Something Blue

Chapter 10

The cold water made Elliot's skin blotchy. He bent over the sink, splashing and scrubbing his face until it felt raw. There were still remnants of glitter in his pores, but his skin was too irritated to be washed again. Besides, he could only clear away the makeup, not Pierce's touch. It wouldn't be worth the waste of soap, so he removed the sink's plug and let the bubbly water drain.

He was patting his cheeks with a towel when the hockey player stepped into the bathroom.

"I'll be out in a minute," Elliot said. "I need to moisturize."

Pierce shifted awkwardly, remembering the smoothness of Elliot's hands, cheeks, neck, shoulders, arms, backside. His conscience darkened with lewd ideas.

The bathroom was small - cramped actually. There wasn't even a window to make it seem bigger, only a dirty exhaust fan on the ceiling and a plain light fixture along the side of the toothpaste-splattered mirror. Pierce counted three shower caddies occupying the far acrylic wall, only being half-concealed by a cheap curtain. Every other surface beyond the shower was covered in curling irons, lotion samples, or random sprays bottles. Although it was a mess, it didn't deter Pierce from stepping forward.

Elliot looked up when he heard hinges squeak, seeing the door shut. Pierce removed his hand from the knob, not hiding his action. Elliot raised an eyebrow, asking, "Where's Wyatt?"

Pierce jutted his head toward the door. "Nicki is teaching him how to contour his jawline."

"Why?" Elliot asked, attempting to keep the conversation casual. "It's not like he needs -"

"Let me take you out," Pierce blurted, unable to withhold his heavy desire. "On a date."

"A what?" Elliot's hip leaned against the counter, forcing himself to anchor his body in place. He couldn't risk getting any closer to Pierce, not without wanting more - wanting skin on skin. It was hard enough to share breaths while they were filming.

"A date," he repeated. "Forks. Pasta. Maybe some candles."

"I've seen your dick, Pierce. I think we're passed romantic gestures."

Pierce's features fell, his dignity dissipating into the surrounding space like the futile air freshener in the corner. He was done questioning his own sexuality. There was only one truth that mattered - he wanted to be with Elliot. He didn't want any drama or complications, he just wanted to be with the blue-haired boy who invade all his dreams.

"What're you doing Friday?"

Elliot tried to look uninterested, aimlessly reorganizing his nail polish collection. "I'm going to Quinnie's football game."

"Perfect," Pierce said. "We can get drinks after."

"No, Pierce," Elliot shook his head, refusing to look up. "Nothing has changed. I'm not - "

"Let me take you on a date," Pierce's pleaded, his voice growing hollow. "You'll do everything else with me, but you won't let me take you out? We've done a lot together. It's not like you're repulsed by my company. I'm trying, Blue. Please. Let me try. Give me one night. I promise I'll be fully clothed the entire time."

Elliot wanted to build a relationship, but something in his gut wrenched whenever he had to put trust in another guy - which wasn't Pierce's fault, not completely. That lack of faith was an already-existing dent within himself until he met Pierce. The college jock had made being vulnerable easy again, reforming all Elliot's contorted edges with sturdy hands. The blue-haired boy had started feeling new, forgetting his past entirely - before the hands that reconstructed him destroyed him just as skillfully.

If he was being honest with himself, though, he missed feeling safe.

Elliot gnawed the inside of his lip, considering the proposition.

"I can't sit next you," Pierce continued. "Not without wanting to finish your jokes. Or fix your hair. Or rest my hand on your leg. I'm too comfortable with you. All I want to do right now is kiss you. I can't just sit next to you - I can't just be your friend, Elliot. I can't." He was being careful, not instigating any contact. Not even sweeping away the damp fringe that was plastered across Elliot's forehead.

"I know," Elliot swallowed, fidgeting with his thumbs. He felt the same way.

"Please." Pierce's gold eyes had faded to a glow, as if the flame fueling his inner hope was faltering. Elliot didn't have to imagine what it would be like to call Pierce his other half, he already sensed it. Like an invisible tattoo.

"One drink," Elliot decided, finally connecting their eyes. Their states volleyed, but Elliot wasn't sure if they were opponents or co-captains. A former football player and a college hockey jock were a dangerous mix, opposites but entirely equal.

"Deal."

"And I can leave the date whenever I want. No questions asked." He wondered if Pierce would show the same sort of affection sober as he had when he was drunk.

"Okay."

"And no sex."

Pierce twitched a smile. "Not unless my services are requested."

Elliot didn't display his amusement, trying not to let heat reach his ears as he muttered, "There's nothing you can do that I can't find elsewhere."

Pierce pocketed the challenge for another time.