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Not being the best of people to run on a huge budget, Jean always decided on what was more practical. Such a habit permeated other areas of his personal life, such as romance and friendships. He was not the type of person to come across as welcoming and warm, but rather the opposite. People in the room, at first charmed by his good looks and serious demeanor, would quickly turn to speak ill of him soon after hearing what he had to say or just knowing bits of him. Jean was used to it, so he kept his close circle full of friends from high school, the time when he knew they had been acquainted with the best and worst of him. It was worth it to have those who had already seen him for all he was in that tiny life of his than newcomers who would leave at first notice.
It felt a lot like middle school and younger Jean’s broken knee accident. Who would the head teacher have called if not his mother, the only person who had an idea of how to manage him in such an instance? He applied such a criterion to all his relationships, and it had taken him long before he got together with any women or men in the area. Fortunately for him, his sex drive was not as strong as some of his friends’, so he did not struggle as much as they did whenever they found themselves single and certainly hopeless – who would tap their asses, he couldn’t imagine until he saw faces.
However, it felt rehearsed when he stepped into the café wearing the same chestnut brown coat that he’d worn all those years before. He never wanted to come along in the first place, but not because he didn’t want to. He was immovably afraid for the first time in twelve years, and the reason was the epitome of practicality.
November 3rd was a bullet he couldn’t dodge no matter how hard he’d tried to. That one started early in the morning with a long-awaited message from the person he was firmly convinced of being the love of his life. The feelings, though, had remained caged somewhere deep inside him for the sake of not breaking a promise. Many times, he’d wondered about saving time, breaking it for his selfishness, yet he stopped every time the prospect of a better candidate came to his mind. Nevertheless, that day was the one it would no longer have felt like his guts were pushing him towards the impossible.
They had signed and sealed it as possible twelve years before. It had all felt like a contract back then. Both agreed to what sounded most stupid from how natural it felt to agree on something his friend, for one, wasn’t even certain of living.
To their surprise, the same soul that had reportedly surrendered sat on one of the café’s wooden chairs with his face to the entrance. When Jean found big blue eyes staring at him from the back of the place, he knew they both remembered.
At the same place they had brainstormed their silly agreement, Armin smiled with a softness he had not yet witnessed. It seemed he was genuinely glad to have him remember. Knowing his friend the way he did, it wasn’t related to birthday joy at all. That would have been asking for too much from him.
“One year less, huh?” Jean said their opener every time one of them turned numerically older. Before he could regain control of his facial muscles, a lopsided smile betrayed him. He was unguarded as it usually happened around his former classmate, except it wasn’t a convenient habit then.
He was happy to see Armin. He always felt that way, but his stomach flips wouldn’t let him enjoy the first seconds of their encounters. Soon, the smile fell from his lips into his typical frown and pout as he stood beside the other man.
“What can I say?” Armin replied with a sigh, staring anywhere else but at him, “Today’s the day.”
“How’s thirty-eight feeling so far?”
“It’s been too okay to stay the same the rest of the day.”
Jean snorted, biting his lips not to let out roaring laughter. It was such a quiet place that he preferred to keep it that way, especially in the middle of their conversation. It wasn’t just 38 after all.
“You and your optimism.”
“Nothing new, I believe.”
Armin would have normally said a similar phrase with a tired face, his voice going almost mute as he spoke. But he was grinning that time, and the glint in his eyes made Jean’s knees weaken just a bit.
It would have been an embarrassment to step back and look like he was intimidated by the blonde. He wasn’t in the slightest, so he gripped the seat opposite Armin’s tightly enough to find some balance and keep his pride intact. Still, the way dark blue eyes focused on his flat digits made him move faster than needed to sit down and pretend everything felt alright.
Because everything was alright, wasn’t it?
“I didn’t think you’d come over,” his friend whispered in his direction, “I thought you’d forget about something so silly.”
“You are turning a year older, though. Of course, I had to come around.”
Jean knew him way too well to perceive the expression on Armin’s face as if his hands were touching his features delicately. He never had before, not even been close enough to touch his friend’s skin except for the times they had exchanged objects in a hurry. Without even palming his lips, he could feel in the air the way they turned into a pout, which was accompanied by a confused look and accentuated frown.
