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Roman stood on the doorway to a place he’d never been, coming up with a million excuses to run away. His mind was a turbulent of fear, a raging storm of regret, disillusionment hanging heavy. Roman had never been the type to be buckled down by fear; he’d always considered himself so very brave.
He didn’t feel that way now.
Now he was frightened, so much he found himself trembling, his heart beating hard and fast. Sweat formed on his brow and he clenched his fist so tight it pained him. Roman felt like he might go out of his mind, shuffling about on the doorstep of someone who for three years had been a silent stranger to him. He was hurting, in such a tremendous pain he knew the only way he could ease the ache of his heart was to do what he’d set out to do. Why then, he pondered, did it have to be so damned difficult?
You’re a coward. A fucking coward, Roman thought to himself bitterly, just as bitter as he had felt for such a long time. he didn’t want to feel this way anymore. He didn’t want to lie awake at night staring up at the ceiling unable to sleep, dreaming of what once was. He didn’t want to feel so empty anymore, so incomplete. He wanted to be brave again.
It an agonizingly long time before he finally mustered up the courage to rap on the door, shifting in place as he heard movement in the small house. He bit his lip, finding himself trying to fix a few stay hairs and smooth over his coat. He hoped, silently, that his sleeplessness wasn’t all too apparent, prayed that he looked presentable. Handsome, even. Roman had never had to pray for such things before. It used to come naturally, confidence he now longed to have again.
Roman felt the air vacate his lungs as the door creaked open all too slowly and the man he had missed ever so much stepped into the sun, looking just as gorgeous as Roman had recalled him being.
At first, there was confusion, a look of misunderstanding as to why someone who wasn’t a mailman or door-to-door salesman standing on his doorstep before there was a pure, raw moment of remembrance, his mouth forming a trembling ‘o’ and eyes shining with nostalgia. The nostalgia was quickly replaced with fear.
“R-Roman…?” Logan’s voice croaked out as he adjusted his glasses and then his tie – a tick of Logan’s that Roman remembered well.
“Yeah, i-it’s me. Hello, pocket-protector. Long time no see.” Roman tried to be suave, attempted to seem unfazed by the too long stretch of time it had been since they’d last seen each other, as well as the fact that their last encounter was such a dreadful memory, but he found himself unable, the crack in his voice betraying how nervous he really felt. It hurt, being so exposed, especially after living securely behind a mask of confidence for so long. Who was he kidding, though? Logan had seen past his disguise ages ago; maybe that was what made it that much scarier.
Logan looked just about the same. He had on the same pair of spectacles, his hair was still parted the same way. He still had on a tie, even though he’d been home on a Saturday afternoon, not that he’d ever been one for casual clothing. He had on a blue button-up shirt with brown khakis, though Roman could see that he was wearing a pair of socks with a robot print, an amusing reminder that there had always been some silliness hiding behind the stiffness. Overall, Logan looked much the same as he had, except there was one feature he portrayed that burned through the sheets of ice Roman had thought could protect his now fragile heart, melting them and leaving him raw: Logan looked tragically sad.
“What…what’re you doing here? How did you even find out where I resided?” Logan spoke slowly, methodically, too slow Roman decided. The question was off-putting, though understandable. He supposed it just made things that much more real. This would be the beginning of something frightening and he wasn’t all that sure he was ready.
“Roman?” the repeat of his name snapped Roman out of his haze, enough for him to realize that he’d been standing there like an idiot, staring at Logan, not saying anything. He shook his head, silently cursing himself as he regained the ability to speak.
“UH-sorry. Sorry. I blanked for a moment there. Patton and Virgil told me where you were living. I came…well I came because I wanted to speak with you.” All Roman could dully think was ‘Great job, your massive idiot’ as Logan shot him a skeptical look before speaking.
“Ah…I didn’t know what you were still in contact with them. They haven’t spoken of you in some time.” Roman felt his heart clench.
“Really? Because they speak about you all the time,” Roman muttered quietly. Logan cleared his throat, his hands sliding into his front pockets.
“Oh, that’s interesting to be aware of,” he said, a strange discomfort taking hold. “So…you say you wanted to talk? What about? Why didn’t you just call?” Roman bit his lip, feeling himself beginning to shudder once again before speaking through the anxiety.
