Fic: if you are the desert, i'll be the sea
Title: if you are the desert, i’ll be the sea
Word Count: 2900
Pairing: Pinto as friends
Rating: PG13
Summary: Zach takes a few days off and disappears, Chris investigates
Warnings: Extreme fluff, mild h/c, mentions of Zach’s dad and Zach/OMC.
Disclaimer: I write lies.
A/N: It’s been a confusing couple days in this fandom and this is basically to make myself feel better about some recent sightings. I felt the need to begin establishing a headcanon in which Pinto are just friends, you know, as a pre-emptive strike for when the shit hits the fan and one of the boys begins dating someone and cruelly plunges me back into the cold world of reality somebody hold me please?. The title is taken from “Father Figure” by George Michael for no other reason except it's George Michael, okay? Ignore the inherent slashiness of the song.
The persistent ringing from his left woke him and Chris reluctantly swiped his hand across the smooth surface of his nightstand until he grasped his phone. Holding it just a few inches from his face, he squinted at the screen to see who was calling him this early on his day off.
Neal Dodson
He frowned.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Chris. I, I just woke you, didn’t I? Sorry, I forgot about the time difference.”
Something in Neal’s voice made Chris sit up in bed. “No, it’s cool. Everything okay?”
“Um. You’re in... Where are you? Right now?” Neal asked carefully.
“Vancouver.”
“Zach’s not with you, by any chance, is he?”
“No?” Chris ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends.
“Have you talked to him in the last couple days?”
“Umm, no.” It was too early for this. “What the hell is going on?”
“I don’t want to worry you, it’s probably not a big deal, but I’m in New York. Corey and I have been here all week. Zach’s gone MIA,” Neal chuckled nervously. “Supposedly he was in London earlier in the week but now, I don’t know... If he’s in the city, he’s been avoiding us. We were just curious if you knew where he was,” he said, unable to keep the worry out of his voice.
The cold and crisp air rushed in the rental car as Chris opened the door. With a shiver, Chris checked his watch again and pulled his plaid jacket tighter around himself before closing the car door. It was a little after nine, which wasn’t too late, but not exactly early either. Stupid connecting flights.
He didn’t know much about the situation, except that Zach had sent a cryptic email to Neal and Corey several days ago while they were en route to New York.
guys,
sorry to do this, but i won’t be making it to any btd meetings this week. something came up. not urgent, not in danger. just need to figure some things out. cleared it with the signature. understudy is filling in. please don’t call joe.
-z
It occurred to him on the plane that he could be completely wrong about where he thought Zach had gone. Corey and Neal had staked out Zach’s apartment in NY with no sign of him and his pet sitter in LA hadn’t seen him either. Logically, there was only one other place Zach could be.
Popping open the trunk, Chris lifted his duffle bag and hefted it over a shoulder, wincing at how the stiff muscles in his lower back protested the cooler weather. He smiled as he walked up the path to the house and thought about when he had visited around the same time last year while he had a couple days off from filming. He knocked on the door gently and heard quick footsteps and muffled voices before the doorknob was turned and he was bathed in a soft welcoming light.
“Christopher!” she gasped, hand over her heart. “Dearest, it’s freezing out there and you’re not wearing a proper coat.” She placed her small hand on his wrist and pulled him inside, closing the door behind him.
Laughing, he bent down to give her a hug. “Good to see you, too, Mrs. Quinto,” he said into her hair.
When he looked back up, Zach was at the foot of the steps, leaning against wall with his arms crossed and lips pursed in annoyance.
“Za-cha-ry! Zachary!” his mother yelled.
“I’m right behind you, Ma,” Zach answered.
“Oh, well, Zachary, why didn’t you tell me Christopher was coming to visit, too?”
“Surprise, Ma,” Zach said, his voice dry.
