Unrequited Ch. 03

Author's Note:

This chapter is considerably shorter than the others, so sorry about the length. But the next (and final!) chapter should be much longer. I hope you enjoy!

- your city bird

The cab ride to Thom's apartment from the bar was more than a little bit tense. The pair sat on opposite ends of the leather bench seat, the air hanging between them heavily as they stared out their respective windows. Was there a certain script you were supposed to follow in a situation like this? Is there some cure-all concoction of words that would make this all easier? Unfortunately for them both, neither man knew.

As the cab pulled up to Thom's building, Thom glanced across the seat at Caleb. He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. Caleb's cheek was pressed against the cool window, causing the glass to fog and his mouth to hang open loosely as he let out a tiny snort of a snore (more like a sleep-hiccup actually) in his deep slumber. Thom's heart softened when he saw that face that had been so angry and hurt and full of resentment, now so peaceful and innocent.

Thom had forgotten how drunk Caleb had been at the bar. "Why he thought tonight was a good night to talk, I'll never know..." Thom mumbled as he tried to shake Caleb from his slumber. No use. All he got in return was a sleepy whine accompanied by a brief fluttering of his eyelids.

Thom nearly tumbled out of the elevator the doors slid open on his floor. Caleb hung limply from his arm, his feet barely grazing the ground as Thom dragged him down the hall. For such a short and slender guy, Caleb was a lot heavier than he looked. "I've gotta start working out more," Thom grumbled to himself as he pulled the zonked out Caleb toward his apartment.

He paused, taking a moment to unlock his door before scooping Caleb up in his arms, carrying his blushing bride over the threshold. Well, to be more specific, his blushing, wasted, and unconscious best friend who was madly in love with him but also completely pissed at him for acting like such a pig... But "blushing bride" just has more of a ring to it, doesn't it?

Thom brought Caleb into his bedroom, pushing back his fluffy white duvet and pulling off Caleb's shoes before laying him gently out on the cool sheets. Caleb's body quaked slightly from the cold and he let out a helpless whimper. Thom smiled sympathetically over his adorable little companion as he pulled the comforter over Caleb and tucked him in like his precious prize.

Thom just sat on the edge of the bed, watching Caleb as the turbulent expression on his face calmed. He slowly reached out a hand, cradling the side of that lovely face and brushing away the wild locks of white-blonde hair that spilled over his forehead and covered his eyes. "I'm sorry, Caleb," Thom whispered, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on Caleb's cheek. He rested his forehead against Caleb's, "I don't know if I can love you... But please, let me try..." He knew Caleb couldn't hear him, but he felt somewhat reassured as Caleb nuzzled his face into the touch of his hand.

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Caleb's mind stirred as he felt a gentle caress of his cheek and a slight pressure to his forehead. In his still-drunk and mostly-asleep state, Caleb sighed heavily, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.

That scent–that oh-so-familiar fragrance–surrounded him. Fabric softener sheets. Lemon. Faint salt like a sea breeze. Thom.

The words sailed into his ears, throwing a wrench into the machinery of his thoughts. "I don't know if I can love you... But please, let me try..."

The first part didn't matter. Not now. He wanted to try. He wanted to love him. This must be a dream. But right now, Caleb didn't care about that either. If this was a dream, God, it was a good one. Caleb turned his face into Thom's gentle touch, wanting to experience as much of this sensation as possible as he sighed once more and drifted back into the safety of sleep.

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The afternoon sun streamed through the window, searing through the eyelids of the unconscious Caleb and forcing him into the waking world. He stretched out his tightly curled limbs as he adjusted to the feeling of being alive. It was the first time in a few days that he'd had such a good rest. And no hangover.

Everything came flooding back to Caleb as his eyes snapped open like a mousetrap. This was Thom's bed. He had made it to Thom's apartment...

This was going to be a long day.

Caleb swung his legs off the bed from under the duvet and marched toward the door. When he opened the door to the living room, his heart broke at what he saw. Thom, sat back on the sofa made up with two large pillows, a bed sheet, and a quilt. He had taken the couch last night.

"Y'know, I would have been fine on the couch... You didn't have to."