Jean adored playing dumb because he thought he’d cause the most precious of reactions in his friend. Any friend, not just Armin – though it was him the older man practiced this the most with.
He waited, staring at his hands resting lightly on his lap.
“That’s… sweet of you. Thank you for taking the time.” Birthday man’s voice came his way as it usually did, like the sweetest of melodies except that one sounded bittersweetly broken, opaque, and worst of all, rehearsed. Just like his entrance and everything that took place until he sat.
He should’ve known better. Jean felt as if the blood pumping back into his heart froze because his chest suddenly felt tight and weirdly static.
“Thirty-eight is important…,” Jean spoke dubitatively, his shaky stare sliding all the way up to meet the other man’s. “Isn’t it, Armin?”
Any trace of confidence he could have had dissipated as soon as he saw the cheeks reddening in front of him. There weren’t tears of fear or joy, but the glaze in Armin’s eyes was there. Pending tears, he called them whenever his friend was moved to show the ocean about to unleash and pour from his eyes.
“It’s just started, so I couldn’t know.”
“Nah, I’m four months ahead. I’ll tell you; it’s nothing.” He shrugged and had Armin’s smile back, creeping up slowly as he listened attentively. Jean could notice how much he’d been looking forward to their meeting.
“Tea?” Armin changed the subject, defeated. It felt as if his friend couldn’t, didn’t want to remember.
“No. I thought we were leaving.”
“Leaving?” Blonde eyebrows shot up, and a million excuses he could come up with to avoid further humiliation passed through his eyes. To Jean, it was waves of uncertainty.
Uncertainty and disappointment.
“Yeah? I thought we were having a date.”
The older of the two always left Armin hanging on expectantly. It didn’t work as often as he would’ve liked, but it did at the right moments. When it looked like his friend had just recovered from a free fall, Jean crossed his arms on top of his chest triumphantly. That was enough for him.
“Don’t do that to me ever again.”
“Oh, but your face is priceless every time.”
They spent the afternoon together. As much as both knew that November 3rd was the day, neither had planned anything special. The cold weather wasn’t strong enough to freeze their bones, but it forced them to bring coats that then lay lightly over their arms. The breeze that came from the west messed up the small hair bun Jean wore to tame his locks, which had grown longer than usual. Armin, in contrast, had his hair move back and forth to the breeze’s rhythm without major changes in his look.
They remained messy and neat respectively, just like they always had been. It wasn’t until Jean stopped to fix his hair that they realized they were really trying something out of their outing. Armin held himself up on his toes to help him collect some wild hairs that fell on his face, and only after their eyes met did they keep some distance from each other.
Despite the newness of that kind of interaction, it didn’t feel awkward or forced. In Jean’s opinion, it was exactly the way things should have always gone. Regardless, he never dared to admit such grand, certain feelings about the man he waited to date for all those years before.
“I know you don’t care now, but you will soon,” his friend muttered under his breath, approaching him quickly and a bit shakily that time around. “I don’t want you all grumpy and annoyed because of mother nature.”
“Oh, if you don’t want me that way, then we definitely have a problem.”
When Armin had a hold on the loose hairs, Jean felt him tug unexpectedly strongly. It caused him to grunt, which brought a grin to the blonde’s lips. Standing so close to each other, they could feel the warmth they irradiated. The younger man’s eyes widened when they found chestnut brown observing his every move and gesture. Usually, Jean would be the one being stared at and not the other way around. At least, that was Armin’s impression whenever they were near one another.
“I don’t mean it that way,” the blonde said with a hum, brushing the remaining baby hairs out of Jean’s forehead for a clearer view. “You know what I mean.”
“How could I know? It’s our first date,” Jean replied calmly as he shrugged it off. He didn’t want to get his hopes high regardless of their proximity and comfort. They had never not been close or felt just fine around the other, so it was no valid indicator that both acted as they had been.
“I didn’t know you were this dense.”
“I didn’t know you were this unclear.”