Zach watched as his mother cupped Chris’ face and admonished him for being too skinny. She took his coat and pattered on about how both he and Zach have lost too much weight and he was lucky she had made a huge pot of meatballs earlier that day and she was going to heat some up for Chris cause, surely, he hadn’t eaten yet.
As she wandered off toward the kitchen, Zach dropped his arms and held his hand out toward Chris. Chris tilted his head in question and gave him a lopsided grin, slapping his hand with a laugh.
“No, give me your bag, idiot,” Zach snapped.
Chris’ expression sobered. “Zach,” he said softly. “Are you alright?”
“You just show up on my doorstep. Completely unannounced.” Zach stared at Chris. “Did Neal put you up to this?” he asked.
“Umm. Not really.” Chris tried not to squirm. “He told me that you were acting out of character and avoiding them and they were worried cause they didn’t know where you were hiding out. And I had a hunch you’d be here,” he explained.
He waited for Zach to say something, but he just stood there, watching Chris, stone-faced. “Are you mad at me?” Chris asked carefully.
Zach’s eyes narrowed and the tensed muscle in his neck relaxed. “Are you wearing two cardigans? One on top of another?”
And like that, Chris knew he’d been forgiven. “It’s really cold, okay? And you know how I have issues with staying warm.”
“No, I’m not mad at you,” Zach admitted with a sigh, turning to head up the stairs, Chris in tow.
Once they were at the top of the stairs, Chris smiled to himself and ducked into Zach’s room as Zach kept walking down the hall toward the guest bedroom. Switching on the light, he sauntered over to the bed and dropped his bag on the floor.
Zach appeared at the doorway seconds later, placed his hands on the frame and leaned in. “What are you doing?”
Chris knelt and unzipped his bag. “Setting up camp. I’m going to sleep on your floor so we can chit-chat all night,” he gestured with his hands.
“Because we’re twelve year old girls?”
“Yup,” Chris chirped.
“Just out of curiosity, what would you have done if I wasn’t here?” Zach asked.
Chris hummed to himself. “Hang out with your mom? Rake the leaves in the backyard for her again? Make her take me to Costco?”
“She took you to Costco last time? She refuses to take me,” Zach said, offended.
“She says it’s cause you buy stuff in bulk and then only eat like, one, and she’s left with huge box of Rice Krispie Treats. I’m changing into these now,” Chris said, holding up a pair of ratty grey sweatpants.
Zach stepped into his room, closed the door, and shuffled over to the bed where he sat down heavily.
“So, what’s going on with you?” Chris asked as he shimmied out of his jeans.
Zach shrugged and picked at a cuticle. “I had some stuff on my mind,” he said quietly.
Folding up his jeans, Chris stuffed them back into the duffle bag and pulled on his sweats. He looked at Zach, waiting for him to continue.
Minutes passed as Chris unpacked and then repacked his bag. When Zach finally looked at him, his expression made Chris’ breath catch in his throat. He’d never seen Zach so sad and lost.
“Yesterday was the anniversary of my dad’s passing away,” Zach confessed. Chris sat down on the bed next to Zach, wanting to hug him but it didn’t seem like it would be enough.
A small knock interrupted their silence. “Boys, I reheated some leftovers,” Zach’s mom called from the other side of the door. “Whenever you’re ready, take your time,” she added somewhat awkwardly.
After a moment, Zach stood up and headed toward the door. “We can talk more later. You’re probably hungry and even if you’re not, my mom’s going to force feed you.”
“Zach, do you...” Chris got up and shook his head. “I can go,” he said timidly. “I didn’t realize, I mean, if you want to spend time with your mom...”
Chris felt terrible, crashing in on Zach like this, and was about to gather up his bag when Zach took two huge steps and wrapped him in a tight hug, his head tucked into the crook of Chris’ neck.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Zach whispered brokenly.
Chris blinked back tears.