Thom turned around to face the source of that quiet, lovely voice. His eyes lit up as they fell upon Caleb's face, but he made sure to restrain himself. They still had a lot to talk about; this was not the time to get all happy-go-lucky.

"Ahh, you're awake," Thom smiled, setting the book he was absorbed in on the coffee table, "You slept right through breakfast. I can make you lunch if you want. Or would you rather just have some coffee?"

"I'll just have a cup of coffee. But I can get it, don't worry. You just spent all night on your sofa. You've done enough," Caleb said as he walked toward the kitchen.

He yawned as he returned to the living room and plopped down on the couch beside Thom. He cradled his mug in his icy fingers, trying his hardest to coerce the warmth into his body as he sipped at the scalding black coffee.

Silence hung heavily between the two as both men stared in no particular direction, trying to put off the inevitable. Suddenly, the quiet was shattered by a sharp electronic beeping. "Shit," Thom muttered, pulling his cell phone from his pocket, "I've got to go to class. I only have one class this afternoon, though, and I don't have office hours today. Would it be too much to ask for you to wait for me? It won't be more than a couple of hours, I promise you!"

A small smile painted itself across Caleb's lips, making his emerald eyes sparkle slightly in the afternoon light. Thom really did care about him. He always seemed to be trying to make him comfortable, to be accommodating. "It's fine, I can wait," Caleb said, trying to make his voice sound more confident about his condition than he was. In reality, he was both anxious to get this conversation over with and desperate to prevent it from starting. He knew what needed to happen, but what he really wanted was to curl up in his bed and sleep the rest of his life away. He didn't want to have to face Thom about how he felt. It was humiliating enough before...

Thom got up from his seat on the couch and walked into his bedroom, fetching a black jacket and tie. Caleb recalled Thom telling him that he was applying for an associate psychology professor position next semester and couldn't help but smile as Thom fussed with a wrinkle in his white shirt. "What's with the suit?" Caleb said, still eyeing Thom curiously.

"They always say dress for the job you want, right?" Thom looked over his shoulder toward Caleb as he straightened his tie in the hall mirror. "Oh, so is the election soon then? Good luck, Mr. President," Caleb quipped, laughing playfully from his cozy spot on the sofa. Thom brushed a speck of lint from his sleeve and turned around, still smiling, but this time, the smile didn't reach his eyes. The way Thom looked at Caleb... It was almost sad. Caleb heard his heart 'thump... thump... THUMP................' then nothing. What was that look? What did that mean?

"I'll see you in a couple of hours okay? Just make yourself at home!" Thom said, turning back around and exiting swiftly.

"Okayyy.... Now what?" Caleb sighed to himself. That expression was just too strange. Maybe the way he was joking with Thom was just a little too familiar for their situation. It shouldn't have been so easy... But all Caleb wanted was the old Thom back. He wanted things to be the way they used to be. Even if that mean mooning over Thom behind his back for the rest of his life.

But how could things go back to the way they were after the other night? Thom had slept with Caleb. And then Caleb confessed his undying love. How are you supposed to just forget about something like that? The way Caleb saw it, he either wanted to be with Thom, be his partner, his lover, everything, or just have things go back to that easy, casual friendship. Right now, both of those options seemed too much to ask.

Caleb curled up, pulling his knees to his chest as he let out a yawn. Damn Thom for only drinking decaf. What's the point of drinking decaffeinated coffee?

Bit by bit, Caleb succumbed to the heavy pull back into slumber. What better way to pass the time?

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Caleb was sailing. The cerulean sea stretched out to the horizon in all directions as the sun hung high in the sky. His boat was an absolutely perfect vessel. The deck was polished and shining from stem to stern, it was of a perfect size for one man, and... it was rocking? Caleb looked around him to the water below, but there were no waves, just utter calm. But the boat was now rocking violently from side to side, threatening to throw Caleb in the waters, disturbing the perfection of his ocean.

And that it did. Caleb felt the water surrounding him, filling his nose, his mouth, his lungs. He was drowning. He was going to die like this. He took his final gasp...

