'We'

Chapter Seven

They had been walking for longer than Erik had expected when Felix finally stopped. He had enjoyed the comfortable silence as they walked, but his companion had seemed tense. He had decided not to mention it, however.

They had walked well past the coffee shop, and Erik had taken a moment to glance inside the dark place. Felix had chuckled at that, which made Erik smile.

He wasn't familiar with this part if the town. The man didn't go out too often, and certainly not to bars. Even his outing with Seb had been unusual, but this was something entirely different.

The building they had reached was nothing spectacular. If he had not been with Felix, the man would have walked straight past it. The neon sign above the door was faint and small. Erik wondered why they had come here.

He looked over to see Felix beaming, however. Whatever tension the man had held before had dispersed.

"What?" Erik asked, aware that something was up as it so often was. Felix shook his head quietly, smile not leaving his face, he stepped forward a few steps, holding out his left hand to open the door. Erik did not follow, however. He thought he had seen something on their walk here, but Felix's movement in front of him confirmed it.

"Hey, Felix?" he questioned, and his friend turned back to him with a smile. Erik hesitated for a moment, mouth gaping like a fish. Maybe he shouldn't mention it. He pushed away his doubt. He would forever feel guilty if he didn't. "Hey, is your leg alright?"

Felix looked him over for a moment, then down at the leg he had been limping on. He shuffled it slightly, repositioning it. After a moment, he looked back up at Felix.

"Yeah, it's... Yeah."

"You sure?"

Felix looked down at the leg again.

"Honestly, I'm fine. I'll tell you about it if you care so much, but should we get inside first? It's cold."

Erik nodded, and Felix once more held the door open for him. They walked into the joint, and Erik was pleasantly surprised by the laid-back atmospheric. Felix located a table and led his friend across to it, and Erik sat down opposite him. There was silence for a moment as they looked at each other.

"So?" Erik asked, and Felix bit his lip.

"It's honestly not that interesting of a story. I fell off my bike when I was eleven, and my leg was never quite right since. I guess… I guess hitting it on the table just aggravated it, or something. I don't really like telling people."

"I'm sorry." Erik gave his friend a rare sympathetic look. Despite himself, he was rather pleased that Felix was not as perfect as he seemed. It gave him something to feel better about. And anyway, he felt a surge of joy that Felix trusted him enough to tell him. "I won't say anything," he vowed, eliciting a smile from the brown-haired man.

"Felix!"

The shout caught both men off guard, and Felix spun himself around to greet the voice. A tall woman stood away behind him, hair an unnatural shade of red. She wore all black, and Erik assumed she must work here. He watched her look at his friend, glee in her eyes and felt another pang in his chest.

"Rosa! I thought you might be working today."

"Don't expect free drinks," she informed him as she approached, flicking him gently on the head. He swung his arm back at her, hitting her in the stomach. Erik was slightly thrown off by the gesture.

"Who's this?" the woman asked once they had finished, glancing meaningfully over at Erik. He shrank beneath her gaze, and could not answer. What was his name again?

"This is Kric, with a 'K'," Felix introduced him, and from the glint, in his eye, Erik realised how he was spelling it in his head. He let off a gentle smile.

"Date?" Rosa asked, and the smile on Erik's face disappeared.

"No! I- No, we're friends! I mean-" He looked over to Felix for assistance, but the man was silent and emotionless.

"Oh," Rosa replied with a smirk. "One of those. Well, I'll leave you boys to it."

She walked away, and both of them watched her go. Finally, Felix turned back to Erik, and the latter jumped.

"Does the idea of us going on a date disgust you so much? You could have hesitated a bit more. Anyone would think you didn't like me."

"What? No! Sorry, I mean-" Erik paused in his broken sentence, trying to figure out what he was trying to say. "No offence, but I-" Why couldn't he bring himself to say he wasn't interested? "We're both men." Felix smiled again. Erik had missed the expression of his relapse.

"That we are." He paused for a moment, taking in Erik's face. "Don't look so scared. I'm not asking you out."

"Who was that, then?" Erik asked, attempting desperately to change the subject. He didn't like the feeling of disappointment Felix had just given him.

"Rosa. We've been friends since school."

"I see. So are you guys…" This elicited another laugh from Felix.

"God no. She's like a sister to me. And anyway. That's not particularly my... type."

'What is your type?' Erik wanted to ask, but the words stuck in his throat. He wasn't sure he really wanted to hear the answer. Maybe he did. He couldn't decide.

"So, best friends?" he instead settled for, and the brown-haired man thought for a moment.

"Probably. She's my only friend."

This sentence shocked Erik. This man, this perfect man, sat in front of him had claimed that this was his only friend. He hardly believed that. Who wouldn't want to be friends with this god of a man?   He was everything that Erik was not. And anyway-

"I'm your friend."

Felix's face was unreadable. The smile had disappeared, and he studied Erik carefully. Anxiously, the latter placed his hands on the table, drumming his fingers nervously as a form of distraction. He could feel his heart beating. Had he said the wrong thing? Felix continued to stare at him, his eyes flickering. Something sparked within him. Something that he had managed to hold back until this moment.

Erik looked down. A sudden sensation had reached his hands where they fidgeted against the table. His eyes stared blankly down at them for a moment, not registering what he was seeing. The feeling felt warm. It was nice.

Felix's hands were wrapped gently around his own.