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[vitusxaydin]

Vitus was about to hit the younger man with a hearty serving of confusion, coupled with a Do I know you? But then came the explanation. His eyes slid sideways to find the tinder date in question, and a glint of understanding came over him. With a huff and a dramatic flourish, Vitus put on his best accusatory tone and said, "That's it? It's so nice seeing you? That's all you have to say to me?" And then, addressing the walking red flag: "Hey, if you're on a date with this guy, don't waste your fucking time. He's married, and his partner's insane and will hunt you down if he catches you cheating together. But I bet he didn't tell you that."

˙ ˖ ✶ Vitus (@vitusxaydin)

"Omg hi, it's so nice seeing you again, it's been so long." Declan said to the stranger approaching him trying to signal at him with his eyes that he was trying to get rid of the person a little away from him. "Listen, if you pretend to know me I'll literally cook you meals for 20 years, I just need to get out of this terrible tinder date, the guy turned out to be a total red flag, so please."

[vitusxaydin]

Definitely warmer months. If I ever settle down for good, it'll be somewhere tropical or hot. I loved living out in California for that reason. But the cold months do have their perks, if you ignore the snow and the seasonal depression. Cozy nights in by the fire. Roasting s'mores with people. Capping the night with a good glass of whiskey, one of those drinks that makes your chest all warm. If nothing else, we have that, huh?

Is it just me or is anyone else not ready for Creek Fest? Not that I don't enjoy it because I do, but it just means that the colder months are coming and I'm not the biggest fan of the cold. And sure, there's hot apple cider and PSLs and whatever else that comes out this time of year, but that's not enough to make me a fan of the fall and winter months. What about you? Are you more of a warmer months type of person? Or do you love the colder months?

[vitusxaydin]

"Well, to start, I'm in complete agreement with you about Armand and Lestat. Especially Lestat. I know the whole point is that he's awful and everything, but if you ignore all that, he must be good in bed. Guy's all about hedonism." A contemplative hum, as he considered the main character next. "But I think Louis would be a little higher on my list than he is on yours. I feel like he'd be really soft and sweet. A sensual experience, more than anything else. And I am a sucker for those," Vitus admitted, hands held up in faux surrender, but the angle of his smile gave him away. He nodded at the copy of something that was in Jules's hand; he couldn't quite make out what it was amid all his endearing, enthusiastic arm-waves. "What do you have there? Don't tell me it's the Interview movie from twenty years ago. The show they're making now is way better."

"So Armand is great, y'know? I'd definitely fool around with him, 'cause he was turned so young and he's still kind of got all that young person energy, right? But I feel like he'd be selfish about it, too. I mean, sure, he's hella passionate, but he wants things to fit into the vision he has for them. So yeah, sex might be great once or twice, and he's sexy as fuck, but you know who I'd really be interested in hooking up with? Lestat. He's fucking beautiful, he's passionate as hell, and I bet you anything he's totally down to try anything." Jules was rambling, hands waving around as he spoke, even though a battered copy of Queen of the Damned was clutched in one of them. Nobody had asked, of course, but that didn't mean Jules wasn't going to share his opinion anyway, as vulgar as it might be. "Louis, though? Absolutely fucking not. Fuck that pansy-ass. I wouldn't fuck him if he were the last vampire on earth," then he hesitated, mulling it over. "Well, okay, I'd fuck him. But only once. I just feel like he'd make some beautiful sounds, y'know? I just get that vibe from him." Finally he seemed to finish, looking at the individual sitting across from him. "What about you?"

[vitusxaydin]

on the romance of cannibalism by silas denver melvin (@sweatermuppet)

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[vitusxaydin]

Vitus was still angled toward her, his head cushioned on the curve where his right bicep met his elbow. He took another deep swig from the flask and then set it down between them to free his hand. Impossible, to not reach back to Marlow when she reached for him first. The last time she'd taken the initiative in touching him had been on his couch, as he confessed all he'd been through with Deacon. She had held his hands to her chest, as if trying to steady him with the rhythm of her heart. That last time had come with a shockwave of guilt and panic. Now, without the weight of that confession hanging over them, Vitus could lay his palm over hers, twine their fingers together, and finally exhale.

