Endless, Forever (3 page)

“Have you got tea?”

Gabe’s head poked around the corner, giving Oliver a wide grin.  “Christ, you really
are
British.”

“Was the accent not a big enough give away?” Oliver asked, smiling back.  “Honestly why does no one here keep tea?  How do you make polite conversation?  How do you
function
?”

Gabe rolled his eyes.  “By consuming over-large, sugary beverages which are slowly eating away our bones and decaying our teeth.  But I actually do have tea.”

“Proper tea?” Oliver challenged.

Gabe gave a sharp flick of his head, asking Oliver to follow him, and he opened a cabinet to reveal several brightly colored boxes.  “Any of those proper tea?”

Wrinkling his nose, Oliver rummaged through and let out a sigh.  “Well you have some herbals, so that’ll do.  It’s probably too late for caffeine anyway.”  He grabbed a box of mint and set it on the counter.  “Have you got a kettle, or are we microwaving like heathens?”

“My aunt is equipped.”  Reaching into a low cabinet, Gabe produced a maroon electric kettle, and filled it from the tap.  Flicking the switch, he leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, head cocked to the side.  “So.”

“Right, yeah.  So.”  Oliver scrubbed his face. “You met Leo before this?  Or is this your first introduction?  Because I’d like to tell you he’s not always like this, but that would be a bloody lie.”

Gabe’s grin widened, his head shaking.  “He and I have known each other a while.  We belong to the same trans group.”

Oliver blinked.  “Trans group.”

Going a little pale in the cheeks, Gabe cleared his throat.  “Yeah.  It’s a group for trans people—inclusive of agender and genderfluid.  Did he…did you not know that?  About him?”

“Oh,” Oliver said, letting out a breath of air.  “Christ no, I knew that.”

Gabe gave him a relieved look.  “Sorry, I thought for a moment I outed him and that is a big no in our group.  Not everyone there is out, but Leo talks about you a lot so I just assumed.”

“I’ve known for ages,” Oliver said, reaching into the box for a packet of the tea.  Ripping off the edge, he opened a cabinet and found mugs and helped himself to two.  “What about you then?  If you don’t mind my asking.  Your pronouns I mean,” he clarified when Gabe’s brow dipped a little.

“Oh, just he is fine.  I’m a trans man.”  Gabe reached into a drawer, passing Oliver a spoon, then slid a small, plastic bear full of honey onto the counter.

Oliver contemplated it as he took the spoon.  He’d never dated a trans person before, but he’d known a fair few, and Gabe was cute.  He still got butterflies in his stomach when he thought of the earlier flirting at the café, and as he added the honey, he knew he was certain he’d like it to continue.

“Well I’m sorry about all this, you know.  I’ve been trying to get him to slow down, but he’s so bloody self-destructive.”

Gabe shrugged.  “It happens.  He’s shared a bit about your history…mother in particular.”

Just the word mother sent a sharp wave of nausea through Oliver, and he clutched his mug, the heat of the ceramic grounding him a little.  “Yeah, she’s a real darling, let me tell you.  But I’m hoping he’ll get his head straight soon.  He’s inches away from academic probation and the fucking wanker is one more unidentified drug snort away from the bloody morgue.  I’m convinced of it.”

Gabe gave Oliver a soft look, reaching over after a minute to give his shoulder a squeeze.  “A lot of us have been there.  The group will probably help.”

Oliver sipped his tea, then let Gabe lead them to the living room where he sat down, finding the couch as comfortable as he thought it would be.  He kicked one foot up onto the low coffee table and turned to face Gabe, who was sitting a cushion away.  “He’s been with you lot nearly a year now, and I swear he’s getting worse.  I’m not sure what he’s trying to accomplish.”

“Well, you won’t be able to help him until he wants it, you know.”

“Thank you, psych one-oh-one,” Oliver sneered, then felt instantly bad when Gabe’s face fell.  “Look, I…I’m sorry.  I’ve been looking out for him nearly his whole life, and I’m not going to stop now, but I’m exhausted.”

“Eventually he’s going to have to learn to fall on his own,” Gabe warned him.

Oliver leveled a look at him, one eyebrow up.  “And what if he falls so hard he doesn’t get back up?  You expect me to live with that?”

“Yes,” Gabe said slowly, inching over just a little.  “You can’t live for him, you know.  People who want to die will find a way.”

“Thanks for that, mate,” Oliver said, tipping his mug and feeling his stomach attempt to crawl out of his mouth.  “I’ll sleep soundly tonight.”