“Well, I must confess, it’s a conversation of much importance, one that wouldn’t be right on the phone…and it…could take some time. I – well, I know it’s been a long, long while since we’ve last spoken but would you like to go someplace to talk? Are you busy?” Logan’s jaw slackened, his eyes shimmering for a moment with unwavering fear and a reminder of an icy piercing pain that had severed their bond years ago. A second later they gleam was dulled, that look of child-like panic disappearing.
“Roman…I don’t understand what you’re doing here.” Ah. There it was, the reminder of just how blunt Logan could be. For a moment the statement punched the wind from Roman’s lungs, his veins freezing over before he caught hold of the tail of his bravery he had once so relied on, trying to fly away.
“Listen, please,” and god, there was a rawness to the way Roman spoke, the way he leaned against the side of the house, the brick rough against his hand planted there, “I’ve missed you for…for a long time. I’ve missed you so much, Logan.”
The desperate quiver of Roman’s voice surprised Logan. He’d only ever heard him sound so fidgetingly once before: the night they broke apart. He truly didn’t think he’d ever hear that voice again or see Roman at all really. But now he was standing here, wounded and frightened and pouring out a bleeding-heart pulsating with feelings he had wished and prayed could go away. This was terrifying. Because despite what he’d told himself, he missed Roman just as fiercely.
“This was an unwise decision, you coming here. I-I think you should go.” Logan spoke quickly, his voice trembling against his will. He wished to be stronger in this moment, to have the will to permanently push him out of his life for good. But seeing Roman standing there with wide sorrowful eyes he knew he would befall a cowardly fate, far too weak to avoid giving in.
“Logan –.”
“Please, Roman,” Logan spoke uneasily, “You must understand this is highly irregular. We haven’t spoken in ages and you what? Just show up on my doorstep telling me you missed my company? I just don’t under-.”
“Logan, please. Please, just… I need to talk to you. I don’t mean to beg, but…” Roman paused, sucking in a wavering breath, “but I will, if it means you’ll let me explain myself.” Logan bit his lip, his hands clenched as he stared into Roman’s burning eyes, nearly brimming with tears already. It’s a hard thing to see, even for Logan, and he’s pissed that that’s all it takes to crack him open.
“Fine... Goddamn you, Roman,” – the second half of that was muttered through gritted teeth – “Come in. Let’s talk if it gets this over with.” Logan let out a grunt, his fists noticeably clenched as he disappeared inside of the domicile, leaving a weakened Roman to trail behind.
Logan’s home was about as minimalistic as Roman might have expected. There wasn’t a lot of clutter, the home having a very open and flowy floor plan and the furniture was clean with a somewhat modern flair. It was nothing like their old place, and that in itself made something twist inside of Roman. It made him sick. Logan was seated at a dining room table, a chair already pulled out for Roman. Roman hesitated for a moment, feeling cold inside, his hands fumbling at his sides, Logan looking unamused. He tried his best to push past that, pulling his bravest face as he sat down across from his former lover, building himself up for what could be a death sentence.
“Okay, Roman,” Logan said after a long, awful moment of silence, his hands folded on the table in front of him and eyes trained carefully on his ex-boyfriend, “Please, do proceed with what you wanted to discuss. I am, as they say, “all ears”.” Roman felt heat rise to his skin from his neck all the way to the tips of his ears, the way Logan’s eyes brushed over him and all of his mistakes and insecurities sending a shiver down his spine. It made him nervous – well, more nervous.
“Right,” he cleared his throat, trying to collect himself slightly, “Okay. Okay. …okay.”
“Roman, you can stop saying okay,” Logan chided, in either annoyance or fear of what Roman will say, it was hard to discern between which, “I understand that you’re nervous, but please, do go on.” Roman’s cheeks flush a bright hue and he was angry again because he really thought he’d be at least a little better than this. He couldn’t even argue back that he wasn’t nervous. That won’t work anymore.
“R-right – sorry.” His eyes are directed at the floor before they meet Logan’s expectant ones, sending a chill down his spine. He takes a deep breath. And then another before he’s composed enough to speak. “There were so many times where I almost called. Too many to count. Every single time I picked up the phone I intended on calling you and asking for another shot. I wanted to tell you that it was too hard without you, and I missed you reading beside me in bed at two in the morning when you couldn’t sleep – even if you turning on the lamp so late was irritating. But…but it wasn’t, not really. Because you were next to me, and you didn’t push me away when I held you. I…I wanted to tell you that I never did find another man who was as smart as you. Or as kind, no matter what kind of…of cruel things, I spat at you. No matter how many times w-we hurt each other. You’re so good, Logan. S-so fucking good.”
