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Peter paced by his table in the food court of the mall, near the Sbarro. He jiggled the zipper of Wade’s backpack. Wade had asked Peter to watch it while he ran to the bathroom 15 minutes ago.
Peter was raised better than to rush someone in the bathroom, but they would miss the movie if they didn’t get going soon. Finally, Peter pulled out his phone and tapped out a quick message before hitting send.
“Is everything OK?”
His phone buzzed silently just a few seconds later.
“Last stall on the left. Sorry.”
Peter scooped up their bags and jogged towards the bathroom, narrowly avoiding a woman pulling her small child away from a giant gumball machine. The bathroom was empty aside from an older man, carefully combing his hair in the mirror.
“Wade?” Peter called out, just before he saw the form of his boyfriend slumped on the floor, his back against the wall.
“Here,” Wade replied weakly, his usual boisterous tone sapped of all its joy.
Peter tapped on the door of the stall. “Lemme in.”
He heard the latch click, and the door swung open with a low whine.
Wade had his hoodie pulled over his head, which wasn’t unusual when he was in public. But Peter knew this was different. Wade called it “hiding.” Peter reached out and put his hand on the hood and stroked Wade's head through the thick material.
“Hey, baby.” Peter tried to keep his voice light for Wade’s sake.
Wade hooked his arm around Peter’s thigh and pulled him closer. Peter obliged, and Wade rested his cheek on Peter’s hip.
“Is it alright if we skip the movie?” Wade’s voice shook.
“Of course. We can see it anytime. I just want to make sure you are OK.”
A man in a business suit eyed Peter as he entered the bathroom, his gaze dropping to Wade visible under the stall door. The man sneered and Peter bit his tongue, choosing instead to drop to the floor beside Wade.
“I will be fine in a minute,” Wade said.
“Take your time.” Peter put his arm around Wade’s neck and Wade burrowed into Peter’s chest.
People came and went from the bathroom as the steady, long pulls of Wade’s deep breaths repeatedly warmed Peter’s chest. A small boy, chewing on the cuff of his sweater, stared as his dad helped him into the stall across from them.
Wade lifted his head, meeting Peter’s gaze. “I’m sorry,” Wade whispered.
“Don’t be,” Peter said, kissing Wade on the forehead.
“I think I’m good now,” Wade said.
“Home?”
“Yeah.”
Peter stood and helped pull Wade to his feet. Wade took his backpack from Peter and they walked hand in hand out of the mall.
“Hey,” Wade's voice distant as he watched the cars pass by while Peter pulled out of the car park.
“Yeah?” Peter asked.
“Please don’t leave me.” Wade gripped his seatbelt tightly as he looked at Peter, eyes pleading. Peter pulled the car up to the four-way stop and reached out his hand to clasp Wade’s. He pulled it up to his lips and kissed the scarred skin there.
“Never.”