“I don’t mean to sound like an asshole,” Gabe insisted.  “But I’ve learned the hard way that there’s nothing you can do.  And if you destroy your life in the meantime, what’s going to be left for you if he does actually decide he’s had enough?”

Oliver scrubbed his face, then let out a breath.  “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t try.  I’ve already sacrificed more than I had to give.”  He absently rubbed his upper arm where the worst of his scars were nestled under his shirt.  “If I stop now, it will have been for nothing.”

“I don’t have siblings,” Gabe said quietly.  “My parents kicked me out when I was fifteen and told them I was actually supposed to be a boy.  I have one aunt, Orthodox Jewish Lesbian, who loves me—but also doesn’t totally understand me—and that’s it.  So I’ve learned to live for myself.”

“So you don’t get it,” Oliver clarified.

Gabe gave one slow shake of his head.  “I don’t.  But I can see you have fire in you.  I saw it this morning at the café.”

Oliver raised a brow.  “I thought you didn’t recognize me.”

Laughing, Gabe flushed a little and looked away.  “I was distracted, okay?  Sue me.  Your brother was puking his guts up all over my shoes and I thought he was about to die.”

“Yes but this face…”  Oliver waved his hand in a circle around his head.  “How is that forgettable?”

When Gabe spoke again, his voice had dropped an octave.  “It’s not.  Believe me.”

Knowing where this conversation could go, and knowing it was not a good idea just yet with Leo still not out of the woods, Oliver cleared his throat and finished off his tea.  “You got somewhere for me to crash.  I have a class I can’t miss tomorrow, and honestly Leo’s going to be dead to the world at least until morning.”

Looking just a little disappointed, Gabe stood up and beckoned Oliver with a hand.  Oliver’s fingers slipped easily into the other man’s, and he tried not to think about how nice it felt to have that sort of contact.  The human contact he avoided at almost all costs.

“You can share with me.  I have a huge bed, and I promise to behave myself.”

Oliver resisted for just a moment, but he knew he wouldn’t get any rest sleeping on the small couch.  So unless he wanted to crash on the bathroom floor next to his unconscious brother, this was it.

Gabe opened the door to his bedroom, and Oliver was met with the faint smell of incense, and possibly laundry soap which he assumed was coming from a small basket sitting on top of a desk.  The place was cluttered, a lot like the living room had been, with shelves covered in books and pictures pinned to the wood.  The walls were a mixture of eighties glam rock posters and Mucha prints.  There were a couple of acoustic guitars, and a larger ukulele hanging from hooks, and a string of what looked like they might be Tibetan Prayer Flags hanging beside the window.

“Eclectic,” he mused as he kicked off his shoes by the door.

Gabe snorted.  “Half of this shit is remnants from my emo teenager phase.  But I’m not in here a lot, so I never bothered with it.”

“And I assume the fuckboys you pick up at bars don’t care that you’ve got David Bowie’s epic crotch bulge staring them in the face.”

“Fuckboys prefer it, didn’t you know?” Gabe challenged.

“I wouldn’t know, in fact,” Oliver said with an indignant sniff, and Gabe laughed as he went to his dresser, pulling out a large t-shirt and a pair of sweats.  Oliver took them, giving them a sniff, then nodded.  “Thanks, mate.”

“No worries.  I’m going to change and check on Leo.  Just get comfy and I’ll let you know if he needs anything.”

Oliver wanted to protest, but it was Gabe’s house, and honestly letting someone else take the lead for even a few hours was the respite he was craving.  The second the door shut, Oliver wriggled out of his club clothes and into the comfy pajamas his host had provided.

It was a damn surreal night to say the least, and Oliver could definitely count on one hand how many times he’d ended up in someone else’s bed.  He made it a rule to never sleep over, and when they were in London, he was too petrified to let Leo alone in his mother’s house for too long to ever have a full night out.  It made his friendships fade quickly, and relationships a pipe dream.

But climbing into the bed now felt nice.  It was well worn, the comforter heavy and soothing, and there was something about Gabe’s smell that made him instantly relax.  He pulled one of the pillows over, burying his face in it, and he could feel fatigue growing, making his eyes heavy and bones ache.

Gabe returned a few minutes later, wearing a big shirt and a pair of boxers.  He gave Oliver a small grin as he reached over for the light switch, and the room plunged into darkness.  In the faded light of a far-off streetlamp, Oliver watched as Gabe crossed to the bed and pulled back the covers.

“Well?”