...And sprang up from the couch, cracking his skull against Thom's. Caleb let out a high-pitched yowl, leaning back to his reclined position and cradling his now throbbing forehead. Thom's hand still rested on Caleb's shoulder from where he had tried to gently rock him from his sleep as he rubbed his other palm roughly across his own temple.

"Ugh! I'm sorry, Thom... I was sailing and the ocean was fine, but then I drowned..."

"Umm... Ooookay..." Thom chuckled as he narrowed his eyes skeptically.

"Really, I've been having the most vivid dreams the past few nights. Well, more like nightmares! It's been horrible! I mean..." Caleb paused as he realized the implications of his words. Talking about his shaky mental state and horrific Thom-nightmares WITH THOM didn't seem like the best idea right now. But Caleb was in Thom's apartment specifically to address some of these problems... They were here to talk after all.

Thom sighed and removed his hand from Caleb's shoulder and sat down on the coffee table in front of him, "Well, we are here to talk after all." Like a mind-reader.

"Sorry, I... ah... Yeah, I guess we are, aren't we..." Caleb mumbled out, abandoning his an attempt at an apology. What did he have to apologize about anyway? Just thinking about it made his blood pressure rise just a hair.

"Uhh... Yeah. This is nice and awkward now, isn't it?" Thom tried to laugh it off. Caleb wasn't laughing. "Well, I guess I should start? I'm not sure where to begin... Caleb, are you okay with this right now?" Thom stared as Caleb turned a sickly shade of pale before his eyes.

"Yeah. You go first," Caleb said, a light sweat making itself visible on his forehead as he spoke abruptly.

"Okay.. Uhh... Well... I guess, I really like you a lot, Caleb," Thom watched as Caleb flinched at the words, but continued forward. "I like you a lot. I didn't really realize it until that night we were together, but now I have no clue why I didn't see it. I mean, you're my best friend, we have so much in common it's almost like we're the same person, and–I don't know if I told you at the time or not, but–I think you're really fucking adorable." A bit of color returned to Caleb's face as a furious shade of red exploded across his cheeks.

"I guess," Thom continued, "there's only one thing holding me back. That night that you came here, I had just broken up with Julian. I don't know what I was thinking when I kissed you, Caleb. You were so kind to me, holding me, telling me everything was okay–it reminded me of the way Julian was in his kinder moments. And when I kissed you... I almost expected you to turn me down. I expected you to tell me 'no'. I expected you to hurt me like he had. Then you kissed me back. It wasn't like Julian at all. It was wonderful..." Tears started to well up in Thom's eyes as he spoke.

"It was wonderful, but..." Thom breathed in deeply trying to keep the trembling out of his voice. "But I've had Julian for five years... I know he cheated. Probably more than once... But he was with me for five years of my life. I just don't know how I feel about erasing all that time... I... I lo..." Thom started, and faltered, hiding his face in his hands.

Those last words that Thom nearly spoke shook Caleb from his shock. Pain seared in his chest as if someone had stabbed him through the heart with a red hot fireplace stoker. His knuckles turned white as he dug his fingers into his thighs. Maybe, if he heard him actually say it all this pain would go away.

Caleb looked up at the still shamefaced Thom, and drawing in a ragged breath, asked the question that was burning in his heart: "Do you still love him?"

Thom lifted his face from his hands, his crystalline blue eyes opening forlornly on Caleb's. Those eyes could only speak the truth. He didn't even have to say it, "Yes...."

Caleb was stunned by the feeling that flowed through him. It carried away all the pain he felt like a lazy river. In fact the feeling that he was experiencing was more like the complete lack of feeling. The emotions just flooded out of his body, leaving him completely numb.

Caleb sat, hands crossed in his lap, vacantly staring off into space as Thom continued to sob and babble an apology. Suddenly, the sound of his name being shouted at him through the haze reached his ears. He moved his blank stare to Thom's exasperated face. Thom didn't say anything, just stared at him, breathing heavily and sniffing back tears.

Caleb pushed himself up from the couch and stood before Thom. "Can I ask you for two favors?" This wasn't Caleb's usual voice. There was something broken and mechanical about it...

"I guess!" Thom said, confusion mixing in with the anger and sadness.