"You didn't let anyone down. You didn't let me down," he reassured, smoothing his thumb over the side of her hand. "I will. Promise. And the same goes for you, y'know. If anything I ever do or say makes you feel unsafe." From the start, he'd coveted safety with her. Hearing the proof that she reciprocated that intention warmed him in a way that had nothing to do with the evening sun, now set past the horizon.

The night sky opened above them. Vitus had no doubt that it was littered with stars, but he didn't look just yet. Didn't count them, or point out the ones that shot across the sky like embers falling down to earth. He stayed in place, eyes on her, and smiled. "I wouldn't have been a good interview back then. Wasn't in the right headspace for it." He'd been out in Los Angeles, high as a kite, sinking into a dead-end relationship, losing his mind. No way he would've answered any of Marlow's questions without the inflated, agitated ego that comes with a coke problem. "Now, though, I'd tell you... that even if the system is fucked up, sex work saved my life. And I probably wouldn't be here right now, with you on this beach, if I hadn't gotten into it when I was younger."

Again, it felt like Vitus was slowly, agonizingly, parting his ribs so Marlow could peer inside. It was near enough to that night on his couch that a flash of anxiety spiked against her chest. But they were on the beach, not in his townhouse, and it was August not May, and the stars were coming out in full force now.

Reaching across the small distance between them, Marlow let her hand unfurl over the blanket, palm up. His to take, if he wanted. "I'm sorry. That people treated you that way. Still do." It felt impossible that anyone could look at Vitus, at how good he was, and only see him for one small part of all that he was. But she shouldn't be surprised, not anymore, at the capacity of people to take advantage of others. That was, more or less, a crux of the very series they were discussing.

Marlow shook her head at his soft apology. "It wasn't about me. I never minded for me I just--" It felt stupid to admit, or naive maybe. Looking back, Marlow could see her hope that the series might do something for what it was, childlike optimism. "I felt like I let them down." Turning, she met his eyes in the quickly dimming light. "I'm glad you feel safer though. And if I ever do anything to...change that, you can always let me know." Just because she knew a little more than the average person, didn't mean Marlow thought she knew everything. And so she was more than willing to be corrected.

"I would have liked to interview you." It was a little nonsensical, given their timelines, but what she meant was, "I would be interested to hear what you have to say about it all."

[vitusxaydin]

"God, I know, I'm just so gorgeous all the time," Vitus says, letting out a loose sigh like the subject of his beauty is as old as time itself. It might be a loaded evening, but he'll be damned if he doesn't get at least a few quips in while they're at it. Sobering, he adds, "Only one shirt—a dark blue one. But I kind of... swapped it back and forth and back and forth, over and over again, till I decided." He wonders, idly, how much time Tommy spent on his own get-up. With a soft smile, he nods at Tommy's shirt in equal appreciation. "Aside from the gala, I don't think I've ever seen you in an outfit like that. It looks good on you."

"It's not that I was waiting for you to move faster. It's just—" Anxiety clenches a fist around Vitus's throat. He swallows and rubs his jaw, debates how much to say. But the truth is already sitting there, poised and ready, on the base of his tongue. He can't go on this date, can't let Tommy embark on this personal mission, without filling him in on the reasons why they ended up in the hall outside yesterday in the first place. Tangled in one of the most baffling miscommunications they've ever had together.

"I know how you feel about me. I know how much you like me." Vitus drops his eyes to his hands while he talks, if only because he's afraid of how Tommy's face might twist as he adds, "But, Tommy, I feel like I don't know you, most days. It feels like you only really let me see you when we're drunk or in bed together. And that—" It isn't enough cover, to just stare down at his hands. Vitus lifts one to his face and worries over his forehead, half-hiding. "Connecting, physically—it's nice. I like doing that with you. But if it's only that, it makes it hard for me to... makes me feel like... like I'm just an escort. Providing a service to a man who needs it." And then, in a rush, stumbling over panic: "I'm sorry. I don't mean to—I know all of this hasn't come easy to you and you're trying your best. I know that. I just—it felt like lying, to keep that to myself."

“You could have thrown on an old shirt and sweats and I’d still think you look beautiful… but I admit, hearing you spent an hour dressing up for me…” he trails off as he openly admires again, leaving a lingering air of possessiveness. It doesn’t matter that yesterday Vitus had lined his eyes for another man, because today he did it for Tommy. He took an hour picking things for Tommy to see, to admire, to feel good about around him. “How many shirts did you swap?” he playfully asks, having tossed several of his own in his process of getting ready. Rue had been his judge, giving him useless advice on which colour Vitus might like in the form of a head tilt or confused brow. She didn’t quite get her fathers questions, but Tommy found the answers he needed, eventually landing on his current outfit.