“He’s warm and breathing.  I don’t think he’s puked since you got him in the tub, so my aunt’s shitty blankets might yet be unharmed.”

Oliver let out a breath of air, feeling his chest unknot a little more, and he rolled onto his back, putting his arm above his head.  “I appreciate this.  It’s kind of weird, sharing a bed like this but…”

“Think of it like camp or something.”

Oliver snorted a laugh.  “Mate, I don’t think you quite know how posh we grew up.  Boarding school and any camps we attended had private rooms and rowing lessons.  We never roughed it or shared.”

“You royal or something?”

That made Oliver openly laugh.  “No.  My dad comes from money.  He moved away from Japan when he was in his twenties to start up a publishing company.  He met my mum—my guess is had no idea how fucking mental she was—and they got married.  By the time she was pregnant with my brother, he was ready to turn tail and never see her again.”

“Divorced?” Gabe asked quietly.

“Nah, never bothered.  He just started up a couple of divisions of his company here in the States.  One in New York, one in San Francisco.  Assumed—rightly so—that the bitch would never want to cross the pond.  Course he never had much thought for me or Leo—never thought maybe leaving his sons with the mad cow was a bad idea—” He stopped himself, realizing he was revealing too much.  “I just mean erm…”

Oliver quieted when Gabe crossed the distance between them, laying a warm hand in the center of Oliver’s chest.  “You know it’s alright, don’t you?”

“What are you on about?”

“You’re not
there
.  She can’t hurt you, or Leo.  You’re alright.”

“Yes, thank you, Captain Obvious,” Oliver said, but it was more a knee-jerk reaction than anything.  Gabe’s words actually had soothed him a little, and to repay the favor, he reached up very slowly and laid his hand on top of the other man’s.  He let it rest with just a little bit of pressure, and when their fingers shifted and slotted together, Gabe didn’t pull away.

He didn’t move closer, either, which was exactly what Oliver needed to guide him into one of the first restful sleeps he’d had in years.

Chapter Three

When he came to, Oliver became aware of several things in no specific order.  He was warm and comfortable, a weight was pressing around his middle, he had slept better than he had in forever, and he was not in his own bed.

Blinking against the harsh light, he peered over his shoulder into a mess of dark curls.  He became aware of breath puffing across the back of his neck, and he realized the warm, heavy weight around his waist happened to be an arm.  An arm holding him into a very tight cuddle.

Very carefully, Oliver attempted to move, but Gabe let out a grumble, holding him even tighter.  A warm mouth pressed hard against a knob of his spine, and for just a second, Oliver let himself lay there and enjoy the sensation.  He had never slept with another person before, and had definitely never woken up to a morning cuddle.

The moment didn’t last very long, however, as Gabe started to come to, and the hold on his waist very slowly eased up.  Rolling onto his back, Gabe offered Oliver a sheepish smile.  “Sorry.  I’m a cuddler I guess.”

Oliver laughed, rolling onto his side to get a proper look at the man he’d fallen asleep with.  He was adorable, all sleep-rumpled and soft at the mouth, and Oliver had the crazy notion to lean over and kiss him.

Instead, he reached a hand over and gave the mess of curls a playful ruffle.  “I’d be more irritated if I hadn’t slept so well.”

Gabe’s mouth curved into a smile, and he looked a little shy.  “Gotta agree.  You’re a decent bed-mate, if anything.”

“Except the morning breath?”

Gabe rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, I guess I could do without that.”  He groaned, easing himself up, and stretched his back.  “You want to check on Leo?  He wouldn’t have wandered off in the middle of the night, would he?”

That was actually something Leo would have absolutely done, and Oliver scrambled from the bed, hurrying down the hall to the bathroom.  The light was still off, and Leo was still curled in the tub, snoring gently against the pillow.  Oliver let out a small breath, then decided to close the door and let himself have a morning piss before wandering out again.

Gabe was in the kitchen by this point, pulling a face as he tugged on something under his shirt.  When he caught Oliver looking, he sighed.  “My binder’s rolled up a little in the back and I can’t seem to…”  He let out a grunt as he twisted his torso.

Feeling bad for the man, Oliver walked over and put a hand on his shoulder.  “Hold on, just let me.”  Easing the hem of the shirt up, he dug his fingers under the tight material, and carefully unbunched it against Gabe’s skin.  The other man let out a long, satisfied sigh as the shirt fell back down, and grinned.

“My hero.”

