Chapter Text
It was taking all of Bevrian not to overstep his boundaries and become Rovan’s new cleaning maid when he peered around the room. Clothes were thrown to the ground, empty beer bottles missed the trash can, and an unmade bed with twisted sheets draped to the side, sweeping the floor. The bed creaked and groaned as Rovan sat on the edge of it, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he hunched over his knees. “We need to talk,” Rovan managed to say. “Last night you...” Rovan trailed off and shook his head to clear the thought, starting over. He pressed both hands together as his elbows rested on his knees, his fingers entwined like in prayer. Except, he didn’t believe in god. Nor did god in him.
He took in a shaky breath before he exhaled, blowing strands of his hair over his shades. He continued, “There have been a lot of things taken from me these past few years. My identity, my friends, my trust.” His thumbs fidgeted on the last word. “All stripped away and I had to start over from ground zero after I had left Amina. But there is one thing that I’ve managed to retain this whole time.” He lifted one of his hands to his temple, tapping it lightly with a finger. “My memory.”
Bevrian was leaning on the wall across from Rovan, listening intently. He crossed his arms over his chest. The despairing thought of his friend having no one to turn to and with no support when he left Amina probed an old bruise on his heart once more. He was one of those few friends who abandoned him. After what had happened with Arvan and the bomb, he was also taking second guesses with his trust for Rovan. But who is he really to Rovan now? His eyes softened when Rovan looked up at him. This was Rovan being vulnerable. This was Rovan sharing the part of him that he would never allow others to see. But why him?
Rovan ran a tongue over his chapped lips. “If my memory just chooses to falter this very one time, I will let it slide. But my hunch is telling me that you are holding something back from me. So last night, I ask again. Do you really not remember?”
Bevrian’s eyes cast down to the floor. He picked at the sleeve of his jacket, suddenly nervous. Lying once was enough to shake him to the core. Feigning indifference was not an easy task for him when all he wanted in return from humanity was the opposite. These less than twelve hours of pretending was tiring, draining him all of his reserved energy. He didn’t really intend to avoid the topic when Rovan asked him earlier in the morning. But he felt embarrassed when Rovan did not follow through and told him to head back to bed. Maybe Rovan did not feel the same way for him. His mouth opened and closed. “I do… I do remember. Everything,” Bevrian replied softly. His words tarnished with a bit of relief.
“Prove it,” Rovan whispered under his breath, his words quickly swallowed up by the tension between them. He was the conductor making the final gesture at their music score, snatching the ending note into a closed fist. And a heavy blanketed silence followed after, the kind that rings in your ears before it shatters in an applause.
Anticipation beaded like sweat down his back. Was Bevrian going to back away? Was this really necessary? But Rovan wanted to know what Bevrian knows. He wanted to know where Bevrian had left off before he had to interrupt him, tearing away the piece he was trying to wrap his head around all day.
Unlike Rovan, Bevrian could afford to lose and be selfish, to tuck away this memory from Rovan and never speak of it again. But instead he found himself walking toward Rovan, his motion reflected on Rovan’s shades as two figures closing in the distance. He sat to the right of Rovan, just like they had last night on the bench. He turned to face Rovan, his eyes kind and steady, like midnight ocean waves lapping one another at low tide.
Bevrian’s hand replaced the afternoon light’s soft caress on Rovan’s face just as Rovan sucked in a breath. His touch felt like home and a yearning to go back and to taste what he had once had washed over him like a brush fire. Bevrian’s thumb swept across his cheek, clearing the first layer, the second layer, and then a third. Rovan was grains and saplings and grasses charred and returned to earth. He became very still when Bevrian’s head dipped down and their lips brushed tentatively as if testing the waters. One of them took the first plunge but it was hard to tell who. The shape of their lips that was committed to memory fumbled in the dark, now warm and alive, ravenous, hoping to be recognized and treasured.
