(no subject)
II.
Interlude: In which they settle down
They just sort of squish their lives together after that, alternating between spending time in Jesse’s apartment and Andrew’s.
Jesse’s apartment is larger and has, like, working indoor heating and pipes that don’t screech loudly at Andrew, but he also has a roommate who is somehow not at all fond of Andrew. Andrew would rather have to deal with the pipes.
“I don’t know what his problem is,” Andrew hisses at Jesse after the fifth time Justin’s knocked on the door to Jesse’s bedroom, which would be fine except that Andrew’s got his pants down to his knees and Jesse licking up his cock.
Jesse just shrugs and says, “He’s overprotective,” and gets back to lavishing Andrew with attention. Andrew has no proper means of revenge so he just moans really loud when Jesse starts properly sucking him off with long, smooth pulls of his mouth. (He doesn’t really need to force himself to be louder; Jesse’s oral fixation translates into amazing blowjobs, but it makes him feel vindicated to be noisy.)
Leaving Jesse’s apartment always feels too much like taking the walk of shame, because Justin’s usually sitting on the couch or staring at him from the kitchen. Andrew makes sure to kiss Jesse properly when he leaves, squeezing Jesse’s ass for good measure.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to,” Jesse says, but he lets himself be groped anyway.
“He’s harmless, really,” Jesse tells Justin after Andrew’s left.
“Yeah, he’s fucking Bambi,” Justin drawls.
“Seriously, Justin, lay off him,” Jesse says.
Justin just smirks.
--
Andrew’s apartment, on the other hand, is smaller and messier, and Jesse has yet to learn how to navigate it without knocking over a pile of Andrew’s secondhand books.
(“Three copies of T.S. Eliot’s Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats? Really, Andrew?
“Jesse Adam Eisenberg, are you trying to tell me that it isn’t your dream to own a cat menagerie and name them after all the cats in that book?”
“You over-exaggerate my fondness for cats,” Jesse says wryly.)
But Andrew owns a TV that they can pretend to watch when they cuddle on the sofa, and Jesse is sort of in love with his balcony.
There’s also, of course, the added benefit of privacy, which they take advantage of by fucking on the couch and on the floor and, yes, on the balcony on hot, stuffy nights.
Somehow, they make it work.
--
[September 21, 2005. Jesse is 22, Andrew is 27]
Andrew:
The first time Andrew stays over at Jesse’s place, he’s woken up in the morning by Attila sitting on his face. Attila is the only other tenant in the Eisenberg-Bartha residence and is apparently just as displeased as Justin that Andrew is around Jesse so much. The cat makes this clear by squeezing into the space between Andrew and Jesse on the bed, and Jesse, the traitor, rolls around to hug Attila to his chest.
Andrew pouts and slides out of bed to leave them to their cuddling. He wishes he could be a bit sulkier, but Jesse mumbles in his sleep and buries his face in his cat and Andrew can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of him.
He makes his way to the bathroom to use the toilet, and tries not to open the medicine cabinet and pry. It’s really none of his business, but he’d been looking for condoms last night and found a few bottles of pills. Jesse has never mentioned them, but Andrew realizes they must be his.
True enough, Jesse stumbles into the bathroom as Andrew is brushing his teeth and sleepily takes a pill each from three yellow bottles. He takes them without water and without really thinking about it, like it is a habit. Andrew doesn’t ask and Jesse doesn’t explain. Probably, in some weird time travel merry-go-round, Andrew will learn about the pills in the future or in the past or whenever. Andrew supposes it doesn’t really matter either way. Thinking about it makes his head hurt and Andrew is of the opinion that complicated things should not be thought about until after breakfast.
Or, when with a lover, after morning sex.
So he spits and rinses and kisses Jesse good morning and Jesse yawns sleepily and lets himself be dragged into the shower.
--
[October 3, 2006. Jesse is 23, Andrew is 27]
Andrew:
The thing about Jesse, that isn’t really a thing about Jesse, is that Jesse is rich.
It’s not-it’s not a bad thing. It’s a statement of fact. When Andrew first came to America from England, armed with nothing but a suitcase of clothes, an apartments listing and his degree in Library Science, he’d had to live the first few months on ramen and hot dogs until he miraculously found himself a job.