“Oh, sod off,” Oliver said with a grin as he took a seat at the kitchen table.  “So you’ve brought me to yours, and let me sleep in your bed as my brother sleeps off his drug experiments.  Do I get breakfast as well?”

“The only thing I have is oatmeal with berries,” Gabe said with a shrug.  “The oatmeal is the instant kind, but the berries are fresh.”

“I’ll take it,” Oliver said.  “And tea, if you don’t mind.  You’ve got some with caffeine, I think.”  He helped himself to the cabinets, pulling out a black tea and another mug.  Gabe, meanwhile, put the kettle on, then reached into the fridge for a small, green plastic basket full of berries, and he began to dig through them to toss the ones that had gone moldy.

It was domestic, Oliver realized.  Weirdly domestic.  Normally things like this made his skin crawl.  Who the hell was he anymore, having oatmeal and berries?  The most he ever consumed was whatever Coco or Leo had left over in the fridge, and he was lucky when it was something more nutritious than dubious looking Chinese food no one could remember ordering.

His head was spinning a little with the thought of it, and with the knowledge that Gabe seemed to be enjoying it too.  Oliver licked his lips, then accepted the bowl of oatmeal, heading to the table with his tea.  In silence, the pair added the fresh fruit, occasionally meeting each other’s eyes as they ate.

“So, you said you have a class today?” Gabe said, clearly trying to make small talk.  “What’s your degree again?  I can’t remember if you mentioned.”

“Journalism,” Oliver said with a shrug.  “I always thought maybe I’d go work for my dad later on, but I’m not sure it’s what I want to do with my life.”  He sighed, rubbing at the sleep still crusted in his eyes.  “You really don’t want me to go into the whole fucked up reasons why I do things, do you?”

Gabe shrugged.  “I don’t mind, if you want to vent.  I mean, I’m working on my creative writing degree.  I want to be a writer, but I figure I’ll have to teach while I’m doing it so I don’t, you know, starve to death or whatever.”

Oliver laughed.  “Or you could find yourself a sugar daddy. 
I’m
loaded, you know.”

“Is that an offer?”

Oliver licked some berry juice off his spoon.  “It might be.  How old are you though?  I mean, there’s got to be a proper age difference if this is going to work.”

“Ripe old age of twenty-five.”

“Bollocks.  I’m younger.  Looks like we’re not fated to be.”

Gabe’s eyes twinkled with mirth, and he opened his mouth to say something, but the pair were interrupted when Leo padded into the kitchen, shirt off, jeans suspiciously dark and sticky-looking.  Oliver was immediately on his feet, crossing the distance between them.

“You with us, mate?”

“Fuck off,” Leo muttered.

With a snort, Oliver turned back to Gabe.  “Seems he’s still among the living.  You want some tea?”

“Proper tea?” Leo asked as he eased himself into a chair with a wince.  “Also why the bloody hell was I in a bath?”

“Because you were puking like the exorcist demon in the club bathroom,” Gabe said as Oliver fetched another mug and bag of the black tea.  “I really didn’t want to have to clean that shit up in my apartment.”

Leo at least had the grace to look sorry as he accepted the mug, immediately adding sugar though it hadn’t begun to steep yet.  “Sorry about that.  I don’t really remember much from last night.  How’d we get here?  And
why
are we here?”

“You fucking snorted some shit in the loo,” Oliver said through clenched teeth.  The irritation and frustration he’d been repressing was boiling to the surface now, and even Gabe’s patient stare wasn’t taking the edge off.  “We thought you might have overdosed, so we dragged you here to see if we needed to call for an ambulance.”

Leo glowered at his brother.  “I knew what the hell I was doing.”

“Oh really?” Oliver challenged, his voice high and tight.  “You knew you’d be so fucking wankered on God only knows what, you wouldn’t have a single memory of the night before?  Do you realize where you could have woken up if I hadn’t been there?  If Gabe hadn’t grabbed me from the bar?”

“You’re not my mum.”

“No,” Oliver said coldly.  “I’m not.  Otherwise I’d be holding your head in a bucket of holy water until you turned blue.”

Gabe sucked in his breath and looked away, and Oliver quickly shut up.  Leo looked ashamed, but only for a minute as he sipped his tea.  “Where are we, exactly?”

“Right near the club,” Gabe offered quietly.

“Good.  I want to go home, shower, and sleep.”

“You’ve class today,” Oliver pointed out.

“I don’t think I’ll do anyone any good if I’m passing out during a lecture, Ollie.  So thanks for your concern, but I think I’ll pass.”  Pushing himself away from the table, Leo went for the front door—still no shirt, and one shoe missing—and he was gone.