It could have looked like fighting to anyone witnessing their exchange, but they knew what they were doing. Specifically, Jean knew exactly what game Armin was playing. He wanted the older man to state his feelings first; of course, he wouldn’t give in to the blonde’s unspoken demand so easily.
The streets were full of people running around by the time their watches showed them it was 6 pm. Until then, their walk had remained peaceful and quiet, but the end of the day came with the bustle and hustle of any big city. Public transportation seemed to pass by more frequently than before, and the roads soon filled with vehicles of all sorts. The night sky started to make its appearance as the sun set behind the buildings and trees on the horizon. With the darkness falling upon them came bright streetlights and lower temperatures only Armin could stand.
Until that day, Jean had never seen any benefit in coming from the south. The weather always varied drastically, and he never developed any resistance to extreme heat or cold. However, Armin from the north could pull that off perfectly well.
“I have an idea,” he said, walking two steps into his date’s personal space. Despite their sudden closeness, it was a delight to find that Armin didn’t react to it negatively. “Hold a hand out.”
“Which one?”
“Any. Quick.”
While Jean could see his breath turn into fog in the night air, Armin paused to wear his coat. The older man looked impatient to get his demands covered, but it wasn’t until the other’s pale fingers moved in his direction that he understood what he was meant to do. Extending his hand to the blonde’s, Jean felt Armin’s fingers wrap around his before both their hands invaded one of the coat pockets.
It could have been funny to visualize himself leaning down towards shorter, warmer, sweeter Armin. However, the feeling of a hand he had wanted to wrap his fingers around distracted him from joking further. Instead, Jean sighed heavily as he let out a breathy laugh.
“Has it been a good birthday so far?”
“The best in a while,” Armin said with happiness in the shape of crinkles around his eyes as they roamed over Jean’s. He mouthed his gratefulness before they kept walking west, back home.
Every one or two stops, the younger man drew circles with his thumb on Jean’s palm. Although they had started speaking less and less, they took some seconds to look at each other, smile, and then nod sideways to hide their faces. The whole situation of simulating a birthday date wasn’t as embarrassing as their genuine feelings let them.
Love was a strong word in their shared lexicon, and they knew it meant something greater than they could fathom. Especially, Jean couldn’t get his head around the concept and Armin in the same sentence – not because it wasn’t attainable but because it felt unrealistic. Whenever they discussed “matters of the heart,” as his mother liked to call it, both Armin and Jean avoided referring to romance at all. They knew their perspectives about their affairs and formal relationships. Silently, they also agreed on the same thing: those had all been temporary.
Around the time they reached Armin’s street, the grip on Jean’s hand tightened. It had all been silence and staring around, which was very different from what he could have ever intended to experience on his first date with the taller man. Disappointment brushed over the blonde’s eyes, yet he forced himself to wash it off his face.
Not because things hadn’t gone as expected it meant they were wrong.
Standing in front of his grandfather’s old house, the pair took some time to watch the trees sway with the wind around them. It took Armin a while to understand that being left at home also meant letting go – of course, it wouldn’t have been the best option to ask Jean to stay. After all, he wasn’t even sure whether it still was a date, or they just held hands because the cold was killing his friend.
Right on cue, the birthday man checked his watch to find an excuse out of weird goodbyes. 8 pm showed up in bright, rounded numbers to reassure him it was the right time to let go.
“Thank you so much for spending the day with me, Jean,” he spoke mechanically, trying his best to tint the message with some rehearsed sentiment. Instead, all he could speak was detachment and disappointment.
To Jean, it felt colder than the weather around them.
“No problem,” he replied quietly as his eyelashes fluttered up to allow his brown eyes a better look at the blonde. Seeing things as they were, he could have left them the way they’d always been. Both men could have even pretended that day was some sort of filler in their lives.
Jean, however, was set not to forget a thing. He asked impulsively as if holding on to dear life, “Armin?”
A pause. Silence. Armin’s stare had already gone anywhere but in his direction.
“Yeah?”
He knew how much Jean despised discussing serious issues as if they were nothing. Taking a deep breath, the blonde directed his eyes to his friend’s Adam’s apple and nodded slowly. It was the best he could do to signal the start of a discussion, but Jean already knew what to say and how to say it.
