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It was too hot inside. Too many people. He needed some air. At least that was the excuse Doug would give if anyone asked. Not that they were likely to. He doubted anyone would even notice that he had gone – hours of drinking giving people the confidence to no longer hide the fact that they had spent the night singularly focused on finding someone to share something fleeting and unmemorable with at midnight. But not Doug.
His singular focus had been purely to get through the night. To just make it to midnight. Even if alone. Preferably alone. That way he would not wake up in the morning starting the new year with more regrets. His singular focus had been to fly under the radar. To participate enough to get his brother off of his back, but not so much that he mistook it for genuine enjoyment and extend further invitations to events Doug had no interest in.
His singular focus was to not stare at the only person in attendance that caught his attention – the only person who ever caught his attention. His singular focus was to not show his disappointment when said person had turned up with someone else. His singular focus was to not get caught sending the person, accompanying that person, looks of disdain for seemingly no reason.
Because there was a reason. Even if no one else saw it. And it was not just the way his shirt was a little too tight, or the fact his hair was a little too styled – or the way he clearly thought enough of himself to not have the presence of mind to realise that the person he had walked in next to was miles out of his league. So, yes – he deserved Doug’s disdain. If he was not smart enough to know he had what others would kill for – what Doug would kill for – he deserved the occasional scowl thrown his way.
So maybe that was in fact Doug’s singular focus for the night. To make it through without actually killing anyone. Imagining how he would do it was probably okay; it had to be, he could not stop it – the only genuine smile that had formed on his lips being when he had lost himself a little too deeply in fantasy. But he was not going to ever admit that to anyone – so no one could ever prove anything.
It was getting harder though, to keep his large number of ‘singular’ focuses in check; especially as it got closer to midnight and he realised that, deep down, his singular focus was exactly the same as everyone else’s. Only he was not hoping to find someone new, kiss them in a drunken haze and move into the next year as though it meant nothing. Because the only one he wanted to kiss was someone that would never mean nothing, and deserved more than being a drunken haze moment. Doug was sober enough to know that. He was sober enough to know this was not going to be his year. He was too sober to watch it being someone else’s – for someone who did not have a clue what they had, to have his perfect new year’s moment.
As everyone had started to couple up and position themselves within arm’s reach of their chosen target, Doug had reached the limit of what he could take – instead going in search of a solitary vantage point to watch the fireworks that would undoubtedly illuminate the water in front of the Icehouse. It had taken him a moment to think of the perfect place before remembering the roof space that could be reached through the access point behind Pacey’s office – excusing himself into his brother’s workspace, out of the fire door and up the ladder that he had climbed earlier that year to check on the source of a leak above the bar. The air was cold; much colder than inside, and though he knew he would probably regret not grabbing his coat, for the moment he felt it as a relief – a sudden rush of air filling his lungs.
It was dark, leaving Doug feeling around and having to go by memory; recalling only a small space at the top of the ladder that then fed into another raised level that covered the majority of the restaurant, deciding not to wander too far – sitting on the ledge leading to the next section.
He sighed deeply; pulling his sleeves over his hands, enjoying the quiet – the sound from inside nothing more than distant and muffled celebrations.
“I guess this wasn’t the great hiding place I thought it was,” a voice sounded behind him – causing him to startle and look around.
He already knew who it was before his eyes focused on him through the darkness, knowing his voice anywhere, but confused why he was also on the roof and when he had got there; remaining silent as he moved closer and stepped down from the ledge Doug was sat on – settling next to him.
“Sorry – I didn’t mean to startle you,” Jack apologised.
Through the darkness, Doug could make out the edges of Jack’s face as his eyes adjusted – the small amount of light coming from the front of the Icehouse highlighting his features. He took a moment to answer; feeling the slight shake of his head, and the curve of a smile on Jack’s face before he managed to find words.
“I didn’t realise anyone would be up here,” he said; stating the obvious – realising that he had questions. “Why are you?”