Oliver stood to follow, but Gabe put a hand on his arm.  “Let him make that walk of shame on his own.”

Clenching his jaw so hard it hurt, Oliver shook Gabe off, but sat back down.  “I just don’t know why he has to be such a little shit about everything.”

“Probably on purpose,” Gabe said.  “He’s going to need help, but you can’t force him.  Just…take a step back.  Breathe.  You can keep him from killing himself without holding his hand to class.  If he fails out of school…”

“He goes back to the UK,” Oliver said quietly.  “To
her
.”

Gabe’s expression fell.  “Just try giving him some space.  See what he does with it.”

Covering his face, Oliver breathed heavy, but allowed his shoulders to relax.  “Alright,” he finally said, and wondered if he meant it.  Could he actually bring himself to let Leo fall a little on his own?  The truth was, he worried his brother had become so dependent on Oliver pulling him from the fire that if he didn’t, Leo wouldn’t be able to recover, that he wouldn’t know
how
.

But Gabe was right on one count—Oliver couldn’t live for him.  Not forever.  And something about that made Oliver crave what he’d been denying himself since he could remember.  A taste of something just for him.  And that something was sitting close enough that if he wanted to, he could reach out and touch him.

“Can I get your number?” Oliver blurted after a long pause, dropping his hands.

“My number?”  Gabe looked confused, the expression adorable although it made Oliver wonder if maybe he was reading Gabe completely wrong.

Trying to muster up his most charming grin, Oliver shrugged.  “Yeah.  You know, so I can text.  Or ring you up.  See if you’re free for a…for a date or something?  Sometime?”

“Just the two of us?  No drugged-out, pea-soup vomiting brothers?”

Oliver let out a delighted laugh.  Gabe’s answer wasn’t a rejection.  “I can’t promise anything.  This is California after all, but… I’ll do my best.”

Gabe giggled, and it sent a pleasant tingle up Oliver’s spine.  “Fine, alright.  You can have my number.  Give me your phone and I’ll put it in.”

Oliver went back to Gabe’s bedroom and fished through his jeans with slightly shaking hands, finding the small device and happy to note it still had some battery.  He tossed it to Gabe who quickly put himself in the contacts.

“I just sent myself a text,” he said, handing it back.  “So now I have yours too.”

Oliver grinned as he reached up to redo his hair into a tighter bun.  “And you’ll answer if I text you?”

“Barring broken fingers or unexpected coma,” Gabe promised, and Oliver grinned wider.

Fifteen minutes later, Oliver was back in his club clothes, full, caffeinated, and feeling lighter than he had in a long time.  This was far better than the hot Texan from the bar, and he wondered if he was doing the right thing.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done something for himself.  A quick fuck here and there were one thing, but with Gabe, he found himself craving more.

“So…see you soon?” Gabe asked, leaning on the door as Oliver stepped into the hall.

Oliver nodded, looking back almost shyly at Gabe’s dark eyes watching him.  “Definitely.  I’ll pop by the café later if you’re working.”

Gabe’s smile widened.  “I am.  Evening shift, so after six.”

“Good excuse to get my homework done.”  Oliver took a step closer, and Gabe’s hand darted out, grabbing the edge of Oliver’s shirt to pull him close.  “And…have you slip me free, expensive British tea,” he said, almost whispering.

“Only if you’re very good…or very stressed,” Gabe said, and laughed very softly as he gripped the side of Oliver’s hip.  “Thanks for the awesome sleep.”

“And morning cuddles,” Oliver breathed, leaning his forehead in so they were pressed together.  Their noses brushed, and he knew all he’d have to do was angle his head, and they’d be kissing.  But he waited.  “I’d like to try that again sometime.”

“Won’t hear me saying no.”  Gabe’s hand moved up, cupping the side of Oliver’s neck, then pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, barely brushing the corner of Oliver’s mouth.  “Get home safe, okay?”

Oliver breathed out hard though his nose, pressing his forehead even tighter against Gabe’s before peeling himself away.  “Text you later.  I swear.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Gabe called, and then he turned and closed his apartment door.

Head spinning, Oliver headed down the stairs and in spite of the chilly morning air, he didn’t seem to notice.  His feet clomped along the pavement as he made the walk toward his house, and for the first time since he could remember, Leo wasn’t the only thing on his mind.  For the first time, he was looking forward to something he felt that maybe, just maybe, he deserved.