It takes Andrew a while to realize that Jesse comes from money because it seems so incongruous with the way he acts and the way he carries himself. But every month, a check comes in the mail for Jesse, and one time, Andrew had looked at it. There were a lot of zeroes on the tail end of that number.
“My father,” Jesse had said, like it was an explanation. Andrew supposes it could be.
Andrew knows a few select things about Jesse’s family. He knows that Jesse’s father has always been defined more by his absence than by his presence in Jesse’s life, that his father’s guilt is large enough to pay for Jesse’s college education and his rent and everything else he needs to live in New York. That Jesse and his sisters have an inheritance, which is something so old-rich and foreign-sounding to Andrew.
Jesse is rich, in a way that Andrew never really thought he could be, because most of Jesse’s money goes to books or his cat or to his rent and schooling. He can’t imagine Jesse living in some ancient, expensive house, which he apparently actually grew up in.
“It’s not-it’s not something I like to talk about,” Jesse explained to him once. “It makes me uncomfortable and, um, and guilty, which is ridiculous because it’s not something I can change. It’s, um. I, um, most of what I don’t need just, goes, like, to other things. I donate to animal shelters a lot. I know it doesn’t, doesn’t absolve me of anything, but I.” Jesse shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Andrew says, and he kisses Jesse and they leave it at that. The checks keep coming and Jesse keeps riding his bike and donating to animals. Money makes things convenient, but it’s not central to their lives.
So it’s not a problem. It really isn’t. Except that Andrew has no idea what to get for Jesse’s birthday. It doesn’t really have much to do with how rich Jesse is, per se, but Andrew would feel much better about himself if he were able to give Jesse something that he couldn’t just buy.
“Anything but a cat,” is what Justin suggests. He is hugely unhelpful, which Andrew suspects still has to do with him not liking Andrew very much.
“Surprise him with sex,” is what Emma tells him to do, but that’s not a very special idea because it’s not like Andrew doesn’t surprise Jesse with sex all the time.
“You don’t have to get me anything,” is what Jesse says when Andrew caves and finally just asks him. He’s sitting on Andrew’s sofa with Andrew’s copy of A Visit From the Goon Squad, because Jesse likes Jennifer Egan. Andrew is somewhat jealous, but knows that Jesse would choose him over any other because Andrew provides him with really great sex.
And there’s also the whole time travel, soul-bonding thing, probably.
“I want to, though,” Andrew says, instead of the whole spiel in his head, and Jesse looks up from the book and sighs.
“Tell me about the things you like,” Andrew presses on.
“I like books. And cats. And you.”
“Well the last one’s a given, obviously, but please continue.”
“I like basketball games, sometimes? And, like, musical theater. I like taking old, valuable maps and drawing over them with a sharpie. My favorite pie is pecan.”
“I’ve never had pecan,” Andrew says thoughtfully.
“You’d have an allergic reaction and get sent to the hospital,” Jesse frowns.
“I’m allergic to your favorite pie,” Andrew says sadly. He sighs and sits down next to Jesse, moving him around so they are cuddling. Jesse puts the book down and puts his hands in Andrew’s hair, and Andrew makes a pleased noise and nuzzles his neck.
“You really don’t have to get me anything,” Jesse says.
“I don’t want to be a bad boyfriend,” Andrew says, muffled into Jesse’s shirt. He’s a bit embarrassed to admit just how much he wants to be the best for Jesse, all the time.
“You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had,” Jesse says, rubbing Andrew’s back consolingly.
“I want to be your best boyfriend forever,” Andrew says, and Jesse laughs.
“You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had too,” Andrew says.
“Yay,” Jesse says.
“I still don’t know what to get you,” Andrew says, feeling like they’ve veered away from the point, which might have been Jesse’s plan all along. He’s sneaky like that.
Jesse says, “Just be there,” and that tells Andrew everything, really.
“I’ll do my best,” Andrew promises.
--
Jesse:
They don’t have a celebration because he doesn’t want one. Instead, Justin and Emma and Jesse troop over to Andrew’s apartment, and they eat and talk and Justin tries not to be too mean to Andrew. Turning 23 is not a big deal.