Jack groaned; his elbow brushing Doug’s arm as he raised his hands to his face – shaking his head.
“Do you know what the worst thing about being gay is?” Jack asked; dropping his hands and turning to look at Doug.
“I don’t know,” Doug shrugged. “I imagine it’s the homophobia and constant threat of the erasure of your rights.”
Jack went quiet for a moment before laughing.
“Yeah – there is that,” he nodded. “And then there’s also the fact that when you’re on a really bad date, you can’t just hide in the bathroom from them.”
“No, you’re right – that is worse,” Doug laughed sarcastically – an elation filling him that he knew went against the empathy he was supposed to be feeling.
“Hey – come on. I didn’t know you were going to go for a serious answer,” Jack defended – the smile on his face that the light only just caught being far clearer in his tone.
“On a day to day basis, I imagine your one is probably more problematic,” Doug conceded – hoping to find out more.
“Day to day, maybe not. But today in particular – yeah,” Jack nodded – exhaling deeply before turning to look back out over the creek.
“So - bad date?”
“The worst,” Jack agreed.
Doug nodded in understanding – wondering if Jack was about to offer up any more information.
“It’s my own fault,” Jack conceded. “It’s a third date. And the first two were…” he trailed off, looking for the right words. “Not as bad as tonight, but not great.”
“So why a third date?” Doug asked. “Why a second one if the first wasn’t good?”
“I don’t know,” Jack shrugged. “Maybe because I’m not particularly good at saying no. Or maybe because I always get this feeling like I’m judging someone too harshly,” he offered. “Or maybe because all this festive cheer has a way of making me feel very… alone.”
Doug nodded; understanding – really, deeply, understanding.
“Wow – that just sounded really pathetic, didn’t it?” Jack laughed – growing self-conscious at Doug’s silence.
“No – it was probably the most honest thing I’ve heard for a long time.”
“Well,” Jack smirked into the darkness. “I guess, professionally speaking, people often have cause to lie to you.”
Doug could not help but laugh again; having been taken with Jack’s way of interpreting things from the very first conversation they had shared – even if brief and unnoteworthy.
“You think that’s the reason?” Doug asked. “My uniform repels honesty?”
“Not just the uniform,” Jack shook his head. “You’ve also perfected the cold, stony look of authoritative disapproval.”
“I have?” Doug asked, a little sheepishly – that not being something he could imagine having ever sent in Jack’s direction.
“I mean – yeah…” Jack replied cautiously – a little unsure. “You’ve been sending them my way all night.”
“What?” Doug asked, shocked. “No, I haven’t.”
“I would beg to differ,” Jack countered; wrapping his coat around himself a little more tightly, as though the memory of the look caused his body temperature to drop further. “It’s sort of like I was the last person you wanted to see here.”
“No,” Doug shook his head; his word coming out less than sure – suppressing a confession on the tip of his tongue. “I wasn’t…”
The darkness around them grew a little thicker as a silence took over; both men sat side by side, waiting to see who would speak first.
“I just assumed…” Jack trailed off, clearing his throat. “I figured that maybe I’d done something to offend you?”
“Like what?” Doug asked, turning a little – his knee grazing against Jack’s.
“I actually don’t know,” Jack laughed, despite himself. “I was hoping you’d tell me.”
“It’s nothing. You haven’t done anything.”
“Right,” Jack nodded, disbelieving. “It’s just in the summer I kind of got the feeling like we were… friends?”
“We are,” Doug confirmed, a little too adamantly.
“Huh,” Jack hummed – another silence filling the cold around them.
“Aren’t we?” Doug finally asked – breaking the silence.
“I guess,” Jack answered. “I mean – I know we saw more of each other during the summer because I was at Pacey’s, and obviously that changed when I moved out but…” he trailed off again, exhaling deeply – figuring he may as well come out and say it. “I gave you my number,” he finally committed to saying – sure he felt Doug’s body tense next to him. “I figured if you wanted to use it, then you would. But you didn’t, and that’s fine. I get it. I misinterpreted things, maybe. But if me doing that made you uncomfortable for any reason…” he rambled. “That wasn’t my intention and I’m sorry.”