It had been weeks since he had a real homecooked meal. There were nights when he cooked for himself, but eating alone was never fun. They sat in the warm and spice-scented kitchen for what seemed like hours, listening to Mrs. Quinto tell them stories about Zach when he was little, and then more recent stories of his cousins and their kids. Chris laughed until his cheeks hurt and his eyes were glassy.
He glanced over at Zach, hiccupping from laughter and rubbing at his eyes. Chris pictured a younger version of his friend, tearing through this kitchen with Joe, making their mom nearly weep with frustration. Zach didn’t speak of his dad much, but Chris knew the lasting impact his death had on him, and how that event and his mother’s devotion shaped Zach into the tough yet deeply caring person he was today. He hadn’t spent a great deal of time with her, but he saw so much of Mrs. Quinto reflected in Zach.
“I should turn in,” she finally said. “You two probably have a lot to catch up on.” She placed her mug in the sink and smiled as she ruffled Chris’ hair and gave his cheek a little tap.
Stepping over to Zach, she cupped his face and kissed his forehead. Pulling back, she took a deep breath and studied Zach for a moment. Unable to look away, Chris watched as she struggled internally, indecisively smiling and frowning, before Zach ducked his head and pleaded with a barely audible “Ma.” Dropping her hands, she gave him a slight nod and took a step back.
“Good night, boys. Sleep well.”
“Night, Ma,” Zach said.
“Good night, Mrs. Quinto,” Chris echoed.
Once she had left, Zach stretched his legs out and rubbed his face with his hands.
“She didn’t say it cause you were here,” came a muffled voice.
“Say what?” Chris asked.
Dropping his hands from his face, he wrapped his fingers around the half-full mug of cider. “She says, ‘My little Zachary, you look just like your father.’ And I know it kills her,” Zach said softly. “It kills me, too.”
Not knowing how to respond, Chris just rested his foot against Zach’s under the table.
“So, I was in London on Monday,” Zach began, turning off the light and stepping over Chris to get to his bed.
It had taken ten minutes to convince Zach that he didn’t want to sleep in the guest room. Chris was cocooned in the sleeping bag under the pile of blankets Zach had dug out for him. He lifted his chin out and turned his head toward Zach.
“What’s in London?”
In the dark, he could see Zach’s outline crawling under the covers.
“A guy,” Zach admitted. “Ex-boyfriend. Well. No. Yeah. Ex-boyfriend.”
“You sound unsure,” Chris pressed.
“Ex-boyfriend. We dated a few years back, broke up, started talking again over the summer, and I thought he was just being friendly cause I was in the city,” he spoke toward the ceiling. “Then, it was, it started feeling like more. Like, it felt good, again? To cultivate someth--”
Chris groaned. “Can you stop using that word?”
“Which word?”
“Cultivate. You use it way too much,” Chris complained.
“It’s a good word,” Zach said defensively.
“Not if you use it all the time. Anyway, keep going.”
Zach sighed. “So he left for London a couple months ago to do this play but we kept talking. And last week he asked me if I wanted to visit. See him in his play.”
“Which play?”
Another sigh. “I knew you were going to ask that. Deathtrap.”
“In London? Who’s in-- oh,” Chris realized. “Ohhh. He was the one who you--”
“Yeah.”
Chris waited for Zach to continue, but the room just fell silent.
“So you thought he meant... and then, things went not so well in London?” Chris prodded.
Again, Zach was quiet. He counted sixteen heartbeats until Zach spoke up.
“You know, my mom, she carries a picture of my dad with her everywhere she goes. She talks to him every night, tells him how her day was, tells him she still loves him,” he paused. “God, Chris, how does someone love that endlessly, that selflessly, for twenty-six years?”
Chris swallowed. “I don’t know. I guess, when there’s someone worth all that...”
“Yeah,” Zach said softly. After a deep breath, he continued, “I’ve been thinking so much about my dad. And my mom. I just got swept away by that idea. The romance of it. Finding someone you want to be faithful to even if... even when they’re no longer tangible but just the way you remember them is enough to sustain you. And to have them love you back with the same intensity.”