What is a big deal, though, is the way Andrew disappears in the middle of a game of Scrabble. He just sort of blinks and frowns and says, “Oh for the love of-I’m-happy birthday, love,” and then he’s gone.
Justin doesn’t even react at first, because he’s the only one who doesn’t know and it is a hard thing to understand.
Jesse sighs, because he’d been about to win the game, and also because now Andrew is going to go crazy trying to find Jesse a real birthday present.
Emma goes and peeks at Andrew’s letters.
“He had two blanks,” she says, dismayed, and Justin blinks.
“He’ll be back soon,” Jesse says, sweeping up the letters and folding up the board.
--
Jesse wakes up disoriented and confused. He’s on the couch and it is very dark outside. The lights on the balcony are on.
He stumbles out of the couch, rubbing at his eyes, and hears Andrew and Justin speaking lowly to each other.
Justin sounds angry, waving a cigarette around. He is shorter than Andrew, slighter, but he moves in big gestures. Jesse has seen him on stage and can tell that none of this is an act.
“-not some fucking fragile china doll that you have to take care of,” he is saying.
“-know he’s not,” Andrew is saying. His hair is all up in tufts, and he is holding himself very still, head turned to the side.
Jesse heads to Andrew’s bedroom before he can hear any more.
--
Andrew:
“Do you think you deserve him?” is the last thing Justin says to him before he puts his cigarette out on the balcony railing and turns to leave.
It’s the one thing Andrew wishes he could answer.
--
Jesse:
“I know you’re awake,” Andrew says to him when he comes into the room. Jesse shifts on the bed, to make room. He opens his eyes and a small noise escapes his lips when he sees Andrew’s bruised face, his split lip.
“I’m fine,” Andrew says, shuffling up to the bed. He pushes himself into Jesse’s personal space and says, muffled against Jesse’s stomach, “Sorry I ruined your birthday.”
Jesse shuts his eyes, steeling himself, before he tells Andrew, “Justin is right, you know.”
“I know,” Andrew says, too quickly, and he grabs Jesse’s hand and squeezes his fingers.
“I know that,” Andrew says again, “But I want to take care of you and dote on you. I want-I want to make you as happy as you make me,” he finishes, voice drawing close to a whine. He snuffles into Jesse’s shirt and splays his fingers on Jesse’s sides, holding him.
“I-Andrew,” Jesse has to laugh, a bit in awe and a bit exasperated, because Andrew’s is the kind of love that defies the rules of time and space, and how he possibly make Jesse anything but happy?
“I think I might be in love with you,” Andrew tells him, looking up at him, and his eyes are all serious and sincere, and all Jesse wants to do is rub out the bruise on his cheek.
“Oh, good,” Jesse says, acting nonchalant, “I was wondering when you would get around to that.”
“I hope that means you love me back,” Andrew says, and he’s actually biting at his lip like he is afraid that Jesse might actually say no.
“Only since forever,” Jesse tells him, and leans down to kiss him.
Andrew sighs happily, drawing Jesse into his arms.
“Happy birthday,” he mumbles into Jesse’s hair and Jesse is surprised when he finds himself blinking back tears.
“Thank you,” he says, clenching Andrew’s shirt in his fists. They fall asleep to each other’s soft, rhythmic breaths, bodies curved together.
--
A Discussion
Jesse:
Andrew likes to cuddle a lot. Jesse doesn’t mind cuddling; he likes being near Andrew whether they’re touching or not, so it’s all the same to him. It’s just that-well. Cuddling leads to making out, which leads, almost always, to sex.
It’s not that Jesse doesn’t enjoy sex, Jesus, no.
It’s electric with Andrew, and Jesse loves the feeling of being fucked out and messed up, but he has things to write and classes to go to and it’s hard to listen to a lecture when you can’t really sit down properly.
He’s been falling asleep in classes and one of his professors had talked to him about it and it’s not like Jesse could just tell him, oh God, the thought is making him want to curl up into a ball-
“Breathe, Jess,” Andrew tells him. Jesse blinks and breathes and they’re at the kitchen counter with Chinese take-out and Jesse wants to slam his head on the wall at the guilty expression on Andrew’s face.
