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After five years of being together, Casey had become a pretty good judge of his boyfriend. They weren’t the hearts and flowers type, but rather the comic books and beer type. They didn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day (“Capitalist propaganda, Case”), didn’t go out to fancy restaurants (“I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty good with White Castle”) and were generally an incredibly lowkey couple.
“If I hadn’t seen you two making out with my own eyes, I honestly wouldn’t know you were together,” Stokes says one afternoon as they’re lounging in her and Stan’s apartment.
Casey rolls his eyes and steals a Pringle. “We all can’t be as sickeningly sweet as you and Stan.”
Stokes flips him the bird. “Graduation soon,” she says, absently.
Sometimes Casey is still shocked Zeke stuck it out all four years. Stokes didn’t go, has been working at a Manic Panic hair salon, giving people funky color and cuts. Stan didn’t either, got into construction instead. The two of them have been living adult lives with rent and bills while Casey and Zeke have been in dorm rooms, making out and studying, taking pictures and playing football.
“Yeah,” is all Casey says, suddenly terrified.
________________________
Zeke has been acting weird in the week leading up to graduation, and Casey’s ill feeling intensifies. Maybe it’s the realization that he stills feels like a kid, and now he’s going to face Life, capital L and he’s kind of wondering where that leaves the two of them.
Maybe they’re really only together in this controlled environment. Maybe they exist in a University bubble and it’s about to pop. Zeke’s behavior isn’t helping dissuade Casey of that notion. He’s been -- well, sweet, honestly. Casey feels like a heel thinking of his boyfriend’s nice behavior as a warning sign. It’s not like Zeke is an asshole. He lets Casey know how much he means to him in a ton of different ways, and they have a fucking blast together. But he’s also not soft, always has some sort of wall up to a degree. The past few days though, he’s been smiling softly at Casey, packing his lunch for him, helping him study; it’s fucking strange. Casey really hopes there isn’t another alien invasion on the horizon because honestly, he’d just like to graduate college without incident.
Casey comes back from his last final to find Zeke in his dorm room already. He looks like he’s about to throw up.
“Hey, man. You alright?” Casey steps in close, checks his forehead.
Zeke snorts, capturing his hand and -- christ, raising it to his lips to kiss? Casey’s got to be in the twilight zone. “I’m fine, mom. I just -- let’s go out tonight?”
Casey squints at him. “Okay? The new Matrix just came out, we can--”
“Actually, I already made reservations at a restaurant.”
Casey blinks at him. “You know how to do that?”
“It ain’t exactly rocket science, genius.” Zeke’s scowl makes Casey grin.
“The fact that you even know a restaurant that takes reservations is…”
Zeke shuts him up with a kiss, but Casey’s mind is reeling. The uneasiness in the pit of his stomach is back tenfold.
Casey tries to tell himself it’s a celebratory dinner for their upcoming graduation, as he changes into something that isn’t a flannel shirt and baggy jeans for the italian joint they’re going to. It doesn’t work, Casey is close to a panic attack as Zeke drives them into town.
He’s breaking up with me, he’s breaking up with me, he’s breaking up with me, is the soundtrack in Casey’s head the entire car ride. It doesn’t help that Zeke isn’t filling the silence, his hands tapping nervously on the steering wheel.
By the time they’re walking into the restaurant, Casey is feeling like a death row inmate.
Zeke shoots him uneasy smiles and stumbles over the wine list. Casey’s stomach tightens further.
They’re alone with their wine when Zeke finally speaks. “So uh, Case. There’s something I want to. I mean, I’ve been thinking a lot lately and--”
Casey can’t take it anymore. “Yeah, no. I mean, it’s stupid right? Us? Whoever thought we’d be a thing and the fact that we’ve lasted this long... it’s. I get it, man.”
Zeke’s mouth is hanging open by the time Casey’s finished his rapid babbling. Before he can respond, the waiter is back to take their order.
“I think we need another minute,” Zeke says tightly, eyes never leaving Casey.
The waiter backs away like he knows he’s stepped into a “moment.”
“So,” Zeke says, one eyebrow arched at Casey. “You seem to believe I’m breaking up with you.”
Casey winces. He really never wanted to hear the word “breakup” fall from Zeke’s lips in this lifetime. “You’ve been acting really weird.”
“I’ve been treating you like a friggin’ king all week!”
“Exactly!”
Zeke huffs out an annoyed breath and takes a sip of wine, making a face after he swallows. “I fucking ordered this shitty wine for you.”
“I never told you to,” Casey replies, petulant. Really, who wants to be wined and dined and dumped?
When he looks back up at Zeke, there’s -- wow, a lot of emotion in his eyes.
“Jesus christ, Casey, I’m not breaking up with you. I’m trying to ask you to move in with me.”
It’s Casey’s turn to gape like a fish. “You -- wait, what?”
Zeke huffs again, shaking his head. “I’ve been talking with Stan and apparently they’ve got a vacant apartment in their building. It’s pretty darn cheap and Stan’s put in a good word with his landlord. I know we haven’t really talked about what we’re doing after graduation, but there’s no fucking way I’m moving back home and -- well. I want to. You know, live with you.”
He mumbles the last part, embarrassed, and Casey’s heart flutters.
Zeke’s making himself vulnerable. By asking this question, by this dinner, by everything he’s done for Casey this week. He’s been wearing his heart on his sleeve and Casey, moron that he is, couldn’t even see it. So much for being a good judge when it came to his boyfriend, too blinded by his own damn insecurity to recognize Zeke’s.
They were so different, yet exactly the same.
“I really fucking want to live with you, too.”
Zeke cuts his gaze to Casey, eyes bright in the candlelight. “Yeah?”
Casey nods, daring to reach over and grip his hand. He’s rewarded by an immediate squeeze. “I’m sorry I thought you’d been taken over by aliens. Um, again.”
Zeke barks out a laugh. “You what? Christ, Connor, you’re something else.”
“You love me, though,” Casey says seriously. And he knows it, of course he does. But they also don’t say it a lot.
“Yeah,” Zeke breathes. “I do. So how about we blow this joint, grab some White Castle, and fuck in the backseat of my car to celebrate our descent into domesticity.”
Casey laughs loudly, turning more than a few heads, before pulling Zeke up with him.
Casey’s absolutely not wrong in his judgement of his boyfriend in this moment. Because the guy grinning at him as they run out of a 4-star restaurant and into the rain? Is absolutely Zeke.
And Casey can’t wait for them to embark on this next adventure. Together.
The End.