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“Are you writing letters to that guy again?”
Eric chuckled as he stayed his pen. He smiled and lifted a hand to greet his old friend, Gilbert. “What do you mean by ‘that guy’? That’s uncharacteristically rude of you, Gil.”
Gilbert huffed and sat down at the edge of the study table, arms crossed. He looked closely at Eric and found Eric’s eyes red-rimmed and puffy.
“Allergies again?” Gilbert frowned, resisting the urge to reach out and cup Eric’s soft cheek.
“Well… yes,” Eric’s head drooped sadly. He adjusted his glasses and continued writing again. “I’m used to it.”
Eric was staying indoors due to his pollen allergy. He was sniffling slightly, feeling all cooped up due to the windows staying closed. With nothing but time on his hands, he wrote letter after letter to his friends, but especially to Cale Henituse, whose exploits and troubles spread far and wide through rumors.
The corners of Gilbert’s lips went down even further as he watched the cursive letters fill the page, full of affection and concern.
To My Dear Dongsaeng Cale,
Gilbert scowled.
What was so good about Cale Henituse, anyway? That guy didn’t reply to any of the letters Eric painstakingly wrote, and he didn’t pay Eric a visit despite Eric’s condition. He was truly trash like the rumors said he was. Eric was wasting his precious time and feelings on a guy who would never appreciate it, and it was killing Gilbert to watch.
He drummed on the surface of the table with his fingers.
“Hey. Stop writing. Look at me instead.”
Eric looked at Gilbert with an amused smile, but he did stop writing. “I can still talk to you while I write.”
“Forget about that guy.”
Eric’s round eyes blinked, puzzled. “What do you mean?” Then, a soft smile graced his face, making his round cheeks look even softer. “I’m almost done writing this letter, Gil. We can play chess after this.”
Gilbert couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Eric.”
He reached out and gently tugged the quill pen out of Eric’s grasp, placing it on the table so he could hold Eric’s hand.
Eric’s grey eyes widened in surprise. His rounded eyes bounced between their joined hands to Gilbert’s serious expression.
“Can’t it be me instead?” Gilbert asked with lowered lashes.
“What are you talking about?” Eric asked. His voice trembled ever so slightly as he looked at the unfamiliar expression on Gilbert’s face.
Gilbert furrowed his brow and took a deep breath. His eyes dropped to their joined hands, held in a grip that was neither firm nor weak - but careful, tentative.
This wasn’t the way he wanted this to go. He wanted to be patient. But he really couldn’t stand it anymore, watching Eric put so much effort into an unappreciative bastard like Cale Henituse.
Eric was the nicest person he knew. As an affectionate man, Eric cared so, so deeply for his friends and family. He would always be the first person to stand up for his loved ones, endlessly giving even at the cost of himself. He never spoke a single word of his troubles and suffering, and Gilbert always had to find out from others. He couldn’t bear to see that. He wanted to be there for Eric. He wanted to protect Eric and make him happy.
“Gil?” Eric prompted gently. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll, I’ll reply to all of your letters and write you many more. I’ll visit you often, especially during spring since you can’t leave your house. And, and I’ll fold you many many paper flowers, because I know you like them, even though you can’t touch them,” Gilbert stuttered a little as he rambled. “And during summer, we can go to the opera house you like, to catch all the shows from the booth seats, and in the autumn, we could go on walks to see the changing colors of the leaves, I know you like them. And in the winter, we could sit in front of the fireplace and read, because you like that too, reading books in front of the warm fire. I want to be by your side and do all the things you like with you, because I like you.”
Gilbert finally stopped talking.
He didn’t dare to look at Eric.
He was sure Eric didn’t feel the same way. He knew Eric had always treated him like a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.
“I didn’t know you felt that way,” Eric said after some time had passed. His voice was soft. Careful. Sincere.
Gilbert grit his teeth. What the hell was he doing right now? How could he confess in a fit of jealousy? He should be more mature than this. He shouldn’t be doing this right now, not when Eric was suffering from allergies, not when he came here to cheer Eric up and spend time with him. It was unfair of him.
He was about to open his mouth, to take his words back, to apologize, when Eric spoke again.
“This… t-this is a lot to process,” Eric added haltingly. “And, I… Oh…”
His stuttering caused hope to flare in Gilbert’s chest. Gilbert finally lifted his eyes and looked at the person he had been hopelessly in love with for the last few years. His mouth went slack at the sight of Eric.
Eric’s cheeks were bright red, but this time he truly was looking at Gilbert and no one else. His grey eyes shimmered behind the lenses of his golden glasses, full of shyness.
“Thank you for telling me, Gil. I’ve never, no one has ever…” Eric pressed his free hand against his heated face and dropped his gaze, too embarrassed to look at Gilbert. “Can you give me some time to think about it?”
“Of course!” Gilbert agreed readily. He could feel his own face heating up as well. Eric was so adorable he didn’t know what to do with himself. “As much time as you need, Eric. I’m so sorry for springing this on you.”
Their hands were still pressed together, palm to palm, and it felt so warm.
“Should, should we play chess?” Eric suggested awkwardly. His face was now as red as a tomato.
“Sure!”
Anything Eric wanted to do, Gilbert wanted to do.
“Um.”
“Oh!” Gilbert released Eric’s hand, pulling back quickly as though he was burnt. “Sorry.”
“No, um, it’s okay.”
They sat there for a moment, both reeling from what just happened, hands and faces hot.
“Let’s, let’s go!” Eric squeaked and stood up, leading the way with jerky steps.
The letter was abandoned at the table as they headed to the sofa for a game of chess.