“But it’s fine,” he says lamely, ready to leave the topic behind entirely.
Andrew shakes his head and touches his wrist, says, “Hey, no, let’s talk about it,” like Jesse’s inability to keep up with Andrew’s apparently inexhaustible libido requires a real Discussion.
“Jesse,” Andrew says, seriously, “Why are you only telling me this now?”
Jesse shrugs, “I don’t know. I guess I just. I wanted to be good for you.”
To his surprise, Andrew laughs, seriousness melting away, and he shakes his head and says, “Jesse you-“
“I get it,” Jesse mumbles, and Andrew just shakes his head harder, “No you don’t, you really don’t. Jesse, you are good for me-you’re the best, actually.”
“I get it,” Jesse says again, “Let’s just eat, really, it’s fine.”
“It’s-I-Sex grounds me,” Andrew says carefully, and Jesse blinks, “What?”
Andrew wraps a hand around Jesse’s wrist and says, “Like this. It keeps me here. It mean, it helps. It always has. But with you, it’s more than that. It’s-it’s. You.”
“Sex keeps you from disappearing?” Jesse asks, eyebrows furrowed, and Andrew licks his lips, trying to look for a better explanation.
“How much sex have we had since we met?”
Jesse snorts and says, “A lot. We’ve had a lot of sex, Andrew, and I’ve enjoyed it, seriously, could we just-“
“Have I ever disappeared during?” Andrew asks and Jesse shrugs again, “Well, no, I guess not, and I hope you never do because it’d be horrifically awkward.”
“It’s grounding,” Andrew says, “It’s like, it’s-“ He’s moving his arms around, trying to think of what to say and Jesse thinks, oh.
“Our bodies call to each other,” he says as soon as the thought hits, “When we’re together, your body recognizes this time as your-sort of like, your proper time. It’s like-it’s like the red thread of fate in Asian mythology or, like-” he breathes.
It’s never something he thought of, but the revelation strikes him, clear and hard. “That’s why-that’s why you get pulled out of your time to me? Maybe. It makes sense-well, not sense, but. Do you think our souls are like-it’s like, we’re-”
He can’t think of the words, but he feels them, somewhere inside of him, pulsing faithful and true. Never has Jesse ever felt that words are as wholly inadequate as he has when he is with Andrew.
He looks up, and Andrew is staring at him. “I was about to say something, something different, but that-that works,” he says, looking at Jesse like, fuck, like’s he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him. It’s exactly how he feels about Andrew.
“Okay,” Jesse says, nodding.
“What?” Andrew asks, and then Jesse is kneeling down and unzipping Andrew’s pants, tracing Andrew’s dick with his fingers before pulling down his underwear and then-his mouth-“Fuck.”
Jesse mouths at Andrew’s cock with single-minded determination, sucking at the head and letting it pop from his lips a few times, using his long fingers to cover what his mouth can’t.
Andrew places one behind him on the counter to brace himself, the other sliding, trembling, into Jesse’s hair.
“F-fuck, Jess, I thought you said-ahh,” Andrew shudders through his orgasm in record time, because Jesse’s really, really hot when he’s being intent.
Jesse cleans him up with long, slow licks, and kisses his navel before leaning up to kiss Andrew on the mouth.
“I thought you said less sex,” Andrew mumbles, but he’s cupping Jesse through his pants anyway, rubbing him off while Jesse jerks his hips.
“We’ll work out a schedule,” Jesse gasps out, breathing hard against Andrew’s neck when he comes.
“Love you,” Andrew says, leaning against the counter, Jesse sagging against him.
“Mmm,” Jesse sighs, and wraps his arms around him.
He’d give Andrew a blowjob every hour if that meant he’d never leave Jesse again.
--
Andrew:
Andrew is nervous. They are driving from New York to New Jersey to spend Hanukkah at with Jesse’s family because his mom had invited them and Andrew couldn’t say no.
Jesse is driving, because it’s his car and because Andrew isn’t used to driving on the other side of the vehicle.
