A Talk (Cray x Bazz)

What was my Intention?

Cray's POV:

I slid into a small booth, and across from me sat Bazz. The waitress approached our table, and as she did I could see that Bazz had already decided on what he was going to get. "One French vanilla iced latte with one dash of milk and two sugars, please", he spoke. I knew his coffee order down to a tee, just as I knew his favorite wine, his favorite shop, the place he went to escape. I knew everything about him. The tainted smell of coffee and cream whisked through the air. I had ordered a black coffee with one sugar. We sat and waited as any couple would. However, we were not a couple. As of right now, I didn't even know if we were friends. I clenched my teeth and mustered up enough courage to look up at his face, only to notice that his eyes were fixated at my own. "Here ya go", the waitress said, breaking his stare, as she brought to us, our drinks. He looked up and thanked her. Bazz then looked down at his drink almost frustrated now. He sternly asked, "Do we have anything to discuss?" Bazz looked down at his drink, almost frustrated now. He didn't look up when I began saying, "I don't know." This gave him a new sense of annoyance. One that caused him to remove his baseball cap and run his fingers through his brown hair. He sighed. He stared up at the ceiling, and then I noticed that I was the one gazing into his eyes. I expectantly waited for him to tell me something. What was he thinking?

Bazza's POV:

I turned my head towards the window. I could feel his eyes locked onto my face. What was he looking at? I still didn't know. He mumbled my name in a deep voice. I could tell the hour was getting to him. It was late, and I was tired, and so was he, but I could tell his soul was awake by the glimmer in his eyes. I stared into his eyes and then shifted my gaze to his hands. I noticed he was twiddling his thumbs. My eyes once again met his as I spoke. "Look, I know what happened between us was wrong. And I know that you're anxious to know what's going through my head." The truth was, he could read me like a book. He knew what I wanted, and the same went for him. "I'm scared Cray. I don't know who I am. I thought I did until that night. It was different. Everything was different. And you..." Cray looked up suddenly. I had his full attention now. Longing for closure, he drearily spoke, "Bazz, you know how I feel. About this mess. About you. You're the one who's been dragging me through this all." He was right. I had known that Cray liked men for a while. It had just been one of those things no one had talked about, but everyone assumed. But me? What was my excuse? Why am I here? I thought I had reached a mental conclusion to never talk to Cray again. When I left that hotel in Paris I vowed to never speak of what happened. Not to him, and certainly not to the others. But here I was, in a musty little coffee shop, longing for that closure I had craved ever since that night of passion. What was his intention? And then it occurred to me, what was my intention?

Cray's POV:

Bazz was struggling to think of anything more to say. It was okay. He didn't need to say anything, nor did I. His face showed me that he was scared. His words showed me concern. But his eyes? His eyes showed me that he was here for a reason. Maybe he wanted to let go of another version of himself and I was a pawn in his game. Or maybe... Maybe I was the conclusion he needed to reach. Maybe he wanted me there. I certainly wanted him. I gave him a look- The same look that I had given him in Paris.

Bazz's POV:

It was at that moment, I was taken back to France. We were at a bar. Loud music was playing and it was getting late. We decided to turn in for the night. We walked through the streets of the city of love. The snow fell tenderly. Sure, Cray was drunk off his ass, but his heart was sober. As we rolled into our hotel, a rush of emotion pierced through Cray, along with his tight Jeans. Things only escalated once we got up to our room. We had done things- wonderful things. It was different for me. I've never said this out loud nor admitted it in my head, but that night in Paris with Cray, it was a night to remember. With the rush of emotion that jolted me back to reality, I paid the bill and knew what tonight would bring. My face remained plain as I spoke, "Do you want to come back to my place?"