Bevrian pulled away to pause for air but Rovan stole his breath as he cupped a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him back in for a deep kiss. Their lips moulded into one another, turbulent and hungry. He felt as if he was drowning and floating simultaneously, his head dizzy with desire. Bevrian resurfaced, a hand on Rovan’s chest to keep him at a distance as they both panted. A laugh escaped out of him, an octave higher than his usual voice. “Let me breathe for a second sheesh. I don’t want Ruby finding out that I died from lack of oxygen while kissing,” he breathes, the tension deflating out of him.
Rovan leaned back on his hands and stared at him. A lopsided grin emerged. He was in a bliss. Bevrian’s stubble still tingled on his chin. He kissed Bevrian. Bevrian kissed him back. Bevrian kissed him back.
“What’s that look for?”, Bevrian mumbled behind the back of his hand, hiding the feverish blush blooming on his cheeks.
Rovan shook his head. “I just miss this feeling,” he bit his bottom lip which was visibly trembling.
Bevrian reached a hand out and squeezed Rovan’s knee gently. “What do you mean?”
“Just… being able to kiss someone. But with feeling.” He tried to keep his voice steady. “You can probably guess that I was in a shithole of a relationship when I was with Lia. Everything I did with her felt one sided, lifeless, as if I owe her something each time. But just now… this reminds me that I actually have a heart,” Rovan swallowed. A tear slowly rolled down beneath his sunglasses.
Bevrian instinctively leaned forward to kiss the tear away, tasting the salt on his lips. His hands slid toward his sunglasses. “Can I look at you?” asked Bevrian.
Rovan nodded slowly. No one has approached him with consent before about removing the part he invented for himself. Either they snatched it for themselves entirely or completely avoided it, no in between. Removing it makes him feel ugly, raw, and vulnerable. But with Bevrian, he didn’t feel afraid to be real, giving permission to his false pretenses to recede into the background.
Bevrian's heart ached as he unveiled Rovan's dark and restless eyes. He really looked like he haven't slept much last night. “I’m not going to let Lia be near you again. We will be smart and outrun her together, okay?” Bevrian smoothed his thumb over Rovan’s cheek. Rovan’s eyes began to pool again with tears. He was moved by Bevrian’s tenderness. Everything about him was so gentle, a stark contrast to his own calloused and violent nature. They were polar opposites: bitter and sweet, soft and sharp.
His lips hovered and pressed softly onto the arch of Rovan’s brows. I won’t let her hurt you again. His glistening eyelids. I will protect you. The bridge of his nose. I won’t let you go. And the slight relief of his temples, selfishly hoping they were areas untouched by others. You’re not alone anymore.
“You’re so kind to me Bevrian. I don’t understand what I did to deserve it,” Rovan sniffled. “I feel like all I’ve ever done was disappoint you.”
Bevrian chuckled softly. “I’m still trying to figure that part out myself to be honest. Maybe it’s the booze lingering, maybe it’s the time we spent traveling together as companions, maybe it’s the bomb that rattled my brain a little too hard. But… I find myself coming back to you. Looking at you. Wanting to stay by your side. And maybe that’s a place to start.” He smiled at Rovan reassuringly.
“So… what are we now then? This…,” Rovan pointed at himself and then back at Bevrian.
Bevrian made a thinking sound and replied, “Two bi dads?”
Rovan burst out laughing. “Fuck my life,” his said with his voice cracked.
Bevrian snorted, relieved to see his friend back to his usual self. He felt Rovan’s fingers running up the back of his hair as their foreheads pressed together. His eyes widened at Rovan’s sudden intimacy, his heart racing sporadically in his chest. “I hate to be a killjoy but it’s probably best to avoid doing this sort of stuff out in public. But give me some time, I will think of something. Can you trust me?” Rovan asked.
Bevian’s thumb brushed along the rim of Rovan’s red ears. “I trust you,” he whispered against his lips before they sealed in the silence once more.