“I admit… when you said you’d been waiting on me… it panicked me a bit,” Tommy starts slowly, the memory flooding back into his mind.His long lashes fan against his cheek as he looks down, turning a ring on one of his pointer fingers, reminding himself that he didn’t need to start panicking again. He just needed to talk.  “It’s not that I want to keep you waiting… or that I even realised you had been for so long before… It’s just I’ve been stuck in one place for a very long time… not just about men but… about caring for anyone new. So with the steps I do take I’m processing it before the next… and having sex with you wasn’t the final step it just was… I was happy. The thing that… that did motivate me, that isn’t stupid or something I can just disregard? You couldn’t answer that you knew how I felt about you…. Because I’ve never told you. I thought you knew from how I acted… but that isn’t how it works… and that upset me knowing you don’t know… so tonight I want to fix that.”

[vitusxaydin]

Vitus wagged his brows at Garrick, about to fire off a quip about how he'd live to regret opening the floor for questions like that. But before he could ask anything else about Garrick—his family, those children's books upstairs, the reasons why he moved—Garrick went first. "Ah, I see. You're only interested in me for my skills behind the bar. It's so hard," Vitus faux-lamented, tucking his curls back behind his ears, "being so good at what I do."

A hearty laugh and a sip of bourbon later, and Vitus shook his head, answered seriously: "I've been tending a bar on and off for the last... almost twenty years, now. I've bumped around the states a bit and usually kept up with it wherever I landed—North Carolina, Colorado, now here. Only place I didn't get around to it was Los Angeles. Life out there got a bit too..." He pursed his lips, considered which adjective he might use. Hectic. Overwhelming. Dangerous. "Busy," he settled on, "to keep up with it."

They moved together in tandem. Flitting around Garrick's kitchen island, passing along spices and utensils, throwing back more wine behind easy laughter. To watch Vitus cook was as mesmerizing as watching him throw together drinks at the club—his talent for both was equally enjoyable and appreciated. The awkward tiptoeing around surface level details slowly started to break down around them. Helped by new details Vitus shared with him, leveling them out onto smoother ground. Both dancing around how far they should pull their curtains back.

The wooden chair beneath Garrick creaked with his weight, adjusting his legs to cross one over the other, back pressing into the cushion. He rested his glass of whiskey on the arm of his seat, eyes combing over Vitus's face. Soft light spilled into his dark curls and sloped along the stubble on his cheek from above him. Gaze gentle. Open. Honest. Garrick breathed out a low chuckle. "You're more than welcome to be curious and ask me, regardless of you sitting on my porch. But I'll even the field—the night we met, you mentioned that you used to bartend in New York. Did you bartend everywhere else you lived or was that something you picked up in Manhattan and you brought with you here? Because your taste in liquor is extremely impressive."

[vitusxaydin]

Wait, really? But Bridgerton is one of the best shows on Netflix. I'm kind of offended about this. Though I get why people don't want to couple up and do the Barbie/Ken thing, considering what the message from that movie was. I just thought it could be fun aesthetically—and because I'm a sucker for all the outfits they put Margot and Ryan in. Maybe you can go for one of the blue ensembles she wore in that movie instead, if pink isn't your jam.

I found out that people moved on Bridgerton already? Not gonna lie, that kind of broke my heart. Thought we were still in the, “My heart calls your name” phase, but guess not. I don’t! That’s another thing that people are surprisingly not going crazy about. Not sure if I was the odd man out, so I’m relieved that at least you’re reacting this way! Not sure yet. Ken would be nice, but Barbie is always a good option. But I can never pull off an all pink look. 

[vitusxaydin]

Vitus dropped onto the sand beside her and stretched his legs out, his drink wedged in place at his side. The scent of weed and tobacco drifted to him on the tail end of Shoshanna's exhale. Breathing deep, he accepted the blunt from her, eager for the mixture to cloud his head. "Always." He took a drag before he answered in full. "First of all—it's officially been one year since I moved. And I'm planning on spending at least one more here, which is more than I've made it in other places." Half a quip and half a cynical comment, that. "And I have a bunch of friends flying in for my birthday in a few weeks. Including Dani." And then, soft smile on his face, he passed the blunt back and added, "You should swing by while she's here. She remembers meeting you, y'know."

