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Matt woke up early on the morning that Tim was finally moving in. It had taken three weeks of planning and packing, but it was happening. He hurried through his exercises but lingered under the warm spray of the shower. It might be the last one he would take alone for a while.
He'd asked his housekeeper to move half his wardrobe into the guest bedroom closet, so the winter coats, suits, and assorted outfits he hardly ever wore now resided there. Half his closet was now Tim's, and it was strange to know that he was now sharing that space with someone else. Matt had always lived alone in this apartment.
Tim and the movers arrived just before noon, and Matt had pizza and bottled water waiting on them. This was one of the few things that he could do to help, and he could tell that the movers weren't expecting it but were pleased to be thought of.
Afterwards, they made quick work of carrying in box after box. Most of Tim's furniture was going into storage in case Alexandra needed it when she went to college in a couple of years. A well-worn leather recliner was the only large thing he'd asked to bring into the apartment, and luckily, it went with Matt's décor.
While Tim was overseeing the placement of the recliner, Matt decided to start moving his clothes out of the wardrobe boxes in the bedroom and into the closet. It was a short walk from the boxes to the closet, so he could manage without his crutches. He was making progress when Tim stepped through the door.
"Hey. What are you doing?"
"Putting your clothes away." Matt avoided the disapproving look he could feel burning into his back by keeping himself focused on getting back to the closet. "It's no big deal."
"You don't have to do anything," Tim said, trying to intercept. He reached out to take the two suits Matt was holding, but his boyfriend jerked back and stumbled.
Matt glared as he steadied himself. "I can help."
"There's no reason for you to tire yourself out. The movers are taking care of things in the living room and kitchen, and I was going to get the clothes sorted out."
"I can do this," Matt had to insist. He wasn't some helpless child, and he hated standing by uselessly while the heavy lifting was being done elsewhere. He'd helped people move for years before his injury, and it really struck a chord when he couldn't do it now, especially when it was his boyfriend moving into his own apartment.
"Matt-"
"Dammit, Tim! I'm fine. I can do this. Go away."
"Don't be ridiculous! There's absolutely no reason for you to do this. I don't want you to get hurt!"
"Is that what you think? That I'm some invalid who can't walk five steps without falling over and getting hurt? Don't be an asshole."
"Matt-" Tim reached for him them, but Matt stepped back, dropped the suits, and used the wall behind him to help him stay balanced. He thought about standing his ground, but when Tim reached out again, he had to get out of there before he really lost it. He glared while he grabbed his crutches from where they were leaning against the wall and headed out of the room.
He kept on going right past the movers despite having to change course around the boxes strewn across the floor and out the front door. Without having a plan, Matt wandered down the street until he got to Willie's restaurant. He moved inside, gave the hostess a small smile and then took a seat in the back corner.
Willie was frowning when he sat down across from him with a glass of water and a plate of ceviche. "What happened?"
Matt sighed. "Tim and I got into a fight."
"Today?"
"Yes. I was putting his clothes away, and he was apparently offended."
"Were you not color-coordinating? Some of us prefer organization, you know."
Matt rolled his eyes. "He said I shouldn't tire myself out or help because I could get hurt."
"Well, he's not wrong."
Matt glared at him and stabbed at his food with a fork. "Why would you say that?"
"I'm not trying to upset you, but it does, in general, take you twice as much effort. I know, and I know that Tim knows, that you can take care of yourself, but this is one of those times when you might have to suck it up. Plus, you didn't really want to spend the afternoon hanging up suits, did you?"
"That's not the point."
"Then, what is it?"
"I'm a grown man, and I don't have to sit around and watch everyone else do things for me."
"Matt, this wasn't for you. Tim's moving in because he wants to be with you, but it's his stuff that needs to be moved and sorted. Just because you want to help doesn't mean that you have to."
Matt sulked, and Willie slipped away to check on other customers. He wanted to seethe and be upset, but the truth was that Willie was right. Accepting his limitations was a struggle, and Matt had yet to become fully comfortable with them despite the number of years that had past since his injury. He sighed and picked at his food.
When someone sat down across from him, he assumed it was Willie until the person made a noise of distaste.
"What is that?" Tim asked, pointing at his plate.
"Ceviche."
Tim's nose scrunched in the most adorable way, but Matt refused to be taken in by it today. He wasn't quite ready to forgive and forget yet.
They were both silent for a long moment until Tim cleared his throat. "I'm sorry for saying what I said and making you feel like you couldn't help. I don't want us to start this on a bad note."
Matt frowned but nodded. "I don't want that either, but I need for you to understand that I'm not helpless. I may do things a little differently or a little slower, but I can still do them."
"I know." Tim reached his hand out across the table and turned it palm up. "I would just hate to see you get hurt, and I don't mean that in the way where it's your fault. The movers were hurrying around and not paying much attention to where they were going, and it just felt completely out of my control. I was actually relieved when I realized that you were back in the bedroom."
Matt couldn't help but puff his chest out a little. "You don't need to worry about me."
"I'm always going to worry. I don't think I can turn that part of myself off."
Matt bit his lip and hesitantly placed his hand inside of Tim's, feeling better when familiar, warm fingers closed over his. "I'm sorry for making you feel guilty and for making you worry."
"It's okay." Tim rubbed his thumb across Matt's knuckles. "Forgive me?"
"Only if you forgive me."
"It's a deal then." Tim tugged Matt closer and leaned across the table to give him a kiss.
A throat cleared beside the table, and they broke apart to see Willie standing there, holding a plate of pasta and a bottle of Chardonnay. He set the pasta in front of Tim and poured two glasses of wine.
"Thank you," Matt said, giving his friend a bright smile.
"Glad to see things are okay over here."
~End
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Art Credit: Banner by kanarek13