Chapter Text
April 2025, Auston's apartment
“What?” Auston blinks. There’s no feeling, nothing. Just indifference. That conversation that they had last night, it gave him closure, the one thing he’s been chasing for months. After crying all of his emotions out over the course of the entire night, all the bitterness and despair kind of seeped out, leaving him with thoughts, not feelings.
“I broke up with Steph, we’re done.”
“Okay?” What does Mitch think Auston is going to do? Beg for him back?
“And uh, I gave her the apartment and- and I need a place to stay.”
“Oh,” Auston can’t help but stare. God, why does Mitch do this? What’s Auston supposed to say? “Fuck off, go stay with Willy.” No, Auston’s not that heartless. And when it comes to his own heart and Mitch, his heart’s always the one getting hurt. “Yeah, okay.”
Mitch walks in with his hands behind his back, leaning against the wall, an uncomfortable expression on his face. Auston can’t remember the last time Mitch came over. It was probably when he ended their affair. Uncomfortable memories.
“Make yourself at home,” Auston offers, suddenly feeling like a stranger in his own house, which is stupid, so stupid. This was his best friend, his boyfriend of 7 years! He shouldn’t feel so weird .
“Thanks,” Mitch doesn’t take the advice, just slightly hovers around the couch. Auston plops down hoping to get Mitch to stop acting awkward. It doesn’t really work and just makes Auston look weird.
Once the silence becomes unbearable (Mitch is never quiet when he’s comfortable) Auston stands up and heads to the kitchen. Mitch doesn’t follow like he hopes, just stays in the living room, shifting his weight between his feet.
“You uh, you want something to eat?” Auston calls because he feels like he has to do something, offer something. Mitch is his guest after all. “I have those waffles.”
“What about the meal plan?” And that makes Auston stop in his tracks. Mitch has never given a fuck about the meal plan, ever . That's how he knows that something is wrong.
“Fuck the meal plan,” Auston says. When Mitch doesn’t respond, Auston adds, “Plus, I want waffles so I’m making them whether you want them or not.”
Mitch slowly shuffles into the kitchen, a small smile on his face. It’s nowhere near as big and happy as it used to be, but it’s a start. It’s something that puts feeling back in Auston's chest, a feeling that he hasn’t felt in such a long time. A warm, fluttering feeling that is enough to make Auston smile back.
“Do you have syrup?” Mitch asks, careful to keep distance between them. Auston notices. He puts the waffles in the toaster and sighs.
“Of course,” Auston says, and to lighten the mood, “I have a bag of Skittles in one of the cupboards there. I remember that you liked to put them on your waffles. Gross . Did that change?”
“Nope. Still the same,” He shows Auston a toothy grin (that's not quite genuine) as he starts to dig through all the cupboards till he comes across all the bags of Skittles that Auston stocked up on. His mouth drops open a little as he pulls all the bags out. “Why do you have so many? I thought you didn’t like them?”
“Says who? Maybe I had a Skittle awakening while you were gone?” Auston says he’s not about to admit that he hoarded 5 different flavoured bags of Skittles because he wanted to be prepared just in case Mitch came back. It’s a good thing he’s got them though.
“Did you?”
“No. Skittles are still disgusting,” Auston sticks out his tongue. “They’re all yours.”
Mitch smiles gratefully as he opens up the bag of regular Skittles. “You don’t mean that,” He says, ploping one into his mouth. “Catch,” He throws one in the air for Auston to catch.
“Go put on some movie on the couch,” Auston says, smiling. This feels familiar. “I’ll come out with the waffles when they’re done,” Mitch opens his mouth. “I’ll bring the syrup and butter, don’t worry.”
Mitch shoots him a grateful grin as he takes two bags of Skittles, regular and sour. Auston can’t help but watch after him, fond look on his face. It doesn’t matter if they aren’t together anymore, he can still find Mitch sweet.
The waffles pop up, golden brown, perfectly toasted just how Mitch likes them. Auston’s glad he didn’t burn them. He’d never hear the end of it. For the longest time, Mitch wouldn’t let him forget the time he put chicken nuggets in the oven but forgot to turn it on. Wasn’t that a fun time? (No, no it was not because one, Mitch had laughed his head off and two, Auston had bitten into a rock-hard frozen nugget and chipped a tooth.)