“Please, know it’s alright if you don’t feel a thing.”
“What d-“
“Armin, please. Listen,” Jean pressed forward, and his voice made everything sound like something crucial was on the line. “Listen to me just a second, or else I don’t think I’ll ever say it.”
“Say what?”
He could still remember how out of orbit he had been thrown by the proposal. Out of the two, Jean had been the one to develop more self-confidence. He was the ambivert and the strength in that friendship, so he couldn’t understand what the other man had just pronounced so very clearly. All that piled up to the fact that they were just twenty-five by then.
The younger of the two retorted rather uneasily, “You could’ve just said ‘no.’ I know. Sorry. Crazy idea.”
“No, no. You just caught me off guard.”
Those were the times in which Jean had recently gone back to his short brunette hair. He’d made the promise to himself to cut it regularly, save for his sideburns which he still couldn’t let go of. Bleaching his browns had long been left in the past as he saw no use in colorful hair; it never landed him any jobs.
Armin, playing it safe as usual, had decided to grow it long since he’d turned twenty-three. By the time of their conversation, Jean’s friend had managed to grow a healthy golden mane. Without fail, the bright, thick hair strands would light something up in the older man’s chest. Often, Jean had had to refrain from unauthorized hair brushing, pulling his hands behind his back to cuff himself from being too close.
He had been staring at Armin’s fringe right before the other focused his blue eyes on his. It all felt inviting in a way he perceived it far from possible. Nevertheless, Jean had never been the kind of man to hold his daydreaming for longer than a few minutes.
Right at his answer, Armin gripped the wooden table between them. His fingertips whitened due to the pressure on the surface, and it made the older man wonder why he hadn’t given any substantial replies just yet.
“That was too much. Maybe.”
“Not at all. I just never expected you’d be the one proposing something this huge to anyone ever.”
Jean held Armin’s stare fiercely, doing his best not to blink and miss out on any details. Both had known for long that there was something between them, but neither had mustered the courage to go and confess. The fear of losing a friend, and even a whole group if they weren’t careful, was greater than their hearts’ desire.
For a second, Jean considered turning things around: To hell with it! His body had moved closer to Armin’s without leaving his seat, his head hovering over the blonde as they looked at each other. Still, as if he had felt a dart be shot right onto his chest, he finally stopped midway to breathe out. He couldn’t do it, or rather, allow himself to do such a thing. He could, however, let his breath hitch before finding the right words to keep the conversation going.
“It’s just probabilities, Jean. Not big at all. Who says we’ll even be alive by thirty-eight?”
“Point taken.”
It had been the perfect comment Armin could have thought of. When they were younger, Jean was always insistent on how he would die a consecrate rockstar at the age of twenty-seven. That had left them, hypothetically, two years to hold a promise they may have never been able to fulfill in their futures. Deep inside his heart, Armin wished that, if it never was, it was because of Jean’s love life and not death getting in the way.
The taller man raised a hand to interrupt Armin’s fatalistic train of thought. He spoke quietly to prevent anyone else from hearing something so private to them, “But would that mean we’ll be together forever? Because honestly, after Mom and Dad, I don’t think I’m a good fit for traditional marriage.”
As tempting as a life with Jean had sounded to the blonde, he admitted to himself that it wasn’t on his list of priorities. Currently, not even having any sort of romantic relationship with Jean precisely was on it.
“Oh, no way. I don’t believe in marriage anyway.”
“Good.”
“So?” There was a weird sort of expectation looming over him just by the look of Armin waiting for the resolution to their case. If Jean hadn’t been friends with him for more than a decade, he would have thought the other man was quite the weirdo.
“Why thirty-eight, though?”
“Grandpa always said that was the right age to do crazy stuff. Remember you can obviously dec-“
“Right. Deal. Thirty-eight,” Jean shook his head and rose the volume of his voice to quieten Armin’s monologue. With a smirk and a narrow stare, he watched Armin’s nose turn pink. “Why didn’t you want to commit to a life of celibacy just to wait for me until thirty-eight?”