“Jack – no,” Doug groaned; kicking himself – having second guessed that moment in his head a thousand times. “You didn’t.”
“It’s just since then, we’ve not really talked, and I kind of missed…” he stopped himself – feeling a little too vulnerable. “And there’s been times, being here, I’ve wanted to invite you to join me. Like tonight… but the looks…” He shook his head; realising how paranoid he was sounding. “I guess I just thought better of it.”
Doug sighed; knowing that Jack’s confession deserved one in return.
“The looks,” he started. “Tonight, and all the other times. They weren’t aimed at you.”
“Oh,” was all Jack managed – confusion in his voice. “Are you sure? If they weren’t aimed at me why could I literally feel the chill?”
“Proximity to the actual recipient?” Doug suggested.
“So… Tonight?” Jack asked, not really sure what he was asking – hoping Doug would fill in a few more gaps.
“You giving me your number – it didn’t offend me,” he continued – hoping that answered some questions. “And um…” he swallowed hard. “I should have used it. I guess each time I’ve seen you here, with someone else, it’s been a reminder of that mistake.”
“So the looks were aimed at…” he trailed off again; growing increasingly unsuccessful in finishing his sentences.
“I guess, oddly, for different reasons, we’re both up here because of the same person,” Doug confessed – feeling a shiver flow through him – laughing despite himself. “Honestly, Jack – what did you ever see in him?”
Jack laughed too; sniffing a little – his nose having grown numb in the cold.
“It was a blind set up,” Jack confessed.
Doug smiled; nodding – the very thought of being set up on a blind date being his worst nightmare.
“Someone from work was convinced he would be my type,” he continued.
“If I were you, I would be offended by that,” Doug joked.
“Yeah – maybe,” Jack smiled. “I don’t even know if I actually have a ‘type’.”
“Maybe you need to revise what you tell people,” Doug joked.
“I don’t know - everyone is better on paper, I guess.”
“Not true in my line of work,” Doug pointed out, making Jack laugh, a quiet washing over them before he spoke again – Jack’s gentle sigh causing him to put a pause on his joking . “How long have you been up here?”
“I don’t know,” Jack answered. “What time is it?”
“Close to midnight – I think,” Doug answered. “What’s the plan? Stay up here long enough that he takes the hint?”
“I was more focused on the escape part of the plan rather than the long term logistical issues.”
“You never know, maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll have found someone else by now.”
“Implying that I’m what – easily forgotten or easily replaced?” Jack teased.
“You’re asking the wrong person,” Doug hummed. “I find you to be neither.”
Laughing a little, Jack shook his head – wrapping his jacket around him a little tighter.
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Less than you’d imagine,” Doug answered – another quiet forming.
“This really does sum up the problem with Capeside though,” Jack hummed, going back to Doug’s optimistic potential get out of jail free card – clinging to the parts that felt safe. “In New York, you’d probably be right – left this long, alone in a bar, my disastrous date probably would have found someone else by now. Hell, I’ve even lost good dates that way,” he joked. “But in Capeside? How many gay men do you think are here tonight to take this problem off my hands?”
“I don’t know,” Doug shrugged. “Though I’d probably take a stab at three.”
“Three?” Jack asked, trying to hide the surprise in his voice; testing the obvious inference – scared he was misunderstanding after a couple of drinks. “Sucks for my date that two of them are hiding on the roof then.”
“And one of them has spent the night imagining his untimely demise,” Doug admitted, feeling like they were on a roll – hoping the cold would numb the pain of potentially overstepping. “I was particularly enjoying the more painful scenarios.”
