Work Text:
This is two men in a swimming pool. The one holds the other and says,
Are you okay
Over and over and over, hands on cheeks, hands in hair.
This is two men with red dots playing over their chests in the dim light. Their hearts beat faster in that not good way, adrenaline and veins rushing and what not.
This is him and him, leaning against the tile while their breathing returns to a steady sort of rhythm, no more kick-drum heart beats but the ocean waves instead. No more tidal waves, just the water and sand. They don’t look at each other and the one says,
Thank you. What you offered to do back then.
The other says,
Good thing nobody was around.
This is just how it goes.
It’s always,
I’m not his date.
We’re not together.
I’m his colleague, not his friend.
It’s always distance.
It’s the one turning his back on the other, folding in on himself,
hands to mouth like prayer without faith.
The other leaves and the one wonders why.