Chapter Text
For the past few months, he’d felt like something was out of place. Waking up to see a man in his flat every morning set him off.
No, that wasn’t it. It wasn’t the fact that it was a man that Jonnaay was waking up to each day, but rather the fact that it was a man.
Of course there’d been some passing thoughts about waking up with someone over the years. It was all part of growing up. The hormonal curiosities about those around you, Jonnaay had been through it just like everyone else.
But he never set it right. He never let go of it, accepted it as part of a process of figuring things out. He’d dove in with a guy, moved to the sunny city of Brighton with him, and waited six months for the sun to set.
Under different circumstances, maybe the sun would have stayed out for longer.
Some mornings, he’d steal glances to admire Scott’s features while making him a cup of coffee. Or some nights, when it was too dark to see, he’d listen to his heartbeat.
This past month, he has asked himself: is it the fact that it’s a man he’s waking up to see each day, and not the man? As they’ve fallen into their own new lives by now, navigating the adult world in a shared space, things have fallen into place.
Maybe it’s the wrong place. Jonnaay wonders this whenever Scott’s hands are on his hips, or when he’s tracing stars down his spine in bed.
He almost wants to look up at him, to ask the world to stop spinning for just one moment so that he can wrap his arms around Scott one last time. To ask him for forgiveness while pressing a kiss on his jaw, looking up at him so sweetly as he asks if he feels just as lonely as he does.
He loves him. That’s what he tells himself, every time Scott pays for their groceries, every time he drives him places, every time they kiss with alcohol lingering in their breaths.
Maybe in the midst of a fog, or a snowstorm, Jonnaay would have the courage to ask Scott, “do you ever forget it’s me that you’re spending your life with?”
Because there are times he forgets that it’s Scott next to him in bed. There have been times he’s held Scott’s hand and almost mistaken his rings for someone else’s.
He could never mistake it whenever Scott’s mouth is open, though — of course not. When Scott would whisper to him how much he loves him, he could never imagine anyone else. Jonnaay just wonders if Scott could do so for him.
It’s not to say that Jonnaay isn’t into men, because he would gladly (with some guilt involved, of course) let a man lay behind him in bed. He would let another man trail his fingers around his waist and down to his lower stomach — slowly inching lower and lower — and he would quite enjoy it.
But he has a brain. He’s lived for twenty years, not just a few days underneath a rock, so he can tell what the common denominator is.
It’s Scott.
He loves him with all of his heart, but he can’t help but feel as if his heart is in the wrong place. The lingering thoughts of someone else have made it far too difficult to keep up with Scott’s lingering touches on his body.
But he hasn’t lost all interest. It isn’t that he’s fallen out of love with him, but it’s that living with him and loving him feels incomplete. Jonny feels that something is missing.
Now, Scott also has a brain. He notices the distance between their thoughts even when he’s whispering right into his ear. He can feel the gap between their eyes even when their lips are pressed together.
So in this moment, Scott feels well-informed. He just knows he should be as gentle as always. The distance between the two of them feels much greater than it really is. His heart doesn’t break from knowing, it only grows from here.
With one hand resting in Jonnaay’s hair from behind, and the other arm wrapped around his waist with the hand pressed against his stomach, the two of them are rather close. Scott’s fingers move through his hair, gently brushing behind his ear.
He’s always been attentive. He manages to notice the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, just from looking at his gentle side profile. How exactly he does this is a mystery to all, including himself.
“I’m sorry if you think I’ve not been around much lately,” Scott apologizes. His breath against Jonny’s cheek feels like a soft breeze, preparing his skin for a sweet kiss.
Jonny exhales. His eyes wander towards his own hands, laid on the bed in front of himself by his head. A sense of guilt rises in him. What he’s guilty about must be the distance he feels like taking.
“A little bit, I guess?” he blinks as he thinks. His lip quivers with uncertainty. His heart is certain, but he isn’t sure if he wants to say so yet.
Scott taps his finger against Jonny’s hip. A smile tugs at his lips for half of a heartbeat before it lets go. Scott’s hand retreats from Jonny’s waist and moves up to his shoulder.
“Does your head wander as much as I do when I’m not home?” he asks Jonny. In his heart, his cheek is pressed into the crook of Jonny’s neck. In his heart, he can feel him humming a thought.
One of Jonny’s free hands reaches back to play with Scott’s hair. It’s like an overhand toss over his shoulder to dance his fingers through his hair.
A stupid laugh is shared between them. The question sounds ridiculous. Jonny wonders if it’s even worth answering.
He hums again. Another thought. Scott could drain himself of his worth offering pennies for each of his thoughts if he could. It’s nothing that can be achieved when Jonny decides to give his thoughts to him for free of charge.
“You know I love you, right?” he asks. He can’t see Scott’s face, but he considers turning his head to look into his eyes. The room is too dark to see them well. The two men could always be blinder.
