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As Ian ripped the pack of chips open, he tried to shake the unpleasant feeling that his heart held. On the surface everything was great. Nothing bad had happened. But Ian was stressed, and he unfortunately was very aware of what was causing that.
That scared Ian, and he hated himself for it. But for the last couple of weeks, Ian had seen glimpses of the high-strung, stressed-out man he once knew, and didn't particularly wish to see again. The man could come visit every now and then, sure, but now he was overstaying his welcome. Ian didn't like the way Anthony's gaze became intense - too intense - just to dull again. It was frustrating and scary to witness his partner like that. He felt like Anthony was in a slow descent to somewhere he should never, ever go again.
He hadn't brought it up yet but was sure Anthony knew he had noticed. In situations like these, it was more natural to Ian to try to lighten up the mood, to be funny. Gladly he rarely failed to make Anthony laugh. Ian had also, in an attempt to get Anthony to open up, talked about things that currently caused him stress. So far, no success.
Ian finished setting up the tray, gathered the empty packages and threw them in the trash. It was easy to do things like that on complete autopilot. Swipe the table clean, no crumbs left behind. No stains either. Something flashed in Ian's right, and he turned to look out the window, seeing only darkness and his own faint reflection. The warm yellow light shone over the countertop, not matching his mood at all. Interesting juxtaposition. Darkness and light meeting?
And now I'm thinking like Anthony, Ian thought and smiled fondly. He hung the dish rag on the hook near the sink, took the tray, and left the kitchen lights on as he left the room.
"Can you press play?" Anthony's muffled voice was a bit hard to hear, but Ian got it. He put down the tray he had put together in the kitchen, full of both their favorite snacks. Sweet and savory for Ian, salty for Anthony. The remote had hidden between the cushions once again.
"You can't even see the screen from that position," Ian said. Something flickered in his chest. He had rambled on about this movie endlessly. Considering that Anthony had a memory like an elephant, especially when it came to anything Ian-related, it couldn't be too much of a stretch to expect him to remember it.
Anthony rose from a forward fold and shook his left leg. "Better?"
"A bit, but still too far," Ian said and pretended to reach for Anthony's hand. If it was a normal movie night, Anthony would've taken Ian up on his offer. Even if he was stressed out. Now he just shook his head with an odd smile and turned his attention to the screen. Now, Ian was starting to really worry.
Had Anthony started to resent him again? He doubted it. With how much better they knew each other now, how much deeper it went this time, Ian was quite certain he would notice the telltale signs. Anthony would've said something.
Was Anthony mad at him? There was no reason that Ian could think of. Usually when Anthony was mad, he was mad at himself. Maybe it was emptiness, all the busy days and the relentlessness. Anthony had described the empty feeling to Ian, and now every time Anthony used a certain color scheme in his paintings, Ian wondered if that symbolized that.
"Earth to Ian, Anthony speaking." Ian met Anthony's questioning look. Right, the movie. "What's on your mind?"
"Nothing important. Let's just watch this."
Ian pressed play and settled down with a warm, knitted blanket his mom had made, intentionally leaving room for Anthony beside him. The L-shaped couch was big enough to fit multiple people sitting, and great for two people cuddling. He took a handful of snacks and enjoyed the combination of different flavors. The volume of the speakers could be a little louder, he thought, but didn't get up. The movie had subtitles anyway.
Anthony had settled on the floor. He was sitting feet forward, posture straight as always. What was going on? Could it be some kind of stretch?
Ian tried to turn his attention back to the screen. Something about Anthony's behavior today, and especially now refused to leave his mind. He had to say something.
"What gives? Why are you there and not here?" Ian asked. He patted the couch next to him.
"Well, I thought that since I already don't sleep on the bed, I might as well try something else too." Anthony gestured at the floor. There was a challenging look in his eyes, daring Ian to say something. Sleeping on the ground, not sleeping on the bed... Trying something– Ian's eyes widened as he realized what Anthony meant.
"No way!"
"Yeah," Anthony said, and then turned his attention back to the screen.
So, apparently Anthony's goal of sleeping on the floor had extended to him rejecting comfortable seating at home. My place, Ian corrected himself quickly, not home. Moving together had been on Ian's mind from time to time, more a fleeting idea than an actual plan. More so lately.