He grabs two plates because Auston’s not sure if Mitch would be down sharing plates again. It’s not that big a deal anyway, just an extra dish to wash (by wash he means put in his dishwasher). With much skill, he manages to balance the I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter! container on his arm and holding the Aunt Jemima syrup with his pinkie while still holding the two plates of waffles.
When Auston walks into the living room, he expects to see Mitch sprawled out on the couch, taking up the entire space, he also expects Mitch to perk his head up and ask “Ready?” with a giant grin on his face as he jumps up and runs over to grab his plate.
But neither of those things happen. First off, Mitch is sitting as close to the armrest of the couch as possible. He’s trying to make himself small, tiny so as not to take up so much room, and instead of his head glancing up with hunger in his eyes, he glances over, and says a quiet thank you before standing up to gently grab his plate.
The most surprising thing is when Mitch returns to the couch but instead of sitting down on the soft, white cushions, he chooses the floor, not even using the couch as a backrest.
Auston just blinks, deeply confused. “The fuck are you doing?”
“What?” Mitch asks, looking up after stabbing a fork through his waffle. “I’m eating waffles? With skittles?”
“No, why are you on the floor?” Auston takes a seat on the couch, propping up his heels on the coffee table. “The couch is way more comfortable.”
“Your couch is white,” Mitch says like it’s obvious. He adds “I don’t want to stain it or shit,” when he realizes that Auston doesn't really get it.
“Oh, Mitchy,” Auston says, leaning down to clap a hand on his shoulder. “You know that I don’t give a fuck about this stupid couch. I can always buy a new one or just hire a professional cleaner or something.”
“You sure?” He asks, but he still looks skeptical.
“Yeah, fuck the couch,” Auston jokes. And Mitch grins back, just small, tiny, no teeth. But it’s something because it doesn’t look fake, it looks genuine. It’s a start.
They both sit on the couch, the distance between them palpable, each on one side of the couch. Auston doesn’t like it. But Mitch seems to be content, laughing at Sheldon Cooper being socially awkward again. Auston doesn’t care too much for The Big Bang Theory but it’s one of Mitch’s favourite shows, so he enjoys watching as long as he’s with Mitch. (Auston totally kept watching The Big Bang Theory even after they broke up.)
“There something on my face?” Mitch asks, looking over with a shy smile. He puts his plate on the coffee table and reaches over for some napkins.
“Hm?” Auston hums. Mitch looks so pretty, sitting, his legs tucked underneath him, rouge dusting his cheeks lightly. Auston doesn’t think he’ll ever meet someone better-looking than Mitch.
“You’re looking at me like- I don’t know you’re just… looking at me,” Mitch says, starting to wipe at the edges of his mouth.
Fuck, how long has he been staring? Auston feels himself start to heat up. “Just zoned out, that’s it,” He mutters, trying to get his embarrassment under control.
“Oh, okay. Cool.”
They both settle back, an unsaid awkwardness hanging in the air that neither of them wants to touch. A few more episodes pass before Auston can see Mitch start to doze off. He glances at the clock and then back to Mitch. It’s not late, just a few hours into the afternoon.
They started the show from the beginning and aren’t even done the first season. Mitch falling asleep while watching a show isn’t like him at all (unless, of course, it’s after a tiring game and they’re on a roadie, in a hotel room and it’s late. Then it’s normal, expected for Mitch to crash within the first 10 minutes of a movie.)
Mitch isn’t fully asleep yet, but he’s definitely on his way. “You good?” He reaches over to nudge Mitch’s rib. Mitch jolts up and swats Auston’s elbow away, a fake (actually, maybe it's real, Auston isn't sure he knows Mitch inside and out anymore) scowl on his face.
“Yeah, just a little tired,” He sighs a loud sigh that sends daggers through Auston’s heart. Seeing Mitch drained is never an easy thing.
“Didn’t sleep well?”
Mitch snorts, “You could say that.”
“What’s up?” Auston’s not sure he wants to know. Not sure he cares. (Such a lie. He’ll always care, whether he admits it or not.)
“You care?” Maybe Auston should just drop the act, show Mitch that even if they aren’t together, aren’t fuck-buddies, or even friends, Auston will always be here, waiting for him.