Scott kisses a hum against him. A nonverbal yes. He can almost hear Jonny’s thoughts: you know I want to be honest, right?
It takes a bit for Jonny to speak up again. “And, you know that-“
“I want you to be happy, right?” Scott speaks over him. It overpowers what he’d been saying. An overpowering feeling that makes Jonny wonder if he’s about to rip out every thread keeping his body together.
He’s scared to be so vulnerable like this, to unravel himself in the bed he’s shared with him for months now. But part of him wants to.
Scott is calling for him, and part of Jonnaay wants to pick up the phone just so that he can put down the line. He just wishes that there could be a way to do so without leaving him alone on the other end.
But someone’s got them on hold. Something is missing from their line. Maybe one of them should pick up.
There’s been ringing in their ears since one particular day in December. Somewhere else in the city of Brighton is someone who is stranded in a telephone booth. Just down the line.
Jonny wants to turn around, to bury himself in Scott’s chest in search of comfort, but he also isn’t sure. The thought of doing so suffocates him. He could press himself close enough against Scott as to be able to hear his heartbeat, but it won’t bring him closer to his heart.
At least this way, Scott can’t see his eyes darting around with fear. He shouldn’t be so scared to be honest.
He doesn’t want to be the one to say that he’s got someone on hold. He doesn’t want to have to tell Scott that their bill gets higher the more time he spends talking to someone else.
His breath is shaking. Jonny almost wants to break down, to give up and fall apart with guilt.
“You can always tell me anything, Jonny,” Scott hums another kiss against him.
He inhales. Scott doesn’t need to see his face to tell that he’s nodding. Jonny shakily responds, “okay.”
Scott holds him tighter, trying to be as reassuring as he can.
“I’ve really been trying not to,” Jonny nearly whines. Scott has seen him cry maybe once or twice, but he doesn’t view him any differently for beginning to cry again. If anything, it makes him feel closer to him.
He feels Jonny twitch, and he can only guess that there are tears falling from his eyes. As much as he wants to turn him around and kiss him, to wipe his tears away and tell him that everything will be okay, he knows to listen.
Scott listens to Jonny cry out that he has feelings for someone else.
He closes his eyes and rests his head against Jonny’s. He doesn’t need to tell him that he thought he may have, but he feels a need to reassure him that it’s okay.
Down the line, the phone stops ringing. Nobody is intruding on their privacy. They have each other.
Scott doesn’t kiss him. He wants to, but he’s not sure how appropriate it would be. Jonny just wants everything to fall into place, to make sense, and to be peaceful.
He lets himself rub Jonny’s arms to comfort him as he cries. They stay like this, basking in the silence of the truth. Neither of them are sure of what happens now. Not when Jonny is trying to steady his breathing, which he manages to after a while, and when Scott already knows who it is.
The two of them are only resting in half of the whole truth. Scott isn’t sure how to say that he could relate to it.
Both of them know that talking could set things right. They could make sense of all of this if they just talk about it. They don’t need this silence, but they allow it to stay so they can organize their thoughts.
Just as Jonny thinks he might be slipping into sleep, Scott confesses, “I think I relate.”
Jonny almost feels too tired to speak. His crying stopped before this, but hearing Scott speak again makes the tears prick his eyes once more.
Weakly, he asks his boyfriend, “what do you mean?”
“But I don’t know if you’ll relate to me,” Scott says.
Jonny tilts his head, leaning into him more. A non-verbal cue for him to continue.
“I’m not… hurt, because you have feelings for someone else,” Scott leans towards Jonny more. Their heads are leaning against each other’s necks. They can feel the slightest bit of their breaths. Scott sighs, “because I do too.”
Jonny relaxes against him. With a little more of the truth revealed, they’re able to relax into each other’s bodies.
Scott isn’t done speaking. He whispers to him, with more emotion in his voice than he would like to have, “it just hurts a little because I’m still so in love with you.”
They feel like they’ve hurt each other.
“I think I’m still in love with you,” Jonny responds. Quietly and carefully, he turns himself around to face him. He wraps his arms around him.
He closes his eyes and lays his head against Scott’s shoulder.
“I just felt like I was scared to tell you that I felt like something was,” he hesitates, “missing.”
Scott returns the hug and presses a kiss against his head, “there’s nothing missing if it’s just our hearts opening a little more. Nothing’s missing if we haven’t put anything in it yet.”
Jonny groans, too tired to make sense of it.
“We’ve just made some space for more,” Scott adds. Jonny can feel the shrug in his voice.
Down the line, the phone has been ringing, but it’s caught by the answering machine this time. The two of them lean into each other’s touch, feeling more comfortable with themselves. Their hearts feel more open.
Down the line, someone else’s heart is opening up a little more.