Shosh pulled out of the hug, retrieving her beach tote and coming back with her tin container full of smoking supplies. She waved it in the air before gesturing for Vi to pick a spot to sit. It wasn’t all that often that she smoked, but recently, she preferred it to drinking. Weed calmed her down and helped her anxiety much more than alcohol these days, predictably. Once he picked a spot, Shosh plopped to the ground and dug her toes into the sand before pulling out a blunt and lighting up. “So,” she said, taking a drag and passing it to him, “any juicy life updates for your favorite girl?”

[vitusxaydin]

"Ah, yeah, basketball was my thing when I was growing up. There was this outdoor court that my friends and I used to go to when we were kids. I fell out of it when I got older, between work and life and school. Took up running instead. But I'm no track star," he chuckled, reminiscing about the glory days of his childhood—stomping back and forth across a paved court, littered with skinned knees and loose laughter. "What about you? Did you get into anything else, other than football?"

“It really isn’t. You get whacked by the ball more times than you think,” Vince said. “And I thought football was rough,” he shook his head with a smile. “Yeah? Well, that’s cool, though. Beach volleyball is a lot of fun anyway. It’s one of those sports to look forward to… kind of like water balloon fights, you know? Or for the winter… skiing.” Maybe it wasn’t the best comparison but it was the first thing that came to mind. “Yeah, the jackets were pretty cool. Honestly, they’re more of a status symbol… but they just look cool. Do you have a favorite sport to play, then?”

[vitusxaydin]

Vitus wasn't much of a reader. In truth, he mostly read books for fun—lighthearted stories full of romance and drama and spice. He tended to keep one on his nightstand for a quick read before bed, or those endless nights where he couldn't sleep, and time stretched out before him until it became menacing. And when he ran out of pages to turn over, he ended up here, at Bookends, combing through the shelves for his next distraction. (And pestering the employees.)

He was there, sheltered between the manmade walls of two bookshelves with his nose buried in a hardcover, when he heard a murmur somewhere behind him. A woman's voice, just loud enough for him to catch each word at its boundary. They were the only two people in the aisle, and they were staring at complete opposite sections: Vitus, wholly consumed by romance, and her, angled away to eye the mystery section. At her mutter, he couldn't help but let out a low snort. "I wish I could help you out. Really, I do. But train murders and villains who eat people aren't really my thing." With a lopsided, sheepish smile on his face, he held up his own selection—a new release called The Love Plot by Samantha Young. "Fake dating in a romantic comedy, though, I can pitch. I don't suppose I can sell you on switching genres, huh?"

A feeling of peace washed over Alma as soon as the scent of books wafted over her, the familiar tinkle of the bell as she stepped into Bookends causing an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. She hadn't stepped foot in this shop in maybe ten years but that didn't matter, her and this shop were old friends. She'd spent countless hours here in her youth, it had felt like her only safe space back then, so it wasn't all that surprising that when the nurses suggested she take a break from the Hospital and Liam suggested she take some time for herself that she'd ended up at the book store.

The womans green eyes scanned the shelves greedily, taking in all the shop had to offer, before her eyes inevitably landed on a table set up in the center of the store the contents of which caused a small smile to appear on her tired face. The local authors table. Every bookshop in every town in all the world seem to have one but selfishly this one seemed especially important to Alma, her first poetry collection sat propped up among a selection of other books written by other Merrock natives. Alma felt a swell of pride, it wasn't the first time she'd seen her published work out and about but something about it being in her hometown made it more special than the times before...it also caused a flurry of conflicting emotions that were stronger than normal. The brunette dropped her gaze, the point of coming here had been to find relief from the onslaught of complex emotion not cause more of it, and made her way further into the shop.

Alma wandered further into the store, making her way to the 'Thriller/Mystery' section. Something to get lost in, something fast paced with twists and turns was just what she needed. She lifted a hand and plucked a book from the shelf and began reading the back 'small town girl returns home to help her estranged father-' Nope. She slid the book back in it's place and grabbed another 'woman returns home after years to find out her former hus-' Really? She returned that one to it's place as well. The universe had a penchant for irony that Alma did not at all appreciate. "Is there anything here that doesn't involve awful fathers and ex-husbands? Whatever happened to a good old murder on a train? Strangely charming cannibals? the classics" She mused softly to herself.

