Connecting Threads.

"It isnt considered cheating, right?"

(Too fast?, if it's too fast please let me know.)

Aaron wasn't the type of man who relied on others for validation, but damn, he yearned for genuine intimacy so intensely that it made him feel restless and uncomfortable in his own skin. His past relationships had been a rollercoaster of highs and lows, and frankly, all he'd encountered in women were dishonest, suffocating, and downright manipulative gold diggers.

When he thought about clinginess, he wasn't referring to the sweet, endearing kind; no, he meant the kind that would leave him gasping for air, desperate for a moment to himself, free from the constant demands and expectations that seemed to suck the life out of him. The mere thought of it made him shudder, his mind recoiling from the memories of those toxic entanglements.

It seemed ludicrous, really, how his existence had devolved into a monotonous cycle of work and nothingness, a desolate landscape devoid of any semblance of intimacy. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was fundamentally unworthy of a genuine, soul-nourishing connection, that his very being was somehow tainted by the vacuity of his own making.

And yet, beholding Xander and Ian's symbiotic bond, forged in the crucible of their shared profession, stirred a cauldron of envy within his breast. He yearned for someone to call his own, a kindred spirit to share in the travails and triumphs of life's grand tapestry.

But whenever the pangs of neediness assailed him, it became an all-consuming maelstrom, a torrent of emotions that threatened to engulf him whole. It was as if he was flailing in the dark, struggling to grasp the elusive threads of his own desires, and the sheer frustration was suffocating, leaving him feeling like he could shatter the silence with a primal scream.

Aaron exhaled a frustrated sigh, his gaze drifting towards Xavier with a mix of envy and incredulity. How did he do it? How did he manage to navigate life with such emotional detachment, never craving the warmth of human connection? It seemed almost inhuman, a trait that Aaron couldn't help but covet.

To be so self-sufficient, so utterly unaffected by the whims of the heart – it was a foreign concept to Aaron, who felt everything with such intensity. He couldn't fathom how Xavier's emotional landscape could be so barren, yet so seemingly peaceful. It was as if Xavier had transcended the fundamental human need for connection, and Aaron couldn't help but wonder what that would be like – to be so free from the shackles of desire and vulnerability.

"I don't get it, Xavier. You look exhausted, but you're still pouring over those files like your life depends on it. It's ridiculous – you're the boss, for crying out loud! No one would bat an eye if you took a day or two off to recharge.

But no, you'd rather push yourself to the brink of collapse. I'm starting to think you're trying to kill yourself, and honestly, it's freaking me out," Aaron said, his voice laced with exasperation and concern.

He'd been harping on this same point for hours, but Xavier seemed determined to ignore his pleas, choosing work over his own well-being. Aaron couldn't help but worry – he didn't want to lose his best friend to burnout or worse.

"I'm fine," Xavier insisted, his voice strained, his breathing labored. "If I go home, I'll just be lazy. It's really not a big deal."

But Aaron wasn't buying it. He could see the exhaustion etched on Xavier's face, the fatigue that seemed to seep from every pore. Just as he was about to press the issue further, Xavier's phone rang, shrill in the silence.

"What?" Aaron barked into the receiver, his tone curt. "Okay, I'm coming. Keep them busy," he instructed the caller, his eyes never leaving Xavier's face. He stood, smoothing his suit, his movements economical.