"One year from today, meet me at that SoHo cafe you like so much. At 2:30."

"A year? What are you talking about? Caleb, I need time to think about this, but that's too much! I can't be without..." Thom was cut off by Caleb's now monotonous voice, "The other thing I wanted to ask you: Can I be with you one more time? Just a pity fuck... I don't care." Caleb's blank eyes bore down on Thom. Something wasn't right.

"What?!" Thom said, standing up and towering over Caleb. "I would never.... A 'pity fuck'? What's gotten into you!?"

"You've gotten into me," Caleb said, suddenly pouncing on Thom, causing him to fall back onto the sofa. Caleb straddled his lap slowly grinding his hips against Thom's as he laved the crook of his neck with his tongue. "Caleb! Stop! Not like this!" Thom shouted, pulling Caleb's hungry mouth from his body by the grip on his shoulders.

"Then how?" Caleb said in that cool, heartless voice, "How can I have you again?" He pulled on Thom's tie and kissed him hard on the mouth. Thom groaned and struggled against him, trying to push Caleb away without hurting him. Frustrated, Caleb removed his bruising lips from Thom's and when their eyes met, for the first time, Thom felt fear in the pit of his stomach. Caleb's eyes turned to two igneous coals that seared into Thom's skin. His long and elegant fingers seemed like vicious talons as they snarled tightly in Thom's shirt. One hand slowly loosed its grip and slid down Thom's torso.

"Caleb, stop!" Thom shouted, forcefully pushing the hand away.

"What?" Caleb hissed, his eyes flaring up, "You don't even want to fuck me anymore? You don't have to love me, Thom. Just think about him." Caleb freed his wrist from Thom's grasp and moved it between their bodies, roughly stroking at Thom's crotch through his suit pants. "Just close your eyes, and I can be anyone you want me to be. You want Julian? Well, how does your boyfriend's hand feel?"

"STOP!"

Caleb toppled backward, sprawling over the coffee table and landing with a loud thunk on the floor. Thom looked on, stunned, as he rubbed the numb tingling from his palm. He hadn't meant to hit Caleb, but there was no other way to stop him.

Silence rang through the room once more, broken only by the heavy breath forcing its way out of the lungs of both men. After what seemed like ages, Thom finally spoke up. "Caleb?" he questioned softly to the damaged young man's crumpled form. "I'm...."

"No," Caleb croaked, his words thick with emotion as he turned his face away from Thom. "I'm sorry..... God.... I'm such an idiot..." He struggled to put his arms beneath him and wobbled onto his two feet. "I'm going. Please don't try to call me. If you could ever forgive me, meet me in a year." As he spoke, tears were evident on his voice, sniffling as he walked toward the door. "But I'm the monster, Thom. You deserve better."

Caleb's slender limbs looked as if they were made of lead as he lifted a heavy hand to the doorknob. The squeaking of the door as he opened it to leave was the only sound that filled the room. Thus, the sudden touch of Thom's warm hand on his shoulder startled him so terribly as he stepped out over the threshold. Caleb looked back over his shoulder–the last glance he could steal of his beloved Thom.

His face looked just as it had in his dreams: such flawless beauty, sullied and scarred by misery and woe. Tears streamed down Thom's face as he clung tightly to Caleb's thin shoulder.

"Caleb....." Thom sputtered, his brows knitting tightly as he choked through his tears, "Caleb, I....."

"No."

Caleb roughly shook his shoulders, freeing himself from Thom's desperate grasp. Then he ran. His feet turned to absolute blurs as he sprinted down the hall and the several flights of stairs to the lobby. He fled, hurtling down block after city block, nearly going blind as the wind stung his watering eyes. It was cowardly, but he hadn't ever called himself brave. It was easier to run.

To flee from Thom was to flee from pain. But what if that meant leaving love behind?

Caleb ran until his legs went numb, the impact of the pavement rattling up to his teeth. Finally spent, his limbs gave out, the rough concrete tearing holes in his denims and bloodying his knees and palms.

He buried his still crying eyes in his hands, the scalding tears stinging his abraded palms and diluting the thick blood oozing from the wounds. "Please forgive me," he wept to himself.

"One year...."