[vitusxaydin]

People had offered Vitus all kinds of stories over the years. People at his bar, downing the drinks they ordered to loosen their tongues. People at parties, with chipped nails and wild eyes and laughs that softened the blow of each dark detail. People at hotels and private bedrooms and vacation homes, who felt comfortable opening up to him because he was destined to disappear after the night ended. As Chandler started doling out details he'd never heard from him before, Vitus collected them, one at a time. He filed them away, deep inside his chest. They clattered as they landed there, clicking into place beside all the others.

The bartender on duty served their shots. Vitus reached for one as soon as the little glass slid his way. He had no idea what Chandler meant by fucked relationship, and he wasn't about to assume anything. With his eyes trained down on the amber liquid at his fingertips, he asked, "Are you worried about that? That she's trying to track you down?"

It was a relief to know Vitus would drink with him. Chandler was going to down those shots regardless, but doing so alone would have felt weird. Wrong. Too much like his dad. And he couldn't handle thinking about that on top of everything with Madison....Or with a woman who looked a lot like her from the back. He glanced down at the broken plastic cup between him and the other man, and nodded. At least that was one less thing to worry about, but he'd still need more caffeine to make up for the liquid that had absorbed into the pavement outside.

At the mention of an ex Chandler finally looked at his friend, although his eyes quickly trailed down and off to the side. "Yeah..." He said, focusing his gaze on the grey shoes across from his own black converse. "My last relationship was fucked, and...the blonde you pointed out - skinny, all black outfit, blonde hair...But she has no idea I'm here. She thinks I'm in LA...that's what my dad told her when she called them looking for me."

[vitusxaydin]

"Yeah. It did. It still does mean something," he said, not hesitating a moment.

"There are a lot of think pieces out there, but most of them are about the porn industry, since it's regulated. And a lot of sex workers get invited to talk about how it works and what kinds of clients they get, but that's usually for, like, clickbait Vice articles or whatever else. It's a lot harder to write articles like yours. About corruption and cops. Tackling the whole system." A system that had been stacked against the people who worked in the danger of its shadows.

Beneath the safety of Marlow's gaze and open conversation, Vitus finished letting go of the stopper he used to plug this part of his life. Into his expression poured a steady stream of gratitude and nostalgia, and mourning, most of all. "I've known people, everywhere I've moved, who never ask me about my work. It's taboo, so they don't want to know. Or, worse, they treat me like sex is the only thing I'm good for." He'd been objectified by partners more times than he could count. And he didn't mind it from a one-night stand; but it always cut deep, grated against that thing in his chest like steel on bare bone, to hear it from someone he cared about. With a soft, sad smile affixed to his mouth, he admitted, "Articles like this—they shine a light on people who are usually invisible. Makes me feel safer around you, just knowing you took the time to write these. I'm really sorry nobody has told you that sooner."

Marlow rested one hand flat over her belly, the other just above where her heart beat. As Vitus tapped around on her phone, she let herself breathe, mindful of the way her hands moved with each inhale and exhale. Seven years earlier, five years after his encounter with her baby brother, she and Vitus had circled each other. And all while he was within four-hundred square miles of her baby sister. Marlow didn't believe in fate, not for a second, but even she had to admit there was something to that.

What that something was, though, was anyone's guess.

There was a tenderness to Vitus's voice that Marlow almost couldn't bear. It reminded her of their discussion toward the end of the gala, when he told her that she was just being human and that was okay. Closing her eyes against it, Marlow explained, "The overall response from the general public...wasn't really positive." She hesitated to say more -- surely Vitus didn't need her repeating such sentiments about the industry and those who would defend it. "Another department handled the comment section at that outlet, and I didn't have a lot of social media back then, so the only feedback I really saw was from emails." And the only people who had emailed in positive responses were the sources she worked with, or the handful of people with "friends of friends of roommates" who worked in the industry.

Swallowing past an old burn of what felt like failure at the time, Marlow tilted her eyes to meet his in the fading of the day. "It meant something to all of you?" And then, narrowing the scope, "To you?"

