Nathan Kane has too much on his plate. Between financing his negligent mother's relationships and trying to find his own way out of constantly wondering where he'll sleep next, Nate can't have feelings for his best friend.
But love doesn't work tha...
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The first week of September: the talk
Plates clattered in the sink as Nate scrubbed them down and rinsed them under a cold stream of water before placing them into the drying rack. He repeated this act several times before his name was called.
“Nate. Your buddy is in one of the booths crying.”
He fumbled the plate in his hands and let it clatter back into the sink. Mila gave him an apologetic smile, like she wished she was fibbing.
“Fuck.” Nate whispered underneath his breath as he wiped his hands down on the front of his apron.
He glanced around and then rushed out to the front of the restaurant, immediately spotting wild hair and a slumping body in a booth at the far end of the restaurant.
The heavy feeling in his chest that hadn't disappeared over the past two weeks and couple of days just felt heavier, like it was dragging his heart down into his guts.
Julian was crying, sniffles between each breath and ugly whines leaving his lips.
“Julian. You can't be here.” Nate hadn't really decided to be so cold. The words practically forced themselves out of his mouth, he would cave if he ever let Julian's sweet face get between him and his intent to emotionally detach from this shitshow.
The brunet looked up and his bloodshot eyes were filled with fresh tears, “I'm sorry. For- for pushing too hard. I won't ever ask anything,” He choked up, “Just stop ignoring me, and not telling me where you go every night. You're scaring me Nate.”
He wanted to cave, he wanted to pull him in and apologize. Then he didn't.
“I forgive you Bambi. But I needed space, I need space.”
Julian's face drained of all color and his lips trembled, “What do you mean? I gave you space.”
Nate sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Well I'm asking for more.”
“Nate, you don't mean that.” Julian pleaded.
He shook his head no, he meant that. He felt suffocated, and no matter how much he loved Julian; he had to get away and breathe on his own.
“Just some more time. I need- we're codependent you know. That's why you feel like you'll die if I don't show up at your house every night, and why I feel so… guilty for needing time away.” He looked away when he said this, a gob growing in his throat.
Julian's crying seemed to intensify, not a single sound, just breathless shaking and palms digging into his eyes to catch his tears.
Nate swallowed, “I know you think this is me ending things. I'm not. Bambi, do you hear me?” He peered at Julian and heard a whispered yes.
“Okay. Good. My shift ends in a few minutes, I'll take you home.”
____
Nate could feel how tightly wound Julian was behind him on his motorcycle. He had parked in the driveway and then they sat there, in silence as Julian pressed up against his back and he breathed hot air into the chilly night.
When Julian eventually untangled himself and handed him his helmet. The brunet couldn't meet his eyes.
“When you're ready,” He whispered with his weak voice, “I have something to tell you.”
“Of course. Goodnight Bambi.”
Julian backed away slowly and let him start up his bike.
On the way to Dom's place, Nate passed under the bridge and their graffiti blurred by.
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