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Laurance stood just outside Garroth’s house, tears still gathering in his eyes, a few escaping and running down his face. He just poured his heart out to Garroth, a long winded love confession filled with love-y language and smiles, his heart racing and his head hurting. He felt so confident about confessing: Garroth had been flirting back, holding his hand, helping him with class work even though he didn’t need it just so they could spend time together. Was Laurance reading the signs wrong? He could’ve sworn Garroth felt the same way.
He must’ve been, because otherwise he wouldn’t be standing outside the Ro’maeve’s big house, facing the door that Garroth just went inside to. Their conversation plays on repeat in his head.
“Garroth,” Laurance smiles.
“Hey,” Garroth waves. “What’s up? It’s almost eight y’know.” He always had such a strict sleep schedule, homework from eight to nine, nine to nine-thirty to get ready, and at ten-thirty fall asleep. Said that’s how it’s been for years.
“I know. I just, um.” Laurance wrings his hands, suddenly nervous. He hasn’t been nervous all night, why now? “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Is everything okay? You’re nervous,” he says it confidently. Knowingly. He grabs Laurance’s hands in his own, running his thumbs over them.
Laurance nods. “I am nervous. Everything’s okay though. Just trying to think of how to phrase this.” So everything can be normal if I’m wrong, he thinks. I can’t lose you.
“Take your time,” Garroth reassures, waiting. Laurance breathes heavily at seeing how content Garroth is. It gives him the strength to be content too, to just say it.
“I want you to stay for the whole thing, okay?”
“Of course,” Garroth says easily.
He gulps, then exhales, then starts. “I remember back just last year when we met. Gene had just been an asshole to me, prior to our break up, and you had come and sat down on the bleachers next to me. I still smelled of spray paint and I looked ridiculous, but you sat next to me and wrapped an arm around me anyway. You didn’t judge me. You saw me cry over a boy and you didn’t do anything.”
You tensed, you relaxed, you carried on like normal, I remember.
“I felt so alone just a few months ago. We met officially then just thirteen months ago. And in those months, I’ve realized a lot about everything. Turns out art is kind of fun, I really enjoy soccer, I want to pursue freelance work of some kind—maybe photography or writing—and I want to make so many friends that middle school Laurance would’ve cried at the thought of just how many people we know. That know us. And Garroth, I don’t think I can describe the happiness that meeting you has brought me.” He inhales sharply, exhales shakily, looks down at their hands, and holds the hands which are semi-limp in his own tighter. His heart beats a million miles a minute. Both of their hearts do.
“Garroth, I don’t know how to describe how you make me feel. It’s not like my heart always beats at a million miles, and I don’t often get butterflies, but when I’m with you, it’s like my whole life is different. Just by looking at you, I feel better. You’re a wonderful person, y’know that? Captain of the baseball team in freshman year, a fan club of people, friends with everyone, bright smile with an even brighter future. You’re so nice—no, kind too—nice is when you think with your head, but you think with your heart. You always have. You reach your hand out to anyone who needs help and you pull them up from the pits of hell, and it’s almost like you pick them up and put them in your pocket and just carry them around. For thirteen months now I’ve felt this elation. Even when we were fighting over the last cookie in the Oreo container or about whether my old friends were shitty or not, I always felt like at the end of the day, you’d still be there for me as I you. I feel better when I’m with you. I feel safe, and secure, like I can trust you and I always have somewhere to go. You don’t make fireworks explode all the time, but you make me act like an anime teenage girl with the way I kick my feet at one of your sweet texts. I still remember the day you sent my favorite, it was… the third I think? Of October? You sent a picture of two birds, a male and a female, and you captioned it us. I remember just staring at it for hours trying to figure out what you meant until you texted my name and I confessed I had no idea. You linked a documentary. Said this was how you won over the ladies,” he laughs. “It was so stupid.”
Gulping again, he squeezes the completely limp hands in his. He tries not to think about them. “But, I have to say, even if I’m not a lady, you’ve definitely won me over. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way, Garroth. Not with anyone else. It’s kind of scary, honestly, but I feel like I need to tell you and if I don’t I’m gonna die. So I am.”
Laurance looks him in the eyes. Garroth looks pale, horrified, and Laurance stutters over the last of his confession. “Garroth Ro’maeve, I lo…—“
“No,” Garroth mutters, pulling his hands away, covering his face, his voice is high-pitched. “No, no, no, Laurance no.”
