Match Your Weakness With A Name

Twenty-Four.

The TSA agent is five feet away from us.

"It's almost time," I whisper to Awsten.

"I'm gonna miss you like fuck knows," he says.

I squeeze his hand. "I'll miss you more."

"Not likely," he says, smiling. "I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks," I say.

"Are you gonna be okay out there?" he asks.

"Only if you're okay out here," I say.

"You're too protective," he jokes.

"Hey, I care about you," I say. "Uh, and we're gonna make the long-distance thing work. Fuck Derek."

"Derek?" he asks.

"Co-worker, friend of mine, gave me some bad advice last month. You met him a couple weeks ago, didn't you?" I say, remembering the incident. Just after Aws and I had gotten back together, Derek had suggested a double date. It was...interesting, to say the least.

"Ah, him." He nods. "Yeah, you and I are staying together. I'll text you good morning when I wake up."

"And I'll text you goodnight when I go to sleep," I say. "And I'll get Skype and we'll do it on weekends if we're not busy."

"Yes," he says. "And you'll come visit me on Thanksgiving."

"I will," I say.

"Geoff, I don't want you to go," he says and takes my hands.

"Hey, we'll be alright," I say. "I won't make any friends at college so I'll have extra time to Skype you."

Awsten rolls his eyes. "Don't do that. Make friends. But I'll fucking miss you."

"Me too. I'll miss you more than my family," I admit. "Promise me you won't...do anything while I'm gone."

"I swear," he says.

"Good," I say, "because if you hurt yourself I'll never stop thinking it's my fault."

"I promise, I'll stay out of the hospital," he says. "I'll listen to my therapist, take my meds, you know, that kind of stuff. I'll be alright."

"And if you ever don't feel like Skyping...?"

"I know, I know, I'll tell you and you'll give me space," he says.

"Glad that's cleared up," I say. "C'mere."

He moves closer to me and I pull him into a hug. Not too tightly, or I'd break his fragile little bones, but enough to feel his body heat on me. His collarbone rubs uncomfortably against mine, but I don't care. He's warm, and that means he's not about to pass out.

I pull back a bit to look into his eyes. His ethereal, different-color eyes. He takes the opportunity to shoot me a massive comical wink, and I groan. "You idiot. Kiss me."

Grinning, he pecks me on the cheek. "You need to shave."

"So that's what I forgot to pack."

"Fuck you, G-spot." He squeezes his arms around me tighter, his bony elbows digging into my back. "Do I really have to let go?" he asks, glancing back at me.

"Uh, unfortunately, my plane leaves for Los Angeles in an hour," I say.

"Don't remind me." He lets go of me and I breathe again. "I know you're gonna be better than everyone else once you get there."

"Probably not, but okay," I say.

"Damn it, I'm trying to worship you!" he bursts. "Can't you just accept your compliments and let me fall to my knees before you?"

"Um..."

"I'm kidding," he says.

"Oh. I thought you were serious," I exaggerate. "And thanks. I will be better than almost everybody else."

"Almost?" he asks. "Who could be better than you?"

"Uh, his name is Awsten Knight, and he's really something else..."

"Fuck the shut up," he says, and I laugh.

"I love you," I say.

"I love you too, you big fluffy asshole."

"That's a disturbing mental image."

"Oh. It is. I'm so sorry. But like, I love you."

I lean in and allow him to close the distance. He kisses me, softly, gently, like the tiny child he is. We're in a public place, so it can't be long, but he does it well. He's a very good kisser. Although, he has had far more experience than me.

The line to go through security is moving along quickly. We don't have any more time.

"You're amazing and I couldn't ever replace you," I whisper in his ear as he pulls away.

"God, I hope so," he says, and I snort.

"Do you know who you are?"

"Yeah, I'm Awsten Knight and I'm okay." He smiles and steps back. "And I can't replace you either. I couldn't ask for anyone like you."

"I can say the same," I say. "Thanks. For everything."

"Thanks for staying with me even though I'm a failure," he says.

"You're the farthest thing from a failure I've ever met." It's my turn to go though the gates.

"I'll miss you," he repeats, and steps away.

"Text me," I say as the TSA agent takes my suitcase and puts it on the conveyor belt.

Awsten walks back to the check-in desks, where Otto/Small Friend is waiting. Together, they meander out of the airport, without looking behind them. I turn my attention forward, to the security guards barking at me to take off my shoes and get my ass though the metal detector so I don't cause an appalled Republican family of four to miss their plane.

The first thing I do when I get to my gate is download Skype.