He hadn’t even known that Jesse owned a car and Jesse had only shrugged and said his father had given it to him when he graduated high school. It stays in the car park, gathering dust, for most of the year.
Andrew decided not to push it, but spends the rest of the trip trying to pry information about the rest of Jesse’s family from him. Kerri is an elementary school teacher, and she has pink hair and a nose ring. Andrew is both intimidated and amazed by her. Hallie Kate is in high school and used to be in a Pepsi commercial. She wants to go into Broadway.
It’s a bit difficult to reconcile Jesse with the old, sprawling estate that is his family’s home, but somehow Andrew can also imagine Jesse as a precocious child, reading books all day in his father’s dusty old study, with its towering bookshelves.
“You have ladders for your bookshelves, Jess,” Andrew says in awe, the first time Jesse takes him there.
“Sexy, I know,” Jesse deadpans, but Andrew can’t even say anything because, whatever, books are cool, and so what if dark corners turn him on?
Jesse catches on to it, of course, and innocently asks Andrew if he’s ever had fantasies of having sex in a library. The way Andrew sputters and turns red is all the confirmation Jesse needs to kiss him hard. They end up giving each other blowjobs, up against Thoreau and Updike and Faulkner, and Andrew shivers when Jesse tells him they should do it in Andrew’s workplace someday.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” Andrew groans helplessly, burying his face in Jesse’s shoulder.
“Oh no,” Jesse says, mock mournfully, and bites at Andrew’s neck just to feel his hips jerk unconsciously.
The other parts of trip also go well, with Jesse’s mom being doting and wonderful. Andrew makes snowmen with Jesse’s sisters. At night they sleep in Jesse’s room, and Jesse teaches Andrew all the ways to get around the house without anyone noticing, like through one of the cabinets in the kitchen that leads into the study. He takes Andrew all around the estate, to his grandmother’s rose garden, to the greenhouse out back and to the old wishing well by the abandoned fountain.
Everything is blanketed in snow, and Andrew tries his best to be happy and not think of the cold. Jesse is warm, and his home is large but accommodating, and his family wraps around Andrew like he really belongs. Andrew does not like winter, but it’s more bearable when it’s spent with lovely people.
Jesse’s father is not home for Christmas or the rest of the week. He lives somewhere in Atlanta, with another family and another set of children and he is still very wealthy. He handles Jesse’s family’s money, the type of money that Jesse will never have to work for because it’s been handed down to him by other people who knew how to take care of it before he was even born.
Jesse’s mom shows Andrew’s old picture albums of Jesse, and they even watch a video of Jesse as Oliver Twist in a production called Annie and Oliver. Jesse blushes and fidgets through the entire thing, but Andrew keeps a soothing hand on his thigh and stays pressed close to his side.
They have a lot of muffled, quiet sex. Jesse loves trying to get Andrew to lose control, squeezing tight around him and whispering the filthiest things. Andrew tries to stop feeling guilty about fucking Jesse in his childhood bedroom.
One day, one of Jesse’s friends from high school visits, unannounced, and Andrew is the one who opens the door. The girl standing on the porch is pale and looks delicate but she pins Andrew with a look so sharp that he has to fight the urge to squeak.
“Um,” Andrew says, when he feels like she has been staring at him too long.
She shakes her head, as if in disbelief. “You,” she starts, “You’re the-but you couldn’t have been, that was years ago. What-?”
Before Andrew can even think of what to say, Jesse is shooing him from the door, saying, “Rooney, this is, um, this is Andrew. My, um, boyfriend.”
Andrew extends a hand to shake Rooney’s but she doesn’t take it. She stares at Jesse.
“He was the guy at the play. The guy at the year-end party and the one at prom. And-at graduation?”
Jesse says, “Can we just-“ and breaks off, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.
Andrew clears his throat and says, “Rooney, right? I know things may seem a bit strange right now, but maybe you’d like to talk about it over breakfast?”
Rooney looks warily at him, but she nods and steps up to give Jesse a hug.
“Happy Hanukkah, Jesse,” she says, “and I expect a full explanation for this later.”
Then she breezes into the house and greets Jesse’s sisters and his mom.