[vitusxaydin]

"God, yes, I love those little bed and breakfasts. Small town inns are the heart and soul of every road trip I've ever taken. And diners—little hole-in-the-wall diners with locally sourced eggs and produce and stuff. I never got to experience things like that when I was younger, so I like to make time for it now." Not to mention, the people Vitus had met along the way. People whose whole lives started and ended in a single town. People who loved it that way, who had planted roots that dug so deep into the earth that they were able to grow entire family trees on top. Before he could wax too poetic about it, Vitus waved Rafael along with him and said, "Then let's go find something cold to drink. What's your poison?"

"Oh, it would absolutely be worth going broke," he nodded his head enthusiastially. "Stop at the little bed and breakfasts, the quaint cafes that you find, places that you don't otherwise see when you're traveling along highways." Granted, flying was always going to be faster and more efficient, but he had never been one to hesitate over the idea of getting into the Ferrari or the Jaguar and hitting the coast, taking a friend, a colleague, even his father along with him. "Luck, and being very good at what I did," Rafael was never one to beat around the bush when it came to the skill set he had developed both through the education his parents had paid a lot for him to get, but also the charsima he had held on to through the years, after all. "Oh, you're fine," he laughed, before nodding his head. "I am, actually, I believe any social function is better with a glass in hand."

[vitusxaydin]

"Relying on my immaculate taste to fluff out the menu, hm?" Unable to resist preening like a peacock, Vitus beamed and made a show of pressing his hand to his heart, as if he were receiving an award from the mayor herself. "I'm so honored." Mirroring Lavinia, he rested his elbows on the counter and tried for a more sober expression, if only to give her work the respect it deserved. He snatched a muffin and took care unwrapping it, then took a hearty bite, sure to gather any crumbs that tried to jump ship. A beat of silence hung between them as he let the flavors sink in, one slow chew at a time. And then his eyes lit up. "Oh, I love these. Seriously. But maybe—hm..." Another bite, a squint and a furrowed brow, and then: "Maybe go just a bit lighter on the lemon next time. I kind of want more raspberry to come through."

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑: open​ | @merrock 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: cobblestone cafe

❛ BE HONEST, OKAY? ❜ Elbows resting on the counter, Lavinia stared intently at her latest creation. Not quite so large in circumference as a silver dollar pancake yet bursting with reddish-pink splotches, two raspberry lemon poppyseed muffins sat on a plate. The brunette had spent the better part of the morning throwing together various ingredients before landing on the muffins, seeking a new flavor of the week. And now, to trial them on the first unsuspecting person to walk through the door. ❛ This is the test batch, they’ll be bigger if they go on the menu... but only if you don't think they taste like shit. ❜

[vitusxaydin]

“I know. That it’s special. I can see it on you.” Vitus’s voice had dropped off around the edges, smoothing into something gentler. Something that wouldn’t sting as it settled over Garrick. Between the new hunch in his shoulders and the unmentioned children’s books upstairs, his family was clearly a complicated box to open. Vitus didn’t want to mishandle it and risk causing him pain.

Following Garrick’s guidance into safer territory, he pulled up a smile and said, “Yeah. Probably best to save the heavy shit for later, once we have full stomachs.”

With a glass of wine in each of their hands and Garrick’s chic but homey kitchen sprawled out before them, Vitus got to work. He gave Garrick a few vegetables to cut but kept the onion for himself. Which meant, of course, that Vitus had to deliver Garrick a somber monologue like he was the lead in a Shakespearian tragedy, when he ended up crying over the little pieces he’d chopped. He’d selected a Moroccan eggplant and tomato stew. Just labor-intensive and delicious enough to leave them full and satisfied by the time they finished eating.

Vitus tossed out easy banter and more questions about Garrick’s siblings while they cooked and ate. He offered some details in return, too—the places he’d lived and the condo he was renting around the block and all the ways he’d settled into Merrock since moving last year. But it was only when they wandered out onto Garrick’s front porch, a fresh glass of whiskey in hand (Vitus had rummaged around Garrick’s stash, humming in approval, a few minutes earlier) that he said, “You know you can ask me anything, right? No holds barred. I’ll admit, I’m curious about the tall, dark, and handsome new guy in town. But I don’t want to make you feel like you’re being interviewed in your own home.”

It was hard to imagine a family dynamic that wasn’t his own. One with two parents under the same roof. With no siblings. To think that the twins almost didn’t make it through the stress his mother experienced during that pregnancy was hard enough. Garrick pushed through the crisp memory to throw Vitus another soft smile. “It’s something very special to me. And them, too, even though some won’t always admit it.”