“Is that what you thought he’d be? Were you that in love with him?” Chris asked.
“No. I think I hoped. Maybe I hoped a little too hard.”
“There’s nothing wrong with hoping for that. I think everyone does.”
Minutes went by and Chris thought maybe Zach had fallen asleep.
“I feel so foolish,” Zach whispered pathetically. Something inside Chris broke and he untangled himself from his sleeping bag. He moved to the bed and squeezed Zach’s arm.
“I’m not crying,” Zach objected.
“I didn’t say you were.” Chris lifted the edge of the comforter and gave Zach a nudge.
“What are you doing?” Zach said in confusion, but reluctantly inched over to make room for Chris.
“Wow, it’s toasty in here.”
“Yeah, and this bed is seriously not even big enough for me, so--”
“So, you should move closer to that wall cause my ass is hanging off the bed.”
It took some adjusting for them to both settle in, both on their sides facing each other.
“You could just hug me and go back to your sleeping bag, you know,” Zach suggested.
“My mom says that to talking to someone in bed is really meaningful cause it’s when we’re most vulnerable.”
He could see Zach struggling to not roll his eyes. “I think your mom meant for people who are actually a couple.”
“Anyway, back on topic, you’re not foolish,” Chris insisted with a kick to Zach’s shin.
“I am, though. I thought we were going to get back together cause I made it up in my head cause I wanted what my parents had. And it wasn’t until I got back to New York and I realized that I’m not still in love with him. I was lonely and projecting. And then I started thinking about my dad again, and my mom, and I just needed to come here and see her, and--”
“Zach, it’s okay,” Chris assured him quietly. “You don’t have to justify coming home.”
“It was so irresponsible of me to take off like that. To London and then here.”
“We’ve all felt compelled to do something that seems stupid or irresponsible, but if we didn’t actually do it, we’d be consumed with regret,” Chris reasoned.
“I flew across the Atlantic for him,” Zach whined.
“And I flew across the North American continent for you,” Chris pointed out.
Zach’s expression softened. “Why did you do that?”
Folding his arm under his pillow, Chris shrugged. “Cause I’m your friend and I was worried about you. And yes, if I hadn’t done it, I’d be sitting in my hotel room in Vancouver wishing I had.”
He felt Zach kick his is ankle.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out with him. And that you feel lonely.” Chris paused before continuing, “I know it’s not the same, but you have some of the most loyal friends in the world who would do anything for you. I mean, you were gone for a few days and Corey and Neal begin shitting themselves and putting out an APB for you. I’m pretty sure Corey asked Bomer to break into your apartment through a window. I jump on a plane, take a connecting flight, to look for you. Connecting flight.”
“Now, if that’s not love...” Zach mused.
They fell silent again and Chris watched as Zach’s eyelids began to droop. He closed his own eyes and tried not to think about how his ass was still sort of uncomfortably hanging off the side of the bed.
“Is it going to be weird if your mom finds us like this in the morning?” Chris muttered.
“She already thinks you’re my secret boyfriend or something, so no,” Zach replied.
“Really? That’s so funny.”
“I know, right? Like I’d date someone so ignorant about hair products.”
The idea that Zach’s mom thought they were a couple made Chris giggle. He thought about some comments that she had made earlier and how they suddenly made a lot more sense in this new context. Chris began howling with laughter, which caused the bed frame to creak, which only made him laugh even harder.
“She thinks we’re fucking right now, doesn’t she?” he wheezed.
“Probably,” Zach chuckled.
After Chris’ laughter died down, Zach poked him in the shoulder gently. “I’m feeling a lot better,” he said quietly. “As soon as you got here, actually.”
Chris beamed in response.
“Want to go to Dairy Queen and get Blizzards tomorrow?” Zach whispered.
