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This couldn’t be happening. This really fucking couldn’t be happening.
Stensland’s heartbeat picked up once he saw the shoulder-length dark hair, proceeded straight to racing when he turned to profile, his mustache and goatee confirming his identity, as did the black mechanical arm that pushed the red shopping cart along.
He really should have moved those four months ago.
Or maybe just not gone shopping today.
But he was not a coward. No, he was a beautiful condor and he would not let seeing Clyde ruin his grocery shopping. He did, however, immediately dart down the next aisle, making sure he wasn’t seen and crouched behind his cart.
He was a big, beautiful condor and here he was, hiding, because he was terrified of seeing his ex. He shouldn’t be terrified, after all, he was the one that left Clyde, not the other way around, and yet...and yet…
“Having fun there, Stens?”
He felt like he jumped about ten feet in the air--in reality only an inch or two--but still he scrambled up, barely avoiding hitting his head on the cart in his haste, suddenly afraid because he knew that voice. That voice belonged to a man that always scared him, always made him feel like maybe he was doing something wrong.
Jimmy Logan.
Stensland turned toward him, flinching at the glare in his eyes, at his less than happy expression. The man had always been a little terrifying to him. Just as tall as he himself was, but still bigger, thicker, much more muscular than he was, his slow, deep voice easily to mistake as being unintelligent, but quite the opposite; Stens had been scared of Jimmy for as long as he’d known him.
“Jimmy. What a surprise to see you here.” His laugh was nervous, half forced, sure to sound as uncomfortable as he felt, as his lips felt as they stretched into some semblance of a smile.
“Yeah, fancy that.” Another flinch. Jimmy’s tone was flat, unamused. He wondered how much he knew about the break up, how much Clyde had revealed to his brother about them, how much murderous intent was directed at him.
“Well it was nice catching up. I have to buy…” Stens suddenly realized what aisle he was in. Tampons lined the shelf to the right, pads to the left. Fuck. “Uhm. Lube. That’s what I needed.” He tried to ignore the bright red blush he felt creeping up his face, just glad that there was something down the aisle he could buy without it seeming too odd. And maybe, just maybe, part of it was not wanting to seem like he was in a relationship with someone else, like everything else in this aisle might. Not that it made him feel any better about grabbing lube in front of his ex’s brother. It was embarrassing no matter how you spun it.
There was a pause as Jimmy looked him over. Stens wanted to melt in the floor right then and there. Why did all of this have to happen to him? Why did he have to say he was buying lube, have to say he was buying something in this aisle, have to have ducked down this aisle, have to have seen his ex….have to have broken up with him in the first place?
That was the root of the problem, wasn’t it?
“Right.”
“Well Jimmy. Nice seeing you.” Face burning, Stensland pushed his shopping cart past the man, who stood aside for him with a poorly concealed, lazy grin. Of course he was laughing at him; Jimmy had always had the air of amusement around him, like he was funny, somehow, though he wasn’t trying to be. It was irritating, but he figured that’s just how Jimmy was.
Then, as if the world hadn’t shit on him enough in these few minutes at the store, came a voice Stensland really wished he didn’t hear, especially as he was just reaching for the lube (after all, he wasn’t going to back down on the fact that he’d said he was going to buy it).
“Jimmy, what on earth are yo--Stensland?”
Even after knowing Clyde was here for several minutes, he was still a swirl of emotions, fighting each other for prominence within him. Embarrassment was currently winning, however, as he quickly dropped his hand, face burning, knowing it still didn’t look good, standing in front of the display of condoms and lube. But the regret and...that other feeling battled hard against it, bubbling up within him even as he tried to bury it down once more.
“Hey Clyde.” His voice was soft, unsure of what to say, what he could say. There weren’t any words that could truly convey his feelings about all this, about the feelings he wanted to put words to, but couldn’t. Not here, not now. Maybe not ever. He didn’t deserve to, anyway, especially now with how Clyde was looking at him, managing to look both surprised and wounded, his big eyes as expressive as always, causing his heart to clench, hating that he caused this expression.
“Stens...land.”
A wince when Clyde refused to use his nickname. He’d always used it before, preferring it to the long version of his name, easier to say, to murmur out between kisses. But now...months since the last time they saw each other, with Clyde constantly repeating his name...now it was back to Stensland, though he did make a note of the pause between syllables, as if he weren’t used to saying it like that.
He opened his mouth to reply, but was hit with the sudden realization he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t face Clyde, not like this, not when he felt the entire volume of his regrets bubbling up inside him, threatening to spill out in the middle of a Target. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to ever talk to him like nothing was wrong, like everything was okay, but he definitely couldn’t risk something going wrong here.
Stensland ran.
Perhaps it was cowardly, not at all what a condor would do, but he had to, with words he may end up regretting more than his past actions pushing against his throat, the back of his mouth, straining to erupt, to tell Clyde everything.