“You know – other than being dull, and self-absorbed, and thinking Australia is a made up place – he hasn’t actually done anything wrong,” Jack mused. “At least nothing to warrant a painful death at the hands of someone I have no doubt would be able to effectively dispose of his remains.”
“I never said I would do it myself,” Doug pointed out, tone selling him out. “I was more thinking, death by poison, or car accident, or alligator attack.”
“Do we have alligators in Capeside?”
“I can see about shipping some in.”
Laughing again, Jack returned to looking out over the water.
“You’re funny,” he said, it being more of a thought than comment.
“And – funny – is that on your list?” Doug asked.
“My list?”
“Of things you look for. What actually is your type?”
“Can’t you tell?” Jack smirked. “Dull, self-absorbed, and dumb,” he joked. “Extra points for someone with a dryer that seems to shrink all of their shirts until they almost don’t fit.”
“Wow – your matchmaker friend really nailed it.”
“Right?” Jack laughed – then growing more thoughtful. “I don’t know. Maybe the reason it always works out badly is because I don’t know myself. When people ask, they’re expecting some description of height, or looks, or wealth. As though asking for tall, blonde and rich will automatically produce someone you click with.”
“So take those things out of the equation,” Doug suggested. “What’s actually important?”
“I guess that’s something you don’t really know until you find it,” Jack said, thoughtfully. “But I’m kind of done with the superficial. I’m done with the people you can have a fun weekend with only to then feel more lonely than before. The people that take a little piece of you without any intention of giving anything back,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t know… maybe I’m just looking for someone that if you asked a friend to set you up with a ‘good guy’ is the first person that comes to mind for them.”
“You’re just looking for a ‘good guy’?” Doug asked. “That doesn’t seem too hard.”
“You’d be surprised,” Jack hummed. “But, I don’t know – I guess that’s not all. If only,” he shrugged. “I think I just want someone who’s settled, and knows who they are, and what they like, but is still open to something new. Someone who can have just as much fun on a regular day at home as they do on a night like this – maybe more, even. Someone who doesn’t believe every conspiracy theory, accepts the existence of Australia and won’t spend 40 minutes arguing that ‘maybe the Earth really is flat’,” he rolled his eyes, causing Doug to laugh before releasing a sympathetic groan. “Someone who likes to listen as much as they like the sound of their own voice, and knows the right things to say, and is funny…” he trailed off, shaking his head.
“Someone that when you give them your phone number, they actually use it?”
“Right,” Jack nodded. “Rather than someone that goes into a gay panic.”
“Gay panic?” Doug asked, laughing again.
“The fear of being outed or forced to face the realities of his sexual orientation after weeks of what arguably could be described as flirting.”
“You think that’s what it was?”
“Flirting?”
“No,” Doug shook his head. “I mean – yes, it was. Bad flirting, maybe. But the ‘gay panic’ thing?”
“Well, until tonight I thought it was something more concerning,” Jack said, dryly.
“No, Jack,” Doug said, knowing he should not be amused, but he was – laughing again. “It wasn’t a judgement over your sexuality – or even mine,” he said, making a humming sound as he thought about it – realising how it looked. “It had nothing to do with you being a man and giving me your number. It was just because…” he trailed off, trying to find a less blunt way of saying it – not finding it. “Because it was you.”
“Oh, right,” Jack said, sarcastically – laughing too. “That’s so much better.”
“Because you’re you,” Doug persisted. “Because you… you tick every box on my list. Well, except for being friends with Pacey – and even that I’m willing to overlook. Because when you handed me your number, I was sent headfirst into an existential crisis trying to work out if you gave me your number as your friend, or you gave me your number as…”
“An incredibly obvious move that was utterly rejected?” Jack asked – Doug able to make out the raise of his brows through the darkness.
“Fuck,” he exhaled, standing up – causing Jack to laugh. “I think I might be slipping back into crisis.”
“Why the hell would I give you my number for any other reason?”
“Why the hell would someone like you be giving someone like me your number for ‘any’ reason?” Doug laughed – his sudden pacing helping with the cold.