But of course, Auston has pride. He won’t come crawling back. Not again. “I mean, you’re my guest so…”
“Yeah, well, I was thinking about breaking up with my girlfriend and dealing with the fact that my best friend who I thought hated me actually had feelings for me when we were sleeping together. And like always, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of the fucking media,” Mitch spits, his gaze hard and cold.
“Mitch,” Auston says sternly, wrapping his fingers around Mitch’s upper arm, squeezing gently. He pulls out of Auston’s grasp. “You know you can’t read that shit, it’s not healthy. Plus, none of it’s true anyway.”
“Easy for you to say,” Mitch says under his breath.
“What?” Auston asks, wanting Mitch to repeat what he said.
“Fuck, Matts! Have you read any of the shit they say about me?” Mitch asks, and Auston can see the tears prickling at the edge of his eyes. He might not know much about this new Mitch, but he’s picked up the fact that this Mitch won’t let those tears fall so easily.
“I’ve read the shit they say about me,” Auston says. “I know how tempting it is, but you can’t, it’s not productive.”
“Matts, I’ve read the shit they say about you and let me tell you that it’s not even shit. It’s not even half as bad as what they say about me,” Mitch says, scoffing as if Auston doesn’t get the media hate. And sure, Auston knows how bad Mitch has it, and he doesn’t get nearly as much hate as him, but still, the expectation on him to produce goals after goals is a hard thing to live up to. “Everyone’s complementing you, Max and Tyler, talking about how good you guys work, how amazing your chemistry is, how they don’t need to be paying me 10 million when they’ve got two guys for 8 who can do what I do, better.”
“Mitch, you know that’s not-”
“But it is!” Mitch explodes, jumping off of the couch. Any sign of sleepiness is gone as he just rambles on, his blinking becoming more fierce as they force the tears back. “It fucking is, Matts! That’s what hurts so bad.” He stays quiet for a moment, lets the tears subdue before he starts talking again. “Can I sleep? I’m- I’m tired.”
Auston opens his mouth, wanting to protest. Mitch has to talk about this because god knows what’s going to happen if he keeps bottling everything in. But he also knows that he isn’t the right person to talk about this with. Mitch needs someone he can trust, someone he’s close with now .
“I- Yeah, okay, follow me,” Auston says. Maybe he can invite Mo over to talk with Mitch. He’s always been the therapist-like friend.
“I know where your guest room is,” Mitch says, sour expression on his face. “It’s not like this is the first time I’m staying over.”
“Yeah,” Auston’s not going to mention that he was going to bring Mitch to his room, the one that they used to share. He’s not going to tell Mitch that the master bedroom is open if he wants it because that’s just weird. They’re not together anymore, barely even friends. “Need any help with luggage or something?”
“Um, didn’t bring much, just a duffle bag,” Mitch shrugs, picking up the bag that he apparently dropped at the door. Auston didn’t even realize it. “Steph was kinda just… yelling at me to get out. I got out as fast as I could. Didn’t have much time to pack. I still have to go back to pick up my hockey stuff.”
“Wanna go tomorrow?” Auston asks, not ready to end the conversation because that would mean not seeing Mitch for- for a while (probably only 9 hours or so). “We can go before practice.”
“We?” Mitch asks, expression unreadable, a far cry from the way Auston used to be able to tell exactly what Mitch was thinking in the past.
God, Auston shouldn’t have said we . That was so stupid of him. “I just thought that maybe we could carpool again,” He pauses, attempting and failing to read Mitch again. “If you don’t want to, that’s cool too. Just thought, save the planet and all.”
“Just like before,” he hears Mitch mutter quietly. Mitch probably doesn’t intend for him to hear it, so he just ignores it.
“Night,” Auston says, smiling a little at the fact it’s 1:30 in the afternoon.
“Night, sleep well,” Mitch cracks his own smile before waving and walking down the hallway to the guest room in the other wing of the house. He doesn’t think Mitch has ever stayed in that room.
“You know that you can take the biggest guest room,” Auston offers, trying to act nonchalant. Mitch turns on his heel slowly. “I mean, you’re going to be staying for a while, right? Plus, it’s the same one you always used to stay in.”
