Chapter Text
Meet Gabe - 27, tired, single, bi.
By day he works at an architectural firm as a designer; by night, he sleeps. He likes horror movies, romcoms, and keeping the subtitles on. He goes to the gym once in a literal blue moon (so: never). He has a photo album somewhere, filled with ticket stubs for all the shows and concerts he went to during high school. But that was a long time ago - he's boring now. His cat Oro ran away almost a year ago, and he still puts up Missing posters. He has a tube of eyeliner slowly expiring in the pocket of one of his favourite coats.
'If you were a seasoning,' Jack tells him once, 'you would be cumin.' Sure - ok.
Jack is his new roommate - he's a chef. Or, he's in training to become one, at least. He used to be a stockbroker but he had a moral crisis or something and quit.
As a roommate, Jack is quiet, clean, and clearly in love with Gabe's kitchen. Gabe's cousin had to move out unexpectedly over the summer, and Jack was the first or second person to contact him over craigslist. It had all happened pretty quickly - getting the news that his tío had taken ill, Nia moving back home in a matter of days, putting the ad for his place on a few websites, driving back home for the funeral.
Showing Jack around - in a daze.
Jack wasn't sold at first. Gabe could tell, just watching him poke around all the sudden holes in the apartment that Nia had left empty. He hadn't had the words at the time to convince anyone to stay with him.
Then he'd showed Jack the kitchen. It had been early afternoon. The sun came up through the window and lit on the glasses drying golden in the rack. Gabe knew a selling point when he cleaned one - every counter-top gleamed.
Gabe had watched Jack's face open up; and he'd smiled for the first time in days.
'Lots of counter space,' Jack had murmured.
'Brand new appliances, too,' Gabe added, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. 'The landlord had all the kitchens renovated just a few months ago.'
'Mm.' Jack took another lingering look around, then turned back to Gabe. His gaze was warm, focused. 'So when can I move in?'
So in about-- two weeks, Gabe lost an uncle and got a new roommate.
They don't really see each other much at first: Gabe fully buries himself in work the first few months after Roberto dies - his way of coping - and notices only after easing back a little (or rather, after being strongly encouraged to ease back a little) that Jack is rarely home at night.
It turns out, on the days Jack doesn't go into the institute for his classes, he works part-time at one of two different restaurants.
'How are you not dying?' Gabe asks him, the very first Saturday they're both home. A quick catch-up conversation in the kitchen turned into coffee, which turned into chilaquiles with eggs shared from the skillet.
Jack snorts, topping up Gabe's plate with the last of the cheesy onions and chips. 'Believe me,' he says, 'I've got it easy. I'm doing this to play catch-up - I'm just not learning fast enough. But if I needed to quit either of my jobs, I would be fine - I've got savings, I don't have kids, I don't have student loans, or medical debt. I've got options.'
Gabe, who'll probably be paying off his architectural degree even after he retires, smiles with all his teeth. 'Sure,' he says, 'but when's the last time you took a night off?'
Jack shoots him a look. 'When's the last time you did?'
This is how Gabe ends up driving Jack an hour north into the mountains and parking out under the sky while the stars peek out at dusk. 'Aren't you glad you wore your thick coat now?' Gabe teases, nudging him from where they sit on the hood of his car.
'I'm a farmer's boy,' Jack says, 'I don't get cold easy.'
Well, that's too bizarre a statement not to get a follow-up on. They trade stories about growing up in LA versus Indianapolis - Gabe's first time surfing - Jack's first time skiing - Jack's time as a stockbroker in New York - Gabe's time as a grandson in New Mexico - their favourite movies (they've got Kill Bill in common) - their favourite music (they'll, ah... they'll work on Jack's taste) - friends they've left behind - the things they want for their families - the things they want for themselves.
Jack recognises more stars than Gabe does, even though he'd been in an astronomy club in college. 'I had a crush on the supervisor,' Gabe admits. They get hungry. Jack drives them back down into the city - apparently he knows a great Vietnamese place somewhere - while Gabe tells him all about his First Big Gay Heartbreak, about how he figured out he could like men the same way as he did women. In return, over four exquisite banh mi sandwiches, Jack tells him all about his first few relationships with women - 'I almost got married' - gradually coming to terms with how he felt about men, then, finally, coming out to his parents.
The night is cool. They get ice cream anyway: Rocky Road for Gabe, strawberry for Jack. They eat their cones circling round the block on foot. Jack talks about his parents: white, conservative, undemonstrative. Surprisingly supportive of Jack's chef dream.
Someone got hit on the sidewalk near the crosswalk, Gabe sees. There's tall glass candles and streamers on a chain link fence nearby. A little heart pillow on top of a white stick. There's a photo print-out of the person - her name is blotted, maybe from rain or sun exposure. She's smiling. It could've happened a month ago; it could've happened yesterday. Gabe lowers his head in respect as they pass.
'--very new for all of us,' Jack is saying. 'It was hard for them to accept at first. But now... now I think they just worry that I'm lonely out here.'
'Are you?' Gabe asks. He is thinking about death now; he is thinking about living in the margins of others' grief. About living in the margins of his own.
Jack hums. 'That's the question, isn't it?' he says. 'I don't really have time to be lonely. Or maybe I just haven't thought about it.' He pauses. Gabe is still thinking. 'What about you? Are you...? Lonely?'
'Am I lonely,' Gabe murmurs. He sucks in a breath through the sides of his teeth. 'I don't know. I think I miss... being loved.'
'Hm,' says Jack, 'I don't think I've actually ever been in love.' Oh - maybe he misheard. 'You want the rest of this? I think I'm full.'
Startled, Gabe laughs in his face - he's still working on his own ice cream. 'You coward - it's mostly waffle cone! Finish it yourself.'
Jack blushes. 'Alright,' he mumbles. 'Maybe I'll just... go for two scoops next time.'
Next time? Oh, next time, they should--
Gabe blinks, and narrows his eyes at his own line of thinking before it even gets started. This wasn't a date, he thinks firmly. It was-- an outing. An excursion. Made by two roommates... Thereby allowing them to get to know each other better.
'Ahh,' Jack sighs, licking his lips. He finished that cone pretty quick! Or maybe Gabe just wasn't paying attention. 'That was nice. Thanks for this, Gabe.' He smiles - oof, his smile's a killer. 'Let's go home, huh?'
Oof. Oof-oof-oof. 'Haha, sure, no problem,' Gabe says, unsteadily. Ice cream drips down onto his fingers. 'We should do it again soon.'
This is Gabe. Gabe has a crush.