Work Text:
Life got harder, without Yassen around. Time seemed to slow down, and yet it had been four months.
The world kept turning, because how could it not?
But Alex was stuck in that night. Stuck, watching Yassen flash him a watery smile as he bled out. Every day since then has carried the same sinking feeling, the feeling that it won’t ever be the same as it was, with him there to hold, to love, to cherish.
And yet at the same time, Alex felt like it didn’t really happen. Like when he woke up after taking his millionth depressive nap, Yassen would be there next to him and would roll over and call him something sweet in Russian with a gravelly voice.
The contradiction left him dizzy and hyperventilating most days. But today was going to be different, Alex promised himself.
If Yassen could see him now, he would surely scoop him up, press Alex’s limp body against his chest and mutter soft and sweet nothings into his hair, and the thought of that killed Alex.
So today, he would make a change. He’d spent four months in bed, watching the dulled world go by, just a ghost haunting his own home. Wallowing over the loss of the love of his life, his partner in crime, his everything. And from now on, he would spend his time honouring his love’s life.
That morning, Alex rolled out of bed with purpose, running a hand through tangled hair and taking a deep breath. And unlike the other days, where he would have just rolled back over and gone back to sleep, he stood and got changed. With a glance to the framed picture by his bedside (him and Yassen after purchasing their house in Tuscany) he left the house for the first time since Yassen died.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Alex just walks outside, reacquainting himself with the bright green outdoors. Alex doesn’t remember everything looking quite so bright, but that could be an effect of all his memories painting the world in a sad, muted light.
He’s aware he probably doesn’t look or smell very well but that can wait until he gets back to the house.
His head starts to spiral with how other people are probably perceiving him right now. Bringing a hand up, Alex scratches at the well-developed stubble that’s formed over his chin in his month of self-neglect, wondering if that combined with his knotty, a bit more than shoulder-length hair and sloppy clothes make him look homeless.
A man and a woman walk by, clearly trying to keep their distance from him, shooting each other concerned glances.
Maybe I shouldn’t have left the house at all, Alex thinks, heart rate speeding up a bit as he turns to walk home.
Alex turns to stare at the ground so nobody else has to see his reddening eyes. Staring at the sidewalk, a patch of chamomile catches his eye.
They were Yassen’s favourite, something that reminded him of the nicer elements of his home. Yassen would make him tea whenever he got too overwhelmed, holding Alex in his lap and telling him stories of his and Leo’s childhood in Estrov until Alex felt stable again. Never judging and ensuring the people that did would have hell to pay.
Yassen would never let Alex feel ashamed of himself.
On that memory, Alex lifts his head and strides home with his dignity restored by the phantom touch of a lost lover.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
The next day, Alex gets out of bed and walks into the bathroom. He stares at his reflection for a slight bit longer than is healthy but finds it in himself to pick up the hairbrush.
As he works the brush through knots, mats and tangles, his confidence starts to drop again.
I couldn’t even keep up with basic hygiene. What am I, some kind of animal? Alex places the hairbrush down—hair only half-brushed—and leaves the bathroom, planning on dropping right back into bed until he feels like he can try again.
But Alex sees picture after picture of him and Yassen smiling, holding each other, staring at each other like nothing else mattered. Alex’s appearance varies in the pictures, with some having Alex looking prim, polished, the best he had ever looked and some where they’ve both just rolled out of bed. In every instance, Yassen looks at Alex with love. Looks at him like he’s everything, like he hung the stars.
Alex lightly touches his finger to a picture of him and Yassen in bed, the morning after their unofficial wedding. Alex has the biggest grin, holding the camera while a sleepy Yassen is pressing a kiss to his cheek, holding Alex against his chest.
A tear squeezes its way out of Alex’s eye as he runs his finger over photo-Yassen’s jawline.
Taking a step away from the wall, Alex turns around and walks straight back into the bathroom.
Yassen loved me, unsightly or not. He would want me to take care of myself.
So instead, Alex spends hours carefully detangling his hair, shaving his beard and giving himself a passable haircut. When he’s done, he finds that he looks nice, and his eyes are almost as bright as they were in that picture.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
It’s been a week since Alex decided to make his change.
Alex has been doing a little more every day, and with it, the world seemed to brighten. As he went for morning, the flowers seemed to turn towards him, greeting him with bright faces, and the sun felt like it rose just to cast its light upon him.
Every morning, when he wakes up, he makes sure to brush his hair, teeth, and shave. He doesn’t stare at the mirror for too long, because that’s a bit out of reach for him now. But Alex likes the way he looks, and he’s sure Yassen would too, so he keeps it up.
Since giving himself a haircut he has:
- Consistently worked out for at least half an hour each day
- Learned to cook piroshki (it was Yassen’s favourite)
- Gone for an hour-long jog without worrying about what other people thought of him
- Eaten a healthy, substantial meal each day
- Not slept in past 12pm
- Only cried twice so far this week
It was quite the list of accomplishments. Alex was planning something much bigger today.
- Go out to a public place alone and enjoy just drinking and maybe talking to strangers?