Mitch opens his mouth and Auston wonders if he’s going to say, “The one I always stayed in was yours,” but he doesn’t, just… smiles, gives a grateful nod, and turns his stride around. He walks close, places a hand on Auston’s shoulder and says, “Thanks, man,”
And Auston can tell that those words are nowhere near what Mitch really wants to say by the way his mouth opens and closes and his right eye twitches slightly. Those signs have stayed the same even after all of these years.
“No problem,” Auston says, those words also aren't enough to let Mitch know how much Auston really appreciates him, as a friend, (ex)lover and teammate. But they aren’t doing sentimental words right now, just soft little shows of appreciation.
After Mitch goes to bed, Auston tries to find something to do. He turns the TV down, not sure if it would keep Mitch up but, you know, just in case. Watching TV only manages to keep him occupied for 1 more episode before he turns it off, opting to just sleep instead.
When he wakes up, he rolls over, pushing the covers off of him as he checks the time. 10:21. He’s also got a shit tone of notifications from Mitch. He laughs to himself as he opens them. Mitch would always do that before too so maybe he just needs time.
Message from: Mitch Marner
yo wake up
dude
come onnn
(9:21)
when u wake up come out to the kitchen
i got a surprise 4 uuu
(9:27)
ok
hurry up
i’m bored
(9:42)
Message to: Mitch Marner
God you are such a child
I’ll be out in a minute once i put a shirt on
(10:24)
u don’t need a shirt
we’re both men
just hurry up
(10:25)
We’re men who’ve fucked each other marns
(10:25)
exactly it’s no big deal
come on
(10:26)
Do you just wanna see me shirtless mitchy?
(10:27)
And maybe that’s too much.
The 3 dots indicating that Mitch is typing disappear and Auston anxiously sits up and throws his legs over the edge. He doesn’t know if he should just stay in here or go out there and pretend like nothing happened.
He’s about to jump out of his window and run to the airport when his phone lights up again.
what if i do ;)
(10:32)
Auston’s hands shake as he looks down, rereading the message over and over again. Is Mitch serious? God, why does he have to fuck with Auston’s brain so much.
He decides it’s time to actually go out there and talk to Mitch. So he stands, testing his legs, hoping they don’t shake too much. They’re stable enough to walk on, but still feel uneasy.
When he gets out there, he sees Mitch sitting on the island, hands in his lap, phone discarded a couple centimetres away. His head perks up when he hears Auston’s steps.
“Finally,” Mitch drags on, hoping off of the counter. A slight waver to his voice is the only way Auston can tell that Mitch is unsure of their messages too. “You ready for your surprise?”
Oh yeah, there’s a surprise. Auston kinda forgot about that. He was a bit too preoccupied with the - he has no idea what to call it, flirting? Friendliness? Whatever it is, it’s taking up too much space in his brain. “Sure.”
“Okay,” Mitch says, bouncing ever so slightly on the ground. While bringing Auston to the living room, he asks, “When was the last time you saw your mom?”
“Uh, at Christmas I think,” Auston answers. His memory’s been really foggy lately, occupied with... other stuff.
“What’s the thing you miss most about her?” Mitch places a hand over Auston’s.
“Her cooking. Definitely.”
“Okay, well,” Mitch says, smile on his face. Auston can’t tell if it’s fabricated or real. “Tada!”
The hand in front of Auston’s eyes gets removed, letting him see all the plates of food in front of him. There’s chicken, ribs, tacos, rice, enchiladas and churros all set neatly on the coffee table.
“What- What is this?” Auston asks. He doesn’t get 1. what the fuck Mitch did and 2. why the fuck Mitch did it.
“It’s my thank you for letting me stay with you ‘till I figure my shit out,” Mitch says, leaning on the edge of the armrest.
“Well, what is it?” Auston asks again because he’s still really confused, but also hungry. All the food makes his mouth water. It all looks delicious.
“I called your mom while you were asleep and asked for a couple of her signature Ema Matthews dishes. I know that it’s been a while since you last saw her, and I also know that her food is fucking fantastic so you must miss it,” Mitch’s face has gone from proud to nervous as he fully sits on the couch. “So, this is my attempt at making her homemade food.”