“Oh my god, I can’t wait. This is going to be the best weekend ever,” Chris whispered back.
Word Count: 2900
Pairing: Pinto as friends
Rating: PG13
Summary: Zach takes a few days off and disappears, Chris investigates
Warnings: Extreme fluff, mild h/c, mentions of Zach’s dad and Zach/OMC.
Disclaimer: I write lies.
A/N: It’s been a confusing couple days in this fandom and this is basically to make myself feel better about some recent sightings. I felt the need to begin establishing a headcanon in which Pinto are just friends, you know, as a pre-emptive strike for when the shit hits the fan and one of the boys begins dating someone and cruelly plunges me back into the cold world of reality somebody hold me please?. The title is taken from “Father Figure” by George Michael for no other reason except it's George Michael, okay? Ignore the inherent slashiness of the song.
The persistent ringing from his left woke him and Chris reluctantly swiped his hand across the smooth surface of his nightstand until he grasped his phone. Holding it just a few inches from his face, he squinted at the screen to see who was calling him this early on his day off.
Neal Dodson
He frowned.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Chris. I, I just woke you, didn’t I? Sorry, I forgot about the time difference.”
Something in Neal’s voice made Chris sit up in bed. “No, it’s cool. Everything okay?”
“Um. You’re in... Where are you? Right now?” Neal asked carefully.
“Vancouver.”
“Zach’s not with you, by any chance, is he?”
“No?” Chris ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends.
“Have you talked to him in the last couple days?”
“Umm, no.” It was too early for this. “What the hell is going on?”
“I don’t want to worry you, it’s probably not a big deal, but I’m in New York. Corey and I have been here all week. Zach’s gone MIA,” Neal chuckled nervously. “Supposedly he was in London earlier in the week but now, I don’t know... If he’s in the city, he’s been avoiding us. We were just curious if you knew where he was,” he said, unable to keep the worry out of his voice.
The cold and crisp air rushed in the rental car as Chris opened the door. With a shiver, Chris checked his watch again and pulled his plaid jacket tighter around himself before closing the car door. It was a little after nine, which wasn’t too late, but not exactly early either. Stupid connecting flights.
He didn’t know much about the situation, except that Zach had sent a cryptic email to Neal and Corey several days ago while they were en route to New York.
guys,
sorry to do this, but i won’t be making it to any btd meetings this week. something came up. not urgent, not in danger. just need to figure some things out. cleared it with the signature. understudy is filling in. please don’t call joe.
-z
It occurred to him on the plane that he could be completely wrong about where he thought Zach had gone. Corey and Neal had staked out Zach’s apartment in NY with no sign of him and his pet sitter in LA hadn’t seen him either. Logically, there was only one other place Zach could be.
Popping open the trunk, Chris lifted his duffle bag and hefted it over a shoulder, wincing at how the stiff muscles in his lower back protested the cooler weather. He smiled as he walked up the path to the house and thought about when he had visited around the same time last year while he had a couple days off from filming. He knocked on the door gently and heard quick footsteps and muffled voices before the doorknob was turned and he was bathed in a soft welcoming light.
“Christopher!” she gasped, hand over her heart. “Dearest, it’s freezing out there and you’re not wearing a proper coat.” She placed her small hand on his wrist and pulled him inside, closing the door behind him.
Laughing, he bent down to give her a hug. “Good to see you, too, Mrs. Quinto,” he said into her hair.
When he looked back up, Zach was at the foot of the steps, leaning against wall with his arms crossed and lips pursed in annoyance.
“Za-cha-ry! Zachary!” his mother yelled.
“I’m right behind you, Ma,” Zach answered.
“Oh, well, Zachary, why didn’t you tell me Christopher was coming to visit, too?”
“Surprise, Ma,” Zach said, his voice dry.
Zach watched as his mother cupped Chris’ face and admonished him for being too skinny. She took his coat and pattered on about how both he and Zach have lost too much weight and he was lucky she had made a huge pot of meatballs earlier that day and she was going to heat some up for Chris cause, surely, he hadn’t eaten yet.