Ian watched as Anthony shifted, obviously trying to find a comfortable position. Even with the soft rug underneath it would wind up to be painful at some point. It was almost comical how careful Anthony was not to touch the edge of the couch table. He hadn't touched the snacks either, Anthony's bowls were all full.
Ian took a couple of pieces of dark chocolate, like showing an example. The scene that was on was almost silent, and the sounds Ian made while eating grew louder and louder. Anthony didn't seem to mind. His strong back would last a long time. Even through the looser shirt Anthony was wearing, Ian could see his back was as straight as a washboard.
Maybe Anthony could feel his gaze, since he turned around. "Now who's not watching?"
Ian let out an irritated sound. He scooted to the edge of the couch, letting his feet touch the rug. Being closer to Anthony felt necessary. Anthony adjusted his position, so he was seated sideways. Now Ian could see his face better. "As far as this sitting thing is concerned, I actually got the idea from you."
"Nonsense," Ian scoffed. If anything, he had tried to slow Anthony down, not encourage his strict goals. "When?"
"The other week when you told me about that torture chair."
Of course. "Wasn't meant to inspire you."
"It got me thinking. If I can sleep without most of the luxuries–"
"Luxuries? Like a pillow? A mattress?" Ian interrupted. He'd almost included the rug in the list, but didn't want to rub it in Anthony's face. The last he'd heard, Anthony was sleeping on the rug at home.
"Yes, a pillow or a mattress," Anthony continued, clearly ignoring Ian's tone. "Someday without a rug too. If it's possible for me to sleep without them, why wouldn't I try it while I’m awake?"
Ian took a deep breath. "Because someone came up with these things you can sit on. They're called chairs and couches, I believe."
"It's fine if you don't believe in me, or this. I'm doing it anyway," Anthony said firmly, but a little waver in his voice betrayed him. The movie that neither of them had stopped played still and cast an eerie glow to Anthony's face in the otherwise dark room.
"Oh, come on! You know I believe in you. I just think it's unnecessary to burden yourself with all these extra goals," Ian said. He moved his hand to grab the remote but decided not to take it. Maybe complete silence would feel pressuring, like they had to have the talk right now. Maybe it was better to let it play in the background.
"Extra goals?"
"Yeah. I feel like this isn't the best time to pick up new practices." Anthony's eyebrows slightly rose, and he looked at Ian. That gaze Ian knew very well.
"New practices? You make it sound like it's such a big thing." Ian didn't take the opportunity to land an easy joke, although it crossed his mind. There was a glint in Anthony's eyes, but he didn't say anything either. It was a small moment, but it felt nice to notice their connection, even when it was thinking of a same obvious joke at a moment like this. "I'm not even sitting that much during the day, anyway."
"Are you going to sit on the floor at work? At a restaurant? Where's the line?"
"Of course not."
"Just checking. I don't know how you've planned it." Ian knew he sounded annoying, but his need to express himself overrode the thought. "Besides, it can't be comfortable to sit like that. How long have you been doing this?"
Anthony lowered his gaze and touched his nose absent-mindedly. He seemed to think about his answer carefully. "For some time."
"Is this really the best time for that?"
"There is never a best time for anything. I have to do that now, and I don't care if it's uncomfortable."
"There! It is uncomfortable," Ian said, his voice almost celebratory. He was right.
"Well of course it is. That's the point. What's once hard and unbearable will turn into–"
"A comfortable experience, so you can sleep or sit anywhere. I know. It will also turn you into a miserable man with creaky joints who chooses the floor instead of cuddling their partner," Ian finished. That did it instantly; Anthony's expression changed, his eyes looked alive again. It fascinated Ian, he revelled in it, how expressive Anthony was.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ignore you. It's just that, I have to push myself, I need to."
"And I didn't mean to accuse you," Ian said. He felt that much was obvious, since it was a joke – or at least a very well-intentioned attempt at one – but he had learned that reassuring Anthony rarely went wrong. "It just– This is starting to feel all too familiar, you know. Not just the sleeping and sitting on the floor. The control you seek to have, driving yourself crazy with work, the discipline."
At that, Ian could see Anthony's face heat up, his shoulders tensing. There was no need to specify what Ian had meant.
"It's not easy to hear you say that. But you might be right." Anthony said slowly. Ian knew he was threading a thin line here. If he could just choose his words right, to keep his calm to not stress Anthony out more.