Auston kneels down, grabbing one of the empty plates and filling it up with some of everything. He takes a bite of a churro, one of his absolute favourite things his mom made as a child. And when he feels the layer of cinnamon powder melt onto his tongue, he just, fuck, it’s so good.
“Obviously it’s nowhere near as good as hers, but I thought it’d be close, you know?”
“This is pretty much identical to her cooking,” Auston says, already onto his 3rd churro. (Seriously, fuck the meals plan). “Oh, you can’t have any churros, they’re all mine.”
“You like them?” Mitch asks, hope filling his face.
“Of course I fucking like ‘em, I love ‘em!” Auston doesn’t say because that’s a little too desperate sounding for him. Plus, he needs to make himself fall out of love with Mitch, especially if Mitch is going to be his roommate. So he says, “Nah, could be better.”
Auston watches the smile drop from Mitch’s face as he sinks into the couch. And fuck, Auston feels like a dick. Why does he always end up making Mitch feel like shit?
He sighs, he can’t let Mitch sit with those words in his head. “I’m kidding. Mitch, these- these are great. I like them. They taste… just like home. Thanks.”
“Really?” Mitch asks, doubt large in his eyes and Auston’s the one who put it there, so he’s gotta be the one to make it right.
“Yeah, I really like all of this,” He reassures, and to prove his point, he stacks more food onto his plate. “And, let me tell you this; my mom wouldn’t give you her recipes if she didn’t think you would do them justice. She trusts you and your cooking skills.”
Mitch’s shoulders relax and Auston smiles, not proud of what he said before, but glad he could make it somewhat right. “So they’re good?”
“Yeah, Mitchy. They’re really good,”
***
Since both of them took like 8-hour naps, neither of them are tired and they feast on the food until 11:30 pm, joking occasionally. Auston forgets about his ‘I need to forget about my feelings for Mitch’ thoughts and finds himself drifting closer. Not by much, but still, closer than they were earlier today.
“I’ll wash dishes?” Mitch offers, standing up and reaching out to grab Auston’s plate which is perched on his knee.
“Okay,” Auston says. He thinks about offering to do them since Mitch cooked, but he stops himself. If he’s going to try and push his feelings down, he should probably start minimizing the amount of time they spend talking. Obviously, that’s going to be hard considering Auston is letting Mitch stay in the same apartment, but keeping their interactions to a minimum, nothing more than necessary is where he should start.
They stay up super late watching a movie and then a show, which is definitely not smart considering they have practice at 9 in the morning, but neither of them even try to fall asleep again. Auston doesn’t because he knows it’d be futile, not when Mitch is so close.
Mitch plops back down on the couch after his trip to the bathroom, swinging his legs over, filling the space between them. At a slow point in the show, Mitch starts to poke his toes underneath Auston’s thighs, wiggling a space for them.
“Your toes cold?” Auston asks, immediately forgetting about his less-talking-to-Mitch plan. Teasing is just so familiar between them, just like how Mitch getting all up in Auston’s face is familiar.
“Very,” Mitch says, smirk toying at his lips.
“What time is it now?” Auston asks, switching the subject. A large yawn follows.
Mitch leans over, grabbing his phone which he left on the ground beside Auston’s. “Shit, it’s already 6:40,”
“Already?” Auston groans, standing up, releasing Mitch’s feet so Mitch can stand up if he wants to. He starts walking out of the living room. “I’m gonna take a shower, you can take one after.”
“Don’t use up all the hot water,” Mitch calls from the living room.
Auston makes sure not to take too long. He douses himself in water under the showerhead and quickly squirts some shampoo and conditioner into his hand and rubs both of them into his hair, rinsing soon after.
He steps out and wraps a towel around his waist, drying his hair with a second one. He makes sure to take out 2 fresh towels from the closet for Mitch. Then, he stares at himself in the mirror for a few seconds.
The last thing he should be doing right now is trying to make sure he looks hot. He’s about to go play hockey and get all sweaty and gross. But still, putting a shit ton of gel in his hair, quickly grooming his beard and mustache is what he feels like he has to do. It’s funny because Mitch always said he wasn’t a fan of big, bushy beards. Auston kept his short, longer than a stubble but not long enough to grow off of his face. Even after they broke up, he’d never considered growing it out.