As she wandered off toward the kitchen, Zach dropped his arms and held his hand out toward Chris. Chris tilted his head in question and gave him a lopsided grin, slapping his hand with a laugh.
“No, give me your bag, idiot,” Zach snapped.
Chris’ expression sobered. “Zach,” he said softly. “Are you alright?”
“You just show up on my doorstep. Completely unannounced.” Zach stared at Chris. “Did Neal put you up to this?” he asked.
“Umm. Not really.” Chris tried not to squirm. “He told me that you were acting out of character and avoiding them and they were worried cause they didn’t know where you were hiding out. And I had a hunch you’d be here,” he explained.
He waited for Zach to say something, but he just stood there, watching Chris, stone-faced. “Are you mad at me?” Chris asked carefully.
Zach’s eyes narrowed and the tensed muscle in his neck relaxed. “Are you wearing two cardigans? One on top of another?”
And like that, Chris knew he’d been forgiven. “It’s really cold, okay? And you know how I have issues with staying warm.”
“No, I’m not mad at you,” Zach admitted with a sigh, turning to head up the stairs, Chris in tow.
Once they were at the top of the stairs, Chris smiled to himself and ducked into Zach’s room as Zach kept walking down the hall toward the guest bedroom. Switching on the light, he sauntered over to the bed and dropped his bag on the floor.
Zach appeared at the doorway seconds later, placed his hands on the frame and leaned in. “What are you doing?”
Chris knelt and unzipped his bag. “Setting up camp. I’m going to sleep on your floor so we can chit-chat all night,” he gestured with his hands.
“Because we’re twelve year old girls?”
“Yup,” Chris chirped.
“Just out of curiosity, what would you have done if I wasn’t here?” Zach asked.
Chris hummed to himself. “Hang out with your mom? Rake the leaves in the backyard for her again? Make her take me to Costco?”
“She took you to Costco last time? She refuses to take me,” Zach said, offended.
“She says it’s cause you buy stuff in bulk and then only eat like, one, and she’s left with huge box of Rice Krispie Treats. I’m changing into these now,” Chris said, holding up a pair of ratty grey sweatpants.
Zach stepped into his room, closed the door, and shuffled over to the bed where he sat down heavily.
“So, what’s going on with you?” Chris asked as he shimmied out of his jeans.
Zach shrugged and picked at a cuticle. “I had some stuff on my mind,” he said quietly.
Folding up his jeans, Chris stuffed them back into the duffle bag and pulled on his sweats. He looked at Zach, waiting for him to continue.
Minutes passed as Chris unpacked and then repacked his bag. When Zach finally looked at him, his expression made Chris’ breath catch in his throat. He’d never seen Zach so sad and lost.
“Yesterday was the anniversary of my dad’s passing away,” Zach confessed. Chris sat down on the bed next to Zach, wanting to hug him but it didn’t seem like it would be enough.
A small knock interrupted their silence. “Boys, I reheated some leftovers,” Zach’s mom called from the other side of the door. “Whenever you’re ready, take your time,” she added somewhat awkwardly.
After a moment, Zach stood up and headed toward the door. “We can talk more later. You’re probably hungry and even if you’re not, my mom’s going to force feed you.”
“Zach, do you...” Chris got up and shook his head. “I can go,” he said timidly. “I didn’t realize, I mean, if you want to spend time with your mom...”
Chris felt terrible, crashing in on Zach like this, and was about to gather up his bag when Zach took two huge steps and wrapped him in a tight hug, his head tucked into the crook of Chris’ neck.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Zach whispered brokenly.
Chris blinked back tears.