"I have thought about it, trying to find a way," Ian said. The next part was hard to say out loud, but he needed to ask it. To confirm it. "Is it me? Have I slacked again and caused you to work twice as hard? Is that why you've been overworking yourself?"
Anthony looked surprised, like he didn't believe Ian. "Don't blame yourself, it's my fault, my own stubbornness. We do an equal amount of work, you know that. Not like what I felt back then. It's not your fault–"
"It's not yours either."
"I will not let you take the blame, I already said it is my fault!"
"Does it have to be anyone's fault?" Ian said. He was starting to get a little exasperated. Anthony was so harsh on himself sometimes. He didn't need to take this on his shoulders too.
"Yes!"
"But why?"
"Because... Well, it's– it must be, otherwise..." Anthony couldn't finish the sentence. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Ian watched as Anthony fell deep in thought, looking frustrated. If Ian could take all the critical parts away, cut them out of his brain, he would. He certainly would.
"Would you please just come sit here with me?" Ian said.
Anthony scooted closer to the couch. His back was almost touching Ian's shins and knees. which was better than the statuesque posture Anthony had held before. It was a good sign that Anthony was willing to come closer. Ian had thought about it and had come to a conclusion that it had to be some sort of self-inflicted punishment. Anthony didn't allow himself to be physically close to Ian when he most needed it. Maybe he thought that he only deserved to when he was outwardly happy and in a good mood.
Ian had never shared these assumptions with Anthony, and probably never would. He was sure that Anthony was either painfully aware of this pattern, or if he wasn't and it was all subconscious, Ian wasn't about to add one more thing for his boyfriend to overthink.
Tentatively, Ian reached his hand to caress Anthony's shoulder. Anthony suppressed a sigh of surprise, but didn't move away. Ian withdrew his hand quickly, studying Anthony's reaction. It was a simple test that Ian had come up with. If Anthony didn't move, he didn't want to be touched. If he either moved closer, traced his fingers where Ian's touch still lingered, or started to fidget, he was doing everything he could not to lean in.
Simple, and not at all subtle.
Unable to resist a smile, Ian watched as Anthony swayed a little while his left hand played with the fabric on his right shoulder. Now it was Ian who had to resist the urge to touch. It had been a while since the last time Anthony was this stressed, and Ian didn't want to rush. A well-meaning touch didn't feel good if the other person didn't want to be touched.
"Can I?" At first, Ian almost didn’t hear Anthony. His eyes shone, he looked up and right to Ian's very core. Whatever it is, yes, you can, Ian thought and nodded. Anthony leaned back and let his back finally touch the edge of the couch and Ian's legs. Did he really just ask permission to come closer? Ian couldn't take it anymore.
He wrapped his arms around Anthony, taking him in an embrace. The angle was a little awkward but it didn't seem to faze Anthony, who took Ian's hands with his own and just held them to his chest. Ian tried to breathe as slowly as possible because he knew Anthony could feel his rhythm where their upper bodies touched. He had read somewhere that regulating your own breath could help your partner too, since they tended to subconsciously aim to match your breathing. Well, the article had been about mothers and young children, but Ian was sure it could apply here, too.
"Come here, please." It came out weaker than Ian intended, unguarded. Was he the one who needed the closeness, after all?
Ian let go of Anthony and leaned all the way back, having to push himself using his feet. Anthony climbed up to the couch, not even bothering to stand up to do so. To Ian's surprise, he didn't lay beside him, but settled between Ian's legs, head resting half on his stomach, half thigh. Normally having Anthony's head that close to his dick would've elicited at least a hint of arousal. Now it was the farthest thing in his mind.
"Is this comfortable for you?" Anthony asked. A pillow would've been a nice addition to soften the weight, but otherwise it was good. Ian didn't want to disrupt the moment and nodded.
"Is there a way to compromise on something? Like you can sit on the floor only a certain amount of time at once or something." Anthony rubbed his stubbled chin and closed his eyes.
"I'm not sure. Just the thought, there's a resistance," Anthony said. "It's hard to explain."
"Want to try?" Ian let his hand linger over Anthony's head, barely touching the hair and still seeing Anthony shiver.
Anthony licked his lips, adjusting his position a bit. "It's like the compromise– or the more I lean into it– it just... It doesn't feel good. The compromise, I guess, I don't know."