“No?” Laurance’s heart breaks. It crumbles within his ribcage, a pain starts to burn in his lungs.
“No, this isn’t right Laurance. You can’t lo…” Garroth gulps, as if talking physically pains him. “You can’t love me, Laurance.”
Garroth grips at his hair. Laurance wants to pull his hands away, to mutter how that isn’t good for his scalp, but he wonders if he has the right to anymore. Will things change now? That’s the one thing he didn’t want. Anything but to lose Garroth! “Why?” His voice cracks.
“You can’t,” is all Garroth says. Then, without another word, he walks back into the house, and Laurance is left alone outside, eight pm.
It’s been maybe a few minutes. Laurance now sits on their front porch, under the awning. His back faces the door. A few stray tears run down his face. He knows he’s probably being dramatic, he normally is, but his chest really hurts. It hurts like his chest is ripping into two. It burns like there’s lava being poured into his bones. It makes him hunch over involuntarily. The tears are also involuntary.
“He hates me,” he mutters to himself. “He absolutely hates me.”
Wiping his tears away with his sleeve, he pulls out his phone, opening their texts.
can i come over for a bit? sorry to spring last min lol
ofc laurance! always welcome over :D
i’m here, come outside?
He types out a new text.
sorry about earlier. let me know how you want to go about school, i’m okay with whatever makes you most comfortable.
He was okay with it. Well, okay was a strong word. Especially if Garroth didn’t even want them to speak in class. But he could do it for him.
By the time it’s nine, no text has come through. Laurance finally has the courage to leave the porch, legs weak and eyes red.
Garroth watches him from the window, sad.
Laurance waited outside for an hour for him. 9:07 read the time. Yet he still waited so long. Garroth doesn’t know if he checked his phone at all, but his eyes just keep drifting back to the text.
Sorry about earlier, he says to himself. Sorry? For what? For being honest? For having the courage to confess his feelings? For Garroth’s own incompetence? He fucked up, how is that Laurance’s fault?
Let me know how you want to go about school, I’m okay with whatever makes you most comfortable, he reads. Ever the most considerate person alive, he asks what Garroth is most comfortable with. He makes sure not to overstep. He’s cautious. How does Garroth explain that his mind is spinning so much that he feels dizzy just sitting at his desk and thinking about everything? His fingers hurt from fisting his hair so much.
Recently, his father has been doubling down on him to get a sweetheart. He and Zianna had met in freshman year, started dating in sophomore year, and he expects Garroth, the soon-to-be face of the company, to follow in his footsteps. To get a girlfriend and major in business administration and live the life that’s planned out for him. He grips his hair at just the thought. He doesn’t want the company. He doesn’t want a girlfriend. He wants Laurance, he wants to be curled up on their bed with game controllers playing Legend of Zelda, he wants to kiss him senseless and feel his heart light up. He wants it so badly that it’s all he thinks about sometimes! He wants to hold his hand all the time, to bring him home for dinner and introduce him as his boyfriend , to share clothes, and wake up with hidden hickeys just because. He wants to laugh in photobooths and cry during fights, and he wants to hug and talk and just everything. He wants it, oh how badly he does.
But he’s Garroth Ro’maeve. Having a boyfriend, being free to do whatever he wants, has never been in the cards for him. Besides, Laurance will find someone better, someone who can love him for who he is, and this means that Zane and Vylad don’t have to take over the company because of his incompetence. They can live freely and do whatever they want. Garroth can’t push that burden onto them. This is his responsibility.
“I wish you were a girl,” Garroth mutters to himself.
In his dreams, where no one can judge him, Laurance is always a boy. He’s always himself. Garroth always falls for him more.
It’s school the next morning. Laurance avoids him by hanging out with Aphmau and distracting himself with soccer, getting both of them to play multiple games on the field during lunch. Garroth watches them from above, leaning against the railing.
“Hey Garroth,” Katelyn says as she walks up to him, mimicking his pose by resting her elbows on the rail. She watches the two of them play hard. “Whatcha looking at?”
“Aph and Laurance,” Garroth replies. He likes Katelyn, she’s always been a nice girl. “They’re good.”
“Yeah,” Katelyn responds. She looks at them too. Laurance has sweat running down his face, wiping it with his shirt, Aphmau running across the field to grab the ball from the side. She grabs it and makes her way back. They start up another game.