“I don’t know, Doug,” Jack said, sarcastically. “Maybe because spending time with you during summer was really good fun, and you make me laugh, and the conversation is good, and you’re smart, and your hair is… And your eyes... Jesus, Doug – you idiot,” Jack laughed, exasperated. “Because you’re a good guy. One of the best I know. The best I’ve met in a ‘really’ long time.”
“And you’re here tonight – with ‘shirt guy’…”
“Because I started to think that maybe my type just doesn’t see me as their type,” Jack answered. “Because you send infuriatingly mixed signals.”
Doug patted down his pockets, reaching into one and pulling out his phone.
“What are you doing?” Jack asked, a mix of confused and bemused.
“Correcting probably the biggest mistake of my life,” he answered, continuing to press buttons – the glow of the screen illuminating the pull of concentration on his face. “There,” he said, nodding as he lowered his phone. “Done.”
“You’ve done what?” Jack asked – realising when his phone made a sound from inside his pocket. Shooting Doug a suspicious glance, he reached for it – reading out loud the message that had arrived. “‘Hi. It’s been fun hanging out this summer. Do you want to go for a drink sometime?’” Raising his eyes from the screen back to Doug he raised his brows. “Really?” he laughed.
“Well, go on,” Doug encouraged. “You can’t leave me hanging.”
Laughing again, Jack shook his head, typing something into his phone before pressing send – hearing Doug’s laugh as it arrived on his phone.
“‘That would have been good but I’m kind of seeing someone right now’,” Doug read – looking to Jack. “Seriously?”
“I mean, for all you know, he could be a catch,” Jack smirked – then going back to his phone and typing again.
“‘When were you thinking?’” Doug read – typing again, this time speaking as he typed. “How about New Years?’” Then typing another message – Jack’s laugh confirming its receipt.
“‘How about ditching one idiot for another?’,” Jack read – putting his phone down before standing too. “My new years resolution is to stop dating idiots.”
“Yeah – that’s a good one,” Doug hummed, looking down at his phone. “But by my count you still have one minute to make one final error of judgment.”
“There is that,” Jack nodded, giving it faux contemplation. “But I think my date may have given up and left. There’s no way I’m going to catch up with him in time.”
“Then I guess you should just go for the nearest idiot you can find,” Doug joked, the man in front of him stepping a little closer – a sound beneath their feet erupting as hundreds of people began to count down from ten. “Even if it’s just for the obligatory new year’s kiss.”
The crowds had only made it to four when Jack leaned forward, three when their lips met, two when Doug pulled him closer – one as any thought for anything else around them completely faded.
Doug felt a race of heat pass through him; Jack’s mouth warm and sweet – his hands on his cheeks making him forget about the freezing cold he had been suffering. With his arms wrapped around Jack, he moved his hand to the spot between his shoulder blades, keeping some pressure there, not wanting Jack to pull away – the count down long ago finished – replaced by the crackle and bang of fireworks exploding over the water.
He could not think of a better way to end the year. Or a better way to welcome in the next. There being no way that the sparks being felt were only meant for that one transitional moment – adamant that they would continue long into the year, and maybe even onto the next.
“You never know,” Doug said, a little breathless. “Maybe this wasn’t an error at all – no need to break any resolutions.”
“I mean – yeah,” Jack rolled his eyes. “I thought as much six months ago.”
“New years is about looking forward – not back,” he pointed out, grinning – Jack’s arms slipping perfectly around his shoulders as he kissed him again. “And this is definitely something I’d like to do more of.”
“Good,” Jack smirked. “Because I’m not risking going back down there until I know everyone’s gone.”
“That could be hours,” Doug pointed out – finding it hard to pretend like he cared.
“It could,” Jack said, kissing Doug again. “Is that a problem?”
“For me?” Doug asked, lips once again drawn to Jack’s – smiling before kissing him. “No – I can’t think of a better start to the year.”
The End.