Work Text:
So I was… somewhere, holding a glass of punch. I was surrounded by people whose faces just didn’t register. Once or twice someone went up to me to shake my hand. They said things about the reversal of gravitational pull in the birthing of galaxies or whatever some guy named Josh Cullen Santos discovered. God, I felt stupid. I couldn’t understand anything they were saying, but at least the name sounded a bit familiar. I knew a guy with a name like that once. Where was he? He certainly wasn’t there at that moment. Well, he didn’t want to be there.
Oh gosh, Ken. Wish you’re with me now, I feel absolutely silly, and the words in my throat are starting to build up into a scream.
I was then handed a new glass of champagne which I took with a quivering hand.
To hide my nervousness, I thought of things that were only remotely related to the mess that was unfolding. The mess was me, of course. I thought of you.
How I want to run home to you!
Come to think of it, me being able to say that you’re the one I run home to is more amazing than any new comet or galaxy. All my life, this was just something I could dream about.
I also thought about how you don’t mind when I occasionally stumble over my own words, how you laugh at my unfunny jokes, how you are the most beautiful person in my personal universe, and how you’re probably home by now, pretending to be sleeping or watching a movie, pretending to be not waiting for me.
I stared at my feet. Well, I actually just put my head down because I didn’t want to catch people’s attention.
If only we could create our own black holes and harness their teleportation powers so that I could get out of here in a minute. What the ludicrous fuck am I talking about?
“Professor Josh Cullen Santos,” I heard someone squeak in front of me. I looked up. It was a tiny bespectacled lady I may have seen before.
“Hmm? Are you talking to me?” I nearly coughed my heart out as air escaped my mouth. I felt like I needed to make sure.
The exchange that followed felt like it went on for hours.
“Yes of course. You are him, are you not?” She looked at me with a bit of deviousness.
“Right now, I’m not so sure,” I mumbled.
She giggled even though I wasn’t really joking.
“Congratulations on your recent discovery…” I heard nothing else from her mouth after, but not because she didn’t say anymore; it was because I had zoned. I had to zone out.
She finally stopped talking.
“Thank you. I could not—couldn’t have done it without the support of the university and the generous sponsors of our research programs.” I planned to be more succinct so that she’d finally go away.
But she asked another question. I somehow managed to answer, but can’t remember what it was. I do know that her query was quite elementary. Luckily.
“Well, I’m glad to have finally met you. I actually have a copy of your first book, and I’m hoping that you could sign it,” she said, putting the object in my hands.
I have a book? Oh Josh Cullen Santos does. He even has three. How he managed to write so much bullshit then get them published is surprising. How he managed to snag that sexy cool musician is even more surprising though. Really, who would have thought he’d even lay his eyes on a geek like that Josh Cullen Santos person?
“Professor? Are you okay?” The lady looked at me with concern.
The pen’s ink bled through the book’s title page as my lips curved into a smile. I had stopped writing.
“Are you okay?” She asked again.
Then I snapped back to reality.
“Sorry. Yes. No. Yes, I’m fine. I’ll be fine for sure.”
I signed her copy of my published writings and handed it back to her.
“Thank you,” she said as she inspected my inkblots. “And Happy Birthday!”
For a moment I wondered how she could possibly know when I was born.
The bespectacled lady held her book in front of my face. “I read your short bio at the end,” she answered the question in my mind.
The next person approached and the conversation went just about the same way sans the birthday greetings. And in between awkward small talk, rehearsed explanation and equally rehearsed laughter, I just thought of you some more.
I thought of what we’d do when I get home, what I’d rather do with you instead. I tried not to think of anything too erotic though lest I get a boner.
I laughed to myself.
Contrary to my hypothesis earlier that evening, you were already asleep when I got home. But you slept on our living room couch. From that, I knew you had been waiting for a while.
I slowly crouched beside you and wondered if I should wake you up or just leave you be. Then your feathery lashes started to flutter. You smiled even before you could fully open your eyes.
“You’re back!” You said in a scratchy but cheerful voice.
“Did I wake you up, Mister Ken Suson?”
“I wasn’t planning on dozing off at all. How did your party go?” You yawned.
I’m so glad to be here.
“I wanted to hurry back the moment people started coming up to me,” I complained. “It was horrible. It was— I was horrible.”
“You’ll always be wonderful to me,” you said while leaning in to kiss my cheek. I could feel the warmth spreading from the spot your lips touched to the rest of my being.
You then got up and walked into the kitchen. Moments later, faint yellow light radiated from where you were, and you came out with a beautiful cake that you and I could never finish.
“Happy Birthday!”
Ah! You’re the one who’s wonderful.
“And congratulations on the huge discovery. You also finally got a theory named after you! What a dream come true, huh?”
You are the dream, well, were. But I still can’t believe you’re real.
You put the cake down on the coffee table in front of me. The glow of the candles seemed to grow even brighter or were you the one emanating that blinding light?
“Make a wish. 30 is a significant year so you should make one,” you told me.
I searched my mind and my heart for something else I could want. Then I thought, more than anything: the success, the accolades—, it is you I longed for. I’ve always felt that I’m in some alternate universe, but you make me feel that I belong in this world because you’re in it.
How do I say these to you?
“Go on! Don’t you have anything you wish you could have?” you asked excitedly.
I shook my head and blew out my candles.