“She’s sort of terrifying,” Andrew says, watching her, and Jesse’s mouth twitches into a smile. “She’s my best friend.”
Andrew lets Jesse’s mom distract Rooney with breakfast and complaints about how thin she is.
When Andrew gets up to make some more coffee in the kitchen, though, Rooney corners him and gives him a pointed look.
Andrew holds up his hands placatingly. “Do you really want to know about what’s going on or do you just want to know if I’m planning any aspersions on Jesse’s virtue? Because I can assure you that there’s no helping that last one.”
She laughs but doesn’t waver. “I really can’t think of any explanation right now that isn’t extremely creepy.”
“Please tell me I don’t actually have an air of creepiness about me. I’d hate for anyone to suspect that. I have nothing but the best intentions, honestly.”
She raises an eyebrow.
Andrew shrugs. “Okay, okay. Seriously? Just. Time travel.”
She raises both eyebrows. “If you’re trying to be funny, I swear to God-“
“How old did I look when you first saw me?”
She narrows her eyes at him. “I don’t know. Thirty? Early thirties. Older than you look now. You show up like, three times and you never come back and Jesse never says anything, and then suddenly, it’s been years and you show up at the door?” She sounds like she’s close to losing her cool.
“When did it happen?” Andrew asks.
“What? I don’t-“
“Humor me, please.”
“Prom, once,” she says in a frustrated breath, “Junior prom. One of the cast after-parties for the school play. Our graduation, one of the parties for that. Why are you acting like you don’t know this?”
“Because I don’t,” Andrew says. He takes a gulp of coffee.
“The things you’re talking about-they haven’t happened to me yet. They will, in my future, in Jesse and your pasts.”
Rooney opens her mouth to say something, but ends up closing it. She looks perplexed and furious at the same time, like she can’t be sure whether to believe Andrew or not.
“I don’t care whether you think I’m being honest,” Andrew says. He sets the mug down and sighs. “It’s the truth.”
“And if I ask Jesse, will he say the same thing?”
“Yes,” Jesse says, showing up at the door. He says to Andrew, “You were taking too long with the coffee.”
“You’re serious,” Rooney says to Jesse and he shrugs. “Yeah.”
Rooney breathes out, eyes flicking from Jesse to Andrew to Jesse. Finally, she says, “Okay. Okay. But don’t think we’re not going to have a longer discussion on this and why you never told me.
Andrew pouts. “How come when he says it-?”
“I’ll tell you everything,” Jesse promises. “Hallie Kate’s been dying to ask you about Ryan, though. You should get out there before she explodes.”
“I’m being ignored,” Andrew says, feeling ignored.
“You’re needy,” Rooney says dismissively, and kisses Jesse on the cheek before exiting the kitchen.
“…Hey,” Andrew protests, a beat after she’s gone. Jesse laughs and walks over to him. He kisses Andrew softly, close-mouthed.
“I’m glad you’re here, even if you are needy,” Jesse says.
“Thank you for having me and indulging my neediness,” Andrew replies, wrapping his arms around Jesse and hugging him tight.
They don’t give each other presents. Andrew doesn't like presents on Christmas or Hanukkah. He’ll accept them any other time, like on his birthday, but. There’s a whole list of idiosyncrasies and issues that explains this, along with numerous footnotes about the inconveniences of time travel, leading to everything being sad during winter months, but Andrew doesn’t like dwelling on sad things.
Still, no presents. Instead, they spend the morning of Andrew’s last day having sex in Jesse’s bed. Jesse’s room is painted a quiet kind of gold that shines when the sun rises, and he just shakes his head and smiles when Andrew asks him about it. They trade kisses, bathed in syrupy, golden light, and everything is lazy and slick and marvelous.
That night, Jesse takes Andrew to his high school and they walk out into the field and make out on the bleachers like teenagers. They get back to Jesse’s home, wet with snow, and Andrew holds Jesse’s hand as they light the last candle on the menorah.
It’s an over-all successful vacation, and when they get back to Andrew’s apartment, they curl up into each other in Andrew’s bed, their clothes on the floor like fallen soldiers.
Everything falls into a routine.