After another 10 minutes, he finally walks out of the bathroom. “Shower’s open,” He says, stopping in the living room. Mitch looks up from his phone and his tongue darts out, licking his lips.
“Thanks,” Mitch says automatically. But he doesn’t move to stand up or head to the bathroom. Just stays seated on the couch, looking.
“Um, I’m gonna go change now,” Auston says, very aware of Mitch’s eyes following him.
Once in his room, he closes the door and takes a couple deep breaths. He doesn’t know what kind of excuse to make now. Maybe Mitch was just staring because it’s been a while, or maybe Auston just looked really good. But his entire brain is screaming, he likes you too! and that's a thought he can't be thinking.
Auston has to physically shake his head to remove those thoughts. He’s trying to not get his hopes up because ultimately, when you're let down, having high hopes just makes the heartbreak so much worse.
He pulls out a simple outfit, nothing special. All he’s wearing is the team-branded shirt with the 34 printed on above his heart. Management just got him a new one because the old one was faded due to many washes.
The sound of water starting alerts Auston that he’s spent enough time just sitting on his bed, fretting about whether his outfit is going to be fine or not. This is just a team practice, no media at all. Why is he worrying so much? He knows why but he doesn't want to acknowledge it.
Sitting back out on the couch, scrolling through Instagram on his phone provides enough entertainment to keep his mind busy. Of course, when Mitch materializes in front of him, all the Reels in the world wouldn’t be enough to distract him from this image in front of him.
Mitch’s hair is dripping, beads of water glisten on his face. He totally dried his hair because it’s not leaving a trail of water, but he still wet enough that it would give the sexy water look. The towel covering him is tied low and loose. It’s just high enough that nothing is necessarily showing, but it’s low enough to be teasing.
And teasing it is.
Auston can’t tear his eyes away.
“Like what you see?” Mitch smirks. When Auston looks up, he notices Mitch’s right arm propping him up against the wall. He gets those butterflies in his stomach again, just like when he first fell in love with Mitch.
“Nah,” Auston shakes his head, smile on his face, small and brief, but there if you look. “Bit too boney for me.”
“Thought boney was your type?” Mitch asks, cocking an eyebrow up. “It was at one point because a couple years ago, you couldn’t get enough of me.”
“Maybe I pitied you.”
“Pity sex, nice.”
So this is where they are in their relationship now, making jokes about them fucking. Auston doesn’t know if that’s a good sign or a bad one. On one hand, it means that they’re over whatever happened, that they’ve healed enough to joke about it, but it also means that they’re over everything, all of it means nothing, just something they can look back on and say, “Man, remember when we fucked and I thought you were the love of my life? Wow. We were so dumb,” and that stings.
“We should probably head to the arena,” Auston says because he can’t stand to see Mitch looking that good but not being able to touch him. It’s like dangling a warm, soft chocolate chip cookie in front of a kid but then saying, “Don’t touch it or you’re never going to be able to have another cookie in your life.” Auston sighs. He wants a cookie. “Go put on clothes.”
“Ouch, Matts, I’m hurt,” Mitch clutches his heart, bending over and letting out cries like the over-dramatic bitch he is. “Am I not hot enough for you anymore?”
“Clothes. Now,” Is all Auston has to say and in 5 minutes, Mitch is ready (wearing his own 16 Leafs branded shirt) and waiting at the door. “Good boy.”
Auston doesn’t realize the words and their meaning until he looks up and notices Mitch’s red face, mouth slightly open. He was confused at first, but then, after going through what he just said, he realizes how fucking stupid he was.
Good boy? He scolds himself. How the fuck did I let my mouth call Mitch the words Good boy?
What makes it so bad is that Auston used to call Mitch that, used to be a sex phrase, a sentence repeated over and over whether Auston was fucking Mitch, getting blown by Mitch, blowing Mitch, whatever they did, Auston would always manage to find some moment to drop the pet name to praise him.
Just letting the name drop from his lips so casually makes his own cheeks heat up to match Mitch’s. “Sorry, I- I don’t know where that came from,” He admits, ashamed.
“You’re fine,” Mitch says, biting his lip like he wants to add something. “Should we get going?” But Auston gets the feeling that addition wasn’t what Mitch was going to say.