“So why do you look so down?” she asks. She looks at him now. He feels like he’s being stared at.
He flicks invisible dirt from under his nails as a distraction while he bites his lip. Shrugging, he avoids answering. “Well something’s up. Normally you’d go down and, like, bug him or something. Or be all “Aphmau! Beat his ass!” and stuff. It’s weird. You’re never like this. Did you fight?”
No, not fight, he thinks. “It’s complicated,” he says instead, hoping it satiates her. It does the opposite.
“Nothing is ever complicated Garroth, just say what’s up. Maybe I can help.” She leans her back against the railing now, arms crossed against her chest.
Garroth inhales sharply. He clenches his fist. “It’s my fault.”
“I’m sure it is, now spill.” Harsh, playful, a joke, she says it. “Sorry, sorry,” she corrects. “Just go on. I’m listening, seriously.”
Garroth exhales exhaustedly and slides down against the brick wall, Katelyn joining him not even two seconds later. “It’s hard to talk about.” Katelyn nods as if she understands.
“I’m listening,” she encourages anyway.
He gulps, playing with his fingers while he stalls for time. It feels like time slows down. Lunch will end soon. Ten minutes.
“I kind of messed up, yesterday.”
“How so?”
“Well, um.” He hesitates. He’s never talked about… anything like this. Never in depth about his loss of control for the future, about his emotions, about his shame. It’s all new. It feels forbidden. “Yesterday Laurance came over around eight pm, right? He stayed outside. I went to meet him. Out there, he…”
Is he allowed to talk about this? Isn’t this unintentionally outing Laurance to Katelyn? No, no, he has to change the situation a little.
“He just was asking a few questions about work and stuff. Like for school. Said he was on a walk and wanted to stop by to ask about it all. By the end of the conversation, I realized something. I said we can’t hang out anymore.”
Katelyn stays by his side. “What did you realize?” She doesn’t rush him. He appreciates it.
“I think I…” Oh god, he was about to admit it. He can’t go back on it. He doesn’t want to go back on it. “I think I like him. A lot.”
“Mhm,” she nods. “That’s okay, Garroth. You can like boys. I like girls and boys.”
“You do?” Garroth asks, astonished. Katelyn likes girls too?
“Yeah, always have. My first crush was a girl. I understand.”
“But you don’t understand why I can’t be with him.”
“No, not really,” she admits. “Why can’t you be with him?”
He stumbles over his words. The weight of his worries and his shame, his anxieties are coming back full force and hitting him— he admitted he liked Laurance . His chest feels light, his head kind of feels like it’s spinning and his cheeks feel hot. He feels relieved most of all. Katelyn, at the very least, doesn’t think anything different of him.
“My dad,” he summarizes. “He’s a little overbearing—“
“A little my ass.”
“—and,” he laughs, “he kind of has my… life planned out for me? He has since I was a kid. He wants me to be a copy of him, down to a tee.”
Her face scrunches. “Ew, that’s gross.” After a second, her face softens a little. “Garroth, you realize you’re not your dad right? Garte isn’t you.”
“I know that,” he says, almost irritated, because he does know that. Garroth knows he’ll never be his dad, never be as successful as him, never be as great. His dad will always be better than him, so he has to at least be worthy of being his son, of being in his shadow. He’s always been told that. “I know I’ll never be as great as him.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
He raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
Katelyn’s softened face morphs into sadness. The genuine confusion in his voice hurts. “Garroth, you are not Garte. You have different aspirations, and likes, and so much more. For instance, Garte isn’t ever home, and you always help Vylad with his math. Garte thinks that sports are stupid, while you could get a full ride based on baseball one day. Garte doesn’t help Zianna with cooking dinner, yet you help her and even make her go sit down even though you’ve both had long days. If anything, to me,” she looks at him head-on, “it looks like you’re better than Garte.”
He feels like he should be enraged. Garte is an amazing man! He runs a big business and makes tons of money for them, giving them clothes on their back, a roof over their head, food on the table, and anything they could ever want. But instead, Garroth kind of wants to cry. His eyes tear up without his consent. He goes to wipe them, chuckling, “I don’t know why I’m crying. I get what you mean Katelyn, but he does so much for us.”
