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Tyrell looked thoughtfully at his watch. Tuesday the 3rd, 9:22pm. He was getting nervous. He shouldn't be nervous. It was a normal evening, a normal hook-up with Elliot, like they did so many times before. But as he was gulping too quickly his glass of vodka, he remembered that he was nervous every time he was supposed to see Elliot. Every time he was near him.
That wasn't good.
Two hesitant knocks woke him up from his reveries. Elliot. He knew it was him.
He got up quickly and went to the door to meet his lover. At least, that's how he called him in his head. He'd never said it out loud. He was scared, scared to open up, scared to tell the truth about his feelings, scared to push Elliot away forever, and that was the last thing he wanted.
Tyrell opened the door and found two beautiful eyes looking at him.
"I'm sorry," Elliot said before he could open his mouth. He lowered his head. "I know I'm late. I'm always late."
All Tyrell could do was smile. "Bonsoir, Elliot."
"Buenasera, Tyrell," replied the other with a smirk.
Tyrell raised an eyebrow. "That's new."
"I was tired of you speaking several languages, I had to take measure."
"You speak computer."
The joke was unexpected from him. Vodka wasn't a good idea after all. But Elliot was probably disagreeing because he started to laugh, and Tyrell couldn't get enough of this sound, of his body shaking in laughter, he just wanted to hold him to feel the vibration and share the feeling—
God, he was so in love.
Elliot whipped up his teary eyes. "Ok, ok, fair enough." He looked above Tyrell's shoulder. "So, are you gonna let me in?"
As he did, he thought that Elliot was already all the way in him.
Tuesday the 10th, 9:02pm. Tyrell really should stop looking at the clock like this. It was becoming obsessional.
Two knocks on the door. He would recognize them among many. He almost rushed to open the door. He met a very excited Elliot, not even waiting for Tyrell to invite him in.
"I'm not late!" he almost proudly shouted with glee as he entered, eyes sparkling. "I think that must be the first time!"
He was out of breath, and Tyrell couldn't stop looking.
"Did… did you run to come here?"
"I—" Elliot looked sheepish. "Maybe?"
"Elliot…"
"Let's not talk about that." He started removing his hoodie and made his way to Tyrell's bedroom. "Are you coming?"
Oh yes, he was.
The clock on showed midnight. Tyrell was in bed but couldn't sleep. It was Tuesday the 31st. Hell no, Wednesday now. Where was Elliot?
He waited the entire evening. He even stress-ate and he had never stress-eaten before. He eventually decided to try to go sleep, but even that failed.
He started to recall the previous weeks, trying to spot anything wrong, anything that could have happened. Elliot was getting more and more conformable with him, entering his home without knocking first. He was smiling more. Drinking directly from the bottles of orange juice in the fridge.
It was their time. Tuesday, 9pm. Something simple. The sex was awkward and hesitant at first, but it became something Tyrell would miss, something he would need, feeling Elliot's body against his. Elliot would never spend the night, no matter how many times Tyrell asked him to.
Maybe he had made a mistake. His true feelings were probably showing too much. His face was too bright when he was looking at Elliot. The sweet words in Swedish he was whispering in Elliot's ear when they were climaxing were too real. He clutched him too tight. He loved him too much. Something Elliot could never give him, not to him. And because of that, he left.
Tyrell wished he had been colder with Elliot. Stick to the plan. He shouldn't have bought him a shirt. He shouldn't have caressed his arms as they were lying in bed. He shouldn't have kissed him like he was all it mattered in Tyrell's world.
But he was.
And the loss was unbearable.
Tears on his pillow was all he had left.
Tuesday the 14th. What month was it already? It didn't matter. Not anymore.
It had been so long but Tyrell couldn't stop thinking about Elliot. He was seeing him everywhere. Every damn man with a hoodie was Elliot. He scared so many people this way, grabbing their arms with hope. But none of them were him.
He tried to forget, he tried to move on. He washed the bedsheets several times but they still smelt like him. He fucked men that looked like him. He moved his furnitures because Elliot was always leaning against them when he was talking. In the end, he moved out. That was the only way to forget Elliot.