Roman’s eyes were glossy now, his lip trembling as he looked into Logan’s wide, frightened eyes. He looked almost as afraid as Roman was. Logan swallowed hard.
“R-Roman –.”
“Logan – I – I wanted to find someone, anyone, who would understand me and who I could love and settle down with, so I could be happy but…but I’m not happy. I haven’t been happy for three god-damned years, because you’ve been out of my life. And I tried, and I tried to fill the void but I just…couldn’t. No one in this world understands me the way that you do. I…I miss you, Logan. I really, really miss you…”
Logan’s mouth went dry, jaw slackening. For a moment he tried to speak, opening his mouth but nothing came out. His eyes were wide, and his hands were shaking all of a sudden – no, not just his hands, all of Logan was trembling. He wanted to tell Roman he was being ridiculous, that it was incredibly rude, Roman coming to him after an entire three years with virtually no contact. There was a lot he wanted to do or to believe, but then why did Roman’s words evoke such emotion in him? Why was his chest burning so strongly it felt and though a fire had sparked in his heart, liable to burn him from the inside out?
“Logan?” Logan snapped back to reality, gasping as he felt dampness on his cheek; tears, he concluded bitterly. He hadn’t cried in such a long time, hadn’t allowed himself to but now he was in front of Roman of all people. He hadn’t intended to cry.
“I…I apologize,” Logan tried to say calmly, a sob instead deciding to seep its way into his voice, making him feel all the worse, “I…I didn’t mean to have a-an emotional outburst. I…I don’t k-know where this is coming from…” He heard the chair being pushed back from the table and the sound of Roman walking towards him slowly, hesitantly, but he couldn’t look at him. Not like this. Roman, awkward as it was, bent down and wrapped his arms around a still-seated Logan who shuddered at the touch.
“Roman – no. N-no. We can’t…no.” Logan didn’t need to elaborate, Roman got the gist of it. Logan pushed himself away, standing up and wiping his eyes, despite the fact that the tears were still tumbling down his reddened cheeks.
“Logan have…have you been happy? Lately, I mean. Is there anyone you’re with now? I…well maybe I should have asked that first but, you know, it wasn’t my first thought, I guess. Is there someone in your life?” Logan took a step back, arms crossed over his chest.
“No. N-not presently.” Roman didn’t want that answer to bring him as much joy as it did.
“But, like I asked before, are you happy?”
“That’s…that isn’t important,” Logan mumbled.
“It is important, though. It’s important to me.”
“Why?” Logan’s voice wavered with sorrow, his eyes squeezed closed for a moment, “Why in the world would that be important to you now. We’ve moved on, we’ve grown up. Grown apart. We-we don’t need each other anymore…”
“We’ve moved on? Really?” Roman didn’t mean to sound so irritated. Mostly, he was angry at himself for letting time go by without doing anything for so long. But he was also slightly – well, maybe a tad more than slightly – irritated with Logan’s stubborn-nature. In all fairness, though, he was probably just as stubborn. “It doesn’t look like either of us have moved on to me.”
“Roman,” Logan said, voice clearer than it was a moment ago, though only slightly, as if he had only momentarily gotten a grip on himself again, “I don’t know what you’re aiming at, whatever it is you won’t get it. Not here. Nothing you can say will change that.”
“I’m still in love with you.” As it turned out, Logan had lied. Because whether or not he wanted to admit it, that single sentence shook Logan to his very core. He gripped the table as hard as he could, trying to remain standing as Roman stared him down, looking just as broken.
“No. No – no you aren’t. It isn’t…”
“It is true, Logan, I assure you,” Roman said, and now he was crying too. “I haven’t stopped loving you. Not once. N-no matter how much I wanted to or tried to, I couldn’t ever let you go. You always seem to wander back into my mind and I realized recently that…that I don’t want you to leave it. I want you in my mind, I want you in my life. You mean the world to me, you always have. We can make it work – I-I know we can!”
“No, you c-can’t do that! You-you can’t just tell me you’ve always loved me and make everything alright! Goddamn you, Roman, we aren’t in one of your beloved fantasy movies. I-it doesn’t work. We…we don’t work.”
“Yes. Yes, we do.”
“No!” Logan practically screamed, “We’ll go b-back to how things were! We’ll fight, we’ll b-be cruel to one another a-and then we’ll break u-up again, and w-we’ll hurt again. I-it isn’t worth it, and it doesn’t matter if you love me and I still love you because…” Logan didn’t finish. Roman’s eyes widened, and he realized dumbly that he’d actually admitted it.
