"I didn't intend to kiss you." steelatom
When Ray walks into the lab that morning, Nate is already there. Usually, Ray would not be too happy about someone invading his workspace, mostly because he’s learned the hard way that most people can’t be trusted around sensitive equipment – ‘the hard way’ being the course he has been roped into teaching this semester. But Nate is just as particular about his artifacts as Ray is about machinery, so there’s no reason to worry.
At least, no reason of the mechanical kind: when Ray looks closer, Nate is shifting on his feet nervously, hands stuck in the pockets of his jacket and obviously fiddling with something, maybe a loose thread or a coin. When he spots Ray, he attempts a smile, but it’s a far cry from his usual warm one. Ray knows, because that smile, open and happy, always makes Ray’s stomach flutter in that weird but pleasant way. This one just makes his insides tighten with the expectation of the worst.
“Hey, buddy,” he says tentatively, but he knows what’s going to come out of Nate’s mouth even before the other TA even tries. Ray’s been here before, falling hard back to reality after having floated on cloud nine for a while, and that’s okay, he’ll get over it, but he can’t say he’s happy about the turn of events. Not after last night, when he really thought they had something good going, something real.
But here they are, Nate unable to meet his eyes and fidgeting nervously even as he coughs and probably tries to find words that will soften the blow.
“I… um. Hey. I just wanted to… about last night.”
Ah, here it comes; Ray pulls out his Neutral Smile and leans against a workbench, wishing he were brave enough, or maybe crazy enough, to just stalk up to Nate and shut him up with a passionate kiss. But Ray’s not that guy: he’s been rejected way too many times to know how it goes. He’ll plead and try to talk it out, and in the end, Nate will walk away to someone else, someone better, someone not Ray.
But he doesn’t say any of that out loud – Nate obviously needs to get this off his chest, and maybe, if Ray plays his cards right, he’ll still have someone to talk to over lunch, after the awkwardness and hurt passes.
“So, the punch was pretty strong,” Nate mumbles, and Ray knows that: he’s pretty sure it was spiked by one of the Physical Ed people, who kept smirking at everyone pouring themselves a cup. Ray himself had the foresight to stick to one serving only, but Nate… well. Nate did not. It’s a wonder he doesn’t look more hungover, the way he kept swaying and singing made-up lyrics to the Star Wars theme through the second half of the faculty party.
Ray really should’ve known better than to let it happen, mistletoe or not.
Nate takes another deep breath and visibly braces himself, pulling his hands out of his pockets and clenching them into loose fists at his sides, like he’s steeling for a punch. But he doesn’t avoid Ray’s eyes any longer and something uncurls and stretches in Ray’s chest, fond and aching, at the sight of his friend, meeting every battle head-on, be it with the department heads or the results of his own misguided, drunken affection.
“Look, I didn’t intend to kiss you. I’m really sorry. I don’t want things to be awkward between us, and I really don’t want you to stop talking to me, because you’re probably the only sane person in this hellhole and I don’t want to lose you over this. I know you’re straight, and I, uh, well I thought until recently that I was straight too, but I’m not going to, like, you know. Um. I mean. I know I screwed up, but can you just forget it? It doesn’t have to be… a thing. A problem. We’ll pretend it never happened, I’ll never do that again and you won’t avoid me for the rest of our lives, okay?”
Ray’s heart, which has been steadily cracking since Nate started speaking again, stops somewhere in the middle of that speech. It takes a while for every word to register because Ray’s brain short-circuited around the ‘you’re straight’ part, but when his cognitive functions successfully reboot, he still doesn’t know what to say.
Did Nate just… wait.
“Wait,” Ray says out loud, because that’s as far as he gets before his mind starts whirring in twenty directions at once. “You- so you didn’t come to tell me it was a mistake?”
Nate blinks at him.
“Dude, I just told you it was a mistake.”
Ray shakes his head, pushes away from the workbench and takes a step closer. Then another. Nate doesn’t try to put any more distance between them. Ray’s heart thumps wildly against his ribs, until it almost hurts.
“Yeah, but you made it sound like it was my mistake, not yours.”
“Wow, did I? I don’t want to put the blame on you, buddy, seriously, I’m fully aware it was my mistake, you didn’t- you didn’t do anything wrong, I shouldn’t have trusted that punch-“
“No, wait, wait, you said I was straight, and that you don’t want to- you were apologizing, not letting me down.”
“Of course it was an apology. Weren’t you listening? What do you mean, not letting you-“
That’s when the implication seems to sink into Nate’s hangover-fuzzed brain and his eyes grow to saucer-size. Ray can see color rising in his cheeks, but Nate still doesn’t look away, even as his hands curl and uncurl at his sides, as if he’s not sure what to do.
“So. Uh. You’re… you didn’t mind?”
Ray takes the final few steps forward, smiling.
“I really didn’t. And for the record, I thought you were straight too.”
Nate lets out a bark of a laugh and rubs a hand over his hair, messy today, like he didn’t take the time to look in the mirror in the morning. In a way it’s strangely flattering; Ray never had someone skip their morning routine just because they needed to see him. It’s a heady feeling, and Ray knows he could get used to it.
“How about we test that theory, like proper scientists?” he suggests, and it’s one of his smoother lines, so Nate better appreciate it.
Nate, however, scrunches up his nose and grimaces:
“Buddy, I’d love to, believe me, but… I kind of didn’t brush my teeth in the morning. I mean, I really didn’t expect this to go this well for me.”
The tension coiling in Ray’s stomach unwinds and releases a chuckle in its wake; somehow, even with horrible breath and messy hair, Nate feels right, like someone Ray’s been waiting for all his life. Someone who would be just as awkward as him, someone with whom Ray could just be himself, no matter what.
“I think I have a spare toothbrush somewhere around here,” he smiles, and Nate chuckles at that.
“Of course you do. Always the Eagle Scout, huh?”
“Be prepared,” Ray jokes and turns towards his table to rummage through the contents of his emergency kit until he finds what he’s looking for. “Ah. I might’ve used it before, you okay with that?”
Nate leans over his shoulder and plucks the toothbrush out of his hand; he does smell a bit stale, like sweat and alcohol and just a tiny bit of the cologne he wore yesterday, but Ray still feels himself gravitating towards Nate’s warmth, especially when the man smiles and gives him a playful look:
“It’s a big step, sharing a toothbrush.”
Ray can’t hold back an undignified snort of laughter. “Bigger than you drunkenly serenading my space buns?”
“That was about Leia’s hair and you know it!” Nate shrieks and pulls back, face red but eyes sparkling. As he disappears out the door on his way to the bathroom, Ray can hear his shout:
“But your space buns are pretty epic too!”