His eyes fell to his hands, fingers sliding along the stem of his glass now placed on the counter. Rings occasionally brushed the smooth finish of the base. The familiar heaviness that wove its way into his mouth persisted. In the slight downward pull of his lips and dark haze in his eyes. Nearly four decades old with childhood wounds still tender to the touch. Rough scars and knotted flesh under untainted skin. “Thank you, Vitus.” His voice a somber rumble in his throat.

Garrick straightened back up with a breath. Forcing himself out of the curled position he unintentionally slipped into. With another sip of his wine, he pushed the weight aside, to focus on his guest and their task for the evening. “Before we get too existential and intoxicated, how about we start preparing some food, yeah?”

[vitusxaydin]

Vitus's face twists down ever so subtly at Tommy's mention of hurting Marlow. He wants to ask, on instinct, what else has been happening between them. But that isn't his space to intrude upon, no matter how much he wishes them both healing. It never was. He lets his expression speak for itself, holds onto anything he might have said aloud.

Tommy goes on about denial and jealousy and sexuality, and for another beat, Vitus doesn't speak. He just soaks it all in. He's been latching onto small pieces of Tommy for months now, scrambling to figure out their exact shapes and contours so he might assemble a proper picture of the man sitting before him. This is the first time since the night Tommy confessed his attraction to Vitus that he's told him much of anything. Vitus gathers each new bit of information and files it away for safekeeping.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. I spent an hour getting ready, y'know. And it looks like you did too. I'd be a fool to squander that," Vitus says, trying to bring some levity back to their conversation, if only to ease the pressure that's clearly sitting over Tommy's chest. But his gentle tease clatters across the table and falls to the floor as he goes on, "I'd love to hear it—whatever you feel comfortable telling me. I just..." Vitus rubs at his mouth, his jaw, searching for the right words. At last he puffs his cheeks out in a sigh. "I'm... worried, I guess. That you're telling me all this because I made that stupid fucking comment yesterday, about waiting for you. I really wasn't trying to rush you or anything like that. So if you tell me anything else today, I want you to do it because you feel ready to. Not because you feel like you have to."

It's a strange sensation to be sat on a chair but feel like you're on the edge of it. Tommy had just poured out more of his thoughts and emotions in just a few minutes than he had in months, and he had no idea how it landed with the man across from him. Was it too much now? Was it the wrong time? Tommy always shut himself down when it got to this part, leaving him out of practice and relying all too much on a desire to do better. Vitus' delay in response leaves Tommy fidgetting with one of the rings on his finger, around and around it spins. At first he thinks it's a bad sign that Vitus has to 'take it all in', but if the roles had been reversed he would have been struggling just as much, if not more. Tommy waits, scanning Vitus' features for hints as to what they're thinking, feeling, needing, all of it and so much more. He is pretty sure he's surprised Vitus, which was both what Tommy wanted and didn't. Tommy didn't want Vitus to be surprised that he cared, he wished Vitus knew already, but if it took stepping up like this to start showing it then he wanted that to surprise Vitus, to be swept up in it, to enjoy knowing someone did.

"I didn't want you to know. I didn't want anyone to know." It had been easier to ignore back then, the less time they'd spent together the easier the days between were. "It's not a day I'm proud of. I don't think I was doing Marlow any justice either, and I don't think I have done her any in a while." The pain he'd given her on the weekend is not forgotten, far from it. Somehow he was going to find a way to open up to her too, but this time he had to follow her lead and give her the space she needed until she had some for him.

Tommy mirrors Vitus, resting forward on the table as if the pair had magnets pulling them close once again. "What if I like it all? You'll just have to keep going... think you can meet the challenge?" he returns in a soft voice, his smile lazy, easing some of his nerves at its appearance. "If it helps... I do like women. So you were only half wrong.... and I'm just really good at denial. It's this thing my therapist loves to point out," his nose scrunches up as he talks about the situation as if it was a cute little trait of his. "Baby, I was looking at you long before you took me home from the bar. By that point I was just so jealous everyone else could hit on you yet I felt like I couldn't talk without accidentally spilling all my secrets. Kind of like what I'm doing now," a bit of irony mixed with a soft laugh. "Do you want to get out of here? I have a few other stories I can tell you along the way... you know, if you still want to go on our date?"