“He does the bare minimum when it comes to being a parent though. Everyone deserves the basics.” She lets him sit in his own space, choking back tears upon hearing words that he’s been waiting to hear since forever ago. No one’s ever told him that—
No one except Laurance, he supposes. Zianna never has, just complimenting him on his accomplishments; Zane never has, never even acknowledging him much in general; Vylad never has, not one to comment on things like that in general. But one time, Laurance caught him in the middle of a breakdown at two am, facetimed him, and stayed on the phone all night. At school, they were both so exhausted they skipped first and second period to catch up on some sleep in one of the music rooms. Laurance hugged Garroth so tight that day, he held his hand all day in secret, he stayed close. “I can always move away if you’d like,” he’d remind, and Garroth would shake his head, would mutter “Please don’t” and Laurance never did.
“I think you should explain everything to him,” Katelyn says.
“Yeah, I think so too.” He wants to. Laurance deserves to know why he reacted like that last night. “I’ll go over to his later tonight and explain everything there.” He wipes away the last of his tears.
“Thanks, Katie.”
She smiles. “Anytime, GarGar.”
It’s seven at night when Garroth decides to head over to Laurance’s. He doesn’t text him in fear of losing his courage, only lets his mom know he’s over to Laurance’s for an hour or two and that if plans change she’ll text him. She sends him off and tells him to say hi to Laurance. He says he will.
It’s a short walk to Laurance’s. He lives in the middle of him and Aphmau, closer to her. It’s still only a ten to fifteen-minute walk if the streetlights are fast.
He uses this time to get his thoughts together. He wants to tell Laurance his fears about a relationship, but also about his true feelings that he’s kept locked away for months. About how he’s kind of an idiot for doing what he did the previous night. About how he’s so sorry and how he wants to make it up. And before he knows it, he’s in front of Laurance’s house, backpack on his shoulder, texting him to come outside. He can see Laurance’s shadow in the window as he receives the text, picks up the phone, and waits a moment before going downstairs.
The door opens. Laurance closes it behind him. He’s in plaid pajama pants and an undertale shirt.
Laurance smiles shakily. “Hey.” Garroth notices the bags under his eyes, the redness in them. It pains him. Has Laurance been crying?
“Hi,” Garroth says stupidly. Then it’s like his mouth forgets how to work because they stand there in silence, both looking at their shoes.
“So what—“
“Laurance—“
“Sorry, go ahead,” Laurance says. Garroth nods, inhales.
“Can we sit on the porch?” he asks. His stomach feels all queasy. How did Laurance do this so easily yesterday? Garroth feels like he’s going to throw up and he hasn’t even started!
Laurance nods and sits down, Garroth sitting on the same step as him, facing him.
Gulping down the salvia building along with any fear, Garroth goes for it. “I’m sorry, about yesterday, I mean. It was a lot but not because of you. I have a lot I’m dealing with mentally and it manifested in not allowing you to your feelings. That wasn’t right. You’re allowed to like me, Laurance.” He inhales a little, sharply, and looks down at Laurance’s hands. Laurance offers his to hold, a parallel of yesterday, and he takes it. It’s nice. “Plus,” he starts, “I think I like you too.”
His eyes widen. “What? Yesterday you were so adamant about—“
“I know, I want to explain why too.” Laurance nods, relaxes a little and slumps, holding Garroth’s hand back tighter while rubbing his thumb against the top of it. It’s so nice he could cry.
“My dad has my life planned out. I’ve told you this. He has all these expectations and things I need to achieve because I’m set to inherit the company. I get a long-term girlfriend in tenth grade like he did, go to college for business administration with a minor in management—at the college he went to for legacy reasons—and then live my whole life like he is. I don’t go out and do things that could ruin the family name, but I meet tons of people for connection reasons. I have two or three kids, mainly so that there’s another heir if the first one can’t do it for some reason. He has it planned out to a tee. Said if I didn’t have a girlfriend by twelfth grade he’d arrange something because having a high school sweetheart would make me seem more likable and family oriented.” Laurance’s face falls, horror and distress. Garroth tenses.
“So you were scared, I get that.” He can’t really understand, Garroth doesn’t expect him to and is glad, but he’s sympathizing. He’s grateful. “But then I have a question,” he waits for permission, then continues. “Let’s say your dad wasn’t controlling, how do you feel about me?”