It had been weeks since he had a real homecooked meal. There were nights when he cooked for himself, but eating alone was never fun. They sat in the warm and spice-scented kitchen for what seemed like hours, listening to Mrs. Quinto tell them stories about Zach when he was little, and then more recent stories of his cousins and their kids. Chris laughed until his cheeks hurt and his eyes were glassy.
He glanced over at Zach, hiccupping from laughter and rubbing at his eyes. Chris pictured a younger version of his friend, tearing through this kitchen with Joe, making their mom nearly weep with frustration. Zach didn’t speak of his dad much, but Chris knew the lasting impact his death had on him, and how that event and his mother’s devotion shaped Zach into the tough yet deeply caring person he was today. He hadn’t spent a great deal of time with her, but he saw so much of Mrs. Quinto reflected in Zach.
“I should turn in,” she finally said. “You two probably have a lot to catch up on.” She placed her mug in the sink and smiled as she ruffled Chris’ hair and gave his cheek a little tap.
Stepping over to Zach, she cupped his face and kissed his forehead. Pulling back, she took a deep breath and studied Zach for a moment. Unable to look away, Chris watched as she struggled internally, indecisively smiling and frowning, before Zach ducked his head and pleaded with a barely audible “Ma.” Dropping her hands, she gave him a slight nod and took a step back.
“Good night, boys. Sleep well.”
“Night, Ma,” Zach said.
“Good night, Mrs. Quinto,” Chris echoed.
Once she had left, Zach stretched his legs out and rubbed his face with his hands.
“She didn’t say it cause you were here,” came a muffled voice.
“Say what?” Chris asked.
Dropping his hands from his face, he wrapped his fingers around the half-full mug of cider. “She says, ‘My little Zachary, you look just like your father.’ And I know it kills her,” Zach said softly. “It kills me, too.”
Not knowing how to respond, Chris just rested his foot against Zach’s under the table.
“So, I was in London on Monday,” Zach began, turning off the light and stepping over Chris to get to his bed.
It had taken ten minutes to convince Zach that he didn’t want to sleep in the guest room. Chris was cocooned in the sleeping bag under the pile of blankets Zach had dug out for him. He lifted his chin out and turned his head toward Zach.
“What’s in London?”
In the dark, he could see Zach’s outline crawling under the covers.
“A guy,” Zach admitted. “Ex-boyfriend. Well. No. Yeah. Ex-boyfriend.”
“You sound unsure,” Chris pressed.
“Ex-boyfriend. We dated a few years back, broke up, started talking again over the summer, and I thought he was just being friendly cause I was in the city,” he spoke toward the ceiling. “Then, it was, it started feeling like more. Like, it felt good, again? To cultivate someth--”
Chris groaned. “Can you stop using that word?”
“Which word?”
“Cultivate. You use it way too much,” Chris complained.
“It’s a good word,” Zach said defensively.
“Not if you use it all the time. Anyway, keep going.”
Zach sighed. “So he left for London a couple months ago to do this play but we kept talking. And last week he asked me if I wanted to visit. See him in his play.”
“Which play?”
Another sigh. “I knew you were going to ask that. Deathtrap.”
“In London? Who’s in-- oh,” Chris realized. “Ohhh. He was the one who you--”
“Yeah.”
Chris waited for Zach to continue, but the room just fell silent.
“So you thought he meant... and then, things went not so well in London?” Chris prodded.
Again, Zach was quiet. He counted sixteen heartbeats until Zach spoke up.
“You know, my mom, she carries a picture of my dad with her everywhere she goes. She talks to him every night, tells him how her day was, tells him she still loves him,” he paused. “God, Chris, how does someone love that endlessly, that selflessly, for twenty-six years?”
Chris swallowed. “I don’t know. I guess, when there’s someone worth all that...”
“Yeah,” Zach said softly. After a deep breath, he continued, “I’ve been thinking so much about my dad. And my mom. I just got swept away by that idea. The romance of it. Finding someone you want to be faithful to even if... even when they’re no longer tangible but just the way you remember them is enough to sustain you. And to have them love you back with the same intensity.”
