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Mac looks Dennis up and down.
He's still wearing that stupid outfit. Obviously, the duster makes any look ten times better, but wearing any jacket without a shirt underneath is just a questionable fashion choice. It either really works, or really doesn't. The problem is that Mac can't decide for the life of him which one applies to Dennis.
Then again, it seems that, lately, the status of their relationship is constantly in flux.
One day is knowing glances and small unconscious touches, falling asleep next to each other and not talking about it in the morning. The next is arguments and declarations of hatred, jabs at Mac's personality or beliefs or ignorance. Often, though, usually when they're alone, he looks at Dennis and a soft peacefulness washes through him that he only feels when they're together.
And Mac's urge to protect him grows stronger every time Dennis hurts. When he talks so casually about starving himself or not being able to feel anything or has a bad day and forgets to take his meds. When it's 3am and he cries himself to sleep in Mac's arms. Mac sometimes thinks that God put him on earth to watch out for Dennis. And he hasn't always been good at it. Hell, he's not sure if he's ever been good at it. But he tries so goddamn hard. Because for as long as he can remember, Dennis's pain affects him as much as his own. Maybe more.
The sheer scope of how much he cares about this ridiculous, terrifying, amazing mess of a person scares him. Because the caring has evolved into something deeper, more complicated and confusing. He spends hours longing to touch Dennis, to hold his hand, be close to him. Being next to him feels right. He dreams about kissing him, and when he wakes up, he still wants to. Dennis makes him so angry sometimes, but even the anger comes from a place of caring. He isn't quite sure how or when this all became so different. Maybe it wasn't one moment that changed everything. Maybe it was just a lifetime of caring for him, of knowing him, a realization that being without him just isn't an option, not after all they've been through.
And now he's staring at Dennis, in this stupid outfit after trying to pull some ridiculous scheme, and still feeling just as exasperated and taken with him as he would any other day. It's just been made even more blatant by the dreams.
His mind is working against him, forcing him to come face-to-face with the truth: he loves Dennis. More than he should. More than a best friend does. And Mac wants more than anything in the world to be able to show Dennis how much he loves him. He just isn't sure how to do it. Maybe his love is just too powerful and badass to be limited by words. Maybe it's better that way.
He must be staring, because suddenly Dennis is next to him, interrupting his train of thought.
"I gotta say, Mac, this has been going on for a while, even for you. Am I really that distracting?" A stupid smirk plays on his lips.
He feigns irritation.
"Damn it, Dennis, I was thinking!"
"Well, stop it. Come on, let's go back to the bar, get some drinks." He grabs Mac's arm and starts to pull him towards the door, and suddenly Mac's heart is in his throat. He isn't sure what he wants to say but he has to say something.
"I've been having dreams about you."
Dennis pauses, his excitement morphing into a look of confusion. His eyes search Mac's face for a minute, narrowed.
"Huh," he answers slowly. "Well, we can still make it to the bar before closing if we--"
"Dennis!"
"What, Mac? What? Are we really going to talk about this right now?"
"What do you mean? Yes!"
"Come on, Mac. What is there to talk about? My gay best friend is dreaming about me. So what?"
"This is affecting my life, Dennis!"
"Well, stop letting it. Live in the now. And right now, you're coming out to get drinks with me." He turns back to the door.
Mac grabs his shoulder and swings him around.
"Dennis, let me talk. All you do is deflect shit all the time! This time just don't talk at all. Just listen. For once in your life, just listen to what I'm saying."
Dennis's eyes widen. He sets his mouth in a thin line and nods curtly.
"Okay."
"It's not like this is the first time. It's just that I'm out now and before I could just make excuses but now I can't. There's really no excuse, is there? It's not a coincidence anymore, it's happening. And I can't just explain it away. And it's terrifying."
His heart is pounding a mile a minute.
Dennis blinks, nods in acknowledgement. Takes a deep breath.
"Why?"
Mac's suddenly confused.
"Why what? There's no way to know why I'm having dreams."
"Why is it terrifying?"
He's never asked himself that question before.
"I don't know...maybe because it means something now? That it didn't before."
"Who says it needs to mean something?"
Mac's heart breaks a little.
"I guess I do."
"So, you want it to mean something?
"Yeah...I do."
"And that's what's scary."
It isn't a question. Things are slowly starting to make sense. Suddenly, he isn't sure if he wants them to.
"Yeah."
"So, how do we make it less scary?"
"How the hell am I supposed to know?"
"Well, they're your dreams, aren't they?"
His eyes are intense, and his expression is earnest. Everything about it is telling Mac that this is his moment.
"I need to know how it feels."
"Hm? How what feels?"
He steps forward, grabbing the front of Dennis's shirt and pulling him into a kiss. Their lips smash together, rough and messy. Dennis gasps against him as they connect. His lips are soft and suddenly his hands are on Mac's face. The feeling is more intense yet more gentle than anything Mac could have imagined. Gone is the glossy, fake, too-perfect kiss of his dreams, but this is better. He can smell Dennis's cologne, and taste his stupid lip balm and feel the tiniest bit of stubble against his own. Even though Dennis is warm, his hands are freezing, and he's leaning in so far that he's nearly knocking Mac over.
He pulls back, trembling with excitement and adrenaline. Dennis looks equally shocked and awed.
"Was it...good?" He asks lamely.
Mac laughs, a high of happiness washing over him.
"Dude, it was...it was perfect."
Dennis's concerned expression fades, softens into something Mac hasn't seen in him for a long time. He smiles a little.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."