But it wasn't enough. No, he really couldn't get Elliot out of his mind.
Tuesday the 25th.
It was barely 9pm but Tyrell was already finishing his fourth glass of Vodka. It was his routine now, and it helped him sleep better. He noticed that the nights he wasn't drinking, he wasn't sleeping either. And that wasn't good for his health. Technically, the Vodka wasn't either. But he'd rather drown in alcohol than spend hours thinking about Elliot.
He heard two knocks on the door. He laughed hard and loud. His mind was playing tricks with him. Again.
The doorknob clicked and the door was pushed.
Well that was new.
Elliot came in.
He really should stop drinking.
He was wearing a white shirt and his hair was slightly longer than what Tyrell remembered. Than the image stuck in his mind forever.
It couldn't be really Elliot.
The apparition made two hesitant steps in and closed the door. He looked nervous.
"Buenasera, Tyrell."
Oh fuck.
"E—Elliot?"
"Hi."
They stayed silent for a few moments. Tyrell couldn't believe his eyes. He was still sitting, and didn't think he could stand. After all this time, all the pain he'd been through, all the days he hoped something like this would come—
"Are you really here?"
"Yes."
"Why?" It was all he could say.
"Why am I here? Or why did I leave?"
He didn't answer.
Elliot hugged himself. "I'm sorry," he simply said. "I shouldn't be there, I'm sorry."
He looked so fragile, so sad and desperate that all Tyrell wanted to do was to put his arms around him and hold him close and never let go, not again. But he couldn't do that. His heart would never forgive him if it was all a trick.
"I don't understand."
Elliot took a deep breath. "I got scared. I was so fucking scared, Tyrell. I had to leave you."
That's what he thought, then. He was right. He scared Elliot with his stupid love.
"I loved you so much and I couldn't handle those feelings."
Wait…What?
"Fuck, Tyrell, I wanted to be with you all day long," he continued. "To be close to you. It was hard to leave your warmth before morning, when all I wanted was to watch you sleep and stay by your side."
Elliot was crying now. Tyrell couldn't move. Was he even breathing?
"I— knew that not what you wanted. And I should have left you alone. But I wasn't able to stand it anymore, Tyrell, I just couldn't."
"S-stand it?"
He couldn't believe he managed to talk.
"Being away from you. It was the worst month of my life. I put body and mind to work and… projects I had with my sister. But it wasn't enough. Never enough. So I had to track you down since you moved out. And it took me longer than I thought it would. I must have gotten rusty."
If Tyrell weren't sitting, he would be on his knees. His breathing was fast and irregular, his hands shaking. But Elliot didn't seem to notice through his tears.
"I'm so sorry, Tyrell. I hope you will be able to forgive me one day. I just— I just needed to say the words. And see you one last time."
He started to made his way to the door.
Tyrell couldn't let him disappear. Not again. Not for good.
Finally feeling his legs, he got up. "Wait!"
Elliot stopped dead in his track and looked at him in surprise.
"I need to say something as well." He got closer to Elliot and took his hand.
Surprise on his face turned into something else.
Hope.
That's all Tyrell needed to give him strength.
He pulled Elliot against his body and hold him tight. Tighter than he ever did. Tighter than he ever dared to dream of.
He felt two arms wrapping around his waist, first hesitant, then firm and needy. He sank even deeper into the embrace.
They stayed this way a long time. How long? He didn't care. He could smell that scent he missed so much. He could feel the body he kept longing for. It felt so good, so perfect, like all the weight he had accumulated was lifting off his shoulders.
Eventually, Elliot released his grip and stepped back to look at Tyrell. He slowly raised his hand to cup his face, and Tyrell could only close his eyes and lean into the touch with a satisfied sigh.
God, I love him so much.
"Me too."
Tyrell's eyes napped open in surprise. "I… didn't say anything yet."
Elliot smiled. A sweet, soft smiled with sparkles in his eyes.
"You don't have to."