pull plates down from the cabinet. I hadn't even realized just how hungry I was until there was food put in front of me, and my stomach growls with eager anticipation as I hand a plate over to Jamie and then load mine up with tacos.

"No, this is perfect. Thank you." After moving out of the way so he can fix his plate, I grab two bottles of water from the fridge and set one down in front of him before dropping down at the small table in the dining nook. The whole apartment is pretty small, and that worked when I was living here alone, pathetic and sad, and while it still mostly works with me and Oliver here, it's probably time to start thinking about a new place.

"Ohh, my God. These are amazing," I say with my mouth full, nodding happily as I go in for another bite.

I grinned, wide and pleased, because I liked making people happy. Sometimes it was as easy as bringing someone tacos when I knew they would likely be hungry and it made me happy in turn.

And the tacos were really good.

"How is the writing going?" I asked before I took a sip of water and then started in on a burrito. "It seems like it was going well." I could always tell when Elio felt good, when he was pleased about something. That made me happy, too.

"Productive! I'm wrapping up something kind of dance-y. Kind of a summer anthem for the dead of winter," I say with a shrug, foot tapping to the beat in my head without my even realizing it. I take another big bite of food and wash it down with a swig of soda, reaching for a napkin to wipe my face.

"And what's up with you?" I ask him, because while Jamie is the type of person to do nice things for no reason, he looks like he might have something on his mind. "You look thinky."

I liked seeing Elio when he was working. It almost felt magical, as if he was going somewhere only a few select people would ever be able to go. It was certainly beyond my reach, this magic place where he found the music, and I didn't mind.

I'd had enough magic in my life, but I loved to see it in others.

His question surprised me and I laughed and wiped my mouth. "Do I have a thinky look?" I asked. I supposed everyone did, they probably just didn't realize it. "I'm... well, I'm thinking of doing something rather big."

"Well, I suppose that I'm at an advantage," I say with a bit of a playful smirk, taking another bite from my taco and chewing before continuing. "Considering that we have the same face."

It's been long enough that the novelty of us looking just alike has mostly worn off. There are stark differences between us now-- his wide shoulders and missing hand, my longer hair and more wiry frame, but our faces are still so similar, even down to the chicken pox scar on our cheek. It makes him easier to read.

"Oh? That sounds exciting." Since it seems like we're veering into a serious topic, I finish the taco in my hand and wash it down with a few gulps of water, wiping my hands on a napkin so I can give him my full attention. "Please do share with the class."

I set my food down, then carefully brushed my palms against each other, wiping away crumbs. My heart was pounding, a thundering against my ribs, and if this was how I felt just telling Elio what my plans were, I wasn't sure how I would ever managed to go through with them.

That was silly. Of course I would go through with it. It was just entirely possible my heart might explode first.

"I think I'm going to ask Eddie to marry me," I blurted out suddenly. "On Christmas Eve."

Jamie seems flustered, which in itself is slightly unusual. Of the two of us, I am much more likely to get flustered. Take, for example, what I do when Jamie tells me that he plans to propose to Eddie. I become very flustered.

I try to keep my expression as neutral as possible as I process the swirl of dizzying emotion that hits me all at once, but my face drains of color as an anxious flush rushes down my body. It's not as if this is bad news. This is very happy, very wonderful news. I am so glad for them, but the topic of marriage in any form is one that I try to keep hidden away in a little box so I don't constantly think about how I am a twenty-two year old divorcé. I want so badly to be married again, and I know that it's selfish to think about myself at all in such a joyous moment, but I have long since given up on trying to pretend that I am not, at least occasionally, a selfish prick.

It takes a moment for my brain to reboot and eventually I shake myself a little, swallowing hard and then doing my very best to shovel all of that selfish negativity back into that little box in my brain, because this is Jamie's moment and I am thrilled for him. A little scared, too. It feels almost like hubris, at this point, to make such a declaration here in Darrow, but I keep that to myself as well.

"Jamie!" I blurt out, pushing myself up from the table to come around and give him a hug while he's still sitting down, feeling my eyes water as I bury my face in his unruly hair. "That's amazing. I'm so happy for you."

And I am, truly. I can feel many things, all at once, but most of all I am happy for my brother.

At first, I worried I had said something wrong. Elio looked... well, I wasn't entirely certain. I could tell he was trying to keep something from his expression, almost like he was flustered by the news, because Elio could read me, but I could read him, too.

It struck me a moment too late. Elio was already hugging me when I realized he had been married to Oliver and now he wasn't. Talking about someone else getting married couldn't be easy for him and I felt a rush of guilt. But I had to tell him. He was my brother.

Besides, I knew he wasn't lying when he said he was happy for me. I knew he meant it and I hugged him back fiercely, almost trying to apologize with it.