Jesse wakes up early in the mornings and hums to himself as he tries to find a way to organize Andrew’s books and Andrew usually crawls out of bed an hour later and eats toast on the way to work. Jesse picks him up at night, and sometimes they hang out with Justin or Emma or all four of them together. Sometimes they just stay in by themselves and play chess or talk about poetry or watch stupid things on TV.
It’s the closest thing to stability that Andrew has ever had.
“Move in with me,” he tells Jesse in mid-February, and Jesse does and nothing changes except everything’s a bit more cramped with Jesse’s books and his desk and his laptop and his typewriter and his cat.
They get another cat at the end of February, because they’d had a fight about everything being too messy, and Andrew couldn’t bear it, so he’d picked up a kitten as a truce. Jesse names him Growltiger. He is a Bravo cat.
They work out a system for chores and cleaning up and the cats settle in and things start running smoothly again. Jesse keeps going to his classes because he is graduating in the spring, but he also starts writing a lot, submitting stories and articles to literary magazines, and he gets more acceptances than rejections.
For a while, everything is good, and even when Andrew disappears, it is never for long and he is back in Jesse’s arms and Jesse’s life and they can pretend that his asynchrony with Time is just a minor inconvenience.
Then it is the first day of spring, and Andrew disappears for three weeks.
--
Jesse:
Andrew is gone for long time.
Jesse sits by the window and just stares out at the traffic, listless and bleary-eyed.
Justin comes over a lot and tries to get him out of the apartment-come on, Eisenberg, it’s Spring!-but he’s tangled too far into himself, hands wrapped around his legs, chin on his knees, thoughts and worries endlessly caught together.
Andrew has never been gone away for this long, and Jesse is blindsided by how desperately empty it feels to not have him around. He takes his medicine and feeds the cats and he writes. And he talks to his mom and his sisters on the phone and cashes the checks he gets from his father and donates the money he doesn’t need to animal shelters.
Emma comes over one night and they go out for Indian food. He cat-sits for Joe, and he lets himself be dragged to Armie’s birthday party. Everything is okay, good, even, except when it’s not, and there are the days when Jesse finds it hard to get out of bed.
His depression is like a blanket, or a coat, and sometimes Jesse can take it off and stroll into the sun, but sometimes it is too difficult to get the buttons open and it is easier to just leave it on. Andrew would tell him that he is taking the metaphor too far, but Andrew is not here.
He knows, logically, that love cannot cure a mental disease, and that is what this is, what he has, what makes his brain tired and sad and fills him with anxiety, all the way down to his bones. He tries not to make it a major part of his life, because it isn’t. He is a mostly-functional human being and his illness is a part of him just as much as his hair is, but it does not define him.
But Andrew being away just makes it all worse. Jesse really shouldn’t have added codependency to his already-sizable pile of neuroses, but there was no helping it.
One day, he is riding his bike when it starts raining, fast and hard, without warning. He pedals back home furiously, and nearly crashes into a tree when he sees Andrew, naked and in the rain, waiting outside the apartment building.
He doesn’t care-he absolutely does not care what it’s possibly going to look like to anyone. He abandons his bike on the side of the road and runs up to Andrew, and Andrew only manages to give him an exhausted smile and a murmured, “Jesse,” before Jesse is kissing him.
The rain sluices warm along their skin and they hold each other, and Jesse wishes that it could wash them clean.
--
Andrew:
They are lying in bed, clinging tight to each other. Jesse is asleep, breathing deeply, and Andrew traces his hands along Jesse’s skin gently, just to feel him. They hadn’t even had sex, both of them too exhausted to do anything but nuzzle at each other, hands roaming and stroking, mapping out each other’s lines and dips and curves.
Andrew can’t shake off his relief at being here, being with Jesse once again. He can’t shake off the guilt either, how it had torn through him, sharp and swift, when he held Jesse in his arms and Jesse had felt smaller, thinner than Andrew remembered.
He tangles his hands into Jesse’s hair and holds him, because that is all Andrew can do. Because Andrew has hurt him, and he will continue to hurt him and he is not strong enough or selfless enough to let Jesse go.
Part Three