Comfortable Silence |Virgato|

Chapter 21

Chris likes to have Joel curled up against him on the couch while they watch TV. He stays still, wrapping Joel in his warmth and letting Joel feel his breaths against his body, but he doesn't rub his hand up and down Joel's arm, or trace circles on Joel's hip with his thumb. He holds Joel. Solid and steady. There's no uncomfortable prickling under Joel's skin, no repetitive touches that set his teeth on edge. Chris might kiss him once, on the top of his shoulder or the back of his hand, or sometimes he tries to catch Joel's earlobe between his teeth - a tricky maneuver, but one so perfectly absurd that it makes Joel laugh brightly every time.

Sometimes Joel is tempted to ask Chris how he seems to know exactly how Joel prefers to be touched. He never does, though, because there's something nice about the possibility that it just happens to be what Chris does naturally. That they just fit.

Strangely, Joel finds himself reaching for Chris's hand to hold any time they're walking side by side. Joel never wanted The Ex to hold his hand, so what the fuck is happening inside his brain now? All these chemicals are making him crazy. Suddenly he's consumed by the relentless nagging desire to slip his fingers between Chris's any chance he gets.

The hand holding was never the problem with The Ex, though, was it? It was the intention behind the hand holding, and the way it made Joel feel trapped in so many different ways. Chris doesn't make Joel feel trapped. When Joel reaches for Chris's hand, it's a question, not a demand, and he learned that from Chris - from the way Chris tentatively slips his hand inside Joel's jacket pocket, fingers tapping softly like he's knocking on the door, waiting for Joel to let him in.

One afternoon, Chris is holding Joel like he usually does while they're on the couch watching TV, and the warm scent of cinnamon and nutmeg fills Joel's apartment while two pumpkin pies bake in the oven - Joel's contribution for Erick's upcoming Friendsgiving celebration. While the TV drones, Chris says, seemingly out of nowhere, "It's crazy to think about when you were just a cute guy on the bus."

"Yeah?" Joel tries to scrunch himself up into the tiniest ball he can, pressing himself back against Chris and hoping Chris's arms will wrap around him. They do, in a practiced, familiar way that makes Joel's heart twist, tugging so hard at his chest he has to close his eyes for a second, just taking it in.

Practiced and familiar was Joel's nemesis for so long. Practiced and familiar was what he had with The Ex instead of feeling. He's not quite sure why now, he gets all three.

"I had no idea what I was getting myself into," Chris says, scooting his hips back to make more room on the couch for the ball of Joel in front of him. "I though, oh, a cute guy on the bus to lust after. I didn't know you were all this. All these other things that would make me insane. Good insane," he adds, pressing his lips against the back of Joel's neck.

It's hard to contain the shudder that threatens to rack Joel's body from the tickling whisper of Chris's lips against his skin. "You didn't know I made pies, is what you mean."

Chris laughs and it ruffles the hair at the base of Joel's neck, forcing the shudder out after all. "That's definitely one of the things," he says, squeezing Joel tightly against him, maybe misinterpreting the shudder as a shiver. "But there are so many others. I didn't know you were taller than me and smarter than me, and that you had an amazing ass, and that your chest is perfect to lay on. I didn't know that you were funny and kind, but also just the right amount of trouble." He pauses, and his voice is softer when he speaks again. "I didn't know that you thought so much and felt so much."

It's a good thing Chris can't see Joel's face. Because he's probably in love with Chris. And he's terrified.

Months before the actual break-up conversation with The Ex, there was an uncomfortable talk where Joel danced around the idea, said (almost) everything he felt - and it just sat in the air, hanging like a dense fog around the living room. The unspoken conclusion to their story was already clear, at least as far as Joel was concerned, but he couldn't make himself say it. He stared at the wall behind The Ex's shoulder, not wanting to see his face. Not knowing if he was reaching the same conclusion, or if he somehow still thought the relationship was a given. That no matter how unhappy they might be, breaking up wasn't a real option. Breaking up would be worse.

And after the talk, nothing really changed. Joel knew it wouldn't, though. There was no solution, and there never would be.

He thinks about that conversation sometimes, wondering, not unkindly, why he couldn't say what he really wanted to say. Why he couldn't look at The Ex. Despite all their time together, despite getting to a point where he didn't even want to be with The Ex anymore - the stakes were so low - he still couldn't spit it out.

He's been thinking about that conversation even more than usual lately, because he knows he needs to talk to Chris about his fears about their future before they get too far past the point of no return.

And what Chris just said, and the way it made Joel feel - it seems awfully close to the point of no return.

He's scared, because it's not realistic for them to be like this forever, finding every mannerism and idiosyncrasy adorable and charming, wanting to spend as much time as possible together, craving each other in every possible way. Eventually they're going to annoy each other. Eventually they're going to get tired of each other.

And maybe that's normal and okay, but how is Joel supposed to know that it - they - will be different? Because that's what happened with The Ex. The little annoyances led to distance and emptiness, and nothing terrible happened between them, but eventually, they just weren't good for each other anymore.

Is that what will happen with Chris, too?

Even though he knows he should say something, Joel doesn't know how to express this to Chris, doesn't know how to make Chris understand his fear without scaring him away, and maybe it's better if he doesn't say anything anyway. None of it is Chris's problem or Chris's fault. (But, his brain whispers to him quietly, Chris would listen and understand.)

Most of the time when they're together, Joel can't forget. The fear slips away, and his entire consciousness is just wrapped up in how happy he is with Chris right now. It's not until he's alone, lying in bed at night, or in the kitchen, blending pastry for a pie crust, that the dread sets in. It doesn't seem so important to talk to Chris about his irrational anxiety when they're in the middle of a nice day together. The time is never right.

Right now certainly isn't right, not after Chris just said so many sweet things to him, just because - just because he fucking felt them, and wanted Joel to know. Imagine if Joel showed his appreciating for that by saying, "Hey, Chris. I think I love you, and I don't think I can do that forever, so maybe we should break up now."

He doesn't want that. Even thinking the words makes his heart feel like it's being ripped to shreds, eviscerated by the damn pastry blender. But he's not sure there's any other way.

"I knew," he says, pressing his face against Chris's arm. "What I was getting into. I knew. Even though I couldn't be with you then, I knew what it would be like if I could." He closes his eyes, tired suddenly. "That you'd be easy for me."

Chris squeezes him tightly again, and maybe it never was for Joel's benefit alone. It's possible Joel falls asleep and dreams up Chris's response.

"In more ways than one."