Chapter 1
"I've been offered to go on an expedition to Egypt," Steven, sitting comfortably on the couch, looked up from the book he was reading.
Outside the window it was raining so hard that it was a pity to let the dog out.
Marc froze for a second, his brain empty, trying to comprehend what the man had said. Sitting next to Steven on, scrolling through the news on his phone, he turned his head to him, finally asking.
"What?" - It sounded dry, and he cleared his throat.
At that moment, the other man's eyes were not looking at him at all, but somewhere far away, as if not wanting to meet his gase.
"And I agreed."
The drops hit the window glass loudly, creating a strange atmosphere. Jake stood next to it, smoking a second cigarette, staring at the darkness outside the window.
From the corner of his eye, Marc could see him turn his head slightly to listen.
He always did, he stood there and listened without saying anything. It seemed as if Jake didn't hear or see anyone or anything around him, but in fact he knew even more than Marc.
"That's... great Steven, I know that's what you've always wanted and... I'm very happy for you" - He cursed internally at how insecure he sounded. Because he didn't really know how to feel. But he knew that Steven needed this.
"Thanks Marc" - A gentle smile touched Steven's face and he finally looked at him.
"So...when are you leaving?"
"Next Monday."
There was a soft laugh at the window.
Marc thought it was too soon.
"Steven needs it, you shouldn't stop him."
"For how long..."
"Just two months," Steven didn't let him finish, as if trying to reassure Marc that it was nothing. But it was a long time.
"We'll miss you..."
The arms in his sweater move to wrap around his torso and shoulder in a tight hug, which he returns immediately. He presses in, trying to remember the warmth, the steady breaths against his ear. Above his chest, he feels a heartbeat. It's fast, almost rabbit-like.
Marc squeezes him a little tighter. Steven has nothing to be afraid of. He needs to know that.
Behind him, he heard the sound of a door closing.
They escorted him to the airport. Before disappearing into the crowd of people and suitcases, Steven asked Marc not to kill each other in his absence.
"You could stay and control it," he wanted to say.
"I'm not promising anything, but if he starts first, I'll have to fight back. And he will start first." He said instead, and received a nod of approval.
With a gentle and pleading grip, Steven tilted Jake, who was standing next to him, toward him and whispered something in his ear.
Jake's eyes froze a little, expressing some emotion, and he snapped back at the furrowed brow. Finally, he pressed his lips delicately against the other man's cheek, his unshaven face breaking out in an unpleasant rash later on the other man's skin, but Steven didn't seem to mind.
Marc couldn't care less how much his chest was filled with longing, trying his best not to pull Steven away from the bags and beg him to stay.
"Text me when you get there," he says with a wry smile. When they hug, he holds Steven a little tighter. As he pulls away, he avoids his gaze because he knows he won't be able to stand it.
In the moment, Steven was gone. And Marc felt that a part of his soul left with him. Which is actually true after they were divided into three separate people, along with their bodies, their spirits were also divided....
Jake watched him silently as usual. He was not making the situation any easier with his silence. The tension was palpable in the air. Just like that, Steven was gone, and with him the barrier that somehow separated them was too.
Now they were presented to each other without any extenuating circumstances. Marc felt a throbbing in his head and behind his eyes.
They do not walk side by side Marc walks slightly behind. Jake doesn't look at him.
"Watch where you're going" - he almost knocks the lady down, because he's looking only at his feet, wandering off in thought.
"Excuse me" - He looks around when he notices that the figure in the hat has disappeared. He left without it. Marc sighed in exasperation, and decided not to rush out of the warmth of the hall. In any case, his personal transportation must have already left. There was no point in rushing.
A sign that said "hot coffee" caught his eye, and he headed there. It was 8 a.m. and he urgently needed his caffeine fix, which he hadn't had time to drink because he was too afraid of keeping Steven waiting. ("Marc please, eat something we have two hours before the flight)
He said hello to the barista and said goodbye to the 5 bucks that a small glass of Americano without sugar cost. The thought that this was an emergency eased the weight on his heart a little. It didn't help his wallet tho.
There was not much to see on the bare walls of the airport, so he took a brochure and slowly sipped his most delicious Americano in his life.
It's cold to walk out of the station and onto the frosty street, and Marc shuffles his feet to warm up. He is waiting for a taxi to get home. Thinking about the price of a taxi, he thinks that today can be considered a holiday.
But he didn't decide that he would walk today.
No, no.
Well, he will be rewarded for it.
While he was plotting his revenge in his head, a car pulls up to the curb. Marc breathes a sigh of relief as he opens the back door and gets in.
"The weather is perfect for the holidays, right?" - He smiles as he feels the heat and his limbs thaw from the street frost. It's very warm and cozy in here.
"Where have you been?" - The driver's tone is suddenly angry. And justo as suddenly Marc's mood snaps back.
"No, where the hell have you been?"
Jake's head turns and the red eye stares right back at him.
His face is calm, but his mouth is black.
"Are you kidding me? I've been waiting for you for 30 minutes! It's been 45 minutes and 30 seconds," he bites, checking the time on the machine's display.
"Waited? I thought you went home!" Marc doesn't understand.
"Why would I go without you?" The mexican eyebrows fly up, and his eyes say something like "that's the biggest bullshit my ears have ever heard."
"Why else would you have run ahead without waiting for me?" This treacherous half-whimper cuts through his voice.
"To warm up the car! I went ahead to bring it closer to the entrance because I took it to the parking lot before!" Jake says it as if it were the most obvious thing, and Marc is a little kid.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I thought it was obvious?"
"Why would it be obvious?"
"Because it is, and you forgot and decided to be mad at me."
"I didn't forget anything."
"You did."
"I- agh" - Marc resisted the urge to slam his knees and instead folded his arms across his chest. It was like playing table tennis.
He loved tennis, and if he had a racket right now, he would have hit Jake right in that ruby eye.
To be honest, yes, it was childish. And yes, he was a little offended that Jake didn't wait for him and so he thought that he had forgotten about him or something. But if you look at it again, how was Marc supposed to know that Jake had left to bring the car around?
"Next time, tell me where you're going."
"Next time, ask me where I'm going."
Marc let out a very loud breath, and his eyes were glued to the landscape outside the window.
Far away a picture pops up in his head of Steven's face with glasses on his nose and a finger up, "communication is key"
He doesn't like it. He doesn't like to admit that he's wrong. It makes his head hurt and his chest tighten. But if you want to change something, start with yourself. He takes a deep breath.
"Okay" - he answers through his teeth.
God, why is this so hard? This devil is probably as happy as a cat that has been fed a mountain of food and is about to burst.
"Okay" - he says in response. In the rearview mirror, the corners of Jake's mouth were slightly up. Marc couldn't help but grunt to himself. Jake doesn't need to know that Marc isn't offended anymore.