“Jean.”
He gasped, pointing at the blonde. His interlocutor could have remained uncommunicative to wait until his friend’s embarrassing behavior stopped. Nevertheless, Armin had gone with it and giggled softly.
“No worries, Arlert. We all have our needs.”
The younger man could have replied to Jean’s insinuation. The answer was right on the tip of his tongue, but the volcanic red of his cheeks and how they hurt from being tensed up had silenced him temporarily.
With feet glued to concrete and a wild heart about to jump out of his chest, Armin stared at Jean similarly despite the twelve years that had passed. In a way, it felt like reliving a point in time, but neither could wrap their minds around that idea. To Armin, it would’ve sounded like madness. To Jean, it would’ve made perfect sense, which was what he needed the least as he spoke. He didn’t need to remind himself of the fact that their conversation could have taken place ages before that night.
“You said- We said we’d get together by this time. Today’s your 38th birthday,” his low voice trembled as he once more stopped his hands from clinging onto Armin’s shoulders. If there was a time to be brave about them, it was then and there. He closed his eyes for the impact to feel milder and continued, “I don’t think you- Armin, I’ve spent all these months since my goddamn birthday waiting patiently for someone to date me miraculously just to save me the. Shit. The trouble because how, how could I ever go and actually ask you out because of the deal?”
“You can still back down, Jean,” Armin cooed automatically, his soul leaving his body so he wouldn’t have to deal with heartbreak on the same day he had looked forward to. “It was a silly promise. We were kids.”
“No!” Jean yelled, and it wasn’t until some heads turned to watch them that he controlled his voice volume. Words escaped him. “No. Armin. What I mean is I didn’t want things to go like this. I didn’t want my presence to be the last thing on the list, the only chance left. I am the only person you’ve liked that you’ve never dated – I don’t want to be a supportive role in your romantic history if that makes any sense.”
“You make it sound like I’m-“
“Because you fucking are. You’re perfect in your own way. I couldn’t think of anyone better, and all the people who have had those bits of you are so damn lucky. I just don’t want to keep my word now at thirty-eight because I wish I’d had the guts to say anything long ago.”
Armin’s bright blue eyes widened, and Jean could have sworn he was seeing the clear sky of a summer morning. Feeling the warmth of the blonde’s stare, he stopped to think about how to end the conversation on good terms.
A small voice, however, brought him back to chaos, “You do?”
To Jean, it felt unrealistic that his friend couldn’t believe his interest remained after all those years. Thinking about it rationally, he found himself validating Armin’s perspective. If that had been his case, he wouldn’t have believed a word he’d been told.
“It doesn’t matter now, Armin. There’s just a few months left before I turn thirty-nine and this is left in the past. Eight months, yes. Almost the whole year. Great.”
When the older man was finished with his speech, he huffed to let out all the stress and anxiety he accumulated mid-confession. With words said and secrets told, at least Jean should have been able to move on. Their arrangement, after all, had felt more like a curse than anything positive the more he had thought about it. Being Armin’s felt the closest to any other constituents of his imagination.
A hand stopped his from going into his left pocket, and he soon found marble-colored fingers entangling with darker ones. Jean raised his head to focus on Armin’s eyes, except it was the other man who had trouble looking back that time.
With his free hand, the blonde moved some locks to the back of his ear before he spoke coarsely, “I didn’t get with anyone after twenty-eight because no one was half as good.”
Jean had always been certain that the heartache and the lack of closure still tainted Armin. He had just never asked further about his romantic attachments since the talk would have eventually backfired.
“As who? Your last boyfriend?”
A bright laugh he never expected to hear in such a context shook Jean to the core. He searched for Armin’s teary eyes then and saw the big smile that formed on his lips. He must have looked confused enough for the blonde to speak before he could formulate any follow-up questions.
“As you,” the younger man whispered-yelled, stepping into Jean’s personal space without a warning. He brushed his right palm against Jean’s temple to make sure he was there with him.
The silence was all there was, and Armin’s toothy grin still waited opposite the older man. Wordlessly, Jean stumbled, and his arms flung open toward the person he’d loved for so long.