The task was a pretty big leap, but Alex was sure he was capable of it. He’d been worrying all day about what he would wear, if he should approach people or wait to be approached, what he should say, how he should talk, act, smile—
Alex took a deep breath and stopped himself. It would all work out fine. He didn’t have to talk to anyone, and he was more than capable of protecting himself if worse came to worst.
He busied himself with cleaning the house to simultaneously clean his mind and keep it clear before he went out.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
An hour before he was planning to leave, Alex stepped into his backyard.
It was an extensive plot of green, green grass only interrupted by a patch of rich, black soil and a wooden cross wrapped with a red ribbon.
Yassen’s grave.
Alex walked over reverently, casting a silent prayer to Yassen as he kneels.
“Hey, dear. It’s been a while since we’ve talked. I have… pulled myself together a bit in the past week. And I know, I’ve said that before. But I think I’ll be okay this time. I still miss you every day, I still wish you were next to me when I woke up, I still wish… you hadn’t left me behind. But I know, I know that isn’t what you would have wanted for me. I know you would have wanted to see me as I am now. I’m healthy, I’m standing, I haven’t touched a drug of any kind in over 2 weeks now. I’ve even cut back my tea, drinking just plain old water instead. I know you’d laugh at me for that.”
Alex chuckled a little sadly to himself.
“I came here to talk to you tonight because I’m going out. Not to get trashed or hope I get shot, but to just enjoy myself, alone in public. The chance that I end up staring at my phone for a few hours is high. But I also want to mention that I want to meet people. I want to maybe meet someone that I can love, Yas. I don’t think I can love anyone like I loved you, not ever. But I want someone to call mine. I’m telling you this so you know that I am not replacing you. I never could anyway. I am just moving forward with you in my heart. I love you, Yassen, and now I’m looking for someone else I can share that love with. But trust me, if they’re even slightly against the mere idea of you I will kick them to the curb. Nobody could replace the you-shaped hole in my heart. Just know that I am making space for another hole right next to yours. I don’t know what it will look like yet, man or woman, tall or short. But regardless of size, it will not erase the special place yours will always hold. I’ve gone on a bit of a tangent, haven’t I? I just had to tell you and let you know. It wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t.”
A tear drops from Alex’s face into the dirt.
“I love you, Yassen. Today, tomorrow and forever.”
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Alex arrives at the bar a little later than he wanted, making the cry counter increase by one, then having to fret over his red, puffy eyes. After calming down, Alex decided it wasn’t so bad and just left anyway.
The bar is packed. The lights are bright, the music is just loud enough that it’s slightly grating, and the sound of the public is overwhelming. There are so many people, and everyone’s together in groups of at least two. Nobody is alone.
Nobody except Alex.
It’s already a bit overstimulating to just stand in the somewhat-quieter entryway, but Alex pushes it down and strolls over to one of two empty stools at the bar, easily sliding down and calling over the bartender. He orders a gin and tonic, confident that he can drink as much as he wants since he walked here.
Alex looks around for a second, noting that everybody is deeply entrenched in conversation, so he too must look busy.
Just as Alex pulls out his phone, he feels a hand on his shoulder.
Alex freezes up. Even after the hours of practising what he would do in this exact scenario.
“Well, with shoulders that tense I might have mistaken you for a statue, and not the handsome man I thought you were.” A smooth, deep voice says from behind him.
Alex whips his head around to see… a somewhat familiar face? Alex squints. “…James? Sprintz?”
James throws his head back and laughs.
“Yes, Alex. Long time no see!” His accent is almost undetectable now, and he seems so different from the unruly, law-breaking teenager he remembered.
“Yeah, uh, long time no see… What are you doing in Italy?” Alex asked, suddenly feeling both the most vulnerable he’d been in a long time and completely safe in the presence of someone he knew.
“Just visiting for a hiking trip. And the beautiful views of Tuscany. What about you?” James lowered himself into the seat beside Alex, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Ah, I live here. Have for about 5 years, now,” Alex says sheepishly.
“Wow! Alone, or do I have competition?” James teased, and Alex felt a pang in his heart.
“Uh… had … competition…” Alex trails off, looking away and sipping his drink.
James seems to startle a bit, straightening up as his features melt into something of concern. “Man, Alex… I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s okay. Not like it’s your fault,” Alex snorts into his drink while talking.
James laughs a bit awkwardly, before seemingly trying to lose the dicey atmosphere. “So… what brings you to the bar tonight?”
“Just trying to get out of the house for a bit, y’know? I’m trying to look after myself socially, maybe meet someone.”
James’ eyes widen at that. He clearly processes the information, then realises the look on his face and tries to mask his eagerness.
“Oh- well, that’s nice. I’m also here looking to… meet someone…” James clearly tries to make eye contact with Alex so he can convey his desire.
Alex throws back the rest of his drink.
“James, this place sucks. Come with me back to mine?” Alex says, fiddling with the lime in his glass.
“Yes, please,” James replies quickly, wide-eyed.
Alex takes James’ hand in his, finding he likes the feel of James’ slightly bigger hand being softer than his own.
Then he leads James out of the bar, and they walk back to Alex’s place, hand in hand and in silence, charged with want and an underlying tone of vulnerability.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
After a quick struggle with the front door’s lock, they stumble into Alex’s home.