“You...still love me?” Logan bilked, the tears returning to his eyes.
“I-I…” Before he could say anymore he was engulfed in Roman’s embrace, burying his face into his neck and letting out a hard sob.
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It was evening now, nearly midnight when Logan woke up, his head resting in Roman’s lap on the sofa, the amount of emotion pounding onto his body presently suffocating.
“Hey, nerd,” Roman said quietly, affectionately running a hand through Logan’s hair slightly ruffled from sleep. The living room was very dark, the only light being the one coming from the kitchen that had been left on.
To say the very least, it had been quite the day for both of them.
Logan had lost his sense self-preservation the moment Roman announced he still harbored romantic feelings for him. Despite how much he tried to fight it and hold himself together, he’d fallen apart, the stress unraveling him. Logan couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried like that. All the while he did so, Roman held him like he was now, combing through his hair and speaking more affectionately than Logan had heard in such a long time, every once in a while planting a quick kiss to his cheek. Logan hated how he relished in the feeling. He’d fallen asleep after some time in Roman’s lap, exhausted emotionally, and was surprised to find Roman hadn’t moved from the spot.
“Hello, Roman,” Logan said clearing his throat, voice gritty and overtired as he sat up and fixed his askew glasses though he could barely see in the darkness. “I’m so sorry to keep you up so late. You were by no means obligated to stay so long…”
“I wanted to stay,” Roman clarified, leaning so their shoulders bumped. “I needed to know that you were okay.” Logan sighed, glad the darkness didn’t allow much of him to be seen.
“I’m – I’ll be fine. Just tired. I didn’t mean to be so…so….” Logan bit his lip, searching for the words.
“Hey, it’s okay. You weren’t “being” anything. I overwhelmed you, I’m – well I’m sorry about that. Can we…talk about it? If you’re feeling up to it.” Logan sighed, thinking for a moment about all that had happened before sighing again, deciding it was probably too important to be ignored any further.
“If you would like.” Even in the dark Logan could see how Roman beamed.
“Okay,” Roman said determined, turning on the lamp beside him. Logan felt self-conscious in the light, that all of him, too much of him, could be seen. He distanced himself from Roman slightly, eye contact taking a moment.
“So…we still love each other,” Roman said, which was now clearly obvious. Logan didn’t know what else to do but nod. “Logan, I’ve missed you so much. I can’t believe how good it is to see you again, or that I didn’t come sooner. Wish I had, that might’ve saved us some time. I was just so…”
“…scared,” Logan finished Roman’s sentence, though it’s clear that’s how they both felt. Roman sighed.
“Yeah. God, I practically fell apart before I even knocked on the door.” Logan’s face twisted into a frown.
“Well, I did fall apart…” Immediately, Roman moved closer so he could put his arms around Logan and hold him against him. Logan didn’t flinch this time.
“It’s okay. It’s going to be alright,” Roman whispered, daring to cup Logan’s face in his hands.
“But…what if it isn’t? What if things fall apart again? What if we fight again and we get upset and –.”
“Hey, don’t get so worked up, pocket protector,” Roman chides, “You sound like Virgil.” It’s strange, hearing Roman speak about a mutual friend they haven’t both spent time with in so long.
“Sorry…”
“Don’t worry about it. Logan I…I don’t know if things will work out. Not for sure. But…I have hope. I’ve felt like such a coward for so long –.”
“You aren’t a coward, Roman.”
“But I have been. You’re all I’ve wanted for so long, but I was afraid. Being with you, though, I’m already feeling braver. I’m hopeful, Logan. Really hopeful. I think we could make it work.”
“And if things don’t?” Roman sighed.
“Then we move on from there. I – we need to try. I just want to be happy again. I want you to be happy. Will you try, Logan?”
Logan’s heart beat fast, a breath held as he stared into Roman’s hazel eyes that shimmered with the very hope he spoke of. Logan was afraid, terribly afraid, and he knew that this could end very poorly. They’d fought, they’d been horrible to each other in the past. But this wasn’t the past, this was now. And, finally, Logan decided he didn’t want to be alone anymore.
“I’ll try, Roman,” he said quietly. A soft, thankful smile spread across Roman’s face as he leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to Logan’s lips, cupping his face in his hands. Logan, after a second, closed his eyes and kissed back. He too, for the first time in a long time, was filled with hope.
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