He couldn’t risk the heartbreak.
Pushing past Jimmy and Clyde, the former still looking amused, the latter wearing his expression of shock and hurt--Stensland still trying to ignore that, trying not to be so affected by it, even as he fled--he quickly got out of the aisle, abandoning his cart, making his way for the exit. He ignored the sounds he heard behind him, sure it was just the two of them complaining about him. Stensland couldn’t quite blame them; he’d complain about himself too, witnessing the disaster he just was.
Luckily it wasn’t a long walk to the doors, and he pushed his way through them--impatient to get outside, get away , not wanting to use the automatic one--his breathing much harder than he would like. Even the fresh air of the outside wasn’t helping much; he still felt stifled, overhot, still on the edge of a breakdown.
“Stensland!”
Whipping around in surprise, he couldn’t help the slack expression that was sure to take over upon seeing Clyde coming out of the store behind him. It still hurt, in a way, hearing his full name in that voice, but his surprise, his elation, that hopefulness he wanted to squish down but couldn’t , was more prominent.
“Clyde?” God, Stens hated how that sounded in his head, so pitiful, but this was all suddenly everything he’d wanted that night, what he had wished had happened as he looked back at the house behind him, tears streaking down his cheeks.
But that was then.
Now, Clyde seemed annoyed, still sad, still a little like the rug was swept out from under him, but the downward draw of his eyebrows said he was a bit more pissed off than hurt at the moment as he stomped towards him.
What a few months of no contact could do, he supposed. Stensland had, after all, somewhat intended for that to happen, hadn’t he? Pushed Clyde as far away as he could, trying to make him hate him, despise him, anything but... that.
That word, that feeling, even after these months, still threatened him, still crept up on him, making him want to forget his resolve, forget he had been trying to get away from all of this, from Clyde.
Apparently he hadn’t been trying hard enough. Stensland really should have moved.
“What the hell, Stensland?” Clyde’s voice was angrier than he’d ever heard it before, but still not nearly as angry as he’d heard other people, people like Grady. He tried not to cower in the face of it, hurting that this was happening, that Clyde , of all people, was angry at him. Clyde, who, despite his record, was hardly the type you’d call an angry person.
Yet here he was, anger seeming to spill out of him, chest heaving...stuttering…
Stensland forced himself to look at Clyde’s face again.
The anger there had crumpled into despair, hurting, holding back tears. “You can’t….you can’t just fucking act like that…”
It tore at him, the pain the other obviously felt, pulling at him, threatening to tear away those small walls he’d tried to build up. “Clyde…”
“No!” A snap of anger again. “You don’t fuckin’ get to say that, to do anything! You.” Clyde made a wild gesture towards him with a seemingly frustrated sound. “You can’t fuckin’ just appear again and act like nothing’s happened. Like you...like you…” he trailed off as he scrubbed a hand over his face.
Tears, unbidden, sprang to his own eyes, threatening his composure, his mask, his poor excuse of a castle to hide within. Stensland swallowed, his breath shaky as he tried to hold it in, tried to keep it all inside, where he wouldn’t be hurt.
Apparently, the water was stronger than the dam.
Stensland felt the hot sting at his eyes before they trickled down his cheeks, slowly at first, before descending into ugly sobs that wracked his body. It was disgustingly easy for him to still descend into this wreck of a person. “Clyde, I,” he hiccupped before daring to look at the other man, who once again seemed surprised, still holding back his own tears. “I didn’t mean...I couldn’t...I…” While never claiming to be great with his words--his failed attempts at picking up people in bars being more than enough proof for that--this was just pathetic, made him want to cringe at his own pathetic attempt to speak.
He was a condor. He could fucking do this.
Except the chatter of a large group of preteens exiting the store behind Clyde rather ruined the moment. Maybe he couldn’t do this, not here.
Stensland took a deep breath.
“Could we meet somewhere? Later? It...it doesn’t have to be now. But I...please, can we talk?”
He could see the struggle in Clyde, his brown eyes communicating his hesitancy, as did the not-so-subtle shifts of his jaw.
“Please.” Stensland wasn’t proud of how his voice cracked over the word, how he was now essentially begging when just moments before he was the one with more composure. However, when he saw Clyde’s face softening, he wouldn’t deny that it had its uses.
“Fine, but I’ll…” Clyde glanced back at the store, obviously keeping a lookout for Jimmy, before facing Stensland again. “I’ll contact you. Don’t...don’t force me.”
Stensland could only nod, sniffling, his body still trembling from the onslaught of too many feelings. He watched as Clyde bit his lip and turned around, heading back into the store, watched as he turned his head back once, meeting Stensland’s gaze, waved with a soft smile, before walking off, obviously to find his brother.
He suppressed another sob, this one tinged with hopefulness, as he turned around to head back home. Who cared about his groceries when maybe, just maybe, things could be alright?