Seeing Anthony so bare, not knowing what to say, made Ian feel so much love towards him. Anthony was so in touch with his feelings, and usually could articulate them very well. "You don't have to get it right. There is no right way to do this. I'm here to listen, even if all you say is 'I don't know'. Or if you don't want to say anything."
"Okay," Anthony said and took a deep breath. "I shouldn't overthink it. I guess now that I've said it out loud, publicly, it's hard to back down."
"That you sleep on the floor?"
"Yeah."
"But wasn't that the reason you wanted to share less? To not crave that validation?" Anthony stopped drawing circles in Ian's right thigh. The absence of his fingers was now so obvious, even though Ian had barely noticed it before he stopped. Ian knew there was a gentler way to articulate his thoughts. "Sorry. Didn't mean it like that. You know what I meant."
"Actually, no, I don't. Could you explain it to me?"
Ian tried to put himself in Anthony's shoes. The way they used social media, their relationship with it, was completely different. Always had been. Sometimes it felt like Anthony started to lose himself in this image, this persona he had created. Like it was tightly intertwined with his real self. There was no way to say that without sounding judgmental, was there?
"I feel like sometimes you go too far in it. Too far to– well, scratch that. It feels like there are times you put very much value to some strangers' comments. Or what you think someone might say," Ian said. To underline that this came from being concerned, he petted Anthony's hair gently. He felt Anthony's head move a bit, and realized he was nodding.
Ian hadn't really noticed it, until someone had commented that basically every time Ian spoke, Anthony was listening very intently, nodding as in agreement. "Like right now. You said it's hard to back down after saying it publicly. The only thing you've said was about sleeping on the floor. I assume no one but me even knows about the sitting thing."
"I know it sounds stupid when you put it like that," Anthony said. "The thought that I would just quit, that I would go back to not doing it, it kills me."
"You did quit and did come back before. You've said that was one of the most important decisions you've ever made."
Ian saw Anthony's face gather a little color. He took hold of Ian just a little tighter. "You're right, I did."
Silence fell between them, but it didn't feel uncomfortable. Ian played with Anthony's hair, scratched his scalp. It was soothing to touch someone this way. Also, the fact that Ian knew Anthony liked it so much made it even better.
A sudden orange glow from the screen took Ian's attention, and even without looking he knew his favorite scene was going to be next. Now he hoped Anthony wouldn't even steal a glance at the tv to not get any spoilers. Because they would watch it some other time.
One of the reasons this particular film was so dear to Ian had to do with Anthony. Or rather, Ian's realization that what he felt towards Anthony was way beyond platonic, even beyond a romantic partner. He had stumbled upon the movie by accident and had watched it the same day he had started to question his feelings. Besides the fact that the movie was really good, every time Ian rewatched it he was reminded of that rainy evening, a warm and giddy feeling he'd had all day.
It was so sappy Ian was probably never going to share that with anyone. With Anthony at most, maybe.
In the orange glow Anthony looked absolutely beautiful. He had closed his eyes and was breathing softly. Almost like he'd fallen asleep.
"What about other things I said? Did anything ring true?"
"Partly." Anthony shifted and for a moment Ian thought he would get up. Instead, he pulled the blanket that was trapped under him and covered both of them with it. Ian continued stroking Anthony's hair. "It doesn't make sense, even to me. When I've made up my mind, I subconsciously think that it's for life. Whatever I've decided, it's for good. That's why it's hard to back down. Not only would I disappoint myself, but everyone else too."
"I know I can't control what people think about me. I know that. But... it still bothers me sometimes. And I feel incredibly guilty. Besides my own, it should be your opinion that matters the most. What my inner circle thinks about me, not some people I don't even know. It's stupid, I know, there's just something about it. Sometimes I feel I'm trying to convince myself, most of all."
Ian slid his hand down Anthony's forehead, smoothing out the elevens forming between his eyebrows. The touch made Anthony relax his face a bit and he leaned into it.
"Did I even make any sense?"
"Yeah, you did. At least I think I understood what you meant."
"Good."
Ian was about to ask if asking that was for a chance to correct any possible misunderstandings, or if it was a need for Ian to validate his feelings, but he stopped himself. No need to rub the salt deeper. Instead, he asked: "What did you mean by convincing yourself?"
"I guess I just feel like I have to prove myself. To who, I'm not exactly sure. Sometimes it feels like the most real me, the curated version. Not in a sense that it is me, more like, what I would want to be." Anthony was drawing circles again.