“Is that what you thought he’d be? Were you that in love with him?” Chris asked.
“No. I think I hoped. Maybe I hoped a little too hard.”
“There’s nothing wrong with hoping for that. I think everyone does.”
Minutes went by and Chris thought maybe Zach had fallen asleep.
“I feel so foolish,” Zach whispered pathetically. Something inside Chris broke and he untangled himself from his sleeping bag. He moved to the bed and squeezed Zach’s arm.
“I’m not crying,” Zach objected.
“I didn’t say you were.” Chris lifted the edge of the comforter and gave Zach a nudge.
“What are you doing?” Zach said in confusion, but reluctantly inched over to make room for Chris.
“Wow, it’s toasty in here.”
“Yeah, and this bed is seriously not even big enough for me, so--”
“So, you should move closer to that wall cause my ass is hanging off the bed.”
It took some adjusting for them to both settle in, both on their sides facing each other.
“You could just hug me and go back to your sleeping bag, you know,” Zach suggested.
“My mom says that to talking to someone in bed is really meaningful cause it’s when we’re most vulnerable.”
He could see Zach struggling to not roll his eyes. “I think your mom meant for people who are actually a couple.”
“Anyway, back on topic, you’re not foolish,” Chris insisted with a kick to Zach’s shin.
“I am, though. I thought we were going to get back together cause I made it up in my head cause I wanted what my parents had. And it wasn’t until I got back to New York and I realized that I’m not still in love with him. I was lonely and projecting. And then I started thinking about my dad again, and my mom, and I just needed to come here and see her, and--”
“Zach, it’s okay,” Chris assured him quietly. “You don’t have to justify coming home.”
“It was so irresponsible of me to take off like that. To London and then here.”
“We’ve all felt compelled to do something that seems stupid or irresponsible, but if we didn’t actually do it, we’d be consumed with regret,” Chris reasoned.
“I flew across the Atlantic for him,” Zach whined.
“And I flew across the North American continent for you,” Chris pointed out.
Zach’s expression softened. “Why did you do that?”
Folding his arm under his pillow, Chris shrugged. “Cause I’m your friend and I was worried about you. And yes, if I hadn’t done it, I’d be sitting in my hotel room in Vancouver wishing I had.”
He felt Zach kick his is ankle.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out with him. And that you feel lonely.” Chris paused before continuing, “I know it’s not the same, but you have some of the most loyal friends in the world who would do anything for you. I mean, you were gone for a few days and Corey and Neal begin shitting themselves and putting out an APB for you. I’m pretty sure Corey asked Bomer to break into your apartment through a window. I jump on a plane, take a connecting flight, to look for you. Connecting flight.”
“Now, if that’s not love...” Zach mused.
They fell silent again and Chris watched as Zach’s eyelids began to droop. He closed his own eyes and tried not to think about how his ass was still sort of uncomfortably hanging off the side of the bed.
“Is it going to be weird if your mom finds us like this in the morning?” Chris muttered.
“She already thinks you’re my secret boyfriend or something, so no,” Zach replied.
“Really? That’s so funny.”
“I know, right? Like I’d date someone so ignorant about hair products.”
The idea that Zach’s mom thought they were a couple made Chris giggle. He thought about some comments that she had made earlier and how they suddenly made a lot more sense in this new context. Chris began howling with laughter, which caused the bed frame to creak, which only made him laugh even harder.
“She thinks we’re fucking right now, doesn’t she?” he wheezed.
“Probably,” Zach chuckled.
After Chris’ laughter died down, Zach poked him in the shoulder gently. “I’m feeling a lot better,” he said quietly. “As soon as you got here, actually.”
Chris beamed in response.
“Want to go to Dairy Queen and get Blizzards tomorrow?” Zach whispered.
“Oh my god, I can’t wait. This is going to be the best weekend ever,” Chris whispered back.