The way that Jamie hugs me back tells me that he's caught on to what I'm feeling, that he's empathizing with me, and I gently shush him before pulling back enough to press a firm kiss to the top of his head. It means a lot that he'd think about my feelings even in a moment as big for him as this.

Once we let go of each other, I go to the fridge to grab one of the tiny bottles of champagne that I regularly smuggle out of the club, and then two glasses. Returning to the table, I tug my chair closer to his and open the bottle, pouring us each a little big of champagne for a proper toast.

And yeah, maybe because I could use a drink.

"Tell me everything," I say excitedly, twisting to prop my chin up on my hand and look at him. "How are you going to do it?"

"Do you always keep champagne handy?" I asked, grinning as Elio poured two glasses for us. This news felt special and I was excited to share it with Elio, but I certainly wouldn't have thought to bring champagne to this evening.

Elio was much more sophisticated than I would ever be. If he wouldn't mind it, I thought I would like to have his help planning.

"Well, as part of Eddie's gift, I got us a room at Kagura for Christmas Eve," I said. "I saved for it all year and made sure it fit into the budget and we'll have a nice room service dinner and wake up there Christmas morning. So I thought I would do it that night maybe."

"Darling, I'm French," I reply in a playfully haughty voice, lifting my glass and tipping it toward him. "I like having these small bottles on hand. You never know when there might be something to celebrate."

While Jamie reveals his plan, I sip from my glass and watch him with a fond, pleased look on my face, propping my chin up on my palm. Jamie is such a sweet person, always thinking of others, and Eddie is so lucky. He needs someone like Jamie, I think, just like I need someone like Oliver. Eddie has the tendency to spiral, to treat little things like the end of the world, and I can relate to that. We need calm, thoughtful people to keep us tethered to the ground sometimes.

"I think that's an amazing plan," I assure him, smiling widely and clinking my glass against his. "You'll have to let me know how it goes." My smile goes a bit teasing and I wink at him, because Jamie is so fun to tease. "Once you come up for air, of course."

I wrinkled my nose at Elio, even though I knew exactly what he meant and I knew he was right. Eddie had gotten much more comfortable with the physical aspects of our relationship and I had never once pushed him or asked for anything that made him uncomfortable. I had let him guide what we did and let him decide when he was ready.

And he was ready in many ways. Readier than I expected sometimes. Not that I was going to say that out loud right now.

"Well, I wasn't planning on calling you the night of," I teased back, because that was both vague and extremely telling. Then I stuck my tongue out and clinked our glasses again before I took a sip.

"Well, I should hope not," I reply with a laugh. Jamie isn't much of a gossip in general, but certainly not about his sex life, which at times I find disappointing simply because I am a nosy, sick person and I like hearing those sorts of details. I do know that they aren't as-- well, adventurous-- in bed (or out of bed) as me and Oliver, so I try not to pry even if I want to.

But-- I know how Eddie is about the possibility of germs. Do he and Jamie rim each other? Do they even know that men do that to each other? I didn't, not until Oliver showed me. I am suddenly immensely curious about his, and I have to remind myself that we're talking about love, not sex. The two get so confused for me sometimes.

"Besides, I'm sure that I'll be busy that night," I tell him, teasing and smug all at once. "Santa's not the only thing coming down my chimney on Christmas Eve, if you know what I mean."

Okay, that one was just to see what kind of face he'll make. As a treat for me.

The champagne went straight up my nose when I inhaled sharply, caught somewhere between horror and amusement. It was, by far, the grossest and strangest way I had ever heard anyone describe sex and I wanted to kick Elio for it, but I was too busy choking on the bubbles in my sinuses.

"You're a jerk!" I declared, still coughing and laughing all at the same time. "Oh my god."

I loved him so much. In every ridiculous thing he said with the hopes of making me choke or laugh or be horrified, I loved every single part of Elio.

Jamie's reaction makes me cackle with delight, tossing my head back to laugh at his red cheeks and runny nose, wet with inhaled champagne. It feels like a good brotherly moment, me teasing him about sex and grossing him out, and that makes me deliriously happy. I never thought I'd know what it felt like to have a brother, but Darrow has given me one. It's given me Oliver, even if there was a hiccup there. This city can be so cruel, but I can't hate it. Not entirely.

"You love me," I say with a laugh, lunging forward to throw my arms around him to give him a tight squeeze. "You love me so damn much."

"Ugh," I said, batting at Elio with both my hands before I grabbed him up into a hug. "I do love you. Even though you're a bloody jerk to me."

I clearly didn't mean my words. There wasn't a time in my life here that Elio had been a jerk to me. He liked to tease and I liked to pretend it was the worst thing in the world, but I knew well what it was really like, being friends with someone who was cruel. Elio would never and could never be like Peter.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only