“Yeah, come on. We should probably hurry. Maybe even speed.” Auston says. “You look fine.” He adds, noticing Mitch examining himself in the mirror. First, it’s his hair, then shirt, eyes, teeth. Auston’s got no idea why Mitch is panicking this much but guesses that it must be important or something. Then it clicks. “Shit, we gotta stop by yours to grab your hockey stuff.”
“Yeah,” Mitch says walking out of the apartment. “Not excited to see Steph again.”
The entire ride to Mitch’s apartment, well, Steph’s apartment now, is quiet, stale, completely different from car rides in the past. Even after the shittiest games, being in the same car together always lightened both of their moods, especially with Mitch singing loud and off-key to whatever song was on the radio.
There’s no singing this time. And Auston can’t tell if that’s because of the stress of seeing Steph or if Mitch just doesn’t sing anymore. He really hopes it’s the former. Even if Mitch’s voice is comedically bad, it’s somehow comforting.
“We’re here,” Auston says after being parked on the street for five minutes with Mitch just sitting, picking at the threads of his pants. They’re going to be late now, but Auston doesn’t give a fuck. He’s just concerned about Mitch right now. “Want me to come in with you?”
Mitch’s head shoots up, eyes slightly wide before returning to their normal size. “No, I’m fine. I’ll just- I’ll be back in 5.”
Auston sighs as he watches Mitch step out of the car. He stands, hands running over his shirt and pants to smooth out the wrinkles. He really wishes that Mitch let him go up with him.
It’s not that he thinks Steph is going to lash out at him or something, and even if she did, Mitch is an adult, not a child, he’d be able to handle it himself. But something in his stomach wants to protect him. But he knows how stupid that hope or whatever thought is.
He sits, resting his head on the window, tapping his hand on the gear shift, gripping the steering wheel, watching the entrance to the apartment building. Time moves slowly, he’s checking it often but it never goes up.
All this extra time without Mitch around gives Auston time to think about how he really feels about Mitch, to reflect on everything that’s happened over the past year and think hard .
The first thing he reflects on is the one decision that put his entire life in flames; breaking up with Mitch. At the time, he really thought it was the right decision, he thought about it for weeks, mulling it over in his head. There was nothing that he ever felt so confident in before even if it was a choice driven by fear.
But weeks passed and soon that certainty, all of that confidence started to waiver. Breaking up with Mitch felt liberating, free at the time. Suddenly all that fear and guilt of holding Mitch back was gone, he went to Arizona and lived his best life, took Domi with him. But when he came back, saw Mitch for the first time, completely changed, the doubt crept in, slowly but it only grew with time.
Then, he starts to think about all the decisions that he made after that. How he let his feelings get the best of him, how he ended up patching things up with Mitch, purely platonic, thinking it was better than not having Mitch in his life.
Ultimately that ended up hurting him, piercing him through the heart when he realized that those feelings that he buried deep down were starting to show their ugly heads, and soon they became too much, too strong. So he left. Again.
Steph had been the main factor of that. Maybe if he didn’t see Mitch all in love and happy, he’d have been able to ignore his feelings, push them down even more and be fully content with just being Mitch’s friend again.
When he attempted to fly out the Florida to find a rebound, he couldn’t do it because of Mitch. Everything about the girl was wrong. He didn’t know how Mitch was able to move on so easily and fast.
And showing up at Mitch’s door in the middle of the night to confess his lingering feelings? Yeah. Probably the dumbest decision Auston’s ever made. Because that’s what kickstarted the entire affair with Mitch, the thing that ruined him even more.
Looking at the forbidden fruit was bad enough, the temptation to touch was so great that the only way to remove it was to just run away. But that temptation, it was always there, no matter how far Auston ran. So of course, he came crawling back, and once he got a taste of it, got his hands on that sweet, delicious, addictive fruit, it was so hard to walk away, like a drug.
Once he did, all his thoughts were occupied by this tempting forbidden fruit. And once said forbidden fruit comes back around, Auston doesn't know what might happen. He’s been able to keep his hands off, for now, but that's only going to work for so long until that craving, and longing returns. When Auston realizes he just has to get a piece of it.
Because forbidden fruit always tastes so much sweeter the longer it takes to get your hands on it.
And right now, Mitch is the most forbidden fruit there is.