As Alex closes the door, James steps further into the house, noticing the walls of pictures.
When Alex turns around and sees James staring at the picture of him and Yassen showing off their matching rings—Alex’s placed lovingly in a lockbox, sealed away until he’s ready—it feels like he’s got a lump in his throat, waiting to see what James thinks of it all.
“ …These pictures are beautiful. Would you mind if I asked… How long it’s been?”
A bit of relief worms its way into Alex’s mind, but the lump in his throat remains.
“About 4 months, now.”
James nods wordlessly, turning back to look at the photos. Alex walks over to him so they can stare at them together.
They spend a minute or two in silence, eyes roaming over pictures of Alex and Yassen at the best points in their lives.
It’s quiet.
James’ brushes his fingers lightly over the back of Alex’s.
“Alex, I’m sorry.”
And just like that, the lump in Alex’s throat is replaced by a lightness in his heart. All this time, he hadn’t spoken to anyone about Yassen. He’d basically cut off Tom, Jack, Kyra and Sabina these past months. And now, hearing that there’s someone who cares , someone who feels true, loving sympathy …
Tears well in Alex’s eyes.
Alex lifts his hands to James’ collar, and for a second, isn’t sure if he’ll pull him into a hug, break down completely, or kiss him.
It turns out to be some combination of the three when Alex pulls James in, places a devastatingly soft kiss on his lips and collapses into his arms as silent tears make their way down his face.
James meets his kiss, equally as soft, and holds him.
Holds him like he’s needed to be held these past months.
James is what Alex didn’t know he needed, keeping him close and letting Alex wail into his shoulder silently, smoothing down his hair with a loving hand.
After the majority of the tears have flowed, Alex pulls back.
This time, when he kisses James, it’s not especially soft, or brief.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
One month later.
Alex is kneeling over Yassen’s grave, newly done up with a fresher, cleaner ribbon that hasn’t completely frayed, a handful of chamomiles plucked from the park and a picture of him and Alex, holding each other on their hotel balcony, background lit up with the nightlife of Sydney.
“Hello again, dear. It’s been longer than I would have liked since we’ve talked, but I’ve been so busy! I want to start by telling you about James. He’s the best, and I think I love him. I want to ask him to move in, but it’s only been a month. I feel like we’re moving pretty fast though, so maybe this is on track. I wish I could ask what you thought, but I’m also pretty sure you would just tell me to do what I think best, then kiss me with that silly smirk. I… miss that a lot. But James is a really good kisser too. I love when he just comes up behind me while I’m cooking, and he’ll just hold me for a while. You did that sometimes too. But with me and James, it’s like a ritual now.
Yassen… James picked me up from my lowest. He found me, just barely getting by, and he gave me love, protection, and a closeness I haven’t felt with anyone since you . I see bits of you in him and wonder, is Yassen working from behind the veil to make sure I’m loved and cared for even now? I sure like to think it is. In the morning, when he wakes up, he pulls me in and calls me something cute in German. You know that I never bothered to be fully fluent in German, but I’m pretty sure that he calls me his ‘little Alex’, even though we’re about the same height. But he calls me ‘little Alex’ , just like you. If that’s not divine intervention, I don’t know what is.
I still miss you every day. And I’m sure I will until I see you again. But it doesn’t tear me apart anymore, because James helped put me back together again. I long for you while also being content with what I have here, and that’s not only not a bad thing, but it’s also something that I’m quite comfortable with now. I told you once that I was making space in my heart for someone else. I now know what it looks like, and the hole is filled. I don’t feel empty anymore, Yas. I feel like with him, I have everything I need. I want to thank you, because I wouldn’t be here without you. I wouldn’t have him without you.
I love you, Yassen. Today, tomorrow, and forever. And that will never change.”
Alex stood up, walking over to where James stood a few feet away. Alex placed a kiss on James’ cheek, then walked inside, leaving James and Yassen alone.
James approached the grave with respect, lowering himself as he prepared to talk.
“Hello, Yassen. I feel like I should… call you sir, or something. I don’t know. I’m a bit nervous to be talking to you for the first time because over the past month Alex has told me so much about the amazing man you were. In no way do I think I can fill your shoes, but Alex likes me, so I think I’m doing a good job. I like to think that you would approve of us. I can imagine meeting you and doing my best to get you to like me, maybe making a fool of myself in the process.” James laughs a bit to himself. “I wish I could have met you. You made Alex so happy. However, now it’s my turn. I already said I don’t think I could live up to your name, but I will sure as hell try.
I… want to ask for your blessing before I tell Alex I love him. We’re moving really fast, but I couldn’t imagine it any other way. Hell, I even caught myself staring at rings while we were at the mall the other day. I am so in love with Alex, and I know you probably relate to that feeling. I promise you, as long as I live I will love him, keep him safe, keep him happy, and keep him healthy. Yassen, sir, however you wish to be addressed… I will not let you down.”
James cast a glance back to the house, where Alex was clearly hustling around in the kitchen, looking very busy through the windows.
“I won’t let him down either.”