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Fridays are free days for Apollo. He doesn’t have any classes on that day of the week, so he’s usually free to spend the time however. A good chunk of Fridays are dedicated to study time. Clay, however, has a lab portion for one of his science classes on Fridays. It runs from three in the afternoon all the way to five-thirty. After that, his schedule is usually clear.
Fridays nights are therefore dedicated to their favorite pastime. By six, Clay is home and getting ready to head out. Apollo is usually already dressed, and all he really needs to do is wait for Clay to pull on a sweater. The two head into town to stop by whatever budget food places they feel like getting. And then they make their way to a park near their apartment.
Their favorite spot is a grassy hill that overlooks a tiny pond. The area is scenic and has a nice view of the sky. That is why they stop there, to look up at the stars together. Stars have been a passion of Clay’s since they were young, and Apollo just happened to pick it up by association. Nevertheless, star gazing with each other over cheap food is the highlight of their week. Both men could attest to this.
That’s why Apollo is so devastated that he falls sick one December Friday.
He had first tried to tell Clay that it wasn’t anything bad when Clay heard him sneeze. And in all fairness, Apollo only had a minor cold. It would be better by the end of the weekend if Apollo just took care of himself. But Clay wasn’t having it. He made Apollo sit back on the couch in their small apartment while Clay took his own shoes off. The usual “I’m fine”s of reassurance fell on deaf ears as the ravenette pulled his coat off and tossed it on the couch.
“Nuh uh, Apollo. You’re staying in,” Clay argues with a shake of his head. His arms cross over his chest defiantly, and Apollo knows he isn’t going to win.
“But Clay!” Apollo still tries to protest. He is nothing if not persistent (when it is appropriate). “Fridays are important to you. And they’re important to me, too. They’re our stargazing days.”
Clay shakes his head. “Sure, Fridays are important to me. But so are you,” Clay responds.
“But…”
“Look, Apollo.” Apollo looks at Clay, who is unusually serious. “If I was told to choose between having you every day of my life but doomed to never be an astronaut in my life, or be in space everyday but never see you again… Well, I’d probably cry a bit but you do know what I’d pick, right?”
Apollo opens his mouth to reply, then decides this is too intimate for his heart to handle properly. He swallows down his initial reply and instead mutters a tiny (for him, at least) “What?”
Clay grins brighter than the sun. His smile is big and toothy and Apollo has to look away for his own good. “I’d pick you. Over and over and over again. Til the day we die.”
Apollo huffs as he lays down and hides his face in a couch cushion. He eventually rolls his head so his cheek lies flush against it instead. “How am I supposed to make a counterargument to that?” Apollo complains, to which Clay laughs.
“You’re not supposed to make one at all. Just let me be correct,” Clay answers. Apollo feigns disapproval, which earns him a cushion to the other side of his face. Apollo lets out a very unflattering ack as the pillow bounces off his face and to the floor. By the time he sits up to protest, Clay is picking up the pillow and walking across the room to their window.
“So, anyway, you probably think you’ve ruined the night with you sickness, right?” Clay asks, looking over his shoulder to Apollo.
“Somewhat.”
“Well, bear with me here,” Clay starts. And then, with a flourish Clay pulls the curtains to the side and reveals the street outside. Apollo raises an eyebrow at him. “So it’s not the best view, and the scenery is… decent at most. But the sky’s right there,” Clay says, pointing it out.
Apollo nods. “So it is.”
“And we could order food for delivery. Or make some instant noodles or something,” Clay suggests. Apollo catches on now, nodding his head a little faster.
“Yeah, but is this alright with you?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I mean, you can only see a bit of the sky from here. Isn’t that why we go out? To see more?” Apollo asks.
Clay looks back out the window. His eyes stay fixed on the frame he has with the window’s edges and the buildings around their apartment. True, it is a smaller vantage point than they’re used to. But, “I already told you, right? None of that really matters. I don’t care so much, as long as you’re with me. Seriously, Apollo, I’m fine. We’re fine.”
“I-I mean, yeah. You did… say something similar to that,” Apollo mumbles.
“Great! So if you know, then come over here. I’ll start getting the food going if you want to set up an area for us here,” Clay says. He’s already heading to the kitchen before Apollo can respond.
And contrary to what Apollo had expected, Clay actually seems very excited. In retrospect, though, Apollo thinks it should probably have been obvious. Clay is the type to make the best of what he has. It’s only one of the things that Apollo loves about him.