"Is it about control? That image is something you have full control over, unlike most of the things you have to deal with," Ian said. Anthony lifted his head and looked at Ian with doubt in his eyes.
"Fuck you." Anthony's tone was playful. "How do you do that? And people think you have no emotional intelligence."
Ian shrugged and just smiled at Anthony. "A broken clock is right–"
"Don't downplay it," Anthony warned and rolled over to his side. Ian's lower stomach and his thighs immediately felt colder now that the source of warmth was gone. The blanket didn't feel enough. He didn't have to shiver for long, because Anthony scooted towards the backrest of the couch and lay beside Ian. "Wow, every time I'm delusional enough to think I'm ready, I close up and start acting like this."
Anthony let out a little laugh. "Of course I know the point isn't to heal and not feel anything or let anything affect me ever again. Rationally, I know. But that's what I want, deep down, still. Isn't that fucked up?"
"A little, yeah." Anthony smiled at that and rubbed his nose against Ian's. They were really close, and not just physically. The last couple of weeks hadn't been good at all. Barely bearable, Ian thought and draw circles on Anthony's back.
"Thank you for sharing," Ian said and leaned in to kiss him. It was meant to be more of a loving gesture than passionate by any means, but Anthony deepened the kiss anyway. Ian was careful not to get too into it. Now was not the time.
Anthony retreated back first.
"Thank you, Ian. For listening, for being there for me. Thank you for existing."
It felt overwhelming to hear that, but Ian was contented. Anthony had opened up. He swallowed before saying: "Thank you. Seriously."
"And I'm sorry for ruining the movie night," Anthony said while suppressing a yawn. As a reflex, Ian yawned, but didn't try to stop it.
"I've already seen it like ten times. We can watch it any other night, meanwhile this..."
This couldn't have waited any longer, Ian thought. Now that the gate was open, he felt like a fool for not bringing it up sooner. In a way, he was happy that Anthony had sat on the floor, because that was the catalyst for him saying something.
It wasn't a one-time thing, after which nothing in their relationship would need special attention. Ian knew that very well. But it was a good start. Because no matter how much they talked about being open and honest and addressing concerns right away, it rarely worked out in real life without any effort.
That's why it was vital to be conscious and consistent with it. No matter what they promised, their actions meant the most. Ian wanted to be an equal partner in this. When it would be hard, he was prepared to lead as long as necessary. He wouldn't let go, no matter what.
Ian almost jumped at a sudden noise, then immediately relaxed as he realized it was Anthony snoring. He had fallen asleep.
Ian stroked Anthony's face, starting from the jawline and ending up tickling his earlobe. Besides a sleepy grunt and a slight scrunching of the nose, nothing. Usually, Anthony woke up from turning the light on, gently touching his shoulder, even from the smallest creak, like he was wired to detect any sound that didn't belong to the soundscape. Anthony slept so soundly that Ian felt bad for trying to wake him up.
Despite his differing outlook on some of Anthony's practices, he knew how important they were to him. If Anthony wanted to sleep or sit on the floor, Ian would support it.
"Anthony, wake up." Ian wrapped his arms around Anthony again, this time putting them under Anthony's arms so he could better move him. Ian lifted himself and Anthony into something resembling a sitting position. The movement, in its roughness, woke Anthony up and he opened his eyes. It was hard not to laugh at how disoriented he looked like. "You haven't slept for long. If you want to sleep somewhere else, you can."
"Maybe this can be the compromise for now," Anthony mumbled and laid back down, taking Ian down with him. "Only at your place, though."
"Good night," Ian half-whispered. Saying it out loud would've felt inappropriate somehow.
"Good night, Ian," Anthony whispered back, snuggling closer. With his right hand, Ian took the remote and turned off the television. It was dark, except for the glow of the kitchen light Ian had left on. Carefully, he pulled the blanket back up, so it covered them both.
The thought of getting up and brushing his teeth occurred, but Ian felt like he couldn't leave, didn't want to. Anthony felt so warm, laying on Ian like that. The tray full of almost untouched snacks called to him, but Anthony's hold was stopping him. He hadn't felt such closeness between them in a long time.
The tears came without warning. There, in the darkness, he couldn't help it. Anthony's head rose up with Ian's erratic breathing without any resistance. Maybe he was already asleep. Ian cried without a sound, without the support he knew he'd get if he wanted.
This, he needed to do alone.