Without hesitation, Garroth looks into his eyes, sure of himself but also so nervous. “I love you. Laurance, I love you so much, I’ve never felt anything like this before. My heart beats so fast and my head literally feels dizzy, sometimes you make my skin feel so hot and sometimes I’ve laid awake in bed for hours just thinking about how life could be. We could be roommates or something and live away from it all—eventually, I could propose with promise rings because marriage actually is really scary to me. It could just be amazing.” At some point he must have started to lean his head against Laurance’s shoulder, because now he’s looking down at their connected hands, watching as Laurance intertwines them and squeezes them close. “My feelings scare me so much. Dad never accounted that I would like a boy, especially not this much, and he never accounted for me wanting to live my own life. He figured I’d just go for it. Like he wanted.”
“What is it that you want?” His other hand wraps around their intertwined hands.
“I want to be with you. I want to be able to call you my boyfriend. I want to be able to have three am talks and have dates and photo booth kisses. I want to do so many cliche things and so many random things. I want to be comfortable and be myself and be able to explore who I am, to not be trapped in the box he’s put me in. I want to move in with you one day after college, after majoring in something I like. I want to be able to sit on our couch and watch TV, for one of us to come home and the other to be waiting with open arms. I want to grow old once we find our forever home, maybe adopt a cat, maybe kids if we ever decide but that’s completely up to us and with no rush. I want to be able to spoil you and laugh with you, go on adventures with you, and just… Laurance, I want to be with you. I want to be your boyfriend.”
Laurance, by the end of his speech, is silent. When Garroth looks up, he looks like he’s going to cry. He smiles softly. “I thought you hated me, what a relief,” he wipes at his eyes with one of his hands.
“Ah!” Garroth reaches up with his free hand too to wipe away half of them. “Don’t cry, Laurance, I’m sorry! I could never hate you!”
“I’m so happy, I can’t help but cry,” he laughs a little, putting his hand over Garroth’s. One of each of their hands is still together. “This feels too good to be true,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against Garroth’s.
After a second, Laurance speaks again. “I don’t want to force you into anything, but I want you to know that I love you too. I want all of that too. I’ve thought forever about pet names, and come up with a million scenarios for how our lives could go. I want to be your boyfriend too.”
“Do you think… do you think we could work?” Garroth asks almost exasperated from worry as he bites his lip. The anxiety is getting to him, but he pushes through anyway.
“I don’t want to push you to get into a relationship if you’re scared or not one hundred percent sure,” Laurance says.
Garroth nods. “Do you think… we could get together just, in secret?” Secret dating. That could work. It won’t be traditional, and they’ll have to be careful, but Garroth wants to be with Laurance so bad it’s like it’s consuming his brain in a whirlwind.
“Are you comfortable with that?”
“Laurance if I don’t get with you I feel like I’m going to die,” Garroth laughs, overdramatic with his words. Laurance knows, he laughs too.
“So…” Laurance says, smiling. He still has his forehead against Garroth’s, hands intertwined on his lap, both of them have grins, breath fanning on each other’s lower faces. “Garroth, can I be your boyfriend?”
He smiles brightly, laughs loudly, and nods, “Yes. Please, god, yes, please be my boyfriend!”
Laurance can’t help but laugh loudly. Their hands hold each other tighter. “Can I kiss you?”
Garroth reaches up to kiss Laurance first, awkwardly smiling and teeth kind of clashing but neither of them caring because Garroth’s hands are on Laurance’s cheeks and Laurance’s eventually find purchase somewhere on Garroth. When the kiss breaks, they stare at each other’s flushed faces and laugh.
“You’re my boyfriend,” Garroth says.
“I’m your boyfriend,” Laurance repeats. Both of them have uncontrollable grins.
“This doesn’t even feel fucking real, Laurance. I feel like I’m on cloud nine! I want to shout it to the world like one of those movies—“ He stands up as he talks, walks around.
He laughs, jokes, “Please don’t, my love, I’ll literally break up with you.”
“My love,” Garroth repeats, standing just a few feet away. His heart beats a million miles a second. “Hell, you’re going to kill me, Laurance !”
“You’re just so cute,” he smiles. “Want to come in?”
Garroth smiles brightly. “Yeah, down to start a Minecraft world?”
Laurance reaches his hand out, Garroth takes it. “Only if I can put my bed next to yours.”
“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”